Chapter Text
Jean frowned down at his phone. He hadn't sent anything yet, but he was staring down Neil's name in his contacts. He needed to do this. He didn't want to. It was irresponsible of him to put it off for this long. He glanced over at Jeremy from his end of the couch—he'd moved over after his nap so Jean could stretch out, and they could each put homework on the cushion between them. Jean had given up on his homework almost immediately, and he could tell Jeremy was only half focused too, but he didn't say anything.
He typed for a moment, then deleted. This cycle went on for a few minutes until he finally decided on something.
Jean: All that is required of me is that I play?
He didn't expect a response right away, surely Neil had something else to do, but a response came fairly quickly.
Neil: yes
Neil: why
This was the hard part. After years where showing weakness would get him hurt or humiliated, admitting it here felt impossible. Asking for this felt like admitting weakness, admitting fear. But he had to. He had to know what was coming.
Jean: As long as I get signed, nothing else will matter?
Neil: yes Jean. what is going on?
Jean: I was injured. I will be back on the court after winter break
Neil wasn't one for softness or sentimentality. Jean didn't expect any condolences from him and he was sure Neil knew him well enough to know that he didn't want that. They had held each other together in some of their worst moments while they were both in the Nest, but they weren't friends. His connection to Neil could have been either fate or chance, but it certainly wasn't choice.
Neil: You'd better, I want to play you in finals this year.
Neil: But as far as He is concerned, it doesn't matter what you do as long as you are able to secure a lucrative contract. Which you will.
Jean nodded down at his phone, a pointless gesture when he could not be seen, but it felt reassuring to him. A part of him had already known this, but it felt good to hear it from someone who actually knew what they were talking about. Still, there was one unsettled knot in his stomach left. He looked over to Jeremy, playing on his own phone, then back down at the texts.
Jean: And you are so sure of his apathy that you would risk your wretched goalkeeper?
They'd been over this, during Neil's so-called visit over the summer. Jean had a good idea what he was going to say, but he needed it to said regardless.
Neil: It is better to have something to lose.
Jean bit his lip. How much did he have to lose to these people? How much more did he have to put on the line?
Neil: I spent my life afraid and I don't want to live that way anymore. If I don't let myself have what I want because I'm afraid that they'll take it from me, then they've already taken it.
Jean stared down at his phone for a long moment, taking that in. He couldn't help but think of Cat's words to Laila. “If you don’t want something enough to fight for it, you don’t deserve to have it," she'd said. "You are worth the risk." Was having Jeremy worth the risk of losing him? Did Jean want him enough to stare down his fear? His want was getting harder and harder to deny.
He didn't realize he was scowling, but Jeremy seemed to. "You okay?"
He wasn't, and a part of him wondered what made it so obvious. How easy was it, exactly, for Jeremy to see through him? "Neil is a frustrating cretin." It was true, and Jean would be fine.
"Is he part of all this?" Jeremy asked cautiously.
"Yes." Jean nodded. "He made the deal when…" he was sure the apartment wasn't bugged, they'd checked, but it still felt risky to say out loud. "He proved that the three of us were worth keeping alive, even after the Nest's downfall." He didn't look at Jeremy, unsure how he would react and unwilling to find out. Would he even want to be with someone who wasn't his own?
"You, Neil…and Kevin," he concluded. Jean nodded again.
"Keep pretending you do not know." Jean was sure it would be safer that way. He knew Jeremy wouldn't like it, but it was what had to be done. "Please."
"If that's what you want," Jeremy said in resignation.
What Jean wanted was for all of them to stay alive, so he agreed. He opted to replace one uncomfortable conversation with another and looked back at his phone.
Jean: Kevin does not know yet. Coach Rhemann will be putting out a statement about benching me.
Neil: oh Kevin's gonna freak lol
Neil: do you want me to handle it?
The idea of Kevin panicking wasn't foreign. He'd seen Kevin in August and seen how he'd clutched the bottle of vodka like a rope thrown to a man drowning at sea. It still felt strange to consider himself the object of Kevin's concern though. It was messy. There was a reason Jean tried not to talk to him directly when it could be avoided. There was too much there.
Jean: Not if your idea of handing it is letting him drink himself to death
Neil: Noted
Neil: I'll talk to him when we practice tonight. He'll be fine.
Jean trusted Neil to know and manage Kevin's moods better than himself at this point. That, and he really didn't want to.
Jean: Fine
Neil: Speaking of, my "wretched goalkeeper" isn't buying cigarettes anymore, do you happen to know anything about that?
Neil was vague and hard to read at the best times. It was impossible over text. But whatever his goal here was, be it appreciation or admonishment, Jean wanted no part of it.
Jean: What brisket lung does is none of my business
With that, he shut his phone. He had half a mind to throw it across the room, but he knew that would just be forcing Jeremy to retrieve it for him. It wasn't Jeremy's fault that Neil was annoying.
