Sticks and Skates [Wayhaught]

New-Homo-Lorax

She'd been in shock when she saw it happen, of course.

She'd locked up the arena office and went down to watch the third period, leaving some security guard named Bruce? Bryce? Bryan?—whatever his name was—to ensure the safety of the entrance, seeing as she hadn't had the opportunity to watch the a game not on the screen in the office all season. Gus had always had an extra seat next to hers tucked away and saved for Curtis' memory, right up in the front row of the right corner boards, his favorite place to watch games long before the small-town community rink had upgraded to the venue it was today. Her aunt had welcomed her to sit in the seat, an honor not bestowed upon anyone in the town of Purgatory.

It was all going so well, the Devils were winning, and she'd been texting her sister about the bet she'd made with Nicole. She hadn't expected things to go so wrong so quickly.

Her seating arrangement had given Wynonna a front row seat to the incident. She'd seen everything in the highest definition possible—Nicole trudging toward the puck, the sick look of deviance that Wynonna knew all too well on Jolene's face telling her that something bad was about to happen. And then there was the collision. She wasn't exactly which hit first, her head or her leg, but there was the unmistakable sound of bone snapping and helmet smacking into the wall. The one thing she hadn't heard was Nicole scream out or yelp or anything.

Wynonna had known Nicole now for a while and knew that she was as tough as they came. It was one of the things she respected most about her unlikely best friend. But she also knew that a collision that sounded like that would've hurt beyond anyone's pain tolerance. Wynonna stood up to get a better view once the scrum had cleared away, seeing the redhead laying on the ice, motionless, right leg bent at an odd angle, blood pouring from her chin and what looked like some other source she couldn't visualize. She hadn't screamed, or yelled, or cried, which could only mean that she'd been knocked unconscious almost immediately. (Part of Wynonna took solace in that thought, that Nicole hadn't really felt any of the pain, though she figured that it would be of little comfort to Waverly).

Her mind switched gears to her sister. Her sister who had just watched the love of her life be viciously attacked playing a game. Everything she'd been feeling, she knew Waverly was feeling and then some.

Gus joined her to look through the glass when Nedley and the training staff made it to the corner, clearing the few Devils players who had gathered around the area away. They'd tried to do as much as they could without moving Nicole, but quickly realized they wouldn't be able to do anything for her while she was unconscious. They spent the better part of the next ten minutes safely moving Nicole, first onto a backboard and then onto the stretcher. Doc realized that Wynonna had been in close proximity just as they were getting ready to roll the stretcher away, shaking his head at her with a look saying "This ain't good."

Part of her wanted to go find her sister, hold her close and tell her everything was going to be okay, but after what she'd seen, she wasn't quite sure what weight those words would hold. Part of her wanted to march straight onto the ice to give the bitch who hit Nicole a piece of her mind, or kick her ass—mostly the latter. But she felt paralyzed, unable to move from her spot, the reality of Nicole's injury still not fully taking effect, but still enough to envision all the bad things that could happen to her.

She was guided back down into the seat by Gus, who had tried her best to comfort her. Wynonna found herself irritated at the fact that they up and started the game like they hadn't just witnessed an attempted murder fifteen minutes earlier. Some logical part of her brain understood that the show must go on, and the rest of the game must be played out, but it didn't change her feeling that it was wrong to just go on like nothing happened. Instead, she sat in Curtis' seat, her head in her hands trying to forget the images she'd just seen and the things she'd just heard.