Chapter Text
Rusty was never one for early practices but somehow his luck was terrible enough that the team had such early practices. Still, he couldn’t complain as practice was a calming place for him. Life’s problems seemed to disappear when he was on the ice; it had been that way ever since he was a child and now…
He let out a huff shouldering his bag. It would be his first time back on the ice for the Express since his injury last season.
One would think a trophy would be at the end of a hard-fought series would be in store for Rusty and his team. No, he got something even better, a nasty concussion and a few broken ribs were the prizes given to him by their rival team the Apollo Victorias. The Express would later go on to lose Game Six and the championship with it. Despite the devastating loss, Rusty was more than excited to start the season anew and nothing could ruin his mood.
“Morning Buffy,” he greeted one of the team's chefs with a smile picking up a breakfast sandwich that she had just laid out. He made a disgusted face looking at the label.
The dark-skinned woman sighed loudly trying to swat at him with another wrapped sandwich, “Why did you pick the bacon one up when you know you aren’t going to like it?”
“It’s far too early for me to read and you know it,” he laughed swapping with her as another voice broke the sound barrier.
“Rusty!”
The player could only turn to intercept another one of the team’s cooks barreled into him. He could only huff out a laugh hugging the younger woman with much less fervor. Belle was in her second season with the Express and had formed a fast friendship with Rusty due to her being constantly attached at the hip to another one of the caterers, Dinah. Rusty had a close enough relationship with the three of them, having helped with the heavy lifting or cleaning up after his teammates.
“It’s so great to have you back! Oh!” she hopped back with a nervous squeak, “I’m so sorry I forgot about your ribs.”
It didn’t take much for the redhead to laugh waving her off, “Doctors cleared me a while ago Belle you’re fine.”
He should have regretted reassuring her as she latched back on just as quickly but he could only chortle at her excitement, but he was just happy to see her again. He glanced at Buffy for help only to receive a shrug and a smile as she went back to stocking. No matter how many times Rusty turned to glare at her did she take any pity on him, not like he didn’t mind at all nor did Belle notice this entire thing transpire.
“Ladies! When I need your help I need—” Dinah, the leader of the group, pushed through the doors carrying a tray of hashbrowns, “oh. Good morning, Rusty. How was your offseason?”
“Boring,” he smiled finally managing to pry the youngest of the trio away from him, “absolutely boring besides Rocky beating the crap out of me with rehab.”
“That’s what you get for taking that nasty hit,” she teased shooing Belle off and pointing Rusty in the direction of the cold bar, “we made sure to restock the fruits, so I don’t want to hear any complaints.”
“How could I ever repay you girls?” came his response as he made his way over to find the spread of fruit for the day, choosing some grapes to pop in his mouth as he continued to peruse.
“Well maybe you could get in touch with Pearl you’ve basically ghosted her the entire off-season,” Dinah raised an eyebrow glancing behind to watch Rusty nearly choke as his face reddened with an instant blush.
Pearl was the Express’ skating coach who had been hired late within the previous year to help improve the team’s edgework. She and Rusty had become fast friends hanging out in between practices but he hadn’t seen her since his season-ending injury. It was mainly his fault for being too nervous to get in touch with her about something outside of work. To be honest he would constantly stutter around her if it wasn’t for work talk keeping his stammer to a minimum.
“I blame the concussion,” Buffy whispered to Belle who only giggled. Rusty’s face began to bloom red trying to calm the situation with a frantic twirl of his hands.
“I-I’ve been busy,” he stammered, but that didn’t fly with Dinah who only waved a pair of tongs at him, “I’ll say hi when I run into her later.”
Belle sighed a bit too loudly for her usual demeanor and Rusty’s panicked mind ground to a halt. He began to smile despite the nervous blush and held back a laugh as the cook jumped in to mess with him like the trio always did this early in the morning.
“I’ve been hyping you up all summer I don’t need you to bail now—”
“You have a bet, don’t you?”
All three of the caterers shared a look; Dinah shot a silent glare for the two not to say anything, Belle avoided the heated look by focusing on her tongs, and Buffy only bit her lip to hide the smirk that was forming. After a few long seconds, they shared a look before all answering.
