A/N: Y'all…wow. This has been the absolute longest I've gone without posting, and I'm so sorry. I'd love to give you some great excuse, but the fact is, it's just been busy-ness and lack of motivation to do ANYTHING when I'm off. But I'm vowing right now that I will not let this happen again!

So! For our preview, Adam and Lacey return from their romantic trip to Switzerland over Christmas break only to be smacked in the face by their first serious challenge as a couple–all as a result of Adam's obsession with being The Best. As if that isn't bad enough, Lacey's own mental health issues are triggered, and it leaves her wondering how they can navigate this season of their relationship. Prepare to descend into the darkness, Guys!

/*/*/

"Play with Fire" - Sam Tinnesz

(Imagining him soar across the ice!)

The promise ring excitement was not at all forgotten by Lacey, but it was quickly pushed to the backburner as her last semester of community college began. She found herself working overtime to get all the paperwork done for her first term at UM, which was coming up quicker than she'd anticipated.

She sorely missed Adam and his quick, efficient way of sorting through these details, but he was neck-deep, of course, in hockey. This was the peak of the season, and he was, per usual, throwing himself into it full force. He had even missed a couple of their chat sessions on AOL, which surprised and dismayed Lacey at first, but she had to remind herself this was to be expected for his junior season. Even so, her old resentments began to rise and, after he missed their third chat session and he made a hurried phone call to her later in the night apologizing, she almost decided not to go to the game at the end of January he'd bought her a ticket to come see.

But no. She loved him, and she would support him, just as he did her in spite of her constant flairs of anxiety and hair pulling.

When she got into the airport on the designated day, she was pleasantly surprised to see that, instead of calling her a cab which she fully expected on the day of the game, he had come to meet her with a big smile and a bouquet of the most beautiful roses of the season. But when she stepped over to throw her arms around him, he laughed and lifted the bouquet slightly so she couldn't crush it, which caused her to notice just how thin he'd become.

Sure, he was gloriously fit. But he had also lost at least fifteen pounds. "Adam…" she whispered. It was all she could manage.

"Hmm?" He still held her close, inhaling the scent of the shampoo she knew he loved.

"How much weight have you lost?"

Adam went quiet a moment before letting her go and taking a step back. "What do you mean? I guess I've lost a little, but practices are tough. I told you it would get worse every year."

"Have you been eating?"

"Sure," he shrugged. "Not as much, because I've been packing in alot of whey protein shakes. Which is still healthy," he tacked on. "I'm working on lean muscle mass so I'll be able to move even more quickly on the ice. You know how I lost some of my speed since RA."

His eyes looked tired and slightly glassy. Lacey had promised she would trust him, and she aimed to now. But it was so very hard to do when she knew he wasn't taking good care of himself, yet she just had to sit and watch him sacrifice his body to a game. Before she could say anything else, however, he leaned in to whisper, "Let's go back to my room. I have a little bit of time before I have to be back out on the ice. And I could use a pre-game pick-me-up if you know what I mean…"

Lacey smiled, thinking if she could actually do something for him, even something like that, she would. Besides, it wasn't like she didn't want to.

An hour later, she rested against him, feeling his heart pound in the aftermath of their union. "Lacey Primmer…"

"Hmm?" Lacey attempted to catch her breath, having given herself fully to him for the first time in weeks.

"Let it go on record that you're the love of my life."

She felt her heart blossom to flowering as she smiled down at him, feeling drowsy. "And you know you're mine."

Suddenly some lyrics to "Buddy Holly" popped into her head for how similar they were to what she'd just said, and Adam apparently thought the same thing as he peered up at her, brows raised. They both chuckled as Lacey fondly recalled the night they sped down the freeway in Adam's Porsche, singing the song at the top of their lungs.

She finally rolled off of him, collapsing onto the bed as he closed his eyes. They laid that way awhile before Lacey sat up, tracing a finger down the sloped bridge of his nose with her finger. Call it weird, but it was one of her favorite nuances of his face. "Don't you think you need to get going? You said you need to be there at five, right?"

"Mm hmm." But his eyes remained closed.

Lacey smirked. "Maybe it wasn't such a great idea to do this before a big game."

"It's supposed to invigorate you. Or that's what the guys say, not that I've ever had the luxury of finding out until now."

"And did it work?" she inquired ruefully.

"...Well, I'll at least say I'm not any more tired than I was, and even if so, it was totally worth it." He opened his eyes, smiling. "But I can't say I feel an energy surge. Hmm."

"Didn't think so."

"Okay, well," he took a deep breath and heaved himself up. "I have to do this. Second line center doesn't bail."

Lacey sat up, watching him pull himself together as she thought about the pressure carried by his words. Who could sustain practicing and playing so hard, yet still study, and all on such little energy?

