Chapter Text
“Aiden Rafat with the ball, trying to break his way through Arsenal’s defence - oh! A mistake by the Argentinian and Kennedy wins the ball back for Martinez’s team. Kennedy to Hampton, who is running it back up the pitch. Alonso Reyes is in front of him screaming for the ball. Hampton to Reyes. Reyes passes it to Henry Fox, who has just made a mad dash up the right. Richard Moore has his eyes on Fox and looks to try and poach the ball from him. Oh, but Fox dodges him with a spectacular bit of footwork! Fox in the box, Mfunda open and the keeper is out of his goal, could we be about to witness the moment of the season?! Fox noticing Luckson off his line and Mfunda in acres of space. Fox on the edge of the box, looks up and shoots … GOAL! Fox has scored! I thought he would pass after seeing his teammate in the box with him and Moore coming up behind him, but he has done it alone!”
“I don’t think he saw Moore actually, Dave. Fox has stayed down after that goal, his teammates have surrounded him, and they’re calling on the medical team. Moore clattered into him as the goal went in, and it seems like some damage has been done. Gibson and Moore seem to be getting into it now on the pitch, with both sets of players arguing. Fox is still down, receiving treatment from the Arsenal medical team.”
“John, I must say, the actions from Moore seemed reckless - he didn’t even seem to go for the ball, he just took Fox out. It looked like he was annoyed about the earlier actions from the Englishman. Fox is still receiving treatment and it looks like they are preparing the stretcher. Not what any football fan wants to see. Fox looks like he is in a lot of pain and is distraught to be going off, especially after scoring what might be the winner for his team. Hopefully it’s not as serious as it seems, Dave. Losing Henry Fox would be devastating for Arsenal at this point in the season.”
Three Weeks Later
In the grand scheme of things, breaking your ankle is not the worst injury to have in football. Sure, it hurts and the cast is annoying, but Henry doesn’t mind the time off. He can hang out with his dog, David. He can catch up on all the TV shows he always seems to miss. He can watch his team play football from the comfort of his own sofa. He can sit in his house and lose his mind about not being able to play football and it not even being his fault. The latter is the thing he seems to do most these days.
Henry Fox has never been someone who can sit still for long periods of time. When he was a young boy, his parents sent him to every extracurricular club they could find, just to wear off his energy. From ages six to ten, Henry spent every Monday and Wednesday at athletics club, every Tuesday and Thursday at Karate, and every Friday at tennis club. From age 11, he dropped tennis club, and started playing cricket instead. At 15, there was also a brief stint in the Drama Club, where he played Prince Charming in the school's production of Cinderella. We don’t talk about the Drama Club. Henry would go to each activity from the end of the school day until 6pm, when he would then go home and complete his homework. Often, he would see his parents for 30 minutes each weekday - 10 minutes for the ride to school, 10 for the ride home, and 10 minutes before he would go to sleep. As a child, Henry didn’t mind his weekdays. They were entertaining enough, and he liked hanging out with his friends. The weekends, however, were where his true love came into play. Football.
When Henry was two, his father bought him his first Arsenal FC football shirt.
When he was three, his father bought him a child sized football and goal for the back garden.
At age five, his father signed him up to the local football team.
By the age of seven, Henry was playing for the local club’s under-13s team and his father would try to make every match.
At 10, Henry was scouted by the Arsenal FC Academy. His father was thrilled, and told everyone he knew about his son, the footballer.
When Henry was 13, his father died.
When he was 14, his grandfather told him he would never make it as a professional footballer, and to think of a serious career path.
At age 15 and 138 days, Henry made his first team debut with his father’s boyhood club. The youngest in Arsenal’s history.
By the time Henry was 24, he had played 283 times for his club, and 46 times for his country.
At 24, Henry scored the winning goal for his team, placing them at the top of the league table.
At 24, Henry broke his ankle.
At 24, Henry was wallowing in self-pity.
