Disclaimer: I own nothing but the ideas rattling in my head!
The plane touches down in Saskatoon at a horrifically early hour. Betty peers out the window, groaning slightly when all she sees is blue-tinged snow as far as the eye can see. She gets it, she honestly does: winter plus Canada equals snow, and their seven-day circus trip through the western provinces and the Pacific Northwest is going to be full of it (except for Vancouver and Seattle, thank the hockey gods). Betty was born and raised in Minnesota, for crying out loud. She grew up with the cliché hockey childhood of skating on frozen ponds for a good portion of the winter.
That still does not mean she enjoys freezing her ass off, thank you very much. There are days when she longingly thinks about having accepted the job in Florida, but then she remembers that working with a Florida team doesn't mean staying in Florida all the time. Besides, she doesn't think she can handle those summers.
The players and other staff stir around her, and there are a few grumbles as some get up to change back into their suits. A few muffled giggles means that someone's been pranked, and it's only a matter of time before they find out whom.
Wade stirs in the seat beside her. "So what's the verdict, Doc?" he asks, stretching and rubbing his eyes. Wade, oddly enough, is one of the few players who often wears his suit for the entire flight. On planes, he falls asleep deeply and doesn't even twitch.
If she had a nickel for every time a player asked her that question, she'd be rich. Honestly, they're like children sometimes. "I told you we'd check your knee once we arrive at the arena, all right Wade? Not a second sooner. I know you're itching to get your partner back-"
"Hey, Maximoff is good, eh?" Wade shrugs. "I'm glad he was called up." He flashes her a toothy grin. "It's just that tonight is the Wasps, and I always want to give them a warm hello."
Sometimes Wade willfully forgets that he's a very skilled defenseman and not a goon. Luckily, Coulson knows when to use that to his advantage when he's directing defense, usually in coordination with Melinda to pull off some spectacular play using Wade as a distraction. And Wade, being Wade, always delights in being a distraction. According to Darcy, there's a fan Twitter account called What Will Wade Do Next?
But he's probably not going to play that role tonight, she thinks, glancing down to Wade's leg. Thankfully, the ligament was only pulled, not torn and hadn't required surgery, but it had still kept him out longer than anyone would have liked. Still, he was right and Pietro Maximoff, newly called up from the Commandos after only being drafted the year before, was proving to be a highly capable replacement.
Still, it's always hard when a core member of your defense is missing. Even with Pietro called up, he's not playing the same number of minutes as Wade would, which means the burden falls on the other defensemen to make up for the time lost.
Betty cleared Wade for the trip, knowing that he would be ready at least halfway through the trip if not by the end. "We'll see," she tells him before turning her gaze out towards the window once more. They'll have a few hours to nap before the team needs to get to the arena for a short skate and practice, then one more nap break before the game itself. She fully intends to rest up for what promises to be an intense game against the Wasps. While the rivalry is not on par with, say, the Mammoths, Blades, or Serpents, it still comes pretty darn close. She's definitely expecting a fair number of minor injuries tonight.
Scott storms out of the tiny airplane bathroom. "Goddamn it, guys!" he roars, startling several people awake, while the rest of the team collapses with laughter. "Are we in fucking juniors again?"
Because someone's seen fit to give him a full makeover, including blush, eyeshadow, and liner. In Sharpie.
Betty sighs and reaches for the baby wipes. Hockey players.
Christine has been Betty's road roommate since the reporter was hired to take over the Knights' media and PR department. It's an arrangement that has worked well for them, as they're not quite keen to share rooms with the younger staff members in their department, especially if they sometimes go out with the players after games.
Because it's a longer road trip, they have brought along more of their staff. For Christine, that means Ian, Peter, Miles, and Darcy, and for Betty that means her assistant physician, Gwen Stacy, and the team massage therapist, Cameron Klein. Other staff members on the trip include all the coaches, Carol and Bobbi, Victoria, Nick, Hank and his staff, and even Pepper. Needless to say, the plane has been packed.
Christine flops onto the bed with a sigh. "Is the day over yet?" she groans, throwing a hand over her eyes. Betty chuckles, carefully unpacking the clothes she needs for the day. The rest stays neatly stowed away in her suitcase since they'll be moving on to Vancouver tomorrow.
"You know the answer's always no until it's actually the end of the day."
