Horns Sound

“Madeline,” Brandon spoke getting down on one knee, “will you marry me?”

Their surroundings slowly morphed into a dense tropical forest. “Madeline.” She whipped her head around only to be met by a large talking zebra and everything clouded over.

“What the fuck is going on?!” She screamed flailing her arms.

“Madeline, calm down.” She couldn't see anything except complete darkness, but it slowly lifted. A large hand was soothingly placed on her shoulder as the room came into focus. Her eyes darted quickly around the hospital room, and it came back to her.

She had almost completely snapped her third metacarpal in half, the bone held on by threads. The doctor had to put her under to complete the break and set the bone. A large red cast covered all over her fingers, except for part of her thumb and went a little more than half way up her forearm.

Brandon was standing over her, his hand still on her shoulder. “I'm fine.” She slurred and tried to get up, but Brandon stopped her.

“You have to wait a few minutes, alright sweetie?”

“Kay--” Her eyes fluttered groggily and gradually widened as she came out of the anesthesia induced fog.

“How do you feel?” He asked sweetly.

“Like I punched a douche bag in the face. Oh, wait...” A sarcastic grin spread across her face.

“I see your attitude hasn't been affected.” Carefully, Brandon helped Madeline sit up. She winced as the IV needle moved, still embedded in her arm. “You okay?”

“Yep. Needle-thing.” Loosely, she gestured toward the crook of her elbow.

“I'm gonna find a nurse to take that out and clear you to go home, okay?” She nodded her head and Brandon got up from his place by her bedside. A nurse stopped him in the door way. He turned around abruptly to let her pass and to hear the verdict.

Her small hands adeptly removed the needle from Madeline. “How do you feel? Woozy? Dizzy? Anything like that?”

“Nope, my hand hurts a bit, but I think that's normal.” She smiled brightly.

“Then you're good to go.” The nurse smiled in response and exited the room. Madeline swung her legs off the bed and her boot clad feet hit the ground.

“Leggo.” She shouted and popped up, rearing to go.

“Mads, you're so weird sometimes.”

“Brands, you're a butt face all the time.” They walked through the hospital and to the parking garage.

“I don't appreciate your tone.” He teased as he pinched her sides. She squealed and turned to face him.

“Hey, you better watch yourself. You saw firsthand what happens to people who mess with me.” Her casted hand dangled in front of his face.

“They break your hand?” Brandon continued walking toward his car and opened the door for Madeline. She slid in and he closed the door behind her. He got in on his own side and started the car, Britney Spears poured from the speakers.

“How's that hand breaking comment feel now, Mr. Spears?” Quickly he switched the radio station and pulled out of the parking garage. They drove with “Spirit in the Sky” by Norman Greenbaum playing softly.

“You broke Kaner's nose, and some other shit in his face.” Brandon blurted.

“Seriously?!” Madeline turned quickly, her eyes wide in astonishment.

“Yeah.” He smirked at her excitement.

“Ahhh. That's so awesome. He totally deserved it too.” She clenched her non-broken hand and nodded.

“But you broke your hand.”

“Yeah, but he broke his face. Which one's funnier?” Brandon chuckled deeply and shook his head.

“I'm not even going to answer that.” They continued to drive down the relatively empty Chicago streets. Madeline's apartment was a good forty minute drive from the hospital, and she ended up falling asleep in the front seat. “Mads.” He cooed as he pulled up to her home. She blinked several times recognizing that he was calling her but stayed curled up on the large leather seat. “Mads.” His hand reached over the console separating them and poked her in the abdomen.

“What?” She groaned.

“We're at your place.” He slowly drew his hand back to watch her reaction.

“Are you going to find a parking spot or just park here and hope for the best?” Her hands went to her eyes and rubbed them in an attempt to wake up.

“It's late, I need to sleep, we have morning practice.” He hit the unlock button twice.

“You're making this difficult.” Madeline paused trying to find the right wording, “Stay here, again. You'll get more sleep.” He looked at her but didn't respond. “You're staying. Go park, now.” She sat up in the chair and waited for him to comply. Brandon obliged and drove down the street looking for parking. They found a spot a block away and parked.

When they got inside, Evan greeted them with a loud bark and went over every inch of Madeline's cast with his wet, black nose before licking the tip of her thumb. “Sweet, boy.” She whispered and stroked his ears. When she finally stopped petting her dog, she realized her boyfriend was no where to be found. “Brandon?”

A gurgled “bathroom” was all she got, so she went to the bedroom to change. This time she chose grey yoga pants, a faded black Goonies t-shirt, and blue fuzzy socks. Brandon knocked on the door just as she was slipping on her socks.

