Chapter Text
The first time she has an asthma attack, she’s 16 and just stolen home base.
(Her Dad nearly looses his shit. It’s the first time she’s ever seen Bill Baker be so fucking scared about something.)
She doesn’t remember much about the event itself; just a tightness in her chest that wouldn’t go away no matter how many times she sucked in large amounts of air and the distinct feeling of her heart beating faster and faster with each passing second. (Her Dad later said her lips went so blue so fast and if it hadn’t been for the inhaler in the first aid kit, he would have called 911.)
Her doctor says she’s only got a mild form of asthma - that the risk of having frequent attacks is low and it’s really only gonna be a problem if she pushes herself harder than she usually would with any kind of physical activity. He gives her an inhaler and some meds to take long term and levels her with a look. “This will only be a problem if you let it be one, Ginny.”
(She pushes herself one fateful day in San Antonio, a handful of weeks after Will’s gone home and Amelia’s taken his place. The blonde doesn’t say anything as the attack cedes, merely purses her lips and nods. Ginny’s never been more thankful for such quiet strength in her life.)
With every passing baseball milestone, she thinks about that day - counts down the days between that attack and the next one and wonders what her teammates will think. It’s one thing for a minor league or an amateur player to have asthma - it’s quite another for a major league player. (The night before her first game with the Padres she prays for a smooth season.)
It happens six months after her first game. She’s on third base, debating whether or not it’s actually worth it to steal home when Cruz hits a midfielder fly ball and the player drops it - she doesn’t even think - just runs, pushes herself past her carefully constructed limits and takes home base when she feels it happen.
That tightness in her chest, rapid breathing doing nothing, fear leaking into her bloodstream as her heartbeat ticks up with increasing frequency. Ginny staggers away from home base on shaky feet, lips turning blue and with blurry vision she catches the gaze of Mike, growing increasingly worried with each passing second. She wants to scream out - Help me! Please, help me! - but she kept this a secret for a reason and no one on the team knows and they can't - they can't help her.
Within moments she’s falling to her knees, struggling to breathe. Amelia comes crashing down from the VIP Booth, screaming about inhalers and death and God - God, she’s just so cold and why is the stadium so quiet?
Mike is the first one to reach her. “Ginny!” He slides down next to her, dirt colouring his usually white uniform and worry leaking into his gaze. One hand curves around her neck, holding her up since she can't seem to do so herself. He presses an inhaler into her hand but the effort it takes to move her arm is just too much and it all hurts so fucking much - “I got you, sweets, come on, easy does it.” He mutters, using her arm as his own, bringing it to her mouth and pressing down on the inhaler, the medicine filtering into her lungs. "I got you, I got you, I got you." He mutters, the words sounding like a prayer and a pro
Thirty minutes later, Ginny is sequestered away in the clubhouse with the team doctor when Mike comes barrelling in, stormy expression on his face.
“The fuck is wrong with her!” He yells, eyes wide and dare anyone say it - showing clear and utter panic. (Mike is fairly certain the rapid sight of her lips turning blue is something that shaved ten or so years off his life, and an image he'll never forget, no matter how much alcohol he consumes.
Amelia swallows, shaking her head with a haunted look in her eyes. “Asthma - it’s an asthma attack.”
“What? Ginny - Baker," He corrects, catching himself at the last minute. "Doesn’t have -”
“It was kept out of the press. She’s got enough to deal with being a woman, we don’t need to add an aliment that affects 242 million people.”
A heavy exhale blows past his lips and Mike's gaze turns to the curtained areas where the doctor is with her.
"Go." Amelia says softly.
Mike doesn't need to be told twice.
While the sight of Ginny with blue lips, staggering off home base and falling to her knees, unable to breathe is an image he's likely never to forget, the sight of her tired body slumped against the wall, oxygen mask on her face is another image he could possibly do without when it comes to his rookie.
Her doctor nods at Mike and leaves quietly before Mike collapses in the chair sitting across from her.
“Jesus Baker." He exhaled. "Nearly gave an old man a heart attack.”
Ginny lets out a short bark of laughter before wincing, her eyes pained as she breathes deeply from the oxygen mask. “Don’t make me laugh, it hurts.”
He quiets, merely looking at her in that intense way of his, eyes probing her, assessing for himself whether or not she’s really and truly okay. Ginny never knows why, but she always feels distinctly bare whenever he does that; as if every careful piece of armour and wall she’s built over the years has merely fallen away. It thrills and excites her in equal measure - something she’s not quiet sure what to do with.
His hand comes to rest on her shoulder and Mike squeezes. It's bordering on the cusp of their attraction - a reminder that there's something simmering between them, always, no matter who they fuck and who they go out with each Friday night.
“You really okay?” He asks softly.
She nods.
His lips press together, a frown blooming between his brows. "Why didn’t you tell me?”
Ginny shrugs. “Didn’t want it to be another thing ontop of all the other shit I get. Plus it’s only mild, so - not that big of a deal.”
Mike scowls. “It is to me.”
Ginny looks down guilty, before removing the oxygen mask. “Sorry.”
He exhales roughly, squeezing her shoulder once again. “No more secrets?”
"No more secrets."