SKYFALL, Johnny Kavanagh

Go to him

Maeve's Point of View

It had been an hour and a half.

Ninety minutes since Johnny hit the ground and didn't get up.
Ninety minutes since the medics rushed the pitch and the team cleared out, leaving the field empty and the crowd restless.
Ninety minutes since the ambulance had pulled around the side of the clubhouse, and no one had told us anything.

I refused to get back on the bus.

I didn't care that the teachers were herding people toward the coaches, or that the lads were already packing up, or that Coach had come by twice to tell Niamh and me to sit tight.
I wasn't leaving until I knew.

Until someone said the words out loud – that he was okay, or stable, or not dying on a blood-soaked pitch in Donegal while I stood around pretending it didn't matter.

Niamh sat next to me on the bench outside the clubhouse, her arms crossed tight over her chest, face grim.

My hands wouldn't stop shaking.

I kept tucking them under my thighs, then pulling them free again, then shoving them into my sleeves like I could trap the tremors in the fabric.

The front door creaked open.

I shot to my feet so fast Niamh grabbed my sleeve on instinct.

Hughie, Feely and Gibsie stepped out into the car park.
Their faces told me everything before a single word left their mouths.

Pale.
Tight.
Shattered.

I didn't wait.

"What happened? Is he okay? Is he awake? Is he-"

"Maeve." Feely cut in, holding up a hand.

But I kept going.

"Why isn't anyone telling us anything? They said it wasn't serious, so why's it been half an hour? Is he at the hospital? Did they move him? Did he—"

"Maeve." Gibsie's voice was rough. Firmer. "Slow down."

I couldn't.

Because my chest was cracking open and I needed to say all of it before it swallowed me whole.

"I should've stopped him." I choked out, my voice breaking hard. "I knew he was hurt. I knew and I still let him go out there."

"Maeve." Hughie took a step forward.

"No." I felt the sob hit my throat like a punch. "I didn't stop him. I should've—if I'd just said something—if I'd made him—"

"Stop." Gibsie grabbed my shoulders, steady and solid like always. "Stop it."

I squeezed my eyes shut, shaking my head. "This is my fault."

"It's not."
His voice didn't rise. Didn't snap.
It stayed steady. Like a tether.

"I knew." I whispered. "I saw it — the limp, the pain — and I didn't say a fucking word."

Gibsie let out a shaky breath. "I knew too."

He gave a grim smile. "I knew. Hell, Coach probably suspected. And none of us could stop him."

My throat burned. "Why?"

"Because it's Johnny Kavanagh." Gibsie said simply. "And trying to stop him is like standing in front of a moving train and asking it politely not to flatten you."

I felt a laugh, sharp and broken, get caught somewhere between my lungs and throat.

"Maeve." Gibsie's voice softened. "This isn't on you. It was never on you. You couldn't have stopped him. None of us could."

I wiped at my face with my sleeves, the cold air stinging my wet skin.
I hated crying in front of people.

"What's the damage?" I managed.

He hesitated.
And that hesitation told me everything.

"Tell me, Gibsie."

He sighed. "They're waiting on the ambulance now. He's got a tear in the muscle, maybe worse. They're taking him to hospital. Surgeon's already been called."

I covered my mouth with my hand, the world tilting again.

"And—" I swallowed. "He's awake?"

"Yeah." Gibsie nodded.

The ache in my chest cracked a little.

"I need to see him." I said instantly, my voice rough and shaky but sure.

Gibsie didn't even blink.

"I was hoping you'd say that."
He squeezed my shoulder. "Come on."

Feely glanced between us, then at Niamh.

"Come on." Feely told her gently. "Let's get you back on the bus."

"I'm not leaving Maeve here alone." Niamh protested.

"You won't be." Gibsie cut in. "I'll be with her. She needs this. Johnny needs this."

Niamh clenched her jaw but gave a tight nod.
Feely steered her away toward the bus.

Hughie lingered a second longer, giving me a look that said everything he wasn't saying aloud.

Then he followed.

And then it was just me and Gibsie.

He nodded toward the side of the clubhouse. "They've got him in the physio room till the ambulance gets here. I'll take you in. But be ready, Maeve. He's a mess."

I didn't hesitate.

"Lead the way."

And for once, I didn't run.

I went to him.