Hockey Imagines

Playoffs- Michael Latta

It was quiet, nothing but the sound of the tv. I sat in the silence as I waited for the game to come on. I was excited, this was the game that would guarantee a playoff spot for the caps. However, it was bittersweet because Michael didn't get the pleasure of playing in it.

It's been hard for us, the past 2 weeks or so since Barry began scratching him from the line up. He hasn't been himself. He's been angry and resentful, almost as if he blames me, although there is literally no reasoning behind that sort of thinking.

Nevertheless, I sat there and watched the game and waited for him to come home. Which he did, at 3 in the morning. He stumbled in, drunk off of his ass, hanging from Tom's shoulders.

"Y/N. Hi. I thought you'd be asleep by now." Tom looked at me awkwardly and then looked at my highly intoxicated boyfriend by his side. "I swear I tried to slow him down, he was just really excited about playoffs."

"It's fine." I walked to them, taking Michael from him, bracing myself as his weight almost knocked me over, his drunken state adding to the heaviness. Tom held his arms out, making sure I didn't fall. "Thanks for your help, Tom. But, I think I can take it from here." I snapped at him, a bit annoyed that he let Michael get to this state.

He looked like I just bit the head off of a small dog and I looked down at the ground, embarrassed.

"I'm sorry, I'm just really tired and didn't feel like dealing with him like this. Thanks for getting him home safely."

"No, problem. Sorry I couldn't keep him from getting like this. He was just really excited."

"Yeah, I don't think he was drinking from excitement. Uh, I'm gonna go put him to bed but I need to talk to you so do you think you could wait in the living room?"

"Yeah, of course." And he went, sitting on the couch as I made my way to our bedroom, taking much longer with his dead weight attached to my hip. I got him to lay down after he tried, many times, to protest and get up. He kept saying that he wanted to keep the party going and that all of his friends were waiting for him to make a big speech. I convinced him that he had already done that and all of his friends went home and that they all wanted him to lay down and drink some water, which I retrieved for him from the kitchen.

Once he finally laid down, I went to talk to Tom, who was still waiting but yawning uncontrollably.

"What did you mean when you said he wasn't drinking out of excitement?"

"Look, I don't know how he acts around you but him not playing has taken its toll on him. He's angry and bitter and," I paused, refraining from getting emotional."He's not the same person. I think he blames me for him being scratched."

"That sucks, but it doesn't answer my question." I looked at him, concerned that he wasn't understanding.

"He wasn't just drinking for playoffs, he was drinking away the pain. He was trying to make himself seem happy, probably so you and Andre and everyone else wouldn't know how upset not playing has made him." He nodded, to show he understood. "I'm worried about him, Tom."

"He's going to be fine, I promise. Coach will put him back in and he'll be playing in no time, okay? You're going to get him back, don't worry yourself."

"I hope you're right." We get up, walking towards the door and he hugs me goodbye. "Thanks, Tom. For everything." He rubbed my shoulder and kissed my forehead, comforting me. It was nice to have his reassurance but it still didn't feel right to have Michael the way he was, sad and bitter.

Tom and I had been friends since high school. Actually, we had been a bit more than friends. We dated for 3 years. We were Prom King and Queen senior year and we were even voted "most likely to be together forever." Which, technically, was true but not in the way it was meant. We broke up the next year. He was so busy with hockey and I was at university, so we never got to see each other. We decided to break up but somehow we managed to stay best friends. He introduced me to Michael, and we also decided that Michael didn't need to know about our previous relationship.