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He was in practice when he got the phone call.
Afterward, Neil saw the notification – no contact info, no voicemail. It was a random string of numbers that he nor Andrew recognized. It wasn’t particularly unusual to get calls or texts from spammers or wrong numbers, but every time, it caused a small ache to bloom in his chest. He’d been burned before, and it wasn’t something he could take lightly any longer.
Andrew said his paranoia was no longer needed, but Neil silently disagreed.
It had, however, diminished slightly. With over two years between himself and the events of Baltimore, and not so much as a threat to show for it, the sharp edges of Neil’s thoughts had begun to soften slightly. It seemed Andrew’s had as well; the progress they’d made, beginning with Andrew finally admitting to their this, put them lengths from where they’d been at the end of Neil’s first year.
It was demonstrated in the way Andrew always sought out his hand, intertwining their fingers while walking down the street or driving aimlessly down the highway. How he’d sit himself in Neil’s lap and bury his head in the crook of the younger man’s neck after a particularly grueling day.
How now, a non-distinct Thursday where Andrew sent Kevin to night practice with Boyd and convinced Neil to stay with him, he lay on top of his chest, their arms wrapped securely around one another and breath intermingling.
The hand Andrew has cupped around the side of his neck is comforting, with his thumb running softly down the line of his jaw again and again. Andrew can’t see him with his head resting in the crook of his neck, but he can pristinely imagine the way Neil’s eyelids would be fluttering at the contact. His breathing has finally begun to even out, the tension in his shoulders falling away gradually. Andrew’s rabbit had been tense all day, fidgeting endlessly until Andrew finally got the chance to administer some human-weighted-blanket therapy.
“Why are you so worked up?” The words against his neck made Neil shudder slightly.
In all honesty, Neil didn’t have a proper answer. The past few nights he’d managed to fall asleep easily, there were no nightmares to speak of and no unruly memories fighting their way to the surface. His days went by disruption-free, nothing was askew.
“I’m not really sure,” he whispered back. “I’m just… nothing is wrong. But it feels like something should be. There’s a knot in my chest that won’t go away.”
“That’s called anxiety.” Andrew nuzzled further into him as Neil began carding gentle fingers through his hair.
“Oh, really?” Neil replied, sarcasm dripping from the whispered vowels and consonants, a smirk playing on his lips. “Thanks, Bee.”
“Speaking of…” Andrew teased, knowing how annoyed his boyfriend would become at the thought.
The answering huff proved him correct, but Neil knew he wouldn’t push into that topic for now. Right now, Andrew’s goal was to relieve the bubbling anxiety, and pushing him to see a shrink he was so admittedly against would only do the opposite.
He placed a light kiss against Neil’s neck, and then his jaw in a silent apology. Neil’s hum of approval meant all was forgiven. The younger man sank further into the mattress, sleep pulling at his muscles, eyelids half closed.
It was barely 9 pm, and Andrew had an essay to finish before his first class the next day, but he was willing to wake up a little early if it meant Neil got a good night’s rest. He shifted so that he was almost fully on top of his boyfriend, chest to chest with their legs intertwined. Neil let out a soft breath, his eyes now completely closed.
Andrew dropped a lingering kiss to his lips, ignoring the way Neil’s smile triggered a pleasant churning in his stomach.
“Get some sleep, Junkie.”
“Already there.”
______
Andrew would never admit it, but he didn’t hate Exy the way he once did. Maybe it had something to do with Neil’s enthusiasm as he bounced around the court, that blinding smile when he pulled off a risky shot, the smirk as he taunted a mark twice his size (because who wasn’t twice his size?). Getting a clear view of Neil’s ass in those pants was a nice bonus, too.
They both preferred home games, having trouble getting comfortable on the lumpy bus seats. Andrew was normally unable to sleep in the presence of so many people, and Neil often slept restlessly, remembering nights spent on the road with his mother as the bus bumped down the shitty South Carolina roads.
