FELL ON DARK DAYS.
AUTHOR: No Banksie
EMAIL: slashedgreen@msn.com
RATING: R - USA.
DISCLAIMER.
Fell On Dark Days is an ongoing Mighty Ducks fan fiction project by No Banksie. This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by Steven Brill and by Disney Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. The distribution of this story is for personal use only.
SUMMARY.
Charlie Conway learned the hard way that stepping through the threshold of the proverbial closet was a step he wasn't ready to take, and the lesson cost him his first love, Adam Banks. Nearly a year since they've seen each other, an anxious Charlie anticipates their imminent brawl on the ice and reminisces about their torrid past.
QUICK NOTE.
This story contains the development of a homosexual relationship; in laymen's terms, this is slash. If a relationship between Adam Banks and Charlie Conway goes against your religion's beliefs/makes you feel queasy/disgust you then do NOT venture forth. Fair warning, kids.
I spent many an hour with Bottles (commanding her to do as I say, really) researching NCAA Hockey in the hope of giving accurate dates of games, tournaments, etc; however, I confess there are probably factual errors and I will admit that I alone am at fault for them.
This story is dedicated and devoted to Melissa, my dearest and sincerest confidante. Three cheers for Mandarin Vodka, ugly UNC lacrosse men, and musicals e-v-e-r-y mile. Thank you for all your persistent encouragement and your p-u-r-e love.
FELL ON DARK DAYS
Prologue
Brown University
January 18th, 2001.
Charlie Conway reclined back into the soft leather cushion of his desk chair and rubbed his tired eyes, exhausted and horribly sore after a strenuous five hour hockey practice. He sighed heavily after he dared to peek open one eye and saw that his desk was still cluttered with papers that needed to be revised and rewritten and books that need to be cracked open and memorized before his classes the next day. Introduction to Physics was lying half opened under the newest edition of Sport's Illustrated and for what must have been the hundredth time since he'd returned to the room an hour ago, Charlie picked it up and flipped to the dog-eared page featuring himself and Adam Banks.
They had been that week's feature story, a major surprise to Charlie. The two best friends who'd graduated from Eden Hall Academy the year prior as the Minnesota State Champions for three consecutive years and who had then gone their separate ways on full athletic scholarships to two of the most prestigious Ivy League schools in the nation were finally gracing the pages of Sport's Illustrated.
Charlie skimmed through the article, already knowing the places in the black print he needed to see again. This will be the first time the Universities, known for their fierce rivalries on and off the ice, will have the opportunity to duel with their star freshman players, old friends and Junior Goodwill Games Gold Medalists, Charlie Conway and Adam Banks…The showdown will be an important one for the Brown Bears, who look for a win to tie the Yale Bulldogs as conference leaders…The game will be played on January 19th, 2001 at the Meehan Auditorium at Brown University at 7PM.
Ever since the beginning of September, when the hockey team had been provided with their regular season schedule, Charlie had been sick with dread for the month of January. He'd even circled off the date of the game in a red pen, so that every time he crossed his desk or looked up from studying, his eyes landed on January 19th, his personal Doomsday Date. Seeing that circled reminder daily was enough to drive a man insane, as Charlie could testify. During the past two weeks before the game, Charlie found that his nerves were so badly knotted within him that he couldn't sleep or eat; that his motions of life were barely covering sufficiency.
It was bad enough that he was going to have to face off with Adam, who was not just the best player Charlie had ever played, but Adam had also only gotten better than the last time Charlie had played him. The situation had only got worse when Charlie realized how important this win was for the Bears. But what was probably icing on the cake was that the last time Charlie had seen Adam Banks, the latter had promised to cut Charlie's balls off the next time he saw him.
Needless to say, things between the two 'old friends' were hardly as amicable as the reporter from Sport's Illustrated had portrayed them. In fact, the two had not even laid eyes upon one another since their fall out which had led to a physical fight of Homeric proportions. Charlie had no doubt that when he stepped on the ice the next day that Adam would not hesitate in breaking him down entirely; Charlie knew that when Adam's malicious blue eyes alit upon him, the intense maelstrom of depression he'd been effectively navigating himself through would finally catch him in a swirling vortex of despair and fling him, a walking cadaver, into the nearest straight jacket.
Charlie tipped back his chair and massaged his throbbing temples. Homework, hockey, and morbid depression were once again settling their heavy weights onto his shoulders, and the stress only engendered colossal migraines that usually left Charlie hostage in his bed for hours upon hours. Charlie never mentioned to the hockey trainer that he was plagued by such terrible pain because he knew he might be subsequently benched, so he suffered alone and in silence, sometimes swallowing nearly half his roommate Kevin's bottle of Percocet. Kevin was an all right guy though, Charlie thought, mostly because he was a sophomore on the hockey team and he kept his mouth shut about what went on in the room to the coach.
Just as Charlie rose to search for the precious bottle, Kevin himself strode in the door, an ostensibly drunk blonde on his arm.
"Hey man, where's the Percocet?" Charlie asked as Kevin dropped the blonde on the bed, where she fell into an unflattering position, exposing herself for both boys to see.
"Third drawer on the left of my desk," Kevin instructed, not at all concerned with why Charlie wanted his illegally attained painkiller because he was too busy appraisingly looking over his date. "Can I have the room tonight? I plan on making the most of the night with…her." Kevin's teeth gleamed in the semi-darkness of the room as he lasciviously leered at the girl.
Charlie grabbed the Percocet from the drawer and shrugged. "Whatever man. Have fun." Kevin grinned and slapped Charlie on his shoulder.
"Appreciate it, man," he drawled, his breath rank of marijuana. "Don't even worry about paying me back for that," he said, motioning to the pills clutched in Charlie's hands. "Now get out of here."
Charlie stuffed his homework in his book bag, pulled on his oversized Brown sweater, and hurried through the door. He crept through the dorm to the ground floor, careful not to be seen by anyone else lurking out. Hockey players had a curfew of nine o'clock sharp and that rule was stringently applied before big games; but Charlie had never spent the night in his bed before a game anyway because Kevin always brought a girl back to the room. He said it revved him up for the impending match. Charlie said he was just horny.
Charlie stealthily crept walked to House Undergraduate Library, where he planned to down the rest of the painkillers and then collapse into his favorite of the huge couches in the back of the library. Fuck his Physics homework, Charlie decided; if he got in trouble for not doing it, he would just forge a doctor's note. It had worked before.
With a dull, pounding headache, Charlie snuck past the check out desk and into the science section, which was where he usually passed out. He emptied the Percocet one by one into his dry mouth, and sunk into the chair. As he closed his eyes, a sixteen year old Adam Banks furtively crept into the darkness and began to dance under his eyelids to the pounding beat of his migraine. And then Charlie started to remember…