Chapter Text
Jamie Tartt's bed was empty when he woke.
It wasn't an unusual occurrence lately, especially during his second go-around at AFC Richmond, but it still had him wishing for a companion – or two, to help warm the bed this late December morning.
His alarm read 6:59 AM as he turned it off. Long gone, along with the bed warming companions, were the daily 4 AM wake-ups, now that Roy was manager and they were playing additional Champions League matches and Jamie was kept busy during the International Breaks with duty for England. His World Cup jersey sat framed on one of the walls of the office down the hall, proof of the blood, sweat, and tears put into those early morning training sessions around Richmond.
Jamie would never admit it, but he desperately missed those 4 AM trainings. Maybe not the wakeup time or falling asleep in every other team meditation (nor the fines that went with that), but the time spent just him and Roy before the sun came up. Everything was simpler then as if they were the only two in the world; he didn't have to think, he could turn his brain off and trust Roy to do what was best for him, even if it made him puke. At first, he thought he was doing what was best for the team, and he was, but bit by bit, Jamie realised Roy was also doing what was best for him.
Okay, maybe it was Keeley that actually pointed that out to him, but the important thing was Jamie realised it now.
Maybe he just missed Roy.
Things were different now that Roy was manager. Since the promotion, he and Jamie had struggled to find a balance in their friendship. It was different when the grumpy old twat was only an assistant coach, but now he was the gaffer, and they struggled between worrying Jamie was taking advantage of their friendship and Roy being too difficult on Jamie in an attempt not to show favouritism.
They were still finding their footing. It had been nice to be together in Qatar, where they could simply be current England player and former England player without the power imbalance – ad occasional giggles – that followed them around at Nelson Road.
Jamie dressed quickly and locked his front door behind him as he started on a quick 5K to start the day. Roy was too busy to train him – and yes, Roy was correct, he did need more rest this season, so he didn't burn out – but it didn't mean he couldn't get in his own quick workout.
Back at home, twenty-two minutes later, Jamie quickly showered, but didn't wash his hair. He had morning training in an hour and would shower again with shampoo and conditioner; no need to dry his hair out faster than he needed to. Jamie kept his same routine each day, but today wasn't any other day. Today was Christmas day, and that meant half-day training, then Secret Santa and then Mummy and Simon would be down, ready to celebrate the day and then attend the Boxing Day match tomorrow.
At least that was the plan.
"Hi Mummy," Jamie answered happily in the car when Mummy popped up on the Apple CarPlay. "Happy Christmas!"
Coughing filled the speakers before his Mum's voice came followed through, raspy and low and so unlike her nomally happy accent. "Jamie, baby, I'm sorry. Simon and me are sick as dogs. We're not going to make it down for Christmas."
Jamie tried to push away the disaspoint that crept through him. He was looking forward to seeing his parents and felt worse that they were sick.
"Do you need anything?" Jamie asked. "I can come up after training, or Deliveroo some stuff over. Send a doctor. What can I do?"
"Noth–" more coughing, "–nothing, baby. And don't you dare drive up here. You have a match tomorrow, and we cannot get you sick. We are fine. Probably just going to snuggle on the settee and watch old movies."
"Are you sure?" Jamie asked, biting at his nail before he realised and forced his hand down. "I–"
"Yes, my sexy little angel baby. Thank you, but we will be fine. You have people you can spend the day with? Roy? Or Keeley? Or the team?"
Jamie mentally ran down the list of possibilities. "Yeah, yeah, I'm mint. I'll be good. You call me if you need anything, yeah?"
"I will. Love you, baby. Tell everyone Merry Christmas from us, yeah?"
"I will. My love to Simon," Jamie said as they both hung up and he pulled into the Nelson Road training ground.
