Wildwing paced up and down in front of the Pond, clutching her brother’s discarded communicator in her sweaty hands. She’d been there for nearly an hour. When it was starting to get dark and there had been no sign of Nosedive, the rest of the team had volunteered to split up and go look for him. That would leave Wildwing to stay at the Pond in case he called or came home. They did this so that Wildwing would stay off her feet and let her injury heal, but the wound was no longer causing Wildwing any pain and staying in one place only made her think of what she did not want to think about.

Wildwing paced back and forth once again, the sweat forming under her mask, which sat white and inactive over her face. All at once there was a rumbling in the distance. Wildwing froze and straightened to her full height. After a while the rumbling grew louder and more distinctive. It was too small to be the Migrator... one of the duckcycles then... Wildwing opened her eyes wide and peered into the darkness. Yes, it was definitely a duckcycle. She tried to make out the figure riding it... the silhouette was too small to be Grin’s and too broad-shouldered to be either Mallory or Tanya. Duke had taken the Migrator, so that left... “Well, it’s about time you came home.”

Nosedive hopped casually off the duckcycle without bringing it to a complete stop, something Wildwing had repeatedly warned him not to do. And on top of that, he’s not even wearing a helmet, she thought, seething.

“Hey, Wing,” Nosedive said.

“Is that all?” Wildwing asked darkly. “You take off without saying a word, you leave your comm at home, you don’t even bother to call, you don’t come home until well passed your curfew and the best you can come up with is ‘Hey, Wing’? Where the heck have you been, anyway?”

“I was around.”

“That’s not good enough,” Wildwing snapped sharply. “Try again.”

“I drove around,” Nosedive replied angrily. “I wanted to be alone, I had a lot to think about.”

“Oh really,” Wildwing said sarcastically. “I wasn’t aware you could think. You didn’t think at all last night, and you certainly weren’t thinking this afternoon.”

“I don’t need to come home to this,” Nosedive answered, raising his voice.

“Well, I don’t need to spend all night worrying about you!” Wildwing said, matching her brother in volume. “If you can’t act intelligent, you could at least have the courtesy to tell someone where you’ll be.”

“I’m going to my room,” Nosedive said, elbowing Wildwing roughly out of his way.

“Fine,” Wildwing snapped. “Don’t bother coming out tomorrow.”

The door to the Pond swung shut, making a loud bang in the silence.

“Nosedive!” Wildwing called without turning around.

The door opened again. “What?”

“You forgot this,” Wildwing said, tossing Nosedive’s comm over her shoulder. She heard him catch it.

“Thanks a lot.” This time he slammed the door shut as hard as he could.

Almost before he was even gone, Wildwing groaned in pain and put a hand over the all-but-forgotten gunshot wound, where Nosedive had just shoved her. Now it was hurting again; those painkillers must have worn off. She’d have to ask Tanya for another one.

Then she remembered that her teammates were still out searching for Nosedive. She flipped open her comm and activated the common channel. “Guys, Wildwing. He’s here, he just came home.”

“Thank goodness,” Mallory said.

“Wildwing...” That was Tanya’s voice. “Are you up and around or are you resting like I told you to?”

“I’m up and around,” Wildwing stated honestly. “No thanks to you, I might add. Those pills of yours knocked me out until noon today, and that blasted infirmary bed hurts my back like you wouldn’t believe.”

“Get back in it,” Tanya ordered in a tone that was not to be argued with. “I’ll talk to you later.”

Tanya entered the infirmary and went straight to business. “Alright, let me have another look at that injury.”

“Sure,” said Wildwing, obligingly raising her blouse a few inches to reveal the med-patch. “But I don’t know why you have to.”

“Those patches stimulate your already accelerated healing process, and right now three of those muscles in your side need healing,” Tanya explained. “You do the math.”

