Invictus

[Captain Canada]

Season V | Chapter VII - Nothing To Me

Zane had been sitting in his living room, a beer gripped tightly in his hand, both knees wrapped in melting ice packs that had long since soaked through the fabric of his sweats. The room was dim, lit mostly by the flickering glow of the television, where highlights from around the country rolled on repeat.

He hadn’t really been watching. They had just been lambasted by USC on their own field.

Disappointing didn’t even begin to cover it. It had felt like they were playing a completely different game. From the opening snap, the Trojans had dominated the line of scrimmage. Ajani had struggled all night, barely given the time to breathe, let alone operate the offense. And when the quarterback struggled, everything else crumbled with it.

Zane had felt it firsthand.

If he wasn’t getting the ball, the offense wasn’t moving. That truth had hung heavy over him all game, turning every route into pressure, every missed opportunity into something louder than it should have been. He had been hit, jammed, thrown off rhythm - batted around like he didn’t belong out there.

He had finally scored late in the fourth quarter, slipping into the end zone when the game had already been decided.

It hadn’t meant anything. Stat padding. A hollow touchdown in a game that had already been lost.

Now, sitting in the quiet of his condo, he felt every bit of it. The soreness. The fatigue. The frustration. It all settled into his bones.

A knock at the door broke through the silence.

Zane groaned softly, peeling himself out from under the ice packs. His knees protested immediately as he stood, stiff and aching. He dragged himself toward the door, one slow step at a time, before pulling it open.

Johntay stood there, a 12-pack of beer tucked under his arm, looking far less bothered than he probably should have been.

He raised an eyebrow. “Why you in this big ass bitch stewing alone?”

Zane shrugged, stepping aside to let him in. “Didn’t really feel like being around people.”

Johntay walked in like he owned the place, setting the beer down on the counter before kicking the door shut behind him.

Zane moved back toward the couch, easing himself down with a quiet exhale. “I’ve never really been the ‘win or lose, we booze’ type,” he muttered. “Losing should feel bad.”

Johntay nodded, grabbing two beers and tossing one toward him. “I agree,” he said, popping his open. “But sitting in it too long? That ain’t the answer either.”

They settled into the couch, the sounds of ESPN filling the space between them. A highlight from another game flashed across the screen - some team celebrating, some crowd roaring.

It felt distant.

After a moment, johntay spoke again, his tone more measured.

“I know you going through it,” he said. “With the breakup and all.”

Zane side-eyed him, browning furrowing. “I’ve really been that obvious?”

Johntay shrugged, taking a sip. “It is if you looking for it.”

That sat there for a second. Heavily. Zane leaned back into the couch, staring at the screen without really seeing it.

Another pause. Then Johntay spoke again, quieter this time.

“She was probably right to end it.”

Zane’s head snapped toward him, eyes narrowing. “Why would you say that?”

Johntay met his gaze evenly. “Because I’m you vet,” he said simply. “I’m supposed to look out for you.”

Zane didn’t respond right away.

Johntay continued, gesturing lightly with his beer. “From what little I know, you been unsure for a minute. Way before you even got here. That ain’t fair to her. And it damn sure ain’t far to you.”

Zane exhaled slowly, the fight draining out of him as quickly as it had come.

“I know,” he admitted. “I know it’s true.”

He rubbed his face with his free hand, eyes closing briefly. “Doesn’t mean I want it to be over.”

Johntay cracked another beer, the sound sharp in the quiet room. “Don’t gotta be over forever,” he said. “But maybe you need to get out of your own head for a bit. See what this -” he gestured vaguely around them, “-actually got to offer you.”

Zane sat with that. The campus. The team. The life he had just stepped into. All of it still felt distant. Like he hadn’t fully arrived yet.

He looked down at his empty bottle, then reached forward and grabbed another beer, cracking it open without a word.

“I hear you,” he said finally.

A small pause.

“Just not tonight.”

Johntasy nodded, like that was a perfectly acceptable answer.

“Yeah,” he said, settling back into the couch. “Not tonight.”

The two of them sat there in silence after that, the television continuing to play in the background, the noise filling the room while neither of them really paid attention.

***

Bianca had been seated at a cocktail bar with Katie, the music booming loud enough that it settled into her chest like a second heartbeat. The lighting was low, neon hues washing over the room in pulses of pink and blue, glasses clinking and laughter rising above the bass in uneven waves.

Katie had finally managed to drag her out of her dorm, and for the first time in a while, Bianca had to admit - she had been having a good time.

She had been trying. Really trying.

