Keep Me Close- Chapter XIV
Chapter I | Chapter II | Chapter III | Chapter IV | Chapter V | Chapter VI | Chapter VII | Chapter VIII | Chapter IX | Chapter X | Chapter XI | Chapter XII | Chapter XIII
Disclaimer: I actually hope this didn’t actually happen… So that would be a no.
Chapter XIV
Joe was confused when he saw both of Evgeni’s crutches lying on the ground.
Curiosity fueling him, Joe sat up noiselessly from the couch, and slunk over to the hallway to the rest of his apartment. Thousands of thoughts flew rampant through Joe’s mind, and he did not know which thought to focus on the most. So he chose to stare dumbly at the crack of light beneath the bathroom door.
It seemed like an eternity before running water was heard being turned on then off, the twist of the door handle and the flick of the light. Evgeni emerged from the bathroom, his head bowed as he fixed the bottom of his large sweatshirt.
If thoughts eluded Joe before, they all died at that moment. Joe stared, wide-eyed and lips parted, as Evgeni did not even so much as limp down the hall. Just hours ago the man was complaining about having to use his crutches for few days before he could walk on his own, let alone play hockey.
Finally coherent thoughts crashed into Joe like a waterfall when Evgeni finally lifted his head and jumped back in shock. They just stared at each other, both at a loss for words.
-----
Everything of the moment hit Joe then, the rush of emotions deafening in his ears. What should he feel? What did he not feel? Joe’s world was so confusing.
Betrayal?
Relief?
Excitement?
No one emotion settled calmly in his mind as he stared at the man before him. The whirl of everything, explaining nothing, made Joe dizzy. His head clouded and he stumbled to the side. Joe just barely caught himself with an arm against the wall.
And another hand reached out and held on tightly to his bicep.
Joe turned his wide eyes to the pale fingers, following the arm up the long neck, finally locking eyes on Evgeni’s face. The face had the word ‘busted’ written all over it.
The skin contact sent heat and shivers through Joe’s body and he yanked his arm back, Evgeni’s grip loosening in compliance. The touch lingered, even when Evgeni backed up a step, and Joe brought a hand to rub it away.
Its impression was left branded on his flesh.
Words finally came to Joe, and he opened his mouth to whisper, to laugh, to shout, to say something, but all that came out was “W-what?”
Evgeni jumped forward again as Joe stared in a haze. He brought his face even with Joe’s, and the cold palms were suddenly cupping his jaw. Grey eyes searched deeply, and the burn infested under his skin again, the piercing eyes igniting a fire within him. The flames licking at his insides became too intense, and Joe had to look away.
Evgeni released his face, but neither man moved. Staring into the hardwood floor, Joe croaked out “Why?” He looked back, ignoring the twinge crawling over his skin when the calculating gaze was roaming over his face.
“I-I whanted to tell you-” Evgeni began meekly, but was interrupted from a gruff noise from the back of Joe’s throat.
“Wait, what? How long…” Joe protested, but then stopped himself to hold his heavy head in his hand. He began more slowly. “Wanted to tell me? What are you talking about? What’s happening?” The questions rolled off Joe’s tongue with ease, his eyes flickering over Evgeni’s pallid expression, as it grew more withdrawn.
Evgeni licked his lips, his eyes diverted to the ground. “I, um, whell…” His flustered appearance was made of a red face, a bit bottom lip, and twisting, nervous hands.
“What’s going on?” Joe interjected, throwing up his arms with impatience.
A short glare was sent from Joe before Evgeni began again, his words slow and cautious. “I-I whould have told you… if… if you were anyone else. I-I guess-“
“How long has this been going on?” Joe asked; his voice was scolding and disappointed.
Evgeni growled in frustration, and buried his fist into the plane of the wall. “Do you want me to tell you?” A defeated look flashed across his eyes before he blinked it away.
“I’d like to know what you’re doing,” Joe replied, his rapid emotions melting away until only confusion pulsed in his head, taking over his being and pressuring him to find out more.
“Are you ghoing to let me tell you?” Evgeni snapped, looking to Joe for a second, before his eyes flashed and he looked away again. Joe wanted to ask more, but he remained quiet, if not for Evgeni, then at least for his pounding head.
Nodding reluctantly, Joe placed his hand on the wall again to steady himself. His legs gave way under his weight, and he slid to the floor, his shoulder pressed into up against the beige paint. Once his knee hit the ground, Joe’s body collapsed into an exhausted heap.
Evgeni sunk down to his level, both legs carrying his weight just fine.
“Ray told me until… um… Dhecember?”
“That’s what you told me he said,” Joe sniffed, bitterness laced in his voice.
Evgeni winced and nodded in agreement. “R-right… Iya did say that…”
The length between his pauses grew, but Joe’s mind was moving so fast, he could barely keep up with the words as they were. Evgeni began mumbling again, and Joe shook his stuffy head.
“Bhut I’ve been feeling… better, and… and I’ve walked without crutches before! I’ve bheen just fine,” he continued, the words hesitant and unconvincing.
