Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Exy practices had been longer and more focused on scrimmages for the upcoming days to the game. Coach Evans was excited to actually have a good team put together, and as usual Andrew could care less. The only gleam in his hole of darkness was the fact that he was playing goalie and Gordon was still in solitary confinement from the stunt he had pulled. Sure the other boy was being released today, and technically hadn’t done anything physical to Andrew, but Betsy had argued that the offense should be punished. In her eyes Andrew was a victim. No one else really agreed with her on that front since he had in fact been the one to throw the punch.

In the end, whoever made decisions agreed that both of their behaviors were unacceptable. Andrew was let off with a warning, and his initial confinement, while Gordon was sent to solitary for a few days. Andrew couldn’t help but feel smug about the outcome. He wasn’t a victim, Andrew wasn’t weak, yet the situation was treated like he was one. Gordon got the real punishment while Andrew walked away relatively scot free. They were leaving for Fremont shortly after lunch, which left Andrew to stalk around his cell in silence. Isaiah was laid down on his own bed, a book gripped in between his hands.

Isaiah had asked him about the game twice now. If Andrew was excited, and what time they’d be back. Which he had answered with a quick ‘no’ and an ‘I don’t know’. Andrew could tell when Isaiah was getting perturbed at his antics. The boy’s face would settle with a slightly pouted frown, and he’d refrain from even making eye contact until the spell broke. Sometimes that spell lasted for hours, or until the next time they were both feeling slightly horny.

Andrew scuffed the bottom of his slip on shoes against the cold linoleum emitting a squeak. After the fifth repeated noise Isaiah tilted his head and glared at him. That same frown decorating his face. Andrew lifted one of his eyebrows as if asking what are you going to do about it? Obviously nothing, because Isaiah just rolled over so his back was facing Andrew.

He wasn’t sure what he had wanted out of the interaction, but it hadn’t been being ignored. He stopped scuffing his shoes and walked over to their door, staring out the slit into the empty block. He almost jumped back when a close up of Lucas’s jaw greeted him through the thick glass. Instead he took a solid two steps back and waited for the buzzer to ring.

Lucas had a guard with him, Officer Romero, who carried a pair of handcuffs with a waist chain.

“Good afternoon Andrew! Are you excited for tonight’s game?” Lucas asked brightly.

Officer Romero walked into the cell behind him and immediately started to unravel the chains he was holding. Andrew kept still as the man wrapped the chain around his waist, locking it just below his belly button. The cuffs came next, which were shortened until Andrew couldn’t pull his hands off of his waist.

“Oh you know me. I’m about to keel over with excitement.” Andrew deadpanned. His comment didn’t deter Lucas, who beckoned him out of his cell and into the block. There was another kid being escorted out who was also on the team. They fell in line together, and were brought through a series of doors until they finally were outside. The rest of the Exy team was half in a line getting on the bus and some were already on it. All of them were cuffed for the transport, their gear was being loaded into the underside of the bus too. A stray thought briefly skittered through his mind; He’d finally get to wear his game jersey.

“Lucas, are you coming to Fremont?” Andrew asked his escort who was currently scribbling away on a clipboard. There were only a few escorts standing with the group, the rest were straight up guards.

Lucas didn’t look up from his writing, replying with a curt; “Yes.”

Andrew prodded on even after the short answer. “How come? There’s only three others, why aren't there more?”

He knew the answer, and the brief raised brow from Lucas confirmed his thoughts. Known for his violent streak, even while cuffed, Andrew needed extra security. Not that Lucas could count as actual security, if it came down to it, Andrew could beat him to hell and back. Screw the extra security, screw the wavering glances, screw it all.

“Minyard!” Coach Evans called from his position by the bus door. He crooked his finger at Andrew and beckoned him forward. Andrew took his time walking the distance to his Coach, listening to the clang of metal and Lucas practically breathing down his back.

