Hockey Imagines

Patrick Sharp (Dallas Stars)

***You're his daughter***

Your 6 year old sat on the curled up in your mom's arms as you watched your dad on the TV playing St. Louis. You had been miserable since you had the flu and wanted nothing more than your dad to be home. "Mama?" "Yes sweetie?" "Daddy home?" "Daddy will be home tomorrow morning okay?" You nodded and watched the screen as the game played and you saw your dad get the puck and go towards the net. He shot the puck but the stupid goalie stopped the puck. "Stupid goalie." You said at the TV which got a chuckle out of your mom. "Sweetie do you want something to eat? You haven't eaten all day." "No thank you." "You sure?" "Yes mama." "Love you sweetie." "Love you." You watched the screen, the fast movements making your stomach turn. "Mama no good." "You don't feel good?" "No mama." "Is it still your tummy?" You nodded, tears filling your eyes. "Alright sweetie, stay here." She went to the kitchen to get something and you curled in a ball holding your stomach. She came back with medicine and a small trash can just in case. You swallowed the gross liquid without much protest but it didn't stay down for long. Your mom rubbed your back and big tears flowed from your eyes down your cheeks. "Sweetie you have to calm down." Eventually you calmed down and curled into a ball on the couch wrapped in blankets. "Baby girl get some sleep." "No watch daddy!" "Only for a little while longer. You need to sleep." Eventually as you watched the game, sleep consumed you.

You woke up the next morning in your bed. You climbed out and went downstairs and saw your daddy. You went over and hugged his leg. "C'mere baby girl, mama said you haven't been feeling good?" "No, my tummy." "Daddy's here now, no worries." "Love you, miss you." "I missed you too baby. I love you lots."