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croatian-magician · 6 years ago

Text

Crimson red

Pairing: Rakidric

Summary: Alternate universe where Ivan gets hurt badly during the game against Argentina

Word count: 5202

Warnings: angst, blood, violence (aka someone getting punched in the face), Luka needs a hug

A powerful rush of adrenaline was running down Ivan’s veins. They were winning. Luka just scored a beautiful goal and they were beating Argentina 2-0. He could almost hear the timer ticking closer to the end of the game, closer to their victory, but now wasn’t the time to be lazy and to let their opponents strike back. Also, he was sure they could do better, sure they could fool the Argentinian defense once more.

The team shared his opinion, it seemed, because they kept fighting, harder and harder, while the Argentinian players grew more desperate, but also angrier. The whistle of the referee resonated now and then, sure, but it didn’t do much to calm the hot-heated players.

Putting the game first was hard when Ivan’s instincts screamed at him to keep an eye on Luka, to make sure that he would not be injured. What if he received a bad blow? What if he got injured and couldn’t play for the rest of the competition? He restrained himself from worrying too much, though. Luka was a grown-up man and one of the best midfielders in the world, if not the best. He could take care of himself.

For now, all Ivan needed to think about was the ball at his feet and what he had to do to make it cross the line of their opponent’s net. He was planning his next pass carefully, but fell off balance when another player collided with him. Ivan fell onto the ground, his hands grasping the fresh grass. Once more, the sound of the whistle came to his ear as the referee got closer to scold the Argentinian player who hurt him.

Ivan quickly checked his limbs, but found out that everything was alright. No big injury came from this contact. He was about to get up when suddenly something hit him on the head. Hard. A sharp pain wrecked his skull as he felt something red and warm running down his cheeks.

Before he could process what happened to him, everything went white.

Luka had Ivan’s blood on his hands. He was in a crowded emergency room, where everyone gave him weird looks and all he could think about was the deep red liquid staining his shaking fingers. The black jersey sticking to his back was splattered with red, too.

The same images were running through his mind, again and again, as if he had never left the field. He could clearly see Otamendi striking the ball, aiming for Ivan’s head. And then there was the blood, so much blood. The screams, too, as his team mates shouted at the medical staff to come help Ivan, quickly.

In this chaos, Luka ran, ran until he was kneeling in a puddle of Ivan’s blood. With a quivering hand, he reached for Ivan’s face, hoping to meet his striking green eyes. But they were closed and his eyelids were covered with blood, blood and even more blood. Luka called his name, but Ivan didn’t answer. His skin looked pale, so pale compared to the red streams running down the valleys of his cheeks and forehead.

Before he could try to shake Ivan awake, a member of the medical staff pushed him away. His lack of politesse scared Luka. Was Ivan in such a bad state, for them to hurry so much? Yes, there was blood, gallons of it, on the ground, on his hands, on Ivan’s hair, but that didn’t mean anything, right? In previous games, he had seen Vedran and Domagoj suffering from head injuries only to come back into the pitch a few minutes later. Vedran water polo cap even became some kind of Croatian legend. So Ivan would get up any second now and smile at Luka and tell him everything was alright…

Except he didn’t.

Then, Luka heard it. A doctor saying Ivan had to be taken to a hospital in emergency. At that, Luka panicked and he looked around frantically, looking for any kind of help. He met Suba’s stare and his own fear reflected in them. The fear to lose a team mate on the pitch.

He was about to run in his childhood friend’s arms for comfort when he got distracted. Somewhere from behind him, he heard that Otamendi was getting a yellow card. Only a yellow. Not a red, red like Ivan’s blood, red like the anger building in his chest and blinding him.

Red like the card Luka himself received when he punched Otamendi in the face.

Looking back on it, he had no regrets, even though his conscience insisted that he should feel at least a little bit guilty for falling prey to violence. Sure, he left his team down to ten, but he wouldn’t have been able to keep playing anyway, it could feel it in his bones, in the violent shivers that shook his whole body.

