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Hayden Pike hated Scott Hunter. He hadn’t always hated Scott; they’d played against each other a lot over the years, had even played on All-Star teams together a couple of times. Hayden respected the guy. Well, he used to respect him. That was until Shane and Scott got into it on the ice. Now he hated Scott Hunter.
Shane was like Hayden’s little brother; he had taken the kid under his wing basically the moment he was drafted to Montreal and loved him like family. After several years on the team together, Shane coming by his house pretty often, and other shenanigans they got up to together, they knew each other pretty well. Hayden knew Shane wasn’t the type to start fights; in fact, he avoided them when he could, much more focused on just playing good hockey. Hayden knew Shane well enough to know that he definitely wasn’t one to get into fights after the game ended.
But here he was watching from the bench as Taylor pulled Shane away from Hunter, still shouting at him the whole time, even as the refs got between them. Hayden had to give it to him; Shane got a few good hits in before being pulled off the other team’s captain, but it was so unlike Shane to do that he was too surprised to even really register it.
“What the hell was that about, Shane?” he asked when they were back in the locker room.
His normally meticulous captain threw his gear into his locker without care. “Hunter’s a fucking bitch.”
Hayden cast a wary look at his teammates, none of whom seemed to want to touch this situation. He couldn’t say he blamed them. “Yeah, you punching him kind of gave that impression.”
“Fucking ancient pussy,” Shane spat as he took off the rest of his gear, “should keep his mouth shut.”
Without another word, he grabbed his bag and left the locker room in a huff, allowing the door to slam behind him. The team shared awkward glances and shrugs but didn’t say anything about it, continuing with their own post-game rituals. When Hayden finished his own routine, he went over to Shane’s locker and tried to tidy it up as best he could. Shane was one of the most Type-A people he had ever met. Hayden knew he’d be bothered by the state he’d left his normally very neat locker in once he had time to cool off, and Shane didn’t need that. He knew he wouldn’t get it exactly right, so he didn’t mess with anything crazy, but he could at least make it so Shane’s locker didn’t look like it had exploded.
When Hayden finally got home, the kids were already in bed, so the house was quiet, except for the low volume of the TV in the living room, where Jacki sat curled up under a blanket. He plopped beside her on the couch and gave her a quick kiss.
“Good game,” she said with a smile.
“Yeah, it was.” He replied, kissing her again. “You see Shane’s fight with Hunter?”
“Babe,“ she laughed, “I think the whole country’s seen it by now.”
He laughed in agreement; she had a point. With how rare a Hollander fight was and how rare post-game fights were, this one was bound to be everywhere.
“Did he tell you what happened?” she asked, gently tracing her fingers across his arm as she spoke. “I’ve never seen Shane like that.”
Hayden shook his head. “I’ve got no idea. None of the guys seems to know either. Must’ve really gotten under his skin though.”
Jacki hummed in agreement.
“You don’t think…”
“What?” Hayden hesitated. He hated to even put it out there. “Cmon, Hay, what?”
“Well, I was thinking on the drive home…Maybe he said something… racist. What else would get Shane so heated?”
“Shit,” Jacki breathed.
“Yeah.”
They sat in the heaviness of that revelation for a moment.
“Would explain why he wouldn’t say what happened,” Hayden reasoned. “And why he called Hunter an ‘ancient pussy’ who should keep his mouth shut.”
“He said that?” Jacki laughed in surprise.
“Oh yeah, and that was in the locker room. I didn’t even hear what he said on the ice when he was shouting at Hunter.” They shared an awkward laugh at the situation. If someone had told Hayden when Shane got drafted that he would be recounting an insult like that to Jacki a few years later, he would’ve said they were crazy.
“You gonna say anything to Shane?” his wife asked after a quiet, contemplative moment.
He shook his head. “If he doesn’t want to talk about it, I’m not gonna push it. Wouldn’t want to bring up something like that, y’know.” Hayden flopped back on the couch. He knew his privilege, how lucky he was that the worst shit someone could say to him on the ice would be about his playing abilities or a crude joke about his sex life. He never had to worry about some of the stuff Shane had to, and it sucked. As close as he was with Shane, it was something he would never really understand. He let out a long exhale. “Shit.“
“Shit,” Jacki agreed.
“So we hate Scott Hunter now?”