Thinking hard on what Evgeni just informed him, Joe slouched his shoulders and rolled his head against the wall. “You’ve done this before?” Evgeni nodded, catching his bottom lip between his teeth. “But then why… why didn’t you tell me?”
Once said, Joe knew that was what had hurt him the most. Not the fact that his friend had kept this from the team, but rather that Evgeni had kept this from him.
Evgeni’s head snapped back around, and he placed a cautious hand on Joe’s left shoulder. Joe did not shy away from the touch this time, even though the fire rippled under Evgeni’s fingers.
“Whell… this is why I didn’t tell you.” Joe raised a brow and cocked his head away from the wall as Evgeni’s grip slackened. “I… I didn’t whant you to worry. And I didn’t whant you to stop me. I… Iya couldn’t have tried this with you.” He swallowed and glanced shamefully away once more. “I’m sorry.” Evgeni's head tipped away from Joe. "You worry so much. Abhout me," he finished. "I didn't do it on purpose," his excuses died on his tongue.
Joe sighed and fixed his eyes onto the ceiling. He was always tired; after dedicating his life to hockey, he had gotten used to the fact that a restful day was hard to come by. He was tired of fighting, tired of the confusion, and tired of the despondent glances Evgeni made to the ground when he thought Joe was not looking. Joe could handle tired, but now he was utterly exhausted.
“I just wish you would have told me,” Joe whispered, his voice hanging heavily in the air.
The hold on his shoulder tightened as he said this, but relaxed quickly afterward. “Which is why I couldn’t tell you… I nheeded to walk. You would have stopped me if you saw…”
“No I wouldn’t,” Joe mumbled halfheartedly.
Evgeni raised a skeptical brow and leaned his head into the wall. He massaged his long fingers into the tight muscle near Joe’s neck while the burn in his skin raged into a wild inferno.
“Dhuring the father’s trip… I couldn’t whalk on the crutches anymore… I don’t need them,” he stated firmly, his eyes a grey slate.
Joe winced as Evgeni’s kneading became more pronounced with each word he spoke. “Ah, then why don’t you?” he asked softly, his voice barely louder than the hum of the heater.
The fingers stopped at Joe’s question and Evgeni furrowed his brow. “Why don’t I what?”
“Why don't you," Joe felt like his words were strangling him and took a breath to clear his mind and throat. "Why do you still have the crutches?” He elaborated, his lips forming the words carefully.
“Ah… Ray said I had to-”
“And here you are, obviously not using them.”
“I-I feel better though.”
“Then tell the coach, Yevi,” Joe stressed as he lifted a heavy hand to lie over his eyes. He unfolded his legs out from under his body and stretched them until his feet hit the other side of the hallway. Both of his knees cracked and the sickening sound echoed in the empty space until it reached Joe’s ears.
“I-!” Evgeni began to protest, but then he snapped his mouth shut to end what he had wanted to say.
The hand on Joe’s shoulder fell away limply, and Evgeni hung his head, effectively obstructing Joe from seeing the whirlpool of emotions in his eyes. “I’ll tell McLellan tomorrow,” he muttered, his voice drowned out by the heater.
-----
As promised, the next day Evgeni told the coach that he was ready to play with the team again. He practiced with the others that very morning. The other Sharks gladly welcomed their starting goaltender back with smiles and cheery faces, and the mask Evgeni put on to humor them did not fool Joe in the slightest.
When Joe asked again why Evgeni did not confide in him, Evgeni’s simple reply was that he would have disapproved. Joe was a little stung by the comment, but it hurt less when he accepted that Evgeni was right. He would have objected; insisting instead that Evgeni listen to every word the trainer told him about his leg and its health.
-----
Two days later, Evgeni was dressed in the brand new black jersey. Joe smiled to his friend, glad to see him in the familiar environment, even if those moments of passing the man in the backup seat were far and few between. The sharks won, 7-2. It must have been the third jersey. Must have been the silky black threads holding the team together.
-----
Another two days and Evgeni joined the team in wearing the black jersey again, although this time when Joe sent him a smile, the cage of his mask prevented Joe from seeing if the gesture was returned.
Evgeni stopped twenty-six shots and Joe scored the goal in overtime for a 3-2 win against the Chicago Blackhawks.
Afterwards, each Shark grinned broadly as he told the starting goaltender how much he has been missed as the end of the game. Joe did not say a thing; he was afraid that if he was to open his mouth, he might say something embarrassing, for the thrum of ecstasy churning inside of him too unstable for him to control.
-----
On the flight to Dallas, the team was eerily quiet. It may not have been a playoff match, but they were returning to the city that had cut their last season short. Sour feelings remained, even if the players denied it. Of all of the eighty-two games in the season, this game was played with a little more passion. This was the game circled on the calendar.
As Joe sat in the Star’s visiting team locker room, he watched Evgeni hold his head in his hands and refuse to look up. The scene would have been troubling on normal circumstances, but Joe knew that this was his rematch against Dallas. It was something that he could not share with the team, and Joe would be lying if he said that he did not feel the same way before.
