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Chapter Text

Their match with Binghamton University wasn’t for hours, still here Neil was awake and ready for it. Coach had told them to get up around five, and at least to be ready by six or he would leave without whoever's sorry ass decided to be late for it—which Neil thought was bull—no way would Wymack do that, he liked them too much even if he liked to pretend otherwise in their presence.

To Wymack's surprise no one turned out to be late, not even by minute. All of the foxes were already seated on the bus before the clock even had the chance to hit six and once it did, they left, not wasting any remaining minutes.

Eight hundred miles, that’s roughly over ten hours worth of travel—because it was considered too close to waste money on airfare. Adding lunch, coffee and bathroom breaks, then also the traffic rush—on the list of theirs and it was a long journey to be on the road.

Not that Neil wasn’t used to staying for long periods of time in a car, although there was a difference this time around, this time he wasn’t fleeing or running away from something…this time he was actually going head first somewhere he actually wanted to go and be at.

The first four hours contained of absolute boredom and upperclassmen trying their hardest to come up with topics to discuss, so they could mask the dullness in the air. Their main topic unsurprisingly to no one turned out to be the latest gossip, which Neil didn't listen closely, but did not tune out completely either. Kept one ear open but let it loosely out of the other one.

He heard some of the debate between the older foxes and their negotiating for an upgrade for the bus, especially goating a TV from Wymack, who pretended not to hear them as if ignoring them would work somehow, Coach knew better though and at last caved in, making a deal to look into it—if they won finals.

Six hours in, and they made a stop for an early lunch. Neil was listening to Kevin and Dan starting a discussion about Binghamton Bearcats on their way across the parking lot back to their ride. He noticed the slight hesitation on Kevin’s side as Kevin stepped his way into the bus by blocking everyone behind him for whatever reason he had stopping between the front rows.

Seeming uncertain of where to sit, counting the merits of staying with his teammates and continuing the ongoing discussion or staying in the protective circle of Andrew’s group.
Kevin decided to stay in the front and chose not to pick the former option, receiving a dismissive glare from Andrew as he slipped right behind Dan and Matt.

Soon Aaron and Nicky took Kevin’s lead and followed arranging themself behind his seat, Neil doubted they were that interested in the actual conversation; more bored out of their mind and wanting to socialize with people who didn't mind it.

Leaving Neil stuck on his feet between the seats, having to choose where he himself wanted to stay. Kevin had an open seat beside him and Neil was sure Kevin wanted to go over strategies and techniques before the upcoming game, though, he wasn't paying any attention to Neil and perhaps assumed Neil would join him, like it was the obvious thing to do.

The easy choice.

That left Andrew alone in the back, abandoned by his lot—likely not minding or caring about it much.

However, Neil was. It was starting to bother him the more he thought about it. Giving him the ‘itch you couldn't quite scratch’ feeling did.

He didn't like the thought of Andrew being ignored and left alone.
Before Palmetto Neil didn't have much, he had been so used to the loneliness. Being alone was what he knew and seeing Andrew isolating himself from the others made Neil remember the feeling of it, living as a ghost who just passed from place to place, empty eyes and no-name-faces.

“Neil?” Dan called his name, noticing he was about to move past them.
Neil had paused his moving leg to a half step and received a questioning look from Kevin. Who, the looks of it, had no clue why Neil wasn't already seated by his side.

In that instant Neil felt trapped, stuck between battling over what he wanted and what he needed, what he could never be or have and what he had but couldn't keep. It sent a cold stinging sensation through out his body, paralyzing him of the painful truth, of the harsh reality that couldn't be evaded no matter what he chose.

He could never be or have either, not thoroughly.

Yet, his legs carried themself to the back of the bus’ way, where Andrew was seated alone by the window.
Neil, not caring what others had to say about it, did not look back.
Because he could have this, just a bit longer, as long as he had left, he would take what he was given.

And perhaps the loneliness they felt could be separated into two. Dissolving between them in the shared lonesomeness - not alone alone but alone together.

As he was faltering away from the other foxes, Kevin spoke up voicing a displeased, “Get back here.” in a stern voice that made Neil almost retreat but it did nothing to Neil’s earlier resolve so he kept going, replying a simple, “No.”

There was a creak on the seats behind Neil and a few taps of footsteps that slowly came to a quick halt, he guessed someone had grabbed Kevin from following him further, judging from the complaints Kevin grunted at someone to let him go.
Neil didn't care enough to confirm who it was, highly doubting it being Nicky or Aaron daring to defy Kevin, thus that left them out and it was more likely to be Matt rather than Dan.
Matt moved another notch in Neil’s ranking of unexpected comradery.

In a split second Kevin spoke to Neil in annoyed French, “Remember that you gave me your game. You don't have the right to walk away from me when I'm trying to teach you.”

“I gave my game to you so we would get to finals,” Neil corrected him. “but you said yesterday that you don't expect us to make it there. You have given up on us, so I'm taking my game back— I don't owe you anything anymore.”

“Stop acting like a spoiled child.” Kevin snapped. “Tonight's game rides on how well you and I perform. You need to hear this more than anyone does.” Kevin stated.

“I have heard it all before—now leave me alone.” All Neil received for a reply was some cursing Kevin spit in angry French, but gave up their spat.

Neil continued his way to Kevin’s usual seat on the second row to the back and sat down there, right in front of Andrew’s. Neil let out a couple of relieved breaths, until he remembered the ticking time bomb in his left pocket. It had buzzed when they had lunch, reminding him once again that the countdown was still there, thriving and very much real so Neil wouldn't dare to forget about it.

Today’s sobering “0” on his screen anticipated nothing good, maybe if he was in luck—which was debatable—his phone was actually just a time bomb and it was about to blow up any minute now…he waited for a few seconds and nothing happened.

It didn't blow up, of course it didn't.

He wasn't that lucky, his luck was the shape of a zick zack, it would eventually run out and reach the starting line again. He knew he had reached his end of the rope and was just fighting against time now, knowing this would happen at some point. He wasn't invisible anymore, it was more like a reality check for him to see that his time with the foxes was running dry.

He wasn't giving up, no, he was going to see how this would end, not running anymore as he snapped the phone closed into his pocket trying to forget its existence altogether.

Neil turned backwards in the seat and pushed up onto his knees to look down on Andrew instead. Andrew, who liked to ignore him most of the time- not that Neil minded it much. It was a good way to distract his thoughts from his over looming death to somewhere else and somehow Andrew managed to do just that. Blond hair glimmering in the ray of sunlight.

He made Neil feel—better in a way, just being there doing nothing.

It was a strange feeling, feeling Neil wasn't as familiar with.

Whatever it was, it was disorienting.
A wordless question itched its way under his skin, wanting him to scratch it.
Scratch it open and see what's hidden inside.

“Hey,” Neil said without actually meaning to open his mouth, he just wanted Andrew to look at him…so he might figure it out.

As he was resting his own chin on his arms that laid on the back of the seat, Andrew finally let out a calm gaze in Neil’s direction and let the staring continue just for a minute or so, before telling him to, “Stop.”

“I'm not doing anything.”

“I told you not to look at me like that.”
Neil didn't get what Andrew was on about, so he let it slip. “Is it exhausting seeing everything as a fight?”

“Not as exhausting as running from everything must be.” …touché, Neil thought.

“maybe—I told you I'm working on that.”

“work harder.”

“I can't unless you let me go.” Neil said a bit quieter than before, but still determined on the matter.

“Stand with me, but let me fight for myself–” So you don't get hurt while trying to protect me, he wanted to say, but chose otherwise. It was better this way, to all of them, they didn't need to involve themselves in Neil’s personal battles.

“You never explained that change of heart.” Andrew mused.

“Maybe I got tired of seeing Kevin bend. Or maybe it was the zombies.” Neil let out a small huff. Andrew just stared at him blankly so Neil expanded on the topic. “You and Renee were arguing for possible zombie apocalypse scenarios a few weeks back. She said she would focus on survivors. You said you would go back for some of us. Five of us.” Neil clarified.

