Chapter Text
Injured life, for the most part, has been treating him well. As gutted as Jack always is to miss games, especially against a team like psg, who he grew up watching with stars in his eyes and in all honesty still does, he welcomes the opportunity to rest. Adapting to life in Manchester has been difficult, more difficult than he expected, and sometimes Jack finds himself struggling to believe he's made the right decision, that his future wasn't supposed to be confined to Villa Park. When he thinks about it logically, he knows that these feelings are slightly ridiculous. He's given his entire life to football, since he was a child it's all he ever thought about, all he ever wanted, and he reminds himself that it isn't selfish of him to want everything he can possibly get out of his career, to play in Europe and hopefully one day win a trophy in Europe, because he's worked for it and he's fucking earned it, no matter what people say. Still, he misses home, misses his family, his friends, the fans that loved him and screamed his name instead of criticising his every move. So it's nice to have a break from all the pressure, which doesn't come very often with City's insanely full schedule. Jack thinks that actually, maybe a month off to get his head together is all he needs to get rid of the dark patches in his mind. He's resilient like that, bounces back easier than most because he's good at forgetting, or doesn't have the attention span for remembering, one of the two.
Possibly the only thing that Jack hasn't struggled with is getting along with the team, which he honestly did worry about, although he's not entirely sure why. Jack gets along with everybody without even having to try, knows how to enter a room and make everyone in it love him within a matter of minutes, which is exactly what he did in the Manchester City changing rooms. It helped that he was already so close with Phil and John beforehand, and he had a considerably good relationship with Kyle and Raheem, but even before they came back from their summer holidays, Jack never struggled without them. He's always been described as charismatic, charming, but Jack's never really seen that as the reason why he gets along with almost everyone he meets. If there's two things in this world that Jack understands, it's football and people; he just has a knack for knowing what people are thinking, who they are and what they want from him, so he always knows the right thing to say to keep people impressed.
He's something a little further beyond an extrovert, so it does hurt a little that he won't see the team every day in training. Honestly, that probably hurts more than the actual injury, which feels almost completely fine as long as he's avoiding overly heavy exercise. If he was still at Villa he'd probably only be out for a week, and part of Jack wonders if Pep is only being so cautious about it because he knows that Jack needs a break, mentally more than physically.
It hurts to know that the rest of the team are all together right now without him, watching the other UCL games in preparation ahead of their game tomorrow night. Pep doesn't always make them go into the training ground to watch other games, but he has tonight, claiming that it'll get them in the right headspace for tomorrow. If it was anyone else Jack would think that's complete bullshit, but there's a method in Pep's madness, and Jack's starting to learn not to question it.
Jack's watching too, from the comfort of his quiet flat, and he and Phil text each other their observations back and forth, because they're the same in the way that no matter how many games they watch, how many games they play, they still get just as excited by every single one. It's nice. It makes Jack feel good to know that even when he's not there, he's still being thought of, he's still part of the team.
Pep likes to periodically flick between all the games on UCL nights, and Phil makes sure to fill Jack in on anything interesting that he's missing after Jack said that he's only planning on watching Chelsea and Juventus tonight. Whilst Barcelona playing a laughable game against Benfica does sound appealing, he always enjoys watching Chelsea play more than almost any other team. They've got some incredible talent, every player on the pitch giving something exciting with every game, and they've got something truly special going on right now. Not only that, but it's always nice to watch Mason and Ben out there enjoying themselves, getting better and better with every game, showing no signs of slowing down any time soon.
There's a warm feeling in Jack's chest that comes from watching Ben recently, something like pride, or maybe relief that everything finally seems to be working out for him again. The euros had been a cycle of bitter disappointment, taking knock after knock to his confidence until it was pretty much non-existent. Ben had been an exceptional sport about it, nodding and taking it all with the most convincing smile he could force himself to muster, and Gareth and the other boys had all praised him for his resilience, but Jack had thought the whole situation was a bit of a piss take. Maybe that was just because Jack was the only one there who saw how badly it was really affecting him, the only one who had Ben tentatively knocking on his door and climbing into his bed in the middle of the night when he couldn't stand to be alone with his spiralling thoughts any longer, or maybe Jack was just a little protective over his best friend. Either way, Gareth could have handled the situation better, but he never cared about how Ben was feeling, and he never did anything to help.
Their little holiday after the euros had gone a long way to take Ben's mind off the whole thing. He was less tense, less wound up, and actually getting a reasonable amount of sleep each night for the first time that summer. Whilst it had been a relief to watch Ben finally relax, the gaping holes in his confidence were still abundantly clear, obvious to Jack and immediately noted by Thomas Tuchel the second Ben stepped back into Cobham for training. After that, Jack didn't really hear a lot from Ben for a few months, which he could only take as a very bad sign.
