"Here you go sweety," said Pam, laying down some berries at Mack's feet, giving him a quick peck on the cheek "these are for you."

"Why thank you Pam!" Mack said gratefully, "What's the occasion."

"Oh, don't you remember?" Pam asked, "Today is your day for nestrest."

Mack looked confused, "Nestrest? But I'm feeling fine today."

Pam glanced at the children, playing around together in the pond, and cleared her throat to signal Mack's attention, discreetly lifting her foot and giving it a flick to imitate a kick. Mack's eyes went wide in the realization.

"Wait, today? Are you sure?"

Pam gestured to the kids and called out, "Dax, Gwen?"

The two of them came up to them, looking at their mother expectantly.

"Why don't you two go and spend the day with your friends," Pam suggested, "Me and your father are going to spend some time together."

"Yes!" said Dax, turning to leave.

"You better not be planning on having Kim kick you somewhere weird again," Gwen said to him, following behind.

"None of your business," Dax said, getting on the defense.

And before the two adults could gain any more context on the conversation, the two of them disappeared into the brush.

Pam smiled and took in the warm Spring air. As much as she'd loved their Migration to Jamaica and then to the Antarctic, and looked forward to their next one, it was nice to spend some time at home. The Spring air and the scent of growing life bought new energy to her.

It was the perfect weather for a kicking.

She turned to Mack, who shifted on his webbed feet uncertainly.

"You know Pam, I'm not sure I'm sure about this."

"Why not?" Pam asked, curious.

"Why not?!" Mack exclaimed, "Because it hurts!"

"Oh relax, I'm sure it's not so bad."

"Easy for you to say, you don't have to feel it!"

"Exactly, now you're getting into the spirit of it," Pam said, eyes lighting up joyfully, "You don't have to do anything, you just have to wait there to feel it, I'll be the one doing all the work! Before and after."

"Wait, that's not what I meant-" Mack began, unable to find the words to express to her how truly painful it was.

Pam could see the uncertainty in his eyes, as if he was not sure if he was ready to commit to that sort of pain. "Here, let me make it easy for you."

Before Mack could react, Pam lifted her webbed foot, and drove it right into the spot where his legs met, as hard as she could!

Mack's eyes went wide, he let out a stunned "Quack!" that only a duck like him could give.

And then Mack dropped, pain splattering through every nerve of the most vulnerable part of his body, worse than he ever could've remembered. He gave a squawk of pure agony.

Pam hadn't been sure if it was possible to really give a drake a full day of nestrest with just one move, but when she'd asked Uncle Dan about it, he seemed pretty confident in his reply.

"Oh sure," he'd said, "If you hit him just right, you'll get nothing else out of him for the rest of the day. That's what happened with me and my old friend Barbara. Hmm, I wonder what she's up to these days."

And it seemed as if he was right, the way Mack remained crumpled there, folded in on himself, Pam didn't think he'd be able to fend for himself for quite awhile.

"How about now?" Pam asked, "Do you feel you're up for a day of nestrest now?"

"Well I don't have much of a choice now!" Mack squawked harrowingously.

"Then it's settled," Pam said, turning to set to work on her tasks, making sure to give Mack just the subtlest demonstration of her tailfeathers as she went, "don't worry sweetheart, I'll make sure you're well taken care of."

"If only you could take care of stopping this pain," Mack moaned as she walked away. Pam could only give a slight snicker at this.

Pam's first task was to find some nice padding for their nest; the best way for a hen to take care of a downed husband was to make sure he had plenty of soft down to lay on.

She gathered some reeds and leaves, and brought them into the nest. Laying them down in a cozy fashion, she plucked some down feathers from herself and arranged them lovingly into the nest with the rest; it was a sacrifice, but for the fact the love of her life wasn't feeling good today, the sacrifice was worth it.

When she was done, she went to retrieve Mack. He was still laying there where she'd left him, moaning pitifully; the pain would just not stop!

