NHL Imagines

Tyson Barrie - Sounds Like a Plan

Warnings: Swearing/language, angst

You were sitting on the couch, leaning your head on Tyson's shoulder while the two of you watched Friends, when his phone rang.

Your heart dropped immediately.

"I'll be right back, babe," Tyson said, kissing you on the top of the head before grabbing his phone.

"Hello?" he said into the phone as he walked into the other room.

You reached for the remote, paused the episode, and strained to hear the conversation occurring in the other room, but you were out of earshot. That didn't stop you from trying, though, and hoping against hope that it wasn't what you thought was going on.

When Tyson came out of the bedroom, though, you knew it was everything you feared.

"Babe..." Tyson said, his eyes red.

You vaulted off the couch and into his arms.

"I...I got traded. To Toronto," he said as he sobbed into your neck.

You didn't think it was possible, but your heart broke even further. Toronto? That was not only in the Eastern Conference, but also in another country.

"I'm so sorry, baby," was all you said. You didn't need to make him even more upset by voicing your displeasure about the trade.

"I just...I don't understand. Why would they trade me?" he asked, holding you like he was floating in the Pacific Ocean and you were a life preserver.

You thought about it for a moment before answering. "Ty, look at me."

He pulled away from you and wiped his face on the sleeve of his sweatshirt.

"They're idiots for trading you. You're one of the Avs' best players, and if they don't see the value in that, then good riddance."

"You really feel that way?" Tyson looked surprised.

"I don't know how else to look at it," you admitted. "You have one more year left on your contract, and they knew you wanted to stay, but they traded you anyway. I want to rip Sakic apart, limb from limb."

The last thing you were expecting was for Tyson to laugh.

"What's so funny?" you asked him.

"Your face," he replied, still laughing. "You look like you could actually keep your promise about Sakic."

"The only thing preventing me from doing so is the jail time. He isn't worth it," you said.

"Definitely not," Tyson agreed, "You have important things to do with your life."

Shit. He was giving you the look. You knew you couldn't avoid this conversation forever, but you wanted to.

"You have to stay in Denver, (Y/N)," Tyson said.

"No, I don't," you protested, "I can take a year off until you get to free agency, and then I can transfer to the law school closest to your new team."

"(Y/N)," Tyson groaned, "Your parents will kill me if you don't finish law school this year."

"But what are we going to do?"

"It's not ideal, but we'll have to be long distance for a year."

"Ugh!" You couldn't help it; you had to let out your frustration. You stomped over to the couch and slumped down on it.

As soon as you sat down, Tyson joined you on the couch.

"Can I hold your hand?"

You looked at him like he was crazy. "Of course you can. Why would you even ask such a silly question?"

"Well, you look really frustrated, and I didn't want to do anything that would make you feel worse," he said as he laced your fingers together.

"You're the best, Ty," you said, tightening your grip on his hand.

"Right back at you," he responded while mimicking your action. "Listen, I know it's going to be really hard, but we've been through a lot together. I think we can handle a year of long-distance."

You made a face. "I know. It's just going to suck."

"I'm not denying that. But we have the rest of the summer together, and I'll do everything I can to make sure we see each other more than once a month during the season. And then, once the season is over and you graduate from law school, we'll choose our home. Does that sound like a plan?"

Tyson sounded so rational, and he had given you every reason to trust him. The next year was going to be awful, but you knew you'd make it through. "Yeah, it sounds like a plan."