afraid of standing still [4/4]
Title: afraid of standing still
Author: sherlockelly
Pairing: Dany Heatley/OMC
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: Real people, fake story.
Word Count: 25,795
Summary: Dany Heatley continues to drift violently away from the idea of the man he had wanted to be.
one . two . three . four
March 8th, 2008
Phoenix, AZ
Dany sits at the bar in Phoenix and sips at his drink. His hair hasn’t even dried from the post game shower yet and the water itches under the collar of his suit. It’s a good night to go out, the win still vibrating through his veins. After so long of being out of the lineup, he’s still not taking a moment for a granted. And tonight, the win was much needed after the loss two nights back in Los Angeles, the agonizing shut-out to cap off a three game losing streak down the California coast.
But, none of that tonight, Dany reassures himself, a smile crooking his lips. His phone buzzes in his pocket, and when he sees Michael’s name on the screen all thoughts of wins and loses are forgotten.
Good game tonight. Nice goal, too. ;) You out celebrating?
Dany chuckles as he reads the message. definitely looking to keep the party going he clicks out quickly and sets the phone next to his drink on the bar, finishing off the last of it and gesturing for another. The Saturday night crowd is still holding strong despite the late hour.
He surveys the men milling around, most of them in tight jeans and sheer cotton shirts, the Phoenix heat stifling even in early March. A select few mingle in suits, like him. His phone buzzes again.
Have a great time, babe. Love you! Call me in the morning.
Dany can’t sing the praises of his boyfriend enough, he thinks as he slides the phone back into his pocket. Though now it’s time to choose his prey for the evening, Dany feels himself hardening already.
He turns in his seat to appraise the crowd once more and after another sweep of the room, he catches eyes with a man in the other corner, nursing a beer. He’d know that stance from a mile away.
“Shit,” he nearly chokes on his drink as the recognition flashes in the other man’s eyes as well. His buzz is dead instantly as Jason Spezza makes his way across the room toward Dany.
The walk over feels like an eternity and Dany turns to set his drink back on the counter, praying this is all just in his head, that the man just looks like Spez. He lifts out of his seat but Jason is at his side before he can leave.
He’s at least relieved to see that Spezza doesn’t look any more thrilled about this than he does; there is no knowing gleam in his eyes, no half-cocked grin. Just wide-eyes and a nervous sweat.
“So,” Spezza rubs his hand through his hair, hips tilting to the side as his knees lock. “What are you doing here?”
“Just checking the place out,” Dany hopes he sounds indifferent, like he hasn’t been to this bar every night he’s able when he happens to be in town.
“Yeah, uh. Me, too.” Spez finishes off the last half of his beer in remarkable speed and Dany tries not to notice. “Nothin’ special, eh?” He wipes his mouth with the back of his jacket sleeve and sets the empty bottle down. He can’t quite tell if Spez means the bar or the men in it.
Dany plays off his nervous laughter as agreement. “Nope. I was just on my way out, actually.”
“Yeah, uh, me too. See you at the hotel.”
“Yeah, see ya.” He jumps on the opportunity to leave, not even caring to make note of the fact that he doesn’t see Jason following him out; nor that Jason still hasn’t left when Dany’s cab finally arrives.
October 1st, 2003
Atlanta, GA
No one will tell him how Dan is doing; they barely tell him how he is doing. He can feel what is broken in his body, what hurts and where, the chafing of the metal around his ankle that bothers him sometimes when his foot falls asleep.
But, for the most part, they keep him sedated. The world fades in and out of focus around him as he tries to find some thought to help ground himself. When he closes his eyes, it’s all bricks and pine needles until the edges start to turn black and he is swept back under water, no more answers there than in waking.
October 13th, 2008
Ottawa, ON
Dany doesn’t go out as often anymore after the incident last season with Spezza. He’s surprised to find that he doesn’t miss it all that much, not really. And it was always harder to go out on a long home stand anyway.
Since the night in Phoenix, neither he nor Spez have spoken of the incident to one another directly, though Dany was uneasy with way Jason liked to hint at ‘indiscretions’ in Dany’s presence, his eyebrows crooked in a way that made Dany’s palms sweat and his pulse race.
Michael insisted that Dany was being unreasonable when he took anything Spez said as more than normal ribbing between teammates, but it wasn’t a secret around the locker room that their relationship had pretty much deteriorated after some unknown incident at the end of the previous regular season. Chris Phillips had tried to ask Dany about it once and he’d artfully stalled the conversation. The only good part about being swept in the first round of the playoffs was that Philly had been too preoccupied to remember to bring the falling out back up.
Preoccupied then, however, didn’t necessarily mean forgotten or abandoned, and Dany had caught more than a few long stares from Chris and Jason alike. Times like this he hated going home to an empty apartment, the messages on his answering machine a far cry from having the real Michael on hand.
He’d been spoiled over the summer, like every summer, and being back always took getting used to. But, Dany knew, he had always been pretty good at that ‘getting used to’ thing.
November 8th, 2008
Raleigh, NC
“I slept with a woman tonight,” Dany sounds incredulous even to his own ears, and still a little bit drunk, as he listens to the strange strangled noise Michael makes on the other end of the line.
“Are you ill?” Mike half-chokes, half-laughs and Dany winces at the sound.
“I had to. They were starting to notice.”
“Notice what?” Michael almost sounds hurt and it makes Dany feel even worse.
“That I never brought anyone home from the bars.”
“Well, not their bars. Or Jason’s bars,” Michael laughs again and Dany feels his blood pressure rising.
“It’s not about Spez!” He honestly regrets ever telling Michael that story. “It’s about the rest of them. They look at me, you know. With that fuckin’ stupid question on their faces like they’re just waiting to call me out on it and I’m sick of it, Mike! Fucking sick of it!”
He’s not in the mood to joke tonight. Not about this, not after what he just did.
“M’sorry. But what does fuckin’ some chick have to do with any of this?”
“To get them off my back about it!”
“They’ve never said anything to you about it, I don’t know why you think suddenly they will now!”
“Because they don’t have to! They don’t have to say anything, not with the way they act around me. ‘Specially not Spez.”
“Well fuck him! Just because he’s s a goddamned closet case doesn’t mean-”
Dany is nearly blind with rage at that. “Well so am fucking I, Christ!” Dany kicks the wastebasket clean across the room and hears the metal thunk as it collides with the dresser.
“Calm down, Dany, you know I didn’t mean it like that.”
He’s too mad to hear Michael’s pleas; mad at Jason, mad at himself. Mad at that stupid woman who’d agreed to come back here with him in the first place. He can hear Michael talking but he sounds too far away for Dany to hear the actual words.
The knock on his hotel door is enough to snap him out of his fit.
He hangs up the phone quickly without a word and sees Phillips through the peephole, scuffing his feel on the carpet.
They both look sheepish as Dany unlocks the door.
“Um. Fish said he heard ya screamin’ through the wall. Figured that uh, that you were done with yer guest.”
The words cut Dany to the core but he tries his best to play cool.
“Yeah, she cut out a while ago.” Even saying ‘she’ is embarrassing to Dany and he looks away, worries that Philly can see right through him. He steps aside to let his roommate back in, ignoring Michael calling him back. Chris seems to notice the sound of the vibrating from Dany’s pocket.
“I can come back if ya wanna take that. I was jus’ hanging out with Vermy watching a movie, s’not a big deal.”
“No, no. It’s fine, you’re fine, I was just. Yeah.”
Dany feels itchy as his phone buzzes with the missed call before he can feel the pulses signaling that Michael is calling him again. He pulls it out to switch it off, tossing it on his unmade bed. Just the sight of the rumpled sheets has his skin crawling.
“M’gonna jump in the shower real quick but, um.” Dany stops himself before he can ramble on anymore and practically trips on himself into the bathroom.
He scrubs his skin nearly raw in the shower and prays the water is loud enough to drown out his quiet crying.
January 27th, 2009
Ottawa, ON
Locker room talk is usually bawdy and crude but he’s managed to attune his brain to shut most of that out. Sometimes things catch his ears though, when it’s not something he hears often, or when it’s his own name.
