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forabeatofadrum · 2 years ago

Text

Center Ice

Summary: Jack is hit badly during a game and loses consciousness. When he wakes up, he finds himself in an unfamiliar hockey rink together with another player. That player is Jack, from the future.

Notes: Hello hello hello and welcome to this fic! Now that the creators have been revealed by @omgauplease, I can finally post it here as well! Thank you for hosting this fun fest.

I am very excited about AU Please! and I loved this anonymous prompt. I hope the original prompter enjoys.

AO3

Jack’s always felt at home on the ice. It’s the one place where he belongs. He skates around with the puck and all he can do is focus on the game. He knows Kenny is somewhere behind him, waiting for Jack to pass. They’ve perfected their plays. Jack’s made sure of that.

He has his eyes on the puck. Out of the corner of his eye he can see Kenny approaching.

But if there’s one downside of laser focus and getting lost in a play, it’s that there isn’t much room for things to go differently.

“Zimms-”

He hears Kenny before he feels the hit. His body hits the glass and fans of the opposite team roar. This isn’t new. Jack’s life has consisted of hockey ever since he was a baby. He knows how to take a check, but this one is different. He slides down the glass and he closes his eyes.

He needs to get up.

But instead, everything goes dark.

When Jack opens his eyes, he is alone. The stands are empty. There are no other players on the ice or on the bench.

Did they just leave him here?

He shakes his head. That can’t be right. Sometimes Jack has the feeling that everyone apart from Kenny secretly hates him, but no one would leave an injured player behind. He takes off his helmet and he gets up, which is surprisingly easy. It was a tough hit, so it shouldn’t be this easy.

Once he’s up, he takes in his surroundings and he realises that this is a different rink. The letters on the boards read Samwell and there is a huge S at center ice. This makes no sense.

Where is everyone? Where is he?

“Oh.”

Jack turns around. He’s not alone after all. There’s another player wearing a deep blue jersey and helmet. The beam of sunlight reflects on his visor, so Jack cannot see the player’s face. He tries to get a better look by squinting, but it isn’t working.

The other player holding a hockey stick with pride tape taped around it, and Jack tries to suppress the feeling in his chest, but he can’t help but feel a tinge of hope when he sees it. The player uses his other gloved hand to take off his helmet and when Jack sees the player’s face.

He’s staring at himself.

The other Jack’s hair is shorter and he has a beard, but it’s unmistakingly Jack.

Jack backs away and he hits the glass.

« Who are you? » he asks, even though he knows the answer. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t be speaking Quebecois.

The Other Jack looks equally confused, but after a few seconds of staring at each other, calmness passes over Other Jack’s face.

« Ah. I see » Other Jack says, and it’s weird to hear Jack’s own voice coming from someone else. Or is this even someone else?

« Who are you? » Jack repeats.

« I know this might sound strange, but I am you. You, from the future. »

Jack shakes his head. He must’ve been hit very badly. Why else is he hallucinating another version of himself?

Other Jack skates around the rink with a smile on his face.

« It makes sense that we meet here. » he says while he skates.

« Do you know where we are? » Jack asks. A part of him wants to ignore this Other Jack, but he also wants answers. Besides, this probably isn’t real.

This isn’t real.

Jack feels like he can breathe again.

This isn’t real.

He has nothing to worry about.

It’s comforting to know, because if it were real, then Jack would have to deal with that. Jack is still a bit wary of this Other Jack that he created with his mind, but hopefully he’ll come to his senses and he can go back to playing hockey.

« Were you hit? » the Other Jack asks instead of answering, « I got hit during a match in late 2007 when I was in the QMJL. I don’t remember much of it, but I guess I now know why. No worries, you’ll be fine. »

Jack realises that Other Jack is talking about the hit that has led to this hallucination. It makes sense that it gets brought up. The hit is the reason Jack is making this all up.

« Yes. It wasn’t nice. » Jack responds. He skates after Other Jack. « Why does it make sense that we meet here? »

« This is Faber Memorial Rink at Samwell University, our mother’s alma matter. »

Jack remembers Samwell. He’s never been there, but his mother has talked a lot about her time here. He wonders how his subconscious has recreated a place he’s never been to.

« Okay? »

Other Jack has a smile on his face. He looks wistful when he skates around, as if he’s reminded of something.

