Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Cameras flashed and Gorgug blinked, trying to clear his vision. When he did, he kind of wished he was still blinded by the light. There were a lot of people in the room, all looking at him, all waiting for him to speak. He managed a wave, causing a small ripple of mostly good-natured laughter in the crowded space. Gorgug used the moment to take a breath. He still wasn’t really used to this many people paying attention to just him. There were more people in an arena, obviously, but when he was out on the ice the attention of the crowd was spread out and he was too busy watching for the puck to think about whether or not people were focused in on him. There wasn’t really anything to distract him in this room, the only decoration on the white press room walls was the banner of sponsor logos behind him and the little whiteboard by the door that listed the interview timeslots. From the doorway, out of sight of the cameras, Jawbone gave him a thumbs up.

“So,” said a reporter close to the front, “you were one of the first draft picks this year for the Owlbears, that’s got to feel good.”

“Oh, yeah, I mean, definitely,” said Gorgug. “It uh, my parents were super happy about it and the fans have been really nice, you know, super welcoming.”

The fans had been extremely welcoming, even if it was weird to go online and see people sharing the same looping gif of him taking off his helmet over and over again. At least it seemed like they liked him? Or they liked his hair anyway.

He ran a hand through his hair, and several cameras flashed to capture the motion. He tried not to look as startled as he felt.

Another reporter raised their hand. “You’re taking over the goalie position from Zayn Darkshadow, who was only with the Owlbears for a year before he got hit with an injury that they’re now saying might keep him out of the game permanently. Obviously people get superstitious around sports, so is that affecting you at all?”

“Uh, not really?” said Gorgug. “I, uh, hadn’t really thought about it?”

He ran a hand through his hair again and the cameras flashed in response. Gorgug flexed his hands under the table. This media stuff was tough.

--

Fabian leant back in the chair as soon as he sat down, nodding at the handful of reporters he recognised by name and smiling at the small number who were noted fans of his father. Despite the trial that draft day had been, it felt good to finally be receiving the level of attention that befitted a Seacaster.

“Good afternoon.”

“Hiya Fabian,” said one of the ones he’d smiled at. “You look like you’re settling into the Owlbears pretty well.”

“Well they’re no Leviathans but they’re a solid team, and I look forward to being a valuable part of it,” said Fabian. “Working with a coach who played with my father, albeit briefly, is obviously a huge honour for me. It’s wonderful to work with someone who truly understands what the Seacaster name means to so many people out there.”

A hand shot up towards the back of the room, a reporter he didn’t know. “You’ve said before that when you got drafted into the national league that your personal goal would be to beat your father’s goal record, is that something you and Jawbone are working on?”

Fabian stilled. “I- we have discussed it, although obviously I would never sacrifice the goals of the team for my own personal desires.”

The same hand raised at the back. “Your father pretty famously got a lot of criticism for that, putting himself before the team, does that mean you’re working on being a different kind of player to your father?”

“I, uh- Not exactly, I- Obviously my father was a tremendous player and it would be an honour to… to… uh- Yes, sorry, you in the middle, you have a question?”

--

“Yeah, yeah, I’m back, take two, get all your jokes out now,” said Fig.

“You were almost banned from the league a few years ago when you were first drafted,” said one of the reporters. “What has made you feel as though now is the right time to come back?”

Fig opened her mouth and then closed it again. Yelling at some no-name reporter about Gorthalax wasn’t really the I’m chill now vibe she was trying to create.

“I was- I had some personal stuff happen and I let that affect my performance,” said Fig, “but, it, uh. That’s in the past now, so I’m totally cool and ready to play.”

“Will it affect you to have your father reporting on the Owlbears?” said a reporter towards the back. “Since it was him responding to an interview about your mother’s affair that preceded-”

“Gilear Faeth is not my father,” snapped Fig. She stood up, putting her hands on the table to stop them from shaking. “I am here to discuss hockey, but since you idiots and too fucking obsessed with my personal life, you can take your follow up questions and shove them up your-”

--

“Ha ha, no, yeah, it’s been really great,” said Kristen. “I mean, big change, big change, coming from Helio to here but that’s- that’s life you know, always changing.”

Kristen gave what she hoped was a relaxed and natural-sounding laugh.

“So there’s no truth to the rumours that you weren’t told about the trade before it occurred?”

Kristen felt sweat break out along the back of her neck. Her stomach churned. “I, uh. Of course I knew, I mean, that would be pretty messed up for them to not tell me they were trading me, right? So obviously they told me, and we talked it out. I mean, I’d been on that team since I, uh, since my first year and uh, I mean, it was hard to leave, of course it was, because when you’re with a team for so long they really feel like family and it, uh… Sorry, what was the question?”

--

“How does it feel to be drafted after being in the junior leagues for so long?”

Adaine considered the reporter for a long moment. “Good.”

“And, uh, are you… your sister was drafted a few years ago now to Hudol, are you looking forward to facing off against her during the season?”

Adaine let out a breath, trying not to let her irritation show on her face. “Yes.”

“Are you going to give more than one word answers to any of our questions?”

“Maybe,” said Adaine.

--

The room was a little emptier by the time it was Riz’s turn to go in. He tried not to take it too personally. Most of the footage that would actually get used in clips and articles would be from the new players, or the big names for the team. Being out for most of the season wasn’t exactly great for getting your name out there. It also didn’t help that he’d been given the last spot of the day again , everyone's enthusiasm dampened by tiredness. 

He felt relieved to see Gilear at the front. At least he’d ask a couple of questions instead of forcing Riz to sit in silence while most of the reporters leafed through their notes to try and figure out who he even was.

“Hi,” said Riz.

Gilear nodded, pausing and gazing around before he raised his hand. Riz huffed a laugh.

“Yeah, hi Gilear, what’s up?”

“Hello Riz,” said Gilear. “Are you looking forward to the upcoming season?”

“Sure, always am,” said Riz.

“Shellford, AV Times-”

“Yeah, I know who you are,” said Riz. “We’ve- We do this every year.”

“I’m being professional,” said Shellford slowly. “I have a question about your latest injury-”

“Yeah, I’ll bet,” said Riz. “It’s- It’s fine. I mean, I’m sure you all got the report, so you know I’ve been cleared to play.”

“But how do you feel?” said Gilear.

It would have stung coming from anyone else, but Gilear had been there the night Pok had gone down, had even stood with Riz and Sklonda as he was loaded into the ambulance and had never used any of what he’d seen that night in his reporting. It was a question tinged with genuine worry rather than a shark sensing blood in the water.

It didn’t mean there weren’t sharks in the room with them though. Riz bit the inside of his cheek, thinking. His shoulder did ache a little but - it was fine. It didn’t hurt more than a bruise, and anyone could play fine with a bruise. 

“I feel fine,” said Riz. “I feel ready. I’m excited to get back out there on the ice for training.”

“How long until your next injury?” said Skrank.

A couple of the other reporters laughed. Gilear’s eyes dropped to the notepad in front of him. Riz curled his hands into fists in his lap, digging his nails into his palms.

Riz forced a smile onto his face. “Well, y’know, I’m going to try to get to at least four games in a row this time. I guess we’ll see.”

Training Camp

It was kind of ridiculous. She was an adult after all, she was a professional hockey player, had been for years , it was just… There was something about walking into a new arena and knowing that this was supposed to be her new home that made Kristen feel like it was the first day at a new school. She’d played at the Augefort arena before, of course, and she knew some of the players on sight, but it was different to be on the other side of things, going into what felt like the wrong locker room and feeling like she was trespassing into the Owlbears offices when the coach took her on a tour.

Jawbone was a different kind of coach too. He kept asking her how she was feeling , which she didn't really know how to answer. She was fine, physically. That was all Coach Daybreak used to check in on her for. Emotionally, she felt…

“It’s complicated, I guess,” said Kristen, “I mean, I don’t want you to think I’m not going to try my best, because of course I will but it’s… I was just with Helio for a really long time. I kind of thought I’d stay there until I retired.”

Jawbone nodded, his expression sympathetic. Kristen forced a laugh, looking out onto the empty rink.

“I mean, I guess that’s kind of unrealistic for most players.”

Riz Gukgak chose that moment to skate out onto the ice. Something twisted in Kristen’s stomach. Riz had been with the Owlbears almost as long as she was with Helio and the Owlbears seem inclined to trade him away, even with his record of injuries. It must have been something in her, then, some mistake or imperfection that Coach Daybreak had seen in her that Jawbone was willing to ignore. She swallowed around the tightness in her throat.

“Well, we’re happy to have you for as long as you’re happy to be here,” said Jawbone.

He waved to Riz and Riz shot towards them, as fast as ever on the ice even though he’d been benched for three months. She wondered if he’d been sneaking in unsanctioned practice sessions. That was what she’d do, if she were out as often as he’d been. Being off the ice for too long made her feel antsy, unsettled.

“Hey Gukgak,” said Jawbone, leaning a hip on the railing. “How’re you feeling?”

“Good, great,” said Riz, “what’s up?”

“I’m just showing one of our new hires here around, thought you might like the chance to introduce yourself,” said Jawbone.

Jawbone’s phone buzzed, twice. He glanced down at it, frowning as it buzzed again.

“Hi,” said Riz, “We uh- I guess we already sort of know each other?”

“We do?” said Kristen.

“Yeah, we’ve, uh... played against each other a couple of times?” said Riz. “We almost had a face off last year but I- Uh.” His eyes darted away and then back to her face. “I tripped, so, uh. I had to go off. You faced off against Ragh instead.”

Kristen shrugged. “I uh- sure. Good to re-meet you, I guess.”

Riz stuck his padded hand out, shaking her hand in an oddly formal way. She laughed, unforced this time. Riz gave her a quick but genuine-looking smile, there and then gone in a flash, and the feeling of tightness in Kristen’s chest loosened a little.

