“Fallen Angel”

Epilogue: Scar Tissue

It was disgusting, but Wildwing had been able to handle it.

When Wraith pored blood onto his brother’s back, Wildwing swallowed down the bile that gushed into his throat. When Wraith began to swirl the sticky, red substance into a pattern and Nosedive shivered, he had been able to murmur reassuring words and trail a solacing hand through his brother’s hair. Even when Wraith thrust his finger into his brother’s back and carved through Nosedive’s blood, feathers, and skin, he was able to watch, albeit with soul-wrenching despair.

However, when Nosedive’s macabre scream resounded, echoing deathly in Wildwing’s ears, he finally reached his limit.

He squeezed his eyes shut as his brother continued to struggle against the hold, and Wildwing simply tightened his grip on Nosedive’s shoulders. He knew unconsciously that Canard was doing to the same to the teen’s ankles. He tried to block out the sound of his brother’s demented scream, but he couldn’t. The sound ricocheted off the walls, entrenching him. His brother was in excruciating pain, and he was powerless to do anything but be an accomplice in his torture.

It killed him.

Opening his eyes, he watched as his brother writhed in pain in the hold. His shrieks faded until Nosedive was forced to suffer in silence, his throat too raw to scream, his breath depreciated to dry pants, tacit tears coursing his cheeks.

A drip fell upon Nosedive’s head, then another, and Wildwing realized he, too, was crying.

Why his brother? Why did this have to happen to Nosedive?

Nosedive thrust again, only for Wildwing to tighten his grip.

He ducked his beak to rest his forehead on Nosedive’s crown.

Stars, you don’t deserve this.

Please…stop.

Just make it stop!

A strangled scream blared through the room, followed by the crash of shattering glass and a thump of a lifeless body.

Refocusing on his brother, Wildwing gasped at the sight of Nosedive’s back. Brownish-pink scars now coursed the teen’s skin, and it looked as if someone had whipped Nosedive with barbed wire. Beyond them were deep, carved abrasions—claw marks. They led to the small of his back—where the Stigma was.

Now, all that was left was a scarred outline of Dragaunus’s crest. While his brother would carry the bale for the rest of his life, the Stigma was gone.

*^*^*

Life, as he knew it, was different. There wasn’t as much urgency. There wasn’t one chaotic confrontation after another. There wasn’t even the deep, searing pain he had when he thought of the macabre message screaming across his brother’s back.

There was simply family.

The world seemed to blur into myriad of colors. Blinking, he focused upon Winter’s deep blue eyes and her long hair. She was the way he remembered her, just as beautiful, just as serene. She smiled sweetly down upon him, but the blinding light behind her made Wildwing close his eyes. When he reopened them, he realized her eyes had softened slightly. Her hair wasn’t quite as long as before, and there was one striking difference.

The person glaring down at him wasn’t his mother.

“Hey, Dive,” Wildwing greeted gently, shifting up in bed and wincing at the pain lingering from his slash wounds. He rested a hand on his stomach, from where the majority of his pain radiated. He blinked, unhinged at his unusually reserved brother.

Sitting cross-legged in a chair next to his bed, Nosedive stared at him, wordless, face expressionless. He wore Wildwing’s away jersey and a pair of snap-away pants. By the lines on the teen’s face, Wildwing saw the effects of exhaustion clinging to him and guessed Nosedive must not have woken up too long before him.

He sent his brother a sideways glance. “Baby bro? You okay?”

Nosedive’s head ducked, and he fidgeted with the hem of his jersey. After a few intense moments, he lifted his head, startling the older brother with tears brimming his eyelids. “I thought you were going to die,” he murmured brokenly.

I should have seen this coming. Wildwing kept in a cringe and shifted in his bed. He patted the mattress, beckoning Nosedive. The little brother wasted no time in jumping onto the bed and hiding his face in his brother’s shoulder. Obligingly, Wildwing wrapped his arms about Nosedive’s back, and when he felt his brother shudder, he moved his hand up.

“Hey, come on, now,” Wildwing said, trailing a hand through his brother’s hair, then whisking just the bangs. “I told you. I’m not going anywhere, so where is this coming from?”

Nosedive raised his eyes until they met Wildwing’s. “I—I thought when Dragaunus slashed you and then the blaster and—”

“Do you know why I did that?” Wildwing asked, cocking his head to the side. “Do you know why I let Dragaunus do that?”

“Because you couldn’t shoot him or else I would have died?”

“Well, yeah,” Wildwing said after a moment, “that was part of it, but I wanted to prove to you that Dragaunus has no power over you, Nosedive. He can’t make you do what he wants you to.”

Nosedive tore away from his brother. “So you would have rather died?” He smacked his forehead. “Stars, Wildwing! I would have been his slave if you would have died anyway!”

“Somehow, Dive, I think you would have freed yourself,” Wildwing admitted darkly. The thought disgusted him, but deep down, he knew the irrefutable truth.

By the look on Nosedive’s, the teen didn’t. “Huh?”

Was it possible that he knew Nosedive better than the teen did himself? “Dive, if I would have died, what would you have done?”

The answer was instantaneous, grim, and flat. “I would have killed Dragaunus.”

“Then you wouldn’t have been his slave.”

Blinking, Nosedive slowly fell back on his haunches on the mattress, jumbling it slightly. “I didn’t think of that.”

“I know.”

“But you did,” Nosedive said flatly.

Wildwing scowled. “It’s kind of hard not to when my little brother tries to kill the person he’s attached to.”

Stifling a snort, Nosedive glanced up at his brother. “And the chip? What was that all about?”

Wildwing shrugged, then regretted the motion. “When you went back to Dragaunus, Canard said some things that made sense.”

Nosedive eyed Wildwing warily. “What things?”

“That you might have been a traitor. That you came, took all our security codes and scouted our headquarters, then went back to Dragaunus to report,” the older brother said simply.

“And you believed him?” Nosedive inquired, his voice filled more with hurt than anger.

Wildwing snorted. “Does it look like I believed him?”

“Then why switch the chips?”

“For the exact reason of what happened. I thought Dragaunus might try to use you, which he did.” Wildwing impulsively leaned forward, pushing past the disputing pain to rest a hand on Nosedive’s shoulder. “I knew that you would be in a worse predicament than the team if the chip got into the wrong hands. You would blame yourself, and I didn’t want that to happen.”

“It’s still in the wrong hands,” Nosedive felt complied to point out.

Wildwing smiled slightly. “I know, but it’ll be okay.”

“How can it be okay?” Nosedive burst, pushing off Wildwing’s hand and standing instantly. He gripped his back, and he winced noticeably. Straightening the rest of his back slowly, he refused to meet Wildwing’s questioning glare. “Dragaunus still has the chip! You gave it to him after you promised it would never come to that!”

Wildwing shrugged. “I figured, ‘What the heck?’ ”

Nosedive stared in disbelief at his brother.

Shaking his head, Wildwing elaborated, “There are a few things in this life I can deal with.”

