William Elliot Hawthorne | C 17

The double doors clicked as Elliot pressed on the release to it. The cool air flooded the halls as he held the door open for Reese. The breeze ruffled his hair as he stood there for a moment, thinking about what had transpired in the bathroom. Why had he pushed Reese like that? It was so uncharacteristic of him, but that was the funny part about Reese, the man seemed to bring out parts of Elliot that he didn’t even know were in there. He began walking next to Reese, matching the man’s limping pace. He could tell that the man was aching, the way that he could see his labored breath as it floated away from him in the crisp air, and the way that he was hunched over, his back rounded, clearly in pain. This wasn’t a good idea… Elliot thought as he watched Reese with a concerned gaze. Not only was Reese clearly in pain, but he wasn’t dressed for the weather. Sure he was from Canada, but his conditions had been far better at that point in his life. He’d thought about refusing to let Reese out of the building dressed as he was, but at some point you need to let someone freeze their ass off for them to listen to you.

He trudged next to Reese, wanting the man to struggle, maybe then he’d see that he did indeed need Elliot in his life… But Reese did know that he needed Elliot in his life, but Elliot seemed to be more of a convenience for Reese more than a friendship. “I’m ready to go back inside.” Reese’s warm voice cut through the cold air like a hug from a warm blanket. “Are you sure?” Elliot questioned, but the look in the man's eye said it all. “Let’s go in.” Elliot agreed as he turned on his heel to head towards the doors. He scanned his watch on the barcode and the doors unlocked. Elliot held it open as Reese stumbled through it into the warm halls. Elliot followed him, checking the time. It was a quarter after 1 by now. What a strange night. Elliot thought as he reached his arms out to grab Reese as he began to tilt back going up the stairs as if he were going to topple down them. He caught himself, but Elliot was prepared to grab the man just in case. It was a sad sight to see Reese in such a condition. He’d been so fit, and at the current height of his new career, and now he could hardly walk up the stairs on his own. It pissed Elliot off, why would someone steal that from him?

Elliot passed him on the stairs, wanting to unlock his door so that Reese wasn’t waiting around. He clearly needed to sit down. Elliot jogged up the rest of the flights, his conditioning paying off as his heart rate barely elevated from his uphill sprint to beat his teammate to the door. He unlocked it, staring Reese down when he finally reached the top of the stairs. “Are you good?” Elliot asked, but Reese didn’t seem to hear him. Nervously Elliot bit his lower lip as Reese slowly went through the doorway. He’d turned around to lock the door behind him when a thud made him jump. He spun around, worried that Reese had just died of a cardiac arrest. The man was alive, but hardly. Elliot’s eyes widened as he stepped towards the man. He glanced up at the camera above his door, shock smacked across his face. Were they seeing this? He knew that Reese had removed all of the cameras in his room, but no matter how many of the camera’s Elliot would take down, more would appear and while they couldn’t see Reese, he was pretty sure that they could still record his conversations. Elliot had grown up in a heavily surveyed area at Lars’ work so being on camera wasn’t anything new to him. He had nothing to fear if he wasn’t doing anything wrong.

The Swede was unsure on what to do as Reese apparently was trying to actively die on his floor. Suddenly a laugh cut through the air. That was his laugh, why was he laughing? It was like the time he had laughed at his grandfather’s funeral as everyone was sitting in a moment of silence. He ran a hand through his fringe as he bent down to put his hand on the man's back, trying to get a feel of how cold Reese felt. “Just a bit out of shape are you?” He teased, he knew that it wasn’t the best time to be teasing this particular man, but what else was he to do? If he panicked Reese would most likely panic as well, and that was the last thing that he needed his teammate to be doing. Reese’s witty surprise threw Elliot off for a moment, “Sorry I’m not performing to your standards while there’s a list of things wrong with me longer than the contacts in your phone.” A smile spread across Elliot’s face. “Ah, well you see, I have like five contacts in my phone, so it’s not hard to beat.” Elliot shot back as he hoisted the man up. “Let’s get you a cup of water.” He said softly as he guided Reese towards the couch. He had two couches in his flat, one faced the windows, the other faced a TV. He placed Reese on the one facing the TV, hoping that maybe he could distract the man for a moment from his pain with the TV.

