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talk me down

Summary:

It’s not unusual for Andrew to be startled awake. What is unusual though, is for him to be woken up by what sounds like a pan falling on the floor.

Neil starts sleepwalking, and it's silly at first, but then things go wrong.

Notes:

I first had the idea of Neil sleepwalking because I was thinking of how his trauma could influence his sleep apart from nightmares. I did some research and found out that anxiety, stress, childhood trauma and ptsd increases the risk of sleepwalking. I also found out that sleepwalkers can eat stuff they normally wouldn’t eat and act out what they are dreaming, and that’s how this fic was born. Nevertheless, that doesn’t make me an expert on sleepwalking, so this should be taken with a pinch of salt and I’m sorry if it doesn’t seem realistic. During the writing process it completely slipped away from me and became so much more than just neil sleepwalking, but still l like how it turned out.

Anyways, as always I hope you enjoy it :)

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

It’s not unusual for Andrew to be startled awake. It’s also not unusual for that to happen because of Neil. Their nightmares take turns in waking up both of them. It’s impossible for one of them to wake up without also waking the other, so they’d created a routine pretty quickly.

When it’s Neil who wakes up screaming, haunted by the ghosts of his past, Andrew’s hand will land in its spot on Neil’s neck, grounding him together with Andrew’s words, Your name is Neil Josten, you are a fox, you belong here. Then Andrew will make hot chocolate for himself and tea for Neil, and he’ll sit next to Neil on the couch, waiting until Neil’s eyes can focus again and he comes back from whatever limbo his consciousness banished him to. They’ll share a cigarette and wait for sunrise together. Neil used to go on a run after that, but recently he decided to drop that habit. He only wants to go on runs when he’s not running away from something.

When it’s Andrew who wakes up sweaty and breathing heavily it can go two ways: sometimes all Andrew needs is some distance, to feel himself as the only owner of his body. He’ll sit on the balcony of their apartment and smoke cigarette after cigarette, scratching at his scars, and Neil will wait in the living room for Andrew to come back to himself, to come back to him.

Neil never doubts that he will.

However, sometimes Andrew doesn’t need distance. He needs familiarity. He needs the comfort of knowing with no doubt that the man in his bed, the man he wakes up with, is Neil. So they’ll lay together on the bed, and Andrew will trace Neil’s scars with his fingers over and over again, and engrave their exact shape and position in his brain. Neil is confident Andrew could draw a perfectly accurate picture of his body with all of his scars in their correct place.

So, it’s not unusual for Andrew to be startled awake. What is unusual though, is for him to be woken up by what sounds like a pan falling on the floor.

Now, Andrew is pretty sure that the two gremlins they call cats don’t have the ability to open the drawer they keep their pans in, take one out and drop it on the floor. He also does not believe in ghosts. His first instinct is to retrieve his knives, but then his mind registers one important detail: the bed is empty next to him. Andrew’s brain, still foggy from having just woken up, takes a while to process that Neil got up without him noticing. He decides to deal with that later in favour of investigating what the fuck is happening in the kitchen.

Andrew slips out of the bed and pulls on a shirt before venturing in their kitchen-living room area. All the lights are still turned off, and Andrew is getting more confused by the second.

“Neil?” He tries to call out, but there’s no answer.

Another banging noise in the kitchen. Andrew advances in the dark, squinting his eyes to see better, and finds Neil standing in the middle of the kitchen. His hair is sticking in every possible direction on one side of his head and completely flat on the other, and he’s still only dressed in the boxers he wears to bed. Andrew raises an eyebrow and eyes the thermostat on the wall, which clearly states it’s way too fucking cold for Neil to be walking around the house in boxers at 4am.

“Neil,” Andrew calls again, louder this time, “care to explain what you’re doing?”

For a solid two minutes Neil doesn’t say anything. Then, he crouches down and starts feeling the floor with his hands until he finds the pan he presumably dropped, waking Andrew up. Just as Andrew is about to ask again, he realizes Neil is mumbling something under his breath. Andrew gets closer and strains his ears.

