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barzzal · 2 months

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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 perhaps 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.

It was indeed a good thing that your bed was not adjacent to the doorway. 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! ♡

#sidney crosby #sidney crosby imagine #sidney crosby x reader #hockey imagine #hockey fanfiction #sidney crosby fanfiction #call me crosby #cmc #barzzal imagines #letters to crosby #the gif... very telling

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doc-pickles · 4 months

Text

sent to save me | sidney crosby (ch. 2)

series masterlist

summary: sid grapples with his emotions and talks with annie before visiting the malkin’s newest addition

warnings: none! :)

author’s note: Hey y’all! I’m so happy you’re enjoying this series already. I’m super excited to write it out and give it some body. Hope you like this chapter!

xoxo

nina

The first time Sidney Crosby met Annie Wright she spilled coffee all over him.

“Shit I’m so sorry I wasn’t watching and my phone rang and-,” Annie had paused and looked up at Sidney with wide eyes. “And now the tabloids are going to rake me through the mud for trying to take out Pittsburgh’s Golden Boy.”

Sid chuckled and looked down at his shirt with a grin, “S’okay. It was an accident. Unless you purposely spill coffee on strangers.”

The wide grin that Annie gave Sidney is one he still pictures to this day. Her hair was in a high ponytail, her face freckled from the summer sun. He compares that image with the version of Annie standing in front of him now. She looks sad, worn down even. This is not his Annie.

They’re both standing speechless across from each other and for a moment it feels like no time has passed. But then Sid blinks and his world comes crashing back down around him.

“Is Vivie mine?” Sid’s not sure where his words come from. It feels like he’s not even the one saying them, like he’s watching the scene unfold before him from outside of his body. “I need you to tell me, I need to hear it from your lips. Is she mine?”

Annie’s eyes search his face for a moment before she nods and answers in a quiet voice, “Yes she’s your daughter Sidney.”

His hands run over his face, through his hair, covers his eyes. Sid sucks in a deep breath and immediately feels his sandwich from earlier coming back up. He quickly turns around and pukes into the bush there, chest heaving as he braces his hands on his knees.

He has a daughter.

A daughter who’s first seven years of life he’s missed.

A daughter with the only woman he’s ever loved.

When he’s sure that he’s not going to throw up again Sid stands up, takes a deep breath, and turns to Annie. Her teeth are digging into her lip, a nervous habit she’s always had, and even though he has a million conflicted emotions about her Sid finds all he wants to do right now is smooth out the skin of Annie’s lips like he used to.

“I’m… I’m sorry. I don’t know what to say,” Annie breathes and runs a hand through her blonde locks. “Which isn’t fair to you I know but I wasn’t exactly expecting to run into you when I woke up today. Damn it, I’m sorry I know you’re expecting answers but I can’t… I can’t think straight. I’m sorry.”

Sid sighs and nods, “I get it. I’m, uh, pretty speechless too.” He runs a hand through his salt and pepper hair, clocking Annie’s eyes following his hand. “I have Niki for a few days but maybe… Maybe we could meet up and talk?”

Annie only hesitates for a moment before nodding, her shoulders loosening just a little bit, “That… Yeah that would be good.”

They stand there awkwardly for a few moments as if they’d never been madly in love and on the verge of spending their lives together. Finally Sidney is the one to break the silence as his fingers twitch at his sides.

“Vivie is all Nikita talks about,” Sid smirks at the small laugh that Annie lets out. “Seriously, he spent 20 minutes this morning telling me about why blue and purple are her favorite colors.”

Annie rolls her eyes playfully before smirking, “Yeah that sounds right. Annie and him have been inseparable since they met in kindergarten. Hold on, I have this one picture…”

As Annie pulls her phone out Sidney drinks in her casual appearance, a pair of frayed jeans with a white tee tucked into it. She’s just as gorgeous as she’s always been and it makes Sid’s chest constrict tightly despite the anger and sadness still lingering there.

“Here! They wanted matching costumes so they decided to be Woody and Jessie,” Annie holds her phone and shows Sid a photo of Nikita and Vivie, arms wrapped around each other. It’s clearly from a few years ago, both of them sporting chubby cheeks and bright eyes. Sid takes in the way Vivie’s eyes look so much like his, the way her chin is a perfect replica of his.

There’s emotion overflowing in his chest and Sid finds he has to look away so he doesn’t start crying in front of a fucking elementary school right after throwing up there. He clears his throat and looks away from Annie’s phone, “She’s beautiful, An. Is, uh, is Vivie short for something?”

“Her full name is Vivienne,” Annie whispers as she watches her phone intently. “Um… Vivienne Taylor.”

Sidney felt his heart clench at Annie’s words, knowing she’d thought of him when naming their daughter. He let out a slow breath, willing back his tears once more before nodding, “That’s… Thank you.”

