Chapter Text
Bitty hated sending Jack on roadies. Well, maybe that wasn’t entirely true. He didn't mind it, he just wished that they could spend all their time together without Jack having to leave for days at a time, but they’d managed through Bitty’s senior year, a few days of the week were nothing. Still, Bitty preferred to be able to cuddle with Jack. He was getting spoiled to the point where sometimes it was hard to fall asleep at night without Jack next to him.
It was even harder because the season was just starting, so neither of them were quite used to Jack having to leave again. Bitty padded to the front door, hands touching every inch of Jack that he could.
“Do you have to go?” Bitty was whining.
Jack chuckled, “Bits, it’s my job. I gotta keep you fed. I’m just going to New York. I’ll only be gone a night.” He placed a kiss to Bitty’s cowlick.
Silence filled the room as Bitty finally dropped his hands to let Jack get ready. Not that there was much to do, Jack liked to pack the night before so all he had to do was grab and go. It allowed them more time in bed.
Bitty leaned against the wall, arms over his chest. Something was wrong. He chewed his bottom lip before asking again, “You’re sure you have to go? I just- I can’t explain it, Jack. Something doesn't feel right.”
Jack, who was sitting on the bench they had in the entrance hall of their home, looked up. He searched Bitty’s face for a long while, “I can’t call in because you have a bad feeling, bud. You know this.” Though the words went past his lips with ease, he had to agree. There was something not right about the day.
They stood there in silence for a long time. Jack’s shirt was tight-fitting around the chest, Bitty noticed with mild annoyance. It made him look good, making it even harder to let him walk out the door, and it was blue. The silence stretched on for a while before Jack made a move to leave. Bitty couldn’t stop him, he knew that.
“I love you,” was mumbled, eyes meeting Jack’s for a split second.
“I love you too, Bits.” Jack stooped down to steal a kiss from Bitty, one that lingered for a little longer than it should have. Few things in this world could melt Jack’s steely facade: history facts, Shitty most days, and Bitty when he was a little grumpy and still rumpled with sleep. Well, if he was being honest it was Bitty all the time but that was a technicality.
With his hand on the doorknob, Jack paused. He wasn’t sure why but he felt like he should remember this moment, so he turned once more. Bitty was smiling gently, though there was a sadness in his features that was often there when Jack left on roadies. Hair a mess, still groggy from waking up, the only way Jack could describe his whole appearance was soft. Like a ray of sunshine that was only just starting to crest the horizon. Their eyes met, Jack smiled a little bit before ducking into the hallway, leaving Bitty alone in their apartment.
For a long time, everything was still, including Bitty who didn’t move from the entrance hall for a long few minutes after Jack had left. When he finally did move again, it was to the bedroom. It was still early, early enough that going back to bed for a few more hours was entirely acceptable.
Upon waking up, it was immediately apparent that the weird feeling hadn’t gone away. It sat heavy, like a stone, in the pit of Bitty’s stomach. It made him squirm. Baking would help, he was sure of it. A quick shower (a poor attempt to try to wash the feelings away) later found Bitty moving in the kitchen, a familiar feeling washing over him, working to calm him slightly. It wasn’t like a dance, it was more like being on the ice when Bitty was in the kitchen. All the moves were second nature to him, from finding the flour and getting the butter, to setting the pot on the stove. He wanted to make an apple pie, but it was too reminiscent of Jack, so he settled to work with the frozen cherries he had in the fridge… He doubted anyone would be able to tell that it was made from frozen fruit, not after Bitty worked his magic on them. Maybe he should invite Shitty and Lardo over, it’d been a long time since they’d all been together.
At some point, he’d realized that he wasn’t listening to music, which was odd since there was always something playing for him to sing along to, but it didn’t feel right. Music was too upbeat too… happy? Especially the music that he often listened to. Instead of using the fancy stereo system Jack had installed specially for him, Bitty turned the tv on to a random channel. There wasn’t much on during the middle of the day, but he wasn’t paying much attention anyway.
Well, he wasn’t paying much attention until he heard, “Coming to you live from Connecticut, there has been a bus accident-” Bitty stopped, he stared. Jack would be going through Connecticut right now. “No word yet on casualties or injuries, but the bus was carrying The Provi-” The pie fell out of Bitty’s hands and made a deafening crash as it hit the floor, the contents going everywhere. The world came to a screeching halt, everything dipping and spinning as Bitty tried to grab and hold onto something to keep him upright.
“No.” Bitty choked out, “No, no, this-” His breath caught when he saw the bus. How had it even managed to roll? There was debris everywhere, and it looked like there were multiple vehicles involved, including a pickup truck whose front was completely smashed in. The police and ambulances and fire trucks had arrived, but only just. Traffic was at a standstill, people had gotten out of their cars and now, the police were trying to push them back.
Distantly, Bitty heard his phone ring. He hoped it was Jack as he lunged towards it, but no, it was Shitty. His heart dropped so fast he thought it was going to kill him. With shaky hands, he answered, “Shitty?”
“Bitty, oh my g- Bitty, have you heard?”
Bitty’s bottom lip wobbled, “Y-yeah. I haven’t h-heard from him, Shitty. It looks so b-bad-” He sniffled, trying not to cry.
“He’ll be okay, Bitty. I know him. There’s no way he won’t come home to you-” There was shuffling in the background, “Lards and I are on our way, okay? We’ll be there in-”
“No!” Bitty shouted, “You can’t drive! What if-”
“Hey, hey,” Shitty soothed, “We’ll be really fucking careful, I promise. Unless you want to be alone?”
Bitty didn’t want to be alone, “No. Just… please be careful,” He whispered. Shitty promised again and then hung up.
He knew he shouldn’t be watching. He knew he should look away and clean up the kitchen and the pie filling he’d trailed into the living room but he couldn’t. That was Jack, that was his family and they were all on that bus. Another call came in, in between all the buzzing from texts. He looked at the phone that was ringing in his hand, it sounded too loud. The screeching of it wasn’t dissimilar to the clattering crash that the pie had made as it hit the floor.
He squinted at the offending device in his hand, trying to see the name through his tears.
Bob.
