Disclaimer: The Mighty Ducks & Co are property of Disney and used without
permission. Kayleigh Beall is my property.
Note: This story is not a part of my fandom and anything in italics is a
flashback. Also, this fic has some gory scenes so I've rated it PG, just to
be on the safe side. If you're sensitive and/or a fan of Nosedive or
Wildwing, I suggest you give this story a miss. If you do read it, don't
say I didn't warn ya.
Turn back the clock
"Have a good time, 'Dive," Kayleigh called as the young, blonde Duck ran out of the door to where Thrash and Mookie were waiting for him. The three were going out clubbing for the evening and Nosedive wanted to be gone before his brother changed his mind about letting him go out when they had a game the next day. "And be careful!" Wildwing yelled, but he should have saved his breath. Nosedive was already out of ear-shot. "He'll be fine," Kayleigh said, "He's just a guy going out to have fun." "So was that Irish kid who got hit in the head with a bottle in Rhodes and was killed. And he was 'Dive's age," replied Wildwing, worry starting to creep into his voice. Kayleigh put a reassuring hand on his arm. "That Irish kid was drunk. 'Dive knows better than that. Anyway, this is a club in Anaheim, not a booze-filled resort on some holiday island somewhere. You watch the news too much, that's your problem, 'Wing," she said with a smile. "Besides," she added, "what's the worse that could happen?"
"What ya drinking?" Thrash asked, having to yell to make himself heard over the sound of The Darkness' 'I Believe in a Thing Called Love' being belted out at top volume over the club's sound system. "Just a Coke. I got a game tomorrow," 'Dive yelled back and leant against the bar, surveying the crowd, as Thrash ordered the drinks. Mookie was dancing like a maniac, already drunk, and surrounded by a crowd of men. I'd better keep an eye on her, Nosedive thought. You never know what could happen in a place like this. "Oh man, I'm starting to sound like my brother," he said aloud. "What?" Thrash yelled, passing him his drink. "Nothing. Doesn't matter," Nosedive replied, taking a sip of the Coke and then putting it down on the bar. "Say that again," yelled Thrash, cupping a hand around his ear, "I didn't hear ya." Nosedive put his beak up to Thrash's ear and yelled as loud as he could, "I said it doesn't matter." Unbeknown to them, as this conversation was occurring, a hand snaked over from nearby and slipped a pill into Nosedive's drink. It fizzed a little then quickly dissolved. "Oh," Thrash yelled. Mookie left the dancefloor and walked in their direction, swaying slightly. "Come and dance, you two," she shouted, giggling from the drink and tugging on Thrash's arm. Nosedive took a long gulp of his Coke and then left it on the bar as he went to join the others. As soon as he began to dance, he felt a wave of nausea and had to stop. "What's wrong?" Mookie shouted. "I feel sick. Somebody musta spiked my drink," Nosedive shouted back, clutching his stomach. "What? I can't hear ya," yelled Mookie. "I said-" 'Dive began, but bit back his words as he felt bile rising in his throat. He ran for the toilets and just managed to get the door of the cubicle shut before he was violently sick down the pan. His muscles gave way and he fell to the ground, banging his head hard on the toilet on the way down. But the pain barely registered in his mind. All he was aware of was his limbs becoming strangely light before the blackness took him.
As Nosedive regained consciousness, the first thing that he became aware of was the fact that he was, quite serenely, floating about two metres above his body. He quickly realised that the combination of the spiked drink and the bang on the head had made him astral-project! He'd heard Kayleigh mention astral travel before, but he's dismissed it as a load of nonsense. Now he realised that he could do anything, because no one could see him! He was completely free! "I wonder if I can see a possible future," he said aloud, his voice echoing strangely. Suddenly, the room began to spin and Nosedive clamped his eyes tightly shut.
When he opened them again, he saw that he was sitting between Kayleigh and Wildwing, in a building that he had never seen before. The whole team was there and none of them were speaking. They'd clearly all been crying. Wildwing wasn't wearing the Mask and the feathers on his cheeks were soaked with tears. Nosedive could see dark circles under his brother's eyes. It was obvious that he hadn't slept properly in days. "What's the matter?" 'Dive said, and then remembered that the others couldn't see him. Then he saw the coffin, a dark box of polished oak with a white satin lining. It was clearly of very high quality. Whoever was in it was being sent off in style. "What are you guys doing at a wake?" Nosedive asked himself aloud, "No one we know has died." Kayleigh got to her feet and walked towards the coffin. Filled with a morbid curiosity to know who was in it, Nosedive followed her. He looked in, and clamped his hands over his beak to suppress a scream of terror.
