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“You should go, babe,” Katelyn says to me tugging on my collar to bring me up for a kiss. “You know I’d go if I could but my shift starts at seven.” I nuzzle into her. She’s the best thing in my life and the greatest thing that’s ever happened to me. I know I would never have made it through Palmetto and med school without her.
Tonight the New York Hawks are playing in Chicago. I haven’t cared about exy since college and the only reason I know they are even playing is because Josten sent me two tickets- one for me, one for Katelyn. He always does this when they are in town. He’s been doing it for years, ever since him and Andrew started playing for the same team- I mean exy team. He’s made sure I have tickets for every single game they play in whatever city I’m in. Andrew has never said anything about it and I’ve never once thanked Josten. But I have made an effort to go to every game I could for exactly two reasons-
- I get to wear the updated Minyard jersey Andrew sends me every year that’s identical to the one he wears on the court, sit in the stands, and confuse the fuck out of everyone. At first glance people either think I’m actually Andrew skipping out on the game to watch from the stands (which isn’t all that unbelievable, though he’s never actually done it- don’t ask me how I know, fuck off.) or they think I am just a really, really huge fan. I am, of course, neither, I just do it to fuck with people.
- Andrew and I have actually found a way to have a weird fucked-up relationship thanks to years of counseling, both of us putting in actual effort, and two very meddling partners who insist we try to make the most of the family we have left. I hate to say it but they aren’t wrong. So I go to… support him, I guess.
I was always going to go, but I pretend it’s Katelyn who has convinced me. It makes her smile this very particular ‘I’ve won’ smile that makes my heart race every time. Even eleven years later she still makes me feel the same way I felt at nineteen. With a quick squeeze of my hand, she disappears back into our bedroom only to reappear with my (Andrew’s) jersey and a little box that holds replicas of the earrings Andrew has become known for wearing. God, when did we get so disgusting? But Katelyn always finds our little act amusing despite the fact that we hardly look alike anymore. Even still, it does fool a lot of people.
Somehow, since the very beginning both Josten and Katelyn have always been able to tell us apart. Even when we tried to fool them for various and very stupid reasons. Before Josten even knew us he was completely aware of Andrew trying to trick him into believing he was me. Once, Junior year, after a particularly awful joint session with Betsy Dobson he dawned the full regalia and pretended to be me to prove that Katelyn was bad for me and she wasn’t even fooled for a second. Maybe Andrew is just really terrible at acting like me… But it should have been a sign, perhaps, that they were both going to stick around for a long time. I kind of can’t believe that Josten is even still alive, but he is somehow good for Andrew, I think.
I pull the shirt on over my head and Katelyn fixes the earrings to their correct spots. (Don’t ask if I got piercings for this specific reason, it’s a dumb question and I won’t tolerate dumb questions, I’m a doctor for fucks sake.) My hair isn’t cut like Andrew’s but, with her fingers, she brushes it forward anyways to look more like his. She’s as committed to the con as Andrew and I and it’s… god, it’s the cutest fucking thing I’ve ever seen. She’s so sweet and perfect- I still have trouble understanding why she loves me but I’ve learned not to question a good thing too much.
With one last kiss I head out the door, get in my car, and drive to the VIP lot at the stadium. I am escorted through the athletes entrance, a couple of the guards mistaking me for Andrew though I have done this at least a dozen times. I walk past Chicago’s locker room, past the away team locker room and straight to the floor seats on the court. I’ll talk to Andrew (and probably Josten will be there as well) after the game.
Before the game even starts, multiple people have flipped me off and two young kids come up and ask for photos and autographs. I say yes because I love the idea that being nice to kids could ruin Andrew’s bad boy reputation. I said we were getting along, not that we didn’t still try to fuck each other over given the perfect opportunity to do so.
