I need to vent, so I wrote this.

STORYTIME!

Virgil collapsed to his knees, cursing himself out in his head because he doesn't have the breath to say it out loud. The rest of the team was already doing the last sprint but he pHYSICALLY couldn't breathe. Hooray. His asthma was too much, and now he as beginning to panic because he can't do something so basic. Virgil was never the best runner, he was built more for batting and catch. He just couldnt. He stumbled up with his hands on his head, trying to breathe and using all his energy to try and talk at a bearable voice.

"Coach... I can't... breath."

Coach scowled and kicked the dirt, shattering Virgil's heart and lung at the same time. 

"Virgil I can't keep making excuses for you! You have to do what everyone's on the team is doing!  You need to run with your team!"

Virgil staggered over the base to sprint to first, then round to second, third, and home again only to do it once more, making up for what he didn't do while he ever was struggling to breathe. His stomach and legs were in agony and his breaths were sharp and miserable as he barely waddled a run, coach and the entire team "encouraging" him to push through. The entire team would be so better off without him, especially coming back from a broken ankle...

Virgil nearly tripped over the base, stopping immediately from his walking jog to throw his hands over his head and breathe. His inhaler was with his glove and cleats, he needed to get it but he can barely walk the speed of a tortoise. Coach had already called the team out by the time Virgil made it. Virgil turned his head to go get his rings but coach grabbe dhis shoulder and made him face him. He wanted to cry so bad in this moment, but he was too dehydrated. Today is hell.

"Listen, son, maybe this isn't for you. I need you to be a le to keep up. You've been out the entire off season due to your... sprained ankle?  Broken bone? Whatever. You've done eight percent of the work these boys have! I can't make excuses for you. If you need asthma help, bring your puffer, same with your anxiety or whatever. You need to get better, aight champ? See where I'm coming from?"

Virgil just nodded, biting back the tears as coach patted his back and sent him off. He snatched his inhaler as soon as possible and took a double puff, feeling very dizzy and feint. Asthma sucks. Panic attacks suck. He'd run far away from here off his legs weren't pureé jelly. He sat down on the bench with his bat and glove both at his feet. He didn't have a bag other than his catcher's gear today, but he did have his hoodie which had his phone. He texted his significant other.

Virge:// Babe? Can to meet me at the field? I can't move. It hurts. I'm in a panic and I can't breathe.

Dee:// Say no more, I'll come and get you.

Virgil sat back on the dugout bench, trying to focus on his breathing and trying to deal with this overwhelming need to leave right now. Where? Who cares! It's a panic attack baby! He used his albuterol inhaler again, trying his damndest to breathe. A teammate, the pitcher he cstches for on the JV team, noticed he didn't plan on moving any time soon. He sighed and sat down next to him, knowing that he had issues and knowing how much of a hardass the coach is.

"Don't listen to him. He doesn't understand that people have it harder than others and have to try harder than others. He just has his perfect vision for everyone, it wasn't like this last year. You're fine. Need anything?"

"No... thank you. I'm just gonna wait here for someone to pick me up and leave everything in my locker, I don't think I can manage going to get it."

The pitcher nodded and began to slowly jog back to the locker room. Virgil kept on focusing on breathing until his phone vibrated. He didn't bother to check it, that means Dee brought his truck to the parking lot near the fields and was walking up to come and get him. Virgil sat up, eagerly watching the doorway to the dugout as his enbyfriend walked through, sighing when he saw the overly sweaty and sunburn-faced Virgil. Before Dee could do anything: make a joke or tease him, Virgil breathed out two words.

"I can't."

The moment paused, time seemed to stop as it dawned on Virgil. He physically cannot do this. He will injure himself again one way or another and this sport is destroying what was left of his fragile mental health. Dee, concerned, walked in front of him and took his hands in his own. Yeah, he can't do this. He'll disappoint his parents, but he physically cannot due this. He wasn't meant to be an athlete. He didn't want to be an athlete. He just was... here.

