AN: WOW! Look at all them updates from other authors! I'm so excited! Give me some time guys, and I'll be sure to review each of your stories :)

I know there are tons of angsty Wildwing/Nosedive stories out there and I had promised myself that I wouldn't write one. However, I had a migraine last night. Typically, that happens when I have something creative inside my head that needs to get out. This story, fully formed, is what was clawing its way out of my skull around midnight. There is a second part involving Grin that still needs to be written, but I'm not sure how to handle it. I might not even post it. Grin won't tell me if he wants to use the puck or the feather in his part, so I'll let you vote on it! Tell me which you would rather see used as a very special message in the next chapter: a puck with a particular marking on it, or a very unique feather.

Takes place a day or two after Take Me To Your Leader.

Please, enjoy :)

Edit 7/19- Thanks for the reviews! The missing possessive apostrophes have been added, as well as a few minor tweaks to language.


Duke leaned back in the chair of Drake One, putting his feet up on the controls and folding his arms behind his head. The clock on the massive computer showed 2:06 a.m. Sleep was elusive this night; a huge storm front was moving through California and the change in air pressure kept him alert. The prickling sensation of charged ions in the air wasn't diminished by the fact that he was underground. Instead of staying cooped up in his room and futilely trying to sleep, he'd chosen to come out to Drake One and scan the city for any signs of trouble. If nothing else, he could go out and have a little fun disrupting Anaheim's criminal element.

Grunting and pounding footsteps interrupted the gray drakes search. Wildwing burst through the hallway leading to the bunks, breathing heavily, as if he'd just engaged in some sort of battle. He looked like he'd just leaped out of bed, dressed in only his blue plaid sleep pants and his hair going every which way.

"Wing! What's wrong?" Duke was on instant alert. That crazy look in his team captains eyes was completely abnormal. "Is Nosedive okay?"

The leader didn't acknowledge the question or even Dukes presence. He held his body tense, ready for combat at any second. Unseeing eyes scanned the room. Suddenly, he crouched down and started slinking against an invisible wall, his gaze never remaining in one spot for long. He quickly reached the stairs leading to the platform holding the massive supercomputer and climbed them, constantly looking over his shoulder.

"Wing?" Duke was worried. Something wasn't right here. What had caused the normally collected drake to act like this? He stepped in front of the entranced duck and waved his hand in front of his face, trying to get some sort of reaction.

Suddenly, Wildwing's gaze met Duke's, but the compassionate leader wasn't there. All he saw was a frightened, angry duck, desperate to escape something.

"Disgusting drones," Wildwing growled. "I'll rip all of you apart with my bare hands!" He swung at Duke, attacking.

Instinct saved Duke as he dodged the oncoming blow. He continued to evade attacks, not wanting to retaliate and harm his captain.

"Wildwing, it's me, Duke!" He sidestepped another blow. "What's gotten inta ya?"

"Tin trash," Wildwing snarled as he crouched, arms held wide and ready to pounce. "You'll never keep Puckworld. We'll fight you to the last duck!"

Duke's eye opened wide. Wildwing was sleepwalking and clearly having some terrible nightmare. The realization left him momentarily distracted. Stars exploded in his vision as the insensible leader's fist connected with his jaw, throwing him to the ground.

"Oww," Duke moaned as he rolled over. He could just see Wildwing entering the elevator, the doors closing before Duke could get up to stop him.

"Well, that was strange." Duke shook his head and rubbed his jaw. "Ow. That's gonna leave a bruise."

He quickly checked Drake One to see where the elevator stopped. Rink level. Damn. He couldn't let Wildwing leave the Pond like this. He was likely to hurt himself or someone else and not even know it. It was a matter of seconds before he was in the elevator as well, searching out the goalie before any more damage could be done.

0000

Wildwing stood in the locker room and looked around, finally registering his surroundings. His heart was pounding, adrenaline coursing through his veins. What was he doing in here? How did he get here? The cold sweat dripping down his shoulder blades helped pull his mind back to the physical world.

The white feathered drake groaned as he rubbed his face and ran his hands through his hair, straightening it a little. It'd happened again; this time, he had actually managed to get out of the room he and Nosedive shared. He was still too jumpy to even think about going back down to their secret base. Maybe some time on the ice would calm his nerves and soothe the fear that threatened to take over his psyche once more.