Watching Ben now, though, it's obvious that Tuchel managed to do what Gareth couldn't. He actually cared enough to do something about Ben's declining mental health, and by giving Ben the time to rebuild confidence in himself, he'd developed a player in the best form of his life, scoring goals and keeping clean sheets near enough every time he played. Ben was visibly happier, body relaxed and face glowing with pride. And Ben deserved to be proud of himself; he'd clawed his way out of the dark and he'd more than earned the right to shine in his success. He'd also started texting Jack back again, which was nice.
It's around the 65th minute and Chelsea are up 3-0, completely dominating the game with all signs pointing towards a very comfortable win. Mason isn't on the pitch, but Ben is, and he's playing a great game, as he always does these days. Until there's a pass from Chiesa that lands at the feet of Rabiot, and Ben runs and jumps in, determination fuelled by his new-found confidence, because he wants the ball and he knows he can get it, even if he doesn't really need it, even if he could have just left it.
And Ben could have won it, except he doesn't, because as he lands and sticks out his left leg, his right knee twists, twists in a way that even though it all happens so fast, and even though it's difficult to see, Jack's stomach clenches in sympathy, and he knows it's going to be bad. Really, really bad. Nobody even seems to notice, which is the worst part, and Jack fights the urge to scream at his tv as the referee allows play to continue despite the fact that Ben is right there, banging on the grass and shouting out in pain because he needs somebody to help him and no one does.
If he were there, Jack thinks, he would be by Ben's side in an instant. He doesn't hold it against Ben's teammates, they've got a job to do and a goal to protect, but he can't help feeling just a little bit angry as he watches Ben struggle on his own. Ben isn't the type to fall to the floor screaming if he didn't really mean it, he's too honest for that, and they should all know that this means it's serious.
Jack's gaze stays fixed on the tv as Ben continues to lay there on the pitch, not getting up. Fear grips his stomach tight, clawing it's way up into his throat as he watches Ben twist and turn on the grass, like the pain is so immense that he physically can't contain it. Injuries like this are never nice, always awful to see whether it's a player you know well or not, but this, seeing Ben like this and knowing exactly how terrified he must be, knowing he can't be there to do anything about it, it's enough to make Jack feel sick.
Finally, the referee blows the whistle and the medics run onto the pitch. It's something of a temporary relief, but Ben's still wincing, and Jack just wants to hug him. His heart races like it's trying to break through his chest.
It should be a relief when Ben finally stands up, but it's not, not really. Not when he's barley able to walk, not when it takes a medic supporting him on either side and about five minutes of stumbling before he finally makes it off the pitch, not when he's looking at Reece with barely contained despair in his eyes, looking completely heartbroken.
Jack's not expecting much of a response, but he send Ben a quick text anyway, just to remind him that he's here.
Jack: call me when you have a second? or send me a quick text? just let me know ur ok
Jack: love you bro, you're gonna be fine ❤️❤️❤️
A few minutes later Jack's phone buzzes, and he swallows slightly guilty disappointment when he realises it's not Ben.
Phil: we just saw what happened to chilly! looked terrible :( :( :(
Phil: when u talk to him next pls tell him me stonesy walks nd raz send our love ❤️💙🥰😊
Jack replies promising that he will, relaxing just a little. It's sweet of Phil to say, Phil's always sweet, and Ben will appreciate it. Jack doesn't know if Phil just doesn't feel close enough to Ben to text him himself, or if he knows as well as Jack does that Ben will already be swarmed by messages that he won't have the energy to reply to for at least a week, but there's something about it that satisfies Jack. Because it would have made more sense for Phil to send that to Mason or Reece, who are actually there with Ben and will undoubtedly speak to him before Jack will even get a text back, but he didn't.
He likes that when Phil thinks of Ben, he thinks of Jack. Not Mason, Not Reece, not even Madders. He's not entirely sure why it matters, but he knows that it does.
As expected, he never gets a call or reply from Ben, but he's woken up just before two in the morning by a text from Mason.
Mason: ben wanted me to let you know he's ok, just tired. i'm staying with him tonight so he's not alone. nothing to worry about :)
Jack let's out a sigh of relief at that. It's no secret that Ben doesn't do particularly well by himself, and it's a weight off Jack's shoulders to know that he won't be. Whilst he still can't help but wish that he was the one there instead of Mason, he feels a little bit lighter than he had before as he falls back to sleep.
