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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.

Author Note: Sorry for the very extended delay in updating. I sort of hit a wall with this and knew where I wanted it to go but was having trouble actually writing it. I'm still struggling a bit, so I hope this isn't too poorly written!

Charlie,

Where do I start? I'm not entirely sure that you've gotten my other letters, so maybe I should just start from the beginning. I love you. I do. You may not believe that. Who could blame you after the things I said – the way that I treated you? But I can say, as trite as it sounds, that I have loved you from almost the first moment. At least from that first time we kissed when you were walking me back to my dorm in the stifling heat as the sun was setting and I was still seething over my fight with Tommy Lex. I loved you almost a year ago when we broke up, and I've loved you every day since.

I should explain myself, although explanations are usually just ways of making excuses. That weekend that we met in Detroit and I watched the game with the wives of the players…it scared the shit out of me, Charlie. Here was this new life you were going to have, and there I was, asking you to call me every night, to think about me when fans were asking you to sign things…holding you back. And no matter how convoluted those thoughts were, that's what I was thinking. I hope you can believe that I did what I did because I cared about you and I wanted you to live your life and live it to the fullest.

I miss you. That's just the reality of my life now. Missing you. I've thought about you every single hour of every single day since last year. It sounds like an exaggeration, but it's the truth. I thought that after a few months it would get better, maybe even stop, but it's gotten worse with time. I need to know where you are on this. Maybe if I know you still hate me and that you never want to see me again I can move on. Maybe I won't be able to, but at least I'll know how you feel.

I hope you're happy, Charlie. You deserve to be. You deserve everything you want out of life, and then some.

I love you,

Beau

252-663-4764

Beau had read the letter back to herself twenty-five, maybe thirty times. It sounded worse and worse every time she read it. Sighing, she finally folded it in half and slid it into the envelope, licking the edge and sealing it before she could change her mine. This is it. This is the last one. She had promised herself that if she didn't hear from him after sending this final letter, she was done. It was officially over between them and she'd have to move on…somehow.

She turned the purple package over and looked at the front. She had addressed it to Charlie care of the soundstage where most of the filming on The Mighty Ducks movie was taking place. Unlike his home in Minneapolis, she knew he would be there. There wouldn't be any questioning whether or not he got it this time.

She was staring at the window when a knock at her bedroom door startled her back to reality. She turned around and smiled sadly at Guy. He was dressed in shorts and a t-shirt and had a mini Ipod clamped in his hand.

"Sure you don't want to go for a mindless run with me? Get yourself to stop thinking?"

Guy felt sad looking at her. He had for the past few months. The change in her was obvious. She had grown more introverted, especially around their friends. He knew she was starting to believe that things with Charlie were over. And she blamed herself, obviously.

She shook her head. "I'm sure. Thanks though." As he smiled and turned to leave she followed him to the front door. "Hey, Guy. Can you drop this in the mailbox for me?" She stretched her arm out, holding the envelope as far from her as she could get it, afraid she would snatch it back and throw it in the trashcan. I'm such a coward.

He looked down at the name and address and smiled. He knew that this was her final attempt. She had told him, and of course made him swear not to tell Charlie what she was doing. 'It's between him and me,' she had said. Yeah right.

Guy smiled up at his best friend, pulling the letter from between her fingers. "No problem."

Charlie had read the letter several times. At first he had seen the signature – and the words 'I love you' – and had tossed it in the trashcan of his hotel room. The night had come and gone. He had spent his entire dinner with Adam thinking about what the letter might say, arguing with himself. I should read it. No, she made her decision. It's done.

When he had gotten back at midnight he had stood over the trashcan for what felt like and eternity, hands in his pockets, staring down at the bright purple envelope and the lilac paper. Purple is her favorite color. He fought the same battle with himself before finally leaving the paper where it was and crawling into bed.

Sometime around three in the morning he had finally thrown the covers back and fished the letter from the top of the trash and stood by the dark window to let his heart be ripped out…again.

Now, at 8am, he was reading it for the twenty-fifth time. Or was it the thirtieth? He didn't know, but what he did know was that he had not seen another letter with her name on in the eleven months since they had last seen each other. Where did she send them? Why didn't she just call if she missed me so much?

