Not of the Same Substance
RATING: PG
SUMMARY: Thinking of his past, Wildwing begins to remember that his little brother Nosedive was always a little...different.
WARNINGS: None
DISCLAIMER: I NO OWN. NO MONEY. NO SUE.
“Nosedive, c’mon time to get up.”
Nosedive yawned, and rubbed his eyes. “Aww do I hafta, Wing?”
Wildwing carefully adjusted the oil-cooking stove. “Yep. Up and at ‘em, little bro.”
The younger duck detangled himself from his blankets, and looked at the stove. “Where’d ya’ get that, Wing?”
Wildwing set a pot on top of it, and carefully began to stir. “Found it,” he said evasively.
“Where?” the 7 year old persisted.
Wilding sighted. “I took it from a campsite last night while everyone was sleeping.”
The younger duck looked hurt. “And you didn’t take me? Wing you promised!”
“I know!” Wildwing defended himself. “But you were asleep and you know you need your sleep.”
“But Wing!”
“Alright! I’ll take you with me today, alright?”
Nosedive eagerly clapped his hands. “Yah! Thanks, Wing!”
Wildwing sighed again. “Don’t thank me yet, little bro.”
***
“So, what’re we looking for?” Nosedive asked energetically, skipping along beside his brother.
Wildwing was starting to regret allowing his excitable brother come along. “Look for anything that might be worth selling. But you have to let me get it, alright Dive?”
“Kay,” Nosedive sang, beginning to hop on one foot as the turned the corner, “Hey, Wing! What’s going on?”
Wildwing looked in surprise at the huge crowds swarming the streets. Police and the Military were everywhere, and people were clamouring to get onto the streets. Many of them were children his own age, he noticed, all dressed like him and Nosedive in the typical style of street children.
“Hey. What’s up?” he asked the nearest kid.
The boy gave Wildwing the once over, then nodded, probably remembering him from one of the street brawls. “There’s some politician meeting today, and this big shot- the one who wants to put all o’ us in work camps-decides to be stupid and take a route swarming with us ‘street rats’.”
Wildwing frowned. He know full well this was likely to get violent, and he didn’t want Nosedive out in this. “C’mon, Dive let’s-”
He was interrupted when a sudden yell of fury rang along the street, and Wildwing could see a long, black car turn onto it. He grabbed Nosedive’s hand and went to turn around to leave, but found the two of them neatly and efficiently hemmed in.
Then kids started throwing rocks as well as insults, and the police and military turned and began to beat people back. Wildwing was disgusted. This looked like nothing more than on excuse on the authorities party to beat on the street kids.
“Hang on, little bro,” Wildwing hissed, then struck at those around him, cutting a path out. Wildwing was well-known and well-feared because of the amount of street fights he’d been in. He never fought with weapons, yet had been know to beat those who did. In fact, he’d never lost a fight in his life. And now he put his questionable skills to good use.
Nosedive followed immediately behind him, and Wildwing wasn’t really worried about him. Until Nosedive screamed.
Wildwing spun around to see a cop holding onto the little duck’s arm. For a moment he was relieved, until the officer put his foot on Nosedive’s forearm, and slammed it down. There was a sickening snap and Wildwing’s heart stopped.
The moment of weakness didn’t last long. With a roar of fury, Wildwing slammed his full, pitiful weight into the back of the officer, slamming his elbow into the back of the drake’s neck.
The officer fell in pain, and Wildwing scooped up his baby brother, running as fast and as far as he could. Nosedive cried out in pain every time he was jarred, holding his arm, which stuck at on odd angle.
At last Wildwing stopped and looked around. He didn’t recognise the part of the city they were in, and he was forced to admit they were lost.
“Young man?” Wildwing spun at the sound of the soft voice, spotting a small, older, grey-haired duck standing in a shadowed doorway. She smiled softly, and said, “Can I help you?”
Wildwing paused. One of the first thinks you learn on the street was never trust anyone but he needed help. Desperately. “My little brother…he’s…he’s hurt. Real bad.”
The woman motions for him to step inside, and he found himself in a shadowy room, all the curtains drawn. She led him through and into another room larger, one that looked like a hospital, only with no patients.
“What is this place?”
"It's my life," she said softly. “I'm Dr. Leanna McDrake. This used to be my clinic, but now it’s my mission of mercy. I help anyone who needs help.”
Wildwing swallowed. “I think Dive’s arm is broken.”
Leanna looked at Nosedive’s arm. “I’d agree. Can you put him on this bed her?”
Wildwing paused. Could he trust her? But if he lost Nosedive…
He gently laid his little brother on the bed, and Leanna examined his arm. “That’s odd,” she said softly, and turned to Wildwing. “Feel that,” she said, wiping a bit of a silvery substance on his fingers, a substance that rolled around like quicksilver.
