AN: I managed to write a chapter today and almost 700 PS. So, here you go, another chapter.
[3k words] Lacking Powerstones
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[A few hours later...] [Hospital Private Room]
The adrenaline wore off somewhere between kissing Haley and the ice pack.
Jack lay back on the hospital bed, ankle wrapped thick, ribs taped, left shoulder strapped tight enough to remind him every time he breathed too deeply. The room smelled like disinfectant and that familiar yet weird artificial lemon scent.
He stared at the ceiling tiles, replaying the game and then the kiss with Haley.
And now this.
The door opened and his parents stepped back inside.
Richard still had his phone in his hand like he had been handling calls in the hallway. His suit jacket was folded neatly over his arm. Even though he tried not to look worried, Jack could see a little hint of worry behind his calm face.
Sarah walked straight to the bed and brushed Jack's hair back like he was eight again.
"You scared us," she said quietly.
Jack blinked at her. "I'm fine."
The doctor had already delivered the verdict: Bad ankle sprain, bruised ribs and strained left shoulder.
"Complete rest for at least three weeks," the doctor had said while scrolling through scans on a tablet. "After that, physical therapy and light exercise. Full recovery should be around six weeks if you follow instructions."
'Six weeks. Well, I'll have enough time to write my books... Maybe I'll write a couple of movie scripts or game stories,' Jack thought. Then he felt the pain in his ribs again. 'Dang! So, I have photographic memory, great stamina, somewhat good speed and very bad endurance. In short, the cheats came with some weaknesses. What the fuck is this, some kind of survival RPG with pre-set stats?'
Richard pulled a chair closer to the bed.
"You played exceptionally well tonight," he said with a smile, looking proud and happy. "We watched the whole thing."
Jack turned his head slowly and raised an eyebrow. "You did?"
Sarah smiled. "We got there before kickoff. We didn't tell you because we didn't want to distract you."
For a second, he just stared at them.
He had not expected that. Not really. They were usually busy with meetings, flights and conferences. The kind of schedule that made family dinners feel like rare calendar events.
He never imagined they would show up for a high school game.
Something warm and unfamiliar settled in his chest. He didn't know how to express it in words. So...
"Oh," he said, trying to keep it casual. "That's… cool."
Sarah laughed softly. "Cool? You caught the winning touchdown in front of scouts. The whole stadium nearly collapsed from screaming."
Richard nodded once. "That final route adjustment was impressive. You read the linebacker perfectly."
Jack shrugged carefully, wincing when his ribs protested. "It was there."
Sarah looked between them, then her expression shifted into something suspiciously playful.
"So," she said lightly, sitting on the edge of the bed. "You never told us you had a girlfriend."
Jack froze for half a second.
Of course, that was coming.
"She's outside, isn't she?" Jack asked. "With her parents...?"
His mom nodded. "Uh-hum."
"Both of you met her and her family?"
His parents both nodded at the same time.
"So?" His mom asked. "How long have you two been dating? How and where did you two meet?"
While Jack and his parents were talking...
[Outside]
Phil sat in one of the blue waiting chairs with his hands clasped together like he was trying very hard not to pace. The foam finger was gone, replaced by a visitor sticker peeling at the corner of his shirt. He kept glancing at the closed door every few seconds as if staring hard enough might make it open.
Haley could not sit still. She had been walking back and forth for the past five minutes, arms wrapped tight around herself, cheer jacket half zipped and hair still in its high ponytail from the game. Her makeup had smudged under her eyes, and she had not even noticed.
A few minutes earlier, they had finally met Jack's parents properly.
Richard had shaken Phil's hand and thanked him for staying. Sarah had hugged Haley without hesitation, which caught her off guard in the gentlest way possible. They both looked composed and polite, but there had been a clear edge of worry behind their smiles.
Phil had leaned toward Haley once they stepped into the hallway and whispered, "They seem nice. Like, surprisingly normal for people who look like they negotiate billion-dollar deals before breakfast."
Haley had barely reacted.
Now she stopped pacing for half a second, stared at the door again, then resumed walking.
"Haley," Phil said softly. "Sweetheart, sit down before you wear a trench into the tile."
"I can't sit," she replied, voice tight. "If I sit, I'm going to start thinking, and if I start thinking, I'm going to freak out and start crying."
Phil patted the empty chair next to him anyway. "The doctor said he'll be fine. Sprain, bruises, strain. That's football language for dramatic but fixable."
Haley stopped walking.
Her eyes were glassy, and she blinked fast like she was fighting something back.
"It's my fault," she said quietly.
Phil straightened. "Okay. That's a big statement."
She shook her head. "I made him a stupid promise, and he wanted to win so badly because of it." Her voice cracked a little. "He pushed himself because of me. And now he's in there wrapped like a mummy."
Phil's expression softened immediately.
"Haley," he said gently. "Football players push themselves because they are football players. That is literally the job description."
"You didn't see his face when he fell," she insisted. "For a second I thought he wasn't getting up. And I just stood there like an idiot in a cheer skirt."
Phil leaned forward, elbows on his knees.