“So universal Saurian domination is one of them?”

“We’ll stop them, Nosedive,” Wildwing dismissed, scowling at his little brother’s lack of understanding. “I have faith in my team, so Dragaunus having the chip, yeah. I can deal with that. You dying I can’t.”

Nosedive froze. “…What?”

“You heard me. Why is that so hard for you to understand? Didn’t you get it the first time we hashed this out?” His tone was harsh, unrelenting. He locked eyes with his startled little brother sternly. “If not, let me say it again, so you’ll finally understand. I love you. Unconditionally. For fifteen years, I searched for you, and I’m not going to let you go without a fight.”

Nosedive looked away suddenly, tears glistening in his eyes. Slowly, he fell back on the bed and slipped his hand into Wildwing’s, squeezing. “Thanks.”

“For what?” Wildwing scoffed.

“For being you. For loving me.”

“Hey, what are big brothers for?”

Wildwing wrapped his arms about his little brother. He closed his eyes and sunk into the embrace, feeling the being encompassed in his frame breathing. He felt the hair dance upon his beak and the support the other lent him, and vice versa. He reveled in the sheer presence of Nosedive, remembering a short time ago when this moment would have been nothing but a memory and the person he held would be faceless and emotionless. While Nosedive was definitely a piece of something, if not necessary work, Wildwing realized as he embraced his brother, felt his brother, relished his brother, that he wouldn’t have it any other way.

“There’s still something I don’t get,” Nosedive asked, pulling back slightly. “When we thought Dragaunus had stolen the chip, why didn’t you just tell the team then that you had switched them?”

“My plan didn’t work out exactly how I would have liked it,” Wildwing grimaced.

Nosedive was flabbergasted. “You actually had a plan?”

“Yeah, but I was kinda hoping to get the Stigma off of you before I got slashed.”

Nosedive made a face. “Well, you certainly have looked better.”

Wildwing arched an eyebrow. “Look in the mirror lately?” He could just spot the edge of the bandages slapped across the back of Nosedive’s neck, where Dragaunus’s claws had sunk. A rich contusion, complete with dark hues of purple, yellow and blue, blemished his left cheek, and though he couldn’t see the bandages, Wildwing was positive they were covering Nosedive’s lower back.

“How’s your back?” The words flew from his beak before he realized he had spoken them.

Nosedive cringed but smiled a relieved grin. “Better. A lot better.” He sighed heavily, as if he had been holding his breath for a long time and finally had broken the surface.

Thirteen years, Wildwing thought sourly, but said nothing. It was over, and that was truly all that mattered. Nosedive was free, and the teen took no time realizing that fact.

Nosedive’s smile widened mischievously. “So now that Dragaunus isn’t after me anymore, I can come and go when I please.” It wasn’t a question by any means, and Wildwing knew it.

“Once we make sure Dragaunus won’t be after you,” Wildwing emphasized determinedly, though he amended a second later at Nosedive’s “hmph,” “Then, we’ll work out some parole from Pond Penitentiary.”

“You rock, bro!” Nosedive screamed, hoisting his arm in the air and subsequently cringing.

“Of course, that’s after you heal.”

Nosedive spared him an exasperated glare, then shrugged. He glanced toward the door. “Doesn’t matter, anyway. You’ll have no say in the matter. I’ll be out before you.”

Now it was Wildwing’s turn to be confused. “I take it Tanya’s looked you over.”

The deflation in Nosedive’s eyes could not be measured. “She says my back isn’t as bad as it looks. Something about something extracted or something. I wasn’t paying too much attention. All I know is she said there should be some scarring because a fingernail can’t rip through my skin and feathers and not leave a mark.” He shrugged. “I probably can leave in a few days. You, on the other hand,” he added zealously, “will be here into next week. Lost a lot of blood, big bro.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t need any of mine.”

Nosedive thumbed toward the door. “I did, but Duke gave it, while Mallory lent some to you. I’m not quite sure, but I think she said something about getting it back.”

Wildwing blinked. He couldn’t have heard that right. “Dive, you’re only allowed to get my blood,” he studied Nosedive thoughtfully, “unless taking off the taint took out the Enchantment.”

“Nah, still Cursed,” Nosedive said absently. “Duke has the universal giver blood or whatnot, so that really helped.”

“Still missing the point, baby bro.”

“Maybe I’m not the one who is,” Nosedive retorted, rolling his finger up in the air and then pointing it directly toward Wildwing.

Wildwing dismissed the claim immediately. “Yeah, but then that would mean he’s…”

His little brother smiled knowingly. “Are you going to ask or just stay in the
Dark Ages there?”

The door to the Infirmary opened, drawing both Wildwing and Nosedive’s attention.

“Hey, Duke,” Nosedive said to the gray-feathered mallard approaching. “Just bringing Wildwing up to snuff here.”

Duke stood at the end of Wildwing’s bed. “You’re finally awake. We were beginning a pot to see how long it would take.”

“Did I win?” Nosedive asked ardently.

Duke shook his head. “Sorry, kid. I think Canard was the closest.”

“Well, darn. How’d he do that?”

Swallowing, ignoring their babble, Wildwing uttered only one word. “How?”

“Straight to the point,” Duke remarked, taking a seat on the edge of the bed. He gazed the bandaged leader. “Never found out your mother’s maiden name, did you?”

Wildwing thought for a moment, trying to decipher just what Duke meant by that. Then, it hit him like a ninety mile per hour slap shot. “She was a L’Orange?”

Duke nodded, and his good eye softened. “Your mother was a special person, Wildwing. She and I were close, kinda like you and your brother.”

“But how can that be? You look nothing like her,” Nosedive interjected.

“Canard looks more like your brother than you.”

“I don’t remember Mom having an accent,” Wildwing stated briskly.

“Oh, that came later, after Winter went into Limbo, and I joined the Brotherhood and moved to Devienca.” He sighed and gazed absently. “I wasn’t always a thief, and the only reason I became one was because of P.U.C.k. When the Saurians attacked, the only survivors were your mother, father, and me, and the only reason I was alive was because I was off world at the time.”

“Why didn’t you tell us before?” Wildwing asked pointedly. “Why didn’t you tell me when Dive first came in? He could have died because you refused to help.”

Nosedive shot a look at Wildwing. “What?”

“And you wanted me to stick you with a needle?” Duke replied skeptically, not even looking at Nosedive. “If it would have gotten bad, I would have given blood, like I did today. But my blood isn’t his or your type, so it’s safer if you give it.”

“Someone feel the need to tell me something or what?” Nosedive whirled to Duke.

“But why didn’t you tell me?” Wildwing asked again, this time more poignantly.

Duke sighed disparagingly. “I was a fool at one time in my life.”

Nosedive slapped his hands against his knees and gave up his fight. “Only once?”

Duke swatted at the boy, but Nosedive simply ducked, then tried and failed miserably not to cringe. His back must still have been bothering him. Duke took notice, letting the boy be. His kidding attitude faded with a deep, bracing sigh. “I don’t know if you remember this, kid, but when your parents brought you out of Limbo after Dragaunus had stained you—”

“—they brought me to you,” Nosedive finished for him. “Yeah, now I remember.”

