Chapter Text
All the foxes came to see Nicky.
They all knew about his disease, even though it took a while for Nicky to tell them. When Neil called Matt, everyone found a way to meet them in Columbia.
The hospital room was small but, instead of feeling uncomfortable, Andrew felt oddly comforted by the close presence of his old teammates. He kept in touch with them all, more because of Neil than anything else. It was nice, he came to realise, having people to be there, people to come to you when you call.
The conversation unravelled easily. That was just the way things were with the foxes, it didn’t matter who much time or distance they spent apart, they had gone through enough together that awkward small talk never took place when they reunited.
It wasn’t long until the room was bubbling with talking. Andrew watched as Nicky laughed. He was in obvious pain, but he smiled brightly when Aaron’s daughters squeezed beside him and Erik on top of the bed. His smile got even bigger when Dan and Matt’s toddler joined them.
Kevin and Thea are expecting a girl, Andrew thought. Nicky will never get to meet her.
“We should take a picture!” Dan yelled from her place on the edge of the bed.
“Wait!” Alisson said, scrambling for her makeup bag. “What? At least someone has to look good.” Renee punched her shoulder, smiling at her girlfriend.
Nicky waved them over, so they all positioned themselves around the bed while one of the nurses took the picture on Alisson’s phone.
Later that day, after they were all asleep in the same room - just like they did when Neil came back - Andrew stayed up staring at the picture Alisson sent to their group chat.
No one changed much since their Palmetto days. They looked just like the kids they were in college, just a little more put together. His throat tightened - something that seemed to be happening too much in a short amount of time -, seeing them all there together with the knowledge that, not long from now, they would never be complete again did something weird to his gut.
Nicky passed away on a sunny day.
Andrew thought it was only fitting, Nicky deserved a pretty last day. He was always smiling, always happy, always trying his best to lighten up the room. Even on his last days, he didn’t seem as sad as Andrew knew he was.
I’m feeling better. He said that morning. Maybe It was just a scare and I’ll get to go home for a few weeks.
The day before he died, Nicky sat down with Erik outside and they watched as some of the kids in treatment played in the grass. It was spring and the hospital garden was filled with flowers. Andrew was sitting on the other side of the garden with Neil by his side when he realized that Nicky - who was always so good with kids, who always dreamt of having a big, loving family - would never get the chance to have his own children.
He watched as Erik placed a flower crown in Nicky’s head. Watched as Nicky rested his frail and tired body in Erik’s arms. Watched as Erik kissed Nicky’s head again and again and again.
It wasn’t fair.
Most things never are.
“Where do we go from here?” Aaron asked from where he was standing, just outside the door of Andrew’s old bedroom in Columbia.
Andrew raised his head to look at his brother. Even after all these years, it still was a little surprising to him when they talked about… anything. They had come a long way from their college years. Their relationship still needed work, - it would probably always need - all the same, knowing he had his brother by his side, and not because of a promise, a deal, but because he wanted to be there, because he chose to stay, made Andrew feel a type of content he wasn’t familiar with.
“I don’t know.” He admitted. Ever since his cousin died, Andrew didn’t have any idea of what to do or how to act. They only started keeping up with each other’s life when Nicky got sick and that was six months ago, yet it seemed like Nicky not being there anymore shifted something fundamental in Andrew’s life.
That’s the thing about death no one talks about - it doesn’t just leave you disoriented. Even when it’s expected, death takes away something structural, something steady. Something you were sure of. Losing someone - not even someone you love, just someone who is a constant presence - is like walking up a staircase and raising your feet to meet a step that isn’t there. For a few moments - in this case, for however long grief takes - you lose your entire balance.
Where do we go from here?
“The girls asked about him today.” Aaron cleared his throat, sitting on the mattress. “‘Dad, how come uncle Nicky won’t be coming back home? He wouldn’t miss our birthday, would he?’” He let a puff of air out of his nose. “What the fuck do you say to that?”
Weirdly, Andrew could understand it.
Everything since yesterday seemed too real and at the same time not real at all. Andrew didn’t even say anything at the funeral, he stared and gripped Neil’s hand the whole time. Even during Erik’s speech, even when Aaron started sobbing, even when his own face became wet, he couldn’t bring himself to feel anything. The sadness was under a veil, he could see it and acknowledge its presence but it still wasn’t enough to feel it entirely.
But the image of his nieces, asking for someone that wouldn’t come back was enough to release the emotion in its full force. Maybe because seeing kids be sad always made something ugly and bad stir inside Andrew’s stomach. Maybe because he saw too much of him in them.
