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Neil doesn’t fight–Charlie, of all people, knows this. None of them really do, but Neil especially doesn’t. Neil is the one defusing the fights before they can come to blows.
Mostly between Charlie and whoever’s unlucky enough to catch him in a mood–it just usually happens to be Cameron.
It’s why he doesn’t believe Neil the day he comes back after rehearsal covered in blood.
“It’s not my blood.”
“You don’t know how to throw a punch, Neil, I’ve tried to teach you. I think Todd would manage it better than you. What happened?”
“Someone stopped me coming home, got some good punches in. My stomach’s gonna be all bruised tomorrow.”
“Stopped you… by trying to kill you?” There’s blood on Neil’s face, which is definitely his, but Charlie’s not sure about the rest of it.
“I suppose so.”
“Neil.”
“Charlie.”
Thankfully, Keating comes along before anyone else can–Charlie doesn’t know what would happen if it were anyone else.
“Charlie, Neil, it’s getting close to curfew–Neil, whatever happened to your face?”
It’s the most polite way Charlie has ever seen someone say ‘what the fuck?’ and he has to agree.
“It’s not a big deal, really.”
“You are drenched in blood, Neil.”
“I’m okay.”
“You don’t seem the most qualified person to make that decision.” Keating says, putting a hand on Neil’s back. “Charlie, I’ll take Neil to the nurse, if you’ll go let your friends know that he won’t be back for the night.”
Charlie’s pretty sure he’s got the short end of the stick here.
“Neil, what happened? Charlie wouldn’t tell us anything last night!” Knox leans over the table–Charlie hadn’t told them anything because he doesn’t know anything.
Neil’s face is busted, there’s no other way to describe it. Left eye so swollen there’s no way he can see out of it, bruising on his right cheek and both his temples. His left arm is in a sling.
Charlie can make some guesses, based on the looks he’s sure Todd and Neil aren’t aware they pass between each other like children with stolen candy, and Neil’s acting, as to why Neil looks the way he does, but that’s not something he’s going to say out loud. Neil will never admit to it, either, on the chance it will get back to his father.
“Got mugged on the way home.” That’s not what he said last night. “I’m fine. Mild concussion, but fine.”
Charlie’s not convinced he wasn’t stabbed, with how much blood there was.
He doesn’t say that.
“Should you even be in classes with a concussion?” Meeks asks.
“Probably not, but I’ll be okay.”
“Someone has to take notes for you anyway.” Todd points out. “You can’t write with your arm in a sling.”
“I still need to be in class.”
“You can’t even see out of one eye.” Charlie says.
“Better than sitting in the dorm all day.”
“You didn’t sleep last night, I know you didn’t, because I woke up when Keating brought you up.” There’s more Todd wants to say, Charlie can tell, but he holds back.
If he can’t get Neil to tell him what he’s hiding, he’ll have to get Todd to give it up.
“I won’t be able to sleep today, either.”
“You could at least try.” Todd snaps, and it’s something he so rarely does that the whole table goes quiet.
They don’t need more attention drawn to them, not when Neil is already looking like he does, so Charlie kicks out under the table, not even caring who he hits. Knox would be preferable, but Pitts is fine too. Anyone but Cameron, really, because Cameron will just lecture him.
“What–” Pitts glances at him for a second, then asks Meeks about their radio or something. Usually Charlie tries to pay at least a little bit of attention, but he thinks Meeks and Pitts will understand right now.
“Neil, seriously, dude, just go back to bed.” Charlie hisses. “Or at least to the nurse again, doesn’t your face hurt?”
“I’ve been trying that since we got up, it hasn’t worked.” Todd says. Charlie has to wonder how much he slept last night, how late Neil got back.
“There’s nothing to tell you.” Neil says, rolling his good eye. “But since you’re going to insist on escorting me to the nurse anyway, I’ll go. Maybe I’ll even sleep some before rehearsal."
“You’re going to rehearsal?” Charlie asks. Why the fuck would he do that?
“Well, duh. Why wouldn’t I go? I can still act.”
“Neil. Come on.”
“Maybe he should go to class, if he sleeps he’ll see that as more of a reason to go to rehearsal.” Todd mutters.
“If Neil wants to go to class, let him.” Cameron adds. Charlie likes him, some of the time–most of the time, even though he gets on his nerves–but right now, he just can’t.
Neil is barely holding himself upright, there’s no way he’s making it through classes and rehearsal and whatever else it is he wants to do.
“Neil wants to go to class because he has a perfect attendance record to keep, not because he thinks he needs to be there.” Charlie says. Charlie should know–before this year, before Todd, he and Neil were placed in the same room every year. Neil does a lot more than anyone thinks he does, to keep his grades as high as they are.
Charlie can’t look at Neil without seeing all the blood, right now. He glances up at the teachers’ table to see Keating watching them.
“Perfect attendance? For the year?” Todd asks.
“For the whole damn time we’ve been at Welton.” Charlie says. “Cause he’s ridiculous like that.”
It’s not like it’s easy to skive off classes, not when they live in their school, but Charlie’s managed a couple of times, and there’s always sick days.
Charlie and Todd manage to bully Neil back into the nurse’s office after breakfast, but he still slips into their first class with a note for his tardiness.
Charlie’s going to kill him.
“I’m coming with you.” Charlie doesn’t put an arm around Neil, like he normally would, but Neil can't be upset about it when he looks the way he does.
He knows he scared Charlie, last night. Todd, too.
They just… they can’t know how scared he is. Of it all. Of it happening again. Of his father finding out–he’d had to talk Keating and the nurse out of sending him to a hospital when they’d seen how bad it was, because then his father would find out.
“For what?”
“In case you get ‘mugged’ again.” Charlie says.
“I don’t think you understand how muggings work.”
“And you’re not losing me, Perry, so don’t try.”
“You’ll just have to sit in the back for hours with nothing to do.”
“I’m bringing homework. Possibly Todd, if he wants to stop hovering over there and come join us.”
“Charlie Dalton, willingly taking his homework out of school with him?”
“Don’t, Neil. Not about this. I know it’s worse than you let on.”
“There’s nothing to tell, Charlie. It’s not going to happen again, anyway. Wasn’t my blood, remember?” He knows Charlie doesn’t believe him about that–he wouldn’t, either.
Todd has to run a bit, to catch up, but he does, walking on Neil’s other side.
“Hi, Todd.”
“You–you said they need people to run the lights.” Todd says. It’s more endearing than it should be.
“Yeah, but that’s not why Charlie’s coming along.” If Charlie wants to play guard dog, Neil can’t stop him. Todd, though, he might be able to talk out of it. Charlie has known him long enough to put together why it happened; Todd hasn’t.
But Todd isn’t dissuaded, no matter what he says.
As much as he hates the thought of his friends getting involved, Neil can’t hide that having them there helps him breathe a little easier.