"Ugh." Christine checks her watch. "Okay, I have to take advantage of this nap time before we get to the arena." Because while the players might have naptime after practice, there's no such thing for the staff. In fact, Hank and his crew have already gone ahead to Pym Arena to set up the guest locker room with all the equipment the team is going to need for practice and later, the game.
Betty quickly follows her example and lays down to sleep. On a road trip, one learns to fall asleep as quickly as possible, whenever possible. It's the only way to stay sane when you're dealing with countless flights and back-to-back games.
Hours later, Betty is at the arena and in one of the medical examination rooms with Gwen, Melinda, and Wade. Wade is sitting on the examination table in shorts and t-shirt, while Betty is sitting on a stool with Gwen hovering just behind her. Melinda stands just inside the door; her arms crossed and eyes intent on Betty's movements.
After a series of pokes, prods, and mild exercises, Betty sits back, eyebrows raised. This job just continues to surprise her. "Well, I thought you wouldn't be able to play until Seattle, but it looks like you'll be able to skate tonight, Wade," she proclaims.
"Really?" he says with glee.
"Really," she confirms with a smile.
He turns to Melinda. "Aw, can I, Coach? Pleeeeeeease?"
Melinda's lips just barely twitch. "Get suited up and we'll see how you do during the skate and practice," she decides. "And don't you even dare try to overdo it, Wilson. The last thing we need is for you to get injured again."
Wade hops off the examining table. "I got it, Coach!" And then he proceeds to pick up Betty and Gwen and swing them around, which is definitely not within Betty's definition of not overdoing things. Wade dodges around Melinda (he knows better than to do that to her, she can and will make him do Herbies) and takes off down the hallway, whooping wildly the entire way.
Gwen muffles her giggles behind a hand. "He's certainly lively."
"Lively is one word for it," Melinda drawls. She nods at them. "Thanks Betty, Gwen. Looks like I have to chat with Phil and Jasper again."
The next few hours are spent going over or, in Gwen's case, catching up on paperwork. Gwen's a new hire, straight from her residency, and Betty wants her to be familiar with the players' medical history before she tackles some of the bigger tasks, like performing physicals. So far, she's proven to be a levelheaded, no-nonsense person who is simultaneously completely not star-struck with the players but respectful of their ability. In Betty's opinion, it's a good balance to have. The last thing she needs is someone who is easily swayed by a player begging to get back on the ice, or intimidated by coaching staff.
Not that Melinda, Jasper, or Phil would ever do that. They know very well not to argue with Betty about those things – it was a sticking point during her job interview for the Knights.
"Thank you, Dr. Ross," Pepper said with a smile. "I think that concludes all of our question for the interview. Is there anything you would like to ask us?"
Betty chewed her bottom lip for a moment. Part of her was reluctant to bring it up, but she'd seen a number of horrible things working in the CHL and she didn't care if it cost her the job. This was where she had to make her stand. "Yes, I do, actually. How likely are you to listen to me when I say that a player needs to get off the ice and stay off the ice?"
Pepper, Melinda, and Nick exchanged glances, but it was all too quick for her to catch. "Would you care to elaborate on that question, Dr. Ross?" Melinda asks politely. "Perhaps provide some context so that we can understand?"
"It's just…I've had experiences when coaches have gone against my judgment before. I've said that players needed time off the ice to heal, but then they're either back in the game and playing or returning to practice much sooner than I'd recommended. Ninety five percent of the time this has resulted in further injury to the player." Betty can feel herself getting fired up now because those were teenagers – boys, really, and those injuries could have been avoided if someone had just listened to her. And some of the boys will never make the show because of complications. "If someone asks for my expert, medical opinion I expect it to be heeded, not for it to simply fly one ear and out the other. The health and safety of these players is my responsibility, and I take it very seriously. And if that's not taken seriously, then this is not the place for me."
She realized that her fingers have curled tightly around the arms of her chair, her nails digging into the soft padding. She flushed slightly. Dammit. She'd probably botched the interview – and she wants to work with the Knights. It seems somewhat controversial, since they've just fired her father, but she believes that Pepper Potts is exactly what the organization needs.
But this is the hill she'll die on. She got into sports medicine so that she could help athletes, not hurt them.
