Shaybu!

It felt like hours until Patrice Bergeron, Ryan Getzlaf, and Patrick Sharp walked out of the hospital and stood outside. Patrice was back to his normal self, with the occasional scars and marks on his face, neck and chest. His eye was no longer swollen or purple and he looked ready.

Patrick and Ryan nodded to him.

“He’s gonna make it!”

Patrice had to have faith. He could feel it. He controlled his emotions and gave a curt nod back.

A few seconds passed, until the doors opened and Jonathan Toews walked out. He stepped to the side and smiled.

Brad Marchand, alive and well, followed him. “Bergy!!” the small winger cried and embraced his linemate. “You still look like a million bucks, Bergy!”

They pulled apart.

“Well, now that Sidney Crosby is no longer around, why don’t you say we get to practicing?” Patrice stated, dipping his head to Jonathan.

“Y-you want me to be the captain?” Jonathan stammered.

“Absolutely!” Patrick exclaimed.

“But I couldn’t----?”

“You deserve the “C”, Johnny!” Brad remarked.

“You led everyone to find these two, who wouldn’t be here right now, if it weren’t for you!” Ryan respectfully added. “If you don’t take it, I will personally check you hard during the practice!”

“Alright, I’ll lead team Canada!”

“We’re gonna win gold baby!” Patrick exclaimed.

“You’ve got the ideal team to do it!” Brad added. “But you’d be even better with me on it!”

“Marchy!”

They all shared a laugh and headed back to the Canada house in bright spirits.

It was a new day and Pittsburgh could suck on the fact that they had only one player in Sochi now. And he was Evgeni Malkin.

With two minutes left in the game, Patrice Bergeron scored the game-winning-goal. And Canada won the gold medal, which Sidney and Chris would whine about to a ref, who wouldn’t care. But Sidney was dead.

After the game, Team Canada allowed Patrice to stand in the center of the ice. His dream had come true. The crowd erupted with noise and approval. He was proud to have scored a goal and help his country out.

As the crowd thundered around him and lights flashed from cameras and phones, he gazed around the room. His locked on Ryan Getzlaf first, who pumped the air with his fist. Next to the Anaheim Duck, was Jonathan Toews and Patrick Sharp who clapped and cheered. Jonathan dipped his head, respectfully to Patrice.

He then turned and saw Duncan, his roommate in all smiles. Adjacent to Duncan Keith, Drew Doughty, Martin St. Louis, and Corey Perry stood.

Finally, his eyes rested on his loyal teammate, Milan Lucic, who looked extremely proud. Patrice grinned. He was happy. He was glad that Milan got the chance; he deserved it. A few of the Canadian players embraced Milan warmly. They acted like good friends and showed the Bruin tough guy love.

Patrice turned back and glanced upward, into the booth, up above, a couple officers held onto Chris Kunitz, who was handcuffed. He glared down at Patrice. It was the most intense amount of loathing that the centre had ever seen. Chris was pissed.

Patrice ignored him and looked back down, closing his eyes.

“Alright Bergy!”

“He’s the greatest centerman ever!”

“Way to go Bergy!”

These and many other chants filtered into Patrice’s ears. The noise melted into him, as stood, relishing the praise. It was about as exhilarating as raising the Stanley Cup.

Patrice took home his medal and the first person he gave it to, to tryout and wear for a little bit was his small, brave linemate named Brad Marchand.


The End!

Notes

AWWWWWWWWWWW!!!! Marchy and Bergy <3