Almond Flour - Connor Bedard Fanfic
Connor Bedard Fanfiction Summary: Connor Bedard has an allergic reaction during Team Canada camp. Warnings: Severe food allergy, allergic reaction, anaphylaxis discussion, EpiPen use, hospital/ER visit, medical anxiety, panic, swearing, hurt/comfort a/n: this is not x reader, this is just a connor bedard fanfic :P Word Count: 1,348 requests open :)
The first thing Connor does when he arrives at the Team Canada practice site is find the food staff.
Not because he's picky, not because he's difficult, but because he's allergic to nuts.
Severely.
The kind of allergy where "oops" can become an ambulance ride.
So while everyone else is getting settled into rooms and wandering around the facility, Connor finds the catering coordinator.
"Hey, you've probably already been told, but I just wanted to let you know I've got a nut allergy."
The woman immediately nods.
"Of course."
"I carry EpiPens and everything, but just wanted to make sure."
"Absolutely. We'll note it."
"Thanks."
Connor smiles.
Problem solved.
Or so he thinks.
Because Connor's lived with this allergy his entire life.
When he says nuts, he means all nuts.
Peanuts.
Almonds.
Cashews.
Walnuts.
Hazelnuts.
Pistachios.
Everything.
It never occurs to him that someone might hear "nut allergy" and mentally translate it to "peanut allergy."
So he doesn't elaborate.
And unfortunately, neither do they.
A few days later, Team Canada has a long practice.
Everyone is exhausted.
Hungry.
The dining room is packed.
Guys are shoveling food onto plates while talking over each other.
Connor ends up sitting between Macklin Celebrini and Nathan MacKinnon.
Sidney Crosby is across the table.
A few other players are scattered nearby.
The atmosphere is easy.
Relaxed.
The kind of environment Connor loves.
No media.
No cameras.
Just hockey players eating dinner.
Macklin is halfway through telling some story about development camp.
"No, because you're acting like this wasn't embarrassing."
"It wasn't."
Nathan points a fork at him.
"It was."
Connor laughs.
"He's right."
"Traitor."
"You were literally crying."
"I was not crying."
"You were."
Sid is already laughing.
"How old were you?"
"Eighteen."
The entire table erupts.
"That's worse!"
"It's not worse!"
"It is absolutely worse."
Connor's laughing so hard his stomach hurts.
For once he's not Connor Bedard.
Not the face of a franchise.
Not hockey's golden child.
Just another guy at dinner.
Then something feels weird.
He pauses.
His tongue brushes his lip.
Tingling.
Just slightly.
Connor frowns.
Maybe he bit it.
Whatever.
He keeps eating.
Keeps talking.
Keeps laughing.
Five minutes later his ears start itching.
Not outside.
Inside.
Deep.
Impossible.
His smile slowly fades.
No.
His stomach drops.
Not immediately.
Just enough.
A warning shot.
A little voice in the back of his brain.
Pay attention.
Connor shifts in his seat.
Nathan notices first.
"You okay?"
"Hm?"
"You look weird."
"I'm fine."
Nathan stares.
Connor takes another sip of water.
His lips definitely feel weird now.
Warm.
His throat feels...off.
Not tight, he's not whezing, but it's not normal.
He puts his glass down.
"Actually."
The table quiets.
"I'll be right back."
Nobody thinks much of it initially.
Connor stands and heads toward the catering area.
The farther he walks, the worse he feels, because now he's thinking.
He's replaying every bite and worrying about every ingredient.
Every possibility.
A staff member looks up.
"Everything okay?"
Connor forces a smile.
"Yeah. Can I see the ingredient list for dinner?"
"Sure."
The guy grabs a clipboard.
Connor scans the page.
Or tries to.
Before he can even read it the staff member smiles.
"We made sure there weren't any peanuts."
Connor freezes.
Slowly.
"What?"
The staff member's smile falters.
"We made sure there weren't any peanuts."
Connor's heart immediately starts pounding.
"What nuts were in it?"
The man's face falls.
And Connor knows.
Before he says a word.
He knows.
"There was almond flour in the pasta."
Silence.
Connor just stares.
The staff member immediately realizes how bad this is.
"Oh."
"Oh?"
Connor laughs.
One sharp disbelieving laugh.
"OH?"
"I'm so sorry."
"Are you serious right now?"
The man's face goes completely white.
Connor rubs both hands over his face.
"I said nuts."
"I'm so sorry—"
"I said nuts."
"We thought—"
"Just peanuts?"
The staff member visibly winces.
Connor closes his eyes.