At the Fox’s stadium, they could take as long as they needed to decompress in the showers. Sometimes together, sometimes separate. The ride home was only a few minutes, so they could fall in bed together or waste no extra time driving down to Eden’s to get a full night of drinking and eventually a room alone.
Tonight would be spent in Columbia, with the monsters and Matt, an honorary member in his last year without the girls.
It wasn’t a difficult game, but Neil still bounded off the court with that triumphant grin. He tugged at that atrocious orange bandana, letting his sweat-soaked curls fall into his face, all the way down to his chin. Andrew had told him a few times now that he should get a haircut, but Neil refused, saying that he liked the extra length. Andrew secretly wasn’t against it either. It was unruly, just like Neil. The mop on his head was charming, to say the least. Somehow, Neil managed to make his disheveled appearance gorgeous without even trying.
Andrew didn’t move toward him after stepping off the court, knowing that Neil would come over to him sooner or later. He watched as his boyfriend patted their teammates' backs in celebration. When Matt finally released him from a giant hug, he began making his way over to Andrew, a smile still pasted on his face. Heat pricked at the tips of his ears, as it always did when Neil turned that look in his direction.
“14 to 6” His breath was still slightly labored from his last-minute goal. Andrew rolled his eyes at the smug impression. “You blocked 78 goals! Holy shit.” He was even more hyper than usual; it probably had something to do with the fact that Dan, Allison, and Renee were watching from the crowd.
Andrew pushed him away slightly so he wouldn’t see the blush extending down his face. “Shut up,” he muttered.
Neil laughed and stepped away slightly, respecting his fake plea for space. Andrew walked ahead of him as the Foxes moved their celebration into the locker room.
Wymack’s smile was small but pleased. Neil sat in between Andrew and Kevin on the couch. The redhead left a few inches of space between them, but Andrew let his legs fall further open in a sign that Neil immediately answered by pressing their thighs together. He relished in the slight contact, it wasn’t overwhelming in the slightest knowing the other man so well, knowing the feeling of his hands and the ridges of his scars.
Andrew zoned out during Wymack’s post-game spiel, instead closing his eyes and resting his head on the back of the couch. He was beginning to feel the ache of the game’s exertion settling in his limbs. It was an ache he liked, something controlled that told him he’d done well, that he was getting stronger.
“Neil.” He tuned back in when Wymack called his boyfriend’s name. The rest of the team was exiting the room. “Matt and Kevin are on press today, but there’s someone here to interview you personally as the captain.”
He felt Neil tense slightly beside him. The redhead arched an eyebrow, prompting their coach to give more details. He didn’t look amused, Neil only put up with PR duty because of his status on the team, but an individual interview was a greater responsibility that he didn’t agree to without a good enough reason.
“Chuck emailed me this morning, there’s a journalist from Exytimes that got in contact with him. She wants to interview you for their magazine. It would be great for your and the team’s reputation. She’s in the lounge now. You should get it over with now so you can see the girls.”
Neil huffed in annoyance, but begrudgingly nodded his head. “Let me shower and then I’ll head over.” Wymack nodded and shooed him away. Andrew watched his back for a second before he turned back to the coach.
Wymack met his eyes and instantly recognized the disdain behind them. “You really trust him to go off with a reporter alone?”
Wymack rolled his eyes and fell into one of the armchairs. “What? It’s not like the woman’s gonna’ beat him up.”
Andrew’s eyebrows shot up. Trouble found Neil Josten like a moth found a flame. It seemed Neil’s paranoia had somehow rubbed off on him, though. Although it’d been two years since Nathan’s men had gotten to Neil, Andrew found it difficult to let the man out of his sight for anything other than their typical routine. Some days, it was even hard to watch Neil go out on his runs. On those days, he wanted to hole up in their room behind two locked doors and skip their classes as well as the rest of their responsibilities, holding him until he was sure it was not dangerous to step outside.
But he knew it was impossible to live like that, without any risk.
“I’m more concerned about what Neil will do to that poor reporter.” It was a lie, but Wymack didn’t seem to catch that. He didn’t much care what Neil said to those that tried to pry into his personal life, they all deserved the verbal beatdown they got.
