#Ale Russo | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

girlgenius1111 · 4 months ago

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by your side

part 2 to responsibility how do you fix something when you don't have all the pieces? how do you heal when you aren't sure you deserve to? basically, r tries to work through the actions of her father, and the grief she feels for her mother. heavy angst but obviously still fluff. also hi thank you @wileys-russo your lil ideas saved this fic

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The early hours of the morning had been kind of a blur; one minute, you were cradled in Alexia’s arms in your house. The next minute, or so it felt like, you were being gently laid on the bed in the guest bedroom back at Alexia’s. Perhaps it was exhaustion, or perhaps it was the intense stress of the previous day, but almost as soon as you curled up under the covers on the guest bed, you were out cold. You didn’t remember leaving your house, or getting to Alexia’s. The state you were in worried your captain deeply, and she found herself hesitating in your doorway, terrified to leave you alone again.

Worry was plaguing her, taking over every molecule in her body. This wasn’t a problem Ale could fix, and she hated not being able to solve things. Especially when the issue was hurting someone she cared about. It was only when she felt a gentle hand grab hers that she was brought out of her spiral.

“Come to bed, Ale.” Olga whispered, softly tugging her girlfriend down the hall towards their room. Alexia didn’t resist very much, the allure of falling limp into her girlfriend’s arms in her bed too strong.

“I don’t want to leave her,” she argued weakly, glancing back down the hall towards where you lay peacefully sleeping. Well, sleeping at least.

“She’s asleep, and you need to be too. It’s been a long night for you, Ale, you have to let yourself rest.”

“But-”

“No buts.” Olga interrupted, all but pushing her girlfriend to sit on the edge of the bed before she got a new pair of pajamas out for the blonde. Alexia was very strict about inside clothes and outside clothes, and Olga knew better than to try to get her girlfriend to sleep under the covers in clothes that had left the house. “You can’t help her if you’re exhausted.”

Begrudgingly, Alexia nodded, taking the clothes from Olga and changing quickly.

It was only once they were both back in bed, the lights flicked off and Alexia uncharacteristically curled up with her head on Olga’s chest, that the blonde spoke again. “I can’t fix this, Olga. I don’t know how to help her.”

Olga hummed, dragging her nails slowly up and down her girlfriend’s back. “You don’t need to do it all by yourself. Tomorrow, you’ll talk to a few of your teammates. Ingrid and Mapi can come over and spend time with her, and you’ll bring Irene to go meet with her lawyer and her case worker. The less stress on chiquita, the better. You can tell the club what’s going on. Everyone will come up with a plan, and once there is a plan, you’ll feel better, and so will she. Take it one day at a time, Ale. That’s all you have to do.”

It was amazing how rationally Olga could speak about such a stressful situation. It was also amazing how quickly she calmed Alexia’s anxiety. When Olga laid it all out like that, it seemed manageable. Olga was always right, and the blonde knew that this case wasn’t different. Alexia tucked her face into the brunette’s neck, leaving a soft kiss on the skin there. “One day at a time.” She repeated, whole body relaxing into her girlfriend’s.

One day at a time. Alexia could do that. And so could you, she hoped.

The phone calls that had to be made the next day were difficult, to say the least. Alexia had to explain, several times over, what had happened. To the club, to your lawyer, to a few of your other teammates. Alexia, though, thrived in an environment where there were things to do, tasks to complete. It was easier to approach the situation in a clinical way, like it was a checklist, than to think about the feelings of it all.

She left you with Ingrid and Mapi, who were going to take you to get what you needed from your house, and picked up Irene on her way to the Barça offices. Your social worker, lawyer, the club's lawyer, and a few of the coaches would be meeting her there. That was the next thing for her to check off, yet she was finding it incredibly difficult to keep her feelings in check. She kept seeing flashes of your face when you arrived last night.

In all her years of knowing you, Alexia had never seen you do anything that was even remotely unkind. You were always always kind. It was difficult for her to imagine anyone hurting you, though she occasionally saw it happen on the pitch. What was impossible, though, was trying to figure out how your father had inflicted so much pain onto you. You were so good. Alexia wasn’t sure how, after losing your mom and enduring what you had, you remained purely good. It wasn’t fair. It really wasn’t fucking fair.

-------

“Look at you in this one!” Mapi practically shouted with glee, holding up a photo of a 5 year old you, striking a rather ridiculous pose and sticking out your hand in a peace sign. “Look at your tiny little face!”

