Binding 13

67

Plan B

Joh

Everything hurt.

My balls.

My legs.

My dick.

My head.

I felt like I had been mowed over by a freight train.

There was pressure on my chest.

Something wasn’t right.

And I could smell coconuts?

And then I remembered.

It was over.

All my hard work.

All the years of relentless, grueling training sessions had been for nothing.

Because my body quit on me.

And now I was broken.

Jerking awake, I snapped my eyes open, feeling panicked and close to the edge of a nervous breakdown.

For a few moments, I stared at the ceiling, just absorbing the devastation washing through my heart like a tidal wave of destruction.

Inhaling several deep breaths, I moved to sit up, only to flop back down when I noticed the small frame curled up on the bed beside me.

Holy shit.

"Sha

"Hmm?"

"Sha

Yawning quietly, she crept out from where she had been nestled in the crook of my arm.

"You're awake," she said, smiling down at me.

I nodded warily.

"You remember where you are?"

I nodded again.

"Do you remember the match?"

"I remember why I'm here," I croaked out, feeling dry-mouthed and hoarse. "I don’t remember why you're here."

Sha

"You wanted me to stay with you," she explained in a quiet tone, clasping her hands together.

I frowned. "I did?"

I couldn't remember.

It was a haze.

Sha

"How long?" I interrupted her by asking.

I was feeling too damn desperate to listen to rambling.

Sha

"How long am I out?" I bit out.

She checked her watch. "It's 11:45, so close to six hours."

"No." I shook my head and expelled a frustrated growl. "How long am I out?"

She shook her head. "I don’t understand."

"How long am I out on injury!" I hissed, clenching the bedsheets as devastation checked into my heartbreak hotel.

"Joh

"It matters, Sha

She just stared at me with those big eyes full of fear, and concern, and sympathy.

I couldn't deal.

Not right now.

I didn’t want her to see me break down.

I couldn’t cope with that.

"Can you pass me that, please?" I pointed to the chart hanging off the foot of my bed. "I need to see."

She worried her lip, glancing at my chart nervously. "Joh

"I need to see the fucking chart," I choked out. "I need to see for myself."

Sha

"Please." I exhaled a heavy sigh. "Pass me the chart."

Without another word, she handed me the clipboard.

"Thank you."

She dropped her head and sniffled.

Fuck.

Fuck!

"Can you go find my Da?" I asked, desperately trying to wrangle in my emotions.

She looked up at me all lonesome and hurt. "If that's what you want?"

I bit back a groan and nodded. "That's what I want."

"W-what about your Mam?"

"No, just my Da," I warned her. "Only my Da."

"Uh, okay," Sha

I held my breath, desperate not to break down in front of her.

"I'll go?" she said, but it was more of a question.

I nodded stiffly, resisting the urge to beg her to stay and hold me and make promises neither of us could keep.

She couldn’t fix this for me, and I was terrified of losing more than I already had.

I knew she was fragile and I didn’t want to scare her away. If she stayed in this room, that's exactly what I was going to end up doing.

If I did that – if she saw the ugly side of me, the weakness in me – I would lose her, too.

I couldn’t lose her, too.

With a hammering heart, I watched her open the door and pause in the doorway.

"Bye Joh

I swallowed deeply before strangling out the words, "Bye, Sha

I waited until the door closed behind her before ripping the covers off my body to check the damage.

Jesus Christ.

Dropping my head back on my pillow, I bit down on my fist and smothered my cry.

When my Dad walked into the room thirty minutes later, he was alone.

"Morning, Stud," he said with a smirk.

"Da," I choked out, tears streaming down my cheeks.

The minute Dad saw my expression, his smirk fell.

Placing his plastic cup on my nightstand, he sank down on the edge of my bed and pulled me into his arms.

"Joh

And it was right there that I cried like a fucking child on my father's shoulder.

"What am I looking at?" I choked out when words found me.

"Six weeks minimum," he told me with that honesty I respected him for.

"Dad, it's gone." I shook my head and resisted the urge to roar. "The summer campaign…The u20's…it's over for me!"

"Not gone," he assured me. "Slim, but not impossible."

"Slim," I strangled out, feeling my heart beat so hard I thought it might stop altogether. "Fuck."

"Don’t you forget who you are." He stood up then and helped me to sit at the edge of my bed. "You are my son," he added, lowering my feet to the floor. "And you are a fighter."

I dropped my head. "I don’t fucking feel like a fighter.”

"You've been a fighter since the day you were born," he corrected, tipping my chin back up, and forcing me to meet his blue-eyed gaze. "You've never let a thing get in the way of your goals, and you sure as hell are not going to let six weeks stop you."

"And if I don’t make it?" I choked out, voicing my biggest fear. "If I'm not fit by then?"

"Then you don’t make it," he replied simply.

I shook my head and released a pained sob. "Da, I can't cope –"

"If you do not make it this summer then you do not make it this summer," he repeated. "You are still Joh

For the millionth time in my life, I found myself looking up at the man that raised me and thinking: will I ever be as strong as you?

I watched my father as he pulled over a chair and set it down in front of me.

"Now," he said as he sat down and loosened his tie. "Let's get real, son."

Oh shit.

"Real?" I croaked out.

Dad nodded. "Say you don’t make it onto the u20's in June –

"Da, I can't–"

"Hear me out," he said calmly.

Glumly, I nodded.

"Say you don’t make it in June," Dad continued to say, voicing my worst nightmare out loud. "It's devastating. Your mother and I understand. You might not think we do, but we brought you into this world, and every single, painful moment in your life that you endure, and every obstacle you stumble over, we're there, Joh