Annie and Sid exchange numbers before parting ways and as soon as he’s behind the wheel of his SUV Sidney lets out a ragged breath followed by a low sob.

“Mama! Papa!”

Sid’s been on auto pilot since his run in with Annie this morning, but Nikita’s yell breaks him out of his haze momentarily. He follows the boy into the hospital room, watching as Geno lifts his son into his arms and kisses his hair.

That should be you with your daughter.

Shaking the thought off Sid sets the flowers he’d brought on the bedside table before coming over to hug Anya, kissing her forehead.

“You look great for just having pushed a baby out,” Sid teases lightly, but his grin doesn’t reach his eyes.

“She big like her papa, nearly tore me in half,” Anya grins up at Sid before looking to the bundle in her arms. “You wanna hold?”

He agrees instinctively and carefully takes the baby from Anna. Her little face is scrunched up and Sid can already see wisps of dark hair peeking out from her cap. Gently running a finger down her chubby cheek Sid thinks about his own daughter and how he never got this moment with her. Hell he’d never even hugged the girl and she was already seven years old.

“Sid why you crying, it’s just baby,” Geno teases as he sidles up next to him. He looks him over before lowering his voice. “You okay?”

Sidney nods and stares at the baby for another moment before speaking, “I met Vivie today. And her mom.”

Geno grunts, his eyes trained on his daughter, “Mom never around when I am. Anya think she’s avoiding me, don’t know why though.”

“Vivie’s mom is Annie,” Sid pauses and then looks up at Geno, whose face has gone white. “My Annie.”

The two men stand in silence, Nikita chattering to his mom in the background. Sid and Geno keep their eyes locked on the baby in Sid’s arms as they come to terms with the bomb that had been dropped on them. Annie had left before Anya had moved to Pittsburgh, it was reasonable she wouldn’t know who she was. But Geno would have and Annie knew that.

“Sid is…,” Geno looks scared to utter the words as he meets Sid’s eyes. “Vivie?”

Sid simply nods, Geno exhaling and running a hand over his face. The baby fusses a bit and Sidney immediately starts to rock back and forth, bouncing on his heels and soothing her.

“You’re natural Sid,” Anya muses with a grin, missing the wince Geno lets out. “When you have your own babies?”

“Anya,” Geno says lowly and though he can’t understand it, Sid knows that whatever he says in Russian is enough for Anna to get that she shouldn’t ask more questions.

Later that night after he’s tucked Nikita into bed Sid checks his phone, a glass of scotch in one hand as he sinks into the couch. He has a few texts but there’s only one he clicks into.

Unknown: hey it’s annie. let me know when a good time for you to meet up is, i’m flexible.

And then, as if knowing his heart didn’t need to take anymore hits today, Annie sends a photo of Vivie fast asleep in her bed with a stuffed penguin tucked under her chin.

And Sidney finally lets his tears fall.

#Sidney crosby #Sidney crosby fic #Sidney crosby fanfic #nhl fic #nhl fanfic #hockey fic #hockey fanfic #nina writes

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ficjoelispunk · 5 months

Text

Ch 07 - Read the fucking papers

Continuation, you can find it here

<< Previous Chapter | Next Chapter >>

Author's Note: Guys, I'm sorry for any grammatical errors, don't give up on me, translating is not easy, but I did my best. Correct me as much as you can. Thanks.

Murphy showed up at the ambulance door.

"Is she okay?" The worried tone.

Javier looked at you, peacefully sleeping.

"Physically yes, mentally I don't know..."

"I'm going to Bogotá, you stay here with her..." Murphy spoke studying Javier. He didn’t take his eyes off you.

"Have they called his wife yet?" Javier was talking about Carrillo.

"Yes, she will come from Madrid" Murphy sighed "It's not your fault Javi, it's Escobar's, and somehow he'll pay."

"Like all of us. Right?" Javier murmured.

"We have to take her to the hospital, she will need serum for hydration and observation if she is at a high level of malnutrition," the rescuer said.

Javier looked at Murphy.

"Go."

Peña nodded.

You slept all night, and almost the next day, Under the effects of the tranquilizer. Some agents went to the hospital to collect your testimony, but Javier informed that as soon as you were discharged this would be the first thing you would do. He knew it wouldn't be. But he just wanted to ward off anything that could take away your peace.

The tests were ready, and the medical report was positive, for the number of days you were in captivity, and for the perspective of what could have happened to you. Having some abrasions and bruises was a sign of victory.

Javier sat next to your bed all the time, leaving only when Murphy went to the hospital with Messina and Crosby, who flew from Bogotá to Medellin as soon as he could to follow his testimony.

"She hasn't woken up yet, but the doctors have informed that she is fine, and as soon as she wakes up and recovers she may be discharged"

Crosby put one hand on Peña's shoulder and the other on Murphy's shoulder.

