The Mute Reporter

12- Present Day

Jensen Blackwell

I obsessively cleaned my entire house. And it killed my knee while doing so.

Cleaning felt like the one thing I can control. I hated cleaning at first, but then everything happened six years ago, and cleaning was therapeutic.

I just didn't have time to tidy myself up before the doorbell rang.

I checked the time, and they were here about ten mi it's early.

I looked at myself in a nearby mirror and almost cringed. I look shitty for this entire thing.

The doorbell rings once again, and I have no choice but to answer it.

I open the door, and there's Sam.

He wore a light gray shirt and some jeans, along with sunglasses.

The ones I got him.

In his arms is Carter, only this time he's awake. Now that Sam mentioned it to me, I can't believe I ever saw Carter to be Becks kid.

He has the same light blue eyes as Sam. His hair is dark, but not black.

"Hi." I say, and step aside, letting them in.

Sam just gives me a small smile, and steps into the house. Carter looks around curiously, and Sam takes off his glasses once I shut the door.

"The kitchen is just down there. I'm going to put on something a little nicer and be with you in a moment."

Sam looks at what I'm wearing and frowns, but nods.

It's the fucking team shirt. I should burn it.

I leave them and do my best to go up the stairs, relying heavily on the railing.

I'm looking down to see Sam one more time, he's watching me carefully, and he's frowning.

He cares about the way I'm walking. He cares about me in at least one way still.

I consider myself lucky with that thought. Extremely fucking lucky.

Entering my room, I grab a plain black shirt and black jeans, changing into them quickly.

It's annoying with a knee brace, and these jeans won't fit over it.

Looking around for another pair, I remember that this is the only clean ones I have.

So I suck it up and wear my brace over the jeans. It blends in, but it's still noticeable. It's a brace.

I'm not medically clear to walk without it, the only acceptable time to have it off is when I go to sleep, so I just suck it up and go back downstairs carefully.

Sam is sitting at the table, watching Carter play with Rusty.

He turns around when he hears me walk in, and I go to make get him a glass of water. I don't care if he's thirsty or not, I'm just nervous and I don't want to sit down quite yet.

'You kept the cat?' Sam signs eventually, and I just nod.

"His name is still Rusty, if that's what you're wondering."

I see Sam swallow, and he doesn't say anything about my cats name.

Making my way over to set the glass of water down in front of Sam, I see Rusty jump to catch a toy that Carter holds.

'Sorry, he just saw the cat and instantly wanted to play.'

I shrug, and sit down. "I don't mind. They both look happy."

Sam takes a gulp of water at that.

We both stay silent, sam watching his son play with my cat. Carter doesn't say much, just like Sam. But he does laugh and give rusty the occasional pet when he does something cute.

At least Rusty likes Carter. Can't say the same about me. I'm convinced having cat scratches on my hands is permanent as long as rusty is with me.

I notice same hand figuring around the glass. Something he does when he's nervous. Looking at both of his hands, I don't see a ring on any finger of his.

"Is his dad in the picture?" I ask quietly, hitting myself mentally at asking such an invasive question.

Sam looks away from Carter and back to me. He just shakes his head.

I can tell he doesn't want to really elaborate, so he asks me a question. Just like old times. I ask, he answers. Then he asks, and I answer.

'What happened to your knee?'

I glance at my brace.

"Last game I played, when I slide into home, I tore my PCL and ACL. Was rushed to the hospital to get emergency surgery. Healing process is taking a bit, and my career might be down the drain." I take a sip of my water this time, and sam just frowns.

I see him beginning to sign the beginning way is I'm sorry, but I shake my head and stop him.

"Don't. Maybe I need to stop anyways. Settle down somehow." I spin the cup around in my hand. "How about you? Have you had any surgeries?"

Sam looked at his son. 'Just one. When I had Carter.'

I nod. "His dad is stupid for not being in the picture."

Sam looks at me when I say that. 'I've tried to tell him. He didn't listen and doesn't know about him.'

That makes me angry for some reason. I felt like I had no right to feel that way though, so I stay quiet on my feelings.

"What's his name? Carters dad I mean."

Sam doesn't answer that, he looks like he's going to be sick actually.

He just meets my stare, and that's when I knew Mateo was right.

That fucker is right about a lot of things.

I just lightly scoff and laugh at once, looking down at my lap. "Well shit."

Part of me is relieved that Sam wasn't with anyone else. That Carter was mine.

But part of me was also terrified because I missed out on so much on my own accord. Sam did everything right for someone in his situation.

I look back at him, and he's explaining his side of the story.

'I tried telling you on the night you left. After that I called and texted you. I'm not sure what happened but your number went blank and all contact was off. I didn't have any money to go and tell you until after I had him. When he was three we all went to LA to try to see you. You weren't at the game though, and any effort I tried to make was futile.'

I just nod, remembering details of my manager telling me that someone was their to see me at a game I wasn't at. I was out of town visiting my mother. As for the phone, I never blocked his number. I wanted to keep it actually.

I lean back in the seat, and watch Carter play with Rusty.

But Rusty gets bored and jumps away, making him pout.

Carter gets up from the floor and climbs into Sams lap, and I look at him more carefully.

He has my hair, that's already very clear. And my nose. Rest of the features are Sam's.

'Carter is playing t-ball next week. If you want to come to his game, that would make him happy.'

T-ball. He's a baseball kid.

I blink back tears that surface.

"Would it make you happy?" I look from Carter to sam, and he's surprised.

He doesn't answer, and I'm not sure if that's because he doesn't want too, or if it's because he doesn't know.

"You're Jensen Blackwell!" Carter suddenly exclaims, and I just nod.

'He's obsessed with you. Watching you, I mean. He loves your team.'

I just give a surprised laugh. "Thanks kid. I'll be going to your next game to make sure you're just as good as I am."