Disclaimer: I don't own the ducks. Shoot.
Notes: Thanks for your reveiws, guys! So far, positive feed-back. Again, thank you!!!
antiIRONY: Yeah, I know that Dean is from Chicago, that's where his mom and step-dad live, his dad lives in Ohio.
"So," Fulton said casually when they were back in their own dorm room, "how long are you going to be in that thing? Is it permanent?" He tried to look relaxed, like his answer wouldn't really mean anything.
Portman looked up from his math studies, Fulton wasn't being useful. "I don't know," he growled, "the doctors say it's most likely permanent. That's what happens when you get into a car drunk and the driver is a pothead." Of course, he was talking about his step-dad.
His dad had always been one to drink, but not as much as him mom's boyfriend. He would always walk in after hockey practices to find his step-dad lying there on the floor, a bunch of old, homemade cigarette butts lying next to his hand. But he really had needed a ride that night, there was a hockey game. God, if only he hadn't been so stupid, he knew that if he got in trouble for being drunk again that they would send him off to live with his dad. But the alcohol relaxed him, and he needed it to get through a game against the Tigers.
Then his mom had left to go out and buy the god-damned groceries and left him all alone with her new husband. He had planned on walking over to the game, since he was no good behind the wheel in his ripe state. Then his step-dad had come stumbling into the room, ranting something about being a better father, a more responsible father. He was off his rocker, but had forced Portman into the front seat of his rusty old pick-up and sped off, going in a completely different direction.
Then the other car hit.
It was dark and no one had their headlights on. Luckily for his step-dad, he walked away with a broken arm. But not Portman, the car had mainly crashed head-on with the passenger's side and injured his legs so severely that it tore too many of the muscles to fix. The judge shipped him away to his dad, which wasn't all that better, since he too, was an alcoholic, a violent one at that. He had been confined to the wheelchair ever since.
"Sorry," Fulton said and went into the bathroom to take a shower. The radio blasted loudly from inside, echoing off the walls and sneaking out the door. As if that wasn't bad enough when Portman was trying to concentrate, Fulton started singing. Loudly.
He tried to count to ten like the anger book had told him too, he must've counted to two-hundred before he started pounding on the door, yelling at Fulton that he sounded like a wounded duck and he would soon become one if he didn't shut up.
Charlie stuck his head in at one point, screaming at Portman to shut up because the rest of the whole entire dorm could hear them. Portman yelled at him to be quiet so he could tell Fulton to shut his trap! That must've lasted for quite a while, because the next person who entered their room was the dean himself.
"Up to the trouble-making AGAIN, I see, Dean," he shouted at him. "Turn down this racket immediately before I give you ALL detentions! And you don't exactly want one on your record now, Portman."
"Then you get the big oaf to stop moaning!" Dean yelled, shoving past Charlie and going down the hall to…somewhere. He couldn't go to Ken and Luis's room, because Ken would be studying and he would again get yelled at. He didn't want to see Adam or Charlie, so he went right by their room, and he certainly didn't want to hear any corny jokes, so he rolled by Averman's room that he shared with Goldberg. He knew that Guy would be in Connie's room, because it was still an hour before curfew and who knew where Julie would be at. Dwayne and Russ walked right by him in the hallway, waving. They were headed toward the staircase.
Anger still flustered inside him, so he took the elevator to the main floor and decided to go for a stroll. That should've taken his mind off things, he thought, shivering to himself in the cold. At least then he couldn't hear Fulton anymore. He rolled down the sidewalk, wondering where in the hell he was going. He soon found himself at the local pond; it had already frozen over for the winter that had just arrived.
He saw someone skating on it, but who would be crazy enough to be at the pond this time of night in almost-freezing weather? Oh yeah, he would. He rolled closer without being seen, it was Julie. She was just skating around in circles absently, like she had no idea what she was doing. Then she fell down, Dean pushed forward to see if she was okay, but stopped when he saw Adam skating out to help her. He helped her up and said, "You okay Julie?" the sweetness in his words was enough to make anybody vomit.
