Status: Finished!
You're the Dagger in My Heart
Chapter 2 - Overtime
It was Overtime...
Brad lined up across from Tyler for the first time in the entire game. They’d been avoiding each other for the most part, until now.
“Thanks for the advice, Segs. It really helped me out!” Brad snarled, beginning his chirping.
“I’ll say, you’re a turnover machine!” Tyler spat back.
“Look at yourself! Bergy’s won more faceoffs than you! Is that what you call being a good centre player?”
“Don’t make me hit you, Marchy!”
“Go on, try! I’d love to have you hit me!”
“Shut up!”
“Make me!”
“Marchy, stop chirping!”
“Make me, Segs!”
Tyler and Brad shoved each other back and forth, tying one another up at the line. Patrice glanced to the side to shoot his linemate a look, before the ref dropped the puck and the Bruin centre won it. Again.
Brad tore apart from Tyler, sliding to the side to get open. Tyler struggled to mirror him. Patrice passed the puck back to his defender, who quickly passed it forward to Brad. Brad skated around Tyler and shot at the goal again. And again the puck sailed into the glove of the goalie.
“Aw, better luck next time!” Tyler catcalled, flashing his classic smile at Brad. Though this time, the smile was full of disgust and sarcasm.
Brad rolled his eyes and headed to the bench. Shawn Thornton patted him on the head, sending a dark look to Tyler.
“Don’t start anything, little *beep*!” Shawn shouted at Tyler, who skated into his bench, ignoring the Bruin forward. (We all know what Shawn Thornton said)
A few plays later, Brad Marchand, Patrice Bergeron, and Tyler Seguin were back on the ice. Tyler and Patrice squared off for the puck drop and Tyler won this time. Brad eyed Tyler, as everyone launched off from neutral ice.
“Hey, Marchy, watch me make a goal on Tuuks like I used ta in practice!” Tyler taunted, as he was passed the puck, skating by Brad.
Brad pursued him, shaking his head. “Not against me, you little Texan!” He stuck out his stick, as Tyler got set to shoot a wrister at Tuukka. Tuukka got ready for him. Brad managed to get the puck out and spun around, keeping the puck close to his stick. He immediately shot it across to his linemate, Patrice.
“Oops,” Brad sighed shrugging. He shot Tyler a smirk and skated off, in case his NEW buddy needed him.
Tyler rolled his eyes and turned around, pushing himself after Brad. The two got into a shoving match, as Tyler easily caught up to Brad, using his speed. They battled all the way down the ice, trying to shake one another.
“You’re not going to win tonight!” Brad screamed.
“Oh yeah?!” Tyler retorted.
Patrice got tangled up, just past the blue-line and sent the puck reluctantly toward Brad. Brad caught it and worked to keep it with him, as Tyler pressed on him. They fought each other for possession of the puck, trapping themselves along the boards and eventually Patrice came and bailed Brad out, once again, by taking the puck in one swift Patrice Bergeron-y move.
“Quit getting distracted by Tyler, Marchy! Your bromance is over! Let it go! We need you to score! We need the hot-headed Brad Marchand!” Patrice snapped, as he expertly maneuvered the puck away from the chaos and passed it to Torey Krug, who came forward from the blue line.
Brad shoved Tyler away and sprinted after Patrice, toward the bench. Tyler brushed himself off. He felt exhausted, but he knew he had to keep going.
He hated the Bruins.
He hated Brad. And he knew Brad hated him.
There was no going back.
Brad Marchand and Tyler Seguin the best of friends were dead, now they were bitter rivals. On the ice.
Overtime came to an end with no goals scored.
Brad lined up across from Tyler for the first time in the entire game. They’d been avoiding each other for the most part, until now.
“Thanks for the advice, Segs. It really helped me out!” Brad snarled, beginning his chirping.
“I’ll say, you’re a turnover machine!” Tyler spat back.
“Look at yourself! Bergy’s won more faceoffs than you! Is that what you call being a good centre player?”
“Don’t make me hit you, Marchy!”
“Go on, try! I’d love to have you hit me!”
“Shut up!”
“Make me!”
“Marchy, stop chirping!”
“Make me, Segs!”
Tyler and Brad shoved each other back and forth, tying one another up at the line. Patrice glanced to the side to shoot his linemate a look, before the ref dropped the puck and the Bruin centre won it. Again.
Brad tore apart from Tyler, sliding to the side to get open. Tyler struggled to mirror him. Patrice passed the puck back to his defender, who quickly passed it forward to Brad. Brad skated around Tyler and shot at the goal again. And again the puck sailed into the glove of the goalie.
“Aw, better luck next time!” Tyler catcalled, flashing his classic smile at Brad. Though this time, the smile was full of disgust and sarcasm.
Brad rolled his eyes and headed to the bench. Shawn Thornton patted him on the head, sending a dark look to Tyler.
“Don’t start anything, little *beep*!” Shawn shouted at Tyler, who skated into his bench, ignoring the Bruin forward. (We all know what Shawn Thornton said)
A few plays later, Brad Marchand, Patrice Bergeron, and Tyler Seguin were back on the ice. Tyler and Patrice squared off for the puck drop and Tyler won this time. Brad eyed Tyler, as everyone launched off from neutral ice.
“Hey, Marchy, watch me make a goal on Tuuks like I used ta in practice!” Tyler taunted, as he was passed the puck, skating by Brad.
Brad pursued him, shaking his head. “Not against me, you little Texan!” He stuck out his stick, as Tyler got set to shoot a wrister at Tuukka. Tuukka got ready for him. Brad managed to get the puck out and spun around, keeping the puck close to his stick. He immediately shot it across to his linemate, Patrice.
“Oops,” Brad sighed shrugging. He shot Tyler a smirk and skated off, in case his NEW buddy needed him.
Tyler rolled his eyes and turned around, pushing himself after Brad. The two got into a shoving match, as Tyler easily caught up to Brad, using his speed. They battled all the way down the ice, trying to shake one another.
“You’re not going to win tonight!” Brad screamed.
“Oh yeah?!” Tyler retorted.
Patrice got tangled up, just past the blue-line and sent the puck reluctantly toward Brad. Brad caught it and worked to keep it with him, as Tyler pressed on him. They fought each other for possession of the puck, trapping themselves along the boards and eventually Patrice came and bailed Brad out, once again, by taking the puck in one swift Patrice Bergeron-y move.
“Quit getting distracted by Tyler, Marchy! Your bromance is over! Let it go! We need you to score! We need the hot-headed Brad Marchand!” Patrice snapped, as he expertly maneuvered the puck away from the chaos and passed it to Torey Krug, who came forward from the blue line.
Brad shoved Tyler away and sprinted after Patrice, toward the bench. Tyler brushed himself off. He felt exhausted, but he knew he had to keep going.
He hated the Bruins.
He hated Brad. And he knew Brad hated him.
There was no going back.
Brad Marchand and Tyler Seguin the best of friends were dead, now they were bitter rivals. On the ice.
Overtime came to an end with no goals scored.