"You guys did a great job here. I'm sorry for the loss of Colonel and friend Carrillo"

They both nodded.

Crosby and talked something to Steve.

"I can stay with her in case you need to go home..." Messina was helpful.

"I'm fine."

She nodded.

"That's not your fault Peña" Messina tried to comfort him.

"No?"

"No."

"I was deceived."

"We all went," she sighed, "we had information confirmed by Centra Spike"

"Stop" Javier ran his hand over his face. "Just..." he shook his head "you come here, and say all the right things, but it doesn't make a shred of difference, Carrillo is dead. She's in a hospital bed."

Messina is silent for a while.

"Colonel Carrillo's funeral is tomorrow..."

"I'm not going to funerals"

Messina withdrew towards the Ambassador.

Murphy approached and patted Javier on the shoulder.

Javier wouldn't leave your side. He couldn't explain it. Even when he was very involved in a relationship in the past, to the point of thinking about committing himself to God and men - from which he fled - but without ceasing to have had the intention, he never felt the way he was feeling now.

A kiss. And one night in the file room, that's what sentenced the penalty he already knew he would carry for you. The 3 years acting as a dog and cat, it was just a mask that he accepted to wear with the sole purpose of having you close to him.

Knowing that you would not submit to something that was really not serious, and knowing the gossip that built his fame as a womanizer, he would have no chance with you. The provocations were the closest he had to keep something other than the professional with you.

But he does not deny that sometimes his stubbornness, seriousness and intelligence have left him on the verge of nerve collapse. And it was hard to focus on something when all his mind wanted was to lay your body on your perfectly organized table and senselessly sink his cock into you until you forgot who it was.

But he also noticed the way you breathed near him. The way you looked at him. How your body stiffened and you became tense when it was too close. Your body language said one thing, and your mouth said another. He just needed to be patient because he knew you would be his.

And he had a lot of patience. You were a beautiful, sophisticated, educated, intelligent and very well-connected and articulate woman. It took at least a third of what you were to occupy the position you occupied, and you were far beyond that. He didn't understand why you agreed to get into this end of the world, when you could quietly coordinate an entire sector in Washington.

All his attributes were perfectly remarkable. And he had to hold back many times so as not to assault the men who made comments about you. Because you were secretly his property. And he would never let any other man approach.

After your coming from Bogotá, with the department to Medellin, work in the same square meter as him. Smell your lavender body moisturizer every damn morning. Bumping into you in the corridors, and working being able to rest him eyes on you, could only have an end. Or you would end up hating each other forever. Either you would sooner or later give in to the visceral desire you felt for each other.

And that's what happened. But now, it seemed that somehow, life wanted to punish Javier. He knew that if it wasn't for him, they probably wouldn't have taken you. They took you because someone somewhere noticed, and knew that you were a means of access to him.

And to see you there, lying in that hospital bed, knowing that you went through a hell on earth, and finally you still saw the demon. It made him think of only two things. Or he would have to protect you, and be ready for everything that involved it. Or he would have to push you away.

"Hey" your hoarse and low voice, your trembling hands reaching the face of Javier who was sitting next to you with his elbows on his knees.

Javier turned to you.

"Hey" he got up, holding your hand, those big, expressive and brown eyes dancing over the expansion of your face.

You smiled at him, unable to prevent the smile from forming on your face.

"How are you feeling" he sat on the edge of the bed next to your body.

"I’m fine" your mouth was dry "how long did I sleep?"

"Not much... I'm going to call a nurse..."

You held his hand. Javier noticed the fear in your eyes, sat next to you again.

"Cariño" he passed his free hand over your hair, you closed your eyes, going down to your cheek to hold your face "it's okay, I'm here, nothing will happen to you"

Javier's voice could be your favorite sound. He would get anything from you. What could be a serious problem. You don't remember the exact moment your body succumbed to him.

He didn't have to leave. The nurse entered the room anyway. Instinctively you shook Javier's hand.

Javier understood there that you would take longer than he thought to recover, and had a partial dimension of the size of the trauma you had acquired with this experience.

"Hello, I'm Carlita, I just came to check on you"

You nodded.

"How are you feeling? Any pain?"

You took a while to evaluate yourself.

"I'm fine, actually..." you hesitated "without pain"

The nurse moved the sheet, and did some activities with your legs, which radiate a pain in your abdomen making you frown.

"Are you sure?" She asked.

You nodded.

"Mhm, it's just..."

Javier stood by your side, without letting go of your hand, studying your body with his eyes.

"What is it?" He asked the nurse.

"No, I'm fine..."

"Okay" the nurse stretched your legs, and rested her hand on her arm gently "She fractured a rib, you need to be careful when moving, since there is no way we can immobilize," she said to Javier.

You stiffened.

Javier got serious by your side, his lips in a thin line. The nurse checked the medication. And your accesses.

