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(A/N: Don't forget to give those power stones to Skyrim everyone!)
...
Reporters shouted final congratulations while the trio stood from the table, and they walked back toward the corridor again.
The way back to London the night before had felt strangely quiet after all the noise of the Etihad.
Not unhappy quiet.
Drained quiet.
The kind that settled over teams after emotionally massive victories when adrenaline finally stopped carrying everyone forward.
Even Walker eventually ran out of energy somewhere along the motorway back from Manchester, which honestly might have shocked modern science.
By the time Arsenal's players dispersed later that night and Francesco finally returned to Richmond, London already slept beneath cold rain and empty streets.
He barely remembered falling into bed beside Leah.
Only the feeling of exhaustion crashing fully into him the second his head touched the pillow.
And for the first time in weeks, he slept deeply.
No replaying mistakes.
No tactical thoughts.
No lingering frustration.
Just sleep.
The next morning arrived quieter.
Softer.
Thin winter sunlight filtered through the tall windows of the Richmond mansion while the city outside slowly woke beneath pale grey skies. Rain from the previous night still clung to the garden grass, leaving everything damp and cold beyond the glass.
Francesco woke slowly beneath warm blankets with heavy legs reminding him immediately what ninety brutal minutes at the Etihad actually cost physically.
His calves still ached.
His shoulders felt tight.
And somewhere deep in his lungs he could still almost feel the freezing Manchester air from the match.
Beside him Leah shifted slightly before opening one eye.
"You alive?"
"Debatable."
"That bad?"
"I think De Bruyne ran through my organs."
Leah laughed softly into the pillow.
"That usually means you won."
"True."
Cheddar solved the morning atmosphere immediately by launching himself onto the bed approximately four seconds later with the emotional stability of a caffeinated hurricane.
The dog barked loudly before stepping directly onto Francesco's stomach.
Francesco groaned.
"That's attempted murder."
Cheddar wagged his tail proudly anyway.
Leah scratched behind the dog's ears while smiling.
"He watched your goals again this morning."
"He understands football."
"He barked at the television every time Alexis appeared."
"…he understands chaos."
Reasonable conclusion honestly.
The morning passed slowly after that.
No rush.
No training until later recovery sessions.
No immediate pressure.
Just rare breathing space.
Francesco spent most of breakfast half-awake while Leah scrolled through reactions to the match on her phone across from him at the kitchen island.
"You're everywhere again," she observed.
"That sounds threatening."
"Sky Sports. BBC. Every football account alive." She smirked slightly afterward. "One headline literally says 'Captain Francesco Stuns City.'"
"Dramatic."
"You scored an eighty-ninth minute winner at the Etihad."
"Still dramatic."
Cheddar wandered around the kitchen carrying a tennis ball almost larger than his brain while football coverage replayed endlessly across the television mounted nearby.
Every channel showed the same clips.
The first goal curling into the top corner.
The counterattack.
The pendulum around Ederson.
The finish.
Then celebration chaos afterward.
Again.
And again.
And again.
Francesco honestly still hadn't fully processed it.
Big football moments always felt strange afterward because everyone else experienced them more slowly than the players involved. Supporters replayed them all day. Analysts dissected every movement. Television slowed everything into cinematic perfection.
Meanwhile for the actual players?
The moment itself lasted maybe three seconds emotionally.
Then disappeared into adrenaline.
After breakfast Leah convinced him to actually leave football behind for a few hours and go outside.
Which really meant Cheddar convinced them both.
The dog practically exploded with happiness the second the back doors opened toward the yard.
Cold afternoon air rushed across the property while weak sunlight pushed through drifting clouds overhead. The grass still carried traces of rainwater from the night before, but Cheddar clearly considered mud a personal spiritual experience.
Francesco stood near the edge of the lawn wearing a grey Arsenal training hoodie while Leah threw the tennis ball across the yard.
Cheddar sprinted after it like his life depended on retrieval.
"He's faster than some defenders," Leah observed.
"He presses emotionally."
Leah immediately pointed at him accusingly.
