Who I am

Disclaimer: This is a purely fan-made piece that is using the world and characters from Ngozi Ukazu's Check Please!, and is made entirely for enjoyment. No financial gain has been made in the making of this piece. All other situations and plot developments are mine.

Summary: He knew what was expected of him; he could do what was expected of him; he could be that guy.

Author's Note: Character study of Whiskey. Possible out-of-characterness and un-beta'd.

Constructive Criticism is always welcomed

Published: 29 November 2018

Rating: K+

The lacrosse team was easier to hang around than the hockey team. They were familiar; Connor knew what to do with them, how to act, what to say. There was comfort in that. He knew what was expected of him; he could do what was expected of him; he could be that guy.

With the hockey team…he had no idea. He didn't know what they wanted from or who he was supposed to be. He didn't know what was safe to laugh at or what was okay to say or what was considered acceptable. The team was too…different. He didn't know the rules.

With the lacrosse team, the rules were the same as they had been with his sport teams in school. Connor had learned years ago how to blend in with those kinds of guys and while he couldn't say that he'd made many close friends that way, he also had avoided a whole host of negative things by changing to fit in. Friendship versus survival. It balanced out.

Still, he looked across the street and wondered. He'd never had a team so…open before. Things that definitely would put a target on you back in the other teams he'd played with were treated as normal and totally okay here.

Like Bitty's (amazing) baking or the fact that Bitty was clearly not straight. Like Chowder's child-like obsession with the Sharks (and life in general). Like Wags's addiction to telenovelas. Like Nursey's inability to walk without completely crashing into something if Dex was nearby. Like Wicks's deep and violent love for all things Jane Austen and Anne Brontë.

Even Tango's incessant (and annoying and often tactless) questions were borne with patience and a semblance of grace. People put up with it, and nobody punched him or locked him in stall with an overflowing toilet or snapped his jock strap for every question.

There also was the comradery. Bitty would happily feed you if you came within twenty feet of the kitchen. Hugs were available upon request—and were offered if you just looked 'down'. Dex could—and would—fix just about anything and would do so for nothing in return. It was normal for someone to crank a song up and everyone to join in, singing and dancing away. The captains would spend hours practicing with you if you said you wanted to improve a skill set on the ice. Ollie would cheerfully drill you on whatever subject you needed help studying for. Everyone would go to everyone else's thing—whether it was a concert, a showing, a reading, a presentation, a showcase, an exhibition, or a test—and cheer loudly for each other.

Connor had never seen—much less been a part of—a team so dedicated to its players. Training and winning—while still important—almost seem to take a back seat to the people on the team.

On some level, it looked very freeing. On most levels, it was downright terrifying.

So Connor hung out with the lacrosse team. It was easier that way.

It wasn't until Chad S. started making snide comments about the hockey team and Connor automatically corrected him that he realised that the team had started to get under his skin. Both Chads had stared at him for breaking out of his mould, so he quickly tacked on 'they're pretty weird', which seemed to satisfy them and they moved on, but Connor was a bit freaked out by the slip. He'd survived this long by not doing things like that. He blended. He was the guy who was there. The quiet one who was good, but didn't bother anyone.

What was worse, though, was when Chad S. started his tirade—his completely wrong, stupid, homophobic tirade (and wow—when had Connor started thinking like that?)—Connor had actually felt a stab of anger. Real, honest-to-goodness anger. How dare this guy make these stupid snap judgements about some of the nicest, most inclusive, and most supportive people on the campus! Yes, they were loud and perhaps a little clique-ish and strange, but they cared. Everyone on the team mattered. Could the lacrosse team say the same thing?!

Connor hadn't allowed himself to feel anger off of the ice for such a long time it shocked him when he did. He excused himself from the Chads shortly after their exchange because he didn't want to know what might come after anger.

He went to the library to do homework and he spotted Dex sitting in a corner, typing. Dex was his 'point person', as Bitty liked to call them. Apparently, the upperclassmen all got assigned an underclassman so there was a line of mentors for the underclassman to look up to (Connor's mentor line was Dex, Wicks, and Ransom).

And Dex was…grumpy, but kind of cute (there was a reason Nursey followed him around like a needy, grabby toddler) and really nice if you got past the crankiness. He wasn't all that demonstrative, but he would tell you when you did well. He was probably the person that Connor was most comfortable with on the team because he expected nothing from the freshman.

The other great thing about Dex? He was perfectly fine with leaving you alone.