“Alright, he’s checked in. Go ahead and get settled on the bus.” Coach Evans smiled. While the words were directed at Andrew, he knew there was an underlying meaning for Lucas. He’s checked in, getting him strapped down and separated from everyone was probably the equivalent of the man’s words.

Small spaces and angry juvenile delinquents spelled disaster, but here was the Exy team. Attempting it anyways for the sake of a stickball game.

He trudged up the steps, scowling at some of the already seated boys who dared to make eye contact with him. There was plexiglass separating the seats from the driver, and then a multitude of seats behind it with chains fixed to each one. Andrew was deposited in one of the very first seats, a chain hooked to the back of his waist to keep him from getting up. When he leaned back the chain dug into the small of his back, but it wasn’t enough of a bother to complain about. Lucas sat himself in the seat across from Andrew, still scribbling away at his ever present clipboard.

Andrew couldn’t help but think back to movies he’d seen in passing. The team of a struggling school would sit on the bus on the way to their destination. Their coach giving them a spurring speech. At the end of the movie, the team always won, or there’d be some life lesson about losing for the greater good. Andrew hated those movies. Unlike the movies though, Andrew was cuffed and quite literally chained to his seat. The boys around him were just as excited, as if they were in the movies, but it didn’t hit the same way. The same feeling couldn’t be applied, because it was so fucking stupid. A bunch of juvenile delinquents were going to another detention center to play a game of stickball.

Like… What the hell?

He was beginning to think they’d never pull out of the lot, but finally Coach Evans thundered his way onto the bus to give the driver a thumbs up accompanied by a big grin. The plexiglass was shut in between them, leaving the boys with the sounds of quiet conversations and rattling chains.

Positioned in the smack middle of his chair, Andrew couldn’t lean his face against the window like he used to during car rides. Cass would let him sit up in the front of the car, and they’d go on little day trips occasionally. She thought he needed more time outside, Andrew thought she was right. Sometimes it was the ocean, or a park, and sometimes it was just out to see the sunset.

Regardless, this wasn’t one of their little trips, and as much as he wanted to lean against the window to bring some of that nostalgia back. He decided it was for the best to not dwell on the situation. Keep things separate. He wouldn’t allow his feelings to trickle in and ruin his mindset.

Fremont was only an hour away from Oakland, but the ride seemed so much longer than that. Maybe it was his anticipation for the game, or his restlessness at not being able to move. It could even be how Lucas tried to start conversations with him every couple of minutes, the man was clearly bored as well. Andrew settled on the incoming dread of potentially seeing Drake. He had no idea if the Spears were coming to the game, and he hadn’t concerned himself too much with it. As much as he wanted to push Cass away, at the moment he could barely manage to entertain the thought. Letting go of her would hurt, and he wasn’t ready to experience the pain.

Since he hadn’t banned them from coming though, that meant he might see Drake. The delinquents from Oakland wouldn’t get visitation afterwards, because they had to head back to their own detention center. So that was an ease towards Andrew’s nerves. It wasn’t enough to stop his brain from whirring.

He’d ended up pinching the meaty flesh of his thumb over and over again until they arrived. His pale skin was reddened by the time Lucas finally noticed and told him to cut it out. As the bus shuddered to a stop in the intake parking lot, Coach Evans sauntered his way through the now open plexiglass door.

“Are you guys ready?” Evans asked, a bit of an excited shout coating his voice. The man’s smile was truly contagious, a lot of the younger boys were bouncing in their seats. A few of the older ones even dared to smile. Andrew didn’t even deign to open his eyes wider. He continued his sullen streak, slumping against his seat and tilting his head up to face Coach Evans.

“Alright! This is our first ranked game of the season! For those of you new to the team, there will be staff who record the games and there will be some people who fill out score sheets to keep tabs on you guys.” Coach Evans’ gaze made sure to stop on each and every boy as he talked, and he finally ended up on Andrew where he didn’t let up. “On a more serious note, I expect no fights. From anyone. As we all know, Exy does allow legal hits, but the second one of those hits turns into something more: the person responsible is sitting out. I won’t have an unruly team. I want a winning team. This is a chance for all of you once you get released, try not to blow it.”

