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It was becoming too much.
It was all becoming way too much.
Riko was dead.
He had been for multiple months now.
Early summer practices had just begun, and the freshmen were set to be joining them in the coming weeks.
Everything was supposed to be alright now, right?
But…
Riko was dead.
Riko was dead and Kevin’s career still belonged to the Moriyamas.
Jean was gone, off to recoup and grow in California.
Andrew was…
Kevin wasn’t supposed to need Andrew anymore. There was nothing Kevin needed protecting from anymore. Riko was dead.
Beyond that, Kevin had given Andrew Exy. Kevin had brought Andrew Neil. Their deal was fulfilled. Their deal was done.
Andrew didn’t need to waste his time on Kevin anymore.
That meant that things were supposed to be alright, safe, normal. Kevin could now live his life how he was supposed to. His left hand had nearly recovered all its strength. He had the opportunity to rekindle his relationship with his father.
But Wymack still struggled to acknowledge his son. Some bitterness still remained.
It had been a kick to the gut when Kevin discovered that Neil had been appointed vice captain, and not him. Deep down, he knew that he wasn’t exactly captain material, but it still felt like betrayal, like a lack of trust.
And every moment on the court brought back memories.
Awful ones.
Playing with his left hand brought him thoughts of his time in the nest, the pain and suffering that was endured.
Playing with his right reminded him of how far he’d fallen. Of how far he still needed to climb.
He couldn’t help but sometimes think of where he’d be if he was still with Edgar Allen, if Riko had never broken his hand. If Riko hadn’t died.
It all just...
Hurt.
He’d been spiraling out of control since they’d won that fateful game, since the foxes had become champions. And Kevin knew this. He was surprisingly conscious of the dark places his mind had been taking him.
But he wouldn’t seek out help. No, he couldn’t. Because things were good. Things were better than good.
Weren’t they?
Someone banged on the bathroom door.
“Kevin, if you don’t get your ass out here in one minute, we’re leaving without you.” It was Neil’s voice, but Andrew’s sentiment.
In reality, Neil was probably more surprised than anything. Kevin was always eager to be early to practice, wasn’t he? Neil was bound to subject him to teasing for this.
Not that it would matter. Neil’s said worse to him.
But that was just Neil, wasn’t it? That was how Neil spoke. That was how Neil dealt with things. Kevin told himself this. Kevin assured himself of this.
But what did it matter in the long run.
The bottle of vodka on the counter was nearly empty. Kevin wasn’t sure when that had happened.
He had skipped his classes today.
That was new. Kevin hadn’t done that before. Getting his degree was important to him, right? Good grades meant he could keep playing Exy, right?
He wasn’t sure he knew anymore.
Reality was a blur.
Maybe he’d skip practice today too.
He heard some muttering outside the door. Andrew and Neil must’ve been discussing finally leaving Kevin behind, because shortly after, a door slammed shut and locked.
Now alone, Kevin moved without thinking.
He wasn’t sure he even wanted to, but he was in a trance. Something was compelling him to do this, and there was no longer anything inside him to stop him.
In a blur, hardly aware of himself, Kevin opened the bathroom cabinet and grabbed the first bottle that came to hand. He didn’t bother looking at what it was, just downing as much as he could, and following it with the last dregs of the vodka.
The danger of it all sent a burst of adrenaline through his body. And while he wasn’t sure he was even awake, he had the urge to do… something.
Maybe he would go to practice.
He’d spent his life on an Exy court after all. Why not head back there one last time.
Andrew knew something was going on the second he got in the car and smelled the alcohol on Kevin's body. If Kevin’s reluctance to leave for practice hadn’t set off alarm bells, this definitely had. Kevin, for as much as he drank, would never allow himself to get drunk before playing.
Andrew had done hardly more than raise an eyebrow at him though, through the rear view mirror, before driving off.
They arrived at the court five minutes late, but not even Neil complained. The clear feeling that something was off buzzed around them all.
Andrew ignored whatever it was Wymack had said to the group as they arrived. He didn’t care. For now, he just had his eyes on Kevin.