He catches a whisper of ‘Dany’ on a teammate’s lips and looks up, though they all seem completely engaged in conversation and no one is looking at him to implicate themselves.
He goes back to work pulling up his socks and securing them in place.
“Faggot.”
It’s quiet, under someone’s breath, and maybe even not directed at him or related to the fact that he just heard his name. But that doesn’t stop the bubbling unease in his gut or the nervous noise he makes as his sweaty fingers try to grip his breezers but slip free.
He allows a long beat to pass before he looks up and around the room again. Spezza catches his eyes, grins unsympathetically and laughs his cackling laugh.
Everything around him rapidly begins to feel too tight. His gear, his skin, Ottawa. His whole life seems suddenly like a cage too small to contain him.
February 14th, 2009
St. Paul, MN
Philly has always known Michael as Dany’s friend from college. It’s the story they’d settled on a while ago and one that they were content to stick with while it was believable. And, if they noticed that Michael had timed his monthly road visit with Valentine’s Day, well, none of them was brave enough to mention it this time around.
It was hard to visit on the road, team events more than obligatory when they were traveling together, but Chris was good about being gone when he needed to be and Dany was able to overlook his paranoia when it came to bringing Michael around after so long of not seeing him.
“This one is new,” Michael grazes his finger over a blue swipe across Dany’s ribcage.
“Boards,” Dany smirks, letting Michael examine every inch of his bare skin, his own ritual after time apart. Michael lowers his lips to the bruise and sucks gently, causing Dany to roll his eyes back, biting his lip to stay quiet.
He’s sprawled naked on his hotel bed while Michael worries over him in tented boxers, and they’re alone on the floor, at least as far as teammates are concerned, but Dany is always cautious.
The knocking on his door seems to confirm his own prudence and Michael pulls off of him with an annoyed look.
“I’ll tell ‘im to fuck off,” Dany sighs heavily, assuming another teammate has come to try and usher him out for a night on the town.
“You better. S’our anniversary,” Michael tries to look irritated but the blush on his cheeks makes him look more aroused than anything.
“Heater? You in there?” He recognizes the coach’s voice immediately.
“Shit.” Dany jerks upright faster than he means to, nearly knocking Michael on the floor. They share a panicked look before Michael grabs for his t-shirt and jeans, ducking into the bathroom and locking the door.
“Coming,” Dany’s voice sounds strangled but the knocking stops. He grabs a robe from the closet and ties it tight around his waist. He hopes his lips don’t look too raw from kissing as he opens the door slowly.
“Hey. You busy?”
“Um, no. Not really,” he lies easily. “Something wrong?”
“Just hoping I’d be able to talk with you for a few,” Clouston brushes past Dany and sits on the mussed comforter. “We haven’t had much time to talk since I’ve been here and I thought seeing as you were still around tonight, we could catch up a little.”
Dany hopes the sag in his shoulders isn’t painfully obvious as he takes a seat beside his coach.
It’s an hour later before he’s finally able to coax Clouston out of the room, their conversation covering everything from the power play units, to Alberta, to current movie releases. Dany opens the door to the bathroom to find Michael sitting on the floor, dozing off with his head tipped against the lip of the tub.
“Hey, babe.” He gently shakes the man awake, amused smirk on his face as Michael immediately reaches for him. “Sorry about that.”
“S’okay,” his voice is slurred with sleep still as he tries to rouse himself enough to stand on his own. “Everything all right with you?”
“Yeah. Just talkin’ business,” Dany leaves his answer vague. He doesn’t need to ruin this night by adding stress to the evening.
“Y’sure?”
“Mmhmm.” Dany puts on his best seductive grin and hauls Michael to his feet, letting his bathrobe fall open. “Now, where were we?”
April 13th, 2009
Ottawa, ON
Dany sits in the locker room beside his teammates, cleaning out his locker and facing the onslaught of press. They all seem to blame him, the staff, the guys, the interviewers.
He bites his tongue and gives his best canned answer to their probing questions about the utter meltdown of a season the Senators had just produced, somehow with Dany leading the fucking way to failure.
Four hours later, the last of the cameras and recorders are ushered out the door and he’s staring down the angry faces of his teammates. It’s not even a tiny bit easier.
June 9th, 2009
Kelowna, BC
“I called them.” Dany walks in the door of the lake house and throws his bag of gear down in the foyer. He’s still dripping sweat from the game of shinny and the air-conditioning in the house feels amazing. Michael looks up from a book in his lap, his reading glasses sitting on the edge of his nose, his bare feet perched on the arm of the sofa.
“Who’s ‘them’?” He scrunches up his face and pokes out his tongue to wet his lips.
“The Senators. I called them. I told them I wanted a trade.”
Michael sits bolt upright, shutting the book loud enough to make a noise. “You what?! Dany, why?!” The reaction has Dany second guessing himself immediately. “I thought we talked about this! A thousand times! You’re just being paranoid about Spezza and!” Michael cuts himself off abruptly.
“Well, what’s done is done now. I already talked to the management and my agent and told them I’m not happy there. I want to be dealt out of Ottawa.”
He had expected Michael to be happier for him, taking something into his own hands for once.
“When did you call?”
“After the game,” he runs a hand though his sweaty hair and eyes the direction of the shower.
“And you didn’t think you ought to come home and maybe mention this shit to me first! Dany, I don’t get you! You get so fucking pissed off when things don’t go your way and yet you pull the wool over everyone’s eyes all the time! I swear half the fucking time I don’t know what you’re thinking until three months later and there’s some fallout for it.”
It hits Dany like a punch to the gut. “You always know what I’m thinking, Mike.” He doesn’t mean to sound so bewildered, but that’s one thing about Michael that Dany has never questioned.
“Not lately! You’ve gotten so goddamned obsessed with thinking they’re out to get you ‘cause you’re gay or some other invented reason, it’s turned you into a completely suspicious person!”
“It’s true though! I know Spez told them! Clouston has had it in for me since the day he caught you leaving my hotel room, cutting my minutes nearly in half since then, and rest of the guys, they fucking laugh when they see you visiting me, you know that!”
“They don’t, Dany. They don’t do that; it’s all in your head!”
“How could you possibly even know that?! Of course they don’t do it in front of you.” Even if Dany is wrong, Michael wouldn’t have any way of proving what he says is true either; he’s never been there to see it.
“They’re all going to accuse you of just jumping ship now, you realize that right? You’re pissed that you’re their scapegoat, or that you feel like you are, and you’ve just gone and made this a fucking thousand times worse for yourself! You better pray the team doesn’t find out.”
“I thought you’d be on my side!”
“Dany, I’m always on your side, but sometimes I don’t think you want me there! If you did, you would have discussed this with me first!”
He doesn’t have a good answer for that and the last bit of his bravado starts to crumble.
“Do you really think I’m lying about them?”
“I don’t think that you think you’re lying, but honestly, I don’t know.”
“I’m miserable there. I have been since, God, since I can remember.”
“I know.”
“Then why aren’t you at least a little bit happy for me that I’m trying to get myself out of it.”
“Because you did it without me. Not even just that, you never even told me that you were considering it as an option.”
“But it has nothing to do with you!”
The words are out of him in a rush and the hurt look on Michael’s face is instantaneous. He takes off his glasses and sets them on the coffee table beside his book, toes curling into the carpet.
“D’you really think that’s true? That where you live and work has absolutely nothing to do with me?” He’s eerily calm but the watery gleam in his eyes has Dany backpedaling quickly.
“Mike, fuck. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like-”
“But it’s what you said! It’s how you’re always acting. I swear you don’t even think of me as being a part of your life. Five years we’ve been together and I don’t even get the consideration you’d give a goddamned housecat when it comes to things like this.
“I know why you left Atlanta, I supported you on that. I was so fucking happy that you got what you wanted, and Christ, I would have supported you on this, too because I know you’re miserable and that they treat you like shit.”
Michael’s voice breaks on his last word and he hides his face in his hands.