"Now that she has woken up, soon the doctor will come for the last evaluations," she told Javier.

"Thank you"

The nurse left the room, and you were silent.

Javier sat on the chair again, still without letting go of your hand. But he lowered his head while his fingers massaged his forehead.

"Sorry..." you murmured.

Javier looked at you.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know that... I didn't know they were following me, I didn't realize. This must have hindered the entire progress of the operation, someone was responsible for..."

"Stopped" Javier turned to face you "did you disappear for 9 days and are you worried about your work?"

Your eyes deviated from his a few times thinking.

"I can't believe it..." he sighed smiling ironically "Fuck the operation, if Escobar appeared in front of me, I wouldn't give a damn, I would keep looking for you"

"Javi..."

He shook his head, got up leaning over to kiss your hand. Your breathing failed.

"Never apologize for something like that again. Did you hear?"

You nodded to him blinking nonsense. There were no records in your memory of someone taking care of you that way.

Later the doctor came, did some routine evaluations, and discharged you.

Murphy had brought you some clothes he had at Connie's house. And personally you felt very grateful for their care of you.

Javier was driving the Jeep taking turns looking at your face, analyzing you whenever possible. A hand resting on your leg.

When they were close to the base, he broke the silence.

"Listen..."

You turned your head to look at him.

"Possibly they'll want to collect your testimony and all this shit you already know, but if you don't feel well, or if you don't want to do that, I can talk to Messin..."

"It's okay" you didn't let him finish "It's okay, I'm fine. I already imagined, I'm prepared for that."

Javier studied your face through his sunglasses, and nodded.

"Thank you..." you stroked his hand, "for all this..."

He held your hand, and brought it to his lips to kiss her.

You made your way back in silence.

Javier listened to you. But he felt that as you approached the Academy, you were stiffening, changing, maybe trying to wear a mask so as not to demonstrate the vulnerability you had. Do not show weakness.

Crosby welcomed you with a handshake.

"It's great to have you back."

"It's great to be back"

"How are you feeling?" Crosby put his hands on your back, walking next to you.

Javier saw you shrink to the touch, uncomfortable, and closed his eyes wanting to get in the middle of the two of you, to keep Crosby away from you.

"I'm fine, actually"

"I know this may not be the time, but we need a testimony, if you don't mind..."

"Yes, it's better while everything is fresh"

Javier was behind you, observing the way your posture had totally changed. You were someone imposing now, even so small.

If he hadn't seen you without the armor you wore. He would think that everything that happened was nothing to you. But he knew you were just pretending.

Javier stood on the other side of the glass in the testimony room, along with Steve and Messina, Trujillo had already returned, and with you inside the room was an agent and the Ambassador.

You sat behind the table, facing the agent, and your boss. Javier could feel his tension miles away.

Javier also noticed your discomfort when trying to cross your leg. He knew you was in pain. He sighed. You didn't need to go through this now.

"So, I need you to tell me everything you think is important and remember," Crosby began.

"Of course"

"How did they approach you?" The agent started.

Javier had his arms crossed in front of his body, serving as support for the arm that carried his hand to his face with his fingers over his mustache. Concentrated and attentive.

"I left the base at 6:50/7 a.m to buy some personal hygiene items at the pharmacy five blocks from here, when I got out of the car, a black vehicle closed the passage on the street, two armed men came down and immobilized me, putting a cloth bag on my head"

"Would you recognize the men?"

"I could try"

"Would you know how to tell if they moved you from place?"

"Yes, every two days they moved me"

"How was it there? What did you hear? Names. Descriptions. Everything you can say"

You cleared your throat.

It would be difficult to go over everything. A trauma is the first thing the brain tries to erase. It's about defense.

Javier noticed your discomfort. Murphy looked at his partner.

"If it's something difficult we can try another way..." the agent said in a tone of sarcasm.

"I'm fine, you do it all the time, don't you?"

The agent looked at Crosby. Crosby shrugged.

Javier closed his eyes, lowering his head. He knew that shouldn't be happening. You just wanted to prove a point to people. Prove that you were competent even when you were a victim.

"I didn't understand everything very well. At times they didn't speak Spanish and I have difficulty understanding Castilian. But, I went through laboratories, somewhere they carried out the accounting, and at points of distribution of money and drugs"

"This was where you were for the last one"

"Yeah."

"Do you remember names?"

"Yes" you named at least about 20 people.

Javier, Murphy and Messina exchanged looks amazed at their memory.

"How do you remember the names of all these people?"

"I had a lot of free time"

"Would you know how to say what each one was responsible for?"

"Yes" you said the names of some sicaários, and distributors, but you failed to mention the names of three people.

"What about the three missing names?"

You swallowed it dry. And you looked down.

Murphy and Peña exchanged glances behind the glass that separated you.

