cw // light discussion of abortion
“are you going to keep it?”
“i don’t know.” mack’s voice breaks around the words. “it could ruin our lives right now. i don’t know, smitty. i just thought you should know.”
a heavy silence settles between them, only mack’s uneven breathing coming through the phone.
he’s sitting on the edge of his childhood bed in lexington, one foot planted against the carpet, the other bouncing uncontrollably. there are trophies lined up on the shelf across from him. old team pictures. his bc jersey hanging over the back of his desk chair because his mom refuses to let him leave clothes on the floor anymore.
everything around him feels painfully ordinary.
mack is three thousand miles away in vancouver, alone in his parents’ house, pregnant.
“how long have you known?” will asks.
“don’t say it like that.”
“like you’re talking to somebody who’s about to jump off a fucking bridge.”
will stands, immediately sitting back down when his knees threaten to give out. “i’m trying not to freak out.”
“you think i’m not freaking out?”
“no, you just went completely silent after asking if i was going to get rid of it.”
“that’s not what i asked.”
“no.” will presses the heel of his hand against his forehead. “no, mack. it isn’t.”
mack sniffles quietly, and will’s chest caves in.
he pictures mack in his bedroom, curled up beneath the window with his knees pulled to his chest. he wonders if mack is wearing one of will’s shirts. he wonders if he’s been crying. he wonders who else knows.
“are you alone?” will asks.
“where are your parents?”
“out with charlie and rj. aiden’s training.”
will exhales slowly. “okay.”
“i don’t know what else to say.”
they both are, will supposes, despite everything they’ve done over the last two years. despite playing in the nhl. despite living on their own and making more money than either of them knows what to do with. despite the fact that the entire hockey world treats them like grown men and dissects every choice they make as if they should already have all the answers.
will feels like he’s seventeen again.
terrified of disappointing everyone.
“mack,” he says carefully, “do you want me to come there?”
mack makes a strangled noise that might have been a laugh in any other circumstance.
will grips the phone tighter. “i’ll get on a flight tonight.”
“you don’t have to do that.”
“no, you don’t.” mack’s voice rises. “that’s the problem, will. you don’t have to do anything. i’m the one who has to decide. i’m the one who’s knocked up. i’m the one whose season could be fucked before it even starts.”
“you’re right.” will forces the words out before his fear can turn them defensive. “i don’t know what that feels like. but i know you shouldn’t have to sit there by yourself while you figure it out.”
will listens to him breathe.
“i’m scared,” mack whispers.
the words slip out too fast, too honest.
mack stops breathing for a second.
will stares at the picture on his nightstand, one of him and mack after a summer skate in massachusetts, both sunburned and sweaty, mack glaring at the camera while will grins with an arm around his shoulders.
“i love you,” will says again, quieter. “and i’m scared too. i’m scared you’ll think this is your problem to solve alone. i’m scared you’ll make a decision because you think it’s what i want. i’m scared you’ll hate me no matter what happens.”
“i could never hate you.”
“you hate me all the time.”
mack lets out a shaky breath.
“what do you want?” he asks.
will’s heart pounds so hard it hurts.
he could lie. he could tell mack that it doesn’t matter, that he’ll be fine with whatever mack chooses. it would be the right thing to say, maybe. the safe thing.
but mack has always known when will is lying.
“i think…” will looks down at his hands. “i think if you kept it, i would love it.”
mack makes a small, wounded sound.
“i think i’d be terrified,” will continues. “i think our parents would lose their minds. i think the sharks would have questions and the team would have questions and people would say horrible things about you. about us.”
“i think it would change everything. but i don’t think it would ruin my life.” our life, he wants to say.
mack is crying harder now. will can hear him trying to hide it, breath catching behind his fist.
“it might ruin mine,” mack says.
the truth lands between them, brutal and necessary.
“i’m supposed to be better this year. i’m supposed to lead. i’m supposed to—” mack’s voice crumples. “i can’t even think straight.”
“you don’t have to decide tonight.”
“what if i already waited too long?”
“what if something happens?”
“what if i make the wrong choice?”
“no.” will’s voice comes out firmer. “there’s the choice you can live with. that’s it.”
will stands again, this time forcing his legs to hold him. he reaches for the suitcase shoved inside his closet.
“what are you doing?” mack asks.
“i’m coming to vancouver.”
“my parents will know something’s wrong.”
“then we’ll tell them something’s wrong.”
“we don’t have to tell them what.”
mack breathes into the phone.
will pulls a hoodie from the shelf and throws it onto the bed.
“mack, i would crawl there.”
that earns him another broken little laugh.
“i’ll book the flight,” he says. “stay on the phone with me.”
this time, when silence settles over them, it feels different.
will puts the call on speaker and starts packing with one hand, keeping the phone close enough that he can hear every breath mack takes.
three thousand miles away, mack does the same.
