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Neil let out a curse as the Jackal goalie twisted at the last second and swatted his shot down the court. He turned in time to see that Matt slam against his striker, popping the ball out of her net before Aaron swooped in to scoop it up. His striker was quickly closing in, and Aaron quickly passed it off to Andrew who slammed it back down the court to Neil.
The match against Breckenridge had been ugly, as was expected. They hadn't taken too kindly to being knocked out of their first-place ranking in the region, and they certainly weren't going down to the Foxes without a fight. There had been at least 3 red cards handed out before half, 2 for the Jackals and 1 to Nicky, who had such a shit-eating grin as he went out that Neil was sure that it was Andrew's fault, and countless yellow cards for both teams. Still, the Foxes were holding onto their lead, the score being 4-3 to the Foxes at half. Now, about 20 minutes into the second half, neither team had scored, and both teams were getting frustrated.
Neil's defender was barreling towards him, so he quickly sent the ball over to Kevin, narrowly dodging out of the way before he was plowed over. What he hadn't accounted for, however, was his defender's elbow, which shot out the last minute and caught his jaw just under his helmet. He didn't remember falling down, but the next thing he knew Andrew was standing above him, face carefully blank by eyes intense as he rested his chin on his racquet, and the crowd was cheering. By the time Neil pushed himself to a seating position, Kevin and Dan were there, Dan holding out a hand to help him to his feet.
"You good, Neil?"
Neil looked around, noticing first that the scoreboard now read 5-3 and then that his defender was being escorted off the court with a red card and a new limp. By the time he registered that Dan had asked a question, Matt and Aaron were there too.
"Uh, yeah, I'm fine." Neil really did feel fine, despite the eyerolls from Matt and Dan. A little disoriented, sure, but he didn't even have a headache.
"You wanna try again?" Dan asked, a warning in her voice. Kevin's eyes were narrowing, and Neil knew that his whole 'injuries aren't something to take lightly' speech was on the tip of his tongue.
"Really, I feel okay," Neil insisted, picking up his racquet from where it had fallen on the ground and swinging it over his shoulder, ignoring a wave of dizziness as he stood back upright. "I'll probably have a bruise by tomorrow but I feel fine." He noticed the Jackals setting up formation. "They're waiting on us, let's go."
Dan still looked skeptical, and opened her mouth to say something else, but was interrupted by Andrew. "Can you walk?"
"Of course I can walk," Neil was somewhere between confused and offended. "There isn't anything wrong with my legs."
Andrew merely raised an eyebrow and pointed at the line for penalty shots. Neil made it about five steps before realizing the world was tilting and he was veering far too left. He tried to correct it, but in another two steps Matt and Andrew were flanking him, Dan right behind.
"Yeah, you're going off," Dan said as Matt physically turned Neil back around and walked him to the door. Andrew escorted him on the other side, and Wymack already had a sub ready to send on.
"Go talk to Abby about your concussion," Andrew said, and Neil watched as the door shut between them.
For a second, he felt a spike of jealousy, seeing his teammates set up. He should be out there, he felt fine . The whole not-being-able-to-walk-straight thing was probably a fluke, he was just rattled, that's all. He opened his mouth to argue tell Wymack to let him back on, but Wymack beat him to it.
"I don't want you even looking at the court until you talk to Abby. Shoo, kid."
Neil contemplated arguing, but knew that Wymack wouldn't budge. Abby had appeared by his side by then anyways, and Neil followed her back to the bench, huffing when he realized the world was still tilted and he was still leaning left. He ignored Nicky and the rest of the sub's concerned looks as he sat down sideways at the end of the bench. Abby had a small frown on her face when she looked at him.
"Andrew said he thinks you're concussed?" it was more a statement than a question, but Neil nodded anyways, ignoring the nausea that came with the motion. Abby hummed in acknowledgement and held a finger up in front of his face. "Follow my finger with your eyes, but keep your head still," she instructed.
