#holding my ‘sad jack Zimmermann!’ work: please read this

[ohyoufool]

How are you liking Vegas? a reporter asks, spittle flying into Jack’s face.

Jack resists the urge to wipe it off, but it’s a near thing. He played twenty-three minutes tonight, scored twice, took four pills; even so, this guy looks about twice as sweaty as he is.

His eyes stick on the mismatched stitches in his jacket collar for so long that the idiot asks him the question again. He can’t remember what he says in response, but it’s either good enough or mean enough to get the guy to leave. If he were with it, he’d thank his parents for the years of media training to bail him out, or possibly for nothing at all.

The thing is, he’s never been held to anything less than perfection. It seems unfair that someone was allowed to enter the dressing room with scuffed shoes, after all he gave.

Read more >> creation myth

24k, complete | by @montrealmadison and @ohyoufool

[justlookfrightened]

How hard could it be? Part 16

Start from the beginning

Part 15

Bitty stared at the email on his laptop screen. Then he toggled to a new window, the one with the photo of Jack Zimmermann, number 1 on the Providence Falconers, raising the Stanley Cup in 2018.

Yep. Definitely the same guy. The hair was even about the same length, although the Jack Zimmermann in the pie photo was clean shaven. He was was wearing a Falconers blue polo shirt, and clearly holding the camera -- probably his phone -- at arms length. It was awkward and goofy and utterly adorable … and holy hell, Bitty had to stop thinking this way.

He knew better than to fall for a straight boy. And Jack Zimmermann, first-line center for the Providence Falconers, was straight. Definitely. Almost definitely.

Because sometimes it almost seemed like Jack Zimmermann, winner of the 2018 Conn Smythe trophy, was flirting. Or trying to flirt. With him. Eric Bittle. Formerly the first out NCAA men’s hockey captain, baker extraordinaire and now man-of-all-work for his beloved MooMaw.

Nah. Bitty had to have been reading him wrong. Bitty had seen a few of his post-game interviews and, much as he hated to say it, Jack Zimmermann was about as flat and affectless as they came. No matter how much passion he put into hockey (and that Game 7 had been a thing of beauty), it all seemed to get locked away once he stepped off the ice.

He must just be awkward and bad at people. Which was sad, for him, because he really seemed to want to try. Why else would he want to bake so badly? Baking was something people did to make other people happy, and maybe, in Bitty’s experience, to make other people like them. Also to get what they wanted, like a seat in Alice Atley’s senior seminar when then they were sophomores, but Bitty was fairly certain Jack Zimmerman wouldn’t need pie for that. He could just give the school enough money to put his name on a building or something.

To confirm his impression of Jack Zimmermann’s communication skills -- and if they were going to keep talking or writing or whatever, Bitty had to stop thinking of Jack Zimmerman by his full name -- he searched Jack Zimmerman NHL interview.

The first hit was a videoconference interview recorded and posted the day before with Jack Zi-- 

Jack and a few other stars.

Bitty’s first thought was that Jack seemed slightly less wooden than usual, maybe because Toews and Crosby were both sticking to the pr-approved script as well, and Jack seemed good by comparison. His second was that Jack and Kent Parson clearly knew each other, with the way Parson was ribbing him about his reading habit. The third was that Jack’s pie -- the very pie from the picture Jack sent -- was visible behind Jack.

Too bad nobody brought it up.

Maybe Jack didn’t want anyone to say anything, maybe they’d been warned? Jack wouldn’t want the whole world to know he was learning to bake from Bitty. Bitty had taken down the videos he’d done when he was younger, the ones where he mooned over his crush of the week, but most of his regular viewers knew he was gay. Jack had watched at least a few videos. And Bitty’s appointment as captain last spring got a mention on ESPN SportsCenter, to Bitty’s great surprise.

But if Jack was worried about that, why hadn’t he put the pie somewhere else?

It didn’t matter if Jack was a rich, famous, handsome straight guy, Bitty decided, or even if Bitty’s stomach made a little flip when he saw Jack’s name in the email inbox. He could be living in the next town and volunteering to lead the pride parade and, during this coronavirus quarantine, he would be just as unattainable. 

The important thing was he wanted to get better at baking a pie, and that was something Bitty could help with.

