Hold Me

Having said goodbye to wives, girlfriends, children, fiancées, other family members who’d been there, Melinda found herself sitting alone in a couch in the family lounge at the United Center, her jersey clutched in her hands. Her jean-clad legs crossed, her trench coat lying next to her and a simple white v-neck stretching across her shoulders, she leaned forwards and rested her elbows on her knee.

Draping the heavy red fabric across her thighs, she caught sight of the diamond ring on her left hand, along with the platinum band that had rested there for the past two years. That wintery afternoon in a church up in Winnipeg, vows had been exchanged. Vows that she now had to honor…

She’d promised ‘for better, for worse’.

This was clearly the ‘for worse’ part…

Taking a deep breath, she grabbed her coat and her bag from the couch and stood up, straightening out her jeans before walking across the deserted lounge. Pulling the door open she headed out into the corridor and her heels clicking against the floor as she took the familiar route to the elevators, down to the bottom floor, two lefts and a right…

No one she passed cared that she was down there, another perk of being the captain’s wife she guessed and everyone working in the arena knew better than to disturb the wives whenever something like this happened. They had all as much right to be down there as the players, as anyone with an accreditation, anyone working in the arena.

Reaching the familiar double doors with a large Indian head logo painted on them, she hesitated for a moment.

It was a learn-as-you-go process, being married to a hockey player, especially when it came to someone like Jonathan Toews. Someone who took every win, every loss, every hit personally…

She might have played hockey for many years and been labeled as the sorest looser on this side of eternity, but she still couldn't quite imagine what Jon was feeling right then. When they had been eliminated from the playoffs just a short year earlier, it hadn't been quite as big of a blow; it hadn't come as such a big surprise.

That year, that season, things hadn't always been good and they had all but backed into the playoffs when the Dallas Stars choked in the last game of the season and lost. Lost the game and lost a spot in the Stanley Cup Playoffs, giving the Hawks a chance instead.

Everything from there on forwards had almost been like a gift, and after going 3-0 down against the Vancouver Canucks, most had thought that the season was over, for real this time. But they had managed to fight back, brining the series back to 3-3 and a Game 7 up in Vancouver.

In the last minute of the third period in said game, Jon had pretty much put the puck in the back of the net on sheer determination alone and then loosing it in overtime… Of course it had hurt, of course they had all been disappointed, but it also came with a huge asterisk

They could have missed out on playoff hockey altogether that season, just a year after they had gone all the way…

Considering the less than perfectly balanced and put-together team they’d had, they weren't going to deny that they had been playing on borrowed time. Sure, if the end-result had been another, if they would have won that Game 7, there was no telling how long they might have gone, but they hadn't won. And they left, knowing that there was always next year…

But it was next year now, and they had stacked up on gritty talent, playmakers and point scorers during the summer and had gone into the season confident that things would be different this time around and that they would have a deep playoff run.

Then they hit a hot goalie and were out in six games, losing everything in their own barn even.

Sure, she had the other wives and girlfriends to lean on, to ask for advice, but in the end of the day, she was the one married to the captain. She was completely alone in dealing with Jon after a loss like this one.

Since they moved in together she’d seen everything from silent rage to actually throwing things around the condo in fits of anger, but she was never scared that he would end up taking it out on her. In any other way than hot, frustrated sex that always left her thoroughly satisfied and pleasantly sore in the morning, that was.

There wasn’t a fiber inside of her that could even imagine him ever raising a hand to her, or any other woman out there under normal circumstances, much less in a rage after losing a game.

But standing there, right then, she wasn’t exactly sure what she would find once she walked through those doors and that uncertainty caused her to nervously run her fingers through her long, now auburn colored hair.

There was no doubt in her mind that the ever-present media-mob had left quite a while ago, notebooks and recorders full of polite and politically correct phrases that all of them knew by heart already. Most if not all the players had probably left already too…

Taking a deep breath, ignoring the sympathetic glance she got from one of the PR-people who was heading down the hall, she reached out and with feigned confidence pulled one of the doors open before walking inside the familiar room.

Overall it didn’t look much different from the first time Jon had taken her on a tour of the entire United Center, including a short skate out on the ice, as well as a quickie in one of the equipment rooms. Two laundry bins were overflowing with jerseys and towels in the middle of the room, stalls were haphazardly organized and a stick of two where still there, intentionally left behind or simply forgotten.

One thing, however, was very different.

Jon was standing before his stall, feet still bare and only wearing the dark grey pants that made up half of his designer suit; his shoulders slumped in defeat and his head hanging, looking every inch like a sad little boy…

The sight alone broke her heart more than the one out on the ice had. The one when they were lining up for the handshake line and the captain hadn't looked like a seasoned pro, but a sad child who’d just the one thing he wanted the most.

Licking her lips, she forced herself to move forwards and unceremoniously dropping her bag and her coat, along with the gameworn jersey he’d given her before her very first game out there, onto the cluttered floor, she walked up behind him. And she consciously ignored the way he flinched away from her touch as she reached up and placed her hand on his bare shoulder, the move hurt, but she knew that it wasn’t personal.

“Jon,” she mumbled as she kept her hand on his shoulder and moved to stand before him, silently begging him to look at her.

