Who Wouldn't Want To Be Me

Back at Marc's Becka immediately knew something was wrong with Cam. He had hardly walked in the door; Brent was helping him get out of his jacket, and as soon as her eyes landed on him they narrowed in suspicion before widening in shock.

"Oh my God, you're hurt!" she exclaimed, rushing over while Cam tried to downplay it again.

"Becka, I'm fine… Becka, ouch!" all she had done was put her hand on his side, and immediately he was in pain.

"You are not fine! What the hell happened to you?" she asked, and Cam looked at his feet, not wanting to say what had taken place in front of the idiot who'd hit him.

"Nothing, look, can we talk about this at home?" he mumbled, but it was obvious who was in charge right now, and Cam wasn't it.

"Cam, this isn't gonna just wait until we go home, unless Jordan's planning on driving us as soon as I get my coat on," she said, looking to me. I held my hands up in surrender; not wanting to get on Cam's bad side by not taking his side but at the same time not wanting him to suffer because of his own stubbornness.

"Do you want me to take a look at it Cam?" Amy asked, but he shook his head as before.

"Here, I'll take a look at it. Where's the bathroom again?" Becka took his hand gingerly, and Cam slowly followed along behind her, wincing with every step.

"What. The. Hell. Happened?" Amy demanded, her usually joyful voice deadly as she directed her gaze to each of us in turn, knowing one of us would crack. And as per usual Marc and Sidney were the first ones to crack.

"Max hit him into the boards," they both mumbled, and she looked shocked before rounding on Max, who was unfazed by all of this.

"You what?"

"So I gave him a little push, no big deal," he shrugged, and at least had the grace to look startled when she was in his face and had him by the collar of his shirt.

"WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU THINKING? YOU SERIOUSLY HURT HIM! ARE YOU THAT MUCH OF AN IDIOT TO LAY CONTACT ON SOMEBODY WITHOUT ANY EQUIPMENT ON? HE WASN'T EVEN WEARING A HELMET, WAS HE?" she demanded, and I felt a little satisfaction as Max floundered for an answer from her.

"Amy," Marc put a hand on her shoulder, as if to tell her to control herself a little but she shrugged him off and turned on Marc, temporarily letting Max off the hook.

"No! He's pulled bullheaded shit before, and I'm sick of this! Sick of seeing you guys get hurt screwing around doing something you know you shouldn't have, and then hearing you all complain about the team suffering because of it! Did nobody teach you all how to behave when you were kids?" Marc just looked at his feet, not wanting to make Amy angry or argue with her.

"I think I'll just head out; I'm obviously not wanted here," Max said a moment later, and while I knew Sid would be a little disappointed it would be short lived. He cared about the team, it was his life, and if Max had changed that much over the course of the summer Sid would soon leave that part of his life behind him; he was good at moving on.

"You can apologize to Cameron first," Amy informed him, and he hung his head, standing there as we all waited for Cam and Becka to come back. It occurred to me then that Torrie hadn't come out with the girls to see us, something out of the ordinary for her.

"She's sleeping; she wasn't feeling good," Amy told me as soon as I opened my mouth to ask the question. I nodded then, knowing how Torrie got when she was upset.

After what seemed like forever Becka and Cam made their way back over to us, and Cam must have taken some Advil or something because he wasn't looking as peaky as before.

"They're not broken or anything, but they're bruised; Cam won't be playing any contact for a few weeks," Becka informed us, while Cam stayed quiet. I knew he'd be devastated and angry about that.

"Cam, I'm sorry; I was out of line," Max said, and Cam nodded, not looking up at him. If that was me I'd be staring at my feet to keep from lunging at him and punching him right square in the nose.

"It's okay; shit happens, right?" He asked a moment later, an attempt of a smile on his face, although it was a poor one. Max reached out his hand for Cam to shake, and we all saw the hesitation before Cam did so.

"I'm heading out. See you around," and with that Max left.

"Stupid ass, giving checks when you're playing without equipment," Amy was still muttering to herself as she herded us into the living room, coming up with a hot pack for Cam's side.

"Shit that feels good," he sighed as he placed it on his ribs. I sat down beside him, and then scooted over to let Becka put herself between us. I understood; she was a little shaken up about this, that she'd want to be near him to help if he needed it.

"So, ma belle cher, is there anything we can eat?" Marc asked, putting his arms around Amy, who just laughed.

"Trust you guys to be hungry already," she rolled her eyes, getting up to go to the kitchen.