He went back to the email and read past the first paragraph in order to write back. He’d try to take his time and strike the right note.

Wait. Canned pie filling? What was he thinking?

He started typing.

Dear Jack,

Under no circumstances should you use canned pie filling, cherry or any other flavor. Fresh is best, and frozen cherries, blueberries and other fruits can be an acceptable substitute if fresh, in-season fruit is not available. Canned fruit -- not pie filling, butt actual fruit, packed in water -- is your last resort.

Promise me, Jack, or I can’t help you anymore.

Okay, now that that was out of the way, he could move on.

I’m not surprised you had a setback. That’s how progress works when you’re learning a new skill, right? You start and you have no idea what you’re doing, so your second effort is better than the first most of the time, but then sometimes it gets worse before it gets better. You have to make mistakes if you are going to learn from them.

The pie in the picture looks so much better than the first one you made, and I’m sure Tater (Mashkov? I think?) will like it. As for the pies in the freezer, I give you permission to trash the ones that don’t meet your standards. Don’t think of them as a waste of food or time, think of them as learning experiences. You want to save freezer space for things you want to eat.

I’m flattered you think so highly of my hockey skills. They’re nothing compared to yours, but are immensely better than they were when I arrived at Samwell and was so scared of being checked I’d collapse on the ice. My teammates and my coaches helped me through that, but that’s probably most of the reason I skate so fast. They couldn’t hit me if they couldn’t catch me!

I’m sure you’re busy even during the lockdown, but please feel free to let me know if I can help you. Maybe you could let me know if you are planning a new kind of pie so we can talk it through before you start?

Bitty

Part 17

Now posting on AO3

[forabeatofadrum]

Zimbits May Update: Card

Notes: It is morning June 21st, 2019. I know that Check, Please! is going to update today, but since it always updates after midnight in my time zone, I’m chill. I want to write Zimbits Updates fics for this update, but also for Coach I that dropped end May. 

I have time.

Fast forward to 18:00 that day. I am in a restaurant and I read on plurk that the update has dropped and that it’s sad. Well, goddamnit.

--

Bitty is staring at the debit card in his hands. It’s not his. He found it on his way to work. It was just lying there on the pavement.

J.L. Zimmermann

How big are the odds that Bitty is holding a lost debit card with the name J.L. Zimmermann on it. Surely, Bitty can’t be a 100% certain that this is his Jack Zimmermann, his ex-boyfriend, but the L. indicating a middle name is too big of a coincidence.

But Bitty doesn’t have time to dwell on it. He has to go to work, but when he’s there, he’s gonna find the rightful owner of this debit card so that Bitty can return it.

And sure, there’s a chance that the rightful owner is his ex, but hey, life sucks. But why would Jack even be here in Boston? Bitty still keeps up with Jack’s career. He knows that Jack isn’t playing in Boston right now. In fact, he should be in San Jose. Chowder is torn between cheering for the Falconers or for the Sharks.

Still, this name... it’s too big of a coincidence. The J. and the L. and the Zimmermann?

Luckily for Bitty, he has access to a computer on the job. Being the social media expert for a bakery chain has its perks. 

The first thing Bitty does is Googling the Falconers. 

Yes, they’re currently playing against the Sharks. Bitty lets out a small sigh of relief. There’s no way that this card belongs to Jack.

His feeling of relief changes to a feeling of sadness.

Bitty shakes his head. No, no, no. He’s not sad about not seeing Jack. Jack’s the one who lost touch with basically everyone in Samwell. Bitty shouldn’t want to see him.

But the feeling lingers.

Bitty’s about to continue his search for J.L. Zimmermann when a small headline catches his eyes.

Jack Zimmermann #1 doesn’t play for the weekend

Bitty clicks on the headline before he can stop himself and he skims the article. Apparently, Jack had to leave last minute due to a family emergency.

That doesn’t mean anything, though. Jack has no family in Boston and there are probably no connecting flights from San Jose to Boston to Montreal.

Then it hits him.

Jack does have family here.

Bitty grabs for his phone and he dials. After three rings, Lardo picks up.

“Bits?”

“Is Shitty okay?” Bitty blurts out.

There’s a small beat of silence before Lardo asks: “How did you know?”

