The Crosby Life

December twenty-third, us against the Washington Capitals for a preview of the Classic only two weeks away, more or less.
The game started off bloody, with Alex stupid Ovechkin slamming into Geno. He claims he was hit in his shoulder, but every replay that was looked at looked like a head shot to me. Or maybe I am just biased, which I know I am.
I skated in a circle, keeping my legs fresh, as I waited to take the face-off to start the third period. We are up, and I was determined to hang onto that.
Marc was beyond brilliant tonight, and Emelie wasn’t trying to kill anyone. I considered tonight a success so far. I was hoping to keep it that way.
The refs blew the whistle and I took up my spot. Geno was winging me and Cookie were winging me, because Coach wanted the big guns protecting me and Emelie, and then the brutes protecting the superstars that consist of my brother and Geno-bear.
He hates that nickname I gave him, just saying.
I won the face-off back to Tanger and we set off down to the Capitals end. Ovechkin was with us, and I was being very aware of him. I dodged every check that was coming at me, and went to play the puck along the boards.
I was tangled up with a Capital, although I don’t remember who it was. Greene maybe, I’m not entirely sure.
I won the puck and gave it to Geno, focusing on that black piece of rubber as it rang off the pipe and to Cookie’s stick.
But, I was too focused on the puck.
I was so focused that I lost track of Ovechkin, until Pauly (Yes, I do call Martin that) yelled my name.
I looked over at Paul just as two hundred and thirty three pounds of six foot two Russian slammed into me from behind.
With a loud gasp, I tried to grab onto the boards. But the hit was too fast and too unexpected.
I felt my head slam into the boards and heard a painful crunch.
Just as everything went black.

Commentators:
“Look at that hit on Sierra, Bob, by Ovechkin. She’s going to feel that one tomorrow.”
“You’re right, Steigey. And now the puck is down in Pittsburgh’s zone... wait, Sierra isn’t getting up. And the Capital’s young goaltender is trying to get a refs attention.”
“Getting out of his net is one way to do it.”
“This brings back some painful memories, doesn’t it, Steigey?”
“Sure does, Bob. The poor girl got hurt to much last year. And she’s completely unconscious now as the two teams go at it. The Penguins are very protective of their teammates. Probably the most protective of all thirty teams.”
“The team doctor is out there now, and Cookie is mixing it up with Ovechkin at the other end.”
“Uhh, Bob, Emelie just through herself in there, going furiously at the Russian. And Cooke is letting her do it.”
“Probably because he knows he’ll get punch if he tries to stop her.”
“Fleury is making his way down the ice to see to his fiance.”
“She still isn’t awake, even now as her equipment is being carefully pealed off of her and being placed on a stretcher.”
“What’s it like down there, Dan?”
“Bob, Steigey, we have some furious Penguins down here. Flower’s joining the time out as Sierra is being taken off ice. Bylsma is telling them that she will be ok, and to use this as an excuse to kick their asses to the land of the losers.”
“Well, it looks like both Varron get majors, and Ovechkin is ejected from the game, but not without some cuts and bruises from a girl half his weight.”
“She’s furious, Bob.”
“This is just crazy. The Penguins have a new fire in them now. A fire to make the Capitals’ pay for hurting their Sierra. And the Capital’s will pay by losing. Or at least that’s what they’re goal is.”
“Word is that Sierra is on her way to the local hospital now, and she still hasn’t awaken.”
“Ovechkin will receive a suspension for this. That was a head shot and if she still isn’t awake, that is not a good sign.”
“Flower is furious behind that mask, Bob. He’s ready to make the saves, that’s for sure.”
“The last period of this game is going to be interesting. For all of those watches, I’d send the young children out of the room. It’s about to get bloody.”

