You're gone away

I'm left alone

A part of me is gone

And I'm not moving on

So wait for me

I know the day will come,

I'll meet you there.

No matter where life takes me to,

I'll meet you there.

And even if I need you here,

I'll meet you there.

-Simple Plan, "Meet You There"

 

 

Andrew

 

       Cleaning out my locker was nothing new. I'd spent two years shuttling between Pittsburgh and Wilkes-Barre; I was used to packing up at a moment's notice to fly across the state. Doing it again shouldn't have bothered me as much as it did, even if I was flying across the country this time.

       I'd purposely come to get my stuff in the middle of practice, hoping that I could avoid everyone. My former teammates. It wasn't like I hadn't been expecting a trade; I hadn't played more than two consecutive games in well over a month. I just figured that I would be a throw-in with when they traded Kovalev. I didn't expect to go to a team on the other end of the continent. Pittsburgh was far from perfect, but it had become home.

       Krista was ecstatic to hear the news. She'd started to worry about me, not knowing when or if I was going to play. Besides, it meant that we would be back in Alberta, where both of us had grown up. But she couldn't figure out why I'd been fighting back tears last night, and I knew she wouldn't understand why I was crying while packing my bag in the middle of an empty locker room.

       She didn't realize what I was leaving behind.

       "You thought I would let you leave without seeing you?" Alexei's thick accent asked from behind me.

       I wiped my eyes hurriedly, trying to regain some semblance of composure. I spun to look at him, and had to angle my neck more than usual. He was still in his practice gear, all the way down to the skates that raised him an extra few inches taller than me. "I just didn't want to face anyone," I explained quietly.

       "Not even me?" he said just as softly. I shrugged and glanced at the ground, and he wiped away the tear that had slipped from the corner of my eye. "It's okay, baby. Don't cry," he tilted my head up until he could stare in my eyes, and then he cradled my face in his hands.

       I swallowed hard, then bit my trembling lower lip. "I just thought that...wherever you ended up, I assumed that I would be there too."

       "Shh," he whispered, "we don't know how the rest of this is going to work." He pressed a warm kiss to my forehead, then added, "Don't borrow trouble, Andy. We'll figure something out." I nodded slowly, and eventually the lips on my forehead curled into a smile. "You don't leave until later tonight, right?"

       "Yeah. I'd like to see you before I go..."

       He rested his forehead against mine, and a damp lock of his hair tickled my eyebrow. "After practice, love. You know where to go," he murmured, then left a kiss as soft as a rose petal on my lips, then another one on the tip of my nose. "I'll meet you there."

       As I watched him walk back to the ice, back to his team, I let a few more tears fall, even though I was trying to convince myself that we would be okay.

 

 

Alexei

 

       Settler's Cabin Park was beautiful in the winter. It was always a pretty sight, but when the snow was blanketed on the hills and frosting the barren tree branches and glowing the purest white, the park was breathtaking.

       Andy and I had been coming here for a long time--almost two years. It was a getaway; it was the only place away from the team and the fans and the media and our wives. I'd been cursing Craig Patrick in my head all day, and despite the way I'd been calm with Andrew in the locker room, I was devastated. I had watched Andy grow up. I had fallen in love with him. Now they were taking him away.

       I prayed silently that Colorado wanted me. Or Detroit. Or anyone in the Western Conference. If I stayed in the East, I would never get to see him. I parked next to his truck, then pulled on my gloves as protection for the short but very cold walk to the secluded spot where we had kissed the first time, in celebration of a long-forgotten playoff victory.

       When I came to the clearing, our clearing, Andrew was leaning against a tree, eyes closed, bundled tightly in a scarf and heavy coat, his hands stuffed deep into his pockets. I stepped softly, hoping not to disturb him. I pulled off my gloves, and when I reached him, I slipped my hands into his pockets, surprised to find the warmth of his skin rather than the leather of his gloves.

       "Hi," he whispered, his eyes drifting open while his fingers coiled around mine. His normally bright brown eyes were darkened with harsh red veins, and the lids over them were puffy from the tears. His lower lip was a severe shade of pink, nearly bitten raw, and his cheeks shared the same tint, flushed from the cold. He was beautiful.

       "Don't be so sad, baby," I told him. "I'll still be here when you come back to get your stuff. After that, who knows? Maybe Vancouver or the Wings or Dallas will want me. And then we'll see each other all the time." I remembered something I'd heard on the radio earlier that week. "They're changing the scheduling. We'll both be in the West; we'll see each other all the time."

       He smiled sadly, "I can pretend to get into a fight with you. Do you think that I could just hold onto you and scowl so that it looks like we're fighting?"

       I laughed, "Sure. We'll pretend to hate each other. We'll just hold on and look pissed off. And then I'll glare at you from the penalty box."

       "Then after the game, we can go..." the melodic ring of my cell phone stopped him mid-sentence. I answered it quickly, wanting to go back to our musings.

       "Hello, Alexei," were the only two words that I needed to hear from Craig Patrick to tie a knot in my stomach and tighten the grip I held on Andy's hand. "I just got off of the phone with Glen Sather. We've made a deal that sends you to New York, along with Danny..."

       I didn't hear the rest of his words. New York. The Rangers. Again. They were sending me home. Just like they were sending Andy home. I wasn't sure how to react. "Oh. This just happened now?"

       Andy's eyebrows lowered and a worried line creased his forehead; the tears that had been held at bay while we daydreamed were starting to glisten in his eyes again, and this time, I couldn't stop the way my vision wavered. And just like that, he knew.

       I hung up with Craig, telling him that I needed a few minutes to process the information. "New York," I told Andy. "The Rangers."

       He nodded, then his breath caught in his throat, and he started to cry. "You won't be here when I come back for the rest of my things. And you won't be in the West. And we're not going to see each other or pretend to fight or meet in secrecy after games..."

       I wrapped my arms tightly around him. His body was shaking against mine, and I tried to keep myself from breaking down, but it was impossible. This was it. He knew it as well as I did. We'd come to the end.

       "I love you, Andrew," I whispered hoarsely against his ear.

       He looked up at me sadly, his chin quivering and his breathing labored, "I don't want to leave you."

       I bit my lip and blinked away more tears, "Me either. I never wanted to say good-bye to you," I kissed him urgently, and his fingers tangled in my hair. I swirled my tongue over his, wanting to record every taste of his mouth, the feel of his breath on my cheek, the way his body pressed perfectly against mine if he stood up on his toes. It wasn't fair. We wouldn't even get the chance for a proper farewell. We wouldn't get to finish this with emotional, passionate lovemaking. We had to settle for a tearstained kiss in the middle of the most beautiful scene in the world.

       We pulled slowly away from the kiss, and I didn't open my eyes for a long time, hoping to extend the moment a few seconds more. When I finally looked, he was staring up at me with snowflakes in his hair and on his eyelashes, and his eyes held a strange sense of peace. "Someday," he breathed, "we'll do this again. Even if it isn't here, even if it isn't until the distant future. This isn't good-bye, Alexei."

       I smiled sadly at him, "Someday."