Chapter Text
Mack made his way into the locker room with the rest of his teammates after another long practice. Though they hadn’t won quite as many games as Mack would have liked by that point in the season, the Sharks were working hard, playing well as a team and got along well with each other.
But for Mack, there was one person who he had gotten closer with than anyone else–Will Smith.
The two were best friends, practically inseparable and had insane chemistry on the ice. Things were just easy between them and Mack was happy he had a buddy the same age that he could share the highs and lows of the NHL with.
As he slipped his shoulder pads off, he turned to look at his best friend to see how he was holding up after the tiring practice. Will had also taken off his jersey and shoulder pads and was currently taking a puff of his inhaler.
Mack paused for a moment. Will had asthma. It wasn’t a secret or anything, but seeing him with the inhaler was always a bit weird for Mack.
Will was wicked fast on the ice and had a nasty shot. He could skate as well as anyone Mack had ever met…so the idea that he also had asthma was a little strange.
Of course, Will never made a big deal about it and if Mack hadn’t seen him with the inhaler a bunch of times then he wouldn’t have believed it. “You good, man,” Mack asked.
“Yep,” Will answered, tossing his inhaler back in his bag.
“You sure,” Mack pressed, noticing that Will was still breathing pretty heavily despite the fact that practice had been over for a good ten minutes and that Will had just used his inhaler. Mack also noticed that Will was looking tired and a little pale.
Will glanced over at Mack. “Yeah, dude,” he answered, his tone suggesting the question was silly. “I’m just a little tired from practice and I want a shower.”
As he started taking his gear off, Will made sure to keep the smile on his face so Mack didn’t get more suspicious than he already was. Because even though Will was claiming he was okay, he knew damn well he wasn’t.
No, he hadn’t been lying, he was tired after the long practice, but he also knew something else was going on…something worse that Mack didn’t know about.
~~~~~
“So, what do you think, man,” Mack asked, slipping his bag over his shoulders. “You wanna head to Jumbo’s place?” Everyone had taken their showers and were dressed in casual clothes, going their separate ways, ready for the rest of the day.
“Actually, do you think you could catch a ride from someone else, and I can meet up with you later,” Will countered, hoping he sounded casual. He ran a hand through his still wet hair then slipped a baseball cap on. “I’m gonna go see one of the trainers and I’m not sure how long it’s going to take.”
“Why, what’s wrong,” questioned Mack, giving his friend a quick once over, looking for an injury.
Will froze for a second. He should have known Mack was going to have questions, especially when he noticed that Will had been so tired after practice. “Oh…um…I want him to check my ribs. I took a couple of bad hits and they’re just a little sore. I want to see if he just wants me to ice them or if he thinks I should wrap them or whatever.”
“I mean…I can just wait.”
“Naw, like I said, I don’t know how long it’s going to take. Besides, when I’m done I have a few errands to run. I’ll text you afterwards.”
“Alright, sure man, I’ll catch you later.” As Mack walked away, he couldn’t help but get the feeling that Will was being a little evasive, which was weird considering Mack and Will told each other everything…oh well, Mack would just find out later what the trainer said.
~~~~~
“I wanna go see one of the trainers…I want him to check my ribs…”
As Will walked to the trainers office, the words he had said to his best friend ran through his mind. Checking his ribs…yeah…well…not exactly…but apparently it sounded good enough to get Mack to leave.
Will knocked on the door and walked in the small room and found the trainer that he often worked with, Kyle, stocking some supplies; a common occurrence after a practice. “Hi Will, how are you doing?”
“Okay. I kind of picked up a cough over the weekend and practice was a little rough today, breathing wise I mean,” Will said. He had been in these situations many times over the years and knew it was best to get right to the point.
Concern immediately filled the older man’s face. “Did you take a puff of your inhaler?”
Will nodded. “Right after practice. But my chest still feels a little tight.”
And then, as if on cue, Will coughed a couple of times. It didn’t last long, but given Will’s lung issues, Kyle wasn’t taking any chances. “I see what you mean and you do seem a little pale. Why don’t you slip that shirt off and hop up here,” he said, patting the exam table.
Will followed the simple instructions, used to the routine after almost six months of working with Kyle. The older man pulled out his stethoscope and walked over to the young player. He put one hand on Will’s shoulder. “Alright, I want to hear you breathe a little bit.” He began moving the stethoscope to different areas around Will’s chest. “Deep breath in…good let it out…and in…now let it out…in one more time…and out. Very good.”
Will managed to hold off coughing while Kyle was listening to his lungs, but after all the deep breathing, he turned away and coughed a couple more times. “Sorry,” Will said weakly.