Dany has no idea how this went from zero to sixty, except that he does, because it was his fault.
“How long have you been thinking about this?” Michael squeaks.
Dany wants to lie, he honestly doesn’t know how the truth could fix this because he knows what Michael wants him to say. He wants him to say that it was on a whim; he’d woken up that morning and just decided to get out.
“Since March.”
“Do you even love me anymore?” The subject changes unexpectedly and Dany isn’t even sure he heard right.
He’s across the room in three strides, ignoring the fact that he’s sweating all over the sofa.
“I love you, Michael. I fucking love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone. More than fucking hockey, you know that.”
“I don’t know that.”
“If I didn’t love you, I wouldn’t even be trying to leave Ottawa. I hate how they act when they see you, even Philly has been a little bitch about giving up the room and I just. I never should have been so goddamned careless in the first place.”
“You’d rather me just stay away completely then?”
“No! Fuck, Mike, no. I’m leaving because I want you around. I’m just trying to protect you from them.”
“Protecting me from them? Fuck off, Dany, you’re hiding me from them. And I know why you do it, I’m not saying I don’t understand, but just cut the self-righteous bullshit, all right? It is what it is. You’re scared.”
“Of course I am, Mike! This isn’t easy, you know! There’s a fucking reason that not a single NHLer has come out. The fact that you even come around at all is a huge thing.”
“They think I’m your cousin or your college buddy, whatever you tell them!”
“They used to. They don’t believe that any more.”
“So what, so you go to a brand new city and you start over again more carefully? Hide me better?”
And like that, Dany thinks he finally gets it. Michael blinks back tears, his icy blue eyes even brighter as he struggles not to cry.
“I don’t want to leave Ottawa because they know about you, Michael. I want to leave Ottawa because of how they treat us now that they know about you. I’m getting too old to lie.”
“You’re not old,” Michael protests, tiredly.
“In hockey years, I’m getting there.” They both laughs despite themsevles. “Just, I don’t want to do this shuffle forever, spending our anniversary hiding you in bathrooms because the coach wants to bitch at me, that’s stupid. I just want to start over; but I’m not trying to do it without you.”
Michael leans into him, resting his head on his shoulder and the tension of the argument starts to drain. He drapes his arm around the man and pulls him closer.
“I should have told you, you’re right. M’sorry that I didn’t. I was afraid you’d try to talk me out of it.”
“I want you to be happy.”
“We will be.” Dany knows it’s true.
September 30th, 2003
Atlanta, GA
Every time he wakes up, Dany has to re-remember. The grogginess pulls him back into something that he’s starting to think of as his own survival mode, though he hardly feels better for it.
The second thing he does when he wakes up is search the room for his mother. He curses the policewoman in the corner whose presence has tricked him more than a few times. They make eye contact and Dany looks away.
She had woken him up early, or maybe late, the night before. Dany doesn’t know what day it is anymore, if time is even moving.
She had woken him up to show him pictures of his car, what was left of it; another officer was lingering behind her but he had stepped up and shackled Dany’s ankle to the hospital bed. The woman had all but spat at him when she demanded his version of the events and Dany’s ears were ringing as he tried to piece anything together. She seemed annoyed when he couldn’t be more than just vague.
Then, she’d photographed him, a booking photo; though his hospital gown was hanging halfway off, too small for his body, and his face, he was sure, was still bloody.
She was not his mother, but every time he woke, Dany hoped maybe she would be there in the officer’s place.
Another presence in the room has his vision spinning to focus on the sad looking man that he recognizes as important, but even that instant familiarity in the sea of police and doctors and nurses is enough to be comforting and he’s crying before he can help himself.
“Dany?”
One of the owners, Dany places him as he gets closer, but the man’s eyes are enough to show that he’s not here on business.
“How’s Dan?” He doesn’t mean to sound so small, but it’s hard to talk through the tears and every little sob makes tendrils of fire shoot through his jaw, despite the pain medication dripping steadily into his body.
“He’s pretty banged up. I don’t really know his condition though. Son, are your parents here?”
“I-no. I don’t think. Maybe on the plane still.” Dany is still fairly certain they’re coming. He won’t let himself think otherwise yet, but it’s been so long since he’s seen them. When the man reaches to shake his hand, they collapse together in a weak half-hug that has Dany’s face crushed up against the man’s chest and it hurts worse even that the tears, but he wants this closeness enough to ignore that.
“I don’t remember what happened,” he offers it up weakly, though the question he’s answering was never asked. “I just know Dan is hurt.”
That’s all anyone will tell him, but he’d seen the blood on the pavement in the photos. He’d seen the car.
The man stays with him for a few hours and they talk hockey, half-heartedly. Dany knows he’s not conscious for much of the visit; every time his eyes close it feels like days before he opens them again, every blink taking a wedge of time off the clock.
When he blinks again, it is morning. He’s alone.
July 3rd, 2009
Kelowna, BC
For the last two weeks, when he dreams about the accident, all foggy scenes and earthy smells, it’s been Michael in the car beside him, bracing on the dash.
The face is different, but the uncertainty is all the same. Sometimes Dany wishes he could stand on the rooftops and scream his remorse until his throat bleeds. No one will ever be able to see so much of him to know how he chooses to suffer.
The harshest punishment he imposes on himself is that he never allows himself to imagine it ended differently.
August 1st, 2009
Kelowna, BC
“Are we too old for this?” Michael startles Dany when he walks into the bathroom where Dany is brushing his teeth.
“Jesus, Mike! Warn a guy,” he speaks around the mouthful of toothpaste before spitting impatiently.
“But, I mean, are we?”
“Too old for what?” His spit still feels thick and Dany rinses his mouth again before turning to cock his hip, hoping his body language conveys his displeasure with the fact his heart is still racing from the scare.
“Well, maybe not too old, but just, too… I don’t know. Too something.”
“For. What?” He speaks slowly but with great annoyance.
“This long distance thing.” Michael’s voice softens. “I mean, you’re about to start your new season, maybe in Ottawa, maybe god-knows-where, and Dany. Aren’t you tired of it?”
“Of hockey?” He suddenly feels like this conversation is too serious to be having in his pajamas and Dany tugs on the hem of the ratty grey t-shirt, fingers one of the holes where the threads have pulled loose.
“No! Of this,” he gesticulates back and forth between the two of them. “These amazing summers of just us and. How it feels when it’s over. I fucking hate when it’s over.”
Dany hates it, too. He does. Especially now, this year. Not knowing how far he’s going to be, if he’ll be anywhere new at all. If he’ll have to go back to that locker room with those guys that he wants to like, that he pretends to get along with, who all just pretend to get along with him. Though, with the trade request ending up the talk of the town, he’s not sure they’ll even be in the mood for pretending much longer.
He’d turned down Edmonton, but at least had thought enough to talk it through with Michael first this time. He explained carefully that he wanted to end up on a winning team and it had nothing to do with not wanting to move even closer to Kelowna. But now, with the way he was being crucified, even the Oilers were starting to seem like a good idea.
“I told you my not wanting to go to Edmonton had nothing to do with you,” Dany begins delicately.
“I’m not talking about Edmonton. I’m not even talking about Kelowna,” he waves his arms around.
“What do you mean then?”
“I don’t know. Maybe just, something more permanent than July and August.”
Dany doesn’t answer as his mind tries to wrap around what Michael is hinting at. He would love to be able to see Michael year-round, but it was risky. Ottawa had proven that far and away, and Michael’s teaching job was here. Though, it wasn’t like Dany hadn’t considered the idea before.
“You want to live with me?” He hopes his guess is on target.
“I don’t know.”
“You keep saying that you don’t know, but it sounds like you have an idea about something.” He’s getting impatient.
“Yeah, maybe. It was just a thought I had, okay? Forget I brought it up.”
Dany doesn’t want to forget, though. The thought of being able to spend more time with Michael and less time alone had been tantalizing him for the last year and half and he knew it had nothing to do with needing a companion. The number of times he’d been out on roadtrips this past season had dwindled down to nearly single digits, and while they never really talked about concrete numbers, Dany was fairly certain that Michael hadn’t been out with anyone else for a while, either. Even during the season.
