Chapter Text
[ESPN FC—LIVE]
UEFA Champions League—Round of 16, First Leg
Manchester United vs Bayern Munich
Old Trafford, Manchester
Alex Dickson: This really promises to be a spectacular European night. Manchester United hosting Bayern Munich.
Tom Higgins: You really don't get much bigger than this. Two European giants and a place in the quarter finals very much on the line.
Alex Dickson: Bayern get us underway, moving it across the back line... Kim into Wang... closed down quickly by Niall Horan.
Tom Higgins: United have made that high press a real trademark this season. They don't give you a second to settle.
Alex Dickson: Bayern forced long... comfortably dealt with by Luca Schmidt. Liam Payne picks up the second ball... now Julio Fernandes.
Tom Higgins: Already looking for Louis Tomlinson.
Alex Dickson: Fernandes finds him between the lines. Excellent first touch to spin away from Souza.
Tom Higgins: That's what he's become so good at. Half a yard is all he needs.
Alex Dickson: Tomlinson driving forward now... still going... slips it wide for Williams.
Tom Higgins: Lovely weight on the pass.
Alex Dickson: Williams cuts inside... curls one toward the far corner...
Tom Higgins: Just past the post.
Alex Dickson: Encouraging start from Manchester United.
Tom Higgins: And Louis Tomlinson already looks sharp. Bayern are going to have to stay tight to him all evening.
Alex Dickson: What a season he's put together.
Tom Higgins: Outstanding. Twenty-eight goals in all competitions coming into tonight, and he's added plenty of assists as well. He's become the focal point of this United attack.
Alex Dickson: You'd struggle to find many forwards in Europe in better form.
Tom Higgins: And with England's World Cup squad only a couple of months from being announced, David Ashcroft will surely be delighted with what he's seeing.
Alex Dickson: Bayern trying to slow the tempo. Mendes into Davies... intercepted brilliantly by Liam Payne.
Tom Higgins: That's excellent anticipation.
Alex Dickson: Payne quickly into Fernandes... first time to Tomlinson.
Tom Higgins: Lovely little flick around the corner.
Alex Dickson: Horan's through the middle now... back to Tomlinson at the edge of the area...
Tom Higgins: He'll fancy this.
Alex Dickson: Left-footed effort—
Tom Higgins: Blocked well.
Alex Dickson: Bayern survive.
Tom Higgins: United are asking all the questions here.
Alex Dickson: Fifteen minutes played, still goalless, but it's the home side looking the more dangerous.
Tom Higgins: Bayern haven't really found an answer for Tomlinson's movement. He's dragging defenders all over the place.
Alex Dickson: Kim rolls it short... Bayern building again... Kelly loses possession.
Tom Higgins: That's unlike him.
Alex Dickson: Fernandes wastes no time. One pass and Tomlinson's in behind!
Tom Higgins: He's timed that run beautifully.
Alex Dickson: Tomlinson sprinting toward the penalty area... Kelly chasing... another defender coming across—Oh, that's a heavy challenge!
Tom Higgins: Very late.
Alex Dickson: Tomlinson's gone down clutching his left leg, and the referee blows immediately.
Tom Higgins: Bayern won't be able to argue with this one. That’s a yellow card for sure.
Tom Higgins: Let's have another look.
Alex Dickson: Tomlinson knocks the ball past him and then the defender comes right through him. That's not pretty.
Alex Dickson: He gets a touch on the ball, but his studs come straight through Tomlinson afterwards.
Tom Higgins: That's the kind of tackle players hate this stage of the season.
Alex Dickson: The physios are already making their way onto the pitch.
Tom Higgins: He's holding the back of that left thigh.
Alex Dickson: That's never what you want to see. Old Trafford has gone very quiet. But you see, with football you never know what you’re gonna get. It's a tough game.
Tom Higgins: Tomlinson's sitting up now. That's encouraging.
Alex Dickson: You can see how the whole atmosphere in the stadium has changed, every eye is set on Tomlinson as the medical staff has a chat with him.
Tom Higgins: It’s definitely a tough moment, especially since United had been having a great game tonight.
Alex Dickson: Tomlinson is back on his feet and he's testing his left leg.
Tom Higgins: He’s nodding to the medical staff, seems like he’s going to continue in the match.
Alex Dickson: And listen to that reception. I mean, it’s definitely a relief for everyone watching tonight.
Tom Higgins: Brave decision, but that’s just the player Tomlinson is. It’s no wonder he's coming back to this kind of reaction.
Alex Dickson: Play resumes. Tomlinson receives it again, simple pass to Fernandes. Unlike him.
