everybody needs somebody (to lean on)
Pairing: Sidney Crosby x Reader
warnings: kinda angsty, sid is not the best communicator, the highs and lows of being a generational prodigy.
part one | part two | part three
A/N; i had a vision for this and then this story quickly ran away from me lmfao sorry for any formatting or spelling errors i am exhausted and didnt bother to spell check. could see me writing a part two of this that will depend very much on the result of game 5.
Sidney Crosby didnât lose, he didnât know how not to excel, which was exhausting for those around him. So, when the rare occasion if his losing happens, he is moody. He is doom and gloom and snippy with everybody, not because he blamed his teammates, but it was disgust with himself. Sidney took every loss personally, and he took every opportunity o bet himself up over them. He had barely won four nations the year previous, then lost the Olympics, and yeah, he still medaled but he was injured and it was silver, a loser medal. At least you had to win a game to win bronze. But the penguins had managed to scrape their way to the playoffs, when nobody, including themselves, were expecting them to. Sidney knew this was likely the last ride for the other two members of what was once the core four, now the trinity, and he knew he wanted this particular cup more than anything he had ever wanted or won before.
You knew all this, knew that trying to comfort him would be useless. It isnât like he was ever rude to you when he got in the funk of failure, just distant. You hadnât been able to attend the first two games of the playoffs, even thought they were at home, so you were not there for the initial aftermath of devastation that hit when they lost both home games to start the battle of Pennsylvania. Then the next game was in Philly so you couldnât make that one either, and they dropped that game as well. This was it, game four, and the Penguins were on the verge of being swept. You knew you couldnât miss this game, so you begged and pleaded and bribed until a coworker finally agreed to pick up a shift, if you promised a team signed jersey. The fact said coworker wasnât even a hockey fan and just wanted to resell it irked you, but you took the win where you could.
You wanted to surprise Sidney, who hadnât even responded to you in days. Honestly, thank God you had other members of the teamâs numbers to make sure he was still functioning. So, you decided making it to this game would be a surprise and finally get to wear that wag jacket that had been customized for you. After arriving in Philadelphia and heading to the arena you make your way down for warmups, being in Philly you donât have a badge like you do for home games, so you decide to just stand around like a fan until Sid sees you. He doesnât at first, too locked in his own head to be thinking about fans.
Then he notices Kris and Geno laughing, and a few other teammates waving at the same area. His curiosity got the best of him after awhile and he finally skates over to see what was going on and then he sees it, well he sees you. Sidney freezes, shocked to see you there, to have you here on a night he is stressing out over on crazy amounts, and it vanishes. The stress, the pressure, the anger at himself for not being better. Usually, heâd be annoyed at a break in routine but seeing you snaps something into place. Suddenly he doesnât care about anything else other than the relief of knowing youâre here, that you love him enough to likely bribe a coworker to come see him play, that you donât measure your love for him on his success. A warm smile overtakes his face and he taps the glass in front of you, he canât say anything with the glass separating you two, but he hopes that he can convey his gratefulness. You being there, it calmed him. A sense of warmth and love overtook the cold and all-consuming pressure he felt in his chest.
Turns out letting go of that pressure would be helpful in the end, seeing as he scores in the first period. Then by some miracle, they win. The Penguins do not get swept by their biggest rival. They get to keep playing, Sid gets to keep trying. He gets to keep playing with his two best friends, at least for one more game. The locker room isnât solemn like it has been, and people arenât treating Sidney like a livewire. Geno chirps him about you, about how Sid can score again when you show up for games, and the other members of the team demand he makes sure you would attend every game, or else. He laughed it off and left the locker room, hoping to find you waiting and frowning when he didnât.
âWeâre in Philly cap, she doesnât have privileges hereâ Clifton says. Sid frowns and then cusses under his breath pulling out his phone to text you.
He tucks his phone back in his pocket going to sit through the same inane questions he always gets asked post game, win or loss, but at least he has something to look forward to. One more game to fight back in, and you waiting in the hall for him, his strong and quiet steadfast supporter. He smiles to himself, missing a question and hears a laugh from Kris, who makes a joke about someone special in the stands tonight that makes Sid flush.
