#Flashblade Brothers | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

thosemeddlingducks · 4 years ago

Text

The Long Road Home 1

Fifteen years after the car accident that changed their lives and tore them apart, childhood friends and members of the Mighty Ducks peewee hockey team are finally coming home for the 20th anniversary of their championship win over the Saurians. Through twists and turns, unexpected stops along the way, and dead ends they paths have once more converged in their hometown of Isboro. This serendipitous intersection would change their paths forever.

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27318952/chapters/66747010

Night had long fallen over Minneapolis when Will ‘Wildwing’ Flashblade wearily stumbled into his modest two-bedroom apartment. He let out a sigh and finally allowed the exhaustion that had been lingering on the edges of his control flow deep into his bones. Suddenly the false energy that had spurred him on through the workweek fled and his entire body felt like one big weight. He shed his rumpled suit jacket and neatly hung it up on its customary hook next to the front door. He dropped his keys in the little basket where his younger brother’s colorful keychain already sat. Relieved that he didn’t have to worry about his baby brother running around the city like the hooligan that he was. Wildwing wandered slowly into the kitchen where he grabbed himself a bottle of water and a piece of cold pizza from the bare bones of the fridge. He ate the pizza almost robotically, out of habit rather than because he was actually hungry. Once he finished his meager meal, he made his way into the living room where his little brother was passed out at an odd angle on their worn-out couch, the TV blaring nonsense, and lighting up the dark room with its eerie light. Wildwing shook his head fondly and quickly located the remote so he could change the channel and turn down the volume to a level that their sleeping neighbors would no doubt appreciate. He let the monotony of the news drone on in the background as he gazed down at the sleeping form of his baby brother.

Noah ‘Nosedive’ Flashblade was sprawled over the entirety of the couch, his long gangly limbs draped over the back and front of the couch so that he was practically spread eagle. His long golden hair was already a tangled mess from the typical shiftings and squirmings of Nosedive’s nightly routine. Wildwing felt a silent chuckle bubble up in his throat as he took in the almost childish way that his brother’s face was smushed into a couch pillow. His mouth was open and emitting a soft whistly sound but the most important thing was that he looked relaxed, peaceful. In a rare moment of nostalgia, Wildwing remembered nights like this when a young Nosedive would cuddle up next to him on the couch and they would watch reruns of famous hockey games. Nights like these had almost always ended in Nosedive’s face smushed uncomfortably into Wildwing’s side much like it was now. Wildwing reached down and brushed some wayward locks out of Nosedive’s face, and for a second his brother was 5 years old again. In a flash, he was once again staring at the face of a 23-year-old, not a child, but they were one and the same to Wildwing. Nosedive would always be his baby brother, his responsibility, his family.

Content with his memories, Wildwing moved over to the window and gazed out at the vast expanse of the city below and around them. Not for the first time, looking out the window and seeing dense buildings, asphalt and concrete felt… wrong. He shook off the strange feeling, but it lingered in the back of his mind, waiting for another time to strike. He ran a hand through his pale blonde hair and adjusted his glasses in a familiar nervous fidget that he had picked up in his childhood. His glasses were mostly for reading but he wore them constantly at work in an attempt to avoid the inevitable end-of-the-day headache that came from straining to read the small type on his computer every day. He could already feel that pounding sensation in his temples building up and with a sigh, he turned away from the window in pursuit of aspirin. Once he had dug the bottle out of their cluttered medicine cabinet Wildwing made his way back to the living room with the mission of persuading Nosedive to move his hibernation to the pit that was his room. For his own sanity, the anal-retentive man avoided ever entering his baby brother’s self-proclaimed ‘man cave’.

To his surprise, Nosedive was now sitting up on the couch, staring sleepily at a late-night cartoon that they had watched when they were kids. When Wildwing re-entered the room, Nosedive gave him a sleepy smile that quickly morphed into a jaw-cracking yawn.

“Wassup bro?” Nosedive asked through the yawn, pulling a small chuckle from his reserved brother. “You just getting in?” He glanced at the clock and then fixed his older brother with a knowing look when he realized how late it was.

“Yeah.” Wildwing rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “It was a long day. But I’m headed for the sack you should be too. Don’t you have flying lessons in the morning?”

He fixed Nosedive with his patented ‘older brother’ look and held out a hand to help leverage his baby brother off the couch. Reluctantly Nosedive took his offered hand and allowed himself to be shepherded to his bedroom. He paused at the door and looked back at his older brother. Wildwing was tall and broad-chested where Nosedive was slim, his hair was so pale it was almost white where Nosedive had long golden locks. If it weren’t for the shared golden color of their eyes it would be hard to tell that they were related. Wildwing had always been reserved and responsible, which had allowed nosedive’s wacky and often reckless personality to flourish. Looking at his brother now, Nosedive realized that it had been far too long since he saw the spark that used to live in his eyes. To be frank, his brother looked drained in every sense of the word. Wildwing was a shell of himself.

“Yo bro?” he asked suddenly, breaking the silent staring contest that had lingered in the hallway between them. “You okay man? You don’t look so hot.”

