Matilda's Imagines

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The Matildas training camp was bustling as usual, with drills, laughter, and the occasional shout of encouragement echoing across the field. Y/n, the youngest and most spirited member of the team, was darting between cones during a passing drill. But something about her movements seemed... off.

Mini watched carefully from the sidelines, her maternal instincts on high alert. Y/n had been quieter lately, more prone to zoning out, and Mini couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong.

Mid-drill, Y/n froze, her eyes unfocused, her body eerily still. It lasted only a few seconds before she blinked rapidly, shaking her head and forcing herself back into action.

Kyra, standing nearby, caught the moment and jogged over. "Oi, Y/n, you good?"

"Yeah, yeah," Y/n muttered, avoiding eye contact. "Just tired."

Kyra frowned but let it slide for now, her gut telling her to mention it to Mini later.

After training, Mini cornered Kyra in the locker room.

"Kyra," Mini said, crossing her arms. "Did you notice anything off about Y/n today?"

Kyra nodded. "She kind of froze for a bit during drills. Said she was tired, but..."

"But it's more than that," Mini finished. "I've been noticing it too. She's zoning out more, and she's not herself. I'm worried she's hiding something."

Mini's mind raced. Y/n's epilepsy was no secret to the team, but the teenager had always been diligent about managing it—or so Mini thought.

The next day, during a scrimmage, it happened. Y/n was dribbling toward the goal when she suddenly stopped, her body stiffening. She collapsed to the ground, her limbs jerking as a seizure overtook her.

"Y/n!" Mini shouted, sprinting onto the field with Caitlin and Kyra close behind.

The team quickly moved into action, clearing the area and ensuring Y/n was safe. Mini knelt beside her, speaking calmly as the seizure ran its course.

"You're okay, sweetheart," Mini murmured, brushing Y/n's hair back. "I've got you."

When the seizure ended, Y/n's body relaxed, and she blinked groggily up at Mini.

"Mini?" she whispered, tears pooling in her eyes.

"I'm here," Mini said firmly. "You're okay."

Later, as the team gave Y/n space to rest in the medical room, Mini sat beside her.

"Y/n," Mini began gently but firmly, "what's going on? This isn't the first time you've had a seizure lately, is it?"

Y/n looked down, fiddling with the hem of her jersey. "No," she admitted. "I've been having more... but I didn't want to bother anyone."

Mini's heart ached at Y/n's words. "Sweetheart, this isn't something you can hide. Your health is more important than football or anything else. Why haven't you been taking your medication?"

"I don't know," Y/n whispered, tears spilling over. "I guess... I just didn't want to feel like a burden."

"You are never a burden," Mini said firmly, pulling Y/n into a hug. "But this stops now. You're moving in with me. No arguments."

Y/n pulled back, wide-eyed. "What?"

"You're moving in," Mini repeated. "I'm going to make sure you take your medication, eat properly, and rest. You won't go through this alone anymore."

True to her word, Mini brought Y/n home that evening. She set up a comfortable space for Y/n, complete with alarms to remind her to take her medication and a detailed schedule to manage her epilepsy.

Mini also researched and contacted an organization to get Y/n a seizure-alert dog. Within weeks, a golden retriever named Scout joined their household. Scout quickly became Y/n's shadow, alerting Mini when Y/n's seizures were imminent.

The team rallied around her too. Kyra started carrying snacks and water for Y/n, while Macca and Caitlin kept an eye on her during training.

One afternoon, Y/n sat on the couch with Scout's head resting on her lap. Mini handed her a glass of water and her medication.

"Take it, love," Mini said softly.

Y/n obeyed without hesitation, glancing up at Mini. "Thank you... for everything."

Mini smiled, brushing a strand of hair out of Y/n's face. "That's what family is for, Y/n. You're not alone, and you never will be."

For the first time in a long time, Y/n felt truly safe. With Mini and the Matildas by her side, she knew she could face anything.

The weeks that followed were a whirlwind of adjustments for both Y/n and Mini. Living under the same roof brought its own set of challenges, but it also deepened their bond. Mini's firm yet loving presence gave Y/n the structure she needed, and Y/n started to lean into the support, slowly letting go of the habit of hiding her struggles.

Scout, the golden retriever, became an irreplaceable part of their routine. The dog's keen instincts made it nearly impossible for Y/n to ignore signs of an oncoming seizure. One evening, as Y/n sat sketching on the living room floor, Scout nudged her insistently, letting out a soft bark.

"Scout, I'm fine," Y/n muttered, but Mini appeared almost instantly.

"Scout doesn't bark unless something's up," Mini said, sitting down beside Y/n.

Moments later, Y/n felt the familiar lightheadedness creep in. She blinked, swaying slightly, and Mini gently guided her to lie down on the couch.

"It's okay, sweetheart," Mini soothed as Scout curled up protectively beside Y/n.

At training, the Matildas embraced Y/n's new normal without hesitation. Mini updated the team on Y/n's progress, and everyone stepped up to support her.

Kyra made it her personal mission to keep things light. "Scout's the real MVP," she joked one day, tossing a ball to the dog during warm-ups. "Honestly, I think we should make him part of the squad."

Y/n laughed, rolling her eyes. "Pretty sure he's more reliable than you, Kyra."

"Rude," Kyra shot back with a grin, ruffling Y/n's hair.

During drills, Caitlin and Alana kept close watch. If Y/n started to zone out or slow down, they gently nudged her toward the sidelines for a break.

A month after moving in with Mini, Y/n faced her first major challenge: a friendly match against a top-ranked team. It was her first game since her epilepsy became more prominent, and nerves buzzed under her skin.

"You've got this," Mini said, squeezing Y/n's shoulder in the locker room. "Just listen to your body. If anything feels off, signal me or Scout."

Scout was stationed on the sidelines, wearing an adorable Matildas bandana, much to Kyra's delight. "He's the star of the show," Kyra declared as the team headed onto the field.

The match began, and Y/n poured her energy into every pass and run. For the first half, everything felt normal. But as the second half started, Y/n felt a wave of fatigue.

Scout barked from the sidelines, drawing Mini's attention. Mini immediately signaled for a substitution. Y/n hesitated, her competitive side warring with her need to rest.

"Y/n!" Mini's voice rang out. "Off the field. Now."

Reluctantly, Y/n jogged off, collapsing onto the bench beside Scout. The dog immediately nudged her hand, and she smiled despite her frustration.

"Good call," Caitlin said, handing Y/n a water bottle. "We need you healthy, not pushing yourself too hard."

Y/n nodded, her heart swelling with gratitude for her teammates' unwavering support.