I'm still hunting for a replacement for my 'action star' asterisk thingies.
The slashes look weird. Hmmm... ::thinks:: I suppose I'll try the double
colon this time.
Sarah- Yes...Charlie's making a little bit of progress. I'm glad you liked the chapter.
MDSWitter26- Hehehe...Yep. I delivered 'the kiss' finally. I'm glad it made your day. Lol! I'm glad I made them seem like a plausible couple. That's good to know. Thanks for reviewing, and enjoy the chapter!
Rachel- Aww...I know how it is to lose a review. It happens to me too...Only I rant about it for a long time before cooling off. It really bites. Hehehe...yeah. They kissed. It's exciting. You'll just have to see what happens with Charlie and his anti-pill stance Lol...Yes...He was pretty darn gorgeous in the first season...heck, he's gorgeous in EVERYTHING! I wasn't old enough to watch Dawson's Creek came out; I was only, like, eight or so...My parents didn't think I could handle it. I would've been like "Huh?"...lol...I'm glad you like the Charlie angst. It would be pretty sad for you if you didn't. Whoo! I'm glad you liked the alarm clock and them talking at the same time. Heck, I'm glad you liked the chapter! Thanks for reviewing!
Adriana- Yay! I'm glad you found it hilarious. My attempt at humor isn't lost on you guys...That's good to know. Hee hee. Yay! You liked my comment about Charlie's little crush on Connie! Lol...Yeah...I don't much like alarm clocks either...Hehehe...I hope you slept well.
Emily- Hehehe... ::quirky smile:: Lol...The funny thing is, I've been pondering their relationship for quite some time...My friend Liz and I helped Allie start the Charlie/Julie fic rush. Lol...But Allie helped me to go ahead and go through with it. ::giggles:: I just love Charlie and Julie together...I really do. Lol. Well, I'm glad you decided to go ahead and review. It makes me feel special and loved. ::grins really big-like:: ...I'm glad you like the Charlie angst! We need more of it, I say!
Shanks- Yes, yes, I know..."One Way Ticket" has been greatly neglected, but I'm suffering writer's block for that story. Everything I write, I end up hating. So I'm trying to get my creative juices flowing and figure out where I'm going with it. When I posted it, I didn't think it would get such a positive response, so I didn't really think it through. So now I'm figuring out what I want to do. The ideas I had were stupid, lame, and shameful, so I'm changing it a bit. Lol...but I'll try to speed up the process.
Banksiesbabe99- Lol... ::gasps:: No...Charlie? HAPPY?! No...couldn't be true...You must be mistaken. Heh..."leave things how you found them"? Whoever said that hasn't met me. Lol...I'm just kidding. things will get better. I just need to sufficiently screw up their lives and have my fun first. I'll be so lost when it's over...My life seems to subconsciously revolve around it. Well, thanks for the review! I hope you like this chapter too!
French Chipmunk- Hehe...nope. Still working on the hint. I am very pleased to hear that that chapter was to your liking. Thanks for reviewing!
Brnnttebabe12- Lol...Poor Charlie will be confuzzled. It's "good Charlie, bad Charlie"! Lol... Hehehe....yeah. Enjoy the chapter!
Preciousbabyblue- I'm glad you like the story. I hope that you enjoy this chapter too, and thanks bunches for reviewing!
Katie- Lol...yeah...They're slow. I'm glad you liked Bombay's invisible person comment. Lol...That would be pretty awesome, I must say. Flattering, definitely. I tell you, it's taking a lot to not let my ego swell. I really do love you guys, and I'm thankful you've stuck with me. It's almost been a whole year! Scary, huh?
Disclaimer- I don't own The Mighty Ducks.
-Chapter 58-
Charlie lay on his bed staring at the ceiling. He was bored...He was too awake to sleep, but too lazy to get up.
Letting out a sigh, he rolled off the bed and onto the floor with a solid thud.
After waiting a few moments, he sat up and crossed his legs. What was he going to do, anyway? He was bored, and he couldn't think of anything to rant about...
Sighing again, he grabbed the remote control and began flipping through channels with a sour expression.
He was trying NOT to think about Julie and still find something to do at the same time. He needed to find something, because they were pretending nothing ever happened...It was all in their minds...No spark...nope. None at all.
Luckily they were both good liars.
With a frustrated growl, he flipped the TV off and hurled the remote at the wall. Standing up, he changed into a long-sleeved gray shirt, slipping it over his head as he walked out of his bedroom.
As he passed Bombay, he lazily informed the man that he was going on a walk and would "be back later."
Once outside, Charlie kicked the grass with the toe of his shoe as he walked through the neighborhood. He had some leftover money, so he could get some lunch later on if he got hungry.