His question seemed to stop Wildwing in his tracks as he considered the question for a few minutes before answering with a heavy sigh and a little shrug. “I’m just tired Dive, no need to worry. I’ll be fine after I get some rest.” With that, he disappeared into his room and the door clicked shut softly behind him. Nosedive lingered in his doorway for another minute, staring at the closed door across the hall and thinking. He snapped his fingers as an idea hit him and he hurried into his room to dig up his old contacts. His brother needed a vacation and he was gonna make that happen. After all, what were little brothers for?

As the Flashblade brothers settled down to sleep, the heavy clouds that had been lingering over the Twin Cities for days released a flurry of delicate little snowflakes onto the city, blanketing the world in a layer of pure snow.

The snowfall was light by the time the last bus rolled into Minneapolis and the lone passenger stepped off and onto solid ground. His boots were expensive yet solid and worn and his equally valuable martin overcoat fit his muscular form in the way that only tailored clothing could. Slung over his broad shoulder was a ratty duffel bag that contained his every possession in the world. The only part of his body that was exposed to the growing winter storm was his face, and he adjusted the high collar of his overcoat in an attempt to protect himself from the biting cold of the innocent snowflakes. The man-made his way over to the main building and hurried into the meager warmth that the indoors provided. In the harsh lights of the station the man’s rich umber skin looked a little washed out and his tired dark eyes searched the abandoned station for somewhere to rest. When he caught sight of a cushioned bench squished in between two vending machines, he felt a flooding relief that was extravagant for such a modest couch. With his target acquired, Duke L’Orange sauntered over time the ticket desk where the late-night worker was reading a nondescript romance novel. He weaved through the maze of empty metal barriers, his wet boots squeaking on the tile floor, feeling more and more ridiculous with each passing second. When he reached the desk he took a deep breath, set his ratty bag out of view, and hoped that he didn’t look too bedraggled.

“Scuse me.” He drawled, and the minute the woman looked up he hit her with his most charming and non-threatening smile. Such a smile was equally difficult and easy for an experienced thief like Duke to pull off. It was hard because the long scar that cut through the left side of his upper and lower lip often gave the impression of danger, but the expression came to him like second nature. Despite this slight disadvantage Duke skillfully used his suave good looks and practiced charm on the poor woman.

“I have an early bus tomorrow morning. Would it be alright if I rested here for a while?” He asked, actively suppressing his thick Brooklyn accent to appear innocent. The woman looked him up and down, obviously taking in his expensive clothes and good looks before deciding that he wasn’t homeless and was therefore allowed to sleep in her station. Her stony expression turned to something closer to a slight smile and she gestured to the cushioned seats that he had been eyeing.

“Thanks, sweetheart.” Duke winked at her and then strode over to the bench, this time avoiding the metal maze. He gratefully collapsed into the worn cushions and congratulated himself on his impeccable flirtation despite how insanely rusty and old he had felt the whole time. The now blushing woman returned to her book and Duke was left to his own thoughts in the peace and quiet of the empty station. He positioned himself on the bench so that he was watching the snow flurry uncontrollably, practically dancing about.

It was refreshing to see the world from a window that didn’t have bars on it. To be free to walk out into the snow and truly experience the world rather than the disappointing taste that was yard time. Sure he had technically been outside, but he had still been trapped. Five long years he had sat in a cell and contemplated what he missed about the world, what he missed about living. Sure he had enjoyed being one of the most notorious jewel thieves in the world, the life had been glamorous, fast-paced, and… empty. At the end of the line, he had been alone in that court room. His ‘Brotherhood’ had left him to rot in jail like a common cat burglar. It was cliche, but the experience of being arrested and imprisoned had changed him. The time had reawakened something in him that he had thought long dead, a piece of his childhood had taken root and flourished in the five years that he dwelled on it. It had taken him a whole year in the hole, getting into fights and generally raging at his circumstances before he realized that the change had taken root inside of him. His anger faded just as quickly as it arose and he spent days just remembering what life had been like in the small town of Isboro, sitting on his bunk and wishing that he could go back in time and change the course of his life. It wasn’t until a couple of days later when he was sulking in solitary for what felt like the millionth time, nursing a black eye and a split lip, that he realized that he didn’t have to go back to change the course of his life.

From that day on he had been a model prisoner, his gaze firmly fixed on the day that he would get out of that hellhole and head straight for his icy paradise. Just two days ago he had walked away from Rikers Island with only the clothes on his back and a small rucksack of his belongings that some faceless girlfriend had handed over to the cops after they had raided his apartment. What money he had left in the world he had used to book a bus ticket back to Minnesota. He had been determined to leave his dark past in New York and start fresh back in the one place that he had been truly happy.

Duke settled back into the scratchy cushions of the couch and let his eyes slowly drift closed. He may have next to nothing, no way to get to Isboro apart from his own two feet, and no idea what of his idyllic hometown would be the same when he got there... but he was on his way.

Coming home to Isboro hadn't always been… awkward for Mallory McMallard. At one time she had loved coming back to the sleepy little town nestled in the thick forests of Minnesota. She remembered very vividly coming home from her first tour of duty and finding relief and peace in those wide-open spaces. She had savored the quiet and the simplicity of the small town and it had become a place of rest and recovery before she was once more itching to get back into the service. It wasn’t until now, after her third and longest tour of duty that she felt imprisoned in Isboro. Suddenly she felt vulnerable out in those wide-open spaces. Everywhere she looked people were greeting her, touching her, getting too close.

