Chapter Text
Jamie slowly woke up. The light was burning his eyes and he felt like his brain and his whole body was wrapped in cotton wool. But Jamie knew the deal by now, he had been waking up with a foggy memory and with mystery aches and pains for more than half of his life now. Jamie squinted, tried to make out where he was using the haloed blurs. He tried to wiggle his toes first. It had a seconds delay but they wiggled. Then he tried to wiggle his fingers. Agonising pain rippled up his right arm all the way to his shoulder. Jamie cried out and squeezed his eyes shut to try and weather the onslaught. That was broken, something in his arm was broken. “Woah there Jamie. Take it easy, breathe for me lad,” a distant voice comforted. Jamie didn’t recognise it through the haze but it seemed to have the right idea. Jamie needed to breathe. The exhales whistled through his gritted teeth but the voice kept up a constant stream of platitudes and comforting words. After what seemed like a lifetime the pain started to drain out of his arm taking the tension that consumed his whole body with it. “There we are Jamie. Let the medicines do their work,” the voice was back again and this time it was clearer. This time he vaguely recognized it. Jamie rolled his head over to the side away from his injured arm and inched his eyes open. Either he was having auditory and visual hallucinations from the medley of painkillers he was likely on right now … or Leslie Higgins was sat at his bedside, rubbing circles onto the back of his hand. The circles were helping though, which likely meant not a hallucination. Therefore, Leslie Higgins was sat at the hospital bedside of the striker who got his team relegated. Which begs the question, what the fuck?
“Higgins?” Jamie murmured but his tongue felt like lead and so Jamie wasn’t sure how many of the sounds were the correct ones. Higgins seemed to get the idea though and smiled so softly, a smile that said “oh look at this poor lamb” and Jamie would usually hate that but in that moment, he did feel like a poor lamb.
“Morning Jamie. You had me awful worried. How’s that noggin working now?” Higgins asked, soft smile still plastered over his face. Higgins looked, for lack of a better descriptor, frazzled. His eyes looked tired and worn down. His clothes were rumpled and Jamie had never seen Higgins out of a suit before. He was wearing an old faded jazz band t-shirt and jeans, even his socks were mismatched. He looked like he had got dressed quickly and in the dark.
“Why are you here?” Jamie asked, his speech still slurred but at least his tongue was starting to cooperate.
“Well when we have players join the club and they don’t offer or have a UK based emergency contact I put my name down so that there’s someone in their corner if they need help. I believe that when I asked you what yours was you had some choice words about the merits of paperwork and so I just filled in yours like I do the internationals,” Higgins explained, the soft smile never leaving his face and his hand never leaving Jamie’s.
“But I don’t play for you anymore,” Jamie’s brow furrowed. He wanted to rip his hand away and demand that Higgins leave him to wallow on his own, but the warmth of someone there willing to hold his hand and talk to him when he hurt was nice. Jamie didn’t want to lose that. Higgins could stay for a bit longer.
“Seems like you didn’t bother to update your paperwork when you went back to City. I got the call when you were brought in and I rushed right here,” Higgins explained. “Your shoulder was dislocated, and your elbow is broken. It was a pretty clean break. You also got a pretty good bash to the head which explains some of the fogginess. Can you remember what happened?” he continued. Jamie turned his head and saw that his arm was in a sling and in a blue cast. Fuck. Even if he didn’t have a concussion that was at least ten weeks until he would be back at training. Jamie thumped his head back against the pillows and groaned as it pulled his sore shoulder. “Woah careful there Jamie,” Higgins reached up and adjusted Jamie’s pillows so his shoulder was more supported.
“Pep is going to kill me,” Jamie muttered under his breath. It was his own stupid fault that he was here. He shouldn’t have talked back, James was always worse after a loss and a loss where his own son had hit the post was ten times worse. He walked right into it and now he would be out for at least three months, probably wouldn’t get the regular bench spot back until Pep was resting people for the festive season. His dad would not like that, soft to not play cause of an injury.
“God Jamie,” Higgins hissed. Jamie rolled his head over again to see Higgins squeezing his hand and looking pale as a ghost.