His breath caught and for a moment, he didn’t want to answer. Would they call Bob before him if something had happened? No. Even if they did, the accident was on the tv and no one had been taken off the bus yet. Bob didn’t know any more than Bitty. The jury was out on if that made him more comfortable or not. After a moment, he answered, “Hi, Bob.”
“Eric!” He sounded frantic, “We haven’t heard anything, we figured you hadn’t either?”
Bitty shook his head before remembering Bob couldn’t see him, “No, nothing yet. I’m watching though,” he whispered.
“Alicia was too-” He said something in French that Bitty only half understood. Something about not packing and buying clothes, “We booked the next flight to Providence. We’ll be there in five hours.” There was a door slamming in the background and slight heavy breathing, Bitty assumed it was because Bob was running around in a panic, “How are you doing?” He eventually asked. Bitty didn’t answer, “Shitty is coming over soon.”
“Good! That’s good.” A car door slammed and there was more talking in French, they sounded like they were in a car now, “But how are you doing?” he repeated. How was it possible for Bitty to deflect a question when Bob’s voice was so soothing and comforting? Bitty was quiet for a long time. Unsure of how to answer properly, he whispered, “I dropped a pie.”
“Tabarnak,” Bob cursed, and Bitty definitely knew what that meant. He closed his eyes for a second, only for the announcer on the tv’s voice to cut through the brief silence that had fallen over them like a knife, “It appears that they’re bringing the first people off the bus.”
“Dad, they’re getting someone out,” Bitty breathed, scooting closer to the television like that would help at all. The helicopter that was filming the scene zoomed in on the person who was being brought out on a stretcher.
“Who is it?” Bob asked, voice croaky like the words got lodged in his throat on their way out.
“Poots,” Bitty said, hand clutching the phone. He sniffled, “God, he looks awful. His- his face is all-” A few tears slipped down his face.
Bob let him ramble for a moment, “Is he..?” The sentence died on Bob's lips, but that was okay because Bitty knew what he meant, “He’s moving.” He wiped his eyes hard.
He could hear the sigh of relief from Bob, “Kiddo, I don’t really want to leave you alone but just in case Jack gets in touch…”
“I get it. I’ll see you soon.” Bitty was quiet for a long moment, letting the silence stretch between them. Though the line was mostly silent, there was rumbling in the background that alerted Bitty to the fact that Bob had not yet hung up. There was no one news coming from the bus so he and Bob were sitting in silence until he found it in him to speak, “Dad? T-tell Mom I love you both,” he whispered. He was almost positive Bob sniffed, “Sure thing, son. We’ll be there soon. And Eric? We love you too.” He hung up, and Bitty let his phone fall into his lap.
The next people out were team members that Bitty didn’t know well. He knew them, had hung out with them a few times but it wasn’t like they were Tater. Oh god, Tater, Bitty thought and curled up a little more into himself. He needed to call his Mama. He just didn’t know if he’d be able to handle it, but… the thought of not hearing her voice... He hesitated for a moment, fingers stopping over the keypad. If Jack hadn't called by then, he probably wouldn't be. He dialed.
“Dicky!” She gasped out instead of saying her usual, ‘Hello, this is Suzanne Bittle speaking!’. “Honey, I’m so sorry-” and just like that, the floodgates were open. Bitty started sobbing, his shoulders hunched as he cried and cried into the phone. His mama, bless her, spoke softly and comfortingly until he had calmed down enough to choke out, “I’m so scared.”
Speaking it made it seem more real. Like before it was only a terrible nightmare and if he ignored it, if he ignored how he felt then it wouldn’t be happening. The moment those words passed through his lips the horror that was on the screen was solidified as a real event. As much as he wanted to run and hide from it, he no longer could. He covered his face with his hand, though he wasn’t sure why. Maybe it was to try to stop the tears, maybe it was to block out the tv.
“I know, honey,” she whispered, “I know.” Because there was nothing else to say. As he opened his mouth again to speak, the door flew open, and in seconds Shitty was across the living room and hugging Bitty tightly, “Brah, your feet are so sticky.” He murmured against his hair.
Bitty choked out a laugh as he clung to Shitty like he was a lifeline. He had forgotten that he’d stepped in the pie to get to the tv, “Mama’s on the phone, Shits,” he whispered.
“Mama Bittle?!” Shitty yelled after making sure he wasn’t close enough to rupture Bitty’s eardrum.
“Oh, is that Mr. Crappy? Tell him I say hello!” She was quiet for a moment, “Now, Dicky, I’ll text you, okay? Be with your friends, it’ll work out.”
“Okay, Mama,” Bitty said into the phone. Another tear fell, “Love you, Mama.”
“I love you too,” she said back before hanging up.
Lardo was in the kitchen cleaning the pie when Bitty hung up. Despite the situation, Bitty stood, “Oh, Lardo, let me-”
“No can do, Bits,” she shook her head. “Sit your ass down and let Shitty play with your hair, I can take care of this-” She stopped suddenly, her eyes looking past Bitty and at the tv. It looked like she had seen a ghost, and Bitty thought deliriously, that if whoever they were bringing out was dead then maybe she was. The blood in Bitty’s veins turned to ice, “Who is it?” He asked but he thought it sounded more like strangled sounds of nothingness as opposed to actual words. Shitty was looking now too, but Bitty couldn’t move.
“Tater,” Jack always sat next to Tater, “Bitty, it’s-”
He couldn’t take it anymore. He turned towards the tv only to wish he hadn’t. He wished he could look away and forget because it was awful. Tater didn’t even look like the same person anymore, not with his swollen face that was covered in blood. His shirt was missing, probably because it had been cut away. This put the wounds he’d sustained on display, including one that looked particularly deep. His arm was also laying at an unnatural angle, but the worst part was his leg. It was horrible to the point where Bitty had to look away.
“Fuck, Bitty, I don’t-”
“It doesn’t look- he doesn't look like he’s-” He fell against Shitty.
“They probably wouldn’t have taken him out if he was…” Shitty winced at his words, he knew he wasn’t being too helpful, but not even he could make this better with comic relief. However, Eric supposed he was right. They watched in silence as Tater was put into the ambulance and driven away. Bitty wondered how they were supposed to get everyone who was on the bus to the hospital when they were taking one or two people at a time. Wouldn’t they run out of ambulances eventually? His mind was bouncing around so much, from one thought to the next that it was hard to keep everything straight. It was like ping pong.
