The obligatory "Prologue": (sorry it's kinda long)

I'm choosing to slightly alter the timeline to more closely reflect the actors' ages as they were during filming. Most of them were twelve in 1992, fourteen in '94, sixteen in '96, etc. We can just say for D3 purposes that Eden Hall still ran its JV up through junior year. :)

Another thing is, I'm bringing back Jesse Hall. He was a total boss, and I missed him alot in D3, so I'm opting to explain his absence there by saying it took him a year or so to choose to accept the scholarship to Eden Hall. But by the time of the story, he's there with all the others.

NEXT, AND PLEASE READ THIS IF YOU READ NOTHING ELSE I JUST SAID: This story contains teenage drinking, and at one point, a character taking pain meds illegally. Please know that I'm just trying to represent the cultural norms that were present in the 90's. Things were still pretty unregulated on the prescription pill front. The illegal activities I incorporate into the story are meant to add to the narrative, but I DO NOT under any circumstances promote teenage drinking or taking pain pills not prescribed. Always see a doctor if you're facing a chronic pain or psychological issue. And do not drink til you're 21.

This is dedicated to everyone who put their back into creating The Mighty Ducks franchise. From the first time I watched it as a ten-year-old girl, I was captivated. Thank you for whipping up the magic. I'm honored to be a part of spreading it by way of this fanfiction.

Lastly, this is for every young girl who struggles to do life every day. You are seen and loved.


"Vulnerability is the essence of connection and connection is the essence of existence." - Leo Christopher

Winter 1992

Eleven-year-old Lacey bit off a sliver of thumbnail and pushed back a stray lock of frizzy, brown hair. The boys on skates, unrecognizable in all the padding and helmets, were filing out onto the ice, sailing hockey pucks back and forth to warm up before the game. The air was electric.

This was hockey, after all. The sport Minnesotans lived for. Of course hockey, to Lacey, was just…hockey. Nothing special. Kids with sticks and pucks, hurting each other just to shoot something into a net. But her almost-stepbrother, Davy, played left wing for the illustrious Hawks, and that meant she could count on spending most Friday evenings at the rink.

It was going to be a long couple of hours, so she pulled out the Babysitter's Club book she'd stashed in her backpack, ignoring how her fingers throbbed from having bitten her nails too short again.

"Alright then!" Lanky Stuart plunked into the seat beside her. A stray piece of popcorn fell onto the page of her book, leaving a trail of grease as she shook it off. "Who ordered Milk Duds?" his cheerful, Scottish brogue boomed in her ears above the murmurs of the crowd. "Mum, was that you?" He reached across Lacey, and her Mom snatched the Milk Duds quickly from her boyfriend.

"Thank God. And tell me you didn't forget the gummy bears."

Stuart handed them over with a flourish. "Not so. And I believe someone ordered peanut M&M's! Who was that again? Do you know, Lacey?"

Lacey looked up and gave Stuart a quick smile. "Thanks," she mumbled. She had ordered no such thing, but it was like Stuart to remember her favorite candy. She set the bag in her lap and continued to read.

"Come sit down!" Mom shouted to the six-year-old twins for the seventh time in a half hour. "Halen, don't make me come over there. Ariel, do you want gummies or not? Lacey, what are you doing?!" her mom turned to her, swatting her hand away from her mouth. "You'll start bleeding again!"

Lacey sighed and slipped her hand underneath her thigh to keep herself from biting more.

Her mom had been fun once. She'd always been what Stuart called "feisty," but she hadn't yelled as much and hadn't carried that line between her eyebrows from constant worrying. Lacey even remembered when her mother was always the first to join Stuart's spontaneous dance parties in the living room with his blaring British pop cassettes.

But when the kidnapping happened, things changed for everybody. The past two years have been very different.

The rink gave off a chill Lacey couldn't get warm against until Stuart placed his jacket across her shoulders. "Oh, are we back to Mary Anne now?" he reached over to look at her book cover. "She your favorite lass of them all?"

Lacey shook her head. "Dawn is."

"Dawn? The one from New York who eats junk food?"

Lacey cracked a smile. "You're mixing, like, three of them up."

"I could've sworn Dawn was the New Yorker. Oh, OH!" Stuart leapt to his feet suddenly, along with almost everyone around them. The hockey game was now well underway, and all around Lacey came shouts of "BANKS! BANKS! BANKS!"

She should have prepared herself for this outburst of cheering for the Hawks' star player, but it seemed unusually loud today, and she clapped her hands over her ears, heart slamming against her rib cage. Clamping her eyes shut, she tried to do what Dr. Hemby had told her to do and imagine herself in a meadow.

With a creek, fireflies circling her head.

No, fairies.

They were each wearing pastel-colored dresses. And they were singing to her-

"BANKS! BANKS! BANKS!"