MUCH too close.

She had been out shopping with her mother exactly once since she had come home. It was their little ritual and one of Mallory’s favorite pastimes and she had been looking forward to it. She had been filled with that familiar happy bubbly sensation for the entire drive, but the moment she stepped out of the car things had gone downhill. The slam of her mom’s car door had made her jump with a sudden jolt of fear and she found herself pressing up against the vehicle, her green eyes frantically searching the busy main street for attackers. Her chest constricted and she opened her mouth to gasp for breath when she felt a warm, familiar hand on her arm. She jerked sideways, stumbling away from her mom who was looking at her with concern, her hand outstretched where Mallory had stood only moments before.

“Mally girl? You okay hun?” Her mom’s voice cut through her paranoia and suddenly Mallory realized that she was in her hometown not in an active combat zone. She was safe here. Mallory stood up, straightening her favorite maroon jacket that she had slipped over her favorite green crop top. She felt herself calming down but she couldn’t quite shake the feeling she was in danger. She gave her mom a shaky smile that was meant to comfort her but she could see the lingering concern in her mother’s slightly wrinkled face.

“Fine mom.” She forced out and linked her arm with her mother’s so she could lead her towards their favorite boutique: The Ugly Duckling. Once they were surrounded by clothes, jewelry, and makeup Mallory felt that weird tension in her body fading away. She was browsing some tops when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind in a tight hug. Mallory immediately went into attack mode and she grabbed the arms around her with a bruising grip, digging her nails in until she heard a pained gasp and the arms let her go. Mallory immediately spun around and swept her leg out as she fell into a crouch. A body fell to the floor in front of her but she didn’t even register who it was as she scrambled back to a dressing room and scrambled for a weapon. She settled for a coat-hanger that she fit between her fingers as she pressed herself against the corner of the dressing room and tried to think over the cacophony in her mind.

Mallory felt her chest tightening in panic and she jerked violently against the changing room wall when someone started banging on the door. She tightened her grip on the coat-hanger and slid down until she was crouching on the floor, panting wildly and staring at a changing room door without even really seeing it. Her mind supplied the gunfire and explosions to the dressing room and Mallory squeezed her eyes shut in an attempt to drown out the noise and focus. For a few more seconds that felt like an eternity, she focussed on the darkness of her inner eyelids and the pressure on her chest slowly began to fade, taking with it the sounds of gunfire and leaving behind the sound of frantic knocking on the door.

She slowly opened her eyes and caught sight of herself in the full-length mirror that took up one side of the wall. Mallory was shocked at what she saw. The young woman staring back at her looked haggard and scared, clutching a freaking clothes-hanger like it would protect her from anything. She let her ‘weapon’ drop and rubbed her aching fingers. She had been holding it so tightly that her fingers echoed with the pain of her white-knuckle grip. She ran a hand through her sweat-damp red locks and shakily got to her feet, shuffling towards the door so that she could unlock it.

She came face to face with her frantic mother, a concerned shop owner, and a frightened-looking girl that she vaguely remembered from high school. Ignoring their onslaught of questions she all but collapsed into her mother’s arms.

“Can we go home, mom?” She asked quietly, speaking into her mother’s greying hair and basking in the familiar embrace of her mom.

She hadn’t really left the house since then.

And here Mallory sat, decked out in her ultimate comfort-wear. She was wearing her fluffiest robe, her favorite slippers, and her red hair was wrapped up in a towel. She was perched on her childhood bed, painting her nails as she waited for her face mask to finish its work at relaxing her. In the background, she had Clueless playing. Despite all of this, she was still restless, unable to fully relax and feel at home.

She glanced out of her window and watched as a light dusting of snow drifted down to coat the town of Isboro in its white blanket. She let the gentle dance mesmerize her and a tentative calm washed over her. Her eyes grew heavy and she barely had time to turn off her bedside lamp before she was overtaken by sleep.

The peaceful silence of one of Isboro’s many culdesacs was broken rather unceremoniously by the slam of a car door and a few whispered curses as Tanya Vanderflock wrestled her overflowing messenger bag out of her car and onto her coat-clad shoulder. She let out a little huff at the extra weight of the bag before diving back into her Subaru to retrieve a haphazard stack of papers, notebooks, and folders. Clutching the precious mess to her ample chest, Tanya closed her car door with her hip and used her one free finger to lock the little car. She carefully made her way up her driveway and front steps, self-consciously looking down at the ground in an attempt to avoid slipping in the thin layer of freshly fallen snow. The storm was growing thicker with her every step and she shuffled faster when she saw that the snowflakes were beginning to dampen her papers.

Tanya finally made it under the cover of her modest porch and took a second to let out a frustrated huff of breath before deciding to brave the chaos of her purse in search of her house keys. It was slow going as her increasingly numb fingers fished around in a sea of receipts, pens, gum, allergy medications, and about a million different chapstick flavors. She cursed colorfully again, this time slipping into Russian, and her pale face screwed up in frustration as her searching became more aggressive. After what felt like an eternity in which she had yet to find her keys, her front door yanked open to reveal her younger sister Leona, clad in her winter pajamas, a face mask, and bunny slippers. She was clutching a cup of cocoa and for a moment the two just stared at each other, Leona in judgment and Tanya in exasperation.

