#shrockey

Little lengthy part abt how Macklin and Y/N met plus what happened to Macklin after the Olympics

Macklin has always known one thing, he was born for hockey.  From the moment he came out of the womb, till maybe the day he meets his doom, hockey was his everything.

Of course, there were plenty of other things he adored. His family,  the San Jose Sharks, and on good days, his fans. But Hockey? It built his entire life!  His family would joke about how he didn’t know what to do with himself until he came in contact with a hockey stick, and fans would pick at how out of place he looked without hockey gear. 

Hell, even he felt weird whenever he spent a day without doing anything related to hockey.

It was his passion, obsession some might say.

Actually? everyone he knew personally could say that.

But it wasn’t the reason he kept going. His lifelong dream of playing in the NHL was never the reason he kept his head up every day, nor was it ever the reason he always stood back up after a fall.

That was all one person doing, you.

Sidney Crosby may be Macklin’s childhood idol, the guy he’d put posters up all over his wall.  But you, Y/N Crosby, were the girl he’d take polaroid pictures of, the girl that relatives would bring up whenever they talked to and teased Macklin about growing up and finding the oh-so perfect person for him.

And they were never too far off with those predictions, which seemed embarrassingly funny at the time, are now lingering towards the truth. 

Cause to him you weren’t just a girl he met during a hockey game he went to when he was young. The thought of you smiling at him with eyes filled with pride was what pushed Macklin to wake up and try his best everyday, and was what fired him up to get better and better.

He could vividly remember the exact moment he met you, waiting in line for hot dogs during a heated game between the Penguins and the Canucks.   The staff specifically instructed you to stay put with the wags, insisting you refrain from leaving them so Sidney doesn’t panic at the sight of you gone, but you wandered off the second Geno’s wife left for the bathroom during intermission.

Who could’ve blamed you? You were thirteen and eating a hot chili dog while watching your dad, who’s basically the best hockey player in the world, play hockey, which was way more fun than listening to WAGs chat about topics you shouldn’t be listening to.

Macklin and his family were at the game that day, the Canucks being his hometown team he just had to be there.  Every hockey game he went to when he was younger was special in his eyes, but this game was the first he actually deemed as amazing.

But hockey games were loud, rough, and energy-draining. He was getting hungry, as any other kid would.

He was standing on his tiptoes by the hotdog cart, in an attempt to get the guy who worked there to notice him and hand over the menu. But he was too short at the time, even while standing on the tip of his toes he couldn’t even notice the hot dog cart was empty.

And that was the exact moment he met you.

“Are you a ballerina?” A high-pitched voice judged him, you appeared from behind the hot dog cart like a ghost. You were hiding there so no one could drag you back with the WAGs, and Macklin had caught your eye.

“Huh?” Macklin blinked cluelessly, you looked at him with pure judgment in your eyes that day. So different from the present,  now all people see in your eyes whenever you look at him was a whirlpool of love and affection.

“You’re in your tippy toes like you’re doing a pointe, do you wanna be a ballerina when you grow up?”  You continued your harsh observations, and Macklin was as dumbfounded as he was intimidated by you.

“No, I wanna be in the NHL.” He huffed.

“Mhm? As a Zamboni driver?” 

“You're really mean.” 

“No, I’m honest. Or at least that’s what dad says, I’m too honest.” You shrugged, taking in Macklin’s expression. He was judging you as much as you were judging him.

Macklin huffed in annoyance once more, rolling his eyes as if he was too irritated to even continue the conversation, he just wanted a hot dog! 

“Where is your dad?” He asked, his tone almost bratty.

“On the ice.” You hummed, fighting back a smile.

This was gonna be so funny.

“Is he a Zamboni driver?” He raised an eyebrow.

You opened your mouth to reply, but an irritated staff member rushed up to you as if you were a lost cat they had finally found on the street.

“y/n! y/n!” The staff member exclaimed, catching their breath as they crouched  “Are you crazy kid? What if someone took you? Sidney can’t focus on the game knowing his kid is gone!”

Macklin’s jaw dropped so quickly his jawbone made a sound, all that rang through his brain right now was “holy shit I was arguing with Sidney Crosby’s kid!”

And you, being the insufferable kid you were, smiled at him sweetly and waved goodbye as the staff member scooped you up and carried you back to the WAGs.