When Elliot handed off the cup of water Reese grumbled a small “Thank you.” Elliot rolled his eyes, playfully, “Don’t act like it was me that did this to you.” Though it was light, his comment still had some weight to it. “Do you have anything expendable? I’d rather not die in biohazard cotton, and I’m pretty sure you don’t want your couch looking like a crime scene.” Elliot shrugged, I don’t particularly care what my couch looks like, it was like 20 Euros at a sale, but let me see what I have. It was the time of night where Elliot could have sworn that he’d spoken, but he hadn’t. He’d remained silent as he dug through his clothes. Apparently it was all dirty aside from the clean sweater he currently had on that he’d put on when he heard Reese’s knocking. He thought about it for a moment. Whatever, they had traveled enough together at this point. He grabbed the hem of his sweater and hoisted it over his head. He removed his arms one by one and then balled it up and stared at it in his hands for a moment. Elliot crossed his arms, they rested just above his false ribs, as he nervously chewed his cheek as he stared at the wall for a moment, why was he nervous?

He turned around catching Reese’s eyes, why were they wandering? He couldn’t help but to smirk at Reese’s stunned face and silence. Elliot tossed the shirt at the man, forgetting that he didn’t possess his normal abilities to react to things. Reese caught it, much to his surprise, but Elliot saw his wince. “Be careful, idiot.” He muttered to himself as he stood there for a moment, Reese seemingly wasn’t in the room with him anymore, his mind elsewhere. Elliot silently walked over to the couch, taking a seat next to him, waiting for Reese to acknowledge his presence. Elliot closed his eyes, leaning his head back against the cradle of the couch, placing his palms on both eyes. The darkness was soothing as he stretched his shoulders and upper back with a sigh. He then closed his eyes for a moment, trying to stay grounded in the dark. Why didn’t you call me? Those words still echoed through the chambers of his mind, but he didn’t dare speak them this time. He knew that Reese would never call on him, why would he? Clearly Reese was an independent person who could function completely on his own, clearly. He opened his eyes and glanced towards Reese who stared straight ahead. Not a single glance towards him? What did Elliot need to do to get recognized by the man that coldly sat next to him. He’d done everything correct, he’d helped him out time after time, and all he wanted in return was a text back.

He’d put on the 1931 version of Frankenstein. He’d seen it time and time again, and while he still thought that the book did a better job portraying the isolation of the monster, the film was still a classic nonetheless.

Elliot was bored in the film, perusal but the background noise was nice for his thoughts. His eyes kept flickering from Reese to the screen. It had been so long since he’d seen Reese this close, his hair looked so soft. Would he be mad if he touched it? He kept debating within his mind if he were to touch the man’s hair. Eventually he gave in, and slowly reached out, his hand gently ruffling the Canadian’s soft, curly hair. Everything felt right in that moment, especially as Reese gave into Elliot’s touch. Elliot glanced down at the man slumped next to him. He pulled his teammate closer, wrapping both arms around his shoulders, pulling him closer into his chest. He stared down at the man whose eyes were locked on the black and white film. Why wasn’t Reese pushing him away? He didn’t care, maybe Reese was finally accepting the fact that he did indeed need company. Elliot could feel his shoulders slowly releasing the tension that they’d picked up during the day as he felt Reese’s heartbeat against his forearm. As he stared down at Reese the rest of the world seemed to go quiet. He noticed the way that his eyelashes touched his eyelids with every blink, the small blemishes on his face, and the poor razoring job that he’d done with his non-dominant hand. “I missed you.” He whispered into the comfortable silence. “Don’t do that again, please.” He muttered, placing his cheek on the top of Reese’s head, his eyes lingering on the screen in front of him now. It didn’t take long before Elliot’s entire body went limp as his arms fell from where they were wrapped around Reese. His head pressed against Reese’s head as his lights went out.