Andrew allowed goal after goal to be made on him. Despite standing at his post, he didn’t move his racket an inch from where it rested on his foot.
He expected Kevin to complain. He wanted Kevin to complain.
But Kevin said nothing.
He just continued to go through the motions of his drills, sloppy, unfocused.
“Kevin, if you’re sick, go sit out.”
That was Dan’s voice, carrying across the court. The rest of the team must’ve also been starting to notice the way Kevin’s body shook, the way his playing was unclean.
From all the way over at the goal, Andrew could see how Kevin shook his head, much too violently for what the gesture needed to be. This movement must’ve been too much, the tipping point, as Kevin then threw his hands to his helmet, scrambling to remove it as he collapsed to the floor.
Andrew didn’t know what the others were doing. They didn’t matter. All that seemed clear to him in that moment was getting to Kevin’s side.
He hadn't intended to run, but it seemed he did anyways.
“Kevin.”
The striker didn’t reply.
“Kevin.” Andrew’s voice was considerably more firm this time.
Kevin shifted a little. He was on his side, twisted and curled, his hands finding nothing as he tried to grasp at the smooth court floor. The only sound in Andrew’s ears was that of Kevin’s ragged breathing, much too shallow.
Andrew crouched down at his side, and hovered a hand over Kevin’s head. Through the grate, he could see how his face was scrunched, his cheeks burnt red, and his hair slicked to his forehead with sweat that had nothing to do with playing sports.
“Kevin. I’m going to take off your helmet.”
Andrew waited a moment for protest before doing just that. It came off with ease, as Kevin had already managed to unbuckle it.
Kevin ground his teeth closed as the helmet came off, all breath coming through his nose. Andrew watched as he visibly held back a gag.
Andrew almost didn’t want to put together the pieces.
But he couldn’t deny the conclusion that was coming to him.
Reaching out a steady hand, Andrew gently tapped Kevin’s cheek, once, twice. His skin was cold, clammy, painfully so.
Kevin finally struggled to turn his head to meet Andrew’s eyes. The usually intense green was clouded, foggy, distant. Like he was leaving.
“Tell me I’m wrong.” Andrew was curt.
Kevin turned away the little amount that he could, shutting his eyes. It was as much of an answer as Andrew needed.
Kevin’s body suddenly spasmed and twisted painfully as he swallowed down another urge to vomit.
Andrew’s stomach felt heavy, an ugly feeling that he didn’t want to address. He didn’t have time for that.
Instead, he spoke. “Kevin, if you don’t let yourself throw up, I’ll stick my fist down your throat.” I won’t let you do this to yourself.
Kevin replied uncharacteristically. He groaned, almost a whimper
Andrew bit back the urge to touch him, to rest a hand on his shoulder.
He didn’t need to make his own distraction though. A beat later, he registered his brother, kneeling down at his side.
“What is it,” were the simple words out of Aaron’s mouth, more of a statement than a question.
Andrew didn’t take his eyes off of Kevin.
“The idiot overdosed.”
Aaron might’ve sworn under his breath. Andrew didn’t know. He blocked out all the other reactions from his teammates as much as he could. Movement happened around him. Voices spoke. Call an ambulance. Get Abby. Get Wymack.
Through the chaos, an odd, weak noise sounded, directed itself straight into Andrew's heart.
“I’m sorry.”
What?
Andrew had nearly missed it.
“Don’t ever say that again.” Andrew decided.
If this didn’t kill Kevin, then Andrew would.
Kevin was suddenly gagging again, choking on his own throat. He couldn't… he couldn’t breathe.
Andrew hesitated, fighting with himself. He couldn’t…
“Kevin, I’m going to help you.” How? Andrew wasn’t sure. It was more of a warning of contact than anything.
He let his instincts take over, battling away the stress induced tunnel vision. He let his hands grip Kevin’s shoulders, holding him up on his side while he coughed.
He coughed and he coughed and Andrew pushed his head back to help open up his airway, but it only subsided a little.
