DISCLAIMER: I don't own the ducks ... though of course i wouldn't mind ... Caitlyn and Marla however, i do "own" and a quote that cuz they are friends of mine who wanted their name in the story .... I don't own the chapter titles either ... they are from "Never Again" by my man - JT (read: justin timberlake) and "If You Asked Me To" by Celine Dion. I highly recommend that you listen to these songs, either before, during or after reading the story (or .. all at once!)
THE ONLY AUTHOR'S NOTE: please r&r .. it would mean a lot. i've written for ff.net but back when the nsync area existed ... i actually ended up losing all my stories .. so if anyone knows anyone with any stories by penname evilspaz12 or supersteph and you wanna send them my way, that'd be wonderful. anyways ... just read and enjoy!
In the darkness, he twisted and turned, whimpering as he rolled over his wrist in his sleep.
A pair of eyes looked up from the book they were attempting to read, at the bed where the noise came from. He sighed and stood up, padding softly over to the bed. He sat down gingerly on the edge, trying not to disturb his sleeping boyfriend.
"Adam," he breathed. He felt horrible. He pushed him to make that play today, he felt responsible. Adam's wrist had been bothering him since that last game, when he got checked into the boards pretty hard, his wrist between him and the wall. At practice, Adam had been nursing it, but Charlie hadn't noticed like he normally would. Charlie was too involved with his grades at school, he was too involved with trying to figure out ways to not flunk out. Then, in today's game, Charlie noticed for the first time that Adam was being extra careful with his wrist. The team they'd been playing were rough. But Charlie saw the scouts in the crowd, and he knew they were there for Adam. He forgot about Adam's injury, and set up a perfect opportunity for Adam to show off his skills. Adam caught onto Charlie's thinking, and took his shot. However both boys seemed to have forgotten the brutality of the other team, and Adam's goal on them wasn't exactly a team pleaser. From the center line, Charlie watched as the opposing team's enforcers pounded Adam, and sent him flying. He saw the way Adam landed, in what seemed like slow motion, right wrist first, followed by not only his own body weight, but his hockey gear as well. Charlie will tell anyone, he swore he heard the crunch of Adam's bones.
It was broken in three spots.
Charlie set down on the edge of the bed and pulled the blanket up to Adam's chin. He slid his palm over Adam's forehead, pushing his hair out the way, and placed a sweet kiss on the newly exposed skin.
Adam rolled over, leaving a spot for Charlie to climb in next to him. Charlie knew what Adam wanted and snuggled into small spot. He wasn't there three seconds when Adam cuddled up next to him. He carefully pulled his wrist from between them and rested it across Charlie's legs.
"I'm sorry," Charlie whispered, running his fingers through Adam's hair, "I'm so incredibly sorry."
Adam took a deep breath and let it out slow, "It wasn't your fault," he never opened his eyes.
Charlie began to tear. That was his Adam, always the one to soothe and calm Charlie, no matter his own problems.
"But your wrist," Charlie trailed off, "...Hockey."
"Hockey isn't everything," he mumbled. He lied. But he was only trying to get Charlie to feel better. What happened was an accident, a simple hockey injury. Sure in the back of Adam's mind was the doctor telling him this very well may be the end of Adam's hockey career as he knows it, that if there is any interference with his recovery, his wrist will never be the same.
But he didn't dare tell Charlie this.
"You're lying," Charlie sniffled, "Hockey is everything to you. You could make it. You were going to make it. I very well may of screwed that up for you."
"Charlie," Adam sat up, visibly perturbed. He just wanted to sleep today off. Tomorrow would be better.
Charlie looked at his boyfriend through his tears.
"Charlie," Adam repeated, "Listen, I would've scored eventually in that game, and I would've gotten knocked down eventually. Everyone got knocked over by them, they were angry because they were losing."
"But I knew you were hurt, and I knew they would've hurt you if you scored and I made you score. I should've taken that shot. They would've gotten me instead!"
"CHARLIE!" Adam reached up with his good hand, lightly and lovingly caressing his boyfriend's cheek, wiping away the tears.
"It was an accident. A freak accident," Adam said slowly.
Charlie looked down. He couldn't look him in the eye. He felt too responsible.
"No Adam, it was my fault, why can't you see that?"
"Listen ... I don't know how to make you see that it wasn't your fault. But I'm tired, and my wrist hurts. Just go to sleep and forget about it," Adam laid back down, his head in Charlie's lap.
"I can't forget about it. I can't forget that I'm responsible for you losing your hockey career," Charlie tore himself from underneath Adam and stomped angrily over to his own bed.
Adam opened his eyes and stared over the covers at his boyfriend. Charlie had his face buried in his pillow, and Adam could hear him trying not to sob.
He stood up and slowly moved over to the other bed, and sat on the edge. He ran his good hand up and down Charlie's back, trying to soothe him. He leaned down kissed the back of his neck, "Shhh, it's going to be alright. Everything's going to be fine," he murmured in between kisses.
Charlie rolled over, "Are you going to play hockey again?" he asked. He sounded like a frightened child. He was 17 years old, getting ready to graduate high school in 5 months.