She put him through a series of tests where each made Neil feel more stupid than the last. She had him count backwards from one-hundred by threes, had him balance on one leg with his eyes closed, and told him to remember three words for her which she would ask for again at the end of the match. She asked if he had any nausea, dizziness, sensitivity to noise or light, or headaches, and wrote down a couple notes for his answers. In all, he had probably only been talking to Abby for 5 minutes, but it felt like forever with the sounds of the game next to him. Finally, Abby set aside the paper and looked at Neil.
"I think you probably do have a concussion, but its hard to say this early on how severe it is and how long it will take to heal. Tomorrow instead of going to practice you'll come see me, and we'll check in and start making a plan, got it?" When Neil nodded, Abby continued. "Until then, get plenty of rest, limit screentime, and if you're doing something and notice that your symptoms are getting worse, stop and go find a dark quite place to recuperate. And if you start projectile vomiting, having seizures, or notice that one of your pupils is bigger than the other, get someone, I don't care if its me, or David, or one of your teammates, to take you to the hospital. Capiche?"
Neil nodded again, though he really was only taking in about half of her words now, and he couldn't help a glance over his shoulder as he heard a thud against the court wall. Aaron's striker had apparently gotten the ball, and Aaron slammed him into the side of the court to get it back. The score hadn't changed since the Foxes made their penalty shot, making the score 6-3 to the Foxes.
"Do you have any questions?" Neil barely managed to turn his gaze away from the game again as Andrew blocked an incredible shot, launching the ball down the court.
"How long until I can play again?"
Abby didn't seem surprised by the question. "You can go back on fully once you have two days without symptoms. We will draft up a full return to play plan tomorrow, but depending on how well you take it easy, that can take anywhere from a couple of weeks to a couple of months."
Suddenly Neil's full attention was back on Abby. "Months?"
Abby's expression was unimpressed. "Concussions are serious, Neil. If you don't take it easy, you can do permanent damage."
"But-" Neil faltered. He couldn't be out for months. Weeks were bad enough.
Abby raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to finish, and when he didn't, she held out a few papers stapled together in a packet to him.
"This is a list of symptoms of a concussion, and suggestions for things to do or not to do when you have one. I would also suggest that you email your professors and make arrangements if you find that schoolwork is making your symptoms worse. You can try going to class, but if its too much, I can sign you out. Alright?"
Neil took the packet. "Alright." He spared it a quick glance, but the black lines immediately started swimming and so he decided to put it to the side for now, he'll look through it later.
"I think that's everything, unless you had any last questions." When Neil shook his head no, Abby got up from where she had crouched in front of him. "Don't hesitate to reach out if you think of any, and come talk to me at practice tomorrow."
Neil nodded, and spared another look at the packet as Abby walked over to stand by Wymack. The crowd jeered, and Neil turned his full attention back to the game, picking up the packet and sliding closer to the rest of the subs on the bench, ignoring the concerned looks they sent him.
Breckenridge only managed to score a single point second half, while Kevin managed to get two more past the Jackal goalie after Neil had come off, making the final score 8-4 to the Foxes. Neil followed the rest of the subs onto the court, and ignored the way his head started swimming when he joined the rest of his teammates. Was the court always this bright? Were they always this loud? He could practically sense Andrew standing behind him, and he let Nicky sweep him up in the celebration.
***
Neil woke with a groan at the sound of Kevin's alarm the next morning. Most mornings it was loud and annoying, and today it was even more so with the low thrum of the headache at the base of Neil's skull. Neil buried his head under his pillow in an attempt to block it out, and only came out again after hearing grumbling and blessed silence. He sat up, stalling a moment at the wave of dizziness the action gave him, and blinking bleary at the dark form of Kevin across the room shuffling to the bathroom. He assumed Andrew was still in the bed below him.
