Disclaimier: Angelbaby owns Shane!
“Separation
Anxiety”
Chapter One: Riff
It wasn’t the first time he had seen his son like this,
Harper Flashblade reflected darkly, and he doubted it
would be the last. Standing in the doorway of their house, the father looked
down at his teenage son, the boy sitting on the front stairs, gazing up
thoughtfully at the stars. A brief, reminiscent smirk edged onto the corner of
his beak as he remembered how his best friend used to do the same thing when he
was stressed and worrying about his wife. It was only fitting that when
Nosedive worried about his brother, he did the same thing. The marvels of
nature versus nurture never ceased to amaze Harper, nearly ten years after
adopting his son.
Opening the door, he walked out onto the stoop and let the
door click shut behind him. Sighing, he took a seat next to the teen and gazed
heavenward.
“Huh? They don’t seem to have changed since last night. Still there. Still glowing.”
“Actually, they probably haven’t glowed in a thousand years
or so,” Nosedive commented dryly, leaning back onto his elbows.
“Then what’s so mystifying about them?”
Nosedive shrugged absently. “I dunno.
I guess…never mind.”
“You’ve been out here a lot lately,” Harper pressed,
glancing over at his son. “There’s got to be something about them that
captivates your attention like this.”
The teen shrugged again.
“Kiddo, what’s wrong?” Harper spurted, his voice tinted
with worry. He hadn’t wanted to sound so concerned, but it couldn’t be helped.
He was that concerned.
“Nothing, Dad, okay? It’s nothing,” Nosedive dismissed
quickly, maybe too quickly.
“Doesn’t sound like nothing. Definitely isn’t nothing when I get a call from the principal, and he tells
me you beat up three upperclassmen.” Harper regarded his son with a steady
glare. “That isn’t nothing, son.”
“They were being jerks!” Nosedive defended indignantly.
“And they attacked me.”
“Nosedive, that’s not like you. You don’t use violence as a
way to handle your problems. If I remember correctly, you were the one who told
me to get in touch my peaceful side and quit the army.”
“I told you that you needed a more peaceful karma,”
Nosedive corrected.
“Don’t change the subject, kiddo. You’re still in trouble.”
Harper said, playfully smacking his son on the back of his head. “Now, come on,
Dive. What did they say?”
Another shrug.
“Did they make fun of you again for
getting trapped by Dragaunus? About living on Earth
for a while? Did they want to see the remnants of the Stigma?”
Nosedive rolled his eyes, but remained silent and looked
upward again to stare at the stars.
Harper didn’t like this. His son always talked to him,
always told him what was wrong. That meant whatever was bothering Nosedive was
painful and too close to his heart.
“Son,” Harper said with a forlorn sigh, “is this about Wildwing?”
Nosedive’s head dropped to his chest, and he stared
bitterly at the ground. “He said he wouldn’t be gone long. He said a few weeks,
tops,” he griped despairingly.
“I know, but he’s looking for his family. He’s probably somewhere
where the communications lines haven’t been reconnected yet.”
“It’s been five months, two since he called! He said he
would contact me every week!” The teen burst suddenly, sitting up and dragging
a hand through his long hair. “What happens if he’s dead? What happens if he
went to the front lines to find Shane, and he was shot or something! I would
never know, and here I am, pining away for him like a stubborn ass, waiting for
him to come back, and he died a day after calling me!”
Harper wrapped a tight arm around his son, offering a
demonstrative squeeze. “Hey, come on. Wildwing’s
fine, all right? And to prove that, first thing tomorrow, I’ll go and check on
the K.I.A. list, but you’ve got to promise me something if I’m going to shuffle
through thousands of names.”
“Like what?” Nosedive grumbled.
“You’ll stop beating people up at school. The principal was
this close,” Harper indicated with a space between his forefinger and thumb,
“to suspending you. One more fight and it’s a week out, and you know what that
means.” His voice was full of knowing mirth.
Nosedive sighed exasperatingly. “Aw, come on! Do not make me work for you and your
general friends. I’m eighteen now. I’m above that. And it’s totally bugging!
‘File this!’ ‘Don’t forget to give this to General Bah-Bah!’ ‘And you better
not get pizza stains on that, or I’m telling your father!’ ”
“You’re not above filing and being a go-for as long as you
live under this roof, kiddo.”
“Ah, bite me, Dad.”
“What?”
“Ah…” Nosedive laughed nervously, “It’s just an Earth
saying, Dad. Means…uh… ‘Fine,’ you know? ‘Got it’ type of thing.”
“Why do I have a feeling you’re making that up?” Harper
shook his head. “When Wildwing gets back, I’m asking
him what that means, and you’re in big trouble if it means something
different.”
“If he gets back…”
“You’re moping too much,” Harper reported disapprovingly,
nudging his son in the gut. “Look, I don’t know if the last two years have
sucked your memory, but your hatching day is coming up next week. We still have
to make plans. C’mon, where do you want to go?”
Nosedive thought for a moment, eyes focusing on the ground
pensively. His smooth forehead scrunched with little crinkles. Finally, he let
out an aggrieved sigh. “You know, Dad, I really don’t feel like going anywhere.
Can’t we just stay home?”
“Sure we can, kiddo, but I really want to get you out of
here. All you’re doing is to getting into fights and worrying about your
brother. Can’t I at least take you snowboarding? You love doing that.”
“Wildwing took me…back on Earth…”
His voice trailed off, and he once more looked for solace from the stars.
