May 3rd, 2004

1:52 am; Michigan time

The game had ended. A fucking overtime goal sunk the Wings.

Beat the unbeatable.

Touched the untouchable.

Broke the unbreakable.

In the visitor's locker room, post mortum had sent in.

~*~

Curtis Joseph sat on the stool in front of his locker, still fully dressed, twenty minutes after the game had ended. None of his teammates said anything to him. They had let him down for the second year in a row.

"Curtis. Get showered." Dave Lewis finally said.

Unfocused brown eyes returned to life, horrible sadness alive in them. "I'll catch a cab back." He said, voice hoarse.

Dave hesitated, knowing this was a hard loss for him to bear. He opened his mouth to deny the request when Darren McCarty jumped in, "I'll stay Lewie." He said stepping up, in a state of half-undress.

Still, there was hesitation, "All right." But hurry up. I expect the both of you to be at dinner."

Darren nodded, "No problem."

Dave left to tend to his other broken players. Darren turned back to Curtis, who had resumed his intense staring at the floor. Darren didn't disturb him. He just went about himself; getting a shower.

When he returned, Curtis was still seated in the exact same position he had been in since he had plopped down forty minutes ago. But he had taken off is gloves and jersey. 'Progress.' Darren thought. With a sigh, he tightened his towel about his waist and stood before Curtis, hands on his hips, "Cuj," Curtis looked up, cheeks flushed. Darren's heart sank, "Come on, it's time to go."

Still there was no real reaction from the distraught goalie seated in front of him. Darren continued to look at him for a moment before bending down as far as his aching back would allow. He had one hell of a headache from being shoved face first into the boards, and his back was slowly but surely starting to throb once more. He looked into Curtis' eyes, "Cujo, this isn't the end of the world."

Curtis allowed a slight nod that he knew this, but Darren remained unconvinced. Sighing again, he stood and stepped up to Curtis; sliding his fingers around to the clasp of his shoulder pads. With a small click, they came loose, and Darren tossed them to the floor. Curtis looked slightly shocked at the attention Darren was paying him. He'd never had one of his teammates undress him before.

Another rush of blood flowed to his cheeks. The thought embaressed him. Deciding that he didn't need this much care, he hooked his fingers under the hem of his shirt; making to pull it up over his head, when Darren's fingers closed over his. Looking up, Darren just offered a small smile and a shake of his head, before guiding his shirt up. It landed on top of his pads, but his eyes were locked on Darren's.

Hands touched his shoulders, running lightly down his chest. A shiver ran through Curtis and his eyes widened just slightly. When Darren's fingers brushed against his abs and took hold of the waist of his pants, he jumped up.

Darren stumbled backwards, obviously not expecting the sudden outburst. He stared at the blushing goalie and thought to himself. He wasn't sure exactly when he was planning to stop in his mission to undress Curtis, but he did know that he had gotten lost at the look in his eyes. He wasn't sure how he had even gotten this far. Watching as Curtis held onto the top of his red pants, looking slightly embaressed and more than a little upset caused a surge of blood to his groin.

His eyes widened and he turned abruptly away, "I'll wait for you to finish up." He said before returning to his locker and gathering up his equipment so it would be easier for the managers to find and collect it for the flight back to Detroit.

Curtis didn't know what the make of the situation. He had absolutely no idea what had just happened. Darren McCarty was helping to undress him, and he allowed it. He let Darren touch him and had almost let him take off his pants. But at that moment, he panicked.

Deciding it best to forget what had taken place, he quickly stripped and wrapped his towel around his waist. He almost ran to the showers. Darren watched him, utterly confused. Why was he just now feeling this way towards Curtis? He felt the stirrings of attraction seeding in his body, and wasn't entirely opposed to it. But why now? He'd never looked at their goalie that way before. All he knew was that he was feeling something.

Curtis was dead set on taking the world's fastest shower, but the moment he stepped into the hot spray of water, he realized that he was alone. Not just alone in the physical sense, but mentally alone, with his thoughts.

How could he fail? He saw the goal happening. He saw it before it took place. He tried to stop it. He tried so hard.

Tears filled his eyes once more and he pressed his forearm to the wall. Stepping closer, he lay his head against it. 'Don't cry, Cuj. Come on...' He whispered inside his head. But it was no use. The tears that had been gathering for almost an hour slid out from under his pinched eyelids; making a silent trek down his cheeks.

He jumped when a had was suddenly placed on his shoulder. Spinning around, he almost lost his balance, and fell back against the wall. It was Darren, standing in his towel still.

"Darren," Curtis began, wiping quickly at his eyes.

But it was too late. Darren had seen his tears. A hand grabbed his, and stopped all motion.

Silence ensued.

As they stared at one another, it wasn't at all uncomfortable, just odd. Neither had really been too close with the other, but this interaction just felt right. Without realizing it, their fingers slowly slid through each other's. Their eyes never moving.

Darren's other hand was raised with hesitance, fingers gently touched Curtis' face. Though they were both soaked by now, Darren wiped away what remained of the goalie's tears. Dispite his efforts, more tears welled in his eyes. The gesture was overwhelming.

Darren's hand came to rest on his cheek. Breaking their eye contact, Curtis closed his eyes and turned his face into the rough palm; his other hand came up to cover Darren's. Their eyes met again, and Darren's hand slid around to his neck. Curtis was pulled slowly against the winger. Never once did the fact that he was completely naked cross his mind. For the first time all night, something felt right.

When he was pressed against Darren, head to toe, nothing was hidden. He was open and bare before his teammate. He felt vulnerable and afraid.

He closed his eyes and waited. Darren's arms held him tight. One hand stroked his back in a soothing motion as he rested his chin against Curtis' forehead. After a moment, Curtis tiped and laid his head on Darren's shoulder; hands holding tightly.

The warm water continued to wash over them as they stood in suspended silence. Curtis was hurt. Darren was healing.

Finally Darren spoke, "Talk to me Curtis."

His eyes opened and he brought his hand up to curl around Darren's neck. Swallowing the lump that had been forming in his throat, he tried to convay his feelings. "I feel like I'm dying." Darren still held him, rocking slightly. "I feel like I've let everyone down again... and I..." His voice began to crack as his eyes filled with tears once more, "I can't lose again." He began to cry anew, "I can't lose it... not again."

Darren's heart was breaking. Curtis should never have had to go through what he did this past season. The way the Wings management had jerked him around was unbelieveable. Darren had never been in that situation before, but he did know what it felt like to be broken. Knowing that there was nothing he could say that would take away his sobbing teammate's pain, he just held on and allowed him the chance to cry.

After a few minutes the shakes wracking Curtis' body subsided and his tears went into retreat; leaving a puffy-eyed goaltender in their wake. And the whole time, Darren stroked his back and held him through the pain.

"I feel like I'm falling." He whispered.

Removing one of his hands from Curtis' back, he lifted his chin so their eyes were again locked on to one another's, "I'm here to catch you." Darren whispered back. "I'll always catch you."

No other words were needed. Curtis tipped up onto his toes and Darren leaned down. Their lips met in a slow, tender kiss. There were no heated advances and neither attempted to deepen it. There were just content to hold each other with their mouth's joined in a soft union.

Darren could feel the anguish and bitter pain that had taken root in Curtis' body. It infiltrated their kiss, making it that much more intense. Darren felt for Curtis, and wanted to take away as much of his pain as he could. Gently stroking back the long strands of black hair, he tried as hard as he could to tell Curtis that he was here for him.

And he would always catch him.