Author's note: Fluff for the holiday weekend. Requested by raphlover2012, and a mild AU/conglomerate of our own head canons. :3 Some of my other stories are hinted at, as well, but nothing really necessary to get the gist of what's essentially a returning home story for the original seven. Thanks for the idea, raphlover2012!
For reference, a revolution is a little over 1.5 years on Earth.
All roads lead home.
"Canard?"
The tan drake peered up, instantly recognizing the voice. He'd been reading over the latest broadcasts on the monitor, scrounging for news of riots that seemed to sporadically show up every now and then.
Hockeydome was no longer a slave planet, and hadn't been for some time. After being on the wrong end of that corrupt society, Canard had managed to escape, but in the process accidentally landed on the doorstep of the Resistance in its stead.
It just wasn't … his Resistance.
But like his previous teammates, this rebellion—settled on the outskirts of the small but formidable slave planet—were strong-willed, resilient former slaves and guards alike, all working tirelessly to end the violent games. Puckworld had been ridden of its Saurian Overlord, and while his former Strike Force was somewhere in another galaxy fighting the vile reptile, Canard had eventually realized it wasn't his fight. Not anymore, at least.
But he'd seen firsthand what happened to prisoners on Hockeydome. Stars, even his teammates had briefly gotten sucked up into that hateful gameplay. But he couldn't—wouldn't—let it happen to anyone else.
So he joined the new Resistance.
Long months passed, and it wasn't really any different than Puckworld's War. Small factions of rebellions, hitting the thugs running the show where it really hurt them: financially.
So, as Puckworld relearned to walk on its own two legs again, Canard stayed on the outer edge of the galaxy, fighting another war that needed winning.
And this time, he got to be there when Emperor Charg was finally defeated. Without a leader, the rest of his entourage quickly floundered.
Within a week of that fateful standoff, the world had been ridden of the decades-long slave trade.
Unfortunately, that also meant that fractions of the emperor's empire tried to reestablish their presence every once in a while. Sometimes with a new leader, and sometimes just a group of nobodies itching for that payday they used to get.
But like a cockroach, Canard was ready to stomp on whatever pitiful idea resurfaced. He might not have been of any use to his home world, anymore, but he'd sure as heck never let another pseudo-Charg force anyone to play their demented version of hockey.
"Are you listening?"
Kazor prompted the former captain again, standing in the doorway of the command center. His large form leaned into the frame, arms crossed tightly. Combined with lion-like features and bloodred eyes, the alien would look downright menacing, if Canard didn't know him better.
After all, he'd been working with the commander for over a revolution and a half, now.
"Yes," Canard confirmed before asking, "What's up?" Despite his words, he turned his head back to the electronic headlines he was scrolling through.
"I've gotten word from Puckworld."
"Hmm," was the drake's noncommittal reply.
"You know, your home?" he added with no change in tone. Canard knew it was sarcastic though. Kazor had been updating him on the end of his homeworld's War for some time now, and every time Canard took the information with a grain of salt.
It didn't matter. None of it did to him, anymore.
"It was the Council, actually."
"That's nice," the former captain said without a hint of austerity. He scrolled through his feed, his attention on the most recent altercation in one of the poorer neighborhoods of the planet. Leave it to those retched Charg-lovers to try and prey on—
"Your team is home."
Canard's finger stumbled on the scroller, his eyes travelling to his companion. "What?" he finally got out.
"The team you saw the day you escaped—"
"Yes, I know what you're talking about," he interrupted, standing up to fully face the lion. "They're home? As in, back on Puckworld?"
"Yes. At least, according to your government officials. They reached out to you because one of your teammates, a Wing—"
"Wildwing?"
"Er, Wildwing, yes—he believed you to be dead."
The tan drake sat down heavily, his eyes drifting to the floor in distant thought. Of course they would think that. He'd been literally snapped into another universe thanks to a dimensional worm. Why would they have ever thought he survived that..?
"Canard."
The duck in question slowly looked back up at Kazor, eyes clouded with a million other thoughts.
"I think it is time you return home."