"Were you sp, spying on m, me?" Julie said through shaky breaths.
"I asked if you were okay," Adam said, losing some of the sweetness.
"I, I'm, I'm fine, Adam," she stuttered. It sounded to Dean like she was afraid of him or something.
"Okay, Julie-girl," Adam said, creeping an arm around her waist when she tried to skate away.
"Ad, Adam, please…" she stuttered again, trying to get out of his grasp.
Adam pulled her to him and laid a kiss on her lips. That was enough for Portman to see, taking a walk hadn't made him feel any better, He turned quickly around and headed back to his dorm room, hoping that someone had taken Fulton away and locked him up somewhere.
Then, before he went out of earshot, he heard Julie say something. He couldn't quite make it out, but then he heard a yelp and Adam shouted something at her. "Stupid lover's quarrel," he muttered jealously under his breath. He didn't need to take any more of it.
Dean raced back to his room and the first thing he did was grab the radio in the bathroom and threw it out the window, despite Fulton's many protests. "I never threw your socks out the window, did I?" was his biggest complaint. He went back to his desk to try and understand his math. Fulton stormed out the door, slamming it as he went. Dean could hear him from out the window shouting at him, saying that he had broken the thing in two. He smiled.
Within ten minutes, Julie came into their room, panting and holding her side. She limped into the room, "Where's Fulton?" was the first thing that came from her mouth.
"Nice to see you too, Julie," he said, turning around in his chair.
"Oh," she said, wincing, "hey Portman, where's Fulton? I really need to talk to him."
"He went outside to try and salvage his radio," Portman said with a laugh.
Her brow furrowed, "Well, when he gets back will you tell him to come to my room? It's really," she winced again, holding her side tighter, "really important." She moved to the door again.
"Wait, Julie," Portman said before she put her hand on the knob, "what's wrong? Maybe I can help."
She shook her head, "No, I don't think you can."
"What makes you think I CAN'T? I'm still the same Portman! God, doesn't anybody SEE that?" Portman yelled at her.
She stopped in her tracks, looking quite frightened. She took in a few rattled breaths, building up her courage, and said, "No, you're not the same Portman, so quit trying to act like it, alright? You don't know anything! Not about me or anybody else on the team! It's been half a year since you were in that accident and moved away and now you've come back and think everybody's just going to treat you the same! Well, guess what, a lot has changed that you know nothing about, so just stay out of it, OKAY?" she yelled as best she could.
"Fine!" he yelled back, not even thinking, "Fine! Just leave, go find your precious Fulton, tell him EVERYTHING! Or Adam, I'm sure he knows a hell of a lot more than ME! Because I'm just dumb old Portman, the guy you should just exclude from all your problems, because of course he won't help, he's a gimp!"
"God, you think it's all about you, don't you? I'm not telling you anything not because you're stuck in that stupid chair, I'm not telling you anything because it's none of your damn business!" she hissed at him and slammed the door shut, limping off to go who knows where.
He stared at the door in shock. No one had ever told him that before, except his dad, but he learned not to listen to him a while back. "This is the whole reason I came back to Eden," he said to the door, "to be here with my friends. Now, one's mad at me for making noise, another one's mad at me for throwing his damn radio out the window, and another one's mad because I care about her." He quickly corrected himself, "I mean, she's mad because I'm worried about her. Ducks fly together, right?" He almost felt like waiting for the door to respond. "Shit, I'm going crazy," he mumbled, turning back to do his homework.
Fulton didn't come back until two the next morning, feeling exhausted. He found Portman asleep at his desk, snoring almost as loud as his now-broken radio. He had half a mind to chuck HIM out the same window. If only he knew, if only Portman knew. Julie had told him all about the fight she had just had with Dean. He had pleaded with her, actually gotten down on one knee and begged for the chance to tell Dean what was going on, he needed to know. Someone needed to know. But, like the girl she was, she refused to let him say anything. Wonderful.