•
Jack wakes up earlier than usual the next morning, with Skye cuddled up against him underneath his sheets, and he decides to take her with him on his run later. He can do a moderate amount of exercise without irritating his injury, just enough to keep up his fitness, but he's under strict instructions not to push himself too far, which Skye will help to remind him of. She's energetic, but she still struggles to keep up with Jack, which usually means she gets tired pretty quickly, and at this time of the year she'll get cold and whine until Jack feels bad enough to take her home, not even giving him the opportunity to get carried away.
Before that, whilst he's making breakfast, he sends Ben three texts, calls him five times, and facetimes him twice, all of which go unanswered until Mason picks up the phone on the last ring and explains that he's driven Ben to Cobham to get a few scans of his knee, but he'll try to get Ben to call back later if he's feeling up to it. Jack kind of doubts that'll happen, but that's fine. As long as Ben has someone with him, Jack supposes it shouldn't matter who.
It's an hour later and Jack's just adjusting Skye's leash before leaving the flat, looking forward to feeling fresh air in his lungs and the familiar burning in his thighs, when his phone starts to ring. He's surprised when he sees Ben's name on the screen, and he answers immediately.
Jack stays quiet at first, half expecting to hear Mason start speaking on the other end, but he doesn't. All he hears is harsh, rapid breathing. Skye looks up at him in confusion, wondering what he's waiting for.
"Ben?" Jack says, eventually. "Is that you? What's going on?"
The silence stretches out for a little longer, interrupted only by a few short sniffles. Jack waits patiently, until Ben finally replies with a simple, "Jack?"
"Yeah, I'm here. What's wrong?" Jack says, trying to keep his voice calm and level, but he's growing more concerned by the second. He's heard Ben like this a few times before, and it never tends to end well.
There's no response to that, so Jack tries to press a little further. "Did you get your scan results back?"
At that, Jack hears a loud sob break through the phone, which he assumes means yes, and the result isn't good. His heart clenches. He bites his lip, picks at his nails, picks up random items off the counter to fidget with, anything to keep his body occupied, keep the nausea in his stomach at bay.
There are a lot of people who assume that Jack wouldn't be good at this sort of thing, but he's never really been sure why. Maybe it's because he doesn't seem like a particularly serious kind of guy most of the time, or, on a slightly more hurtful note, because people think he's too stupid, or too shallow to care. He tries not to let it bother him since anybody who knows him, actually knows him, is well aware that those assumptions couldn't be further from the truth. Again, Jack understands people without even really having to try, and if he knows the right things to say to make people interested in him, he also knows the right things to say to make people feel better. And he doesn't think there's anybody in the world he understands better than Ben, so he knows he can handle this. He can do this. It's a shit situation, but Jack knows he can make it just a bit more manageable.
It takes Ben a while to find the words he wants, and Jack doesn't rush him. Finally, he manages to get a sentence out around his heavy inhales. "Yeah," he breathes. "It's- It's an acl. I don't know- I don't know what to do. I don't-."
"It's ok," Jack says instantly, the urge to reassure forgoing anything else, even though the words probably won't make Ben feel much better right now. He unties Skye from her leash, the running plans now long forgotten about, much to her disappointment. He tries his best to sound calming as he continues to speak. "It'll heal, you'll get through it."
Jack's efforts seem to do very little to help, if the increase in Ben's distressed sobs are any indication. "It's not-," he tries, getting cut off by his own panicked gasps. "I can't-. What if-. I might not-."
"Ben," Jack interjects quickly, because Ben's only working himself up, getting more frustrated with every sentence that he fails to express, and honestly Jack's finding it hard to listen to him struggling like this without crying himself. "You're not making any sense because you're panicking. Calm down first, then we can talk about it properly."
It takes a while, a lot of breathing exercises and counting and repeating "it's ok, it'll be ok", but eventually Ben stops crying, his breathing evens out, and when he speaks it's significantly more coherent than before. He still sounds a little teary, and of course he's still upset, but it's a huge improvement.
"Thanks, Jack," Ben sighs, voice slightly weak from exhaustion. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have just randomly called you like that. I'm sorry if you were busy."
Jack waves this off with ease. "Don't apologise. Been trying to get you to talk to me since last night, haven't I? I'm glad you called."
Ben's quiet for a second. "Sorry about that. I was- you know I can be like that sometimes."
"Seriously, no apologies,” Jack repeats, and hears Ben sigh in response. He sounds tense, clearly still wound up. Jack takes a breath before tentatively asking, "So, acl? How bad?"