His thoughts raced faster at that suggestion. Two revolutions had gone by since he'd handed the Mask over to his friend. Did they defeat Dragaunus? Did they realize how they had singlehandedly saved their planet?
Canard's eyes absently flicked to the words on the monitor, a small part of him realizing that he was no longer fighting a war. Any war, for that matter. He was just biding time and finding excuses to stay.
There was nothing left to do here.
"Yes," he repeated, clicking out of the feed. "Perhaps it is."
Ding ding
"I got it," Wildwing called from the kitchen, walking over to the front door. He opened it without checking the camera, and nearly lost his balance at who stood on the other side of the entryway.
Canard, in street clothes, had his hands in his jacket pockets and smiled lightly. "Hey, Wing."
Wildwing's hand was still on the doorsill, his eyes wide and his body a statue as he stared at his best friend.
The true leader of the Strike Force.
The one who had sacrificed his life for theirs.
A blink later and his body finally found the ability to control itself. He bounded up to his friend and pulled him into a tight embrace.
"I can't believe you're here," Wildwing choked out.
Canard returned the hug tightly. "Me either, Wing."
"By the stars, how are you here?" Wildwing asked, stepping back to take in his friend. He appeared to be all in one piece, and aside from slightly longer head feathers, he looked like the same duck he had lost on that fateful day in the Aerowing, years ago.
Canard shook his head, a breathy laugh escaping. "Long story, bud. May I?"
Wildwing realized his rudeness and stepped to the side, allowing Canard entry. "Sorry, of course, come in."
The white drake pressed a button on the door to slide it shut, guiding Canard to the living room near the entryway.
"Nice place," Canard commented.
"Not really my style," Wildwing admitted, gesturing to the couch for Canard to sit at, the white drake following suit. "But it's on the base and well-protected, so I'm not complaining."
Canard let out another chuckle. "Yeah, you all have made quite the name for yourselves, I hear."
Wildwing smiled. "You too, Canard. Though, from what I remember, it's going to take a lot of work to bring you back from the dead."
"Council found me and brought me here, so I'm guessing that's already in motion."
"Wing?"
Both Canard and Wildwing glanced up at the redhead that had entered the room, and was now staring dumbfoundedly at Canard.
"Mal," Canard managed to say, standing up. When he did, his eyes widened.
The redhead appeared the same as he remembered her, though now she was in street clothes and happened to have a rather pronounced stomach.
As she came up to him and hugged him, Canard absently returned the embrace, his eyes still wide. "You're…"
"Yes, with child," Mallory confirmed, letting go to gaze up at him. "How did you escape Limbo?"
Canard stared down at her and back at Wildwing. When he had asked to see Wildwing, the Council told him this address, and had not mentioned any of the other team members. He assumed they had all went their separate ways, but surely this home was not big enough for six of them?
That meant…
"I guess we have a lot to catch up on," Wildwing broke the silence, seeing Canard's confused expression.
Canard's eyes went to Mallory again, who had peered over at Wildwing and smiled. She walked around the couch to come up beside him, and he nuzzled her beak as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders.
"Drake DuCaine, never in a million years," Canard finally muttered, a smile tugging at the corner of his beak. "Wing, you've been busy."
Wildwing glared at him good-naturedly. Mallory smirked as well and said, "I've got to get going. I'll see you when I get back."
"You okay going by yourself?" Wildwing asked, a frown creasing his brow.
Mallory nuzzled his beak again before walking over to grab a coat. "Wing, it's on the base, I'll be fine."
The white drake sighed but nodded. Mallory smiled at him and nodded to Canard. "You better still be here when I return," she stated, to which Canard snickered.
"Sure thing, Mal."
"Bye, guys."
She left out the front door and Wildwing took a deep breath, glancing at Canard. "Can I get you a drink or something?"
"I think I need one after that," Canard joked. Wildwing laughed and walked up to the tan mallard, laying a hand on his shoulder as he navigated them to the kitchen.
"Come on, I'll make us some lunch and we can figure out what the heck has happened to us in the past two revolutions."
Two hours later
"So let me get this straight. You were actually there, that day?" Wildwing asked, sitting atop one of the barstools next to the kitchen island's countertop. A couple empty dishes were next to the pair, their respective cups half-full, but with a full bottle of concoction nearby and waiting to refill them.
