Mighty Ducks TAS is copyrighted to Disney and used solely for the entertainment of fans. However, some of the ideas of culture of the Ducks is mine. I give a huge dose of credit to FishyFloat for the inspiration. If you haven't read her stories, please do as they are excellently crafted!

Nosedive showing up to Captain Comics was hardly news-worthy. Heck, it was more alarming if he failed to show up at least once every three days, usually more. Thrash and Mookie had grown accustomed to and treasured these visits. Despite being from another planet and from a different species entirely, you never could have known it when the three of them convened together. When that happened, they were simply three teenagers, nothing more and nothing less. Kindred spirits were hard to find, no matter what your star of origin so it was a well-known fact among the regulars in the shop that if the Mighty Duck was present, expect to just hunt the shop for Mookie or Thrash when you wanted to check out because they likely wouldn't be hanging out by the counter.

All these were well established facts that had been rooted over the course of the past year.

Nosedive slamming the door open at eight thirty AM, teeth clenched, hair sweaty and muttering to himself in whatever language the ducks naturally spoke was a new phenomenon.

"Hey, Dive!" Thrash called to him right away, "What's the haps?"

"Yeah," Mookie chimed in, making her way around the counter, her eyes set on her friend's. "You're, like, totally buggin'."

Pushing himself up on the counter, Nosedive responded to their inquiry with a sharp "Flis'kka Phil quar'kaka liiiga kuq-nak!" Burying his face into his hands, he groaned loudly and dug his fingers into his ratty hair. Breathing hard, it was hard to think straight and he didn't even realize that Mookie had gone and turned the 'open' sign to 'closed' until she came back and hopped up next to him. Thrash leaned over the counter and offered a soda to Dive which he took without comment. The three of them waited a moment until Nosedive seemed to be more in control then Thrash inquired.

"Okay, so, like, I totally caught Phil and that you're majorly pissed off but that was about it." He gently pushed his friend's shoulder "Can you give us a replay in English, Dude?"

Finally catching himself and forgetting that his closest friends did not speak his home language (and to be fair Avia or Puckworld as the younger generation had come to call it out of awe for Drake Ducain, had at least 10 well-known languages with Avian/Ducainian being the official one), he responded "Oh, it's beyond pissed off, homies. He's got a lot of nerve. I mean, natch, he isn't the best human on this planet but I thought he had SOME morals, ya know? Maybe not much but some." He was having a really hard time not getting livid again and he found himself tossing in a word or two in Ducainian without meaning to, though at least he was able to catch it that time and correct it. Frustrating though. Some of what he wanted to say really didn't have a good English equivalent. What would have taken a word or two in his mother tongue took almost three to four sentences in English. He used English—or they called it common back home—more often than not anymore but in times like this, oh, if he didn't miss a good conversation in Ducainian! Even back home, Common was used more often than Ducainian but if you wanted a real deep conversation, you went back to your roots. He hadn't the heart to wake the others so early and ask for a conversation in DuCainian; he'd never requested it before and some of the others were likely to greet him with a curse if he woke them up that early to ask to talk. Much as he liked pestering them at times, there was a line he would not cross and for a group that was constantly fighting an evil overlord, sleep was one of them.

Enter his totally awesome human peeps!

It wasn't his language but it was attentive. It was listening. Mookie and Thrash, as always, just waited. Despite their rather unorthodox personalities (at least as far as most of society was concerned) if you needed a listening ear, they were flawless. So, leaning back, taking advantage of the soda he had been offered as well as the chocolates that had been haphazardly dumped on the counter, he stated "It's my parents' Flocth Jubilee today." He thought a long moment, trying to think the appropriate term to translate it too. "You guys have days where you celebrate the date that a family started? When parents first get together and make a promise to each other?"

"Oh!" Thrash seemed to light up a bit "Sure, Dude. We call it a wedding anniversary."

Mookie inquired "You guys marry?" At Nosedive's look, she added "What? None of you are married so I didn't know." Every so often, Nosedive would give them an odd look at their customs so it seemed only natural that they were entitled to some. Though, to be fair, now that she thought about it, they never really asked about Nosedive's culture. Not really because they didn't want to know but because it felt awkward. They didn't want to bring up things to make their friend homesick. Occasionally, like now, topics would come up and they would learn that way. Had worked for them so far. "You _aren't_ right?"

