Chapter Text
It’s been seven months since Baltimore. Seven months since the riot and the Bearcats and Andrew’s hands around Kevin’s throat. Seven months since the cracks between the Foxes have grown even larger. Seven months since half of Andrew was ripped away from him, brutally, without warning.
Seven months since he left somewhere no one would ever be able to reach him again. It makes sense, really. He’d always been a rabbit running from a wolf—and prey never make it very far before falling into open, waiting jaws. Except Andrew sees the irony in the whole thing, because of course he does. For once, Neil (fuck, Neil) didn’t run. He’d looked Andrew straight in the eyes and told him that he would stay if he had the choice (that’s what he had meant by ‘thank you, you were amazing’, right?) before disappearing in the crowd of angry fans.
He’d left pieces of himself behind, right where Andrew would find them and know that this wasn’t him running away. But nature has a cycle which exempts nothing and no one. So Neil fell right into his father’s hands, the wolf finally rounding up on the rabbit after all this time.
The worst part? Neil could’ve made it out. The only reason the FBI agents even found his body was because they’d followed a certain Stuart Hatford, Neil’s uncle, who knew exactly where his nephew was stashed. He’d got there a minute too late, opening the door to find Neil bleeding out on cold concrete, father already gone with the wind. It took the entire team to restrain Andrew from caving in the agent’s skull—god, he hated how detached the pig sounded, as if he wasn’t announcing the end of the fucking world for everyone in that cramped motel room.
He doesn’t remember anyone crying. Maybe Nicky did, or Dan. Probably Matt. All he remembers is how the raging fury in his mind vanished the second the pig told them they would be allowed to take the body back for a proper funeral. He remembers staring at the peeling wallpaper for so long, he could still tell you what shape the dust particles formed overtop a yellowing flower. Something reminiscent of a paw, funnily enough.
So yeah. Seven months since Andrew stood over Neil Josten’s body, waiting and waiting and waiting for him to wake up out of this cold stupor and flash him that blinding smile. Surely, that couldn’t have been the last time those blue eyes would ever be tracked on Andrew, right? And what of the championship? Neil would’ve never allowed anything to happen to the team while on such a good track.
With him gone, the team no longer exists, as per the ERC. Not that Andrew gives a shit. It’s been seven months and still he refuses to move when Kevin plants him in front of the goal like nothing’s wrong (it’s all been so wrong since that godforsaken second when Neil stopped looking at him).
Andrew’s not dumb. Neil’s death has taken a heavy toll on every single person on the no-longer-valid team. Matt doesn’t talk to anyone but Dan, who can barely get through a sentence before breaking off in a choked sob; Nicky cries at the mere thought of Neil; Kevin has never been less interested in Exy; Allison has reverted back to being nasty like she was when she was grieving Seth; Renee’s smiles have crossed the threshold of sombre instead of her usual serene.
Aaron is quiet. He doesn’t ask for anything Andrew can’t give him, which is everything. He barely tries to talk to him. He disappears off to Katelyn, hiding her for different reasons now. Andrew thinks it’s a pointless effort. It’s not like he’ll get jealous of his brother for having the other part of his soul. It’s not like he’ll feel anything even if they walk through that door holding hands and laughing.
It’s not like he’ll feel anything at all ever again.
Without Exy and without Neil, none of them have reasons to talk to each other anymore. So they split into what they were before: the monsters on one side, the upperclassmen on the other. Matt titters between them both, not uttering a word. Andrew would find comfort in the profound grief the man is going through, if he could. Like it’s reassuring that he’s not the only one who felt Neil’s presence in his life so acutely.
Wymack has lost Foxes before. They all know this, Andrew especially, but there’s an exhaustion to his movements now that tell them this one hurt him more than the others. Andrew swears he caught him wiping away tears on the way back from the funeral.
He wishes he could give Neil the effort of feeling any kind of devastated about his death, instead of this awful, all-consuming nothingness. He left and took a piece of Andrew with him—which would’ve been totally understandable if he hadn’t taken his heart and left behind some black hole that eats at Andrew mercilessly.
Seven months of near-everyday sessions with Bee have got Andrew to a point where he can hear the name ‘Neil’ without being sucked back into that motel room where the world lost all its colour in the span of a second. Seven months of distance between the Foxes have made them less angry at each other. Now they can talk without any bared teeth.
It takes them that long to accept that Neil is well and truly gone.
So you can imagine their shock when they wake up one day face-to-face with bright blue eyes and auburn hair.
You can also imagine their shock when eight more Foxes appear behind him—eight exact replicas of them, looking at each other with a familiar mixture of confusion and exasperation.
Andrew has to leap out of the way so Matt doesn’t throw up on him.