Before Joe and Evgeni left the locker room, Joe grabbed the deathly pale man by the arm and pulled him into a tight hug. “I’m gonna win this one for you, to make up for last time when you deserved it the most.” The embrace was short, but the message was clear.
-----
The first period ended with San Jose leading 3-1, Joe adding an assist on Dan’s first goal of the game.
The second period gave the Sharks two more tallies, and Joe managed another assist on a defenseman’s goal.
The final score came at 6-2 and the majority of the American Airlines’ Center left the building much less satisfied than the last time they watched the team in teal crumble after four overtimes.
The Sharks stayed calm and humble on the ice, but as soon as they entered the locker room, shouts and whoops burst from the players. Beaming faces, slaps on the backs, and laughter punctuated the conversations that filled the room. The merriment was more intoxicating than the celebratory beers that would be had later that night.
After a few minutes of talking with Patrick, Joe pivoted around on his spot to scan the room. His face-hurting, cheek-stretching grin faded when he could not find Evgeni anywhere.
Devin passed by shirtless, following a blond reporter, and Joe could already see where that was going. With a snort and a roll of his eyes, Joe pulled on his jacket. He left the excitement of his teammates to find the one person he wanted to truly enjoy the win with.
-----
A gust of wind chilled Joe to the bones and he pulled his jacket tighter to his body. Dallas’ bright lights shone from every direction, and its people filled the sidewalks. Very few glares were sent in Joe’s direction, as most people he pushed past were stumbling on wobbly legs, leading them to the next bar.
Joe checked his phone again, tapping the screen with his calloused thumb, and huffing when he saw his only text was from Devin saying that Dallas reporters snore too loudly. He had called Evgeni five times, and left two messages, then decided that it would be best to wait for Evgeni to call back on his own.
But the waiting was killing him.
At first, the disappearance was unfortunate; however, considering who it was, it was not a rare occurrence. But each time Joe called, the sickening dread grew heavier in his stomach when the answering machine picked up.
He took to scouring the streets, but the city was so large, and Evgeni was just one of a million people in Dallas.
Joe entered a less crowded area of the city, and he sighed in relief. The packed dance clubs and high-end stores thinned, until the last flashy building was blocks behind him.
Joe removed his phone from his pocket again only to stuff it back into his jacket seconds later. He ran his jittery fingers through wavy hair, and then tapped them on his scruffy chin. He kept his other hand stuffed in his pocket, securely wrapped around his phone.
Eyeing a tattooed man with a buzzed head and excessive piercings wearily, Joe forced his strides to be longer and swifter. The buildings became more ill-kept, and as he passed the dark holes between the structures, Joe could feel eyes following him. No cars passed by him now, and no sign of friendly life, but he was confident in his tall stature as an imposing front, so he kept walking.
A wavering moan leaked from one of the alleyways and a dirty hand emerged from the darkness, grabbing a handful of Joe’s jacket. The hardened hockey player yelped and tugged his clothing back, stepping away from the wall of stone and toward the poorly lit street.
Mindful to stay close to the streetlights, Joe hid the fact that he was hanging his head in fear by pulling out his phone and staring at the ‘no new messages’ on his glowing screen. His head was yelling at him to turn around, to return to the bright, flashing lights of society. The rapid beat in his chest made his temples pulse in time, and a weight lagged down every muscle in his body.
Fear sank its fangs into Joe, and he succumbed to it. And yet his legs continued walking forward.
He did not want to be here, in the dirty slums of the city, where the shadows moved and everything watched him with hungry eyes. The pull of pure beastial instinct kept him going, his rational state of mind lying dormant until it was needed.
The street light a few paces in front of Joe wavered, and when he stepped under it, the beacon died. Gulping down a shout, the man quickly stepped into the area of the next light. He stood still for a moment, allowing the artificial rays to sink into his body before he continued his mindless walking.
A few strides more, and Joe could hear scuffling from another looming alleyway. A pained cry broke the silence and Joe bit his tongue as he forced himself forward, albeit slower. Another cry erupted from the shadows, and Joe stopped just before the alley’s opening, squeezing his eyes shut to block out the evil intent that radiated in the air.
The buildings became the jaws of a carnivorous beast, and the alley its wide mouth, leading to the abyss of its stomach. Trapped in its teeth was another, calling for help with its last dying breaths.
There was a loud crash and the whimpering creature became silent.
“Come back for more, faggot?” a voice boomed, and Joe felt his insides curl in fear and disappointment in himself for being unable to move.
Haggard breathing was the angry man’s only answer, before a muted thud spurred surprised hacking and coughing.
“What was that, faggot? I didn’t hear you!”
“N-no…” a small voice replied, and Joe’s heart broke at the pathetic sound.
“Fuck!” Another thud and a surprised choke reached Joe’s ears. “I’m gonna make you learn your lesson, bitch!” More scuffling was heard, and then one of the men fell to the ground, losing his breath as he did so. “You won’t run away this time. You can't."
Glued to the spot in horror, Joe remained petrified for himself and for the other man. He placed a trembling hand on a lamppost to steady himself when the noises became more violent.
