Chapter Text
Neil races through the densely populated forest as fast as he is able, paws slapping against the tightly compacted dirt. There are no sounds but for the crunch of leaves coming from beneath his feet, and the pounding in his chest. He surveys the area surrounding him, keeping watch out for any attack which may sneak up on him. His ears twitch at the smallest of sounds and his mind runs a mile a minute.
A run in with his fathers men had caused him to flee his less than legal dwelling with haste, rushing to pack his things during his attempt to flee. He had shifted into to his go to form, a rabbit, while speeding off, and hadn’t had a minute to change to back out since. He barely managed to get out, and though not unscathed, he’s lucky to be alive at all. Without his mothers sure guidance and strict adherence to regulations, he had found himself scrambling even stay one step ahead of his father’s men, while she had always stayed at least five leaps beyond them.
A slightly worrying wound, a gash about 3 inches long, had been dealt to his arm, a farewell gift left to him by a particularly persistent attacker. While it wasn’t especially deadly, blood steadily oozed out from the scratch, since he had not yet had a chance to stop and dress it himself. Of course the vigorous running had not helped very much in his favor either. Now he was vulnerable and running on pure adrenaline.
Even though he has probably long since lost his assailants, he isn’t truly safe until he finds shelter. Unfortunately he is quickly growing weaker and needs to find someplace to stop before he passes out in the open.
He stumbles out of the underbrush into a secluded clearing, on the edge of which a house sits which, although it seems to be integrated with overgrown plants and earth, seems to be in good shape. He knows it is an awful idea, and one his mother would beat him to hell and back for, but he bounds towards the door with what little strength he has left. As he steps onto the porch and shifts from rabbit to man, he sends a silent apology to his mother, opens the door and steps inside.
The living room is dark and minimalistic, yet there’s obvious life decorating the area. A cup left on the coffee table, a scarf thrown over back of the couch and a rack with a numerous amount of shoes near the door. Aside from the miscellaneous clutter scattered through the room, a corridor leads deeper into the dwelling.
As Neil’s brain logs all of this information he feels a wave of dizziness strike him, causing him to drop down onto the sofa, a grunt leaving him as his body makes harsh contact with the piece of furniture. He blinks a couple times, a haze of exhaustion washing over him as he slips off. Before he loses consciousness though , he sees a shadow coming from deeper in the house, a man twice his size appearing in the doorway and flicking on a light. His eyes widen in shock, before he shouts back into the house. Neil feels a spark of anxiousness settle over him, before he inevitably drifts off into the darkness awaiting him.
~~~~¥~~~~
The next time he’s come to it’s in an unfamiliar room. This immediately raises Neil’s alarm, and he shoots up, only to wince as he feels a striking pain through his left arm. When he examines it he finds a slightly bloodied bandage wrapped firmly around the wound which previously covered it. He notices the dressing seemed to be done by someone who knew exactly what they were doing, the standard of the wrapping even rivaling his mothers. Neil’s in comparison was nothing but a cloth draped on top of the wound.
He looks out the window and sees that the late dusk has given way to nightfall meaning he hasn't lost too much time. Still the fact that he’s in an un familiar environment is more than enough to not allow the tension to leave him yet.
Suddenly remembering, he frantically reaches inside his shirt to find his amulet in its usual spot, a cord threaded through it wrapped around his neck, and breathes a sigh of relief. He taps the gem, a teardrop shaped sapphire, twice releasing the items held inside. This amulet was a final gift from his mother which held important contacts and information for their survival.
Seeing that they are all safe and sound he is deeply relieved. He momentarily forgets his surroundings, that which he mentally berates himself for, and is startled as two knocks come from the door situated on the opposite side of the room. He quickly relinquishes the items to the amulet. Shortly after the sound the handle spins before the door slowly begins to open.
Neil quickly situates himself in the corner of the bed that leaves his back to the wall. A woman, around mid-thirties, walks into the room with a tray of some sort in her hands. She looks upon the bed and his eyes make contact with hers. Upon seeing his defensive stance she offers a small, kind smile, meaning to be soothing. His noise twitches.
The woman is small and unassuming but carries herself with a sense of surety and confidence that Neil doesn’t assume her unimportant. Her hair is pulled back into a ponytail with hair pins in the shape of a fox holding back her bangs. She is wearing casual clothes that look like they were put on in a hurry.
“I see that you’re feeling a bit better.” She quips, venturing further into the room and setting her tray down on the table beside the bed. “Though I don’t advise too much strenuous activities, your arm is still healing.”
Slightly taken aback by the nonchalant attitude the stranger displayed , Neil is a bit delayed in his reaction.
“Who are you?”
“My name is Abigail, Abby is what everyone calls me though, and I’m the medic for the foxes”
Neil’s heart pounded as the name registered. The foxes are infamous for their miraculous ability to both never get along and yet always having each others backs. If he had inadvertently stumbled upon their headquarters, he cannot stay here.
The woman—Abby—noticed his hesitance and took a careful step forward. “You’re safe here,” she reassured him. “Someone will be here shortly to speak with you.”
