Part of the Team (ON HOLD)

So I told them.

I started from the beginning. The grey walls, the bear and blanket, no memory of my parents, no friends, hockey, and the bullying. Yes, bullying. No one liked me at that orphanage. I was too different. Kept to myself, didn’t play their games, and didn’t try to break out. Yea, a lot of the kids tried to break out. Late at night, with bobby pins as lock picks. None of them succeeded. It was pointless to me; if they did manage to break out, where would they go?

I told them about Mat and my extensive hockey collection, and about the zoo. Some of the guys occasionally asked questions, like how old I was when I was in the orphanage and what we actually DID in there. By the time I got the bus accident, they were all silent. I started to tell them how I got out of my seat, and showed them my leg. It was still mostly wrapped, but there was a small part of the shin that was visible. Many of them were shocked when they saw the full extent of the gash, murmuring their sympathies.

“Someone as young as you shouldn’t have to go through something like this.” I heard from Danny B. Second favorite Hab. I shifted uncomfortably.

“It’s not as bad as I make it sound…” I mumbled.

He just smiled and laid a hand on my shoulder. “So strong.” He softly said in that adorable French accent.

It grew quiet after that. I could tell most of the guys were thinking about me, and my life story. They all looked sad or upset; why? They barely knew me.

“I know all of your nicknames.” I blurted. The silence was uncomfortable. I decided to use my master subject-change abilities to my advantage. Many of them smirked and laughed.

“Do you really?” Bourque asked. I nodded eagerly. “Shall I?” He laughed and nodded. I took a deep breath and started on my left.

“Pricer Pricey, Pizza Kitchen” -he laughed at that- “Mr. Stache, Buds, Chukie, Gally, Whitey, Larry, Patches, Gio, Bourquey, George, Marky, and Danny B. However, Franky Boo is forever my favorite nickname. Sorry not sorry.” I said almost in one breath. Again, a moment of silence before laughter flowed through the room. I smiled in the middle of it all; while making most of my favorite hockey team laugh certainly wasn’t a goal to begin with, it was a nice accomplishment.

“I don’t think anyone has admitted to knowing that.” Carey stated with a laugh.

I laughed. “Well I know for a fact that almost the entire Habs nation knows your nicknames. Have you gotten on Twitter lately?” Nearly everyone on Twitter used nicknames instead of full names for the players. I noticed PK rummaging through my chest behind the big man.

“Hey hey, don’t touch the material! That stuff’s worth a lot!”

He laughed. “No it’s not, you don’t have any 76 shirts in here!”

“You mean 30.” I smirked. Peter chuckled behind him. PK looked shocked, and retorted with “Well you don’t have any Budaj gear either!”

“Let’s change that.” I heard from Peter. He pulled his jersey off, and whipped out a sharpie. He signed his number, and passed it to Carey over PK. When he reached for the jersey, Buds held it away.

“Oh no no, you don’t approve of her favorite player choice. You sign last.” I laughed. PK threw his hands up smiling and let the jersey get passed to Pricer. It was passed around the small circle. When I got to the second to last person, Danny B, I quickly whispered to him.

“You can sign the other number.” He looked at me with a bemused expression.

“I’m your other favorite player aren’t I?” he whispered back just as quietly. I laughed loudly, earning some questioning looks from the other guys. Wiping a tear from my eye, I nodded to Dan. He chuckled and scribbled his name and number on the zero, finally handing it over to PK.

“Finally. Jeez, alright are you ready for your signature to be worth a lot more?” Without waiting for an answer, he signed it with a note. Passing it to me, he shook his head, capped the marker, and handed it back to Peter. I read the note.

The only signature worth having it read under his scrawl. I giggled at him.

“Thanks guys. This is the one thing I don’t have; a jersey. Or anything signed. So this might be the best day ever.” They all gave me warm smiles. I heard the door open and in came Chelsea. She viewed the room filled with grown men sitting like children on the floor and me with a new jersey. She smiled.

