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The hotel was one of the swankiest places that Andrew had ever visited. While the majority of the Foxes would have been fine crashing at a hostel or low star motel Allison Reynolds was having none of it. It was summer, just after classes had ended, and the team was vacationing in New York City, staying in suites at a five star hotel that was Allison’s favorite. It was overkill but since Andrew wasn’t footing the bill he kept his commentary to himself.
Nicky let out a loud whoop and cannonballed into the pool, splashing Allison and Dan in the process. Andrew was sitting on the opposite side of the pool, near the shallow end. He tapped his cigarette against the ashtray and turned another page in his novel. Despite the cajoling of the rest of the team, especially his obnoxious cousin, Andrew had no plans to get in the water. Neil was sitting in the shallow end, the water reaching his chest. He watched the others with interest but was unwilling to move into deeper water, even when Renee offered to get him a float and spot him.
They were being entirely too loud. Thanks to Allison’s bribery they were allowed to swim after the pool closed. When the attendant left for the night she had turned a blind eye to the bottles of liquor they brought with them. Kevin had already been sidelined because he wouldn’t stop drinking and he was no longer safe to be in the pool. He was sprawled in a pool chair next to Andrew, staring moodily at the ceiling.
Andrew sipped his whiskey and watched Neil. Even though they all knew about Neil’s scarring he still wore a shirt in the pool, the black fabric billowing around him. He was wearing a pair of black swim trunks too, his legs were pulled up to his chest and he had wrapped his arms around them. From here he looked like a little kid who was hiding out in the shallow end. Andrew hadn’t asked why Neil was unwilling to go out into deeper water and the other Foxes had given up an hour ago.
“Neil!!” Nicky had swum from the deep end and was floating on his back near the small striker. “C’mon out here! The water is so niiiiiice! Look! I can do a handstand!” Nicky demonstrated his skill, doing a rather lopsided handstand in the deeper water. It was possible that Nicky needed to be sidelined, too. He popped up a few seconds later and swam over to Neil, grinning and pleased with himself.
Neil said something that Andrew couldn’t hear and Andrew went back to his book. The hitman was on the run from his enemies and it was just getting to a really good fight…
Frantic splashing and a sharp yell from Renee brought Andrew out of his story, his eyes immediately going to Neil—but Neil wasn’t there. Instead Nicky was holding someone under, laughing— Andrew jumped to his feet, already moving.
It happened so fast. One second Neil was under the water, the next he was on his feet, pushing Nicky beneath the surface, pinning him to the bottom of the pool. Most of their teammates seemed drunkenly oblivious but Renee was moving towards them, a panicked look on her face. Nicky was thrashing beneath the water, his legs kicking at Neil, fingernails scraping down his arms but Neil didn’t let him up. Andrew crashed through the water towards him, yelling.
“Neil! Stop!”
But Neil was gone. Andrew didn’t know what persona was now in charge but whoever it was was intent on drowning Nicky. Renee was almost to them.
“Renee, stay back!” Andrew shouted. He was almost there, almost there… this close and he could see that not only did Neil have Nicky underwater but his hands were wrapped around Nicky’s throat, squeezing. Nicky’s movements were sluggish; he was running out of oxygen.
Andrew came up behind Neil and wrapped his arms around him, pulling back and leveraging Neil off his feet. Neil’s hands went slack and Nicky slipped out of his grip. Renee was there in an instant, pulling Nicky out of the pool, checking him over but Andrew didn’t have time for that. Neil was fighting him, shouting, kicking.
“DON’T TOUCH ME!”
The entire team was staring. Neil elbowed Andrew in the gut, the air whooshing out of him but he didn’t let go.
“Neil.” He said the word quietly but with intent. “Neil Abram Josten. Are you in there?”
Neil kicked him in the shin. His fingernails clawed at Andrew’s arms but met the armbands instead of flesh. This seemed to frustrate and confuse him and he yelled again, his voice harsh and unfamiliar.
“Don’t fucking touch me!”
Andrew had managed to navigate them almost out of the pool. He said Neil’s name one more time and then let him go, moving rapidly out of Neil’s strike zone.
The boy facing him was not Neil Josten. He wasn’t Nathaniel, either. He looked like he was about to make a run for it.
Andrew backed up; speaking to Renee, “Get everyone out.” He could hear the Foxes quickly, and quietly, fleeing. Then it was just him and the boy who was Neil but wasn’t.
Andrew moved slowly, down onto the smooth tiles, pulling his legs up until he was sitting with his legs criss-crossed, his open palms resting on his knees. Neil was still standing ankle deep in water, panting. His eyes were dilated and distant, his hands curled into tight fists. Andrew wanted to go to him, to touch his face and remind him of who he was, who they were, but Neil had said not to touch him and he wouldn’t.
They remained in a tense stare off until Neil’s breathing had evened out and his posture had relaxed. Andrew felt like he was in the presence of a prey animal, one too wary to take its eyes off a potential threat. Just like a rabbit. This rabbit knew how to use its teeth and nails, though.
“Who are you?” Andrew asked, voice calm and even.
Neil tilted his head the slightest bit, eyes narrowing.
“Neil?” Andrew prompted.
A hurt sound, like a whine came from Neil and he crumpled, going to his knees in the shallow water. He folded over, shuddering, quiet cries echoing in the empty room.
“Andrew?” Neil’s voice was rough. “Andrew?”
“I’m here.” He waited nearby.
