Your Eyes Tell Me What I Need to Know

Henrik Lunquvist wandered the halls of Mellon Arena. It was opening day of the 2009-2010 season. The guys in the locker room were all wondering if this was their year. They had a new coach, they made a great run at the end of last season, it's what every New York Ranger should be thinking, but not Hank. Hank was busy with other thoughts.

He didn't think the others would bother him or ask why he was wandering the halls of Pittsburgh's arena. He is a goalie after all and many of the guys were scared to death to even speak to him before a game, especially one as important as opening day against the reigning Stanley Cup Champions. No one wanted to be responsible for jinxing the goalie. No, none of the guys would ask, except maybe one, Marc Staal. Marc might ask, or he might not because he'd already know. Marc would understand Hank’s need to see her, his desire to just run into her by accident here in Mellon Arena, in Pittsburgh, where she lived. At least he thought she still lived here. One could never tell with her.

The her he wanted desperately to run into was Caitlin James. Caitlin was the woman that kept Hank from giving himself to any other woman, even Katrina who was, in the real world, everything that he had ever wanted in a woman. Hank was not living in the real world though. He was living in a world that still held hope that Caitlin had even a speck of interest in him.

He'd always watched Caitlin from a far as she hung out with her best friend Marc Staal. Hank would go so far as to say that he and Caitlin were friends, but his interest in her always ran deeper than friendship and far deeper than a potential mind blowing one night stand. He’d watch from the sidelines completely overwhelmed with envy as she’d go home with other guys from the team. He even found himself jealous of Brandon Dubinsky, a kid by all accounts, but one lucky enough to share a night with Caitlin.

Then things changed. One night during playoffs Henrik Linquvist seemed to be the object of Caitlin's affections. Affections that were more than the typical friendship they’d always shared. He danced with her and held her in his arms, and she showed no signs of wanting to move on to be with someone else. Hank was sure that was going to be his night with Caitlin, and if he had his way, not the only night. He wanted to show her that there was more to life than casual sex, that being with one man could be better than spreading the love around.

Caitlin was a slut, at least that's what the girlfriends and wives called her. The puck bunnies called her that too. She did love sex, there was no question, but she wasn't a slut in the eyes of most of the men in the locker room, despite the fact that more than one had had the privilege, and it was a privilege. She was a free spirit; she was one of the guys really. She'd grown up with the Staal boys, which explains most of what you need to know. She looked at men the way most hockey players looked at women, and they respected her despite her wild sexual exploits. Her needs seemed primal, her goal to satisfy that need, and she often used her friends to do it. They were really her friends no matter what other women in the world thought.

That night, the one Hank thought would be his with Caitlin. Sean Avery stepped in ruining all Hank's plans. The one speck of relief was that he knew Caitlin would not sleep with Sean Avery, despite Sean's incessant efforts. Hank figured her reasoning was that Sean wanted it too badly. He'd wanted to kill Avery that night but instead he walked away letting her slip out of his grasp. That was until a few days later when Caitlin called him out of the blue and asked him to join her in Costa Rica. The Rangers had just suffered an excruciating loss to the Caps in round one of the playoffs. Hank dropped everything, his plans to pack for home, his farewell meeting with the team, everything, just to be with Caitlin. It was an invitation that he couldn't refuse and one he was sure she wouldn't give lightly or to many men.

One night, or rather early morning after making love to her over and over again, she confessed that he was only the second man she'd actually slept with after having sex. He understood that he was getting his shot, his chance to really be with her. He could feel her trying to give herself to him that weekend, trying to break down whatever it was that kept her from having emotional ties to men, whatever it was that kept her from falling in love.

Their last morning together in Costa Rica, Caitlin was in the shower when her phone vibrated. Hank picked it up innocently to see if it was important, maybe he should interrupt her shower, something he wanted to do anyway. He read the text and dropped the phone on the bed. His suspicions were confirmed, her barrier, the thing that kept her emotionally distant from men was clear. Caitlin was having an affair with one of the Staal boys, the married one, Eric Staal. Hank placed the phone back on the nightstand defeated. The Staal boys were Catilin's life. She would do anything for them, anything, and she'd never let a man come between her and one of them, so what was he to do? He left to go back to New York later that morning.