“Say,” said Jawbone, “Riz, I know you’re showing Adaine around a little bit today, but how would you feel about one more? The rest of my day’s turning into back-to-back meetings before we leave and it seems a shame to have Applebees here and not give her the chance to test out our ice.”

“Sure,” said Riz, “I think Adaine’s in the locker room now getting ready?” Turning more towards Kristen he added, “We’re not doing anything major, just warm up stuff, some drills and stuff before. Give you guys a chance to get a feel for the rink before we get on the bus.”

“Cool,” said Kristen. “Okay, uh, I’ll just…”

Kristen headed to the locker room, hesitating outside the door for a moment before she let out a breath, forcing herself to take a step forward. She was on the Owlbears now, she may as well get used to wearing the uniform.

There was a blonde woman in the locker room already, lacing her skates. She looked up as Kristen entered.

“Uh, hi,” said Kristen. “I’m- are you Adaine?”

“Yes? Sorry, I’m almost ready,” said Adaine.

“No, it’s cool, I’m- I’m Kristen Applebees, I’m, uh, I’m new too so we’re going to- Jawbone said I should join you guys? You and Riz, I mean, obviously I’m already on the team, ha ha.”

“Right,” said Adaine. “I’ll… see you out there, I guess?”

Adaine finished lacing her boots. Kristen kept her eyes fixed on her locker, very careful not to even so much as flick her eyes towards Adaine as she got her uniform out. She waited to change until she could hear Adaine’s skates against the hallway outside, just in case… Well. Just in case.

The Owlbears locker room was a big open space, with a line of lockers running down the middle of the room to give some privacy. Even with the lockers in the way, the space felt cavernous, enormous. The Helio home arena locker room had little alcoves for them, so they could pull a curtain across when they got changed. The Owlbears one does not, but neither do any other locker rooms she’d ever been in for away games. She was used to holding her neck stiff, so she didn’t give in to the impulse to look at anyone else. Someone told her once that doing that could make people uncomfortable.

Adaine was already out on the ice by the time she was finished changing, looping slowly around the red and navy cones they had set out on the ice. She and Riz looked over to Kristen as she reached the edge of the rink, hovering at the gate. Riz waved to her, not even looking down at his feet as he looped around the cones, gliding forward towards her and stopping just short of the gate.

“Hey, you’re pretty good!” said Kristen.

“Yeah, I’m uh. I’m a professional hockey player?” said Riz.

“No, I meant, uh- It’s kind of a surprise, I know you had that shoulder thing, and that wrist thing before that, and… a knee thing? Was that you?”

“Yeah,” sighed Riz, “that was me. But y’know. New year, new chances or whatever it is Jawbone says.”

Kristen hadn’t heard Jawbone say that exact thing, but that was his vibe, so she nodded.

“And, y’know. I still got a chance to practise a lot before the other guys, uh, when they weren’t using the rink. For, uh. For safety, so they didn’t bump my shoulder accidentally, or anything. You know how it is.”

Kristen nodded again. She watched Adaine go around the cones, fast but with a little less surety than Riz, her gaze fixed on her skates.

“I think I’ve played against her sister a couple times,” said Kristen. “She’s, uh… pretty intense.”

“Yeah,” said Riz, “But Adaine seems okay. Not so… I’m less worried she’s about to take off her skate and hit me in the face with it.”

Kristen laughed, the sound startled out of her. Adaine looked over.

Kristen waved a hand. “Nothing, just- we were talking about your sister-”

“Right, of course,” said Adaine, wrinkling her nose. “ Everyone wants to talk about my sister.”

“I don’t,” said Riz. “I’m worried if I say her name three times she’ll jump out of the ice and strangle me with my own boot laces.”

Adaine paused, her skates slowing on the ice as she glided to a stop. “What?”

“That’s like, the only thing your sister’s ever said to me, so it just kind of-” Riz wriggled his fingers, the gesture exaggerated by the gloves. “Stuck with me, I guess.”

“ That’s the only thing she’s said to you?” said Kristen, “That she’s going to strangle you with your own boot laces?”

Riz shrugged. Someone waved to him from the sidelines and he shot off towards them, leaving Kristen and Adaine alone on the ice.

Kristen blinked. “Wow, your sister is-”

“Incredible at trash talk? A championship player?” offered Adaine, her tone bitter. “Alight with intense passion for the sport of ice hockey?”

“I was going to say kind of a freak,” said Kristen. “Uh. No offence.”

Adaine paused for a long moment and then the corners of her lips twitched up, a huff of laughter escaping her. “What, really?”

“Yeah, I mean, coming to a new team is bad enough without having to deal with that. Again, no offence but I’m kind of glad you’re here instead of her,” said Kristen.

“I- “ Adaine opened her mouth and then closed it again. “Thank you.”

“Hey, guys!” Riz waved to them, drawing Kristen’s attention. “This is Tracker, she’s kind of the unofficial assistant coach, she’s going to help run through some stuff.”

Adaine nodded. Kristen tried to copy the motion, the movement made difficult by the sudden stiffness in her neck. Tracker was a little older than her, her long dark hair flipped to the side to display a freshly shorn undercut, her vintage Owlbears jersey cut into a crop top. Kristen couldn’t figure out where she should be looking. Not at the hem of the crop top area, that was for sure, but looking directly into Tracker’s eyes felt way too intense. Tracker gave her an odd look and the tightness in Kristen’s neck spread to her chest.

“So you’re assistant coach?” said Kristen. Her voice cracked, and Adaine gave her a look.

Tracker laughed. “Not really, I’m Jawbone’s niece and I’m supposed to be having lunch with him before you guys leave but he’s stuck in some meeting, so I may as well help out you knuckleheads. I’ve seen enough drills to know how it’s done.”

“I’ll bet you have,” said Kristen.

Tracker frowned. “What?”

“What?” said Kristen. “I, uh. You must have seen a lot of sport stuff, being the coach’s niece.”

“Sport stuff?” said Riz quietly.

“Yeah, I guess,” said Tracker. “Anyway, let’s get you guys started, I think the other guys are due to start getting here in like an hour.”

Riz’s shoulders hunched up, a spike of tension running through them. “Right, yeah.”

Tracker patted him once on the shoulder. “Give me a sec to go grab my skates.”

Kristen watched her go, slightly mesmerised by the swish of Tracker’s hair over her shoulder.

“Is anyone else joining us?” said Adaine. “I know we’re not the only newbies.”

“They’ll be here later,” said Riz.

“Why do we get the special training camp before the training camp?” said Kristen, hoping her smile didn’t look as forced as it felt.

Riz shrugged. “You’re the ones who were here early.”

“Oh,” said Adaine, frowning. “Wait, why are you here so early, if it wasn’t to train us?”

“So I don’t get-” Riz stilled, his skates drifting a little on the ice. “I mean, uh. I just like getting here early. It's kind of nice to do something like this before the long bus ride out, and I’m kind of- I don’t mind working alone. It’s easier to train that way sometimes.”

“Really?” said Kristen. “I mean, maybe that’s why you get injured so much, if you don’t do enough training with the actual team.”

“Right, yeah,” said Riz. “Yeah, maybe.”

He pushed off on his skates, gliding away from them and making a loop around the goal, his shoulders hunched in on themselves. Adaine gave Kristen a look.

“What?” said Kristen, keeping her voice quiet to try to stop it echoing over the ice. “It is weird to train for a team sport by yourself.”

‘Yeah, just… I mean I’ve seen some of the game footage,” said Adaine. “The rest of the Owlbears don’t seem like they’re that great at playing with him either.”

“What?” said Kristen.

“You guys ready?” said Tracker’s voice from behind them.

Kristen turned, her heart thudding suddenly in her chest. Tracker was decked out in an Owlbears uniform except for her glittery silver ice skates. It was kind of adorable. Kristen shook herself. This was her first day and her kind-of assistant coach. She had to focus. On the sport. 

Tracker grinned at her as she skated forward.

Kristen swallowed. She had to focus on the sport .

“So we’re just going to run through some basic drills,” said Tracker. “You guys will do more formal stuff when you're actually at the training camp but, y’know, it’s good to get a sense for the ice before you get started.”

“You’re so right,” said Kristen. “Did you, uh, so did you used to play, or…?”

“Just minor league stuff,” said Tracker. She hesitated for a moment before she added, “Helio junior league, like a million years ago. Not really worth mentioning.”

“Oh, hey, I play-” Kristen’s throat felt tight and she squeezed her hockey stick for a second to steady herself. “I played for Helio.”

“Yeah, I know,” said Tracker.

“Right. Right, yeah, obviously,” said Kristen.

Tracker had them skate around the cones, take turns shooting at the goal, doing some practice passes. She extremely diplomatically had Riz go get some extra pucks while she got Adaine and Kristen to do a couple of practice checks.

“They must still be worried about his shoulder,” murmured Adaine, as she helped pull Kristen to her feet.

Kristen nodded, feeling the ache in her own shoulder - nothing major, a bruise maybe. “You hit harder than I thought you would.”

The smile Adaine gave her was a little shy. “Thanks. I- I mean, I was looking over the Owlbears tapes after I signed on, and it kind of seemed like they could use a better offence.”

“I’ll tell Jawbone to take that under consideration,” said Tracker.

Adaine froze. “Um.”

Tracker laughed. “Hey, it’s okay. I mean, he’s been fighting to get new blood into the team for years for kind of that exact reason.”

“Got the pucks!” said Riz.

“Great!” said Tracker, turning to grin at him. “More shooting practice!”

