Title: Collapsed in Love Chapter 10: To The End
Author: Foxy Finn ([email protected])
Rating: R for swearing
Archive: @ my site http://www.geocities.com/foxy_finn44/
Category: Sports, RPS, NHL, Edmonton Oilers, Comrie/York
Feedback: Please? I'll cry. Seriously.
Summary: The final part.
Author's Note: There. Done. Kaput. Dedicated to Gene Principe, the Sportsnet guy who covers the Oilers. I snuck down to the Air Canada Club at Skyreach and hugged that man. Damn I'm good. And not arrested either. All other previous parts are at my site.

Blur
To the end

~Comrie~

I had to keep walking. If I stopped walking I'd start to think and end up turning around and going back to the hotel.

I was shivering, walking down streets that I didn't know at all. I was tired, but my mind was winning out over my body. I couldn't take going back right now. If I could walk back to Edmonton, I would. If it meant avoiding the inevitable, I'd do it.

Mike hurt me. All the time I've known him and loved him, he never hurt me. This is the worst feeling in the world, but I somehow feel like it's my fault. How can it be my fault? That's stupid. It's him. He's changed.

Paul's changed him.

The two most important people in my life are betraying me.

Eric knew and didn't tell me anything. He might as well have put a blindfold on me and punched me in the stomach.

It feels like I have nothing. But it's an awkward nothing. It's this gnawing emptiness that's daring me to blame myself for other people's perceptions of what's best for me. They're not thinking of me. I should have known that from the start.

I found a bench and collapsed onto it. I hoped that no one would find me so I could just die, alone in the cold. I closed my eyes, trying to figure out what I was going to do. Could I go back? I didn't want to. The pressure on my chest wouldn't let up. This was how Eric felt that first day. It has to be.

Running footsteps stopped next to me and I couldn't breathe again.

"Mike?" He'd found me. The familiar voice was softened with apology. I opened my eyes, slowly. Mike stood next to the bench, his face flushed from running. He took a few deep breaths, trying to regain his composure.

The look I gave him must have stabbed him in the heart, because he winced at my glare. Good. Feel pain. I should've slept with Eric again just to get back at you.

"Babe, please can we talk? I should've told you. I should've." He approached me, drawing closer to where I was sitting.

"Do you remember when Eric saw us when you first got traded here? Remember how he hit me?" He nodded and I continued, glaring. "I want to do worse to you."

He was silent. White mist slipped out of his mouth as he stared at me. The emotions in his eyes were mixtures of regret, anger, and sympathy that I'd never seen before. I shivered and turned away from him.

"Do you want my coat?" He asked, quietly.

I broke, jumping off the bench and right into him. I shoved him, and he stumbling back a few feet without falling. "How could you do this to us!"

He was speechless. "I didn't mean any of it. Please believe me."

"I can't believe anything you say anymore!" I yelled, pouring my energy into not crying.

He scoffed, showing his frustration. "You're not perfect either, Mike. No matter what you try to convince yourself, you've got flaws too."

"I know I've got flaws." I glared, feeling my body settle into my stance.

"So do I." He started. "I never wanted to do anything with Paul. You have to believe that."

I shook my head. "I don't have to believe anything you say."

"Mike please. I never meant to hurt you." He took another step towards me, closing the distance.

I dropped my head to stare at the ground. "I thought everything was perfect, but now I know that you couldn't get over the fact that I moved on after we left Michigan and you couldn't. You've just been waiting for the right opportunity to get back at me."

"Is that what you think?" He asked, surprised. "Mike, we broke up in Michigan because you couldn't be apart from me for like three months."

"You were just afraid of commitment." I looked up and glared.

He didn't reply. We just stared at each other, trying to make figure things out without having to speak.

He broke first. "Mike, can we just give it another chance?"

"Why are you apologizing now? If you would've been so willing to talk at the beginning, we wouldn't have had to get to this point." I wanted to believe him. I wanted to believe that we could pretend that none of this happened, with Paul, with Eric, and with all the hurtful thoughts we've shared. But I just couldn't do it.

"You ran, Mike." He replied, truthfully. "You ran to Eric."

I swallowed, trying to come up with something to throw back at him. I mumbled to myself. "I didn't mean to."

"I know." He replied, quietly.

"I don't want to be standing here, having this conversation." I said.

"I know." He nodded. "How can we fix this?"

We were both thinking it, but I was the one that said it. "We can't."

His shoulders dropped. "Yes we can."

"You don't believe that." I answered. "And maybe I don't want to fix us."

He looked so pained when he met my eyes. I felt sorry for him, but he deserved it. "Why?"

I shrugged. "I don't know."

He swallowed. "Would you go back to Eric?"

"No." I shook my head. "I don't know what I'd do."

"I wouldn't have a relationship with your brother." He paused. "Paul never meant to hurt you either."

"Don't try to cover for him." I said. "I know him too well."

We were quiet again, and again he broke the silence.

"So we're over? Just like that?" He asked.