She reminded herself that she owed it to herself to actually enjoy college. To not spend every night sitting in her room, staring at her phone, waiting for something that might not come. She had loved Zane more than anything - she still did - but somewhere along the way, she had started losing pieces of herself in that live.

And she didn’t want that anymore.

She deserved love too. Attention. Yearning.

She understood that Zane had been dealing with a lot - more than most people their age ever had to - but that didn’t mean her own happiness had to be put on hold indefinitely.

Still, there was an itch in the back of her mind. A presence she couldn’t quite shake.

Him. Zane.

She physically shook her head, like she could dislodge the thought, forcing herself back into the moment.

Across from her, Katie had been mid-rant, animated as ever, talking with her hands about where they should go next - some party, another bar, somewhere louder and more chaotic.

Bianca had been half-listening when her phone lit up against the dark table, the brightness cutting through the dim lighting enough for both of them to notice.

Katie’s eyes dropped immediately. Then widened. A slow grin spread across her face as she looked back up at Bianca.

Bianca frowned slightly. “What is that look for?”

Katie didn’t even hesitate. “What’s that saying? The best way to get over a man is to get right underneath another one.”

Bianca scoffed, shaking her head. “Some random dick is the last thing I want.”

Katie leaned forward, eyes still dancing with mischief. “But, it might be the first thing you need, baby girl.”

Bianca rolled her eyes. “God forbid a man and a woman go and get coffee once or twice without being foretold they’re going to start fucking.”

Katie blinked at her, processing that, then leaned back in her chair like she had just been told breaking news.

“Does Zane know?” she asked, eyebrows raised.

Bianca shook her head. “No.”

She glanced down at her drink, swirling it absentmindedly. “He texted me this morning.”

Katie’s expression shifted slightly. “First time since everything happened?”

Bianca nodded. She didn’t say how it had felt. Didn’t say how the simple notification had made her chest loosen in a way she hadn’t realized had been tight. Or admit how scared she had been that he now hated her, or worse, that he had moved on without a second thought.

Katie, of course, didn’t need all the details to form an opinion.

A grin crept back onto her face. “Bianca Underwood,” she said, testing it out “That’s kinda lit, i’m not gonna lie.”

Bianca let out a dry, sarcastic laugh. “You’re ridiculous.”

Katie shrugged, completely unbothered. “I’m just saying. You clearly have a type.”

Bianca narrowed her eyes. “Don’t.”

Katie smirked. “Tall. Athletic. Black”

Bianca rolled her eyes hard enough to cut her off. “Okay, take it easy.”

Katie held her hands up in surrender, still smiling. “Alright, alright.”

A beat passed then Katie tilted her head, studying her.

“But seriously,” she said, tone shifting just enough to sound genuine. “You really gonna sit here and act like Bryce Underwood isn’t sexy?”

Bianca paused. Just for a second.

Then she shrugged, deliberately nonchalant, lifting her drink to her lips. “I’m not getting into that.”

Katie laughed, shaking her head. “That’s not a no.”

Bianca didn’t respond.

***

Cam had been sprawled across his bed, phone proposed up against his knee as Rebecca’s face filled the screen on FaceTime. His room at Purdue felt smaller than usual, like the walls had been closing in the longer he stayed there. His vice carried that same tightness - frustration wrapped in something heavier.

“I’m telling you, it’s like I never even got a shot,” Cam said, running a hair through his hair. “They had their minds made up before I even stepped on the field. Once they slapped that redshift on me, that was it. I went from a prized recruit to just another guy.”

Rebecca barely reacted. She had been hunched over her desk, pen in hand, eyes flicking between her notebook and laptop. She nodded occasionally, but it was automatic - detached.

Cam kept going anyway.

“Like i’m just supposed to sit here and catch passes from their golden boy quarterback like I’m lucky to even be here,” he scoffed, the disdain in his voice sharp and unmistakable. “That’s not what I came here for.”

Rebecca hummed faintly, still writing.

Cam’s jaw tightened. He leaned forward slightly, eyes narrowing at the screen.

“Yo,” he said. “Are you even listening?”

Rebecca didn’t look up right away. “I am,” she said flatly.

Cam let out a short, humorless laugh. “Doesn’t sound like it. Do you even care?”

Rebecca paused then, finally lifting her eyes to the screen. She leaned back in her chair slightly, expression unreadable.

She shrugged.

“You knew what you were signing up for,” she said. “You’re fresh out of high school acting like you’re supposed to be some superstar right away. I don’t even know football like that, but that shit just makes sense to me.”

Cam’s face folded in on itself, like he had just been slapped.

“What?” he said, genuinely thrown. “What does that even mean? You don’t think I’m good enough to start?”