“I brought you to the Brotherhood infirmary for the docs there to check you out and keep you for a few days. I was still apprenticing under Demetrius Ping, a man who didn’t really want an apprentice, but thought I was a natural and couldn’t pass up the chance of training me. He made me promise that if I took him up on his offer, I would complete the training. When Winter and Wilder came back, I didn’t want him knowing I had a nephew. I was afraid he’d try to take you, so I’d keep on with my training instead of quitting to raise you. When I returned a few days later after I was done with him, you were missing. That was my first mistake. I knew you wouldn’t remember me or anything of the prior events.”

“It wasn’t your fault I took off,” Nosedive said flatly.

“Yeah, but if I would have been there and took care of you myself, then maybe you wouldn’t have run off like that. And maybe I wouldn’t have the worst mistake of my life.”

“What? Staying on in the Brotherhood?” Wildwing urged.

Duke scowled, “No. I asked a few of my friends to help and find Dive. Seemed one of them was working with Demetrius to keep you away from me, so I would return to my training. Instead of returning you to me or just killing you, he decided to keep you and take out Demetrius’s punishment for me out on you.”

“Falcone?” Nosedive asked in a whispered gasp, though he needed no confirmation.

Duke nodded sadly. “I didn’t know he did that until the day I saw you on the Blood Beaks’ turf. When Falcone was taunting you, it finally hit me what happened.”

“So, you were the one who stopped him.”

“Yeah. I stopped him and let Lucretia take you to the hospital. I joined her there later after I dealt with Falcone and then Demetrius.”

Wildwing wasn’t sure he wanted to know what that meant. “I still don’t see why you didn’t tell us.”

Duke gathered his thoughts. For the longest moment, he didn’t say anything. “I was sitting next to the kid’s bed that night, watching his heart beat, wondering if he was going to survive when I realized I couldn’t raise him. My sister had asked me to, and when I was nineteen, it was possible to leave the Brotherhood without retribution. But when I was twenty-four and higher up, I couldn’t. I thought it would be too dangerous. I told myself it would be. There would have been people searching for us, and I just didn’t think that was the right thing for you.”

Nosedive shrugged. “What’s so wrong with that?”

Duke continued, shifting uncomfortably, “See, that’s when I called Harper. He took you in and didn’t complain. Something about a promise he made to your father. Later, when I came to check up on you, I saw what an idiot I was. When they followed you and the danger I put you in—”

“Followed?” the boy echoed unsurely and definitely uneasily. “What the hell do you mean by followed?”

Wildwing glared at his little brother for swearing but decided under the circumstances, he’d let it go.

“Yeah, followed, kid,” Duke replied tersely. “I guess the traitors in our government were always afraid that Harper or I would one day decide to blow their cover, but I never had enough evidence to do that. Harper thought it was because if Wilder or Winter were going to return, they’d go to see him or me. Either way, if the traitors needed a hostage, I hate to break to you, kid, but you were the perfect one. I don’t think they ever put two and two together, that you were your parents’ kid, but,” he shrugged, “it didn’t matter. As long as you were Harper’s kid, you were a target, but we lucked out. They never attacked.”

“Would’ve been nice to let me in on it,” Nosedive scowled, crossing his arms in an obvious defensive measure.

“I could have taken you away from that.” Duke brought the conversation back on topic. “Sure, it would have meant us on the run and changing your complete name and always worrying if the person knocking uninvited at the door was simply a solicitor or a traitor or a Brotherhood member…but I could have protected you. I should have. I should have sought you out the moment the invasion came, since I knew Dragaunus would want to reclaim you. I just thought…” He shot a glance toward Nosedive, though nodding toward Wildwing. “I had already met you. I wanted to know your brother, too.”

“I never met you before the invasion,” Nosedive replied, bemused. “Well, I mean, except when I was four…”

Duke flashed him a crooked smirk. “You don’t remember your dad’s friend Dalton Drakeson?”

Nosedive gasped. “STARS! That was you?” He answered his own question before Duke even opened his beak. “I can’t believe I was so dense.”

“I wasn’t around a lot,” Duke said smoothly, “but I did come to see you every so often. And your dad and I talked. It was my idea to take you away when you had the drug problem.” He looked away, a little downcast, and his voice reflected his regret. “I always wondered if I would have taken you, kid, if we would have had what you and your dad had, or if Harper and I would have done what I wanted.”

“What do you mean?” Wildwing inquired.

“I still remember the night I got the call from your mother. I was trailing a suspected traitor, and when I answered my hoverphone, your mother was frantic.” Duke’s voice lowered, and suddenly, Wildwing found himself sitting up in his seat to listen. “She told me that P.U.C.k had been destroyed, and that everyone was dead besides her and Wilder. She was going into Limbo to stop Dragaunus from escaping. Wilder was heading home to stop the Saurians from kidnapping you two. Since we were the only ones left who knew about the Saurians, they wanted to make sure we would surrender, and the only way to do that was to take you.” He shook his head and redirected his gaze away. “I didn’t make it home in time. Your house was torched by then. I was able to track down Harper later, and he told me what happened. He said he changed your last names, though I still don’t think that using his last name was a good idea. But he surely couldn’t keep them Featherburn, and L’Orange was too well known.” He sighed in disbelief, but quickly continued, “I wanted each one of us to take our godson, so I would raise the kid, and he’d raise you, Wildwing. Harper didn’t think that was a good idea, considering I was only fifteen at the time.”

Nosedive snorted. “What?”

Duke shrugged. “Hey, Winter was fifteen years older than me, so what I was supposed to do?”

“So, that’s when we were put in the orphanage?” Wildwing conjectured.

“Right,” Duke replied. “Harper thought about keeping both of you, but decided it against it since the Saurians had seen him, too, and now that it was known that Wilder Featherburn had been the plant for P.U.C.k, all the duck traitors in the military would associate him with your father. He thought it would be better if you two were split and lived different places.”

“It’s funny how everyone says that,” Wildwing grated, his tone harshening at every word that sputtered from his beak. “It’s better that our parents went into Limbo to stop Dragaunus. It’s better that we don’t know the whole story. It’s better that Dive doesn’t know about the people following him. It’s better that he doesn’t know about the Stigma. It’s better that we grew up separately and with different last names.”

“Our lives weren’t easy, Wild, but we did what we thought was right,” Duke responded. His voice wasn’t filled with anger or remorse. He was stating fact. “Maybe we didn’t make the right decisions, but having kids in the business we were in was rare, and your parents did the best they could with what they had.”

“Yeah, but because of it, Dive was stained—”

“Wing—” Nosedive started alarmed.

“—beaten, coerced to swallow drugs—”

“—I wasn’t coerced!”

Wildwing sparred him a icy look. “If you wouldn’t have, do you really think Blade and Lucretia would kept you around?”

