Chapter Text
Most people hated the feeling of coming home to emptiness.
Pablo didn’t.
There was something thrilling about getting your own silence after days of being surrounded by people.
He had just arrived at his apartment, finally back in his country after an amazing national break. Even saying goodbye to Ansu at the airport couldn’t damper his mood completely.
Ferran offered to drop him back, giving him even more praise during the drive.
And to end his break perfectly, he returned to an empty apartment. No cameras, no people, just everything he needed.
“Thanks Ferran,” Pablo said, opening the car door. “I’ll see you at practice, yeah?”
“No problem wonder boy,” Ferran replied, a huge grin on his face. Pablo rolled his eyes, slamming the door shut.
He got his bag out of the trunk and slowly made his way into the building. It was one of those older buildings he lived in, something that blended in with the architecture of the rest of the city.
No doorman or receptionist, just older couples who couldn’t even remember his name.
Pablo let out a hum, dragging his bag up the stairs. Aurora would be visiting him tomorrow, she’s going to try to get him to find a different place again, he knows it.
His sister didn’t seem to understand what he wanted, but it was fine.
She was his sister after all.
He pulled out his keys, jiggling the door open to find that the lights in his apartment were on.
Immediately, Pablo paused.
Did someone break in?
He took a few steps back, leaving his bag in the entryway. The smart thing would be to call the police, alert someone, walk away.
But Pablo did none of those.
Instead, he walked fully into the apartment, eyes staring down the hallway. To the right would be the living room, and to the left would be the kitchen, and one of the bathrooms was at the end of the hallway. Whoever was in here had too many places to hide.
Pablo let out a shaky breath, making a left into the kitchen. The laundry closet was wide open, making his heart lurch. He glanced at the dining table, and one of the chairs was pushed out of the way. Same with the island.
He opened the drawer near the sink, pulling out one of the steak knives Lewandowski gave to him in a dining set.
Slowly, he approached the living room, eyes darting everywhere to catch any movement.
His living room was spacious, enough room for a couch, seats, a TV and a coffee table. There was also a bookshelf with random crap on it, a few books that Aurora wanted him to read. Plus he had a small terrace. All the way to the left was the hallway that led to the bedrooms, there were three. One for Pablo, a guest bedroom, and an empty storage room that he was supposed to turn into an office.
There was a small thump coming from the corner of the room, near the door to the terrace. Pablo spun around, hands gripping the knife when he saw something hunched over.
But right before he could say anything he heard a cry.
All of a sudden the thing turned around, revealing a little boy in a tank top and old shorts, sitting on the floor crying.
“What the fuck,” Pablo said, eyes wide as his grip on the knife loosened. The kid just let out another cry, staring at him in absolute fear.
‘Put down the fucking knife dipshit,’ He thought to himself, shaking his head. He placed the knife down on the table, not knowing what to do.
“Um,” Pablo muttered, swallowing the lump in his throat. “Kid- what are you doing here?” The kid just continued to cry.
Pablo realized that he wouldn’t be getting any straight answers out of him if he continued to sprout more tears than a waterfall, so he slowly approached him.
The kid pushed himself back, but was met by the glass door.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” Pablo said carefully, trying not to scare him more. “See?” He put his hands up. “I promise.” He sat down on the hardwood floor, legs crossed and trying to look as non-threatening as possible.
The kids' cries quieted down a bit, now he was just sniffling and coughing. Pablo bit the inside of his mouth, not sure if he should get him some water or stay here with him.
“I’m Gavi,” He stated, looking at the kid's face, trying to see if he could recognize him from somewhere.
The kid looked really familiar, but something was blocking him from remembering.
“I-I’m Weo,” The boy replied, sniffing. “I’m hwungry.”
“Well Leo I can get you something to eat, but you need to tell me why you’re here,” Pablo said, racking his head for any Leos he knew.
There was Leo Messi, but this wasn’t Leo Messi.
Pablo stared.
The kid did look a lot like Messi though.
“I-I dunno,” Leo mumbled, wiping his face. “I was-I was slweeping and den I woke up, and I was hwere.”
“Where are your parents? Maybe we can go look for them.”
Leo stared at him, before his eyes widened and the tears began again.
“I can’t rwemeber my Mama and Pwapa,” Leo cried, and Pablo felt his heart drop. “I-I cwan’t-,”
“Shit,” Pablo cursed, moving forward. “Wait, don't cry again.” He touched the boy's shoulder, noting how tiny the kid was.
Leo flopped forward, and Pablo held him, letting him cry into his shoulder.
But in his head he was screaming.
This kid didn’t remember his parents? What the hell was he supposed to do now? Take him to the police? The hospital? Maybe he has amnesia or something-
Or what if he’s an orphan?
Pablo rubbed the boy's back softly trying his best to calm him down. Leo just continued to cry, his words making zero sense.
