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The team have been playing well coming through the hard June and July run. As the weather heated up, the games felt longer and longer, stretching into the late Texan nights.
Karkat tried not to let that bother him, suiting up and knuckling down every night, hitting ball after ball, trying to push the team further through the season.
The days eked into August, firmly in the midst of summer, when the sun would hang low in the sky, seemingly touching the field with a golden wash over the entire stadium. Karkat had always been thankful not to be an outfielder, content as ever behind home plate, but the heavy summer season made this all the more prevalent. Vriska complained about it enough, stuck out in right field, trying to catch fly balls with the sun beaming directly into her eyes.
The Alternian State University Wood Ducks were in a good spot and as long as they continued the run they were on, they were a shoe-in for the playoffs.
This made every game more and more electric, and nerve-wracking. This was mirrored in the general interest as the audience continued to grow along with the stakes.
The roaring atmosphere was cutting right down to Karkat’s bones when he hit the field for his first at bat.
He was staring down the pitcher, with his bat swung high up by his head, kicking his feet in the dirt slightly, situating himself. He planted his cleats down into the ground, and watched for the ball.
The first ball went whistling by his head, barely scratching the strike zone for a ball. The second went through the middle for a strike. The third fell low, dipping way below the zone, and that was when Karkat suddenly felt a sudden pain searing through his ankle. He instinctively tipped forward under the sudden pressure to his leg, throwing his hands out to catch him. He breathed heavily out of his nose, as he hit the ground hard, trying to avoid inhaling the large amounts of dust he managed to kick up from the batters box.
This, of course, was to no avail, as he breathed in large amounts of dirt anyway, sending him into a coughing fit.
This moment probably won’t continue to haunt him for the rest of his life.
He finally managed to clear his lungs of debris, and he looked up, greeted by the eyes of his coach.
He tried to smile at him, but it probably came out as more of a grimace. He then tried to pull himself onto his leg, putting light pressure onto his fucked up ankle. A sharp pain shot through his leg. He stumbled slightly trying to catch himself on his arms.
His coach shakes his head slightly at that, sighing heavily. “You had to get yourself into a situation didn’t you,”
“Not like I put my leg in the way of the ball, did I now?” Karkat said haughtily, testing his foot again. Weirdly, the injury didn’t go away in the thirty seconds he left between the last time he put weight on it.
“You can’t play,” His coach said decisively.
“Yes I fucking can, you can’t pull me now,” Karkat said, “We’re this close to making playoffs as long as we keep playing like we do, you can’t just pull me,”
“You’ll just injure your ankle more if you keep playing,” His coach said, already gesturing over Meulin, their secondary catcher, from the bench to get on first base for the walk they pulled from Karkat getting hit.
“You’re shitting me,” Karkat said, mouth agape.
His coach just shrugged, seemingly unaffected by Karkat’s plight, pulling him up from the dirt and beginning to half lift, half drag him over to the dugout.
He was pushed onto the bench against the wall of the dugout, and was handed a compression bandage for his leg, along with an ice pack, with instructions to elevate it for now.
Karkat leant back against the wall, a little put off by the sudden turn everything seemed to have taken in only the 2nd inning.
He felt a weight fall next to him and Sollux sat down to his right. Karkat huffed out a sigh, sending him a small tight lipped smile. “Can you believe they pulled me, what a load of dickeating motherfuckers,” He said, quiet enough to not be heard outside of their little bubble in the corner of the dugout.
“Yes, I can’t believe they wouldn’t let you hobble around on a basically shattered ankle,” Sollux said, dryly.
“It is my right to hobble wherever the fuck I please, thank you very much,” Karkat said.
“Of course, I forgot that was possible in the game which consists of like 40 percent running,” Sollux said, incredulously.
“I’m a catcher, so it’s more like 30 percent!”
“My mistake man, they should let you out there, may as well get you in as a pinch runner as well.”
