(no subject)
Title: Over Time
Chapter: Fifteen
Author: firiel77
Word Count: 9986
Warnings: WIP, angst fest, schmoop, misunderstandings, regrets, men being silly and uncommunicative.
Rating:NC17 for the most part.
Fandom Hockey RPS
Pairings: Sidney Crosby/Alexander Ovechkin
Summary: Set several years in the future. Sid’s taking stock of his life and finds he’s thinking about Ovie more and more. Only thing is, he doesn’t know what he wants. Ovie knows what he wants. He just doesn’t know how to get it. And so it goes.
Beta: Thank you so much sarcasmcat for stepping in and offering to beta this thing. I’m most grateful and I’m sure readers will be too.
Disclaimer: It’s fan fiction people.
Feedback: Sure. Let me know what’s working for you.
Authors Notes: Warning. I’ve read a grand total of one fic in this fandom but I LOVED IT and I wanted to give writing a shot. Bear with me if I get things wrong. I’m not really familiar with the canon. I’m just hoping that if I set it far enough in the future that no one will notice I don’t know what the hell I’m talking about. Yes, I’m totally making shit up. Hope it flies.
Previous Chapters
The first thing Sid is aware of is a dull pounding as if someone is knocking on a door far away. As his muddled thought processes clear slightly he realizes it is someone knocking on a door, his door; loudly and insistently. Sid briefly considers trying to get up but the effort required to even open his eyes is too much. Lifting his head, never mind standing, would be out of the question. He drifts off again.
The next time Sid wakes up it’s because someone has grabbed hold of his shoulders and is shaking the ever-loving shit out of him. His head flops back and forth and he struggles up from unconsciousness mostly so that he can slap whoever is doing this to him because it’s making his head pound. He lets out a groan and blindly tries to bat away whoever is doing this to him. All he wants is to go back to sleep.
He can hear muffled voices, or maybe they aren’t that muffled after all, because there seems to be a certain amount of urgency in what’s being said. It’s just not making much of an impression on Sid. He’s just so damn tired. He wishes they’d keep it down a bit and would just stop with the shaking.
The voice above him gets louder and more difficult to ignore. He can hear his name being repeated over and over again. Finally Sid is shocked into consciousness by a stinging slap to the face. It takes all the effort he can muster to open his heavy eyelids enough to focus on his attacker. It’s Geno staring down at him tensely.
“Fuck, Sidney,” he says.
Sid wants to ask Geno why he’s there in his apartment instead of on the road playing hockey and maybe winning a Stanley Cup or something but his mouth doesn’t seem to be working right now. Instead he tries to shut his eyes again.
Geno isn’t having any of it. Sid hears a string of muttered words in Russian and then he’s shaken awake again, hard enough to make his teeth rattle together.
“Don’t you fucking dare sleep, Sidney,” Geno mutters angrily.
Sid looks up at him blearily and his eyelids flicker again. When Geno lifts his hand to slap him again though, Sid shakes himself awake and tries to pull away.
He licks his dry lips and manages to get out, “Stop.”
“Stay awake,” Geno warns him.
Sid nods at him and struggles to rouse himself enough to take in his surroundings. Geno is there but so are Selander and Krylov. The two of them are hovering behind Geno, each one peering over a shoulder with tense and worried expressions. Sid glances back at Geno and notices his normally heavily lidded eyes are wide open. Despite his steady tone he looks slightly panicked. There’s no doubt Sid’s scared the hell out of them.
Once he’s ascertained that Sid is still alive Geno relaxes enough to give him a closer once over. His lip curls in distaste when he notices that Sid’s t-shirt is streaked with stains; he’s obviously vomited all over himself at some point. When Geno lets go of his shirt and lets him fall back can’t blame him. The sour smell is threatening to make him throw up again himself and Sid has to swallow hard to keep the bile down. Geno immediately notices and distances himself a little, at least getting out of the line of fire.
He looks back at Krylov and Selander and tells them, “Shower.”
Sid is slung over the two younger men’s shoulders and dragged to his bathroom where he’s propped on the toilet seat just long enough to get his soiled clothing off and then deposited in the tub. No one wants to get too close or for too long. Geno turns on the shower without adjusting the temperature so the first blast that hits him is ice cold. Sid lets out a gasp but it does shock him awake.
Geno sits down on the edge of the tub and stares at Sid balefully. He doesn’t look as shit scared anymore. Now he just looks pissed off and really tired. His hair is sticking out in all directions as if he’d been sleeping and Sid wonders what time it is. He’s slowly becoming more aware and vaguely wonders what brought the guys over to his place.
He wipes the water out of his eyes and asks, “What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be playing somewhere?”
Geno snorts and then shakes his head. “You not follow your team, Sid. All over. We lost. Out.”
“Sorry,” Sid says. He looks out the bathroom window. It looks dark out. He squints up at Geno. “What time is it?”
Geno looks even angrier if that’s possible and leans down over Sid before telling him, “Is middle of night, Sidney. Mom phone me. Afraid you do something stupid. Ask me to come right over and check on you.”
He shakes his head in disgust. “You phone mom and leave crazy message? Was stupid, Sid. Scare her to death. Was afraid you dead.”
Sid just sits there and lets the water pelt down on him. He can barely recall phoning his mom and he has no idea how long ago it was. It’s all a blur. He thinks about his parents and how he’s frightened them and shuts his eyes in shame.
Krylov enters the room and Geno starts telling him something in Russian. Krylov turns to the medicine cabinet and starts removing the medications Sid has in there. He takes them all away and Sid follows him desolately with his eyes. He could use something about now. His head is starting to pound.
“Where’s he going with that?” Sid asks Geno. He gets no answer.
Instead Geno tosses him a face cloth and tells him, “Wash off. Then we talk.”
Sid grabs the soap and cleans up as best he can. When he’s done Geno turns off the water, helps him up, and gives him a towel. Selander appears with a pair of sweats and a t-shirt and he and Geno steady Sid while he pulls them on. He’s still feeling dizzy and having a hard time coordinating his movements. When he’s done Geno and Selander hoist his arms over their shoulders again and march him back into the living room and deposit him on the couch.
Sid sees that the boys have been busy. All his painkillers have been gathered and are sitting on the coffee table in front of him. They’ve also collected all the full and empty vodka bottles from around the condo. Together with all the pill bottles it looks pretty bad. Sid looks up at Geno and gets a blank stare. He’s not looking forward to what the Russian has to say. Sid tries feebly to explain.
“It’s for my headaches. The doctors prescribed them,” Sid tells the guys. He has to admit it sounds pretty lame in the face of what’s in front of him. Especially all the vodka bottles; did he really drink that much vodka?
Sid doesn’t have to wait long. Geno lets out a long breath and looks right at Sid. “Give me one reason I don’t phone Mario. Get you put in rehab?” he demands.
Sid swallows. He thinks about it, the scandal, having to tell his family, and he quickly shakes his head. “No, don’t,” he tells Geno. “I’ll stop.”
Geno doesn’t look like he believes him. Sid’s not sure he believes himself except that it’s just now starting to dawn on him how stupid he’s been.
“No, I will,” he insists. “I have to.....” he drops off. Sid’s not sure who exactly he’s trying to convince.
Geno makes a disgusted noise and heads to the kitchen. He comes back with the garbage can and to Sid’s horror he takes all the pills and scoops them into the pail. “Time to start,” he tells Sid.
“Not all of them,” Sid gasps. He looks at Geno pleadingly when the few remaining bottles of vodka are taken and left by the front door.
Krylov says something in Russian and Geno snorts. Sid doesn’t think anything is too funny. He’s starting to feel panic stricken. To give the other man credit, Geno doesn’t really look like he’s finding the situation funny either. Sid can’t remember ever seeing him look more serious. Sid knows he means business.
“Right now?” he asks shakily.
Selander steps up behind Geno and tells Sid, “We’ll help. You don’t have to do this by yourself, Sid.”
Krylov is there too and he nods in agreement. Geno nods back and turns to Sid and smiles for the first time. It doesn’t last long. He says something to Krylov in Russian and Sid watches forlornly while he and Selander take away all the drugs and alcohol. He gives Geno a bleak look but gets no sympathy.
“No more, Sid.”
Sid nods glumly and then yawns. He’s still feeling groggy and hung over. He’s still got a lot of drugs and alcohol in his system and his mouth is dry. As if reading his mind Selander returns with a bottle of water and hands it to Sid. He opens it and takes a couple cautious sips, not sure how it’s going to sit. He drinks a couple more mouthfuls before putting the top back on.
“I think I’m going to go lie down for a while,” he tells the others. “I don’t feel too good.”
“Okay, Sid,” Geno tells him. “I go home. Tell Natasha you still alive.”
Sid winces at his tone and the fact he’s obviously worried her as well. “Sorry, man,” he tells Geno. As an afterthought he adds, “Can you call my mom?”
Geno frowns at him and then tells Sid, “Already did.”
He says no more but on his way by he puts his hand on Sid’s shoulder and gives it a squeeze before telling him, “Guys stay with you. I come back and check later.”
**************************************
When Sid wakes up again he’s got no idea what time it is. The condo is quiet and dark. He needs to take a piss so he pulls himself shakily out of bed and makes his way to his bathroom. When he’s done he splashes cold water on his face and takes a moment to look at himself in the mirror. He looks pale and tense and the light makes his head hurt so he turns it off and crawls back into bed. He can’t get warm so he pulls up his knees and curls into a ball while he waits to fall back to sleep.
The next time Sid opens his eyes Geno is standing over him with his arms crossed. He’s still got his coat on as though he’s just come in from outdoors. Sid rubs a hand over his face and then pushes himself up so that he’s sitting at the edge of the bed. His head swims. Without thinking he starts rocking back and forth, his arms tightly clasped across his chest.
“How you feel, Sid,” Geno asks.
Sid squints while he takes inventory of his body. It doesn’t take long to figure out the answer. “Like shit,” he tells the other man.
He feels like he needs to move. It’s like he can’t sit still, like his legs are screaming at him to get up and move, and he would except his body hurts so badly. His head, his back, every muscle and joint in his body aches. This is worse than any hangover he’s ever had, worse than the ache of a really tough workout, worse than any injury he’s experienced. His stomach cramps up on him and he pulls his knees up to his chest in an attempt to alleviate it.
A wave of nausea hits him and he fights to control it, concentrating on breathing his way through it - deep breath in, breathe slowly out. It’s not working.
“I feel sick,” Sid gasps out and then staggers to his feet. Geno puts a steadying hand on his shoulder and helps him to the bathroom where Sid drops to his knees in front of the toilet. Only a little bitter tasting fluid comes up but Sid can’t seem to stop his body from heaving over and over again.
When he finally stops retching Geno wets a cloth and hands it to Sid so he can wipe off his face. He collapses onto his hip, leaning against the wall, propped up between the toilet and the cabinetry, his head lolling to the side. He shuts his eyes as he’s hit by another wave of nausea.
“Fuck,” he manages to get out.
Geno makes a sympathetic noise and then wets a towel and lays it across his forehead. He leans forward and flushes the toilet and the noise next to his head makes Sid wince in pain. He gulps down air and struggles not to hurl again. When he opens his eyes he sees that Geno has wisely pulled back out of range.
“Sorry,” he gets out between breaths.
“Is okay, Sid,” Geno tells him. “I seen you get sick before.”
Sid shakes his head. It’s true. Geno’s been around for more than one of his ill fated drinking episodes but nothing like this. Sid’s never been through anything like this before. He’s not sure why Geno is taking this on but Sid definitely going to owe him one.
