“Special Features”

Hey everyone! Here is pretty much a myriad of different writings from the “Fallen Angel” series. Sorry, there is commentary, but feel free to skip.

Drabbles

Commentary: I wrote these for “Cool as Ice” board, which I urge everyone to check out. Pretty much, these came to me due to prompts.

“Promises”

Rating: PG-13 (child abuse)

Character(s): Nosedive (four), Wildwing (eleven; implied)

Word Count: 253

Nosedive looked left, then right, his little dirty face hardly illuminated in the neon lights shining from the streets of Devicena. Content that he was far enough down the alley, the four year old slunk down the wall next to the dumpster until his knees bent to his chest. Wrapping his little arms about his legs, he buried his face in his ripped jeans, his entire body shivering as a chilly gust of wind blew.

His shuddering increased as he remembered what the nurse had said—that he was going home. Home…he didn’t remember home, only the hands…all over him, touching him, clawing at him…He let out a tiny cry has his trembling overtook his little body, the feeling the fingers against his exposed chest.

I’m sorry. I don’t want to leave, but they won’t let me stay.

His shivering stopped, as it always did when he heard the white hatchling voice.

I promise I will come back. I will find you. Trust me. Everything will be okay.

Nosedive sniffled.

Someday.

He didn’t remember the hatchling’s name anymore, only the burning lost in his chest from the day they were separated.

He raised his head and wiped his face with his dirtied, teal jacket. A whistling breeze tore through the alley, wafting his bangs on his forehead and gently brushing his hair against his shoulders.

His brother wasn’t there.

No one was there.

He once more sought solace in his knees, the searing more poignant in his heart.

And he cried himself to sleep.

Commentary: Because I was ambitious, this is Wildwing’s P.O.V. to the other drabble I wrote. It is the extended version from the one on Cool as Ice.

“Intuition”

Rating: PG (emotional)

Character

(s): Wildwing (eleven), Canard (eleven), Nosedive (four; implied)

Words: 235

Wildwing gasped as he awoke, shooting up in bed. His heart thundered in his chest as he panted, one hand clutching his sweat-ridden shirt. Tears poured from his eyes as the scream continued to blare in his ears. Pulling his knees to his chest, he wiped his face in his shirt, yet the tears continued to fall unrestricted.

A soft knock sounded at the door, and Wildwing turned with shimmering eyes to see his twin brother.

“Hey, Canard.”

“You okay, Wing?” the other eleven year old asked, entering the room. He tentatively took a seat on the bed.

Wildwing uncoiled and shook his head. “I still see him, bro, his arms out to me, screaming at me to hold him. I tried to get to him, but the social workers kept pulling me away. They wouldn’t listen to me—to him! Didn’t they hear him! Couldn’t they hear him!”

Canard clutched his adoptive twin brother, as Wildwing sobbed into his shoulder. “I still hear him, Canard…I can still hear him.”

“Maybe you should sleep with a fan or something, y’know, to drown him out?”

Wildwing pulled away slightly, staring at Canard. “I don’t want to drown him out, Canard. I want to comfort him, to stop his crying.”

Canard smiled softly. “You will, Wing. You’ll find again. Until then, others will for you.”

Wildwing looked out his window, beseeching, “Then why does he need me now?”

Deleted Scene

Commentary: This is actually an extended version of the opening scene of the Epilogue: Scar Tissue of “Fallen Angel.” I originally wrote this to show how Wraith extracted the Stigma in such a short period of time—between Dragaunus agreeing and the Raptor plunging toward the ground. However, it didn’t come off very well, or so I thought. So, I just chucked most of it.

Nosedive was nervous—No, that was an understatement if there ever was one. The kid was scared beyond belief. Shuddering, the teen’s horrified eyes followed Wraith about the torture chamber—or at least that was Wildwing figured the room from his brother’s reaction when they had teleported there. The teen practically clamped his hands upon Wildwing’s arm and refused to let go. It was only when Wraith directed Nosedive to sit on the metal table did the teen finally relinquish his brother—and after Wildwing had forcibly pushed his brother to the metal top.