Then it was all a blur, how he had gotten from the pitch to this hospital. He followed the stretcher carrying Ivan, ignoring the medical team who tried to convince him to go back to the bench. He vaguely remembered arguing his way so he could get into the ambulance with Ivan. He recalled his own voice bragging about his celebrity, about his wealth, about how there would be consequences if they didn’t accede to his request.

Usually, he refused to use such low methods, but Ivan was hurt and Luka needed to be by his side, so he would be here, holding his hand, if things turned out wrong, if his boyfriend were to never step out of that ambulance.

Of the ride, all he remembered was his fingers intertwined with Ivan’s lifeless ones and the surge of hope that went through Luka when he saw a pulse on the screen monitoring his heartbeat. He hang onto that line, knowing that he would crash down and never recover if it were to turn flat.

Ivan made it to the hospital but this time, the doctors didn’t let Luka stay with him any longer. There were reassuring hands on his shoulders, firm voices telling him to go to the waiting room while Ivan would undergo surgery.

And so here he was, surrounded by curious people. They recognized him, he was sure. When he arrived there, a screen was showing the last seconds of the game. Argentina had scored a goal, which wasn’t surprising due to their number superiority. However, Croatia had answered back almost immediately and that was a small miracle all by itself. At that thought, a strange bitterness filled Luka’s mouth. Because right now, It wasn’t his team that needed a miracle. Ivan did.

Luka didn’t care about the numbers on the screen anymore, didn’t care about who won 3 to 1. All that mattered was Ivan, Ivan who was fighting for his life in another room while Luka could do nothing but stare at the dried blood on his fingers.

Somewhere in the room, a child started to cry and Luka could feel the angry stare of his mother focused on him, on his red hands. He couldn’t blame her, really. Right now, with his empty stare, there had to be something terrifying about him. More than enough to feed the fears of a small kid, at least.

Maybe that was why no one came to him, why no one tried to snatch an autograph or a picture out of him, even though they knew who he was. Not out of sympathy, but because he looked like a dangerous serial killer at the moment, ready to murder someone. Also, he just punched a guy in the face on national TV. Not the best way to get people to like you.

Luka knew that he was better than that, than this raging anger consuming him. He was a kind man, always ready to help, never prone to violence. Except today. Except when Ivan’s life was on the line. Just knowing there was a possibility that Ivan wouldn’t make it out of surgery…

Luka felt like throwing up and he envisaged rushing to the nearest bathroom to spit his stomach out, but his legs were too wobbly for him to stand. So he just swallowed the bile down and waited in his seat while staring at the white wall in front of him.

He barely responded when Suba joined him in the waiting room. Had it already been this long since the end of the game against Argentina? Luka had no idea. In his mind, time didn’t exist anymore. He was lost and all he could focus on was the reminiscence of Ivan’s face painted in crimson red.

His friend didn’t say anything before engulfing him in a tight, almost painful hug. Luka’s eyes grew wide at the touch. Suddenly, he regretted not going to Suba at the end of the game. This was what he needed, someone reassuring him. A sob came out of his throat and he spilled tears on the goalkeeper’s shoulder. This time, Luka could hear disrespectful people taking pictures of them behind their back. He didn’t care. Not when there was so much more at stake.

“Danijel…”

“I know, Luka, I know. I’m here.”

He didn’t promise him that Ivan would make it out alive and Luka knew he wouldn’t. When their eyes met, he could tell the memories of Hrvoje were haunting his friend more than ever. A wave a guilt crashed on him. Right now, he wasn’t the only one suffering, his friends were certainly worrying too. And yet, they had kept playing until the very last minute of the game, working to make their country proud, when Luka had only shown weakness and selfishness. He felt like the worse human being on the planet and it made him cry even more.

“You’re not alone in this, Luka, I’m here. We need to get you cleaned up. Follow me, please?”

Luka nodded his agreement and Suba took his hand, leading him to the bathroom as if he was a small child, not caring about the blood still covering them. After that, he helped Luka to wash every red spot on his skin. The smaller man watched the water changing to a brownish, dirty color before it disappeared down the drain and that sight made him feel sick, too.

He didn’t make it to a toilet seat and emptied the content of his stomach on the sink, coughing and crying until everything was out while Danijel rubbed his back in a comforting motion. Then he rinsed his mouth once, twice, all the times it took to get rid of the sour taste clinging to his tongue.