Finally laughing a bit, Nosedive shook his head in a negative. Man, he wouldn't even be legally eligible for it for another six years back home! "Naw, just a buncha single folks! I can't even enter a Tev'as Promise yet." In response to her other inquiry, he went on, "We marry but we don't call it that. It's called Flocth…I guess, it would mean starting or growing a family in Common." He shrugged "Common is a weird language anyway and your English don't always match it." He added, popping a chocolate into his beak, "We don't have a verb for it like you do. You don't "do" Flocth, you enter into it. It's a thing, not an action. It's supposed to be this, like, lifelong commitment pact and it's really hard to get the government to break a Flocth bond. The school I went to had like, 3000 ducks and I think only one of them had parents with a broken Flocth." He leaned back a bit, resting his back against the wall. It looked extremely awkward, hanging off the edge of the counter but Nosedive was well known as the flexible one so this was hardly the weirdest position they'd seen him in. "So, today is my Mom and Dad's Flocth Jubilee and Phil was being a serui' jellic!" He ground his hands into tight fists, "Asking me if I could do a Heaarl for money?" He shuddered and cursed again though this one was said quieter and under his breath. "Who ASKS that?!"

Mookie frowned. She didn't need to know what serui' jellic meant. The tone alone said it was a pretty nasty term. You didn't need to know a language to catch the curses! She was fluent in Spanish; it was her mother's mother tongue and her friends often commented that they could always tell the cuss words, simply from her body language and tone when she spoke. But the other word…Nosedive had stated it with such reverence, more reverence than she had ever heard from his mouth. So, she bit. "What's a Heaarl, Dive?"

He stared at her, if only for a moment. The wideness of his eyes really drove home that this was something that Ducks apparently all knew about. Thrash gently nudged the adolescent with his shoulder, "'Member, we're Earthlings, Dive. Wanna clue us in?"

Nosedive suddenly felt a wee bit guilty about the extent of his anger at Phil and definitely about the verbal assault he had unleashed on the man (though, he couldn't remember how much of it, if any, had been in English) but it didn't lower the level of anger, just made him feel bad for having it. He had grown up with everyone, literally everyone, knowing about Heaarl. Even little ducklings barely out of the egg! So…duh, of course Earthlings would have no idea what it was but still, he thought Phil should have known a tradition wasn't supposed to sold out!

"Nosedive…" Mookie again, "We aren't mind-readers, man."

Seeming to shake himself out of the semi-trance, he replied with a matter-of-fact explanation, quite odd for him and his eyes still had that angered and now, a saddened tint, "Heaarl is a memorial. You perform a dance on ice to express yourself for someone that's died. They say that if you do it right, whomever you're doing it for can feel and see it."

Mookie answered first, "Your mom and dad are dead?" They'd never thought to ask but given that he had been talking about it being his parents' wedding anniversary and then this tradition, it seemed only natural to make that connection. Mookie, personally, had always assumed that his mother and father were just back on his home planet, what with the way their kids were! Stubborn as all get out, the both of them! It just seemed, with the way Nosedive talked about things that his parents would have been one of the ducks that figured out how to survive. The way they all chatted about "when we get home" she just figured that Dive knew his parents were alive and life would go back to normal for him. If not, well, then shoot, no wonder he got so steamed at Phil! It sounded like a Heaarl was a pretty sacred thing and to be asked to do it for money woulda been bad anyway but if it was for your family, that was just wrong.

"Killed during the invasion." Nosedive's tone was clipped. The male behind the counter eyed his duck friend with concern and sympathy. Thrash wasn't a psychologist but he heard something in that tone. Something told him that it had not been a case of learning they were killed. It was more personal. Hardly seemed right to push it right now though.

So he didn't.

Awkward silence after Nosedive's clarification. "Oh…sorry, man." Thrash finally spoke out. While he and his parents didn't exactly see eye-to-eye on some things, he couldn't imagine not having them. Mookie had a pretty close relationship with her mother, near as he could tell. Dive had never really told them a lot about his family, aside from Wildwing, except a phrase or two on his mom, an occasional reference to how Wildwing acted like their Dad, maybe a statement or two on some family memories if they related to what they were talkin' about at the time. Beyond that, he didn't offer and they didn't push.