“What?” Jamie frowned.
“Your dad did this to you?” Higgins mumbled. His eyes pierced right into Jamie’s soul.
“I didn’t say nothing,” Jamie exclaimed, trying to pull himself up taller but the pain, the pain was back. Jamie groaned and squeezed Higgin’s hand as all the muscles in his body tensed.
“Woah, woah, stay still. I’ll call the nurse ok?” Higgins exclaimed, reaching over and pressing a button before Jamie could say whether it was ok or not. And not once did he let go of Jamie’s hand.
“That better love?” the nurse asked with far too much cheer in her voice as she adjusted Jamie’s sling and repositioned the pillows.
“Ta love, much better with you here,” Jamie weakly smiled back, relying on his god given charm and dimples to woo the nurse, not any effort. She giggled and patted him on the cheek before turning to Higgins.
“Your son should be able to be discharged in a couple of hours when the doctors have done their rounds. He’s being eased off the heavier painkillers and is doing well on the concussion checks so I don’t see any reason he needs to stay in,” she explained to Higgins who nodded along dutifully.
“Of course, delightful thank you,” Higgins smiled.
“Hopefully I never see you again Mr Tartt,” the nurse sighed, patting Jamie on the leg as she straightened the blankets.
“I could leave my number if you want to change that,” Jamie winked. The nurse looked at him and rolled her eyes but Jamie noticed the flush of her cheeks.
“I think not Mr Tartt,” she chuckled and then was gone.
“Was that really the time Jamie?” Higgins askes and Jamie was about to snap defensively but he catches the little smile out of the corner of his eye.
“Hey gotta shoot my shot when I can you know. Never miss an opportunity me,” Jamie grinned back. This was … easy. Too easy. It was too easy to be comfortable. They fell back into silence. “Why are you here Higgins? Why did she call me your son?” Jamie asked, eyes locking onto Higgin’s and face schooled into a steely mask.
“Ah well. The doctors and nurses just assumed I was your father when I arrived and I didn’t correct that assumption. It seemed easier, people are more likely to tell you stuff when they think the young man you are visiting is your adult son,” he shrugged. “And I explained before, why I’m here. The paperwork?” Higgins prompted, clearly trying to see how much Jamie could remember. Subtle concussion checks, smart. But Jamie didn’t have a concussion, he knows the exact fuzziness that comes from a traumatic head injury and this was drugs fuzziness not that.
“Yeah I remember but a paperwork mishap might mean a call to the backroom staff at City at most or telling the hospital that we are not associated anymore as the most reasonable response. Not driving up the country for like 4 hours on the M40,” Jamie exclaimed, bunching up the thin hospital blanket in his good hand.
“I actually went on the M1 most of the way,” Higgins comments and Jamie chokes out an almost frenzied laugh.
“Oh it all makes sense now,” he bites back.
“I am a father Jamie. Five lovely boys who I care about like nothing else in this world and so when I get a call that a greyhound is hurt and alone, so alone that the only person there is to call is a distant acquaintance then believe me I am driving those 4 hours. Because even if now you tell me to fuck off which you are well within your rights to do, I can live with myself that I at least checked you were ok,” Higgins explained and Jamie was shellshocked. His eyes were wide and mouth hanging slightly open as his brain whirred and processed the emotions that Higgin’s monologue had spurred up.
“I’m not a greyhound,” Jamie muttered. He didn’t know why it was that part in particular that he chose to argue about but it was. Jamie wasn’t a greyhound. He’s not even sure he ever was really. He played for Richmond. He was their lead goalscorer, star player, but he was never a greyhound. Maybe at the ghost ritual and look at what that got him, in a truck with his stuff on his way back to the dreary skies of Manchester.
“You may not have acted like it often but that’s how the chant goes isn’t it, Richmond til I die?” Higgins shrugged. “Once a greyhound always a great hound,” he chuckled. Jamie stared back blankly with vague disapproval. “I think Ted is rubbing off on me,” Higgins added quietly.
“Seems like it,” Jamie murdered and they fell back quiet. Jamie looked down at his arm and ran the nails of his functioning arm up and down the scratchy bedsheets.