Awhile later, he arrived at the diner his mom used to work at. He paused and looked in the window, frozen in his place.
The boy saw his mother's old co-worker Cynthia wiping down the counter briefly while serving lunches around the counter. Summer afternoons had always been their busiest time.
This brought back a flood of memories; he remembered how, when he was younger, he would hang out in the diner with his mom. Cynthia would fix him a sandwich while he sat at the counter, working on his homework.
He felt his eyes moisten slightly as he stood, feet planted to the ground. He longed to see his mother again, but he knew when he stepped through that diner door, she still wouldn't be there.
Once he managed to shake the lead out of his feet, Charlie walked into the diner, listening to the bell ring as it acknowledged his presence. A mild gust of air encircled him as he stepped inside to the familiar surroundings.
Cynthia looked up at him with surprise.
"Hey sweetie. I haven't seen you in awhile. Come here and sit down," she said with a warm smile, beckoning him over as she motioned to an empty stool by the counter.
Charlie nodded obediently and sat down on the stool as she removed her apron and wiped her hands on her dress.
"I just got on my break. How have you been?" she asked, sitting next to him as someone took over her place. Charlie could tell what she was talking about when he saw a sad look in her eyes.
"Okay, I guess," he replied almost automatically.
She patted his shoulder briefly. "I thought you were staying with your father in Montana," she said, not trying to hide the bitterness towards George Conway. She had known Casey since the girl first showed up on the doorstep looking for work. She had been new as well at the time, so the two young women had worked through the years and become close friends. It had been a sharp pain when Casey had died.
"That...didn't work out so well," Charlie said, trying to be as nonchalant as possible. "I'm just staying with my old hockey coach."
Cynthia nodded, deciding not to question him anymore. She could tell he didn't really want to talk about that subject.
"So...How was school? Are you glad it's over?" she asked, trying to change the subject to something more lighthearted.
Charlie shrugged. "Sure, I guess. I passed the ninth grade, so that's a relief."
"That helps sometimes. So how are you holding up?" she asked softly as the two tuned out the rest of the diner.
The boy shrugged slightly again. "I've been better, I guess. Life bites, but oh well. You?" he asked.
"Same, I guess. I just miss her...But I'm sure you know the feeling," Cynthia replied.
"You could say that."
At that, Cynthia was called back to work.
"Sorry to leave you like this, but I really need to get back to work. It was nice seeing you again, Charlie," Cynthia said, putting her apron back on and returning to the other side of the counter.
Charlie nodded and got up, walking to a booth instead of out the door.
He paused again and observed a few distinct markings in the wood. This had always been the booth he had sat in. His mom had nearly killed him when she saw that he had done damage to the booth, but he was easily forgiven.
He sat down on the worn fabric and continued staring at the words, permanently carved into the surface.
He saw his name carved in the handwriting of a ten-year old next to another set of words.
'Ducks forever, 1992'
He stiffened slightly and furrowed his eyebrows, turning away and curling up in the booth, deliberating facing away. Stupid booth...
He crossed his arms on the tabletop and rested his chin on top. His gaze shifted around periodically, watching people order food and mill in and out of the small diner. A mild hustle and bustle surrounding him made it easy to just tune out the world and try not to think of anything.
Charlie closed his eyes and tried to imagine he was younger again, and his mother was there with him. She was fixing lunches and serving drinks at the counter while he sat and watched. She was always considerate of her customers, but she never left Charlie out...
She would hand him a drink as he did homework during the school year or amused himself otherwise in the summer. She even let him help sometimes.
Charlie slowly opened his eyes and let out a shaky breath. He curled up a little more and leaned against the wall, trying to go back in time, even if only for a few moments. While he was in that diner, his mother wasn't dead. His father didn't exist. He didn't hate Bombay. He wasn't angry with his friends. He didn't have a shrink. He wasn't expected to take "crazy-people drugs." He was just Charlie. Casey's son.
He let out another sigh and clamped his eyes shut. He concentrated on breathing and the clamor around him. The teenager concentrated so hard on tuning out the world that he didn't bother to look up when the bell rang.
Fulton was walking by a diner on his way to meet some of the Ducks for a late lunch. He glanced inside and could've sworn he saw...Charlie?
He looked again and saw Charlie huddled in a booth in the corner.
When Fulton looked up at the sign, he discovered that it was "Mickey's Diner," the place Charlie's mom used to work.
Fulton walked through the door, hearing the bell cling above his head. He wanted to make sure it was actually Charlie.
Upon closer inspection, he found out that it was. In fact, he couldn't help but notice what booth it was. It was pretty ironic, but Fulton decided not to approach his friend. He valued having all limbs intact and functioning properly.
