Fic: If I go crazy then will you still call me superman? [Raul/Guti] [12a/?]
Title: if I go crazy then will you still call me superman? [12a/?]
Author: foot_faults
Characters/Pairing this chapter: Raúl/Guti, Xabi Alonso/Steven Gerrard (ridiculous UST), Fernando Torres/Sergio Ramos, Sergio Ramos/David Beckham (implied), David Beckham/Iker Casillas (pre-slash)
Rating: R
Word count: 960
Disclaimer: this is an entirely fictional story with fictional characters. Any resemblance to real life is a coincidence.
Summery: Guti is a superhero with a history of mental illness. Raúl is a good psychiatrist, but he’s never faced anything like this before. Will he be able to help Guti, and more importantly, will Guti even let him?
Notes: I’ve only got half a chapter here, but I figure something is better than nothing, right? I’m really busy with RL so I can’t promise when the 2nd half of the chapter will be finished, sorry.
WARNING: As the description indicates, this fic contains discussion of mental illness and depression. It also contains discussion of suicide attempts. Please do not read if that is triggering for you.
Previous chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11
When Raul returns to the porch, Guti has resumed slouching in his seat, while Nando perches on Sergio’s lap. Guti is silent, but the talk among the rest of them has turned, as it often does with a group of men who have little else in common, to football.
“Come on, be honest,” Pepe is saying as Raul settles back in his chair, “who here wanted to be a professional footballer when they grew up?”
One by one hands slowly go up as the men sheepishly exchange glances, laughing when they realize every hand is up but Guti’s. Guti rolls his eyes and finally puts his hand up as well.
“Of course,” David says, laughing as they all put their hands back down.
“Now, what positions?” Pepe wants to know. “Let’s hear it, sound off!”
“You first,” Raul says teasingly, to general laughter.
“Goal keeper!” Pepe says promptly. “And I was damn good. And I know Iker over here,” and Pepe nudges Iker in the ribs, “also was a goal keeper, though he wasn’t as good as me.”
“You wish,” Iker says into his glass of wine, but Pepe only laughs.
“Who’s next?” he wants to know.
“Midfield,” David says, smiling.
“Right back,” Sergio says, before leaning over to poke David. “You didn’t tell me you used to play…” David turns, smiling towards Sergio.
“Striker,” Fernando says before David can answer.
“Also a striker,” Raul quickly says, shooting his young employee a worried look.
Xabi is watching the four of them with a worried crease between his eyes. “Midfield.”
“Also midfield,” Guti says lazily, watching all of them like they’re an exhibit in the zoo.
“Also midfield,” Steven agrees. Xabi’s attention immediately snaps to the military doctor, glaring at him as if Steven playing the same position as he did is somehow a deliberate personal affront. “I was pretty good, too,” Steven adds.
Xabi snorts, muttering “yeah right,” as he brings his glass to his lips.
Steven turns to look at him, eyebrow raised. “You think you were better?” he questions.
“I think it’s pointless to brag about something we did as children,” Xabi snips.
Steven rolls his eyes. “We’re just making conversation,” he points out. “Unless there’s something you’d rather be talking about? Something less pointless?”
“Catfight,” Guti coughs from behind his hand, and Fernando laughs.
Xabi turns a particular shade of red. “This conversational topic is fine,” he mutters.
Watching out of the corner of his eye, Raul sees Guti leaning towards Nando, who is leaning back towards Guti as Guti whispers something in his ear.
“We’ve got a lot of midfielders here,” Raul says by way of trying to steer the conversation back on track, “and not many defenders. I wonder if anyone’s ever done an analysis of the types of people who play a particular position …”
“I’m sure someone has, some pop science hack-job,” Xabi says dismissively.
“What, because they didn’t ask your opinion?” Steven says into his wine glass. There’s a lot of that going around Raul notes, and vows to himself not to make snide comments that way.
Xabi seems to have been meant to hear anyway, for he turns to glare at Steven, eyes flashing. “Just because I have some respect for the integrity of the-“
“Oh some respect for the integrity of the,” Steven mockingly repeats. “Lighten up, would you? Some things are good for just a laugh. … If you even know what that is.”
