TITLE: Sundown
AUTHOR: Bernie
PAIRING: Sergei Fedorov /Pavel Datsyuk
Fiction means this is made up
RATING: R Mention of M/M, Mention of death and
suicide.
A/NÕs.
Umm, this is the result of reading the death notices in the papers at
work, and preparing for another unnatural North American Christmas.
It is his rule that he only ever gets a little drunk.
About a third of a bottle, maybe two of three times a month. There is no one
there to keep an eye on him, so Sergei has to police himself. He does this
admirably. He even eats properly. He has a sweet tooth that he has ignored for
twenty years.
He sometimes toys with a beer when he is out with the
Wings. He allows himself a great deal of champagne whenever he wins the Stanley
Cup. He never drinks when he is rooming with Pavel, as in the dark he fears he
will forget how to be good.
He is not worried because they are both Red Wings. He
has had: good, ok, and, disastrous flings with teammates over the years. All of
which he now looks on with affection. Even the people who broke his heart he
loves now, because they had engaged him in some way.
He rather liked being heart broken because it made him
feel connected with the world instead of being merely an observer. A position
which, upon reflection, he thinks he may have chosen for himself rather than
been forced into.
But being a watcher rather than an active participant
is a habit that seems to have become more firmly entrenched as time has passed.
He was kept separate as a child because of his hockey skills, coddled and
nurtured by the Soviet system. And when he arrived in America he was uncertain
about the language, and feared looking foolish so kept mostly to him self.
With his junior teammates it was a constant whirl of
fighting and fucking. Flings that he looks back on with amused reserve. The
rookies and juniors were puppies scrapping and playing on the floor of the
locker rooms. They were tolerated their histrionics and hysteria. The steady
influence of veteran players was occasionally employed if open warfare
threatened to start.
Sergei finds himself delighted to be in that position
now. Mediating between warring tribes. He finds himself quite pleased to be
considered a peacemaker. He dislikes fighting in a locker room, as he is uneasy
around factions. Partially is worried he will pick the wrong one, partially he
thinks they soak up energy that could be better employed in winning games. Or,
perhaps, in hobbies outside of hockey, for those who have hobbies. Or, for
family, for those who have families.
Sergei certainly loves his family. He regrets not
spending more time with them when he is away. Fedor thrills him. He feels
almost paternal pride in what he has become.
He admits to himself that his fairly blind to FedorÕs
faults, but feels it balances out, because others are more than happy to point
FedorÕs faults out to him.
Sometimes he dreams he is drowning. He is not
struggling, he is not beckoning to the lifeguards on duty, he is waving
goodbye. The water is warm around him and he opens his arms, inviting the
liquid to surround him, embracing it.
He feels delightfully free.
He, paradoxically, feels very alive.
He does know that if he did this he would soon be
dead.
Other times he dreams he is falling from a great
height. Feeling the clouds kiss his cheeks as he plummets down. He does not
twist or sway in the wind. He never closes his eyes and he never screams. He
faces down, the sun at his back. He does not speed up or slow down. When he
gets close to the earth he can start to recognise landmarks. His parentÕs
house, the Joe Louis arena, the Red Square of his youth before there was a
McDonalds.
He never falls over areas he does not know well.
He never hits the ground, always snapping out of the
dream before his nose actually touches the dirt. Sergei does not actually have
these dreams when he is sleeping. Only when he is zoned out. Once, when he lost
track of the conversations in the dressing room, he thought about his friendÕs
farm. There is a well there. He imagines that he climbs over the little fence
surrounding it, and reaching across holds onto the bar across the top, then he
swings himself over the side of the low stone wall, and when his body is poised
perfectly, his toes pointed down, he drops into the centre of the world.
On plane trips, as the clouds blur into a fluffy haze
around the windows, he will dream sliding silently off the side of his boat,
although he does not have a boat he could easily acquire one, he floats on his
back with his arms spread out.
He floats away, weightless on the waves command.
Sometimes he is standing on the wing of a plane being
sucked into the slipstream. This has not caused him to be scared of flying.
Sergei is not really scared of anything, except spiders and insects. And even
then he is not really frightened of them. He just thinks they have too many
feet and would probably feel rather strange if they were walking on his skin.
He thinks this is a wholly reasonable position. He certainly doesnÕt scream if
he sees them, although he takes a slightly sick joy in washing them down the
drain if they are in his shower.
He is always nearly at the point of discovery when he
is distracted. Does he hit the ground and splatter into bloody meat? Break his
ankles when he hits the surface of water in the well? Get eaten by sharks? He
never knows, because his concentration is always broken. Someone will ask a
question, or request the tape that is sitting on the bench next to him.
Now he finds himself seeking out Pavel when he is
interrupted from his waking dreams. It is reassuring to him that he has not, in
fact, jumped out of the plane, supposing he could even get the door open.
