Fandom: German National team
Disclaimer: I still don't know people mentioned in this story and I still hope it isn't true. The plot is still only my fantasy
Summary: Excuses, Joachim's POV.
Author's notes, previous chapters and music here
Timeline for the series is here
He’s calling me in the middle of the night. His voice is weary and tired, as if he was ill and is just getting better, and when he takes another breath there is this cracking sound that is always present in transcontinental calls, that shows how far he is from me now, as if I needed another reminder.
“I’m sorry that I’ve left in such manner, not even saying goodbye”, he says, and he’s trying for a light tone, attempting to placate me probably. “I’ve come home late in the night and didn’t want to wake you up early in the morning. I’m sorry that I didn’t even say goodbye”.
“Where did you spend the night?”, though it won’t bring anything, he’s had enough time to discuss everything with Völler and even if they never met in London I won’t find out if Völler lied to me or not. And if my words are too harsh, if I’m cutting him off in the middle of his explanations, it’s only well-deserved, though I don’t mean to hurt him. He too didn’t mean to hurt me, I know, but he did.
“With Rudi”, without a pause, without hesitation, and doesn’t he understand how does it sound, what one can think hearing such an answer?
“I’m sorry, Joachim”, as if the pause I’ve made was too long, as if he wants to get it over with as soon as possible, as if excusing himself before me is nothing more than an unpleasant chore.
“Forget it”, yes, Jürgen, forget it, forget that you’ve left me without any explanation, forget that it took you two days to remember about my existence, I doubt it matters to you – so forget about it, the sooner the better. I will forget too.
“These days the flights make me more tired than they used to”, as if he is answering to my previous thought, saying sorry once again – excuses again, and I am tired too – more than I’ve used to be.
“Be careful”, falls from my lips, it’s normal to wish that the man you love will be careful. It’s so normal to wish that he’ll want to talk with you, and that he won’t look for excuses to explain everything he does. I’m sorry too, Jürgen, I shouldn’t have left you out of my sight for the whole two days that you’ve spent in London, this damned London, and if I was careful enough then you wouldn’t have the need to find excuses now.
“I will, if you will”, a hint of a smile appears in his voice. I will, Jürgen. From now on I will. I’ve learned my lesson in this goddamned
“Goodnight, Joachim”, you add, in patient and even tone. ‘Joachim’, not ‘dearest’ like always in such moments. Something has happened in this thrice damned
“Goodnight”, and I’m listening to the short beeps wishing that I could see you face, that I could ask you the questions I want to ask, but as always it doesn’t matter what I want.