Chapter Text
Kent felt the cool tiles pressing into his skin as he kneeled over Jack's body, hot tears streamed down his face as he tried to keep a steady rhythm of chest compressions. His phone had clacked to the ground as soon as he was done frantically calling 991... and Alicia. Something about the cool bathroom lights cast an ominous tone to Jack's skin, like he was already dead and the panicked CPR was doing fuck all in saving his best friend.
Caught up in his harried labored breathing and movement he almost didn't catch that Jack's eyes were open, that his blood-stained lips were moving in noiseless words.
Kent almost didn't realize his own lips had moved.
Somehow he knew what was spoken.
"I missed you."
"You always say that."
Something inside Kent broke again, the words were familiar, a refrain that had been bouncing in his head ever since that stupid night he decided to screw things up even worse.
Everything around him felt like it had come to a standstill and then medics were bursting into the too-small bathroom. Quickly, Kent was pulled away from him, and the corpse (because what else could it be now, its skin was too cold to the touch and its eyes were too dim) was placed on a gurney.
And beyond all reason, that corpse turned its head to look at Kent.
" Leave, Parse ."
Kent shot up in bed gasping for breath and scaring the shit out of Kit who had been peacefully sleeping next to him. Clutching at the blanket he had nearly kicked off the bed he tried to calm his racing heart and mind.
Apparently, he had taken so long that Kit had found a new place to sleep before he finally gained control of his breathing. He groaned, rubbing a palm against his left temple he grabbed his phone from the side table to check the time.
5:37am, "Great." Kent grumbled softly to himself, too late to go back to sleep but too early to actually do anything other than wallow in his own puddle of self pity.
Seven years now of nightmares, of being thrown back to being 18 and so so out of his depth. But now they were intermixed with the two times Kent had seen Jack since he got out of rehab and coaching. Both of those meetings were mistakes and forever seared into his mind.
This is what he gets for not firing his shitty therapist sooner after 4 years of BS. Honestly Kent wasn't sure why he didn't drop her sooner, she was the one to encourage him to go see Jack in person both times. But he was the one to make those meetings end so badly. Something wasn't working and the common denominator was either him or the therapist and he can't exactly fire himself. At least not in any way that wasn't permanent.
Reaching out a hand Kent started to pet Kit, it was obvious what had triggered that particular nightmare. The game against the Falcs was... not the closure he thought it was going to be. The things he said to the press weren't untrue but he was also speaking as the team and not as himself. That game was different, it was the first time he was on the same ice as Jack for the first time since 2009.
It was important but only to the deepest, darkest part of himself that clung to a tarnished past.
Kent sighed and pushed himself up, he needed a new therapist and maybe this time he shouldn't stick to the first one he finds.
_/.\_
Kents ended up sticking to the first therapist he found two weeks later.
It wasn't like he meant to but the new guy and him just... clicked. It helped that he was recommended by Troy and Kent typically trusted his judgment.
The first session was much to be expected, questions about what he wants out of therapy (to get to a better place mentally and to stay there), was there anything he needed to talk about that was a more urgent issue (no), has he had a therapist before (yes (Kent figured this was just a confirmation about information he already gave in the paperwork)), did that therapist diagnose him with anything, officially or not.
This was a question that threw Kent through a loop, thinking back at monthly sessions with his old therapist, she never mentioned a diagnosis. Yeah, she used the language associated with certain illnesses but not once did she actually say he could be diagnosed with anything.
All Kent could do was shake his head in numb shock. Well... that explained a part of why he had felt he was stagnating.
_/.\_
Kent pushed the door of the pub open, waving the server off as he made his way through the mildly crowded building. It was a weekday but it was also a pretty popular hang out for hockey players and hockey fans alike. Almost on autopilot he made his way over to the booth he usually shared with his two best friends. And surprising nobody least of all himself the two of them were there already, both sipping a beer and sharing a basket of nacho fries.
“Should I be telling Shawn you've been shirking your nutritional plans again.” Kent chirped them.
Scraps snorted, “Like he actually cares, worst team dietitian I've ever met.”
Kent shrugged, Shawn was the only pro team dietitian he's ever met, nudging Troy over he sat down and stole a few fries. Scraps was almost fast enough to slap his hand away but Kent was always quicker on the draw, on ice and off.
“Anything new with you?” Troy asked meaningfully, like he didn't just see him that morning for practice. But Kent knew what he was digging for.
Biting off a sarcastic remark he answered truthfully, “The guy you referred me to seems alright, of course it was only the first session, dude could be a huge dick and I wouldn't know it yet.”
Scraps gave them both an eyebrow raise and before Kent could say anything, Troy beat him to it. “New therapist, who's a good guy.” he stressed ‘good’ pointedly.
“Just because he's a good guy doesn't mean he's good for me.'' Kent said while snatching another fry.
“Sure but at least give him a chance, the things I've heard about him from Mags makes him sound like a miracle worker. Honestly with her progress after all that shit with her dad, he just might be.”
“Therapist? What happened to your old one, Parse?” Scraps butted in.
“Fired her.” He answered nonchalantly, waving off Scraps’ concern. but apparently that just made him more concerned
“Did she do something?”
“No, it just… wasn't working out.”
Scraps nodded in understanding and didn't push it, instead he reached up and took Kent's snapback off just so he could ruffle his hair. Kent let him, only because he knew if he resisted they would cause a scene wrestling each other. They might be semi-famous NHL players but that doesn’t mean they can’t be kicked out to the curb for disturbing other patrons.