"No."
Francesco burst out laughing.
"It's spreading."
"I refuse to let Walker infect this household."
Too late honestly.
Cheddar returned proudly with the ball before immediately refusing to release it.
Standard behavior.
Leah crouched down trying to negotiate.
"Drop it."
Cheddar wagged his tail.
"No."
"Please."
Still no.
Francesco folded his arms watching.
"He's learning possession football."
"He's learning stubbornness."
"Same thing sometimes."
The afternoon settled into something peaceful after that.
The kind of calm elite athletes rarely experienced during heavy seasons.
No cameras.
No stadium noise.
No tactical boards.
Just cold air, quiet conversation, and a dog emotionally committed to chaos.
At one point Leah leaned lightly against Francesco's shoulder while watching Cheddar sprint circles through the wet grass for absolutely no reason.
"You seem lighter today."
Francesco glanced sideways.
"Lighter?"
"Mentally."
He thought about it honestly.
Maybe she was right.
The Watford defeat had lingered longer than he admitted publicly. Not because of the unbeaten run ending.
Because of how Arsenal lost emotional control during parts of that match.
But City felt different.
More complete somehow.
Not perfection.
Growth.
And deep down he knew Wenger felt it too.
Eventually the cold became too much even for them.
Cheddar, however, still looked capable of running until sunrise.
Leah finally pointed toward the house.
"Inside before he emotionally freezes himself."
Francesco laughed again.
"There it is."
"I hate that I said it."
"Too late."
Later that afternoon, after recovery stretching and a painfully cold ice bath that felt specifically designed by cruel people, Francesco headed outside again toward the mansion's swimming pool.
The water steamed lightly beneath the cold December air while pale sunlight reflected softly across the surface.
Swimming always helped after brutal matches.
Less impact.
Less pressure on exhausted joints.
Just movement.
He slid slowly into the water and immediately felt tension release from muscles that still carried the weight of ninety intense minutes against City.
The world became quieter underwater.
Muted.
Peaceful.
No crowd noise.
No media.
No tactical conversations.
Just breathing.
Lap after lap.
Slow recovery.
At one point he floated on his back staring upward toward the grey sky above Richmond while fragments of the previous night replayed through his head again.
Özil's pass.
The roar.
The away supporters.
Wenger afterward.
Big matches stayed with you.
Especially when they mattered emotionally.
When he eventually returned inside afterward, hair still damp from the pool, the smell of lunch already drifted through the kitchen.
Leah stood near the counter preparing food while Sky Sports continued running coverage of Arsenal's victory across the television.
Of course they were.
Football never stopped.
A graphic stretched across the screen:
ARE ARSENAL TITLE FAVORITES AGAIN?
Leah glanced toward it dramatically.
"They waited less than twenty-four hours."
"Football media survives through overreaction."
"Apparently."
Francesco sat down near the television with a plate balanced on one knee while analysts continued dissecting the match endlessly.
Gary Neville stood in front of a touchscreen replaying Arsenal's winning counterattack.
Again.
Neville pointed toward the screen.
"Look at Arsenal's composure here. City lose structure emotionally trying to force the winner, and Arsenal punish them perfectly."
Leah pointed immediately.
"There's the word."
"Everyone's infected now."
The replay slowed.
Özil receiving possession.
Alexis driving forward.
Cazorla connecting play.
Then the final pass.
Neville shook his head admiringly.
"This is world-class timing from both players."
The screen froze on Francesco's run between Stones and Otamendi.
"Otamendi reacts half a second late because Francesco delays the movement just enough."
Roy Keane sat beside him looking unusually thoughtful.
"He also stays calm once he's through. Most players panic there."
The replay showed the pendulum around Ederson again.
Keane nodded once.
"That's confidence."
Leah smirked sideways toward Francesco.
"You hid the panic well apparently."
"There was tremendous panic."
"I assumed."
Another analyst highlighted Kanté's performance afterward.
Interceptions.
Recoveries.
Endless running.
The usual impossible statistics followed.
