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Lifeline
公開日:
2026-03-28 13:48:56
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Pucking Around with Fate Ruin You
POV: Dual, Khyle and GunnerThe second period was twenty more minutes of the same.Same Hollows grinding them down. Same officials finding creative reasons not to see the worst of it. Same scoreboard sitting at one nothing like a personal insult that nobody could figure out how to answer. The Reapers emptied the bench at the buzzer and filed toward the locker room with the collective energy of men who had been promised a war and delivered one and were currently losing it.Gunner caught up with Khyle in the hallway.He'd been thinking about the shot since it happened, running it back in his head with the particular obsessiveness of someone who knows they were right and needs the internal record to reflect it. The goaltender had been screened by his own defenseman. The lane was there. It was a good shot, a real shot, the kind that went in more often than not when you committed to it, and he'd been committed, had been winding up with everything he had, and then Khyle's voice had come acr
Pucking Around with Fate Rubbing One Out
POV: Dual, Khyle and GunnerThe first period had been a war of attrition and everyone knew it.From the moment the puck dropped, the Hollows had been operating under a mandate that had nothing to do with hockey in the traditional sense. Their new coach Aiden Cross had built something specific in that locker room over the past few months, a team that didn't just want to win but wanted to dismantle. They hit late. They hit dirty. They ran players into corners on plays that had ended two seconds before and smiled at the refs when the whistle blew. They were testing every boundary the officials were willing to enforce and cheerfully crossing the ones that weren't.Shots on net were thirty to twelve by the time the buzzer sounded the end of the first period and none of them felt good.Khyle came off the ice with his temper already past the point of comfortable management. He'd been tagged twice on plays where he hadn't had the puck and the refs had given him the kind of shrug that said the
Pucking Around with Fate Lifeline
POV: GunnerThe engine was still running.Gunner sat in the driver's seat with his right hand wrapped around the gear shift and the heater doing its job and going absolutely nowhere. The parking lot was mostly empty. He'd pulled in at an angle that was probably not technically within the lines, but the snow had covered the markings and he was choosing not to investigate further.He should go in.He knew he should go in. It was a game night. Back to back home games, which meant last night's disaster was still fresh in the league's memory and tonight was the immediate opportunity to do something about it. His team needed him. That was not ego, that was just the arithmetic of his position on the roster. The Reapers needed their enforcer present and functional and not sitting in a running car in the parking lot staring at the middle distance like a man who had misplaced something important and couldn't remember what it was.He was not going in yet.The punching bag hadn't helped. He'd kno
Pucking Around with Fate Dead Air
POV: KhyleThe parking lot was almost empty.That was the thing about arriving early. The lot had a particular quality at this hour, the specific stillness of a space that was designed for crowds and currently held almost none, the overhead lights doing their job anyway, throwing pale circles down onto fresh snow that hadn't been disturbed yet by the arrival of nineteen thousand people and all their accumulated noise and energy.Khyle walked across it and tried to feel something other than what he was feeling.The day had been fine. Nothing bad had happened. He'd slept, eaten, dealt with the ordinary administrative texture of his life outside of hockey, the calls and the errands and the small domestic machinery that kept everything running. It had all been fine. Normal. The kind of day that should have left him in a reasonable baseline state for an evening game.Instead he felt like he was walking toward something he already knew the outcome of, and the knowing was the worst part.He
Pucking Around with Fate Downward
POV: KhyleThe plan had seemed so clean when he'd made it.Just be yourself, he'd told himself, sitting in that locker room with his shoe lace in his hands and the quiet certainty of a man who had just figured something out. Let Gunner deal with the consequences of who Khyle was. Don't fight it. Don't force it. Just exist in the man's orbit and let the friction do what friction did.What he had not accounted for was that the friction would do it to both of them.The first week after the practice hit had been almost manageable. Khyle had gone out, played his game, done what he did, and watched Gunner's jaw tighten every time he scored. It had been almost satisfying. Almost. The problem was that satisfying Gunner's irritation required being close enough to observe it, and being close enough to observe it meant being close enough to observe everything else too, which was its own separate category of problem that Khyle was aggressively not thinking about.Then the second week happened.He
Pucking Around with Fate Break Him
POV: KhyleHe took his time getting dressed.It was partly because every movement required a conscious decision from muscles that had filed their formal notice of resignation sometime around the second conditioning set, and partly because he wasn't in a hurry to be anywhere that might involve additional interaction with the blue-haired architect of his current rib situation.He found his black joggers in his bag and stepped into them, then reached for his shirt and worked it over his head with the careful movements of a man managing a shoulder that had opinions about being moved quickly. The locker room was emptying out around him, players heading for the parking lot in ones and twos, the noise level dropping as the space opened up.He was going to do nothing.That was his plan, and he'd arrived at it with the particular clarity that came from being too tired to consider alternatives. Nothing. No confrontation. No retaliation. No corner conversations with his voice lowered and his tem
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