“Henry, we’re baaaack!” Henry’s sister’s singsong voice fills the foyer of his house, and fills him with dread.
Henry had sent Bea and Pez, his best friend, on an exceptionally long breakfast run this morning. They had pestered him for an hour about getting something that would cheer him up, and in the end, he just had to have the pancakes from that one place on the other side of London.
“We got you your pancakes, a coffee, and a cute little cookie with a Halloween skeleton on it. Which I am now realising may have been a mistake… given the… bones. Sorry.” Pez winces as he hands Henry the bag of treats and his coffee.
“It’s fine. I like cookies.” Henry forces a smile and hopes it looks at least a little bit genuine. He sits up straighter from his lounging position on the sofa as his company sit down. Bea, in her usual spot, just by the sofa arm, and tucked her socked feet under her; whilst Pez grabs the armchair by the window.
Don’t get him wrong, Henry was grateful for the company. He would have lost the will to live two weeks ago had they not decided to stay with him for a while during his recovery, but they were a bit…much. Bea and Pez argued like children, and pestered Henry to no end. The pancakes were good, but the peace and quiet he got whilst they were gone? Immaculate.
“So, uh…have you watched any TV today?” Pez, for the first time in his life, sounds awkward. Percy Okonjo is not awkward. He's sauve, cool, sophisticated. Everything Henry is not. Add that to Bea avoiding Henry’s eye when he looks in her direction to ask why Pez was being weird, and Henry is ready to throw up his breakfast.
“Not really, just some random movie on Netflix, why?” Henry asks with a frown.
“Oh, no reason.” Pez replies quickly, before tapping away furiously on his phone.
“What the fuck is going on, man?” Henry looks at his friend, who eventually looks up from his phone. Pez sheepishly looks towards Bea, who nods softly at him. Henry has never been so confused in his life. Pez looks down at his phone once more before hesitantly handing it to his friend.
BREAKING NEWS: ARSENAL SIGN RIGHT WINGER ALEX CLAREMONT-DIAZ FROM REAL MADRID. THE USA INTERNATIONAL JOINS THE CLUB ON A £65-MILLION DEAL.
CLUB STATEMENT: We are thrilled that Alex will be joining us on a new long-term deal. He is an incredible player, and we can’t wait to see what he does on the pitch for us. He will begin training with the first team this week, and we hope to see him in action against Manchester United next weekend.
“Are they fucking serious? Three weeks I have been out. Three. Fucking. Weeks! And they go and replace me like I didn’t exist in the first place?!” Henry is enraged. Infuriated. Upset. Mostly enraged.
“Hen, I don’t think they’re replacing you. It seems pretty sudden.” Bea shuffles closer and places a kind hand on his arm to try and calm him down, but Henry is so angry he can barely see. How could they do this to him?
“Oh, no? I’m a constant feature in the team, I get injured by a fucking idiot, and then all of a sudden, they sign a player who just so happens to play in my position? They must have had this in the works for months!” Henry practically yells, missing the way Pez moves closer to Henry to grab his phone before Henry throws it across the room.
“I know it’s tough, mate, but you’ve just got to ignore it and work on your recovery. Six months isn’t that long of a time to be out, and you’ll slot right back in the team.” Pez tries.
Henry scoffs, “Oh yeah, it’ll be like I never left. Just some other guy playing in my spot. I'm sure they can put both of us on at the same time."
“Okay Hen, you clearly need some time to sit with this, so Pez and I will be at the gym if you need us.” Bea says, looking down at her younger brother, who is holding his head in his hands.
She gently strokes his hair, and leans down to place a small kiss on his head. When he doesn’t respond, Bea and Pez walk towards the door, throwing a final sad look back towards Henry.
Closing the door behind them, Bea sighs, “He will be alright, won’t he?”
“I don’t know, I’m pretty sure I heard him mutter “fucking American” when I closed the door.”
“Oh dear.”