All Hands on Deck

Game one of the playoffs, the Pens were in Philadelphia, and a vibrating tension echoed through every inch of the arena, of the entire city really. Sidney Crosby sat in his stall in the locker room, his elbows on his knees, head bowed, eyes staring blankly at the ground between his legs. It was 5:00 p.m. and he very obviously was not in the kitchen making the customary PB&J as per his routine. And the other players, having noticed this breach of protocol, were all incredibly concerned about the hell it meant.

Kunitz, sitting next to Sidney, met Flower’s eyes across the room. The goalie shrugged helplessly. Kunitz then looked to Geno who gave him a baffled gaze in return. When Coach walked in and saw Crosby sitting there lifelessly, he glanced around at the other men, most of them sitting in a sort of stunned silence. Coach met Kunitz’s eyes and raised his eyebrows to ask what the hell is going on. Kunitz shook his head to answer that he had no clue.

When Coach walked out without saying anything, looking like he wanted to throw up, Kunitz nudged Sidney with his elbow. “Yo, Sid, it’s 5 o’clock.”

Sidney didn’t look up; his voice was hoarse. “So what?”

Kunitz slapped him gently on the back. “So, it’s time for your pre-game snack. Come on. I could use one of your famous sandwiches for luck.”

“I’m not in the mood, Chris.”

Frantic looks were exchanged all throughout the locker room. This was not good, worse than they had initially thought. And no one had any idea what was causing this behavior in their Captain or how to help. Letang, however, had had enough and stood, ignoring the awkward murmurings as he grabbed Sidney’s arm, yanking him to his feet. “I need to talk to you, right now.”

With the other men’s eyes burning holes in their backs, Letang practically dragged Sidney outside the locker room, letting the door shut firmly behind them. He kept them moving down the hall until they reached a small alcove. When he released Sidney’s arm, his voice was just as rough as his physical treatment has been. “What the fuck are you doing?”

Sidney’s eyes, red and raw, dark with pain, looked at Kris as if he wasn’t even there, his stare vacant. “What do you want from me, Letang?”

“I wanna know why you’re acting like a goddamn zombie when we’re staring the toughest playoff series of our lives in two hours.” When Sidney had no reaction, Letang softened in demeanor and tone. He had been looking for a fight, an argument because he thought Sidney was just acting like a child, throwing a fit for who knows why, but now he could see that something was really wrong. “What…what happened, Sid?” Sidney looked at the floor again until Letang put his hand gently on his shoulder. “Hey, what’s going on?”

Their eyes met again and Letang immediately knew. How had he not seen it earlier? He squeezed Sidney’s shoulder affectionately and waited for him to speak. Finally, Sidney croaked out, “I told her I love her.”

Letang nodded somberly, somehow not surprised to learn that Sidney and Tessa had never been over. “She didn’t return the sentiment I take it.”

Sidney let out a cruel sounding laugh. “So much worse…she did, Kris. She loves me and I can’t…I let her go. Watched her cry and did nothing to stop it. Broke her heart…and then just walked away.”

Letang, who had never approved of their relationship, suddenly and instantly realized the error of his ways. Sidney was a destroyed, shell of a man without her and no one deserved that, let alone his dear friend. He found his own hopelessly romantic heart aching. “Sid, if you love her, why did you end it? You’ve come this far, she’s already accepted the risks. I assume you were making it work long distance.”

“It was when I realized that I loved her that I knew it had to end. Because I want everyone to know. How can you ask me to hide the greatest feeling in the world? But I can’t tell anyone without destroying her career. I can’t…even walk down the street with her. We can never have a normal life together and that’s the only thing I want…wanted…a life with her.”

“Sidney…”

“I love her so much, more than anything. I want all the best things for her and you said it first, I’m bad for her. She’s hurting now, but she’s gonna go on and -” His voice broke as he swallowed hard. “She’ll find someone else, be happy again.”

“And you?”

Sidney’s shoulders, now heavy with sorrow, shrugged slightly. “There’s nothing for me, she was it.”

Letang took a breath, trying to find words of comfort and coming up short. “Listen, I’m really fucking sorry. I’m sorry I’ve been a dick about it and I’m sorry you’re in pain. Have you tried talking to her? You can make things right again. If she loves you -”

“I can’t, I can’t make her stay with me, it’s not fair to either of us.”

While Letang wanted his friend to stop hurting, he also knew there was more at stake than a few broken hearts. “Sidney, I’m trying to not be an asshole, but I have to be because this is bigger than you and me or you and Nessie. If you’re not going to try and keep her you need to do something, get your head on straight, because I’m not gonna see us lose in the first round of the playoffs because you’re all fucked up over a woman.”