Chicago’s team sucks this year and the Hawks are first in the league (which royally pisses Kevin off, according to Josten.) I assume this will be a fairly boring game and apparently so does New York’s coach. Andrew and Josten don’t even play until the last fifteen minutes of the first half and it’s mostly to placate the fans. New York is up 8 to 1- it is not even a contest. I get up to go find a snack and by the time I’m back in my seat with a tub of unbuttered (no clogged arteries for me, thank you very much. I’m not trying to die by forty like Andrew) popcorn balanced precariously on my thigh, Josten has managed to score twice bringing the score up to 10-1. There’s a very angry, massive backliner who looks about ten seconds from popping a blood vessel in his forehead on Chicago’s bench. He looks familiar but I can’t quite remember why. One of his teammates puts a hand on his shoulder to calm him down and he violently shrugs her off. The next time Josten scores, right before the half time buzzer, the man bangs wildly on the glass separating him from the inner court. Of course, Josten being the cheeky asshat that he is turns around with a wicked grin plastered across his face and winks. I can only roll my eyes and shove more popcorn in my mouth. I can’t see Andrew through his goalie mask but I can only imagine he’s staring blankly at his… boyfriend… with a tiny glimmer of pride in his eyes.
During half time the teams disappear to the locker rooms. I’m left to work out why that backliner looks so familiar, like I’ve seen him before. Now, I don’t have Andrew’s insane eidetic memory, and I don’t give a fuck about pro exy (as previously mentioned) but there is something about this guy…
After a cheerleading display that reminds me of the first time I saw Katelyn at one of the Foxes’ games, the teams file back in, this time with Andrew and his little menace starting. The giant backliner who I can’t quite seem to place is also starting, and it looks like he’s Josten’s mark. I’m not worried, though. He might be small, but it has never been a problem for him in the past. He’s still one of the fastest players in all of professional American exy. It’s what got him on the US Court and why he’s one of the top paid exy players in the world. In a game where size usually matters, it never has for Josten.
Andrew actually has to work a little harder this half as the Chicago strikers make a desperate attempt to score. They shoot ball after poorly aimed ball fueled by desperation but Andrew hits every single one back, taking the opportunity to rebound a few down court to his strikers for a couple extra points. His body language tells me he’s bored as hell. Josten is positively beaming. It’s gross.
A Chicago striker gets the ball and with some modicum of skill, the single bit of talent that must have gotten them hired in the first place, they manage to very nearly outsmart Andrew. Just at the very last possible second Andrew blocks the ball. He manages to bounce it up in the air before slamming it down court right to Josten who then does some very fancy footwork (that I know Kevin taught him) around Mr. Giant Backliner and scores yet again.
Ever the ass, he celebrates like its the winning goal and not just the 18th point of the day for New York. The crowd boos, the Hawks cheer, Andrew leans casually on his racket— but Neil is off the ground. Actually off the ground, his feet dangling.
People are rushing toward him as Mr. Giant Backliner smashes him against the wall. He has a helmet on, but I played exy long enough to know they aren’t meant to protect against a direct hit like that. On top of that fact is that exy courts aren’t built with plexiglass like hockey, they are built with a very sturdy, solid glass. The asshole pulls his arm back and punches Neil right in the face before dropping to his knees, slamming Neil into the ground and getting ready to do it again. I’m standing up now. Andrew is running toward him, racket in hand. He winds up to swing at the guy’s back but the backliner turns and catches the racket with a gloved hand, twisting it out of Andrew’s grip and flinging him to the ground in the process. Andrew’s helmet flies off. The backliner gets four good hits in before it takes both refs and three other players to pull him off.
I can see Neil is unconscious and when enough people are out of the way I can see Andrew is too. The players that pulled the backliner off are from New York’s team and they continue the fight that Andrew and Neil are too incapacitated to fight themselves. It’s bloody and terrifying. I try to run on the court but several people stop me. I’m screaming that that’s my brother and I’m a doctor but they aren’t listening to me. It is like no one can hear me. I can barely hear me as all the blood has rushed to my head and there’s just a sharp ringing in my ears. Usually in a high stress situation I can remain calm but that’s my brother and the only fucking person he has ever loved and they aren’t moving. There’s a sturdy hand on my shoulder- it is grounding, but I can’t focus on it at all. The hand is connected to a human that is speaking but my ears are still ringing. I hear brother and then the door to the court opens. There are medics surrounding Andrew and Neil. I think I’m going to vomit. Andrew’s face is bloody and it takes me back years to a dark room and bloody sheets. My hands tremble like they did then. I’m reaching out for him like I did then. But they won’t let me get near him. Neil is carried out on a stretcher. His eyes are closed and I watch him pass only to look back at Andrew as soon as he’s out of sight.