He pulled out his cell phone and punched in a number. Not hers. God, not hers. There was no way he was ready to hear her husky voice again. He had just quit hearing it in his sleep every night. He needed answers though, and there were only a few people he was close enough with to call at 8 in the morning and not get yelled at.

"Hello?" Guy's voice didn't sound groggy, but definitely surprised. "Charlie?"

Charlie paced the room, speaking quickly. "Yeah, man. How'd you know it was me?"

"Caller ID. What's up, buddy?" Guy sat down on a desk at the front of his classroom. It was the second day since school had ended for the year and he was up to his ears in cleaning supplies, final grades, and cumulative student files. Any call was a welcome distraction. He wasn't sure what Charlie could want so early in the day, but he had a damn good idea.

Charlie took a deep breath and rubbed his hand over his face, dimly aware of the rough stubble that he needed to shave. "I've got to ask you something, Guy, and I'm pretty sure this puts you in an awkward position. But I don't know what else to do."

Guy couldn't help but laugh. He really couldn't. "God, you two are so much alike. How do you not see that?" He stopped laughing though, when Charlie swore under his breath. "I'm sorry. It's just that…you're calling about Beau's letter, right?"

Charlie looked down at the paper. "Yeah." He thought Guy would say something else, but it was clear his friend was going to make him come right out and ask. "If this is how she felt, why didn't she just call me?"

The answer was simple. "She didn't have your number."

"That's it?" Charlie was incredulous. "She could have asked any one of you for it!"

He was angry, Guy realized. "Calm down, man." He took a deep breath, wondering how much to explain. Screw it. This has gone on too long. One of us has to do something about it. "We offered to give her the number, Charlie." He thought about Adam. "Well some of us did. But anyway, she refused. Said it wasn't fair, as our friend, to put us in that position by asking for it. She would do it her own way. So she started writing the letters." He was going to continue, but Charlie interrupted.

"What letters? I never got a single one!"

Guy shrugged, sliding off of the desk and moving to erase the white board, giving himself something to do with his hands. "Well she wrote them. She was in her room every couple of nights and then you'd see her hustling down to the mailbox. I'd say probably 30? Maybe 40? I guess she sent them to your old apartment." The minute he said it, Guy regretted even having mentioned it.

The contempt was obvious in Charlie's voice. "My mom." He was already pulling on pants over his boxers as he raced around the room, thankful there was no filming that day. "Look, thanks Guy. You're a good friend." He stopped, grateful. "To both of us." He started moving, digging under the top of his suitcase to look for a jacket. "I've got to go. There's something I need to deal with."

Hockey-girl90: Sorry for taking so long to update. Glad the explanation helped.

BellaLou: I'm glad you like Guy as a hockey coach. I can totally see it and I'm excited someone else can. On a personal note, are you getting more sleep now?

antiIrony: A coinky dink (I'm going with your spelling on that one!), indeed. I'm so creative like that, hahah!

Cc: Well, I've been nosebleed free, so that's a small blessing. Yeah, I hate Casey and I think you might see a Charlie/Casey confrontation upcoming, so we'll see.

Duckfluff: Still with the writer's block. Thanks for saying it wasn't evident. Hopefully it isn't here either.

Penman: Sorry about the lack of Rachel/Fulton and hockey. Hockey has taken a back seat to relationships, unfortunately, especially since most of them have graduated and moved on to their own teams or lives. As for Rachel/Fulton, maybe we'll see them again. The jury is out on that one. Thanks, as always, for the applause.

Sugar Stace: THANKS! Sorry for keeping you up but thanks for sending along to your friends! I'm super flattered. Yeah, I do think the thing with Beau breaking up with Charlie was abrupt, but I think that's the way break ups often happen in real life. Not a lot of buildup and coming as a complete shock to the other person. At least in my life! Thanks again!

AmnesiaSparkles: Thanks! Glad you dig Beau and the NFG shout out. I've been trying to find a way to work in Fall Out Boy and Over It (if you haven't heard them, check 'em out) but haven't found the right time yet.