Moving in together had seemed like a feasible idea once Dany realized that fact.
“You know, I offered it once. If I recall, you turned me down.”
“You offered me your vacant house,” Michael picks at a hangnail.
“It would have been our house.” It’s barely a whisper. “If you’d said yes.”
“I should have.”
Dany leans in the doorframe and looks down at their bare feet. Another end to another summer. Their knees nearly touch as Michael moves a step closer, both of them all bronzed skin.
“I love you, you know,” he wraps his fingers around Michael’s wrist and pulls him into a hug.
“I know. You, too.”
“You love you, too?” Michael snorts at Dany’s joke but buries his nose in the soft cotton of his shirt anyhow, nuzzling into the valley between his muscles.
“No, you ass. I love you.”
“We’ll figure out a way to make it work. No matter what ends up happening.” That’s something Dany isn’t willing to compromise.
September 12, 2009
Kelowna, BC
Dany’s bags are packed already for the trip back to training camp in Ottawa. He’s been nauseated for days thinking about having to back there, how much worse it will be after the shit storm of media over the summer.
He has felt like a man walking to the gallows for most of the last week and a half and every time his phone rings he has to catch himself from being too hopeful.
Though, finally, he gets the call he’s been waiting for.
Dany is sure he’s scared the living hell out of Michael the way he comes tearing into the bedroom calling his name. Michael drops the neatly-folded pile of laundry and it topples across the bed. He crosses his arms over his chest.
“What the hell, Dany?”
“I got it!” He grabs for Michael’s shoulders and shakes him. The weight of the world feels like it’s been removed from his back and Dany can finally catch his breath.
“The trade?” The quirk of a smile on Michael’s lips is the most beautiful thing he’s seen in ages and Dany can’t help but kiss him. “I’m guessing yes,” Michael gasps when Dany pulls back.
“To San Jose. California!”
“West coast?!” Michael seems just as excited by this news and Dany kisses him again. “That’s such a short plane ride! No time change! And fuck, you look damned good in shorts.”
Dany’s laugh reverberates through his entire body.
“I’m so happy for you, love.” Michael has to stand on his tiptoes to reach around Dany’s neck, and once he’s there, he’s literally hanging from him. “I’ll still miss the hell out of you, but it’s so much closer. And so close to San Francisco, too! No doubt you’ll be busy!”
Michael pulls back enough to wink as he laughs, settling back down to his own two feet, his arms still draped loosely around Dany’s waist.
“Probably not.” Dany bites his lip, something serious stirring in his gut.
“Oh, come on, you aren’t that old, Heater! You have to at least visit the Castro.”
“I want you to come with me.” Dany blurts it out.
“Well, obviously, when I’m in town.” Michael rolls his eyes as though Dany is being the most oblivious person in the world.
“No. Michael. I want you to come with me. To San Jose. I want you to move with me.”
Michael stammers a bit like he’s trying to wrap his head around Dany’s suggestion. “T-to my own place?”
“No. One place. Ours. Just like the summer house. Except all the time.”
“I-I don’t know if I can get another job down there before-I mean the school year just started and-.”
“So? Michael, fuck it! We’ve wanted to do this, we both hate the distance. And I love you. If you can’t find a teaching job right away, who cares? You have time to look, we can afford for you to take the time.”
Michael regards him with such a curious look of spontaneity, one that Dany hasn’t seen on his face more than twice since the night they met in Vancouver.
“All right.”
“All right?”
“Yes, Dany. I’ll go with you.” He says it with a look of complete disbelief, but his grin doesn’t lie. With a resolute tug, the two of them collapse back into the mussed pile of forgotten laundry, all limbs and smiles and love.
September 29th, 2003
Atlanta, GA
They pull up to the red light at the Lenox, Paces Ferry intersection and Dany revs the engine, laughing.
“I’m full as fuck,” he leans back in the driver’s seat, rubbing his stomach. Dan groans in agreement.
“Good fuckin’ burgers though.” Dan tilts his head to the side until his neck pops and sighs in relief. “‘M achy as shit and the season hasn’t even started yet. S’gonna be a long-ass year.”
“Oh, quit bitchin’, old man,” Dany scoffs and chuckles, but his own body has been feeling that same throbbing soreness that reminds him of hockey. He couldn’t be happier with it.
Dany hates how long this light is and starts drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. Dan turns up the volume on the radio and starts belting out along with the music.
“Thoughts arrive like butterflies! Oh he don't know, so he chases them away!” Dany slaps at Dan from the driver’s seat but he keeps singing. “Someday yet! He'll begin his life again!”
“You’re a fuckin’ shit singer, too,” Dany swipes at him again but Dan only laughs in response.
“You just don’t know talent when it’s sittin’ right next to ya!” Dan punches him in the arm and the car lurches forward into the intersection. Dany grabs the wheel tight and shoots Dan a look.
“Hey, watch it, you dick!” But try as he might, Dany can’t keep the amusement from his voice.
“Maybe keep yer foot on the brake then, eh?”
“No time fer brakes if were gonna beat Kovy home.”
The light changes and the two catch each other’s eyes. Dany winks and guns the engine, flying down the road toward his house. Their house.
“Kneelin'! Duh duh dum-dum dah dum doesn't know to read!” Dan starts singing again.
“Ya don’t even know the fuckin’ words, Dan! Christ!” He tips his head back and laughs, fingers curling around the steering wheel, gliding along the turns.
“Something! Something-something halls of shame!”
“Yer the one that’s fucking shameful, I tell ya.” Dany brushes a curl out of his eyes before returning the rude gesture Dan throws his way.
“S’only shameful that we’re not home yet, Heater! You know Kovy’s probably already passed out in bed.”
“Probably is, fuckin’ maniac,” Dany laughs as he taps the brake around the curve.
“Even flow! Thoughts arrive like butterflies!”
Dany pushes harder on the gas out of a slight turn into the straightaway, watching the rows of shrubs bleed into a streak of dark green. He yawns despite the din of the music; he can’t wait to get home. Dan starts banging away on the dash like a drum set, and Dany laughs at the realization that his rhythm as terrible as his voice.
“Oh, he don't know! So he chases them away!”
The flash of silver in the corner of his eye is enough and Dany turns. The car backing out of driveway in front of him catches both of them entirely by surprise and he only has time to register taillights before Dan is shouting his name.
“Shit!”
Someday yet he'll begin his life again. Whispering hands, carry him away.
Dany swerves to left, into the oncoming lane. He can feel his stomach twisting as they move. As the back wheels skid out wider than the front, he knows he’s not in control anymore. Dany grips the wheel as hard as he can, trying to get back into the right lane. In his periphery he can see Dan bracing himself on the dash.
The car fishtails sideways until the tires finally catch the traction of the road, but as they do, the steering wheel spins out of Dany’s hands. Like a slide into the boards, position the right way, tighten your muscles, ride it out. And pray.
He slams his foot down to the floor and realizes too late that he never moved over to the brakes.
They bounce as the car hits the curb. He doesn’t even have time to shout before everything is suddenly nothing but black.
September 19th, 2009
San Jose, CA
He wakes up in his bed, Michael curled up beside him. The mental chiding is quick and instinctive; their bed. Their first bed that isn’t temporary, ‘in the meantime’, between seasons or school years or across borders or oceans. Michael sighs in his sleep, twisting up in the sheets closer to Dany’s body.
It’s easy to breathe in the warm bedroom air and despite the fact that he’s up before the sun, Dany feels awake. Ten more days; he brushes a hand through his short hair and scratches the back of his neck.
The countdown is always in the back of his mind, a nervous tick that his brain can’t turn off.
Maybe this is not his new beginning, and, for what it’s worth, Dany is rather sure that it isn’t. But this is new, this ease in his own skin, this patience with himself. He doesn’t feel better; Dany is familiar with that dangerous type of thinking. He doesn’t feel more self-assured, and certainly not whole. But he does feel different.