“Come in.” Madeline quickly gathered her clothes and heard him open the door, but she continued to the hamper in the corner. Brandon's clothes sighed as they hit the ground. He came up behind her and wound his arms around her waist. His bare chest pressed again her back.

“How's your hand feel?” Spearmint lingered on his breath when he spoke softly into her ear. She turned around in his grasp so her hands rested on his chest. It was then that she realized he wasn't wearing pants or shorts, but merely his charcoal boxer briefs that clung to every curve.

“Pretty okay.” Her good hand slowly made its way to the back of his neck and brought his lips down to her own. When the flush on his cheeks had spread down his neck, she stopped. “I have to take out my contacts, and you've got practice in the morning.” She left one last peck on his lips before exiting the room.

Brandon took off all the extra pillows, and pulled back the thick, down comforter only to nestle into the spot opposite of the night before. Madeline came in minutes later, plastic black rims adorned her face. She took her place under the blanket and scooted her way over to him. She placed her casted arm on top of his chest, and looked up at him dreamily. “Something wrong?” He asked.

“I have a question.” He draped his arm around her and squeezed her closer to him.

“You know you can ask me anything, Mads.” She bit her lip and sighed, not daring to make eye contact with him.

“When some of your teammates brought up our, um, relationship today,” she paused to find the right wording, “did it make you think?” Her breathing sped up and the muscles in her back began to tense.

“Mads, calm down, it's me.” He rubbed her shoulder and placed a soft kiss on the top of her head. “And your phrasing is a bit weird. What do you mean by think?”

“What if we had sex?” Her brave question came out so quickly it sounded like one long word. He shifted awkwardly underneath Madeline and cleared his throat several times.

“That's a bit ambitious, don't you think?” A nervous chuckle transitioned into silence.

“Never mind, it was a stupid question. Goodnight.” She turned over and reached for the light switch on the wall, her fingers couldn't quite stretch far enough. Brandon's hand covered hers and brought in back down to his chest.

“No question you ever ask me will be stupid, Mads. But, you just got released from the hospital because you broke your hand. They put you under. I have to be up in four hours. Not the best circumstances for this.”

“It was just a hypothetical-thing.” She mumbled, somewhat ashamed that she had thought it was a good idea to ask him the question to begin with.

“Then, hypothetically speaking, it would be weird as all hell, for several reasons: 1) It'd be the first time for both of us, who knows what the fuck would go wrong. 2) We're both waiting for marriage. 3) Even if that wasn't the case, I wouldn't want that to be how our relationship was. I've seen the girls the guys go through, I don't want you to be someone I just toss aside. Now go to sleep.” He removed her glasses from her face, placed them on the nightstand and turned off the lights. Madeline turned over on her side and moved closer to the edge of the mattress. Casually, Brandon made his way over to her, and pulled her against him lovingly. He buried his face in her auburn curls and drifted off peacefully, while she laid staring at the blurry wall and listening to the grandfather clock tick away each minute. Regret washed over her, and lulled her to an anxiety driven slumber.

A phone alarm woke them both of their slumber. Brandon felt around on the floor until he found his phone and through bleary eyes, managed to dismiss the ringing. Madeline stirred at his side. “What time is it?” She mumbled.

“Five. I should go soon.” His fingers danced along her arm.

“Can I come?” Her soft brown eyes looked up at him sleepily from underneath her lashes.

“Of course you can come.” Their mouths connected for an innocent moment.

“I should get changed then. And about last night--” Brandon's hand went up and covered her mouth.

“It was something we should've talked about a while go, honestly. It's done. I love you. Now go get dressed.” She wriggled her way out of his warm embrace. Her long legs carried her over to a large white dresser. Black leggings, a maroon sweatshirt, clean underwear and wool socks became a bundle in her arms. Brandon dragged his hand down his chest as he watched her trounce out of the room. Quickly, he pulled himself together, grabbed his clothes from the ground, and put them on.

Madeline came back just as Brandon tugged his shirt over his head, and stopped to admire the view. He smirked when he saw her standing in the door frame, with doe eyes. “Shall we?” He questioned, walking toward the door. Her trance had been broken and she yipped a yes.

Brandon bought coffee for Madeline on the way down to Johnny's IceHouse. They exchanged 'I love you's before he headed to the locker room, and she to the stands.

She took a seat five rows up behind the bench. There were a smattering of fans, family members and wags staggered along the boards. When the team came out on the ice everyone cheered and then, they went to work. They practiced drill after drill, and the only two sounds were the echos of Coach Q's whistle and skates grinding against ice.