Adam looked into Charlie's eyes, his own frantically moving from side to side, trying to decide what he should say. He pretty much knew he wasn't going to play again. He knew his doctor was just trying to be nice. He knew that he would never make it to the NHL, "Yes."
THE ONLY AUTHOR'S NOTE: please r&r .. it would mean a lot. i've written for ff.net but back when the nsync area existed ... i actually ended up losing all my stories .. so if anyone knows anyone with any stories by penname evilspaz12 or supersteph and you wanna send them my way, that'd be wonderful. anyways ... just read and enjoy!
In the darkness, he twisted and turned, whimpering as he rolled over his wrist in his sleep.
A pair of eyes looked up from the book they were attempting to read, at the bed where the noise came from. He sighed and stood up, padding softly over to the bed. He sat down gingerly on the edge, trying not to disturb his sleeping boyfriend.
"Adam," he breathed. He felt horrible. He pushed him to make that play today, he felt responsible. Adam's wrist had been bothering him since that last game, when he got checked into the boards pretty hard, his wrist between him and the wall. At practice, Adam had been nursing it, but Charlie hadn't noticed like he normally would. Charlie was too involved with his grades at school, he was too involved with trying to figure out ways to not flunk out. Then, in today's game, Charlie noticed for the first time that Adam was being extra careful with his wrist. The team they'd been playing were rough. But Charlie saw the scouts in the crowd, and he knew they were there for Adam. He forgot about Adam's injury, and set up a perfect opportunity for Adam to show off his skills. Adam caught onto Charlie's thinking, and took his shot. However both boys seemed to have forgotten the brutality of the other team, and Adam's goal on them wasn't exactly a team pleaser. From the center line, Charlie watched as the opposing team's enforcers pounded Adam, and sent him flying. He saw the way Adam landed, in what seemed like slow motion, right wrist first, followed by not only his own body weight, but his hockey gear as well. Charlie will tell anyone, he swore he heard the crunch of Adam's bones.
It was broken in three spots.
Charlie set down on the edge of the bed and pulled the blanket up to Adam's chin. He slid his palm over Adam's forehead, pushing his hair out the way, and placed a sweet kiss on the newly exposed skin.
Adam rolled over, leaving a spot for Charlie to climb in next to him. Charlie knew what Adam wanted and snuggled into small spot. He wasn't there three seconds when Adam cuddled up next to him. He carefully pulled his wrist from between them and rested it across Charlie's legs.
"I'm sorry," Charlie whispered, running his fingers through Adam's hair, "I'm so incredibly sorry."
Adam took a deep breath and let it out slow, "It wasn't your fault," he never opened his eyes.
Charlie began to tear. That was his Adam, always the one to soothe and calm Charlie, no matter his own problems.
"But your wrist," Charlie trailed off, "...Hockey."
"Hockey isn't everything," he mumbled. He lied. But he was only trying to get Charlie to feel better. What happened was an accident, a simple hockey injury. Sure in the back of Adam's mind was the doctor telling him this very well may be the end of Adam's hockey career as he knows it, that if there is any interference with his recovery, his wrist will never be the same.
But he didn't dare tell Charlie this.
"You're lying," Charlie sniffled, "Hockey is everything to you. You could make it. You were going to make it. I very well may of screwed that up for you."
"Charlie," Adam sat up, visibly perturbed. He just wanted to sleep today off. Tomorrow would be better.
Charlie looked at his boyfriend through his tears.
"Charlie," Adam repeated, "Listen, I would've scored eventually in that game, and I would've gotten knocked down eventually. Everyone got knocked over by them, they were angry because they were losing."
"But I knew you were hurt, and I knew they would've hurt you if you scored and I made you score. I should've taken that shot. They would've gotten me instead!"
"CHARLIE!" Adam reached up with his good hand, lightly and lovingly caressing his boyfriend's cheek, wiping away the tears.
"It was an accident. A freak accident," Adam said slowly.
Charlie looked down. He couldn't look him in the eye. He felt too responsible.
"No Adam, it was my fault, why can't you see that?"
"Listen ... I don't know how to make you see that it wasn't your fault. But I'm tired, and my wrist hurts. Just go to sleep and forget about it," Adam laid back down, his head in Charlie's lap.
"I can't forget about it. I can't forget that I'm responsible for you losing your hockey career," Charlie tore himself from underneath Adam and stomped angrily over to his own bed.
Adam opened his eyes and stared over the covers at his boyfriend. Charlie had his face buried in his pillow, and Adam could hear him trying not to sob.
He stood up and slowly moved over to the other bed, and sat on the edge. He ran his good hand up and down Charlie's back, trying to soothe him. He leaned down kissed the back of his neck, "Shhh, it's going to be alright. Everything's going to be fine," he murmured in between kisses.
Charlie rolled over, "Are you going to play hockey again?" he asked. He sounded like a frightened child. He was 17 years old, getting ready to graduate high school in 5 months.
Adam looked into Charlie's eyes, his own frantically moving from side to side, trying to decide what he should say. He pretty much knew he wasn't going to play again. He knew his doctor was just trying to be nice. He knew that he would never make it to the NHL, "Yes."