Chapter Text
Somethings off about Will.
Jett may not have known him very long, but he's left a big impression. Because of him, she won- They won the Claw together. It was a team effort.
And since Modo won ownership of the team, still weird to think about, they had all off season to continue working as a team. Not just on the court. Corralling Archie's twin terrors was actually manageable when working together. Modo had taken everyone to try some abstract art class. Olivia had them all try a "how well do you know your friends" challenge that had been trending. Lenny invited them all to feature on his latest track. Will had been taking them to every hole-in-the-wall restaurant in Vineland for weekly team dinners.
It's been fun, doing stuff outside of roarball.
Jett's team bonding activity is roarball, of course. But it has been nice getting out and trying some new things, especially while her leg was-is recovering.
Will's been a bit quieter all week. Which was nice in some ways, but weird in some others. She didn't know he could get less annoying and for some reason it was more annoying? He hadn't bugged her with a new set of questions in the last few days. She shouldn't be worrying about it but she was. It's been a minute since she worried about her teammates outside of being able to play on the field.
A round of quick cheers pulls her back to the present.
They'd all been playing a quick round in the half court that Will had grown up in. It was cozy. It was a lot easier to take it easy and recover without the empty rows upon rows of seats surrounding her. The entire team had taken a liking to it. None of the others were taking it very seriously, so Jett took a breath and shoved every fiber of her being screaming that this was a Game to the back of her mind.
They were just taking turns shooting the ball at the basket. It was the easiest thing in the world. Lenny wasn't even standing while making the shoots, lounging on the stands and missing half his shoots due to the angle. Archie was lamenting the difficulties of trying to find a babysitter that didn't quit in five days. Modo wasn't even participating, just sunning on the stone seats.
Will, meanwhile, was bounding and jumping around, making throws from every angle he could and passing the ball around after every throw. He kept making ridiculous names for the throws: A.P.G. Net, Baa Baa Bucket. The kid probably has a back up career in comedy, which is half the requirement for being a roarball commentator anyway. It was fun.
Then he tripped on a root.
Which, yah, they'd all been there. It's been years since Jett tripped during a game, but she's gotten a paw caught in vine every now and then. When you live in a place called Vineland, tripping hazards are a fact of life.
But Will, the little over achiever, doesn't just trip and stumble. He falls head over heels down the stone steps, his limbs knocking against the railings and seats until skidding to a stop at the bottom.
He doesn't get up immediately. That's fine. He full body freezes from shock, Jett's seen it happen before. Modo jump scared him just this morning and they all had a laugh about it. It's never been a problem on the court. This is fine.
Half the team is by his side in an instant. Jett should have been the first one over there if her stupid leg could have just healed already. She's five feet away for crying out loud, the closest out of any of them. Instead she just stands there awkwardly as Dennis shoos the rest of the team away with his clip board.
Will doesn't complain at all as Dennis starts going through the injury check list. At least, not about the check list.
"Can you guys stop staring and start shooting again? Like, sorry for spooking you but..."
"Yah, yah," Olivia recovers first and darts over to recover the roarball.
"So, as I was saying before, Propp, the polar bear from the Shivers posted..." As Olivia patters on about some internet beef brewing between the Shivers and the Shadows, the rest of the team joins back in to shooting the hoop.
Jett's not listening. She watches the ball, makes the shoots when passed, but she listens to Dennis and Will. The kid takes the check list seriously, answering all the dumb sounding questions and doing all the simple stretches. Dennis says there might be a twisted ankle and they should get it checked out by a professional. For some reason, this kid says no. That he'll be fine.
He says it with that tone, the one that says he's not budging on this.
Dennis must hear it too because he only sighs and orders him to sit down for the rest of the session. Will doesn't argue.
Something was off with Will, but that was an issue for another time.
The rest of practice is long and awkward. It's obvious now that Will is usually the first one to fill any lulls in conversation. Now, Will is quiet. He answers questions just fine but the cheer isn't as cheery as before.