Nosedive gaped at his brother, caught off guard, then shifted his eyes downward.

Wildwing closed his eyes and leaned back the pillows behind him. His mind reeled, processing what he had just conceived, and he was overwhelmed. That seemed to be the pattern of late, actually.

Duke just stared at him, then unexpectedly nodded. “You’re right.”

Wildwing blinked. “What?”

“You’re right,” Duke repeated. “We did what we thought was right, and maybe it wasn’t the best choice. Nosedive went through hell. You spent fifteen years looking for the life you lost. If you felt the need to do that, then you’re right. We didn’t make the right decision. We screwed up, and I wish I could take it back. I wish I could have adopted you and Nosedive. Maybe that was answer to it all. Maybe when your parents went into Limbo, I should have taken you both and fled. Maybe Winter should never have gone into Limbo. Maybe Wilder shouldn’t have, either. Maybe we’d all be better off. Maybe Winter and Wilder should have left P.U.C.k when she and he got pregnant. I don’t know what the right choice was, but whatever was, we missed it. For that, Wildwing, I’m sorry.”

For several moments, no one moved. There was no noise, no yelling. All that was there was the truth, unable to changed no matter how many regrets reigned. And what was left was acceptance.

“So…who’s Kendra, and what’s blocked in my memory?” Wildwing finally broke the silence starkly.

Nosedive rolled his eyes, while Duke stood. “Dive, why don’t you bring your brother up to speed while I get Tanya?”

“Sure…”

Duke started toward the door.

Nosedive sneered. “…Uncle Duke.”

Duke halted and shook his head. Oh, this was just beginning, he was sure.

He turned sharply, catching a glimpse at the two brothers, Nosedive talking animatedly, while Wildwing simply listened, a content look upon his face.

Damned if they weren’t splitting images of their parents and damned if he didn’t enjoy them.

!!!

Nosedive’s lungs heaved in short, deep gasps as he balanced his stick horizontally on his knees. Sweat dribbled down his face. His strained muscles hurt from working harder than they had in a long time, and he felt as if he was going to pass out from exhaustion.

By the Stars, he’d missed it all.

Gliding along the blue line, he straightened his back and sucked in a prolonged breath before letting it out reservedly. He still hadn’t been approved to play by the NHL, but Wildwing relented when he was finally released from the infirmary. His exact words were, “Oh, to hell with it,” to which Nosedive took much pleasure in telling him not to swear.

Nosedive furled a suspicious eyebrow when he watched the team filter onto the bench, leaving only he and Canard on the ice.

An amused grin appeared on the older duck’s face. “Do you remember when we coming back from Twin Beaks?”

“Uh, kinda hard to forget getting stabbed by Siege,” Nosedive replied curtly.

His brashness didn’t faze Canard. In fact, it only increased the mischievous smile on his beak. “You said you would replace me as the left wing in the DuCainian Zenith if you ever had the chance.”

“Get to the blue line, Canard,” Nosedive demanded.

Canard’s face grew serious. “One-on-one. Take it out pass the blue line, to the defense after score, first to three.” As he spoke, he pointed to the places on the ice.

Nosedive nodded thoughtfully. “Crossbar and posts or goalie?”

Canard scoffed, “That would be a deficit to you, not me.”

“Not really. Way I look at it, you’ve been shooting against Wing for a while. Knowing our bro, I’d say he knows your tendencies, your moves, the speed of your shot. Me, he’s had one practice with. You tell me which one of us it’s the deficit against.”

“Fine. Goalie,” Canard conceded with a shrug. “I’ll give you the upper hand. And if I win—”

“We’re betting on this?” Nosedive blurted incredulously, skating around Canard to get his legs moving again. “I already have to cut my hair!”

“Hey, this isn’t just a game, kid. This is pride. So, if I win,” he thought for a moment, “I get to start the rest of the season.”

“I’m not even sanctioned yet by the league, but...fair enough.” Nosedive stopped short in front of Canard. “And if I win, you have to come to the movies with me and Wing.”

They shook on it. “Get ready to eat your words.”

“Oh, by the way, I scourt you two and the puck,” Nosedive said offhandedly as he glided into a defensive position.

Obediently, Wildwing skated into the goal behind him.

“Waitaminute—”

Nosedive smiled impishly. “Hey, you better take it, Canard. They’re the only two goals you’re going to get.”

!!!

“I can’t believe I lost,” Canard complained, walking side-by-side with Wildwing. “I lost to a seventeen year old!”

“Oh, get off of it, Canard,” Nosedive replied from the other side of Wildwing. He raked a hand through his short hair. “It’s not like you’ve really lost anything. Not like my hair…”

“I’ve lost my dignity! That’s something!”

“Oh, please,” Wildwing interjected, shaking his head. “We all lost our dignity by seeing those movies today.”

Nosedive cast a bewildered glance toward a bunch of whispering girls sitting on a bench he passed. One of them, a brown-haired girl in a short shirt, smiled and waved, to which he stopped. Before he could move toward her, Wildwing grabbed him by the wrist and tugged him away.

Blinking, Nosedive sighed. “Why did we have to leave early? You said any and all movies I wanted you to watch.”

“Practice, baby bro,” Wildwing said, ruffling his little brother’s short hair for effect. He smiled when Nosedive slapped his hand away and frowned. “I promise we’ll go back after if you want.”

“Couldn’t you have cancelled practice? You’re the captain.”

“I don’t work that way, and you know that,” Wildwing replied shortly. “Besides, you’re going to play, so I really don’t see why you don’t want to go home.”

Nosedive instantly perked up. His brother certainly knew the right buttons to push. “You’re letting me play again?”

“As long as you promise not to bruise Canard’s ego that much, I don’t see the harm.”

A mischievous grin formed on Nosedive’s beak, but whatever he was going to say was lost in screams of panic and hysteria. Abruptly, an alarm rang out. Swiveling, Nosedive saw four men inside of a bank wielding shotguns. Innocent customers scrambled from the bank, but a few were held back—hostages.

“Call the police!” Wildwing commanded his little brother as he hit the auto-retrieval button for his battlegear. “Talk to Captain Klegghorn. Tell him who you are, and what’s going on!”

“But—”

“Do it! Then go home!” Wildwing took off toward the bank, Canard on his heels.

“You totally suck!” Nosedive hollered after him.

“Good to know!”

Nosedive growled internally, as he watched his brother and his brother’s brother rush toward the ill-fated bank. He looked left, then right. He could call Captain Keg-horn, or he could help out…After all, he had taken on the Chameleon in the Raptor. How hard could a couple of bank robbers be? It wasn’t like they were dictatorial, bloodthirsty lizards.

He weighed his options for a grant total of two seconds, hit the button on his comm., and ran after his brother.

!!!

“Okay, this totally did not work out the way I planned,” the teen muttered to himself. He winced when the barrel of a shotgun was forced into his back. “Hey, now. I’m moving. No need to go all power-trip-y on me. You’ve got all the power, man.”

