Note: This chapter does make mention of the short story "Duke" from "Through Their Eyes", but it is not really a necessary read to get the gist of what's going on. Also, a final reminder that / / / leads you into a flashback, \ \ \ out of one, and line breaks are used for scene changes.

And a reiterated thank you to raphlover2012 and ThickerThanLove! Super appreciated. :)

There is something to be said about normalcy. You tire of it, forget about it, and sometimes even abandon it when it hangs around too long. But, every so often the world falls apart, and you wonder how you ever got by without it. It is a semblance of peace and the anchor to continuity, and you do everything in your power to return to it.

When it finally does, you think you won't take it for granted anymore; that you've learned your lesson. Eventually, the world continues on, as it always does, and the monotony settles in once more. With it, however, the inevitable daydreaming of change creeps into your thoughts, any and all negative consequences forgotten once again…

"Hey, you okay, Baby Bro?"

Nosedive quickly wiped at his eyes, smiling through the action and nodding vigorously. "Yeah, yeah, just uh … that was sorta my Academy Award moment there." The teenager's voice was raspy as he tried to instill some humor into the situation, and Wildwing in turn hugged him to his side again.

"I'm sorry for putting you through that."

Nosedive's minor sniffling turned into a breathy laugh against Wildwing's shoulder. "Bro, dude, are you seriously apologizing for nearly dying?"

"Well … yes."

"Drake DuCaine, we need to get off this planet so you can go home and become a normal duck again."

Wildwing huffed, but smiled through it. "It was easy for me. All I did was sleep."

This time both Grin and Nosedive stared at Wildwing incredulously. "You had to do like six weeks of physical therapy after you woke up," Nosedive reminded him.

"Piece of cake."

The teenager looked over to Grin for help. The pacifist shook his head, barely stopping himself before he actually tsked at the leader. "Without health, life is not life," he agreed instead, using a quote from his readings. When the two brothers stared at him blankly, Grin sighed and changed the subject with, "These memories are almost complete, my friends."

This caused their collective expressions to morph into confusion. Nosedive was first, however, when he asked, "What about when Wing finally woke up?"

"That was not one revolution ago."

The teenager arched an eyebrow. "T minus twelve days and that doesn't count? But, I mean, we didn't know Wing was gonna be okay until the end of that week."

Wildwing, listening intently, tilted his head as he thought about it. "I don't think that was the point of this, Dive."

"What was the point then?" Nosedive probed, leaning forward so his elbows could rest on his crossed legs. "I mean, bringing back all the bad memories without the good seems kinda masochistic to me." Remembering something from earlier, the teenager sat up and pointed at Grin. "And you said that we were honoring the 'fallen victims.' Technically, no one fell except Wing!"

Grin kept steady eye contact with the youngest team member, but did not respond.

Nosedive did his best to hold the larger duck's intense stare, but finally yielded with a sigh and a shrug. "I love ya Grinster, but you're an odd duck."

Wildwing smirked but did not respond, returning to his meditative stance and expectantly watching Grin.

The pacifist took a deep breath and closed his eyes, his two teammates following suit.

1 Revolution Ago

The rhythmic beeping was almost a lullaby now, a comforting sound in the wake of everything that had transpired. There had been no more alarms and no more issues with the Medicom, nor with the healing process. Wildwing himself was a statue again, the only indication of change coming from the slow rise and fall of his chest, nearly imperceptible with the blanket that had been placed over his torso.

Eventually, Duke had been left to perform his shift. Nosedive remained with him, returning to his stool next to Wildwing, albeit as a shell of his former self. When the teenager's breakdown had gradually subsided, he had become more or less a zombie, completely drained of all emotions and expressions. Tanya and Grin had both encouraged him to get some sleep, and even offered a cot to set up within the infirmary itself, but the young duck had refused.

According to him, he would not sleep until Wildwing woke up.

Technically it was morning time, but Tanya and Grin were still recovering from the battle, too. So the scientist opted to leave it be, telling Nosedive that she'd bring all of the team back into the medbay for lunch, and to go over Wildwing's long term recovery.

It was a polite way of blowing off the bigger issue until later, or until Nosedive simply passed out from exhaustion.

Either way, the young duck agreed, and both Grin and Tanya returned to their respective quarters for a few more hours of rest. Grin had debated waking Mallory with the change in Wildwing's status, as she had requested, but he ultimately decided against it. At this point she'd only gotten 5 hours of sleep or so, and the leader's overall health had not really changed, per se.

He knew she'd disagree when she found out, and would inevitably berate him for it, but those repercussions seemed acceptable enough to let the redhead rest for a few more hours.

Grin himself was exhausted, despite the sleep he'd gotten earlier. The stress of Wildwing's seizure and Nosedive's breakdown had zapped the pacifist of what little rest he had been able to obtain, it seemed.

His worry over both Flashblade brothers would make sleep hard to come by, however, so the pacifist chose to do a long meditation session instead. Done correctly, meditation could accomplish many of the same things sleep could, with the added bonus of putting the mind at ease.