—
Aaron would’ve found this whole thing hilarious if he could parse through the cold numbness that’s overtaken him. He’s never seen his brother look so annoyed (even if that isn’t his actual brother) at the idea of… well, anything. Andrew’s usually apathetic stare is tinged with what looks like irritation—there’s a sigh waiting to be released, though it never comes. It’s such a change from the emptiness Aaron’s used to that it almost gives him whiplash.
No one has said anything in five minutes. Aaron thinks he might be the only one who’s still capable of thought, even if his mouth doesn’t work, but he’s surprised by his brother, as always.
“Neil?” Andrew says, and though it sounds perfectly calm, Aaron can hear how weak the syllable is. Neil, who hasn’t disappeared yet, frowns even deeper than before.
“I swear to God, if one of you slipped something in my sandwich, I’m calling my uncle,” he says in the same voice they’ve all spent seven months trying so desperately not to forget. Yes, Aaron has been making sure he still knows what Neil Josten sounds like.
Neil is still looking at them, though his words create a ripple effect in the other team’s faces; there’s badly concealed fear, three eyerolls, and one hand muffling a groan.
The other Kevin, who looks just as intense as he used to and is actually standing straight, shakes his head like he’s over Neil’s bullshit. Aaron can understand—he’d participate in the feeling if he wasn’t busy not being sick.
“Nobody’s done shit to your food, Neil,” Other-Kevin says, glancing at Other-Andrew (not another one) like he can’t even believe he’s saying this. “We see them too.”
“Oh, fantastic! We’re all going insane!” Neil’s arms are up in the air, the new scars on his face (they don’t look very new) pulling with the aborted laugh he lets out. The sound is like a punch to the gut. Aaron sees Andrew’s shoulder hike up even more, way past where they should be. “It was inevitable, I guess.”
Other-Matt places a large hand on Neil’s shoulder and suddenly the whole thing is too real, too in-their-faces that actual Matt stops throwing up to cry. It definitely freaks Neil out, considering his face at the sight of tears and the way he takes a step back right into Other-Andrew’s chest.
Everyone—on Aaron’s side—braces for the violence that usually comes with touching Andrew, other universe or not, but it never comes. His brother barely even blinks, which seems to be permission from him for Neil to lean even further.
Aaron is sure his jaw is on the floor by now, both from Neil’s existence and Other-Andrew’s comfort with being touched without asked. It nearly cracks off his skull when he—Other-Him, that is—casually brushes his hand over Other-Andrew’s shoulder and doesn’t get a knife to the ribs.
Other-Kevin breaks through the sudden wall of onlookers, new recruits that clearly haven’t been with the Foxes long enough to find eight identical copies of their teammates anything but annoying. One in particular seems rather unfriendly towards Andrew. Other-Kevin’s eyes glaze over the others before landing on Aaron, who he seems to find is lucid enough to talk to.
“Who are you?” he asks, in a way that makes it clear he knows exactly who they are but wants to be completely sure. Aaron can’t believe he’s missed this haughty, arrogant version of Kevin.
“I think you know the answer to that,” Aaron says, arms crossed. “I have no idea whether this is some time-space fuckery or whatever, but we’re you, I guess.”
Other-Kevin narrows his eyes. “And why should we trust you on that?”
Figures. Even with Neil, the Foxes are a bunch of paranoid and distrusting idiots. Aaron sighs, then racks his brain for something only the team would know. Better yet, something only the ‘monsters’ would know.
“Neil—” his voice nearly breaks “—Neil used to fold the tags of his clothes in a specific way, which we learned because somebody fucked with his things and he broke into our room to figure out who. Pretty sure he insulted you in French.”
Other-Kevin seems to find that acceptable. He huffs and spins on his foot before walking away. Regular-Kevin looks almost jealous of this rude, obnoxious version of himself that he lost when their Neil was lowered into the ground. This Neil is practically perched on Other-Andrew’s shoulder, watching the whole thing with some twisted form of amusement. Aaron thinks no one here looks as freaked out as they should be. At least his Matt seems affected by the idea of jumping into a different universe.
The recruits follow after Other-Kevin, clearly uninterested, so all that remains is two identical teams plus one Neil. Aaron thinks that this version of his brother and his ex-arch nemesis, the one where they’re constantly hanging off each other, is one he could not care less about. But he looks back at his Andrew and finds that the look of longing in his eyes is way more painful than the most explicit PDA the other two could come up with.
Other-Matt eventually stops staring blankly at them and asks the first smart question of the day.
“If you’re us,” he starts, and Aaron knows exactly where this is going, “where’s your Neil?”
Regular-Matt starts sobbing again, now joined by Nicky, who’s managed to make it this long without a single tear. Aaron is almost impressed. Neil, ever the accidentally smart one, seems to figure it out immediately.
“He didn’t make it out of Baltimore, did he?” he says, because it isn’t really a question. This time, his Foxes are the ones to flinch. They know how close to reality a world without Neil could’ve been and they don’t like the reminder. Aaron thinks they’re the luckiest motherfuckers he’s ever met.
