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The weirdest part of Neil’s life these days is that everybody around him thinks that he’s normal.
He has an apartment, neighbors who nod to him when he picks up his mail. He has a job. As an accountant. He attends an employee potluck every other Saturday. He’s been known to wear a tie to work. What the fuck?
Most of the time, he’s able to plod along, interested enough in the proceedings that he doesn’t have to think about it. Accounting is, weirdly, something that settles Neil. The numbers make sense.
At night, though, in his empty apartment, the sounds of the city filtering through his window, Neil stares up at the ceiling and wonders what the fuck is going on. Is this all an elaborate dream?
Sleep on the run with his mom was always hard to come by, so Neil had been able to pass out in a second. He had slept in cars and on benches, next to his mom and on the ground. Having a mattress that he calls his own should be a step towards eight hours of restful dreams a night, but instead, he’s memorized the web of cracks directly above his bed.
He gives up on trying to force himself into a normal sleep schedule after two weeks in the apartment. He starts going for walks around his neighborhood, watching the few other people on the streets in the early, early hours of the morning, and thinks about how he got here.
He wonders if his mom would be happy about his situation. She always thought it was silly for him to keep up with his online classes as they moved from place to place, but after everything had died down, with his dad behind bars with no chance of parole and her body buried somewhere in California, with the FBI’s protection and nowhere to run, Neil’s glad it’s something he stuck to.
At the end of his walk, about a week after he started his nightly habit, he stops at the corner store by his house on a whim. Maybe they have a tea or something that can help. He’s grown used to feeling dead on his feet, but that doesn’t mean he likes it.
The girl behind the counter rings up his purchase with no comment. Neil stares down at the tea bags and tries to remember if his mom ever made him tea when he was younger. He stares at the box all the way back to his apartment, stares out the window as he waits for his kettle to boil, and finally, finally, falls asleep that night before counting all the cracks in the ceiling.
Andrew hates his apartment. He hates that he can hear Aaron and Katelyn talking through the walls. He hates that he has to lean out of the window to smoke. He hates that he can see into the alley from his room. He hates that the fire escape is nowhere near his window, but he can still imagine all too clearly somebody using it to break into his room.
After the fourth muffled moan from the next room over, Andrew pulls on some jeans, grabs his jacket, and slams the door as loudly as he can behind him. He thunders down the stairs, glaring at every creaky step, and then comes to a stop outside.
Shoving his hands into his pockets, Andrew ambles down the block, wondering if he would be better off moving into a place of his own. Probably not, not with their deal and his annoyed attachment to his brother. It’s nice to dream, though.
Andrew stops outside the 7-Eleven on his block and ducks inside. He wanders up and down the aisles, caught between his desire to go back to his room to pass out and his desire to avoid Aaron and Katelyn as long as possible. He stares despondently at the cigarettes behind the till, passes some guy examining the meager selection of tea, and comes to a stop in front of the Slurpees.
The blue raspberry flavor calls to him. It’s not even pretending to be something found in nature. He can practically taste the artificial sweetness already.
He grabs the largest cup and watches lazily as blue slush drips into it. By the time he makes it to the register, the tea guy has left, leaving Andrew and the cashier alone.
Andrew sips at the Slurpee on his way home, looking up at the light-polluted, starless sky, and hopes the sugar rush won’t make it harder to fall asleep.
The tea works mysteriously well, so when he runs out a week later, Neil makes his way back to the store after a disappointingly sleepless hour. Its interior is aggressively bright after Neil’s hour-long staredown with his darkened ceiling.
He zeroes in on the tea section immediately and stares at the boxes for a long moment. Shit, which kind had he gotten last time?
He takes a minute to glance around the small shop as he tries to picture the tea he’s been drinking. There’s a couple loitering by the candy section, giggling and shoving packages at one another, and a short guy looking at the drinks.
Finally recognizing the tea from last time, Neil grabs it, pays, and gets out of the store in a minute flat.
The next time Andrew can’t fall asleep, noises he doesn’t want to hear filtering in from the next room over, he heads to the 7-Eleven for lack of better alternatives. The Slurpee from last time had been both delicious and annoying to Aaron, who’s always trying to get Andrew to eat healthier, so it’s basically everything he looks for in a drink.
When he gets to the Slurpee machine, however, an OUT OF ORDER sign is slapped on the front. He glares at it for a minute like he can somehow change it before turning to the other drink selections.
A loud laugh from across the store catches his attention, and Andrew turns his glare on the annoying couple by the candy. The cashier is watching them destroy the candy aisle with a look of resigned irritation.
Andrew turns back to the drinks and chooses some sugary tea thing, steering clear of the coffee and smoothies. He gets to the register just as the other guy is heading out and spares the loud couple another pissed-off look before heading home.