He settled into a cross-legged position on the floor, a few crystals already strategically placed around his bedroom, and let his mind fall into oblivion.

/ / /

"CANARD!"

The name call was enraged and attracted multiple sets of eyes in the long hallway of North Metropolis High School. The duck in question, wearing his hockey jersey without padding, dramatically rolled his eyes and smirked at some fellow classmates standing next to him.

The yeller, Nosedive, stormed up to him, slamming Canard's locker shut so the two ducks could look at each other face-to-face. Nosedive was over a head shorter than Canard, but he had more than enough anger emanating from him to make the height difference negligible.

"What's up, Nosedive," Canard stated rather than asked, his voice dripping in phony ignorance.

"You know what's up, jerkweed!" the teenager growled out. "What gives, huh? So afraid that I'll actually make the team that you don't even give me a chance to?!"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Canard deadpanned, checking to make sure his locker was properly secured before adjusting his backpack on his shoulder and walking away.

Nosedive jogged a few paces ahead of him, going around and getting in front of the tan mallard to stop his progress. "They disqualified me from hockey, Canard, and not just for this year!" The blonde duck's hands were balled into fists at his sides, but one came up and pointed accusingly at him. "Just 'cause I'm a threat to you does not give you the right to smear my name through the mud!"

Canard, with his two friends still standing next to him and watching on, smacked Nosedive's pointing finger away. "Don't give yourself so much credit, short stack—I wasn't on the judging panel, so I didn't make the decision."

"You told them I refused to follow directions!"

"And you didn't," Canard agreed, trying once again to pass Nosedive.

The teenager blocked his advances by sidestepping. "One play, Canard! One. Play. I followed every damn rule after that!"

"Only because you whined to your brother and he made me put you in a winger position!" Canard yelled, shoving Nosedive out of the way. "Grow up and grow a pair, Dive."

Canard had walked past Nosedive at this point, but the teenager was far from done. He waltzed up behind the larger duck and shoved him in the back.

The older duck stumbled a step before angrily whipping around. "That's it, puck-face!"

"Bring it on, punk!"

The two ducks had already been pushing one another, but Canard threw a punch that Nosedive barely dodged. A circle had already started forming around them, chanting "Fight!" like an age-old mantra.

They got into an arm lock, both trying to outdo the other. Just when Canard grabbed one of Nosedive's wrists and pulled his own fist high into the air, readying to punch again, a barrel of white shoved itself between them, separating the two.

"ENOUGH!" Wildwing bellowed, stopping the fight and simultaneously dispersing the group of ducks that had taken interest in the event. He instantly spread his arms, both hands pressed against Nosedive and Canard's respective chests and keeping them at arm's length from each other.

Wildwing did not give either fighter time to respond. Grabbing handfuls of Nosedive's and Canard's shirts, the white drake roughly pulled them to a nearby door that led to an empty classroom. He wasted no time in pushing both mallards into the room, with each of them stumbling and cursing at the rough movements.

"What the hell is going on?!" Wildwing interrogated as Nosedive and Canard smoothed out their crinkled tops.

"Your pathetic brother—"

"—Whatever, Canard! You're the one that ruined—"

"—attacked me in the hallway—"

"—my chances, all because you've got some—"

"—because he thinks his crappy teamwork—"

"—freakish hatred of my existence!"

"—was somehow my fault!"

The two drakes were now looking at each other, neither backing down from trying to talk over the other.

"You're delusional—"

"It was your fault, you—"

"STOP. TALKING," Wildwing loudly demanded, shutting both of them up. Aside from heavy breathing, the room was silent. "Now," Wildwing said through gritted teeth, "Canard, can you tell me your side of the story please?"

Nosedive rolled his eyes and crossed his arms, but did not say anything more. Canard pointed accusingly at the younger duck, his adrenaline still obviously coursing through his veins. "Your brother decided to pick a fight with me, that's what happened."

"NO, I was—"

"AH!" Wildwing stopped Nosedive in his tracks, poignantly looking at his little brother to shut him back up. When he (begrudgingly) obeyed and kept silent, Wildwing nodded and returned his gaze to Canard. "And why do you think he did that?"

Canard, glaring at Nosedive, returned his attention to Wildwing. "He's mad because he didn't make the team and is blaming me."

This time Wildwing balked. "Wait, what?" He looked over to Nosedive. "Dive, there's like two more rounds of tryouts."

Nosedive was glaring right back at Canard. "Yeah, and I'm disqualified."

"What?" Wildwing exclaimed, looking back at Canard. "Why?!"

"Why are you looking at me? I'm not a part of the judging panel!"

Wildwing shook his head. "No, but you gave the first feedback from tryouts. Did they say why they disqualified him?"

For the first time that day, Canard looked slightly uncomfortable. "They didn't exactly like that stunt he pulled during the Wheel play."

"And you worded it so well, telling them I refuse to follow any directions unless it comes from my brother," Nosedive quipped sarcastically.

