Hiya! This is set during D3 and is AU in regards to a lot of the events.
Summary: Adam makes Varsity, Ducks abandon him, Rick Riley beats him up, and Adam runs off. Where does he run to? What does he intend to do? Will someone be there for him? If so who? What happens in the end?
Warning: Mild language. Beatings. Suicidal theme and thoughts. Depression.
Please Read and Review!
"You little punk! How dare you disobey me!"
With each word he followed it with a sharp punch or kick; whichever could reach my beaten collapsed body the easiest. I'd long since given up trying to defend or protect myself. Hell I didn't even bother speaking now. I just let it happen.
"You little shit are you listening to me!" Strong beefy hands roughly grabbed me, by my bruised shoulders and hauled me to my feet.
I felt my legs buckle just as I was slammed harshly into the lockers. A hiss of pain escaped my chapped lips.
A strong hand - different to the ones which hauled me up - held me in place, forcing my battered body to stand. The other hand came and harshly grasped my chin forcing my head upwards. Blearily I opened my eyes to stare into the sneering face of my abuser. My abuser; my teammate; my captain; Rick Riley.
"Listen to me, cos I ain't gonna say this again." His grip on me tightens sending new waves of nausea and pain coursing through my body.
"You do as I say from now on, your body belongs to me, belongs to this team. You're ours. Got it Banksie? There are no Ducks here to help you." Laughter from my left, Cole no doubt, he takes almost as much pleasure in my pain as Riley does dishing it out. Looking at Rick's face I see amusement.
'Oh well so long as my suffering amuses him', I think but don't dare to speak aloud for fear of what he'd do. I have no illusions about just how far he'd go; I found that out after the Ducks pranked us with the ants. I still have the wounds from it.
I'm roughly slammed into the lockers again, seems he noticed my attention had wandered.
"Yeah you're all mine Banksie and you better shape up, cos the Ducks, well they don't want you anymore, they don't care about you and one word from me and Wilson will drop you in an instant, so get this through your little fucking head." His grip on my chin tightens as he leans in close, so close I can smell the onions he had with his lunch. Chocking back a sob and trying not to let my tears fall, I stare into his eyes. "You mine Pet." At the last word he spat in my face; I make no move to try to wipe it off no matter how much it repulses me.
Stepping back, he pulls his hand back and punches me once more right in the face. I fall to the floor. One hand holding my face; I taste blood in my mouth; he split my lip.
I hear the door bang shut and realise that I'm alone.
Shaking, I force my body into a sitting position despite the pain and gently rest against the bottom of the lockers. Trembling I place my elbows on my bent knees and bury my face in my dirty palms as I finally let go. I don't know how long I stay there crying my eyes out and trembling all over.
I only come to my senses when I hear Coach Wilson leaving his office for the night.
'Bastard' is the only thing running though my mind. He must have been there the entire time. He would have been able to hear what Riley was doing in here. He should have come in and stopped it. If I were anyone else he would have done something. No, not if it were still Riley doing the beating, he wouldn't do anything that would jeopardise his players. It barely registers in my mind that I'm one of his players too, because in reality I'm not. I'm not anything anymore.
Riley's right; since I made Varsity; the Ducks don't want anything to do with me. They think I've gone Varsity on them, that I want to be here, that I'm one of them; a stuck-up rich boy bully. Riley's made sure that they think that. Even when I tried to tell them, they just blew me off, how easily they threw me away, thought the worse of me, its like we hadn't even known each other for four years and played together as teammates.
These days the word teammate seems to have lost all meaning.
Hissing in agony, I gingerly lever myself upwards, using the lockers for support. I make my way slowly to the showers which I turn on and step under the luke-warm spray. I don't bother with soap or shampoo; all I do is stand or lean gingerly into the spray and let all the dirt and grime wash away, down the drain.
I need to feel clean. I want to but no matter what I do; I can't. More tears leak out of my puffy red eyes as I try to hold back another sob. Clean. God I miss that feeling, I haven't felt clean since the day I made Varsity.
Trudging out of the water, I hastily shove clean clothes onto my wet body, not bothering to dry myself or look at my body in the mirror. As I jerkily shove my coat on and fumble with the zip, I decide its time to check the condition of my face in the mirror. All I need to do is make sure there's no blood on it and try to minimise the bruised look so I won't be stopped by any concerned Samaritan as I leave.
