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“Has Andrew hit you before?” Bee’s tone is too gentle, it makes Neil’s skin itch. He leans back against the chair in an effort to put more distance between them. He’s sure she’ll jot his actions down in a notebook later.
Neil thinks he can escape therapy by becoming one with my chair, she’ll write. I wonder if he knows how dumb he looks.
“Of course not.” Neil says, his words biting enough that Bee raises a gentle brow. “You know Andrew, he’s not exactly one for domestic violence.”
“Domestic violence is tricky, Neil. It's not black and white, it could be normal for long periods of time, and then just for a few days it could be hell on earth.” Bee says, her mug too big in her hands. He wants to smack it off, he doesn’t want to be here.
“It’s not that, I know that.” Neil says, he pulls his sleeve down where the bruises peek out. They’re still freshly purple from the day before. He hasn’t seen Andrew yet. Abby had been called in by Wymack who had been called in by Kevin.
Wymack and Bee had waited outside of Andrew’s room for three hours before Wymack had been kicked out and Bee had been let into Andrew’s room. Abby had nearly knocked down Neil’s door when she came to check on him.
“Did he hurt you anywhere else?” She had asked, eyes frantic as she resisted the urge to pat him down. Wymack set a comforting hand on her shoulder as he answered.
No, he didn’t hurt me anywhere else. No, he’s never hit me before. Aside from when I first got here. That was a joke. I’m fine, I’m fine, I’m fine.
But Abby had sent him to Bee anyway, with explicit instructions to take a painkiller if it hurt, and to ice his wrist.
Bee had looked sorry. She had opened the door with a near apologetic look in her eyes as she offered him some tea. He took the tea because at least it wasn’t hot chocolate.
“Did he apologize?”
“Andrew doesn’t apologize.” Neil states the obvious, and Bee nods. He wonders if people expected this from Andrew. He knows all of them look at Andrew like they’re expecting him to blow, like they’ve always expected him to be violent.
A monster.
“You know Andrew.” Neil says “He wouldn’t-” hurt me... fades from his tongue
He pauses because ….
He wouldn’t? He already did.
“Neil,” Bee sighs and he realizes that he didn’t know Bee loved Andrew until now. At least Andrew had one mother now. “I know that my relationship with Andrew is close, but I don’t want you to feel like you can’t tell me anything.”
“I don’t.” Neil shifts in his seat and then sighs “I just don’t understand why he-” He cuts himself off again, suddenly feeling too warm and too cold at once. Another deep breath and:
“He never used to touch me to hurt me. He always asked before even kissing me, and now?” He never thought he’d ever confide in a shrink, but now it's like he can’t stop himself. Maybe it's because Betsy loves Andrew too.
“When people used to touch me- my dad and even my mom only touched me to hurt me. When Andrew did it-” Neil stops because he doesn't know what to say. Bee frowned in understanding.
“I don’t know. While it was happening I wasn’t scared of him, more scared for him because I thought he was having a flashback. But now, I feel… confused. Betrayed a little.” Neil wraps his hand around his bruised wrist, and wonders if he would’ve enjoyed it had Andrew asked yes or no.
“That’s understandable.” Bee nods “Andrew is a person you are close with. When people you love and trust hurt you it makes sense to feel like you’ve been betrayed.”
Love? Neil feels ridiculous thinking about it. A silly four letter Hallmark word that existed only ominously to him. But that is what it was, wasn’t it? What he felt for Andrew. Something his parents never had. Something that existed only in movies, and musicals.
It was a small flame cradled in his chest. Something that could burn him out of existence. Something more painful than Baltimore.
“When he realized he was hurting me, I don’t think I have ever seen him more scared.” Neil says. Something in Bee relaxes, and he wonders if Andrew had actually talked to her when he had let her into his room.
“I know mostly everyone thinks he’s dangerous, and he is, but not without provocation. And I think he was provoked.” Neil feels the warmness of the mug seep into his palms even as it gets colder.
“Can you explain to me what you mean by provoked?” Bee says, her voice takes on an uncertain tone. Neil mentally snorts at the thought that she may be under the impression that Neil is some sort of battered housewife who defends their abuser.
“When he hurt me, he called me rabbit. He calls me that when he thinks I’m about to run.” Neil explains “I think that's why he did what he did.”
“Do you want to talk about what happened?” Bee asks, and again he realizes that apart from Andrew, he is the only one who actually knows what happened. Neil sighs and tries to melt into the chair again.
“I went into the dorm to look for my maths textbook after I moved out. Andrew wasn’t supposed to be there but he was so I ignored him. Then I called Matt’s dorm my own and he called me rabbit. That's when he grabbed me,” Neil shrugs “And then Kevin called you.”
“May I ask what caused you to move out?” Bee asks. Neil guesses Andrew hasn’t been talking to his therapist. Maybe that's why he snapped in the first place.
“He was with someone else.” Neil says, and his heart clenches at the thought of Andrew’s hands on someone else. He wonders if Roland had spared a thought to Neil. If he had kept his hands to himself.
Bee looks disappointed and understanding, but not surprised. She’s privy to Andrew’s self destructive ways, after all.
