Matilda's Imagines

Hidden

The sun rose lazily over the training ground as Y/n laced up her running shoes, the morning air crisp against her skin. Her ADHD had made mornings a double-edged sword—either a whirlwind of restlessness or a rare moment of calm. Today, she needed to run, to clear her mind before training.

The streets were quiet as her feet pounded against the pavement, her headphones blasting music loud enough to drown out her thoughts. She was halfway through her route, crossing a side street, when the sound of screeching brakes jolted her from her rhythm.

A car clipped her side, throwing her to the ground. She landed hard, her wrist twisting under her weight and her shoulder absorbing the impact. Pain shot through her arm and chest, but she bit back a cry, scrambling to her feet as the driver jumped out of the car.

"Are you okay?" the driver asked, panic etched across their face.

"I'm fine," Y/n said quickly, waving them off despite the burning pain in her shoulder. "Really, I'm okay."

Before they could argue, she turned and started jogging back toward the training ground, each step a battle against the growing ache in her body.

For weeks, Y/n managed to keep her injuries a secret. Her broken hand was the easiest to hide—she avoided high-fives, used her other hand for everything, and brushed off questions with practiced ease. Her dislocated shoulder was harder, the constant dull ache reminding her of what she'd done.

But she didn't want to bother anyone. They'd all been so good to her already. Asking for help felt like too much.

It wasn't until after a scrimmage weeks later that things began to unravel. Y/n sat quietly in the locker room, untying her boots, when a sudden wave of exhaustion hit her. Her shoulder throbbed, a constant reminder of her decision to stay silent.

"Hey, Y/n," Mini's voice pulled her from her thoughts. She stood in the doorway, her arms crossed but her expression soft. "Everything okay?"

Y/n hesitated, then nodded. "Yeah. Just tired."

Mini raised an eyebrow but didn't push. "Alright. Let me know if you need anything."

Y/n nodded again, but as Mini turned to leave, Y/n's voice stopped her.

"Actually... Mini?"

Mini turned back, her brows knitting together in concern.

"Can you help me wash my hair?" Y/n asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Mini's face softened, and she stepped closer. "Of course, sweetheart. Come on."

In the bathroom, Y/n sat on a stool while Mini carefully worked shampoo into her hair. The gentle rhythm of Mini's hands was soothing, and for a moment, Y/n let herself relax.

But Mini's hands paused as she reached Y/n's shoulder. "Y/n..."

Y/n froze. "What?"

"This doesn't feel right." Mini's voice was calm but firm. "Your shoulder... it's out of place."

Y/n's breath hitched, and she looked away. "It's fine. It's been like that for a while."

Mini gently turned her to face her, her eyes searching Y/n's face. "How long?"

Y/n hesitated. "Since my run a few weeks ago."

"A few weeks?" Mini's voice rose, and Y/n flinched. Mini took a deep breath, softening her tone. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't want to bother anyone," Y/n muttered, her eyes fixed on the floor.

Mini knelt in front of her, taking her good hand gently in her own. "Y/n, listen to me. You're not a bother. You're part of this team, part of this family. We can't help you if you don't tell us what's going on."