“I'm guessing the last spot is for Dobson as you didn’t count Abby or Coach, so you trust Renee to take care of the rest.”
Neil didn't expect any answer from the other and did not receive one, so he saw that as a permission to resume his rambling.

“I didn't say anything then because I knew I would only look for myself when the world would go to hell.” he paused for a few seconds before adding, “I don't want to be that person anymore. I would want to go back for you.”

“You wouldn't,” Andrew said in a matter of fact tone “you’re different kind of suicidal. Didn’t you figure that out in December? You're a bait, you are the martyr no one asked or wanted.”

“Only one way to be sure right?” Because Neil couldn't entirely deny Andrew's point, after all he had gone to Evermore in hopes of helping Andrew, not caring enough of what would happen to himself going into the nest of hungry ravens with sharp claws ready to tear him apart.

“You will regret it.”

“Maybe, maybe not.” Maybe he would end up regretting it, maybe he wouldn't, as he said, only one way to find out.

“Don't come crying to me when someone breaks your face.”

“Thank you.” Neil tilted his head and rested it on his arm with a slight smile on his face while gazing out of the window.

It would be fine, and even if it wouldn’t… he wasn't going to risk it.

this

Even if it wasn't a ‘this’, he couldn't help the feeling of something.

The view wasn't anything special, road full of cars and uneven asphalt, busy streets, a beaming sun… that made him think about the roads of California and the sea breeze, the smell of salt in the air mixed with burned—

He gulped, he could almost taste it, feel it in his fingertips, around his nails.

“I have been through here.” Neil spoke, because he needed to fill the silence with something, anything, to get him out of his head before it filled him with images of flames. Andrew gave him a look for him to continue. Neil did, he talked about some of the Cities he had traveled through, their tourist shops, back alleys, sketchy city buses, nosy people he had come across.

They mostly contained layers of fear and tension within the memories, but Andrew didn't bat an eye to the ugly details, it made it easier to talk about. Not needing to put a front and pretend all the time that everything had been fine and dandy, when the reality had been the polar opposite.

Neil wished he could tell Andrew everything and nothing.

While he kept talking, Andrew didn't look away from his way, not for once, didn't tune him out either, he kept listening and eventually Neil got him opening up about pieces of himself too.

They kept exchanging stories till the bus slowed suddenly and it brought Neil back to life. Abby had driven them to a parking lot near to a travel center, Neil wondered why they were stopping so soon, but realized after checking the time that he and Andrew had been talking for hours and now they only had a couple of more to reach Binghamton.

“Last stop before campus.” Wymack announced, and in a flash the front half of the bus had found their way outside, leaving Neil and Andrew with Wymack.

Their coach stood there, clearly wanting to say something, but gave up and let them be, leaving the bus to mend the others. Neil watched as his teammates disappeared inside the building.
Before leaving to follow the others and getting up Neil decided to voice his thoughts. “I really want to know when Coach figured this out.”

“It isn't a ‘this’,” Andrew reminded him.
Neil almost rolled his eyes, but stopped himself for doing so just in time.

“I really want to know when he figured out that you only want to kill me ninety-three percent of the time?” Neil corrected his sentence.

“He didn't know before I left.” Andrew bluntly said.

But Coach seemed to know already when Andrew had come back, all those times making Neil go to the goal to chat up Andrew and the sly looks here and there. “Yes, he did.”

Then a memory passed in his mind. Coach asking “when did that happen” last November when he had guided Andrew’s hand on his battered skin and asked him to believe in him, somehow Coach had seen right through Neil’s crushing guilt and Andrew’s grudging trust, before either had even realized it.

“When they took you away he asked me when ‘that’ happened. I just didn't know what he meant. How did he see it when Nicky and Aaron still can't?”

“Coach doesn't care for rumors and bias'," Andrew said “he sees what is, not what people want him to see.”

How could they be so blinded to see Andrew as a borderline sociopath incapable of having normal human interactions or relationships, when Neil had only known Andrew for a shorter period of time and had figured him out, seen under the facade everyone was so blind to.
Perhaps it was easier for an ‘outsider’ to notice these things, but foxes needed to take their heads out of their asses and start seeing Andrew as a human being just like themself.

“Are you going to tell them?”

“I won't have to.” Andrew said nonchalantly as he slipped out of his seat, not leaving out of the bus as Neil had assumed, but moving on the other side of Neil’s seat.

“Renee says the upperclassmen are betting on your sexuality. They are split down the middle.”

This again? Why were the foxes so interested in other people's business, don't they have their own lifes to live? “It's a waste of time and money, they will all lose. I have said all year I don't swing and I mean it. Kissing you doesn't make me look at any of them differently.” Neil took a short pause. “The only one I'm interested, is you.”

“Don't say stupid things.”

“Stop me then.'' Neil replied, while burying his hands gently on Andrew's hair tugging him to a kiss. Kissing Andrew was an easy way to forget everything else, every responsibility and this endless road, their next match…just focusing on the feeling, feeling of flesh against flesh, teeth and lips, the fluttery in his stomach and this momentary peace in the air.

The peacefulness of the shared closeness came to an end, like everything eventually did. Andrew took away his hand that was firmly placed on Neil's thigh and got up, ready to head out.

Neil wished they had more time, he knew this wasn't the time or place for it, but it didn't help the feeling to disappear.

**

The rest of the ride Andrew’s lot stayed in the front again and Neil returned to the seat on the back. The silence wasn't as overwhelming as it had been before so he propped his head to the cold surface of the window and napped the rest of the remaining time.

Wake up call came in a form off Wymack’s loud voice telling them that they were arriving soon. “Alright foxes, rise and shine!” he called to anyone that had taken a nap as Neil had.

Neil stretched his stiff limbs as he looked outside the window of the packed parking lot that was filled with more people than cars. Neil could hear a police car driving close by with its sirens screaming loudly as it passed and went on its merry way.

Guards opened the gate so Abby could drive them through and park alongside Bearcats’ buses. Once they were off the bus, Wymack did a headcount to make sure everyone was in place. They were escorted inside, and had an hour to spend before they were allowed in the inner-ring to warm up.

Neil was spending it reading and rereading the lineups for the game. Kevin had caught him at it and came by to take the papers away from him to give a verbal review instead. Kevin might be still bitter by their earlier quarrel, but he didn’t let it show in his face or the way he acted. The game was more important than their disagreements.

Neil followed his teammates onto the court for first serve, he was already grinning head to toe of the excitement and adrenaline rush he was feeling. The smell of the court and stadium always brought him comfort, here it didn't matter who you were now or before, what kind of past you had and what your future holded.

The only thing that counted on the court was how well you played.

He threw himself against Bearcats’ defenses again after again, pushing himself to the edge of exhaustion and coming dangerously close being carded more than once. He couldn’t avoid getting jabs and shows here and there, it hurted like a bitch getting elbow to the ribs, but Neil gave it back just as much.
At half time Wyamack threatened to skin him alive if he got red carded, Dan only nodded in understanding that they couldn’t let the other team dominate the game. They were two points behind going up to a fresh lineup, so as long as they scored three points they would catch up.

Neil didn't want to lose today, he had promised the foxes that they weren't going to lose any games this spring and for once he didn't want to be lying to them. He wanted to fight tooth and nail to stay in the game until he couldn't run anymore, until his hands couldn't catch or swing the ball.

A warning bell rang alerting them to get in line for the last round. Aaron and Andrew were the last in line, but Aaron moved out of the way as Neil approached Andrew. On these moment Neil was thankful of Andrew’s apathy, he was the only one still completely head cool, not getting swept away of the games rush as the rest of the team was getting themself worked over.

“Last month you shut the Catamount out, Neil started. “ Can you do it again tonight?”

“The Catamounts were a wretched team, " Andrew replied. “they brought that ridicule to themselves.”

“Can you or can't you?”

“I don't see why I should.”