"Why are you staring?" He gave a quick laugh as he threw on a sweatshirt and track pants for his trip to the rink.

Lacey nearly said something, but would sound like a nag, so she just shook her head. "Thinking how smoking hot you are," she improvised, trying to fix her face.

"Well, there's enough of that for tonight after the game," Adam winked, grabbing his bag. "And we can go to dinner. Or play Zelda. Whatever you like." He hesitated before heading for the door and came over to give her a quick forehead kiss. "You remember how to get down to Jay Steet, right? And you have your pepper spray? Try to walk in crowds and stay close to the streetlamps."

There had recently been a sexual assault on the campus of NYU, the first in years, which had prompted Adam to purchase Lacey a pepper spray canister for when she visited. The crime had really rattled him as, if there was one thing Lacey had learned bothered Adam above all, it was assaults on women. One would think it rarely happened as much as it seemed to shock and surprise him when they caught reports of it on the news together. So Lacey had humored him when he presented her with the self-defense item before leaving home to come back to school, even though she wasn't inordinately concerned.

"Got it in my bag," she assured.

"Don't keep it in your bag, because that could be the first thing they take. Put it in your pocket."

"It's so huge! How can I do that and not look suspicious?"

"Maybe you'll look like you're carrying a gun. Even better. Okay, and so after you take the escalator down, Tessa will be waiting for you. Remember she ha–"

"-Has bright red hair with purple bangs and will be carrying an orange and purple "GO VIOLETS' sign,' yes I remember. First of all, I can't wait to see what red hair and purple bangs look like on an actual person, and secondly, you've told me fifty times. I promise I've got this." She smiled up at him. "Remember the one Valentine's Day I managed to come, find your game, watch you play, then make it all the way back here to surprise you wearing the lingerie you pulled off me in about 2.5 seconds?"

Adam blushed. "Yes, I recall all of those things vividly. Now I'd better go before I decide not to."

Lacey shook her head as he hurried out the door, then crawled out of his nice warm bed to shower, pull her hair into a ponytail, and throw on her NYU Violets sweatshirt and jeans. He hadn't exactly given her alot of a window between when he left and when she was due to meet up with Tessa at the subway on Jay Street, so she walked and fastened her hoops in her ears at the same time.

Tessa was apparently not a team girlfriend, but a journalism major who shared an economics class with Adam and was a big fan of Violets' hockey. She was on a rotation of writers for the school newspaper who cranked out articles during the hockey season about the biggest games and hottest players. This was how she'd put "Violets' Banks" and "Economics Adam" together in her mind, and had accosted him one afternoon as they left class, trying to arrange for an interview.

"I really didn't want to because you know I don't like those things, but I figured if I did, I could have her do me a solid and get you to the rink and back," Adam had told her on the phone last night. "I said you'd be nice to her, so don't prove me wrong. You don't want her calling you rude on the front page of a college newspaper."

Lacey had made a face. "Because that's exactly what I've spent my whole life avoiding."

"Well, and I guess something else is," he'd added in a serious tone, "she's always by herself, and I don't think it's because she wants to be. This may be New York, but even in a big open place like this, there are people who are snubbed."

She thought it very noble of Adam to try to look after both her and another girl all at the same time, but Lacey had to admit, she wasn't necessarily eager to spend the evening with some hockey-obsessed fan of her boyfriend's. Still though, she was grateful as she'd had to give up on navigating last year on Valentine's weekend and just call a cab. It was a literal maze out there and she could use an escort.

It only took a couple of minutes walking from University Hall to the Jay Street station, and as she descended the escalator, sure enough, among the throngs of people, Lacey caught sight of the NYU Violets sign being held up high. It took her a minute to disembark the escalator and then weave her way in and out of the crowd to finally connect with the girl.

While technically right about Tessa's bright red hair and purple bangs, Adam had failed to represent to Lacey exactly how…well…awesome it looked. The girl wore a pixie-cut, which not just anyone could pull off, her unusual side-swept bangs tinted purple in just one jagged streak across her forehead. The effect played well against her black-rimmed glasses. Beyond that, however, she wouldn't have stuck out in the crowd. She wore a plain pair of jeans with a purple hooded sweatshirt.

"Hi," Lacey smiled upon approaching. "Tessa?"

"LACEY!" A boisterous giggle accompanied the proclamation. "Hi, I'm so glad you saw me standing here! I was like, 'I wonder if she'll notice me better if I stand here, or over there'? And then I thought maybe I should stand there," she pointed to a third place, "because that would be a better view from the escalator if you'd been looking there."

Tessa continued to point animatedly in directions Lacey could never hope to follow quickly enough with her eyes. "Chatty" was certainly accurate. But the girl had a slight lisp that was charming, and her eagerness to be hospitable warmed Lacey to her.