"Listen to me," he said. "Jack gave it his all out there and won the game. So, don't undermine his efforts by saying he did it just for a promise. And even if he did it for a promise, the effort he put into it was real and he looked happy, didn't he? Did you see his face when the team won?"
Haley wiped under her eye quickly, annoyed at herself.
"He probably hates me," she muttered. "He probably thinks I'm distracting. Or dramatic. Or too much." Then she spiraled as usual. "Oh my god! Dad... What if he breaks up with me? What am I going to do?"
Phil let out a soft breath and went into full serious dad mode.
"Haley Dunphy," he said. "That boy just caught you mid-air in front of half the town. If he thought you were too much, he would not have done that like it was the final scene of a rom-com."
She looked at him, torn between wanting to believe him and not trusting anything right now.
Phil continued. "We met his parents. They came all the way out here to watch him play. They looked worried but proud. And when they looked at you, they didn't look angry. They looked grateful that someone cared that much. So, take a deep breath and sit. And trust me, there won't be any breakups tonight."
Haley swallowed.
"I just… I don't want to be the reason he gets hurt," she said, softer now. "I don't want to mess this up."
Phil reached over and squeezed her hand.
Haley stared at their joined hands like she needed the contact to stay grounded. Her breathing had slowed a little, but every few seconds her shoulders still hitched.
Phil spoke again, keeping his voice low and steady. "You know what the best part of tonight was? Not just the touchdown or the win or even that crazy jump-and-catch moment with you two. It was watching Jack look up at the stands right after the whistle. He found you first. Before his teammates, before the coaches, before anybody else. That look on his face said everything he didn't have time to say out loud."
Haley's eyes flicked up to meet his. "You really think so?"
"I know so," Phil answered without hesitation. "I've spent years reading people's faces for a living. That one was easy. He wasn't thinking about scouts or stats or even the pain that was probably already starting. He was thinking about you. And when a guy looks at someone like that after a game like tonight, he isn't planning his exit speech. He's planning how soon he can see her again."
She let out a shaky laugh that turned into a sniff. "You make it sound so simple."
"Because it is simple," Phil said. "Relationships get complicated when people start overthinking every little thing. Right now, Jack is in there with ice packs and tape and probably replaying that last play in his head a hundred times. But I guarantee you one of those replays includes you jumping into his arms. That memory is stronger than any bruise."
Haley wiped her face again with the sleeve of her cheer jacket. The mascara streaks had dried into faint dark lines on her cheeks. "I still feel awful. Like I should have told him to slow down or something. Like I should have been the responsible one for once."
Phil tilted his head. "Haley, you cheered louder than anybody in that stadium. You kept the whole sideline energized. You gave him something to run toward every time he crossed the white line. That isn't making him push too hard. That's giving him a reason to push exactly as hard as he wanted to push. There's a difference."
She considered that for a second, chewing the inside of her cheek. "I guess."
"You know," Phil continued, lifting a finger like he had just remembered a bonus level in a game, "you guys are teenagers. A little drama is basically part of the starter pack. That is normal. The real thing that matters is whether you show up for each other when it actually counts. Tonight, you did. He did. The scoreboard did its flashy little confirmation dance. Everything else? Just background static."
Haley finally sat down in the chair next to him. Her legs felt heavy, like the adrenaline crash had caught up all at once. She leaned her head against his shoulder, the same way she used to when she was little and the world felt too big.
"Thanks, Dad," she whispered.
Phil wrapped an arm around her, giving her a reassuring squeeze. "Anytime, kiddo. And hey, when you go into that room, you're going to walk right up to him, look him in the eye, and tell him how great he was out there on the field tonight, but no apologies or guilt trips."
Haley nodded against his shoulder. "Okay. I can do that."
"Good," Phil said. "Because I'm pretty sure the second he sees you, the only thing he's going to be thinking about is how fast he can get another hug. Bruised ribs or not."
She smiled for real this time, small but genuine.
...
//Phil's confession//
Phil sits on the couch with his hands folded in his lap, trying very hard to look like a man who has made a clear, responsible parenting decision.
"So… technically… Haley is grounded for two weeks," he says.
He winces almost immediately.
"There was a curfew situation. And a don't-run-onto-the-field-in-front-of-scouts-and-tackle-your-boyfriend-mid-celebration situation." He shrugs, like it all falls neatly under the same category. "Minor stuff. Teachable moments."
He leans forward, lowering his voice, even though no one else is in the room.
"But then we were in the hospital. And she was crying. And Jack was wrapped up like a burrito."
Phil exhales.
"And I had this whole speech ready. Very dad-forward. You know, strong, structured and maybe even laminated."
He pauses.
"I could not tell her."
He shakes his head, a little helpless.
"I mean… she was spiraling and blaming herself and questioning love... Mascara everywhere." A small, tired smile slips out. "It was like a Nicholas Sparks emergency."
He nodded.
"So yeah… grounding postponed."
He straightens quickly, as if correcting the record.
"Not canceled. Postponed by a few hours. There's a difference. I'm still a parent."
A tiny pause.
"…A parent with terrible timing."
Phil nods to himself, committing to it. "Two weeks... Eventually."