“I want you to hear me out before you laugh but I want to offer for you to come stay with me for a little bit,” Higgins broke the tense silence.
“You what mate,” Jamie gawped, unable to decide if he should laugh, smack Higgins round the head or discharge himself against medical advice. In the end he decided to just gawp.
“You look like you need a change,” Higgins smiled, Jamie just continued to stare. His brain just didn’t compute. That was such a stupid suggestion that Jamie couldn’t even come up with an acceptable response. “I hate to see someone hurt and I think you could do with some time out of Manchester while you can’t train. A little holiday so to speak, where you can relax,” he added, presumably when Jamie didn’t look like he was capable of answering.
“That’s mad,” Jamie eventually stammered out. Maybe it was the painkillers taking hold, he was on the really good stuff so this could easily be a painkiller induced fever dream. Maybe Higgins wasn’t even here and this was all some batshit hallucination. His heart was pounding and he didn’t know how to make it stop. The real crazy thing was that Jamie was actually considering it. Well maybe not going to live with Higgins or whatever, but getting out of town for a bit. Jamie didn’t need to be in Manchester for his rehab initially, the doctors were saying at least a month until any return to physical activity. A month on a Greek island? Sun, sand, alcohol, that was just what Jamie needed. So why wasn’t he able to choke out the words to tell Higgins thanks for the offer but nah mate.
“Yes it might be mad. But I still think it’s a good idea,” Higgins smiled softly. “And honestly Jamie I do not feel comfortable with you staying here when your father is still out there on the loose and, correct me if I am wrong, will likely be very mad that you are missing playing time? Plus they won’t let you leave here without someone to watch you. Potential concussion sorry lad.” Jamie tried to will the embarrassed flush away and curl up into himself but his shoulder screamed at the attempted movement.
“He’s not usually,” Jamie started but couldn’t force the half lie out of his throat, “he didn’t mean to.” That was a more comfortable half lie. His dad didn’t mean to break his arm and dislocate his shoulder. Yeah that was a likely consequence of shoving him into a doorframe and kicking him in the arm when he tried to get to his feet. But he probably didn’t intend to break anything. He wouldn’t deliberately harm Jamie’s career, that was the one constant.
“It doesn’t matter whether he meant to or not Jamie,” Higgins sighed like he was trying to teach a toddler the alphabet. Jamie guessed to other people it may seem like he was. But other people hadn’t grown up with James Tartt as a father, and as a name. It wasn’t that simple. It was never that simple. “What matters now is that you are somewhere safe and comfortable to recover.”
“I was thinking Greece,” he blurted out without thinking. Damn painkillers.
“I’m sure that would be lovely but you would be alone,” Higgins sighed. He leaned forward and rested a hand on Jamie’s knee. Each move was very clearly telegraphed and Jamie’s mind was screaming at him to flinch away or react in some negative manner but, he also wanted the comfort. He hadn’t had someone touch him gently since Keeley and even then it had not often been gentle. It had been rehearsed, or sexual. Higgins squeezed his knee and Higgins must be a magician as some of the pain and tension seeped out of Jamie with his touch. “I know you can look after yourself and you don’t need my help but it would really mean a lot to me if you took it. Both me and the wife would feel a lot better seeing that you were getting better first hand,” he smiled and Jamie felt the traitorous tears well up in his eyes again.
None of this made sense!
His brain was being stupid and the connections weren’t there again and it felt like everyone else was following along easily but Jamie was running behind the train and no matter how hard he fought he couldn’t keep up. He was just running and running and Higgins was being so nice about how stupid he was. “Woah there Jay. Breathe with me come on,” Higgins' hand was still on his knee but another came to cup his face and Jamie startled at the coldness of his fingers. Jamie could feel his chest tighten and the tears start to leak down his face but he couldn’t breathe and he just couldn’t understand. “Come on now Jamie. I need you to breathe son,” Higgins' voice was becoming more ragged, more like Jamie felt. The broken glass in his lungs scratched and tore as Jamie tried to heave in the breaths that Higgins was telling him to take. “That’s it Jamie. Breathe come on.” Jamie’s chest heaved up and down as tears were still pouring down his cheeks. So fucking weak, sobbing and breaking because someone was nice to him. But he needed it. He just needed someone to hold his hand and tell him he was ok. All Jamie could hear was his own heaving sobs but slowly he started to nod his head up and down. “I can get a nurse?” Higgins asked and started to move away. Jamie’s skin burned with the absence of the comforting touch. His hand flew out to clutch at Higgins’ sleeve. So pathetic. “Ok I’ll stay. You need to tell me what you need.”