“Obviously,” she agreed immediately. “Fuck that guy.”
He mimed toasting a glass, “Fuck that guy.”
Hayden didn’t fuck with racists in general, but especially not racists who came after his people. He knew Shane felt pressure to represent his community, to be the role model he never hadfor other kids like him, and assholes like Scott Hunter didn’t need to go and make that worse for him. Hunter was twice Shane’s age. Where did he get off acting like that? Absolute bullshit. There was no question about it. Hayden would hate Scott Hunter from this day forward for that.
~~~~~~~~~~
Shane was completely and utterly wracked with panic. There was a distinct possibility that his entire life was about to go up in flames. Okay, maybe that was dramatic, but things were not looking good. He’d gone to have dinner with Hayden’s family a few days after the fight with Hunter. It was a good time, even though he was pretty sure it was a pity invite, but after the kids went to bed, the cracks in his life started to appear.
“Thanks for having me, man,” Shane said as he and Hayden cleaned up the living room at the end of the night.
“Shane, you’ve been coming over for years, you’re practically family. You don’t need to thank me.”
“Oh, okay,” he conceded, awkwardly straightening the blanket on the couch, unsure what to say when all he could think about was whether his suspicions of the pity invite were correct. He couldn’t help it; he was stuck on it.
“Are you doing okay, man?” Hayden asked after a bit more all too heavy silence.
Well shit. He cast his gaze to the ceiling and sighed. First, his parents, and now Hayden. He should’ve just left Scott Hunter alone. “Did you just invite me over so you could check on me after the fight?” If Hayden was going to ask a loaded question, why couldn’t Shane ask what he was thinking about, too?
Hayden seemed briefly surprised by Shane’s bluntness. “Can you blame me?” He finally said. “It’s not like you.”
Shane was afraid of that. He knew he’d acted too impulsively going after Hunter, knew it was too much of a risk. The reason behind all of that was not something he wanted to unpack. It was stupid. He’d just hoped people would ignore it and move on. That was wishful thinking, though, and he knew it.
“Can’t say I blame you, though,” Hayden interrupted his train of thought. “I probably would’ve done the same thing.”
“Yeah.” Shane agreed flatly, trying to keep the rapidly approaching mental spiral over what that meant at bay, and continued cleaning up without another word. Thankfully, Hayden let the conversation move on.
Once he got home, Shane spent god knows how long pacing, trying to figure out what the hell Hayden meant. It’s not like anyone else heard what Hunter said to him, so why would Hayden know how he would respond? Even if he did hear, how would he know who Hunter was talking about? Were he and Rozanov that obvious? He’d written Hunter’s comment off as the older Captain being fed up with the younger pair and their ongoing rivalry. But if Hayden wouldn’t fight Hunter over a chirp about his rival. Hayden had to know more. Why else would he say he would do the same? Did other people know? Shane was going to go insane trying to decode what it all meant.
Should he tell Rozanov? Would it scare him away? Would he be mad? Was it worth it to tell him when Shane wasn’t even sure? He had no idea what to do.
Shane paused his pacing and took a seat on the foot of his bed. He took a few deep breaths in an attempt to calm his anxiety. Even if Hayden did know (which he had to remind himself he had no proof of, only suspicions based on subtext, and he was never the best at that), Shane was pretty sure he wouldn’t say anything.
With another deep breath, he pushed away the spiral and reminded himself of the facts. No one else heard what Hunter said. Even if they did, he and Rozanov were always careful, so there would be no reason for them to jump to the correct conclusions. And whatever Hayden thought the fight was about, he was a good enough friend not blab about it to anyone. The chances of his life going up in flames over this were astronomically small. Shane still had no clue what Hayden meant, but he was going to be okay.
~~~~~~~~~~
Scott Hunter didn’t know why Hayden Pike suddenly seemed to hate him. They’d always shared a mutual respect, had been friendly in every interaction they’d had in their mutual time in the league. But seemingly out of nowhere, Pike seemed to hate his guts. He’d caught the guy scowling at him from the opposing bench at several games, and when they faced off on the ice, he was quick to call Scott a myriad of insulting names.