“What is it?” he asked, fascinated.
“You’re brother’s blood,” Leanna said, sounding puzzled. “When did this arm break?”
“Just a little bit ago.” Wildwing frowned at the stuff in his hand – how could that be Dive’s blood?- and said “Ten minutes, maybe.”
“Hmm,” she frowned deeper. “The amount of healing is equivalent to his being injured a week or se ago. Here, hold him still, I have to set the bone.”
More confused than ever, Wildwing wiped his hand on his pants and went to carefully hold Nosedive down. Leanna gently turned the little boy’s arm, and he let out a scream as she gently snapped the bone back into place.
“Can you…” Leanna paled, and both could only stare in shock as the bloody, deep cuts on Nosedive’s arm began to heal themselves before their eyes.
The little duck cradled his arm. Seemingly unconcerned that the healing was too fast to be normal. “What?” he demanded, wiping the tears from his face.
“Nosedive…” Wildwing hesitated. “Do your cuts always fix themselves like that?”
“Like what?” Nosedive asked innocently, looking around the room in rapt fascination.
“Really fast,” Wildwing persisted. “Do they always fix themselves really fast?”
Nosedive shrugged. “Yeah.”
Leanna and Wildwing exchanged worried glances, “Have your bones ever done that too?” Leanna asked.
Nosedive scratched his blonde head with a chubby hand. “I think so. I fell offa da statue of Dake DeCaine, an I got really hurt, But when Wing found me I was all fixed up.”
Leanna shot Wildwing a curious look, and he whispered, “Nosedive got separated from me, and trying to find me, he climbed up the statue of Drake DuCaine, like he’d seen some of the big boys do, and he fell off. When I found him though, he wasn’t even injured.” He shook his head. “Not even a scratch.”
Both turned to look at the little boy, who had dug a battered toy plane out of the pocket of his shirt, and stood, flying it around. He mimicked the sound of a faltering engine when the wing fell off – as it often did – and mimed a furious fiery crash. “Kabam!” he shouted when it ran into the wall.
There was the sudden slam of a door and a voice shouted, “Mother! Mother!>”
“In here,” Leanna called, her voice suddenly weak.
A young teenaged female duck came rushing in, looking furious. She had jet-black hair, and white feathers. At the sight of her Nosedive shoved his plane back into his pocket.
“Mother, why can’t I-” she stopped when she saw the brothers. “Who’re they, mother?”
“Two boys I’m helping,” Leanna said defensively.
“That little one’s kinda…” the girl started towards Nosedive, but he suddenly screamed.
“Stay ‘way from me, betwayer!” He yelled, pointing at her. “Stay ‘way!”
The girl drew shot. “What-”
“Stay ‘way!” Nosedive cried, scrambling off the medi-bed. “You a bad betwayer, and betwayers hurt good people”! He put chubby fists on his hips. “Stay far ‘way!”
“Nosedive, it’s alright,” Leanna tried to reassure him. “She’s my daughter, Karrie. Maybe not the best child, but she won’t hurt you.”
“Stand back mother,” Karrie growled, and they all spun to look at her. “That’s him. The father. And I’m going to make sure the hope is never born!”
A blast of energy seemed to suddenly shoot out of her and headed right for Nosedive.
Wildwing cried out, but Nosedive just raised his hand and a blue aura formed around it, catching and absorbing the energy blast.
“How-” Wildwing gasped, but his little brother had raised his hands, and was yelling in a language he didn’t understand. Blue energy snaked out of his hands, wrapping around Karrie.
She screamed, but Nosedive gestured and an explosion rocked the room, and when it Faded, Karrie was gone, and Wildwing and Leanna blinked, their memories of it completely gone.
“She’ll be back,” Nosedive mumbled, reaching in his pocket for his airplane. “Truth’ll be back.”
***
Wildwing was still trying to remember what had happened as he and Nosedive headed down the street. “Are you sure nothing weird happened?” Wildwing insisted.
“Nope,” Nosedive said cheerfully, flicking the wing of his plane off. He stopped just long enough to pick it up, then mimed a fiery crash.
“Why do you always make that thing crash the same way?” Wildwing demanded.
“Because that’s what planes do,” Nosedive answered, surprised.
“No it’s not,” Wildwing said, a little sharper than he intended to. “They fly from point A to point B without any problems, simple as that.”
“Our plane didn’t,” Nosedive said cheerfully, turning around to walk backwards.
“What do you mean our plane?” Wildwing asked, but Nosedive ignored him. “Nosedive! Nosedive!”
