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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.

 

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