It was him lying there in the coffin, dressed in sweatpants and his hockey jersey, the blue tinge that was barely visible under his feathers being the only thing that betrayed his lifelessness. If it weren't for the tinge, it would seem like he was just sleeping. His eyes were closed and his face was peaceful, the very opposite to how his spirit form was feeling. "What the hell happened?!" he yelled, even though he knew there would be no answer, "All I did was bang my head! It musta been what they put in the drink." Kayleigh gazed down at him. Her hand reached into the coffin and traced the 33 on the arm of his jersey. "No one else will ever wear that number," she said, her voice as lifeless as the body before her. She brushed a lock of hair off his face and smiled faintly. "The lady at the morgue did a good job on you," she commented to his body, as lightly as if she were making a remark about the weather. "Lady? You mean a woman saw me naked?" he exclaimed, blushing fiercely. He didn't know whether to be horrified or pleased. Kayleigh gently lifted up his jersey and Nosedive saw several red gashes across his stomach. "So it wasn't the drink. I was stabbed," he said, trying to force this to sink in, "I don't remember being stabbed. All I remember is throwing up and passing out." Kayleigh traced the gashes with her hand for a moment, and then pulled the jersey back down again. "You don't know who he was, do you?" she continued, her voice taking on the lifeless tone again, "The police say he got you from behind, that you never saw his face. He was an illegal immigrant, doped up on crack. He'd come up from Mexico to get more money for drugs. He saw the notes in your back pocket and knifed you for them. 26 stab wounds. Any one of them would have killed you, but he gave you 26. I'll remember that number on my deathbed. We all will." She paused and looked back at the others. Wildwing was crying. Tanya was trying to comfort him by hugging him but tears coursed down her cheeks as well. Kayleigh turned back to Nosedive's body and went on, "They found him, charged him with murder. He pleaded guilty. A good thing too. 'Wing couldn't have stood being a witness. He was the one that found you. Neither could Duke. He tried to revive you, you know. But it was too late. You'd bled to death. You were out there all night. I don't think it was hurting anymore when you died. That's why you look so peaceful, I think." The room blurred and a flashback began.
[I] "Nosedive, where are you?!" Kayleigh yelled, "Are you hurt? Say something!" The team had been searching all night and all day, ever since Nosedive had missed curfew and the newsflash had come on about a drug- addicted, dangerous illegal immigrant in the mall area. They'd forfeited the game, something that Wildwing had vowed once before that they would never do again. All that Wildwing could say all day was, "Something's wrong. He's my baby bro and I know something's happened to him! He'd never do this to me!" Kayleigh and Duke were about to move onto a different area, when they heard screaming. Desperate screaming, helpless screaming, the screams of a man who had just had his whole world destroyed. They ran into a nearby alleyway and saw Wildwing, kneeling on the ground with his arms under his brother's body, just screaming and screaming. The whole width of the alleyway was covered in a huge puddle of dried blood. Eight pints worth of it. Kayleigh raced to Wildwing and pulled him away from his brother so that Duke could try to revive him, reaching into the first-aid bag that she was carrying over her shoulder to search for a sedative. By the time, she had retrieved the needle and filled it, Wildwing had stopped screaming and was started to shake violently. "He's going into shock!" Kayleigh yelled to Duke but he wasn't listening. He was throwing his entire weight against his hands as he pushed again and again against Nosedive's chest, struggling against hope to restart his heart. He bent down to give the young Duck the kiss of life, without even acknowledging Kayleigh's words. Kayleigh pulled the Mask from Wildwing's face and slapped him hard. He came out of the shock long enough to cry out in pain as she jabbed the needle into his arm, before the sedative took away his consciousness. The others raced into the alleyway, alerted by the screams, and froze at the sight that met their eyes. Despite countless beatings during the first few years that he spent in the Brotherhood of the Blade that taught him to regard tears as the greatest weakness that any man could possess, Duke was sobbing helplessly. His left hand was against the right-hand side of Nosedive's face, two fingers pressing into his neck, just below his jawbone, searching in vain for a pulse that was never again to be found there. "He's dead," he said. [/I]
