Patrick answers his phone by reflex, but he can't pry open his eyes, so he has no idea who he's talking to. Or not talking, exactly, because all he can manage is a sort of groan. OR: the one where Tazer and Kaner have a baby via Stanley Cup

Call it a clan, call it a network, call it a tribe, call it a family. Whatever you call it, whoever you are, you need one. ~Jane Howard

“So you were already with the boy you saved when the fire started?” Patrick pauses, but shakes his head. “No, there was an explosion—I don’t really know what it was, but then it was just me and Tigre, and it’s like, in a situation like that, you don’t really think? You just do. So I grabbed the kid and went through the fire escape. It’s not like I decided I wanted to save anybody, it was just the only option.”

Kaner's looking down at the kid, though, frowning. He crouches down. "Hey, kid, where are your parents?" The kid's bottom lip juts out and starts wobbling. Fuck, that means he's going to start crying, right? "Oh shi—oot, kid, don't cry," Kaner says. "I mean, if you don't know where they are, we can find 'em?" "Kaner," Sharpy presses. "That's Saad."

There's a lot of different ways this summary could go, like: Patrick Kane gets more than a gold medal in Sochi. Or, the classic: It's too late to pull out now. Or: Patrick Kane continues to thrive in high pressure situations. Or: Patrick Kane gets knocked up, goes to White Castle, and finds love, not necessarily in that order. But, ultimately, all that really matters is this: Patrick Kane is keeping his baby.

“Patrick,” Jonny cuts in. He’s breathing too hard. “You’re not supposed to touch me because I hurt people. My touch. It hurts people.” “Well, you didn’t hurt me,” Patrick says, flopping onto the bed.