He shakes his head ‘no’, because Neil is still waiting for an answer, and watches as Other-Andrew’s hand tightens around Neil’s waist. He watches this other brother of his imagine what life would be like without the redheaded disaster at his side and come up with an answer none of them would like. Aaron guesses it would involve another funeral.
He knows just how much his Andrew cherished their Neil, and they had only known each other for eight months before the incident. This Andrew has had another seven to allow his adoration to fester into near worship. Aaron gets how the idea of Neil being gone would hit him even harder.
Renee finally comes back to herself—honestly, Aaron is shocked it’s taken this long—and greets Neil with a wobbly smile that seems so uncharacteristic of her. Neil is somehow immediately less suspicious of the whole situation the second her voice floats between them. The crease between his brows relents and he even manages a smile that hits Aaron like a physical blow. There seem to be a lot of invisible hands in the air today.
“This is really weird,” Renee says, earning half-nods from everyone in the room, “but we’ve really missed you, Neil. Forgive us if we act a little strange around you.”
Neil, to his credit, does not look over to where Matt and Nicky are collapsing into themselves. His eyes do flick over to Andrew, who hasn’t moved since they’ve jumped timelines, but whether the pain in them is truly there or just a figment of Aaron’s imagination is something he’s still debating.
Dan speaks up too, hand on Matt’s shoulder. “I can’t believe we’re seeing you again,” she says, her voice raspy from her efforts not to cry. Neil’s face softens just an inch, but it’s so different from what any of them—Aaron’s Foxes, that is—are used to that it triggers a wave of breaths hitching. It’s almost musical, if you ask him.
“I’m really sorry for your loss,” Neil eventually tells them, finally unsticking himself from Other-Andrew’s side. For someone Aaron knows is uncomfortable with offering comfort, Neil seems determined to go to each of them and reassure them that this isn’t some grief-induced hallucination.
Aaron watches as he walks up to Renee first, taking her hand and whispering something too quiet for anyone else to catch. She nods and steps back to let him continue. He walks over to Allison next, not even flinching when she raises her hackles and sneers—he says a few words that immediately has her eyes brimming with tears, and, well, isn’t that something? Dan gets a long hug that somehow becomes a group hug with Nicky and Matt. All three of them cry quietly while Neil pretends to not be a little bit lost but still holds onto them. The Other-Foxes watch this whole thing happen with barely concealed entertainment.
All that’s left are the twins. Aaron thinks the whole reassurance thing is completely unnecessary, since he knows very well that he is looking at Neil Josten in all his very-alive-glory, but Neil seems to think he needs it. He parks himself in front of Aaron, which leaves Aaron wondering if being spoken to as softly as the others will finally be the thing that has him throwing up.
“You look even worse than he does,” Neil says, completely deadpan with a thumb over his shoulder. Yeah, that’s Neil. Aaron is sure that Other-Him will be sporting the exact same look of offence as he is if he looks over. He thinks he hears Other-Andrew snorts.
“It’s so nice to see you too, Josten,” Aaron replies, met with a smile that couldn’t possibly belong to anyone other than Neil. It’s disingenuously honest, somehow. It haunts his dream with its oxymoronic nature sometimes.
Then Neil steps away from him and Aaron knows it’s coming, but the despair in Andrew’s eyes is so shockingly present that it hurts regardless when he glances at his brother. He watches as Neil smiles, a little quip of the mouth that was only ever reserved for Andrew in moments when he thought no one else was looking. He watches as Andrew falls a little more in love with the ghost of the only person who ever truly understood him.
He watches Other-Andrew get almost jealous before realising how absurd it would be to be envious of yourself. He watches every single Fox in the room understand just how hard Neil’s death hit Andrew. It nearly breaks his heart that only he knows the true reason for the dark bags under his brother’s eyes, why he’s gone even more quiet.
Aaron wishes he could help Andrew move on, but he knows there is no ‘moving on’ from Neil. He’s not even sure he has gotten over the incident, regardless of their endless animosity for each other. He just has to hope that this Neil will get Andrew functioning again.
---
Andrew’s going insane. It’s the only explanation. It’s that or this is a cruel trick of the universe, bringing him back right when he’d thought he was starting to do better. Maybe he was never doing better at all, if just the sight of red hair and blue eyes is enough to send his entire body into some form of emotional lockdown.
It’s bad enough that he’s looking at Andrew with the softest look in his eyes, that goddamn smile on his lips so similar to the one he wore every time Andrew threatened to push him off the roof, with the addition of scars. It’s even worse that there are exact copies of the whole team behind him, all watching this whole thing with careful understanding and informing Andrew that, no, this isn’t some psychotic episode he’s having. This other copy of himself even has the gall to look somewhat bemused.
When the shock wears down, which it does, Andrew is angry. He’s fucking pissed because he spent all those months in Bee’s office, going through this grief that still weighs so heavy on his shoulders, coming to terms with the fact that he will never get to be as happy as he was with Neil ever again. He spent seven months coming to terms with the fact that he will never see Neil again. That these feelings in his chest are going to fade into something more tolerable over time.
