Become A Football Legend-Chapter 217: Clinical

"Yes," Jane said quickly, forcing a small smile. "Just scrolling."

Roger glanced at her more closely now. "We were asking what you think," he said. "United versus Frankfurt. Do you see us winning?"

Jane hesitated for just a fraction of a second. Her eyes dropped back to her phone, then she locked the screen and set it face down on her lap.

"The first leg?" she said slowly. "Maybe. At Old Trafford, without him, United could get something."

"And over both legs?" Lexi asked.

Jane exhaled softly. "I’m not sure," she admitted. "Frankfurt are... resilient. We’ll see."

The television droned on in the background, highlights rolling, pundits talking tactics and momentum. Lexi leaned back again, already moving on to the next talking point, but Jane stayed still, her thoughts far away, her phone silent on her lap.

Somewhere in Frankfurt, a sixteen-year-old was getting ready for the biggest tie of his life.

And she knew it.

* * *

Monday morning, April 28th, arrived grey and quiet in Klinikum Darmstadt.

Hospitals always had a smell that could not be mistaken for anything else. A mixture of disinfectant, faint coffee from a distant machine, and something sterile that clung to the back of the throat. The corridors were bright but never warm, white lights reflecting off polished tiles that amplified every footstep. Somewhere down the hall, a trolley rattled. A printer hummed. A door clicked shut.

Javi sat in a small consultation office on the third floor, his back straight against the chair, his hands resting on his lap. Or at least, that was where he tried to keep them. His right foot bounced lightly against the tile, again and again, the movement subtle but constant. His index finger tapped a slow, irregular rhythm against his thigh, stopping only when he noticed himself doing it, before starting again a few seconds later.

He had not wanted to be here.

The full-body testing had been Lukas’s idea. No, not an idea, a demand. Weeks of persistence, of reminders, of jokes that slowly turned serious. Lukas had framed it as routine, as smart, as something athletes’ families should do anyway. Javi had resisted at first. He felt fine. He was healthy. He was busy. But Lukas had not let it go. And eventually, reluctantly, Javi had agreed. 𝐟𝕣𝕖𝐞𝐰𝕖𝚋𝐧𝗼𝚟𝐞𝕝.𝗰𝐨𝐦

It had been exhaustive. Blood work. Imaging. Markers he had never heard of. Even a colonoscopy, something he had grumbled about for days afterward. Some of the samples had been sent on to Frankfurt for deeper analysis, Lukas insisting they check everything "just to be safe." When the hospital called back asking him to come in to discuss some findings, Javi had told himself it was probably nothing. A formality. A borderline value. Something they wanted to monitor.

Anne sat beside him now, close enough that their knees almost touched. She watched him from the corner of her eye, seeing the way his jaw tightened every time the hallway outside fell silent, the way his shoulders lifted slightly whenever footsteps approached the door.

Without saying anything, she reached over and placed her hand gently on top of his.

Javi froze for a moment, then exhaled slowly. He turned his hand over and threaded his fingers through hers, pulling her hand fully into his grasp. Anne used her other hand to cover both of his, enclosing them between her palms. Her thumb brushed softly against his knuckles, a small, grounding motion.

"It’s going to be alright," she said quietly, her voice steady and warm. "Whatever it is, we’ll face it together. Head on."

Javi swallowed. He nodded, though his throat felt tight.

"You’re right," he said after a moment. "I don’t feel sick. I really don’t. So there can’t be anything serious."

He lifted her hands together, brought them up toward his face, and pressed a gentle kiss to her fingers. Anne smiled faintly, even as her eyes shimmered, and leaned her forehead briefly against his temple.

A knock came at the door.

They both straightened immediately.

The door opened and Dr. Schneider stepped back into the room, adjusting his glasses as he did. Javi had seen him several times over the past weeks. A calm man, mid-fifties, composed in that distinctly clinical way that doctors often had when they were used to delivering both good and bad news.

"Sorry for the wait," Dr. Schneider said. "Please, sit."

Javi and Anne rose politely, then sat back down as the doctor moved to his desk and turned to the computer. Javi cleared his throat.

"This is Anne," he said. "My fiancée."

Dr. Schneider smiled briefly at her and nodded. "Nice to meet you."

He clicked through a few files, the sound of the mouse loud in the quiet room. The screen reflected faintly in his glasses as he leaned forward.

"Alright," he said, folding his hands together after a moment. "We have the results back from Frankfurt."

Javi felt his stomach drop before the words even came.

"There are findings consistent with very early-stage medullary thyroid carcinoma," Dr. Schneider continued carefully.

For a second, Javi did not register the words. Then they landed all at once.

Cancer.

His chest tightened. His heart seemed to fall straight into his stomach. Anne’s hand clenched around his instantly, her grip firm and protective. Javi squeezed back without even realizing he had done it.

Dr. Schneider did not rush. He waited a beat, allowing them to breathe.

"I want to be very clear," he said. "This was caught extremely early. That makes all the difference. With early detection, the prognosis is excellent. We are talking about a survival rate of over 95%."

Anne let out a breath she had not realized she was holding. Javi nodded slowly, still processing.

"This type of thyroid cancer is not the most common variant," the doctor continued. "The recommended treatment is surgical removal of the entire thyroid gland. After that, we manage hormone replacement. Many patients live completely normal lives afterward."

Javi listened, his mind moving faster than his body. Surgery. Thyroid. Recovery. Anne squeezed his hand again, grounding him.

"There is one more thing," Dr. Schneider added gently. "Medullary thyroid carcinoma is often associated with genetic factors. It does not mean certainty, but it does mean awareness. If you have children in the future, screening is advised."

Javi nodded. "Understood."

The doctor leaned back slightly, his tone softening. "I know who your son is," he said. "He is... something of a local hero these days."

Javi huffed out a breath that might have been a laugh under different circumstances.

"I recommend that Lukas also be tested regularly," Dr. Schneider went on. "Not because I expect anything now. This does not usually manifest at such a young age. But knowledge is power. Early awareness is most of the battle."

He turned back to his desk, picked up a sheet of paper, and scribbled briefly before tearing it off and sliding it across.

"I am referring you to Universitätsklinikum Frankfurt, to the endocrinology department. Dr. Weber will take over from here. His contact details are here. They will guide you through the next steps."

Javi took the paper, his hand steady now. Anne glanced at it too, already in problem-solving mode.

"Thank you," Javi said quietly.

Dr. Schneider nodded. "You did the right thing coming in when you did."

They stood, shook hands, and a few moments later found themselves back in the hallway.

The hospital felt different now. Louder. Brighter. More real.