“Jack always sits next to Tater,” Bitty whispered, finally sticking onto one clear thought, “On the outside. He would’ve been on the outside. Why didn’t they- why didn’t they get Jack first?” He was getting hysterical.
“We don’t know what’s going on, maybe Tater was worse or something,” Shitty sat on the couch, pulling Bitty into his lap. It was comforting to be in someone’s arms, even if he really wished that those arms were Jack’s. Shitty was a different sort of comfort, he wasn’t a firm as Jack was, especially since he’d been out of hockey for a few years, but his becoming a little softer just made Shitty that much better for cuddling. Despite the slight comfort found in Shitty’s arms, Bitty couldn't stop thinking about how awful this all was. Waiting was the absolute worst and every second that ticked by was another second more of not knowing.
The silence was deafening as they waited on more information to come. The seconds felt like they were moving by incredibly slow, and each minute felt like an hour. Bitty wasn’t facing the tv when the announcer's voice finally came through the speakers and he nearly jumped out of his skin, “They’re coming out with someone else now, and-” Bitty turned to look at the tv and the world dropped off. He was focused on one thing, and one thing only.
It was Jack.
Jack Jack Jack Jack.
He felt Shitty stiffen underneath him, thought he heard Lardo’s gasp. Jack didn’t look worse than Tater. None of his limbs were wrapped up like the other’s, nor did they look broken, but his eyes were closed and there was blood all over his head, face, and chest. And… was that something sticking out of his stomach?
Bitty leaped off of Shitty and ran to the bathroom to get sick.
A lot happened over the next few hours. He was called by the hospital Jack was being admitted to, the Falconers organization (who confirmed that there were no fatalities though many people were in critical condition), and every one of his SMH friends, including a few people he only half knew. He was not expecting a second call from the hospital not five minutes after the original call about Jack, he immediately expected the worst, “Hello?”
“Yes, Mr. Bittle, hello again. It appears that you’re Alexei Mashkov’s emergency contact?”
Bitty blinked, “I-I am? I mean, uh, yeah, I am.”
“He’s also in surgery. He’s critical but the doctors are hopeful that he’ll make it through this.”
He sniffed, aggressively wiping his eyes, “Okay, thanks,” He whispered. “Is there any way he and Jack can be in the same room together when they get out of surgery?
“No, I’m so sorry but they need to recover separately. I apologize for cutting this short but I have other calls to make.” They hung up, leaving Bitty to stare forward at nothing. Everything was happening so fast, and he wasn’t sure how it was going to be possible to keep up with it all.
Just to drive home how fast things really were moving, Shitty, Lardo, and Bitty were on their way to Connecticut only a few minutes after the call from the hospital, and the only reason they’d waited that long was that they didn’t know where Jack was being taken to. And even knowing where Jack was, they were still in the dark quite a bit. The hospital hadn’t told them much, only that Jack and Tater were in surgery, but they wouldn’t say for what. Bitty wanted to be angry, but in their defense, they did just have an entire hockey team dropped off at their door.
Bitty texted the family group chat that had both sets of parents, himself and Jack, trying to keep them in the loop as much as possible, but that was hard when there was no information to give. He apologized to Bob and Alicia for not waiting for them, but they said they hadn’t expected, nor wanted, him to.
In the end, the drive took about an hour and a half and had Bitty on edge the entire time.
When they got to the hospital, the first thing Bitty noticed was the smell. Sterile and almost metallic, it was so overwhelming that he stumbled a little as they crossed the threshold. Shitty put a hand on his back to steady him, “You good, dude?” He questioned. Bitty didn’t answer, because no, he wasn’t okay but Shitty shouldn’t be too worried about him. He ended up giving him a small nod.
The second thing he noticed was the lack of people. He’d thought it would be packed full with the family of the Falconers, but besides the three of them, there were only a handful of people that he recognized. Later, he learned that they had to send some people to different hospitals to stop any single one from getting too overwhelmed. Part of him wanted to help comfort them, or at least share in their pain together, but the bigger part of him wanted to retreat into his shell and not come back out for days.
Every hour, on the hour, one of them was asking for updates. Jack had been in surgery for three hours, with, they finally told him, some pretty extensive wounds to his torso from broken glass. There had been some shrapnel, and that’s what they'd been able to see sticking out of Jack when he had been taken off the bus. Tater, meanwhile, didn’t have cuts nearly as bad as Jack’s, had a broken arm and leg. His leg-break was severe, so severe in fact, it was career-ending. He also had been in surgery for a while. Bitty wanted to scream. This was hard enough when he was just in charge of Jack, but Jack and Tater? He was fried. The good news was that after Jack got out of surgery, they would be able to see him, so hopefully, he got out soon. Shitty listened to all the new information and furiously texted Bob and Alicia who were almost to the hospital. Bitty just didn’t have the energy to keep everyone informed.
All of a sudden there was a skip in reality. Not so much a dip and spin, like when Bitty had heard about the accident or watched Jack being taken from the bus, it was a skip. One moment he was watching Shitty type, the next, he had reached over to Shitty and grabbed onto his arm to stop from falling over. Oh, well, maybe he was dizzy. Shitty caught him, “I’ve got you, brah,” He said, moving Bitty over to a nearby chair, where he promptly curled in on himself and started crying again.
“How could this have happened?” He choked out, “I don’t understand-”
Shitty sighed, pressing a kiss to the top of Bitty’s head. “I don’t fucking know,” he murmured against Bitty’s hair. “I have no fucking clue.” Shitty was angry and upset too, but was managing to hold it together for Bitty, but if Bitty hadn’t been there? He would be a total mess. When he and Lardo were alone (whenever that may be), they would work through everything together. They’d gotten very good at reading each other and knowing exactly what the other needed. But that didn’t matter, not until they knew that things would be sort of okay.
A whole hour later, the boys were still in surgery. Bitty had been under the impression that they’d be over soon, and that expectation had started making him antsy. Reporters had started to arrive, making it difficult for Bob and Alicia to get inside, and unfortunately, their arrival only solidified everyone’s previous suspicions of Jack, and some of the other players’, locations. They had shouted at them, asking about Jack’s condition, if he was even still alive. They were lucky Bob was so drained.
