The District Sleeps Alone Tonight

Sidney was astonished by the lost. They had been ahead by two at the beginning of the third. The game shouldn't have gone into overtime. Washington was not a team to underestimate and they definitely proved that.

To make things worse, the Penguins were stranded in Washington for the night because the roads were to dangerous to try and take the bus back up to Pittsburgh until morning. The young captain only hoped they managed to escape the capital before the second wave of snow hit on Tuesday. Sidney did not want to be left stranded in Washington DC.

So, with nothing left to do, Sidney and some of his teammates decided to hit up the bar not far from their hotel in Chinatown. It was fairly full once you considered a lot of people were still snowed in. He was sitting at a table with his teammates, talking to Fleury, when he noticed her.

There she was, dressed in jeans and a long-sleeved shirt, talking animatedly with the bartender as she absentmindedly fingered the glass of clear liquid in front of her. His stomach dropped. So she wasn't sober anymore...

* * *

I don't know why I decided to go. It was a foolish decision. One step into the place and I could've lost all resolve, lost all the hard work I had done over the past six months, but I had nothing to do that evening. After the game ended around three, Sadie and I went out to Chop't for lunch, where she told me that she was going out to dinner with Kent since they didn't know when they'd see each other again when the second wave of the snowmageddon/snowpocalypse/snowvechkin or whatever hit. And I didn't really want to be cooped up in my house, since I knew I would be for several days to come, so I decided to go out and it was the only place I could really think of, to be honest.

"Long time, no see, Sorcha," I heard as I took a seat at the familiar bar. It was the truth, it really had been a long time, probably as long as I had been sober.

"Tell me about it, Dave," I began as I matched his smile. "So, how about you get a sober girl like me some water?"

"Still sober, then?" Dave inquired as he complied with my request.

I nodded as he set the glass in front of me, "Yes, and it's been the longest fucking six months of my life." Dave chuckled at my response.

"Well, I'm proud of you, Sorche, if that counts for anything. It takes a lot of will power to do what you're doing."

"Thanks, Davey; I'm glad someone is," I replied quietly before taking a sip of my water. The toned, caramel-skinned male shot me a curious look, but I shrugged it off, offering him a halfhearted smile as I sat down the glass.

He and I talked for a while about nothing in particular. To be honest, it was odd having a conversation with Dave while I was sober, but the good kind of odd. I'd known him for three and a half years, yet I couldn't remember having a single conversation without when I wasn't at least slightly intoxicated. And that was a shame. Dave was hilarious; one of the sweetest guys I'd ever met, and while he didn't verbally express it, the concern in his deep chocolate eyes was apparent, and welcome. It was nice to have such concern be expressed by someone who was so thoroughly involved in my old world. I barely spoke to any of the people I used to spend hours upon days upon weeks with; they wanted nothing to do with me now that I wouldn't drink with them, or get high with them, and especially sleep with them. But Dave didn't seem to care.

"So, Sorcha, what are the chances of you hitting me if I told you that the Penguins are sitting at a table in the back and Sidney Crosby had been staring at you for the past half-hour?" Dave wondered nonchalantly.

It took me a second to process the words that had pulled me from my thoughts, but when I did, my eyes went wide and I nearly fell off the stool. I had to grip the bar for support as I exclaimed in a soft whisper "What?!"

"Yeah, they came in forty-five minutes ago. I'm surprised you hadn't noticed," he answered matter-of-factly, an amused smirk on his face. I glanced over my shoulder and, sure enough, there they were. I turned back around and shot Dave an annoyed look, muttering obscenities as I became acutely aware of Sidney's hazel eyes boring in my back.

"How many times have you slept with him again?" Dave teased.

"Twice," I sneered, "And once with Malkin."

"Malkin, too?! Baby, are you trying to sleep your way through the Pittsburgh Penguins?"

"Shut up, David, that was months ago. And I was drunk. Now, can we drop the subject?" I pleaded, fingering the rim of my water glass.

"I'd love to, darling, but one of them is coming this way..." Dave trailed off. I glanced behind me and, sure enough, Jordan Staal was strolling toward the bar. I whipped back around in mortification.

Please don't recognize me, please don't recognize me.

I heard Staal order a few drinks, but I wasn't paying enough attention to hear what they were since I had focused all of my attention on staring at the filthy bar.
Dave said something to him in return, probably asking for his ID since the boy looked about twelve, and made his drinks. I thought the twenty-one-year-old was going to leave when suddenly -

"Hey, don't I know you?" he asked curiously. I glanced up hesitantly and shook my head.

"Nope."

"'Really? I swear I've seen you somewhere..." Staal began, looking at my closely. I hoped he would be too drunk to remember. Suddenly, his eyes lit up. "OH! You're the girl from the rink a few months ago! Sophia, wasn't it?"

"Sorcha," I glowered.

"Close enough," he shrugged. I heard Dave try to smother a chuckle. "You know, a pretty girl like you shouldn't be sitting here all alone. You should come join me and my friends."

