Disclaimer: How glad am I to be doing this for the last time? I don't own the Mighty Ducks, or Eden Hall. Although if I did I wouldn't have to bother with these annoying disclaimers at the beginning of every chapter.

Notes: This chapter's written in the third person, because it deals with too many people to write multiple first person views. And I was lazy. And the ending wouldn't have worked. And I was lazy. Simple as.

Chapter 10: 'Last Flight of Duck 99'

It was a perfect day, just the kind that heralded the early end of autumn. The sky was a clear translucent blue and the air was brisk and wintry. And yet how could such a beautiful day be so sad?

The Ducks all stood together, united one last time in a moment of grief and need...but not completely united. There was one missing who would never be counted amongst them again. As Fulton gazed at the coffin gleaming brightly in the pale sunlight he wondered again if he could have changed things. If he had seen sooner...if he had protected his friend...would anything be different? His dark hair fell across his face as he bowed his head, hiding the tears of a grief that he wanted to keep private. Beside him stood Dwayne, a half-healed gash marring a face yellow with fading bruises. Tears streaked his face also, but he made no attempt to conceal them. He blamed himself for this. If he had gone back to his room instead of staying with Fulton because he was too scared...he had abandoned his best friend...they all had...

Connie and Julie's sobs broke softly through the still, crisp air. It was the kind of day that had always been Adam's favourite, Fulton reflected, glancing across the same iron-grey lake they had seen only months before in milder weather. It made sense, somehow, burying him next to Hans.

They watched as the coffin was lowered into the ground, the darkness swallowing the last remains of Adam Banks. Fulton had tried to request a cremation, he knew it was what Adam would have preferred, but the Banks' had already booked a burial. Even at the last they disregarded their son's best interests. They hadn't even bothered to turn up for the funeral. A small, sad bunch of daisies was the most they had contributed. Fulton supposed they decided they had done their duty paying for the coffin and burial.

The priest handed a box to Gordon Bombay. It contained a small mound of earth and Bombay wept as he cast a handful into the grave.

"Remember him, Ducks. He was a beautiful spirit, bright but troubled. He didn't deserve the problems he had." And he passed the box on. Each of the team silently threw a handful of dirt into the gaping hole before them, as well as a single rose, gradually filling the darkness with a velvet shower of sweet scents and whispering petals. When the box reached Fulton, he paused and looked up at the rest of his team.

"No one really knew what went on in Adam's life, because that was the way he wanted things. He didn't trust us enough to tell us the truth...he was ashamed of himself because of his own father. We took Adam for granted, assumed he would always be there to help out the team...it was selfish of us. He needed help and comfort, but all he got was rejection." Fulton gazed across the grave at Charlie, who met his stare unflinchingly, a small, lazy smile on his lips. His eyes were narrowed in an expression of smugness. He knew Fulton and Dwayne would never tell the truth. "We owe him so much." Whispered Fulton. The others all bowed their heads, unaware of the dark secrets being passed in the glances of three of their number. Fulton threw his handful of earth and added a particularly large, white rose to the grave. Beside him stood Dwayne, silent and pale. He copied Fulton's motions and passed the box on. Last in line was Charlie. He took the last handful of soil and threw it slowly into Adam's grave.

"We'll miss you Banksie. You were good fun." No one else looked up at these words except Dwayne and Fulton, who both glared at him, hate sparking in the air around them, unnoticed by the others.

The group began to depart as two men stepped forward to fill the grave. The girls were crying unrestrainedly onto each other's shoulders and even Portman was weeping silently against Averman. The Ducks were devastated by this loss, but more so because they had never even realised the problems their friend had to deal with.

"If only he'd told us!" Sniffed Julie, wiping her eyes. "We wouldn't have thought any less of him."

"We could've helped."

"Why didn't we realise?"

"What did we do?"

Fulton and Dwayne remained by the graveside watching the hole gradually filling with cold, damp soil and listening to the fading remonstrations of their teammates. Dwayne heaved a great sigh, his breath catching in his throat as he did so.

"It's our fault you know."

"I do, yes."

"We could've done something to stop this."

"It was going to happen sooner or later. He was always going to go early."

"That doesn't make this any easier."

"I know. But it's something we have to accept. If it hadn't been Charlie, then it would've been Adam's dad, or his brothers."

"He didn't deserve any of this."

"Not many people do Dwayne."

They stood in silence once more, each going through their best memories of Adam. Eventually, Dwayne surfaced from his thoughts and shivered slightly. The grave was almost filled-they must have been standing there for hours. Fulton gave a last sigh and shoved his hands into his pockets.

"It's getting cold...it'll be night soon."

"I don't want to leave him...he's scared of the dark."

"We have to go Dwayne. He wouldn't want our lives to come to a halt just because he's gone. Besides, he's probably much happier where he is."

"...You're right. He's not in any more pain."

"No, he's not. It almost makes up for his last few hours..."

"We can't let Charlie get away with this." It was a statement more than anything else."

"What else can we do? He's proved how dangerous he is...you saw him, he doesn't even care about what he's done..."

"It's just so unfair. Even when Adam's dead, we can't do anything to help him."

"I'm afraid that's just the way life is Dwayne. We can't change that." They waited a few more moments, watching the mound of earth over their dead friend grow larger. At last, they turned to leave, but Fulton hesitated and moved back, towards the mountain of flowers and tributes to Adam left by other mourners. Pulling something from the inside of his coat, he unravelled it and placed it amongst long, wavering lily petals. Edging nearer, Dwayne felt tears fill his eyes again. There, framed by pale, delicate flowers was a Ducks hockey jersey. Number 99, the one Adam had been wearing when he died. It still had the dark bloodstain marring its pristine whiteness.

"I left it as a reminder." Murmured Fulton, indicating the stain. "So we'll never forget why he's not with us anymore." Together, they turned again and left at last, vowing to return in a few days to see the headstone put up.

As darkness fell the wan colours of the late flowers dimmed, but amongst them gleamed the white jersey, the Ducks symbol partly obliterated by the black stain. For a moment, as the sun fell behind the still, glassy lake, the number 99 seemed to glow, before it too was covered by darkness.

Fin.