“I don’t know anything, Lards,” Bitty says, “So something did happen?”

“We... we haven’t told anyone yet? We’re- it all happened to fast and there’s all this stress. I’m sorry. We were going to tell you! And the rest of the team!”

“Lardo, what is going on?” Bitty yells out and some of his colleagues do not look pleased.

“Shits got ambushed yesterday evening while he was on his way home,” Lardo says quickly and she starts crying, “They hurt him real bad. He’s in the hospital now. He just woke up.”

“Oh my God, is he okay?” Bitty asks.

To his surprise, Lardo laughs through the tears. “Bits, when he woke up, he immediately started talking about this situation in relation to white, male privilege, so I think he’ll be fine. We’re all just a bit in shock. We were going to put it on the groupschat today, but as you can imagine-”

“No, no, I fully understand!” Bitty says, “Good to hear that Shitty’s already on his feminist rant.”

“How did you know something was wrong?”

Bitty thinks about the debit card in his pocket. It’s a real long shot, especially since Bitty knows that Jack and Shitty haven’t talked in a while either. If he’s wrong, he’s going to sound really stupid.

“Jack is sitting out a play because of a family emergency.”

Silence.

Bitty’s about to apologise for such a stupid suggestion when Lardo says: “Yes, he’s here.”

“How?”

Lardo snorts. “Jack’s still Shitty’s second emergency number. The paramedics on sight couldn’t contact me, because I was in a class, so they called the second. Shitty never changed it, or maybe he just didn’t want it to change. You can imagine the shock on my face when I saw that I had a couple of missed calls from Jack fucking Zimmermann. The guy fucks off for a couple of years, and suddenly he’s calling me.”

Lardo sounds a bit bitter.

“Called from the airport. Told me that Shits’s in the hospital and that he’s on his way. He arrived a little after midnight and now he’s out to get us food. It’s been a weird couple of hours. How on Earth did you know that Jack’s family emergency is here?”

“I found his debit card on the ground.”

Lardo snorts. “Shit, really?”

Bitty laughs too. The situation is too absurd for words.

“I’ll come return it during my break, okay? Are visits allowed?”

“Shitty’s pretty banged up, but he’s fine and he’ll appreciate it.”

“I’ll see you then.”

--

Bitty hears laughing.

Lardo and Jack are laughing.

The elevator doors open and Bitty can see Lardo and Jack sitting on those terrible plastic hospital chairs and they’re laughing.

It’s like old times.

Lardo is the one who sees him watching.

“Bitty!” she calls him.

Jack’s laugh drops.

“Lards,” Bitty pulls her into a hug.

Jack has stood up and he’s standing awkwardly besides them. 

“Bittle,” he says and nods.

Bitty nods back. Is he supposed to hug him? Or give him a firm handshake? Or is nodding back sufficient enough?

“No worries, the awkwardness goes away,” Lardo says.

“After yelling,” Jack sighs.

“After I was done yelling at him for going AWOL out of nowhere,” Lardo nods as a confirmation, “There were tears.”

“I got your card,” Bitty says and he hands Jack his lost debit card.

“Haha, yes, oops,” Jack says awkwardly, “Must’ve lost it when I was looking for food. When I got back, Lardo told me that I’d lost it.”

“Yeah.”

There’s an uncomfortable silence. Lardo rolls her eyes and she coughs loudly.

“I’m going to see if Shitty’s awake. You two fight it out.”

She leaves them alone and it’s the first time they’re alone since the break up.

“You look nice,” Jack says awkwardly.

“Thanks.”

“You do.”

“I know. Thank you.”

“I assume that guys are lining up for you, eh?” Jack jokes, but it’s even more awkward.

“Jack.”

“Sorry. Too soon.”

“Besides, the guys aren’t good enough,” Bitty sighs. They weren’t you, he adds bitterly. Bitty’s somehow held out for Jack, but now that he’s actually here, it’s weird.

Bitty’s always dreamed of some over-the-top romantic reunion, but now they’re standing in a bleak hospital corridor and Bitty’s not feeling as hopeful and he expected.

“Right.”

Bitty looks away and sits down. These chairs really are uncomfortable.

