Chapter Text
Hockey players live and die by routine, especially on game days.Their meals, their naps, which skate is tied first, the way they tape their sticks, anything could become ritual.
Any crisis can rattle you. But a crisis that cuts into the rhythmic flow of a familiar ritual hits in a way that can tear the breath from your lungs.
Today was a game day. And the day was unfolding like it always does.
“Hurry the fuck up,” Mack whined, impatience thrumming though him as he hovered over Will where the blonde sat stooped with his shoe laces in hand. Will paused to shove his hyperactive bestie back a step before reaching back down for the fallen lace.
“Quit crowding, you’re slowing me down,” he grumbled, but smiles broke on both their faces when Will finally hopped up, jostling forward into Mack’s space.
Their giggles and roughhousing echoed off the walls once they reached the back corridors of the SAP Center, a familiar sound to anyone who had ever found themselves in the back hallways on game day.
Nobody quite understood this game of theirs. Basketball with no hoops, just a lot of shoving and grabbing and cackling as they took turns fighting to get by, to get their ball to strike the wall.
Will was winning today, or at least that’s what he claimed, to Mack’s chagrin. He pushed, lunged and lifted the ball only for Mack to take a wild swipe at the ball sending it rocketing across the room. Will stared, startled for a moment before both burst into laughter at the intensity of the play.
“You’re getting it, that was all you,” Will demanded, interrupting his own laughter to place the blame. The scowl that bloomed on Mack’s face was a false one and Will found his cheeks burning with affection as he watched the younger dramatically stalk toward the massive steel shelving unit the ball had vanished under.
And maybe he let himself linger on the curve of Mack’s ass, always so distracting in the black spandex he warmed up in. Maybe. Just a little indulgence.
He giggled as curses rang out from underneath the shelves. The ball must have gotten stupidly deep because soon even Mack’s feet vanished from sight.
Stepping closer, Will dropped to his belly to peek into the darkness and had to giggle some more. Mack was wriggling around, trying to make his way back now, ball in tow. He kept bumping the bottom of the shelves as he went.
“Here,” Will called, startling Mack into bonking his head. “Roll it to me.”
Mack glared but it quickly melted into his usual wide mouthed grin. He twisted to get the ball in front and then shoved it toward Will, who corralled it and moved to stand back up.
Just as Mack had nearly pulled himself free, he knocked the shelf again. A rusted corner buckled at the contact and suddenly Will was yelling in panic because the entire structure began to collapse forward, Mack still very much below it.
Running forward, Will grabbed Mack’s hand before lunging away from the collapsing unit. The two had nearly cleared it together when the steel landed, trapping Mack’s legs underneath.
The guttural scream that tore from his lips echoed hauntingly through the depths of the SAP.
“Shit,” Will croaked. “Oh shit. Shit. Shit.” For a brief moment he hovered, heart in his throat as he stared at the blood already staining the polished cement underneath his fellow rookie. Then, the panic finally ignited his urgency. “HELP, FUCK, HELP GET MEDICAL, GET MEDICAL!”
The teammates who had been closest at Mack’s initial cry of pain whipped around the corner as Will began to run for help, leading to a small collision at the round of the bend.
“Will, what?” gasped Elklund, shaky hands gripping onto Will’s forearms. “Mack he, the shelves, they, he’s fucking pinned, it’s so bad. It’s so bad.”
The group rushed toward their trapped superstar, hearts racing as they took in his prone form.
“Do we lift it?” asked Will, crouching by Mack’s head to place a comforting hand on his shoulder.
“Please,” Mack whimpered. “Please, it’s so bad.” He was pale now, sweat gathering as he trembled uncontrollably, eyes clenched tightly. The tone of his voice felt like a punch to Will’s solar plexus. He had never heard Mack so … well, so very unlike Mack.
Just as the boys arranged themselves to attempt to lift the massive structure, a voice rang sharply with warning.
“Don’t move it! Do not move it!”
The group froze, all eyes turning toward Kenneth, one of their team physicians, who was running with Tyler Toffoli by his side.
The boys cleared a path to let Kenneth through and the physician cursed under his breath as he took in the accident.
“Macklin, can you hear me?” he asked gently but loudly. Mack turned his glazed eyes toward the trainer and nodded.
“Okay, I know you probably want as far from here as possible, but I’m going to need you to sit tight until EMS arrives. We don’t know what kind of damage the shelf is holding in place and I don’t want to put you in a dangerous spot by shifting anything before we have a team on site ready to make sure you have the care you need.”
