Ruin (boyxboy)

I'm Sick, Alan, Really Sick.

(A/N): I own nothing that might be recognized, basically all the credit goes to Rachel Van Dyken.

THREE THINGS:

a) I know fuckall about baseball so I'm sorry if I mess stuff up, because in the original story, Austin's a quarterback.

b) This is not the last chapter, please don't hate me after you read it AND KEEP READING THE STORY.

c) I don't think I can update soon because I'm spending time with my family for thanksgiving and I'm not sure if I can bring my laptop.

Okay, on with the chapter:

I knew something was wrong when the vision blurred in my right eye. I shook it off and pressed on. I had to win. For some reason I was envisioning the game as my battle with cancer; if I lost, I lost everything. I had to win. I had to.

-Austin-

I shook my head again; the blurriness cleared from my eyes. The medication was causing way more side effects than I imagined.

 I met the guys in the huddle and called the play. It was a trick play, where we missed a couple of pitches on purpose. One that was kind of risky for the beginning of a game, but we wanted to throw the Cougars off. Damn, I hated the Cougars, all Guachos did. I even hated their colors.

 "Ready? Break!" I waited a couple of turns then ran up to the home plate. As soon as I ran out, the crowd went wild.

 The pitcher threw a curveball, and I felt my bat make the connection with the ball before dropping it and sprinting around the diamond. I made a run, getting to the home plate just in time, sliding in just before the catcher touched the ball to it.

 "Good run!" Tony slapped my back. My vision blurred, this time it stayed.

 Shit and double shit.

 I tried shaking my head, but it wouldn't clear. I could see figures, but they were blurry. Everything was blurry, but I could still see the ball, and my breathing was normal. I was going to keep playing. I had to.

 We scored seven runs easily, and so began the hardest game of my life.

 Each time I shook my head the vision got worse. By the time the ninth inning was rolling around, I felt like I had drunk a whole bottle of tequila. My vision wasn't clear and my balance was so terrible that I had to focus on each step I took.

 We were ahead by so much that Coach took me out to give one of the freshman batters some experience. I think he saw that I was fading.

 I sat on the bench and pretended to be really into the game, which was hard considering all I could think about were the spots now invading my vision. Not good. It felt like I had a migraine coming on, but I couldn't be sure. Maybe I had overdone it. The good news was the game was already over so it didn't matter anymore.

 I just wanted to lie down with a cold compress against my head — well, I wanted that and to hold Alan, but I knew if he saw me like this, he would know what was wrong.

 We had a Homecoming party to go to tonight — I wasn't sure I would make it.

 I took another few sips of water and closed my eyes, hoping the rest would make it better.

 Another few minutes went by and Coach came up beside me and slapped me on the shoulder. "You want to do one last play?"

 I knew what he was asking.