Nosedive seemed to recover and sat up, stating "Eh, it's okay. I'm not the only one that lost someone. And I still got Big Bro!" His thoughts drifted back to his parents' deaths a moment but he quickly pushed that down. No good to think on that. Think of the better times. It had been getting harder to do that lately but he didn't know why. It had been so easy to lose himself in human culture over the past year but now, trying to push aside those dark times of the camps and invasion was getting harder and harder. It made zilch sense to him. After a year…no, more than a year, why was it coming out now?

Because he still hadn't told Wildwing all the details? Because he had not really talked about what happened during the half year he had been separate from his brother? Because it was easier to just try and ignore that part of his life? He shook his head sharply, trying to force those melancholy thoughts away. He was the cheerful one! Not his place to be all angry and mopey.

Though, that seemed to re-ignite the fire that was his anger at Phil. Ignorance or not, he saw red simply thinking about what the man had said and damn it, his job was to be the happy one and he just couldn't be right now. He gritted his teeth and clenched his fists tight again but then quickly focused on his friends' voices to bring him out of it. He needed to be not 'punch and ask later' when he went back to the Pond. He had to be all jokes and laughs and gags. That was his job. The only person he could let that down around was Wildwing and his brother had far too much on his plate right now. So, he needed to get these emotions under control.

"Okay," Mookie offered, twirling some of her loose hairs on a finger. "So Phil saw you doing a He-aa-rl? Then you left after he went all blood-thirsty-money-mode on you?" When Nosedive nodded at her pronunciation as well as her assumption, she continued, "But couldn't you finish it somewhere else?"

"Yeah," Thrash chimed in "I mean, maybe not here but up north, the lakes are starting to freeze over, man. Could you do it there?"

Inspiration lit up in the duck's eyes. Truthfully, the ideal location was up north. Nature or a place of historical significance was the best. Since Earth carried no significance for them yet and never would for his mother and father, a natural frozen lake, preferably with falling snow would have been perfect. He had wanted to do it early so he wouldn't bug the others but now that it had been interrupted, and in the worst of ways, he knew he wouldn't feel better until he finished it. Plus, now that the Pond's rink felt a little 'dirty' with Phil's suggestion, he needed something else. "Which ones are frozen already?" he inquired "Isn't it early for that, chica?" he eyed Mookie.

She shook her head "Naw, this year they were saying that the freeze was coming early. My uncle lives up near Mammoth Lakes and he says they've been frozen for, like, two weeks."

"How far are those?" he asked simply, letting his legs dangle off the counter. Now that the idea had been put in his head and he had a potential spot, he was on drive mode. The idea of actually being able to complete his Heaarl was comforting and soothed the ache in his heart. Much as he hid it, this day had been one he had been dreading for a month. When he realized they were coming up on the date in Earth terms (it had been an approximation because Avia had a significantly longer year than Earth) the nightmares that he had pushed to the very back of his mind had come back full-force, only worsening with each day. It was a miracle that he had not woken someone up with a scream or two. "How do I get there?" he added before his friends could answer his first question. Didn't matter how far they were. If they were frozen over, they'd do.

"Well," Thrash went and dug in their drawer of the abyss as they liked to call it and took out an old folded map. "Let's see…" He had never been too good at maps but he knew Mookie could point the way if she saw it. "Up north and into the mountains, right, Mook?"

"Give me that thing!" Snatching the parchment from the baffled Thrash, Mookie was quickly tracing a route with her finger, rolling her eyes a bit at Thrash's inability to read a simple map, "You just start out on the 57 and then get on the 60 and then the 15…" She gave a few more directions which Nosedive was putting into some kind of voice recorder on his comm before she ended with "It's a really big lake with all kinds of trees and stuff. You can't miss it if you tried." Nosedive thanked the both of them and headed for the door.

"Hey, Dive!"

The duck turned briefly and barely caught the small bag that Thrash tossed to him. Peering inside, he found a handful of snacks and a soda. "For the road," Thrash smirked. "Can't do a road trip without the snacks. It's, like, illegal."

Throwing his two humans friends a smile, Dive headed for his Duckcycle.