He glanced up when Connor settled down across from him, muttered 'oh, hey, Whiskey', and went back to his typing. And that was it. He didn't ask questions, he didn't make small talk, he just acknowledged Connor and went back to what he was doing.

It was almost relaxing to do his homework. He didn't have to think about how he slipped up with the lacrosse guys or how the hockey guys had managed to crack his walls or how he had no idea what do about either of those things.

Easier not to think about any of it.

A few hours later, Dex grunted out 'hey, dinnertime. You gonna come?' as he glared at his laptop screen before shutting it sharply and stretching. Normally, Connor ate with the lacrosse guys, but he wasn't sure he was ready to face them right now. And the hockey team, for all of its strangeness, would welcome him and wouldn't demand anything from him.

"Yeah," he said and gathered up his things. He wondered, as they left the library, what it meant when the Samwell Men's Hockey team was considered the less stressful and safer option.

He sat with Dex for dinner, and was quickly joined by Ransom, Holster, and Nursey. "Sooooo…" Holster drawled while Ransom pulled out his laptop and booted it up. "We see that you're having a bonding sesh with your point person! Has it been living up to your expectations? Has Dex here helped 'ease the transition'?"

Connor glanced between his captains. "Are you guys…surveying me?"

"Bro, satisfaction surveys are the cornerstone of our consumer-centric culture! How can we know if we're providing the best service possible if you don't tell us?"

Dex looked like he wanted to throttle someone as Nursey laughed. "Fuck off and let the kid eat in peace," the lean defenseman snapped.

"Now Dex," Holster said. "You're just worried because it's your reputation on the line and that's perfectly natural—"

"—The hell—"

"—But shut up and stop skewing the data." The captain turned back to Connor. "Pretend he's not here."

Connor stared before glancing over at the redhead. "Is this for real?" He asked because he couldn't tell if this was something that was actually happening or if the team was pranking him; Dex would, if nothing else, be honest.

Dex sighed and glared at the captains. "No, they're serious," he finally grumbled. He glanced over at the freshman. "If you don't want me here, I'll go. Don't want to 'skew the data' by having you say something you don't mean."

"Dex, chill," Nurse said as he threw his arm across the back of Dex's chair a move that was a little too causal. "All Whiskey here's going to tell them is that you're a grumpy old man with no chill whatsoever."

"Fuck off, Nursey," Dex snapped.

"You don't have to go," Connor said before Dex and Nursey could descend into another one of their bickering matches. He poked at his salad for a moment before shrugging. "Dex's been good. He always answers my questions and he helped me with my drills last week."

Ransom started typing furiously while Holster nodded. "Interesting, interesting. So he's been helping you have the full Samwell Experience?"

"What does that even mean?" Connor asked after he stared at them blankly for a few minutes.

Ransom frowned and made some notes.

Holster shook his head. "Ouuu, that's not good for you, Dex. Not good at all. Do you feel that Dex is fulfilling the mentor role in a way that is satisfying and helpful to you?"

"Yeah."

Dex glanced over, looking a little surprised and maybe even a little flattered when Connor didn't even pause with his answer. The other hockey players appeared a little amazed, but Ransom then nodded and typed a few more things into his spreadsheet.

Nursey scooted his chair closer to Dex's. "Well, whaddya know," he said. "You've become a role model to the taddy! You haven't scared him off!"

"Go to hell," Dex muttered, cheeks pink and ears rapidly becoming red.

"On a scale of one to five," Holster leaned towards Connor, "with one being abysmal and five being excellent, what would you rank your point person and his bonding seshes?"

Connor took a bite of his spinach to give him a moment and he chewed slowly, thinking. "I don't know, four or five, I guess."

"Um," Dex said.

Both Holster and Ransom's eyebrows shot up in tandem and Nursey leaned over Dex so he could peer at Connor. "Huh," the curly-haired defenceman muttered.

Ransom frantically typed a few more things.

Holster's eyebrows were still raised. "Four or five? Are you sure?"

Connor shrugged slightly. "He's been helpful. And he showed me how to sew on buttons and how to streamline my computer. He also fixed my bookshelf." Dex also didn't expect him to justify or explain his hang out time with the lacrosse team, like most of the people on team did; the guy was content to let Connor make his own decisions after he'd put in his two cents on the matter ("dudes are assholes; be careful around them.").

The blond captain beamed. "All righty then! Do you have any parting comments? What would make your experience on the Samwell Hockey Team better?"

