Work Text:
The first day Neil Josten stepped into the nest over winter break, he believed he could overcome this. Jean looked at Neil like he was stupid when he said he would walk away unscathed.
But deep inside, Neil knew he wouldn’t, since Riko just viewed him as property, but he’ll give him absolute hell in his attempts.
Riko was waiting for him at the end of the stairs, a smug grin on his face. Neil really wanted to punch him then.
“Well, Nathaniel, it seems like you finally came. Kneel.”
“Yeah, that’s my name.” Neil shot back.
Riko’s eyes flashed in sharp anger. “Kneel to your king and captain, Nathaniel.”
“Fuck you.”
With a simple signal from Riko, Jean held him down while Neil managed to get his first beating during his stay at the Nest.
At the end, Riko crouched down to a bruised Neil and said, “You will be mine.”
“I’m not your property.”
At that, Riko snorted.
“We’ll see about that, Wesninski.”
—------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The first time he stepped on an exy court wearing a raven jersey, it felt wrong. His cheek was burning from the new ‘4’ tattoo and his teammates were being stupid. It felt as if the teammates were fighting against each other as well while fighting their opponents during a scrimmage, in an all for themselves bloodbath.
Neil found himself grimacing at the fifth body slam he got today from his own teammate, with his anger slowly beginning to rise as the soreness from the bruises got worse.
‘Let me out. Let them see who you truly are.’ He whispered.
‘No. I’m Neil. Not you. Fuck off.’
Almost as if Riko sensed this inner battle, he strode over, not caring about the scrimmage that he was walking into and grabbed the helmet grate of Neil’s helmet and dragged him.
“Nathaniel. Be free. Aren’t you angry? All these idiots, hitting you when you know you can be better than them all? Afterall, you are the 4th of my perfect court, not these random double digits. Why hold yourself back when you can prove them all wrong?”
“Fuck you. I’m Neil not Nathaniel. I stopped being Nathaniel when I first ran away.”
At Neil’s response, Riko snarled in anger and dragged him off the court fully and ripped his helmet off. He grabbed Neil’s face and drew him in.
“Le-LET GO! Have you never heard of personal space, you sick motherfucker?”
“Nathaniel. I am your King. I will not be having this sort of attitude. I know Nathaniel is still in there. He’s the one I want right now. I command you.”
“Even if Nathaniel is still there, why would I comply? You aren’t my king and you certainly are not my captain. That honor only goes to Dan. Why would I willingly bring back the insane version of me?”
“I see that you still hold on to the delusions you will go back to Palmetto at the end. Don’t you want to be the best striker? Keep playing exy? Kevin did his best to make you a good player. But to fully fix you, you have to be broken down first.”
“Fuck off. I’m fine as I am” Neil snapped as he ripped himself away from Riko and headed back to the game. Riko watched him walk away and simply signalled to the other ravens. The head of each team nodded in acknowledgement.
As the game resumed, the slams became harder, the presses more intense. Neil could feel himself breaking with each added pressure. As the game ended for the day, Neil felt more drained than he ever felt playing exy.
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
This continued for a week, each scrimmage’s inner court pressure rising. Sometime around day 3 or 4, Grayson started adding in verbal remarks, exactly knowing which buttons to press to make Neil snarl in anger. Each mention of what he did to Jean caused Neil to grow angrier at each instance until finally, all the pressure
Made
Him
Snap.
Nathaniel roared out.
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The moment Nathaniel stepped out, the players all immediately sensed something was different. And how different it was.
Every body slam that was given to Nathaniel was returned with a stronger intensity.
Nathaniel sped around, scoring and using his sharp tongue to rile everyone up.
Nathaniel wasn’t the thinking, logical Neil, but instead an insane frenzy drunk on the feeling of freedom exy gave him.
Each lesson the Butcher had given him as a child showed in the match, Nathaniel knew exactly where to hit to hurt someone, to cause the most pain, and each time a raven’s face contorted in pain, Nathaniel was filled with ecstasy.
At the end of the scrimmage, Riko called for him.
Riko smirked at Nathaniel’s flushed face, still riding on the high of adrenaline the game gave him but he could also tell that Neil was starting to come back. Riko’s eyes narrowed and he leaned forward.
“You played so freely. Didn’t that feel better than restraining yourself? Each player’s attack was an eye for an eye.”
“I caused unnecessary pain.”
“But didn’t that feel good? At the Nest, only the strongest remain.”
“Why do you keep trying to appeal to the old, broken side of me? He’s not logical and is sadistic.”
“But he plays with such freedom that he scares his opponents with. Each move today was all legal, and you feel lighter when you do cause the pain. The pain as they crumble after a hit, a loss, or whatever. You may view it as unnecessary, but it’s a much better method for your improvement and reputation. Don’t you want to give them a lesson on cruelty after everything they did to you? To Jean?”
“Only because you ordered them to do so-”
“If you consider this beautiful, free side of yourself as ‘broken’, I think I like you better broken than whole.”