There are hands all over Andrew, strangers touching him for perfectly valid medical reasons but it makes me feel sick. I can’t speak but I push my way to my brother.
Somehow I wind up in the ambulance with him, thank fuck. I don’t hold his hand, we don’t have that kind of relationship. Besides, he’s not even conscious so what good would it do? They cut open his jersey, I must have been spacing out. They are checking various vitals, placing monitors on his chest and fussing around him the way EMTs always do. They ask me questions and I answer on autopilot.
There is a silver chain around his neck I have never seen before. There’s a black ring with a piercing blue square cut sapphire hanging from the end. It look’s just like Josten’s eyes. My mind jumps to the obvious conclusion and I wish Andrew had felt like he could tell me.
Seeing him lying here looking so vulnerable, so breakable makes me feel like I’m being torn in half. It isn’t supposed to be like this. Andrew has always been the strong one- from the first moment I met him I knew he was a man that took no shit from anyone and returned it tenfold. It is probably part of the reason we had such a tumultuous relationship through college— besides, of course, our very fucked childhoods that set us up to be diametrically opposed to each other. I mean, he is batshit crazy and probably Josten is worse, but he’s always used his odd moral code and fierce loyalty to protect me (even after our deal was off). Now, when he needs me most, I can’t even return the favor. Instead, I’m sitting next to his unconscious body a complete fucking mess because I’m scared I’m about to lose my brother. I’m so fucking scared.
I follow the EMT’s as they take Andrew into the hospital. It’s my hospital. The first thing I see is the shining beacon of light that is Katelyn, standing there in her blue scrubs with her blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail. She must have heard who was coming in and made sure she was the doctor assigned to them.
“Make sure these two are in the same room and no one touches either of them without my explicit instruction,” her ability to command everyone around her with ease and confidence would have been sexy if I wasn’t so fucking scared. She pulls me into her and holds me tight with one arm while she directs everyone around her with the other.
“Aaron, I’m not going to let anything happen to them. I promise.” I almost cry when she says the word promise. Somehow it sounds just like it does when Andrew says it and carries as much weight. I trust her completely.
They bring in the massive backliner on the next ambulance and it hits me why I recognize him. Years ago he was playing for Texas. Andrew and Josten weren’t exactly hiding their relationship but they weren’t advertising it either. Kevin was right, like fucking always, and being an out exy player isn’t exactly easy. Well, some asshat got a photo of Andrew and Josten kissing like the world was ending in Andrew’s car. If I remember correctly, they hadn’t seen each other in months, since, at the time, they were signed to different pro teams. While I personally have no desire to know anything about my brother’s romantic life, I am also fiercely protective of it as I know first hand (from our many therapy sessions) how hard he has worked to be able to have a relatively normal (whatever the fuck that means) relationship with someone. Said asshat sold the photo to the biggest exy gossip rag out there and the photo was everywhere for weeks. A lot of people were supportive, fans loved it, but there is always the other side and it has a way of being louder. Mr. Giant Backliner started a campaign to get them kicked out of the league. He spouted terrible things about both of them on social media and in interviews, none of which had anything to do with their (frankly very impressive) exy abilities.
All that is to say, this attack wasn’t random and was barely game related— it was personal.
“This is the guy, isn’t it?” Katelyn whispers in my ear as his gurney rolls by.
In this moment I feel like I am wearing Andrews face, my eyes narrow but my expression remains cooly neutral. I hear him groan as he is wheeled down the hallway and want nothing more than to slam my fist into his throat so he can never make another sound again. I don’t. Katelyn is standing right there and I don’t like to let the dark thoughts win when she is around. She’s this perfect, bright thing in my life that I am afraid to ruin.
“Baby, look at me,” her hands are holding my face and I feel the tension dissipate somewhat. “Listen to me, go sit in the break room until you’re allowed to come see them. I will take care of everything.” Her voice is calm and so certain. Looking in her lovely blue eyes I almost feel a wicked thing called hope. I know there is nothing I can do for Andrew but she can and I know she will.