His restraint paid off about half an hour later when his phone rang. A glance down at his phone revealed the caller to be Rhemann, and Jean couldn't help the anxiety that pooled in his stomach.
"Coach," Jean greeted. Jeremy must have heard the tension in his voice, because he turned to watch the conversation. A cursory glance at the clock told him that practice started around half an hour ago and Jean tensed further. The fact that Rhemann was wasting practice time to talk to him felt unforgivable unless there was a bigger problem.
"Jean," Rhemann said too cheerfully for Jean to believe that there was a problem. At least not anything new. "Good to hear from you. I didn't wake you, did I?"
Jean blinked. It was hard to know how to react to this when he didn't know what Rhemann wanted from him. This had to be more than a courtesy call, didn't it? "No," he answered. "I have been awake for awhile." He'd woken up on Jeremy's shoulder almost an hour ago. He'd almost jolted upright and apologized for invading Jeremy's space so rudely, but he'd noticed that Jeremy was asleep as well. That made him relax a bit and—admittedly—stay on his shoulder for a few minutes. He'd moved at the first sign of Jeremy stirring.
"Did you need something?" Jean realized too late it was a rude question. It wasn't his place to rush the conversation. He'd accidentally implied he didn't want to talk to his coach. There was truth to that, but it was a thought better left unspoken.
"I'm just checking in. How are you doing?"
"I am okay, Coach." The answer was automatic, reflexive, a lie so bold it was almost laughable. Rhemann didn't laugh, but he could hear a weary sigh on the other end of the line.
"Jean," he said carefully. "This process is only going to be more painful for everyone if you aren't honest." It felt like a threat, or maybe that was just what Jean was expecting. It was something the Master had said to him more than once. Just when Jean thought that Rhemann was finally letting the illusion slip, that he'd finally learned how to treat someone like Jean, he backtracked. "I don't like the way I said that. Let me try again." Rhemann took a breath.
"All of us are on your side," Rhemann tried. "Me, Jeremy, Cat and Laila, the nurses, the whole team. All of us want you to get better. Does that make sense?"
It didn't. Not when it felt like all the Ravens wanted him dead at times. But he couldn't say no to Rhemann now. "I understand." He looked over to Jeremy, but the man had stepped out at some point, giving him the privacy of the room.
"Part of getting better means not pushing yourself too hard or too soon. Healing means that you have to take care of yourself and let other people take care of you too. And that means being honest when people ask how you are. I'm not saying you have to tell everyone everything, but you aren't helping anyone by pretending you're fine. You're hurting yourself. Got it?"
It was dizzying. None of this had ever been expected of him. It had always been get up as soon as you can, get back on the court. But if this was what it would take to be a Trojan, he would do it. "Coach I—" he swallowed hard. "It will be an adjustment."
"All I am asking is that you try." No one had ever expected less than perfection from him. But Jean was thankful for this break from it. "So let's try again. How are you doing?"
Jean chewed his lip as he thought about how to answer. If he was going to be honest, then he just had to do it. "It hurts, Coach." His voice was ragged as he said it. He sounded pathetic, weak, like a child. He hated it, but now that he'd started, he found it hard to stop. "I am exhausted and I am useless and I won't be able to do anything for weeks. I don't know if I can go through this again Coach." It was too much to say. Too much weakness to divulge. Surely, Rhemann had limits. Surely, he couldn't approve of Jean being this pathetic. He could tell based on the lengthy silence on the line.
"I'm sorry," Rhemann said, and if Jean had been standing, it would have knocked him off of his feet. There was nothing for Rhemann to apologize for. None of this was his fault or his problem. "I know it's awful. I can't imagine what you're going through. That's why I want to help. You don't have to do this alone Jean. We've got you." Jean was chewing on his lip, trying to keep himself together. "Will you let me help?"
"Yes Coach," Jean said, and he surprised himself by meaning it. He didn't think he had much alternative at this point. He couldn't see any other way through this.
"Thank you." It was still a surprise. He hadn't expected to be thanked for giving Rhemann more to worry about. "Jean, I think you should skip practice for the rest of the week."
"But Coach—"
"I know you don't want to hear it," Rhemann interrupted. "But hear me out. Think about the pain you are in now based on what you've done today. Now think about going down to Jeremy or Laila's car, riding to campus, getting into the stadium, and sitting through practice. Then you have to do all of that in reverse. Is that really something you want to do?"
Jean had gotten winded trying to get to the bathroom. Even the Master would have kept him bedridden in this condition. He didn't know if he was capable of what Rhemann was describing, hearing it laid out like that. He was just afraid of what would happen if he didn't. But he'd taken weeks off before, he'd been injured before, coming back was always an adjustment, but none of it stopped him from being the best. He wouldn't let this stop him.