That actually seemed to relax Riz slightly, some of the earlier tension leaving his shoulders as they lined up to take shots. Kristen watched Adaine and Riz out of the corner of her eye. Adaine was good - not as good as she apparently was at slamming people into the sides of the rink, but her shots were precise and even, the kind of solid that came from practising at something every day. Riz’s were a little more wild, hitting a different section of the net every time. He switched hands at one point, which made Tracker laugh, so Kristen did that too, her own shots absolutely missing the net. Tracker clapped Kristen on the shoulder, grinning at her.

“Maybe stick your dominant hand,” said Tracker.

“Or maybe I just need more practice with it,” said Kristen.

“I can maybe be convinced to give private lessons,” said Tracker, with a smile that made heat shoot through the pit of Kristen's stomach.

Kristen felt her palms immediately begin to sweat under her gloves. “Uh. Oh, hey look, the rest of the team are here!”

It was more like three guys than the actual rest of the team, but Tracker did look over, letting Kristen take in a breath of air before she passed out. One of them, a tall guy with floppy hair, waved to them, and Riz waved back.

Tracker shot him a look. “You know one of the new guys?”

“Sort of,” said Riz, “I mean, we talked before the press conference thing, so, we’re cool. Plus it’s always good luck to get the goalie on your side, that’s what my dad used to say.”

He turned, skating back towards the goal and making loops around the cones they’d set up. Adaine watched him go, a frown growing across her face.

“Sup Tracker,” said one of the other guys, “Jawbone around?”

“He’s in a meeting,” said Tracker, “But he’ll be down by the time the other guys get here.”

“Cool.” He looked behind Tracker, his eyes skipping over Riz to land on Adaine and Kristen. “Hey, I’m Ragh, one of your defence guys, but I’m just as good at offence. I can hit whatever way you need.”

The corner of Tracker’s mouth twitched.

Ragh narrowed his eyes. “What?”

“Nothing,” said Tracker. “You guys can get changed if you want to warm up before Jawbone gets back. You two are new, right?”

Ragh glanced behind him, shrugging.

The tall guy shook his hair back from his face. “Uh, yeah, hi, um, I’m goalie. I mean, I’m Gorgug, I’m the goalie?”

“And I am Fabian Aramais Seascaster, although obviously you already know who I am.”

Kristen looked at him. “I mean, sure, I’ll take your word for it.”

Fabian looked offended. “I was the highest goal scorer in the junior league last year, but if you somehow did not hear about that , perhaps you’ve heard of my father, captain Bill Seacaster?”

Adaine snorted.

“Hey, that’s great that your dad was captain,” said Kristen, attempting to cover the sound. “On the, uh-" She spotted a curling anchor keychain swinging from his backpack, and hoped it didn’t sound too much like she was guessing. "On the Leviathan team, right?”

From Fabian’s expression she didn’tt quite succeed. “Yes, on the Leviathan team. But the Owlbears are… fine.”

“Great to have your enthusiasm, Seacaster,” said Tracker dryly. “You getting on the ice before the bus, or are you waiting until you get to camp?”

“I suppose I’ll do a little warming up now, though obviously an athlete of my calibre barely needs to,” said Fabian, heading in the direction of the locker room.

“I’ll hit the ice,” said Ragh, clapping a hand on Gorgug’s shoulder. “No reason not to, right bro?”

“Uh, sure,” said Gorgug.

Tracker watched them go, pausing before she turned back towards Riz. Kristen followed her gaze, watching as Riz darted between the cones, a blur of movement.

“Wow,” said Kristen.

“Yeah,” said Tracker, huffing a laugh. “That’s why they call him The Puck.”

She and Adaine followed Riz’s lead, skating in loops in-between the cones. Adaine kept glancing down at her skates, giving the cones a wide berth like she was afraid to bump into them. Kristen didn’t say anything - it was the coach’s place to notice stuff like that, after all. She glanced up to see if Tracker had noticed, only to find Tracker’s eyes on her. Kristen’s stomach jolted, her skates slipping a little on the ice. Adaine and Riz were next to her in an instant, both of them putting a hand on her side to steady her.

“Whoa, hey, I’m fine,” said Kristen. “Just- guess it’s good that we’re testing out the ice before camp right?”

“Right,” said Adaine. She paused, lowering her voice. “I- Sometimes a coach being here makes me a little nervous too, so it’s-”

“Nervous? Who’s nervous?” said Kristen, attempting the laugh. “Not me, I’m totally chill here- haha, get it, chill, and we’re on the ice…”

“Right,” said Adaine, her expression shuttering as she pulled back.

“Who’s ready to run some drills?” yelled Ragh. “Hoot! Growl! Hoot! Growl!”

“It’s just a warm up Ragh,” said Tracker.

“Hey, you warm up your way and I’ll warm up mine,” said Ragh.

Despite his words, he did end up warming up the way Tracker directed, apart from one moment towards the end when Tracker got called away to meet up with Jawbone, leaving them to their own devices.

“So how are you guys at checking?” said Ragh. “I hope you’re not gonna wimp out of me like The Puck does.”

Riz’s shoulders, which had been hunching tighter the longer their warm up went on, pulled even tighter.

“I don’t think it counts as wimping out if a medical professional tells you that you can’t play,” said Adaine. 

“Whatever,” said Ragh. “ Dayne would have played through it.”

Riz muttered something under his breath.

Ragh’s eyes flashed. “What did you just say?”

Riz’s hand flexed on his hockey stick. “Nothing.”

“That’s what I fucking thought,” said Ragh. “ Wimp .”

He pushed off on his skates, heading towards the goal and then changing direction at the last second, heading towards Riz. Moving on instinct, Kristen pushed forward, getting in front of Riz in time to absorb the blow and push Ragh back.

“Hey! What the fuck Applebees!” said Ragh.

“I’m defence too,” said Kristen.

Ragh glared at her. “Whatever. I’m going to get a drink before Jawbone gets down here.”

“You didn’t have to do that,” said Riz quietly, as Ragh stomped his way off the ice.

“I’m defence,” said Kristen again. She paused. “Besides, he doesn’t hit anywhere near as hard as Adaine. It’s a good thing she doesn’t have it out for you, or you’d get pretty… injured… oh.”

Riz’s eyes widened. “Uh-”

“Holy shit,” said Kristen.

“It’s not- I mean, yeah, it is kind of, I mean, it’s- He hasn’t been as bad since they traded Dayne,” said Riz.

“Riz…” said Adaine.

Riz’s shoulders slumped. “How did you even know?”

“Personal experience,” said Adaine.

“In the junior leagues?” said Kristen.

“In my family,” said Adaine, her expression twisting. “You should- Did you tell Jawbone?”

“I can’t,” said Riz. “What if he- Ragh’s a good player, the team needs him, and I don’t- My dad played for the Owlbears. I don’t want to have to change teams, I- you guys won’t say anything, right?”

“We really should,” said Kristen. “I mean, Tracker seems cool, she’d probably help, right?”

“ Please don’t say anything,” said Riz.

Adaine took a breath in, letting it out slowly. “Fine. But if he starts shit with you, then I’m- I’m going to start shit with him.”

“Please don’t,” said Riz.

“I’ll help you,” said Kristen.

“ Please don’t,” said Riz.

“Nope, too bad,” said Kristen, putting an arm around Riz’s shoulder. “I’m defence, that means against any attack anywhere, and if that includes idiots on our own team then so be it!”

“Me too,” said Adaine, “I mean, I’ve mostly been a forward, but I- I’m pretty good at defence.”

“I’ll say,” said Kristen, rubbing the shoulder Adaine had checked her in earlier, more for show than anything else. Adaine huffed a laugh. Kristen looked back down at Riz. “So- We’ve got your back.”

Riz managed a wobbly smile. “That’s- thanks.” He swallowed, pressing his lips together for a moment. “He really has been better since Dayne got transferred. I mean, he’s been in kind of a worse mood, but a lot of the time he was just showing off more than he was actually coming after me.”

“If this is better then I’m glad I didn’t have to see worse,” said Adaine.

Kristen thought about the injury reports on Riz she half remembered, the speculation of early retirement that hung over a player with repeat injuries like a cloud. She squeezed Riz’s shoulder, being careful to be gentle about it, before she let go.

“Come on,” said Kristen. “I want to try some more shots before they get a goalie in there.”

----

Someone was banging on Fig’s door. Fig ignored it, pushing her packed bags underneath her bed and shooting a glare at the door.

“Fig!” said Sandra Lynn, her voice muffled by the door. “Your taxi’s here, come on!”

“Who cares,” said Fig.

“Figueroth!” said Sandra Lynn.

Fig ignored the twisting mom’s mad at me feeling in the pit of her stomach, trying to focus on her anger.

“Who cares!” said Fig again, louder this time. “They won’t let me change my number so I don’t want to play for them any more! They don’t respect me-”

“Fig, honey, come on,” said Sandra Lynn. “You asked them for that number.”

“That’s when I thought it was a good one,” said Fig. “Not one worn by a liar .”

Sandra Lynn’s sigh was audible through the door. “Fig… Look, the taxi is charging you for being out the front. I’m giving you five more minutes and then I’m sending him on his way with or without you there.”

Fig leant her back against the door, folding her arm across her chest. “You’re just worried your new boyfriend is going to be upset that I’m late for training camp.”

“No, I’m worried that my daughter is going to be stuck paying for a taxi she didn’t even use,” said Sandra Lynn. “Look, if you don’t want to taxi, I can have your dad drive you-”

“Which one?” said Fig. “The real one you lied to me about, or the fake one that you lied to me about?”

Sandra Lynn sighed again, pausing a moment before she answered. “Look, it’s- Five minutes Fig, and then you either get a ride with Gilear or you miss training camp.”

