Summary: Takes place immediately after D2. Virtually a continuation of the Jr. Goodwill Games, with a surprising twist for all. Important note: my previous MD fics have NOT taken place in this context. Enjoy!
Disclaimer: Sadly, no one and nothing is mine.
Author's Note: I'm finally back! Thank you, one and all, for your patience; I'm terribly sorry to have kept you waiting for far longer than even I'd anticipated. And while I know this chapter is shorter than you all deserve after such a wait, I'm afraid it's all I've got. Honestly, at this point, I'm just anxious to get this story finished. And after this update, there's only one more chapter to go, so wish me luck!
The Mighty Ducks: All Stars
Chapter 8: Bumps and Bruises
It was a rough start that awaited the All Star team the following morning. Their schedule that day looked to be a difficult one, with an opening match against a team of more German and Canadian players. This group wasn't as large as the one the All Stars had faced yesterday, but they were quicker and possessed more highly developed skills than their predecessors.
Nevertheless, Gunnar Stahl's All Star team was able to rally around their top two scorers to pull off an exhilarating three-to-two victory.
But the worst was yet to come. There was a reason they had not yet come across many Icelandic opponents, as several of Gunnar's old teammates had joined with a couple of exceptionally burly Russians to make quite a formidable team of their own.
That match was the hardest to date for everyone on the All Star team. The three Icelanders could keep up with their fellows well enough, while Connie and Adam were getting thoroughly mashed in a mess of bigger bodies. And since the entire Challengerz team was big and fast, it was nearly impossible for the larger All Stars to assist their comrades.
The referees had even lapsed on calling penalties, apparently accepting that this was just going to be a very physical game. However, they had no choice but to make a call when a bulky Russian player lined up Gunnar from across the ice and slammed him into the boards, taking special care to rattle the All Star captain's head with his shoulder in the process.
The head ref's whistle blew to stop the play, which was fortuitous as Gunnar had not yet regained his feet after the brain-jarring blow. Gustav was helping to lift his friend off the ice, while Sanderson followed his opponent's retreat to the penalty box with eyes of cold blue fire. There would be hell to pay for that one when he got out!
But as it was, there were more pressing matters of concern. The game was still tied at zero-to-zero with only three minutes left, and Gunnar was moving very slowly on the ice, if not a bit unsteadily as well. The referees were insisting that he sit out for a few plays, or even the remainder of the game, but the stubborn Icelander only waved them off, claiming he could still play just fine. After all, there was no one to substitute for him if he came out. However, his teammates knew it was not a promising sign when their fearless leader motioned Olaf forward to take the ensuing faceoff in his stead. Clearly, he was nowhere near his normally high level of play.
Which meant that now, it was finally Adam Banks' turn to shine and save the day! He thought back to Team USA's first matchup against Iceland, when the prospect of a clean shutout was too repulsive even to consider. So, just as he'd done then, he took firm control of the puck behind Julie's net, blatantly deserting his position on defense, and called upon all the experience he knew to get him down to the other end of the rink in one piece.
Still repeating his first solo success almost to the letter, Banks hugged the right side of the boards as he made his approach. Gustav took care of one brutish enforcer for him, while he spun away from another and closed in fast on the Challengerz goalie. The Viking goalie. His familiarity with Gunnar and Olaf's style of play was one very critical reason why no points had yet been scored.
Adam would have to change things up a bit, use a shot this goalie had not seen from him before. His mind suddenly raced back to his old Pee Wee days as a Hawk, and to all of the more advanced drills Coach Riley had made them learn. Drawing on one he prayed would work, he faked, shot…and scored!
Banks let out a whoop of celebration and threw his hands up high above his head. Even Sanderson high-fived him in congratulations. The All Stars held on to that one-to-nothing lead to win their closest match yet.
In the locker room that afternoon, the mood was decidedly subdued after such a narrow victory bought at a potentially very high price. And the game tomorrow against that team of all USA players was bound to be just as difficult, if not even more so.
No one spoke as the team began to collectively shed their padding, until Connie shattered the silence with a sharp gasp. "Oh my gosh, Gunnar, you're bleeding!"
Gunnar blinked at her numbly before looking down. The inside pads of his helmet were bright red. He reached up to his bare head and did indeed feel a familiar wet stickiness, but Olaf was already there pulling his hand away for a closer look at his friend's injury.
"The bleeding's stopped, but it still looks pretty bad," he commented softly in Icelandic. "Do you want to have a doctor look at it?"
"No." Gunnar reflexively tried to shake his head to indicate the negation, but soon found that to be a bad idea. It throbbed, and he had to bite down on his tongue for a moment to keep the pain from showing on his face. Whether Olaf was fooled or not, was an entirely different matter. "We only have one game left, and I don't want anyone telling me I can't play tomorrow."
"All right," the older teen said hesitantly. "If you're sure."
"Yeah, I'll be fine. I just need to take it easy tonight."
Gustav made no comment; but having understood their conversation, his expression was understandably one of greater concern than his American colleagues who, for their own part, could only hope that they low voices indicated something other than questionable captain.
After such a long and trying day, the All Stars decided it would ultimately be best to have a more subdued evening together and just go see a movie before turning in early.
"How about that one?" Gustav pointed to a title in the Los Angeles Times listings, and the others all tilted their heads to follow his indication. "It looks good."
Olaf agreed. "I'd like to see that, too. It just came out here in America, so it will be a while before we get to see it in Iceland."
"Hmm. Looks like a good gory, shoot-'em-up action flick." Connie threw a questioning look over at Julie, who merely shrugged. "Sure, why not! We've already had our 'girly night,' and it just wouldn't be fair to drag you all to some chick movie."
Sanderson snorted in disgust at the idea. "You wouldn't be able to get us to one of those movies."
Connie just smiled with fake sweetness in reply and batted her eyelashes at him mockingly.
Soon enough, they had all agreed to the choice of movie, with the lone exception of Gunnar.
"You all go ahead, but I'm going to pass," he said. "I don't really think a loud movie would help my headache very much." Truly, the young hockey star from Iceland currently wanted nothing more than to cuddle up in bed with a fresh ice pack.
"That's probably a good idea," Julie encouraged him, fully aware of how much the All Stars would need their team captain well and active in tomorrow's ultimate matchup. Personally, she was feeling rather under the weather herself, with an earache and a bit of a sore throat; but surely it would be a little too odd if she and Gunnar were to both stay behind together. Besides, she was well enough to handle a movie, provided she could still get a decent night's rest before tomorrow.
A few minutes later, after Gunnar had disappeared into his room and the others were on their way out the door, there was a familiar Brrriinng in the air.
Connie dashed back inside to answer the phone, and her face immediately brightened into a wide smile as she identified the caller. "Hi, Coach! Sorry I can't really chat right now, we were just heading out the door. No, no, everything's fine; we're just going to see a movie tonight. The guys want to see some action flick, but that's okay because Julie and I already had our girls' night out. But thanks for checking in again, and we'll see you at our last match tomorrow. Wish us luck!"
And Gordon Bombay could only hang up his dead receiver, feeling as hopelessly perplexed as ever.