“Son-” Bob couldn't finish what he was going to say before Bitty was throwing himself into his arms and crying once again. Alicia wrapped herself around the two of them. They stood there for a moment, all three crying before Bob extended a hand to Lardo and Shitty, who both gladly joined the hug. It was the first time Shitty had allowed himself to cry since hearing the news. They must have been quite a sight, standing there in the middle of the waiting room, a large pile of sobbing people. Bob and Alicia looked awful, how they’d managed to get bags so big without missing any real sleep could probably be considered an art form. Neither of them were dressed as they usually would be, in fact, Alicia was wearing sweatpants. The fact that those sweatpants cost more than some of Jack’s full suits meant nothing.
When they finally parted, after a very long, much-needed group hug, Bitty’s phone buzzed again. It was so tempting to just ignore it, it’d been going off for hours, but Bitty just couldn't bring himself to do that. It could be important. He had been getting messages all day, though Shitty had been fielding most of the ones from the SMH group chat, so the rest were from his parents or people that didn’t need a response. He was not expecting a twitter DM notification from Kent Parson. They had started following each other on Twitter after they'd had that talk at the Haus. Bitty liked to look at the pictures of his cat.
‘This isn’t my place but is Zimms okay?’ It read. Bitty stared at it for a long time, so long that Shitty put his hand on his shoulder to get him to react, “I- sorry,” he whispered. He took a slow breath, thinking hard about what he wanted to say. What if Kent went and said something to the press? No, he was a lot of things, but he wouldn’t do something like that. He sent back, ‘Haven’t seen him yet but he’s stable’. It seemed good enough for now, he didn’t want to go into it more.
The group fell into an uncertain silence for the next few minutes, until a doctor walked out. “Eric Bittle?” she asked. Eric stood up so fast he got a little dizzy. “Yes?” he said breathlessly. “Is he okay? Can we see him?”
“He’s stable, yes,” she nodded. “Follow me, please.”
Bitty gestured for everyone to follow but Shitty shook his head, “You three go ahead, we’ll wait for you here.” He gave Bitty a reassuring smile. Bitty didn’t want to leave them alone, but realistically they all wouldn’t be able to go into the room anyway, so Bitty, Bob, and Alicia followed the doctor further into the hospital.
“His injuries weren’t as bad as we thought they were going to be,” The doctor said as gently as she could manage. They were overwhelmed, she had more patients, “He got very lucky with the hit to his head, we thought he was going to have a bad concussion, but it seems to be only mild, though there is a cut to his temple. He has a few other cuts from what we assume was glass. No broken limbs but a few cracked ribs. The worst of his injuries happened to his abdomen. Glass from the windows lodged in his side, missing most vital organs, but the wound is deep. There were a lot of other shallower cuts that required stitches but not as much care as the one did.”
Bitty was looking straight ahead, trying desperately to keep it together. This didn’t sound too bad. Jack was okay, he was okay. “We’re most worried about internal bleeding, so he’ll continue to be monitored for a few days.” They stopped in front of a wooden door that was opened for them to be able to go inside. Bitty didn’t look in, “And Alexei Mashkov?”
The doctor took a slow breath, “He had a compound fracture, his leg is shattered. He’s still in surgery for it, but the road to recovery is going to be very long and difficult. A lot of days in bed, wheelchairs, crutches. His arm wasn’t broken as bad and should heal in a matter of months. We believe he has a concussion, but we haven’t been able to run the test just yet. We should know soon. All his cuts were minor.”
Bob put a hand on Bitty’s shoulder, no doubt thinking what Bitty was. Tater was never going to skate again. “Thank you,” he said to the doctor. “We know you’re busy,”
The doctor nodded, “If you have any questions don’t hesitate to ask.” She gave a small, sad smile, then turned and left. Bitty watched her leave because it was an excuse not to have to face the hospital room just to the left of him. Once she was out of sight, it took Bitty a long time to start moving again. He felt numb, like this was all just a horrible dream and he would wake up soon, he had to. Bob squeezed his shoulder gently. “We should go in,” he whispered.
Bitty’s eyes welled with tears and before he could stop himself he said, “How did you do it?” It came out strangled, like the words got caught in his throat and refused to dislodge. It wasn’t fair to bring up the overdose, not now, not when things were like this. He supposed he just needed to know how they had survived it all.
“It wasn’t easy,” Alicia sighed softly. “We went through the motions, tried our hardest to be strong for Jack.” She let out a long breath, tilting her head back for a second. “The worst part was that first day,” she admitted. “Seeing him in the bed… I don’t think it’ll be too different now. This might… be worse.” She quickly wiped her eyes, steeling herself. Bitty reached over so he could hold her hand tight. It was grounding, the next best thing to having his mother there with him. They stood there a moment, trying to work up the courage to walk in but n the end, Bob made the first move. He passed through the threshold of the door, trying not to have too much of a reaction, but he failed pretty miserably at it. Blinking a few times to try to stop himself from crying did next to nothing, in fact, it only made his tears fall.
Jack was pale, nearly the same color as the sheets around him. He had a tube in his nose, an IV in his arm, and some weird monitor on his finger, which filled the room with the steady sound of a heart monitor. At least that was mildly comforting. He was wearing one of those terrible hospital gowns, which meant they couldn’t see the extent of the injuries to his chest, but his face was covered in light scratches, except for one above his left eyebrow that was being held together by glue.
When Bitty walked into the room he roughly wiped his eyes. Up until then he’d been able to pretend that it wasn’t that bad, that what the nurses and doctors were telling him was worse than it actually was to prepare him for the real thing, and really, compared to what he was thinking, it wasn’t so bad, but Jack just looked so… there really was no way to describe it.
He shuffled over to the bed, plopping into the chair closest to Jack. “When do you think he’ll wake up?” he asked Bob and Alicia softly.
Alicia’s eyes were red with tears, but unlike Bob, she wasn’t trying to stop them. “Soon since he got out of surgery a bit ago.”