Harper rubbed the back of his neck and scowled. “Fine. We’ll stay home, but I’m getting you out of the Metro
later this year, okay? You’ll come with me on a business trip or something, and
we’ll get away for a few days. Sound good?”
He shrugged. “Yeah. Great.” His
words were flat, devoid of feeling.
Okay, time to bring out the big launchers…
“Well, if we’re not going away for your hatching day, a
colleague of mine expressed interest in meeting you and said next week would be
a great time for him. Is that okay?”
“Sure. Whatever.”
Maybe he could get a three-word answer next. “It’s on your
hatching day.”
“What!” Nosedive rebelled, which gained a smirk from
Harper. “Dad, come on! I’ll meet another one of your boring coworkers who have
an affinity to know the Mighty Ducks or ‘the kid with Dragaunus’s
Stigma’ but come on! On my hatching day?”
“Oh, come on,
Dive,” Harper mimicked his son’s tone almost perfectly. “It’s only for an hour.”
“Hmmp. Five
minutes.”
“Forty-five.”
“Ten.”
“Thirty.”
“Fifteen.”
“Twenty-five.”
“Eighteen.”
“Twenty.”
“Eighteen.”
“Twenty.”
“Eighteen.”
“Twen-ty, and I keep this up as long as you can.”
Nosedive grumbled, then put out his hand. “Fine, twenty.
You know, Dad, you drive a hard bargain.”
Harper smiled, accepted the hand,
and wrapped an arm around his son’s shoulders. “Nosedive?”
Nosedive looked up at his father. “Yeah, Dad?’
“You are stubborn.”
“Well, it runs in the family.”
“…Don’t I know it.
You know, your father—”
Nosedive snorted, scoffing,
“Nurture, Dad. It’s all from nurture.”
*^*^*
Harper looked down at his watch for
the fifteenth time and scowled. Nosedive was late. Not that he expected
anything different, but he emphasized the necessity to be on-time, if not
early, for this function.
Harper glanced down at this clock
again. “Damn it.” It hadn’t even been a minute. Crossing his arms with a huff,
he looked back at the blue colonial house with red shutters and a white door.
It faintly resembled his and Nosedive’s house on the other side of the Metro,
but was bigger than theirs by far. However, the neighborhood was almost
identical. It was a place to raise kids, as he knew well. Prior to adopting
Nosedive, he had looked in this area. The only thing that kept him from buying
was the person living in this house behind him.
A faint roaring caught his
attention, and the general turned on his heel. Ah, finally. Nosedive turned
onto the road, then barreled down the street, driving
faster than legally possible, his motorcycle growling out exhaust. Screeching
to a stop behind his father’s car, he kicked down the stand and un-straddled
his bike.
“You’re late,” Harper grated,
striding up to his son.
Nosedive sent his father an
exasperated glare, then tugged off his helmet. “No, I’m not. I’m right on time. Get a new watch.” He raked a hand through his straggly
hair, then pulled back his leather jacket’s sleeve to
reveal his watch.
“Your watch is late.”
“Your watch is early.”
Harper grabbed his son’s wrist as
the boy went to put his helmet down, and stared at it ruefully. “Yours is Earth
junk.”
Dropping his helmet with a clunk,
Nosedive studied the watch. “No, it’s not. You brought it for me last—” He
stopped in mid-sentence, eyes widening at the weasel peeking out of the side of
it. “Huh. Well, what do ya know? It is.” He shrugged,
then unzipped his leather jacket. Under the teal coat
was a white shirt with a teal and maroon over shirt that cut just below his
jeans’ waistband. A brown, wooden chain snuggly held his neck, but it, in no
where shape or form, resembled the brilliance of the H.O.C.—Key.
Harper looked away,
remember with disconsolate disdain how hard it was for his son to give up the
lavaliere. It had to be preserved for future generations, the military
scientists and lab rats had deemed. The Prime Leader had agreed with a morose
heart, and Nosedive was forced to relinquish his relic. It seemed his son still
needed something around his neck, though, no matter how mundane.
As his son looked up at him, finally
presentable for the introduction, Harper headed toward the door. “Now, please
try to be civil, Nosedive. I know you don’t want to do this, but it’s only
twenty minutes.”
Nosedive climbed the stairs to the
door, side-by-side with his father. “Not according to my watch. Seventeen
minutes and twenty-six seconds.”
“The time starts when the door
opens, and you’re getting a new
watch.” He affirmed brusquely, depressing the doorbell. A ring clanged inside
the home, causing Nosedive to sigh in mute frustration.
“Lighten up, will you?” Harper
murmured under his breath. “You’re acting like I’m bringing you to a dignitary
function.”
“I hate those, but these,” he motioned furiously with his
hand, “are worse. All these people fawning over me and
sending their daughters my way like I’m on The
Bachelor. Then, I have to
politely reject them a rose before they burst into tears when I say I’m seeing
someone.”
“But you’re not seeing someone,”
Harper pointed out.
“But they don’t know that.”
The door handle swiveled with a
creak, grabbing Harper and Nosedive’s attention.
“Be nice,” the father reminded
tersely.
“Nineteen minutes, fifty-eight
seconds,” Nosedive claimed, equally as crisp.
Harper elbowed his son in the side,
as he put on his company smile.
“Hey, Harper,” the
tan mallard in the doorway greeted, putting out his hand. “Good to see
you again.”
Harper accepted with the hand and
shook it firmly. “Nice to see you, too, Shane. I’d like you to meet my son,
Nosedive.” He put an arm around his son’s shoulders, and when the teen refused
to even meet eyes with the tan mallard, slapped the boy lightly up the back of
his head.