Wildwing glanced about the room. Behind him Siege stood at the doorway—a prevention from allowing them to leave without surrendering the Proteus Chip. Wildwing didn’t send a second glance his way. The burly lizard had teleported into the room not long after they had, and Wildwing hazarded Dragaunus must have freed him when the overlord went to switch to acceleratory power. The walls were metal, and the same crimson color as the rest. However, from his short time in the Raptor, Wildwing could tell the splotches of red on the wall that weren’t the metal. It disgusted and demoralized him to think how much of it was from his baby brother.

Sending a pointed glare of palpable anger at Wraith, Wildwing watched as the mage threw a pinch of this and a handful of that (a black liquor and a purple power, respectfully) into a bowl. After a few words of muttered Saurian, Wraith threw his hands out to the side. From his fingers crackled wavering, royal blue tendrils, whisking in the abrupt gust of wind and flowing about the room in a cyclone energy and Dark Saurian magic. As the whirlwind grew in intensity and reached toward the three ducks, Wildwing stepped in front of Nosedive, as Canard stepped behind him. Activating his shield, Wildwing gasped when the cyclone twisted through his iceshield as if it wasn’t there. He covered his face with his blockers and squeezed his eyes shut against the energy burst.

The wind died down. Then electric crackles ended. Cracking open one eye, Wildwing turned to see Nosedive and Canard staring at him. Nosedive looked slightly bewildered, while Canard’s face was just contorted in a pissed scowl.

“What did you do?” Wildwing asked sharply, whirling back to Wraith.

Placing a few jugs and vials on the table next to the one Nosedive sat on, the mage spoke distractedly, “With your assault, you have given us a small time segment in which to expel the Stigma. This way, I have given us some more time.”

“You’ve frozen time?” Canard inquired.

Wraith tipped the end of one vial with a red substance into one with a black and poured anally. “I did not ‘freeze’ time. I simply slowed ours in relation to the outside world, granting us the façade of more.”

Wildwing looked at Canard, who returned his gaze. Neither of them knew exactly what that meant but didn’t really have it in them to argue.

Sitting on a metal table, Nosedive moved his left hand back and forth unconsciously on his right forearm. From living with his brother, Wildwing already knew that motion. He reached out instinctively and placed a comforting hand upon his brother’s shoulder. The teen flinched, but sent a weak smile over his shoulder when he realized who had touched him and for what purpose—to calm him.

“It’ll be okay,” Wildwing murmured, but Nosedive sighed.

“I don’t like this. I’m just letting you know.”

“I know, but we need him to remove it.”

Closing his eyes, Nosedive cringed, and Wildwing guessed his brother was attempting shut out the memories surging him. The older brother could only imagine what it must have felt like to return to the place where the majority of his brother’s suffering had occurred. He frowned at the violent tremor worked its way through Nosedive’s frame. Still, Wildwing didn’t release his hand or slacken his hold, a silent comfort.

Wraith placed the vials on the table, then spoke directly to the teen. “Remove your shirt.”

“Bite me,” Nosedive retorted.

“I need to remove the Stigma manually; there is no other way,” Wraith explained surly.

“You’re a wizard. Find another way,” Canard rebuked. The callous expression etched onto his face reflected his worry.

“I’m a mage,” the lizard replied curtly, then focused upon the teen. “Do you wish to be freed?”

Nosedive rolled his eyes at the non sequitor but calmed slightly when Wildwing squeezed the hand on his shoulder. “It’ll be okay,” he said. “We’re here this time.”

“Dad was there last time,” Nosedive recalled. “You see how great he helped.” Scowling inward at the demoralized face of his brother, despite the Mask, the teen shook his head. “I’m sorry…It’s just…”

“You don’t have to explain,” Wildwing assured. “I get it.”