OOOO

"Is it really that big a deal that the kid missed practice, Wildwing?" Duke kept pace with his leader, though with a casual demeanor. "I mean, it ain't the worst thing he's ever done. Probably won't be the last either." Curiosity was burning through the ex-thief's mind, despite his calm demeanor. Oh, he didn't think anything bad had happened to the kid but it was worth noting if a teenager was ever up and about this early. He didn't think it was capable for him to get up before ten without some kind of threat yet they'd all come down in the morning to find the remains of a simple breakfast in the sink (cause apparently all ducklings, regardless of age, were incapable of putting dishes away) and one of the Duckcycles gone. The unusual behavior was enough to get their Captain nervous, though he used the "he's missing practice" excuse to save face.

Duke saw right through it but he went along with it for simplicity's sake.

Wildwing nodded in agreement to Duke's assessment. "Oh, believe me, I know what Nosedive is capable of. That's not why I want to talk to him." The white plummed duck kept his face devoid of emotion, though there really was no reason to. Duke knew the whole 'missed practice' was simply an excuse to go seek his sibling out and now that they were away from the others, Wildwing was not about to insult both of them by keeping up that façade. Funny that he had come to trust Duke, of all ducks, as his confidant but he had. As they made their way through Anaheim Mall towards Captain Comics, he was glad for the company, even if he was not completely ready to reveal the depths of his thoughts. Duke never pushed and so he was free to keep it to himself if he wanted.

That still left the issue of their youngest member. He didn't like the idea of his brother being so full of emotion without any outlet, hence his pursuit of him after discovering Phil's frantic state. If he knew his brother well and he did, then Nosedive would have gone straight to his usual hang out. "I'm not even really mad, Duke. A little irritated, maybe, but not mad." Irritated was one way of putting it. Wildwing was a bit exasperated to be frank. This day was an emotional one and he was already feeling it. Perhaps that's why he was giving his baby brother some lee-way. He was likely feeling it too.

Duke responded, stretching a bit, "Hey, I think it isn't a bad thing to have Phil told to back off once in a while. Just never expected it to come from the kid's beak."

Sending the ex-thief a knowing smirk, Wildwing remarked "You don't know Nosedive like I do. He's got Mom's temper but Dad's fuse." Wildwing continued, though he was likely babbling some, if only to keep him from thinking on the parents whom were not with him on this day. "Takes a lot to make Nosedive really lose it but you remember when he does."

"I'll keep that in mind" Duke responded "I take it that you're not the same?" He eyed Wildwing, "Never really seen you lose it either, Wing."

The white duck shrugged "I guess I'm more like Dad. Easy going…"

Knowingly, the elder male responded "Unless it concerns Nosedive."

Allowing a smile of defeat, the leader consented "Guilty as charged."

The door to the familiar comic shop jingled upon the entry of the two ducks and predictably Thrash was quick to greet them, "Hey, guys! Thought you'd be comin' around!"

Mookie headed over, wiping her hands on a paper towel before balling it up and tossing it in the wastebin. "Yeah, Dive took off about, like, two hours ago."

Wildwing's heart sped up a moment but he quickly schooled it. "Was he upset when he came in?" He inquired simply. His little brother didn't get angry or upset very often but if Phil's shaken state when they had seen him that morning, something had happened. Babbling about Nosedive looking like he wanted "to make a puck out of me" was any indication then Nosedive's temper was in rare form today.

Thrash eyed the older male. "Uh, yeah. Like, totally steamed."

Mookie folded her arms, leaning against the wall. "I got no clue what he called Phil when he came in but I'm willin' to bet it was a good insult."

Duke chuckled a bit, "Just don't go repeatin' it. Tanya may not be as forgiving as us."

Thrash drummed his fingers on the counter a bit, "We sent Dive up North. He's on a hunt for a frozen lake."

"Uh…he does know we got a frozen rink right at the Pond, doesn't he?" Duke knew all too well that Dive was aware of it but he wasn't taking advantage of it. Best way to get some answers out of these two humans though. "He could save us the gas money."

"Well, duh, but he can't use that rink, Duke." Mookie rolled her eyes like it was an obvious answer. "He said Phil "corrupted" it."