“Grilled cheese.” Neil is mumbling “grilled cheese” over and over.

Well. Isn’t that just a brilliant explanation.

Neil turns around and opens the fridge while Andrew turns on the lights. Andrew sits on one of the stools by the kitchen island and observes as Neil takes out four different types of cheese and, inexplicably, jam. The frown on Andrew’s face deepens. He’s familiar with Neil’s taste for debatable food combos, a result of having to put together a decent meal with whatever he had available on the run. He’s seen Neil eat celery with barbecue sauce, to his disgust. The thing is, he knows for a fact Neil hates jam, but right now he seems completely unbothered as he opens the cabinets to look for a knife

“What are you doing with the jam?” He asks, but Neil is on a mission, and he somehow manages to take out the butter knife. He sinks it into the jam and then proceeds to lick it clean.

Neil spits out into the sink and slams the jar so hard on the counter Andrew is surprised it doesn’t shatter. “I hate jam”, he says, voice full of frustration. Andrew has no idea what the fuck is up with him, and his confusion is quickly turning into annoyance.

“Sit down, idiot,” he just really wants to go back to sleep. He gets up and pushes Neil on the now vacant stool, and Neil sprawls on the kitchen island. Andrew makes the grilled cheese from him, and when he’s done he stares silently as Neil munches on his food. Neil’s eyes are glassy and barely open.

“I will not carry you to bed if you fall asleep here.”

Neil says nothing as he gets up to leave his plate in the sink. Andrew follows him as he walks back to the bedroom, and Neil starts snoring lowly only a few seconds after he’s back in bed.

Andrew huffs and leaves to smoke a cigarette before joining Neil in bed.

______________________________________________________

The following morning, Andrew is reading a book on the couch when Neil emerges from their room. This time he had the sense to put on a shirt and sweatpants. He pets the cats on Andrew’s lap, mumbling a good morning with a groggy voice. He goes to the kitchen and makes an affronted noise, “Didn’t even wait for me to have breakfast. Asshole.”

Andrew turns the page and doesn’t even bother looking up “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Neil snorts, “Oh yeah? Then I guess one of the cats used the plate in the sink.”

Andrew’s fingers falter on the page. He turns around and sends Neil a pointed look, “That’s the one you used last night, idiot.”

It makes no sense for Neil to look this confused. He looks at the plate, then back at Andrew, and says “What the hell are you talking about?”

Now it’s Andrew’s turn to be confused, again. Is it possible that Neil was so tired that he forgot about his little late night snack?

“Neil. You came into the kitchen to make grilled cheese last night.”

Neil’s frown deepens, “No I didn’t.”

“Yes, Neil. You woke me up when you dropped the pan on the floor. I made the grilled cheese for you.”

“Andrew, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Andrew thinks he’s gonna get a headache, because this doesn’t make any sense. He crosses his arms, “So you’re telling me you don’t remember?”

Neil huffs in annoyance, “I think I would remember if I got up in the middle of the night and ate fucking grilled cheese.”

“So your theory is that I’m making this up?”

Neil huffs in annoyance, “No. I’m just- I don’t know. Whatever. I have to meet up with Kevin to watch matches.”

With that, Neil goes back to their room to get dressed. Andrew tries to go back to his book, but all his concentration is now elsewhere. Something about this whole situation isn’t adding up, but Andrew can’t figure it out.

______________________________________________________

A few weeks pass, but Andrew doesn’t forget about it. Andrew can’t forget about it, just like every other information that is permanently stuck in his brain, no matter how useful or traumatic.

After a few days spent mulling it over, he decides that Neil was exhausted enough to get up in a state of half-awareness and then promptly forget all about it. It’s a plausible enough theory, and even if something was still fishy, Andrew didn’t deem it an event troubling enough for him to continue thinking about it. Life went on as usual, only nightmares waking them up at night.

Except, it happens again.