"How does one human recover this much ground?" Carragher asked genuinely confused.
"Emotionally teleporting," Francesco muttered absentmindedly before realizing what he said.
Leah nearly dropped her fork laughing.
"No. Absolutely not."
"I hate Walker."
"You've become him."
Terrifying possibility honestly.
The afternoon drifted by slowly after lunch.
Football coverage faded into background noise eventually while outside the daylight slowly disappeared beneath another cold London evening.
By nighttime the mansion felt peaceful again.
Warm lights.
Quiet rooms.
Rain tapping lightly against windows once more.
The kind of calm that made professional football feel very far away for a few hours.
Francesco and Leah eventually headed upstairs later than planned after getting distracted by another terrible reality show neither of them even liked that much.
Cheddar followed behind carrying the same tennis ball from earlier like a treasured family heirloom.
The bedroom lights dimmed softly while rain continued outside.
Leah curled beneath the blankets first while Francesco checked his phone briefly one last time.
Messages everywhere.
Teammates.
Family.
Old academy coaches.
Even Thierry Henry had sent congratulations.
That one still felt surreal honestly.
Eventually he set the phone aside and settled into bed beside Leah.
"Tired?" she asked quietly.
"Very."
"Good week though."
Francesco exhaled softly into the darkness.
"Yes."
Then after a second:
"Very good week."
The room settled afterward.
Rain outside.
Distant city noise far away beyond the property.
Cheddar already asleep near the bedroom doorway.
Everything calm.
Everything quiet.
Until suddenly, CRASH.
Glass shattered somewhere downstairs.
The sound exploded through the mansion violently enough to jolt both of them awake instantly.
Francesco sat upright immediately.
Every muscle alert.
Another noise followed.
Heavy movement downstairs.
Leah's voice came sharp with confusion and fear.
"What was that?"
Before Francesco could answer, Cheddar erupted barking downstairs.
Not playful barking.
Aggressive barking.
Warning barking.
Then came voices.
Male voices.
Muffled.
Downstairs.
Francesco's entire body went cold immediately.
Someone was inside the house.
Leah grabbed his arm hard.
"Francesco—"
"Stay here."
His voice came calm automatically despite the adrenaline slamming through his chest already.
"Call the police."
"What are you doing?"
"I'm checking downstairs."
"Don't go alone."
"I need to see what's happening first."
Another crash echoed faintly below them.
Cheddar barked furiously again.
Francesco moved quickly toward the bedroom corner where an old wooden baseball bat leaned near the wall beside a storage cabinet.
Mostly decorative.
Until now.
He gripped it tightly while listening carefully.
More voices downstairs.
Two men.
Definitely two.
Leah already reached for her phone with shaking hands.
"I'm calling now."
Francesco nodded once.
"Lock the door behind me."
Her expression looked terrified now.
"Be careful."
"I will."
The hallway outside the bedroom felt unnaturally dark as Francesco stepped into it gripping the bat tightly.
Every sound suddenly felt amplified.
The creak of floorboards beneath his feet.
Cheddar barking downstairs.
Movement.
Voices.
His heartbeat.
The mansion that normally felt warm and comfortable now felt unfamiliar somehow.
Threatening.
Francesco moved slowly toward the staircase keeping his breathing controlled while adrenaline surged violently through him.
Halfway down the stairs he finally heard them clearly.
Male voices.
One frustrated.
One nervous.
"Grab that."
"Hurry up."
"Where's the bag?"
Cheddar barked wildly again somewhere near the living room.
Then a man cursed loudly.
Francesco crouched slightly near the bottom of the staircase and carefully peeked around the corner toward the open downstairs area.
And saw them.
Two men dressed in dark hoodies moving through the living room beneath dim lighting and broken glass scattered across the floor near one of the smashed rear windows.
One of them stood near the television trying to disconnect cables aggressively.
The other searched through drawers and shelves nearby looking for valuables.
Cheddar stood several feet away barking furiously at them with every strand of fur raised defensively.
The dog looked small compared to the intruders.
But fearless.
One of the men kicked toward him angrily.