Once it was done, he sat at the edge of the sink, shaking once again. Right now, he needed Ivan’s kisses to feel better, needed to see Ivan’s cocky smile and shining eyes to chase all his demon’s away. But Ivan wasn’t there, he was in surgery and maybe he wouldn’t ever come back, maybe Luka would never get to tell him again how much he loved him.

“Luka, look at me. Do you want to talk? It can be about anything.”

No, it couldn’t be about anything, not when Luka’s mind was filled with Ivan, Ivan and Ivan alone.

“They… They took him into surgery… Ivan… He’s hurt and there’s nothing I can do to help him. All I managed was to jeopardize the future of our team in the world cup by acting recklessly, because I’m useless here, I’m sorry I left you all alone on the pitch, but I had to be with him, I had to…”

Before he could break down, Danijel pulled even closer to him. Luka’s chest was heaving and he was struggling to breathe, but the proximity of his friend helped him to fight the panic.

“You don’t have to be sorry for anything, Lukita. You love Ivan. Your place is here, near him, to be there when he’ll wake up. You wouldn’t have been able to focus on the game anyway, we both know that. So stop beating yourself over it.”

“Wait, you mean you knew? For me and Ivan, I mean?”

Suba let out a sad laugh, just as Luka’s mind started to race once more.

“Of course I knew. You two were a bit obvious. Most of the team already found out, including the coach, but we didn’t say anything to respect your privacy. We were waiting for you two to tell us.”

“You were… Fuck, I’m such an idiot!” Luka cried out as another memory crashed onto him, erasing everything else around him.

It was the night before the game against Argentina. A soft wind was blowing outside and the moon was shining brightly. It could have been a peaceful evening, if Luka hadn’t been so worried about the match to come. He was walking around in his hotel room while thinking about strategy, his fists clenched tight. No matter what he did, nothing seemed enough to release the pressure on his shoulders.

However, a breeze of relief fell upon him when Ivan wrapped his arms around his waist from behind him. Luka closed his eyes and let his head rest against his boyfriend’s chest, suddenly more at peace.

“Stop worrying, we’ll have enough time to speak strategy with the coach tomorrow. You should come to bed now.”

“Yes, I guess you’re right.” Luka replied, turning around so he could leave a quick kiss on his lips.

Ivan smiled then grabbed his hand, gently guiding him between the covers. Luka cuddled next to him, glowing with happiness as his boyfriend took him in his arms once more. Ivan kissed him with more passion before changing target as he started sucking on his neck. Luka’s finger gripped the sheets and he had to bite his lower lip to stifle a moan. His lover started to wander lower with the firm intention to go down on him, but Luka stopped him.

“No, Ivan, we can’t do that. Not here.”

“What, afraid I’ll leave you too exhausted to play tomorrow?” Ivan struck back with a cocky smirk.

“It’s not that. The others could hear us. You know quite well how…vocal we can get.”

“We? Usually you’re the one shouting my name.”

Luka blushed a deep red and Ivan chuckled before leaving a gentle kiss on his nose.

“Did I manage to get you all flustered? Not that I’m complaining. You look so cute like that.”

“Stop making fun of me! And yes, maybe I’m the one making noise, but that doesn’t change anything. We can’t do this here.”

This time, Ivan rolled to the other side of the bed, a more serious expression on his face. Luka sensed the change in his behavior and he could tell a strong storm was brewing.

“So that’s how it is? We’re never going to come out?”

“To the rest of the team? Well, maybe one day, once we’re sure it won’t cause trouble. But right now, we can’t take the risk to jeopardize the team’s balance, not before an important game.”

“I wasn’t only talking about the team. It’s just… I wish we didn’t have to hide our love. I wish I could hold your hand when we’re going outside or kiss you when we’re celebrating a goal.”

“Wait, so you’re saying you’d want us to come out… to the whole world?”

Ivan took a deep breath and his eyes avoided Luka’s. His voice shook a little when he answered:

“Yes. That’s what I’d want.”