He left the locker room and went to the dressing room. His black skates hung on their hooks above his stall; all of his gear was neatly laid out and ready for the eight a.m. practice later today. Quickly tying the skates on and neglecting socks, he hurried out to the ice. A grass green plastic bucket of pucks rested next to the stick rack in the player box. Not caring whose equipment he grabbed, he snagged the bucket and the closest hockey stick. The pucks were thrown across the ice at the red line, scattering like disturbed water striders.

Images of the Saurian Invasion kept floating before his eyes. The acrid scent of Hunter Drone oil was strong in his nose, despite their absence from the arena.

Wildwing skated around the edges of the rink, holding the stick level in front of himself with both hands. When memories of the destruction turned to images of other ducks trapped in the camps with him, he returned to the pucks. It took a conscious effort, but he mentally projected the image of hunter drones, the machinery he'd been forced to work, and Dragaunus and his saurian henchmen onto the sable scapegoats. Each black disk, impregnated with a foul memory, was hit as hard as possible into the net. He aimed at the crossbar in the back; a loud clink echoing every time vulcanized rubber met metal. The pucks that missed the net entirely banged into the boards with the satisfying volume of a gunshot. Soon, he stopped aiming at the crease and punished the arena boards with a black barrage from center ice. The pucks ran out before his anger did and the shirtless goalie hurled his borrowed stick away from himself, not caring where it landed.

Rage and frustration continued to burn deep inside, driving him near lunacy. This was a battle Wildwing had been fighting for the past four months, ever since they had been stranded on Earth. The whole mess with the Chameleon impersonating Canard only brought the horrible memories to the forefront of his mind. Luckily for him, the trademark Flashblade obstinance kept him from giving in to the stressful madness. The memories took over when sleep came; if he couldn't fall into a restful sleep, he could drive himself to exhaustion for a short time of dreamless slumber.

Leaving the pucks where they lay, the still fearful duck glided to the ice next to one of the goals. Turning around, he skated to the other end of the rink at maximum speed, sliding to a stop before hitting the boards, and reversing direction. He was determined to continue the back and forth drill until his legs collapsed.

0000

Duke had exited the secret elevator in darkness and silence. No trace of Wildwing could be found in the locker room. Not wasting any time, he hurried into the dressing room and towards the arena exit. A pale shadow moved in his peripheral vision, heading towards the rink.

The thief followed, making sure to remain silent and unseen. If Wildwing was still in whatever dream state that made him so frightened and violent, he didn't want to be seen. If worse came to worse, he'd hit his leader with a bola-puck and leave him tied up until he came to his senses.

Wildwing seemed to be fully in control of himself as he scattered a bucket full of pucks across the ice and began skating laps of the arena. Still, Duke wasn't taking chances. A bandit didn't survive as long as he had by taking unnecessary risks. Keeping to the shadows, he slipped into the stands and crouched behind the seats five rows up. As long as Wildwing stayed on the ice or within the rink, he didn't feel the need to interfere with whatever was going on inside his head.

The throbbing in his jaw was a small distraction from the heated puck bashing. He'd have to get some ice on there soon, before it became too swollen. Still, he couldn't leave Wildwing alone until he knew what was going on or if the leader had completely snapped.

Duke was disturbed at the fervent speed with which his team captain pushed himself across the ice. It was obvious from the way he had been hitting the pucks that the drake had returned to his senses. Wildwing was doing this to himself on purpose and he couldn't understand why.

After several minutes of frantic skating, Wildwing tripped over his own blades and crashed onto the cold surface, sliding towards the neutral zone. He lay face down, unmoving, limbs splayed out. Duke rocketed to his feet, ready to rush to his leaders aid; the distraught goal tender pulling himself to his knees stopped the gray drakes approach.

"Canard, you damned fool," Wildwing muttered, staring down at the ice. He leaned forward, supporting his weight with his arms, crying softly.

Seeing his team captain break down like that made Duke uncomfortable. If Wildwing knew someone was watching him, he'd either be embarrassed or furious. The pounding pain in his jaw made Duke think he'd tend towards the latter emotion.

"DAMN YOU, CANARD!" Wildwing shouted into the frozen surface. He rocked back, sitting on his heels and glared at the roof. "Why'd you leave me in charge?" his voice rose in anger, demanding an answer that could never be given. "You should have left us in the camps! We'd have been freed when you destroyed the master tower. You stupid son of a chicken!"