The flashback ended and Nosedive tried to take in what he had just seen. He hadn't died in the nightclub. He'd died on the way home. He'd been stabbed, murdered, and just for the money in his back pocket. For no good reason at all. His brother's worse ever nightmare had come true that night. "I didn't even get to say goodbye to him," Nosedive whispered to himself, his voice hoarse with unshed tears. Kayleigh began to speak again, "He got the death penalty. They gave him the injection yesterday. They should still have burning at the stake for people like him. We were all there. It helped to see justice done, but it didn't bring you back." Tears began to trickle down her cheeks but she continued speaking, "You know what the awful thing was, 'Dive? When the police interviewed him, it turned out that he didn't even know who you were. It wouldn't have made things any easier if your murderer was a friend, but still...he never knew you. He didn't know how special you were. He didn't know that you could make people happy just by being there, that you could light up a whole room with your smile. He didn't know what a little imp you were on the ice," she said, with a faint laugh at the last part. She paused again, and then continued, "The team's retired, you know. The others tried practicing without you, but it just wasn't the same. I thought Wildwing was gonna hit Phil when he suggested hiring a replacement. As if anyone could replace you." Tears were pouring down her cheeks by now, but she hadn't finished. "Do you remember us talking, just before you went out? I was having a joke with you, asking if you were gonna be on the pull. You said that you weren't that type of guy. You said you wouldn't have minded meeting a girl, but you weren't gonna have a one-night stand or anything like that. You told me a secret, remember?" Her voice dropped to a whisper, as if keeping the secret was still important. "You said that what you really wanted was your first kiss. Not a full-on snog or anything like that, just for some girl to just kiss you on the cheek, even if she was drunk. Well, I'm not drunk and even now, I'd never have wanted to be anything more than just good friends with you, but here," she said, and while the others weren't looking, she leant into the coffin and kissed Nosedive on the cheek. She stood up straight and spoke again, her voice thick with tears, "Your first kiss. I just wish that you'd lived to see it," she said, still in a whisper, her body racked by a sob. Her voice then rose to normal volume again and she continued getting more and more emotional with every sentence she spoke, "If only you'd taken another way home, Nosedive. If only you hadn't walked down that alleyway behind Captain Comics on your way home. If only you'd taken a taxi instead. If only I could turn back the clock and tell you all of this so you could hear me!" she cried and fell, weeping, onto his body. Nosedive looked away, embarrassed by her grief, and spotted Wildwing slipping out through the back door. "Where's he going?" he asked aloud, and followed him.
He found his brother kneeling on the grass of the cemetery outside. The building he had been in was a chapel, Nosedive realised. He saw Wildwing draw an object out of his pocket, wrapped in blood-stained tissue paper. He unwrapped the object and Nosedive saw that it was a cut-throat razor, the blade covered with dried blood. With a jolt of terror, he realised that it was the same razor that Wildwing had used 11 years beforehand, to slit his wrists when he'd been bullied. He'd never seen the weapon that did it before, but he knew instinctively that this was it. He would never forget what had happened. The nightmares still haunted him, even then.
[I] "'Wing! Wing, I'm home!" the 6 year old Duck yelled as he entered the house, dropping his schoolbag on the floor by the door and racing up the stairs two at a time, quite a feat for his small legs to manage. He pushed open the door to the tiny room that he and Wildwing shared and saw his brother lying face-down on the bed, seemingly asleep. "Hey bro, I made a new friend today," Nosedive announced, but Wildwing didn't stir. "'Wing, wake up. I'm talking to you," 'Dive said, going over to his brother and shaking him. He didn't move, so Nosedive rolled him over to tickle him. That'll wake him up, he thought. And then he saw the blood. The sheets were stained right through to the mattress and the blood still pumped from Wildwing's torn wrists. Nosedive screamed twice. The first scream was from shock, and the second was from the terror he felt as his young mind struggled to comprehend the fact that for the first time in his entire life, he was completely and utterly alone. [/I]
Wildwing pulled back his sleeves and Nosedive saw the scars from that event, raised ridges against the white feathers. Wildwing spoke, "Wherever you are, 'Dive, I'm sorry. I can't take it anymore. You were my reason for living, and now you're gone. I know the others need me, but I need you more. I just want to be with you again. The rest of the team won't find me. None of them saw me leave. You're not here to save me this time, and they won't save me either. I love you, baby bro. I'm sorry." And he placed the razor's blade against the scar on his left wrist. The realisation of what his brother was about to do exploded in Nosedive's mind and he screamed out, "Take me back to my body! I can't stand it!" And the image vanished.