“No.”
“Not at all.”
“Why would we?”
The forward only rolled his eyes knowing it was useless to try and pry the truth out of the girls when they were together. It was a losing battle that he was not yet awake for such an argument. He would leave some of the other players to do that as they came in. So with a blushing smile, he said his goodbyes to the caterers but not before Dinah stopped him and pressed a pack of nicotine gum into his hand.
“For Ash, if you see her,” she smiled sweetly patting his hand as Rusty only resigned to his fate. It seemed that Ashley Moreau, assistant coach to the Express, had not kicked her habit over the summer and that only worried Rusty about what she had in store.
“Why not give it to Bobo or anyone else she actually likes?” he argued but Dinah only waved him on with a bright grin and a sing-song voice.
“You’re the captain. It’s your job!”
That set Rusty off on his way to the locker room shaking his head as he went and praying to whoever above that he didn’t run into Ashley until the last minute. If she was trying to quit, as she had been doing for a while, things could get a bit heated and that was something he didn’t want the first practice.
He was lucky enough to avoid her though making it to the locker room without any issues. As he opened the door a one-sided shouting match started within the player space. He was not shocked upon recognizing the main force being Alexander Leroux, the star rookie on the team now in his second year, and was just as heated as ever.
“I refuse to play if he’s going to be on the team!” The centerman cried dramatically flinging his hands in the air as another player rushed to try and calm him down before things got worse than it was.
“Come on Lex,” Volta tried while Rusty silently made his way in trying not to get dragged into drama he didn’t need to be dragged into, “I don’t know what Coach has planned—”
“Coach my ass,” Lex huffed shoving the dark-haired forward away, “Oh thank god Rusty!”
Shit.
It was too late to run as Alex had grabbed him by the shoulder and was already getting him to try and leave the locker room, “Let’s go. We’re going to talk to Coach McCoy about this.”
“Lex what is this…” the captain trailed off as he met a gaze that instilled a sense of fear deep within his bones. It wasn’t even the start of the season, and he already felt ill. Memories surfaced instantly assaulting the young man’s mind with sparse pictures taken before disaster.
Six minutes left in the second period, game five of the finals. Rusty had received a pass near center ice when something had grabbed the back of his jersey. The winger could barely let the cry of protest to the hand holding him back when he caught the iron shoulder slamming into his chin and the brown eyes situated behind the force. He didn’t remember much after that, only physically realizing where he was a day later in his apartment with Wrench, the team trainer, checking up on him.
Those same eyes only glanced at him now, with no such fire behind them, turning away as Geoff Bollard continued to get dressed for it would seem to be practice. The Starlight Express practice. A team that he wasn’t even supposed to be on.
He had opened his mouth to say something but Alex had other plans, dragging him out of the locker room and up the small staircase that led to Coach McCoy’s office. Slowly, while he was being dragged through the halls by his taller teammate, Rusty began to realize the horrible reality of the situation. If Geoff Bollard, captain of the Apollo Victorias, their most hated rival, was there for practice—
No wonder Lex was heated. Rusty frowned nearly tripping on a stair as Lex knocked furiously on McCoy’s door. If Geoff was on the team, who did they trade to get him? It was well known how much the two teams despised each other and to willingly sign with the other side wasn't even a thought in any of the player's minds.
The few seconds that had elapsed weren’t quick enough for Alex as they flung the door open to a tiny office; the clutter of various practice plans and papers made the space seem even smaller than it already was. There were no windows, with the only light source being a soft yellow overhead light. But that was enough to reveal pissed-off-looking Coach McCoy trying to take a phone call. Rusty hated the look that was being flashed their way, having seen it many times from his years of playing for McCoy as a child, but it didn’t seem to bother Lex who stomped in and pressed his finger against the receiver ending whatever call the coach was on.
“I was in the middle of an important call—”
Lex let out a sharp hiss shooting a glare towards Rusty to keep him there as backup, somehow assuming the captain would ditch him during his tirade, “You can call them back later. Why is Geoff Bollard getting dressed in our locker room?”