The first injury as a member of a roarball team, no matter how big or small, is always a shock to the system. Jett might know that better than anyone one the team. She's also the kids favorite, so she's the obvious pick to get him out of his head and back on track.
So the rest of the team moves out quietly and quickly, leaving the two alone in the court.
"Hey kid," she flicks one of his horns, bringing him back to reality, "you up for interviewing me again?"
"I mean yah, I'll never say no to that. But I think I've run out of questions since last time." He looks apologetic as he says it but he sounds distant. He keeps pressing on this one spot on his ribs, never when Dennis is looking, but once he realizes they're alone, he rests his hoof on the spot.
Jett says with a teasing lit, "I can think of a topic you haven't asked me about at all."
"Oh really, what's that?"
"What's it like to be injured in roarball."
His face wavers. He's not shutting down, but he's not jumping at the chance either.
"Look, Will, I'm not trying to make you feel bad or anything like that. This is a dangerous sport and we all get some kind of injury at some point. I'm surprised you made it through your first season without one. No one's going to make fun of you for getting an injury checked out."
"It's not that..."
He sighs and lays down on the stone stands.
"I know all about vets and hospitals. Too much really. I asked about this type of stuff to the nurses and vets when my mom first started making trips to the hospital. The nurses helped me develop my warm up routine actually."
"Really?"
"Yah. Looking back I think it was just to give me something to do other than sit there listening. I learned a lot in there. How much insurance costs. How much treatment costs. Check ups ain't cheap either."
Ah. Money. There's the issue. It's like no one has shown the kid the paychecks he gets for playing professional roarball. Actually, she wouldn't put it past Flo to breeze through explaining his contract details with how quickly he was brought on to the team. Does he know how much he gets paid? A question for another time.
"Hey, that's what the team recovery fund is for."
"The what?"
Yah, it's not hard to miss information in the contracts. Still, it's a pretty important part and it's a bit surprising that no one explained this to him before now.
She explains, "We have a team recovery fund to help pay for injury related costs. It's written into all our contracts."
There's no relief in his face. Just confusion? It's not that confusing of a concept.
"That's not in my contract. Mine says that I'm responsible for my own medical bills."
That's not right. That can't be right.
"Hehe... you're kidding."
"No, I've got the contract memorized."
"Memorized?"
This has to be a joke. It's a terrible joke, but he can't be serious.
He says, completely seriously, "Yah, I just couldn't believe it was real when I signed so I reread it like thirty times in that first day. And I still reread it sometimes. It's only two pages so it's not that bad."
"Two pages."
"Yah." Then Will starts listing off the section titles in his memorized contract. There's too many sections for two pages. There's not enough for a contract. She can't be angry at the kid, he doesn't know any better. Just stay calm, focus on the kid. "...Jett?"
She stands up and smiles. Maybe it's more of a smirk, but close enough.
"Alright, it's getting late. How about this, let's get you some ibuprofen and rest. If you're ankle is still giving you trouble tomorrow, I'm dragging you to a vet by the horns."
Will can tell something's off, he's suspicious. But he doesn't ask. Just grumbles lightly, promising to win in a one-on-one tomorrow.
Jett never claimed to be an actor but she's had enough media training over the years that it's basically the same thing. He has to be wrong. Roarball is dangerous, especially at a professional level. There are professional standards about what is and is not included in a players contract. The minimum requirements can not fit onto two pages. There has to be more. Florence knows this, she does because she signed on Lenny and he complained about the contract signing taking forever. About how long Flo spent going over the details.
Will has to be wrong. She can bring it up to Dennis. They can find the kids full contract. They can walk him through the details. Because there's no way he actually played a full roarball season on a two page contract.
But if he isn't wrong.
If what Will said was true.
Jett won't be doing this alone.
Flo will be finding out just how much Will means to this team.