He sighed loudly as he shifted his car into park, unable to hide his disappointment now that he was off the phone. He hadn't seen Mummy in months. Well, he saw her in Qatar at the World Cup, but he was so busy with the team, and they didn't have too much time, except a little after each match. Roy Kent being Roy Kent, had gotten better access to the grounds than families did. He hated that she and Simon were sick, and he was so far away. When he was little and sick, Mummy would tuck him up under a blanket on the couch, and they'd watch his favourite movies, and he'd feel better in no time.
Now he was four hours away.
He didn't really care that it was Christmas. Mummy and Simon could get their presents whenever, but he was looking forward to Simon's cooking, which would be a combination of nutritionally approved modifications Simon worked on for weeks and other Coach Kent-approved cheat day treats.
"Hola, Jamie, Merry Christmas," Dani greeted him when he walked into the changing room, the frown on his face immediately turning upside down at the sight of his friend.
"Feliz Navidad," Jamie returned the greeting as he dropped his bag into his locker and acknowledged the rest of his teammates as well.
Training went by quickly, and though Jamie was distracted; he tried his best to hide it.
"You alright?" Coach Beard asked as they walked towards the dressing room.
"Good, yeah, you?"
Beard stopped at the entrance to his office. "Merry Christmas, Jamie."
"Merry Christmas, Coach."
Jamie moved on autopilot: undress, shower, shampoo, conditioner, body wash, dry off, wait for Isaac to call the Secret Santa proceedings to order. He was distracted again, searching through his phone trying to find someplace open on Christmas to deliver something – anything, to Mummy and Simon to cheer them up.
His phone was in his pocket, but his mind was still running through the possibilities when he was shaken from his daydream by an elbow to his ribs.
"Hey, what was that–" Jamie cut off as Sam nodded towards where Jeff stood in front of Isaac, waiting not very patiently for his gift.
"Oops, sorry!" Jamie said as he jumped from his seat to bring the gift bag to his friend.
"Thanks, Jamie!" Jeff said, looking relieved that whoever had drawn him for Secret Santa hadn't forgotten about him.
You accidentally leave a guy in Japan once, and he never lets the team forget it.
"You're welcome, mate. Don't drink it all at once," Jamie grinned at Jeff as he put the expensive bottle of whiskey Jamie had gotten him back in the gift bag.
After the Secret Santa Incident of 2020, Jamie did not forget another Secret Santa gift, though he still thought there should be a better name for it.
A lot had changed in the two years since that fateful Christmas.
AFC Richmond was back in its rightful place in the Premier League. Ted was gone; back to America and his son, Henry. Roy Kent gave up his short-lived career as a pundit for a much more fulfilling life as an assistant coach and now manager of the Greyhounds. Jamie was back on good terms with Mummy, back on good terms with Kelley, and most importantly, back on good terms with the team.
"Are you sure you don't want to come to the Higgins' house?" Declan asked from beside him.
"Yeah, yeah, I'm good. That's just for the players with no family around, innit," Jamie told him.
Though that wasn't necessarily true, at least anymore. The party had evolved to an all-day open house, and even local players like Isaac or Colin, who usually spent the day with Isaac's family, made it a point to stop by and spend at least some time with the team. Last year, Mummy and Simon drove down, so Jamie celebrated the day with them and would have this year if both weren't sick and stuck at home in Manchester.
Jamie could go to the Higgins' house, he could, he knew that, but – well, he wasn't sure what was keeping him from it now that he would be alone.
"Are you going to see Keeley?" Sam asked from Jamie's other side.
Jamie craned his neck into the manager's office, where he saw Keeley throwing her head back in a laugh with Roy, Nate, Rebecca and Beard. He felt his lips twitch as he watched her. Keeley Jones was one of the best things to ever happen to him. They weren't together anymore, but they were friends, and after his and Roy's disastrous attempt to win her like a prize in May, he was lucky to be friends with her at all.
"Nah, just me Mum and Simon," he lied.
He wasn't sure why he did it, but he felt weird deciding to go last-minute, as if that was the only reason.