There was a smack of lips parting and a wet slap as they attached themselves sloppily to skin. A hiss of a zipper opening made Joe clench his eyes tighter together.
“S-STOP!” the man sobbed before his cry was muffed out.
And Joe could not stand listening anymore. His legs unfroze and he bolted into the darkness blindly.
A hunched figure of a man sat straddling the lean midsection of another, the heaving back of the one on top facing Joe. His hand was behind him, clawing at the sides of the struggling man’s jeans, forcing them off the sharp hips. His other hand was in front of him, pinning thin wrists under his larger weight.
Quiet sobs escaped the defenseless man when the hand ended its tugging at his jeans and slipped into the front of his underwear. His trembling legs stopped fighting.
He gurgled something in a sob before he fell silent.
“J-Joe…”
Eyes widening at the call of his name, Joe swore time stopped at that moment. He knew that voice.
His brain recognized it as familiar before he recognized it at as a who. But when it did, all time sped up.
The man atop Evgeni chuckled into the pale neck from where it was latched. “Shut the fuck up and enjoy it.”
And then Joe saw himself boxing the man in the ear.
The figure landed to the side in a heap, and his hands were ripped away from Evgeni’s pants when he fell. A feral growl tore from between the assailant’s bared teeth as he whipped his head around from his fallen position. Joe took in the angular features and the sharp, dirty blond hair of the man with disbelief. He knew that man too. Joe stared, dumbstruck. He played hockey against that man hours ago.
With a snarl, Joe delivered an uppercut to Sean Avery right in the jaw.
The man’s eyes rolled in the back of his head and he slumped to the ground, unconscious. Joe was shaking with anger and from the sob that wracked his body. His chest burned, and it was not the burn he felt when Evgeni’s fingers touched his skin. This burn in his chest hurt, and all he wanted to do was claw his fingers into the pain to scratch at the raw feeling it left there.
Instead he whipped his head back to Evgeni, and tears streamed down his face when he remembered everything.
-----
Evgeni emerged from the bathroom, his head bowed as he fixed the bottom of his large sweatshirt. He did not even so much as limp down the hall.
--
Joe entered the locker room first with a smile so large it hurt his cheeks, only to find Jay Woodcroft there by himself to pat them on the back.
--
Evgeni lay there on the ice, his face buried in his arms and his legs bent at a strange angle.
--
Jonathon began to whisper again, “Really though, their captain’s out, but they’ve got Sean Avery this year.”
A loud clatter near Evgeni made Joe swivel around.
His complexion was a sickly white, and he appeared to be shaken up as he bent down to retrieve the skate that he had fallen from his hands. Joe sent Evgeni a quizzical glance, which he shied away from, instead choosing to place the skate in his lap and clutch it tightly until his knuckles turned as pale as his face.
--
“Ya mean at the time.”
“Huh?” Evgeni finally looked back up, his once wild eyes grey again.
“You mean it wasn’t a big deal at the time, right?”
Evgeni just stared back with confusion etched into his features. A moment passed and the question dawned on him. His eyes widened and he nodded his head vigorously.
--
“I-I haven’t even seen him smile in… f-forever!”
“That’s not true-”
A scoff cut into what Joe was going to say. “Oh, yeah, b-but t-that’s when he’s with you.” Devin inched closer and Joe shrank into his corner, soon stuck between the young man and the hard door of the cab. “S-something’s wrong. E-everyone sees it… w-why won’t you?”
--
“Who… who have you become?”
Evgeni shook his head and rested it on his hand, gazing down at the wooden counter top. “I-Iya dhon’t know… a-a stranger Iya ghuess.”
--
“Is there something wrong?” Joe whispered as he turned to Evgeni.
“… Nhothing that’s fhixable,” he whispered back meekly.
--
“Why the fuhck did you tahke my clothes off?" Evgeni snarled through gritted teeth, a hateful glint in his stormy eyes.
--
“If not McLellan, then what’s up?” Joe questioned, truly concerned.
Evgeni shook his head vigorously. “Iya cahn’t tehll you… Iya wouldn’t know what to say.”
-----
His thoughts were held together by a string, and each connected to this moment. He kept his watery gaze locked on the man he never quite understood, and realized that Evgeni was laying there, as easy to read as a book. The shield was stripped away, his protective wall pulverized into dust.
There Evgeni was, cold and broken on the dirty ground. The mysterious disappearances, the nervous glances, the secret meaning to his words, all became so obvious.
The simplicity of the man was overwhelming, and Joe fell to his knees by Evgeni’s side.
-----
to be continued...
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Now you may may say that "Hey, Avery could not have done this last year after the Dallas game because 1) he was not on the Stars last year, and 2) his team (Rangers) got knocked out the very same day!"
But I have done my homework, my fair readers. The Rangers/Penguins game started at 2 EST and ended roughly 5 EST. The Sharks/Stars game stared at 7:30 central, and ended around 1 in the morning. I have planned the planes trips and driving and I have come to a conclusion that it would be possible. But let's hope that it never happened, yes? And everything shall be explained in time.
