Step back
Author's note: I'm really grateful to pgirl1986 and struttingstreets who beta'ed this thing. The story takes place around Season 2, episode 21 and on with little changes to the timeline. I know I'm late to the party, but…
Tia can't take her eyes off him.
Rocket is turning a pen over and over, biting the top of it, scrutinizing other team's weaknesses on a screen as he used to do, and the way he looks—the atmosphere—is all too familiar and homely that the discordance with evening matches in the Sphere strikes her, making it hard to breathe.
...He fell back into their daily routine as if he never left. The part of him that was awakened by Netherball and clawed its way into the light, seemed to lie waiting ever since but instantly reared its ugly head during the practice. Far away from playing as a team, their first game after the reunion made it clear that a comeback in itself didn't mean anything. In just about two weeks Rocket forgot that a ball was not his personal property. Tia was torn between him and the team—tried to smooth things over while knocking some sense into Rocket ("Snap out of it! You're not alone here, we're a team!"), and argued with Mei during a break ("Let me handle it, Mei.") while being mildly annoyed with D'Jok who, to his credit, really wanted to bring the former captain back, not expecting to pull off the final matches all by himself, and Micro-Ice, whose temper flared on the field in no time. As if it was someone else who squeezed the breath out of Rocket only yesterday. She thought that it would be enough to drag him out of the Sphere, that it would be like it had been before, but she had to admit, at least to herself—the minute Tia saw an underground live stream she knew that they would have it tough. Though it was hard to say who would have it tougher, Rocket or the team.
The Lightnings make yet another headway on the holo-TV, and Rocket leans forward, seemingly wishing to sneak onto the field if not into Warren's head. Tia leaves the balcony. She can't fulfil a need to feel him—see him, touch him, talk to him, just be in the same room—without a wave of dread surging through her at the thought that she imagined it all. Rocket, the Sphere, and coming back together. Her camera is practically glued to her hands now—much more so than usual—because videos of the last four years did not suffice. Who would have guessed that they all could be watched within a few days? Tia had a fortnight. Even Mei learned the beginning of every scene by heart. She was hardly thrilled.
The habit causes Rocket to shake his head, but his hair has already been tamed into a short stub of a ponytail. Tia wishes to let all that hair down, but doesn't dare do so. It reminds her of Netherball, makes Rocket look severe, almost feral—an expression you'd rather wipe off and forget. She presses one hand to her stomach which had the misfortune to get too familiar with a steel wall, then puts her arms around him, squeezing him as tight as she can from behind while clenching her teeth. Almost all her anger and resentment have been left in the Sphere. For a moment she let herself revel in the sweet taste of victory, unabashedly bruising his ego (You had it coming, Rocket. You get what you deserve.) and after that—reached out. Back then she almost forgave him, seeing that disbelieving, questioning look on his face.
Rocket pauses, glancing at her over his shoulder. With her eyes squeezed shut, Tia presses her forehead against his back and let the tight knot inside her loose, convincing herself that there is still no such thing as a solid hologram. Her heart leaps, then pounds painfully behind her ribs, her fingers shake a little. She clutches his shirt tighter—the last thing she wants is to show that her nerves are good for nothing now. She doesn't expect him to react—it was impossible to drag him away from football even before, and now, with all that catching up, there is little chance to do it, but… Rocket removes her hands.
Mei cornered him in the Holotrainer the same evening after the disastrous practice. Clamp, being extremely accommodating, switched off the microphones inside the cube and decided it was time to make some tea.
She didn't give him a chance to prepare—a barely materialized ball was kicked so hard it flew lightning-quick in his direction. Rocket barely had time to dodge. If it wasn't for his reflexes, the blow wouldn't take him just in his shoulder. Mei's goal had been a little higher.
"You know how much I dreamed of it?"
"Hey, easy!"