“I wanna go,” Jamie choked out. He was in pain and drugged and tired and scared and he just didn’t want to be here anymore.
“Ok Jamie but they won’t let you out of here without someone,” Higgins started to ramble but Jamie’s frantic nodding turned into frantic head shaking.
“No I want to go with you,” he wheezed. Higgins nodded, the relief visable on his face. It was stupid. It was so stupid but Higgins was just so fucking nice. And Jamie just wanted something fucking nice for once in his life. It wouldn’t be forever. It couldn’t be forever but he just wanted it now.
Jamie wasn’t sure if he was discharged remarkably quickly or if he passed out for a bit again but before he could really think he was being wheeled out the front of the hospital and watching Higgins pull up. “Holy shit,” Jamie muttered. Higgins clambered out of a pristine, beautiful deep blue Jaguar F-Type.
“Yes, don’t judge. Julie needed the wagon for the boys so had to break this boy out of the garage,” Higgins chuckled, clearly embarrassed. But what for, that car was a beauty.
“You have a fucking jag,” Jamie muttered again, eyes transfixed on the car.
“Ah yes well Julie bought it when she took early retirement and Rupert had just given me the promotion. We don’t bring it out often as well it’s only a two seater but she’s a nice one isn’t she?” Higgins smiled and patted the roof.
“A fucking jag,” Jamie whispered again.
“Let’s get you in it shall we,” Higgins chuckled. Jamie let himself be manipulated as he stared in shock at the car. He always thought Higgins would be the kind of guy to run a Ford Mondeo until it died, not a midnight blue jag kind of guy. Jamie was still woozy on painkillers, potentially concussed and in a whole bunch of pain so getting him into the car wasn’t as easy as it could have been but eventually Jamie slumped down into the seat. Before he could even think about moving, Higgins had leant over and buckled Jamie’s seatbelt for him and closed the door. Jamie felt his throat tighten and blinked his eyes rapidly to will the tears away again. He couldn’t start crying every time someone did something nice for him. So pathetic. By the time Higgins had started the car’s beautiful purring engine, Jamie had dosed off against the window.
The beeping of the car’s Bluetooth woke Jamie up slowly. He stretched his back and winced at the pain in his shoulder. Higgins clicked his tongue and pressed a button on the console.
“Morning love,” Higgins chimed, leaning closer to the phone even though he was using the Bluetooth in the car. Jamie couldn’t help but smile at the blatant old man move. He turned his head to lean against the window to hide his face and pretend he was still asleep. Damn painkillers, lowering his defences. At least he wouldn’t be in Manchester and feeling all off and soppy and weak. His dad wouldn’t think to look for him in Richmond because it’s a batshit crazy place for Jamie Tartt to be. His phone was burning a hole in his pocket, Jamie would have to turn it back on eventually but for this car ride he could just pretend that he was going on holiday with a friend in the off season. He could pretend that everything was ok for once in his life even as the world crumbled around him.
“Hello darling, how is he?” Higgins' wife’s voice echoed out of the crackly speakers.
“Worn out the poor lad. He fell as sleep basically as soon as we got into the car and is out like a light. Although looking at the bag of drugs he’s on right now I’m not surprised,” Higgins scoffed a laugh.
“Poor thing. I’ve got the roast in the oven. Kris has taken the boys out for the day so that there’s less critters under his feet when you get in and it’s less overwhelming,” Higgin’s wife explained. Jamie pressed his head against the cool glass of the window and screwed his eyes shut in a vain attempt to stop them misting up. These damn drugs. One person is slightly kind to him and he starts blubbering like an idiot.