"What about Coach? Are you seeing him, amigo?" Dani asked from the other side of Sam.
"Nah, I think he's just spending it with his sister and Phoebe."
The three exchanged looks, and Jamie didn't even try to pretend to decipher what they meant before they were all distracted, cheering as the next person was called to present their present. The rest of the team finished exchanging gifts, Jamie leaving with a bottle of wine that Richard promised would be the best wine he had ever tasted. Jamie wasn't so sure about that. He didn't much care for wine, but he trusted Richard – with wine at least, although part of him wasn't convinced it wasn't a bottle filled with Richard's farts. No matter how many apologies he offered for that, he wasn't sure Montlaur forgave him.
Maybe because he didn't really mean it, it was funny after all. Jamie Tartt might be a changed man, but cupping a fart in someone's face would never not be funny.
"You really think we can get Javier Guerrero?" Nate asked as Jamie stuck his head into the Coach's office.
Javier Guerrero? He played for Real Madrid and was one of the best defenders in La Liga, maybe the world.
"Tartt, do you need something?" Roy questioned, interrupting his thoughts.
Keeley and Rebecca had dispersed, leaving only the coaching staff and Higgins.
"Why're we signing Javier Guerrero?" Jamie asked before he thought better of it.
The group exchanged looks, and Jamie tried to ignore the memories of another time he offered concern about signing a new player, blinking away the sour feeling festering in his belly.
"We're just talking about it. No decisions have been made yet," Roy admitted, and Jamie ignored the nauseau building, too. "Do you need something?"
"Uh, just wanted to know when you were heading out."
Roy checked his watch. "20 minutes? We're just finishing up some business. What can I help with?"
"Nothing," Jamie said. He wanted to give Roy his Christmas gift, but not in front of everyone else. "Merry Christmas, all. I'll see you tomorrow. Cheers."
Jamie turned on his heel and left before there was any objection from Roy. He tried not to be disappointed that there wasn't.
Jamie might not have been able to give Roy his gift yet, but he ran into Keeley in the car park. Not that he needed to hide giving Keeley a gift, but it saved him a stop.
"Keeley! Keeley!" Jamie called after her before as she had a chance to open her car door.
"Hi Jamie," she beamed at him, and Jamie tried not to notice the warmth that spread through him at that smile. "Merry Christmas!"
"Merry Christmas. I, uh, I got you a present, hold on."
Jamie jogged over to his car, grabbing the gift bag from the backseat, leaving the other three that were there.
"You didn't have to get me something," Keeley said, appearing next to him. Jamie was never sure how she managed to move so fast on those heels. "I feel bad. I didn't get you anything. I'm sorry."
Things had slowly gotten back to normal between them after the incident in May, but Jamie still felt a looming guilt anytime he hung out with Keeley alone or saw her with Roy.
Jamie tried to brush her off. "It's more of a thank you for everything you've done for me this year. Being the best publicist ever, an amazing friend, and you know, forgiving me for – for you know."
Keeley's chin dropped to her chest. "Jamie, I told you, that's behind us. I thought we moved on from that?"
"We did, we did," Jamie stammered, still amazed at how Keeley had this effect on him after all these years. "Just take it. It's nothing – ah, just take it. Please."
Jamie shoved the gift bag at her, and she gratefully took it into her arms.
"Okay," Keeley said, giving the smile that always did in his carefully built defences. "Do you want me to open it now?"
"Nah, you can open it later. Like I said, it's nothing."
Keeley stretched on her tiptoes to kiss him on the cheek. "Well, thank you, Jamie. I appreciate you. And it's not nothing if you took the time to pick something out for me. Are your Mum and Simon coming down?"
"Yeah, yeah, Simon's probably cooking up a storm as we speak. What about you?"
"I'm going to Rebecca's with Barbara for a bit, and then we'll probably stop by the Higgins'. My mum's in Bora Bora, so," Keeley shrugged. "It's nice."