"Can you imagine how many times she cried?" His face twisted. That's right, Mei thought. It was time to listen to what Tia had been through while he was enjoying himself. Mei had been silently choking with fury for a long time, but the recent practice became the last straw. Screw Rocket. Mark was just fine in his place. It was a shame she was the only one who thought so. "And how many times she watched your videos? I expected her camera to smoke! She hung out with your parents more than with us. She looked like hell these damn two weeks! She even had a fight with D'Jok because of you, and he had already been on edge before The All-Stars—" Mei broke off. It wasn't exactly wise to bring up the match and rub it in his face that he wasn't their captain anymore. She was going to enlighten him about the state Tia had been in, not to rile the boys up against one another. It was too late, though.
Rocket was standing still, face turned away from her, when he suddenly raised his head. Smirked—the same way he did with his opponents in Netherball. That sneer hardened his expression, making him not unlike Sinedd at his worst. Mei couldn't care less about all the skills he honed and all the players he beat. That didn't make him a better person.
"So, you're here for D'Jok? I'm sure he didn't suffer long. Guess it's hard to stay upset when dreams come true."
Mei lost her voice. Opened her mouth, then closed it without a word. She wouldn't want to rile her dear friend Rocket, but well, he just asked for it. Besides, what else could she do except rush to Jok's defense?
"He was waiting for you to return! As we all did."
"Right from the day I was forced out, really?"
Mei pursed her lips stubbornly. It was true Rocket hadn't been a people person beyond the pitch, but now it became even worse—he avoided any attempts to talk to him if he wasn't in the mood. Tia was the only exception. Mei had mentioned D'Jok at the wrong time, and Rocket had taken advantage of it, changing the unpleasant—for him—subject. These revelations should've been put off until Rocket, as well as the team, adapted again, but Mei couldn't bring herself to tune in to him.
"Don't point fingers at D'Jok, it's not about him now—"
"Enough, Mei. I've heard you. About Tia."
Mei narrowed her eyes. There was no way she wouldn't have the last word.
"I doubt it," she said, turning her face away with a wave of her hair.
The pitch was completely still, not even a juggling ball disturbing the silence. The spell broke when Clamp returned. Before the walls of the Holotrainer dissolved all the way through, Mei said shortly, "Don't let her down again, Rocket."
As the ball reappeared, it flew to goal with the force which Galaxy Guns couldn't dream of displaying.
Rocket remembers Netherball... in flashes. Thrill. Triumph. The roar and faces of fans who felt as high as he did. (Lost their minds, someone else would say.) New terms, though the opponents were all too familiar. But those times there was no place for mercy as there were no rules in the Sphere. No referees, no team, no restrictions. No one could get you suspended. The underground club gave a chance to anyone willing to take it. Rocket was. And he was the only one who used it to the fullest. Being the Champion of the Sphere felt good. Intoxicating, even.
After her victory, when they were alone, Tia mercilessly said that he had got drunk on fame even heavier than D'Jok did during the first Cup. At least, my shots didn't miss the target, Rocket returned without thinking. The look in her eyes clearly reminded him that she had something to tell on the subject but wouldn't. Tia would react sharply, albeit silently, to his jabs at Rocket in the first trainings. Now she was ready to defend him, no matter how irritating D'Jok was being. It... stung. A surprisingly unpleasant feeling clung to Rocket and seemed to spread. His relationship with D'Jok was never easy—their personalities clashed, and the unspoken rivalry between them waxed and waned, occasionally kicking up sparks on the field. Tia had always been taking his side. Had. He really must have pushed her over the edge.
Rocket would follow the GFC tournament in the daylight when Netherball let his thoughts drift somewhere else, sitting in a pretty lousy hotel. If the Snow Kids were playing, he would get to the streets of Genesis, close to large holoscreens. At first, he did worry about how Aarch would solve the absence of a midfielder, though later he just came to check that Tia was safe and sound. The brief moments when cameras caught her face were enough for him to keep on as is, make it to the evening and get lost in the Sphere, taking vague irritation out on just another opponent. The Snow Kids had been managing fine without him. He did not need to return. Rocket didn't really think what would become of their relationship with Tia. In fact, he wasn't even going to address it until Tia and the rest of the team came over to his little kingdom. As D'Jok, of all people, was leading her away after that brief but heavy conversation, something nagged at the back of his mind, though it was quickly swept by the bliss of a new match. Rocket didn't need her confessions as well as her being around the Sphere. He brushed her off, confident that he had found his place in life, though he had to make an effort to maintain eye contact with her.
