Master of Timing

Sidney stood behind the bench with his hands folded across his chest as he watched morning skate. He woke up feeling alright and decided to stop by Consol to see how the team was faring. They were now 8 weeks into the season, and the Penguins were currently experiencing a losing skid. Their road trip out east hadn’t gone the way everyone had hoped and even though he knew it wasn’t his fault, Sidney couldn’t help but take the blame.

His team were out there playing and losing and he couldn’t captain them. Not properly.

He had spent the entire month of November watching from the sidelines. Some days, it wasn’t even that. He had attended two home games for the whole month, the rest he was too concussed to do anything but try to not throw up from the nausea still messing with him. When he could make it to practice, he would do his best to get involved in what was happening, and after a few attempts the coaching staff let him be, figuring if he felt okay enough to offer his expertise, they weren’t going to argue.

The trainers however, absolutely refused to let him put on a pair of skates to hit the ice with the boys.

“Murphy’s law, Sid. You get out there, something is bound to happen, accident or not,” Mike told him, and Sidney felt deflated for the rest of the day, sulking to himself.

They were trying their hand at forechecking drills, before leading into a power play. Their PK unit had held strong over the last week, but something just wasn’t clicking in the offence. And to be honest, it was pissing Sidney off. He was sick of watching his team lose, but it frustrated him more than he couldn’t see why. His eyes darted over the ice, following the first line that now consisted of Spaling-Malkin-Hornqvist. Nick sent the puck out wide from centre ice but Tanger was on Geno’s heels and hooked his stick in between the forward’s right arm, blocking the puck and sending it back.

They reset.

“Hey Cros, how you doing?” Pascal appeared beside him and gently clapped a hand on his back.

“Hey, Duper,” the captain replied quietly, shaking his hand. “How’re the kids?”

They chatted back and forth for a while, both more interested in how their team was faring without them than with the injuries they were both currently sporting. Dupuis had taken a puck to his ribs and was out for a week, the bruising catching him just where his guards ended on his chest.

Like Sidney didn’t have a reason to hate the Flyers already.

Morning skate wrapped up and they headed back into the rooms, both staying behind to catch up with the rest of the guys before everyone went their separate ways for lunch and pre-game naps. Sidney knew he didn’t have to be there, that everyone still remembered exactly who he was and that he was still the leader of this team, but he just needed his own reassurance. He had been too wrapped up in his own head for the better part of a month, and he was ashamed to admit that he had woken up from at least two nightmares that had ended with him finishing his career before he even turned 28.

“Andy!”

“Hey Sid, how’s it going?”

“Eh, it goes,” He smiled, his jaw not hurting anymore. He was going in for the dentistry next Monday, and was actually excited to have his back bottom teeth again, now that he had been all cleared by his doctors that he jaw was healing exactly the way they wanted.

At least that part of his body didn’t want to make him neck himself.

“You need a hand with anything?”

“Actually, yeah.” Sidney looked around, nodding with a smile at Kunitz who gave him a peace sign back, and Andy tapped his elbow, leading him down the hall to his office. In there, he shut the door and gestured to the seat, leaning against his desk. “I was hoping you could tell me the name of the hospital I was at in Edmonton.”

Andy’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, but he moved to behind his desk, looking for paperwork. “Anything in particular you need to know?”

He shook his head. “No, I keep meaning to send a ‘thank you’ package but I can’t remember the name of it. Thanks,” He muttered, leaning over the chair to take a print out. Misericordia General Hospital. “What was the name of that doctor, again? The funny guy?”

“Michaels? Something Michaels… yeah, Sam.” Andy looked through his emails under the ‘Crosby, concussion’ folder, scrolling for information from the Penguins doctors that they had forwarded him while he stayed behind. “You alright, bud?”

Sidney was frowning at the paper in front of him, a headache beginning to form behind his eyes. He knew it wasn’t really his fault at the moment that he couldn’t remember the names of the people who had helped (except for one, he didn’t think he’d be able to forget Lyndsey anyway), but it put him on edge all the same. “I’m good, thanks for this.” He gestured with the paper and headed out, rubbing his temples as he headed down the hall.