Wildwing hadn't broken eye contact with Canard, but his brow furrowed into a frown when the tan mallard did not respond. "Canard?" he finally prompted.

"What?"

"Is that what you said?" Wildwing asked, his voice oddly void of any emotion.

There was a long few seconds of silence before Canard simply said, "Yes."

Wildwing kept his voice carefully level. "Canard, why would you do that?"

"What, you mean tell the truth?"

"No, Canard, that's not the truth. That's taking one discretion and turning it into an act of war."

Canard was practically fumigating. "They asked me how he behaved during tryouts. I told them exactly as I saw it. He refused to play along until you forced me to put him in a winger position."

Wildwing took a long, deep breath. "I asked you to give everyone a chance at each position. I don't think that's an unfair request."

"As the captain I should be allowed to put players where they fit best. Dive worked better as defense."

"You can't honestly say that because you hadn't even given him a chance at offense!"

"My team, my decision. The problem, Wing, is that your brother failed to listen to me until you came in and called the shots! That's not teamwork!"

"That's bull!" Nosedive piped up. "I was following all the plays before then. I saw a chance to make a shot myself and I took it. It was one move, Canard!"

"And first impressions matter, Dive!" Canard outright yelled this time. "DuCaine, you two, listen to yourselves! Yes, Dive, I put you in a position you didn't want, but I did it to make you adapt. You're not always going to be the star player, and the sooner you learn that the better."

Nosedive looked ready to rebuff but Wildwing beat him to it. "No, Canard, I don't think that's what this is. I've seen you run dozens of tryouts and you've always switched up the positions." The white mallard shook his head, his voice barely holding its calm tone. "Ross, Gunner, and Shave flipped sides through all the moves before then."

The two older ducks stared each other down for a moment. Wildwing eventually continued with, "Whether or not you realize it, you were treating Dive different than the rest. And even if you were trying to prove a point, I don't think that was the way to go about it."

Canard's sour expression had eased as Wildwing spoke, but it did not last long as he looked back at Nosedive. "Sorry Wing, but I'm standing firm by what I did."

"I told you he had it out for me," Nosedive muttered, his arms crossed over himself. "So much for—"

"Fine," Wildwing replied neutrally to Canard, cutting his little brother off. "You're absolutely right in that it was your decision to do what you did. And it's obvious I can't change your mind on it.

"But I disagree with what you were trying to do. That's not promoting teamwork—that's demanding subservience."

"Oh come on, Wing—"

"—And I don't want to be a part of it."

"What?!" both Canard and Nosedive cried.

Wildwing lightly shrugged. "Find yourself another goalie for the year, Canard." He walked back towards the front of the classroom, the other two ducks seemingly frozen in shock.

Canard snapped out of his trance first. "Wing, it's your senior year! If you want a chance to play in University you have to be on the team this season."

For the first time in a while, Nosedive nodded his head in agreement with Canard. "Yeah, Bro, don't quit 'cause of this!"

Wildwing did not stop. He slammed his hand on the wall to open the hydraulic classroom door, the only sign of anger he had shown throughout the conversation. With a quick turn around the corner he had disappeared into the hall of students bustling to their next class.

"Happy now?" Canard grunted, flashing Nosedive a downright snarl before stomping out of the classroom, as well.

Nosedive, still in a state of shock, took a nearby seat at a desk, his hand coming up to rub his beak tiredly. "Ugh about sums up this day," he said to no one in particular.

\ \ \

"Come ta t'ink of it, not sure I ever seen Wing really ticked off," Duke thoughtfully commented, leaning against one of the numerous cabinets within the Pond's infirmary. "Not visibly, 'nyway."

Nosedive, sitting in the same stool he'd been in for nearly 19 hours now, halfheartedly nodded in agreement. "Doesn't happen often."

The teenager had heavy bags under his eyes (even visible through the feathers), greasy blonde hair, and was still in his battlegear from when they had infiltrated the Raptor. Aside from a couple trips to the nearby lavatory—which was few and far between with Nosedive's refusal to eat or drink—the young duck had done nothing but keep watch on his older brother.

The rest of the ducks had ventured into the infirmary, per Tanya's request, to eat lunch, discuss Wildwing's long term recovery, and discreetly stage an intervention to get Nosedive to take care of some basic survival and hygienic necessities.

Step one: eat lunch had been accomplished. Even Nosedive had finally taken to the sandwich and chips once Tanya assured him that Wildwing was also receiving his necessary nutrients via IV.

During the lull of chewing and crunching, Duke brought up the unfinished story, to both gauge the teenager's response and to simply pass the time.

Thankfully, Nosedive was receptive to finishing the tale, albeit with a lot less gusto than before.

"So, uh, how'd they make up?" Tanya inquired, finishing up her chips and sitting on one of the neighboring Medicoms' empty gurneys.

A hint of a smile crossed Nosedive's beak. "Well, I was brilliant about it, of course."