Wildwing snorted a little at her wording "Phil would charge money for looking at that thing if he could. If that isn't corrupted, then I dunno what is…"

"No, Wildwing." Mookie put her hands on her hips and there was genuine concern coloring her features. "Look, can we cut the 'I'm worried but not worried' crap? You came out here to look for Dive, he came in here steamed as all get out and said he hadda finish his Hear-l.." She trailed a bit in confidence at the end. There were some words that simply could not be pronounced correctly with a human tongue. She hoped she had not used an entirely different word.

Wildwing and Duke stiffened like she had just thrown cold water on them. Duke lost the playfulness to his look and Wildwing's muscles tensed. "A Heaarl?"

Thrash chimed in, leaning over "Yeah, man. Didn't tell us much but guess Phil was doing his 'can we make money off this' scheme he likes to pull."

A simple statement but that was like a switch had been thrown. The entire atmosphere of room changed. Thrash couldn't really pinpoint a similar situation he had ever been involved in. Oh, he'd had his share of awkward situation Oh, there was a fire in both drakes' eyes now and it was Duke that spoke out first, his teeth already clenched tight and his hands ground into fists. "He was-Phil, you slimy—"

"Kug-nag?" Thrash offered, still half leaning over the counter and completely ignoring that their customers had created a small audience. When the unfamiliar word passed his lips, Wildwing set him with a look that was equal parts amusing and terrifying.

"Nosedive call him that?" Duke asked before Wildwing could. When Thrash nodded, the ex-thief remarked. "Can't say I blame the kid."

Wildwing snorted, "I'd have used something a bit harsher, personally."

Duke folded his arms. "If Phil's state was any indicator, the kid mighta beat you to it this morning." He didn't blame the kid, not in the least. He might not have been as picky on language as Wildwing could be for the kid (though just the other day, Duke found himself biting his tongue from scolding the kid) but even Wildwing would have approved quite a few choice words for such an act. The very idea of using a Heaarl for money? Did Phil also think it was proper to charge money for tickets to a family member's funeral? Much as the dark feathered drake did not like to think so, he wasn't entirely convinced he would not try it. Phil was an odd human. In some ways, he certainly showed that he had strong morals and that there were lines he would not cross but then with something like this and he—

"He doesn't know our culture." Wildwing said it out loud and Duke wasn't sure if it was said for himself or for Duke or for both. In any event, it didn't help much. The ex-thief was seriously considering how much collateral damage to their manager could be deemed accidental. "Still a sleazy move but…" Wildwing trailed off a moment and Duke briefly noticed he was counting in their alien tongue under his breath. Much as he might have been preaching what the proper and correct response was, he was still steamed. "Do you know where Dive went?" He offered Duke a look. "Might need to go help him simmer down."

Maybe you can help each other. Duke mused.

Mookie gave a nod "Yeah, 'course. He said he needed to finish his Hearll so we tol' him to check out Mammoth Lakes. My Uncle said they were, like, nearly frozen solid already." She pulled out the same map they had gone over earlier and traced out the same route for the two older ducks. "Dive said he hadda finish so I figured we'd help. It's a drive but not a bad one."

Wildwing nodded, his face focused. "Thank you, Mookie. Mind if I take this?"

She nodded, waved her hand nonchalantly. "Go 'head. Dive was major-league buggin' when he came in here. But he never wants to bug you guys."

Duke rolled his eyes. "Kid can be annoying sometimes, sure, but not for omething' like this!"

Wildwing folded the map and stuck it into his jacket. "Dive doesn't think like that. He thinks he always hasta be the cheery one. I'll go track him down. Duke, can you fill Phil in on why asking for money for a Heaarl is a bad idea?"

The darkness in that laugh would have normally worried the leader but right now, he couldn't be bothered. So, when Duke clasped his hands together and said through his chuckles, "Oh, I would _love_ to educate our manager, Wildwing on why Heaarls ain't to be messed with."

"Do that. But no blood spilling, Duke."

"Me? 'Course not. Strictly educational here, Wildwing." Duke was already considering what would be considered educational and still frightening enough to make a point and it showed in his body language. The ex-thief might have had an interesting idea of what was appropriate and 'up and up' but his loyalty to the team and particularly to Nosedive had never been in question. Whatever he decided to do was not something the team leader wanted to imagine but it would be sufficient to keep him from having to deal with this when he got back.

That said, the two drakes separated and Wildwing was half out the door when Thrash called, "Hey, Wildwing!"

Turning, he almost got a bottle of Sprite to the left eye, if not for his goalie reflexes.