Ben sucks in a sharp inhale, as if it startled him, like he wasn’t expecting the question. Jack almost feels bad for asking, not wanting to push if Ben really isn’t ready to talk about it, but he doesn’t think he can hang up without knowing. “Partial tear,” Ben says, and swallows thickly. His voice wobbles, but Jack’s relieved to hear him remain relatively calm.
“Did they say anything about surgery?” Jack tries, hoping it won’t be too much.
“They want to wait ‘til January, to see if it’ll heal by itself first. I don’t know if it will, but I’m trying to be positive.”
Something inside Jack settles at that, the twisting nerves in his stomach relenting just a little. Surgery would mean the end of the season. It would be devastating, and Jack doesn’t even want to think about how Ben would cope with it. Even if he recovered quickly, Jack’s not sure he would survive the anxiety, or the isolation. “Yeah, good,” Jack breathes. “That’s good. See, I told you you’d be fine.” He relaxes even more when Ben lets out a short laugh at that, satisfied with the proof that he actually is making Ben feel a little bit better, that he is helping.
Ben doesn’t say anything else, so Jack asks the final question that had been weighing on his mind, “How’s the pain? It looked horrible last night. I was worried.”
Ben’s line goes completely silent at that, except for the sound of him fidgeting, tapping his nails rapidly against something next to him. Again, Jack finds himself worrying that he’s pushing too far, regretting not giving Ben just a little more time before pressing him like this. When Ben opens his mouth to reply, his voice is quiet, almost silent, and very soft. “I didn’t know you were watching.”
Jack bites his tongue before he can ask why it matters. Ben said it like it was significant, like it really meant something to him, and Jack doesn’t want to push him away by saying the wrong thing. Instead he says, “I always like to watch you when I can,” because it’s the truth. Jack loves watching Ben play, he always has, and he would never shy away from admitting it, because Ben’s beautiful to watch. He’s controlled, intelligent, and it’s clear that he cares about every single thing he does out on the pitch. Recently, Jack thinks he’s been celebrating Ben’s goals more that he would celebrate his own.
Ben swallows, stops tapping his nails only to start biting them instead, but says nothing. “So, how is it?” Jack presses, still hopeful for an actual answer.
“Bad. Terrible, actually,” Ben admits. It’s not like Jack was expecting anything else, but a spark of panic runs through him at the thought of Ben being in pain nevertheless. “I can’t really walk right now, or stand for very long. They gave me crutches last night, but that’s embarrassing, so I’ve just been using Mason.”
Jack rolls his eyes, but he’s laughing. “Use the crutches. Don’t make life harder for yourself, you idiot,” he says, voice full of affection.
“I’ll have to soon,” Ben says, sounding a little apprehensive. “Mase is flying to Austria with Dec tonight to watch his game, then they’ve got a load of romantic stuff planned when they get back tomorrow. It’s really sweet actually, but they’ve not had a day off at the same time for like a month now. How shit is that?”
With the exception of what he manages to glimpse during international breaks, all Jack really knows about Declan and Mason’s relationship comes from Ben, but it always makes him smile to hear about the nice things they do for each other, to know that things are going well. This time, though, Jack’s a little concerned. “So, you’ll be on your own then?” he asks.
“Well, yeah. But I’m not dying, Jack. I can take care of myself,” Ben says, only half joking. Jack doesn’t know what to say to that, can’t figure out how to explain that he doesn’t actually know if that’s true without sounding like a dickhead.
When Jack closes his eyes, he can imagine exactly what Ben looks like right now, eyes red and swollen from the tears, hands still shaking, terrified and dealing with it all by himself. When he pictures it, he can’t stop himself from saying, “I just wish I was there with you.”
Ben is stunned into silence by that. He goes completely still, holding his breath. It leaves Jack wondering what it is he’s doing that’s leaving Ben speechless so often, worrying that he’s doing something wrong, but he has no idea what it could be. “Me too,” Ben says after a few beats, and there’s a certain kind of longing in his voice that pulls strangely in Jack’s heart.
And then it clicks into place, and Jack remembers that technically he’s injured too, which means that there’s nothing actually stopping him from going to London. He could go to see Ben, right now. He could make sure that Ben’s ok, and spend all day hanging out , and keep him happy and smiling. There’s no reason why he can’t. “I’ll be there in the morning, then,” he says with certainty.
Ben laughs. “That would be nice.”