Letang had been trying to be cruel on purpose, he wanted Sidney to get angry, lash out, tell him again that Tessa wasn’t just another woman, do something, anything to prove he was still alive in there. Instead, the saddest thing happened, Sidney simply shrugged again. “If I could bring myself to care, I’d get my shit together, Kris. I’m trying, but what does it even matter?”

The defenseman's anger now became quite real. “Jesus Christ, I know you feel that way now, but do you think you’re gonna care this little after we lose? You don’t think you’ll be devastated with guilt knowing you had a chance to bring the Cup to Pittsburgh and you just let it go because you’re fucking pining over her?”

Sidney still didn’t get angry, but just gave Letang a tiny, almost imperceptible smile. “I hope you never lose Catherine, but if you did, you would understand.” He walked away, letting Letang shout at his back. Returning to the locker room, to his stall, he hung his head between his shoulders and tried to find the energy to even pull his skates on.

Eventually, Sidney managed to get dressed, his routine ruined, but he hardly noticed. He was nub and almost grateful for that. He had reached the point of melancholy where he couldn’t even feel sadness anymore, he felt nothing, less than human.

The game began with the typical playoff fanfare and Sidney did his best to put his game face on. He knew Letang was right; he would never forgive himself if he let his team, his adopted city, and himself down by not giving it everything he had.

When he came out for his first shift, he heard the boos from the crowd that were typical of games in Philadelphia. And while he had been hearing them for years, today he decided to use that energy for himself. He was not going to lose Tessa and then lose this series, no way in hell would he allow himself to be left with absolutely nothing. The thing is, he felt like he deserved the hate after what he had done and it felt right to get it from the Flyers fan, from Tessa’s people.

He took a breath, then another, told himself to feed off the bad vibes from the fans, let it fuel his skating, his determination. He figured he would be slow as molasses in January, but he flew out there, maneuvering through the Flyers defense easily and scoring the first goal two minutes in.

He nodded confidently, but without a smile when his teammates on the ice moved in for the post-goal hug. Letang was in his ear, saying, “Thank Christ. Looking good, Crosby.”

The game progressed and Sidney rode the ebb and flow of his own personal hell. When he was on the bench, all thoughts and regrets about Tessa came flooding back. He’d force his mind to focus on the game, but it was useless. Until he hit the ice and he heard the boos, letting them reignite his will to win.

Normally, he faced off against Giroux more often than not, but in the second period, with the score tied at two goals apiece, he found himself across from Michael Raffl. For reasons unknown to Sidney, the Austrian looked more intense than was called for, even during the playoff.

“You got a problem, Raffl?”

“Yeah, I do. You’re a piece of fucking shit.”

“Fuck you.”

“You wanna go?”

“I wouldn’t waste my energy on you.”

The puck dropped and Sidney won it back, passing it to Sheary as they started up the ice towards the Flyers’ zone. He accepted a pass from Letang along the boards and as he was releasing it via a cross ice feed, Raffl cross checked him with unrestrained violence, blindsiding him.

Sidney fell to the ice with a sharp and throbbing pain shooting through his lower back. He heard the whistle and was vaguely aware of the noisy scrum taking place over him as he collapsed to his side. He heard Sheary’s voice asking if he was okay. Then Jack was there, on his knees next to Sidney.

“You alright? Tell me what you’re feeling.”

Sidney pushed himself off the ice, wincing in pain. “I’m fine.”

Jack didn’t seem to believe him, nor did anyone else. “Let me take a look at you in the locker room.”

“Jack, I said I’m fine.”

Sidney was standing now, bent over only slightly. Jack took his arm. “Come on, there’s only two minutes left in the period. Just humor me.”

Sidney relented, skating back to the bench to even louder boos and making his way down the tunnel so Jack could take a look at him. There was nothing seriously wrong. Sidney was going to develop one hell of a bruise, but nothing was broken or permanently damaged from what Jack could tell.

The third period only got more brutal from there. With the game still tied, both teams executed harder checks, with everyone taking their fair share of the punishment. With ten minutes left in regulation, Sidney faced off against Raffl once more.

“Thanks for the cheap shot, fucking kraut.”

“Thanks for not scoring on the power play while I was in the box. You wanna go now?”

“Actually, yeah.”

The puck dropped, Raffl won it back, only because Sidney let him and when the puck was clear of them, Sidney shook off his gloves and dropped his stick in one smooth motion as Raffl did the same.

