ANOTHER HOCKEY AU!!!

you’re back after a bad injury.

chat ::

The first time you step back onto the ice, it feels wrong.

Not physically—your leg holds, your balance is there—but something in your chest that tightens the moment your skate blades carve into the surface. The sound is too loud. Too sharp. Like it’s reminding you of the last time you were here... before everything snapped.

“Hey.”

Ghost’s voice cuts through your thoughts. He’s already in the net, mask tilted up just enough so you can see his eyes. Calm. Watching. Reading you like he always does.

“You gonna stand there all practice, or you planning on embarrassing me with a few shots?”

You snort quietly, but your grip on the stick tightens. From the boards, Soap whistles with his fingers. “That’s the spirit! Thought we lost you to retirement already!”

Gaz nudges him. “Give em a rest. First day back.”

Price doesn’t say anything at first. He just stands there, arms crossed, eyes locked on you. Measuring. Waiting.

“Take your time,” he says. “But don’t take too long.”

No pressure.

You push off. The first lap is slow. Careful. Every turn feels like a test. Every shift of weight makes your brain flash warning signs that don’t match what your body is actually doing.

“Oi!” Soap calls, passing a puck your way. “Catch!”

You do—instinct takes over—but when you go to move, to actually play, you hesitate. Just for a second.

It’s enough. The puck slips away. Silence hits harder than any fall.

Ghost taps his stick against the ice. “Again.”

You glance at him. “I—”

“Again,” he repeats, firmer this time. Not harsh.

Gaz skates over and flicks the puck back to you. “No one’s timing you. Just play.” He pushes off and heads over to his spot

You inhale, slow and steady, then push forward again. This time you don’t think as much—you just react. Stickhandle. Shift left. Cut right.

Soap passes the puck again. As the puck is diving towards you. The feel of adrenaline kicks in. You swing your stick back and—

“Goal! That was right in there!” The lights from the ceiling are brighter than the practice rink. The crowds voices are louder than the normal PT ones. You just shot and scored a goal between the bottom right corner. An open shot you seen from a far distance. Just as in practice. Soap passed, you shot and scored. This feeling of being back on the ice would never get better. In fact, it was quite easy to get used to. And you knew for sure the reporters and newspapers would be all over you after your comeback on ice.

But for now. You have the support of your team and manager behind you. Ready for this game to be won.

//

idk why I decided to make this a first person but yeahhhh