Javier put his hands on his waist.

"They..." you hesitated "they are part of another Cartel I think..."

"Right, but what were they doing there?"

You looked at the ceiling, at the walls of the room.

"They were at the place they used for accounting, and went to get money I think, but they drank and used coke, and..."

You shook your head.

Javier approached the glass and leaned on the space of the wall.

"And?" The agent pressed it.

You swallowed it dry again. Your eyes danced between the agent and the Ambassador.

"They came to me" you were looking at the table.

"For what?"

You tilted your head to the side and let out the air through your nose.

"What do you think?" You counterattacked.

Javier shook his head watching. At least you were sharp.

"I'll go there" Javier turned towards the door.

"No!" Messina threatened.

"She is the victim, is this a testimony or an interrogation?"

"You can't interfere"

Javier snorted, his hands on his waist, shaking his head.

"She's smart, she knows how to turn around"

"This is insane" he said between thententes.

The agent moved in the chair in front of you.

"I don't think anything." He answered.

You smiled ironically.

"They wanted to abuse me"

"How?"

"Seriously?"

The agent stood still looking at you.

You blinked a few times.

"Sexually" you murmured, your voice spoke.

"Did they make it?"

"No"

"How?”

"I fought"

"How?"

"I wasn't tied up, until that moment I didn't pose any risk"

"And what did they do?"

You shook your head looking away in disbelief.

"I thought that this kind of detail I would give only if I were to represent a complaint, and had to do a body and crime examination. Do you have any experience in dealing with women who are victims of abuse?"

"I’m the one who asks the questions here."

"Okay, congratulations. You’re doing a great job."

"You didn't answer my question"

"And I'm not even going, I've already done my body and crime exam if you want to know the details then read the fucking papers"

Crosby advanced towards the table and put his hand on the agent's shoulder.

"Sorry," you said looking at the Ambassador.

"Let's skip this part," Crosby told the agent.

Messina and Murphy exchanged glances. Javier was almost climbing the walls.

"Jesus" Javier spoke in the midst of sighs shaking his head.

"Okay, then, after the unsuccessful attempt, what happened?" The agent continued.

You sighed.

"They hit me"

"Didn't you get scared?"

"Of course I was scared"

"And yet he challenged them"

You uncrossed your leg, and leaned towards the agent, on the table.

"I'd rather be dead than let them rape me" your tone was dark.

Javier shook his head on the other side of the glass. While hiding his face behind his hand, leaning on his crossed arm.

The agent was visibly embarrassed.

"So they assaulted you"

"Yes"

"What then?"

"They asked for information about the operations"

Everyone stood still. Looking at you, who slowly settled down on the chair, and crossed your leg again.

"And did you say something?" Crosby asked.

Javier rolled his eyes. Thanking that no one could see him behind the glass, because he would certainly be removed.

"No, sir"

"They insisted to what extent?" The agent asked.

"I think my cracked rib answers your question"

"Actually, no, it doesn't answer"

You were angry. Cracking the jaw. At that point the idiocy of this agent had already pissed you off. You've already passed the limit of shame, of pity for yourself, and now it was just anger.

"Okay. When they couldn't rape me, and couldn't kill me, by order of someone above them, then they began to ask about the operations, such as interceptions information, names of informants... and as I didn't answer any of the questions" flashbacks passed through his head, "so they tied me up, and began to hit me, on the face, on the belly, on the back, on the arms, on the legs, with punches, kicks, straps, and sometimes depending on how I responded to the provocations with the weapons. When they realized that I wouldn't speak at all. They started torturing me in other ways. They left me in the same place where I did my needs, without me actually being able to move to take off my clothes. After that they would send me food with potatoes, rats, flies or larvae, it depended on their mood. And if there was nothing visible, they would urinate on my food before giving it to me, do you want me to explain how I found out about it? I don’t think you need it, right? The only thing I really had access to was water. And they spit inside the glass."

There was a silence in the room.

Your breathing became a little irregular.

Messina had her hand in her mouth, trying to hide the horror.

Murphy looked at and analyzed Javier, while he was taken by a hatred of knowing how you spent your last weeks being strong and courageous.

Javier couldn't hear more of that. He looked in a straight direction paralyzed, but couldn't see anything. It was pure hate. And thirst for revenge.

"Did I be clear?" Your voice came out cracked.

Your eyes were teary, you tried hard so that no tears would fall.

The agent raised his eyebrows while fixing the papers.

"I think we're done"

"Great!"

You got up.

Crosby too.

Javier was already ready to go around the room, with the door open.

"I suggest you take this week off," Crosby told you.

"No." You answered faster than usual.

Crosby was going to start an argument, but you raised your hand to him.

"If I may, sir..."

Crosby nodded, letting you talk.

