He was ready for me. Fists were flying again, and we went down, and then?—
Oh. Shit.
The crunch seemed to echo through my skull a heartbeat before pain exploded up the side of my face. I instantly tasted copper, and when I tried to shout, the pain got worse—I couldn’t move my jaw.
That wasn’t good.
There was chaos around me. An EMT was over me almost immediately, which had me confused for a moment. Had I completely lost track of time? But then, through the red haze of pain, I remembered Vasily going down, and—fuck, the EMTs must’ve already come out for him, which meant he was hurt. Like, really hurt.
I tried to say his name, tried to ask about him, but the attempt at speaking had my vision clouding over with red. Holy fuck, my mouth hurt. My face hurt. My whole damn skull hurt.
“Wils,” Ryan said. “Look at me.Look at me, Taylor.”
I stilled, then blinked a few times and found the trainer staring down at me beside the EMT.
“Don’t try to move your jaw, okay?” he said. “We’re going to stabilize it as best we can, and it’s probably going to hurt.”
I wanted to say it already fucking hurt, but that meant talking. Never mind.
They did… I don’t know, something to stabilize my jaw and my neck. All I knew was it hurt like hell, and even when they stopped, it was seriously uncomfortable. And then, like thesadistic assholes they were, they helped me to my feet. My vision swam and my balance was gone. Two of my teammates appeared on either side of me, and with my arms slung around their shoulders, I was able to stay upright as they guided me toward the Zamboni gate. From there, I leaned on Ryan and the EMT. Someone had me lift one skate, then the other. Blade covers, probably.
That was when it fully registered in my cloudy brain that I was going to the hospital. Nobody gave a fuck if I damaged my blades at this point, but the covers would keep the EMTs and emergency room staff from cutting themselves.
Hospitals sucked, but at least now I’d get to lie down. There was always a stretcher nearby.
But they didn’t put me on a stretcher. They just walked me out, walked me for what seemed like miles, until we finally reached an ambulance. Still no stretcher. And the EMT had me sit on the bench along the side.
I was about to ask if I could lie across the bench when rattling wheels turned my head, and my heart jumped into my throat.
Vasily.
He looked absolutely miserable. His right leg was splinted, wrapped, taped, and probably held in place by concrete and rebar or something. Oh no. How bad was he hurt?
The medics pushed the stretcher into the ambulance and locked it in place. One joined me on the bench. The other went around to the driver seat.
I took Vasily’s hand. I wanted to say something reassuring, but my head was still swimming from the pain in my face, and I couldn’t move my jaw anyway. So, I settled for just squeezing his hand.
He looked up at me, eyes full of pain and confusion, then surprise, then concern. “Shit. Taylor. Are you okay?”
I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t even nod, so I just squeezed his hand.
Right then, Ryan got in, which made the ambulance that much more crowded.
“Uh,” the EMT who’d brought me in scowled. “Are you?—”
“Translator,” Ryan said simply, and gestured at Vasily.
The EMT still scowled, but he nodded, apparently grudgingly accepting that Ryan needed to come along.
I was confused for a moment. Vasily was fluent in English.
But he was also stressed out and in pain. That, and there was a difference between fluent in English and fluent inmedicalEnglish; I’d played with a Quebecois guy who was as fluent as they came, but he’d had to take a translator to any medical appointments.
At least I knew Vasily wouldn’t be alone.
We were taken in separate directions as soon as we got to the ER. Ryan went with Vasily. Though language barriers weren’t an issue and I could understand what anyone said to me, I could barely speak. That had me worried about being here alone, but that worry didn’t last long; maybe fifteen minutes after I’d arrived, one of the assistant coaches, Coach Bower, showed up.
“How you feeling, kid?” From the slight grimace, he wasn’t expecting me to tell him I was fine.