“Hey,” Nosedive responded drearily
and gazed up.
The tan mallard glared at Nosedive through his sharp, but
amused blue eyes. His face was warm with an inviting smile, while his body was
built, but not overly so. His tan feathers and hair were
a perfect match.
He reminded Nosedive of someone, and it annoyed the younger
mallard to no end that he couldn’t immediately place whom.
“Come on,” the tan mallard urged with a tilt of his head,
“everyone’s out back.”
“Everyone?” Nosedive echoed lowly, but his father just pushed him
inside.
The house was rather large,
Nosedive took note, as he walked about the living room. The area contained at
least two couches and three chairs, signaling a bigger family—or at least
bigger than Nosedive’s. The family must have been affluent, which was
strikingly obvious by the wall-mounted E.W.R., the large entertainment center,
and of course, the crowning evidence, the book on the end table—a
conversation piece. From Nosedive’s experiences, anyone with a conversation
piece needed a conversation piece for
entertaining guests. Any person not rich would only invite friends over,
therefore, never needing the assistance of a conversation piece.
As he walked into the kitchen, he noticed the abundant of
yellow that captivated his sight. The curtains, the oven mitt, the
countertops—it was like he was on the
People—everywhere.
“Uh, what’re all these people doing here?” Nosedive
sputtered nervously. He turned around to flee, only to be caught by his father
and turned back.
“Come on, kiddo.” Harper forced his son with gentle
roughness out the door and onto the deck.
“But—BUT—”
“Surprise!”
Frozen on the deck
from the overwhelming exclamation, Nosedive stared, speechless and unhinged,
out of the throngs of people. They were all older than he by a good number of
years, while each held a cup up as if toasting to him. Scanning over the area,
he noticed the streamers hanging from the side of the deck, while a huge cake
and various foods were arranged on tables throughout the backyard. If he didn’t
know better, he would have swore this was a hatching
day party, but…
“I don’t know one of you,” he finally said out loud,
breathing deep in an attempt to curb his nervous tendency of hyperventilation.
“Sure you do, kiddo,” a white mallard stepped out of the
crowd, putting his cup down on a nearby table.
Nosedive gasped. Same white hair and feathers, same teasing
nickname, same twinkling blue eyes, warm, affectionate smile—
“WILDWING!” Nosedive vaulted off the deck and dove into his brother’s
awaiting arms, gaining a grunt from Wildwing from the
force he slammed into his brother. Nosedive took comfort when those arms
wrapped around him tightly. He nuzzled his beak in Wildwing’s
chest and reveled in the sheer knowledge and solace that his brother was here,
embracing him, and—Thank the Stars!—still alive.
“I missed you, too, baby bro,” Wildwing
commented facetiously.
Nosedive pulled out the embrace suddenly and smacked his
brother on the arm. “Where the hell
were you? You said you wouldn’t be long! You said you’d call every week!”
“I know.” Softer. “I know, but…”
Another smack.
Hard.
“OW! Dive—”
“That was two months ago!” Nosedive shouted at his brother,
his voice rising startling over the crowd. “How could you do that? I thought
you were dead!”
“Nosedive, will you just—” When Nosedive’s fist hurled
toward the older brother, Wildwing seized him by the
wrist, effectively saving himself from more pain. “Will you just listen to me
for two seconds?”
“Why should I? You couldn’t even be bothered to pick up a
phone!”
“Hey, it wasn’t our fault, kid,” Canard interjected
soothingly, slipping from the crowd to Wildwing’s
side. “It wasn’t like we were in an area with communications.”
Nosedive wrestled his wrist from Wildwing,
sparring his brother an acidic look before embracing
his brother’s brother. “Hey, Canard. Long time no
see.”
Sending his brother an amused look, to which Wildwing returned with a roll of his eyes, Canard held the
younger mallard—
“Ow! What the hell did you do
that for?” He reclaimed his arm, rubbing
it vigorously at his bicep.
“Because you were with him! There was no way to get any communications back to me,
especially since you know who’s my father?”
Canard and Wildwing exchanged
commiserating expressions before finally, Wildwing
just shook his head. “Happy Hatching Day, kiddo.”
Nosedive pierced him with a scrutinizing glare. “And that
just makes up for it all.” Sarcasm dripped from his words.
“Hey, we threw you a party,” Canard defended. “What more
could you want?”
“Party!” He suddenly blushed and once more noticed the crowd of
people surrounding the three of them. They stared directly at him with a
mixture of amusement and bewilderment.
“Uh, Wildwing?” Nosedive leaned forward and whispered, “I don’t know any
of these people.”
“I know!” Wildwing exclaimed.
“That’s why I invited them. They’re all my friends and family. I’ve been
searching for you for so long that everyone here knows I have a brother. So, I
figured it would be great for you to finally meet them and vice versa.”
“Oh,” Nosedive nodded, his eyes nervously darting, eyeing
the people.
“Oh, Stars, kid,” Canard said bemusedly, “are you shy?”
“NO!” The nineteen year old scoffed; however, his cheeks
betrayed him as they deepened another shade of red. He was now crimson.
“You are shy! I can’t believe it!”
“Hey guys?” Wildwing addressed
the party-goers. “Why don’t you talk amongst yourselves, huh? We’ll get back to
you.” Draping his arm about the teen’s shoulders, Wildwing
led Nosedive toward his father as a clamor of voices once more rang out in the
backyard.