“Listen, Ivan, I’d like to have this too, but it’s not reasonable. Too many people would judge us and it could get in the way of our careers. Also…”

“Yeah, I already know about it. It was just a stupid idea. Forget about it.”

“Ivan, wait…”

But his boyfriend was already curled up on his own side of the bed, pretending to be asleep when he clearly wasn’t. Luka considered calling him on his bluff, but he feared it would only lead to a fight between them. They were both on edge because of the up-coming game, now was not the time to discuss life-changing decisions. So he settled on hugging Ivan tightly, taking the role of big spoon for once.

Guilt suddenly invaded Luka’s mind as realization dawned upon him. It had been his last moment of intimacy with Ivan and he had ruined it in fear of having their relationship discovered when everyone in the team already knew about it. Maybe Ivan stepped into the pitch while still thinking about their argument, doubting his love for him, maybe he would never wake up, maybe Luka would never be able to tell him just how sorry he was.

“Luka, you’re drifting off again.” Danijel gently told him.

“Yes, sorry… I… It’s just…”

“No need to explain yourself. I know it’s hard. The coach told me he needed to see you, though. Do you think you’re strong enough to do that?”

“I… Yes, yes I am.”

At least, he needed to be. He couldn’t give up on the rest of the team, couldn’t fail them like he had already failed in taking care of Ivan.

“Let’s go then. But don’t forget, I’m here if you need any support.”

Luka nodded weakly, but he still followed Danijel through the hospital’s long corridors. Hhe was thankful his friend was there was there to guide him, because he was so lost he would never have found his way back on his own.

Zlatko Dalic was waiting in another room with the rest of Luka’s team mates. The captain realized that he could have asked somewhere more private to stay earlier, had he not been so confused at the time. All of his friends hugged Luka tightly, whispering words of reassurance in his ear. He was thankful to have them here, thankful not to be alone anymore.

Just a few minutes later, a doctor entered the room, before the coach could talk to Luka. The captain’s heart stopped as he stared at the woman, not knowing what to make out of her expressionless face.

“Is there anything new about Ivan? Is he out of surgery? Is he alright?”

“Please calm down. Your friend made it out alive of the operation. However, I can not tell you when he will wake up.”

Ivan was alive. At first, that was all that mattered to Luka. His boyfriend was out of danger. Luka would be able to kiss him once more, to tell him how sorry he was, to tell him that he was proud to be with him and that no one in this world could change his mind about it.

But still, something in the doctor’s tone felt wrong.

“What do you mean, you don’t know when he will wake up? If it take a few hours, that’s not a problem. I’m not leaving this place without Ivan.”

“It’s not that easy. It could take him only hours to wake up, yes, but it could also take him days, months or even years. You should prepare yourself for that.”

“What, no! It can’t be! Ivan is strong, he’s gonna wake up any moment, I’m sure!” Luka protested, but all he received was a look full of pity.

“Don’t worry, we’ll take care of him.” Vedran told the doctor, sadness in his voice and she nodded before leaving them.

Luka forced himself to stay strong. He couldn’t freak out, even though every cell in his body told him to do it. He needed to be there for his team, because they were all worried about Ivan too.

“Okay, coach, just tell me what you have to. It’s about what happened during the game, I’m sure. Listen, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have lost my composure, but…”

Dalic put a firm, supporting hand on his shoulder and Luka suddenly felt like crying again.

“No one here is blaming you for what you did, Luka. We all know how much Ivan matter to you. However, we can’t let people believe the captain of our team is prone to violence. Listen, I know it will be hard, but it would be good if you made a public declaration. To apologize for what you did to Otamendi. Not for him, but for you, Luka. I wouldn’t want you to lose more than you already have”

Dalic kept on talking, but Luka wasn’t listening anymore. He had to apologize to Otamendi. Because of the Argentinian player, there was a chance that Ivan would never wake up, but Luka had to apologize to him. Publicly.

Deep down, he knew it would mean being the better man, proving to be wiser. But he couldn’t see it now, not when it felt as if the room was closing on him. So Luka did the first thing that came to his mind. He rushed out of the room, running away from the dark thoughts plaguing him, running away from his team mates.