The coach considered him a moment, before letting out a begrudging sigh and giving him a gesture similar to the one he used to dismiss Neil. “Fine. Go wash up and meet him there. But try not to interfere, we need the press.”
“Then Neil is the last person you want doing this.” Andrew didn’t flinch, but he was slightly surprised to hear another voice entering the conversation as he stood. Dan wore a large grin, shooting Andrew a nod before making toward Wymack, who didn’t hesitate to pull her into a hug. Allison said nothing to the blonde, an improvement from the days she would greet him by calling him “monster.” Renee entered last, a pleased smile already playing on her lips. She came to stand by Andrew’s side first while the others shared words with the coach. They gave each other twin nods, and Renee spent a moment to catch him up on her life, which he pretended to be indifferent about.
“You should go shower,” she said after a few minutes of a partially one-sided conversation. “You stink.”
“Haha,” he deadpanned. She only giggled – it was annoying at times, how she found humor in his glares. He hadn’t realized, though, that part of him missed it.
“I’ll see you tonight for Eden’s?”
He nodded and gave his signature salute and he exited the room.
Neil was already getting dressed when Andrew arrived. The sound of rustling clothes coming from one of the stalls was distinct, joined by the flow of water as Andrew cut on a shower. Neil still preferred to dress in the privacy of the stalls; Andrew couldn’t imagine putting on all of his clothes in the sticky humidity of this side of the locker room, the sensation of clothing sticking to his skin would be a sensory nightmare, but Neil never complained. He was still too protective of his scars to let anyone but him, and now Kevin, as he was their only other roommate, see them.
The rustling stopped, soon to be replaced by a soft voice. “Are you joining me for the interview?”
Andrew nodded, though Neil could not see him. “Yeah. I’ll be there when I’m done.”
Headed to the lounge, Neil’s face was pinched in annoyance. He knew that he’d have to put up with all sorts of press when he joined a pro team. He needed the money to satisfy the Moriyamas, and Ichirou had already asked him to participate in a photoshoot once. He didn’t have the room to refuse, not with the deal he was locked into. But it was better than running, better than death. He had a life he was proud of, one he was happy to live, so he would do what he had to in order to keep it.
He didn’t bother to put on a smile when he entered the room. He spotted the woman immediately. She was hunched over, pen brought down to the paper of a notebook. The angle her head was turned along with the hat she wore both worked to obscure her face from view. Something pulled at Neil’s chest – leftover paranoia from the times he’d been burned before. Both figuratively and literally, he supposed.
But anyone from his past he could match with this description was dead, without a doubt.
He took the couch across from her slowly, trying to push the anxiety down without much success. The woman tensed, her fingers clutching the edges of the notebook and baring down on the pen. Without looking up, she set them down on the table in front of them.
Neil’s eyes flicked between the papers and the woman, not quite sure where to look. He caught himself before eyeing all of the exits, scanning the room for other people or weaponry – anything that could be used in a fight.
An excruciating moment went by before she finally looked up. Cold eyes met his, and every last bit of air in his lungs abandoned him.
He leapt from his chair, body on autopilot. His mother was quick, though, having taught him everything she knew. She snagged the collar of his shirt, a snarl on her lips. His body was weak from the game, weak from anxiety that coursed through his every vein. He wasn’t scared, he was… shocked. Defeated. He wondered if he was also relieved.
“Mom,” He whispered, but his voice was drowned out by the curses that were now flying his way.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing here.” Her grip somehow tightened, she gave him a violent shake as if to reinforce her words. “How reckless must you be? Exy? I thought I told you you were never to play Exy again.”
“Mom-”
“After all I’ve done for you, you go and throw yourself straight into the lion’s den. Ungrateful child. I should have left you in that house.”
“Then why the fuck are you here now?” He spat back, finally able to muster more than just weak and desperate pleas for his undead mother. The grief of her death came spilling back, only, she was here. Alive and seemingly unharmed. He wondered if he was dreaming, or if she was merely a hallucination. “If I’m such an inconvenience, then go back to pretending you’re dead.”