And all of that progress goes out the window at the sight of a crooked grin that he shouldn’t even be able to see, let alone reach out and touch. Andrew is back to square one because his heart is racing again and he can feel that awful fear bubbling up his throat again.
Neil, of course, notices immediately. But instead of doing anything helpful, like disappearing into the nether and leaving Andrew to his misery, his smile goes softer. It pulls at the scars on his cheek that Andrew’s never seen before—just more confirmation that this isn’t the Neil he knows. Andrew really wants to punch him in the nose. Out of the corner of his eye, he watches himself huff and walk away, clearly done with the weirdness of it all. Andrew feels a burning jealousy in his chest.
He tries to say something, but the words get stuck in his throat. He stands there, mouth open like an idiot, until Neil offers a hand with a question in his eyes. Even if he’s spent the last seven months wishing for Neil’s touch, he hesitates. They’re in front of the whole team and he hasn’t accepted anyone’s skin contact in so long. What if it makes his skin crawl? What if Neil places his hand on top of his and it makes him sick?
But he knows Neil would take that risk for him too, so he nods once—almost invisible, but those blue eyes catch everything. A scarred hand slowly comes over his own (are those dashboard lighter marks?) and the breath is knocked out of his lungs when the only thing he feels is intense relief. Like this is what he had been missing for all this time.
Andrew doesn’t move an inch, still half-convinced that this is a hallucination and that Neil will vanish if he so much as blinks. His fingers have a mind of their own, though, and the rising panic that none of this is real is quickly dispelled by his own hand wrapping around Neil’s and squeezing.
He’s so focused on how solid his runaway feels that he almost misses the others slowly trickling out. Both Matts send him a look that would have him reaching for a knife in any other situation. Renee and her clone, accompanied by one of the Allisons, give him two smiles that differ only in the fact that his Renee’s eyes are a little more watery. He stops caring after she leaves the room, focusing only on the scarred skin of Neil’s hand.
“We’ll be around the dorms,” Aaron—his Aaron—says quietly when he and the now very uneven group of ‘monsters’ pass Andrew and Neil. He knows it’s his Aaron because of the air of sorrow he tries so hard to deny. It’s good to know that stubbornness doesn’t go away, even in mourning.
Then it’s just the two of them. Andrew and Neil. Neil and Andrew. It’s so surreal, to see him again, looking so lively. The last time Andrew had seen Neil, it was at the funeral home, leaning over a casket the mortician insisted should be closed. He’d made sure it stayed open until it was lowered into the dirt where the one person he’d come close to loving would be swallowed up by the earth and the critters living in it. He knows he lost a piece of himself then—he’s not one for poetry, but it had felt like he was abandoning half of his heart or soul when the wooden lid shadowed that fiery red hair.
And now it was back in front of him, smiling.
“Did he do all that?” is the first thing Andrew says in nearly half an hour. He doesn’t explain, give context, or anything that might make the question an intelligible one. It doesn’t matter.
“Him and Lola,” Neil answers, scrunching his face like he’s remembering a bad smell. There’s a little crease between his eyebrows that Andrew would kill to smooth with his thumb, but letting go might make Neil disappear completely, so he just glares at it. “They’re both dead.”
“Your uncle was a minute too late.” The memories bring up that feeling of despair Andrew’s been trying so hard to ignore. He swore to never feel like he did that day in the motel room, where everything turned to static and the walls were suddenly too close. He hates being helpless, but at least that hate is a feeling.
Neil’s eyes become sad, which is not something Andrew had ever seen on him before. Regretful, sure. Maybe melancholy. But not plain sad. It hurts even more to know that they could’ve gotten to a point where they could be this vulnerable with each other.
“I figured it would be something about timing,” Neil mutters, looking like he’s mentally kicking himself for not being able to fix what happened seven months ago, in a completely different universe. “I’m sorry—”
“Do not apologise,” Andrew cuts in, mustering all the strength he has in him to glare at Neil. “This is not something you could’ve found your way out alone.”
It’s taken him this long to understand that there was absolutely nothing he or any of the Foxes could’ve done to save Neil from his father. Cycle of nature and all that. He’s not going to let this version believe anything different.
Neil huffs and opens his mouth again. “But I could’ve—”
“You could have done a lot of things. Like not let yourself be taken. But tell me honestly if you think any of that would have been possible, let alone feasible.” A little part of Andrew can’t believe the most he’s talked in half a year is to tell Neil to stop being a martyr. Clearly this universe still has issues with self-sacrifice.
“It was me or you,” Neil practically whispers, head hung low. Andrew hates him a little for being so predictable. “They were going to hurt you if I didn’t go with them. All of you.”