After that, you and Macklin continued to bump into each other. First at a rink in Vancouver, where you almost sliced him with your skate blade while doing a spin. Then at English Bay Beach where you guys finally became friends, and since then you’ve been his number one fan and he was yours.

When you won the ISU Junior Grand Prix of Figure Skating, at only 15 years old. Macklin screamed, jumping up and down in his living room like his biggest dream had come true. 

 And a few years later, when he made it to the NHL? You started crying so hard that Sidney and the rest of the Pittsburgh Penguins jokingly started calling you a traitor for getting this excited over a player on another team.

You guys would be on the phone together for hours on end.  laughing over stupid shit only clueless teenagers would find funny or tearing up during deep conversations, praying no one heard you guys.

Sidney would hear you sometimes, but he’d never interrupt. Why would he?  Seeing his little girl, whom he always prayed would find someone who could love her as much as he did, smile and blush while talking to a boy?  He let it happen, putting his fatherly protectiveness to the side for once. 

One summer night when you and Macklin were 17, he made a significant joke.  You were FaceTiming, and have been for two hours! It was three am, and Macklin was picking on you for a cocky joke you made.

“I’ll only let you be this cocky after you win the Olympics.” He said that night, voice drowned in sleep yet the teasing was prominent.

Olympics? You thought it was impossible at the time, but he always saw so much in you.

“Me? At the Olympics? Hilarious Mack, you’ll be standing right next to me if so.” You scoffed softly, as tired as he was that night. 

Macklin giggled drowsily at that, you couldn’t tell if he was joking or saying this cause of the sleep deprivation.

“I’ll be the only one cheering for you when you get silver, other than your dad of course.” He added.

“Aw, okay, and I’ll sob happy tears when you win gold.” You rolled your eyes, even if Macklin annoyed you, you truly believed he’d make it that far.

Macklin immediately shut up, his hazel eyes softening like something had just kissed him goodnight and tucked him into bed.

“Well, now I feel bad for saying that, we’re supposed to be making fun of each other!” He groaned into his pillow, trying to hide the fact that hearing you truly believed he could win gold melted his heart into mush.

“Well save that teasing for when I win silver and you win Olympic Gold.” You huffed, this joke seemed hilarious at the time.

“Really?” He hummed, for a second he sounded sincere.

“Yes Macklin, I really believe you’ll win gold.” 

“Are you sure it won’t be the opposite?”

“No, I believe in you.” 

And it really turned out to be the opposite. 

Macklin walked into his Olympic dorm room silently, his heavy heart in one hand and a silver medal in the other.

The USA won

The gold slipped away from their hands, from his hands. 

When everyone believed in them, they believed in him. When you believed in him, he lost.

He lost.

It all replayed in his head as he slumped down on the floor, in front of his open suitcase that was half-packed. The Canadian flags waving everywhere in the air, red and white blurred everywhere as he skated as fast as he could, how he tried to stay determined despite the pressure that piled on his soul, and him trying not to laugh when Jack Hughes’s teeth got knocked out.

But sooner or later that laughter turned into heavy sobs.

Macklin had already cried in his parents’ arms, cried on the bench, hell he even cried in Brad Marchad’s arms! 

In the hour that came after Canada lost to the USA, everyone checked up on him.

Macklin had already cried in his parents’ arms, cried on the bench, hell he even cried in Brad Machard’s arms! He didn’t push away anyone that came and comforted him, he just accepted the words of comfort with a nod or a brief teary smile.

He was too busy pushing away one simple thing to focus on anything else. 

You.

The thought of you, anything to do with you. He just couldn’t face any of it, you have believed in him since the start then he went and lost! He lost the one thing he was determined to win for you, he went through all of this practicing and pressure everyday for you.

Cause you believed in him, you believed he could go and win gold for Canada.  

And he lost! 

Macklin let out a grunt mixed with a sob as the thoughts consumed him, he punched at one of his folded clothes in his suitcase before tears fully started to roll down his blotchy cheeks.

He was hunched over his open suitcase, letting it all out like a baby. Right now he felt like one, he felt like the same kid he was nine years ago that cried in his moms arms. The kid who would swear he’d never cry over something stupid, or a girl.

Well now he was crying over a girl.

A girl that he loved.

A girl he loved so deeply he could survive losing her, but never call it living.  You never once made Macklin cry, but here he was, sobbing like you meant the world to him.

And you did.