“Shut up!” the robber commanded, pressing the barrel further into Nosedive’s back.

Grimacing, Nosedive walked toward the back of the bank. Behind him he heard guns and puck launchers exchanging fire. A sharp shout from Wildwing rang out, and Nosedive whirled around, only for the man to slam the bunt of the weapon into his gut.

The wind stolen from his lungs, he doubled over in pain. “Okay, you so just made my suck list,” he rasped.

A rough hand grabbed the collar of his armor and threw him toward the door. “Move, unless you want another hole to breathe out of!”

Nosedive caught himself against the wall, groaned, and listened obediently. Once more feeling the barrel in his back, he knew if this societal reject didn’t kill him, his brother would for not listening to him. Oh, it would be well deserved, but he was still not looking forward to it. Of course, the thought would all be moot if he was shot to death. Eyeing the back door, he felt something heavy settle in his stomach. He had to do something before the robber reached freedom and decided he was no longer pertinent for life.

“So, where are you from?” Nosedive asked nonchalantly. “What made you turn to violence as an answer? I know mine was a traumatic turn of events when I was—”

“Shut up or I’ll make you shut up!” the man ordered, pressing the cold gun barrel against Nosedive’s neck.

A violent shiver writhed through the teen’s body. “You know, you kinda need me, so these threats are really lame. Think about it. You knock me unconscious. Cops’ll think I’m dead, and then they shoot you. Not the bright side. Maybe you’ll be on the Other Side, but—”

He tensed when he felt the barrel disappear from his neck, dreading what was to follow—

The back door swung open, giving Nosedive the moment he needed. The man behind him caught off guard, Nosedive whirled around, kicking the shotgun out of the startled man’s hand and into the air. Catching it, he slammed the man across the face with the barrel, rending him unconscious. He dropped it immediately, preferring his launcher when he twisted and aimed at the short, cranky looking man in front of him. His trench coat and bowtie were different attire than that of the robbers, but Nosedive wasn’t going to take a chance, especially since the man, too, pointed a weapon at him, a handgun of sorts.

“Man! I cannot get a break today!”

If anything, the man seemed more exasperated than Nosedive. “I told Wildwing this would happen.”

Nosedive stared skeptically. “You know Wing?”

“Kid, drop your weapon, and we’ll talk,” the man broached in a gruff voice.

“You first.”

“So you can shoot me? I don’t think so.”

“But you want me to? Fat chance.”

“NOSEDIVE! Drop it!” Wildwing commanded from behind him, and Nosedive actually winced at the harsh tone.

“But Wing, he’s—”

Inexorably, Wildwing placed his hand over his little brother’s launcher and ripped it from the teen’s hand.

“Hey!”

“Go wait outside!” Wildwing ordered without room for retort.

Nosedive utilized his favorite word of the day. “But—”

Wildwing pointed toward the door. “Go.”

“Fine.” He turned to the unconscious robber on the floor and spat, “You’ve just been bumped off the top of the suck list, dude.” With that, he proceeded out the door, slamming it behind him.

Huffing, he crossed his arms and leaned against the back wall of the bank. It wasn’t like he was totally at fault here. Yes, he did disobey Wildwing, and okay, possibly following his brother into the bank wasn’t the brightest idea he had in a while. But seriously, it wasn’t his fault that there was a fifth robber, and he just happened to have his back to him.

Scowling, he jumped when the back door to the next store opened. A man, a little older than he, stood at the doorway, holding a bag of garbage. He looked wicked enough, his brown hair more of a mullet, while an earring hung from one of his earlobes.

“D—Dude, you’re, like—”

“I know. I know.” Nosedive mentally threw up his hands. “That hockey player on the Mighty Ducks, even though I can’t play for the NHL, but you know, whatever, man.” “No! You’re a duck! An alien talking duck! Cool!”

Nosedive glared at him, shrugged, and proceeded to go back to being angry at his brother. “That’s one way of looking at it.”

The brown-haired teenage threw his bag in the dumpster and walked toward the door. He stopped short, turning his stare toward Nosedive.

Nosedive rolled his eyes. “Thanks, but the freak show is over for today.”

“You just staying out here?”

Listening intently to the conversation in the bank, Nosedive decided the answer was yes. “Well, I’m definitely not going back in there any time soon.”

The man smirked. “You like comic books?”

Nosedive slowly turned his shocked eyes on the man. “Earth has comic books?”

“Totally.” The teen thumbed inside. “Coming?”

Nosedive blinked at him before looking back at the bank. Whispering, “Wing, I’m gonna be next door,” he followed the other teen inside.

!!!

“And then you just disappeared! Do you have any idea what was going through my head at that point?” Wildwing ranted, his voice strained from emotion.

Nosedive keyed in the code to the arena and entered. Of course he knew what his brother was thinking—that Dragaunus had recaptured him and was putting the Stigma back on him. He whined softly. He knew his brother was just concerned and didn’t want him running off by himself, but still, Wildwing had been going strong since the comic book shop. And he blew up there, too.

“I’m sorry, Wing,” Nosedive muttered, walking around the darkened ice. It surprised Nosedive how dark it was, considering the team should have already been practicing. They were over a half an hour late. He dismissed the thought, though, as Wildwing inhaled a fifth wind.

“Sorry isn’t going to cut it, Nosedive,” Wildwing replied sharply. “I have to know where you are at all times.”

“Isn’t that what the homing device in my comm. unit is for?” Nosedive pointed out, holding up his arm, though not even turning to look at Wildwing.

Wildwing frowned and grabbed his brother by the shoulder, whirling him around. “Yes, it is what your comm. unit is for, but for those five seconds, you practically gave me a heart attack.”

“What do you want from me, Wildwing?” Nosedive finally asked harshly. “I said I was sorry. I said I wouldn’t do it again.” He wiggled in his brother’s grip.

“I—I just…” he sighed deeply, running a hand over his eyes. “I just want to make sure you’re safe, Dive, and following Canard and me into a bank and then when you and—”

“Who was that guy, anyway?” Nosedive said, subtly changing the conversation.

Canard smirked at the boy and shook his head.

Wildwing simply exhaled again, then draped an arm over Nosedive’s shoulders, leading the teen toward the locker room. Nosedive looked at the expression on his face. His brother had noticed the change in subject, but it seemed like he knew they were getting nowhere. “That was Captain Klegghorn, the man I asked you to call. He’s our…friend,” he used loosely, “in the police.”

“Oh. So, I guess I’ll meet him again, huh?”

Wildwing stopped before the locker room and stifled a breathless laugh. “Eventually, though I think I’ll let him calm down.” Opening the locker room door, he allowed Nosedive to enter first.

The lights flashed on, blinding the trio of ducks.

Once the initial shock wore off, Nosedive cracked open one eye before his second one snapped to the scene. Across the back wall draped a sign, “Congratulations Nosedive,” though it read more like “Con-tions Nosedive” because of Grin’s head. In front of the tall duck stood the rest of the team, all smiling. Mallory, her hands behind her back, noticeably concealed something.

