Chapter Text
When he first came out of the nest, Kevin didn't think much of anything. He was too depressed- he lost everything. His career, which barely even started, his hand, his only connection to his mother. Of course, he still had a father, one he didn't even know about it.
"How could he not know?" Jean used to wonder. "You two look basically the same."
"No we're not."
They used to argue for hours on end, between and during practice, at night, sometime in the middle of games. They never fought. It was always just a bit of play fighting- nothing too harmful to actually hurt, just enough bite to tease.
Whatever relationship they had disappeared the day Jean pushed Kevin out the nest's doors.
He didn't remember much of the road, apart from the cold. It snowed for most of the way, and his thin shirt didn't do much to help. The bus tilted left and right on the potholes ridden road, driving too fast to be safe but not fast enough for Kevin. It was a too long ride from South Virginia to South Carolina.
Apparently, it wasn't long enough for Kevin to think of what words to use.
Silence stretched between Kevin and his father's eyes as they stared at each other, standing in the snow outside of a coffee shop. The striker felt fear seep into his bones. Fear of rejection. Fear of abandonment. His entire body shook.
You must tell him. Jean said. He will take you in if you will.
"I…" kevin stuttered, unable to say the words.
"Can I help you?" David Wymack, the Palmetto State Fox's coach asked.
For a moment, it struck Kevin odd that the coach couldn't recognise him, but then he remembered the mask covering his face. As he ripped off the mask, he saw the moment recognition came into Wymack's face.
"Kevin. What are you doing here?" Wymack took a step forward, and before Kevin could stop himself, he flinched. Hard. Wymack stopped immediately, not even attempting to make another step. He casted a look over him, searching his body for injury, until his eyes landed on the striker's left hand. It was covered in light bandages, with small bloodstained sipping out of where his bones poked out of the skin. He didn't have much else to cover the hand with- wearing a glove was too painful.
"What happened?" The urgency in Wymack's voice made Kevin nauseas. "We need to get you to a hospital."
"No!" Kevin almost shouted. "No hospital."
Wymack's silent eyes searched his face up and down, looking for whatever it was that wymack always saw.
"Was it Rico?"
At Kevin's silence all Wymack said was "Alright. Let's get you home."