#nmftg

Neil was being subjected to some movie called “Austin Powers,” when Nicky flung open the door in theatrical despair. He immediately made for Neil with a wild look in his eyes. 

“Help, please, help.” Nicky begged. “I’m gonna die.” 

Neil was standing halfway across the room before he could think. “What happened?” he asked. 

“Mom just called to wish Andrew and Aaron a happy birthday,” Nicky answered. 

Neil tried to gauge how actually serious this was. 

“And that’s a bad thing?” Matt asked. 

“Oh, Boyd look at him, I’ve only ever seen Hemmick quake like this when his cousin’s got his knives out.” Seth said, lazily gesturing with the tv remote. 

“They uh, well,” Nicky shifted around, looking down at the sleeves of his sweater. “Dad hasn’t said a word to me since Erik and my mom calls on Christmas to ask if I’ve returned to God and disconnects when I say no.” He never looks this shamed. Not even back when Seth and Aaron were constantly on him about being gay, Nicky never looked like this. “I don’t think Aaron’s spoken to them since Aunt Tilda’s funeral, and Andrew avoids them like they’re a contagious disease. He and dad didn’t hit it off too well when they met at juvie.” 

“It couldn’t have gone that badly,” Matt said. “I mean, your dad supported his early release, right?” 

“Yeah, but-” Nicky started. 

“He ever hit you?” Seth asked, cutting him off, much to Neil and Matt’s surprise. 

“What? No, he just thinks I’m an affront to God and his reputation.” Nicky answered. 

“Hemmick,” Seth groaned. “Fuck your parents, my dad used to regularly beat the shit out of me and he still came to my games until I threatened to call the cops. I’ve never even heard you talk about yours before.” 

“Why did she call, really?” Neil asked, not wanting to go near Seth’s issues with a ten foot exy stick. 

“To invite us home for Thanksgiving dinner.” 

“Absolutely not,” Seth pointed the remote at Nicky. “That reeks of bullshit.” 

“What if she had a change of heart? C’mon Seth, it’s his mom.” Matt argued. 

“What did you tell her?” Neil asked. 

“Nothing! I hung up, she said it was contingent on Aaron and Andrew going too. Mom made that crystal clear and there’s no way Andrew will agree.” 

“You never know until you try,” Matt said, still trying to be supportive. 

“Don’t, dude, take it as a sign or some shit.” Seth said. 

“Wait, why are you here telling us?” Neil asked. Nicky had come in asking for help, what exactly Neil, Matt, and Seth were supposed to do about this was beyond him. 

“You and Seth got Andrew to do Halloween and night practices, just, help? Please?” Nicky begged. 

Neil would like to go one day without getting roped into someone else’s shit. “This is not our business--” he starts to say. 

“Tell them to come here,” is what Seth says over him. Okay, whatever, it can be Seth’s business then. They all look at him. Seth continues, “tell your parents if they want to see the twins they can come to a game. Andrew can duck out on them after but they’ll have come all the way here so you can at least talk to them.” 

It wasn’t a bad plan, per say, although it did rely on the conceit of Andrew not killing Nicky’s parents for whatever it was they did that he hates them for. Arguably it was better for Nicky’s parents to come here where the whole team could keep an eye on them then just Nicky and the cousins going to Columbia, with likely only Kevin for back up. 

If Nicky surprised Andrew with this, though, Andrew would kill his parents and then Neil. Was it time to die? To be done with the tedious march of dying and get it over with? “Don’t surprise Andrew with them. Warn him they're coming, if they say yes.” Neil said, deciding he didn’t want to just be another body in Andrew’s theoretical killing spree. 

“What if they don’t come?” Nicky asked. His voice was still small and uncomfortable. 

“Then they don’t come Hemmick, but you said it yourself Andrew’s never going to agree. Just take it as a dodged bullet, they need to make the effort.” 

Apparently, they agreed to come, at least Nicky was expecting them. The day of the game Nicky didn’t say a word unless prompted to. When Neil was in Millport, Coach Hernadez and the team were constantly bugging Neil about his parents coming to a game. As if it were some big thing. And then Seth too had shared that opinion. Looking at Nicky-- 

Look Neil got it, there was some desperate thing he tried to smother everyday that was still mourning his Mother. Neil knew that if Mary walked in through the stadium doors she’d be doing it to beat Neil’s skull in. But if she were alive to do it-- 

Neil got it. He did. He understood that combination of fear and hope splintered across Nicky’s face. He kept an eye on Nicky the whole game, as every time there was a time out or a reset, Nicky searched the stands and became smaller and smaller. Nicky was a tall guy, he was lanky sure, but built enough to be a backliner on a collegiate exy team. Small was an absurd thing for Nicky to be. But that’s the only word to describe the way all personality just vanished how timid he became as more and more time went by and he didn’t see his parents in the seats he’d set aside for them. 

Neil understood it a little too well, which is why the second the game ended he changed out and rushed for the doors. He wanted to get back to the dorms, he wanted to avoid the walking mirror of his own grief that was sulking in the locker room. 