Fig heard her mother head downstairs. She glared at the poster on the wall opposite her, some generic logo for the Rangers, her mother’s signature in the corner. She moved her gaze to her bags under the bed. Inside them, somewhere, was her stupid uniform with her stupid number forty-three on it. Stupid rules, not allowing you to change your number without a good reason, as though ‘the woman I took the number to honour turned out to be a life-ruining liar’ wasn’t a good enough reason. Thank god she hadn’t gotten drafted by the Rangers, that would have been even more unbearable than being on the Owlbears. Not that she was looking forward to it. Jawbone was an alright guy, but she didn’t trust anyone who had the poor judgement to date her mother.

Or to draft Fig Faeth , whispered a small voice at the back of her mind.

She’d been a good pick, her first year. A good, solid, promising player for Bastion City. And then- That stupid, gossipy article. Someone digging around on a slow news day, looking too closely at how the Rangers and Devil’s schedules had lined up twenty years ago. Someone having enough connections to ask Gilear, who hadn’t known enough at the time not to confirm he’d been out of town for a stretch of time where he really should have been in town.

Gilear’s face, made even paler by the camera’s flash, as some reporter asked him to confirm or deny. He hadn’t denied.

Fig shook herself, pushing off the door to pull her bags out. Might as well get this over with. This time, she wouldn’t get so distracted by seeing her parent’s stupid faces, and she wouldn’t read any stupid news coverage. She’d focus, prove that Bastion had been wrong to drop her, that her parents had been wrong not to trust her with the truth. She could handle it. She was handling it. Obviously.

She crept downstairs, leaving as quickly as possible to avoid any goodbyes Sandra Lynn was trying to give her before she got in the taxi. Gilear’s car was pulling up as she stepped out of the door. He opened his mouth and Fig held up a hand, holding her bags in between them.

“Save it, Gilear!” said Fig. “And don’t report on me!”

Gilear’s shoulders slumped. Fig ignored the twisting feeling in her stomach as she slid into the back of the taxi, her bags crowded beside her, slouching down in her seat to give herself cover as the taxi pulled away. There weren’t any reporters that followed her around any more, at least, not this early in the preseason, but it was kind of a habit at this point. It didn’t really do anything to ease the squirming feeling in the pit of her stomach.

She felt her phone vibrate in her pocket and she ignored it, fixing her eyes on the back of the seat in front of her. Apart from a brief flash of a hallway meet-and-greet on their way in and out of interviews, she hadn’t met any of the other players, and now she’d be stuck at a camp with them. They’d all know her though. Even if you were the kind of player that ignored the press, the coverage of her exit from Bastion had been kind of inescapable.

She didn’t feel any better when she arrived at the stadium, the bus full and obviously waiting for her. Jawbone stood out the front, waving cheerfully as always as she approached.

“Fig, hey, good to see you, ready to go?”

“I guess,” said Fig.

Jawbone frowned. “Something wrong?”

“No,” said Fig.

“Hey, kiddo, I’m your coach,” said Jawbone, “if something’s bothering you-”

“You’re also dating my mom,” said Fig, “So I can’t exactly talk to you about her- or, y’know, whatever is bothering me. Not that anything is, I’m fine, I’m ready to go.”

Jawbone paused, glancing back over his shoulder at the bus for a moment before he looked back at Fig. “Look, Fig- Even if you don’t feel like you can talk to me, you should talk to someone. Your teammates, or I can give you a list of councillors-”

“I don’t need one,” said Fig. “Are we going or what?”

She brushed past him, pushing her bags into the luggage compartment. She could feel Jawbone watching her and she slammed the compartment shut, not looking back at him as she stomped her way up the bus steps. There weren’t many seats left - one next to Ragh at the front, but she’d heard enough about that guy already during her brief stint in Bastion City to want to avoid him, and one towards the back, next to one of the other new players. The goalie, Gorgug. He seemed okay, or, okay enough to sit next to for the next couple of hours. He had headphones on, which also felt like a good sign. If he didn’t want to make conversation, at least she could pretend it was because this guy had options instead of that he’d already made up his mind about her.

Gorgug looked up at her as she slid into the seat next to her, shuffling over a little to give her room. He pulled his headphones off, letting them rest around his neck. Fig could hear the faint, tinny sound of the music over the sound of the bus’ engine.

“Hey,” said Gorgug, “you’re uh. Fig, right?”

Fig’s stomach sank. “Yeah, I guess you, uh, must have heard of me, huh?”

Gorgug looked a little sheepish. “Yeah, I mean, I’m still kind of trying to remember everyone’s name.”

“What?” said Fig.

“With, y’know, being new to the team and everything,” said Gorgug. “You’re new too, right?”

“Yeah, I’m- Sorry, you know me from being new to the team?”

“Oh no,” said Gorgug, “This isn’t like- you don’t have like, a super-famous dad I’m supposed to know about, do you? Fabian already got kind of mad at me, but it’s like, my parents weren’t super into ice hockey, so I don’t really-”

“No, that’s cool,” said Fig quickly, “I don’t- you don’t need to know who my parents are. We’re cool. I, uh. Just thought maybe you’d heard about me being on another team last year.”

“I… maybe?” said Gorgug, in a tone that hinted that he extremely didn’t.

Fig felt some of the tension relax from between her shoulder blades. She laughed, bouncing in her seat as the bus took off.

“It’s cool if you haven’t dude,” said Fig. “What matters right now is that we’re on the same team. You’re the goalie, right?”

“Yeah, that’s me,” said Gorgug.

He tucked his hair behind his ear, his hand bumping his enormous headphones.

“What are you listening to?” asked Fig.

“Just some smash metal,” said Gorgug. He paused. “Do you, uh…”

He took the headphones off, holding them out to her. Fig grinned, sliding them on. The sound of screaming filled her ears, the words barely audible over the drum and guitar, which sounded more like they were fighting for audio dominance than music.

“Cool!” said Fig.

Gorgug grinned. He said something, but she couldn’t hear him over the sound of the music. She pulled the headphones off one of her ears.

“I said, uh, I have a headphone splitter if you want to share,” said Gorgug.

“I definitely do,” said Fig. “Let’s see what else you got on here, man!”

“Uh, y’know,” said Gorgug, “some screamo, emo, punk, some pop punk, metal, rage metal, death metal, scream metal, mad metal, hate metal…”

The bus ride turned out pretty well after that. She and Gorgug shared music back and forth, switching out the headphone splitter between their phones every couple of songs. It helped that he definitely didn’t know who she was outside of the Owlbears. He didn’t know much about any of the league drama at all, which was as refreshing as it was weird.

“I dunno, I guess- I mean, I was in the junior league before this, obviously, but I didn’t really…. The team I was in, they kind of only wanted to hang out with you if they already knew you, like if your parents played.”

“Neither of your parents played?” said Fig.

Gorgug shook his head. “They’re both mechanics. I kind of got into ice hockey by accident - I was supposed to go to this band try out thing, but I got lost and ended up in this ice hockey training thing instead, and I didn’t want to say anything, and it seemed like people expected me to be there and then it was like, hey, this is fun, y’know? So I told my parents and they figured out a way for me to be in the class for real, and I kept being good at it, so I kept doing it, I guess.” He paused. “Uh, do you- Are your parents, like, players? Do they play hockey, I mean?”

“Just my mom,” said Fig, “But she, uh. She retired when she had me. My-” She took a breath, bracing herself. “My biological dad was too, but I don’t, uh. I think he's still plays, I kind of just- I only found out about him recently, so, uh. Yeah.”

Gorgug nodded. “I- I mean, I’m adopted so I guess I- I’ve never met my biological parents. I guess maybe they could be hockey people, but I, uh. I don’t know.”

He looked away, and Fig’s throat felt tight. “Uh. Hey, that’s cool man. I mean. That sucks, but it's okay. I get it.”

Gorgug shrugged. “I mean, my adoptive parents have always been… They were so excited when I got drafted, like, totally over the moon, they set off fireworks and everything.”

Fig laughed.

“No, really!” said Gorgug, his expression brightening. “They had some left over from this thing they built, and they thought it was the best thing to use them for, so just like, at 3pm on Saturday just-”

He made explosion noises, gesturing. Fig laughed and Gorgug grinned back at her.

“Hey, so, after we get there Jawbone said we had, like, the first half of the day to like, chill,” said Gorgug, “So me and Riz were going to check out the rink and stuff, did you want to come? I think a couple of the other new guys are coming too.”

“Riz? Oh, The Puck,” said Fig.

“Yeah, him,” said Gorgug, “but I, uh. I kind of get the feeling he doesn’t love the nickname.”

Fig frowned. “But that’s like, all the other guys call him.”

“Yeah,” said Gogrug, “I think that’s… why he doesn’t like it. Because of, uh. How he feels about the other guys. Or how they feel about him, I guess.”

“Huh,” said Fig. She paused. “Do you like him?”

“Sure,” said Gorgug, “He seems cool. I kind of got lost in the carpark when I first got to the Aguefort arena, like before the press conference? And he helped me like, get there on time and was super cool about the whole thing.”

“Alright, if you say he’s cool, then I say he’s cool,” said Fig.

Gorgug’s grin grew wider. “Cool.”

The bus jerked to a stop. Fig peered out the window - the training grounds were surrounded by dense trees, a cluster of tiny cabins near a larger, more insulated-looking structure, and behind that, just visible, a field.

“Alright gang!” said Jawbone. “You’ve all got your assigned cabins, now I know the space is a little small and it’s two to a room, but you won’t be doing much in there besides changing and sleeping so it shouldn’t be a problem for you guys. We’ve got a couple hours for you guys to settle in, then we’ll round you all up for lunch, and then we’re heading out onto the field for a couple of team building exercises-” He raised a hand at the loud groan from Ragh at the front. “Now I know some of you aren’t fans of that approach and I get that, and when you’re the coach of a team you can feel free to leave that kind of thing off the menu.” He clapped his hands together. “Right, so, after that, dinner, and then you guys have a couple of free hours until I’d advise lights out, because tomorrow we start training. You guys ready?”