He can never pick up the thought from where he left
off, he always has to start at the beginning. If he tries to fall faster or
speed up to the middle of his waking dreams, his brain gets annoyed with him
and terminates the thought. Sergei is mildly concerned about not being entirely
in control of his mind. But, he takes comfort from the though that as long as
the only voice that he hears in his head is his own, he must not be crazy.
Sergei has been responsible for some truly
awe-inspiringly stupid decisions in his life. He has also hurt a number of
people. Once he stopped being a callow teenager he felt rather bad about the
pain he had inflicted. He has mostly tried to make repercussions. He feels on
the scales of justice he is probably even, should he die unexpectedly. He has
tried to be a good person and feels that counts for a lot. He only has
homicidal thoughts when he is driving, and he reasons that as he lives in
Detroit this is an entirely acceptable position.
To the surprise of many he does not consider Anna to
be a huge mistake. He had been very fond of her, and around her had felt
himself a little more engaged in the world. He had usually managed to remain
focused, if not totally on her, than at least not in the perfunctory fashion
that he usually dealt with his non-sleeping moments. She created an environment
that was slightly more than: walk forward, left foot-right-foot, breathe in and
breathe out.
Sergei sometimes feels that being alive is a type of
dance; once you master the basic steps you just do it automatically. But if it
is a dance he does not understand why he is always doing a box step, while the
rest of the world seems to tango and salsa and sometimes do the chicken dance.
He feels alive on the ice. He never switches off
there. He loves hockey and has a tingle of anticipation whenever the season is
about to begin. He likes the smell of arenaÕs and locker rooms. There are only
a few people in hockey he hates; and stubbornly he tries to find reasons to
like them. Pavel is around hockey too, which is a bonus. Sergei looks forward
to going to training and seeing him.
Sometimes he thinks of getting a pet, but the problem
is not that he is lonely, not totally; the problem is that he is not really
there at all. He is existing, but not being. He thinks he would make an animal
uneasy, that they would sense his dislocation with the world the same way they
are supposed to sense evil. Besides he is not home a lot, and he would hate for
an animal to be unhappy or mis-treated.
Still, he was less than heart broken when Anna broke
up with him, even though it meant he would be staying in his house by himself.
When she fights with whom ever she is dating she sometimes calls Sergei.
He manages to dissuade her from getting back with him
by saying he wants to marry and be a parent. Anna is not ready for children.
Sergei is glad that she has never called his bluff,
because, really, he is not ready for children either.
Another thing that would surprise outsiders is that
Sergei is excellent around children. He is a great ŌuncleĶ and occasionally
baby-sits. When he sits out games with injury he gravitates towards the kids
brought to the games from local hospitals. They are often nervous around him
thinking him aloof, but end up liking him. He treats children with the same
detached calm he uses with everyone else. He certainly never talks down to
them, or considers their opinion any less valid than adults because of their
relative lack of inches.
Several Red Wings daughters have had crushes on him.
He gently lets them down. They often end up loving him more.
Lately he has considered total flight. He imagines
being a nomad. His contract will end soon and he has plenty of money. His
investments grow like weeds and he keeps only half an eye on them. He has given
a lot of money away, he feels extremely happy about this, he likes to help
people and since he has taken care of those around him he feels it is only
appropriate to extend into the wider community.
He keeps many letters from grateful families.
When he is feeling particularly removed from the world
he will read them. They make him feel a member of the community. He is just as
pleased with the families that name their dogs after him, as the two couples
who named their sonsÕ after him.
He imagines Fiji in MichiganÕs winters. The occasional
cyclone seems a small price to pay for paradise. In his more fanciful moments
he images he could afford a whole island.
He speaks to Alex on the phone regularly. Their lives
seem very different now. He dearly loves him and suspects that if he ever has a
son he will call the child Alexander. Sergei does, however, utilise caller ID
on the nights he has been drinking. Vodka may loosen his tongue enough to ask
Alex why they did not work out. He has never tested this theory; resolutely
ignoring any ringing that occurs once the first sip has touched his tongue.
He thinks he knows the answer anyway, simply Alex is
not gay, he was curious. Natalie is lovely anyway; Sergei is pleased Alex is
happy. Besides he hates scenes. He skates smoothly across the surface of life.
He does not pause for long enough to break the meniscus. He does not look down at
the fish.
Sergei looks straight ahead. The sun at his back.
One day Sean Avery programmed his cell phone to play
jingle bells. He was halfway thorough his third of a bottle of vodka when
Brendan tried to call him.
He half hummed the words when Steve then Chris called
him. By the time Brett called him three times in a row he was singing the
words, at first in a mumbled half-ironic fashion, but finally clearly, although
not loudly or drunkenly. He even remembers the joke version singing Ōjingle
bells, batman smells, robin ran awayĶ when Dave calls. He is not conscious of
ever being taught the worlds and supposes he must have absorbed them through
his skin over thirteen American ChristmasesÕ.