“Okay,” Bitty whispered, slipping his hand into Jack’s. It was weird to hold his hand but not to feel him hold it back. His skin felt cold, clammy, and it was doing nothing to help expel those ‘worst-case scenarios’ from Bitty’s mind. He wiped his eyes with his free hand, “Now do we just… wait?”
“I’m going to talk to Shitty,” Bob said, staring at Jack’s face. “It’ll be a few minutes yet and he should know what’s going on.” He kissed the top of Jack’s head, lingering there for a minute before he left. Though dealing with his grief, it was killing Bitty to see everyone so upset and it just made him feel more powerless.
“I-I wish I hadn’t dropped that pie,” he whispered, almost delirious. Because pie would have been how he fixed all of this, right? It just made sense that if he had the pie he could give it to people and maybe it could help to cheer people up. It was a ridiculous notion, one that was half baked and came out of such horrible sadness. He looked at Jack, eyes trailing over each of his features, lingering on the cut above his eyebrow. Without even being aware of it, a tear slipped down Bitty’s cheek.
Alicia started to move to Bitty’s side to comfort him when Jack’s hand weakly curled around Bitty’s. Bitty sat up a little straighter, “Jack? Jack!” He squeezed the other’s hand impossibly tight. Jack cracked an eye open though it seemed like it was taking all his effort, “Why’re you crying?” His voice was croaky. “Am I really that unattractive?”
Bitty’s mouth dropped open and closed like he was a fish. “Did you just- Jack! I can’t believe you!” He shook his head but he was smiling, crying relieved tears. Alicia had placed herself on Jack’s other side, holding his hand, “Jack, baby-” she smiled weakly. “You really do look that bad.”
Jack tried to laugh but it came out as a wheeze, followed by a cough and a pained hiss. He squeezed his eyes shut, “Tabarnak.” He squeezed Bitty’s hand much harder than he intended to, and once he had calmed down, the three of them fell into silence until Jack spoke up, “What happened?” he whispered. The happiness that had settled over the room just a couple seconds ago shattered like glass.
There was silence for a long time, neither Alicia nor Bitty sure of what to say. Finally, Bitty started carefully, “What do you remember?”
“Well, there was… Tater and I were fighting because…” His tongue darted over his lips, his mouth felt like he’d eaten a dozen cotton balls, “He took my seat. Wouldn’t move.” He squeezed his eyes shut, his breath started picking up, “There was- there was a loud noise and the driver breaked-” He opened his eyes, they were wild, manic, “Fuck. The team, Bitty-” He tried to sit up but Alicia jumped up to gently push him back down, “Jack, you can’t move.”
“Maman, the team!” He looked at her desperately, his breath coming in short gasps, “The bus it-”
Bitty gently shook Jack’s hand, “Sweetpea, honey, everyone is alive; you all made it off the bus,” he spoke gently, hoping that he was able to keep the shaking out of his voice. Everyone made it off but not everyone was in once piece. Rumors were floating around, and while they were all trying their best to ignore them, Bitty had heard that one of the players lost a couple of fingers. Still all rumors but scary nonetheless. Jack made a pained sound, “You didn’t say they’re all okay.”
“I don’t know how everyone else is doing. I’ve been focused on you.” Bitty carefully cupped Jack's cheek trying to get him to calm down, to focus on something else, like a hand on his cheek.
It didn’t really help, Jack’s eyes were still wild and wide, and he was looking at Bitty with a desperation that Bitty had never seen on a person, “You’re Tater’s emergency contact. He told me so, Bitty-” Jack gripped at him, “Tell me he’s okay.”
Saying that would be lying, wouldn’t it? Tater wasn’t okay, he’d never play hockey again but Jack didn’t need that right then, he needed to be calm and focus on himself. Bitty chewed his lip, “Tater’s fine, J-”
“You’re an awful liar,” He said weakly, “Bitty- I-”
“His leg is broken. I haven’t seen him yet because I was waiting for you to wake up.” He kissed the back of Jack’s hand, watching his face as he processed what Bitty had just said to him, “How bad?”
There was no point trying to hide it now, “Really bad,” he whispered. Jack’s breath shuddered out of him, and Bitty wished he could hold him until the hurt went away. Despite the pain the news had caused Jack, it seemed to satisfy him, as he went quiet, just staring up at the ceiling.
Things were silent save the soft beeping and whirring of the machines hooked up to Jack until Bob made his way back, “Shitty and Larissa went to go get- Citron!” Bob grinned when he saw him, but his smile quickly went away upon feeling the tension in the room. He slid up beside Alicia, “How do you feel?” he asked Jack quietly. Jack closed his eyes slowly, “What have you heard? Anything?”
Bitty looked at Bob with pleading eyes, silently begging him not to tell Jack what was going on. “Sorry, Jack, I haven’t heard anything.” He gently squeezed Jack’s shoulder. “How do you feel?” he repeated.
It looked like the wheels in Jack’s head were turning, but very slowly. Bitty couldn't imagine what was happening in his brain; he must’ve been in so much pain. “Papa, I’m-” Jack breathed out slowly, closing his eyes. “I feel fine. It hurts but… but it feels fine.” Not long after, a nurse came in to check on them. Jack asked question after question, but she didn’t answer any of them.
Eventually, she left, and Jack looked at Bitty, “Bits,” he whispered, “will you go see Tater?”
Bitty’s breath hitched and he shook his head, “No, I can’t- I don’t want to leave you, Jack, I-” his eyes welled with tears, “don't ask me to, please.”
Guilt sat hot and heavy in Jack’s gut. Guilt for what he was asking Bitty to do, guilt for swapping seats with Tater, for making his parents fly down from Montreal. He looked at Bitty, “I’m- I need to know,” his voice cracked.
Bitty leaned forward, placing his head on Jack’s forearm for a long moment. “Okay,” he finally choked out. “Yeah, okay, sweetpea.” He pulled away, clinging to his hand for as long as he could before finally letting go. He glanced over at Bob and Alicia, who met his gaze. They looked apologetic, and Bitty quickly looked away. He didn’t know why he was so uncomfortable, but he was. Maybe he was angry that he felt so awful going to check on one of his closest friends. He should want to know how Tater was doing, shouldn’t he? His eyes were trained on the floor as he left the room.
