#barzzal imagines

[barzzal]

call me crosby → part six

summary: Young, reckless, and rash, an unplanned pregnancy causes a massive rift in your relationship with then, cup-hungry 27 year-old Sidney Crosby. As he gets caught up in his own childish and selfish ways, confused to what was once certain, he lets you struggle alone. His absence reasons a miscarriage scare that leads you to end the relationship. Years after losing you, having to live a life that’s surrounded with the families his friends have built through the years embodies his greatest regret. Now with three cups and tons of awards at his disposal, Sid is given a chance to right his wrongs and win what was once the biggest loss of his life.

pairing: sidney crosby x fem!reader gen. warnings: language and theme, co-parenting, mentions of pregnancy & false miscarriage, sexual/suggestive themes, 18+ ch. warnings: parenting, tantrums, and a tad bit of angst genre: hockey rpf, fluff, angst, kid-fic, exes to lovers length: series; 5.2k masterlist: the barn, series masterlist

note: REALLY hoping i get to finish this while on my uni break. This was supposed to be posted on father's day but ya girl was on a trip i had to make most of it yk! Also, do note that the italicized part is a quick flashback. Anyway, happy reading! <3 (gif used: mine)

disclaimer: this is a work of fiction. teasers, interviews, events, and the like that are included in the series are purely made for fictional purposes and do not/should not represent any of the names involved in real life. please proceed with caution.  

Two words. Terrible twos.

It was one of the things your mom has told you about raising a child of your own. It was a stage full of tantrums and frustrations; one you’ve never dealt with before. You were told that it was overwhelming, that you have to prepare yourself mentally and physically for it. However, your son, as the marvel child that he is, was so good at that age that you need not have to worry about it. 

Well, not until a few years later. 

“Mommy, please!” Luke wails in frustration from the living room. 

He has been asking for a little more screen time watching his show instead of doing his homework. And be that as it may, he has been adamant about not getting what he wanted. 

This has been going on for a couple of weeks, following Luke’s realization of not getting to play much of hockey. Frankly, as well as not seeing much of Sidney. 

“Honey, you’ve been watching for almost two hours. That’s enough.” you say, massaging your temple as you walk towards where he is, trying not to lose your temper.

You and your son have always been in sync. You have not really had the chance to reprimand or give him a good scolding. Lucas is a fairly calm child right from the beginning. To say the least, dealing with his temper tantrums now is a lot harder than you’ve prepared for. 

You see him sitting on the couch holding the remote tightly. His cheeks are still evidently damp from all the crying. You know he’s bound to strain his voice just by looking at him. 

“Two hours is not enough!” he appeals. Just like you thought, his voice is now nearly gone from all the screaming. “Please, I want my TV!” 

It is during times like this where you have to try harder as a mother. You know it will not always be rainbows with Luke. But despite your efforts to ensure that he would be able to express himself when you greatly need it, you can’t blame a child for not knowing exactly how he feels nor the reason for it. You just wish he’d be able to let you know even just a little. At least then, you could make it all better.

“Baby,” you endearingly call for him as you approach. 

With a soft smile on your face, you caress his hair. Your hands then fall to his cheeks so as to wipe his tears away. 

“You’ve already watched a lot of episodes today...” you carefully work your way in; gently reminding him of his acquired screen time. 

Frustratingly, Luke’s voice breaks as he tries to tell you he wasn’t going to watch any more episodes of Paw Patrol and the new Lego Spiderman. 

“Then what were you trying to watch?” you ask him with the same nurturing voice. 

You see Luke shoot a glance over the screen that you’ve already turned off half an hour ago. 

Yes, this has been going on for that long. 

“Mkay, you may turn it on so you can show me.” 

There comes a glint of hope in his eyes the moment he hears you. You fight the urge to chuckle, finding it quite adorable. 

Luke, now standing on his feet, finds the red power button and points it towards the television. Once it’s turned on, the thumbnail of a show greets you; one that you least expected– one that you clearly were not ready for. 

“So tell us guys, how can we make hockey more fun?” said the last voice you wanted to hear. 

Sid and Nathan in their respective jersey’s for a commercial a few years back comes into view. You know that it was one of his brand commitments that he still does to this day. You were just not aware that Tim Horton’s apparently had this particular video uploaded for everyone to see. 

As you watch the clip turn over to a handful of kids skating towards the two famed athletes, you make the mistake of taking the remote from your son to pause the short youtube clip quite hastily. You inevitably surprise him with your reaction thereby scaring him. 

Upon deducing that you were upset by the show that he has chosen, Luke begins to cry even harder than before.

Alarmed, you put away the remote and reached for him. You let him fall in your arms whilst he buried his face in your chest. 

“I’m sorry, baby. Mommy didn’t mean that.” you try to convince him, caressing his head. You feel disgusted with yourself because you know this is not the way you wanted this moment to unfold. 

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Mommy.” Luke says in between his sobbing. He hugs you tighter whilst in a heaping mess.

“Hush, it’s okay.” you comfort him. “I’m sorry too.”

You let him cry himself out. It may be heartbreaking for you, but you couldn’t think of any other way to help your seemingly helpless child. The only thing you could offer him is the assurance that you will always be by his side when he needs you. 

You know that the overwhelming surge of emotion he’s feeling now is quite new for him. Dealing with his outburst may be tough on your end, but you can’t even imagine how much harder it must have been for a child to be utterly clueless as to why he is crying. 

Swiftly, just like you used to do when he was a baby, you sway your body whilst Luke stays in your embrace. Once Luke’s breathing begins to calm down, you lovingly caress his back; deciding to try again. 

“How are you feeling, darling?” 

Luke doesn’t utter a word. However, you feel him move even closer to your body as if there was any space left. You tighten your hold on him as you place a kiss atop  his forehead. 

“Mommy’s not mad at you, okay?” 

With what you assume is the last of his sobs, Luke quietly replies, “Okay…” 

He breaks away from your hold and looks you in the eye, “I’m sorry.”

You offer him a reassuring smile, “I’m sorry too. I didn’t mean to scare you, honey.”

You plant a wet kiss atop his nose, making him giggle. 

“May I know why you wanted to watch more TV?” you ask.

When you see a hint of hesitation on his demeanor you add, “I’m not upset. I promise. Go on, you can tell me.” 

“Sidney…” 

“Do– Do you miss him?” you ask hesitantly, afraid to hear what his answer might be. 

Your son nods, “Uh-huh.”

Of course. 

Luke continues, “He said… he’s going to play with me when he comes back.” 

“Where is he, Mom? Why isn’t he back?” 

“I…” you struggle. You didn’t know how to tell him that this was all because of your doing. “I don’t know, honey.”

Luke looks at you with his little eyes, all too tired from crying. “Doesn’t he wanna play with me?”

You shake your head, determined not to put thoughts in his head that could be a detriment as to how he saw Sidney. Funny how you still instinctively did things for Sidney’s sake. 

“Of course, he does, sweetheart. He’s just—” 

Your son interrupts, “He’s just what?” 

You caress his cheek as you say, “He needed to take care of some stuff.” 

“What kind of stuff?”

You hum, playing with his hair. “Stuff like what Mom also has to take care of sometimes.” 

You think of an example. “Like, when I leave you with Aunt Claire for a little while, you remember?”

He looks up at you with enthusiasm in his voice when he says, “Aunt Claire always gives me M&Ms.”

You give him a warm and knowing smile. “She does, doesn’t she?” 

Your son continues, “She also gives me candy when you come back.” 

“Yes! See– I always come back, right?” you begin to explain. “Sidney’s gonna come back too, honey. It’s just taking a while. We need to wait a bit longer.”

Luke tilts his head, “Longer?” 

“Yes, right. Can you do that? Can you wait a little more for Sidney?” 

Once again, only with a discernible smile spreading on his lips, your son nods.

“Are you gonna wait for him too?” 

It takes a few seconds before you are able to answer.

“Yes. I am also waiting for him.”

𖥸

Days have gone and your son stayed true to his words. He’s waiting patiently for Sidney. 

In the meantime, Luke has shifted his focus on his art albeit not entirely off hockey given that most of his drawings were of hockey sticks, pucks, and the Pittsburgh Penguins logo. 

You no longer mind for as long as he is, for lack of a better term, distracted. You and Sidney have remained in no contact with one another and it is highly likely to remain the same. You may have kept in touch with Cath and Anna but neither of them gave you word as to how Sidney was doing. Surely, they were thinking you did not really care for it. Did you? 

You sigh, watching your son soundly asleep as he takes his afternoon nap. Days have been quite easier ever since the night you last saw Sidney. But you have to admit, seeing your son’s room now reminds you of him. You would have easily shut down the idea of having Sidney taint the corners of your home with his presence; particularly your son’s room. It would have easily aggravated you, perhaps fuel the hate you have for him even more. How come you don’t? How come what you feel instead is the void in your gut that is melancholy. 

Quietly, you shut the door of your son’s room to let him rest. 

You have been pondering as to how to remedy your situation with Sidney but alas, nothing came close to a practicable and civil reconciliation. You knew full well that co-parenting would be hard given the fact that it was one of the reasons why you chose to be your son’s only parent. You just fell short of realizing how it will equally be as hard on you. As much as you’d give every fiber of your being to be the best Mother you can be to your child, it kills you to acknowledge that Luke needs someone other than you, even more so that it inevitably means him needing his father. 

Perhaps Sidney isn’t the only one who had a hand in everything falling apart. ‘Perhaps’ is a little far fetched but a mere inkling would suffice. You are not yet ready to acknowledge you had your share in the wrongs that make up this little broken family of yours.  

You were putting away Luke’s plushies in his toy bin when you heard the doorbell ring. You place the bin on the floor before you make your way to the front door. It was unusual given that you were not really expecting anyone to drop by. The only close friends you have in the city would not be so careless in doing so for obvious reasons. 

You take a quick glance on the doorbell camera and your heart immediately sinks. 

Of all the people you’d expect to be waiting at the other side of the door, she would be the last one. 

The moment you opened the door you were welcomed with eyes as blue as the ocean back home, hair that is as gold as the afternoon sun, and a smile that’s entirely identical to Sidney’s and your son’s.

Close to losing all the words you know, you were able to say one name. 

“Taylor.” 

She wastes no second, “Is it true?” 

You see Taylor’s eyes wander off to Luke’s toy bin sitting idly near the staircase. The discerning look on her face let you know she no longer needed an answer. 

“Come in.” you say. 

Quiet and unsettling air sits as you invite Sidney’s sister inside your home. You did not really know where to begin. The best thing you can do now is to lead her to your living room, offer some tea, and sit in silence.

“Can I get you anything? I might have some tea lying around.” you say, offering formalities. 

Taylor gives you a tight-lipped smile. Reserved. You get it. You would be too if you recently learned you had a nephew.

“Water would be nice.” she replies. 

You give her a swift nod just as you tell her, “Please, make yourself comfortable.”

You turn on your heels and make your way towards the kitchen with cold hands and a pounding heart. Sitting with Sidney’s sister for afternoon tea isn’t exactly what you had in mind spending your time off work. 

Needless to say, you prolong the trip to the kitchen and back to the living room. You need to buy yourself some time to process what’s about to happen. 

Upon your return, you see Taylor looking at the photo wall you’ve created through the years. The very same one you caught Sidney looking at the first time you invited him over. 

When the two of you catch each other’s gaze, you offer Taylor an apologetic smile. It’s true. You now realize how your new life — your growth looked like through the eyes of your old friends. A harsh reminder that none of them are in it. 

You and Taylor were good friends ever since Sidney brought you to Halifax to meet his folks. You always had a hard time warming up to people you barely know, but with Taylor… well, she made it so easy. 

If only she knew of the things you’ve gone through subsequent to the better parts of your life with her brother. Maybe then, she’d understand. 

The two of you utter each other’s names at once, immediately stopping upon realization. 

You gladly let Taylor know she could continue what she was about to say. After all, you know she has nothing but questions that only you could answer. 

The first thing she asks is, “What happened?” 

You begin to explain. You tell her about the first time you knew you were pregnant, the moment you told Sidney, and how things unraveled shortly after that. You spared her no detail of what has come and gone; the years that flew by so quickly and dreadfully slow at the same time. 

“I didn’t know things were that hard,” she says apologetically, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because,” you pause, “I knew Sidney felt alone.” 

With kind eyes, Taylor replies, “So were you.”

Taylor has always been on your side despite being Sidney’s sister. She knew how difficult her brother can be. After all, she grew up with him. 

You sigh because what she said was true. You and Sidney were alone together. But regardless of the wall that separated the two of you, you didn’t want to let Sidney feel as alone as you felt when he left you. Maybe that’s why you inadvertently left Taylor out of the mess just so Sidney felt he still had someone on his side. 

“At the time everyone blamed him for not wanting a child.” you begin, “I knew that if I told you, you’d feel the same as I do. I didn’t want him to feel that his sister was against him too.” 

“Listen,” she says, “When Sid told me, I swore that I was gonna come up here and be mad at you… but for years, I’ve seen how the game ate up most of the Sid I knew. So I guess, I couldn’t really blame you.” 

“I only did what I thought was the best for us.” you say honestly, “I just didn’t think the repercussions of my action would bring us into this much mess.”

It’s true. The life you pictured with your son excluded Sidney, but you should have known that what Claire told you was right the moment you came back to Pittsburgh with your son. Sure, the first year went by so blissfully. But you have forgotten yet another circumstance you should have known before you dealt another card: Luke. 

Luke is growing up exactly how you dreamt him to be. A boy who has a mind of his own. You cannot really expect him to go along your every plan if he’s already becoming his own person, can you? 

You hate yourself for it. However, you’ll hate yourself even more if you deprive him of something he is entitled to have no matter how much you’re against it. 

Taylor stayed for a while. You spend the time showing her memories you’ve made with Luke. You showed pictures of your son as a newborn, the many birthday parties you have thrown for him, even the ones you have taken of him playing hockey. Taylor savored every bit of the nephew she could get to know. The only thing left now is to finally meet him. 

With nothing but a humble heart you hold Taylor’s hand and say, “I’m really sorry.”

Taylor puts her hand on top of yours, giving it a squeeze. “I understand.”

“Do you want to meet him?” 

“I do,” she gives you a warm smile, “but not when you and Sidney have yet to patch things up.” 

You let go of her hand and sigh. You understood what she wanted you to do. For the first time, you wanted the same thing too. 

“I’ll talk to him.”

𖥸

July has been warming up the city but your words still rang in Sidney’s ears as if it had just been uttered.

“I’m done.” 

As hard as it was to admit, Sidney knew that the article was the final nail in the coffin — the final string that would make him understand why you had to keep his son away from him. Just like all the other times, you were right. He had always been less of a man much like all the others. 

He couldn’t wrap his head around how he managed to screw things up worse than he already had even when he was barely making any progress. Perhaps, it was foolish of him to think he can still make it work. After all, what more remedy could he do to the very thing you have long buried six feet under? 

Instead, what he did was go home to Halifax days subsequent to the release of the controversial article. The last thing he wanted was attention so he did the sanest thing he could think of: renovate his lake shed. 

Apart from the fact that it was the off-season, Sidney could not see himself staying in his Pittsburgh home. The night you ended the attempt to co-parent with him only reminded Sidney of the time he foolishly thought he had already purged out of his system. It was as if he had been brought back to the night he was told his child was gone. 

“Please don’t end us.” he says, knees already on the cold hospital floor. “Please don’t make me leave.” 

Sidney feels your grip on his hand tighten as an attempt to break off his hold, but before you can do so, the door to your room opens to reveal Kris and Geno rushing to take Sidney away from you. 

“Sidney,” he hears Geno call his name. 

He didn’t budge. He wasn’t going anywhere without you. He knew you needed him. He understood what had to be done. A little too late, but he’s here now.

“Y/N-” 

“Sid,” Kris places a hand on his shoulder just as he firmly says, “let her rest.” 

It was the least Sidney could do. To let you be — as he had easily done so when it was the last thing you wanted.

Sidney came back to the hospital with a bouquet of your favorite flowers in his hands. He walked the halls with hope only to find out you were no longer there. He had been cut off as soon as Kris and Geno walked him out of your hospital room — the last time he was ever going to see you. 

He waited for hours sitting on the lobby bench beside your hospital room. If it were not for the next patient arriving to occupy the room, Sidney would not have probably left. 

The days he spent in your shared home haunted him of the days he had left you alone in it waiting for him to come home. The house he had built with his fame and successes have now become a constant reminder of what a failure it really was. 

Sidney sighed once he finished a glass of water. He absent mindedly places it atop the counter as his eyes remained in focus at a photograph placed on his refrigerator. It had been a while since he last saw it. After all, he only gets to go home during the off season. 

He walks towards the fridge and takes the photo in his hand. It was the first sonogram you had of your son. The one you dread having to leave when you finally had the courage to leave Sidney, but the last possession Sidney has of the life he could have been living. 

With eyes now glistening with impending tears, Sidney lightly rubs his thumb on the picture — what was once a tiny little peanut has grown to become a boy Sidney could no longer keep out of his mind. He’s hurting at the fact that he misses you — but his heart aches at the thought of Luke eventually forgetting about him. Sidney knows he’s going to be yet another random ‘Mr.’ at a camp that happened to teach him a sport he will grow up to forget eventually. All those memories Sidney will bring with him to his deathbed will surely be forgotten by the time the tiny little peanut graduates from college. 

Who else could he blame for the life he’s now living however miserable it may be? You offered him this life with your own life on the line. Sidney did nothing but toss it aside because he was set on his ways. He couldn’t blame anyone but himself. Perhaps, that’s what he should bring to his deathbed. 

Sidney’s self-loathing was put into a halt when he heard a chime coming from his phone already buzzing on his kitchen counter. 

He sees a message that almost had him on his knees. 

Just below your name were the words he had least expected but mostly hoped to read, “Can we talk?”

𖥸

As soon as you were able to set a date, Sidney wasted no time and got in the next flight bound for Pittsburgh. Sidney had two days to prepare before meeting you and while that seemed like enough time to be able to think about what he’s going to say the moment he sees you, he could neither ascertain how to explain nor justify his shortcomings. So, he won’t. 

Sidney watches your car pull over the driveway after having opened his gate. After the tedious two-day wait, you were back. Well, at least that’s what Sidney thought at the time. Because unlike him, it was not just two days — it has been six years. 

Sidney was chivalrous enough to let a few seconds pass before he finally opened the door for you although to tell you the truth, he had been at the other side of it long before you rang the doorbell. 

You follow Sidney’s steps as you make your way to the living room. Said walk was not like the others you used to thread on back when you were still together — it wasn’t so long and quiet. At least, it didn’t feel that way.

“Can I offer you a drink?” Sidney asks. The hoarseness in his voice strung along his words. 

Has he been crying that much? His eyes were a bit tired. He hasn’t been sleeping. How come Kris said he was fine? But then again, Sidney has had quite a talent in putting up a facade. You catch him fiddling his thumb. When he sees where your eyes have been, Sidney immediately takes his hand into his pocket. 

You immediately put your gaze elsewhere. “Uh, just water.” 

As you scan the view that is Sidney Crosby’s home, one thing comes to mind: it looks nothing like Connor Mcdavid’s. Sidney’s was far more deserving to be featured in Architectural Digest. To hell with black and metal. This was a home. 

Well, it is. Just not for Sidney.

Even if it was, a part of you knew Sidney would never parade his home for everyone else to see; let alone have it printed on a magazine.

Apart from the wood panels that fashioned the ceilings, everything else was unfamiliar. It was as if you never lived in it. He had new pieces displayed in various corners of the room. Some of it worth millions sitting idly beside or on top of worn out books like some mere paper weight. 

Sidney also redid the floors. Neutral wide plank flooring. You thought that it was quite a bold choice considering the majority of the furniture you had before came in dark tones. But then, that made you realize Sidney also bought new furniture. He also changed a few fixtures, here and there. The white french sliding doors leading to the patio were now replaced with glass doors that had wood trimmings as well as the hallway leading to your old home office that now had interior glass doors. You notice tons of boxes you could see from the other side. Perhaps, he thought it would now be a good use for a storage space. After all, he had to fill in every bit of void you’ve left him with. 

You tear your eyes away from the halls you used to frequent. Instead, you quietly follow Sidney’s footsteps. The house still had an open floor-plan. Sidney loved seeing everything at once. At least that hasn’t changed. 

“Make yourself comfortable.” he says with a tight-lipped smile just as he turns towards the kitchen.

The cloud of uncertainty was still evident and heavy. To top it all, you were neither sure of what to tell him nor where to begin. Clearly, you should have bought yourself a bit more time before ringing his doorbell. 

You hold your bag close to your chest once you’ve sat in Sidney's living room. You were wrong. The changes he made were drastic. His taste then was incomparable to how it is now. The Sidney you knew then wouldn’t be so meticulous as to what type of wood to use in his fireplace or what fabric to pick when it comes to throw pillows lining the couch. Hell, he wouldn’t have thought of having one — let alone five. 

A quiet smile seeps in your lips. It’s nice that something good has come out of such an ugly chapter in your lives.

Your eyes catch a shade of blue and crimson red blankly displayed on the side of the room from where you were sitting. You feel a gnawing guilt resting in your guts as the painting comes into full view. You stand as your hand travels to your chest. It was a piece by Peter Doig called the “100 Years Ago”. 

A man sits alone in a canoe in the middle of a quiet and still ocean. The man looks at you helpless and tired of what must have been an arduous journey. You meet his eyes, as if it were in desperate need of help. Your help. But then again, there’s an island waiting for him — even a house sitting on top of the hill. Couldn’t he just row his way and ask for help? Perhaps his inability to do so was due to the fact that he’d already gone to that house — maybe what it really was is just as empty as what he already had in the canoe.

As the eerily still piece settles before your eyes, you can’t help but think of what it must have been like to be the one that’s stuck. The man that was torn between two distances. To choose between whatever it was sitting before his eyes and the big island he can always call home.

“Hey.”

Sidney’s voice pulls you back to your feet. 

“I’m sorry I kept you waiting.” he says, two glasses of water in each hand. 

“No, it’s all right.” you say. 

“That–” you turn your gaze back to the painting before continuing, “That is something.”

Sidney gives a humble smile. “Thanks. I got it a couple of years back when I started renovating the place.”

It would be absurd to say that Sidney’s house has not changed since the last time you walked its halls. It did change. A lot. After all, you didn’t expect him to leave everything as it was; how you left it. Despite that, there was a little hope that Sidney did leave a bit of what might have reminded him of you untouched. 

“So– listen, the reason why I came here.” you begin, hugging the glass with both your hands. 

“I know. Taylor.” Sidney saves you the need to explain. “I’m sorry I told her. I wasn’t in my right mind the last couple of weeks.” 

It’s true. He knew it must have been hard for you to tell Taylor everything. It was yet another reason for you to cut him completely out of your life, yet another rash decision, yet another failure. Sidney did what he could at the time and his only wish now is for you to understand. He had just lost you and his son twice. To have done otherwise would have made him lose his mind. 

“No. It’s alright. She’s bound to know that she has a nephew.” you earnestly reply.

At this point, you have come to realize that you’ve been insufferable regardless of your own merits. Sidney thought he had lost a son. You couldn’t possibly deprive him of his own sister.

“How– how is he?” he asks, afraid of how he’ll be answered. 

You look Sidney in his eyes just as you say, “He’s been missing you.”

“Really?” 

“Yeah. Really.”

Sidney takes in the new information as a quiet smile spreads on his lips. Luke misses him. 

Seeing Sidney’s reaction brought you a sense of guilt and warmth only a parent could feel. 

“Honestly, Taylor visiting isn’t really the reason why I’m here.” 

His brows quirk and asks, “What do you mean?” 

“I think…” you say, fighting yourself from refusing to tell Sidney the truth. The very truth that you’re still having a hard time accepting.

“I think it’s time to acknowledge– and for me to accept, that my son needs you.”

It’s the truth. It might have been hard for you given that Sidney was the root of it all, but you could no longer put up with the way you have been treating Sidney at your son’s expense. You may still have bits of resentment towards what once was but that doesn’t give you a right to deprive your son of his right. A part of you may still hate Sidney for the pain he caused you, but you could not bear the thought of your son hating his father because of your own doing. 

Sidney is at a loss for words.

“Do you really mean that?” 

He sees you nod. 

You give him a reassuring smile. 

“It’s one thing to keep a father away from his child, but it’s another to keep a child away from his father.”

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note: patience patience patience. thank you all! ♡

add yourself to the series taglist here. i appreciate all kinds of feedback! ♡

[rleonard9]

https://www.tumblr.com/liquidflyer/691376741118361600/birthday-cake-m-barzal

https://tumblr.com/tagged/mat%20and%20london

https://www.tumblr.com/barzzal/634130915347546112/barzy-putting-his-daughter-in-the-cup-after-they

https://www.tumblr.com/fallinallincurls/633645265374560256/hiiiii-could-you-please-do-46-and-53-your

https://www.tumblr.com/lights-on-mendes/634271722430988288/hi-everyone-i-hope-everyone-is-staying-well-and

https://www.tumblr.com/natbarzal/647905123160539136/mathew-barzal-always-and-forever

https://www.tumblr.com/barzzal/634232995771990016/imagine-dadmat-with-twins-boy-and-girl-where-he

OH U SENT ME ALL THANKS

[matwith1t]

A/N: A part two!! As much as I love angst…I couldn’t leave the first part like that 🥴 You don’t have to read the first part to understand this fic, but you’ll definitely catch some little call backs!! If you have any feedback, I’d love to hear it all!! I hope you’re all having a wonderful morning/afternoon/evening !

Summary: Nearly a year since the break up with Mat, your life slowly started to revert back to life before him. But all of that progress goes away when you keep crossing paths.

MASTERLIST | LET’S CHAT 🥂 | Mat Barzal x Reader

Warnings: swearing, drinking // WC: 15K // Angst & Fluff

With the sun shining down, and no clouds in the sky to cover up its hard rays, it felt a bit warmer than the usual October day in New York. It was neither an excruciating humid day like the summers, nor a brutally frigid winter day. It just felt…average. But something in the air made the average day feel abnormal.

Maybe forgetting to set your alarm, and rushing to get ready, had something to do with why you felt on edge. Or maybe it had something to do with finding a crinkled polaroid picture of you and Mat––him laughing and you looking up at him––that you found in your sock drawer last night.

Maybe it was the picture.

But you definitely knew your sour mood could be traced back to this morning––seven minutes ago to be exact––when you ordered a coffee and the barista informed you that they were out of an ingredient for the drink you wanted.

“It’s not that bad,” your friend, Kennady, came up to stand beside you after she finished ordering her drink, “Worse things could happen.”

With a deep breath through your nose, you crossed your arms over your chest, “I know…”

And you knew things could be worse. There had been days in the past ten months that were definitely worse than a coffee shop being out of an ingredient to send you into a spiral. But this minute detail in the beginning of your day felt too mundane compared to everything you had felt in the past. And for some reason, it bothered you more than it should have.

Was it a sign that you were getting over him?

With a quiet laugh to yourself and a slight shake of your head at that thought, you quickly buried the idea. Not a chance, you thought to yourself.

When a barista called out your name for your americano, you politely excused yourself around other customers until you got to the counter. With a tight smile, and a small thanks, you picked up your coffee and went over to a little station where you could fix the drink to your liking.

You were in the middle of opening a sugar packet when you heard someone questionably call out your name.

It was an accent you hadn’t heard in quite sometime…A friendly French-Canadian accent that always reassured you of Mat’s feelings whenever he wasn’t in the room. After all, it’s what any best friend would do.

Not expecting to run into anyone during your little outing, your hand jerked back in surprise––sugar flying out of the packet––as you spun around in shock.

“Oh, I––Wow, Tito––I’m so sorry,” you tried to laugh, tried to ignore the sinking feeling in your chest as you met his blue eyes, but you hadn’t seen him––or a picture of him––since you unfollowed him on every social media platform you had him on.

Like every time you found yourself in his presence, he smiled, “Don’t worry about it, really,” he brushed off the sugar from his sweatshirt, “Shouldn't have snuck up on you.”

You shook your head and waved him off, a ball of anxiety slowly brewing in the pit of your stomach. Because you knew if Tito was here, then Mat would be too. The two of them always traveled in a pair; you learned that they were a package deal early on in your relationship. And you could pray all you wanted that Tito was on a solo coffee run, but by his freshly showered look and Islanders athletic wear…You knew he had just come from a practice.

“It’s okay,” you closed the lid on your americano, forgetting all about adding sugar or creamer in it, “How’re you?”

“I’ve been good,” He smiled, eyes glancing down to your foot tapping against the hardwood floor, “Yeah, just busy playing a lot of…Hockey.” His voice trailed off at the end of his sentence, as if he thought hockey might still be a sore spot for you.

And in a way, it was.

Tito cleared his throat, “And you?” He politely turned the question to you, “How…How’s the job?”

Relieved he didn’t ask you how you’ve been, you smiled softly, “It’s really great, I’ve had a lot more time to concentrate on it.” You looked over his shoulder to see if you could see Mat anywhere in the coffee shop, “I’ve been given more responsibilities.”

“That’s great to hear,” Tito sounded genuine, “I don’t want to hold you up, but it was really great to see you.”

Tito had always been very emotionally intelligent with identifying others feelings, and you had no doubt he picked up on your uneasiness.

You offered him a smile, “It was good to see––“

“Did you grab my coffee?”

The smile dropped from your face and instead of feeling the anxiety in your stomach churn, you felt nauseous.

Tito looked at Mat with the same hung open mouth and wide eyes that you had. Mat came up next to him so nonchalantly––so casually––as if he didn’t know he was in front of the person whose heart he knowingly wrecked nearly a year ago.

Still unable to form a sentence, Tito’s eyes briefly glanced over at you, standing frozen, “Yeah I––yeah.”

As if Mat sensed some tension in the air, he followed Tito’s vision. He had to do a double take, seemingly not trusting his vision that you were right in front of him. And in an instant, just like you and Tito, his eyes slightly widened and his mouth hung open. You knew that he was thinking the same thing as you…that you had gone nearly ten months of living in the same city and had not run into each other once.

But now that streak was broken.

Your breathing stopped as you looked at him for the first time since that unfortunate day in December where the air felt a little colder than the rest of the month.

As usual during the season, he was clean shaven, but you saw a few small pimples littered on his chin. He looked more tired than usual, but had a slight glow to his skin from a recent shower. The ends of his hair flicked out under his baseball hat, just above his ear. You always used to tell him how cute those flecks of hair looked as he tried to push them behind his ear.

But the one thing that made your heart shatter was the sweatshirt he was wearing. It was the navy blue Islanders sweatshirt from a few seasons ago that you had found stuffed away in the back of your closet last year.

The one you broke down into as your mother held you.

The one that Kennady took away when she saw that you still held on to it after you said you’d donate it. It caused quite the argument between the two of you…You wanted to keep the sweatshirt because––while it was delusional for you to think––maybe Mat would notice it was missing, then he would reach out, and you would talk again. Kennady didn’t think that was very healthy and said she would pass it along to Tito.

And pass it along she had.

With a shaky breath, and one last look at the man who you thought you’d spend the rest of your life with, you spun around with your coffee and walked away.

You had only gotten a few steps away when you felt a burning hand catch onto your elbow, “Y/N…”

His hand hadn’t left your elbow, and you stood stiff in the middle of the coffee shop,“I have somewhere to be,” you said to him without turning around.

“Can we talk?”

His voice was barely audible––a plea––a whisper that should’ve easily been lost in the chaos of the coffee shop, but whenever he was around, all you did was solely pay attention to him.

You gulped, “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Not here,” he was quick to follow up, knowing he shouldn’t be this lucky to get this much time with you, “I just––I want––How’re you?”

With an irritated sigh through your nostrils, and clenched jaw, you spun around to face him. Half of you melted at his wide and pleading eyes, a mix of uncertainty and care, but the other half of you wanted to leave him standing alone without an answer; much like he did with you when he broke your heart.

“Do you need something?”

He looked taken aback by your bluntness, “I…” Nervously, he took his hat off and ran a hand through his hair, “I scored a hat trick last week.”

You despised the way your heart fluttered with pride at his accomplishment.

Instead of focusing on the unconventional feeling of your heart soaring with pride, but simultaneously feeling crushed in his presence, you tried your best to respond with a monotone voice.

“So, a start to a good season?”

Again, he looked confused at your short phrases and general disinterest in what he had to say, “We…Yeah, looks like a good season. Last season was good too..” His eyes briefly left yours to look at your slightly shaking hand that was holding the coffee cup, “Did you…Have you caught any games?”

“I don’t watch hockey anymore.”

Unlike his sentences that wavered with doubt, your sentences were sharp and unremorseful.

But you knew your stoic demeanor came closer to breaking with every second you stood in front of him. It had been ten months since the break up, you should be fine, you kept telling yourself. But seeing him and not being able to mutter an inside joke under your breath and hear him gently laugh, not being able to reach across the inches between you two and give his hand a squeeze, and not being able to muster up the smallest of smiles in front of the one person who could coax a smile out of you with just their presence…You felt the exhaustion catch up to you.

And like everyone else who asked if you watched any hockey lately, he looked stunned at your answer. Because when you were together, you never missed a game. While you weren’t always physically at a game; you either kept up with it by following social media updates, watching it on television, or listening to the radio broadcasts of the game while walking to the subway or in a cab.

“You…You don’t watch hockey?”

You could’ve given him the long answer. How you unfollowed everyone and everything related to Islanders hockey, blocked every variation of the Islanders team name from social media to keep any news from popping up, muted his name on Twitter, deleted the NHL app, and if you were at a restaurant with friends and a television had a hockey game on, you always requested to sit at the furthest table away from the game.

Instead, you shook your head, “No.”

The longer you stood in front of him, the more you felt your composure slip. You didn't like feeling out of control of a situation, and standing so close to him only reminded you of what you didn’t have anymore.

“I have to go.”

But again, he took a step forward and tried to stop you from leaving, “Please, can we just––”

If only he had fought this hard ten months ago to keep your relationship alive; you wouldn’t be running away and he wouldn’t be begging for a basic conversation.

You could feel the tears well up behind your eyes and the familiar sting as you shrugged off his touch, “Mat, I really can’t do this right now––”

“It doesn’t have to be now––”

“Mathew,” Kennady’s harsh voice ripped through Mat’s desperate one.

His arm fell to his side, accepting defeat, as he kept his pleading eyes on your frame, “Ken, hey––”

“We’re late for something,” she took the shaking coffee cup from your hand and looped an arm around your bicep, “We’re leaving.”

And with her direct tone, and guidance of turning you around to exit the coffee shop, she kept a strong hold on your arm for support. Your breathing became more irregular, because out of all the coffee shops in the area, how did you manage to run into him. Maybe you were meant to run into him…Maybe it was the universe’s way of telling you that maybe you should talk to him.

“Don’t turn around,” Kennady whispered in your ear as you came up to the door, “I know you want to, but don’t.”

The first tear fell when she opened the door and you so badly wanted to get one last look at him. One more look at the one person you would still love no matter how much time passed. The second tear fell when you were waiting for the light to change at a crosswalk, as Kennady whispered encouraging words. The third tear fell when the two of you made it to a park and sat down on a bench.

She handed your coffee back to you, “You did great,” and gave your shoulder an encouraging squeeze, “So great.”

You tried to take a sip of coffee, but your hand shook too much. You tried to swallow down the scratchiness at the back of your throat, but it only came back stronger, “Why…” Another single tear fell as your voice cracked, “Why wouldn’t you let me turn around?”

She offered you a sympathetic smile, “Because I know how much you still love him.”

A small pathetic laugh escaped your lips at her honest answer, and you tried your best to mirror her smile, but it was as everything had just caught up to you. You had felt his comforting touch on you again. Heard his soothing voice again. You were with him again.

With how persistent he was to talk with you, it felt like he wanted to be with you.

The tears welling up in your eyes caused your eyebrows to pull together as you cupped a hand to your mouth and over your nose. Slowly, you leaned your head onto Kennady’s shoulder as she placed a comforting arm around your shoulders that shook slightly.

––––

The next time you saw Mat was another coincidence.

You were in the living room of a house in Garden City, softly chatting with friends in the corner, when a sudden roar of cheers from the front of the house interrupted your conversation. You and your friends laughed it off as more drunk antics of other guests, but then you heard his name.

“The person who absolutely crushed tonight’s game and that we’re forever grateful is an Islander; Mat Barzal!”

More cheers of agreement.

The plastic of the red solo cup in your hand easily cracked under your grip.

Deep breath in, he won’t come into this room…Deep breath out, who does he even know here…Deep breath in, did he come alone…Deep breath out, or was he here with teammates since it was after a game…Deep breath in––Oh my God, Tito just walked in.

He caught your eye immediately, and just like at the coffee shop, his eyes widened along with yours. But unlike the coffee shop, he didn’t come over to greet you. Instead, he offered you a slight nod of his head and turned around on his heel. Vaguely, you heard him speak over the music and talk of the party, but all your ears could pick up was ‘let’s go to the kitchen…’

A sigh of relief passed through your lips as you felt your shoulders relax. The small group you had been part of for the better portion of the night all gave you knowing looks, eyebrows raised high.

“I’m alright,” You took a sip of your drink. None of them looked convinced, Kennady specifically, but you stifled out a laugh before you took another, much longer, sip of your drink, “Really! I’m alright. It’s been over a year…” You gulped and locked eyes with Kennady, “I’m alright.”

She didn’t look convinced, but restarted the previous conversation, diverting the attention away from you.

It was January, three months since you saw Mat at the coffee shop, and you were fine. At least you thought you were capable of not breaking down in front of him. While you still were without much––if any––closure after your relationship ended, seeing him at the coffee shop felt like turning a page. Not necessarily a whole chapter, but just enough to start feeling a little better.

You both lived around the same area and still had a few mutual friends. To think you would never see him ever again would be foolish, so you had to make the best of this situation. Although, part of you hoped not to run into him ever again.

There had been times where you overhead a ‘Barzy’ or a ‘Beau,’ an Islanders chant, or someone complimenting Mat on his goals of the game. But for the most part, it felt as if he wasn’t there. You enjoyed the rest of the night, but a few hours later, his laugh caught your ear and you saw him tilt his head back from your peripheral vision.

You hadn’t even realized he was in the same room.

Progress, you smiled into your red solo cup as you went to take a drink, small steps of progress.

But your tiny smile disappeared when you saw you were all out of alcohol. With a frown, you quietly excused yourself from your group and walked into the kitchen. You waved at people you recognized, and felt great up until this point of the night. With every genuine smile you offered a friend, they returned it with a sympathetic smile, assuming you were overcompensating happiness by being in the same place with your ex-boyfriend.

And in turn, it caused doubts to float through your mind.

Were you really feeling alright being so close in proximity to him? Were you really starting to feel the process of mending your broken heart, or were you lying to yourself? Would you break down if he were to cross paths with him?

Repeating your breathing exercise from earlier, you calmed yourself down as you weaved through more people to get to the kitchen. You weren’t sure if you wanted to have the same drink, or something different, so you stood still for a few moments debating in your head. You were far from coming to a decision, but when you heard a familiar voice say your name, you quickly came to a decision that you needed to be sober.

You spun around and came face to face with Mat.

Unlike the athletic wear you saw him in the last time, he was currently dressed in a white button up shirt tucked into a pair of navy slacks. The top two buttons of his shirt undone, his sleeves cuffed up, and a small wisp of hair rested against the side of his forehead.

You felt your heart erratically beat against your ribcage as you stood in front of him. He looked as if he didn’t expect you to turn around for him, and the two of you stood in silence. His brain failed at forming a thought, so you said the first thing that came to your mind.

“You got a haircut.”

Mat’s cheeks went red as he ducked his chin into his chest, letting out a small laugh, “Yeah,” he looked up at you with the faintest of smiles, “I did.”

Silence.

He brought a hand up to scratch the back of his neck, “Uh…What’re you drinking?”

Snapping back to reality, and to why you were in the kitchen in the first place, you blinked your eyes a few times, “Water.”

“There’s some––I can, here,” Mat stumbled over his feet, like he did with his words, as he walked past you and to the fridge. You followed him toward the fridge, and watched him lean forward to grab a water from the back. You only had a few seconds to admire his side profile before he stood up straight and uncapped the water bottle for you.

“Thanks,” you uneasily said as you took the water from him, making sure you didn’t brush your fingers against his.

Mat took a deep breath, looked away from you, and ran a hand through his hair. You could now hear your heartbeat in your ears, knowing exactly what he was about to ask.

“Can we talk?”

This was exactly why you wanted water.

You took a long sip of water, and watched as Mat anxiously fiddled with his fingers. You brought the bottle away from your lips and offered him a tight lipped smile, “Not now.”

He looked like he wanted to say more; like he wanted to push you to your limits in order to get any type of reaction from you, but he knew that you wouldn’t play into that, especially in public. So he took your words as a cliffhanger––not an outright no––that you would revisit the topic of conversation he wanted to discuss.

But in actuality, you planned to dodge the conversation if he ever brought it up again.

Mat stuffed his hands in his front pockets and rocked back on his heels, still not knowing how to direct the conversation, even though he was the one who approached you.

As you stood in silence with Mat, little by little, you began to overthink.

It was in a kitchen where you and Mat had first met. You were at a different mutual friend’s house, but it was eerily similar to how you met the first time…talking over drinks. Except this time, there was so much history between the two of you that it was hard to find some common ground to talk about without feeling like you were walking on eggshells.

The first time you met him, you had only heard his name in passing from occasionally tuning into Islanders games or hearing your friends talk about their friend Mat. The conversation flowed easily, laughter was present nearly every minute the two of you talked, and he slowly moved toward you thinking you didn’t notice him trying.

But you noticed everything.

Like now; you noticed there was no conversation, no laughter present, and how Mat leaned slightly away from you. There were too many memories that couldn’t be forgotten. Too many nights where the two of you were at a friends house like this, but would ride home together with fingers intertwined, instead of leaving separately which would happen tonight. Too many nights where there was an extra set of clothes on his bedroom floor that looked like they belonged.

Too many feelings involved.

You wanted to believe that you were strong enough not to break down in front of him again. You wanted to think that you were alright; wanted to think that you weren’t moments away from shutting down and having your heart wrecked all over again. But you didn’t want to leave his presence just yet. You weren’t at your tipping point yet.

“You had a game tonight?”

Mat nodded his head rapidly, taking in any interaction and conversation he could get with you. He seemed to also not want to leave your presence just yet.

“It was a good game,” he easily smiled with a shrug of his shoulders.

You let out a small laugh and rolled your eyes, “Stop being modest,” if you were closer to him, and felt more comfortable, you would’ve shoved his shoulder, “People were cheering your name when you arrived.”

His eyebrows rose with excitement, “You heard all of that?”

“Now tell me how you really played,” you tilted your head back slightly to take a sip of water.

There was a smile toying on your face, but the grin on Mat’s face stretched from ear to ear, “Really fucking good,” he let out a breathy laugh, “I scored twice, had some really nice plays, a couple of assists…” his eyes held a certain gleam to them whenever he talked about hockey, something you never saw even when he talked about you.

You swallowed the lump in your throat and smiled, “That’s amazing. Only one short of another hat trick.” Both of you let out a small laugh at the attempt of your joke. There was more silence, and you could tell you were about to hit your tipping point soon, no matter how many times you scolded yourself not to cry, but you spoke up.

“If you keep playing this well I might have to watch a game.”

The way his face lit up was different than anything you had seen before, even with what you saw just seconds ago when he was talking about hockey. There was a difference in the way the corners of his eyes crinkled, his eyebrows arched in an excited way, his smile showcased all of his teeth, and there was a different spark in his eyes.

“Yeah that’s––You should,” he cleared his throat, but still had a grin on his face, “If you watch you’ll have to let me know.”

“I’ll do that––”

“Barzal!”

Both of your attentions were pulled away by the shout of his name. And when you saw that the person who called out his name held up a ping pong ball, and Mat turned his head to look at you with a small smile––one similar to the night you first met, but a little less devilish––you knew that this was your tipping point.

While it would be fun to pretend like you barely knew Mat, partner up with him for beer pong, and relive the moment how your relationship first started…It was too much.

You smiled apologetically, clenching your jaw tight to keep your chin from wobbling, “My sister texted saying she needs a little motivational talk.”

He hid his disappointment well, but you saw that spark in his eyes fade away when he nodded his head in understanding. But he still held a small smile on his face for you, “You were always the best at those.”

“Mhm,” you hummed, not trusting yourself with words as memories of you motivating Mat before a game or cheering him up after a hard loss came flooding into your mind. You silently sniffled and picked your water up, “I’ll see you later, Mat.”

“Yeah…” he sounded like he was in a daydream, “See you later.”

You kept your eyes glued to the floor and texted Kennady asking if she could meet you out back, as you weaved through people. This time as you made your way through the crowd, you didn’t smile at anyone.

The first tear fell when you heard someone cheer Mat on by saying he should play basketball instead of hockey. The single tear slowly slid down your cheek as you heard his laughter echo around the house. The second tear fell as you replayed the similarities of the night you first met in your head compared to tonight. Everything almost lined up the same way, everything almost felt like that night.

Except this night…there were less smiles, more silences, and instead of your heart fluttering with butterflies because a boy you thought was cute talked to you at a party, you felt your heart drop down into your stomach like a broken elevator.

Your phone buzzed when your hand reached out to open the back door; Kennady saying she was making her way to you.

And the third tear fell when you turned your head to look back at Mat one last time.

You should’ve known he was already looking at you.

His eyebrows were pinched together in concern, head slightly tilted to the side, as he looked straight at you and mouthed “are you okay?” Sometimes you forgot that he knew you just as well as you knew him. And this moment made it clear to you that he didn’t believe the lie you told to get out of being his beer pong partner.

Your chin wobbled as you tried your best to smile––which you were sure looked more like a grimace––and you mouthed back, “I’m fine.”

You didn’t wait for him to either repeat his question or ditch the game to comfort you. And in a matter of seconds, you were out the door, the cold January air prickled your scorching hot skin, as you saw Kennady already waiting outside.

