As the final buzzer goes off, I realize we have won the Cup again. For the third time in six seasons, we became Stanley Cup champions again. My eyes wander from the rest of the team to the stands, scanning and carefully observing every row, every seat, just to see her. Her, who was always on Hawks' games, no matter where were home or away games, she was always there in my jersey, her eyes glowing proudly whenever our eyes met. But all I see is a crowd, rooting for us, celebrating, chatting merrily and chanting our surnames. However, she is nowhere to be seen.
"Kaner!" I hear someone call me and I turn my focus back to my team, to my second family. Only few of them know, or at least try to understand, what's going through my head right now. Knowing it's our time to celebrate and it's not the right time to grieve, I put on my significant grin and skate back to the rest of the boys. Y/N would want me that, I know she would.
"Are you alright, man?" smiles Jonathan Toews lightly and hugs me warmly.
"I still think Y/N is on the stands, Jonny. I wish like hell she was."
"I know. But she wanted you to be happy when you win the Cup, remember?" our captain tries to comfort me, but I see his eyes water a bit. Jonny and Y/N have a history together; actually it was Jon the one who introduced me to his best friend.
"Yeah, I remember," I return him a weak smile and scan the stands once again, more out of habit than anything else. With a corner of my eye, I catch a glimpse of something that seems like her figure, dressed in my jersey, but it can't be her. It was six months ago when I last saw her beautiful [H/C] hair and glimmers in her eyes. No words were needed to make me know how proud she was to see her boyfriend play and how much her proudness rose whenever I scored.
"Kane! Come on!"
I swallow the tears and join the rest of the team.
Tonight our world will probably fall apart, collide under the pressure of bad news. Ever since I got home, I haven't moved from the kitchen, where I am staring at the documents doctor gave me. And I still don't know how to tell Pat I may not live long enough to see him win Stanley Cup, that cancer I have cannot be cured, at least not anymore.
"Babe, I am home," yells my beloved boyfriend as soon as he enters our apartment. I hear him drop his bag on his way and he calls me again: "Y/N, baby, where are you?!"
"Kitchen!" I reply quietly, feeling my eyes water. In a matter of seconds, he is with me, worried expression plastered on his face: "Babe, what's wrong? Are you alright? How did your appointment with doctor go?"
"Pat, I want to talk about it with you. Promise me, you won't leave me. Please."
His warm hands cup my face and he leans his forehead on mine: "I won't. What does it make you think I'd leave you. I love you, Y/N."
"I love you more than I ever imagined I'd love anyone," I whisper and hug him. As soon as my skin touches fabric of his shirt, sadness overtakes everything and I start crying in his shirt.
"Y/N, you are scaring me. Please, baby, what's wrong?"
"I-I... there's a possibility I won't see you win the Cup, Pat."
I feel his heart skip a beat when he pulls me away from him, holding me on his arm-length: "What do you mean?"
He sounds worried and surprised. Also scared. Unable to talk, I nod my head in the direction of the papers and he lets me go, taking documents in his hands. Few intense moments pass before he turns to me, his eyes a bit reddish: "Please tell me, I didn't read that. Please."
His voice is breaking and so does my heart when I nod.
"My God," he shrieks and puts his hands on a counter, his figure shaking in waves of quiet sobbing. His sensitivity which I loved now bothers me. It's so hard to see him breaking, breaking under the weight of my news.
"Pat... I... am so sorry. But a part of me somehow expected that..."
"You can't leave me, Y/N. You can't!"
With an excuse I am tired, I avoid celebration and head back home. After quiet drive home, I enter in our apartment, wrapped into a heavy darkness and silence, which is suffocating me. I remember how it used to be lighted up, music coming from the speakers and usually a cheesy television show playing on our TV. Whenever I got home, Y/N was waiting for me, curved into a ball, on our couch, usually with a bottle of wine already waiting for me. I head to the kitchen and even now, after four months, I remember vividly what happened in there. I remember the night my world collided. And from then on, it only went downhill. A month later her beautiful hair was gone and it was obvious she didn't have much time left. Last time I was allowed to visit her was two months ago and she looked nothing like a girl I fell in love with. Her curves were reduced to a bony structure, her skin pale and her eyes with no glow. But her smile remained the same.
From the kitchen, I head into our living room, bathing in darkness and utter silence. I turn on the lights and look at the only photo on a coffee table I have. It was taken five months ago when I took Y/N out of town for one weekend and went to Disneyland in Florida. My fingers slowly slip across the glass as I whisper quietly, fighting back the tears: "We won, Y/N. We won. I wish you were here with me to celebrate. I'd do anything, anything in the world to have you beside me."
In a distance I hear phone ringing and it takes few moments for me to realize it's my phone that's ringing. With heavy legs I go back to the hallway, where I left my phone.
"Yes?"
"Pat? Are you okay?"
"You know I am not, Jon. What do you need?"
"Get ready, we have a surprise for you."
"I am not in the mood..."
"Shut up and get dressed. Ten minutes."
Before I can object, he cuts the call, leaving me no other choice but to get dressed and wait for him to show up. In five minutes, not in ten, as he said, he shows up: "Are you ready?"
"No."
"Come on. It's not good for you to be in here all alone."
With a deep sigh, I let him drag me out and in his car.
Surprisingly, he pulls over in front of Y/N's old apartment.
"What is going on? Are you trying to kill me or what? This is Y/N's apartment and has been empty since she moved in with me."
"It's not empty, but it will be soon," quiet whisper, barely louder of breeze, says from the darkness.
"Hi, Pat," her lips curve into a small smile, which obviously demands much strength from her.
"Y/N... I thought you were..."
"They let me go back to my apartment... just until I..."
"You won't, baby. You will get healed."
"I won't. And you know that. But I saw your last game, Pat. I saw you win the Cup once again."
"But how?"
"Sharpie and Jon arranged it. I was there, watching you. Like so many times before."
"But... what about your illness?"
"It's only the matter of minutes, maybe hours. Even days, but I want this to end."
I look in her eyes, looking for a spark, but her eyes are lifeless. Maybe there, somewhere deep beneath, there's her significant spark.
"Pat, please, don't bother too much. Don't cry for me," she says and blinks twice, trying to hide tears.
"Y/N..."
"I love you, Pat, don't forget that, but I want you to get married and have kids."
"I will never..."
"You must. Life goes on. Just don't forget me."
"How could I forget you? Years with you were the best years in my life," I answer, lump in my throat growing each second and tears threatening to spill on my cheeks.
"And, Jonny," she quietly calls her best friend, who was standing few feet away, giving us some time. As he approaches, she continues, every word making her struggle: "Thank you for being such an amazing friend all those years. Please, don't let Pat do anything stupid."
"I won't, Y/N," our captain solemnly promises, his voice shaky. Then she nods her head, signaling two nurses, who I didn't notice, our little goodbyes are over. But just before door close, she turns around and smiles sadly. I lift my hand, waving goodbye to the love of my life.
For Yendysnook , hope you like it eve though it's sad:)
