Title: Anonymous
Author: Foxy Finn
Rating: PG
Archive: You want it, ask for it.
Category: Sports, NHL, Edmonton Oilers, Comrie/York
Feedback: Please…please…I’m dying…
Summary: Summer is over, and an anonymous Oiler sees something he doesn't want to believe. (slash)
Warnings: If you don't have an open mind, keep your mouth shut.
Disclaimer: Talent borrows. Genius Steals. Short little stand alone, in a different universe than Perfect Day. I left the identity of our Oiler to the imagination, but I have narrowed it down. Feel free to make assumptions.

Two are born to cross their paths, their lives, their hearts. If by chance, one turns away, they are they forever lost.

Michael Timmins

They didn’t hide it. They walked in together, holding hands. I guess it was official now.

I’d been talking to Jason when they walked in. He seemed to faze out as they made their entrance. I was staring, eyes burning with jealousy and silent defeat. I’d known for a while, but this small form of public declaration just killed every ounce of hope in my heart.

They buzzed around the room, greeting our teammates. I looked back to Jason, totally unresponsive to what he was saying. Something about how the renovations to his kitchen were going over the original cost. I excused myself, going to grab another beer.

The summer was over, and the team had convened at Ryan Smyth’s house. We hadn’t seen much of each other over the off months. I went home, and spent some time with my family. Training camp would start soon, and then everything would start over again.

But this year would be different.

When the season had ended, I had only heard mild rumors and had never really seen anything that would confirm their relationship. I didn’t want there to be. Maybe I was blind to some of the looks they must have shared. I must have ignored some of the clues that must have been there.

I grabbed a bottle from the cooler, when Mike came up to me. They’d parted with a very loving gaze. I could finally see that now.

"Hey." He smiled.

"Hi." I replied. He pulled me into a quick hug. I remember hugging him when we parted last year. Stupid me, thinking there was every anything behind that. There couldn’t be.

"How’ve you been?" He grabbed a beer himself, and downed a gulp.

I shrugged. "All right. I actually did some conditioning this year."

His eyes sparkled. "You always do conditioning."

I blushed and he laughed. He laughed his beautiful laugh. No matter how much I wanted that laugh to be for me, it wasn’t. "I guess. When did you get into town?"

"A week ago. Mike and I visited his parents in Michigan for a while. We couldn’t wait to get back." He seemed to grin a little wider as he mentioned him. "This should be our year this year, don’t you think?"

I managed a nod. He was glowing. It hurt to look at him with that aura about him. Little shards of my heart kept breaking every time I saw his brown eyes warm to that chestnut shade I thought was meant left only for me.

He opened his mouth to say something, then jumped with mild surprise. York had slipped his arm around his waist. They shared an heartfelt look, before York noticed I was still standing there. Just stupid invisible me.

"Hey man." He greeted me. It felt hollow.

"Hey." I forced out. "Good to see you again."

"Same." He smirked, before turning to Mike. "Ryan wants to see us in the kitchen."

Mike rolled his eyes. "If it’s about that damned bet we had at the Worlds…" He gave me a short look of apology as he was about to leave me. "I’ll see you later."

They left. I watched them go, feeling my knees weaken. I gripped the table, closing my eyes. I needed air. Blindly, I found my way to the patio. The sky was starting to darken with clouds. They churned in the sky like my stomach was. Grey and bland, just like my feelings. Mixtures of pain and betrayal caught in my throat. I wasn’t going to cry. I couldn’t.

I leaned against the railing. I’d waited too long.

I’d wanted to say something to Mike for so long. The words had always been on the tip of my tongue whenever I saw him. I always felt that there was something in his eyes that told me he felt the same way. Was I waiting for him to say something? Maybe I was.

I shouldn’t have waited. I should have said something. Why didn’t I?

I grabbed at my forehead, leaving against the railing with my elbow. There was a knife in my heart, and every time I’d see them from now on it would turn. Turn and turn, going deeper.

"Are you out here all by yourself?" A Swedish accent followed the closing of the screen door.

I wiped at my eyes. "Hey Tommy." I’d already talked to him earlier in the week, when I got back.