Sid’s getting cold. He’s starting to shake so he struggles back to his feet. Now that the dry heaves have stopped he needs to get back to bed. The room spins and he has to sit back down on the toilet. Geno is there at his side immediately, steadying him and when Sid finally nods that he’s ready to try to get up again he wraps an arm around Sid’s waist and helps him to his feet. They make their unsteady way back to the bed and Sid crawls in and pulls his legs up in the fetal position.
Geno pulls the covers up over him, brings him some towels, and as an afterthought positions a garbage can at the side of the bed. Sid follows his movements with one eye until he has to clench them shut as another bout of shakes overcome him. When it finally passes Sid lets out a long breath, his legs still moving restlessly under the covers.
“Thanks for doing this,” he manages to get out.
Geno shakes his head and tells him, “I don’t do anything yet.”
“Yeah. You have,” Sid assures him through clenched teeth.
********************************
And that’s how Sid ends up going cold turkey. He spends the next two weeks confined to his condo under the watchful but compassionate eye of Geno, Selander and Krylov. Sid’s seen movies where characters go through withdrawal but he’d thought it only happened with shit like heroin. He’d had no idea what it could be like to come off prescription pain killers. After the first day when it gets really bad he’s afraid he’s going to die. Later, when the nausea and aching pain get even worse, he’s afraid he won’t.
Sid hurts from retching over and over again and his body is racked with shaking chills. The sheets are drenched in cold sweat and he tosses fitfully, unable to sleep for more than fifteen minutes at a time. The first night Selander does some research on the internet and finds out the withdrawal could last fifteen days. Sid’s not sure he can last that long. He’s not the only one.
On the third day Geno is back and tries to convince Sid to get medical help. Geno has gone from being frightened of Sid’s condition, to being angry, to being determined, right back to being scared again. Sid is lying on the floor of the bathroom where he’s shut himself, refusing to leave. It’s the only practical solution. Sid can’t be far from the toilet. He’s embarrassed himself by soiling the bed more than once.
Geno changes the sheets and then opens the bathroom door, finding Sid curled on the floor, his legs twitching, his knees hugged to his chest. Geno practically carries him back to bed, making sure his underwear are as clean as the fresh sheets and tries to talk to Sid about checking into rehab until the medication is out of his system. Sid refuses.
“Didn’t know it would be this bad, Sid,” Geno tells him. “You sure you don’t want doctor? Can give you something to help, maybe?”
“No.” Sid’s voice is flat and tired, but adamant. “No more doctors. No hospital.”
“Sid, please.....”
“No, I mean it,” Sid grinds out through clenched teeth.
Geno looks like he’s going to argue but Sid cuts him off. “Just drop it. Please. I got myself into this mess. Let me fix it. I can do this. Please,” he repeats.
Geno doesn’t mention medical help again but that doesn’t stop him from worrying over Sid as he continues to fight the withdrawal symptoms. The others worry too. The three of them take turns watching Sid. Each time he opens his eyes one of them is in the room with him, usually in the recliner beside the bed. They stay close at hand in case he needs help to the bathroom.
They keep the lights off because Sid finds the brightness makes the pain in his head ten times worse. They speak in hushed voices, keeping the condo soothingly quiet. Sharp noises make Sid jump and his shaking worse so that he has to hang onto himself to keep from flying apart. Unaccountably his nose won’t stop running. It’s not until later that he’s told it’s yet another symptom of the withdrawal.
The next time Sid’s aware the temperature in the room seems to have changed. From shaking with cold he’s now become uncomfortably hot. He rolls over in bed and kicks the covers off. His tee-shirt is clinging in damp patches to his skin, and his forehead is covered with sweat. Selander gets up from the chair, wets a washcloth with cool water in the bathroom and crouches down next to Sid. He wipes Sid’s sweaty face with gentle strokes.
“It’s fucking hot in here,” Sid tells him.
“Want me to open a window?” Selander asks him.
“In my brain, maybe. Can you do that?” Sid asks him more sharply than he intends. Then he opens his eyes and tells him, “I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve that.”
Selander continues to press the cold cloth to Sid’s forehead. “Don’t worry about it.”
Sid does worry about it though. It’s not like him to be intentionally rude. It’s just that he feels so fucking bad it’s making him irritable. He’s silent for a minute. Selander picks up a glass from the bedside and hands it wordlessly to Sid. Sid takes the straw and has a cautious sip of the Gatorade. It’s cool on his parched lips and he takes another although he’s careful not to drink too much. He knows from experience that his stomach will rebel. After a couple more mouthfuls he shakes his head and pushes the glass away. He watches through dull eyes as Selander puts the glass down again.
"How long has it been?" he finally asks.
"Six days."
"Shit.”
He’s been hoping, no praying, that the withdrawal pain will abate. He can’t believe he’s endured six days. Even worse, he may have to endure much more. But no matter how bad he feels Sid won’t give in. He refuses to ask for his medications. He can’t humiliate himself by begging for them, not when the guys have done so much for him already. Sid knows that if he gives in he’ll be letting them down. He shuts his eyes again and tries to relax, to will himself back to sleep so that time can pass more quickly.
It’s easy to lose track of time. The days are a gray dimness of drawn shades and aching red pain. Nights are darker, marked by more quiet, the same red pain and a gnawing emptiness that keeps him awake when all he seeks is the oblivion of sleep. One night he’s overcome by despair and can’t help but sob into the pillow, hoping he doesn’t wake Krylov who’s sleeping in the chair beside him.
He’s got no idea how many days and dark nights he’s been in his room. Too weak and tired to do anything but lie here, in too much pain to do little else than concentrate on the hope that it would be over soon. Sid knows he will come out whole at the end of this. It’s just hard to believe when he feels so terrible.
There’s no clock in the room so he’s not sure, but Sid thinks that when he sleeps now, he’s sleeping for longer periods of time. His life has been ruled by schedules for so long, it feels disconcerting not to know what time it is. Sid takes it as a positive sign that this is bothering him. He’s not sure, but he thinks the aching pain is ebbing slightly and he’s not thrown up the sips of Gatorade he’s been given in at least a day. He feels inordinately proud of this small accomplishment.
Sid shifts his head on the pillow, resisting the urge to twitch his foot. He’s fairly certain it’s night, and sometime late at night. Selander must have opened the window because Sid can feel a cooling breeze across his skin. The dim light coming from the bathroom is enough to see that there’s no one in the room with him. Whoever’s shift it is, they must be elsewhere at the moment although Sid can hear no sound from the rest of the condo. The world is night time quiet and Sid drops off to sleep again.
The next morning when Sid wakes he sees Geno is asleep in the recliner. Sid pushes himself upright, his legs over the side of the bed and waits for his head to stop spinning before he gets shakily to his feet. He needs to piss in the worst way. Geno snores softly as Sid passes but shows no signs of waking.
When Sid gets back from the bathroom Geno is awake. He stretches and rubs his face with a hand and pushes himself out of the lounger while Sid watches. Geno scowls at him.
“Should have waited for help, Sid,” he tells him.
“I can piss on my own,” Sid challenges.
All he gets is a derisive snort in reply. Sid knows very well that this is the first time he’s managed on his own in a while. Normally he’s been held upright by one or two others while he attempts to hit the toilet. Several times that has even been too much for him and Sid can recall one bad night when he’d managed to piss on both Geno and Krylov.
Sid looks down and pulls at the waistband of his boxers. They are swimming on him. He’s lost a lot of weight but for the first time since they started he feels like he could eat something. As if to confirm the thought, his stomach rubbles loudly. Geno hears it.
“Hungry?” he asks Sid.
“Maybe,” he says. “Yeah, I think I might be.”
He sees some of his sweat pants on the dresser and picks them up. Geno is at his side in a second and steadies him while he pulls them on. He pulls open a drawer and grabs one of his t-shirts. The living room is empty when they get there although the controllers for Sid’s video game system are still on the coffee table. The door to the spare bedroom is closed so Sid assumes one of the other guys is sleeping in.
He climbs up on one of the chairs at the island and watches as Geno gets out a pot and measures out water and puts it on the stove to boil while he gets out the oatmeal. In a few minutes he sets down a small bowl of plain oatmeal in front of Sid and then pours him a glass of milk. He watches quietly while Sid takes a cautious mouthful. It’s probably been at least a week since he’s had solid food.
The oatmeal is bland, almost tasteless, but it’s warm and it fills the empty spot inside Sid so he keeps eating, taking small mouthfuls and washing it down with cold milk. Best of all his stomach is showing no signs of throwing it all back up. Sid can’t remember a time where eating something felt so good. When he’s finished he pushes the bowl away and looks up at Geno.
“Thanks.”
“Was good?” Geno asks him.
When Sid nods Geno smiles at him. “That’s enough for now, okay? Krylov read on internet that start with small meals. Simple things. Until body is ready for more.”
“Yeah, that sounds good,” Sid agrees. He feels like he could eat more but he knows Geno is right. It’s been a while and he doesn’t want to push it. He wants to do this right, especially now that he’s making progress. The past week has been the hardest of his entire life, even worse than waking up after his injury or the first couple months of physio. He’s determined to do things right, starting now.
Now that he’s eaten Sid becomes aware of how he smells. He’s been in bed, or on the bathroom floor, for days, often drenched in a sweat. He’s getting pretty ripe smelling although his clothes are clean. He vaguely remembers his boxers and t-shirts being changed and the bed stripped, soiled linens exchanged for clean. He’s not been in the shower the whole time and it’s apparent by the odor emanating from him.
“I smell like ass,” Sid tells Geno.
Geno shrugs dismissively but then tells him, “Yeah, maybe time for shower? I help you if you want?”
“I can do it on my own,” Sid tells him. Geno looks sceptical when Sid wobbles a little as he slides off the chair.
“No. I come with you, Sid. Get shower ready at least.”
They make their halting way to Sid's bathroom. He feels as weak as a kitten. Geno sits him on the toilet seat and pulls his t-shirt over his head before turning and adjusting the water in the shower. When he’s got it right he pulls Sid up and helps him out of his sweat pants and boxers and then guides Sid onto the bench.
He hands Sid the shower gel and a facecloth and tells him, “I get clean clothes. You wash. Do your hair. Is gross, Sidney.”
Sid can’t help but laugh weakly. “You should have been a nurse.”
“Yeah. Maybe if hockey not work out.”
Geno picks up his discarded clothes and then tells him, “I leave towel out. Call if need anything, Sid.”
Sid leans back against the wall and shuts his eyes as the warm water runs down over his face. He feels like he’s been through the toughest series he’s ever played but for the first time he feels like he’s going to make it.
*************************************
It’s not easy. Getting off the Vicodin is the hardest thing he’s ever had to do. Selander and Krylov move in with Sid and stay with him day and night over the next couple weeks, postponing their flight home to Europe for the summer. Geno is over every day checking on Sid, doing whatever he can to help.
The worst of the withdrawal symptoms have gone but Sid is still left with headaches that can only be treated with Tylenol. He watches movies to try to distract himself from them, or tries to nap until they pass. Without the Vicodin or alcohol he finds he’s again prone to anxiety attacks that he is powerless to prevent. One of them is so bad Geno ends up pulling Sid down onto the couch from his ceaseless pacing and holding him, talking to him until he can calm himself. It’s scary as hell.
