Chapter Text
Hayden Pike is a reasonable man.
He's a family guy. Everyday, a loving wife, four kids and a beautiful house wait for him when he gets home from work. He's young, he's famous, and he loves hockey.
He couldn't be happier.
Seeing his best friend Shane in the stands, clearly riding off the high of some very heavy pain medication while he waves frantically at the jumbotron is making him reconsider things. Hayden is sure, without a doubt, that Shane leaving the Montreal Metros is the worst thing that has ever happened to him. Not just his career, but him.
Shane waves to the jumbotron again, giddy and a bit feverish. The camera is milking the opportunity they know they will never again get once Shane Hollander sees this footage.
The crowd cheers. Shane gives out one of those overhead arm hearts, head tilted.
Hayden Pike thinks satan himself might be toying with his life strings.
He physically sighs, head thrown back in anguish. The cold white lights of the locker rooms low ceiling mock him as he leaves its confines with the rest of the Metros, back from intermission. Fuck he really didn't want to play today.
See, the Montreal Metros had spent the better part of two years pretending they were fine.
They had not been fine.
The losing streak had merely exposed the wound. They'd been hanging by a thread for the playoffs in a wildcard spot for a while now. An absolutely humiliating turn of events following their three year run as Stanley Cup champions.
Back to Shane, who is sitting in the stands, looking pretty as pie while he sports a hazy look in his eyes and munches on what Hayden can only assume is a diet-appropriate snack. He spots Hayden who's now gotten on the ice and he almost winces at how cheerful Shane looks right now.
"Hayd! Up here. Hayd. Haydddd"
His laugh echoes through the lower bowl as he waves one good arm as high as physically possible.
Hayden nearly folds in half, his heart feeling as if its cracking. He puts his head between his knees and tries not to take that personally.
"Do you think he ever thinks about us?" Comeau says mournfully on the ice.
Hayden Pike pauses for a moment. He gets up from his downward pose and took a good look at Shane. Him sporting an Ottawa branded fleece jacket, the giddy smile plastered on his face, and the lack of existential dread present on any corner of his expressions had Hayden come to the recurring but correct conclusion that Jackie had talked him through.
"No, bitch." His voice wavers, a slight whine coming off of it.
In the corner of his eye he sees Rozanov skate out to the edge of the rink, giving Shane a quick wink before he skates off back to his side.
"Oh, for fuck's sake," Hayden muttered.
"He's popular." JJ stood beside them now, leaning casually against his stick.
"You say that like it's a surprise."
"It isn't."
Shane clearly isn't done with his greetings, as he comes down from his place in the stands, smushing his face on the glass while a frantic Rose Landry chases him from behind.
"Hiiiii guys" Shane says, genuine delight in his voice. "Mitty I hope you fixed your left, you always favor your right" He says in a sing songy tone before Rose drags him away from the ground floor, bringing him back up to their slightly higher lower bowl seats.
"What the fuck is he doing?" Drapeau mumbles to Comeau, skating over in a rush.
"Let him have this." J.J. interjects, exasperated.
The Metros lose 2 - 4 to the Centaurs, but Hayden Pike is no stranger to defeat at this point.
He smiles only a little when he see's Shane and his parents greet Ilya as he comes off the ice, Shane caught in a warm embrace as Ilya strokes his hair, the look of love clear in his eyes.