Chapter Text
Nathaniel sat silent in the pitch blackness. He was locked in the cold basement beneath the stadium again, which must have been full of cockroaches and rats, but he tried not to think about it. This time he wasn't locked up for being naughty or disobedient, but for being worthless. He wiped away his tears carefully, trying not to touch the burning pain on his cheek where the black number "3" had been stamped a few hours ago. He hated it, he didn't know why. Maybe because he was no longer a man, but property. Because his freedom had been sold at the behest of some boy from a rich powerful family?
It didn't matter anymore, he was now branded, as were the rest of his co-combatants, many of whom were proud of their number. He ruined his official initiation into the Ravens with his refusal to get a tattoo, even despite his coach's menacing stare, Rico's cold gaze, and the firm grip on his friend's shoulder. Yes, Kevin Day became more than a teammate to him from his earliest days. For some unknown reason he helped him and tried to give him advice. Just as he wanted to ward off punishment today...
Now, sitting on the cold concrete and pressing his knees to his chest, the thirteen year old boy remembered how he had lived with his father and mother just a few weeks ago. Evermore was much better, so to speak. He'd been beaten, punished, and humiliated, but that was nothing to him compared to what awaited him at home. The scars all over his body would be with him all his life, as would the memories of his dead mother trying to save her son from a hard fate on the run, but getting shot in return. She was dying in his arms, whispering his new name with the last of her strength.
- Neil. You are Neal Josten, okay? Don't tell anyone, the papers are in the safe. Repeat... Repeat the numbers.
Nathaniel gasped for air, not daring to cry. Fear took hold of him completely, and his attention was distracted by the rumbling outside the doors and the heavy footsteps he had known so well since he was a little boy. But despite this, he continued to hold on to his mother's hand, squinting, repeating, as she had asked, the memorized phone number to call to pick up his new papers.
- Okay. Okay... Now, run along. There's a window in the bathroom and a fire escape...
- No! I'm not leaving you.
- Fool, this is no time to whine. We didn't come all this way for this..." She coughed, and just now the boy saw a trickle of blood running from the corner of her mouth.
She was dying. She was beyond saving. He knew that. But... he couldn't leave her alone. She was frightened, terrified, and trembling with pain throughout her body. Heavy footsteps and her father's wild laughter echoed outside the door, which was propped up by a huge closet and all the chairs in the room. That's when Nathaniel drew his blade from behind his belt.
- Mom, I'm sorry.
She couldn't speak, all her strength went into continuing to take heavy sighs and endure the pain of the lead in her side, but she understood what her son wanted to do and nodded at him, smiling appreciatively. Nathaniel exhaled, piercing the main artery with his eyes closed, piling on the woman's body. She let out one last wheeze and the hand holding her son fell to the floor. Nathaniel's hands shook and were covered in warm blood. Throwing his head up, he whimpered, pressing his lips together in a thin line to keep from screaming. He quickly grabbed the gun lying next to the breathless body, threw his backpack behind his back, and ran to the window on cotton legs.
"He'll make it. He'll escape and no one will find him. Mom won't suffer anymore. No more... Not... Will..."
The boy had already swung over the windowsill and was reaching for the fire escape when suddenly a thud was heard from the room. His heart jumped, and with it Nathaniel. Jumping off the third floor wasn't so scary when the Butcher was chasing you. He was weightless for just a moment, preparing for a hard landing, when suddenly the straps of the backpack dug into his shoulders and armpits, and his body hung in the air swaying eight meters above the ground. He was pulled sharply upward by his father's pumped and tattooed hands. Nathan Wesninski managed to grab him by the loop of his backpack and now threw his son's body triumphantly onto the tiled floor, blocking his throat with the heel of his boot.
- You made me run, you brat. Killed his mother yourself, and didn't let me play. He's all over me.
The boy was panting and twitching to get out of his grip. They got him. He couldn't get away. Everything my mother had done, everything she'd fought and died for... it was all for nothing.
- Hey, Nathaniel," a voice came from somewhere far away, "Nath, are you okay? Hey..." He was shaken and lifted off the floor, sitting against the wall. His glassy eyes stared into the void, and his body trembled so violently that at first Jean was frightened if he had epilepsy. But quickly pulling himself together, he slapped Nathaniel on the cheeks and leaned in so close that their eyes were at the same level, "It's me. Can you hear me? You're in the Evermore basement.
Wesninski finally blinked and grabbed his shoulder, so hard it made Moreau ouch. Focusing his gaze, the redhead breathed in the damp air with his whole chest. Realizing that his face was completely wet with tears, he quickly covered it with his hands, wiping it away with sharp movements, ignoring the pain of the tattoo. Jean pursed his lips, watching him, and tried the question again:
- Is it an attack again? Nathaniel, let's tell Rico, he'll talk to his uncle and they'll stop locking you in here.