You rolled your eyes, shoving yet another photo album into the box. Your mom had loved to take photos, and there were countless albums filled with photos of you. You’d always liked to flip back through them, especially after losing her. The way she photographed; it was as if you could feel her love in the way she captured you.The most mundane things, captured, printed, and saved forever. Everything you did as a child excited your mom, made her beam with pride. It was easier to remember that grin she’d get, when you’d do something to make her laugh, when you looked back through these pictures.

“Is this her?” Ingrid asked softly, holding up another photo, this time of 3 year old you, out cold in your mother’s arms as she smiled hugely at the camera. Your father must have taken that one. As always when you saw a photo of her, you felt a pang of longing in your chest, one that never eased with time. Sometimes, grief rushed through you with such power, you felt like you could double over in pain. Even now, even years later. That was something that never got better.

“Yeah, that’s her.”

Ingrid smiled, handing it to Mapi, who also inspected it closely.

“She looks kind.” Ingrid noted. You thought of her warm hugs, and the funny voices she’d do when she’d read you bedtime stories. The way she always put a little note in your lunch. The silly dance she’d do to distract you when you’d need to get a shot. When you’d score a goal and look into the stand and see her there, smiling proudly. Or when you’d miss a goal, and her smile would still be there, still proudly watching you play.

You still looked to the stands for her sometimes, on instinct. You missed her proud smile and her warm hugs and her kindness more than anything. Ingrid was right; she really did look kind, in a way that only someone purely and completely good could.

You bit your lip, nodding rapidly. “She was. Really kind.”

“Nena, you look like her.” Mapi said quietly, looking back and forth between you and the photo.

People never said that. Never. They talked about how you and your father were practically twins, how you had the same nose and the same mouth as him. The same hair color, the same laugh, the same walk. You were just like him, everyone said. No one ever really compared you to your mom. You always thought it was because she was much too beautiful to be compared to.

“No, I look like my dad.” You disagreed, shaking your head and taking the picture from the Spaniard’s outstretched hand.

Ignoring Ingrid’s look telling her to drop it, Mapi also shook her head.

“No, you have her eyes. Look, when she smiles? They crinkle just like yours do when you smile.” Mapi pointed at the photo, and suddenly, you couldn’t tear your eyes off it. “And that dimple on her cheek? You have that too, but only when you smile really big.”

“Really?” You asked, refusing to look away from the photo. Mapi nodded, and Ingrid voiced her agreement, too.

“You look kind, just like her.”

You squinted, seeing the resemblance finally, but not seeing the kindness. “I don’t think I’m as kind as she’d like me to be.”

“Well, from everything you’ve ever told me about her, I think she’d be very proud of you.” Mapi said definitively. You shrugged, silently disagreeing with her. There was nothing to be proud of, you thought. You turned the page, hoping for something to distract from Mapi’s statement. The photo on the next page sent a rush of different emotions through you, and you could only stare at it for a moment before you let it slip from your grip as you stood.

“Pequeña?”

“I need some air.” You choked out, practically stumbling to the front door and wrenching it open. Ingrid and Mapi looked after you, startled at your abrupt exit.

Picking up the photo album you’d dropped, Ingrid’s face melted into one of understanding. She handed it over to the Spaniard, before getting to her feet herself and heading out the front door after you. Mapi took in the photo, not needing to think too hard about why it had upset you.

You couldn’t have been more than 3, asleep in your car seat in the back of the car. The photo was from the point of view of the driver, and also captured your father, asleep in almost an identical position in the passenger seat. His arm was stretched back, hand reaching to where yours extended. You were gripping onto two of his fingers with your small fist, slumped to the side a bit in order to reach him.

It didn’t look like a particularly comfortable position for either of you, yet you were both happily dozing. Mapi took a moment, willing herself not to rip the damn photo into pieces. The same hand you’d clung onto for comfort and safety as a child had inflicted the gash and the bruises that marked your face now. How does a parent go from loving and dedicated, as your father seemed in the photos, to the man he was now? Practically a stranger to you. The family that had known you was gone, leaving nothing in its absence.

Mapi headed out after the two of you, not sure what she should say. What she could say. She stepped onto the front porch, heart melting a bit at the way you sat, with your head resting on Ingrid’s shoulder. The Norwegian’s hand rubbed slowly up and down your back, though you inhaled shakily every few seconds, crying silently.

It appeared you didn’t have anything to say, either.

-------

It was unclear whether Mapi suggested ice cream because you still had time to kill before Alexia arrived home from her meeting, if she was trying to cheer you up, or if she just wanted ice cream. Regardless, you had agreed timidly, not wanting to seem too excited as you felt they’d already done enough for you today. Ingrid had pounced on the idea, though, dragging you halfway across the city to the best ice cream shop in Spain.

