“Targeted”

In his ears, all Nosedive could hear was his deep breathing.

In his world, there was just he and his enemy.

In his mind, there was only thought.

Make him pay for what’s he’s done.

For the Mighty Ducks.

For himself.

For Wildwing.

Nosedive had never engaged in a fist fight before. He never had any need to, but when he heard the macabre reverberation of a head colliding with the boards, when he saw the blood trickling from Wildwing’s forehead, when he saw his brother’s lifeless body sprawled across the ice, he broke.

His head snapped back when Donald Brashear finally landed his first punch, and Nosedive stumbled, for the first time in years, on his skates. With a quick, rigid shake of his head, the teen recovered, gliding toward Brashear with intent. He gripped the monster of an enforcer by the jersey and slammed his fist into Brashear’s face. He ducked the retaliation and attacked again and again and again…

With a last grunt of furious exertion, he delivered the final uppercut. He released Brashear’s jersey, and the hand holding his un-scrunched. He watched with no remorse as the thug crumpled to the ice, unconscious and bleeding. Standing over him, heaving gasping breaths, he narrowed his eyes toward the unconscious thug. Justice served, duck-style.

And finally reality crashed through the barrier he had constructed about him. A hand grab the back of his jersey, while the fans screamed at the top of their lungs, their voices encircling the younger mallard, overwhelming him. Cold sweat trickled down from his long bangs to the side of his face, while his left hand slightly ached for the force of hitting a six-foot-two-inch wall of muscle.

“Come on, kid, five minutes for fighting, two for instigating, ” the referee murmured in his ear, attempting to pull him away. Nosedive allowed it when the medical trainer for the Flyers knelt on the ice and started attending to the fallen player.

Nosedive wiped the blood from his forehead. Under his drooping bangs, he caught Grin’s sympathetic gaze, his older teammate standing along the boards. Nosedive unconsciously understood what the burly duck was doing. Even though more than one player fighting another was illegal in the NHL, if the fight had gotten out of hand, Grin would have stepped in.

Of course, normally that would have been Wildwing’s concern, not—

WILDWING!

“HEY!”

Nosedive twisted out of the referee’s grip and skated furiously toward the end boards. His eyes darted back and forth, taking everything in—the net thrown carelessly to the side; the rest the team huddling around his unconscious brother, shielding the captain; the blood streaked across the ice…

For a brief, insane moment, he almost didn’t want to know what happened for fear that the diagnosis would be something he couldn’t handle—Wildwing in coma, Wildwing’s skull cracked, a blood clot in his brain—but not knowing was far worse. He fought down the shudder that threatened to wrack his body and fell to his knees at the top of the blue half-moon. Skidding across his brother’s crease, where Wildwing usually stood, he slid to a stop next to Duke.

“I—Is he okay what’s wrong what happened!” he sputtered together three questions in one. A sickening apprehension clutched him as he stared down at his pallid and languid brother.

The Mask was off and in Mallory’s hands. Trickling blood seeped down the older Featherburn’s forehead and onto his cheek, while Duke held a towel over the leader’s wound. Tanya quickly checked Wildwing’s pulse, then pulled back each eyelid to look at the pupils.

“He seems okay,” the team medic said shakily, her probing fingers pulling back the towel to get a look at the wound. “Just knocked out…”

Nosedive breathed slightly easier, as he grabbed his brother’s limp hand from the ice. “So, he’s gonna be okay, right—” He jerked when a hard hand clinched his jersey. Looking up, Nosedive scowled at the sight of a humanized zebra.

“I know this is new to you, kid,” the referee asserted firmly, thumbing over his shoulder, “but to the penalty box.”

Before Nosedive could even twist out of the grip, a hand clasped over the referee’s and removed it from his jersey. “You will not add to the negative karma already overwhelming the situation,” Grin threatened.

The referee reclaimed his hand and muttered, “Ten minutes for player misconduct.”

“We forfeit,” Duke replied sharply, not even gracing the referee with a glance. Instead, he draped an arm around Nosedive’s shoulders and pulled the boy close. “It’ll be okay. Trust me here. Your brother’s strong.”

The referee spared them a wry look, then skated away furiously.

“Thanks, guys,” Nosedive said faintly, swallowing down the lump in his throat that had unobtrusively formed.

“No problem, kid. He shouldn’t have done that.” Duke turned to Mallory. “Could you order security to vacate the stands? It’ll be better once we have privacy.”

