Author's Note: My first Cam fic and my first Dallas fic. Hope I wrote them well. Also, as we all know by now, I do not own Degrassi. Hope you enjoy! Takes place after the Jatie kiss in (what I believe is) tonight's episode.


"Hey, are you okay?" Cam asked, apprehensively. He had never seen Mike Dallas look so upset. He was slumped on one of the benches in the locker room, and his head had been cradled in his hands. Apparently, he didn't realize that he had company; and he looked up surprised to see Cam leaning against the red aluminum lockers across from him.

"What do you want?" Mike spat out the question as if it were a bad taste in his mouth, "You aren't playing on the team right now. You shouldn't be in here."

"I am still on the team though," Cam reminded him, "I can be in this locker room same as you."

Dallas squinted at him, surprised that he had stood up to him, "I'm fine," he finally answered, "Wish I could say the same for you," Dallas nodded at the cast on Cam's arm. Cam blushed, and Dallas said, "I know what you did."

"You do?" Cam's eyes turned to saucers before he stutteringly said, "You…you aren't going to tell the guys, are you?" Mortification crossed his face and the irises of his eyes swam back and forth anxiously.

Something unfamiliar crossed Dallas' face and he said, "You really think I'm going to tell the guys?"

"Something new to rag on me about," Cam stared down at his scuffy sneakers, "Look at the newbie – so scared of his own success that he the fucking loser has to jump off the balcony and hurt himself."

"Hey, language!" Dallas glared at him, "We have a reputation to upkeep. Especially you, newbie. People look up to you; you can't go swearing like that. Coach will kick your butt if you do."

Cam was surprised, but come to think of it, he had never heard Dallas curse before, "So are you going to tell them?" Cam asked again, nervously.

"Kid, you don't know me all that well, do you?" Dallas squinted at Cam again.

"No, I guess not," Cam admitted bashfully.

"Sit," Dallas nodded towards the bench, "You and I need to have a talk."

Cam, fidgeting uncertainly, sat down next to Dallas who said, "You're the newbie. We have a duty to rag on you, alright? It happens to the best of us. You're proving yourself, and once you show us how great I know you can be, the guys will leave you alone."

"You think?"

"I know. It happens, kid. You're new; you've got to give your dues. You're the youngest one on this team. The guys…they don't know what you're capable of. At that last game, you showed us a peek of what you're capable of. If you can keep those plays up like you did, you'll have their respect. And I am not going to tell them. This is your business."


"I knew right away what you did. I didn't say anything around your puck bunny…" Cam glared at him, and Dallas cleared his throat and corrected himself, "Uh…I mean…girlfriend. I didn't say anything around her because this is your deal, and this is your business. I wanted to say something to you, but privately. Between hockey brothers. Got it? It's your deal, not anyone else's; but as your captain, I need to say something."

Cam blushed with mortification and embarrassment at what he had done; Dallas continued, "You're scared, and I get that. You're not the only one that's far away from family and stuff, but you're the youngest. We haven't made this whole thing easy on you. We're going to rag on you, newbie, but we're your brothers. We're supposed to look out for you. Which means, when something's eating at you, we got to be there for you."

"Thank you," Cam said genuinely, "I just…I freak myself out. I don't know why I feel this way. I just…I can't handle it. I can't handle the attention and the people…I just…I can't."

"I get it," Dallas nodded empathetically, "Some people just have anxiety. It's nothing to be ashamed of."

"It's not?" Cam's brow furrowed with puzzlement.

"Nah, newbie. It just means your human."

"You don't get anxious."

"You kidding?" Dallas chuckled, "Of course I get anxious. Before I step on that ice, I swear I feel like I'm going to puke each time. But I work past that. I've got people out there counting on me. I put them first, and push my nerves to the back. When I'm out there on that ice, I don't think about me. I think about those people shouting and cheering. I think about coach, and I think about all of you out there counting on me to play my best. I ignore me throughout the whole game. After the game, I can focus on me. But on that ice – out there – it's not about me."

"I just don't know how to do that," Cam shook his head, "I feel like I'm drowning."

"That puck – uh – girlfriend of yours. Focus on her. Play for her. Ignore everyone else, even us. Just play like she's the only one that matters. Make her your focus."

"Shouldn't the game be my focus?"

"Yeah, but with you, it's different. You psych yourself out when you think about the game too much, and the crowd, and us. Think about Maya. Push everything else to the back; you'll be fine."

"Thanks, Dallas."

"That's what I'm here for, newbie."

"That was a witch move that Katie pulled," Cam said, a little apprehensive of Dallas' reaction to his statement.

"Yeah well, what can you do?" Dallas shrugged, "That's what I get for going after the Lisbeth Salander types. There'll be other puck bunnies for me though. I'm Mike Dallas, after all."

Cam rolled his eyes before asking, "You sure you're alright?"

"Yeah," Dallas nodded, "What about you? You okay?"

"I think I will be," Cam nodded genuinely, "Thanks for this."

Dallas shrugged, "S'nothing. It's my job to watch out for you."

"I appreciate that."

"Now, don't go thinking this means that when you can skate again, I'm not going to run your butt into the ground with drills for being a jackass and jumping off that ledge," Dallas raised an eyebrow.

Cam smiled, "Wouldn't expect anything less."

Author's Note: did I do?