Drunken Minds Speak Sober Hearts

Orange. That's what Jonathan saw as he looked around the arena. It isn't exactly a comforting color, especially when there's 15,000+ fans all decked out in it. Although there were a good amount of Hawks fans present, they were easily outnumbered.

Jon figures that it won't be hard to spot her, his bright red jersey hanging off of her shoulders. He wants to find her, he needs to. Just so he can feel some sort of peace, as weird as that sounds. But the fact that she is in this building, watching his every move, also puts him on edge. He doesn't want to screw up and look like a fool. She wouldn't care, though. She knows that nobody can be perfect and that everyone makes mistakes.

His eyes scan the crowd rather than analyzing the play before him. He knows he should be engrossed in the game and not her, but he isn't. How could he be?

Near the end of the first period, he lands his eyes on her. He smiles, hoping that it goes unnoticed by his teammates. It does, and he thanks his lucky stars.

But just as soon as his lips curve upward, they curve back down. Lorraine isn't alone. She's with someone else, a guy. Jonathan becomes angry, but he really has no right to be. She's not his to claim.

Before Jon can get a good look at the guy and maybe figure out who he is, he's being tapped on his back.

"Jon, go," his coach tells him.

The captain stands up then swings a leg over the board, followed by the other. He doesn't stray far from the bench, waiting for the puck to reach his stick before taking off. He's confronted by a Flyer just as he crosses the blue line and eventually looses the puck somewhere near the corner. When he turns around to the rest of the ice, the play has already moved to the neutral zone. Jonathan puts his head down and digs into the cold surface with his skates. The Flyers are cycling the puck well in front of Niemi. Jon chases them around in his own zone for nearly 30 seconds before he pokes it free and drags his body to the bench.

He squirts water into his mouth then looks back to Lorraine and whoever it is she's with. He squints to get a better look and then realizes he knows the man.

Ben, Ben Peterson.

Jonathan knows that he's a good guy, that's what concerns him the most. Knowing that Ben was the perfect match for her, able to make her happy. He knows this because when he and Lorraine used to hang out she would sometimes invite this Ben, a friend of hers, to hang out with them.

As he openly stares at Lorraine he sees that smile, the same smile that danced on her lips the day he first met her.

~!@#$%^&*()_+

Jonathan was sitting at this little, outside cafe that overlooked the water. Nobody ever came here. He couldn't quite understand why, though. It was beautiful. Yet he was thankful that this place was so low key; there was less of a chance that he would be recognized and swarmed.

Out of the corner of his eye he sees a girl sit down at the next table. He shifts his head a little to the left to get a better look. He notices that she doesn't bother with her sandwich, just sits there in awe at the view before her.

Finally somebody that feels the same way, he thinks.

A moment later, after she's taken everything in, her face lights up and a smile finds its way to her face. This girl, this stranger, she's the most beautiful thing Jon has ever seen.

It isn't in his nature to engage in conversation, especially with people he doesn't know. But for whatever reason, he decided to venture out of his comfort zone. He was glad he did it, though. Very glad.

He learns that her name is Lorraine Myers and that she has lived in Winnipeg all her life. She once had a pet duck named Tucker, but he ran away. She is an only child and has a thing for photography and old movies. She knew who he was, but didn't make it into some big deal. She treated him like a normal person, not like the superstar that he was. And for that, Jonathan was grateful.

They spent the entire summer together, literally every waking moment. But when the time came for Jon to head back to Chicago for the upcoming season he couldn't take her with him, no matter how much he wanted to. He didn't even have a good reason, either. That was the saddest part.

~!@#$%^&*()_+

"Jonathan Toews, come hoist the Stanley Cup!"

He hears those words spoken by Gary Bettman and takes off. He's on top of the world right now, as he should be. It has sunken in yet, the fact that the Chicago Blackhawks are the new Stanley Cup Champions. It's too much to grasp right now. It may take until tomorrow, maybe the next day, or maybe even a week before Jon can fully realize this great accomplishment. But he's not complaining.

The silver chalice is sitting right before him in all it's glory. He grabs it with both hands, posing for a quick picture, then swings the trophy, his childhood dream, high above his head. A shout erupts from within him and fills the arena. It feels so good, so goddamn good. He takes his turn skating around with it before heading back to his teammates. He singles out Marian Hossa and hands him the cup with a big grin.

They all take turns raising it, one by one. Jonathan hugs and congratulates every around him--teammates, coaches, medical staff, equipment managers. They're the ones who are behind the scenes, the ones who make all of this possible.

Pierre McGuire pulls the captain away from his team for an interview. Jon doesn't want to be bothered with it, but he knows he has to for all the fans watching at home.

"World Junior, Olympic Gold, and now this. What do you have to say?" Pierre asks.

Jon is still in complete awe as he shakes his head slightly. "Oh my God. You know, it's.. it's like that commercial. I-I'm speechless. You know, this.. this team, uh, put on one heck of a run. But we knew from day one of this season we had the potential to do it, and to realize our goal it's just an amazing feeling right now."