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After the Tampa match, it’s no surprise that Brad is sent straight to seek medical attention. Honestly, it’s expected for him to end up there after a match with the number of people out for his blood. A constant if you will. After a match, flip the bird. After a match, end up at the med bay. After a match, have Bergy stare at him with his sad, disappointed, puppy eyes. (Honestly, the best part.)
But, but today is a little different. Juuuuust a bit. He couldn’t stay on his skates without Bergy’s hand on his shoulder and maybe that’s a bit of a big problem. Okay, see! He can admit when he has a problem. His haters don’t know anything. He only needs Bergy to get him. Just like he got Brad’s back during that scrum. Those fuckers think he plays dirty but come on, they dogpile him at any chance. He’s aware of his height disadvantage - how is it fair for him that he always gets picked on?!
“Marchy,” and heyyyyyyyyyyy that’s Bergy! Speak of the devil! “Marchy!”
And hey!!!!!! “Bergy!! Why t-the face!” Bergy’s looking at him all worried and stuff. Like, like nooooooo, that’s not his favorite expression. Come on, smile Bergy!
Brad may be a bit out of it, he thinks. But it’s okay! Bergy’s here!
“The doc says you have a concussion,” Bergy swings his hand in front of Brad’s face, “So you’re going back home with me today, okay Marchy?”
AND YES, of course he’s okay with that. In fact that’s a brilliant idea, any excuse to spend more time with his best mate, bff, favourite teammate, bro in arms, is a great excuse. Concussions?? He should get that more.
“...Marchy?” Bergy looks even more concerned now and opps, did he just say some of that aloud? Ahah, concessions are great. It’s like alcohol without the addiction. Sighing, Bergy slides an arm under him and lifts him up. Oh god, if it weren’t Bergy doing this, Brad would totally fuck the heck out and go berserk on their ass. No one gets to lift him anymore, he’s past that tiny teddy bear phase, he’s NO ONE’s teddy bear, (except Bergy’s) he’s a 175 cm GIRAFFE.
And oh, they’re apparently they’ve reached their destination. Hey, he lost time! Next thing he knows, Bergy has settled him in a couch, all soft and stuff and is shaking him softly.
“Hey, you gotta stay awake,” soft brown eyes, soft like the couch he’s currently on stare at him, “Marchy, you got that?” And he doesn’t know man, sleeping sounds pretty good now.
“I don’t know mannnnn,” Brad repeats, but out loud this time, “Bergy you needa help me.” Whining, he pulls Bergy forward and- oh. Oh. That's an interesting spot he landed on. Looking up, he shoots a whoozy smile up at Bergy and pushes his hand down, hard. Man, that feels good.
He hears a harsh intake of air and then Bergy’s hand starts moving.