Rebecca sighed, clearly already tired of the conversation. She glanced back down at her notes for a second before answering.

“Obviously I think you’re talented,” she said. “But expecting a starting role to just be handed to you? That’s asinine, Cam.”

Silence hung between them for a moment.

Cam’s eyes drifted away from the screen, his jaw working slightly as he tried to process it. His voice dropped when he spoke again.

“Zane’s starting at Syracuse.”

Rebecca didn’t even hesitate this time. She shook her head immediately.

“Comparing yourself to Zane is what got you here in the first place,” she said.

Cam scoffed under his breath. “Man, everything just gets handed to that guy.”

Rebecca’s head snapped up, her brows knitting together as something sharper flashed across her face - real emotion this time.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” she said, not really a question.

Cam didn’t backtrack. He just sat there, stewing in it.

Rebecca stared at him for a second longer before shaking her head, visibly upset now. She tossed her pen onto the desk with a quiet clatter.

“Just so we’re on the same page - we’re talking about the same Zane Jones, right? The guy whose Dad got arrested when he was a kid?” she shot back. “Or the one whose grandfather got gunned down the day after the biggest moment of his life?”

Cam’s gaze dropped immediately.

Rebecca exhaled sharply, shaking her head again as if she couldn’t believe she even had to say it.

“I’m done listening to this pity fest,” she said, shaking her head. “Listening to you bitch and moan has never dried me up more, holy shit.”

Before Cam could respond - before he could even think of something to say - the call ended.

The screen went back.

Cam sat there, the silence in the room pressing in on him, heavier than before. His phone slowly lowered into his lap, his reflection faintly staring back at him in the dark screen.

[Caesar]

Bianca rolled her eyes. “God forbid a man and a woman go and get coffee once or twice without being foretold they’re going to start fucking.”

“But seriously,” she said, tone shifting just enough to sound genuine. “You really gonna sit here and act like Bryce Underwood isn’t sexy?”

Bianca paused. Just for a second.

Then she shrugged, deliberately nonchalant, lifting her drink to her lips. “I’m not getting into that.”

Katie laughed, shaking her head. “That’s not a no.”

Bianca didn’t respond.

Never wrong, just early.

Cam gotta go.

[Captain Canada]

Bianca rolled her eyes. “God forbid a man and a woman go and get coffee once or twice without being foretold they’re going to start fucking.”

“But seriously,” she said, tone shifting just enough to sound genuine. “You really gonna sit here and act like Bryce Underwood isn’t sexy?”

Bianca paused. Just for a second.

Then she shrugged, deliberately nonchalant, lifting her drink to her lips. “I’m not getting into that.”

Katie laughed, shaking her head. “That’s not a no.”

Bianca didn’t respond.

Never wrong, just early.

Cam gotta go.

This ain't Mireya. She does not have an insatiable thirst for cocks, brother. She just want some companionship.

Cam a problem, but he's like a good amount of freshman in college. Fed the dream only to end up eating shit.

[redsox907]

well to be fair, he wasn't exactly fed a dream. He knew from the jump they wanted him and Zane together. He's the one who fumbled the bag. Coulda been there with bro getting some shine more than likely, but he didn't do his end of the bargain

[Captain Canada]

well to be fair, he wasn't exactly fed a dream. He knew from the jump they wanted him and Zane together. He's the one who fumbled the bag. Coulda been there with bro getting some shine more than likely, but he didn't do his end of the bargain

Hindsight is always 20/20. My boy just wanted some validation that he was worth something else on his own. Even Robin got sick of being Robin eventually

[Captain Canada]

Season V | Chapter VIII - Say I Wanna Know

Zane had boarded the team bus with his carry-on bag gripped tightly in his hand, the fabric creasing under his fingers. It hadn’t been as long as he expected when he first committed to Syracuse, but he had already been heading back to Pittsburgh.

Home.

The thought sat strangely in his chest.

This wasn’t just any trip - it was their first ACC game, and they were walking into it against a Pittsburgh Panthers team that had been firing on all cylinders. All week, Coach Brown and the staff had been hammering the same message: this game mattered. After the tough loss to USC, the Orange needed to get back on track. Needed to prove something.

Zane had moved down the aisle and slid into a seat beside Johntay toward the middle of the bus, far enough from the chaos and shouting that had already started building in the back. He set his bag down at his feet and leaned back slightly, trying to settle in.

Behind them, Tyshawn and Ajani had taken their seats, already locked into their usual rhythm.

It didn’t take long.