He’d avoid everyone, if he left right then. He knew that. The other Foxes were gonna take their sweet time and Andrew, who was still recovering from his withdrawals, wouldn’t bother to make them hurry up when his lot had already agreed to stay in Palmetto for the weekend. 

Neil pushed open the door to the parking lot thinking of the field behind the dorms and his half-full pack of cigarettes. And then watched his night go up in flames as he looked at the three people waiting in the parking lot.  

“Hello, young man, you’re with the Foxes right?” A dire looking older man asked. 

Neil studied the trio. The older man and woman were standing close, the woman was a borderline clone of Nicky-- both dressed nice. Very preacher and his wife, Luther and Maria Hemmick were exactly how he pictured, if a bit taller.  

It was the second man that Neil couldn’t place. He bore no resemblance to Nicky or the twins. Not to mention Neil had never heard of any other family member existing. 

“Who’s asking?” Neil asked, shutting the door behind him and listening for the automatic lock. 

“We’re Nichloas’s parents,” Maria said with a soft smile. 

“I’m AJ’s old foster brother,” the second man said, stretching out a hand, “Drake.” 

Neil only recognized one of those words and the last time it was said it had come out of a cop’s mouth, so he just glanced at the offered hand before ignoring it and looking directly into Luther Hemmick’s eyes. 

“You’re too late, they all left for some bar downtown,” he lied. 

Luther narrowed his eyes, “really? Because I can see the boy’s ridiculous car parked right over there and the game only just ended. So, why don’t you go and get Nicky and the boys before we have a problem.” 

He was so authoritative, Luther had all the assurance of someone used to getting their way. 

“I’m surprised you’re so confident about what time the game was, considering how late you got here. They left, maybe go try your luck down by the bars or actually show up on time for your son's game.” 

“You sure can back talk, can’t you?” Drake whistled. 

Neil wanted these people out of his parking lot. He wanted them out of his parking lot more then he wanted to keep out of prison. 

“We know they haven’t left,” Luther said. 

“You should leave.” Neil was done attempting to be slick about this. “Shoo,” he took a page from Andrew’s book and tried to usher them out of the parking lot without giving up his post at the door. 

“We’re not leaving until we see them.” Luther said. 

Neil just crossed his arms and stared at them. Short of beating the shit out of one of them, he didn’t know how to make them leave. He could definitely take Luther and Maria in a fight. But Drake had some muscles on him, was stood in a forced relaxed sort of way that suggested he was both here expecting conflict and knew how to handle it. 

Engaging in a hand to hand with more than one person was always a no-no in Neil’s book. Both by order of his mom and common sense. He didn’t think it was likely that Luther would interfere if he went for Drake first, but Neil also didn’t think he’d win that fight. Which made the whole thing a non starter. 

“So, how was the game?” Drake asked after a long minute of silence.

Neil did not answer. Another minute lapsed before Drake tried again. 

“I’m the reason they were late,” he apologized. “I wanted to surprise AJ, so I called them up. They had to pick me up at the airport. They wanted to be on time but it’s cute that you’re so angry for Nicky.” 

Neil continued to stare. 

“Would it kill you to make conversation?” Luther asked. 

Neil opened his mouth to answer but the door opening cut him off. Neil glanced over his shoulder to see the upperclassmen, Nicky and Aaron, all flood out of the doors around him. Andrew must still be washing down his pills with whiskey. Neil didn’t know if that were a good thing or not. 

“Mom? Dad?” Nicky asked in that quiet way he’d said everything all day. 

“AJ!” Drake cheered, moving forward with his hands outstretched as if to touch Aaron. 

Neil side-stepped between them and pushed Aaron back with his shoulder. There were too many things about this that Neil didn’t know. 

Nicky started to introduce the other’s to his parents, one flitting glance showed his mood hadn’t improved. 

Aaron stepped out from behind Neil and raised an eyebrow. “I don’t know you.” Aaron said to Drake. 

“Ah, the twin, Aaron, right?” Drake asked, putting his hand out for a shake. 

Neil shifted in front of Aaron again and took Drake’s hand, grasping as hard as he could. “Neil Josten,” Neil introduced himself. 

“That’s one hell of a grip you got there.” Drake said. 

“I’m sure it is,” here’s what Neil knew: Drake was the name Higgins had said when he came asking Andrew about a case. A case that had to do with children. Drake was the name that had Andrew storming out of the dorms. This case had Andrew pissed enough to break a phone and almost his own hand. 

Neil didn’t know nearly enough, but he did know enough to not let Drake near Aaron. Nel didn’t look back at Aaron, he just let go of Drake’s hand and kept his eyes on him.

“You know,” Drake said after another too long moment of silence. “If you just open that door for me, I’ll go and get AJ myself so we can head to dinner.” He took another step to the side, already going for the door.

“No,” Neil got in his way again. “Aaron will go get everyone. Let’s chat, I’m curious, you know Andrew’s never mentioned you?” 

Aaron left without another word and Neil let himself take a glance at the others-- all preoccupied with the Hemmicks still, although Neil caught Renee in a curious glance at Neil and Drake. 