Now that this is over with, who was expecting that??? Review, I'd like to read your views/complaints/shocked ramblings.
Disclaimer: I actually hope this didn’t actually happen… So that would be a no.
Chapter XIV
Joe was confused when he saw both of Evgeni’s crutches lying on the ground.
Curiosity fueling him, Joe sat up noiselessly from the couch, and slunk over to the hallway to the rest of his apartment. Thousands of thoughts flew rampant through Joe’s mind, and he did not know which thought to focus on the most. So he chose to stare dumbly at the crack of light beneath the bathroom door.
It seemed like an eternity before running water was heard being turned on then off, the twist of the door handle and the flick of the light. Evgeni emerged from the bathroom, his head bowed as he fixed the bottom of his large sweatshirt.
If thoughts eluded Joe before, they all died at that moment. Joe stared, wide-eyed and lips parted, as Evgeni did not even so much as limp down the hall. Just hours ago the man was complaining about having to use his crutches for few days before he could walk on his own, let alone play hockey.
Finally coherent thoughts crashed into Joe like a waterfall when Evgeni finally lifted his head and jumped back in shock. They just stared at each other, both at a loss for words.
-----
Everything of the moment hit Joe then, the rush of emotions deafening in his ears. What should he feel? What did he not feel? Joe’s world was so confusing.
Betrayal?
Relief?
Excitement?
No one emotion settled calmly in his mind as he stared at the man before him. The whirl of everything, explaining nothing, made Joe dizzy. His head clouded and he stumbled to the side. Joe just barely caught himself with an arm against the wall.
And another hand reached out and held on tightly to his bicep.
Joe turned his wide eyes to the pale fingers, following the arm up the long neck, finally locking eyes on Evgeni’s face. The face had the word ‘busted’ written all over it.
The skin contact sent heat and shivers through Joe’s body and he yanked his arm back, Evgeni’s grip loosening in compliance. The touch lingered, even when Evgeni backed up a step, and Joe brought a hand to rub it away.
Its impression was left branded on his flesh.
Words finally came to Joe, and he opened his mouth to whisper, to laugh, to shout, to say something, but all that came out was “W-what?”
Evgeni jumped forward again as Joe stared in a haze. He brought his face even with Joe’s, and the cold palms were suddenly cupping his jaw. Grey eyes searched deeply, and the burn infested under his skin again, the piercing eyes igniting a fire within him. The flames licking at his insides became too intense, and Joe had to look away.
Evgeni released his face, but neither man moved. Staring into the hardwood floor, Joe croaked out “Why?” He looked back, ignoring the twinge crawling over his skin when the calculating gaze was roaming over his face.
“I-I whanted to tell you-” Evgeni began meekly, but was interrupted from a gruff noise from the back of Joe’s throat.
“Wait, what? How long…” Joe protested, but then stopped himself to hold his heavy head in his hand. He began more slowly. “Wanted to tell me? What are you talking about? What’s happening?” The questions rolled off Joe’s tongue with ease, his eyes flickering over Evgeni’s pallid expression, as it grew more withdrawn.
Evgeni licked his lips, his eyes diverted to the ground. “I, um, whell…” His flustered appearance was made of a red face, a bit bottom lip, and twisting, nervous hands.
“What’s going on?” Joe interjected, throwing up his arms with impatience.
A short glare was sent from Joe before Evgeni began again, his words slow and cautious. “I-I whould have told you… if… if you were anyone else. I-I guess-“
“How long has this been going on?” Joe asked; his voice was scolding and disappointed.
Evgeni growled in frustration, and buried his fist into the plane of the wall. “Do you want me to tell you?” A defeated look flashed across his eyes before he blinked it away.
“I’d like to know what you’re doing,” Joe replied, his rapid emotions melting away until only confusion pulsed in his head, taking over his being and pressuring him to find out more.
“Are you ghoing to let me tell you?” Evgeni snapped, looking to Joe for a second, before his eyes flashed and he looked away again. Joe wanted to ask more, but he remained quiet, if not for Evgeni, then at least for his pounding head.
Nodding reluctantly, Joe placed his hand on the wall again to steady himself. His legs gave way under his weight, and he slid to the floor, his shoulder pressed into up against the beige paint. Once his knee hit the ground, Joe’s body collapsed into an exhausted heap.
Evgeni sunk down to his level, both legs carrying his weight just fine.
“Ray told me until… um… Dhecember?”
“That’s what you told me he said,” Joe sniffed, bitterness laced in his voice.
Evgeni winced and nodded in agreement. “R-right… Iya did say that…”
The length between his pauses grew, but Joe’s mind was moving so fast, he could barely keep up with the words as they were. Evgeni began mumbling again, and Joe shook his stuffy head.
“Bhut I’ve been feeling… better, and… and I’ve walked without crutches before! I’ve bheen just fine,” he continued, the words hesitant and unconvincing.
Thinking hard on what Evgeni just informed him, Joe slouched his shoulders and rolled his head against the wall. “You’ve done this before?” Evgeni nodded, catching his bottom lip between his teeth. “But then why… why didn’t you tell me?”