“Uh, thanks, big bro,” Nosedive sighed, slumping against
his brother. “I just…wow.”
“Don’t worry about it, Dive. I just didn’t think you could get shy. I mean, you were
always rambunctious during hockey games and publicity stunts.”
“Those were strangers, not your family,” Nosedive pointed
out flatly.
Harper shook his head and tasseled his hair. “My son, reticent. When did this happen?”
“He’s afraid of meeting my family,” Wildwing
explained shortly, still holding his brother in an
one-armed hug. “Don’t worry about it, kiddo. The immediate family already loves
you.”
“I haven’t met anyone yet….Well, besides Canard…” His voice
trailed on, confused.
“Really?” The tan mallard to Canard’s left shifted, crossing his
arms. “What do you call me?”
Nosedive studied the tan mallard before transferring his
gaze to the mallard on Canard’s right. He quickly shifted it back. Growling
internally, he slapped his forehead. “Stars! Shane! I—I didn’t even notice. I’m so
dense!” He once again shook the tan mallard’s hand. “Sorry. Sometimes I need a
puck to the head to get things.”
“Ah, more similarities between you and Wildwing,”
the significantly older mallard smirked.
Wildwing scowled derisively at his older brother. “Yeah, well, wait
until you see him eat. It’s a lot closer to you.”
“So, when did you get back?” Nosedive asked. Pushing up
onto his tippy-toes, he glanced over Wildwing’s shoulder.
“Still haven’t grown, have you, kiddo?” Wildwing
laughed, ruffling his brother’s hair.
“Cake,” Nosedive emphasized, bouncing up and down on his
toes. “You have cake!”
“Cake? I hadn’t noticed.” Canard laughed, nicking in chin with
his fist. “You want some, kid?”
“As long as it’s chocolate.”
Shane chuckled at the exuberance bubbling from younger
mallard. “You’re right,” he commented
with a roaring laugh. “I already like this kid.”
Harper glanced down at his watch as he watched Nosedive
meander across the yard. “Fifteen minutes.”
*^*^*
“So, Dive, Harper tells me you’re
getting into fights at school.”
Nosedive froze in his seat, feet up
on the table, fork sticking out of his beak. Eyes wide, practically bugging out
of their lids, Nosedive swallowed hard and tugged the fork from his beak. “When?”
“I’ve been home since late last
week, and,” Wildwing shrugged, “he told me you’re
doing well but almost got suspended.”
Nosedive stared at his brother
incredulously. “You’ve been home since last week!”
“You’re changing the subject,” Wildwing retorted sharply.
“Now you’re changing the subject.”
Wildwing
took a deep breath, letting it out reservedly. “Look, we’ll discuss your
problem first, then mine, okay? Now, why are you
fighting in school?”
Nosedive shrugged absently, giving
his rapt attention to the cake, already mostly eaten on his plate.
“This is as far as I got,” Harper
divulged with a scoff.
“You’ve never been like this, Dive,”
Wildwing eased, his voice tinged with worry. He
placed his cake down on the table and wiped his beak with a napkin. “Come on,
kiddo. Talk to me.”
“It’s nuthin’.
They’re just jerks. Can’t we leave it at that?” Nosedive griped, shoving his
plate away. He wasn’t in the mood to eat anymore.
Canard sent the plate a pointed
glare before shaking his head. “Sorry, kid. It’s not that easy. You can’t just
go around fighting in school. It’s not healthy.”
“Hey, it’s sport to me. They hardly
landed a punch, and there were three of them.” The boy raised his chin
derisively high, a disdainful smirk etched on his beak.
“Three-against-one?”
Shane asked, riveted. “Not bad, kid. Not bad at all.”
“Shane, you’re not helping,” Wildwing let out an aggravated sigh. “Look, Dive, is this
about me leaving? Are you angry at me for not being here?”
Nosedive scowled, rubbing his palm
tensely with the opposite hand’s fingers. “No, I’m not angry about that. I’m
angry you didn’t call, but I’m not angry at you for looking for your family.”
Wildwing
sighed loudly, appealing to his family for some sort of help. Canard simply
shrugged, while Shane exchanged an uncertain glare. He looked to Harper, who
rolled his eyes and finally leaned over to Nosedive.
“Nosedive, we all care about you.”
“Then why does this seem like an
interrogation?” Nosedive shot back.
“Now, I’ve been in an
interrogation,” a fond, accented voice recalled from behind him. “Trust me,
kid. This ain’t nothing like one.”
Startled by the abrupt voice,
Nosedive jumped in his chair and swirled around. “Uncle Duke?”
Duke L’Orange
wore his usual crooked smile that lingered just on the edge of his beak. He
looked almost like a normal duck. Almost. Wearing
faded jeans and a maroon turtleneck, he appeared to be nothing more than a
high-society drake—if not for the trench coat and patched eye.
Tussling the teen’s shorter, blonde hair, Duke redirected his
attention to the table. “You started without me? Wildwing,
you told me you would wait.”
“I would have waited if you would
have called, which, of course, you didn’t.” The younger white mallard said
pointedly, a skeptical smile upon his beak.
“Ah, cover for me, will you? I’m at least trying to act
like a normal uncle.”