3 weeks after the grilled cheese adventure, Andrew is woken up by Neil getting out of bed. It takes a few seconds for Andrew’s still half-asleep mind to register the shift of weight on the bed. At first, he thinks this is one of Neil’s nightmares that creeps slowly into his mind, waking him with trembling limbs and voice locked in his throat instead of screams. He gets up and goes looking for Neil into the apartment, expecting to find him waiting for him on the balcony.

Neil is not on the balcony. Neil is doing an asian squat in front of the dishwasher.

Andrew goes to stand next to him and looks at the dishwasher, trying to figure out what it is exactly that Neil is doing.

“Neil. What is it?”

Neil keeps staring at the dishwasher, “I need to wash my jersey.”

The corner of Andrew’s mouth twitches. Neil is not making any sense, and this situation feels a lot like the grilled cheese night. Something isn’t right, and Andrew’s frustration only grows as he feels the answer he’s looking for brushing at the corners of his mind.

But then he actually takes the time to consider Neil’s words. He turns around and looks at the hangers next to their front door. He can see his leather jacket, Neil’s heavy coat ready for winter, Kevin’s windbreaker he forgot there the last time he visited. Andrew knows Neil’s jersey was there when he came home, but it sure as hell isn’t now. Finally, Andrew turns back to the dishwasher and realizes- it’s on.

Andrew pushes Neil out of the way and wrenches the machine open. He’s so stupidly shocked, he almost lets out a laugh. Inside the dishwasher, spread out on the rack, is Neil’s jersey. Neil was trying to wash his jersey in the dishwasher.

He turns to Neil, who fell on his ass when Andrew pushed him.

“Josten, what the-” the words die in his mouth as he finally takes a look at Neil’s face. Neil is sitting there, arms behind him to keep himself up, apparently conscious- but something is wrong with him.

Neil is looking straight ahead, but his eyes aren’t focused, and they’re so void of emotion Andrew might think he’s looking into his reflection. The rest of his face is relaxed and empty, like it’s not connected to his mind.

“Neil,” Andrew calls, but there’s no shift in Neil’s expression that indicates he even hears him. “Neil, can you see me?” Andrew tries again, but it’s like he’s not even there. Neil gets up then, and goes straight to the bedroom, without looking back.

Andrew sits down on the floor and stares at the jersey. He tries to recall the details from the grilled cheese episode and associate them with what happened tonight. Glassy and void eyes. Nonsensical actions and words. Confusion. Lack of coordination. No recollection of what happened the day after.

Andrew goes back into the bedroom and finds Neil sound asleep, as if he’d never even left the bed, and he thinks he knows what’s going on. The question now is how to act on it.

______________________________________________________

Andrew isn’t surprised when, the following day, Neil is confused when he finds his jersey hanging to dry. He feels the wet material between his fingers and turns to Andrew with furrowed brows, “Did you put this in the washer yesterday?”

Andrew doesn’t say anything for a couple of minutes. He takes the time to process that Neil once again doesn’t remember anything about what happened the night before and how that must mean that yes, his theory is right. What he doesn’t know is how Neil will react.

He sits down on the couch and says, “Sit down.”

He can feel Neil hesitating for a second behind him before he joins him on the couch. Andrew knows that Neil knows him enough to have figured out something’s up.

“You got up last night and put the jersey in the dishwasher, claiming it needed to be washed.”

Neil’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise “Wh-”

Andrew interrupts him before he can start asking questions, “A couple weeks ago, you got up to make grilled cheese. Both times, you were up and moving, but unresponsive and incoherent. Your eyes were unfocused, and you think neither of those episodes happened.”

Andrew allows a couple seconds of silence to let his words sink in. Neil looks surprised, but not as much as he should be. There’s something else in his expression that Andrew can’t decipher.

“You’re sleepwalking, Neil.”

Neil’s eyes widen and he scoffs, “That’s ridiculous.”

Andrew waves his hand in a dismissive gesture, “Don’t waste my time refusing to accept something you know is true.”

