The Crosby Life

We stayed with the Staal’s until Jordan was able to take care of himself, which was about a couple weeks later. If you ask Marc, we stayed because I’m overprotective and wanted to make sure he was being taken care of. Totally not true...
Anyways, Marc-Andre and I flew to Quebec afterwards and I stayed with his family. When we finally flew back to Pittsburgh before the camp started to get settled, I actually had trouble speaking English for the first couple days since all we spoke was French. My teammates all found it hilarious...
...And they all had heart-attacks when they saw my left hand. I guess I might have failed to mention it to them. Woops?
I quickly met with the new guys on the team, and Arron Asham, who was a Flyer last year and a Devil in the year of the accident between us, was the biggest surprise to me. He was unusually nervous around me, so after practice on the first day, I casually asked him to follow me as I grabbed a water bottle from a vending machine.
Despite him being in his early thirties, he was definitely acting strange around me. “So, want to tell me what’s going on?” I asked him, turning and opening the bottle.
He licked his lips nervously and I saw all the guys that were on the team three years ago staring at us in the corner of my eye. “What do you mean?”
I raised an eyebrow and he sighed.
“You act like you don’t hate me.”
I sighed and leaned against the wall, pushing my wet hair out of my face. “Why should I hate you? I forgave you long ago.”
Arron snorted and chuckled at the same time. “Sure hasn’t seemed like it.”
“Well you were a Flyer. I’m not allowed to seem like I like you.” I cracked a smile that he reluctantly returned. “Seriously, I don’t hate you.”
Arron sighed and looked at me. “I’m sorry, for hurting you. The guys all warned me that you walk funny from it.”
My eyes narrowed and he backed up a bit. “I walk funny?” He nodded, motioning to the group of idiots that were watching us. I raised my voice so they could hear. “Oh, I walk funny do I? Well, considering that my hip bone has a permanent gash etched into it from a skate that belong to you, I think I have a right to walk ‘funny.’”
Arron looked nervous again and I lowered my voice as my group of idiots began to chat anxiously amongst themselves. “It was an accident. I just said that to bother them.” I flashed a smile.
He chuckled. “All forgiven?”
I held out my hand, and he took it. “We’re teammates now. All has been long forgiven.” We shaked while smiling.
The accident that this all references happened three years ago in a very intense game. I had the puck and was skating around, trying to find someone who was open. I was slammed into, but able to pass the puck, and fell to the ground with two other guys tumbling down with me because there was such a huge mass of players.
Small little me was on the bottom of the pack, Brooks including who was on top of me, and when Arron got back up, one of the Penguins at the time slammed into him and he stepped back... on top of me, his skate coming down on my left hip.
Even thinking about it brings pain to my hip. The skate when straight into the bone, and I now have a deep, long scratch in the bone that will not heel. I usually don’t have problems with it, but once in a while the pain does reappear and it will swell, mainly if the bone rubs against each side of the gash. It tends to happen if I slam it wrong or get hit hard.
Which, surprise surprise, happens on our October first game.
I played a whole six shifts in the first before Kopy slams into me. I manage to stay on my feet, but then Bolland decided to pop out of no where and sandwich me into Kopy. My feet were actually off the ice for a good few seconds while being suspended in the air between their two huge bodies before I fall to the ice in a crumpled heap.
I had to be helped off the ice by both Tanger and Kopy because I couldn’t put any weight on my left leg due to my hip.
The two Blackhawks felt horrible. I receive calls or texts from them every day to make sure I’m ok. To make them feel worse, I couldn’t play in Detroit in the last pre-season game because of my hip.
For some reason, the Blackhawks are very protective. Even of me.
I can’t really talk though... my Penguins are the exact same way.
Crazy idiots.
Currently, I sat in my living room that I share with my loving and worried fiance, receiving my call of the day from Kopy.
“Tomas, I’m fine. Ok? I’m not sure how many times I have to say it before I get it through that thick Blackhawk head of yours!”
Marc-Andre chuckled as he listened to me, putting the heating pad on my hip while I tapped my fingers in frustration on the arm of the chair. I know he is worried about me, but he doesn’t bother me like this, asking if I’m ok every hour. He knows me too well to dare ask repetitively.
“I’m worried about you! I know from Nik from Ari from Letang that you still aren’t practicing.”
Yup, the first game is in two days and I still can’t walk without the pain in my hip crippling me. I am playing that first regular season game in the new arena. I don’t care if it’s only a shift or two; I will be playing.
“I’m not dying, Kopecky!” I growled at him. “I’m fine; I’ll live. I’m resting and using my crutches to get around. It’s feeling better every day. Will you stop worrying and focus on your own team! Good lord.”
He chuckled. Why the hell was he chuckling? I was being pretty damn serious. I loved the Slovakian and all, but I am about ready to pull my hair out with him. He wasn’t even the one who mainly sandwiched me!
Marc-Andre could tell that I was about ready to blow my fuse, which is really short since I haven’t been out of the house in a few days, and took my phone from me to talk to Kopy on the other line.
“Kopy? Yes, she’s fine. I promise I’m taking great care of her.” A pause. “I’m pretty sure I know how to take care of my fiance.” My lover is so much more patient than I am. Can’t you tell? “She is resting, yes. I promise I’m not letting her move.” Another pause. “Alright, tell Bolland not to call.” Short pause. “Unless you want your teammate to lose his hearing, I suggest he doesn’t call. Sierra is about ready to blow at both of you.” Marc chuckled and hung up, looking at me. “I don’t think they’ll bother you for a bit now.”
I cracked a smile, patting the couch next to me. He sat down and I rested my head on his shoulder as he wrapped his arm around me. “Thank you.”
I felt his lips on the top of my head. “Anything for you, ma amour,” he replied quietly as his fingers stroked my arm softly. “You want anything, angel?”
I shook my head as I tried to snuggle closer into him, feeling very tired. He shifted his body to make it more comfortable for me to snuggle closer to him without having to move my hop too much. “Just you.”
I felt a smile form on his lips as he kissed my temple. “I am always here for you, Sierra. I love you.”
“I love you too.”
I sighed as he turned on the TV, and at some point, I fell asleep despite the not-very-comfortable position that I had placed myself in.