Karkat sighed, leaning back again. “This sucks,”
Sollux just shrugs, going back to watching the game, watching Nepeta ground out into a double play.
“We’ll be fine KK, we need you more for the Playoffs anyway,” Sollux said, turning over to Karkat as the next inning was setting up, getting up to walk over to the pitcher's mound.
Karkat just nodded, miserably.
Karkat quietly watched, only kind of sulking while the next inning played out. His ankle sort of ached, and he just wanted to be playing baseball instead of uselessly hiding away in the dugout.
He finished the game like that, watching listlessly from the side, getting more and more frustrated as the game managed to fall into an exhausting 2-1 loss.
- - - - - - - - - - - - -
Basically the minute the game was over, he was whisked to a medic, to be poked and prodded at for about ten minutes, before announcing that it was just a sprained ankle and he would only be out for two weeks.
“Two weeks,” Karkat said, affronted, “Are you sure?”
“If you don’t want to injure it more, then yes,” The medic responded firmly.
“That’s fine, there’s only the fucking playoffs to work for, sure, we’re barely at the top of the league! We can’t afford to slip if we want to get to October. But sure, let me sit out for two fucking weeks, are you joking?” Karkat squawked.
The medic looked impassive as they shrugged, “That’s the diagnosis, just try to keep weight off it, when you can, and in two weeks you can play again,”
Karkat sighed frustratedly, gnawing the inside of his cheek, before resigning himself to taking the ankle brace from the medic, and limping out of the room.
He was then hit with a faceful of Dave, when he managed to walk, unceremoniously into him.
“Oh hey babe, was just looking for you,” Dave started, “Saw you get hit, which like, didn’t look great, so I was asking around, using my ex mascot privileges to get in and about to look for you. Anyways, Sollux said you’d be here,”
Karkat leant forwards onto Dave’s chest, who just wrapped an arm around his shoulders.
“I’m out for two weeks, which is such bullshit, Iwas barely tapped by the ball, but apparently if I don’t rest it it will just ‘continue to get worse’,”
“I don’t want to side with the doctors here, because, Karkat all the way and all, but I can’t help but think the medical professional may be right.”
“No, you’re meant to be by my side implicitly. Don’t do this,”
Dave just shrugged, “I don’t know man, 94 Miles per hour is pretty fast, if you ask me. Car speed level ball to the ankle might be a point for concern. Just a hunch. An inkling if you will.”
“Whatever, did you manage to wrangle Sollux into driving us home,”
“Hell yeah man,” Dave said, before whisking Karkat away with him to Karkat’s car that he drove to the field.
- - - - - - - - - - - -
They both climbed into the backseat, where Sollux and Karkat’s gearbag were piled up.
“Oh hey, thanks for getting my bag,” Karkat said.
Sollux just shrugged at that, in a no big deal kind of way. He then twisted around to the backseat, “So what’s the diagnosis then,”
“Two weeks, sprained ankle,”
“Oh, that’s not too bad,”
“Are you joking, right in the middle of the playoff run, may as well be a full month. I can’t believe they couldn’t have done this a month ago when the games barely mattered,”
“We have other catchers KK. the weight of the baseball team isn’t yours to bear or whatever the fuck you’re thinking.”
“Yeah but this hasn’t helped,” Karkat mumbled, leaning tiredly against Dave’s arm.
Sollux began driving out of the carpark, not answering Karkat’s dejected comment. He slowly weaves past the attendees of the game, trying not to scrape the side of the car against another, or the wall.
Karkat just stared out the window, watching the sky darken, punctuating the end of the game, as the moon just began to peak over the top of the baseball stadium.
- - - - - - - - - - - - -
Karkat walked down to his apartment, with Dave’s arm wrapped around the small of his back, trying to steady him as they walked down the hallway, past the nondescript doors of the other apartments, getting to Karkat and Sollux’s.