You appreciated her enthusiasm, even if you were exhausted and wanted nothing more than to go ho- back to Alexia’s, and take a nap. Alexia and Olga were both still out, though, and you were quite sure no one was going to leave you home alone anytime soon.

The whole day had broken records, you were sure, of Mapi being quieter than she’d ever been in her life. Her and Ingrid didn’t try to get you to talk, not really. They just kept you company, allowing you to stare out at the ocean from where the three of you sat eating your ice cream. Well, mostly.

“Nena?” Mapi asked. You hummed, looking up from your ice cream. Mint chocolate chip, it had been your mom’s favorite. Or was that peanut butter chocolate chip? You couldn’t remember. “Do you want to go visit your mom? Where she’s buried, I mean?”

You furrowed your brow, looking a bit defensive. “What would that do?”

“You could talk to her. Or… I don’t know. It might be nice to visit. I always feel my abuela around a bit more after I visit her.”

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes, keeping your mouth shut, but the Spaniard easily clocked the skeptical look on your face. She nudged you with her shoe, keeping her expression curious and open. “What?”

“Mapi, my mom is dead. There is nothing to feel.”

“You don’t think she’s hanging around?”

“I don’t believe in God, Mapi. I don’t believe in heaven or hell, I don’t think she’s anywhere.”

You used to believe. You’d been raised religious, kept up with it casually. Until your mom had gotten sick, and you’d laid awake night after night for months, praying to God that she’d get better. That He wouldn’t take her from you. And then she was gone and you decided that even if he was up there, you hated him. God has a plan, everyone always told you that, especially after she’d died. You didn’t care about any plan, though. Not now, not then. You wanted your mom back, divine plans be damned.

She was gone, though. And it felt like she faded away from you with every passing day.

You couldn’t quite hear her voice anymore. Couldn’t smell her perfume, even if you thought really hard. You couldn’t remember what her paella tasted like, or the little song she used to sing when she’d braid your hair. You weren’t sure if the red sweater or the green sweater had been her favorite.

You felt the gap she’d left behind more than anything. You’d see something crazy happen, and think about how you wished you could tell her. Every song from her favorite artist that came out, every movie you knew she would have loved. Every goal you scored. Every game or trophy you won. You thought of her.

You used to feel her everywhere and now you were afraid that you felt her absence more than anything. The harder you tried to hold on to your memories of her, the easier they seemed to slip away. If she was still around, why did it feel like she was only getting farther and farther away from you?

Mapi interrupted your thought spiral. “You don’t have to believe in anything, or go visit anyone. We just want to help you, nena.”

“I know.” You nodded shakily. A thousand other replies swirled around in your brain, but none of them made their way out of your mouth. They were too complicated to sift through, some of them completely contradictory. Your phone buzzed, much to your relief, with a text from Alexia.

Hola, nena. How are you doing? We are almost done here, and then we can just relax the rest of the day. Maybe have a movie night? Whatever you feel like! It’s Olga’s night to cook, but everything else is your choice. See you soon. <3

Your stomach twisted with some emotion; you weren’t sure if it was good or bad. Maybe both. Hopeful, but terrified. You didn’t want to get used to being cared for. What would happen when it was taken away again?

------

The meeting had gone well, if Alexia’s relieved mood was any indication. You weren’t sure what that meant for you, though. And you were more than a little scared to ask. What if she seemed relieved because they had decided they were going to take you away somewhere? And she wouldn’t have to deal with you anymore?

You worried all through dinner, which had been delicious, though you hadn’t been able to stomach much. There were no signs that you were becoming less worked up, even as you sat in the corner of the couch, wrapped up in a very warm blanket. You’d chosen the movie, and Olga and Ale had bickered over who got to hold onto the remote.

The domesticity of the situation wasn’t helping the turmoil in your head, everything compounding to become rather overwhelming. If you were to stay, where did you fit here? Alexia sat with her arm around her girlfriend, their hands linked together under the blanket they shared, you were sure. They were in love, and had a life together. Surely, you staying would just drive a wedge between them? And that was only if Alexia even wanted you to stay.

Both her and Olga seemed to pick up on your increased anxiety, though, finally stepping in after you’d gnawed on all of your nails, and had just pulled so hard at one of your cuticles, it began to bleed. Alexia had paused the movie you’d chosen, disappearing to find a bandage, while her girlfriend turned to face you.

“Hey, pequeña? Are you feeling anxious?” Olga asked gently, fighting back a sad frown at how stricken you looked to be asked so outwardly about your feelings. Your captain returned just in time to hear your shaky response.

“A little.” You admitted.

“Is there anything we can do to make you feel better?” Alexia wondered, insisting on wrapping the adhesive bandage onto your finger herself, though you were more than capable.