He was stupid for not anticipating the slap that followed his words. The back of her hand came in quick contact with his cheek. He felt the familiar sensation of blood rising to the surface, courtesy of the ring on her finger. He was suddenly twelve again, locked up in a hotel room with the blinds and curtains securely shut, harsh fluorescents flooding the space like a hospital room, treating the wounds his mother had provided in another fit of rage.
There was so much on his tongue, but he couldn’t get any of them past his lips. He continued to stare at her with wide eyes, shoulders sagging with an angry concoction of emotions, none of which he could name. She watched him with critical eyes before letting go of his shirt. The thought of fleeing crossed his mind, but he couldn’t so much as move.
“We’re leaving, Abram.”
He couldn’t open his mouth to object, but Neil would not be leaving with her under any circumstances. His life was better when she was gone, no matter how painful it was to admit it. He continued to stare at her, take in how alive she was. It was impossible, but here she was.
“Now. Tell your teammates you’re not feeling well, gather your things, and leave the building. I’ll be waiting outside.” The blankness of Neil’s face crumbled into a grimace.
“No. What the fuck? No, I’m not leaving with you!” He expected a slap this time, more than a slap. He wasn’t a kid anymore, he was an athlete with more than enough strength to fend the woman off. But he couldn’t bring himself to fight off his mother, no matter how many times she’d raised a hand to him.
“This all could have been avoided if you’d just answered your damn phone.” She pushed him, spitting words laced with anger he’d never seen from his mother before. Her volume grew with each one, until she was almost yelling. He managed to catch himself after a small stumble backward, and she raised her hand again. She had no time to defend herself when the door creaked open.
Andrew was on her in a second.
______
When he heard yelling coming from the lounge, he broke into a sprint. He cursed his hatred for cardio, his bulkier frame kept him from getting to Neil at the speed he would have liked. When he reached the door, he didn’t slow down. He reached for the handle and barrelled into the metal, slamming it open with his continued momentum, and shooting toward the offender.
She had a hand raised to Neil – Andrew saw red.
He barreled into the woman, sending her sprawling backward. He grabbed her arm to keep her upright so her back slammed against the wall with a thud. The knife was already pressed against her throat.
Her eyes went wide, shooting between Andrew and Neil.
“Who are you?”
“What do you mean?” She managed to get out. “I was just interviewing Neil-”
“Don’t give me that bullshit. Neil?”
“She’s-” Neil made a sound like was choking back a sob. It was only then that Andrew glanced over to him, and then that he noticed the blood trailing down his boyfriend’s cheek. His fingers clenched harder around the hilt of his knife, his brain providing detailed images of his boyfriend’s face after returning from the hospital in Baltimore.
The woman gasped as a drop of blood made its way down her throat. “Abram?” he coaxed, not missing the way her mouth fell open just slightly and her eyes twitched at the name.
“It’s my mom.”
His voice was so puny Andrew almost didn’t hear it.
He scanned the woman’s face for any reaction, any similarity between her and the other man, but there was no doubt that the words were true. “What?” She tried. “I’m just a reporter, I sw-”
“Stop it.” He hissed, hands trembling with the urge to slit her throat. “He doesn’t lie to me. Not anymore.”
He glanced back at his boyfriend, who’s broken expression made something roil unpleasantly in his gut. “Is she armed?”
Neil shrugged his answer, eyes seemingly worlds away.
Andrew conducted a search,quite an unpleasant experience for the both of them, and came away clean, silently thanking the metal detectors stationed at every guest entrance.
“Neil,” he said in an attempt to keep the man in the present for just a little longer. “I need you to call coach, and put it on speaker.”
Neil did as he was instructed, working on autopilot.
“The fuck do you want? Aren’t you in an interview?” Wymack’s voice crackled through the speaker.
“Hey, coach.” The older man groaned in response to hearing Andrew’s voice rather than Neil’s. “Remember when you said Neil wouldn’t get beat up?”