Practice went by quickly. The final whistle blew and the team skated back toward the locker room. Patrick Kane had a splint covering his nose and his face was still swollen from the night before. He hadn't talked with anyone through out their entire practice. Tazer tried his hand at banter, but not even that could break Kane's sour mood. He was the first person in the locker room and the first one to leave.

Murmurs started as soon as they heard the door close. “What the fuck's up his ass?”

“He's probably still pissed that Man-Child's girl knocked him off his high horse.”

Jonathan Toews noticed Saad's head hanging a little lower, like he was guilty. He slapped his friend on the shoulder. “Hey, Saader, buck up. Kaner will be fine, he's just in a mood. It's not your fault he crossed a line and got caught. Ya' know?”

“Yeah.” A weak smile crossed Brandon's face as he untied his skates. Jonathan went back to his locker to grab the rest of his gear and left.

Madeline stood outside in front of Brandon's car, with her hands stuffed deep into the pockets of her black peacoat, waiting in Chicago's bitter winter for him to come and unlock the doors. Jonathan walked toward her, a confused look on his face. “Why aren't you waiting inside?” He called, not yet within talking distance.

“I thought the cold would be invigorating. I was wrong.” The harsh wind had left her cheeks flushed and hair slightly unruly. As her teeth chattered violently, he brought her into a tight hug.

“It's good to see you.”

“You too.” She shivered. Jonathan was about to let her out of the embrace when she stopped him.

“No, you're warm.” Madeline could feel the vibrations from his silent laughter.

“People are gonna think something's up if I don't let go.” He backed off slightly, but still teetered on the personal space boundaries of friendship. His eyes fell to the bright red cast enveloping her hand. “Shit, Mads, this is what happened?” He brought her hand to his face to examine it fully. “What you did was stupid. You should've let someone else handle it. Now your hand's broken. That was so damn reckless of you. Is it a full arm cast?” He lifted up her jacket sleeve slightly.

“No,” she stopped to swat away his prodding hand, “it barely goes all the way up my forearm. And what's done is done, calm your shit.”

“Yeah, Tazer, calm your shit.” Brandon's voice mimicked behind them.

“Finally!” Madeline exclaimed. “I've been waiting outside for half an hour. I can't feel my body.”

“I believe I can fix that.” An impish grin spread across his face as he pushed his Captain aside and bent down to press his sweet heated lips fervidly against her's.

“Bye?” Jonathan mumbled disconcertedly. The two paid no mind. Brandon's hands wandered underneath her coat, and traveled across her chilled skin. Madeline stopped him when she started to feel the frigid breeze on her back.

“We're in a parking lot, and I'm still freezing. Can we go home?” He took his keys out of his back pocket and hit unlock. “Thank you.”

“I need clothes.” He said, as he closed his car door. “We're going to my place. See, if you stay over, you can borrow my clothes. However, I don't fit into a women's small. We need to figure this out, though. Is staying over going to be a regular thing? Should we get an apartment together? What about Evan?”

“How about, you put some clothes in a duffel bag and we go over to my place to figure this all out?” Without responding, he pulled out of the back lot and drove to his apartment to collect a few things.

When they got back to Madeline's Patrick Kane was waiting in the lobby accompanied by a quaint man in a disheveled looking suit. “Madeline O'Shea?” The man's voice quivered.

“Yes?” Brandon and Madeline watched both men intently. The man stepped forward with some sort of paper work in his hands.

“Mr. Kane, is filing a Civil case of Assault and Battery against you, for the damage you did to his face. This,” He fumbled awkwardly through a manila folder before producing a four page document, “is the paperwork regarding the suit being brought against you.” She reached out and took the file from the man.

“Patrick, can I ask you something?” Madeline started. The two men conversed momentarily.

“I may or may not answer it, but sure.”

“Who do you think is going to represent you in this case? Him?” She pointed to the forty-something man currently passing as an attorney.

“For your information, I'll be recruiting the best lawyers in Chicago, from Connor and O'Shea Law.”

“O'Shea, hmm? Sounds familiar. Sounds like my last name. If you think for five seconds my family would take you on as a client in a case against me than you're crazy. If you think for five seconds longer, then you'll connect the dots. Practically every single law firm in this fine city is in partnership with my family. You'll never get a local lawyer to take your case. So I'm going to ask you nicely, to drop this. You broke your nose. I broke my hand. You crossed a line and so did I. Let's let bygones be bygones.” She extended her hand toward Patrick. He took one look and laughed.

“You're going to get what's coming for you, O'Shea.”

“Fine, I'll see you in court.” Madeline walked briskly toward the elevator, Brandon trailing shortly behind. The doors opened and they got in. He put an arm around her reassuringly, not sure if his words could do anything. She rested her head on his shoulder and sighed heavily as the doors closed. “I'm so fucked.”