"'Dive? 'Dive, wake up, man! You're scaring me!" Thrash yelled just as Nosedive came around. 'Dive turned his head and vomited again, this time from the shock of re-entering his body so fast. Thrash pulled him to his feet. "Is he okay?" called Mookie, her head peeking around the doorway of the toilets. "I'm fine, Mookie," Nosedive replied, "I was just sick, that's all." He then said to Thrash, "I think I'd better go home. I still don't feel so good. I had a really whacked out dream but I can't remember what it was." "I think you'd better, dude. You look awful," Thrash said. Nosedive walked to the front entrance of the nightclub and was about to walk out of the door when, with a jolt of shock, he remembered his out-of-body experience. If I walk home I'll die, he thought. I have the chance to save myself and I'm gonna take it! He spun around quickly and spotted what he was looking for; a payphone. Fishing out some loose change from his back pocket, he entered it into the phone and rang for a cab.
The minute Nosedive got back into the Ready Room, Wildwing flung his arms around him and hugged him so tight that he thought his ribs would break. "'Wing, that hurts!" 'Dive yelled and his brother let go. "What's the matter?" he asked, seeing the worry on everyone's faces. No one spoke. Suddenly, he realised that a news report was playing on Drake 1's screen. "I repeat," the female reporter said, in a calm and reasonable voice, "people in the mall area of Anaheim are being warned to stay inside any open building that contains other people, as there is a drug-addicted illegal immigrant loose in the area. He is believed to be armed and dangerous." "He's in the alleyway behind Captain Comics," Nosedive blurted out suddenly. "How do you know, 'Dive?" exclaimed Wildwing, "Have you seen him?" "Well, not really," he said, and then everything came rushing out. He told them about having his drink spiked, about being sick and fainting, about leaving his body, about what he saw and about what Kayleigh had said, barely taking a breath between sentences. "And then I saw 'Wing go outside and he took out this cut-throat razor and he was gonna...he was gonna..." But he couldn't finish what he was saying. All the emotions of the evening came rushing out, like a dam breaking, and he burst into tears. Wildwing held him close and he cried against his brother's chest, clinging to him like he did so often as a frightened child. "I thought I was so grown up but I'm not, 'Wing," he sobbed, "I'm not that grown up after all. I still need you." "You're right about one thing, 'Dive," Wildwing replied, "You're not grown up yet but even when you are, I'd still expect you to need me from time to time. Oh 'Dive, don't cry. Please don't cry, baby bro." "I..." Nosedive didn't really want to say the words in front of the others; he was still a rebellious teen after all, despite all that had happened, and they seemed too personal to be said in public. But he had learnt something from the experience. He had learnt that you can't rely on being there to say something tomorrow, or having the person that you want to say it to there with you. He could say the words today, and he would. "I love you, big bro," he said, in a barely audible whisper, but he knew that 'Wing had heard and that he understood. "I'd better ring Kleghorn," said Duke, "He needs to know where that illegal immigrant is." "Looks like you've got a guardian angel watching out for you, 'Dive," Kayleigh said, "That vision was no accident. Someone wanted you to know loud and clear that it's not your time yet. You should thank them, you know."
An hour later, Kleghorn rang back to say that the man had been arrested without anyone getting hurt. Once they had heard the news, the team went their separate ways to bed. Wildwing walked with his brother right to 'Dive's bedroom door. "I love you too," he said, just as 'Dive walked into his room. 'Dive turned around again. "I know," he said, and smiled. As he lay in bed half an hour later, trying to sleep, he thought about what Kayleigh had said about him having a guardian angel watching out for him. He'd always thought beforehand that her Spiritualist talk was crazy, but now he wasn't so sure. Maybe she was right. Oh, what the heck, he thought, it can't hurt. "Thanks," he said, into the night, "Thanks for saving my life." And then he rolled over and fell asleep.