"Right, well…" Lacey tried to think of a good way to reply to all that. "I did see you, so good job picking where you stood."

"Oh no problem! It's sooo good to meet you! So you and Adam met in high school?" Tessa immediately began walking, and Lacey had to hurry to keep up with her.

"Um, yeah, we did, actually."

"He's a really great guy," Tessa gushed, heading straight for the ticket machine and waving off Lacey's attempts to dig out some change. "This one's on me!"

"Thank you," Lacey replied hesitantly, looking around as she tried to remember what to do here from her last visit to New York. She wished she would have just done what she did last time and called a cab to take her to the arena. It was so much easier.

"Anyway," Tessa continued her chatter as she mechanically went through the motions of pushing buttons on the ticket machine and feeding it cash. "He's quiet as a mouse. Just comes into class, does his thing, and leaves. But he's polite, and he looks so…I don't know, confident! You're a lucky girl."

Tickets in hand, Tessa handed Lacey hers and led her to the turnstyle. "Just put your ticket in…there! Perfect."

After they were through the line, they headed for the platform as Tessa continued to talk. "And on the ice, he's phenomenal! He told me I could have an interview with him if I helped escort you to the game, which, don't get me wrong, I'd have done it anyway," she flashed a thousand-watt smile to Lacey. "But I've been writing down questions…"

Tessa paused her endless stream of words as the subway sailed down the tracks to meet them. She and Lacey hustled to get on as quickly as possible, finding pretty good seats close to the front of the car.

"So," Lacey interrupted Tessa finally. "Where are you from?"

"Oh, Albany," Tessa gave a breezy answer. "Not too far. My goal is to become a reporter for the New York Times. Gotta work my way up, but that's where I'm headed."

"My best friend wants to be a journalist," Lacey smiled. "She's doing community college right now like I am. Not sure where she'll transfer to."

"And what about you?" Tessa turned a bit to face her.

"I want to go into social work," Lacey replied confidently, unable to ignore the pride that crept into her voice. "I'm not sure what kind yet–"

"What about Adam?" Tessa interrupted eagerly. This girl clearly nursed a huge crush.

"I'm not sure, actually. He wants to go pro, but after that, who knows?" If Tessa was about to do an interview with Adam, Lacey figured it wasn't necessary for her to tell his future plans. But the NHL dream was hardly a secret.

"Oh he'll make it, easy." Tessa beamed as their stop came, and she and Lacey hustled to exit the subway. Tessa continued to talk about hockey, the newspaper at NYU, and just about everything else, but Lacey could barely hear her as she fought to concentrate on where the other girl was leading her. They emerged onto 14th Street, then walked one mile, Tessa chattering all the way until they reached Chelsea Piers Sky Rink. Tonight's game was against Boston University, and it looked like half of New York had shown up to watch the action. This surprised Lacey, as she had previously assumed only Minnesotans and Canadians were this obsessed with hockey.

"I should get a great scoop tonight. It'll be an engaging game for sure," Tessa prattled on. "You want to sit together, right?"

Lacey cringed. There was nothing she'd like less. But she remembered what Adam had said about the misfit girl, and she wanted to do her best to be friendly. So she nodded. "Sure thing."

It took about another half hour to weave through the crowds to purchase tickets and find seats. By the time she and Tessa had managed that, the game was about to start. Her eyes for Number Thirty-Seven, Adam's NYU Violets number. Lacey often found herself still searching for Ninety-Nine. She just managed to locate him as he was skating slowly back to the bench with his teammates.

"Do you enjoy hockey, too?" Tessa inquired pleasantly, cross-legged with a notepad, obviously ready to start taking notes for her article.

"Yeah, but definitely didn't used to," Lacey answered honestly.

"What changed that?" Tessa tapped her pencil against her chin, causing Lacey to pause.

"You're not including me in this article, are you?" She laughed.

"Oh!" Tessa returned the laugh, bashfully. "No no, I'd ask you for your permission, first. I don't stand for dirty journalism. I'm just interested." As a show of faith, she tucked her pencil behind her ear.

"Well, I guess Adam did."

"Was he the first hockey player you dated?"

Lacey hesitated. Somehow it almost felt that way, as disengaged from the sport as she'd been during her year with Max. "Oh, um, no. I dated a guy before him that played hockey, too. I just didn't…" she thought how to phrase it, "...I didn't understand the gameplay as much then I guess. Hey, it looks like they're about to start."

"Oh!" Tessa's attention was turned from her to the ice, and Lacey breathed a sigh of relief.

