Work Text:
🏒 CENTAURS TEAM CHAT 🏒
11:47 PM
Luca:
Anyone awake?
Wyatt:
???
Wyatt:
Why are YOU awake?
Wyatt:
Is the world ending?
Bood:
Guys.
Bood:
Everybody stay calm.
Bood:
Luca Haas is online after bedtime.
Nick:
This feels unnatural.
Troy:
I thought he powered down at 10pm every night.
Luca:
You guys are so rude.
Wyatt:
Answer the question.
Wyatt:
Why are you awake?
Luca:
Couldn’t sleep.
Bood:
🤨
Nick:
Suspicious.
Troy:
Very suspicious.
Luca:
It’s not suspicious.
Wyatt:
You literally go to bed before half the team has eaten dinner.
Luca:
Healthy sleep habits are important.
Bood:
Look at him.
Bood:
He’s deflecting.
Normally, Luca would have responded with some sarcastic comment. Instead there was a pause.
Not a long pause.
Just long enough.
Because everyone on the team knew Luca.
They knew he answered messages almost immediately. They knew he was rarely awake this late. They knew that if he was voluntarily sitting in the team group chat at nearly midnight, something was off.
Troy:
Everything okay?
Another pause.
Luca:
Yeah.
Wyatt:
Liar.
Luca:
Excuse me?
Wyatt:
That was a liar pause.
Nick:
Agreed.
Bood:
The council has reached a unanimous decision.
Bood:
You’re being weird.
Luca:
I’m not being weird.
Wyatt:
You’re in a hockey team group chat at midnight.
Wyatt:
Voluntarily.
Wyatt:
That’s weird.
Luca:
Fair.
Shane:
You okay, kid?
The chat immediately quieted.
Not literally, but close.
There was something about Shane asking that made everyone stop joking for a second.
Because Shane only used that tone when he was genuinely concerned.
Luca stared at his screen.
He could lie.
Probably should lie.
It was stupid.
He was twenty-three years old. Professional athlete. Living his dream.
And yet somehow he’d woken up feeling like a scared twelve-year-old kid again.
Luca:
Just couldn’t sleep.
Shane:
Okay.
Shane:
Why?
Luca sighed.
Unfortunately, Shane was annoyingly perceptive.
Luca:
Bad dream.
Troy:
Oh.
Nick:
Sorry, buddy.
Wyatt:
Nightmare?
Luca:
Yeah.
Bood:
Those suck.
Luca:
It was dumb.
Shane:
Doesn’t matter.
Shane:
Still upset you.
Luca stared at the message.
Still upset you.
Simple.
Matter-of-fact.
No judgment.
For some reason that made his chest ache.
Luca:
I guess.
Wyatt:
Want distraction?
Bood:
I have seventeen pictures of my dog.
Nick:
Only seventeen?
Bood:
For tonight.
Troy:
He’s limiting himself.
Luca:
😂
Wyatt:
THERE.
Wyatt:
WE GOT A LAUGH.
Luca:
Relax.
The conversation drifted for a few minutes.
Memes. Bad jokes. Wyatt somehow managing to send three completely unrelated photos of himself.
Normally that would have worked.
Normally Luca would have laughed and gone back to bed.
But tonight it wasn’t helping.
Because every time he put his phone down, the dream came creeping back.
The feeling.
The fear.
The loneliness.
Eventually Shane noticed.
Of course he did.
Shane:
Still thinking about it?
Luca hesitated.
Luca:
Maybe.
Troy:
You don’t have to talk about it.
Nick:
But you can if you want.
Another pause.
Then:
Luca:
It was about when I was younger.
The chat immediately slowed.
Nobody interrupted.
Nobody pushed.
They simply waited.
Luca:
Before I moved away.
Luca:
Before junior hockey.
Luca:
Before any of this.
Wyatt:
Yeah?
Luca:
I dreamed I was a kid again.
Luca:
And everybody kept telling me I wasn’t good enough.
The typing indicators vanished.
No jokes.
No teasing.
Just listening.
Luca:
That I wasn’t strong enough.
Luca:
That I wasn’t talented enough.
Luca:
That hockey wasn’t going to work out.
Luca:
That I should just quit.
The words looked stupid once they were written down.
Childish.
Embarrassing.
He almost deleted them.
Luca:
I know it’s dumb.
Luca:
Because obviously it worked out.
Luca:
But it felt real.
Luca:
And when I woke up I couldn’t stop thinking about it.
A message appeared almost immediately.
Troy:
That’s not dumb.
Then another.
Nick:
Not even a little.
Bood:
Dreams don’t have to make sense to hurt.
Wyatt:
Yeah.
Wyatt:
Your brain just likes being dramatic sometimes.
Luca:
That’s comforting.
Wyatt:
You’re welcome.
