Chapter Text
Adam hates New York City.
He’s heard that isn’t a particularly original thought, but the Rangers seem to like it. Dom likes it. Larsson liked New York, so much so that Adam was surprised he didn’t stay after his retirement. Maybe he couldn’t. Maybe he missed home more than he ever indicated. Not that they talked about that. Or anything, much. Not that Adam really knew him.
The Rangers exit the playoffs in the first round, and the idea of doing it again, another year of this, trying and failing with the same group, just shuffled a little every season, the same disappointed faces, the same mistakes, makes him feel sick to his stomach.
He wants to go home, he thinks, though he’s not sure where that even is. Not Dauphin. Not Saskatoon, or Boston, or Oakland, or Pittsburgh. He’s lived so many places, but none of them felt right, none of them felt like what people say when they talk about the feeling home gives them. He’s pretty sure he’s never felt that in his life.
Maybe Dauphin would feel that way if his mom was still there, but she isn’t. Dana’s in Winnipeg, but Winnipeg’s always been a city he visited, never really a place for him to live. He’s lived a lot of places, but none of them have ever felt like a place to live.
A week after their season ends, Dom has an exit interview with him. He always does that, did it when Adam was playing, does it with the Rangers, does it with his staff. With the players, Adam knows from experience, it’s just a five minute chat, checking what page they’re on. With Adam now, it’s dinner, drinks at the bar, not Dom asking questions so much as just waiting for Adam to talk.
He’s had a few drinks too many, he guesses, because he ends up telling Dom about home. Not home. The idea of home, he guesses. He tells Dom a lot of things he doesn’t mean to. He doesn’t know why.
“My cousin coaches the Wheat Kings,” Dom says, like that isn’t something Adam’s already aware of, then, “He won’t have his right hand man next season, guy got a head coach offer from the Raiders.”
“At least he has the offseason to find someone?” Adam says.
“I’m telling you there’s an assistant coach position available,” Dom says. “If you wanted to go back to Manitoba. Doesn’t pay as well, obviously, but I know you’re not doing this for the money.”
“Are you firing me?” Adam asks.
“No,” Dom says. “Fuck, you always — I’m not firing you, I’m telling you if that’s what you want, he’d be elated to have you.”
“I work for you,” Adam says. “You hired me.”
“You’re not happy here, Adam,” Dom says. “You’ve never been happy here. I don’t want you sticking around because you think you owe it to me.”
“It’s not that,” Adam says.
“What is it then?” Dom asks, and Adam shrugs. It’s not owing him anything, though Adam does owe him. Adam owes him a lot. That’s not why he took the job. It’s not why he stays, either, he doesn’t think, except when Dom puts it like that, maybe it is.
“I don’t know how to coach teenagers,” Adam says.
“Like our guys are so grown up?” Dom asks.
Some are. There are guys close to Adam’s age, more grown up than him when it comes down to it; guys with mortgages, wives, children. Some, fresh out of college, or Juniors, probably aren’t all that different from those kids in Brandon.
Adam shrugs again.
“What do you want here?” Dom says. “If you want to go, I’m not going to take it personally. You want to stay, I’m happy to have you, but you need to actually tell me what you want, because I don’t want you coming back next year miserable.”
“I’m not miserable,” Adam says.
“Adam,” Dom says, sounding frustrated. Dom’s more patient than anyone Adam’s ever met. It’s hard to frustrate him, but Adam always seems to manage it.
Adam wants to go home, and Brandon isn’t it, but it’s closer than New York is. How he knows that, he doesn’t know, but.
“I can give Warren a call,” Dom says, like he can see the answer on Adam’s face. “Let him know you’re interested.”
“Okay,” Adam says.
“Yeah?” Dom asks.
“Yeah,” Adam says. “Okay.”