HALLO. Here's the 2nd part to Mallory's story. And since I don't want to give anything away, all notes will be at the bottom

Disclaimer: I don't own MD:TAS. If I did, I'd be rich.


"Rise and shine Squirt."

Mallory opened her eyes, not feeling well rested. And under her eyes felt funny. Why did they-?

Then she remembered the conversation she had heard the previous night between her father, grandfather, and brother. She almost started to cry again if her brother hadn't started to talk again.

"What's wrong Mal?" Wesley asked, noticing the sad look on her face. He picked her up, sat on the bed, then set her on his lap. "You look like you didn't get much sleep."

Tears just filled her eyes and she buried her face into his shoulder. "Did you have a bad dream?" he asked, brushing some of her red hair away from her face.

"Why didn't you tell me you were sick?"

Wesley's brown eyes widened, his hand stopping in mid-motion. "What're you-"

"I heard you, dad, and grandpa talkin' last night," Mallory answered. She looked up at him, eyes full of tears. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Her brother was silent for a few moments. "Wes?"

"…do you want to know the honest-to-DuCaine truth?"

Mallory nodded.

"Three years ago, while out on a mission, I came into contact with some ducks that had active TB-"

"Tuberculosis?" Mallory asked, eyes wide.

"Yeah. I came into contact with them during a mission with my team at the time." He ran one hand over his brown, military style cut hair, eyes growing sad. "After that mission, my team and I were all checked for the disease and the medical team didn't find anything. But after a few months, a few of the cadets started to develop symptoms. Even though we'd all been taking the medicine the doctors gave us, a few ducks still got the disease."

He paused, wiping away Mallory's tears that were now freely falling. "So that's what you were taking medicine for when you were on leave that time?" she asked.

Her brother nodded. "I took the medicine the full nine months that was recommended, and the docs couldn't find anything," Wesley continued. "I thought I was home free.

"Unfortunately that wasn't the case. Two years ago, symptoms started that I didn't think much of. Random chest pain, sometimes I had shortness of breath, or occasionally I got really tired for no reason. I didn't even think to go to the doctors. I just thought I was overworked until I passed out one day while practicing on one of the obstacle courses. I fell off a ten-foot wall, flat on my back."

"Is that why you came home for awhile back then?" Mallory asked. "Mom wouldn't let me see you for a week and she made you stay in bed."

"I'm surprised you remember all this."

"It's kinda hard to forget when you aren't home a lot," she pointed out. A sad look just passed over her elder brother's face after she said that. "Wait, if TB's something you can pass, how come no one else is sick?"

"Because the docs made me stay in the Sick Bay for awhile before I came home with Dad, mask on and everything, while I took medicine," he said. "I still have to take medicine, but there's much less of a chance that anyone will get it." He hugged Mallory. "But I think Mom and Dad will still take you to the doctor to get tested."

"…but why didn't you tell me?"

Wes just held onto her tighter. "You were only seven when it first happened Squirt," he said. "And I wasn't officially diagnosed until you were eight. I-I didn't want to worry you Mallory."

They sat in silence for awhile. Then Mallory finally asked, "Does Mom know?"

"Yeah, she's known for a little while now."

Suddenly, a knock on the door alerted the two that someone else was there. "Mallory, are you awake?" their mother's voice asked.

The duckling sniffled a little. "I'm awake Mom," she answered.

"Then come downstairs, breakfast is ready."

They heard their mother's footsteps fade and disappear from the other side of the door.

Wesley sighed. "C'mon Mal," he said, rising from his seat on her bed with the red-head in his arms. "Let's go eat breakfast."

"I'm not hungry."

Her brother sighed. "I know it's a lot to deal with, but we still gotta eat. Besides, breakfast is the most important meal of the day, right?"

With that, he carried his younger sister downstairs for breakfast…

RVRVRVRVRVRVRV

Months passed, as did the moments that were spent doing final things. The McMallard family had traveled to other parts of Puckworld, played numerous rounds of hockey, had snow fights, basically anything that Wesley could think of that he wanted to do over the six-month period that he was given.

Unfortunately, the time would be drawing to a close.

For the last few weeks, Wesley had been in the V.A. hospital, though he technically wasn't a veteran. However, thanks to General McMallard Sr., he was able to be admitted there and be taken care of by the Puckworld Specialist Medical Corps.

Currently, Wesley and Mallory were playing Poker, a game that he had taught her when she was five and they played every time he was home. He soon discovered that he had made a mistake in teaching her card games, because after a few rounds (and a few other games) Wesley discovered that his sister could probably beat all the money out of any cadet in the military.

About the fifth round of Poker started when Mrs. McMallard came in. "Mallory, it's time to go," she told her daughter.

Both of the younger McMallards looked at their mother. "But I don't wanna go," Mallory said. "Besides, I'm kicking Wes' butt at Poker."

