Ty awoke into a nightmare. The gridiron was gone, his battleground with it. He stared up at a plain tile ceiling bathed in darkness; the curtains of the nearby window were drawn, but no light was trying to spill past their edges anyway. The overly clean, chemical smell of hand sanitiser smothered his every breath, and the silence was broken up by annoyingly repetitive beeps all around. There was even a tube leading from a bag of some clear liquid, dripping down into his arm through a needle right at the inside of his elbow.
He was in a hospital, lying in a bed that was too comfortable. Though his head was foggy, the memories were fresh. He'd fallen, with Kentavious standing over him, holding the ball triumphantly in the air. The victory was so definitive and great the trophy may as well have been Ty's beating heart. Then, with a blink, Ty was in that medical room. All alone.
There was no time to rest. He had to get back out there. The championship was lost, and he was the one who lost it. He'd never make up for that fact with most of his brothers, but he could start making up for himself; next time he and Kentavious met on a football field, he'd rip Kentavious into so many pieces, they'd never be able to put him back together again.
Throwing the covers off, Ty twisted himself around. His left side, from foot to hip, felt a faint numbness alongside pins and needles. Even the rest of him felt sluggish, like everything in his body had the consistency of honey. He tried to stand, and crumpled to the floor, smacking loudly against the tiles.
Ah. How stupid. His body was broken; HE was broken.
He grit his teeth and slammed a fist against the ground, but he couldn't push himself up. So he had to lay there like the worthless worm he was, until a kindly, middle-aged nurse walked in and helped him back into the bed.
Ty said nothing to her. He didn't even acknowledge her. His anger boiled in silence. The nurse left to get the doctor, and in her place entered two people. Two of the people Ty could face the least at that moment, his lowest of lows.
Megan and Coach Hoang came to his side. Ty wanted to ignore them, staring up at the ceiling as if he hadn't noticed them, but even seeing them from the corner of his eye was too much, so he turned his head away.
Megan looked as if she hadn't slept at all; her eyes were red and puffy as well as bloodshot. Coach Hoang's compassion, worry, and understanding was too much, way more than anything Ty deserved at that point. Looking at such a face would've made him sick.
'You gonna ask about the game, Samuels?'
Ty didn't respond for a few moments, but his bedside companions were patient, even as Megan started stroking his nearest arm.
'Did we win?' Ty asked; it was the only important question regarding that game.
'Nope. Fifty-eight to thirty-seven. Doesn't even look close in the end… maybe it never should've been.'
Ty closed his eyes. A 21-point loss. How many touchdowns had Kentavious scored? Five? Six? If Ty could've just cut them in half… that's how pathetic he'd been; that's how wide the gap between him and Kentavious had been.
'I'm sorry,' he said. 'I let everyone down.'
'Don't start with that bullshit, Samuels. The only one's who let anybody down were us coaches. You boys were more than a match for the Longhorns. If we could've planned and schemed better… if we didn't rely too much on how great and talented you all are, then we wouldn't be in this mess.'
'You're the one who's bullshitting!' Ty snapped, turning to Coach Hoang. Megan flinched back, fresh tears forming in her eyes. 'Don't try to take blame for MY failures. I'm the one who crashed and burned. I'm the one who couldn't stop Kentavious. I'm the reason we lost.'
'If you're riling up my patient, I may have to rescind your right to stay and watch over him.'
The new voice came from the doctor who entered with the nurse at his back. While the nurse—who was now carrying a clipboard—was a short, dark woman who looked like she'd bring the best jambalaya you'd ever have to the cookout, the doctor looked straight out of a hallmark movie with his square jaw, dimpled chin, and bright blue eyes.
He strode over to Ty's bedside, as both Megan and Coach Hoang backed away. Megan much more reluctantly.
'My apologies, Doctor Green,' Coach Hoang said.
Dr Green didn't respond as he checked over Ty. 'How are you feeling, Mr Samuels?'
'Would you like to take a guess?'
'Quite the attitude. That's good, actually. Shows we weren't too heavy on the sedatives, though you must be a ball of energy when you don't have so much morphine in your system. However, even if I were to have a million guesses I'd never truly know the complex series of emotions swelling inside you right now, I'm sure. So for now let's stick to pain levels. How badly is your left knee hurting at the moment.'
Morphine. Ty glanced at the drip-bag hanging by his bed, then looked down at his knee again.
'Don't try to move it,' Dr Green added quickly.
Ty slumped down, biting back a laugh. 'I don't think I could if I wanted. It feels like someone else's leg is attached to me, and its eating away the rest of my body.'
'Hahah, quite the colourful description. Well, maybe its fitting. We took an MRI last night. You were sedated then too, and there were various other tests we ran, thankfully apart from the injury to your knee, everything else seemed okay, just that your blood pressure and cortisol levels were a bit too high, understandable for the high-stress situation you were in.'
Ty closed his eyes. Did he want to hear this? If the ground swallowed him again… if he went back to sleep, maybe this was all a dream. Maybe he'd wake up and his leg would be better already. Such fantasies couldn't be reality.
When it was clear Dr Green wasn't going to get the question he was waiting for, he just gave the answer anyway. 'The damage was extensive. Honestly, for someone as young as you, and for a first time injury like this, it's one of the worst tears I've seen. You'll need reconstructive surgery.'
Ty's breathing became shaky. His trembling fists scrunched up his covers, and the grinding of his teeth could be heard if one listened close enough.
Again Dr Green waited for a question that didn't come. One Ty didn't want to hear the answer for, but needed to all the same.