Quiet sobbing echoed throughout the silent rink as the anger finally left Wildwing. Wiping his eyes, he rose and took in the mess on the ice.

Duke froze when Wildwing stood. He was plainly visible if the white drake looked towards the stands. Luckily, the nearly exhausted duck kept his eyes on the ice as he glided to the abandoned stick laying near the face-off circle and picked it up. Once Duke was assured that Wildwing was focused on the task of gathering stray equipment, he slowly worked his way down the stairs and back into the tunnel to return to headquarters. He wanted to be below rink level when the leader returned from his early-morning excursion.

"I'm sorry, buddy." Wildwing's rueful voice floated through the air, whispering to the ghost of his friend. "I know why you did it; I just wish you hadn't."

0000

Funny that there wouldn't be any ice in the freezer of a hockey arena that belonged to ice-loving ducks. Nosedive had probably used the last of it and neglected to refill the ice cube trays, again. Either him or Tanya; she could be more forgetful than Nosedive when focused on a project.

Sighing, Duke grabbed a package of frozen peas and whacked it on the counter a few times to break up any lumps. After pressing the frosty package to his aching beak, he pulled the empty trays and re-filled them with water so there would be ice in the morning. This was definitely not how he had expected to pass the night.

"Oh, I'm sorry." Wildwing's exhausted voice alerted Duke to the fact that he wasn't alone. "Didn't know anyone else would be up."

Duke turned from the refrigerator to face his leader. Quite frankly, Wildwing looked like shit. Sweat made his feathers cling to his skin in dark patches and his hair resembled a mangled feather duster; but, it was his red rimmed eyes that carried all the sorrow and hopelessness of two worlds in them. His strong shoulders slumped under the unseen burden they carried. The distraught leader turned to leave, his bare feet making no sound.

"Sorry to have bothered you," Wildwing muttered.

"Wait," Duke tried. "I was gonna make some coffee. Want any?" He still held the white bag of vegetables to his lower beak while opening the cabinet that contained the coffee filters with his other hand.

Wildwing paused, refusing to meet the gaze of the only other duck awake at this ungodly hour, before nodding and sitting down at the table. He folded his arms on the wooden surface and rested his forehead on them, remaining soundless.

Oppressive silence blanketed the already stuffy room as Duke scooped the aromatic, black grounds into the waiting coffee maker and poured the water in. The gray duck placed two mugs next to the percolator before leaning on the metallic counter and facing his team captain. Stillness reigned, daring anyone to break it with so much as a breath.

As if the storms electrical energy didn't have him on edge enough, he'd just had to witness what amounted to an emotional breakdown for his leader. He didn't know what to do, but he knew Wildwing shouldn't be left alone at the moment. It was easy to forget just how young the goalie was; he normally acted with maturity far beyond his twenty years. Tonight, the facade of a confident, responsible leader had been stripped away to reveal the frightened young drake underneath.

Bubbling and gurgling from the percolating coffee drew his attention back to the task at hand. Just about enough for two cups had filled the carafe, although brown-black droplets still fell from the reservoir above. Steam from uncaptured coffee hissed angrily as Duke removed the pot and filled the cups before the maker was finished.

Duke sat a sea green coffee mug next to the goalie's folded arms before taking a seat directly across from Wildwing. He wrapped one hand around his oversized, black mug, enjoying the warmth from it.

"Wanna talk about it?" Duke shifted the peas around, finding a colder spot to soothe his bruised beak.

Bleary, blue eyes studied the former jewel bandit as the pale feathered duck lifted his heavy head. He slowly swung it back and forth, indicating a refusal to discuss what brought him here. Slowly, white fingers grasped green ceramic and pulled the steaming cup of caffeine along the table to just under the vivid orange beak. Wildwing stared down at the coffee, making no move to drink it.

Duke sipped his brew, being careful not to burn his tongue from the hot liquid. If all Wildwing wanted was silence, he'd be more than happy to comply.

"What happened to your beak?" Wildwing's voice was barely above a whisper, raspy and rough.

Duke's one eye widened a little. He'd been right; Wildwing had been sleepwalking when he'd thrown that punch.

"Eh..." He paused, trying to think of a good excuse. "Tripped over my boots and hit it on a chair on my way to the bathroom." He inwardly winced at the stupid lie. Maybe it was dumb enough to be believable.

