Unwanted

Rating: PG

Original Date of Completion: October 2002

Disclaimer: I own them, you can't have them. This is all fake, conjured in the confines of my demented little mind. That means it's fake, and you can't sue me.

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I watch him closely out of the corner of my eye, looking desperately like he wants the floor to open up and swallow him. Excitement is heavy, almost suffocating in the air. Old teammates, old coaches, so many people are walking around this building right now. Tonight was the night, the banner raising celebrating out Stanley Cup victory. And tonight was also his first game at the Joe, draped in the red and white, the first chance for him to show the skeptical crowd just how great he really is. He should be psyched, aching to show just why he was the most coveted free agent out there, but he isn't. In six years, I'd come to know when he was upset. There were quite a few tell tale signs; the way he carried himself, the way he spoke, the way he'd spent the last 20 minutes lacing the same skate, they sent my boyfriend instinct blaring. But even if those signs weren't there, I'd still know. Anyone could spot it a mile away with just a glimpse of his eyes. "Mirrors to the soul" as the old saying goes. That saying held no truer for anyone than it did for him; no one had eyes like his.

Watching him quickly becomes too much to take. We'd agreed to keep our relationship a secret, we didn't need anyone saying something like I was the only reason he'd chose Detroit, or questioning where his loyalties laid. But even as just a friend, I couldn't sit back and watch him like that. I leave Mac and Avery to their "Who's bigger?" game (use your imagination) without a word, and walk over to him. Hully sits on one side of him, with Manny's bags occupying the other, leaving no immediate vacancies for me. But since Manny was nowhere around, and I really didn't feel like sitting on Hully's lap (as amusing as that would be) the bags hit the floor and I took their place. His eyes glanced up a me, but the ever present smile was nowhere to be found. Frowning, I leaned over toward him, and rested my elbows on my knees.

"Hey," I said lamely, clasping my hands together.

"Hey," He replied glumly, continuing to lace that same skate.

"Something wrong?"

"Nah,"

If I hadn't already known, that one simple world would've told me he was upset. Curtis only used the word "Nah" in a dismissive way, which said to me that he didn't really want to answer my question. It was one of his many quirks that I'd come to know, and find absolutely adorable, although somewhat annoying here and there. It didn't really bother me this time. I knew I'd get him to tell me, so one dismissive answer was not a enough to deter met. That just meant I had to be more persistent.

"Nah?" I asked, putting my hand on his shoulder. "Let's go for a walk," I said, jerking my head toward the door.

"I gotta finish getting ready," He mumbled.

As the words left his mouth, I dropped down in front of him, and batted his hands away from his skate. As quick as my fingers would move, I laced it up, ending a 20 minute job for him in 20 seconds. When finished, I hopped to my feet, extending my hand down to him with a smile. He smiled reluctantly, but took my hand anyway, slowly standing to his feet. I pointed to the door, and looking so much like a reprimanded child, he walked out into the hallway. With a slight frown, I walked out behind him.

I followed beside him as he slowly walked down the hallway. His eyes were focused intently on the floor, not even a glance at me. Whatever was troubling him was obviously large, as normally when I said "let's go for a walk", he knew it meant "time to spill your guts", and would be telling me whatever it was that was bothering him by now. But this time, he wasn't making no efforts to even look at me, let alone talk. It became apparent I would need to take a different approach this time. So as we passed an empty room, I grabbed him on the shoulder, and pulled him to a stop.

He looked at me in bewilderment, but that look disappeared when he saw the room behind me. With a sigh, he trotted into the room, sitting down in the one chair in the empty white box. I followed him inside, shutting the door behind me, then walking over to him. I knelt in front of him, and slipped my hand into his.

"Okay, tell me," I spoke simply, staring up into his eyes.

The blue was immediately taken from me, hidden behind stingy eyelids. He leaned back against the wall, and took a deep, slow breath.

"It's stupid," He muttered quietly, his eyes staying closed.

I squeezed his hand and ran my thumb along his palm. "I'm good with stupid," I joked softly.

A smile came to his lips, but his eyes remained closed. I knew he was just stopping the tears, but I couldn't help an upset feeling that he wouldn't look at me. He'd helped me through so many problems, 90% of the them stupid ones, but when I had the chance to finally help him, he couldn't even look at me. I know how much he hated to cry in front of other people, I just thought that after so long, it wouldn't bother him to do it in front of me. It's stupid, I know. All that really mattered was that he told me. I think I was really just mad that I was deprived of those eyes for so long.