Canard, adjacent to Wildwing, heartily laughed. "I was mere feet from you guys! You went under the door and teleported before I could get to you."
"Wow," the white drake mused, his eyes staring at his drink in thought, "That had been pretty early after arriving on Earth, too. Imagine if you had come with us, then?"
The tan mallard shrugged nonchalantly. "To be honest, I think it worked out better this way. I got to help close down Hockeydome once and for all, and you became one amazing leader, like I knew you could be."
Wildwing smiled, but his eyes were clouded with something else. "You were always meant to be the leader, Canard."
"No way," he argued immediately. "I don't have the patience for it!"
A doorbell chime from the entryway stopped the debate further, and Wildwing's grin returned once more. "Let me get that," he said, shelving the conversation and jumping up to open the door.
Canard released a nervous breath, took a swig of his drink, and stood up just as the cacophony of voices filtered through from the other room. Within seconds, however, the kitchen door slid open and Tanya appeared, eyes glazed with tears.
She quickly closed the distance and hugged Canard, and he in turn was smothered in a ton of blonde, bushy hair.
He didn't mind one bit.
"I-I can't believe you're a-alive," she muffled against his chest.
"Can't take me out that easy," he responded with a light laugh. Moving his face out of her hair, Canard saw Duke and Grin standing behind her. Pulling away from the hug, she turned around too, stepping aside.
Duke was next, and offered his hand out to Canard. The tan drake smirked and took it with his own, but pulled the ex-thief into a hug regardless, one that Duke startled at but eventually accepted.
"Glad to see the official ex-thief out and about in the daylight hours," Canard kidded.
The older gray mallard chuckled, slapping him on the back before pulling away from the embrace. "Not so sure I fancy da daylight hours, but after Earth I gotta say I'm enjoyin' all the sunlight I can get."
"Wildwing was telling me," he replied, smiling up at Grin before they both bowed respectively to one another.
"Un. Be. Lievable."
Canard had to crane his neck around the pacifist's frame to peer behind him, but his eyebrows lifted up dramatically at seeing a slightly older Nosedive, arms crossed and staring at him with a lopsided smile.
"Wow," the tan drake finally got out, just as Grin stepped to the side and allowed Nosedive to move closer, "still sporting that ridiculous long hair, huh?"
"Still trying to act way cooler than you are?"
The two male ducks kept a solid stare on each other for a few seconds, before both erupted into warm chuckles. Like Duke, Canard reached his hand out to shake Nosedive's own, but ended up in a tight embrace with the young adult.
"Welcome home," he said.
The tan mallard's grin grew wider. "Thanks, Dive."
"Why don't we head to the living room and catch up?" Wildwing offered, stepping into the doorway leading to the area.
"Only if snacks are included!" Nosedive hollered.
"Some things never change," Canard commented.
Settled comfortably in the living room (if not a little cramped—after all, the house was not built for six adults), the ducks were engrossed as Canard recounted his trip through a dimensional worm, being captured at Hockeydome, and joining another rebellion to win a war clear on the other side of the galaxy.
Mallory came home at some point during the retelling, the others voicing a chorus of greetings and questions regarding the health of the baby she was carrying, since she had apparently been at a doctor's visit.
Canard was still having some trouble wrapping his head around Mallory and Wildwing as lifemates, much less with a child on the way. Wildwing seemed so much more confident than he remembered him on that fateful day, much more weathered and wiser from their adventures on Earth.
Equally, Mallory seemed so much calmer than he remembered her. Of course, much of his time spent with her had been at the Academy, where being competitive was a survival tactic. Perhaps she and Wildwing had rubbed off on one another, to a degree.
She had brought additional snacks home in the way of sandwiches and drinks, which the ducks eagerly took advantage of. Eventually she took a seat next to Wildwing on the couch, one of his hands protectively coming to rest on her protruding stomach.
And he still couldn't wrap his head around it.
"So, enough about me," he declared, taking a hefty swallow of his drink, "tell me about your adventures on Earth. And how did you even get back?" he added as an afterthought. "Kazor told me there was no teleportation tech there."