“Well, are ya gonna, ya know, help me?” Tanya finally broke the silence between them. Leona merely rolled her eyes and awkwardly snatched Tanya’s purse from where it was dangling on her arm. Tanya rolled her eyes but allowed herself to be ushered into her own home by her much younger sister who was living in her basement.

After making sure she was relatively clear of snow, Tanya abandoned her boots and the door and slid over to her kitchen table in crazy sock-clad feet. Today she had been assigned one frog sock and one hot dog sock. She abandoned her pile on the kitchen table and tossed her messenger bag into a chair with less care now that she was indoors. She made her way into the kitchen where Leona was waiting with a mug of hot chocolate and marshmallows identical to the mug she cradled gingerly in her own hands. She watched as Tanya awkwardly struggled to unzip and she’d her puffy purple winter jacket, her face straining as she held back laughter. When she was finally free of the purple marshmallow Tanya tossed it over a barstool. She snatched up her waiting cocoa and cuddled the warm mug close as she took a tentative sip. The two leaned against the kitchen counter for a while, just enjoying the comforting drink as Tanya recovered from the bone-deep chill of a Minnesota winter.

The two painted an interesting picture in the modest kitchen of Tanya’s house. Tanya was tall and curvaceous with pale skin and golden curls that she piled on top of her head. Her curly mop had evolved over the years until she had gotten tired of it and had shaved the sides and back of her head so that her curls balanced precariously on the top of her head, occasionally spilling over in an attractive, if not slightly messy, style. Tanya wore her signature purple round-framed glasses over her blue-grey eyes. She looked every bit of her Russian heritage personified.

Across from her, Leona was petite with honeyed skin and dark hair that fell in long strands over her shoulders and down her back. Her brown eyes remained uncovered and frustratingly (for Tanya) perfect. Leona was a complete anomaly in the family of tan blondes but the moment she had been brought home by the Vanderflock parents at 3 years old, she had somehow fit perfectly. Though they didn’t share blood, Tanya and Leona had developed a kind of unbreakable bond unique to sisters. It was through this bond that they were able to exchange a silent conversation right there in the kitchen.

‘You’re home late’ Leona said with a raised eyebrow and slightly pursed lips.

‘There’s not enough time in the day’ Tanya replied with a heavy sigh and a slight slumping of her shoulders. Leona chose to remain silent and took the rare opportunity to observe her older sister when she was still. Tanya was usually running around doing one thing or another at home and work so it was often hard to get her to stand still long enough for Leona to get a read on her. Now, however, she could see the lines of exhaustion etched into her sister’s face. They were deep and Leona frowned her concern at her sister.

‘You okay?’ She asked with a slight frown and a deep furrow of her brow.

“I’m fine.” Tanya broke their silence with a wave of her hand and a yawn, “I’m just, ya know, tired is all.”

Frustrated with the brush off, but unwilling to push Tanya, Leona stubbornly stared down at the chocolate depths in her mug, hoping that it held the answer of how to help her sister. The hot cocoa stared back, silent, and unhelpful.

“Is he asleep?” Tanya asked after a long drink of cocoa. Leona shrugged and copied her long sip with an even longer one.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Tanya huffed grumpily, unconsciously popping her curvy hip to one side and resting one long-fingered hand on it. Leona rolled her eyes at the familiar pose and grinned into her hot chocolate.

“It means that I put him to bed a couple of hours ago but I can’t guarantee that he’s asleep.” She said sassily and pushed away from the counter and headed back to the living room where her nest of blankets sat waiting in front of the TV, which flashed with the colorful opening credits to yet another Disney movie. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched Tanya exit the kitchen a few seconds later, sans mug, and head for the stairs.

“Night.” She called distractedly, not even tearing her eyes away from the screen in front of her.

Tanya rolled her eyes at Leona’s blanket-covered form but her smile gave away her lack of real annoyance. She called back her goodnight and trudged up the stairs with what little energy she had left in her body. She walked quietly down the narrow hall until she reached the door at the end of the hall. It was covered in stickers and hand-drawn signs claiming that a TOP SECRET lab lay beyond the door. Tanya felt a tired but fond smile spread over her face, softening it. She slowly and quietly opened the door to reveal the cluttered bedroom of her four-year-old son.

She picked her way through the mess of toys on the floor and over to the Spaceship bunk bed that she and her father had spent hours assembling. She rested her arms on the railing that came to about her chest and leaned on it. The blanket covered form let out an excited wiggle and an exaggerated snore that she was very familiar with.

“Buzz....” she sighed fondly and grabbed the bundle of blankets, pulling it down to reveal the grinning face of her little boy. His usually spiked blonde hair lay flat on his head and his blue-green eyes squinted at her from his cherubic, glasses-less face. She gave him an unimpressed grin and he sat immediately sat up and wrapped his little arms around her neck like a koala bear.

“Mommy!” He cried out excitedly and Tanya couldn’t help but hug him back. When he finally pulled away she fixed him with her best interrogation look.

“We’re you good for Aunty Leona?” She asked and received an equally serious little nod in reply.

“Then why are you, ya know, still awake?” She fired back, but instead of looking contrite another bright, innocent smile broke out on his face.