“It’s ridiculous, Andrew. Just because I got up to do crazy shit and forgot about it doesn’t mean I’m sleepwalking.”

“Enlighten me on what you think is happening, then.”

Neil crosses his arms, and scoffs. “Nothing is happening. I’ve been staying out late with Kevin most nights to watch matches, it’s probably just exhaustion making me forget.”

It’s a common occurrence for Neil to be stubborn, Andrew is well aware, but he usually has enough sense in him to accept something when it’s so obvious.

“You didn’t answer when I spoke to you. You ate jam and spat it out. You were looking straight at me and your eyes weren’t focused. I don’t think exhaustion makes you do all that. You’re not a child, Neil. Stop looking for excuses and accept reality.”

Neil looks like he wants to argue again, but then he gets that look on his face again and stops himself. Something isn’t right, but Andrew knows what it is now.

“It seemed to me you were done lying.”

Neil frowns and makes an offended face, “I haven’t lied to you.”

“I thought we agreed that lying by omission is still lying.”

Andrew knows he caught him when Neil shuts his mouth and his shoulders tense. A real deer caught in headlights.

Andrew leans forward, “Tell me what you’re hiding from me.”

Neil closes his eyes and sighs. When he opens them again, there’s an uneasiness Andrew knows. It’s the look Neil gets when he has to reveal a truth about himself that he’s buried deep within.

“It’s already happened before.”

Andrew wasn’t expecting that. Andrew never fooled himself to believe he knew everything about Neil, just as Neil didn’t know everything about him. Their pasts were endless laybirths of trauma and horrors, and going down every path to resurface every detail would be masochistic. However, Andrew thought this should’ve been important enough for Neil to tell him.

Andrew motions with his hand for Neil to keep going, and Neil does with a sigh.

“At some point during our time in Europe, my mother managed to craft a fake identity for us and find a job in a hotel. It was a good place to stay hidden. During all our time on the run, that’s the only occasion I can remember having a real bed to sleep in. But then, I started sleepwalking. I’d go around the room, open the fridge, mess with the towels, little things like that. But then,” Neil’s fingers fiddle with the zipper of his hoodie as he sucks in a short breath, “one night I left the room. A member of the staff had to bring me back to our room. My mom started staying up to see what was happening with me. When she realized what was going on, she tried to beat the habit out of me every time it happened.”

Andrew’s jaw clenches and his fists tighten in his pockets. Andrew tries to refrain from saying anything bad about Mary because he knows Neil loved her despite her “methods”, but the reality is that Andrew wants to strangle that woman every time he learns something new about her.

“It stopped when my mom let me keep the gun under my pillow. It never happened again since then, but today and the morning after the grilled cheese thing, I woke up feeling disoriented and more tired than usual. It was the same feeling from back then.”

Neil looks up at Andrew with a hint of guilt in his expression, “I didn’t say anything because I thought it would be a one time thing.”

Andrew has to refrain himself from trying to strangle the stupidity out of him.

“Are your survival instincts too rusty to work anymore?”

Neil frowns, “There’s no need to make a big deal out of this. It’s probably gonna stop with time.”

“Sure. And when you decide you want to use a knife? Think your knife wielding abilities will transfer over to your sleepwalking consciousness?”

Neil scoffs, “We can just lock the door so I don’t go anywhere.”

“I’m not going to sleep with the door locked in my own home.”

Andrew doesn’t feel guilty when Neil flinches. He knows Neil will understand before he can see it on his face. It took Andrew (and Neil) way too long to build the safety he feels in this bed, in this house. The reassurance of knowing this is a safe space, with Neil and their cats. With no reason for him to have his guard up. Sleeping with a locked door would be equal to breaching that safety and backtracking on all his progress. An unspoken “there is something that will hurt you outside this door”.

“You should talk to Betsy.”