Once said, Joe knew that was what had hurt him the most. Not the fact that his friend had kept this from the team, but rather that Evgeni had kept this from him.
Evgeni’s head snapped back around, and he placed a cautious hand on Joe’s left shoulder. Joe did not shy away from the touch this time, even though the fire rippled under Evgeni’s fingers.
“Whell… this is why I didn’t tell you.” Joe raised a brow and cocked his head away from the wall as Evgeni’s grip slackened. “I… I didn’t whant you to worry. And I didn’t whant you to stop me. I… Iya couldn’t have tried this with you.” He swallowed and glanced shamefully away once more. “I’m sorry.” Evgeni's head tipped away from Joe. "You worry so much. Abhout me," he finished. "I didn't do it on purpose," his excuses died on his tongue.
Joe sighed and fixed his eyes onto the ceiling. He was always tired; after dedicating his life to hockey, he had gotten used to the fact that a restful day was hard to come by. He was tired of fighting, tired of the confusion, and tired of the despondent glances Evgeni made to the ground when he thought Joe was not looking. Joe could handle tired, but now he was utterly exhausted.
“I just wish you would have told me,” Joe whispered, his voice hanging heavily in the air.
The hold on his shoulder tightened as he said this, but relaxed quickly afterward. “Which is why I couldn’t tell you… I nheeded to walk. You would have stopped me if you saw…”
“No I wouldn’t,” Joe mumbled halfheartedly.
Evgeni raised a skeptical brow and leaned his head into the wall. He massaged his long fingers into the tight muscle near Joe’s neck while the burn in his skin raged into a wild inferno.
“Dhuring the father’s trip… I couldn’t whalk on the crutches anymore… I don’t need them,” he stated firmly, his eyes a grey slate.
Joe winced as Evgeni’s kneading became more pronounced with each word he spoke. “Ah, then why don’t you?” he asked softly, his voice barely louder than the hum of the heater.
The fingers stopped at Joe’s question and Evgeni furrowed his brow. “Why don’t I what?”
“Why don't you," Joe felt like his words were strangling him and took a breath to clear his mind and throat. "Why do you still have the crutches?” He elaborated, his lips forming the words carefully.
“Ah… Ray said I had to-”
“And here you are, obviously not using them.”
“I-I feel better though.”
“Then tell the coach, Yevi,” Joe stressed as he lifted a heavy hand to lie over his eyes. He unfolded his legs out from under his body and stretched them until his feet hit the other side of the hallway. Both of his knees cracked and the sickening sound echoed in the empty space until it reached Joe’s ears.
“I-!” Evgeni began to protest, but then he snapped his mouth shut to end what he had wanted to say.
The hand on Joe’s shoulder fell away limply, and Evgeni hung his head, effectively obstructing Joe from seeing the whirlpool of emotions in his eyes. “I’ll tell McLellan tomorrow,” he muttered, his voice drowned out by the heater.
-----
As promised, the next day Evgeni told the coach that he was ready to play with the team again. He practiced with the others that very morning. The other Sharks gladly welcomed their starting goaltender back with smiles and cheery faces, and the mask Evgeni put on to humor them did not fool Joe in the slightest.
When Joe asked again why Evgeni did not confide in him, Evgeni’s simple reply was that he would have disapproved. Joe was a little stung by the comment, but it hurt less when he accepted that Evgeni was right. He would have objected; insisting instead that Evgeni listen to every word the trainer told him about his leg and its health.
-----
Two days later, Evgeni was dressed in the brand new black jersey. Joe smiled to his friend, glad to see him in the familiar environment, even if those moments of passing the man in the backup seat were far and few between. The sharks won, 7-2. It must have been the third jersey. Must have been the silky black threads holding the team together.
-----
Another two days and Evgeni joined the team in wearing the black jersey again, although this time when Joe sent him a smile, the cage of his mask prevented Joe from seeing if the gesture was returned.
Evgeni stopped twenty-six shots and Joe scored the goal in overtime for a 3-2 win against the Chicago Blackhawks.
Afterwards, each Shark grinned broadly as he told the starting goaltender how much he has been missed as the end of the game. Joe did not say a thing; he was afraid that if he was to open his mouth, he might say something embarrassing, for the thrum of ecstasy churning inside of him too unstable for him to control.
-----
On the flight to Dallas, the team was eerily quiet. It may not have been a playoff match, but they were returning to the city that had cut their last season short. Sour feelings remained, even if the players denied it. Of all of the eighty-two games in the season, this game was played with a little more passion. This was the game circled on the calendar.
As Joe sat in the Star’s visiting team locker room, he watched Evgeni hold his head in his hands and refuse to look up. The scene would have been troubling on normal circumstances, but Joe knew that this was his rematch against Dallas. It was something that he could not share with the team, and Joe would be lying if he said that he did not feel the same way before.
Before Joe and Evgeni left the locker room, Joe grabbed the deathly pale man by the arm and pulled him into a tight hug. “I’m gonna win this one for you, to make up for last time when you deserved it the most.” The embrace was short, but the message was clear.