Neil’s mind raced, trying to piece together how he had ended up in one of the most dangerous places for someone like him. On the surface,The Foxes were a ragtag group of wannabe heroes, plucked out of the gutter by their director David Wymack, but couldn’t get their heads together long enough to form a cohesive thought before one of them posed to bite, causing their teamwork to be considerably lacking.
This alone isn’t what has Neil sweating. Word was that Kevin Day has joined the foxes after a mission gone wrong had caused an injury which was “career ending” in the words of the ravens, which was little more than a dismissal of Kevin as being useless. If Kevin was here in the fox den then Neil couldn’t be caught dead anywhere near him.
Before Neil could ask more, heavy footsteps echoed down the hallway. The door swung open wider, revealing a tall, broad-shouldered man with an air of authority. His presence filled the room, leaving Neil buzzing with anxious energy.
He had tattoos of blazing fire going up both of his forearms, a testament to his ability to control and generate flames. He’s wearing a black dress shirt with the first two buttons undone, sleeves rolled up to his forearm, just about above his elbow, along with a pair of jeans hemmed to fall over the top of his boots. His hair was gelled back out of his face but was tousled in a way that indicated he had styled it a while ago and had yet to wash it out, a few strands falling into his face. His eyes were stern and he carried a no nonsense expression on his face. There was no doubt in Neil’s mine who this man was.
David Wymack looked him over with a scrutinizing gaze. “You’re lucky we found you when we did,” he said, his voice a low rumble. “Not too much longer and you might’ve bled out on my doorstep”
Neil’s heart pounded in his chest. The man exuded an aura which commanded speech, which inadvertently made Neil want to remain silent. “It was a mistake.” he finally said, keeping his voice low and guarded.
Wymack’s eyes narrowed, a flicker of concern strikes through the suspicion. “What are you doing all the way out here, kid?”
“Nothing,” he said, and after a brief hesitation, added, “nothing that concerns you”
Wymack exchanged a glance with Abby before returning his focus to Neil. “I’m pretty sure, whether you like it or not, it now concerns me,” he said, his tone gruff but not unkind. “A kid showing up half dead on our porch doesn’t exactly scream ‘unconcerning’ does it?”
Neil swallowed, feeling the weight of Wymack’s presence. “I’m not here to cause trouble,” he said, forcing himself to meet Wymack’s gaze. “I was running, and ended up here completely on accident. I truly just had nowhere else to go.” He placated.
They held each others gaze for a considerable amount of time, Wymack’s eyes burning into his own, as if searching for something before he finally spoke up.
“What’s your name?”
“Neil, Neil Josten”
“If you’re in danger Neil, we can help.” He finally spoke, which catches Neil off guard, a wave of confusion coming over him. Why would this man who knows nothing about him offer him aid?
“And what do you want me to do for you,” he bluntly speaks, voice colored with both disbelief and apprehension. “You don’t know me and are not under any obligation to help me, so why would you?” He asks, weary of his easily offered protection.
Wymack shares a look with Abby, then strides towards Neil and takes a seat in the chair directly opposite of the bed before he shares his thoughts. “I have an innate ability that draws people to me when they need it, and when you crashed on our couch, what I felt from you was special.” he explained his gaze intense and tone serious. “I’ve felt it in all of my foxes once before, and have never been wrong about this feeling once,” though previously avoiding Neil’s eyes, he makes direct contact before he continues. “I don’t know what your running from, but something brought you here, and I will do my best to keep you safe.”
“I can’t stay here”
“Just stay the night, then.” Wymack concludes, his voice leaving little to no room for discussion. “Take a minute to think about it, heal up a little and if tomorrow night you still want to leave, then you can go. I won’t stop.” He raises one eyebrow in Neil’s direction. Neil’s ear flicks in annoyance. His head is racing telling him he has to leave, that there’s no telling what these people will do with him. It’s the part that his mother instilled in him all these years, the part that’s kept him alive.
Neil knows that staying here is asking for trouble, even if Kevin doesn’t recognize him. Unfortunately for Neil he’s got a suicidal streak a mile long and tends to listen to the less rational side of his brain. That part of his brain is tired of running, looking over his shoulder, and running to survive. It’s temporary, eventually he will have to leave again, but for tonight he’ll pretend to have a chance to live.
“Fine.”
“Then it’s settled, now we’ll leave alone till the morning, try to get some rest, kid.” Wymack rises from his chair and crosses the room and leaves through the door, abby following with the tray of soiled bandages close behind.
Once Neil is alone his head suddenly begins to spin and he’s struck with a wave of nausea. He rushes to the bathroom room connected to his room and dry heaves into the toilet. What is wrong with me he thinks, I know better than this, my mother would kill me if she saw me now. Neil’s head spins with the weight of broken promises and treacherous hope. Staying here he risks ruining all of what his mother has made for him, wasting the life she traded for his own.
He makes his way back to the bed, and pushes it to the corner of the room that gives him the best vantage point in case he needs to escape quickly. Once that’s done he reaches inside his shirt and pulls out his pendant, rubbing his thumb across it. He won’t let his mothers sacrifice be in vain.
He lays down and falls in to sleep moments after his head hits the pillow exhaustion taking over.