Nosedive couldn’t help but scoff in
the form of a disdainful snort. Duke was anything but normal. In the last six
months since the Mighty Ducks have returned home, he had disappeared from
conventional living, even though he had been exonerated by the higher ups of Puckworld of all his crimes because of his role in the
Resistance. He was more of a shadow, popping in and out of Nosedive’s life. The
first time the teen had seen his uncle after he had left initially was at
school. After his first hockey game, Duke had appeared from out of the shadows
of the locker room to congratulate him on the hat trick, and when the teen
leaned over to grab his book bag and asked his uncle if he would join he and his father for dinner, Duke was gone. The second time
was at one of Nosedive’s band’s gigs, and then the former thief disappeared
just as lithely. Since then, practically all the times he had seen Duke were
just as brief, except for one dinner with Harper and he, and while Nosedive had
no evidence to the contrary, he was highly skeptically Duke had returned to a
life of crime.
“So, we’re calling Duke ‘Uncle’
now?” Wildwing’s amused voice pierced through
Nosedive’s contemplation.
“Well, yeah,” the teen replied,
exuberance only exacerbated by Duke’s presence.
He was saved! “I just figured since Dad has no brothers or sisters, this
is the only chance I’m going to call anyone ‘Uncle.’ I mean, I have a better
chance of being called ‘Uncle’, y’know?”
“So.” Duke
dragged a seat over from the edge of the deck and sat down backwards next to
Nosedive, resting his arm across the back. He stared unflinchingly into the
boy’s eyes. “Why are you fightin’ in school?”
“This is a phantasm!” He dropped in
his head into hands. “It’s my hatching day for Stars’ sake! Can’t we just
celebrate me?”
“Nope.”
Shane spoke gently. “Come on, kid. What’s going on?”
“Nothing!”
Nosedive bit with resentment. His hands dropped to his knees in fists. “There’s
nothing going on, okay? What is this? ‘Gang up on Nosedive Day’?”
Duke snorted. “Nah, but it could
be.”
That was a relief—not. “Well, don’t make it. This is
between me and those guys, okay? It’s not my fault
their jealous of me and Wing.”
“Ah, now we’re getting somewhere,” Canard declared
hopefully. He edged up in his seat, leaning an elbow on the table. “What about
you and Wing?”
“Stars,” Nosedive griped under his breath. Placing his
elbows on his knees, he brushed the hair from his face. “Can’t we just forget
it? It’s not like it’s going to happen again, anyway. You guys are back, so
they’ll just leave me alone.” He
scowled, resting his arms across his knees and his head upon them. Now with Wildwing and Canard back in life, they wouldn’t have a
reason to make fun of him. Maybe the Stars liked him after all.
A sudden tension engulfed the table,
noticeable to Nosedive. As he reticently raised his head, a sinking knot formed
in his stomach. His brother wore an awkward expression, one Nosedive couldn’t
quite translate. However, he knew he didn’t like the look of it. His apprehension
only increased ten-fold when Duke laid a comforting hand on his shoulder, and
his father rubbed his back in a consoling rhythm.
“You didn’t tell him, did you?” Wildwing managed to whisper through his tightened jaw.
“Tell me what?” Nosedive looked frantically
from his brother to his father, then back to his brother. “What’s going on?”
Harper simply shook his head. “I
couldn’t. I figured we could wait until after today, but…”
“What!” Nosedive demanded
insistently. “What is it? What’s wrong?”
“Nosedive,” Wildwing
began in a solemn tone. He took a reinforcing breath, then
cursed under it. Rubbing the back of his neck, he let his arm drop and finally
met Nosedive’s eyes unwavering. “Kiddo, Canard and I enlisted.”
Nosedive blinked, pulling his neck
backwards. “Enlisted? In what?”
“In the Legion,” Wildwing
confessed in a curt manner.
“Oh—kay…and…this is a bad thing, why?” He studied his brother through
cynical eyes. It wasn’t like the thought never crossed his mind. It was only
natural with the battles and the remaining Saurians
still on Puckworld that Wildwing
would one day enlist and head into the “uncivilized zones,” as they were
called. Out of reach from communications, deserted sections of the planet with
no civilians, collateral damage, and only the unrelenting warfare between the Puckworld military and the remaining Suarians,
“uncivilized” was the only fitting name for the areas.
Well, except “premature death,”
maybe.
Wildwing
seemed to comprehend his confusion and elaborated, “Nosedive, Canard and I have
been in the ‘uncivilized zones’ for two months now; that’s why I didn’t call
you.”
Oh.
His lungs snagged his breath, failing to take air in.
He didn’t expect his brother to have been out there
fighting already.
His mind shut down as he laboriously had to fight for
oxygen to enter his system.
Wildwing shouldn’t have been out there yet. He needed to train.
That took at least a year.
He blinked; particles of snow filtered into his eye sight,
drowning out his vision in an a blizzard of white.
It was okay, Nosedive told himself. Wildwing
was here now. He had been there, so that meant he was coming home—to stay…right?
As if Wildwing sensed his panic,
the older brother continued forlornly, “I—I—Well, Canard, Shane, and I were
able to get furloughs to come back for your hatching day. We’re only allowed
one per year, and I knew I had to tell you I wouldn’t be back for a while, so…”
“Wait.” Nosedive breathed, his
hands out as if to brace himself for the answer. “Tour?
As in ‘tour of duty?’ You’ve already been assigned a
tour of duty?”
“Yes.”
“When? How?”
Wildwing was hesitant, which unnerved Nosedive to no end.
“Well…When Canard and I went to look for Shane and we found out he had
enlisted, we figured we might as well, and then…”
“Did you know about this?” Nosedive accused his father. He
shook Harper’s hand off his back. “Did you know he enlisted?”
