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Anonymous asked: OKAY PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE in one of the junior year blog posts N talked about an AU where jack gets a concussion (in the NHL) and he forgets how to speak English but I haven't seen it written anywhere could you possibly do this + zimbits (like worried!Bitty rushes down and has to deal with suddenly French!Jack) thank you so much for your wonderful blog
When Eric Bittle saw the check on TV, he swore he could feel Jack’s pain. It was a dirty hit, in which Jack’s head collided with the metal end of the board, causing him to lose his helmet and hit the ice, hard.
It was a miracle that he only had a concussion and not a fractured skull.
Unfortunately, he couldn’t speak English.
The doctor's said he'd remember how to when the heavy side-effects of the concussion wore off. Until then, he could only speak Quebecquoi.
Bitty found this both entertaining and frustrating as he tended to his boyfriend for the weekend.
“…Mal à la tête” Jack grumbled, sitting on the edge of the bed, placing his hands on the hips of the man in front of him. The bedroom had all the curtains drawn to avoid eye strain, bathing the white walls a dark blue.
Bitty placed his hand on Jack’s back, in an attempt to console him, peeling on hand from his hips, and placing two prescribed tylenol pills in Jack's palm. “I don’t know what that means, honey, but its time to take your painkillers.”
Jack did as he was told and emptied his glass of water. He wound his arms around Bitty’s waist, gently snuggling his pounding head into the man’s body.
“Je t’aime,” Jack pulled Bitty closer, in an attempt to drag him into bed, but he didn’t budge. Instead, Eric stroked Jack’s hair.
“I love you too, Jack.”
“Je suis désolé j'oublie Anglais.” His words were slightly muffled into the abdomen of the baker.
“Hey, I know what désolé means and you have nothing to be sorry for, Mister.”
“Je t’aime.” Jack said softer.
“I love you, too.” Eric gave up and let Jack drag him down.
They both repeated their declarations of love until they both feel asleep.
When Eric woke up the next morning, Jack's arms were still around his waist and his hands were still in Jack's hair.
He reached over to the bedside stand and grabbed his phone. Quickly, but quietly, he snapped a quick picture of them in bed, texted his ideal caption to the PR and within the minute posted it on twitter with approval.
"10:38am
@omgcheckplease: taking care of everyone's favourite forward! Something tells me we wont have morning runs for awhile :)"