Nosedive smiled wearily at his brother, and Wildwing returned it firmly. Yeah, it was good to have someone who understood him completely and vice versa. He had Canard for the last fourteen years, and now it seemed Nosedive understood how special it was.

Switching to his regular clothes, Nosedive hesitated. Wildwing didn’t blame him. His brother was normally shaky when he had to take off his shirt for Tanya to clean his wounds, but now in front of Saurians?

Tugging off his over jacket, he ducked his head. Wildwing removed his hand just long enough for Nosedive to pull his shirt over his head.

A tug on his jeans’ waistband jolted Nosedive back to Wraith, and he jerked away. “Hey! Hands off, creepage!”

“I must see the complete Stigma,” Wraith said simply, to which Nosedive snorted.

“Just ask, all right?” He un-zippered his pants and laid stomach down on the table when Wraith instructed.

Wildwing felt his brother tense and watched as the teen closed his eyes. Suddenly the teen jerked alert when a pair of rough hands grasped him by the arm.

By the time he recoiled and the hands left his body, a launcher was under Siege’s neck. “Touch him again, and you’ll be wearing your own scales.”

“You want to restrain him, go right ahead,” Siege grated at Canard.

“Why does he need to be restrained?” Wildwing posed.

Wraith dropped his hand to Nosedive’s back and coursed his nail about the boy’s feathers, causing the teen to shiver. “Anytime a being is impaled with an object, it ensues pain. I’m sure you have witnessed the Stigma’s effects, have you not?”

“Yes,” Wildwing admitted harshly.

“It will be worse.”

Nosedive’s eyes widened in terror. He shot up. “WHAT! Are you on something? Please tell me you’re on something that makes you delusional.”

“He must be restrained or else I will not be able to perform the extraction.”

Sighing exasperatingly, Wildwing glared scathingly at Siege. “We’ll do it.”

Wide-eyed, Nosedive implored, grasping onto his brother’s arm, “There has got to be another way. You have to find another way. You’re the leader. Come up with something!” In his voice, hysteria reigned.

“Go to your happy place,” Wildwing said simply, pushing his brother gently back down to the table and applied an ounce of pressure to Nosedive’s right arm. At the opposite end of the table, Canard cupped Nosedive’s ankles and gave Wildwing a nod of collaboration.

“I don’t have a happy place,” Nosedive grumbled, warily watching Wraith as he grabbed a crimson vial.

“Barrow mine,” his older brother offered. He grabbed Nosedive’s head and with gentle force, turned it away from Wraith. “It’s our home during Star’s Hallow. It was the only time of the year when the entire family was together.”

“I never knew your parents or Shane, so it’s kinda hard to imagine—”

“I wasn’t talking about the Bronzeplumes,” Wildwing said, trailing a hand through Nosedive’s hair. “I was talking about our family. Every Stars’ Hallow, our family would get together at Dad’s and Grandpa’s, and it was like we were a normal family. Everyone was there—Dad, Mom, Grandpa, Harper, you, me, and…” Wildwing raised his eyes and focused directly on Canard, holding Nosedive’s legs. Realization glimmered in his shocked eyes.“…our Uncle Duke.”

Nosedive glanced up Wildwing when the older brother stopped. Shaking his head, Wildwing smiled briefly. He couldn’t process what he just remembered. He couldn’t even register it. At the moment, he needed to be alert for Nosedive. Tenderly forcing his brother’s head back to the table, he watched scathingly as Wraith splashed something red and wet upon his brother’s lower back. He wished he didn’t know what it was. A putrid, rancid smell wafted about his nostrils, which resembled too much of the smell of the mine he was in after it collapsed.

The smell of the dead.

Ancient, mumbled words spurted from Wraith’s mouth, as his hands smeared the warm substance methodically across the Stigma.