Their father and grandfather then stepped into the hospital room. "Sorry Princess, but it's getting late," her father reminded her. "And visiting hours are just about up."

The young red-head looked at her brother, then back to the adults. "Do I have to?" she asked meekly.

Reluctantly, all three nodded.

"But don't worry cadet," her grandfather added. "Your father and I will be here. If anything happens, we'll call."

"…okay," Mallory finally agreed. She really didn't want to leave; there was some nagging feeling in her gut telling her not to go, but she climbed onto the bed her brother was occupying and hugged him anyway. "Night Wesley."

"Good night Squirt."

She was about to get off the bed when her father said, "Why don't you two take a few minutes and talk first? The three of us need to discuss some things with the doctors."

With that, the three left.

Mallory just blinked as she watched them leave. "That was weird," she said.

"Yeah, no kidding," Wesley agreed, ruffling his sister's hair. "Hey Mallory?"

She looked at him. "What's up?"

"Will you forget me when you're older?"

"No way!" she exclaimed. "Why would I?"

Wesley smiled. "Just wondering," he answered. "I haven't been around all the time, since I entered the military when you were three. So I just wanted to know."

She hugged him again. " 'Course not," she said. "Just 'cuz I'm a kid doesn't mean I'll forget you when I grow up."

"Well, in case you do, I want you to remember something."

"What is it?"

"Each forward step we take we leave some phantom of ourselves behind."

Mallory looked at him with a blank face. "What does that mean?" she asked.

He merely smiled. "I didn't expect you to understand it now, but maybe someday, when you're on a team with other soldiers, you'll know then."

"…do you really think I'll make a good soldier?"

"I think you'll make it all the way to Puckworld's Special Forces."

RVRVRVRVRVRVRV

She sat on her bed, just staring at the wall.

Wesley had died at 5 A.M., just hours after they had talked.

His funeral had been a few hours ago. She remembered it, but she felt…numb. There wasn't any clear way to describe it; she had seen the honor guards (who a few had been her brother's friends) carry the casket, which had been covered by Puckworld's national flag. She had heard the bugler play "Taps" and the gunshots from a rifle party. The last thing from the funeral she could clearly remember was the folding of the flag over her brother's casket, then it being presented to her father, who was a four-star general.

That had only taken place about two hours ago. She couldn't believe that Wesley was now gone.

A knock on her door brought her back to awareness. "What?"

"Can I come in Princess?"

Mallory sighed. "Yeah."

Her father opened the door and entered the room. "I know this is a lot to take in," he said, closing the door behind him, then coming over to her bed to sit next to her. "But Wesley was trying to protect you. He didn't want you to know he was sick."

"…I know."

Her father sighed. Then he reached into his coat pocket, pulling out a small box. "I know this is a strange time to give you a gift, but this was requested to be given to you after his funeral," General McMallard said.

Mallory eyed the small package and took it from her father. She opened the lid and her eyes went wide.

Inside was her brother's dog tags, along with another pair. Mallory picked up the second pair and read what was engraved;

McMallard,

Mallory

050988

B-

"From Wesley to Mallory; good luck with the P.S.F."

RVRVRVRVRVRVRV

The female opened her eyes and stared up at the ceiling.

She hadn't thought about Wesley in a long time. According to the Puckworld calendar that Tanya had set up in Drake One, it was close to the fifteen year anniversary of when he had died.

She reached under the collar of her purple T-shirt and pulled out a chain. On it held her brother's tags. Mallory could hear his voice saying, "Each forward step we take we leave some phantom of ourselves behind."

Perhaps he had been right. Since joining the Resistance and becoming a Mighty Duck, she had come to understand what he had meant. With each step that a duck (or person really) took in their lives, they had to learn to leave something behind, whether it was a fear, an actual person, or a memory.

In their case, the team had had to leave Canard behind (in a matter of speaking, since he sacrificed himself.) It was after that and coming to Earth that she really understood his phrase to her.

She fingered the other set of dog tags that were on the chain. 'Good luck with the P.S.F.' was what he had told her.

If only Wesley could see her now.


AN #1 - I did do Army/military research for this chapter since (as previously stated) I don't know much about the Army but the Marines. The funeral comes from what I've seen in media and my grandpa's funeral (he was a WWII vet)

AN #2 - I also had to do a lot of research on TB - apparently there are three types (maybe four, I'm not sure anymore). But the two I was using for this specific story were Latent TB (which can develop into Active) and Active TB. About half the stuff in this story is true, while a smaller part is stuff that I said so they could bend to my will (what fanfic writer DOESN'T do this?)

AN #3 - You can get special military dog tags engraved (if you didn't know this already,) but I wasn't entirely sure what went on them. The only things I know that go on them specifically is the name of the person and blood type

One last thing; Mallory was ten when this started, and I made her about twenty five or so during the current series. So...yeah. She's about 25 on Earth