by me
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: The-Couple-Who-Won't-Fucking-Stay-Broken-Up
Disclaimer: So very fake. It didn't happen and it won't.
Please suspend reality: Actually, please refrain from the doing the math
regarding the end of the Braves game, the end of the Mets game and the
flight time between the two (Chicago to Montreal, I do believe). Glav
wasn't pitching, personal day or something.
Author's Notes: I wrote this in a whole hour. Tonight. After the horrific
excuse for a game that I listened to until we were up 4-1, went to hockey
practice, and returned to a 5-4 loss. And yes, I lied in my LJ, clearly I
haven't gone to bed and I wrote this instead. Not that I have Russian at
8am tomorrow or anything.
Everyone was gone. The reporters were done asking their questions. He had
given the "these things happen, I have two more starts" response time and
time again. He had listened to his teammates say the same things. He had
noticed the regretful looks from his catcher, his second baseman, his left
fielder. He had blown off the stuttered apology offered by young Will
Cunnane. And now everyone was gone and he was left sitting in front of
his locker in street clothes, elbows resting on his knees, leaning
forward. His glove rested on the bench beside him. His head was turned,
staring at the leather as if it was something offensive rather than the
glove he�d been using for years, comfortable and broken in. As a result,
he missed that he was no longer alone in the room.
"Fuck, Doggie."
His head jerked up as he leaned back. "Don�t you dare apologize to me, Kent
Mercker," he snapped at the reliever. "I don�t want to hear it."
Mercker had known Greg Maddux a long time, and the man did not scare
him. "I�m really fucking sorry. I just...shit, Maddy. I�m not sure I�ve
ever wanted to save a game more and I...fucked up."
"Happens to the best of us," Greg said dully, staring ahead of him.
"But it shouldn�t have, not this time, not when it matters this much."
"Does it really?" Maddux looked at his old friend. "This record, it doesn�t
really matter. 15 wins is just a mark someone decided on. Cy Young won
twice that many some years. It isn�t even comparable."
"In this day in age, it�s comparable."
Greg didn�t answer, and his gaze dropped to the floor. "It doesn�t matter,
Merck. Really, it doesn�t."
Kent tilted his head, studying the starter. "What�s really bothering you?"
"Nothing."
"Liar," Kent said mildly.
Maddux hesitated. It wasn�t something he really talked about, or even thought
about anymore. But some times...some times were worse than others. "I
just...after games like this�I really miss him," Greg finished quietly.
"I take it you don�t mean Smoltzy."
"Him too, but...no."
Mercker sighed and put an arm around his friend�s shoulders. "So call him."
"I can�t, Merck. We don�t talk, we�re not...we don�t do anything."
"You guys are really fucking stupid, you know that?"
"It�s the best way."
"Clearly, which is why you�re in such a cheerful mood."
"Fuck off." There was barely any emotion in the phrase.
"Look-"
"Just stop, Merck. Ok? This has been the most frustrating season of my
career. When I'm feeling good again I have another ridiculously bad
start. I've managed to scrape together 14 wins, half of which I was lucky
to get, and having 15 might actually mean something, but it looks like the
karma ain't flowing right for that to happen, ever, and worst of all he's
not here. So I don't want to hear it."
The words really sort of scared Mercker, because despite his humble, laid-back
attitude, he knew Greg was fiercely competitive. And he knew it hadn't
been an easy season, but there was no fire in the words he spoke, and
certainly none in his eyes. "Ok," he said quietly. "Good night."
Standing, he headed for the locker room door and Maddux did nothing to
stop him. He stepped into the tunnel, turning right towards the exit to
the street, watching the floor. He still felt guilty, blowing the lead
for the man. Will Cunnane had started the mess but the killing blow had
been dealt against him, and Mercker hadn't felt quite that bad in a while,
as he did watching the run that would cost Greg Maddux the decision cross
the plate.
He was busy enough staring at the floor that he didn't notice another person
walking towards him until the person said, "Kent?" and his head snapped up
and his jaw dropped.
"Tommy?"
"Yeah, uh, there's no chance that �"
"Yeah, he's still fucking in there. Good luck." Still surprised, but
unwilling to press, the veteran let Glavine pass and headed for the hotel.
Maddux sensed a person enter the room. "Merck, I swear to god," he muttered,
words muffled by his hands.
Glavine didn't know what to say, how to proceed, so he just sat down next to
him. Sighing, Maddux raised his head, and the shock was evident on his
face. "Tommy," he said weakly. "What the fuck are you doing here?"
"I...I don't know, to be honest. I just...needed to see you I guess."
"You didn't speak to me when you were in Atlanta."
"Neither did you, when you were in New York."
"So why now?"
"I don't..." Maddux finally met his eyes. "Christ, Greg. You look like
shit."
"Tough game," Maddux muttered. After a moment, he amended it to, "tough
season."
"It has been," Glavine said quietly.
"I don't need this, you know," Greg said, even as his body betrayed him,
leaning closer to Glavine so their shoulders pressed together. "This is
the last thing I fucking need."
"I know," Tom said softly. "I told myself that the whole flight."
"Fuck, Tommy," Greg breathed helplessly, knowing it was inevitable, knowing
that he needed the lefty, wanted him, wanted to feel him. And couldn't
just stop loving him.
And Glavine turned and kissed him and Maddux kissed back because what else
could he do? He kissed back and let things go much further than kissing
and then he followed Glavine back to his hotel because no one would care
that Greg Maddux missed room check tonight. And he listened to Glavine
tell him that he missed him, more than he missed winning, more than he
missed run support, more than he missed solid defense.
Maddux couldn't help but smile, couldn't help but say he loved him because it
was true and it always would be.
He slept soundly, and they had sex again before Glavine had to leave for his
flight and as Maddux watched him smile as he walked out the door, he
realized that Tom Glavine hadn't mentioned 15 wins once.
He felt a grin as he sat down on the bed to pull on his shoes, and his heart
felt lighter. And maybe he'd make it through this season after all.
Fin.