The light flickered through the curtains, painting his face. He was curled up on the couch, his neck hurting from his head resting at such an odd angle. He slowly opened his eyes, seeing a figure in the doorway. He closed his eyes again, not caring. If Reese was well enough to stand, he was good to leave, it wasn’t like Elliot was going to tie him up and bound him in his room. “Bye.” He muttered as he turned over, his back facing the door as he buried his face in the cushions.

The lingering, faint smell of Reese’s cologne mixed with the soft sound of birds singing in the trees outside of the window finally woke him up fully. It was fifteen after ten. He groaned as he rolled off the couch, dropping to the floor. He laid there for a moment, thinking about his life choices as he got into a push-up position. Waking up had always been hard for him, and he’d been told that starting the morning with exercises would wake him up. Did it work? Hell no, but he’d been doing it for years. Every other morning he added another push-up. This particular morning he did 98. He stood up, still feeling asleep and wandered towards the kitchen. He flicked the switch on his cheap espresso machine and headed back towards his closet. He got dressed into a tight fitted short sleeved button up shirt with white slacks. He heard his machine beep as he was combing his hair. He leaned in towards the mirror, his eyes narrowed, he needed to get his hair re-colored, but he couldn’t find anyone better than his hairstylist in Stockholm.

He, his mug of coffee and a random dying plant from his flat walked down the hallway towards the common rooms. The common room had less direct sunlight that his plant would prefer. He heard voices from outside the door. He paused. What was happening there? He pushed the door open, seeing a projector and three figures huddled around a portable screen. He tilted his head as he took in the scene. “What’s going on?” He saw Reese’s head pop up, and turn around, a large smile on his face as his teammate came barreling at him. “Come, I can help you!” Elliot gave him a strange look. “Sure.” He said with a shrug as he followed Reese over to the screen.

William Elliot Hawthorne | C 17 | Reese, Rook, Jasper

The laser shakily rested on his chest. He attempted to move to not be hit with whatever laser Reese was playing with, but he was unsuccessful. It was the silence from his teammates who stared at him in the doorway that confused him at first, but then he saw the glances towards the wilted plant in his hands. “Don’t mind Dexter, he’ll make it through.” He said with a nod as he stared at the three of them. “Another victim? Oh good. I’ll be boiled into tomorrow's soup then?” He smirked, but his eyes rested solely on Reese. “I mean, I could tell you that the kid was crazy, I’ve bunked with him more than I can count…. He doesn’t tire, it’s amazing. I wish I had that kind of energy.”

“There’s the corpse of our offensive zone pressure, sit down. I want to show everyone the exact moment your decision-making abandoned your body.” Reese’s voice cut through the playful banter, “Am I the corpse?” He questioned as he put the plant– “Dexter” onto the side table next to the couch before taking his spot next to Rook. He gently elbowed the Fin in the side, “How’re you feeling?” His attention was fully on the older man, “Sore, but it’s getting there.” Elliot nodded thoughtfully. “Good, I’m glad to hear.”

Elliot and Rook were like school kids for the first part of Reese’s lecture. Every time Elliot would as much as glance at Reese the man next to Elliot would nudge him playfully. “Stop looking at me.” Elliot finally said, frowning. “Why are you touching me?” He smiled at Rook, a lopsided smile, a playful fire burning in his eyes as he dared the man to play back. Rook didn’t say anything other than to reach a finger out and poke Elliot’s side. Elliot returned the favor and thus started the first playful game between the two.