"I prepared the nest for you," Pam told him sweetly.

"Good," Mack said, "Good luck getting me to it."

Pam hadn't thought of this.

"You can't walk?" she asked.

"If I was able to walk, I'd be walking right now," Mack pronounced.

Pam thought about this, "I suppose if you could walk, I'd just have to kick you again when we got there anyway to make sure your restday's been done efficient." She thought another moment, "Don't worry Mack, I'll figure out a way to get you to your nest, don't you worry."

At first, Pam tried picking him up, but the drake was just too heavy for the hen to manage. She tried to bring him to the nest by dragging him by the tail, but this just caused the moaning duck even more strain on his fragile male body.

"Ugh!" Mack cried as his barely wing-shielded underside hit a bump on the way to the nest, "If someone could just let me turn into a hen right now."

"Well that would take all the fun out of this," Pam, said through a beakful of his tailfeathers. But she couldn't blame him, her husband was clearly in a lot of pain, and being out here like this clearly wasn't making his situation any more comfortable. Realizing this wasn't working, Pam stopped and looked at him. 

"You know, I'm going to roll you," she decided finally, and proceeded to give her husband the duckroll treatment all the way to the nest.

She got him into the nest, and looked at him lovingly.

"There," she said, "you roll beautifully, of all the fluffy balls out there, you're in the top three."

"What are the other two?" Mack asked in pain-clouded confusion.

Pam just gave him a playful look, "Oh, I think you already know."

Mack's face went red.

Pam turned her attention back to the nest, and tucked him in gently with the leaves and her own down.

"Comfy?" she asked.

But Mack barely even noticed, he could still feel the exploding pain radiating in his most sensitives, and comfy was not the word he'd use to describe that. "How can you kick so hard?" He bawled out.

"It's a gift." Pam said, fluttering her eyes.

Mack could only moan.

"Let me go get your berries." Pam said sweetly before exiting the nest.

As Mack layed in the nest in the silence only broken by his own moans, Mack burrowed himself deeper into the nest. Despite the pain he still felt, he had to admit that focusing on the coziness of the leaves and of Pam's down she had so lovingly laid, helped to take some of the attention off the pain he felt in his-

"Pam kicked me in the ***s!" Mack cried, suddenly overwhelmed by the humiliation of this revelation.

Pam was outside, returning to the spot they had left the berries, when she noticed how silent it all was on the shore; out in the pond, the ducks were acting normal, but here...

Tsk!

Pam turned to look to see Kim hiding in the reeds. She gestured slowly for Pam to join her.

Pam slunk into the reeds beside the duck she knew would probably be her future daughter-in-law, and looked at her anxiously.

"Where are Dax and Gwen?"

"They're safe," Kim said, "Gwen's just making sure Dax doesn't lose that gag he has in his mouth."

Pam spun around to look at the young hen, too at shock to even ask what her and her son had even been up to. But Kim just pointed to the open space Pam had just come from, and Pam could see what the problem was. A mischievous looking fox was slinking out of the brush toward Pam and Mack's nest, drawn to the sound of Mack's pitiful moaning inside, the only sound that could be heard in the entire area.

Oh Mack! Pam thought, You really had to choose the worst of times to become incapacitated. Mack would've known how to take care of the dangerous fox without a problem, but Pam was a hen, what did she know about the dangers of the world and fending for one's family. Drakes, always becoming incapacitated at the worst of times.

Drakes... Pam paused, as the fox slunk toward her home and her unfortunate husband, something caught her attention with the flick of the fox's tail. She didn't think they were called 'drakes' in the fox's terminology, she didn't know what they were called, but she knew this fox was something similar to that word.

"Kim?" Pam said, "What do you know about the weaknesses of males?"

Kim's eyes lit up, "Oh, me and Dax practice that all the time."

