Val’s POV

I took the ice for the start of the 2014-2015 season. It was good to get back to something that I loved so much. The cold temperature of the American Airlines Center in Dallas, Texas filled my muscles and body with an adrenaline that made me super excited. I sped around the rink in the warm up lap, flanked by my linemates, Jamie Benn and Tyler Seguin. Both winked at me and reassured me that this was our year for the Cup.

I was much more fluent in English this season, than last and because of that I was ready to tackle this season more than anyone else. I was ready to bring it!

The game started and I happily launched off from center ice, ready for a pass. I deked the opposing player, quite easily. For this first game, the Dallas Stars were playing the Minnesota Wild. The Wild had been good last season, but they wouldn’t get past us this year!! I zoomed down the wing and shot into an open spot, just as my captain sent me a beautiful saucer pass, right to the tape of my blade. I caught it, squared myself to the net and goalie and shot.

The goalie’s eyes narrowed on me, as I got ready, winding up for the shot, but he didn’t scare me. I shouted, “Shayba!” I just slapped the disk toward the net, using all of my skill and body weight and it managed to fool the goalie, as it flew high glove side.

“Alright Nichy!” I heard my linemates cheer, as I finished up my goal scoring celebration, a common arm circle and fist to the air. I screamed out my excitement and jumped around, doing a full 180 degree spin on my skates. I landed smoothly, which would have earned me close to a 10.0 in a figure skating competition. As soon as I landed, my teammates smashed around me, patting and hugging me. They continued in a chant of celebration. I heard Tyler say something like, “Good boy, Val!” It made me smile.

Eventually we broke apart and skated to the bench, where the rest of the team was standing, ready with the arms out. They cheered and shouted, “Way to go Nichy! You the Star!”

I smiled, not wanting this moment to ever pass, but the game had to continue. Our line entered the bench for the change, as the next line was put on the ice. The game resumed with the puck dropping once more from the lineman’s hand.

I felt an arm wrap around my shoulder and neck, as I got lost, watching the game from the bench, something that I didn’t like. I remember playing for Russia during the Olympics and I had started the game against Norway. I was so excited to be playing for my country and to be playing in the Olympics, which so few got the chance to. But I wanted to prove them wrong and prove that I could play. I had scored two goals already in the tournament, but it was kind of an off day for me. I was turning the puck over and making stupid mistakes. I was trying my best and hardest not to give up, but things went from bad to worse.

I had skated across the blue line, looking to pass when the opposing player stole the puck away and made me pay for it. I tried to get back and cover my mistake, but before I knew it the puck was in the net and I was benched. I watched the rest of the game in the corner and though at the time, I was upset and disappointed in my play, I knew that it was only a matter of time before I could get back out there and play.

I was only 18 at the time and it was a great learning experience. I treasure what I had and what I learned and what I was able to do. Who else got to say that they played in the Olympics for the Red Machine of Russia AND had scored a goal!

The person’s arm squeezed me tighter, pulling me to the side. I glanced over and saw my mentor and fellow Russian, Sergei Gonchar. He was grinning at me and telling me how well I was playing and that I was doing things right. He spoke to me in Russian.

“Хорошая работа. Вы выглядели фантастическими там. Я так горжусь тобой. Следите за большую работу. (Good job. You looked fantastic out there. I'm so proud of you. Keep up the great work.)”

I returned his kind, friendliness with a classic smile of innocence. It had a bucket full of “awe shucks” in it, enough to make Sergei chuckle and grab me by both shoulders and shake me in place.

Before long, we were well into the second period. Lindy Ruff, the coach, had my line back out with Sergei and his partner at defense. Tyler Seguin skated in a circle at centre. He shot glances between me and Jamie and nodded. We returned the signal and look and got set. I jostled with my opponent, as the puck was dropped and Tyler won the faceoff.

I shot off down the ice, but saw the puck in the blade of the opposing team’s player. He was crossing the blue line, as Jamie came over to help his defenseman out. As he battled in the corner for the puck, Sergei joined him, as did a familiar opponent. Matt Cooke.

Cooke slammed Sergei into the boards, to help his teammate out, making it a one on one again. Tyler signaled to me to cover his back, as he was going in to help. He snuck his way in and managed to scoop the disk into his stick and away from the boards. He sent it quickly back to Sergei who had gotten free from Cooke.

He saw me wide open on the other side and, just as he sent the puck across, Cooke slammed into him, elbowing him up high. “Dirty Russian!” the forward snarled, spinning around and launching back down the ice toward...me!

I saw him coming and slipped between the two Wild defenseman, easily fooling them. I gathered the puck back to my blade and under control, spun around the centerman and sent it, back-handed to Tyler, who tapped it into the back of the net.

Goal! Dallas: 3, Minnesota: 0.

