Remember The Titans drabbles

Author: wildwordwomyn

Word Count: Wave = 359, Courage = 294, Kryptonite = 221, Symbiosis = 178, Beginning = 282

Fandom: Remember The Titans pre-slash and slash

Pairing: Gerry Bertier/Julius Campbell, Emma Hoyt, Coach Boone, Mrs. Bertier

Rating: G to PG

Author's Notes: My first venture into this fandom. I figured why not?

Disclaimers/Warnings: No own. No harm intended. Not real.


It's your first day of physical therapy after the accident, your first day looking at the pool, and all you can think is it looks a lot like the torture devices you saw in your World History books at school. You know it's not, that it really is just a big ditch full of water. But right now? When you're sitting in your wheelchair and the therapist is smiling at you all innocent? It's so much more than it should be. Just staring into the water is making you tired.

"Get your butt in the water, Bertier," she calls out. A little too sadistically in your eyes. She sounds like Coach Boone, though, and it helps. You ease yourself to the edge of your chair as she jumps in. "Good. Now just let yourself fall in."

Fall in? You can do that. Right. Not as easy as it looks trying to make yourself trust that the water will somehow just be there. When you finally do it you realize she forgot to teach you how to float with no legs to buoy you. She catches you before you sink and proceeds to command you to swim. As if you were normal. Normal...After a half hour you're so damn exhausted you're literally hugging the ladder railings. She's congratulating you on a job well done, says you're doing better than anyone expected (you're a Titan, you know about going beyond expectation) and you're nodding without paying much attention. All you want is to be out of the water, dry, warm.

Suddenly, arms scoop you up and carry you out, holding you close to a solid chest. It's embarrassing and comforting and when you see it's Julius, that it's him cradling you, you begin to cry for the first time since you've been in the hospital.

"I gotcha, Superman. It's okay. I'm here," he murmurs as you bury your face in his neck. "Don't worry. I ain't lettin' go..."

You remember the therapist's words about letting yourself fall and think about the musky scent of Julius's neck. You get the sudden feeling falling will be happening a lot more in your future...


Before the semi-finals when Gerry was hurt you thought you knew what pain was. Football camp before the season? Suicides in 100 degree heat? Yeah, you figured you knew pain. And then he got side-swiped while you were with your girl and suddenly real pain made itself known. He feels that pain now. And every time you see him in that hospital bed you feel it too. But he smiles through it all as if he's made of steel. And in a lot of ways he is. That boy, you're pretty safe in saying, really is Superman...

You see her walk up looking nervous, scared really, and you're frozen in place. Because despite her fear (hell, she broke up with him for not giving you up) her stride is determined.

"Julius Campbell?" Her voice is a little hesitant but she's got spunk. It's easy to see why Gerry was so sweet on her.

The refs are calling you. Coach is calling you. The game's about to start and you're needed on the field. "Yeah," you say, ignoring everyone but her, "I know who you are. We just ain't never been properly introduced."

She blinks and takes a breath to gather her courage. "I'm Emma Hoyt." Suddenly she sticks out her hand to shake. They keep calling, getting frantic now. You don't get out there and you make the team forfeit the game. You know that. It's just that she's doing this for Gerry. So you reach out and shake her hand gently, respectfully. "There. Now we've met." She smiles now.

You can't help thinking it doesn't take a genius to understand why she's here. It's the same reason you stayed, that makes you smile in return. For him you're willing to do most anything...


It wasn't until you saw him there, sitting up, breathing, alive, that it hit you. You almost lost him. For good. Without him ever knowing, well, anything really. Your family. Your friends. You. you were still learning each other before the accident. Getting there. Wherever there was. And now? Everyone surrounding him, protecting him? All you want now is to take him in your arms and hold him until it all goes away.

"I won't break, ya know," he says softly when you sit gingerly on the edge of the bed.

It's late and the others have gone home. You're all that's left. For some reason Gerry won't let you leave and you don't mind staying. He looks like he's in some pain when you shift to stand.

"I should go, Gerry." He grabs your hand as you turn, an undefined look in his eyes. "It's late and even Superman needs his sleep."

"Julius?" As broken as he is his grip is still iron-clad. "Stay?"

"I don't think the nurses'll like that too much."

He blinks and smiles wearily. "Please?"

You pull a chair up close to the bed and make yourself comfortable. "Just so you know, I'ma need a couple of those pain pills tomorrow." You have to grin because there is no other option. Not for you. Not anymore.


"Emma's the kinda girl you can't help but love, man. Small, blonde, smart. Fun."

"So why isn't she here instead of me?" Gerry rolls over in his bed to face the other boy laying beside him.

"Because..." He hopes he won't have to answer, hopes being naked and sweaty in the afterglow explains everything.

Julius quirks and eyebrow and grins. "Because?"

He sighs, resigned. "Because she isn't you."

And that's the real reason right there. Gerry wouldn't, couldn't, give him up. Not even for her. He didn't understand why in the beginning but it's clear now. Especially when he runs a finger down Julius' muscular chest and feels the other youth shiver. Gerry wasn't a virgin before he and Emma started dating. Not that he'd had a lot of experience either, but enough to think he was satisfied. Then Julius came along and changed everything. With him it's his first time all over again.

Julius's grin eases into a soft, private smile as they stare into each other's eyes, prompting him to say, "Because we never had this."


You wrestle. Which is no big thing to anybody else. But more and more whenever one of you ends up straddling the other you immediately get turned on. And even though you try to pass it off as being a teenage boy you get the feeling it's more than that. Something about the way his hands grip your wrists as he laughs in your face, the contrast of his skin when it flushes with exertion, his muscles visibly tightening in a show of strength. His body calls to you in a way your girl's doesn't. You don't have to be gentle with him or him with you.

And yet when he helps you up off the ground his hand is soft, relaxed, and his smile is sweet. When he bumps helmets with you after practice there's no jarring in your head and neck from the impact. He is different with you and you can't explain why. But you like it in spite of yourself.

Until one night when you're wrestling in his room after dinner and his mama calls up for you two to quit acting like little boys. You both giggle, leaning against each other, breathless. Suddenly his face is too close, his lips are against yours and the moment is so fine it makes you ache in a place deep inside. Without even realizing it your hand is on his neck to hold him in place while your mouth opens in a groan.

When he whimpers in the back of his throat you think maybe this is what the wrestling has been leading up to, the fighting, the growing. Maybe this is what you were meant to have all along.