-----
The first period ended with San Jose leading 3-1, Joe adding an assist on Dan’s first goal of the game.
The second period gave the Sharks two more tallies, and Joe managed another assist on a defenseman’s goal.
The final score came at 6-2 and the majority of the American Airlines’ Center left the building much less satisfied than the last time they watched the team in teal crumble after four overtimes.
The Sharks stayed calm and humble on the ice, but as soon as they entered the locker room, shouts and whoops burst from the players. Beaming faces, slaps on the backs, and laughter punctuated the conversations that filled the room. The merriment was more intoxicating than the celebratory beers that would be had later that night.
After a few minutes of talking with Patrick, Joe pivoted around on his spot to scan the room. His face-hurting, cheek-stretching grin faded when he could not find Evgeni anywhere.
Devin passed by shirtless, following a blond reporter, and Joe could already see where that was going. With a snort and a roll of his eyes, Joe pulled on his jacket. He left the excitement of his teammates to find the one person he wanted to truly enjoy the win with.
-----
A gust of wind chilled Joe to the bones and he pulled his jacket tighter to his body. Dallas’ bright lights shone from every direction, and its people filled the sidewalks. Very few glares were sent in Joe’s direction, as most people he pushed past were stumbling on wobbly legs, leading them to the next bar.
Joe checked his phone again, tapping the screen with his calloused thumb, and huffing when he saw his only text was from Devin saying that Dallas reporters snore too loudly. He had called Evgeni five times, and left two messages, then decided that it would be best to wait for Evgeni to call back on his own.
But the waiting was killing him.
At first, the disappearance was unfortunate; however, considering who it was, it was not a rare occurrence. But each time Joe called, the sickening dread grew heavier in his stomach when the answering machine picked up.
He took to scouring the streets, but the city was so large, and Evgeni was just one of a million people in Dallas.
Joe entered a less crowded area of the city, and he sighed in relief. The packed dance clubs and high-end stores thinned, until the last flashy building was blocks behind him.
Joe removed his phone from his pocket again only to stuff it back into his jacket seconds later. He ran his jittery fingers through wavy hair, and then tapped them on his scruffy chin. He kept his other hand stuffed in his pocket, securely wrapped around his phone.
Eyeing a tattooed man with a buzzed head and excessive piercings wearily, Joe forced his strides to be longer and swifter. The buildings became more ill-kept, and as he passed the dark holes between the structures, Joe could feel eyes following him. No cars passed by him now, and no sign of friendly life, but he was confident in his tall stature as an imposing front, so he kept walking.
A wavering moan leaked from one of the alleyways and a dirty hand emerged from the darkness, grabbing a handful of Joe’s jacket. The hardened hockey player yelped and tugged his clothing back, stepping away from the wall of stone and toward the poorly lit street.
Mindful to stay close to the streetlights, Joe hid the fact that he was hanging his head in fear by pulling out his phone and staring at the ‘no new messages’ on his glowing screen. His head was yelling at him to turn around, to return to the bright, flashing lights of society. The rapid beat in his chest made his temples pulse in time, and a weight lagged down every muscle in his body.
Fear sank its fangs into Joe, and he succumbed to it. And yet his legs continued walking forward.
He did not want to be here, in the dirty slums of the city, where the shadows moved and everything watched him with hungry eyes. The pull of pure beastial instinct kept him going, his rational state of mind lying dormant until it was needed.
The street light a few paces in front of Joe wavered, and when he stepped under it, the beacon died. Gulping down a shout, the man quickly stepped into the area of the next light. He stood still for a moment, allowing the artificial rays to sink into his body before he continued his mindless walking.
A few strides more, and Joe could hear scuffling from another looming alleyway. A pained cry broke the silence and Joe bit his tongue as he forced himself forward, albeit slower. Another cry erupted from the shadows, and Joe stopped just before the alley’s opening, squeezing his eyes shut to block out the evil intent that radiated in the air.
The buildings became the jaws of a carnivorous beast, and the alley its wide mouth, leading to the abyss of its stomach. Trapped in its teeth was another, calling for help with its last dying breaths.
There was a loud crash and the whimpering creature became silent.
“Come back for more, faggot?” a voice boomed, and Joe felt his insides curl in fear and disappointment in himself for being unable to move.
Haggard breathing was the angry man’s only answer, before a muted thud spurred surprised hacking and coughing.
“What was that, faggot? I didn’t hear you!”
“N-no…” a small voice replied, and Joe’s heart broke at the pathetic sound.
“Fuck!” Another thud and a surprised choke reached Joe’s ears. “I’m gonna make you learn your lesson, bitch!” More scuffling was heard, and then one of the men fell to the ground, losing his breath as he did so. “You won’t run away this time. You can't."
Glued to the spot in horror, Joe remained petrified for himself and for the other man. He placed a trembling hand on a lamppost to steady himself when the noises became more violent.
There was a smack of lips parting and a wet slap as they attached themselves sloppily to skin. A hiss of a zipper opening made Joe clench his eyes tighter together.