Selander and Krylov do the cooking and take turns going out to shop. They watch movies or play games with Sid to while away the time, there for support and encouragement. Sid is getting stronger, feeling better, but always in the background is the gnawing craving for the pain pills. Even if his body doesn’t need them so much anymore his mind still wants them. Sid is determined to keep up the fight.
It’s a testament to how preoccupied he is with his struggle that it takes him so long to realize that Krylov and Selander are sharing a bed. When Sid finally mentions it the second week, how it’s probably not that comfortable for them both in the one room they both laugh at him and shake their heads.
“What?” Sid asks.
“Is okay, Sid,” Krylov tells him. “We used to sharing.”
Selander lets out another hoot of amusement. And that’s when it finally dawns on Sid that the two of them are lovers. It’s taken him a hell of a long time to figure that one out although now it seems obvious. And then Sid realizes that the team has known all along and that no one probably cares. It makes his life even more futile and depressing than it already was.
Selander’s just done a photo shoot for Vogue for fuck sake. Krylov has done a series of high profile endorsements. They are both poster boys for Sports Illustrated’s sexiest athletes and have legions of fans, both men and women. So much for morality clauses Sid thinks. Fuck.
Selander notices when Sid falls quiet and studies him a moment before asking, “You okay, Sid?”
Sid shakes his head ruefully. “Just thinking I should have clued in by now.”
Krylov gives his typical shrug. “Is not like we make big deal of it.”
The Russian has the same calm, fatalistic outlook on things that Alex always had and the memory jars at Sid a little. Not for the first time he wishes he’d done things differently when he had the chance but it doesn’t change anything. There’s no point in dwelling on the past.
“I admire you guys,” Sid tells them both, shaking his head. “You’re better than me.”
Selander gives Sid a pat on the shoulder. “We all do things in our own time,” he tells him.
All Sid can do is nod glumly.
*******************************
After six weeks Sid’s pretty sure he’s going to make it. It’s time to go home and see his parents. It’s also time to let Selander and Krylov go home and get on with their lives in Europe. He owes them a lot, he knows that, probably his life. Geno’s over for dinner one night and Sid tells them how much he appreciates what they’ve done and tells them he’s ready to go home for the summer. Geno nods solemnly and the squeezes his shoulder before he starts clearing the table.
While the guys clean up Sid goes to his room and phones home. It’s a call he hasn’t been looking forward to. He hasn’t talked to his parents, either of them, since everything started. He’d been too sick and then too ashamed of himself to call. Sid knows Geno has been talking to his parents often, letting them know that Sid’s alright, but he’s only told them that Sid would call when he was ready. It’s time.
Sid’s mom picks up the phone after the first ring and catches him by surprise. He’s still trying to think what’s he’s going to say to them when he hears the familiar voice and immediately chokes up. He knows he’s scared the shit out of them.
“Hey, mom,” he finally gets out.
“Sidney? Oh god. We’ve been so worried about you. Are you okay?” she asks immediately.
“Yeah. I’m good, mom. I mean, I’m a lot better.” Before he can lose his nerve he keeps going. “I’m really sorry I worried you. I should have called sooner but I was having hard time. I’m really, really sorry.”
“Oh baby, it’s alright. Geno’s been calling us. As long as you’re alright now.” His mom hesitates a moment before asking, “What’s been going on, honey?”
“Can we talk about it when I come home, mom?” he asks.
“Of course, Sidney. When will that be?”
“This weekend. I’ll let you know what flight. Okay?”
“Do you want your dad and I to pick you up?” she asks immediately.
Sid feels a warm wave of affection for his mom and dad. He just really needs to be home. He’s slightly surprised when he has to wipe a couple stray tears off his cheeks. “Yeah, that’d be good.”
“Okay, honey. Just phone and let me know the flight. We’re all looking forward to seeing you. Everyone’s been asking when you’d be home.”
Sid smiles at that although he’s not sure he wants to see everyone just yet.
“Mom?” he asks. “Is it okay if I stay in my room?”
“You don’t want to stay out at your place?”
“I don’t think I should,” Sid tells her. “At least, not for a while. I’ve still got some things I need to work out. And I’d just rather be at home. If that’s okay,” he adds softly.
“Of course it is, honey. It’ll always be your room. You’re welcome any time.”
And so Sid flies home like he does every summer only this year he moves back into his old room, into the double bed he slept in his whole childhood, surrounded by all his childhood hockey memorabilia. It’s partly for practical reasons because he still can’t drive but it’s really just great to be home.
He spends the first couple weeks helping his dad rebuild the deck on the beach cottage. It’s good to get outside and do something physical, concentrate on something else besides how much he’d like a drink or a couple vics. Sid’s still pretty weak and has to take it slow but he can help with the table saw and actually screwing the deck boards down is good for his hand eye coordination.
He comes clean to his parents about his problems with alcohol and prescription pain killers. He assures them how determined he is to never let it happen again. His parents suggest he get some counselling and Sid reluctantly agrees. He feels like it’s the least he can do after what he’s put them through.
He starts seeing a guy who does substance abuse counselling and finds it actually helps. At least he gives Sid some tools for chronic pain management and some new techniques to try when he gets his anxiety attacks. It’s all easier said than done but Sid’s game to try anything that might help. So long as he never ends up on the bathroom floor, curled around the toilet and puking his guts out again.
Sid’s parents half-heartedly suggest he go out with his buddies but he tells them no. This isn’t the time for it. He’s not ready. There’s no way he wants to put himself in a position where he’ll give in to temptation. The bar scene would be far, far too much temptation. No, he’s all about staying home and keeping a low profile. He watches a lot of sports with his dad.
At the end of the summer he’s feeling stronger and a hell of a lot healthier. The days spent outdoors working around the house or fishing have left him tanned and his hair, longer than he’s used to keeping it, is bleached light from the sun. He hasn’t been to a gym or any physiotherapy but he’s been walking with his mom and his gait has improved considerably. He’s had only a few headaches, none of them severe, and best of all he’s been seizure free. Like his councillor tells him, “one step at a time”.
His parents want him to stay on. They don’t see what the point is in returning to Pittsburgh when he can’t play anymore. Sid’s not entirely sure either but he wants to go anyway. There’s just too much baggage in Halifax for him. Everyone knows who he is and he’ll always be that poor Crosby kid who had such a great career before he got hurt so bad. Everywhere he goes there’s someone who has a sympathetic look or a kind word for him. Sid knows they all mean well but it still gets him down.
He needs the anonymity of a city the size of Pittsburgh where even though he was a professional athlete, a hell of a lot of people still don’t recognize him when he’s out. Hockey is just one of the games in town. Sid knows he needs to build himself a life outside of hockey and at least in Pittsburgh he’s got the team and his friends. It’s become a second home to him.
He asks Jordie to pick him up at the airport. He’s hoping he gets the green light to drive again when he sees his neurologist next but in the mean time Jordie moves in and takes on the roll of designated driver. Sid’s knows he’s damn lucky to have the people around him he does. His other team mates drop by often or invite him over for dinner and although he’s sure it’s Mario or Geno behind everything Sid’s not calling anyone on it. He knows it’s for the best that he’s not on his own right now even though the vodka stockpile is long gone. Geno probably drank it all, the bastard.
**************************************
Sid settles back into a routine of sorts in Pittsburgh, one very different than previous, a life without playing hockey. Where other years he now would be ramping up his fitness training in preparation for training camp this season Sid takes it easy. He does go back to physiotherapy in the hopes it will alleviate the deficits left by his head injury. He also drags his bike out of storage and rides along with Jordie while he runs, heckling him during his wind sprints.
Jordie takes him in to see Dr. James for his follow up appointment. She sends him for more tests and some rigorous neuro assessments and then finally tells him he’s free to drive. It’s a huge relief not to be dependent on others for his transportation. And it comes just in time. Training camp is starting and Jordie’s time is quickly getting tied up with hockey. It won’t be long before the season starts and the team will be away on the road half the time.
Sometimes Sid goes to the rink to work out in the gym with the guys. The trainers adjust his routine and he gamely works out but it’s hard to push himself when there’s no reason. Sid puts on his skates a couple times and does a few turns around the ice while the guys are warming up. He’s come a long way but he’s not kidding himself, or anyone else. He’s not coming back.
***************************************
It gets tougher when the season starts. The guys are totally immersed in hockey, day and night. Sid still sees them at the gym and watches some of the practises but he’s just an observer now. He knows he should probably make a move, get some distance from the Penguins and find some outside interests but he just can’t make himself do it. Hockey was his life.
He goes out with the team one night after a game and almost has a relapse. It’s a close thing. Just being in that environment, with everyone drinking beer and getting a buzz on makes Sid let down his guard. He decides one beer won’t hurt and it leads to another. Geno gives him a disapproving look when he sees him but Sid ignores him. When it’s time to go home Geno insists they share a cab and Sid at least has the presence of mind not to argue.
When he gets home the craving for more alcohol or SOMETHING is so strong he contemplates for a moment seeing if the grocery store will still deliver. He’s almost ready to make the call when he has a flashback to how he was the previous spring, collapsed on the bathroom floor retching his guts out and he puts his phone down. Just, no. The next morning he gets a recommendation from the team for a therapist and makes an appointment to go.
Sid runs into Mario one morning when he’s leaving the rink. He asks Sid what he’s up to and when Sid snorts and tells him “not much,” Mario suggests he coach a midget team for underprivileged kids the Penguins organization is sponsoring. Sid’s first instinct is to say no, he doesn’t know anything about coaching kids, but Mario presses him. He tells Sid that he knows a lot more than he thinks he does. Anyway, right now they don’t have a coach at all so anyone would be an improvement. Most of the kids have never played hockey before either so they won’t know the difference.
It turns out to be a blast. What the kids lack in experience they make up for enthusiasm and Sid is immediately captivated by them. They love Sid right back and he’s soon fully involved in teaching them the basics of hockey and a love for the game. The kids on his team are from one of Pittsburgh’s grittiest neighbourhoods and they haven’t had many good breaks. Learning to play hockey gives them a chance to just be kids. They have a blast. So does Sid. But then he’s just a kid at heart himself when it comes to hockey.
Mario also lines Sid up for some PR work for the Penguins. He makes some appearances around Pittsburgh and does charity work and it’s all okay. He enjoys meeting people and talking hockey with them. But it can be bittersweet. Everyone wants to talk to him about his former career when all Sid really wants to do is look forward. He doesn’t want to dwell on the past. He’d rather be coaching his kids.
Everything keeps him busy, all in all. Sid’s life hits a comfortable rhythm; physio and working out at the gym, weekly visits with his therapist, some charity work, hanging with the guys when they’re in town and of course coaching his team. When Christmas rolls around and his parents arrive in town Sid is mildly surprised at where the time has gone. He’s even more surprised when he realizes how much he’s actually been enjoying himself.
Mario invites Sid and his family over for dinner on Boxing Day. The two families have known each other for years and it’s good to all get together. Taylor and Austin catch up; they’ve been friends for years and they disappear after dinner to compare notes on their hockey careers. The dads wander off to see what sports are on TV while the mom’s clean up after dinner with Lauren and Steph, both home from university. Sid is about to go find the dads when he realizes Mario’s youngest daughter Alexa isn’t with her sisters in the kitchen.
“Where’s Lexie?” he asks Nathalie.
Nathalie looks up from where she’s loading the dishwasher and smiles. “Not sure, Sid. Maybe look in her room?”
“Yeah, okay,” he agrees and then heads down the wing towards the bedrooms. Sid’s always liked all the Lemieux kids, but he’s shared a special bond with Alexa and he hasn’t seen her in a long time. He’d always been drawn to Alexa and he wants to catch up.
