The team decides that the way to celebrate Tahnay's shutout and Angel's "revenge" was to go out to a bar a few blocks down the street from the Bell Stadium.
An hour or so in, Tahnay finds Angel in the men's restroom, staring at himself in the mirror. "Angel?"
"Hey." Angel greets, not looking away. He leans closer to his reflection.
Tahnay awkwardly does his business and washes his hands in the sink next to Angel. "Uh, so. You proved Montreal wrong. We're top of our division as of tonight. You happy?"
"Yeah, but more for ourselves than making Montreal cry. You, especially." Angel finally looks up, his expression sincere. "Got a shutout. Gave me sage advice I didn't follow until Kit repeated it."
"Should that offend me?" Tahnay laughs. He shakes water off his hands and grabs a paper towel.
"Sorry." Angel says, and he winces slightly. "But I think I'm finally playing for... For the love of the game. Before, I was playing just to try to get revenge, but now, it's different, you know?"
"Now you play for the Blades." Tahnay says. He glances at the ring on Angel's right hand, on his middle finger, and gives Angel a knowing grin. "Now you've got him."
Angel opens his mouth to deny it, but then decides against it, trusting his goalie. "Yeah. Tomek's been way too good to me. I, uh, this isn't from him, but..."
"Buy him a drink." Tahnay tugs at Angel's arm, towards the door. "Come on."
Angel follows, laughing. He spots Tomek easily, chatting with some of the team at a long table.
Kit and Matti are sitting by him, surprisingly-- players on the injured reserve usually don't tag along to road trips. Khai's leaning on Matti, giggling and snorting at whatever Matti's whispering to her. Kit is absolutely animated, waving his hands and pulling ridiculous expressions as he tells a story. He freezes mid-sentence when he sees Angel and Tahnay approaching.
"Coach, the whole gang's here!" Kit calls.
"Right, right." Hans comes stumbling from the bar counter, two margaritas in hand. "Everyone have a seat, we gotta do our honors for the night!"
Angel promptly sits next to Tomek and pats his shoulder. Tomek responds with a sunny grin. (Angel falls in love again in a split second over those freckles and that smile.)
"Tahnay. You know what you did. Have this. Goalie potion." Hans places the large margarita glass in front of Tahnay. "You want a straw?"
"I'm good." Tahnay snorts, flicking the salt off of the top.
"Skyler, you get this one for that amazing penalty kill and goal." Hans says.
"Am I allowed to drink this?" She asks, giving a dubious look.
"Quebec drinking age is eighteen. Don't worry." Hans says, winking and sliding the glass down the table. "Give it to me if you don't finish it."
After a moment, the team falls back to their own conversations. Trevor begins scolding Kit, realizing he is not wearing his knee brace. Quincy and Tahnay start arguing about Philadelphia's new jerseys. Angel and Tomek say nothing, but they share an amused glance worth a thousand words. Hans gathers attention once again by tapping a fork on Skyler's untouched drink.
"Last prize! Our luck of the game goes to Angel!" Hans announces, and the team erupts into applause. Hans pulls something out of their back pocket and chuck it and Angel from across the table.
It's that familiar off-white color and not-quite-fresh smell. Angel groans. "Really? The jock?"
"You've fifteen seconds for your speech." Kit says. He leans back in his wheelchair and smirks.
"I shouldn't have given this back to you." Angel murmurs.
"Fourteen. Thirteen. Tw--"
"Okay, okay, fuck off." Angel laughs as he struggles to stand up between his chair and the table. He holds up the jock, a trophy for the team to admire. "I'm really glad that we found some luck and some love tonight. Thank you all."
A few clap out of politeness. Kit hisses, "That's a shit speech."
"You gave me fifteen seconds!" Angel hisses back, slapping Kit's arm.
"Do you want to say anything else?" Hans asks, their vibe killed.
"Uh. Yeah, sure. Wouldn't hurt." Angel says. He sees Tomek looking at him, almost expectant. "So, uh. I'm serious about being thankful for all of you, for tolerating my bullshit for a couple of weeks."
Skyler makes eye contact with him. She nods, understanding.
Angel takes a breath before continuing. "You taught me that team is family, that we're supposed to love one another no matter what had happened in the past."
He sees Matti and Khai's hands on the table brush against each other and their matching tattoos, the sun resting on the crescent moon.
"How to deal with a rough past. How to deal with loss. How to apologize." Angel lists, glancing at Hans, Kit, and then Tomek. "I couldn't have done anything without all of you. Really. Thank you."
Tomek is the first to start clapping, and the rest of the team soon follows along with whistles and hoots. Angel laughs, playfully shoving Tomek.
The bar becomes a little too loud when Tomek pulls him in by his jacket and presses his forehead to his.
"Hey, Angel." Tomek greets, tipping Angel's chin up with a finger. "May I?"
Angel's not afraid to tell him yes.
YOU ARE READING
ANGEL CHIRPS
Ficção Geral"Angel, you're trying to prove yourself to people who don't care about you." Currently being adapted into a webcomic, check out the story so far on theteamtrauma.com !
