The Sandlot (Yeah-Yeah x reader) (completed)

part nine - The Sandlot

(𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑏𝑒 𝑎 𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑦 𝑙𝑜𝑛𝑔 𝑐ℎ𝑎𝑝𝑡𝑒𝑟, 𝑠𝑜 𝑏𝑒𝑎𝑟 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑚𝑒)

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𝗜 𝗵𝗮𝗱 𝗮 𝗱𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗺 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗻𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁, 𝗼𝗳 𝗮 𝗴𝗶𝗮𝗻𝘁 𝗯𝗮𝘀𝗲𝗯𝗮𝗹𝗹, 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝘀 𝘀𝗶𝗴𝗻𝗲𝗱 𝗯𝘆 𝗕𝗮𝗯𝗲 𝗥𝘂𝘁𝗵, 𝗳𝗮𝗹𝗹𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗼𝘂𝘁 𝗼𝗳 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘀𝗸𝘆, 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗵𝗮𝗺𝗺𝗲𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗺𝗲 𝗶𝗻𝘁𝗼 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗴𝗿𝗼𝘂𝗻𝗱 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲 𝗮 𝗿𝗮𝗶𝗹𝗿𝗼𝗮𝗱 𝘀𝗽𝗶𝗸𝗲. 𝗜 𝗱𝗶𝗱𝗻𝘁 𝗸𝗻𝗼𝘄 𝘄𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗺𝗲𝗮𝗻𝘁, 𝗯𝘂𝘁 𝗕𝗲𝗻𝗻𝘆 𝗵𝗮𝗱 𝗮 𝗱𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗺 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗻𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 𝘁𝗼𝗼. 𝗔𝗻𝗱 𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝘄𝗮𝘀 𝗮 𝗹𝗼𝘁 𝗺𝗼𝗿𝗲 𝗵𝗲𝗹𝗽𝗳𝘂𝗹.
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Benny's dream -
(Benny) -
i was sitting on my bed, thinking of y/n's baseball. and how it was gone, forever. then my baseball bobble heads, and the ones of The Babe started shaking on my dresser. then my lamp flickered. i stand up, "who's there?!" i ask, demanding an answer.

suddenly, my closet door opens and there stands a black-and-white version of Babe Ruth, baseball bat in hand, it swung around his shoulder, and cigar in mouth. i blink my eyes a few times, trying to find out if what i'm seeing is for real. he walks farther in my bedroom, "don't go peeing your pants, kid. i'm just here to give you a hand." he says. "but you're-" i start. "dead? legends never die, kid." he cuts me off.

"but-....but you're really him!" i state, then look back at the picture of him and another random man that's on my wall. i look back at him, "you're The Babe!" i state again. he nods. "The Sultan of Swat! The King of Cra-" i start again. "of crash, and a hundred other dopey nicknames. forget about that stuff, kid. we ain't got much time. i'm here 'cause you're in some kind of pickle, right?" he questions, me nodding. "a baseball, with my John Hancock on it went over a fence, and you don't know how to get it back, correct?" he asks. "yeah..right." i approve. he walks closer to me,

"then just hop over there and get it." he tells me and starts to walk out. well, back into my closet. "wait, wait!" i stop him, him turning back around to face me. "i- i cant do that." i tell him. "do what?" he questions. "....i cant go into that backyard." i answer. "why not?" he asks.

"there's a beast back there."

"what kind?"

"...a GIANT gorilla-dog thing, that ate one kid already."

"is that a fact? sit down, kid." he demands, backing me up and sitting me on my bed again, him pulling out my desk chair.

but he doesn't sit on it, yet. he takes a picture off the wall of some person on a baseball card, but i couldn't see who. now, he finally sits in the wooden seat.

"let me tell you something, kid. everybody gets one chance to do something great. most people never take the chance, either 'cause they're to scared...or they don't recognize it when it spits on their shoes. this is your big chance. and you shouldn't let it go by. i mean, remember when you busted the guys out of that ball the other day?"

i nod.

"someone's telling you something, kid. and if i was you, i'd listen."

i nod in agreement, biting the inside of my lip. "yeah...but what?" i ask.

Babe Ruth chuckles, "you're the one with rubber legs, kid. figure it out." he states, not helping me at all.

he gets up from the chair, and picks up the baseball card again. "Henry Aaron." he reads. "i don't know why, but can i have this, kid?" he asks. "yeah, sure." i answer.