Fic: Quiet Tragedies (5/5)
Fic: Quiet Tragedies
Part: 5 (final)
Pairing: Booth/Hodgson
Rating: Like Nothing
Summary: David's entire world is ruined when Cody is traded.
Wow, this one took forever to finish. Sorry about that.
The game is not going well. It’s getting dirtier with every shift, and the ref’s aren’t calling nearly enough. David would be able to tell what the game is like even if all he had to rely on were his teammates on the bench; Juice is glowering in tense silence, Zack curses under his breath at every dirty hit, Burr takes every opportunity to scream insults at the other team, Kes continually yanking him back by the jersey, and Cory’s in the corner watching open-mouthed.
In the middle of the third period, Burr gets shoved nearly over the boards into the Canucks’ bench, a brutal crosscheck that leaves him gasping. The bench erupts in shouting as the whistle blows, but Burr’s already screaming at the guy that hit him, gets all-but tackled back against the boards. Kes is there in a second, yanking the guy off of Burr, who was already struggling under the bigger players’ assault.
“Here to defend your boyfriend?” the guy jeers, elbowing at Kes to shake him off.
“Shut your fucking mouth,” Kes snaps, can’t pull him away from Burr, who’s cursing in broken French and putting up as good a fight as he can manage, still breathing in pained gasps from the hit.
“Can’t fight for himself?”
“Don’t fucking touch him,” Kes snarls, grabbing the Kings player by the back of the jersey and throwing him to the ice, all in one fast, hard movement. Kes falls on top of him, lays a few solid hits before the refs are yanking him back.
“You the jealous type?” the guy jeers, as they’re being separated.
“I will fucking kill you if you ever do that again!” Kes roars back across the ice, “do you fucking understand me, asshole? You’ll be dead!”
The game resumes after they’re both sent in for penalties, and Burr sits next to David, breathing heavily.
“You okay?” David asks, and Burr nods. Juice leans over, taps Burr’s shins with his stick.
“He’s got you,” he says, and Burr nods again, smiling this time. It makes David kind of wonder, because that - that wasn’t just a teammate defending another. That was defence of something bigger, maybe, something even more important.
After the game, David can’t look away from them, just does his best to be discreet. He watches the way Kes runs a gentle hand over Burr’s bruises, the long look they exchange, like there’s an entire conversation compressed into the few seconds. When Burr wanders out of the dressing room for a moment, David goes over to Kes’s locker.
“Um,” David starts, not his most eloquent. Kes looks up, pauses in buttoning his shirt cuffs. “Why’d you - that fight?” David doesn’t really know what he’s asking for, what answer he wants, but Kes shrugs a shoulder easily, like the answer is obvious.
“He touched Burr,” Kes says.
“And-”
“And no one fucking touches him,” Kes says, deceptively pleasantly, an undercurrent of intensity running below the words like a livewire. Burr comes back into the room then, and Kes’s attention is drawn to him instantly, like Burr’s a shooting star, something people watch for in the sky, can’t take their eyes off of.
It takes David a while to work out what that weird thing he feels is. It’s not jealousy, not outright. David doesn’t get it until he’s lying awake in bed, the spot next to him achingly empty.
There was a note of pride in Kes’s voice, pride in defending Burr, defending them. If - if Cody were still here, David would be proud to defend him, and no one would know why.
Maybe not even Cody himself.
0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o
They lose.
They lose in the first series, to the Kings, by a city that doesn’t even understand hockey, not like Vancouver does, a city that doesn’t live it and breathe it, lose. At home. They lose, after winning three games, riding high on the belief that they can’t lose, just one more game, one more win and they’ll keep winning, win it all. And then - then, like everything else that matters to David, he was helpless as it was all taken away, and he lost what he dreamed of, he lost a future he never even got to touch.
It’s quiet when David finally leaves the rink, like the city is in mourning, a night of silence for dying dreams. He can’t get the sights out of his head, the way Cory froze up, Keith’s stick cracking against the boards, Lappy’s snarling curses as Kevin pulled him into the other room, Alex crying into his gloves, Ryan’s arm around his shoulders, Mason staring at the ground, Loo’s dead silence.
