Lone Duck

After a serious injury that could possibly ruin his hockey career Adam Banks finds himself in the sunny city of San Francisco attending the prestigious South Beach Academy. Having left his friends, family and his entire life behind Adam feels like a guppy in an ocean of sharks.

And his awkwardness is not helped by the feisty soccer player Samantha Myers who is constantly bothering Adam. And his growing bitterness of the injury that has placed him on the sidelines. Through the layers of hatred and self loathing will Adam ever skate again? And will he be able to see the unlikely romantic interest before his eyes?

Find out in "Lone Duck!"

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The stadium was absolute and complete craziness as the audience was a sea of purple and green. The Duck's colors. Banners' waving frantically in the air as the pounding of hands clapping was ringing in everyone's ears.

"Quack…quack…quack…quack…" The chanting grew louder and was as constant as a heartbeat, rising in volume till the chants crashed upon each other, faster and faster.

"Go Ducks!" the Ducks yelled, their voices hardly rising above the noises of the mob that was the audience.

"This is your final game! This is it! This is time to prove it to all of them, and especially to the Bears, that you are the best." Coach Orion yelled the tension between him and his team and the stadium growing with every word as his team hung off his words.

"And no matter what happens, I am proud of every single one of you. It has been an honor to know all you, and win or lose, I'll see you next season." he added a ghost of a smile as the Ducks pounded the butts of their sticks upon the bench floor.

Charlie, ever the captain, stepped forward and exclaimed, "Come on team! We can do this!"

The players took to the ice as Adam Banks skated to the center for the opening face off. Outwardly he seemed cool, calm and collected. But underneath his careful exterior he was trembling with nerves. He was no fool, though this was just the State Championships, he knew that several members of the overwhelming audience were scouts.

Scouts here to see him, to analyze his every move, to determine if he was worthy of going to their schools and then onward to the NHL. He sucked in a breath as he stopped at the center and out of the corner of his eye saw his best friend, Charlie Conway, nodding approvingly to him from Adam's right side.

Adam nodded back and gazed forward not meeting his opponent's eyes as the ref skated to stand between the two able players. He nodded to the two players and held out his hand, the black puck securely in his grip.

The game started with the small thud of rubber upon ice.

Adam lunged forward and with calculated and practiced ease sent the puck skidding to Fulton who took off to the goal.

The game was on.

It was a collage of movement, screaming and the pounding of Adam's heart, threatening to rip itself from his chest. As he skated, trailing the puck like a hunter stalking its prey, he felt truly alive. His skates gliding over the smooth ice as he skated to speeds that could compare to fellow teammate Luis Mendoza.

This was what it was all about, flying over the ice. Almost consciously Adam looked to the stands, half expecting to see the jolly and smiling form of the Ducks late mentor, Hans. But of course, Hans wasn't there and for a single moment Adam's concentration was broken.

The next thing the star Duck knew was that he was sprawled out in the net of the opposing team. He detangled himself from the grumbling goalie as Charlie laughingly came to his side and offered him a hand, a hand which Adam gratefully took.

"You seem to have a knack for finding yourself in goal nets, don't you Banksie?" Charlie joked as Adam rolled his blue eyes and playfully shoved his best friend.

"Don't jinx it; I'm trying to end the season without getting hurt."

"Change it up!" A harsh voice interrupted their banter as Adam made his way to the bench, passing by Russ Tyler. He seated himself down next to Averman and zoned the redhead out who was making lame jokes, as usual.

Adam took an offered water bottle from Connie Moreau with a grateful smile as he gurgled down several swallows.

"You're doing great out there, Banks." she praised as he smiled and looked down, even his friends complementing him made him blush. He set the water bottle down and placed a hand upon his left knee and began to rub as the knee throbbed.

It had been acting that way for weeks, slight pains during and after games and practices. Slight spasms of pain that had made it hard to walk at some points, constant pain.

Adam had handled it the only way he could, he had told no one.

He was planning on getting it checked out after this game, but there was nothing that would stop Adam from playing in this game. Nothing would stand between him and this game. So Adam had carefully hidden the injury, not an easy feat when one has fourteen friends who had the tendency to watch him like a hawk (No pun intended) and all would flip out if he expressed any notion of pain.

So him having kept it a secret, especially from the Ducks, was very impressive. Now, if only they don't freak out when he goes to the doctors after this game for a confirmation on his knee.

"Banks! On the ice! Now!" Coach Orion's voice pulled Adam from his thoughts as he nodded and took to the ice, once more feeling the adrenaline pumping fire through his veins.