She looked up from her phone, and when she saw the deep frown on your face and silent tears falling down your cheeks, her shoulders dropped as she opened her arms. Hastily, you made a few long strides over to her and collapsed in her arms. She held you tightly as one hand trailed her finger tips up and down your spine to sooth your quiet cries.

“I––I still love him,” you hiccuped.

“I know.”

––––

January passed slowly as ever, and you didn’t see Mat for the rest of the month.

You tried to watch an Islanders game, but when the camera panned to Mat, and the announcers praised him for how amazing of a season he was having, you shut it off. You had a plan to watch the game, send him a text after, and then maybe it would lead into a conversation…but it was too soon for you. Even after over a year of not seeing him play, it was too soon.

So you tried again in the first week of February. It was an away game, and while Mat rarely ever showed it, you knew from previous experience that he was always more nervous playing those than a home game. And to hold yourself accountable to actually watch the game, you texted Mat a few hours before puck drop.

He never claimed to have any superstitions about looking at his phone before a game, but you knew he always kept it away to lessen distractions. So, after composing a few different variations of a message, you sent a small good luck tonight!! And then set your phone face down on the coffee table.

Your heart was beating more than it should have for just sending a simple text. You felt bile churning in your stomach as you buried your face into your clammy hands. It’s a text message, you scolded yourself, no need to overthink everything. But overthinking was what you did best.  

Maybe you shouldn’t have used two exclamation marks. Maybe you should’ve said your name in case he deleted your number. Maybe you shouldn’t have prematurely sent a text message, because what if you couldn’t make it through a whole game? What if your text messed up his pre-game ritual? What if he lied when he told you he wanted to know if you watched a game?

What if he changed his number and didn’t tell you?

But your phone vibrated against the coffee table, snapping you out from your inner-turmoil. And with a deep breath, you flipped it over and saw his contact name: Mathew Barzal.

And from his message, you knew that he knew it was you; Are you watching tonight?!

A small laugh escaped your lips as you sent back a simple, yeah!

Stop using exclamation marks, you scolded yourself.

But before you could overthink the one word you sent him, he responded instantly: Guess I’ll have to step up my game.

You bit your bottom lip to conceal your smile as you typed a message back to him. And for the next half hour, the two of you messaged back and forth about your days, Mat expressed his nervousness, you sent him a little motivational message, and then he said he had to go put his uniform on for warm ups.

There was still some time before puck drop, so you tried your best to busy yourself with tasks. You cleaned the kitchen, made a grocery list, and reorganized the books on your bookshelf. But no matter what you did, your thoughts circled back to Mat. And this time, you didn’t try to block them out, because you came to peace that he would always linger in the back of your mind.

He was there when you put away a mug––one that never rested evenly on a flat surface, due to a chip on the bottom, caused by Mat accidentally dropping it when hot water spilled over the top and burned his hand. There when you made the grocery list––because he would always leave it behind when you two would go to the store together. And there on your bookshelf––when you moved the hockey book he got you for your birthday.

His presence would always be tangled with yours, like a stubborn knot in a necklace that was impossible to disentangle.

You busied yourself by making tea, using the chipped mug, and turned on the game. The players were in their starting positions, and you saw Mat at the face off. Holding your breath, you said a little prayer, because you knew how nervous Mat got during a face off. He always said that he would turn the nerves into excitement to give him adrenaline, but you knew there was a tiny white lie in that.

But you watched the game, with your cup of tea to try and lessen the anxiety you felt, but it was of no use. While Mat was playing a fantastic game; you still cringed when he got smashed into the boards too rough, bounced your leg whenever he had the puck and an opposing defenseman came up on him, and shut one eye when he brought his stick back to shoot a goal.

Sixty minutes of hockey went by excruciatingly slow, but it was worth it, with the Islanders winning by two.

You shut the TV off, placed the mug on its side in the sink, and went to grab your phone off the charger. The game had not even ended fifteen minutes ago but there was a text from a Mathew Barzal on your screen.

With a deep breath, you unlocked your phone and read his message: Did the game meet your standards?

You let out a chuckle as you walked into your room while typing out your message; Nice goal.

The comment was going to inflate his ego, you could picture his wide smile and raised eyebrows in the locker room reading your message. And like how you messaged before the game, it lasted for quite some time; with Mat admitting he was more nervous with you watching, and you reassuring him he played an excellent game. When he finally had to shower, you wished him a safe ride home and he wished you a good night sleep.

While you still tossed and turned under your covers, you managed to get more sleep that night than you had in the last year.

–––

Two weeks later, Mat called you.

It was after a home game, one that the Islanders lost, and a game where Mat wracked up a few penalties. Like every hockey game of his you’d watched since you promised him that one night, he texted you not even fifteen minutes of being off the ice.

Can I call you?

You paced around in the living area of your apartment thinking of what to respond. You wanted to talk to him…You felt ready to talk to him, but there was still some hesitation. The two of you had branched out to texting each other even when there wasn’t a game scheduled, and he had yet to bring up wanting to talk about your relationship again. So part of you had an inkling he would try it over the phone if you agreed. But then there was the other part of you that knew he just wanted cheering up.

To have a little more time to psych yourself up for a phone call with him, you responded: Sure! But why don’t you shower and head home first.

He sent you––sounds good. I’ll call you––And you prepared yourself for Mat to take the fastest shower possible and to maybe break a few traffic laws to get back to his place.

The assumption you made turned out correct, because in just under an hour of Mat officially off the ice, there was an incoming call from a Mathew Barzal.

The phone vibrated in your hand a few times as you breathed in and out. But before his call went to your voicemail, you clicked accept, “Mat…” you started off slowly, “Hey.”

“Hi,” his voice was low as you heard his door shut. Neither one of you said anything, but you heard movements from his end. You heard him put his keys in the bowl by his front door, fling off his shoes, open another door––presumably his bedroom door––and heard the sound of blankets shifting. You imagined he was sitting on his bed, as he let out a deep sigh, “I played like shit.”

“No you didn’t,” your automatic instinct was to reassure him, “Everyone has their off days, it doesn’t mean that you’re a shit player.”

He groaned, and you heard a soft thump. You imagined he fell back on his mattress, staring up at the ceiling, “I just––Some of those calls they made on me––and how I tripped over my skates and ate shit with no one around me?” He let another deep sigh, “It was embarrassing.”

Thankfully, you had done your nighttime routine during the second period intermission. So while you listened to Mat list out all of the things he thought he had done wrong during the game, you slipped under the covers of your own bed.

“And then when I thought I scored a goal, but the puck hit the crossbar, and it came back to hit me in the face––”

“Mat, that’s an honest mistake––”

“But it was embarrassing!” He raised his voice out of irritation. And this time, you knew for a fact he wasn’t irritated with you…He was irritated at hockey, the one thing he loved most in the world. “I swear I could hear people laughing at me. And I just know that the media is going to write how I should be a better player because I was a first round draft pick and with how much money my contract is––”

“Mat,” his sentences were strung along, and you don’t think he took a single breath during his rant, so you cut him off, “You can’t always be a perfect player, but you were a first round pick for a reason. It might not have been the outcome you wanted, you played the best you could tonight.”

“But it wasn’t good enough.”

His negative self talk sounded eerily similar to the thoughts that swirled around your mind after the break up.

“How many other twenty-three year olds do you know that play professional hockey?”

“There’s Beau, Mitch Marner, Carter Hart, Matthew Tkachuk, Tyson––”

“Stop,” you harshly cut him off as you sat up in bed, taking a pillow and hugging it to your chest, “They don’t count because they’re like the one percent of people who make it to the NHL.” You tried to stress your point, “Like you, they’ve trained an insane amount to get where they are. But how many other people do that? And how many people do train for most of their life and still don’t get to play in the league you do?”

He was silent.

“The average twenty-three year old isn’t playing professional hockey,” you shut your eyes, because no matter how great of a hockey player you thought Mat was, he never had the same faith in himself, “The average person isn’t playing professional hockey. Mat, you’re an incredible player; honestly one of the best in the league right now. And it’s not just me saying that to make you feel better, just look at the Islanders stats from before and after you came along.”

Again, he stayed silent.

“You came into this league so young, but so talented. Sure, you still have things to learn, but you’re the best version of yourself you can be right now. And there’s still so much time for you to grow to be an even better player,” you let out a small breath, “It blows my mind how good you are. And some people might talk shit and say you played poorly, but if they were to be on the ice with you?”

You waited to see if he had anything to say, but when he stayed mute, you let out a soft chuckle, “If they––an average person––was on the ice with you they wouldn’t stand a chance.”

Mat let out a small laugh, and you imagined that he had one hand covering his eyes as he still laid on his back on top of his duvet, “Thank you.”

Unclenching the pillow you hugged closely to your chest, you slid down your headboard, and made yourself comfortable under the covers. You laid on your side, staring out your window at the same night sky he was under, and whispered, “I just wish you saw yourself the way I see you.”

You imagined he sat up, elbows resting on his knees as he pinched his bottom lip between his thumb and index finger, as his interest piqued, “And how’s that?”

“As someone who’s great at everything they do.”

It was silent on his end. But you expected that with how honest and instantaneous your answer came.

He cleared his throat, “Are you in bed?”

“Yeah,” you answered as you pulled the sheets up under your chin.

“I…” he let out a shaky breath, but whatever he wanted to say, he didn’t say it, “I still have to get ready for bed.”

“I won’t keep you.”

“We…” he started off slowly, and you imagined he stared at the wall in full concentration, and this time, he said half of whatever he wanted to say, “We should do this again.”

A small smile tugged the corners of your lips upward, “Talk?”

“Yeah, um, talk,” he let out a nervous laugh, and you imagined him rubbing a hand on the back of his neck, “On the phone…In person…”

You reciprocated his nervous laughter, but it wasn’t the bad kind of nerves you had felt in your stomach over the last year…this feeling reminded you of the excited nerves you had when you first met him, “You must really need more motivational talks,” you joked with him. But his answer, his honest and instantaneous answer, was not a joke.

“I feel like a better person around you.”

You were the silent one now.

“I’ll let you get to sleep,” his voice was soft and light, yet he sounded like he didn’t want to let you go, “Night, Y/N.”

“Goodnight, Mat.”

After he hung up, you imagined he slept with a smile on his face, just like you.

–––

February might be the shortest calendar month in the year, but it felt impossibly long.

Between late night phone calls with Mat after a game and texting whenever you had a free chance at work, your nerves never disappeared. They were a mix of an excited spark with a dash of anxiety that festered in the pit of your stomach, and only intensified when you saw his contact name pop up on your phone. Yet, the more you communicated with him, the more relaxed you felt. Laughter came more easily between you two, awkward pauses were few and far between, and you smiled more.

But part of you was still hesitant that he would leave unexpectedly like he did nearly a year and a half ago.

After phone calls and texts, March was the month you saw Mat in person for the first time since January. It was in a group setting, but it was planned with the intention of seeing each other. It was a group lunch––you sat next to him––and he occasionally knocked his knee against yours. He apologized every time, but you didn’t think his movements were an accident.

March had more group outings, more texts, and a lot more phone calls randomly throughout the day.

April was a little more different.

The spring air sent a chill down your spine as you walked toward the entrance of a sports bar with Kennady and a few other friends. It was another group outing, another pre-planned meeting where you would see Mat. Weaving your way through tables and standing patrons, you finally got to the high rise table your group was at. A mix of average twenty-something year-olds and hockey players; but Mat caught your eye first.

You saw him sitting on the barstool, hands wrapped around his beer glass as his index finger anxiously tapped the sweating glass. While he softly laughed along with friends who boisterously laughed, he didn’t look too enthralled with the conversation around him. But then he picked his head up and saw you.

A wide grin slowly spread across his face as he straightened out his slumped shoulders.

Everyone greeted each other with hugs, while you settled for waving. When people took their seats, coincidentally the only open seat was next to Mat. Easily, you slid in as he slid a drink in front of you.

“When you texted saying you were almost here, I ordered you a drink,” Mat whispered with a small smile, “I hope that’s alright.”

You picked up the glass with a tight lipped smile, “Yeah, of course, thank you,” you took a sip as he let out a nervous breath through his nose. You set the glass down on the table and angled your body in the chair to face him, “How was practice?”

“Got my ass handed to me,” he let out a breathy laugh, head hanging low as he shrugged his shoulders, “It was alright.”

While Mat had played excellent hockey since you started tuning in again, the past few games were rough. He kept missing easy plays, his shots went wide, he talked back to the referees more than usual, and had more penalties called on him. From your phone calls, you knew he felt uneasy––he admitted that to you––but whenever you pressed the topic further, he brushed it under the rug.

His avoidance of communicating his feelings gave you a sense of deja vu.

You picked a french fry off his plate, “You scored a nice goal last game though, surely Barry couldn’t have beaten you down that much.”

“I just need to get out of my head,” his eyes were far off, staring off into the distance over your shoulder. You wanted to press him further, wanted to know what was causing him distress in his head, but he changed the conversation. He completely changed his demeanor with a smile, as he swatted your hand away from his plate, “Stop stealing my fries.”

As a few fries dropped from your hand, you successfully managed to keep hold of a single fry. And with a proud smile, you popped it in your mouth, “You could’ve ordered me fries, but instead you bought me a drink.”

He gently laughed next to you as he inched toward the edge of his seat, his knees knocking against yours. “Sorry.” he lied with a smile he couldn’t contain.

You raised your eyebrows and purposefully knocked your knee against his in retaliation, “No you’re not.”

He picked up a fry and threw it at you.

The night continued as it had, conversing with friends, and also going back into your own little world with Mat. Throughout the evening, while he held steady conversation with people from across the table, he occasionally knocked his knee into yours. And when you bumped him back, a smile stretched across his face as he maintained eye contact with whoever he talked to.

Everything about the night felt easy until the first hiccup happened.

You and Mat were off in your own little world again, facing each other on your barstools, knees knocking against each other, as he talked about an article that reminded him of you.

“I have to send it to you,” he shook his head with laughter, as he scrolled through his phone, “Just by the title I knew I had to show you, but wanted to wait until I saw you in person to see your reaction.”

You felt your stomach flip at his admission. He wanted to see your reaction. And based on how giddy he looked as he searched for the article to text it to you, he thought your reaction would be similar to his. He wanted to see you smile.

Your phone vibrated on the table as it lit up with his contact name; Mathew Barzal.

When you opened your phone, you let out a laugh when you saw the article populate with an image. It was definitely an article you would enjoy, and when you brought your gaze back up to Mat, a smile wide on your face, you noticed his giddy look was gone. It was replaced with a more contemplative look with his eyes locked in on your phone screen.

Your smile slowly faded away as you knocked your knee against his, “What’s up?”

He left you unanswered as he kept his stare on your phone until the screen turned black. He picked his head up to look at you, a frown on his face, “You changed my contact name,” you sat frozen in your seat, “and took away the  picture.”

His words registered with you, but all you heard was ringing in your ears.

Because yes, you changed his contact name and removed the picture of him. His name went from just Mat, with a hockey stick emoji, to his full name after the breakup. And his contact picture, one Tito took of him in lounge wear in a hotel room at an away game on the phone––talking to you––with his head tipped back in laughter, was now just MB in a gray circle.

Did he still have your contact name and picture the same in his phone?

“I––”

“It’s no big deal,” he shrugged his shoulders and tried his best to smile. But the corners of his lips barely turned upward, “I shouldn’t have said anything.”

You didn’t know how to respond to his observation, so you stared at him with your lips slightly parted and eyes wide. Mat tried to show another smile, but his lips just formed a straight line. You wanted to tell him you were sorry; that you had to change those details or else you would cry whenever you looked at your phone. But you didn’t know how to verbalize that without breaking down in front of him as the painful memories of stripping Mat away from your life replayed in your mind.

This was the longest silence you sat in with him since January.

Mat slowly shifted his knees away from yours and as you continued to stare at his side profile. He joined in on a conversation with Tito and someone else, but you had no idea what they were talking about. All you thought about were Mat's forehead creases, his glossy eyes full of despair, and the frown still present on his face.

Reluctantly, you turned away from him and found yourself listening in to a different conversation, but all you could pay attention to was Mat’s slumped posture in your peripheral vision.

An hour later, another round of drinks were bought, and everyone was still having a good time with lots of laughter and smiles present. Except your smile was forced and you couldn’t hear Mat’s laugh.

But then you felt someone knock their knee against yours.

You dropped your vision down and saw Mat’s knee an inch away from yours. Thinking that this time, he knocked his knee against yours on accident, you kept quiet. But then you saw him knock his knee against yours again, with his knee resting against yours for an extra few seconds, you looked up at him.

A small hopeful smile was on Mat’s face.

Mirroring his shy smile, you ducked your chin into your chest as you felt butterflies in your stomach.

You knocked your knee against his.

Both of your smiles brightened, and just when Mat opened his mouth to say something, someone clapped a hand on Mat’s shoulder. He looked surprised at the contact, but when you heard the TV behind your table report on the top hockey highlights of the week––with the announcer commenting on Mathew Barzal’s goal––the table erupted into obnoxious cheers. Mat’s face went beet red as he shied away from the praise his friends offered.

After the rowdiness at the table calmed down, you knocked your knee against Mat’s as he picked up his beer. He raised his eyes up to look at you, a small smile making its way onto his face as he took a sip of his drink. When he placed his glass back on the wooden table, he knocked his knee against yours.

“Why are you acting so shy,” you let out a small laugh, because in all of the time you’d known Mat, he craved the attention and praise that came with being a hockey player.

He shrugged his shoulders, tapping his fingers against the table, “The compliments get to be too much sometimes.”

You shut your eyes tight as you tilted your head back in laughter. And when you opened your eyes, Mat was looking at you with gentle eyes full of fondness, “Stop lying.”

There were still some small laughs coming from you, but when Mat took your statement literally, your laughter ceased.

“I like the compliments more when they come from you,” he said with a serious facial expression, “Your words mean the most to me.”

You looked into his eyes; ones that were full of regret as it looked like he was retracing the steps of how your relationship came to this point. How it went from two people who were so in love with each other, in the most idyllic relationship…to people who painfully avoided each other for nearly a year, people whose voices wavered with skepticism when they spoke to each other, and to people who still loved each other but didn’t know how to reconcile.

Sometimes you thought it would be easier not to know him, in turn that you could forget about the heartbreak he caused you. But that thought was always easily diminished; the love you felt when you were with him were the most joyous moments of your life that you wouldn’t trade for anything in the world.

Well…Maybe one thing.

If you could trade those early days of happiness to fall in love with him all over again––and not experience any heartbreak––you would do it in a heartbeat.  

Mat cleared his throat, “You don’t…” he offered you a small smile that didn’t reach his eyes, “You don’t have to say anything. I just wanted to let you know how I felt.”

With a nod of your head, you bit the inside of your cheek as you felt your throat tighten up. To alleviate some of the tension in the air, you took a sip of your drink. And when you tore your eyes away from Mat to look at the table, you saw that the table was empty, save for you and Mat.

You didn’t know the last time just the two of you sat at the same table alone.

“Where did everyone go?” You turned your head to face Mat with a tilt of your head.

He shrugged his shoulders, “I think they’re off getting more drinks.”

You chuckled and faked offense, “And they didn’t ask us what we wanted?”

Again, he shrugged his shoulders, as he turned his head over to look at the bar where everyone stood. When he turned back to look in your eyes, you could see the wheels turning behind his head as he thought.

“We could get our own drinks…” He said slowly, eyes shining full of hope as he leaned in toward you, “Somewhere else…” and the next word he added, voice dangerously low in a whisper, sent more shivers down your spine than the spring breeze, “Alone.”

It wasn’t the first time Mat took your breath away, and without thinking of any possible consequence, you nodded your head once, “Yeah.”

“Yeah?” He raised an eyebrow at you, the signature grin on his face was contagious as you smiled back, nodding your head even more rapidly. He quickly looked over his shoulder to see where your friends were, and then when he turned back to you, he smirked, “I think we have less than thirty seconds before they come back.”

As if the two of you communicated telepathically, you jumped off the barstools at the same time and walked at a brisk pace toward the doors. Once the two of you were safely outside and at the street corner, both of you doubled over in laughter.

“Did we ditch our friends?” You looked up at Mat who clutched his stomach.

He nodded his head, “Wouldn’t be the first time.”

Instead of painfully remembering all the times the two of you would duck out early from a party to spend time together, you remembered them with a smile and a laugh.

Once your laughter subsided, you straightened your posture and slid your hands in to your jacket pockets, “Where to?”

“Hadn’t thought that far ahead yet,” he apologetically smiled, “There are some bars a few blocks down.” He suggested as he raised his wrist to look at his watch. His eyes widened slightly, “Shit, it’s late. We’ll either make it right before last call or miss it entirely.”

You stood in silence as you saw the wheels behind his head turning in thought again. It looked like he had come up with another place to walk to, but he looked uneasy as he suggested it, “There is…another place.”

Your curiosity sounded too hopeful, “Where?”

Mat looked down at his shoes, scuffing them against the pavement, before looking back up at you in uncertainty. He took a deep breath, “My apartment.”

Your eyes widened at his suggestion. 

His apartment.

The apartment where you had your last moments as a couple right before he broke up with you. Were you ready to go back? Did you want to go back? Because there was no doubt in your mind that going there would unlock more memories of when you were the happiest with Mat. But if you wanted to progress in anything––in a friendship––with Mat, you needed to get over the little fears you overdramatized in your head.

“We don’t have to,” Mat was quick to backtrack the offer of his apartment, “I know that’s where we––But I––I have drinks there. It’s not a far walk, and we won’t have to worry about getting into a place. But I understand if you don’t want to––”

“Let’s go,” you sucked in a deep breath and nodded your head the same time Mat’s eyes widened with shock, “It’ll be easier.”

“Are you sure?”

You took another deep breath and lied, “Positive.”

Mat didn’t look convinced, but he wasn't going to press you any further. So, with a nod of his head, he gestured toward the way of his apartment like you didn’t already know, “This way.”

The walk to his place wasn’t far at all, in fact, it was most likely closer than any of the bars you would definitely not make it to in time. So his apartment was a safe option as the two of you walked in silence. It wasn’t an awkward silence, but the two of you were replaying the last time you were both in his apartment.

Once you arrived at the building, Mat waved at the doorman––whose eyes brightened at you with recognition––as he hit the up button on the elevator. The ride up was just as silent as the walk to his place, and when you stood in front of the door to his place, your palms began to sweat.

Maybe this wasn’t the best idea.

But you stuck it through, and when Mat unlocked the door and let you in first, a wave of nostalgia hit you like a ton of bricks. Everything was the same, albeit a bit messier, but it felt almost like you were back in a home again.

“Sorry, I wasn’t expecting anyone to come over,” Mat let out a nervous laugh as he walked past you and picked some of his belongings up that were strewn across the floor.

You waved him off, heading over to the living room area, and folded a blanket for him, “Don’t worry about it.”

You heard Mat let out an anxious deep breath as you watched him turn around and head into the kitchen. He seemed just as nervous as you. When he was out of sight, you set the unevenly folded blanket down on the ottoman and walked over to the couch. You sunk down and let out a shaky breath that you had been holding in since you walked through the front door.

You didn’t have much time to dwell in your thoughts, because you heard Mat’s footsteps, and sat up straight on the couch. He came around the other side of the couch with a beer bottle in one hand for him, and then a wine glass and a wine bottle, for you. He set his beer and wine glass down on the coffee table as he took a seat next to you.

“As your bartender for the night,” he sarcastically said as he took the wine opener and screwed it into the cork of the bottle, “I expect a very nice tip for bringing your drink to you.” You laughed at his comment to lighten the mood, but all you could focus on was the way his arms flexed when he twisted the corkscrew around a few times, “I even provided you with a whole bottle of wine just for yourself.”

You let out a small laugh, “Lucky me,” you whispered just as Mat looked up at you through his eyelashes.

He offered you a small smile, and then went back to concentrating on opening the wine. When the corkscrew was in the center of the cork, he pressed his hands down on the miniature levers, and the bottle opened with pop.

He looked up at you with a proud smile and eyebrows raised proudly, “Eh?” He asked you as he poured you a glass, “You should be impressed.”

You snorted, “That you opened a wine bottle?”

“Mhm,” Mat hummed as he handed you the glass. You offered him a smile as a thanks, as he grabbed his beer and rested an arm on the back of the couch, “And that I didn’t spill any of it.”

With a roll of your eyes, you took a sip of wine, as your mind pieced together that you were drinking your favorite type of wine. That led to a flurry of questions in your mind because why––after all this time––would he still keep your favorite bottle of wine at his place?

But Mat asked you about how your presentation at work went before you were able to bring it up.

Much like the time spent at the sports bar earlier, it was all laughter and smiles, except this time you weren’t under the scrutinizing gaze of Kennady or the hesitant glances of Tito. It was just you and Mat, alone in his apartment, as if no time had passed. With every twenty minutes that went by, it felt as if Mat would move a tiny bit closer to you. You didn’t mind at all, and when he was close enough, you knocked your knee against his.

It was well past midnight, and you were still enjoying yourself the same as you did when you first walked in. The bottle of wine was nearly empty; Mat joining in on the wine drinking after he finished his beer.

Everything about the time spent at Mat’s place felt easy until the second hiccup of the night happened.

Mat placed his empty wine glass down on the coffee table and let out a deep breath through his nose. His face looked serious; eyebrows pinched together that caused a crease to form between his eyes, mouth pressed in a straight line, with his eyes firmly concentrated on you. The look made your stomach uneasy, so you finished off the last of your wine, and sat it down next to Mat’s empty glass.

You let out an apprehensive laugh as you leaned your side into the back of the couch, just below where Mat’s hand rested, “What’s on your mind, hockey player?”

With his hand so close to your shoulder, he stretched out his fingers and lightly grazed your shoulder. He gently moved his fingertips along your shoulder blade a few times before he gulped, “Can I tell you something?”

“Of course,” you breathed out as a chill ran down your spine.

Both of your bodies were facing each other as he moved an inch closer to you. While his fingertips withdrew from your shoulder, he knocked his knee against yours. But instead of retracting it like he had done all night, he kept his knee against yours. With another deep breath through his nostrils, he inched closer to you again, his thigh pressing against yours.

You held your breath as you stared into his yearning eyes, and like he was telling you a secret, he whispered, “Sometimes you feel like a stranger.”

Your eyes widened, stunned at his confession. You were at a loss for words, but luckily you didn’t have to respond, because he expounded upon his admission.

“And it…It’s so frustrating,” his voice was low as he maintained eye contact with you; his soft eyes full of longing stared into your wide and timid eyes as his fingertips reached back down to touch your shoulders. But instead of just staying in one place, his fingertips trailed down to your collarbone, “I know how you relax after a stressful day,” his fingers slowly moved to the side of your neck as he let out a soft chuckle, “I know how you organize a closet.” HIs fingers moved painfully slow up your neck, “I know the facial expressions you make when you’re nervous…”

You clenched your jaw, as your breathing hitched, and you slightly tilted your head to the side to give his fingers more room to wander.

Mat traced his fingers along your jawline as he leaned his face closer to you, “I know what makes you happy,” you felt his breath fan against your face as his fingers caressed your cheek, “What pisses you off.” He kept his mouth in a straight line, jaw slightly clenched, as he moved his fingers to the back of your neck, cupping your cheek. He kept quiet, the only noise in the apartment that could be heard was your own heartbeat and Mat’s breathing.

Finally, he rested his forehead against yours as he slightly brushed the tip of his nose against yours. You kept your eyes wide open in anticipation, as Mat closed his eyes for a moment. He let out a shaky breath before slowly opening his eyes to look at you with an amount of adoration you’d never seen before, “How to love you.”

“We’re friends.”

“No we’re not,” his voice was strained with irritation. But this time, the irritation in his voice wasn’t directed at either you or hockey…his irritation was at himself, “All I want is to love you again but you’re so far away.” He let out a self-deprecating laugh and muttered, “You’re a stranger who I know better than anyone else.”

You brushed your nose against his, eyes glancing down at his lips, before looking back into his wistful eyes, “I’m right here.”

With your lips parted and breath shallow; the tone of your voice hinted at what you wanted to come next.

“If I were to kiss you,” Mat’s low voice murmured as he laid out his intentions, “Would you stay?”

“Yes.”

There was no wavering hesitation in your voice, only desire for the person in front of you who you’d spent too much time without. But Mat…Mat blinked a few times as his tongue darted out to wet his lips, staring at you as if he didn’t believe this was real life. The pull you felt toward him was stronger than any pull you felt toward anyone else. There was something in him that made him irresistible, he felt it in you as well, and he couldn’t wait any longer.

Eyes closed, Mat pressed his lips against yours, desperate but chaste as you tasted the wine off him, both of you holding yourselves back for each other's sake. He rubbed his lips against yours, urging you to tip your head back. You leaned into his direction as your fingers carefully crept toward his stomach, clutching his shirt into a small fist.

The tip of his tongue peeked out in a quick stripe across your lower lip, and a strangled whimper in the back of your throat involuntarily left your lips. With his nose against your cheek, he took his hand that cupped your cheek, and ran it down your back. His palm and the tips of his fingers gliding across the expanse of your back; feeling every ridge of your spine, every bone, every dip, and every curve.

Ever so slowly, his hand trailed up your back, over your neck, as he cupped your cheek again. He deepened the kiss, tongues meeting with soft strokes, mouths hot with anticipation and need.

You had kissed Mat more times than you could count, but both of your movements were timid. While he had a hand on your cheek, his other hand laid stiff on the couch. And while your hands gripped his shirt, they weren’t physically touching him. There were so many thoughts circling your mind; how you never thought you’d be in this position again with Mat––having him want you again.

That’s when the first tear fell.

It had officially been a year and a half since your break up with Mat. A year and a half since you felt any sort of honest affection from a person. And it had only been about three months since you started to openly communicate with him again. It had taken you longer to watch a hockey game than it took for you to speak to him regularly again; longer to gain the courage to watch him skate in circles with a smile on his face because you knew he was happiest on the ice.

Happier there than he could ever be with you.

You broke away from his kiss with a sniffle.

Mat delicately pecked your lips one last time before pulling away. Your eyes were still shut tight, but you felt his burning stare on your face as his thumb wiped away the single tear from your cheek.

The second tear fell when he repeated the sentence that you didn’t know held any truth.

“You know I’d do anything for you.”

As if you were transported in time, you smelled the April air of two years ago seeping through the open car windows as Mat whispered that promise to you as he kissed your hand. But the other memory…The cruel and poignant memory that overshadowed the good memory of that sentence took over. Instead of the sweet April air, your mind fast forwarded to the month of December where the air was frigid and eliminated your relationship.

You sucked in another deep breath as you opened your eyes to get you out of the headspace of that bitter December day. Mat’s eyes were desperate––silently begging you not to go––as if he knew you were planning an escape.

“I can’t do this,” you dropped your hands from his shirt and moved away from him on the couch.

“Will you ever be ready to do this?” Mat’s voice shook, but he was withstanding from surrendering. You could now see the athlete in him––the dedication he used to train to attain all of his goals––coming out as he fought to mend your relationship, “I want to talk.”

Your hands shook just as bad as your voice, “I can’t.”

For the countless time tonight, Mat let out an irritated breath through his nostrils, “When will you be ready?”

“I don’t know.”

Mat leaned his head against the back of the couch as he rubbed his temples, “Don’t you miss this?” He turned his head to look at you, his bloodshot eyes noticeable in the dim lighting of his living room, “Don’t you miss us?”

“You broke up with me,” you reminded him as you flared your nostrils in annoyance, “You gave up on us.”

“I was confused!” Mat sat up and angled his body toward you as he threw his hands in the air, “I wanted to be with you––Still want to be with you––But something was off and I had to––”

The deja vu of Mat listing off reasons why something in the relationship wasn’t right––and how his judgement convinced himself that getting away from you would solve everything––caused bile to churn in your stomach.

You placed both hands on the cushions as you pushed yourself up, “I’m not doing this again.”

With your back to him, you itched the bridge of your nose as you sniffled away your runny nose. But even with your back to him, you could still hear the desperation and utter heartache behind his wavering voice.

“You told me I would end up alone and unloved,” you heard him inhale a shaky breath, all the confidence from his previous tone of voice gone, as he choked out his next words, “The one person who I love most in the world told me that––The person who I thought loved me––”

“I do––”

“Told me I would be unloved? That not even you could love me again if I didn’t put more effort into the right things?” You spun around on your heel to see a silent path of tears easily falling down his face, “Do you know how much that messed me up?”

“You told me I wasn’t enough,” you counteracted with just as desperate of a voice, “You told me––”

“We just didn’t see each other enough,” Mat’s words continued to cut you like a knife, “But I never said you would end up alone and––”

“Because I don’t want anyone else to love you!” your devastated tone matched his raised voice. His mouth slowly dropped open, “I loved you so much and you tore me apart.” You felt your throat tighten up, but you held back your tears as your voice cracked, “I wanted to be the last person to love you.”

Mat sat in silence on the couch as you stood a few feet away from him. Silences were never common in your relationship, but they were definitely more common now. Coming to terms in your head that he wasn’t going to say anything, you were about to turn around and make your way out of his apartment for the final time.

“Stay,” Mat stood up from the couch. His hand barely raised from his side, as if he wanted to reach out to keep you from leaving him, but his arm stayed stiff at his side, “It’s after two in the morning, I’ll take the couch and you can sleep in my bed.”

“I’m not far from here,” you crossed your arms over your chest, “I can get an Uber.”

“Then I’ll take the Uber with you to your place.”

You let out a deep breath at his persistence, “That’s unnecessary––”

“Believe it or not,” Mat started his sentence out strong, but he took a pause and let his shoulders deflate as his tone softened, “I still really care for you and don’t want you in an Uber alone this late or walking up to your place alone. So please,” you hated the way your heart melted at his words, “Stay.”

You pulled your bottom lip between your teeth as you thought about his proposal. He had a point…Ubers alone at night in New York wasn’t the most ideal situation in the world. And you knew he would hop in the car with you; he always held your safety high on his priority list.

With a defeated sigh, you nodded your head, “Okay.”

Mat let out a relieved breath, “You can…You know where everything is,” Mat awkwardly rubbed a hand behind his neck, “Everything’s the same.”

Except us, you thought to yourself.

You asked Mat if he had to get anything from his room, but he said he had some stuff stored in the spare bedroom where he would get ready for bed. And for what may be the last time, you wished each other goodnight as the two of you walked to separate ends of his apartment.

You blocked out every memory that swirled around your head as you entered his room and got ready for bed. Everything was going fine until you opened the cabinet under the sink and saw that he still had an unopened bottle of your shampoo that you always kept at his place. But you were done crying. Done crying over Mat. So you closed the cabinet, regretfully changed into one of Mat’s oversized t-shirts for pajamas, and slid under his covers.

With the sheets pulled up right under your chin, you laid on your side in a fetal position, as you stared out his window. There weren’t any stars in the sky, but instead of being in your bed and thinking about what Mat was up to when you couldn’t sleep, all you had to do was walk down the hall.

You tried everything you could to fall asleep, but none of the methods you usually used worked. Even when you stayed in separate bedrooms when Mat met your family for the first time, similarly down the hall from each other, you didn’t have any trouble sleeping like tonight. But back then, you and Mat were together in love. And this time…you and Mat were somehow still in love, but further apart than ever.

Fed up with not being able to get a decent night’s sleep in over a year, you flung the covers off and stepped out of bed, because you knew the cure to your insomnia was just a few feet away. Slowly, you opened the bedroom door and snuck out. You quietly closed the door and made your way to the living area where Mat said he was.

And in a few seconds you saw Mat, whose face was illuminated by his phone from above head as he scrolled. The single blanket he had only came up about halfway to his bare stomach.

As if he sensed another presence in the room, he turned his head. With an empathetic smile, because you imagined he had the same trouble falling asleep in this past year as well, he shut his phone off and placed it on the coffee table. Without a word, he lifted the blanket up, inviting you to sleep next to him.

You crawled in next to him, the side of your face pressed up against the crook of his neck. You let out a silent, uneven, breath as you felt his warmth spread across your body. And when he lowered the blanket, he curled a tight arm around waist, drawing shapes on your back as he held you close to him.

And the third tear fell when Mat pressed a firm kiss to your forehead and whispered, “I’m sorry.”

A year and a half of sobbing didn’t compare to the flood gates that opened up in this moment. Your senses were in overdrive, everything screamed Mat, and that one little forehead kiss paired with a simple apology tipped you over the edge. He held you tight as you cried into his chest, taking responsibility for the suffering he had put you through the past year and a half.

One of your arms was tucked under you, but your other arm was stretched across Mat’s chest as you clung to his bicep. Your shoulders violently shook as you muttered incoherent words out through choppy breaths.

You hurt me, you said. I know, he answered.

I never wanted to see you again, you said. I know, he answered.

I missed you so much, you said. I know, he answered.

I still love you, you said. And as your cries began to soften, he cradled you into his chest more as he pressed another gentle kiss to your forehead; I still love you too, he answered.

It was the first night both of you slept soundly through the night, missing all of your alarms.

–––

New York in August was unbearably hot.

Between the larger than life gray skyscrapers and dark concrete that paved the city, the heat of the sun always got trapped in the most unpleasant way. With crowded sidewalks of people pressed shoulder to shoulder, the heat attached itself to sweaty bodies. With sewers that always smelled, but reeked even worse in the summer, the heat attached itself to the polluted water.

But if you paid close enough attention, there was a certain aroma in the air that always drew people into the city. And like how the skyscrapers and concrete trapped the heat in the most unpleasant way, the sweet smell of new beginnings that New York offered trapped people in the same way.

Walking down the sidewalk, with your fingers intertwined with Mat’s, you breathed in the captivating smell of New York.

The smell of new beginnings.

“Are you nervous or is the heat getting to you,” You looked up at Mat’s side profile with a smile as you pointed out his sweaty hand.

With black sunglasses covering his eyes, he kept his head forward as he chewed on his bottom lip, “It’s your family.”

You rolled your eyes as you came to the end of the sidewalk, waiting at the corner for the light to change, “You know them already.”

“Yeah, but––”

His words were cut off when the light changed and a mass amount of people crossed the street. You tugged him along with the crowd, “No buts,” you squeezed his hand, “They still love you.”

Mat shrugged his shoulders.

He knew the pain he caused when he broke up with you. And he knew that your mom, dad, and sister all witnessed the aftermath of what he put you through. There was part of him that would never forgive himself for acting so immature, and he was still working through his insecurities. But after that night of confrontation where you slept peacefully in his arms, he promised to always be upfront with his feelings.

You had been officially back together for four months, and made changes from the first time you were in a relationship, but Mat’s nerves surrounding your family were still present.

Your sister was the first to find out that you and Mat were back together. You hadn’t even gotten the chance to tell her before she figured it out not even a month into your rekindled relationship. She called you out of the blue, and before you could greet her, she went straight to the point; Are you back together with Mat? You were a stuttering mess, not prepared to tell your family; You liked Tito’s most recent Instagram picture, your username came up next to the heart, and I know you unfollowed him after you weren’t with Mat.

Her sleuthing wasn’t that impressive, but you couldn’t lie to your sister. She warned you that a few more jokes would come at his expense to turn him red.

You told your mom in June. You had let it casually slip that you were going out with Mat for the day, and she was silent on the other end for a few moments. Like any mother who held their child as they openly sobbed after the end of a relationship, she was skeptical. But you reassured her that changes were made, and continue to be made, so it wouldn't end like the last time…So your relationship wouldn’t end at all.

She said as long as you were happy, she was happy.

You also told your dad in June, a week after you told your mom, because you knew she wouldn’t be able to hold onto that secret for long. It took a bit more planning and practicing on your end to tell him. You saw the way his jaw clenched and eyes full of hurt whenever he saw you cry. And when you told him, he sounded stiff, and reminded you that you were too good for him. But like your mom, you reassured him that things had changed; Mat had changed.

He reminded you that he never liked Mat that much to begin with.

When you and Mat reached the restaurant you were set to meet your family at, Mat opened the door for you. A breeze of air conditioning and the smell of clean air brought you out of your thoughts.

"Your dad’s already glaring at me and we’re not at the table yet.”

You let out a laugh and rested your forehead against Mat’s bicep briefly as you looked up at him with a smile, “Don’t worry, I talked to him plenty before this and told him to be on his best behavior.”

Mat took his sunglasses off, and as he stared down at you, you finally caught a look at his hazel eyes that shined bright with admiration for you, “Surprisingly, that doesn’t make me feel better.”

You dropped his hand and elbowed him at his sarcastic comment.

“Finally, you’re here,” your sister was the first one up from her seat to greet you with a hug.

You hugged her back tightly, “We’re on time, you guys got here early.”

She held you at arms length away and gave you a knowing look saying that of course they were going to show up early. It was the re-meeting the boyfriend lunch. She slightly gazed over your shoulder at Mat, who was politely talking with your mom, and you rolled your eyes silently telling her he was more nervous than the first time. She deviously smirked.

With a stiff handshake and a curt, Mathew, from your dad, you knew Mat felt as if he was drowning.

Appetizers and a bottle of wine were ordered for the table before you and Mat were present, so they arrived shortly after the two of you were seated next to each other. Like the first time Mat was around your family, he sat with perfect posture as he rapidly tapped his index finger against his thigh.

You discreetly scooted your chair closer to his.

Mat had just finished his first glass of water when your mom brought up hockey, “How did this season go, Mat?”

“It went well,” he answered as he took the water pitcher from the center of the table and poured himself another glass, “There were a few times we went up and down in ranking, but all in all, it was a strong season.”

“I watched a few highlights,” your dad said after he finished swallowing an appetizer, “You played well, especially towards the end of the season.”

Mat shyly smiled, his eyes glancing at you, because toward the end of the season was when you started communicating more, “Yeah, the end of the season was the best.”

You knocked your knee against Mat’s.

“And almost made it to the Cup again,” your dad shook his head with a light smile, “How’s the team looking this season?”

Mat took a sip of water, “We’re looking good. A few changes to the roster, but all for the best.” He fiddled with the white cloth napkin on his lap, “If you guys––I don’t know the next time you’re in town, but just let me know if you want to go to a game.” Mat smiled at your dad, and then turned to your mom, “I know my family wants to come down for a game.”

Your mom’s eyes lit up, “Oh, that would be wonderful!”

“Thanks, Mat,” your dad easily smiled, “I appreciate that.”

Mat shrugged his shoulders, a smile slowly growing on his face as your dad called him by his nickname, “I know how much you all like hockey, might as well use me for what I’m good for.”

Your parents laughed at his comment right as the waiter came up to take everyone’s order for their main course. You, Mat, and your sister had ordered, so your parents weren’t paying attention to your little trio.

“So, Mat,” your sister stretched out the lone vowel in his name, “Looks like you won the girl back before your franchise could win the Stanley Cup.”

Your eyes widened at her bluntness. It was always hard for a team to be so close to clinching that championship title––and well deserved praise as they lifted the Cup above their heads––only for it to be ripped away from them. And for the Islanders to be in that position another year, losing in the final round, it only aided in more salt to the wound.  

Mat’s face still turned red at her unapologetic comment, but he recovered quickly, and wasn’t nearly as blindsided by her words like he was the first time. Instead, Mat offered your sister an easy smile, as he quickly made eye contact with you. His smile widened, “I think I won something better.”

Mat knocked his knee against yours.

[barznasty]

MATHEW BARZAL

@barzzal

between halls and thin walls (series)

@holy-pucks

breed

@hockeylvr59

bruises (2)

@hookingminor

calling all my lovelies

@hockeywhy

caught in the middle (series)

@idontgiveaflyinggrayson69

dive mon petit sex (with my ex)

@keepy-uppy

girl next door

@plasticfilth

hurts so good

@devil-in-those-eyes

reasons

MATTHEW TKACHUK

@davidpastrsnack

back for more

@troubatrain

bad behavior

@letstalkabouthockey

consequences (series)

@barfzal

dreamin’ slow

@linasobsessions

our journey

@twinklelilstarkey

relieved

@baevillier

serve and protect

@thebluenoteblog

temperamental

SIDNEY CROSBY

@barzzal

call me crosby (series) take me as i am

@oleksiaksjamie

forever and almost always

@nhl-imagines-posts

nhl ex-boyfriends

@holy-pucks

on display

ANTHONY BEAUVILLIER

@matbarzyy

bliss i’m yours

JAMIE OLEKSIAK

@twinklelilstarkey

flirting warmth

TYLER SEGUIN

@thebluenoteblog

just trust me

NOLAN PATRICK

@butgilinsky

i’ve been looking for you

[matbaerzal]

What I’m picturing is that he spanks your clit, gets the spatula nice and wet and then he licks it afterwards 👀 is too late to request this as fic?? 🙏🏼🙏🏼 I was not prepared for this

sis please write a blurb on the spatula thing lmao that is a amazing

I couldn’t possibly-

When you teased Mat about how you never thought you’d see him moving around in his kitchen, wearing an apron, baking a cake, you never imagined the consequence of your words.

One second he’s jokingly spanking your ass with his spatula.

Then the the moan you couldn’t help made his eyes dark, forgetting all about the cake he was supposed to make.

The tone of the room changed completely as his hands moved you to bend over the counter. “Now, you’re not being very nice to me, are you?”

He spanks you harder this time, but through your leggings it’s not enough - you need more.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about” you put on your most innocent voice

He doesn’t hesitate to pull your leggings halfway down to your thighs, giving you just what you need as he pulls panties down too.

The next slap is loud, the sting against your bare skin making you bite your lip.

“I think you know exactly what you did, and you think I’m going to give you what you want - but you’re wrong” he leans down to speak into your ear, kissing your neck sweetly.

He spreads your legs as much as he can, “gonna put this thing to good use” he says to himself eyeing the spatula in his hand.

He’s curious as he slides it over your skin, he hums to himself before you feel him put it between your legs - travelling slowly up your thigh.