“No, I’m serious. I’ll ask Pep if I can do all my fitness stuff from home, and I can leave Skye with Phil. Ronnie’ll be buzzing, he’ll think christmas has come early,” Jack declares, meaning every word. It’s impulsive, but impulsivity has always been his speciality, and with the exception of a few minor situations, it’s served him well.
For the first time since Jack picked up the phone, Ben‘s answer comes immediately. “What? No, Jack, I can’t ask you to do that,” he says, sounding a little confused.
“You’re not asking,” Jack states simply. “I’m inviting myself round.”
“You can’t- There’s no way you’ll get Pep to agree to that,” Ben tries, severely underestimating just how convincing Jack can be when he puts his mind to it. Jack wonders if he should be offended.
“Honestly, I think he’ll be glad to get rid of me for a bit,” Jack shrugs. “Come on. It’s been ages since we saw each other properly. Think about it, when’s the next time we’re both going to have this much free time? Probably never!”
He can tell that he’s starting to get through, and he knows Ben well enough to know that his hesitance isn’t because he doesn’t want Jack there. One of Ben’s worst habits is refusing to say no to hanging out with people even when he’s throughly exhausted, which usually ends in him completely burning himself out and ignoring every single text he receives for weeks at a time. The issue here is that Ben will believe he’s inconveniencing Jack, even when Jack is the one asking to come. So, Jack concludes, he just needs to prove that he genuinely wants to do this and isn’t only offering out of some misplaced sense of obligation, which is ridiculous anyway, because Ben is the kind of person to do that but Jack isn’t and he never has been.
Again, Jack understands people, and he understands Ben better than anybody. “You’re my best friend, and I miss you,” he admits honestly, without any hesitance. When he hears Ben take in a sharp breathe, he knows he’s convinced him.
“I’m gonna be shit company right now,” Ben concedes, and Jack beams like it’s the best thing he’s ever heard. The thought of seeing Ben, being face to face with him, being able to hug him and watch his eyes light up as he laughs, Jack’s over the moon already. He’s missed it more than he knows how to express.
“Nothing new there then,” Jack teases, and Ben’s answering scoff is light with amusement. Jack’s grinning like a mad man, he can’t stop himself. He’s absolutely buzzing. He knows it isn’t going to be easy the entire time, that there’s going to be difficult moments, but as much as Jack trusts Mason, he’s relieved to know that’s he’s going to be the one there to help Ben through it. Jack has the most experience, after all, and it’s no favour that Ben hasn’t returned a thousand times himself.
They’re still giggling and joking as they say their goodbyes, Jack promising that he’ll be there by tomorrow afternoon and Ben quipping that he’ll expect him around midnight then because Jack’s always late. Jack can practically hear Ben’s grin through the phone when he relays Phil’s message of support from last night, and honestly he’s quite proud of himself, because Ben called him in tears but he’s hanging up laughing, and that can only be because of Jack.
•
Jack stops by Phil’s later that evening, wanting to avoid having to wake him up early the next morning. When Jack knocks, Ronnie’s already waiting by the door with Phil, absolutely delighted to be reunited with Skye.
“Thanks for this. I know it’s short notice,” Jack says, unable to keep the smile off his face as he watches Ronnie and Skye play.
Phil waves this off, nodding at Ronnie with unbridled affection. “Not a problem. You’ve made his day.” Then, with a knowing grin, he adds, “let me guess, you’re going to see Chilly?”
“Yeah,” Jack replies. He has no idea why Phil finds it so amusing, so he ignores it. “He was upset when he called me earlier, so I’m going to cheer him up.”
Phil scoffs gently. “I can’t believe you got Pep to agree to that!” he laughs.
“Well. I might have stretched the truth a little bit,” Jack admits, because he knows Phil won’t care. He doesn’t take things too seriously, which is probably one of the reasons why he and Jack get along so easily. “I didn’t really lie, though,” Jack clarifies, because he genuinely didn’t. He told Pep that a member of his family was struggling and he needed to be there for them, and Ben is Jack’s family, really. Not like a brother, or a cousin, but they’re definitely too close for ‘friend’ to be an adequate descriptor.
“Think it’s probably better that I don’t know,” Phil laughs.
Before Jack leaves, he wraps Phil into a light embrace, pressing a quick kiss into his cheek that has him scrunching up his nose like a little kid. “Give Chilly a big hug from me, ok?” Phil whispers against Jack’s shoulder.
“I will,” Jack promises. Phil answers with a warm, sincere smile, and Jack thinks that maybe everything is going to be ok.
After a final ‘thank you’ to Phil and a ‘be good’ to Skye, he leaves to go home and pack his bag for the morning.