"Get this dog away from me!"
Cheddar barked even harder.
Francesco's grip tightened around the baseball bat instantly.
Cheddar barked again.
Loud.
Furious.
Protective.
The sound echoed through the downstairs living area while broken glass glittered faintly across the floor beneath dim kitchen lights.
One of the intruders cursed angrily at the dog again and stepped toward him with another threatening movement.
That was enough.
Francesco moved.
Fast.
Years of elite football had trained his body to react instantly under pressure, and adrenaline sharpened everything now into terrifying clarity. His grip tightened around the baseball bat as he came down the final steps almost silently.
The first intruder, the one near the television still had his back turned.
Still pulling cables.
Still unaware.
Francesco closed the distance in seconds.
Then swung.
The wooden bat cracked hard against the man's side and shoulder with a sickening thud.
The intruder screamed immediately and collapsed sideways into the entertainment cabinet, smashing into it before crashing heavily onto the floor.
The television tipped violently.
Cheddar barked even louder.
The second man spun around instantly.
"What the—"
His eyes widened beneath the hood the second he recognized someone standing there holding a bat.
Not security.
Not police.
Francesco.
For half a second the entire room froze.
Rain outside.
Broken glass everywhere.
One intruder groaning on the floor clutching his shoulder.
The other staring in shock.
Then the second man reacted violently, reaching into his jacket pocket.
And pulled out a knife.
Everything inside Francesco's chest tightened instantly.
The blade flashed beneath the kitchen light while the intruder stepped forward aggressively.
"You stupid—"
Francesco didn't let him finish.
He swung again immediately.
The intruder barely managed to raise his arm in time before the bat slammed hard against it. The knife clattered sideways across the wooden floor.
The man shouted in pain.
Francesco hit him again.
This time across the ribs.
Hard.
The intruder stumbled backward into the kitchen island gasping while knocking plates and glasses onto the floor around him.
Cheddar lunged forward barking furiously.
"Cheddar! Back!"
The dog hesitated but obeyed enough to stay behind Francesco while still growling viciously.
The intruder tried recovering.
Tried reaching for the fallen knife again.
Francesco stepped forward and struck him once more across the shoulder before shoving him backward hard enough that he collapsed heavily against the cabinets.
The first intruder still writhed on the floor groaning in pain near the television.
The second looked completely disoriented now, clutching his side while breathing hard.
Francesco stood between them and the staircase gripping the baseball bat tightly with both hands, adrenaline roaring through his bloodstream so violently he could barely hear his own heartbeat anymore.
"Don't move," he warned.
His voice sounded colder than normal.
Sharper.
The second intruder cursed weakly while trying to sit up properly.
Then suddenly, sirens.
Distant at first.
But getting closer quickly.
Police.
The sound cut through the tension instantly.
Both intruders visibly panicked hearing it.
"No no no—"
"We need to go—"
Neither man could even stand properly anymore.
One clutching his shoulder and ribs.
The other still sprawled near the broken television cables groaning in pain.
Francesco didn't move.
Didn't lower the bat.
Cheddar kept barking beside him nonstop while rain and sirens filled the night outside.
Then upstairs.
"Francesco?!"
Leah's voice.
Terrified.
"I'm okay!" he shouted back immediately without taking his eyes off the intruders. "Stay upstairs!"
The police sirens became deafening now.
Blue lights suddenly flashed through the broken rear window across the wet backyard.
Doors slammed outside.
Voices.
"Police!"
"Inside!"
The intruders looked finished emotionally the second they heard boots approaching the property.
One of them actually tried crawling weakly toward the back window before giving up halfway.
Then the front door burst open.
Armed police officers flooded into the mansion almost instantly.
"DROP THE WEAPON!"
Francesco reacted immediately, lowering the baseball bat and stepping backward with both hands visible.
"Homeowner!" he shouted quickly. "They broke in!"
Police moved past him fast and professionally.
Within seconds both intruders were pinned face-down against the floor while officers secured the knife and began shouting commands over each other.
"Hands behind your back!"