I barely pay any attention to the exhausted, demoralized, sunken appearance of my face, the way my skin is far too pale and my eyes don't hold any spark of signs of life. Beneath them there are purple bags from my lack of sleep. But I pay no heed to any of that.
All I do now is grab a Kleenex and wipe at my mouth, I dab a little antiseptic around the cut which is one the side of my mouth before shutting my locker. I jam a hat on my head and wrap a scarf around my neck pulling it up to cover my lower face. As long as I keep my head down, which I seem to do nowadays anyway, then nobody should notice my face; I'll be fine to leave.
It's nearly curfew anyway so there shouldn't be many people around. Stepping out into the crisp night air I shiver tremendously, the slight breeze feels like a thousand knives piercing through my worn out body. Moving as swiftly as I can manage, with the majority of my upper body a mass of bruises and cuts, I head towards the car park. My head is pounding; I would have taken something, except I've run out of medicine. I reach my car, despite its sleek newness; I despise it. My Father got it me after he heard I made Varsity, I don't think he's ever been so proud of me. Somehow it doesn't make me as happy as I also thought it would, making him proud of me doesn't really seem to matter anymore. I mean he's my Father, he should be proud of me no matter what I do. Shouldn't he?
I sigh loudly as I fumble with my car keys. I can't seem to focus properly. I definitely should not be thinking of driving in this state but I can't face going back to the dorms and I cannot go on with this any longer. I need to leave.
The pounding in my head and numbness seeping through my previously burning body must be why I didn't hear them until they were on top of me. The first I knew of their presence was when the all familiar insult was shouted out of Goldberg's cheery voice.
"Hey Cake-eater what you doing out here? Where are all ya' Varsity buddies huh?"
Looking up I see I am faced with not only Goldberg but his ever present side-kick Averman whose grinning widely and high-fiving Russ about Goldberg's comment.
Speaking of Russ he opens his own mouth, unable to resist having a jab at me. "Yeah they get bored of you already traitor?" Now there all laughing, Julie and Charlie joining in as they bring up the rear. I guess Captain Duck has decided to return then. Oh joy. Not!
There all laughing now, jeering at me, oblivious to my pain.
I want to scream at them, to yell at them, make them see that I never betrayed them, that they betrayed me, that I had nothing to do with all this, and that all I want is out, out of all of it. That I thought they were my friends and that I wish we still were. But as I watch them I'm beginning to doubt that we ever were friends.
Ignoring them I open my door and begin to ease myself in trying my hardest to prevent a gasp of pain escape my lips.
Oblivious to my discomfort and jerky pain-shod movement I hear them, they're speaking about how unfair it is that I'm leaving campus when it's almost curfew, how it's just typical for a spoilt rich kid like me.
Julie calls out to me as I start the engine. "This is just typical of you, you know that."
She flips me off as I reverse out, almost hitting them in my haste. I gun the engine and speed off, away from them, away from this place, away from my own personal hell. In the rear-view mirror I see them all flipping me off and waving their hands in the air angrily. Except for Charlie, who'd remained oddly silent throughout it all, for a brief moment I think I spot concern on his face before I'm too far away to see them anyway.
Before too long I've come to a stop. Eden Hall, Varsity and the Ducks are far behind me now; I'm back in mine and most of the Ducks home-town. But I'm not in my neighbourhood or anywhere near my house. I can't go there; Dad will demand I return to school or worse want to talk about Varsity and my future hockey career. I don't even want to play anymore. The sports lost all appeal to me. All it does now is cause a whole to appear in my heart. My heart has been torn up and shredded into bits in a matter of weeks. I don't think it's possible to repair it, but it can certainly be broken worse and will be if I stay.
Instead I've come to the lake where I and the original Ducks used to play and muck about. We didn't stick to the actual rules we just came here and hung out, had a laugh, fooled around. They would come here far more often than me, since this is in their neighbourhood more and it was hard for me to convince my Father to let me come. Even after the Hawks injured me in the championships, he still preferred them over the Ducks and tried his best to keep me away from the Ducks even though the Hawks made it clear they hated my guts.
