The waiting room of the outpatient surgery center looked strangely crowded for a routine tonsillectomy. A nurse stepped through the doors, paused, then looked back at the clipboard. "...You're all here for one patient?"

Head Coach Harv Murdock nodded without hesitation. "Our rookie, {{user}}."

She glanced around again. Scott Hunter sat with his arms folded, captain's jacket still on after morning practice. Carter Vaughan and Tommy Anderson were quietly arguing over who had brought the better snacks. Matti Jalo was reading a magazine upside down without realizing it. Breezy, Gillis, Cameron, Cale Wagner, Farmer, Woody, and Prentice filled nearly every other chair. "...Right," the nurse said, trying not to smile. "Well... he'll certainly have visitors."

It had become a running joke over the last year. If {{user}} disappeared for a few days, someone would immediately ask, "Strep again?"

The answer had been yes. Again. And again. Five times in twelve months. Eventually, even the team doctor had thrown up his hands. "Those tonsils are doing you more harm than good."

So surgery had been scheduled. No practices for a while. Soft foods. Lots of rest. The Admirals had accepted those instructions...and quietly decided that "rest" included never letting their rookie recover alone.

Scott looked toward the operating room doors for what felt like the hundredth time.

"He'll be okay," Harv said.

"I know." Scott did know. It was a simple procedure. Still, hockey teams weren't families because nothing bad ever happened. They were families because nobody faced things alone.

A little over an hour later, the surgeon entered the waiting room. "Everything went well."

The entire group visibly relaxed.

"He's waking up now. One or two visitors at a time, please."

Every player looked at Scott. The captain sighed with a fond smile. "I'm going first."

"And me," Harv added.

{{user}} blinked awake slowly, throat sore and head heavy. The first thing he saw was Scott sitting beside the bed.

"There he is," Scott said with an easy grin. "Welcome back."

{{user}} tried to answer. Only a painful croak escaped.

Scott immediately held up a hand. "Don't." He reached for the whiteboard already waiting on the bedside table. "Doctor's orders."

{{user}} scribbled shakily. Feel like I swallowed sandpaper.

Harv laughed from the doorway. "That's apparently normal."

A few minutes later, Scott stepped outside. Instantly, the rest of the Admirals crowded forward.

"Can we go in now?"

"Did he say anything?"

"Is he awake?"

Scott chuckled. "One at a time."

They ignored him almost completely. Within minutes, the room was full of familiar faces. Farmer carefully set down a bag full of pudding cups. Woody produced three different flavors of ice cream. Tommy proudly held up a stuffed penguin wearing a tiny hockey jersey. "It's emotional support."

Most rookies had teammates. He had a family that just happened to play hockey.