"For the road," the human clarified.

"…thanks."

OOO

The feel of natural ice under his skates was a feeling that Nosedive had missed. Anaheim wasn't exactly the environment for snowfall and frost and he missed it. Especially when this time of year back home would have been when the ice storms would have decorated everything in swirling different types of ice. He and Wildwing used to look forward to those days. Mom and Dad always found time to take them to the lakes up near Twin Beaks. Where the ice could stretch for miles.

Mom and him used to have their own special hobby. While hockey and particularly being a damn good and fast left wing, there was a side to Nosedive he kept to himself. It was mainly out of respect for his mother.

While their father had been quick to teach Wildwing all the traits of being a good goalie and they often did exercises for it together, Mom and him had focused more on speed and agility. That was her talent and he shared her build. Imagine his surprise when she told him to learn ice dancing with her.

His initial response had been to wrinkle his beak and complain. After all, he had argued, what hockey player was an ice dancer?

All the best ones, she had replied.

She was right, as she often was. The skill required for ice dancing made him flexible, agile, fast. It gave him the quick reflexes that had proven not only vital to the game but to survival when the attacks had come. A fast opponent was hard to conquer and even harder to catch.

Yet, it had been a long time since he had danced. It felt…wrong without her. All the same, he could think of no better means of giving her and Father the Heaarl they deserved. So, he took note of the area, the width of the lake and then closed his eyes.

Feel it. She used to say. Even through your skates, your body knows the ice.

He could feel it, the coolness, the waviness that only ice could give. He started with one foot then another. One after the other, from heel to toe and he pulled himself into the tight spins that he had not done for well over a year. Not since before the Invasion.

He did loops first. Then waltzs and then eventually what they called a Ducainan Jump back home because you mimicked a winning shot while in the air before landing into a tight revolution. He lost himself in it. Just him and the ice.

Him and his memories.

Mom and Dad.

He looked like her the most he supposed though he wouldn't know for sure until his Drake feathers came in. Wing always said he would look like Mom unless he had some of the weird feather colors from their ancestors. But, most likely, it would be either the white or golden plume of his parents.

He had to admit, he was not looking forward to it. If he ended up with his mother's coloring, it would be…hard to look at.

He should have done more. He should have tried to protect her, protect Dad. Sure, he was young—especially by their standards—but how could he have just stood there? He had stood there, frozen, like a silly little duckling and…

No. He would not and count not dwell on that now.

He needed to focus on something else. Anything else.

No, not on anything. On his parents. The good things.

The look of the laughing in Mom's eyes. Dad's deep rumbling voice whenever they would gather at dinner. The way she and Dad would almost seem to fade into one another when they were on the ice, as if they could read one another minds'.

Drift back…as if he were back on Puckworld and skating across the wide lake with Twin Beaks in the background. The soft wind of the icy drafts decorating the face, clinging to the feathers just enough that you could revisit the memory for a good few hours after going inside.

He was growing worn. Ice dancing was a strain on your body and he had long since lost track of how long he had been going. Every time he wanted to stop, every time his body started to complain to stop, all he could think about was his father…how his mother…

No. He would give them a Heaarl they were worthy of, no matter what it would cost him. The aching in his ankles were just an annoyance (though he knew under most circumstances, that was the warning sign that you should never ignore) and the buckets of sweat that were matting his feathers to his skin was expected, he told himself.

It was only when he came down from a axel spin and his left ankle caved entirely that it occurred to him that maybe he was being too lost in the process.

For the record, hitting ice hurt. It always hurt. Didn't matter if you'd done it once time or two hundred. Ice stuck to feather and skin and when you fell, gravity was never pleasant and you would tear something before you came to a stop.

For Nosedive, his pain came when his head hit the ice and he winced and yelped. It wasn't a serious hit—he'd taken worse in his life—but when the shock wore off, he was faintly aware of the throbbing in his ankles had become a screaming boil.

He could almost hear Mom now. She would have scolded and yelled and…

And…

He couldn't quite remember what she would have said.

She had done it so many times but the exact words, the way she would move her head just so…it was hazy.

That hurt harder than anything the Saurians could have hit him with. He always thought that those little things would stick with him the longest. Maybe he should have known better. After all, the little things we took for granted; they went first because you didn't think to grasp and hold them in your mind.

