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Part Sixty Six

Patrick's POV

I tap my stick on the edge of my bench, four times for good luck, and then an extra one for good measure. Game seven Pat, get in the game. It's tonight or nothing. I take a breath and get up from my spot. "Ok boys, let's go!" We all start heading out and the horn sounds as we step out onto the ice. My eyes scan the crowd and settle on Kayla, right behind the bench next to Joy and Heidi. She blows me a kiss and I pretend to catch it, blowing one back at her. Her smile lights up her face and I try to keep it in my mind as I skate to the blue line for the national anthem. 

I'm breathing hard as I skate back to the bench and swing the gate open, taking my spot next to Jonny. "Good try, good try," I tell him, giving him a little bump with my glove. We were on the powerplay and I passed to him, but he hit the goalpost. He shrugs, muttering "Gotta try harder." I can tell he's mad at himself because we're down a goal and it's already the third period. "Don't worry Jonny," I say, trying to reassure him. "We're going to make it to the Finals this year, bet you anything." I swing my legs back over the boards as our line heads out to try to tie this game up. 

Jonathan's POV

Stupid goalpost. Stupid, stupid, stupid. God I could have gotten that shot past Quick. Pat always tells me to just shrug off moments like that, but I can feel every eye on me, every mouth that groaned when I hit that goal post. Five minutes left in this game and we're losing. I don't want the season to end tonight. I'm not ready for that. 

I tap my stick on the ice, getting Duncan Keith's attention. He passes to me, but Brown blocks my path, so I pass back to Patrick in the corner. He shakes his head at me as a Kings player comes hurtling at him  and he snaps the puck back to me. I grip my stick and slam it into the puck, channeling all my energy and frustration into that one little black disk. Kopitar dives for it, but it sails above him. My eyes seem to follow it in slow motion as it sails past Quick's glove and hits the back of the net, the horn echoing in my brain before I have time to register it. 

Patrick hits me like a ball of fire. "Tied Baby!" I skate over to the bench, fist-bumping everyone before sitting back down. I look up at my face on the big screen, the score 3-3 now with thirty seconds left. We've got life again. We've got a chance. We can still make it. No, we will make it. 

Brent's POV

My heart is pounding as we take the ice again. Neither team scored in those last thirty seconds of period three, so now it's really go time. The beating inside my chest seems to be louder than the crowd and I try to concentrate on the puck instead of the thousands of eyes that are watching me. Stick down, skates ready to move. The Kings get the puck so I skate backwards making sure they don't get near Corey. He's made some really big saves this game, but I don't need him to test those skills now. One goal for them and we're done for the season. 

Duncan is fighting in the corner for the puck and he manages to scoot it on over to Jonathan who takes it and heads for the Kings zone. I'm quick to catch up to him, the Kings already covering their spots and trying to shield us from Quick. Jonathan passes to Patrick who quickly passes back to Duncan as a Kings player tries to grab the puck from him. Duncan makes a split second of eye contact with me and then pounds the puck over to me.

I aim for above Quick's left shoulder and the puck sails away from my stick with all my force. My eyes are following it as a Kings player crashes into me, his shoulder slamming against mine and ripping a searing pain through me. I fall to the ice as the goal light goes on and my body slams against the ice. Through my blurry vision, I can see the guys whooping and hollering and I smile at them. I try to get up, but my shoulder stings and pain rings through my ears. Jonathan skates over to me a huge smile on his face. "Brent, Brent, you did it buddy! We're going to the Finals!" His smile starts fading as I don't respond. "Seabs, you okay buddy?"

"Yeah," I try mumbling, my speech a bit slurred as my vision blacks in and out. "Hey Jonathan," I ask. "Why are there four of you?" Four confused Jonathans look back at me. "I'm going to get a paramedic ok. Don't move." I lie on the ice, the cold feeling nice against the sweat on my jersey, and let the darkness fill my eyes.   

So the Blackhawks are going to be going to the Stanley Cup Finals...but maybe one of them is no longer going to be on the team....Wonder how lucky number seven really is.