“What’s going on here, guys?” Nosedive asked hesitantly.

Mallory threw him something, and he caught it, looking down. Suspicious, he raised his head. “The jersey from my locker?” He sniffed it. “Hey, spring time fresh. You washed it! Thanks, but I don’t need a sign for that.”

“Flip it over,” Wildwing instructed, shaking his head.

Nosedive glanced back at him with a mock-annoyed glare, then did as he was told. He stared, dumbfound, at the word across the back. What were they…?

He gasped. His eyes widened. He couldn’t believe what he saw. Sown across the shoulder blades was “Flashblade.”

The NHL had sanctioned him.

He could play hockey!

He turned instantly and jumped into Wildwing’s welcoming arms.

“How? How did you do it? I thought Demon-Spawned was dead-set on not letting me play!”

Wildwing shrugged, grinning. “Let’s just say we bring in the most revenue to the league, and if we didn’t play, Bettman would be in serious trouble.”

“Wait. You threatened not to play?” Nosedive asked, astonished.

“Well, between the thirteen games we took off when you first came,” Tanya responded, “then the month we took off while you were with Dragaunus—”

Nosedive whirled toward his older brother, accusing, “You took off a month?”

“—Bettman knew the NHL couldn’t afford losing the revenue from our merchandise, let alone our games.”

“You took a month off?” Nosedive repeated vehemently at his brother.

Wildwing looked down at the teen thoughtfully. “You were gone, and we looked for twenty-four hours at first. Then, I just really didn’t have the strength to play.”

“Oh,” Nosedive said, crestfallen, as he looked down at his jersey. “I—I didn’t know. I thought you’d just go on, you know? I mean, after what…Never mind,” he recoiled hastily and headed to his locker to change for practice.

“After what Dragaunus said, you thought I would just disown you and go on with life?”

Nosedive halted in front of his locker, sighing deeply. Unable to speak, he simply nodded. Less than a second later, a warm hand touched his shoulder, urging him to look up.

“You know that’s different now, so just forget it, okay?” Wildwing said. He regarded the rest of the team. “We have a game in three days versus the New York Rangers, so let’s get to practice.”

!!!

Nosedive sighed loudly, sitting on the bench. One leg on the board’s edge, the other hitched up to his chest, he stared absentminded at the arena. He took a deep breath, savoring the smell of ice and even a hint of beer and popcorn. In his mind, he imagined what it would like the day of the game when he actually graced the ice with his presence. He could hear the chants, the roar of the crowd, the sound of blades scraping off the first layer of ice, the crumble of the bodies slammed against the board.

It would be Heaven.

“Hey, what are you doing up here? I thought we were heading back to the movies.”

Nosedive shrugged as the door to the bench opened, and Wildwing’s boots squeaked against the wet floor. “I just needed some time to think, I guess.”

“You looked pretty spaced out during practice.” Wildwing took a seat next to him and picked up his legs. Crossing them at the ankles, he perched them up on the bench’s edge. “Something you’d like to talk about?”

Nosedive shrugged again. “It’s nothing, Wing. I’m just letting my mind wander.”

“Well, make sure it comes back. If it doesn’t, hunt it down and kill it.”

Nosedive stared skeptically at his brother.

Wildwing shrugged indignantly. “What? It’s an Earth saying.”

“One that should definitely not be repeated.”

Wildwing laughed and ruffled his brother’s newly shortened hair. “Come on, kiddo. Let it go.”

“Let what go?” Nosedive repeated, giving his brother a sideways glance.

“You don’t think I know that you’re still thinking about that month we took off?”

Nosedive snorted. “Well, when you put it that way…” He sighed and glanced out at the ice. “Do you remember the first time we met? You know, after we were split?”

Wildwing sighed deeply, relaxing his back against the wall. “Sure. I remember the mine.”

“No, not then,” Nosedive said, shaking his head. “At that dignitary function on Terra Krost. Remember? You had won that scholarship, and I was bored out my mind.”

Wildwing’s eyes widened, and he gaped at Nosedive. “That was you?”

“Yeah.” Nosedive smirked before his eye level shifted, dejected. He fidgeted with the seem of his jersey. “Do you remember what you asked me that night?”

“Which people won’t try to kill Canard?”

“If our parents would be proud of us.”

Wildwing froze, and Nosedive could practically feel the trembling eyes probing him. A solacing hand touched his shoulder. “Kiddo—”

“I want to help.”

Wildwing almost fell off the bench. Bracing himself by the boards, he let out a deep breath and rubbed the back of his neck. He sat up, placing his flat feet upon the floor to sturdy himself. “I was wondering when this was going to happen.”

Nosedive glared over his shoulder. “I want to help stop Dragaunus, Wing. Let me.”

“Why?” Wildwing demanded. He reorganized himself on the bench and sent his brother a more than slightly penetrating look. “Why would you want to be in the middle of a war when you can just be a kid?”

“Because he controlled my life. If he hadn’t ordered my foster parents killed, then maybe I wouldn’t have become a drug addict. Maybe I wouldn’t have been a slave. Maybe I would have,” he shrugged, “but right now it all traces back to Dragaunus.”

He paused for a moment and continued in a low, hallow voice. “He made me question the one thing in my life I never have—you.” He shook his head and looked out at the arena. “When I was younger, I always looked for you when things got hard. When I was with Falcone, later with Blade and Lucretia, even when Dad and I had our fights and I thought he was going to throw me in the orphanage, I just thought you’d come, and when I really needed you,” he smiled slightly, “you did.”

He clenched his hands in fists. “But he almost took everything from me: my father, my identity, my life, you. I don’t want to go through that again, and I don’t want anyone else to, either. I want to help stop him. I know I can.”

Wildwing stared at him for the longest time, his eyes darting back and forth as if searching for something in Nosedive’s eyes. The boy returned the glare, simply waiting for some sort of recognition.

Finally, Wildwing scowled, “No.”

“Why not?” Nosedive challenged.

“For a multitude of reasons.” Wildwing put up a finger. “Because your reasons are wrong. You want to make up for a life and sins that you committed when none of it was your fault.”

Nosedive rolled his eyes.

Second finger. “You are too young.” Third finger. “You were just freed of the Stigma. If Dragaunus were to capture you again, I have no doubt he’d put it back on in a heartbeat.” Fourth finger. “You’re too young.” Fifth finger. “Oh, yeah, you’re too young.”

“Uh, out of those five reasons, three were the same,” Nosedive rejoined.

“It weighs that much,” Wildwing retorted. Seeing the disappointment in Nosedive’s face, the older brother added, “Look, it’s not that I don’t trust you. I just want you to be safe.”

“Wildwing, don’t you understand? I want to do this! I need to do this. I need to face him, just like you need to. Mom and Dad gave their lives for me, so I could live.”

“So we could live.”

“And what did it get them, Wing? We were separated, they from us, and you from me. I don’t want to be separated again. I want to be with you, not just at home but when you fight, and it’s not like I’d be doing it alone. The team will be there.” He added more poignantly, “You’ll be there. Let me.”

