Words cannot express how much I wish I could have stayed curled up under my covers this morning. I don't want to be here. I don't want to see Shanny again. I don't really want to see anyone. I especially don't want to see Steve again, but of course he has to come to the game rather than staying home like a normal injured person.

If it weren't enough that I just want to be alone and I can't be, we're playing THEM. It's been two years and I'm still terrified every time I see that team on the schedule, still shudder when I see the jersey I used to wear. It doesn't even help that they've changed captains. It doesn't help at all, because I'm still scared. Because I'm still obsessive about making sure the lock on my locker works. Because I still hold my breath when my teammates ask me if I have a girlfriend. Because I can't stop remembering.

I'm so pathetic. Anyone else would have grown up and gotten over it, but I can't. I can't just forget what happened, because if I forgot, it could happen again, and I'm not sure I could survive it the second time. Brooding over the past isn't going to do me any good, though. The best way to get over it is to win and show them what they lost. Right?

We win, but I don’t really contribute too much. I'm too busy trying not to make an idiot of myself. None of them need any more ammunition to use against me. After the game, everyone is tired, but giddy from the overtime win. I feel crowded. Again. How bad off am I when I get freaked out just being around my team mates?

I step into the hallway to get some air. Getting out of the hot locker room feels quite good. I close my eyes and lean back my head, until I hear footsteps coming closer and closer...

My rising mood is crushed when I see the person walking towards me. "Hey, Boyd, nice game," says Jason Smith.

I sigh. "Hey. You too. Congrads on being named captain." I can't hold my tongue. "I'm sure Doug would be real happy with you following in his footsteps."

Jason grins. If one didn't know the history, our conversation would seem civil, even friendly. "Oh yeah. Speaking of Doug..." he leans closer, "does your new team know?"

Oh God. This is not good. "Not that it's any of your business, but no."

His grin gets bigger. "That doesn't seem to be a wise decision. I mean, telling them would probably make it go a lot easier than them just finding out. You wouldn't want a repeat of what happened on this team, would you?"

I feel like my insides are freezing. What do I say to that? Of course I don’t want it to happen again, but...it wouldn't. it couldn’t. No. No. Not again. Never again. I won't make it through again, I'm not strong enough....

"Smith? What are you doing over here?" Steve's voice echoes through the hallway, and my first thought is that he is my savior and my second thought is that he can't see me like this, and I don't have time for a third thought because he is dragging me away, away from Smith, and I let him do it because I think if I stay here I'm going to do something like cry....

Steve pulls me into the empty trainer's room, and shutting the door behind us, guides me onto a bench. "Boyd?" His voice is gentle, but I can't stop shaking. Steve sighs and grabs a bottle of water out of the refrigerator. "Here." He hands the bottle to me. "Have some water. You need to calm down." I drink the water obediently, but it doesn't help. I cross my arms over my stomach, trying to hold myself still. Steve sits down next to me, and I try not to panic any more than I already am. "What did Smith say to you?" he asks.

"Nothing," I whisper "It was nothing." He can't find out. He can't.

Steve makes a noise of disbelief. "You're awfully shook up for it to have been nothing."

"It was just about something that happened while I was in Edmonton. It's not important." I try to slow my breathing down to a normal rate.

"If you're this upset, it's important." He sighs softly. "Whatever it is, just tell me. I'm not going to get mad or think any less of you."

It's so tempting just to let go and to tell him everything, but I can't. I can't. "Thanks, but really, it's nothing."

There is a long pause, in which the tension in the air pushes down on me like a weight. Finally, Steve asks "Were you involved with someone?"

My head snaps up. "No!" He can't think that. It will all be over if he thinks that. "No matter what they said, I didn't, I swear..."

"Who?" Steve blinks, facing me. "No matter what who said?"

"No one," I murmur. This is gotten so far out of my control.

"Boyd." Steve's voice is serious, and I find my eyes drawn to his, and he holds my gaze and I can't look away and I know immediately that I'm going to do whatever he asks. "Tell me what happened in Edmonton."