« This is a middle point » Other Jack says, « Samwell is a middle point between the QMJL and the NHL. I’m not on Falconers’ ice anymore, you’re not on juniors’ ice. This is center ice, in a way. It makes sense. »

« It doesn’t. Not really. »

Other Jack stops suddenly and Jack almost crashes into him. He looks at Jack with an easy smile. It is weird to see. Jack can’t remember the last time he looked so relaxed. Every photo of himself shows him with a tense face, or an empty one. On some days, Jack prefers to take some extra pills just to stay calm. An empty feeling is better than a tense one.

« I don’t know the rules for this » Other Jack laughs awkwardly, « I don’t know what I can tell you. »

Jack shrugs.

« If it makes you feel better… this isn’t real. It doesn’t matter. Nothing matters. »

Other Jack’s eyes widen slightly.

« That is a terrible way to think. »

Jack shrugs again, but he relents.

« Fine. Hockey matters. Hockey is all that matters. »

Other Jack smiles again, but this time it’s a sad smile.

« You really believe so, don’t you? » he asks.

Jack tenses up and he crosses his arms. He doesn’t feel like defending himself. Hockey is all that matters. That’s how it has always been and Jack’s tired of people questioning his love for the sport. Even other players are sometimes put off by Jack’s devotion. Sure, Jack declines invitations to go out so that he can come up with plays or so that he can watch tapes. And yes, whatever he has going on with Kenny is fun, but they both know that hockey comes first. That’s probably why Kenny is his best friend, since he gets it.

« If you really are me, then you’d understand. »

« I did. » Other Jack says. The past tense doesn’t go unnoticed. Other Jack lets out another awkward laugh and he gestures towards Jack. « Oh, look at you. I know you feel offended. I was you once, so no need to explain. I know hockey is everything to you, because it used to be everything to me. »

It’s a small admission. The Other Jack, the future version of himself, just told Jack that he will no longer care to the same extent. The thought horrifies him.

« But you still play. » Jack points out and he nods toward Other Jack’s attire. Jack doesn’t recognise the team, but Other Jack did mention the NHL. Everyone knows that Jack’s going to get drafted next year, when he’s eighteen, so Jack isn’t surprised to find a future version of himself playing in the NHL. But then why does this future version of himself look at him with, well…

Jack’s never been good at reading other people’s emotions, but he knows himself, and he recognises Other Jack’s pity.

« I will play as long as I can » Other Jack says. Finally, this version of himself says something useful. « I am 27. I hope to reach 53. »

« So I can beat Howe. » Jack adds. He knows what Other Jack means. « Technically, I need to reach 52 and 12 days to beat him, but 53 sounds better. Well, you’ve already played in the NHL for 9 years. 26 years to go and you’ve played as much as him! Well, he did take a small break for two years, so technically you need 24 more year. »

Of course Jack knows all of this by heart. He’s memorised all of the best players’ seasons.

Other Jack has another awkward smile on his face. Jack never knew it looked so weird on him.

« I, uh, started two years ago. If I want to beat Howe’s entire playtime, I need a bit more time. »

« You… what? »

Other Jack looks away and he avoid Jack’s stormy gaze. What does Other Jack mean? Does this mean that Jack’s NHL career starts at 25 instead of next year? The thought of that alone makes Jack feel uneasy and he clenches and unclenches his fists. He closes his eyes, because suddenly everything feels too much. He can feel the anxiety rise, which is weird, because Jack knows he took an extra dose before the game so he shouldn’t feel this way. Do the effects of his pills wear off in this hallucination?

Wait, he tells himself, This isn’t real.

This isn’t real.

This isn’t-

He feels a hand on his shoulder. Jack jerks away, almost slipping. He’s still on the ice, after all. The Other Jack catches him.

« Woah there! » Other Jack looks alarmed, « Sorry. I didn’t mean- I’m sorry, I forgot I used- Are you okay? Maybe we should get off the ice and sit somewhere. »

This isn’t real.

Other Jack guides Jack to the penalty box, since that is the closest by.

« You want some water? » Other Jack asks, and he sounds so worried, it almost makes Jack laugh. No one ever worries over him like this.