/ / /

"Canard," Nosedive said once again in the halls of North Metropolis High. This time, however, it was far less angry in tone and well after school, with the large hallway nearly deserted. Canard was alone at his locker, throwing his books into it more roughly than usual.

It had been a few days since the nuclear fallout, as Nosedive had mentally dubbed it. The next round of tryouts was this afternoon, which was most likely where the team captain was headed to next. Wildwing's quitting of the team had not been murmured by other students at all, which meant that both he and Canard had kept mum on their argument. The older drakes had been staying clear of the other, which in itself was unusual, but apparently they were acting civil enough to not arouse suspicion.

However, when Wildwing (inevitably) didn't show up for the next round of tryouts, Canard would have to spill the beans. And what a can of worms that would open...

As Nosedive approached the older drake, Canard sighed heavily and shut his locker, his gym bag slung on his shoulder. "What is it, now?" he icily asked.

"I tried to talk to Wing," Nosedive confessed.

"Right," Canard said and rolled his eyes, "and let me guess: you have to get on the team in order for Wing to come back." It was a statement and not a question, and dripped in contempt as Canard turned his back on the teenager to walk down the hallway.

Nosedive caught up and walked alongside of Canard. "Well, yes and no."

Canard shot him a wry glance.

The young duck sighed. "Look, Canard, I get that you and me are never gonna get along. And, well, that's a problem on a hockey team, right?"

The tan mallard didn't acknowledge Nosedive, but his silence was enough of a response to make the teenager continue.

"So let's compromise. I pucked up during tryouts and didn't play by the rules; fair deal. But I want a shot on the team next season."

The larger mallard slowed his determined pace and fully looked over at Nosedive. "You don't want on the team this season?" he finally asked, unable to mask the skepticism in his tone.

Nosedive shrugged. "Well, the answer to that is obviously yes, BUT, like I said, we're gonna always be down each other's throats, y'know? You and Wing graduate next year and will be outta my feathers for tryouts next season, when the slate is clean."

"And Wing will come back as goalie?"

"Er, well, yeah—"

"Dive."

"You gotta apologize," Nosedive blurted out and cringed afterwards. "To Wing, I mean," he added quickly at Canard's almost disgusted expression.

"Ain't happening." Canard started walking towards the gym again.

"Dude, why am I like the psychologist here?" Nosedive muttered, catching back up and walking alongside the team captain once again. "Canard, come on, you and Wing are like best buddies since before I was hatched. Just say sorry."

"Wing asking me to say sorry is pretty pathetic," Canard growled out, not even looking at the younger duck tagging along with him.

"That would be because he didn't ask," Nosedive admitted, earning another pause in Canard's determined pace. When the tan mallard arched an eyebrow, Nosedive elaborated with, "Look. I know my brother. Just telling him this won't be enough. But if you make the attempt to talk about it and say sorry and stuff, he bends. Trust me."

Canard was silent, and almost seemed to consider the request, before shaking his head and waving the younger duck off. "Ain't happening," he said again.

Nosedive did not follow. "Seriously, Canard? You can't possibly be that stubborn!"

"Try me," he replied, turning left at an open doorway and out of sight.

The blonde duck was left alone in the hallway, and his mid-exasperated shrug turned into a full-blown facepalm. "Puckworld will melt before that spoiled drake gives up his pride."

\ \ \

"So did you come up with that idea on your own?" Mallory facetiously asked, leaning against the same gurney that Tanya sat on.

"Don't sound so surprised, Mal-Mal," Nosedive bit back good-naturedly, causing Mallory to smirk. "I'm the first to admit that Wing can be a little, uh, overprotective." He earned multiple snorts for that comment before adding, "So yeah, he went a little extra with quitting. When I told him my idea he was set against it, saying I was the one sacrificing for no reason.

"But playing hockey as a freshman isn't a big deal in high school. You're usually the backups for the backups until you're a junior or senior, anyway."

"It didn't work though," Tanya commented.

"Well, actually, it did," Nosedive replied, the hint of a sly grin crossing his features.

/ / /

"Yo, Divester!"

Nosedive was skating along the border of a park, practicing slapshots into various improvised goals. One of his scoring zones happened to be the iron slots of a fence, and the sudden call made him miss his mark. The puck ricocheted of the metal bar, slapping into a nearby light pole and out into the street, where a motorcyclist honked and swerved to avoid it. Nosedive cringed and waved apologetically in their direction before turning back to the duck skating up to him.

"Hey Gunner, what's up?" he asked, not really itching for conversation.

Gunner, in his typical hyper fashion, did not notice or care about Nosedive's lack of enthusiasm. "Not much. Saw you on my way to my cousin's and thought I'd see how Wing was doing."

Nosedive arched a brow. "What do you mean?"

"During tryouts yesterday, Canard said that Wing had gotten sick. Said he wouldn't be coming."

No words, or thoughts for that matter, came to Nosedive. He stared through his yellow-feathered classmate like he had suddenly become invisible.