"Do not move!"
One intruder groaned loudly in pain.
The other swore repeatedly while being restrained.
Cheddar still barked furiously until one officer finally looked toward Francesco.
"Can you secure the dog, sir?"
"Yeah."
Francesco crouched quickly beside Cheddar, gripping the dog gently by the collar while the animal still growled protectively toward the intruders.
"It's okay," Francesco murmured quietly. "It's okay."
The adrenaline finally started hitting differently now.
Shaking.
His hands suddenly felt unsteady around the bat and Cheddar's collar.
Reality catching up.
Police officers continued moving through the mansion clearing rooms carefully while others dragged the intruders upright toward the hallway.
One of the men glared toward Francesco angrily through bloodied lips.
"You're crazy—"
"You broke into my house," Francesco replied coldly.
The officer beside the intruder tightened his grip immediately.
"Keep walking."
Upstairs footsteps came quickly a moment later.
Leah.
Francesco turned instantly the second he saw her near the staircase wearing an oversized sweatshirt and looking terrified.
The moment she realized he was unharmed, she rushed toward him immediately.
"Oh my God."
She threw both arms around him hard enough to nearly knock the breath from his chest.
Francesco wrapped his arms around her instantly.
"It's okay," he whispered.
But honestly?
His own heart still hammered violently against his ribs.
Leah pulled back slightly looking him over frantically.
"Are you hurt?"
"No."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes."
She glanced toward the police dragging the intruders through the hallway and visibly trembled seeing the knife being carried in an evidence bag.
Cheddar pressed against both of their legs whining softly now that the danger had passed.
One of the officers approached carefully afterward.
"You two alright?"
Francesco nodded first.
"Yes."
Leah answered quieter.
"I think so."
The officer looked around at the shattered glass and overturned furniture before exhaling slowly.
"Ambulance is checking the suspects outside now. We'll need statements from both of you once you're ready."
Francesco nodded again automatically.
Professional athlete instincts almost kicked in weirdly even now as he answer calmly, stay composed, control emotions.
But inside?
Adrenaline still tore through him violently.
Another officer suddenly approached from the front entrance carrying a notepad.
Then visibly paused.
Recognition.
His eyes widened slightly.
"Wait…"
He looked closer at Francesco.
"You're Francesco Lee."
Not really a question.
The Arsenal captain standing barefoot in sweatpants holding a baseball bat inside a destroyed living room was apparently not how the officer expected to meet him.
Francesco looked exhausted suddenly.
"Yes."
The officer blinked once before glancing toward another policeman nearby.
"That's the Arsenal striker."
Another officer looked over immediately too.
"The one from yesterday?"
Leah almost laughed despite herself hearing that.
Francesco rubbed one hand across his face tiredly.
"Yes."
The officer shook his head slightly in disbelief.
"Hell of a twenty-four hours."
Reasonable observation honestly.
Outside, flashing blue lights painted the wet driveway while officers moved around the property securing the scene. Neighbors' lights had begun turning on nearby too after the noise and sirens shattered the quiet Richmond night.
The mansion no longer felt peaceful now.
Broken glass littered the floor near the smashed rear window.
Furniture had shifted during the struggle.
One of the dining chairs lay overturned beside the kitchen island.
Everything looked wrong somehow.
Violated.
Leah stayed close beside Francesco while police continued documenting the scene.
At one point an older officer approached holding a small evidence bag containing the knife.
"You did the right thing protecting yourselves," he said carefully. "But next time, if possible, avoid direct confrontation."
Francesco nodded quietly.
"I know."
And he did know.
Objectively.
But hearing someone downstairs threatening Cheddar and moving through his house while Leah hid upstairs?
Rational thought disappeared quickly in moments like that.
The officer studied him briefly.
"You played against City yesterday, didn't you?"
Francesco blinked once at the sudden topic change.
"…yes."
"Hell of a goal."
Leah finally laughed softly this time despite everything.
The officer shrugged slightly apologetically.
"Sorry. My son's obsessed with football."
"Fair enough."
