Summary: What do you say to a person during their last minutes?
“Live Forever”
“Hey, Wing. Do you realize that we’d be on Puckworld right now if we hadn’t listened to Phil?”
“Do you realize that Earth would be under Dragaunus’s rule, and he probably would have come after Puckworld again? Then, of course, we would probably still be fighting him, just on Puckworld.”
“But we’d be on Puckworld.”
“But we could’ve been killed in the second invasion.”
“Huh. So…really…Phil saved our lives.”
“That’s one way of looking at it.”
“Disturbing way. We might be indebted to him.”
“How about we make a pact not to tell him?”
“Sounds good. When I get out of here, we’ll curl pinkies and kiss thumbs.”
“Deal. How about I also take you to that movie you wanted to see? What was the name…?”
“Alone in the Dark? Thanks, but I’m no longer interested. How about something nice and bright? White Noise sound good?”
“Ah, Dive? For some reason, I don’t think that’s nice and bright.”
“Yeah, well, it’s either that or Elektra.”
“Huh. Most disturbing movie of the year or most disappointing movie of the year? I’m going to have to get back to you.”
“Sure. You know, this would be more comforting if your voice was—oh, I don’t know—more girlish. Oh! And you were telling me what you’re wearing.”
“I’m not doing the voice, but I’m wearing my usual armor and teal suit.”
“Uh…that was not the desired effect.”
“What effect?”
“Disgusted.”
“Ouch. Thanks.”
“Well, no offense, big bro, but you’re just not sexy.”
“None taken. Do want me to get Mallory or Tanya?”
“EWW! No way! Gross! Ack!”
“…”
“…Wing? You still there?”
“Yupper.”
“Good. *sigh* I just thought you were cut off…or you left…or something…”
“Nope. Tanya assured me we have enough power to talk until the Chicago Blackhawks become a winning team, Dr. Droid actually wants to be human, or the guys get the factory off your head—whichever comes first.”
“Got ya.”
“And I’m not going anywhere, so you don’t, okay baby bro?”
“…Wing?”
“Yeah?”
“Don’t freak out, but my shoulder’s wet and sticky, and I can’t move my arm.”
“…Oookay. Can you see it?”
“Frankly, don’t wanna and can’t anyway. Ever read Batman?”
“Uh, no.”
“Rich guy dresses up in gray and black tights, goes out at night to fight the bad guys.”
“Okay, I’m up-to-date. Will there be a test?”
“He wears night vision lenses for a reason. Right now, I’m beginning to understand why. Hey, why can’t you see it? Aren’t you wearing the Mask?”
“I gave it to Canard to help find you. Hear anything yet?”
“*gasp* Am I supposed to?”
“Ah…never mind. You want me to try the voice?”
“NO!”
“Okay, just checking.”
“Geez, Wildwing, are you trying to scar me for life?”
“You asked me.”
“Regretting it.”
“…Hold on a sec, Dive.”
“Sure, put the duck stuck under tons of steel and concrete on hold.”
“…”
“Wildwing? Hel-lo? You there? Is this thing on? Fine, don’t pay attention to me. I’m just going to have to make you. *gasp* Bum, bum, bum, another one bites the dust…Stars, this hurts. What the heck is sticking out of me? Wraith’s staff? *gasp* Bum, bum, bum, another one bites—me, ouch…”
“Don’t quit your day job.”
“Shut up.”
“Don’t you have any original comebacks? This is beginning to sound like a repeat of our morning routine.”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa! First off, I say, ‘Shut up, broweed! And stop scheduling practice at six!’ Then, I throw a pillow at you, which, personally, I think my aim is getting better. Thirdly, you’re making fun of your dying brother. Aren’t you the model big bro?”
“You’re not dying, my little, overreacting brother.”
“Can’t feel my legs anymore. Even you can’t tell me that’s a good sign.”
“That’s a good sign.”
“Oh! Oh! I know that tone! That’s the I’m-shaking-in-my-webbed-foot-booties-but-I-don’t-want-my-baby-bro-to-know-that tone. *wheeze*”
“Shut up.”
“Quit stealing my lines.”
“Then shh you.”
“Batman wears what?”
“Um…black and blue spandex?”
“He’s not a walking contusion! Gray and black tights. You’re failing, by the way.”
“Wanna give me another?”
“Okay, to win Final Jeopardy: This movie is what Wildwing is going to take his little brother to see.”