Sergei is absurdly pleased by this thought, and sleeps
that night smiling broadly.
Christmas must be very different in Fiji. Perhaps it
is not properly festive to have tinsel on coconut trees. If there are even
coconut trees there.
Sergei decides his Fiji does have coconut trees, and
exotic parrots.
And horrible insects that he will be delighted to be
afraid of.
The last time he was genuinely happy was winning the
Stanley Cup. Which was not very long ago. This happiness was not fleeting, in
quiet moments he can close his eyes and remember that exact feeling. The
sensation never lessens and never fails to make him feel happy. The delicious
feeling of being exhausted of having no more to give.
He felt complete and included.
He felt of this world.
Sometimes when he and Pavel share a room Sergei will
awaken to find himself perched on the edge of the bed, his hands over the side
of the mattress, like in the night he had stretched across the divide between
the two of them. Sometimes when the curtains are not closed properly he will
feel the sun on his back pushing him forward. It is not quite hot enough to
force him forward, not quite strong enough for him to take that step and fall
toward Pavel.
He is good friends with most of his teammates. Steve
and he have become more than friends through process of elimination. They have
both been around for so long that it is easier to be close. Steve has come to
lean on Sergei when he needs another male to talk to. They have a type of
brotherhood. The type of family bonds that mean they donÕt have to talk every
day, (because Brendan is certainly his Ôbest friendÕ), but when they need each
other it is expected they will be on the doorstep. Sergei thinks Steve has done
a fantastic job of being captain. Despite being straight he has handled all the
relationships well. He does a fine job of talking to the rookies who have girl
troubles as well as boy troubles.
Once when he and Lisa were fighting and he was
terribly drunk on SergeiÕs couch he asked Sergei what it was like to be with
another man. He then asked Sergei to close his eyes and when he did Sergei felt
SteveÕs lips on his. He kept his eyes closed all though what was rather a sweet
kiss. He opened then when Steve pressed his forehead to his and said thank-you.
Sergei had been happy to do it. They never mentioned it again, but were closer
friends after that.
Sergei thinks if he has two sons one of them will
probably have the middle name Steven. He thinks that his kids should have
Russian first names, but the middle name is up in the air.
He finds himself enjoying Brett HullÕs company. Brett
lives in the moment and it is a position that Sergei envies. Brett says what he
thinks and damn the consequences. But he is more complex than the outward flash
would indicate. He is fiercely loyal and unswervingly supportive of his friends
and family. These are also traits with Sergei admires. If Brett is sometimes
consumed by his passions he is also renewed by his desires. Next to him Sergei
sometimes feels like an empty seed. Something barren and unfulfilled.
Sergei finds his adoration of Sean and their
May-December romance sweet, and a good sign; obviously there is no real reason
why he and Pavel could not work out. Although perhaps with less noisy fights
and less extravagant make up sessions.
Brett confided in Sergei that the reason he and Sean work well is they
maintain separate homes and donÕt room together on the road all that often.
Sergei wants to live with Pavel though, and enjoys the times they share a room.
He thinks he would like seeing PavelÕs face every
morning.
When he was in Russia with the Stanley Cup he was
amazed to see how much the country had changed. The Russia in his mind had
never grown up, or the vision he had of it was one belonging to a younger man.
He is glad Igor bullied him into going. Besides it mended the relationship that
had cooled since Sergei had not gone to the Olympics. He does not regret not
playing in the Olympics, but values IgorÕs friendship and hates that the man he
has modelled a lot of his professional career upon is mad at him. They have a few
long talks into the night and are good again.
In Russia he can also watch Pavel. He finds himself
admiring the young manÕs poise in the face of the rapacious media there. As
much, if not more than, the way he admired his unfailing cheerfulness in the face
of the American media despite often not having a clue what they were saying to
him.
The irony of the person he wants being called Pavel is
not lost on him. In his mind he separates the two PavelÕs by pronunciation.
BureÕs name he thinks of having a hard P and A sound, whereas his Pavel he
thinks of sounding softer, and he seems to smile whenever he says the name.
Lately he has felt the sun against his back is
stronger, hotter. Gravity is pulling him from the clouds onto the earth. Soon,
he thinks, he will find out what happens when he sinks below the waves, when he
touches ground.
He should do it soon. Pavel is waiting.
Pavel will be thrilled to imagine himself one day
celebrating Christmas in the South Pacific. He thinks two is a sensible number
of children to want to have, and has no problems with the names that Sergei has
imagined over the years.
He has been thinking lately that he should make the
first move towards Sergei, one of them simply has to something or they will
both explode. No other star has ever shone for him.