I’m sitting in the break room on one of the cots meant for nurses or doctors to sleep on when they only have an hour or so between shifts. My head is in my hands and I run my fingers through my hair before I realize I’m still wearing Andrew’s jersey. I pull it over my head so I’m only in a light blue long sleeved shirt. I hold the fabric in both hands staring at our name and the number 21 on the back. There’s a knot in my throat and a burning at the back of my eyes. We never say it— I’m not sure if he’s ever said it to anyone— but I love Andrew. We’ve been through more shit than most twins though we haven’t known each other our whole lives. We’ve killed for each other, gone ridiculous lengths to protect one another. At some point, separately, I think we each realized we were all each other had left. There’s Nicky, of course, but our parents are gone so it’s just us. And while blood has never been a reason for Andrew to form a bond with someone- or me, for that matter- it’s different. Him and me, we’re different for each other.
I don’t believe in the freaky twin shit. We can’t read each other’s minds, we don’t finish each other’s sentences, and I don’t feel what he feel. But there is something to be said for sharing a face with someone and sharing the kind of trauma we’ve shared. It makes us more alike than our shared features ever have. I can’t lose him.
It doesn’t take long before I can’t sit anymore. I get up and wander the halls, keeping out of everyones way. I’m a doctor, I work here, so no one questions my presence, even in street clothes. I carry the jersey around with me as I aimlessly meander hoping for any news about Andrew (and Josten). I wander for what feels like hours. Moving at least keeps my mind busy. By the time I make my way around the entire hospital and back up to the ward where my family is, it’s the early hours of the morning.
That’s when I come to a door. There’s a small window, it’s a patient’s room. Katelyn is inside. Slowly I open the door so as not to spook her. She’s alone, looking down at someone. I’ve never seen her face look like this. She’s angry, but not ‘you left the cap off the toothpaste’ angry, properly angry. Shivers run down my spine.
“Kate, what’s—“ then I see who she is looking at.With a glance at the machines, I can see Mr. Giant Backliner isn’t doing very well. He somehow looks worse than before.
“Baby, I’m going to need you to wait outside. Mr. Andersen here isn’t doing very well and I need to make sure he gets better.” She’s still wearing her surgery scrubs that are splattered with blood. Idly I wonder whose blood it is but the sight doesn’t frighten me. For just a moment she turns to look at me. “Andrew and Neil are in recovery. You can go sit with them if you’d like. They won’t be awake for hours, but they are going to make it.” She tells me what room they are in and ushers me out the door, but not before kissing me fiercely on the lips and whispering, “I’ll always take care of you, Aaron.” The door shuts and I’m left alone in the hallway staring at the white painted wood in front of me. I don’t understand what just happened.
Despite Katelyn acting so strangely, I make my way to the room my brother is in and brace myself for whatever I might see. Katelyn is perfect. She’s made sure that Josten and Andrew are in beds next to each other, the only distance between them is the space necessary for the machines that are monitoring their vitals. Both men are pretty bruised up, bandages on their heads and unconscious. I take a seat next to Andrew’s bed and lean on the railing meant to keep patients from rolling off their beds while they sleep. I know I said we don’t have that kind of a relationship, but I have the strange urge to hold Andrew’s hand. Knowing he’s going to make it sends a wave of relief through me, but I know he’s not out of the weeds until he wakes up and his cognitive functions are proven normal. What if he loses his memory? If he doesn’t know Josten anymore? Or me? What if he thinks he’s still back in that house with Cass and her fucking piece of shit son? I know these options aren’t likely, but I’m exhausted and my brain is running through every worst case scenario. What if Josten forgets how to play exy and the Moriyamas come to kill him? And Andrew is collateral damage? He knows too much… Oh fucking hell.
I take Andrew’s hand and squeeze it, willing him to be fine and normal and for his… for Josten to be fine too. The uncharacteristic action is more for me than anything else. I can feel his pulse in his fingers and I know he’s alive.
A light touch to my cheek wakes me from a restless sleep. My neck hurts from laying sideways on a metal bar. I rub the back of my neck and stretch. Katelyn kneels one knee on the ground so she’s at my level. She does this when she has to deliver bad news to patients. She doesn’t like to be looming over people when she tells them something terrible.
“What’s wrong, Kate?” I ask, suddenly more awake.