And for today, for now, that is something.
comment here please!
Author: sherlockelly
Pairing: Dany Heatley/OMC
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: Real people, fake story.
Word Count: 25,795
Summary: Dany Heatley continues to drift violently away from the idea of the man he had wanted to be.
one . two . three . four
March 8th, 2008
Phoenix, AZ
Dany sits at the bar in Phoenix and sips at his drink. His hair hasn’t even dried from the post game shower yet and the water itches under the collar of his suit. It’s a good night to go out, the win still vibrating through his veins. After so long of being out of the lineup, he’s still not taking a moment for a granted. And tonight, the win was much needed after the loss two nights back in Los Angeles, the agonizing shut-out to cap off a three game losing streak down the California coast.
But, none of that tonight, Dany reassures himself, a smile crooking his lips. His phone buzzes in his pocket, and when he sees Michael’s name on the screen all thoughts of wins and loses are forgotten.
Good game tonight. Nice goal, too. ;) You out celebrating?
Dany chuckles as he reads the message. definitely looking to keep the party going he clicks out quickly and sets the phone next to his drink on the bar, finishing off the last of it and gesturing for another. The Saturday night crowd is still holding strong despite the late hour.
He surveys the men milling around, most of them in tight jeans and sheer cotton shirts, the Phoenix heat stifling even in early March. A select few mingle in suits, like him. His phone buzzes again.
Have a great time, babe. Love you! Call me in the morning.
Dany can’t sing the praises of his boyfriend enough, he thinks as he slides the phone back into his pocket. Though now it’s time to choose his prey for the evening, Dany feels himself hardening already.
He turns in his seat to appraise the crowd once more and after another sweep of the room, he catches eyes with a man in the other corner, nursing a beer. He’d know that stance from a mile away.
“Shit,” he nearly chokes on his drink as the recognition flashes in the other man’s eyes as well. His buzz is dead instantly as Jason Spezza makes his way across the room toward Dany.
The walk over feels like an eternity and Dany turns to set his drink back on the counter, praying this is all just in his head, that the man just looks like Spez. He lifts out of his seat but Jason is at his side before he can leave.
He’s at least relieved to see that Spezza doesn’t look any more thrilled about this than he does; there is no knowing gleam in his eyes, no half-cocked grin. Just wide-eyes and a nervous sweat.
“So,” Spezza rubs his hand through his hair, hips tilting to the side as his knees lock. “What are you doing here?”
“Just checking the place out,” Dany hopes he sounds indifferent, like he hasn’t been to this bar every night he’s able when he happens to be in town.
“Yeah, uh. Me, too.” Spez finishes off the last half of his beer in remarkable speed and Dany tries not to notice. “Nothin’ special, eh?” He wipes his mouth with the back of his jacket sleeve and sets the empty bottle down. He can’t quite tell if Spez means the bar or the men in it.
Dany plays off his nervous laughter as agreement. “Nope. I was just on my way out, actually.”
“Yeah, uh, me too. See you at the hotel.”
“Yeah, see ya.” He jumps on the opportunity to leave, not even caring to make note of the fact that he doesn’t see Jason following him out; nor that Jason still hasn’t left when Dany’s cab finally arrives.
October 1st, 2003
Atlanta, GA
No one will tell him how Dan is doing; they barely tell him how he is doing. He can feel what is broken in his body, what hurts and where, the chafing of the metal around his ankle that bothers him sometimes when his foot falls asleep.
But, for the most part, they keep him sedated. The world fades in and out of focus around him as he tries to find some thought to help ground himself. When he closes his eyes, it’s all bricks and pine needles until the edges start to turn black and he is swept back under water, no more answers there than in waking.
October 13th, 2008
Ottawa, ON
Dany doesn’t go out as often anymore after the incident last season with Spezza. He’s surprised to find that he doesn’t miss it all that much, not really. And it was always harder to go out on a long home stand anyway.
Since the night in Phoenix, neither he nor Spez have spoken of the incident to one another directly, though Dany was uneasy with way Jason liked to hint at ‘indiscretions’ in Dany’s presence, his eyebrows crooked in a way that made Dany’s palms sweat and his pulse race.
Michael insisted that Dany was being unreasonable when he took anything Spez said as more than normal ribbing between teammates, but it wasn’t a secret around the locker room that their relationship had pretty much deteriorated after some unknown incident at the end of the previous regular season. Chris Phillips had tried to ask Dany about it once and he’d artfully stalled the conversation. The only good part about being swept in the first round of the playoffs was that Philly had been too preoccupied to remember to bring the falling out back up.
Preoccupied then, however, didn’t necessarily mean forgotten or abandoned, and Dany had caught more than a few long stares from Chris and Jason alike. Times like this he hated going home to an empty apartment, the messages on his answering machine a far cry from having the real Michael on hand.
He’d been spoiled over the summer, like every summer, and being back always took getting used to. But, Dany knew, he had always been pretty good at that ‘getting used to’ thing.
November 8th, 2008
Raleigh, NC
“I slept with a woman tonight,” Dany sounds incredulous even to his own ears, and still a little bit drunk, as he listens to the strange strangled noise Michael makes on the other end of the line.
“Are you ill?” Mike half-chokes, half-laughs and Dany winces at the sound.
“I had to. They were starting to notice.”
“Notice what?” Michael almost sounds hurt and it makes Dany feel even worse.
“That I never brought anyone home from the bars.”
“Well, not their bars. Or Jason’s bars,” Michael laughs again and Dany feels his blood pressure rising.
“It’s not about Spez!” He honestly regrets ever telling Michael that story. “It’s about the rest of them. They look at me, you know. With that fuckin’ stupid question on their faces like they’re just waiting to call me out on it and I’m sick of it, Mike! Fucking sick of it!”
He’s not in the mood to joke tonight. Not about this, not after what he just did.
“M’sorry. But what does fuckin’ some chick have to do with any of this?”
“To get them off my back about it!”
“They’ve never said anything to you about it, I don’t know why you think suddenly they will now!”
“Because they don’t have to! They don’t have to say anything, not with the way they act around me. ‘Specially not Spez.”
“Well fuck him! Just because he’s s a goddamned closet case doesn’t mean-”
Dany is nearly blind with rage at that. “Well so am fucking I, Christ!” Dany kicks the wastebasket clean across the room and hears the metal thunk as it collides with the dresser.
“Calm down, Dany, you know I didn’t mean it like that.”
He’s too mad to hear Michael’s pleas; mad at Jason, mad at himself. Mad at that stupid woman who’d agreed to come back here with him in the first place. He can hear Michael talking but he sounds too far away for Dany to hear the actual words.
The knock on his hotel door is enough to snap him out of his fit.
He hangs up the phone quickly without a word and sees Phillips through the peephole, scuffing his feel on the carpet.
They both look sheepish as Dany unlocks the door.
“Um. Fish said he heard ya screamin’ through the wall. Figured that uh, that you were done with yer guest.”
The words cut Dany to the core but he tries his best to play cool.
“Yeah, she cut out a while ago.” Even saying ‘she’ is embarrassing to Dany and he looks away, worries that Philly can see right through him. He steps aside to let his roommate back in, ignoring Michael calling him back. Chris seems to notice the sound of the vibrating from Dany’s pocket.
“I can come back if ya wanna take that. I was jus’ hanging out with Vermy watching a movie, s’not a big deal.”
“No, no. It’s fine, you’re fine, I was just. Yeah.”
Dany feels itchy as his phone buzzes with the missed call before he can feel the pulses signaling that Michael is calling him again. He pulls it out to switch it off, tossing it on his unmade bed. Just the sight of the rumpled sheets has his skin crawling.
“M’gonna jump in the shower real quick but, um.” Dany stops himself before he can ramble on anymore and practically trips on himself into the bathroom.
He scrubs his skin nearly raw in the shower and prays the water is loud enough to drown out his quiet crying.
January 27th, 2009
Ottawa, ON
Locker room talk is usually bawdy and crude but he’s managed to attune his brain to shut most of that out. Sometimes things catch his ears though, when it’s not something he hears often, or when it’s his own name.