Bitty wandered for a while before finding someone who could tell him where Tater’s room was. It wasn’t far from Jack’s which seemed like a small blessing in all of this mess. Though the walk wasn’t all that long, it felt like miles. Every step took him further away from Jack even though all he wanted to do was stay by his side.
He tried to distract himself by looking at his phone. It was a ridiculous notion since there were updates and texts about the accident. He should have known better. However, buried in all his notifications, were a few messages from Parse.
‘At least he’s stable’
‘There’s already talks of a disaster draft, is it really that bad?’
‘Someone died? Who died?’
Bitty’s heart started beating so fast he couldn't think right. Someone died. Who died? He looked through the Falconers’ Partners group chat, and no one was saying anything about that. There were a lot of updates about injuries… Bitty really needed to tell them what was happening. Finally, he saw it. A little while ago it was confirmed the bus driver had passed away. Bitty was disgusted by the wave of relief that went through his body when he read it. It wasn’t a Falconer, the team was okay. But they had had the same driver for years; he practically was a team member. He wanted to throw his phone across the room and scream.
After what felt like hours, he made it to Tater’s room but like with Jack, he was afraid to go in. Tater was probably worse than Jack or, at the very least, he would look like he was worse. Bitty wasn’t sure he was ready to face that, so, he took the time to compose a message to Parse, ‘Pretty out of the loop, I guess, I haven’t heard many of the rumors. None of the team members died, the driver did (and if you leak that I will never forgive you). I haven’t heard about the rest of the team for the most part. Jack’s a lot better than they originally thought’
He reread it a few times, trying to decide if it was worth it to send, but ignoring Kent was rude, so he pressed the button. He took a breath, it felt good to get it off his chest, even if it was only a little bit. Feeling just a little better, he pushed open Tater’s door.
Tater looked so much worse than Jack did. He had a few more deep cuts on his face than Jack, one on the right eyebrow and one along his right cheekbone. His leg was in a cast that was being suspended from the ceiling by wires. It looked awful. His arm was in a regular cast, which meant he was able to move it, and that, at least, was good. Bitty had been afraid it would be as bad as the doctor made his leg seem.
At the sound of the door opening, Tater opened his eyes, “Little B-” There was a tiredness behind the nickname that Bitty had never heard before, it made him sick to his stomach. “You come and visit me, Zimmboni not good enough for you now?” It looked like a lightbulb went off in his head, “Jack is okay?”
“Yeah, Tater. He’s better than you anyway,” he tried to tease, but his voice broke and it just came out flat. “Sorry,” he whispered, moving to sit beside Tater taking the hand that wasn’t a cast in his own. Bitty always marveled at the size of Tater’s hands. Jack’s were big but Tater’s were massive. It was an odd thing to notice, he supposed, given their current situation. “You doing okay?” Bitty winced. What was he thinking? Obviously Tater wasn’t okay.
There was a soft snort, “Am doing okay?” Tater looked at Bitty, “Doctors have been in and out. I know what has happened-” He shook his head a little bit then looked away. Bitty had never seen Tater so drained. “They say I will be lucky to be able to walk without pain after this. I never skate again.” His voice cracked, and Bitty started crying again.
Standing, he hugged Tater as carefully as he dared, “I’m so sorry, Tater,” he whispered.
Tater used his one good arm to hug Bitty back. Bitty knew by the way his shoulders were shaking that Tater was crying as well. He didn’t know what to do, so he just held him tight and didn’t say anything. Sometimes that’s all that was needed. Eventually, Tater let his arm drop signaling he was done with the hug, and Bitty leaned away from him. Bitty sat back, taking a long breath. “I feel bad leaving you here. I asked if you and Jack could share a room but they told me no,” he sniffed and wiped his eyes.
“Is not a worry, Itty Bitty, I will be just fine,” he promised. “You come and see me when you can,” he gave him a reassuring smile. “Oh! Take video with me, you show Jack.” That seemed like a really good idea to Bitty, so he pulled his phone out and shifted so they could both be in the video. He started recording.
“Jack! B tells me I look much better than you. This is no surprise though. Everyone knows I am his favorite.” Tater was still more subdued than he usually was, but he seemed to be trying. God, he was trying for Jack.
Bitty wanted to cry but he just smiled, “That isn’t at all what I said!”
“Is what I heard!” Tater insisted. “I am fine. I will be coming to see you in no time. Well, you’ll be coming to see me. I’m not moving much but is okay! When I move in with you you’ll have no choice but to visit with me every day!”
Bitty gaped, “Wait just a second, Tater, whoever said anything about-”
“I did! I say it and now it is on video. Cannot be taken back.” He grinned at the camera and used his good hand to wave, “I be seeing you soon, Zimmboni.”
Bitty ended the video. “Thanks, Tater,” he said. “I think this’ll help him.”
Tater nodded, “Of course. I do anything for my captain.” He smiled at Bitty, but it slowly slipped off of his face. It was heartbreaking. If Bitty could take away Tater and Jack’s pain, he’d do it in a heartbeat. They were two of the best people he knew, it just wasn’t fair.
“Do you want me to tell him how bad your leg is?” Bitty whispered.
Tater fell silent for a long time before nodding a little, “Is probably for the best.”
Slowly, Bitty stood. He leaned over, pressing a kiss to the top of Tater’s head, “I’ll come back, and I’m sure Bob and Alicia will stop in. Maybe even Shitty.” Tater didn’t really respond and leaving felt like a betrayal.
He stayed for a beat longer than he probably should have before making his way back to Jack’s room. As he walked between rooms, Bitty checked his phone again. There were more updates about the team that Bitty largely ignored, and there were more DMs from Kent. He took a deep breath and looked.
‘Sorry about the driver. This whole thing is a mess’
‘It would be bad if I came out there, right?’
Bitty rubbed his temples, Kent was going to kill him. The stress of this day was going to kill him. Lacking the energy it took to be his ‘charming southern self’ Bitty sent back a single word answer: Yes
He turned his phone to airplane mode. If Mama or Coach wanted to get in touch with him they could call Alicia or Bob, maybe even Shitty. He’d already been ignoring them more than he should have been but they were handling it okay so they had to have been in contact with someone.