“Yeah. I know. They hurt you, and that is the alternative you will always choose.” Even in this timeline—or whatever the hell it is—even with Neil alive, there is still evidence of that choice all over his face. Andrew’s made himself come to terms with it a while ago. “You got lucky.”
For a split second, Neil looks like he’s trying to come up with another argument for why his feelings of guilt are completely justified and not just because he feels bad about leaving everyone behind. Andrew squeezes his hand one more time before he has the chance to talk, dragging him out of what looks like the court’s away-team locker room.
—
Aaron has never seen the Foxes be this happy about being together. Sure, Other-Kevin’s yelling at everyone and Other-Andrew has a scowl on his face, giant spoon shoved in an ice cream pint, but none of it is the hostile environment Aaron is so used to.
Other-Dan isn’t glaring at anyone. If anything, she looks like she wants to fondly roll her eyes at Other-Kevin’s ridiculousness. Everyone else is sitting in a circle, ignoring their resident exy addict and playing what looks to be an old game of Monopoly. Other-Matt is gladly decimating the others, with almost half the board and all the railroads, but no one looks ready to jump at his throat about it. It’s… nice. Unexpected and new, but nice.
His Foxes look hesitant to join, but when Other-Allison drags Renee into the Monopoly circle, claiming her as ‘an extra head to help murder Matt’ (who is doing much better than Aaron ever would’ve guessed), they spread out around the dorm to get a little more comfortable.
The scene is straight out of a fever dream, but Aaron is way too exhausted by the past hour to do anything other than wander close to his other self and quietly ask Other-Nicky if he can sit. His cousin, unburdened by grief, grins at him blindingly and makes more than enough space for him. Eventually, everyone is in pairs and doing everything to stop Other-Matt from winning this round. Regular-Matt had tittered between himself and one of his girlfriends before plopping down in the middle and playing as a wild card.
It is chaos. At least three people are screaming, Allison is throwing money like she’s in a strip-club, Other-Dan looks seconds away from throttling Matt, Nicky is sprawled across his own lap, and Aaron only has, embarrassingly, one property. He looks at himself, who shrugs and shows him his very empty hand, and groans. How can he, master at Monopoly, have only one brown property?
He hears a quiet huff and glances behind him, where he knows his brother is. Other-Andrew is still perched on the windowsill, watching with a now-empty pint of ice cream. Aaron can see the hint of a smile on his lips. It’s all he can do to smile back.
Then Other-Matt shrieks and Aaron has point two seconds before everybody throws themselves at the backliner. Kevin, disliking the idea of being buried alive by his team times two, manages to slither out and goes to Other-Andrew, looking a little spooked and a lot concerned.
“Is this normal?” Aaron hears him ask, though he has to strain through the commotion. He tries not to find the disturbed tone to his voice amusing.
“Only on Tuesdays,” comes his Other-Brother’s deadpan response. It takes Aaron a few seconds to remember that it is in fact Friday and that his brother, in all universes, is a little shit.
Other-Matt is in the middle of trying to count his money with four teammates hanging off of him when the door opens, revealing a laughing Neil and a significantly happier Andrew. Not that it’s obvious. His face is still blank and he’s letting Neil do all the talking, but Aaron can see how his shoulders are more relaxed. There’s a little twinkle in his eye that hasn’t been there in seven months.
Aaron can’t believe he’s missed seeing his brother be in love. Especially with that idiot.
---
When Neil opens the door to the dorm, Andrew is definitely not expecting a pile of Foxes on one of the Matts while his clone, his Aaron, and a Kevin stand in the corner conspiratorially. He even thinks he spots a smile on Aaron’s face, though who it’s directed at, he can’t be sure.
Matt’s big hand breaks through the wave of bodies and waves desperately in his and Neil’s direction.
“Neil!” Matt shouts, breathless and only slightly panicked. So this is the other Matt, then. “You gotta help me, man!”
Andrew looks to the boy beside him just in time to see him bite back a laugh, mirth dancing in his glacier blue eyes. He looks so happy, Andrew thinks. He tries not to think about seven months without that smile, that face, that person, but his mind is quite fond of spirals.
“Help you get away with cheating again?” Neil calls, pulling Andrew right out of whatever rabbit hole he was diving into. The groan Matt 2.0 lets out is the key to Neil’s laughter and, consequently, to Andrew’s throbbing heart.
“Neil! You wound me!” The over-the-top-ness of the whole thing has Neil cackling even more. Andrew wants to bottle the sound up. “I have never cheated at Monopoly.”
Allison 2.0 momentarily peels herself away from the mountain to scoff and cross her arms. “We all have video evidence of you stealing money from the bank. That’s eight—count ‘em!— eight different times.”
“Banks are corrupt systems that are promoting the rise and expansion of capitalism, which is a corrupt system on its own,” Matt 2.0 says proudly, having finally escaped his attackers. To Andrew’s great entertainment, he is met with sixteen blank stares.