He catches a whisper of ‘Dany’ on a teammate’s lips and looks up, though they all seem completely engaged in conversation and no one is looking at him to implicate themselves.
He goes back to work pulling up his socks and securing them in place.
“Faggot.”
It’s quiet, under someone’s breath, and maybe even not directed at him or related to the fact that he just heard his name. But that doesn’t stop the bubbling unease in his gut or the nervous noise he makes as his sweaty fingers try to grip his breezers but slip free.
He allows a long beat to pass before he looks up and around the room again. Spezza catches his eyes, grins unsympathetically and laughs his cackling laugh.
Everything around him rapidly begins to feel too tight. His gear, his skin, Ottawa. His whole life seems suddenly like a cage too small to contain him.
February 14th, 2009
St. Paul, MN
Philly has always known Michael as Dany’s friend from college. It’s the story they’d settled on a while ago and one that they were content to stick with while it was believable. And, if they noticed that Michael had timed his monthly road visit with Valentine’s Day, well, none of them was brave enough to mention it this time around.
It was hard to visit on the road, team events more than obligatory when they were traveling together, but Chris was good about being gone when he needed to be and Dany was able to overlook his paranoia when it came to bringing Michael around after so long of not seeing him.
“This one is new,” Michael grazes his finger over a blue swipe across Dany’s ribcage.
“Boards,” Dany smirks, letting Michael examine every inch of his bare skin, his own ritual after time apart. Michael lowers his lips to the bruise and sucks gently, causing Dany to roll his eyes back, biting his lip to stay quiet.
He’s sprawled naked on his hotel bed while Michael worries over him in tented boxers, and they’re alone on the floor, at least as far as teammates are concerned, but Dany is always cautious.
The knocking on his door seems to confirm his own prudence and Michael pulls off of him with an annoyed look.
“I’ll tell ‘im to fuck off,” Dany sighs heavily, assuming another teammate has come to try and usher him out for a night on the town.
“You better. S’our anniversary,” Michael tries to look irritated but the blush on his cheeks makes him look more aroused than anything.
“Heater? You in there?” He recognizes the coach’s voice immediately.
“Shit.” Dany jerks upright faster than he means to, nearly knocking Michael on the floor. They share a panicked look before Michael grabs for his t-shirt and jeans, ducking into the bathroom and locking the door.
“Coming,” Dany’s voice sounds strangled but the knocking stops. He grabs a robe from the closet and ties it tight around his waist. He hopes his lips don’t look too raw from kissing as he opens the door slowly.
“Hey. You busy?”
“Um, no. Not really,” he lies easily. “Something wrong?”
“Just hoping I’d be able to talk with you for a few,” Clouston brushes past Dany and sits on the mussed comforter. “We haven’t had much time to talk since I’ve been here and I thought seeing as you were still around tonight, we could catch up a little.”
Dany hopes the sag in his shoulders isn’t painfully obvious as he takes a seat beside his coach.
It’s an hour later before he’s finally able to coax Clouston out of the room, their conversation covering everything from the power play units, to Alberta, to current movie releases. Dany opens the door to the bathroom to find Michael sitting on the floor, dozing off with his head tipped against the lip of the tub.
“Hey, babe.” He gently shakes the man awake, amused smirk on his face as Michael immediately reaches for him. “Sorry about that.”
“S’okay,” his voice is slurred with sleep still as he tries to rouse himself enough to stand on his own. “Everything all right with you?”
“Yeah. Just talkin’ business,” Dany leaves his answer vague. He doesn’t need to ruin this night by adding stress to the evening.
“Y’sure?”
“Mmhmm.” Dany puts on his best seductive grin and hauls Michael to his feet, letting his bathrobe fall open. “Now, where were we?”
April 13th, 2009
Ottawa, ON
Dany sits in the locker room beside his teammates, cleaning out his locker and facing the onslaught of press. They all seem to blame him, the staff, the guys, the interviewers.
He bites his tongue and gives his best canned answer to their probing questions about the utter meltdown of a season the Senators had just produced, somehow with Dany leading the fucking way to failure.
Four hours later, the last of the cameras and recorders are ushered out the door and he’s staring down the angry faces of his teammates. It’s not even a tiny bit easier.
June 9th, 2009
Kelowna, BC
“I called them.” Dany walks in the door of the lake house and throws his bag of gear down in the foyer. He’s still dripping sweat from the game of shinny and the air-conditioning in the house feels amazing. Michael looks up from a book in his lap, his reading glasses sitting on the edge of his nose, his bare feet perched on the arm of the sofa.
“Who’s ‘them’?” He scrunches up his face and pokes out his tongue to wet his lips.
“The Senators. I called them. I told them I wanted a trade.”
Michael sits bolt upright, shutting the book loud enough to make a noise. “You what?! Dany, why?!” The reaction has Dany second guessing himself immediately. “I thought we talked about this! A thousand times! You’re just being paranoid about Spezza and!” Michael cuts himself off abruptly.
“Well, what’s done is done now. I already talked to the management and my agent and told them I’m not happy there. I want to be dealt out of Ottawa.”
He had expected Michael to be happier for him, taking something into his own hands for once.
“When did you call?”
“After the game,” he runs a hand though his sweaty hair and eyes the direction of the shower.
“And you didn’t think you ought to come home and maybe mention this shit to me first! Dany, I don’t get you! You get so fucking pissed off when things don’t go your way and yet you pull the wool over everyone’s eyes all the time! I swear half the fucking time I don’t know what you’re thinking until three months later and there’s some fallout for it.”
It hits Dany like a punch to the gut. “You always know what I’m thinking, Mike.” He doesn’t mean to sound so bewildered, but that’s one thing about Michael that Dany has never questioned.
“Not lately! You’ve gotten so goddamned obsessed with thinking they’re out to get you ‘cause you’re gay or some other invented reason, it’s turned you into a completely suspicious person!”
“It’s true though! I know Spez told them! Clouston has had it in for me since the day he caught you leaving my hotel room, cutting my minutes nearly in half since then, and rest of the guys, they fucking laugh when they see you visiting me, you know that!”
“They don’t, Dany. They don’t do that; it’s all in your head!”
“How could you possibly even know that?! Of course they don’t do it in front of you.” Even if Dany is wrong, Michael wouldn’t have any way of proving what he says is true either; he’s never been there to see it.
“They’re all going to accuse you of just jumping ship now, you realize that right? You’re pissed that you’re their scapegoat, or that you feel like you are, and you’ve just gone and made this a fucking thousand times worse for yourself! You better pray the team doesn’t find out.”
“I thought you’d be on my side!”
“Dany, I’m always on your side, but sometimes I don’t think you want me there! If you did, you would have discussed this with me first!”
He doesn’t have a good answer for that and the last bit of his bravado starts to crumble.
“Do you really think I’m lying about them?”
“I don’t think that you think you’re lying, but honestly, I don’t know.”
“I’m miserable there. I have been since, God, since I can remember.”
“I know.”
“Then why aren’t you at least a little bit happy for me that I’m trying to get myself out of it.”
“Because you did it without me. Not even just that, you never even told me that you were considering it as an option.”
“But it has nothing to do with you!”
The words are out of him in a rush and the hurt look on Michael’s face is instantaneous. He takes off his glasses and sets them on the coffee table beside his book, toes curling into the carpet.
“D’you really think that’s true? That where you live and work has absolutely nothing to do with me?” He’s eerily calm but the watery gleam in his eyes has Dany backpedaling quickly.
“Mike, fuck. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like-”
“But it’s what you said! It’s how you’re always acting. I swear you don’t even think of me as being a part of your life. Five years we’ve been together and I don’t even get the consideration you’d give a goddamned housecat when it comes to things like this.
“I know why you left Atlanta, I supported you on that. I was so fucking happy that you got what you wanted, and Christ, I would have supported you on this, too because I know you’re miserable and that they treat you like shit.”
Michael’s voice breaks on his last word and he hides his face in his hands.