How Lacey wished the goal would be made already and people would stop shouting the Hawks' star's name.

The fairies suddenly morphed into angry bees that swarmed madly against the backs of her eyelids. She bent over to hold her head between her knees and rocked gently, waiting for it to stop.

Just when she'd tightened her fists around two handfuls of hair and prepared to jerk hard, a final cheer erupted, and the noise subsided.

"Uh oh. You okay, baby?" She felt her mom's hands pulling her hair off her neck. "Breathe. Breathe." Mom began to breathe with her as Lacey filled her lungs deeply, eyes still closed.

"Lacey? Ah, no, I'm so sorry," she heard Stuart's repentant voice on the other side of her.

"These games aren't good for her, Stuart. I told you. Next time, you can come watch Davy by yourself," her mom snapped.

"Sometimes she handles loud noises very well. I had no idea this would upset 'er so much." He squeezed Lacey's shoulder gently. "Forgive me, dear." He stood quickly to step into the aisle. "You go ahead and take 'er home. I'll keep the twins, and we'll finish watching Davy play."

"No, I'm okay," Lacey managed to speak after regaining a feeling of normalcy and finding her breath again. "It's fine now. I promise."

Thankfully, the panic attacks didn't always last long. When they came upon her suddenly, Lacy always tried to force them out by sheer will, but it was a little like trying to bail water out of a sinking ship with an eyedropper. All she could do was wait it out.

Stuart sat back down slowly. "Will it help ya to keep reading?"

"No, it won't," Mom cut in. "Dr. Hemby says to be present in the moment. We're at Davy's hockey game, and when you get lost in a book, things startle you. Here." Lacey felt the book being pulled from her hands. "Did you pull any hair out this time?"

Her mom examined her head carefully, looking for missing locks.

"No, I didn't pull," Lacey answered, flushing in deep embarrassment. "Can we please just watch the game? I'm fine."

Lacey tried to focus her attention for the next hour on Stuart's son, Davy. Davy's mom had remarried a wealthy man, and they lived in the Hawks' district; therefore, he was assigned to the team by default, but he mostly just sat on the bench during games. Of course, Stuart never acknowledged that Davy really wasn't a great hockey player, instead he tirelessly cheered him on each time he was given a precious couple of minutes out on the ice.

"He almost made that shot!" Stuart exclaimed when his son was taken out of the game after having attempted a slap shot that ended up hitting the plexiglass behind the left side of the goal. "Riley oughta give 'im another chance! He always takes 'im out before he can get good 'n warmed up, and replaces him with that McGill lad."

Lacey wasn't sure what the point was in these weekly games. Besides the fact that Davy never played, the ending was always predictable-the Hawks creamed the Cardinals 10-2.

The Hawks always won.

"Och, nearly made it! So close!" Stuart gave Davy's shoulder a fond squeeze on the way to the car. "Even closer than last time!"

"Almost doesn't count, though, Dad," Davy huffed. "Coach says one more game like I played today and I'll be on the bench for good."

"Well," Stuart's tone turned firm, "we'll just have to see about that. I'm not above havin' a talk wi-"

"Darlene Primmer?"

Lacey looked over and saw their landlord, Mr. Philip Banks, fast approaching from across the parking lot, his son Adam, the Hawks' superstar, on his heels. Her stomach sank.

She looked up as her mom rolled her eyes. "Go on to the car, Stuart. Take the girls." She slowed her pace.

But Stuart slowed his too, fishing in his pocket. "Davy, here're the keys. Turn on the heat for Ari and Halen. Lacey, go with 'im?"

But Lacey moved in closer to her mom to let Stuart know she wasn't leaving.

Mr. Banks caught up with them. "Hi. Hey there," he flashed a smooth smile toward her after greeting her mom and issuing only a curt nod toward Stuart. "I noticed I didn't receive anything in the mail this past week. We talked about this, Ms. Primmer and Mr. McBrayer, didn't we?" He reached up to tug at his collar. "I'm sorry to have to say this, but time's up. You're behind by two months."

Her mom let out a noisy breath, replying before Stuart could open his mouth. "Phil, we still need more time. Lacey's had some doctor bills, and the twins needed school clothes. I'm working with a warehouse supervisor's salary here, and you know Stuart doesn't do much better. He's even giving guitar lessons on the side." She brought a finger up to point at Mr. Banks. "You told us you'd cut us a break when we need it, and well, we need it now."

Lacey forced herself to look over at Adam, embarrassed that her mom had mentioned the doctor bills. But Adam didn't seem to even notice her presence.

"Aye, just another few days, Mr. Banks," Stuart chimed in calmly. "I'll thank ya fer always bein' patient with us. But Darlene's right. We only need a break. I draw a check this comin' Thursday, and yer money will be hand delivered to yer residence that very evening."