His chest feels tighter.
Not dangerous yet.
But enough.
Enough.
Enough.
"Are you fucking kidding me?"
The guy looks like he wants the floor to swallow him.
"Connor?"
Nathan's voice.
Connor turns.
Nathan is already walking over.
Sid is behind him.
So are several other players.
Apparently the raised voices got attention.
Nathan looks between Connor and the horrified food staff.
"What happened?"
Connor laughs again.
That same stressed laugh.
"I'm allergic to nuts."
Nathan nods.
"Yeah?"
"There's nuts in dinner."
The realization slams into Nate immediately.
"Oh, fuck."
Sid is beside them now.
"Do you feel ok?"
Connor gestures vaguely.
"Lips."
"Okay."
"Ears."
"Okay."
"Chest feels tight."
Sid's expression changes instantly.
Captain mode.
No hesitation.
No panic.
Just focused.
"Do you have an EpiPen?"
"Yeah."
"Where?"
"In my bag."
"Go get it."
Connor groans.
"I don't want to."
"Connor."
"I hate this."
"I know."
The surrounding players are now fully invested.
Mitch Marner appears.
"What's going on?"
"Nuts," Nathan says.
Mitch immediately goes pale.
"Oh shit."
A few others are already asking questions.
"Do we call 911?"
"Can you breathe?"
"How bad does it get?"
Connor suddenly feels like everyone's staring at him, which they are, but he hates it.
Because now he's overwhelmed.
And scared.
And embarrassed.
And he doesn't want any of those feelings.
"I haven't had a reaction in four years."
His voice comes out smaller than intended.
Nathan's face softens immediately.
Connor looks away.
"I just forgot how much this sucks."
Sid steps closer.
"Hey."
Connor looks up.
"We aren't worried about whether it sucks."
A beat.
"We're worried about you."
And that almost makes Connor cry.
Which somehow makes everything worse.
The EpiPen comes out.
Connor hates EpiPens.
Everyone with severe allergies hates EpiPens.
Because they hurt.
And because once you use one the hospital trip becomes mandatory.
No negotiating.
No arguing.
No staying home.
Hospital.
Every time.
Connor stares at it.
Nathan notices.
"Need help?"
"No."
"Okay."
"You can look away if you want."
"Absolutely not."
Connor rolls his eyes.
Then presses the injector against his thigh.
Click.
The needle fires.
Connor immediately swears.
"FUCK."
Several players jump.
"Language," Mitch says automatically.
Connor glares.
"Shut up."
Mitch laughs despite looking concerned.
The medication starts working quickly.
Heart racing.
Adrenaline dumping into his system.
The familiar awful feeling.
Shaky.
Jittery.
Uncomfortable.
Safe.
Easier to breathe.
But uncomfortable.
Sid checks his watch.
"We're going."
Connor sighs.
"Yay."
The drive to the ER is strangely quiet.
Sid drives, Mitch rides shotgun, Connor is laying across the seat in the back, holding a bottle of water to his warm forehead.
Trying not to think.
His heart is still pounding from the EpiPen.
His body feels wrong.
Everything feels wrong.
Nobody talks for a few minutes.
Then Mitch turns around.
"How you doing?"
"Like I got stabbed and drank seventeen energy drinks."
"That is essentially what just happened."
Connor manages a small laugh.
Then goes quiet again.
Sid notices through the mirror.
"You okay?"
Connor shrugs.
Not really.
Not emotionally.
Not mentally.
Not any of it.
He stares out the sunroof window.
"Just feels stupid."
"What does?"
"The whole situation."
Neither Sid nor Mitch answer immediately.
Connor keeps staring outside.
"I told them."
His voice is quiet.
"I literally told them."
"I know."
"I've had this allergy my whole life."
"I know."
"I should've been more specific."
That gets an immediate response.
"No."
Sid's voice is firm.
Connor looks up.
"No?"
"No."
"You don't think—"
"No."
Sid glances at him in the mirror.
"If you told them you had a nut allergy, you did exactly what you were supposed to do."
Mitch nods in agreeance.
"One hundred percent."
Connor swallows.
Because logically he knows they're right.
But emotionally?
He still feels like the sixteen-year-old kid sitting in a hospital bed again.
Scared.
Embarrassed.
Wanting his mom.
Wanting somebody else to take care of it.
And somehow Sid and Mitch seem to understand that without him saying it, so nobody makes fun of him and nobody tells him to toughen up and nobody tells him he's overreacting.
They just stay with him, all the way to the emergency room, exactly like teammates are supposed to.