Notes: Thanks for your reveiws, guys! So far, positive feed-back. Again, thank you!!!
antiIRONY: Yeah, I know that Dean is from Chicago, that's where his mom and step-dad live, his dad lives in Ohio.
"So," Fulton said casually when they were back in their own dorm room, "how long are you going to be in that thing? Is it permanent?" He tried to look relaxed, like his answer wouldn't really mean anything.
Portman looked up from his math studies, Fulton wasn't being useful. "I don't know," he growled, "the doctors say it's most likely permanent. That's what happens when you get into a car drunk and the driver is a pothead." Of course, he was talking about his step-dad.
His dad had always been one to drink, but not as much as him mom's boyfriend. He would always walk in after hockey practices to find his step-dad lying there on the floor, a bunch of old, homemade cigarette butts lying next to his hand. But he really had needed a ride that night, there was a hockey game. God, if only he hadn't been so stupid, he knew that if he got in trouble for being drunk again that they would send him off to live with his dad. But the alcohol relaxed him, and he needed it to get through a game against the Tigers.
Then his mom had left to go out and buy the god-damned groceries and left him all alone with her new husband. He had planned on walking over to the game, since he was no good behind the wheel in his ripe state. Then his step-dad had come stumbling into the room, ranting something about being a better father, a more responsible father. He was off his rocker, but had forced Portman into the front seat of his rusty old pick-up and sped off, going in a completely different direction.
Then the other car hit.
It was dark and no one had their headlights on. Luckily for his step-dad, he walked away with a broken arm. But not Portman, the car had mainly crashed head-on with the passenger's side and injured his legs so severely that it tore too many of the muscles to fix. The judge shipped him away to his dad, which wasn't all that better, since he too, was an alcoholic, a violent one at that. He had been confined to the wheelchair ever since.
"Sorry," Fulton said and went into the bathroom to take a shower. The radio blasted loudly from inside, echoing off the walls and sneaking out the door. As if that wasn't bad enough when Portman was trying to concentrate, Fulton started singing. Loudly.
He tried to count to ten like the anger book had told him too, he must've counted to two-hundred before he started pounding on the door, yelling at Fulton that he sounded like a wounded duck and he would soon become one if he didn't shut up.
Charlie stuck his head in at one point, screaming at Portman to shut up because the rest of the whole entire dorm could hear them. Portman yelled at him to be quiet so he could tell Fulton to shut his trap! That must've lasted for quite a while, because the next person who entered their room was the dean himself.
"Up to the trouble-making AGAIN, I see, Dean," he shouted at him. "Turn down this racket immediately before I give you ALL detentions! And you don't exactly want one on your record now, Portman."
"Then you get the big oaf to stop moaning!" Dean yelled, shoving past Charlie and going down the hall to…somewhere. He couldn't go to Ken and Luis's room, because Ken would be studying and he would again get yelled at. He didn't want to see Adam or Charlie, so he went right by their room, and he certainly didn't want to hear any corny jokes, so he rolled by Averman's room that he shared with Goldberg. He knew that Guy would be in Connie's room, because it was still an hour before curfew and who knew where Julie would be at. Dwayne and Russ walked right by him in the hallway, waving. They were headed toward the staircase.
Anger still flustered inside him, so he took the elevator to the main floor and decided to go for a stroll. That should've taken his mind off things, he thought, shivering to himself in the cold. At least then he couldn't hear Fulton anymore. He rolled down the sidewalk, wondering where in the hell he was going. He soon found himself at the local pond; it had already frozen over for the winter that had just arrived.
He saw someone skating on it, but who would be crazy enough to be at the pond this time of night in almost-freezing weather? Oh yeah, he would. He rolled closer without being seen, it was Julie. She was just skating around in circles absently, like she had no idea what she was doing. Then she fell down, Dean pushed forward to see if she was okay, but stopped when he saw Adam skating out to help her. He helped her up and said, "You okay Julie?" the sweetness in his words was enough to make anybody vomit.