“S-STOP!” the man sobbed before his cry was muffed out.
And Joe could not stand listening anymore. His legs unfroze and he bolted into the darkness blindly.
A hunched figure of a man sat straddling the lean midsection of another, the heaving back of the one on top facing Joe. His hand was behind him, clawing at the sides of the struggling man’s jeans, forcing them off the sharp hips. His other hand was in front of him, pinning thin wrists under his larger weight.
Quiet sobs escaped the defenseless man when the hand ended its tugging at his jeans and slipped into the front of his underwear. His trembling legs stopped fighting.
He gurgled something in a sob before he fell silent.
“J-Joe…”
Eyes widening at the call of his name, Joe swore time stopped at that moment. He knew that voice.
His brain recognized it as familiar before he recognized it at as a who. But when it did, all time sped up.
The man atop Evgeni chuckled into the pale neck from where it was latched. “Shut the fuck up and enjoy it.”
And then Joe saw himself boxing the man in the ear.
The figure landed to the side in a heap, and his hands were ripped away from Evgeni’s pants when he fell. A feral growl tore from between the assailant’s bared teeth as he whipped his head around from his fallen position. Joe took in the angular features and the sharp, dirty blond hair of the man with disbelief. He knew that man too. Joe stared, dumbstruck. He played hockey against that man hours ago.
With a snarl, Joe delivered an uppercut to Sean Avery right in the jaw.
The man’s eyes rolled in the back of his head and he slumped to the ground, unconscious. Joe was shaking with anger and from the sob that wracked his body. His chest burned, and it was not the burn he felt when Evgeni’s fingers touched his skin. This burn in his chest hurt, and all he wanted to do was claw his fingers into the pain to scratch at the raw feeling it left there.
Instead he whipped his head back to Evgeni, and tears streamed down his face when he remembered everything.
-----
Evgeni emerged from the bathroom, his head bowed as he fixed the bottom of his large sweatshirt. He did not even so much as limp down the hall.
--
Joe entered the locker room first with a smile so large it hurt his cheeks, only to find Jay Woodcroft there by himself to pat them on the back.
--
Evgeni lay there on the ice, his face buried in his arms and his legs bent at a strange angle.
--
Jonathon began to whisper again, “Really though, their captain’s out, but they’ve got Sean Avery this year.”
A loud clatter near Evgeni made Joe swivel around.
His complexion was a sickly white, and he appeared to be shaken up as he bent down to retrieve the skate that he had fallen from his hands. Joe sent Evgeni a quizzical glance, which he shied away from, instead choosing to place the skate in his lap and clutch it tightly until his knuckles turned as pale as his face.
--
“Ya mean at the time.”
“Huh?” Evgeni finally looked back up, his once wild eyes grey again.
“You mean it wasn’t a big deal at the time, right?”
Evgeni just stared back with confusion etched into his features. A moment passed and the question dawned on him. His eyes widened and he nodded his head vigorously.
--
“I-I haven’t even seen him smile in… f-forever!”
“That’s not true-”
A scoff cut into what Joe was going to say. “Oh, yeah, b-but t-that’s when he’s with you.” Devin inched closer and Joe shrank into his corner, soon stuck between the young man and the hard door of the cab. “S-something’s wrong. E-everyone sees it… w-why won’t you?”
--
“Who… who have you become?”
Evgeni shook his head and rested it on his hand, gazing down at the wooden counter top. “I-Iya dhon’t know… a-a stranger Iya ghuess.”
--
“Is there something wrong?” Joe whispered as he turned to Evgeni.
“… Nhothing that’s fhixable,” he whispered back meekly.
--
“Why the fuhck did you tahke my clothes off?" Evgeni snarled through gritted teeth, a hateful glint in his stormy eyes.
--
“If not McLellan, then what’s up?” Joe questioned, truly concerned.
Evgeni shook his head vigorously. “Iya cahn’t tehll you… Iya wouldn’t know what to say.”
-----
His thoughts were held together by a string, and each connected to this moment. He kept his watery gaze locked on the man he never quite understood, and realized that Evgeni was laying there, as easy to read as a book. The shield was stripped away, his protective wall pulverized into dust.
There Evgeni was, cold and broken on the dirty ground. The mysterious disappearances, the nervous glances, the secret meaning to his words, all became so obvious.
The simplicity of the man was overwhelming, and Joe fell to his knees by Evgeni’s side.
-----
to be continued...
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Now you may may say that "Hey, Avery could not have done this last year after the Dallas game because 1) he was not on the Stars last year, and 2) his team (Rangers) got knocked out the very same day!"
But I have done my homework, my fair readers. The Rangers/Penguins game started at 2 EST and ended roughly 5 EST. The Sharks/Stars game stared at 7:30 central, and ended around 1 in the morning. I have planned the planes trips and driving and I have come to a conclusion that it would be possible. But let's hope that it never happened, yes? And everything shall be explained in time.
Now that this is over with, who was expecting that??? Review, I'd like to read your views/complaints/shocked ramblings.