Was he seriously trying to hit on me? Of course, I knew I shouldn't be surprised. I heard the things he said about me to his teammates at Kids on Ice; the boy was a terrible whisperer.

I rolled my eyes at the thought and opened my mouth to turn him down, but a deep voice cut me off, "She'd love to!"

I shot Dave the dirtiest look I could muster and before I knew it, Staal had seized my arm, pulled me off my stool, and dragged me toward his table of teammates. I tried to slip from his grip, but let's be honest, I had no chance. And as he guided me to the table, I couldn't help but lock eyes with Sidney.

* * *

Oh, God. Sidney watched in mortification as his teammate dragged her towards them. She struggled and had an annoyed look on her face, but Jordan was too strong notice and too drunk to care. Fleury shot his captain a look, but Sidney pretended not to notice. He could do this... right?

"Hey guys, look who I found!" Staal had a proud look on his face as he slurred his words. "It's Sonia from the rink a couple months ago!"

Sorcha finally managed to weasel her arm out of his grip, "It's Sorcha, actually, and I really should be going, you know with the snow and all."

"A little snow never hurt anybody," Jordan reasoned as he practically forced her into a seat. She looked absolutely abhorred.

"No, seriously, I don't want to bother you guys..."

"A pretty girl's never a bother." Jordan scooted his chair way to close to hers. His teammate's actions made him sick.

"Jordan, just leave the poor girl alone, yeah? She doesn't want to be here," Sidney stated firmly. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her shoot him an appreciative look.

"Shut up, Sidney. Just because you have a girlfriend who won't sleep with you doesn't mean the rest of us shouldn't get laid," Jordan announced unabashedly. The Nova Scotian knew his teammate's words would immediately end the forced civility Sorcha had been using for the past several minutes.

She was out of her chair in seconds, glaring down at the drunken idiot with a look of incredible anger and disgust. A wave of silenced passed over the tables that his fellow Penguins occupied as they waited for her next move. Sidney wouldn't put it past her to punch Jordan in the nose.

Instead, Sorcha yanked his chair backwards, causing Staal to drunkenly fall to the floor. He gazed up at her in a daze as she poured the contents of his recently-purchased drink on him before she spat a harsh, "fuck you" at him and stormed out of the bar.

Fleury opened his mouth to say something to his captain, but Sidney was already chasing after the retreating figure. The goalie's face lit up with a knowing smile as he watched, before he told the second youngest Staal to stop whining because he got what he deserved.

* * *

I felt rage rip through my body as I began to haul my ass down the icy sidewalk toward the metro station. My anger was blinding; I was literally shaking from it. I couldn't believe such things had been said to my face. And I couldn't believe how angry I felt because of a stupid hockey player's words. I mean, it was only Jordan Staal, his words shouldn't have bothered me. In my mind, the consensus was that the boy was a total idiot.

While I was storming down 7th Street, not paying an ounce of attention as to where I was going or what was around me, I slipped on some black ice. I expected it to happen, to be honest. I shut my eyes tightly, preparing for my head to hit the hard, concrete sidewalk, but it never happened. Instead, I heard some rather loud scrambling before I was safely cradled in a pair of strong arms. Before my eyes even fluttered open, the strong scent of cinnamon washed over me.

"Are you okay, Sorcha?" he wondered softly. His hazel eyes bore into my cocoa brown ones. For a moment, my eyes lethargically fluttered shut again. I could feel his hot breath against my numb face; I could hear his heartbeat in my ears as he kept me in his steady grip. I suddenly felt safe in his tight, warm grip. It was a feeling I had gone six months without, a feeling I had gone without since Andy...

But then I realized who held me wasn't Andy, and the sense of security was lost. I scrambled to regain my footing and jerked myself from his grip. "Don't touch me."

I saw a glimpse of perplexity as it washed over his face before I turned away to escape.

"Sorcha, I -" his voice was lost in the frigid air. I reeled back around, eyes ablaze.

"You what, Sidney, you what?!" I barked. "You're sorry?! Sorry for what Jordan said to me?! Because if you are, don't be. After all, I'm a fucking whore, right? So I should be used to it!"

"That was months ago, Sorcha, I didn't mean it..."

"Of course you meant it, Sidney, because it's fucking true. For so long, I didn't have the slightest problem with sleeping with anyone that offered. I had the most amazing boyfriend sitting at home, waiting for me, while I was out fucking half the men in the Nation's Capital! He never said a word about it either because he loved me. But now he's gone and I don't even have alcohol to help ease this giant gaping hole in my chest!"

Before I realized it, I was choking on sobs. Warm tears streamed down my face as I hyperventilated, trying to keep up my wall. But as soon as he wrapped his arms around me, pulling me close to his broad chest, all resolve was lost. I began to sob in the arms of the captain of the Pittsburgh Penguins in the middle of 7th Street in downtown Washington DC. And for the first time in seven months, if not four years, if not nine yeas, my heart didn't feel so broken.