A few mumbling answers from the middle of the bus. 

“I said, are you guys ready?!”

Slightly louder mumbling.

“Well, alright!” said Jawbone, his enthusiasm undamped by the response,. “Let’s head out!”

Fig stood up, waiting for the people ahead of them to file out. “Who are you rooming with?”

“Hargis,” said Gorgug. “He’s back-up goalie, so I guess that makes sense. Who are you with?”

“Adaine,” said Fig. She paused. “I, uh. We were on the same junior league team for like, half a season, so… I guess that makes sense too?”

“She seems cool,” said Gorgug. “Kristen said she checks like a train at full speed.”

Fig glanced back. Adaine was still seated in the back row, talking to Riz. Neither of them seemed like they were in a hurry to get off the bus. She also didn’t seem like someone who would hit that hard, but then again, Fig had heard about her sister. Maybe being a goon ran in the family.

Maybe that was why Jawbone had paired them together, shuffling the baggage into the one cabin. Reputations.

She scowled at the floor. Who knew why he did anything , he was dating her mom. His judgement could not be trusted.

She waved goodbye to Gorgug as they headed to their separate cabins. Jawbone hadn’t been exaggerating about the size, there wasn’t much room in the cabins for more than two beds, a little table, and a single wardrobe. She dropped her bags on the right-hand bed, flopping down next to them and lying back to look up at the ceiling. 

Her phone vibrated in her pocket, and she tapped her fingers on her pockets before she pulled it out, frowning at the missed notifications. Sandra Lynn, Gilear, Gilear, Gilear, a message from Sandra Lynn, message from an unknown number, voicemail from unknown number…

Fig pressed her lips together, letting out a long breath through her nose before she checked her voicemail.

Uh, hey, said an unfamiliar voice, This is, uh. This is Gorthalax, I’m- I guess I’m kind of your dad? I mean, I am your dad, but I…” He sighed. “Your mom and I… I’m guessing you know the short version, and there’s not much more than that, I was locked into my contract with the Devils, always moving around, you know, in and out of the country, and you- you needed something more stable than that, you deserved something more stable than that, and you know, your mom was right, she and Gilear, they did a bang up job with you-”

The door opened - Adaine, wheeling a little suitcase after her. Fig quickly wiped her eyes.

“Sorry,” whispered Adaine, quickly looking away.

“-I sent you a message with my number and just- if you ever want to talk or… or anything, I mean, I’d love to- I’d love to meet you, but I, uh- puck’s totally on your side of the net, like they say. I, uh- Uh oh, I think this thing’s gonna cut me off-” There was a shrill beep, the automated voicemail tone coming through. “Message complete. To save this message and go on, press two. To delete, press three. To return this call, press four. To return to the main menu, press hash. ”

“Sorry,” said Adaine again.

“It’s fine,” said Fig. “It’s- family bullshit, you know?”

Adaine wrinkled her nose. “Yeah, I get that.”

She turned away, unzipping her suitcase and carefully removing each individually packaged item. Fig wiped her eyes again, holding her phone above her face, looking at the illuminated keypad. Carefully, slowly, she pressed the two and then hung up, letting the phone drop on the bed next to her.

“Do you… want to talk about it?” said Adaine hesitantly.

“I feel like that’s all I’ve been doing for a freaking year,” said Fig. “I don’t even want to think about it. Do you ever get that?”

Adaine laughed. “Yes.” She paused. “I… don’t know if you remember this, but we were… We were on the same team for a little while, back in the junior league.”

“Ashgrove Archers,” said Fig. “Yeah, I remember.” She pushed herself up on her elbows, studying Adaine for a moment. “You had longer hair back then.”

“Yes,” said Adaine. “I thought it would help me to play better if I looked more like- It doesn’t matter. Childish, to believe something like that.”

There was a knock at the door. Adaine glanced at Fig before she went to answer it.

“It’s probably Gorgug,” said Fig.

It was Gorgug, accompanied by Riz, their close proximately exaggerating their height difference to the point that Fig almost laughed.

“Hey,” said Gorgug, smiling. “We’re gonna go do a practice skate before lunch, do you guys want to come?”

“Is that allowed?” said Adaine.

Riz shrugged. “It’s not not allowed. I’ve done it pretty much every year we’ve come here.”

Adaine gave Fig a look. Fig shrugged. She kind of wanted to do anything apart from obsessing over her voicemail right now, and it would be good not to start the training camp feeling like she was surrounded by total strangers.

"Sure, why not," said Fig. "We could do two on two?"

"Dibs on Riz!" said Adaine.

Gorgug's shoulders tilted down a little.

"That works for me," said Fig. "I was going to call dibs on Gorgug anyway."

They headed over to the arena, following Riz through a fire exit.

"The catering people leave this one open for smoke breaks when they’re setting up," said Riz. "So you can pretty much always get in here."

"You're kind of a little detective guy, huh," said Fig.

"I guess," said Riz. He paused. "I uh. Thought about becoming a reporter for a while, after I busted my shoulder a couple years ago. Your dad was going to give me an internship thing."

"My dad?" said Fig faintly.

Riz frowned. "Yeah, you're Gilear's daughter, right?"

“I-” Fig's stomach twisted. "I want to use the bathroom before we get on the ice."

Riz pointed down the hall and Fig tried her best not to look like she was rushing, slamming the stall door shut behind her and sliding to the ground. They were in the middle of freaking nowhere and she still couldn’t get away from her liar parents. Who did Gilear think he was anyway, offering some hockey player an internship, just because- Well he had offered her one, a couple times, but she'd wanted to play not just talk about who was playing, she'd wanted to be cool like her mum was cool-

Fig put her face in her hands. It was all just going to happen again . It was all going to fall apart again and they weren’t going to let her back in this time-

There was the sound of the bathroom door opening, closing gently as someone else came in. Fig held her breath.

"Fig?" said Adaine.

"Hey," said Fig. "I'll, uh. I'll be out in a second, okay?"

"I can wait," said Adaine.

There was a shuffling sound, and Fig saw Adaine’s knees at the edge of the door where she was sitting down just outside. Fig let out a long breath.

"I'm quite good at waiting, I think," added Adaine. "I was in the junior league for a very long time, comparatively."

Fig swallowed, not wanting to speak until she could hold her voice steady. 

"That's probably good though, right?" said Fig. "I mean, you have a lot of experience." She paused. "I remember you being pretty good?"

"It's okay if you don't actually remember me," said Adaine. "I don't think many people do. Comes with having a famous hockey star as a sister. And famous ex-player parents too, I suppose."

Fig took a steadying breath in and let it out slowly. She did remember Adaine. Not well - the whole half-season she was there for was kind of a blur of rising expectations and fame blotted out by the news cycle that destroyed her focus on her hockey career, but she did remember her. Adaine Abernant, the 49 large on her oversized Alycon jersey, her long blonde hair swept up into a ponytail and a fixed look of stern concentration on her face. Fig remembered her as being especially quiet in the rowdiness of the locker room, tucked away in the corner, the first one on the ice at practice and the last one off. They hadn’t really gotten to know each other, but Fig hadn’t really gotten to know anybody, too caught up in finally being able to play . So caught up that when things fell apart, there wasn’t anyone around to push for her to be kept on the ice, or on the team.

“I do remember you,” said Fig. “I really- I didn’t know what I was doing and you always seemed like you did.”

There was a pause, and then Adaine's hand appeared under the door. Fig hesitated for a moment before she took it. Adaine squeezed her hand.

“I didn’t actually know what I was doing. I still don’t,” said Adaine. “I kind of can’t believe they let me in here, to be honest. Hudol made it very clear in the draft that they would rather go without a pick at all that choose me. When Jawbone called me I thought he’d called the wrong number.”

Adaine’s voice was light, but her tone was careful enough that Fig could feel the weight of the emotion behind them. Fig squeezed her hand back.

“I… I think he maybe only offered me a spot because he’s dating my mom,” said Fig.

The news coverage of her draft had certainly intimated as much, all sly comments and winking references, as though Fig would ever have asked a favour like that from her mother. Fig’s stomach twisted. They’d barely spoken to one another since the story had broken, despite living in the same house. Fig had spent as much time out of the house as possible, hiding in the back of grimy music venues and the kind of bars where no one even mentioned ice hockey.

“I don’t think Jawbone would do that,” said Adaine.

“You’d be the only one then,” said Fig.

“No, I mean- He’d be stupid not to pick you in the draft anyway,” said Adaine. “I’ve seen your stats.” She paused, squeezing Fig’s hand again. “You’ve got real talent, you know.”

“So do you,” said Fig. “Gorgug said that Kristen said you’re going to be one hell of a defence for the team this year, and she would know. I mean, she’s been in the league for a long time.”

“I heard about you too,” said Adaine. “Riz said he’d be surprised if you didn’t overtake Ragh’s record on goal this year.”

“He’s never even seen me play,” muttered Fig.

“He said he had,” said Adaine. “I think he’s friends with-” She paused. “I think he must have gone to some of your games.”

Fig reached up, leaning back to open the stall door.

“With my- He went with Gilear you mean,” said Fig.

Adaine pressed her lips together, the hand not holding Fig’s twitching on her knee. Fig let go of her hand.

“It’s so weird that he knows Gilear,” said Fig. “It’s like- was Gilear just waiting for me to fuck up so he found some other kid as backup?”

Adaine opened her mouth and then shut it again.

“What?” said Fig.

“It’s- He told me-” Adaine pressed her lips together. “It’s a personal story, I think. You should ask him, but- It’s not like that.” She paused again. “I don’t know Gilear, obviously, but it sounds like he’s a pretty dedicated Fig Faeth fan.”

“Yeah, well,” said Fig. “Not big enough to stick around, I guess.”

There was a tentative knock at the door, and they both looked towards it.

