Passed out
Ingrid tries. She really does. She tries to keep her distance, to maintain the walls she’s spent years building, but after that night -after falling into Mapi’s arms, after letting herself be held for the first time in what feels like forever- avoiding her feels…pointless.
She’s tired. Tired of pretending she doesn’t need anyone. Tired of pushing away the only person who seems to actually care.
So she stops making excuses. Stops coming up with bullshit reasons why she can’t hang out with Mapi, because Mapi knows she’s lying, and the only person she’s hurting is herself.
That doesn’t mean she suddenly starts saying yes all the time.
She’s still exhausted. Still barely sleeping. Still struggling to function. She just-
Stops fighting it so much. She still goes to dinner and movie nights. Still talks to Mapi at training. Still gets in the car when Mapi picks her up, and Mapi notices.
Ingrid can tell.
She notices that Ingrid is trying, that she’s no longer actively keeping her at arm’s length. But she also notices something else. She notices the bags under Ingrid’s eyes, the way her limbs seem heavier, the way she zones out mid-conversation sometimes, lost in a haze of exhaustion.
She doesn’t say anything about it outright. But Ingrid sees the way she looks at her, and she knows. Knows Mapi wants to say something. Knows she’s holding back, waiting for Ingrid to come to her first. But Ingrid can’t. She can’t ask Mapi to stay the night again, even though she wants to. She can’t ask her to hold her again, even though she needs it.
So she doesn’t.
She just keeps going. Hangs out with Mapi. With Frido. Separately, together. Whichever she has the energy for. And she tells herself she’s fine.
That she’s coping.
That she’s handling it.
Until she isn’t.
Until-
Everything crashes.
It happens at training, of all places. She doesn’t feel like she’s about to pass out. Not really. Sure, she’s exhausted. Sure, her body feels sluggish, her limbs aching under the strain of weeks without proper rest.
But she doesn’t expect it. One second, she’s upright -pushing herself through a passing drill, muscles burning, mind foggy but functioning- and then…
Then, everything tilts. Her vision tunnels. The sounds around her -voices, laughter, the sharp thud of a ball being struck- blur into white noise.
And then-
Black.
When she comes to, her body feels wrong. Heavy. Weak. There’s a sharp, dull ache in her temple, and the ground beneath her is hard, unforgiving against her back. She blinks, eyes unfocused, light filtering through her lashes in hazy streaks.
And then she hears voices. Muffled at first, then clearer.
“Ingrid?”
It’s Mapi. Closer than the others. Kneeling, if Ingrid had to guess. She forces herself to blink properly, to focus, to breathe. Her head pounds in protest. Someone touches her shoulder, and she flinches before she can stop herself.
“Hey, hey.” Mapi’s voice is softer now, quieter. “You okay?”
Ingrid tries to answer, but her throat feels thick, dry.
She swallows, clears it, forces out a raspy, “Yeah.”
It’s a lie. Mapi knows it. She sees it in the way her brows crease, in the way she presses her lips together like she’s holding something back.
“You passed out.”
That much, Ingrid had figured. She grimaces, shifting slightly, feeling the way her limbs protest against even the smallest movement. A shadow moves into her vision, and she realises it’s Frido. She’s crouched nearby, hands resting on her knees, worry etched into her face.
“Ingrid,” she says, her voice edged with concern, “what the hell was that?”
Ingrid doesn’t have an answer. Not one she’s willing to say out loud, anyway. She swallows again, throat still raw, and forces herself to sit up. Bad idea. The world spins. Mapi’s hands shoot out, steadying her, and Ingrid clenches her jaw.
“Easy,” Mapi murmurs. “You okay?”
Ingrid doesn’t respond. Because no, she’s not. Not even close. She looks away instead, focuses on the ground, on the way her fingers curl into the grass beneath her.
A new voice enters the mix. Pere.
“What happened?”
No one answers right away.
Then-
“She passed out,” Mapi says, voice tight, like she’s barely holding something back.
Pere exhales sharply. “Did you eat today?”
Ingrid’s jaw clenches. Frido shifts beside her, glancing between them, putting pieces together. Mapi already knows.
Pere is confused, and the rest of the team? Ingrid doesn’t know. Doesn’t want to know. She’s too scared to look at them. Too scared to see anger, or judgment, or disappointment on their faces. Too scared to know if they’re mad at her for interrupting training.
Her fingers tighten against the grass, breath shaky. She can’t do this. She can’t. She just-
She can’t keep going like this. Something has to give.
And for the first time in a long time…
She’s terrified it might be her.
“You’re going home,” Pere, along with Mapi, tugs her to her feet. Ingrid’s off balance immediately, and she tries not to like the way Mapi’s arms fly out to grasp her.
“What?”
“You’re in no state to be here. You’re going home.”
Feeling like a child being sent to their room, Ingrid swallows back the frustration rising in her throat. She knows why Pere is sending her home. She knows it’s because she passed out, because she looks like shit, because she’s not okay. But knowing doesn’t make it any easier to accept.