They walk into the quiet of the dining room, lights still off, and curtains up, leaving the place awash in a slight silvery glow. Dave slid Karkat’s bag off his shoulder to drop onto the sofa in the centre of the room, to deal with tomorrow, leading Karkat to his room.
Karkat runs through his short night routine, trying to shift his weight onto his uninjured ankle.
He collapsed into the bed next to Dave, propping his leg up on the pile of pillows that Dave had set up at the end of the bed. “I can’t fucking believe it, what am I meant to do for two weeks if I’m not playing baseball,”
Dave looked at him apologetically, running his hand through Karkat’s hair, “I don’t know man, you got a free baseballess two weeks, maybe this is a chance to find yourself, you’re more than the baseball babe. You got a whole degree that you are also doing. Don’t think I haven’t forgotten about the degree.”
“I guess I have that degree I’m doing,” Karkat mumbled, leaning into Dave’s hand, still carding through his hair, scratching at the back of his scalp. Karkat felt the day drain out of him, letting his eyes slip close, to the sound of Dave’s voice.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - -
The first four days with no baseball dragged on. Karkat was going to classes, doing his schoolwork, and working his way through his small pile of DVDs.
He was about halfway through his collection now.
Sollux had just left for a game and Karkat tried not to glare at him too much while he was packing his bag to go.
- - - - - - - - - -
Dave had come over about an hour after Sollux left and was sitting cross legged on the sofa next to Karkat, with his laptop on his knees, working through the massive slog of emails he always had. Karkat was flopped limply onto the couch, with his foot elevated on the arm, staring at the TV playing a random baseball game that he flipped onto, because the White Sox weren’t playing
The Diamondbacks just scored, which he guessed was neat. Anything to ruin a Yankees day.
The room was relatively silent, with only the noise of the announcer on the game, and Dave mumbling under his breath quietly, as he read through his emails.
It was bound to be interrupted sooner or later.
There was a knock at the door and the growing sound of voices, crescendoing as the door flew open and a large group of baseball players fell into the room.
“What the fuck,” Karkat whispered.
“What game is this?” Vriska asked, flopping down in the armchair beside the sofa.
“Sure yeah, just make yourself at home, Sollux what the fuck,”
Sollux just shrugged apologetically.
“No one’s heard from you for three days Karkitty,” Nepeta said, “We thought you’d gone missing,”
“No one thought that, I literally live with one of you.”
“He can lie, well known liar, Sollux Captor,” John piped up, settling down in front of the sofa, looking up at the TV screen.
The rest of the team settled around him, dropping various offerings of food and beverages onto the coffee table in front of them. Karkat was resigned to his fate, watching the way too small apartment filling up, already hearing complaints about the game he had chosen to put on.
“We’re not watching anything with the fucking Cubs are you guys joking,” Karkat cut in through the noise, at Vriska, who was holding the remote loosely in her hand, before she could mess with the buttons on it.
He switched onto a hopefully safer Red Sox game, ignoring the indignant shouts from the singular Yankees fan in the room, because Karkat didn’t really believe they deserved an opinion.
He let himself be shoved to the side slightly, as Dave moved into the middle of the couch, settling in against Karkat, careful to keep his foot relatively still and elevated, letting Nepeta squish into the side of the couch next to them. Karkat laid back and watched the game, knowing his living room was about to become too warm, with the bodies, and the noise nearing too loud for him.
What could he do, besides settle in next to Dave, head in his lap, and watch the stupid baseball game with his friends.
- - - - - - - - - - - -
Dave was making Karkat attend a game. Karkat had yet to attend one yet, knowing the game would lead to more itching under his skin, wanting nothing more than to play some fucking baseball. It had been a week and a half since he sprained his ankle and he was basically vibrating around his apartment, throwing himself into his classes, trying not to think about what he was missing at that moment.
So when Dave mentioned going to the next ASU Wood Ducks game, Karkat almost refused, not wanting to go and watch his friends play without him.