Tears pooled in the young man’s eyes but he nodded in understanding. He let out a broken keen when Toff brushed his fingers into the now sweat-slick strands of hair, pushing them up off his forehead.
As Toff sat beside Mack and continued to give him murmurs and touches of comfort, Kenneth turned to the rest of the team and began to give the restless men a few tasks.
“Ambulances aren’t on site for the game yet, won’t be for another hour. Has anyone called 9-1-1?”
Shame rippled through the group, but Kenneth brushed it off. “Carly, call 9-1-1, tell them we’re dealing with a crush injury. Ekky, run to the trainers room and grab an emergency blanket. He’s in shock and this may take a bit. We gotta warm him up.”
As he spoke, Kenneth was already pulling gauze from an aid kit he’d brought in tow. The man shifted onto his stomach to get a better view of where Mack’s legs were trapped before pressing forward with the gauze.
Mack jerked with a choked groan, trembling violently now. Tyler shushed quietly and continued to pet at the distressed teen’s hair. His heart twisting sharply at seeing his rookie suffer so greatly.
It was all too much for Will. Stumbling back, he jogged weakly to the first trash can he could find, gripping it, white-knuckled, as he vomited inside. Terror and guilt stirred the nausea within him and he choked on a sob. Hands rubbed his back and Will blinked through his tears to find Grany behind him, face full of concern.
“Hey Pup,” he murmured softly. “Let’s go get you some water. Do you good to move your legs yeah?”
Once he’d said it, Will realized just how jittery and pent up he truly felt. The emotional torrent taking residence in his chest was practically begging for him to run and run and run. A walk to the locker room would maybe suffice. Mikael wrapped an arm around Will and guided him further down the hall. He let the silence wrap around them, not forcing small talk or platitudes. Just being there.
When the two reached the locker room, a group of the boys who had missed the excitement glanced up worriedly at Will’s pale face and shaken demeanor. But before anyone could speak, Mikael held up his hand and shook his hand. Not now.
He settled Will into his stall and handed over a water bottle before crouching in front of the rookie, hands on his knees.
“Slow sips.”
Will’s hands shook as he did as he was told, adrenaline still pumping through him.
“I couldn’t pull him out in time,” Will croaked and Grany sighed.
“You can’t shoulder this Will, it was a freak accident,” the veteran assured. He knew it would likely take more than one disagreement to break this loop in the kid’s head, but goddamnit, he’d be there to correct it as many times as it took.
“Now, do you want to sit here for a minute or go back?”
Will focused on breathing, on grounding himself. “Both? Can I? Both?”
Mikael ruffled Will’s hair affectionately. “Yeah Pup. We’ll sit here for a few then head back.”
Back at the scene of the accident, Mack had grown disoriented. He was now drenched in sweat and the gauze and towels pressed against his legs were thick and heavy, hardly managing to stanch the continuing flow of blood.
When Eklund returned with the silver blanket, they tucked it around Mack carefully, cringing as Mack whimpered in distress.
“I know it’s not soft but it’s going to keep you warm okay?” Tyler spoke softly.
Mack suddenly turned his head, glazed eyes widening with panic. “Will?” he whimpered. “Will?” he called again, voice straining.
“It’s okay Mack, he didn’t go far. He’ll be right back okay bud?” Ekky assured, but Mack was delirious and fixated. “Will? Will? Will, please? Please Will?”
The players still waiting nearby tensely shifted, uncomfortable at seeing the kid so distressed. Tears burned in Tyler’s eyes as he took hold of Mack’s hand and continued to pet at his hair and cheek.
“You’re okay Macklin. I need you to hang in there for me. Can you do that? Tell me about your trip to see Aidan. How did that go last week?”
Mack quieted, brow furrowed as he worked to wrap his pain-addled mind around the request. “W’s good,” he slurred before slipping into silence.
Finally, after the longest fifteen minutes of the team’s lives, EMT’s rounded the corner. The group worked to stabilize Mack, preparing him for the lifting of the shelves.
This scream reached the locker room.
Everyone froze. Everyone except Will Smith. Will Smith who had never run faster in his life. He’d been gone too long.
Footsteps resounded in the corridor as he ran with all his might back to his Mack. Rounding the corner, he skidded to a stop as he found Mack surrounded by a medical team working to triage the crush injury. It wasn’t long before they had him bundled in blankets on a gurney.
Will stepped closer, pushing through to take Mack’s shoulder and press a kiss to his forehead. “You’ll be okay,” he declared, tone almost demanding.
The group stood huddled as the gurney turned the corner, no one sure what to do now. Will glanced over at the red stained cement and his heart shattered once again.