Neil moves away from him on the couch, looking at him with an expression that is equal parts annoyance and discomfort, “I know you trust her, but there’s no way in hell I’m talking to her. And even if I wanted to, there’s nothing she can do to stop this.”

“Maybe she can find out what in that messed up head of yours is causing it.”

Neil pauses and furrows his brows, “What do you mean?”

Andrew closes his eyes and rests his head back on the couch. After Neil had gone back to sleep the night before, he’d spent an indefinite amount of time lying awake in bed, thinking. Neil Josten would be an endless enigma, but solving him had never been much of an issue to Andrew.

Even before he knew this had happened before, Andrew thought it wouldn't be so shocking if Neil really was sleepwalking. Over the years, Andrew and Neil had found themselves revealing their demons to each other countless times. From the first tentative truths conceded on the rooftop of Fox Tower, to long talks in the car going on a road trip, to whispered conversations and comforting touches in the bed of the home they made for themselves.

Andrew knows the rotting parts of Neil’s psyche just as much as Neil knows his. He knows Neil had to get used to the feeling of his mother’s trembling body holding him at night. He knows Neil can sleep comfortably with a gun under his pillow out of habit. He remembers the strain of Neil’s voice as he told him of how he was driven to borderline insomnia, when he couldn’t sleep due to anxious puking all night. The consecutive sleepless nights after his mother’s death, too scared that he would be next to sleep.

All things considered, it actually makes sense that Neil would develop some kind of habit because of the stress and fear of being on the run, and that it would resurface now. After all, Neil never agreed to talk to a therapist. Two decades of trauma are sitting in his brain unprocessed, and Andrew doesn’t think it’s a coincidence this happened shortly after Neil decided to change his running habits, which were the only coping mechanism he knew.

“You stopped going on runs when you have bad days. That restlessness has to find another outlet. Your fractured psyche is acting out as a result.”

Silence follows. Andrew opens one eye to check on Neil, but his expression is unreadable. Finally, he takes a deep breath and sends Andrew a stony look, “I don’t need a therapist. I can figure this out on my own.”

Andrew has finished his supply of patience to put up with Neil’s bullshit tonight, “Oh I’m glad. Do you plan to figure it out before you decide to go for a drive while sleepwalking and end up dead in a ditch?”

Neil rolls his eyes, “Drama queen. Just hide the car keys. It’s not a big deal.”

“Neil-”

Neil interrupts him while standing up, “This conversation is over.” With that, he goes to their room and slams the door shut. Andrew clenches his jaw and stares at the closed door. He wonders idly if Neil is going back on his promise to stop running.

______________________________________________________

“Would you like to tell me what is stealing your attention from our conversation?”

Andrew lazily looks up from his mug to look at Bee. He takes some time to notice how her face has changed over the years. The smiles lines around her mouth and the wrinkles around her eyes pop out with every slight shift of her expression. He can see the gray hair poking out in the roots of her hair. She still uses the same perfume she’s used for years, and the familiarity of it brings an ache to Andrew’s chest he’s slowly learning to embrace instead of stomping it out.

Over the years, Andrew and Bee worked together to cut down on their weekly meetings. Nowadays, they meet every three weeks or whenever Andrew feels the necessity. Of course, they still talk and text frequently. Andrew will never try to hide their bond or his affection for her. She’d worked hard enough to earn it.

Her smile is as peaceful as ever as she waits for his response. He knows she’s not annoyed he's not paying attention, she’s genuinely interested in knowing what’s driving his mind elsewhere.

Andrew sighs and stirs his hot cocoa slowly, “Neil.”

Bee’s smile turns sweeter than the drink in their hands. Andrew rolls his eyes, but he’s not remotely as annoyed as he wants her to believe. Despite Neil’s continuous defensive and distrusting attitude towards her, Bee had become quite fond of him and of their relationship. She’d once told him she would always be grateful to Neil for the role he played in Andrew’s life. Andrew hadn’t known how to respond to that, but he’d grabbed her hand when Bee had reached for him. It was enough for her.

“Did something happen between you two?”

