A/N: So this is a syoc story. Here is the beginning of the story. the form is at the bottom. Just copy/paste and send it to me in a pm.
The Drive
August 27, 2010
The sun had just begun to peek over the horizon, casting a golden glow over the quiet streets of Atlanta, Georgia. Merrill Andrews sat behind the wheel of his well-worn Chevy pickup truck, the familiar hum of the engine accompanying his thoughts. The drive from his apartment to the Atlanta Falcons training facility in Flowery Branch was a routine he knew well, but today felt different. Today, he had been summoned to the coach's office, and the knot in his stomach tightened with every mile. Running a hand through his hair he sighed. The moppy brownish-blonde strands fall naturally swept to the left, giving him a youthful, approachable appearance, accentuating his greenish-blue eyes. It felt weird to be entering his second year in the NFL and he couldn't believe that on October seventeenth, he'd officially be in mid-twenties as he'll turn twenty-five.
As he navigated through the early morning traffic, Merrill couldn't help but reflect on the journey that had brought him here. Growing up in Yorktown, Virginia, he had always been a standout athlete. His talent for kicking a football became apparent in high school, where he set records and earned a reputation as a reliable and talented player. His skills earned him a scholarship to Georgia Southern University, where he pursued a degree in nursing, balancing his time between rigorous academic coursework and the demanding schedule of college football.
Nursing was not just a backup plan; it was a passion for Merrill. He had always been drawn to helping others, a trait instilled in him by his mother, who was a nurse herself. The challenge of balancing football and nursing school had been immense, but he thrived on it. The long hours of study, clinical rotations, and football practice had taught him discipline and resilience.
The transition from college to the pros had been challenging. The competition was fierce, and every practice was a test of his skills and resilience. But Merrill was used to challenges. His father, a former high school football coach, had instilled in him a relentless work ethic and a love for the game. His mother had been his unwavering support, always encouraging him to pursue his dreams no matter how difficult the path.
Merrill's thoughts drifted to the Falcons' training camp. He remembered the sweltering heat of the summer practices, the camaraderie of his teammates, and the intense pressure of the preseason games. Every kick, every drill, every team meeting was a step toward his goal of securing a spot on the active roster. The coaches had noticed his dedication, and he had felt a glimmer of hope that this year might be different.
As he merged onto the highway, the familiar landmarks of Atlanta whizzed by – the skyline he had come to love, the parks where he often practiced on his own, and the local diner where he and his teammates would grab a bite after a grueling day. The city had become his second home, a place where his dreams seemed within reach.
Despite the growing anxiety, Merrill allowed himself a moment of optimism. The call to the coach's office could mean a lot of things. Perhaps they had decided to give him more playing time, or maybe they saw in him the potential for a breakthrough season. But the fear of the unknown lingered, a shadow over his thoughts.
The drive to Flowery Branch was a familiar one, yet today it felt longer than usual. The training facility, with its sprawling fields and state-of-the-art amenities, was a place of both opportunity and uncertainty. As Merrill pulled into the parking lot, he took a deep breath, trying to steady his nerves. He parked his truck and sat for a moment, gathering his thoughts before heading inside.
The training facility was already buzzing with activity. Teammates greeted him with nods and smiles, but there was an air of anticipation that hung over everyone. Cuts were inevitable this time of year, and each player knew the stakes.
Merrill made his way to the locker room, where he methodically changed into his training gear. His locker, a small space adorned with personal mementos and photos, felt like a sanctuary. He looked at a picture of his family taped to the inside of the locker door. It was a reminder of why he was here, of the dreams that had carried him this far.
As he walked towards the coach's office, his heart pounded in his chest. The corridor seemed to stretch endlessly, each step echoing his uncertainty. He reached the office door and knocked softly.
"Come in," a voice called from inside.
Merrill opened the door to find Head Coach Mike Smith and Director of Player Personnel David Caldwell waiting for him. The expressions on their faces were serious, but not unkind.
"Have a seat, Merrill," Coach Smith said, gesturing to the chair in front of his desk.
Merrill sat down, his hands clasped tightly in his lap. The room was quiet for a moment, the weight of the situation palpable.
"First off, Merrill, I want to commend you for your hard work and dedication this preseason," Coach Smith began. "You've shown great potential, and your commitment hasn't gone unnoticed."
David Caldwell leaned forward. "Merrill, we've had to make some tough decisions regarding the roster. As of today, we're going to release you from the active roster."
Merrill felt his heart sink, but before he could fully process the news, Coach Smith continued.
"However, we believe in your abilities and want to keep you within our system. We'd like to re-sign you to the practice squad."
Relief washed over Merrill. It wasn't the ideal outcome, but it meant he still had a place on the team and another chance to prove himself.
"Thank you, Coach. I appreciate the opportunity," Merrill said, his voice steady despite the whirlwind of emotions.
As Merrill left the office, he was stopped by one of his teammates, Jake Matthews, who was hunched over and clutching his stomach.
"Merrill, man, I feel like I'm burning up," Jake said, his voice weak.
Merrill immediately went into caretaker mode, a habit ingrained from his nursing training. He helped Jake to a nearby bench and checked his forehead, which was hot to the touch.
"Jake, you need to see the team doctor," Merrill said, concerned.
"I just came from there. They said it's probably just a bug, but it feels worse than that," Jake replied, wincing.
"I'll take you back," Merrill insisted.
Together, they made their way to the medical office, where the team doctor took over. Merrill watched for a moment, making sure Jake was in good hands before heading to the weight room to get in some reps. The weight room was nearly empty, save for a few players silently going through their routines. Merrill pushed himself hard, trying to channel his anxiety into his workout. The clang of weights and the rhythmic sound of his own breathing provided a temporary distraction from the morning's events.
After his workout, Merrill headed out to the practice field. The fresh air and the feel of the grass under his cleats were comforting. He focused on his kicks, each one a ritual that grounded him. The repetition was meditative, and for a while, he could almost forget about the uncertainty of his future with the team.
As the sun climbed higher in the sky, Merrill decided it was time to head home. He showered and changed back into his street clothes, grabbing his bag from his locker. The walk to his truck felt longer than usual, each step weighed down by the events of the day.
As he drove back through the city, he noticed an unusual number of ambulances and police cars speeding past, their sirens blaring. Something felt off, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it. He chalked it up to the general chaos of the city and continued on his way.
When he finally reached his apartment, Merrill collapsed onto his couch, exhausted. He turned on the TV to catch up on the news, hoping to unwind, but what he saw made his heart race. Reports of a strange illness spreading rapidly through Atlanta filled the screen. Hospitals were overwhelmed, and authorities were urging people to stay indoors.
Merrill's phone buzzed with messages from teammates and friends, all echoing the same concern. The burning fever Jake had complained about suddenly took on a more ominous significance. As the reality of the situation began to sink in, Merrill knew that the challenges he faced on the field were nothing compared to what lay ahead.
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