You hesitated, chewing on your lip. “The meeting today… Am I staying here? Or being sent somewhere else?” Alexia’s head whipped up to look at you, which wasn’t an obvious good sign or bad sign.

For Alexia, there was never any question. You were staying with her, she’d move heaven and earth to make it happen if she had to. The blonde hadn’t thought to tell you that you were staying with her, because it had never been up for debate. Clearly, though, you were still quite unsure that your captain wanted you around.

You took her silence in a different way, though, now convinced you would be leaving, and began scrambling to assure her that it was okay. You understood. “I get it, Ale, you don’t need me around here, I don’t blame you at all…”

Alexia found her voice finally, looking frantically at her girlfriend. “No! No, nena, you are staying here. You are staying here with us, for as long as you want to. I wouldn’t have you go anywhere else.”

Your captain studied you, feeling a wave of sadness at the expression of shock on your face.

“You want me to stay here?” You asked quietly, almost disbelieving. “Both of you?”

“Yes.” Alexia promised. You fixed your attention on Olga, doubtfully gazing at her. Ale was your captain; but Olga owed you nothing. She just smiled gently at you, though, reaching out to squeeze your hand.

“I want you here too, nena. I promise.”

A beat passed, before you swallowed thickly and nodded. “Thank you.” You were barely able to keep your voice from breaking, but Alexia pulled you into her all the same.

“Don’t thank us. Just believe us.”

Nodding again, you laid your head on her shoulder, trying to ignore the tears falling from your eyes. What a strange feeling it was, to be loved. You’d forgotten.

------

“I don’t want to do this.” You said quietly, not moving to undo your seatbelt even as Alexia turned the car off. “Please don’t make me.”

Your captain didn’t want to make you do anything. She would have been content to let you stay curled up on her couch, where you obviously felt relatively safe. That’s all she wanted; for you to feel safe. There was no way to avoid what came with the legal process, though, and this was a required step.

A familiar pained expression washed over Alexia’s face. “I know. I’m sorry. We have to do this.”

The we Alexia used made you feel a bit weird. It felt mostly like a good thing; like you weren’t alone. At the same time, it was also kind of scary. There was a lack of control that came along with relying on another person, and this was not something you were used to. You only grew paler as you and Alexia exited the car. She kept a guiding hand on your shoulder, and you weren’t convinced she didn't think you were about to bolt.

“What if… what if I just talk to you, instead?” You asked, coming to a complete stop in the middle of the parking lot. With more patience than you thought you deserved Alexia turned back towards you, a sympathetic expression on her face. “No therapist, just you.”

Your captain grabbed your hand, but didn’t tug you any closer to the building. “You can always talk to me pequeña. Always. I know you really don't want to do this, but your social worker is requiring it, as is your lawyer. It sucks, I know it sucks. You just have to do your best and tell her as much as you can. And if it’s awful, we’ll find someone else.”

“If I don’t like her, I don’t have to come back?”

“No. I promise.”

“And you’ll stay in the waiting room?” You hated being so openly vulnerable, but the care that your captain was showing you was making it increasingly difficult to remain stoic.

“Of course. You aren’t doing this alone, nena. Any of it.”

As you got in the elevator, and Ale pushed the button for the therapist office’s floor, you were struck with the thought that she’d so easily calmed your fears and anxieties. Your captain had always been a comforting individual, but when you showed up on her doorstep a few days ago, you never could have expected how easily she’d taken you in. It was like second nature to her, making sure you were okay.

She made taking care of you seem… easy. You’d thought it to be a hard task for a long time. It was a bit astounding, how quickly Ale had you questioning things you’d been believing for years.

Alexia had picked the therapist, you remembered. She’d done the research and found this woman, and for some reason, that made it easier for you to walk into the office and shake the therapist, Elia’s, hand.

It was even easier when Alexia patted you on the cheek and sent you a reassuring smile. “I’ll be right out here if you need me, okay?”

With a nod, you followed the therapist into the room, feeling significantly less anxiety than you’d been feeling a few minutes ago. Odd.

-------

“Ms. Putellas?” Elia peeked her head out of the room, too professional to seem flustered, yet still clearly concerned with something.

The blonde looked up from her phone, knowing very well that it had not been even close to the full hour you were supposed to be in there for. “Yes?”

“Can you join us for a bit? We’re feeling a bit upset, and I think she needs…” Elia trailed off as Alexia lurched to her feet and practically ran into the room. You were crying into your hands, and your captain briefly thought that you’d been reduced to tears an unfair amount of times in the past few days.