It was an even battle to start, both of them taking a couple shots and dishing it out in turn. Though, even Crosby would admit, the Austrian knew how to fight and Sidney got the the worst of it in the end. Raffl landed a clean left hook to his jaw and he felt his knees buckle slightly. He managed to stay on his feet and land a few more punches before the refs pulled them apart.

On their way to the box, Raffl surveyed Sidney busted lip and told him, “That’s what happens when you fuck with Philly.”

Sidney fired back, “Fuck Philly, the team and the city.”

“I wasn’t talking about either of those, you fucking asshole.”

In a huff, Sidney took his seat for five minutes and used a towel to wipe off his visor and then his face. He looked over at Raffl, but the bastard refused to meet his eye. What the hell had he been talking about? If he wasn’t talking about the city or the Flyers, what did Raffl mean?

He was still puzzling this out when he happened to glance behind him only because he felt someone watching him more harshly than normal, even in Philadelphia. Ryan was there, sitting a few rows back from the ice, looking annoyed and disgusted by Sidney. When he met her eyes, she looked away, smiling at Raffl.

Well, that certainly explained it. Of course, Tessa wasn’t Nessie to the Flyers, she was a Philly girl, so she was probably just Philly here. Now, he was even angrier than before. If Ryan told Raffl, who knows who else she told. He had never been tempted to hit a woman, but he wanted to do so now for Ryan having been selfish enough to risk Tessa’s career like this.

Full of energy, he stayed engaged in the game for the first time all night and was chomping at the bit to get out of the box. When his five minutes were up and there was a break in the action, he hit the ice, bumping Raffl with his shoulder as he went over to the bench.

Despite Sidney and boys’ best efforts, the game was still tied at the end of regulation. When they entered the locker room for the break before first overtime, Sidney was still fired up.

Coach gave them a run down of the positives and negative thus far, things they need to do better, what they’re doing right. He ended by saying, “Crosby, nice boost of energy with that fight, but let’s keep it clean from now on, alright? We need to stay calm, don’t get too emotional, just keep grinding them down.”

The overtime period went much the same way, hard, perhaps at time questionable hits, but everyone knew that this was typical of playoff hockey. What wasn’t typical was Sidney’s new propensity for taking everything personal. When Giroux shoved him after a whistle, he nearly dropped his gloves again and the ginger’s laughing in his face didn’t improve his mood.

“I see the King of the Penguins has got a bee in his bonnet tonight. Tough fucking luck.”

Sidney learned that night that too much emotion is almost as bad as not enough. While in the Flyers zone, he was too distract with trying to get at Raffl that he missed a dead on pass from Letang. Raffl intercepted, escaping the zone and eventually scoring the winning goal on a break away.

That hurt more than anything, that it was Raffl, the guy who knew about him and Tessa. He was so pissed he nearly damaged his gear while tearing it off in the locker room before cursing at the press, refusing an interview. The team watched him leave and when Kunitz asked what the hell his problem was, Letang just shook his head. “He’ll be alright.”

Ryan got two visitors that night. The first was Raffl, slightly drunk, but all smiles. “Hey, there’s my girl.”

As much as Tessa’s situation was bringing her down, she was really glad to see Raffl. And also really proud of him. She wrapped her arms around his wonderfully thick body and held him tight. “Thanks for punching Crosby, babe.”

“Fuck him, it was my pleasure. How’s she doing?”

“Honestly? I’ve never seen her like this. She hasn’t moved all day.”

Raffl nodded understandingly. “Make some tea. I’ll check in on her.”

Ryan had to asked, “You’re just making yourself right at home, huh?”

“Tsk, of course. She’s family…and now so are you.” He pressed a kiss to her cheek and went bounding up the stairs under Ryan’s eye. That ass of his was nice enough to make a commitment-phobe like her maybe possibly consider the idea of settling down. Until then, she’d just enjoy the incredible sex. Hockey players, man, God bless the lot of them.

Ryan was in the kitchen putting the kettle on to boil when the doorbell rang again. When she saw Sidney standing there on the other side of the door, she immediately went to slam it in his face. “Oh, fuck no.”

His foot got in the way and his hand forced it back open. “Oh, fuck yes.”

Ryan admitted that she wasn't strong enough to force the door closed against his will. “She doesn’t wanna see you.”

“Good, cause I’m not here for her, I’m here for you.”

Ryan spared him a sassy look before pushing him out the door and then stepping out herself, closing the door behind her. “You got something to say to me, Crosby?”

“I do. Tessa told you about us in confidence, you don’t need to be running around telling other people, especially other hockey players you happen to be banging.”