After observing Charlie closed off in the corner alone, Fulton decided he should move on. He really wished that Charlie would just tell them what was wrong so they could work it out. But things just don't seem to work out that way...
Eventually, Fulton left the diner and continued on his way, occasionally sending backwards glances behind him.
Only a few minutes later Fulton arrived at a pizza place; he could see the lively forms of some of the Ducks through the window.
When he walked through the door, he heard Portman call him over.
"Hey, man," Fulton said, sitting down next to the other Bash Brother.
When the teenager looked around, he discovered almost all the Ducks were there; the only ones missing were Connie, Guy, Julie, and Charlie. He had seen Charlie a few moments before, and Connie and Guy were on a date, but he didn't know about Julie.
Averman, Goldberg, Russ, and Dwayne were eating pizza and discussing something unknown to Fulton while Ken read a book next to them. Luis was chasing girls around the place, smooth talking and trying to get a date.
Some things never change.
Fulton himself was sitting next to Portman while the latter chowed on pizza and was saying something.
Then Fulton saw Adam Banks sitting at the table silently. On any normal summer, the blonde boy would be sitting with Charlie; but as they were coming to discover, this was no normal summer.
"Yo, Fult? Anyone in there?" Portman asked, waving a hand in front of his friend's face. When he didn't get a response, Portman turned his gaze to Adam. "What's up with Cake-Eater?"
Fulton turned to Portman. "He seems pretty bummed; I think he might still be upset about Charlie," Fulton said, offering his opinion.
"What's up with Conway, anyway?" Portman asked, taking a large bite of pizza.
"Still not sure..." Fulton said with a shrug. He knew about Charlie's father, but that didn't mean he was going to tell; he didn't feel he had the right. "Hey, I'm gonna go see what's up with Banks."
Portman nodded as Fulton got up and walked over to Adam. "Hey, man. You okay?"
"Sure," Adam said with a shrug.
"Why aren't you talking with everyone else?" Fulton asked with curiosity.
"Not in the mood. I guess I'm just thinking," the fair-haired boy said to Fulton.
"About?" Fulton prompted.
There were a few moments of silence between the two teenage boys.
"WHY does he have to be difficult?!" Adam said suddenly, making Fulton jump in his seat. "WHY won't he just tell us what's wrong? It isn't OUR fault, so WHY does he have to hate US?!" the boy ranted with exasperation.
Fulton blinked at him a few times as the table quieted significantly. "Uh, I don't really know..." he said, still surprised at the outburst.
"He says we don't care when HE'S the one who has been pushing US away!"
"Hey, you don't have to justify yourself to us, Banks," Portman said as he took a drink.
Adam got quiet for a minute before standing up and leaving.
The entire group grew quiet and watched as Adam disappeared through the door, masks of confusion etched on all of their faces.
Charlie let out a sigh and stood up from the booth, looking at it as he backed towards the door slowly.
"You leaving?" Cynthia asked, tucking a damp, frizzy curl behind her ear.
"Yeah..." he said, turning his attention to the almost middle-aged woman.
She nodded at him and continued wiping down the counter. "Well, it was good seeing you again, sweetheart. You can drop by anytime."
Nodding and trying to smile, Charlie turned and walked out the door.
Charlie began walking down the sidewalk again and tried to decide what he was going to do. He felt his mood damper when the reality returned to him; his mother was still gone, and she wasn't coming back.
With a sigh, Charlie walked to "The Pond." He couldn't help but feel particularly drawn to it. Winter had passed, and the ice had melted away.
The teenage boy sat on the grass and looked at the water, feeling a calm come over him. He tried to not think of anything; he just wanted to sit.
However, it was difficult to not think about the Ducks. Memories of the pond continued to bombard his line of thoughts against his will. Memories of small children romping on the ice, trying desperately to whack a puck into a goal and failing miserably.
His gaze was drawn to a small group of ducks splashing at the edge of the pond, their feathers twitching occasionally. He heard a quack every now and then as he watched them with subdued interest.
With a scowl forming, he kicked a rock into the water, scattering the ducks into the pond's center. He didn't want to think about the Ducks, and those birds weren't helping! THEY had betrayed HIM first!
He backed into a tree and pulled his knees to his chest. As he saw the ducks in the pond band back together, it only fueled his anger.
Resting his chin on his knees, Charlie kept the deep-set frown on his face...They were the ones who had abandoned him when he needed them...
Letting out a shaky breath, he pulled his legs tighter and focused his thoughts on nothing; just staring forward. He didn't need them now...He would just show them that he didn't need them at all...