“You just won at Monopoly,” Dan says, pointing at the amount of cards on his side of the board.
Silence.
“So what?” The words barely come out of Matt 2.0’s mouth before everyone is throwing themselves on him again while he descends into a fit of mischievous giggling. The sight is almost enough for Andrew to muster the essence of a smile. Almost.
It takes another fifteen minutes for everything to calm down, which is honestly impressive considering how many times the backliner stops to brag about his undeserved win. The two Renees manage to dissuade anyone from jumping him again as they put away the game.
Another five minutes have them all dispersed throughout Fox Tower, in all their respective dorms. Andrew’s is still way too crowded, with two Kevins, two Nickys, two Aarons, and two hims. Only one Neil. He wishes it was just him and Neil.
Then, strangely enough, he wishes it was just him and Aaron. His Aaron. It’s been such a whirlwind since they woke up here, wherever here is, and Aaron seems to be the most composed of them all. Even if the Monopoly fiasco put smiles on their faces, Andrew knows the Foxes are still reeling from it all. His brother looks like he kind of knows what’s going on, and Andrew desperately needs to know too, before he loses it completely.
It’s really awkward for all of three seconds, after which Nicky decides he’s held in his tears for long enough and throws himself at Neil, sobbing the whole way. Nicky 2.0 seems only a little regretful. Neil, unlike a few hours ago, is completely unprepared for a bawling man wrapped around his knees and freezes up, looking to literally anyone else in the room for help. Kevin suddenly seems to find the floors quite interesting and Andrew swears he sees Aaron smirk before turning on his heel towards the kitchen.
The others simply stare at the mess of Nicky and Neil, both unconcerned and a little fascinated. Eventually, because watching Neil try to figure out how to comfort a crying person does get a little boring, Andrew and Aaron 2.0 are the only witnesses left.
“I really don’t make it a habit of being nice about Josten,” not-his-Aaron says, eyes still trained on their cousin, “but I am sorry that you lost him. He’s kind of perfect for you.”
Andrew tries not to think about that too much. He remembers the blind trust and the obedience Neil showed him that first time they kissed, hands touching everything but him because Andrew hadn’t said yes yet. He remembers how Neil always gave him a choice instead of demanding he do something. He remembers their truth-for-truth games, where Andrew would say more about himself than he had in years in exchange for another secret about his mystery runaway—it’s still his favourite game.
Andrew knows that Neil was it for him, but nothing gold ever seems to stay gold in his hands.
He focuses on how easily this Aaron is able to talk to him instead. It’s not strange, per se, but the lack of suspicion and barely-concealed hostility has Andrew double-checking if this really is his twin, other universe or not. The face looking back at him is his own, save for the wire-framed glasses perched on a familiar nose, but the expression in those hazel eyes is more brotherly. Like Aaron 2.0 is waiting for Andrew to say some scathing remark so he can tease him about it. Andrew solves that particular weirdness by not answering at all.
Nicky stops hiccuping like a baby at some point, though he’s still draped over Neil like a linen sheet on a clothesline. It’s bordering on pathetic, but before Andrew has time to do anything, his clone comes out and drags Nicky away. If it was anyone else, Andrew would be at their throats with at least two knives, but he’s pretty sure his cousin is safe with Andrew 2.0. Even if it is really weird.
—
The first night is hell for everyone involved. Fox Tower is more than big enough for all of them, but codependency runs rampant among them, so finding sleeping arrangements that won’t result in multiple breakdowns is tedious. Matt offers more than once to sleep in the hallway—like an idiot—but Other-Dan drags him into the girls’ room and he isn’t seen for the rest of the night. Aaron thinks he would get mauled by his girlfriends if he brings it up again.
Kevin picks the living room rug because he thinks it’s weird to sleep with yourself. He’d probably have taken the couch if Andrew hadn’t thrown a shoe at his head and reserved the whole thing for himself. Aaron is content with the bean bag.
Nicky’s in Other-Matt’s room, which seems to be where Other-Nicky stays on the regular now. Aaron doesn’t doubt they’ll have endless things to talk about.
He’s barely had time to get comfortable before he suddenly feels like every single one of his limbs weighs a ton. The adrenaline and stress of the day is finally catching up to him, making him more exhausted than he’s been in a long time. It doesn’t take long for him to drift off under his brother’s watchful gaze.
---
When Andrew wakes up, there are still too many of hims to be truly comfortable. This sentiment is further enforced when two Kevins join him in the kitchen for a joint session of judging every single thing Andrew picks up for breakfast. Their disapproval quintuples when his clone comes in and reaches for the exact same things.
How reassuring to know that Kevin Day is exactly the same in all universes.
The day doesn’t get much more exciting than that. It’s one of the last Saturdays before the season officially starts, so the Foxes are spending it the only way they know how; blow out all their limbs on the court, followed by a party that should frankly be illegal. Not that campus security much cares about that sort of thing anymore. The previous year has them turning a blind eye to quite a few minor things.