There was a click on the door notifying them that the refs were going to open the doors in a minute. Andrew wasn't moving yet, even if Neil put a hand out to stop him nonetheless to keep him from leaving just yet.
“I'm asking you to help us, will you?” Neil asked.

Andrew pondered for a bit. “Not for free,” he told Neil.

Neil smiled, “Anything.” he promised to Andrew and stepped back letting him walk past him and take his own place in the line.

And Andrew delivert what he had agreed on, closing the goal like his life dependent on it, mashing every shot elsewhere from their goal. It gave an unexpected rush seeing Andrew play like that.
Bearcats were trying every trick in the book they got to try and falter Andrew's defenses. Failing miserably as Andrew was blocking the shots he couldn’t reach with his racquet with his hands and body instead.

It made the others try harder too, in his corner of eye he could see Andrew starting to talk to the defensive line for the first time, giving them shit for letting too many strikers past them, telling them to up their game.

Neil was worried only for a second of Andrew's rowdy way of teamwork until he noticed Matt grinning the next time he passed him, like they had already won and the other foxes looked very much the same; Excited by Andrew's unexpected way of getting the team pumped up by getting their asses moving, telling them many times to pick up the pace.

It took all second half for the foxes to catch up, and with sixty seconds left in the game, Kevin scored, putting them in the lead, the final minute containing blurring violence and threats as the other team was trying to score even. Final buzzer roared on the foxes' win.

Fight broke loose before Neil could even notice, the buzzer still roaming inside his skull.

The two teams were fighting, Neil didn't know who started it. Bearcat strikers were tangling with Nicky and Matt. Allison and her dealer mark got dragged into it when they tried to intervene.

Neil gave a pointed look to Andrew who returned it with the same apathy as before, just slightly more sweaty and tired now.

Kevin started to head the way of the fight, but Neil grabbed Kevin by his sleeve before he got the chance of getting pounced, because if that happened Andrew would get involved and the violence would escalate to much more serious scale. He dragged Kevin around so Andrew saw that he was alright.

It took a while for the team's coaches and referees to get the hold of their teams and escort them off each other, post-game handshakes were skipped, Wymack didn't waste his breath yelling at them, it turned out that the other team had thrown the first punch.

It was Neil’s turn to help Dan with post-game press, while everyone else disappeared to shower. Andrew had stayed behind until their eyes met and he just gave Neil a nod towards the lockers, respecting Neil's decision to stand alone and not hovering around him. Neil answered that trust with a small smile and was about to watch Andrew go inside… but felt someone clearing their throat. Neil directed his attention back to Dan and where it needed to be.

They were asked all the usual questions: how were they feeling, how excited were they to advance, what did they think of the bearcats’ performance, and so on. Dan was happy to talk and give her opinions freely, which nicely balanced Neil's shorter answers. They survived the interview, and went to locker rooms themself to wash all the salty dried up sweat on their skin.
Dan swung her arm around Neil’s shoulders and rested her helmet against his as they walked. She didn't say anything, but she didn't have to. Neil could feel the energy radiating from her. They made an incredible comeback tonight and continued their perfect strike, just one more game and they were in the semifinals.

Showers where on when Neil reached the mens room, the showers had stalls like in Foxehole, so Neil didn't need to wait for everyone to be done. He carried his clothes to the stall and let the warm water travel way down his body relaxing his muscles and wash away the earlier gunk and nervousness in his system.

By the time he was done showering, the locker room had quieted and emptied out, only the droplets of water echoed in the dressing room. He quickly dressed up and packed his stuff, swinging his duffel on his shoulder ready to walk away from the room.

Until his body froze in place as the bomb on his tight hummed itself alive and kept buzzing—telling him that it wasn't a text he had first thought—because it kept vibrating, Neil carefully took it out and flipped the phone open expecting it still to blow up in his hands.

The screen lit up as he opened the flip phone showing an incoming call for an unknown number. Then his heart almost leaped its way from his mouth, he didn't recognize the phone number, but he knew where the 443 area code belonged to. Now it really felt like a bomb that was literally about to blow everything in Neil's life upside down.

Baltimore was calling.

“Don't run.”
His own voice echoed, startling him. He hadn't meant to say it out loud, his body was tensing up, muscles screaming in pain. His blood was rushing inside his ears making his breath hitch of panic to get out, to run as far as his legs could carry him before the flames would reach him too.

Neil fought to relax his body, he knew this wouldn't be his father calling, he was in prison over two thousand miles away. This had to be a sick joke from Riko or from his lackeys.

Who knew, Riko must have seen the news of them winning and after the attempt of trying to rattle Neil with that countdown failing, he tried another ruse.

That was the only logical explanation Neil could think of, he needed himself to be right about this.

After letting it buzz in the hand that felt like all the blood had drawn out of it, he answered the call after letting it hit its fourth ring, gathering courage. “Hello?” Neil listened to the small part of silence on the other end of the receiver, until a higher voice spoke back.

“Hello, Junior. Do you remember me?” The familiar voice spoke to him.

Neil felt his eyes widen in horror, skin going cold all over, nausea traveling its way up. It wasn't his father or Riko, but he knew the caller, it was a woman who had showed him how to wield and hold a knife at a young age. How to pierce and cut someone up just from the right places, using him as a practice doll.
Lola Malcolm, one of his fathers closest people. Nathan’s personal assistant of getting rid of the bodies Nathan's circle created, her speciality was cutting them up and getting rid of them in a way no one would be able to locate them in one place, impossible to track that way if only small pieces were left of the so-called corpse.

Neil directed the phone away from himself and tried to breath, in through his nose and out through his mouth.

“I didn't give you this number Lola.”

“So you do remember me?” She said, “Now you see, that's bad, because if you remember me, you remember who you are and where your place is.”

“I made my own place.”

“You don't have that right.”

Neil had nothing to say, nothing to reply to that. His mind was already running through all kinds of scenarios, escape routes, ways to hide. Because this was not happening...

“Are you listening? It is time to go. If you make this difficult for us, you will regret it for the rest of your very short life. Do you understand?”

Neil felt so sick, Lola trashed the bodies, she didn't often make them. That's what the rest of Nathan’s inner circle was for, and if Lola was here his brother Romero wasn't far behind, and where Romero went, Jackson followed.

Three versus one, Neil couldn't win against them, not while foxes were around and even without any disturbance, he had a very slim chance to even win at all against three at the same time.

The fear turned to anger shortly. Frustration bubbled in his veins, he had been so close, but it was useless now, he had stepped his way into a bear trap and outrunning three people hunting him down wouldn’t end in his favor.

He was halfway to winning Andrew’s trust, a weekend from his first vacation, and one month from semifinals, only four matches left in championships.
Neil was so close to everything and yet Lola had taken it all away from him in mere seconds.

“Put a hand on me and you'll regret it.” Neil said.

“Oh, what's this?” Lola said entertained. “Has the baby finally inherited a spine? Your father will be glad to hear it.”

“My—” Neil choked on it. “he's in Seattle, you will never get me that far.”

“He's in Baltimore.” She corrected him.

No, no, no-he has to escape, has to-he's so dead, so dead in the dead end he walked himself.

“His parole hearing was on your birthday. They had to notify his family when his case came up. You must have missed the memo, being dead and all, so I'll fill you in. They made a final decision last week, and the feds swung it so he'd get released back to Maryland this morning. They're hoping being back in familiar territory will make him careless.”

Neil could hear the savage grin in her voice, but all Neil could do was stay in place listening to the gleeful voice telling him all these things he didn’t want to hear, bring to reality.

It shattered any of the earlier hopes he had.

“Don't worry, kid. they'll never know you stopped by, i'll make sure of it.”

Neil blinked and saw the zero in his eyelids, realizing how naive he had been of thinking it was just Riko behind the humorless countdown singing for his death. He was out of time. For a moment he felt the weight of Andrew's mouth against his and reached for the memory, digging his fingers around his lower lip trying to breath around them.