When David opens his front door, it takes him a moment to realise all the lights are on. He’s halfway to registering confusion when someone nearly tackles him back against the front door, and then David doesn’t care about anything, because Cody’s here.
“I’m sorry you lost,” Cody says against his ear, and David just hugs him hard, breathes him in, loses himself.
“But I made it,” he mumbles, and he doesn’t mean to the Cup, he just means to the end, he’s done it, lived through to this moment, Cody with him again. “Didn’t - didn’t think I would.” There’ve just been so many moments when he thought he wouldn’t, when the pain of missing Cody was so severe, David doesn’t know how he managed to breathe around it, all the times that made him think I don’t deserve him, made him think that distance would extinguish what they had, that they aren’t strong enough, that what they have doesn’t mean enough to hold onto. He didn’t think he’d make it through the rest of the season, because it’s just been so hard. “Cody,” David whispers, buries his face against Cody’s neck. He hasn’t allowed himself to cry, not in front of Cody, has to be strong for him, for them, but David’s just so relieved to be here, and it was so hard, and this isn’t even permanent, and David just can’t take it anymore.
“Oh - fuck, David, are you -” Cody hugs him tighter, “oh, David,” he breathes, “why’d you keep all this in?” He leads David by the hand to bed, where he covers David’s body with his own, kisses him gentle and sweet, lets David cry into his shoulder for all the days they’ve spent apart, all the days they still won’t have together. “It’ll be okay,” he whispers, sounds so sure, the kind of strength David didn’t even know he had.
“But you’re gone,” David manages, wiping at his eyes with his hand.
“I know,” Cody whispers, so pained, like he’s back on the east coast, not so close they’re sharing a pillow. “If - if it hurts too much, we don’t have to - to do this anymore.” He says the words, but David knows him, knows that when Cody bites his lip like that, Cody’s offering something he just doesn’t want, can hardly stand the thought of.
“Cody,” David shakes his head, doesn’t know how he could possibly put it into words, because not doing this anymore, never having Cody again, it’s impossible, the very laws of the universe wouldn’t allow something that wrong to exist. But Cody - he’s looking at David like it’s a possibility, like he thinks David could live with that. “Cody, I’m with love with you,” David finally says, because it doesn’t matter if this destroys him, because Cody looks ruined, thinking that David could ever leave him, because every moment with Cody rebuilds the world David loses every time they’re apart.
“You are?” Cody asks, raw hope in his voice, something like shock. David nods, scoots closer to kiss him, so slow, steady. “I - fuck, David, I’m - I love you,” Cody whispers against his lips, “since- such a long time. And you’d wanna - keep doing this? I know it’s - hard,” he runs his thumb over David’s wet cheek, eyes full of hurt, of hope.
“I don’t care that it hurts when you’re not here, you’re worth suffering for,” David says, and it’s not very eloquent, but Cody smiles like he understands, “you’re worth everything, okay? And if you want to, I’m not losing you because of a stupid trade, I couldn’t - couldn’t ever find this with anyone else. It’s just you, the only thing I want. We- we can do this as long as it takes, I think - I think we can really do it.”
Cody whispers something that sounds like a desperately relieved oh thank God before he buries his face against David’s neck, holds onto him so tight.
It’s the best kind of comfort David’s ever known, how it feels so familiar, falling asleep with Cody in his arms. They have the whole summer ahead, and for a while, David can just forget that there’s another season that will follow it, months upon months apart, so much suffering ahead, but David can forget that for now. Cody’s here, here to stay at least for this short while, and even when he’s gone, he’s still David’s, still loves him, something David can depend on.
The tragedy is gone for a while, quiets and slinks back to wait, and this, snatches of time spent together, forgetting what will come later and just falling into these days now, this is how they survive, so that when it resurfaces, they’ll be strong enough to face it again.