Andrew simply looked up through his eyelashes at his coach, and apparently that was enough of an acceptance of the rules for Coach Evans to move on. He went over the regulations of how penalties worked, and how to be sportsmanlike. As well as what to do if the other team caused problems.

Unlike what everyone seemed to be thinking, Andrew wasn’t planning on causing problems today. He was here to play Exy, because the niggling feeling of what he thought might be hope kept scratching inside of him. The smugness he felt about Gordon losing his privileges only made his choice of playing that much sweeter. Lucas was obviously expecting trouble from him, why else would he have come? There were plenty of other guards that could’ve been on babysitting duty.

Andrew mindlessly stood up once the chain tethering him to his seat was unhooked. They were all led out in a single file line, guards on either side of them. There was a slight tension in the air, but Andrew couldn’t tell where it seemed to be coming from the most. There were plenty of excited whispers coming from behind him, wavering glances from the guards and Lucas’s close proximity probably added to it. His fingers itched to scratch at something, and for once it wasn’t his wrists. It was anticipation.

Fremont Juvenile Detention Center was practically a carbon copy of Oakland’s facility. The walls were all the same, so were the doors, the only blaring difference Andrew could spot was that instead of dark blue inmate uniforms, Fremont wore a blaring yellow. Well, at least it wasn’t orange. After several warnings to hush and a stressed smile on Evans face, they arrived at their locker rooms. Which was a glorified name for a plain bathroom. Coach Evans had said it was vacated from other use of the inmates and would be theirs to change out in. It was the closest one to the Exy court apparently.

Andrew was freed from his cuffs at last, granted he was still followed closely. Lucas stood outside the stalls as he changed into his jersey. Pulling on the navy colored uniform sent a little chill down his spine. The sleek material was different than his usual prison outfit, it was lighter and more breathable. What he forgot about it, was that it was short sleeved only. Andrew was met with pale skin and lopsided ridges. The mess he had made of his arms, or his life, gaped at him. He briefly ran his thumb over one of the most recent cuts, it was still a bit tender.

He had already decided the moment he saw them that he wouldn’t go out of the stall with the scars exposed. Andrew’s reputation as a soulless monster couldn’t be altered because of a coping mechanism. He slipped the jersey back off and pulled back on his black long sleeved undershirt. He was going to burn to death on the court, but he’d be fine, he doubted Fremont had much talent. His own team barely did.

He finished getting dressed, shorts on, socks, shoes, all accompanied by a raised brow from Lucas when he saw the long sleeve shirt. No one else was wearing an undershirt, it was just him. No one objected though, just herded him towards the court with the rest of the boys. The gear and racquets were waiting for them there.

Coach Evans made them do a few laps around the court before trading off with Fremont so the other team could also do a brief warm up. Andrew watched as the other kids ran in circles as he strapped on his own gear. He had the most due to him being a goalkeeper, and cinching each strap was practically therapeutic. He felt ready for battle when he finally stood up, his padding creaking occasionally when he moved. The guards around his legs looked like they should hinder his movements, but with the way they were made Andrew could probably run in them. Well at least until the chafing started.

For the first time in a while, Andrew felt truly pristine. No grubby inmate uniform covering his skin, a gentle sheen of sweat misting his forehead from their own warmup. His skin wasn’t crawling. It was impressively refreshing.

A huddle had started to form around Coach Evans, who hadn’t stopped beaming. Andrew sauntered over to the group, a space being made as he neared. Evans was pointing out the official staff seated behind a fold out table. Those were the people who would jot down the inmate’s potential and send off their information to interested parties.

Those were the people who could help change Andrew’s future.

As if. He wouldn’t be playing this stupid sport once he got out of lockup, hell, he didn’t even know if he’d continue playing after this game.