“You don't honestly think you can take me away from here.” Neil told her. “My team will know I'm missing and they won't get back on the road without me.”

“They don't have a choice, we can't kill them,” Lola said. “but we can hurt them, you'll see.”

“No” Neil raised his voice to the now beeping phone, Lola had hung up on him already. Neil called her back, but it just went to voicemail, she had cut off her phone.

Neil swore to his trembling hands to get a hold of himself and try to come up with a strategy, scan every imaginable exit, go through all vital facts he might have missed, dismissing those that involved him running away.

He promised Andrew he would hold his ground, to fight rather than run.

But this was a fight he could not win if it meant placing his teammates in the middle of it. He had only one option left to save his team that not even Nathan’s people would expect from him.

He had run, hid, lied to stay safe, fought his way out of danger all his life.

And now all he could do was to surrender and give himself up.

Neil hurried out of the changing room to a hall, he quickly noticed a security guard monitoring foxes. As he made it halfway to the others before the man noticed someone else was approaching, Neil froze in his steps.

Familiarity, he recognized the face of Jackson Blank being the person monitoring his team.
He was too late, they were already in the building, this one was in the room with his teammates.

Second later, Romero Malcolm stepped into the view with the same outfit, posing as a security guard. Neil wanted to laugh at the irony, they had never secured anyone else's safety other than their own or his father’s.

Neil’s instinct was to run, retrieve, get as far away from both of them as possible, but Neil took a hold on the wall for support before he got that far.

Romero, noticing Neil, rested a hand on the gun hooked on the belt, warning him not to do anything hasty.

Neil flinched and gave a fierce shake of his head as Romero turned away from him to face the foxes as a clear way of telling him ‘do anything stupid and they will pay for it’. Neil put his hands out to show his desperate plea to stand down, that he was surrounding.

Jackson flicked a cursory glance before focusing on the oblivious team not knowing the possible danger they were under.

“If we're all accounted for, we should head out.” Jackson said.

“We're still waiting for Neil,” Nicky said and Jackson gestured in Neil's direction. Neil swallowed the panic on his face trying to mask anything that might anticipate fear in his face and continued the walk that had been cut short of the need that screamed him to run.

“Hey, Neil! We were starting to think you drowned in there.”

“I'm sorry.” Neil said. Nicky just waved it off, not knowing the real extent of the apology, what that ‘sorry’ actually held behind. Neil watched them gather their things, looking from one face to another, savoring the last seconds and memories he had left.

The five feet between his team and himself, could have been five thousand miles. Looking at them Neil was as sad as proud of these people, his team. He was destroying their chances of making it through the season, but the girls had still next year left and they would figure something out, they were fighters, they wouldn’t give up that easily.

He was also sorry he had to leave them with his lies, they had to get the truths from Kevin after Neil was gone.

Only Andrew could notice the small strain that crossed on Neil's calm face, moving to stand in front of Neil, a silent demand in his stare. Which Neil wanted to answer, but didn’t know how, he couldn't speak German in front of the two listening ears, it would be seen as him spilling every dark secrets of his father.

Still he didn't want to leave Andrew with nothing, but what could he possibly say?

“Thank you,” he finally let out. He couldn't say thank you for it all; the keys, the trust, the honesty and the kisses. Neil could only wish for Andrew to read between the lines, to figure it out eventually. This was Neil’s way of thanking him for it all and a final goodbye.

“You were amazing.” he let a bittersweet smile across his lips.

He meant it for Andrew’s ears alone, but could notice Allison passing a side glance to Matt without taking his eyes off Andrew. He didn't care to see Matt's reaction when these were his last chances to memorize Andrew's face in his mind.

It hurt to know Andrew did not get to say his own goodbye.

Wymack was motioning for them to get going and Neil had no choice but to turn his back on his team. They left the stadium in line, Romero in front and Jackson in the back. Neil had been closest to the exit so he was right behind Romero. He hated being that close to a man who did his father’s dirty work of getting him, but liked to think this way Neil was at least shielding Romero's cruelty from his unsuspecting teammates.

His eyes wavered from Romero’s back to the crowd looking for any signs of Lola.
Half of the fans had headed home and the other half had stayed behind for the post-game party, bringing the smell of alcohol so strongly he was almost able to taste it himself.

Cheers of their fans quickly got overbreadth by Bearcats fans shouting insults. Foxes ignored both and kept moving, even Nicky was smart enough to keep his mouth shut, not wanting to rile the bitter fans further, but it didn't matter in the end. They got halfway to the parking lot and the first bottle came flying their way. Aaron’s pained curse told that he had been hit with it and Andrew sent a deadly stare in the crowd. A shoe was hurled next, then another empty beer bottle.

More police showed up yelling orders with pointed fingers as an attempt to get the crowd to listen, it might have succeeded in restoring order, except the next thing thrown was someone's cooler. Dan barely dodged in time to only cause a small nick in her face as it landed on the other fans faces instead.

Romero caught Neil by his wrist in an iron grip, Neil dug his phone out of his pocket with his free hand and stuffed it inside his duffel. Students and fans were on each other's throats in no time barricading the foxes in the middle of it.

Bodies crashed on his side taking him off his feet, Romero’s hauling hands picking him up and yanking him further in the crowd. He dropped his racquet and duffel in the ground in hopes of Kevin or Andrew finding it and sending a message to them that he hadn't left of his own free will; they knew Neil would never let go of these things willingly.

As soon as Neil’s shoes hit the asphalt he started to struggle out of the grip, but Jackson was behind him yanking his other arm behind his back so roughly, it almost dislocated his shoulder, making Neil gasp out of the sharp pain it shot through his arm and back.

“You won't get away with this,” Neil said with a pained groan. “My teammates will know I'm missing. They can't leave New York without me.”

“They will be busy for a while,”Romero said. “your coach will spend half the night trying to figure out which ER the lot of you were taken to. By the time he realizes you're gone it'll be too late.”

Neil was pushed to the backseat of a highway patrol car. Lola had been waiting for him inside, pulling him by his shirt painfully. Neil tried to recoil from her, but there really wasn't anywhere to go from the locked car.

”Junior’s all grown up,”

Romero and Jackson got in the front seats starting the car. Jackson set the lights flashing and the busy traffic made their way for them to drive past.
“How unexpected. Rumor has it you're some sort of rising star. It is a strange world we live in, but you won't have to worry about it much longer.” Lola said.

Romero half turned in his seat. “You tell them?”

“Do I look stupid to you?” Neil asked back “Of course I didn't.” Lola pressed her finger on his cheek where the tattoo laid bare.
“But at least one of them knows, mhm?” Lola spoke. “You're not the only branded one.” she gave the mark couple more flicks.

“Kevin remembers me but he's the Ravens pet, he knows better than to say anything.”

“I hope that's the truth,” Lola said “you know what we will do to them if you're lying.” She warned him.

“I have spent eight months with cameras on my face. If i'd have told someone you would have heard about it by now. You wouldn't have needed this to track me down.” Neil gestured to his face. “Did you give Riko his finders fee?”

Romero snorted at disdain, “We gave his uncle a courtesy call that we’re taking you.”

That made Neil only feel worse, he had an inkling that his bloody birthday surprise to the countdown not being Riko’s doings to the slightest.

Lola grinned “He was pretty pissed, but what could he do about it? Kengo couldn't give two shits about you right now.“

“Because he's sick.” Neil said, not in a question but not sure of it either.

Lola only smiled further, explaining that no, this sickness wasn't the kind someone could recover from, it was the kind where one ends up in a casket sooner or later, if you were lucky, that is.

“Speaking of which, it's a tradition for me to tell the man what I plan on doing with his pieces.” Lola hummed and proceeded to tell him in great detail how she was going to take his corpse apart.

Neil tried his best to tune out Lola’s cruel words, but he couldn't entirely, it was slowly getting to him, making him put his moving hands into his pockets.
Not wanting to give them the satisfaction of seeing him scared after being chased by them the past nine years.

Wouldn't allow it to them.