Alexa, or Lexie, is the baby of the family and not at all like her attractive, genial older sisters. All awkward angles, thin and plain looking and more reserved than her bubbly siblings. When Sid first moved in with the Lemieuxs she’d followed him around like a puppy and as she got older they’d hung out together and played video games. She’d graduated from high school last spring and Mario had told him she was attending the city university now.
Sid wants to hear all about school but he also wanted to know how she was doing; she’d been pretty quiet all through dinner. Not that quiet was unusual for Alexa. She’s always been pretty reserved, not one to show her hand. But she’d definitely looked like she had things on her mind during dinner.
The door to Alexa’s room is open when Sid gets there and he knocks on the doorframe as he walks in. They’ve got a special code he’s always used, one she recognizes over those of the rest of her family. Alexa is sitting cross legged on her bed bent over her laptop. When she hears the knock she smiles softly and looks up.
“Hey, Sid,” she says.
“Hey, Lexie. How’s it going?”
“It’s going,” she tells him before she pops her laptop shut. “How are you doing?”
“Not bad, considering,” Sid assures her. “How’s school?” he asks as he sits down on the edge of the bed beside her.
“Good.”
“So, what courses are you taking?” Sid prompts once he sees that’s all she’s going to say. Getting information from Alexa can be pretty tough sledding.
She shrugs before wrapping her arms around her knees. “First year arts, that sort of stuff,” she tells him.
Sid watches as she gnaws at her thumbnail. “You were pretty quiet at dinner, Squirt” he finally says, using the nickname he’d had for her when she was a kid.
Alexa tucks a stray strand of hair behind her ear and shrugs again. “You know me, Sid. Just being my normal dorky self.”
Sid nods thoughtfully, waiting a minute to see if she’d elaborate. Nope.
“You know, if you ever need anyone to talk to,” he tells her. “Someone other than your mom and dad or your sisters?”
Sid watches as she worries her lower lip with her teeth. She’s definitely got something on her mind by the look of things. Finally she sighs as if she’s come to a decision.
“I think I might be gay,” she tells him. “Well, I’m pretty sure I am.”
She turns to Sid with a guarded look and waits for his reaction. Sid’s not quite sure what to say but one thing he knows is that he’s not going to insult her by asking her if she’s sure. If there’s one thing about Alexa it’s that she knows her mind.
Instead he asks, “Have you known for a while?”
She rests her chin on her knees and watches him a minute. “Yeah. Years really. Always knew there was something different about me. Just took this year at school to figure some things out.”
“Have you told your parents?” Sid asks her.
“No,” Alexa tells him immediately. “Scared to.”
“Don’t be. They won’t care.”
Alexa looks at him as if he doesn’t have a clue what he’s talking about. “Yeah. Right. They’re Catholic, Sid. Homosexuality isn’t big on their list.”
It’s Sid’s turn to shrug. “I mean it. You can tell them Squirt. It won’t matter.”
“You don’t know that, Sid,” she challenges him.
Sid lets out a deep breath. He knows he has to say something. It’s about time he stepped up to the plate and made an attempt to be honest about himself, if only to help out a kid who’s a lot more perceptive than he ever was.
“Cause I know, Lexie. Because I’m gay, and your dad knows, and he doesn’t care.”
He looks back at her and for a moment she looks like she’s going to swallow her tongue she’s so surprised. Then she looks at him suspiciously as if she can’t bring herself to believe him.
“Seriously?”
Sid smiles at her sheepishly. “Yeah. I am. Or I should say I realized I’m bi.” Sid looks down at where his hands are twisting nervously in his lap. “Although, I’d have to say now that I’m probably really just gay.”
There’s dead silence in the room and Sid tries to think of something meaningful to say that would help Alexa but he’s got nothing. It’s not as if he’s the poster child of gay enlightenment or anything. But one thing he does know for a certainty is that Mario and Nathalie love their kids and if Mario can find it in his Catholic heart to accept Sid he will do no less for his own children.
“So yeah, you don’t have to worry about telling your parents, Lexie. I’m pretty sure.” he assures her.
He gives her what he hopes is a reassuring smile and he’s rewarded when she smiles back and then takes his hand in hers.
“Thanks for telling me, Sid.”
“It’s okay.” He smiles at her a bit wider. “Does it help?”
Alexa just laughs softly. “Kind of,” she tells him. Sid squeezes her much smaller hand gently.
“Good.”
They sit in companionable silence while the sounds of the household go on around them. Sid can hear Mario yelling something in French out in the family room. They must have found a game on.
“Sid?”
“Yeah, Squirt?”
“Is it hard?” Alexa asks him. “I mean, being out. You know, with everyone, with the people you’ve known forever?”
Sid shakes his head. “I’m not exactly there yet, Alexa, I’m afraid. But yeah, I don’t think it’ll be easy. But if you ever need someone to talk to you can call me. Okay? I mean it. Any time.”
“Okay,” she says nodding her head.
“So, do you have a girlfriend?”
“No. I’ve just been going to some meetings and shit at the university.”
“Good. That’ll help,” Sid nods. He’s glad she’s got some kind of a support system at school. No matter what it is it’s got to be better than the NHL.
Alex looks at him with a smile, “Hey, maybe we can go check out some gay bars one day?”
Okay, that makes Sid laugh. “Hah, nice try. You’re nowhere close to twenty-one yet. Your dad would kill me.”
Alexa laughs and then slaps him on the leg. “Stick in the mud.”
“Yup,” Sid agrees. “That’s me. Come on. Let’s go see what everyone else is up to? Okay?”
****************************************
The rest of the winter seems to drag on forever, snow storm after snow storm, some of the coldest temperatures on record but then all of a sudden, come mid March it’s finally over. The weather has finally changed for the better and the days are getting longer.
Sid starts running again at the urging of his physiotherapist Brent. They try to get out two or three times a week. They keep it slow to begin with but when Sid has no headaches afterwards they gradually pick up the pace and distance. Sid is slightly self-conscious about his still awkward gait but it gives him a real sense of accomplishment to get back to doing something he had always taken for granted.
Brent’s gone from being Sid’s physiotherapist to also being a good friend. It’s probably Geno’s fault but at some point in the fall Brent casually asks Sid out for a drink. Sid is taken aback for a moment; he’s not used to the idea that it’s okay for people to know he’s gay. He begs off, saying he’s got plans and Brent leaves the offer open for another time. Sid thinks about the idea a couple days, tries to get his head around actually dating a guy and decides that though Brent is a good guy, Sid’s not ready. It doesn’t feel right.
He lets Brent down gently, telling him as much and he’s happy when Brent is cool about it and tells him they should just hang out instead. Sid likes that. He goes over to Brent’s sometimes and they watch movies or they go out for something to eat. When the weather improves they start jogging. Brent says he’s doing it to get in shape for basketball but Sid knows he’s doing it to help him.
It’s a warm spring day and Sid’s spent it going for a run with Brent and then shooting some hoops at a school near his apartment. They go to a sports bar for some dinner and while they are waiting for the food to arrive Sid catches a glimpse of a familiar figure on the TV behind the bar. He stops what he’s saying in mid sentence and stares at the screen. It feels as if the bottom has dropped out of his world.
Brent immediately turns to see what has captured Sid’s attention and then looks back at him with a concerned look.
“You okay, Sid?” he asks.
Sid nods absently while he continues to watch the screen. He can’t hear what’s being said over the dull hubbub around them but he can clearly see Alex in uniform being helped from the ice, a teammate on each side of him. When the camera pans in Sid can see that Alex’s jaw is clenched in pain. Sid is momentarily stunned that he didn’t even realize he was back in North America and playing again. How could he have not heard?
They both watch as Alex is half carried down towards the dressing room, his injured leg dangling uselessly. The bartender is watching the screen too and Brent calls to him, “What are they saying, Ted?”
“Looks like Ovechkin’s blown out his knee again,” the bartender tells them. “To bad, he’s only been back a couple games. The Caps could use him.”
Brent turns back to Sid again and asks him, “Do you know him, Sid?”
Sid finds he has to clear his throat before he can speak and he delays further by taking a sip of his coffee before he answers. “Yeah. Yeah, I do,” Sid tells him. “Or I did, anyway. I didn’t know he was playing again.”
Sid’s voice is a little hoarse and he takes another mouthful of coffee. His mouth is suddenly very dry. Brent is watching Sid carefully and looking like he’s going to ask more questions but the waitress comes right then with their burgers. Sid smiles gamely when she sets it in front of him, grateful of the interruption.
Sid is quiet during dinner, driven introspective by seeing Alex after so long. The events of the past year had been enough to knock the other man from Sid’s thoughts but seeing him on the sports program bring everything flooding back. Sid knows the team is on a road trip to the west coast so he can’t really call Geno and pump him for information. He’ll have to wait a few days.
That night Sid goes home and thinks about calling Alex. It takes him an hour to get up his nerve but he knows he needs to do it. When he dials the number he’s still got programmed into his phone he gets a recorded message that the number is no longer in service. He sighs and then puts down his phone. It’s probably for the best. So much time has passed. No doubt Alex has moved on.
The next week Sid calls Geno to see what he knows. It’s not much. Geno hadn’t known Alex was back either. Apparently the return had been without fanfare. Geno’s been preoccupied with Natasha and the new baby. He hasn’t been keeping up on the Russian gossip but he promises to find out what he can and report back to Sid.
It takes a few days but Geno is as good as his word. Unfortunately the news is not good. Alex has indeed blown his knee again, had surgery and has already flown back to Russia to recover. Sid doesn’t know if he’s disappointed or relieved. Geno does give Sid Alex’s new phone number though and tells him if he’s interested at all anymore he should call. Sid puts the number in his phone but doesn’t do anything about it.
His kids are having a good season and the playoffs are coming up. He’s got to concentrate on his coaching at this critical time. Brent’s also talked him into doing some upgrading at the community college so he’s got homework most nights. Sid thinks he might like to become some kind of youth counsellor or something one day if he can get into a school. He’s not sure he’ll stick with it but hell, it’s a goal. It gives him something to work towards. Some nights though, when he’s struggling with an English essay, he wants to take Brent and slap him.
Sid follows the team peripherally during their run up to the playoffs and he’s as disappointed as anyone when they fall short. He feels for the guys, particularly the young ones like Krylov and Selander. He and Geno have won their Cup but the younger guys are still hungry. Sid wishes there were something he could do to help make their dream come true.
The Bruins end up winning the Cup. It’s not a surprise; they’ve dominated the league all year but what is slightly surprising is that their all star defenseman York, manages to out himself during the post game celebration when his long term partner jumps over the boards and climbs up him while the cameras are rolling. The onscreen kiss they share is televised coasted to coast. Sid thinks it’s really hot. It’s also the only time he can ever remember seeing Don Cherry speechless.
What’s even more surprising is the fact that York is completely honest with all questions about who the guy was with his legs wrapped around him on the ice. He talks frankly about their relationship, thanking his partner for his tireless support and saying how much he loves him. And a little to Sid’s surprise, no one seems to care. At least, it’s not the controversial news that Sid had always thought such a turn of events would be. It seems that while Sid has been preoccupied with his own health problems the world has slowly changed.
A few weeks later he meets the guys for dinner to catch up. Jordie urges Sid to give Alex a call; tells him he needs to try again. Sid goes home and thinks about it a while. Finally he picks up the phone but it’s not Alex he calls. He phones his mom and dad and tells them he’s coming home for a visit. There are some things he needs to tell them. It’s time.