“You have nothing to apologize for.” Kyle walked over to the minifridge he kept in the corner of the room and pulled out a bottle of water. “Here,” he said, handing the bottle to Will.
“Thanks.” He opened the bottle and took a few long sips. Though the gesture was simple enough, Will couldn’t deny how good the cool water tasted. “So how bad did my lungs sound?”
“Well, I don’t think there’s anything major cause for alarm just yet, but with your history, we’ll definitely keep an eye on things.”
Will sighed. His history…yeah…that was a word for it. Sure, everyone knew about Will’s asthma–it was kind of hard to hide the inhaler–but there was something that Will hadn’t told any of his teammates.
He had been born with underdeveloped lungs.
It didn’t sound like much, but the truth was that because of the way he was born, problems with his lungs had affected Will’s entire life–especially considering that he was an athlete. As a baby and young child he had been in and out of the hospital a lot due to his weak lungs and no one was surprised by the diagnosis of asthma when he was five.
Though he had been able to do most things as he had gotten older, having smaller lungs had always had an impact on Will’s life. Apart from the asthma, he was a lot more susceptible to respiratory issues, like coughs or pneumonia. Common illnesses that kept most kids out of school for a few days could sideline Will for a couple of weeks–and it had.
Though his parents and the team of doctors they worked with tried to stay on top of everything and keep him healthy, Will had been in the hospital a handful of times over the years as a teenager because of different respiratory issues.
Of course, playing hockey at a high level wasn’t particularly good for him, or his lungs, which his doctors had pointed out for years, but Will didn’t care.
Hockey was his life.
It had always been his dream to play hockey in the NHL and now he was doing it, and he wasn’t going to let anything stop him.
Having weaker lungs just meant that Will had to take better care of himself and be a little more proactive when it came to his breathing, which is why he had stopped by to see the trainer the moment he felt like things were a bit off.
“Okay, so keeping an eye on things,” said Will, “what does that mean? What do I need to do?”
“Well, I’m going to start a log of your symptoms, and I want you to start coming to see me before and after both games and practices so I can evaluate if anything is changing.”
“You mean getting worse.”
“Essentially yes.”
“And if it does,” Will asked, hoping the answer wasn’t automatically being pulled out of games.
“Well, it depends on how things go. We could be looking at something as simple as doing a few more breathing treatments or giving you oxygen a couple of times, but it could also mean that you have to sit out for a while if there’s an infection or something.”
“That’s the last thing I want.”
“I know, which is why I’m going to do everything I can to keep you on that ice.”
That was one thing the young player liked about Kyle–he understood Will’s desire to play despite his condition. When Will was younger, trainers and doctors tried to keep him off the ice and spent more time fighting with Will than trying to work with him.
No, it wasn’t good for him, but if Will could play hockey, then he was going to play, no matter what it took.
“Okay, so more visits to your office, a log of symptoms, anything else?”
“Make sure you’re doing some of those deep breathing exercises we’ve talked about before, especially between drills, at practice and shifts in games.”
Will nodded. That was simple enough.
Kyle added a bit more information. “Drink lots of water, don’t be out in the cold any more than you need to, and you should start taking some cough medicine. Do you have any?”
Will nodded again. With his poor lungs, he always managed to have cough syrup on hand. “Yeah, I have some at home that usually works pretty well for me.”
“Okay, good. Well I’m glad you came in. Even though there’s not a lot we can do right now we’re going to want to stay on top of this. And I’m going to talk with Dr. Ryan as well to see if he wants to make any adjustments.”
That wasn’t surprising. Dr. Ryan was one of the physicians the Sharks employed–Will had been in to see him several times.
“In the meantime, I want to do a breathing treatment before I send you home.”
Will nodded and took a few more long sips of his water while Kyle set up the nebulizer. He’d had breathing treatments like this many times in the trainer’s office and was familiar with the routine.
The exam table was propped up at an angle so Will leaned back and settled in, knowing the treatment usually took fifteen to twenty minutes.
Kyle handed Will the plastic mask and he rested it over his nose and mouth the way he had dozens of times before.
The trainer turned on the machine before placing a hand on Will’s shoulder once again. “Just relax Will. Let the medicine do its work and we’ll get you home.”
He nodded again and let the familiar feeling of the medicine work its way through his body and into his lungs.
Will tried to take it easy. One breathing treatment and a small cough was no big deal. But he had been down this road before…and didn’t want these minor issues to turn into him missing games or his spot on the team being put in jeopardy.
And Will definitely didn’t want his new teammates finding out about his condition…because once the information was out in the open, people treated him differently and he had to work ten times as hard on the ice just to prove that he was a good player.
And Will knew he was a good player and that he belonged on the San Jose Sharks. He just hoped his lungs could keep up with the high expectations he had for himself.