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When Taffarel saw Alisson for the first time in months during the international break, the first thing he did was sigh in relief. There were no bruises or scars scattered across Alisson's face, and he actually looked like he'd been taking care of himself. Taffarel had worried about that, even before that horrible July.
Taffarel opened his arms wide, which wasn't a difficult feat with his long wingspan, and smiled warmly. "It's been a while, hasn't it, Ali?"
Alisson's eyes widened ever so slightly, as if part of him couldn't believe that Taffarel was a few feet in front of him, before plunging into Taffarel's open arms. "Taffa..."
For the better part of three minutes, the younger keeper cried while in Taffarel's embrace, as if the older keeper were a lifeline, without saying a word. Taffarel didn't need to ask why; they both knew.
Alisson pulled away, brushing away the remaining tears in an attempt to pull himself together. "I...I missed you."
"So did I."
"Lucho left, and Darwin left, and even Edi left. Even Kostas is on loan! We don't have the Latino Reds anymore, and...we should have."
"I know, I know. I'm sorry." Taffarel ruffled Alisson's hair in what he hoped was a comforting way. He wanted to pry further into his mental state, but Bento and Hugo Souza would be coming in two minutes to discuss strategy for the Chile match, and this was definitely a one-on-one conversation. He needed to change the subject.
"So...tell me about that Arsenal game. How'd it feel to see Domi's goal up close?"
Just a bit, the grey cloud over Alisson lifted, and the air around the cafeteria was a touch less lugubrious. "Well, we had the free kick..."
*
"Aha!" Taffarel paused the highlights reel for what had to be the umpteenth time. He couldn't help it — some of his best ideas for dealing with the opponents' strategies came while watching their highlights.
He grabbed his beleaguered tactics notebook, scuffed and marked from how frequently he'd used it, and frantically scribbled down his rapidly gushing thoughts. "A low block, and visibility on the right post, and...é isso!"
With a satisfied click, Taffarel dropped the notebook into his desk drawer and locked it with the key he always had with him. The tactics were ready, and it wasn't a crazy hour like two or three in the morning. Now he could finally go to bed...or at least he thought.
Thud, thud, thud, went footsteps in the hallway. It was far too late for even the younger players to be out of their rooms, so to hear footsteps was a surprise to Taffarel. He frowned, shut his laptop, and decided to investigate.
Taffarel traced the sound of the footsteps to the kitchen, which was illuminated by a clear yet harsh white light. Somebody had turned up the dimmer to the highest level--why, he had no idea. Upon looking through the doorframe, he found Alisson pacing around the island counter with his phone in hand.
"What are you doing up so late?"
Alisson froze and guiltily looked up from his phone, the device's blue light rendering his blue-green eyes even bluer. "I can't sleep."
Taffarel sighed in dismay, dimming the lights to something less eyeball-frying. Alisson's confession was the only confirmation he needed that whatever progress Alisson had made in therapy over the past year had taken a gulf-sized step backwards.
He smiled wryly, although it was more of a grimace, and started to fill the teakettle. "What's on your mind?"
Alisson hesitated. "It's stupid."
Taffarel crossed his arms and shot Alisson a look. "You know what I'm going to say."
"I do. It's just that..." Alisson sank into a chair at the counter, his head in his hands. "I can't stop checking the news, or sending messages to everyone to make sure they're okay, or checking the weather to see if there's any potential problems. During our team Zoom calls, I feel like I have to check if somebody else's stove is on, or if their device cables won't trip them, or if all their cars' tires and everything are okay. I can't stop because I feel like I have to keep doing it, or something horrible's going to happen."
"Deus..." Taffarel shook his head and opened a cabinet, reaching for a familiar box of tea. He'd dealt with his share of stress and nerves as a player, but it had never been like this. "You should talk about this with Adele."
Alisson sighed and rechecked his phone. Now that the lights weren't glaringly bright, Taffarel could see exhaustion etched into Alisson's expression, from the corners of his eyes to the way his shoulders drooped. "Adele retired last June, while we were on international break. And Dr. Staraniker's been so busy giving all of us therapy. She doesn't need another problem on her hands."
"How long has this been going on?"
"Since this last international break started. It's one thing when everybody's together and I know what's going on, but when we're apart..."
"It's great that you're checking on everybody you care about, and it's even better that you're taking preventative measures to make sure everybody's safe. But..." Taffarel paused as the kettle whistled, demanding his attention before it woke up everybody else. He took the kettle off the stove and poured the water between two mugs, then added teabags from the box he'd taken from the cabinet. "When you're doing it that much, it gets tiring, doesn't it?"
Alisson nodded, looking like he would burst into tears just like he'd done earlier. "If I don't do it, I get anxious and start to panic. Virgil, Cody, and Ryan just played a match, and I know they won't be able to answer their phones right away, but I haven't heard from them since a few hours before their game, and part of me keeps worrying that something's wrong. Is something wrong with me, Taffa? Am I going crazy?"
"What?! Of course not! I mean, this is tiring you out, and I'd feel way better about it if you got some help, but you're not crazy or anything. Don't tell yourself that." Taffarel slid one of the mugs across the counter to Alisson. He held the other between his hands, feeling the warmth radiate into his palms through his arms, and took a long sip of the brew. "Years and years ago, somebody told me that life is like gymnastics."
Alisson looked confused. "How?"
"Both teach you to bend, not break. That's resilience." Taffarel sat across from Alisson and clasped his free hand in his. "You're a kind person who cares about those he loves, and you and everybody around you are dealing with tragedy. It's normal to be more anxious than usual."
"But it feels like this is going to run me into the ground."
"It won't," Taffarel reassured him, squeezing his hand. "You said it yourself--you and the rest of the team are going through this together. That helps, because you don't feel like you're alone. You won't be able to go through a sleepless night worrying if Mo's shoving herbal tea into your hands and insisting you make yourself some; Robbo can't feel lonely if you're sitting with him at breakfast and high-fiving him in training. It goes for all of you. And one of these days, you're going to look back and realise just how important it was that you leaned on each other. Okay?"
"Well..." Alisson caught himself about to reach for his phone, but pulled his hand away with a resigned sigh. "Okay."
"Muito bem." Taffarel glanced into Alisson's mug, shaking his head upon seeing it was still full. "Now drink your tea. It's got lavender and peppermint, it should help you sleep."
Alisson complied, and his eyes widened as the full flavour hit his palate. "It's really nice. Where'd you get it?"
"A friend of mine recommended it to me when I was playing. I still use it now and then when I'm too anxious to sleep." Taffarel took the box from the counter and showed it to Alisson. "You don't want to take this more than you need to, though. Just enough to help you without you becoming too dependent. I made that mistake once, and once I didn't need to take it every night, I couldn't sleep on my own."
Alisson studied the teabox and nodded. "I think I'll buy some of this when I get home. Some of the others may want to try it as well. Virg would like the mint in it."
"That's the spirit." Taffarel's expression softened as he watched Alisson drink his tea, his shoulders untensing just a bit. "You know, I'm proud of you. I'm proud of the whole team. When things like this happen, we don't just 'get over' it. But you're all doing the right things. You're supporting each other, taking things one step at a time, and keeping Diogo's memory and spirit alive. Keep doing that."
"Tha--" A long yawn cut Alisson off, and he sighed in relief. "Thanks, Taffa. I missed you."
Taffarel smiled warmly and took the mug from Alisson. "So did I. Now, go to sleep. Tomorrow, we play Chile, and I'm looking forward to seeing you break a new record."
Alisson, too sleepy to give his usual argument about how nothing was set in stone, mumbled something close to an agreement as he plodded out of the kitchen. "Boa noite."