The End.
Turn back the clock
"Have a good time, 'Dive," Kayleigh called as the young, blonde Duck ran out of the door to where Thrash and Mookie were waiting for him. The three were going out clubbing for the evening and Nosedive wanted to be gone before his brother changed his mind about letting him go out when they had a game the next day. "And be careful!" Wildwing yelled, but he should have saved his breath. Nosedive was already out of ear-shot. "He'll be fine," Kayleigh said, "He's just a guy going out to have fun." "So was that Irish kid who got hit in the head with a bottle in Rhodes and was killed. And he was 'Dive's age," replied Wildwing, worry starting to creep into his voice. Kayleigh put a reassuring hand on his arm. "That Irish kid was drunk. 'Dive knows better than that. Anyway, this is a club in Anaheim, not a booze-filled resort on some holiday island somewhere. You watch the news too much, that's your problem, 'Wing," she said with a smile. "Besides," she added, "what's the worse that could happen?"
"What ya drinking?" Thrash asked, having to yell to make himself heard over the sound of The Darkness' 'I Believe in a Thing Called Love' being belted out at top volume over the club's sound system. "Just a Coke. I got a game tomorrow," 'Dive yelled back and leant against the bar, surveying the crowd, as Thrash ordered the drinks. Mookie was dancing like a maniac, already drunk, and surrounded by a crowd of men. I'd better keep an eye on her, Nosedive thought. You never know what could happen in a place like this. "Oh man, I'm starting to sound like my brother," he said aloud. "What?" Thrash yelled, passing him his drink. "Nothing. Doesn't matter," Nosedive replied, taking a sip of the Coke and then putting it down on the bar. "Say that again," yelled Thrash, cupping a hand around his ear, "I didn't hear ya." Nosedive put his beak up to Thrash's ear and yelled as loud as he could, "I said it doesn't matter." Unbeknown to them, as this conversation was occurring, a hand snaked over from nearby and slipped a pill into Nosedive's drink. It fizzed a little then quickly dissolved. "Oh," Thrash yelled. Mookie left the dancefloor and walked in their direction, swaying slightly. "Come and dance, you two," she shouted, giggling from the drink and tugging on Thrash's arm. Nosedive took a long gulp of his Coke and then left it on the bar as he went to join the others. As soon as he began to dance, he felt a wave of nausea and had to stop. "What's wrong?" Mookie shouted. "I feel sick. Somebody musta spiked my drink," Nosedive shouted back, clutching his stomach. "What? I can't hear ya," yelled Mookie. "I said-" 'Dive began, but bit back his words as he felt bile rising in his throat. He ran for the toilets and just managed to get the door of the cubicle shut before he was violently sick down the pan. His muscles gave way and he fell to the ground, banging his head hard on the toilet on the way down. But the pain barely registered in his mind. All he was aware of was his limbs becoming strangely light before the blackness took him.
As Nosedive regained consciousness, the first thing that he became aware of was the fact that he was, quite serenely, floating about two metres above his body. He quickly realised that the combination of the spiked drink and the bang on the head had made him astral-project! He'd heard Kayleigh mention astral travel before, but he's dismissed it as a load of nonsense. Now he realised that he could do anything, because no one could see him! He was completely free! "I wonder if I can see a possible future," he said aloud, his voice echoing strangely. Suddenly, the room began to spin and Nosedive clamped his eyes tightly shut.
When he opened them again, he saw that he was sitting between Kayleigh and Wildwing, in a building that he had never seen before. The whole team was there and none of them were speaking. They'd clearly all been crying. Wildwing wasn't wearing the Mask and the feathers on his cheeks were soaked with tears. Nosedive could see dark circles under his brother's eyes. It was obvious that he hadn't slept properly in days. "What's the matter?" 'Dive said, and then remembered that the others couldn't see him. Then he saw the coffin, a dark box of polished oak with a white satin lining. It was clearly of very high quality. Whoever was in it was being sent off in style. "What are you guys doing at a wake?" Nosedive asked himself aloud, "No one we know has died." Kayleigh got to her feet and walked towards the coffin. Filled with a morbid curiosity to know who was in it, Nosedive followed her. He looked in, and clamped his hands over his beak to suppress a scream of terror.