“Yo, Sid!”

Kris jogged behind him, his wet hair sticking to his forehead before he pushed it back and slid a Pens cap on backwards.

“Nice block on Geno there, Tanger.”

“Eh, it’s always good to one up him,” Letang joked, nodding his head. “I’m sure everyone’s already asked, so hope you’re feeling alright. Just wanted to invite you over tomorrow if you’re up to it, Catherine was asking after you.”

Sidney smiled, thankful for the day that Kris finally got his act together and married the love of his life. They were great together, and were always good to him whenever the rest of the team picked on him for his weird habits he had outside of the rink. Like how he refused to drink soda during the season or only had water with a lemon slice.

“Sounds good, but it’s kind of a day-by-day thing. Can I text you tomorrow?” He asked, and Kris agreed, heading out with him to their cars before going their separate ways. The headache that had started behind his eyes was now making his skull feel like it was being crushed and Sidney got out of the parking lot as quick as he possible, so he could get home to take another ibuprofen to stop the pain.

He hated concussions.



Lyndsey had just finished taping the last bit of tinsel around her computer screen. She had at least waited until the clock went past midnight before she started putting the decorations up in the ward, much to Jackie and Sam's amusement.

"It's officially the holidays!" She protested, slapping Sam's hand away as he pretended to pull down the 'Happy Holidays' banner across the desk.

"Yeah, but... It's like, 12:18 Lynds. Have some self control."

"Paging Doctor Michaels. Ward 3." came over the speakers before Lyndsey could reply, and she waved him away with the flick of her hand, fluffing the tinsel a little more.

Christmas was her favorite time of year, followed very closely by Halloween. As much as she liked to complain about the snow and the cold, she wouldn't have it any other way; they had Christmas carols playing lightly on the radio in the background, the ER was surprisingly warm considering the blizzard that was about to develop outside, and everyone was still on high alert for some serious accidents, even if the mood was uplifting in general.

"So," Jackie started, spinning her chair around.

"So?"

Jackie rolled her eyes, pointing to the bouquet of flowers that Lyndsey had gingerly placed on the floor under her desk. They were gorgeous, an array or orchids and wildflowers, the oranges, purples and blues contrasting brightly against the dull white walls of the ER office. It was an unexpected surprise to have once she started her shift and at first her thoughts went to Kate who had said she was going to send her something to cheer her up after the crappy couple of weeks she had gone through.

But no.

These flowers were not organised by someone in Australia.

"Are you going to let me read the card or what?" Lyndsey paused and she nervously thumbed along some of the paperwork by her mouse pad. "I know it's from him.”

"What?"

Jackie laughed at the look of surprise on her friends face, pushing away from her desk and rolling over to bump Lyndsey's chair with her own. "Sam got something too, as did the team upstairs. But you're the only one who got flowers."

"Oh my God, Jackie," Lyndsey muttered, reaching down to get the card and begrudgingly handing it over. She chewed on her thumb nail while Jackie read, and saw the smile spread across her face before she slipped it back in the envelope and pushed it towards her.

"What spell did you put on him?"

"Shut up."

"I'm serious. No patient that wasn't actually mine has ever sent flowers. On that note," She thought for a moment. "No patient has ever sent me flowers."

"I don't know why he did that."

Jackie scoffed again, tapping the card. "Uh, hello? "Your company meant more than I can explain, I hope I can make it up to you”? I mean, I don't think it's a bad thing," She rushed, seeing Lyndsey frown then focus her gaze on the paperwork in front of her. "You gonna call him?"

"No." That was one thing Lyndsey was adamant about. Why the hell he had put his cell number on the bottom, she had no clue. It probably wasn't even his number in the first place, and she wasn't about to call or text some random number in Pittsburgh when she had no idea what to say or how to start the conversation anyway.