The only possible explanation he could think of was the fight with Hollander nearly a year ago. He knew Pike could be protective of his captain, but fights were a normal part of hockey. Surely he wasn’t going to be that upset about a dumb fight that only came about because Hunter was out of patience for young players, and he and Hollander apparently were quick to find the right buttons to push. It wasn’t anything serious, just a mouthy kid and an irritated Scott. Plus, he and Hollander had quietly squashed their beef back in Sochi anyway.
“Hey, about the fight,” Shane had said as they walked to the men’s figure skating event.
“Don’t worry about it, kid.“
“We’re good?”
Scott nodded. “We’re good.”
So why on earth was Pike still giving him death stares and calling him an asshole anytime they ran into each other was beyond him. Now he stood at the bar for a ridiculous league event he didn’t even remember the reason behind, all of them blending together after so many years, eyeing Pike from across the room and contemplating just asking the guy what was up like Kip had recommended. Scott knew Kip was probably right; they were both adults and weren’t going to stop seeing each other anytime soon, it was better to go and deal with it. He just wasn’t really in the mood to get called a piece of shit tonight.
Eventually, Scott swallowed his pride, finished off his drink, and made his way across the room to Pike, who was now standing alone. “Hayden,” he greeted politely.
“What do you want, Hunter?” the other man responded, definitely not politely.
“Do you have a problem with me?”
Hayden rolled his eyes. “What gave it away?”
Scott sighed. “Listen, man, I’m just trying to figure out what I did wrong. We see each other a lot, and I don’t really want some unknown drama hanging over another season.”
“Unknown?” he scoffed, “Seriously?”
“Yeah, man. I can’t figure it out.”
“Maybe I just don’t like people who are assholes to my friends,” the other posited, taking a long drink and pointedly avoiding Scott’s gaze.
“Is this..? Is this about the fight with Hollander last year?” Pike snorted into his glass at that, as if it should be obvious to Scott. “Pike fights are part of hockey!”
“We both know that one was different.”
He had to fight back a groan, truly bewildered by the stubbornness of this man. Cause it happened after the game ended, this fight was a big deal? Pike couldn’t be serious. “For what it’s worth, Hollander and I worked things out in Sochi. He and I are good. Don’t know why you can’t chill out too.” Scott turned to walk away. If Pike didn’t want to talk like a grown-up, he wasn’t going to force it; he had enough going on in his own life. He was already searching the crowd for a teammate to hang out with for the rest of the event when the other player finally responded.
“Maybe Shane forgave you for being a racist piece of shit, but that doesn’t mean I have to?”
The words stopped Scott dead in his tracks. He turned back around to face Pike, brows furrowed, beyond confused. “What the fuck are you talking about?”
“I’m just not really a fan of racist assholes who throw slurs at players half their age,” he stared aggressively into Scott’s eyes as he spoke. “Sorry if that ‘drama’ ruins your season.”
“Pike, I genuinely have no clue what you’re on about,” Scott replied, trying his best to remain level. “I compared him to Rozanov, and it pissed him off. I should’ve backed down, but I didn’t; that’s on me! But I didn’t say anything racist. I don’t know what Hollander told you-“
“Wait, what?” Pike interrupted, pure shock and confusion covering his face. “You chirped at him about Rozanov?”
“Yeah, they were both pissing me off. Don’t even remember why now, to be honest.”
He watched in real time other man processed what Scott said, embarrassment taking over his face as it hit him. “Shit, man, Shane was so pissed that night and wouldn’t say why. I figured you must’ve said something really fucked up, that was the only thing that made sense.”
“Guess we both just got under each other's skin that night,”
“I’m so sorry, man.”
Scott shrugged. “I probably would’ve acted the same if places were swapped.”
“Still.” Pike groaned, face in his hands. “Can I buy you a drink to make up for it?”
“It’s an open bar.”
“Right,” he laughed. “Next time then.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Scott chuckled in response. “We’ll kick your ass next week, and it’ll all be even.”
“In your dreams, Hunter.”
The other man extended his hand, and Scott took it, resolving the last of the tension with a shake. He smiled to himself as he left and made his way over to where Carter was animatedly telling some team owner a story, glad he could finally clear things up with Hayden. Already, he looked forward to telling Kip about the whole thing later. Even if they were only friends now, he knew Kip would appreciate the silly misunderstanding. Maybe one day, after he retired, they could try again, and he could have Kip by his side at events like these, no longer having to wait to share in a satisfying resolution.