The smallest hint of a smile claims her lips and she speaks in a hushed voice, “Mr. Andersen didn’t make it. We did everything we could to save him but I guess he just wasn’t strong enough.” She leans into my shoulder as if this were some great loss I was suffering. My hand finds her cheek and turns her face up to mine. I love her face. There is a shade of darkness that washes across her and I think she might not need me to protect her from certain parts of me anymore.
“Kate, what are you saying?” I am pretty sure I know exactly what she’s saying but part of me can’t quite believe it.
“We lost him, baby,” and her words sound a lot more like We won, baby.
It’s an ugly thing, to kill for someone you love. But given the chance, I would have done the same thing. I press my lips to hers, I can’t help it. I’m overwhelmed with a sense of… relief? Joy? Pride? It is definitely fucked up, but our family has always been a little fucked up. Okay, a lot fucked up.
Her lips are so soft and her hands are warm on the back of my neck. We quickly forget where we are until we hear, “You’re fucking disgusting,” in a voice raspy from disuse.
“Not as disgusting as you,” I throw back, not looking away from Katelyn. I know it’s a weak retort but it’s the only one I have. I’m consumed with a strange kind of happiness hearing my brother’s voice and knowing he’s exactly the person he was before the awful events of the previous night. The vibration of Katelyn’s giggle against my hand is everything I didn’t know I needed.
I turn to look at my brother who is toying with the ring around his neck and looking at Josten’s still unconscious form. He doesn’t ask, so Katelyn tells him as she stands up. “He’s alright, Andrew. He should be waking up soon, too.” He grunts in her direction but his eyes never look away from the steady rise and fall of Josten’s scarred and bandaged chest.
“I have a few other patients to check on but I’ll be back in a little while,” she says graciously. I’m sure it’s to give us time alone.
We sit in silence for quite a while before I work up the nerve to ask, “So what’s that?” I ask gesturing to the ring on a chain that Andrew keeps sliding on and off different fingers.
“Neil proposed.”
“You said yes?”
“Obviously,” he deadpans and holds up the ring like that explains everything.
“When is the wedding?” I ask cautiously.
“We are just going to the courthouse. In the summer when the season is over. You can come if you really need to.” I look inward for a moment and realize that’s exactly why I am asking. I want to be there. Andrew was the best man at my wedding. It was a duty I’m sure he only accepted at Josten’s insistence and Betsy Dobson’s encouragement.
“So you’re going to be Andrew Josten now?” I say in the most teasing tone I can muster.
“Minyard-Josten,” comes a tired voice from the other bed.
I watch as Andrew immediately gets up, trying not to wince in pain. He rips the IV out of his arm along with everything else attached to his body that isn’t clothing. I don’t even try to stop him, though I should. “That’s pretty long to go on the back of a jersey,” I murmur but they are both somewhere else now as they take in the sight of the other.
You’re so fucking stupid. What did you say? His hands wander across Josten’s body assessing the damage.
Nothing that wasn’t true. He catches one of Andrew’s hands and slots their fingers together.
Stupid, Junkie. You know he’s had it out for you for years. It’s subtle, but I can hear the relief in Andrew’s voice buried behind a false indifference.
You too, apparently. Josten’s hand reaches up to the bandages at Andrew’s forehead.
I know they have forgotten about me and it’s alright. Once I would have been upset to be forgotten so easily, but over the years I’ve come to understand they are each other’s world. Andrew really was a shell of a person before he met Josten so I guess I am glad for it. Glad they have each other.
I get up from the chair I’d been sitting in for far too long. It’s time for me to leave. I make my way toward the door but stop part way there. “Andrew,” finally he looks at me. “I’m—“ I hear Betsy’s voice in my ear telling me to be honest about my feelings. I shake off the old habit of burying everything too deep to access and try again. “I’m happy you’re alright.”
He nods sharply and I understand everything he’s saying without speaking. I nod back and leave.
Katelyn is in her office doing paperwork. I pull her up out of her chair and hold her tightly in my arms. “You’re incredible. Kate, I love you so much. Thank you,” I say into her soft hair that she let fall over her shoulders. I know her shift has been over for hours, but she kept working for Andrew— for me. “I love you, I love you, I love you.” There’s nothing else to say. She saved my brother, his … fiancé… and killed the man that tried to kill them. As she always manages to do, she saved my life.
Babe, I saw what you did tonight. It’s ugly, but it is all I want.