“I’m sorry for, uhm, as Lardo put it, going AWOL out of nowhere.”

“It wasn’t out of nowhere for me,” Bitty reminds him. And it’s true. The others still don’t fully know why they broke up. They don’t know that they had a huge fight about their relationship. Bitty did not want to be seen as Jack’s boyfriend all the time. Jack didn’t understand, since Jack took care of him. But that’s not what Bitty wanted.

So they fought.

And Bitty walked out.

And Jack stopped talking to everyone.

Bitty doesn’t fully regret it, since now he has a great career of his own in a city that he loves, but he does regret not waiting for them to talk it out. He never wanted to break up, but back then, it felt like the only option. But when Bitty tried to reach out, Jack had gone AWOL, as Lardo puts it.

“I never-” Jack sits down as well and he looks at the floor.

“You never what?”

“I never should’ve let you go,” he says sadly, “I miss you.”

Bitty’s been waiting to hear those words for years, but not in this setting. He leans back and he waits for Jack to continue.

“When you left, I was so angry. I couldn’t understand why you’d leave me. But now I do and I feel so incredibly stupid for not understanding.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t think you’d want me to.”

“Well, I did.”

Jack looks up from the floor in shock. “You did?”

“In fact, I tried to reach you, but you were gone. You didn’t answer anyone’s messages. No one was able to reach you, Jack. I almost called your parents, but I thought that’d be a bit overkill. It took a lost debit card for me to find you again!”

Jack blinks a couple of time. He seems stunned.

Bitty tries to slow his breathing. He hadn’t even noticed that he was getting worked up.

“I fucked up.”

“Yes,” Bitty says, “You did.”

“If I hadn’t lost my debit card, we wouldn’t have talked.”

“Well, maybe Shitty would’ve dragged you along,” Bitty shrugs.

Jack laughs slightly. “Shits was convinced he was high when he saw me. I don’t blame him. It took an emergency phone call to make me realise that I should’ve kept in touch.”

“And it took a lost debit card for you to talk to me,” Bitty reminds him.

“Sorry. I can imagine that you don’t want anything to do with me anymore,” Jack says sadly and Bitty frowns, “After Shitty’s out of the hospital, I’ll be out of your hair.”

Bitty punches his shoulder.

“What was that for?”

“Did you not listen?” Bitty’s frown deepens, “I did not want to lose contact either. I feel so stupid for walking out on an impulse.”

“You...” Jack trails off.

“Look, I’m happy. I love my job. My friends are here, but I miss you too.”

Jack looks surprised, but then his expression shifts to something hopeful. “You do?”

“Yeah. When I first thought that the card belonged to a different J.L. Zimmermann, I got sad at the idea of not seeing you,” Bitty admits.

“Luckily, I’m J.L. Zimmermann.”

“Look, I think we need to talk and think this through, because I don’t think we can just continue where we left.”

Jack hums in agreement.

“But if you agree, I’d like to at least try.”

“I’d like that.”

They fall silent once again, but this time, it isn’t awkward. Bitty feels strangely hopeful as well. This is not the reunion he always dreamed of, but it’s a start.

A door opens.

Lardo peeks her head out.

“Oh, you two seem okay. Shits is awake and he’d love to see Bitty,” she says.

They follow Lardo inside and Bitty tries not to gasp when he sees Shitty. Shitty doesn’t seem to mind, though. He smiles widely and he spreads his arms.

“My brahs!” he says happily.

“You’re way too cheerful for someone who got ambushed, Shits,” Jack says.

“You two are here, you dumb fuck. I can’t not be cheerful,” Shitty says as if it’s obvious, “M’Dude, I’m so glad I never changed my second emergency contact. I mean, not that I ever wanted to give anyone a reason to use it, but shit, it worked out well. How’d Bitty know that I’m stuck here, though?”

“It’s a weird story involving a lost debit card,” Bitty says.

“Huh, you have to tell me that,” Shitty says and he moves around in the bed to make place for someone to join him, “Come on, Jack, like old times.”

Jack snorts, but he climbs into the bed next to Shitty and he starts telling him the story of how he lost his debit card this morning.

Lardo and Bitty watch the two, talking as if nothing ever happened.

“This feels right,” Lardo whispers.

Yes, it does.