I think it's safe to say that this has been one of the strangest days of my life. I had planned on coming here, watching the game from the locker room, avoiding Boyd until I had figured out what I was going to say to him. It hadn’t worked out that way. Oh sure, I watched the game, but the avoidance part went down in flames.

What was I supposed to do? Boyd was standing there, looking like a deer in headlights, and Edmonton's captain was standing there smirking, and I had to do SOMETHING...

It turns out I really didn't need to figure out what to say Boyd, he did all the talking. And God, what he said...I've heard of some pretty bad captains, but what Weight did disgusts me. His actions go against everything I believe a captain should do. He sacrificed the integrity of his team and persecuted one of his players, and that is absolutely wrong.

But all my anger can do no good now. All I can do is wrap my arm around Boyd's shaking shoulders, let him rest his head against me, hoping the comfort will do some good. I guess it does, because eventually his crying slows and he pulls away from me, wiping his eyes. "Are you ok now?" I ask.

He shakes his head. "I have something to tell you."

I know what it is, I know what he's going to say, and part of me doesn't want him to tell me. Knowing is one thing, but when he knows I know, it will be a responsibility, I will have to do something about it, and I just don't know. I don't know what to tell him, what can make this situation easiest for the both of us.

But there is no magic answer. There never is. I just need to deal with this like a rational adult. "What is it?"

Boyd stares down at his hands. "I'm sorry."

I raise my eyebrows. "I wasn't aware you'd done anything that you need to apologize for."

He just nods. "I did. It...it's bad."

He's acting like he killed someone or did something similarly horrible. This is slightly hurting my self esteem. Am I that awful, that fear-inspiring, that he thinks it would be that bad of a crime to love me? Then I remember what Weight said to him, and I understand. He really does think this is the worst thing he could ever do. "Just tell me, Boyd."

"I thought I could control it, I really did." He sighs. "I...I thought it would go away, but it didn't, it just got worse and now everything is wrong." He wipes his eyes roughly and I consider stopping him then and there, but I know he needs to get this out. "I never wanted it to get this far, I mean, it was so simple back then, so normal, and now..." He pauses. He's rambling, like he's still trying to figure out how to tell me. It's painful to watch. "I can't concentrate anymore, it's the only thing I can think about, and I know that it's wrong and I should stop, but I can't." He twists his hands in his lap. "I can't make it stop, I can't make it go away, and I'm scared...I'm scared it won't ever go away."

There are tears running down Boyd's face, and I want to wipe them away, I want to tell him that everything will be ok, but I can't. Because I'm the one causing this pain. The worst part is having to treat this like any other problem, having to use my stock of good captain answers, "Boyd, whatever it is, you aren't alone. If you tell me, maybe I can help..."

He shakes his head violently. "No. Not after what I have to tell you. You...you won't want to help me."

It's official. I don't know what to do. I don't know what to tell him, what can possibly convince him that I'm not going to storm out of here in disgust. "I promise you, I will stand by you no matter what. Ok? I promise."

He avoids looking at me. "No you won’t. And I don't blame you."

I fight down the urge to shake Boyd, to tell him that so many people have done so much worse and that there is no reason for him to feel this guilty. "Your faith in me is quite uninspiring."

His head snaps up and he stares at me. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that..."

I smile at him. "It was a joke. Now come on. Tell me."

Boyd looks down again. "I can't..."

"Yes you can." I move closer to him. "The only thing that's stopping you is yourself. Just let it go."

He stares at the ground. "I..." He draws a hitching breath. "I..." He buries his face in his hands. "I'm...I'm in love." He starts to sob. "I'm in love with you."

Well, he said it. The world didn't end. However, I still don't have any idea what to do. I put my hand on his back and start rubbing slow circles. "It's ok. I'm not mad. I'm not going anywhere."

I don't think he hears me. Now that he's starting, I don't think he can stop. He's crying so hard I'm almost afraid he'll stop breathing. "I can barely even remember a time when I wasn't in love with you. I...it started just like a simple crush, because I used to watch you play, and you were so good and then I got a poster of you, and....and... and I told the poster I was gay and it didn't go anywhere, and then I got to Edmonton and it was so bad, and I used to dream that there would be someone like you to protect me, and I came here and I was so scared because I thought Weight would tell everyone in the whole league about me..." he takes a deep, gasping breath, "but you were so nice to me, and I thought I could just keep it to myself, but I couldn’t, and I'm so very very very sorry, because I don't want you to hate me..."

This is worse than I thought. Much worse. Boyd is crumbling right here in front of me and I'm powerless to stop it. "Boyd, I want you to listen to me."

He shudders. "I'm so sorry."

"I don't hate you. Do you hear me?" I take his hands in my own and pull them away from his face. He looks up at me, his face red and blotchy, his hair wet from showering and from nervous sweat, and I am struck by how young and vulnerable he looks. "I don't hate you. It's not your fault." I let go of his hands and pull him into my arms, surprised that he goes willingly. "I'm not mad at you," I whisper into his hair. "It's going to be ok."

His whole body shakes with the force of his sobs. "You didn't go away. Just like the poster."

My arms tighten aground him. "I told you I wouldn't."

Eventually, he starts breathing normally again and his tears slow down. "What are you gonna do about this?" he asks quietly.

I rub his back gently. "What do you want me to do?"

He sniffles. "Just forget I said anything."

I find myself smiling, because I know it's not that easy. "I don't think that would do either of us much good." I sigh. "Boyd, what happened to you in Edmonton was terrible. I don't blame you for carrying around a lot of scars from that."

"This is the part where you tell me that it's really too bad what happened, but I just weird you out too much, isn’t it?" Boyd murmurs.

"No, this is the part where I tell you that I want to be your friend. I want to help you deal with this."

He pulls away and looks at me wide-eyed. "Even though..."

I nod. "Even though."

He blinks, then glances downward. "If this is going to turn into a way to get me off the team, then just tell me now and I'll leave voluntarily."

"I wouldn't do that." I hate that he would even think that of me. "I swear to you, that won’t happen here. Not while I'm captain. Not while anyone I know is captain. Ok?"

He stares at me for a moment, and I can see the battle behind his eyes. Finally, he smiles. It's a small smile, but it's there. "Ok."

Maybe you should sleep
And maybe you just need a friend
As clumsy as you've been, there's no one laughing
You will be safe in here
- Our Lady Peace, "Clumsy"

Part 13 | Part 15