For Andrew, this is completely unnecessary. He would just skip the exy altogether and wander around aimlessly until someone comes to get him so they can all go to Eden’s. His other self seems to be thinking the same thing.
Unfortunately, Neil Josten is just as much of an exy freak as Kevin is, and even more unfortunately, Andrew will not miss a single chance to be around him. Not after seven months without.
This is why he’s in the passenger seat of his Maserati while his clone does too many back-and-forths to get everyone to the court. This is also why he’s in the goal for the first time since the Bearcats, getting used to the familiar weight of the racquet. It is not an ideal situation, but Neil’s on the opposing team, and Andrew realises he misses their scrimmages so much it hurts.
He seems to do that a lot now—hurt, ache, long, whatever you want to call it. He’s not sure he likes it, but then again, he didn’t think he liked the fear either. At least they’re feelings.
He gets no time to think about it, though, as a ball comes whizzing past him to light the goal up red. It is, naturally, followed by the sound of two Kevins whining about effort and presence on the court. Andrew wants to throw his racquet at one of them. Preferably both.
With double the Foxes, the team is obviously quite a bit larger. There are the new recruits, but they had only brought the number up a little. There was still space on the bench for all them and then some. With two teams, they’re practically sitting on each other. It makes playing both less taxing and infinitely more exhausting.
Andrew almost feels bad for Wymack, who’s already thrown off by this whole idea that he now has double of all his troublemakers. Andrew’s pretty sure he saw him wince when he realised that means four Minyards.
Now with twenty-three players instead of fifteen, Wymack’s having a little trouble adapting. The first game, basically nobody gets switched out. Andrew gets to stay in net the whole time, much to his dismay. Kevin gets very obviously agitated after ten minutes of sitting on his ass and doing nothing but screaming.
Neil, though. Neil looks perfectly at home, running up and down the court with a grin on his face that Andrew just can’t help staring at. His attention is still on the ball, though, and he gets the delight of seeing those eyebrows crease in frustration when he sends it flying to the other goal. He sees himself roll his eyes and stop the ball, which is accompanied by a whistle to pause the game. Neil narrows his eyes at Andrew, looking determined to get past him. But Andrew knows him, and he knows that Neil is just excited to have Andrew as both the danger and the protector.
Andrew can’t help but hate being in the net a little less.
By the third game, nobody’s standing but Neil and the two Kevins, who are seemingly arguing about strategies. The groan they elicit from the twenty other players on the ground is absolutely deserved. Andrew’s choosing to focus solely on Neil’s voice.
Going to Eden’s afterwards, which was the one thing Andrew actually wanted to do, proves to be so complicated that they give up and stay in the dorms instead. Andrew fights this change by going up to the roof with a full pack of cigarettes and no one following behind him—even if that small part of him wishes Neil was there.
—
Aaron hates Fox Tower parties. Not because he hates the people there, though he doesn’t exactly like them either, but because they get so rowdy and he can never quite figure out where he’s supposed to stand and who he’s supposed to talk to. He figures he wouldn’t mind it quite as much if Andrew hadn’t disappeared at the first opportunity, but since that’s very typical of him, he then wonders if parties could be a little more enjoyable if Katelyn was there with him.
He misses her. It’s only been two days, and they’ve been apart for much longer than that before, but at least back home he has the option to go see her when the longing starts getting too much. Here he doesn’t even know if they’re still together.
The door opens and suddenly it’s the only sound he hears. The music cuts out; the world turns to slow-motion as he watches the love of his life step into the noise, looking just as gorgeous as she always does. None of the Vixens are behind her. It’s just Katelyn Mackenzie in that red leather jacket she found at the thrift for five bucks during their second date.
Everything comes back full force when he sees Other-Him stride up to her and kiss her. He’s both jealous and so incredibly relieved. That means she stays here too. It makes him a little less anxious about them.
She’s the only non-Fox invited to the party. No one wanted to have to explain the space time fuckery to more than one other person, and absolutely no one was able to convince Other-Aaron not to invite her. Not even either of the Andrews.
It takes a few minutes for her to wrap her head around it, but when she does, she looks delighted to see two Aarons. That much joy directed at him is something he is not yet familiar with.
It’s starting to get late when Aaron notices that he hasn’t seen his brother in a while. Since he vanished, actually. It doesn’t take a lot of detective work to figure out where he’s gone—Aaron’s been privy to two outings to the roof since Neil’s been… indisposed of—but it still takes a lot of debating whether he should go bother Andrew in his much-needed space.
He watches his girlfriend hang onto Other-Him and figures he doesn’t have much else to do down here. But then he sees Neil and Other-Andrew in the corner, just existing beside each other, and he knows that he can’t be the one to go on the roof. He approaches both of them with a resigned sigh and mentally prepares himself for the chance that this Andrew will jump him.