Even though he was more or less sane—or seemed so—during the first Netherball matches, it was the last one with Tia which burned into his memory. He completely lost all sense of reality. Confusing images of ever changing opponents showing signs of concern, taunting him with bewildering questions, made him angrier and angrier. The surroundings rippled like a holo-TV with a broken connection. He didn't know how to end this, so he simply let it go. There was only a ball that begged to shoot a goal. By all means, regardless of the obstacles. He did just that. He was sure the crowd ran wild—and guessed right. The fans roared, bordering on the thin line of being high which usually was followed by a craving for distraction and blood, be it their own or the recent favorite star's.
And then he tripped Luur up, grinning, when a wall moved out to meet him, and scored. He turned his head hearing a familiar voice utter his name, and saw Tia. Tia who was lying on the floor in a position Luur or any other of his hallucinations should have been. Tia who lived in a world parallel to the Sphere. They were not allowed to cross. The lower level of Genesis Stadium existed for those who came there for the sake of their ego. Tia never fell for glory. This. Could. Not. Be. True. Just another hallucination.
Reality blurred on the edges.
Rocket blinked. The hallucination in front of him stopped wobbling.
The realization struck like a ball in the head.
Tia. Real, live Tia, and he almost...
His conscience whose voice had been successfully silenced by the yelling of fans and childish grudge finally pushed through and screamed for him to think. To look back at what he had done. Rocket took a step forward, then another, dropped to his knee in front of Tia—she needs to see Simbai!—on the spur of the moment, promising her whatever she wanted.
Turned out, it wasn't enough already. Tia came to win. And, having seen the look of recognition on his face, she smashed him in three remaining minutes. What stuck with him was the way she looked up at him before she was up breaking for the ball. When she tricked him into bumping against a wall. When she scored so easily and humiliatingly, kicking the ball between his feet. A thought how elegant that goal had been came to him much later. Rocket was torn—he kept using cheap shots, yet breathed a sigh of relief every time she managed to evade them. The Sphere showed Tia in a new light—or that was his doing. Her moves turned sharp and determined, unlike anything the first half of the match was about. He felt and saw her anger, but, at some point, it became... festive? Hazardous. Frantic. The one that you have to release in any way and that bites with no regrets. She teased him with words, and Rocket gritted his teeth not to lash out. She tantalized him even with the way she scored. Grimacing, he kept fighting, not wishing to be a loser even while a small corner of his brain whispered to him why she was doing it.
She did put the final nail in the coffin of his Netherball career—and held out her hand. Called him home.
Rocket turns to face Tia and puts his arms on her shoulders while spinning her around to press her back to his chest. His hands run around her waist crisscrossed, and with his eyes half-closed he buries his nose into blonde hair. Tia tenses for a moment but then slides down a little, shifting for a comfortable spot, slumping against him as close as she can, not caring that they're on the cusp of falling off the bed. She mimics the way he's holding her, and covers his hands with her own.
The heat is spreading under her touch, his heart swelling and throat dry, but he has nothing to complain about. The image of Tia clutching to him from behind and her words he shrugged off at the Sphere flash before his eyes. Netherball definitely messed him up, though Mei managed to knock some sense into him. He has yet to apologize properly—though Tia said he was forgiven, his attempt in the Sphere can't count even by his own standards—but now there are other words on the tip of his tongue that want to be out. Rocket bends forward, pressing his forehead to hers at an awkward angle as she tilts her head to meet him, and finishes his silent thoughts with what she has known all along.
"What would I do without you?"
He feels her grinning against his cheek as Warren scores the final goal at the background making the crowd roar.