Having answered all the people he felt obligated to respond to, Bitty turned his phone to airplane mode. He was just thinking about how to break the news of Tater’s leg to Jack, not really paying attention to the things around him. Not until he got close to Jack’s room and high pitched beeping cut through his subconscious like a knife. He jogged the last few feet, his mind going to the worst-case scenario; there was internal bleeding and Jack was coding or whatever the hell they called it in all those hospital shows.
He turned into the room hard, chest heaving and eyes wild until they landed on Jack. It was chaos; the heart monitor was beeping loudly and too quickly, the nurse from earlier was trying to push Jack onto his back while Alicia was trying to get him to breathe regularly. Bitty couldn’t breathe for a second. There was just so much happening, however, Jack was alive, and his brain latched onto that for a second. His relief lasted a second. Bitty was pretty sure Jack was having a panic attack, though he’d ever seen one so bad.
Bitty jumped out of his skin when Bob put a hand on his shoulder, “He’s having a panic attack. It happened so fast, I’ve never seen him like this-”
“I can help!” Bitty said desperately. “Holding him down isn’t gonna- Bob, you know this!” he grabbed Bob’s arm. Bob sighed, “Eric, I’m not the one who made this call, the nursing staff-”
Bitty ran over to Jack, sneaking under Alicia’s arms, “Hey, sweetpea?” He had never seen Jack so bad. Jack’s body was tense almost like he was seizing up, it looked like he couldn't breathe and his whole body was shaking. Bitty knew Jack’s abdomen was torn up pretty good, but he could still sit on his thighs, so that’s what he did. From under Alicia’s arm, he crawled up onto Jack, being careful to avoid any injuries. “Jack, sweetpea.” He grabbed Jack’s hands, leaning up a little bit to see him better.
That fucking nurse was in the way. “Move,” he growled, scaring both himself and the nurse. He hadn’t even been aware he could make a sound like that. She looked hesitant but moved to the side.
“Sweetpea,” Bitty said softly, “Jack, honey, I’m right here. You’re okay,” he whispered. He was trying to do everything he knew would help Jack calm down. “Color,” Bitty said.
Jack managed to strangle out, “Blue,” and Bitty started naming all the things in the room he could find that were blue. Slowly, Jack started to calm down, listening to Bitty talk about mundane things. Eventually, he was only shaking slightly, and Bitty allowed himself to sit back, still on Jack’s thighs. He breathed slowly, his shoulders slumping, “How you doing, honey?”
“Better now,” he whispered, reaching out to put a hand on Bitty’s hip. Immediately, Bitty set his hand on top of Jack’s slipping their fingers together. The nurse was standing off to the side, looking unsure of herself, “Do you… need anything?” she asked softly. Bitty nodded, “Water.”
They watched her leave, and when she was gone, Alicia smoothed the hair on Jack’s forehead. Bitty had never seen Jack so bad and that did not bode well for his future mental state. Maybe watching that video from Tater would help keep his mind off things… then again… probably best to wait. Those first few minutes the panic subsided were important, and Jack was always a little more delicate.
“Do you want me to stay here or should I get up?” he asked, referring to his position on Jack’s lap. Jack swallowed, “Stay.” So Bitty did.
The nurse came and went, Bitty stayed. Jack went silent, just staring off into space, and Bitty stayed. Bob and Alicia went to find a hotel for all of them (even though the last thing Bitty wanted to do was to leave), he stayed. He sat on Jack’s thighs, neither of them speaking for a very, very long time. Jack had moved his hands from Bitty’s waist to his thighs and occasionally would curl his fingers in a way that Bitty knew meant he was trying not to spiral. He felt so helpless.
Once they were alone Jack finally spoke again, “Bitty, I need to know,”
“I know.” He reached down and held Jack’s hand tight. “There have been updates in the group chat all day, I’m sure I can find out about most everyone through that. I haven’t said anything yet but I should let them know you and Tater are okay.” He sighed, the breath leaving him all at once and leaving him deflated. He wanted to cry. He was so tired.
“Start with Tater,” Jack said firmly. “You know what’s happened.”
“I do,” Bitty held Jack’s hand tighter. “Honey, he’s... He’s never going to play hockey again.”
The noise that came out of Jack… Bitty would never forget it. It was a strangled noise that got caught up in his throat and mingled into a cry. They were still holding hands, so Bitty squeezed Jack’s reassuringly as tears started rolling down his cheeks. “I was supposed to be sitting there, Bits,” he choked out. “It was… we were joking around. That was my seat.” Bitty had already thought of this. He thought of it extensively and every way possible. That could have been Jack sitting in the next room over unable to walk, never able to skate again. It would have killed him, and that… Bitty closed his eyes for a moment, reigning his thoughts back in. It seemed Jack needed a moment, and Bitty let him have it.
“What else do you know?”
“The bus driver… he didn’t make it.”
Jack stared blankly at Bitty for a long time. It was the most unnerving thing Bitty had ever seen, this wasn’t Jack. This wasn’t his Jack. He tried to focus but it was starting to get hard, near impossible.
“He’s dead? Orlando is…”
“I’m so sorry, Jack,” he whispered. “I don’t know more than that. I wish I could tell you more but I-” He wasn’t sure he wanted to know. All the Falconers had such horrible injuries, he couldn't imagine what Orlando’s must’ve been like.
“The team,” Jack sounded so far away, Bitty wasn’t sure if it was because Jack was zoning out or if he was. “The team is… they’re okay?”
“I don’t know. I should… I can check.” He finally took his phone off of airplane mode and it exploded to life in his hand. He cursed, setting it to the side to let it do its thing, “I just want it to all stop,” Bitty whispered, throat closing with tears. “I want it to be over with I-” He immediately felt guilty. He wasn’t the one lying in a hospital bed. He wasn’t the one whose career was over. Who was he to wish that things were different?
His admission seemed to stir something in Jack though, as he shook his head. “I know,” he reached up, cupping Bitty’s cheek. It looked like it hurt, and Bitty remembered his ribs were cracked. The panic attack must have been excruciating. “You’re being so strong for me, thank you, bud. But you don’t have to be. It’s okay.”
