Disclaimer - I do not own anything even remotely related to The Mighty Ducks. I only wish I had thought of them first…

Italics indicate character thought.

You guys totally rock my socks! Thank you so much for the reviews. It makes it so much more fun to write!

Katie: Thank you so much! You absolutely made my day and I have the flu so that's saying a lot!

antiIRONY: I'm glad you liked it! When I was rereading aloud to proof I ended up making myself cry. How silly, but I'm glad I'm not the only one!

-

"Okay, Goldberg. It sounds really good. Your points are all valid, well thought out. There are a few things I think I can help with that will up it from a good paper to a better one. Do you have time right now?" In her hotel room, Connie Moreau laid back on the bed, Goldberg's paper held above her eyes.

"Yeah, Connie. Thanks. This is so great!" Greg had her on speakerphone, his computer in front of him so he could make the changes as she suggested them. Guy lay on the bed, doing his own school reading, and interrupting at will. Speak of the devil, Greg thought.

"Hey, Con, what time is your game tomorrow?"

Connie had been drafted to the Canadian Women's Hockey League right out of high school and was just starting her third season with the Brampton Thunder. She was their starting center and Guy talked about her…well, constantly because he was so proud.

"Five o'clock."

Guy nodded, lying back again. "Okay, well call me after and let me know how it goes."

She sighed through the line. "Guy, you already talked to me today. I called to help Goldberg, so shut it, huh babe?"

Goldberg laughed. "Connie, I always knew that I loved you." He didn't even flinch when a balled up pair of socks hit him in the back of the head.

-

After sandwiches and soda (they didn't call it pop in the South, Charlie noted) the Maylands tensed noticeably and indicated that there was something they needed to talk to Beau about.

Charlie excused himself upstairs with some homework that he had brought along. He found it hard to read though. He kept getting distracted, letting his mind wander to Beau, her family, and how strange it felt to be accepted unconditionally even in such a hard time.

After what must have been thirty minutes, Charlie heard a muffled wail that was unmistakably Beau. He opened the door, peeking into the hall and didn't see her. He made his way back towards the stairs and heard the noise again from a closed door to his right. He listened for a moment before quietly opening the door.

"Beau?"

She stood in the middle of the bedroom, hands fisted by her sides. Taking a look around Charlie knew this must be Parker's room. The walls were papered with music posters, and CD cases sat in high stacks in two of the four corners. One shelf was littered with what looked like swimming trophies and ribbons and the bed was covered with an ancient Harvard blanket.

"Beau?" He said it a little louder this time, unsure if she hadn't heard him or if she wasn't quite able to speak yet.

She didn't turn to face him, but tilted her head down. Her voice shook slightly, but not in grief. It was something that Charlie had heard before, the first day of practice. It was rage. "Had I told you that Parker was gay?"

He walked into the room, a little closer, but still to her back. He hadn't known for sure, but she had said some things that had indicated it to him. "No."

"Is that, like, an issue for you?"

She was defensive, he realized. She hadn't ever been defensive with him. He walked around in front of her, crouching a little to make sure that she was looking him in the eye. "No. It's not. People are who they are."

She nodded her head, seeming to realize her tone. "Okay. So…" she blew out a breath, shaking her hands by her sides. "You have to know the history that when my brother came out at our high school first there were jokes, and then hate crimes; fights were picked. People were terrible to him, to me, to his friends. Our parents. We moved to another school. But through, like the whole thing, he was always so positive." She smiled a little. "He'd say 'Calm down, sis. People don't do well with change. They have to get used to it, and if they don't, then we don't need them.' Meanwhile I'd be stomping around, yelling and screaming."

"You? I can't imagine." Charlie pinched her arm gently.

"Yeah, yeah. But one of the things that I always admired about Parker, one of the best of all of his great attributes was that he was so completely comfortable in his body. He knew who he was. That's so amazing to me." She sighed again, finally lowering herself to sit on the bed, drawing the corner of the blanket into her lap and pulling at the edges. "I knew that in the past two months Parker had been seeing this guy at school." She smiled again. "He was so pumped up about it. Cooper. They liked the same music, they were both on the swim team, he said this guy made him laugh…all the time."

He sat on the floor in front of her, legs crossed, his hands resting on her feet. "That's really important."

Beau nodded. "So, apparently Cooper called my parents last night, just beside himself, crying, so upset you really couldn't understand him. What they finally got out of him was that they were at this party and some guys started bashing on him…on Cooper. It started out being words, slurs…then they shoved him a few times, and finally someone threw a punch. Parker had been somewhere else…the bathroom, I don't know. When he came back, he got in front of Cooper, stood up for him." She looked down at Charlie, her face animated. "You have to understand. Parker was a not a little guy. He had a lean swimmer's body, but he was all muscle, and he knew how to use it. He kicked my ass more times than I can count." She smiled at that, looking up to the ceiling, remembering. "Cooper wasn't really clear with what exactly happened, but the fight got a little more out of control and it turned into two people holding down Parker and someone else…" She couldn't go on. She just raised her hands then let them drop heavily to her legs. "This guy
Cooper is a mess." Her eyes teared up first a little and then a lot. "He called my parents to apologize." She cried openly now and dropped her head down between her knees.

Charlie didn't say anything. He knew she didn't want him to. Leaning forward, he rested his head against hers, running his hands up and down her calves and letting her cry.