Pam narrowed her eyes at her would-be-daughter-in-law, "We'll talk about that later." But despite her tone, she was secretly glad for her son, proud that he'd get to experience all the fun and entertainment her and Mack had been having as male and female.

She turned back to the fox, parting the reeds slightly with her wing as she once again took in the scene, the plan already fully formed in her head, "I don't know if you've noticed, but I believe this fox is a drake."

Kim's eyes lit up once more, "You mean...?"

Pam nodded, a sly look appearing on her face, "That's exactly what I'm thinking."

Kim was already on board, "This is perfect, there are two of us, and you know what drakes have two of?"

Pam could already feel herself running with it, feeling the enthusiasm rising, "So we can come at him from an angle, once from each side..."

The two looked at eachother, a silent agreement forming between them.

"Let's do it." They both said.

The fox made his way toward the nest, the subtle moans of the misfortune duck still making themselves heard. What did someone do to this poor creature to make him sound like that?

It didn't matter, he was about to be put out of his misery anyway.

But then the fox heard a sound, rustle in the bush; he flicked his head to look.

But then suddenly from the other side.

Before he could comprehend what was going on, two ducky hens were charging at him from inverted angles.

And then, as if in sync, the two hens flung themselves from the ground and shot out their forward webbed feet in a flying kick!

Now normally, duck feet would be nothing to a fox - if the target had been anything else, it would've been just a mere nuisance - he was a strong fox, he could take a blow - but they weren't aiming for anything else, and for that, it didn't take much.

Plus, there were two of them.

He knew he should've lowered his tail, but he didn't have time, and in less then a second, the two hens made contact, one left, one right, hitting him with perfect precision where only a tod could feel so sensitive.

The fox gave a pitiful yelp as he watched all his foxy dignity crumple away in a moment as he crumpled to the ground.

Pam and Kim landed on the ground giving upbeat cheers; Pam extended her tailfeathers victoriously, proudly showing off her inability to meet the same fate as the fox.

"Dax will be so proud when he hears about this," Kim said enthusiastically, also giving a shake to show pride in her tailfeather status.

The fox just moaned in masculine embarrassment as the two hens cheered in feminine pride.

Then, Pam turned to address the fox, ready to make a deal.

"No need to be ashamed, I'm sure you are a strong and abled young man," she said, "It's just a design flaw." She pointed to the nest, “My husband's in there going through the same thing."

"And my boyfriend in the brush," Kim piped up proudly.

"Tell you what," Pam told the fox, resting a wing on him, "You leave me and my husband- actually, this whole side of the pond alone, and we will keep quiet about this whole situation- except with my husband, I'm definitely telling him."

"And Dax," Kim added.

"What do you say?" Pam asked, glancing back at the fox.

"Nobody but you?" The fox asked.

"Nobody but us girls and our guys," Pam said, flexing her tailfeathers again, "And probably the whole pond. But no foxes."

The fox blushed, and unevenly rose to his feet.

"Make sure never to see me again," the fox said, "The name's Fink."

And then he dashed off into the woods, as quickly as he could with his newfound limp.

Pam turned to look back at Kim, "You better go and take care of my son now."

Kim nodded, and took back off for the trees.

Pam went back to where the berries were, and picked them up.

When she got back to the nest, Mack was there, easing himself up as best he could, given the situation, it could've been worse.

"Up for a few berries." Pam asked.

Mack took a few moments to consider, then, "I think I can manage a bite or two now."

Pam brought the berries over and laid them down for him, Mack began to pick at them, as best as he could with this kind of pain in mind, flinching whenever he moved himself too much.

"What took you so long?" Mack asked.

"Oh, I was just taking on a hungry fox," Pam said simply.

Mack's eyes went wide, "A fox!" He cried, "Here!?" He started to fret about, but the pain in his lower region was still too intense, it leveled him right back into the nest with a moan, he couldn't deal with a fox right now if he wanted to.

"Don't worry Mack," Pam said, laying a comforting wing on the folded up Mallard, "I took care of him."