"They were definitely behind in the tech department, that's for sure," Nosedive agreed, sitting on the other side of Wildwing on the couch. "Let's put it this way: most of their doors were on hinges, and you had to actually push or pull them open."
"Primitive," Canard breathed out.
"Thankfully they still had hockey," Wildwing clarified.
"And comics," Nosedive added.
"And a master engineer to fill in da gaps," Duke proclaimed from his seat on the floor, back against the chair Tanya sat in. She smirked at his comment, her crossed legs purposefully bumping into the ex-thief.
It was at that moment that Canard noticed one of her hands squeezing his shoulder, as well. While Duke was known to be openly tactile in his charm, Tanya was definitely not.
"Wait, are you two..?" Canard asked, pointing at the display of affection for emphasis.
Tanya blushed instantly, but Duke snickered and said, "Yup. Goin' on a few months now."
The tan mallard smiled, shaking his head in disbelief again, but before he could say anything, Tanya held up her hand to show the ring on her middle finger.
Canard spluttered, "Wait, you mean you've been lifemates for a few months? Drake DuCaine, you move fast!"
That caused a chorus of laughs. "They were also together on Earth, Canard," Wildwing explained. "They made it official after we got back."
"Where's your ring, then?" Canard asked, Duke's hands on full display since his arms rested on his bent knees.
"Brotherhood o' da Blade still exists," Duke said with a mild shrug. "I 'ave one, but don't wear it out in public."
"You think they'd try something? I mean, you're a hero." Canard couldn't help but frown. After all the team had been through, never mind saving the entire planet, why would an old crime ring still have it out for their ex-leader?
"I flipped," Duke replied, seemingly understanding Canard's line of thought. "No matter da reasonin', I'm a liability because of what I know."
There was a more tense shift in his movement, enough that Tanya's hand on his shoulder squeezed in reassurance. "Especially wit' my brother taking up da helm." Despite the roughness in his tone, he looked up at Tanya and gave her a small smile, one of his own hands coming up to rest on hers.
"Colin L'Orange? He's still alive? I thought—"
"Despite what da tabloids tell you, no, I didn't kill my own brot'er," the gray mallard interrupted. "He just tried—and failed—to take control."
"Wow." Canard cleared his throat awkwardly. "Sorry, I guess you can't believe everything you read."
"S'alright. All in da past now, right?"
"I tell ya, though," Nosedive interjected, "being famous ain't all it's cracked up to be."
"Fame is impermanent, transient…" Grin spoke up for the first time from his position cross-legged on the floor. "And annoying," he concluded with a deep exhale.
"That's why we're still on the base," Wildwing concurred, his gaze shifting to the redhead next to him. "Not everyone was thrilled with our return."
"Or," Nosedive added, "some we're a little too excited about it, if ya catch my drift."
Canard shook his head in disbelief. After everything his home world had gone through, the thought of its very saviors having to be careful for their own safety seemed absolutely absurd.
There seemed to be a tense silence in the room—a memory of something that definitely did not sit well with the team, and one that Canard was unfortunately not privy to, at least not yet. Deciding to keep the conversation lighter, he smirked and glanced over at Grin and Nosedive. "So, what about you two troublemakers? Find any love on another planet?"
Nosedive outright snorted at that, and Grin deeply frowned at the ex-captain.
"Dive's enjoying playin' the field," Duke answered for him, winking. Nosedive didn't deny it, either, smugly sitting back into the couch with his arms behind his head.
"Well, I do have a lot of catching up to do."
Canard rolled his eyes. "And you, Grin?"
"Happiness is a journey."
"I'll … take that as a no?"
"Wait, Canard—what about you?" Nosedive asked curiously. "Any new love interests from leading the corrupt hockey Resistance? Someone to bring home to Mom and Dad?"
He smiled and started to shake his head, but Wildwing's sudden jolt made him jump. "Canard, your parents! Oh Drake, we have to let them know—"
"Relax," the tan mallard waved him off. "I went to them first." Wildwing let out a big sigh of relief, making Canard laugh. "You're my best friend, Wing, don't get me wrong—but I figured I owed my parents a visit first."