“Hey, uh, guys?” said Gorgug, his voice slightly muffled. “Did you still want to play?”

Adaine looked at Fig. Fig wrinkled her nose.

“I mean, I guess it is why we’re here,” said Adaine.

She stood, offering Fig a hand up. After a pause, Fig took it.

“We’re coming,” said Adaine. “See you in a sec, okay?”

“Okay,” said Gorgug. “See you on the ice?”

“We’ll be there,” said Fig. She steeled herself, turning back to Adaine. “Hey, listen about…” She waved a hand. “Can you not…. I don’t want people to think I’m some, like, drama queen-”

“I won’t tell anyone,” said Adaine. She paused. “I think being the drama queen is going to be Ragh’s job this season anyway.”

“What?”

“You didn’t hear?” said Adaine. “He was- He was close, you know, with one of the guys who got traded.”

“Yeah, I guess that’s always rough,” said Fig, pushing open the bathroom door.

“No, I mean-” Adaine cut herself off, her eyes going to someone behind Fig.

Fig turned to see Jawbone heading towards them up the hall. He didn’t look annoyed at them for having snuck in, but his face had the open earnestness of someone who wanted to have a discussion .

“Let’s get on the ice,” said Fig quickly.

“Fig, there you are!” said Jawbone quickly. “You go a minute kiddo?”

“No,” said Fig. “We were going to skate.”

“You’ll have plenty of time for skating while we’re here, I can guarantee you that!” said Jawbone. “It’s kind of important.”

Adaine squeezed her hand and then let go. “We’ll wait for you to start.”

Fig huffed, waiting until Adaine had rounded the corner before she spoke. “What?”

Jawbone held up his hands. “Now far be it for me to criticise someone's attitude, and lord knows I had a hell of it when I was your age, but-”

“I don’t have an attitude ,” said Fig, crossing her arms over her chest. “I just want to get on the ice.”

“And I’m glad you do-”

“Are you?” said Fig.

Jawbone blinked. “Of course I am. You’ve got real talent, that’s why Aguefort wanted to draft you, a decision I wholeheartedly agree with.”

Fig felt her face go hot. "Just because you’re dating my mom-"

“I’m not saying this as your mom’s partner, I'm saying this as your coach." Jawbone paused. "You got a lot of potential and talent, and I’d hate to see it go to waste just because of a couple of hard knocks.”

Fig swallowed, squeezing her arms around herself.

“There’s plenty of guys in the league who’ll tell you to take whatever anger you’ve got and focus on it, to bring it out onto the ice. Hell, I used to be one of those guys, and I’ll be the first to say that I don’t think it made me a better player than someone who went out there just wanting to help their team win. In fact I’d go so far as to say the only thing it made me better at was being miserable.” Jawbone paused. “Now, I meant what I said before, you don’t have to talk to me, but you should talk to somebody .” He put a hand on her shoulder. “You got a lot of people who care about you kid. Don’t shut us all out.”

Fig swallowed, giving him a short nod to buy herself some time to get herself under control a little. “I-” She paused, searching for something to say. “Thanks for pairing me with Adaine, in the cabins. She seems- She’s cool.”

Jawbone smiled, squeezing her shoulder before he let go. “Yeah, she’s a good kid and a good player. I thought you two might get along.”

“Yeah, we’re- I’m going to go play a practice game with her and some guys,” said Fig. “Gorgug and- Riz.”

Jawbone nodded. “A great mix of players!” He smiled. “Go on, get out there and- think about what I said, okay?”

Fig nodded back, heading to the rink. Someone had got her skates out and left them neatly by a bench near the rink gate and Fig moved towards them. The other three were already on the ice. Adaine waved as she caught sight of her, skating over to lean against the side of the rink, Gorgug and Riz following after her.

“Hey,” said Adaine. “Everything okay?”

Fig shrugged. “I- Yeah. I’ll-” She paused. “I’ll tell you about it later? For now I kind of just want to get on the ice.”

“You still okay with the teams?” said Riz. “Me and Adaine vs you and Gorgug?”

“Hell yeah,” said Fig, pushing herself up from the bench. “Let’s skate!”

----

Fabian woke up early, just before sunrise. It was a habit drilled into him by his father, part of the training regime that Bill Seacaaster had practised every single day of his life, both professionally and since his retirement. Fabian stretched out in the bed, watching the pale glow of sunrise that he could see in the sliver of the window that the blinds didn't quite cover. Perhaps he’d sneak out early, get a little practice done before the others were up and about. It was the first day of training proper, without the distraction of the team building exercises Jawbone had insisted they take part in. It was important for his teammates to be aware that he might have, until now, been sequestered to the junior leagues, but that he was just as dedicated to the sport as they were. More, even, since he would be up before them.

There was the muffled sound of talking outside his tiny cabin and the door clicked open. Fabian frowned, turning his head to squint at the outline of the person in the doorway. They were short, their hair a little wild and sweat-slicked, the sweatsuit they were wearing oddly faded in places.

“See you in a sec,” said Gorgug’s voice from outside. “Meet you by the- Uh. Do you remember where the showers are?”

There was a laugh from the figure, solidifying their identity in Fabian’s mind. Riz Gukgak, The Puck, a player almost as unlucky with injuries as Fabian’s father had been, though Riz had somehow managed to avoid early retirement thus far.

“‘I’ll meet you by your cabin,” said Riz. “It’s easier than giving directions.”

“Definitely,” said Gorgug, sounding relieved. “I’ll grab my stuff and meet you there.”

“Hello?” said Fabian.

“Oh, uh, sorry,” said Riz. “I’m just grabbing my, uh, some clothes? I’ll be a second, you don’t need to get up.”

“Why are you up?” said Fabian, his words coming out a little harsher than he meant them to.

“Just went for a jog,” said Riz. He made a face, turning away to dig around in his bag. “It was Gorgug’s idea.”

“‘I… didn’t think anyone would be awake at this hour,” said Fabian.

Riz shrugged. “I’m kind of an early riser, I guess.” He swung a little duffle bag over one shoulder, his towel draped over the other. “Uh, see you at breakfast?”

“Maybe,” said Fabian.

Riz shrugged again, closing the door behind him as he went. Fabian blinked up at the ceiling. Well. Perhaps that made sense, that there were others who were early risers. Perhaps it was a more widespread phenomenon among hockey players than he had initially thought. He would just simply have to wake earlier tomorrow, to show The Puck that, just because he had been sequestered in the junior leagues thus far, that did not mean he was any less a professional player.

He scrolled through his various social media feeds for a while, checking on the threads of gossip he was half-following. The Maidens were doing some kind of team trip to the beach as a way to build morale, Bastion City were edging around disclosing injury reports which surely meant they had something of significance, and the Leviathans-

Fabian shut off his screen. He didn’t care what the Leviathans were doing. They had chosen not to draft him, and so he would choose not to pay them any attention. He pushed himself out of bed, heading to the makeshift cafeteria.

Most of the team was already there, sitting in easy groups. Fabian’s fingers flexed on his tray, eyeing the tables. Riz was sitting at one of the corner tables, next to a few of the other new drafts from the junior league and Kristen Applebees. Fabian frowned. Well, he supposed that at least made a little sense, two seasoned players might well know one another even if they were on opposite teams. His father certainly had many tales of his various friendships across the league.

Fabian’s eyes fell on Ragh. A strong, solid player, with good offence and a better goal record. The perfect person with whom to strike up a friendship that could bloom into a partnership on the ice.

Ragh, who had been glaring at the wall as he ate, turned to Fabian as he approached. “What?”

Fabian resolved to be undeterred by Ragh’s tone. “Good morning!”

“Yeah, whatever,” said Ragh. “What do you want?”

“To… eat breakfast?”

Ragh glared at him. “So? Why are you coming over here to do that?”

“I-”

“Look Seablaster-”

“It’s Sea caster !”

“Whatever,” said Ragh. “Find somewhere else to eat.”

“Fine, if you’re going to be so childish then I will,” said Fabian.

He made as graceful a turn about the room as he could, hesitating for a moment before he sat at one of the empty tables. That was fine. Once Ragh saw him in action he’d surely ask Fabian to eat with him.

Jawbone stood up, clapping his hands together to get everyone’s attention. “Hey good morning team, and welcome to your first official training day! We’re going to start you guys off easy, so we’ll be finishing up here in about fifteen and then head out for a quick jog, get that blood pumping before we head out onto the ice, what’d’you say?”

Sleepy mumbling came in response.

“Alright!” said Jawbone cheerfully. “The sooner you’re done in here, the sooner you can be on the ice!”

Fabian ate as quickly as possible, both for the draw of the ice and so as to taste as little as possible of the meal. It was perfectly balanced for nutrients, he was sure, but hardly up to Cathilda’s standard.

Just like that morning, Riz was finished and out the door before him. Fabian narrowed his eyes at Riz’s retreating back. He would be the one to best in order to capture Ragh’s attention. Surely Ragh wouldn’t be able to miss Fabian bettering such a long-standing teammate.

The jog was an easy enough one, a short trail around the facility. Fabian caught glimpses of the others through the trees and even, once, heard the sound of Riz’s laughter echoing back to him. He gritted his teeth and sped up his steps.

Despite that, he didn’t see anyone else in the showers. There were signs of the others - puddles of water from the showers and towels strewn about the place. He would enjoy the luxury of the chance at privacy, then, before he went out onto the ice. Fabian let out a sigh as he stepped under the spray. At least the heat and the water pressure were decent.

The sound of raised voices from outside jolted him from his meditation under the water, and Fabian tilted his head out of the spray to hear them better.

“-Just can’t believe you would trade Dayne away like that,” came Ragh’s voice. He sounded more than just angry, the hurt in his voice coming through on the mere mention of the name. “And for him ? The dude’s got no heart out there. How can you replace Dayne for someone like that?”