Reluctantly, Harper answered in a flat tone, “Yes.”
“When?”
“*sigh* The
week he signed on. I received a memo from the front lines reporting members of
the Resistance strike force had joined the fight.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Nosedive
spouted breathlessly, horrified.
“I didn’t know how to.”
“I can’t believe this.” The teen
knotted his hands in his hair and shook his head vehemently. “I can’t believe
you did this. I can’t believe all you did this!” He sprang from the table,
hitting it on his way up and knocking over food and drinks. “How could you do
this without even talking to me?”
“Nosedive, it wasn’t like I had a
choice. I was there. I would have to have—”
“What? Walked to the nearest town! Sent a telegraph, a memo, something!” The teen blew out an
aggrieved sigh and affixed with his brother with a
intolerant gaze. “How long?” His demand was gutted,
exasperated.
Wildwing
met his brother’s glare dolefully. In an equally despairing voice, he
responded, “…Seventy months.”
Nosedive closed his eyes,
crestfallen. “That’s five years.”
Wildwing
rose from his seat, only to be met by a hand put up.
The teen didn’t want to be consoled.
It hurt, almost more than when he thought his brother wouldn’t accept him for
being a slave or a former gang member. A searing pain seeped into his chest,
while a furious anger balled in his fist deplored to tears as his hand laxed.
While the thoughts reeled in his
mind unbound, how his brother could die, how the bond they had worked together
to build through overwhelming circumstances could be shattered in the time it
took a Saurian to aim and pull the triggered, how the person who cared for him
when no one else did might not be there the next hatching day to hurt him, one
selfish thought maintained.
“They were right,” he murmured
brokenly. “They were right.”
“Who was right?” Wildwing
echoed unsurely. His voice incensed with volume. “What are you talking about?”
“That you were just concerned with
me on Earth!” Nosedive exploded suddenly. He knew he was wrong. He knew he
shouldn’t, but he was too hurt. The pain was too much to just ignore and go on
with life like nothing was wrong. “That now that you were back on Puckworld, you don’t care about me anymore! And it’s true!
I was only something to amuse you back on Earth! You went back to your family;
you enlisted to be with them. And now here I am, stuck at home and just waiting
to get that damn letter to find out
you’re dead!”
“Who said that to you!” Wildwing demanded. “Who told you that?”
“It doesn’t matter, does it? They were right!”
Stepping on his seat, using it as a platform, Nosedive
vaulted over Duke. Without a glance back, he ripped open the glass door and
dashed into the house.
“NOSEDIVE!” Wildwing shrilled wildly, but it
was too late.
A moment later, the roaring sound of a motorcycle pierced
the silence that had engulfed the party, and the guest of honor was gone.
*^*^*
“Ah, it wasn’t as bad as I thought
it would be,” Tremaine Fowlen
commented as he sauntered out of the movie theatre, stuffing the remaining
popcorn from the bottom of the bag into his beak. His purple-tipped tan hair
swayed in the wind, though it didn’t cross his eyes like his best friend’s did.
Next to him, Nosedive Flashblade scowled bitterly. “This bites.” He stuffed his
hands into his pockets, sheltering them from the biting cold gusts.
“Well, that’s one way of looking at
it.” Crumpling up the bag and depositing it in a nearby trash can, Tremaine thumbed toward the store with the shimmering
yellow sign that read, “Game On Arcade.” “You wanna defeat the evil zombies from the Galaxy Deathra?”
“It bites,” was the only, icy reply.
It was cold enough to freeze the wind.
“Al-righty, wanna
get some pizza?”
“Still bites.”
“Huh. How about practicing with the
band? Kallie and Slapshot
might be up for it.”
“That bites.”
“The band or the
idea?”
“Both bite.”
“Ooooohhhh-kay. Wanna shoot some pucks?”
“Bites supremely.”
Ducking his head, Tremaine peered left, then right with lively eyes. Luckily,
no one was watching or listening to them. “Hockey does not bite, dude,” Tremaine retorted softly, “and watch how loud you’re saying
that. I don’t want to get beaten up on your hatching day.”
“You bite.”
Scratching the back of his head, Tremaine suddenly latched onto Nosedive’s coat and dragged
him onto a nearby bench. He studied his best friend’s look—bedraggled hair,
ruffled clothing, and lost, vacant, ice blue eyes. When his eyes were that
color—whatever was wrong was bad. Really bad.
“Dude, come on. Spill.
What’s got you all peeved?”
Nosedive sucked in a deep, drawing
breath before shrugging helplessly, “Everything just…bites.”
“But I thought you wanted to do
something. You were the one on my doorstep pleading to get out and ‘rock the
world,’ ” Tremaine quipped. “A movie isn’t rocking
the world, dude. Sure, it was Gruesome
Goalie XXXV, but still…ain’t really painting the
town any color.”
“Don’t feel like doing anything
anymore.” Nosedive leaned forward, resting his forearms on his thighs. With a
grim expression and coarse lines of tension etching his face, the teen was the
model of distress.
“Did you have a fight with your
father?” Tremaine posed uncouthly.
A snorted reply.
“Is this about the fight you had in
school?”
“Can we please just get off that all ready?” moaned Nosedive, crossing his
arms.
“Fine,” Tremaine
grumbled. He was almost out of ideas. What else could get his best friend so
riled? Ah…then it hit him like a puck to his stomach. “Nosedive…did something
happen between you and Wildwing?”
