Title: Afterwards
Title: Afterwards
Author: Ginny
Warnings: RPS
Disclaimer: These are real people and this didn't happen. I just borrowed the names and mean no harm at all.
Team: Detroit Red Wings
Pairing: Nick Lidstrom/Tomas Holmstrom/Chris Osgood
Rating: FRT-13
Challenge: 13prompts Prompt 11: Together
Summary: Nick gets hit by the puck, but he's not the only one affected
Author's Notes: Still sick, so I wrote myself H/C fic. Yes, Nick and Homer are cute together, but I like the Canadian goalie too so three instead of two. Many thanks to Kathie, Dee and Mer who accepted snippets and have put up with my whining for the past several days.
The startled whimper caught in Homer's throat as he watched, as if in slow motion, Nick jerk back and the puck bounce away, looking almost deceptively harmless. He stood, frozen to his spot as Nick waved and fell to his knees, but was moving an instant later.
"Nicky," he murmured as Piet and his assistants helped the older man up. The towel was pressed tight against Nick's face, but he could see the smear of blood leading from the wound up into Nick's blond hair.
"Tomas," Nick muttered to him as they helped him off of the ice.
Homer nodded, not needing Nick to finish the statement. He knew what Nick wanted him to do, but he also knew that he didn't need to. There was no way this would have gone unnoticed.
"I'll leave a message for you," Piet told him quietly and led Nick down the tunnel.
Homer took a deep breath, his chest tight with worry, and glanced at the scoreboard. The game really couldn't end soon enough.
~*~*~
Homer tossed the keys under the seat, locked the car and hiked up the collar of his jacket as he ducked to avoid the rain on his walk into the hospital.
"Tomas."
He turned at the call from the familiar voice. "Chris," he said softly. He waited for the other man to catch up with him and pulled him close for a brief moment before letting him go. "Did you see?"
Chris nodded as they both resumed their quick walk to the entrance. "I was on my way down here when Piet called to tell me where I was going," he said, a trace of humor in his voice. But then he sighed. "DMC. I hate coming here."
"For sure," Homer agreed quietly. He brushed the rain droplets off his face, steadying Chris when he slid slightly on the wet floor and they continued in.
"We're looking for Nicklas Lidstrom," Chris told the woman at the security desk.
"We're not allowing," she trailed off when she looked up and recognized them. "I can let you in, but the doctor is with him now," she told them.
"That's fine," Homer said quickly. He and Chris quickly signed in, accepted their visitors badges and made their way to the elevator and Nick.
They stopped at the nurses' station on the second floor before being directed to the waiting room. Nick was being treated and everyone was going to wait.
"What happened exactly?" Chris asked as they waited for others to join them. He knew Mike would stop by and Kris had already text messaged him to call him when he knew anything.
"Puck bounced off his stick," Homer said shortly. "Hit his face. Bounced away." He knew better than anyone on the team but the goalies just how much one of those flying pieces of rubber could hurt.
"Did it hit his eye?"
"I don't know. Don't think so."
Chris nodded and didn't push Homer any further.
"I hate this," Homer growled and jumped to his feet twenty minutes later to pace the small room.
"For sure," Chris tried to tease him, but Homer wasn't paying attention.
"What's taking them so long?" Homer snapped impatiently.
"It's Nick," Chris said, holding back his own worry. "They're going double and triple check to make sure they don't miss anything."
"It's taking too long."
"Tomas," Chris said softly. He waited until the Swede paused in his pacing and turned toward him. "It's going to be okay."
"What if it damaged his eye?"
"Then Mr. Illitch will bring in the best eye specialists in the country," Chris said.
"What if-"
"Whatever happens, we'll get through it," Chris promised him. "It's Nick. He's perfect and he'll be okay."
"You'd better be right," he said just as Mike walked in.
"Any news yet?"
"No," Homer said in exasperation. "I'm going to go - "
"Sit down," Chris interrupted him firmly, ignoring the furious glare Homer gave him. "We're waiting."
"Okay," Mike said and took a seat. He stared at Homer until he did as well. "Cheli and Drapes both told me to tell you that if you get the word about how he is to them, they'll make sure the rest of the team hears."
"Thanks," Chris murmured. That would be one less thing for them to worry about.
"Finally," Homer said loudly and jumped up as the doctor walked in. "How is he?"
"He'll be out in a few minutes," the doctor told them, glancing at the charts in his hand. His nurses had already told him that the men were Nick's emergency contacts. "The puck missed his eye, as Mr. Van Zant said when they came in. He has a broken nose and twenty-five stitches in his forehead to close the gash. He should be back on the ice by the end of the week once the swelling has gone down."
Homer breathed a deep sigh of relief. "That's great news, for sure," he mumbled.
"Mr. Lidstrom's been told everything he needs to do," the doctor went on. "If you have any questions, call me at any time."
"Thank you," Mike told him sincerely.