Evans finished up talking them through plays and then promptly dismissed them to get back onto the court. That was the moment when Andrew deigned to look around at who was sitting in the bleachers. He hadn’t told Cass about the game, he was sure the staff had though. He realized that he kind of had hoped to see her sitting amongst the rest of the viewers. The second he did though, a sour twisting knot formed in his stomach. Cass was there, a small toothless smile and hopeful eyes. To her right was Richard Spear, who looked a lot more excited than Andrew had seen him be in a while. To her left was Drake.

Of course Drake would show up, he wasn’t due to ship out for the army until the end of summer. He should’ve prepared himself, but he had chalked up his worries and stuffed them away. Now that stress was bobbling on the edge and threatening to tip over. The clean smelling jersey didn’t help him, the racquet clenched in his fist didn’t distract him.

Coach Evans saved him from himself just as Andrew thought a wave was going to push him off the edge. The rest of the team had started walking out to their positions, a few were lagging behind and talking to each other. Only Andrew was standing off near the wall.

“Hey Minyard, I didn’t take you to be one of the nervous kids.”

“I’m not.” He replied stiffly.

“It’s okay if you are. Sure, there’s not that many people here, but there’s no shame in being nervous. Happens to the best of us.” Coach Evans said.

“I’m not nervous.” Andrew argued.

“Alright Minyard. I believe you. Are you ready to get on the court? You’re going to do great.”

Andrew found himself walking towards his own goal, the rest of the team had finally sorted themselves out and were facing Fremont’s team. The other kids seemed about the same age, and somewhat more put together than his fellow teammates. Andrew let his head slowly swivel as he settled himself in front of the goal. One of the kids on the other team had his helmet lifted up and he was focused on Andrew. The kid was laughing to his teammates, scoffing at Andrew’s arrival.

“Ha! They brought a twelve year old to guard the goal! Good luck kiddo! The big kids are going to come and wipe you off the floor.”

The kid thought that scoring was going to be a breeze. Andrew couldn’t wait to prove him wrong.

There were few things Andrew truly enjoyed in life, but putting bullies flat on their asses was a favorite.

Andrew gripped his racquet tightly as the buzzer went off.

Fremont had the ball right off the bat, the Oakland dealer hadn’t gotten it in time. The ball flew across the court to and from the Fremont players as they steadily closed in on Oakland’s side of the court. Andrew didn’t have to act for the next ten minutes due to his backliners actually doing a good job. Neither side had scored yet, but Fremont was steadily making progress towards his goal. The kid from earlier, the one who had been laughing, had sent a few scalding comments Andrew’s way. They were mostly about his height, how surprising.

He was barely thinking when he caught another failed goal. One of the Oakland Strikers was standing a few paces behind the laughing bastard, and Andrew seized his chance. He aimed the ball and sent it flying towards the kid’s head. He was wearing a helmet, but from this close range, it was sure to still hurt.

The boy’s helmet rocked on top of his head and was accompanied by a few staggering steps from the victim. The way the boy had been turned made it to where it hit right on the side of his face, conveniently for Andrew there was less padding there. His goal hadn’t been to maim him or get him out of the game. The boy would do that for himself in a matter of seconds.

Oh how he loved being right.

The ball had been picked up by an Oakland striker and both teams were darting towards Fremont’s goal. Not the boy though, he had started the opposite way beelining towards Andrew.

“What the fuck was that? You could’ve hurt me.” The boy whose jersey read, Sowers, gripped Andrew by the front collar and yanked him forward.

“Oh, did I not? I’ll throw harder next time.” Andrew lazily responded.

“You bitch! Someone needs to teach you a lesson.” Sowers growled bringing their faces close together. Andrew didn’t dare fight back, the rules that Coach Evans had so carefully established ruled that any confrontation or physical altercation would result in the guilty player being pulled.

The game had come to a pause when the officials realized what was happening. A guard was opening the door to the court just as Sowers reared back an arm aimed at Andrew’s face. The guard was yelling for Sowers to stand down, but the boy still swung. Andrew neatly ducked at the last second, getting off without a scratch while everyone else was given a clear view of him being attacked.