Chapter: Fifteen
Author: firiel77
Word Count: 9986
Warnings: WIP, angst fest, schmoop, misunderstandings, regrets, men being silly and uncommunicative.
Rating:NC17 for the most part.
Fandom Hockey RPS
Pairings: Sidney Crosby/Alexander Ovechkin
Summary: Set several years in the future. Sid’s taking stock of his life and finds he’s thinking about Ovie more and more. Only thing is, he doesn’t know what he wants. Ovie knows what he wants. He just doesn’t know how to get it. And so it goes.
Beta: Thank you so much sarcasmcat for stepping in and offering to beta this thing. I’m most grateful and I’m sure readers will be too.
Disclaimer: It’s fan fiction people.
Feedback: Sure. Let me know what’s working for you.
Authors Notes: Warning. I’ve read a grand total of one fic in this fandom but I LOVED IT and I wanted to give writing a shot. Bear with me if I get things wrong. I’m not really familiar with the canon. I’m just hoping that if I set it far enough in the future that no one will notice I don’t know what the hell I’m talking about. Yes, I’m totally making shit up. Hope it flies.
Previous Chapters
The first thing Sid is aware of is a dull pounding as if someone is knocking on a door far away. As his muddled thought processes clear slightly he realizes it is someone knocking on a door, his door; loudly and insistently. Sid briefly considers trying to get up but the effort required to even open his eyes is too much. Lifting his head, never mind standing, would be out of the question. He drifts off again.
The next time Sid wakes up it’s because someone has grabbed hold of his shoulders and is shaking the ever-loving shit out of him. His head flops back and forth and he struggles up from unconsciousness mostly so that he can slap whoever is doing this to him because it’s making his head pound. He lets out a groan and blindly tries to bat away whoever is doing this to him. All he wants is to go back to sleep.
He can hear muffled voices, or maybe they aren’t that muffled after all, because there seems to be a certain amount of urgency in what’s being said. It’s just not making much of an impression on Sid. He’s just so damn tired. He wishes they’d keep it down a bit and would just stop with the shaking.
The voice above him gets louder and more difficult to ignore. He can hear his name being repeated over and over again. Finally Sid is shocked into consciousness by a stinging slap to the face. It takes all the effort he can muster to open his heavy eyelids enough to focus on his attacker. It’s Geno staring down at him tensely.
“Fuck, Sidney,” he says.
Sid wants to ask Geno why he’s there in his apartment instead of on the road playing hockey and maybe winning a Stanley Cup or something but his mouth doesn’t seem to be working right now. Instead he tries to shut his eyes again.
Geno isn’t having any of it. Sid hears a string of muttered words in Russian and then he’s shaken awake again, hard enough to make his teeth rattle together.
“Don’t you fucking dare sleep, Sidney,” Geno mutters angrily.
Sid looks up at him blearily and his eyelids flicker again. When Geno lifts his hand to slap him again though, Sid shakes himself awake and tries to pull away.
He licks his dry lips and manages to get out, “Stop.”
“Stay awake,” Geno warns him.
Sid nods at him and struggles to rouse himself enough to take in his surroundings. Geno is there but so are Selander and Krylov. The two of them are hovering behind Geno, each one peering over a shoulder with tense and worried expressions. Sid glances back at Geno and notices his normally heavily lidded eyes are wide open. Despite his steady tone he looks slightly panicked. There’s no doubt Sid’s scared the hell out of them.
Once he’s ascertained that Sid is still alive Geno relaxes enough to give him a closer once over. His lip curls in distaste when he notices that Sid’s t-shirt is streaked with stains; he’s obviously vomited all over himself at some point. When Geno lets go of his shirt and lets him fall back can’t blame him. The sour smell is threatening to make him throw up again himself and Sid has to swallow hard to keep the bile down. Geno immediately notices and distances himself a little, at least getting out of the line of fire.
He looks back at Krylov and Selander and tells them, “Shower.”
Sid is slung over the two younger men’s shoulders and dragged to his bathroom where he’s propped on the toilet seat just long enough to get his soiled clothing off and then deposited in the tub. No one wants to get too close or for too long. Geno turns on the shower without adjusting the temperature so the first blast that hits him is ice cold. Sid lets out a gasp but it does shock him awake.
Geno sits down on the edge of the tub and stares at Sid balefully. He doesn’t look as shit scared anymore. Now he just looks pissed off and really tired. His hair is sticking out in all directions as if he’d been sleeping and Sid wonders what time it is. He’s slowly becoming more aware and vaguely wonders what brought the guys over to his place.
He wipes the water out of his eyes and asks, “What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be playing somewhere?”
Geno snorts and then shakes his head. “You not follow your team, Sid. All over. We lost. Out.”
“Sorry,” Sid says. He looks out the bathroom window. It looks dark out. He squints up at Geno. “What time is it?”
Geno looks even angrier if that’s possible and leans down over Sid before telling him, “Is middle of night, Sidney. Mom phone me. Afraid you do something stupid. Ask me to come right over and check on you.”
He shakes his head in disgust. “You phone mom and leave crazy message? Was stupid, Sid. Scare her to death. Was afraid you dead.”
Sid just sits there and lets the water pelt down on him. He can barely recall phoning his mom and he has no idea how long ago it was. It’s all a blur. He thinks about his parents and how he’s frightened them and shuts his eyes in shame.
Krylov enters the room and Geno starts telling him something in Russian. Krylov turns to the medicine cabinet and starts removing the medications Sid has in there. He takes them all away and Sid follows him desolately with his eyes. He could use something about now. His head is starting to pound.
“Where’s he going with that?” Sid asks Geno. He gets no answer.
Instead Geno tosses him a face cloth and tells him, “Wash off. Then we talk.”
Sid grabs the soap and cleans up as best he can. When he’s done Geno turns off the water, helps him up, and gives him a towel. Selander appears with a pair of sweats and a t-shirt and he and Geno steady Sid while he pulls them on. He’s still feeling dizzy and having a hard time coordinating his movements. When he’s done Geno and Selander hoist his arms over their shoulders again and march him back into the living room and deposit him on the couch.
Sid sees that the boys have been busy. All his painkillers have been gathered and are sitting on the coffee table in front of him. They’ve also collected all the full and empty vodka bottles from around the condo. Together with all the pill bottles it looks pretty bad. Sid looks up at Geno and gets a blank stare. He’s not looking forward to what the Russian has to say. Sid tries feebly to explain.
“It’s for my headaches. The doctors prescribed them,” Sid tells the guys. He has to admit it sounds pretty lame in the face of what’s in front of him. Especially all the vodka bottles; did he really drink that much vodka?
Sid doesn’t have to wait long. Geno lets out a long breath and looks right at Sid. “Give me one reason I don’t phone Mario. Get you put in rehab?” he demands.
Sid swallows. He thinks about it, the scandal, having to tell his family, and he quickly shakes his head. “No, don’t,” he tells Geno. “I’ll stop.”
Geno doesn’t look like he believes him. Sid’s not sure he believes himself except that it’s just now starting to dawn on him how stupid he’s been.
“No, I will,” he insists. “I have to.....” he drops off. Sid’s not sure who exactly he’s trying to convince.
Geno makes a disgusted noise and heads to the kitchen. He comes back with the garbage can and to Sid’s horror he takes all the pills and scoops them into the pail. “Time to start,” he tells Sid.
“Not all of them,” Sid gasps. He looks at Geno pleadingly when the few remaining bottles of vodka are taken and left by the front door.
Krylov says something in Russian and Geno snorts. Sid doesn’t think anything is too funny. He’s starting to feel panic stricken. To give the other man credit, Geno doesn’t really look like he’s finding the situation funny either. Sid can’t remember ever seeing him look more serious. Sid knows he means business.
“Right now?” he asks shakily.
Selander steps up behind Geno and tells Sid, “We’ll help. You don’t have to do this by yourself, Sid.”
Krylov is there too and he nods in agreement. Geno nods back and turns to Sid and smiles for the first time. It doesn’t last long. He says something to Krylov in Russian and Sid watches forlornly while he and Selander take away all the drugs and alcohol. He gives Geno a bleak look but gets no sympathy.
“No more, Sid.”
Sid nods glumly and then yawns. He’s still feeling groggy and hung over. He’s still got a lot of drugs and alcohol in his system and his mouth is dry. As if reading his mind Selander returns with a bottle of water and hands it to Sid. He opens it and takes a couple cautious sips, not sure how it’s going to sit. He drinks a couple more mouthfuls before putting the top back on.
“I think I’m going to go lie down for a while,” he tells the others. “I don’t feel too good.”
“Okay, Sid,” Geno tells him. “I go home. Tell Natasha you still alive.”
Sid winces at his tone and the fact he’s obviously worried her as well. “Sorry, man,” he tells Geno. As an afterthought he adds, “Can you call my mom?”
Geno frowns at him and then tells Sid, “Already did.”
He says no more but on his way by he puts his hand on Sid’s shoulder and gives it a squeeze before telling him, “Guys stay with you. I come back and check later.”
**************************************
When Sid wakes up again he’s got no idea what time it is. The condo is quiet and dark. He needs to take a piss so he pulls himself shakily out of bed and makes his way to his bathroom. When he’s done he splashes cold water on his face and takes a moment to look at himself in the mirror. He looks pale and tense and the light makes his head hurt so he turns it off and crawls back into bed. He can’t get warm so he pulls up his knees and curls into a ball while he waits to fall back to sleep.
The next time Sid opens his eyes Geno is standing over him with his arms crossed. He’s still got his coat on as though he’s just come in from outdoors. Sid rubs a hand over his face and then pushes himself up so that he’s sitting at the edge of the bed. His head swims. Without thinking he starts rocking back and forth, his arms tightly clasped across his chest.
“How you feel, Sid,” Geno asks.
Sid squints while he takes inventory of his body. It doesn’t take long to figure out the answer. “Like shit,” he tells the other man.
He feels like he needs to move. It’s like he can’t sit still, like his legs are screaming at him to get up and move, and he would except his body hurts so badly. His head, his back, every muscle and joint in his body aches. This is worse than any hangover he’s ever had, worse than the ache of a really tough workout, worse than any injury he’s experienced. His stomach cramps up on him and he pulls his knees up to his chest in an attempt to alleviate it.
A wave of nausea hits him and he fights to control it, concentrating on breathing his way through it - deep breath in, breathe slowly out. It’s not working.
“I feel sick,” Sid gasps out and then staggers to his feet. Geno puts a steadying hand on his shoulder and helps him to the bathroom where Sid drops to his knees in front of the toilet. Only a little bitter tasting fluid comes up but Sid can’t seem to stop his body from heaving over and over again.
When he finally stops retching Geno wets a cloth and hands it to Sid so he can wipe off his face. He collapses onto his hip, leaning against the wall, propped up between the toilet and the cabinetry, his head lolling to the side. He shuts his eyes as he’s hit by another wave of nausea.
“Fuck,” he manages to get out.
Geno makes a sympathetic noise and then wets a towel and lays it across his forehead. He leans forward and flushes the toilet and the noise next to his head makes Sid wince in pain. He gulps down air and struggles not to hurl again. When he opens his eyes he sees that Geno has wisely pulled back out of range.
“Sorry,” he gets out between breaths.
“Is okay, Sid,” Geno tells him. “I seen you get sick before.”
Sid shakes his head. It’s true. Geno’s been around for more than one of his ill fated drinking episodes but nothing like this. Sid’s never been through anything like this before. He’s not sure why Geno is taking this on but Sid definitely going to owe him one.