Tyshawn leaned forward, squeezing himself into the narrow space between Zane and Johntay’s seats, his voice cutting through the low hum of conversation.

“So what Grandma Jones got cooking for the homecoming?” he asked, a grin already forming like he expected a five-star answer.

Zane snorted, shaking his head. “Not a damn thing.”

Johntay chuckled under his breath.

Zane continued, glancing back over his shoulder. “Y’all better hope we get in early enough for you to drive back to Harrisburg and get you some real food.”

Tyshawn sucked his teeth immediately, though the smile didn’t leave his face. “My nigga, that’s like three and a half hours,” he said, leaning back slightly. “You my only hope right now.”

Zane shrugged, the humor fading just a touch. “I’m just being real. I don’t really think there’s gonna be much waiting for me at home anyway.”

There was a slight shift in the air.

“I won’t lie - my grandma’s been going through it,” he added more quietly. “Last few months been something.”

Tyshawn leaned back fully into his seat this time, nodding slowly. Ajani did the same beside him, both of them understanding without needing much more said.

Johntay turned his head, giving Zane a look that carried a little more weight than his usual energy.

“I hear you,” he said. “But I’m sure she’s just gonna be happy to see you, bro.”

Zane looked forward again, that thought settling in a different way. There was something comforting in it.

“Yeah,” he said after a moment, a small, hopeful smile creeping in. “I’m glad I get to see her this soon. Feels like I just left, but I don’t know. I’m looking forward to seeing a familiar face.”

Johntay’s expression shifted instantly, his face going dead serious as he stared at Zane.

“Oh, so you saying my face ain’t friendly?” he asked, voice stern.

There was a beat. A pause where nobody said anything.

“Nah, just ugly.”

Then the bus erupted around them as the four of them broke into laughter, the tension cracking completely. Tyshawn leaned forward again, pointing. Ajani shaking his head, Johntay trying to hold the serious look for a second longer before he broke too.

Zane laughed with them, the sound coming easier than it had in a while.

***

Rasheed had been just about to step out of the front door, one hand wrapped around the knob, when his mother’s voice cut through the quiet of the house.

“Rasheed.”

It stopped him cold.

He had stood there for a moment, his back still to her, jaw tightening slightly. He had been running on fumes for days now - burning the midnight oil ever since his meeting with Heather. Her words had been stuck on a loop in his head.

Mariah’s story.

Tom.

Years of abuse that had escalated into something darker, more dangerous. Mariah finally finding the strength to leave. Finding Felix - of all people - to help her get back on her feet. A man who had always made it his business to help others, even when it cost him.

And then Tom catching up.

The rest? Rasheed didn’t need to replay. He had already seen how that ended. The problem was, Tom had vanished.

Rasheed had been chasing shadows ever since. Heather hadn’t been able to give him much - Mariah had kept her out of the loop for years, first out of shame, then to protect her. The few leads Rasheed had managed to scrape together had already dried up. Still, he had more places to look. More people to press.

He couldn’t stop now. He turned slowly, his expression already guarded.

Mary stood a few feet away, watching him closely.

“Where are you going?” she asked.

Rasheed exhaled through his nose. “Got some business to take care of.”

Mary shook her head immediately. “Not today.”

There was a flicker of irritation across his face. “What I got to do is important,” he said, his tone sharpening.

Mary didn’t back down.

“Is it more important than your son?”

That landed. Rasheed’s grip loosened on the doorknob. He turned fully now, looking at her, but he didn’t answer.

Mary stepped closer, her voice steady despite the weight behind it.

“Zane’s coming back to town,” she said. “To play his game. And that boy barely even knows you’re out.”

Rasheed’s eyes dropped slightly. Mary continued, pressing forward.

“Imagine how he’s gonna feel,” she said, “when he finds out his father’s not locked anymore and still chose to be somewhere else. Doing God knows what instead of seeing him. For the first time he would actually remember.”

The words hung heavy in the air.

Rasheed didn’t have anything to say. His gaze stayed down, shoulders tense, like he was carrying something he didn’t know how to put down.

After a long pause, his voice came quieter.

“I just don’t know if I can face him,” he admitted. “He’s better off without me.”

Mary’s expression softened - one of the few times it had since Felix’s death.

“I don’t know how to be a father,” Rasheed added, almost to himself. “I know I can’t measure up to what Zane has already had all of these years.”

For a moment, neither of them moved.

Then Mary stepped forward and reached out, placing a gentle hand on his arm. It wasn’t forceful or demanding. Just there.

“Do you want to measure up?” she asked softly. “Because all your father did was show up and try his best. And you’re his son and all your son needs from you is to do the same.”