I get out and walk to this bench that I know has two sets of initials carved into it. A small smile graces my lips as I come upon the bench and see the carvings. Despite everything that's happened I still believe the truth of this:
JH + AB MATES 4EVA
"Jesse Hall and Adam Banks mates forever." My voice is raw and my throat chokes up over this simple gesture of friendship.
Not for the first time I find myself wondering if Jesse meant this, he carved it not long after the Pee-Wee Championships, after my release from the hospital. It was my third time down here to hang out with the Ducks, the rest reduced to fighting and squabbling as was normal for them. I still felt like an outsider and found myself sitting on this bench, kind of like I am now and Jesse came over to me. We talked for a while, kidded around and then he carved this. I was shocked that he would do such a thing but at the same time immensely pleased with it, with such a show of friendship.
Sure he and the others had known each other longer but a bond had been formed between the two of us when I went down for the Ducks in the match and afterwards when he came to tell me about the match in the hospital. Sure the others visited but that was only the once and with Bombay.
Jesse, well he came back several other times and even came to my house after I was released. It was Jesse who invited me down here to hang out and Jesse who tried to include me in everything, to make me one of them.
Same thing happened at the Goodwill Games, when I hurt my wrist it was Jesse who hung out with me, who made sure I rested it and kept me company when the others were going on about their upcoming matches and victories. Jesse made sure to include me in their outings and keep me informed of new techniques and drills coach was having them run. He sat beside me in class and helped me change the bandage on my wrist.
Except now I find myself doubting his friendship. When we all got out scholarships to go to Eden Hall, Jesse declined this. We all tried to talk him around but he stood by his decision. He told me; that Eden Hall wasn't for him; that he wouldn't fit in there; and that he couldn't leave his Dad and little brother - Terry. That here is where he was needed and belonged.
I can't help but wonder that if he'd come then maybe things would have been different, that it wouldn't have come down to this, that I'd still have the Ducks for friends. But then again what's to say he wouldn't have turned on me too, I don't think I could have handled that. Its why I haven't spoken to him since I went to Eden Hall, better to leave it as he was a close friend than have him turn on me too.
It's because of Jesse that I'm here right now. Here is where I was happiest; here is my favourite spot in the world. I pull a knife from my pocket; I've had it there for over a week now. In another pocket in a waterproof plastic bag is a letter; a letter which tells all it needs too. There's not much there but then again I haven't got much to say. Funny that, I barely utter a word these days so you'd think I'd be able to write a whole lot more. No such luck. Not that it really matters.
I thought about just leaving, just running away but what good would that do? I've got nothing worth living for so why runaway?
No, tonight I'm leaving; I'm leaving this world behind. Leaving my troubles, my pain and my pitiful excuse of a life behind. There's nothing left for me here and no one will really miss me anyway. They've all left me behind so really this won't affect them, this will be a blessing for them since I'll be out of their lives. As I pull the knife up to my throat I can't help but wonder if anyone of the Ducks will come to my funeral. If they'll even care that I'm dead?
Just as I'm about to pull the knife across my throat, a dark familiar hand darts out and grabs mine wrenching it away from my body. At the same time I hear an even familiar and terrified voice shout out. "Adam, No!"
A hiss of pain escapes me, as my arm is jerked behind me in a firm determined grip. The knife falls from my grasp. Falling to the ground with a dull clink where it lay momentarily forgotten.
Turning to look behind me, I stare directly into worried chocolate brown orbs. Jesse Hall; my old teammate; my friend, at least I hope he still is.
My face crumples as I see him standing here, behind me, out of breath and looking scared out of his wits but also relieved at arriving in time to stop me. Again I feel tears fall out of my eyes as I realise that he's worried for me, that he's relieved I'm okay. I can see the truth in his eyes; Jesse Hall is my friend; he truly cares about me well being.
As I process this, for the first time in a long time I feel hope flood my veins and relief wash through me that this at least wasn't a lie, wasn't false. All thoughts of dying leave me as I realise that one person whose opinion and friendship I valued most truly does care for me. Somehow there was still a bit of brightness in my bleak existence.
I don't know it it's enough or if he'll stay when I explain or if I can manage to tell him but for now his being here was more than enough for me.
Let me know what you think about this and if perhaps I should continue it.
Not sure but I think this is a bit of a ramble.
But I quite like the angst and depressed attitude of Adams here, it's what I was trying to create.
Drop me Review to let me know what you thought of this!