By the time Kevin was out of the bathroom, Andrew had shifted to sitting up and Neil could see his feet hanging off the bed, but he had made no further moves to get up. Neil hadn't attempted to move either.
"Get up, we have practice," Kevin said as he flipped on the light switch. Neil squeezed his eyes shut at the sudden brightness. He heard a creaking and squinted to see Andrew had gotten to his feet. The blond glanced at Neil, then walked over and flipped off the lights again. Kevin made a sound of protest, but Andrew turned on a lamp and shot Kevin a challenging look. The soft light of the lamp was much more manageable than the harsh overhead lights, and Neil managed to get himself down from his bunk without too much hassle and got dressed in new sweats and a hoodie before Andrew came out of the bathroom. Kevin had already left to the kitchen and Neil could hear him rustling around.
Andrew stepped close, and held his hands out to Neil's face, stopping just before touching him. "Yes or no?"
"Yes."
Andrew cradled Neil's face, and gently turned his head to and fro. Neil humored him, keeping his own eyes on Andrew's hazel ones. He winced slightly when Andrew pressed down on the spot the backliner's elbow had caught him. Definitely bruised. Seemingly done with his visual inspection, Andrew met Neil's gaze, though he didn't drop his hands.
"Symptoms." It was more a demand than a question, but Neil answered him anyways.
"I feel a little dizzy and have a bit of a headache, but fine otherwise."
Andrew held his gaze a moment longer, but seemed satisfied with the answer. He dropped his hands and took a step back.
"Take it easy today, junkie. Concussions are serious."
"So I've heard," Neil said dryly.
Andrew shot him an unimpressed stare before moving on to get dressed. Neil slipped past him to the bathroom.
As a general rule, Neil didn't like seeing his eyes. They were his father's eyes and there was countless trauma there even with his father six feet under. Still, he remembered something Abby had mentioned about pupil sizes and hospital trips, so he leaned in close to the mirror as he brushed his teeth, ignoring the cold shiver that ran down his back as he did so. Neil couldn't exactly remember what he was looking for, but his eyes didn't look any different from how he remembered them, so he leaned back to spit in the sink and finish washing up. He should probably find that packet that Abby gave him. He knows at one point Andrew had had it, so he wasn't worried too much about it being lost.
By the time he was out of the bathroom, Kevin and Andrew were ready to go. Andrew tossed him a granola bar once he got his shoes on.
"Eat," Andrew told him before walking out the door, Kevin closely following. Neil looked at the granola bar in his hand, and felt like vomiting at the thought of eating it. He put it in his hoodie pocket before following the other two out the dorms.
"Neil!" Neil winced at Nicky's enthusiastic greeting as they got to the car. Andrew must've shot his cousin a look, because he toned it down immediately. "How's your head feeling today?"
"Fine," Neil responded, really not in the mood for questions. Nicky looked like he was going to say more, but Andrew slipped into the car and everyone else quickly followed suite.
***
"Hopefully with this plan we can get you back on the court as soon as possible," Abby handed the paper off to Neil at the end of their visit. On the front of it was a return to play plan, with a flowchart of what Abby had called 'phases.' The first one was resting, and it went up to phase five which was full-contact play. On the back was a chart for him to keep track of his symptoms, rating them on a scale to five each day.
("I know you're tough, but try to fill these out like-" Abby fumbled for a word.
"Like Nicky?" Neil suggested.
Abby looked like she was debating between continuing her sure for a word that meant someone who wasn't severely covered in scars and scolding Neil.
Eventually she seemed to come to the lesser of two evils. "Yeah, like Nicky.")
The only good part about the meeting was that Abby said that they didn't need to get a doctor involved.
("Honestly, a doctor won't do anything besides tell you what I'm already telling you, so unless you're brain is literally swelling and bleeding out, I don't see why it would be necessary. If you do show signs of your brain swelling and bleeding out, please, for the love of god, go to the hospital.")
