Come To Life

Marc Staal skated around the rink, increasing his speed with each lap. He pushed himself to his limit. He was struggling to breathe, all his muscles and joints were aching, but he kept going. He pushed and he pushed. He moved the puck around, his eyes locking with the back of the net, he brought his stick back and hit the puck sending it firing into the net. For every shot he got in the net he forced himself to take another lap around the rink. The pain from pushing himself kept his mind off of his failed attempt at getting married.

Marc stood in the room designated for the groom and his groomsmen. Marc stood there by himself while all his groomsmen were out making sure everything was right for the wedding. He smiled as he realized they were all probably hitting on the bridesmaids.

Just as Marc was buttoning the bottom of his sleeves the door opened. He turned thinking he would be greeted by someone in the wedding party, he was surprised when his bride was standing there. His beautiful, tall, short haired blonde wife.

"I can't be seeing you! Don't you know it's bad luck to see the bride before the wedding?" Marc smiled at her. He noticed that she wasn't wearing her dress.

"That's if you see her in her dress before the wedding," She replied softly, twisting her hands nervously.

"Where is your dress, Alaya?" Marc asked, stepping closer to her.

"Baby," She sighed. Marc noticed that she didn't have her engagement ring on either.

"Where is your ring, Alaya?" He asked, pointing to her hand.

"I can't do this," Alaya whispered.

"What do you mean? The only reason we're getting married is because you begged me to get married," Marc replied, trying to stay calm. He prayed this was some sort of very odd and cruel joke everyone was playing on him.

"You want me to be some sort of WAG and I can't be that," Alaya replied, Marc knew she was making this up. She was looking for an excuse to get out of this wedding.

"I have never wanted you to be that!" Marc fought. "You've assumed that I want you to be that! Alaya, this is stupid. Please go put on your dress."

"I'm not marrying you," Alaya replied, shaking her head.

"Honey, this is just pre-wedding jitters. Everyone goes through it. Tanya went through it on her's and Eric's wedding day and look at them now! We're going to be fine. Please go and put on your dress," Marc begged.

"There's someone else, Marc." Alaya whispered.

Marc took his stick in his hands, holding it like he would a baseball bat and threw it as hard as he could against the boards. The stick snapped in half as her words rang through his ears a million times.

There's someone else, Marc.

"Staalsy," Came the voice of Dan Girardi.

Marc looked up from his shattered hockey stick and saw his teammate skating out to him.

"Fucking stick felt off," Marc mumbled. "It was handling badly."

"Yeah, buddy." Dan nodded, giving Marc a pat on the back. Dan was wearing his usual street clothes while Marc was still wearing his uniform.

"You know practice ended two hours ago, right?" Dan asked when Marc continued to stare at his broken stick.

Marc nodded. Ever since the wedding 'mishap' in the summer Marc didn't say much and he was always staring off into space. Dan helped him out a lot and had been there a lot for him when Marc came back to New York. Dan had proved to be a really good friend to Marc through this whole ordeal.

"Okay," Dan nodded. "Well we have that charity event in about an hour and a half."

"I'll go home and get ready then," Marc nodded, reaching for his stick.

"I'll get that for you. Just go home and get ready, okay? Be there for six, okay?" Dan stated.

"Six," Marc nodded. "Thanks, Dan."

Marc skated off he ice and back into the locker room. He took off his gear and changed into his street clothes. He didn't bother to shower, he figured he'd do that at home. What home?

Marc drove to his new apartment which was Alaya free. This apartment wasn't as nice as his old one, but it was perfect for him. Two bedrooms, one and a half bathrooms, full kitchen and a living area. It was nice even though most of it was still crawling with boxes and packing paper. He didn't really want to completely move in. A part of him had hope Alaya would come running back.

Marc stood in the shower letting the warm water and the pressure from the shower head work the aches and pains out of his sore body. All he ever did was train and workout. He didn't want to do anything else. Having down time meant that he had time to think and when he had time to think things got bad.

When Marc got out of the shower to get ready he could stand to look at himself in the mirror as he put on his suit. He didn't want to be reminded, yet again, of his fiancé leaving him for another man.

Nick Martin. Fuck that kid.

Marc sighed and grabbed his wallet and keys once more before leaving again. He showed up at the event, putting on a happy face. It was a charity auction and 'casino' night. Everything the players won they donated to a charity of their choice, then at the end of the night there was an auction for signed Rangers memorabilia.

Marc walked to the bar and got a scotch. It wasn't generally his choice of drink, but it was strong enough to make this night tolerable. He bumped into a tiny, auburn haired woman in a tight black dress.

"I'm sorry," Marc stated with no real emotion. He gently place a hand on the woman's arm, acknowledging her.

"That's all right," The woman smiled up at him. "I'm Zoey."

"Marc,"

Zoey told him that it was nice to meet him and excused herself.

"Who was that?" Ryan Callahan asked, nudging Marc playfully with his elbow.

"Some girl named Zoey," Marc shrugged, swirling to amber liquid around in his glass.

"That's not just 'some girl', Staal." Michael Del Zotto stated, coming up beside the two men. "That's Zoey Simon."

"I don't know who that is," Marc shrugged, watching the girl. She was pretty, but Marc didn't really want to do anything about it.

"I think you should," Michael stated. "Her dad helped plan this event. He's some big investment banker here in Manhattan. Super rich, super successful."

"Oh, so she's just some little rich girl. I've had my fill of rich girls," Marc mumbled, downing the rest of his drink. He turned to go get another and came face to face with said rich girl.

"Just another rich girl, huh?" She smiled up at him.

"So it seems," Marc replied, not caring that he was being really mean to this girl for no reason. He knew he was making a mistake being a dick to the daughter of the man who helped with this charity event. He didn't have to include the Rangers in this event at all, but he did. Marc knew he should be grateful, but he wasn't.

"Another rich girl whose only cares are sales at Barney's, getting a good spot during New York Fashion Week, and finding a rich investment banker just like her dad to marry?" Zoey stated, smiling up at him. Marc was taken back by the fact that she was actually fighting back.

"Well, Marc Staal, I do shop at Barney's, I only go to Fashion Week when my mom happens to get tickets and I have no desire to marry someone simply for their profession," Zoey explained. "I have gone to Haiti to help rebuild after the earthquake, I helped rebuild parts of New Orleans after Katrina, I volunteer with more charities than you have fingers to count on, and I'm going to school to be a teacher. So, tell me. Am I really just another rich girl to you?"