"Oh." The questionable pretext was apparently accepted without thought. Finally, Wildwing took a drink, although the motion looked more automatic than purposeful.

"So," Duke tried again. "What's got you up this late?"

"Nightmare."

"Musta been a bad one, to get you worked up like that."

Wildwing's gaze shot from the swirling depths of his coffee to his companions, attempting to discern how much Duke knew. He was instantly defensive, closing off all signs of his inner workings.

"I mean," Duke smoothly continued, "You're really sweaty. Had to be a nasty dream to do that."

Wildwing seemed to accept that answer, but remained guarded. His gaze drifted back to the java filled mug. Ceramic threatened to shatter under the tight grip imposed upon it.

"Wing!" Nosedive ran into the kitchen, looking slightly frantic. "There you are!" He suddenly noticed the other duck in the room. "Oh, hey Duke." The younger Flashblade instantly lightened his worried tone to one of casual greeting when he realized he and his brother weren't alone.

Wildwing looked over his shoulder and gave a weak smile as his brother moved closer. Nosedive was also still in his sleeping attire, which consisted of a red pair of loose gym shorts. His blond locks were matted, but nowhere near as messed up as his older siblings.

"Dude! What are you drinking?" Nosedive leaned over and pulled the coffee away. "Man, I always gotta look out for you. What'd you do without the Dive-man to take care of you, huh?" He quickly went to the sink and poured the freshly brewed beverage down the drain.

"Hah," a half-hearted laugh was forced from Wildwing's throat.

"I just made that, ya know." Duke frowned as he watched Nosedive pull a pan from under the counter and set it on the stove. The youth poured some milk in it, adding a little raw honey, vanilla, and salt before turning on the burner.

Nosedive ignored him as he rinsed out Wildwing's mug.

"Nosedive," Duke began, "What's goin on here? Why are you up?" He was going to get to the bottom of this, no matter what.

"Um... Heh." Nosedive smiled and rubbed the back of his neck. "Woke up and didn't see Wing, so I went looking for him."

"And why would you have to do that?"

Wildwing glared at Nosedive and Duke, not liking where this conversation was going. Besides, he wasn't happy with the way Nosedive had just swooped in and stolen his coffee. That caffeine was his only ticket to staying up the rest of the night and avoiding the nightmares. He almost regretted having pushed himself so hard on the rink; there just wasn't enough energy left to fight his brother or Duke's prying.

"Uh, no reason. Just wanted to know where he was." Nosedive started stirring the slowly warming concoction, keeping the milk from burning on the bottom of the pan.

"You two aren't tellin' me something." Duke leaned back and crossed his arms, bag of frozen vegetables still in one hand.

Both brothers remained silent as Nosedive re-filled the green mug with the warm milk and poured the rest of it into a teal mug for himself. He sat next to his brother, facing Duke but not meeting his gaze. The mug he pushed over was ignored for a moment before being lifted to Wildwing's beak and drank from.

"Hm." This time, the smile that tugged at the corner of Wildwing's beak was genuine and had a little energy behind it. "Just like Mom's."

"Of course!" Nosedive elbowed his brother. "Unlike some ducklings, I paid attention when she tried to teach us how to cook."

Nosedive finally noticed Duke's injury as the gray drake reapplied the makeshift icepack to his jaw.

"Dude! What happened to you?"

At Wildwing's sad gaze, Duke instantly knew his first excuse hadn't been bought. This time, he opted for the truth. Maybe that would get these two talking about what was going on.

"Wing punched me after calling me tin trash and yelling about defending Puckworld." He rubbed his jaw in appreciation for the strength that was wielded against him. "You've got a hell of a left hook, Wing."

"Sorry." The captains eyes squeezed shut and he hung his head in shame. The dreams had been bad, but he'd never harmed anyone before.

"Eh, I knew somethin was wrong. Now do ya mind telling me what it was?"

"I... I..." It didn't seem possible, but the goalie's shoulders sank even lower as his hands fell to his lap and stared at the floor. "I can't remember."

"Really?" Duke was surprised. He'd sure as puck remember a night terror as strong as what he'd witnessed Wildwing having.

"No," Wildwing corrected, relaxing a little bit at Nosedive's hand resting on his back. "I remember. I just-" He shook his head and took a drink, studying the now white liquid in the mug. He took a deep breath and finally looked Duke in the eye. "It's hard to talk about."