“You are a star. I’m sorry for throwing this on you,” Higgin’s lowers his voice, the clicking of the indicator punctuating the silence.
“I would have whacked you around the head if you had left that boy alone in the hospital Leslie,” she scolded. “I’ll see you boys in a couple of hours. Remember to stop if either of you need to,” she reminded them and then the car was quiet again. Jamie stared out of the window watching the world pass them by. The last time he was in London, he relegated AFC Richmond. Fuck all of this. Why had he said yes? He could be in Greece by now instead of on the fucking M1, not even the M40 which was a far superior road, heading towards where he was despised. The last time he was in London, Ted had found out his shameful secret and had just walked away leaving Jamie to his father’s anger. Jamie didn’t blame Ted, he really didn’t. Jamie wasn’t Ted’s responsibility then and he had been nothing but shit to the American. Ted wasn’t on the hook to do anything and so many people that maybe should have done something, had done what was right. Jamie needed the sense knocked into him. He could have scored that goal not passed. He should have converted that free kick last week. His dad was just reminding him of that. All his dad wanted him to do was to succeed, to achieve the highest of heights in football. Jamie wanted that too. But then here he was, running away to London, again, in the car of a guy who he was pretty sure hated him for justifiable reasons. Jamie still wasn’t ruling out that this whole day was some sort of lucid fever dream. But he was going to Richmond. He would have to live with whatever consequences that had.
They didn’t stop. Jamie wasn’t sure he could have got in and out of the car even if he had wanted to. But that meant far too quickly they were pulling up in front of the Higgins’ garage. Jamie just looked out of the car window and he didn’t feel … anything. He was just empty. The curtains had been closed, the lights turned off, and no one was home inside his head. He had emoted every emotion he had. The world was a haze as Higgins’ helped him up out of the car. “Oh, quick one. You are fine with dogs right?” Higgins paused with the keys in the door turning back to look at Jamie.
“Yeah? Like I’ve never had one but I like em,” Jamie muttered, brow furrowing.
“Ok good. I’ve got three and didn’t even think to warn you,” Higgins sighed, shaking his head like he had just committed the worst social offence imaginable. The door clicked open and Higgins wandered in throwing his keys into the bowl next to the shoe rack with a practiced ease. Jamie took a deep breath and stepped over the threshold.
There were immediately bundles of fur around his legs. “Oh wow ok,” Jamie stood frozen as they weaved between him.
“Sorry they smelt new blood and had to investigate!” Julie called out, hurrying into the entrance way. “Hey love,” she whispered, giving Higgins a little kiss before they both tried to grab a dog each.
“Introductions and then we’ll get you sat down for lunch,” Higgins smiled when the dogs were restrained. “This is Julie, my lovely wife and ruler of this domain,” Higgins waved one hand to Julie.
“It is lovely to properly meet you Jamie,” Julie smiles, offering her hand to shake. “I’d give you a hug but I think that might have to wait until your shoulder is a little better,” she adds as Jamie shakily takes her hand.
“Thanks, it’s nice to meet you too. I’ll try and not be in the way,” Jamie stammers.
“Oh don’t you worry sweetheart. It’ll be lovely to have another adult in the house,” she smiled and Jamie’s heart twisted again. He had been nothing but a dickhead to Higgins and had hurt the team he worked for and yet, they were acting like they actually wanted him here. Fucking mind games, but his mind was too fuzzy to work out the catch.
“You’ll meet all the lads this evening, apart from Lindsay he is a priest and has his own house and is working this weekend. The dogs, this is William Shakespaw,” Higgins scratched the back of the corgi that was vibrating in his grasp from the force of his tail wagging. “That there is Sir Arthur Canine Doyle.” he pointed at the beagle that Julie was keeping a firm grip on. “And the old lady of the house is here somewhere and she’s Mary Puppins,” Higgins explained. Jamie smiled.
“Have fun naming them did ya?” he asked quietly. Both Higgins and Julie laughed.
“Oh absolutely,” Julie smiled.