Gunner tilted his head, waiting for a response, and was completely oblivious to Nosedive's confusion.

When Nosedive's focus returned, he saw Gunner watching him curiously and coughed out, "Oh." After a long pause, he poorly lied, "Uh, he's getting better."

That got a beaming smile out of Gunner, who was apparently as sharp as a hockey puck. "Good, glad to hear it. Going to be at tryouts next week you think?"

Now that rumor had already been spread like wildfire. Nosedive scoffed and responded, "I got disqualified, dude, remember?"

"What? Nuh-uh, that was just some bogus talk," Gunner idly replied and waved him off.

"Gunner—"

"For real, blondie! You can't believe the grapevine if they don't tell ya it to yer face."

But they had. "But—"

"'sides, it came from the captain's mouth himself."

Wait, what? Canard had said that? At tryouts? Nosedive had a frozen expression again, unable to form coherent speech. Gunner didn't seem to mind, slapping Nosedive's shoulder in a friendly manner before heading off in the other direction.

"See ya at tryouts!" he called as he left. "Better put in some extra pizazz since you missed yesterday's!"

Nosedive managed to turn around, watching Gunner wave. "Later!" the yellow duck hollered out before crossing the street.

Eventually, long after Gunner had stopped looking, Nosedive brought his hand up in a deflated wave. "…Later."

\ \ \

"So, wait, ya did join da team dhat year?"

Nosedive's ghostly smile returned as he nodded. "Yup. Went to tryouts that next week and got my shot as winger."

"Whoa, how did that happen?"

The teenager shrugged. "Wing was there as goalie and Canard was there as captain. I followed the rules and didn't say a damn word about it. I tried to get the truth outta Wing, but he brushed it off like it was all Canard's doing.

"And, well, I wasn't about to ask Canard if that was true or not."

"So then what do you think happened?" Mallory probed.

Nosedive let out a big sigh, his head shaking briefly as he thought about it, and both of his hands resting on one of Wildwing's. "Canard was an only duckling, but I think with Wing he had found a brother, in a way. But Wing always, always put me first."

"Sacrifice is something to aspire to," Grin calmly stated, earning four sets of eyes in his direction.

"Wing can be pretty adamant when he wants to be," the youngest team member gently added, turning back to look at his older brother. "It wouldn't surprise me if he stuck his skate in the ground about quitting until I got another chance."

"An' Canard just let 'im?" Duke asked suspiciously, his hands casually gripping the edge of the table he leaned against. "That seems … unlikely."

"In the Academy, Canard was probably the most stubborn duck out of all the cadets," Mallory agreed, her arms crossed over herself.

Nosedive simply shrugged, but Grin stated, "A rope is only as strong as the knot that binds it together."

The rest of the ducks paused again, digesting the seemingly arbitrary sentence.

Tanya seemed to tie the pieces together first when she hesitantly clarified, "Wing … is the knot?"

Grin nodded. Nosedive, still obviously baffled, looked to the other blonde team member.

"You an' Canard share one common element," Duke interjected. "I t'ink Wing was Canard's voice of reasonin', just like he's yers."

"It was probably why he bent so easily with you coming with us, too," Mallory thought out loud. "He was about as straight-laced as you can get, and bringing a minor on the team was a huge liability for him."

"Gee, thanks Mal-Mal."

"It's not about your abilities, Dive," Mallory argued, "it's just how the military is. They don't care about the why of it—everything's black and white when it comes to the rules."

"Mal, I think that's the most honest you've ever been about da Special Forces," Duke quipped, earning a hard glare from the redhead.

She waved them both off. "Look, all I'm saying is that Canard didn't bend the rules for just anyone, and I imagine the same goes for his pride."

That did earn a bout of thoughtful silence from the group. Nosedive returned his attention to his brother, absently rubbing under his eyes as he stifled a yawn.

Tanya suddenly jumped off the adjacent Medicom's gurney, startling the group. "All right, g-guys, we need to talk."

She walked up to Nosedive, one of her hands coming to rest on his shoulder. "Nosedive," she stated seriously, "Wildwing is in a, uh, induced coma. That means the m-medication we're giving him is, uh, keeping him under." She looked back up at the other ducks. "The Medicom is con-continually scanning and repairing what it, um, can, but the brain bleed it can't."

Nosedive's eyes slowly peered up at the older female. "What heals that?" he quietly asked.

Tanya sighed, her hand squeezing the teenager's shoulder. "Time." She released her hold and walked over to the computer, Duke shifting to get out of her way. "But the, uh, current reports are promising. It is showing that the bleeding is slowing, a-and the hope is that in a week or so—"

"A week?!" the younger duck squeaked.

"Yes, a week. The Medicom is still healing, uh, tissue damage," Tanya calmly explained, "and the continual bleeding has t-taken a toll on his systems. Right now everything is … well, a-um, waiting game."