Nosedive opted to just lay there.

He wasn't really aware of how long he had been there until the booming baritone cut into his consciousness

"You're gonna be lucky if you don't lose half your hair when you finally stand up."

He blinked and focused and was aware of someone leaning over top of him. After a moment, he recognized Wildwing. After another moment, he was aware that his brother was not wearing the mask and that…that simple thing meant so much.

He swallowed, feeling salt and sand in his throat. How long had it been since he had drank any water? He about kicked himself. That was basic care but he had lost track of that. He had lost track of everything. He felt the cold for the first time and it was deep, embedded into his flesh through his feathers. He'd been out here too long and somehow, he'd never connected with that simple fact. The sky was turning the first shades of orange and yellow; blue had long since fled.

Right now, Wildwing was the only thing that made any damn sense.

"Maha," he said simply. The Ducainian felt alien on his tongue. The term of endearment was something he didn't think he had used since they had been together in the camps. But now that it came out, it was like tearing a wound. "Maha."

His brother's face softened, a look that they usually reserved for just them. "Masa," he responded in kind.

Nosedive moved to sit up and yelped a bit, hands going to his scalp. Wing was right, as he usually was. His hair was all but matted to the ice.

"Juka," Wildwing's command was full of authority but just as full of affection. He grasped Nosedive's hair near the roots with one hand and painstakingly twisted the strands loose with the other. It made an ache develop in Nosedive's neck from the position but it was worth it when he was able to stand, shaking, with all his hair intact.

Wildwing wrapped his arm under his brother's shoulders, taking a lot of his weight onto his body. "You're not going to be able to walk on that ankle for a while, you know." He still spoke in Ducainian and Nosedive let out a sigh of relief at it.

"Wasn't good enough. I had to make it better. It wasn't good enough for them."

"Mom and Dad would have been chewing you out if they were here."

He couldn't argue that. "I know. But they're not."

Wildwing gave him a glance. "I can do it for them."

"Rather you didn't. You're a poor imitation of Dad's lectures and too stern for Mom's yelling."

Giving a simple tilt of the head, Wildwing didn't say anything else on it. Only when they reached the shore and sat against the leaning Duckcycles did he talk again. "Thrash and Mookie told us about what happened with Phil."

Nosedive just nodded. He didn't talk and that was more concerning than anything else. Wildwing offered his brother his own water bottle and after a moment of hesitation, the younger duck took it. The cold water made him realize how parched he was. He must have drained half of it before handing it back.

"Duke is talkin' with him. I doubt he'll make that mistake again."

Again, just a nod.

"Dive, you coulda come and got me, you know. Didn't need to make me track you down all the way up here. Though, Mookie was right—it's a nice drive."

"You got enough on your plate." Nosedive responded, sticking to Ducainian, even though Wildwing had slipped back into Common. "My job is to be the brainless jokester to keep you all from going all emo. When I got up this morning, knew that wasn't happening. I thought a Heaarl would help ease it. Help me…" He trailed off, shook his head. "It didn't."

Wildwing sighed. "Dive, it's okay to hurt. It's okay for you to not be the happy go lucky guy all the time. We all grieve in our own way. I know the others aren't always the best at reading you but they'd support you, you know."

He supposed he did know that. Maybe he had doubts with Mallory but…no, now that he thought about it, she might understand more than he thought. She was a military brat after all. It just seemed so weird to not…to not be able to go to Mom or to Dad.

"I know." Nosedive finally settled on. "But guess I wasn't ready for it." He looked skyward, pushing his flaky hair from his face and lingering on the icy coating a moment. "Dunno if I still am. I miss them, Wing."

The white feathered older duck nodded and crossed over the small distance between them and took his brother in a tight grasp. Nosedive clung to him as tight as he dared. "I miss them," he repeated before slipping to "Fruka! Fruka!"

Relief that he did not have to use the basic Common to convey his heart right now was nearly overwhelming. He did not routinely use 'fruka' and he only remembered his mother using it once—when her mother had passed when he was still a shrimp. No good English equivalent for it. How did you describe the kind of pain that was broken ice shards digging in your heart that lingered like frostbite and only seemed to worsen with time? There was only 'fruka.'