“Really? I’m surprised, we almost adopted him. Mom was even gonna give him part of my college fund.” 

“Not a word,” Neil answered. “You must not have been that important.” 

The door slammed open before Drake could answer. Everyone jumped at the noise as a grinning Andrew stepped out of the Foxhole Court. Andrew took one look at Drake and then started laughing. Neil grit his teeth at the noise, he had no idea what Andrew was going to do.

There were other people in the parking lot. A few too many stragglers were left still going to their cars for Andrew to commit murder. Neil didn’t know what Drake did, but he figured the Foxes would back Andrew if push came to shrug. Strangers couldn’t be trusted. 

Andrew straightened up and strode forward. 

“AJ,” Drake said, a tense smile on his face. Neil realized he’d probably never seen Andrew on his meds. “Long time no see,” Drake stuck out his hand again, once more trying to get past Neil. 

It wasn’t happening. Neil stepped inbetween the two of them, grabbing Drake’s hand again to use it as a stress ball.

“Neil,” Andrew tried to warn before laughter overtook him again. Neil felt Andrew grab onto the back of his shirt. 

“What’s so funny?” Drake asked. 

Neil dug his nails into the back of his hand a little before he dropped it. Neil could tell Drake was unsettled, he’d been tense before standing beside Mr and Mrs Upright and Holy. Maria had told Nicky to bring the twins for Thanksgiving to their house in Columbia. A private residence an hour away from everyone. Now, they were in public with the entire team plus bystanders. Whatever the plan had been had gone to shit the second Nicky had listened to Seth. 

Neil didn’t smile much, but this felt like a special occasion, besides the grin that creeped up onto Neil’s face wasn’t his own. “I think you getting all the way to South Carolina when you’re wanted by the police in California is a little funny. Don’t you?” 

“Excuse me?” Drake floundered. 

Andrew’s laughing got louder. The door opened again and out came Aaron, Kevin, Wymack and Abby. Everyone was finally in the parking lot, they were a full circus. Nicky drowning as his parents made small talk with the upperclassmen. Andrew in hysterics as Neil tried to figure out how to get Drake to leave before Andrew caught his breath and stabbed someone. 

“Hey Coach,” Neil called, “you gotta come meet this clown.” 

“Josten, what in the fuck is going on?” Coach asked as he made a beeline directly for them, Aaron and Kevin at either side. 

“I don’t know what AJ told you, but it’s all a misunderstanding.” Drake tried. 

Andrew’s laughter cut off and he tugged on the back of Neil’s shirt. 

“Too many witnesses,” Neil murmured. 

Andrew stepped around Neil without a word, Neil let him. 

“What is this? Some ploy to get Higgins to drop the case? Did some little birdy make a call?” Andrew asked, he hadn’t drawn a knife yet but he might as well have. All conversation stopped the second Andrew started talking, all eyes on him. 

“Now, Andrew--” Luther started. 

“No, you don’t get to talk. Not after you brought him here. Around Nicky? Aaron? After all I did to make sure they never met.” Andrew didn’t look away from Drake. “You said you would talk to Cass, Luther, you said there would be no more kids in that house.” Andrew started laughing again. 

Drake opened his mouth as if to speak and Andrew hit him before he could get a word out. Drake only barely managed to stay standing, but when Andrew hit him again he hit the floor. 

Coach pulled Andrew back before he could in a third swing, But Neil figures the third probably would have knocked Drake out cold. 

“What the hell is going on?!” Coach yelled. 

“He’s wanted by the state of California for hurting children,” Neil pointed out. . 

“Those charges--” Luther starts. 

“I’ll hit you next,” Andrew promised and Luther shut his mouth. 

Drake managed to pull himself up off the ground, a smart man would have left then, after getting knocked on his ass in a parking lot full of athletes and witnesses. But Drake lunged for Andrew, who was still being held back by Wymack, instead. 

Neil shoved Drake back before he could reach Andrew. Drake cursed and swung at Neil, a little too fast for Neil to dodge. Neil took the hit, he could, Neil was built for taking hits. Neil drove his fist into Drake’s stomach and then made a tactical retreat. 

“Back the fuck up,” Neil said, still smiling, tasting blood in his teeth. 

Drake lurched but then visibly noticed how everyone had gotten closer. This wasn’t a one on one fight, it was ten on one, twelve if Wymack let go of that vice grip on Andrew’s arm. 

“You--” Nicky was the first to speak. His eyes glassy and his breath quick. “This man hurt Andrew and you knew?” He asked Luther without looking at him.

“I’m going to have to ask the three of you to leave before I have to call security, I don’t appreciate you coming here and harassing my players.” 

“We were invited?” Maria tried to argue. 

“Aw, Drake,” Andrew giggled. “Was this worth breaking your bail? You know crossing state lines is a felony, not that that is anything new.” 

“Dan has Higgin’s number,” Neil added, and then looking at Luther and Maria, “aiding and abetting? I wonder what your church will think?” 

Dan pulled out her phone.

The three of them scrambled off to their car. Only after the Hemmick’s car had pulled out of the parking lot did Wymack let go of a laughing Andrew. 