Wildwing made a face at the tan mallard, while both Mallory and Nosedive snickered lightly. Settling into the cushions on his own chair, Canard remembered something and raised his brows.
"In fact, when I went to see them, I actually got to see your parents, too."
"Mom and Dad saw you and didn't say anything?!" Wildwing replied, clearly insulted. Nosedive leaned forward, as well.
"You swore them to secrecy, didn't you?"
Canard had quite the smug grin on his face when he shrugged and said, "Of course."
Nosedive snapped his fingers like he'd had an epiphany. "I knew it!"
His older brother tilted his head at him. "Huh?"
"The other night, when we had dinner! Mom had the biggest grin on her face."
Wildwing's eyes narrowed confusedly. "So?"
"She kept saying it was 'cause she was excited about her grandkid almost being here, but I knew there was more to it than that!"
"Hey," Mallory exclaimed, though there was no real heat to the comment.
Nosedive raised his arms helplessly. "What can I say, I know my mom!"
Both Canard and Wildwing rolled their eyes at that, while Wildwing added for emphasis, "No, you definitely do not."
"But seriously," Canard inputted, "it's pretty cool what they're doing for the city, now."
"Oh, you mean the restoration program they're running?" Wildwing clarified. "Yeah, the Cleaning up Puckworld project is making a lot of headway in not only rebuilding homes, but restoring all our old monuments that got damaged in the War."
A snort came from the teenager. "Yup. Everything's going great except for that horrible acronym."
Thinking about it, Canard couldn't help but let out a breathy laugh. "C.U.P.?"
"Of all the cool names they could've called their organization…" Nosedive trailed off, then sat back into the couch again. "Meh, they didn't have their witty son around to help them out."
"Knowing you, the acronym would've been a curse word," Mallory offered.
"Puckworld is Saved," Duke added with a very cheeky grin.
It took a second to sound out the acronym, but everyone busted out laughing at that.
Remembering his earlier question, Canard returned his focus to the largest mallard in the room (barring stomachs, he supposed). "Mr. Hardwing, you didn't answer the million-dollar question."
Grin harrumphed.
"He's just shy," Nosedive answered for him. That earned him quite the threatening glare, one that would send most drakes screaming in the other direction, if you didn't know Grin well enough.
To dig his grave further, the young blonde reached over and patted the big duck on the head patronizingly. "Come on, Grinster, tell Canard all about your new love on the compound."
"Wait; what?" Canard asked, his face about as confused as his question. "What compound?"
"Grin opened and, uh, runs one of those sustainable communities for dis-uh-placed ducks," Tanya explained. "It's mostly a lot of runaways, but—uh—he's teaching them how to live."
"And defend themselves," Mallory expounded, clearly in agreement with that part of the program.
"It reminds me of an above-ground Brot'erhood," Duke agreed. "And unfortunately, dhere are a lotta homeless ducks 'n' runaways to take care of, after da War."
"Wow," the ex-captain breathed out. "Grin, that sounds amazing. Why wouldn't you want to boast about that?"
"When you build in silence, they do not know what to attack."
There was a long pause from everyone, no one quite up to decrypting that statement.
"Grinster here prefers word of mouth versus blatant advertising," Nosedive finally piped up. "But he's totally skirting around this new teacher he's hired!"
"What's her name again?" Duke asked. "Emily? Evelyn?"
Grin let out a low growl with his exhale.
"Evey!" Nosedive added to the list, a finger curled under his beak in some seriously facetious thinking.
That apparently set Grin off, as he sharply turned his head towards the teenager and corrected, "Evangeline."
Falling right into his trap, Nosedive only snapped his fingers. "Oh. Yeah. That was it." Flopping down next to his brother once more, he grinned when he continued with, "She's a pretty great catch of a girlfriend, that one."
The pacifist's cross-legged position on the floor became something of a defense mechanism at this point, as the gray mallard brought very tight fists to his knees and closed his eyes, seemingly trying to calm himself down via a meditative state.
To add credit to that theory, Grin calmly declared, "She is a female acquaintance."
