Sticks and Skates [Wayhaught]

Five Hundred Seventy-Six

Waverly cheered from her seat in between the benches, watching the Devils fighting hard in their game against Brandon. MacKinnon dug around for the puck that was being pinned up against the wall, pulling it out of the scrum and flipping it up out of the zone. Jamie was able to touch it to save the icing call, but wound up being called for offsides instead.

The ensuing faceoff came in the neutral zone, and Waverly had a great feeling the Devils would gain possession. Nedley had sent out the Jenna—Nicole—Shae line for a reason, of course.

Waverly readied herself to mark down the result as the puck was dropped. Nicole was a split second too slow, and the Bobcats' center won it back to her defenseman. The visitors wasted no time in setting up their offensive attack once they gained entry to the zone.

The Bobcats moved the puck crisply, looking to open up seams in the Blue Devils' defense, but they all held their zones and did what they needed to, making it hard for their opponents to get chances. Eventually, the offense was left with no choice but to force a shot in hopes of getting a bounce or opening something up on a rebound, causing a deflection into the right corner boards.

Nicole took off in a foot race with the forward she was matched up against, and Waverly had an uneasy feeling of déjà vu as she watched her girlfriend barrel into the corner. When she saw the hit becoming imminent, she averted her eyes, but couldn't escape the sound of bodies colliding with an immovable object. Whistles blew and chaos followed, but Waverly couldn't tear her eyes off of Nicole lying practically facedown in the corner, stiff as a board.

Waverly opened a door inside her box that she didn't even know was there and sprinted onto the ice. She needed to make sure Nicole was okay. Nicole had to be okay. Just as she reached her girlfriend, however, she stumbled (stupid ice), and when she regained her bearings, she found herself blinded by lights somewhere that was most definitely not the rink.

The smell of antiseptic stung at her nostrils and the clinical sights and sounds hit her like a truck.

How the hell did she end up at the hospital?

She spotted Wynonna, holding an ice pack to her face, talking to a police officer while a young doctor stitched up a cut on her cheek. Apparently she had found her way to the ice and kicked the shit out of whoever hit Nicole.

Wait, Nicole. Where was she? Was she okay?

She jogged over to where her sister was, hoping to find an answer. Waverly was about to open her mouth to ask the question when a doctor burst through the door, looking for the Earps.

"Where is she? How's Nicole?" Waverly asked frantically.

"Waverly," the doctor said, their voice firm, sounding like not great news. "I don't know how to tell you this."

"Tell me what," she felt her chest tighten and her stomach turn.

"Nicole...her injuries were too severe, we did everything we could, but," they paused, "Nicole is dead."

Waverly bolted upright in bed, clutching one of the many blankets to her chest, trying to get a hold of her breathing and calm her racing heart.

A nightmare, she thought through the fog. Just a nightmare, right?

She looked around, waiting for her eyes to adjust to the darkness of the room looking for the one thing that would confirm the one coherent thought in her racing mind.

When she could finally see, she looked over to find Nicole Haught, sleeping soundly, her mouth hanging open ever so slightly and a few strands of hair straying into her face. Waverly watched and listened to the even breathing beside her; reached out to feel her girlfriend's warmth.