"On the contrary, Dr. Ross, I think this is exactly the place for you," Nick said solemnly, steepling his fingers in front of his face. Melinda was smiling, and Pepper was outright beaming.
"Exactly," Pepper announced with satisfaction. "We need someone who will think about the players first and will do whatever's necessary to keep them healthy."
"And I can promise you that there will be no pressure from me or my coaching staff, Dr. Ross," Melinda promised. "I would never, ever want my players to be out for so stupid a reason as not listening to the team doctor."
Betty smiled with relief. She'd heard so many good things about Melinda's coaching style, but it's another thing to have it confirmed. And for Pepper and Nick to approve as well…honestly, she can't think of anything better.
"I think it's safe to say that you're very welcome on the Knights, Dr. Ross."
Gwen makes a slight noise, directing Betty's attention back to the present. "Something interesting, Gwen?"
"Yes, I was just looking through Pietro Maximoff's notes. I didn't realize he's in the process of approval for receiving a diabetic assistance dog."
She nods. "They're in the process of choosing dogs now. I'm excited about it, actually." She'd been cautious when the team first drafted Maximoff, knowing full well that he had Type 1 diabetes, the dog trainers, and other doctors in the hockey community who had experience with the disease, she'd felt much better. "There's precedent for it, and an assistance dog will make it much easier for us to monitor his blood sugar levels."
Gwen smiles. "I had a friend in med school who had a diabetic assistance dog. She always said he was the best thing that could have happened to her, so I can imagine how it will be for Pietro."
Cameron knocks on the door and pokes his head in. "Hey docs, just letting you know I'm finished with my round here."
"Anything of note?" Betty asks.
He shakes his head. All of his curls are tucked beneath a Knights toque, so he must still be feeling the cold. "Some stiff muscles, nothing a little massage and then skating won't loosen up. Everyone seems to be in good shape." He grins. "Including Wade."
"And he'd better stay that way." Betty always has to give a talk at training camp, where she lets the players know that she has a zero tolerance policy when it comes to hiding injuries. If she even gets a whiff that someone is trying to hide something, they're out for at least a game, if not more depending on the actual injury. Melinda and the other staff are always quick to back her up, and Carol and Bobbi are especially helpful at pointing out little things that can rapidly escalate.
Luckily, the team veterans and leadership are also serious about following her instructions, and make sure that the rookies don't hurt themselves by pushing too hard, too fast. Under this kind of program, the Knights have boasted one of the healthiest rosters in the league.
Over lunch break, her phone rings and she smiles automatically at the name on the display, ducking out into the hallway. "Hello, Bruce."
"Hi Betty." The affection in his voice is clear, even over the fuzzy connection and the continent between them. "Have I caught you at a bad time?"
She leans against the wall, crossing one ankle in front of the other. "No, not at all. Gwen and I have just been going over some paperwork. Wade might actually skate tonight."
"Oh really?" He sounds wryly amused. "I bet you're thrilled about that."
"So long as he doesn't go right back to be injured." She sighs. "I miss you. How's New York?"
"Not as nice as it is when you're here."
His voice sparks a warm feeling in her stomach. She and Bruce had dated in college, when he was playing in the NCAA and she was in premed. Betty had sworn never to date a hockey player, and yet she'd fallen head over heels for him from day one. Perhaps it was because she'd never met a hockey player who would voluntarily choose physics as a major ("Goalie," Bruce had explained with a shrug). Or she'd never met anyone like Bruce, period.
Unfortunately, their romance hadn't lasted long once the Kings drafted him. It was too difficult with him in LA and her at Johns Hopkins, so their breakup had been a mutual decision. Betty had made sure to keep tabs on him from afar though, watching his rise and then his subsequent fall. She'd thought about reaching out to him, but she'd been so busy with her own career, and then he'd seemed to be doing just fine on his own coaching in the USHL.
But the Knights had brought them back together and for that she was unspeakably grateful. She'd come close to marrying someone else in the interim, but she'd come to realize Bruce was simply it for her. Luckily, he felt exactly the same way and they picked up right where they left off.
"But I'm probably warmer than you are," Bruce continues and she giggles because yes, he probably is. The arena doesn't seem to be heated at all, and she'd seriously contemplated wearing gloves in the office earlier.
"Shut up. Anyway, aren't you with the Riveters today?"