- No. I don't..." Nathaniel clenched his fists again, feeling angry and gagging at the sound of his name, "Don't call me that.
The boy was taken aback, his eyes flapping.
- What should I call you?
- I'm Neal," he swallowed the bitterness on his tongue, pushing the image of his mother from his mind. She wanted him to have a different name. It didn't matter if he had other papers on him or not, but he didn't want to be his father's protégé. "Call me Neil," he repeated more confidently.
- Is that short for full name? Well... Okay," Moreau held out his hand as he rose. He'd only been here a few minutes, and already he was freezing, so how was Neil, who'd been sitting here for two hours?
- What are you doing here? - The redhead finally asked.
- I came to rescue you. Kevin said you were having seizures and..." Jean rubbed the tip of his nose in disapproval as he looked away, "Anyway, he's distracting Rico and the others until I can get you out of here.
They were put in the same room, for they were both new to the team almost at the same time. Jean was sold by his parents to pay off debts, and Nathaniel himself was given by his father, at Moriyama's whim. Rico wanted him as soon as he saw him playing "amateur" lacrosse. Who knew that this kid, who raced balls at unprecedented speed, would be so good at ecie, too. The boys headed down the hallway on their toes so as not to make unnecessary noises. Only when they entered their room were they able to exhale and collapse on the bed.
- Nathan... I mean, Neil, maybe...
- No. If you tell, they'll start locking me in there more often. For longer, until I give in and stop defying them.
- Will you?
- No. I'm not a dog to call that idiot master!
Jean jumped up to his friend's bed and put his hand over his mouth, squinting at the door.
- Shhhh are you a fool? - Moreau's accent showed more when he was worried. It amused Rico, but Neil listened with interest to the French pronunciation and sometimes parodied it. He mooed into his palm, sluggishly pushing Jean away. If he wanted to, he would have easily thrown him off, but if it made him feel more comfortable, so be it, he would tolerate it.
- Well, what's stopping you? Why suffer when you can do this little thing and live your life in peace?
Nathaniel frowned and slapped his friend on the arm, freeing himself.
-Tiny thing? First they'll get it done, and then what? What then will they ask to do for their ego? I won't lose the one thing I have.
- And what is that? - Kevin appeared in the doorway, crossing his arms over his chest.
Neil sat up sharply on the bed, looking over him. He didn't seem beaten up, and he looked pretty chipper, which meant no one knew he'd been released. And no one was hurt because of him.
- Pride," he exhaled, and then he smiled after a while, "And a dream.
- A dream? Jean, did he hit his head on the way here?
Moreau shook his head, but he wasn't going to rebuke Nathaniel for saying that. Everyone has a right to believe in something.
- What are your dreams? - he asked quietly.
The redhead scratched the back of his head and looked in the mirror in front of his bed. It was not a thirteen-year-old boy looking at him, but a grown man. He already had a deep and grown-up look that many people feared and shunned. No one knew what he had been through over the years. Looking at his reflection, he uttered only part of his dream, wanting to share it with perhaps the only friends in his life.
- I want to be free. I want to be in charge of my life and no one dares to tell me what to do. I will escape from here and live.
- That will never happen," Kevin began in confusion, but Jean interrupted him.
- And I want a dog," two pairs of eyes looked at the boy and he shrugged, smiling, "With curly ears and very fast. A hunter. So she could pounce on Kengo and Tetsui on my command.
- She'd rip their throats out and be our escape partner. What would you call her?
- I don't know... Maybe," Jean ran his eyes around the room, but apparently he couldn't find anything that would give him a nickname, so he lowered his head. Nathaniel looked at Kevin, who didn't understand what this was all about.
His friends were now smiling and discussing dreams, while he stood back and just watched aloof. What was his own dream? Maybe... To meet his father one day or... To become the best in the ecie game, to be on TV and have the fans shout his name every time he scored a goal.
-The Storm or the Hurricane, maybe?
- Let's call him Nivek," Nathaniel said, pleased with his cleverness.
The two looked at each other, not understanding the fun of such an interesting nickname. Wesninski rolled his eyes.
- Read it backwards.
Kevin froze for a moment. Moreau jumped and immediately got a slap on the wrist.
- It's funny to you, isn't it? Then I'll get a guinea pig and name it Jean.
Neil chuckled quietly as he watched the boys playfully try to punch each other and promise to get pets after each other. At this point, he was fine. Even more than that and he was fine with it.