Dany has no idea how this went from zero to sixty, except that he does, because it was his fault.
“How long have you been thinking about this?” Michael squeaks.
Dany wants to lie, he honestly doesn’t know how the truth could fix this because he knows what Michael wants him to say. He wants him to say that it was on a whim; he’d woken up that morning and just decided to get out.
“Since March.”
“Do you even love me anymore?” The subject changes unexpectedly and Dany isn’t even sure he heard right.
He’s across the room in three strides, ignoring the fact that he’s sweating all over the sofa.
“I love you, Michael. I fucking love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone. More than fucking hockey, you know that.”
“I don’t know that.”
“If I didn’t love you, I wouldn’t even be trying to leave Ottawa. I hate how they act when they see you, even Philly has been a little bitch about giving up the room and I just. I never should have been so goddamned careless in the first place.”
“You’d rather me just stay away completely then?”
“No! Fuck, Mike, no. I’m leaving because I want you around. I’m just trying to protect you from them.”
“Protecting me from them? Fuck off, Dany, you’re hiding me from them. And I know why you do it, I’m not saying I don’t understand, but just cut the self-righteous bullshit, all right? It is what it is. You’re scared.”
“Of course I am, Mike! This isn’t easy, you know! There’s a fucking reason that not a single NHLer has come out. The fact that you even come around at all is a huge thing.”
“They think I’m your cousin or your college buddy, whatever you tell them!”
“They used to. They don’t believe that any more.”
“So what, so you go to a brand new city and you start over again more carefully? Hide me better?”
And like that, Dany thinks he finally gets it. Michael blinks back tears, his icy blue eyes even brighter as he struggles not to cry.
“I don’t want to leave Ottawa because they know about you, Michael. I want to leave Ottawa because of how they treat us now that they know about you. I’m getting too old to lie.”
“You’re not old,” Michael protests, tiredly.
“In hockey years, I’m getting there.” They both laughs despite themsevles. “Just, I don’t want to do this shuffle forever, spending our anniversary hiding you in bathrooms because the coach wants to bitch at me, that’s stupid. I just want to start over; but I’m not trying to do it without you.”
Michael leans into him, resting his head on his shoulder and the tension of the argument starts to drain. He drapes his arm around the man and pulls him closer.
“I should have told you, you’re right. M’sorry that I didn’t. I was afraid you’d try to talk me out of it.”
“I want you to be happy.”
“We will be.” Dany knows it’s true.
September 30th, 2003
Atlanta, GA
Every time he wakes up, Dany has to re-remember. The grogginess pulls him back into something that he’s starting to think of as his own survival mode, though he hardly feels better for it.
The second thing he does when he wakes up is search the room for his mother. He curses the policewoman in the corner whose presence has tricked him more than a few times. They make eye contact and Dany looks away.
She had woken him up early, or maybe late, the night before. Dany doesn’t know what day it is anymore, if time is even moving.
She had woken him up to show him pictures of his car, what was left of it; another officer was lingering behind her but he had stepped up and shackled Dany’s ankle to the hospital bed. The woman had all but spat at him when she demanded his version of the events and Dany’s ears were ringing as he tried to piece anything together. She seemed annoyed when he couldn’t be more than just vague.
Then, she’d photographed him, a booking photo; though his hospital gown was hanging halfway off, too small for his body, and his face, he was sure, was still bloody.
She was not his mother, but every time he woke, Dany hoped maybe she would be there in the officer’s place.
Another presence in the room has his vision spinning to focus on the sad looking man that he recognizes as important, but even that instant familiarity in the sea of police and doctors and nurses is enough to be comforting and he’s crying before he can help himself.
“Dany?”
One of the owners, Dany places him as he gets closer, but the man’s eyes are enough to show that he’s not here on business.
“How’s Dan?” He doesn’t mean to sound so small, but it’s hard to talk through the tears and every little sob makes tendrils of fire shoot through his jaw, despite the pain medication dripping steadily into his body.
“He’s pretty banged up. I don’t really know his condition though. Son, are your parents here?”
“I-no. I don’t think. Maybe on the plane still.” Dany is still fairly certain they’re coming. He won’t let himself think otherwise yet, but it’s been so long since he’s seen them. When the man reaches to shake his hand, they collapse together in a weak half-hug that has Dany’s face crushed up against the man’s chest and it hurts worse even that the tears, but he wants this closeness enough to ignore that.
“I don’t remember what happened,” he offers it up weakly, though the question he’s answering was never asked. “I just know Dan is hurt.”
That’s all anyone will tell him, but he’d seen the blood on the pavement in the photos. He’d seen the car.
The man stays with him for a few hours and they talk hockey, half-heartedly. Dany knows he’s not conscious for much of the visit; every time his eyes close it feels like days before he opens them again, every blink taking a wedge of time off the clock.
When he blinks again, it is morning. He’s alone.
July 3rd, 2009
Kelowna, BC
For the last two weeks, when he dreams about the accident, all foggy scenes and earthy smells, it’s been Michael in the car beside him, bracing on the dash.
The face is different, but the uncertainty is all the same. Sometimes Dany wishes he could stand on the rooftops and scream his remorse until his throat bleeds. No one will ever be able to see so much of him to know how he chooses to suffer.
The harshest punishment he imposes on himself is that he never allows himself to imagine it ended differently.
August 1st, 2009
Kelowna, BC
“Are we too old for this?” Michael startles Dany when he walks into the bathroom where Dany is brushing his teeth.
“Jesus, Mike! Warn a guy,” he speaks around the mouthful of toothpaste before spitting impatiently.
“But, I mean, are we?”
“Too old for what?” His spit still feels thick and Dany rinses his mouth again before turning to cock his hip, hoping his body language conveys his displeasure with the fact his heart is still racing from the scare.
“Well, maybe not too old, but just, too… I don’t know. Too something.”
“For. What?” He speaks slowly but with great annoyance.
“This long distance thing.” Michael’s voice softens. “I mean, you’re about to start your new season, maybe in Ottawa, maybe god-knows-where, and Dany. Aren’t you tired of it?”
“Of hockey?” He suddenly feels like this conversation is too serious to be having in his pajamas and Dany tugs on the hem of the ratty grey t-shirt, fingers one of the holes where the threads have pulled loose.
“No! Of this,” he gesticulates back and forth between the two of them. “These amazing summers of just us and. How it feels when it’s over. I fucking hate when it’s over.”
Dany hates it, too. He does. Especially now, this year. Not knowing how far he’s going to be, if he’ll be anywhere new at all. If he’ll have to go back to that locker room with those guys that he wants to like, that he pretends to get along with, who all just pretend to get along with him. Though, with the trade request ending up the talk of the town, he’s not sure they’ll even be in the mood for pretending much longer.
He’d turned down Edmonton, but at least had thought enough to talk it through with Michael first this time. He explained carefully that he wanted to end up on a winning team and it had nothing to do with not wanting to move even closer to Kelowna. But now, with the way he was being crucified, even the Oilers were starting to seem like a good idea.
“I told you my not wanting to go to Edmonton had nothing to do with you,” Dany begins delicately.
“I’m not talking about Edmonton. I’m not even talking about Kelowna,” he waves his arms around.
“What do you mean then?”
“I don’t know. Maybe just, something more permanent than July and August.”
Dany doesn’t answer as his mind tries to wrap around what Michael is hinting at. He would love to be able to see Michael year-round, but it was risky. Ottawa had proven that far and away, and Michael’s teaching job was here. Though, it wasn’t like Dany hadn’t considered the idea before.
“You want to live with me?” He hopes his guess is on target.
“I don’t know.”
“You keep saying that you don’t know, but it sounds like you have an idea about something.” He’s getting impatient.
“Yeah, maybe. It was just a thought I had, okay? Forget I brought it up.”
Dany doesn’t want to forget, though. The thought of being able to spend more time with Michael and less time alone had been tantalizing him for the last year and half and he knew it had nothing to do with needing a companion. The number of times he’d been out on roadtrips this past season had dwindled down to nearly single digits, and while they never really talked about concrete numbers, Dany was fairly certain that Michael hadn’t been out with anyone else for a while, either. Even during the season.