It’s all they can do.
Part: 5 (final)
Pairing: Booth/Hodgson
Rating: Like Nothing
Summary: David's entire world is ruined when Cody is traded.
Wow, this one took forever to finish. Sorry about that.
The game is not going well. It’s getting dirtier with every shift, and the ref’s aren’t calling nearly enough. David would be able to tell what the game is like even if all he had to rely on were his teammates on the bench; Juice is glowering in tense silence, Zack curses under his breath at every dirty hit, Burr takes every opportunity to scream insults at the other team, Kes continually yanking him back by the jersey, and Cory’s in the corner watching open-mouthed.
In the middle of the third period, Burr gets shoved nearly over the boards into the Canucks’ bench, a brutal crosscheck that leaves him gasping. The bench erupts in shouting as the whistle blows, but Burr’s already screaming at the guy that hit him, gets all-but tackled back against the boards. Kes is there in a second, yanking the guy off of Burr, who was already struggling under the bigger players’ assault.
“Here to defend your boyfriend?” the guy jeers, elbowing at Kes to shake him off.
“Shut your fucking mouth,” Kes snaps, can’t pull him away from Burr, who’s cursing in broken French and putting up as good a fight as he can manage, still breathing in pained gasps from the hit.
“Can’t fight for himself?”
“Don’t fucking touch him,” Kes snarls, grabbing the Kings player by the back of the jersey and throwing him to the ice, all in one fast, hard movement. Kes falls on top of him, lays a few solid hits before the refs are yanking him back.
“You the jealous type?” the guy jeers, as they’re being separated.
“I will fucking kill you if you ever do that again!” Kes roars back across the ice, “do you fucking understand me, asshole? You’ll be dead!”
The game resumes after they’re both sent in for penalties, and Burr sits next to David, breathing heavily.
“You okay?” David asks, and Burr nods. Juice leans over, taps Burr’s shins with his stick.
“He’s got you,” he says, and Burr nods again, smiling this time. It makes David kind of wonder, because that - that wasn’t just a teammate defending another. That was defence of something bigger, maybe, something even more important.
After the game, David can’t look away from them, just does his best to be discreet. He watches the way Kes runs a gentle hand over Burr’s bruises, the long look they exchange, like there’s an entire conversation compressed into the few seconds. When Burr wanders out of the dressing room for a moment, David goes over to Kes’s locker.
“Um,” David starts, not his most eloquent. Kes looks up, pauses in buttoning his shirt cuffs. “Why’d you - that fight?” David doesn’t really know what he’s asking for, what answer he wants, but Kes shrugs a shoulder easily, like the answer is obvious.
“He touched Burr,” Kes says.
“And-”
“And no one fucking touches him,” Kes says, deceptively pleasantly, an undercurrent of intensity running below the words like a livewire. Burr comes back into the room then, and Kes’s attention is drawn to him instantly, like Burr’s a shooting star, something people watch for in the sky, can’t take their eyes off of.
It takes David a while to work out what that weird thing he feels is. It’s not jealousy, not outright. David doesn’t get it until he’s lying awake in bed, the spot next to him achingly empty.
There was a note of pride in Kes’s voice, pride in defending Burr, defending them. If - if Cody were still here, David would be proud to defend him, and no one would know why.
Maybe not even Cody himself.
0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o
They lose.
They lose in the first series, to the Kings, by a city that doesn’t even understand hockey, not like Vancouver does, a city that doesn’t live it and breathe it, lose. At home. They lose, after winning three games, riding high on the belief that they can’t lose, just one more game, one more win and they’ll keep winning, win it all. And then - then, like everything else that matters to David, he was helpless as it was all taken away, and he lost what he dreamed of, he lost a future he never even got to touch.
It’s quiet when David finally leaves the rink, like the city is in mourning, a night of silence for dying dreams. He can’t get the sights out of his head, the way Cory froze up, Keith’s stick cracking against the boards, Lappy’s snarling curses as Kevin pulled him into the other room, Alex crying into his gloves, Ryan’s arm around his shoulders, Mason staring at the ground, Loo’s dead silence.
