Mighty Ducks Fanfiction:

Run, Adam. Run. Don't stop moving. Because then, you will feel your heart breaking. And Adam kept running. Running from Dalton Academy. Running from the Ducks. Running from the anger words that he and Charlie had exchanged. Bully. Brat. Cake-eater. He couldn't decide which hurt the most. He didn't even notice the steps, that is until he was tumbling down them. And then came the pain.

He tried to stand, but his ankle felt like it was on fire. No, no, no! This can't be happening, Adam thought. He quickly pulled out his shoe to see his ankle already turning colors. "Crap, that doesn't look good, Adam," he heard a voice from above say. His eyes traveled from the boy's feet up to his face, only to see Scooter standing over him. "It's fine," Adam retorts, quickly putting his shoe back on and standing up. He starts walking, pretty much hobbling away.

"Adam." He feels Scooter put his hand on his elbow, supporting some of his weight. The two boys walk slowly back to Adam's dorm, not saying another word. The walk felt like an eternity, Scooter helps Adam to his bed and then runs to get a bag of ice. As Scooter wraps Adam's foot with the chilled ice bag, Adam hisses in pain. "Adam, please let me take you to get this looked at."

Adam's eyes sparked with something; Scooter couldn't tell if it was pain or fear. "I'm fine, Scooter," Adam fights. "If it's not better in a few days, I will go get it checked out." Scooter turns to leave, when he has Adam whisper: "Please, don't tell the Ducks." He doesn't turn back to Adam, only nodding in argument. "Fine, Adam." The door closes behind him.

Several hours passed until the door opened again. This time Charlie walked through the door. Adam could hear him sniff, knowing that he too had been crying. But Adam kept his back to him, face towards to the wall. He didn't move a muscle. Adam heard the familiar sounds of Charlie getting ready for bed: the squeak of the shower, the swish of him flinging his wet hair around, the scratching of his toothbrush, his heavy footsteps after a long day, the flick of the lights. Blackness surrounded the two boys. And then Adam heard the whisper, "I'm sorry, Adam. I love you." Finally, sleep.

Adam woke up some time in the night to his ankle throbbing. He turned over to see his clock read 4:55 am. Adam grunted, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. Adam didn't normally get up this early, but today was game day, which meant that Charlie was waking up at 5:30 and Adam wanted to get a good look at his ankle before that happened.

Adam slowly put pressure on his ankle. Almost immediately, his eyes filled with tears. His breathe hitched in pain. But even so, Adam limped to the bathroom, closing the door behind him. As soon as his eyes adjusted to the light, he saw the bruising, black and blue of his ankle. Grabbing an ace bandage, he sat down and began wrapping his ankle. Several minutes later, the burning pain in his ankle slowly turned into a steady, painful throbbing. Swallowing some ibuprofen, Adam returned to the bedroom right as Charlie's alarm started wailing.

Adam put all his effort into disguising his limp as the two boys got ready for the day in the cramped space of their dorm room. The silence between the two boys was deafening; the stress could have been cut by a knife. Adam waited until Charlie had finally left before putting on his shoes, hissing in pain several times. This was going to be a long day.

As he entered the cafeteria, Adam immediately felt someone's arm wrap around his shoulder, pulling him closer, taking some weight off his screaming ankle. He turned his head to find it was Scooter. "How is it?" Scooter mumbled so that no one else would hear him. "I'm fine." Adam stated coldly. The whole time he could feel Charlie's eyes following them through the cafeteria.

And Scooter barely left his side for the rest of the day, walking with him from class to class and meeting him in the cafeteria for lunch. And every time Adam saw Charlie, he quickly glanced away, not wanting to see if there were tears in his eyes or not.

By the time that the pair reached the hockey rink, Adam was almost feeling optimistic about the game. Scooter stopped short of walking in. "Banks, are you sure you need to do this?"

No, Adam thought. "I'll be fine," Adam responding, hoping that some enthusiasm would mask the fear and the pain that he truly felt.

"Be careful, Adam." Scooter turned, walking away from the door. Adam understood why Scooter didn't walk him inside. That would have been like saying that he would have been ok with Adam skating tonight. And Adam knew that skating was the last thing that he should be doing.

The locker room was already chaotic with pre-game rituals when Adam walked in. Fulton and Portman were ramming into the lockers. Julie was stretching out her gloves. Guy and Connie were having their usual make-out session. And then Adam spotted Charlie, sitting alone on the bench, looking sadder than Adam had ever seen him. As quickly as he could, Adam grabbed his pads and went to the showers to change, fighting back the tears that had filled his eyes.

Soon, the locker room quieted as the players filed onto the hockey rink. Adam worked up the courage to put on his skates. Looking down at his swollen ankle, he questioned if his foot would actually fit into the boot. He hissed as he pulled on his skate; the boot tightening around the swelling. Standing, he prayed his ankle would not give out. He stood. The door swung up. "Banks, you coming?" Coach Bombay asked. "Yep." Adam responded, grabbing his stick and plastering a smile on his face.

The game was going well. The Dalton Academy Ducks were up by two points. 2:34 left on the clock. Adam could not believe that he had made it through most of the game. His ankle was on fire, but Coach Bombay and the rest of the Ducks didn't seem to notice that anything was wrong.

Guy passed Adam the puck. Defenders surrounded Adam, pinning him to the wall. Adam managed to pass the puck to Charlie. A skate collided with his ankle. Hard. The pain that Adam had been trying to push down the entire game intensified. A scream ripped through his throat. His body collided with the ice. Tears fell as his hands grasped around his ankle.

The shrill screak of the whistle blow. Adam felt someone touch his shoulder. "Banks," spoke the calm voice of Coach Bombay. "Let me have a look." Fingers persuade his hands into letting go. Whimpers of pain as his skate is gently removed. A hard silence as Coach Bombay inspects my swollen ankle. All the while, a hand grasping Adam's, anchoring him to reality. A gentle touch wiping away his tears. Charlie.

Through the whirlwind of doctors and pain killers, Adam did not remember much. The one thing that he did remember was Charlie by his side every step of the way. In the end, Adam was told he had a grade 3 lateral sprain on his right ankle. He was given crutches for the next three weeks and a stern warning to not participate in any physical activity for the next eight to ten weeks. But Adam didn't care about this. All he cared about was having Charlie right there by his side.

As Adam and Charlie arrived back on campus, Adam stopped. "Charlie, I'm sorry and I love you, too." Tears once again filled his eyes. Charlie looked back at Adam. "You were awake?" Adam nodded. Charlie's eyes too filled his tears. "When I saw you with Scooter, I thought you didn't need me anymore," Charlie whispered. "I needed you more than ever. Scooter knew about my ankle. And I couldn't think about you without crying." Adam retorted. The two boys hugged, crutches forgotten.

"I love you, Adam Banks."

"I love you, Charlie Conway."