Invictus

[Captain Canada]

Season II | Chapter X: Love From A Distance

The field didn't look the same when no one else was on it.

No music. No whistles. No crowd noise bleeding in from memory. Just grass, goalposts, and the sun hanging low enough to stretch Cam's shadow long across the fifty-yard line.

He liked it this way.

Cam reset the cones for the third time, wiping sweat from his brow with the bottom of his shirt. His legs burned, lungs tight, calves screaming - but he bent down anyway, lining them up with precise care. Slants. Dig routes. Double moves. Routes he had run a hundred times in games he barely played in.

Junior year had taught him patience the hard way.

He exploded off the line, snapped his hips, cut sharp, eyes up. Imaginary ball. Imaginary coverage. he reached, tucked, turned upfield.

Again.

The summer had been nothing but again. Early mornings. Late nights. Empty fields and stubborn doubt. While everyone else talked about Zane - the offers that were on the horizon, the way his name seemed to float through every conversation - Cam kept working.

He thought the world of Zane. That was the truth. Best friend since before either of them knew what recruiting meant. Before Twitter followers and 7-on-7 camps and rankings.

But love and admiration didn't erase hunger.

Next year, the spotlight would be bright. Zane would be at the center of it. Malik Richards too - the new transfer quarterback with the arm and the mystery. The kind of guy coaches whispered about like he was already proven.

Cam hated to admit it, but he felt invisible beside them. Like they were Gods and he was a mere mortal.

Underrated. Overlooked. The reliable guy. The one who blocked well. The one who practiced hard.

The one who waited.

He dropped into a stance again, knuckles brushing the turf.

"I want more"

He ran the route faster this time, legs pumping, breath tearing from his chest. He imagined a defender draped over him, imagined the ball thrown late, high - just like it would be when it mattered. He leapt, arms stretching, fingers clawing at air.

When he landed, he stayed there for a second, hands on his knees.

"I'm going to play D-1" he muttered to the grass.

The words felt dangerous spoken aloud. Greedy. But, at least it was honest.

He stood up slowly, looking around the empty field. He didn't want Zane's shine, or Malik's mystery.

He wanted his own name called. He wanted to be the guy a defense circled in red.

Cam jogged back to the line, sweat dripping, jaw set.

He worked harder. Again.

***

The late afternoon sun softened Ann Arbor, turning the brick paths gold as Bianca and Katie walked back toward the dorms, spikes dangling from their fingers, sweat cooling on their skin. Practice had been light - preliminary work, easing into rhythms - but it still left that pleasant ache in Bianca's legs that reminded her she was exactly where she was supposed to be.

"I'm just saying," Katie laughed, hopping off the curb, "Sabrina Carpenter is fun. You can't workout to Billie Eilish unless you're trying to feel something."

Bianca shook her head, smiling. "That's because Billie makes you think. Not everything has to be bubblegum."

"False," Katie said. "Bubblegum has its place."

They were still laughing when Bianca's phone buzzed in her hand. The name on the screen made her chest tighten in the softest way.

Zane.

She slowed, answering as Katie fell into step beside her.

"Hey babe." Bianca said, her voice instinctively gentler.

"What's up?" Zane replied. She could hear the field behind him - the faint echo of pads, someone shouting in the distance.

"I'm walking back with my teammate, Katie," she said. "I'll be back at the dorm in like, 10 minutes."

"That's cool," he said. "Just wanted to hear your voice."

She smiled, looking down at the pavement. "I'll call you later tonight, okay?"

"I'll be around."

They hung up quickly - practiced, restrained - but the warmth lingered long after the screen went dark.

Bianca exhaled. "I really hit the relationship jackpot. I miss him already."

Katie glanced over, expression softening. "Already?"

Bianca laughed lightly. "Already."

Katie nodded, understanding flickering behind her bright, blue eyes. "I had a boyfriend all through high school," she said. "Little Denver love and bliss. We were inseparable."

Bianca waited.

"Leaving was horrific," she continued. "Harder than the training, the classes. I knew Michigan was where I was destined to be, but ending it?" She shrugged. "Literal Hell."

Bianca swallowed. "I really hope I don't have to go through that."

Katie looked at her. "No?"

"I'm pretty sure Zane's going to be coming here next year."

Katie responded with a raised eyebrow.

"He's on track," Bianca said, a little more firmly. "He's got all the makings of a top recruit, and he's working nonstop. It just makes sense."

Katie smiled gently. "Sounds like you believe in him."

"More than anything."

They walked in silence for a moment, dorms rising ahead of them.

Bianca's hand tightened around her phone. Her confidence stayed intact - but beneath it, faint and persistent, was a throb of doubt she couldn't quite shake.

Distance had a way of testing even the surest things.

And she wasn't ready to find out how much.

[redsox907]

wonder what happens if Zane decides he doesn't want to follow the poor lil rich girl, doesn't want to be her lap dog eh? Having a new bff that dumped her boyfriend cause of long distance doesn't bold well.

Darius waiting in the shadows like

[Captain Canada]

wonder what happens if Zane decides he doesn't want to follow the poor lil rich girl, doesn't want to be her lap dog eh? Having a new bff that dumped her boyfriend cause of long distance doesn't bold well.

Darius waiting in the shadows like

That American Sun got your interpretation of characters all jacked up, brudda. This ain't no telenovela.

[Caesar]

That American Sun got your interpretation of characters all jacked up, brudda. This ain't no telenovela.

Cam got some potential hate in his heart. We see it already.

Look at Zane and Poor Little Rich Girl being all cute and shit.

[djp73]

I, for one, wish Zane and Bianca a lifetime of happiness.

[Captain Canada]

That American Sun got your interpretation of characters all jacked up, brudda. This ain't no telenovela.