You can’t put words to the sensation when he slides the silicone through your folds, and you start to wonder what he meant when he said you wouldn’t be getting what you wanted - because so far, you were having a great time

Just as your hips start to buck he removes the spatula, just as fast as it’s gone, the flat end of it slaps against your clit making you moan out louder than before

“You like that?” He spanks your clit, not once but three more times.

“Fuck- yes”

Another sting against your clit makes your mind hazy, and then he’s rubbing it again, coating the spatula with your arousal.

You’re nearing your high when he removes the spatula again, making you whimper desperately.

Then he slides your panties and leggings back up, turning you around just in time to see him lick the spatula clean of your juices - groaning at your taste.

You can’t believe he just left you like that, mouth agape, brows furrowed in frustration.

He taps your chin, kissing your lips shortly - completely ignoring your state.

“Wanna help me bake this cake, or?”

Add this to the list of things I did know I wanted 👁👄👁 (Tagging @generallybarzy @barzzal @idontgiveaflyinggrayson69 & @thirteenisles because this is partially your fault)

[generallybarzy]

Hi!! This year has been crazy, okay? But despite everything happening outside in the world and on here, and despite the fact that this is only my first year following hockey with this blog, I’ve managed to make so many friends on here that I absolutely cherish and will continue to cherish. Obviously there are way too many amazing people on here for me to remember all of them, but here’s a masterpost of some beautiful people I’ve come to follow in the past year and who've made me feel so welcomed in the hockey community on tumblr when i feel super lonely irl. I hope everyone here is around to continue to see me grow in the coming year. I truly can't believe the community I'm a part of!!! First, some lovely people who can always be found in my messgaes 😌:

@softboybarzal: YOU. tiia I love you so much. I don’t know when we became mutuals but i’ve been so much happier ever since. You always manage to help me out when I’m overthinking or in a bad place and I appreciate our talks more than you can ever imagine. Thank you for always letting me rant to you and helping me come back to reality. 

@fallinallincurls: BRE first of all your blog was the reason I started listening to shawn mendes asdfgh so thank you sm. And I always come to you first about my fics and just talking about cute soft things in general. But it’s not just fic talk, you make me !! You always cheer me up when i see you in my messages :)

@canadianheaters: OKAY we have the craziest conversations (see bodypillow!mat and monkeysuit!mat) and i literally know I’m in for a treat every time we start talking. Chaotic horniness in these messages lmaooo. 

@folkloreflyers: bitch (affectionate) you convinced me to get a flyers jersey :)))))). anyway ily so much and I don’t remember when we first talked but you always show me your moodboards which are FIRE. You talk about those cricket boys you like and i have no idea what/who they are but ily go off queen

@dembenchboys: Babyyyyyy we just started talking recently but I want you to know i love you so much and i appreciate everytime I see you in my messages and I’m sorry for not responding on tuesday I deadass fell asleep after reading it :( I hope we continue talking into the new year :)

I appreciate seeing your messages in my pms all the time, it literally makes my day, and I hope we all continue talking into the new year and for many more years to come!!!

And now a bunch of amazing people I follow in absolutely random order: 

@matbaerzal, @mbarzals, @thirteenisles, @royaltyofhockeylosers, @mathewbaezal, @fratboytj , @tseggy, @pucksnsticksnhockeyboys, @nyisles, @zuucc, @tkachukme, @matthewtkafuck @slimskjei-dy, @hookingminor, @davidpastrsnack, @softgrantaire, @barzysstuff, @theoriginalsmutpeasant, @tkafuckit, @puckshitbitch, @barzal-mat, @fraction-of-a-flying-puck, @plasticfilth, @leafsbabe, @bestestbenn, @kempe, @fallinallincurls , @softboybarzal , @charlie-theangelwrites , @folkloreflyers, @barzzal, @probablybarzy13, @bigboigritty, @comphybiscuit, @dembenchboys, @danglesnipecelly, @buildingbrock, @broadstbroskis, @canadianheaters , @ayohockeycheck, @nazdaddy, @beau-est-beau, @kirbysdch, @fraction-of-a-flying-puck, @jamiedrysdales, @nathanbeaulieu, @aereres, 🥔 anon, 💙 anon, and all you other lovelies i have 💕💕💕💕😌

I'm sure I missed some people, but I seriously love everyone on here and I can't believe that I've made so many friends this year. Thank you to everyone for making my year tolerable and helping me feel so welcomed on hockeyblr. No matter how many crazy things this community goes through, I still feel like I'm always welcomed here and the majority of people are super friendly. I could not have gotten through this year without you, and I hope that I'll be here, continuing to fall for dumb hockey boys, for many more years!!!!

💕💕💕💕

[inthenameofghost]

Thanks to all my followers great 2021 for us!

💕💕💕😘😘😘🥂🥂🎉🎉🎉🎉

@barzychuk @barzzal @honeybearbarzal @barzxdaddy @charliethehoneyedangel @probablybarzy13 @eugenedream @itrocksmysocks @barzysworld @idontgiveaflyinggrayson69 @vermillionbitch @elitebarzal @iamtheblondestblonde @matbarzyy @softboybarzal @eternal-imagines @tkachukme @dunnerbarzal @generallybarzy @barzalsmat @patricksharp @nyisles @seggyt91 @mollybri22 😘💕💕💕💕

[elitebarzal]

Hey!! Do you know of any mat barzal writers on here I should follow?

 @generallybarzy @mbarzals @matbaerzal @barzzal @eternal-imagines @thirteenisles

there are several others that are amazing too but for now these are the ones that I remember

[barzzal]

call me crosby → interlude p.2

summary: Young, reckless, and rash, an unplanned pregnancy causes a massive rift in your relationship with then, cup-hungry 27 year-old Sidney Crosby. As he gets caught up in his own childish and selfish ways, confused to what was once certain, he lets you struggle alone. His absence reasons a miscarriage scare that leads you to end the relationship. Years after losing you, having to live a life that’s surrounded with the families his friends have built through the years embodies his greatest regret. Now with three cups and tons of awards at his disposal, Sid is given a chance to right his wrongs and win what was once the biggest loss of his life.

pairing: sidney crosby x fem!reader gen. warnings: language and theme, co-parenting, mentions of pregnancy & false miscarriage, sexual/suggestive themes, 18+ ch. warnings: angst, language, swearing, mentions of blood genre: hockey rpf, fluff, angst, kid-fic, exes to lovers length: series; 9.3k masterlist: the barn, series masterlist

note: the interlude is a two-part chapter dedicated for what happened between sidney and reader in the past and why everything had to happen ;) pls pls tread lightly as these chapters contain sensitive themes. you may stop reading at any time should it make you feel uncomfortable. this is just a reminder that you are still responsible for what you consume. all that aside, happy reading <3 (gif used: mine)

disclaimer: this is a work of fiction. teasers, interviews, events, and the like that are included in the series are purely made for fictional purposes and do not/should not represent any of the names involved in real life. please proceed with caution.  

Your mind wanders to the not so distant past while you do your night time routine. You blankly stare at yourself absent-mindedly as you lather lotion on your hands and arms. 

It’s crazy how madly and deeply in love you and Sidney were a week ago. 

You can’t help but reminisce about the reckless night you and Sidney shared. The very night that you think might have led to such a life-altering event. 

“Babe?” you hear Sidney call for you from the bathroom. 

You have just gotten home from an annual fundraising ball that the Pittsburgh Penguins hold to support the foundations it is in partnership with. As the captain, and arguably the face of the franchise, Sidney’s hectic night also meant having to always stand wearing your impractical heels and a smile that has to be genuine enough– but not so much as to come off pretentious and inauthentic. 

While all of the actions you’ve shown were true, it was evident that the pressure to remain perfect was taxing. To say that you were tired would even be an understatement.

You feel a hint of hunger but even that won’t stand against your need for a good night’s sleep. 

As you lazily take off your earrings from one ear to another, you hum as a cue for Sidney to let you know whatever it was that’s going on in his mind. 

“How does this thing work exactly?” 

Baffled about the query, you lay your jewelry pieces flat onto the tray, and aim for the bathroom. You were still wearing the dress that elegantly clothed you for the entire night. It was a dress that Sidney had picked out himself. A dress that he knew would compliment and suit his girl just right. 

The sliding doors of the bathroom were already half-open thereby causing you to see Sidney’s reflection in the mirror; his brows furrowed in total and utter bewilderment. 

“What’s wrong?” you ask, meeting his eyes in the mirror once he hears your voice. 

He turns to face your way and in his hand rests what seemed like a tiny, but regular, container of skin moisturizer you have been meaning for him to try. 

“You watch me get ready for bed for years now, honey.” you idly tell him. 

Sidney recognizes the exhaustion in your words, enjoying how your lazy voice register in his ears. He smiles. 

“I don’t want to risk doing it wrong,” he explains. “I looked up this brand on the internet and I must say, it costs a lot for such a tiny bottle.” 

You roll your eyes as you take the product from him. “It costs a lot because it also takes a lot to rescue,” you pause for effect as you playfully point at him, “that face.”

The two of you chuckle softly. Bare feet and about to get unready. 

“Have you washed your face?” you ask him. Sidney nods. 

“Alright. What else have you done?” 

He shrugs, glancing over to his side of the sink. You’ve laid out a few products for him. Some of them he’d already gotten used to and some that he’s still figuring out. Sidney tells you about the few products he has initially applied. 

“Could you please help me?” he asks in that voice he only uses with no one else but you. 

You sigh dreadfully, eyes already closed with how tired you were. You lean your head on his shoulder, mumbling your words. 

“But I’m so sleepy.” you let him know. After having a few seconds of rest, you add, “I haven’t even gotten my makeup off yet.” 

Sidney knows you were beat. Even if he doesn’t tell you, he truly appreciates the great lengths you go for him. You don’t have to do it, but you did it all just the same for as long as it involved Sidney.

“I’ll take it off,” he volunteers. 

“Pfft.” you snicker a foolish laugh. “I bet I can get a goal past you faster than you can learn how to take my makeup off. Properly.”

“Come on,” he says, putting his hands on your waist, giving it a good squeeze. “You got to at least let me try. I know you’re tired.”

You give him a smile but reply in a commanding tone, “Promise you’ll do it like I do?” 

Sidney nods, ready to do after your bidding. “Religiously.” 

Once you agree, you let him gently lift you up the counter next to the sink so as to let you be in a comfortable position. By the looks of it, the odds of you falling asleep were high and Sidney just couldn’t bear letting you stand on your feet after you’ve murdered them with those ridiculously high heels.

“Nooo,” Sidney coos. “Don’t fall asleep.”

With closed eyes, you softly chuckle. “Mkay.”

He glances over to the rack where you keep your nighttime essentials and asks, “What do I do first?” 

Sidney willfully follows every instruction you give him as you patiently guide him throughout the process. His endless musings, in the hopes of keeping you awake, have evidently worked despite your exhausted state. 

You didn’t want to drift off anyway. You were in total bliss feeling his touch; soft with care – delicate. Sidney’s fingers graze onto your skin ever so lightly as he applied every product. He did what he had promised you. He did your nighttime routine religiously. 

His movements were put to a stop. You hear a soft clink of the product onto the tray; a sign that he was through. 

Before you get to open your eyes, Sidney leans towards you. He then lightly pressed his lips against yours so as to give you a peck. 

He plants a couple more before he eventually breaks away. 

“Done.” He says enthusiastically, seeing you with a wide smile on your face.

“Yeah?” you briefly open your eyes, Sidney coming into full view. You see him half-naked with only his pajama bottoms on. His chest was rose-colored; perfectly in contrast with the shade of his stubble.

You take a quick glance at yourself in the mirror so you could get a peak of what he’s done. Huh. Pretty good. 

You turn your head back and face him wearing a tight-lipped smile. 

“Like it?” he asks. “How did I do?” 

“You did fine.” you kid. 

Sidney pretends to be appalled. “Fine? Just fine?” 

“Uh-huh.” you tease. “Not bad for a first timer.”

“A’right.” he says with a smirk. “I know I could’ve done a lot worse than a ‘not bad’ so I’ll take it.”

“I’m just playing with you.” you tell him. “You did a good job.”

You open your arms, asking for a hug. Obligingly, he leans in and lets you wrap your arms around his nape. Your hands then found their way onto his face. Your fingers graze over rough stubble just as your eyes meet Sidney’s. 

With your thumb landing on his lips, you gently pull Sidney’s face closer so you could lock him in a kiss. Gentle and sweet. Passionate despite being done swiftly. You feel each other’s warmth– with your mouth and your bodies pressed so close together. 

Once the two of you break away, you say, “Thank you for taking care of me.”

His left hand removes some errant strands that lazily fashioned the side of your face. The other makes its way on the small of your back, pulling you even closer. 

Before the two of you dive into another kiss, Sidney says, “Thank you for letting me.”

𖥸

When Sidney asked you to move in with him, the first thing he did was to start a major renovation of his home. You were not a fan of it because of the obvious reason; it was unnecessary. But alas, Sidney had his ways. He told you it was not just his home anymore. It was yours. “Ours.” was what he said. 

It didn’t matter where the two of you were. Sidney had countless away games and series, and you had your fair share of business meetings on your end. But no matter where the two of you were, regardless of being away, your togetherness was kept by the home you have built with him. After all, Sidney’s home was just a massive block of building situated on acres and acres of land, standing still and lonely. 

Then came you. 

He stripped his home clean when you moved in. Little by little, you were able to incorporate yourself into his home. You had a say in every change; what has to go and what can stay. What paint colors to use and what kind of furniture he should get. Sidney did nothing but say "yes" the entire time. He wanted you to feel at home as much as he did. Neither the place nor the big still and lonely building did matter because he had you. For Sidney, you were home.

From the gorgeous outdoor landscape, classic hardwood floors, to high and white ceilings, Sidney wanted every corner of his home – inside and out, to have a touch of you. Only you. 

It was his futile attempt at a romantic gesture. He wanted to be reminded of you each time he was in it. Because just like what he said, no matter what happens, wherever he may be, you were the person he knew he’s always going to come home to. 

Looking back, it hasn’t occurred to you just how high and white the ceilings were. How distant everything seemed. Without Sidney, all of it seemed dull and ordinary. You just did not realize it until you spent the last several hours staring at that boring ceiling, lying in an all too cold bed that has seen the best and the worst of you and Sidney.

In spite of your still heavy and tired eyes due to all the crying, you find yourself reaching for your phone yet again. Maybe this time you’d get an answer.

“Please pick up.” you utter as you try to numb yourself with the endless ringing of the line. It was getting really late. Even with what happened earlier, you still wanted to hear his voice. That way you’d know he was okay. That way you’d know he was coming home. 

With time feeling like eternity, you managed to give it some thought. Maybe it was your fault. Maybe he was right. You did attack him; one way or another. You could have told him some other time when it felt right or when neither of you were tired. Maybe that way, he could have reacted differently. 

The weight you feel in your chest must have been incomparable to how he felt. It came to him unsuspectedly. The least you could have done was lay it all down easy. But no, you chose to put him in a difficult position where he has to choose between his present and the future. An ambush that was undeniably uncalled for.

Maybe, at some point, you forgot Sidney had a life where you didn’t belong. Maybe that was where you went wrong. Sidney had a life. You made him yours. 

Your hand travels down to your stomach so as to remind you of what life already is – what life will be. Sidney knew you were carrying his child and the first thing he did was leave. For somebody else, it would have been their cue to go. But here you were, instead of feeling all the right things you should be feeling, still waiting for him. 

If your calculations were right, it was another hour before Sidney finally came home. You turned away from the bedroom door and pretended to be asleep. He was quiet but his presence said otherwise. There wasn’t much movement being that Sidney was stoned at the door looking across the room. Looking at you. 

Out of all the years that the two of you have spent together, this was the first time he actually did not feel like coming home. 

Instead of the comfort he’s always felt each time he opened the door to your shared bedroom, Sidney felt unsure. It was as if he almost did not want to come home at all. Because you, who once brought him peace, was the very person who handed onto him a havoc served on a silver plate. 

Sidney no longer minded the fact that he knew you waited for him. He knew you were still awake yet the first thing he chose to do was head towards the bathroom. The clear cut sound of the door coming to a close sends shivers down your spine. You try blinking it away, but the tears just start coming. 

When the bathroom door opens, you squeeze your eyes shut knowing what’s to come next. It was a while before Sidney decided to come to bed. You feel it shift with the weight of having Sidney in it. 

Normally, his arms would magically snake its way to your body and lock you in an embrace. That was the only way for Sidney to get a comfortable sleep. Now, he stares at the ceiling for a good minute or so before he shifts and looks at the back of your head. 

He did not want to say a thing though he felt like he needed to. 

It was wrong for him to feel this way. He knew that. But now that he’s conflicted, Sidney knows he’s going to have to give himself some time. Perhaps, even some time away. From this house. From you.

He takes a deep breath; long but subtle. The one you make when you’re trying to calm yourself before diving off a cliff. Sidney wishes he could come out of his. To be able to swim back to his surface. Because as hard as it was to admit, you were drowning him. 

“Will you ever change your mind?” he breaks the ice and asks. 

Despite being nervous to what his answer might be, you return the question. 

“Will you change yours?”

He doesn’t say a word. And with that, you knew Sidney’s silence was his answer. 

You do the same. 

Though there was something he did want to let you know. 

I don’t want to have to lose you. 

But instead, he says, “I don’t want to lose you.”

You stifle a sob as a tear meets your pillow. 

You didn’t answer. You didn’t answer not because you didn’t want to. You didn’t answer because you were afraid that you couldn’t think of any. 

You hate to think you’d have to lose one another over the very thing that was supposed to make the two of you whole. The truth is, you were scared about so many things. You just didn’t know you’d have to be scared about losing Sidney. 

𖥸

A few days have passed since you and Sidney got to talking. It was barely one being that all you’ve done was fight. It was already more than just an argument and time has been nothing but cruel in letting you know that the sudden change you see in him now is his way of telling you that the both of you are not and will never be on the same page. 

Sidney chose to drown himself more in his Summer commitments. The last thing you heard he was off signing brand deals and staying a lot longer at the club. Now, while he’s busy playing in between putts and pucks, you’ve gone to another appointment and have been taking good care of yourself and your baby to the best of your abilities. 

You were at the task of putting away the lillies you have bought on your way home when you hear Sidney’s car enter the driveway. It would not be long before he opens the door. You have not really thought of what to say to him. As much as you try to understand where he’s coming from, you badly hope he does the same thing to you and simply honor what’s already on the table. 

The sound of keys being tossed onto the bowl rings throughout the hallway; commencing Sidney’s arrival. You see him enter the room in his usual golfing attire, lugging his equipment behind him. 

You have not felt the thick air of uncertainty for a while and you realize it was because he was not around. You offer him a tight-lipped smile once you meet his eyes. 

“Hey, you.” you call for him in a tone that lets him know you were open to talk should he want to discuss things with you. 

Sidney declines your invitation through his own, “Hi.” 

You feel a pang in your chest so you try and make up for it by putting the rest of the mess sitting on the island away. Sidney, on the other hand, sees what you’re trying to do. Nevertheless, he ignores it. Instead, he makes his way around you, heading towards the fridge to get a drink. 

You give up.

“Is this really how you want things to be when you come home?” you ask.

Sidney sighs, letting your words sit in the air. He lets the sound of the water hitting the glass mock you as an answer. You watch him drink its entirety with a stern face, unbothered to even look you in the eye.

A month ago you can’t even picture him behaving like this. Time is fickle, so they say. But it is just as unpredictable and brutal. 

“Sid,” you call, failing to mask the sound of your voice nearly breaking. Of course, you were desperate to have a decent conversation with him. You miss him. And even though you know you would not change your mind anymore, the best thing you can do is to at least have the chance to change his. 

“Don’t you have anything to say to me?” you reach for his hand to hold it. 

For a moment, you see his eyes soften. He looks down on your hands. You were scared that he was going to dismiss you but much to your relief, Sidney held your hand instead. He tenderly rubbed the back of your hand whilst he tried to find the words to utter. 

This was one of the things you miss. Sidney’s touch. He’s always had a way with it. Nothing really mattered for as long as Sidney held you. You felt so secure – safe from anything that may come your way. For as long as you were with Sidney, you needn’t have to feel scared. 

Just when you feel a sliver of hope, you see a somber expression in his face the moment you look back at him. 

“I don’t have anything new to say.” he nearly apologizes. 

Disappointment now printed all over yours, you choose to let him know of what kept you busy. 

“I went to Claire and got a sonogram.” you tell him, forcing out a smile. 

You opted not to get one the first time despite Claire’s advice. You wanted to have Sidney with you in that room. But now, it was painfully clear that it might never happen. Not to mention the fact that his child is continuing to grow regardless of what he had to say about it. 

Sidney gladly lets your hand go so as to caress his nape. When he falls silent, you continue nonetheless.

“The baby is healthy.” you add.

Shrugging the latter off, he asks, “What about you?”

He still cared about you. At least that was there. 

Is it really too much to wish he’d feel the same way for his child?

“I’m fine.” you answer, uninterested with your own well-being.

Sidney says nothing else but nods, dismissing whatever you still have to say concerning his unborn child. 

“Won’t you at least see it?” you try for yet another time. 

Sidney’s jaw clenches but he chooses to let it go. He didn’t come home to fight. 

He pays you a meaningful look, devoid of the fact that the said sonogram was already pinned on the fridge along with a few old polaroids that the two of you intentionally kept for each other’s sake. 

“I told you, I don’t have anything new to say.” he repeats himself. “And I still won’t even if I see it.” 

It was clear that the two of you were trying to make ends meet. But Sidney was not trying hard enough.

“Then what are we doing here?” 

You were offended, of course. You were utterly hurt by his appalling insensitiveness. Sidney did not give even an inch of care but that shouldn’t justify acting too much of an ass about it.

“Am I supposed to wait for you to change your mind before I continue carrying your child?” you continue, “I’m pretty sure pregnancy doesn’t work that way, Sid.”

Do you take him for a fool? He thinks. 

You touched a nerve, causing Sidney to lose himself again. 

“Who even told you I wanted one?” he retorted. 

What does he think would happen after sex? A gala? A dinner party?

You need not stress on the obvious. Besides, doing so would just take you miles down the surface you’ve barely even scratched. Dealing with a closed-minded Sidney and piling on his share of negativity would just be counterproductive. 

“I’m not changing my mind, Sidney.” you firmly state.

The time Sidney was gone did not make you want the things he wanted. It just made you certain – so sure, that you want nothing else but this baby. And you know there was no other way out. 

“Are you with me on this or not?” 

He scoffs at the thought of you making him choose. 

“You’d really go that far, wouldn’t you?” 

“That far?” you scorn.

“Sidney, that ‘far’ we happened to be discussing right now, is a life together!” you stress, pointing a finger at his chest. “So, yes. I am willing to go that far.”

Sidney could not find the words to save his own cause. But regardless of the problem he still hopes you can set aside, he knows that you will eventually come to your senses and choose the life that you were already living with him.

However, the wounds were barely even healed and here you were, deciding to pick at it again.

“I told you to come back only when you’re ready to be an adult about this and face it with me.” you order. “I don’t need you starting a fight because you know I will never change my mind.”

“Well, you know what? Neither will I.” Sidney shakes his head, adamant to bow down in favor of your will. 

“There. I said it.” he adds, thinking of the night you told him about your pregnancy. 

He sees your eyes watering and he knew it would be enough for you to pull him back in. But this wasn’t like the other times. You wanted different things and he did too. Maybe that’s how it should be. Maybe it isn’t worth prolonging what has clearly ended.

“You’re right.” he says, “I shouldn’t have come home in the first place.”

Suffice it to say that he did not deserve to feel half of what you have been feeling, you hold him back once he starts retreating.

“W-Where are you going?” 

“Geno’s.” He shortly answers. “I cannot be on board with something you chose to decide all on your own.”

You fall silent as it was not the response you were expecting, especially not from Sidney. So instead of speaking for you and his unborn child, you watch him leave once again. 

𖥸

Sidney made sure he was kept preoccupied for a reason. It was evident that you were making him choose. And despite him denying, he is certain that regardless of the path he’d be taking, you’ll choose to have the baby and leave the life you have already built with him. 

He hated the possibility that you might leave him for something that was unplanned. Something that could have been prevented by a birth control shot. But no, it didn’t. It frustrates him that you won’t take the only ‘out’ he’s got to offer. It frustrates him even more to know that regardless of your choice, he just could not see himself being tied up to a commitment he knows he will never want.

Yes, he may have wanted and hoped for a life with you but that was it. Only you. He did not need anything more. On top of it all, he’s scared. He’s scared because he knows that he almost hated you for it. 

You have reached an impasse and you and Sidney both know it. It was just a matter of who’s going to be the one to break it to the other. He doesn’t want to be the one to do so, hence why he chose to leave. 

Sidney was a man that loved calculation. Everything had to be precise. Otherwise meant having to give a shot at failure. That was how he felt for the majority of his career. He did excel at school but it did not challenge him. It took less energy and made him less driven. He wanted to acquire so much and be so much more within so little time. Wishful thinking and ambitions aside, he made everything he wanted happen. 

He just wishes he could figure this one out before it’s too late. 

Geno had his feet up on the couch, hands were glued on the game controller, yelling at the TV. It was another game that he had one of Anna’s nephews teach him. He had nothing to do for the entire day and he was a firm believer that wasting time was not really wasted – only if you make it count. 

The count, if you dare ask, was a 2-4 game versus some kid on the internet. N8Dawg29.

Geno’s shouting at the TV was put to a stop when the doorbell rang. 

“Lucky bastard.” he says, throwing the controller elsewhere. 

Given the moment’s notice, he wasn’t expecting anyone. He had no idea who it was at the other side of the door. By the time he opens it, Sidney’s face comes into view. 

“Sid!” he says his name with a giant smile on his face. The very same smile that was washed away by the look Sidney had on his. Lost. 

What brings you here? was what he wanted to ask. But given the way his friend looked, it was apparent that something big was bothering him.

“What’s wrong?” 

Concern traveled to Geno’s eyes when Sidney spoke of your name as an answer. 

“Is she alright?” he asks him, opening the doors of his home wide for Sidney. 

Sidney looks him in the eye and says, “She’s pregnant.”

As the brand new information hit him, Geno begins to realize that such news might not have been well-received by Sidney. 

Uncomfortable and panicking as to how he’d make light of the situation, Geno asks, “Who’s the father?”

𖥸

Geno knew he needed reinforcement. N8Dawg29 would have to wait. 

No, it wasn’t because Geno was losing. It was because he had more important things to tend to. Let him leave it at that.

Two crystal clear snifter glasses were pinched in between his fingers whilst his other hand held a bottle of premium scotch. He takes long strides across the room, making his way towards the lesser halves of the Pittsburgh Penguins’ three-headed monster. 

The Captain had just broken the news to Kris, but unlike Geno, the defenseman took his time before sharing his two cents. Sidney spared no detail as to what happened. The truth that he didn’t want a baby, and the ugly truth that you did. 

Just like how he looked in front of Geno, the expression on Sidney’s face was more than enough for Kris to deduce that congratulations weren’t in order. Despite him being happy to learn about your pregnancy, Kris just couldn’t let Sidney feel as though his feelings were invalid. 

Quietly, whilst the biggest names of the team sat together, the weight of the elephant in the room was still borne solely by the team’s captain. Once each of them was able to take a sip from their respective glasses, it was Kris’ turn to ask a question. 

“Does she really intend to keep the baby?” 

Sidney nods as the alcohol runs down his throat. 

“Actually, she made me choose,” he says. “–said she’d do it with or without me.”

“Are you going to let her?” 

Sid meets Kris’ eyes, “What would you have me do?”

Kris takes a deep breath, conflicted as to whether he was in the position to say what’s in his mind. “You know it really doesn’t matter what I think. It is still your decision.” 

“Of course, it matters.” Sidney counters. You’re a father. He wanted to add.

“What is it that you want to hear from me?” 

“Just hit me. Tell me how you feel. I can handle it.” 

“All right,” Kris puts down his glass thereafter clasping his hands. “Are you a hundred percent sure that you don’t want to be a Dad?” 

Sidney finds it hard to answer. But he knows it wasn’t because there may be a slight chance that he would eventually want to be one. It was mainly because he knew saying it out loud would paint him in a bad light. He can’t afford to look selfish in front of his friends.

Kris questions, “So, you’re telling me you haven’t pictured yourself with a child? Ever?” 

“Of course, I have. It’s just– I don’t want to have one now.” Sidney feels like a fool for saying it out loud. “You know I love kids. I have always been great with them. You know how I am with Alex, right?” 

Sidney looks at Geno once he speaks but all Geno did was avoid his gaze. Even he didn’t favor how Sidney had to bring up his godson as an example.

Instead, Geno asks, “Then what is the problem?” 

“I don’t think I can be a good father. I’m afraid I’d screw it up.” Sidney fiddles with his fingers. 

“How can you be so sure you won’t be a good father?” 

Sidney sighs, “How did you know?”

“No one knows they’re going to be a kick-ass Dad until they become one.” Kris says. “I couldn’t even figure out how diapers work the first time I had to do it, but that didn’t stop me from wanting to be a good Dad.”

Sidney runs a hand through his naked hair. “Maybe that’s it.” 

Kris’ eyebrows furrow, waiting for Sidney to continue. 

“How can I be good at something I don’t even want to become?” He looks at both of his greatest friends. 

He continues. “It’s different with you and Catherine, Kris. You both wanted Alex. You both wanted kids. I’m not quite sure I can even begin to like the idea of having my own and yet, here it is – already tearing me and Y/N apart.”

Kris takes a deep breath. 

With his words subtly laced with judgment, he says, “There is only one thing you can do.” 

“What?” Sidney raises a brow.

“You have to let her go.” Kris continued. “Even if it means she’d have to do it alone.” 

Kris respects Sidney for not wanting to have a child. He knows he’d have to understand where Sidney’s at in life. If he says he’s not ready to father a child, then so be it. But that does not give him a pass on being a selfish prick who he’d still have to understand in exchange for you and your unborn child’s sake. You were as important as Sidney is to Kris. He wouldn’t simply allow Sidney to take everything he could while you empty yourself for him. 

Sidney asks yet another appalling query. 

“Do you really think she’d choose it over me?” 

Kris answers with a knowing look on his face, “Any responsible adult would choose a baby over you, Sidney.” 

“Kris,” Geno puts his glass down, interfering. 

“What does that supposed to mean?” Sidney takes offense.

“What did you expect me to say, anyway? Did you come here expecting I will coddle you? That Geno and I will help you be this irresponsible?” Kris tells him off, switching glances between the two of them.

Geno calls him in a definitive tone. “Tanger, stop.” 

“No,” he stressed. “The two of you came to my house asking for my help. Here it is. I am a father. It’s one thing to feel unready for such an immense responsibility. I get that. But, it seems to me that you’re seeing this predicament as a game you just have to win no matter what. That kid isn’t even born yet and here you are, antagonizing him for breaking your relationship. That is your child, Sidney. Your child with the woman you claim to love. Even if you don’t want it, the least you could do is acknowledge that it’s here. It’s not just a thing you have to tolerate.” 

Sidney and Geno fall silent. 

Kris gathers himself and stands, aiming to leave the room. 

“Let her go, Sidney.” he recapitulates. “You know you’re not the person she needs right now.”

𖥸

Three days have gone since Sidney left home. You haven’t gotten enough sleep since then. You’ve tried busying yourself tending to some house chores but none of it sufficed. Tiring yourself did not help in your pursuit to keep your mind from thinking of him.

As much as you wanted to, regardless of your doctor’s orders, you just can’t function bearing a magnitude as heavy as the one you’re facing with Sidney, hanging over your head. Here you are, barely functioning through a day, how could you possibly picture a life without him in it? It seems as though the past is now a blur. But then again, so is your future. 

“Hey,” Cath’s voice soothes you from the other end of the line. “How are you?”

You almost forgot that you were on a call with Catherine. 

Dissociated, you answer, “I’m… I’m doing okay.” 

“Are you sure?” she asks for the hundredth time. 

For the past three days, you’ve always answered that you were. Perhaps, it was for you to save face in the hopes of seeing Sidney again. 

“No.” you finally admit despite Catherine already knowing, “I’m trying.”

“I know you are.” she says. 

It seems as though she wanted to say something else but didn’t know how. Sidney, apart from staying with the Malkin’s has gotten the liking of dropping by her house to see her husband. It had been a day since the first time they had talked about you. Catherine knew little of it but she knew Kris didn’t exactly agree with whatever Sidney had told him. 

Finally, she lets out a sigh, “Listen, Sidney’s here.”

Your heart skips a beat at the mere mention of his name. With a glint of hope in your voice, you ask to confirm. “He is? How is he?”

“Well, to be honest, not good.”

You find comfort at the thought. You might still have a relationship worth saving. 

“Do you want to speak with him? I can–” Catherine offers but you’re quick to decline. Maybe some time to himself will do you both good. 

“No don’t, Cath. Really, it’s fine.” you say with a sad smile. “Knowing that he’s there is enough.”

Silence sits on the line for a moment. You have always waited for Sidney to come home for the majority of your entire relationship. It didn’t matter if he was gone for days or even more than a week; he came home every time. That thought alone made the wait bearable. Now, the uncertainty of it all just makes the wait longer because unlike before, you’re no longer sure he’ll be coming home. 

“Have you been taking care of yourself?” Cath pulls you back from your thoughts. The truth is, you haven’t. 

“Have you been eating? What about your medications? Are you taking them?”

“Well, yeah. I am. I am taking them.” Sometimes on an empty stomach. Sometimes you miss it by an hour or two. 

“Have you slept at all today?” 

“I… Not really. I haven’t been sleeping well. There’s a lot going on in my mind.” you say as your eyes flicker to your surroundings. You then realize that the chaos in your mind has begun to translate into your home. Your sight eventually falls onto the load of dishes you’ve yet to tend to and others already cleaned waiting to be put away. 

“I know. But you need to take it easy.” she reminds you. Catherine has a point. 

“Please take care of yourself, Y/N.” you hear her sigh. “Your baby needs you.”

“Thank you. I appreciate it.” you earnestly tell her, adding that Claire’s stopping by in an hour or two. “A friend is coming over to keep me company tonight. You’ve got nothing to worry about.” 

However, just as you stand whilst talking, you feel a sudden surge of sharp pain in your abdomen. 

You find yourself holding your lower stomach, unsure if it was something to be concerned about. Claire has informed you about the minor discomforts you were inevitably going to feel as your body adjusts to being pregnant, but was it supposed to hurt this much? 

Catherine calls your name when you failed to answer. 

“Yeah?” 

You start to walk, aiming towards the kitchen. Your palm rests on your abdomen in an attempt to relieve yourself of the pain you were still feeling. 

You hold the phone with a bit more pressure, you hear Cath ask, “How are you really? You know you can tell me stuff. I know it must have been tough having to deal with Sid.” 

You sigh in an effort to alleviate the pain. Your eyes begin to water by the mention of his name. It has been tough for you. If Cath could see it, how come Sidney couldn’t?

“I miss him, Catherine.” 

“I know you do.” she replies sympathetically.  “How can I help you?”

“I don’t know.” you reply as your breath becomes labored. “Just– , please tell him to come home.”

You shut your eyes, pressing on your stomach once you reached the counter. 

“We need him.”

𖥸

Was Kris right? Sidney was deep in thought as the paddle hit the ball from one end of the table to another. Geno hits it right back. Sidney does the same. They go on and on uttering no words but mere sighs and labored breathing as they play the game of table tennis. 

Even if Kris was right, he knew it was still going to be Sidney’s decision. If you yourself could not convince him of the life he so clearly does not want, what makes Kris think he can do otherwise?

Despite the heated conversation, Sidney was still thankful Kris had a gym in his basement. He needed to clear his mind; something Geno understood. Sidney rarely gets upset, but most of the times he did, it was for the right reasons. Now, however, Geno wasn’t sure.

“What are you thinking, Sid?” Geno asks as he recovers after missing the ball. 

Through his still labored breathing, Sidney puts the paddle down and briefly looks at him. He shakes his head, not devoid of a single thought - but overwhelmed by millions of it concerning: you. 

When he doesn’t hear a word from Sidney, he finally asks, “It’s been three days. Don’t you want to come home?” 

Sid plays it off with a grin, “Why? You’re getting sick of me?”

Geno rolls his eyes, “Yes, what are you gonna do about it?”

The two of them share a brief laugh, trying to lighten the weight bore by the topic of you. 

“I don’t know, man.” This time, Sidney tells him the truth. He does not know. He had hoped to know by being away from you. But if asked the same question of whether he wants the life that you do, he still has the same answer. 

Before he can say another word, Geno speaks as if he read Sidney’s mind.

“If it’s not entirely a yes, it’s a no, Sid.” he tells him. “You’ve got only two ways out of this. To stay or to leave.”

Sidney’s taken aback. 

To stay would mean to live a life off his books; blind and unplanned. He’d be traversing an environment completely foreign and unknown. To have a child of his own. To have a family. Forever. 

And on the other, to leave would mean to accept the gut-wrenching picture of a life without you; to embrace it through and through. And maybe hope that someday, it will eventually get easier. 

Before Sidney could even answer, the Letangs came rushing into the room. 

“We gotta go,” Kris announces with urgency, the key to his car already in his hand. 

Sidney’s eyes fall onto a frantic Catherine who was clutching onto her phone - voice trembling as she says, “It’s Y/N.”

𖥸

Sidney has never feared anything in his life. Between having to leave home at such a young age and thereafter fighting the horrible concussions that cost him almost fifty games off of his career, he has never felt as frightened as he did when it was you who was already on the line. He admits that he was not in the right mind to deal with what you have told him, but the fear of losing you was so insurmountable that it made being a father seem less terrifying than he could have possibly imagined. 

“Where is she?” 

“Is she okay?”

“Have you seen Claire?”

Wanting to breathe became obsolete once Sidney chose to speak all aforementioned. He held Cath’s shoulder, almost shaking her, in an attempt to get an answer. 

“Claire took care of everything. She’s fine.” she says, relaying what Claire had told her. 

He lets go a sigh of relief. He runs his fingers through his evidently unkempt hair – and asks, “What about the baby?”

If the record was right, it was the first time he’s ever asked about your baby. 

Despite how Cath felt about Sidney, she did not simply have the answer.

Worriedly, he walks past her and looks through the small window of the lounge door. He sees a handful of people, mostly visitors. Sure – there were doctors going from one side of the room to the other wearing their coats and clipboards in hand, talking. Always talking. Giving out information, whether well-received or heart piercing. It was a whole ‘nother job that seemed so ordinary. A whole lot more than what is perceived.

Sidney wanted to go to you. He wanted to find you. But how can he do that if doing so would mean causing more risks than he’s already had? Because even if it was the least of his worries, Sidney could not possibly handle more attention from the crowd. 

It was exactly the ugliness you had to bear being with Sidney. Being with him meant having to consider who he was inside and outside of the rink; that your personal life is inevitably tangled with the one he had with his skates on. There was no double life with Sidney. He has successfully integrated the two so he gets to live both. As for you, you were the tide that went along with it — the tide that kept his boat afloat. 

𖥸

Claire hoped she wouldn’t be spending the night in the hospital. But then came you. 

She was glad she still had the spare key you’ve given her to your home. Between scrambling to find it amidst her million other keys and finding you sitting on the cold floor of the kitchen, holding your stomach, with blood apparent in your clothing, Claire was just glad that she got to you the soonest you needed her to. 

“My baby–” was the first thing you told her as you tried speaking in between sobs. 

You looked at her, tears running down your cheeks, once she had approached you. 

“It’s alright. I got you. I got you.” she repeatedly told you. 

Her eyes fell onto where your hand was. Truth be told, she has never been this scared in her life. It was crazy how she simultaneously knew and didn’t know what to do. It was you. Your safety and the life of the child you’ve yet to birth, placed unexpectedly in her hands. Despite all that, she was certain that she’s not about to lose anyone. Neither you nor your baby. 

“Please don’t pass out.” she murmured more to herself as she held your face. “Stay with me, alright? You guys are gonna be okay. You’ll be okay.”

Claire stayed true to her word and took care of you. You were settled in a private room, resting. It was evident that all the emotional and physical turmoil you’ve been trying to suppress has finally caught on and got the better hold of you. Scarily so, despite the night’s ordeal, you were now safe. You and the baby. 

You were asleep when Claire left you in your hospital room. She still has a few of your documents that needed sorting out. Well, that and having to deal with the man – with both of his hands placed on his waist, pacing – waiting for her at the end of the lobby. 

“How is she?” Sidney asks Claire the moment he was within hearing distance. 

She ignores him. Instead, she goes inside the waiting room and acknowledges the presence of Catherine alongside Kris and Evgeni. 

“How is she?” Catherine shoots the same question. 

Claire initially answers with a nod then proceeds, “She’s going to be fine. We just need to let her get some rest.” 

Cath nods as well as the others. 

“And the baby?” 

Claire doesn’t give a definite answer. 

“We’re still waiting for several results.” 

“W-Why?” Sidney jumps in the conversation. “Did something happen to the baby?” 

Unfortunately, as much as Claire wanted to hit Sidney’s face, she couldn’t. She wasn’t in the hospital just because she’s your friend. Simply put, duty calls. And right now, Sidney demands her of it. 

“I am not at liberty to disclose anything at the moment, but I assure you, we are doing the best we can.” she tells Sidney despite not meeting his eyes. 

“Will you at least let me see her?” He pleads.

“I don’t think so.” she states firmly.

“What– Why?” Sidney asks quite defensively. “I am her emergency contact person!”

“No, you are not.” she informs him. “You cannot see her files because you are no longer her emergency contact person. I am now. You are neither her next of kin nor are you married. And if you are present as any partner should have, you would know.” 

Sidney scoffs, “That’s bullshit.”

“You are not my patient, Sid. I am in no way responsible for disclosing information Y/N clearly doesn’t want to share with you.”

“You don’t expect me to believe that, do you?” Sidney complains.

“I have nothing to say to you.” Claire tells him. 

“I can’t believe how unprofessional you can be!” Sidney exclaims when Claire continues to ignore his requests. 

“No,” She looks at him for a moment, gets back to reading your form on her clipboard, and meets Sid’s eyes once again. “It’s the consequences.” 

“You’re unbelievable.” 

The Letangs come in between the two to mitigate the tension, “We’ll just wait for as long as we need to.”

“Why? What’s the plan, Sid? Huh? Isn’t this what you wanted? To spend your years like Jagr?”

“Don’t you fucking go there.” He warns.

Even more appalled by Sidney’s reaction, Claire grins and shrugs shamelessly before walking away.

“I think I just did.”

𖥸

Sidney did not exactly know how he did it and how fast he had done it, but as soon as Claire had her hands full, he went straight to grab the brass metal of the door knob leading to your room. 

Quietly, as he spared one last glance of his surroundings, he turns it and opens the door. 

It was a good thing that your bed was not adjacent to the doorway. Sidney could not fully comprehend the things wrecking his brain all at once. Although he knew of one thing: he finally gets to see you. 

Your mind drifts right off the tip of your finger as you look outside your window. The fog was so even and misty that it made the entire window a blur. The only thing you could see were the steady white lights of that huge corner block building fashioned by the noise of cars driving off to a better place than the four corners of your hospital bedroom. 

Judging by the scenery, you could tell that it was well past midnight. 

As you lie with your still aching heart, you find yourself grazing your stomach ever so gently as if you were holding something– someone, much more meaningful than your entire being. 

If only he was– 

“Hey.” 

He is. 

Sidney had both of his hands resting on his side alienated by the thick air he usually causes. It was a battle as to whether to go near you or stay still. But judging by the way you looked at him so strangely, he knew he didn’t have any other choice. 

You watch him inch himself closer until he is already at the foot of the bed. He looked unusually small for a man of his stature. Your eyes did not miss a thing. You saw the hesitant look he had coupled with the urgency that is perhaps all too late to be paraded before your eyes. 

Despite noticing all that, in Sidney’s eyes, you did nothing but look. He was scared not because it made him uneasy. He was scared because you have never looked at him that way. 

There are so many things to be said but Sidney was at a loss for words. He wanted to ask how you were; how the baby was. He wanted to say how sorry he felt for leaving and how dumb it was to let you suffer when he could’ve been there like he should have. He wanted to let you know how badly he prays and hopes that you’ll find it in yourself to forgive him. But mostly, he just really wished that you’d still want to make it work and build that family – with him. 

How could he say all that when it feels like you were miles away beyond his reach despite him already holding your hand? 

Finally, as though the words have only occurred to him, he asks, “How are you?” 

He looks back at you as intently as he thought you did. However, your eyes mirrored his, unwillingly. Sidney takes the empty seat beside your bed; never letting go of his hold on you. 

Soon enough, you look away and aim your attention onto his hands. Both of his palms embraced your hand oh so desperately, pleading a prayer only he could hear. 

“I’m sorry.” he says, eyes now misty with tears. “It’s all my fault. I should’ve been with you. I’m sorry. I was selfish. Please please forgive me.” he adds, pressing wet and much more desperate kisses on your hand. 

He waited for you to say something in return but he received nothing. You looked at him exactly the way you did when he arrived; sparing him a blink or two whenever your eyes got tired.

It was the kind of silence Sidney wasn’t accustomed to. It was the kind of silence he never knew. 

Until now. Until you.

His voice breaks when he decides to speak yet again. 

“Please say something.” he desperately asks. 

But you don’t. 

You just lie in the same cold bed, letting him hold your hand. 

Afraid of what has become you, Sidney masks his fear with a wide smile albeit it didn’t do any better. It just made him feel worse. Maybe even a thousand times more than he’s already had. 

“Mon amour…” he calls you. “Please talk to me.”

You blink and look away. 

Sorrow now filling the void he feels from within, Sidney sees your hand that was still resting atop your stomach. 

For the first time, he then dared to ask, “How… How's the baby?” 

Sidney sees you look at him yet again as if to finally acknowledge his presence in the room. 

However, the words you spoke next nearly made him wish you did not bother at all. 

“There is no baby, Sidney.”