There was a soft gasp from the hallway that Rusty knew too well, and the coach’s annoyed face told him enough that Tassita, one of the team’s social media managers had overheard the outburst and would more than likely spread it amongst the team’s crew. The coach ignored this fact though and waved Rusty in, motioning for him to shut the door behind him, just to be sure no more information got out.
Coach McCoy seemed to enjoy Rusty squirm by letting the silence sit between the group and by making Alex stew in his anger before he finally spoke. Still finding his way to draw the seconds out into what felt like minutes before he sighed.
“We did make some trades in the offseason,” the coach pursed his lips eyeing Lex who had opened his mouth to object, “but no we didn’t trade for him. He signed with us.”
That got the same reaction from both players, nearly choking on the stale air. Sputtering filled the room and yet it was surprisingly Rusty who spoke for the two.
“Geoff Bollard… signed? I’m sorry coach but I don’t believe that Geoff Bollard signed out of all the teams in the league… with the Starlight Express.”
“Believe me I was as surprised as you were but he’s here now so we just will have to deal with it.”
The answer didn’t seem to appease the former rookie though who looked even more peeved, “Can anyone remember that he tried to kill me? His blade literally connected with my face! Also. Shouldn’t he be suspended for that hit on Rusty? How am I the only one thinking of these things?”
McCoy held his hand up for silence, something which he shockingly got, “Alex I understand your anger but I’ve talked with Bollard personally. He was suspended 3 games for the hit. That will begin once he is cleared by Wrench—”
The centerman scoffed but that didn’t deter the coach as he only continued. Alex only crossed his arms glaring holes into the desk in front of him. It was obvious he wasn't happy and neither was Rusty. His mind was too busy trying to come up with damage control that he would have to pull out in the next hour leading up to practice.
“—then he will serve his suspension. He will be on the team practicing with us until Momma or I say otherwise. He agreed to those terms and we offered him a one-year contract.”
Rusty couldn’t help but feel somewhat relieved. If Momma McCoy, a nickname given to the team’s general manager and overall team mom, had approved it he felt a little bit better with the situation. All team decisions had to be run through her before an offer could be made.
He remembered the first time he stepped into her office and the amount of absurd questions he received compared to other team interviews. It wasn’t until later he realized she had asked them to see if he would fit in with the team. She knew everything he could do on the ice but to figure out his personality in only a twenty-minute session was insanely smart and something he never thought. Needless to say, Rusty had a strong trust in her opinion if she had allowed that contract to go through.
Did he like the situation? No not at all but he just had to live with it.
Lex seemed to come to the same conclusion as he stood up with a huff and moved to the door. Turning back to Coach one last time he scowled, “He better not end up on my line. If he does, I want a trade.”
Rusty flashed the older coach a tiny smile and rushed after his teammate. It wasn’t hard as Alex somehow knew Rusty would be chasing after him. It didn’t take more than a few steps for him to catch up to the taller man. They walked stride and stride in silence before it was Rusty who spoke up.
“What are you thinking Leccy?”
Alex cringed at the nickname and Rusty waited for the explosion of anger that usually showed up with the name, but it never came, he only breathed out a huff, “I could’ve died... Your concussion could’ve been much worse. And it's all because of this same guy. Now he’s on the team? What is the rest of the team going to think? Shit’s about to hit the fan Russ and we were doing so good.”
Rusty took his time to think over his words carefully, as their pace slowed, If he couldn't assuage Alex's worries now they'd be down a damn good center, “If Momma gave the contract the green light I trust her opinion. She has a weird knack for things. I’m not happy about it but we just have to deal. We play our game and don’t worry about what’s going on. It’s only for one season after all and he may be traded.”
The standoffish nature of the centerman dissolved almost instantly with another drawn-out sigh, “This is why you have that letter on your chest. I get too pissed off at these things.”
Rusty couldn’t help but chuckle patting the taller man on the back before opening the door back into the locker room, “Just give it a few years. You may be on your way to captaincy soon.”
Lex barked out a laugh, “Don’t count on it, Rusty.”