"Can't have the best defensemen in the league out for long," he said with a small grin and headed away to his next patient.
They waited impatiently for another few minutes before Mike spotted Nick being pushed in a wheelchair down the hallway.
"How do you feel?" Mike asked Nick first, despite Homer rushing past them all to Nick's side before they continued to the exit.
"Like I got hit by a puck," Nick answered.
Mike let out a slight chuckle. "I trust Homer'll get you home," he said. "Take care of yourself Nick. I'll see you in two days."
"You will," Nick answered. "Thanks Mike."
"Night guys," the coach said. "Don't forget Oz, you still have a game tomorrow."
"I know," Chris assured him. "And Homer won't forget practice either." Mike smiled in acknowledgment and disappeared back into the rain.
"I'll get the car," Homer murmured, letting his fingers brush lightly against Nick's arm before running out.
"Any pain pills or things we should pick up on the way home?" Chris asked while they waited.
"No," the nurse answered for Nick. "If he changes his mind tomorrow, we'll call one into the pharmacy."
"I won't," Nick said stubbornly, causing Chris to hide his smile.
"Thank you," he told her as Homer pulled up. She just nodded and pushed Nick outside, waiting until he was situated in Homer's SUV before going back into the hospital.
Chris and Homer both stood at the door, staring at Nick for several seconds.
"You're getting wet," Nick stated. He leaned back against the seat and closed his eyes with a soft sigh. His body seemed to be throbbing in time with his head.
"Uh-huh," Homer said.
"Don't do this again," Chris said suddenly.
"Do what?" Nick asked, opening his good eye to look at them.
"Get hurt during a game," Homer clarified. "We don't like it."
"It scares us."
"Don't do it again."
Nick gave them a slow smile and nodded. "I won't," he promised. "Now get out of the rain. I want to go home."
They stepped back and Homer closed the door carefully. "See you there?" he asked Chris. He took advantage of the rain, darkness and his car shielding them from anyone watching to take Chris' hand.
"Right behind you," Chris promised him.
Homer squeezed his hand. "Thank you."
Chris squeezed back, linking their fingers for a brief second before stepping back. "One of us had to be calm. Next time it's your turn."
Homer laughed and pulled his keys out of his pants pocket. "Deal," he agreed and walked around the car while Chris hurried across the parking lot.
They'd get Nick home and take care of him. And then, hopefully, they'd be able to forget this night and concentrate on winning the Cup again, as soon as their captain was healthy.
End.
Author: Ginny
Warnings: RPS
Disclaimer: These are real people and this didn't happen. I just borrowed the names and mean no harm at all.
Team: Detroit Red Wings
Pairing: Nick Lidstrom/Tomas Holmstrom/Chris Osgood
Rating: FRT-13
Challenge: 13prompts Prompt 11: Together
Summary: Nick gets hit by the puck, but he's not the only one affected
Author's Notes: Still sick, so I wrote myself H/C fic. Yes, Nick and Homer are cute together, but I like the Canadian goalie too so three instead of two. Many thanks to Kathie, Dee and Mer who accepted snippets and have put up with my whining for the past several days.
The startled whimper caught in Homer's throat as he watched, as if in slow motion, Nick jerk back and the puck bounce away, looking almost deceptively harmless. He stood, frozen to his spot as Nick waved and fell to his knees, but was moving an instant later.
"Nicky," he murmured as Piet and his assistants helped the older man up. The towel was pressed tight against Nick's face, but he could see the smear of blood leading from the wound up into Nick's blond hair.
"Tomas," Nick muttered to him as they helped him off of the ice.
Homer nodded, not needing Nick to finish the statement. He knew what Nick wanted him to do, but he also knew that he didn't need to. There was no way this would have gone unnoticed.
"I'll leave a message for you," Piet told him quietly and led Nick down the tunnel.
Homer took a deep breath, his chest tight with worry, and glanced at the scoreboard. The game really couldn't end soon enough.
~*~*~
Homer tossed the keys under the seat, locked the car and hiked up the collar of his jacket as he ducked to avoid the rain on his walk into the hospital.
"Tomas."
He turned at the call from the familiar voice. "Chris," he said softly. He waited for the other man to catch up with him and pulled him close for a brief moment before letting him go. "Did you see?"
Chris nodded as they both resumed their quick walk to the entrance. "I was on my way down here when Piet called to tell me where I was going," he said, a trace of humor in his voice. But then he sighed. "DMC. I hate coming here."
"For sure," Homer agreed quietly. He brushed the rain droplets off his face, steadying Chris when he slid slightly on the wet floor and they continued in.
"We're looking for Nicklas Lidstrom," Chris told the woman at the security desk.
"We're not allowing," she trailed off when she looked up and recognized them. "I can let you in, but the doctor is with him now," she told them.
"That's fine," Homer said quickly. He and Chris quickly signed in, accepted their visitors badges and made their way to the elevator and Nick.