The celebration was short lived as the whistle blew to halt the play and the game. I looked in the direction of the whistle and saw the ref and Alex Goligoski signaling to the bench. They were hovered over a player, lying on the ice. It was a Dallas Star too. I knew who it was.

I shoved free of the arms of Tyler and Jamie and stepped forward. “Sergei, no!”

“Sergei, yes!” Cooke sneered, as he skated by.

Jamie crosschecked him, sending him away. “Get lost, Cooke!”

“I’ve got my eye on you, Benny boy!”

Two of Cooke’s linemates skated off and pulled him to the bench, only to have him be sent off the ice and given a Game Misconduct. He laughed, as he exited down the visitor’s tunnel to boos and hisses.

Jamie and Tyler stepped forward to me. They both placed a hand, comfortingly on my shoulder. I was horrified. No, I was appalled, disgusted and nauseous. I saw the man who had taken me under his wing, so that I could ease into the American culture, lying on the ground struggling to breathe. The same man who had taught me English and let me stay with him. I watched, my heart tearing into two pieces, as he was lifted onto a stretcher, unmoving. His eyes were wide open and his mouth was slightly agape, parted at the lips. And he was breathing, his chest heaving up and down, as I saw him carted off.

“Это не может быть. (This can’t be happening.)”

Tyler and Jamie helped to lead me to the bench. I was shaking so much, that I stumbled in through the door. My linemates helped me sit down, as I was unable to do anything. My mind could only think about my mentor, who had been violently targeted by the worst cheap-shot artist to date.

“Hey, Val, it’s going to be okay. Sergei is going to be fine.”

“Come on Val, we need you to remain focused. You can’t check out of the game, because your friend is hurt.”

They were right. But it still hurt.

“And don’t go looking for revenge. The worst thing you can do is look for revenge. If you want to make Sergei proud, score a hat trick or help your team on the ice. That is what Gons would want you to do,” Jamie smiled at me and patted me, his linemate, on the shoulder.

I nodded, biting my lip. I wouldn’t look for revenge, but I was worried about Sergei. I don’t know why, but the emotion got to me and I asked to remain out for the third period. I said that it was because Cooke had hit me and my knee was hurting. They allowed me to, but I couldn’t shake the nagging feeling of disappointment coming from them. Luckily Jamie understood and supported my decision. He said that he commended me for thinking of what was best for the team.

****

Nathan’s POV

Meanwhile, in Colorado, I pulled my shirt off and draped it over the back of my chair, which sat in its typical spot in the corner. I pulled off my pants next and then threw on my sweatpant pajamas. They were Avalanche colors, surprise, surprise. Hey, what was wrong with supporting the team who gave me a career and drafted me?

I walked into the bathroom, where I quickly ran through the routine of brushing my teeth, flossing, washing my face and what not. When I was done, I flashed my reflection a smile and pointed finger guns. I was ready for bed and to dream about girls!

I turned off the light and walked out, into the room. I pulled back the comforter and sheets and hopped onto the bed, getting into place. I leaned back, putting the covers and fabrics over me. When I was satisfied, I reached over and yanked the chain to my lamp.

The room was bathed in darkness, as I sank deeper into the cushiony bedding and almost immediately fell asleep.

I found myself on the beach somewhere warm and sunny. I opened my eyes, which I found were shielded by sunglasses. As I leaned forward, I discovered that I was on a bench of some kind. I was shirtless and had on a burgundy red and royal blue color bathing suit on. But something was wrong.

In my head, I knew that the next day was the NHL Awards in Las Vegas. And as I looked at myself and my skin, I saw how red I was. I had gotten a searing flash of heat, as I gasped in shock. How long had I been sitting out here in the sun? I was a white boy a little while ago and suddenly, now I was a lobster. How could I go to the awards show, looking like a lobster?

Then it hit me, I had arrived in California yesterday, wanting to beat the crowds as it was suggested to me by my captain, Gabriel Landeskog "Landy." Of course, he wasn’t the only one. I had been forewarned by a lot of people that this was the smart way to go and I just wanted to soak up some sun, not a lot.

But apparently, that wasn’t what had happened. I was a freaking lobster, man, redder than an apple. And now I had to go to the awards show like this. Would people make fun of me? I hoped not, I didn’t do good under pressure like that.

I carefully and slowly made my way up to my hotel room, my conscious leading the way. I made sure to check and see that no one was following me or looking at me. I really didn’t want anyone to see me. I would deal with the uncomfortable sunburn when I reached my room.

I entered my room and closed the door, behind me. Luckily, no one had seen me, which was great. It was almost like the place was abandoned. I hadn’t seen anyone on my way up, not even at the hotel counter. It was weird. I leaned against the door for a little bit longer, before I walked across to the makeshift bed. The crew had come by and straightened things up. The place was tidy.

