Ohai thur muse, nice of you to return
Title: The responsibility of winning
Characters: Raul, Guti, Sergio, Iker
Pairings: Raul/Guti and Sergio/Iker (if you squint)
Rating: G
Disclaimer: I checked but as far as I know, the real players do not live in my imagination therefore this is very unlikely to be true
Words: 1100 ish
Summary: Real Madrid win the CDR final and before Sergio even thought of the idea of dropping the trophy, he has to deal with the pressure of winning.
A/N: So I haven't written anything properly for months or published it on my LJ for even longer because my muse upped and left. Well in watching the CDR Final she decided to come back and grace me with this idea ... despite having forgotten how to write in the past year, somehow I still ended up with this. I'm not 100% sure about it but I'm hoping this is what I needed to write to shift the rust out of my system.
~~~~*****~~~~
Raul saw the ball hit the back of the net at the Bernabeu on the screen and smiled to himself as he watched the group of men; his men, his boys - always his boys - jump over each other in celebration before straightening themselves up again and moving back into their positions quickly, just waiting for the final whistle to blow seconds later.
His heart ached to know that he wasn’t part of their team any more - he would always be part of the club and they would always be his boys but this was no longer his team, it was Iker’s - but at the sound of the final whistle the ache was replaced by a swell of pride at the knowledge that all of their hard work, training and effort had finally been rewarded and his boys were going to the final.
He let his mind drift back, reminiscing about all the celebrations he had taken part in, of all the drunken parties surrounded by thousands of fans screaming his name, of the countless times he’d climbed that crane with the scarf in his hands ready to proffer it to one of the most beautiful women in all of Madrid.
He was pulled from his revere by the shrill, familiar ringtone of his phone that could signal a call from only one person.
“You were watching our boys too then, Jose Maria?” Raul couldn’t help but smile into the phone as the ecstatic sound of Guti’s celebration came through the handset. The two of them spent a few minutes recounting details of the match to each other as they caught up before a silence fell between them.
“They made the final, Raul and even though they‘re playing Barcelona, they‘ll beat them - I know our boys are bringing that trophy home.” Guti spoke quietly, unwilling to break the silence any more than was necessary.
Raul nodded as he spoke, “I know,” he paused for a moment before he continued, “and I know that when they do then they need to be properly prepared.”
Guti let out a slow breath into the receiver as he hummed his agreement, “It’s time, Raul”.
____________________________
They’d won. The game was over and they’d won. It had taken them 18 long years and god only knows how much heartache, disappointment, effort and determination to get here but they’d finally done it.
Sergio found himself surrounded by smiling and yelling team mates as they celebrated and he matched their energy and excitement with his own - they’d won against Barcelona and they were taking the trophy home to Madrid.
The songs and chants from the fans echoed round the stadium, drowning out the roaring of his own heart in his chest and his celebrations as though they were nothing more than whispers.
That’s when he saw him, walking through the crowds of players, technical staff, officials and other people milling around on the field towards him, holding something in his hands. As Iker got closer, Sergio could see that whatever Iker was holding was some sort of bright pink material, with flashes of golden yellow just visible and for a moment Sergio assumed Iker had been handed yet another flag or banner by one of the fans before his breath caught in his throat and he found himself frozen to the spot.
Iker finally managed to work his way through the mass of people until he was standing in front of Sergio and suddenly the roar of the crowd and everyone else in the stadium didn‘t matter.
“He sent it for you,” Iker didn’t even need to explain who or what he was talking about. Sergio’s expression alone betrayed the fact that he knew exactly what he was referring to. “He told me that when we won - not if, but when - I had to give this to you.”
Sergio stretched out a hand to run over the soft material laid out over Iker’s arm as he shook his head slowly.
“I can’t Iker, it’s … I mean … I’m not him.” Sergio let out a long slow breath as he ran his fingers through his hair.
His mind was racing and his heart felt like it was beating out of his chest as he tried in vain to find the words to explain why he couldn’t accept the gift Raul had sent him, how he wasn’t ready - wasn’t sure he’d ever be ready for what it meant if he did accept. He missed his captains every day, no matter what he said and how other people saw him he still didn’t feel like a captain because it still didn’t seem real.
Before this season he’d never known any other captain at Real Madrid, Raul had always been his captain and in his naïve youth he never considered the idea that there’d be a time he wouldn’t be there. Now Iker was asking him to take his place in one of the very things that defined Raul as a symbol of Madrid.
“I know you’re not him and nobody expects you to be him except you. He wants someone to carry on his tradition, and you’re the one he’s entrusting with that honour.”
Sergio swallowed hard as he carefully took the cape from Iker and letting it slowly unfurl, feeling the weight of the material in his hands as he tried to ignore the weight he felt on his shoulders.
“Raul entrusted me with the armband, and all the expectations that come with that because he had the confidence that I could do the job, and he has the confidence in you to entrust you with this. So do I.” Iker smiled and leaned over to kiss Sergio’s cheek lightly as he whispered one last thing into his ear “We know you can do this”
Sergio found himself staring down at the bright material in his hands and by the time he looked up Iker had been herded out of the way as what felt like thousands of reporters and cameramen had realised what he was holding and were vying for the best position from which to capture the spectacle.
Sergio closed his eyes and tried to block out their screams and shouts as he remembered the last time he had seen this very spectacle and the man who had such faith in him. He tried to concentrate on nothing but the weight in his hands and the memory in his mind.