Roughly ten minutes later, Charlie heard footsteps in the grass behind him.
"What are you doing here?" he heard a voice behind him ask. It sounded like...
Adam?
Charlie lifted his head to look and see. The boy scowled again. "I think the better question would be what are YOU doing here..."
"And why is that? It's just as much my pond as it is yours. With the way you've been acting lately, it could even be said it's more mine than yours!" Adam said, growing angry himself.
"What?! It is not! You don't even LIVE around here Banks!" Charlie snapped with hostility.
"Neither do you!"
Charlie opened his mouth to say something before it clicked.
He didn't.
He hadn't in months.
Charlie felt his jaw tighten and tried to stop his train of thought right there. He couldn't lose it now. Not now...
Letting out a choppy breath, he looked up at the other boy with malice in his eyes. "Screw you, Banks."
With that, Charlie stood up sharply and started walking off.
When Adam realized that had to do with the whole 'mom died' thing, he let out a frustrated sigh. "Charlie," he started, though he was still mad. "That came out wrong."
At hearing Adam continue, Charlie pivoted, his eyes still angry. "Then how was it SUPPOSED to come out? Huh?!" he demanded fiercely. When Adam didn't respond, Charlie sighed angrily. "Just forget it. It's not worth the breath..." he said, forbidding himself to be vulnerable.
"Look, Charlie, I'm sick of fighting with you all the time! What could POSSIBLY be so bad that you HATE us so much?! How can you POSSIBLY be so angry and malicious because we couldn't keep solid contact? Why does it matter so much? How is it our fault?!" Adam demanded, stopping Charlie in his tracks.
The brown-haired boy turned in place to face Adam. "I don't blame you for what happened there; you had no direct effect on it. But I DO blame you for abandoning me. Would it have KILLED you to call? Would it? I was alone, Banks, and everyday was torture! Each time I thought it couldn't get worse, it did! I thought I couldn't hate my dad anymore, but he proved me wrong! Alright?!" Charlie yelled spitefully, feeling his throat tighten.
"Just tell me what happened, then!" Adam said with exasperation.
"Do you REALLY want to know?" Charlie asked, his voice still raised in sheer anger.
"Yes!" Adam replied impatiently.
"Fine. My dad's in prison for beating me, alright?! That's what happened! Are you SATISFIED now?! Is that what you WANTED to hear?! Is your life COMPLETE now?!" Charlie screamed at him.
Adam's face melted into confusion as he opened his mouth to speak.
"Just...don't talk to me, Adam," Charlie said in a deadpan voice. When the blonde tried to speak again, Charlie interrupted. "Don't."
Charlie turned sharply around and walked away, leaving a very confused Adam behind.
Once arriving home, Charlie flung open the door and stormed up the stairs without shutting the front door behind himself.
The whole way home his head had been pounding with anger and no way to get rid of it. He had been hoping to not have to tell them.
Hearing Gordon's calls from the floor below regarding his entrance, Charlie walked into the bathroom. As always, he closed and locked the door before rummaging in the bathroom drawer for the pocketknife. It always calmed him down.
He grabbed it and unhooked the watch, pulling up his sleeve before turning the blade on his scarred wrist.
Growing so used to using it, Charlie hadn't noticed how he had begun turning to it more and more often. Not all the time; just when it was needed.
The boy slipped to the floor again and concentrated on not thinking about his father or Adam...or the fact that he could expect Adam would tell the Ducks ABOUT his father.
"He could tell the whole freaking world for all I care..." Charlie muttered angrily, adding new cuts to the old.
When finished, he carried out routine by washing off the blade and rinsing his wrist before replacing his bandage and reclasping his watch.
Looking at the now-closed pocketknife in his hand, he ran a thumb over the smooth handle.
Charlie put it gently in the drawer before opening the door, bumping into Bombay.
The boy jumped back startled, eyes wide guiltily.
Bombay jumped too, looking at Charlie.
"Hey Charlie," he said to the boy, only earning a nod in return.
Gordon Bombay noticed Charlie looked tense and uncomfortable as he tried to get past the older man. He only hoped the medication would kick in soon. He still looked terrible.
Charlie bumped shoulders with Gordon, entering his room and shutting the door tightly behind himself.
The teenage boy collapsed on his bed and curled up in a ball, pulling the pillow under his head.
He felt so helpless...As if his life was leaving him behind...
With a few shaky breaths, Charlie clamped his eyes shut again. He couldn't face Adam anymore...Not after that...
He was mad at himself for telling Adam, and mad at Adam for bringing it up. Why couldn't he just leave well enough alone? Why did he have to make it fresh on Charlie's mind?
And just as he was pushing it to the back of his mind, too...
