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skipper1331 · 6 months

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Sunshine // Rebecka Blomqvist

a/n: based off this request. Enjoy:)

Rebecka didn‘t scream, she just went down.

In the corner of your eye, you saw her collapse to the ground, arm in the air, frantically waving in the sky.

You stopped running towards the opponents goal, you stopped every movement. You ignored the ball that was passed to your feet - Becks was laying on the floor and not getting up. "Rebecka" you breathed out. It was like something in your mind switched, your brain wasn’t working anymore, you ignored everything around you, just started running.

"Becks?" you asked as you sat down on the grass, wiping her hair out of her face. "It hurts" she said, no tears leaving her eyes. The medics were doing their best to examine her knee but it seemed pretty obvious.

The three little letters that every footballer, every coach, every fan - simply everybody hated: ACL.

Your eyes followed the blonde as she was supported by the medics. You had seen people tore their ACL before and it never affected you as much as it did now. This was Becks, the Swedish sunshine.

That day, her brightness and sunshine was robbed.

After the game, you almost sprinted to the physio room but Becks didn‘t want to see anybody. Jule and you stood in front of the room, arguing with the 'bodyguard' who was actually a staff member, to let you in but with no luck, "please respect her wishes" he told you sternly, pointing to the changing room.

While Jule sighed, you huffed before you grumbled angrily, marching to the locker. What the fuck? You had to see Becks! How was she feeling? Did you need to hold her hand - did she need a shoulder to cry on?

She went radio silent after that. Your calls went straight to her mailbox, texts were ignored. You didn‘t know how she was feeling nor did any of the girls. The only people who knew something about her condition were the coach, doctors and staff members yet just physically. No one knew how she was mentally.

It wasn‘t until her surgery that she went 'online' again - she arose from the dead.

Becks🌞

surgery went well.

The relief you felt at her text was nothing compared to the moment when her caller id popped up. Immediately, you accepted.

"Rebecka" you whispered, stopping your movement in the kitchen. There was silence on the line, only light breathing could be heard.

"Can you come here?" she asked with a small, timid and tired voice. With no hesitation in your voice, you asked, "where are you?"

Not even half an hour later, you were at the hospital, sitting in Becks room as she slept peacefully. Her blonde hair was splayed across the pillow, her leg prompted up as it was covered in plasters and more.

"Did I fall asleep?" she asked groggily, exhausted eyes looking at you yet a small smile displayed on her lips. She was happy to see you.

"Yeah but that‘s okay" out of reflex, your hand went to the side of her head as your thumb caressed her cheek, "I’ve brought you your favorite candy. Thought it might be better than the hospital food"

Gratitude was written over the swedes face as she looked at you, smiling. "I can leave tomorrow at 12 pm. Please pick me up?" you nodded at her request, the blonde slowly falling into a slumber at the comforting touch of your hand. You continued your actions for a few more minutes to be sure she was deep asleep before you left.

Exactly at 12 pm, you picked Becks up, her crutches laying on the backseat as she sat in the 'passenger princess' seat, her phone already connected with the aux.

The two of you hummed or sang to the songs that played, one better than the other.

When you arrived at her home, you jogged around the car, quickly grabbing the crutches as you opened Rebeckas door as well. "Here" you stated, holding out your hands to gently pull her up. Standing in front of you, you handed her the crutches, making sure that you could let go of her waist. Wordlessly, you grabbed her bag as you followed her to the front door.

"I hate these stupid things" she groaned as she flopped on the couch, the stupid things crashing on the floor.

Ignoring her complain, you walked in her kitchen, a place you knew well enough as often as Becks had cooked for you and Jule. You filled a glass of water, walking back to Rebecka as you gave it to her before you walked back in the kitchen. Opening the fridge, emptiness stared back at you. You would change that.

"I have to go but I’ll be back" you stated as Becks laid on the couch, eyes focused on the tv.

"Take your spare key"

Not even an hour later, you walked back in her home, hands full with shopping bags, "went grocery shopping" you smiled. The blonde hadn‘t moved an inch - she laid in the same posture as she was when you left.

"What?" propping her body weight on her arms, she stared blankly at you, "why did you do that?"