"I came to this country, to serve my country in the fight against drug trafficking, and I did just that for three years, if now after all, I can't work, then I can't find any reason to stay here. If by any chance you believe that I am not in sufficient conditions to perform my function, then I prefer to go home"

Javier is shocked by the chance of you really leaving. Like this. Suggesting that. Without even blinking.

Crosby looks between you and the agent. Itches your forehead.

"I would never think you can't afford work. You're the best we could have."

"Thank you, sir"

"You'll be back tomorrow."

"Thank you, sir"

Javier runs to the door, waiting for someone inside to open it, so that he can finally enter.

Crosby opens the door.

"Agent Peña"

He nods.

"Ambassador"

When the agent goes past Peña, he stares at him running his eyes from the feet to the agent's head, and cruelly bumps his shoulder into the agent's chest, who does not question, and only follows the Ambassador.

You had your hands resting on the table, with your head down.

Peña is approaching. Not knowing how to approach you after that.

Messina and Murphy on the other side of the glass look at each other.

"We should go" Messina suggests leaving the room, and Murphy follows her.

Javier is behind you, he puts his hands in your arms, stroking up and down.

"Hey, baby"

You straighten your posture, and clear your throat.

"Are you okay?"

You look at him over your shoulder.

"Yes"

He approaches you, and puts a kiss on your temple.

You close your eyes, and reach for his hands, with yours.

"Can I take you home?"

You force a smile.

"Please."

Javier turns your body to him, pulling you for a hug, you sink your head into his tits, squeezing his waist against your body, wanting to get inside him and hide.

"C’mon, cariño"

#pedro pascal #javier pena x y/n #javier pena fluff #javier pena x you #javier pena x reader #javier pena smut #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena imagine #javier pena fic #javier pena narcos #javier peña #narcos #narcos fanfiction

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helluvaimagination · 2 months

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Shadow Waltz

Ch. 1: Prologue - The Shadow Waltz Begins

CW: Graphic violence, death

Hey folks! This will be a long-form lucifer/alastor fic that isn't compliant with alastor's serial killer past. instead, in this world, alastor is sacrificed as part of a ritual and goes straight to hell. lucifer does his best to help <3

(Lyrics from "Shadow Waltz" by Bing Crosby)

youtube

In the shadows, let me come and sing to you

Let me dream a song that I can bring to you

Take me in your arms and let me cling to you

Let me linger long

Let me live my song

It was another quiet night at the station, and Alastor was, as usual, reclining in his chair and sipping his coffee as Bing Crosby crooned across the airwaves. Peaceful. Calm. Quiet. Just a hint of static in the air. It had to be close to midnight now, and when Alastor flicked his gaze out the window, the pinhole lights of stars winked down at him. There was nothing better.

Of course, that’s when it all went wrong.

In the winter, let me bring the spring to you

Let me feel that I mean everything to you

Love’s old song will be new

In the shadows when I come and sing to you

The door crashed open and hooded figures with shrouded, indistinct faces stormed into the booth. Alastor choked on his tea, dropping his mug and barely hearing it shatter against the ground. In an instant, he was being grabbed by strong arms and dragged out of his chair, dragged across the floor, dragged out the door. He tried to say something—the urge to shout and scream clawed at his throat—but nothing came out. The station was near a wooded area, a fact Alastor had loved ardently up until this very moment, as sharp branches scratched at his cheeks and tore open his skin. He was kicking his feet, desperately trying to resist, but the figures didn’t pay any attention to him.

And then they were in the clearing, a myriad of candles casting a red hue across the horrid scene. In the center was a bloodied altar upon which a deer had been brutalized. Behind it, there were chains and manacles attached to a tree. With a creeping sense of dread, Alastor realized that they were meant for him.

Shadows on the wall

I can see them fall

Here and there

Everywhere

They push him against the tree brutally and he hears rather than feels the crack of his head against the bark. His world darkens and grows hazier. Perhaps it is for the best, Alastor thinks to himself, and his suspicions are confirmed when one of the hooded figures picks up the deer’s antlers with reverence. Alastor’s lungs burn and his head spins and his vision blurs. Everything is happening too fast. He wonders, for a moment, if he’s just having a nightmare, if Bing Crosby’s dulcet tones lulled him into sleep.

Then, pain.

Silhouettes in blue

Dancing in the dew

Here I am

Where are you?

Distantly, as unconsciousness tugs at his mind, he hears chanting. Gibberish, for the most part, but then he picks out a word. A name. Lucifer.

It’s the last thought he has. He falls out of consciousness and then his soul falls out of its body and he is shackled by red light and pure, horrific darkness before being pulled down, down, down, so fast it’s impossible. He falls with a painful thump upon a flat surface. He doesn’t think he has eyes or a mouth or even a body, but he can still sense. He senses a being of pure light, light so impossibly bright and warm and radiant.

“I’m so sorry,” it says, too softly, too kindly. “I’ll do what I can.”