You spit the words like vile coursing from your throat; voice hoarse from the eventful night. 

“W-What?” he stammers, evidently shocked at your uninhibited way of revealing such news. 

“There is no baby.” you repeat just as you remove your hand from his hold. 

“You may go.” you quietly add, looking away. 

Confused, off-guard, and terrified, Sidney tries to grasp the thought of the truth. 

“What do you mean there is no baby?” Sidney begins to flood you with queries. “They must have read the tests wrong. It can’t be right, can it? Claire told Cathy everything was fine! We do have a baby!” he nearly grovels trying to get a hold of you, pleading. 

“We have a baby, y/n.” He breaks. “We’re going to be a family.”

Oh you’d kill to have him say those words when you needed him to. Only he didn’t. And that is the truth you’re now choosing. 

“I need you to go, Sidney.” you respond calmly, frustrating him even more. 

“Please, y/n!” he cries. “What happened to our baby?” 

“It’s gone, alright!” you lose it just as Sidney’s world begins to crumble, “You got what you wanted!”

You blink away the tears about to break just as you say, “I need you to go because I don’t want to do this anymore.”

“No– There’s got to be another way for us. We always find a way.”

“I don’t want to do this anymore, Sidney.” you reiterate. “I don’t think we should be together.”

“You’re just saying that because you’re mad at me,” he argues. “Just be mad at me, y/n!” 

He grabs your hand and places it close to his cheek. You can feel the tears on his skin and his desperate cry to escape the inevitable. 

You look at him with the same fondness you once had. The last he’ll ever see. 

“It’s over, Sid.” you declare. “I don’t want this– I don’t want to be with you.”

“Y/N… please,” he says. “I’m begging you.” 

“Leave, Sidney.” you reach for the red button on the side of your bed, hoping to get Claire. 

Sidney’s tears continue to fall. But you no longer care. 

“I can’t do this without you.” he says in between sobs. 

You press the red button repeatedly. You wipe your tears away wishing Claire would get to you faster. 

“Please don’t end us.” he says, knees already on the cold hospital floor; a complete mess. “Please don’t make me leave.” 

Before you can push him further away, the door to your room abruptly opens; Kris and Geno come into view. 

With a firm yet cautious voice, Geno calls him. “Sidney.” 

Kris puts an arm over Sidney’s shoulder, “Let her get some rest.”

“Y/N–” Sidney calls for you once more; bearing with him the thought of losing his son and his son’s mother. The family you wanted a little too early. The family he wanted a little too late. The painful truth that Sidney chose to carry with him for years however ugly and cruel you made it to be just so he can still make it seem real. 

If only he knew.

series taglist: to be reblogged! [tumblr crashes a lot and won't let me post smh]

note: woooow been a hot min! how's everyone? i hope you liked this long over-due update i'm so sorry life got in the way for a bit. anw, you know how much of a sucker i am for interaction so lmk what you think love ya! ♡

add yourself to the series taglist here. i appreciate all kinds of feedback! ♡

[rnuggethopkins]

Put your music on shuffle and list the first 10 songs that come up. I was tagged by: @nikolajehlers -TYSM! 🥰

1.Keep It Simple - James Barker Band 2.Sweater Weather - The Neighbourhood 3. Whatever It Takes - Imagine Dragons 4. Wannabe - Spice Girls 5. Alone - Marshmello 6. London Boy - Taylor Swift 7.Body Electric - Lana Del Rey 8.Dicked Down In Dallas - Trey Lewis 9.Heart To Break - Kim Petras 10.Kinfolks - Sam Hunt

Imma tag: @jdrysdales, @bigboigritty, @bradyskjeis, @yeahcalesy, @barzzal, @matthewthotchuk and anyone else who wants to do this! (no pressure to anyone tagged though)

[barzzal]

call me crosby → interlude p.1

summary: Young, reckless, and rash, an unplanned pregnancy causes a massive rift in your relationship with then, cup-hungry 27 year-old Sidney Crosby. As he gets caught up in his own childish and selfish ways, confused to what was once certain, he lets you struggle alone. His absence reasons a miscarriage scare that leads you to end the relationship. Years after losing you, having to live a life that’s surrounded with the families his friends have built through the years embodies his greatest regret. Now with three cups and tons of awards at his disposal, Sid is given a chance to right his wrongs and win what was once the biggest loss of his life.

pairing: sidney crosby x fem!reader gen. warnings: language and theme, co-parenting, mentions of pregnancy & false miscarriage, sexual/suggestive themes, 18+ ch. warnings: angst, fluff (YES), language, harsh arguments, swearing genre: hockey rpf, fluff, angst, kid-fic, exes to lovers length: series; 4k  masterlist: the barn, series masterlist  TEASER #1 (2015)

note: yet another long wait is over!! as always, thank you all for being so patient about it. the interlude is a two-part chapter dedicated for what happened between sidney and reader in the past and why everything had to happen ;) pls pls tread lightly as these chapters contain sensitive themes. you may stop reading at any time should it make you feel uncomfortable. this is just a reminder that you are still responsible for what you consume. all that aside, happy reading <3 (gif used: mine)

disclaimer: this is a work of fiction. teasers, interviews, events, and the like that are included in the series are purely made for fictional purposes and do not/should not represent any of the names involved in real life. please proceed with caution.  

It’s the first month of Summer in 2015 and what you had in mind was fairly simple: invite your dear friends for barbecue, host the gathering with the love of your life, and maybe share a laugh for when everyone ends up drunk way before dinner time. 

That’s how it has always been for you. A routine that came and went with loving Sidney Crosby. 

While it has already been a team’s tradition dating back when Mario was still Captain, these gatherings were often spearheaded by the WAGs of the Pittsburgh Penguins. That said, after all the years of being the Captain’s girlfriend, hosting these intimate events, especially for you and the other girls, became as important as wearing their jersey numbers. 

It was your turn to host come the first week of June. Ana and Geno were the ones in charge of hosting the last team dinner. Now that it is your turn, it was safe to say that you have spent the last two weeks ensuring that everything will fall according to plan. 

You’ve pictured the day with you catching up with the other wives and girlfriends while the guys gloss over the usual stuff of games and whatnot. Just a simple gathering of the family you were able to build with Sidney. 

Well, that was the case until a distant voice called your name and pulled you back from where you were standing behind the kitchen counter. 

She asked, “What’s gotten in you?”

You flutter your eyes, catching yourself holding a big bowl of salad you were meaning to put outside by the outdoor dining table.

“Uh- nothing. I’m sorry. I haven’t had enough sleep.” you lied. 

“I told you, you got to take it easy. You’ve done more than enough. You do know you can just open up a few bags of chips, a few sixes, and we’ll be good to go, right?” she kids but earnestly tells you with the same bubbly smile on her face. 

You give her a nudge, already smiling, “Cath, stop.”

“Come, I’ll help you with that.” she adds, aiming for the bowl you were holding. You let her take it from you with a sigh. Unknowingly, your palm reaches your forehead, as if to ease the stress out, 

“I’m sorry. I’ve been feeling restless.” you break a laugh and continue, lying yet again. “I guess, you’re right. I might have overdone it.” 

“Might? Yes, you have! You always go all out on these things.” she says, stating the obvious. 

“I just want what’s best for the team.” you tell her. 

Cath places the bowl down along with the rest of what you’ve prepared for the day. 

“You mean for Sidney.” she gives you a side eye. 

“Oh, stop it.” you roll your eyes. 

“No, I know it’s not entirely for him but it’s surely mostly for him.” she goes again. 

You give her a smile of retreat, replying in a sing-songy voice. “Things we do for the people we love.” 

You may not have been wrong with what you had just said, but you’ve got to admit that whatever brunch-slash-barbecue-party you’ve managed to pull off, the very one that is now sitting in front of you, could barely reach the million other things you have willingly done for Sidney Crosby. 

“Hey, listen.” Cath calls. You hum. 

“I want to thank you for letting me bring Alex–” 

Immediately, you need not find it necessary for her to continue once you’ve heard Sidney’s godson’s name. Catherine had already mentioned that she was having a hard time finding a full-time sitter she’s comfortable leaving Alex with. Not to mention, how it’s so long since she and Kris got a whole night to themselves. But for as long as she is concerned, the only thing she should be worried about is how seldom she asks you to sit for him. 

“Don’t worry about it. You know how much I love him.” you assure her, frowning upon how you haven’t seen him since the Letangs arrived. “Where is he anyway? I barely got to carry him with everything going on.”

Your eyes wander across the backyard trying to find little Alex, only to see him laughing his heart out whilst being tossed mid-air by none other than his godfather. 

“See, bringing him along had consequences,” Catherine shakes her head with a smile, retreating. “Who told these guys my son is a shiny new toy to be played with?” 

A gentle smile creeps up your lips as you watch them from afar. You were sure you missed the rest of what Cath had to say. She rushes down the deck and lets herself be engulfed in Kris’ embrace, telling her to let Alex enjoy his time with his uncles. 

Meanwhile, as you savor the view that is, Sidney interacting with a child, you find yourself holding your stomach, thinking of your own. 

You were already six weeks and five days in when you found out about your pregnancy. Sidney had gone home to his folks in Nova Scotia and you were alone to sit and deal with the sudden news. Claire was the first person you told such news to. You did not have much of a choice. You were miles away from home and she was the only family you had in the city. 

You were nervous and shocked. On top of all, you were scared. You were scared because you were not ready with such a huge responsibility. At least you know you’re not. 

You and Sidney were always so so careful with these things. However, that one time the two of you have happened to have been careless– was also the time you have forgotten and missed a shot. 

Why not tell Sidney? Truth be told, that was the very first question Claire had asked you the first time you met with her. You did not give her an answer other than you not being ready. But of course, that was not entirely true. You were not ready to tell Sidney because you do not exactly know how he would take it. You know he is going to be happy once he does, you just hope that that would be the case regardless of where he is now in his career.

You being pregnant is certainly a lot to take. But, as you stand watching from afar, seeing Alex with Sidney makes your heart grow tenfold. It is as if it was all enough to alleviate your worries away. 

You have given yourself enough time to prepare how you would tell him the news. And even though you were still uncertain on how much you want to have this baby, you know that you intend to keep it. 

𖥸

When Sidney’s Pittsburgh home was being built, a long dinner table that could seat as many members of the team was a primary factor in the decision. In the same table thereafter, he was able to host numerous dinner parties, all that he had to and did not. 

Tonight, however, unlike all the other nights that have come and gone, two things were resting inside your guts. Sidney’s unborn child and the weight of such news for his father. But of course he was not the one who’s going to have to deal with that. 

Every couple sat together while the bachelors were scattered in between. Perhaps, to fill in the gaps. Sidney was at the end of the table whilst Geno was on the other side. His hand was resting on top of Anna’s in contrast to yours that was, well – empty. 

You were by Sidney’s side. Like always, you watch him as he glows. A smile of pride printed widely on his face, his eyes that have always become more meaningful in front of all these important people, and his words, words you know very well he’ll live up to great lengths as much as he could. 

But somehow, even though you were sitting right beside him, you felt like you were the one who was actually seated at the other end of the table. Anyway, why should you? This has been pretty normal to you. This is your life. 

After all, you’ve spent years contented with just ‘kind of’ being there, in the background – blending in. Always with a gentle and welcoming smile prepared. Always behind the captain. 

That was normal to you and you accepted it with all of your heart because no matter how you felt, Sidney was able to compensate for that particular lacking. He made sure you were the one. May it be with a ring-less finger for all eight years, you were the one. Within arm’s reach or not, everybody knew who you were.

You remember the first time you met Sidney. 

You were just an associate at your old firm. That morning, you happened to be the first one in the office. Another associate, who was supposed to aid a particular partner, was not there. You didn’t have a choice. Well, not that you were left with any. 

You were told that the partner was scheduled to sign some hot-shot client. An athlete looking for representation. An athlete whose name you’ve never heard of. Nevertheless, you did not care because the only concern you had then was closing the deal. So, you did. 

Sidney shook your hand at that meeting. You remember it vividly because clients do not usually pay that much attention other than to the senior partner. You were used to getting a look – a nod, whether welcoming or not, because that’s the most you get. However not with Sidney. 

Not only did he shake your hand, Sidney introduced himself. He smiled at you and told you that it was nice meeting you. The man was polite. He knew how to pick the right words. Calculate and mature. He was a guy who knew his manners well. A standup guy. A true gentleman. A breath of fresh air in a dog eat dog world. It was true indeed; chivalry isn’t dead with Sidney Crosby.

You do not know how it happened, but somehow, years later – as soon as you left that firm, you got a message from Sidney Crosby asking if you’d be interested in going out with him. 

After all those things, you have not been able to look back since.

Devoid of the fact that you don’t always stay in the background, Catherine sees a quiet smile from you. A very telling gesture from the woman who has stuck with the man for so long. However, it seemed as though something needed to be pieced out. She just did not know exactly where to look. 

She takes a sip of her wine, trying to laugh at a joke aimlessly thrown at the table so as to take her attention away from you. 

Why?

Because no matter how proud you are of Sidney, regardless of the approval look you had on your face, your eyes seemed to be wanting more. Perhaps more than what Sidney is prepared to give. 

Catherine hopes she’s wrong. 

𖥸

Anna was the last person you said goodbye to before you closed the front door. 

The Letangs were the first ones to go because Alex was beat. The child was already sound asleep in Cath’s arms by the time Sidney was just talking about wanting to open a couple more bottles of wine. 

Thankfully, he wasn’t able to. You were obviously unprepared for what's to come if people would have seen you not drinking. Or worse, putting Sidney in such an awful situation for why you’re having a hard time explaining why you haven’t touched a glass in the entire night. 

You can’t simply have that happen. 

You were busy putting away left-overs when you caught Sidney entering the room. 

He gently puts the glass he’s holding down the kitchen island just as he comes near you. You feel him wrap his arms around your waist. He plants a small kiss atop your shoulder ever so slightly. You hum to acknowledge his presence, smiling to yourself.

“Tonight’s been fun. Thank you.” he breathes near your ear as he says it. 

“You’re welcome, honey.” you softly return. 

You feel his hands move from embracing your body to settling on your waist. They then swiftly move to your stomach, nearing your abdomen. You fail to bite back a smile as you feel a rather familiar sensation.

Slowly, Sidney draws small circles with his thumb, the fabric of your dress moving along with his finger. He plants sweet wet kisses on your nape. The two of you stay that way for a while before he takes all that’s in his will to let go of you. 

He takes a whiff of your hair, indulging himself. You softly chuckle. 

Sidney does the same and says, “I’ll go start with the dishes.” 

The massive kitchen island parts you and Sidney in the middle, making home to a brief quietude that is now settling in the room. You watch his back move further away from you as he heads towards the sink, later on tending to a mountain load of dishes. 

This is life with Sidney. You cook dinner, he washes the plates. The peace in the mundane, if you will. But while you’ve had a good time enjoying it on your own, you know it was meant to be shared with more than just you and Sidney.

“Having Alex around today was fun, you know.” you begin. 

Sidney looks over his shoulder with quite a proud grin, unsuspecting. “Yeah, it really was.” 

That was a good start. 

“Listen,” you put away the last container in front of you. 

“Cath told me she and Kris could use a bit of time to be alone.” 

Sidney hums, washing the dishes still. 

“I told her we can look after Alex whenever she needs to. I hope that’s okay?” 

“He’s my godson. Of course, I’d be happy to.” he genuinely replies. To that, you felt relieved. 

As you are, you take all the containers left atop the island so you could put the rest of it away in the refrigerator. 

“That’s great! I’m sure they’d love to do it for us when it’s our turn.” you kiddingly say. Not that it isn’t going to happen anytime soon.

Immediately, the white noise coming from the faucet dissipates. Sidney was silenced, if not more, shocked by a notion shot mindlessly into thin air. 

He laughs uncomfortably. He takes the white cloth to dry his hands just as he faces you. 

Let the dishes be damned.

“W-What do you mean ‘our turn’?” 

You see him wearing a smile he rarely ever shows. 

“Well, I mean- when it is our turn to have an ‘Alex’ around.” you tell him. “Don’t you think they’d be happy to lend us a hand as well?” 

Nervously, Sidney massages his nape, letting out yet another uneasy chuckle. 

“You think about that kind of stuff?” he asks, scared of what the answer might be. 

You walk back to the kitchen island and lean your hands on the cold marbled surface. The answer to the question has lingered in your mind even before Sidney had to ask. 

“It’s been a while, honestly. But yes, I do.” you inform him with a foolish smile and frankly, with hope evident in your eyes. “I do think about it, Sid.” 

He sees the look you had and is smart enough to avoid it. Though, not so much as to not let you catch a glimpse of it. He folds his arms close to his chest whilst his breathing becomes apparent. Almost as if panic was boiling in his guts, starting to kick in. 

“We have not really talked about this, haven’t we?” you laugh at the sight of him totally freaked out. 

“I suppose we haven’t.” he shortly replies, becoming uninterested.

Clueless of the matter, you tilt your head adorably, giving him a sweet smile. “Well, don’t you think we should?” 

To which Sidney returns the same. He makes his way towards you so he can pull you closer. He plants a small kiss, just like he did moments ago, on your temple. 

He answers blankly, one that comes right out his nose – one that he knows he doesn’t have to truly mean for you to think otherwise.

“I do.” 

You look up at him, giving him a peck on his chin. “So why don’t we then?” 

For a moment, you see him struggle for words. He blinks a few times, clears his throat, and finally lets go of you. 

“Really?” he asks, hands now resting on his waist, “now?”

“Yeah, now.” You lean towards the table. You shrug your shoulders still wearing the same hopeful smile. Maybe even finding a freaked-out Sidney adorably funny. “Hey, what’s the matter?”

To your dismay however, Sidney avoids looking at you. 

“But isn’t it a bit late? We’re both tired and–” 

With the change in his voice, you slowly catch on. 

“Now, Sidney.” you stated.

In the long years you have spent with him, you could not recall a time where the two of you were able to sit down and talk about the ‘idea’ of starting a family. 

Now that you think about it, the conversations you’ve had with him on the table were always about his career or yours. It centered on everyone else’s lives and how it affected yours and Sidney’s. The conversations stretched from what he wanted to have for dinner. Italian? Something his mom made for him back home? Whose turn it was to do the laundry or whether either one of you was coming home late and the other should no longer wait up. None of it ever came to wedding bells nor bassinets. That was the extent of it. It always was. 

You watch him scratch his temple, perhaps thinking of a way out. 

Was this really the right time to talk about it? You think to yourself. 

Well, it’s not like the baby would be the one to tell him. 

Or will it?

You shake your intrusive thoughts and begin to face the music. 

Deciphering Sidney’s demeanor, it was now your turn to be nervous. 

“What is it, Sidney?”

Sidney dismisses, “Nothing.” 

“No, it’s not nothing.” you counter, “Why don’t you want us talking about it?”

Evident annoyance fashioned his words, he says, “It’s not that I don’t want to. I just don’t think we’re ready.” 

You argue, “Neither am I but what does it even take to be ready?”

“I don’t know.” he tells you. He further questions, “Is not knowing a good enough reason not to talk about it?” 

You back away, hurt. Nevertheless, you start to interrogate. “Are you telling me we’re not going to have this conversation?” 

“I never said that.” 

“What are you saying then? ‘Cause it sure as hell is not the same as I am.” you bite.

Sidney continues to avoid your gaze, pinning his sight elsewhere but you. He knew that this was going to be more than just a talk.

“What? Now you’re not saying anything? How could you be avoiding this?” you question him, pressing on the matter even more.

“Damn it!” Sidney bites back. “I’m not avoiding it! You were the one who attacked me–” 

“Attack you? Goodness. How am I attacking you?” you sarcastically laughed.

At a loss for words, Sidney shakes his head. “Now is just not a good time.” 

“You just told me you do want to talk about it.” you remind him. 

“Yeah, some other time! Not like this– not when you’re all over me!” he says, gesturing wildly to make a point. 

Confused by how misleading his words were, you continue to try to understand where he was coming from. “We haven’t even begun discussing an inch and now you’re telling me I’m all over you? This was not even an argument a while ago.”

“Well, it is now!” Sidney retorts with a voice he has never used before. If it wasn’t you, other people would have already flinched. But you know damn well to stand your ground. 

Calmly, as if there was no other way, you finally decide to ask him the question. 

“Don’t you want to have kids, Sidney?” 

When he fails to answer, you begin to realize that you might just be facing a reality that you’re clearly not ready for. 

He struggles to answer. “I- I don’t know.”

Having slapped with the cold hard truth, you struggle just the same. 

You do know now. He doesn’t want to have kids. He just doesn’t know it yet. Maybe he does. Maybe he just won’t admit it. He doesn’t know. That was certain. But even then, you needed to make sure. You had to make sure. Because now, it wasn’t just you who was on the line. 

“Do you think you’ll know when the time comes?” you nervously ask. 

He looks at you as if to try to figure out the expression you had on your face. It was clear that he was trying to choose the right words. You just didn’t know what words he was going to settle with. Words that were meant to appease you or words he truly and genuinely felt?

He lets go of an uneasy laugh, evidently trying to make light of the moment. “Why are you so in a rush to talk about this anyway? It’s not like you’re pregnant or anything.”

As words elude you, you were left with nothing but to look at him – with no more ammunition. 

“You’re not pregnant, are you?” Sidney asks, starting to wish he hadn’t said a thing.

“What if I am?” You regain yourself and begin to ask the right questions. “Will you still feel the same way?”

“Don’t do this to me.” he pleads, saying your name.

You don’t say a thing and let him get it all on his own. 

“Y/N.” he calls for your name yet another time. A desperate appeal. 

Finally, you decide to break the news. 

“Six weeks and five days, Sid.” 

Such news, however delightful on your end, was not one that was well-received by Sidney. 

He lets go of a sigh of defeat, hands traveling onto his hair, pushing it back frustratingly. 

“How– how did it happen? We always use protection.” Despite grasping for words, he refuses to drown. 

Appalled by his choice of concern, you repeat what he said, “Protection? Really Sidney? Of all things, that’s what you’re concerned about?” 

Sidney’s jaw tightens, “Just answer me, will you?” 

So, you did. You answer with the truth, “I missed a shot.” 

“Goddamn it.” He whispers just enough for you to hear. 

Sidney walks away from you. Hands all over himself, devoid of sanity, unsure of where to put them.

How could you possibly do this to him? That was the question running in his head. How could you do this to him? You know this will hurt his career. You know this is the last thing he needed. Hell, the very thing he will never need. And yet, here you are, bearing an unwanted gift.

He sees you standing across the room just like his future moving farther from him. Fatherhood may have worked on Kris or his other teammates, to name a few. But he knows that it would never work on him. Definitely not for Sidney. What do they know, anyway? They don’t hold the same expectations as Sidney does. He is The Kid. He’s not about to throw it all away for a child. Not now. Not ever.

He knows what a kid does to a person. He knows what it can do to someone unprepared. It changes their life. It ruins them. If that much can happen to someone who did want a child, what more to someone who doesn’t? 

Sidney hoped he did not have to know. 

Until now.

“Fuck it! I told you I don’t know!” his emotions begin to consume him – getting a better hold of him. He looks at you feeling alone and defeated. “I don’t want to know and I don’t intend to know!” 

Overwhelmed by how he was reacting, you quietly ask, “Do you really feel that way?” 

He paces from one end of the room to the other, looking at you in between. It was evident that he was fuming and unsure of where to direct his emotions. It came as a surprise, sure. But you did not expect he’d react this way. One that is very unlike him. Selfish. Unkind. Almost cruel. 

It was as if he was not Sidney.

Absently, your hand travels onto your stomach. Scared. 

His eyes catches it. He sees you holding your stomach as if to protect it from him. Him. It has not even been born yet and here you were, choosing the thing over him. 

“How could you do this to me?” Finally, Sidney voices out the question circling his head.

Here you were, carrying his child, and he still has the audacity to put the entire blame on you. Neither of you planned this. You did not know you’d want it until you have it. You just happened to hope Sidney would have reacted the same. 

Only he didn’t. Regardless of his selfish reasons, the bottom-line is: he did not. 

“I don’t want a baby.”

He makes it clear. 

“There is a baby, Sid.” you sternly say. “Whether you like it or not.”

You watch him take a deep breath. A desperate cry, perhaps. His footsteps slowly recede from you. He takes his coat off of the rack just as he looks at you with apologetic eyes. 

“I’m sorry.” he says. “I can’t do this.”

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note: you know how much of a sucker i am for interaction so lmk what you think and i hope you liked this chapter ♡

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[barzzal]

call me crosby → part five

summary: Young, reckless, and rash, an unplanned pregnancy causes a massive rift in your relationship with then, cup-hungry 27 year-old Sidney Crosby. As he gets caught up in his own childish and selfish ways, confused to what was once certain, he lets you struggle alone. His absence reasons a miscarriage scare that leads you to end the relationship. Years after losing you, having to live a life that’s surrounded with the families his friends have built through the years embodies his greatest regret. Now with three cups and tons of awards at his disposal, Sid is given a chance to right his wrongs and win what was once the biggest loss of his life.

pairing: sidney crosby x fem!reader gen. warnings: language and theme, co-parenting, mentions of pregnancy & false miscarriage, sexual/suggestive themes, 18+ ch. warnings: angst, fluff (YES), language, harsh arguments, swearing  genre: hockey rpf, fluff, angst, kid-fic, exes to lovers length: series; 10.8k masterlist: the barn, series masterlist track: just hit up the track on the series masterlist

note: LONG WAIT IS OVERRR. seriously, nothing but love for yall for understanding the slow update. i tried not closing in on a one year hiatus but i failed mb! immaculate patience i gotta say. love u all sm and i hope you are still here to see this update and enjoy it. happy reading! <3 (gif used: mine)

disclaimer: this is a work of fiction. teasers, interviews, events, and the like that are included in the series are purely made for fictional purposes and do not/should not represent any of the names involved in real life. please proceed with caution.

Apart from all the things that concerned hockey, Summer was one of the luxuries Sidney has allowed himself in terms of living his days off the ice. Flying back to Nova Scotia is something he’s looked forward to the most each time the season ends for the Pittsburgh Penguins. Although now, instead of him spending days on end playing golf, or quiet mornings fishing by the lake back home, sipping coffee till it runs cold, the captain stayed in Pittsburgh just so he could stay on the ice a little bit more. 

Only this time, to spend it with no one else but his son. 

“Dad, come on now!” the boy of nine years whined. 

“You’re hogging the puck!” he adds.

Sidney hears Alex chirp his father as he watches the two of them warm up on the rink. Kris, apart from being one hell of a goofy teammate, could definitely pass as the same age as his son. 

“I’m hogging no pucks, young man. You’re giving it away too much!” Kris snickers with too much pride. 

The days that came following Sidney’s outburst and your incapacity to actually let him into your life were awkward, to say the least. It was as if you and Sidney were back to square one. Goodness— not that you ever made progress in doing so but, it is what it is, as the kids today say. 

You were both stuck on an endless loop, swaying back and forth, waiting; always testing the waters. Unsure of what the future really holds for the two of you. Nevertheless, it was a loop that you needed to break away from. Until then, Sidney’s determined to put your issues aside and focus on the most important person in his life. 

“Hey, big man.” he calls to him, taking his attention off of Alex, his newfound playmate. 

“Yes?” Luke absently answers, staring at his own version of a thin and endless void. Thinking about what goes on in the mind of a five-year-old. Why can't he have candies before dinner?

“Ready to get into some cooler pads?” 

The child looks up at him, curiosity inkling from within. 

“But, I’m already wearing mine… and they’re already cool.” he declares, small hands traveling down his jersey and onto his shin pads to further stress on his point. 

“Yeah, I know.” his father shrugs, his eyes painted with a soft glint as he looks at him. “Though, I think I have something else you’d like to try on.”

“Really? What is it?” The boy inquires. 

“Come. I’ll show you.” He maintains his warm smile just as he offers his hand for him to hold. 

Luke, without much hesitation, takes Sidney’s hand and begins treading alongside his father’s footsteps as they head back to the dressing room. 

Sidney pushes the locker room door with ease. Across the room awaits a new set of fresh goalie equipment.

Like any child would, ‘Woah!’ was what managed to escape Luke’s mouth the moment his eyes met something new and flashy.

With his little voice, he inquires, “What is that?”

Sidney gently places a hand on the back of his child, encouraging him to move forward. 

“It’s a goalie gear.” he simply answers, going down on one knee so he could level with him.

“Wow.” he breathes out, voice evidently caught in awe at the sight of something definitely massive for a boy his size. 

“This is a goalie gear?” Luke absently repeats in query as he takes his time examining the gear from head to toe. 

It wasn’t his first time, per se, given the glimpses he’s had whenever Sidney took him out the rink but the boy is yet to appreciate, to really reel it in into his system, that he was in fact, trying on his very first goalie equipment for the very first time.

To say that Sidney had a hard time dialing down the design of his only son’s goalie equipment would be an understatement. The gear didn’t miss the black and gold prints, like the one fashioning Tristan’s and Marc-Andre’s from when he was still a Penguin. Still, regardless of it resembling the team’s famed colors, Luke’s gear was modest and subtle — clearly made in a way to make an impression but not so much as to overwhelm and drown out the innocence of a child. 

“Well… yeah,” Sidney tread slowly, ruffling the boy’s hair. “It’s yours, buddy.” 

Expecting that he’d be as pumped as the other kids over some fresh gear, Sidney takes a while when all that Luke did was to turn his gaze back onto him, knitting in mind yet another simple query. 

“Mine? Why?” he asks, voice registering in a higher tone laced in a child-like curiosity.

“Uh,” Sidney puffs air off his mouth, thinking of a better answer than the actuality of a father just wanting to spoil his son. The subtlety is appalling. If only you had known.

“I just thought you’d want something extra protective to wear since we’re going to hit the net today.” 

The little boy tilts his head. Unabashed. 

“Am I gonna fit into it?” he asks, mouth curled into a pout, not really buying any of what the man is telling him. He looks down on his fragile figure as if to show Sidney that they’ve got a lot to work on with.

Sidney fails and chuckles.

“Do you wanna try? I actually got one too.” He forfeits and uses one of the big guns. He knows that it would certainly have to take a lot for a kid to fully immerse himself out there. So, what more of a perfect time for Sidney to show that he could also be that kind of guy every now and then? Perhaps, maybe even more. Maybe even always.

Amused, and frankly, ecstatic to be hearing that he isn’t the only one getting into something new, Luke glances up to his father, mirroring his round and hopeful eyes.

“Really?” he cheers.

Sidney nods, letting his gaze flicker onto the much bigger equipment bag situated not too far from his son’s. He lifts the bag with ease and places it in front of the two of them in order for Luke to get a peek at what’s inside the huge black duffel bag. 

“Alright,” he breathes out after successfully fishing out the goalie gear he has only been seen wearing once to technically – never.

“I’ll show you how to get into it, okay?” he explains, little by little.

“Mkay!” Luke nods and the captain takes it as his cue to continue. 

Gear after gear, Sidney showed his son the ropes of suiting up as a goaltender. He’s got to admit, hearing the boy’s interest on goaltending has given his gear tucked away in his basement a new purpose; better than spending summers acing field matches with his sister, Taylor. Even if he wanted his son to pursue other things that he could call his own, Sidney’s thrilled to be given a chance to spend whatever time he has with his child in the very same place he finds serenity in. 

Once they are strapped and secured in their respective goaltender equipment, pads and personalized helmet included, looking chunkier than usual, Sidney stands in his skates and holds Luke’s hand as he helps him stand on his own. 

“Uh… Sidney? Uh-oh! Heavy!” Luke’s voice rises the moment Sidney lets go of his arms. He falls on his knees and lets out a grunt. Worried sick to his stomach, Sidney rushes to lift his son up to make sure that the weight of the entire equipment wouldn’t withstand him. 

“I fell!” Luke giggles as he lets himself fall on his behind. “Did you see me?” 

The child continues to laugh giddily, showing him how the pads he was wearing caught him on the fall. 

“I was like – woah! And then, I thought I was gonna get hurt, but these are really squishy on my butt!”

Sidney watched his son describe the little moment enthusiastically but if you were to ask, all he could think of was to breathe. And that exactly was the first thing he did. Breathe. Just breathe.

For the entire time you’ve managed to let him be alone with his son, Sidney is yet to do the real-dad-stuff he has only been daydreaming of for he who only knows how long. Even if it meant having to walk around eggshells just to stay within your mercy, he would. He’s not about to let his chances get blown just because he screwed up the one thing a real father should already know. And that is to never put his child in harm’s way.

Well, apart from all the close calls – and the still fairly upbeat kid standing in front of him quite cheerfully, it’s safe to say that Sidney hasn’t screwed up that one bit.

“Not gonna lie, you scared me.” The two boys laugh. Sidney crouches down, and double checks every check mark he’s already gone through twice the first time – for his own peace of mind.

“You ready to show these off?” he asks Lucas who was now making little twirls with his taped goalie stick.

“Yup! I want to show the guys!” Luke makes an enthusiastic hop and begins to lead the way back.

A quiet smile spreads along the lines of the captain’s lips – a smile reserved only to himself.

The guys.

𖥸 

Notably, there were quite a handful of friendly faces by the time the father and son had exited the locker room. It seemed like it was a busy day around the barn. 

Apart from the Penguins’ Big Three and their own mini-Me’s, the arena was a little more crowded than usual despite its exclusivity. There were a few more people walking around. Some were fixing stuff, some were loading equipment out by the back door, and some were just walking – driving mini-Zambonis from one end of the barn onto the other.

Sure, Sidney was caught a bit off-guard given the fact that he was holding hands with a boy that would highly be mistaken for who he was exactly, but his and Luke’s presence around the barn have been sort of an ‘open secret’ exclusive to those that Sidney trusts most in the area. 

Nevertheless, even if he felt a wee bit uneasy, he didn’t mind given the strings he had managed to pull personally just to safeguard his son’s own safety and security. He wasn’t going to let some random commotion ruin the day he had planned alongside his best buds and their own sons.

“What’s up, Joe?” he still finds the need to check, walking in his skates freely just like how he often walks around PPG Paints – except barefooted. He had his goalie glove tucked underneath his arms as he held Luke near his side, who was silently observing the small chat that was beginning to unfold right before him.

Joe, the man who was approximately ten years older than the captain, shrugs as he holds his fresh cup of coffee. Evidently in awe of seeing the captain in a different suit. Seeing the child holding Sidney’s hand, quietly observing, he doesn’t mention it.

He looked like every other average white man. The kind that every dad trusts and knows practically everything happening within the halls of the arena.

“Not much, kid. Just a bit hectic today. That’s all.” Joe tells him. He looks over his shoulder, eyes following Sidney’s line of sight.

“Who are those people?” Sidney asks.

Joe tutts to himself, absently scratching his nose as he tries to recognize who was leading the fresh group that just came in the building. They weren’t too many to cause a commotion but they were certainly enough to be noticed by Sidney.

“I’m a little short on that bit, capt’n. D’ya want me to check?” 

Knowing that Sid isn’t the type of guy to take too much of somebody’s time, he politely shakes his head and smiles, declining Joe’s offer. 

Sidney looks over his shoulder just as he turns away, paying one last glance onto the small group waiting by the door. 

“Ready?” 

He asks the little boy looking up at him with his ever doe eyes. 

“Yup!” 

𖥸 

Things were changing fast. 

Like the kind where you oversleep during the day and end up missing your train, the kind where you accidentally run into someone as you treat yourself for a nice cup of coffee or the fact that you’re now waking up on a Saturday just so you could meet your former girlfriends and get a quick breakfast run before you could all go and meet everyone’s husbands and sons skating their butts off for hockey. 

It didn’t take much for you to notice it really. One thing is for sure, things are beginning to slip through your fingers and the only thing you could do is to watch. 

Your life with your son wasn’t really surrounded by a lot of people. It was just you, your folks, and Claire for the most of it. Even with Cath knowing, she still made sure to keep distance. You didn’t mind because it was what you had to do in order to make sure that your son was going to be safe and away from all the chaos that embraced your life then with his father. You were happy and content in your guarded little life and so was your precious little Lucas. 

However, now, as you stand by the gates with Anna and Catherine, cheering on – waiving back and forth as you watch your own boys, you can’t help but admit that maybe… a part of you, the one that you thought you’ve already buried, was still alive. Somewhere six feet under. Perhaps, you just have to look further.

”Oh! Oh! Nikita! Oh my goodness!” you nearly hop on your toes as you witness Anna’s son speed right past Kris. You give your old friend a playful nudge, one that was reciprocated by her ever tantalizing smirk. It’s crazy how much you’ve forgotten about being in this exact environment. It almost feels like you never really left.

“Isn’t he wonderful?” Anna says with pride as the three of you share a series of cheers and applause. You watch over your young ones interact with each other almost as if they’ve known one another since the moment they were born.

“He’s incredible.” Catherine agrees, amused as she watches her own child grace the ice. 

Absently, she whispers to herself not realizing that you’d hear, “Too bad he won’t be wearing 87 now.”

An interest to ask what she meant by the statement sparks in you. 

“What do you mean?” you ask. 

“Oh!” she sputters, laughing shyly. “Alex went on an interview with Kris for the All-Star Games last year and he was asked which number he’s going to use if he were to play.” 

“And he said 87?” 

Cath nods, “He adores Sidney a lot.” 

You agree. Definitely. Even when you were with Sidney and Alex was as little as you could remember, the bond Alex shared with Sidney came off naturally, maybe in much more ways than the one Sid shares with his father. 

You finally cave and ask, “Why wouldn’t he wear Sid’s number?”

Cath gives you a side eye and breaks a teasing grin. 

“Who else should wear the captain’s number but the captain’s son?” 

Immediately catching on to the rising topic at hand, given that neither will let you off the hook now that you’re back in their lives, Anna raises an interesting point. 

“Speaking of the captain’s son, have you thought about my suggestion?” 

It was around the time Anna was handing back your purse as you and Sidney were about to leave Nikita’s birthday party. Originally, she was just toying with the idea of you and your Ex going out for a friendly dinner; entirely owed for old time’s sake. A suggestion that you gracefully declined. Obviously. 

However, just like Anna said, Sidney knowing about his son’s existence will affect the poor child involved more than it will affect the both of you. So, given how stubborn you and Sidney were before everyone’s eyes but your own, the truth that you kept denying will continue to haunt you and your little boy. 

Perhaps, going easy on the poor undeserving man that is, Sidney Crosby, would really be the rational step in determining the course of your new co-parenting setup. 

“Yes.” you finally answer. 

Anna and Cath expectantly speak in unison, exactly like they used to. 

“And?” 

For a moment, your gaze falls onto the end of the rink. 

There he was, teaching your child the only game he’s ever loved just like you’ve always dreamt of. 

Seeing your son with his father brings you back to when all of it was just a mere dream; a wishful thinking — an image that felt so surreal. The very image that you’ve wrapped around your head as you held that pregnancy test the night you found out about being pregnant with Luke. 

And while it also happens to be the same image Sidney willfully scratched and threw the second he got the chance, you manage to give him a tight-lipped smile as you both meet each other’s eyes. 

Sidney gives you a nod and smiles modestly. 

You do not feel the need to break the shared gaze yet and instead let out the words you have been holding back since you left for the rink. 

“I think I’m going to give it a try.”

𖥸 

The arena was nearly emptied by the time the boys got through with their practice. 

It was a surprise for you to see a handful of people walking around the vicinity upon arriving with Anna and Cath. You need not think much of it, though. After all, you take that Sidney’s not a stupid man to give you any more reason as to why you should take his son away from him for good.

“We’ll meet you out front.” were the last words Sidney gave you as he held Luke's hand. 

All you gave in return was a nod. 

Ever since the two of you reconnected, you have consistently remained remote and distant before Sidney’s eyes. He’s foreign to you now and he knows that despite it being hard, it’s the one and only pill he’s got to swallow just so he could have more of the less you are willing to spare. 

You met his gaze with uncertainty. One that made your palms sweat and cold simultaneously. The kind that you want to shake off after a day spent in the cold of winter. 

Sid wanted to ask you if something was wrong. If something was bothering you. He wanted to know because he felt it. But what can he do with this fragile, and frankly, already broken beyond repair dysfunctional dynamic of yours? 

You’re closed off for a reason. 

And he’s not about to rub his face in it like a madman. 

Devoid of what it really was that is going on in your mind, he chooses to move along.

You find yourself pacing around the parking lot as you wait for Sidney and your son. You’ve never felt this anxious in years. Fidgeting with your fingers. Fighting the urge to nibble on your nails as if you were some teen who’s about to go on their very first date. Stressing on the fact that yours and Sid’s is far from being an actual one, the thought of you asking him out makes your guts churn. And you know enough that it’s not the kind that will make you sick. 

Despite how you project your feelings articulately, you know in yourself that you were not entirely repulsed by Cath and Anna’s proposition. You wanted to see what’s more to him now beyond being the father of your son. 

Deep down you were curious as to whether he was still the man you once knew. The man who was so sure of himself, whose every move is calculated in pursuit of delivering what’s expected. Deep down you wanted to know if he was still as ugly, as flawed, and as insecure. Deep down you wanted to know if he was still a great pretender. And perhaps, deep down, you wanted to know if he was still the man whom you once loved regardless of all that ugliness.

“Mom!” 

Your son pulls you out of your trance. You see him walk hand in hand with Sidney. Luke was carrying his Little Penguins bag whilst Sidney had his equipment bag slung over his shoulder. Luke meets you with a warm and graceful smile, lighting up his face like it always had. Sidney, however, gives you a tight lipped smile. 

“Hey, you.” you greet your son as you ruffle his wild hair. 

“Did we make you wait long?” he asks, a thing that you quickly decline. 

You take Luke’s bag and open the door so he could climb onto his seat. 

“He did very well today.” Sidney says with a proud smile. Dignified to be having a son that is as amazing as the kid you were currently strapping in his car seat. 

Absently, you turn to Sidney with a grin, “He was amazing back there!” 

It was quiet for a moment once your glances met. You were both unsure of what to do next being that it was the first time that the two of you shared a juncture that wasn’t forced nor made for the benefit of a child.

You notice him trying to stifle the giddy look on his face. He looks down, pressing his lips together, before setting his eyes back at you. 

“He really is.” he states.

As he held the door open, putting you in between his towering figure and your son, you scratch on your eyebrow lightly — suppressing the fact that the look on his face evidently still had an effect on you. 

“Hey, uh,” you struggle, but manage to hide it. You tear your eyes away from him for a moment as you continue. “I know things between us have been pretty rough and I- well, Cath and Anna kind of suggested that we… you know,” 

Pull it together. You think, hesitating if this was a good idea.

Finally, you look at him, surprised to see an expecting gaze. You take it as a sign to continue. 

“That it’d be good for us to spend some time together. For Luke’s sake.” 

Breath caught in his throat, Sidney tries to calm himself. 

“Alright,” he says, already failing to contain his glee. “How about dinner at that little Italian place you like?” 

You try to choke a smile at how he still remembers. You press your lips just as you say, “Okay.”

“I’ll pick you up at home?”

You give him a nod. “I’ll arrange a sleepover for Luke.” 

𖥸 

As you head home, Luke takes upon the liberty to a simple request. He asks if the two of you could stop by the diner to have lunch instead of eating at home. Surely, you’d take the time to get your well-deserved Mom and Son date as often as you could. You quickly re-route, driving away the direction towards home. 

Like always, it didn’t take long for your food to arrive. You sat on your usual seat. The corner booth next to a floor to ceiling window overlooking the quaint little corner of the neighborhood. 

You ordered your usual. Your son, on the other hand, has gotten a liking of Mckinnon’s chicken and spaghetti combination. A thing that was, of course, introduced by his father. The diner did not have it on their menu so you had to make separate orders. Either way, you’re certain that there’ll be left-overs. And your son would just probably ask for it once more come dinner time. 

“How is it?” you ask as you watch him get through with his first bite. 

“Good.” he swallows and continues, “But not as good as the one Sid makes.”

Intrigued, you raise a brow and ask why.

“He lets me add sugar in it.” he casually answers, swirling the fork on his plate to get another bite.

Sugar, huh? That’s Lucas. But Sidney? Not so much. You know how easy Sidney is weirded by anything outside of the status quo. You ask your son another question. 

“Really? What did he think about it?” 

This is one of the times where you get to learn how he really treats your son. You make it a point to observe how Sidney acts with Luke when you’re around, yes. But this? The conversations you try to have with him and how Sidney is through the lenses of your five-year-old boy is what you will always be after. 

You have been letting Luke spend time with his father with Kris, Geno, and their own sons. It was not much of a contest to know when and where he got this “new” thing from. 

“Mm.” Luke nods with a mouthful of pasta. “He said it’s interesting. That it is ‘very me.’” 

Filled with content, you settle with giving him a soft smile. You reach for his cheeks to wipe some marinara stain off his face. 

Suddenly, almost as if to catch you off guard, Luke blurts out a question.

“Do you like Sidney?” 

It was the first time he’s ever asked that question. Or even something that concerned Sidney in particular. 

The subject of Sidney, Kris’ hockey-instructor friend, has never been brought up by him on the table. You’ve always been the one to ask him questions just to make sure that he was having a good time. And that he was safe; that Sidney was keeping his word. 

You try to think of an answer. One that didn’t take long enough for him to ask you another time. 

“Yep. He’s good at hockey.” you answer. 

“What about you? Do you like Sidney?” 

You throw the question back subtly. Which was then met by your unsuspecting child’s enthusiastic nods. 

“I do! He’s pretty awesome.” he tells you with quite a proud grin printed on his face. He adds, “He’s like Kris… but way cooler.” 

You chuckle, finding a breath of fresh air at his innocence. 

“What do you think about having him around more often now?” 

Devoid of the pivotal query, Luke tells you, “It’s alright. As long as I still get to eat here with you.” 

You feel your chest warm. Despite being overwhelmed countless times, your son just has a way with you; muted yet loud all at the same time. 

“Whom do you like more? Mom or Sidney?” 