And Jack is fine. He is fine, usually. He has hockey, he has pills, and sometimes a drink. All is fine. These anxious moments rarely happen anymore.

« Where does a hallucination get water from? »

« I know this rink like the back of my hand.»

Other Jack doesn’t correct the hallucination thing, and Jack feels like something heavy has been lifted from his chest.

« I’m fine. You’re not real. »

« So you keep saying. »

« So whatever you say, it won’t mean anything. »

« If that’s what you want to believe to stay sane, sure. »

Jack frowns. Other Jack isn’t wrong. It’s indeed the thing that keeps him calm, but Other Jack didn’t have to say it like that.

« Then I can ask you anything I want about your life, and I can ignore it if I want to. »

« … I guess. Does my life really sound so terrible to you? »

« Yes! »

Other Jack looks away for a small second. The pity is back and Jack hates it.

« Why? » Other Jack challenges him.

« Because hockey! If you were real, which you’re not, are you telling me that I don’t get drafted next year? »

Other Jack nods and Jack really has to focus on the fact that this is a hallucination. Maybe the hit shook his brain and now his subconscious wants to torture him by presenting him with this bad future.

It feels so real, though. Which is ridiculous.

« Then, what am I going to do instead? » Jack asks, acting as if this future is going to happen. He’d still like to know how this Other Jack ended up in the NHL if he only started 2 years ago.

« I, uh… Well… » Other Jack trails off. He tries to talk several times, but nothing comes out, as if Other Jack knows Jack won’t be happy to hear it.

« It’s fine. This isn’t real. You’re not real. »

« And so you believe. »

« You can tell me. It won’t matter. »

Other Jack looks down and he closes his eyes. Jack knows that move. Jack also closes his eyes when he wants to shut out the world.

« You go to rehab. »

Jack jumps off the bench in shock.

« Rehab? »

« You have a drug problem. You are addicted to pills. You overdose the day before the draft. »

« I don’t have a problem. » Jack bites back. In the back of his head he keeps reminding himself that this is bullshit, but that doesn’t mean it’s an easy thing to hear.

« Yes you do. And it almost cost you everything. If Kent hadn’t found you that day… » Other Jack trails off.

Kent.

That’s a thing Jack understands.

Kent is still there.

But the rehab thing weighs heavily. He tries to remind himself that this isn’t real, but it is hard. The Other Jack notices, and he tells him to breathe. For something that supposedly isn’t real, the panic does feel real. The panic is the reason he is on medication. He needs it.

He’s never considered that too much might be dangerous.

Other Jack is still sat on the bench. He must realise that Jack doesn’t want to be touched, but he’s still there to comfort him, which is admittedly nice. No one has ever been here for him like this, except maybe Kenny, but Jack mostly tries to stay away from him when he feels like this. He doesn’t need Kenny to know that he’s weak.

Jack has one more question that’s on his mind. He’s almost too afraid to ask, but he can’t stop thinking about it.

Other Jack raises an eyebrow.

Jack takes a deep breath.

« The overdose. »

« Yeah? »

« Was it accidental? »

Or was it intentional? is what is left unsaid, but judging by the look on Other Jack’s face, he knows what Jack is asking.

« It happened. »

« That doesn’t answer my question. »

« I know. »

Jack lets out a frustrated huff. What’s the point of this hallucination if the other him isn’t going to talk? This is his own mind!

Jack waits for Other Jack to hopefully elaborate, but Other Jack doesn’t. He looks into space.

« What does Kenny think about you not being drafted? »

« Does it matter? » Other Jack snaps and Jack’s momentarily thrown off guard. Why is Other Jack acting like that?

Jack’s eyes fall on the pride tape on Other Jack’s stick. So far he hadn’t really given it any more thought, but now he does. Is Kenny no longer beside him? Jack and Kenny have an agreement that hockey goes first, but the tape on Other Jack’s stick says that maybe Other Jack can have both.

« Are you gay? » Jack blurts out and Other Jack looks up in shock.

Then he burst out into laughter.

« Wow, way to change the subject, kid. »

In Jack’s defense, this hallucination is kind of upending his entire life. He has the right to not make any sense, since nothing about this makes sense anyway.

« Are you? » Jack asks. Am I?

« We’re bisexual, but no worries, you have some time to figure it out. » Other Jack answers.