"Come on," I whispered, kissing his hand. "After all the stuff I've dumped on you over the years, you owe me this,"

He sighed, but this time it was through a smile, albeit a weak one. "It's just...I'm letting stuff get to me,"

"Like what?"

"Like everything. Tonight the banner goes up, for Stanley Cup I didn't win. I have to play after that,"

"Curtis, that's not..." I started.

"It's not just that, it's everything. What if I go out there and let seven goals go through after that? The fans already hate me, to blow opening night..."

"Whoa, wait a minute," I interrupted. "The fans don't hate you,"

"Yes they do," He replied, his voice cracking. "They're already saying that I'm not any good, that I'm going to cost us the Cup. If I let one bad goal go, they'll be all over me saying how I'm not as good as Hasek..."

"Curtis..."

"They didn't want me here to begin with, they wanted him. The team, the staff, they all wanted him. I'm the second choice. Now with him back and saying how he'd come back if I were injured, there are probably 80 million people hoping I break my leg,"

Dammit. The first time I'd heard Dom say that, I knew it would have this effect. The pressure Curtis was stepping into was already enormous, but that made it even worse. If he had a bad night, people would now be able to say "They should just get Hasek back." With all the fuss that was made to get him to stay, it's only expected Curtis feel somewhat like the consolation prize. He was supposed to feel at home here, like he belonged in Detroit. But with Dom saying that, I'm sure it made him feel nothing but alienated, like no one really wanted him around, or they were only waiting for him to screw up to get Dom to come back. I'm sure he didn't mean to do it, but it was really inappropriate of Dom to say that. The faith was supposed to be behind Curtis 100%, but it never would be with that statement always lurking around. Because with that, Curtis wouldn't matter, they could always replace him if need be. I know it's kind of ridiculous, but that Dom had ever said really irked me.

"Curtis..." I tried to speak again.

"I just...I feel like no one really wants me here. Everyone wanted him, and now they could apparently get him, but I'm standing in the way. I feel...unwanted,"

Bingo. "Hey," I whispered, leaning up to kiss him on the cheek. "Don't let what said bother you. This team has total faith in you, I promise. It was very inappropriate for him to say that, but I'm sure he didn't mean it to hurt you. Dom doesn't think when he talks, not in English anyway,"

He snorted a laugh, but followed it up with a sniffle. I squeezed his hand, and compulsively rubbed my thumb along his palm. "Kenny would never do that anyway. This is your team now, you're the number 1 guy. This is where you belong Curtis, there isn't a person on this team, or with this team that doesn't want you here,"

He sniffled slightly again, and finally opened his eyes, locking them with mine. "But what about the fans?" He whispered.

I sighed, and again leaned up and kissed him on the cheek. "The fans in Detroit don't know what you're about. They've only seen glimpses, if that, of how great you can be. They're going to be cruel, no one thinks we're allowed to lose even one game, and you're the easiest one to blame. But we're allowed to lose. We're not invincible, we're only human, YOU'RE only human. You're allowed to make mistakes. Dom made mistakes, SCARY mistakes. Ozzie, he made TONS of mistakes. And the fans treated them the same way they have you. You can't let it bother you. This team knows how great you are, and most importantly, you do. The fans, if they don't believe in you, they'll be awfully sorry when it's all said and done. Because there is no one better to back us up than you, Curtis..."

"But..."

"Shh," I silenced him with a finger on the lip. "You may not see that right now, but you will. The fans will realize. All that matters is that you believe in yourself, and that under any circumstances ever, you are not unwanted here," I leaned up and brushed my lips against his softly. "I promise,"

He stared at me in silence for a brief time before a smile spread across his face. The usual light returned to his eyes, and my heart leapt in satisfaction. He leaned down, and softly our lips came together. Our kisses didn't last long, but when they ended my entire body ached for more. I was glad I'd cheered him up, if only because that was my reward. But in all honesty, to see him smile, THAT was my reward. I'd meant everything I'd said to him. I understood the frustrations of playing in Hockeytown, and it only got worse when you were the goalie. But in the end, the frustration was always worth it. There will always be skeptics, but the majority of the fans stuck by us through thick and thin. And it was those fans that mattered, and those fans that would never make Curtis feel unwanted.

"Thank you," He said with a smile as he got to his feet. "I needed to hear all that,"

"I meant it all," I replied with a light kiss to the back of his hand.

"Thank you. And at least I know that if worse comes to worse, you'll always want me," He giggled, pulling open the door.

Grinning, I grabbed his hand, and pulled him back into the room. I pushed him against the door, slamming it with a loud click. He smirked, and slipped his arms around my neck.

"I will always want you. In fact, I want you right now...."

THE END

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