http://holdeverysong.livejournal.com/ (![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png)
holdeverysong.livejournal.com) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
2minsforslashing2008-04-06 12:15 am
holdeverysong.livejournal.com) wrote in 2minsforslashing2008-04-06 12:15 am
Entry tags:
CALL TO ARMS
Title: Call to Arms
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
geekintehpink
Pairing/Characters: Glen Murray, PJ Axelsson
Rating: PG
Warnings: None.
Summary: Glen was in need of a pep talk, and PJ helped him out.
Word Count: 696
Author's Notes: Unbeta'd. So if it's crap, please be gentle.
There was a time, not long ago, when I didn't believe in much. Everything I'd had, everything I'd gotten comfortable with...everything in my life that I had loved, it was taken from me. And it made me fear letting myself fall into something new. It was like the rug was torn from underneath me, and I was smacked in the face with the harsh reality that things just weren't going to happen. I was seconds away from giving up on everything, from my career to actually having love in my life—which is odd of a married man to say, but Katie and I both know that our marriage isn't an arrangement of love, and we understand it well. But yes, I was seconds from giving up, tossing it all over my shoulder and never looking at it again. Until about a month ago.
I was in the locker room after practice, ungearing myself and wondering why in the hell I hadn't been traded across the planet, seeing as how our winning streak had been brought to an abrupt end, in a week that we were outscored nineteen to four. Nothing seemed to be going right, and I was getting tired of the same old story as far as this team went.
I gave my shoulder pads a particularly hard toss to the floor, and caught a couple of eyes as they made their way to the door, but I shrugged them off with a wave of my hand. Most of them—the younger guys who weren't as aware of the dynamic of an already shaken team—continued out the door. But one stayed. And that one...didn't surprise me at all. A mop of messy blonde hair appeared before me as PJ Axelsson knelt down and looked at me. “Muzz, don't tell me that I have to give you the rookie pep talk...I thought we were past this...” he said with that patented PJ smirk on his face.
I smiled a little in return, seeing as how PJ could always bring that reaction from me, and I shook my head. “No need for a rookie pep talk, PJ. I'm just...god, I'm tired. I'm nearing 1,000 games here, and I'm not the same player I was 500 games ago...” I said softly.
“No, you're not,” PJ agreed.
I looked at him for a second, an eyebrow raising up in confusion. “Gee, thanks for the pep talk, Axe. I knew I could count on you,” I said with an indignant scoff.
“You didn't let me finish...” he said, removing himself from the floor and taking a seat next to be on the bench in front of my locker. “You're not the same player, Muzz, because you're smarter. It's you up there, telling rookies and young kids where to go and what to do...and where you'll be. It's you doing what others did for you. You're a role model to them, Muzz. Don't let age ruin the time you have left—which, by the way, is still plenty...” he smiled at me.
I stared at him for a second, feeling my lips curl up into a smile. Granted, I was still sort of down. It was a few seasons worth of lows; way too many for him to have to fix with just one sentence, but the sentiment wasn't lost on me. I smoothed a hand over my hair and held my head a little higher. Because, really, without PJ...this season I'd have had no one around who knew the turmoils of what had gone wrong since the last season we played well. “Thanks Axe...” I said, getting up from my spot and looking at him, so we could leave the arena together.
The funny thing is? Looking back on it now, even as I had been ready to give up on everything; no, even before then, PJ was there. PJ has always been there. And now, as we're preparing to forge into almost-forgotten territory of the playoffs, I have PJ to thank for picking me up off the floor. He's always been there. And I'll always be there for him too.
Do you feel like you've lost everything you can lose?
This is it, can you hear me?
When you cry do your tears ever chill up the room?
Calling out every moment of need.
Do you ever lay awake with the look in the eye?
Asking God if a wish is too big to deny.
I will offer a line, and it's ready for use.
Let me know, are you ready for me?
Author:
geekintehpinkPairing/Characters: Glen Murray, PJ Axelsson
Rating: PG
Warnings: None.
Summary: Glen was in need of a pep talk, and PJ helped him out.
Word Count: 696
Author's Notes: Unbeta'd. So if it's crap, please be gentle.
There was a time, not long ago, when I didn't believe in much. Everything I'd had, everything I'd gotten comfortable with...everything in my life that I had loved, it was taken from me. And it made me fear letting myself fall into something new. It was like the rug was torn from underneath me, and I was smacked in the face with the harsh reality that things just weren't going to happen. I was seconds away from giving up on everything, from my career to actually having love in my life—which is odd of a married man to say, but Katie and I both know that our marriage isn't an arrangement of love, and we understand it well. But yes, I was seconds from giving up, tossing it all over my shoulder and never looking at it again. Until about a month ago.
I was in the locker room after practice, ungearing myself and wondering why in the hell I hadn't been traded across the planet, seeing as how our winning streak had been brought to an abrupt end, in a week that we were outscored nineteen to four. Nothing seemed to be going right, and I was getting tired of the same old story as far as this team went.
I gave my shoulder pads a particularly hard toss to the floor, and caught a couple of eyes as they made their way to the door, but I shrugged them off with a wave of my hand. Most of them—the younger guys who weren't as aware of the dynamic of an already shaken team—continued out the door. But one stayed. And that one...didn't surprise me at all. A mop of messy blonde hair appeared before me as PJ Axelsson knelt down and looked at me. “Muzz, don't tell me that I have to give you the rookie pep talk...I thought we were past this...” he said with that patented PJ smirk on his face.
I smiled a little in return, seeing as how PJ could always bring that reaction from me, and I shook my head. “No need for a rookie pep talk, PJ. I'm just...god, I'm tired. I'm nearing 1,000 games here, and I'm not the same player I was 500 games ago...” I said softly.
“No, you're not,” PJ agreed.
I looked at him for a second, an eyebrow raising up in confusion. “Gee, thanks for the pep talk, Axe. I knew I could count on you,” I said with an indignant scoff.
“You didn't let me finish...” he said, removing himself from the floor and taking a seat next to be on the bench in front of my locker. “You're not the same player, Muzz, because you're smarter. It's you up there, telling rookies and young kids where to go and what to do...and where you'll be. It's you doing what others did for you. You're a role model to them, Muzz. Don't let age ruin the time you have left—which, by the way, is still plenty...” he smiled at me.
I stared at him for a second, feeling my lips curl up into a smile. Granted, I was still sort of down. It was a few seasons worth of lows; way too many for him to have to fix with just one sentence, but the sentiment wasn't lost on me. I smoothed a hand over my hair and held my head a little higher. Because, really, without PJ...this season I'd have had no one around who knew the turmoils of what had gone wrong since the last season we played well. “Thanks Axe...” I said, getting up from my spot and looking at him, so we could leave the arena together.
The funny thing is? Looking back on it now, even as I had been ready to give up on everything; no, even before then, PJ was there. PJ has always been there. And now, as we're preparing to forge into almost-forgotten territory of the playoffs, I have PJ to thank for picking me up off the floor. He's always been there. And I'll always be there for him too.
This is it, can you hear me?
When you cry do your tears ever chill up the room?
Calling out every moment of need.
Do you ever lay awake with the look in the eye?
Asking God if a wish is too big to deny.
I will offer a line, and it's ready for use.
Let me know, are you ready for me?