Sorting the things on her kitchen counter, "don‘t you think I can do it on my own? Do you think just because I’m on crutches I can’t do stuff alone?!" You didn't respond to her negative and irritable energy. She had a free pass due to the recent injury and being released from the hospital just today.

"Just sit down and let me cook for you" you replied instead, as you put the last few groceries in the fridge.

You visited the Swede almost everyday. Sometimes before training, sometimes after training. At matchdays, you would visit her after. It became your routine to check on the blonde.

As her rehab started Becks got very annoyed - to a point where she was mad 24/7 because her knee didn‘t work the way it should - the way she wanted it to work.

After her rehab sessions, she was in the worst mood, she was irritable and exhausted, one wrong move and she would blow up. The crutches didn‘t help either, they just reminded her of the miserable state she was in. That she couldn‘t do the thing she loves: play football.

Becks was standing the kitchen, one crutch laying on the floor as the other one supported her weight. She tried to grab something from the top cupboard but just couldn’t reach it which drove her mad. Unfortunately for you, you walked through her apartment door just then. When you saw the blonde balance like that, her leg swinging in all directions, you rushed to her. "Let me help you" you said - wrong move. Very wrong move. As soon as you laid the item she wanted on the counter the girl snapped, throwing insults at you. "Stop! Just fucking stop! You‘re so fucking annoying with your helper syndrome! Cleaning my mess, doing the dishes and my laundry, I’m not 7 anymore!" the Swede spat, steam radiating off her body. You were taken back, offended, maybe even hurt - your only intention was to help her, so she could concentrate on her rehab, so she could be back on the pitch again. She shouldn't worry about her household. Her first priority should be to walk again without crutches and then her household. She should slowly get back to everything. The thing was that you didn’t even mother her, you were a support, nothing more. You cooked with her, did the laundry with her - you carried it into the living room while she would fold it . You did everything with her. Only to get it thrown in your face.

"Okay" you took a step back, creating distance, "I’m sorry"

You left after that, feeling hurt and disrespected.

"Fuck" the Swede cursed as she saw you walking out of her flat. Why did she do that? Angrily, she threw the crutch away, slowly sinking down to the floor. Her back was leant against the counter, face hidden in her hands as the tears started falling. She didn‘t mean to yell at you. She didn‘t mean anything she said. She just felt so helpless.

She was angry at her injury, angry at herself but never at you. She appreciated you so much even if she doesn’t tell you it.

When she thought about what made her happiest, the answer was simple: you. You were the only one who could put a smile on her face.

You were the only one who was allowed to use her apartment the way you wanted - the only one with a spare key.

You were the only one who got to see her so vulnerable and at her weakest. She was still radio silent for everyone else on the team - they only got their information because of you. Except Jule, the blonde would text Jule every now and or call her. Sometimes the Swede was seen in the building, but her team rarely spoke to her and then didn't talk about how she was doing. Her sunshine was gone and it only came back when you were there - you were her personal sunshine.

Later that day, she tried to cook but it was way to annoying to move around the kitchen with crutches and then place the ingredients on the counter without something falling down or herself loosing balance. She ordered some takeout - which was also hard to carry to the kitchen or even the living room as two crutches supported her weight.

The same was the next day with the laundry. She physically couldn’t carry the laundry basket out of the bathroom. So the only solution that came to her mind that didn‘t involve you was to push the basket along the floor while she pulled her body across the floor. When she arrived in the living room she was exhausted, her arms heavy. She started to fold her laundry - she couldn't be bothered to iron it but at some point her eyelids simply closed. Her body collapsed against the couch, piles of laundry around her as soft snores filled the room.

All night you had been thinking about whether you should visit her or not. If she wanted to see you or not. If you wanted to see her or not. And even though she hurt your feelings, you wanted to see you. You had to see her. You had to check if she was okay.

In front of her flat, you waited a few minutes, not completely sure if you should walk in - but you did. You opened the door with your spare key only to be met with the sight of a sleeping Rebecka on the floor, clothes around her as there was takeout trash on the living room table. Smiling to yourself, you closed the door quietly. Becks looked at peace, no furrowed brows, no scowl on her face, no anger. She looked tranquil.

And maybe she was right about your helper syndrome. As you saw the mess around you couldn‘t ignore it. She was laying on the floor, probably exhausted from the work she thought she could do alone. Every movement of you, was thought trough and quiet. You didn't want to wake her up, even if she was a heavy sleeper.