« I do? During rehab? »

Jack still has to wrap his head around this rehab thing. It sounds ridiculous. But also, if he’s not playing hockey, then what else can he think of? According to Other Jack, his identity.

« Partially. And college. »

Other Jack looks around again and the wistful look reappears on his face, and Jack gets it. Other Jack called this rink a middle moment between the QMJL and the NHL.

« I will play in the NCAA? »

And finally, the easy smile returns to Other Jack’s face. Jack realises he missed it.

« For four years, yeah. Best years of your life. »

« Well. It’s still hockey. » Jack sounds unsure. It isn’t what he hopes for, and the rehab thing is still there, but it’s hockey.

« I know it might sound strange now, but there is more to life than hockey. »

That does indeed sound strange. Jack tells him that and Other Jack snorts.

« Then, what else is there than hockey? » Jack asks, and when he asks it plainly like that, he has to admit that it sounds a bit stupid, but Jack genuinely doesn’t know the answer.

Who is he without hockey? Everything in his life leads to hockey, even non-hockey things. His teammates are his social circle. He fools around with Kenny, but because Kenny knows it’s about hockey. His family has always been supportive of his hockey career.

Everything is hockey.

« Friendship. Comfort. Photography. »

« Photography? »

That sounds like an odd one. Friendship and comfort sound reasonable, but photography?

« Pies. » Other Jack adds and his eyes light up when he says it.

Pies?

« Pies? »

« Oh Jack, you have no idea. So. Many. Pies. » Other Jack says with a chuckle.

« How are pies relevant? »

« Bitty. Bits. Love. »

“Bites?” Jack exclaims.

“Que?” Other Jack frowns when he sees the indignant look on Jack’s face.

Jack turns red. This is such an embarrassing conversation to have, especially with a made up future version of yourself.

“Bites,” Jack repeats the French word. God, this is terrible. He can feel himself feel red.

Jack can see the moment Other Jack realises. Other Jack looks horrified for a second, but then he hides his head in his face and he laughs.

“Ouais. Ça aussi.”

Other Jack has a smug look on his face. Jack coughs. Alright then.

“… Trés bien,” he squeaks out.

This is so weird.

Other Jack quickly says: « I didn’t mean that. B-I-T-S, not B-I-T-E-S. Bits.»

« … what is a bits? »

Other Jack he looks radiant.

« Bitty. Eric Bittle. My husband. »

Did Jack hear that correctly? They just had another linguistic mishap, so it might be possible that Jack has misheard another thing, but how else can he interpret ‘mon mari’? Did Jack mean another name? Mary? But who the fuck is Mary? And who the fuck is Eric Bittle?

« I’m sorry… what? »

“My husband,” Other Jack says in English, as if he can understand the confusion. Then he takes off his left glove and Jack’s eyes widen when he sees a ring on Other Jack’s finger.

« Can I? » Jack reaches for Other Jack’s hand. This is surreal.

While Jack inspects the wedding band, Other Jack talks about his husband. His husband. What the fuck.

« We met here, at Samwell. I was in my junior year and he was a new frog. That’s what we call freshmen at Samwell. He played hockey as well. I was kind of terrible towards him, because I thought he was a bad player, but once I got to know him I realised that he wasn’t and that I was a dick. And despite my attitude, he still gave me a chance and we became friends. I think I fell in love with him in my senior year, but I didn’t realise. We’re really bad at understanding emotions, don’t you think? »

« … Yeah. » Jack agrees. He slips the ring off Other Jack’s finger, so that he can inspect it more thoroughly. Other Jack lets him. A date is engraved in the ring, together with the text Halo.

« Yeah. It’s the autism. »

« What? » Jack almost drops the ring in shock.

Other Jack doesn’t dwell on it, since he’s lost in his story. He looks absolutely smitten.

« But once I realised, I ran after him and I kissed him. He’s been with me ever since, through thick and thin. I love to rile him up. He teaches me so much. We cheer each other on, and when I won my first Cup, I kissed him in front of everyone and I don’t regret it. And almost two years later I first kissed him, I proposed to him, here at center ice. We initially planned on a long engagement, since Bits just graduated college, but we realised we couldn’t wait any longer. We got married recently, but we will do a bigger ceremony later. Again, we just… got impatient. He’s so good. He’s gorgeous and he’s funny and he’s an amazing hockey player and he’s working on a cookbook now and we recently adopted our dog Amélie and… »

It's as if Other Jack remembers where he is and he trials off.