“If I,” Xabi splutters.
“I’m sure everyone here’s senses of humor are perfectly reasonable,” Raul says, mind whirling as he tries to figure out how to defuse the situation.
“I know something Steven didn’t find funny at all,” Pepe says, winking over everyone’s heads at Raul. He proceeds to tell an absolutely filthy story of a time Steve and Pepe were in medical school together and had snuck out of their barracks at night, which ended with them coming home drunk, and one of their fellow students ending up in Steven’s bed dressed in drag, whom Steven had mistaken for a prostitute.
“And Stevie tried to pay him all the money he had in his wallet to get the guy to go away!” Pepe finishes, and the entire group laughs.
“That entire story was complete fabrication and a terrible character assassination,” Steven protests, but he’s laughing good-naturedly along with everyone else.
As the laughter starts to die away, Raul looks at his watch. “Don’t you think it’s about time to start dinner?” he asks Xabi.
Xabi looks at his own watch. “You’re right,” he says, quickly climbing to his feet.
“Do you want help?” David asks, as everyone shifts in their chairs, preparing to stand.
“I don’t need everyone,” Xabi says with a special glare for Steven, “a couple of you would be fine.”
“I’ll help,” David says.
“Me too!” Sergio quickly says.
Nando glares, unseen, at the back of his boyfriend’s head. “I’ll stay out here,” he says.
Sergio looks back at him, worry, or maybe displeasure, starting to show in his eyes. “You sure, Fer?” he questions.
Fernando smiles brittlely. “You go have fun,” he says.
“If you’re sure …” Sergio says, frowning.
“I’m going to stay out here with Guti,” Nando says.
“I’ll stay out here too,” Raul quickly says.
Guti suddenly stands. “Sorry, niño,” he says, “I think I’m going inside. The air’s gotten a little stuffy out here.”
Raul stands as well, knowing Guti’s words were directed at him, but not knowing what to do about it.
It is Pepe who comes to his rescue. “Let’s all go inside,” Pepe says. “No need to use up a beautiful view on only the first day here. Those who don’t help can contribute with their scintillating conversation.” He winks at Raul.
Inwardly Raul sighs with relief. “Okay,” he agrees.
Author: foot_faults
Characters/Pairing this chapter: Raúl/Guti, Xabi Alonso/Steven Gerrard (ridiculous UST), Fernando Torres/Sergio Ramos, Sergio Ramos/David Beckham (implied), David Beckham/Iker Casillas (pre-slash)
Rating: R
Word count: 960
Disclaimer: this is an entirely fictional story with fictional characters. Any resemblance to real life is a coincidence.
Summery: Guti is a superhero with a history of mental illness. Raúl is a good psychiatrist, but he’s never faced anything like this before. Will he be able to help Guti, and more importantly, will Guti even let him?
Notes: I’ve only got half a chapter here, but I figure something is better than nothing, right? I’m really busy with RL so I can’t promise when the 2nd half of the chapter will be finished, sorry.
WARNING: As the description indicates, this fic contains discussion of mental illness and depression. It also contains discussion of suicide attempts. Please do not read if that is triggering for you.
Previous chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11
When Raul returns to the porch, Guti has resumed slouching in his seat, while Nando perches on Sergio’s lap. Guti is silent, but the talk among the rest of them has turned, as it often does with a group of men who have little else in common, to football.
“Come on, be honest,” Pepe is saying as Raul settles back in his chair, “who here wanted to be a professional footballer when they grew up?”
One by one hands slowly go up as the men sheepishly exchange glances, laughing when they realize every hand is up but Guti’s. Guti rolls his eyes and finally puts his hand up as well.
“Of course,” David says, laughing as they all put their hands back down.
“Now, what positions?” Pepe wants to know. “Let’s hear it, sound off!”
“You first,” Raul says teasingly, to general laughter.
“Goal keeper!” Pepe says promptly. “And I was damn good. And I know Iker over here,” and Pepe nudges Iker in the ribs, “also was a goal keeper, though he wasn’t as good as me.”
“You wish,” Iker says into his glass of wine, but Pepe only laughs.
“Who’s next?” he wants to know.
“Midfield,” David says, smiling.
