Disclaimer: I don't own the Mighty Ducks or Eden Hall. Or Chicago City, if you wanna know.

"Deany!"

Dean turned swiftly at the small cry; his face breaking into a grin even though he knew it wouldn't be visible.

"Leonore, sweetpea!" He laughed softly as he gathered the tiny, fragile form to himself, breathing in her unique aroma of warmth and talcum powder. Wrapping her tightly in his arms he stood up and kissed her cheek softly. "Are you glad I'm here?"

"'Course I am!" She pouted indignantly. "I missed you an awful lot."

"And I missed you too sweet." He continued to smile as he looked towards the woman who had brought his sister out to him. "It's okay for her to come home?"

"Only for a few days. She'll need to come back on the 28th."

Dean nodded in understanding, sadness and regret tingeing the glow in his chestnut eyes. She felt her heart move with pity, but these things had to be done.

"You'll be there the whole time, won't you?"

Again he nodded, his gaze never once leaving his sister's small, round face. He reached out and wrapped a dark curl around his finger. "I won't leave her, don't worry." He said softly, then looked back up at the woman and gave a little grin. "Thanks for this, you're being too kind. I know what could happen if you were found out…"

The woman waved her hand impatiently. "Anybody would understand, it is Christmas after all. You'd need a heart of stone to take her away from someone she's so happy with. She needs the break…because you've been a good girl this term, haven't you Leonore?" The little girl in Dean's arms nodded, her loose ebony ringlets bouncing cheerfully.

"Yeah! I was so good, I got three gold stars yesterday!" She grinned and Dean chuckled.

"Three? Imagine that! You must've been very, very good to get those!"

"Oh I was. I finished my work before anyone else, then I got my six times table right, and I even did good in my reading!"

"You mean you did well." Laughed the woman.

"That's what I said." Frowned Leonore, an impish curve to her mouth, her resemblance to Dean startling.

"Well, then, are you all ready to go?"

"Yep, Mrs. Coombe packed my things this morning." The woman who had brought Leonore out smiled and handed Dean a suitcase and a small red coat.

"She'll need that on before you go out if you want her to stay warm…flu over Christmas wouldn't be much fun now, would it?"

He reluctantly put his sister down and knelt to guide her into the tiny jacket. As he reached for the zip and toggles, however, she found his hand and pushed it away, laughing.

"Wait, watch what I can do!" And he smiled in amazement as the little child fumbled at the fastenings, eventually succeeding in securing them herself. She stood and grinned proudly. "What d'ya think?"

"Very good!" Praised Dean, discreetly retying the toggles where she had laced them up incorrectly. He then swung her into his arms, lifted the suitcase with ease and, with a wave to Mrs. Coombe was away, his sister chattering happily.

As he strolled down the street towards the bus stop Leonore leaned back in his arms and pulled off one of the mittens he'd made her wear before stepping from the warmth of the care home. She reached up tentatively and touched his face gently, running her soft, chubby fingers over every feature. Her velvet caresses swept slowly across his eyes, eyebrows, nose, lips and chin and she smiled.

"You've changed."

"Have I?"

"Yep. You're a little older than before."

"I've aged in six months? Hm, this can't be good." She laughed and he smiled at her joy, slowing a little as they reached the bus stop. Setting down the suitcase, he shifted Leonore to his other arm and ran his own fingers across her face. Even though he could see every detail, it was something he always did…it was a way of communicating with his sister. There was practically no way for her to connect with people, so he helped as much as he could by acting as one of her friends would. He was glad she couldn't see the sorrow on his face. Poor little Leonore, born into a world where no one would accept her…not even her own mother.

Dean's father had left when Leonore was just two, with the excuse that he couldn't cope with a blind child. It was only one of the smaller things that had accumulated over the years, however, reflected Dean. The biggest, he supposed, was his mother. She was always drunk and always sleeping around…it was a miracle Leonore was even David Portman's daughter. It was obvious she was, though, as her resemblance to him and Dean was unmistakable. Another reason would be the violence. His mother was a husband beater, constantly lashing out at David in fits of anger or petulance. He bore it well, never retaliating, always patient and loving and never weak or frightened. He tried endlessly to get help for her, but nothing worked…and then one morning he just wasn't there.

Everything had fallen further apart after that. Dean had been forced to take over his father's role because his mother, after discovering the loss of her husband, drank more excessively than before and spent a good deal of her time in a heavy stupor. But he'd received his scholarship to Eden Hall only last year, giving him chances he'd never even dreamed of before.

But what about Leonore? He didn't care what happened to his mother, but he couldn't bear to leave sweet, innocent little Leonore in her dubious care. So he'd passed up the golden opportunity and carried on as he'd always done…until Bombay turned up on his doorstep. Why hadn't he though of it before? Of course Bombay could help.

The resourceful ex-lawyer had found a nice care home for Dean's sister, where she could grow and learn with other blind children, and it was a charity home, meaning no expensive fees to try to pay for. It was too perfect. But with the relief and imminent happiness came a sense of sadness and the feeling that he was betraying his little sister. He was leaving her to the mercy of people she didn't know in a place she couldn't see, couldn't understand. But Leonore, even at five years old, had understood his situation and begged him to go, assuring him in her little, sweetheart voice that she'd be fine and he was to go off and do well in his new school.

And now? She was doing better than he'd ever hoped.

"You've changed too…you're much prettier!" The little child in his arms giggled and tucked herself underneath his chin.

"Love you Deany." She sighed, giving a little yawn.

"Love you too sweetpea." He replied softly, leaning his cheek against her dark head. Yes, some things had changed for the better. No one knew about his life, his parents or his little sister. They all saw big Dean Portman: dumb brute enforcer and handsome macho guy. But that wasn't what he was inside. So he wasn't exactly the next Einstein, but he wasn't heartless either. He'd been hardened as a child, taught not to show emotions, because that was one thing his mother couldn't stand. So he hid his pain and disappointment, kept everything shut away and acted as though his life was just like everyone else's. But he couldn't hide his love for his sister, and he was proud of that. It didn't matter what people said, he wasn't afraid to show the world that one person loved the little blind child, and that that one person was big Dean Portman, dumb brute enforcer and handsome macho guy.

He rose slowly as the bus to downtown Chicago halted at the stop, picking up Leonore's suitcase once more. He boarded, handed over his fare and made his way to the back of the crowded vehicle, finding a window seat and setting the meagre luggage on the one nearest the aisle. Sitting carefully, he shifted his sister a little so he could look into her face. Her large, almost black eyes were open, but she was breathing quietly and steadily. Dean smiled to himself. She'd gone to sleep. Singing a quiet lullaby, he placed his finger over her lids and closed them, softly stroking the long, curling lashes. As the bus rocked into motion and moved off, he kissed her forehead softly.

"I'll never leave you sweetpea."