The change in pressure on the other side of the line was immediate. “What? What happened?”
“We have an unwelcome guest. I’m bringing her to the foyer.”
“Minyard, what the everloving fuck did you do-” Neil ended the call before they could hear the rest of the coach’s bitching. Andrew nodded his appreciation.
The task of moving Mary to the other room was tedious. Andrew didn’t know if he wanted Neil in front or behind him. If he walked in the front, Andrew could keep an eye on him, but he’d also be closer to Mary.
In the end, Neil was trailing beside him. He kept the knife to the woman’s back as he led her through the halls.
The underclassmen had already left the stadium – the only people remaining were those planning on tagging along to Eden’s later that night, as well as their coach and Abby. Their expressions varied from different degrees of shock to ones of confusion. Matt’s perplexedness morphed to anger the moment he caught sight of Neil’s face.
“Matt,” he said, tipping his head toward the door leading out to the court. He was quick to get the message, leaning on it and effectively blocking it from use. He turned his gaze to Wymack, who huffed and moved to the other after a moment of hesitation.
When Abby finally tore her eyes away from Mary to scan the others that had just entered, she finally caught sight of the blood on Neil’s face. She bounded over to him, immediately fumbling for her supplies in order to wipe the blood from his face and stop more from emerging. She muttered comforts, ones he was sure went right of Neil’s head. Mary eyed the two of them; it was funny, really, how Abby had no children and was a better mother to Neil than she could ever be.
With everyone’s attention on Neil, finally eyeing the result of his and Mary’s interaction, the air in the room went hostile.
“Who is she?” Dan asked, shifting to settle beside Matt. All eyes were on Andrew, the man himself turned to look at Neil, who was still lurking near the door that Wymack guarded.
He turned his glare to Mary and pointed toward the now-empty armchair with his knife. She swallowed thickly and complied, sitting frigidly on the soft cushion.
He slipped his knife back in its sheath, just for a moment, as he approached Neil. He was all but collapsing in on himself, as if he was attempting to shrink. It reminded him of a child trying to hide from the monster in their closet, concealing themselves beneath their covers.
He lifted a hand to the back of his neck. It was still shocking to Andrew how much Neil responded to his touch, how a single point of contact could unwind all of the tension in his shoulders and sharpen the gaze in his eyes. Neither of them broke eye contact until Neil let out a slow, controlled breath.
He led his boyfriend over to the couch, glaring at Allison and Renee until they got the message to move. For once, Allison listened without complaint, and the boys took their spots. Neither of them was big on PDA, but Andrew didn’t quite care at the moment. He snaked his right arm around Neil’s waist, and the taller man sank into his side.
“She’s my mom. Mary.”
The volume in the room went from 0 to 100 in the snap of a finger. Questions were shouted toward him, insults hurled at the woman, shock written on nearly everyone’s faces. Even Renee’s eyes were blown wide, flitting between Neil and the Woman in question.
This went on for nearly a full minute before Dan stepped forward.
“That’s enough!” She shouted, her captain voice as effective as ever. “One at a time. Damn. Neil, why don’t you start? You told us she was dead.”
Despite the wording, there was no accusation in her tone.
Neil sighed, squeezing his eyes shut, whispering under his breath. Andrew had noticed after years spent with the man that Neil tended to count to himself when he was overwhelmed. It wasn’t always out loud, not unless he desperately needed to ground himself, but Andrew could sometimes tell when he was doing it silently. His fists would clench and he’d stare hard at one point until nearly a minute had passed. Andrew rubbed a soothing thumb up and down his side.
“I thought she was. I assumed she was, at least.” He went to scrub a hand over his face before remembering the newly placed bandage. He clenched his fist again, fingernails no doubt digging into his skin, so Andrew grabbed it as gently as he knew how and encouraged Neil to intertwine their fingers. He did so instantly, squeezing Andrew tightly. “You were shot,” he said, addressing Mary pointedly without turning his eyes to her. “You were bleeding out. He was there, the door opened, you told me to run. I didn’t want to, but…
“After you passed out, I tried to take you downstairs, but before I even got out of the room I heard the door open.” His grip on Andrew’s hand grew increasingly tighter – the blonde held him just as hard. “I went out the window.”