"It wasn't supposed to happen," I whisper. I drop my eyes away from Steve's and stare at the ground. I guess this is it. I have to tell him now. "I tried so very hard to be on my best behavior, because I was just starting in the NHL and I really wanted to make a good impression. But the team went out one night and we were all really drunk and..." I swallow. "AndIsortofsleptwithToddMarchant." I wait, expecting the worst. The silence stretches on and on. What is he waiting for? He's going to start yelling soon, isn't he?

"And?" he asks finally. "I have a hard time believing that the conversation you and Smith were having was just about one night with Marchant."

I blink at Steve in disbelief. That was all he was going to say? I just admitted to sleeping with a man, and all he can say is 'and'? He must be waiting for me to finish before he explodes. "That's not everything." My tongue acts before my brain tells it that I don't want to tell the rest of the story. I bite down on my lower lip. "We...we were sort of together for a bit. It wasn't really serious, but it was something." I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to find the courage inside of me to say the next part. "And then Doug Weight found out."

"What did he do?" Steve's voice is gentle again.

For a moment I just want to stop and beg him to keep talking to me with that softness in his voice, so I can remember it when the screaming starts. "He walked in on us kissing, and...he closed the door right after, but we knew he was pissed. So...what could we do? Todd was one of the assistant captains, and I was...I was barely more than a rookie. So I told him to say that I had just kissed him out of nowhere. I thought I could handle whatever Weight had to say." I start to shake again. "I was wrong."

Steve's hand rests on my shoulder, and remembering hurts so bad that I don't even bother to shy away. "It's ok," he says soothingly. "Just tell me what happened."

"The next day, he wouldn't let me into the locker room. He said he didn't want any queers in there. I had to change in the bathroom for two weeks. He let me back in, but...I was showering after one game, and I came back, and my clothes were gone, and there was a note in my locker asking me how it felt to be exposed, the way he felt having a fag around." My hands clutch together nervously in my lap. "Weight used to...he used to wait until no one else was around, and he'd tell me that all the team's problems were my fault because I had screwed up the way things were supposed to be, that I had broken a hockey law by falling in love with someone higher up than me." I laugh, bitterly, shakily. "He said that I was lucky Marchant was so nice, that if it had been him, I'd be lying in a pool of my own blood somewhere." I hear a hiss from next to me, and I know Steve must be thinking about how awful it would be to have one of the people on this team in love with him. "And then I got the concussion." I take a deep breath. I will not cry. I will not. I will be a man. "He sent me a card while I was in the hospital." It's not working. The tears are starting. "He wrote in it that he didn’t want me to come back to Edmonton." I let out a small sob. "He said he hoped my career was over so I wouldn't bring my sickness to any other team. So I wouldn't screw up any other team."

It's dead silent. Absolutely still. And then Stevie whispers "Oh God," and I come apart.

"I wouldn't do that! I swear! I wouldn't do anything wrong, I promise, please don't be mad, I swear," I choke on a sob, wiping away the tears that just keep coming. "If I could change it if I could not be this way I would, but I can't help it..."

Strong hands grasp my shoulders. "Boyd, look at me." I can't. Doesn't he understand that? I can't. Steve grabs my chin and tilts my head up so he can look at me. "Boyd, I want you to listen to me. What Weight did to you was wrong. It was disgraceful. He should be ashamed to call himself a captain. What he did was not your fault. Do you hear me?" This isn't happening. I'm dreaming. I'm talking to the poster again, I have to be. "Boyd, I'm not mad at you, ok? Calm down. It's ok." It's not. It will never be ok. Steve sits down next to me, wrapping an arm around my shoulders. "Boyd, I promise, it will never happen again. Not here. I won't let that happen to you again." I let him pull my head down to his shoulder, I let him comfort me, because this may be the last time he touches me after what I know I have to do. My sobs start to slow down, and as soon as he will let me go, I pull away from Steve, wiping my eyes. "Are you ok now?" he asks, concern evident in his voice.

I shake my head, keeping my eyes cast downward. "I have something to tell you," I whisper.

Waited far too long for something I forgot was wrong
I don't know all the answers I think that I'll find
Or have it within the time but it's all that I'll have in mind
Until I fall away
That won't keep us waiting long
Until I fall away
I don't know what to do anymore
Until I fall away
My fear pretend that I'll never be in love again
-Gin Blossoms, "Until I Fall Away"

Part 12 | Part 14