Captain

I tried to walk my way threw the Consol Energy Arena to the Penguins locker room, which wasn't an easy task it's self. Two weeks ago I had surgery on my knee. Therefore, costing my last two games in the 2010-2011 OHL Peterbrough Petes and being my second season and all. Getting into the OHL itself was not an easy task, even if I was a Staal. I just didn't get things handed to me. I had to work ten times as hard as my brothers, guys didn't exactly like having girls in 'there' sport, therefore why I'm on crutches with a repaired knee. After my surgery, I went and stayed with Jordan, us being the closet and all, but I didn't really enjoyed the idea. I would have to see a certain Penguin at least everyday, and I don't think I'm fully ready to confront him yet. Besides it was kinda his fault. But after Jordan begging for what seemed like hours, I caved.

“Thank God.” I mumbled my breath after seeing the locker room doors. Carefully I lifted one hand off my right crutch and opened the door. Greeted by the smell of body spray and sweat. I made my way in there, Talbot noticing me first.

“Hey Baby Staal's here!” I smiled at him as everybody looked my way giving me smiles and hey's. Jordan walked over to me putting an arm around my shoulders giving me a kiss on the head. I smiled up at him before making my way over to Flower and Lovejoy, carefully sitting in between them.

“B-Staal!” I looked over at Pascal, “Jordan told bout the fight you got into, broke his nose and got teeth knocked out. Girl your on fire.” I chuckled at him, fist bumping him in the progress. I lightly touched the stitched up scar above my left eyebrow from that fight.

“That a girl!” Cooke said, walking by me ruffling my hair, him sporting a black eye and stitches around his own eye.

“Yeah, then a center checked me so hard, blew my knee out. Then missing my last two games, I didn't get to play a full game as Captain. Douche.” Craig Adams passed me on the way to his stall.

“Jord said you got Captain, congrats B.” I smiled.

“Thanks Craig.” I look over at Flowers, slapping my hand on his back.

“Flowers, my man. Gonna stop some pucks for me tonight.” He laughed.

“Anything for my favorite Staal!” I laughed, shoving him slightly. Geno walked over to me.

“You talked to Crosby, he really sorry bout everything.” I signed.

“I don't know Geno. He really hurt me.” Almost a month ago Sidney Crosby and I was the definition of a perfect couple, we never had a problem with one another. Then Game 3 happen in the first round of the Stanley Cup Finals. They lost 8-2. NHL's Golden Boy, won the biggest douche of the night award.

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Flashback

Sidney and I were on our way back to his place. I had flew down to watch a couple games. But, sadly, they lost. There was a really high tension in the air. Sidney wasn't holding my hand over the center console like he always does in the car. Both of his hands were gripping tightly on the steering wheel. With the look on his face, you'd think he was on a murder rampage. He was clearly pissed off. We haven’t spoken since I've been here. I didn't get to see him before the game like I always do, I didn't get to the arena ten minutes till they dropped the puck. And when I got to the locker room before the game, he didn't say nothing. The only gesture I got from him was he opening the passenger side door for me.

“You played great tonight” I said to him, feeling brave, turning my head towards him.

“No Brit, no I didn't. Don't try and say I did. I sicked tonight.” He looked straight ahead. I turned back around, looking out the windshield. I took in a breath.

“Look Sid, I know-”

“No, no you don't know Britain. You don't know what it's like to have the team on your shoulders. There turning to you when the team fails. You don't know what it's like to have everybody watching your every move. So until you know what it's like, don't tell me you do. Cause clearly you do not.” I looked at him, shocked.

“Maybe if you can't handle the pressure of everybody watching you, then maybe you don't need to be captain. Just if you can't handle it.” He looked at me, raising him eyebrows, letting out a dry chuckle.

“Whatever”

“Just take me to Jordan's.”

“Gladly!"

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Since then I haven't talked to him, he tried to talk to me, I just won't budge. That night when I went to Jordan's. I was heart broken. I cried all night to him, him being my big brother, let me. But he wasn't happy about it. Actually, he was beyond pissed off. He didn't talk to Sidney for weeks. I told him that he didn't need to be. It was my problem, and I can take care of it. When in reality I've been miserable without him. It wasn't the same. Before every game I would text him after his five o'clock PB&J. It became part of his superstition, a text saying 'Good luck. Play hard. I love you.' After the fight, I haven't done it once, even if we never actually broke up.