"Ch'yeah," Nosedive agreed, taking a drink himself and looking towards the clock on the wall- 3:38.

"Wing, ya gotta get it out or you're going to go nuts," Duke urged. "What I saw tonight, you were dangerous."

"Were you ever in the camps?" Wildwings voice was resigned, the exhaustion palpable.

"Nah. I took food I stole from Dragaunus' supply lines to a couple of camps. Not pretty places." He shuddered at the memory of the maimed, sick, and starving denizens of Puckworld that had been forced into slavery. Every time he had delivered food, he'd tried to take as many with him as he safely could. No matter how many he freed, there were still more left behind to suffer.

Wildwing opened his beak and closed it several times, trying to force the words out, but unable to. Nosedive leaned shoulder to shoulder against his brother, lending support in the physical touch.

"I'm ready to talk about it if you are," he softly encouraged his older brother.

The pale drake took a deep, shuddering breath and let it out, steeling himself for what he dreaded most.

"Nosedive and I were in the camps for fifteen months before Canard found us."

Duke hissed quietly at the length of time they'd been slaves. They must have been captured early on in the invasion. No wonder Wildwing was suffering from these nightmares.

Wildwing frowned and started to say something, stopped, and looked confused, unsure of how to continue.

"I have the nightmares too," Nosedive picked up for him. "Sometimes, they're so real. It's like I'm back in that hell hole and ducks are dieing all around me. There's no escape."

"Wow." Duke had no words to give them. How did you comfort someone who had their life ripped away from them only to be rescued and then watch their liberator vanish into oblivion before being stranded in a foreign universe? Saying it was okay would only be a lie.

"They put a compliance collar on me," Wildwing whispered, his voice barely audible.

"The Saurians?" Duke wasn't sure what Wildwing was talking about.

"No. Flork and Zork, when they kidnapped me. They did it to force me to fix their guidance system."

"Suckers," Nosedive snorted, smiling a little.

"Yeah." Wildwing drained the last of his milk and yawned. "They didn't know I'm an expert at getting those things off."

"Really?" Duke was impressed. Their by-the-book leader apparently had a little hidden larceny in him.

"After all the times those guards tried forcing Nosedive into them? Yeah, I got really good at removing them with just about anything."

Wildwing pushed himself up from the table as he yawned again.

"Going back to bed, bro?" Nosedive asked, finishing off his milk as well.

"Yeah. Might as well try to get some sleep before practice. Hey, change the code on the door again when you come in, would ya?" With that, he vanished from the kitchen.

"That how you two've been keeping this secret?" Duke didn't like the idea of either brother locking the other one in.

"Yeah. Depends on which one of us is sleep walking." The blond drake seemed a little embarrassed at their secret.

"Dive, you two have to find someone to talk to. I'm willing to listen, but I can't offer much help other than a sounding board. You can't keep wandering around at night, ignoring the problem."

"Thanks, Duke," Nosedive smiled. "But we've got each other." He stood to leave as well. "Hope the beak doesn't hurt too much. Trust me, I know how hard he punches!"

"It'll be okay. You get some shut eye. Night, Dive." He returned the teens wave as he watched the retreating back.

Now to figure out how to help those two. He sure as puck wasn't going to tell anyone else about it without direct permission. It was like pulling teeth to get any answers from them tonight and he didn't need to violate their trust. Maybe he could find something online.

The one eyed duck poured himself another cup of coffee after moving the Flashblade's mugs into the sink and returned to Drake One. This time, he searched for something vastly different than criminal activity.


End AN: The symptoms I describe here for Nosedive and Wildwing closely resemble PTSD (post traumatic stress disorder). I figure you can't go through everything they have without it leaving some sort of emotional mark. Lucky for them, they went through it together and can help each other through the difficulties.

The warm milk that Nosedive makes is an actual recipe that I use for when I can't sleep. It's 1 cup milk (preferably raw milk, but that's insanely hard to find), 1 tbsp raw honey (must be raw!), 1 tsp vanilla, and a pinch of salt (preferably celtic sea salt). Mix it all together and warm it up slowly on the stove, stirring constantly to keep it from burning on the bottom or forming a skin on the top. Those ingredients mixed together act like melatonin and really help you fall asleep quickly, even if your mind won't shut up.

Now, don't forget to let me know in the reviews if you want to see a puck or feather for something special in the next chapter!