“It’s ok if you don’t remember,” Pablo tried to say, wincing when he felt the kid rub his face on the shirt. “You said you were hungry, yeah? I have food, I can give you something you eat.” Leo nodded his head, before tucking his head into the crook of Pablo’s neck, wrapping his arms around him as well.
“I’m not going too-,” Pablo paused. “Fine, I'll carry you.” He picked the boy up, bringing him to the kitchen and placing him down on one of the pulled out chairs.
Leo was still crying, blubbering about his parents and that his stomach hurts. Pablo let out a sigh, opening the snack cabinet.
To which he realized that he lacked a lot of kid friendly food. His apartment was filled with high protein shit, and he was not giving that to a little kid.
“What about fruit, do you like fruit?” Pablo asked, hoping the kid would stop crying enough for his words to make sense.
Leo shut his mouth, breathing heavily as he tried to hold in his coughing. He stared at Pablo with uncertainty, making Pablo groan.
“Come on, strawberries! They’re sweet.” Leo made another face. “Just try them! I’ll eat them with you.” Pablo took the plastic container out of the fridge, placing them in the sink to wash them. He glanced back at Leo every few seconds, grateful that the kid finally calmed down.
He placed the fruit into a bowl, bringing them over to Leo with a paper towel.
Leo stared at him, eyes wide and lips pressed firmly together, small hiccups that were clearly trying to be suppressed sneaking out of him.
“Try one,” Pablo said, picking a strawberry up and holding it out to him. Leo again just stared at him. The Spaniard wanted to slam his head into the table.
He decided to eat the strawberry, showing Leo that it was good.
“See?” He stated, placing the top part with the leaf on the paper towel. “It’s so good.” He picked up another one, trying to give it to Leo again.
This time the boy actually took it, tapping it with his fingers, before sticking the whole entire thing into his mouth.
Pablo made a face when Leo shoved his whole fist into his mouth, just to eat the strawberry.
“Wait, don't eat the leaf-,” It was too late. Leo was chewing, his spit covered hand wiping itself on his shirt.
So gross.
But at least he was eating it.
“Do you like it?” Pablo asked, eyeing the boy. “You can have more.” Leo just nodded, and Pablo passed him another one.
He picked up his phone, sending an S.O.S message to Xavi, praying that choosing his manager for help was the best decision.
“What is that,” Xavi asked, staring at the kid who sat quietly on Pablo’s couch. “ Who is that.”
“Leo.” Was all Pablo said. “He’s Leo.”
“That’s just creepy,” Xavi muttered, rubbing his head. “He looks like Leo and his parents named him Leo.”
Xavi wouldn’t lie.
This random kid looked like his old friend, more than Ciro did.
Did Leo have an affair? A secret kid? The resemblance was uncanny.
And how the hell did Pablo get him?
“He was just here,” Pablo explained, as if reading his mind. “I walked in, and the lights were all on, stuff was moved around. Found him in the living room. He can’t remember anything Xavi, not even his parents.”
“Did he give you a last name?”
“I didn’t ask.”
Xavi glared at Pablo, prompting him to move closer to Leo.
“Um, Leo.” The boy’s head snapped to Pablo’s direction. “Can you tell me your full name? So we can find your Mom and Dad.” Xavi had a feeling they already knew who his dad was.
“Lionel An-Andres Messi,” Leo mumbled, rubbing his eyes. “I d-don remember my Mama.”
“What about your Dad?” Xavi immediately asked. “Is your dad a futbol player? Short, his name could be Leo too?”
Leo wouldn’t give his kid the same exact name as him, it just wasn’t something he’d do. But if he had a one-night stand and didn’t know about the kid, then maybe the mom did it.
But to no avail, the kid just shook his head. “I can’t r-remember.”
“That’s ok,” Xavi said, not wanting to scare the boy. “We’re going to help, can you tell us how old you are?”
“I’m five, a big boy.”
“I thought he was three,” Pablo muttered, turning his face away. “He’s so small.”
“Yeah well this is why I tell you to use your brain.”
Xavi was going to call Leo. He was going to call him, and tell him that this kid of his exists because there's no way that this is just a weird doppelgänger.
“I’m going to step in the kitchen,” He muttered, glancing at the two. Leo was just staring, and Pablo stared back.
Xavi pulled out his phone, pausing when he saw how many missed calls and notifications he had received. His phone was placed in silence, just so he could focus on the kid.
The manager scrolled, frowning when he saw how many of the missed calls were from Pep, Busquets, and Jordi. He tapped on Pep’s name, pressing the phone to his ear.
Immediately the older man picked up, and Xavi was thrown back.
“Fuck- where the hell have you’ve been?” Pep yelled. “We’ve been calling you for the past thirty fucking minutes.”