“It’s okay,” Wildwing’s soothing voice worked its way through the younger brother’s fear. He felt his brother trembling and even heard the desperate whimper that escaped his beak. “It’s okay. Everything’s fine. Just hang in there, all right?”

Nosedive winced, tormented—like when he spoke the terrors of his youth—like when he abused by Siege the first time.

Then he screamed.

Ending of Series

Commentary: I’ll let you decide for yourself if you want this to be the end of “Fallen Angel” or not. This is actually the last three scenes of a story I started about a year ago but couldn’t finish. The story came out of the idea that Nosedive always thought his father would send him back to the orphanage, and I wanted to the two to have the fight where Nosedive finally understood his father would never give him up. Well, who really cares about that? Harper is an original character, so, so what?

Anyway, the story was this: The Mighty Ducks, minus Dive, go back in time to just before the Invasion on Puckworld. However, that got me thinking. What if Wildwing had the power to go back in time and change the past? What would Wildwing change? Wouldn’t “Fallen Angel” have been written for nothing? All that work—for me just to erase it all from happening?

Ultimately, though, this story was axed simply because I couldn’t finish it. I have the first twenty-four pages written, so if anyone is interested, you know I’ll send it to you.

“Will I ever see you again?” Nosedive asked, latching onto his brother.

Wildwing smiled sadly, which quickly depreciated into a frown. “One day, when you really need me, I’ll be there for you.”

“When will that be?” Nosedive persisted, tears trickling down his face.

Wildwing wiped them and bent his head down to see into his brother’s eyes. “Soon. Sooner than you would like.”

“I want to see you now.”

Wildwing grinned again at his brother’s pout and fluffed his hair. “And I’ll be here…one day. Until then, enjoy your last few minutes of freedom, all right? You’ll need it.” He once more drew his little brother into a hug, not at all surprised how tightly his brother clung to him.

He didn’t know how long he held his little brother until Canard put a hand on his shoulder and tugged gently. “Bro…we don’t have much time. We need to go.”

Wildwing nodded absently, then released Nosedive with much difficulty. He ruffled the boy’s hair before looking to Harper and shaking the man’s hand. “I’ll see you in a few weeks.”

“Stay safe, Wildwing.”

Wildwing nodded, then turned to Shane and hugging him briefly. “Take care of yourself, okay?”

“Will do. I’ll see you in the Resistance, anyway. I promise.”

“You better,” Canard added, having already embraced his older brother.

Slowly, Wildwing looked once more at his tearstained little brother, who was held tightly by his father. He smiled again, then turned to his team, making a circle. “These should get us home.”

“They got us here,” Tanya retorted bitterly, sending Wildwing a scathing glare. “They’ll get us home…hopefully.”

“I don’t doubt you a second, Tanya.” He shared a quick glare with his brother, as Canard glanced his way one more time. However, he quickly looked away, too.

The team held up their wristbands, and Wildwing nodded. “Let’s do it!”

!!!

Nosedive hid his face in his father’s chest as his brother left him again, not being able to watch. However, when the noise and light faded, he blinked, astonished to see Wildwing and Canard there.

Wildwing turned to Canard, astonished as well. “You stayed.”

Canard scoffed, “We’re twins, aren’t we? We’re supposed to know what each other is thinking.”

Wildwing’s face darkened. “You know what could happen.” It wasn’t a question.

“Yes.”

“And you’re okay with it.” Still, not a question.

Canard smiled widely. “Of course I’m okay with it, and so are you. We can’t just let the kid go through that, not when we have the power to change it.”

Kid? They were talking about him!

“Then…ready? I was thinking about stopping Siege and Wraith since there is no way we can stop the orphanage from splitting us up.”

Canard nodded and adjusted his unit on his wrist. “Okay, then, bro. Let’s do it!”

Nosedive gasped as both disappeared.

He turned to his father. “What just happened?”

Harper looked to Shane and breathed deeply. “I don’t know, but I think we’ll find out.”

