Chapter Fourteen: The Reasons Why

****Trev****

I couldn’t remember ever being in that much pain. My chest and the back of my head ached from the hit but that wasn’t anything compared to my neck. The insane pain was enough to tell me that there wasn’t going to be an easy fix for whatever was wrong, but as I laid there the next morning with Pam I told myself that the worst I was probably looking at was having surgery.

All I wanted was for someone to give me answers and tell me how I could fix it. I thought that might happen when the whoosh of the door hinted that someone was coming in the room, but the small footsteps on the linoleum floor told me I was in for another round with my nurse. 

“Good morning.” She chipperly smiled down at me and I grunted, waking Pam up. “Glad to see you’re in a better mood.” She grinned, completely ignoring my scowl and checked my IV. I’d run out of pain medicine about an hour before but hadn’t pushed the button for more and after noticing it, she looked back down at me. 

“Do you want any more?” She dropped the happy nurse act and seemed genuinely concerned.

“No.” I firmly stated, but they looked at me like I was crazy.

“Are you sure?” Pam asked as she sat up and placed a hand on my arm.

“No.” I repeated and scowled at her. “I don’t like how it makes me feel.” I didn’t feel in control of myself with them and decided that normal  pain medicine would have to do; no matter how much it hurt. Pam nodded and after the nurse brought me something else, she stood up and walked over to my side of the bed.

“Do you remember what happened?” She whispered as her fingers brushed a strand of my hair off my forehead.


“I remember getting hit, nothing after that until seeing you walk through that door,” I pointed to the one that everyone kept going out of, “and then it’s blank again until I woke up earlier in pain.” I knew that there was a lot more in between and it looked like she was about to fill me in when there was a knock on the door.

My stomach dropped as my eyes followed a doctor, Randy (one of the Buck’s trainers), Coach, and Jimmy. Seeing the last two removed any doubt about it being bad but even more telling was the fact that they wouldn’t look at me as they walked to other side of the room.

“Mr. Davila, I’m Dr. Fraser.” The doctor started after Pam helped me adjust the bed and pillows so I could sit up. It took a ton out of me to move and his forehead wrinkled with worry. “Are you sure you wouldn’t like something else for the pain.”

I gave him a look that left little doubt about my determination to not change my mind and he nodded. “We’ve taken a look at the x-rays that we took last night. . .”

“Perhaps we should discuss this in private.” Jimmy interrupted and motioned to Pam. Her weight shifted to the foot closer to the door, like she was getting ready to take Jimmy’s hint about leaving and I grabbed her hand.

“She stays. Anything you want to say to me, you say it in front of her.” My eyes darted sideways at her, worried for a moment that she’d be upset that in one fell swoop I’d outed our relationship to everyone in the room. She gave me a small smile and placed her other hand over mine. Knowing we were on the same page, I turned my attention back to them.

Chapter Thirteen: The Moment the World Stopped Moving

****Pamela****

Maybe my hatred of winter comes from the fact that I’ve spent years standing and sitting on sidelines in freezing weather.  It seemed a real possibility as I stood on the field watching the Bucks and Panthers play in the Conference Championship. 

From childhood, I’d gone with Mom and my sisters to watch Dad coach games and while I loved seeing him and watching the players, there’d been many times that I wished that the stadiums were indoor, something that I found myself wishing for at that moment as a teeth chattering wind blew across the field.

I stuffed my hands even further in my pockets, hoping that it would help me find some warmth but deep down I knew it wouldn’t do any good. The cold had seeped into my bones and wouldn’t go away no matter how many cups of coffee or cocoa I drank or how many layers of clothes I wore.  

The fact that I couldn’t move around didn’t help much either and I felt a brief flash of envy as I watched the players on the field who I knew were warmer because they could. But any envy soon turned to sympathy as I witnessed Trev misread the Panthers’ defense, almost throwing an interception.  

No, I don’t really envy any of them. I thought to myself as I watched Trev and the others return to the sideline. Both teams were under a huge amount of pressure to win the game, but the Bucks felt it more so than the Panthers. They’d met two other times, once during preseason and again during regular season with the Bucks losing both games. 


It was something that gnawed at Trev, and throughout the season he watched countless hours of video of the Panthers’ defense and offense, trying to get an advantage on them. He wholeheartedly believed in the team’s motto, We don’t win or lose games by what one person does, we win or lose as a team, but he also believed that each player was accountable for their performance on and off the field and I knew he would beat himself up about his mistake.

The roar of another cutting wind blew over the field, adding to the already deafening noise level of the crowd and players, which was why the sound of a single voice cutting through the thickness of all others astonished me.  “God damnit!! What the fuck was that?” The sound of Trev’s frustrations caught mine and several other reporter’s attention.

“Trev, chill! We’ll get them next time.” Tiny tried to reason with, him but it was no use. Once Trev made a mistake no one could convince him otherwise. He wouldn’t “chill” but would go over and over his mistake, figuring out a way to fix it, and then make sure it never happened again, willing himself to perfection. 

