DISCLAIMER: I own nothing associated with The Mighty Ducks.

Freshman year at Eden Hall did not start well for the Ducks. Deserted by Bombay, Jesse and Portman they entered the year with their team morale at an all time low. Adding salt to the wound was the fact that it seemed the entire student body despised them and that their new coach wanted nothing more than to break what was left of the team apart. Through tragedy and adversity they persevered, winning the JV-Varsity Showdown thanks to the convenient return of Dean Portman and ultimately gaining the respect of their new school.

February 1996

"Bye Mom," Portman hugged his mother, the woman pulling away and holding him at arms length.

"Dean, you better behave," she warned him sternly, sending him a look he knew better than to disobey.

"Ma, I know," he chuckled, pulling her back into a hug. "You worry too much."

"You give me too much to worry about," she squeezed him tightly, kissing his cheek. "Be good. Fulton, make sure he's good."

"Yes ma'am," Fulton replied, keeping all smart-alecky remarks to himself. He had learned the summer before just how detrimental to his health an ill placed remark could be around his friend's Brooklyn raised Latina mother.

"I'm proud of you. Remember, you mess up and your ass is home in less than 5 hours. Goodbye Mi'ijo," she kissed her son once more before kissing and hugging Fulton and getting back in the car.

"Later Dan," Portman nodded to his step-father who sat poised behind the wheel of the car, to which the man simply nodded in return. The two had a cantankerous relationship as of late, chocked up to the simple fact that Dean was a teenager and felt the need to always pull the 'you're not my real dad' card with Dan. This day was no different; they'd argued the entire way to Minnesota from Chicago the evening before and then the entire way from their hotel room to the Eden Hall campus once they were in town.

While it was true that Dan wasn't Dean's real father, he'd been a part of the boy's life since he was 6 months old. He'd raised him, provided for him and given him his last name. Dan was the reason Dean played hockey and the fact that Dean felt the constant need to take his teenaged aggression out on him was tearing Dan apart.

Watching the car pull away from the curb, Portman gave a quick wave and turned to his friend, "oh sweet freedom," he smiled, throwing his arms in the air.

"Where the hell were you?" Fulton quickly cut to the chase, punching his friends shoulder as he helped lug the trash bags full of Portman's possessions into the dorms.

"Chill, dude," Portman chided. "I'm here now and that's all that matters."

"I'm not gonna chill until you tell me why you left me here by myself! I've been in hell and you didn't even give me an excuse as to why, just a freakin' phone call saying you're not coming!" Fulton ranted.

"You're not even here a full day and your girlfriend's already yelling at you, huh Portman", Kenny laughed, walking up behind the pair.

"I know, once you get her started there's no shutting her up. She just nag-nag-nags," Portman shook his head before bursting into laughter with the little bash brother, which only served to infuriate Fulton further.

"You're not funny," Fulton grumbled.

"Whatever," Portman rolled his eyes before noticing Kenny's figure skates. "Where areyou going, fairy-boy?"

"I'm meeting up with Tammy before lunch," Kenny ignored the fairy comment, having gotten used to the Ducks making fun of his figure skating past.

"Fulton's first love? That Tammy?" he inquired, swooning to annoy his friend even more.

"Uh, I guess," Kenny shrugged. "I gotta motor or I'll miss the bus, see you later," he said quickly, realizing the time and rushing toward the bus stop.

"So, how do you feel about Wu mackin' on your woman?" Portman asked.

"He's not macking on Tammy, besides, she has a boyfriend," Fulton huffed; it was obviously a sore subject. "Don't change the subject either. Tell me why you didn't show up in September. Now!" he demanded.

"Fine," Dean groaned, he knew he'd have to tell him eventually. "Can we at least do this inside?"

"Fine," Fulton shrugged, happy to have gotten his way.

Keying into the dorm room, Fulton threw Portman's bags onto the empty bed. Thanks to Bombay and his endless connections, Portman would have a single for as long as he attended Eden Hall. It was the only request Dean had made when Bombay went to Chicago to get him back on the team, well, along with the fact that his mother not know he didn't have a roommate.

"Spill," Fulton instantly demanded.

"Chill!" Portman reminded him, setting down the bags he was carrying, only to be met with a stony glare and crossed arms from his friend. "Fine, fine, fine, do you remember that Vanessa girl from this summer?"

"Crazy Vanessa? The girl who was 15 feet away from us no matter where we went?" his friend eyed him incredulously.

"Yeah," he groaned, knowing how bad this was going to sound. "Well, I got bored when you left and we kind of started going out and one thing led to another and…"

"Don't tell me you slept with her…"

"Hey! It's the 90's!" he tried to defend and rationalize his actions all in one fell swoop.

"Dude!" Fulton turned away from him with a cringe. "Gross man! That is no way to lose your virginity."

"You're telling me," he sighed. "It gets worse, too."

"What, did she give you something itchy?"

"She told me she was pregnant 3 days before I was supposed to leave to come here."

"Wow," Fulton's jaw dropped, not sure what to say. "If she's- then why are you- Jesus Christ man!"