« Sorry. I got lost in the moment there. »

« It’s… fine. » Jack forces himself to say. It’s not fine. He feels uneasy again.

If Jack had any doubts about this being a hallucination, then those are now out of the window. Other Jack is bisexual and he can get married to a man while playing hockey in the NHL? This isn’t real.

But beforehand, Jack found that thought comforting.

Now, he’s not so sure, and it makes him feel weird.

Other Jack is still reveling in the memories of his life with this Eric Bittle, and he looks so content. Jack watches how relaxed and happy Other Jack is, and for the first time, the thought of this not being real makes him feel sad.

Jack is jealous. He is yearning.

This life of Other Jack sounds nice. He has hockey, but he was right when he said that there are other important things in his life. It sounds like a life Jack can never have. He looks at the ring in his palm and it feels heavy, so he quickly gives it back to Other Jack. He can’t have it.

Jack must look distraught again, because Other Jack asks if he’s alright.

« Your husband sounds lovely. » Jack says back.

« He is. I can’t wait for you to meet him. »

« But this isn’t real. »

Other Jack has a kind look on his face.

« Do you still believe that? »

Jack nods miserably.

« What part of this is so hard for you to believe? Not joining the NHL at 18? »

That is still a hard thing to accept, but Jack realises that that isn’t it.

When Jack does realise why it’s hard to believe, it hits him like a ton of bricks. It’s an unwelcome epiphany.

« You’re happy. » Jack says to Other Jack.

Other Jack sucks in a breath.

Other Jack is happy, and that is hard for Jack to believe. It’s a depressing thought, but it’s there and Jack doesn’t know what to do with it. He doesn’t want to be unhappy. He always believed that once he’s in the NHL, he’ll be happy and nothing else will matter, but now that he’s heard Other Jack talk about how in love he is, Jack realises that yes, Other Jack was right. There is more to life than hockey.

Jack thinks of Kenny.

They have something going on, but it’s fun. It’s physical. It’s, fuck, it’s hockey. It’s not like Other Jack, who is besotted with his husband.

« You are going to be happy, Jack. »

Other Jack pats the free space on the bench. Jack sits down, but he doesn’t meet Other Jack’s eyes. Eye contact is always shitty, but now it’s especially painful.

« I am not you. »

« Aren’t you? » Other Jack asks. « Aren’t I? »

Well. Shit. Isn’t he? Aren’t I?

« If- If this is real… » Jack trails off. He’s in the danger zone now. He’s letting himself think of the possibility.

« Yes? »

« If this is real, then what do I do now? »

« Well. I, uh, don’t remember this. But I barely remember the time I got that bad check in 2007, which is probably why. You’re going to wake up and you’ll have a concussion. You’ll have to sit out the next couple of games, which will piss you off. »

Other Jack chuckles at the memory, but it does indeed sound miserable.

« And then you’ll have the overdose and the rehab. »

« Ah. »

Other Jack puts a hand on Jack’s shoulder.

« Not going to lie, it will be tough. You will be angry. You will be sad. It’s not pretty. But it does get better. You’ll find a therapist you trust, and you learn how to use your meds in a responsible way, and you… you will get clarity on something during the process. »

« The autism? »

« Oh. Yeah. Did I say that already? »

Jack doesn’t really know how to feel about that. It’s not like there is anything wrong with him.

« You’re going to hate that too. » Other Jack says, as if he can read Jack’s mind. Or Other Jack probably remembers that he hated it too. « It’s weird. On one hand, it isn’t a surprise, but on the other hand, it does change your life. And you’re going to think that it’s a bad thing, but trust me, it isn’t. It will make things make sense, and just because it’s different, that doesn’t mean it’s bad. That’s basically my life in one sentence, ha. »

Jack looks at Other Jack. Jack doesn’t really know anything about autism apart from some things he sees on TV. Other Jack is nothing like the people he sees on TV. Other Jack is a full person, and he has a happy and fulfilling life.