Thus commenced a tough, neck-at-neck game. The Boston Terriors were a formidable team, and the Violets' first line was wrung out like a dishcloth in record time. Second line then took their place on the ice. Adam headed to the center of the rink to face off against the opposing team, his movements looking, from Lacey's vantage point, relaxed and confident. The tension otherwise, however, was palpable. She watched as Boston's goalie tapped the posts in preparation to do his best work. Lacey had always thought the move looked a bit like a Catholic crossing themselves, and wondered if the goalie was praying a prayer just as earnestly.

The action moved swiftly after the face-off. Adam's quick reflexes gained him the puck as he passed it off to the right wingman. He was right–college hockey was a lot more brutal than high school hockey, and Lacey cringed at the hard hits. Adam gave the hell back, though, and didn't hold himself off fighting an all-out war to keep the Violets in control of the game. As he soared across the ice, changing directions on a dime, Lacey marveled at how much farther his skill had advanced since just last year. He fought like a lion, and it paid off when he managed to score the first goal of the game. The Violets' cause was further helped by their superb netminder who deftly blocked every single shot the Terriers took.

But soon, Lacey became distracted from the game. She could tell Adam was wearing out. There was an almost imperceptible change in speed, and each time he returned to the bench, he took off his helmet and rubbed his forehead in a way that wasn't familiar.

"He's tired," Tessa observed between scribbling on her notepad.

"Yeah, he is."

Lacey kept her eyes trained on him every second she could from then on out, standing up when he left her line of sight to try to find him. She glanced back over at Tessa, trying to think of how to distract the girl from speculating on Adam's worsening condition. "Sports writing's got to be hard. You must have to enjoy it."

Tessa looked up with a bashful smile after jotting down another couple of notes. "Actually, I don't enjoy it at all. I was never an athlete in school. It's just that in order to pull myself up the chain, I have to pretty much take what they offer me. And they needed a sports writer," she shrugged. "But hockey happens to be one of the few sports I've kinda come to like."

Lacey opened her mouth to speak again before she heard a collective gasp from the stands. Some people were standing up to get a better view of something.

"-appears to have fainted on the home team bench," she heard the announcer saying. "Seems it's number thirty-seven, Adam Banks."

Lacey froze. "What?!" She turned to Tessa for some type of answer, but the other girl shook her head, eyes wide.

Acting fast, she was on her feet, pushing through the crowds in the stands until she was in front of the plexiglass enclosure. Sure enough, Adam had fallen off the bench and was staring up, eyes half-opened, at his coach who knelt beside him, speaking frantically. But before Lacey could see anything else, the rest of the team obscured her view. Lacey looked around and spotted the discreet, low gate leading to the bench, and without thinking she pushed her way inside and through the cluster of huge hockey players who leaned over her boyfriend. She ignored the sweaty pad stench as she reached him, kneeling at his side.

"Who are you?," the coach asked, bewildered, as he stood up straight. "You can't be in here."

"I'm his girlfriend," Lacey replied in what she hoped was a firm enough tone. "And I'm not going anywhere." She looked down. "Adam, what happened?"

"Are you Lacey?," a player's baritone voice interrupted, but she ignored it.

"I just…" Adam began, but didn't continue, resting his head back on the ground again and closing his eyes.

"Dude's exhausted." The guy with shaggy hair and an unshaven face with fuzzy jowls answered from across the boards. His uniform identified him as the goalie, and he held his helmet under his arm. "He's been working way too hard."

No one else tried to remove Lacey from the bench, but she finally moved on her own when an emergency unit arrived with a stretcher to transport Adam to Tisch hospital.

Not this again, she wanted to moan, heart hammering.

"It's okay, I'm okay," Adam murmured, opening his eyes long enough to regard the EMT's who stood over him. But his protests did nothing against the people who were determined to transport him to the emergency room.
Lacey could barely remember what was said to her at that point or how Tessa found her, but the girl hailed a cab after pulling her, still in a stupor, out onto the sidewalk in front of the ice rink once they made their way through the crowds. She held Lacey's shoulder the whole time as though holding her up, and for once, the girl was quiet.

"Do you want me to go with you?" Tessa inquired in an appropriately slower voice to a stunned Lacey as the cab slowed to a stop.

"I think I'm okay. I'm fine," Lacey replied, just wanting to get to the hospital as quickly as she could and not have to deal with company. "Thank you…" she murmured apologetically.

"Here's my number." Before she knew it, Tessa had pulled up her hand and was writing something in a pen she'd just pulled out of…her bra? "Call me if you get confused or need me to come help you. Okay?"

Lacey nodded. She got into the cab, shutting the door as the cabbie turned to slide open the partition window. "Tisch Hospital, please. As quickly as you can get there."

"Where at?"

"Um…" Lacey wondered if she'd gotten the name right, and tried again, uncertainty. "Tisch Hospital…?

"Where at?" the cabbie repeated, a little louder.

Lacey felt ready to cry. "It's called Tisch Hospital, I'm pretty sure. I just need to get there."