Jackson was cutting in at ninety miles per hour with the vehicle they had acquired, even with the police lights on, it would take three hours from them to reach Baltimore.

Two miles into Maryland they pulled beside an abandoned car and Neil was pushed to a next car, this time into the passenger seat. Romero pointed a gun to his face before Neil could think of bolting anywhere. Neil watched as Lola cuffed his ankles to the seats rails and barely refrained from kneeing her in the face.

Lola climbed to the back seat pulling Neil's arms behind his seat, cuffing them up tightly. As soon as the door closed they were on the road again, Neil tried to see if he had any room to move, but came to a disappointment. And soon felt something cold and sharp pressing on his fingertips.

He tried in reflex to clench his fingers into a fist as if it would help his case. Lola only laughed at the poor attempt and pressed a thumb to the pressure point in his wrist. She didn't waste time slipping the knife there, tracing it around his fingers teasingly, but soon grew bored of it and made a quick slice between the joints.

Neil tried to get his hands away from Lola's hungry knife cutting him but the cuffs didn't leave him much room to do so.

It reminded him of Christmas break at Evermore, cuffed and unable to do anything. Neil’s wavering control cracked a little further. “Stop it”

“Stop me” Lola returned as she kept cutting his hands, a stinging line from his base of fingers to the thick flesh of thumb, and onto the next one.

When she was done, she placed the knife onto his face, close to the number ‘4’ and started tracing it. “We read all about your feud with Riko. What a convincing act! In another life you could have been an actor. Tell me, did you really think this collar would protect you from us?”

“It doesn't matter.”

“It does. I can't take you before your father with such a stain on your face. Rome?” Romero reached for the dashboard pressing something.

What was she planning? Neil scanned the dashboard for any hints from the buttons, it wasn't the window, radio or heater, so what was it…?

Dashboard cigarette lighter popped free of its lock, finding its way onto Lola’s palm. Then a thought crossed his mind— “you're sick.”

Lola responded with the knife, a sharp paper-thin line from near his eye to mouth for an answer. Neil went still of the metallic click he assumed couldn't be anything else than the lighter. Lola gave it an experiential flick, the metal box bloomed alive producing a warm flame that flickered between them.

“What do you think?”

Neil was about to lose it. “I think fuck you.”

“Don't flinch.” Came the command as the crazy bitch moved the hot flame closer, as if Neil was going to be able to ‘not flinch’ from the explosive pain it caused all over. It didn't help, the pain seemed to radiate to his entire face, smoke burning his eyes making them water. Sharpness of the knife on his other cheek didn't help either piercing his skin.

“Better don't you think?” Lola leaned in to inspect her handiwork, her new piece of art framing Neil's face. Pressing a finger into the melted flesh, just to make him cry out once more. Neil didn't have the oxygen to answer, air had left his lungs making breathing swallow and frantic. He twisted his head, too late to remember the knife that awaited him there, tiering a second line into his cheek. He could taste blood that dripped from the cut.

Then the flame was alive again.

“I know your father’s going to ask, but I have to know now,” Lola said “you listening Junior, hey?” She slid the knife to his back. “Where's the bird, hm? We've had some time to dig around since we figured out where you were, but there's no sign of her anywhere. Tetsuji says you told them she's dead. He was sure you were telling the truth. Me, I'm not so trusting.”

“She's dead.” Neil gasped.

Lola took a fistfull of his hair and yanked it hard, making her way to choke him, to show it was no time for lies here. Romero flicked the lighter and Neil put up a fight.

"She's dead." he repeated between wheezes of air he received just barely. “She died two years ago after he beat her in Seattle. Do you think she'd have let me go to Palmetto if she was still alive? I signed because I had nothing left.”

“Do you believe him?” Lola asked Romero.

“Might as well be sure." And in a moment Neil felt the agonizing pain of burning flesh in his cheek a second time.
“Try again, Junior, where is Mary?”

“She’s dead.” Neil let a whine escape his lips, “she’s dead, she’s dead, he kept repeating, of hopes for the torture to end.

“You believe him now? Lola said, as Romero just lifted his shoulders nonchalantly as if it made any difference to him whether Neil was telling the truth or not. Lola on the other hand studied him and hit him with a hard smack, right where the burns were. She took the lighter away and got onto the backseat out of Neil's sight, which was worse, Neil couldn’t see her, just felt it.

Lola had rolled his sleeves further so she got better access, more room to paint the untouched skin in fleshy red.
Neil only got a few words out, “Don’t, Lola don’t.”

“I’ve got questions.” was Lola’s only warning and then his skin lit up of familiar burning pain, with tearing cutts between the questions of his teammates and of what Neil had told them. He tried his best to stay focused from the pain and not let it jeopardize his team further, telling only the truth that couldn't put foxes in danger.

Lola kept at it, asking, cutting, burning…at some point Neil stopped answering altogether, afraid he would slip up, in pain or panic.
He didn't want to be here, think or feel this, he tried to think about foxes, about Palmetto, his team, Andrew, anything. Swapping between memories to stay sane. He traced the outline of the bloody key to his palm, he hadn’t accomplished everything he wanted, but he had done more in the eight months than his entire life and that had to be enough…to mean something as he wished Neil Josten a goodbye.

Lola had stopped and let him fall limp in the seat, soon pulling over at a sketchy hotel’s parking lot. A police car drove close to them showing two cops in the rear view window, an older and younger one, who just stood there as Romero opened his cuffs and put new ones around his wrists hauling him into the next car’s trunk.

“How much do my father’s people pay you to break your oaths?”

“More than the state does,” the older officer said. “don't take it personally.”

Nathaniel wanted to laugh. “I have to,” he said with a hoarse throat, “it's my life.”

The car ride consumed an uncomfortable atmosphere, Lola was too close pressing on him as she had followed him into the trunk, there wasn't much room for a single person let alone for two. Lola had bit his burned cheek, slung a leg across his, a heel between his ankles.

“You could almost be my type if you weren’t so young, hmm? You look just like your father.”
The inviting rock of her hips against his made his skin crawl. “And you look like a stun out whore.” Nathaniel bit back.

“Feisty still.” she smiled against his cheek, “Not for much longer.”

Doors slammed as the cops kept talking about something he couldn’t make out of, but Lola seemed to know, she told him about an 'incident’ happening at his house, clearly a disturbance so they could get him into the house more smoothly. They drove for another long lasting minutes until Lola’s phone rang and Lola took something out of the toolbox behind him. Threatening him to fight her and he would lose his knees, so he didn't.

“Just do it.”

And then a sweet aroma filled the car and in seconds a drenched cloth covering his nose and mouth as lights turned off as the chemicals did their job.

**

Nathaniel came to consciousness of the cold stone floor pressing on his face, the musky odor of their cellar bringing back all kinds of memories...nothing pleasant. He was in immense pain as soon as he tried to sit up, his hands and face ached from the burns and deep cuts. Worst being his face, but his hands were more inconvenient.

Lola was halfway across the room sitting in a chair, a gun in her hand.
“Going somewhere?” She asked.

He was going to try to clean the wounds, so they wouldn’t get infected, which Lola found hilarious saying that it was the least of his worries.

Well she wasn't him, and he just needed to do this. As he slowly made his way to the old rusty sink, turning it on and ‘ripping the bandaid off’ and just placed his hands to the brutal water flow that made him wheeze biting his teeth together, it sting, it sting a lot, rubbing the open wounds with soapy water felt almost worse than how they had got there.

“How much longer is this going to take?” Nathaniel asked.

“The waiting or the killing?” Lola said amused, “The latter might take a while. It's not normally his style but you have caused us so much trouble and money. I think he'll make an expectation.”

“You could have just let us go.”

“Don't say such childish things.”

Nathaniel sat down there waiting, waiting for his father, because that's all he could do for the next hour. Then the door slammed open alerting him of Nathan’s arrival. Nathaniel’s heart was beating fast as a bullet train and Lola's interested stare did not help. He did his best to put on a calm look not to show weakness, it would only make it worse. Locking a calm expression on his face and watched death come downstairs for him.