Andrew couldn’t help but wave as Sowers was being dragged off the court. The referees didn’t keep the game paused for long, Exy was an aggressive sport, and paired with inmates they probably had experienced worse issues beforehand.

Every ball that came barreling towards the goal, Andrew stopped it. He could hear Coach Evan’s muted shouts of celebration every single time. Truly the other team wasn’t awful, they had made several more attempts on Oakland’s goal than his own team had made on Fremont’s. Andrew was just better at defending their goal, his stupid backliners stopped being worth something once they were switched for the second half. After that it was basically up to Andrew to keep them from losing. Surprisingly that’s exactly what he did.

Oakland won, 5-0, and Evans couldn’t keep his mouth shut about how this would put Andrew high on the list. The man had entered the court as soon as the final buzzer sounded and had planted himself in front of the goalkeeper.

“I knew you could do it! That was amazing, Minyard! The college coaches are going to be all over you.” Evan’s face was shiny from sweat, and he seemed oddly tired for someone who hadn’t been playing the actual game. The man’s excitement was contagious though, Andrew couldn’t help but give the man his attention as he spoke. He still didn’t smile, but Evans did even wider at Andrew’s attempt to be more proactive.

“I’m only fifteen, the colleges aren’t going to be looking at me.” The blonde said.

Evans laughed at that, a hearty happy sounding laugh. “Nah Minyard. They’re going to be following you until the day you’re out of here. They’ll snatch you up the second you walk out those prison doors, send scouts to watch you at school games. Put coaches out to commit you early. I bet you’ll even get to play as a pro.”

“You’re putting a lot of faith in one game, Coach.” Andrew tilted his head as he pulled his own helmet off. “I don’t even want to play Exy.”

“I know you don’t, but how about you entertain it. You have raw talent Minyard. Why let it go to waste?”

Evans walked away to corral the rest of the team and congratulate them. Andrew stayed where he had been standing for the last hour, taking note of how sweaty he was. The black undershirt he was wearing clung to his arms with sticky sweat, and his hair was plastered to his forehead. The rest of the team was heading his way, or more so towards the exit, and he fell in line.

The noise of the crowd hit as soon as they stepped outside of the court. Families were waving and shouting to their children, words of congratulations upon their lips. A voice rose above the rest though, loud and booming, shaking Andrew’s haphazardly put together world.

“Hey AJ! Hey! Hey AJ!” Drake was standing beside Cass and waving his arms above his head like a mad man. When the trio noticed Andrew looking their way Cass smiled, and Richard gave a big thumbs up. Drake didn’t shut up though, his grin was wide and wolfish. It was coming to swallow Andrew whole.

He turned away and shoved through the group of inmates, trying to get away from the sound that haunted his dreams.

Any contentment he had been experiencing was washed away and replaced with the feeling of hands on his bare skin. It sent spikes of alarm through his shaking fingers, and no matter how much he scrubbed in the showers it wouldn’t fall away. Drake had to come and ruin everything. Andrew gave up on trying to wipe away the stains and simply stood underneath the shower head. He wrung his hands over and over again, trying to make them stop shaking. His lower lip quivered dangerously, and he kept inhaling like it was his last breath. Trying to count in a steady rhythm didn’t stop the memories from flooding in.

Andrew had arrived back to the Spear’s house early in the afternoon, the bus had dropped him off in front of their cul-de-sac and he’d walked in, excited to have a moment alone. What he hadn’t been expecting was Drake to be home so early.

“Hey AJ! How was your day?” Drake asked while blocking Andrew in the kitchen. Andrew glumly ignored him, focusing on putting his icepacks back in the freezer and hoping that his foster brother would leave him the fuck alone.

“AJ, you know it’s not polite to ignore someone when they’re talking to you.” Drake took several steps forward, entering Andrew’s space so quickly that he barely had time to breathe before inhaling the smell of Drake’s cologne. Drake’s hand came up to Andrew’s chin, softly caressing his face before twisting his head to look up at him. “Come on, tell me how you’ve been today? Talk to me, I’m your big brother, you can tell me anything.”

