Their New Beginning (Oh Captain, My Captain 5)

My mind is on Avery, not this game. I can barely focus on skating, much less playing. Somehow, I make it through the second period, but if someone asked, I couldn’t tell them the score or anything else that happened. In the third period, I’m counting down the minutes in my head. As some guy, I don’t know who, runs into me, his entire body seems to connect with my shoulder as we hit the boards.

My jaw locks from the pain as I drop my stick, holding my arm against my body. Shit. The ref skates over as play stops and ushers me to the bench. Based on how it feels, I’m pretty sure I dislocated my shoulder. I should have been paying attention, but there’s nothing I can do about it now.

I walk down the tunnel to be checked out. My first thought is that I need to call Avery, let her know it’s probably nothing serious, but then I remember she asked for a divorce and probably wasn’t even watching. For a moment, as they start to get me out of my gear, I debate what I want to say, but decide to say it anyway.

“Hey, could someone call my wife for me?”

The guy looks up at me, almost surprised. “Sure. It looks like a simple dislocation, Jax, but the doctor will be in here in a second to officially look you over.”

“Good.”

“Is there a message you want me to tell your wife?”

“Just tell her what happened and ask her if she would please make sure she’s home when I get there. Thanks. I really appreciate it.”

He smiles at me and leaves as the doctor comes in. I’m not thinking about how this is a bad time to get an injury. I’m not thinking about how my contract ends this season and I’ve just gotten hurt. I’m not thinking about anything except that hopefully, she’s waiting for me at our home.

~ ~ ~

“Jax? Are you okay?”

I lift my head where I was leaning back against the wall. Avery is crouching in front of me, looking extremely concerned. Her brows are pulled together, she’s frowning, and she looks upset. I nod, feeling like if I open my mouth my organs might fall out.

“Are you sure?”

My head starts to nod like a bobblehead, and I laugh at the thought.

“What are you laughing at?” Avery asks.

“Who knows what his loopy mind is thinking,” Regina speaks, scaring the shit out of me. I didn’t notice her. “Let’s get him to the car.”

A trainer suddenly appears out of thin air. Are people just appearing now? When did that become possible? Can I appear in my car? I groan as someone bumps my elbow.

“Sorry,” Avery squeaks. “Sorry, Jax,” she repeats. “Are you sure he’s okay?”

People are talking, but their words are running into one another and I’m not sure what’s happening anymore. I suddenly find myself in the passenger seat of my Mustang. Avery does magic and is sitting in the driver’s seat. I want to ask her why she’s driving my car and tell her to be careful, but I don’t want to open my mouth.

I sink into the seat, turning my head, so I can watch her drive. I need to be sure she’s doing it right. Avery glances at me every five seconds, looking worried. That’s not how you drive. Eyes on the road, Avery. Eyes. On. The. Road. She obviously doesn’t have the superpower to read my mind because she doesn’t listen to me.

“Stay here,” she tells me.

Like I’m going to jump out of the car while it’s moving. Avery gets out of the car and for a moment, I’m worried about crashing until I realize we’ve stopped. She runs to a house, disappearing inside. My eyes drift close when she does her magic trick and is next to me again.

“Let’s get you inside.”

Next thing I know, I’m inside my house. A bed seems to be underneath me and it’s so comfortable.

“Do you need anything, Jax? Are you comfortable? Are you too hot or too cold?” More questions spout from Avery’s mouth, but I close my eyes. I can’t hear her if I can’t see her. It’s sleepy time now, anyway.

~ ~ ~

I groggily groan as I wake up.

“Jax? Are you okay?”

At the sound of Avery’s voice, I turn my head to see her sitting up in our bed next to me. She’s leaning against the headboard with a book in her hands. I go to lift my finger, but it’s the wrong arm to use.

“Shit.” Definitely the wrong arm. It wakes me up though.