"Who, by the way, is also a pacifist, and one that he's been spending a whole awful lot of time with—"
"The greatest gift is to give another your enlightenment," the large mallard interrupted. "That is all."
Letting out another light laugh, Canard shook his head. "It's all right Grin, I don't mean to pry. It sounds like you have helped a lot of ducks, though."
"It's a great setup," Wildwing said, eyeing his brother to drop the subject. "It's right on the outskirts of the city, too, so the kids get the best of both worlds."
Mallory sat up—no easy feat these days, Canard imagined—and added, "Grin has even been nominated for the annual Duck of Peace prize."
"What?" Canard exclaimed. "Grin, that's awesome! That's a world-renowned honor."
Even sitting on the floor in his meditative position, the big duck couldn't help but give a small smile at that. He nodded respectfully towards the ex-captain as a sign of thanks, but did not say anything.
Seeing as though Grin was still uncomfortable discussing the more personal details of his life after the Saurian War, Canard brought his attention over to the red-haired duck, looking a little uncomfortable as she tried to reposition herself with Wildwing's assistance.
"So, Ms. McMallard, you still doing anything for the Forces?"
Wildwing had slid a pillow behind her mid-back, allowing the smaller duck to rest against the couch a little straighter. Both of them were delayed at responding to Canard's question.
"I was teaching," she answered as she relaxed again, "but right now I'm on leave."
He nodded with a smile understandably, but felt his mood somber somewhat. "I did hear about your brothers. I'm so sorry."
She was quiet for a moment, staring at her hands in front of her, but eventually looked up. "Thank you. It wasn't all that surprising, considering their involvement in the War, but—"
"—but nothing. They were vital to the end of Dragaunus, and when I got here one of the first things the Council showed me was the memorial they erected in their honor. You should be proud." Canard paused, swallowing a lump in his throat before adding, "I know they would be proud of you."
Her gaze travelled downwards again, an unknown expression flitting across her features. Wildwing seemed to understand it, as he reached over and grasped one of her hands reassuringly. After another beat of silence, she finally made eye contact, eyes glassy but with a tiny smile.
"Thanks, Canard," she said sincerely.
Realizing he had accidentally brought the atmosphere down a few notches, the tan drake cleared his throat after smiling at his old comrade, turning towards the other female of the bunch.
"Tanya, what about you? Still working with the government?"
She blushed, but nodded enthusiastically. "Oh, y-yeah, they've expanded my lab and gave me almost uh-unlimited resources!"
"Whoa. Working on anything interesting?"
"N-not much, really…"
Duke snorted. "Angel, I think ya gotta count dimensional travelin' an' portals as somethin' interestin'."
Canard's eyes widened. "You mean the Saurian's gateway technology?"
"Fu-fundamentally, y-yes. But it's been refined a lot, th-thanks to some help from a k-kid we met on Earth."
"A kid?"
"Ch-child prodigy," she explained.
"Wow." He shook his head. "Before long, we're gonna be able to visit all sorts of new worlds, eh?"
"Hopefully," she nodded. "Eventually, w-we'd like to be able to visit Earth again."
"You want to go back? I thought that place was primitive!"
"There's a lot w-we could, y-you know, share with them."
"Our presence has a lasting effect," Grin concurred. The other ducks seemed to understand the connotation of that statement in a way Canard did not, as worry seemed to wash over the entire team. The tan mallard frowned as he studied them.
A thought surfaced and he asked, "You guys think they're in trouble or something?"
Mallory let out a big breath. "When we were there, Dragaunus pulled a lot of help from other worlds, with the beryllium that he did have. Stands to reason that Earth is now on everyone's radar, and without us there…"
"They could be a defenseless target," Canard finished for her. Mallory nodded, the worry in her demeanor deepening. "Makes sense, then," he concluded, "to continue to protect them."
The conversation trailed off after that, some of the ducks chatting with one another on a quieter scale, before Nosedive loudly declared that a second helping of snacks were needed. Returning to the room with a barrage of sweet and salty treats, the majority of the pile was dumped on the center coffee table before the teenager sat down. Loud crinkling followed as everyone dug in and started opening their picks.
"Hey Taunny, how's your sister?" Nosedive piped up with a mischievous wink, simultaneously crunching on a large chip.