The light grows and grows until it cocoons him. He can feel himself being made anew.

In the winter, let me bring the spring to you

Let me feel that I mean everything to you

Love’s old song will be new

In the shadows when I come and sing to you, dear

In the shadows when I come and sing to you

Read Chapter 2 on Archive of Our Own right now!

#alastor/lucifer #radioapple #appleradio #hazbin hotel #alastor #lucifer #alternate universe #fanfic #ao3 #Youtube

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foxes-that-run · 7 months

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Sweet Creature

Harry said that Sweet Creature is about one person, and that he will never say who, adding if he would never tell them it wasn't about them. I think the protagonist has changed since it was written. It was a closer in the Live on tour set, and often emotional like this time in New York.

It was played once on HSLoveOT at Wembley. Harry talked about Gemma first bringing him to London for xfactor and he’d “like to play a song for her tonight”. He thanked London. So its matured in meaning and he sung it to Gemma, who had a baby 8 months later:

youtube

19 February 2016

At the Troubadour (at 21:40) on it's launch 19 May 2017, Harry said Sweet Creature was written a few weeks after his birthday 1 February 2016. It was written at the Village in Los Angeles. There is a photo of him at the studio on the 19th February. He also said it was the first song he wrote “for” the album (1:22). Harry said that one song (two ghosts) was written before leaving the band but everything on debut except 3 songs were written between July and December 2016.

Sweet creatures opening melody is similar to Blackbird by the Beatles. Blackbird is a McCartney song, interestingly, Harry was photographed with Ringo at the Clive Davis Grammy party. From I'm Not Happy (possibly the same night) and Pop Tart it might have been the first time they saw each other after the 2015 BBMAs 8 months earlier, 1D had been touring for most of that.

Cry “O sweet creature!” then kiss me hard

‘Sweet Creature’ appears in Shakespeare’s Othello. A tragedy, Othello is newly married to the beautiful (and faithful) Desdemona. The villain, Lago resents Othello and drives him mad by insinuating that the handsome and charismatic Cassio had an affair with Desdemona. Lago tells Othello that he heard Cassio talk in his sleep:

In sleep I heard him say “Sweet Desdemona Let us be wary, let us hide our loves.” And then, sir, would he gripe and wring my hand, Cry “O sweet creature!” then kiss me hard…”

It’s a really interesting reference. On one hand, Harry is singing with genuine affection and fits the imagined role of Cassio. However, as described in Woman Harry was jealous and he’s also the villain, messing with CH, in a laughably effective way.

If the Othello reference holds, Desdemona had also not cheated on Othello. But by 28 February Harry tweeted 'You can shake an apple off an apple tree.' And by April 29 that may have changed (Illicit Affairs / I did something bad).

Lyrics

[Verse 1] Sweet creature Had another talk about where it's going wrong But we're still young We don't know where we're going But we know where we belong

In out of the Woods and interviews about it Taylor talked about the relationship being tentative and plagued by challenges and poor communication.

Harry did not know where he was going, One Direction was broken up and although he started recording he had not signed a solo record deal.

TS and HS were unable to let each other go for years, often singing about belonging, or eventually being together. Particularly Someday, Satellite, As it Was, The 1 and End Game.

[Pre-Chorus] And, oh, we started Two hearts in one home It's hard when we argue We're both stubborn, I know But oh

'Two hearts one home' references Hopelessly by Crosby, Stills and Nash hoping on Harry’s Another Man Mix Tape. “They are One Person / They are Two Alone”, Nash was longing for Joni Mitchell, an idol of Taylor’s. This line is often read as referring to Gemma and when played it again in 2023 Harry agreed. However I think it wouldn’t have been dropped from the set if it was about Gemma.

In 2016 though, his 'home' was not a building. In the first 2 minutes of the Fine Line interview with Zane Lowe Harry talks about not feeling at home and feeling lost in his house in London on a 5 day 1D break, and glad when it ended. Taylor was a home of the heart, a part of his world and separate to the band. Woman Exile has more on ‘home’.

The idea of one’s sweetheart being home is in the Notebook, Harry’s favourite movie. Old Noah says it to his kids when they ask him to come home with him, his wife is his home.

[Chorus] Sweet creature, sweet creature Wherever I go, you bring me home Sweet creature, sweet creature When I run out of road, you bring me home

‘When I run out of road’ reminds us of the amount of Driving in Haylor songs. But this is referring specifically to Harry’s anxiety going solo and trust/hope that Taylor would be there for him. 7 months later in New Years Day she agreed: “I'll be there if you're the toast of the town, babe, Or if you strike out and you're crawling home”

[Verse 2] Sweet creature Running through the garden Oh, where nothing bothered us But we're still young I always think about you and how we don't speak enough

I think here though the Garden is the beach at Taylors Rhode Island home, (bought when they first dated) where the 1989 and 1989 TV covers and rolling stone beach shoot was. This shoot is referenced in the videos for Style and End Game.