Fabian frowned. Who were the other new hires? Gorgug, though from what Fabian had seen he seemed to have an abundance of heart. There was Kristen, he supposed, or Adaine. Ragh did seem like the sort to refer to them as dudes .

“Listen, Ragh, it’s not personal like that, it’s not a replacement,” said Jawbone. “Dayne was a great player, but he wanted to move on. He agreed to move on.”

“No,” said Ragh, “He would never have done that. He always said we were teammates for life, man. He would have told me, he would have-”

“Hey,” said Jawbone soothingly, “Hey, it’s okay.”

“Shut up man, no it’s not!” said Ragh, his voice cracking.

“Maybe not right now,” said Jawbone. “But we’re building a good team here-”

“I’m not building anything with him ,” said Ragh. “That- You only brought Fabian on board because you played with his dad back in the day. People with his kind of stats only get this kind of sweetheart deal if their daddy calls it in.”

Fabian went still, putting a hand on the tiled wall to keep himself upright.

“ Ragh -” Jawbone started to say.

“Nah, man, forget it,” said Ragh. “You say I gotta play with him? Fine. But I don’t have to be his friend. Nothing in my contract about that .”

There was the sound of someone stomping away, twigs snapping loudly underfoot. Jawbone sighed, his own retreating footsteps much quieter. Fabian leant forward, resting his forehead against the tiles.

Sweetheart deal.

No heart.

Only here because of his father .

He was made aware of how much time had passed as the water temperature took a dive. He stumbled out to dry off, dressing quickly and hurrying to his cabin, hoping Riz’ streak of earliness would carry over to him heading to the ice before it was time.

Fabian was not in luck, of course. Riz was sitting cross-legged on his bed, tapping out something on his laptop. He had a small pair of glasses perched on his nose, and he adjusted them as Fabian came in, looking up at him.

“Hey,” said Riz, “We have like another half hour before the rink’s set up for drills-” Riz frowned. “You okay?”

“Yes,” said Fabian. “Obviously.”

“Okay,” said Riz slowly.

“I’m fine ,” snapped Fabian. “Can’t I have one moment’s peace in this place?”

Riz’s eyebrows shot up. “Okay.”

“And even if there was something, I don’t want to talk about it,” Fabian added, turning away from Riz.

There was a pause, and then Riz went back to typing. Fabian dropped his towel and his toiletries bag on the bed, quickly picking the towel back up and shaking it out. He looked around, hanging it on the foot of his bed.

No heart.

Only here because his father called in a favour.

Fabian’s stomach twisted. He picked up the towel, opening the little door of their shared closet and draping the towel over it. Riz continued typing, pausing to squint at the screen, readjusting his glasses.

“What are you doing?” asked Fabian.

Riz’s eyes flicked to Fabian before they returned to the screen. “I thought you didn’t want to talk?”

“I said I didn’t want to be interrogated,” said Fabian. “And I was just making conversation . We’ll be on the same team for a year, you know. You might as well get used to the fact that I’m here.”

“I… “ Riz looked up at him. “Do you have a problem with me?”

“No,” said Fabian.

“It kind of seems like you do,” said Riz.

“Oh, and I suppose you have no problem with me,” said Fabian. “I suppose you’re just fine with me coming in here and taking your beloved Dayne’s position on the team.”

Riz made a face. “My beloved- Dude, Dayne and I-” He looked around, then lowered his voice. “I mean, we didn’t exactly… get along. So I’m- Let’s just say I’m not exactly broken up that he’s not here. In fact, I think the only person who is even, like, a little upset is Ragh.”

Fabian flopped down on his bed. “Yes, I’m aware of that, thank you.”

Riz paused, shutting his laptop and setting it aside. “Hey, Fabian, if he-” Riz bit his lip. “He didn’t like, do anything to you, right?”

Fabian lifted himself up onto his elbows, frowning over at Riz. “No, I just…” He let out a long breath. “I overheard him complaining about me to Jawbone.”

Riz’s shoulders relaxed down slightly. “Oh, well. He kind of does that. I wouldn’t take it personally.”

“Don’t take it personally ,” said Fabian. “He said I had no heart .”

“If he said that then it’s definitely not about you,” said Riz.

Fabian frowned. “What?”

Riz opened his mouth and then closed it again. “It’s- He and Dayne were pretty close, or- I mean, it’s probably more accurate to say that he was close to Dayne . I think if Dayne had been close to him he would have negotiated for the Hellions to trade for Ragh as well. I mean, he got his girlfriend traded there and she wasn’t even on the Owlbears.”

“What?”

Riz shook himself. “Anyway, what I mean is, he sucks, and he’s probably going to continue to suck at least until he gets over Dayne, whenever that is.”

“Gets over- ohh ,” said Fabian. “Well that’s… That wasn’t in any report I saw.”

Riz gave him a look. “Why would it be?”

“Oh, you know,” said Fabian. “Gossip sells. Though I suppose one player chastley pining after another is hardly salacious enough to be worth more than a few hundred words.”

Riz’s watch beeped, making Fabian jump. Riz waved a hand. “Training time. And I guess? Plus, I mean, he’s a dick but even he’s not bad enough for me to want to put him through a press cycle like that .”

Frabian frowned. Sure, the sports press establishment could be a little intense at times, but surely that came with the territory. He himself had been doing interviews since he was on his father’s knee, reporters smiling down at him as he announced that he would be the next great Seacaster of hockey just as soon as he was old enough that they let him on the ice. Before he could ask Riz what he’d meant, Riz was pulling on his shoes.

They walked together to the rink, one of the first few to get onto the ice. Riz waved to Adaine, who glided towards them with the kind of effortless grace of a lifetime on the ice.

She made a face at Riz. “First thing after drills is a practice game.”

“It’s fine,” said Riz, waving a hand. “I’m pretty fast.”

“I know,” said Adaine. She opened her mouth and then her eyes flicked to Fabian, and she closed it again.

“Why, exactly, should The Puck not be fast?” asked Fabian. “Isn’t that kind of his thing ?”

Adaine frowned.

“It’s fine,” said Riz. “Seriously, don’t worry about it.”

Fabian didn’t have much of a chance for follow ups - once Jawbone started the drills Fabian’s focus narrowed down to keeping up, making sure his movements were neat and precise and fast . If he wanted to be on track to coming anywhere even close to his father’s scoring record, he’d need to be in that forward line. He tried to picture the proud look on his father’s face, the particular kind of pride that didn’t come just from doing a good job, the kind of expression that only came accross Bill Seacaster’s face when he had been honestly and truly bested.

They only had a few minutes between the drills and the practice game, gulping down water before they split into teams. Fabian was secretly pleased to be on the opposite side to Ragh - now he could truly show him what a Seacaster was made of.

He didn’t have to wait long - as soon as Jawbone blew the whistle to start, Ragh headed towards him, flinging his gloves to the ground. Fabian flexed his gloved hands. His father had been no stranger to on-ice fights - his time in the penalty box for doing so was almost equal to his record-breaking scoring ability - but the Owlbears weren’t a team known for their brutality. Jawbone had spoken out several times against fighting on the ice. Even if Fabian won the fight, which obviously as the son of Bill Seacaster he would , it was unlikely Jawbone would look favourably on his behaviour. Instead of dropping his gloves, Fabian braced himself for the hit.

Kristen rushed into Fabian’s field of vision, slamming into Ragh and knocking him off course. Ragh pushed her off him, the two of them glaring at each other before Jawbone’s whistle pulled them apart.

“You’re here to play,” called Jawbone. “It’s hockey not boxing, now reset, we’re starting it again!”

Ragh muttered something underneath his breath, heading back to his own starting position. Kristen glided over to Fabian.

“I can take a hit, you know,” said Fabian.

“My defensive instincts kicked in, what can I say,” said Kristen. She glanced back at Ragh, leaning a little close to Fabian. “Watch out for that guy.”

“I was ,” said Fabian.

This time when Jawbone blew the whistle Ragh seemed set on ignoring Fabian entirely. Fabian had to hand it to him - despite any childish behaviour Ragh was fast on his skates, neatly scoring against Hargis. He circled the goal, his arms raised in victory. The grin on his face stuttered as his skates slipped on something, Riz almost a blur as he whipped past Ragh. Ragh stuck out his hockey stick as though to trip Riz, but Riz was too fast, zig-zagging out of the way to go back to his own starting position.

It was only because Riz’s starting position was next to Fabian’s that Fabian noticed it - Ragh got the puck to start, heading not towards goal but in Riz’s direction. It was dirty behaviour, the kind most people frowned upon - trying to goad another playing into a fight by checking them, or trying to make it look as if they had checked you , giving you the excuse to start a fight.

If it had been anyone else, perhaps Fabian would have moved aside, fallen into a more textbook defensive position for what power play Ragh might be assumed to attempt, but even in full gear Riz looked tiny in comparison as Ragh sped towards him. Just because Fabian’s own, personal, goal was to be the finest point scorer and forward than the Owlbears had ever seen, that didn’t mean he didn’t have his own defensive skills.

There was also another, smaller, part of him that was still sitting in the cabin with Riz, that had braced for Riz’s judgement earlier and had found none.

Fabian pushed off on his skates, getting as much momentum behind him as possible before he slammed into Ragh, sending them both careening into the side of the rink. The plastic walling shook with the impact, covering Ragh’s sound of surprise.

Out of the corner of his eye, Fabian saw Riz streak off with the puck, heading for goal. He grinned. Not technically an assist, but close enough.

“Get off of me man!” said Ragh.

Fabian slid back, raising his hands. Ragh pushed him, making Fabian stagger back, losing his footing as Ragh pushed him again. He heard the shrill sound of Jawbone’s whistle.

“Barkrock! Take five!”

“What, what did I do?” said Ragh.