Nosedive blinked suddenly. In the entire time of the fight and up until that moment, he hadn’t paid much attention to the fans. They had been screaming in outrage. He remembered that much when he heard Wildwing’s collision, but when he had cross-checked Brashear and engaged the enforcer in battle… He immediately understood Duke’s reasoning, though, at the banging coming from the glass right above the end boards.

Tanya finally sat back on her haunches and wiped the sweat from her brow. Even before she could sigh, Nosedive bombarded with her anxious inquiries.

“Is he going to be okay? When will he wake up? Why hasn’t he yet? What’s wrong? Why isn’t he—”

Under the circumstances, Tanya knew just how to handle the distraught teen. Stars knew how many times she had the same difficulties with the team captain. “He’ll be fine, Nosedive. At the most, he has a concussion.”

“But then why isn’t he—”

She clutched his hand, then grimaced. A pang of uneasiness ravaged the teen, but before he could speak, Tanya reassured, “What I need now is your help. Do you think you can calm yourself enough for that?”

Yeah, right. “What?” he asked earnestly. “Whatwhatwhat!” He was willing to do anything for his brother, and by the look on Tanya’s face, she knew it, too. That was probably why she was giving him something to do, so he could help instead of just sitting there and worrying.

She smiled sweetly. “Why don’t you lay Wildwing’s head on your lap while I put the smelling salts in front of his beak?”

“We’re going to wake him up?”

“Yes. I think he’s had enough rest, don’t you?”

Nodding, he hastily maneuvered to the top of his brother and with the gentle help of Grin, lifted Wildwing’s head slowly onto his knees. Nosedive cocked his head to the side, noticing the expressionless look upon Wildwing’s face. His brother always had an expression on his face, despite the Mask. Nosedive remembered with fond melancholy how he had teased his brother over the two expressions Wildwing showed: apprehensive anger and brotherly affection.

“Make sure to hold him by the shoulders tightly,” Tanya advised, as Duke wrapped an arm about Wildwing’s waist. “We don’t want his head to hit the ice. It could cause brain damage.”

“I got ‘im, Taunny,” just like he’s always had me.

Nosedive crossed his arms just under his brother’s neck, his right hand holding Wildwing’s left shoulder with his left hand on the right—a rigid hug. At the same time, he made sure to hold Wildwing close to his knees. He observed as Tanya wavered the small white pack in front of Wildwing’s nostrils. After a few agonizing seconds—Wake, damn you!—his brother jerked back into reality with frightened gasp and an abrupt snap of his eyes.

Nosedive clasped his arms tightly, shouting, “It’s us! It’s okay!”

Wildwing’s resistance instantly subsided, and his body relaxed upon the ice. His eyes flickered upward at Nosedive, looking exhausted as if he had awoken from hibernation. “Dive—”

*^*^*

“—what happened to you?”

Nosedive suppressed an outburst of laughter at the worried expression on his older brother’s face. Okay, so technically Wildwing had three expressions: apprehensive anger, brotherly affection, and a mixture of the two. Nosedive smiled, though. At least his brother was feeling better. Wildwing had been mostly out of it on the way down to the infirmary, leaning on Nosedive and Duke for support, but once he had caught his bearings, his immediate attention focused on his baby brother.

Sitting cross-legged on the next medibed, Nosedive returned the questioning look on his brother’s face when Wildwing sent a pointed glare at his head, then hands. He looked down at his hands, already knowing about the fist to the head he received, and flexed his fingers. Huh. Small red slits bled slightly on his left knuckles.

He shrugged absently, letting his hand drop to his jeans. “Uh, you know, I, uh…I skidded across the ice to get to you, so I guess I must have scraped my hand.” He ignored the stern looks from Duke and Tanya, but when Wildwing winced as Tanya stitched the cut above his eye, he shot a furious look at the former thief.

“And your head?” Wildwing said suddenly.

“Huh?” Nosedive replied, lifting his eyes to meet his brother’s.

Wildwing lightly brushed his fingers against his own head wound, then pointed to Nosedive’s. “Your head wound? Where’d you get that?”

“Had a nice trip, Wing, thanks,” Nosedive answered sardonically.

Tanya immediately switched her attention. Pulling off her gloves, she dropped them into the hazardous trash and snapped on a new pair. She stalked up to the younger duck and pushed his bangs up to get a better look at his forehead, much to his disapproval.