She didn't want him to go, even begged him to stay. In hind sight things might be different now, he might not be wandering Mellon Arena looking for her, if he had just stayed. He asked her to come to Sweden with him, but she refused systematically, saying she wasn't the type of girl you take home to your mother. He sat on the plane that afternoon alone trying to figure out why he left. He could hear the words of his mother from growing up, "If you love something set it free, if it comes back to you, it is yours." At least that's the way he remembered it. Caitlin didn't come back to him. He had opportunities to be with her afterward, but it wasn't the same. She wasn't trying to give herself to him anymore; it was just sex, and it broke Hank's heart. He even pretended not to notice when she slipped out of the room one night to go to Eric. He still believed he could show her that she deserved better than that.

Hank was relieved that no one knew how deep his feelings for Caitlin ran. Well, no one but possibly Marc Staal who he'd bothered all summer long for updates on Caitlin, but never got them. Apparently Marc had his own Caitlin issues to work out over the summer, which he seemed to have done nicely as evidenced by the little brunette he had been seen around with. No, other than Marc no one knew about his feelings for Caitlin. He could imagine the ridicule, if not to his face behind his back. "How stupid it was to fall for Caitlin," or "What was he thinking, doesn't he know how she is?" He was relieved to avoid these conversations, but not having to hear them didn't' make them any less true. And even though he knew it was stupid, he walked in hopes of bumping into her. He wasn't sure what he'd say, but he had to see her.

Just when Hank was about to give up hope and was headed back to the locker room, the door opened and out walked Marc Staal already suited up for the game. He was followed by Caitlin. Hank instantly felt ridiculous, after all that roaming, he should have just waited; if she was here she would have come to see Marc. He watched on as Marc kissed her on the forehead and started walking the other direction. Caitlin froze in her tracks when she saw him stopped in the middle of the hallway staring at her.

"Hank," she said almost too softly for him to hear. She quickly made her way to him and wrapped her arms around his middle in a hug. She was caught off guard seeing him, though it's not like she didn't know he'd be there. She hadn't seen him since everything happened this summer and so much had happened.

"I've missed you," he said looking down into her eyes, but Caitlin wiggled away obviously uncomfortable with the statement. Her eyes were sad, and he cringed knowing he wasn’t going to like what she was about to say.

"Hasn't anyone told you?" She asked.

"Told me what?" he replied.

She reached out and grabbed his hand sensing that he might need to be comforted. "Eric and I are together now. Really together."

Hank softly removed his hand from hers and ran it through his hair. "He's not right for you Caitlin. He's married." He believed his words with everything in his being. He could give Caitlin so much more than Eric Staal.

"A lot has happened Hank, more than I can even tell you, but he loves me. He’s divorcing Tanya." A Pft passed his throat. "I should have told you sooner. I should have, and I'm sorry. I was just…"

"Wrapped up in Eric," Hank spat out. Hank had never been gruff with Caitlin. He always gave her the space she needed assuming she'd figure this out on her own, but now he couldn't hold in the hurt and anger he felt.

"Yes actually," she confessed. "He's my whole world. I am so in love with him Hank. He's the one. He's always been the one. I’m sorry." Caitlin didn’t want to be that blunt, but she needed Hank to understand.

He surprised them both when he reached out and pulled her into him, holding her tightly. He didn't say anything just held her there, and she didn't resist. She had always known how Hank felt about her. She could read his emotions very clearly. She understood what he wanted from her, but she was never able to do it. Somewhere deep down they both knew that Caitlin wasn't meant to be with Hank, that she could never love anyone like she loved the Staal boys, and now that she had fallen in love with one of them, no man alive was going to break what they had going, no man alive but Eric himself.

Hank was sure Eric would fuck up, that he'd hurt her, and he wanted desperately to warn her, but he didn't. He loosened his grip on her and held her at arm’s length. His face was pained and the hurt was evident making Caitlin cringe. She didn't mean to do this to him. She never meant to hurt anyone least of all Hank. "I will always be here for you if you need me." Caitlin's eyes closed as she took in what he’d just said. There were no other words exchanged. Hank turned and walked into the locker room. Caitlin took a deep breath and walked down the hallway.

Hank was late getting on the ice for pre-game warm up, but not even Tortorella said a word about it. No one questions the goalie before a big game. Wouldn’t they all just shit if they knew he dressed without tradition and threw on his pads in whatever order he picked them up. Wouldn’t they all flip if they knew he didn’t do his little payer ritual before he walked out of the locker room.

Hank planned to throw everything he had into this game; he would play with everything he had in him, go for saves that would make him have to soak his aching muscles. He would give it everything he had, but he knew he couldn’t win this game. That’s why the rituals didn’t matter. This wouldn’t be his night it was already obvious.

Final score of the game Penguins 3, Rangers 2.