"I will stay home," Jean conceded. But he could see it leading to a problem. "I do not want Jeremy to miss more practice." The idea of having Jeremy to himself for a week filled him with a sense of longing, but he ignored it.
"I hear you. That brings me to my next point. I talked to the team about what happened, told them you'd be out for a bit, they're all thinking about you. A few of them want to know if you're up for visitors. They could pop in during gaps in their schedule."
Visitors. Jean had to consider it. The thought of letting multiple people from the team see him in his weakness was nauseating, but the alternative of spending the week largely by himself in this apartment seemed maddening. His thoughts drifted to Renee at his bedside and her calming presence the last time his life was falling apart. He thought about Kevin, helping to patch him up after Riko took his knives to Jean's skin. It had been good, he thought, to have people around. "I think so. But I do not want them to miss practice either."
"Understood. I'll let Cat and Laila know so they can help manage the particulars." Rhemann paused, either considering something or giving Jean a moment to process. "What about Adi?"
"What about…" Jean repeated slowly while he was trying to figure out what Rhemann was asking him. Then he got it. "Coach I couldn't ask—"
"You're not asking," Rhemann interrupted. "I told him you were getting out today and he asked if he could see you. I told him I'd ask. He's already cooking for you, but if you don't want to deal with it, I can pass it off to Jeremy at practice tomorrow or just bring it by myself."
Jean had liked Adi's cooking. He had liked Adi. He didn't know what was being cooked that required this much being done now, but he didn't question it. He thought about asking what was being made, but if it was obviously coach-sanctioned if he had offered to deliver it. And Jean wouldn't be as much help in the kitchen for awhile, maybe it would help Cat take some of the burden off to have some food brought over. "He can come," Jean said.
"Great I'll let him know." Jean could practically hear Rhemann's smile. They would plan the details later. "Do you need anything else before I let you go?" He asked.
"No Coach," Jean said. "I have handled what I need to handle," he added, "so you can make your statement."
"Good to hear. I'll send over a copy before I send it out." With that, they exhanged goodbyes and hung up. It still felt ridiculously inappropriate and informal, but he would have to learn to live with it. He did not even hate it. It was better than the fear he had grown far too accustomed to.
"All good?" Jeremy asked, poking his head back into the room.
"Good," Jean answered. "But I am barred from practice for the week."
Jeremy hummed. "I thought that might happen. How are you feeling about it?" He moved his stuff over so he could sit next to Jean on the couch.
Jean frowned. "I don't know." He stared down at his hands in his lap. He still wasn't the best at expressing himself,—at letting himself feel anything, let alone sharing those feelings. "I have been off the court for extended periods before. Even before the spring." Jeremy gave him a solemn look at that, he hadn't talked about any of his past injuries before, and he didn't exactly want to now. "This feels different now. It feels like I just recovered from spring in some ways, and now I am hurt again. And I am on a new team and… And I do not want to let them down," he realized. "I do not want to let the team down, or the freshmen, or Coach Rhemann, or…" he looked up at Jeremy then quickly back away, not letting himself finish.
"You aren't," Jeremy said, but Jean wasn't sure how that could be true. "Jean, none of this is even your fault. How could any of us be disappointed in you?"
"You signed me so I could play and—"
"And you will," Jeremy said. "In time. The only way you could let us down is by choosing to give up. But I don't think you will." He couldn't imagine it. Jean had been through too much to give up here.
"I will not," Jean said. He wouldn't quit, even if he were allowed to.
It wasn't much longer before it was time for Jeremy to go. Practice was letting out, but he didn't have time to wait for Cat and Laila to get home. He stood reluctantly and packed his bag. It was then that Jean realized the second big problem with him not going to practice this week. "I will not see you."
"Probably not," Jeremy said sadly. "I wish I could come by during the week but…" But he couldn't. Jean knew. Jeremy's schedule was too packed to allow any extra time, especially now that they were living so far off campus. "I'm sorry."
Jean was more upset with Mathilda Wilshire than he was with Jeremy, so he said "it is okay" even though it wasn't. "You will come Saturday?"
"I will," he promised. "And we can text and stuff." A faint flush came over his cheeks. "We could call again, if you wanted."
"I would like that," Jean said. "I will…" he trailed off, saying he'd miss Jeremy felt far too vulnerable. "I will look forward to Saturday."
"Me too," Jeremy said. "Do you need anything else before I go?"
I need you to stay, Jean didn't say. Even as his partner, he had no right to ask that of him. "I will be okay. I will not need anything before the girls arrive."
"Okay," Jeremy said, and Jean could tell he was disappointed to be leaving. It was better this way though. Better to get it over with rather than drag it out. As Jeremy started out, Jabberwocky sat near the door as if to bid him farewell. "Bye Jab!" Jean could picture Jeremy's smile, even before he turned to see it. "I'll see you Saturday. Love you!" Jeremy blew a kiss at the dog, and Jean let himself pretend it was for him.