“Hey, hey, I’m here.” Alexia soothed, taking a seat on the couch next to you and carefully pulling you into her arms. “It’s okay, I've got you.”

You had been trying to force your tears to stop, still not fully comfortable with being so vulnerable in front of Alexia, and this mostly strange woman sitting across from you. Your captain had such a calming aura about her, and you felt inexplicably better as soon as she took a seat next to you. Alexia was safe.

“I-I…” It was a struggle to get any words out and you weren’t really sure what you were trying to say.

“Just give yourself a minute, focus on breathing.” Alexia coached, exaggerating her own breathing as you tried to match her.

Your therapist watched with a completely impassive face as you clung to the blonde. Her job was to determine your mental wellbeing, as well as figure out if the placement you were in at the moment was the right one. She was quite sure she had her answers, only 20 minutes into the session. You were most definitely not okay. But you were probably in the right place.

It was obvious to her that Alexia was someone you trusted. Someone you felt safe with. You’d tried to just get everything out in the open, thinking if you rushed through the whole story it wouldn’t hurt as much. You had been wrong; you were barely halfway through what you needed to say before you were bursting into tears and quietly asking for Alexia. It wasn’t very common for someone who had endured what you had to so easily trust someone, even outside of the initial situation. But she could see why you trusted Alexia.

The blonde held you protectively, shushing you gently as you cried. All her attention was on you as she tried to calm you down. Not on Elia, not on the way the therapist was taking copious notes. Alexia wasn’t putting on any kind of performance to get to keep you. Her concern was genuinely only with your wellbeing in that moment.

After a few minutes, Alexia leaned you back and handed you your water bottle, encouraging you to take a few sips. Once you’d done that, you used your shirt to wipe your eyes, and turned towards the therapist; though you didn’t meet her gaze.

“Sorry. I thought I could get through that, I didn't mean to freak out.”

“Don’t apologize.” Alexia and Elia said at the same time. You looked between them, caught between amusement and annoyance that they were suddenly ganging up on you.

“You said something to me that I’d like to go back to, if that’s alright.” Elia said. You nodded your agreement, your hand gripping onto Alexia’s as if you were afraid the therapist was going to make her leave. She didn’t do any such thing, and Alexia gave your hand a comforting squeeze.

“You said the way your father acts is your fault.” Next to you, your captain inhaled sharply. “Can you explain to me why you think that?”

You shrugged, suddenly looking very closed off. Elia wasn’t sure if the question had been too much, or if you were too embarrassed to admit the truth in front of Alexia. The rest of the session passed quickly, with you giving very short answers, clearly ready to be done for the day.

She let you go early, though with homework; to try to figure out why you are so reluctant to blame your father for his behavior, and so willing to blame yourself. There was no answer, you thought to yourself. That was just how things were.

-------

It was after your first training session with the team that you brought up your idea. It had been a good day; though everyone seemed to go out of their way to give you a hug or make you laugh, you didn’t mind it. It was as good of a day as you’d had in a while, and you weren’t quite sure why you were so set on ruining it. Your captain could very obviously tell that there was something on your mind; that something had been for a few days.

You were both eating a snack in the kitchen when you finally let her in, and asked what you’d been thinking about asking for a while now.

“Ale?”

“Hmm?” The blonde looked up at you from the banana she was peeling, giving you a very soft and very encouraging smile. It wasn’t like you to start a conversation that seemed serious; normally, she was the one prompting you.

“I… I want to visit my dad. In jail.” You rushed through the sentence, as if Alexia wouldn’t understand but still agree if you spoke fast enough. No luck, though, as Alexia looked at you in surprise. This was clearly not what she had been expecting.

“No, nena, I think that is a really bad idea.” She said firmly.

“I wasn’t asking for permission.” You said without thinking. After a beat, your face flushed red and you tensed with what could only be described as fear. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to say that,”

Slightly puzzled by your panic, she put her snack down and walked around the counter to stand next to you. Cautiously, she put a hand on your back, feeling you relax at her touch.

Now that she thought about it, Alexia had never once seen you advocate for yourself. Never. And from the way you were shrinking under her gaze, you clearly thought you weren’t allowed to disagree with her, or ask for what you needed. She wondered how long it had been since you’d felt safe enough to just… exist. Live. Do things without worrying and worrying about the consequences of the tone of your voice or the things you said. Alexia knew she had to tread carefully; because while she was sure going to visit your dad would not end well for you… she didn’t want to control you.

“You don’t need my permission.” Alexia said gently. “I am not your keeper; you are old enough to make your own decisions, especially about things like this. I just really don’t think it is a good idea. I won’t stop you, nena, but I do not think you should do it.”

