#8872

The cap is raised 2.4 million dollars for the 2015-2016 season. There are lots of factors working in his favor, Patrick knows - and none of them are enough. Patrick doesn’t know where he’d cast his vote if he had one, but even he knows that the organization is paralyzed, and they decide to rip the bandaid off - one 10.5 million dollar band aid. It’s a short term hit that gives the organization the room to build itself back up again - they can’t keep putting duct tape on it forever, so they say.

When they ask him to waive his NMC he almost says no. But apparently Patrick’s not that selfish.

We’ll make whatever deal we settle on conditional on an late summer announcement.

They’re making sure his victory laps aren’t tainted; they don’t want to spoil Chicago’s party either. He tells Jonny right after, though - he only cries a little. Jonny’s also the first one he tells when the call finally comes.

“It’s Dallas,” he says, laying on his childhood bed in Buffalo. “I’m going to Dallas.”

It’s not the worst situation he could be in. Dallas has weaknesses, but it’s not like he was sent to Vancouver or something. Plus, Sharpy’s coming with him.

The Stars are steadily on the rise, and then they give Patrick two things on the first day of training camp that will make all the difference in Patrick’s first year in Texas.

First they give him an alternate captaincy - a real and permanent one. There’s nothing honorary or contingent about it. We want you to really take on a leadership role here. You’ve got experience on multiple cup winning teams, and we think you’re ready to step up here.

“I thought they’d give it to you,” Patrick tells Sharpy later.

“This isn’t Chicago, Pat. You’re nobody’s little brother anymore,” Sharpy says, and then ruffled his hair. “Ok, you’re still mine, but you know what I mean.”

The realization is strangely liberating. He’ll miss Jonny fiercely - and he does - and losing that security is kind of terrifying. Yet, the fact is that, up until that moment, Patrick’s entire career has existed in the context of Kane and Toews.

So, Patrick’s new A feels different than any other he’s worn before. The crisp white on bright green feels heavier, but grounding in a way that Patrick’s never experienced before.

The second thing that Dallas gives him blows the first out of the water, though. The Stars sign a young KHL star and effectively bestow upon Patrick Artemi Panarin.

They set the 2015-2016 season on fire. Patrick’s breaking personal records, skating harder, and having even more fun playing that he thought was possible. Every time that Panarin’s body slams into Patrick’s in celebration he’s afraid that he’s going to burst, too full of simple hockey joy.

Patrick’s always had trouble finding a linemate who could keep up with him - turns out the right guy was hiding in St. Petersberg and doesn’t speak more than a lick of English. Patrick couldn’t care less, though, because their understanding of each other goes far beyond words. On the ice it’s like a sixth sense - and off the ice it isn’t much different.

Sharpy’s got a new baby so Patrick limits himself to one dinner a week with him and Abby as not to get in the way. There also aren’t any Russian players on the Stars besides Artemi - Patrick knows how they tend to stick together - plus the kid seems kind of shy, at least out of his element as he is not speaking the local language. So Patrick’s first step in taking his A seriously is to make sure that his new liney is looked out for. It doesn’t take long until Artemi is sticking to Patrick like a bur, and they’re getting along so famously through their language barrier that Tyler starts claiming they can read minds.

“Ok, what am I thinking right now?” he asks Patrick one day after a game against the Oilers.

“That your faceoffs sucked today and how embarassing that is considering McDavid wasn’t even in the lineup,” Patrick deadpans as he pulls his pads off.

Artemi shakes with a brief burst of laughter and Tyler seems to care much more about that than the insult to his person.

“The fuck! Last week I asked you if you were hungry and you looked at me like I had two heads!”

That just makes Artemi’s brow furrow a little and he looks to Patrick, tilting his head to the side in question. Patrick just smiles and shakes his head once, which smooths out the expression on Artemi’s face.

“Dinner?” he asks, absently bumping his fist against his stomach.

Artemi nods enthusiastically and Tyler just sputters indignantly.

The Russian’s English improves quickly though, helped along by the amount of time he spends at Patrick’s. It’s easy to hang out since they live in the same building. It also doesn’t hurt that Patrick’s pointedly turning over a new leaf in Dallas and not putting himself in any situations that might end in trouble, and Artemi doesn’t party, or even drink, during the season either, so they end up very much homebody-buddies. At the beginning they get along with No-English-Required activities like Mario Cart or watching tape, but slowly they move on to movies and dumb TV.

“English homework,” Artemi once mumbles in his defense when Patrick tries to turn the channel away from a zany cooking competition show.

Patrick highly doubts that Iberico Ham is going to be on Artemi’s vocab test, but he’s not going to argue. He’s honestly just too charmed by the kid. Artemi’s too much a sweetheart to exploit Patrick, but he wonders what Artemi could get away with if he tried.

Luckily, Artemi seems content with the window-side corner of Patrick’s couch and a ride to practice in the mornings.

That first year they make it to round two of the playoffs before going out against the Sharks in game seven. It sucks in the moment, but then they’re planning for next year, and there’s a surprisingly familiar feeling in Patrick’s chest. It’s… exciting being a part of something new again. The team is hungry. Jamie wants it desperately.  Artemi and the city want it. Patrick wants to give it to them. He wants it for himself.

There’s no shame in the locker room on clean out day. It’s not a bunch of false platitudes when they say that they’re close, that they know where thier holes are and that they’ve got something here that will be great with just a few adjustments.  

“When we get it, Temi, I’m gonna hand it to you,” Patrick says when the reporters finally clear out. “Gonna put it in your hands.”

Artemi presses his shoulder into Patrick’s, looking down at his toes before glancing up at Patrick out of the corner of his eyes. He smiles mischievously.

“Maybe - I put in yours.”

Patrick barks out a laugh, and for the first time in years, he feels like he’s truly only looking forward, his past like balloons instead weights trailing behind him.

“It’s a deal.”