Sid’s getting cold. He’s starting to shake so he struggles back to his feet. Now that the dry heaves have stopped he needs to get back to bed. The room spins and he has to sit back down on the toilet. Geno is there at his side immediately, steadying him and when Sid finally nods that he’s ready to try to get up again he wraps an arm around Sid’s waist and helps him to his feet. They make their unsteady way back to the bed and Sid crawls in and pulls his legs up in the fetal position.
Geno pulls the covers up over him, brings him some towels, and as an afterthought positions a garbage can at the side of the bed. Sid follows his movements with one eye until he has to clench them shut as another bout of shakes overcome him. When it finally passes Sid lets out a long breath, his legs still moving restlessly under the covers.
“Thanks for doing this,” he manages to get out.
Geno shakes his head and tells him, “I don’t do anything yet.”
“Yeah. You have,” Sid assures him through clenched teeth.
********************************
And that’s how Sid ends up going cold turkey. He spends the next two weeks confined to his condo under the watchful but compassionate eye of Geno, Selander and Krylov. Sid’s seen movies where characters go through withdrawal but he’d thought it only happened with shit like heroin. He’d had no idea what it could be like to come off prescription pain killers. After the first day when it gets really bad he’s afraid he’s going to die. Later, when the nausea and aching pain get even worse, he’s afraid he won’t.
Sid hurts from retching over and over again and his body is racked with shaking chills. The sheets are drenched in cold sweat and he tosses fitfully, unable to sleep for more than fifteen minutes at a time. The first night Selander does some research on the internet and finds out the withdrawal could last fifteen days. Sid’s not sure he can last that long. He’s not the only one.
On the third day Geno is back and tries to convince Sid to get medical help. Geno has gone from being frightened of Sid’s condition, to being angry, to being determined, right back to being scared again. Sid is lying on the floor of the bathroom where he’s shut himself, refusing to leave. It’s the only practical solution. Sid can’t be far from the toilet. He’s embarrassed himself by soiling the bed more than once.
Geno changes the sheets and then opens the bathroom door, finding Sid curled on the floor, his legs twitching, his knees hugged to his chest. Geno practically carries him back to bed, making sure his underwear are as clean as the fresh sheets and tries to talk to Sid about checking into rehab until the medication is out of his system. Sid refuses.
“Didn’t know it would be this bad, Sid,” Geno tells him. “You sure you don’t want doctor? Can give you something to help, maybe?”
“No.” Sid’s voice is flat and tired, but adamant. “No more doctors. No hospital.”
“Sid, please.....”
“No, I mean it,” Sid grinds out through clenched teeth.
Geno looks like he’s going to argue but Sid cuts him off. “Just drop it. Please. I got myself into this mess. Let me fix it. I can do this. Please,” he repeats.
Geno doesn’t mention medical help again but that doesn’t stop him from worrying over Sid as he continues to fight the withdrawal symptoms. The others worry too. The three of them take turns watching Sid. Each time he opens his eyes one of them is in the room with him, usually in the recliner beside the bed. They stay close at hand in case he needs help to the bathroom.
They keep the lights off because Sid finds the brightness makes the pain in his head ten times worse. They speak in hushed voices, keeping the condo soothingly quiet. Sharp noises make Sid jump and his shaking worse so that he has to hang onto himself to keep from flying apart. Unaccountably his nose won’t stop running. It’s not until later that he’s told it’s yet another symptom of the withdrawal.
The next time Sid’s aware the temperature in the room seems to have changed. From shaking with cold he’s now become uncomfortably hot. He rolls over in bed and kicks the covers off. His tee-shirt is clinging in damp patches to his skin, and his forehead is covered with sweat. Selander gets up from the chair, wets a washcloth with cool water in the bathroom and crouches down next to Sid. He wipes Sid’s sweaty face with gentle strokes.
“It’s fucking hot in here,” Sid tells him.
“Want me to open a window?” Selander asks him.
“In my brain, maybe. Can you do that?” Sid asks him more sharply than he intends. Then he opens his eyes and tells him, “I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve that.”
Selander continues to press the cold cloth to Sid’s forehead. “Don’t worry about it.”
Sid does worry about it though. It’s not like him to be intentionally rude. It’s just that he feels so fucking bad it’s making him irritable. He’s silent for a minute. Selander picks up a glass from the bedside and hands it wordlessly to Sid. Sid takes the straw and has a cautious sip of the Gatorade. It’s cool on his parched lips and he takes another although he’s careful not to drink too much. He knows from experience that his stomach will rebel. After a couple more mouthfuls he shakes his head and pushes the glass away. He watches through dull eyes as Selander puts the glass down again.
"How long has it been?" he finally asks.
"Six days."
"Shit.”
He’s been hoping, no praying, that the withdrawal pain will abate. He can’t believe he’s endured six days. Even worse, he may have to endure much more. But no matter how bad he feels Sid won’t give in. He refuses to ask for his medications. He can’t humiliate himself by begging for them, not when the guys have done so much for him already. Sid knows that if he gives in he’ll be letting them down. He shuts his eyes again and tries to relax, to will himself back to sleep so that time can pass more quickly.
It’s easy to lose track of time. The days are a gray dimness of drawn shades and aching red pain. Nights are darker, marked by more quiet, the same red pain and a gnawing emptiness that keeps him awake when all he seeks is the oblivion of sleep. One night he’s overcome by despair and can’t help but sob into the pillow, hoping he doesn’t wake Krylov who’s sleeping in the chair beside him.
He’s got no idea how many days and dark nights he’s been in his room. Too weak and tired to do anything but lie here, in too much pain to do little else than concentrate on the hope that it would be over soon. Sid knows he will come out whole at the end of this. It’s just hard to believe when he feels so terrible.
There’s no clock in the room so he’s not sure, but Sid thinks that when he sleeps now, he’s sleeping for longer periods of time. His life has been ruled by schedules for so long, it feels disconcerting not to know what time it is. Sid takes it as a positive sign that this is bothering him. He’s not sure, but he thinks the aching pain is ebbing slightly and he’s not thrown up the sips of Gatorade he’s been given in at least a day. He feels inordinately proud of this small accomplishment.
Sid shifts his head on the pillow, resisting the urge to twitch his foot. He’s fairly certain it’s night, and sometime late at night. Selander must have opened the window because Sid can feel a cooling breeze across his skin. The dim light coming from the bathroom is enough to see that there’s no one in the room with him. Whoever’s shift it is, they must be elsewhere at the moment although Sid can hear no sound from the rest of the condo. The world is night time quiet and Sid drops off to sleep again.
The next morning when Sid wakes he sees Geno is asleep in the recliner. Sid pushes himself upright, his legs over the side of the bed and waits for his head to stop spinning before he gets shakily to his feet. He needs to piss in the worst way. Geno snores softly as Sid passes but shows no signs of waking.
When Sid gets back from the bathroom Geno is awake. He stretches and rubs his face with a hand and pushes himself out of the lounger while Sid watches. Geno scowls at him.
“Should have waited for help, Sid,” he tells him.
“I can piss on my own,” Sid challenges.
All he gets is a derisive snort in reply. Sid knows very well that this is the first time he’s managed on his own in a while. Normally he’s been held upright by one or two others while he attempts to hit the toilet. Several times that has even been too much for him and Sid can recall one bad night when he’d managed to piss on both Geno and Krylov.
Sid looks down and pulls at the waistband of his boxers. They are swimming on him. He’s lost a lot of weight but for the first time since they started he feels like he could eat something. As if to confirm the thought, his stomach rubbles loudly. Geno hears it.
“Hungry?” he asks Sid.
“Maybe,” he says. “Yeah, I think I might be.”
He sees some of his sweat pants on the dresser and picks them up. Geno is at his side in a second and steadies him while he pulls them on. He pulls open a drawer and grabs one of his t-shirts. The living room is empty when they get there although the controllers for Sid’s video game system are still on the coffee table. The door to the spare bedroom is closed so Sid assumes one of the other guys is sleeping in.
He climbs up on one of the chairs at the island and watches as Geno gets out a pot and measures out water and puts it on the stove to boil while he gets out the oatmeal. In a few minutes he sets down a small bowl of plain oatmeal in front of Sid and then pours him a glass of milk. He watches quietly while Sid takes a cautious mouthful. It’s probably been at least a week since he’s had solid food.
The oatmeal is bland, almost tasteless, but it’s warm and it fills the empty spot inside Sid so he keeps eating, taking small mouthfuls and washing it down with cold milk. Best of all his stomach is showing no signs of throwing it all back up. Sid can’t remember a time where eating something felt so good. When he’s finished he pushes the bowl away and looks up at Geno.
“Thanks.”
“Was good?” Geno asks him.
When Sid nods Geno smiles at him. “That’s enough for now, okay? Krylov read on internet that start with small meals. Simple things. Until body is ready for more.”
“Yeah, that sounds good,” Sid agrees. He feels like he could eat more but he knows Geno is right. It’s been a while and he doesn’t want to push it. He wants to do this right, especially now that he’s making progress. The past week has been the hardest of his entire life, even worse than waking up after his injury or the first couple months of physio. He’s determined to do things right, starting now.
Now that he’s eaten Sid becomes aware of how he smells. He’s been in bed, or on the bathroom floor, for days, often drenched in a sweat. He’s getting pretty ripe smelling although his clothes are clean. He vaguely remembers his boxers and t-shirts being changed and the bed stripped, soiled linens exchanged for clean. He’s not been in the shower the whole time and it’s apparent by the odor emanating from him.
“I smell like ass,” Sid tells Geno.
Geno shrugs dismissively but then tells him, “Yeah, maybe time for shower? I help you if you want?”
“I can do it on my own,” Sid tells him. Geno looks sceptical when Sid wobbles a little as he slides off the chair.
“No. I come with you, Sid. Get shower ready at least.”
They make their halting way to Sid's bathroom. He feels as weak as a kitten. Geno sits him on the toilet seat and pulls his t-shirt over his head before turning and adjusting the water in the shower. When he’s got it right he pulls Sid up and helps him out of his sweat pants and boxers and then guides Sid onto the bench.
He hands Sid the shower gel and a facecloth and tells him, “I get clean clothes. You wash. Do your hair. Is gross, Sidney.”
Sid can’t help but laugh weakly. “You should have been a nurse.”
“Yeah. Maybe if hockey not work out.”
Geno picks up his discarded clothes and then tells him, “I leave towel out. Call if need anything, Sid.”
Sid leans back against the wall and shuts his eyes as the warm water runs down over his face. He feels like he’s been through the toughest series he’s ever played but for the first time he feels like he’s going to make it.
*************************************
It’s not easy. Getting off the Vicodin is the hardest thing he’s ever had to do. Selander and Krylov move in with Sid and stay with him day and night over the next couple weeks, postponing their flight home to Europe for the summer. Geno is over every day checking on Sid, doing whatever he can to help.
The worst of the withdrawal symptoms have gone but Sid is still left with headaches that can only be treated with Tylenol. He watches movies to try to distract himself from them, or tries to nap until they pass. Without the Vicodin or alcohol he finds he’s again prone to anxiety attacks that he is powerless to prevent. One of them is so bad Geno ends up pulling Sid down onto the couch from his ceaseless pacing and holding him, talking to him until he can calm himself. It’s scary as hell.
Selander and Krylov do the cooking and take turns going out to shop. They watch movies or play games with Sid to while away the time, there for support and encouragement. Sid is getting stronger, feeling better, but always in the background is the gnawing craving for the pain pills. Even if his body doesn’t need them so much anymore his mind still wants them. Sid is determined to keep up the fight.