People started approaching them, Andrew could see in his periphery. He clenched his hand tight on Kevin’s shoulder, a show of protection. He shot his head up, ready to face-
“It’s just me.” Abby slowly lowered herself to the ground, a hand out, ready to take Andrew’s place. Neil was right there behind her, having gone and fetched her. He was the fastest.
“Andrew.” Neil nodded, taking two steps away, hoping for the blond to follow.
Andrew sent his view back to Kevin, and then to Abby, adding it up in his head. He studied for a moment the various supplies in her hands, and convinced himself of his trust in his team nurse over and over again.
A hand brushed against the back of Andrew’s neck, barely there, and he whipped his head around to find himself looking back up at Neil.
“Come on,” Neil said. “Let her help him.”
Andrew finally stood, allowing Neil to pull him away from the scene.
It was now that those ugly feelings hit hard, twisting and pulling and tearing at his insides.
He did not like it.
Andrew did not like it one bit.
He felt sick.
Not sick like Kevin, not sick like coming off of his meds, but sick like…
Sick like the sick he had come to associate with a certain city up in Maryland.
Andrew pushed past Neil, taking long strides to exit the court.
He pushed past Wymack, who looked more terrified than he’d ever seen him.
He pushed through the locker room, hearing sirens pulling up outside.
He didn’t know where he was headed. He just wanted to be somewhere other than the here and now.
Kevin padded his way into the dorm’s kitchen, fumbling for a glass. It was some god-awful hour in the morning and sleep had eluded him. He’d been released from the hospital earlier that afternoon, sent home to recover with prescription medication that made him feel ill to think about.
He still felt weak, sick, like his entire existence could shatter if the wind blew on him the wrong way.
Trembling hands lifted his glass to the sink, filling it with water. Someone had gone through and purged the dorm room of any alcohol in preparation for his return. Even Andrew had made a point of not drinking for the time being. Some solidarity that was.
He downed the glass in one go, and it immediately sat heavy in his stomach. Kevin let his feet take him to the sitting area, and allowed himself to collapse into one of the bean bag chairs.
His hands were shaking, and he wanted to believe it was just because he was cold.
Wymack had offered for him to stay at his apartment while he recovered, but Kevin had turned him down.
He wasn’t sure if he could bare his father’s saddened gaze for one moment longer.
Wymack had stayed with him each day he was stuck in a hospital bed, but they had hardly spoke. Not about anything important, anyways.
It was painful in its own way. Kevin knew he would grow to appreciate this show of care and concern, but...
He wished there had been more.
He craved for more, he realized, for that love and affection that he hadn’t experienced since his mother had passed.
It was something he was learning he needed.
“Forget that the doctor prescribed rest, Day?”
The voice almost made Kevin jump out of his skin.
Andrew walked into view and sat himself down on the arm of the couch. “Don’t look too surprised. Just checking to make sure you’re still alive. Coach wouldn’t be too happy with me otherwise.”
That bit into Kevin more than he was expecting.
“Oh, so you only bother with me because ‘coach’ told you to.” Kevin dug his hands into his armpits, hoping to hide the way they trembled. He almost missed the slight cock of Andrew’s head as he considered these words.
After a beat, Andrew finally replied.
“You’re one of mine,” was what he said.
He let the silence grow, allowing those words to stew in Kevin’s head.
A moment later, Andrew got back up with a start. “The pieces are all there, Kevin. Start picking them up.”
Kevin thought about it.
He thought about all the short comings in his relationships.
He thought about his dad. He thought about Neil. He thought about his teammates. He thought about Andrew.
He thought about his mom.
He thought about himself.
“Not all of them,” Kevin admitted. He couldn’t help but sound utterly defeated.
Andrew stopped in his tracks where he was heading back to the bedroom, and turned and looked at Kevin. His eyes were dark, heavy, and somehow, warm.
“We will work on it.”
As Andrew left to go back to bed, Kevin had to replay his words in his head.
We .
Andrew had said “we.”
And that meant more than Kevin could begin to understand.