“Neil, your face,” Abby worried when Neil turned around. 

“It’s just a split lip, I’m fine.” 

“Who was that?” Aaron asked. “What the fuck just happened?” 

Andrew was still laughing too hard to answer, he flapped a hand at Neil. As if Neil would be able to answer anything. 

“Oh, I’ve got no fucking idea who that was,” Neil argued. “We should go back to the dorms.” It was less likely Drake or Luther knew where Abby lived, but there were more locks between the outside world and any of their dorms. Also it was closer. 

“What did that guy even do?” Allison asked. 

“Drake likes little kids,” Andrew answered between laughs. “He was my foster brother before I went to juvie.” 

“You knew about this Josten?” Aaron asked. 

“No,” Neil spit blood out of his mouth. “I made an educated guess. Dorms, let’s go, we need to hunker down and call Higgins.” 

“Talk about a fucking guess!” Seth exclaimed. 

“This whole thing was just--” Nicky’s voice hitched. “They knew?” 

“Shhhh, of course they knew,” Andrew said, “let’s go before Nicky starts crying. Neil can drive.” Andrew pulled a set of keys out of his pocket and threw them at Neil. 

“Dan give me the number,” Wymack said, holding out his hand. “Abby’ll grab the first aid kit and we’ll meet you all over there.” 

“I’m fine,” Neil said again, spitting out more blood and unlocking the cousin’s car. 

They all managed to get to the dorms without a major incident, although Nicky did in fact cry the entire five minute drive. Dan, Wymack, and Abby would get there soon enough, but everyone else pulled into the parking lot at the same time.

“You drive exactly the speed limit,” Andrew noted as they all got out of the car. 

“Can I talk to you for a second?” Neil asked. 

“One.” Andrew said, heading inside.

“Andrew--” Aaron started as they went after him.

“I do not want to talk to any of you.” 

“Andrew plea-” Neil started. 

“I do not like that word.” Andrew jammed his thumb into the elevator call. 

Neil blanched as it occurred to him why that might be. 

Andrew seemed to think better of waiting for the elevator and went directly to the emergency staircase. “Don’t follow me,” he said. 

“Just wait a second,” Neil tried again, coming to stand just in front of where Andrew already had the stairwell door open.

The elevator arrived and the upperclassmen got on, but Aaron, Nicky and Kevin didn’t. 

“What Neil?” Andrew asked. 

Neil lowered his voice. “Can I borrow a knife?” he asked. 

“Can you?” Andrew mocked. 

“May I borrow a knife?” 

“I don’t want or need your protection.” 

“I didn’t ask.”

“Neil.”

“Andrew.”

Andrew stared at Neil, reached a hand up to where Neil’s lip was still bleeding and pressed into the broken skin. “You are a dumbass.” Andrew said. 

“Okay,” Neil said. He could barely feel it, still running on adrenaline. Besides, a split lip might as well have been a paper cut compared to the rest of Neil. 

Andrew pulled a knife out of his wrist band and handed it blade first to Neil. Neil took it without cutting himself and Andrew went up the stairs. 

Neil took one look at the knife, four inch blade, decent balance, he slipped it into his hoodie pocket and went to rejoin the others. Kevin was quiet, Nicky was still sobbing, and Aaron was pissed. 

“What the fuck was that?” Aaron asked. 

“We don’t know where they went,” Neil told him. “Nicky, give me your phone.”

The second elevator opened and Neil shoved the three of them on and then just reached into Nicky’s pocket and pulled out his phone. 

“You seem to know a lot of shit Josten,” Aaron said. 

“Yes, despite my best efforts.” Neil agreed, because really. He’d been doing everything to avoid knowing. To avoid this. Neil slammed the button for their floor and then turned on Nicky’s phone. 

By the time they reached their floor, Neil had found the contact on Nicky’s phone. ‘Baby’ with an absurd amount of hearts before and after. Neil hit dial and handed the phone to Nicky when the line connected. Renee was waiting in the hall in front of her dorm room.

“Aaron, if the upperclassmen say something stupid will you hit them?” Neil asked, as soon as he did he knew the answer. “Can you take Nicky and Kevin to your room?”

Aaron stopped Neil from continuing on down the hall. He just stared at Neil for a long moment and then shook his head and pulled Nicky and Kevin into their dorm. Neil went to Renee but listened for the door as it opened and shut behind him. 

“Where’s Andrew?” Renee asked. 

“He took the stairs,” Neil said. 

“Ah, I'll go check on him then.” She made for the stairs. 

Neil went directly into the girl’s dorm and took a second to observe. 

“How the hell was he laughing?” Allison asked, not looking at the door. 

Neil immediately understood what he had walked into. “Because he’s drugged out of his mind,” Neil answered. “Are you actually that dense or just willfully stupid when it comes to Andrew? He laughs at everything because he’s on court ordered medication and cannot help himself.” 

“Where is everyone?” Matt asked when Allison just stood there blank. 

“Nicky’s talking to Eric, Aaron’s watching him and Kevin. Renee went to check on Andrew,” Neil reported. 