Wildwing dropped to one knee, and grabbed his brother’s shoulders. Shaking him lightly he demanded, “What do you mean, ‘our plane’?!”
Nosedive looked at his brother with wide eyes. “The plane we were on,” he whispered.
“We were never on a plane,” Wildwing said furiously. “Never!”
“Yes we were,” Nosedive whispered sounding meek. “Dat’s what happened to mama an’ dad.”
Wildwing began to shake, his hands dropping away from Nosedive.
“Wing?” Nosedive whispered, sounding worried. “Wingy?”
But Wildwing couldn’t hear him. He was suddenly remembering something that had been lost to him for 7 years. The first 7 years of his life.
Screams echoed around him, and terrified, he looked into the face of the women who held him. “Look after your little brother,” she hissed. “Promise me you’ll look after your little brother.”
“I promise,” he’d cried, afraid, and she smiled weakly.
A man came up beside her, and he hugged Wildwing with one arm. Take care of him,” he said softly and placed a little bundle in Wildwing’s arms. “Alright trooper?”
“Yes dad, yes mama,” Wildwing cried, then there was the sickening lunch as the plane they were on smashed into the mountain face. Wildwing curled himself up around the bundle, protecting his baby brother with his own body. His eyes were so tightly closed he failed to see that an aura had formed around the brothers, and failed to see that while everything –and everyone- around them burned, they remained safe.
Shaken from his reverie, Wildwing shot terrified eyes on Nosedive who looked at him nervously. “Are you alright?” Dive whispered.
“I-I remembered!” Wildwing cried, shooting up in surprise. “I remembered mama and dad!”
“I never forgot them,” Nosedive said proudly, sliding his tiny hand into his brother’s calloused one. “Let’s go home, Wing.”
“Yes,” Wildwing smiled, pleased. “Let’s go home.”
***
Wildwing sighed and opened his eyes to look up at the stars. A stiff breeze blew over the roof of the Anaheim Pond, and he ran his fingers through his tousled feathers. He’d been up here on the roof for along time, and he still didn’t feel much better.
He should’ve known Nosedive was different from the start, but he always seemed to somehow forget.
“Hey Wing, whatcha up to?”
Wildwing turned in surprise, to see his little brother standing awkwardly behind him, hands in his pocket.
“Remembering.” Wildwing turned back to the city, and Nosedive sat down beside him.
“Dangerous poffession,” he said lightly.
“Yeah. Especially since I remembered some interesting things about you. Like Karrie, Like the statue of Drake DuCaine, like the riot, like when that police officer broke your arm?”
Nosedive laughed shortly. “And how I broke his jaw a week later?”
Wildwing laughed. “And Karrie? What did she mean, 'the father'?”
Nosedive sobered. “Father of the Hope. The child that will be born to save the Guardians."
“So if you’re the father,” Wildwing frowned, “What did she mean by making sure the last was never born?”
Nosedive paused, biting his beak. “There’s an old Guardian prophesy. That the Hope of the multiverse will be born of two Guardians.”
“And because she called you the father...then you’ll be the father of the Hope!” Wildwing’s eyes widened. “Do you know who the mother’ll be?”
Nosedive shrugged. “The prophesy doesn’t say.”
“It’s not going to be Missie, is it?” Wildwing asked suspiciously. “Because technically she’s only two, you know.”
“Ouch,” Nosedive flinched. “You say that like it’s a bad thing. Besides, I may not have kids for another 20 years at least, Wing. Don’t worry.”
“Hey Dive, wasn't there that other prophesy that soon after the one that could control the energy of the times, the greatest threat the Guardians would ever face was coming?” Wildwing asked slyly.
“Yep.” He swung his legs like a little kid. “Any threat that's coming is going to be coming pretty-HEY!” He gave his older brother an insulted look. “You tricked me!”
Wildwing jabbed a finger at Nosedive. “And you lied to me! You knew perfectly well you were gonna have to have a child soon didn’t you?”
Nosedive looked guilty. “Yeah. I just- I just didn’t want anybody to worry about me. That’s all. I mean, a kids a big responsibility.”
“A VERY big responsibility,” Wildwing half-laughed, haft-groaned, remembering the years he’d had to raise Nosedive, their parent’s dead.
“Remember that toy plane, Wing?” Nosedive said suddenly, and Wildwing turned to see his brother pulling something out of the pouch on his belt. He held it out, and Wildwing took it gently.
It was a battered, worn child’s toy plane, and the wing fell off in his hands.
Nosedive reached over and squeezed his older brother’s hand. “Let’s go home, Wing.” He sounded like his childish self.
Wildwing looked up at the stars, and whispered, “I wish we could, little bro, I wish we could.”
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