“Focus.” Reese’s voice was sharp. The Swede straightened up, staring at the Canadian. “Sorry.” He muttered, his eyes falling to the floor. He heard Reese clap his hands and the program pause. “There. You see there?” Elliot shrugged, his face tense as he stared at himself on the screen. “I see a lot of things wrong with that.” He muttered, staring into his own tired eyes. It was the way that his fists were clenched by his side, it was clear that he was chewing on his cheek, anxiety written all over his face. He remembered that game. It had been the first time in forever that he’d traveled without Reese. He’d been staying with Jasper. Jasper was great… but it wasn’t comfortable. He’d found himself always in the man's way, and the conversation was sparse. He’d avoided going back to the hotel room the entire time they’d been there. He remembered how he kept on waiting for Reese to sit next to him on the bus, the way his smile fell off his face when the doors closed and Reese wasn’t there. He remembered the worry that held him captive as he skated onto the ice with the team in the spotlights as people cheered for the team, and the merchandise with Reese’s number reminding him that his friend wasn’t right next to him. He also recalled the calamity in the locker room after the game as he reflected on his own shitty plays.

I don’t want to watch. The thought flashed through his mind as he watched his haunted plays. He fumbled time after time, and at some point he just idled on the ice, looking lost as he stared at the players rush past him, passing the puck effortlessly. It had started out well, he’d done well with an assist and then his face went blank as his shoulders dropped, from there it went to hell.

“You see that?” Reese responded. “Yeah.” Elliot responded, “I dunno, it wasn't a good day.” He offered, “But you have a lot of bad days.” Reese shot back. Elliot took a sharp breath in, looking off to the left, leaning his body away from Reese with an eyeroll. “Ah, so sue me for having a few bad days.”

The Swede gazed off towards the wall, seemingly recoiling in on himself, trying to make himself as small as possible to avoid all of the pairs of eyes on him. His entire body felt tense, and he was on the verge of tears. Subconsciously he chewed at his nails, rethinking what Reese had just pointed out to him. Suddenly the tape was clicked off. Elliot turned to stare at his younger teammate. Was he done harping on him? “Alright, tape’s done for now. We’re going to the ice. I need to see it at speed before I lose my mind.” Elliot stared at him. “You’re not getting on the ice.” He declared, standing up. “He’s absolutely taking you hostage by the way,” Rook chuckled and Elliot felt another poke in his side, “This is the most personal training I’ve ever seen in my life.” Reese looked up at him, with a raised eyebrow. “No.” Elliot repeated, shaking his head. “We’re not playing this game.” Behind the pair Jasper and Rook shared a look. “No, sit down.” Elliot said sharply as Reese stood up, depending on his cane. “I can leave anytime,” Elliot shot back, “I just choose to stay for his own sanity.” Elliot gave Reese a side eye, following him out the door into the hall, “You’re not skating.” He repeated, not really making any attempt to get him to stop.

Reese sat in the middle of the ice on a lawn chair with a megaphone, yelling orders at Elliot as the Swede did drill after drill. He did them quite well compared to how he played on the tapes. He was focused, and clearly fit, and seemed to know something about the sport that he did professionally. He’d had so many conversations with too many psychologists, and with Websy on why he couldn’t’ play like he practiced. The answer was, he didn’t know. He tried all of the tricks, all of the anxiety medications they’d shoved his way and yet nothing seemed to stop the elevated heart rate and nausea at the back of his throat before every game. He felt broken at all hours of the day as he mulled about in his own performances. The constant reminder from his teammates and coaches didn’t help the weight he felt resting on his back. “Why don’t you do this? Why don’t you try this? What about this? Did you feel how you did that?” There was a constant war in his head between the fear of failure and the want to do it. What if he failed? What if he didn’t make the cut? He was just riding right where he needed to be to stay season to season, reaching his season goals, but when would that not be enough? He lay awake at night, thinking of everything he had done wrong in practice that day, how he could improve and he strived to improve, and yet the minute that the crowds cheered and the spotlights blinded him he was lost. “Okay, do that, but better.” Reese’s voice echoed off the boards. Elliot looked at him, defeated, but he did it again, and again, and again, and yet every time he got worse and worse. “Stop. What are you doing?” Reese questioned. Elliot’s shoulders got tight, reaching up towards his ears before he dropped his gloves, pressing his palms into his eyes. “I don’t understand. Do what? How do I do it better? You need to tell me how, don’t tell me to do it better and not tell me what the fuck I’m doing wrong!” Elliot gave a frustrated sigh. “I’m done for the day.” He muttered, picking up his gloves and skating towards the box.