“Are you okay?” Matt asked. 

“It’s gonna take a lot more than one punch to kill me,” Neil told him. 

The door opened and Renee slipped inside, “Andrew’s taking some time,” she told them. 

As long as someone knew where he was, Neil thought. 

“It had to be the Ravens,” Seth said. “There was only one way for that guy to get to the otherside of the country when he wasn’t supposed to leave the state. It was Riko.” 

“Is he gonna send everyone’s demons back at them?” Matt asked. 

At the very least, Tilda was already dead, so Aaron would be fine. 

“Riko only has so many moves he can make,” Renee said quietly. “Even with his amount of resources, he’s the second son and everything he’s done so far has made a lot of noise.” 

Neil considered telling them that if anyone came looking for him they should throw Neil under the bus and run in the opposite direction. But Neil knew they wouldn’t give him the answer he wanted. 

“I’m gonna--” Neil made a vague gesture and left the room. He went into his dorm and grabbed his desk chair and dragged it out into the hall. He positioned it so he could watch the elevators and the stairwell and still keep an eye on the hall itself. 

He sat down and put his hand in his sweatshirt pocket. Held the knife. 

Even for eating purposes Neil typically tried to not hold the knife too much. It instantly brought on a wave of things he did not want to think about. But Neil was still in that shifty space of adrenaline were bad ideas seemed good if they worked. They were in an emergency situation and the math turned out to be incredibly simple. 

Neil sat in the hallway swallowing his own blood in silence until the elevator doors opened and Wymack, Abby, and Dan walked out with bags of take-out in hand. Dan nodded at Neil as she went past, going directly into her dorm. Wymack slowed long enough to shake his head at the sight of Neil posted in the hallway before following Dan. Abby set down her bag, opened up a portable first aid kit she had brought with her. 

Neil let Abby fix his face, mostly because the taste and smell of his own blood wasn’t exactly helping him maintain his grip on reality. It was leaving him splintered across the world, flinching at memories, his hand tensing and untensing in his sweatshirt pocket. 

Neil doesn’t remember the first time he held the knife. He doesn’t remember how he got his first scar, or his second, or his third. The earliest thing he can remember is blood and a well-lit basement. 

Neil had once sworn to never touch another knife and his mother had slapped him upside the head and told him, “people who are safe get the luxury of choice.” If a situation demanded it, if there was nothing else left, he was to take a knife. 

He let go of it while Abby cleaned his face though, Neil sat on his hands and waited for her to finish putting ointment on his lip. He didn’t want to hurt her. 

Abby sighed, stood up straight, and asked, “I don’t suppose I can get you to come in for food?” 

“I’m not hungry,” Neil told her. 

“Someone will bring you out a plate,” she told him. “I  imagine you’ve been through some scary stuff Neil, but don’t think that you have to take on the world by yourself. You’ve got a whole team with you.” 

And that was the truth of it, wasn’t it? Neil had a whole team to lose and nothing of himself that would survive. He nodded, so Abby would leave, but then he wrapped his fingers back around the knife in his pocket. 

Renee brought him a plate of food, she leaned against the wall across from him and then slid down until she was seated. 

“You can have the chair?” Neil offered. 

She played with the cross hanging around her neck, shook her head. They sat in silence for a long while. Neil ate his food and put the empty plate under the desk chair. Betsy Dobson came up the emergency staircase, sticking her head out for a brief wave before continuing up. 

Andrew must be somewhere upstairs and Betsy could only know from Andrew or Renee, so it was probably fine. 

“Andrew told me he lent you one of our knives,” Renee broke the silence. 

“Our?” Neil asked. 

“They were mine first,” Renee said, each word was careful, as she explained the gang she had joined as a child. The man she had killed, the one that the dipshit with the gun had been trying to avenge. How she had carried the knives as a reminder until Andrew took them. “Andrew told me that you disarmed him once?” She phrased it like a question, Neil wasn’t sure what she wanted to know.

He tapped a finger against the flat of the blade and thought. “I did,” Neil answered. “I know how to use a knife, I just don’t particularly like it.” A war was waged in his mind of his damnable urge to be honest and the compulsion to lie or joke or shut up until she went away. “I know exactly what a knife can do and I don’t want to be that person.” He admitted. “I don’t want to be…” He stopped and looked at Renee as he realized he’d been avoiding her eyes. “I know real monsters, Renee, and I’ve done a lot to avoid becoming one.” Dying was a lot. It was as far from his father and his circle as Neil could get. 

Funny, that was, that he’d finally escape them only once they already had him. It’d be worth it, to finally be free.

“You can give the knife back to me,” Renee offered. 

“I’ll hang on to it for tonight,” Neil declined. He wanted to explain that it didn’t matter what he became now, because soon he’d be dead. That as scared of the knife as he was, he was more scared of watching the Foxes get hurt. But he didn’t want her to be worried. “This is a different situation.” Is what he said. 

Renee looked at him as if she knew that he was full of shit, but she didn’t say it out loud. And Neil appreciated that. 