You try to butter yourself up once more. Now you’re just playing favorites. The ‘I get to be the Mom’ card at best. 

Without a doubt and a second spared, you see his face lit up.

As suspected, he speaks your name softly with his head tilted adorably.

 “Mommy.”

“I love that.” you lightly pinch his cheek. 

“I like having lunch with you,” he says. 

“Is that so?” 

“Uh-huh.” Luke settles his drumstick down and answers simply, “I like it when it’s just you and me.” 

𖥸 

With his hair fashioned neatly with pomade and dressed a little more grand than he does on game days, Sidney takes a deep breath, both hands clasped just enough not to choke the life out of the bouquet of white lilies he’s holding as he stands on your doorstep. 

He was certain that he was almost cool by the time he left his home. But no matter how much he tries to ignore it, he just couldn’t ignore how he feels when a situation involves you. 

You both agreed to meet at 7. You proposed meeting him at the restaurant but that was a proposition he respectfully declined. He insisted on picking you up at your house. He has always been gentlemanly whenever he took you out on date nights before so it wasn’t entirely foreign. Not that you’re thinking this particular night was one. 

He checks himself one last time, balling his hand into a fist. He knocks on your door almost an hour before the agreed time. 

You, on the other hand, were dressed and ready to leave. Your body is embraced by a sage green dress. You’re wearing heels that were considerably impractical for this particular outing but were still fairly manageable. You’ve gone through all your rituals of dressing up and the only thing you’re yet to do is to open that door. 

If only you didn’t get that stupid work call. 

You have been stuck in front of your desk trying to figure out how your colleague managed to mess up one of the most crucial cases your team is currently handling. Basically, for lack of a better way to put it, you have been plastering band-aids in an effort to mitigate more potential losses for almost a full hour. 

You hurry downstairs when you hear the doorbell ring a second time. You knew it was Sidney given that you weren’t really expecting anyone but him. It just so happens that the first ring wasn’t enough for you to take your hands off the computer. 

You found Sidney, pretty much like a statue, in the same stance as he was when he arrived minutes ago. He was wearing a clean white button-down shirt underneath a black suit. Pretty traditional. Very Sidney.

You see him with the same quiet smile he has since learned from the first time you agreed to meet with him. It was something you didn’t really pay attention to in the past. But right now, you’ve got to admit that it is slowly growing on you. 

“Hi.” you say at once. 

Awkward laughter soon envelops the two of you. And no, it wasn’t the kind you see in movies. It wasn’t the kind that will make you try to suppress a smile or ignore the knowing tingle creeping down your spine. It was neither the kind that made you feel a sudden rush of heat on your nape nor the kind that made you want to stay. 

It was more of the unsettling unfamiliarity of something that you were once familiar with. The uncertainty of knowing what is already behind the door you just opened. The fact that you once knew it like the back of your hand. 

You’ve risked enough and now you’re here, putting yourself at risk yet again just by being with Sidney Crosby.

How can you be so cautious yet still be undoubtedly endangered all at the same time?

“Am I too early?” he asks, afraid to come off too strong – too desperate.

To his relief, he sees you smile, acknowledging his presence. 

“No. Not at all. Come in.”

Sidney follows you through the door, aiming towards the very small distance parting the doorway and the living room. He takes off his coat and takes your invitation to make himself comfortable. 

You weren’t sure where to start. It is the first time that the two of you will be alone completely without Luke and everyone else. And frankly, you’re both well-aware that you haven’t been together in such an enclosed space for quite a long time. You barely manage to act right when your son’s around. What made you think you’ll be able to stomach an entire night alone with the man you swore you loathe?

“Do you want anything to drink?” you ask, giving him the usual choices of coffee, tea, and water.

“Water’s just fine.” he answers politely. 

You give him an acknowledging nod as you make your way towards the kitchen. 

Sidney watches you retreat in the hallway. His eyes travel through the same spread he’d seen when he first stepped into your home. He must admit that the house exudes a different light at night time. It’s even more calming now that the only thing he hears is you. It almost feels like he is coming home. 

He clears his throat, trying to shake off the image out of his mind. 

“Where’s Luke staying by the way?”

Busy with filling your guest a glass of water, you answer, “Oh, he’s with Claire.” 

There was a sheer moment of silence. You wonder if the distance between the living room and the kitchen was enough for him to hear or that he just didn’t have anything else to say. Despite that, you choose to talk as you make your way back.

“Anyway, she’ll drop him off first thing in the morning.” you inform him. 

Sidney accepts the beverage with a nod; having no need to respond. He takes a sip and gently puts down the glass on the coffee table. He entwines his hands and looks up at you as if to wait for you to take the next course of action. It’s hard enough that the two of you are going through this night blindly. You just didn’t expect that having asked him out also meant having to sit out and fill awkward silences such as this with an appalling series of desperate small talks. 

“Are you comfortable here?” you flutter your eyes and look away. “I’m actually doing a bit of work right now. I don’t think we can go yet-” 

Sidney watches how half-hearted you were. He knows you didn’t really want him around. And if the odds of him being right are in fact aligned to break him all the more than he’s already had, he knows that you were actually wishing for him to decline instead of being stuck with him for the night. 

So, with a gaping hole in his chest, he says, “Don’t worry about me. We still have an hour before the reservation.” 

You mouth an ‘okay’ and give him a tight lipped smile before heading back to your office. 

𖥸 

Sidney watches the beads of condensation trickle down the glass just as it rests on the surface of the coaster. He looks at the time and sees that it was almost 7. There’s no way that you’ll make it in time for the reservation even if you leave now. 

He drinks what’s left of the drink you’ve given him. He looks back towards the door to your home office. He has planned to remind you of the time half an hour ago if only you weren’t on a phone call. He’s heard the conversation, not that eavesdropping was his intention, and the distance he shares with you is just enough to let him know that bothering you was not an option. 

A quiet smile creeps on his lips as he hears you manage work so elegantly. He can only imagine the stress you’re in now, but he just knows that behind that very closed door, is a woman who’s still calm, kind, and composed in spite of what’s beating her up. 

He hears your muted but still discernible commanding voice. That alone sends Sidney back to his seat, wanting to bask in what was once the normalcy of his life a bit longer. He can’t help but think of how much it really was that he’s missed over the years. Not just with Luke but with his child’s mother too.

Getting to know his son is an entirely different narrative from having to learn a person he once knew through and through. To know you from a narrow perspective he knows that you purposely let him, is just one of the many thorns he’s got to hold onto to ensure that he won’t lose you this time around. 

If he has to live with the gnawing pain and consequences of the past, then so be it. 

𖥸 

You had just gotten off the phone when you heard a knock on your door. 

Shit. Sidney. 

You look at the time. It was already past 7. You quickly collect yourself, fix your hair a bit, and head for the door. 

You greet him with a “Hi.” that comes off a little squeaky given the realization that you might have just inadvertently screwed up your night with Sidney. You hurriedly get your purse, almost pushing him out of your way. 

“I’m ready.” you say, trying to ignore the fact that you’re late and have undeniably missed the reservation. 

Sidney chuckles and looks at you amazed. With quirked brows you question, “What are you waiting for? Come on.” 

He calls your name and says, “It’s okay.”

You sigh and let go of the front door. Finally surrendering. 

“I’m sorry.” you tell him. You know you’re not going to make it. 

With a tight-lipped smile, he says, “Apology accepted.” 

“What are we gonna do? We can still catch a few walk-ins. I know a good Mexican place.” you suggest.

“It’s raining.” he informs, making you peek through the curtain. 

You shrug, trying to play it cool. “We can make a run for it.” 

Sidney laughs and shakes his head. He looks at you from head to toe and jokingly says, “In those shoes? It’s okay. Really.” 

You roll your eyes at him. 

“No, it’s not okay.” you say, letting your shoulders fall. “I’m starving.”

He thinks for a second and puts his hands in his pockets. 

“Well, do you have anything to eat around here?” 

You click your tongue. You have just gone out to do groceries so there is something you could eat. 

“I suppose we could have dinner here.” you say. “But I honestly don’t think I still have energy nor the will to cook.”

Sidney gives you quite a confident grin, rolls up both his sleeves and says, “Who said that you’re gonna?”

𖥸 

Frankly, after years apart, you’ve never thought of seeing Sidney rummaging through your fridge in search of what to cook for dinner. You’ve never imagined him moving so swiftly as if he knew where everything was and yet he is doing it exactly right before your eyes.

“Anything good?” you ask, leaning against the counter with your arms folded to your chest.

It took a while for him to answer. He takes a deep breath, finalizing all that he could get in a single run. He turns to face you with a number of things in hand. He sets it all down the kitchen island before he finally gives you an answer; one that made an idea come to mind. 

“How does pasta sound?” he asks.

It is without a doubt that you were intrigued by your son’s choice of food for lunch time. Luke has happened to talk so highly of it that it makes you want to try it for yourself. 

“Actually,” Sidney waits for you to continue. “Luke’s been talking non-stop about that Spaghetti you made him.” 

He chuckles shyly, warmth spreading throughout his chest. 

“Glad I made an impression.” he says with a deep breath, masking a grin. 

“I’m glad you two are getting along.” 

For a moment, you catch Sidney off-guard. It was as though what you’ve just told him meant a lot more than it actually did. 

“Really?” 

He needed to confirm. 

And so you did. 

“Really.” 

It had been a while since Sidney came back into your life and he knew that too. But if you thought he already was, all this time, Sidney felt like a bystander. Someone who watches from a door that’s opened three-inches for him and him alone. A glimpse, if you must, whilst all the others get to be on the other side; welcomed with open arms. 

For that while, he’s begun to accept that he’ll remain at arms length. You may have let him get to know his son, but he knew that you’ll never let him get to know you. Through time, all you’ve let him have are the pieces that were already with him. The ones you’ve worked so hard to forget; the ones that are already worn out and discarded. Tonight, for the first time, Sidney felt like he was being invited in and finally acknowledged. 

A lot is going on in his mind as he looks at you from a distance, produce in hand. He badly wants to break every wall you put up to keep him at bay but he’s fully aware that it will take so much more than just that. He caused the space that grew between the two of you. And he knew very well that it would take a lot in order to mend it. 

“Alright then. Spaghetti it is.” 

Silence is broken as Sidney tears his eyes away from you. 

And you were glad that he did. 

You clear your throat and say, “I’ll start on the salad.”

𖥸

It wasn’t long before dinner. Sidney managed to stage the dining table as if the two of you had successfully gone through with the original plan. At least, you were still having Italian. 

You let him have his way around your home and guided him where the things that he needed were placed. He lit up a few candles and even pulled the chair out for you. The only thing he let you do was to put away the flowers he’s given you and place it on the dining table. 

In comparison to when you were dating, Sidney has gotten a lot better in the kitchen. Craftier; which meant sexier too. 

As the two of you sit at the dining table, Sidney, nervous and with apparent eagerness in his eyes, watches you have your first bite of your son’s favorite meal. He knows that it’s a little sweet and is meant to be eaten by a kid, so he’s prepared for the obvious. 

He waits for a short while; still watching your inscrutable face. 

And finally, as you pull the fork away, he sees you glow with surprise; eventually drifting in bliss. 

“Oh my god.” you say. 

He straightens up on his seat, “How is it?” 

“I knew that I wasn’t supposed to like this, but it… works.” 

Sidney chuckles. “Weird, isn’t it?” 

You acknowledge him, “It is.”

“Do you want me to teach you how to make it? I can whip out a recipe for you.” 

It was kind of him to offer but you decline. He does nothing but nods, respecting your wishes yet again. Sidney begins to eat. 

Feeling that you need to rescue his now bruised ego, you shake your head, calling his attention.

“It’s just that, I think it’s good for you and Luke to have something to share alone. You know, besides hockey.” 

Oh. 

This time, lightness exudes off Sidney as he nods. “Thank you.”

He catches you smiling in acknowledgement before the two of you proceed to eat in silence. 

Sidney hasn’t been in your home for this long. Apart from the first time, your home still possessed a lot of character that evidently made an impression. 

“Are those Luke’s?” he asks, nodding his head over to a pile of drawing books neatly placed on a small table.

You follow his eyes and land onto your son’s creative corner. The one that’s meant to entertain him for when you get busy in the kitchen. You tell him that it was before eventually explaining what the corner was for. You sense by how long he’s set his eyes on it that he most likely wanted to see it. 

“Do you want to have a look?” you ask. 

He answers quickly, “May I?” 

You get out of your seat and walk towards the table. You found the most recent one he’d been using. Luke has had his fair share of drawing books ever since he’s learnt how to work up a crayon. Most of it were indistinguishable scribbles, of course, but you have loved each of it just as much as the others. 

You take it and hand it over to his father on your way back. 

“It doesn’t have much yet ‘cause it’s a new one.” you inform. 

Sidney takes it with both his hands as if to hold something priceless. 

Perhaps, in this case, he was.

You watch him start to go through it; flipping the pages carefully whilst treasuring every picture drawn by his child. 

You see him land on a page with Luke’s drawing of a soccer net on it. “Oh, that was when I was still trying to convince him to play soccer.” 

Sidney titters, “And this is him kicking the soccer ball?” 

You lean towards him, “Yes.”

Sidney traces the lines along the picture Luke’s drawn himself of. He adds one minor detail you might have forgotten he’d see. 

“Wearing skates?” he chuckles.

You let your back fall to the chair before collecting yourself. 

“Yes. I think it was his way of telling me he’s really done with soccer.” you tell him jokingly. 

Sidney is quiet; obvious that there was something else going on in his mind. You sip on your drink, watching him get through all the pages. Finally, he gently closes the book and places it next to his plate. 

“Thank you for letting him play.” he says with gratitude. 

You avoid his gaze, “I did what I thought was best for him” 

“I know,” he answers, treading lightly. 

Thank you for letting me meet my son. Sidney thought. It was what he wanted to say. He just didn’t think he’s done enough to speak of it. Instead, he settles with, “Thank you for letting me teach our son.”

“Well… don’t let me take all the credit.” you say just as you ignore the familiar feeling now resting in your gut. You speak of the truth; acknowledging it for the first time. “He needed you.”

Stunned, and perceivably rendered mute by the gravity of your statement, you take the chance and pull Sidney back. 

“Actually, there’s more of his drawings up in his room. Would you like to see?”

Sidney, who’s dangerously close to tearing up, flutters his eyes and nods. 

“Absolutely.”

𖥸

Sidney could not keep himself together once dinner was over. He still helped on cleaning up even though you insisted on doing the dishes yourself given that he was the one who prepared everything for the night. You’d almost think he’s just doing all of it to get in your good graces. But to tell you honestly, he just couldn’t contain himself. He needed to be busy. 

Having to see his son’s room also meant having the chance to see him through his mother’s eyes. And truth be told, he was looking forward to it despite being scared and horrified. To be able to see his son and the life he’s lived with you would be yet another blow he needs to endure for causing you to do it all alone. 

Luke’s blue night light was the first thing Sidney sees the moment you open the door to his bedroom. His bed was placed by a wall, lined with stuffed animals; some of which Sidney already recognizes. 

Across his bed was a bookcase with three-levels. The first two were decorated with children’s books whilst boxes of toys filled the bottom. To its side rests two bean bags Sidney assumes the two of you use for when you teach Luke how to read or for when he asks you to read him a story. 

He walks towards the bookcase the moment you invite him in. Atop the shelf, he sees a few framed pictures. One that had a picture of you carrying a three-year old Luke and the other that housed his first portrait taken for his first birthday. 

Sidney finds himself reaching for the portrait. He traces his son’s doe eyes with his calloused hand, letting his skin brush over his son’s ever so angelic face. Everything about Luke was perfect. 

You remember that day actually. Luke wasn’t much of a crier but it was evident that he needed more time to warm up in front of the camera. It took a lot of effort for you to finally make him smile; let alone the giggle that you, for who knows how, successfully brought out of him. 

Out of every shot that was taken, the one in Sidney’s hand was the one that stood out. The shot where he wasn’t looking at the lenses but the one where he was looking at you.

A bittersweet smile settles on his lips; one that your eyes didn’t fail to miss. 

You turn your focus onto getting Luke’s artworks. Ignoring the sudden drop you felt in your gut. You turn your back away from Sidney and say, “Let me find some of his old stuff. I know it’s in here somewhere.” 

Sidney doesn’t reply and it takes a while for him to speak again. You see him regain his posture just as he clears his throat. He turns to face you, brown eyes misty with regret. 

You see how tightly he held onto the frame. Even if you deny, something you thought would no longer ache, killed you once again the moment you met his gaze. 

“Do you…” he hesitates, “Do you have more of this?” 

You hold your breath, already knowing what he was asking for. Quietly, you nod as an answer. You turn your back on him once more in search of a book that you know you’ll guard with all your life. 

You’ve always made it a point to hoard as much memory of Luke as you can as he grows. You’ve crafted a photobook filled with photos starting from the day he was born; immortalizing every moment spent with him. 

You take it from the top shelf of Luke’s closet along with a box of random memorabilia you’ve kept of your son through the years. 

“I think you’d appreciate these.” you say as you walk towards Sidney. 

The two of you took comfort on the large race track carpet by the end of your son’s bed. You rest both of your backs against it as Sidney takes the photobook off your hands. 

“I’ve collected all these right after giving birth.” you begin telling him. 

Sidney opens the book whilst the two of you sit together with very little space apart. It’s the first time you’ve ever been this close but neither of you wanted to speak of it. So, for the little time you still have to spare before the night ends, you let yourselves bask in each other’s presence. 

“I wanted to keep something tangible besides the photos on my phone. I didn’t want him to grow up with nothing to look back on, you know? I wanted him to have something he could cherish; something he’d be glad that I did.” 

Sidney faintly nods as an acknowledgement. He turns each page with tender care knowing that the years he chose to give up were now resting in his hands. Not only was he about to be blessed by all the wonderful things that have since surrounded and nurtured his son, Sidney knew he was going to be reminded of the very obvious.

That was not even the worst part. 

And whose choice was that?

You didn’t lie. He saw the pictures from the day you had just given birth. He never knew someone could look sleepless, tired, and happy. Yet there you were, as beautiful as the precious little boy nestled in your arms. 

One of the first few that he’d seen was the one taken days after you and Luke returned to your parent’s home. Your hair was carelessly kept so it wouldn’t get in the way of your face while you breastfeed your newborn. You were basically half-asleep as you sat on your mom’s reading chair feeding Luke. It was the only chair you were comfortable in that it didn’t take long for it to become your nursing chair. 

The subsequent photos told the tale of you and your son’s domestic life. All that rested in Sidney’s hands were raw pictures of the very image he has only imagined for the past four years. 

There you were, a mom– a good one, doing it all alone just like you told him you would. You were right. You never needed him. He was not even half the man you were for fathering his child. It was one thing for Sidney to hope that you could have been wrong. That there’s the slightest chance of you needing his help now. However, as he sat with you in total silence, it’s apparent that his guilt is only growing more; eating him whole. 

“I…” He wanted to apologize. 

And you knew. 

“Don’t.” you say. 

It was not because apologies were not needed anymore. You’re just sure that if Sidney had said it, it wouldn’t be something you’d accept. 

Having him close so as to feel you breathe is already killing you. You have pushed yourself enough. 

Nevertheless, Sidney looks at you intently and whispers, “Thank you.” 

𖥸 

It was well into the night and nothing but Luke’s night light and his videos on your phone kept you and Sidney company. The two of you have been sharing giggles and laughs over the silly child that is your son. 

Sidney clings onto the photobook he has now finished going through as he immerses himself in the videos the two of you have begun to watch. 

You’re scrolling upwards in your “favorites” album when Sidney calls you attention. 

“What’s that video?” he asks, quirking his brows upon a video you had scrolled past. 

You tap onto the said video, showcasing the father and son race in the rink Sidney and Luke had a few weeks back. 

“I can’t believe you caught that on video.” Sidney chuckles shyly, heat rushing to his cheeks. 

“Come on, why wouldn’t I?” you tell him, sounding a lot genuine than you intended.

You find the need to kid, “I’d make more than a dime if I sell a video of the Penguins’ captain wriggling about towards the end of the rink, wouldn’t I?”

Sidney laughs. “Oh, you’d own me when that happens.”

Quietude settles once again, reminding that the fog of your relationship is yet to fully dissipate.

“Hey,” you begin. “You may take this home if you want.” 

For a moment, he was silent. “Are you sure?” 

He holds onto the photobook almost as if he was afraid of you changing your mind. 

“I mean, you’re going to have to return it of course. I just want you to have a few days with it. I know that’s what I’d want if I were in your shoes.” you say honestly. 

Unbeknownst to you, all Sidney wanted to do was engulf you into an embrace for being so kind to him throughout the night. He was so sure that he was still far from deserving your forgiveness but here you were, giving him the very thing he willfully ran away from. 

Sidney was about to say his thanks when he was halted by the ring of his phone. 

You quietly watch as he takes it out of his pocket. 

Shortly after he looks at the caller ID, he looks at you and excuses himself. 

“I just need to take this call. It won’t be long.” he says. 

You need not find the need to answer with words and just spare him a nod of acknowledgement. 

Sidney walks out of Luke’s room as he finally accepts the call from Ron Hextall, the General Manager of the Pittsburgh Penguins.

“Hey, Hexy.” Sidney warmly answers. 

“Hi, kid.” said Ron in a tone that was completely foreign for the captain. 

“What’s up?” he asks, sensing that there was something wrong. “Is this about Geno’s UFA Contract? Isn’t it a bit late to be discussing this?” 

There was a bit of weariness on the other line as Hextall declined the captain’s initial assumption. “I wanted to hear from you first.” 

“Hear what?” Sidney furrows his brows.

“Well, there’s an article of you and a ‘kid’ apparently circling the internet right about now. Is there any chance that this is a joke?” Hextall informs him the second he gets the chance.

Sidney felt his heart drop to his stomach. 

“What article?” 

“I’ve already sent it to you.” 

For a moment, Sidney takes his phone away from his ear and goes straight to his messages; a link to the article waiting for him to see. 

Furiously, he goes over it, seeing all kinds of baseless rumors not just about him but also about Geno and Kris. More importantly, you and Luke. 

Who is Y/N Y/L/N?

“Sidney, what’s going on?” Ron asks, the moment Sidney gets back to him.

“Ron, I’ll explain it first thing in the morning. But now, I need you to put it all down.” He requests.

“It’s blown up pretty much every social, Sid. It’s been up for an hour.” Hextall informs him further.

“Please.” His grip on the phone tightens, desperate. “I’ll tell you everything you need to know.”

𖥸 

You were putting away some of Lucas’ stuff when Sidney opened the door. 

His eyes were evident with panic but you didn’t understand. 

“Hey,” Sidney hears your voice, asking him, “Is everything alright?” 

“I just got off the phone with the team’s GM.” he says, frantic. “I- I didn’t know how– Something happened.”

You step closer, reaching for his arm to console him. In a gentle voice, you ask what was wrong. Sidney couldn’t meet your eyes. 

“Well, what is it?”

“You have to know, I did not mean for it to happe–” he repeated.

You ask again, worried that something bad might have happened. “What is it, Sidney?” 

“There’s been… There’s an article about me… rumored to have a child. He told me there was a video of me and Luke taken earlier at the rink.” he starts to explain despite him not needing to continue. 

An article… Rumored to have a child… 

Sidney need not say no more for the rest of his words that followed were rendered mute by the imminent fear pinned on your little boy.

“What?” a word that came out of you more of a whisper than a question. 

He stares at you, stunned that he couldn’t think fast enough to remedy that came with the danger of such a news.

“I want to see it.” you demand.

Sidney, without much of a choice, hands you his phone with yours close to trembling as you take it.

He starts to explain, “Apparently, a clip was taken. I didn’t know-”

“Does ‘the Kid’ have a kid?” the headline read. 

In the said article, you saw the footage of your son skating along with Alex and Nikita who thankfully had their faces turned against the person who was recording the video. The content of it all was aimed at no one but the man standing before you; frightened and small. 

“What do you mean you didn’t know?” you fail to contain yourself. “You told me we were the only ones in there, Sid!”

“I’m sorry.” Sidney appeals, “I’m doing all that I can to take everything down.”

You move past him and aim for the stairs. Rushing to get away from him. “I can’t believe this.” 

Sidney calls your name as he follows you down the stairs. “Please, hear me out.” 

You look at him, eyes filled with betrayal. 

“How can I possibly hear you out? I asked you one thing, Sidney! One thing!” You push him away as you aim for the kitchen. “All I asked of you is to keep my son safe. But you can’t even do that, can you?”

“I didn’t know there were going to be reporters in the rink. You have to believe me.” Sidney follows your pace, maintaining a safe distance from you.

“I don’t care if you didn’t know! You’re supposed to know!” you argue. “That’s how being a parent is like– something you will never know because you’ve always thought about no one else but yourself!”

Sidney stood across from you, letting the breakfast table get in between. “I’m sorry.” he earnestly tells you.

You ball your hands into fists, glaring at the man. “I can’t believe I trusted you! God! I knew no good is ever gonna come out of being with you, but here I am. Dragging myself back in the hellhole I’ve escaped years ago. And you know what’s worse than that? I brought my innocent child along for the sake of what? Giving you the pleasure of playing make-belief just so you can feel less alone? Less lonely now that everyone’s got a life– a family of their own?”

“That’s not true,” Sidney contends; unable to defend himself, because even he was afraid to know if it was, in deed, the truth. 

“Oh, you don’t get to decide what’s true and what isn’t.” 

He breathes, “I promise you, I have it all under control.”

“Don’t even.” you say pointing at him. “You’re fucking promises are the reason we’re in this mess.” 

“What can I do to make you believe me?” 

This time, you make the mistake of looking at him. Sidney was a literal mess; scared, agitated, in total shock and panic.

“No. I can’t. I can’t do this with you, Sidney.” There came an evident catch in your throat as you said it. You avert his gaze, determined to not let your guard down.

He calls your name, pleading, practically close to groveling. He walks towards you, bearing the words you would have killed to hear from him a very long time ago.

“Please, let me make this right.”

Astounded, you scoff. “It’s always just words to you, isn’t it? It will always be just words.” 

The uninvited sorrow and pain of that night resurfacing. 

“I don’t want you seeing Luke anymore. This is over.”

Panic rises above his throat, “You can’t just take him away from me. He’s my son too!” 

“No. He isn’t.” you firmly state. “You turned down the chance of being his father the moment you walked out on me and you know that.” 

“That’s why I’m here, y/n!” Sidney’s voice breaks, “I want to be a father.” 

“You’re unbelievable.” you speak nothing but vile deep-seated resentment. “How are you this thick skinned, Sidney?”

He tries once more, accepting all the daggers being thrown his way. “I know our relationship is beyond repair, but please don’t put an end to my son and I’s relationship by taking him away from me.”

“I can’t keep repeating myself.” You turn away, “I don’t want you seeing him again.” 

Sidney gently takes your arm, “Y/N, please. I beg you.”

You hold your breath, afraid that one wrong step could derail you. You decide to face him but refuse to look him in the eye. 

“You know, I thought letting you near my son would be the biggest mistake I’d make in my life.” you let out a pitiful laugh, not exactly aimed at Sidney, but more at yourself. You’ve always said you have already moved past this, but what is this exactly? 

“But no, it’s always me knowing better and me choosing to believe in you every time. I’m done, Sidney.” You take your arm away from him. “You can hurt me all you want, but I won’t let you hurt my son.”

“Do you really mean that?” He prays that you don’t.

“Yes.” you unknowingly answer, regretting it the minute you did.

“I think it’d be best for you to leave.” 

Sidney’s shoulders drop. He faintly nods and leaves without a word.

You’ve always thought of you and Sidney as a house made of stone. A home that isn’t easily toppled down by the harsh gush of wind because it always finds its way to meander with it. Sure, your love may not have been the perfect kind everybody dreams of every once in a while, but you were certain that you loved the little cracks and crevices and the fact that it’s a little rough around the edges just enough. 

Although, while those were just some of the things you treasure about what has been, it still stands to this day as yet another cruel reminder of what you and Sidney really were. Yes, you may have held onto each other like stones, you may have loved the faint cracks of your home; but see, you can’t simply polish something that already had cracks from within. Because you know, deep down, cracks left untreated, no matter how strong the stone is, still breaks just as it eventually shatters.

series taglist:

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note: just a friendly reminder that those who opted out on the taglist for the interlude will be left untagged on the next update. as always, let me know what you think about this chapter through rbs, comments, or asks i always appreciate anything ♡

[barzzal]

call me crosby → masterlist

summary: Young, reckless, and rash, an unplanned pregnancy causes a massive rift in your relationship with then, cup-hungry 27 year-old Sidney Crosby. As he gets caught up in his own childish and selfish ways, confused to what was once certain, he lets you struggle alone. His absence reasons a miscarriage scare that leads you to end the relationship. Years after losing you, having to live a life that’s surrounded with the families his friends have built through the years embodies his greatest regret. Now with three cups and tons of awards at his disposal, Sid is given a chance to right his wrongs and win what was once the biggest loss of his life.

pairing: sidney crosby x fem!reader gen. warnings: language and theme, co-parenting, mentions of pregnancy & false miscarriage, sexual/suggestive themes, 18+ genre: hockey rpf, fluff, angst, smut, kid-fic, exes to lovers masterlist: the barn

note: it’s here!! i’ve been working on this halfway thru writing my prev. proj. and i’m so excited i finally get to share it with you. this is partly rewritten and loosely based off a series i didn’t get to finish, entitled “one drunken night”, but since it’s itched my brain so much, i decided to start working on it again and have it rewritten for sidney. i do think his character and overall *vibe* suited the protagonist i had in mind. i want to remind everyone that the warnings will be more elaborate on the coming chapters but for now, here’s the series masterlist! if anyone has questions, i’d be happy to entertain them!

series teasers

teaser #1 › 2015 teaser #2 › 2021 teaser #3 › 2022 teaser #4 › drops before part ten bonus teaser › part five

series chapters* denotes 18+ scenes

part one › 6k part two › 10.8k part three › 7.4k part four › 14.8k part five › 10.8k

interlude* part one › 4k part two › 9.3k

part six › 5.3k part seven › soon! part eight part nine*  part ten

series track

to build a home — the cinematic orchestra till forever falls apart — ashe ft. finneas gone gone gone — honne free love — honne no song without you — honne to let a good thing die — bruno major places we won’t walk — bruno major home — bruno major she chose me — bruno major wonderful tonight — eric clapton as the world caves in — matt maltese cover your tracks — a boy and his kite rosyln — bon iver, st. vincent

series extras

[x] 

*updates on weekends (slow update) add yourself to the taglist!

disclaimer: this is a work of fiction. therefore teasers, interviews, events, and the like that are included in the series are purely made for fictional purposes and do not/should not represent any of the names involved in real life. please proceed with caution.

[barzzal]

call me crosby → part four

summary: Young, reckless, and rash, an unplanned pregnancy causes a massive rift in your relationship with then, cup-hungry 27 year-old Sidney Crosby. As he gets caught up in his own childish and selfish ways, confused to what was once certain, he lets you struggle alone. His absence reasons a miscarriage scare that leads you to end the relationship. Years after losing you, having to live a life that’s surrounded with the families his friends have built through the years embodies his greatest regret. Now with three cups and tons of awards at his disposal, Sid is given a chance to right his wrongs and win what was once the biggest loss of his life.

pairing: sidney crosby x fem!reader gen. warnings: language and theme, co-parenting, mentions of pregnancy & false miscarriage, sexual/suggestive themes, 18+  ch. warnings: angst, language, italicized flashbacks, major revelation, husband and wife level of argument/s (are we even surprised at this point), baby luke bc he’s super adorbs genre: hockey rpf, fluff, angst, smut, kid-fic, exes to lovers length: series; 14.8k masterlist: the barn, series masterlist track: just hit up the track on the series masterlist

note: so sorry for making you guys wait for so long!!! but i’m here, and i hope you’re happy i’m back ;p really missed writing for this little fam :') also, i have a little end note i’d like for you to read so pls pls i ask little more of your time for a short announcement. now all that aside, here’s the update! a long one, i hope that’s alright so tread your way lightly <3 (gif used: mine)

disclaimer: this is a work of fiction. teasers, interviews, events, and the like that are included in the series are purely made for fictional purposes and do not/should not represent any of the names involved in real life. please proceed with caution.

Despite the insane magnitude of pain you presumed would knock you right off at four thirty in the morning of January 6th 2016, it’s safe to say that you still vividly remember whose hands it was that held yours as you birthed your son into the world. 

“You’re gonna be just fine, sweetheart.” your old man says with his brows knitting in the same old way it’s always had each time he looked at his little girl. 

“We’re here, baby. We’re not going anywhere.” your mom added whilst she held your hand as tightly as she could. “We’ll be out here waiting for you.”

“Can’t one of you guys come with me?” you pleaded, choking a whimper. “Mom, please.”

Your mother exchanged looks with one of the attending nurses rushing your bed into the delivery room, asking for an unsaid permission.

Once he nodded, you felt your worries slip away for a second—and you were sure that the excruciating pain tugging at all of your nerves at once had been lifted for a brief moment as you took comfort off of the warmth of your mother’s hand, never letting go of yours. 

“Everything’s gonna be alright,” she assures you, eyes glistening with impending tears. She stops a sob as she put a hand on her mouth.

“I’m right here.”

It was raining the night Luke was born. Something you often remind him of. Your parents stayed through night and day, never leaving you unaccompanied until you and your son finally got discharged from the hospital.

You remember waking up to your old man sitting beside your bed finishing an old book of his. It was quiet. The drizzle of the rain that came and went painted the hospital windows, making you find solace in the mundane. 

You remember your father lighting up as soon as he heard you call his name.

“Dad”, you muttered in a weak voice, your eyes still fighting off the weight of exhaustion. His hand was what embraced yours the moment you met his gaze. 

“I’m proud of you, kid.” was what you remember he said, marveling at the strength and bravery you’ve since exhibited standing on your own feet. 

Everyone who needed to know made sure their presence was known. Family, friends — closest friends.

Claire even chose to spend some of her nights keeping you company through facetime calls coming from Pittsburgh whilst you nestled your newborn in your arms. You remember every hand that held yours through it all. And even if you wanted to let bygones be bygones, deep down you still remember whose hands it was that didn’t. 

For each time your life nearly hung by a thread, they said you were alone. That they felt sorry for having you face it all on your own. Little did they know, however, that that’s where they went wrong. You weren’t alone. You never were. That’s the beautiful reality of it. You had Luke. And since then that’s how it’s always been. That’s how it will always be. 

“You’re basically like a divorced couple.” 

Claire’s teasing, masked with a faint snicker, pulls you from pondering over the not so distant past. She hands you a fresh bucket of butter-flavored popcorn as she shamelessly shakes her head, taking the seat next to you.

You have been attending your son’s hockey class, much to everyone’s surprise, ever since the talk you’ve had with his father. You’re still having a hard time seeing Sidney more often now, all the more so acknowledge him as Lucas’ dad. But, that’s something you’ve got to sweep under the rug especially now that you need - have to give him his right to be as close as he’d want in order for him to forge a bond with his child. 

To say the least, his intentions were pure. That you could tell for each time you subtly observe him communicate with your son. However, none of all that was enough for you to feel completely comfortable and secure to have Lucas with him for too long. 

“Please.” you snub, generously rolling your eyes at Claire over her bold comment. You avoid her gaze and move onto searching for Luke amidst all the other kids skating freely on the ice. 

“You’re right.” she pensively sighs, taking a sip of her drink as she gives you a playful side eye. “I forgot you didn’t have the ticket to hell.” she adds. “Marriage.” 

You shake your head, failing to stop yourself from dwelling on what she said. Although, before you let your mind wander to lengths of something you forbid yourself from thinking of, you beg to differ and instead say, “Marriage is hell.”

You weren’t exactly being bitter by the statement you’d just made. You’ve actually always had this image of yourself wearing a wedding band that fits just perfectly with an even more perfect engagement ring iridescent underneath the high summer sun. You’ve pictured yourself building a perfect little family with the perfect man, living in a perfect house just enough to suffice the perfect life. But see, life obviously had other plans. So even if you were indeed being bitter, you know ‘practical’ is a much better way to put it even if it goes against what you actually believe in. 

“Seriously though,” Claire gets your attention away from the rink and asks. “How are things between you and Sid?” 

Officially, Sidney’s been back in your life as your son’s father for about three weeks now. He made sure that it’s in your knowledge that he’s made a few personal arrangements in order to cater to his son’s needs exclusively without endangering your privacy. He’s been very accommodating and frankly, quite generous to your requests — requests that are of course all for Lucas’ benefit.

“We’re… civil. At least I think we are.” you answer with candor, ignoring the fact that the air between you and your ex is still thick with deep seethed anger buried and left untreated for years.

“I’m trying my best not to hate him,” you tell her frankly. “But I just– it’s still hard to be around him.” 

“When we talked I made it very clear that we didn’t need him. I brought up Luke all on my own — my own sweat and blood.” you declare. “I made sure that he knows I’m doing him a favor by meeting Luke. And that I could take him away from him; strip him off of the rights he thinks he has over my kid.”

“It’s true. You did do all that on your own.” she nods in agreement. “But don’t you think it’s a little harsh?”

“A little?” you mock. “I guess I’m being way too nice then.” 

She rolls her eyes and sighs.

“That’s not what I meant.” 

You were aware that you weren’t even close to being nice. Why should you be? Sidney gave you enough reason to hate him and that is what he’s going to get for as long as he’d keep pushing himself to be a part of the life he’s already bailed on right from the beginning. He doesn’t deserve nice. He will never deserve nice.

“Look, I don’t want the poor kid to get too attached in case he ends up leaving us again.” you bluntly say, eyes far off the distance, pinned on your son skating on the ice.

Claire looks at you funny and you instantly regret it when you meet her gaze. 

“Us?”

“Oh, come on.” you  threw your back on your seat exasperatedly. “That’s what you got from everything I just said?” 

Your best friend shrugs and acts with her awful take mimicking a pure child-like oblivion; thus far, pressing further on words that need not be uttered. “Why? Wasn’t it all that I needed to hear?”

Finally, you give up, not wanting to discuss any more of what could possibly open up a whole ‘nother box of mess. 

“You’re such a pill.”

𖥸 

It had been a while since Sidney felt so unsure of himself. Maybe it’s because he hasn’t felt his hands that clammy in ages or because he’s never felt like sweating his ass in a while, not even when he got drafted. Nevertheless, the word ‘Nervous’ itself would still be an understatement considering how you basically ate him up for the entirety of that meeting. He was ashamed. He felt small. And he indeed felt like shitting his pants as much as you were.

Of course, Sidney had his reservations. Ones that involve you limiting the knowledge of his son’s existence strictly to those close to him by heart. The deal was clear. Sidney will just be a father to his son for as long as you’d find him worthy of it. 

Even if all the odds are in your favor, and that he’s the one who’s likely to lose everything at stake, he’s still glad that you’ve given him the chance to finally make the risks he was too much of a coward to take.

This year’s season for the Pittsburgh Penguins officially ended the day before yesterday on Long Island. It was indeed a painful loss for the whole team. It stung bad considering how they’ve battled hard amidst all adversities and unsought injuries of key players in particular. But regardless of how bad Sidney already felt for not being able to produce as much as the team needed him to during the series, the fact that he was actually looking forward to its end made the guilt resting in his guts boil even more than it already had. 

Said guilt, however, dissipated by the time he set foot back in the Steel City. The Spring season for the Little Penguins has officially been concluded during his remaining days on the road. He may have missed Luke’s graduation but he appreciated how you’ve made an effort of sending him a few photos of Luke during the end of the session as he wore his SCLP honorary medal and certificate for accomplishing the hockey program. 

He left Long Island with a smile on his face, thinking about nothing else but his family waiting for him his entire way back. Waiting is, for sure, an overstatement, but that’s something he’s going to willfully ignore. 

He’d been spending a great amount of time making the most of every date he could get you to agree in terms of him meeting his son. Since then, Sidney’s devoted himself to getting to know Lucas and all the wonderful ways you’ve done raising his child all on your own. 

“Hey, Sid. Look at my one-two’s!” Lucas rejoices as he shows off his better-improved skating skills over the days he hasn’t seen Sidney. He watches him glide on the surface a lot more balanced than previously. 

“You’re gonna out-skate me now, aren’t you?” he says, heart swelling just by the mere presence of his kid. 

Frankly, he still couldn’t grasp what reality’s like for him now. That what he has with you and your son right now would be the closest thing he’d be getting to a sound image of what it’s like to finally have a home,— to know what it’s like to really belong. 

For the longest time, Sidney successfully soared to the highest heights he could ever dream of, but now, it seemed as though he was finally being pulled back by a greater force even bigger than his being. A force that pushes him to want to be better as much as it pulls him back to the ground in order to make him see things in a different light so profound and entirely anew.

Scary, it may be, perhaps a little overwhelming even, but Sidney, after the tedious years he’d spent searching, has finally found his gravity.

A few months ago, he wouldn’t even think of getting where he is now. A lot has changed over such a short amount of time. And he only wishes that you eventually find it in yourself to let him, for he’d like to keep this reality of his, the one that’s stuck.

“Wanna race?” Luke muse, looking straight up at his father, amused but isn’t caught off guard by the sudden request. 

“First to the blue line wins, how ‘bout that?” he smirks, leaning  some of his weight on his stick. 

Luke eagerly nods and meets him with the same grin, “Okay!” 

The two of them gather themselves whilst Sidney takes his time guiding Luke on their way back to the end of the rink. By the looks of it, Sidney could tell that Luke’s been improving. Not just on his skating skills but more importantly his focus on the ice. He keeps himself at an appropriate distance, not wanting to crowd him too much.

Sidney simply listens to the child’s murmurings. Some of it he’s already heard of and some about the most random things a five-year-old kid could wrap his head around.

“‘Kay, you ready?” he asks right after he makes a full spin on his skates before stopping on his heels.

Luke nods, trying a bit harder to mirror exactly how his coach did it. “Yep!”

“On the count of three, yeah?” he tells him. Luke mindfully nods, putting all his weight on both of his knees as he readied himself. Sidney watches his little boy bend his knees just like what he’d been instructed to previously at the hockey program. 

“One, two,” Sidney begins. “three,— go!”

Luke squeals, taking on his one-two’s perhaps a little too seriously. Sidney, the man known for his competitiveness, stays still and gives his little boy the most generous head start the Penguins captain could ever be expected to give. 

He smiles to himself as he feels this incredible yet unexplainable warmth he’s never felt with anyone.

Not even with you. 

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Shortly after he’s moved, the Captain halts for a moment when he notices the kid drop himself carelessly onto the ice.

He skates his way a few steps back carefully, a little bit concerned. “You good there, bud?”

With a muffled voice, Luke whines. 

“I’m tired.” he says, head buried in between his fragile arms. 

Sidney breathes as Luke’s response lifts the worries off of his shoulders.

“We should just crawl.” he coos with a small voice still crisp and clear in his father’s ears. He forms his lips into a pout and continues. “My legs aren’t working.”

Astonished, Sidney chuckles.

“You want to crawl?” 

Luke perks his head up and looks at Sidney through his caged helmet. 

With a shrug, he simply suggests, “Or we could swim.” 

“How are we gonna do that?” Sidney asks with his brows furrowed.

The little boy absently shrugs just before he demonstrates how ‘swimming’ on the ice works. He stayed flat on the ice and began making butterfly-like strokes. “Like this?”

With a rather foolish grin, Sidney gets on his knees and drops next to his son.

“All right then,” he tells him. “Let’s do it.”

“On three eh?” he exhales, both of their faces nearly planted on the cold surface.

“One two—”

Sidney starts to count yet again. 

However this time, positioned flat on his belly pretty much like his father, Luke cuts Sidney off and begins racing towards the blue line. 

“Go!”

𖥸 

It’s safe to say that you’ve begun your descent into self loathing. 

You heard from Kris that Sidney was supposed to be making an appearance for the team’s clean up day pressers. Although, it seemed to him that the captain had finally got something bigger than hockey to fill up his entire day. For lack of a better term, Kris was rather thrilled to be seeing the kid as a family man pretty much like every guy on the team. 

Even though he had been the only one Sidney could tell stories to, and show pictures of Luke considering the deal he’d also witnessed, Kris could tell that Sidney’s far too equipped for fatherhood in contrast to how low he actually thinks of himself when it comes to it. 

Kris has always been in awe of the man that he’s become throughout the years he’s known him on and off the ice. He’s always seen Sid as a humble man— a stand up guy. And while he may have made life-altering mistakes in the past, seeing how much more of a man he is now now that you’re back in his life made Kris realize the heights Sidney’s going to be willing to go through just to ensure that you’d never walk out on him the second time. That said, Sidney’s been able to be a father for almost a month now and he’s only got one person to thank. You. 

You have been standing by the bench for who knows how long adoring the sight before you. You’ve been gone for a few minutes to refill Luke’s water bottle and lo and behold, the next thing you see as soon as you’re back is the famed Pittsburgh Penguins captain laying on the ice, flat on his stomach, racing your five-year-old son. 

The private rink per se isn’t as big as the arenas you’ve been to in the past. Sidney mentioned that he and the guys have used it for quite some time now following the year Flower left the city for Vegas. Although it wouldn’t be much of a surprise if some of the team’s avid fans knew about it considering the times Anna, Geno’s wife, has shared a few stories of her boys doing their own father and son practices on Instagram. 

So, why the self loathing, you ask?

For the entire time you stood still unnoticed, along with the weeks you’ve spent time with him, Sidney showed you how capable he is of the very thing he deprived you of six years ago. Being a father. And even if that was the case, it wasn’t exactly the reason behind yet another weight weighing on your all too heavy heart. 

Regardless of the years you’ve spent away from him, it is undeniably painful that Sidney still happened to have that pull on you. Not to mention how it is worsened by how he lights up each time he sees your son and how Luke instantly reacts just the same as if that’s how things have been for him naturally. 