"Fine," Jackie huffed, moving away to leave her to her work. "What's with the 'stay gold' part?"

Lyndsey only smiled.



He saw the delivery confirmation email in his inbox and opened it quickly, seeing that all the packages he had organised were at least at the hospital. He hoped they'd find their way to the intended staff members without too much interference. He questioned his judgement about the cell number, but shook it off.

If she wanted to leak it, he'd just get a new phone. No biggie.

But he really hoped that Lyndsey would at least try to contact him back.

He lent back into his pillows with a sigh, shutting off his phone as he pushed his palm into his left eye. It did nothing to relieve the growing pressure behind his skull, and he had decided enough was enough and that it was probably time he mentioned it to the team doctors. He had put it off for two days already.

He knew he was going to be in trouble. So he carefully avoided the glare of Kades, who was leaning against the bench opposite Sid, his eyes following the doctor's finger up, down and around.

The last bit hurt to do.

"Sid, Sid, Sid, what're we gonna do with you?"

"I know," He muttered solemnly, looking down at his lap, his fingers intertwined. "I thought it would pass.”

Mike scoffed and stood up fully, his hands on his hips. "Crosby, you have a concussion. You're basically an expert in this by now," He moved over to put a hand on his players' shoulder, squeezing gently. "Can I call you an idiot?"

Sidney looked up and glared, before Mike's smile broke him down and he rolled his eyes. Ouch. No, don't do that again. "I'm fully aware of my idiotic tendencies, thank you Mike."

He received a slap on the back and got off the bench, taking the script Dean had prescribed for another round of pain killers. "These are different than the last, only one a day. Usually with breakfast." He nodded in understanding, swiping his wallet and keys up before shoving them back into his jeans.

"When can I start training again?"

Kadar and Dean shared a knowing look, one that Sidney had seen a few times in his career. It was the 'what do you think he should do because he's not going to leave without a start date' look.

"We can maybe start thinking about some light conditioning work, getting you back into game shape." Mike crossed his arms. "No ice time, no cardio. Light weights and reps, and absolutely no pushing yourself if symptoms even begin to start."

Sidney nodded. "Can I start sitting in on practice?"

"Sure," Dean agreed. "Kader's right, no ice time. Don't worry, it won't be long until you're back out there, if you're already feeling okay." He could see the resignation on the Captain's face. "I'm not going to say when you can put the red jersey on, because things can change immediately. But, some light gym sessions, maybe some bikes or treads. We'll take it as it comes."

He was grateful. There was no hesitation this time round that he already felt ten times better than last month. He practiced everyday, his little brain exercises and deep breathing to keep his mind in check, instead of spiralling into some form of depression. That was hard enough to come back from last time and Sidney was adamant that he was going to make himself better, his body working against him be damned.



“Finally,” Lyndsey groaned, as she fell onto the couch, her head landing in her Mom’s lap. Her mother just laughed and handed her the remote, running her fingers through her hair absentmindedly as she continued to read her book.

It was Friday. She had finished work at 8am that morning, went home and slept and then had a fairly productive afternoon, all things considered. Now she had the whole weekend to herself (she hoped) to catch up on the tv shows she had missed and to go shopping with some friends. It was about damn time she treated herself.

“Did you go grocery shopping today?”

“Yeah,” Lyndsey sighed, wiggling her phone out of the back pocket of her jeans to rest it on her stomach.

“Thank you honey.”

She smiled up at her mom before turning back to the TV. There was some random gardening show that neither of them were paying attention to, so she decided to channel hop. She skipped straight to the sports to check to see how Chicago were doing, and frowned a little to see them losing, horrendously to Dallas. She huffed as Lehtonen blocked a shot, then glared to see Jamie Benn nail Keith into the boards.

Your captain is demolishing my boys.

She saw the little bubble responding to her text almost instantly, and quickly calculated to herself that Kate was probably lying in bed watching on her laptop. It still tripped her out that she was half a day ahead of her, and that she knew people already living in tomorrow.