“You’re not my brother.” Andrew said before he knew the words were leaving his mouth.

Drake’s fingers tightened on Andrew’s face, tugging him a step closer with the anchored hold on his face.

“What do you mean? Of course I’m your brother. I love you so much more than you could ever know… And we have such great times together.” Drake hissed across Andrew’s face, the warm breath making him want to puke.

“Why don’t we have some fun right now? Mom won’t be home for another couple of hours anyways.”

Those words sent a jolt of panic down Andrew’s spine, so he brought his hands up to try to push Drake away from him. The older boy, almost man, caught his hands quickly while simultaneously releasing Andrew’s face. He didn’t say anything else, just started dragging the smaller boy towards the stairs and up to Drake’s room.

Andrew didn’t dare beg, he knew it wouldn’t do him any good. Begging wouldn’t help. Crying wouldn’t help. Nothing would.

Drake tossed him on top of the bed and started pulling off his shoes. Then his socks, and finally his pants and underwear. The entire time Andrew lay shell shocked, his prone form sprawled out with nothing but a shirt on. He reminded himself that if he just dealt with it, it’d all be over soon. He had to let it happen, to preserve his life with Cass. Drake would leave eventually, just one more school year, and then Andrew would be free to live the life with his new mom. He just had to wait.

So he held his breath, and held back vomit as Drake rolled him over and pushed his face into a pillow. He held his muscles tight as wandering hands rolled down his naked thighs, smacked his ass and prodded the meaty flesh of his legs. The sound of Drake’s belt hitting the floor sent him down a long rabbit hole of previous days that looked just like this one. Andrew dug his fingers into the bed as Drake climbed on top of him, maybe if he tried hard enough he could dig a hole into the bed and disappear into it.

Andrew stifled his moans by biting his lip harder and harder after each painful thrust. He wished he knocked himself out with something, or maybe if Drake gave him pills to make him more pliant. Maybe it’d be better.

Drake kissed up and down his spine, leaving slobbery wet marks against Andrew’s skin. Andrew’s shirt was rucked up to reveal his tight stomach and slim waist, which was where Drake loved to smoosh his own face. Lick up and down as if he were eating ice cream.

Drake pressed another kiss in between Andrew’s shoulder blades, accompanied with a shallow thrust just as they both heard the creak of their front door. The monster on top of him froze.

“Andrew! I’m home early! Do you want to come help me start dinner?” Cass’s voice was a light in the darkness. A dim candle at the end of a tunnel.

Andrew could scream right now, Cass would run upstairs and see them. There wasn’t enough time for Drake to hide the mess he’d made of Andrew. This could be over, Drake could be gone.

But…

Would Cass be able to look at Andrew again?

He wasn’t given the chance to figure out if he would take that opportunity or not. Drake pulled out, flipped Andrew back over and pressed his hand to Andrew’s throbbing lips.

“Not a sound, you hear me? Get dressed. Nod. Tell me you understand.” Drake told him, the man’s eyes wide with slight panic. Drake was never worried that Andrew would tell on him, but being caught in the act was enough to send the older boy into a worried craze.

Andrew finally nodded.

Drake released him and stood up to fetch his own belt, asides from that the older boy was still clothed. Only Andrew was bare. Drake gave him a hard stare which spoke in loud volumes, meaning hurry the hell up. The monster exited the room, shutting the door quietly behind him and leaving Andrew to get changed.

“Hey mom! AJ said he’ll be down in a second!” Drake’s voice called down to Cass.

Cass was surprised that her biological son was at home, but excitedly asked him to help as well.

Andrew took a deep breath and tried to forget everything.

Andrew could have lied to himself and said it was the guards banging on his stall that drove him out of his panicked state. He knew what saved him though, and it was the blood dripping from his arm onto the floor and washing down the drain.