FIC: When i grow up... (Green Street Hooligans)
Title: When I grow up…
Fandom: Green Street Hooligans
Character(s)/Pairing(s): Dave, OC,
Prompt: 025: Children
Rating: PG-13
Warnings/Spoilers: None
Disclaimer: I do not own GSH, or any of the characters (except Grandad, of course!)
A/N: If you’re American, you’ll know this movie just as ‘Hooligans’.
When I grow up…
Dave hadn’t wanted to be a footballer or a magician or an astronaut like all the other boys his age. No; in primary school he’d had his heart set on being a frog.
He’d had this ambition ever since seeing them in the pond in his council flat back garden when he was six. Its head had popped above the water, blinking at him. Then, with a ‘blop’ it had disappeared, leaving ripples to spread on the surface.
‘I’m going to be a frog,’ he’d happily announced at the dinner table. His mum flashed him a look of disapproval, while his Uncle Gary rubbed his mop of black hair playfully.
His dad said nothing.
Then, high school came and it was here when Dave realized it wasn’t that cool to want to grow up and be a frog.
It was also when he started high school where he really got into football. West Ham became his favourite team ever and that’s when he decided he wanted to be a footballer.
When his dad left and Uncle Gary turned to drugs, it was just him and mum. ‘David, we need to move again,’ she sighed, sat at the dinner table.
Dave stared back at her with a frown. ‘Why?’
‘I don’t ‘ave enough money for the rent.’
‘I’ll get a job. I’ll help pay the bills.’
‘How?’ she scoffed. ‘By becoming a footballer and earning millions a year?’ Dave felt his heart drop and he sighed. He hated it, but knew she was right.
Unable to pay the rent, the two moved into Grandad’s house. He was a tall man, with wrinkles around the eyes and a hunch in his back. He owned a collie called Sam and always had a pipe stuck in his mouth.
‘This is your room, son,’ Grandad said, pushing open the door to the attic bedroom. Dave stepped in, dumping his case on the small, wiry bed. ‘Your mum will be downstairs if you need her.’ Dave nodded and waited until Grandad had left before moving to the window.
He hadn’t even been here five minutes and he already hated it.
But, as the months passed, Dave grew to love the place. His room was actually his own; no sharing it with Uncle Gary or drunken guests of his dad’s. No one went up here except for him, which proved out good when he started getting into girls.
Until, one day, there was a knock on his bedroom door. ‘Yeah?’ he called, looking up from the magazine he was reading.
‘Just me, son,’ smiled Grandad, voice rough from years of smoking. ‘I ‘ave a surprise for you.’
‘Where?’
‘We’re going on a trip.’
‘With mum?’ Dave frowned.
‘No, son. Just you and me.’ Dave continued to frown as Grandad pulled two tickets out of his pocket. ‘Happy Birthday, Dave.’
The teenager raised his eyebrows in surprise; he hadn’t really celebrated his birthday in years. Mum never had enough money with all the rent to pay. Dave climbed to his feet, reaching out to take the tickets. ‘Air show?’ he laughed.
‘It’ll be fun. I’ve made up a picnic, but we ‘ave to go now if you wanna get there in time.’ Dave grinned, grabbing a jacket and slinging it on; tugging his trainers onto socked feet.
The drive took about an hour, but it passed quickly as they listened to music on the radio. It was all the old tracks that Grandad used to listen to on cassette, but Dave didn’t mind. He quite enjoyed it actually.
The air show wasn’t what Dave expected it to be. They passed through crowds; stalls upon stalls filled the airfield. Planes flew overhead, rumbling in Dave’s chest like nothing he’d never imagined. He watched a large plane glide almost peacefully overhead. ‘What plane’s that?’ he asked.
‘That’s a Vulcan,’ his Grandad replied, grey eyes never leaving the sky.
‘And those?’ Dave asked, pointing.
‘Spitfires,’ he called over the noise. ‘I flew one of them.’
‘You flew a Spitfire?’
‘Yeah; back in the days. I’ve seen a lot of things, David. And I’ve done a few things in my life which I regret.’
‘Like what?’ he frowned. Grandad chuckled, looking down at his grandson.
‘Another time, okay? Here come the fighter jets.’ Dave looked up as the jets zoomed at incredible speeds across the skies, sending the now familiar rumble through his chest, making his heart beat accelerate.
‘You know what, Grandad,’ he said over the noise.
‘Go on.’
‘When I grow up, I’m going to be a pilot.’
Grandad just chuckled and ruffled his hair.
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