The days that came and went were good. Alarmingly good. Luke accepted him as if he was someone he’s already known all his life. For such a short amount of time, you were beginning to get to know who he is now ever since you left. He’d been nothing but amazing with Luke and it would be certainly unfair for you to deny that seeing him with your son felt normal — like it was exactly how it’s supposed to be. 

It was as though you were going against everything you’ve gone through for the last six years. You’ve sworn that you felt nothing but hatred for Sidney Crosby. That you’d do everything in your might to make him pay for all the pain you had to put up with. That he’s going to have to go through holes of thousands of needles just to make you consider forgiving him.

All those things, yet here you were, adoring the sight before you as if you were a part of this perfect little family anyone could ever hope for. 

That. That is the reason.

“What are you boys doing?” you finally voice out, not wanting to let yourself drown in too much ponderment. 

You see them turn their head towards your direction. Luke’s small frame, now a lot more pronounced next to the huge build of a man, that is, his father. 

“Mommy!” your son almost screams once he sees you standing by the bench. He eagerly gets on his feet just before exerting his best effort to help Sidney afterwards. 

“Look, Sid! It’s Mommy!” he cheers, looking up at his old man without letting go of his hand. 

“Yeah.” Sidney meets your eyes and smiles. 

“It is Mommy.” 

Feeling his heavy gaze like a known unknown for the obvious years still parting the two of you, you avert the same irises you happen to love most about your son before you completely lose yourself to the familiar and intoxicating effect of Sidney Crosby. 

You clear your throat once they’ve finally approached the gates. 

“Have you gotten any shots?” you ask, instantly taking your son’s free hand as soon as he gets off the ice.

With pursed lips, Luke takes a second to remove his gloves so he could show you the exact times he scored for the day. He hums, flashing his gleeful eyes as he proudly puts up three fingers. “I got four!”

You share a quiet chuckle with his father just as you absently shake your head. 

“Honey, that’s three.” you crouch to meet his eyes. 

“Oops! I meant,” Luke giggles, putting up four fingers to clarify. “this many.”

“Okay. Are you thirsty?” you ask him.

“Do you want a drink?”

“Yes, please.” he answers and you give him an assuring nod.

You were about to get on your feet when your son called you, faintly tugging on your sleeve.

“Mom, could you help me?” he asks, taking his hands onto the lock of his helmet. 

“C’mere, my love.” Luke steps a foot closer, instantly wearing the same beaming smile that’s always reached his eyes everytime he looks at you. 

“You’re really pretty, Momma.” he muse.

“Why thank you.” you return the same smile just as you lift off the caged helmet off his head.

You pinch his nose lightly just before you gather yourself on your feet. “Ready to change and go home?” 

Luke obediently nods but takes a second to look back at Sidney, who was at the time, beginning to be barred out by the clear wall that still separates him from completely being a part of what you have with his son. 

“Can I go with Sid?” he tells you. 

Astounded by the said request, you ran your hand over his hair and genuinely asked, “Are you gonna be okay by yourself? You might need some help changing.”

“Sid can help me.” he confidently answers. 

“You haven’t asked him, hun.” you say. 

Luke turns towards his father’s direction. “Will you help me go change, please?”

“‘Course, bud.” he smiles down on the kid just as he ruffles his hair. 

“See!” Luke beams. “I told you.”

You spare his father a quick glance and you’re almost sure it felt like Sidney was actually asking the same request silently. You softly sigh, traveling your hands to caress your son’s cheek. 

“Mkay. If you say so.” you let him, stirring his body towards Sidney’s direction. 

“I’ll meet you boys out front.” you say, mostly directed to Sidney than your son. 

You see him give you a nod in agreement just as he says, “We won’t take long.”

𖥸 

“I’m finished.” Luke says as he holds his water bottle up and high for Sidney to take. He can’t deny that his son’s small figure and the way he held the bottle with both of his hands made him feel things he assumes that only a real father would feel. 

Then again the length he had spent together with his child couldn’t really attest to such a strong narrative.

To Sidney’s surprise, Luke did most of the changing himself. The only time his son needed help was when he had struggled getting out of his gear and taking his laces untied. Lucas’ feet could barely touch the ground as he sat in the locker room. Something his father found utterly admirable. 

Sidney finishes off as he finally zips up his son’s equipment bag. He slings it over his shoulder along with his own without much of a sweat and looks down at the kid.

“All set?” he asks.

Sid waits for him as he takes his time. 

Instead of getting a response, however, Luke hops on his feet and makes his way towards the neat display of hockey sticks exclusively displayed for the usage of those that come by the barn. The child was quiet for a little while as if he was studying the sticks from head to toe. Sidney quietly stands behind him, staring at it all. 

It probably has been a minute or so when the little boy subtly bites his lower lip, deep in contemplation. As a child, it was something he did not quite understand. He knew he wanted to learn, that he wanted to be on the ice, but no matter how Luke tried, the stick he’s got felt odd in his hand somehow. It was just rather puzzling that it wasn’t entirely what he expected. But then again, how much would a child expect more to a thing that he’s clearly already passionate about?

Finally, as Sidney thread his way lightly onto this new side of him he was about to witness first hand, he crouches to meet Luke’s eyes.

“Found anything good?” he inquired with a soft tone laced in his approach.

The kid tries to reach for one and it was a chance Sidney immediately saw to further help him. 

“I’m…,” The boy struggles to find his words. Luke looks down onto his first stick Sidney was already holding whilst he held the other wood on his own.

“Not sure,” he continued.

“That’s alright.” Sidney gives him a reassuring smile. “We can always fix this up for you.” 

He takes the stick from him in order to take a good look, measuring if it was even the right height for him. 

Luke, as a fairly curious child, often wants to discover things on a different path. Some of them came as a surprise for you as a parent, but some came naturally because you know he was half of someone else. 

Curiously, Luke looks over Sidney’s shoulder as an old lone black and gold stick catches his attention. He doesn’t spare a second and immediately points towards where it was hidden and tucked away from everyone else to see. 

“How about that one?” he asks, his head tilted to the side before his eyes briefly ask Sid for his permission. 

Sid turns, following his son’s small and fragile finger as it finally lands onto the familiar wood everyone in the team must’ve already forgotten from years ago. It must’ve been one of the boys. Tristan’s, perhaps from a time already lost in the past years, but he wasn’t quite sure.

Confused, and frankly, a bit amused, Sid takes his gaze back on the child. 

“A goalie stick?” he mused.

Luke nods, but is fast enough to question, “Is that what it’s called?” 

It was hard to pretend that Sidney did not feel the sudden surge of validation coming off of such an abrupt and clearly, innate curiosity of an innocent little boy. But he’d only be lying to himself if he wouldn’t admit the rush he just felt the moment his son’ pointing finger landed on the black and gold piece of wood. 

“Yes,” he confirms. 

There was a sheer silence, for a moment, perhaps a definitive discernment between a father and his son. 

“Tell you what,” Sidney begins. “How about we get in the net for our next class?”

With a smirk pretty much like his, Luke happily agrees. “Okay.”

“Great.” Sidney chuckles softly. “Sounds like a plan.” 

You know what you said when you said it. You were going to wait, and you did. But you weren’t planning on closing the waiting game for a solid half hour. You know your son does not take that long to change into his former clothes. And sure, while just thinking about it already makes you want to roll your eyes out, you know Sidney doesn’t either. 

You hear a series of distant giggles as you neared the dressing room. There were a few made-up grunts here and there but all that embraced the entire hallway was Luke’s seemingly tireless cheering. 

“Again! Again!” 

You faintly shake your head. There you were, out by the doors for thirty minutes, only to return and find two silly boys, play more hockey. 

You see Sidney’s broad and insanely pronounced back as soon as you have a peek through the door. It may have not barred your line of sight from seeing your son but it sure as hell made you stare for a sinful minute.

Appalled and ashamed of yourself, you shake off the familiar warmth that was threatening to slowly creep up your pants before you completely lose your right mind. 

You clear your throat and remain solely focused on the little boy standing before what seemed like a make-shift net out of a cooler box. Forgetting isn’t really a probable thing at the moment so you allow yourself to miss one of the many quirks of the man that’s clearly behind it.

You break playtime and call onto Luke. 

“Baby, ready to go?”

Absent-mindedly, Sidney replies like it was just a simple reflex, a muscle memory he didn’t realize he still had in his system.

“In a minute— oh, you meant,” he averts your gaze, shying away. 

You find yourself fighting off a smile as you look at him flustered like a teenage boy. Sidney makes an effort to look at you whilst he sheepishly massages his nape. 

Old habits die hard apparently. 

“Sorry,” he apologizes. “Old habits.”

Before the awkwardness in the air swallows you whole, you choose to ignore what he just said and acted as if you didn’t hear.

Thankfully, your boy decides to break it for you as he proudly states, “I’m playing goalie, mom!” 

You turn your attention onto your son and extend your hand for him to take. 

“Really? That’s great, bubs.” you tell him just as soon as you break your gaze off Sidney. He does just the same, putting his attention by gathering his and Luke’s bags for the final time.

With his back turned away from the two of you, he quietly listens. 

“Can’t wait to see you in the net, baby.” you tell him. 

“Really?” Luke replies. 

“Of course!” he hears the child giggle, assuming that you were playfully tickling his sides. “I’m excited.” 

Sidney couldn’t help but smile to himself. 

It wasn’t really a sudden burst of epiphany, but during the time he’d spent getting to know his son, Sidney happened to have realized that he was also getting to know his mother. The same and yet changed woman he’s loved for so long. 

“Did you pack your things by yourself?” he hears you ask the boy. 

“Yes,” Luke marvels. “I folded them!”

With a giant smile you fix up his hair just as always.

“Good boy.” you say.

“I think we gotta go home now, Lukey.” he hears you inform his son.

Luke gives you a satisfied grin, not really bothered that his day of playing hockey is about to end.

“It’s okay.” he gladly states. “I can play next time.”

“Okay then.” you flash a gentle smile. “You ready?”

Luke willfully nods and answers, “Yup!” 

𖥸 

All that Sidney did was adore you from afar. 

As the three of you exited the private rink, all Sidney wanted to do was to watch you and Luke walk hand in hand whilst you made your way towards the parking lot. 

He walks just behind you and Luke, finding it irresistible to listen to whatever it was that you were discussing. 

“Hold on, did they send the baby penguins back home?” you curiously ask which made Sidney even more interested in finding out what it was all about. 

“Uh-huh” Luke confirms. “Chase founded an iceberg. Then, Zuma used stinky squids to make them want to go home.” 

Sidney can’t help but break a foolish smile.

Founded. Stinky Squids.

“I’m confused.” you pretend. “Why would Zuma use the squids?”

Luke, as dramatic as his mom - apparently, shakes his head at you for not getting what exactly happened on his favorite TV show. 

“Because penguins like to eat squid, momma.”

“Really?” amused, you inquire. “What else do they like to eat?”

Luke hums, “Fish, and krills, and squids, and… fish again.” 

“That’s really interesting, buddy.” 

Once you were in front of your car, you successfully fish your keys from your purse without letting go of Lucas’ hand. However, you were stopped from opening the passenger’s door when your son gasped and put a hand on his mouth. He then erupts in giggles once the thought finally settles down with him. 

“What is it?” you ask. Seeing him behave like this isn’t really a surprise for you for he’s always been such a jolly and goofy child, but it certainly is for the man standing behind you. 

His brows were quirked, obviously out of place, but it was something Sidney didn’t mind. 

“Squid…” Luke’s muffled giggle fills his father’s ears. 

He looks at Sid rather funny just as he finally says, “Squidney Crosby.”

Chortling, you absently look back at him, devoid of how you’re about to witness the light in his eyes as he looks at your son. 

“Lucas,” you call, trying to take his attention away from poking fun at his poor father. 

“Are you gonna call me that now?” Sidney asks, breaking a chuckle.

“Maybe.” Luke gives him a thumbs up and willfully declares, “But I’m the only one allowed!”

“You don’t have to tell me twice.” Sidney proudly states, bobbing his brows with a grin. 

You watch your boys do a fist bump — one that they shared for the first time. You couldn’t help but find joy in such a mundane exchange so instead of letting Sid know that it made you feel somehow, you distract yourself by softly pinching your son’s cheek. 

“What about mom?” you froze by what you just heard. 

Thankfully, Sid was far too occupied charming your son to even notice how frozen you were as you stood between the two of them. 

“Is she allowed to call me Squidney?” he further asks.

“No,” Luke informs his father with a pout. “She doesn’t get PAW Patrol. She’s always asking me  questions.” 

“Excuse me, young man. I absolutely do.” You were still finding it hard to recover but nonetheless you decided to chime in. “You know that Skye’s my favorite.”

Your son counters, “That’s ‘cause she’s a girl. Like you.” 

“Hey, girls can and should like girls,” you simply tell him. “Besides, your friend here doesn’t even watch your show.”

Instantly, Luke puts his gaze onto his father who was now dreading having to be put on the spotlight. It’s his fault, anyway. He should’ve asked you more about this stuff.

Before the captain could even bounce back and redeem himself in front of his child, Luke gives him a gentle smile.

“It’s fine.” he states. “We could watch it together at our house.” 

Your son looks up at you with hopeful eyes.

“Right mom?”

“I’m sure we can some other time, bud.” Sidney slides to save you from spiraling on making up an excuse believable enough to a child just to conceal the fact that inviting him to your home would be the last thing you’d ask from him. Well, that and everything else. 

You watch him ruffle your son’s curls and you just couldn’t help how much Luke enjoys being around him. Deep down you know you shouldn’t feel joy at the sight, but maybe after all you’ve been through, you deserve to feel happy for finally seeing your son with a father. 

By the time Sidney’s placed Luke’s equipment bag at the back of your car, you’ve managed to put your son secured in his booster seat, humming no other than the PAW Patrol theme song to himself. 

“Tight? No?” you double check, making sure that your son is well adjusted in his seat. 

Luke shakes his head and says, “Thank you, Momma.”

You give him a warm smile before you finally push the car door to a close.

You meet Sidney’s eyes the moment you shut the door. “Hey.” 

“Hey.” you give him a tight-lipped smile, opening the front door of your car. 

“I just want to thank you for letting me see him today.” he sincerely says, holding onto his own equipment bag. 

“It’s no big deal. It looks like he’s really having fun with you.” you tell him. “Thank you.”

For the past weeks of settling in this new set up of yours, you and Sidney certainly dreaded the same thing. Going home. While Sidney hated having to watch you go — to let you off each time, you certainly hated having to formally end the day you just had with him with a small talk. 

A small talk that is pretty much like this one. 

“Well,” you click your tongue.

It’s clear that you’re not a fan of sharing the still evident awkwardness between you and your ex but you’re already in this situation, and as much as you’d like to just leave him and bail, you were still a decent human being. All you have to do is give him the bare minimum, and perhaps wish that he wouldn’t ask you any more than that. 

Sidney knows what that ‘well’ meant. 

Sure, he may have just dealt with it on an ordinary day but it wasn’t exactly just an ordinary day. For days he’d been building enough strength and courage to ask you of this one thing that both Kris and Geno are asking of him.

It’ll be Nikita’s fifth birthday on the 31st and while Sidney made it a point to make Geno understand of the current situation, he happened to have failed persuading him into letting you and Luke miss his godson’s birthday. 

And so, for a good minute, just like how it’s been for him ever since you both started seeing each other again, Sidney was nervous to ask. The chances of you declining is not exactly improbable as opposed to how positive Geno was when he was handing him the invite. Sidney isn’t exactly the same man so sure and confident of himself when it comes to you. He knows that deep down, you still hated his guts and him asking you to come and meet his friends would certainly be a lot. 

Nevertheless, for argument’s sake he didn’t want to engage with Geno, he drives just enough strength to ask. 

“Uh, I’ve been meaning to tell you something.” 

Confused about where the conversation was leading, you modestly let him continue. “What is it?”

“Geno already knows about Luke.” he gently breaks it to you, threading his way lightly as if to test the waters.

“Oh.” 

Truthfully, Sidney was expecting you to be upset. Perhaps, a little bit of yourself wanted the same thing too but you just weren’t. Geno has been a part of your life just as much as Kris was and you’d be lying to yourself if you’d deny how much you missed that guy too. 

You clear your throat and ask, “What did he say?” 

“You know what he’s like. He’s excited to see you.” Sidney lets out a sigh. He briefly takes a glance at his son through the car window. “And you know, meet this guy.”

You shrug, “I suppose we could arrange something that isn’t gonna be too overwhelming for Luke.”

“Actually, that’s what I was hoping to talk to you about.” he breathes. “I was wondering if it’d be okay for you and Luke to meet the guys on Nikita’s birthday.” 

“Oh. Uh— who are these guys exactly?” 

“Just the old gang getting together with the kids. You, me, Geno, Anna, Kris, and Cath.” he simply states. “I mean, we could just make an appearance before everyone else that’s invited arrives.”

“No, no. I don’t want to be rude.” you shake your head as you absently tell him. A simple statement that admittedly, Sidney appreciated.

He informs you that it isn’t really a big grand celebration rather just a simple gathering of those that are very close to the Malkins. After all, they’d be spending most of the off-season in Russia. You’ve got to admit that seeing some old friends would be nice. But just the mere thought of it, already scares you even if you still haven’t really given Sidney a definitive answer.

“I hope you remember what we’ve talked about.” you breathe out. 

“I do. I really do.” he willfully tells you. “And by all means, you don’t have to say yes. It’s just that, I needed to ask you because I sort of promised Geno that I will.”

Your keys dangle on your fingers as you scratch your brow, “Can I at least think about it?”

You see Sidney’s face light up for a moment, before he gathers himself so he could answer you calmly.

He nearly stammers as he says, “For sure. You can just give me a call whenever.” 

“Okay.” you smile. 

Sidney does just the same. “Thank you for today.” 

He watches your smile fade, one that is evidently for formality’s sake, just as soon as you get in the driver’s seat. 

You look back at him one last time and meet his eyes. 

“I’ll see you later, Sidney.”

𖥸 

You’ve received a text from Sidney an hour ago saying that he’s on his way to pick you and Lucas up so you could all go to Geno’s together. 

It was a solid forty minute car ride from Sidney’s place to yours. By the looks of it, it would most likely take a bit more on the way to Geno’s home.

Clearly, you’ve thought hard about keeping your son as far as you could from his father including everyone that is connected to him all these years. However, it wasn’t the car ride that Sidney was most anxious about, rather it was the fact that he was finally coming over to your house for the very first time. 

You were in the middle of finishing up curling your lashes when a knock on the bathroom door momentarily stops you. Said knock was then quickly followed by the small muffled voice of your son. 

“Mom?” he calls. “Are you finished?”

“Not quite, honey.” you tell him with a sweet voice. “Do you need help with anything?”

“Erm, a little.” you hear him murmur, his voice breaking into a grunt by the time he speaks again. A faint smile creeps on your face as you listen. “I think the zipper’s stuck!” 

“Alright, I’ll be out in just a second, sweetheart.” you raise your voice in an effort to make sure your son hears you just fine. You quickly finish the final touches on your makeup and put all your things aside before finally getting to the door. 

The moment you swing the door open, you see Luke leaning on the foot of your bed, evidently fixated on figuring out why the zipper of his jacket won’t come up at all.

“Oh,” you muse. “That’s a pretty cool jacket you got there, honey.”

Luke’s pursed lips melt into a smile the moment he hears your voice. You try to stifle a laugh when you catch him staring at you as you stand before him in an old yellow wrap up summer dress that ends just a few inches above your knees. The one that you’ve already forgotten you even had tucked away in your closet. 

“Wow! So pretty!” he cheers just as you crouch before him. 

You genuinely thank him, finding utter and complete joy in the validation given to you by your child. 

“You’re not so bad yourself, young man.” you tell him, helping the stuck zipper latch onto the other end of the clothing. With a scrunched nose, and glossy lips spreading to mirror his grin, you exclaim, “You look dapper!”

“But aren’t you gonna be hot?” you ask, beginning to dress his hair. Regardless, he was still fairly clothed underneath, wearing a white shirt with red stripes, paired with cute grey sweat shorts and his white baby sneakers.

“It’s okay.” Luke answers you with a shrug and his ever so innocent five-year-old voice. “I get chilly sometimes.” 

“Okay then,” you say. “Ready to go down?”

Needless to say, you weren’t really surprised that all your son could talk about the entire time going down the stairs was his father. 

“Is Sid coming with us?” 

“Yes, honey.” you answer. “He’s going to pick us up.”

“Why? Does he have a car?” 

“Yes, he does, honey.” you say, holding his hand as you thread your way further. “Careful. Watch your step.”

Luke does exactly what he’s told, however evidently not planning on stopping from indulging you with his interesting questions. 

“But what about my car seat? Sidney doesn’t have a car seat,” he asks once more by the time you get on the ground floor.

Luke continues with a full sentence that’s just enough to tug at your chest. “He doesn’t have a baby.”

Nonetheless, you choose to avoid the latter and answer his query instead. You press your lips together, “We’re going to take yours, babe.” 

Luke lets go of your hand. “Okay!”

You watch him run towards the living room, immediately taking a hold of a few toys he still had lying around the carpet from when you were trying to entertain him in the morning. 

It honestly didn’t take much for Sidney to get you to finally agree to Geno’s invitation. You know that you’re going to have to face them eventually, and while that may still be kind of nerve racking, there really is no use of refusing because as far as you know, you have spent the last month or so diving head first to a lot of unknowns. Nevertheless, you were still undeniably nervous.

You were in the kitchen gathering Luke’s things into his bag when you decided to finally answer Sidney’s text. It only seemed proper for you to do such, given the amount of messages you’ve ignored from him over the first few days of him seeing your son. 

The sound of the keys on your phone clacks as you type in the words ‘Ready whenever you are.’

You effortlessly hit send and put your phone front-facing down on the cold counter. You return to fixing up Luke’s bag, ensuring that you have everything he would need for the long day ahead.

The piercing sound of the doorbell fills almost every corner of your home. Your son, who was rather occupied with his stuffed animals at the time, bolts straight out the living room and immediately gets the door. 

Frantic and alarmed by the thought of your five-year-old child opening up your home to a total stranger, you ran towards the door, letting go of the stuff that kept your hands full. 

“Lucas Patrick Y/L/N!” you call. “What did I tell you about the door?”

Lucas Patrick Crosby. That’s one thing he can only wish to hear.

“It’s Sidney!” he beams by the time you get to the foyer. 

Your heart drops at the sight you just walked into. You see your son in the arms of his father, wearing a giant smile you’ve only been seeing from him each time he is with Sidney. And there he was, looking like an exact carbon copy of the only man you’ve ever truly and deeply loved all your life. 

And as scary and uncertain everything has been for you lately, at that moment, you can only think of one thing. 

Lucas won’t be able to handle losing Sidney.

“Hi.” you spare a tight-lipped smile in spite of your already racing heart. 

You couldn’t tell but Sidney feels just the same. 

There you were, standing before him in the same old yellow dress he will never forget. 

𖥸

“Oh gosh, that was so bad. This is bad.” you held your palm on your forehead as you marched back into Sidney’s old room. 

It’s quite funny how your body chose to ruin the one day you needed yourself at your best. 

Your boyfriend has finally invited you to his hometown. You know, to come and meet his family for the very first time. It was his parents’ anniversary and Sidney had spent days and probably the entire plane ride to Nova Scotia, assuring you that it wasn’t that big of a deal.

But what did he know? It’s not like he was chill when he first met your father. He may have held his ground but it was the only time you’ve actually seen him sweat his beautiful ass. 

You know that what he’s doing was just his awful and taunting way of trying to calm you down so you’d never think too much of it. But even if you appreciated it, it’s just not working. Nonetheless, you were glad that in spite of him goofing around, you still had him by your side.

“Baby,” Sidney closes the bedroom door, obviously trying to contain his amusement of seeing you care so much about what his family thinks of you.

“It’s not that bad, I swear—”

“Don’t even!” you freak. “It’s bad enough that I already bled through my only clothes in front of your family, and now I got your mom and sister running around the house finding something I could wear!” 

Sidney lets out a soft sigh and you see him flash a crooked smile. 

“Stop it.” you warned.

“Babe, come on.” He carefully reaches for your waist to turn you on your back. You feel his strong and frankly, huge hands take rest on your curves, making you feel this unexplainable warmth spread all over your body.

“See?” you pout, pertaining on your blood stained pants as you inevitably lean in on his touch. “I told you it’s bad.”

It was as though nothing else was as important as the girl bleeding in front of him for Sidney didn’t care much of the stain showing on your bottoms. 

“Are you in pain?” he quietly asks, his deep voice just enough to send shivers down your spine. 

You scoff, “If pain is becoming a huge embarrassment, then yes. I am.” 

Sidney calls your name in a serious tone. 

“No.” You roll your eyes and decide to answer truthfully. “Just a little uncomfortable.”

“Okay. We’ll get you into some fresh clothes in a minute.” he says, wrapping his arms around your waist.

“You’ve been nothing but great, believe me, and the party hasn’t even started yet.” he assures you.

“We’re going to be just fine,” he adds. Your hand travels onto his cheek whilst Sidney rests his chin on the crook of your neck, peppering your skin with small kisses every once in a while. “Besides, I think my mom already likes you.”

You smile to yourself, leaning most of your weight on Sidney’s rock hard chest. “You really think so?”

“How much of my mom’s lobster poutine have you eaten at lunch?” he asks. 

“A lot.” you instantly laugh. “She told me I ate like a bird. I didn’t know I could eat that much.”

Sidney chuckles just as he coos. “So, don’t think of leaving me just yet or else you’re gonna break her heart.”

You turn to face him, your body moving swiftly without even having Sidney move his arms off of you. You put your arms on his shoulders and place a small kiss on the tip of his nose. 

“I won’t break her heart.” you promise.

Sidney smiles and reaches in to kiss you on the lips. “Good.”

“Kids, can I come in?” 

Sidney’s mom’s sweet and nurturing voice echoed through the door. 

“I brought something decent Y/N can change into and a few extra pads for the night.” she adds.

“Come in, Mom.” Sidney politely allows. 

You sigh just as you gently push him off of you. He breaks a laugh, shortly following your tracks.

You meet his mother’s gentle eyes the moment she has swung the door open. 

“Hey, hon.” she greets you and you almost think that you were unworthy of every kindness she’s shown you since you set foot in her home.

“I’m really sorry, Mrs. Crosby.” you genuinely apologize once she enters the room.

“Mrs. Crosby? Oh dear, please. Just call me Trina.” she warmly smiles, handing you a neatly pressed yellow dress and a cream-colored vintage pouch you assume holding all that’s going to put an end to your current misery. Sidney’s mother continues. “And don’t you fret, darling. You’ve got nothing to apologize for.”

“I’ll go and fix up the bathroom,” Sidney plants a quick kiss on your temple and was about to exit, but his mother was apparently a lot quicker than ‘the kid’ himself.

“Hey! No. Uh-uh.” Trina clicks her tongue and strictly commands the Penguins captain.

You shamelessly watch his shoulders drop, submitting to every word his mom utters.

“You’re gonna come back down and help your father with the grill. Tay’s setting up the table so you might want to help on that too. The family’s about to arrive but until then, I’ll be the one to take care of Y/N. You are not to bother this young lady while you’re under my roof, understand?” 

Sidney was about to contest but his mother left no room for his retorts. “—and don’t you kids think about driving home.”

Trina then gently puts her hand on your forearm, beginning to stir you away from his son. She softly puts her gaze on you as she winks and sincerely says, “You’re gonna spend the night here. You’re family now.”

𖥸

“Hi,” Sidney says the same amidst his evidently knocked off trance. He lets Luke slide off his arms just as his little hand lands onto his dad’s.

Truth be told, you may have spent the last few years getting rid of the time you’ve shared with him, but frankly, forgetting is the last thing Sidney would ever think of doing. No matter how painful and no matter how hard it is for him to hold onto what has been — what will never be, Sidney just couldn’t find it in himself to let go of the woman he’d already lost a long time ago.

But who’s to say that he had really lost you?

“I’m sorry I was late,” he chokes on his words. “I was waiting for your message.”

Startled, you reply, “Waiting?”

“Well, actually, I arrived ten minutes ago.” he sheepishly confesses. “I just didn’t want to seem… excited.”

You press your lips together, trying so hard to bite back a foolish smile. “Please, come in. Make yourself comfortable.” you finally allow. “I’ll go get Luke’s things so we can go.”

Your home was frequently something that entered Sidney’s mind. He’s thought about it at the most random times over the past month, may it be when it’s quiet or when he’s just alone. 

He’d thought about what it looks like. How big or small it is for you and his little one. Not that he doubts your capabilities of building a home, of course. That’s the least of Sidney’s worries. 

He’d made up an image of what it’s going to be like. He had imagined a house that is filled with windows for he knows how much you love the sun. It would have a wall that’s entirely dedicated for a giant bookcase because he knows how much you loved spending your afternoons reading books. And if the odds of him setting foot in your home will ever be in his favor, he’d imagined that the kitchen will probably be the place he would associate with you the most. 

However, now that he knew the odds were indeed in his favor, everything he imagined was far from the house that stood before his eyes. It was cozy. He loved how the hardwood floors accentuated the beams that decorated the ceiling of the living room. The house itself was far from being grand like the kind he’s gotten used to walking into when visiting homes of the league’s most prominent individuals. But then again, you were never the kind to splurge on unnecessary things. That’s mainly the reason why Sidney loved how everything within his reach just made perfect sense. 

“You like?” Luke inquires as he glances up at his father looking over a number of picture frames sprawled articulately on the huge accent wall. 

Sidney chuckles at how expectant Luke’s eyes were as he looked at him. He nods, taking his eyes back onto the bits and pieces of what your life has been like in the past six years. Five of which are portraits of his son through the years, starting from when he was a newborn up to the recent one taken last January 6th, Luke’s fifth birthday. 

The child silently observes his father as he jumps up the couch, adoring the same photos he’s used to wake up to each morning. Sidney leans on the back of the couch and puts his hand on his son’s back, mindful of the boy’s balance. 

Some of the pictures were old ones, taken from when you were still pregnant with Luke. Some were taken with your folks back home during the holidays. Some were just the embodiment of what life’s been like for you without Sidney. However, there is a particular frame he happens to like the most. It holds a black and white picture of you and Luke taken mid-laugh, with messy flour patches spread all over your faces. You were holding Luke in your arms, evidently giggling as you tickled his sides.

He couldn’t find a single flaw. Your scrunched up nose, your laugh,—oh and how your eyes glittered as you looked at his son. He noticed every line on your face, every sign of aging he was glad you had too. It was captured so perfectly, immortalizing yet another memory Sidney realizes he would never have in his life.

Sidney would be lying if he’d tell you seeing all these pictures doesn’t dig up emotions he’s obviously buried and hid away from you right from the moment he learned about Luke. He knows what he did was wrong. Perhaps, that’s why he’s being punished. 

But even if he’s worked on keeping it together for himself for so long, Sidney wasn’t invincible. Yes, he wanted nothing else but to get you back and set things right with you, but he’s also got to admit that he was still hurting just as much as you were.

He was angry. He was angry at you for keeping his son from him and he was angry at himself for being the one that caused it. He felt so many things at once that he couldn’t grasp how he should’ve properly processed the inevitable and abrupt changes that will unearth all the messes that’s been swept aimlessly under a rug for six whole years.

Nevertheless, the smile printed on his face by the time you walked into the living room is just enough to keep everything at bay. 

Sidney meets your eyes, and you return the same smile.

“Ready to go?”

𖥸

You were undoubtedly nervous the entire way to the Malkins and you need not bother to hide it for Sidney saw right through you. 

Well, at least some things haven’t changed.

“How are you feeling?” Sidney couldn’t help but ask. 

You give him a half-hearted smile and still manage to answer, “I’m nervous.”

You were. However, the answer to why you were nervous, isn’t something Sidney needed to know.

Yet.

“These are just the same people.” he says, trying to ease out your anxiousness. “You’ve got nothing to worry about.”

But maybe you do. He just didn’t know.

“Uh, who’s coming again? Everyone, right?” you tread lightly.

Sidney nods as he enters the gates of Geno’s Pennsylvania home. He absently lists the very few people that were expected to come, including the ones that were already waiting for them at the venue. 

Kris and Cath.

As he looks through the rearview mirror, Sidney immediately notices Geno going down to meet him by the outdoor garage designated for visitors. Once you do, you take a deep whole breath and put your entire focus on nothing else but your son. 

“Alright, kiddo.” you say with a blank smile. “Ready to meet some new people?”

𖥸

If your calculations were right, you’re sure that Sidney talked to Geno and his wife, Anna, for about five minutes before Kris and Cath followed them outside. 

Much to Sidney’s surprise, Catherine Letang had pretty much the same worry plastered in her eyes. It’s odd how it is almost exactly how yours looked even before he got out of the car. 

He mindfully looks back at your direction in spite of his car hiding most of you and your son’s figure from everyone else to see. 

You see Sidney gesture towards your way on the window situated across from you. You’re holding your son’s hand as your body irrevocably begins its descent into the cold and numbing fortuity of the yawning void, that is, Luke meeting your old family.

You free your child from his booster seat, undoubtedly taking your time unbuckling him from the car seat his father happened to have brought for this special occasion. 

“You guys ready?” 

Your heart nearly jumps out of your chest when you hear Sidney’s deep voice. 

“Yeah,” you absently answer as if your mind was beginning to shut down and work on auto-pilot.

Luke cheers as he sees Sidney outside the car.

“I’m  ready!”

Oh, the things you’d give to have another shot at thinking things through.

Sidney chuckles and messes with Luke for a few seconds. Not that it was the only exchange you were thinking of at the moment. 

“Alright, come on now.” he puts his hands beneath Luke’s arms to support him. “You wanna hop? One, two,– three!” 

Your son’s beaming giggles echoes over the place, and somehow, you were thankful that he’s with you to keep you grounded. 

One.

“Hold mom’s hand, bud.” Sidney tells your son when he notices Luke was still holding his hand. 

“Mommy, hands.” he says, as he reaches for yours. Your stone cold palm enveloped the warmth exuding off of your son’s, making you take one final breath before you walk up to the landscaped patio. 

Two. 

Across from the outdoor stairs you were about to embark on stood the familiar figures of the Malkins and the Letangs. The very people that happily and selflessly have lived life with you while you were in Pittsburgh. 

Your son was rather immersed in talking to his father about who knows what for you were evidently not in your sound mind to discern all that is happening around you at once.

Your eyes met Cath’s as you took on the final threads and you were sure that she was thinking of the same thing. 

“Auntie Cath!” 

Luke, your son whom you’ve sworn a thousand times that you love with every fiber of your being, breaks away from you and his father just to run up the final steps and meet Catherine Letang in a full embrace. 

Three.

𖥸 

Living your days off of pure eternal bliss is something you’ve often imagined at times when it’s quiet, and you have the luxury of wonderment all to yourself. But just as you grow older, as you feel your body slowly catching up to age, perhaps quiet is by far, already the closest you’d ever have to pure eternal bliss.

That is at least how you think about it then. 

However, now, as you are actually getting older, it’s been getting harder to find peace in nothing but a quiet afternoon of pure eternal bliss. 

One might ask why. But the clear answer was right in front of your own eyes.

“Mommy, am I old?” the answer asks in his most innocent voice. 

You were quick to furrow your brows for it was clearly the last thing you’d ever want to hear him utter. You shake your head, “No, baby. You’re turning four in a few months, remember?” 

Your son hums quietly to himself just as he says, “I wanna grow old.”

“Why?” you question at once.

“So I could be thirty like you.” he sincerely declares, devoid of what his words really meant.

Nevertheless, conversations like this one are the very thing that you loved about being a mother to your three-year-old son.

“Why would you want to be thirty?” you ask.

“Because… we’re best friends.” he simply states, playing with some of your baking tools still laid flat all over the kitchen island. Shortly after succeeding his brief episode of being caught on the side tracks, he continues. “We should be thirty together.”

You don’t hide the distinct yet warm expression on your face as you lovingly look at your little boy.

“Well, alright.” you say. “How about we turn thirty again just for today?” 

Delighted by what you’d just said, Luke mused with hopeful doe eyes. “We can do that?”

“Of course, baby. We’re just going to have to bake a cake.” you tell him. “How does that sound?”

Luke flashes his gleeful smile in an instant. Undoubtedly on board with such a clever idea. 

He willfully nods, “Sounds good!” 

The shrill sound of the doorbell puts your spontaneous afternoon activity into a halt. You actually missed it a couple of times for you were rather occupied with wiping off the flour that was now covering half the face of your son. 

You made your way towards the door, absent-mindedly forgetting to look at the peephole.

By the time you see her hair of silk, articulately woven to mirror the golden sun, and her eyes that’s exactly like the irises of the first child you’ve ever loved, you knew that there was no point in turning back.

“Catherine.” you breathe out her name, almost in utter and total disbelief.

She meets you with a taunting grin, the kind you’ve already gotten used to over the years spent loving men who loved nothing else more than the game of hockey. 

“So, it’s true.” she says. “I knew you would never tell me you’re back, so go easy on Claire.”

You sigh and roll your eyes as you finally swing the door wide open. “You wore her down, didn’t you?”

Cath gives you a proud shrug, and you couldn’t help but shake your head.

With quirked brows, she voices, “Come on? What do I have to do to get a proper hug around here?” 

The two of you pull yourselves in an embrace, lingering for a moment for old time’s sake.

“You’re crazy.”

Said moment, however, was briefly disturbed when a little voice came up behind you with an inkling tone laced in his words. 

“Mommy? Who’s at the door?”

Cath follows you inside and crouches to meet you and your kid to level with his eyes.

“Hey, sweetie.” you held your son’s waist as you looked at him. “I’d like you to meet Aunt Cath. One of Momma’s friends in Pittsburgh, just like Aunt Claire.” 

Your son briefly looks at you, as if he was asking for your approval. You do nothing but encourage him that everything’s going to be alright. It honestly didn’t take much to convince him for you happened to have raised such an amazing kid with this incredible trusting nature.

“Hi, Auntie Cath.” he greets Kris’ wife.

“Hi, Lukey.” Catherine greets him back. “You know, I only saw you once from a picture your mom sent me on the day you were born.”

Amused, you see your son’s eyes widen at the thought of himself as a newborn. 

“Really?” he giddily asks. “What did I look like?” 

Cath gives him a sweet smile, “You were just as handsome as you are now.”

Luke giggles, “Would you like to turn thirty with us?”

Curious, but doesn’t find the need to question, Cath lovingly answers, “Oh, I’d love to.” 

You wouldn’t deny that you were actually surprised when your son took Cath’s hand and began leading her towards the kitchen. 

There, as the three of you exchanged laughter and stories of what has been and what already is, Cath was able to see that every pain and hardship she’s seen you go through was every bit of worth it.

As she becomes a witness to how your life is now with the baby she once thought you’ve already lost during what seemed like the longest night of her life, Cath knew that if she’d be given a chance to right her own wrongs that time, she’d bail and do everything she’d done for you and for your son just the same.

Subtly, Cath pulls away from the giggling banter between a mother and her child.

She quickly pulls out her phone, envisioning a simple and natural image of a mundane afternoon. The very same image that, lo and behold, got stuck around proudly displayed along with the rest of the milestones you’ve captured with your son through the years. 

𖥸 

For the past thirty-three years that he’s lived, Sidney had never really thought he’d be stupid enough to ever make a fool of himself. Sure, there might be a few individuals who have notably taken advantages for their own sake through him, but it was something he didn’t mind for he wasn’t really bothered and alarmed of it. 

Although, now, as he stood still before all his friends who he’s treated like family over the years he’d spent loving the Steel City, Sidney did feel like a fool. The odd man out. An empty shell of a man, clearly and willfully disregarded by his own peers.

The name circled his mind like it was a bullet aimed straight at his heart. Auntie Cath. 

“You knew?” 

Sidney’s voice couldn’t be heard for it came as a whisper that’s eventually swallowed by the incoming summer breeze. 

“Sid,” Cath tries but all she could do was look at you, pretty much like everyone else without a single clue to what just unfolded on such a peaceful afternoon. 

“Wait– wait, hold on. You knew?” Sidney’s voice accidentally rises, forgetting about the five-year-old child still witnessing the scene. 

As quickly as she could, Cath crouches to gently talk to your son, wearing her best smile. 

“Hey, mon ange. Just like old times, okay?” Cath looked at you one last time as she held your son’s hand. She takes her gaze back onto Lucas and whispers. “Let’s go inside.” 

You were honestly glad that for a brief moment, the great magnitude of the other thing you obviously hid from everyone, not just Sidney, was at least mediated by the presence of your child. But as soon as Sidney was sure that his son was out of hearing distance, he was rather quick to pin his focus on the unsuspecting defenseman.

“How about you, Kris?” his authoritative and perhaps, most captain-like voice exudes off of him. “Did you know anything about this?”

You watch Kris search for answers he wasn’t even sure of existing. He had his own questions to worry about, and he knows that none of what he’s going to say now would help the already escalating situation at hand. 

“I- I didn’t know she knew about Luke.” he meekly answers, visibly as dumbfounded as everyone else.

“Your wife sees me every time I come by when we drop off Alex from school and you’re telling me you didn’t know?”

“Sid, look, I told you as soon as I could—” Kris appeals.

You firmly place your hand on Sidney’s arm and drive him away from the heated argument you know is about to ensue even with Geno and Anna around. 

“I know this is a lot to process, but you’ve got to listen.” you assert. “Kris didn’t know until the day he saw me. Everything he knows then and now is exactly everything he’s already told you.”

Sidney’s jaw clenches, and it was just enough for you to understand.

“Could you guys give us a minute?” 

You look at Kris, Geno, and Anna with nothing but apologetic eyes. 

“Let’s talk later.”

𖥸 

“Sidney,” you attempt, facing his broad back just as he continues to walk further back to his car.

“Cath knew?” he questions the moment he was sure that everyone else was gone. 

You stand just a few meters away from his car, taking the impending screaming match out and about the very-much open front yard of the Malkins. 

He had his hand on his hips, with furrowed brows and that sharp look on his face that apparently still hasn’t changed. Sidney runs his other hand through his hair just as it eventually falls on his lips, all in an effort to choke down a scoff of disbelief.

“Cath knew?” he repeats, mostly to himself, clearly still having a hard time wrapping his head around the weight that befell him. “Cath knew and you didn’t tell me? I thought we were already okay?”

Already?

That’s quite a shot there and Sidney knew too. 

Maybe, just this time, he’d let himself burst. Maybe just this time, he’d allow himself to let you know what he truly feels. Maybe just this time he’d stop walking around eggshells just because he’s afraid of losing you again. He might actually lose you. That’s at least what he’s certain about.

However, just this time, maybe it’ll help if he’d let you have a peek at the miserable life he’s had to live with for the years of being the one that’s left behind; the one that couldn’t do much but stare at picture frames mocking him to his very core of the very thing he happens to regret the most.

But the uncertainty remains. Just like you said, maybe things between you and Sidney haven’t really changed for the next words that came out of your mouth were just enough to poke the already ticking time bomb.

“Did you honestly think we were okay? That we will ever be?” You fold your arms to your chest and all that Sidney could do was to try and reach for you. But how could he possibly do that if you’re always walking away?

“You know I had no intention of letting you know.” you deadpan. “That’s what we’ve talked about, right?”

He couldn’t believe you. He couldn’t believe every word you just said. 

“Damn it, Y/N.” he spoke through gritted teeth and finally blew. 

The pain, guilt, and regret course through his veins like vile being forced into his system.

“To hell with what we’ve talked about!” 

In spite of your racing heart upon the possibility that you might actually be the one in the wrong this time, for choosing not to tell him, you didn’t budge. Instead, you held your ground and faced him with so much pride. 

“Excuse me?” you scoff a laugh. “You’re one mad man, Sidney—”

“I guess I am mad,” he breathes, cutting you off. “And you know what? I’m not just mad, I’m angry! I’m frustrated, y/n! I’m disappointed for always being the last person to know about my own life!” 

The captain begins to break, thinking of the times he’d spent running around asking questions to people that didn’t really hold the right answer.

“You know what? I don’t care about what you’re going to say. I am angry! I have the right to be angry. And I’ve been angry since the moment I knew you hid my son from me for five fucking years! Five years, Y/N! I lost so much time just because you hated me! Just because you resent me! Do you even know how selfish that is?”

“Selfish? You’re one to talk.” you just stare at him. “You are absolutely out of your mind, Crosby. You don’t have—”

“No! I do! You don’t get to talk now, y/n. I already gave you that. I’ll do all the talking now.” he bellows and it was just enough to shut you up.

“Yes, I may be fucking out of my mind but this is my fucking turn—” 

“Hey you guys,” Kris cuts the captain off as he walks down the path towards the garage. He was followed by Anna and Geno, desperately hoping for your argument to end.

You could see how frustrated Sidney was through his demeanor. It almost seemed impossible for him to contain all his emotions and ensure that he wouldn’t fall apart in just a snap.

“I know I might get myself punched in the face for doing this, but the children are hearing you.” Kris continues, testing the waters. “Alex can see you through the windows, so please. This is clearly not the place. I know we’re the only ones here for this exact reason but I wouldn’t want you guys ruining Nikita’s birthday just because you couldn’t see past both of your mistakes. You aren’t alone. Your son is here too. Can we at least let this go and give the kids a good time? For now?” 

With hands balled into fists and bloodshot eyes that just wouldn’t meet your gaze, Sidney’s sharp look on his face that undeniably scared the shit out of Kris, was the last thing you see before he turned his back and started walking away.

“I’m so sorry, Anna.” you apologize as soon as she reaches to hold you. 

“It’s okay.” she says, firmly holding your hand to let you know that she was by your side. 

“Let’s go and have a drink.”

Geno breathes, and takes on the suggestion. 

“Well, I could definitely use some right about now.” he sighs, already dragging Kris with him as they both march to follow the track Sidney just left. 

𖥸

Unlike Geno, alcohol would be the very last thing Sidney wanted in his system. 