“Right back,” Sergio says, before leaning over to poke David. “You didn’t tell me you used to play…” David turns, smiling towards Sergio.
“Striker,” Fernando says before David can answer.
“Also a striker,” Raul quickly says, shooting his young employee a worried look.
Xabi is watching the four of them with a worried crease between his eyes. “Midfield.”
“Also midfield,” Guti says lazily, watching all of them like they’re an exhibit in the zoo.
“Also midfield,” Steven agrees. Xabi’s attention immediately snaps to the military doctor, glaring at him as if Steven playing the same position as he did is somehow a deliberate personal affront. “I was pretty good, too,” Steven adds.
Xabi snorts, muttering “yeah right,” as he brings his glass to his lips.
Steven turns to look at him, eyebrow raised. “You think you were better?” he questions.
“I think it’s pointless to brag about something we did as children,” Xabi snips.
Steven rolls his eyes. “We’re just making conversation,” he points out. “Unless there’s something you’d rather be talking about? Something less pointless?”
“Catfight,” Guti coughs from behind his hand, and Fernando laughs.
Xabi turns a particular shade of red. “This conversational topic is fine,” he mutters.
Watching out of the corner of his eye, Raul sees Guti leaning towards Nando, who is leaning back towards Guti as Guti whispers something in his ear.
“We’ve got a lot of midfielders here,” Raul says by way of trying to steer the conversation back on track, “and not many defenders. I wonder if anyone’s ever done an analysis of the types of people who play a particular position …”
“I’m sure someone has, some pop science hack-job,” Xabi says dismissively.
“What, because they didn’t ask your opinion?” Steven says into his wine glass. There’s a lot of that going around Raul notes, and vows to himself not to make snide comments that way.
Xabi seems to have been meant to hear anyway, for he turns to glare at Steven, eyes flashing. “Just because I have some respect for the integrity of the-“
“Oh some respect for the integrity of the,” Steven mockingly repeats. “Lighten up, would you? Some things are good for just a laugh. … If you even know what that is.”
“If I,” Xabi splutters.
“I’m sure everyone here’s senses of humor are perfectly reasonable,” Raul says, mind whirling as he tries to figure out how to defuse the situation.
“I know something Steven didn’t find funny at all,” Pepe says, winking over everyone’s heads at Raul. He proceeds to tell an absolutely filthy story of a time Steve and Pepe were in medical school together and had snuck out of their barracks at night, which ended with them coming home drunk, and one of their fellow students ending up in Steven’s bed dressed in drag, whom Steven had mistaken for a prostitute.
“And Stevie tried to pay him all the money he had in his wallet to get the guy to go away!” Pepe finishes, and the entire group laughs.
“That entire story was complete fabrication and a terrible character assassination,” Steven protests, but he’s laughing good-naturedly along with everyone else.
As the laughter starts to die away, Raul looks at his watch. “Don’t you think it’s about time to start dinner?” he asks Xabi.
Xabi looks at his own watch. “You’re right,” he says, quickly climbing to his feet.
“Do you want help?” David asks, as everyone shifts in their chairs, preparing to stand.
“I don’t need everyone,” Xabi says with a special glare for Steven, “a couple of you would be fine.”
“I’ll help,” David says.
“Me too!” Sergio quickly says.
Nando glares, unseen, at the back of his boyfriend’s head. “I’ll stay out here,” he says.
Sergio looks back at him, worry, or maybe displeasure, starting to show in his eyes. “You sure, Fer?” he questions.
Fernando smiles brittlely. “You go have fun,” he says.
“If you’re sure …” Sergio says, frowning.
“I’m going to stay out here with Guti,” Nando says.
“I’ll stay out here too,” Raul quickly says.
Guti suddenly stands. “Sorry, niño,” he says, “I think I’m going inside. The air’s gotten a little stuffy out here.”
Raul stands as well, knowing Guti’s words were directed at him, but not knowing what to do about it.
It is Pepe who comes to his rescue. “Let’s all go inside,” Pepe says. “No need to use up a beautiful view on only the first day here. Those who don’t help can contribute with their scintillating conversation.” He winks at Raul.
Inwardly Raul sighs with relief. “Okay,” he agrees.