The Mighty Ducks and all related characters are the property of 
Disney. No copyright infringement is intended.

It occurs to me, that with everything that’s happened in the past year, 
Dive’s probably got one hell of a complex. I mean, the kid’s a kid! Yet 
in the course of a couple months his planet is conquered, he and his 
brother are recruited into a revolution and they’re stranded on another 
planet with little enough chance of return, risking their lives to stop 
Dragaunus from conquering this planet or leaving and going back to 
reconquer *their* world again. All in all, the poor kid deserves to feel 
sorry for himself every now and then. But what if it goes deeper than 
that?

And I didn’t have anything to do in study hall...


Meditations


He sat at the edge of the roof, legs dangling in the air. One good push, 
or slip and he’d fall to his death.

He wasn’t thinking about it much anyway. As the teenaged hockey star 
from another planet sat staring across the city, the wind whipping his 
blond hair back and forth across his face, the cool evening air relaxing 
him, his thoughts were wandering through the past. The events of the 
present were furthest from his mind.

Those thoughts centered around one basic theme.

He didn’t belong here.

He belonged a galaxy away on a planet no one here had ever heard of 
before now. Right now he’d be finishing up his schooling, hanging 
around with Tremaine and the rest of the gang and wondering what 
the hell had ever happened to Wildwing and Canard. Or, if things 
hadn’t gone as well as they hoped, he’d be a worker in the mines, 
avoiding the Hunter Drones, fighting to stay alive and wondering what 
the hell had ever happened to Wildwing and Canard that day they 
went off to fight a war. Not the best possible life, but one that he 
belonged to. This life was never meant for him. 

Canard had known that. The older man hadn’t wanted him along, had 
thought him a risk to their chances of defeating Dragaunus, had tried 
to leave him out of all this. But Wildwing refused, insisted that his 
little brother be brought along. And Canard had agreed. For 
Wildwing.

Dive rather wished he hadn’t.

It would have been a hell of a lot easier for everyone concerned if he 
had stayed behind. Truth of the matter was, despite his jokes and 
bravado, he knew very damn well that he had nothing to contribute to 
the team. Mallory, Duke and Tanya were experts at what they did. 
Grin was his own kind of expert. And Wildwing... Wild may doubt 
himself, but, push come to shove, he would win every time. Dive was a 
teenager with a smart mouth.

Sure he had a knack with languages, and he had managed to work out 
the variations between English and their own language, saved them all 
from some embarrassing mix-ups, but that was no big deal. They 
would have figured it out for themselves sooner or later. And he had 
helped them survive Dragaunus’ trap back home, before the fateful trip 
through the vortex that had left them stranded here, but that had been 
more chance than anything else. And who was to say really that they 
wouldn’t have escaped on their own? In the grand scheme of things, 
what difference did his presence make? He was just someone to get in 
the way. Someone the others would always have to worry about. 
Canard had been right; he wasn’t cut out for this.

Sometimes he wished he had been the one to be left behind in the 
vortex instead of Canard. At least he would have been of some use; his 
sacrifice would have saved the others, and Canard would still be here. 
Instead of a kid they’d have a leader. He didn’t necessarily wish that 
Wildwing would lose the mask, or his position as leader, it was good 
for him. His older brother had a remarkably low opinion of himself for 
such a together person. All things considered though, it probably 
would have been for the best.

It was getting darker and colder while he sat there, his thoughts 
running in circles in his head. He’d been gone for hours. Sooner or 
later Wildwing would come looking for him, or worse, send one of the 
others to find him. There were few things he found more demeaning 
than having them check up on him all the time. Like they were afraid 
he couldn’t take care of himself.

He swung his legs back up over the side and got to his feet. He’d go 
back inside, play the annoying teenager bit he did so well, and never 
let on, to anyone, the worries in his mind. Because he was too afraid, 
that if they ever knew, they’d agree with him. 

And he didn’t think he could deal with that.