Chapter Twelve: Things Happen When They're Supposed To - Part One

****Pamela****

He turned the wrapped present around in his hands, inspecting certain spots more than others, like he was trying to find a hole that would reveal a clue about what laid underneath the shiny, red paper. My wrapping skills were legendary. I could wrap any shape or size and was an expert at taping all gaps, making it almost impossible for anyone to open.

“Give it up, Trev. You’ll never figure it out until you open it.” Dad tried to convince him and Trev first looked up at him and then glanced at me. His raised eyebrow asked me if I’d give him any hints but I smiled and shrugged back, refusing to give in. It seemed so fitting that he’d approach opening presents like an excited child and as he began trying to find a corner or edge to rip, we all started to laugh at his theatrics.

The smirk that appeared on his lips gave away that he somehow found a place to begin ripping and I held my breath as more and more of his present was revealed. I thought my heart might explode from the anticipation when he released the last of the tape from the paper and bit my lip as his hand started to pull it back to see. . .

The images were instantly gone and I felt my heart sink as I realized that I’d woken up, again. Every single time, something would wake me up before I could witness his reaction and I wondered what the culprit was that morning.   

Chapter Seven: It Still Hurts - Part One

This chapter can be read on it's own, or can be read with George's chapter which can be found here. It's the one time that the two stories have chapters for the same event so it just made sense to me to publish them at the same time. While the event is the same, their reactions and experiences are different and I think each chapter shows just how different George and Trev are by revealing what each chose to center their thoughts and attention on.

And I'll just go ahead and say that due to one picture, this may be NSFW. What can I say? I couldn't resist taking a pic of Trev in the shower. . .lol! 

And it is part one of two, which I'm in the process of editing. Hopefully soon. . .

Hope you enjoy it! Thanks so much for reading!

****Pam****

I sat in the press room after the next game and barely noticed the loud people around me. My mind was too occupied with what happened since the last game and by the fact that I was still fighting with myself over what I felt. Trev, Paisley and I went out for dinner and he continued to wonder if I was okay, something that Paisley picked up on and I could tell she was more than a little curious by it.  I spent the whole dinner fighting with myself; he would tease me or throw a sarcastic comment my direction and I would return the favor, but then I would try to remind myself that I was silly for letting it get my hopes up. Any reasoning was dashed away though when as we left and said goodbye, I felt his hand on my back as I got in my car and I was again confused by what it meant. Was it just a friendly gesture or something more?

I sighed and Victor looked at me. "What's up with you?"

I shrugged. "Just tired tonight." I lied and was grateful that he didn't press me for anymore answers. The sound of the doors opening alerted the room that someone was coming in to answer questions and I felt my heart beat faster as I saw Trev walk up to the table. But it immediately slowed and sank as I saw his face. He should have been all smiles since they had just won against one of the best teams in the league, but he was more than a little subdued and I wasn't the only one who noticed.

"Maybe he drank the same sad juice you did." Victor kidded and I kept watching Trev. He smiled, albeit not the blinding smile most were used to seeing, he was still thoughtful, but what was the most telling was that he didn't crack a single joke during the whole time he sat and answered questions. It was concerning enough that I didn't ask any and instead sat there wondering what could be troubling him so much. Was the pressure of his recovery and career becoming too much? Was there something else?

He left as quietly as he entered and I couldn't think of much else but his demeanor as Coach White answered questions. I sat there half listening to him and the others that sat at the table after him, and when the last player finished, I quickly grabbed my things and headed out to the parking lot. With the way he was acting I wondered if his car would still be there, and when I saw it sitting exactly three spots over from mine, like it had for the last three months, I let out a sigh of relief.

I was earlier than normal since I rushed out of the press room, and after placing my bag in the backseat, I leaned against my car and looked up at the moonlit sky. It did little to distract me though from feeling the worry that started when I saw him enter the pressroom; and eventually I gave up concentrating on the clouds and instead replayed every moment of the press conference. His subdued facial expressions, the lack of a smirk or blinding smile, his quiet demeanor. . .

"Aren't you cold?" He whispered as he stopped next to me and leaned against the car. The suddenness of his voice made me jump a little and conflicting feelings started to swirl around inside me. Excitement that even in his saddened state he stopped to talk to me, disgust at the fact that in my excitement I forgot about his sadness and I began to chastise myself for it. The last feeling, distress over his behavior, was what made me regain some of my wits and helped me push all other thoughts aside.

"A little." I admitted and looked over at him. His eyes were focused on the sky which gave me a moment to look at his face undetected. At that close distance there was no denying the sad expression that touched every inch of it and as he lowered his head and looked at me, I saw it in his eyes too.

"You didn't ask a question tonight." He tried to joke and while I was somewhat relieved that he did, I knew what he was trying to do. He was attempting to hide behind his quick wit, and while that might have worked in previous years, it didn't then.

"I have one now." I offered and I felt a small sense of relief when a half smile appeared on his lips.