Neil cried loudly, gasping. “Come… get me…”
Andrew was at his side in a moment, kneeling in front of him. “I’m here,” he repeated. “What do you need?”
“I don’t—I don’t know!” More sobs. “I don’t want to be in the water…”
“Okay. Is it okay if I touch you?” Neil nodded. “Tell me yes or no, Neil.”
“Y-y-yes.” Neil was shivering, his teeth chattering. Andrew placed a careful hand on the back of his neck, pushed his fingers into Neil’s wet hair, petting him, letting him get used to his touch.
It took several minutes for Andrew to coax Neil to uncurl, several minutes of rubbing his back and shoulders, talking to him quietly, reminding him of who he was. When Neil was ready Andrew pulled him close, draping Neil’s arms around his shoulders.
“Hold onto me,” Andrew said. “I’m gonna lift you up.” Neil had his forehead pressed into Andrew’s neck. His skin felt cold, colder than it should after being in the warm pool. Andrew got his hands under Neil’s thighs and carefully stood up. With his wet clothes Neil felt heavier than usual, dead weight in Andrew’s arms, his legs dangling limply around Andrew’s waist. Usually Andrew would nag at Neil for being useless but not now. He was baffled by Neil’s violent reaction and all he wanted was to get his boyfriend wrapped up in warm towels and safe in their suite.
The hotel was quiet, most of the guests in bed or out in the city. Andrew was conscious of the water they were dripping in the elevator and down the hall but he figured the posh hotel could deal with it. He fumbled for the keycard in his back pocket, shifting Neil a little. Neil didn’t so much as make a noise. Andrew didn’t think he was asleep; it was more likely that he was in shock.
Andrew padded through the bedroom to the large bathroom, carrying Neil into the shower, holding him close.
“I’m going to turn on the shower. We need to warm you up.” Neil whimpered again and Andrew placed a hand against the back of his head, petting his hair. “I won’t let you go. I’m right here.” He turned on the faucet, warm water raining down on them. Neil started crying again. Andrew had to brace his back against the shower wall; he had been holding Neil for a while and it was starting to tire him.
They stayed in the shower until Andrew was too weary to keep standing. He shut off the water and pulled a towel off the rack and draped it around Neil, carried him to the bedroom and set Neil and the towel down on the bed. Neil immediately curled up in the towel, his eyes squeezed shut. Andrew didn’t think he would be able to undress Neil when he was this freaked out so he quickly changed into his pajamas and settled down next to Neil, pulling him over until Neil’s head was resting in his lap. He placed one hand on Neil’s neck, the other on his back.
“Get some rest, Neil.”
Neil didn’t go to sleep for a long time but eventually Andrew felt the tension melt from his body. Andrew didn’t sleep, didn’t move, not even when Neil’s weight made his legs go to sleep.
Sometime during the night Renee came by to update him on Nicky’s condition: he was freaked out and his throat was bruised but he would be okay.
“He would have killed him,” Renee whispered, her eyes fixed on Neil.
“Probably,” Andrew murmured. His fingers threaded through Neil’s damp hair. “Josten may be a rabbit but it’s a bad idea to corner him.”
“Nicky feels awful about it. He’s worried. We’re all worried.”
Andrew nodded, still gazing at Neil. “He’ll be okay. Tell everyone to give us the day, no interruptions, no calls. We’ll work it out.”
—–
The next morning was difficult. After Neil got up to use the bathroom he locked himself in there and wouldn’t come out. It took hours of talking to him through the door until Andrew was able to get the story out of him. Of course the villain was Nathan.
Neil told a broken, harrowing tale of childhood abuse, some of which included his father holding him down in the bathtub, drowning him and bringing him back only to push him under again. And again and again. The punishment could be for anything or nothing and when Nathaniel fought back it was worse. The body naturally fights against drowning; it wasn’t something young Nathaniel could control. His drownings usually ended when Nathaniel was too worn out to fight anymore or when he had sustained other injuries that incapacitated him: concussions from knocking his head against the tub, dislocated shoulders, pulled muscles.
Andrew listened, his hands fisted, wishing he had been the one to kill Nathan. By all accounts that evil bastard’s death had been far too quick.
“Is Nicky alright?” Neil’s voice was hoarse, strained.
“He will be,” Andrew replied. He blew smoke into the air; it was a nonsmoking room but there was no fucking way he was leaving Neil to take a smoke break.
“Fuck,” Neil whispered. “I’m just like him…”
“You’re not.” Andrew projected as much authority and certainty as he could. “You are Neil Abram Josten. You are a starting striker for the Palmetto State Foxes. You are no one but yourself and you arenot your father. You can talk to Bee about this later but she’ll tell you the same thing.”
The door creaked opened and Andrew looked in. Neil was sitting with his back against the shower door. His eyes were shadowed and blank. It had been a long time since Andrew had seen Neil look so beaten.
Andrew went to him, opening his arms and Neil crawled forward, collapsing against him.
“What would I do without you?” Neil murmured.
“Oh, I’m sure you’d be just fine,” Andrew replied, testing Neil’s state of mind. To his relief Neil snorted softly.
“You know me…” he sighed.
“…you’re always fine,” Andrew finished for him.
They sat on the floor of the bathroom, arms wrapped around each other, breaths in synch. After an unknown amount of time Neil tightened his arms around Andrew and whispered in his ear, “Thank you.”
Andrew tousled Neil’s hair, “Any time.”