"Probably."
//Phil's confession End//
...
A few minutes later, the door to the private room swung open. Richard stepped out first, still holding his phone. Sarah followed right behind him.
Phil and Haley both shot to their feet at the same time. Haley's hands twisted together in front of her cheer jacket while Phil gave a quick, hopeful smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.
Haley spoke before anyone else could. "How is he? Is he okay? Can I go in?"
Richard nodded once, calm and measured, the way he always was in situations that required steady hands. "He's tough. A few weeks of bed rest, then physical therapy. He'll be back on his feet before you know it."
Phil exhaled through his nose like he had been holding the breath since the final whistle. "That's good news. Really good news."
Sarah gave a small, tired smile. "He's already complaining about the hospital Jell-O. That's a positive sign."
Haley shifted her weight from one foot to the other. "Does he… does he want visitors? Or should we wait until tomorrow?"
Richard glanced back toward the room for a second before answering. "He asked about you specifically. Said something about making sure Haley didn't make a trench in the hallway floor."
Haley's cheeks went pink under the smudged makeup. "He said that?"
Sarah laughed quietly. "Word for word. He's got his sense of humor intact, at least."
Phil clapped his hands together once, softer than usual. "See? Told you. Kid's already plotting his next dramatic entrance."
Richard slipped his phone into his pocket. "We're heading out to grab some coffee from the cafeteria and make a few calls. The room is yours."
Sarah reached over and touched Haley's arm lightly. "Before you go in, I wanted to say something."
Haley froze, suddenly worried all over again.
Sarah's voice stayed gentle. "Thank you for cheering him on tonight. Really. We watched from the stands, and every time he made a play, we could hear your voice cutting through everything else. That kind of support matters more than you probably realize. It gave him something extra to fight for out there."
Haley blinked a couple of times. "I… I didn't think anyone could hear me over the band and the crowd."
Richard smiled faintly. "We heard you. And so did he."
Phil wrapped an arm around Haley's shoulders and gave her a quick side hug. "Go on. Tell him we're proud of him. And tell him his future father-in-law says no more jumping fences with taped ribs."
Haley rolled her eyes, but the corner of her mouth lifted. "Dad."
Sarah and Richard smiled at her reaction.
Haley took one deep breath, squared her shoulders, and went to Jack's private room.
Phil watched the door close, then turned to Jack's parents. "She's been a wreck out here. I'm really glad he's doing okay."
Richard nodded. "She cares. That's obvious. And Jack cares right back. They'll figure the rest out."
Sarah glanced toward the cafeteria sign down the hall. "Come on. Let's grab some coffee and snacks. We can trade embarrassing stories about our kids while they talk."
Phil grinned for real this time. "Deal. I've got a whole folder of Haley's greatest hits. Starting with the time she tried to dye her hair with Kool-Aid in middle school."
They started walking together, voices fading down the corridor, leaving the quiet hospital hallway behind them.
[Inside the room]
"Hey," Jack smiled, seeing Haley enter.
"Hey," Haley said softly.
"I look like a mummy."
"Yes, you do look like one."
Jack took his phone from the pillowside. "Here, take a pic. I wanna make it my social media profile pic."
Haley couldn't help but chuckle as she walked over and took his phone...
...And, they began to talk, take a couple of photos and joke.
...
//Haley's confession//
Haley sat on the couch.
She's still in her cheer jacket, hair a little messy now, but there's a calm to her that wasn't there earlier. When she starts talking, her voice is softer than anyone is used to hearing.
"So… he made a joke," she says, a small laugh slipping out before she can stop it. "That was the first thing he did."
She shakes her head, smiling to herself.
"He's literally wrapped in tape and asking me to take a picture so he can make it his profile photo."
For a moment, she looks off to the side, like she's replaying the scene in her head.
"I went in there ready to be strong," she says. "Like… supportive girlfriend energy. No crying and very mature."
There's a short pause.
"And then he smiled at me."
Her expression softens in a way that feels unguarded.
"And it was the same smile. The touchdown smile. The 'I found you in the stands' smile."
Her voice drops a little.
"And I realized… he's okay."
She nods to herself, like she needs to hear it out loud.
"He doesn't blame me. He's not mad. He's not secretly planning a breakup speech."
An awkward little laugh escapes her.
"He was planning a selfie."
A dreamy smile creeps onto her face.
"He kept replaying the game, and every time it got to the part where he looked at the stands, he'd go, 'That's where you were screaming like a maniac.'"
She lifts one shoulder in a light shrug.
"I told him I wasn't screaming. I was projecting confidence," she says, then adds with a soft grin, "Which is totally different."
The smile fades into something quieter.
"I was so scared I messed everything up. But when I sat next to him and he reached for my hand like it was the most normal thing in the world…" She trails off for half a second. "It just felt steady. Like we're steady."
She looks down briefly, then back up.
"I don't know what's gonna happen in six weeks. Or next season. Or next year."
A small, certain smile settles in.
"But right now?" She nods once. "He's okay. We're okay."
And, almost to herself, she adds softly, "And we're together."
//Haley's Confession End//
----[AN: That's it for this week.]
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