“Andrew cheated on you?” Betsy asks.
“He didn’t cheat on me.” Neil sighs “We would have had to be dating for that to happen.”
“So you and Andrew were not an item?” Betsy asks and Neil really wonders if Andrew has been talking to his therapist at all. Maybe it wasn’t that important to him.
“Well, if you ask Andrew there is no this .” Neil says, a bit of a cruel mocking smile on his lips. “And that's why he went into the backroom of a club with his old hook up and then acted like an asshole about it when I tried to talk to him about it.”
“And how did that make you feel?” Bee asks and he snorts so hard at the stereotypical question he thinks he cracks a rib. Bee looks surprised for a second before she realizes what she said and shakes her head.
Neil gets himself under control, and wonders if she put something in his drink because what the hell was he doing talking to Betsy Dobson?
“Hurt.”
What in the world was happening? Why was he doing this?
“Hurt?” Bee asks and she leans forward, empathy radiating from her. Neil wonders if this is weird for her, seeing as Andrew is practically her son.
“Yeah, I mean… I always knew that what we had was nothing to him. Having it confirmed though?”
“Have you talked to Andrew since yesterday?” Bee asks, and probably notes how he’s still tracing his bruised skin.
“No, I figured I’d stay away for now and if he wants to talk then he can come to me. I think I’ve chased after him long enough.” Neil kicks at the carpet bitterly. Childishly, but still justified by indignation.
“Chasing after him?” Bee pokes.
“I think I’m pretty much the only one who’s been trying with this. Andrew is too busy being cool and uncaring.” Neil knows that's not fair, he knows that Andrew is only like this because he has issues, and that he did use to put in some effort when it really mattered, but-
“I think we need to talk. Andrew and me, when he’s ready, and won’t freak out.” Neil finally says, because apparently therapy is somewhat helpful. Not that he planned on coming back any time soon.
“I think that closure is a great idea, Neil.” Betsy smiles
“Yeah.” Neil sighs. “Closure.”
Closure doesn’t come until after the bruises fade. Neil is ninety nine percent sure that it was on purpose, because Nicky and Aaron keep glancing at his wrists like they’re trying to for subtle but fail miserably.
Neil tries to keep the annoyance to a minimum when Nicky pulls out his phone the day not a mark is to be seen, and texts -who Neil assumes to be- Andrew.
His beliefs are confirmed via a phone call from Bee. Which is-
Odd. Very odd.
His phone wakes him up from a tired slumber brought on by a midnight run. He hadn’t been able to sleep after the not so subtle planning between Andrew’s lot, nervous anticipation biting at him, so he’d gone and ran until he finally passed out at three a.m.
The phone scares the crap out of him, and he wonders when he got so lax about his safety while sleeping. He reaches for his phone and wishes he had let it die when he feels sleep attempt to drag him back down. He flips open the phone and answers without thinking.
“Hello?” He answers with a frown. Sleep. Sleep. He wants sleep .
“Hello, Neil. It's Betsy Dobson.” A cheery voice says from the other side. He frowns at the clock and runs a hand through his hair. He’s too warm for this.
“Betsy?” Neil yawns “It's six in the morning, what could possibly be important at this hour?”
“Andrew.” Betsy says, and Neil pauses at that.
“Andrew?”
“Yes, Andrew has requested a therapy session with you.” Betsy says.
“What?” Was Neil hallucinating? “Couples therapy?”
“Yes, you could say that.” He can practically hear her smile over the phone. He lays back down on the bed with a tired sigh. “But Neil,” She says, a sudden serious tone in her voice “Andrew wants me to make it clear that you don’t have to.”
“What do you mean?”
“It means that he’s willing to transfer to another school if that's what you want.” Bee says, and though she keeps her tone professional, she’s not a good enough liar that he doesn’t notice the hint of sadness of her tone.
“He what ?” Neil shoots up in bed, suddenly wide awake. Because what? Andrew would what ?
“Neil, are you okay?” Bee asks after a quiet awkwardness.
“When?” Neil asks because he has to talk Andrew out of whatever craziness he’s conjured up in his head. Transferring? Andrew had a life in Palmetto, classes he didn’t hate, a future at his fingertips which he could do anything with.
“Whenever you want, there is no rush.” Bee says.
“Is now okay?”
Now was okay, apparently, according to the muffled conversation on the other side of the phone. Neil rushed through his dorm, brushing his teeth as he got ready. He shoved himself into some grey sweats and a Palmetto hoodie, putting on his running shoes in the hall.
So far, he and a few other students were the only ones up and awake on campus. He ran past a girl pouring an energy drink into her espresso while she narrated Jane Austen and the quadratic formula.
He gets to Bee’s office in record time, and hesitates outside the door. He knocks and waits with his heart in his hands. Betsy opens the food with a smile and ushers him inside with a soft “Hello, Neil.”
Neil shuffles in awkwardly and briefly considers that he may have rushed into his decision to see Andrew. The hesitation fades when he spots the tense blond in the corner of the room, as far away as possible.
“Hey, Andrew.”