Chapter Text
Somehow, Shane pulls himself together and plays the rest of the game.
The last five minutes of play are a bit of a blur in his mind. Montreal wins. After seeing Hayden laid out on the ice like that, Shane had struggled to stay focused.
Sure, it’t not a life-threatening injury. But human ankles are not supposed to bend that way. Shane had almost vomited on the ice just from imaging the pain his friend was in.
When the final buzzer sounds, he returns to the locker room in a daze.
JJ thumps him on the back. ‘Are you heading to the hospital, buddy?’
‘Yeah, erm. Shit. Which one?’ Shane starts stripping out of his gear.
JJ shouts for everyone in the room to hear. ‘Anyone know which hospital they took Pike to?’
Someone – Shane’s not sure who – says, ‘Royal Alex. It’s not far. You want me to call you a cab?’
JJ says something Shane doesn’t quite catch.
Shane’s been playing hockey for most of his life. He’s been in the NHL for more than eight years. He’s seen plenty of injuries – some of them life-altering. But there’s something about the really painful ones that turn his stomach. It’s almost like he can feel the other person’s pain himself.
He finishes undressing, showers, and returns to his locker. Muscle memory guides him as he puts his suit on. Only once he’s dressed does he take his phone out and unlock it.
The first text is the one he should have expected.
Then he sends another.
Because that’s what you’re supposed to say, right?
He clicks on the other waiting message.
Shane frowns, then double-checks the sender.
Shane’s trying to figure out how to respond to that when JJ puts his arm around him and steers him towards the exit. ‘Come on, buddy. Cab’s here.’