Other Jack said it wasn’t a surprise to him, but it is to Jack. But maybe Jack will learn more about it. It looks like Other Jack did.

« Things will occasionally get shitty, and then I mean shitty-shitty, not my best friend Shitty- »

« What? »

« You will still have bad days, but the good days will keep coming and they don’t stop coming. The good days won’t save you from the bad days, but in the same vein, the bad days won’t spoil the good ones. There is more good than bad these days. In the end, you’ll be happy. You’ll have friends for like, a career you love, a comfortable home and the love of your life. It might sound unrealistic now, but that’s not true. Don’t give up. This is real. »

Jack wishes that it were real. He closes his eyes and he lets himself imagine Other Jack’s life. Images flash before his eyes. He sees himself at a frat house with a dude that isn’t wearing a shirt. He sees himself skating around this rink. He sees himself with a fancy camera and he’s walking around campus with a small Asian girl. He sees himself being tackled by two D-men during practise, but it seems like a good-natured tackle. He sees himself going out for coffee with a blond guy. He sees himself hug this blond guy. He sees himself laugh at something that the blond guy said. He sees himself kissing this blond guy in an empty bedroom. He sees himself kissing this blond guy on an ice rink. He sees himself marrying this blond guy.

It's weird. He’s never seen this blond guy, or any of the people in these images, but they feel so real.

If this is real, then maybe life won’t be so bad. He feels himself drift off and a smile forms on his face.

Someone is squeezing Jack’s hand. Jack focuses on the grip. He needs to wake up.

“Sweetpea, are you here?”

Jack slowly opens his eyes. He feels a bit groggy and his vision needs a few seconds to focus, but then he sees Bitty sitting next to his side. Tater’s on the other side. A medic is standing behind Tater.

“What happened?” Jack asks, slurring slightly.

“You got bad hit, Zimmboni,” Tater sounds relieved to see that Jack’s up, “You were out for short while.”

Bitty looks equally relieved and he throws his arms around Jack’s neck.

“Oh honey, I was so worried! You were lying on the ice, unconscious. The doctor says you might have a concussion but she’s going to run some tests, alright?”

The medic moves closer. She looks kind.

“Can- Can Bittle and Tater stay with me?” Jack asks quickly.

“Of course,” the medic answers.

Bitty and Tater do give her some space, so that she can do her work. The medic explains what happened. He was about to pass the puck to Thirdy when one of the Sharks gave him a nasty hip check that catapulted Jack into the air. The game got halted.

“The other guy feels really bad about what happened,” Bitty says, “He’s one of Chowder’s friends.”

Jack shrugs. That’s hockey. This isn’t his first bad hit and it probably won’t be the last. The medic continues her tests and she asks him questions.

“Do you remember what happened, or was this news to you?”

Jack tries to think. What does he remember? He does remember getting hit by someone, but it feels like something else happened. One moment he was on the Falconers’ rink and the next…

The next moment he was at Faber with his younger self.

“Mon dieu,” he mutters.

“Hm?” the medic asks.

Jack shakes his head. The medic finishes her tests and she leaves to document her findings. Tater also decides to go so that he can tell the others that Jack’s awake. That leaves Jack and Bitty.

Jack moves to the side so that Bitty can lie next to him. It’s a bit tricky, since this bed is narrow, but they make it work. Jack wraps his arms around him.

“I was so worried,” Bitty says again.

“I’ve been hit before, love.”

“Yeah, but you didn’t get up!” Bitty sounds strained. It must’ve been scary to see. Jack will probably rewatch the tape to see what it looked like.

Jack pulls Bitty even closer.

“Bits, something weird happened.”

“No shit, honey.”

“No, I mean, I think I had a weird dream, but it wasn’t a dream. I think it was real.”

“You need to give me more than that, Jack.”

“I was in Faber. I remember getting hit and losing consciousness, and when I woke up I was in my old stall in the locker room all alone, which freaked me out.”

“Oh, sweetpea.”

“So I started to search for other people, and I found my younger self on the ice.”

Bitty turns his head to look at Jack. He has a frown on his face.

“Yeah, I know right?” Jack says, “Me, at 17. It should’ve made me freak out even more, but it made sense in a way.”

“It did?”

