The Mighty Ducks Imagines

Emergency

When you step foot on the ice with a stick in your hand and a helmet on your head, you better know what you're signing up for. As a hockey player, I know the risks all too well. We act fearless but each game I fear that a single mishap could put an end to our playing days. We've had our fair share of injuries, no doubt about it. But we always bounce back. What if one day things suddenly became severe?

Our match-ups with the Iceland team during the Junior Goodwill Games were the scariest we've ever played. Their sheer size and physicality meant that there were plenty of opportunities for more colossal injuries. The idea of us getting hurt was impossible to shove to the back of my mind considering the nature of our opponents. For the first time since defeating Iceland, we're up against a group of tall and aggressive guys. It's all too familiar.

The difference between Iceland and Varsity is that Iceland was competing for the gold. Varsity just want to get rid of us. A bitter rivalry formed from the moment we walked onto the campus for the first time. They have money and we don't. To them, we're intruding - we don't belong here. Tension has increased with every prank and act of bullying. With the final getting closer, some start to expect the worse.

We've played them before - though we weren't supposed to. That unofficiated nightmare taught us a few things as it destroyed our souls. It showed us that, like Iceland, they'd go to any lengths to shut us down and send us packing. We also saw that they're not afraid to be aggressive. Though acting fairly tough and unbothered, that familiar fear of injury began to creep back into my head.

Ever since the game that was never meant to be, there's been an extra slice of dread haunting me. They hate our guts and we know it. Going into this game, the team had mixed emotions. We all have Hans on our minds, wanting to make him proud. But we know the risk of us getting more hurt than usual is high. You know the danger is real when an experienced hockey player like myself has to try not to have a panic attack in the middle of the game because of it. Hyper aware on the ice - fighting and uncontrollable bouncing knee on the bench.

By now, we're in the third period. The hit count is off the scale and most have come from Varsity. We have Portman back to help Fulton even out the numbers. Seeing the biggest hits on Guy and Averman, I thought they'd be out of the game for good. Even with our Bash Brother advantage, the playing experience is still the same. People are falling and flying around left and right. I swear I've seen at least half of the team do a flip because of the contact - and none of them ended well - including myself.

With roughly 11 minutes left remaining in regulation, it remains scoreless. As Connie returns to the bench, I head out for my next shift. Gliding around the ice, I'm on high alert whenever I gain possession of the puck. The anxiety of my surroundings is almost too much as the cycle continues. I've already lost count of the amount of hits from this shift alone.

Right in front of me, Guy gets thrown around like a ragdoll as he passes the puck. The momentum causes his feet to fly up as I continue skating. With very little time to react, I try to move out of the way but still get clipped. I let out a pained scream immediately. I drop my stick and quickly remove my gloves, putting my hands to the sharp stinging sensation. As blood seeps through my fingers, I fall to my knees.

"Y/N!" Charlie notices immediately as some gasps come from the stands.

"Ref, call it! She's hurt!" Fulton yells with the whistle quickly following.

"You're gonna be okay. It's gonna be fine." Adam frantically assures me as him and Charlie carefully help me up and rush me off the ice.

"Put pressure on it!" Orion instructs whilst opening the door as we hurry to the bench.

"She's gonna die!" Portman panics, sharing my growing fear.

"Don't say that!" Julie scolds him worriedly as she joins everyone at the bench.

As I race down the tunnel, the medics put a towel to my neck and try to reassure me that I'm going to be okay. That's very hard for me to believe. Along with the searing agony caused by the friendly fire of Guy's skate blade, burning tears stream down my face in a blind panic. With this woozy feeling from sudden stress, tears and most importantly, blood loss, my fear grows as I'm certain that death is imminent. I don't want this to be the first thing Portman is right about.

I can't comprehend anything in my overwhelmed state. Orion comes in and tells me the same thing everyone else has - adding that I should be proud of how I've played. I haven't seen any of the team and I fear I never will again. Before I know it, I'm in an ambulance, on my way to the hospital as they finish the game.

Third person...

It was a scary moment for all. There wasn't a single person in the building who wasn't shaken up. Both teams knew that the game had to continue, but the incident weighed heavily on them. Members of the crowd were vocal about ending the game but that's not how hockey works. It took a couple of shifts but things soon returned to how the rest of the game had been played. It took until the final seconds, but Charlie and Goldberg combined for a game-winning goal. They were already playing for Hans, but they had a new fire in them to fight and win it for Y/N.

The only people who know what happened after the game are the Ducks.  There was no time for celebrations when they left the ice. Everyone rushed to change out of their gear. Nobody had a shower - they just sprayed an ungodly amount of deodorant before heading out. Meanwhile, Orion talked to the bus driver to organise a team trip to the hospital. They shared their worry as some panicked tears and hyperventilating. Dean was just as hysterical as he was when he saw the puddle of blood on the ice. Guy apologised a million times for causing such pain. Nobody blames him, but he will always live with the guilt.

At Eden Hall the day after Y/N's freak accident, it's clear that the entire school has heard about the event. Everyone is in shock. Looks of sympathy fall onto the Ducks by all who walk by. Over its many years since being founded, Eden Hall has seen a variety of injuries. However, none have had the severity of yesterday's life or death situation. 

The atmosphere at the Ducks lunch table is one of doom and gloom. They all promised to look out for Y/N even more from now on. Low-level conversations fill the air of dread. Just as they think things can't get worse, they're approached by Rick Riley.

"Hey, uh, how's Y/N?" He asks as he stands at the head of the table, getting the group's attention.

"Like you care." Charlie glares at him as most of them find it difficult to believe that he's being sincere.

"I do care. I'm not a complete monster." He's met by some raised eyebrows. "Seriously, how's she doing?"

"She'll make a full recovery." Fulton speaks up from further down the table.

"Yeah, she moved away just enough for it to not be critical." Adam adds.

"They said she can't speak for a while because it could irritate the injury." Connie continues.

"Peace and quiet." Averman jokes under his breath to cope with the situation and gains a light shove from Luis.

"They're keeping her in the hospital to make sure she's still stable." Ken gets back on track.

"She'll be out for a couple months but she'll be okay. She can still play." Portman finishes the explanation.

"Well, that's good news. Guy, I'm really sorry about that hit, man. This one's on me." He takes accountability.

"It's okay, it was an accident."

"I know it probably doesn't mean much, but we're all thinking of her. She's a great player, nobody wanted her getting hurt. Keep us updated?" Rick asks, finally showing he has a soul.

"Will do. We'll let her know you check in." Charlie shares a small smile and nod of respect.

Within all the chaos, the rivals have found a common ground. The hatchet has been buried and there is a new respect and understanding between the teams. Who knew it would take an emergency like this?