“Hide and Seek.”
“You’re getting a kick out of this, aren’t you?”
“Are you kidding? I’m missing Numbers! Not to mention, I think Phil had something for you today. Was it a modeling job? Jeans again…or was it CCM gear? I forget.”
“Oh, I’m so happy I’m trapped under here. Sure, I’m dying, but at least I’m going to the grave knowing I’m ticking Phil off. Why don’t I get up and do a little dance? Make a little love…get down tonight! Bum, bum, bum, bum. Get down tonight!”
“You’re enjoying this too much.”
“Enjoying dying…now, there’s something
you don’t hear everyday.”
“You’re not dying!”
“Who are you trying to convince, *wheeze* *wheeze* me or you?”
“You know what I was just thinking?”
“*gasp* Trapped under a factory and a mind-reader. I’m two-for-two today.”
“I was remembering the time you were checked head first into the goalpost.”
“Oh, not this—”
“Now, anyone else would have just laid there and waited to be carried off the ice, but not my little bro—”
“Don’t make me kill you.”
“Sure, you’re trapped under eighty tons of steel and concrete. I’m shaking in my webbed-foot booties.”
“AHH!”
“Anyway, my baby brother refuses to be taken out of the game. He gets up, dusts himself off, skates into the offensive zone, scores the game-winning goal, and then glides up to the player who cross-checked him. Of course, he decks the wrong person in his double vision…”
“You want me to *gasp* kill myself, don’t you?”
“Now, this starts an all-out brawl on the ice, but my presumptuous little brother is already unconscious, mind you—”
“*gasp* You love torturing me, don’t you?”
“Hey, it’s in my job description.”
“Where?”
“Read the fine print, little bro.”
“Remind me to *wheeze* do that with my contract after I *gasp* get out of here. I don’t *huff* want a repeat with Duke. I want to get *gasp* the girl next—shit. I just realized *huff* there won’t be a next *puff* *gasp*”
“You okay, Dive?”
“*cough* I just never thought…you know.”
“No, I don’t know. What?”
“I guess *wheeze* everyone thinks it won’t happen *huff* to them. I guess everyone thinks it *gasp* won’t catch up with them. *huff* I just thought, you know, *huff* *gasp* I’d live forever…”
“D—Dive? Stay with me, little brother.”
“You know what I’m *cough* gonna miss? Sunday movie *gasp* night…fighting the good fight…*huff* hockey *gasp* games…working for Mr. Ducese…*cough* Playing behind his *cough* *cough* place…pranking *gasp* Mallory…learning from Duke…*cough* Grin’s *hack* weirdisms…*huff* Tanya’s big sister… *gasp* attitude…
“Dive…”
“Mom and Dad…*wheeze* Canard *cough* tendency to *wheeze* patronize me…but you know *wheeze* *wheeze* *cough*…what I’m gonna miss *cough* most?”
“Stars, Canard, guys, where the hell are you?”
“*cough* This…you.”
“…”
“…”
“…Dive, don’t you dare give up! If you give in, I’ll hunt you down! Do you hear me? You’ll never hear the end of it! I’ll follow you, and then I’ll…I’ll…you can’t leave me, Dive. You just can’t…please, don’t…”
“*cough* *hack* *wheeze*”
“Dive? Can you still here me?”
“Hmm…”
“DIVE!”
“…”
“NOSEDIVE! ANSWER ME!”
“Wildwing?”
“Canard? Did you find him? Is he…”
“Tanya’s looking over him now, but he looks so ravaged. A gash bleeding from his forehead, probably tons of broken bones…and he has a rebar jutting out of his shoulder, Wing. It’s bleeding pretty badly...”
“…”
“It doesn’t look good, Wing.”
“Scan him with the Mask, Canard. See if there’s any internal damage.”
“Huh. Well, I’ll be damned. The Mask says there’s no damage to his organs or anything…well, other than that pole…Tanya’s giving me a thumbs-up. Looks like the kid’s going to be okay. Stars, he must have a guardian angel or something…”
Wildwing broke the connection as he closed his eyes solemnly. He looked to the sky and sighed, releasing his pent up anxiety and an unfathomable mass of relief. As his drained body slid down the side of the Migrator until his elbows rested on his knees, his breathing evened. His demeanor crumpled; his shoulders shook.
And he wept.
THE END