Two years behind bars haven't aged his father a bit, Nathan Wesninski looked the same as he always had. Cool blue eyes landed on him. Lola wasn't much safer to look at but Nathaniel didn't want to look the other monster in the eyes who joined them either. Patric Dimaccio was Nathan's live-in bodyguard, he acted and looked like he could take half the world barehanded. He has never laid a hand to him or to his mother, knowing he could kill them just with a careless hit. Still he was deathly loyal to Nathan.

“On your feet,” Nathan's voice made his legs weak, “you know better to sit in my presence.”

Nathaniel told himself to stay put, to hold his ground, but his legs were working on themself ready to stand. Lola laughed at his profound obedience.

“Hello, Junior.” Nathan said.

Nathaniel stayed quiet, couldn't dare open his mouth, not a single word felt safe to say to the man before him. Nathan crossed the room now standing in front of him, close enough as he could smell his cologne. Nathaniel kept staring at the top button on Nathan's collar, a hand rested on his shoulder with a thigh grip. Nathaniel braised himself for the blow that was awaiting him, a powerful slap on his injured half and then Nathan caught him by the throat once Nathaniel's knees had buckled under him. Knowing better not to take any balance from his father and grounded his feet the best he could.

“I said hello.” Nathan spit.

Nathaniel could feel his lips trying to form the words, but nothing came out. It took two more tries until he managed to get a quiet “hello.”

“Look at me when I'm talking to you.” his father tightened his grip making him see white spots, “My son, my greatest disappointment in life. Where's my second greatest?”

“Mom is dead.” Nathaniel said “You killed her don't you remember?”

“I would remember,” Nathan confirmed, “I would have savored the memory while counting down the days to finding you again.”

“You broke her,” Nathaniel grieved. “she only made it as far as the California border.”

Nathan gave Lola a cool look. “I believe him,” Lola said.
His father accepted it, moving the hands that had been on his throat to his battered face and squeezed. “Who told you that hiding in plain sight was a viable option? You had to know I would find you eventually?”

“You should have let me go,” Nathaniel said. “You sold me, I wasn’t your problem anymore.”

“The transaction was never finalized. That means you still belong to me.”

Nathaniel listened as Nathan blamed him for making his father into a liar and telling how he has been imagining what to do to him the past two years, might skin him alive, cut him into pieces and all the other gory options but was sure where to start; severing the tendons of his legs, so there was no possible way he could ever run away from him ever again.

”Fuck you.” Nathaniel spat at him in horror.

Dimaccio was holding a dull ax and a cleaver, Nathan’s attention shifted picking the right weapon for the fun that was only beginning. Nathaniel saw it as his chance to bolt, but Lola had been behind him expecting it and Nathaniel was shoved back, losing his footing.

As he fell onto his arms sending a burst of pain to his entire body jolting from it.
He didn't have the time to feel dizzy as he saw the metal flash by his face only inches away. It got him alerted on his feet again, he wanted to survive, still he was not going to be able to take Nathan and Dimaccio, so he took a chance on Lola.

Nathan didn't chase after him as he ran for Lola, because Lola was smiling from the excitement, swinging her knife which Nathaniel barely avoided, almost spraining his ankle. He got a good punch on her throat that made her choke on it, but his ears were ringing from the pain on his hands. He had gotten hold of the door’s knob, so close to getting out, it didn't change the fact that there was a hand in his hair pulling him backwards away from the hope.

“Maybe we will do both.” Nathan announced.

Nathaniel’s face drained between the pleas and Nathan's cruel words, warnings of gouging his eyes out if he didn't sit still, promising Lola the honor of crippling his son.

“Please, please, just let me go, just let me go.” he begged after seeing Dimaccio bringing a blowtorch, horror settling in his stomach for the torture he was about to face, losing his legs and—

He was so caught up in his own head lying on the floor that it took him a while to notice the noise around him. There was a crash, followed by loud yelling, gunshots and door slamming.
The door had been kicked open and unknown gunmen were making their way shooting, Lola was closest to the door and she had become a target for bullets piercing holes into her.

His father was yelling for back up behind Demaccio, then suddenly someone held Nathaniel by the shoulder and instinctively he scared away from the touch, his attacker didn't fight back, just dumped him further away and Nathaniel stayed in a ball trying to shield himself.

Soon Nathan was surrounded by men pointing their guns at his head as one of them whistled a signal to another familiar face appearing into the room. Stuart Hatford, Mary’s brother. Nine years had taken a noticeable toll on his face, but Nathaniel could still recognize him.

“Bloody hell Nathaniel!” Stuart said, surprised to see his nephew in the room. Nathaniel was too stunned by all of this and only gave a nod on Stuart's way.

Stuart pointed his gun in Nathan’s direction asking where his sister was and giving Nathaniel a quick “don't look, this will be over in a minute.”

“How dare you?” came the savage voice from Nathan. “You defy Moriyama by coming here and killing my men. You are a dead man walking. You don't have the power to–” he was cut short by Stuart finishing him off, Nathan's body jerked as two bullets punched holes into his chest, body making a wet smack as it fell into the floor.

Nathaniel pressed a shaking hand to his month, not believing his eyes.

“I told you not to look.” Stuart’s men hoisted him up while Stuart explained what they were doing there or what they were supposed to do, telling Nathaniel what he needed to do now; Let the FBI take care of him as he needed medical attention, but not mention Moriyama in any way.

His father was dead, Nathaniel would agree to anything right then.

Stuart's promise of getting him when they could echoed in the basement after they were gone, leaving battered Nathaniel on his knees waiting for the FBI that came shortly after.

Feds found their way in there, thinking Nathaniel as his father, but soon noticing the size difference in the darkness.

“You're too late,” Nathaniel said, “my father is dead.”

“Your father?” the agent asked, confused, as more people came rushing in.

Nathaniel didn't realize he had been focused looking for an escape until fingers snapped in front of him. “Your father?” the agent repeated.

“My name is Nathaniel Wesninski and my father is dead.” It wasn't funny in any way but a second later he was laughing at how absurd it was, until he could not breath, he was hyperventilating. A gruff voice ordered him to breathe while he was being escorted out of the basement through the stairs.

“I would rather not cuff you in the state you're in, but I will if I have to. Are you going to be a problem for us?”

“I have been a problem for nineteen years, I'm too tired to be one tonight. Just get me out of here.“

An ambulance pulled into the yard and he was being driven to a hospital, his eyes felt heavy and soon he fell into the blackness.

When he opened his eyes next, he was welcomed with white sealing and sunlight streaming on the window, body dull away from the pain thanks to the pain meds he was stuffed up with. There were two feds in the room keeping an eye on him, like the handcuff wasn't enough, and well it probably wouldn't have been, but he wasn't going to run, he had run enough.

His ‘handlers’ introduced themself to him as “special agent Browning and special agent Towns”

“I'm not your property.”

“But you're in our custody.”

“Are you arresting me?”

Nathaniel listened to the agent blabber his chances of not cooperating with them because of the charges they could charge him with. “We only care about the truth.” the agent said.

“I'll trade you with a truth for a truth.” Nathaniel said. He needed to hear if his team was fine. “My teammates were caught in the riot last night. The Palmetto state foxes'' he elaborated. “Were they hurt?”

“Eighty six people ended up in the hospital, including three of your teammates.” Browning said, telling him they were already treated, just with minor injuries, and that they had been in contact with Wymack asking him to bring his team in questioning, which they were already done with and his team could leave ‘without him’ was implied in the sentence.

“It's your turn.” Browning said. “Where is your mother?”

Nathaniel started the story of running into his father in Seattle and what followed after, his mother dead, burning the body, where the bones were buried…

“All this time you were hiding in Seattle.” Browning sounded annoyed.

“No, that was just the real stop before Arizona.” he cleared.