Dandy will be the first to find out about the
relationship. He will tell Sean who will of course tell Brett, who will enlist
MaxÕs aid in teasing Pavel. Pavel will prove remarkably resilient to their
hazing and will simply smile and agree with everything they say.
Sergei will worry about the dressing room and attempt
to keep things quiet. This will annoy Steve and Brendan who will cook up their
own scheme. One day when Sergei is sitting, freshly showered after practise,
Steve will drop down onto his lap and announce that Ôhe has always lusted after
SergeiÕs Russian-nessÕ and plant a huge kiss on his lips. It is the second and
last time the two men will kiss. Pavel will come out of the shower; see this,
and stomping over drag Steve off SergeiÕs lap. He will scold his captain in
broken English, give up when he canÕt force the words out and sit on SergeiÕs
lap himself, declaring the Russian his.
He is the last man that Sergei ever kisses.
The dressing room will cheer.
Dave Lewis will put the two on a line in the last
twenty seconds of their next home victory, no one will comment on how long they
hug for on the ice.
Sergei rather likes being his, and will be his for
twenty-three ridiculously happy years.
Something terrible happens that is also terribly
unfair. Sergei thinks about this event only in nightmares. He has no words to
describe it in English or Russian. He is aware only of warmth that had been
around him now being absent. He feels unmoored and begins to have his old sinking
and falling waking dreams.
But these dreams are darker and heavier. He is being
smothered in dirt, or going over the edge of a waterfall. He does not open his
arms to the rushing water but merely submits to the forces beyond his control.
These thoughts jump into his mind unbidden. Even when he is focused on
something terribly important he will suddenly be chocking on a mouthful of
ashes, wondering when the lights went out.
He avoids the place where the terribleness, the
unfairness, happened and moves out of Florida. He is slightly bemused to spend
his first Christmas alone in the McDonalds in the Detroit airport. Christmas
had been an important time to the two of them; it was over Christmas that
Sergei had finally stepped toward Pavel.
Sergei knows that even if he had been warned of how
this would end, so cruelly, so suddenly, he would still have stood in front of
Pavel that evening. He would still have touched his cheek and whispered
something to him. He would still have kissed him.
Ten years later Pavel would ask Sergei what he had
said. Sergei is amazed to realise that he must have spoken in English, even
more amazed to realise he does not remember what he said. He thinks about how
he felt that night and realizes that he probably babbled out gibberish. But he
remembers how he felt, so he tells Pavel; ÔI said I think I am falling in love
with you.Õ
PavelÕs delighted smile remains with Sergei to this
day.
When he closes his eyes in quiet moments Sergei can
feel that happiness again.
Those moments are the bread that sustains life.
Finally having a Christmas in Fiji, Sergei can feel a
ghostly hand in his as he splashes through the shallows.
He wonders a lot about life after death, and if we do
meet the people we love there. He tries to think of reasons why he should not,
in fact yield. Step deeper into the clear blue water. Let it cover his feet,
his ankles, his knees, his chest, over the place where his heart used to be,
above his head, open his arms and embrace the water and what must inevitably
happen next.
There is Alexandria, of course, Sergei thinks the
world of his daughter and has constantly had to resist spoiling her. He is
thrilled she is not in the least bit sporting and has decided to be a nurse or
a doctor or a fire fighter. He thinks she will do marvellously in any of these
occupations. She is the best reason to remain splashing in the shallows. Also
there is Paul Steven who is back in college after being affected almost as
deeply by the terrible event as Sergei was. He had had problems with drinking
and asked his father how to stop. Sergei had gone back to his old habit of a
third of a bottle a couple of times a month, and it was to his credit that he
never went further than that. A good therapist had helped. Mostly it had been the
love that Sergei had blanketed both his children in.
Now they have started to remember the good times. They
cry on the phone together and Paul is nearly ready to bring his first and only
girlfriend home. Sergei and Alex will adore Brittany even as they tease her
about her name mercilessly. Paul will have more than twenty-three happy years,
and although Sergei is not around for all of them he would be delighted was he
ever told.
Alex will go through many partners being finding
people who make her happy.
The slight mass of clouds in the sky part. Alex puts
her warm hand over the ghost hand in his. Sergei tilts his head up and feels
the sun against his face. If you could look down on Sergei now you would see
the years fall away. The silver tracings in his hair turn to gold, his skin
becomes firm, smooth and unlined. Looking closer you would see Pavel; his face
turned to Sergei his eyes shinning with love and laughter.
And although it was actually the wind that whisked the
undryable tears on his face away Sergei could swear that he felt PavelÕs
fingers on his cheek.
When he opens his eyes they will be clear and blue.
And he will never kiss another person in his life.
Because, somewhere, for as long as is necessary, Pavel
is waiting.
End.
Bernie.