He didn’t watch where he was going and only stopped once he found himself in an empty storage room. He sat down next to a self and buried his face between his knees. No matter what people expected of him, he couldn’t do it right now. Sure, the press would expect quick reactions from him, but he just couldn’t do it right now. Not when he deemed himself too weak.

At some point, he even told himself that he should have been the injured one, that Ivan would have been better than him at dealing with this. Not that he wished any pain on Ivan, but Luka would easily give his life if it meant his boyfriend would wake up.

By the time someone found him, Luka’s tears had dried on his cheeks and he had no more to spill. He expected Danijel to come to reason him, or maybe the coach himself, so he raised an eyebrow when Mario sat down next to me.

“I can’t believe they sent Mr No Good himself to lecture me on violence.” Luka laughed bitterly.

“Don’t be stupid, I was the first to find you, that’s all. But you should still do what the coach says and go talk to the press. I hate it as much as you do, trust me. And to be honest, that bastard would certainly be in a worse state if I had gotten to him before you. However, I’m sure Ivan wouldn’t want you to get into such a mess, not even for him. You know what he would have wanted.”

Luka stared at the ceiling, but his eyes grew firm with determination.

“Yeah, you’re right. I should do what Ivan would have wanted.”

The press conference left Luka exhausted. It was almost a miracle that he managed to go through it, but when he closed the door, he was filled with a warm feeling of accomplishment. It didn’t take long for him to start worrying again, though.

For the first time since the game, he was allowed to go into Ivan’s room, so he could watch over him. There was an impressive bandage wrapped around his lover’s head but at least it was clean and no blood was leaking out. Luka guessed that was a good thing.

Ivan eyes were still closed, though. Luka gently brushed his knuckles against his face, afraid to hurt him but yearning to see his boyfriend look at him. But Ivan didn’t stir and Luka felt like sobbing again. He restrained himself. He didn’t know if Ivan had any way of hearing him, but if that was the case, he didn’t want him to worry.

“It’s me, Ivan. Luka. I’m here and I’m not going anywhere until you get better.”

No response. Luka was tempted to climb into the bed to cuddle with Ivan the way they did every night, but he feared it would worsen his lover’s injuries. So he settled on sitting next to him while holding his boyfriend’s hand. It felt warm in his and Luka squeezed it tightly, hoping the gesture would be enough to convey all his love.

“Please, don’t leave me, Ivan. You’ll see, everything we’ll be better when you wake up, I promise. So please, come back to me. To us. The whole team’s waiting for you too. Dejan and Sime are so worried they’ve stopped singing Marica. Domo didn’t pour beer on anyone when we won. We can’t function without you, Ivan. I can’t function without you…”

So much for not crying. Luka buried his face in the covers on Ivan’s bed, trying his bed to muffle his sobs. It hurt, so much that his chest felt like exploding. He hoped for a miracle, but Ivan stayed still and Luka started drifting off to sleep and to nightmares filled with blood.

Luka jolted awake when he felt a hand on his head. At first he thought it belonged to a monster belonging to his dreams, ready to crush his skull. Then he realized that the touch was gentle and that the little caresses on his hair felt nice and familiar. His eyes fluttered open and Ivan welcomed him with a happy but tired smile.

“Hello, sleeping beauty. I thought you would never wake up.”

“What… I mean, how… Ivan, you’re…”

“Alive? Of course. You should know it takes more than a simple blow to take me out.”

Luka didn’t think twice. His lips crashed against Ivan’s as he jumped into his arms. His boyfriend winced though, and he immediately let it go.

“Ouch, watch out. I may be tough, but I’m still recovering.”

“Don’t joke about that. I was so worried, Ivan, you have no idea…”

Ivan cupped his face in his hands, all the while looking at him with an adoring look in his eyes.

“Actually, I have an idea. I must have something like a billion messages on my phone about how you declared your undying love to me in front of the cameras just a few hours ago.”