THAT’S BECAUSE HE’S JAMIE BENN. WHAT A SEXY BEAST. Tazer is probs about two seconds from chucking a hissy fit.

He would not… actually, yeah he would. then he’d get all bambi eyed at kaner and he’d have to come in and save the day.

She hit send just as Tyler Sequin sent a snapshot past Crawford, and Trevor Daley nearly wiped his first line center out with the celly.

GO BABY GO!

Lyndsey groaned and pouted to herself a little, switching the channel. ESPN were doing a half time report on Sidney, analysing the stats of where he was at with this concussion compared to the last one and she rolled her eyes at the presenters who were wrongly predicting when he’d make a comeback. He'd make a comeback probably around the time a) he could get through a week without feeling sick, and b) once his doctors cleared him to. She understood where they were coming from - he was only the greatest player of his generation, and an international hockey hero - but laughed to herself if they thought for a second that any concussion could be treated like another.

“That’s such a shame,” Her mom commented, looking over her glasses at the TV. “Did you hear any more about him?”

She hadn’t quite told her mom about the flowers, or the truth of them anyway - they were sitting on her bedside table and she had only told a little white lie; that they had come from a patient at the hospital who’s case she assisted on. Her mom had accepted that as it was and that was that.

Look at that beautiful smile. The picture accompanying the message was of Seguin’s face and she rolled her eyes.

“No, I didn’t. He went home during the day. The team sent a thank you package to the hospital, said we’d have tickets to the next game or something,” She explained, chewing on her lip as she looked at her phone again.

She had saved his number under ‘SC’. She blatantly ignored Jackie’s suggestion of ‘Canadian Hockey God’ and settled on something that she would trigger her memory when she came across it if she ever scrolled through her contacts. Lyndsey didn’t have the nerve to text him. What the hell would she say to Sidney Crosby? ‘Oh hey, hope your feeling better, look me up next time you’re in Edmonton?’ like some puck bunny? No.

She had a better fan experience with him than any other fan will ever get in their lives and she took that as it was. An experience, and now a memory.

That she kind of wished she could get over.

“That’s nice of them. Hopefully you can get the night off.”

“Huh?”

Her mom frowned at her lack of manners and flicker her forehead gently. “Don’t ‘huh’ me.”

“Sorry,” she laughed. “Pardon mother dearest, can you please repeat yourself?” Which just made her mom frown more and get up off the couch, rolling her eyes as she made her way into the kitchen. Lyndsey smiled and moved up more, shuffling the pillows behind her head to make herself more comfortable.

She quickly flicked back to the game, and cringed to see 6-1 to Dallas flash on the screen for the end of the second period. Knowing the game was basically over, and that Kate would give her a play by play for the next half an hour and she decided to keep channel surfing.

Lounging around on the couch on a Friday night in her pjs sounded like an alright party that she was keen to settle in on.

Bollig’s cuter she teased back in a message, already laughing at the kind of response she was going to get.

UHM. you are in fact wrong. i’ll admit he’s cute. and you’re wrong.

She stopped pressing the ‘down’ button on the remote, without looking at the TV and quickly typed back, her fingers moving across the screen with ease.

’Seggy’s a BABY! And that team only has him & Jamie for face value anyway.'

HEY! JORDIE BENN CAN GROW A GREAT BEARD OKAY?!? LEAVE HIM ALONE! DON’T NOT INCLUDE HIM TOO!

She waited a few moments as the bubble appeared instantly.

Oh wow that was grammatically incorrect. Whatever.

“Get lost, hood!”

Lyndsey’s eyes went wide and she snapped her neck to look at the TV.

Of course. Of course The Outsiders would be playing, while she sits here contemplating her fate and the cards that she had been dealt. She tried to talk herself into it, giving it the old ‘you’re a 27 year old woman, just man up and text him!’ but it hadn’t worked. She wasn't really into the whole destiny/fate thing, but it seemed like someone, somewhere was trying to tell her something.