Another policeman soon guided the intruders outside toward separate vehicles.
One of them still limped badly from the hits with the baseball bat while paramedics checked his arm near the ambulance.
The other avoided looking at Francesco entirely now.
Cheddar barked once more from inside the doorway like a final insult.
"Honestly," one younger officer muttered quietly while watching the dog, "that little guy deserves a medal too."
"Emotionally," Francesco replied automatically without thinking.
The officer blinked.
Then unexpectedly laughed.
"Fair enough."
Leah stared at Francesco slowly.
"No."
"I didn't mean to."
"You're infected permanently."
Probably true.
Eventually statements began properly.
An officer sat with Francesco at the kitchen table, which one of the few areas not partially destroyed while another spoke separately with Leah nearby.
The officer clicked his pen.
"Alright. Start from when you first heard the noise."
Francesco leaned back slowly in the chair, exhaustion finally crushing down properly now that the danger had passed.
"It was around midnight," he began quietly. "We were asleep upstairs when we heard glass breaking…"
As he explained everything step by step, fragments replayed again inside his head.
Cheddar barking.
The knife.
The sound of the bat connecting.
Police sirens.
Leah's face afterward.
The emotional shift from football heroics beneath floodlights to protecting your home with a baseball bat in less than a day felt surreal honestly.
The officer listened carefully throughout before eventually setting the pen down.
"You handled yourself well under pressure."
Francesco exhaled tiredly.
"I didn't really think."
"Sometimes that helps."
Leah rejoined him moments later after finishing her own statement before sitting quietly beside him at the table.
She looked emotionally drained now.
Paler than usual.
Francesco reached over instinctively taking her hand gently.
"You okay?"
She nodded once.
"Now I am."
The officer stood afterward gathering paperwork.
"We'll have patrols around the area tonight and tomorrow while forensics finishes up. Someone from the station will contact you later regarding formal charges and follow-up statements."
"Alright."
Then the officer hesitated briefly.
"…and for what it's worth, congratulations on the win yesterday."
Francesco stared at him for a second before laughing softly under his breath from pure exhaustion.
"Thank you."
The officer smiled faintly before leaving.
Hours later, after the last police cars finally disappeared and the mansion settled back into uneasy silence, the damage somehow looked even worse.
Broken glass remained taped off near the rear window.
Cold night air still drifted faintly inside.
The house no longer felt entirely safe.
Cheddar refused to leave Francesco's side even briefly now, following him room to room with unusually protective behavior.
Leah stood quietly near the living room staring at the mess while wrapping both arms around herself.
Francesco moved beside her slowly.
"We'll fix it."
"I know."
She leaned lightly against him afterward.
For a while neither of them spoke.
Outside, Richmond slept quietly again beneath cold winter rain.
But inside the mansion, adrenaline still lingered in the walls long after the intruders were gone.
______________________________________________
Name : Francesco Lee
Age : 18 (2016)
Birthplace : London, England
Football Club : Arsenal First Team
Championship History : 2014/2015 Premier League, 2014/2015 FA Cup, 2015/2016 Community Shield, 2016/2017 Premier League, 2015/2016 Champions League, Euro 2016, Premier League Champion 2016/2017, and 2016/2017 Champions League.
Season 17/18 stats:
Arsenal:
Match: 20
Goal: 25
Assist: 1
MOTM:3
POTM: 0
England:
Match: 2
Goal: 2
Assist: 0
MOTM: 0
Season 16/17 stats:
Arsenal:
Match: 55
Goal: 87
Assist: 5
MOTM: 14
POTM: 1
England:
Match: 1
Goal: 1
Assist: 0
MOTM: 0
Season 15/16 stats:
Arsenal:
Match Played: 60
Goal: 82
Assist: 10
MOTM: 9
POTM: 1
England:
Match Played: 2
Goal: 4
Assist: 0
Euro 2016
Match Played: 6
Goal: 13
Assist: 4
MOTM: 6
Season 14/15 stats:
Match Played: 35
Goal: 45
Assist: 12
MOTM: 9