Bitty’s shoulders slumped forward as he curled in on himself and started sobbing for what felt like the millionth time that day. He wanted to be better for Jack. He wanted to be able to care for both of them but he wasn’t strong enough. He wasn’t- He could feel Jack wiping away his tears, whispering words of encouragement and love. It made Bitty want to crawl out of his skin. He didn’t deserve that.
Eventually, he forced himself to calm down. He could do this later when he was alone in his hotel room… God, that sounded awful. He turned his head so he could press a gentle kiss on Jack’s palm. He sighed out slowly, “Sorry,” he said against his skin.
“You don’t have anything to be sorry for,” Jack whispered back.
Bitty grabbed his phone, ready to go through the texts in his group chats. At least he was going to have Jack with him for this. As hard as it might be for Jack, they’d at least have each other, and that would make it a little easier. He scrolled through the notifications first, trying to decide where to start, and there was again another message from Parse. All this one said was ‘I hope he heals quick’. That was a good message, Bitty wouldn’t have to respond to a text like that.
“You probably have hundreds of texts,” Jack whispered. Bitty nodded, “I haven’t checked my phone in hours but even before that I wasn’t really responding.” He was quiet for a moment, “Kent texted. He said he hoped you get better fast.”
Jack snorted, “I’m sure he does.” He sighed, looking at Bitty’s phone, “How are the boys handling this?” By that Bitty knew he meant the Samwell team.
Bitty didn’t have a clue. He knew how Shitty and Lardo were but he’d ignored everyone else’s texts and calls since the news had first broken. He shrugged, “I don’t know.” Slowly, Bitty slid off of Jack’s lap so they could look at the texts side by side. Jack was right, there were hundreds.
He pulled up their SMH chat and scrolled back a ways to see what was being said. There were a lot of panicked texts from when things had first happened, most of the original ones directed at Jack, but when Jack didn’t respond, towards Bitty. Bitty didn’t take much time to read those, he instead scrolled to when they got to the hospital. Shitty had been sending all the updates they got because Bitty just hadn’t had the energy. Everyone was expressing their worry, their support.
“I don’t want to- I get the point,” Jack whispered. Bitty backed out of the chat, “We should send them a picture,” He murmured, leaning up to press a careful kiss to Jack’s cheek. “I mean, you don’t look that bad.” He was able to get the tease out, and he was very proud of himself. Jack managed a smile, and Bitty considered it a win. “Not that bad, eh? Okay, I’m sure there are worse pictures of me out there.”
It wasn’t so rare now that Jack and Bitty took selfies together. They took them rather often, really, and usually on Bitty’s insistence, but this was different. Everything about it felt… off. Wrong. Still, Bitty shifted until they were both at decent angles before taking the picture. Jack looked so washed out, ghostly pale and sickly but he was alive, and well, that’s the most Bitty could ask for right then. Bitty looked exhausted and nearly as bad as Jack. He needed to get some sleep. “What should we say?” he asked. “Or should we just send the picture?”
Jack mulled it over a moment, “What’s the meme? The one with the guy in the coma? Shitty showed it to me a while ago.”
Bitty blinked a few times. “You mean the ‘I lived bitch’ one?”
“Yes! That,” Jack smiled. “Do that,” he decided, and so Bitty did. There it was, a picture of the two of them with the accompanying ‘I lived bitch’ text. The team was going to lose their minds.
Holster
JAk JAXK JACK JACK
BRO HOLY FUCK WAS THAT A MEME REFRENCE
Lardo
Did our fearless rock lord just quote a meme at us? After getting into an insane accident????? How hard did you hit your head????
Chowder
Jack! I’m so glad you’re okay! We’ve been so worried about you!
Ransom
JACK MUST HAVE A CONCUSSION IF HE’S USING MEMES AT US
And I mean this in the best way, because you’re my Canadian bro, but you look like shit
Shitty
JACK LIGHT OF MY LIFE, CANADIAN DREAMBOAT, DO NOT LISTEN TO A FUCKING WORD RANSOM SAYS YOU ARE AS BEAUTIFUL AS EVER. IN THE WORDS OF KEANU REEVES: YOU ARE BREATHTAKING. FUCKING STUNNING.
At the very least the texts were making Jack smile. Bitty smiled a little as well, but he couldn't bring it in himself to really enjoy it all, there were still so many unanswered questions and… He sighed but when Jack asked about it, he passed it off as nothing. Because it wasn’t anything he wanted Jack to help with. Bitty was about to suggest they read the texts about the other players when they heard talking up the hall. Very loud, very Shitty talking. There was plenty of warning before Shitty burst into the room, people on the floors above and below them probably would have been able to hear him coming, “Holy fuck, look at you, you beautiful bastard.” He walked over, planting a big kiss on Jack’s cheek.
“Hey, Shits,” Jack smiled a little and reached up to squeeze Shitty’s arm in greeting. “How are you doing?”
“How am I doing? How the fuck are you?” Shitty sat down next to Jack. Lardo shuffled in and sat beside Bitty; he was grateful for her silence. More than just Shitty talking at once would be too overwhelming. She held Bitty’s hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. For a while, Shitty and Jack spoke, and Bitty was grateful for the break.
He startled when Shitty loudly announced they were departing,.“You too, Bits, visiting hours are over. We’ll be able to come back later.”
Bitty frowned, “What? I don’t want to-”
“No arguments. Mama and Papa Zimmermann have gotten us rooms at a nearby hotel for the next few days. Say goodbye, we gotta go.”
Jack turned to look at Bitty, “I’ll see you in the morning, Bits. I’ll be okay,” he promised. Bitty chewed his lip but nodded. It wasn’t like he had a choice. “Okay,” he whispered, standing to press a kiss to Jack’s temple and then his lips. “I love you.”
“I love you too,” Jack kissed back easily. “Take care of yourself, okay?”
“Yeah, okay,” Bitty pulled away and was ushered out by Shitty, who must’ve known he would’ve stood there if he wasn’t being brought along by force. “Wait!” he said when they got into the hall, “Tater. I have to say goodbye.” He hurried down the hall to where Tater was already asleep. The drugs they had given him were strong, Bitty knew. He hurried over, kissing Tater’s temple, “See you tomorrow, Tater,” he whispered before leaving the hospital with Lardo and Shitty practically dragging him out.