You contemplated, looking like you were trying to decide if this was some kind of trick or not. Would she really not be mad if you went against what she wanted? You didn’t want to risk what little peace you’d found in the past week. Nothing was worth that. You were just about to agree with her, drop the idea entirely, when she asked a follow up question, clearly trying to understand your motives.

“Can I ask why you want to see him?”

You worried your lip between your teeth, not entirely sure you knew why yourself. You just… had to see him. If there was a chance for you to get your father back, you’d take it. “If he says sorry…”

“You’ll forgive him?” Alexia tried and failed to keep the disgust out of her voice and you frowned, withdrawing further into yourself. All your captain got was a shrug in response. He’d never said it before, and there was no reason for you to think he would now, but still. You clung to that hope; it was all you had left of your family. And you were so sure that your mother wouldn’t want you to give up on him so easily.

“He’s my dad, Ale.” You mumbled, shrugging out from under her hand and wrapping your arms around yourself. Alexia noticed you do that when you were anxious, or upset; like you were trying to self soothe. She hated it. You didn’t need to do that yourself anymore, she was here, ready and willing to give you all the hugs you could ever need. You looked downright afraid of her in that moment, though, and the blonde had to school her features and take a deep breath before she said anything.

Alexia knew that if she said she didn’t want you to again, you wouldn’t go. Your captain had spent the last week analyzing all of your behavior, talking to your therapist, talking to your teammates, talking to her mother and her girlfriend. Anyone that could give her some insight into how to best help you. She felt like she understood you, on some level, now. Much more than she had before, when you’d just been her little quiet teammate, who did her best to stay in the shadows. There was a complexity to you that she’d missed entirely, but now that she saw it, she realized how desperately you craved her approval. You’d always been closer to her than anyone else, but now you were practically attached at the hip to her. Not that she minded; whatever made you feel safe.

So Alexia knew that your paramount worry was what she thought. And no matter how many times she tried to convince you that you were allowed to make this decision for yourself, she knew you wouldn’t go against what she wanted. She didn’t need to ask if you were sure, either; you wouldn't have brought it up to her if you weren’t.

With a sigh, she relented. “If that's what you want to do, then that’s what we’ll do. I can take you later today?”

Your whole body deflated with relief, and you were diving forward to hug her tightly before you could stop yourself. “Thank you.” You mumbled the words into her shoulder, beyond grateful for her understanding.

She hugged you back, tightly, the now familiar scent of her perfume overwhelming your senses. It didn’t matter how many times she offered you a hug or a kiss on the forehead or a hand to hold; you were pretty sure you’d always be surprised. It was apparent to her that you were understandably touch starved, but you still seemed a little confused why you sunk into her hugs, and were beginning to do the same with Olga’s.

“Of course, pequeña.” Alexia replied, hoping with all of her being that this wouldn’t prove to be a mistake. She had a sinking feeling it would be.

------

His face appeared every time you closed your eyes. More than his empty words, and the careless look in his eyes as he looked at you through the glass. He hadn’t cared that you visited, hadn’t apologized. He’d blamed you for provoking him, somehow. And for what happened after.

And still, his appearance was burned into your mind. You had a bruise across your forehead, and he had a matching one. You’d gotten the stitches out of your cheek the day before, and now he had some in his cheek.

You’d look even more alike, now, with matching scars on your face.

It was like as you healed, and moved on, you transferred your pain to him. Like there was no growth without forgetting. You were leaving him behind buried in grief. The people that loved you were desperately trying to pull you out, and suddenly, you felt like digging your heels in and going limp. Because he was your dad and if he was hurting, shouldn’t you be hurting too? Just as much? Why were you allowed to be happy when he wasn’t able to?

Memories ran through your mind, on repeat. His smile when you scored a goal on him for the first time. His grimace as he saw you walk through the door of your house. His hand on yours, teaching you how to hold a baseball. His hands on you, pushing and pushing; like you were a physical manifestation of his pain, and he wanted it away from him at all costs. A whispered I love you as he and your mom put you to bed after a late night. Not a word uttered while you sobbed, her casket being lowered into the ground.

Was he still in there somewhere? Buried under all the hurt and the pain and the grief, did he still love you? He had to. If he didn’t, you had only yourself to blame. For leaving the house that night and going to Alexia’s. For talking to the police. For pressing charges.

The very small logical part of you knew this wasn’t true, but the overwhelming majority of your brain couldn’t comprehend that you weren’t to blame, that he was. How could you hate someone and love someone at the same time? You were sure you did. You loved him and you hated him. You wanted to never see him again, and you wanted to go back home with him, even if nothing was different.