He looked at me with raised eyebrows as he leaned against the railing, next to me. "You saw them, huh?"

I scoffed. "Do I have heartbroken written on my back? Is it that obvious?"

"Not really." He regarded me with patience. "You should still say something to him."

"What am I going to say?" I turned and cried. "What should I say? That I’m in love with him, and have been for a long time? That he has captivated my thoughts and every ounce of my being? It hurts to say I love you, and know I’m not going to hear it back."

"So?" Tommy shrugged. "At least you both will know."

I bit my bottom lip, dipping my head. "I don’t think that would work."

He put his hand on my shoulder. "You never know unless you try."

He left me alone. Maybe that’s how I’ll always be. Alone.

Grabbing one of the deck chairs, I moved to sit against the wall. I looked out over Ryan’s backyard, thinking to myself. I could manage, I suppose. I could swallow my feelings, like I’m used to doing. Hold it in a tiny little ball until it explodes.

Some how I managed to stand. It was starting to rain, splattering my shirt. I wanted to stand out in the rain, and scream at the sky, but I couldn’t hide out here all night. I came inside, shutting the door behind me and smoothing my hair.

I sucked back my jealously when I saw them sitting together on the couch, talking with Eric and Janne. Standing across the room, I watched them. Like some spy, I watched them. I only tore my eyes away when Ryan called me over to confirm something.

I answered Ryan’s question with little thought. It should have been me with my arm around Mike’s shoulders, not him. Mike should be looking at me with all the love in the world, not him. He should be, but isn’t. He never will.

Ryan jabbed me with an elbow. "You okay?"

"Huh?" I looked up. "What?"

"You look kind of out of it." He gave me a concerned look. "Are you feeling sick? You’re sort of pale."

"Oh." I touched my forehead. "A little, I guess."

He smirked, giving Anson a sideways look. "Sick just before training camp. Are you faking it?"

I did my best to look surprised and return a half grin. "Maybe I’m hammered."

"You’re not hammered. You don’t get hammered." Anson replied, flatly.

Ryan chuckled, looking at my empty bottle, then studying my eyes. "If you’re not well, just go home. Sleep it off. We’re going to have a long week coming up. Todd can take you home, he’s not drinking."

If I went home, I was just going to bawl my eyes out. If I stayed here, I could live in some state of normalcy. I shook off Ryan’s offer, doing my best to not appear sick. I was sick, but only emotionally.

"I’ll be fine." I said. They accepted that, and went into their fishing trip story that I’d already heard. I ducked away from them, and back into the living room. I saw Mike alone on the couch. Then I saw him wave me over.

I numbly went and sat next to him.

"What else have you been up to? We didn’t talk at all over the break." He grinned.

I shrugged. "Not much really. I never really do much."

Mike rolled his eyes. "Come on, you must have done something. Even Shawn did something."

I smiled. "I guess Shawn has a more exciting life than me. There wasn’t much to do. I went home for a while, and did some charity work. I didn’t get back to Edmonton until last week."

"Summer gets shorter every year." He sighed. "We should’ve done something. There may not have been much time, but we could’ve at least had lunch one day or something. I missed everyone, especially you."

"Really?" Why did I feel this stupid hope? Why hadn’t even the slightest flame been snuffed out. His eyes, his smile. I love everything about him, and he will never know.

"Yeah." He grinned. "You’re a great friend."

Friend. That’s all I am. A friend. "Thanks. You too."

It’s not his fault he looks at me with so much innocence and puts his arm around my shoulder. "No problem."

If I kissed him now, would he be surprised? I looked at him, and he grinned. For a moment, I felt like the center of his world.

"Hey!" York’s cheerful voice hopped into my ears and Mike turned to him. "Trying to give me a hint?"

"No way, babe." Mike grinned, squeezing my shoulder’s lightly, before removing his hand. He accepted his beer that York handed him, smiling brightly at him. "I’d never cheat on you."

York smiled, shaking his head. "You may say that, but can I believe it?"

I’m invisible again. Just a friend. Desperately in love with something I can’t have, but hey, I’m his friend. I’d like to know what I’d be to him if I’d taken a chance and told him how I felt before. I’ll never know.

~End