He should really just stock up on the tea at the grocery store or something, but by the time the box of five bags has been used up, Neil has forgotten once more. He makes his way to the store close to half an hour after he tries to get to bed.
He hasn’t had to wander aimlessly around his neighborhood for a few weeks, a combination of the tea and some sort of weird inner peace allowing him to actually fall asleep relatively normally these days. Tonight, he’s distracted again by his past. It’s his dad’s birthday, and all day he’s felt like something bad is about to happen.
He keeps his eyes on the prize, though, and heads straight to the tea inside the store. He’s just squatting down and picking up a box, wondering if he should maybe grab two or three, actually, when a loud shout at the counter distracts him.
“Put your hands above your head!”
A man in black with a stupid ski mask on, looking like a goon from of any bad movie ever, is pointing a gun towards the nervous-looking cashier. Shockingly, he appears not to have even noticed Neil, who’s partially hidden by the aisle.
“I want you to open the till and give me all the money. I’ll shoot you if you hit the panic button.”
Neil takes a second to assess the situation. This guy is clearly incompetent, probably scared out of his wits, and an idiot if he thinks he’s going to get much out of this register. He can’t be working with any accomplices or Neil wouldn’t still be flying under the radar.
Decision made, Neil straightens up with a warning look to the cashier. He walks as quietly as he knows how (so pretty damn quietly) and is behind the criminal in seconds. He has the gun kicked away with the guy facedown on the floor before the guy has time to react.
“I’d hit the panic button now,” Neil comments, pinning the would-be robber to the ground comfortably.
“I can get backup called in quicker,” a new voice says by the door. Neil whips around to see a short blond man standing just inside the door. Neil thinks he looks vaguely familiar. He flips open a phone and says a few things into it before he walks towards Neil.
Maybe he can ban Aaron from having Katelyn over at night, Andrew muses as he begins the familiar route to the 7-Eleven. That damned Slurpee machine better be fixed, because he’s really craving some artificial sugar.
It’s bad enough that he can’t sleep most nights, watching the shadows in his room and the bright numbers on his alarm clock for hours after he wants to be asleep, but combine that with this persistent noise problem, and Andrew is really not pleased to be sexiled. He’s an adult, not some college student.
He’s barely even noticing his surroundings by the time he walks through the automatic doors, more ready for a Slurpee than he’s ever been in his whole life, but the sight of an attractive man effectively disarming and disabling a guy with a gun gets his attention pretty quickly.
Andrew calls it in absently, watching the perp lay limply on the floor beneath the redhead, before heading over.
“Good thing you were here,” Andrew comments casually, crouching beside the pair and looking at the suspect in case he tries to make a break for it. Andrew pulls off the ski mask to reveal a scared-looking teenager glaring up. Attractive Stranger shrugs, his grip on the teen’s arm secure.
“I just wanted some tea.”
Andrew rolls his eyes and straightens up. The cashier looks pretty freaked out, so Andrew does his best to calm her down. His best is still not super effective, but a few minutes later, she doesn’t look so much like she’s going to throw up.
“Do you want me to keep him in custody?” Andrew asks the guy who’s still basically sitting atop the teen.
“I can manage.”
Andrew’s eyes flick to the hold he’s maintaining. He tells himself he’s not turned on by this random guy’s mysteriously capable hands. Finally hearing the distant sound of a siren approaching, Andrew turns to the back of the store and makes for the Slurpee machine.
His cup is half-filled when he hears an incredulous “Seriously?!” from the front of the store.
Attractive Stranger is watching him with narrowed eyes. Andrew looks back at his drink just in time to avoid it overfilling. He slaps on a lid and heads back to the front of the store.
“What?”
Attractive Stranger frowns. “You’re getting a gross drink at a time like this?”
Andrew slaps some cash on the counter and shrugs. “You have him handled, and the cashier needed some space. I can’t take your statement because I’m off duty. Why not get what I came here for?”
Attractive Stranger is spared answering by the doors opening again to reveal Matt and Renee. They enter the premises cautiously, both holding their firearms in front, but Matt drops his once he sees Andrew sipping on his drink.
“What the fuck, Minyard?” Matt asks as Renee crouches, handcuffs in hand.
“I’m not on the clock.” Andrew rolls his eyes. It sucks that he’s a witness and has to stick around for this bullshit.
Renee straightens back up with the perp in tow, his head ducked to avoid eye contact. She begins telling his Miranda rights quietly, leading him out to the squad car, as Matt turns to Attractive Stranger, who’s just straightening up himself.
“I’m Officer Boyd,” Matt says with a grin. “I’ll need to get your statement, Mr…?”
“Neil,” the redhead says, wiping his hand off on his ratty jeans before offering it to Matt. “Neil Josten.”
“I’m sorry to inconvenience you, Neil, but I’m going to write down everything you say and then get you to sign it, alright?”