"She lied," Dean sighed. "Crazy Vanessa is exactly that, CRAZY! She didn't want me to leave and she found a positive pregnancy test in her mom's trash, so the whack job took it and made my life hell for three months," he explained.

"You have got to be kidding me," Fulton stared at him, not sure if he should laugh or not.

"I wish I was," Portman groaned, reliving the last few months in his head. "Don't tell my mom I have a single either, she'll flip and think I'm using it for "sinful acts," her words, not mine."

"Oh man, she must have FLIPPED!" Fulton couldn't help himself any longer and started laughing.

"She made me go to confession and tell the priest all about my impure thoughts," he cringed at the memory. "I'm glad you're taking joy from my pain."

"Come on man, you have to admit that it's pretty funny," he placed a reassuring hand on Portman's shoulder.

"Yeah, I guess you're right," he gave in and chuckled a bit. "I'm so done with chicks."

"No you're not," Fulton sent him a knowing look.

"You're right, but I'm definitely keeping it in my pants for a while."

"I don't blame you."

"Sorry I ignored you," he apologized, realizing how much he really could have used his friend in the past few months.

"Oh, you'll be sorry alright," Fulton smirked before wrestling the other bash brother to the ground, the two horsing around for the next 15 minutes before Portman finally gave in.

"We're okay then?" Portman asked.

"Yeah, we're cool."

"Good, so who's the hippie chick Cap'n Duck was sucking face with?"

"Linda?" Fulton asked. "Yeah, she's pretty intense but she like, knows everyone. I swear dude, the jocks all hate her but she's queen of the rejects. She got the Chess Club to do our laundry," he remarked, still in awe of how one nutty girl could command so much power.

"And the cat lady and the varsity goalie? The dude looks like a chick; I thought Jules went all lesbo on us," Portman commented, laying on the floor and trying to catch his breath.

"He's a prick. I swear to god, he lays a finger on her and I'll beat his pretty little girl face in," Fulton raged.

"You didn't see him kiss her last night?"

"What?!" he bellowed, getting to his feet and quickly resolving that it was time for Scooter Vanderbilt to die.

"Oh man, you've got it bad," Portman laughed, realizing just what was going on with his friend. "I don't think killing her crush will win you any points though."

"Is it that obvious?" Fulton turned beet red.

"In a third grade kind of way," he shrugged, getting up to start unpacking. "You tease her until she's practically in tears and then try to beat up any boy that shows interest in her."

"I don't tease her!"

"You asked her if she needed to use the litter box when she said her stomach hurt last night! That's not exactly flirting…or concern," Portman laughed, throwing a bag toward his friend. "Help me unpack."

"Shut up, man," Fulton huffed before ripping open the bag and smirking at the CDs that spilled out. "Wow, you're not allowed to be away from the Ducks for that long anymore," he commented.

"What are you talking about?"

"La Bouche, Ace of Base, Mariah Carey? Who are you and what have you done to Portman?" Fulton turned toward his friend, a scared look on his face.

"What the hell?" Portman rifled through the rest of the bag, noticing candles, fake flowers, a box of condoms and a quick note reading; 'I was really looking forward to being an Auntie, don't let me down'. "Maria," he growled. "I swear her whole reason for being put on earth was to torture the life out of me."

"She's like 13; they're supposed to be annoying at that age," he laughed as he read the note.

"She's gone beyond annoying; she's just plain evil now. Where the hell did she get condoms from anyway?"

"Frank?" he offered, referring to the oldest in the Portman clan and Dean's only full sibling.

"He probably gave her the idea. I am so glad to be away from them," he commented, ripping open the rest of the bags in search of sheets and pillows. He was quickly adjusting to the fact that he finally had his own space, after 15 years of life he wouldn't have to share a room.

"They're hilarious," Fulton said, coming across the pillows and throwing them at Portman.

"Yeah, for a few weeks, anything after that is cruel and unusual." It was true, the Portman kids were horrible toward each other, but it was always done in good fun. With seven of them (a direct side effect of their parents' strong Catholic upbringing), there was always some sort of mischief or chaos being wrought around the house.

"Whatever," Fulton rolled his eyes before going back to their previous conversation. "So, what kind of kiss was it?"

"Which one?"

"WHICH ONE? He kissed her more than once?" he raged, his stomach in knots.

"Well, there was the PG cheek kiss on the ice and then there was the bordering on NC-17 kiss outside of the locker room," Portman informed him, "not like I was spying on them or anything. It was just, I don't know, you know when you go by a car accident and you can't look away? It was kind of like that, all awkward and Julie and gross."

"I think I'm going to be sick," Fulton groaned, pushing bags so he could sit on the bed.

"You're such a girl," Portman rolled his eyes. "Come on, let's go, we're already late."

"For what?"

"Goldberg's, remember? His parents are having the team over for lunch? You alright man, you never forget food?"

"What does she see in him? They've treated us like crap since we got here!"

"I don't know," Portman sighed out of frustration, "why don't you ask her when we get to Goldberg's. Now come on, I'm starving," he pulled his friend off the bed and pushed him out the door.