Keeley laughed.
"Well, I'd better get home to help," Jamie said. "See you tomorrow."
"Merry Christmas, babe."
"Merry Christmas, Keeley."
Jamie waited in his car for fifteen minutes, but Roy's G-Wagon remained stubbornly driverless. He turned back to stare at the three gift bags in the back seat. He had gotten Keeley two presents – Roy as well. One, just thoughtful enough, and one, well, one that was a little bit trickier. He had chickened out with Keeley, not giving her the smaller one in the pink bag with a lighter colored pink Christmas tree on it and sparkly bulbs filled with the bottle of perfume she mentioned that reminded her of her favourite Aunt. Instead, he gave her the white bag with the pink and silver sparkles with the stupidly expensive moisturising crème she hated buying for herself.
Roy had been trickier.
Jamie knew it would be hard to outdo himself after the Kunt kit, so he hadn't tried. One bag held one of Jamie's World Cup kits, a thank you for getting him on the stage he had dreamt about his whole life. The other was a framed picture of Roy, Ruth, Phoebe and him at a recent match, Phoebe showing off her Tartt kit. They both seemed woefully inadequate. He exhaled loudly, puffed his chest, grabbed the framed picture and left it at the driver's side door of the Mercedes, then jogged back to his car and drove away.
He didn't see Roy opening it in his rear-view mirror.
Jamie spent the rest of Christmas Day on his couch, watching old matches and highlights of Fulham, their Boxing Day opponents. By the time Roy's name – or Grumpy Old Twat – showed up on his caller ID, Jamie had almost forgotten it was Christmas.
"Hi Jamie!" Phoebe greeted once the FaceTime connected.
She was all decked out to celebrate both Christmas and the second-to-last night of Hanukkah.
"Hi Phoebs," Jamie waved back. "Happy Christmas! Happy Hanukkah!"
"Thank you, Jamie, same to you. Hey, what is always coming but never arrives?" Phoebe asked.
She had taken to asking Jamie riddles from a new book Jamie had given her for her birthday the month before, every time he saw her or they FaceTimed. Jamie paused to think. Some of them were easy, some he would never get, even if he was given a million years to guess.
"A river?" Jamie guessed.
"Oh, that's a really good guess, Jamie, but that's not it," Phoebe told him. "The answer is tomorrow."
"Oh, that's a good one, Phoebs! I'll have to remember that one."
Sometimes Jamie would ask Mummy and Simon the ones he liked the best from Phoebe. Or Keeley, if he remembered them further.
"Thank you for the gift," Roy chimed in.
"Oh yeah, it's nothing," Jamie wagged a dismissive hand.
"I didn't get to give you yours."
"You're really going to like it, Jamie," Phoebe added.
"Did you help pick it out?"
Phoebe's face lit up. "I did!"
Ruth waved from the background, but they eventually hung up so they could eat, and Jamie was a bit relieved. Then sad. Then relieved again. He could have told them that Mummy and Simon were sick, and they would've invited him over. He knew that. He did. He just – felt weird, though he knew he shouldn't and then he felt weird for that, too.
Jamie could've gone to the Higgins', it wasn't like he had to RSVP, it was an open house, but that felt wrong, too.
Instead, he pushed his guilt aside and went for another run. They only had a half day of training, so he wasn't overdoing it, he told the grumpy voice that sounded suspiciously like his gaffer already admonishing him in his head.
Jamie smiled as he realised it started to snow when he stepped out the front door, glad he remembered his gloves and hat. His headlamp was still in his bag, but he'd be fine; it was dark, but he'd stay to the sidewalks and houses were lit up with Christmas lights anyway.
He didn't take into account that the snow would make the roads slippery as he crossed the street. He didn't take into account how the headphones drowned out the noise around him.
Jamie didn't take any of it into account when the car slammed into him, and the darkness and pain overwhelmed him.