Chapter Text
Carl’s furious. It’s odd for the Swede to lose his temper and especially only a few months of joining a new team, but he heads to practice steaming. Flower and Murray better watch out during practice today because Carl’s fully prepared to lay a few snipes into the goal. He enters the locker room and everybody there knows. They’ve seen the stories online and Sid cautiously approaches Carl.
“Calm down,” Sid whispers, though his own frustration leaks out.
“The better question is why aren’t you upset?” Carl hisses.
“I am, but getting frustrated isn’t going to help anyone,” Sid said. “What? You think this will help him? You think this will change things?”
“It’ll show him we care,” Carl says.
“We all care, but we also have the playoffs and the Stanley Cup to focus on and we have things that we can achieve . You can’t change the roster,” Sid said.
Carl knew logically that Sid was right, but Carl was used to demonstrative signs not only of affection but also of anger. The cool dismissal and unsettlement of Sid and the other teammates didn’t align with Carl’s explosive anger. For a split second, Carl wonders if this is all too convenient for them. Sid, Geno, Murray, even Olli all benefit by Phil not being called up for the US roster. But even though he’s only been there for a few months, Carl knows that they are good people and care in varying degrees about Phil and shoved that thought away.
“Hey,” Phil says. And for a moment, the whole locker room pauses and turns to Phil. He’s still dressed in casual clothes with his hockey gear in the bag.
Then Horny, thank God for Horny, was the first to respond, “Rolling in late today, man.”
“Yeah, just slept through the alarm,” Phil says, though the excuse is weak to everyone’s ears. He heads to his stall and starts getting changed and eventually they all shuffle out onto the ice.
Carl wants to stop and hug him right there because it’s obvious that Phil is trying to seem unaffected by it all, but Carl can tell. He knows, because deep in his gut, he had had a small glimmer of hope that he might make the Swedish team’s roster.
It was different for Carl, though. For him, his own placement on the team was a longshot, so he couldn’t be too disappointed, but Phil being excluded from it was downright criminal.
Instead, he just taps Phil’s back in a gesture of support as he waddles out to the rink on his skates.
Carl’s practicing ruthlessly. “Save some for the game,” Flower chirps after Carl lays another shot past the goalie’s shoulder. Carl chuckles, but knows that there’s truth to Flower’s warning. It’s not like he trying to hurt the goalies, but he’s just so frustrated and upset that the only options he has is sending sharp snipes in the goal or punching the wall. He figures that putting more effort into the practice is the more acceptable way of venting his frustrations.
“Getting you ready,” Carl says. Flower just rolls his eyes, the gesture so obvious even underneath his goalie mask. Carl doesn’t really calm down throughout the practice, and even the rookies know not to mess with him. He avoids hits, but the team doesn’t push him either. He’s sweating as though he’d put in a couple of shifts during a game.
“We’re all upset, man,” Kris says, as he gently squeezes Carl’s shoulder and pushes past him into the locker room.
“Want to grab drinks later?” Olli asks. It’s a general question, but Carl knows it’s directed more towards Phil. A few of the older guys agree, hoping that Phil will join them, but he politely declines saying that he’s tired and going to take a nap.
Carl knows that it’s a high probability that Phil will go home and sleep, but he can’t help but wonder if it’d be better to come out with the rest of the team. Honestly, Carl doesn’t want to leave Phil alone.
“I think I’m going to pass this time, too, but thanks Olli.”
Phil’s one of the first to leave and Carl ponders if it would be better to give him some time alone for a while, but he finds himself driving towards Phil’s condo after practice. If Phil’s surprised to see him, he doesn’t show it, but instead opens the door up and invites Carl in.
“Um, I was wondering if you wanted company,” Carl says.
“I was planning on taking a nap,” Phil says dodging the question.
“Okay, I can just go then,” Carl says ready to turn around and head out the door.
“-but I think they’re showing some old games on ESPN if you want to watch, too.”
“Yeah, that sounds nice,” Carl says.
They sit with a generous gap of space between them as if making space for the elephant in the room.
“You know, I’m not that upset about it,” Phil says. He looking straight at the screen and if Carl didn’t know better, he’d believe his words.
“You should be,” Carl spits out, though they both know it’s not directed at Phil.
“Is that why you were weird today?” Phil asks.
“I’m so fucking pissed off,” Carl says.
“You didn’t get picked either,” Phil says as if he needs to remind carl.
“But it’s different, though,” Carl says.
“How?” Phil asks.
“Because it’s you,” Carl says.
Phil just shrugs, “I’m used to it, I guess.”
“But you shouldn’t be,” Carl stands up and the sudden move startles Phil just slightly. “You shouldn’t just put up with the way that Toronto treated you, and the fact that they didn’t have a tribute for you, and the fact that you weren’t called up. Because you shouldn’t just accept it. It’s okay to be upset about it, we’re all upset for you, and if you won’t be upset, then I will.”
Phil’s eyes widen and he digests Carl’s words.
“Um, thanks, why though?”
“Because we’re your team,” Carl says, as if it’s obvious. “And we have your back.”
“Thanks,” Phil says.
They sit in silence for a while, and Carl wonders if they are done talking about it, but then Phil starts talking.
“You know what’s fucking ridiculous,” Phil says with resigned acceptance. “I had a rough couple of years in Toronto, but I finally thought I was doing well here, I finally thought that I had found my match, but I’m still not good enough. I don’t know what more I can do, I really don’t.”
There was nothing Carl could say to soothe Phil, so instead he just scoots across the couch and hugs Phil tightly. Carl was notorious for his warm, affectionate hugs, but this one was different. If he could, he would have sent all his happiness and warmth for Phil to absorb, but the only thing that he could do was hold him.
He feels Phil’s fingers press into his back tightly as if he never wanted to let him go, and Carl just holds on tighter.
When they finally separate, Phil’s eyes are suspiciously red and he clears his throat although Carl doesn’t point it out.
“Fuck them,” Carl says.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah,” Carl says. “How about this? Instead of heading to Toronto, why don’t I fly to Wisconsin and you can show me around? I can see if there’s more than just cows and cheese.”
“Fuck you,” Phil says, but for the first time, Carl sees a genuine smile. “You really want to come and see Wisconsin?”
“Well, I doubt I’ll get you to fly to Sweden,” Carl says.
“Well, that’s true, but I mean you want to spend time there, with me?” Phil asks, a little insecurity creeping into his voice.
“Can’t break up the H and the K for a full summer, okay?” Carl asks.
Phil nods. “That’s unimaginable.”
And as they finish watching the game, Carl thinks everything might be okay.