It was him lying there in the coffin, dressed in sweatpants and his hockey jersey, the blue tinge that was barely visible under his feathers being the only thing that betrayed his lifelessness. If it weren't for the tinge, it would seem like he was just sleeping. His eyes were closed and his face was peaceful, the very opposite to how his spirit form was feeling. "What the hell happened?!" he yelled, even though he knew there would be no answer, "All I did was bang my head! It musta been what they put in the drink." Kayleigh gazed down at him. Her hand reached into the coffin and traced the 33 on the arm of his jersey. "No one else will ever wear that number," she said, her voice as lifeless as the body before her. She brushed a lock of hair off his face and smiled faintly. "The lady at the morgue did a good job on you," she commented to his body, as lightly as if she were making a remark about the weather. "Lady? You mean a woman saw me naked?" he exclaimed, blushing fiercely. He didn't know whether to be horrified or pleased. Kayleigh gently lifted up his jersey and Nosedive saw several red gashes across his stomach. "So it wasn't the drink. I was stabbed," he said, trying to force this to sink in, "I don't remember being stabbed. All I remember is throwing up and passing out." Kayleigh traced the gashes with her hand for a moment, and then pulled the jersey back down again. "You don't know who he was, do you?" she continued, her voice taking on the lifeless tone again, "The police say he got you from behind, that you never saw his face. He was an illegal immigrant, doped up on crack. He'd come up from Mexico to get more money for drugs. He saw the notes in your back pocket and knifed you for them. 26 stab wounds. Any one of them would have killed you, but he gave you 26. I'll remember that number on my deathbed. We all will." She paused and looked back at the others. Wildwing was crying. Tanya was trying to comfort him by hugging him but tears coursed down her cheeks as well. Kayleigh turned back to Nosedive's body and went on, "They found him, charged him with murder. He pleaded guilty. A good thing too. 'Wing couldn't have stood being a witness. He was the one that found you. Neither could Duke. He tried to revive you, you know. But it was too late. You'd bled to death. You were out there all night. I don't think it was hurting anymore when you died. That's why you look so peaceful, I think." The room blurred and a flashback began.
[I] "Nosedive, where are you?!" Kayleigh yelled, "Are you hurt? Say something!" The team had been searching all night and all day, ever since Nosedive had missed curfew and the newsflash had come on about a drug- addicted, dangerous illegal immigrant in the mall area. They'd forfeited the game, something that Wildwing had vowed once before that they would never do again. All that Wildwing could say all day was, "Something's wrong. He's my baby bro and I know something's happened to him! He'd never do this to me!" Kayleigh and Duke were about to move onto a different area, when they heard screaming. Desperate screaming, helpless screaming, the screams of a man who had just had his whole world destroyed. They ran into a nearby alleyway and saw Wildwing, kneeling on the ground with his arms under his brother's body, just screaming and screaming. The whole width of the alleyway was covered in a huge puddle of dried blood. Eight pints worth of it. Kayleigh raced to Wildwing and pulled him away from his brother so that Duke could try to revive him, reaching into the first-aid bag that she was carrying over her shoulder to search for a sedative. By the time, she had retrieved the needle and filled it, Wildwing had stopped screaming and was started to shake violently. "He's going into shock!" Kayleigh yelled to Duke but he wasn't listening. He was throwing his entire weight against his hands as he pushed again and again against Nosedive's chest, struggling against hope to restart his heart. He bent down to give the young Duck the kiss of life, without even acknowledging Kayleigh's words. Kayleigh pulled the Mask from Wildwing's face and slapped him hard. He came out of the shock long enough to cry out in pain as she jabbed the needle into his arm, before the sedative took away his consciousness. The others raced into the alleyway, alerted by the screams, and froze at the sight that met their eyes. Despite countless beatings during the first few years that he spent in the Brotherhood of the Blade that taught him to regard tears as the greatest weakness that any man could possess, Duke was sobbing helplessly. His left hand was against the right-hand side of Nosedive's face, two fingers pressing into his neck, just below his jawbone, searching in vain for a pulse that was never again to be found there. "He's dead," he said. [/I]