Wymack left the girls' dorm on his phone. He paced a bit on the other end of the hallway, just out of earshot and then he hung up, shoved the phone in his pocket and came to where Neil and Renee were sat. 

“The police have him in custody, it looks like he’s getting shipped back to Oakland, in a few days. Right now he’s not leaving the station, so you two can go sit inside and get some rest.” 

“I’m good here, Coach.” Neil said. 

“Josten--”

“No, I glued myself to this seat, I physically can’t get up.” 

Wymack turned to Renee. 

“I’m keeping him company while we wait for the glue to unstick,” Renee said. 

Wymack gave up on them, “where’s the rest of the team?” he asked. 

“Kevin, Aaron, and Nicky are in their dorm. Andrew’s with Dobson.” Neil reported. 

Wymack went and knocked on the cousins door and went in to tell them. 

Neil and Renee both sat up straight as they heard footsteps coming down the stairs. It was just Dobson. She smiled at the both of them, “And how are you two holding up?” She asked. 

“I am well, Betsy,” Renee answered. 

Dobson hummed and then looked at Neil, waiting a beat before powering on when Neil didn’t answer. “Andrew asked me to tell you to go upstairs, all the way up. Last door.” She waited for Neil to nod and then made her way to the girl’s dorm. 

Neil stood up and looked at Renee. And then he held the knife out, handle first. She took it from him with a nod. Neil went to the stairwell and started up the stairs. 

All the way up. He came to a door with “No Access” written across it and a broken lock. Neil opened the door onto the roof, where Andrew was sat by the edge smoking.

Neil just stared for a second. How many nights had Neil spent out behind the dorms in the grass where Andrew had been up here, looking over the parking lot? 

“I will only push you over if you say something stupid,” Andrew said, not turning to look at Neil. 

“Well, that’s a guarantee,” Neil said. He shut the door behind him and crossed the roof, leaning over to look at the drop. “I’ll only die if I fall wrong, so we’ll both just get injured for nothing.” 

“Both?” Andrew asked. 

Neil sat down next to him. “I’d drag you down with me.” 

“Just ask,” Andrew said after taking a drag of his cigarette. 

“Yeah, sure,” Neil agreed. “Can I have a cigarette?” He asked. 

Andrew looked like he was gonna shove Neil off the roof. 

“If you tell me, I’ll listen. If you want it to be a part of our honesty game so I have to say something too, that’s fine. I’ll tell you whatever. But I’m not going to ask.” 

“I want nothing,” Andrew said. 

“I will jump off this roof,” Neil warned. 

“Why?” 

“Because of you and your dramatic ass semantics--” 

“No, not that.” Andrew interrupted. 

“Because some guy from your past showed up today and you’re probably going to have to stab one of the others to get them to stop asking. Also the team designated head-poker was just here so I’m sure you’ve been asked enough questions already.” 

“Ask anyway,” Andrew said. 

There were a lot of things Neil could have asked, enough specific questions to last hours. But Neil still thought that it was unfair to make Andrew explain his past, especially when Neil never fully explained his own. So, Neil went with one that he thought Andrew could deflect easily enough. “Why did you go to Juvie?” Neil asked. 

It could be answered with just the crime, what he did to get thrown in. But if Andrew was serious about telling Neil, for whatever reason, Neil had a hunch that whatever went down in Andrew’s last foster home had a lot to do with Juvie. 

And Neil was right. 

“Cass Spear was going to adopt me,” was how Andrew started the story. “Drake was going to defer his enlistment,” was when Neil’s fingernails started to dig into his palms. “I broke into a candy shop and waited for the cops,” was the actual answer to Neil’s question. “Aaron was covered in bruises and high on something,” was around when Neil realized fully that Andrew never thought about himself. “Luther promised he’d talk to social services if I got early parole,” was where the story ended. 

Juvie for Aaron, medication for Nicky, the Moryiama’s for Kevin. Neil couldn’t imagine risking that much for others, not back when he was still trying to live. 

“No smart commentary?” Andrew asked, after Neil didn’t say anything. 

“Wymack said he’s in police custody,” is all Neil could say. 

“Why,” Andrew asked after a minute, “why did you interfere?” 

“I’m already dead,” Neil shrugged. He took a second to decide how much to say. “Before I came here all I wanted was to live, desperately.” Neil shut his eyes. “Everything I did was to survive to the next day and I didn’t care about the consequences. Not really. Not unless they were going to blow my cover or get me injured. When I came here I gave up.” He looks at Andrew. “So it doesn’t matter if I interfere, if I get involved in things. The worst that can happen is I die sooner.” 

Andrew blew smoke in his face. “Punching Drake is one thing, what did you say to the Foxes?” He asked. 

“What?” Neil was thrown. 

“The busy-bodies downstairs called Bee and told her they wanted to petition the court for my early sobriety.” 

“Huh.” 

“Don’t pretend to be surprised.” 

“I am surprised, I never thought they’d be that self aware, I just pointed out the obvious.” 

“The obvious?” Andrew asked and warned in the same breath. 

“That you are drugged out of your mind.” Neil answered honestly. 

“I hate you,” Andrew said. 