Charlie turned his CD player on as loud as he could and closed his eyes, wanting to just disappear...
Sarah- Yes...Charlie's making a little bit of progress. I'm glad you liked the chapter.
MDSWitter26- Hehehe...Yep. I delivered 'the kiss' finally. I'm glad it made your day. Lol! I'm glad I made them seem like a plausible couple. That's good to know. Thanks for reviewing, and enjoy the chapter!
Rachel- Aww...I know how it is to lose a review. It happens to me too...Only I rant about it for a long time before cooling off. It really bites. Hehehe...yeah. They kissed. It's exciting. You'll just have to see what happens with Charlie and his anti-pill stance Lol...Yes...He was pretty darn gorgeous in the first season...heck, he's gorgeous in EVERYTHING! I wasn't old enough to watch Dawson's Creek came out; I was only, like, eight or so...My parents didn't think I could handle it. I would've been like "Huh?"...lol...I'm glad you like the Charlie angst. It would be pretty sad for you if you didn't. Whoo! I'm glad you liked the alarm clock and them talking at the same time. Heck, I'm glad you liked the chapter! Thanks for reviewing!
Adriana- Yay! I'm glad you found it hilarious. My attempt at humor isn't lost on you guys...That's good to know. Hee hee. Yay! You liked my comment about Charlie's little crush on Connie! Lol...Yeah...I don't much like alarm clocks either...Hehehe...I hope you slept well.
Emily- Hehehe... ::quirky smile:: Lol...The funny thing is, I've been pondering their relationship for quite some time...My friend Liz and I helped Allie start the Charlie/Julie fic rush. Lol...But Allie helped me to go ahead and go through with it. ::giggles:: I just love Charlie and Julie together...I really do. Lol. Well, I'm glad you decided to go ahead and review. It makes me feel special and loved. ::grins really big-like:: ...I'm glad you like the Charlie angst! We need more of it, I say!
Shanks- Yes, yes, I know..."One Way Ticket" has been greatly neglected, but I'm suffering writer's block for that story. Everything I write, I end up hating. So I'm trying to get my creative juices flowing and figure out where I'm going with it. When I posted it, I didn't think it would get such a positive response, so I didn't really think it through. So now I'm figuring out what I want to do. The ideas I had were stupid, lame, and shameful, so I'm changing it a bit. Lol...but I'll try to speed up the process.
Banksiesbabe99- Lol... ::gasps:: No...Charlie? HAPPY?! No...couldn't be true...You must be mistaken. Heh..."leave things how you found them"? Whoever said that hasn't met me. Lol...I'm just kidding. things will get better. I just need to sufficiently screw up their lives and have my fun first. I'll be so lost when it's over...My life seems to subconsciously revolve around it. Well, thanks for the review! I hope you like this chapter too!
French Chipmunk- Hehe...nope. Still working on the hint. I am very pleased to hear that that chapter was to your liking. Thanks for reviewing!
Brnnttebabe12- Lol...Poor Charlie will be confuzzled. It's "good Charlie, bad Charlie"! Lol... Hehehe....yeah. Enjoy the chapter!
Preciousbabyblue- I'm glad you like the story. I hope that you enjoy this chapter too, and thanks bunches for reviewing!
Katie- Lol...yeah...They're slow. I'm glad you liked Bombay's invisible person comment. Lol...That would be pretty awesome, I must say. Flattering, definitely. I tell you, it's taking a lot to not let my ego swell. I really do love you guys, and I'm thankful you've stuck with me. It's almost been a whole year! Scary, huh?
Disclaimer- I don't own The Mighty Ducks.
-Chapter 58-
Charlie lay on his bed staring at the ceiling. He was bored...He was too awake to sleep, but too lazy to get up.
Letting out a sigh, he rolled off the bed and onto the floor with a solid thud.
After waiting a few moments, he sat up and crossed his legs. What was he going to do, anyway? He was bored, and he couldn't think of anything to rant about...
Sighing again, he grabbed the remote control and began flipping through channels with a sour expression.
He was trying NOT to think about Julie and still find something to do at the same time. He needed to find something, because they were pretending nothing ever happened...It was all in their minds...No spark...nope. None at all.
Luckily they were both good liars.
With a frustrated growl, he flipped the TV off and hurled the remote at the wall. Standing up, he changed into a long-sleeved gray shirt, slipping it over his head as he walked out of his bedroom.
As he passed Bombay, he lazily informed the man that he was going on a walk and would "be back later."
Once outside, Charlie kicked the grass with the toe of his shoe as he walked through the neighborhood. He had some leftover money, so he could get some lunch later on if he got hungry.