The agent asked a counter question of “What came before Seattle?”
Nathaniel wasn't going to give all his truths for nothing, “I want to see my teammates.”

Browning repeated the earlier question ignoring him. Nathaniel closed his mouth into a straight line showing he wasn't cooperating no longer, not without getting to see his team.

“Be reasonable, don't make this harder for yourself than it needs to be.”

“You think this is hard?” Nathaniel asked amused, “ Look what i've been through, surviving you is easy.” he tilted his head in a dark expression “But can you survive me?”

“Are you threatening a federal agent?”

“No I wouldn't dare.” he answered, tired of this conversation because it didn't seem to go anywhere, he soon put a stop to it saying he’s going to nap.
But with this unknown place with people he didn't know or trust; it was an impossible task to do, or it might have been without the help of medicine streaming in his veins.

He got sleep just about an hour before having a similar conversation as before, him starting it with “I still don't see my teammates.” and not bunging from it until he could see them himself and the feds didn't like it but approved it after a while of negotiations and soon he was his way to a secured building.

He was given 20 minutes with the foxes… give or take.

“Listen up, people! You got twenty minutes, let's keep this orderly and have one person at a time.” Browning announced. And Nathaniel was let pass through. The room filled with arguing, “Twenty minutes, you’ve got to be joking? Why do you, oh god–” Dan said as she noticed his arrival and he wasn't met with disgust or anger, but terror-fueled relief.

“Oh my god, Neil, are you okay?”

Nathaniel opened his mouth but nothing came out, his mind went blank so he closed it. He didn't think he could ever see the foxes again but Nathaniel reminded himself that this was a goodbye and a chance to tell them the truth, the actual truth of anything without his half baked lies. He owed explanations and apologies to them, but where to even start?

All he could do was look from one stunned face to another, the hollow look in Kevin’s eyes and dark marks on his neck, Nicky being a mess, looking two seconds away from crying.
Both Renee and Allison had one black eye each with several bruises and Renee's arm in a cast and other in bandages. Aaron sat down on the bed, and for once he looked more upset than angry at him. Matt and Dan sat on the other bed looking battered, clothes ripped and dirty, Matt was holding ice packs on his red knuckles as Abby had been taking care of his ribs until then, hand frozen in the air Abby was moving her mouth…talking to him but he couldn't hear anything.

This? These were minor injuries?

Only seven of them were in the room, none of them ended up in the ICU, Wymack was moving the bus so that left only one person out—panic coiled into his mind.

“Where’s And–”

There was a crash behind them, the sound of a body hitting onto the wood and as he turned around and watched Andrew forcefully making his way into the room, Wymack right behind his steps, a metallic glimmer of handcuffs connecting them.

Browning was reaching for his gun as Nathaniel put both hands on the agent’s arm and yanked harshly, sending a shock wave of gruesome pain all over his entire arms. Enough to take his legs almost under him, he was in a hunched position, shielding the hands that felt like they might drop any minute.

“Don’t” he said through clenched teeth.

A hand rested down on his nape, Nathaniel opened his closeted eyes he had shut without intending in the first place. Andrew guided him down on the floor pushing him by his shoulders and following him down. Nathaniel placed his bandaged hands on his own lap, hopes of it helping the pain.

“Leave it.” Wymack raised his voice, sounding so angry, he wasn’t saying it to him or to Andrew, rather for the two agents to hear—who had moved closer to haul Andrew off of Neil— but backing away trusting Wymack’s better judgment on this one.

Andrew raised his fingers with a deceptively calm gaze but there was an iron grip when he seized Nathaniel’s chin. Nathaniel let him look all he wanted because it gave himself time to scan Andrew's face. There were bruises on Andrew, a jagged narrow streak from right cheekbone to his right eye. The impact must have come from something hard as it left his eye half-red—an elbow—that had come too close.

“They could have blinded you,” Nathaniel said, finally getting his tongue to work again. “all that fighting and you never learned how to duck?”

He reserved an icy stare in return. Andrew moved his way to take Nathaniel's hood from covering his face. He dragged a finger to the lines of tape holding the bandages his cheeks were covered in and ripped the right one off. Exposing striped lines left by Lola’s knife. The tape on the other cheek hurt like hell coming off as the tape ripped on the flesh making Nathaniel wince a bit.

Andrew froze with hand a few inches from Nathaniel's face.

Andrew's expression didn't change, only tension filled his shoulders. Since Nathaniel was kneeling with his back to the room, Wymack was the only one able to see the mess Lola had made of his face. Nathaniel didn't dare to look at him, but Wymack’s fierce “Christ, Neil.” made the other foxes curious, bed creaking behind them. Coach jerked his hand and told the others an orderly “Don't.”

“One at a time.” Browning reminded them.

Andrew moved two fingers again on his face, turning it to get a better look, not saying anything. When Andrew dropped his hand and clenched it in Nathaniel's hoodie, Nathaniel risked looking back at him. There was violence in his eyes, but at least he hadn't shoved him away yet, that had to count for something.

“I'm sorry.” Nathaniel said.

Andrew’s fist came back, but did not take the swing that Andrew’s arm was shaking for, to knock Nathaniel's head off. Nathaniel didn't say anything, did not react in any way. Not wanting to tip it off, instead let Andrew cooldown himself enough to lower his hand away.

“Say it again and I will kill you.” Andrew said.

“This is the last time I'm going to say it to you.” Kurt said, coming up behind Wymack. “If you can't stop with the attitude and behave—”

Nathaniel shot a warning look the agent’s way. “You'll what, asshole?” he questioned the cop.

“The same goes for you too, Nathaniel,” Browning told him. “That's your second strike. A third misstep and this motioning to the foxes, "is over.”

He saw Andrew shifting, as if going to move to shut Browning up for once and all. He didn't want Andrew to get in any more trouble because of him. So he moved his bandage covered hands facing Andrew, capturing his face but not making actual contact. Letting room for Andrew to get away from the ghosting touch any time, after a while Andrew got settled again.

Nathaniel flicked a grateful look to Andrew, before giving a cold stare to Browning. ”Don't lie to a liar.” Nathaniel said. “We both know I'm here because you have nothing without me. A pile of dead bodies can't close cases or pay the money trail with you. I told you what those answers would cost you and you agreed to pay it. So take this handcuff off of Andrew, get your man out of the way and stop using up my twenty minutes with your useless posturing.”

There was a bare silence while Browning weighed his opinions or at least acted the way. Then Browning motioned Kurt to open the cuffs and both agents backed away, still in earshot.

“So the attitude problem wasn't an act at least.” Andrew said.

“I was going to tell you,” He replied.

“Stop lying to me.”

“I'm not lying. I would have told you last night but they were in our locker room.”

“They, who?” Browning asked, interrupting.

Nathaniel switched to German and reserved a dirty look from Browning. He explained how the guards were there for him and he would have put everyone in danger by staying or saying anything. “but i didn't know they would stage a riot.” he reached for Andrew’s brow.

“What did I tell you about playing the martyr card?” Andrew asked.

“You said no one wanted it… you didn't tell me to stop.”

“It was implied”

“I'm stupid remember? I need things spelled out.”

“Shut up.”

“Am i at ninety-four yet?”

“You are at one hundred,” Andrew said. ”What happened to your face?”

A familiar nausea crossed in his stomach, “a dashboard lighter.” he said a bit quieter, but not quite enough. Nicky made an awful wreck of a sound which caused Nathaniel to flinch, remembering the others were still in the room.

Aaron’s curses filled the room, while the bed shifted of weight. Nathaniel looked without thinking in the direction and Kevin recoiled so hard he slammed into the wall clapping a hand to his own tattoo with haunted eyes. Other foxes looked shaken and taken aback between curses and questions.

Andrew became aware of Abby's intention of getting closer to them. “don't come near us.” Immediate warning from Andrew that stopped Abby.

“Andrew,” Abby said, carefully. “He's hurt. Let me see him.”

