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Neil was quiet. Irritatingly so. For Andrew, it was bad enough when he had to listen to him go on and on about an honestly boring sport, but he could admit to himself that it was always worse when he was like this. Truthfully, Andrew was fine with not talking, and he and Neil often sat in silence for hours before any of them felt compelled to say anything.
That was not what this was.
Now, Neil was distant. It was clear in the way he looked – or not looked – at things. Andrew just knew that he wasn't there.
Because Andrew was not anybody's keeper (anymore) he let Neil be. He told himself it was actually not his business at all, no matter that he was the one who had to carry a sad exy junkie around, or look at that stupidly gorgeous face as it stared longingly into the distance.
Today, Neil had even been off at the Court, failing shots that he normally would not have sweat over and ignoring his team's concern as if he didn't even see it. Knowing him, Andrew thought as he flicked off the excessive ash in his cigarette, he probably didn't. After all, Neil had a gift for glancing over the obvious, even if he was still able to spot things most people would not.
He probably would miss the elephant in the room as he found the needle in the haystack, Andrew mused.
Beside him, Neil tensed, catching Andrew's attention once more. He was studying the smoke of Andrew's cigarette with that far-away look in his eyes that meant he was thinking of his mother. Yes, Andrew was able to identify those by now.
'Do you want one?' He asked, his tone bored. They were sitting on the roof, and Neil had not even glanced Andrew's way yet.
Neil's gaze moved from the smoke to Andrew with difficulty, but it stayed there. His blue eyes blinked a couple times before responding.
'No,' he said, as Andrew knew he would.
Andrew's response was to put out his own cigarette, even if his body still craved the nicotine.
'You didn't have to do that,' Neil mumbled, going back to look at the view. It was the most he'd heard him speak all day.
'I know.'
They stayed in silence for a few more minutes but, again, the quiet was wrong.
'What is it?' Andrew finally asked, because he'd already guessed that Neil was not going to be the one to start talking, even if it was obvious that he wanted to. Neil was like that, he needed to talk things out to deal with them.
He shook his head, and sent a sideways look at him before talking. 'I told you about my mother,' he said quietly. Yes, Neil had told him about her, which was why Andrew felt his eyes narrowing at her sole mention. He was not at all impressed by Mary Hatford.
'What about her?'
'Today's her birthday,' Neil said, his expression empty.
Andrew hummed, unsure about what it was that Neil wanted from him. He was thinking about his next answer when Neil continued. 'I just –' he cut himself short.
'What?'
'I just can't stop thinking. About that day.' He had closed his eyes, as if the words hurt on the way out. 'When they finally caught up with us and how she fought all the way till the end. How I –' His body curled in on itself a little. 'The thing is. She did that, got me out of there. She did everything.'
'She hit you,' Andrew said, his voice cold.
'She saved me.' The words were raw. 'Time and time again. And the thing is,' he repeated, and his voice shook slightly. 'I can't help but be glad that she didn't live long enough to reach another birthday. I feel glad that she's dead.' His voice didn't break with the confession, but his body started shaking. 'She wouldn't have let me stay,' he continued. 'She wouldn't have let me –' He let in a shuddering breath and stopped talking altogether, his breathing not rushed but artificial, as if he had to coach in and out every gulp of air. He didn't look at Andrew.
He did not hesitate as he put a hand on Neil's neck.
'It doesn't matter what she would or wouldn't have let you do,' his mouth seemed to spit the word, even if his face or voice didn't change at all. 'She's dead, and you're not,' he said simply.
'I threw away all her sacrifices. She did it all for me, and I–' He was still not looking at Andrew. He understood that this was the heart of the problem, that Neil felt he had dishonored his abusive mother by living instead of just staying alive. No matter that he had actually managed the second one better than she ever could.
'She deserved to die.' It was simple for Andrew. The second she had started putting those stupid ideas in Neil's head with well-placed blows she had stopped being worth the air she breathed, in Andrew's eyes.
That made Neil finally look at him, a frown in his eyes.
'She was no better than your dad.' He ignored Neil's flinch. 'She was no better than Tilda.'
Neil's expression softened slightly, and Andrew wondered what stupid idea about Andrew's psyche he had gotten now in his head. He repressed an eye-roll and took another cigarette out, letting go of Neil's neck.
'The fact that you think you caused the death of a woman who chose to marry a murderous mobster is just slightly stupider than your average ideas,' he said as he lit up. His voice was bored as he continued. 'One might even argue that she was the one who put you in all those dangerous situations she had to save you from in the first place.' And she hadn't even been the one to save him at all, in the end. That had been all Neil.
Neil was looking at him like he had just showed him a new world, and Andrew suspected that he had never thought about it this way. He offered him a cigarette, and Neil took it distractedly, his eyes still looking at Andrew in that stupid way of his.
'Staring,' he said, but didn't even try to move Neil's face away.
'Yeah,' he whispered. 'Thank you.'
Andrew did roll his eyes, this time.
'Yes or no?' He asked before Neil could go back to sulking about something as wasteful as his mother. Andrew knew that he hadn't completely smothered off Neil's guilt or grief, he knew that he couldn't. But having lifted that fog from his eyes was enough for today, for now.
Neil's lips curled slightly upwards.
'Yes.'