Neil swallowed thickly, gaze fixed stubbornly on the floor at his feet. He expertly ignored the gazes of each fox, a collective mix of shock and heartbreak. Andrew took the liberty to gauge their reactions; Nicky already had tears streaming down his face, while Matt’s brows were pinched in barely contained anger.
Silence stretched over the space, aside from Neil’s heavy breathing and Nicky’s occasional sniffles. Andrew took a moment to glance at his boyfriend, to catalog any tics and twitches. To make sure his rabbit wasn’t thinking of running.
His assessment came back inconclusive, so he turned his gaze to Mary. His hold on Neil’s waist tightened protectively when he noticed the woman’s eyes glued to her son.
The silence continued for a few long seconds before she tensed and her eyes narrowed. “How much do they know?”
Her voice was cold, and Neil tensed impossibly further at either the tone or the accusation. That was not the voice of a woman who was happy to see her son again after so many years. Andrew wondered if Neil could hear this too or if this was how the woman had always spoken to him. He wondered why Neil had spent so long grieving over a woman who spoke to him like this.
“Everything.” His voice was quiet like a child expecting a blow, but his eyes were hard and his chin set stubbornly.
The concealed frustration on Mary’s face morphed into anger. Andrew almost saw Neil in the pinch of her brows, but her clenching fists gave her away. Neil was quicker to spit poison words than throw a punch, but from what Andrew had heard, Mary wasn’t quite the same.
Andrew’s glare intensified, Mary finally moved her gaze from her son to the blonde in distaste. Andrew cocked his head to the side, a challenge, and the woman finally looked away.
“Fine,” she began, finally allowing herself to sink from her perch at the edge of the chair to lean her back against the leather. Mary ran a hand over her face with a tired sigh. “I woke up in the hospital. An FBI agent was in my room, and I panicked. When I tried to run, I was stopped by a police officer outside the door. I was injured, in pain, and still delusional from losing so much blood, so I didn’t get very far. The men that came into the house were police – apparently, one of the neighboring houses reported a domestic disturbance.”
Neil bristled at that, remembering the harsh words his mother screamed at him, and the shout he couldn’t manage to hold back when she’d let her fists free.
“I said that Nathan was there, that he was the one who shot me. Partial truths. I told them to investigate him for tax fraud, money laundering, and other little things, enough to at least get people looking into him. Or send him to jail for a little while. They offered me witness protection and I declined. I was discharged against medical advise that same day, and the next day I was in Russia.”
Neil’s eyes were far away. Andrew didn’t quite know what course of action would be best for the rabbit, if he should try to bring him back to the present, or if it was best to let him process her words and compare their stories.
He didn’t have enough time to decide, after a few seconds of contemplation, his eyes became sharp. His look toward Mary was like daggers, pinning her in place. “You didn’t look for me?”
Mary scoffed. “What good would it have done? You never had a phone, and we were too busy running from your monster of a father to plan a spot to meet. For all I knew you’d already been gunned down in the street.”
Andrew saw the exact moment it happened, the precise flicker in Neil’s eyes that meant whatever pedestal he’d put her on for getting him out of Baltimore, for keeping him safe (and what a liberal definition of the word,) was crumbling. Your monster of a father – not ‘the son of a bitch I married of my own volition,’ or ‘the man I chose to have a child with rather than leave on my own.’ No, to her, this was all Neil’s fault.
Because Mary didn’t care, she never had. Not enough. Not the way the foxes did, Wymack and Abby. Never the way Andrew cared.
“I think you should leave.” Neil’s voice was small, but firm. His eyes didn’t waver, he saw every twitch in Mary’s eyes, the downturn of her lips, the crease of her brow.