Wildwing said nothing as Tanya began to peel away the tenacious med-patch, doing her best to cause as little pain as possible. She knew as well as anyone that if her muscles did not heal just so, not only would they not be as strong as they were before, but there would be risks of severe long-term damage to other muscles and possibly even her bone structure. Puckworlders healed much faster than human beings, and could recover from far more grievous injuries so long as they lost no more than two and a half pints of blood, but once something was put together the wrong way, that was it.

“Okay,” Tanya said. “Almost got it. By the way, have you talked to the boy yet?”

“Not since he got home,” Wildwing replied. “I’m afraid I may have been a little harsh with him.”

“After the way he acted today,” Tanya said, “I’d only call knocking him halfway across the room ‘a little harsh’.”

“That’s what I thought. Ow! Watch it!”

“Sorry, sorry, almost got it... there.” Tanya folded the patch in half and tossed it away, then bent to examine Wildwing’s injury. “Oh, this looks bad.”

“What?” asked Wildwing, alarmed by her teammate’s tone of voice.

“There’s bruising along the edge of the laceration, and your muscular regeneration in this area’s been severely disrupted.”

“Again. English this time.”

Tanya glanced up. “You banged into something. Hard,” she translated.

“Nosedive,” Wildwing growled. “He shoved me out of the way with his elbow. I had to limp all the way down here, it hurt so much. I thought it was just because the pain-killers had worn off.”

Tanya winced. “Well, maybe there’s something I can do. One thing’s for sure, we’re going to have to set this the hard way. No more med-patches, sedatives, or even pain-killers for that matter. I’m not risking any more drugs on you. And you’re certainly not going to hockey practice for the next two days at least.”

Wildwing gave a start. “Not go to hockey practice?” she cried, outraged.

“No,” Tanya said firmly. “Anyone with half a brain can see you’re in no condition to throw yourself in front of a bunch of flying pucks. Don’t worry, we’re still well into the off-season. You won’t lose your edge if you rest for a few days.”

Wildwing lay back on the bunk and sulked. “Tanya, I’m the goalie! I’m the one player who can’t be taken out of the game at any time! And I’m also Team Captain: I have responsibilities to the team, I have to be at practice!”

“I understand your passion for the position,” Tanya said. “I also understand your need to be there for your teammates. But right now, your primary responsibility is making sure your injuries heal properly. Otherwise, you may never play hockey again.”

“That’s kind of harsh, isn’t it?” asked Wildwing, trying to sound casual but chilled to the bone.

Tanya shook her head. “It’s harsh, but it’s a reality and more than possible, if you don’t take care to prevent the damage your brother almost caused.”

Suddenly Wildwing heard a stifled gasp from the doorway and turned just in time to see a tangle of blond hair disappear around the corner. She heard her brother running furiously down the hallway and knew he must have heard what they’d said. She started to get up.

Tanya held her back. “Not now,” she said. “First things first.”

Wildwing remembered what Tanya had said earlier and shivered. “Yes,” she said quietly. “First things first.”

Nosedive burst into his room, threw himself onto his bunk, and indulged himself in a fit of tears. He’d never once imagined that one act of anger could have cost his sister so much. If it hadn’t been for him, Wildwing’s wound probably would have been healed by tomorrow morning, with little or no pain at all. Now, he’d not only extended that time, he’d actually done more damage.

He probably knew better than anyone the importance of hockey to a Puckworld native. Hockey had given him an edge of his own, and a new outlook on the universe that had made his life better than anything he’d ever dreamed of. Hockey had put Wildwing together with Canard, and had forged for them a friendship that not even Nosedive could ever compete with. The joys and challenges of the sport were what made the Flashblades complete. And with one rage-blinded shove, he’d nearly taken all that away.

Burying his face in his pillow, Nosedive cried himself to sleep. His last conscious thought was a wish that he still shared a room with his sister, so that she could tell him everything was okay before he went to bed.