Wildwing took a deep, bracing breath. He glared tensely at Nosedive before shaking his head lowly. Scowling out loud, he grumbled, “Fine.”

“YES!”

“But,” he pointed a finger directly at his little brother, “you’re going to have to train with Canard and me, and learn how to fight and defend yourself. You’re not going to like it in the least, and if you bail on it once, that’s it. You’re done. Got it?”

Nosedive grinned and saluted. “Yes, sir, captain, sir!”

Wildwing tussled his little brother’s hair again, then nodded toward the door. “Come on. Let’s go collect Canard and hit the movies again.”

Nosedive smirked as he headed out. “So, is your favorite drink still a red dinosaur?”

Wildwing swatted his head.

!!!

Dragaunus stood in front of the viewer screen. His body was slowly healing, while his mind was a keen as ever. He narrowed his eyes, staring into the void of space.

Behind him, Chameleon squirmed uncomfortably. It was not like Draguanus to be so quiet. “Boss?”

“Leave me,” the overlord ordered dismally.

“Milord,” Wraith started, only for Dragaunus to whirl on his heel, smoke permeating the air from his nostrils.

“I said ‘LEAVE!’ ” He ripped a small monitor from the console and chucked it as the three henchmen. Blasting at their heels, Dragaunus finally straightened his back and turned to the viewer screen when they fled.

Not a day went past that he didn’t think of his son, lost because of those deplorable Featherburns.

He’d lost his slave, in whom at least he could take some comfort in knowing the boy was suffering for what the Featherburns had done to his family.

Sighing disparagingly, he closed his eyes and rubbed his face tiredly. Perhaps he would one day get his revenge and kill all but one of them, leaving him/her to feel the pain he was forced to endure everyday, but at the moment, all he wanted was to retreat and lick his wounds.

Tomorrow, he told himself. Another day, they would feel pain.

“Until then, Wildwing…”

!!!

Nosedive stood in front of the mirror in the locker room showers. It was still a good fifteen minutes before the ducks needed to get ready for their game, but he wanted to make sure he was done dressing before the rest. He was never one for changing in public, even if he knew the people, and his scars only exacerbated his avoidance.

Staring dismayed at his reflection, his eyes landed poignantly on his scar from Falcone, his scar from Siege impaling him, and the claw marks coursing his chest. Luckily, due to the severity of the aforementioned, the whip scars were almost nonexistent, but they were enough. Everything, the whips, the claws, the knives, they were tangible evidence of his life, of his plight.

He closed his eyes, his head ducking. He took a reinforcing breath, bracing himself. He hadn’t looked. He didn’t want to see what would be there for the rest of his life. He would always bear some mark, some evidence of Dragaunus’s crest. He knew that.

When Tanya had seen it, Nosedive hadn’t missed the tears she tried to blink back.

Wildwing asked to see it, but he had refused. He didn’t want his brother to see it…before…

Firming his resolve, Nosedive slowly whirled, so his back faced the mirror. Raising his eyes, he opened them. He focused on the closed showers’ door in front of him. His nerves prickled on end. Dread flooded his being, leaving a coldness seeping into his gut.

Then, before he could change his mind, he peered over his shoulder. What was once macabre black was now the color of his skin, while what once was red was now ruddy-pink lines that coursed his back in the outline of the crest.

He blinked, slightly unhinged. He squirmed, the lines twisting and contorting, but never leaving.

It was there.

It would never come off.

He was forced to bear the scars of his enslavement forever.

He stared that the remnants, still grisly, but they didn’t convey the same loss and terror they once had. He was free. He wouldn’t die when Dragaunus died. Dragaunus wasn’t his lord. There wasn’t anything to draw him back under Draggy’s callous claws. The pain, the emptiness, the void…

The elevator doors opened, and he heard the chatter of his teammates.

…had been filled.

Sighing, he sent his shoulder pads and jersey on the floor a rueful look then walked toward the locker room. Cracking open the door, he saw his teammates opening their lockers and getting ready for the game. Wildwing was sitting on the bench across from his locker, extracting his pads and gear.

“…Wing?” Nosedive called tentatively, to which his brother looked over his shoulder.

“Yeah, baby bro?”

Nosedive, squirming under the sudden stares of his teammates, said, “Uh, there’s something I want to show you, okay?”

Wildwing sent him a bemused look, but nodded instantly. Standing, he followed Nosedive as the teen backtracked into the showers. Shutting the door, Wildwing asked, “What’s up, Dive?”

Taking a collecting breath, Nosedive swiveled, revealing his bare back and the taint.

He held in a shiver and waited. He stiffened involuntarily as Wildwing’s probing fingers prodded his lower back, where the taint had been. The teen hissed lowly when a tinge of soreness radiated. Wildwing must have heard it, for a moment later, the fingers fled.

Nosedive turned around, meeting his brother’s worrisome gaze. He rubbed his forearm nervously. “It’s off.”

Wildwing smiled slightly. “Yeah, it is.”

“I have a scar.” Nosedive looked away, not being able to meet his brother’s eyes.

“Yeah, but that’s all it is now,” Wildwing said, gripping his brother’s shoulder. “It doesn’t make you any less free.”

“But—”

“We’re all scathed, baby bro, one way or another,” Wildwing said soothingly, urging his brother to look up. He graced him with a warm smile. “Just because you can see his mark doesn’t mean you’re any different or Dragaunus’s territory.

“You’re who you want to be, not what someone else deems you.”

Nosedive jerked away. “What happens if I don’t know who that is anymore? What if who I thought I was maybe I never was? Or I’m so damaged that I can never be that person again!”

“Just because you didn’t know you were stained for thirteen years doesn’t make you any different,” Wildwing assured, “and just because you don’t remember doesn’t mean that others don’t. I know who you are.”

“But you were right! I didn’t fight him. I believed him, Wing,” Nosedive revealed, demoralized, slumping against the wall. “I trusted Dragaunus. I believed he was right when he said you would never love me for being a slave. I was so sure.” He ducked his head and blinked back the tears glistening in his eyes. Reticently, he said, “I believed him when he said I was a slave. I didn’t fight him, Wing. I didn’t rebel. I just… surrendered and accepted it and let him do what he wanted and to hurt you and—”

Wildwing closed his eyes, his expression weary as if he, himself, lived through the torment. “Dive—”

“I don’t dream about Siege’s hands anymore,” Nosedive sighed, not venturing to meet his brother’s eyes. He didn’t have enough courage for that. “I dream about how Dragaunus used to touch my back right where the Stigma was just to affirm that I was his.”

“But you never were,” Wildwing said simply.

Nosedive’s head perked up. “What?”

Wildwing smiled gently down at him. “If you were willing to rebel against him enough to steal the steel, then you still weren’t his.”

“But he…broke—”

Wildwing grabbed him by the beak just because he could. “If he really broke you, then why didn’t he know who was on the team? Why didn’t you tell him when we were going to attack the Master Tower or give him any of our codes here? Why did Wraith have to mind-rape you?”