Mack looked up at her, suddenly feeling the comfort of her presence, but the guilt of not doing more, "But protecting the family is my job," he said.

"And you do a great job," Pam said truthfully, "But I was aware of your unfortunate condition today- which is quite inconvenient I have to add."

Mack gave a weak chuckle, "How do you manage to make a kick to my you-know-whats so comforting?"

"You think it's comforting?" Pam asked, "You drakes have some biological issues you really need to figure out," but then her teasing expression softened, "But I'm willing to put in the extra work for you. Within reason. I'm not doing this every day, so don't be going out and having any other accidents."

"Not that those accidents would be a problem if you had saved your kicks for something a little less vulnerable in the first place."

"What's the fun in that?" Pam replied, shifting her tailfeathers once more to demonstrate the complexities of having to go through life without those kinds of vulnerabilities. Mack blushed knowing she knew full well how attractive that made her.

...

"I am a little thirsty," Mack admitted finally from inside his defensive ball.

Turns out, a good kick can do that to a duck.

"Of course sweetheart," said Pam, getting to her feet, and giving him a peck.

Pam went outside and retrieved Mack some water on a piece of curved-out bark, and returned to his side, giving him room to drink.

When he had finished:

"I found you some food, made your nest, got you water to drink... Is there anything else you need sweetheart?"

"I wouldn't mind the comfort of the hen I fell in love with," Mack decided weakly.

"Scoot over," Pam said, nesting down beside him; Mack moaned at the effort to move.

Feeling her warmth, Mack rested his body into her, and she rested her body back into his; even with his vulnerabilities, she felt the comfort of his strength and determination to protect his family, while also feeling the pride of her newfound knowledge that she could fend for herself. It was the two of them and they could rely on eachother both in their best and in their worst.

Then, Pam began to hum their song to him, a song she sometimes gave to him on days when he was down and not feeling well, to remind him how much she still loved him, to remind him that even on his weak days she would choose him again and again.

And in the warmth of Pam's soft feathers, Mack could feel just the smallest portion of his pain receding (it still hurt unbelievably massive, but ever less the so). Pam gave him another gentle peck on the cheek.

After awhile, after they had cozied up just enough, Pam shifted her tailfeathers and looked back at them thoughtfully.

"With all this talk of male vulnerability, I don't think we give nearly enough attention to what we hens have back there."

Mack went still.

"Well we could," he replied finally, "But I think you'll have to kick me again."

Pam's eyes lit up, "Wait, really?"

Mack regretted his words instantly. "Wait, I don't mean right this-"

But it was already too late, even slumped down in the nest like he was, Pam somehow managed to find her target and give it a swift kick. Mack gave a horrendous quack, and slumped down even further in his nest than he had been before, all the progress of recovery he'd been making shattered into something worse than before.

"Why does that have to hurt so much!" Mack cried.

"Because if it didn't you wouldn't have to be reminded why it doesn't hurt me at all," Pam said, jumping up and shaking her tailfeathers at him, slapping them in his face. Mack could only moan, no way to hide from the truth of his masculine angst.

Then, once again, Pam cozied up next to Mack, but making sure this time to position herself in a way that abled her to plop her tailfeathers onto him, a helpful constant reminder of why he was in this state and she was not.

But as they snuggled themselves together, they were again able to find a coziness in eachother's warmth, that though he was him and she was her, and he was in massive pain and she was not, they were here together, together in their differences that only made them want to draw closer together as one.

"Let me just say," said Mack when he had recovered again enough to speak, "You have beautiful tailfeathers."

Pam brightened up as she looked back at him.

"But the most beautiful thing about you," Mack continued, "Is you."

And then he bent forward and gave her cheek a peck.

Unfortunately, the shifting of his bodyweight caused another sharp pain to shoot through his vulnerables.

"But seriously, do you have to kick that hard?" Mack moaned, doubling over.

"Yes," Pam answered tersely.