But the lightweight feeling of flying did not last long as the pain in his leg began to migrate throughout the expanse of his leg. He grunted as he struggled to keep up with the players all after the puck like white on rye.

And then the unthinkable occurred.

Adam was checked into the boards with force unheard of as he felt himself pinned against the coolness of the glass. His leg felt like it was on fire as he struggled to free himself. He turned his head in time to see a brute Bear player charging towards him.

There was nothing Adam could do but brace himself for the pain that he knew was coming.

There was a faint popping sound as Adam fell to the ice in a heap. His moaned and bit his lip as to not scream out at the pain rolling over his body like fierce waves during a storm. His whole knee felt ripped and torn apart as he struggled not to cry as the pain grew and grew.

He shook and quivered upon the ice that was cooling his body dangerously. The feeling of flying has been crushed within him as he heard the distant ringing of screaming before realizing that it was him.

"Adam? My God! Adam!" he heard a voice yell into his ear as his helmet was roughly discarded from his head and he curled into a ball, strands of hair matted to his sweaty forehead as his cheek rested against the ice.

And as his head was cushioned onto a lap on one of his fellow teammates and friends Adam Banks fell into darkness.

"…seatbelts on please. We are making our descent into sunny San Francisco, California…"

Adam Banks bolted awake as he sat straight up, back rigid and posture perfect as he heaved in a breath. He looked wearily around him to find himself still trapped in the large plane that had taken him from his home of Minnesota to here, California.

Taking in a deep breath Adam turned to look distractedly out the window as the plane lowered itself through the clouds and the city was shown to him from an aerial view. Just like a bird…no, a duck.

Adam sighed and looked down at his left knee and placed his hand upon the knee and lightly squeezed as he sucked in a breath. Even months after tearing his ACL it still bothered him to the point where was deathly afraid of doing anything hockey or physically related.

He leaned back into his chair and thought back to his home of Minnesota. A home he would not likely see again if his father had anything to do with it. The young man scowled thinking of his overbearing father and how he had but all forced him to come here for the great Saint Francis Memorial Hospital and their 'outstanding' sport medical center. And of course the very prestigious South Beach Academy that was now to be Adam's new home. And going to school in California meant one thing…leaving the Ducks behind. Adam could still plainly see the shocked and outraged looks of his teammates when he had told them the truth that he was moving far, far away. Their voices still echoed in his head as they had told him their goodbyes only hours ago back at the airport in Minnesota.

"Don't forget us Cake-eater."

"You'll be chillin' with my homeboys, Banksie, you gotta represent us Minnesotans."

"I'm going to miss you so much, Adam."

"Adam, remember no matter where you'll go, you'll always be a part of this flock. Ducks fly together, don't forget that."

Adam pushed away the memories of his friends as a light tremble of pain jerked through his body, starting at his kneecap. He looked down at the knee covered by his ever present khaki pants.

The worse thing, all in all, had to be the fact that Adam hadn't stepped foot on the ice in nearly nine months. His torn ACL had been worse than he or his doctor had originally predicted and there was the strong possibility that Adam would never play intense hockey again.

Goldberg had called that irony.

Adam called it cruelty. For what was Adam Banks without hockey? Some weird prepster that actually liked the sweater vests he wore? Every time he had been injured, and he been injured a fair amount, he had never taken it to heart that he could never play again.

His hopes, dreams and virtually his life were shattered and here he was on a plane to California to pick up the pieces. He looked up startled as the plane made its tumultuous landing at the San Francisco International Airport.

He continued to stay seated though as the passengers around him jumped up and started trying to pull their luggage out of the compartments above. Ever so slowly the plane began to clear out till Adam was alone. With a tired sigh the former hockey player stood and ignored the pain in his knee as he slowly threw his backpack over his shoulder and began to walk down the thin aisle to the plane door.

He didn't even bother to politely smile to the stewardess who smiled largely at him and wished him a wonderful time during his stay in San Francisco.

Ha. His time here would be anything but wonderful.

He sluggishly made his way around the airport, all but limping, as he finally came upon the baggage claim. He stood in the sea of people all preparing to pounce on their luggage when he heard the sound of ducks quacking from his pocket.

With an embarrassed blush he dropped his bag and dug through his pockets, pulling out his cell phone. The name of the caller came up clearly.

Charlie Conway.

Of course, leave it to Charlie to call within the first ten minutes of landing. Adam stared at the phone for a few moments before he made a life altering decision. Shoving the phone back into his pocket Adam reached for his suitcase and with some difficulty began walking into his new life.

A life that didn't involve the Ducks.

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Please read and review! I do not own the Mighty Ducks!