Somehow, Reese had managed to drag Elliot downtown. He didn’t really want to go, but Reese had offered lunch, and well, here he was, walking next to Reese on the cobblestone streets. Their shoulders bumped together as they walked in silence. Elliot felt like an overflowing sink, and he wasn’t sure how to act. He’d had his ass handed to him by Reese just half an hour earlier and the thoughts swirling in his mind were that he wasn’t good enough to be on a team playing next to Reese. He’d hurt his own feelings as he roasted himself in his own head, listening to the church bells as they rang off the shops that they walked past.

Reese broke the silence, speaking still about different plays that he wanted to run Elliot through. Elliot tilted his head, watching the Canadian speak as he ran a hand through his hair. “I love how your eyes light up when you speak about something you are passionate about.” He said softly, a gentle smile rising to his face as he chuckled, watching his teammate with a gentle gaze. Elliot continued, “You know, whenever I’m with you I’m reminded of what a gift life truly is.” Reese went silent for a moment before rambling on about whatever he was going on about before.

The pair sat down to lunch, it was crowded, and loud. The morning was slowly slipping out of Elliot’s mind as he listened to how Reese spoke. He spoke with such a burning passion about everything, and with such confidence that it made Elliot chuckle. His shoulders slowly began to relax as he listened to his teammate’s stories and his plans. Elliot leaned in towards Reese, trying to hear him better over the chatter, and so that Reese would hopefully be able to hear him. Now felt like a good time to reiterate what he and Charlotte had spoken about, their attempts to make Reese feel appreciated, and Elliot’s own selfish goals for the man to see that he didn’t need to go through life alone. “You must be a magician because whenever I look at you, everyone else disappears." He froze when Reese turned to stare at him, probably upset that he’d said such bullshit into his ear. Elliot had sat next to this man dozens of times just like this, and yet, why did this one feel different? Charlotte's words played in his head, “It reminds me of how I feel about my husband.” Elliot’s hand began to gently shake as he stared into the man’s mossy eyes. Why was he thinking of that now? What was different about Reese in this lighting? His eyes fell towards the man’s lips as he thought of his hand running through his soft curls the night prior, the embarrassed look on his face as he stood bleeding out on his doorstep. Slowly Elliot leaned in towards him, his hands gently reaching out for Reese’s warm cheek.

A sharp noise cut through the silence that filled Elliot’s bubble. He flinched away from Reese, creating room between the two of them as Reese reached for his phone, the culprit of that awful noise. The Swede rubbed his eyes, and turned his body away from Reese, covering his mouth and cheeks with his hand, trying to hide the flushed color of his cheeks. What was that? His heart hammered in his chest as he ran a hand through his hair, biting his lower lip as he attempted to figure out what had been going through his head, but that was the thing, nothing had been going through his head aside from Charlotte’s voice. What had she done to him? Reese is a friend, a good friend. He’d told her. He took his own phone out of his pocket, looking at his background, Reese’s last text message to him. I miss you. Reese had said. I always miss you. Elliot responded. He’d set it as his main background on his phone when Reese had fallen off the Earth, and somehow it made him feel closer to the man in his absence. It’s been the reminder that he needed that maybe, just maybe he meant something to someone, but, what did Reese mean to him? “Everything alright?” Elliot asked, turning back towards Reese as he killed the line on his phone. Elliot caught Reese’s eye before looking away. The man’s energy had shifted, and suddenly, he wasn’t in such a happy mood either.