Andrew took a sip from his mug before answering, “He’s sleepwalking. He told me he used to do it when he was on the run with his mother.”

Bee doesn’t seem fazed by the news. She hums and cocks her head in thought. She reaches for a cookie from the container on her desk and munches on it before answering, “I can’t say I’m surprised.”

Andrew cocks an eyebrow, silently urging her to continue. Bee sets down the mug on her wooden coaster, a gift from Andrew, and clasps her hands on her desk.

“Well, you’ve mentioned he has just as much trouble sleeping as you, so I’m guessing there must be some related trauma in his past. Studies show that people who suffer from anxiety, stress, childhood trauma and PTSD are subject to an increased risk of sleepwalking. Add all of that up and it’s not so weird that Neil would be one of those cases. It also makes sense that it would happen again now that Neil has an even bigger mental baggage.”

Andrew sank further into the armchair with a sigh, “I told him I thought some psychological factor had brought the habit back and that he should talk to you, but he enjoys making my life more difficult.”

Bee’s eyes take on a softer look, “You’re worried about him.”

It’s not a question, because if it was Andrew wouldn’t answer, and Bee already knows anyway. They’d had a session shortly after Baltimore, and even though Bee hadn’t known yet about what was going on between him and Neil, seeing how much it affected Andrew was enough for Bee to understand that Neil had become a person Andrew could not afford to lose. After that, she managed to coax bits and pieces of their relationship out of Andrew.

Andrew picks at a loose thread of the armchair and doesn’t look at Bee when he speaks again, “The first two episodes were relatively harmless, but there’s no telling what he could do next.”

He crosses his arms after realizing his fingers are shaking. Neil was too blinded by his own annoyance and confusion when they discussed this, otherwise he would have realized in a heartbeat why Andrew was being so insistent that this was serious and he had to do something about it. The idea of Neil not being in control of his mind or his body while laying beside him made bile rise in Andrew’s throat.

Bee sighs and her forehead creases. She has that look on her face she always has when she’s about to tell Andrew something he doesn’t want to hear.

“I know you’re worried about him, and I am too. But facing the issue with a therapist, whether it be me or anyone else, is a choice he has to make for himself. He would make no progress if he did it for you. I know you hate when things are out of your control, but all you can do for the moment is look out for him.”

She pauses to level him a more serious stare, “What I’m more worried about is a phenomenon called dream-acting.”

Andrew can already tell he’s not going to enjoy this, “What is that?”

“It’s a phenomenon that can occur during a sleepwalking episode. It’s not very common, but it can happen. It involves the person acting out what they’re dreaming, as if actually living the situation. That includes nightmares”

Andrew curses before he can stop himself. “That is going to be a problem.”

Bee rests back against her chair, “You need to keep an eye on him, Andrew. There’s no telling how serious it could get if Neil was to experience this. But it does only happen to a small percentage of people. We have to hope Neil won’t be one of them.”

Ever the optimist, Andrew thinks. If he’s learnt one thing in his life, it’s that hope is no good for people like him and Neil.

______________________________________________________

Things are fine for a while. A few weeks go by after his session with Bee, and a couple more incidents occur. One time, Neil gets up to brush the cats. Another time, he turns the tv on a random channel and stares blankly at it for a good 45 minutes. A couple nights later, he stands in the middle of the living room and mumbles nonsensically to himself.

Every time, Andrew follows him out of the room and watches him from a corner to make sure the idiot doesn’t do anything stupid. Bee warned him that it’s better to let the episode run its course and not wake Neil up, as that could cause even more distress on his consciousness. So, Andrew watches and waits while smoking a cigarette.

They argue about it a couple more times, and eventually Andrew gives up. No matter what Andrew says Neil won’t budge. Bee told him it should be Neil’s decision, anyways.