When David opens his front door, it takes him a moment to realise all the lights are on. He’s halfway to registering confusion when someone nearly tackles him back against the front door, and then David doesn’t care about anything, because Cody’s here.
“I’m sorry you lost,” Cody says against his ear, and David just hugs him hard, breathes him in, loses himself.
“But I made it,” he mumbles, and he doesn’t mean to the Cup, he just means to the end, he’s done it, lived through to this moment, Cody with him again. “Didn’t - didn’t think I would.” There’ve just been so many moments when he thought he wouldn’t, when the pain of missing Cody was so severe, David doesn’t know how he managed to breathe around it, all the times that made him think I don’t deserve him, made him think that distance would extinguish what they had, that they aren’t strong enough, that what they have doesn’t mean enough to hold onto. He didn’t think he’d make it through the rest of the season, because it’s just been so hard. “Cody,” David whispers, buries his face against Cody’s neck. He hasn’t allowed himself to cry, not in front of Cody, has to be strong for him, for them, but David’s just so relieved to be here, and it was so hard, and this isn’t even permanent, and David just can’t take it anymore.
“Oh - fuck, David, are you -” Cody hugs him tighter, “oh, David,” he breathes, “why’d you keep all this in?” He leads David by the hand to bed, where he covers David’s body with his own, kisses him gentle and sweet, lets David cry into his shoulder for all the days they’ve spent apart, all the days they still won’t have together. “It’ll be okay,” he whispers, sounds so sure, the kind of strength David didn’t even know he had.
“But you’re gone,” David manages, wiping at his eyes with his hand.
“I know,” Cody whispers, so pained, like he’s back on the east coast, not so close they’re sharing a pillow. “If - if it hurts too much, we don’t have to - to do this anymore.” He says the words, but David knows him, knows that when Cody bites his lip like that, Cody’s offering something he just doesn’t want, can hardly stand the thought of.
“Cody,” David shakes his head, doesn’t know how he could possibly put it into words, because not doing this anymore, never having Cody again, it’s impossible, the very laws of the universe wouldn’t allow something that wrong to exist. But Cody - he’s looking at David like it’s a possibility, like he thinks David could live with that. “Cody, I’m with love with you,” David finally says, because it doesn’t matter if this destroys him, because Cody looks ruined, thinking that David could ever leave him, because every moment with Cody rebuilds the world David loses every time they’re apart.
“You are?” Cody asks, raw hope in his voice, something like shock. David nods, scoots closer to kiss him, so slow, steady. “I - fuck, David, I’m - I love you,” Cody whispers against his lips, “since- such a long time. And you’d wanna - keep doing this? I know it’s - hard,” he runs his thumb over David’s wet cheek, eyes full of hurt, of hope.
“I don’t care that it hurts when you’re not here, you’re worth suffering for,” David says, and it’s not very eloquent, but Cody smiles like he understands, “you’re worth everything, okay? And if you want to, I’m not losing you because of a stupid trade, I couldn’t - couldn’t ever find this with anyone else. It’s just you, the only thing I want. We- we can do this as long as it takes, I think - I think we can really do it.”
Cody whispers something that sounds like a desperately relieved oh thank God before he buries his face against David’s neck, holds onto him so tight.
It’s the best kind of comfort David’s ever known, how it feels so familiar, falling asleep with Cody in his arms. They have the whole summer ahead, and for a while, David can just forget that there’s another season that will follow it, months upon months apart, so much suffering ahead, but David can forget that for now. Cody’s here, here to stay at least for this short while, and even when he’s gone, he’s still David’s, still loves him, something David can depend on.
The tragedy is gone for a while, quiets and slinks back to wait, and this, snatches of time spent together, forgetting what will come later and just falling into these days now, this is how they survive, so that when it resurfaces, they’ll be strong enough to face it again.
It’s all they can do.