“Hey! I don’t know who the fuck you think you are, but in this neighborhood, you’re nothing, a piece of trash that no one would think twice about stepping over if they saw you bleeding to death in the street. Second, I didn’t tell anyone. In fact, I tried to stop Tessa from telling Raff, but she did it anyway.”

Sidney didn’t believe a word of that. Well, the part about Tessa anyway, because he was pretty sure the residents of Philadelphia would let him bleed to death. “Why would she do that?”

“Gee, I don’t know, Sid. Maybe because you left her here broken and praying for death. That might have something to do with her not caring if anyone found out. Thanks for that, by the way. I love cleaning up other people’s messes after they’ve wrecked my friend’s life.”

“Our relationship is not your business, Ryan, as much as you might like it to be.”

“You’re talking about the relationship you threw away, right?” The look on his face might have softened a lesser woman, but not Ryan, it only incensed her even more. “Ouch, truth fucking hurts, doesn't it?”

Suddenly, now believing her, all his anger at Ryan disappeared and he was back to feeling hopeless. Like Tessa, he tried to mask the pit in his stomach with anger, aggression, on the ice and now coming here to tell off Ryan. But when that faded, he was back to feeling hollow.

“I’m sorry. Will you tell her -”

“No. I’m not telling her shit. You had your chance to tell her how you felt. And you did. Live with that.”

Ryan opened the door and turned away from him. Sidney’s voice made her look over her shoulder. “Ryan.”

“What?”

“You have to understand…why. She told you, right? I didn’t have a choice.”

“Bullshit, Crosby. You always have a choice. You picked the wrong one. And I pray that you live to regret it everyday for the rest of your fucking life.”

“That’s harsh.”

“Good, then my message has been clear. Now get the fuck off my stoop before I punch you myself.”

When she slammed the door this time, Sidney didn’t try to stop her. He walked away, getting back in a rental car and heading back to the hotel. Before he left, he glanced up at the second floor window, the one he knew was Tessa’s. He didn’t see her, but he felt her, could practically sense the sadness radiating through the house. He had done that, and Ryan was right, he had to live with it.

Back in the house and now fuming mad, Ryan went back to making tea. She set a mug down so hard she broke the handle off and finally forced herself to stop before she ruined something else in her kitchen. She put her hands on the counter and leaned down, taking a few slow breaths.

Raffl’s hand on her back brought her back to reality. “She’s sleeping. You okay? Who was at the door?”

“Who do you think? Ugh, I could just…fucking throttle that man.”

Raffl was calm where she was tense and he tried to soothe her, pulling in for a soft embrace. “I hit him, it’s done. You need to leave it be, because if they work this out…”

“Yeah, I know. As much as I don’t want to admit it, forgiving him would be pure Contessa. She’s too kind, too soft hearted. Always has been.”

“Would that be so bad? Two people in love working out their issues and finding happiness together?”

Ryan sounded disgusted when she answered. “God, I thought you Germans were supposed to be rational. Why the hell are you so damn sentimental?”

“Firstly, I’m Austrian, not German and that’s an erroneous stereotype. Secondly, there is something rational about believing in love. It’s a force none of us really understand, true, but it’s also the most beautiful thing we ever experience. If we don’t believe in love, what the hell is the point of all this?”

“That’s sweet, Raff, but do me a favor. Don’t say that shit to her, because I don’t need her getting any crazy ideas in her head.”

“I’m sure there are already plenty of crazy ideas in her head. You need to do me a favor and not try to dissuade her from acting on any of them.”

“What? Fuck off. I’m not gonna sit here and let her do something stupid.”

“You might have to. Please, don’t get involved. Comfort her, love her, support her, but don’t try to make this decision for her. She needs to do that on her own, listen to her own heart. Please, Ryan, you could do more harm than good. I know you care about her, but you can’t fix this by trying to control everything.”

Ryan trying to control everything? Yeah, that sounded about right, even to her stubborn self. The most infuriating part was that Raffl was totally correct, on every point. Like a pouty child, Ryan told him, “Fine, I’ll let her do what she likes. But I don’t have to like it. And I sure as hell don’t have to like Crosby.”

Raffl laughed and his smile brought one to her face as well. “No, you don’t, but you have to let her go. You have to let her do this. You have to believe that she knows what’s best for herself, even more than you do.”

“You know…all I wanted from you was sex, since when did you become the resident psychoanalyst?”

“Oh, I’m sorry. You want me to leave?”

“No. I want you take me to bed and fuck me until Crosby being an ass to my friend is the last thing on my mind.”

“That, my dear, would also be my pleasure.”

Notes

So, there's a lot of Raffl in this one and I'm not even sorry because I have such a massive lady boner for him and he sort of took over when I was writing...