A month after Andrew’s session with Bee, they go to bed together like every other night. They had a nice day. The morning spent lazing around, Andrew eating chocolate pretzels with his legs resting on Neil’s lap, Neil tapping his fingers on the bone jutting out on Andrew’s ankle while explaining in detail how ridiculous the police show they were watching was. In the afternoon, they went to Nicky’s house because Aaron was in town with his daughter. Andrew studied Neil’s expression as he was interacting with Alice, now 5 years old. He remembers every detail of every wrinkle that appeared around Neil’s eyes as he smiled when the little girl pulled his hair.

When they came home, Andrew couldn’t keep himself away from Neil’s lips. As the years passed, Andrew had started to realize that he lived his life constantly oriented towards Neil. The entirety of his day seemed like an interlude between the last kiss and the next. His hands felt cold without Neil’s skin under them. His world felt tilted without Neil next to him, balancing it out.

Andrew falls asleep with the shape of Neil’s lips branded on his mouth, and he wakes to the feeling of Neil’s body tearing away from the bed.

Alarms are immediately ringing in Andrew’s head, because this isn’t like other nights. This isn’t Neil getting up slowly and sloppily to go do something dumb. This is Neil running for his life, something he was never supposed to need to do after his father’s death.

Andrew is out of bed in seconds and running after him. He hears a crash as soon as he enters the room and sees their key plate on the floor, all their keys scattered on the floor. Neil is on his knees, feeling the floor and mumbling under his breath, just like that first time he sleepwalked, but the situation couldn’t be more different

Neil is moving so frantically, Andrew thinks he can see him blurring at the edges. His eyes are hazy and unfocused like the other times, but they’re wide open and filled with panic. Andrew knows what he’s looking for. Neil’s keys still carry the keychain Andrew had bought him years ago, the orange fur of the fox now old and ruined. The key of the Columbia house is still there, together with a key to Wymack’s house and a key to Aaron’s house (“Only for emergencies, for Alice”, he’d said begrudgingly”). Holding them in his palm, feeling the shape against his skin, still brings Neil comfort. Andrew can’t see the keys, and guesses they must’ve ended up under a piece of furniture.

Andrew makes the mistake of moving towards Neil to help him find them.

Andrew sees Neil’s body shift and tense as he feels someone’s presence close to him. Neil turns away from him fast as a whip and starts crawling away, legs dragging on the floor. Andrew kneels on the floor, ready to try and calm him down, when Neil speaks.

“No. No. Stay away.”

Andrew stills. There’s a strain to Neil’s voice that he hasn’t quite heard before.

Neil gets to the door, but the locked knob doesn’t give away under the desperate pull of his fingers. He tries to push himself up, but his legs don’t move.

A sob crawls out of Neil’s throat.

“My legs. I can’t feel them, Dad, what did you do? What did you do to me?”

Andrew is so tense he thinks he might strain a muscle. He understands what’s happening. It took a long time for Neil to manage to tell him his recurring nightmare, the worst out of all of them, because it had almost become real. Andrew wanted to bring Nathan Wesninski back from the dead just to cut every single one of his tendons with a butter knife for ever threatening he’d do the same to Neil. This is what Bee had warned him about, but Andrew had no idea it would be this bad.

A scratching sound snaps him out of his trance, and he realizes Neil is scratching at the door, nails dragging down the wood in desperation. Little hiccups push out of Neil’s throat.

Andrew knows he has to do something. He needs to help Neil, he-

“Please don’t. Help.

Andrew flinches so hard he can feel his body spasm. He recoils and ends up with his back against the opposite wall without realizing. On the other side of the room, Neil is curling himself up, making himself small, invisible, like he’d had to do countless times before in hopes to survive, and Andrew feels dizzy.

Reality comes to a stop, the world goes quiet. Neil is still in front of him, but Andrew can’t see him anymore. All he can see is a small boy, hiding out in the bathroom and praying for someone to help him. A boy looking desperately for an escape. A boy who can do nothing more than bow his head and hope it will be over soon.