He was actually glad that Kris had the guts to step up. He didn’t think he was sane enough to think of things like he usually does. He knew he needed to blow off some steam, and as much as he hated it, it was clear to him that what the two of you are now compared to what you were six years ago is arguably ten times worse than he’d initially thought. 

Neither of you was the same, and even if it actually scares him just thinking about it, it almost seemed like neither of you would ever meet on the same page.

“That’s so cool!” Luke’s voice takes him back to reality. 

There’s at least one good thing that happened over the afternoon. The children. 

Luke, just as always, was his ever so charming self and he actually didn’t have a hard time communicating with Nikita nor Alex, in spite of the obvious gap in their age. Alex may still be getting to know you again, but you adored how he stepped up and acted like a big brother to Luke right from the moment they were introduced. 

“Follow me boys, okay?” Alex puts Nikita and Luke to his sides, leading them to form their proper stance.

“Let’s work on your facies.” Kris’ eldest accurately guides the two boys for a faceoff. “Luke, you go here and bend on your knees.”

Luke mirrors Nikita’s stance and he inquires, “Like this?”

“Yes! Exactly. Good job, buddy.” Alex tells him.

“Alright,” Alex begins as he stands in between Geno and Sidney’s son.

“Kiets, you good?” he asks, to which Nikita answers with a confident nod. 

Kris chuckles as he watches his boy play-referee as the younger ones practice their own hockey skills inside the rink. He chimes, “And here I am thinking he’s actually gonna be a D-man.” 

“Just wait a couple years.” Geno joins and teases. “Who knows? He might end up becoming a lawyer.” 

Kris just rolls his eyes and chugs down a huge mouthful of beer. 

Sidney, albeit still in an indiscernible mood following recent events, couldn’t help but smile as he observed his own son skating freely in Nikita’s spare roller skates.

Suddenly, the fathers erupt in loud and celebratory cheers together with their kids as Luke manages to get the puck past the make-shift goalie that Geno made himself for Nikita. 

“Atta boy, Lucas!” Sidney beams as his voice immediately takes his son’s attention.

“Did you see me! Did you see me!” Luke jumps onto his father with glee— an action that Sidney was fast to anticipate. Sidney takes him in his arms, lifting him off the ground, along with the worries that clouded his mind.

“You were so great in there! Good job!” 

He tells him with a huge smile. 

One that eventually faded when Luke replied.

“Let’s go and tell mom!”

What was Sidney supposed to do? What could he have done differently? 

It seemed like he’s gotten used to you blatantly stepping all over him that he actually thought he’d be able to stomach the way you have been treating him. Maybe he truly did. But until then, he knows that his little outburst will eventually and inevitably cause him. 

He just wishes it wouldn’t be his kid.

𖥸

It had been at least over an hour or two since you and Sidney parted ways right after Nikita blew on his candles. You’ve spent a good chunk of the time getting yourself reacquainted with your old friends whilst you watch the boys gather on the roller rink Geno had set up for his son’s birthday. 

Needless to say, you spent the afternoon taking care of your son whilst managing to bond with your old girlfriends, Anna and Catherine. Although, even if the bond you’ve shared with them is clearly still as strong as you have left it, you’ve got to admit, not having the Fleury’s around feels strange; pretty much almost like spending the entire time avoiding Sidney. 

“Aunt Y/N,” you instantly put away the first and only glass of wine you’ve allowed yourself to drink when you see Alex enter through the sliding doors, already calling your name. 

He was still sweaty from playing a bit of field hockey but nonetheless, you offer him a kind smile and encourage him to continue.

“Can Nikita and I take Luke for a switch game?” he politely asks. 

Switch? You think to yourself. You must’ve failed to mask your utter cluelessness for Alex seemed to have caught on to how you possibly didn’t get what he just said. 

Thus, he clarifies with a sheepish and polite smile. “We’re just going to play Mario Kart for a bit.” 

Oh. Video games. Nintendo Switch. 

You let out a nervous laugh just as you smoothen your dress. You were undeniably getting old.

“You boys just go and play.” you let him. “But be careful, alright?”

You watch Alex eagerly nodding his head before he zooms off to the family room of Geno’s home where they often arrange playdates so the boys could spend some time off school and be kids. 

Anna and Catherine walk in the room, holding their own fresh batch of drinks from the bar. 

“Oh, dear.” Anna clicks her tongue.

“Luke’s one of them now.” 

Is that a bad thing? You wanted to know. 

“Well,” Cath joins. “It’s pretty obvious that Nikita loves having Luke around.”

“You guys really think so?” you can’t help but smile.

“Are you kidding me? You barely got the chance to be with your kid because he’s off having a great time with our boys.” Anna assures you.

“I really didn’t think they’d ever be in the same room, let alone interact as if they’ve known each other since birth.” you honestly say.

Cath looks at you, obviously trying to stop herself from swerving the conversation onto the elephant in the room. She clicks her tongue, “That’s why you need to patch up things with Sid.”

“Catherine,” you playfully warn and shake your head.

“What?” she backs up defensively. “It’s not like I’m ordering you to get back with him. Just work on being friends. Who knows? That might work.”

“I’m pretty sure we’re beyond repair.” you say, masking your melancholy as you take a sip of your drink.

Anna is quick to chime in, “Whatever happens, we’re never letting you leave us again.”

The three of you were caught by the cheering of your children coming from the family room. Alex was enthusiastically yelling a series of ‘Go!’s while the younger ones giggle like there’s no tomorrow — utterly clueless to the chaos of the world.

By the time you look back, your eyes landed on Cath’s soft gaze, obviously sharing the sentiment as Anna, “And neither will they.”

𖥸 

By the time all the goodbye’s were exchanged and the gratitude were expressed, all you could think of was the same thing as Sidney. The entire walk to his car, in spite of the short distance, was tedious and mind numbingly slow. If your mother was here, she would’ve told you countless times about the importance of bringing your own car. But until then, you and your son are stuck with Sidney as your ride. 

The deafening silence caused by the repressed tension sat rather comfortably between the two of you all throughout the car ride. It was quite a clever irony straight from the playbook. Having Luke soundly asleep at the back didn’t really help considering he’s obviously and undeniably the only glue that keeps you and Sidney together. 

It was as if you’ll always be one step forward and two steps back with the father of your child. And as you sit beside him in the passenger seat, your mind wanders off in the distance. 

Was letting Sidney back into your life a mistake? 

“Look, y/n,” Sidney’s voice cuts through the ice separating the two of you.

You instantly cut him off, “Let’s not.”

Your eyes shot through the dashboard mirror, briefly checking on your son still in deep slumber. 

“I don’t want to risk Luke hearing us argue.” you simply tell him.

It’s true. What happened earlier was a great reminder of what you’re scared of ever since letting Sidney get to know your son. It’s clear that you still have the same differences you thought you’ve already outgrown and you can’t simply put the situation of having a child together as an easy fix. The two of you are undoubtedly racing into the point of severance. And boy, even if you don’t want to admit it, deep down you were afraid of things not actually working out between you and Sidney. 

You feel him steal glances your way before eventually turning his gaze back on the road. 

“I just want to apologize.” he tells you sincerely. “I wasn’t at my best today and I let my emotions get a better hold of me. I may not understand why you and Cath did what you did but I know I’m the last person that actually has the right to question you and your decisions. There shouldn’t have been an argument today. I’m sorry.” 

“I wasn’t exactly my best self either.” you sigh and accept his apology. 

There was a sheer silence, the kind that settles in before a storm. 

“Sidney,” you begin. “I think it would be best for us to just focus on Luke from now on.” 

Unlike what you initially expected, you didn’t hear another word from him the entire way home. Sure, it may be something that bothered you, but a little part of you thinks that this might be for the better. 

And if better equates to what Cath told you, then maybe you and Sidney could live with that.

Luke was far off in dreamland by the time you got home, therefore making the tiresome night you just had a little bit harder than it already was. Sidney kindly offered to be the one to take Luke into your home but it was an offer you also kindly refused. And so, even if you were undeniably tired to your bones, you took your son in your arms and walked all the way to the front door.

“Hey.” Sidney’s voice is calm as he calls you. “Thank you for today. You know, in spite of—” 

“You’re welcome.” You offer him a kind smile, not wanting him to finish what he’s about to say. “It seemed like he really had fun.”

Of all things that happened today, you were actually glad that Sidney was still reaching out.

“Can I…” Sidney tries. He looks you in the eye and silently wishes that how he acted today hasn’t screwed up what he has already started making up for. 

“Can I still see him tomorrow?” 

You give him your approval and genuinely tell him, “You can come and pick him up by 10.” 

Sidney obligingly nods as your kind smile, and his tired son sleeping in your arms was the last thing he sees by the time you close the door. 

That night, just like he always had, Sidney walked to his car with the same knowledge that he’d be driving all alone to an empty home. Which he did.

However, this time it was different. For as he took one last glance at the light coming from your windows, Sidney got in his car and drove all the way home, still bearing with him the very thing he thinks he’ll never have again with you. Hope.

series taglist: 

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note: updates might come a bit slower than originally planned. i’m thinking on updating this series every other saturday, giving me ample time to write and focus on my responsibilities in life overall. i hope you guys understand :(( anw, you know how much of a sucker i am for interaction so lmk what you think and i hope you liked this chapter ♡

add yourself to the series taglist here. i appreciate all kinds of feedback! ♡

[barzzal]

call me crosby → part two

summary: Young, reckless, and rash, an unplanned pregnancy causes a massive rift in your relationship with then, cup-hungry 27 year-old Sidney Crosby. As he gets caught up in his own childish and selfish ways, confused to what was once certain, he lets you struggle alone. His absence reasons a miscarriage scare that leads you to end the relationship. Years after losing you, having to live a life that’s surrounded with the families his friends have built through the years embodies his greatest regret. Now with three cups and tons of awards at his disposal, Sid is given a chance to right his wrongs and win what was once the biggest loss of his life.

pairing: sidney crosby x fem!reader gen. warnings: language and theme, co-parenting, mentions of pregnancy & false miscarriage, sexual/suggestive themes, 18+ ch. warnings: minor flashback, issues, grudges, and resentment buried for years part 1 HAH. jk. genre: hockey rpf, fluff, angst, smut, kid-fic, exes to lovers length: series; 10.8k masterlist: the barn, series masterlist track: sidney’s theme — to build a home by the cinematic orchestra and to let a good thing die by bruno major

note: i know i said it’s not until tomorrow. i lied!!! it’s sidney’s draft day anniversary today and i thought it’d be great to celebrate it with an update ;”)) i love this man too much i couldn’t help it. and another thing, just a gentle reminder that cmc is also the aftermath of an unhealthy amount of time spent reading articles and watching random videos of sidney crosby. i hope you guys enjoy it as much as i did writing it. happy reading! <3 (gif used: mine)

disclaimer: this is a work of fiction. teasers, interviews, events, and the like that are included in the series are purely made for fictional purposes and do not/should not represent any of the names involved in real life. please proceed with caution.

For the past weeks that have gone, Sidney was sure that he’d spent the latter high of his 1000th career game on auto pilot. Thank you. It means a lot. Thank you. It’s been a great honor. Thank you. I truly appreciate it. The list goes on and on along with the endless congratulatory praises and gifts he had been receiving.

To tell you frankly, it’s not that he wasn’t grateful because, really, he was. He couldn’t be more thankful for the people responsible for the man he’s become today. He knows where to give those rightful credits to and those people also happened to have already expressed the same gratitude. 

So what was the problem? 

It was neither the giant silver stick nor the Rolex and other memorabilia given to him by his colleagues. It didn’t even come close to that. Although, the dinner party in celebration of his huge milestone? That one nearly did. 

By the time most of the wives were getting pulled out by the phone calls coming from their sitters at home, everyone knew that the night was coming to a close. Sure enough, despite thinking that they were being subtle about it, the glances Geno, Kris, Jeff, and a few more others exchanged with their spouses was more than enough to let the Captain know his day was over. 

“Congrats, man. You fuckin’ did it.” Kris gives him a tight hug as they part ways at the driveway.

“I fuckin’ did.” he laughs, trying to keep his head light. 

“Drive safe, you guys.” he adds, letting go of his best defenseman. He watches him jog onto the other side whilst Cath gives him a quick peck on the cheek to bid him goodbye. 

“Are you sure you’re gonna be okay?” she asks, trying to mask the worry evident in her eyes. However, before Sidney could even answer, a rather huge figure comes from the back and springs an arm over his neck, almost knocking his balance off with the choke hold.

“Why wouldn’t he be? I’m here!” Geno declares proudly.

“No, stop.” Sid refuses, “You’ve got to go home.” 

He laughs but breaks away so he could put a hand on Geno’s shoulder. 

For the many years they’ve known each other, Sid has learnt the art of persuading everyone he loved to just— go. He’s not one to want to cause anyone trouble. Never have, never will. And now that he knows what his friends are trying to do, he just couldn’t let them sit with him wallowing in self-pity. They don’t need to tell him they know about it because it’s become an unspoken thing. Caging his melancholy was the one thing he’d let himself have all these years. It was for him to worry about. Neither Geno’s nor Kris’. 

“Come on.” he says as he starts to lead him towards Anna who was already waiting by the car. 

“I could stay, Sid.” Geno insists earnestly but it was something Sid purposely declined. 

“You told it yourself. I’m not ‘Sid the Kid’ anymore.” he jokes but Geno was able to see the sincerity in his eyes. 

“I’m going to be just fine.” Sidney assures him with a tight-lipped smile.

Despite not wanting to, Geno lets his hand fall off his best mate’s shoulder, finally letting go.

Sidney knew he wasn’t ‘the Kid’ anymore. It has been awhile since he had disassociated himself from such a narrative for it was something he had to learn longer before everyone had. 

The thing is, Sid the Kid was a promise. A promise everyone had their eyes peeled for even when he was just an eight year old boy. Sid the Kid was the hype deserving enough to be coined as the ‘next’ Great One even by Gretzky himself. But beyond all those fancy names and titles, Sid knows ‘the Kid’ wasn’t all that. 

He was hungry and often fueled with great desire to prove himself. Always in constant pursuit of a purpose so profoundly calculated in every move he’s ever made. He wanted so many things at once just so he could meet all the great expectations already been laid out for him; most were even by the biggest names in the league. He wanted to prove that he could live up to the hype and so he did so much more. 

But at what cost?

That night, Sid watched all his friends pull out his driveway with nothing but just the tail lights of their cars waving back at him— no, mocking him of where they were actually headed. 

Home. 

He rubs the sleep off his eyes as he is greeted by the crisp white ceiling accentuated by dark tones of grey embodying the void he’s ever since felt whenever he rested in the confines of his own bedroom. 

The white noise of the room floods his ears and he sighs, a tired one still groggy and fazed from sleep. He barely moved under the sheets for it was comfortable. It was warm yet soothingly cold at the same time; just the exact temperature he likes waking up to. 

Lazily, he perks his head up, eyes slightly squinted as he looks at the clock situated on the bedside table. The black metal shines underneath the sun rays peeking through the curtains. 

The red dot blinks and so does he.

6:30 AM. It read. 

Without much hesitation, despite wanting to stay in bed a bit longer, he pulls himself up and pushes the rest of the gray colored duvet covering his half naked body. He swings his legs off the bed and stands. It was another day. And just like he always had, he’s beaten the clock half an hour before the alarm. 

His strides were long, aiming for the bathroom. It doesn’t take much of his time going over his morning routine. There were a few noticeable white streaks showing on the sides of his head since the last time he had his hair done. He doesn’t mind because it was something he has now grown to love. It doesn’t mean he was getting old, he knows it. He still has years to enjoy just being the man he was able to grow out of the ‘kid’ everybody knew. But even if it was indeed a sign, a peek to the years left for him, perhaps growing older wouldn’t be so bad. 

Once he’s done in the bathroom, hair still wet from the shower and waist beautifully wrapped in the thick white cotton fabric of the towel, he makes way towards the kitchen with only two things in mind: coffee and his voicemails. 

He casually treads in between the counters and the huge marble island just as he presses the button of the machine. He’s known as an old conventional man for most people that knew him so of course he’d still have a machine. 

The sharp beep surrounded the room instantly whilst he took his time starting to make his first cup of coffee for the day. The machine beeped for the second time and the line opened, paving way for Paul Bissonette’s tedious and loud mouthed voice. 

“Hey, Sidney, my man! Just wanted to congratulate you again on the thousand games. Let’s celebrate and hit a few balls, eh? Let me know when you’re free.” 

He pours the ground coffee into the lid before screwing it shut. The motor hums to life once he pressed a few buttons. The second voicemail plays whilst he reaches for an old magazine resting linear to him. It was odd that he doesn’t recall when and how it got there in the first place. 

It was a sports issue he remembered lying around years and years ago back when his house wasn’t too dull and too black and white despite its obvious colors. 

Back when it was still a home. 

Sidney begrudgingly flips on a couple of pages. He’s bored waiting for his coffee and listening to his voicemails. It seemed nice to have something to entertain himself for a little while. However, before he even got to half of the issue, a black piece of film accidentally slips through his hands and falls, landing straight on the floor right next to his feet. 

His hands grazed over the worn out filter of what seems to be an old polaroid once he bent over. 

He knew what was waiting for him on the other side. After all, he can only think of one person who’d be leaving such things for him to find. Nonetheless, he dives into his curiosity and decides to flip it over.

Sidney’s face falls blank for a moment. A part of him knew he shouldn’t have bothered looking. He always had. But just like all the other times he’s let himself think about what happened, he can’t help but submit to the same endless ‘what ifs’ that has never failed to drown him ever since. 

His calloused hand carefully holds the photograph as he runs his thumb on its corners already showing off the time it’s spent squeezed shut in between the glossy pages. 

It was patched, tattered, and yellowed. Pretty much like the young Sidney smiling widely as his chin took rest on the bare shoulder of a girl alienated by all the changes that took over the said polaroid. 

Yes, it was patched, tattered, and yellowed. 

The entirety of it actually. 

Except you. 

For you looked exactly like how he chose to remember. 

The woman who loved him most; through and through with no questions. The one who loved him even if he was far less deserving to receive any of it at times he felt short of the man he actually was. 

Sidney misses the fourth and fifth voicemail that came in the machine and got taken back to his rightful mind when Kris’ voice came right after the next beep. 

“Sid, call me as soon as you get this.” he said, making Sid prop himself up from leaning against the cold counter. 

There was a hint of hesitation in the defense man’s voice as it was followed by a brief silence. 

Sidney furrows his brows, taking the cup that was already filled with hot black coffee after settling the magazine and the old polaroid down on the cold surface; not even having the slightest clue of what was waiting for him on the other end of the line. 

“It’s… It’s about Y/N.” 

𖥸

You’ve spent the last week thinking about what Claire told you that night. 

Were you really risking everything you’ve built for your son when you let Kris meet him? 

You had your reasons when you decided to leave your life in Pittsburgh. One in particular concerned the life of your child. 

It was tough for you because you had such a difficult decision to make. You were stuck choosing between forcing yourself to want what he wanted and the life that was growing inside of you. You were blinded by the hope that he would change his mind but all that he did was leave you. Alone and very much uncared for.

Was there any other choice but to save yourself from that kind of hellish pain? He made it so easy for you to leave and that’s what you did. 

And you’ve done it all without looking back.

You had a lot of doubts upon agreeing to meet with Kris. Truth be told, you were relieved that it took more than a week for him to finally reach out and give you a call. You would’ve actually been the one to do it but you needed the time to breathe and think of what’s to happen once you decide to let your son’s existence be known and out in the open. You know that it’s going to be inevitable now that Kris wouldn’t just let you off the hook with how huge of a secret it is that you happened to have been keeping from him all these years. 

As you let Kris have the liberty to look through Luke’s photos on your phone, he takes his time digesting all the bits and pieces of what your life has been like for the past six years. 

You can tell just by the look on his face that he barely made an effort in concealing how he truly felt upon watching the videos and swiping through photos you have of your child. You let him go through it all. The videos you have of Luke from when he was just a newborn, the ones from his first birthday and the others that came after. He saw how much of an amazing mom you’ve become to your son. 

You were the same Y/N he remembers in those videos. However the Y/N sitting across from him at some quiet café downtown? He wasn’t quite sure. 

The next video Kris stumbles upon the album you’ve designated for Luke was a clip of the two of you skating at one of the outdoor rinks in your hometown dated from two years ago. You see him smile at the sight of you trying your very best at guiding a toddler whose legs were practically shaking by the time it touched the ice. 

“Oh gosh, the birthday boy’s skating!!!” said the voice you still vividly remember coming from your mom. 

It was January of 2019 when your mother technically persuaded you into letting Lucas try skating for the first time. “What’s the harm in that?” were the words she uttered that day and you just can’t help but shake your head upon the irony that’s surprisingly fashioned a supposedly harmless remark. 

Kris was practically stifling a taunting laugh as the video neared its end. You roll your eyes for you know the bit he was already on and that was the time where you were literally an inch away from your son who was pushing the trainers a tad faster for a first timer. There, before Kris’ eyes, was the sight of you panicking as then three-year-old Lucas screamed bloody murder, trying to free himself from your hold for wanting to skate away from his own mother. 

“You guys are adorable.” Kris states as he sets down your phone onto the table. 

He couldn’t thank you enough for letting him see the life you’ve built for your son. He admired you then, thinking of how strong of a woman you were for being the glue that held his friend altogether. But the woman you've become after that for Lucas? He was nothing but floored. 

You give him a polite smile, acknowledging the notion despite already knowing it yourself. Your son is the greatest. That’s just how it is. 

“I don’t even remember a time where I wasn’t running after him.” you say, letting out a nostalgic laugh, evidently in too much awe of Lucas. 

“No offense, but I honestly didn’t think you’d let him learn how to skate.” he admitted pressing his lips together. “I mean, you know,”

“I do.” you almost cut him off, not wanting to see an old friend piss himself at how hard it is for him to find the right words. 

“He— uh,” you start, taking your phone and returning it to your bag. 

“He actually told me that he wanted to play.” you finish, not even needing to say the word to make Kris’ excitement instantly show off in his demeanor. 

“Really? That’s, that’s amazing.” he eagerly replies. “What do you think about it?”

You answer in all certainty. “I think I’m going to let him.”

Even if you aren’t really a hundred percent on board with him playing on the ice, you are aware that Lucas is at the age where he’s about to start figuring out what it’s like to be his own person. And while all that included games, cartoons, and picture books, Lucas needs something that he can call his own. Soccer was your dad’s humble way of helping you get rid of whatever reminded you of Luke’s father and you will always be thankful for that. However now, even if you’re not as much of a fan as your son would like, you’re still his mom. And that meant having to have his back even if it kills you from inside.

“Have you chosen a hockey program for him?” he entwines his fingers, the thought running in his mind already lingering on the tip of his tongue. 

“Not yet.” you tell him just as you meet his eyes. 

It’s not that it’s something that needs to be stressed further being that it’s fucking obvious, but of all the years you’ve known Kris in the past and the years you’ve spent away from him and everyone else, he could’ve at least gotten a lot better at masking his facial cues. For the moment you saw the familiar glint him and everybody else that play hockey have in their eyes for each time the sport comes to the table, you know he’s audacious enough to even let you catch a glimpse of it.

You let out a scoff, finding what he clearly had in mind completely and undeniably unacceptable. 

“Oh, hell no.” you retorted.

“I didn’t say anything.” he shrugs, despite being proud of himself for getting the exact reaction he wanted from you. 

Two can play this game too, no?

“You need not to.” you tell him, letting yourself fall back to your seat, already declining even when he’s yet to say it.

“Oh, come on.” he calls your name to further press on the point he’s about to make. “It’s not going to be that bad. We can still get him in for Spring camp. And you know he’d be much safer learning from the Little Pens than any other organization.”

You can’t help but massage your temple at how huge of a matter it was that Kris is beginning to ask from you. 

“That’s a lot of risk, Tanger. And you, of all people, should know that.”

Tanger. 

Someone’s about to owe his ass a fucking lot.

Good thing he expected to get a lot of No’s from you. He’s prepared himself for that and he also happened to be a man who doesn’t really know when to shut up.

“Not if we sign him up with a different guardian— or a different name.” he says with certainty, letting you know harming your son would be the last of his intentions. “I’ll even take care of everything.”

You take a deep breath in order to let yourself digest how too good to be true everything Kris had been saying. You didn’t plan on sounding blunt but the moment you opened your mouth, words just happened to slip up. 

“Kris, why are you doing this?”

He doesn’t say much but rather places his entwined fingers on the table, maintaining his sole focus on you. 

“It’s the least I could do for not telling Sid.” he tells you. He then takes a deep breath and continues. “I understand that you don’t want him in the picture right now but I can’t stand knowing that he’s got a family and I wasn’t bothered enough to do anything about it.” 

“We are not a family.” you immediately counter, shooting the notion dead before it linger in the air far too longer.

Hearing his name was one thing. Although, having to hear Kris refer to you as a family? That’s a little too ballsy for a man who can’t even differentiate his wife’s feminine hygiene products.

He moves past what you just said and decides to let his genuine and sincere intentions speak up for him. “Let me help you because I know that’s what he's going to do if I was in his position. He still knows nothing about you and Luke and I’m sure you’d like to keep it that way, but please, all I’m asking for you is to consider. If Luke says he wants to play, he deserves every right to do so.”

“How can I be sure you’re not going to tell him?” you ask a simple query that was answered by an even simpler response from the defenseman. 

“You have no idea how many times I could’ve.” he deadpanned.

“If you’re not going to let the kid play hockey, you can at least let Sidney know about his son.” Kris plays his cards well as much as you were and you are actually impressed by it. 

The next thing he said, however, didn’t make quite the same impression. 

“He deserves to know,” he says.

He deserves to what now?

“I can’t believe you just said that.” you scoff a laugh, appalled at how bold Kris was beginning to get. 

You lean closer to the table, wanting him to digest all your words. 

“It’s as if you weren’t there, Kris. I can’t believe I’m having this conversation with you.”

“No, see, but I was. Both times.” he states almost through gritted teeth. “I was there. And I was there too when you weren’t.”

Kris knows that his wife, Cath, has a stronger bond with you. He’d seen it far too many times and it’s undeniable that if Cath knew about Luke and would have to choose between letting you keep him a secret and telling Sid, he knew full well his wife’s never going to choose the latter.

You can’t help but feel disgusted. Finding the narrative too pretentious for his type. “You don’t have to tell me. The two cups you got after I left already took care of that.”

One thing was clear for both you and Kris. You weren’t ready. You were far from ready in terms of forgetting let alone forgiving. No matter how much you try and cage it all in, you still hold grudges almost as old as your son. It sucks. It really does. You thought you already moved past whatever happened years ago the moment Luke was born but Kris seeing Luke made a lot of things you weren’t ready for inevitable. 

You know that Kris was making a fair and reasonable case and turning him down would just let your selfish ways progress. And while all you could think of right now is to leave Kris hanging, you know that the decisions you’re about to make are what's going to make up the course of Luke’s future.

So are you going to be selfish?

To some extent, maybe. 

“Listen, I’m not here to tell you the things he’s gone through when you left. Believe me, I’m really not. But I’m here, speaking as someone who’s known the man that he is now, and he’s got to know.” Kris decides to take the time and speak up on behalf of his friend. “You’ve raised such a wonderful kid and I know Sid’s going to spend his life thanking you for that. So please, I beg you. You can at least try and tell him. He’s going to want to be around.”

You avert his gaze, unsure of why you’re actually considering. 

“I don’t know, Kris.”

“I’m not rushing you. Just think about it.” he sincerely tells you. “I can’t stand the thought of Luke growing up not knowing about us. You need to know that Sid isn’t the only one who’s gonna want to be in your son’s life.”

For a few seconds, you fall silent. He was asking for a lot and he knows it. Even so, six years of having your son all to yourself could also be something so disruptive in the long run. You weren’t sure of the thing you’re about to bet on but as much as you wanted to avoid all the risks threatening your family’s peace, you knew running would be the last thing that’ll be able to solve it.

“All right.” you finally say.

Kris’ face brightens, “All right what?” 

You held your head high and spoke of the lighter weight you’d be willing enough to put on your baggage.

“Let’s sign him up for the Little Penguins.”

𖥸

“What d’ya got there, boss man?” Claire asks your son the moment she enters the kitchen. She plants a sweet kiss on top of his head just before he ruffles it. 

He looks up to acknowledge her with a smile before returning to his task. 

“PB&Js.” he answers shortly. 

You sip on your tea as you quietly observe Claire who was rather puzzled as to how Luke prepares his peanut butter and jelly sandwich. 

“You know,” she says, sliding in the seat next to your child at the breakfast table. 

She rests her chin on the palm of her hand as she continues; pursing her lips as she begins to suggest, “You can just put the peanut butter on one sandwich and then smoosh them together, bubs. Spreading jelly on top of the peanut butter is just—” 

She looks at you with a horrified look on her face before she finishes her sentence. “morbid.” 

Luke didn’t mind as he finished his snack. He shrugs, answering innocently without a care of his aunt’s insinuation. 

Unbothered, he replies, “I like it this way. It tastes better.” 

You let out a deep sigh as you spend yet another episode of having to push the fact that Luke reminds you a lot of his dad. Everyone was right. Kris was right. No matter how hard you try to erase the fact that he’s Sidney’s son, you just can’t. Not when Sidney and his ridiculous quirks are written all over Luke as if he was the exact same copy of the very last man you wanted him to be. 

He’s a Crosby.

The piercing sound of the doorbell pulls you from your Sunday afternoon wonderment. You let Claire and Lucas get busy with making their own sandwiches and make your way towards the door. 

As promised, Kris did manage to get your son into the program a week before the registration closes for Spring Camp. He hasn’t failed in keeping you updated with the current changes and the ‘game plan’ he had in ensuring nobody figures out that Lucas is in fact the captain’s son despite their obvious resemblance. You’ve exchanged a couple of texts and he told you that you should be expecting Luke’s first ever hockey equipment, care of the Little Penguins within the day. 

And just like what has been instructed to you, a rather huge package welcomes your sight the moment you spring the front door open. 

“Thank you.” you politely say as you finish signing for the parcel. You let the courier help you with getting the equipment in before you finally close the door; reasoning a sound that might’ve been too inviting for a little boy who was now running to meet you in the living room. 

“You can at least put down the murder sandwich first, mister!” Claire runs after your son, practically stunned with the energy Luke’s exhibited in spite the lazy air in the afternoon. 

He comes to a halt quite hastily and decides to hear his godmother. He quietly gives his sandwich onto Claire for safekeeping before finally— if not, immediately, returning to his tracks. 

“Is that a hockey stick???” Luke squeals by the time he gets beside you. You answer him with a simple nod, running a hand over his hair in the process. 

You’ve informed your son that he was in fact finally quitting soccer. And while he was utterly thrilled with the good news, Luke didn’t really care for where and when he’d get to do it. The important thing for him is that he’d finally be able to do so. 

“Is it mine?” he asks, and you answer with a hum. 

You watch him take the junior hockey stick Kris had readily made with the help of the exact measurements you sent along his application form. He examines it in the most child-like manner, turning it almost every chance he gets as if the stick would miraculously light up with each twist and turn he’d make. 

“Wow.” Claire chimes in as she joins Luke’s appreciation of his first stick. 

“Fancy!” she says as the two of you share a subtle look, as if readying yourselves to whatever’s left for you to find inside the sealed package.

“Mkay. Do you wanna see what’s inside?” you catch his attention, pertaining to the box laying on the floor. 

“Kay!” He hugs the stick with his other arm and begins to help you rip the tape off the box that’s basically more than half of his size. 

“Wooow!” Lucas beams the moment his eyes land on the black bag that had the infamous Pittsburgh Penguins logo printed on it. It was a hard thing for you to watch but all that went obsolete with how bright of a smile Luke let loose the moment he got his hands on it. 

“It’s so big!” he meets your eyes as if asking if he could finally open it. 

“Go on, baby. You can.” you tell him albeit still half-heartedly. 

Luke must’ve sensed the uneasiness on your end with the indiscernible expression painted on his face. Knowing that he would be asking if you were all right, you promptly break a wide smile and say, “What are we waiting for huh? Come on, let’s open it!”

“Would you like me to hold that stick for you?” Claire asks when she notices him having a hard time maneuvering the heel of the stick that kept getting in the way. 

For a moment, Lucas stops trying to open the zipper of the bag and looks at her. 

“Yes, please. Thank you.” he politely says.

You see her flash you a meaningful smile as she takes the stick from her godson’s hand. 

Luke successfully slides down the zip, opening the bag for everyone in the room. 

One by one, Luke took his time taking out every piece of equipment he could find. It had his first helmet, his first shin, elbow, and shoulder pads along with his first gloves. It also had a brand new pair of skates, not that he still needed one being that he already had a pair hidden and tucked away somewhere you probably have forgotten about. 

That said, after all the unboxing he’s done, you’ve spent the entire time sitting beside him, watching him unfold your greatest fear with nothing but a gleeful smile never leaving his lips.

“Are you happy?” you can’t help but ask. 

Luke simply looks at you quite endearingly, almost as if he knew. Maybe he did. And maybe it was his way of silently thanking you for taking such great leaps for him. Nevertheless, he nods. “Uh-huh.” 

Quickly, Luke drops his hockey helmet just so he could wrap his arms around your neck, almost knocking the air off your lungs. 

“Thank you, mommy.” he says. 

You gently pull him closer for an embrace whilst you steal the chance to rub his back.

“You’re welcome, honey.” you say, your voice noticeably on the verge of breaking.

Sensing that you wouldn’t be able to keep it together on your own, Claire steps up and takes Lucas’ attention. You try and hold your breath, knowing that there’s only one thing left your son needs in order to complete his very first hockey fit. 

“Mom, look!” Luke erupts with joy as he cheers for the black jersey he was now waiving right to your face, all in a painfully enthusiastic manner. 

If you hadn’t been too caught up mustering all the strength you needed just so you would be able to keep it together for him, you would’ve noticed the way he was jumping up and down with undeniable glee.

“It’s a hockey jersey!!!” he continues to squeal, finding it hard to contain his skyrocketing emotion. 

Lucas looks at your best friend, who also happened to have been rendered mute by the sight of the mighty 87 standing in mockery beneath the famed household name of the Pittsburgh Penguins captain; high and gloriously printed in huge block letters at the back of your son’s jersey. 

“Oh wait, there’s something else!” he announces quite proudly, hugging the jersey to his chest whilst he manages to take it from the bag. 

He examines it for a while and when what he only recognized was the familiar letters that make up his name, Luke expectantly hands you the rubber-like material and asks, “Momma, could you read it, please?” 

Claire catches a glimpse of what was written on what seemed to be a pocket-sized bag tag for Luke’s equipment bag. In that moment, she knew that if she was fast enough to have read what was clearly written, the chances of you missing the words would be entirely unlikely.

Still with the jersey hugged tightly to his chest, Luke waits for you to read what was on his tag. 

“This bag,” you clear your throat, finding it hard to utter the next words. 

Nonetheless, you repeat. This time, as swift and fast as if you were ripping off a band-aid. 

“This bag belongs to Luke,” you gaze at your son and give him a tight-lipped smile before moving onto forcing yourself to continue.

“Crosby’s Little Penguin.” 

You nearly laughed upon hearing yourself say his name out loud. 

Crosby. 

It’s been ages since you’ve let yourself speak of the name that’s nearly, if not technically, already attached to your own. For six years you’ve barred his name from yours and your kid’s life, it already feels so alienating to even speak of it and that’s why you can’t stand the sight of your son holding it with so much passion and pride; totally oblivious to the heights of lows you’ve put yourself through in order to save him. 

“I’m Crosby’s Little Penguin!” Luke rejoices, devoid of whose name it was sitting on his tongue. 

And just like that, you sat there before him, unable to speak the truth. 

Yes, you are a Crosby.

The truth is, it wasn’t just the number that you’ve spent what felt like eternity wearing nor the name itself that made the gut-wrenching pain you’ve been feeling right from the moment Lucas held the stick tougher to stomach. What made it insanely difficult and completely impossible for you to swallow was having to witness the very same glint you’ve seen in Kris’ eyes a thousand times present in your son’s.

After all the years you’ve spent raising a kid on your own, not once have you caught the same glint his eyes had now. And it just torments you even more that it wasn’t you who caused that. 

How could he get all these so effortlessly when all he’s done was shut you and your son out? How could this be your fucking reward? 

God, you know you love your son with all your might but seeing him utterly unaware of what you had to go through for his sake pains you more than the pain of childbirth ever did. 

And boy, do you wish you could just cry right then and there and let hell break loose in front of your five-year-old boy and tell him that “Mommy’s not okay, honey. She never was.” but fuck it. ‘Cause you know why? you’re a parent now. You’ve got to suck it up. And despite all that, you know that mastering the art of numbing yourself and managing to put on a smile for your sweet little angel has got to be one of the most excruciating things about being Lucas’ mother.

“Y-Yes you are. That’s so cool!” your voice breaks amidst trying to fight the tears. But you know that the longer you stay, the harder it’s going to be. 

“Hey, bubs.” you clear your throat and gently reach to hold his hand. 

“Why don’t you and Auntie Claire try these on so we could take a picture. How does that sound?” you stir him to face Claire so he doesn’t see your now misty eyes. You see her just looking at you with deep concern but you manage to shrug it off and show your son your best smile. 

“Okay!” he giddily answers, devoid of how he’s unknowingly hurt his mother.

“All right, then. I’ll go get the camera.” you answer despite already walking out the living room with a hand over your mouth, stifling the impending breakdown as you head for the stairs.

𖥸

Later that night, you catch Claire’s figure coming in your direction, letting you know that your son’s finally tucked safe and sound in his bed. You have spent what seemed like hours holding the bag tag in your hand, absent-mindedly running your finger on Luke’s name just before it lands onto his. 

Seeing your son’s name alongside Sidney’s was probably the last thing you’ve imagined seeing since birthing Luke into the world. It felt strange not entirely because you’re angry or that you resent him. A part of you knows that you might have just possibly been emptied down to your very core that you couldn’t even shed a sliver of emotion for him. 

“We can always go to Europe if all this goes to shit. Switzerland’s got a lot of good schools.” Claire speaks, leaning against the counter.

She succeeds in getting your attention away from all of Luke’s hockey stuff laid neatly atop the breakfast table. You have treated each other like family for the longest time ever since the two of you met in college. And between her life at the hospital and her ever adorable godson, she’d gladly be with you and move across countries if she has to. 

You sigh as you toss the tag right back into the bag along with all the equipment Luke’s had unboxed earlier. 

“I just didn’t expect it to go this fast.” you honestly say, thinking about how things rapidly escalated in the weeks that’ve gone. “Between Kris seeing him and Luke wanting to play hockey, it’s almost as if he’s still got that hold on me, you know?”

Claire sighs and moves away from the counter so she could join you at the table. Once she’s seated, she fills the void with the sound of her pouring herself a cup of tea. Finally, she decides to rekindle a conversation you’ve had with her the moment you mentioned you were leaving Pittsburgh. 

“We both know he’s bound to find out sooner or later.” she says. “And once he does meet him, are you finally going to be okay with it?”

Sputtering, you answer with the truth. 

“I honestly don’t know.”

Claire sips on her tea, “So, what’s the plan?” 

“Lucas.” you simply reply. 

“It’ll always be Lucas.”

𖥸

For one thing, Kris’ ass got saved by the team’s hectic schedule for the month of April. He was honestly glad that the only thing he got to tell Sid was that it was something ‘important’ — well, something important that also happened to concern the former love of his life. 

So maybe he didn’t really do a good job saving his ass after all. 

The two of you agreed on using just Luke’s middle name for the program along with the help of Claire picking him up after sessions instead of you. It had certainly been a great help avoiding sparking unnecessary rumors that could potentially catch the media’s attention. 

You were worried about leaving your son alone at practices for it wasn’t something you’d originally agree upon but Kris assured you that he wouldn’t let Luke come in harm’s way. He was pretty confident with the ‘coach’ he’d contacted in order to give Lucas a more exclusive and yet subtle supervision he needs at practices despite not having you around. So now, for the past week and a half, your son has been successfully attending spring camp at the Pittsburgh Ice Arena as Lucas Patrick. Just Lucas Patrick. 

“Hell of a roadie, boys.” Bryan congratulates everyone one last time as they part ways at the parking lot. 

Jeff throws in a nod just before he gets in his car. “See you Thursday!” 

For the last two weeks of going on the road to New York, Boston, and New Jersey, the Penguins have been bagging wins securing a place as the leading team in the East Division. That said, Kris knew that even if Sidney wanted to ask what was so important about you that he needed to tell him, knowing his answer would just disrupt the captain’s momentum and would most certainly derail their way clinching a playoff berth. 

Kris had probably lost count of the times he caught Sidney looking at him in the locker room with such a meaningful gaze. One that he’d eventually break once Kris lets him test the waters. In all honesty, he was deeply invested in what Kris has got to say but it was something he’d never show. 

He wanted to know a lot. He wanted to know how you were doing; if you were fine and if you were still the same woman he and the gang knew from years back. He wanted to know if you actually got to live the life you wanted without him. But of all the things circling his mind, perhaps what he really wanted to ask Kris was if you still felt the same for him. 

No, he wasn’t even hoping to hear that you still love him or that he still has a chance to redeem himself and make up for all his wrongs. He’s had a hard time doing all that personally since you left so that would be the last thing he’d fully expect. He knew the painful fact that you wanted nothing to do with him anymore, let alone be at the same page as him back when your life with him was still grounded with so much certainty. 

He knew a lot of things from the time you’ve been apart however he can’t help but wonder as to whether you still hate him for what’s happened. That was surely the very thing he wanted to ask Kris. But was he ready to hear the answer?

“Where are you off to?” Kris asks as he opens his car door. 

Sidney replies with a shrug. “Gotta do a few errands then head home.”

“A’right. I’ll see you at Geno’s.” he gives him a nod, subtly reminding the captain about the brunch Anna’s invited them to the next day. 

Even if he makes it a point to stay in the zone in the most crucial times of the season, Sidney can’t help but feel relieved about not having to worry about work tomorrow. It wasn’t just because he’d get to see Geno, who happened to have missed a few games due to a minor injury, but tomorrow's brunch might finally be a good time to have a sit-down talk with Kris regarding his recent phone call. 

The plane that boarded the team arrived in Pittsburgh a little earlier than scheduled. Sidney didn’t have a lot to do for the day contrary to what he told Kris just a while back. What he wanted was mainly to have a day to himself. Perhaps finish the book he’d been reading. He knows that he needs time to gather all his thoughts and be as prepared as he’d need be regardless of what it was that Kris was going to tell him. 

As Sidney halts at a traffic light, his phone starts to ring, making the shrill sound of said device catch his attention.

He looks over to the passenger seat where it was safely placed, displaying Mike Sullivan’s caller ID. 

“What’s up, Mike?” he says once he’s turned the speaker on. 

On the other line, he assumes that the coach was on his way home as well. The two pillars of the team exchange their brief greetings before Sully proceeds to ask for his whereabouts. 

Sidney answers, “I’m on my way home.” 

To which Mike informs, “The Little Pens started their first session the other week. The coaches were wondering if you could make an appearance.” 

“Oh, yeah for sure! Thanks for reminding me. I’ve been meaning to drop by actually.” he states, stepping on the gas as the traffic light turns green. 

“I’ll come by today.” he adds.

“Great! I’ll tell them not to call anyone. I don’t want to make a fuss out of this.” 

“You read my mind.” Sid chuckles, switching lanes for him to turn as he now heads downtown.

“Are they still doing it at PIA?” he asks.

“Yup. Same old rink, kid.” Mike briefly confirms before finally proceeding to end the call. 

𖥸

The day’s lessons had already started by the time the Captain arrived at the Arena. He was still catching up with some old acquaintances and friends of his that he hadn’t seen in a while but the loud cheering and giggles of the kids were already within hearing distance. 

After a while, once Sidney gets in his skates and coaching suit, he’s led to the rink by the head of the coaching staff for the SCLP named Phil. Sidney wasn’t even on the ice yet but quite a few heads had already turned his direction, most were parents and guardians, acknowledging the Captain’s arrival.  

Once all the hi’s and hello’s were exchanged, Phil introduces Sidney to the team, telling them that he’d be joining them for the day. He was answered by warm and loud stick taps from his little penguins, most of which were undeniably thrilled to have him around for the day’s practice. 

“Are you really Sidney Crosby?” questioned one of the kids. 

The captain confirms with a smile. “I really am.” 

One of the things he’d missed when coming by to sessions like this were the children. Having started the initiative for fourteen seasons since 2008, Sidney still can’t grasp how much people embraced the program; what it meant for them and how it’s become one of the things kids in Pittsburgh look forward to each season. 

The ice was filled with various floor equipment used by the coaches to guide and walk the students through the number of routines they’ve prepared for the day. He’s spent the first hour observing the new batch of youngsters skating from one end of the rink to the other. Some were being taught ways to properly handle a puck, some were beginning to shoot, and some were being taught how to maneuver around opposing players which were represented by the black and white jerseys provided by the program. 

Of all the kids that stood almost above Sidney’s waist, his eyes caught on a certain little boy participating in a black jersey. He was about as tall as Geno’s son, Nikita, and perhaps that was one of the reasons said child sparked an unexpected curiosity on his end. He didn’t fully understand why but he was just drawn to him, as if there was something he needed to know. 

He skates towards their direction, his presence instantly acknowledged by the coach. 

“How’s everybody doing?” Sidney’s warm smile easily affects the instructor however not the kid. 

“Look, man! It’s the Captain!” his coach voices, letting Sid meet the little penguin. 

Puzzled as to what might possibly be going on with the situation, Sidney crouches down to formally introduce himself. 

“Hey, buddy.” he says, still wearing the same grin. He offers out his gloved covered hand out for the child to take as he told him his name. 

“My name’s Sidney Crosby.” he states.

He sees the child immerse himself in deep wonderment, thinking about the various times he’s heard the name ‘Crosby’.

For years he’d spent with children, Sidney got used to how they converse with adults like him. He loved every question they threw at him and he loved every moment he’d spent saying ‘yes’ each time they asked him if he was really the Pittsburgh Penguins Captain, Sidney Crosby. 