"I can't do it, Dee. I can't do this anymore. I'm just vying for Christmas and I'm so ready to just not be here. I don't... wanna play baseball. I can't play baseball. I don't wanna be here..."

Wow that felt great to say off his chest. Dee sighed, running their hand through Virgil's wet stanky purple-dyed mop hair. Virgil stuck out his arms, wanting to be carried. He is a short kinda chubby boi. Dee could carry him easily. Dee shook their head and took both the bat and glove. Virgil used his arms to push himself into a standing position. He fell forward into his lover, who caught him without being told to.

"You were never told you had to be a baseball player, Virgil. If you can't do it you can't do it. If the coach wants to force you to keep playing then he can deal with me and  our entire squad. We'll unleash the Roman and Remus beasts on him if we need to."

"Heh, Roman would give him a monologue on why he's a terrible coach and pin him back while Remus kicks his dick in and gives him redneck sex reassignment surgery."

Dee snickered at the trans joke. Redneck sex reassignment surgery? Their precious Virgil has been hanging around Remus far too long. Dee told Virgil one minute so they could go put his stuff in his truck. Dee hustled to their truck, throwing it all in the back seat. As the year locked the their card again they noticed the Head baseball coach walking up to and unlocking his own red sports car. Dee gritted their teeth. He was pushing Virgil far too hard. Maybe he can scare him a little bit. Let's see, Roman taugh Dee to be quite the actor. Let's see how believable they can truly be~

"Coach, might I have a word?"

"Yeah, what is it kid?"

"Kid? Oh I'm no kid. I work for the district. I had witnessed your boys pratcicing earlier today and I noticed how horribly hard you've been pushing them. They've just had lunch before this period, no? That's one health violation. The fact that a kid vomited on the field and was told to keep going the day before yesterday is also a health violation of the district's new code. There is also a district-required thirty minute study hall in each athletic ninety minute class. I wonder what my supervisor would say if he saw you neglecting the health and grades of your players?"

Dee didn't stay to see his jaw hit the concrete, they just smirked and walked to the dugout to carry their sweaty, miserable, highkey emo boyfriend that he's totally not taking the to the MCR concert in LA. Virgil's breathing seemed to be more stable when they arrived. What a relief. Virgil slowly lifted his head and let out a soft exhale before stretching his arms again. Dee smiled warmly at him, kneeling before him backwards to piggyback him to the truck the way he likes to. Virgil's arms and legs wrapped around the NonBinary slimy boi (boi is a meme it's genderless) and Dee stood up, making sure their precious one didn't slip. His eyelids were droopy, how cute~

"You don't have to do anything you don't want to, okay Virge? Let's go home, I'll drive you to your Mom's house."

"Noooo, Dad's."

"Okay, to your dad's house."

Virgil was slipping out of consciousness, even though he was starting to get cold in his wet athletics clothes. His eyelids were droopy and he really didn't want to go to Mom's house for the sole reason that she was going to be having dinner with her girlfriend tonight. She was nice, but Virgil didn't feel like socializing. Dad wouldn't be home until after bedtime, meaning Dee could stay with him and they could have a cool spooky movies night and M&Ms. it's actually trailmiz but if you don't just eat the M&Ms you sit on a throne of lies.

Sometimes it's okay if you just can't. There's things you can't just do. Like baseball for Virgil. He's not meant for baseball. He can focus on other things like Forensic Science Which is actually really heccin cool. Virgil fell asleep. He didn't feel Dee easily setting him in the front seat and giving him the air conditioner and forcing him to drink some water and driving all the way to his Dad's house. He slept. He just can't, and that's okay.

1600 Words

Highschool softball is so challenging. I just got off a torn ligament and Coach is running me so hard. I don't think she understands that inhalers don't automatically fix asthma issues. It takes time off. You don't get time off. I can't do Highschool softball. Imma go back to red ball after I don't make tryouts.

Like I said in the story: it's okay if you just can't. Not everyone is meant for everything. It's okay if you need a break or need to quit something. Your mental health is the most important thing.

Internet hugs and blow kisses!

~Rem🧡