“I was waiting for you, Mommy.” And just like that Tanya was defeated. Her heart melted and she laid him back down in bed, running her long fingers gently through his hair in a soothing motion.

“Well, that was very no- nob- sweet of you honey.” She stuttered slightly as her throat closed up with emotion, “But you need your sleep for ice skating lessons tomorrow.”

She smiled when she saw Buzz’s eyelids drooping sleepily as he held back a stubborn yawn. The yawn broke free of his hold and g he e tried to talk through it, resulting in an almost unintelligible protest.

“But I’m not tired.”

Tanya chuckled good-naturedly and kept running her fingers through his hair. Buzz pouted adorably and nuzzled his face into her arm.

“Can I have a story?” He mumbled against her skin.

Tanya could tell that he was already mostly asleep but she decided to indulge him nonetheless. “What do you want to hear tonight?”

“Mighty Ducks.” He crowed out sleepily and Tanya let out a full belly laugh at that.

“But you hear about them almost every night. Are you sure?” She watched as her son nodded vigorously and looked up at her with those big pleading eyes.

“All right.” The minute she gave in he burrowed further under his warm blankets and peered up at her from the depth of his big fluffy pillow.

“Once upon a time there was a hockey team in Isboro called the Mighty Ducks. They were the best team of them all... because they were a family.”

#mdtas #mighty ducks the animated series #mighty ducks #my new fanfic #anybody left in this fandom?#human au #childhood friends #reunited and it feels so good

1 note · View note

19molly97 · 5 years ago

Photo

My Own Mighty Ducks by SonicFanGirl321

Today is the 23rd anniversary of the Mighty Ducks cartoon! And I thought I'd post a picture of my original Ducks to celebrate. (from left to right.) Skate O'Blade is a risk taking rebel, but friendly to her fellow teens and ducks. She's Tanya Vanderflock's apprentice, because of her engineering skills, and expertise in Physics and Geometry. Her street skills are an asset too, even Duke L'Orange is impressed. Skate and Nosedive Flashblade love making mischief, having fun, and doing that together. Wildwing Flashblade has doubts about Skate being good, but he realized how much she cares for his baby brother. Evangeline Feathersoft is the voice of reason on the Team. She knows when to speak up, and when not to pry. She serves as a Guidance Counselor(mainly toward Danielle), but on the battlefield she has mad Hockey Staff skills. Evangeline would spend her free time painting, writing poetry, or meditating with Grin Hardwing. Danielle Angelwing is the Medic of the Team, and very good at what she does. Because of her low self-esteem, Danielle is prone to shy away, have a break down. But the Team all do their part to help her, and she's more brave than she realizes. Mallory McMallard would take her shopping to help her get used to crowds and see her own beauty. Danielle's proven to be just as brave and selfless as Canard Thunderbeak, which he is touched by. DUCKS ROCK!!! (c) Disney

#mdtas #mighty ducks #mighty ducks cartoon #wildwing flashblade #nosedive flashblade #mallory mcmallard #duke l'orange #tanya vanderflock #grin hardwing #canard thunderbeak #disney ducks #disney afternoon #disney oc

5 notes · View notes

katwarrior · 5 months ago

Text

Some Flashblade brother hurt/comfort for a friend whose birthday is today (like mine!), @mari-lwyd

On the Mighty Ducks discord sever it's been mentioned that Nosedive would be a great paramedic because he survived being in a prison camp and had seen Some Shit.

It's a good thing too because Wildwing probably did something stupid.

#MDTAS #nosedive flashblade #wildwing flashblade #Mighty Ducks #my art

16 notes · View notes

stainedvenom · 10 months ago

Text

Safe and Sound Just Took a Vacation

"Nosedive, quit acting like a brat and get back here so we can talk!"

"I got somewhere to be, so no!"

"You're not going out with Thrash and Mookie! We need to talk-"

"You can't tell me what to do!"

Wildwing followed Nosedive as he walked towards the hanger, clearly fuming. "Nosedive Flashblade, get back here!"

"Dude, I'm going out, I don't care what you say!" Nosedive swiftly grabbed a helmet, heading towards the Duckcycles.

"Why are you being so stubborn about talking to me?!" Wildwing yelled.

"Because it's about something stupid that I don't want to talk about!" the younger one yelled back, getting onto one of the vehicles, putting the key in to start it up.

"Nosedive-"

The rev of the cycle killed any noise, the younger one speeding off towards the exit.

The leader sighed, watching him leave, anger dissipating. "I know something's wrong with you baby brother. Why won't you talk about it?"

"A bit of trouble?"

Wildwing turned to see Grin behind him, looking like he was about to leave as well. "I guess you could say that," the leader confessed. "I know something's going on with Nosedive, but he won't talk to me. Half the time, he looks like he wants to say something, but then we get interrupted somehow."

"Nothing ever goes away until it has taught us what we need to know," Grin stated. "He will come to you when he's ready."

"I suppose," Wildwing agreed. "I just wish he would talk now instead of later, he's been like this for almost two weeks."

"He is young and may have trouble speaking his mind," the larger drake reminded him.

"Yeah...I guess I'll go kill some time until he gets back."

--------------------------------------------------------------

12:38 AM

The clock on the shelf glowed brightly as Wildwing stared at it from his bed. Nosedive still wasn't back yet and the elder Flashblade was starting to get worried.