The dark eyes that never failed to remind her of melted chocolate finally landing on her blue ones; she could swear that she felt her heart shatter. Still just 23 years old, he carried a whole hockey team, an entire organization and sometimes even a whole city on his shoulders.

And seeing the unshed tears pooling in the eyes that could make her do practically anything with a simple glance, she did the only thing she could right then.

She reached out and wrapped her slender arms around his solid body, pulling him into a close hug, squeezing her eyes shut as it took a moment or two till she could feel his strong arms slip around her waist.

Feeling him bury his face in her loose hair, his warm breath tickling the skin of her neck, she had to swallow to get rid of the lump that formed in her throat as he held onto with such desperation that it almost seemed like he felt he would fall apart of either of them let go. Feeling the distinct wetness of tears against her bare collarbone, she almost lost it too.

Resting her chin on his shoulder, she slowly ran her fingers through the longish hair in the nape of his neck and rubbed gentle circles across his broad back.

When the reality of her mother’s passing had really hit her, she’d broken down into a sobbing mess and hadn't left their bed for close to a week, and he’d been there, right by her side. He’d helped her, comforted her, even when she’d yelled at him, telling him that nothing was ever going to be fine again. His only response had been to wrap his arms around her, kiss her temple and to softly whisper that he loved her.

And standing there, in the middle of an empty locker room below the United Center, she realized that in the two years that had passed, as well as during with the number of years they’d known each other before, she had never seen him this vulnerable. This full of raw emotions…

“I'm sorry,” she whispered against the side of his neck.

“I thought…” even his voice was broken, sounding more like that of a young boy than the strong confident captain she knew him to be. “I really thought we could do it this time. That we had a team that could go a lot further,” he mumbled into her hair, silent tears still wetting her skin.

Knowing that the phrase ‘there’s always next year’ only felt as a punch in the gut, served as a painful reminder that they had failed this year, she swallowed the natural response and simply hugged him tighter before leaning back slightly.

Catching his eye, she looked at him for a moment before erasing the space between them and pressing her lips against his in a familiar kiss.

The disappointment coursing through his body like fire quickly turned to lust and hungrily returning the kiss, he tangled one of his hands in her long dyed locks and the other one slipped under the hem of her top, greedily taking in the warm skin of her side and smooth back.

Pressing himself closer to her familiar body, causing her to stumble backwards, he smirked against her lips as she clawed at his naked shoulders before reaching up and steadying herself by grabbing onto the shelf above his stall.

His hand wandering over the curves that were forever ingrained into his memory, she arched herself closer to him and he groaned into the kiss as she easily hooked her leg around his waist.

Someone clearing their throat somewhere behind them caused them to freeze, Melinda squeezing her eyes shut and Jon slowly breaking the kiss before glancing back over his naked shoulder.

“Coach,” he cleared his throat uncomfortable, resisting the urge to rub his neck like he usually did when he was nervous as it would bring attention to where his hand was currently…

“Nice to see you, Coach Q,” Melinda mumbled into Jon’s shoulder as she refused to move, or look at the older man she had a huge amount of respect for.

“We all deal in our own way,” the Blackhawks coach noted simply, not looking up from the papers he had in his hands. “Just take it somewhere else.”

“Right,” Jon nodded quickly, neither of them moving till the coach had once again left the room.

“God,” Melinda groaned into his bare shoulder, her cheeks burning with embarrassment as her arms fell down to loosely encircle his waist. She had done some brash and sometimes downright stupid things in her life, but this…this was beyond embarrassing.

“We should take this back home,” Jonathan mumbled against her cheek, his warm breath tickling her skin as he reached up and gently cupped her other cheek with his hand.

“We should,” she agreed as she finally picked up her head and glanced up at him, quickly pressing her lips against his once again before untangling herself from him and walking over to where she’d dropped her things. Straightening out her t-shirt and her hair as she went.

“Thank you,” he said softly as he shrugged on and buttoned his pale pink shirt, glancing over at her as he did, knowing he didn’t need to say anything more.

“It’s what I'm here for,” she shrugged sheepishly, smiling softly as he left the top button undone and quickly tucked the shirt into his pants. Shrugging on his jacket, he only rolled his eyes as she snatched his tie from his hand when he attempted to stuff it into the pocket of said jacket and he watched as she rolled it up and placed it in the bag he’d gotten her for her birthday.

Shrugging on her trench coat, she pulled her long hair from beneath the collar and smiled slightly as she watched him pick up the simple platinum band from the shelf in his stall and easily slip it onto his left ring finger.

Picking up her bag and her jersey from the floor, she didn’t say anything as she watched him walk over to her, draping his arm around her shoulders before steering her out of the locker room and towards the parking lot. Leaning into his side, she slipped her arm around his waist as they went.

Walking through the familiar halls, Jon leaned over and pressed a soft kiss to the top of her head, breathing in the familiar scent of apple blossoms that her hair constantly smelled of. He was beyond thankful for having her in his life.

Loosing was something he still hated above everything else and he knew that he was a pain to be around, especially when they lost something like this. But if things had been like just a couple of years ago, if he would have been alone, he would probably still have been in the shower, distraught to the point of crying and intent on staying there till someone threw him out.

But during his two years as a married man, he’d learned that whilst it didn’t fix things, sometimes all you needed to make you feel a bit better, was to have someone to hold you….