“Why are you yelling?” Xavi said, a twisting feeling beginning to form in his stomach. “Pep, what happened?”
“Leo’s missing.” Oh.
Xavi felt his heart go numb for a few seconds, his jaw becoming heavy.
“Kun called me and there’s this huge group chat, apparently he never made it home, and no ones seen him since he left practice.” He felt his eyes squeeze shut, mind immediately flash images of the kid on the couch.
It just couldn’t be possible.
“Ok,” Xavi muttered, shaking his head. “I- shit I don't know what to say.”
“Have you talked to him recently? Seen him? His break is coming up soon and he was going to go to Barcelona by himself, that’s what Antonela said. Did he talk to you about that?”
He had seen him.
Leo was sitting on the fucking couch right now.
This kid looked too similar, his name was the exact copy, and Leo goes missing the day this kid appears.
‘I sound crazy,’ Xavi thought. “I talked to him a few days ago, congratulated him on the national break, and we just caught each other up. That’s it.” Pep stayed silent, making Xavi feeling even more sick.
Should he tell him about the kid? Explain his insane theory and turn to FaceTime to show just how identical Leo looks to, well Leo.
But what would they do then? Get a DNA test, show that the kid is either Leo’s or is Leo, and then take him away?
Could Antonela take care of him? With three other kids to now take care of by herself? And what if the kid is a Leo offspring and the mother's family wants to start problems?
They could handle that.
But if this kid is Leo, the Leo Messi who randomly turned into a fucking five-year-old.
Then what do they do then?
“Pep,” Xavi said, swallowing the lump in his throat. “Pep, do you know if Leo ever had one-night stands?”
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
“I’m just asking Pep.”
“No, no he never did any of that,” Pep stated. “Leo doesn’t even sleep with his own wife, what makes you think he’d go and fuck a random stranger?”
“Why do you know that?” Xavi asked, eyes widening. “Pep, that's disgusting, why do you know that?”
“Leo told me that, and it’s obvious.”
“We are not talking about his bedroom life,” Xavi snapped. “That poor woman is already going through enough, I just wanted to know if he would’ve had a one-night stand.” Maybe around 2017, because that would make the most fucking sense.
“No, he didn’t, why are you asking?”
Xavi held his breath.
“Well I heard a rumor about this kid so-,”
“Which is why it’s called a rumor,” Pep said, cutting him off. “You’re smarter than that.”
“Yeah I know,” Xavi sighed. “Look I’ve gotta go, but keep me updated on this.”
“You were added to a group chat-,” Xavi hung up on him.
He knew he would be interrogated later on how calm he was being. He could blame that on shock.
But he himself believed that this kid was Leo why did he have to go and ask all that crap about one-night stands? Now they were going to be hounding him for clarity, and he’s going to have to show them Leo.
Xavi sighed, and walked back into the living room, finding that the t.v was on and Leo was sitting quietly. Pablo sat next to him but was on his phone.
“Pablo,” Xavi said, shoving his phone back into his pocket. “That was Pep.”
“I don’t see the relation.” Brat.
“Messi has apparently gone missing,” He stated, watching as the younger's eyes widened. His jaw opened, before closing, before opening again.
“But wait,” Xavi said, putting a hand up. “I know where he is.”
“Did you tell Pep then?” Pablo asked, sitting up straight. “What about Pedro? Does he know?”
“No I didn’t tell Pep,” Xavi sighed, walking over to Leo. “Because, this is Messi.” He placed a hand on Leo’s hair, making the boy flinch.
Pablo’s mouth dropped again.
The news of Messi disappearing broke a day later, from an inside source.
It was no shock that the world seemed to have lost it.
Kun couldn’t pinpoint who leaked Leo’s disappearance, but once he found out which jackass did it he’d have his hands wrapped around their throat.
They weren’t ready, most of them had barely processed it, the kids didn’t even know yet.
“I want your whole fucking team interrogated,” Jorge stated, slamming his hand down onto the table. “One of them said something, I told you not to tell them, but you didn’t fucking listen. They probably couldn’t wait to get money from a tabloid off of this.”
“You’re putting the blame on Leo’s teammates?” David asked, eyes wide. “Are you serious? Your son runs off, and you blame those around him.”
Jorge’s face turned bright red, he took a few steps back, before cursing under his breath.
“We should’ve never taken that fucking deal, we could’ve gone to Saudi or Barcelona, but no you promised money and more success for Leo.” He took a deep breath. “But what about Leo? He’d be happier if we just waited for Barcelona, but you had to keep on pushing didn’t you?”
“I’m not going to fucking stand here and let you insult me or my club like that,” David snapped. “You’re his manager, he listens to you, we all know he wanted Spain, but you wanted money, and he can’t stick up for himself outside of futbol or when a full moon comes out, and he tells his PR team to stop talking for him.”