Tom Higgins: I mean, that’s to be expected from a player regaining his footing. Playing a little more carefully, not as explosive as Tomlinson usually plays.
Alex Dickson: Bayern regain possession... Kim sends it wide... United recovering...
Tom Higgins: Tomlinson's trying to get back, he can’t get there.
Alex Dickson: He pulled up. Tomlinson looking a bit uncomfortable on the pitch.
Tom Higgins: He was about to accelerate, then immediately stopped. You don’t see this kind of play from someone on his level unless there’s something wrong.
Alex Dickson: And he's looking back toward that left leg again. That's not a good sign.
Tom Higgins: No, he's barely jogging now.
Alex Dickson: Tomlinson glances over toward the Manchester United bench and he's raising his hand. That's the signal.
Tom Higgins: He's asking to come off.
Alex Dickson: It’s really a shame, Tomlinson has been coming from a number of successful matches, it’s definitely a huge lost for United tonight. A player with this level of skill is definitely an important factor in the team’s plays.
Tom Higgins: I agree with you there. That’s certainly a massive concern for Manchester United, but this close to the National Team call-outs, it’s perhaps an even bigger concern for England.
***
“Fuck, fuck, fuck!”
The pain shoots straight through his thigh, making Louis’ eyes water. It hadn’t been too bad on the pitch, he even thought he would manage to finish the game. Louis was quick to realized he was wrong though, and whenever he tried to go for the ball he would feel his leg straining. Still, he could walk, and he didn’t feel like he would die.
He does now.
“It’s definitely a muscle tear. His bone structure is fine.” The doctor, someone who Louis honestly wishes he could kick—maybe if he’s leg was in a better condition—, continues on with his prodding fingers, moving around Louis’ thigh and making him groan each time. “Get the physio team, but he’s gonna need an MRI anyway.”
Louis groans again, but this time in frustration. He can still faintly hear the cheers outside, the game continuing on without him. He aches to go back out there, where he belongs. But this—the pain, the talk about exams, of physiotherapy—can’t mean anything good.
He watches with a pained expression as the doctor leaves, the other people in the room finishing up with their tasks before moving on as well—going to call physio, scheduling his exam, setting up a car to take him. It all feels very concerning and the immeasurable pain in his leg does little to appease his worries.
“Louis, how are you feeling? How’s the pain?” Greg asks once it’s just the two of them, his forehead furrowed and his hair sticking out in every direction. He’s always chipper, a good man to have around during practice, giving out coach’s instructions with a usually calmer tone. It’s disturbing to see him actually looking anxious.
“Hurts like hell.” Louis grunts out, because he’s not going to lie just to appease the man’s concerns. “Don’t I get some meds or something?”
“Not until they fully evaluate the damage.” Greg actually looks sorrowful so Louis holds back on the insults ready on his tongue. It’s not like giving out drugs is in the job description of a Tactical Analyst anyway. “I’m gonna head over and talk to Jones, but I’ll be back soon. Do you need anything?”
Something that’ll make his leg stop feeling like someone is tearing a piece out with a knife, but Greg clearly can’t help with that. So Louis lets him go, knowing that his coach is probably pacing the sidelines by now, waiting for an update. He’s not the most patient man under normal circumstances, god only knows how he’s looking now.
Louis rests back against the bed, his eyes falling shut, the harsh lights too much for his tired mind. He can feel his blood pumping, his legs itching to run for another forty minutes, to make the fans cheer. It's distressing having his whole body primed to play, to win, only to be stopped so abruptly. This is not the first time a foul has taken Louis out of a game, and yet he never gets used to the feeling. It’s always miserable. But this time it carries a special weight.
Getting hurt during a match is never good. Getting hurt this close to the World Cup call outs is Louis’ worst nightmare.
He has been working towards this his whole life, pushing himself, aiming for the very best. And all that hard work earned him a spot on his dream team, it earned him the love of the fans, it earned him a place amongst the big names of his country, among those very names he's spent his life admiring. And that’s all he ever wanted—to be good enough to be considered.
But now he has a shitty leg and god knows how many weeks of physiotherapy in his future. Thankfully the doctor didn’t say anything about surgery, so he’s not that fucked, at least.
“Louis?”
He opens his eyes, immediately letting out a sigh when he finds a young man with a Manchester United shirt and a hopeful look in his eyes. Louis is usually good at this, he likes to interact with fans and take pictures and let them caress his ego a little bit. But now is not the time. His fucking red and swollen leg should be enough to show that.
“Sorry, mate, I’m not taking photos right now.”