She paused, poignantly looking at Duke. He returned her stare blankly at first, then his eyes widened and he straightened up. "Taunny's right, Dive. I get ya want ta be 'ere when Wing wakes up, but he won't 'til we stop dhat medication…" He glanced back at Tanya for a silent confirmation of what he was saying. When she nodded, he continued, "So why don't we get ya cleaned up, meybe take a short snooze before ya pass out?"

"I'm not leaving him," Nosedive stated through gritted teeth. This was not the first conversation to broach the subject, and it was obvious the teenager's patience had worn thin from it.

Mallory stood up this time, hands on her hips. "I'm sorry, did you piss in here?"

"Excuse me?" Nosedive balked.

"Well, you said you won't leave his side."

"Look, smartass—"

"That sounds like a no. So I'm pretty sure you managed to leave and go to the toilet, right?" she pushed, walking up to Nosedive's side so they could make eye contact. "That means a ten-minute shower won't change anything, either." The younger duck opened his beak to retort, but Mallory quickly added, "And you don't have to sleep in your room. I'll get a cot and set it up in here for you."

The statements were brash and Nosedive held the redhead's stare for a few moments, no one saying anything. Apparently directness worked, though, because he eventually sighed and nodded. "All right, I get it, I smell. I'll shower if you get the cot."

"Good," she simply answered, walking out of the infirmary. "You better not be here when I get back!"

Nosedive sarcastically waved Mallory off as the doors shut behind her, but promptly stopped and made a face. "Stars, I do smell..."

"Yes, you do. Welcome back to, uh, reality," Tanya concluded, but smiled warmly at the teenager.

Nosedive's arms immediately returned to his sides, where his armpits could be denied airspace. He glared at Tanya and stuck out his tongue.

"Come on, Mr. Maturity," Duke walked over, helping the exhausted teenager out of the stool. "Grin and I will make sure you don't pass out and drown in an inch of water."

"Why, Duke, I didn't know you cared."

"Oh, I don't. Wing's wrath is far more motivating."

That earned a genuine chuckle from Nosedive, the first one in what felt like ages. Grin joined the two as they exited the infirmary, and Tanya stayed behind to keep an eye on their comatose leader.

"So, Bro, you gotta lay out the truth here: what did ya do to get Canard to let me try out again?"

Present-day Wildwing had a cool grin plastered on his face, and only nonchalantly shrugged at the question. "Like I told you then, Canard came up to me and apologized. Said you got one more chance for the year, and asked me to reconsider my decision to quit."

Nosedive held his brother's gaze, obviously searching for telltale signs of deceit. When Wildwing kept up his poker face, however, the younger duck half-sighed and half-groaned, shaking his head and looking back at Grin.

"You see what I deal with?"

Grin did not respond to the question, but rather said, "Our journey has ended here."

"Seriously?" Nosedive whined. "Talk about your cliffhangers," he added as a mere grumble. When Grin shot him a frown, the blonde duck quickly held his hands up in mock defeat. "I get it, one revolution equals 24 hours, or whatever. But I still say we haven't honored any fallen victims."

"Dive—"

"This day, one revolution ago, brought many ends and many beginnings," Grin interrupted Wildwing's chastising towards his brother. "Wildwing did not fall, but your heart did, Nosedive. All our hearts, and certainty, fell when our leader was nearly lost."

The pacifist had spoken with his eyes closed, but he opened them to see the brothers watching him intently. "Not all victims perish, but all victims become victors with each new day gained."

The large duck stood, signalling the other two to stand, as well. Wildwing patted Nosedive on his back reassuringly. "And I'm right here. You don't need those memories to remember that."

The teenager rolled his eyes. "Sure, but maybe seeing me in despair for two more weeks until you woke up could've really earned me some guilt-laden practice passes."

Wildwing paused as he stared at his little brother. He glanced at Grin silently, then in one fell swoop arm-locked Nosedive for a (well-deserved) noogie.

"AGH, STOP! MY DOO!"

"You're obviously in need of some brotherly love, Dive!"

Nosedive finally escaped Wildwing's hold, his blonde hair a rather staticky mess on the top of his head. "This means war, hermano!"

"Bring it on," Wildwing effortlessly shot back.

The younger duck smiled evilly, waved goodbye to Grin, and shot out of the room and around the corner. Wildwing laughed as the teenager left, but regained composure as he returned his gaze to the pacifist.

"Thanks for letting us sit in on your meditation, Grin, and for your words of wisdom."

The large gray duck bowed gracefully as the leader left the room. Alone once again, Grin walked up to his doorway and pressed a button, shutting himself inside with a quiet hiss.

He took a deep breath and checked the placement of his crystals and candles. Satisfied with their positioning, Grin returned to his spot on the floor, sitting down and crossing his legs once more.

Honor the fallen. Honor those that had succumbed to the Saurians. The day had started out with the need for remembrance, but as Grin settled down to truly finish the end to a long day one revolution ago, his interest was towards one pivotal conversation.

It would need to be fresh in his mind, as there was an undeniable change coming, one that none of the team could control.