Awhile later, he arrived at the diner his mom used to work at. He paused and looked in the window, frozen in his place.
The boy saw his mother's old co-worker Cynthia wiping down the counter briefly while serving lunches around the counter. Summer afternoons had always been their busiest time.
This brought back a flood of memories; he remembered how, when he was younger, he would hang out in the diner with his mom. Cynthia would fix him a sandwich while he sat at the counter, working on his homework.
He felt his eyes moisten slightly as he stood, feet planted to the ground. He longed to see his mother again, but he knew when he stepped through that diner door, she still wouldn't be there.
Once he managed to shake the lead out of his feet, Charlie walked into the diner, listening to the bell ring as it acknowledged his presence. A mild gust of air encircled him as he stepped inside to the familiar surroundings.
Cynthia looked up at him with surprise.
"Hey sweetie. I haven't seen you in awhile. Come here and sit down," she said with a warm smile, beckoning him over as she motioned to an empty stool by the counter.
Charlie nodded obediently and sat down on the stool as she removed her apron and wiped her hands on her dress.
"I just got on my break. How have you been?" she asked, sitting next to him as someone took over her place. Charlie could tell what she was talking about when he saw a sad look in her eyes.
"Okay, I guess," he replied almost automatically.
She patted his shoulder briefly. "I thought you were staying with your father in Montana," she said, not trying to hide the bitterness towards George Conway. She had known Casey since the girl first showed up on the doorstep looking for work. She had been new as well at the time, so the two young women had worked through the years and become close friends. It had been a sharp pain when Casey had died.
"That...didn't work out so well," Charlie said, trying to be as nonchalant as possible. "I'm just staying with my old hockey coach."
Cynthia nodded, deciding not to question him anymore. She could tell he didn't really want to talk about that subject.
"So...How was school? Are you glad it's over?" she asked, trying to change the subject to something more lighthearted.
Charlie shrugged. "Sure, I guess. I passed the ninth grade, so that's a relief."
"That helps sometimes. So how are you holding up?" she asked softly as the two tuned out the rest of the diner.
The boy shrugged slightly again. "I've been better, I guess. Life bites, but oh well. You?" he asked.
"Same, I guess. I just miss her...But I'm sure you know the feeling," Cynthia replied.
"You could say that."
At that, Cynthia was called back to work.
"Sorry to leave you like this, but I really need to get back to work. It was nice seeing you again, Charlie," Cynthia said, putting her apron back on and returning to the other side of the counter.
Charlie nodded and got up, walking to a booth instead of out the door.
He paused again and observed a few distinct markings in the wood. This had always been the booth he had sat in. His mom had nearly killed him when she saw that he had done damage to the booth, but he was easily forgiven.
He sat down on the worn fabric and continued staring at the words, permanently carved into the surface.
He saw his name carved in the handwriting of a ten-year old next to another set of words.
'Ducks forever, 1992'
He stiffened slightly and furrowed his eyebrows, turning away and curling up in the booth, deliberating facing away. Stupid booth...
He crossed his arms on the tabletop and rested his chin on top. His gaze shifted around periodically, watching people order food and mill in and out of the small diner. A mild hustle and bustle surrounding him made it easy to just tune out the world and try not to think of anything.
Charlie closed his eyes and tried to imagine he was younger again, and his mother was there with him. She was fixing lunches and serving drinks at the counter while he sat and watched. She was always considerate of her customers, but she never left Charlie out...
She would hand him a drink as he did homework during the school year or amused himself otherwise in the summer. She even let him help sometimes.
Charlie slowly opened his eyes and let out a shaky breath. He curled up a little more and leaned against the wall, trying to go back in time, even if only for a few moments. While he was in that diner, his mother wasn't dead. His father didn't exist. He didn't hate Bombay. He wasn't angry with his friends. He didn't have a shrink. He wasn't expected to take "crazy-people drugs." He was just Charlie. Casey's son.
He let out another sigh and clamped his eyes shut. He concentrated on breathing and the clamor around him. The teenager concentrated so hard on tuning out the world that he didn't bother to look up when the bell rang.
Fulton was walking by a diner on his way to meet some of the Ducks for a late lunch. He glanced inside and could've sworn he saw...Charlie?
He looked again and saw Charlie huddled in a booth in the corner.
When Fulton looked up at the sign, he discovered that it was "Mickey's Diner," the place Charlie's mom used to work.
Fulton walked through the door, hearing the bell cling above his head. He wanted to make sure it was actually Charlie.
Upon closer inspection, he found out that it was. In fact, he couldn't help but notice what booth it was. It was pretty ironic, but Fulton decided not to approach his friend. He valued having all limbs intact and functioning properly.