After everything, you still loved him. How could he not love you? How could he not care, like he’d said was the case inside that jail, with a swollen face and a broken look in his eyes.

You moved like a zombie as you exited the building, and Alexia was quick to jump out of the car and run to you. You were practically in a catatonic state as she reached you, face completely blank. She placed both her hands on your cheeks, worry only growing when you didn’t react other than to flicker your eyes up at her, and then look away.

“Nena?”

No response.

“Sweetheart, are you okay?”

Still, nothing.

Alexia was at a complete loss; you continued to stare blankly just over her shoulder. It felt like you were underwater, your captain’s words mostly unintelligible. A thousand thoughts ran through your head, but really only one broke through. Alexia was talking to you, Alexia was here. You lurched towards the safety that she brought, practically falling into her arms.

“Okay, okay, okay,” Alexia said, wrapping her arms around you just in time before you fell crumpled to the ground. “You’re alright, you’re safe. He’s locked up in there, and you’re out here with me.”

As your captain led you to the car, you wondered if a part of you wasn’t locked up there with him. If you’d ever be able to pry that piece away, and give it back to yourself.

------

“I’m gonna go check on her.” Alexia burst out, attempting to rise to her feet. A hand grabbed her arm, yanking her back down onto the sofa.

“No, Ale.” Olga sighed.

With a dramatic sigh, Alexia flopped onto her side, having been fighting this battle for at least two hours. As soon as you’d both returned home from your visit, still without having said a single word, you disappeared up to the guest room. The blonde had wanted to go after you immediately, but Olga had stopped her, encouraging her to give you time to process whatever had happened on your own. Alexa hadn’t wanted to do that then, and now it had been two hours, and she still hadn’t seen you.

“But-”

“No. Give her time.”

“I’ve given her time, amor. Two whole hours!”

“She must be exhausted, Alexia. Imagine how mentally tiring this all has to be for her. You have to let her work some of this out herself. She can’t decide how she feels if you’re hovering over her asking her the same questions she is asking herself.” As always, everything the brunette was saying made sense, though it still didn’t seem to make the midfielder feel any better.

“What if she needs a hug?” Alexia mumbled, pulling at a loose thread on the couch, glaring at her girlfriend when she slapped the blonde’s hand away from it.

“Maybe you need a hug.” Olga replied, shifting her laptop off her legs, and opening her arms for Alexia. The blonde was only able to hold out for a few seconds, her frown quickly melting away as she sank into the smaller girl’s embrace. One long hug later, Alexia evidently felt better, sliding off her girlfriend’s lap so she could resume her work. The captain reached for her phone, smiling triumphantly to herself when she read the text she’d received.

“Mapi says I should go in there!”

Olga didn’t look up from her computer. “And Ingrid? What does Ingrid say?”

Alexia’s face fell, and she read back through the thread. “To give her time.” She sighed, throwing her phone back onto the couch and ignoring the smirk on her girlfriend’s face. Another entire hour passed before you emerged from your room, shuffling down the stairs, wrapped in one of your mother’s hoodies. Alexia froze, like you were a wild animal she was going to scare off, while Olga remained completely normal, smiling at you and patting the couch in between the two of them.

“Hola, nena. Are you hungry?”

You shrugged, pulling your knees to your chest and attempting to make yourself as small as possible. Alexia continued to stare at her, and if you’d been feeling more yourself, you absolutely would have made fun of her for it. You could barely look at her, feeling horrible that you hadn’t listened to her advice in the first place. At the same time, you knew that there was no part of you that would have been able to move on without the clarity you received today. If you could even call it clarity, if you could even consider moving on.

Sensing that the two of you needed to talk, Olga rose to her feet, shutting her laptop, and affectionately ruffling your hair. “I’ll go get us some pizza for dinner, yes?”

You both agreed, although you did so somewhat begrudgingly. There was a conversation incoming, you knew, and it seemed as though it would include some variation of I told you so.

You wanted to avoid that, and for some reason, decided the best way to accomplish this goal was to just… start talking. As soon as the door was shut behind Olga, you were talking, feeling Alexia watching you carefully.

“He didn’t say sorry. He wasn’t even really that mad, he was just so… indifferent to me. He told me it was my fault, and I knew he’d say that. I don’t-. I think I would be mad at him if… if they hadn’t…”

“If they hadn’t what, nena?” Alexia wondered. Your face had a glazed over look to it, like you weren’t full there with her, but you responded nonetheless.

“They found out he was in for ‘hitting his kid’, he said. And they beat him for it. His face was all messed up, one of his eyes was barely open. He looked so defeated, Ale, and it’s all my fault.”