“Okay. When would you go to rehab?” Neil asked. 

“Bee said as soon as possible, which I will never agree to.” 

“Andrew,” Neil could afford to be self-sacrificing, it didn't mean anything. Andrew needed to take care of himself for once. “Go to rehab, I will mind your family.” 

“And why would you do that?’ 

“We both know I will anyway.” 

“And I should just trust that, Mr I Will Cause No Problems.” Andrew gestured to Neil’s face. 

“What problem--” Neil cut himself off, it was fair enough. “Fine, what can I give you to get you to believe me?” 

“Who are you, really?” 

“No one,” Neil sighed. “I’m not being cagey. I’ve had twenty-two different identities in the last eight years but there’s no one… There isn’t a real person underneath.” 

“So, Neil Josten is just a cover?”

That was true once, but not anymore. “Neil Josten is what’s left.” 

“There’s an awful lot of you to just be scraps.” Andrew observed. “Then give me the truest name.” 

There was only one more honest than Neil. “Abram.” Neil said. “It was my middle name,” honesty, honesty. “You can leave middle names off of paperwork and no one blinks, so it’s the only name that's stayed. I didn’t like my original first name anyways and neither did my mother so that’s what she called me.” 

Andrew looked at Neil as he came to a decision. Neil kept his gaze. Finally, Andrew started to speak, “if anything happens to them--” 

Neil woke up early the day after he got back to Palmetto. He took out his binder and spent three hours carefully decoding and copying down the locations of everything him and his mother had stashed away. He used nice clear penmanship and simple words, he debated going to a store and getting crayons to really make sure whatever Moriyama lackey that came to collect could understand but decided that would be too much effort. 

He also decided that whatever cash and bonds he had left could stay where they were. It was too much carry around at all times. It could go to whoever managed to get it open after he died. 

Matt left his room towards the end of the process, dressed and ready to go pick up the girls and Seth from the airport. “What are you doing?” He asked. 

“Sudoku,” Neil said. 

“Uh huh.”

“If you look it at, you might die,” Neil tried again. 

Matt threw up his hands and left the dorm. 

Neil finished up his directions and folded the paper up, he’d keep it in his wallet until whoever it was showed up. The idea was to minimize the amount of time it would take, which would--hopefully--minimize the risk the Foxes were put at. If he died, he died, but he would do everything in his power to make sure the Foxes were fine. 

Neil packed up the presents for everyone else back into the suitcase he’d bought to bring them back from New York, snagged his coat, pulled on his orange beanie and went next door. He knocked until Nicky opened it. 

“Hey Neil?” Nicky greeted.

Neil ducked around him and entered the dorm. “Does anyone know a good dry cleaners in the area?” He posed to the room, holding up his coat.

“How has Reynold’s not drawn and quartered you?” Andrew asked. Probably referring to the bright pink shirt Neil was wearing covered in neon swirls and planets although it could have just been Neil’s presence alone.

“She has no follow through. Dry cleaners?” He asked again.  

“Yeah, it’s over on--” Nicky started to answer. 

“Shh, Nicky,” Andrew said. “Not for free.” 

“Of course,” Neil agreed. “And what would you like in payment for this piece of clearly priceless information.” 

“Why do you even need the dry cleaners, Nicky gave you that a week ago?” Aaron asked. “Do you just exude filth?” 

“It saw a crime,” Neil answered. “Price?” He asked Andrew. 

“Come to Columbia this weekend,” Andrew said. 

Scheming motherfucker, Neil could just wait and ask literally anyone else. Andrew had to know that, which made this an actual request not clever blackmail. Neil doesn’t know how to feel about that, about any of it. Especially about Andrew asking. Are they actually friends? 

Neil was going to say yes, that wasn’t even a question. Not anymore, at some point during the year without his notice Neil had apparently become incredibly agreeable when it came to certain things. He’d gone from hissing and foaming at the mouth at the idea of someone clawing an inch out of his grip to just handing over miles with nothing but a snappy comment. 

“Sure, I’ll come to your evil lair for the weekend. What an equal and understandable price for the dry cleaners.” At least he still had the snappy comments, they’d never take those away from him.

“Don’t you mean his reasonable and straightforward lair?” Nicky asked with far too much glee. 

Neil turned to Nicky and just looked at him. 

“Jesus Christ,” Nicky swore. “God forbid anyone else pay attention. I’m sorry, don’t kill me.” 

Andrew shook his car keys and left the room. Neil stared after him for a moment. 

“Was that supposed to mean something?” Neil asked. 

“It means he’s gonna fucking leave us here if we’re not in the car in five minutes,” Aaron groaned getting up to yank on his shoes. 

“Cool, Kevin grab your presents.” Neil said. 

Kevin complained but listened. 

“You know you didn’t have to say yes, right?” Nicky asked. “You don’t even like Eden’s.” 

“I don’t have to do anything,”  Neil said. “We’re well past my first trip to Eden’s, I know it’ll be fine this time.” He found he didn’t mind spending the weekend with them. With Andrew. He only had so many weekends left, possibly even just this one. He had to have every second with the Foxes he could, it’d give him something nice to think about while he slowly bled out. 