"Less surveys," Connor said and Dex choked on his milk while Nursey roared with glee, nearly falling into the redhead's lap.

Ransom and Holster looked offended for all of ten seconds, and then they snorted before bursting into laughter. "Yup, definitely been hanging around Dex!" Ransom managed to get out a few seconds later. He added something to his notes and then closed his laptop.

"Clearly bonding with his point person," Holster agreed, a large grin on his face. "And that's what we wanted to know! Thank you for your participation!"

The conversation turned to the Falcons after that and it was nice to talk about hockey with people who understood. The lacrosse guys had no interest to discuss the Falcons other than to point out that some dude from the college got drafted on to the team. Any time Connor wanted to talk about Jack Zimmermann, they did little to hide their very mild interest in the situation.

The hockey guys, however, had stories and tales and argued over what Mr Zimmermann—'Call me Jack'—should do next in his rookie season.

When Connor left the dining hall, he'd been coerced into agreeing to come to the next movie night ("gonna be siiiiiiiiiick, amrite?!"), mainly because Dex had said 'they're not too bad. Bitty always bakes for them' and Nursey had to point out that Dex always helped in the kitchen, and Connor was curious.

As he walked back his dorm, he reflected that spending more time with the team probably wasn't going help him keep his guard up and it would—most likely—blow up in his face later, but he was beginning to wonder. He had come to Samwell because it was supposed to be…different and freeing and friendly, and if all he did was keep the same patterns that he had before, wasn't that defeating the whole point of Samwell? Maybe he was tired of just blending and wanted to see what happened when he stopped.

And the Samwell Hockey team was probably the safest place to do that.

So he went to the movie night.

When he got there, there was a movie already playing, and Holster, Wicks, and Nguyen were all dancing and belting out 'NO LIFE! WITHOUT WIFE! Oh yeah yeah yeah ye-aahhhh!' along with the musical number that was happening on the screen.

"Oh, hey, Whiskey," Tango said, popping out of the kitchen. "I didn't know you were planning on coming. Did you want some popcorn? Have you voted on what movie you want to see next? Did you want some cookies? Did you hear that Jack Zimmermann might be at the next kegster? Have you finished our calc problems yet? What did you get for number eighteen?"

Bitty called out "is that Whiskey I see?" before he could even try to answer any of Tango's questions.

Whiskey stepped into the kitchen and awkwardly waved.

Bitty beamed at him. "Well, how delightful to see you! I'm so glad you could make it. Snickerdoodle?" He held out a warm cookie while Dex checked the batch in the oven. "Now, I don't think I've seen you at one of our movie nights before; do you know how it works?"

Mutely, Whiskey shook his head and took a small bite of his cookie.

"That's all right. Tango, would you be a dear and show Whiskey the ropes? The next batch of cookies should be done by then." The short boy smiled brightly before returning to his baking.

Tango appeared surprised for a moment that anyone would trust him to explain anything and then he smiled, pleased and maybe a bit shy.

Whiskey followed his teammate over to the whiteboard where one could suggest movies to watch and vote for ones that had already been suggested. If a movie had a line through it, it had already been watched or was in the process of showing.

Tango actually looked sad when Connor didn't have any questions for him, so he tried to think of one. "Have you suggested a movie?" He finally came up with.

The other freshman brightened up immediately. "I did last time, but only two other people voted for it."

"Oh. That's too bad."

"It's okay," Tango shrugged. "Somebody else had wanted The Princess Bride and then Ollie and Wicks re-enacted that fencing scene, and Wags and Mitty did the wrestling scene, until Bitty put a stop to it. It was 'swawesome."

"Okay."

Tango beamed at him. "Wanna go see if those cookies are done?"

"Yeah, okay."

At some point, Connor found himself sandwiched between a softly snoring Tango and a warm Dex with a large bowl of popcorn on his lap on the dilapidated green couch (much to Bitty's utter disgust). Nursey's hand kept brushing his shoulder because he had it draped over the back of the couch behind Dex while Kronk made spinach puffs on the television screen. It was strangely comfortable.

Then Tango tipped over on to Connor's shoulder and Dex reached up and ruffled his hair before stealing the popcorn bowl from him, and Connor was suddenly struck with the thought this is what people mean when they say 'I belong' because he'd been part of a team before, but he had never felt like this, like there was a place for him and that people wanted him there for more than his athletic abilities.

For the first time in his life, he knew he had no idea about what he was going to become, but he wasn't scared of finding out.

x Fin x