I looked at Geno. He raised an eyebrow at me. Out of all the guys, Geno and I seemed to be the closet. After what happen, he would tell me what's going on. He even told me that he caught Sidney shedding some tears in his stall a couple days later. I signed.

“Where is he?” I whispered, only to where Geno could hear. He smiled at me, he knew I was making the right choice. He helped me up, handing me my crutches leading the way.

He walked me me through the tunnel. I could hear Sidney's skates glide along the ice. He was taking shots at an empty net. He was out of his practice gear, replacing it with a pair of grey sweatpants and a Reebok shirt. His Penguin hat was on backwards. His hair had gotten longer, and it playoff beard was getting bolder. Geno put a hand on my shoulder, I turned to look at him. He smiled and kiss my forehead before turning around walking to the locker room. I made my way over to the player's bench, sitting down placing my walking sticks under me. I signed quietly, putting my long red hair in a lose ponytail. I've always like to watch him skate, his form dazzles me, the way he stickhandles amazes me. Even if I'm dating him and I'm his best friend. I always try to match up to Sidney Crosby, how he is on the ice, I try to take that to my own territory on the ice.

I saw him make a slapshot. Then try and hit the top bar. He made it, then signed rubbing a hand across his face. He skated his way to the bench, his head down. He raised it, and my eyes met his hazel one.

“Britain?” He looked at me

“Sidney.” He open his mouth to say something, but I stopped him.

“Look, I'm sorry ok. Your right I didn't know what it's like, I shouldn't of said anything. I'm not gonna lie you did hurt me what you said. Bad. But I didn't have to say anything. I'm sorry.”

He shook his head, “Britain I'm the one that has to apologize, you was just trying to help me, and I didn't take it. I shouldn't of said that to you, it wasn't fair. I'm sorry, for everything. I just let you go. You didn't deserve it.” He chuckled. “Besides, I guess you do know how it feels Captain.”

“Jordan told you?” He nodded making his way over to me, then sitting beside me.

“When did you get it?” I looked at him after she said that

“A week after our fight. I don't feel like Captain though.”

“Why?” I looked at him

“My first game as Captain I got into a fight I broke the guys nose and knocked out a couple of his teeth. I only got stitches above my left eyebrow. Well three minutes into the third, one of his teammates checked me so hard it blow out my knee and I had to have surgery, missing the last two games.”

“Damn.” He said under his breath. It was quite for a few minutes.

“So, ar-are we ok now?” I turned to look at Sidney, signing.

“Sidney you really hurt me.” He hung his head down. A idea popped in my head.

“ I'll make a bet with you, If you make the winning goal tonight. I'll consider it.” He smirked at me.

“You got yourself a deal Staal!”

It was 3-3 and the Penguins just went into overtime. The energy in the area was unbelievable. Marc-Andre has stopped 56 pucks, Cookie, and Sidney scored goals. I sat at the end of the players bench. I looked back at Coach, he nodded his head giving me a smile. We were playing on a power play, 10 minutes ticked down on the clock. Sidney was skating down the ice making his way over to the Capitals side.

He raised his stick.

I held my breath.

He shot.

I closed my eyes.

One Mississippi. Two Mississippi.

And as on que the horns blew.

I opened my eyes to the guys tackle Sidney on his goal. I smirked at the sight. He smiled with the guys, laughing at something Talbot said. I watched as the ref skated over to him, handing him something. He locked eyes with me, he smiled as he skated towards me. He smiled wide when he reached me. I laughed at him.

“Well I guess this is yours.” He said putting out his hand. I looked down, laughing. I grabbed the puck out of his hand.

“And I got the game winning goal. We cool.” He asked me took his helmet off., then his gloves I got up leaning more on one leg. I got closer to him reaching up grabbing his neck pulling him down to kiss him. He eagerly kissed me back, putting a hand on my waist, and another on my cheek.

“Good game Captain.” I said as we pulled away, smiling.