After observing Charlie closed off in the corner alone, Fulton decided he should move on. He really wished that Charlie would just tell them what was wrong so they could work it out. But things just don't seem to work out that way...
Eventually, Fulton left the diner and continued on his way, occasionally sending backwards glances behind him.
Only a few minutes later Fulton arrived at a pizza place; he could see the lively forms of some of the Ducks through the window.
When he walked through the door, he heard Portman call him over.
"Hey, man," Fulton said, sitting down next to the other Bash Brother.
When the teenager looked around, he discovered almost all the Ducks were there; the only ones missing were Connie, Guy, Julie, and Charlie. He had seen Charlie a few moments before, and Connie and Guy were on a date, but he didn't know about Julie.
Averman, Goldberg, Russ, and Dwayne were eating pizza and discussing something unknown to Fulton while Ken read a book next to them. Luis was chasing girls around the place, smooth talking and trying to get a date.
Some things never change.
Fulton himself was sitting next to Portman while the latter chowed on pizza and was saying something.
Then Fulton saw Adam Banks sitting at the table silently. On any normal summer, the blonde boy would be sitting with Charlie; but as they were coming to discover, this was no normal summer.
"Yo, Fult? Anyone in there?" Portman asked, waving a hand in front of his friend's face. When he didn't get a response, Portman turned his gaze to Adam. "What's up with Cake-Eater?"
Fulton turned to Portman. "He seems pretty bummed; I think he might still be upset about Charlie," Fulton said, offering his opinion.
"What's up with Conway, anyway?" Portman asked, taking a large bite of pizza.
"Still not sure..." Fulton said with a shrug. He knew about Charlie's father, but that didn't mean he was going to tell; he didn't feel he had the right. "Hey, I'm gonna go see what's up with Banks."
Portman nodded as Fulton got up and walked over to Adam. "Hey, man. You okay?"
"Sure," Adam said with a shrug.
"Why aren't you talking with everyone else?" Fulton asked with curiosity.
"Not in the mood. I guess I'm just thinking," the fair-haired boy said to Fulton.
"About?" Fulton prompted.
There were a few moments of silence between the two teenage boys.
"WHY does he have to be difficult?!" Adam said suddenly, making Fulton jump in his seat. "WHY won't he just tell us what's wrong? It isn't OUR fault, so WHY does he have to hate US?!" the boy ranted with exasperation.
Fulton blinked at him a few times as the table quieted significantly. "Uh, I don't really know..." he said, still surprised at the outburst.
"He says we don't care when HE'S the one who has been pushing US away!"
"Hey, you don't have to justify yourself to us, Banks," Portman said as he took a drink.
Adam got quiet for a minute before standing up and leaving.
The entire group grew quiet and watched as Adam disappeared through the door, masks of confusion etched on all of their faces.
Charlie let out a sigh and stood up from the booth, looking at it as he backed towards the door slowly.
"You leaving?" Cynthia asked, tucking a damp, frizzy curl behind her ear.
"Yeah..." he said, turning his attention to the almost middle-aged woman.
She nodded at him and continued wiping down the counter. "Well, it was good seeing you again, sweetheart. You can drop by anytime."
Nodding and trying to smile, Charlie turned and walked out the door.
Charlie began walking down the sidewalk again and tried to decide what he was going to do. He felt his mood damper when the reality returned to him; his mother was still gone, and she wasn't coming back.
With a sigh, Charlie walked to "The Pond." He couldn't help but feel particularly drawn to it. Winter had passed, and the ice had melted away.
The teenage boy sat on the grass and looked at the water, feeling a calm come over him. He tried to not think of anything; he just wanted to sit.
However, it was difficult to not think about the Ducks. Memories of the pond continued to bombard his line of thoughts against his will. Memories of small children romping on the ice, trying desperately to whack a puck into a goal and failing miserably.
His gaze was drawn to a small group of ducks splashing at the edge of the pond, their feathers twitching occasionally. He heard a quack every now and then as he watched them with subdued interest.
With a scowl forming, he kicked a rock into the water, scattering the ducks into the pond's center. He didn't want to think about the Ducks, and those birds weren't helping! THEY had betrayed HIM first!
He backed into a tree and pulled his knees to his chest. As he saw the ducks in the pond band back together, it only fueled his anger.
Resting his chin on his knees, Charlie kept the deep-set frown on his face...They were the ones who had abandoned him when he needed them...
Letting out a shaky breath, he pulled his legs tighter and focused his thoughts on nothing; just staring forward. He didn't need them now...He would just show them that he didn't need them at all...
Roughly ten minutes later, Charlie heard footsteps in the grass behind him.
"What are you doing here?" he heard a voice behind him ask. It sounded like...