"I am." There's some static as he jostles the phone and suddenly she can hear a chorus of muffled feminine voices and the scrape of skates on the ice. "We're trying out some Stark tech today, so I have Jane and Skye with me. They say hello."
When the NWHL started, Pepper had been one of the first to contact Dani Rylan and offer any of her services for the New York team, provided the NHL was in agreement. Bruce is one of several members of staff who goes over to work with the Riveters when they're not working with the Knights. Bruce actually splits his time between the Knights, the Commandos, and the Riveters. It's the kind of work he loves, and he's been especially excited at the prospect of training goalies like Sharon Carter and Nana Fujimoto.
"Tell them I say hi back."
They chat a little while longer before Bruce is called back to work. Betty hangs up reluctantly. By virtue of who she is, she's with the team everywhere they go, which means that she'll go for days at a time without seeing him. It's difficult, but they both love their jobs and can't see themselves doing anything else. But they make it work, as does everyone who manages family, friends, and relationships in this business.
At least one thing can be said for the road trips: they make the homestands that much sweeter.
Honestly. She's going kill them, each and every one of them. It's not a game against any of their actual rivals, although the Knights did defeat the Wasps to win the Stanley Cup, so. Maybe she understands that kind of deep-seated anger and resentment.
Still, that doesn't mean she's going to like it when her players get hurt. Especially when it comes from something as avoidable as fighting. "Looks like you're going to have to go to the dentist. Again," she sighs, watching as Ben wiggles the tooth with his fingers. She holds out the plastic sample tub and winces as he pops it out and drops it in. She is so very glad she's not a dentist. Teeth, in her medical opinion, are gross.
"Maybe it's time for me to just get the rest yanked out, huh?" he muses. "Then I can just get a full set of dentures and I wouldn't have to wear them during games!"
"Man, no one's going to understand a damn thing you're saying without dentures!" Sam tells him, his own words slightly unintelligible around his mouthguard. Ben makes a thoughtful noise and Betty just rolls her eyes fondly, slipping the container into her first aid bag to give to him later. For all she knows, he has a shrine to all the teeth he's lost to hockey. Or maybe he sells it on eBay (though, knowing Matt and Jen, probably not).
Maria manages to tie it up for them with a beauty of a power play goal. Betty never gets tired of watching her skate. She'd gotten as far as middle school before she quit hockey, but she's been around the sport her entire life and she knows a generational player when she sees one. The Knights wouldn't have made it to the Stanley Cup without her.
Suddenly there's a roar, and everyone on the bench is on his or her feet. Betty cranes her neck around and – oh, Bucky is skating to the bench, bleeding from the chin. "Just a puck to the chin, doc, m'okay. Just rang my bell a little," he mumbles, coming straight up to Betty for inspection.
"Why don't you let me be the judge of that?" she asks skeptically. She nods at Melinda and Gwen, and then motions for Bucky to follow them back to the examining room.
Gwen takes over the examination, cleaning the blood from his chin. It's a jagged cut, and bleeding sluggishly, with some swelling around the entire area. She runs careful fingers over his jaw before eventually declaring, "No breaks or dislocations, it's just a cut."
Betty nods. Years of experience told her the same thing way back at the bench, but Gwen is the one in training. "Good. What would you recommend?"
"Local anesthetic, stitch and disinfect, give mild painkillers if needed, and send him back on the ice," Gwen says confidently. Bucky nods in agreement.
"Good. Then hop to it. I'll meet you back on the bench."
A few minutes later, Bucky swaggers out with a neat line of stitches on his chin. "What do you think, Nat? The scar will enhance my ruggedly good looks, eh?"
The redhead rolls her eyes. "Your face is already ugly, so why would a scar matter?" The bench erupts in laughter and Bucky pouts exaggeratedly until Melinda sends his line back onto the ice.
Things don't even bother slowing down after that. Betty and Gwen are back in the examining room during the second period intermission, this time with Scott, stripped down to his Under Armor shirt and boxers. He's lying on the table, one arm draped over his eyes and wincing with pain with every touch. Melinda is standing in the doorway once again, arms crossed and brow furrowed.
"It's a minor muscle contusion," Betty confirms. "Rest, ice, compression, and elevation, and he'll be fine for Vancouver."
