Chapter Text
The summer sun hung low over the Michigan lake, casting golden ribbons across the water’s surface. Luke stood on the dock, the faint scent of pine and sunscreen mixing in the air.
This lake house, bought by Quinn and Jack after their first NHL contracts, was supposed to be a place of freedom, a break from schedules and pain and doctor’s appointments.
Luke had spent the whole day living like a teeanger: wakeboarding till his arms trembled, racing Jack up the bluff trail, swimming until his skin was pruney and pink. He even dared to forget the rigid routine—forgot his supplements, skimped on water, ignored the sunblock warnings. Because this was summer. This was freedom.
But now, curled into the couch in the cabin’s cramped living room, the flare-up hit him full force. His knees throbbed like fire trapped under skin, his wrists burned with an ache that made every slight movement a challenge. Even his fingers—long, athletic fingers—felt swollen and angry, buzzing with that sharp, biting pain that meant his body was betraying him again.
Quinn sat nearby, laptop closed but forgotten, watching Luke with a mix of concern and something fierce, protective. Jack leaned against the doorway, arms crossed, a smirk tugging at his lips despite the situation.
“Moose, you’ve got to stop trying to be a superhero,” Jack said, voice light but firm. “I don’t want to see you in so much pain.”
Luke groaned, shifting to nestle his head against Quinn’s thigh. “I just wanted one day without thinking about all the crap.”
Quinn’s hand found Luke’s curls, fingers running through the messy waves. “I get it. You want normal. But your body’s got its own rules now.”
Luke blinked up at him, big eyes clouded with frustration and something softer—fear, maybe.
Quinn sighed, leaning back to gather his thoughts,“Okay, so listen up: I’ve been looking into the supplement world after talking to your doctors. Fish oil is your best friend for inflammation. Magnesium helps with muscle cramps. Vitamin D keeps your immune system from flipping out. And then there’s this new anti-inflammatory the doc wants you to try—way better than the last one.I bought them all and put them on your shelf with the other tea from mom.”
Jack grinned. “Yeah don’t forget mom’s herbal concoctions. Yesterday’s bone broth protein smoothie almost knocked me out. Have you been following her schedule?”
Luke wrinkled his nose. “Yes, but that stuff smells like swamp water.”
“But it works,” Quinn shot back. “Plus, holy basil is basically a miracle plant or something. It’s got adaptogens that help your body deal with stress—physical and emotional.”
Luke let out a dry laugh, wincing when he shifted. “I feel like a walking pharmacy.”
Jack plopped down next to him, nudging Luke’s leg. “Better a pharmacy than a wreck. You’ve got Mom and Quinn, that’s a pretty deadly combo.”
Quinn smiled softly, brushing Luke’s hair again. “I just want to help you as best as I can. We all want to see you kill it at Michigan, but you gotta pace yourself.”
Luke sighed, the tension in his joints easing slightly with the warmth of his brothers’ presence. “I just don’t want to let you guys down. What if I can’t keep up?”
Jack shook his head. “You could never let us down. You’re stuck with us for life.”
Luke rolled his eyes but smiled, the fierce brotherly camaraderie wrapping around him like a shield against the flare’s fire.
For now, the pain was there, sharp and stubborn. But so were they, and Luke thinks that might just be enough.
And tomorrow, he’d try again.
One year later
The NHL Draft floor buzzed with voices and cameras and adrenaline. Luke sat between Quinn and Jack, dressed sharp in a navy suit, his nerves electric under his skin. His fingers twitched, thumb brushing over the hem of his blazer, an old nervous tick he thought he’d left behind. But tonight was too big, too loud, too unreal.
When the New Jersey Devils called his name, the world spun for a second.
Then he was on his feet, pulled into a fierce hug—Jack first, lifting him clean off the ground. Jack’s voice cracked in his ear. “You’re a Devil, Moose. You did it.”
Quinn was next, gripping both his shoulders before pulling him in, holding him tighter and longer. “You earned this. Every second of it.”
Luke felt the pressure build in his chest, emotion tightening his throat. “You guys got me here,” he whispered.
Jack was grinning so wide his eyes crinkled. “You got yourself here. But we’re not letting you go alone.”
The three of them stood together, tangled in hugs and half-laughs and tears that weren’t entirely hidden. Their mom was crying in the row behind them, and even their dad had to swipe at his eyes.
Luke glanced at the Devils jersey waiting for him on the stage. His knees didn’t hurt tonight. His fingers weren’t swollen. His body felt strong, steady—but more than that, he felt loved, covered by the net his family had always woven beneath him.
He took a breath. Then he walked forward.
And Jack—already in his Devils gear—was the first one waiting for him on the other side, arms outstretched.
The flare-ups, the worry, the days of lying on the couch with Quinn rubbing circles into his back—all of it had led here.
And for the first time, Luke believed it: he wasn’t just surviving.
He was rising.
He was home.