"Yeah," the cab driver replied in his thick New York accent. "I got it, just, where d'you wanna go there? It's a big place, I gotta know where you wanna be let out."

Trying to calm down, Lacey finally focused on the question. Of course this cab driver would have no idea which part of the hospital she was going to, and as for seeing an ambulance leave the rink, he'd probably seen ten of those just in the last three minutes he'd been sitting here. He couldn't know what she was thinking. And as far as that went, Lacey realized she'd have to dial down the emotion and pay attention to her surroundings and what she was doing. This wasn't like all the times before when Adam could escort her around New York City or tell her where to go. In Minneapolis, even, her mom and Stuart had always done that. Lacey had no real experience navigating a stressful situation in the real world without the presence of another person.

But now, she'd have to try.

"Um…" she closed her eyes. "I just need the emergency department. I don't know where that is. My boyfriend's being taken there by ambulance."

"Perelman Center. Got it." And with that, the driver gunned the gas.

Breathe In…2…3…4…

Hold…2…3…4…

Out…2…3…4…

Lacey sifted through her mental bag of tricks, trying this and that to see what worked for keeping her calm and focused. If one thing didn't, the next thing might. She had to figure it out, because it was down to her. Not only was she alone here, Adam was too. His parents, like hers, were in another state. She needed to stay strong for him and help them both steer through the situation.

It took way longer than she hoped it would, but finally, after pulling onto the hospital campus, the cab wound its way around various loops in the road and finally pulled through an overhang, parking in front of a set of wide sliding doors.

Lacey handed the cab fare up, hoping she'd tipped generously enough–she had little idea what was standard for cabbies–then exited the vehicle, taking a deep breath to prepare herself for what would await after she rushed inside.

/*/*/*/

"He what?!"

Lacey could hear Yvette's breath stop on the other end of the line.

"He's here at the hospital, but everything's okay. The doctor says it's just exhaustion. He's been working too hard," Lacey tried to reassure the woman. "He collapsed after second line when he made it back to the bench, and told the doctor he just felt really dizzy and couldn't hold himself up any more."

Yvette cursed, using a word that caused Lacey to stand up straighter, having never imagined it coming from Adam's sunny mom. "I knew this was going to happen. I told Phil just yesterday, 'He's on the warpath.' This damn going pro thing is going to cost him dearly if he doesn't snap out of it."

Lacey only nodded, not that Yvette could see her. She couldn't agree more, especially when Adam had been rushed to the hospital, scaring her to death before she found out his current condition was mostly due to too much strenuous training without enough nutrition to back it.

"Let's go a little easier on the off-ice training and the protein shakes, all right Buddy?" The doctor had flippantly patted Adam's bad shoulder after telling the nurse to run a certain amount more fluids in him before discharging him back home to rest and take care of himself. He had at least gone through the trouble of signing a note for Adam to be excused from classes for the next three days and practices and games for the next week.

Lacey was glad the news wasn't worse, but she felt angry. Not at the doctor, despite his dismissive attitude, but frankly at Adam. Before he could speak a word to her after the doctor left the room, she muttered the excuse of needing to call his parents before slipping out and taking a long walk through the halls.

"So rest from practices and games, and he needs to eat. Like, EAT eat, food. Anything else?" Yvette was inquiring.

"No," Lacey replied after thinking for a moment. "I guess that's really all a doctor can do. Now it's up to him to do what he says. I'll do my best to encourage him. I'll be here through Sunday, though…" she wavered slightly. "Maybe I should sit out my Monday classes to be sure he's really okay before I come home."

"Lacey, don't you dare. And that's a Mom Order, whether I'm yours or not," Yvette lectured. "You've got your own school to prioritize, and Adam can take care of himself. It isn't like he needs actual help doing what the doctor says to do, which is just to rest. Trust me, if it were anything else, I'd be flying out there right now. He'll be okay. Come home when you originally planned, all right? Gosh, two days of solid relaxation will probably perk him up. I don't know when he last had that."

"I don't either," Lacey cradled the pay phone on her shoulder as she rubbed her cold arms. Why did they always keep temperatures so low in hospitals?

"And have him call me in the morning if he feels like it. Take care of yourself, Love."

Lacey hung up her call with Yvette and took another lap around the inside of the emergency building before turning to head back toward Adam's room with a cup of coffee. She was sure he could tell how frustrated she was, though he had been much too tired to address it. But sooner or later they would definitely have to talk about what had happened.

Just apparently not right now. Lacey nearly spilled her coffee when she rounded the corner into his room and saw a huge bear of a guy standing next to his bed. After a second, she recognized him as the Violets' goalie she had encountered earlier. Fuzzy Jowls was talking animatedly as Adam listened with rapt attention.

