Toronto Blue Jays Imagines

Bo Bichette - Coming Home

A/N: This is based on Keith Urban's song "Coming Home", and is a lil sad but it has a happy ending! Lyrics are italicized throughout. Enjoy!

I wake up feeling, in my soul I'm / Living someone else's life / I'm turning into concrete, harder than these city streets / Where no one even cares if I'm alive

Sunlight shone through the windows of Bo's condo as his alarm went off on his bedside table. Groaning, he pulled his pillow over his head. Another day in Buffalo meant another day without you. It had been months since you'd seen each other, thanks to the pandemic. You were stuck in Toronto, and he was stuck going from city to city in the US. You two hadn't seen each other since before spring training when Bo had gone up to Toronto, quarantined in a hotel for two weeks, and spent about a month with you before having to go back to the US.

Bo knew it was difficult for you not being able to be with him, but it was hardest on Bo. He was from place to place, not feeling like he belonged anywhere. He knew the rest of the team felt it too. The constant uncertainty of where they'd be in a few weeks' time. The constant worry that one of them would get sick. The constant loneliness of being away from family.

On top of that, Bo missed the fans. He missed the energy of the Rogers Centre. He missed the support and love he and the team got in Toronto. Sure, they had some fans in the US, but it wasn't the same. They were getting booed at their own home games in Buffalo and Florida and seeing unfamiliar faces in the stands; no regular fans, no friends, no family; strangers everywhere they turned.

Some days Bo woke up wondering how he ended up in that situation.

Today was one of those days.

There's a place that I know where they all know me / I gotta get back now to the ones who love me / Wrap myself around you, never let you go

Bo reached out to his bedside table blindly and grabbed his phone, turning off the alarm. With a heavy sigh, he sat up and brushed his tangled hair off his face. A smile was brought to his lips at the sight of his lockscreen: a picture of you smiling up at the sky, sun beaming down on you. Then his smile turned sad and tears filled his eyes. He missed you so damn much. There was nothing he wanted more in that moment than to hold you close to him. He longed for the feeling of you in his arms.

Rubbing at his eyes, Bo dragged himself out of bed to get ready for the day. He looked at the calendar on his wall. Only a few more months until the regular season was over. Then he could see you again. Then he could wrap his arms around you and promise to never let you go again.

Until that day came, though, he was left to hug pillows and teddy bears and hear your voice only through a speaker. Looking up at the ceiling, Bo sent up a silent prayer that he could be reunited with you soon.

My mind's heavy and I can't sleep, not even a memory/ Is good enough to get me through the night

That night, Bo lay in his queen-sized bed alone, yet again. He stared up at the pale ceiling, light from his open window casting shadows across the room.

They'd won the game, but Bo could barely bring himself to celebrate. It wasn't the same without you there by his side. He tried closing his eyes and thinking back to the time you two had spent together just a few months prior. He remembered the feeling of your body melding into his, the scent of your shampoo, the softness of your lips. He clung to that memory, wishing it was a reality.

But it just wasn't. Not then anyway. And not for a while longer.

Bo feared he wouldn't get a decent night's sleep until the day he was with you again. His feelings of loneliness hit him hardest after a game, when he returned to an empty house and whatever high he'd had during the game—win or lose—was gone when he walked through the doors of his condo. You weren't there to greet him. You weren't there to talk about the game with him. You weren't there to lay with him. You weren't there. You weren't even a hundred miles away from Buffalo, but it felt like infinity.

The emptiness of the condo seeped into Bo's heart. He rolled onto his side and reached for a pillow, wishing more than anything that it was you he was holding. And he knew that back home in Toronto, you were curled up on your side too, clinging to a stuffed bear he'd gotten you before leaving for spring training.

He knew you were just as lonely and sad as he was, and that only made him feel worse.

He buried his face into the pillow and, for the however many nights in a row—Bo had lost count—he cried himself to sleep.

There's nothin' in the world that feels like / Coming home, home, home, mmm / I'm coming home, home, home, mmm / I'm coming home

Weeks had passed, and finally, the team got the news they'd been waiting to hear for so long: they were returning to Toronto.

Bo's fingers shook as he opened his phone to call you. He knew you might be busy, but he had to talk to you. He had to tell you the news before the media got word of it and you found out that way.

"Hey," you answered, the cheerfulness in your voice making Bo's heart beat against his chest.

"I'm coming home," he blurted out.

You were silent on the other end, and Bo glanced at his screen, wondering if he'd lost connection.

"Y/N?" he asked.

"Yeah, I'm here," you said quietly. "You... what?"

"I'm coming home," Bo repeated, voice hoarse with emotion. "We just got approved to return to Toronto. Baby, I'll be there in two weeks."

"Really?" you asked, voice breaking.

Tears flooded Bo's eyes. "Yeah, really."

"Oh my god," you exclaimed. "You're coming home."

"I'll be there soon," he promised. "We'll be together again soon."

"I miss you so much," you whispered tearily.

Bo sniffled and wiped his cheeks. "I miss you too. So damn much. More than you know."

Yeah I know it's only one call away but it's not the same

"I should go practice," Bo said after a moment of you both crying into the phones. "I'll call you after the game tonight, okay?"

"Okay." You paused, then said, "It's not the same."

"What isn't?" he asked.

"Only getting to talk to you through the phone," you said with a sniffle.

Bo sighed softly and rubbed his eyes to stop more tears from falling. "I know, believe me I know. I hate that this is our reality. I hate that I can't hold you and kiss you and talk to you in person. I hate that I can't celebrate my wins with you, or be held after my losses by you. I hate that you're so far away and the only way I can remotely be with you is, well, remotely."

You sighed as well. You both knew the other was feeling the exact same. This wasn't the first time you'd talked about this. It was little comfort, though. Some say that misery likes company, but the only company you wanted was each other's.

"Two weeks," you said.

"Two weeks," Bo repeated. "We can get through two more weeks."

There's nothin' in the world that feels like / Coming home

Bo practically ran out of the airport, suitcase being dragged behind him. He frantically scanned the outside of the Toronto Pearson International Airport. Finally, his eyes landed on you standing near your car in the pick-up area.

Your eyes locked.

An excited yelp left your lips and you cupped your hands over your chest. "Bo!"

Bo grinned, wider than he thought he'd ever grinned before, and ran to you, excusing himself as he pushed past others. Once near your car, he let his suitcase drop to the sidewalk and he opened his arms.

You ran into them, throwing your own arms around his neck.

Bo held you close, arms securely locked around your waist. He buried his face into the crook of your neck and you nuzzled yours against his chest.

"Oh my god," you sobbed out. "You're here. You're actually here."

Bo tightened his hold, pulling you even closer to you. "I'm here, baby. I'm home."