But Grin was right, there was nothing he could do for now. His brother didn't want to talk for some reason, and there was no need to check his communicator again; the last time he had checked the homing beacon, Nosedive was at one of the places he frequented with his friends, so Wildwing knew he was okay for now.

The leader stretched, curling back onto his side, facing away from the door. He wasn't sure if he was going to be able to sleep at this rate-

The door suddenly opened, the younger Flashblade walking in and kicking his shoes off. Wildwing pretended to be asleep, not wanting to continue the argument so late if Nosedive was still in a bad mood. He listened as Nosedive moved around, getting ready for bed.

He heard his brother crawl into his own bed, but the dim light he kept was still on. Listening carefully, the older brother could've sworn he heard Nosedive talking.

"...I wish I could talk to you Wing. But I don't know how this time."

A few moments later, the light was turned off, Wildwing wondering on what he had overheard as Nosedive settled down to sleep.

--------------------------------------------------------------

"Ngh...don't...please..."

The leader's eyes fluttered open, hearing talking. What's going on? Someone trying to get me through the comm?

Checking the communicator on his wrist, he popped it open to see no new notifications and the clock was dimly lit to show 2:47 AM. Sitting up, he rubbed an eye and looked around the room when his eyes laid upon Nosedive's bed.

The younger one was twisted up in the sheets, in the throes of sleep, covered in a sheen of sweat. "Ayraith, Avka, Dantothe...laan, laan sayd czek..."

Wildwing silently but quickly walked from his bed and over to Nosedive's, gently laying a hand on his forehead. "I'm here baby brother," he said quietly. "I'm not leaving you."

The younger one seemed to calm down, opening his eyes a little. Even though they were open, the leader could clearly tell his sibling was not awake. "Si'm craskid fip dantothe," Nosedive said, his voice sounding small.

It broke Wildwing's heart; not only was his brother speaking traditional Ducainian in his sleep, but something was there in his mind that the older one wasn't sure how to fight. Removing his hand from his brother's forehead, he went to fix the layers of cloth that were tangled up. "I know you're scared, but I'm here now," he reassured his brother, covering the teen with the blankets. "I won't let anything hurt you."

He could hear Nosedive's breathing even out a bit as he fixed the bed. Maybe he can get some sleep now, Wildwing thought, about to head back to his own bed when he heard it.

"Wing? Can...can you stay with me? Like when we were little?"

The leader looked back at his brother's bed to see him half-awake, having rolled onto his side, looking up at him. Great Mother of Ducks, he looked so much younger than his seventeen years. Sometimes it was easy to forget just how old Nosedive was when the Invasion had started; he'd just turned fifteen a month or so prior to the initial attacks.

Wildwing gave him a small smile, coming back to the bed. "Scoot over you little dork."

Nosedive obeyed, moving over so there was enough room for his brother to lay down next to him. Once the older Flashblade got situated, the teen laid his head on his brother's chest. "...I'm sorry."

The leader wrapped an arm around Nosedive, stroking his hair in an act to comfort the younger one. "What for?"

"I...I know I've been a jerk wad for a while. And you don't deserve it-"

"Baby brother, it's gonna happen every once in a while. Siblings fight, get moody, or whatever else. Even back on Puckworld, we had fights or wouldn't talk to each other for a while for whatever reason."

"It's just...I don't think we've had a fight since we got here," Nosedive pointed out, wrapping an arm around Wildwing in a half-hug. "Not really anyway."

"I know," the elder agreed. "But I'm worried about you. That's why I wanted to talk to you earlier, because it seems like you've had something on your mind lately." He paused, wondering if now was the best time to ask, especially since he had just witnessed what he believed the problem was. "Are you having nightmares again about the Invasion?"

"Y-yeah...it's from when it started, and we got separated."

"What happens in the nightmare?"

"You and me are headed to where Mom worked, since it was the closest to where we were when the attacks hit," Nosedive started, sounding scared. "A bunch of people come rushing by, and no matter how hard we tried to keep our grip on one another, the crowd still split us up."

Wildwing remembered this part well. He had tried to keep a hold of Nosedive's hand as the crowd and machines were around, but eventually the rushing citizens had split them up and he had lost his younger brother. "What happens next?" he asked.

"...this is the dream part," the younger one clarified. "I'm still heading for the hospital to look for Mom, thinking maybe you'll meet up there. But...one of the generals from the camps finds me. Says I'm being 'insubordinate' or something. He's one of the taller ones, so he picks me up by the back of my shirt and vest. The brand...he's got it ready to-"

"It's okay," Wildwing soothed, starting to hear tears in his brother's voice. "You're safe now. We're together again, and nothing is going to change that."

"We haven't been safe since the Invasion started."

"I don't think that's entirely true. For us, it's more like...safe and sound took a vacation."

The teen scoffed at that before yawning. Wildwing nuzzled the top of Nosedive's head with the side of his bill. "Get some sleep baby brother. How about we spend the day together when we get up in the morning? We haven't had a lot of time to do something like that."

Nosedive hummed in agreement, starting to nod off. "Sounds like fun..."

Within moments, he was asleep.

Wildwing yawned himself but kept thinking as he continued to stroke Nosedive's blonde hair.

