Matilda's Imagines

We got you, Part 3

It had been a few days since the blood draw.

Training had resumed. Y/n was back to her usual chaotic self — bouncing around the pitch, stealing Macca's water bottle mid-drill, tying Kyra's laces together during cooldowns, and pretending not to know how they got tangled.

But something was different.

She smiled, laughed, joked — but the brightness dimmed faster. The bounce in her step faded quicker. She was quieter at meals, more distant in the evenings.

It wasn't that anyone was pushing her. But the weight of the needle — the memories it dug up — hadn't left her like she hoped it would.

She wanted to let it go.

But something in her still whispered: If they knew the truth, maybe they wouldn't look at you the same.

𓆉

It was storming the night she told them.

Not a loud, dramatic storm — just a quiet hum of rain tapping the windows and the occasional soft rumble of thunder in the distance. The kind that made everything feel smaller, like the world had folded in on itself just a little.

Y/n stood in the doorway of the common room, holding her hoodie sleeves in her hands, twisting them into knots. She looked like she wanted to leave — and also like she wanted to stay forever.

Mini was curled up in the corner chair with a tea, reading. Kyra and Macca were on the floor tossing popcorn into each other's mouths. Caitlin and Lani were doing a puzzle — badly.

"Hey," Y/n said softly, barely audible.

Every head turned.

"Can I... can I tell you something?"

Kyra was up instantly, gently tugging her into the room. "Always."

They made space — Cait scooted aside, Mini held out a hand, and Y/n climbed up into the middle of the group like it was second nature. Because by now, it was.

She pulled her knees up to her chest. Her voice was small.

"The reason I freaked out about the needle the other day... it wasn't just being scared."

The room stilled.

Mini reached out, her fingers brushing Y/n's wrist in silent reassurance.

"I lived in a few houses before I ended up in foster care," she said, eyes on the floor. "Some of them were okay. Most weren't."

Kyra's jaw tightened.

"In one of them, when I got sick or hyper or 'too much,' they used to —" her voice cracked, "they used to hold me down and give me sedatives. Injections. Sometimes without even telling me what they were. I was ten."

No one spoke.

Y/n kept going. She had to. The words were finally surfacing, like they'd waited years for this moment.

"They told me if I cried, I was weak. If I moved, I'd get more. Sometimes they wouldn't feed me for days after, said I needed to learn control. And I started associating needles with... with punishment. With pain I couldn't stop. And I—I just..."

Her voice gave out. She shook, breath hitching, shame rising fast like a wave.

But Mini didn't let her drown.

"Oh, bub," she whispered, pulling Y/n gently into her arms.

Macca slid in behind her, arms around her back. Caitlin grabbed her hand. Kyra rested her head on Y/n's shoulder, silent tears slipping down her cheeks.

"You didn't deserve any of that," Lani said firmly, voice trembling.

"Not a single second," Mini agreed.

Y/n cried then. Real, shaking sobs. But it didn't feel scary this time. It felt warm. It felt safe. It felt like years of locked-up grief finally being allowed out.

And her team — her sisters, her family — held her like nothing about her past made her any less worthy.

They saw her.

Not the trauma.

Not the fear.

Her.

𓆉

Later that night, Kyra sat on Y/n's bed while she got ready for sleep.

"Can I tell you something too?" Kyra asked.

Y/n nodded, curled under the blanket, cheeks still a little pink from crying.

"When I was sixteen, I broke my wrist real bad. I passed out at the hospital just from looking at the IV." She paused. "You faced all of that, and you still walked into that room with Mini."

Y/n gave a tired little smile. "I almost ran the other way."

"But you didn't," Kyra said. "That's strength. Not the fake kind. The real, messy, raw kind. And I hope you know — we've got you now. Always."

Y/n blinked away a new wave of tears.

"I love you guys."

Kyra grinned. "We know, gremlin."

She threw a pillow at her.

Y/n threw it back — hard.

And just like that, the storm inside her started to settle, for the first time in years.

𓆉