Abby had loaned Neil a pen for him to fill out the first day on the chart, and Neil went through the list quickly as he sat outside the court. Headache? 3. Nausea? 2. Sensitivity to light? 2. Sadness? 0. Loss of Appetite? 4. and so on and so on.
By the time he finished, his head was pounding and he felt bile in the back of his throat. He set the paper aside and brought his knees up to his chest in the stadium chair as he focused on not being sick. Class was probably going to be a no today, if reading a simple chart made him feel like that. Not that he was all that sad to have an excuse to miss class though.
What he was concerned with was exy. Abby didn't want him so much as taking a walk until all his symptoms where 3 or under, and full return to exy was phase five out of five. His legs were already practically itching to run again watching his teammates practice. Still, Abby had drilled it over and over to him that the only way for his concussion to go away was through rest.
Contrary to popular belief, Neil wasn't a complete idiot. When it came to injuries, growing up on the run he had to learn how to be fine when he had bulletholes in him because they couldn't afford to stop, because it was never safe. But here, with his team, with Andrew, Neil could afford to not be fine, he could afford to rest.
Neil decided right then and there that he was about to rest so hard that this concussion would be gone faster than any concussion had ever been gone before. He'd be back on the court before he knew it.
***
Neil had made a severe and utter lapse in judgment.
He completely underestimated just how boring resting was. The first day was relatively fine, he just went back to the dorm and slept most of the day, waking up periodically to find waterbottles or some sort of food next to his pillow, signs Andrew had come and gone. Neil would feel paranoid that he hadn't woken up to the door opening, but it hurt too much to think about it. He gratefully sipped at the water, not realizing how dry his mouth was, but pushed the food (an orange, and another granola bar) off to the side against the wall, making a mental note to take it back to the kitchen later.
It only went downhill from there. The second day was Saturday and he woke up feeling better than he had the day before, which somehow managed to make everything worse. He still didn't have any appetite, though he forced down the orange Andrew had pressed into his hand when it was clear the goalie wasn't going to leave until he ate it. Admittedly, it did make him feel better, but the thought of eating anything else still made him feel like throwing up.
The biggest problem, Neil soon realized, was boredom. Exy obviously was his main passtime, but that was out of the question. Even watching old Exy games made his head spin before long, and Andrew dragged Neil away anytime he caught him watching over Kevin's shoulder at whatever game he had pulled up. Even Kevin shut the laptop once he realized what Neil was doing, although he was usually too absorbed in the match to notice. Neil tried to sit through a movie with the rest of the Foxes, reassuring them that he would leave if it was too much, only for Andrew to drag him out halfway through as Neil tried to ignore the way the colors started to blur. Neil hadn't even remembered Andrew joining them.
By four days, Neil was missing schoolwork of all things. He even tried to get it out a couple of times to work on things, but could never do it for more than ten minutes before he had to call it quits. But without exy, without schoolwork, without even the dumb team movie nights, Neil was going crazy. But anytime he tried something, it only made him feel worse.
His symptoms were going away somewhat, at least. He had gone to see Abby again and she had taken note of his symptom chart, which he probably would have forgotten about had Andrew not found it and waved it in front of his face until he filled it out every day. She told him it was good that his symptoms were starting to go down, and that he could start doing a few limited mental and physical exercises to help in his recovery… or something like that. If Neil was being honest, a lot of what she said went over his head.
("The problem with concussions is that when your brain gets jostled around, it permanently breaks the neural pathways that tell your body how to do things. It's why someone who takes a hard hit to the head may have troubles with balance or emotional regulation. To combat this, your brain sort of reroutes and creates new pathways to do those things. Your original pathways don't come back after brain damage, which is why each new concussion you have puts you more and more at risk, your brain has to take all these crazy routes to create new pathways to replace the old ones." Neil had nodded along, but he was more distracted by the brightly colored tennis balls Abby was grabbing.
