Line in the Sand

Max could not focus as he went through the motions of practice. He could not believe what he had said to Kris. As if he hadn’t stressed out the man enough, now he was just adding to the problem. Upon returning to the locker room he’d had every intention of changing and finding Letang, but instantly saw that his friend was still in the room. Unsure if this was a good sign or a bad sign Max inched closer. Once he’d come within a few feet of the man he could see he was unusually pale and unnaturally still. Migraine, Max’s mind told him. I’ll just add that to the list of pain I’ve cause him lately. Without a word to Tanger, he quickly turned back to the team that was streaming into the room, most of them watching him and Letang anyways, and motioned for them to keep their voices down and mouthed the word ‘migraine’. The majority of the men nodded sympathetically while a few gave him dark looks, correctly assuming that he had done something to cause it.

“Hey bud, got one of your skull crushers?” Max said in a soft, quiet voice.

“Fuck off,” Letang responded through grit teeth.

“How long ago did it start,” came the quiet voice of Fleury, who kneeled beside Kris while completely ignoring Talbot.

To the new voice Letang opened his eyes and looked up fractionally, as though he did not trust that it was not Talbot. His eyes were a bit out of focus and his hair was wet with sweat, but it was clear to those who’d seen it before that the worst was almost over. After making eye contact with Marc-Andre, Kris responded to the question.

“Started whenever Max went out for practice,” he practically whispered.

“Well I’ll change real quick man then we can do the usual routine,” said Fleury as he stood up, receiving a groan from Tanger in response.

The team continued to keep their volume level low out of respect for their teammate. Bylsma watched his player worriedly, having never actually witnessed one of his legendary migraines, but stayed away as suggested by some of the veterans. Max was worried too. It was true that Kris used to get them all the time under stress, but the brunt of one lasting over two hours like this was was something that hadn't happened in years. There was nothing Talbot wanted more than to quickly change and go through the ‘migraine routine’ that Kris and Flower had created, but Tanger had made it quite clear that he did not want any help for him. With the mess he’d made of everything else so far, Max decided to respect Letang’s wishes and stay back. For now.

Within minutes Fleury had changed out of his gear and rejoined Tanger at his locker. The man had not moved since the goaltender had left him, nor had he acknowledged any of his other teammates. Talbot changed at a quick pace as well, finishing slightly before Marc-Andre and watching his friend from afar. Soon Letang and Fleury were making their way out of the locker room and down the hall at a crawl, and Max made a move to inch after them; that's when Bylsma decided to step in.

“Max, a minute,” he said to the winger, pulling him off of his course.

Talbot sent another glance after his retreating teammates but knew better than to ignore his coach, not to mention the many players eying him as well. With a frustrated sigh he turned toward his coach and followed him into his office. Bylsma closed the door behind Max firmly, and walked to the desk at the front of the room without a word. Dan stood their simply watching his player, analyzing his behavior. Max was obviously impatient, shifting his weight uneasily and constantly looking back toward the door. Bylsma could understand that the man wanted to follow after Kristopher, but his defenseman had made it clear he did not want Talbot around. He still wasn't sure exactly what was going on, but he had managed to get some players to ‘hypothetically’ advise him that Kris could use some time without his roommate.

“I didn't mean to hurt him,” Max said, breaking the silence.

“He's not hurt this time Talbot, he's just got a headache,” Bylsma returned evenly.

“He gets those from stress and I'm the one who is making his life Hell,” Max responded without a pause.

“Well then, why have you been making his life Hell?” Dan asked the logical question.

To that Max did not respond immediately. The Frenchman dropped his head and his eyes went to the floor. Bylsma was not going to let the question go, but he wasn't going to push his player either. He needed to know what the issue between Letang and Talbot was, due to all the dilemmas it was causing, but he would let Max take his time in his response. It was obvious that Talbot was unsure of how to respond as opposed to being difficult, and Bylsma knew that getting harsh with him would only make things worse. So he patiently waited, watching as his player seemed to drift off in thought. After what had been at least five minutes, Talbot finally looked back up to his coach.

“I guess it’s just easier that way,” said Max in a still distant voice, and when his coach stayed quiet he continued. “Kris is a good guy, really a great guy. He’s always put together, always cool headed in a situation, and way too modest. I don’t know, I guess I feel like I don’t really… I don’t know, it’s like the way he acts sometimes makes me less comfortable with myself. And instead of dealing with it, I guess it’s just easier for me to make him feel like shit too. And now that I say it out loud I feel like such a horrible person for doing that to my best friend.”

The explanation had taken a while for Max to get out, but once it had the man seemed to relax fractionally now that he had the admission off of his chest. Dan said nothing for a short time, even though he could tell that this reaction was making Talbot uncomfortable. He needed to digest all that Talbo had told him, and hopefully be able to suggest a way to solve the problem. He knew Max and Kris were good friends on and off the ice, and would hate to see a good relationship end. That’s when the last part of Max’s statement hit him.

“So even with all you just said, you still consider Kris to be your best friend?”

“Like I said, he’s a great guy. He’s always been there for me when I needed him and normally we get along great, it’s just been lately that’s been weird,” Max responded, no doubt in his mind that he still considered Tanger his closest friend.

“Well,” Dan started cautiously, “if you guys are as tight as I think you are, then I think you should tell Kris what you told me.” To this a panicked look appeared on Talbot’s face but Bylsma continued, “Like you keep saying, Kris is a good guy. It seems to me it would help him to understand why you act the way you do, and maybe he can help to fix the problem.”

Max let out a long sigh, but was also nodding slowly in agreement. He could see the logic in what Bylsma had said, and he knew he could trust Letang to be mature about his admission. Like he trusted you to be mature about his phobia? Talbot’s mind reminded him. Max glanced to his coach once again and gave him a serious nod of thanks before turning back to the door, sensing that he was dismissed. The locker room was still filled, with everyone waiting to board the bus, but the guys were ignoring him for the most part. With the signal from Dan the men began heading out of the room and Max quickly grabbed his jacket and followed suit. He was soon on the bus and sitting by himself, Kris having taken a cab earlier with Flower. Talbot took advantage of the time alone, thinking of how he could best talk to Kris about how he felt. Now I sound like a girl, his mind said, but he ignored it. Max knew that he was quickly running out of chances to patch things on with Tanger and he didn’t want to mess this up.

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