1 Revolution Ago

"Don't go far now, handmaidens," Nosedive joked with a high-pitched voice, waving daintily to Grin and Duke as he entered his quarters to shower and change. Grin ignored the cheeky comment, but Duke blew a kiss with a rather inappropriate finger gesture before the door shut.

"How dhat kid keeps chipper is beyon' me," Duke commented offhandedly.

"Humor is the best defense against pain," Grin simply responded.

Duke took the time to glance at Grin, but eventually let out a small hum. "Meybe." He stretched his arms, turning his neck side to side before rubbing his shoulder muscle tiredly. "Good job d'ere, by the way."

Grin gave only a hint of an arched brow to the gray mallard.

"Fer calmin' the kid down," Duke clarified. "Aside from Wing, I think yer the closest to him. An' I think it's obvious he needs all da support he can get."

The large pacifist took a deep breath, his eyes observing Duke carefully. "Indeed," he replied. He continued watching as Duke languidly paced, until the older drake finally sighed.

"All right, what's wit' da stare down?"

Grin did not hesitate: "You have a heavy aura."

The ex-thief snorted, looking off into the distance. "You know dhat stuff doesn't work wit' me."

"Falcone is a Brother," Grin bluntly declared.

Duke, by all accounts, could probably read others better than Grin could. The ex-thief could see nuances in movements, even something as subtle as a blink, and would be able to immediately deduce if they were lying. Grin, on the other hand, relied on a more ethereal method of judgement. While Duke (and most others, honestly) could not see it, years of meditation had honed the large duck to a certain presence that surrounded all creatures. That presence was not necessarily visible, but rather a range of emotions that could be felt with enough concentration.

So, while Grin couldn't tell if someone was lying, he could feel the guilt, or perhaps the worry, emanating off their essence. In the beginning it was only a hint of recognition, but as Grin learned to focus his own energy towards it, it became second nature to detect. And, because of it, he had become damn good at feeling out the validity of others.

But just because he was connected with their auras did not mean he could read them perfectly. Lucretia had had a heavy aura when he had met her. At the time, however, Grin had chalked it up to her dimensional travelling and fear of the unknown. He had believed her story and attributed her unusual glow to it. Grin had always been more optimistic towards others' intentions, and in this case the large duck had completely misread hers.

He had now known Duke for far longer, however, and Grin was positive that Duke had never had a heavy aura. Not even with the team's first encounter with Falcone, when the ex-thief had supposedly switched sides.

Therefore, when Duke only minutely flinched at Grin's direct statement, it was unsurprising that the pacifist was able to pick up on it.

"He is," Duke calmly responded, no trace of tension in his voice or demeanor.

"Are you?" Grin asked.

"I'm no longer a part of da Brot'erhood."

"That was not the question."

Neither pacifist nor ex-thief backed down from their extended eye contact, and the silence lingered in the otherwise empty hallway.

"What is the cost of honor?" Grin asked at last, his deep voice nearly reverberating in the empty corridor.

"Nothing, if you play yer cards right," Duke answered instantly, crossing his arms.

"Perhaps we have not proven ourselves, then."

"It has nothin' ta do wit'—" Duke cut himself off, taking a deep breath and exhaling it out slowly. "Falcone just ruffled my feathers, all right? He manipulates, it's what he does. You—or da others—'ave nothing ta worry about."

Grin internally sighed. Duke was avoiding the conversation, resolutely, and had no intentions of telling anyone what Falcone had truly asked of him. They had all watched the video footage from Duke's trip to the Queen's Den in Britain, where Falcone had been imprisoned. It was clear that the Raptrin had brought up some history between the two Brotherhood members by speaking in a foreign language, but Duke merely brushed it off as some old Brotherhood law that Falcone was trying to impose.

The others believed him, and Grin was inclined to, as well, except for that heaviness that had settled around the ex-thief's entire being. It had not let up since Duke's return to Anaheim, and when Grin tried to focus in on the aura, all he could feel was absolute anger and uncertainty.

From someone so normally cool and collected, regardless of the situation, it was unsettling.

A faint sound of Nosedive loudly—and badly—singing filtered through his door, helping to dissolve the tension lingering in the air.

Grin chose then to bow deeply to Duke, responding to his earlier assurances. "I trust you, my friend, but you are chained to shadows. If you let the past take control of the present, then you are at risk of costing yourself the future, as well."

Duke did not respond right away. The two gray mallards maintained eye contact, the continual emptiness of their surroundings almost deafening between their unspoken conversation.

If Duke chose not to disclose what had been asked of him, then there was very little Grin could do to help the ex-thief out of his predicament. He believed in his teammate, but he worried whether Duke would put that same trust back into his team.

The weight he was carrying was undeniable, however, and one that no individual should bear alone.

With the discussion at a standstill, Grin took the opportunity to knock on Nosedive's door. The teenager called out sarcastically, "NOT DECENT!" in another high-pitched voice, to which the large duck rolled his eyes at.

"Grin?"

