Chapter Text
“This is it, folks, we’re reaching the last minute of the first OT. The three-three tied series relies entirely on this three-three tied game. Isn’t that funny?”
“It is quite a… uh—fickle coincidence, Sean. And the Canes call a timeout before we reach the five minute mark of the period.” The television cuts to the commentators.
“I can’t say I have any predictions as to what will happen now.”
Now, to Vegas.
Then, to Carolina.
“Well, by the looks of their discussions, neither do they. Now Vegas really needs to work on their defence.”
“Both sides do, really. They seem to not even be able to have a good possession of the puck before it gets taken over.”
“Carolina’s offense is looking better than Vegas, though, and Sean, I think the lineups for this overtime will be their hardest hits yet.”
“I completely agree. Now, it’s back to the game.”
“And Eichel wins that drop, heading it straight back to Doroferyev. Making the pass onto Theodore—who can’t receive the puck, Ehlers takes the steal and zooms past the others toward the net, onto Staal, and back to Ehlers—shoots! And a (mediocre) stop by H*rt.”
“The whistle is blown before nearly 40 seconds left of gametime. Now, Hertl wins the draw–intercepted quickly by Jarvis. Carolina is setting up a nice one here. Jarvis, to Slavin, Staal–shoots–stopped by Karlsson, shot straight across the ice, Marner switches on and he’s going straight down, speeding to Bussi in net. He breaks away from Chatfield, and shoots–and scores! Mitch Marner has done it! The Knights have won the Stanley Cup!”
“With only 16 seconds left, Mitch Marner scores the winning goal.”
“And for the second time, the Golden Knights have officially gotten the coveted cup.”
The camera switches back and forth to the team, all huddling around him, to the coaches, to the disappointed Canes who begin to line up for handshakes.
“And Mitch Marner is in the center of these celebrations. Mitch Marner, in his first year as a Knight, and his first time in the finals has scored the winning goal to bring his team the Stanley Cup.”
“Not only his first time in the finals–his first time experiencing the playoffs this far, let’s not forget.”
Auston can’t bear to watch anymore. Nausea spreads in his stomach as he watches Mitch, along with his other teammates, jump and hug and get interviewed. Ugh.
The words all fade away, he zones out the TV and just stares at the wall, occasionally catching a glimpse of that 93 from the corner of his eye. In the dark of his apartment, he has nothing better to do than watch.
So he does. He watches as that damned cup is presented out onto the ice. He watches as they say some dumb introduction to the team.
“Mark Stone. C’mon over.” The crowd erupts in cheers as Stone grabs the cup, bringing it over to the team. He then skates around the ice, and Auston knows what will happen next.
And just like he expected, the inevitable happens. Once Stone is finished with his lap, he passes the cup over to Mitch.
“And Mitch Marner is next to receive the cup, the game winning goal scorer, and also a vital part of the team this past playoffs. He’s been on the ice, scoring points nearly every game.”
He’s grinning ear to ear as he receives the cup, hoisting it into the air. Auston’s chest hurts because he knows that should’ve been him passing the cup to Mitch. He knows that could’ve been the two of them instead.
Mitch starts his skate around, holding the silver cup that the two have talked about endlessly, what they would do once they finally won it. He just thought that they would be winning it together.
But as Mitch turns the last corner, he does something that makes Auston’s heart stop beating.
He tears his eyes away from the roaring crowd, and takes a glance at the camera, and mouths,
“This is for you.”
And with his fingers, he forms a three, then a four, and skates away from the camera.
It happens so fast, but it’s enough to register in his brain.
“Woah, did you catch that, Chris?”
“I believe it was a three to four referring to the score, Sean. He seems stoked to have this win.”
“Aboslutely, and he passes it on to…”
Auston knows it’s not for the score. What Auston doesn’t know is why he would do that. The words engrave into the back of his head.This is for you.