I walked into the bathroom at the right side of me and stepped up to the counter. Here, I gazed into the mirror. I saw the bright color of my skin and shook my head. I removed my glasses and set those on the countertop. My blue eyes stood out against the fiery tint of my own skin. I looked like I had been lit on fire.

I sniffled and winced as I attempted to move my hand up and touch my head. I felt my skin, and drew back at once. I was hotter than the surface of the sun! How long had I been out there, sitting?? I spotted a large bottle of Icy aloe lotion sitting in the corner, north of the sink. I grabbed it at once. Unscrewing the lid, I dumped a good dollop of the stuff in the palm of my hand and then started rubbing my burned skin with it.

The cold sensation washed over me, and it felt refreshing. But at the same time, that was all it did. How could I expect to go to an awards show like this?

As I put the bottle back down on the counter and put my palms down on the edge, leaning forward, I gazed into the mirror at my awful new sunburned skin color. My image slowly dissolved away and I found myself standing at center stage, in front of a microphone.

Laughter roared all around me, as I noticed the beaming lights overhead, shining on me. The lights were bright on me, as I stood there, frozen in place. I was horrified. Gradually I turned around and glanced at one of the side screens. I was still bright red and I had only my boxers on. I looked like I had just woken up.

“Kinny, you’re a lobster!”

“Kinny got sunburned!”

“Hey MacKinnon nice outfit!”

“Nathan, way to dress up for the award show!”

I felt my lips part, as I struggled to breathe normally. I looked down and saw guys like Ryan Getzlaf, Sidney Crosby, Ben Bishop, Claude Giroux, Zdeno Chara, and others cracking up. It made my heart race inside my chest; it was difficult to breathe. If I wasn’t hot from the sunburn or the stage lighting, my embarrassment made things absolutely unbearable. I knew I couldn’t show any of the blushing that was going on, but I was sure that I was red in the cheeks, behind the burns.

“Nathan MacKinnon, get off the stage! Just get off!” Sidney Crosby snorted, standing up from his seat in the front row. Beside him was Ryan Getzlaf and behind him was Patrice Bergeron. They didn’t attempt to do anything, choking back their own laughter.

I gazed at him, unable to move.

“You don’t deserve the award if you are going to dress immaturely and come to such a formal event like that! All you are doing is ruining your reputation!” Sidney carried on.

“And Colorado’s!” a voice cried out.

“The NHL doesn’t approve of this behavior, Mr. MacKinnon!”

I found that I could whirl around to face the owner of the last comment. It was the commissioner of the National Hockey League. I gulped, nervously. Great, now I had upset the leader of the NHL! How could things get any worse?

“Boooo! Take him away, Commissioner!” Sidney’s catcalling continued.

I felt two pairs of hands grab my arms and pull me forward to the side of the stage. I was panicking and too terrified to do anything. I let them drag me off. I was forced off to a mixture of cheers and boos. But I wouldn’t have minded, if Sidney Crosby, my idol, hadn’t called me out. Hadn’t embarrassed me. Hadn’t dissed me right then and there.

As I was held in the wing by both arms, I saw the scene dissolve once more. It faded to blackness, before my eyes snapped open.

I shot upward, in my bed. I saw that I was back in the comfort of my own home. I glanced at my hands and arms; they were white once more. I calmed my heart rate down, gaining control over my rapidly beating heart that pounded in my chest. I glanced at the clock and read the time: 6:00 am.

There was no point in trying to fall back asleep. I clutched the top of the comforter and sheets in my fingers, as I blinked away the nightmare I had had.

The horrible thing was, this wasn’t the first nightmare I had had. I had been possessed by night terrors for about a week now and they seemed to keep me from getting much sleep, if any at all. In less than twelve hours, the Colorado Avalanche had to play the Pittsburgh Penguins. But I wasn’t sure if I was ready or even in the mood. I didn’t feel good at all and I sank back, against the pillow and backboard. I pulled the fabrics up my bare chest and clutched it at the nape of my neck. I whimpered in the darkness of the room.

I tried to go back to sleep, but the horror and memory of the dream kept pushing into my head, eventually winning. So, I just stayed as I was in the bed, blinking and gazing into nothing but darkness.

I allowed tears to come and I softly sobbed, as I sat up against the backboard, my mind racing and sleep eluding me.

Notes

I hope you enjoy this new story. I just got this idea, from.....a dream. :)
Watching the Seahawks play the Packers and I can't help but think about D&T....Also I love this GB guy HaHa Clinton-Dix...so funny hearing his name each time it is said, but he is a good player! :)
#GoHawks
As always, you people know what to do. If you see a mistake, I'd like to know, so I can change it as quickly as possible. And also feel free to let me know what you think about this...
I am trying a new POV, I am doing first person for once, so I hope I stayed on the correct POV, without switching tenses. :P
Okay, I think that's it....thanks! :D