Nicky was his cousin, his family. He didn’t raise Andrew but he kept him safe, which was more than most of his foster parents could say. In all the years they lived like a family, Andrew never let himself rely on Nicky, even so, Nicky’s presence was always there. Andrew knew that if he fell, his cousin would be there to catch him. And now Nicky was gone and Andrew felt like a two-year-old, waiting for his cousin to walk through the door any moment.
“What did you tell them?”
“The truth.”
“Some good parenting you have there.” Andrew deadpanned.
“I sugarcoated it, okay?” Aaron protested, punching his shoulder. “I’m a good dad.”
“Still have my doubts about that.”
Aaron laughed, it was a quick, almost inaudible, push of air through his nose. But it was enough to break the cold hanging between them since Nicky died.
“We should do it now,” Aaron said. “Before it gets too late to drive back home.”
Andrew followed his brother into the tiny attic. Before dying, Nicky sorted out some of the stuff they had left in the house after everyone graduated. He planned on going through the boxes with them, Erik said. Apparently, there were some things from their childhoods there.
The attic smells like mould and dust, it made Andrew’s nose twitch and sneeze. It was darker than he remembered it, the lightbulb hanging from the ceiling didn’t do much to help illuminate the small room.
Aaron turned his phone flashlight on, using it to guide them. The first thing Andrew noticed now that he could actually see what was in front of him was the scribbling and the drawings on the walls.
The drawings were clearly made by an unskilled kid, but Andrew could see the shadows of Aaron’s sharp trace in them. Aaron’s drawings were always a bit dark and... intriguing - for lack of a better word - but these had an agony to them that shouldn’t belong to a kid. And the words and sentences written around them-
“I used to come up here a lot,” Aaron said, quietly. He pursed his lip and sighed, scratching the back of his neck. “‘Had forgotten about it…”
A little boy with monsters surrounding him, loose words hanging over his head. Smudges of paint - as if a brush was thrown against the wall repeatedly. Unrecognizable scribbling on all places that weren’t covered by the drawings.
Aaron’s hands shook slightly and his jaw was locked. Andrew could imagine his brother as a teen, in the exact same position, staring at the blank walls and deciding to use them as his personal pain canvas. He probably never thought anyone else would see this. That boy probably thought he wouldn’t be alive to care if someone saw it.
“Are you gonna keep staring at the wall?” Andrew dragged one of the boxes to the centre of the room, opening it up with the help of his car key.
“Shut the fuck up,” Aaron said, doing the same with another one of the boxes.
There were only three boxes there, the first and the second - filled with old CDs and happy meal toys - were fun to look at. If one thing hadn’t changed, it was Aaron’s music taste. The Paramore CDs were set aside so he could take them home and the toys were put in the trash along with some old posters.
Andrew picked the last box up, it was smaller than the first one and so light that he wondered if there was something inside of it at all.
“I think it’s empty,” He said, throwing it in Aaron’s direction.
“Well, if it isn’t you just broke whatever’s inside of it,” Aaron said, already tearing the tape with his car key. He opened the box and spent a few good seconds staring at its contents. Andrew was tempted to smack Aaron’s head to get his attention, instead, he pulled the box from his brother’s hand.
Pictures.
The box was filled with pictures.
Some were from their time at Palmetto but he didn’t know about their existence.
In one, Aaron was pointing his middle finger to Kevin, who was glaring at him. Andrew could perfectly imagine Nicky laughing at the scene. On another - a selfie - Nicky smiled excitedly at the camera while Alison cut Neil’s hair on her dorm.
Some were from after they graduated.
Group pictures in Alison’s cabin. Pictures from Christmases they spent together, usually on Aaron’s house. Kevin, Neil, Thea, Matt, Nicky and Dan playing mock exy in Kevin’s backyard with Aaron’s and Dan’s kids.
Looking at them made Andrew want to rewind. Go back to that time where he didn’t know just how much hurt he could still feel. How much shit the world could still throw at him.
Aaron crawled to his side, looking at the pictures over his shoulder. Then he extended his hand and grabbed the pictures that were still inside the box.
He turned them over, and Andrew could swear he saw his brother’s eyes welling up with tears.
It was them. Fifteen and sporting murderous looks at the camera. Andrew couldn’t believe he was once that young.
There were more but he decided he didn’t want to look at them just yet. The tightness in his chest was something he wasn’t ready to deal with.
He pushed the box with the pictures into Aaron’s hand.
“You should keep them.”