But he never realized it until now.

 he never realized how much his heart ached whenever your conversations would come to an end, he never realized how he would wish you were closer to him despite standing right in front of him, he never realized how his heart would flutter hearing you talk about figure skating and the other things you loved…

He never realized how much he loved you.

He loves you.

And he is only facing that now, sitting on the floor as he packed up to leave what feels like the worst sports event he ever participated in.

Macklin sniffed as his tears dried up, his face went blank as he closed his eyes. As if he was coming to terms with the emotions he’s been pushing away for so long, he wished he could push them away longer.

He can’t face you now. 

The thought of talking to you made him sick, and he’s sure he’s making you feel sick as well. But it feels like he’d rather do anything but talk to you, it’s not like he’s scared or anything…

Was he? ═════════════════════════════════════════════ Present timing, texts between Y/N and Macklin.

The San Jose Sharks Groupchat

texts between Y/N and Macklin.

You stared at your phone in dead silence, heart thumping against your aching chest as your eyes got glossy with tears. The entire week has felt like a fever dream so far, but this seemed like the cherry on top. 

Macklin blocked you.

Not only that but he also harshly threw away your friendship like it was nothing.

“People grow up.” you echoed his words, repeating the argument in your head over and over again. 

People grow up

It made no sense, and that’s what angered you.  

People do grow up, you and Macklin had grown up together and everyone knew that. Going from skating in local ice rinks to skating in front of thousands, there was never a moment where you didn’t consider Macklin as your childhood best friend. 

That can't change in a week, Fourteen years of looking out for each other doesn't just disappear in one week.

Even now, as you sit in your bed breathing heavily while hot tears stream down your face, you still consider Macklin your bestest of friends. 

Does all that time you spent together not mean anything to him? All that thought and care you wasted, cause apparently no one had ever told you to care!

No one ever told you to care.

Macklin has never said anything like that to you.

You flung your phone across the room in the heat of the moment, letting out a choked sob as it hit the floor. 

“What does that even mean!?” You exclaimed through the tears, before continuing to break down into a sobbing mess.

(ten mins later lol)

You had cried so much that you felt like a Honeysuckle flower deprived of its honey, leaving you lying in your bed numb and drained.

It was one a.m,  your dad hasn’t come home from wherever he was, and despite how exhausted you were you felt too nauseous to fall asleep.

You felt sick, like someone had torn your stomach apart and stitched it back together. 

Which confirmed that if you ate anything right now, it’d come right back up in minutes. But you had to at least drink water, forcing you to leave the little bubble of sorrow called your room. 

You dragged your feet across the floor, shoulders slumped as you rubbed your tired bloodshot eyes. The house was quiet whenever your dad wasn’t home. Usually, you didn’t mind but right now it made you feel worse than you already did.

And that silence left you alone with your thoughts. As you walked downstairs and made it to the kitchen, your mind already started recollecting everything that had happened since Macklin started ignoring you.

Canada lost the Olympics, and it seems Macklin has also lost his mind.

And by the time you were pouring yourself a glass of water, you were coming to terms with what seemed to be the truth.

There’s nothing between you and Macklin anymore, and maybe there never was anything between you guys in his eyes. 

Every sip of water felt painful, like you were trying to swallow down your thoughts and emotions.

 And maybe the fact that the past decade of your life has been wasted.

Maybe it’s for the better, as you sit in the kitchen drowning yourself in your thoughts you wonder what would’ve happened if you continued to cling onto Macklin.

It would’ve hurt even more than it does now, which seems impossible since the ache in your chest is agonising. 

Let go of it, Y/n.  You think to yourself, Let go of him. 

That was impossible. 

You were kicked out of your thoughts by the sound of the front door unlocking, two familiar voices muffled in the background.

“She’s probably sleeping, Sid. Teenagers sleep too much.” 

“She’s awake, G. I’m sure she is, she still doesn’t sleep without saying goodnight. She didn’t reply to my messages, and the calls-”

Your dad was home and it seems he brought Geno as well.  Of course he did, it’s impossible to separate Sid and Geno, the dynamic duo.

And of course, your dad was worried. 

This time it was valid, you might have wrecked your phone after basically flinging it across your bedroom. After that, he probably called you, and seeing that you weren’t answering anything must’ve rung alarms in his head.

You sighed as the front door opened, silently slandering yourself for not washing off all the proof that you had a teary meltdown.

“I’m awake!” you called out, turning in your seat to face your dad and uncle as they walked into the kitchen.

“Awake this time? Sid, you raise your daughter wro-” Geno rambled before cutting himself off.