“Well, you two seem to have matching wounds,” she remarked, shaking her head. With Wildwing behind her back, she gave Nosedive a scathingly glare before walking toward the cabinet.

“So, uh, anyway, you hungry, Wild?” asked Nosedive, trying his best efforts to slink out of the room.

As he inched off the bed, Tanya whirled, “Nosedive, you sit right there!”

The teen whined, knowing the team medic meant business. The only time any of his teammates called him by his full first name, not “Kid” or “Dive,” was when they were pissed. Like Tanya was now.

“Fine.” He plopped down on the corner of the bed, his feet flat on the floor. He slumped and waited impatiently for Tanya to clean his wound, then cringed when she stitched it.

“You know,” Duke said abruptly, pushing off the wall he had been leaning against. “I think we should watch some SportsCenter. I’m sure you’d love to hear what they have to say about your nosedive into the boards, Wing.”

Wildwing rolled his eyes. “I’ll probably make their ‘Not Top Ten.’ ”

Nosedive listened to the conversion idly, the voices grabbing his attention at the sound of his name. Hardly anyone of the ducks used the term “nosedive” simply for the sheer fact of when they used it, he’d always answer them. After they crashed the Aerowing a few times, though, it just became annoying to him, so much so that he refused to answer some of his teammates when they actually addressed him.

“Having a team of six can be tough in today’s NHL, where the number of goalies on the IR has tripled since the implementation of new rules,” John Buccigross’s voice carried across the room. “Luckily for the Mighty Ducks of Anaheim, goaltender Wildwing Featherburn is not one of them.”

“Here it comes,” Wildwing commented with an anticipatory laugh.

Nosedive’s eyes widened when a thick knot twisted in his gut and horrid realization flooded him. He opened his beak, but Tanya quickly tightened the stitches she was sowing. All that sounded was a strained grunt.

“Still, that didn’t seem to stop Nosedive Featherburn or the league. Getting slapped with a one-game suspension for excessive force—”

Wildwing whirled to glare at his little brother, but Nosedive slunk behind Tanya, praying silently to the Stars that she still had to place a bandage on his wound. Peeking over Tanya’s shoulder, the younger brother watched as the screen flickered from the sports’ desk to the hockey game.

“—watch right by the net. The replacement Goon of the Year for Stanley Strazinski, Donald Brashear, breaks the invisible force field of the crease—”

Nosedive found himself wincing as Brashear slammed his elbow into the back of Wildwing’s head, slamming the goalie against the net and into the end boards. He hadn’t actually seen the hit. His rapt attention had been focused on Simon Gagne, one of the best scorers of the league, but he sure as hell heard it. Still. And when he turned and saw Brashear standing over Wildwing, he just couldn’t help himself.

“Now watch Nosedive Featherburn here—” the announcer continued, amused, “as he skates furiously from the top of the circle into Brashear, cross-checking him—”

On the screen, Nosedive glided from nowhere, slamming the middle of his stick into Brashear’s side, forcibly knocking the massive human away from Wildwing. Simultaneously, both players dropped their sticks and shook off their gloves.

Tanya finished patching up Nosedive, giving the teen a clear view of the TV. He turned away, not wanting to watch. He had lived it. The first punch landed was Brashear’s, directly to Nosedive’s forehead, knocking off his helmet. The next four went unanswered and were all from Nosedive, resulting in Brashear on the ice a few moments later.

Buccigross’s voice eerily cut through the staled air. “And then, as the referee leads Featherburn toward the sin bin, the teen perked up like, ‘Oh, yeah. I forgot why I punched Donald’s lights out,’ and skated back toward his brother. With fighting being down in the league, you knew this would a SportsCenter Top Ten Nominee.”

For the longest time after the clip was done, no one said a word. Nosedive looked away from his brother’s direction, while Tanya busied herself with cleaning the teen’s hand cuts. When she finished, she nodded to Duke, who shut off the TV. They left, giving the brothers privacy.

“You lied to me,” Wildwing started, his voice low and grave.

Nosedive squirmed uneasily. “I knew you would be disappointed.”

“That doesn’t matter. You still should have told me.”

Yeah, he kinda knew that. I was hoping you wouldn’t find out. “Sorry.”

“No, this isn’t something to be sorry over.” Wildwing resituated himself on the bed and glared at Nosedive. “You know you can come to me with anything, right?”