It’s a testament to how preoccupied he is with his struggle that it takes him so long to realize that Krylov and Selander are sharing a bed. When Sid finally mentions it the second week, how it’s probably not that comfortable for them both in the one room they both laugh at him and shake their heads.
“What?” Sid asks.
“Is okay, Sid,” Krylov tells him. “We used to sharing.”
Selander lets out another hoot of amusement. And that’s when it finally dawns on Sid that the two of them are lovers. It’s taken him a hell of a long time to figure that one out although now it seems obvious. And then Sid realizes that the team has known all along and that no one probably cares. It makes his life even more futile and depressing than it already was.
Selander’s just done a photo shoot for Vogue for fuck sake. Krylov has done a series of high profile endorsements. They are both poster boys for Sports Illustrated’s sexiest athletes and have legions of fans, both men and women. So much for morality clauses Sid thinks. Fuck.
Selander notices when Sid falls quiet and studies him a moment before asking, “You okay, Sid?”
Sid shakes his head ruefully. “Just thinking I should have clued in by now.”
Krylov gives his typical shrug. “Is not like we make big deal of it.”
The Russian has the same calm, fatalistic outlook on things that Alex always had and the memory jars at Sid a little. Not for the first time he wishes he’d done things differently when he had the chance but it doesn’t change anything. There’s no point in dwelling on the past.
“I admire you guys,” Sid tells them both, shaking his head. “You’re better than me.”
Selander gives Sid a pat on the shoulder. “We all do things in our own time,” he tells him.
All Sid can do is nod glumly.
*******************************
After six weeks Sid’s pretty sure he’s going to make it. It’s time to go home and see his parents. It’s also time to let Selander and Krylov go home and get on with their lives in Europe. He owes them a lot, he knows that, probably his life. Geno’s over for dinner one night and Sid tells them how much he appreciates what they’ve done and tells them he’s ready to go home for the summer. Geno nods solemnly and the squeezes his shoulder before he starts clearing the table.
While the guys clean up Sid goes to his room and phones home. It’s a call he hasn’t been looking forward to. He hasn’t talked to his parents, either of them, since everything started. He’d been too sick and then too ashamed of himself to call. Sid knows Geno has been talking to his parents often, letting them know that Sid’s alright, but he’s only told them that Sid would call when he was ready. It’s time.
Sid’s mom picks up the phone after the first ring and catches him by surprise. He’s still trying to think what’s he’s going to say to them when he hears the familiar voice and immediately chokes up. He knows he’s scared the shit out of them.
“Hey, mom,” he finally gets out.
“Sidney? Oh god. We’ve been so worried about you. Are you okay?” she asks immediately.
“Yeah. I’m good, mom. I mean, I’m a lot better.” Before he can lose his nerve he keeps going. “I’m really sorry I worried you. I should have called sooner but I was having hard time. I’m really, really sorry.”
“Oh baby, it’s alright. Geno’s been calling us. As long as you’re alright now.” His mom hesitates a moment before asking, “What’s been going on, honey?”
“Can we talk about it when I come home, mom?” he asks.
“Of course, Sidney. When will that be?”
“This weekend. I’ll let you know what flight. Okay?”
“Do you want your dad and I to pick you up?” she asks immediately.
Sid feels a warm wave of affection for his mom and dad. He just really needs to be home. He’s slightly surprised when he has to wipe a couple stray tears off his cheeks. “Yeah, that’d be good.”
“Okay, honey. Just phone and let me know the flight. We’re all looking forward to seeing you. Everyone’s been asking when you’d be home.”
Sid smiles at that although he’s not sure he wants to see everyone just yet.
“Mom?” he asks. “Is it okay if I stay in my room?”
“You don’t want to stay out at your place?”
“I don’t think I should,” Sid tells her. “At least, not for a while. I’ve still got some things I need to work out. And I’d just rather be at home. If that’s okay,” he adds softly.
“Of course it is, honey. It’ll always be your room. You’re welcome any time.”
And so Sid flies home like he does every summer only this year he moves back into his old room, into the double bed he slept in his whole childhood, surrounded by all his childhood hockey memorabilia. It’s partly for practical reasons because he still can’t drive but it’s really just great to be home.
He spends the first couple weeks helping his dad rebuild the deck on the beach cottage. It’s good to get outside and do something physical, concentrate on something else besides how much he’d like a drink or a couple vics. Sid’s still pretty weak and has to take it slow but he can help with the table saw and actually screwing the deck boards down is good for his hand eye coordination.
He comes clean to his parents about his problems with alcohol and prescription pain killers. He assures them how determined he is to never let it happen again. His parents suggest he get some counselling and Sid reluctantly agrees. He feels like it’s the least he can do after what he’s put them through.
He starts seeing a guy who does substance abuse counselling and finds it actually helps. At least he gives Sid some tools for chronic pain management and some new techniques to try when he gets his anxiety attacks. It’s all easier said than done but Sid’s game to try anything that might help. So long as he never ends up on the bathroom floor, curled around the toilet and puking his guts out again.
Sid’s parents half-heartedly suggest he go out with his buddies but he tells them no. This isn’t the time for it. He’s not ready. There’s no way he wants to put himself in a position where he’ll give in to temptation. The bar scene would be far, far too much temptation. No, he’s all about staying home and keeping a low profile. He watches a lot of sports with his dad.
At the end of the summer he’s feeling stronger and a hell of a lot healthier. The days spent outdoors working around the house or fishing have left him tanned and his hair, longer than he’s used to keeping it, is bleached light from the sun. He hasn’t been to a gym or any physiotherapy but he’s been walking with his mom and his gait has improved considerably. He’s had only a few headaches, none of them severe, and best of all he’s been seizure free. Like his councillor tells him, “one step at a time”.
His parents want him to stay on. They don’t see what the point is in returning to Pittsburgh when he can’t play anymore. Sid’s not entirely sure either but he wants to go anyway. There’s just too much baggage in Halifax for him. Everyone knows who he is and he’ll always be that poor Crosby kid who had such a great career before he got hurt so bad. Everywhere he goes there’s someone who has a sympathetic look or a kind word for him. Sid knows they all mean well but it still gets him down.
He needs the anonymity of a city the size of Pittsburgh where even though he was a professional athlete, a hell of a lot of people still don’t recognize him when he’s out. Hockey is just one of the games in town. Sid knows he needs to build himself a life outside of hockey and at least in Pittsburgh he’s got the team and his friends. It’s become a second home to him.
He asks Jordie to pick him up at the airport. He’s hoping he gets the green light to drive again when he sees his neurologist next but in the mean time Jordie moves in and takes on the roll of designated driver. Sid’s knows he’s damn lucky to have the people around him he does. His other team mates drop by often or invite him over for dinner and although he’s sure it’s Mario or Geno behind everything Sid’s not calling anyone on it. He knows it’s for the best that he’s not on his own right now even though the vodka stockpile is long gone. Geno probably drank it all, the bastard.
**************************************
Sid settles back into a routine of sorts in Pittsburgh, one very different than previous, a life without playing hockey. Where other years he now would be ramping up his fitness training in preparation for training camp this season Sid takes it easy. He does go back to physiotherapy in the hopes it will alleviate the deficits left by his head injury. He also drags his bike out of storage and rides along with Jordie while he runs, heckling him during his wind sprints.
Jordie takes him in to see Dr. James for his follow up appointment. She sends him for more tests and some rigorous neuro assessments and then finally tells him he’s free to drive. It’s a huge relief not to be dependent on others for his transportation. And it comes just in time. Training camp is starting and Jordie’s time is quickly getting tied up with hockey. It won’t be long before the season starts and the team will be away on the road half the time.
Sometimes Sid goes to the rink to work out in the gym with the guys. The trainers adjust his routine and he gamely works out but it’s hard to push himself when there’s no reason. Sid puts on his skates a couple times and does a few turns around the ice while the guys are warming up. He’s come a long way but he’s not kidding himself, or anyone else. He’s not coming back.
***************************************
It gets tougher when the season starts. The guys are totally immersed in hockey, day and night. Sid still sees them at the gym and watches some of the practises but he’s just an observer now. He knows he should probably make a move, get some distance from the Penguins and find some outside interests but he just can’t make himself do it. Hockey was his life.
He goes out with the team one night after a game and almost has a relapse. It’s a close thing. Just being in that environment, with everyone drinking beer and getting a buzz on makes Sid let down his guard. He decides one beer won’t hurt and it leads to another. Geno gives him a disapproving look when he sees him but Sid ignores him. When it’s time to go home Geno insists they share a cab and Sid at least has the presence of mind not to argue.
When he gets home the craving for more alcohol or SOMETHING is so strong he contemplates for a moment seeing if the grocery store will still deliver. He’s almost ready to make the call when he has a flashback to how he was the previous spring, collapsed on the bathroom floor retching his guts out and he puts his phone down. Just, no. The next morning he gets a recommendation from the team for a therapist and makes an appointment to go.
Sid runs into Mario one morning when he’s leaving the rink. He asks Sid what he’s up to and when Sid snorts and tells him “not much,” Mario suggests he coach a midget team for underprivileged kids the Penguins organization is sponsoring. Sid’s first instinct is to say no, he doesn’t know anything about coaching kids, but Mario presses him. He tells Sid that he knows a lot more than he thinks he does. Anyway, right now they don’t have a coach at all so anyone would be an improvement. Most of the kids have never played hockey before either so they won’t know the difference.
It turns out to be a blast. What the kids lack in experience they make up for enthusiasm and Sid is immediately captivated by them. They love Sid right back and he’s soon fully involved in teaching them the basics of hockey and a love for the game. The kids on his team are from one of Pittsburgh’s grittiest neighbourhoods and they haven’t had many good breaks. Learning to play hockey gives them a chance to just be kids. They have a blast. So does Sid. But then he’s just a kid at heart himself when it comes to hockey.
Mario also lines Sid up for some PR work for the Penguins. He makes some appearances around Pittsburgh and does charity work and it’s all okay. He enjoys meeting people and talking hockey with them. But it can be bittersweet. Everyone wants to talk to him about his former career when all Sid really wants to do is look forward. He doesn’t want to dwell on the past. He’d rather be coaching his kids.
Everything keeps him busy, all in all. Sid’s life hits a comfortable rhythm; physio and working out at the gym, weekly visits with his therapist, some charity work, hanging with the guys when they’re in town and of course coaching his team. When Christmas rolls around and his parents arrive in town Sid is mildly surprised at where the time has gone. He’s even more surprised when he realizes how much he’s actually been enjoying himself.
Mario invites Sid and his family over for dinner on Boxing Day. The two families have known each other for years and it’s good to all get together. Taylor and Austin catch up; they’ve been friends for years and they disappear after dinner to compare notes on their hockey careers. The dads wander off to see what sports are on TV while the mom’s clean up after dinner with Lauren and Steph, both home from university. Sid is about to go find the dads when he realizes Mario’s youngest daughter Alexa isn’t with her sisters in the kitchen.
“Where’s Lexie?” he asks Nathalie.
Nathalie looks up from where she’s loading the dishwasher and smiles. “Not sure, Sid. Maybe look in her room?”
“Yeah, okay,” he agrees and then heads down the wing towards the bedrooms. Sid’s always liked all the Lemieux kids, but he’s shared a special bond with Alexa and he hasn’t seen her in a long time. He’d always been drawn to Alexa and he wants to catch up.