Cam got some potential hate in his heart. We see it already.

Look at Zane and Poor Little Rich Girl being all cute and shit.

I think Poor Little Rich Girl gonna be retired quicker than we think. Cam just wants a seat at the table, that's all.

I, for one, wish Zane and Bianca a lifetime of happiness.

Thank you, kind sir.

[Soapy]

I, for one, wish Zane and Bianca a lifetime of happiness.

[Captain Canada]

Season III | Chapter I - Never Gon Lose

The sky was still half-asleep when Zane pulled the car up close to Cam's house.

Streetlights hummed faintly, their glow fading as the morning tried to decide what it wanted to be. No traffic. No music. Just the quiet that only existed before something big was about to begin.

Zane rested his hands on the steering wheel and let himself breathe.

This was it. Training camp. Upper St. Clair. The start of the season that everything had been building toward.

The summer replayed in fragments - early lifts, empty fields, blistered hands, lungs burning in the dark. Sweat equity. Hours no one saw. Confidence bloomed in his chest, not loud, not reckless - earned.

And still, his grandfather's voice lingered, steady as ever.

"Keep focused. Fall in love with the struggle. The results will follow."

Zane smirked to himself. He had carried those words into every rep.

The front door opened.

Cam stepped out, gym bag slung over his shoulder.

Zane straightened.

Cam looked different. Broader through the chest. Arms thicker. There was a ruggedness to him now - something sharpened by lonely work and quiet frustration. His face held a seriousness that hadn't been there last season where he frequented the sidelines.

Zane felt it immediately.

He put in the work.

Cam jogged over and opened the passenger door. "Morning, brother Zane."

"You ready?" Zane asked.

Cam grinned, sliding in. "Born ready."

They bumped fists - automatic, familiar.

"Man," Zane said, pulling away from the curb. "You look solid."

Cam shrugged, but there was a flash of validation and satisfaction in his eyes. "I ain't had time to waste time, you know?"

Zane nodded, keeping his eyes on the empty road.. They drove in comfortable silence for a moment, the road stretching ahead like a promise.

Zane glanced over once more, pride rising quietly in his chest. Not jealousy. Not even competition.

Respect.

All love between them - but deep down, Zane knew what this meant. They had both paid the price. They were both coming for something.

And when the noise came - crowds, cameras, expectations - he knew this: they had earned the right to meet it head-on.

***

By mid-morning, the field was no longer bright green.

It was darkened in patches, trampled and soaked through, grass flattened under cleats and sweat until it smelled like iron and earth. The air hung thick and unmoving, every breath heavier than the last.

Training camp had found its speed.

Coach Shazier stalked the sideline like metronome set too fast, whistle snapping, voice cutting through the heat.

"We execute our will," he barked. "That's how this season's gonna go. You don't finesse people. You outwork them. You break them by being in better condition. We will brutalize our opponents."

Another sprint.

Another rep.

Another body bent at the waist, hands on knees, lungs screaming.

Zane lined up again, chest heaving - but his legs were still there. Still alive. Hell, thriving. He could feel it. The summer hadn't just prepared him; it had changed him.

Last year's team would've cracked by now.

This one didn't.

He looked around between the reps and saw it everywhere - linemen still firing off the ball, linebackers refusing to jog, receivers pushing through routes even when the ball wasn't coming their way. Everyone had come back different. Leaner. Harder. Hungrier.

They worked.

And still, Zane felt it.

The separation.

His body responded a fraction faster. His cuts were sharper. When he accelerated, it felt violent - like the field was losing the argument every time he took off. He wasn't just winning reps. He was imposing himself.

Better.

He caught sight of Cam lining up across from a corner and felt a surge of pride. Cam wasn't just surviving anymore - he was competing. Fighting through contact. Finishing routes with purpose. He looked like he belonged now.

"Exceptional," Zane thought. "Just like me."

Then Malik dropped back.

Everything shifted.

Malik Richards moved like he had all the time in the world. His strides were long and powerful, shoulders square, eyes calm even as bodies collapsed around him. Sweat streaked down his arms, but his mechanics never wavered.

Dominant.

Every throw came out clean. Sharp. Intentional. No wasted motion. No panic.

Zane hated how obvious it was.

The day dragged on, reps blurring together until fatigue sat heavy in Zane's muscles. By the final period, frustration buzzed under his skin - not because he was struggling, but because he felt too much.

Too driven. Too aware.

When the horn finally sounded, players dropped where they stood. Helmets hit the grass. Groans echoed.

Zane didn't sit.

He walked straight toward Malik. He was wiping his face with his jersey when Zane stopped in front of him.

"You're the quarterback, right?" Zane asked, voice tight.

Malik looked up, unreadable. "Yeah."

"And let's call a spade a spade, I'm your top receiver," Zane continued. "I don't why you don't like me, and honestly, I don't really give a fuck."

A few heads turned, overhearing the exchange.

"We're gonna work together," Zane said. "Or we're going to hash it out right here, right now."

Malik stood, not yielding an inch. "I don't back down from no man, or no work," he said calmly. "If you're about winning, we'll make it work."

They stood there for a moment - two forces colliding without contact.

Then Malik nodded once and turned away.

It should have settled something.

It didn't. It felt like it just pushed it down the line.

Zane watched him walk off, chest still tight, sweat dripping into his eyes.

Something didn't sit right.

Not fear, not doubt.

Just the sense that this season wasn't going to be simple - and that greatness, once shared, always demanded a price.

[Soapy]

made that boy get in the gym yeahhhhhhhhh

[redsox907]

Zane shoulda clocked that fool



maybe Malik was trying to smash Bianca in the past, which would explain why he backed down when she got in his face