fanfic100 -- #71 -- Broken.
Title: Waiting
Fandom: Soccer/Football
Character(s): Steven Gerrard
Prompt: #71 -- Broken
Word Count: 449
Rating: PG
Author's Notes: outforhire AU. Pastfic; set sometime early in the 2004-05 season, when Xabi was playing and Steven was injured. Fully disclaimed -- the players are real, but that's all that is. Everything else is lies.
Being injured is the worst. You can't train. You certainly can't play. The best you can do is sit in the stands, plaster a smile on your face, and pretend you're thrilled to be there and cheering your team on. Everything that's in you is screaming to be out there, wishing you were the one making the tackles and scoring the goals. You stare jealously at the flash of yellow on Carra's arm. It should be yours. It is yours. But you're up in the stands with a bruised shin or a strained hamstring, wearing a suit instead of your kit, and no one at all is screaming your name.
Again, not that this has happened to Steven. Not that he's ever been up there and cursed under his breath when Liverpool scored. Of course not. He's the captain, for Christ's sake. Ridiculous to think that he doesn't want them to win, just because he's not playing. It defies all logic to think that he'd be happier in the stands watching a 5-0 defeat than a 10-0 victory. That he'd smile on the inside watching the wheels totally fall off his team.
But he has. Not often, but sometimes. Because being injured isn't really the worst. Being dropped is. Part of him would rather be the best thing about a mediocre team than be expendable in the best team in the league. He's still selfish, still hungry. He wants the certainty of starting every week. He wants to know at least that much.
Because he's not sure of anything else, really. He never knows when he's got a job until the day before. He never knows what his jobs have done to deserve it (though he's pretty sure they must have done something, else he wouldn't be there). He doesn't know how long he's going to stay in his line of work, but he knows when he's dropped, it'll be swift, sudden, and he'll have no chance of coming back.
He's not sure of anything important. Up in the stands, he finds himself watching Xabi more than anyone else, watching him without jealousy or competitiveness. He doesn't feel threatened, even though he should. Interested, yes, threatened, no. He wonders if Rafa's gotten Xabi into the job yet; he wonders if that's the reason he's here. He wonders if he needs a partner, quickly puts the thought out of his mind. Steven works alone, has since he got called up and that thing he almost-not-quite had with Frank ended. Amiably enough, but still. That's something he doesn’t want to get into again. He thinks.
So he sits in the stands and waits, watching. That's all he can do right now.
Fandom: Soccer/Football
Character(s): Steven Gerrard
Prompt: #71 -- Broken
Word Count: 449
Rating: PG
Author's Notes: outforhire AU. Pastfic; set sometime early in the 2004-05 season, when Xabi was playing and Steven was injured. Fully disclaimed -- the players are real, but that's all that is. Everything else is lies.
Being injured is the worst. You can't train. You certainly can't play. The best you can do is sit in the stands, plaster a smile on your face, and pretend you're thrilled to be there and cheering your team on. Everything that's in you is screaming to be out there, wishing you were the one making the tackles and scoring the goals. You stare jealously at the flash of yellow on Carra's arm. It should be yours. It is yours. But you're up in the stands with a bruised shin or a strained hamstring, wearing a suit instead of your kit, and no one at all is screaming your name.
Again, not that this has happened to Steven. Not that he's ever been up there and cursed under his breath when Liverpool scored. Of course not. He's the captain, for Christ's sake. Ridiculous to think that he doesn't want them to win, just because he's not playing. It defies all logic to think that he'd be happier in the stands watching a 5-0 defeat than a 10-0 victory. That he'd smile on the inside watching the wheels totally fall off his team.
But he has. Not often, but sometimes. Because being injured isn't really the worst. Being dropped is. Part of him would rather be the best thing about a mediocre team than be expendable in the best team in the league. He's still selfish, still hungry. He wants the certainty of starting every week. He wants to know at least that much.
Because he's not sure of anything else, really. He never knows when he's got a job until the day before. He never knows what his jobs have done to deserve it (though he's pretty sure they must have done something, else he wouldn't be there). He doesn't know how long he's going to stay in his line of work, but he knows when he's dropped, it'll be swift, sudden, and he'll have no chance of coming back.
He's not sure of anything important. Up in the stands, he finds himself watching Xabi more than anyone else, watching him without jealousy or competitiveness. He doesn't feel threatened, even though he should. Interested, yes, threatened, no. He wonders if Rafa's gotten Xabi into the job yet; he wonders if that's the reason he's here. He wonders if he needs a partner, quickly puts the thought out of his mind. Steven works alone, has since he got called up and that thing he almost-not-quite had with Frank ended. Amiably enough, but still. That's something he doesn’t want to get into again. He thinks.
So he sits in the stands and waits, watching. That's all he can do right now.