Alexa, or Lexie, is the baby of the family and not at all like her attractive, genial older sisters. All awkward angles, thin and plain looking and more reserved than her bubbly siblings. When Sid first moved in with the Lemieuxs she’d followed him around like a puppy and as she got older they’d hung out together and played video games. She’d graduated from high school last spring and Mario had told him she was attending the city university now.
Sid wants to hear all about school but he also wanted to know how she was doing; she’d been pretty quiet all through dinner. Not that quiet was unusual for Alexa. She’s always been pretty reserved, not one to show her hand. But she’d definitely looked like she had things on her mind during dinner.
The door to Alexa’s room is open when Sid gets there and he knocks on the doorframe as he walks in. They’ve got a special code he’s always used, one she recognizes over those of the rest of her family. Alexa is sitting cross legged on her bed bent over her laptop. When she hears the knock she smiles softly and looks up.
“Hey, Sid,” she says.
“Hey, Lexie. How’s it going?”
“It’s going,” she tells him before she pops her laptop shut. “How are you doing?”
“Not bad, considering,” Sid assures her. “How’s school?” he asks as he sits down on the edge of the bed beside her.
“Good.”
“So, what courses are you taking?” Sid prompts once he sees that’s all she’s going to say. Getting information from Alexa can be pretty tough sledding.
She shrugs before wrapping her arms around her knees. “First year arts, that sort of stuff,” she tells him.
Sid watches as she gnaws at her thumbnail. “You were pretty quiet at dinner, Squirt” he finally says, using the nickname he’d had for her when she was a kid.
Alexa tucks a stray strand of hair behind her ear and shrugs again. “You know me, Sid. Just being my normal dorky self.”
Sid nods thoughtfully, waiting a minute to see if she’d elaborate. Nope.
“You know, if you ever need anyone to talk to,” he tells her. “Someone other than your mom and dad or your sisters?”
Sid watches as she worries her lower lip with her teeth. She’s definitely got something on her mind by the look of things. Finally she sighs as if she’s come to a decision.
“I think I might be gay,” she tells him. “Well, I’m pretty sure I am.”
She turns to Sid with a guarded look and waits for his reaction. Sid’s not quite sure what to say but one thing he knows is that he’s not going to insult her by asking her if she’s sure. If there’s one thing about Alexa it’s that she knows her mind.
Instead he asks, “Have you known for a while?”
She rests her chin on her knees and watches him a minute. “Yeah. Years really. Always knew there was something different about me. Just took this year at school to figure some things out.”
“Have you told your parents?” Sid asks her.
“No,” Alexa tells him immediately. “Scared to.”
“Don’t be. They won’t care.”
Alexa looks at him as if he doesn’t have a clue what he’s talking about. “Yeah. Right. They’re Catholic, Sid. Homosexuality isn’t big on their list.”
It’s Sid’s turn to shrug. “I mean it. You can tell them Squirt. It won’t matter.”
“You don’t know that, Sid,” she challenges him.
Sid lets out a deep breath. He knows he has to say something. It’s about time he stepped up to the plate and made an attempt to be honest about himself, if only to help out a kid who’s a lot more perceptive than he ever was.
“Cause I know, Lexie. Because I’m gay, and your dad knows, and he doesn’t care.”
He looks back at her and for a moment she looks like she’s going to swallow her tongue she’s so surprised. Then she looks at him suspiciously as if she can’t bring herself to believe him.
“Seriously?”
Sid smiles at her sheepishly. “Yeah. I am. Or I should say I realized I’m bi.” Sid looks down at where his hands are twisting nervously in his lap. “Although, I’d have to say now that I’m probably really just gay.”
There’s dead silence in the room and Sid tries to think of something meaningful to say that would help Alexa but he’s got nothing. It’s not as if he’s the poster child of gay enlightenment or anything. But one thing he does know for a certainty is that Mario and Nathalie love their kids and if Mario can find it in his Catholic heart to accept Sid he will do no less for his own children.
“So yeah, you don’t have to worry about telling your parents, Lexie. I’m pretty sure.” he assures her.
He gives her what he hopes is a reassuring smile and he’s rewarded when she smiles back and then takes his hand in hers.
“Thanks for telling me, Sid.”
“It’s okay.” He smiles at her a bit wider. “Does it help?”
Alexa just laughs softly. “Kind of,” she tells him. Sid squeezes her much smaller hand gently.
“Good.”
They sit in companionable silence while the sounds of the household go on around them. Sid can hear Mario yelling something in French out in the family room. They must have found a game on.
“Sid?”
“Yeah, Squirt?”
“Is it hard?” Alexa asks him. “I mean, being out. You know, with everyone, with the people you’ve known forever?”
Sid shakes his head. “I’m not exactly there yet, Alexa, I’m afraid. But yeah, I don’t think it’ll be easy. But if you ever need someone to talk to you can call me. Okay? I mean it. Any time.”
“Okay,” she says nodding her head.
“So, do you have a girlfriend?”
“No. I’ve just been going to some meetings and shit at the university.”
“Good. That’ll help,” Sid nods. He’s glad she’s got some kind of a support system at school. No matter what it is it’s got to be better than the NHL.
Alex looks at him with a smile, “Hey, maybe we can go check out some gay bars one day?”
Okay, that makes Sid laugh. “Hah, nice try. You’re nowhere close to twenty-one yet. Your dad would kill me.”
Alexa laughs and then slaps him on the leg. “Stick in the mud.”
“Yup,” Sid agrees. “That’s me. Come on. Let’s go see what everyone else is up to? Okay?”
****************************************
The rest of the winter seems to drag on forever, snow storm after snow storm, some of the coldest temperatures on record but then all of a sudden, come mid March it’s finally over. The weather has finally changed for the better and the days are getting longer.
Sid starts running again at the urging of his physiotherapist Brent. They try to get out two or three times a week. They keep it slow to begin with but when Sid has no headaches afterwards they gradually pick up the pace and distance. Sid is slightly self-conscious about his still awkward gait but it gives him a real sense of accomplishment to get back to doing something he had always taken for granted.
Brent’s gone from being Sid’s physiotherapist to also being a good friend. It’s probably Geno’s fault but at some point in the fall Brent casually asks Sid out for a drink. Sid is taken aback for a moment; he’s not used to the idea that it’s okay for people to know he’s gay. He begs off, saying he’s got plans and Brent leaves the offer open for another time. Sid thinks about the idea a couple days, tries to get his head around actually dating a guy and decides that though Brent is a good guy, Sid’s not ready. It doesn’t feel right.
He lets Brent down gently, telling him as much and he’s happy when Brent is cool about it and tells him they should just hang out instead. Sid likes that. He goes over to Brent’s sometimes and they watch movies or they go out for something to eat. When the weather improves they start jogging. Brent says he’s doing it to get in shape for basketball but Sid knows he’s doing it to help him.
It’s a warm spring day and Sid’s spent it going for a run with Brent and then shooting some hoops at a school near his apartment. They go to a sports bar for some dinner and while they are waiting for the food to arrive Sid catches a glimpse of a familiar figure on the TV behind the bar. He stops what he’s saying in mid sentence and stares at the screen. It feels as if the bottom has dropped out of his world.
Brent immediately turns to see what has captured Sid’s attention and then looks back at him with a concerned look.
“You okay, Sid?” he asks.
Sid nods absently while he continues to watch the screen. He can’t hear what’s being said over the dull hubbub around them but he can clearly see Alex in uniform being helped from the ice, a teammate on each side of him. When the camera pans in Sid can see that Alex’s jaw is clenched in pain. Sid is momentarily stunned that he didn’t even realize he was back in North America and playing again. How could he have not heard?
They both watch as Alex is half carried down towards the dressing room, his injured leg dangling uselessly. The bartender is watching the screen too and Brent calls to him, “What are they saying, Ted?”
“Looks like Ovechkin’s blown out his knee again,” the bartender tells them. “To bad, he’s only been back a couple games. The Caps could use him.”
Brent turns back to Sid again and asks him, “Do you know him, Sid?”
Sid finds he has to clear his throat before he can speak and he delays further by taking a sip of his coffee before he answers. “Yeah. Yeah, I do,” Sid tells him. “Or I did, anyway. I didn’t know he was playing again.”
Sid’s voice is a little hoarse and he takes another mouthful of coffee. His mouth is suddenly very dry. Brent is watching Sid carefully and looking like he’s going to ask more questions but the waitress comes right then with their burgers. Sid smiles gamely when she sets it in front of him, grateful of the interruption.
Sid is quiet during dinner, driven introspective by seeing Alex after so long. The events of the past year had been enough to knock the other man from Sid’s thoughts but seeing him on the sports program bring everything flooding back. Sid knows the team is on a road trip to the west coast so he can’t really call Geno and pump him for information. He’ll have to wait a few days.
That night Sid goes home and thinks about calling Alex. It takes him an hour to get up his nerve but he knows he needs to do it. When he dials the number he’s still got programmed into his phone he gets a recorded message that the number is no longer in service. He sighs and then puts down his phone. It’s probably for the best. So much time has passed. No doubt Alex has moved on.
The next week Sid calls Geno to see what he knows. It’s not much. Geno hadn’t known Alex was back either. Apparently the return had been without fanfare. Geno’s been preoccupied with Natasha and the new baby. He hasn’t been keeping up on the Russian gossip but he promises to find out what he can and report back to Sid.
It takes a few days but Geno is as good as his word. Unfortunately the news is not good. Alex has indeed blown his knee again, had surgery and has already flown back to Russia to recover. Sid doesn’t know if he’s disappointed or relieved. Geno does give Sid Alex’s new phone number though and tells him if he’s interested at all anymore he should call. Sid puts the number in his phone but doesn’t do anything about it.
His kids are having a good season and the playoffs are coming up. He’s got to concentrate on his coaching at this critical time. Brent’s also talked him into doing some upgrading at the community college so he’s got homework most nights. Sid thinks he might like to become some kind of youth counsellor or something one day if he can get into a school. He’s not sure he’ll stick with it but hell, it’s a goal. It gives him something to work towards. Some nights though, when he’s struggling with an English essay, he wants to take Brent and slap him.
Sid follows the team peripherally during their run up to the playoffs and he’s as disappointed as anyone when they fall short. He feels for the guys, particularly the young ones like Krylov and Selander. He and Geno have won their Cup but the younger guys are still hungry. Sid wishes there were something he could do to help make their dream come true.
The Bruins end up winning the Cup. It’s not a surprise; they’ve dominated the league all year but what is slightly surprising is that their all star defenseman York, manages to out himself during the post game celebration when his long term partner jumps over the boards and climbs up him while the cameras are rolling. The onscreen kiss they share is televised coasted to coast. Sid thinks it’s really hot. It’s also the only time he can ever remember seeing Don Cherry speechless.
What’s even more surprising is the fact that York is completely honest with all questions about who the guy was with his legs wrapped around him on the ice. He talks frankly about their relationship, thanking his partner for his tireless support and saying how much he loves him. And a little to Sid’s surprise, no one seems to care. At least, it’s not the controversial news that Sid had always thought such a turn of events would be. It seems that while Sid has been preoccupied with his own health problems the world has slowly changed.
A few weeks later he meets the guys for dinner to catch up. Jordie urges Sid to give Alex a call; tells him he needs to try again. Sid goes home and thinks about it a while. Finally he picks up the phone but it’s not Alex he calls. He phones his mom and dad and tells them he’s coming home for a visit. There are some things he needs to tell them. It’s time.