The man frowns, his eyebrows pulling together and his mouth curving into an almost pout. Louis wonders if he’s going to protest, if he’s going to be a dick about the situation. There are all sorts of crazy people out there and he has no idea how this particular person managed to get to him in this condition. Honestly, just him being here can’t mean anything good.
“What?” The man’s green eyes travel all over Louis, landing on his leg and staying there. He moves closer, his hand almost touching his skin and Louis honestly can’t believe this is happening right now. How did everyone leave him alone with someone who, for all he knows, could be a fucking psychopath? He doesn’t even have good legs to run if he needs to.
“Listen, mate, you better head out, yeah?” Louis sits up as best as he can, trying to move away from the stranger who insists on getting closer. Unfortunately, he’s in no condition to move whatsoever, the mere attempt of lifting his leg making him wince. Louis needs to remember to have a chat with that doctor when he’s better—he wasn’t feeling this shit before his big, calloused hands prodded at him. “I think it’s pretty clear I’m not in the mood for any interactions right now.”
“I'm just trying to—”
“I don’t really care, all right?” Louis interrupts the man before he can even start with the silly excuses. He’s in pain and he’s tired and right now he’s really fucking pissed. “My leg is shit and I just had to leave one of the best matches of my life and I’m waiting for someone to give me something for this fucking pain and I don’t really give a shit about what you’re trying to do!”
Maybe being rude with a possible killer isn’t the best way to go, but frankly, the man doesn’t really look the type who would hurt someone—he actually looks like he’d cry if he killed a fly, so Louis takes his chances. It’s to no avail anyway, because the stranger stays there, silently looking at him. Not creepy at all.
“Can you please just go?” Louis asks again, the anger turning into pure exhaustion when the man just stays there watching him. “I’m just waiting for the physiotherapist to come and see me.”
“I know.”
Louis nods automatically, but then he realizes that this stranger, in fact, should not know about this. Maybe Louis should be more worried. Maybe he’s dealing with some kind of stalker or some crazy ass man who’s been lurking around and gathering information and the longer Louis thinks about it the more certain he becomes that he’s going to die here.
“How do you know?” Louis dares ask, because honestly, he has already yelled at the man, there’s not much he can do to make things better now.
“Because I was fucking watching the game when they called me in to come and see you.” The man finally says, his arms crossed in front of his chest, making his biceps bulge and Louis think that, if it really comes to it, there’s no way he can defend himself against that with a bad leg. “And even though I’m on my day off, I promptly agreed because I wanted to help.”
Louis opens his mouth, but closes it again. It’s nice to know that the man didn’t come here with the intension of killing him, but Louis is pretty sure he might’ve made the intention appear in this brief interaction.
“That was before you started yelling at me, of course.”
Louis winces. Not a great start with the physio team, then.
“Hey, listen—”
“It’s fine.” The man interrupts him, but his tone doesn’t sound fine at all. “Lie back.”
Louis does as told, not wanting to make things worse. This is the man who is currently in charge of his treatment after all, it would be nice if he didn’t hate him. So, when the man puts on a pair of gloves and touches his leg, lifting it up so that he can asses the muscles on the back of his thigh, Louis doesn’t say anything, even though he can feel a new wave of pain going up his leg.
Still, the man is far more gentle than the doctor had been, his fingers moving carefully through his skin, his brows furrowed in concentration as he assesses the situation. Louis finds that focusing on his face is better than on the pain, so that’s how he ends up noticing the stranger’s—well, not really a stranger anymore—long lashes and the small freckles near his nose. He’s actually trying to count them when the man touches a higher point of his thigh, making him wince.
“The muscle is definitely tore, but we need a few scans to know the extant of it.” Louis nods. The doctor had said the same thing. “I’ll talk to Marvin and see if they’re ready to take you and I’ll also ask him for some pain meds.”
Louis has no idea who Marvin is but he nods just the same, watching as the man takes off his gloves before reaching for a folder at the foot of his bed. His brows furrow again as he reads over the information, his lips pulling into that same pout as he focuses, and now Louis is the creepy one watching the man’s every move.
He quickly averts his gaze.
“Listen, I’m sorry about before.” He keeps his eyes glued to the ceiling, which makes it harder to know if his apology is being well received, but at least the man is letting him speak now, so that must be worth something. “I’m really stressed and I’m a prick when I’m in pain.”
Louis finally looks at the physiotherapist again, green eyes already watching him, taking him in. “I noticed that.”
It’s all that he says before dropping the folder back in its place and heading for the exit. “I’ll send someone in to help with the pain.” He stops short of the door, turning around one last time. “Just reminding you so that you don’t attack them.”
And then he’s gone.
Louis drops back on the bed, a loud groan leaving his lips.