“I just came to let you that it’s six. I wasn’t sure if you guys had to be somewhere…” she trailed off. I think it must have all hit us at once; six? Three hours, three hours I had been talking to most of the Montreal Canadiens. Well, almost all of them. A few of them hadn’t said anything specifically to me, but they laughed and signed the jersey. I expected it from the Russians, but I didn’t mind. A lot of the guys got their phones out to confirm the time, but not many of them made any moves to actually leave.

“Also, the Wings and the Bolts are playing. The puck just dropped.” Bless you Chelsea.

I grabbed the remote and switched on the flat screen. I found the game and looked at the guys.

“You don’t have to stay for the game, but I’m watching it.” I stated. They looked at one another, nodding.

“We can stay. None of us have anywhere to be for a while.” Max said. I laughed.

“Do you guys not have lives or something?” I asked

“You’re just lucky we picked you over Mario Kart.” Whitey. He got me back good. I threw him a pout and drew a single tear down my face. He laughed, and stepped over multiple pairs of legs to sit next to my bed. Leaning against the nightstand, he threw me a grin before returning his attention to the flat screen. The game was about five minutes in, no score.

I scanned the room. Everyone had their attention trained on the game, watching intently. That was, everyone except a certain backup goaltender. He was looking at me with a small smile on his features. I matched his expression. He gave me a wink before crossing his arms and turning to the game. I laid back on the pillows, feeling my eyes growing heavy.

*************************************************

I woke up to giggling and a door closing. I drowsily squinted my eyes, seeing a face in the small window of the hospital door. It was Ryan. He gave me a huge smile and waved. I returned the gesture before he disappeared. I plopped my hand down on the bed, hearing the crinkling of paper. Lifting my hand back up, I observed the note. It had different handwriting on it, coupled with signature and a message.

You feel asleep watching the game. We had to leave, but we had a blast talking to you. – Peter

You’re really mean and I don’t like you :D – Whitey
A beautiful, strong girl like you should always keep her head up. Stay happy. You did a good job of keeping the guys in their place. Avec amour, Dan.
Don’t sell my signature! – PK
You are really funny but you need a new favorite player – Rene
You are hilarious – the Gallys
I’m better than the Gallys - Larry
I hope you get better soon, stay funny – Max
Honorary ViolentGent for life!! – Mr. Stache
Keep your spunk and stay strong, keep that smile on your face. – Gio
You’re welcome for the food - Pricer
Sorry I didn’t say much, but gws and hope to see you at a game or two. – Josh

Marky just signed his name. I laughed. I had caught the stoic Russian with a grin more than once during their visit. At the bottom of the sheet, there was a smaller note.

High-five for picking an awesome favorite player. Hearing about your life, you are a very strong girl, and you seem too happy for the situation that you are in. But keep your pretty smile and your sharp wit. I think I will be visiting you again, and I’ll bring some more signatures for the jersey. – Buds

I smiled at the notes. They were all so nice, and I couldn’t believe how much they liked me. I giggled, before turning to the window. I saw an unmistakable Slovak flow, and heard Chelsea’s laugh. I saw Peter ask something, and saw Chelsea’s expression. She looked shocked at first, and then a happy grin spread over her features. She turned and showed Peter a piece of paper, looking like she was explaining different parts of it. She handed it to him, and he turned to the window. Giving me another smile, wink, and wave, he was gone.
Again, wanted to dance but again, options were limited. I settled for squealing. I slipped the jersey over my head.

Smells like him I thought happily. I started to feel drowsy for the second time. Sighing, I closed my eyes, breathed in the jersey, and fell into a deep sleep.

Notes

400 views omg wat

you guys seriously rock so hard. i cant believe how much love this story is getting. thank you guys eternally.

Hockey is here!!! yaaaaas

any guessing on what Buds and Chels were discussing? ehehehhehehehe

also, liz's shirt was a violent gents shirt - http://www.violentgentlemen.com/product/vghc-black

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