Nosedive couldn’t face him and instead stared at the floor. “Yeah, I know, but I thought that—”

“You’d get the speech about how you don’t have stick up for me?” Wildwing answered for him. “And how you shouldn’t fight?”

Did his brother have to know everything? “Yeah.”

Wildwing pushed himself to his feet and crossed, albeit a little waveringly, the small distance between their beds. Sitting down next to his brother, he nudged Nosedive with his elbow. “You shouldn’t have done that, kiddo. We could have used you against the Avs next game.”

“So, it’s okay for him to run you over and only get a two-minute penalty, but it’s not okay for me to stop him from doing it again?” Nosedive spat, still not facing his brother.

“Not when it breaks the rules.”

“I didn’t break any rules!” the teen burst, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. “I taught him not to mess you with you. You get that enough from Dragaunus as it is. You don’t need it from temperamental enforcers who think they can just barrel through the crease like it’s Puckworld and their a Saurian invasion!”

“Ah, now we’re getting somewhere,” Wildwing said, satisfied.

Nosedive sighed, standing finally. “Man, you’ve lost it.”

“Really? Because if I just heard that right, you’ve been scared because Dragaunus has been gunning for me, and you feel helpless,” Wildwing said simply. “So in this instance, you felt you could something about it and took out all your frustration on Brashear.”

Nosedive shook his head in denial. “The men in white coats are going to come for you, big bro, because you’re just crazy.”

“Am I?”

Nosedive blinked, finally turning to his older brother. “What?”

Wildwing shrugged noncommittally. “Am I wrong?”

Sending his brother a skeptical glare, he suddenly turned away. He clenched his hands at his side. “I just saw you like that, and…and…after the invasion and you getting team captain and Dragaunus constantly wanting to kill you…I remembered what it was like in the camps…without you…” He tried to suppress the tears coursing his cheeks but found himself physically unable to stop them. “…and I just thought that I wasn’t going to lose you again. I wasn’t going to let this—this—mockery of a hockey player think he could take you away. I wasn’t going to let him.”

Wildwing stood instantly and wrapped a comforting arm about his brother’s shoulders, pulling him close. He nuzzled the top of the teen’s head, causing Nosedive to grin slightly. “I didn’t know this was weighing so much on you.”

Nosedive shrugged awkwardly in the embrace. Unadmittedly, he hadn’t know it himself, but after he heard what happened in the Master Tower, Wildwing quitting the team briefly—Looking back, he should have gone with his brother and would have if he wasn’t so shocked—and Wildwing almost getting eaten by a genetically-cloned dinosaur, he was undoubtedly touched. And scared.

Staring down at his little brother, Wildwing let out a deep sigh. His breath blew Nosedive’s hair slightly. “I can’t promise things will change, baby bro. We lead dangerous lives, and as much as we wish it differently, I am in the middle of it all. And,” he added, smiling slightly, “so are you.”

“But you don’t have to watch and wait to see what traps Dragaunus’ll set for me!”

“Oh, no? Look at the past confrontations, little brother. Dragaunus very much has it out for you. Remember when he captured you and Buzz?”

“Please,” Nosedive disputed flatly, pulling away slightly and crossing his arms. He turned his back on his brother, not being able to look in his eyes when he said, “The only reason Chameleon took me was to get Buzz to give Lizard Lips the formula.”

“Really? You think that was all? Chameleon tried to kill Mallory but kept you alive. Don’t you think Mallory would have been a better hostage for Buzz than you?”

“He probably just thought I’d be easier to keep around than Mallory.”

“Or maybe because he thought he could use you to get at me?” Wildwing offered softly.

Nosedive stiffened. Slowly, he turned to look up at his brother in disbelief.

“Dragaunus would kill you in a minute if he ever got the chance. Make those qualms of that, baby bro,” Wildwing continued, placing a hand on his shoulder, “but if he thought he could get to me through you, there’s no doubt in my mind he’d do it. Lest we forgot the pterodactyl that practically ate you.”

“He wasn’t trained to go after me, though,” Nosedive scoffed.

“He surely didn’t come after Mallory or me.”

“So? What does that prove—”

Wildwing shook his head. “And when we were playing space hockey, you were the first one chosen. Dragaunus probably thought he could get rid of you first, so that I would be too distraught to survive the team match.”

There were a few things in life that really irked Nosedive: when someone messed with his stuff, when someone messed with his brother, and when someone questioned his hockey skills. “Are you saying Draggy doesn’t think I’m a good hockey player?” Not that Dragaunus’s opinion counted, but oh, would he take on the freakin’ fossil next time.

