Chapter 7: One Lost
A/N- Took me long enough, didn't it? -_-' I know, Charlie went to see Hans sometime after the JV-Varsity match, but just because I know it now doesn't mean I remembered it last chapter when I set everything up. Anyway, on with the show ^_^
Dean Buckley isn't even in his office. Coach Orion is. The whole team exchanges glances—are we in more trouble for the game this morning? No, that can't be it... he looks too uncomfortable. Everyone knows it's stupid to look nervous if you're about to deal out punishment.
We all give him curious looks, and he sighs. "Someone please relay this to Conway, Fulton, and Banks," he starts, cautiously. "It's about your friend Hans..."
No. Don't say it. I know immediately what's happened, it's obvious from his tone. Don't say it...
~~~~~
"Kenny... we need to have
a talk."
"Yeah?" Dad doesn't look drunk, so I settle down on the couch and watch him, waiting for him to speak. He's not smiling, and I quickly sober as well. "Is something wrong?"
"Well..." He sighs. "You're old enough now, we need to talk about your parents."
I give him an odd look. "You mean Mom?" He's always avoided my questions about my mom, promising he'd answer someday...
"No, your parents. I'm not really your father... you see... your parents have been dead for a long time."
He always had a gift for being abrupt, but this beats everything! I hardly even hear the rest of what he has to say as the shock sets in.
Dead?
~~~~~
"He died early this morning."
I said don't say it! I never really knew Hans, we met him once when we got back from LA, that was it. But still... and the original Ducks look like they've been collectively slugged in the stomach. Coach actually looks quite shaken himself.
Russ squeezes my hand briefly, seeming to sense my thoughts. I almost shake him away, I want to be left alone, but no sense in that. Not with everything else already falling apart.
*****
We have the rest of the day off. Guy called Charlie's mom, but she doesn't know where he is. Fulton is back—he and Captain Duck had a big bust-up, apparently. Since I have to go find him anyway, the task of informing Banksie has fallen to me.
But I don't want to go. Not yet...
Russ glances at me from the other side of the room. He knows better than to say anything. I've been collapsed on my bed sobbing for the last half hour. Not for Hans, not exactly. Partly for him. Partly for the Ducks, falling apart faster than we can patch ourselves up. Partly for myself, and my own pain...
By now I've run out of tears, but I'm too exhausted to go anywhere. Maybe Russ just sees that I've stopped crying, maybe he can tell I'm calming down. Either way he walks over to me.
"We... should go tell Banks," I manage to choke out. It's the last thing I want to do, but... got to get it over with sometime. Right?
Wrong. "I don't think so. You're a mess." He's probably right, I admit to myself. "Get some sleep. We can go find Cake-eater later."
"But Mrs. Madigan wanted the project by—"
"Screw Mrs. Madigan."
The opportunity's too perfect, no matter what the situation. So what if it makes me feel even worse the second I speak. Jokes, now...? But I can't help myself. "I'm not like that, man..."
He laughs a little. "Good. Wouldn't want competition..." Did he just say what I think he said? "Now sleep."
I must not have realized how tired I really was, because I hardly hear the order before drifting off.
*****
"Ken?"
Russ is shaking me. I don't want to wake up. I can't wake up... it hurts too badly, I want to go back into the unfeeling darkness... no such luck. Russ is being very persistent about getting me up. "What?" I moan, dragging myself into a sitting position with supreme effort. "Lemme sleep..."
"You've been asleep for twelve hours," he explains quietly.
I glance reflexively at the clock. It says 1:27. And it's dark outside. Oh, God.
He isn't finished. "I figured ya might be hungry, so I snuck out and got you some dinner. I hope you like turkey sandwiches..." This last comment is a little sheepish. "I went and talked to Cake-eater, too..."
That completely snaps me out of it. "You what?"
"Figured you weren't in any shape to be goin' over there, so I went to get your project from 'im. Turns out he had his roommate take it over after classes were out. Dunno why he didn't show up though, he didn't look too bad—Ken, man, you there?"
"I... I'm here. Did you tell him about...?" I can't get the words out.
He nods. "You're in bad enough shape without having to talk about it."
I want to scream. Russ, you do too much... And I'm still tired. I want to sleep...
He hands me the sandwich. "You need to eat."
Maybe he's right, I realize. I hardly ate any breakfast and was in no mood for lunch, so basically I haven't eaten anything significant for nearly 30 hours. Maybe that's the problem... that's the last thought that goes through my mind before I black out.
*****
"Exhaustion, mostly. And he didn't eat much yesterday."
I wake up feeling like I got run over by a freight train. For a terrifyingly long moment I can't remember a thing. "What happened?" My voice comes out very weak.
"Ken!"
I open my eyes. It looks like I'm in the on-campus medical building, but looking out the window of the room, I can see that I'm not on campus. I must be in the hospital. What the hell? Russ and Coach Bombay are in the room, both looking at me with identical concerned expressions.
...Coach Bombay?
"How are you feeling?" he asks, frowning.
"Like the whole of Iceland just checked me," I mutter. They haven't answered my question yet. "What happened?"
"You blacked out," Russ supplies. Yeah, I think I got that part. "The doctor said it was exhaustion. Man, Ken, how much sleep have you been missin'?"
"About as much as you." I didn't think it was that bad. But maybe sleep isn't the problem. Maybe it wasn't physical exhaustion...
"Was it Hans?"
I nod weakly in response to Coach's question. "Partly." I want to tell him everything that's happened but I don't trust my voice anymore. Maybe he already knows. Maybe Russ told him.
About how far the Ducks, his Ducks, have fallen.
I want to believe that with Coach Bombay here, everything's going to be alright again. But can it ever be alright? Can we ever recover? I want to sleep. I want to scream. I want to go back to the Ducks, back to the Goodwill Games. I just want to forget this year ever happened... and of course it's not an option.
Russ comes and sits on my bed. "We'll pull through," he promises, as if he read my mind.
Coach nods. "I'm proud of you Ducks. This wasn't an easy transition... especially without Charlie, the rest of you are handling it great." He paused. "I'm sure it's hard to believe that."
Coach, you are a master of understatement.
"I'm going to try to talk to Charlie while I'm here," he continues. "I can't make any promises, but... I'll do my best."
