Manuel Neuer One-Shots

Parenthood Prep-Talk

     One of the qualities Manuel Neuer bragged the most about himself was his ability to stay cool under pressure.

     It was unusual for him to exalt himself, rare were the occasions in which he was nervous, much less petrified.

     Well.

     Those were the good ol’ days he supposed.

     Because lately, he’d been a time-bomb.

     And Thomas ramblings about how common it was for first time parents -"even with steady hands like yours Manu!" - to drop their child’s by accident into the cold arms of death was not helping.

(At all.)

     “I don’t know why you’re listening to him.” Basti said with a roll of his eyes and a huff, elbowing Manu on the side as they sat on the locker room’s wooden bench “He doesn’t even have a baby.”

     Pompously, Thomas replied, puffing his chest “But I know things. More than you, actually.”

     “Shut up, both of you.” It was Lahm who cut them off, a crease of worry between his eyebrows as his goalkeeper friend seemed now on a pale shade of green “You’re not doing any good.”

     Manu could only nod - yes, they were not doing any good.

(At all.)

     It was strange how the thought of having a child could go from fun tofrightening in seconds.

     “Practicing" had been a blast, obviously, and Chloe’s shaky phone call when she told him the news were most likely one of his most emotional moments, and he didn’t feel ashamed at all when he recalled the blubbering mess he became when she cried "Congratulations, daddy!" whilst he was playing an away match.

     The pregnancy cravings were a bump on the road - he didn’t think it was possible for someone to bake twenty batches of different flavored cookies in 24 hours or crave “pumpkin spice carrot cream cheese cupcakes with watermelon juice”, but eh, that was Chloe -, and setting up the baby room by himself, all tools, sweat and cursing out loud as the hammer hit his fingers still filled him with pride, the light yellow room being his and Chloe’s favorite space in the house now.

     Attending to all of those pregnancy-prep courses and classes had been more enjoyable than he thought - discarding the stares and whispers from all the other dads or Chloe’s grunts of annoyance at all the other mother’s ogling him and his buffy figure - and he did think he was prepped, ready, all set to finally become a father until…

     His phone rang five minutes ago.

     Chloe’s frantic voice on his ear - her water had broke, she was on a cab on her way to the hospital and if he didn’t appear in at least thirty minutes, he’d know the fury of a heavily pregnant lady on his own skin, swear to God, Manuel Peter Neuer, you will regret doing this to me!

     “I think I should go.” He croaked “God. Yes. I should. I have to. I need to be there. I should already be there.” Running his fingers through his hair nervously he now realized how shaky they were, staring down at his hands and looking up until his terrified eyes met his friends, stammering “C-can anyone give me a ride? I -“

     Thomas was the first one to volunteer, giving him a pat on the shoulder that was more like a slap, teasing “Let’s go, daddy.”

     Manu ignored him, receiving all sorts of congratulatory and calming words, not leaving before (and he wasn’t so sure if he’d regret his last sentence) turning back to face the room:

     “Any last minute useful parenthood advices?” His voice was raspy and he’d never had a throat so dry out of nervousness, adding before Müller could speak up “Other than stats of accidentally killed babies?”

    Lahm cleared his throat, shrugging “I will pass out the words that were passed out to me when I was in your position.”

     Everyone stayed silent.

     “Well… The first time you hold it; just think of the baby as a football okay? But erm… Instead of not letting it in, you just don’t let it fall.”

(Manu still couldn’t believe those were the words ringing on his ear when he first awkwardly held his newborn daughter.)

(He’d never tell that to Chloe.)

(Otherwise his newborn daughter would obviously become an orphan.)

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