"-Creamed 'em in that last period, bro. You should've seen–" the guy looked up then and saw Lacey. "Oh, pardon!" He grinned, displaying an endearing gap between his front teeth. "Lacey, right?"

"Right," Lacey fixed her face into a polite smile, going to set her coffee on Adam's overbed table so she could hold out her hand.

The jovial guy took it, practically crushing it as he pumped it up and down. "Paul Morrigan. Violets' Goaltender. But everybody just calls me Morrigan."

Lacey thought immediately of Portman and Fulton, who would have loved this guy right from the start, as did she.

"Hi. Um…thank you for coming."

"It was good of him," Adam spoke up from his hospital bed, "especially since I made a spectacle of myself and caused the whole game to lose momentum."

"Naw, man, I told you, don't worry about it! We got it back. I mean we won, didn't we?" Morrigan reminded Adam cheerfully before turning back to Lacey. "This guy wins his fair share of 'em for us, too. A sophomore, and he can play circles around everybody. He deserves a break."

"Are you a sophomore too?" Lacey tried to show interest in this guy who apparently had been a good friend to Adam.

"A junior," Morrigan answered. "So Banksie and I still have another year to put up with each other, don't we?"

Adam looked up at Morrigan and gave him a fond half-smile. Lacey, however, grinned as she realized Adam's team nickname from his Ducks days had managed to follow him to NYU.

"All right, I'll let you get some rest." Morrigan looked toward the door. "And don't worry about Coach Stiles. Take the time you need."

Adam nodded. "I will. Thanks for coming."

"Anytime, my dude, any time." Morrigan leaned down to high-five Adam, who tiredly responded in kind. He then turned back to Lacey. "Good to finally meet you, too. Trust me. We know where we rank in the scheme of things when 'Lacey' comes to visit."

Lacey felt her cheeks warm. "Nice to meet you. And thanks."

When Morrigan had safely exited, Lacey turned back to Adam, realizing she had no idea what she wanted to say to him or where to start. It was only the second time she'd felt distant from him since they'd begun dating, the first being during their argument last year–over, of course, hockey.

Adam met her eyes for a moment before glancing away. And she knew instantly that he felt ashamed he'd let the situation get so out of control.

Lacey took a few steps toward the hospital bed, the anger in her heart beginning to disintegrate. She then spoke the first words that came to her lips, those that were most important. "Adam, I love you."

He laid his head back against his pillow, closing his eyes and sighing. "I know, Lacey. And I'm…I'm sorry. I should have listened to you. You saw this coming long before I did."

Pulling a chair over beside the hospital bed, she sat down and took his hand. "You are more important than a game you may or may not be playing in ten years," she spoke plainly.

Adam didn't reply, instead turning his eyes to stare up at the ceiling. But she could tell he listened.

"And I know that even when you have trouble seeing it," she continued. "But the problem is, I can't make you slow down. I can't make you eat actual meals. I can't do anything except stand helplessly by and watch. Do you remember what this stands for?"

Lacey pulled her hand away from Adam's just long enough to hold it up, the crystal clear aquamarine sparkling on her finger.

He peered over at her finally, studying the ring.

"This means you promise to have me in your life for as long as you can foresee. And if that's true…" Lacey felt tears well up in her eyes as she broke off. "If that's true, you'll trust some things that I say. I love how you love hockey. It's part of who you are. But it's not all of who you are, and I'm here to remind you of that when you forget."

Turning his eyes from the ring to her face, Adam's expression melted into realization as he reached his other hand up to take hers, pressing it gently between both of his and squeezing warmth back into it, which she greatly appreciated given how cold it was. "Lacey, I didn't mean to be reckless. And I didn't mean to put you in the spot I've had you in for the last year and a half. I swear I'll be more careful. I know how your anxiety is, and the last thing I want to do is make it worse. I've given you a lot of reason to worry."

"You sure have," Lacey used her other hand to wipe away tears, but smiled at Adam. "But only because you're the sweetest thing in my life. And I need you to take care of yourself. For me, if not for you."

Adam watched her a moment before finally nodding. "I will. I'll do better."

"So before I go back, I want you to rest as much as possible," Lacey leveled her eyes at him. "Don't worry about entertaining me, because I'm a big girl and you've got movies. But I'd like us to at least go to the grocery store and buy something besides whey powder for you to sustain yourself on. Plus there's also the restaurants on campus, and I know you can find something there if you try, Mr. Picky-pants."

He chortled. "Okay, I know."

"And. How often are you going to the gym outside of the Army drilling you get at the rink?"

Adam thought for a moment. "I run every day unless it's snowing or there's too much of it, then I go to the gym and run uphill on the treadmill."

"Is that really necessary?" Lacey rested her chin against the bed rail, suddenly feeling tired. "I mean Adam, you can outrun anything and outskate your whole team. I'd say you get plenty of 'cardio,' as you call it."