Marc-Andre’s PoV:
The game’s over. We won in a shootout.
And I needed to get to my girl as soon as possible.
Emelie was nearby me as I ripped off my gear, nursing some bruised and bloody knuckles. “She’ll be ok, Flower,” she said softly to me.
I glanced at her for a moment, but didn’t say anything back.
She hadn’t woken up yet. Dan said that as I walked into the locker room. Sierra needed me, right now, and I was worried sick. So worried, I thought I might just throw up.
I didn’t even bother to shower as I threw on some clothes. Sidney nodded to me as I met his gaze, and I rushed out of the locker room. The captain would take care of my stuff. He knew I needed to get to his sister as soon as possible.
I got a taxi just outside the Capitals rink, and my sister called on the ride there. She made me promise to tell her when Sierra wakes up. Marylene and Sierra have become close through the years.
I got to the hospital and rushed in, almost forgetting to pay the driver. I was directed to Sierra’s room, and when I got there, I froze at the door at the sight of my girl.
She was just lying there, almost lifeless, with IVs in her arm and the oxygen tubes in her nose. She was so pale, and a terrible gash stretches along her hairline... in the exact same place as the gash she received from her car accident last year.
My baby...
I walked over to her like a zombie and took a seat in a chair next to her. I took her small hand in mine, and squeezed it tightly. “Erra, baby, I’m here,” I said softly to her, bringing her delicate hand to my lips.
She didn’t stir, and I felt tears swell up in my eyes.
I’m not sure how long I stayed like that, gripping her hand in mine, but eventually a knock on the door woke me up from my daze.
“Marc-Andre.”
I turned around and looked at Sidney and Emelie. The two of them stood there, both had their eyes locked onto my unconscious fiance. “No luck?” Em asked.
I shook my head and turned to face Sierra again. Her chest rose and fell with every slight breath.
Sidney walked up to me and clutched my shoulder. “She’s a tough cookie. She’ll be ok.”
I nodded and blinked away the tears in my eyes.
“The flight?” I asked, my voice hoarse.
“Dan rescheduled it for tomorrow morning. He knew we wanted to be here,” Emelie said.
I nodded against and brought Sierra’s hand to my lips once again. “She won’t wake up... why won’t she wake up?” I asked as my voice wavered.
Sidney squeezed my shoulder. “She will. Her body shut itself down. She’ll wake up soon. She knows your here. Once her brain registers that she’s safe, she’ll wake up.”
“Yeah, Flower,” Emelie said, giving me a slight smile. “She’s Sierra. Nothing keeps her down for long.”
I nodded and closed my eyes, holding her hand tightly. “I love you, Sierra,” I said in French to her. I opened my eyes and brushed some of her chocolate hair out of her face. “I’m here, baby. I’m not leaving you. You’re safe now. You’re ok.”
Sidney and Emelie stayed for another hour, until a nurse came in and said only one of us can stay. Sidney wanted me to stay with her, and I was so thankful for that.
I didn’t leave Sierra’s side at all, even when I began to grow tired. I rested my head on her belly, my face still facing her. Tears fell from my eyes, and onto my love.
I think I fell asleep like that, but a gentle caress on my hair woke me up slowly.
My eyes slowly opened, and I lifted my head and stared straight into Sierra’s beautiful hazel eyes.
I gaped at her for a long moment as she continued to stroke my hair with her soft, small hand. “I heard you,” she croaked out.
I grabbed her hand from my hand and held it between both of my own, kissing it over and over again as tears fell from my eyes again. “Sierra...”
She smiled weakly and squeezed my hand. “I had a bad dream. Ovechkin hit me.”
“It wasn’t a dream, my love. That’s why you’re in the hospital.”
Sierra nodded a bit, and winced. “My head hurts.”
“You’re head was slammed into the boards. You have a concussion.”
“Bad?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know, baby. You’ve been unconscious for hours. It’s early morning now.”
Sierra sighed and wrinkled her nose. “Are the tubes really necessary?”
I chuckled and kissed her forehead. “I don’t know, baby. I’ll get the doctor, ok? We need to see how bad your concussion is and decide on how we’re getting home.”
Sierra nodded and I let go of her hand, but not before kissing it. I found the doctor and he made an evaluation of her. It wasn’t a terribly severe concussion, but severe enough that she won’t be able to fly back to Pittsburgh. She’s not allowed to fly for at least a week. The doctors in Pittsburgh will have to judge all that.
The oxygen tubes were removed from her nose and she relaxed almost immediately. Her eyes drooped as she became tired, and I took her hand in mine again.
The four stitched in her head won’t be in for long either, but it was the concussion that will have her out of the lineup.
“I’m going to hurt something if I miss the Classic,” she murmured sleepily.
I chuckled and kissed her hair softly before stroking the soft curls. “You and Jordan can hang together if that happens.”
She snorted. “He’s almost better.”
“You never know, baby,” I said softly. “Now go to sleep. You’re exhausted. I’ll wake you up in an hour.”
She sighed. “I hate concussions.”
“I know, Er-bear, I know. Just sleep while you can.”
Sierra nodded and rolled onto her side, curling up. “I love you, Marc-Andre.”
“I love you too, Sierra.”
I kissed her cheek before laying with her, my arm wrapping around her protectively. We fell asleep together, even if we would have to wake up in an hour.