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Hayden never imagined his peace would be shattered like this. He bumped his head, unexpectedly gaining the ability to read mind, while simultaneously caught between two lovebirds, Shane and Ilya. (English is not my first language, and there may be issues with the timeline.) Hayden Pike knows he isn't the most dazzling player on the ice, but he is reliable and steady. He is the kind of guy who would show up on time, do his job, and go home to his wife, Jackie, and their twins, Emma and Ruby, and if he is lucky, maybe even catch the last few games on TV before collapsing onto the couch and falling asleep. Therefore, he is absolutely certain of a few things in life: Jackie's Sunday pancakes were the best in Montreal; the kids would make him spend all the money he could possibly have on hockey gear; Shane is the best captain he could have; Shane is a straight man; and Hayden himself is one of the best role players in the NHL. Then, in a meaningless game in November, he was bumped by Cliff Marleau of the Boston Raiders, and everything changed. It isn't even a flagrant foul. Hayden is skating backward, caught up in the rhythm of the game, and didn't even see Marleau coming at him. His head slammed into the ice with a sharp thud that echoed through the Bell Centre. In that instant, he felt dizzy, colors blurred, and the clamor of the crowd turned into a cacophony of noise. When he opened his eyes, Shane was leaning over him, his lips moving. But Hayden couldn't hear Shane's voice; he heard something else. [Please, please, it has to be alright, damn it, it looks terrible. Is he ok? Say something, Pike, say it—] Hayden blinked. Shane's lips didn't move with the words. "Can you hear me?" Shane's voice finally broke through. "Pike? How many fingers?" "Two," Hayden said hoarsely. "I'm alright. Just… give me a second." But he isn't really alright. As the medical team helped him to his feet and escorted him through the players' tunnel, Hayden felt a buzzing in his head, like a radio switching between two channels. Words and phrases swirled in his mind, but he couldn't fully comprehend them. [He looks really badly injured. I can't afford to get hurt again.] [f I'm late for another game, my wife will kill me.] [That new Thai restaurant on St. Lawrence Street…] Maybe I can talk to the coach and try to get more playing time— Various sounds mingled together, like a chaotic symphony, utterly disordered. As the team doctor helped Hayden into the examination room, he pressed his palm to his temple. “Headache?” Dr. Rousseau asked, shining a flashlight into Hayden's eyes. “Yes,” Hayden said, but it isn't just a headache. The sounds were becoming clearer; he could now distinguish the different sounds. [Hope it's nothing serious. I have a wedding to attend next weekend. ]That's Dr. Rousseau. It must be him; he's alone in the room. “I…” Hayden swallowed. “Am I going crazy, Doctor?” Dr. Rousseau gave a reassuring smile. “It's probably just a mild concussion. You'll be fine. Rest for a few days, don't look at screens, and come back for your follow-up appointment next week. Don't participate in any training until I give you permission to recover.” That night, lying in bed next to Jackie, Hayden truly realized the seriousness of his new problem. [I wonder if I locked the car.] He turned his head. Jackie is looking down at her phone, a calm expression on her face. [Emma needs a new pair of figure skates. Maybe we can go to the sporting goods store this weekend. Goodness, they grow up so fast.] “Hey,” Hayden said softly. “Jay?” She looked up. “Hmm?” “What are you thinking about right now?” She raised an eyebrow. “Pike, this is a dangerous question. What’s wrong?” “Just curious.” [—Is this about that celebrity on Twitter? I knew I should have made my account private.] Hayden suppressed a laugh. “Never mind. I love you.” “I love you too, weirdo.” By morning, Hayden had to accept the fact: he could hear other people's thoughts. Not always, and not with everyone, but when he focused intently on someone, their inner monologue would reach his ears clearly. This should have terrified him. However, after the initial panic, Hayden found…it is useful? He discovered that Jackie's favorite coffee isn't her usual vanilla latte but a honey lavender cold brew she'd tried once at a specialty coffee shop, which she'd thought was too expensive. [Eight dollars for a cup of coffee? Insane! But wow, it is so good!] So he learned to make it himself. That Sunday morning, when he served Jackie his homemade coffee, her expression made all the tutorials he'd watched on YouTube
- Language:
- English
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- AO3:
- #77363666