The flashback ended and Nosedive tried to take in what he had just seen. He hadn't died in the nightclub. He'd died on the way home. He'd been stabbed, murdered, and just for the money in his back pocket. For no good reason at all. His brother's worse ever nightmare had come true that night. "I didn't even get to say goodbye to him," Nosedive whispered to himself, his voice hoarse with unshed tears. Kayleigh began to speak again, "He got the death penalty. They gave him the injection yesterday. They should still have burning at the stake for people like him. We were all there. It helped to see justice done, but it didn't bring you back." Tears began to trickle down her cheeks but she continued speaking, "You know what the awful thing was, 'Dive? When the police interviewed him, it turned out that he didn't even know who you were. It wouldn't have made things any easier if your murderer was a friend, but still...he never knew you. He didn't know how special you were. He didn't know that you could make people happy just by being there, that you could light up a whole room with your smile. He didn't know what a little imp you were on the ice," she said, with a faint laugh at the last part. She paused again, and then continued, "The team's retired, you know. The others tried practicing without you, but it just wasn't the same. I thought Wildwing was gonna hit Phil when he suggested hiring a replacement. As if anyone could replace you." Tears were pouring down her cheeks by now, but she hadn't finished. "Do you remember us talking, just before you went out? I was having a joke with you, asking if you were gonna be on the pull. You said that you weren't that type of guy. You said you wouldn't have minded meeting a girl, but you weren't gonna have a one-night stand or anything like that. You told me a secret, remember?" Her voice dropped to a whisper, as if keeping the secret was still important. "You said that what you really wanted was your first kiss. Not a full-on snog or anything like that, just for some girl to just kiss you on the cheek, even if she was drunk. Well, I'm not drunk and even now, I'd never have wanted to be anything more than just good friends with you, but here," she said, and while the others weren't looking, she leant into the coffin and kissed Nosedive on the cheek. She stood up straight and spoke again, her voice thick with tears, "Your first kiss. I just wish that you'd lived to see it," she said, still in a whisper, her body racked by a sob. Her voice then rose to normal volume again and she continued getting more and more emotional with every sentence she spoke, "If only you'd taken another way home, Nosedive. If only you hadn't walked down that alleyway behind Captain Comics on your way home. If only you'd taken a taxi instead. If only I could turn back the clock and tell you all of this so you could hear me!" she cried and fell, weeping, onto his body. Nosedive looked away, embarrassed by her grief, and spotted Wildwing slipping out through the back door. "Where's he going?" he asked aloud, and followed him.
He found his brother kneeling on the grass of the cemetery outside. The building he had been in was a chapel, Nosedive realised. He saw Wildwing draw an object out of his pocket, wrapped in blood-stained tissue paper. He unwrapped the object and Nosedive saw that it was a cut-throat razor, the blade covered with dried blood. With a jolt of terror, he realised that it was the same razor that Wildwing had used 11 years beforehand, to slit his wrists when he'd been bullied. He'd never seen the weapon that did it before, but he knew instinctively that this was it. He would never forget what had happened. The nightmares still haunted him, even then.
[I] "'Wing! Wing, I'm home!" the 6 year old Duck yelled as he entered the house, dropping his schoolbag on the floor by the door and racing up the stairs two at a time, quite a feat for his small legs to manage. He pushed open the door to the tiny room that he and Wildwing shared and saw his brother lying face-down on the bed, seemingly asleep. "Hey bro, I made a new friend today," Nosedive announced, but Wildwing didn't stir. "'Wing, wake up. I'm talking to you," 'Dive said, going over to his brother and shaking him. He didn't move, so Nosedive rolled him over to tickle him. That'll wake him up, he thought. And then he saw the blood. The sheets were stained right through to the mattress and the blood still pumped from Wildwing's torn wrists. Nosedive screamed twice. The first scream was from shock, and the second was from the terror he felt as his young mind struggled to comprehend the fact that for the first time in his entire life, he was completely and utterly alone. [/I]
Wildwing pulled back his sleeves and Nosedive saw the scars from that event, raised ridges against the white feathers. Wildwing spoke, "Wherever you are, 'Dive, I'm sorry. I can't take it anymore. You were my reason for living, and now you're gone. I know the others need me, but I need you more. I just want to be with you again. The rest of the team won't find me. None of them saw me leave. You're not here to save me this time, and they won't save me either. I love you, baby bro. I'm sorry." And he placed the razor's blade against the scar on his left wrist. The realisation of what his brother was about to do exploded in Nosedive's mind and he screamed out, "Take me back to my body! I can't stand it!" And the image vanished.