Surprisingly, he doesn’t. Aaron explains that Andrew might be on the roof and he really wants to go check on him, but, regrettably, Neil would probably get a better result than he would.
And so, Neil takes his leave with a quick kiss that has Other-Andrew looking way too happy for Aaron’s taste (as in, one corner of his lips hikes up half a millimetre). Aaron wants to go back to his own corner, which is closer to the refreshments table, but Other-Andrew grabs the hem of his shirt and pulls him down.
They sit there in awkward silence while Aaron tries not to stare too hard at his Other-Girlfriend. He’s not worried about Other-Andrew seeing him. Well, not that worried. But he can’t deny the little jump his heart does when those bored hazel eyes land on Katelyn.
“I broke the deal,” his brother says, like those four words mean nothing. They send Aaron reeling.
He broke the deal that bound them together all those years ago and he doesn’t even seem mad about it. Granted, he probably had time to get over it, but what? The only reason Katelyn can be around his Andrew nowadays is because he’s too depressed to care about it, but in this universe, he allows it?
Aaron doesn’t know what to say. So he plays dumb.
“What deal?” Way too dumb.
“You are an idiot, but you are not stupid,” Other-Andrew responds, his stare blank and even as always. “You know what deal.”
“Why?” He knows Andrew would prefer a better worded question, but it’s the only sound his mouth manages to make. So it’ll have to do.
“It was Neil for Katelyn.” That doesn’t make it any better. That means Andrew chose Neil, chose someone else, over his brother. Part of him knew it would happen sooner or later, but it still hurts.
“You broke it for Neil?”
Other-Andrew huffs, and it almost sounds like frustration. Aaron shouldn’t be glad, but he is. No matter the universe, he doesn’t get to trade family for some psycho liar with ties to the mafia.
“I broke the deal for you, Aaron.”
…Huh?
“What?” He must be dreaming. Or he’s totally completely drunk. One quick glance at his cup shows it’s still full and this is very real. “What do you mean?”
Other-Andrew gives him one last unimpressed look and gets up to leave. Aaron is too stunned to do anything but gape and wonder what the hell he means.
---
Andrew’s been on the roof for about two hours, alone with his pack of cigarettes, the city, and that swooping feeling in his stomach every time he looks down. Everything is exactly like it is at home, in his universe. It’s a small respite from the chaos that he wants to hold onto for as long as possible.
Then the door opens, and Neil comes to sit down next to him. Out of some instinct that is buried deep in his bones, Andrew hands his half-finished cigarette to him, and watches the glow of the cherry ignite the fire of his hair. Neil takes one drag (Andrew wants to swallow the smoke from his lips) and lets the rest of the thing burn in front of his face.
He doesn’t say a word. Neither does Andrew.
They stay like that, sitting side by side, until the sky turns a deep blue and the stars start to show themselves. Andrew finds the city lights more comforting. They’re more tangible.
Eventually, Neil turns to him and breathes out like he wants to say something. Andrew thinks he already knows what it’ll be, but he’ll let him speak anyway.
“Can I lean on your shoulder?” Neil asks, piercing blue eyes drooping with fatigue from the day. Even if he tries to deny how tiring that exy practice was, Andrew can see right through him. He’s basically dead on his feet.
It’s not a very difficult decision: either he says yes and Neil will touch him, or he says no and Neil won’t.
“Yes,” he decides, watching the butt of the cigarette he just finished make its way down to the parking lot. It doesn’t have time to touch the pavement before there’s a weight on his shoulder that is accompanied by one of Neil’s tiny little sighs. Again, there’s a lance of aching pain shooting through his chest. He knows what it is. He just didn’t think it would hurt so much to yearn for someone.
He doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do without Neil now that he’s had him again. He’ll go back to his own universe and experience that same feeling of getting ripped away from his only chance at being loved.
“You’re thinking too much,” Neil mutters, practically snoring already.
Andrew huffs. “New concept for you?”
Neil gives him one chuckle, though it’s quiet and tired. Andrew would trade the world to hear it again.
“Aaron really loves you,” Neil says unprompted. “He and Nicky would go to war for you ten times over.”
“Where is this coming from?” Andrew asks after a few seconds. Neil always had an uncanny ability to know Andrew’s exact thoughts, and it seems he’s been perfecting said abilities over the past few months. It’s borderline creepy.
“I know that sigh. My Andrew does the same thing when he gets in his head.” Andrew should be listening, but his mind latches onto ‘my Andrew’ and refuses to let go. He’s been referring to Aaron and Renee the same way, but there’s something different about Neil doing it. “I tell him that he’s been loved since he joined his brother, but I don’t think he believes me.”
And just like that, Andrew needs to find a way out of this conversation. Sure, this is exactly what he was thinking about, but that was supposed to stay inside—not be presented to him so bluntly by the only person who could get away with it.
“I hate you,” he says as an answer.
“I know.”