Jack doesn’t really know how to explain it. When he saw his younger self, it was as if he knew that this had happened before, but as he also said to the Younger Jack, he doesn’t really remember that it happened. He was so worried about giving away too much, but on the same hand, just like his younger self, he wondered if it was real.

He tells Bitty that.

“So, it was like you travelled back in time?”

“I suppose,” Jack says, “Or more like I went back in time by five years and he travelled five years into the future, and we met in the middle. I don’t know. Maybe it was a dream, but it felt so real. He felt so real. And it was hard.”

“Oh?”

Jack nods.

“It was hard to see me. Past me. God, Bits, he was… He was so unhappy. I was so unhappy.”

“Oh honey…” Bitty trails off and he tightens the embrace.

Jack relaxes in his husband’s embrace. If only his younger self could see him now. He has someone he loves. He has someone who comforts him.

Maybe Younger Jack did see it, in a way.

“I’d like to believe it was real,” Jack tells Bitty, “I’d like to believe that I gave my younger self hope, even if it was just for a little while.”

“Even if he forgot about it?” Bitty asks.

He thinks so.

It’s weird to think back to his younger self. Seeing him was jarring. There was a form of anger behind Younger Jack’s eyes, even though Jack doubts that Younger Jack realised. Well, Jack knows for sure that Younger Jack never realised, since he was Younger Jack once. Jack remembers being so fed up with everything around him, while also being afraid of constant failure. He remembers the omnipresent anxiety, and the confusion with the world. He no longer feels lonely, but he remembers the loneliness of thinking that no one would understand him.

Jack doesn’t like to think this way, but when he remembers it, he understands why his past self reached for the pills. It hurt too much to think. It was too anxiety inducing. And back then, Jack didn’t have the support and the knowledge about himself.

Younger Jack is (was?) a seventeen year old closeted guy with undiagnosed autism. All the attention on him didn’t really give him a chance to stop and think about who he was. The world was too much, so he needed to it to quiet down, so that he could focus on the one thing that did make sense to him: hockey.

Jack no longer lives like that. Sure, hockey is still a big deal, but there is more to life. To Jack, it’s almost weird to think that it wasn’t like that. He knows he wasn’t always true to himself, but by now he is. He’s comfortable with his bisexuality and his autism. He talks so openly about it now, since it is part of his life, but Younger Jack must’ve felt so weird to hear him talk so casually about it. Jack didn’t even stop to think about that.

Jack showed Younger Jack a future. A happy one.

“Yes,” Jack answers Bitty, “Yes, I think so.”

“Yeah?” Bitty looks doubtful, “Cause if I would have the opportunity to tell past self that it’d all be okay, I would be pissed to find out if my younger self wouldn’t remember it.”

Jack gets that. He does. Life was rough, and as he told Younger Jack, there are still bad days, but he’s happy. He’s followed the joy and it led him here. Jack doesn’t believe in fate or higher power, but maybe it was meant to be this way.

Besides, he wouldn’t want to jeopardize his life. If Younger Jack had remembered, would things have changed? Would he still be here, like this?

“As I said, if I could give my past self some peace of mind, even if it was temporarily, even if it wasn’t real, I am glad. But I am also happy to be back here in the present with you.”

“Oh, honey!”

Bitty leans in to kiss him.

The two of them lie there, snuggling. Eventually the medic comes back, and a few minutes later, Tater returns to tell him that everyone is happy to hear he’s okay. The medic tells him that he’s indeed concussed and that he needs to take it slow. He will have to sit out a couple of games, and Jack almost laughs, because that is fine with him. Younger Jack, who got hit in 2007, was pissed, but current Jack doesn’t mind too much.

Once he’s clear to go, he says goodbye to his teammates. They’ll discuss the details with the coaches later. Now, he wants to go home with his husband. Jack takes Bitty’s hand in his, and they walk out of the rink.

If only Younger Jack could see him now.

Or, well, he does. Kind of. Younger Jack just has to wait 10 more years, but it’ll be worth it.

End notes: Thank you for reading.

And thank you for Jack Zimmermann, anno 2018, for helping me realise I'm autistic. One day I will write a more in depth fic about it, but I was happy that the original prompter encouraged me to add it here as well. I hope you enjoyed.

#holy fuck I wrote #2023 #omgcp #zimbits #oneshot

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