They stopped at the nurses' station on the second floor before being directed to the waiting room. Nick was being treated and everyone was going to wait.
"What happened exactly?" Chris asked as they waited for others to join them. He knew Mike would stop by and Kris had already text messaged him to call him when he knew anything.
"Puck bounced off his stick," Homer said shortly. "Hit his face. Bounced away." He knew better than anyone on the team but the goalies just how much one of those flying pieces of rubber could hurt.
"Did it hit his eye?"
"I don't know. Don't think so."
Chris nodded and didn't push Homer any further.
"I hate this," Homer growled and jumped to his feet twenty minutes later to pace the small room.
"For sure," Chris tried to tease him, but Homer wasn't paying attention.
"What's taking them so long?" Homer snapped impatiently.
"It's Nick," Chris said, holding back his own worry. "They're going double and triple check to make sure they don't miss anything."
"It's taking too long."
"Tomas," Chris said softly. He waited until the Swede paused in his pacing and turned toward him. "It's going to be okay."
"What if it damaged his eye?"
"Then Mr. Illitch will bring in the best eye specialists in the country," Chris said.
"What if-"
"Whatever happens, we'll get through it," Chris promised him. "It's Nick. He's perfect and he'll be okay."
"You'd better be right," he said just as Mike walked in.
"Any news yet?"
"No," Homer said in exasperation. "I'm going to go - "
"Sit down," Chris interrupted him firmly, ignoring the furious glare Homer gave him. "We're waiting."
"Okay," Mike said and took a seat. He stared at Homer until he did as well. "Cheli and Drapes both told me to tell you that if you get the word about how he is to them, they'll make sure the rest of the team hears."
"Thanks," Chris murmured. That would be one less thing for them to worry about.
"Finally," Homer said loudly and jumped up as the doctor walked in. "How is he?"
"He'll be out in a few minutes," the doctor told them, glancing at the charts in his hand. His nurses had already told him that the men were Nick's emergency contacts. "The puck missed his eye, as Mr. Van Zant said when they came in. He has a broken nose and twenty-five stitches in his forehead to close the gash. He should be back on the ice by the end of the week once the swelling has gone down."
Homer breathed a deep sigh of relief. "That's great news, for sure," he mumbled.
"Mr. Lidstrom's been told everything he needs to do," the doctor went on. "If you have any questions, call me at any time."
"Thank you," Mike told him sincerely.
"Can't have the best defensemen in the league out for long," he said with a small grin and headed away to his next patient.
They waited impatiently for another few minutes before Mike spotted Nick being pushed in a wheelchair down the hallway.
"How do you feel?" Mike asked Nick first, despite Homer rushing past them all to Nick's side before they continued to the exit.
"Like I got hit by a puck," Nick answered.
Mike let out a slight chuckle. "I trust Homer'll get you home," he said. "Take care of yourself Nick. I'll see you in two days."
"You will," Nick answered. "Thanks Mike."
"Night guys," the coach said. "Don't forget Oz, you still have a game tomorrow."
"I know," Chris assured him. "And Homer won't forget practice either." Mike smiled in acknowledgment and disappeared back into the rain.
"I'll get the car," Homer murmured, letting his fingers brush lightly against Nick's arm before running out.
"Any pain pills or things we should pick up on the way home?" Chris asked while they waited.
"No," the nurse answered for Nick. "If he changes his mind tomorrow, we'll call one into the pharmacy."
"I won't," Nick said stubbornly, causing Chris to hide his smile.
"Thank you," he told her as Homer pulled up. She just nodded and pushed Nick outside, waiting until he was situated in Homer's SUV before going back into the hospital.
Chris and Homer both stood at the door, staring at Nick for several seconds.
"You're getting wet," Nick stated. He leaned back against the seat and closed his eyes with a soft sigh. His body seemed to be throbbing in time with his head.
"Uh-huh," Homer said.
"Don't do this again," Chris said suddenly.
"Do what?" Nick asked, opening his good eye to look at them.
"Get hurt during a game," Homer clarified. "We don't like it."
"It scares us."
"Don't do it again."
Nick gave them a slow smile and nodded. "I won't," he promised. "Now get out of the rain. I want to go home."
They stepped back and Homer closed the door carefully. "See you there?" he asked Chris. He took advantage of the rain, darkness and his car shielding them from anyone watching to take Chris' hand.
"Right behind you," Chris promised him.
Homer squeezed his hand. "Thank you."
Chris squeezed back, linking their fingers for a brief second before stepping back. "One of us had to be calm. Next time it's your turn."
Homer laughed and pulled his keys out of his pants pocket. "Deal," he agreed and walked around the car while Chris hurried across the parking lot.
They'd get Nick home and take care of him. And then, hopefully, they'd be able to forget this night and concentrate on winning the Cup again, as soon as their captain was healthy.
End.