Hockey Imagines

Baby (Part One) | Sidney Crosby

#87, Center for the Pittsburgh Penguins
Word Count: 3.6 K

"And there he is, Sidney Crosby! And there goes Hughes, slammed into the boards! And Hughes fights back. Oh! Gloves have been dropped, and Quinn Hughes and Sidney Crosby are in a death match on the ice!"

I quickly press the "off" button on the TV, though it's too late. Sidney already saw, and heard, his fight from tonight being replayed. The same fight that has him facing a thirty thousand dollar fine from the league and a suspension for the rest of the season. He isn't happy, but he knows that what he did deserves it, or at least he should. He knows he crossed a line with Quinn.

"Have you talked to him?"

I sigh. "No. I've talked to Jack and Luke, and they said that he isn't too fond with the idea of talking to me. Sister or not, I'm married to the reason why he's currently in a hospital bed and not able to even get on the ice for the rest of the season due to his injuries." I'm not very happy with Sidney, either. I mean, I get it. He's doing his job. He was playing defense with a defenseman. But slamming my brother into the boards, knocking him out with a concussion, bruised ribs and a broken wrist? Completely uncalled for.

"I didn't mean for it to escalate that much. But you know Quinn. He's always hated me, and—"

I shake my head. "Don't you dare try to justify what you did. Quinn is not only my brother, but my twin. You would think that maybe you would be a little more careful with your brother-in-law than other players." I snap.

"Sweetheart—"

"Don't 'sweetheart' me, Sidney Crosby. You know damn well that I am not okay with you putting him in the hospital, and then continuing to try to make excuses to justify it!"

"Fuck!" He yells, standing. He pushes a hand angrily through his hair, pacing. "You think I don't know that I've fucked up? I owe the league thirty thousand, and I'm not playing the rest of the season. Don't you think that's punishment enough, without adding in your bitching at me and guilt-tripping me?!"

"Fuck you." I spit, moving toward the bedroom. Fuck it. I'm not staying here tonight. I'll go by the hospital to talk to Quinn and see how he's doing, and I'll go from there. But I absolutely cannot be around my husband right now. Not when he's acting like a dick.

Sidney comes stomping after me, apparently not done arguing. "What the hell are you doing?" He demands, glaring at the bag that I'm tossing clothes into. I'm not even paying attention to what I'm putting in there; I'm just grabbing things and throwing them in.

"What does it look like I'm doing?"

"It looks like you're packing a bag to leave, but I damn well know you aren't."

I wheel around. "Excuse me? You may be my husband, but you do not tell me what I can and can't do. And yes, I damn well am leaving. I'm going to see my brother and make sure he's okay, which is what I should have done first instead of coming home with you." I throw the bag over my shoulder and walk away from him, not slowing once. And he doesn't try to stop me, either.

- - - - -

"Quinn Hughes."

"Are you family?"

"Twin sister, yes." I hand her my ID so she can confirm this, and she gives me his room number. I make my way down the hallway, dreading what I'm going to see. It's going to be just another reminder of this shitty day.

When I get to the room, I stand outside for a minute. I can hear Jack inside. I had no idea that he flew over here to see Quinn. I mean, it doesn't surprise me, but the fact that the Devils are okay with losing one of their star players during playoffs? Yeah, that surprises.