"'Dive? 'Dive, wake up, man! You're scaring me!" Thrash yelled just as Nosedive came around. 'Dive turned his head and vomited again, this time from the shock of re-entering his body so fast. Thrash pulled him to his feet. "Is he okay?" called Mookie, her head peeking around the doorway of the toilets. "I'm fine, Mookie," Nosedive replied, "I was just sick, that's all." He then said to Thrash, "I think I'd better go home. I still don't feel so good. I had a really whacked out dream but I can't remember what it was." "I think you'd better, dude. You look awful," Thrash said. Nosedive walked to the front entrance of the nightclub and was about to walk out of the door when, with a jolt of shock, he remembered his out-of-body experience. If I walk home I'll die, he thought. I have the chance to save myself and I'm gonna take it! He spun around quickly and spotted what he was looking for; a payphone. Fishing out some loose change from his back pocket, he entered it into the phone and rang for a cab.
The minute Nosedive got back into the Ready Room, Wildwing flung his arms around him and hugged him so tight that he thought his ribs would break. "'Wing, that hurts!" 'Dive yelled and his brother let go. "What's the matter?" he asked, seeing the worry on everyone's faces. No one spoke. Suddenly, he realised that a news report was playing on Drake 1's screen. "I repeat," the female reporter said, in a calm and reasonable voice, "people in the mall area of Anaheim are being warned to stay inside any open building that contains other people, as there is a drug-addicted illegal immigrant loose in the area. He is believed to be armed and dangerous." "He's in the alleyway behind Captain Comics," Nosedive blurted out suddenly. "How do you know, 'Dive?" exclaimed Wildwing, "Have you seen him?" "Well, not really," he said, and then everything came rushing out. He told them about having his drink spiked, about being sick and fainting, about leaving his body, about what he saw and about what Kayleigh had said, barely taking a breath between sentences. "And then I saw 'Wing go outside and he took out this cut-throat razor and he was gonna...he was gonna..." But he couldn't finish what he was saying. All the emotions of the evening came rushing out, like a dam breaking, and he burst into tears. Wildwing held him close and he cried against his brother's chest, clinging to him like he did so often as a frightened child. "I thought I was so grown up but I'm not, 'Wing," he sobbed, "I'm not that grown up after all. I still need you." "You're right about one thing, 'Dive," Wildwing replied, "You're not grown up yet but even when you are, I'd still expect you to need me from time to time. Oh 'Dive, don't cry. Please don't cry, baby bro." "I..." Nosedive didn't really want to say the words in front of the others; he was still a rebellious teen after all, despite all that had happened, and they seemed too personal to be said in public. But he had learnt something from the experience. He had learnt that you can't rely on being there to say something tomorrow, or having the person that you want to say it to there with you. He could say the words today, and he would. "I love you, big bro," he said, in a barely audible whisper, but he knew that 'Wing had heard and that he understood. "I'd better ring Kleghorn," said Duke, "He needs to know where that illegal immigrant is." "Looks like you've got a guardian angel watching out for you, 'Dive," Kayleigh said, "That vision was no accident. Someone wanted you to know loud and clear that it's not your time yet. You should thank them, you know."
An hour later, Kleghorn rang back to say that the man had been arrested without anyone getting hurt. Once they had heard the news, the team went their separate ways to bed. Wildwing walked with his brother right to 'Dive's bedroom door. "I love you too," he said, just as 'Dive walked into his room. 'Dive turned around again. "I know," he said, and smiled. As he lay in bed half an hour later, trying to sleep, he thought about what Kayleigh had said about him having a guardian angel watching out for him. He'd always thought beforehand that her Spiritualist talk was crazy, but now he wasn't so sure. Maybe she was right. Oh, what the heck, he thought, it can't hurt. "Thanks," he said, into the night, "Thanks for saving my life." And then he rolled over and fell asleep.
The End.