I won't let anyone do something like that to you ever again. You deserve to be having fun at your age, just playing hockey, going out with your friends, watching movies, all of that without the added bonus of worrying if Dragaunus or some random villain is going to pop up around the corner. You shouldn't have to be a Resistance member, but you have to, whether to protect yourself or whatever dimension we happen to be in.

The older Flashblade sighed. "I promise I'll keep looking after you, even when we don't agree on something," he said quietly. "At the end of the day, you're still my little brother. I won't let anything happen to you. As long as I'm standing, I'll do my best to keep you safe."

--------------------------------------------------------------

*FLASH*

Wildwing squeezed his eyes shut, hearing the clicking and whirring sound of a camera.

Wait, camera...?

Opening his eyes, he was met face to face with Duke, who did in fact have a Polaroid camera in one hand, developing picture in the other hand. "Mornin' sunshine," the elder drake greeted. "Was wonderin' if ya were gonna wake up."

"What time is it?" Wildwing asked, yawning.

"About six thirty, give or take," Duke answered. "Kid have a bad dream?"

"How'd you know?"

"As somewhat of an insomniac and a duck who is not unfamiliar with that territory, I could see tha' signs," the gray drake said. "Bags und'ah tha' eyes, bein' cranky, tryin' ta' hide that with his usual cockiness, etcetera."

Before the leader could retort, Nosedive started moving a little, making a sleepy noise. "It's okay Dive, go back to sleep," Wildwing said quietly, petting his brother's hair. "It's still kinda early."

Duke smiled a bit, watching as the youngest member of the team settled back into a deep sleep. "I'll let tha' otha's know that practice is cancelled."

"Thanks. And...can you let them know not to bother me or Nosedive today? Unless it's an emergency of course."

"Yeah, I can do that. I think tha' two of ya are overdue for some brother'lay bondin'."

"And Duke?"

"Yeah?"

"Show that to any of the others and Nosedive and I will put clam chowder in all of your boots."

The older one chuckled. "Ya got it boss."

Notes:

Translations: Ayraith, Avka, Dantothe...laan, laan sayd czek = Mother, Father, Brother...please, please help me Si'm craskid fip dantothe = I'm scared big brother

#themightyducksanimatedseries #the mighty ducks #fanfiction #ao3 fanfic #ao3 writer #hurt/comfort #fluff #ptsd #oneshot #nightmare

1 note · View note

puckyeahmightyducks · 7 years ago

Text

Broken Sticks

Emily encouraged me to let Wildwing die. Since I didn’t have the energy to go write something new, I just re-read something I wrote a couple years ago. Now you get to ;) Enjoy the angst and super depression!

Broken Sticks Words: 1592

Nosedive stared down at the struggling body of his brother. Wildwing hadn’t moved once in the past two days. The Medicom showed no signs of improvement. Swelling in his brain had only increased; even if he did eventually wake up, there was no telling what kind of mental capacity would remain. Tanya’s skilled hands had done everything possible to stave off infection from the hole in his gut; but, she had not succeeded.

The rock in the back of his throat made breathing difficult for Nosedive as he finally accepted the reality of what was going to happen. There had been too much damage to his body for Wildwing to survive. Trying desperately not to cry, he reached over and picked up his brother’s limp hand.

“Hey, Wing,” he spoke softly, as if afraid that anything louder would shatter his tenuous hold on existence. “I know you’ve been fighting hard. But, it’s okay, ya know? You can go. I’ll be alright.”

Lower beak trembling, the youth refused to allow his tears freedom to flow. Wildwing was still here; he would not cry until his brother had left him for the final time.

Silence reigned supreme as the two Flashblade’s waited in the infirmary. Thoughts of all the times Wildwing had pulled through severe illnesses or injuries in the past floated through Nosedive’s mind. He’d always been the one to see Wildwing through; but, something was different this time. Maybe it was because he was older, or maybe it was the skills he had gained in the slave camps and here on Earth, but he knew he could survive without his brother, even if it was going to be difficult. Patiently, he sat by his sibling’s side, dreading the inevitable.

Suddenly, Nosedive realized exactly why Wildwing hadn’t let go. He still didn’t know exactly what had happened during that week in the camps that Wildwing had been taken from him, but his brother had been secretly terrified by needles and anything medical after that experience. The infirmary was the last place he would want to die in. No, Nosedive couldn’t allow him to pass in a place that he hated, not if he had anything to do with it.

Sorrow vanished as he formed a plan. Determined to do whatever he could, he stood and removed the IV delivering antibiotics and anti-inflammatory medication from the white feathered arm. Gently placing one of Wildwing’s arms around his neck, he lifted him off the bed and made his way upstairs. Years of playing hockey and strength training enabled him to carry his much heavier sibling with ease.

Cold air from the Pond’s air conditioning swirled around Nosedive as he kicked open the gate leading to the ice. Being careful not to slip, he carried Wildwing over to the goal crease. Slowly, gently, he lowered himself and his brother to the frozen surface. Cradling Wildwing in his lap, he did what he could to make the injured drake comfortable.

“Know where we are?” Picking up one of Wildwing’s hands, he placed it on the bright red post of the goal. “Feel that? It’s your net. We’re on the ice. It’s not quite home, but it’s the best I can do.”

Ignoring the return of the lump in his throat, he activated his com and contacted the whole team.