“I came all the way here for you,” She spat, lurching forward. Andrew was up before Neil could flinch, a knife to her throat once more, and a bruising grip on her wrist. He didn’t let up despite the way the contact seemed to burn his hand. Mary didn’t let up. “You’re the idiot who decided to put your face all over the national news. It is not my fault that you seem to care too little about your own damn life. If it weren’t for me you’d either be dead in that godforsaken basement,” Neil’s body lurched violently, memories of the room taking over his vision as if they were all happening before him at once. His own screams mixed with the innocent men and women that had died there. Andrew’s grip tightened angrily. “Or you’d be his right-hand man-”
Andrew nearly growled, using his hold on her wrist to tug her toward the door that Wymack guarded. He wanted her gone, away from Neil. He wouldn’t let her hurt Neil again, with her hands or her words. “Say another word and I will skin you alive.”
Mary’s eyes widened, and Andrew did not care about whatever memories of Nathan he’d dredged up for her. Not when his boyfriend’s hunched-over shoulders were shaking with the weight of the years of trauma his parents put him through.
And somehow still, Mary found it in herself to push one last time. “It’s bad enough that you’re gay, but the fact that you’re dating a mini-butcher-”
The fist he swung at her was diverted by Wymack, who was now at his back and gripping his arms to keep him off the woman. He fought against the hold, but Wymack was soon joined by Renee, and he was no match for the two of them.
When his arms eventually went lax, their grips loosened but did not disappear.
“I’ll see her out?” His gaze slid to Renee, and he nodded when he recognized Natalie’s cold eyes. He slipped her a knife and nodded.
With one last glare at Mary, with as much sincerity as he could muster, he said “If I ever see you again, I will kill you.”
The room fell silent when the two women left, Mary only coerced by Renee’s less-than-pleasant shove toward the door. Andrew was quick to return to Neil’s side, crouching on the floor with a firm hand on the back of the rabbit’s neck. “You are Neil Josten, Captain of the PSU Foxes,” He whispered.
He ran through the mantra a few times until the shaking of Neil’s shoulders lessened and he finally managed a deep, albeit shaky, breath.
Neil wanted to be surprised when he felt the hot tears on his cheeks, but he wasn’t. The last time he’d cried was when he realized he’d never see his mother again. He was certain she was dead, but he spent a few nights in the back of one of their contact’s shops just in case she showed up. After three days, he accepted the fact that she was not coming back. He cried, imagining his father standing over her body, but only allowed himself a few minutes to grieve before beginning his journey to change his identity, eventually leading up to Millport.
Somehow, this was worse. He wished she was dead, that he could continue viewing her as the woman who had sacrificed her entire life to keep him safe. The only person to give a shit about him before joining the Foxes. But that wasn’t entirely true either – to her, he was a burden, a weight holding her back, and a liability that she simply felt responsible for. She saw the first chance to leave and took it without looking back. Neil meant next to nothing to her.
Andrew’s hand migrated to cup Neil’s face, wiping away the tears with his thumb. Neil melted into the touch, allowing himself to sink into the comfort of his calloused palm. When Neil was breaking, Andrew was firm, strong enough to hold all of his pieces together until he could do it on his own. During his breakdown, Renee slipped quietly back into the room, reassuming her spot on the corner.
When the tears finally stopped, Andrew lifted himself to sit beside Neil on the couch, pulling Neil’s head down until it rested heavily on his shoulder.
It was silent for a moment before Neil began muttering against Andrew’s shoulder.
“I’m sorry for ruining everyone’s night. We were all really excited to see you guys again.” (Andrew wasn’t sure about we.)
He didn’t even have to reprimand his idiot, the rest of the Foxes did it for him.
“Don’t be stupid.” Allison snapped. She at least had the shame look apologetic when Neil flinched slightly at her tone. She spoke quieter. “It’s not your fault, Neil. Understand? We’re not blaming you for your shitty parents, and nothing is ruined. We still have plenty of time to hang out.”
“Yeah,” Neil said. “Just… just not tonight.”
She nodded sadly but didn’t put up a fight.