"It doesn't feel minor," Scott complains. All three women wince in sympathy because the injury could have been much, much worse. Scott had gone in hard towards the net, trying to nab a rebound, then lost his footing and slammed into the post. The pain had been so intense he'd had to be helped off the ice.
"He can't make it worse though, right?" Melinda queries. "Since it's just a bruise?"
"Well, no," Betty admits, knowing where this is going and hating it, but… "Provided that he doesn't collide with the post. Or the boards. Or someone doesn't crash into him or slash him right there." Really, there are about a million ways it could go wrong. But at the end of the day, he won't hurt himself more by just playing. "He will be in a lot of pain if he does play," she cautions.
Scott removes his arm from his eyes and is looking at Melinda curiously. "Coach?" he ventures.
She holds up a hand. "Quiet. I'm debating the merits of keeping you in versus taking you out."
Scott is a veteran. He's seasoned enough to know to read his body's signals and when to take a rest. He is, however, still a professional athlete and would be more than willing to go out and play if Melinda asks that of him.
Finally, she exhales. "I need you better for Vancouver and Seattle more than I need you to play out the rest of tonight, Scott. Take the rest, all right? I'll just make sure that the other centers can cover your line."
He nods, somewhat relieved, and drops his head back to the examining table. "Will do, Coach."
Betty nods at Gwen to start the treatment and follows Melinda out. "Ben's tooth, Bucky's face, and now Scott's leg…I really don't like this arena. It's also too damn cold," Melinda grumbles.
"Careful, wouldn't want to jinx anything," she responds with a slight smile. But this has certainly been one of her busiest nights this year…and they haven't even faced the Serpents yet.
Despite keeping Scott out, the Knights manage to maintain their lead in the third period. Steve, Maria, and Bobby, as the remaining centers, have to be exhausted by splitting their responsibilities between two lines, but they rise to the challenge and it's not like they haven't practiced or even played scenarios like this before.
The minutes are winding down and the Knights are that close to taking the win when it happens. Logan, of all people, takes a hit from behind and goes full-speed into the boards, head first.
For the first few breathless seconds, he doesn't move. Betty immediately signals that the arena medical staff needs to get out onto the ice, stat, and then she's jumping over the boards herself to get to him. Every step of the way, she prays that it's not a concussion, but he's not moving-
But then his legs twitch and Betty's shoving players out of the way. "Logan, can you hear me? It's Dr. Ross." She motions for Gwen to help her carefully roll him over so that she can start checking him over. "Logan, do you know where you are?"
He stirs, blinking at the flashlight as she checks pupil response. "Doc?" he mumbles. "M'okay. Just gotta-"
"Go to the hospital and get checked out, yes," Betty cuts in because she never, ever takes chances with concussions.
Logan regains enough of his faculties to start arguing the moment they get him into the ambulance. "Doc, I don't need this!" he growls. "I can sit out the rest of the game-"
"You know better than to argue with me, Logan Howlett," Betty says evenly, watching with an eagle eye as the paramedics check him over. "This is for your own good, so if you even want a chance at playing the next game you will let these nice people do their jobs and do the same for me."
Logan's known her since she came to the team, so he does know a losing battle when he sees one. Still, it doesn't stop him from protesting because he's, well, Logan. "But doc, the concussion testing is-"
"It's not a picnic for me either, Logan, but I'll be damned if I have a Sidney Crosby or Jonathan Toews on my hands," she snaps back. She'd been absolutely bewildered and furious during those incidents. It is completely beyond her how a team's medical staff could allow something so serious to just slide under their noses – but then again, she has her doubts about the entire Penguins' medical staff since they allowed seemingly half the team to contract the goddamn mumps.
Still, the league got its act together and today the concussion protocols are extensive enough to make even someone as picky as Betty happy. But she still resigns herself to several hours of testing, and texts Christine to just make sure that she takes her stuff to the airplane tomorrow. Logan will probably be fine, but she's going to keep him in the hospital (and her, by extension), just to be on the safe side.
Just another day on the job, she thinks wearily as they pull up in front of the emergency room entrance. But she wouldn't change a goddamn thing.
Please review!
Again, I am decidedly not a doctor (not that kind, and not yet, haha), so all medical errors are entirely my own. Arizona Coyotes' rookie Max Domi does have a diabetic assistance dog named Orion, so that's definitely true to life.
Thanks to lawgeeks for betaing, as always!