“I want to see clean play and that ain’t it,” said Jawbone. “You can take five minutes or you can take five miles around the track, your choice.”

Grumbling, Ragh headed to the penalty box. Kristen slid next to Fabian, offering him a hand up.

“I guess you can take a hit,” said Kristen, grinning down at him.

“Well I told you so,” huffed Fabian.

Kristen laughed, shoving at Fabian’s shoulder. Fabian grinned back at her as they went back to their starting positions.

The rest of the practice game went much smoother. Ragh seemed ready to pounce, but also seemed equally aware of Jawbone’s eyes on him. Fabian understood the feeling - he could feel Riz’s eyes on him during the rest of the game, even when he wasn’t anywhere near the puck. Whenever he looked back at Riz, Riz quickly looked away.

They broke for lunch. Fabian was worn out enough from the practice game that he let himself be led towards a table with Riz, flopping down next to him. Kristen did stretches against the table as she ate, shooting Fig the occasional thankful look as she put a hand on Kristen’s side to steady her.

“What’s next?” said Fig, looking over Adaine’s shoulder at the battered printout.

“Drills,” said Adaine, “and something marked as outdoor extracurriculars .”

“That means jogging,” groaned Riz. He pointed his fork at Gorgug. “I told you we didn’t need to gothis morning.”

Gorgug smiled sheepishly. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine,” said Riz. “At least the weather’s good.”

Thunder cracked overhead.

“Thank you for that,” said Adaine dryly.

Jawbone, ever prepared, cheerfully handed out Owlbears rain ponchos to them all before they headed out. The trees along the track provided some cover, the occasional large raindrop hitting the hood of Fabian’s jacket heavily.

At least , Fabian thought, as they began the third lap of the grounds, that Jawbone himself also took part in this.

It reminded him a little of his father, never one to shy away from anything, always the first in line to show Fabian how to do something by doing it himself, showing Fabian the gold standard for whatever he was trying to accomplish. Admittedly, jogging in the rain was less glamorous and exciting than making trick shots but still. Fabian appreciated the principle of it.

He heard someone coming up behind him, their steps slowing as they got level with him. Fabian glanced to his left, blinking in surprise to see Riz.

“I thought you already passed me,” said Fabian, relieved that he didn’t sound as out of breath as he felt.

“I did,” said Riz. “I thought you might want company. Gorgug’s coming up too, if you slow down a bit.”

Fabian glanced behind him. He could see Gorgug coming around the corner behind them, his breath clouding the air in front of him. Gorgug waved.

“If you want company,” said Riz.

“I- Well. I suppose,” said Fabian. “If you don’t mind slowing down to a more human pace.”

Riz laughed, raindrops flicking from his shoulders. The sound of it settled under Fabian’s skin. It made it surprisingly easy to finish his remaining laps, the three of them almost collapsing into the shower block.

“I am going to sleep well tonight,” said Gorgug. “Not even Hargis’ snoring is going to keep me awake after that.”

“Absolutely,” said Fabian, laughing. “This will certainly be the best sleep of my life .”

Hours later, Fabian rolled onto his side, letting out a sigh. The tiny clock radio on the desk between his and Riz’s bed read 11:28pm . Only a few minutes since he had last looked at the time, then.

Despite the tiredness in his body, sleep refused to come, his mind replaying the events of the day, the practice game coming back to him in fragments. He should have been faster there , he should have taken a shot at goal here . Leftover adrenaline from the day, perhaps. His father hadn’t been very instructive about what he could do to combat that, at least, not in any way that would help him right now. They were far away from the kind of nightclubs and bars that had provided his father relief, and even if they had been closer he doubted that partying all night would help him feel any better tomorrow. He rolled onto back, blinking up at the ceiling.

There was a long exhale from the other bed.

Fabian pressed his lips together. “Riz, are you awake?”

“Unfortunately.” There was a pause, and then a rustling noise before Riz flicked on his phone torch, illuminating his profile in the bed as he sat up. “I can never sleep after the first practice game either.”

“How did you know- I mean, what makes you think that I was thinking of the practice game?”

Riz shrugged. “You’re a good player. Good players think about their play.” He paused. “My dad used to say that.”

“Did he play?”

Riz paused, the outline of his throat moving as he swallowed. “Yeah. For the Owlbears, when I was a kid, he- He got hurt pretty bad. Not a long career.”

Riz had hunched in on himself, wrapping his arms around his knees. His face was too far in shadow for Fabian to read his expression.

“Injuries must run in the family,” said Fabian, aiming for a lighter tone.

“Yeah,” said Riz. His voice sounded hoarse.

“What do you do,” said Fabian, after a moment, “When you can’t sleep?”

“Practice,” said Riz. 

Fabian let out a breath, pushing himself up. “Right.”

“What?”

“If practice helps, let’s go practice,” said Fabian. He swung his legs over the side of the bed, feeling around in the darkness for his shoes. “Come on, The Puck.”

There was a pause. Fabian kept his head down, pretending to be focussed on the process of tying his shoes, relief flooding him as he heard Riz slide off the bed to get his shoes.

The rest of the camp was quiet, the air damp from the earlier rain. Their way to the arena was lit by tiny pools of lights from the occasional lamp that dotted the path. Fabian felt aware of their distance from civilization, from the rest of his life. It was as though he was stranded in the middle of a vast ocean, isolated and alone. Fabian swallowed roughly.

Riz put a hand on Fabian’s arm, nodding at their path forward.

“There’s a back way,” said Riz. He paused, glancing up at Fabian. “Don’t tell anyone, okay?”

Fabian mimed zipping his lips, throwing the imaginary key dramatically over his shoulder. A smile flickered over Riz’s face before he stepped ahead, leading Fabian around the back of the arena. Next to the fire exit was a low window. Riz pushed on it, and Fabian heard a click as it opened.

“The lock warps when it rains,” said Riz. “Come on.”

Fabian wriggled through the window after Riz, blinking as his eyes got used to the darkness. “Isn’t there a security alarm?”

“Nah, not while we’re here,” said Riz. “Jawbone does a sweep through in the morning in case there’s reporters, but they don’t usually come up here unless they think there’s a story that worth getting sued over.”

Riz felt along the wall, flicking on the hallway light switch. Fabian blinked, clearing spots from his eyes. There was in some kind of back office, old filing cabinets along the wall leading to the hallway door.

“We’ll take the back way in,” said Riz. “We’re less likely to wake somebody if we don’t turn on any of the front lights.”

Fabian nodded, following Riz down the hallway. The plain white walls were dotted with old photographs and newspaper clippings of past victories and old players. As they passed by one of them, Riz slowed, touching two fingers to the edge of a frame before he moved further down the hall. Fabian paused at it - it was a yellowing newspaper clipping eulogising a player, a grainy photograph of mourners and a little player headshot in one corner.

Beloved Owlbears player, husband, and father Pok Gukgak-

Fabian jerked back, looking over at Riz. He glanced over the faded print - a celebrated player on the rise, a series of injuries on the ice, a coach who encouraged him to play through the pain for the good of the team, a final game - Fabian’s stomach twisted. He knew the coach's name. Everyone did. Everyone knew that the Harvestmen hadn’t been half as good of a team until Goldenhoard had taken over as coach. Judging by the age of the newspaper clipping, it must have been from a long time ago, perhaps even back when his own father was playing.

It made a certain kind of sense. Despite their recent record of wins, his father had been against Fabian even so much as barracking for the Harvestmen, let alone being drafted by them.

“Come on,” said Riz, his voice echoing off the hallway walls.

“Coming, coming,” said Fabian, hurrying to catch up. He cleared his throat. “So, uh. You said your father was- He played for the Owlbears?”

“Yeah,” said Riz, pushing open the locker room door. 

“I think… I think perhaps I have heard of him,” said Fabian carefully.

Riz’s shoulder stiffened. “As a cautionary tale probably.”

Fabian thought back at the tiny headshot of Pok. He had looked young, not much older than he and Riz were now. Fabian pressed his lips together. He might not understand the loss, but he remembered when his father had gotten the last injury to his knee, the one that had taken him off the ice for good.

The trips to the hospital. The horrible, stomach-churning feeling of waiting for his father to get out of surgery.

“Only where coaches are concerned,” said Fabian.

Riz glanced over at him, turning back to pull his skates out of his locker. “Not really. I guess the league thought he was a good enough coach to keep around.”

“Well, I  don’t think that any coach that would conduct themselves in that way should be rewarded,” said Fabian.

“Yeah, well,” said Riz. “Not much we can do about it.”

Riz’s shoulders were hunched in on themselves again, his fingers fumbling at the laces of his skates. Fabian’s chest felt tight.

“Of course there is, The Puck, we’ll… we’ll- We’ll beat his stupid team,” said Fabian. “Thereby proving that Jawbone’s coaching style is superior to his.”

Riz’s expression flickered. “Fabian…”

“No, listen,” said Fabian. He stood up, moving to sit next to Riz. “It’s really very straightforward. We will simply be a better team than them, so consistently, absolutely, better that we will beat them at every turn.”

The corners of Riz’s lips quirked upwards. “Fabian-”

“And then,” added Fabian quickly, “people will ask us- because there’ll be crowds of reporters around us as we celebrate, you understand, and they’ll ask us how we came to be such a superior team, and we can simply tell them that it was because our coach never engaged in that kind of behaviour.”

Riz ducked his head, not quite fast enough to hide his smile. “I don’t know if that would be enough to get him kicked out. They’ve won too many times.”

“So we’ll just beat them more than that,” said Fabian.

Riz laughed. It wasn’t as bright as his usual laugh, but Fabian was relieved to hear it all the same.

“I think it might be harder than you’re making it sound,” said Riz.

“With the two of us playing together? Victory is easily within our sights,” said Fabian. “Now, come on. Let’s skate.”