Andrew made a second threat sounding murderous. It was Nathaniel's fault that Andrew’s self control was in shreds, but it was also for his sake. Still Andrew's bottomless rage could never hurt Nathaniel and that was what made the difference in the world.

Slowly getting Andrews' attention by tugging his hair slightly, to shift the attention from Abby to himself. Telling Abby there wasn't anything she could do that the doctors at the hospital hadn't already done. Abby made a protest but was quickly silenced by Nathaniel's plea.

“Did they tell you who I am?” Nathaniel whispered in quiet German.

Andrew explained that they didn't have to, that he had choked the answers from Kevin. “Guess you weren't an orphan after all. Where's your father?”

Nathaniel told him the truth, that his father was dead now. How unreal it all felt. “-can't believe it was that easy.” he breathed.

“Was it easy?” Andrew said, revealing that Kevin had already filled him in on what kind of man his father had been.

Nathaniel found out that his team had stayed quiet and not told anything to the FBI, he felt gratitude towards the foxes, but a whiff of shame having them even involved in this. “But why? I've done nothing but lied to them, put them in danger, they got hurt because of me, so why would they protect me now?”

“You are a fox.” Andrew said, like it was that simple. Nathaniel told Andrew the real situation he was in, the FBI wanted him in the Witness protection program. “If you tell me to leave, I will go.” he didn't say it would kill him, he didn't need to.

Andrew tugged his collar, “You aren't going anywhere.” the same words, the same promise. He had said it in English for the others to hear too. “You're staying with us. If they try to take you away they will lose.”

Nathaniel quickly understood why Andrew had said the last sentences in English, the foxes were throwing questions and arguing with the FBI. To Nathaniel's surprise they were arguing on his behalf and the feds were trying to get Wymack talk some sense into his team.

“Neil” Wymack said, “Talk to me. What do you want?”

This. He wanted this. There was a lump forming his throat, because was it even possible?

It came out jagged, “I want—I know i shouldn't stay, but I can't—I don't want to lose this. I don't want to lose any of you. I don't want to be Nathaniel anymore. I want to be Neil for as long as I can.”

Browning was not pleased with Wymack's support for Neil and expressed it as, but it didn’t help the case much, the foxes had already made their decision and they weren’t leaving for Palmetto without Neil.

Neil explained that he needed to go to questioning for a while, that he had promised the FBI answers. In which Andrew was not pleased with and was not trusting them to give him back, so he ended up tagging along. Browning not appreciating it, but Wymack assured he would get answers better with the both of them there.

Neil was apologizing for having to go and for not getting to explain everything yet to his team. But Allison was thrilled by the bets she had just won and said that they would discuss this later, not to worry.

He ignored the looks his teammates sent in his and Andrew's way, not denying it but not confirming anything either, maybe the silence just fed some of the bets even more, but that didn't matter right the moment. What mattered was giving the feds the answers so he was good to go.

Andrew was sitting in the backseat of the SUV with him and his head was not comprehending this well. This had to be a cruel dream, their forgiveness threatened to burn Nathaniel up from inside out, as healing it was damning. Could they really forgive him just like that and still trust him after everything that had been relieved to them by the feds and Kevin.

“Can I really be Neil again?” he asked in a small tone in German.

“I told Neil to stay,” Andrew told him “leave Nathaniel buried in Baltimore with his father.”

He looked out of the window and wondered if that was possible. There were many doubts, he could never leave Nathaniel behind, not entirely, still the thought was thrilling and chilling in turns. A key in his palm, tracing it into his skin with a bandaged finger.

“Neil Abram Josten,” Neil murmured, and it felt like waking up from a bad dream.

**

They stayed with the FBI for hours, Neil told them everything starting with Lola’s phone call throughout the shootout, answering their questions and filling in gaps of their research of his father and his people. Neil gave up as many names he could place faces to, who were alive and who weren't.

The terrible things his childhood contained. What came afterwards in his seven years on the run. Step by step, until he had given them enough evidence and details they needed for this time ‘round.

Neil made a deal to tell them enough information for now so he could rest as he was getting quite tired of the fatigue and from all the injuries he had acquired.

The feds would visit him in Palmetto another time this week in a secured place, getting more information.

Stetson gave them a lift back.

Abby wanted to take a look at his hands and to say it was quite gruesome was an understatement…his hands were colored with black and purple between dried blood and parallel lines, not deep enough to need stitches. The cuts traveled into his forearm and his knuckles were badly burned as dark burn circles traveled his arm all around. It wasn't a pretty picture to look at.

His breathing had begun to go jagged without him even noticing it until it came in short wheezes. He put his right hand into a fist not caring it was opening the wounds in his joints, he needed to know it still worked.

“Stop it.” Andrew said beside him. It tangled the mix of anger and frustration enough to put a hiccup between the gasps.

He let Andrew pull him back from the mess he had become, it was safer to look at Andrew while Abby did her work. Wymack came back to ask whether they were staying or leaving.

“I hate Baltimore.” Neil exhaled. “Can we just go?”

Wymack nodded and asked how much time Abby needed to finish and soon they left their way to Palmetto. They gathered everything into the bus ready to leave Baltimore behind.

Neil exchanged a few words with the foxes and Andrew before napping on the seat in front of Andrew’s, it wasn't comfortable with all his wounds and mostly he was just in half state of falling asleep and sleeping but not fully resting.

The ride went fast and he knew they were close when Wymack parked the bus near a gas station. A couple minutes later the Foxhole court came into view welcoming him back and giving him the adrenaline rush. “Neil Josten,” he mouthed, “Number 10, starting striker, Foxehole Court.”

**

In a bit he found himself seated with his teammates and looked around the room uncertain where to start. “I don't know where to start.”

“The beginning?” Dan suggested.

And that's where he found himself opening up to the foxes, from the very start to the very end.
Beginning it by telling who his parents were and their connections to Moriyama, about things from his life before running. How he had met Kevin at little leagues but his mother had taken him and run. Then his time on the run, his aliases and places he had been, places he had survived the past eight years without his father catching him, but not without sacrifices, his mothers death, how he ended up in Millport and why he came to Palmetto and the last few days. The truth of what had gone down between the drive from New York to Baltimore and his time in the basement he had spent with his father until he was executed by his uncle.

He hadn’t meant this to happen, he only had found out himself in December that his father was under Moriyama. How he had meant to only stay for a little bit more, but his time had run out faster he had intended. How sorry he was for involving everyone into this and how grateful he was of them: for letting him even stay afterwards.

Neil told them as much as he could in the short time but it was already past midnight and Neil’s recovering body could feel the need for rest soon and hinted that they could continue this tomorrow. Foxes picked up his tiredness fairly quickly and was hurrying everyone to get their stuff so they would sleep in Matt's and Neil’s room together as everyone had gathered there, but Neil came to decline the offer and told the lot they could stay there, but he needed to cool off.

He ended up staying with Andrew’s dorm, they didn't mind much, well Aaron wasn’t delighted but everyone was tired and ready to pass out as soon their heads hit their pillows. Neil got Nicky’s bottom bunk as he wasn't in any condition to climb up, and Nicky didn’t mind staying with the other foxes.

As soon as Neil had been ready and carefully climbed on the bed, He felt warm, safe and lucky he had made it this far, he had actually survived when his chances were in the singles, but he had somehow pulled through and survived, he had been given a second change in life of which he couldn't be more thankful for.

Never in his life would have he thought he had survived his father, but if he had to do it all over again he would if this was where he ended up, with these people he trusted and a place that felt like his.

Slowly the fatigue took the better of him, inviting the sweet slumber awaiting his tired limbs relaxing as everyone made their own way to sleep.

In the night, something had stirred him up, but while still between the hazy stage of unawareness and pain from his injuries, he could only hear what sounded like quiet footsteps, his half lidded eyes closed themself not getting alerted by any danger.

It was probably Kevin just getting water or Andrew being unable to sleep.

Neil had almost let the deep sleep take over him until the next thing he felt was a sharp jolt of coolness erupting his neck making his conscious slip to the dark coldness.