She picked up her phone and quickly typed out a message, contemplating the bag of worms she was about to open.

I have a dilemma. She hit send.

She looked up again and watched the movie for a few minutes, until she realised the headache she was getting was from frowning too hard. God Patrick Swayze was such a babe.

What? That your team forgot to bring the heat to the Madhouse tonight?. She rolled her eyes and decided just to tell her. Kate had told her stories of her fair share of famous encounters with people in the music industry, maybe she’d know how to handle it.

Those flowers from Sidney came with something else.

A ONE WAY TICKET TO CROSBY TOWN?

She laughed, despite herself. No… his number. And now I don’t know what to do.

WHAT?!? HOW?!? WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME BEFORE? oh my god, text him right now. quick. and then tell me everything he says, it’ll be like mean girls but way better because sidney’s hotter than regina george.

okay, that didn’t even make sense. What the hell do I say?! I’m not used to being around famous people, I need your expertise!

She knew, she knew that Kate would be rolling her eyes but she couldn’t care less. For the past three days she had all these thoughts bouncing around in her head, trying to come up with a logical explanation as to what he meant by saying ’i hope i can make it up to you' but... nothing. She couldn’t just text him randomly to say hi, could she?

Dude, the great thing about famous people is that at the end of the day, when they’re away from whatever makes them famous, they’re just people. They pay taxes and get credit cards and poop just like every body else.

Lyndsey threw her head back and laughed. Of course Kate would say that. Her phone buzzed again.

Just text him, saying thanks for the flowers or something and that you hope he’s feeling better that he’s home. What have you got to lose?’

My dignity she replied straight away.

The only person losing dignity tonight is Tazer because he just chucked a spack and broke his stick against the boards. TEXT HIM.

Another buzz.

Then tell me everything.

Lyndsey rolled her eyes and exited the message, letting herself get lost in the movie for a few more minutes. Only once she found herself smiling, more so at the memory of reading to Sidney than what she was actually watching on screen, did she gather the nerve to open her phone again, ignoring the photo of Kate kissing her computer screen with Jamie and Tyler’s face on it, creating a new message.

Thank you for the flowers. Orchids are my favorite :). Send.

“Oh God, oh God, oh God,” She said to herself, throwing her phone onto the other couch and running into the kitchen, ignoring her mom’s shaking of her head as she poured herself a glass of milk.

“You alright?”

“Yep,” She answered back, a little too quickly to pass off as ‘okay’ but thankfully her mom ignored it, turning back to the stove and stirring the chicken. She leant against the island in the kitchen, chewing on her lip between gulps to try and calm herself down, staring into the kitchen cabinets. She didn’t even notice her mom leaving the room.

She had just texted Sidney Crosby.

Well.

She had texted the number that said it was Sidney Crosby. Big difference.

What if it was a joke? She didn't think he was the kind of guy that made jokes like that, but hockey players are hockey players and they have some of the worst reputations out of all the sports stars (cough Tyler Seguin, cough cough) and even if he didn't come off as the kind of guy that would do that - he had signed the biggest contract known to NHL history. The man could practically do what he wanted to who he wanted, regardless of the consequences.

But she argued with herself. He was a nice guy, a nice Canadian guy who has had his head screwed on straight since he was born and didn't strike her at all as the kind of guy to take advantage of a situation. Or take advantage of another person, esepcially a woman-

“Lyndsey!”

She broke out of her daze, and walked to the living room, seeing her mom hold her phone out while she changed the channel on the TV. “Your phone was buzzing.”

Lyndsey barely caught it as her mom tossed it to her, catching it face down against her chest. She walked back into the kitchen, put the phone and glass on the island bench and took a step back, staring at the iPhone hard enough she’s surprised she didn’t burn through it.

“Okay. You can do this. It’s probably just Kate. Man up.” She took a deep breath, while cringing at how stupid she was actually being, before she flipped the phone over to see the screen.

I was beginning to think you forgot about me.