"Were you sp, spying on m, me?" Julie said through shaky breaths.
"I asked if you were okay," Adam said, losing some of the sweetness.
"I, I'm, I'm fine, Adam," she stuttered. It sounded to Dean like she was afraid of him or something.
"Okay, Julie-girl," Adam said, creeping an arm around her waist when she tried to skate away.
"Ad, Adam, please…" she stuttered again, trying to get out of his grasp.
Adam pulled her to him and laid a kiss on her lips. That was enough for Portman to see, taking a walk hadn't made him feel any better, He turned quickly around and headed back to his dorm room, hoping that someone had taken Fulton away and locked him up somewhere.
Then, before he went out of earshot, he heard Julie say something. He couldn't quite make it out, but then he heard a yelp and Adam shouted something at her. "Stupid lover's quarrel," he muttered jealously under his breath. He didn't need to take any more of it.
Dean raced back to his room and the first thing he did was grab the radio in the bathroom and threw it out the window, despite Fulton's many protests. "I never threw your socks out the window, did I?" was his biggest complaint. He went back to his desk to try and understand his math. Fulton stormed out the door, slamming it as he went. Dean could hear him from out the window shouting at him, saying that he had broken the thing in two. He smiled.
Within ten minutes, Julie came into their room, panting and holding her side. She limped into the room, "Where's Fulton?" was the first thing that came from her mouth.
"Nice to see you too, Julie," he said, turning around in his chair.
"Oh," she said, wincing, "hey Portman, where's Fulton? I really need to talk to him."
"He went outside to try and salvage his radio," Portman said with a laugh.
Her brow furrowed, "Well, when he gets back will you tell him to come to my room? It's really," she winced again, holding her side tighter, "really important." She moved to the door again.
"Wait, Julie," Portman said before she put her hand on the knob, "what's wrong? Maybe I can help."
She shook her head, "No, I don't think you can."
"What makes you think I CAN'T? I'm still the same Portman! God, doesn't anybody SEE that?" Portman yelled at her.
She stopped in her tracks, looking quite frightened. She took in a few rattled breaths, building up her courage, and said, "No, you're not the same Portman, so quit trying to act like it, alright? You don't know anything! Not about me or anybody else on the team! It's been half a year since you were in that accident and moved away and now you've come back and think everybody's just going to treat you the same! Well, guess what, a lot has changed that you know nothing about, so just stay out of it, OKAY?" she yelled as best she could.
"Fine!" he yelled back, not even thinking, "Fine! Just leave, go find your precious Fulton, tell him EVERYTHING! Or Adam, I'm sure he knows a hell of a lot more than ME! Because I'm just dumb old Portman, the guy you should just exclude from all your problems, because of course he won't help, he's a gimp!"
"God, you think it's all about you, don't you? I'm not telling you anything not because you're stuck in that stupid chair, I'm not telling you anything because it's none of your damn business!" she hissed at him and slammed the door shut, limping off to go who knows where.
He stared at the door in shock. No one had ever told him that before, except his dad, but he learned not to listen to him a while back. "This is the whole reason I came back to Eden," he said to the door, "to be here with my friends. Now, one's mad at me for making noise, another one's mad at me for throwing his damn radio out the window, and another one's mad because I care about her." He quickly corrected himself, "I mean, she's mad because I'm worried about her. Ducks fly together, right?" He almost felt like waiting for the door to respond. "Shit, I'm going crazy," he mumbled, turning back to do his homework.
Fulton didn't come back until two the next morning, feeling exhausted. He found Portman asleep at his desk, snoring almost as loud as his now-broken radio. He had half a mind to chuck HIM out the same window. If only he knew, if only Portman knew. Julie had told him all about the fight she had just had with Dean. He had pleaded with her, actually gotten down on one knee and begged for the chance to tell Dean what was going on, he needed to know. Someone needed to know. But, like the girl she was, she refused to let him say anything. Wonderful.