Of course, when you’re Karkat Vantas it doesn’t really matter what you want, because your life is a cosmic joke. That’s how he ended up in a baseball stadium, watching the team he plays for, playing a game without him.
He went and shrunk into the seats, while Dave walked off to get them some drinks, and tried to avoid the sympathetic looks from the surrounding people in the stands. He shifted his hat slightly lower on his face, blocking out the faces from the peripherals, trying to stay overly focused on the field in front of him.
Dave dropped down next to him, offering out a can of lager which Karkat took gratefully. Dave had some overly sweet, pink, canned monstrosity which he was joyfully digging into.
“I don’t understand how you can enjoy that shit,” Karkat said, looking at it disgusted, “It tastes like a tin of corn syrup had a child with a double A battery.”
“And it’s man's greatest gift to the earth, if you don’t get it I can’t explain it to you Karkat, you’re the one drinking yeast piss or whatever that is. AJ is the only piss coloured beverage in my heart babe. You’re trying to get me to have an affair with a very serious relationship in my life. I won’t stand for it.”
“I guess. But when you can’t sleep later, because you’ve consumed at least 200 milligrams of caffeine, and about your weight in sugar, don’t come crying to me.
Dave just shrugs, getting quickly shut up by the first pitch, which quickly enraptured Karkat’s attention.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
7 innings and three beers later, Karkat was having a great time, heckling the other team, and the dogshit refs, and Vriska when she struck out. The Wood Ducks were leading 3-0 and Karkat couldn’t be happier.
“Come on, my fucking 2 year old niece could tell that was a ball, do your fucking job,” Karkat yelled down, when Feferi was struck out, welcoming another ending for the inning.
The 8th inning is when Karkat’s day was ruined. The bases were loaded, and the opposing team's next player came out to the batters box. Karkat was gnawing the inside of his cheek, leaning forwards in his seat. Eridan winded up his arm, and threw a fastball through the centre of the strike zone, and it was sent neatly off the batters bat into the stands in the opposite side of the field.
Karkat sat, staring agape at the ball, as the opposing teams batters celebrated down by the dugout.
“Hey, babe, they’ve still got like, another inning give it a minute before you start dooming,”
“I will doom as much as I damn well please,” Karkat snapped back, sighing, and getting up. “I’m getting another drink,”
Dave just shrugged, “Sure, get me another too though,”
Karkat nodded, walking off to find a bar weaving through the stands, between the next two innings.
When he got back to his seat with the two drinks, the next inning had already started.
He watched Gamzee up to bat, on the off chance they could bring it back, after that absolutely miserable eighth inning.
- - - - - - - - - - - - -
They did not bring it back. They did not bring it back at all.
The game ended 4-3 with three consecutive strike outs.
Karkat didn’t think sinking lower in his seat would be possible. The sympathetic looks increased tenfold, with a healthy smattering of gloating from fans of the opposite team.
Dave had to manhandle him from his seat, bringing them down to the clubhouse.
“That was the most miserable fucking game I’ve ever seen, and I’ve lived 21 years as a White Sox fan,” Karkat announced upon entering the clubhouse.
“Hello to you to,” Sollux huffed, “We know it was a shitshow, it’s one game,”
“Just needed you all to know where I stand,”
“Oh we could guess,” Vriska said from the side.
Karkat just shrugged, “Whatever, I’m back in two days, I’ve been cleared,”
Everyone looked up at that, Karkat looked around, half meeting everyone’s eyes.
“That’s great Karkat,” Nepeta said, grinning.
Karkat shrugged, rolling his shoulders back.
“So you better get your shit together by the time I’m back guys, we are going to the playoffs,”
A resounding cheer went up around the clubhouse, Karkat couldn’t even try to hide the grin on his face, as he looked back towards Dave, who smiled back, small and closed lipped back at Karkat.
Karkat grabbed Dave’s hand, waving goodbye at his teammates before dragging Dave out to the bus stop, to go back to his apartment.