Luka blinked, confused, then he remembered. He saw himself getting in the room filled with journalists waiting for an explanation. He recalled his own lips moving as he apologized for succumbing to violence instead of keeping his calm. However, he didn’t stop here. No, he also explained why he had acted with such spontaneity. Luka faced the whole world without fear as he revealed everything about his love for Ivan and his fear of losing him. Somehow, he had managed not to cry, not until he could go back to Ivan’s side at least.

But now that he was staring straight at Ivan’s green eyes, Luka began to panic. The last day looked like a blur to him, all his actions lead by the painful abyss in his chest. However, Ivan was awake now and he would have to face the consequences of Luka’s declaration to the press, even in his weakened state. Guilt started to plague the small captain. What if Ivan didn’t mean it when he said he wanted to come out? What if Luka exposed him without his consent? Then maybe Ivan would leave him, and he’d had every right to do so, because…

“Hey, Lukita, you alright?”

Luka nodded, but Ivan didn’t buy his lie.

“What is wrong? I know I don’t look my best, but I’m not going anywhere, promise.”

“It’s not that. Are you… Are you mad at me? For what I said during that press conference? Because you need to know I’m sorry, that I was so lost at the time and thought you might never wake up, even though that’s no excuse but…”

“Wow, calm down. I’m not angry at you, Luka, not even one bit. I actually caught a video of it while you were sleeping and you were perfect. This… This is what I’ve wanted since forever. So thank you. Thank you so much.”

“You’re not saying this just so I can feel better?”

“Luka, there’s a pair of rings waiting in my locker right now. I’ve been carrying it everywhere except on the pitch, so unluckily I don’t have them on me right now. Because if I did, I would already be down on one knee.”

“You… You must be kidding. There’s no way you actually planned to…”

“Try me.”

Luka knew that fierce look. It was the one Ivan always wore before fighting against him in a clasico. His boyfriend only looked like that when he was determined to win. This time, Luka kissed him with passion, though he restrained himself to make sure Ivan wouldn’t get hurt.

“Don’t worry, we’ll go fetch those rings together soon enough.”

“I can’t wait. At least when I’ll be your official fiancé, I’ll get to make you moan and scream without having you worrying about the rest of the team finding out.”

“Do you really have to bring that back?”

“What? I love your voice, that’s all.”

The chuckle in Ivan’s words disappeared when he saw that Luka was withdrawing on himself. So he wrapped an arm around his shoulder, drawing him close.

“What’s wrong? Spill it out, you’ll feel better.”

“Don’t you understand? I almost lost you and all I could think about was how much I disappointed you the last time we spent some time alone. I thought it would haunt me forever.”

“Oh, Lukita, you never disappointed me. I’m sorry if I acted a bit harshly, I was on nerves before that game. If everything, I’m the one at fault here for pressuring you and making you worry. So let’s just forget about it, okay? I want my future fiancé to know just how thankful I am to have him.”

“Now someone’s playing the romantic card.”

“No, for real, Luka, don’t you dare feel bad about any of this. You’re making me the happiest man on earth just by staying here with me.”

“If you say so. Now, I should go tell the others that you’re awake and fine.”

Luka was about to leave, but before he could do that, Ivan gripped him by the midriff and threw him on the bed. The smaller man yelped when he found himself in his boyfriend’s arms, with Ivan grinning like a fox.

“I think I’d rather keep you here with me for a little longer. Also, you look tired and I’m sure you need some more sleep.”

“But Ivan, our friends, they’re so worried…”

“Already sent them messages to tell them I was alive and kicking. Now can we please cuddle?”

“Of course, we can. But don’t you dare frighten me like that ever again, you idiot.”

“You sure? Seeing you punching people in the face can be pretty distracting.”

“Ivan!”

“Just kidding. I’ll do my best to stay out of trouble. Now, we need to rest for next game.”

“Like hell the coach and I are letting you play with that injury.”

“Don’t underestimate me. I need to score a goal so I can propose to my future fiancé on the pitch.”

“You’re such a dork.”

“Yeah, but you love it.”

Luka snuggled a bit closer to his chest, until he could hear Ivan’s reassuring heartbeat.

“Okay, maybe, but that’s only because you’re my dork.”

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#luka modric #ivan rakitic #rakidric #football slash #croatia nt #angst #fic #my writing #rakitic x modric

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