Nosedive froze.

“Don’t you get it?” Wildwing demanded. “Yes, you were brainwashed. Yes, you were tortured. But you were never his, and you never will be. Not if you don’t want to be.”

Nosedive reclaimed his beak. “I went back to him, Wing.”

Wildwing shrugged. “I didn’t say you didn’t make a few dumb mistakes.”

“HEY!”

“And if you need a warm touch…” Wildwing trailed on cryptically. Abruptly, he tugged his brother off the wall and pulled him into a quick hug, wrapping one arm tightly about his brother’s shoulders. Nosedive gazed up uncertainly at Wildwing—until he felt his brother’s right hand press until it was flat against the small of his back. This time, he didn’t flinch. It didn’t have the same meaning as Dragaunus’s or the same demoralizing feeling or the pain. It was meant to reassure him, to relax him, to show his brother’s love—which it did.

Wildwing leaned his head forward and said truthfully into his little brother’s ear, “And if you ever forget who you are, I’ll be here to remind you.” He pulled away and ruffled his astonished Nosedive’s hair. “Now, come on. Why don’t you finish getting changed. We’ve got a game to win.”

After his brother started toward the door, Nosedive blurted abruptly, “Are you proud of me?”

Wildwing looked back at him. “What?”

Sighing disparagingly, Nosedive reiterated, “Are you proud of me? Even though you know…about the d—drugs and being a slave and just…everything…are you still proud of me?”

Wildwing narrowed his eyes toward his brother. “Nosedive, in my eyes, you never fell from grace.” When his little brother sent him a look of confusion, he walked over and grabbed his brother’s shoulder. “You are the same baby brother I remember all those years ago in the orphanage, and you don’t hate me for not saving you.”

“It wasn’t your—”

“It doesn’t matter, does it? It’s over now, and you survived.” Wildwing nuzzled his brother’s brow. “Don’t lose that light, baby bro. Please don’t.”

Nosedive grinned slightly before his face darkened. “You didn’t answer my question.”

Wildwing smirked and ducked his head to look into his brother’s eyes. “I’m always proud of you.”

“Would they be?”

The older brother needn’t ask who they were. “Without a doubt.”

!!!

Nosedive sat on the edge of the locker room bench, fully dressed and ready to play. Immersed in a comic book, he completely and utterly ignored his brother, who stood at the opening of the room, discussing strategies for the game. The entire team listened intently and interjected when necessary, except Nosedive.

“Bro?”

Nosedive didn’t listen, his head bobbing up and down from the music blaring from his MP3 player, while he was thoroughly engrossed in his comic book.

“Dive?”

He flipped the page, and his eyes followed to the next cell—

The comic book was ripped from his hands.

“Hey! I was reading that!” he screamed indignantly, glaring up at his brother.

Wildwing’s beak moved in a vehement motion, but no words befell upon his ears. Nosedive extracted the earphones from his ears. “Huh?”

Wildwing rolled his eyes. “Do you know even who we’re playing tonight?”

Looking away, Nosedive thought for a moment. His face scrunched with deep ridges of contemplation, while his eyes squinted. “Uh…it slipped my mind at the moment.”

“Do you have any idea who the leading scorer on the team is?”

“Uh, I’ll have to get back to you with that.”

“Well, you better get back to me quickly because you’re going to be playing against him all game.” The captain retreated to the front of the room, tossing the comic book carelessly into his open locker.

Nosedive’s eyes widened. “Uh, Wing, could you, maybe, repeat that?”

“If you were listening, I wouldn’t have to repeat it.” Sighing exasperatingly, Wildwing said, “Dive, we’re playing the New York Rangers. You’ll be against Jaromir Jagr. He’s currently the number four scorer in the NHL and has the most points overall. He has had a lot of experience, so I expect you on him all night.”

Nosedive raised his hand. “Uh, do you think that’s a good idea? I mean, it’s my first game. Do you really want me on him?”

A few absent chuckles sounded about the room, as if what he said was a private joke.

Stiffing a laugh, Wildwing replied, “Do you have any idea how fast you skate?”

Looking for the imperativeness of the incongruous statement, Nosedive nodded tentatively. “Uh, yeah. 8.5, blue line to blue line.”

“No one in the NHL can skate faster than 9.3 seconds. Trust me. You’ll do fine. Just keep him on, and your first game will end in victory.”

He once more put up his hand, and Wildwing rolled his eyes. “Dive, all I’m asking is for you to pay attention. You don’t have to raise your hand.”

“You said ‘all game.’ Aren’t I splitting left wing detail with Canard?”

Wildwing shook his head. “Do you listen to a word I say?”

Nosedive nodded. “Every so often I pick something up.”

Wildwing opened his beak to retort, but in the end decided against it. It just took too much energy. “You’re decent enough with face-offs as it is, so we’re going to spread you around the positions. Sound good?”

“And if it didn’t?”

“See, this is why having a big brother as the leader isn’t always a good thing,” Wildwing commented with a smile, then looked at the time. “Okay, guys. Let’s do it.”

Nosedive grabbed his helmet from his locker, strapping it on. As he headed out the door, he caught Wildwing’s eyes.

Wildwing smiled fondly at him. He clasped his little brother on the shoulder. “Relax. You’ll do fine. I have faith in you.”

Nosedive returned the smile. “I know…” when no one else did.

He waited in the tunnel before the ice while the rest of the team skated to warm up before the game.

“AND THE STARTING LINE- UP FOR YOUR MIGHTY DUCKS OF ANAHEIM: IN GOAL, NUMBER ZERO-ZERO, WILDWING BRONZEPLUME!”

Nosedive watched his brother skate to the blue line and stared at him as if seeing him for the first time and at the same time as he always had. There were so many things he wanted to tell him, to apologize to being so blind, for being so much of a hassle, for causing him so much grief; however, his fears were silenced by a single look from his older brother. No words were needed. He loved his brother, and his brother loved him.

Nosedive started jumping up and down in anticipation as the rest of the team was called. Looking down at his uniform, his eyes hung poignantly at the space between his gloves and his jersey—his wrists. They were different for some reason, different then they had been for a while.

They were bare.

He reached his hand around his back. Probing under his jersey and through a little hole in between pads, he felt his back and the ridges that were there.

And that’s all they were. Scars. Not a taint. Not a Stigma. Just scars.

Sure, they might be the remnants of his past, but that wasn’t his present. And his future? Who knew, but as he looked out at the team, at his brother, he knew he could handle whatever came his way.

And for the first time in seventeen years, everything was all right in Nosedive Flashblade’s world.

He closed his eyes, savoring the words that boomed in his ears. “AND WELCOME TO THE MIGHTY DUCKS FOR THE FIRST TIME, STARTING ON LEFT WING, NUMBER THIRTY-THREE, NOSEDIVE FLASHBLADE!”

Looking up, Nosedive met his brother’s smile and skated into the pandemonium to join him.

THE END