"But I need the weight room," he spoke up resolutely. "Building muscle is a non-negotiable."

"Okay, fine. Weight room, but not every single day. And for God's sake, SLEEP!"

"All right. I've got enough rules to follow for one hockey season," he squeezed her hand.

Adam and Lacey were at the emergency room for another three hours before Adam was finally discharged. By then, they had both fallen asleep. Deciding to forego the gymnastics she'd had to go through to lay in bed with him during his last hospitalization, she opted this time to simply rest her head on him while she sat in her chair. When they finally left holding a bill that seemed way too big just for a person to receive fluids and good counsel, they took a cab back to his dorm.

It was while they were laying together that night that Lacey had her first nightmare in months.

She watched proudly as Adam, with his hockey stick, soared across the old Hawks' rink. He looked so free and so sure of himself, passing by the other players, only wisps in Lacey's mind in the way supporting characters of a dream often are. But soon, his speed slowed, and he was only barely moving, his shoulders slumping like he couldn't hold them up another minute. She was the only one in the stands, so she stood, running down a set of endless bleacher steps. All the while, Adam had begun to skate back toward her, taking his helmet off to reveal very clearly that his eyes were glassy and bloodshot.

Lacey didn't think she would ever finish running down steps, but she pressed harder. Finally she reached Adam, reaching out to take his hand to pull him off the ice. He reached back for her before suddenly pulling back, his hand flying to his mouth as he bent over coughing uncontrollably. Lacey came up beside him, walking him back toward the bleachers as his coughing was growing much worse. But just before he reached them, she saw blood drip down and spread out across the ice, having slipped through his fingers.

"Adam," she reached up to swipe tears. "You've got to see a doctor. Come on…"

But he slumped to the ice, face-up and Lacey had a full, horrifying view of his closed eyes and the blood that stained his mouth.

"Adam?!" she knelt down on the ice beside him, shaking him hard. "Adam!"

Lacey shook herself awake and immediately rolled over to be sure Adam was breathing. Sure enough, she saw the rise and fall of his chest, heard him snoring softly.

She worked both arms around his torso and held him tightly. This was not only because she wanted to be as close to him as possible after such a harrowing dream. It was also to keep her hands from twisting into fists over thick strands of hair.

"Adam, please, please be careful," she found herself whispering.

"Mmm," he murmured in reply, not fully rousting. And she surely didn't intend for him to. She could be assured that, at least on her watch, he was going to thrive.

/*/*/*/

Adam may have been ordered to rest that weekend–and he did–but he and Lacey still managed to have a good time watching loads of movies, eating snacks Adam would usually swear off, and generally goofing off. He called his parents to reassure them he was okay, and Lacey called Tessa to thank her once again for her help Friday night.

"Did Adam give you a date yet for an interview?" Tessa made sure to throw in there before she and Lacey hung up.

"No, I'm sorry. He may need to hold off on that for awhile. But I'm sure he'll get back to you about it very soon," Lacey assured the girl, rolling her eyes at Adam as she spoke.

Tessa was clearly persistent enough to do just about anything The New York Times wouldasked of her.

On Sunday, it was time to go home, and Lacey truly didn't want to. But Adam assured her the exhaustion scare was a wake up call for him, and he would continue on making the changes they'd talked about.

"Good, because I might need Morrigan's number to check up on things if I start having suspicions." She winked before their goodbyes, then boarded the plane holding the flowers he'd presented her with just two days ago.

Back in Minnesota, life went on as usual. Stuart had come to a decision about the business he wanted to start: repurposing old furniture people left out in their yards for either someone to pick up or the trash truck to junk.

"Stuart, how can you do that? It's alot of maneuvering and heavy lifting. I mean, I hate to be the one to bring it up, but is your prosthetic up to the challenge?" Lacey inquired, skeptical of the idea.

"Trust me, I've already talked to him. It's no good," her mom sang out as she took her eclairs out of the oven–or rather, Yvette's.

"Aye, t'would be. Tis why Davy's goin' to 'elp me," he announced, proudly. "McBrayer & Son Furniture." No' very original, bu' functional all th' same."

Davy, since graduating high school, had been a bit of a lost sheep. He hadn't wanted to go to college, and Lacey suspected it was because he'd been diagnosed with a learning disability in elementary school. High school had been hard enough for him, and once that was behind him, he was finished with traditional education. But everything else he'd tried his hand at that was any kind of respectable career choice had failed. He'd decided against construction, tried to go to community college to get a certificate in heat and air conditioning but found the technicalities too confusing, and even did landscaping over the summer before his boss told him his mowing made the grass look like a crooked haircut. Someone even made the mistake of telling Davy he would do well in the funeral industry because of his ability to make people smile. Her stepbrother wasn't necessarily excited about trying this one, but he was open to anything at that point, so he entered an apprenticeship…and was promptly let go for being inappropriately chatty at his first funeral.

