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Andrew and Kevin were halfway to the interstate when Andrew’s phone rang. Andrew was on a mission and Kevin was along for the ride– taking the insurance payout and Neil’s money to a dealership in Atlanta that might have something worth buying. The phone call wasn’t unusual really, Andrew did actually use his phone to communicate unlike some people– but the ringtone was. A lonely voice sang lyrics meant exclusively to taunt Neil, but they had Andrew nearly… not panicking, he didn’t panic, but he was certainly alert.
He flipped open the phone, hit a button and held it to his ear.
“Hello?” There was no immediate answer, but Andrew could hear loud, panicked breathing. On the other end of the line, someone, presumably Neil, was hyperventilating so hard they must either be having a panic attack or dying. Andrew’s voice stayed calm as he tried to figure out which. “Neil?”
Still no answer, but also no sounds of running or gunshots, so the most likely answer was still panic attack. Andrew held the phone between his ear and shoulder and started slowing down for a stop light. He threw on his blinker for a left turn.
“Neil? Neil, talk to me.” He said again, voice its usual monotone. Kevin glanced over at Andrew, but only raised an eyebrow and went back to whatever he was doing on his own phone. The light in front of them turned green and Andrew made a u-turn to head them back toward campus. The heavy breathing finally hitched and Andrew could swear he heard Neil’s brain turn back on from whatever white noise state it had been in until that moment.
“Come and get me from the stadium.” Neil’s voice was breathy, exhausted, and so much was said in that short sentence. That sort of demand from anyone else in the world (short of maybe Kevin) would have raised Andrew’s ire. He still wasn’t having or displaying a lot of emotional reactions at this point, but he could feel them growing back from the burnt out husk 3 years of that medication had created of him. But the demand hadn’t come from just anyone. The phone call hadn’t come from just anyone. Andrew hung up the phone without answering. He was already on his way back, Neil would find that out when they got there.
Neil had called. He didn’t sound like he was actually dying, so Andrew wasn’t in a hurry as he aimed for the Foxhole Court. Neil had called. Obviously whatever was happening was emotional more than anything else. Neil had a startling amount of emotions sometimes. Neil had called . In a moment of obvious duress, dissociated to the point he didn’t even realize he was picking up the phone if his response time was anything to gauge by, Neil had picked up his fucking phone and called Andrew for help. He'd probably even used speed dial, which had been programmed with Andrew's number as the first option. Andrew didn’t know if the lightness in his chest was the satisfaction of knowing his bullying had worked and Neil would be easier to keep alive or something warmer about being the person who could help. He wasn’t going to examine it very hard right then.
It took them about fifteen minutes to get back to campus, but when he pulled into the parking lot in front of the stadium, Andrew didn’t have an ounce of annoyance for the delay. He could see Neil sitting on the sidewalk, one foot in the parking spot, curled around the knee that he’d tucked to his chest. There was no color to Neil’s face, the blood drained away, and it somehow made his blue eyes pop even brighter. He looked exhausted and a little shaky, just like the rabbit Andrew had told him to stop being all those months ago. He still didn’t know what was wrong, but Andrew couldn’t regret showing up for him, no matter how much he wanted to hate the punk kid with no self-preservation instincts.
He pulled the rental car into the spot right in front of Neil, who looked up and made eye contact but didn’t move at all. With a small sigh, Andrew opened the door and stepped out of the car without turning it off. He walked around the front of the car to stand directly in Neil’s line of sight. He said nothing, waiting with his usual blank expression. He watched some of the tension bleed from Neil’s shoulders and saw him take a deep steadying breath, probably the first he’d had since he picked up his phone.
“I don’t want to be here today.” Andrew waited to see if anything else was forthcoming. There were things he wanted to say, words that sat at the tip of his tongue, the definite edges of a feeling sitting right behind his breastbone. But none of them were right, none of them would help right now, and the sheer amount of effort involved in straightening them out and figuring out which ones were safe was just too much. He blinked slowly, then decided neither he nor Neil were getting anything more of substance out.
“We were almost to the interstate.” He said, then turned to get back into the car. Somehow, Neil heard it for the invitation that it was. He must have understood that the mere fact of Andrew turning around for him meant that he was welcome. Kevin still clearly didn’t give a damn, and that still didn’t really matter. Andrew got back in the driver’s seat and watched as Neil got in behind Kevin. He got the car out of the parking lot and pointed back toward the highway.
The silence in the car, characteristic by now of the three of them, continued as Neil fell asleep in the back seat. Knowing exactly the cost of safe sleep at times, knowing precisely how hardwon it could be to feel safe enough to sleep, the lightness in his chest thrummed again. He called . The lightness said, pulsing along with his heartbeat. He called. He called. He called.