Josten nods, looking only faintly uneasy, as the two head to the front of the building. Andrew turns to the cashier.
“You’ve called in the manager, right?” The cashier nods, still looking dazed. “Do you know how long until they arrive?”
Andrew waits with the cashier (whose name is Janie, apparently) until a harassed-looking lady rushes in.
“Jane, sweetie, are you alright?” she asks, hugging the smaller girl and shooting Andrew a suspicious look. “I’ll get someone to cover your shift tomorrow, alright?”
Knowing that he’s no longer needed, Andrew wanders out of the store, sucking at the dregs of his drink. He catches Josten and Matt at the end of their interview.
“Hey, you don’t think there’s anyway this is like…connected to anything bigger, right?” Neil is asking just as Andrew saunters into hearing range.
Matt frowns. “No, Renee says that the perp found out his girlfriend’s pregnant and wanted to provide for her. Just another teenager, I’d guess. The gun wasn’t even loaded.” Andrew watches as Josten’s shoulders loosen almost imperceptibly. “Why?”
“No reason.” Matt’s eyes scan Josten’s face curiously. “I live just up the block, don’t want to get involved in anything big.”
Matt shakes his head, clearly buying into it. “You should be fine. Ok, I’ll just need to sign this, and then you’re free to go. I’d like to get your number, though, and you might be called on if this goes to court.”
Josten signs the papers and leaves with a nod in Andrew’s direction. He watches him walk away and thinks about calling him back. He wants to learn more about what he was worried about, or maybe why he was able to so calmly take out an armed robber.
“Time for your statement, Minyard,” Matt says behind him and Andrew sighs. At least Aaron and Katelyn should be asleep by the time he gets home.
Amidst all the excitement and people and everything the night before, Neil had actually forgotten to get the tea he had set out for. He fell asleep when he got home due to sheer exhaustion, but the next night finds him staring up at the ceiling in annoyance. His mom would call him weak for being this reliant on something.
Neil pulls on a hoodie and is out the door before the memory of her voice can stop him.
When he slouches into the store a few minutes later, he only stills by the door for a second at the sight of Minyard by the Slurpee machine before heading to the tea. Minyard beats him to the counter and is waiting for the cashier to hand over some cigarettes before he notices him.
“Neil, right?” Minyard asks. Neil nods. “I’m Andrew.”
Neil shakes the proffered hand warily. They’d had at least ten minutes before Officers Walker and Boyd had shown up the night before, so why the politeness now?
“Add his stuff to my tab,” Andrew tells the guy behind the counter. Neil blinks to hide his surprise and suspicion. Neil drops the two boxes of tea to the counter with a muttered thanks.
They walk towards the exit a moment later, Andrew shaking out a cigarette for himself. He offers one to Neil, who hesitates for only a moment before accepting. He doesn’t stop to wonder why as they come to a stop a few steps away from the store. Andrew hands him a lit cigarette and Neil only takes one drag before switching to holding it in front of him. The smoke takes him back, but his chest doesn’t feel quite so tight anymore.
“What do you do, Neil?” Andrew asks after a moment. Neil flicks him a glance and finds himself unable to look away from the hazel reflected back to him.
“I’m an accountant,” he says when he realizes that an answer is expected. Andrew snickers with a raised eyebrow, and Neil smiles. Finally, somebody who gets that’s it’s fucking weird.
“Not what I expected,” Andrew comments a minute later. “I’m a cop, as you may have deduced.” Neil nods, inhaling the smoke, and watching Andrew out of his eye. His blond hair caught the streetlights in a weirdly mesmerizing way. “So where’d an accountant learn the most effective way to take a guy out in two seconds flat?”
Neil shrugs, looking down at his worn sneakers. “Oh, you know. Around.” He tugs on his sleeves and hopes that his scars aren’t peeking out.
“No, I don’t know.” Andrew raises an eyebrow.
“It pays to be able to handle yourself,” Neil says defensively. He wonders, finally, why he accepted the cigarette. Shit, it’ll probably keep him awake for even longer. What was he thinking?
“I’m not disagreeing.” Andrew flicks some ash off the tip of his cigarette.
“Why’re you a cop, then?”
Andrew gives him a flat, assessing stare for a long minute, before shrugging himself. “It’s a cruel world.”
“It’s not the world that’s cruel,” Neil says. “It’s the people in it.”
Andrew tilts his head, lips twitching slowly up into a smile. Neil doesn’t want to look away.
“Oh, you are interesting, Neil Josten.” Andrew drops his cigarette and takes a long sip from his disgusting drink. Neil’s eyes trace the movement with accidental intensity. “I’ll see you around.”
Neil blinks at the unexpected announcement, and then Andrew is backing away, still watching him.
“Looking forward to it,” Neil responds, a beat too late, and is surprised to find that he means it.