!!!

Nosedive shot up in bed, drenched in a cool sweat, his body tense from the night-terror. Blinking as the world was once more that of reality, he leaned back against the wall, his breathing still a pant. Why did the Saurians have to take over? He had gotten over the night-terror years ago with his father and brother’s help. Now, it just dragged up to the present with the mines and being a slave and—

“You okay, kiddo?”

Nosedive gasped at the abrupt voice and the popping up of Wildwing, flinching and pushing back. He slowly relaxed at the sight of his brother, shaking his head. “Stars, Wing. Did you actually want to give me a heart attack?”

“Sorry,” the white mallard said gently, stepping on the lower bunk to propel him upward. He took a seat on the edge of the bed, allowing his legs to dangle off. “Have the nightmare?”

Nosedive shrugged but spoke when his brother reached over and pushed his sweat-ridden bangs from his forehead. Wildwing knew he would do anything for his brother when he played with his hair. “You remember how I used to get that night-terror of when my foster parents were killed, and I was almost taken by these lizards. Well, I guess I got it again.”

“Yeah, but you were saved, weren’t you?” Wildwing reinforced tenderly, still fussing with his brother’s bangs.

“Yeah, I know. Those two mallards, whoever they were. It’s just…” He shrugged helplessly. “I guess just with everything…It makes me wonder what would have happened if they didn’t save me.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t wonder, baby bro. They didn’t get you, and you’re safe. Now come on.” He nudged his brother in the side. “Move it.”

Nosedive glared skeptically at his brother. “Are you serious? I’m sixteen, bro. You don’t have to sleep in the same bed as me.”

“I don’t need to, but you want me to.”

“No I don’t,” Nosedive scoffed, but he was betrayed by his wavering voice. “I haven’t wanted to sleep in the same bed with you since we had that sleepover at your house when I was ten, and you, me and Canard had watched Gruesome Goalie IIX. Remember? I was afraid Gory the Goalie was going to chop my head off with his stick.”

“And I remember less than two years ago your father calling me at the academy and telling me that you were afraid that Canard and I were going to be called for peacekeeping troops on Tamarania. I took a week off and spent every moment with you until you felt safe enough to even let me sleep on the couch.”

Nosedive blushed. “Yeah, but I was fourteen. Now I’m sixteen.”

“And you’ve survived through a Saurian invasion and in a slave mine. I think it’s okay to let your big brother sleep next to you.”

“Yeah, but—”

“Hey, you’ve got to be fresh for tomorrow, all right? I can’t have you falling asleep as we cross Dead Duck Gouge. It’s going to be dangerous enough with the Saurians.” Wildwing nudged his brother again, this time harder, so Nosedive almost fell over. “Move it, kiddo.”

Nosedive sighed, blushing an even deeper shade of purple, but conceded. He scooted over on the bed to make room for his brother, and a moment later, he laid his head on Wildwing’s shoulder.

His eyes remained open, troubled. “Wildwing, you think my dad will be okay, right? I mean, he was so insistent that I go with you. It’s almost as if he thinks the base is going to be attacked.”

“He knows there’s a traitor, baby bro, ever since we were attacked. I think he just wants you to be safe,” Wildwing replied coolly.

“By sending me off with you to attack the Saurian overlord? Yeah, that seems bright.”

“Your dad told me those guys who saved you told him something was coming. I’m not about to question him.”

Nosedive nodded. “Wing?”

“Yeah?”

“Is it okay to be scared—y’know, about tomorrow and taking on Dragaunus?”

“I’m scared.”

“…You didn’t answer my question.”

“Yes, Dive, it is okay.”

“Good, because…I’m scared.”

“I’m going to be here, baby bro. I’m not going to let anything happen to you; neither will Shane or Canard.”

“I know…”

Nosedive closed his eyes and focused on the white mallard who saved him all those years ago.

“…you didn’t the first time.”

Thanks!

Dev