Becka went to offer to help, but then shot Cam another look. His eyes were closed and he looked like he was going to go right to sleep.

"He'll be okay; I'll keep an eye on him," I promised, and after putting her hand on my arm in a quick thank you got up to help Amy. We were all quiet, not knowing what to say after our fun day had turned so awful.

"Mario Kart?" Tanger suggested, and after a moment of silence we all burst out laughing. Cam started, looked around for a moment before shifting in an attempt to make himself more comfortable.

"You'll probably feel better if you lay down," Sid told him, and he shrugged.

"That's okay, I'll do that when I get home,"

"No, just stretch out; put your feet over me, it'll be fine," I said, and after a moment and some awkward and painful movements he was laying on the couch, and looking a hell of a lot more comfortable than he had before. His eyes closed again, and before Marc had the Wii set up Cam was fast asleep.

"Shit, I feel awful; if I hadn't invited Max he wouldn't be hurt," Sid sighed a moment later. It wasn't his fault; he didn't know Max was going to act like such an asshole to Cam, there's nothing he could have done about it.

"Sid it's not your fault, how could you have known?" Kris asked, and Neal nodded.

"Yeah, it's not like we knew he was gonna go all ape-shit on him," he seconded, and still Sid shrugged. It was going to take a while for him to get over what happened to Cam. Knowing Sid he'd blame himself for it until at least a few weeks after Cam was healed up and good to go.

"So if his ribs are bruised, how long is he out for?" I asked.

"Probably about the two weeks or so," Brooks answered, and I sighed. Just as I thought; he'd miss preseason and be under a shitload of pressure at the start of the season.

"So there goes his preseason?" Marc asked, and Brooks nodded.

"That sucks ass," Matt piped up, and we all had to chuckle. Being eloquent is not one of his strong points, but it sure made for good entertainment sometimes.

"Yeah, it does," I agreed, and was content to watch Sid, Marc, Neal and Matt race each other in Mario Kart; I didn't really feel like playing right now.

"Here's some snack food for you guys; it's all I could manage so you'll have to wait until supper or go to the convenience store and get something else," she told us, putting a tray with bowls of chips, pretzels, and trail mix down while Becka put down a plate covered in cinnamon buns; the icing all but dripping off of them. I felt my mouth watering, but knew that if I had so much as half of one I'd have to do a good hundred and fifty crunches plus do some sprints.

"Oh stop drooling and eat one Gronk; we aren't gonna tell," Amy rolled her eyes, pushing the plate towards me. The guys all smirked, knowing I was a sucker for anything homemade, but especially baked goods.

"I shouldn't," I refused and felt bad when Cam shifted; probably from me moving and talking.

"Something smells good," he said, and after a moment cracked an eye open.

"Cinnamon buns?" he asked, and Amy nodded, offering the plate to him.

"Yum," he said, taking one without a second thought. I stared at him, wishing I could just do the same. Even three years ago it wouldn't have fazed me, but at twenty three, while I'm by no means old, I'm a lot more careful about what kind of food I put into my body. The last time I was home and pigged out on mom's baking Marc, Eric, Jared and I all worked out together and I spent an hour puking and dry heaving. Needless to say I don't want a repeat performance.

"Amy these are delicious!" Cam said, eyes shut as he enjoyed the treat. I looked at the plate again, hearing my stomach grumble at just the thought of the icing and sugar and the soft dough.

"Oh fuck," I sighed, taking the smallest one on the plate and pulling a piece off to eat. It almost melted in my mouth, and I savored every second of it.

"Shit that's good,"

"Now if you're so concerned I'll make sure you don't have two," she rolled her eyes at me, and then giggled when Becka seemed confused.

"I swear, hockey players have more dietary issues and are pickier than super models," she told her, and moments later Becka was bursting a gut laughing.

"It's true,"

"We don't have dietary issues, we're trying to be healthy!" Sid objected, and even Cam smirked a little.

"Just you wait Cam; once you hit twenty two it all changes," I warned him, popping another piece of the cinnamon bun into my mouth. "Suddenly eating this stuff messes with your gut,"

"See? Dietary issues," Amy insisted, and I rolled my eyes.

"Shut up Amy,"

"Oi! You don't speak to her like that!" Marc said, throwing a pretzel at me and catching me in the side of the face.

"Sorry," was my sheepish reply, before we both cracked a grin and went back to what we were doing.