"I don't want to work in a warehouse like you, Dad. No offense," Davy had tacked on quickly one night as he vented his frustrations to Stuart.

"Noon taken, Son. Get ye a good job."

But time was marching on, and Davy still had yet to find a stable work situation, so he was stuck taking a lot of low-paying jobs while he tried to make up his mind about what to try next. So it was no surprise to Lacey that Stuart would try to come up with a business idea that might work for both of them.

Poor Davy. He hadn't ever had things easy, but he never complained, and never acted anything other than cheerful any time Lacey was around him. She continued to be grateful Sundae, at least, had brought some sweetness into his life.

Speaking of Sundae, four new cats came to Cats' Cradle in the month of February. Two were, oddly, hairless kittens like him; one was a plain grey tabby that had to be at least ten years old and was given to them by the son of a woman who'd passed away, leaving the sweet old boy without a home or an owner. The fourth was a young black cat with a white button on its chest that had been left behind after the owners moved away–much like the now-adopted Veronica and Violet had been when Adam had found them.

It never ceased to amaze Lacey how people could view animals as disposable. They were living creatures who deserved love as much as anyone else. The good news was, at least the parents of the Sphinxes had offered to sponsor their adoptions, stating they had purchased the cats from a high-end breeder, but had simply not realized the unique care that went into maintaining their hairless skin.

For Valentine's Day, she and Hilda had fun knitting–a brand new skill for Lacey–some red sweaters for them. The female was dark with light spots sprinkled over her randomly, and the male was flesh-colored. Hilda dressed her in pink, and Lacey used her red, badly knitted sweater for him. Then it was picture time for the newsletter, and the two cats, still trying to decide how they felt about their scratchy sweaters, stood together, stunned, as Lacey snapped a photo. They were named Shade and Sunny, thanks to Martha's creativity.

"We had a Sundae, and now we have a Sunny," she snuggled the male Sphinx to her, which still felt so strange against her own skin. But alas, they were two of the most affectionate cats in the shelter.

As much as she wanted to go back to New York to pay Adam a surprise Valentine's Day visit as she had last year, Lacey knew she couldn't this time. Not only were her classes becoming a little more intense now and she spent long hours on her computer typing up papers, she was beginning to realize how easy it was to spend money even though she'd tried to keep her father's fund difficult to access. Plane tickets began to increase in price, and when she and Adam could talk frequently–as they had been once again since his promise to back off on the intensity of his physical activity–it seemed like something she should forego. Besides, he was coming back for Spring Break, and she knew she could surely wait that long to see him.

Meanwhile, she had heard from Julie–who was thriving in culinary school–and from Connie, who was likewise having a decent second year with Guy at Minnesota State, called to chat one afternoon, asking about Adam early into the conversation.

"He's…well," Lacey furrowed her brow, trying to think of how to explain things to Connie without causing undue concern. Adam would hate that. "He's been a little hyper focused on getting into the NHL. But I think he's coming down a little from that, if you know what I mean. Becoming more grounded, I guess you would say."

Connie sighed. "I knew it. He's always been that way, and I mean, in a way it's admirable he's so focused. It's probably what caused him to move over to the Ducks from the Hawks. That can't have been easy for him, having to turn his back on his friends and the people he'd known his whole life. Not to mention his dad," Connie threw that last sentence in with a bit of snark. "It was all for love of hockey. He'd rather have joined us, as ragtag as we were, than not to play at all. But Lacey, we both know, as good as a player is, getting into the NHL is like…impossible. I think Adam has alot of skill, but I'm not sure it's enough. If it was all about determination though, he'd have already been drafted."

Lacey nodded. "I want him to have a back up plan, and he's getting his political science degree, but what's he really going to do with that?" Then she bit her lip. Connie herself was studying political science. "Sorry, I didn't mean–"

"It's okay, I get it," Connie replied amiably. "The difference is, I have a plan for what I want to do. And Adam's basically doing it just to say he has a degree."

"And I want him to have ambition. Other than, well, just the NHL."

After she and Connie hung up, Lacey felt alot more validated in her concern. This was something other people viewed as a problem, too. She wasn't just being a Debbie Downer about Adam's dream.

But it didn't matter now, she reasoned with herself. Adam had clearly seen the problem himself. Now, he would play hockey and continue to strive for the NHL, but he would also focus on earning his degree, having fun, and planning the rest of his life.

The scare was over. And she could let go of the nightmare she'd had the night after his emergency room visit. Because for at least a week afterward, she awoke in the morning only to put her feet down on the ground and discover thick strands of wavy dark hair.