She gave the youngest team member a glare, but answered regardless. "She's engaged, Dive."
A disappointed, "Aw, dude!" escaped Nosedive, even as Canard nearly choked on a sip of his drink.
"Your baby sister is engaged?!"
Tanya laughed. "She's not r-really a baby, anymore, Canard. She's a detective."
His voice couldn't raise anymore if he tried. "What?!"
"A cute one at that!" Nosedive mentioned unhappily.
"You snooze ya lose!" Duke retorted, earning a playful slap from the blonde duck beside him.
"DuCaine, so much has changed…" Canard mumbled through his hand, which had managed to find its way to the side of his beak in bewilderment. His elbow rested heavily on one of his knees when he said, "I'm glad she's doing all right for herself, though. What about your parents?"
She warmly smiled, sharing a brief glance with Duke. "They're doing—uh—well, aside from some c-constant teasing…"
Facetiously shining his knuckles on his shirt, Duke elaborated with, "Well, e'eryone wants da handsome L'Orange line ta continue."
Tanya rolled her eyes exasperatedly, but still blushed.
"I guess there might be more ducklings in the future, then?" Canard asked, grinning at both females of the group.
Tanya nor Duke responded—though Duke looked like the cat that ate the canary—and Mallory snorted. "Let's see how one goes first, shall we?"
The redhead shifted again, her smirk fading. Wildwing instantly sat up.
"Everything all right?"
"Yeah—ow," she hissed, a hand coming to her stomach. Wildwing tensed so much his feathers stood up. Before he could say a word, though, she waved her free hand briefly. "It's fine. It's those fake contractions, I think."
"Let me, uh, g-get you some water," Tanya offered, already standing up and heading to the kitchen before Mallory could decline.
"Need some more pillows?" Nosedive asked, also getting up.
Canard watched on in mild amusement as the team started hovering over the flustered, pregnant commando, helping her get comfortable and repeatedly asking her if she was sure she was all right. It was a wonder that Mallory's well-known temper hadn't already made its grand reappearance.
Even Nosedive—renowned, irresponsible prankster—had sat down on the armrest on the other side of Mallory, adjusting her extra pillows and saying something about protecting the legacy of the Flashblade family.
Eventually, they settled down again, but Canard could not shake how flawless the family dynamics of this team had moved, ensuring that their team member—or ex-team member, he supposed—was doing okay.
So much had changed, and a small part of him was saddened that he could not have been there to been a part of it.
After multiple repeated (and frustrated) calls of, "I'm fine, guys!", the rest of the ducks seemed to accept the glaring redhead's assurances and returned to more trivial conversation topics. Mallory kept ahold of her glass of water, though, and Wildwing kept a protective arm around her shoulders, allowing her to lean into him.
Duke had at one point stolen Tanya's chair during the chaos, and (after some suave persuasion) got the shy blonde to sit in his lap.
Nosedive had firmly planted himself on that armrest next to Mallory, allowing Grin to take his old spot on the couch, next to Wildwing. The big duck looked far more relaxed than he did previously, and Canard had to smirk when he saw the nearly-empty cup of concoction in his hand.
It was so good to be home.
Later
"Any time of the night, you got it?"
"Yes, Mom."
"Oh, burn."
"I—I'm with Dive on this one," Tanya interrupted the banter between the two brothers. "W-we want to be there!"
Mallory, still standing in the entryway to avoid the chilly wind outside, gave the blonde engineer a tight hug. "Tanya, I promise we will let you know."
Satisfied, Tanya released the embrace, allowing Duke a turn for the requisite goodbye hug.
Canard was in succession, with all the other guests giving him a tight squeeze and some form of congratulations on being back home, as well as commands for get-togethers in the future.
Soon, only Canard, Wildwing, and Mallory stood at the entrance to their small house, the former on the front steps and the latter two in the doorway as a few snow flurries began to fall.
"Where are you staying?" the white drake asked.
"On the base, too, where they house the visitors," Canard answered, zipping up his jacket. "So not too far."