Similar lyrical references are in Cruel Summer (snuck in through the garden gate to seal our fate), Blank Space (Rose Garden filled with thorns) and Betty (In the Garden would you trust me).

Not speaking is also a common theme, best put in Fine Line: "Spreading you open Is the only way of knowing you", and The 1: "And if you wanted me, you really should've showed."

And he posted this when it was released

#haylor #sweet creature #harry styles #Youtube #harry styles debut #hs1

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studentbyday · 6 months

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src: study with me by SARE

D-47 DAYS TO FREEDOM

sigh. towards the end of the height of autumn, i start craving for winter bc that means the sooner i am to no-school days but then winter comes and then i'm like WHERE DID THE TIME GO. i am not looking forward to that feeling.

learning:

review lipoproteins ✅

finish biochem module review activities ✅

finish biochem hw ✅ (still gotta chk + send)

finish section 1/2 of mol bio ✅ (i have 4 slides left)

work on biochem term paper (ngh so hard not to procrastinate on this one...but i gotta get the first draft in by early next week so i gotta start nowww 😣😣) ✅ (rewrote the introduction bc apparently intros for papers need a looooot of detail)

finished 1/3 psyc ch from last week ✅

self-care:

physio exercises ✅

🎶 white christmas - bing crosby

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rosiesriiveters · 23 days

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boys + The Horrors [part 1] [part 2]

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warwickroyals · 23 days

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beginning - previous - next

[TRANSCRIPT]

#warwick.story #gif warning #ch: alex #ch: kamryn #ch: crosby #ch: margaux-grace #chapter three #✨#ts4 #ts4 story #ts4 royal #ts4 storytelling #ts4 edit #ts4 royal legacy #ts4 legacy #ts4 royalty #ts4 monarchy #ts4 screenshots

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motownfiction · 5 months

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oddity

From the moment she learned to speak, Lucy’s mother has held her close and called her my little oddity.

It seems nice for a little while. Mom never says anything mean to Lucy. She loves everything about her. When Lucy picked up a guitar and started strumming non-existent, non-rhyming songs about women in cafés in Europe, Mom kissed her cheeks and called her perfect little Joni Mitchell baby, my little oddity. When Lucy got really into wearing mismatched socks because she thought it added subtle character, Mom said she was proud of her, so proud of her, my little oddity. It was a term of endearment, like when Sadie’s mom called her sweetheart, or when Will’s mom called him baby. Mom’s just smarter than all the other parents, including Dad, most of the time. Oddity is a stronger word. A smarter word. A better one.

Until Lucy is too proud of it on the way to art class in fourth grade.

And Nick Crosby tells her it’s an insult. An accurate one, to be sure, because Lucy is the only kid in the whole fourth grade who knows the difference between all the different painters that Miss Kovacks asks them about every Tuesday morning, in art class.

She carries his words in her chest like a bomb for almost two more hours. Thankfully, recess rolls around, and she can detonate. Right in front of Sadie, the only person who knows how to listen. They’re sitting motionless on the swingset when Lucy finally gets the courage.

“Am I weird?” Lucy asks.

Sadie shrugs.

“I guess so,” she says. “Why? Is that bad?”

“I think. But you have to be honest with me. Am I weird?”

“Yeah.”

Sadie doesn’t even hesitate. Lucy wonders what it would be like to punch a hole right through the air.

“Great,” she mutters. “How do you know I’m weird?”

Sadie shrugs.

“You know how everybody else likes Greg?” she says, beginning to pump her legs and swing back and forth, back and forth. “Including me?”

“Yeah.”

“You like Peter.”

Lucy screws up her face.

“That’s not weird,” she says. “He’s kind of like Will.”

Sadie turns her head and gives her a look that only a ten-year-old girl with gossip behind her eyes can give.

“Sure,” she says. “You’re weird.”

Lucy sighs.

“I knew it.”

“But that’s not bad. If you weren’t weird, I don’t think I’d like you very much.”

Lucy smiles, even though she doesn’t mean to.

“OK,” she says. “I guess I’ll live with it, then.”

They swing back and forth, back and forth, back and forth.

(part of @nosebleedclub november challenge -- day 18!)

#drabble #writeblr #ch: lucy callaghan #ch: mary callaghan #ch: nick crosby #ch: sadie doyle #dynamic: sister christian #year: 1977 #obsessed with how lucy finds ways to crush on will in all forums

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barzzal · 2 years

Text

call me crosby → part five

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)

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.

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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 ♡

#sidney crosby #sidney crosby imagine #sidney crosby fanfiction #hockey imagine #nhl imagine #sidney crosby x reader #call me crosby #cmc #barzzal imagines #letters to crosby

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