But of all the things he’s heard for the longest time he’d interacted with one, Sid was yet to hear such a different response to his name. 

The kid shot his head high, trying to look directly at him through the cage of his helmet. 

“Like Australia?” he curiously asks. 

Sid breaks a foolish laugh, finding his innocence impossible to resist. 

Sensing that it was the captain’s turn to assist the child, the coach modestly skates away so he could tend to another student. 

Sidney nods over to the instructor who just left before finally answering the query. “Yeah. I guess it is somehow like that.”

He watches the kid purse his lips as if thinking of a bold thing for a five-year-old to say. 

“You’re named after a city?” he questions, tilting his head whilst looking at the captain. 

He asks further, “What else do people call you?”

“Well, It’s actually Sidney with an ‘I’ instead of the ‘Y’ in Sydney. I think it actually means ‘wide meadow’.” he answers, wanting to widen the child’s unprompted knowledge of where names come from. 

He adds, “They call me Sid for short. Sometimes they call me Crozzer too, though I don’t really like that one.” 

“Why?” he muses. 

To which he replies with a shrug, “‘Cause it’s weird.”

With a rising tone in his voice, the child asks him yet another interesting question. 

“Like Sidney?” 

The captain laughs once again but sincerely nods, acknowledging the child’s naivety. 

“Yup. Like Sidney.” 

“What should I call you?” asked the little boy.

“Hm. That depends, buddy.” he says. “What about Crosby? Does Crosby sound weird too?”

The child thinks for a moment as if to test what the name ‘Crosby’ felt in his mouth. He proceeds to shake his head, answering with an articulated pop of the letter ‘p’, “Nope.” 

“Then it’s settled,” the captain tells him. 

With a rather proud grin, Sidney gives the kid his approval. “You can call me Crosby.” 

When what he only got as a response was his warm smile that very much reminded him of someone, Sidney couldn’t help but ask, “What about you? What’s your name?”

“Lucas,” he tells him and adds, “but my mom always calls me Luke.”

“Yeah?” he quietly utters, unsure why his name had a faint yet noticeable hold on him. Maybe it was because he hadn’t met a lot of Lucas’ nor Luke’s before. Or maybe it was just because the child’s eyes reminded him a lot of home. It was warm and light; as if to lure Sidney further in the pools of his curious mind. 

Was his unusual interest all that there is with this kid? He can’t help but wonder. 

“That’s actually a pretty awesome name you got there.” he tells him. “What do you want me to call you?” 

The child politely answers him with the usual child-like expression exuding off his face. 

“I guess you can call me Luke too.” he replies, mostly to himself rather than the old man crouched before him. Nevertheless, Luke gives him an approving nod. “You’re pretty cool.”

A sense of an overwhelming acceptance fills Sidney’s chest as he looks at the child with so much awe for someone he’s only met minutes ago. 

“I’m cool?” he asks, wanting to hear it another time. 

“Yeah!” Luke confirms, hugging his stick with both of his arms. 

𖥸

To say the least, Sidney had a blast. In fact, he nearly texted Mike just to express his gratitude for reminding him about the program. He hadn’t enjoyed a practice this much in years despite already adoring every kid that’s joined the Little Penguins. 

It would certainly be an overstatement if he’d let himself say it out loud but Sidney can’t even put into words how great of a kid Luke was both on and off the ice. The way he conversed with him felt as though he was actually talking to someone he already knew for a very long time. Having the chance to nurture him with what he knows about the sport was probably the highlight of his day. Luke was such a polite and well mannered child that he was nearly sure he’d thought about needing to reevaluate how he, as an adult, responded to people. The child was just so full of light, wit, and naivety all at the same time. 

He couldn’t comprehend how good of a parent it’s got to take in order to raise such a wonderful kid able to make a profound impact on every individual he gets to meet. He doesn’t usually get too attached to children for he always wants to set a boundary for their own sake, but he didn’t quite understand why he wanted to know more about this boy the longer the time he gets to spend with him. 

Sidney’s smile was practically still evident on his lips by the time he got out of the dressing room wearing his former clothing. He’d successfully bid his thanks and goodbyes to the staff for the productive day the program had. If someone would’ve asked him, today’s definitely going to be something he’d remember for quite some time. Perhaps, something he’d even tell his sister about. 

As he strides along the hall, Sidney is halted on his tracks once he spots a familiar figure of a child, peacefully sipping on a blue slushy with the cup a bit too large for him to need to hold it with both of his small hands. 

“Luke?” he calls, now treading towards where the kid was seated.

Luke gazes at his frame, looking at the man holding nothing but the keys to his car. He gives him a tight-lipped smile whilst he swings his feet from his seat, still unable to touch the ground. 

“Hey, Sid.” he greets him.

“What are you still doing here? Everyone’s gone home, kid.” he asks, voice laced with concern as to why a guardian would let a child as small as him sit in a quiet hall alone.

Luke didn’t seem to mind that he was as he said, “I’m waiting for my Aunt.” 

“Well, Alright.” he tells him, convinced that he had nothing to worry about. However, Sidney still takes his chance to keep the child company for his own peace of mind. “May I sit with you?” 

“You may.” Luke scoots over to the side, inviting his new friend to sit beside him. 

“So,” Sid ponders. “Do you always wait out here for your Aunt?”

The kid nods for it has been quite a routine for him since he started the program. “Yep.” he replies.

“What about your mom?” Sidney wonders and further asks, admittedly not a fan of how his mother shapes the sense of independence out of him at such a young age.

He further asks, “Does she not pick you up?”

Luke shakes his head. “But she drove me here earlier.”

“Alright. Let’s just wait for your Aunt then.” he quietly utters, not wanting to get on a wrong foot for finding Luke’s situation a bit odd for a boy his age. 

“Why?” the kid shoots a question. “Is your mom not picking you up too?” 

“Hm. No, but only because she said I can now manage by myself,” he tells him, stifling his chuckles. “which you can too once you’re older.” 

As the two wait for Luke’s guardian, Sidney takes a good glance at him, admiring how well-behaved he was for a five-year-old child. 

“I just wanted to talk to you some more.” and make sure you’re gonna get home safe. He thinks to himself. 

“Is that cool with you?” he asks. 

Lucas looks up at him and flashes his now blue tinted lip from the time he’d spent sipping on his cold drink. 

“Uh-huh.”

The two boys have spent almost an hour talking about the most mundane things. Sidney happily entertained most of Luke’s questions. Some were about hockey, and some were about whether he’d thought about changing his name, and how he thought Mike would always be a best fit for him. 

He also learned a few notable things from the kid. Luke told Sidney that he’s an only child but that he secretly wants to have a sibling someday; something he made him promise never to tell his mom. He told him that he was born on January 6th in the year 2016, and how his mom told him that it rained that day that’s why the rain often reminds her of him ever since. 

The Captain didn’t have much of a chance talking because he mainly didn’t want to. And that he chose not to. He felt this weird sense of fulfillment — a connection even, as he sat there listening to the child’s endless stories about him, his mom, and a few of his former soccer buddies. He was in total admiration of how Luke voiced out his thoughts into the world with so much sensitivity and innocence for a person as little as him.

Sidney can’t help but think that if things only worked out the way they were intended to be, and if he happened to have had the courage and maturity his 33 year-old self has now, Luke would probably be the personification of what he wished his child would become. But then again, how could he have the guts to say such things knowing that he did have a shot at that bit of his now all too mediocre life. Perhaps, the reason behind why he unknowingly stopped coming by to practices of the very initiative he established— was this: Kids that are inherently amazing as the one sitting in total serenity beside him. 

Maybe that’s how it’s going to be for him. Maybe the only thing he’s going to have is the sliver of joy pathetically spared for him in moments that he’d only remember. And maybe that is the awful price he’s going to pay and the cross that he’d have to shoulder on his back for all of his remaining days. 

You had a shot at this and you know it. Sidney can't help but think to his pathetic self. 

He’s made countless mistakes in the years that’ve gone by that he couldn’t help but feel glad that the heavens deemed him unworthy of having someone as good and pure as Lucas for a son. 

The two of them were in the middle of discussing how Sidney would have to ask his friends to bring their kids and play with the Little Penguins the next time he comes by when Sid happened to catch a glimpse of a rather familiar figure passing by at the end of the hallway.

Instantly, as Sidney feels his chest tightens at the familiarity of who he could’ve possibly seen, Luke shifts towards his direction; already handing him his almost empty drink. 

“Hold, please. Thank you.” was the last thing the child said before he came storming off across the room, shouting for the only name Sid had never expected him to call for. 

“Mom!”

You were undoubtedly guilty for letting your son walk in and out of that arena for almost two weeks, motherless. 

It was something that Lucas didn’t mind but you did. Not just because your son still doesn’t have the full knowledge of what was going on but mainly because you know that you weren’t just doing it for his sake just like what you’ve been telling yourself lately. You didn’t want to step on an environment that reminded you too much of him and that alone made you selfish. Selfish enough to let your child feel as though you weren’t really there to support him. You’ve always promised yourself that you will never become an absent parent but here you were, letting your son do the thing that he’s clearly fond of in total solitude. 

Claire instructed you to pick up Luke at the exact time she does, which was once the rink is empty and most parents have already gone with their children. The only thing you knew was how safe it was for Luke to have his godmother pick him up rather than his mother. 

Nevertheless, Kris had informed the program’s staff regarding Luke’s special case without sparing the even more complicated details. He told Phil that he was a child that needed special protection especially off the ice. It was certainly a relief to have Kris deal with all the technicalities of ensuring Lucas will remain unseen even in plain sight. 

As you step through the sliding doors of the entrance, you see a sign leading to where the rink was. You didn’t have a hard time passing by people for most of them have probably forgotten about you. You asked one of the staff where you could find the head coach responsible for the day’s session and they gladly pointed you towards a door you’d find upon passing by two hallways on your left. 

It was a bit of a work following the very vague direction you got considering that you haven’t been to the arena because the program back then was conducted in various smaller rinks around the city. Clearly, a lot has changed despite the short amount of years you’ve spent away from the team.

You pass by the first hallway and are treading towards the final one when you hear a small yet distinctly familiar voice that you happened to have already fallen for even when he was yet to utter his first words. 

“Mom!”

As if on cue, your little boy bursts out into the main hall with his ever adorable wide smile and eyes that effortlessly shines whenever it looked at you.

“Hey, you!” you walk towards him mirroring the smile on his face. 

Instinctively, your hand finds its way to pull him closer to you just before you fix up his always so stubborn hair. You were honestly a little alarmed by how ‘blue’ his lips were. Figuring that it might be the reason behind his intense sugar-high every time Claire drops him off after practice. However, for argument’s sake, you choose not to mind it for the meantime and just deal with having to tire a sugar-induced kid for later. 

“Missed me?” you asked as you met his eyes. 

Your son only answers you with a series of emphasized nods.

“Where’s Auntie Claire?” he questions with his cute eyebrows knitting together. 

In all honesty, your guilt only grew tenfold as you looked at him searching for someone that wasn’t you. You counter as your face melts into a sad one, albeit a bit more dramatically as you try to sell your cause.

“She had to work, my love.” you pout. “Why? Don’t you like Mom picking you up?”

Luke takes both his hands on your cheek and tries to ease out all your sad lines earnestly as if it was the last thing he wanted to see.

He refutes, “I like it!”

“Good.” you return a smile, already feeling a lot better than you were previously in your car. 

“Ready to go home?” you ask as you hold his hand.

“In a minute.” he states. “I want you to meet my new friend!” 

Amused by what he told you, you happily showered him with your enthusiasm. 

You cheer, “Oh, you’re making friends already? Wow. That’s great, baby. I’d love to meet them.” 

“What’s their name?” you further ask, standing up to meet this new friend he’d been talking about.

Luke smiles widely and looks back to where he was seated just a while back. You gladly followed your son, blinded by the thought of just meeting yet another child. 

However, as achingly agonizing fate has been for you, Luke points towards the direction of a man standing a few feet from where you were, with a blue slushy resting in his hand. He was stoned to the ground as much as you were the moment you meet the same coffee colored irises identical to your son’s. 

Sure enough, once you see the understanding now inkling in his eyes, you know that all the inevitabilities you’re clearly still not ready for have already happened right on the palm of your hands.

Lucas looks at the two of you, devoid of what’s become of him as he stands between the only parent he’s known and a man he just happened to have met hours ago. 

As he maintains to hold your hand all whilst reaching for his friend’s with the other, Claire’s voice was what circled your now empty mind. 

And once he does meet him, are you finally going to be okay with it? 

Finally, Lucas, the light of your life and the reason for your being, wills all his energy into speaking the very last name you’d ever want to escape his lips,

“Sidney Crosby! Isn’t that cool?”

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[barzzal]

call me crosby → part three

summary: Young, reckless, and rash, an unplanned pregnancy causes a massive rift in your relationship with then, cup-hungry 27 year-old Sidney Crosby. As he gets caught up in his own childish and selfish ways, confused to what was once certain, he lets you struggle alone. His absence reasons a miscarriage scare that leads you to end the relationship. Years after losing you, having to live a life that’s surrounded with the families his friends have built through the years embodies his greatest regret. Now with three cups and tons of awards at his disposal, Sid is given a chance to right his wrongs and win what was once the biggest loss of his life.

pairing: sidney crosby x fem!reader gen. warnings: language and theme, co-parenting, mentions of pregnancy & false miscarriage, sexual/suggestive themes, 18+  ch. warnings: issues, grudges, and resentment buried for years part 2 lol + easter eggs <3 genre: hockey rpf, fluff, angst, smut, kid-fic, exes to lovers length: series; 7.4k masterlist: the barn, series masterlist track: sidney’s theme; to build a home by tco, to let a good thing die, on our own by bm, gone gone gone by honne

note: HAPPY 34TH BIRTHDAY TO ONE FINE ASS CAPTAIN!! figuratively and literally iykyk i wish that he continue to age like fine wine and get hotter than the sun so i could get all the vitamin D i need :p happy reading hope you like it!! <3 (gif used: mine)

disclaimer: this is a work of fiction. teasers, interviews, events, and the like that are included in the series are purely made for fictional purposes and do not/should not represent any of the names involved in real life. please proceed with caution.

Sidney loved kids. He always had. In fact, the work he has poured not only to his Little Penguins initiative but also to the hockey school he’s built back home could attest to that. 

He had a lot of compassion and love to give to every child that wanted it. It just so happened that Sidney didn’t feel the same way for when he had his own. Or at least he thought that way until it was too late.

Call him what you will. Hypocrite, a scum, hell even a damned narcissist. His actions then were enough to justify what you must have felt for him as you cried yourself to sleep on that cold hospital bed. But he can’t do much about what’s already been done, can he? The only thing he could do, albeit farfetched in its very nature, was to wish — to hope that you’d find it in yourself to forgive him. 

Arguing that he was just scared at the time would probably be his lamest resort. However, to tell you the truth, he really was. He was scared of many things. Most of which concerned himself more than you. Perhaps, that was one of his biggest mistakes. 

If the Athletic were to ask him of his greatest regrets, he would’ve probably answered something that concerned the game of hockey. Probably an awful game that involved a heated scrum against Claude Giroux; causing them a series against Philly. Maybe it would be one of the petty fights he’s had against the Capitals. Or that one time he totally lost it and threw a tantrum on his post-game interview. 

Clearly, he’s had a lot of share in that department. Specifically when he was young, stupid, and mind numbingly selfish to the things he only wanted. However, he’d only be fooling no one but himself if those aforementioned were the ones to be jotted on the books for the Captain knows that those were far from being true. 

Regret is such a strong word for Sidney. Sometimes it’s just about regretting eating out instead of cooking at home. Sometimes it’s about having a little too much to drink. Sometimes it’s letting said regrets get a better hold on him. And sometimes, if not most times for the last six years, it’s having to lose a woman once — only to lose her once again as he held the hand of a five-year-old boy who might potentially be more than just a five-year-old boy. 

You weren’t the only one who wanted to forget what happened that night. You weren’t the only one who has spent a great amount of time shutting everything out into the void just so days would be a lot quicker and nights a lot easier to bear.

Sidney did all that too.

But fate, no matter how hard it is to believe, hasn’t been as kind to him as it was to you. You might have lost him in the way but you had Luke. No matter how tiring and challenging things got, your son remained the constant thing that kept you whole and grounded. He became your piece of silver lining amidst the chaos that is life. 

Sidney didn’t have all that. What he only had were things he thought were far more important than the life you were so willing to build with him. He wanted to get another cup before he turned thirty and so that’s why he got two. Not to mention the years that embodied all his successes, the awards that speak nothing but of his excellence, and the outstanding accomplishments that defined who he was not just for himself but for the entire National Hockey League. 

See, what Sidney had were these tangible things that only seemed so appealing at the time. But now, for each time he sat in his leather chair back in Nova Scotia trying to admire everything he’s built and done, he felt empty. It was as if the cups and the awards he’d spent years chasing became his painful reality mocking him for the very thing he missed all these years. 

Who knew the callous decisions he had made would do this much damage? 

Losing you wasn’t entirely what broke Sidney that night despite what he told Kris and Geno. Losing you was still tough nonetheless for it was still a hard pill for him to swallow. However, losing the baby broke Sidney more than he’s likely to admit. He didn’t fully understand why but the moment he was told that the baby was gone, Sidney knew a part of him died too. 

The captain missed the Malkins’ brunch for he was headed somewhere else. 

He was beyond speechless by the time you introduced yourself and reached out just as you offered to shake his hand. Actions he knew were for the benefit of the child who happened to be looking at the two of you with nothing but hopeful doe eyes.

To say the least, neither you nor Sidney were in the right mind to acknowledge the unforeseen. Sidney stood still the entire time as you tried to remain composed in front of Lucas. As much as you wanted to ignore the fact that your greatest fear is already standing right in front of your own eyes, you knew that failing and frankly, refusing to act right at the expense of your son, would do more damage than the damage that’s already been done. 

Nevertheless, for as long as Luke was holding your hand, you know you’re going to be just fine.

“Hello, Sidney.” you said with a tight-lipped smile never reaching your eyes. “It’s very nice to meet you.”

Everybody knew he was a man who’s always had a way with words. He always knew what to say even at times most people in the league won’t. He’s never failed to outwit journalists and critics and that alone made his life even more interesting to decipher. But, of all the years he’d spent dodging every comment and every question with an answer that’s just enough to suffice, Sidney had a hard time uttering back a simple “Hi.”

The touch of your hands was undoubtedly forced and unwanted on your end contrary to Sidney’s. It was firm and quick, like the kind he gives half-heartedly. It was clear that you wanted no time wasted to have him close to you like that. His touch burned just the same. Reminding you of the very reason that made you want to leave Pittsburgh. And you hated yourself because you know that no matter how much you deny, — for a moment, a faint second, you almost let yourself give in and linger.

𖥸

After learning that Claire was Lucas’ acting guardian for the program Kris happened to be responsible for arranging, Sidney knew that any argument with him would be pointless. 

He didn’t have the luxury of time to hold any grudge against him because he knew what he did was what he thought was right. Kris never really acted rashly considering the years he’s known him and Sidney trusts him enough for the calls he willfully made for his sake. However now, Sid knew it was time for him to deal no one else’s cards but his own. 

As he walked through the halls of the very same hospital that held the memory he’s longed to forget, Sidney’s strides were filled with weariness as to what could possibly await him. Nevertheless, despite the fears he’s long buried, he walked the pearl white floors with one purpose and one purpose alone. 

“If it’s not too much to ask,” he says, voice muted than usual as he hid under the disguise of a mere blackout Steelers cap.

He succeeds in getting the nurse’s attention. A woman that was approximately in her early twenties, her hair neatly dressed and twisted into a bun. She appears to be clearly stunned at the sight of the Penguins Captain waiting in the hospital lounge. She gives him a welcoming smile all the while Sidney silently hoped that she wouldn’t make a fuss out of the situation at hand. 

Sidney politely returns it and proceeds. “I know you have a lot more important things to tend to, but I was wondering if Dr. Lewis, Dr. Claire Lewis is around?”

Her grin grows wider, welcoming Sidney’s presence in the room. 

“Oh, I’d be happy to be of help, Mr. Crosby.” she says. To Sidney’s relief, the nurse remained composed and continued to give him the instructions he needed instead. “I will be connecting you to her medical assistant and they will be the one to assist you today.”

He nods, “Thank you. Appreciate it.”

It had been years since the last time he was in the confines of the hospital, but the walk through the particular hall the nurse ushered him to was just the same as he remembers.

The walk was quick, mainly because of the adrenaline boiling inside him. He knew that you’d never talk to him, much more hear whatever he’s got to say but he also knows that he needs to be heard. And if he’s not going to get answers from you, he’d gladly risk facing the last person who would ever want to see him. 

“Dr. Lewis,” the nurse calls the moment she swings the door agape. “I have Mr. Crosby for you.”

Claire knew the risks as much as you did. She knew a lot of things and she knows you did too. You know that she didn’t like Sidney just like she wasn’t fond of the life you had to put up with in exchange for loving someone that’s rarely even there. Claire loved and treated you like a sister, and that’s why it wasn’t just your heart that was broken by Sidney that night. He broke hers too. Maybe even earlier. 

The last time Sidney saw her was back when she was in her final year of residency. She didn’t change much, apart from the fancier titles now attached to her name. She was the same as what he remembers.

Claire still had the same stance, the same way of carrying herself — managing to stand up from the rest. Only now, despite already expecting every hurtful thing he’s wrongfully done thrown back at him mercilessly, what he only got was the same look she had for him from years back. 

“Kris told me.” he simply says once the door closed behind him.

He finds no reason to spare even the slightest bit of formalities after not having seen each other for quite a long time. He decides to be upfront about his intention in spite of ignoring how ashamed he was of himself before her gaze. Claire apparently still has that effect on him. One that makes him feel so small and inadequate, so unworthy of having her best friend.

“Well, hello to you too.” she returns, eyes far more distant than he remembers. “It’s been a long time, Sidney.”

“Is it true?” he asks, voice deep as it’s embraced by the overwhelming weight put upon what he’d seen and what Kris has told him. 

She looks at him as if he was some pathetic little dog, lost and in desperate search of a home. Sidney watches her say nothing as she calmly sits in her white velvet chair. She looks up at him and manages to make him feel even smaller than he already did. 

Claire was the first person you called as soon as you got home from the Arena. You’ve honestly been working on having to deal with Sidney the night Lucas got his first hockey equipment.

You know that it would be the hardest decision you’d have to make in a while, pretty much like the time you’ve decided to leave and end things with him. The only difference now was letting him back in it.

Still, with the same eagerness coursing through his veins, Sidney takes a deep breath and proceeds to question. “Did you or did you not lie to me that night I asked you about the baby?” 

“Answer me.” he orders amidst the mockery exuding off Claire’s demeanor. 

“Why?” she asks with her head faintly tilted; an addition to her taunting remark masked in a supposedly genuine query. “You weren’t my patient.” 

Sidney says nothing for he knows that it’s the truth. As your doctor, Claire had to relay unbiased decisions that have now defined everyone’s life involved at the time. Despite knowing that fact, Sidney seemed to be too determined not to leave the corners of the room with his quotes unanswered to even shed an ounce of care about all of Claire’s tedious intimidation. 

“As you are now.” she continues at the sight of him standing his ground. “So, I suggest you go home because I have a lot of work to do.” she says, proceeding to take one of the folders resting atop her desk.

Sidney takes a step closer, stopping just a few meters from her. The gold plaque holding Claire’s name stares back at him rather proudly, speaking of her own accomplishments in her stead.

Dr. Claire Lewis M.D. Obstetrics & Gynecology Gynecology Oncology

“I saw her,” he tells her. “And god, I hope I am wrong with what I saw so please tell me. Did you lie to me?”

He watches her fold her arms to her chest after getting rid of the paper work she’d just gotten her hands on. 

“I never lied to you.” she firmly states. “I simply respected what my patient asked of me.” 

As your friend, Claire wanted nothing else but to protect you and to make sure that all decisions made are for the benefit and safety of you and your five-year-old boy. Keeping Sidney and everyone else at bay would certainly be riskier given how powerful of a man Lucas’ father happens to be. You and Claire have a full knowledge of what he’s capable of doing and you can only do so much to acknowledge that. You know that you need to use every card you can hold against him. And that alone makes your risks a lot more manageable than Sidney’s.

Having Sidney in the dark meant living a life that’s safe for you but certainly not for your son. Considering now that Luke’s been showing interest in the things that would just make him even more connected to his father. You are aware that it’s not just your decision to make despite what the law dictates. Having the sole right to your child also meant having to give him a shot at the life he’s about to have with his dad. And if Sidney turns out to really want to be a part of that life he once turned his back to, you know you’d have just the right amount of ammunition to back yourself from the pain it’s going to cause you.

“Oh for fuck’s sake, Claire!” Sidney bellows. “Did you honestly think I’m that stupid?” 

“No. Not at all. I don’t think you’re stupid.” she deadpans with a mocking grin, fueling more of Sidney’s inkling frustration.

She retains her demeanor and looks at the captain, continuing her cause with nothing but a firm conviction. “Irresponsible? Arrogant? And full of yourself? That I do.”

“I just need an answer,” he begs, voice nearly cracking. “please.”

“If you went through all the trouble just to see me here and confirm what you saw when you already had the chance to ask her,” she reasons. “I don’t think you deserve an answer.”

It was a hard thing taking every word Claire threw at him because he knows she only spoke of the truth. Claire was a lot of things but a bad friend and a bad doctor. He knows she did more than enough of what she could do just to ensure that you’d be safe and far from harm’s way. Frankly, Sidney also knew he didn’t exactly have the right to resent her for he knows he did so much worse.

Sidney was on the verge of begging on his knees when a series of continuous knocks broke the eerie standoff between the him and Claire. 

A man, approximately at the same age range as Sidney, peaks through the door holding a medical clipboard, voice of virile sound drowning the tensed air as he invites himself in. His brown hair was dashingly pushed back just enough to accentuate his well kept stubble. His white coat draped pleasingly on his body, evident of the bulging ripples underneath. 

“Lewis, mind if you take a look at—” his hazel eyes meets Sidney’s, startled to find himself interrupting what seemed like a very important discussion. “Oh. I’m sorry. I didn’t know you had company.”

Claire breaks a warm smile in an effort to ease out the existing tension. “It’s fine. He was just leaving.”

Claire’s colleague must have noticed who the man really was underneath the baseball cap. He lets himself get closer just so he could get a better peak. And once the image of the Pittsburgh Penguins captain finally registers before his eyes, a rather amused look instantly creeps on his face, stunned to be seeing an NHL superstar on such an ordinary day. 

“I- I don’t mean to sound unprofessional,” he says, directed mostly to Claire than to Sidney. His gaze flickers between the two of them just as he finally gets enough courage to get past his starstruck state. 

He breathes, “but holy shit, you’re Sidney Crosby.”

Claire immediately rolls her eyes, appalled at witnessing yet another reason why she hated Sidney’s guts.

“Dean,” she subtly warns as she calls his name, diverting his attention away from the famed athlete. 

Dean excuses himself, gesturing with his free hand once he’s acknowledged what Claire meant when she called him. “No, yeah– you’re right. I’ll shut up now.” he says, pressing his lips together, mindful of who was standing in front of him. 

“Uh, it’s no big deal.” the captain interferes, sparing Claire a meaningful look. “I probably should get going.”

Sidney turns onto the fairly tall man standing before him and begins bidding his goodbyes. “It was nice meeting you, Dean.” he says just as he thread his way towards the door. 

Dean sheepishly smiles, amused to how Sidney acted around him. “My pleasure, Mr. Crosby.” he replies.

As the door swung open, finally pulling Sidney out of her office, Luke was all she could see at the sight of his father leaving. She knows that it would have to take a lot of possibilities for him to bail out the second time, but Claire just simply couldn’t live with the fact of being the one who might have potentially caused that. 

“Sid,” she calls, halting him on his tracks. He looked back at her shortly as he held the cold metal knob in his hand. 

“I’ll tell her you stopped by.” Claire sighs, meeting his gaze with eyes that bear a silent answer. And at that moment, Sidney understood. 

“Don’t make me regret it.”

𖥸

The only person who’s been getting a good night’s sleep was Lucas. You’ve probably spent a good amount of hours sitting in the bean bag chair in his room just looking at him peacefully asleep; oblivious of the chaos that’s about to befall your little family. 

A part of you expected to hear from Sidney right from the moment he saw you downtown. However, just like old times, his job demanded a lot from him and kept him away for yet another week. You were aware that the team was in the middle of the season as they were closing into playoffs. 

Yes, you were disappointed. However not at Sidney but at yourself. You were disappointed because of all the pain you’ve gone through loving Sidney Crosby, you still understood. It was as if understanding Sidney’s job was some knee-jerk reaction he’d effortlessly get from you. 

Time was painfully slow just as fast as it approached. The first few days of waiting for Kris’ phone call was something you definitely dreaded. You were nervous of what awaits you once they get back from the road, considering the little visit Claire has mentioned. As much as you hated still knowing it, Sidney’s not one to act so rashly, perhaps that’s why you needn’t ask further questions to your best friend because what he did was clearly just in his nature. 

You take that he didn’t want to see you unprepared just like what happened the first time. The look he had on his face as he held onto that empty cup was clear evidence that he still wasn’t a fan of huge surprises. That being said, you wanted the same thing for yourself. You know that he’d do everything just to get on your good graces and win your mercy back all for the sake of meeting his son. Your son. And that is something you wouldn’t hand him that easy. What he did years back couldn’t be erased by efforts done with a best foot forward. 

In spite of having to make sure you already had everything in check, you were utterly relieved that the phone call didn’t come until a couple of days ago. The news certainly came in as a shock and a fair amount of time would surely be needed by both parties. You needed to give yourselves some time to cool off just so you’d be able to process and think of the matter at hand through the lens of each other’s perspectives. 

Kris’ lens, however, had a different standpoint. The team was scheduled to play two road games in Washington and five remaining ones at home before they could clinch a playoff berth. 

It’s safe to say that the captain isn’t entirely present in the span of playing against the Flyers. He wasn’t producing as much as he needed and that only made him even more frustrated. Kris wasn’t really a fan of a frustrated Sidney. One way or another, he knows that he needs to settle things with you. He didn’t want to sound selfish but just knowing that the captain might really have a son, had been doing a lot more damage than Kris had originally anticipated. 

Sidney was thrown off his game to say the least. The thought of you and Lucas existing for the last six years without him has been an unbearable narrative he just can’t let go unnoticed. You had the right to every call you’ve made right from the moment he went away. Making you remember the decisions you’ve made because of his disappointing absence, both as a partner and as a father to his unborn child, weren’t exactly what Sidney had been hoping to discuss. He had a lot to prove and so that’s what he’s determined to do. 

He knows he screwed up badly. That what you had with him was already shattered beyond repair. That as much as he wants to win you back, he knows that all he could do now is to show you that he’s worthy of being a father to your son. 

It would be hypocritical for him to deny that he didn’t want the child the first time he knew about him, however Sidney was also aware that he’d just keep going on cyclical patterns if he wouldn’t admit that losing the kid he thought he’d never want stung him to this very day.

A few faint knocks on your car window pulls you from your trance. You let out a sigh of relief upon seeing Kris’ squinted eyes underneath the harsh sun. You have been sitting in your car for about ten minutes, debating against yourself as you channel just enough courage to finally face what you’ve profusely ran away from in the last six years. 

“Hey.” Kris greets you with the same cheeky smile once you step out of the vehicle.

“How are you feeling?”

Honestly? You feel like you’re about to shit yourself. But that’s not something Kris needed to know. Nonetheless, you shrug, basking in the comfort of having him around. “Nervous.”

“That’s all right.” He gives you a reassuring smile. “Just remember, all for Luke.”

You nod in appreciation of such a kind gesture. You return his smile just as you let him lead the way.

You had to arrange your meeting with Sidney at the most convenient time for you. You had to take a day off and ensure that Luke was going to be at pre-school for the time being. Juggling your responsibilities at once has never been an easy task therefore the inconvenience Sidney’s caused you should definitely be worth its work. At least that’s what he better show you. 

All that Sidney could do was wait. In fact, he was relieved when Kris informed him that you’ve finally agreed to meet him. He’d arranged a private room at one of the places he’s a regular at just to ensure that this particular business venture of his would be treated with discreet and utmost confidentiality. All the minor strings he managed to pull put aside, Sidney didn’t really mind where you met for as long as he got to see you. 

You take a final deep breath as Kris pushes a lone black door open. The ambiance had a rustic feel to it amidst the fairly generous lighting. A total compliment to Sidney’s type. It seemed like the years that’ve gone don’t really matter much to a person you’ve known for a very long time.

There, as you enter the room, awaits a man wearing a black dress shirt that suited him in far too many unexplainable ways, reasoning about a handful of unsought memories you thought you’ve already buried and forgotten about.

The last thing you’d want is to crumble before him. He wasn’t the man you once fell in love with. You know he stopped being that man the first time he found out about your son. And that’s how you plan to see him for as long as need be.

Sidney’s head perks up the moment he catches Kris entering the room. His heart, just like it always had, was beating frantically the moment he saw you.

It may have been a while, but good god, you were exactly like how he remembered. But were you still the same woman he’s only loved for so long? He’s about to find out. 

“Hi.” was the first word that managed to escape his lips after six whole years. 

When he doesn’t hear a word from you and rather receives just the stern look on your face, he decides to acknowledge Kris with a nod and say, “Please, have a seat.”

Once you’re seated, Kris sheepishly takes the head seat of the vast dining table, as if to act as a buffer between you and your former lover. 

Kris and Sid exchanged a few quick glances whilst you fish a couple of things from your briefcase. Once he’s come to an understanding of what Sid meant, Kris offers a considerate nod and lets him take the succeeding course of action. 

With clasped hands, thinking of your benefit than neither of them, Sidney looks at Kris and requests, “Tanger, would you mind giving us some privacy?”

What Sidney had just said stopped you from what you were doing, finding the urgency to step in and make sure Kris never leaves you alone with Sidney.

“No.” you tell him with a straight face. “I need him here.” 

Sensing Sidney’s impending contradiction, you decide to move forward with your cause. The real reason why the two of you had to meet in the first place. 

“In the event that you can’t stay true to your words, I need Kris as a witness.” you simply inform him as if the magnitude of the matter at hand wasn’t that much of a weight on your end — that it was just some work you needed to cross out for the day.

Nevertheless, despite what Sidney thinks, he still counters and stands by his pure intentions. “No, but I am going to be around, y/n. I want to be around.” 

You proceed to ignore the firsts of the many promises you know he’d eventually break and decide to continue instead.

You’ve been a fool far too many times and being one right before the eyes of your child wasn’t something you’d want Luke to remember you by. 

“When that happens, I shall remain in full custody of my son and you shall not bear any parental rights nor are you going to be known as his father. You are to remain as a mere biological entity limited only to what the law governs.” you say with utmost certainty, rendering both men speechless.

“I’m not cruel enough to constrict you with contracts, so we will have to go through this with a verbal agreement instead. I assume that neither of us would have the time to deal with dreary court procedures if this doesn’t pan out as expected, wouldn’t we?”

You clearly had the table all to yourself for neither Sidney nor Kris wanted to butt in. You began spreading a number of documents purposely laid forth for Sidney’s perusal.

Kris only looks at him dumbfounded for he didn’t expect it himself. The both of them knew you were damn good at your job and that’s mainly why it came as a surprise when they’ve become the one on the receiving end of a daunting Y/N Y/L/N. 

“Here are the necessary documents that could testify that you’re Lucas’ biological father.” you state, finding no need to sugarcoat any of what he needs to hear. “Medical documents, initial and latter; including your paternity test, Luke’s medical reports from birth up to the recent ones, and my written consent to have Claire as Luke’s guardian for the SCLP program.” you dictate just as you go over every file that he needs to see.

“These aren’t necessary,” he finds a hard time to speak as he was still trying to digest everything you’ve managed to throw at him for the last couple of minutes. Sidney’s hands eventually find their way to one of the papers you’ve laid exclusively for him.

“And yet you’re holding that one.” you snide at the sight of him holding the results of his paternity test.

“Of course, it’s necessary.” you bite.

You hand Sidney a pen, without bothering for a response. “I need your signature on every document, declaring that you’ve been presented with sufficient factual data.”

If there was one thing Sidney was wrong about for the day, it would be how he felt the first time he saw you. He was wrong. You weren’t exactly how he remembered.

You were distant, restrained, and guarded. Total opposite of the woman he knew. He looked right into you and saw nothing. Not even a slightest bit of the woman who used to love him. You looked so put together and so sure of yourself that every head in the room would spare seconds just so they could look at you. That was certainly something Sidney didn’t doubt.

He can’t help but stare back into your eyes as you flood him with all these overwhelming legal facts just to intimidate him, make sure he knows where to stand his ground. He looked at you and saw lines pretty much like the ones he already has. But beyond all that, he saw your eyes tired as if it seemed like you could use some sleep. Clearly, the years you’ve spent raising a child alone toughened you as you dealt with the risks he was too afraid to take. 

And perhaps, for the first time, Sidney really understood why you wanted to leave.

“Do you have any questions?” you coldly ask the moment he’s done signing the papers. You gather it all in your hand and proceed to neatly place it back into the briefcase.

Sidney takes a good look at you as he tries to piece out what you had going on in your mind. But just as he anticipated, he had nothing. So, instead he settles with the only thing he wanted to know. 

“How have you been?” he asks, voice sitting on the thin gray line parting his brutal melancholy and painful longing.

All that Sidney hoped was to hear that you’re fine. That you’re well and keeping healthy. Of all the things he wanted to know apart from his son, were the bits of life he left you no choice but to build alone.

He needed to know that you were fine; maybe then he could finally live with the fact of not having you around. 

As you feel a soft pang inkling in your chest, you manage to tell him, “I’ve been well.” 

Said feeling was something you immediately shake off and throw out the window. Being vulnerable around him would undoubtedly be worse than letting Lucas meet his father. You’ve managed to make your peace with him as your son’s dad and you’re going to make sure it ends with that.

Before Sidney’s soft gaze even made you feel things you’ve longed vowed never to feel again, you seize it as a chance to lay another one of your cards. 

“I also have a few requests apart from those we’ve already covered.” you tell him. 

Sidney fixes his posture and awaits what you’ve got to say with a nod, silently telling you he’d fully oblige to every thing you’re going to ask of him.  

“Do I have to weigh in on this? I might have one, we’ll never know.” Kris chimes in, trying his very best to ease out the growing tension. What an awful shot at being a comedic relief but still, you were glad he was around. 

When you hear nothing else from Sidney, you decide to move on. 

“I’d really appreciate it if you won’t drop by as often at the program just to see Luke.” you tell him. “I want him to learn on his own and if he ever improves, if he ever turns out to be good at the thing that you do, I want him to grow because of his own merits. Not because he’s Sidney Crosby’s son.”

“All right.” he agrees, nodding his head meekly. “I’ll make sure to keep my distance.”

“Also, I wouldn’t want to ruin the things Lucas has already gotten used to in the last three years. He was just a toddler when we moved back here. It wasn’t that big of a risk compared to his age now. He’s more likely to ask more questions when something doesn’t feel right. I’d like to keep things normal for him as much as possible.” you explain. “And so that’s why I don’t think introducing you as his father would be a good idea.”

Kris butts in for a second, not necessarily agreeing to what you’re asking from his friend. 

“What do you mean you wouldn’t introduce him as his dad? Isn’t that the point why we’re all here?” 

You let out a sigh, “I’m just being cautious. My son is better off not knowing about his father if this ends up blowing up our faces.” you say in all honesty just as you look at Sidney. “I can’t bear having to see him deal with losing a parent he shouldn’t have met in the first place.” 

As you made your concerns out in the open, Kris was prepared to jump back and defend Sidney yet again when what the captain only did was gently place a hand on his forearm, letting him know that he’d be just fine settling with only what you could give him. 

“It’s fine, Kris. It’s no big deal.” he says whole heartedly. 

“No big deal? Don’t you think it’s a little unfair? That she’s being unreasonable?” Kris further questions, the tone in his voice reprimanding Sid for being so unlike him. He knew that Sidney was being undermined. He didn’t go all through that trouble just for you to stop Luke from recognizing Sidney as his father.

Nonetheless, Sid answers him with a quiet smile. 

“No.” he simply says. 

Of course, Sidney knows you’re being unfair. The conditions you’ve set for him were the obvious call for a person that clearly opted out and saw your pregnancy as nothing else but a fucking inconvenience. Yes, you may have left him, perhaps a little too soon, but you know that he knows he gave you a good reason for that. And this is how he’s going to get what he deserves.

Sidney would have to have the balls and a thicker face to ignore all that he’s wrongfully done in the last six years. He knew he had a lot of things to make up for — as your son’s father and as your lover. But until then, for as long as you’re willing to let him have even just a little peak of the life you have now without him, Sidney’s grateful just the same.

Sidney breathes. “And even if she was,” he says as he meets your gaze.

“She has every right to be.”

𖥸 

You’ve tried distracting yourself from thinking too much of what’s to become of you and Sidney. It’s been a tough few days and you could really use some sleep.

You just can’t understand why it seemed so impossible to get him off your mind. He wasn’t exactly how you’ve pictured him to be. No matter how much you tried hiding it, a part you believed — hoped that all that he has promised you at that very table were true.

It wasn’t that long when he was just someone who happened to have defined how your life is now. A distant and an all too cruel memory you almost never let yourself think about. But how could you do all that when you’ve already let him walk back into your life? 

You have been distracting yourself with work just so you wouldn’t find yourself drowning with the thought of the aforementioned. The normalcy you had with Luke the moment he was born was certainly what remained constant amidst all the changes happening at once in your now disrupted life. Despite all that, you were thankful to still have your little boy look up at you as if you were his entire world. 

“Mommy?” 

You shot your head away from the pro bono work you’ve been busying yourself with when you hear the small muted voice from the other side of your bedroom door.

Lucas follows up with a series of his little knocks.

“May I please come in?” he asks with his sweet little voice that’s always had an effortless pull on you. 

“It’s open, baby.” you inform him.

You see the knob of your door turn slowly, failing to mask a laugh at the image of your son trying his best to maneuver the simple mechanism. Finally, the door creaked once he successfully swung it open. 

“Hi!” He greets you with a wide smile whilst he holds his Marshall stuffed animal from Paw Patrol. 

“Hi.” you mirror the look on his face, with a grin just as wide and welcoming.

You gently tap on the empty side of the mattress, signaling him to climb and come onto bed. Your son obliges finding how he willfully carried and rolled himself past the height of the bed quite adorably funny.

You chuckle at the sight, instantly greeting him with open arms. “Are you busy?” he asks. You let your hands fall on his sides whilst he hugged Marshall tightly in his arms.

“Nope.” you simply answer. 

“But... you were,” he pouts when he sees the document you’d just put away on your bedside table. 

You meet his eyes with furrowed brows and pinch his nose endearingly. “Mom’s never busy when it comes to you, my love.” 

Luke’s face lights up and he smiles. “Really?”

“Really.” you assure him, reaching to caress his cheek.

“Is there something you wanna tell me?”

Your son sheepishly hides behind his stuffed toy just before he places his chin atop the it’s cotton filled head. “Can I sleep here?” 

You look at him funny for a good second, trying to hide how his little request made your heart flutter.

“Baby… ‘course you can. Come here.” you agree, finding the importance of teaching him how to honor being told ‘yes’ as much as being told ‘no’.

With open arms, you let Lucas fall right into them. You envelop his small frame easily with the other before eventually making its way over his hair. 

You feel him settle on your chest, taking as much space and warmth as he needed. 

“Mom?” 

You hum, perking your head just a tad when he calls you. 

“When will Kris teach me hockey?” he innocently asks whilst he maintains focus on his toy safely placed on top of your stomach. 

“Well… I don’t think he’d be available, sweetie.” you reply with the truth. 

You break a foolish smile upon sensing that he already had his lips pursed into a pout beneath you. 

“Why?” he quietly inquires. “You said he’s going to.” he mumbles, mostly to himself. 

“Actually,” you muse. “There’s someone else who wants to be your teacher.” 

Thrilled by what he just heard, Luke shoots his head high, almost knocking you right on your chin. 

“Careful,” you tell him. 

He mumbles a soft yet genuine “Oopsie. I’m sorry, momma.” before continuing on his query. 

“Who is it?” Luke asks with hopeful eyes.

You click your tongue, pretending that you were thinking of somebody else.

“How about your friend Sidney?” 

You see his cheeks form its usual circles, fashioning the wide smile he’s now exhibiting.

“Okay!” he cheers.

“Okay?” you question shortly, amused that he’s agreed to the new terms that fast. 

Luke nods his head, before he answers.

“Yup! He’s cool.”

“Oh, he’s cool now, is he?” you chuckle. Luke does nothing but nods yet again just as he gently lies down on your side, finally settling down for the night. 

You may have given Kris’ stand on letting Luke know who his father was a thought or two. It will certainly be another hard thing for you to do.

The only thing you could do in order to get past your grudges and see beyond your own biases against your son’s father was to try. Only then will you be able to truly understand and get to know the man Kris claims Sidney has become. 

As the two of you take rest in each other’s arms, you hear your son call out for you for another time.

“Momma, hold my hand?” he mumbles in a quiet tone as he reaches for your free hand. You do as he wishes and take his small hand that was just about half the size of your palm.

You were scared of a lot of things. The majority concerning Sidney. You’d be risking a part of you again just to ensure changes wouldn’t alter your son’s life completely.

For six whole years, you’ve spent living a life lying to yourself about the things you’ve tried so hard to forget just to provide a safe reality for your son. And that, of all things, scares you the most for you know that those very same lies are never going to be your truth. 

You take a deep breath, feeling your son’s breathing even out. You plant a small kiss atop his head and hold him closer, just as you finally speak of the only truth you’d want to live forever. 

“Everything I am is yours.”

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