The pacifist looked back to Duke, who had decided to lean against the wall. His arms were crossed, but he had a serious expression on his face when he caught the larger duck's attention.

"Whatever happens, eh … just know that, I am in a Brot'erhood. Dhis one." Before Grin could reply, Duke continued with, "And it's not honor, or trust. It's freedom dhat costs da most."

The ex-leader of the Brotherhood of the Blade briefly adjusted the strap around his eye patch, clearing his throat and pushing off the wall with one of his feet. The door to Nosedive's room suddenly hissed open, its now-clean owner stepping out in street clothes.

"Miss me, ladies?"

Duke grinned. "Come on, Princess Peach, Mario's waitin' for ya in da infirmary." The older drake started walking in that direction, Nosedive trailing after him.

"Hey, if I'm gonna be a princess, I wanna be Zelda!"

"Suit yerself, dweeb."

"Look grandpa, just because some of us don't understand the intricacies that is the gaming world, does not mean you get to throw shade at it. I'll have ya know, Zelda KICKS A—"

Their voices faded abruptly as they left the hallway and entered the Rec Room, the automatic door sliding shut behind them. Grin stood motionless by Nosedive's room, his eyes distant as he absorbed Duke's last sentence and its meaning.

What exactly was the price of freedom?

EEEOOOEEEOOOEEEOOOEEEOOO—

Grin's eyes shot open at the alarm blaring into both his room and his COM unit attached to his wrist. He let out an aggravated sigh and stood up, taking a few extra seconds to blow out the candles in his room before exiting.

Reevaluating a conversation from a revolution ago did nothing to quell the uneasiness that had been plaguing Grin's conscience for a few days, now. While the conversation itself was long ago, there was something about it that had urged Grin to revisit its progression, and eventually spurred his meditation session when all the memories would be the strongest.

He was glad to have Nosedive and Wildwing join him, as these moments were as much theirs as they were his, but he opted to keep his conversation with Duke to himself. If there was something Wildwing had yet to overcome, it was his exceptional ability to overanalyze and worry, and Duke had left a lot of loose ends during that talk a year and a half ago.

Entering the Rec Room, Grin climbed the centralized ladder to the upper platform, where the rest of the team had converged for the alarm. Wildwing, in full battlegear, was already talking with Duke, while Tanya was typing away at the control panel to Drake One.

Grin glanced up and saw a map of Europe, with a very pronounced red, flashing circle on an area within the United Kingdom. Next to it, a picture-in-picture showed a headshot of Ernest Falcone, with the word "MISSING" underneath it.

The uneasy feeling from earlier returned with a vengeance.

Anaheim, California

There was a loud BANG, followed by a huge gust of wind. Vivid colors swirled in front of the large form, sending his cape billowing towards it.

He kept himself grounded, however, watching the scene unfold carefully. Long minutes passed, the vortex in front of him continuing to swirl like a psychedelic hallucination. Eventually a lone figure emerged, seemingly walking on air within the colorful tunnel.

The vortex narrowed as soon as the figure managed to pass through, the accompanying heavy winds dying down and its beautiful colors disappearing into the dark gray atmosphere of the dilapidated warehouse they were left in.

"So lovely to see you, my dear," Falcone stated, his arms crossed in front of him. His cape, no longer flying freely from the dimensional gateway, only subtly moved from the stale air of the desert night.

Despite the ocean breeze that occasionally wafted through, the dry heat remained and had turned the tourist city into an oven for the summer.

Lucretia DeCoy, looking slightly disheveled, glanced up at him and back to the remote device in her hand. She dropped it quickly, almost as if the controller had suddenly burst into flames. "Where … where am I?" she hoarsely asked.

Falcone smiled, walking up to her. She instinctively backed away from him, however, her eyes darting about. Realizing her anxiety, Falcone put his hands up innocently. "There there, my darling. You remember me, yes? Ernie Falcone of the Brotherhood of the Blade? We met briefly during the War, after you had taken down PIA."

Lucretia watched him apprehensively, but his words did seem to register as her expression slowly changed. "What happened?" she finally questioned, slowly returning her observation to the partially demolished building.

"You were brought here by Dragaunus, as was I. From what I read in the logs, it seems Wildwing played you for a fool and made Dragaunus think you had betrayed him. He sent you to Dimensional Limbo. Ringing some bells in that cute little head of yours?"

Lucretia eyed the Raptrin as he spoke, her guard up despite being confused. When he finished she looked away, thinking.

"Yes," she ultimately answered. "The proteus chip." Falcone was next to her now and she peered up at him suspiciously. "How'd you get me out of there?"

Falcone's smile broadened, his arm gently reaching out to wrap around the female duck's thin shoulders. "We have a lot to catch up on, my dear. Please, let us get you somewhere nice to get cleaned up and I'll tell you all about it."

The Raptrin guided them out of the barren warehouse, only briefly stopping to pick up the remote device Lucretia had dropped. The female let him guide her, her arms wrapping around herself as she readjusted to her new surroundings.

fin