“Guys? Meet me on the ice,” was all he could manage. He quickly shut it off, not wanting to hear a response. They would come or they wouldn’t. He just hoped they came in time to say goodbye.

Duke was the first to appear. The gray drake stared at Nosedive, confusion giving way to understanding as he walked to the goal crease. Not saying a word, he squeezed the youth’s shoulder and knelt in front of them.

Tanya and Mallory appeared next. Mallory took in the sight with a grim determination before moving to Duke’s right and kneeling as well. Tanya instantly started crying, knowing exactly why they had been called. Heartbroken, she took up her position to Duke’s far left, leaving a gap where Nosedive would have been if he wasn’t in the blue crease.

Not knowing what to say, the ducks quietly sat and gave each other support by simply being present.

Finally, Grin appeared. He carried one of each of their hockey sticks, Wildwing’s included. Each stick had been cut almost through at the center, except for the goal stick. Setting them aside, he knelt to Mallory’s right, completing the semicircle around their fallen leader.

Placing his palms together, the giant lowered his head and bowed deeply, honoring his friend and captain. When he straightened, he calmly took in each teammate’s appearance. Nobody quite knew what to do, so he took the lead.

“Wildwing.” Grin’s voice was deep and comforting. “It has been a great honor to know you. You have always been patient and understanding. You gave of yourself freely, never asking for anything in return. A leader with your skill is very rare. Knowing you has enriched us all. Go into the light and be at peace.” Having said his part, he looked to Mallory, silently asking her to continue.

The redhead cleared her throat and looked heavenward, hoping to find her voice. She had experienced loss before, but never quite like this. Swallowing her tears, she found some hidden inner strength to finally speak.

“You’re a hell of a leader, Wing. I’ve served under a lot of team captains, but none of them were half as good as you. I’ll do whatever I can to complete the mission. I promise you, we’ll defeat Dragaunus and get home.” Falling silent, she studied her hands, unable to look at anyone else.

Duke shook his head, not wanting to continue. He hated this. Why were they giving up on Wildwing? He could still make it! He wasn’t dead yet and it was wrong to write him off. A familiar, old anger began to fill his soul. Finding his voice, he spoke his mind.

“You’re damn selfish if you up and die on us now, Wildwing. I’m not leadership material and you know it.”

“Duke!” Mallory swiftly punched him in the shoulder, infuriated by his words.

“Cool it, Mallory,” Duke growled. “I wasn’t finished.” Taking a deep breath, he continued. “I’ll do my best, even if it isn’t near what you did for us. I remember my promise and I’ll keep it. Keep fighting, Wing. We need you.”

Tanya’s shoulders shook as she quietly sobbed. Her lilac tinted glasses had been removed and she held them in one hand, the other covering her eyes. Taking pity on her, Grin went to her side and gently embraced the sorrowful tech. She leaned into him, grateful for the support, and continued to cry. After several moments, she added her final words to the leader.

“I’m so sorry, Wildwing. I could have- should have- I just-” Her voice and words were lost to grief.

Nosedive hugged his brother close. He hoped Wildwing had been able to hear everyone. Oh, how he wanted to cry too, but the tears just wouldn’t come. All he could feel was a deep numbness, like he was somehow separated from his emotions and couldn’t react in the proper way.

“I love you, bro,” he whispered again as he released the hug and once more allowed his brother’s body to rest on his knees.

Slowly, Wildwing opened his eyes and looked up at his baby brother. Words weren’t needed to express the love and gratitude he felt.

“Wing?” Nosedive excitedly broke into a smile as he met his brother’s gaze. Slowly, the joy faded as he realized what it meant.

After silently saying goodbye, Wildwing’s eyes closed once more. Struggling, he took a shallow breath, then another, and went still.

“Take care of Mikayla for me,” Nosedive told the limp form of his brother. “And tell Mom and Dad I love them if you see them.”

Duke stood, tears forming in his good eye. Picking up his stick from the pile Grin had placed on the frozen surface, he brought it down over his thigh, snapping it in two. After placing the two pieces where he had been sitting, he gathered the rest of the sticks and passed them out.

Mallory and Grin repeated Duke’s action, placing their sticks to the right of Duke’s in reference to their positions as right wing and right defense. Tanya held her stick in both hands, unable to bring herself to admit that Wildwing was gone. Duke and Mallory each lay a comforting hand on her shoulders. Drawing strength from her teammates, Tanya broke her stick and lay it next to the left goalpost.

Duke held the two remaining sticks while Grin dropped to one knee in front of Nosedive. After gently taking Wildwing’s body from him, he carefully stepped around the broken equipment and made way for their new leader to hand the sticks to their owner.

Nosedive robotically took them. Tangling two loops from the top of the net around the knob of Wildwing’s goal stick, he left the broad bladed equipment intact, danging from the net for all to see. Stepping out of the blue semicircle he had been occupying, he too broke his hockey stick, and lay it just to the left of Duke’s.

“Put him in our room,” Nosedive told Grin. “I’ll stand vigil.”

With that, the team left the ice. The memorial symbolizing their shattered hearts and broken team was left to tell any who found it of their great leader’s passing.

#My writing #mdtas #wildwing flashblade #dark places #nosedive flashblade

9 notes · View notes