'After the surgery, which can be done today, you're looking at a recovery time of around twelve months, maybe less if you're lucky and stick to your physiotherapy. If not, or if there are further complications… it could be more than a year.
Ty trembled. A year? How could that be possible. The next season was starting in half that time. Summer training camp was well before that. Even then, how the fuck was he supposed to catch up to Kentavious if he was sidelined for twelve months? It wasn't fair. It wasn't right. He didn't deserve that… or did he?
NO!
'FUCK!'
He sat up, tearing at the sheets. Spittle flung from his mouth as he lashed out. Not at anything in particular, but the world itself. He wanted to tear the room apart, to run to a football field or a gym, to throw himself at a wall until either he or it broke. Two strong hands grabbed his shoulders, however, and held him down against the bed. Dr Green restrained him, and the nurse increased his flow of morphine from the drip feed. Ty couldn't do anything. Even though he felt so angry he could explode… slowly, he deflated, and defuse. The anger was still there, roaring, brimming. He was like a volcano, ready to blow, yet no matter how hard he tried he just couldn't erupt… he was impotent.
He slumped back down, and his eyes fell closed again as darkness overtook him.
###
Light assaulted Ty's senses some time later. It was so bright it seemed to drown out even noise. A muffled voice came from nearby, but he couldn't make out its words. Each slow blink was like he was bobbing in and out of consciousness, struggling to keep his head above turbulent waters. He couldn't even be sure if he was awake or still dreaming.
The voice…voiceS grew louder. Three of them? One predominant, the others only speaking now and then, but those two he heard clearest, even if they were softer than the main voice—his mother and father.
The light faded enough that shapes were distinguishable. He saw Dr Green standing with his parents, who were looking at them. His mother's face was full of concern; his father's expression was too complex to read in the brief moment Ty could keep his eyes open.
They were talking about some kind of procedure. Surgery? It'd all be over in less than two hours, they just had to sign permission for him as his parents.
Would the surgery fix him? Could he start playing sooner with it? But he was too weak. He couldn't even open his eyes again, let alone his mouth. Darkness flooded back in.
###
The surgery went smoothly. At least that's what Dr Green told Ty when he awoke again. His knee was heavily bandaged, and even braced. While he wouldn't be walking on it anytime soon, he was allowed to leave that day.
His whole family was there, staring at him, the cripple, as he lay there with his rotten leg on display. Dr Green was telling them how to care for little broken Ty—he'd need lots of rest, and to stay off his feet for as much as a week. Even after that he'd only be allowed to move around on crutches, which can always take some getting used to so it'd be best to accommodate him as much as they could.
So utterly humiliating. Though its not like they'd do anything of the sort. At most, Megan would be even more cloying. Maybe Devon really would kill him for no doubt screwing up whatever bet the idiot had made. Ty might even let him as long as it got him out of this fucking hospital, and away from everyone's pity.
Mr and Mrs Samuels listened quietly, and remained quiet even when Dr Green asked if they had any questions for him.
Eventually, mercifully, Ty was discharged, though not without one final ignominy. Whilst crutches were provided by the hospital, they were not the tool which would carry him from the wretched room he'd been holed up in too long. (even if he wouldn't remember most of his stay.) Instead, there was a wheelchair brought in for him, which Dr Green insisted he used.
Dr Green himself wheeled Ty through the halls, and Coach Hoang was right by his side.
'Now, I'd never want one of my players to end up in one of these… but I'd be lying if I said seeing you in one didn't bring a little smile to my face, Samuels.'
Coach Hoang was definitely smiling more than "a little." Unfortunately, Ty didn't share in his mirth. He found no humour or happiness in the situation. A situation that only got worse once the doors to the outside opened, and Ty was reunited with the rest of the Dons.
They stood, huddled together at the side of the hospital's entrance, all waiting with expectant faces. Some smiled at seeing him, others looked more shocked and horrified at his state, as if expecting him to walk out on his own two feet. Some called out to him with an excited greeting, and others still looked sad to be there at all.
Dr Green handed Ty the crutches. Once Ty was out of the chair, the doctor took his leave.
'What's the verdict, Tyrese?' Coach Long asked. Everyone looked even more expectant.
Ty glanced down at himself and shrugged. 'The doctor said it was an ACL tear. With reconstructive surgery it could be maybe twelve months before I'm on the field again.'
'Shit…' Stephen muttered, drawing a furious look from Coach Long.
The news had hit everyone pretty hard, even JJ, though he masked it well before stepping up to Ty and gently clasping his shoulder.
'Then in twelve months you'll be back, stronger and better than ever. Because that's the Ty I know.'
But the Ty JJ knew was the same Ty who had cost them all the championship.
As if reading his mind, Deshaun spoke up and said: 'And don't blame yourself for nothing. You gave your all and then some. It ain't your fault we came up short.'
'Like a freshy could have such an impact on the game anyway,' Stephen said; his joke met a mixed reception.
'Just like… don't get hung up on the past… you gotta look forward to the future… or whatever.'
Encouragement came from all sides, and Ty knew it was genuine, yet he still wasn't convinced by them. Of course it was his fault. Who else could be at fault?
Though Jay was right. He couldn't get hung up on the past, though he would remember it. It'd be the ultimate motivation. He'd lost. He'd broken his promise, and paid for doing so with his body. Now he had twelve months to change into a greater version, to evolve from some broken, worthless loser into a champion without equal. Yet he couldn't wait the full twelve months.
A year of rehabilitation would have to be condensed into six months of hell. The gridiron waited for no-one, and Ty would NOT let it pass him up. The next national champion would be HIM.