Rasheed swallowed, his jaw tightening again.

Mary gave his arm a small squeeze.

“He’s on his way,” she continued. “And you’re only gonna get one first time with him like this.”

Rasheed stayed still, the weight of that settling deep.

***

The Syracuse team bus had rolled into the hotel lot just as the sun began dipping behind the skyline, casting Pittsburgh in a warm, fading glow. As the city came into view through the window, Zane had felt something shift in his chest.

It was familiar. Bridges, buildings, the rhythm of the streets - it all came rushing back. It hadn’t been that long since he had left, but somehow, it felt like it had been. Long enough for things to feel different. Like was seeing home from the outside now.

The bus slowed, then came to a stop.

Zane leaned slightly toward the window, absentminded at first - until his eyes caught something that made his breath hitch.

Two figures. Standing by his grandfather’s old car. His grandmother.

And his father.

They were both smiling, wide and unmistakable, like they had been waiting for this moment all day.

Zane felt his pulse spike instantly. His chest tightened, and before he could stop it, tears began to sting at the corners of his eyes. For a second, he just stared, frozen in his seat, trying to process what he was looking at.

Around him, the energy shifted fast.

“Ohhh shit!”

“Come on, 7! Let’s go!”

The guys had picked up on it immediately, hooting and hollering, some clapping, others leaning over seats to get a look out the window. They knew what this was.

This wasn’t just a homecoming.

It was a reintroduction.

Zane swallowed hard, blinking a few times as he tried to steady himself. This was his first time really seeing his father in the flesh.

He hadn’t prepared for this.

When he had first heard Rasheed was getting out on parole, he had been too numb - buried under the weight of his grandfather’s death to even process it. And by the time it had actually happened, he had been in the middle of moving his life to Syracuse, caught in a whirlwind that didn’t leave space for moments like this.

But now, there was no avoiding it.

The team began clapping as he stood up, the sound building around him as he grabbed his duffel bag and slung it over his shoulder. As he stepped into the aisle, hands tapped his back, shoulders bumped into his in support.

Coach Brown met him near the front, placing a firm arm around his shoulder.

“Go ahead,” he said, a small smile on his face. “Handle your business.”

Zane nodded, unable to find words. He stepped off the bus.

The cool Pittsburgh air hit him immediately, but he barely registered it. His eyes were locked ahead as he walked toward them, each step feeling heavier and lighter all at once.

Mary reached him first.

She wrapped him up in a tight hug, arms squeezing like she didn’t want to let go. Zane melted into in, holding her just as tightly.

“I missed you,” she whispered.

“I missed you too,” he murmured back.

He pulled back slightly, his hands still on her shoulders as he looked at her. She was smiling - genuinely smiling - but there was still something underneath it. Something hollow. The grief hadn’t loosened its grip, just learned how to hide better. Her eyes didn’t quite match the moment, and Zane felt that in his chest.

But then, there was Rasheed. Standing just a step away.

He looked unsure. Like he didn’t know where to put his hands, where to look. His eyes flickered up toward Zane for only a second before dropping again. Clearly, Zane wasn’t the only one who hadn’t thought this meeting through.

Zane shifted his weight, taking a small step toward.

“What’s up?” he said, his voice softer than he expected.

Rasheed nodded once, almost stiffly. “What’s up.”

There was a pause. A brief, awkward space where neither of them quite knew how to bridge the gap.

Then Zane extended his hand.

Rasheed took it. They dapped each other up - quick, familiar, almost instinctual.

But neither of them let go. The handshake pulled them closer, and just like that, it turned into something else.

They embraced. Tight.

Real.

Zane felt his father’s grip locker around him, strong and steady, like he was holding onto something he thought he might lose.

Again.

Zane held him back just as firmly, burying his face into his shoulder for a moment. And in that space, they weren’t two grown men navigating years of distance.

They were exactly what they had been missing for as long as they could remember

A father and his son.

[redsox907]

they betta not get no RIP shirts, juss sayin

Zane better ball out against Pitt, gotta show em what they missed out on

[Caesar]

About time someone join Caine Geurra as a positive male role model and father in these RTGs

Syracuse about to catch belt again.

[redsox907]

About time someone join Caine Geurra as a positive male role model and father in these RTGs

Caine Guerra..convicted felon who can count the amount of times he's spent consecutive days with his daughter since moving to Georgia with all of his digits...as a positive male role model?



boy left his daughter behind twice, the second time knowing that a prostitute was her primary care provider. That's child neglect, brodie

[Soapy]

a real hood booger heart warming story there

stay out the way, Sheed

these new kids got switches