A new typing bubble appeared.
Then disappeared.
Then appeared again.
Everyone knew who it was before the message even arrived.
Ilya:
People who say you not good enough are idiots.
Wyatt:
The captain has entered the chat.
Ilya:
I serious.
Ilya:
Very stupid people.
Luca:
Thanks?
Ilya:
You welcome.
The next message came almost immediately.
Ilya:
You make NHL.
Ilya:
You play against best players in world.
Ilya:
You score goals.
Ilya:
You work hard.
Ilya:
Dream is wrong.
Simple.
Blunt.
Very Ilya.
And somehow it made Luca’s eyes sting.
Because it wasn’t really about the dream.
Not entirely.
It was about being young.
About being scared.
About wondering if you’d ever be enough.
Every athlete knew that feeling.
Every single one.
Shane:
You know what I remember?
Luca:
What?
Shane:
Your first training camp.
Wyatt:
Oh no.
Bood:
Baby Luca stories.
Nick:
Excellent.
Shane:
You looked terrified.
Luca:
I was.
Shane:
Exactly.
Shane:
And you still showed up every day.
Shane:
You worked harder than almost anyone there.
Shane:
That’s what I remember.
Luca swallowed.
Suddenly it was getting hard to read the screen.
Bood:
Same.
Troy:
Me too.
Nick:
You were always the first guy on the ice.
Wyatt:
Which was annoying.
Wyatt:
Because some of us enjoy sleeping.
Luca:
😂
Wyatt:
There he is again.
The chat started moving faster after that.
Stories appeared.
Memories.
Moments Luca had forgotten.
His first NHL goal.
The first time he’d accidentally fallen asleep on a team flight and drooled on Boodram’s shoulder.
The rookie dinner disaster.
The time he’d gotten lost in a hotel and somehow ended up on the wrong floor.
The more they talked, the lighter everything felt.
The nightmare slowly losing its grip.
Until eventually—
Luca:
Thanks.
Wyatt:
For?
Luca:
I don’t know.
Luca:
Just.
Luca:
For being here.
The chat grew quiet again.
Not awkward.
Soft.
Comfortable.
Like sitting in a room with people who knew you.
People who cared.
Troy:
Always.
Nick:
That’s what teammates are for.
Bood:
Family, kid.
Luca stared at the screen.
Family.
It was funny.
He’d moved across an ocean chasing a dream.
Left home.
Left friends.
Left everything familiar.
And somehow he’d ended up here.
With this ridiculous group of hockey players.
These idiots who spent ninety percent of their lives making fun of one another.
Yet somehow always knew when somebody needed support.
Luca:
Love you guys.
There was a three-second pause.
Then absolute chaos.
Wyatt:
SCREENSHOT.
Wyatt:
EVERYONE SCREENSHOT.
Nick:
HE SAID IT.
Bood:
FRAME IT.
Troy:
I never thought I’d see the day.
Luca:
I regret everything.
Wyatt:
Too late.
Bood:
Already saved.
Nick:
Printed.
Troy:
Hung in a museum.
Luca:
You’re all the worst.
Then, buried among the jokes, one final message appeared.
Ilya:
Good.
The chat slowed.
Luca:
Good what?
Ilya:
Good you come here.
Luca:
What?
Ilya:
Instead of sitting alone.
The chat went quiet.
Because suddenly everyone understood.
Understood why Luca had messaged.
Why he hadn’t gone back to sleep.
Why he’d opened the team chat in the first place.
Not because he needed solutions.
Not because he needed advice.
Because he needed people.
Ilya:
Nobody should sit alone when upset.
Luca stared at the screen.
His vision blurred slightly.
Shane:
Agreed.
Bood:
Absolutely.
Troy:
Always.
Nick:
Any time.
Wyatt:
Even if it’s three in the morning.
Wyatt:
Though I will complain about it.
Luca:
Of course you will.
Wyatt:
Professionally.
For the first time since waking up, Luca realized he felt tired again.
Not exhausted.
Not emotionally drained.
Just sleepy.
Comfortably sleepy.
The nightmare felt distant now.
Small.
Like something left behind.
Luca:
Think I’m gonna try sleeping again.
Bood:
Good.
Nick:
Get some rest.
Troy:
Night, buddy.
Wyatt:
Don’t let your brain be stupid.
Luca:
I’ll try.
Shane:
Night, kid.
A final message appeared before Luca locked his phone.
Ilya:
Goodnight, Luca.
Ilya:
Dream about scoring goals instead.
Luca laughed out loud.
For the first time all night, the sound came easily.
And as he set his phone down and curled back beneath the blankets, the last thing he felt wasn’t fear or loneliness.
It was the quiet certainty that no matter how bad the dream was, he would never have to face it alone.
Not anymore.