Alexia was immediately shaking her head. “No. He made his own decisions, and he is facing the consequences of them now. None of that is your fault. That’s what happens to men in prison that hit their kids.”

There was a note of… satisfaction in Alexia’s voice. Like justice had been done.

“He didn’t hit me.” You disagreed weakly.

“No, he broke down your bedroom door and threw a bottle of vodka at your face. He hurt you. That isn’t okay.”

“I know it’s not okay, I know that. But he’s grieving, Ale. He’s hurting too. He misses my mom just like I do, it’s not his fault.” It was as if you were pleading with Alexia to agree with you. To let him off the hook, or maybe… maybe you were pleading with her to stand her ground. And convince you of what you knew was right.

Alexia remained firm, not raising her voice even as you did so. “That is no excuse to hurt you. You have been grieving, too, and-”

“I pushed him once,” you cried, tears suddenly flooding down your face. “I pushed him and he pushed me back but I started it. It’s all my fault, all of this is all my fault.” You dropped your forehead onto your knees, sniffling and gasping for air as you tried to get a hold on yourself. You felt the presence of Alexia next to you, carefully rubbing her hand up and down your back.

“He is an adult, and you are a kid. You didn’t deserve any of this, pequeña. You don’t deserve to be his punching bag just because he is hurting. You are hurting, too, and he should be taking care of you.”

Her voice was soft in your ear, and you wanted to believe her. So badly. “He’s my dad,” you whimpered, lifting your head just enough for the blonde to see your tearstained face, the fresh scar on your cheek. Every day she had to look at it, she knew she’d never forgive him for what he’d done.

“I know.”

“I just want…I want everything to go back to how it was, before she got sick and before he stopped loving me. I want to have a parent again. It’s not fair. ”

“No, cariño, it isn’t fair, not at all.”

It didn’t quite seem like you were hearing Alexia, but she certainly heard the next words out of your mouth.

“I’m all alone,” you choked out. More than anything in the world, you didn’t want to be alone. Even if all you had was your father… at least you had him. At least you had someone. It was ridiculous and completely nonsensical, but you think you would have forgiven him for anything, found a way to blame yourself, if it meant you got to keep the shattered pieces of the family you once had. The pieces cut your hands to shreds, but you held onto them nonetheless, thinking you had no other option. That it was that, or nothing at all.

Hands guided your face up further, and you were surprised to see a fierce look on Alexia’s face. “You are not alone. You will never be alone. Mapi, Ingrid, Irene, Frido, everyone would be there in a heartbeat for you, if you needed them. No one on this team would ever let you be alone.”

Alexia spoke carefully, trying to gauge whether the words were sinking in or not.

“And pequeña, I would never, ever let you be alone. I’ve got you, now. You are important to me, I care about you, and you are not alone. I know you feel like you are, but you aren’t, you absolutely aren’t. I am here now, nena, and I always will be. For as long as you need me, I'll be right here.” She gripped your hand in hers, her rather impassioned speech echoing in your ears.

Maybe, you thought, you could put yourself back together. With your teammates help, with Alexia’s help, it could be accomplished.

You didn't think he could. With your help or without it, he was who he was. And as much as you wanted to, you couldn’t change that. If he wanted to stay in the grief, live in the past, there was nothing you could do to drag him to peace against his will. Maybe he didn’t deserve peace, or happiness.

You weren’t sure that you did, either, but that was another fight, for another day. As Alexia hugged you tightly, as Olga entered through the front door and joined you both on the couch, you didn’t feel lonely for the first time in what felt like forever. Whatever was to come, you weren’t alone in it. You didn’t believe that entirely, yet, but you got the sense that you would, one day. You got the sense that there was someone out there that wouldn’t rest peacefully until you were happy, and safe, and loved.

As suddenly as she had gone, you felt like she was back. Standing next to you in court as you testified against your father. Watching from the stands as you played some of the best football of your life.

Her hand on your shoulder as you moved out of Alexia’s spare room, a year later. A different person than the one that had shown up on her porch, bloody and entirely broken. You felt her right all over, all the time. But especially as you hung her picture up on the wall in your new apartment. The family photos wall, you’d decided.

Your mom wasn’t alone up there. She was surrounded by photos of you and your teammates. Of you laughing and holding trophies and looking like the energetic, happy child she’d known. Alexia helped you hang all the pictures up, and you had an overwhelming sense that your mother, wherever she was, approved of your new family. Maybe, she’d even sent them to you, knowing her girl needed all the love in the world. If there was anything you were sure about, it was that you were loved.

And what a feeling that was.

-------

don't really have to much to say here. let me know what you think! thanks for reading 🫶🏻🥰

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