He opened his eyes and stepped into the spotlight.
Characters: Raul, Guti, Sergio, Iker
Pairings: Raul/Guti and Sergio/Iker (if you squint)
Rating: G
Disclaimer: I checked but as far as I know, the real players do not live in my imagination therefore this is very unlikely to be true
Words: 1100 ish
Summary: Real Madrid win the CDR final and before Sergio even thought of the idea of dropping the trophy, he has to deal with the pressure of winning.
A/N: So I haven't written anything properly for months or published it on my LJ for even longer because my muse upped and left. Well in watching the CDR Final she decided to come back and grace me with this idea ... despite having forgotten how to write in the past year, somehow I still ended up with this. I'm not 100% sure about it but I'm hoping this is what I needed to write to shift the rust out of my system.
~~~~*****~~~~
Raul saw the ball hit the back of the net at the Bernabeu on the screen and smiled to himself as he watched the group of men; his men, his boys - always his boys - jump over each other in celebration before straightening themselves up again and moving back into their positions quickly, just waiting for the final whistle to blow seconds later.
His heart ached to know that he wasn’t part of their team any more - he would always be part of the club and they would always be his boys but this was no longer his team, it was Iker’s - but at the sound of the final whistle the ache was replaced by a swell of pride at the knowledge that all of their hard work, training and effort had finally been rewarded and his boys were going to the final.
He let his mind drift back, reminiscing about all the celebrations he had taken part in, of all the drunken parties surrounded by thousands of fans screaming his name, of the countless times he’d climbed that crane with the scarf in his hands ready to proffer it to one of the most beautiful women in all of Madrid.
He was pulled from his revere by the shrill, familiar ringtone of his phone that could signal a call from only one person.
“You were watching our boys too then, Jose Maria?” Raul couldn’t help but smile into the phone as the ecstatic sound of Guti’s celebration came through the handset. The two of them spent a few minutes recounting details of the match to each other as they caught up before a silence fell between them.
“They made the final, Raul and even though they‘re playing Barcelona, they‘ll beat them - I know our boys are bringing that trophy home.” Guti spoke quietly, unwilling to break the silence any more than was necessary.
Raul nodded as he spoke, “I know,” he paused for a moment before he continued, “and I know that when they do then they need to be properly prepared.”
Guti let out a slow breath into the receiver as he hummed his agreement, “It’s time, Raul”.
____________________________
They’d won. The game was over and they’d won. It had taken them 18 long years and god only knows how much heartache, disappointment, effort and determination to get here but they’d finally done it.
Sergio found himself surrounded by smiling and yelling team mates as they celebrated and he matched their energy and excitement with his own - they’d won against Barcelona and they were taking the trophy home to Madrid.
The songs and chants from the fans echoed round the stadium, drowning out the roaring of his own heart in his chest and his celebrations as though they were nothing more than whispers.
That’s when he saw him, walking through the crowds of players, technical staff, officials and other people milling around on the field towards him, holding something in his hands. As Iker got closer, Sergio could see that whatever Iker was holding was some sort of bright pink material, with flashes of golden yellow just visible and for a moment Sergio assumed Iker had been handed yet another flag or banner by one of the fans before his breath caught in his throat and he found himself frozen to the spot.
Iker finally managed to work his way through the mass of people until he was standing in front of Sergio and suddenly the roar of the crowd and everyone else in the stadium didn‘t matter.
“He sent it for you,” Iker didn’t even need to explain who or what he was talking about. Sergio’s expression alone betrayed the fact that he knew exactly what he was referring to. “He told me that when we won - not if, but when - I had to give this to you.”
Sergio stretched out a hand to run over the soft material laid out over Iker’s arm as he shook his head slowly.
“I can’t Iker, it’s … I mean … I’m not him.” Sergio let out a long slow breath as he ran his fingers through his hair.
His mind was racing and his heart felt like it was beating out of his chest as he tried in vain to find the words to explain why he couldn’t accept the gift Raul had sent him, how he wasn’t ready - wasn’t sure he’d ever be ready for what it meant if he did accept. He missed his captains every day, no matter what he said and how other people saw him he still didn’t feel like a captain because it still didn’t seem real.
Before this season he’d never known any other captain at Real Madrid, Raul had always been his captain and in his naïve youth he never considered the idea that there’d be a time he wouldn’t be there. Now Iker was asking him to take his place in one of the very things that defined Raul as a symbol of Madrid.
“I know you’re not him and nobody expects you to be him except you. He wants someone to carry on his tradition, and you’re the one he’s entrusting with that honour.”
Sergio swallowed hard as he carefully took the cape from Iker and letting it slowly unfurl, feeling the weight of the material in his hands as he tried to ignore the weight he felt on his shoulders.
“Raul entrusted me with the armband, and all the expectations that come with that because he had the confidence that I could do the job, and he has the confidence in you to entrust you with this. So do I.” Iker smiled and leaned over to kiss Sergio’s cheek lightly as he whispered one last thing into his ear “We know you can do this”
Sergio found himself staring down at the bright material in his hands and by the time he looked up Iker had been herded out of the way as what felt like thousands of reporters and cameramen had realised what he was holding and were vying for the best position from which to capture the spectacle.
Sergio closed his eyes and tried to block out their screams and shouts as he remembered the last time he had seen this very spectacle and the man who had such faith in him. He tried to concentrate on nothing but the weight in his hands and the memory in his mind.
He opened his eyes and stepped into the spotlight.