“He bites!” He cried bitterly, then leapt from the
bench, hit the retrieval buttons on the heels of his boots, and zipped down the
busy Metro street. He barely avoided slower skaters and walkers as he maneuvered
the hazardous sidewalk.
Tremaine
gasped, beak agape, as he sat on the bench. Blinking, he finally shouted, “What
happened?” before pushing off the bench and hit a button on his boots’ edge. In
a burst of green light, a steel blade materialized on the bottom of his boots.
Furiously, he skated to catch up with his best friend.
It took him a few minutes—Nosedive skated faster than the
wind!—but he finally was able to meet his friend. “Okay *gasp* dude,” Tremaine huffed as he glided off his strain. “Wildwing *huff* and you, what happened? *cough*”
“He just bites, all right?” Nosedive
seethed, slowly his speed. He sheered off the top layer of ice, covering his
best friend’s boots, when he came to an abrupt stop. “I don’t want to talk
about it. Let’s just do something!”
Grasping at every molecule of air, Tremaine
clasped Nosedive on the shoulder and levered himself straight. “Whoa. Hold it. *gasp*
Ever since you’ve been back, it’s been ‘Wildwing
this,’ and ‘Wildwing that,’ and whoever the hell that
Canard dude is.”
“Wing’s twin bro,” Nosedive supplied faintly.
“Yeah, like that isn’t weird.” Tremaine
shook his head. “Anyway, you’ve never talked about your brother like that. I
don’t think I’ve ever heard you put your brother down.”
Nosedive scoffed and twisted out of Tremaine’s grip.
“Dive,” Tremaine called before
Nosedive could skate away, “come on. Don’t do this.”
Turning his back to his best friend, Nosedive bowed his head, eyes squeezed shut in preservation of his dignity. He
didn’t want his best friend to see him cry. He didn’t want to cry. He wanted to be angry. He wanted to be furious at Wildwing for what he did, not…scared.
A clap of thunder boomed throughout the sky as the drifting
gusts begot dark, smoky clouds and cold bursts of air. The wind
whistled pass his ears, tussling his blonde hair about the face. Under his skates, the ice shished when he
shifted his weight from the left skate to the right.
Huffing exasperatingly, Nosedive whirled briskly, catching Tremaine off guard and tugging his best friend into a
nearby alley.
“It’s not fair,” the blonde teen confessed in a soft,
petrified voice. Leaning back against the wall, he collapsed, his shoulders
hunched up, then down in defeat. “It’s not supposed to be like this. We were
supposed to be together, not…”
“Not…what?” Tremaine pushed earnestly.
“Not neglecting you?” A sinister
voice claimed with a chuckle. “Not caring?”
Nosedive raised his head, his eyes
narrowing instinctively. His jaw tightened, as his hands curled into balls.
Under his bangs, vindictive hatred glistened in his eyes. Three boys, older
than he by only a few years, stood in front of Tremaine,
all sporting varsity jackets from their school. The leader was a few inches
taller than Nosedive with short, red hair that accented his wild, vicious
smirk.
“Geez,
Trent, you really know when you’re not wanted, don’t you?” Nosedive spat,
skating in front of his best friend. A rocking guitar player Tremaine was, but fighter? Snow bunnies had a better shot
at defending themselves. “Why doesn’t a house just fall on you, huh?”
“Earth terms, again, Flashblade?”
“Not a big as kicking your
ass—cubed.” A smug smirk loitered onto his beak. His eyes pored over the three
upperclassmen, all with contusions on their faces of some kind.
The two cronies behind
“Nice one.”
“Awesome.”
“I’m not ignored,” Nosedive scoffed,
fuming. “I’m just forgotten about. Get it right.”
“Oh, we’ll get right this time.”
Nosedive found himself cringing at
the sight of the same flaming red hair.
“Nosedive Flashblade,
meet my older brother,”
“Hey, House. Nice to meet you.” the
blonde teen grounded out of his clenched jaw. His slender body automatically
repositioned himself into the fighting stance he had been taught what seemed
like a lifetime ago, a time when his brother watched his back, and he didn’t
face the evils of the world alone.
That time was over, and what was
left in front of him was a thug named Terrance and his cronies.
Stars help him, but he was not
backing down.
Not today.
“Hey! There you are!”
Nosedive would have flinched. He should have flinched, but
his heart wouldn’t let him when the familiar arm draped over his shoulder
blades and clutched him in a one-armed hug. The presence suddenly next to him
was a relief, like the salvation after a phantasm, and he couldn’t bring
himself to push away the warm being holding him close.
“Man, little brother, I’ve been
searching for you everywhere,” Wildwing said with a
thankful sigh and tender squeeze of the younger’s
shoulder. “You should have told me where you were going.” Following Nosedive’s
rapt gaze, the older brother smiled nonchalantly at the thugs. “Hey, you must
be Dive’s friends. I’m Wildwing Bronzeplume.”
Without letting go of his little brother, he stuck out his hand.
“Y—You’re him,”
“You’re the leader of the
Resistance,” Terrance proclaimed, awestruck. His threatening attitude subsided
almost visually. “It’s an honor to meet you.”
“Well…uh, you, too,” Wildwing commented, a smirk upon his beak. He shook each’s hand. “You all know Dive?”
“Yeah,”
Nosedive snorted and rolled his
eyes.
Wildwing
squeezed his brother’s shoulder again, alerting the younger brother of the
plan. Just follow my lead, Wildwing instructed. Yeah, like Nosedive ever did anything
different.
