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.

The song at the end is Dressed to Kill by New Found Glory. Great song. Check it out.

-

Charlie walked into the kitchen, head bent and eyes squinting, trying to adjust his tie but failing miserably. Beau turned around from the toaster, leaning back against the counter and smiling. She watched him struggle for nearly a minute before finally walking over.

"Here."

Reaching up she loosened the knot he had wrenched into the material, reworking it and then slowly sliding it up snugly to his collar. She stepped back and looked him up and down.

"You clean up nice, Conway."

Charlie sized her up as well, taking in the flowing black skirt and white sweater twin-set. "You too, Mayland." He rubbed her arms gently. "Gonna be a long day, huh?"

She simply nodded before turning back to her toast.

-

"Hall!" Coach Neumann sped across the ice to where Jesse was stopped near the boards and came to an abrupt halt just before slamming into him. "What was that?" He pointed back towards the goal. "You let every single defender on you know exactly what path you were going to take with that puck! How they didn't strip it from you," he looked over his shoulder pointedly at Portman and Riley, "I don't know. You should have been cutting back and forth."

"Yes sir." Jesse didn't say that he knew that. That he had planned to do that.

"Do it next time, Hall. This is competitive hockey. You have to do better."

I can do better. Or at least I could. My ankle is killing me. I think something's really wrong. What if I can't play anymore? I should be resting it. Not playing on it. What if I hurt it worse? "Yes sir."

-

"Beau, I am so sorry. God, when we heard…" A girl Charlie thought he recognized from a picture he had seen back at school was hugging Beau and shedding a few tears. Beau had been so strong. She had cried uncontrollably for quite a while after she had gone in to see her brother's body, but since then she had quietly accepted condolences and periodically gone to hold her mother's hand or lean against her father's.

"Beau!" The sound came from across the room, a little too loud for a funeral home, and a dark haired streak flew through the massive crowd of people.

"Rachel!" Beau was moving as well and the two girls met somewhere in the middle in a tight embrace. The new girl was stroaking Beau's hair and Charlie heard her start to sniffle. "I thought you weren't going to be able to make it."

Rachel drew back, holding her friend at arm's length and scoffed. "I moved some things around. I couldn't not be here." She pulled Beau into another tight hug before glancing towards the front of the room and the open casket.

At her look, Charlie saw Beau's eyes shimmer a little and he moved from the side of the room to stand by her side. She looked up at him gratefully before turning to hear what Rachel was saying.

"How does he look, Beau? Really. I don't know if I want to…"

"He has a black eye that they couldn't quite cover all the way." She winced a little at that. "But he looks like Parker. Perfect, handsome Parker." She reached her hand out, drawing Charlie into their conversation. "Rachel, this is Charlie Conway. I've told you about him." She squeezed his hand. "Charlie, this is my best friend Rachel Monroe."

Rachel spun on him, her face changing. "Told me about him? Well that's the understatement of the year." No hesitation, she reached out and hugged Charlie hard enough to force some of the air out of his lungs. "I've been dying to get a look at you!"

Charlie cleared his throat. "It's nice to meet you, Rachel."

They would have talked more, but Mr. Mayland walked up then, touching his daughter's shoulder. "Beau, dear. The service is going to start now. We need to…" He broke off.

"Okay, Dad."

Beau and her parents sat in the first row, holding hands, presenting a strong unit, broken by the loss of one. Charlie and Rachel sat behind them and the funeral home was filled to its seams. Parker was well loved both in life and in death.

The service was beautiful and punctuated by the sounds of sobs from people of all ages, genders, and races. As the minister drew to close his portion, he motioned to Beau. She stood, shaking a little. She turned to look at her parents, their heads bowed, and then to Charlie. He had known she had planned to speak, but she had been unsure that morning if she would be able to actually go through with it. She looked at him a little helplessly so he stood, leaning forward and taking her hand. When she leaned into him for a brief moment of support, he reached up and tucked a loose piece of hair behind her ear.

Mrs. Mayland happened to look up at this and it warmed her heart. It wasn't something she thought could happen at her son's funeral, but there it was, right in front of her.

Beau pulled away and walked slowly to the front of the room. She cleared her throat a few times, looking around at the people in front of her. Her eyes finally landed on a guy about halfway back. He was crying silently, tears streaming down his face, his body rocking back and forth. The way he looked at her, something in his eyes, Beau knew it was Cooper.

She started with a sigh. "My family and I want to thank you, so much, for being here today. Parker met people wherever he went. He had more friends in two weeks of college than I'll have my whole life. To see so many of you here, well, I know he'd be so proud. For those of you he met in college," she looked to Cooper. "It especially means a lot to have you here. To have known him for such a short time, and to have cared for him. I haven't met you, but Parker is…was," she struggled with this, taking a minute to breath through it, "my twin brother."

She linked her hands behind her, looking back over her shoulder at the casket which was now closed. "Parker was the most special, beautiful, unique person that I have ever known. He and I were…I like to believe that we were as close as two people can be. We came from the same place; we were so much a part of each other. There is no way in the world that I would be the person I am today if it weren't for my brother." Her eyes were full now and she blinked furiously to hold back her tears. "If you knew Parker, you knew he loved music. He lived for it. There wasn't a moment of a day that he wasn't listening to, or singing a song." She smiled broadly now, tears clouding her vision. "And when we were kids, oh man. I used to get my feelings hurt so easily. Mom or Dad would yell at me and I would think my life was ending. Parker would come into my room, we must have been six or seven, and he'd sing me to sleep. He had a beautiful voice."

Mrs. Mayland let out a small cry and Beau hesitated, looking in her direction. "Mom." She said it softly, a word of understanding before continuing. "Parker told me once, 'Beau, if anything ever happens to me, you have to find the perfect song to play at my funeral.' So, I've been thinking about this and…the song I found is something I know Parker would love. It so…" Her words were strained, her voice breaking. She wrung her hands in front of her now, her nails scratching over her palms, twisting a ring around and around on her finger. "It so perfectly portrays how I've felt every single minute since I got the call about Parker on Monday. When my brother left this world, a huge part of me left with him." She shrugged. "I'm sure some of you won't think this is appropriate for a service, but Parker…" Her smile was beaming now, as she looked up towards the heavens. "Oh, Parker would think it was absolutely…perfect." The last word was a whisper.

As a fast guitar beat started in softly over the speakers in the room, Beau moved to sit again by her parents. She was doubled over in pain now, her head on her father's lap and her arm stretched over the back of her chair, clutching Charlie's hand so hard that he though a finger might break. He drew her palm up to his mouth, kissing it gently, moved by the words of the song:

I know it's hard for you
To understand what I'm going through
But now I sit here to remind myself
You're always dressed to kill
And you feel like you owe it to the world
But you owe it to yourself
And you're, you're not here
And I can't stop pretending
That you're forever mine...

And I
I can't dream anymore since you left
I miss you singing me to sleep
I can't wake anymore in your arms
I miss you singing me to sleep

Cheer up my friends all say
You're better alone anyways
But you're always on tour
And you're never home
I'm always dressed to kill
And I feel like I owe it to the world
But I owe it to myself
And you're, you're not here
And I can't stop pretending
That you're forever mine...

And I
I can't dream anymore since you left
I miss you singing me to sleep
I can't wake anymore in your arms
I miss you singing me to sleep
Cheer up my friends all say...
And I can't stop pretending
That you're forever mine
You're better alone anyways
And you're not here, not here
I can't dream anymore since you left
I miss you singing me to sleep
I can't wake anymore in your arms
I miss you singing me to sleep
Cheer up my friends all say...