The next three days passed without incident. The other members of the team had no idea if the Flashblades were still fighting, but suspected that they were; the Flashblades either ignored or avoided each other and neither spoke a single word to the other. Wildwing’s injury healed perfectly, if not quite painlessly, and the third day she practiced with the other members of the team, her skills somewhat rusty. Nosedive neither looked at nor spoke to her, and Wildwing concentrated entirely on re-cultivating her game. Meanwhile, the silence between the two siblings was like a burning fuse.

The fourth night, the explosion came.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Wildwing asked.

Nosedive turned to look at his sister, who was sitting on the common room sofa, reading another book. “I’m going to the movies.”

Wildwing raised an eyebrow, which was reflected in her mask. “At this hour? It’s nearly nine o’clock.”

“It’s Saturday night, Wildwing. Everybody stays out late.”

“Who are you going with?”

“With myself,” Nosedive said, irritated.

“Nosedive, you know I don’t like you out by yourself after dark.”

Nosedive rolled his eyes. “Who do you think you are, my mother?”

Wildwing stood up. “Leave Mom out of this,” she said sternly. “You have a curfew and you have to abide by it. I’m not sending the whole team out to look for you again.”

“I’m just going out for two, maybe three hours,” Nosedive snapped.

“And that’s one, maybe two hours past the time you’re supposed to be home,” Wildwing shot back. “If you want to act like an idiot, that’s your problem, but you’ll do it within the boundaries of my rules.”

“Your rules? Who died and put you in charge?”

Wildwing’s face went as pale as her mask, even her lips lost color, and Nosedive realized the full implications of what he had just said. He knew as well as she did exactly who had put her in charge. Wildwing turned and began to walk away. Oh, no, Nosedive thought as he watched her leave. Without meaning to, he’d just used his sister’s best friend as a weapon against her. He might as well have plunged a knife into her chest.

Or twisted one that was already there.

“Wing, I... I didn’t mean...”

“Go on,” Wildwing said sharply. “Go wherever you want. Do whatever you like. I don’t care anymore.”

Nosedive flinched. “Wing, I’m sorry,” he cried desperately.

“Go!” she yelled back at him. Then she was gone.

Nosedive stood there for several minutes, blinking back tears. “Fine,” he muttered. Then he tore out of the headquarters, mounted a duckcycle and sped away at a recklessly high speed, trying to outrun the pain.

Once safely isolated in her quarters, Wildwing tore her mask off, threw herself onto her bunk, and did what she’d wanted to do for weeks; burst into tears. How could he say that? she thought.

But she knew the answer; he hadn’t been thinking. Neither of them had been particularly thoughtful that week. Wildwing curled up under her blanket, unusually cold. She was not usually in bed so early, but suddenly she was incredibly tired. She closed her eyes and let herself drift into a tearful half-sleep.

Nosedive pulled over at Anaheim park and activated the cycle’s security system. He could have walked that far, but the night was getting too cold to drive much further. The silence was unnerving; Anaheim totally folded after dark, even though there was no legal curfew. There was no one who had any business during the nighttime hours except a few truckers on their way to Los Angeles or San Francisco. This was the darkest part of the city at night, and as such the most dangerous, but Nosedive had a puck-blaster with him and the last thing he was worried about was the presence of simple would-be muggers.

He wandered over to a park bench, sat down sideways, propped his feet up and laid his head on his knees. How could I say that? he wondered in anguish. He’d never forget the look of pain in his sister’s eyes as long as he lived. Wildwing hates me. She hates me; she has to. After what I said, after what I did, she could never forgive me. No one could. Silent tears streamed down his face and his shoulders quivered from more than the cold. He knew he couldn’t blame her; he hated himself for what he’d said.

I still love you, though, he thought. I’ll always love you, sis. I’d give my life for you, if it came to that. No matter what, you’ll always mean more to me than anything in the world. He thought this again and again, crying softly, alone in the dark.