Wildwing snorted. “No! What I’m saying is that Dragaunus wants you out of the way, and by the looks of it, almost as much, if not more so than me. So, yes, I do have to worry about what he’s scheming for you.”

Nosedive blinked and wiped the tears from his eyes. He couldn’t believe it. Dragaunus was after…him? He who before a year ago had no war experience whatsoever. He who wasn’t even an adult on Earth, let alone on Puckworld. He who was only fighting the good fight because he happened to be the former leader’s best friend’s kid brother.

As if knowing the trestles of Nosedive’s thinking, Wildwing pulled his brother closer to his body. “Hey, come on, now. You are an integral part of the team, not just my little brother.”

Nosedive looked downcast. “But if you’re right, the only reason Dragaunus is after me is to get to you.”

“So what? That doesn’t make you any less a part of the team.” Wildwing smiled fondly down at his little brother and nuzzled him again. “And while I don’t like that he’s after you, I’m glad you’re here with me and not on Puckworld.”

Nosedive grinned up at his older brother, the remnants of his internal fears fading in his eyes. “Me, too.”

Wrapping his arms about Wildwing’s neck, Nosedive leaned into his brother’s embrace and smiled when his older brother held him closer, an arm about his lower back, the other supporting his head. Nosedive closed his eyes for the moment, savoring the embrace. He didn’t know what tomorrow would bring, and whether or not Wildwing would be there, but for now, he was, and that was all that counted.

“Did you just pull that all from your butt?”

Wildwing pulled back slightly from the embrace to glower at his brother. “What? Where the heck did you hear that expression?”

Nosedive snorted internally. Culture shock. Got to love it. “Well, you seem to have thought this out already.”

Wildwing nodded thoughtfully. Slowly, he admitted, “I’ve…thought about this for a while now.”

“Then why haven’t you told me?”

“Because I don’t seem to have an affinity for taking my anger out on steroid-addicted thugs,” Wildwing answered shortly. “And,” he added with a grin and a tassel of Nosedive’s hair, “I didn’t want to worry you. It’s scary knowing that a homicidal psychopath with scales is out to get you.”

“But…” Nosedive hesitated until Wildwing urged him with another nudge, “when I saw you like that today…It’s scarier thinking he’s after you, not me.”

“Then we have a mutual understanding.”

Nosedive didn’t follow his brother’s thinking. “Ooookay?”

Wildwing smiled a little sadly. “Now you know why I worry so much.”

“You worried on Puckworld, too, just for different reasons,” Nosedive rejoined, falling to the bed. “So, what do we do about it?”

“Well, since I’m the team leader and the big brother here, I can order you locked in your room until I see it safe enough—”

“You suck!”

“—however, I really don’t think that’s answer,” Wildwing answered with a smile. “Tell you what, though. Next time you feel like this, come to me rather than getting yourself suspended.”

That really didn’t sit well with Nosedive. “Not unless you do the same.”

“And you don’t lie, even if it’s about something that will disappoint me. I need to know I can trust you, Nosedive.”

Ah, his full first name again. He smiled wearily but nodded. “You got it.”

“Good. Now,” Wildwing put out a hand to help his brother up, “why don’t we go and watch SportsCenter with the guys? I hear someone made the Top Ten.”

Nosedive snorted and accepted the hand. He smiled warmly when Wildwing’s arm once again draped over his shoulders. “I guess that makes me ahead of you now for most times on that.”

“I wouldn’t go that far, baby bro.”

Nosedive stopped before they reached the exit, grabbing hold of his brother’s shirt. “Wing, do you really think Dragaunus is out for me?”

A dark frown contorted Wildwing’s usual bright face. “Hate to say it, kiddo, but yeah. I do.”

“Do you think we’ll ever going to live a life where we won’t have to worry about each other anymore?”

Wildwing tightened his grip. “There’s always hope, but until then, I don’t think I have to worry too much.”

Nosedive sent Wildwing a confused glare.

“Hey, I saw that attack on Brashear. Good left hook, little brother.”

Nosedive shrugged and allowed his brother to lead him out of the Infirmary. “Hey, I learn from the best.”

Wildwing halted and furled an eyebrow. “Duke teaching a few things?”

Glaring at his brother, Nosedive elbowed him in the gut.

Fin~