"We can call the local taxi—"
"Nonsense," Canard cut off. "I could use the fresh air, honestly." He looked up into the sky, before smiling at his two friends. "I've still got a lot to figure out."
They grinned knowingly at him.
"Take your time with that step," Mallory recommended, "because once Puckworld finds out you're alive, your privacy is long gone."
"I've heard," he said with empathy. "I'll probably stay on the base for a while, anyways—" he paused and smirked, "besides, I've gotta see what this little Mal and Wing duckling looks like."
Mallory slapped his shoulder in jest, while Wildwing opted to simply roll his eyes. They exchanged a chorus of good nights, Wildwing pulling him into a hug first, before Canard gave the redhead his own embrace shortly afterwards.
Just as he was about to let go, Mallory suddenly squeezed extra hard, startling the tan mallard. Wildwing picked up on the change in atmosphere and worriedly asked, "Mal?"
There was a painful intake of air as Canard released the hug, keeping his hands on her shoulders for her own stability as he tilted his head. "You okay?" he asked.
"Okay…" she finally spoke in a strained whisper, "that one might've not been fake."
"That's the fourth one tonight, I'm starting to think none of them were fake," Wildwing chastised, even while hurrying back into the house to grab their coats. "We're going to the hospital," he commanded as soon as he returned.
Canard helped the white drake slip the heavy coat on the still-hunched over Mallory, despite her weak protests to wait and see.
"It's right down the street. It doesn't hurt to get checked out," Canard supplied, earning a thankful expression from Wildwing.
Mallory, meanwhile, groaned. "Great, now I got two worry-warts."
"Come on," her lifemate insisted, walking her down the path lining their front yard, "we're going, end of story."
There was a brief hesitation on Canard's part, but one glimpse from Wildwing told him to follow the two, staying on the other side of Mallory in case another contraction hit en route.
Being on the base, the hospital itself was rather small compared to the city's main medical center, which made check-in a breeze.
Both Wildwing and Mallory were brought into an exam room, with Canard left to wait in the lobby. Of course, both ducks threatened violence on the tan mallard if he tried to contact any of the other team members, as nothing was certain at this point. Considering he hadn't even purchased a communicator yet, it wasn't a hard promise to make to the pair.
So, with that, the tan mallard was left lounging in yet another (far more uncomfortable) chair for the evening. The waiting room was completely vacant tonight, and without a nearby television or even background music playing, admittedly lonely. He managed to find a tethered tablet on a nearby desk to pick up and peruse the latest Puckworld news, at least, allowing him a much-needed recap on the last couple of revolutions' major events.
And some less-necessary information, too, like who were the leading hockey teams of the season.
"Thunderbeak?"
Canard jumped in his seat, realizing he'd dozed off at some point. Blearily gazing up, he saw a female duck standing at the entrance to the main hall, looking at him questioningly.
"Oh," he coughed, standing up and trying to ignore the new crick in his neck, "that's me." He blinked rapidly to get the sleep out of his eyes, then made his way over to her.
She nodded at him. "It's okay, no need to rush. Mr. Flashblade just wanted me to let you know that it was a false alarm."
"Oh," he said again with relief, a hand running through the long feathers on top of his head. "Okay. Um, is she okay?"
"Oh, y-yes!" she responded. Closer inspection concluded that she was a nurse, if her uniform indicated anything, anyways. "Just too much excitement for the evening, the doctor said."
Canard grinned at that.
"They should be out soon." The nurse gave a small bow to the tan drake, a sign of ending the conversation, before she turned to head back towards the exam rooms.
"Thank you, um..?" he started.
She paused at the sliding door just as she badged in to open it. Her cream feathers were a stark contrast to the orange hair she had pulled into a bun, and her bright teal eyes were absolutely striking when she smiled at him.
Understanding his unasked question, she answered shyly, "Danielle."
"Danielle," he repeated, momentarily dazed. Snapping out of it, he mumbled another thanks before the door slid shut behind her. Taking a second to regather his senses, the tan mallard wandered to his seat again, waiting for his two friends to return.
A warm, goofy smile spread across his beak.
Yeah, it was definitely good to be home.
fin
Danielle and mentions of Evangeline are OCs, copyright raphlover2012.