Work Text:
June
Claude could remember it like any other day.
Wake up, go for a run, shower, breakfast, morning skate.
He found himself lacing up in a different room than usual—something seemed out of place, but he couldn’t figure it out. He went through practice, nailing each drill, talking to Lavy and chirping the shit out of Bryz.
Then he thought of the funniest thing to say to Danny, and he skated over to the bench during a water break.
“Hey, Danny!” Claude called. But he didn’t see a greasy head of black hair turn his way.
“I don’t think he’s here today.” He heard Sean say. Claude just furrowed his brow and skated away without drinking any water. He skated around absent-mindedly for a few seconds until the next drill started. He felt himself simply going through the motions. He looked up from the ice to find Lavy lazily gripping a stick in his gloves, staring at Claude.
After practice, Claude drove over to Danny’s house, nearly speeding into the driveway. Claude had his garage code memorised. That’s how Danny knew he was coming; he would hear the garage door open.
Claude jogged into the garage, squeezing past Danny’s car and simultaneously hitting the garage door button. Claude crept through the door to the house, making sure not to make a huge commotion.
“Danny?”
Claude found himself in a silent house. Not even the boys came to greet him.
“Danny?”
He darted through the kitchen and dining room and living room. He was only greeted with the high-pitched static of the telly. Claude grabbed the telly remote and turned it off. Claude tossed the remote onto the couch and made his way upstairs.
“Danny?”
Claude found himself standing in Danny’s doorway, gazing upon Danny, curled up in a destroyed bed; pillows and blankets all over the floor and Danny’s hair was a mess.
“Danny?”
“No.”
Claude walked over to Danny’s bedside, and tugged at his sheets.
“The rumours were all true, Claude.”
This made Claude freeze, but his put a shaky hand on Danny’s side.
“Which ones?”
“You know which ones.”
Claude sat down beside Danny and rubbed his back with a trembling hand, noticing the quick rise and fall of Danny’s body.
“Danny, breathe. Please breathe. Don’t do this.”
“Claude…”
Danny rolled over and simply stared at Claude, his face red and blotchy. He looked like a mess. Claude reached for his face and pushed the hair from his eyes.
“It’ll be okay.” Claude whispered, wrapping a protective arm around Danny.
“What will I tell them, Claude? That we’re leaving Philly? And for god knows where…oh god, Claude…”
“I’ll be here for you, Danny. Okay?”
“Yeah.”
Claude managed to get Danny to sit up, and Claude pulled him into a tight embrace, making sure to put a hand behind Danny’s head.
“We’ll just play it by ear, okay?”
“Okay…”
Claude could feel it in Danny’s presence—Danny was broken. No matter how Holmgren told him, Danny wasn’t going to take this lightly. And Claude knew that Danny would blame it all on himself. But it wasn’t his entire fault. It’s just politics—the nature of the game.
“Claude?”
“Yeah?”
“Can you stay here for a bit?”
“Yeah, man, whatever you need.”
“I really don’t want to open that bottle downstairs. It’s calling me. Hah…”
“Don’t even fucking do that, okay?”
Claude released Danny and smiled at him. Claude felt the tug of tears deep in his throat as he watched tears roll down Danny’s face.
“Hey, buddy. Guess what.”
“W-What, Claude?”
“I can speak German.”
“Haha, can you?”
“Ja, ich liebe dich.”