Sidney and Geno visibly paused as their eyes landed on you, a wrecked nineteen-year-old was probably the last thing they expected to see right now.

There was a long and uncomfortable silence, it wasn’t that long but it felt maddening. 

You sighed once more, closing your eyes as the silence continued.  Growing up you always went straight to Sidney after crying, what little girl didn’t find comfort in her dad whenever she was sad? 

Well this past week you haven’t told him anything, but he has noticed something was bothering you. Of course he did, he always notices.

And he made assumptions, wanting to figure out what’s wrong while trying not to invade your privacy since you were basically an adult now. 

But right now, seeing you sit tiredly with bloodshot eyes and tear-stained cheeks, every fatherly instinct kicked him into seriously needing to find out.

You opened your eyes, watching Geno slowly back up into the living room after sensing that this was a conversation between a father and his daughter.

And Sidney looked both confused and devastated to see you like this as if every time someone breaks his daughter's heart, his heart breaks even more.

As much as you try to hate Macklin right now, you don’t wanna ruin the bond he has established with your dad.

You can't tell him.

“Hi, Dad,” you speak up, your voice raspy and filled with exhaustion. 

“Oh bug…” Sidney exhaled, his voice heavy with concern as he sat on the kitchen stool next to you and immediately pulled you into a tight embrace. 

Bug, a nickname he made up for you when you were four. It was a little pick at how you always used to cling onto people, just like a bug.

Your throat tightened all over again as you melted into the hug, the feeling of finally experiencing some comfort was making you wanna burst into tears all over again. 

Sidney knew he was going to face a lot after becoming a single father, and he swore he was ready for it too.

But he was never ready to see you sad.

“You weren’t answering my calls cause you were crying?” he asked straightforwardly, you nodded as a few tears stained his shirt.

You never understood how your dad guessed things perfectly, maybe it came with his superstitious tendencies.

“I broke my phone.” you admitted, sniffing pathetically as you pulled away from the hug.

You watched him react to that carefully. he wasn’t mad at you; instead, he looked even more concerned. 

“What happened, Y/n?” he finally asked, slowly and softly as he held you by the shoulders.

“I can’t tell you.” you shot back immediately.

“Y/N Crosby.” he pushed further, voice firm yet gentle.

“I specifically cannot tell you, Dad.”  you insisted.

Sidney sighed as he picked up how determined you sounded, you weren’t going to tell no matter what and he knew that.

“Please sweetheart, tell me.  I think I grew a lot more white hairs since the second I walked in, and it’s only been five minutes.”  he continued.

“All your hair was already white to begin with.” you replied bluntly, all confidence in your tone disappearing when he raised his brows.

“Pardon?” he hummed

“Never mind….sorry….” you blurted out quickly, clearing your throat.

You both laughed a little at that, before almost immediately returning to the intense silence as Sidney really noticed how tired you were.

You should’ve really washed your face, your dad can be a detective when he wants to be and right now he’s already trying to connect the dots.

Sidney placed his hand on your shoulder again, this time more firmly, as if he’s came to a conclusion. 

“You don’t have to tell me, but I can’t promise that I won’t try and find out. Nothing scares me more than seeing my daughter upset, I’m sure you know that by now bug..”  Sidney spoke softly, if this was any other situation you’d be annoyed at having to listen to a dad speech.

“Really? Nothing scares you more?” you hummed, watching a small smile appear in his face as he sensed you were already coming up with a joke.

“Nothing could scare me more, i’m sure.” he repeated himself, already braced for the stupid joke.

“Not even a concussion?”

“Go wash your face, y/n.” 

“Yes, Dad.” 

You muffled a laugh as you stood up and walked over to the kitchen sink, the joke was hilarious to you. Sidney didn’t find it funny, but seeing his daughter finally smile after finding her upset was enough to make him smile.

Finally after what seemed like forever, the ache in your chest faded away and your heartbeat started to slow down. 

Macklin is gone for good, your dad doesn’t know, everything is fine.

And as if he sensed the tension slipping away, Geno marched right back into the kitchen like comedic relief. 

“So, why is she sad? Who made her cry? I fight someone tonight or no?” he motioned a few punches, you were unsure if he was joking or not.

You laughed at that, finally letting out joyful sound after a whole hour of sobbing and grief. 

“It’s fine, it wasn’t anyone important.” 

No one important, I guess people do grow up. 

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