It still feels like rejection.
Like they don’t want her here.
Like she’s being pushed away.
And it makes her sick.
She tries fighting.
But Pere crosses his arms over his chest, gaze firm but not unkind. “You need to rest, Ingrid.”
“I’m fine.” Ingrid grits her teeth.
“You’re not.”
Mapi is right next to her, standing a little too close, watching her a little too intently. Ingrid can feel her staring.
“I can stay,” Ingrid tries again, voice flat. “I can train.”
Pere exhales sharply, shaking his head. “No. You can’t.”
It shouldn’t sting as much as it does. And yet, it does. She presses her lips together, nails digging into her palms.
“You’re going home.” Pere’s voice leaves no room for argument. “And Mapi is taking you.”
That makes Ingrid bristle.
She turns, glaring at Mapi. “I can take myself home.”
Mapi doesn’t even flinch. “Not happening.”
“I don’t need a babysitter.”
“No?” Mapi raises an eyebrow. “You’re running on what? Two hours of sleep? Maybe less? And you just hit the ground like a sack of bricks. But sure. You’re fine.”
Ingrid clenches her jaw, anger flickering in her chest at Mapi outing her like this in front of everyone. “I don’t-“
“Enough.”
The voice cuts through the argument, firm yet gentle.
Alexia.
Ingrid hadn’t even noticed her approaching. She stands a few feet away, arms crossed, brows furrowed in something that isn’t anger, but isn’t quite softness either.
“Ingrid.” Alexia’s voice is calm, steady. “You’re leaving. Now.”
And that-
That hurts.
Because it doesn’t matter that she’s the captain, that she’s saying this because she cares, because she wants Ingrid to be okay. It still, again, feels like rejection.
Like, again, they’re pushing her away.
Like, again, they don’t want her here.
And she can’t-
She can’t.
All the fight leaves her in an instant. Her shoulders slump, her fingers twitch uselessly at her sides, and she feels cold. Empty. Like something inside her has just cracked open.
She nods. Once. Stiff. Then, without another word, she turns on her heel and heads toward the changing rooms.
Mapi follows.
Of course, she does.
Because she won’t let this go.
And Ingrid is too fucking exhausted to fight her anymore.
The drive home is quiet. Ingrid leans against the window, exhaustion sinking into her bones, but she refuses to let herself sleep. Because sleeping in the car would mean letting her guard down. And she can’t. Not when her chest still feels tight, not when her mind is still racing.
She doesn’t realise how tense she is until Mapi speaks.
“Hey.”
She glances over, and Mapi is looking at her, brief glances between her and the road.
“You okay?”
It’s a stupid question. One that has an obvious answer. But Mapi asks it anyway.And for some reason, that makes Ingrid’s throat tighten. She looks away, staring out the window.
“I’m fine.”
She hears Mapi exhale, but she doesn’t argue. Just lets the silence settle again. And Ingrid hates how much she appreciates that. When they get to Ingrid’s apartment, she tries, one last time, to insist that she doesn’t need Mapi to stay.
“I’ll be fine,” she mutters, rubbing at her temple as she unlocks the door. “You don’t have to-“
“I’m staying.”
It’s firm. Final. No room for argument.
Ingrid sighs, pressing her fingers against her eyes. “Mapi-“
“You won’t sleep if I don’t,” Mapi cuts in, blunt as ever.
Ingrid wants to refute that. Wants to tell her she will. But they both know she’d be lying, and she’s too damn tired to fight anymore. So she sighs again, defeated, and steps inside. Mapi follows, kicking off her shoes, setting her bag down. Then she glances at Ingrid, brows raised.
“Bed.”
Ingrid groans, but she doesn’t argue. She shuffles towards her room, movements sluggish, and she doesn’t even process that Mapi has followed until she feels her presence at the door.
She turns, raising an eyebrow.
“Are you-“ she gestures vaguely, exhaustion muddling her words, “-just gonna stand there and watch me sleep?”
Mapi snorts. “No, creep. I’m sleeping too.”
Ingrid blinks. “What.”
Mapi shrugs like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Your couch sucks. And I’m not letting you sleep alone.”
Ingrid opens her mouth, ready to protest. But she hesitates.
Because…
She doesn’t want to sleep alone.
Not really.
She’s just been too afraid to ask. Too afraid to need someone. Mapi must see something on her face because her expression softens.
“Come on,” she murmurs. “Get in bed.”
Ingrid hesitates. Then, she moves. Crawls under the blankets, exhaustion pressing heavy on her limbs. Mapi follows, settling in beside her, not too close, but there. And when she places her hand on Ingrid’s arm, her touch light, steady, the pad of her thumb trailing gently over her skin, for the first time in what feels like days, Ingrid breathes.
And when sleep finally comes-
She doesn’t fight it.