“Alright,” she agreed. “But tomorrow it’s free game.”
Everyone’s eyes lit up slightly when Neil smiled.
______
“You have to eat something.”
There was no response from the mass under the blankets of Andrew’s bunk, aside from a barely audible groan of protest.
Andrew sighed. He was at a loss – for the past two hours, Neil had done nothing but lay motionless in bed, mind far away and body tense. He’d seen plenty of his boyfriend’s bad days, but none of them compared to this. Neil was usually a giant ball of energy, be it anxious or excited. Normally, bad days for him meant restlessness and paranoia, rabbitting around like one odd noise would spook him into running.
This… this was concerning, to say the very least. Andrew hated to admit that he was worried, but he was far past that now.
He called Bee, who offered to come over. But Andrew knew that would only make it worse. Some of the grounding exercises she offered up worked minutely, but really all there was left for him to do was be there for the man and take care of him as best he could.
“Just a few bites, rabbit.” He tugged on the end of the blanket – they were past asking yes and no for simple touches, like how Andrew wanted to reach out and help pull Neil upward, but on such bad days like this, and with a fresh bandage on Neil’s face, Andrew was not going to risk pushing any limits.
Neil sighed, but slowly pushed himself up until he was sitting with his back pressed against the wall. He moved the blanket beside him, a clear sign for Andrew to occupy the space. The blonde moved slowly, in case Neil changed his mind about the proximity, but when he was finally settled Neil melted into him as if it were too big a chore to hold himself up.
He took the plate from Andrew, picking up a strawberry and nibbling at the end. Watching the hesitation in every one of Neil’s movements made Andrew’s chest tighten slightly, an unpleasant ache in his lungs. It was almost like the Neil that first arrived at Palmetto, everything was calculated down to the last breath. It was like he was trying his best to make himself invisible. This wasn’t the Neil that mouthed off at reporters with that intoxicating smirk, the man so confident it was almost annoying.
If this sent them straight back to square one, if Neil had to retrace every single step to get back to himself…
Andrew would be there to hold his hand. Every damn time.
“I don’t…” Andrew waited for Neil to gather the words. He’d barely spoken since they left the court. “I thought she was dead, and now I kind of wish she was. Is that…?”
“Is it wrong?” Andrew finished for him. Neil kept his gaze on the blueberry he held between his index finger and thumb. He shrugged, embarrassed. “You’re asking the man that killed his own mother. For much less than what Mary did to you.”
Neil contemplated this. His face pinched as if he wanted to continue denying the error of Mary’s ways. But after today, Neil couldn’t. After today, he knew that he’d only ever looked up to her because she was more bearable than his father. “What if I’m like him?”
The words were so quiet that Andrew wouldn’t have heard them if he hadn’t already been listening so intently. He resisted the urge to grab Neil and shake him back and forth until he could knock some sense into that stupid brain. Andrew was silent for a moment, clenching and unclenching his fists until the rage subsided into a more quiet anger.
He wasn’t angry at Neil, both of them knew this. He was angry at Mary, for showing up when she did, for disrupting the life Neil worked so hard to build for himself, for planting those poison seeds in his head. He was mad at her for ever laying a hand on him.
Because Neil was so good. He was the bravest person Andrew had ever met, the most considerate and humble being to ever walk the earth. He didn’t know how long it would take for him to be able to say these things out loud, but for now, he could try his best to show his gratitude.
“Neil.” His name hung in the air until the man in question worked up the nerve to meet his eyes. “Yes or no?”
He nodded quickly, and Andrew didn’t wait to bring their lips together. It was quick, shallow, but he hoped it said all the things he couldn’t get further than his head.
“Don’t ask stupid questions,” He whispered, their foreheads pressed together, a hand cupping Neil’s chin.
He didn’t fully smile, but Andrew caught the twitch at the corner of his lips.
Andrew didn’t know how long it would take for Neil to heal from this, the defaming of an idol long-cherished. But he did know that, no matter what, he’d stick by his side until then.