Canadian Sniper [ON HOLD]

1: Jesse

"I'm washed up," Jesse Vachar told his coach.

"You are not washed up," he groaned at his star player. "Jesse, it's one injury. It's not a big deal."

"I was averaging three points per game, coach! And now the doctor tells me my career might be over," groaned Jesse. "My season is over, I won't get drafted, I'm gonna be stuck like this forever! I didn't have a backup plan!"

"Enough!" Coach Bidvel thundered. He turned to the doctor. "What's the prognosis?"

The doctor shook his head. "He'll need to start rehab right away. We've managed to re-attach the broken disk in his spine, but the feeling will take a few days to return. What can't you feel right now?" he asked Jesse.

Jesse scowled, but not at the doctor. "My legs."

"Good, everything is fine?" the doctor confirmed.

Jesse nodded.

"In the meantime, I'll contact a rehabilitation center just outside of the city. They're renound. They'll have you back up and at it in no time," he said briskly.

"How long will he be out? I need to tell the media," Coach Bidvel said.

"Let's say four to six months for now," the doctor said.

"Four to six months?" Jesse choked out, but was silenced by his coach.

"All right." Coach Bidvel took Jesse's wheelchair by the hands. "Thank you very much, doctor."

"I will be in touch with your parents about rehab," the doctor said.

Jesse frowned. "Okay."

He was wheeled out of the doctor's office by his coach. "Did he get suspended yet?" Jesse asked, referring to the idiot who'd spear-ended his back and shattered a disk in anger.

"No, but there are rumblings he'll be suspended for 20 games, so we'll see," Coach Bidvel said. He was obviously not pleased with losing his star player, but he had no choice, seeing as at the moment, Jesse couldn't even walk.

"I must go meet with the media," Coach Bidvel said to Jesse's parents when they'd reached them. "Jesse will tell you everything."

Jesse looked up at his mother, who had worry written all over her face, and then to his father, who looked angry. Not at himself, but at the fact that his son was in a wheelchair.

"Prognosis?" Charlene Vachar asked shakily.

"Four to six months," Jesse admitted.

"Fuck," Shane Vachar swore. "Jesse..."

"I know dad. The feeling will return to my legs within a few days. When it does, you have to call the doctor and ask him to schedule an appointment with the rehab clinic he said he'd get me to. Apparently their program is good." Jesse felt empty. His aspirations for the future were as shattered as the disk in his back had been seventy two hours before.

"C'mon son. Let's get you home." Shane took the handles of his son's wheelchair and pushed him off. Charlene followed alongside.

"What's going to happen?" he heard his mother whisper to his father.

"I don't know, Char. I really don't."

-

Jesse sat on the bench, watching his team practice, longing for the chance to lace up and skate out there. But the feeling had just returned to his legs yesterday and he was still a little unsteady walking. However, being the captain, he felt the need to be there at practice, whether he was on the ice or not.

"Snipes!" Derek Madison, his alternate captain, skated over. "Long time no see, dude. You alright?"

"I'm hanging in there, Mads." Jesse gave a small smile. "You guys better not play any worse without me."

"We'll play the rest of our season for you, Cap. We won't forget." Derek gave him a pat on the shoulder and skated off.

Jesse felt a twinge of jealousy as he sighed and pulled out his phone. He scrolled through his Twitter feed when he came across one that made him pause:

Ryder Watson @RyderWatson2
Projected first-round draft pick Jesse Vachar suffered a season-ending injury last night. See it + reactions bit.ly/394qfnsk

Jesse clicked on the link and watched the video. He watched himself score a goal, put his arms up to celebrate, and then he watched the brutal spear from behind. He watched himself crumple to the ground, not moving, as his teammates converged on the spearer. He watched hismself get stretchered off and the referees surround the fighting players when the video ended.

He closed his eyes. He wished he could forget.

But he couldn't. He knew that while he could walk now, there was no chance he would skate in the NHL.

His dream was dead.

-

NEW STORY SO PSYCHED I LOVE HOCKEY STORIES

-LAUR