Mr. Banks crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes. "This week, Mr. McBrayer. I have no desire to make things unpleasant, but if the rent defaults further, I'll be forced to take the matter to court."

Lacey watched as her mom bit her lip but recovered quickly. "Then you'll have it. Whatever, just don't harass us and the kids out here in public, alright?"

"Whoa whoa, no one's harassing anyone here," Mr. Banks raised his hands. "I'm just asking for you to come through on a contract the both of you signed."

Mom's back stiffened. "Fine. Give us this week to get straightened out, yeah?"

And before Lacey realized it, her hand went to her mouth. What would happen if Mom and Stuart didn't make rent this week and they got kicked out of their cheerful little townhouse? Would they actually become homeless? Did that mean they'd have to go eat at the soup kitchen around all those strange people? What if she couldn't see Dr. Hemby anymore and no one else would help her? Would she keep pulling until she'd ripped out all her hair?

Lacey wasn't sure how long Adam Banks had been staring at her, but when she realized it, she was immediately uncomfortable and wanted to run to the car.

"Do you know you're bleeding?" He spoke in a low voice, taking a step away from his dad to come closer to her.

Lacey froze, the nub of a nail still in her mouth. Was he talking to her?

"You're bleeding," he repeated, as though she hadn't heard him.

She brought her hand down and saw that the last three fingernails of her right hand had been bitten down to the quick, and were, indeed, blooming blood. She suddenly noticed the coppery taste of it in her mouth.

Lacey felt sick. She was doing it again.

She panicked and tried to shove her hand quickly into her jeans pocket, but Adam was already pulling the burgundy scarf from around his neck and pushing it toward her. "Here. You can use this."

Blinking, she tentatively reached out to take the scarf with her other hand. "Thank you…"

"Sure." Adam gave a quick, bashful nod before looking back toward his dad. Somehow, Lacey had expected the big, shiny Hawks' superstar to be more…cocky?

She pressed the soft wool against her throbbing fingertips, grateful for the soothing feeling it gave her. But she wondered if he would actually want it back after her blood had been on it.

"Dammit, Phil!" Lacey found her bleeding hand being jerked up by her mom. "My kid has problems handling stress, alright? Thanks a billion for setting her off."

Before Lacey could even think, her mom was steering her away from Adam and back over toward the ice arena, holding her bleeding hand out and up to keep from getting blood on her clothes. Lacey held fast to the scarf she'd been given with her left hand as she walked quickly to keep up with her mom. "Thursday, Phil," she called over her shoulder. "You'll have your check, I guaran-damn-tee it. Now you have a lovely day."

Phil, Adam, and Stuart all stood, staring bewilderedly. Looking back as her mom pulled her along, she saw Phil put his hand on Adam's shoulder and turn him toward their car. Stuart just remained where he was, awkwardly watching after them, then glancing at Lacey and her Mom.

Darlene sighed as they entered the ladies' restroom, and she turned on the faucet, letting it warm up before taking her daughter's hand and sticking it under the running water. Lacey watched as the red liquid circled the drain before disappearing down into it.

"Here." Mom pulled out some paper towels to wrap around Lacey's fingers. "You gotta stop doing that." After hurriedly wiping the moisture off her daughter's fingers, Darlene suddenly paused, looking at the soft, burgundy yarn bundled in Lacey's other hand. "Where'd you get that? Whose is it?"

Lacey opened her mouth to speak, but was afraid of her mother's response. Finally, she could no longer put it off. "Adam's," she answered in a tiny voice. "It's his scarf, he gave it to me when I was bleeding…"

Mom sighed, rolling her eyes. "Perfect. Now we've got something else to get back to them. We'll wash it, then send it along with Stuart when he takes the rent check. Because I shouldn't even need to say you can't keep it. We don't need their help, Lacey. Here, look at me." Darlene tipped Lacey's chin up, meeting her eyes. "Lacey, people like that…," she could feel her mother trembling slightly with anger, "they think they're God's gift to the world. And the rest of us lowlives should be grateful they let us breathe the same air. So we're not going to let them think they can mow us over, or that we're dependent on their favors. Do you understand?"

Lacey paused, thinking about the absence of any malice in Adam Banks' eyes earlier.

"Lacey?" her mother prompted.

Lacey nodded. "O-Okay…"

But she felt conflicted.

She'd unwittingly bitten her nails down too low before in school, embarrassing herself royally when the blood began to pour down her fingers.

Fruit loops… Vampire… Flesh eater… Loopy Lacey…

Not once had anyone even offered her a Kleenex, other than a teacher. So how could Adam be so bad if he'd tried to do something so nice for her?

If only she'd been able to at least smile at Adam for being kind to her before she'd been pulled away. Would she ever get the chance again?