Wildwing groaned and tossed on her bunk. She’d long since stopped brooding on what Nosedive had said to her and was now admonishing herself for her reaction. “I don’t care anymore”? Of course I care! Poor Nosedive must be in fits!

Wildwing pushed herself off her bunk and landed on her feet like a cat. She had to go find him, she had to apologize and end this stupid fight once and for all. Most of all, she wanted to reassure him of how much he meant to her. With a quick press of a button she located his comm signal in Anaheim park. That was a good place for a talk, and she could walk that far.

She threw on her windbreaker and made her way topside. I do care, Nosedive, she thought. More than you could know. And I love you. I love you more than life itself.

Nosedive was still sitting with his face buried in his hands when he heard his name being called. He looked up, hardly daring to hope... “Nosedive!” It couldn’t be... “Nosedive!”

“Wildwing?” he choked, standing up. And suddenly, there she was, standing across the street looking for him. The sight of her standing there, on foot and unmasked just like he’d seen her every day back home on Puckworld thrilled Nosedive beyond measure. “Wildwing!” he cried excitedly.

Wildwing turned, saw him... and smiled! She’s glad to see me! he thought, and bolted across the street as fast as he could.

Halfway there, the pavement lit up under his feet. Bright headlights struck from around the corner, shattering the dark. Nosedive froze in terror.

Not again, he thought.

Wildwing had seen the truck just fraction of a second before Nosedive had, and reacted instantly. Not again, she thought fiercely. Without thinking, Wildwing threw herself towards her brother, who was frozen where he stood in a single second of fear and surprise; a second which had once nearly been his undoing. This time, however, Wildwing would take only that second to save her brother’s life.

Instinctively, Wildwing knocked her brother out of harm’s way in a body-checking manner: a testimony to her years of hockey-playing. Nosedive flew out of danger with all the momentum that Wildwing had been using to get to him. As per the laws of physics, Wildwing came to a dead stop in the place where Nosedive had been standing. Then the second was over, and there was no more time to react.

Blinded by lights and deafened by the screeching of breaks, Wildwing felt herself being knocked back by a cold wall of pain. She experienced the shock that can only be brought by a violent blow to the head, then she hit the pavement hard and rolled several times. The sharp pain in her upper back told her she’d broken at least one bone in her right shoulder. She could center the rest of her sources of agony only vaguely; too much so to make an effective analysis of her condition. She heard Nosedive scream out her name. Groaning, she made an effort to roll onto her back, then she opened her eyes. In the truck’s headlights, she saw her blood collecting on the pavement. She felt her brother’s arms around her. She heard his voice, but could not make out the words, as though he was very far away. At that moment, Wildwing realized that the amount of blood on the street was too great to hope for a recovery, and Nosedive had no means of summoning help. Now, she thought grimly. Say it now; you’ll never get another chance. Just ignore the pain and tell him. So that was what she did; she ignored the flaring agony that seared her nerves with ever movement, met his eyes for a moment, reached up and touched his shoulder gently. “I love you, bro,” she whispered, softly but clearly. Her eyes burned when she saw the look on his face. Straining against the wave of unconsciousness that threatened to overwhelm her, she whispered again, “I love you. And I’m...” she gasped in pain “... sorry... for everything...” Her muscles went slack, and she lay helpless in her brother’s arms.

“I love you too, sis,” she heard him say. Even without the strength to hold her eyes open for more than a second or two at a time, she could here the intense grief in Nosedive’s voice, and feel the trembling of his arms as he cradled her gently, protectively. The tables had indeed been turned. “Please, he whispered, “please hold on. Don’t leave me now.”

He had been through so much, so much in his short teenage life that he deserved all the comfort she could offer. Wildwing smiled gently up at him, too weak to do more. He was safe, that was all that concerned her. She closed her eyes and surrendered consciousness, certain that she was about to die, but not nearly as afraid as she thought she’d be. No, not afraid at all.