“I think we all need to calm down,” Tata interrupted, and Kun wanted to smack him. “People know about this now, we need to release a statement and deal with the drawbacks.”
“Drawbacks?” Kun asked, glaring. “You mean the fact that no one will show up to your games because Leo isn’t there, that’s what you're worried about.”
“It’s a matter of concern.”
Kun let out a scoff, glancing at Jorge who only just shook his head.
“I will be talking to the press, David, whatever you say through the club I want to check first,” The older man stated, crossing his arms to hide his shaking fists.
Antonela and Celia were trying to find a way to break it to the kids, well mainly Celia. Antonela had been in a state of what Kun could only describe as shock since yesterday.
At first, she, along with him, denied it. Claiming that Leo’s probably just clearing his head or lost track of time. But it didn’t take Kun long to fall into the huge hole Leo had left.
Jordi found Leo’s car parked at the training center, all of his things left in it. After that they began to call people, anyone really.
Scaloni didn’t know anything, he had already begun prepping for the next international break. Pep was in the same boat but for the Premier League.
They called teammates, ex teammates, ex managers, anyone who was on Leo’s contact list.
And yet they got nothing.
“Has anyone contacted the police?” Kun asked, wanting to make some progress. “Maybe they can look over the security footage, or like investigate, with that fingerprint shit and stuff.”
“The local department isn’t going to find someone like Leo,” Jorge stated. “They’ll need to call in whoever is higher up.”
“So we just wait?”
“What about Xavi?” Tata asked, interrupting the conversation. “Leo wanted to vacation in Barcelona right? Maybe he knows something.”
“Pep talked to him,” Kun sighed. “Nothing. Xavi doesn’t know shit.” The door opened, and Celia walked into the room.
The woman looked like a storm had passed through her.
“She’s not telling the kids,” Celia stated, her voice so hoarse that Kun could barely understand her. “They can read the headlines, hear they’re friends talk about it, and she’s choosing to not tell them anything.” The door opened again, and Antonela entered.
“Are you seriously doing this?” She asked, voice full of hurt and hate. “How I chose to parent my children is not your concern.”
“It becomes my concern when they’re father is missing and you choose to hide reality from them!”
“God, what is your issue with me?” Antonela snapped. “Leo loves you, the kids love you, you’re always around us, so what is the issue? Why can you not let me handle anything? Fourteen years and you still act like this!”
“Do not talk to my wife like that,” Jorge stated, walking up to her. Kun stood up, glancing at Antonela who didn’t even flinch. “What makes you think your kids living in confusion over why their father isn’t coming home is a good thing? They go to school, practice, they’re friends will hear it from their parents, and they will be asking questions. How are they going to answer?”
“They are little boys,” Antonela said, her fists bawling up. “I cannot just flat out tell them their father is missing, that’s not how it works.”
“Then how does it work? Should they be hearing whatever facts come from the news?”
“They are my children,” She stated, swallowing harshly. “Leo might have let you two have a choice before me but no more. You aren’t telling them and if you do, I will leave and stay with my parents.”
“If you think you can enter Argentina without the security that our family pays for, you’re insane,” Jorge said, narrowing his eyes. “Thiago is smart, he’ll figure it out by himself and what will you do then?”
“He will come to his mother and I will be ready to explain it to him.”
Jorge stared at her for a few more seconds, before pulling out his phone.
“I’m going to begin to work on the press statement, I’ll forward you all a copy,” He stated. “But I won’t make any changes, the media's knowledge will be kept at a minimum.”
“What about who leaked it?” Kun asked, mind still racing to figure out who it could be. “If we keep talking to anyone about this, every news outlet in Miami, France, Spain, Argentina, and Saudi will have enough information to spin theories.”
“Then keep in a circle,” David said. “Close friends, people who are still active in his life now.”
“I don’t want anyone on your team but Alba and Busiquets to be updated,” Jorge added, raising a hand when David tried to argue. “We haven’t even known your team for a year. Leo likes them, yes but they are not close to him, not like anyone from Barcelona or Argentina. Do not update them with anything or you will be iced out.” Kun nodded in agreement.
He didn’t know what else to say, his tongue felt like a brick laid on it, making the rest of his mouth dry. There was almost a pulsing feeling in his hands and head.
He wondered what Leo was feeling right now.
Was he safe? Scared? Or maybe he’s knocked out cold in a dark alley somewhere.
Or maybe, Leo wanted to leave.
What if they did something wrong? Made Leo want to leave and he just managed to trick them into not realizing it.
Leo was good at masking, he’d been good at it since Thiago was born, maybe even before that.
So if there was a problem, any issue at all, they wouldn’t know. They never knew, not unless they managed to force it out of him or he willinging told them. And that was only the times where they really paid attention and caught a glimpse of it.
Kun held his hands together, trying to shove the twisting feeling in his stomach further down.