I sighed. "Michael, I'm pretty sure you fell in love with the other me, the one that didn't have the scars that I do. The one you think you knew back in college. I know you did, because it changed us when you said it wouldn't. I don't know if you saw him in Paul, or what, but you couldn't let that go when you should've."

"Please believe me when I say that that is a lie. It's been only you. Only you." He touched my arm, gently brushing his fingertips against my elbow.

His touch felt good, but I had to ignore it. "If I never got my memory back, would you have left hockey?"

Mike swallowed. "Why does that matter?"

"Because it would be a huge sacrifice that you'd make for some one you love." I paused. "And you would've left hockey."

He dropped his gaze in admission.

I little piece of me broke. He'd fallen out of love and was just forcing himself to stay with me. All of the little things, the little fights and arguments were frustrations. Paul gave him the chance to be with some one new and more like what Mike had seen when I had amnesia. That voice, that other me, stirred inside at this thought. Mike loved him more. Why hadn't I seen it earlier?

Because I still love Mike more than anything in the world.

I kissed him, brushing my lips to his as lightly as I could. I leaned over to whisper in his ear. "We're breaking up."

"It's my fault." He said, plainly.

"Maybe we shouldn't have gotten back together in the first place." I said with a sigh.

He could only shrug. He blinked, suddenly aware of how close we were to each other. He took a step back and sighed. "Let's go back to the hotel before we get in any more trouble."

The life in his voice was gone. I'd taken it away. But could I really let it go? Could I really let us go?

I thought about what I was going to do as a followed him down the street, back to our hotel.

I can't do this.

2 Weeks Later, Brewer's POV

The first few nights when we got back, he stayed in my bed. He stayed in my bed and I just held him. He didn't say much. Neither of them did. The team was brought down with them, and it was showing on our play. Everyone just got used to the way they would act around each other and the flow they created.

I hate it. I never thought I could hate to see them over, but I hate it.

They didn't talk about it when they got back. By then, everyone knew. Yorkie took off after Mike and I screamed at Paul until I couldn't speak. He tried to escape, but I didn't let him. They got hotel security, Kevin and Craig, and woke up the rest of the team. It wasn't pretty, but I was just so angry that I have most of it blanked out. Probably a good thing I suppose.

Mike and Yorkie want to have some sort of normalcy in place, but it's not working. Mike told me that they couldn't be 'just friends' because they were never really that. Every time they were together, it was a date. Then again, Mike and I were never 'just friends' when we broke up but we're different.

I brought the bags from my car and reached into my pocket to pull out my keys. When I was two steps up to my entrance when I heard Paul Comrie's voice telling me hello.

I turned to glare at him. "What do you want?"

Paul had fallen off the face of the Earth when he managed to get out of Vancouver. Mike hadn't heard from him since then. Now, here he was, standing at the bottom of my stairs with a grin on his face.

"Just came to check up on my brother. He's staying with you, right?" He asked, his grin widening.

"Paul, what the fuck? What were you thinking?" I asked with frustration. "He's your brother for Christ's sake."

Paul shrugged. "I know."

"Don't you want him to be happy? If you cared for York too, you'd want him to be happy." I started.

The next thing he said left an eerie feeling in my stomach.

He smiled, shrugging. "Eric, do you really think I went from hating York to loving him over the course of a month? Think about it. I never really cared about him, and he was stupid enough to believe it. I can see why Mike liked him so much, though. He gives great head."

I just stared at him, trying to collect my thoughts.

His smile widened. "Thanks Eric. I came by to tell you thanks."

"For what?" I asked, afraid of the answer.

"My goal was to break them up." He grinned. "It may have put me out of favor with Mike for a while, but he'll get over it. It's better for him, anyhow. He was too good for York from the start. I couldn't have done it without you, Eric, so thanks. I'm glad you have him again. Much, much better arrangement."

He was choking me with words. "You're an awful person. You're an awful brother. Why would you do this to some one you're supposed to love and want to see happy?"

He shrugged, still grinning. "The way I figure it is, I never got to live the life I wanted, so he should be miserable with me. There, simply vicious jealousy and resentful feelings. Don't you think you could've answered that yourself?"

Paul smiled widely when I couldn't reply to that. It couldn't be that simple.

He pocketed his hands and moved to turn away. "I'll see you later, Eric. Thanks again."

He walked away with a proud jaunt that shouldn't have been there. He did it. He did it all just to destroy his brother's life. All for fun, apparently.

I shifted my bags and put the key in the door and walked inside.

Mike helped me put stuff away, quietly reorganizing my home with each shelving.

"Is something wrong?" He asked, after I had stared at a jar of mustard for two minutes. "You look freaked out."

"No." I shook my head, and quickly changed the subject. "Did you talk to Mike today?"

He nodded, taking the mustard from my hands. "We're trying to figure something out."

I couldn't tell him. I couldn't do it.

Maybe I can undo everything that Paul did, and put them back together. Mike will smile at me again and actually look happy. I'll see him in love. This isn't the end.

Or should I just let life take hold?

I wish I had Paul's attitude. Why should he have love if I have none? I can't.

Because I love him and I know York does too.

I'm not going to let it be over.

~Fin