After media is finally done, he practically sprints from the room, and the second he sees you he somehow speeds up even more. You donât notice at first until a very large hand wraps around your waist, and you yelp as youâre lifted and spun. When your overly excited boyfriend calms down, you giggle hugging him.
Youâre both silent for a moment, just breathing in each otherâs scent, comfortable in the silence for the first time in days. Then he speaks, a quiet yet earnest whisper of âthank youâ, and a kiss on the lips. You smile softly and shake your head.
âNothing to thank me for.â You can tell he disagrees with that particular statement, but he doesnât argue. Instead, he kisses you hard, the kind of kiss a person dreams of from the day they learn about kissing. Passion and love flows through both of you, and everybody else in the hallway can feel it rolling off both of you. When he finally pulls his mouth from yours, youâre both silent again, other than a few deep breaths. âMissed youâ is all you can mutter, and you hide your face in his chest before pulling away with a wrinkled nose. âYou wreak.â
Sidney laughs, shaking his head âWell I did just play a full game of hockey.â
âDo they not have showers in Philadelphia?â He groans at the question, rolling his eyes.
âYou really are the worst; you know that right?â
âAnd youâre in love with me anyways, must be some kind of glutton for punishmentâ
He smiles fondly and kisses your forehead, âMust be.â
The team is flying back to Pittsburgh, but Sid manages to get permission to drive with you back tonight. Once youâre in your car, Sid refusing to let you drive as usual, the silence breaks.
âIâm sorry for being an absent dick this week, y/nâ he sighs throwing his head back. âI know theres no real excuse for it. I just know that I hate that I canât control everything. That I cant singlehandedly carry the teamâ
âSid nobody expects that of you besides yourself.â You put your hand on his firm thigh and squeeze. âYou cannot do everything by yourself, there is too many other players on your team to blame just you for something.â
âBut-â
âSidney, you are not required to suffer in silence or alone. You donât need to brood silently, thatâs why I am here.â You rub your hand up and down his thigh, not trying to start something like that, just trying to provide comfort. âYou let the world sit upon your shoulders and sometimes you need to remember youâre just one guy.â You pause leaning over to him, kissing his cheek and snuggling your face into the crook of his neck. âLet me carry some of that weight, babe. Thatâs what partners are for.â
Sidney stays silent, parked in a random parking lot in Philadelphia, exhausted and sad. He knows youâre right, but he also knows no matter what he does, he will never deserve someone as genuinely kind and loving as you. He runs his hands through your hair kissing your forehead, before finally speaking. âI donât know how to just..â He pauses sighing. âIâve never been one to just let go. Itâs hard for me to decompress when Iâm not on the verge of being humiliated in the first round, let alone when it is happening. The pressure as built nonstop since I was a kid and iâve always just compartmentalized.â Another pause, and a shake of his head. âI have never had a second in my life to just breathe. Not a moment to not be Sidney Crosby, or Sid the Kid, you know? When youâre supposed to be a prodigy, nobody expects you to break, or to snap. So iâve always just kept it to myself and bottled it up like crazy.â
You look at him sadly and cradle his face in your hands. âWell, I expect you to break and be human and need reassurance and comfort, Sid. In fact, it scares me a lot more when you donât allow yourself to have emotions. It isnât healthy to keep yourself from that. When you need to let it out, do it with me, I want to be that safe space for you.â
Instead of responding he kisses you, not rushed and swoon worthy like he had earlier, but soft yet firm. A trusting kiss that put everything he couldnât allow himself to say yet into action, when he was at a loss for words. When he pulls away, he makes sure you get sat in your seat properly, buckling you up himself. As you start the long drive back home, you watch him and smile.
Sidney catches the sight of your smile out of the corner of his eye, confused. âWhatâs that smile for?â
âYou talked about your feelings and were open with me. Iâm proud of you.â For some reason, that makes him flush bright red. Giggling quietly, you curl up in your seat drifting off to the sound of him humming along to the radio, and hope with all your heart this revelation of open honesty would stay longer than the drive.
