Icing Those Hurts (NOT MY STORY. READ DISC)

Part 15

George isn't sure that Technoblade's message sticks in Tommy's head, but then Tommy comes to him the next day, sheepish and pink and stuttering. George stares for just a moment, trying to understand what he's being told when Tommy finally manages to say the words sleep, and nap, and it clicks.

"Follow me," he says, turning and walking down the hall. He doesn't let himself think about the fact that Tommy came to him first before anyone else. He doesn't let himself think about how ashamed and embarrassed Tommy seemed to feel for asking for a simple place to rest. The only thing he thinks about are the shadows under the kid's eyes. The ones that shouldn't be there.

He leads Tommy to the trainers' medical center, and thankfully, since it's around eleven in the morning, it's pretty empty.

"I'm friends with one of the trainers," George explains to Tommy, who is blinking around at the medical supplies like he's never been to a center in his life. George wonders if Tommy has ever gotten hurt in his life- or if he has, and whether it's been treated properly. "They'll let you rest here."

Ponk pokes their head out of the side room. "George? Is that you? Goodness, what did you bruise up this time?" He comes out fully, and stops when they see Tommy standing there. "Oh. Hello. Who's this?"

"This is Tommy," George says. "Tommy, this is Ponk."

"Hello," Tommy greets, nodding.

Ponk's eyes widen. "Oh- Oh, figure skating Tommy. You're- wow. You're amazing. I love watching your routines, man. They're so perfect ."

George winces, but Tommy just smiles tiredly. "Thank you, I appreciate it. My coach is- he's a marvel."

"You're a marvel," Ponk corrects easily. "But what brings you here- and with George no less? Don't tell me you launched a puck at him by accident or something- I swear, George-"

"No," George rolls his eyes. "I only do that to Sapnap. Schlatt if he deserves it. No, I'm here because I need to ask a favor, if you could manage it."

"What kind of favor?"

"The kid needs a place to rest." George nods over to Tommy, who's studying his shoes. "His marvel of a coach won't give him two seconds off the ice to breathe."

The excitement in Ponk's expression fades. Overtaking it is some intense distaste. "Ah. I see. It's usually quiet here until one, so you can definitely rest here, Tommy. I've got a back room where we treat breaks or sprains. There's a cot there you can take."

"What if someone else needs it?" Tommy asks.

Ponk waves a hand, then guides Tommy over to the room. "I'll tell them to wait." They wink at Tommy and Tommy smiles, then steps inside. He pauses in the doorway though, and turns to look at George, real worry in his face.

"George, what if- I mean, my coach. What if he comes looking for me? What do I- What do I do?"

George, for just a moment, imagines Tommy, asleep in a backroom, thinking that he's safe and comfortable, and then being abruptly woken up by his coach, who's just mad at seeing his skater resting because he needs it. It would be a nightmare situation for Tommy and George knows he's not going to let that happen.

"I'll sit and keep watch," He offers. "I'll be right out here, in these chairs. If he comes I'll tell him that I don't know where you are."

"...Don't you have something else that you need to do?"

"Nothing as important as this," He says. Ponk gives him a look, but George is focused on the way that Tommy colors. George ushers him into the room and watches as he settles into the bed. When Tommy seems alright, he steps back and closes his door, then sits down in the chair and waits.

Of course, not twenty minutes later, a man, dressed in a light blue turtleneck comes into the room, asking for Tommy. Ponk, a great actor, lies, pretending that he doesn't know who Tommy is, or like he's never even heard of the coach. The man is about to leave, but then he catches sight of George sitting there, staring balefully.

They lock eyes, and George wants so badly for him to say anything. Say a single bad thing about Tommy while George is sitting there protecting him, and George will not hesitate.

"Is Tommy in there?"

George inhales. Exhales. He looks the man up and down. He could lay him out. He could. Then he thinks about how Technoblade and Phil would not like to have to clean up his mess if he beats the shit out of a coach. "I don't know who Tommy is. And no, the only person in that room is someone with a twisted knee." He hums, cutting his gaze to the side like he doesn't care. "He might have to go home- no more Olympics. I'm sitting here as a sign of good sportsmanship or something."

Tommy's coach frowns. "How do you know that he's hurt that badly?"

George pauses. Then George smiles. "Because I'm the one who fucked up his knee." He lets that sink in for a moment. Then he goes, "you should find your player, coach. Can't compete without an athlete."

The coach doesn't need to be told twice. He's gone before George can blink.

He waits a moment before peeking into the darkened room behind him. Tommy is still under the covers, breathing deeply, his side rising and falling. George takes a breath, then moves his chair inside the room to watch him breathe. When he's settled, Ponk is leaning against the doorway, watching him with a smile on his face.

"What?" George asks.

"This is your kid, huh?" He says, nodding at Tommy.

George doesn't answer, rolling his eyes, but in his head, to himself, he thinks yes. Yes he is.