After a time, Wildwing pulled away and leaned down, tapping his beak against his brother's, once on each side. Nosedive could count on one hand the number of times they had exchanged that symbolic gesture. The last time had been when they had found one another in the camps. Again, no real way to describe it to humans. It just meant a sense of kinship but with deep connection and understanding. Under most circumstances, Nosedive would have probably teased his brother for being overly sentimental but right now, he welcomed it.

"Vesu' Masa, herma"

'Share your burden with me, baby brother.' It was formal, as a lot of Wildwing's phrases had always been; it was Nosedive that embraced more slang but well, you would never use slang for that kind of phrase. No teasing, no poking fun. If someone asked you to share your burden, it was a serious matter.

"Maha, vesuk," He responded, with equal seriousness.

They said nothing else for a moment, just sat there, taking only the silence between them as the dedication. The promise towards one another. The reminder that they still had one another. They were not alone, despite how horrifically lonely and lost it felt right now. The loss of his parents…their parents…was a deep wound and there was no balm for it.

There was only the support of one another. Silent, unyielding. It was a quiet moment, to just relish in the presence of one another. Too many humans thought you had to have words for everything but not for Ducainians. Wildwing and Nosedive were imprinted onto one another. They could be together and feel the pain and comfort from one another through that bond without so much as opening their eyes. That was their saving grace right now. Even with the pain of loss staining them, the strength of their bond with one another rang solid as permafreeze. A simple sense of 'It hurts and I cannot make it stop but I am here. Lean on me.'

So, Nosedive laid his forehead on Wildwing's shoulder and they leaned on one another. The pulsing of the connection finally made all the confusion, all the endless emotions fall into order, made them stop blurring his vision. Made them stop dictating his thoughts. If there was ever a lifeline, that bond with his brother was one and he clung to it.

After a time, with the coolness of the coming twilight serving as an appropriate trigger to pull them from their memorial. Wildwing stood upright again, "I can attach your cycle to mine. You'll be asking for a wreck if you try to drive with that ankle."

Nosedive eyed him, "I never finished."

"Huh?"

"The Heaarl. My ankle gave out on the axel. You know you have to end a Heaarl with the lap around the lake. I never did that."

Wildwing stood there, hand on the cycle a moment then sighed. He took off his gloves, put them on the seat and approached, lifting his brother under the shoulders again. "Can you hold on your other ankle?"

Nosedive tested it against the ice. He wouldn't be doing any fancy tricks but it would hold. "Long as I'm not trying anything fancy."

"I don't think we need fancy." Wildwing wrapped his arm around his brother's waist, almost ironing them together. Nosedive kept his bad ankle off the ice, locking his good skate, using his brother as leverage.

Locking eyes with his brother, Nosedive spoke out, "Mal'sa…"

Wildwing chimed in, "Hen'sa,"

Together the brothers looked upward, "We offer this unto you. May it find you among the stars."

Then, Wildwing was moving, with Nosedive clinging to him and just letting himself glide along with him across the width of the lake. It was awkward, uncomfortable and Dive knew that being unable to go at his top speed was infuriating for Wildwing but when they finished that circle, he felt at ease.

Not content, not without pain but centered. Grounded. Not lost. Not drifting. Anchored.

"Should we go home now?"

Home…

Leaning on his brother, Nosedive nodded. "Yeah. Let's go home."

OOO

DUCAINIAN WORDS:

serui'—Adjective that means something that will curse the soul if touched

jellic—term for a criminal that steals unhatched eggs/child-stealer; colloquial term for someone with no scruples.

Flis'kka—disgusting, rotting (equivalent of the curse form of 'fuck/fucking')

quar'kaka—Literally, broken beak. Slang for damned/cursed/useless depending on context

liiiga-is

kuq-nak—predator-friend, slang for ass/bastard or similar

Nosedive's insult to Phil-Flis'kka Phil quar'kaka liiiga kuq-nak would roughly translate as "Phil you are a disgusting, damned bastard with no morals. Your presence is a curse."

Flocth Jubilee—Wedding Anniversary

Maha: Older Brother (Affectionate); Maha really doesn't have a good English equivalent. If there was a version of "Daddy" for brothers, it would be Maha

Masa: Younger Brother (Affectionate); generally implies someone that you will protect/guard

Mal'sa: Father

Hen'sa: Mother