“Well, it was great to meet my
little brother’s friends, especially with my schedule, you know? I travel a
lot,” Wildwing lied casually, but the thugs just
nodded along, “so now that I’m finally back in the
Metro, it’s great to meet the people in Dive’s life.”
Whirling to get out Wildwing’s grip, Nosedive was brought back to his brother’s
side with a single, rough yank.
Wildwing’s coy smile didn’t fade or waver. “You know, I heard there
were these guys giving my little brother a hard time,” he offhanded in a
nonchalant voice that made his threat all the more ominous. “You guys wouldn’t
happen to know who those people are, would you?”
“Uh,”
“Anything that concerns my brother concerns me,” Wildwing felt complied to point out, his words laced with
an unspoken threat. “So, you don’t know them?”
Terrance grabbed his little brother and moved
Wildwing smiled flippantly as he started to walk out of the alley,
motioning for Tremaine to follow. “I’m sure I can
count on you gentlemen to pass along my message, right?”
Terrance nodded rigidly, his eyes
expressing his fear. “Absolutely. No one will touch
your brother.” It was spoken with the same conviction as a sacred vow.
Wildwing
waved his hand and shot them a genuine smile. “Good to know.”
As soon as Nosedive was out of near
range, he heard Terrance berate his younger brother in hushed tones. While he
smirked and realized his brother really could beat up
“What do you think you were doing? I
could have taken them.”
“They’re were four of them, or did I
miscount? And one of them was the Hulk,” Wildwing
fired back. He shook his head and walked to the jeep parked on the street.
“I didn’t need you!” Nosedive
countered, staring at his brother’s retreating back. He didn’t even attain Wildwing’s full attention. “I don’t need you! I would have handled it!”
Wildwing
laughed dryly. “Sure. I would have been getting a death letter way before you.”
“Look, I didn’t need you to come
here and save me!” Nosedive fumed, barely containing his rage as his body shook
vehemently.
“Looks to me like that’s exactly
what you needed.” Wildwing crossed his arms and
leaned backwards on the jeep’s front. “They’re the ones who told you I didn’t
care about you, right? They’re been making fun of you because I haven’t been
around, and so they got the impression I really don’t care.”
“Oh, get off your high horse!” The
younger scowled internally at yet another Earth saying. “You’re not the reason
I got into the fight!”
“Really?” Wildwing furled a skeptical eyebrow. “Because
it sure as hell looks like it.”
Nosedive shook his head. “Ah, just leave me
alone.” He started to skate away before his arm was seized, almost painfully.
“No! You’re not getting away that
easily. Do you know you had us all worried?” claimed Wildwing.
“We didn’t know where you went or if something had happened to you! And if I
would have been two second later—”
“You would have seen me kick that
jumbo-sized thug’s ass.”
“Or I would have needed a towel to
wipe you off the ice.”
A strangled gag constricted
Nosedive’s throat, and he wrenched his arm free from his brother’s steel grip.
“Why do you care anyway? It’s not like you thought of me before.”
The pain was evident in Wildwing’s eyes, and Nosedive felt slightly vindicated. He
didn’t like the feeling of taking pleasure in his brother’s pain, but under the
circumstances, the fire raging in his chest seemed to ease just a little.
“You know that it isn’t true,” Wildwing murmured.
“Really?
Because it sure as hell sounds like it,” the younger brother disputed, equally
as low, using the words his brother had earlier.
They stood on opposite ends of the
sidewalk and avoided meeting the other’s eyes, knowing the pain that would be
reflected. Nosedive crossed his arms,
head ducking, while Wildwing’s hands fell helplessly
to his sides, palm open.
“…Shit.”
The two brothers recognized the
being to their right for the first time. The purple-tipped teenager glared at Wildwing, wonderment filling his eyes, then looked to
Nosedive before cocking his head back to Wildwing.
“It is true!” Tremaine blurted. “You are
related to Nosedive! My best friend is the brother of the Resistance leader! STARS!”
“Thanks for that obvious update. Where have you been for
the last five minutes?” Wildwing snapped.
Nosedive glowered at Wildwing. “Whoa!” He glided to a halt in front of Tremaine. “You don’t have the right to yell at my best
friend!”
“I’m not doing this here!” Wildwing
decreed, storming about the front of his jeep.
He climbed inside and slammed shut his door. “Get in.”
Giving his brother a dubious look, Nosedive shook his head.
“You’re kidding me, right?”
“Dive,” Wildwing seethed slowly,
his anger woven tightly in his words, “we’ll go to your house, okay?”
“You’re not the boss of me. You don’t dictate what I do and
don’t do. Go. Leave. I’ll go home when I feel like it.”
“Dive—” Tremaine started
worriedly, but Wildwing simply cut him off.
“Nosedive,
get in the jeep, or I will put you in this jeep. Got it?”
Nosedive narrowed his eyes, but
something in his gut told him Wildwing wasn’t lying.
He would have cringed when flashbacks of being tied up in the back of the Migrator flickered
through his
conscious, if he didn’t make a point not to. He glanced over his shoulder at Tremaine.
“I’ll call you later, all right?”
“If you’re still
alive.”
“Tell me about it.”
They knocked fists, and Nosedive
reluctantly pulled himself into the passenger seat. “I left my bike at the
theatre,” he informed curtly.
“We’ll get it later,” Wildwing returned just as cold.
Nosedive buckled his seat belt,
crossed his arms, and slumped into the seat. The ride home would definitely be
memorable.
To
his surprise and unhinged chagrin, it was conducted in silence.
TO BE CONTINUED…