Looking at Neil, he remembers the helplessness of not being able to escape, and his head spins so fast he thinks he might actually be sick. Neil is sobbing, and Andrew has to go to him, but this is too much. He can feel a panic attack prodding at his mind. He grits his teeth and clenches his fist so hard his nails sink into the skin of his palms.

His breathing starts to speed up, and he feels helpless all over again, because Neil needs him. Neil, who trusted him blindly even when he had no reason to. Neil, who looked at him with a thousand questions and a million answers in his eyes when Andrew had given him a key. Neil, who would let himself be broken time and time again before letting Andrew be touched.

Neil says something, and even though Andrew can’t hear him the fog in his mind disperses enough for him to hear him when he speaks again.

“Andrew.”

Andrew stops breathing.

In the midst of his own personal hell, head bowed like a sinner, Neil calls his name, and Andrew’s soul shakes in response.

Andrew will always keep a safe emotional distance from everyone he cares about. He’ll always be a protector first, and a person second. He’s had his feelings on display before, and the consequences were almost fatal. Andrew will never let himself make that mistake again. However, the rawest truth about Andrew Minyard is that he is made to love, and he will let himself be torn apart again and again to give his loved ones what he can’t give himself. He couldn't save the small boy, but he will burn the whole world down before he fails to save Neil.

Andrew takes a deep breath and shuffles closer to Neil. He’s still curled in a ball and shaking violently, but he seems calmer now. Bee had told him that waking up a person while they’re sleepwalking could be even more stressful. Andrew has no choice, but Andrew and Neil, a monster and a lie, have taught each other how to be human again, and he knows what he has to do.

He slowly gets closer to Neil, careful to not startle him, and when he’s close enough, he quickly takes Neil’s hand and presses it against his forearm. Neil immediately flinches and grasps at Andrew’s arm before freezing. His empty eyes are wide open and set to the floor, but his fingers slowly loosen up and start feeling the raised lines on Andrew’s skin, just like Andrew does with Neil’s.

Andrew drags his other hand up from Neil’s shoulder to the back of his neck and squeezes. His voice is rough when he speaks, “Neil, you’re okay. Wake up.”

Neil blinks a couple of times, and Andrew sees his eyes finally starting to focus as awareness begins to roll in.

“You’re okay. You’re safe. I’ve got you.”

Neil slowly comes back to himself and silent tears break free from his eyelashes as he strokes Andrew’s arms, and Andrew repeats those words over and over like a mantra. Neil leans forward and rests his forehead on Andrew’s shoulders, his heartbeat slowly decelerating.

They stay like that for a while. The sun starts peeking out over the horizon, and at some point the cats join them to lay between their legs.

An eternity passes before Neil is able to speak.

“You were right.”

His voice is strained and feeble, and something twists in Andrew’s stomach.

“That is a surprise to no one.”

Neil lets out a little snort. His hands are still resting on Andrew’s forearms, and he starts tenderly stroking them again.

“I wanted to stop running away from ghosts, but I didn’t think they’d chase me down. I didn’t want to accept it. I’m sorry.”

Andrew resists the urge to pinch him, “Don’t say stupid things.” He can feel Neil’s smile pressing against his neck.

Later, as they’re sitting together on the couch with mugs warming their hands, Neil turns to look at him with a tired but determined expression.

“I want to try out seeing a therapist. But I don’t think it should be Betsy.”

Andrew would never expect Neil to want to be Bee’s patient just because of their bond, and he will never have the presumption to think he has any right to tell Neil what he should do.

“We can start looking for someone tomorrow. Bee will have recommendations.”

Neil smiles and some tension leaves his shoulders. He holds his palm up and looks at Andrew expectantly. Andrew stares at it for a couple seconds just to be difficult, but eventually he links their fingers together.

Andrew will always find his way back to him, and so will Neil.

Notes:

fun fact #1: the part where Neil can’t find his keys and Andrew can’t see them either was meant to symbolize them momentarily losing their way to each other

fun fact #2: I was listening to the soundtrack of the perks of being a wallflower on repeat as I was writing this

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