Moving in together had seemed like a feasible idea once Dany realized that fact.
“You know, I offered it once. If I recall, you turned me down.”
“You offered me your vacant house,” Michael picks at a hangnail.
“It would have been our house.” It’s barely a whisper. “If you’d said yes.”
“I should have.”
Dany leans in the doorframe and looks down at their bare feet. Another end to another summer. Their knees nearly touch as Michael moves a step closer, both of them all bronzed skin.
“I love you, you know,” he wraps his fingers around Michael’s wrist and pulls him into a hug.
“I know. You, too.”
“You love you, too?” Michael snorts at Dany’s joke but buries his nose in the soft cotton of his shirt anyhow, nuzzling into the valley between his muscles.
“No, you ass. I love you.”
“We’ll figure out a way to make it work. No matter what ends up happening.” That’s something Dany isn’t willing to compromise.
September 12, 2009
Kelowna, BC
Dany’s bags are packed already for the trip back to training camp in Ottawa. He’s been nauseated for days thinking about having to back there, how much worse it will be after the shit storm of media over the summer.
He has felt like a man walking to the gallows for most of the last week and a half and every time his phone rings he has to catch himself from being too hopeful.
Though, finally, he gets the call he’s been waiting for.
Dany is sure he’s scared the living hell out of Michael the way he comes tearing into the bedroom calling his name. Michael drops the neatly-folded pile of laundry and it topples across the bed. He crosses his arms over his chest.
“What the hell, Dany?”
“I got it!” He grabs for Michael’s shoulders and shakes him. The weight of the world feels like it’s been removed from his back and Dany can finally catch his breath.
“The trade?” The quirk of a smile on Michael’s lips is the most beautiful thing he’s seen in ages and Dany can’t help but kiss him. “I’m guessing yes,” Michael gasps when Dany pulls back.
“To San Jose. California!”
“West coast?!” Michael seems just as excited by this news and Dany kisses him again. “That’s such a short plane ride! No time change! And fuck, you look damned good in shorts.”
Dany’s laugh reverberates through his entire body.
“I’m so happy for you, love.” Michael has to stand on his tiptoes to reach around Dany’s neck, and once he’s there, he’s literally hanging from him. “I’ll still miss the hell out of you, but it’s so much closer. And so close to San Francisco, too! No doubt you’ll be busy!”
Michael pulls back enough to wink as he laughs, settling back down to his own two feet, his arms still draped loosely around Dany’s waist.
“Probably not.” Dany bites his lip, something serious stirring in his gut.
“Oh, come on, you aren’t that old, Heater! You have to at least visit the Castro.”
“I want you to come with me.” Dany blurts it out.
“Well, obviously, when I’m in town.” Michael rolls his eyes as though Dany is being the most oblivious person in the world.
“No. Michael. I want you to come with me. To San Jose. I want you to move with me.”
Michael stammers a bit like he’s trying to wrap his head around Dany’s suggestion. “T-to my own place?”
“No. One place. Ours. Just like the summer house. Except all the time.”
“I-I don’t know if I can get another job down there before-I mean the school year just started and-.”
“So? Michael, fuck it! We’ve wanted to do this, we both hate the distance. And I love you. If you can’t find a teaching job right away, who cares? You have time to look, we can afford for you to take the time.”
Michael regards him with such a curious look of spontaneity, one that Dany hasn’t seen on his face more than twice since the night they met in Vancouver.
“All right.”
“All right?”
“Yes, Dany. I’ll go with you.” He says it with a look of complete disbelief, but his grin doesn’t lie. With a resolute tug, the two of them collapse back into the mussed pile of forgotten laundry, all limbs and smiles and love.
September 29th, 2003
Atlanta, GA
They pull up to the red light at the Lenox, Paces Ferry intersection and Dany revs the engine, laughing.
“I’m full as fuck,” he leans back in the driver’s seat, rubbing his stomach. Dan groans in agreement.
“Good fuckin’ burgers though.” Dan tilts his head to the side until his neck pops and sighs in relief. “‘M achy as shit and the season hasn’t even started yet. S’gonna be a long-ass year.”
“Oh, quit bitchin’, old man,” Dany scoffs and chuckles, but his own body has been feeling that same throbbing soreness that reminds him of hockey. He couldn’t be happier with it.
Dany hates how long this light is and starts drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. Dan turns up the volume on the radio and starts belting out along with the music.
“Thoughts arrive like butterflies! Oh he don't know, so he chases them away!” Dany slaps at Dan from the driver’s seat but he keeps singing. “Someday yet! He'll begin his life again!”
“You’re a fuckin’ shit singer, too,” Dany swipes at him again but Dan only laughs in response.
“You just don’t know talent when it’s sittin’ right next to ya!” Dan punches him in the arm and the car lurches forward into the intersection. Dany grabs the wheel tight and shoots Dan a look.
“Hey, watch it, you dick!” But try as he might, Dany can’t keep the amusement from his voice.
“Maybe keep yer foot on the brake then, eh?”
“No time fer brakes if were gonna beat Kovy home.”
The light changes and the two catch each other’s eyes. Dany winks and guns the engine, flying down the road toward his house. Their house.
“Kneelin'! Duh duh dum-dum dah dum doesn't know to read!” Dan starts singing again.
“Ya don’t even know the fuckin’ words, Dan! Christ!” He tips his head back and laughs, fingers curling around the steering wheel, gliding along the turns.
“Something! Something-something halls of shame!”
“Yer the one that’s fucking shameful, I tell ya.” Dany brushes a curl out of his eyes before returning the rude gesture Dan throws his way.
“S’only shameful that we’re not home yet, Heater! You know Kovy’s probably already passed out in bed.”
“Probably is, fuckin’ maniac,” Dany laughs as he taps the brake around the curve.
“Even flow! Thoughts arrive like butterflies!”
Dany pushes harder on the gas out of a slight turn into the straightaway, watching the rows of shrubs bleed into a streak of dark green. He yawns despite the din of the music; he can’t wait to get home. Dan starts banging away on the dash like a drum set, and Dany laughs at the realization that his rhythm as terrible as his voice.
“Oh, he don't know! So he chases them away!”
The flash of silver in the corner of his eye is enough and Dany turns. The car backing out of driveway in front of him catches both of them entirely by surprise and he only has time to register taillights before Dan is shouting his name.
“Shit!”
Someday yet he'll begin his life again. Whispering hands, carry him away.
Dany swerves to left, into the oncoming lane. He can feel his stomach twisting as they move. As the back wheels skid out wider than the front, he knows he’s not in control anymore. Dany grips the wheel as hard as he can, trying to get back into the right lane. In his periphery he can see Dan bracing himself on the dash.
The car fishtails sideways until the tires finally catch the traction of the road, but as they do, the steering wheel spins out of Dany’s hands. Like a slide into the boards, position the right way, tighten your muscles, ride it out. And pray.
He slams his foot down to the floor and realizes too late that he never moved over to the brakes.
They bounce as the car hits the curb. He doesn’t even have time to shout before everything is suddenly nothing but black.
September 19th, 2009
San Jose, CA
He wakes up in his bed, Michael curled up beside him. The mental chiding is quick and instinctive; their bed. Their first bed that isn’t temporary, ‘in the meantime’, between seasons or school years or across borders or oceans. Michael sighs in his sleep, twisting up in the sheets closer to Dany’s body.
It’s easy to breathe in the warm bedroom air and despite the fact that he’s up before the sun, Dany feels awake. Ten more days; he brushes a hand through his short hair and scratches the back of his neck.
The countdown is always in the back of his mind, a nervous tick that his brain can’t turn off.
Maybe this is not his new beginning, and, for what it’s worth, Dany is rather sure that it isn’t. But this is new, this ease in his own skin, this patience with himself. He doesn’t feel better; Dany is familiar with that dangerous type of thinking. He doesn’t feel more self-assured, and certainly not whole. But he does feel different.
And for today, for now, that is something.
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