Adam?
Charlie lifted his head to look and see. The boy scowled again. "I think the better question would be what are YOU doing here..."
"And why is that? It's just as much my pond as it is yours. With the way you've been acting lately, it could even be said it's more mine than yours!" Adam said, growing angry himself.
"What?! It is not! You don't even LIVE around here Banks!" Charlie snapped with hostility.
"Neither do you!"
Charlie opened his mouth to say something before it clicked.
He didn't.
He hadn't in months.
Charlie felt his jaw tighten and tried to stop his train of thought right there. He couldn't lose it now. Not now...
Letting out a choppy breath, he looked up at the other boy with malice in his eyes. "Screw you, Banks."
With that, Charlie stood up sharply and started walking off.
When Adam realized that had to do with the whole 'mom died' thing, he let out a frustrated sigh. "Charlie," he started, though he was still mad. "That came out wrong."
At hearing Adam continue, Charlie pivoted, his eyes still angry. "Then how was it SUPPOSED to come out? Huh?!" he demanded fiercely. When Adam didn't respond, Charlie sighed angrily. "Just forget it. It's not worth the breath..." he said, forbidding himself to be vulnerable.
"Look, Charlie, I'm sick of fighting with you all the time! What could POSSIBLY be so bad that you HATE us so much?! How can you POSSIBLY be so angry and malicious because we couldn't keep solid contact? Why does it matter so much? How is it our fault?!" Adam demanded, stopping Charlie in his tracks.
The brown-haired boy turned in place to face Adam. "I don't blame you for what happened there; you had no direct effect on it. But I DO blame you for abandoning me. Would it have KILLED you to call? Would it? I was alone, Banks, and everyday was torture! Each time I thought it couldn't get worse, it did! I thought I couldn't hate my dad anymore, but he proved me wrong! Alright?!" Charlie yelled spitefully, feeling his throat tighten.
"Just tell me what happened, then!" Adam said with exasperation.
"Do you REALLY want to know?" Charlie asked, his voice still raised in sheer anger.
"Yes!" Adam replied impatiently.
"Fine. My dad's in prison for beating me, alright?! That's what happened! Are you SATISFIED now?! Is that what you WANTED to hear?! Is your life COMPLETE now?!" Charlie screamed at him.
Adam's face melted into confusion as he opened his mouth to speak.
"Just...don't talk to me, Adam," Charlie said in a deadpan voice. When the blonde tried to speak again, Charlie interrupted. "Don't."
Charlie turned sharply around and walked away, leaving a very confused Adam behind.
Once arriving home, Charlie flung open the door and stormed up the stairs without shutting the front door behind himself.
The whole way home his head had been pounding with anger and no way to get rid of it. He had been hoping to not have to tell them.
Hearing Gordon's calls from the floor below regarding his entrance, Charlie walked into the bathroom. As always, he closed and locked the door before rummaging in the bathroom drawer for the pocketknife. It always calmed him down.
He grabbed it and unhooked the watch, pulling up his sleeve before turning the blade on his scarred wrist.
Growing so used to using it, Charlie hadn't noticed how he had begun turning to it more and more often. Not all the time; just when it was needed.
The boy slipped to the floor again and concentrated on not thinking about his father or Adam...or the fact that he could expect Adam would tell the Ducks ABOUT his father.
"He could tell the whole freaking world for all I care..." Charlie muttered angrily, adding new cuts to the old.
When finished, he carried out routine by washing off the blade and rinsing his wrist before replacing his bandage and reclasping his watch.
Looking at the now-closed pocketknife in his hand, he ran a thumb over the smooth handle.
Charlie put it gently in the drawer before opening the door, bumping into Bombay.
The boy jumped back startled, eyes wide guiltily.
Bombay jumped too, looking at Charlie.
"Hey Charlie," he said to the boy, only earning a nod in return.
Gordon Bombay noticed Charlie looked tense and uncomfortable as he tried to get past the older man. He only hoped the medication would kick in soon. He still looked terrible.
Charlie bumped shoulders with Gordon, entering his room and shutting the door tightly behind himself.
The teenage boy collapsed on his bed and curled up in a ball, pulling the pillow under his head.
He felt so helpless...As if his life was leaving him behind...
With a few shaky breaths, Charlie clamped his eyes shut again. He couldn't face Adam anymore...Not after that...
He was mad at himself for telling Adam, and mad at Adam for bringing it up. Why couldn't he just leave well enough alone? Why did he have to make it fresh on Charlie's mind?
And just as he was pushing it to the back of his mind, too...
Charlie turned his CD player on as loud as he could and closed his eyes, wanting to just disappear...