As you collected the laundry items, you silently folded them and sorted them in her wardrobe after you had covered Becks in a blanket.

When her flat was tidy again, you left. No note, no text, nothing.

The blonde woke up 3 hours later. She was confused, didn’t she fold the laundry? Where was it? Where was her empty takeout?

Did you visit her? This was you, right?

The confirmation came when the smell of your perfume hit her nostrils, a smell that she could recognize from miles away.

She felt even worse than before - why did she be so mean to you?

Becks stood in front of your apartment, knocking rapidly against the door.

"Hi-"

She didn't let you say anything and just walked in. "Take a seat-" you tried again, the way she balanced on her foot and the crutches gave you anxiety.

"You‘re always so nice" she stated, turning around. "you‘re amazing to me and i yelled at you"

"It‘s oka-"

"Stop talking, please" she whispered, taking a step towards you. She dropped her crutches and out of reflex your hands went to her waist to support her, she knew you would do it. She felt safe with you.

Your hands held a firm grip on your waist as you looked her in the eye. "I‘m sorry for saying those things, you didn‘t deserve that." Her arms went around your neck as leant slightly towards you with her body, "I'm trying to do better for you, to handle my-" her breath hitched as she inhaled sharply, those three letters leaving her mouth for the first time, "to handle the acl better"

"For me?"

"For you" she smiled shyly, her eyes never leaving yours as she leant forwards, this time with her head. Her lips ghosted over your own - it was a gentle peck, nothing more. Neither of you moved, it was simple and quick yet it held so much emotion. She would do better for you and come back stronger.

Resting your forehead against hers, you closed your eyes, "you need to focus on your recovery. I'll wait" you muttered, "I’ll wait as long as it takes"

335 days later, Becks was back on the bench.

After your little meet up at your home, there was no romance at all. You supported her at each step, were there at her first step without crutches and as she started to run again. As she said, she tried to better and she did. She started to watch the girls train, talked to them, laughed with them and joined team bondings. Slowly but surely her sunshine was coming back, it shone brighter than before - thanks to you. Becks was not only her smiley self again but did realize how much you meant to her. That kiss? She couldn‘t think about anything else. It was her motivation to fight. I‘ll wait - she was determined to kiss you again. She wanted to return the favour as you were with her every step of the way, she wanted to take you out on a date.

You couldn‘t have been prouder to see Becks back in the squad, every single cell in her body fought for it.

The fans were chanting her name, shouting for her the make her comeback.

It was the 89‘ minute when it finally happened. You walked to the sidelines, raising your arms, so the fans would cheer louder as they already did. Rebecka looked breathtaking in the kit. You high fived her and hugged her before you pressed a kiss to her forehead. You can do it.

You didn‘t bother to put on your jacket or drink something or anything, you only focused on the sunshine girl. The subs tried to talk to but it fell to deaf ears, as some people might say: you watched Becks with heart eyes, as if she hung the moon. And maybe she did because she was the sunshine.

Rebecka was officially back and showed it with her assist.

After the final whistle blew, the girls huddled around her, singing her name but she only had eyes for you. In the group hug, it was your hand which she held, your eyes that she stared into.

You watched her walk around the stadium, taking her time with each fan - it made your heart swoon. Her sunshine shone across the pitch.

She was the last one to walk back in the tunnel where you had waited for her.

"You waited?" she asked suprised, she thought everybody would be in the showers by now.

"I told you, I would"

her grin couldn‘t have gotten bigger. She knew what you meant, what you were referring to.

"As long as it takes" she whispered.

Everything disappeared, it was just the two of you in the tunnel of your club stadium. The last fans were escorted out, the pitch covered in darkness.

Just the two of you.

Both of you took a step towards one another, small giggled escaping your mouths. Her hands went to cup your jaw, thumbs caressing your cheeks as your hands found their way around her waist - a place they had enjoyed before.

Becks leant forwards, eyes closed as you did the same. Everything felt amazing. You could feel her breath against your lips, an inch away. You waited so long for this.

When your lips finally met, a content sigh left the both of you, lips interlocking perfectly as they moved in sync although not for long as the one and only Jule Brand stumbled in the hall.

"Oh! Did I interrupt something?"

———————

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