"One way to help your brain get back to normal as soon as possible is for you to exercise these newly formed pathways. So today, we are going to work your brain and your balance. Come step up here, yep there you go. If any of your symptoms get dramatically worse, or three of your symptoms overall get worse, we'll stop, okay?")
What she had him do was basically balance on a bosu ball while she threw the different colored balls at him. Each correlated to a different prompt, whenever he caught the green ball he had to repeat a sentence Abby gave him backwards, catching the blue ball was name an animal starting with the next letter of the alphabet (starting with A the first time she threw it and ending with Z the last time he caught it), and red was answering math problems from a list Abby held. Neil didn't really understand the point, but he was exhausted afterwards. Abby had seemed pleased though, and reassured Neil he would be back on the court in no-time. He wasn't in the mood to talk to anyone after practice that night, and went to bed almost immediately when they got back to the dorms, though Andrew somehow got him to eat another orange before he passed out.
It was day five when Neil finally got somewhat of an appetite back. He had gone the first few days really only eating the oranges Andrew had forced on him, but when he woke the fifth day his stomach was growling. As Andrew and Kevin took their turns in the bathroom and got dressed, Neil headed to the kitchen and made a bowl of cereal. Kevin took no note of it as he got himself some protein bars, but Andrew glanced at it and gave the smallest of nods of approval that twisted Neil's stomach in funny ways.
The seventh day was game-day, and Neil was on the edge of his seat the whole game. His head was feeling better and Abby had cleared him for light cardio ("Which does not mean go run five miles," she had told him with a stern look.) and his fingers itched for the feel of a racquet in his hands again. It had been the longest he had been off the court since the whole Baltimore incident, and watching his teammates play Belmonte only made him even more antsy to get back to the game. The only positives were that the Foxes finally had enough subs and the new freshmen could still hold their own.
The Foxes beat the Terrapins with a two-point lead, and Neil slept through the drive back to Palmetto State.
Day thirteen was when Abby finally cleared him for practice, though with several warnings that if any of his symptoms got even slightly worse he needed to pull himself out immediately. Even though he hadn't had symptoms for the last two days, even with him returning to class and beginning to work out again, he nodded and promised he would. He could feel Andrew eyes on him from the moment he stepped back on the court, and he shot a look back as he joined the circle huddled around Wymack as he went over the drill. He looked up at Neil's approach.
"Abby clear you?" he asked gruffly.
Neil nodded, and gestured behind him where Abby had taken a seat outside the court. Wymack glanced her way and gave a nod.
"If your head so much as twinges, you're out, Josten."
"Yes, Coach."
Wymack gave him a look, eyes quickly glancing over at Andrew before he nodded. "Anyways, as I was saying before Josten over here interrupted-" he continued to go over the details of the drill. Neil threw himself into practice, and by the end of it, his cheeks were sore from his grin.
Abby was quick to intercept him on the way to the lockerroom after practice. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Andrew leaning against the court wall near them, close enough to hear, but not close enough to be part of the conversation. Abby glanced his way in acknowledgement before asking Neil a series of questions about his symptoms and a series of tests not unlike what she did right after he got hit.
She seemed satisfied after he finished balancing on one foot with his eyes closed. "And you still have feel no symptoms?" she asked again.
"No, none," Neil answered. "Does this mean I'm good to play tomorrow?"
Abby huffed a laugh at his eagerness. "Yes, you should be good to play tomorrow, on the same conditions as practice today, if any of your symptoms come back, you take a sub immediately."
"It'll be good to see you back out there, Josten," Wymack's familiar gruff voice spoke from behind him. Neil turned as the coach went to stand by Abby.
"It'll be good to be back," Neil responded, flashing a quick grin.
***
And indeed it did.
Adrenaline was coursing through his veins as he neatly spun to avoid his defender barreling his way, before launching the ball towards the goal. The wall lit up red, and Neil turned to his team with a triumphant shout, clashing sticks with Kevin on the way.
It felt so good to be back.