Andrew was already in the drivers seat when they all got out. Neil and Kevin put the bags of gifts into the trunk and then Kevin got in the passenger seat and Neil climbed into the back with Aaron and Nicky. 

Yes, he could think of the Foxes while he slowly bled out or in that split second between a trigger, a bullet, and the back of his head. 

Andrew drove them all to the dry cleaners, just outside of campus. Neil dropped off his coat and then tried to get back into the car. 

Kevin, in the three minutes it had taken Neil to hand over his coat and pay the attendant in the dry cleaners, had been banished to the backseat. 

“Wonders never cease,” Neil mused as he shut the backseat door on a grumpy Kevin and got into the passenger seat. “Am I the least irritating today?” He asked Andrew. 

Andrew turned the volume on the radio all the way up to drown him out. But it was totally worth the headache Neil immediately started to get.

What if Ichirou decided Riko wasn’t out of order? What if all of Riko’s shit has been acceptable disgraced mob son shit and the punishment is worse than Neil’s execution? 

Andrew pulled into the court and the music finally stopped. They all headed in. 

Wymack took one look at Neil and Kevin’s extra bags and went “You idiots moving somewhere?” 

“No, Coach, I’ve decided to take up the spirit of Christmas,” Neil said. He put down the suitcase and unzipped it, tossed Coach’s present at him. “Ho, ho, ho.”

That last line was actually an extra present for Nicky who promptly fucking lost it. 

What if the money wasn’t there? What if it wasn’t enough? What if Ichirou sent Lola to collect?

Coach barely managed to maintain his grip on his present, which was good as the yellow mug was highly breakable. Coach unwrapped it and looked down at the black text reading ‘I am a fucking ray of sunshine,’ and sighed deeply. “Thank you,” he said gruffly. 

Neil pulled out the one for Abby but waited with a pointed look at Kevin until Kevin handed over his gift for Coach. CDS from some band called Creed. 

Neil nodded in satisfaction at the complicated look on Wymack’s face as he went to find Abby and deliver her present of a black mug reading ‘BOSS,’ in all caps. 

“Oh, Neil,” she said in an emotional voice that had Neil immediately turning around to go sit in the lounge. Him and his headache could only take so much. 

And what if Neil’s gamble paid off? What if some douche in a suit showed up, took the paper and Riko was leashed and time just kept ticking? What then? What if it was enough money? It’s not like it would really buy him more time. His clock was still ticking down in federal prison just waiting to get out and hit zero. 

The rest of the team arrived. Matt, Dan, Seth, Allison, and Renee all in one piece and good spirits as they greeted Wymack and Abby. Seth tipped an imaginary hat to Andrew and went “Sheriff,” in a greeting tone. As everyone went to sit down.

Andrew neither reacted nor responded but Allison immediately pulled out her wallet and handed Seth a hundred dollar bill. 

Dan rolled her eyes and then turned to Neil. “Neil, could you maybe explain what the hell happened in New York. Matt kept sending us concerning but incomprehensible text messages.” 

“They were not incomprehensible!” Matt complained. 

“You sent us three separate ‘Neil’s not dead,’ messages with no context!” Dan said. 

“Well, he wasn’t wrong,” Neil said. “I’m fine.” It would probably take at least a week or two to track down all the money if Ichirou went moderately carefully, if he didn’t give a fuck then maybe a day or two. If he was extra cautious it might be a month. They could be well into February before Neil knew if all the money was where it should be and if it were enough. 

“Pay up,” Allison held out her hand and Seth handed back over the hundred dollar bill. 

Wymack pinched the skin between his eyebrows. “Do I want to know?” He asked.

“I don’t particularly want to explain,” Neil answered. “But to put it simply: I got knifed a little and wandered into a spotty business meeting on New Years, but I’m fine.” Fine apart from the usual lack of control he had over everything. 

“Knifed a little?” Dan asked in a high pitch. “You got knifed. A little?” 

“Riko stabbed him,” Aaron so helpfully corrected. 

“Okay, he did not stab me. What is it with you people saying he stabbed me? He cut me a little, a stabbing might have actually required stitches.” 

“No stitches,” Abby said. “You also probably didn’t see a medical professional did you?” 

“I didn’t need stitches, you might be a medical professional but I’m the being stabbed and/or cut professional, okay?” It was already mostly healed, he was fine. 

“Not okay,” Dan said. “Deeply, deeply concerning.”

“Do I dare ask what fresh hell you meant by ‘wandered into a spotty business meeting?’” Wymack asked. 

“My favorite pizza place is a front for the Moriyamas!” Matt explained, poorly. 

“What?!” Five separate people yelled. Not doing wonders for the headache.

“It’s a front for someone,” Neil elaborated. “But New York’s a centerpoint for trade, business, and travel. Every mob has a guy in New York.” If Ichirou came himself Neil could try to get control. Buy a gun before the meeting or just take one off whoever was there again. Bad plan, horrendous plan, strong chance of mob war with a side of everyone Neil has come to care about dying horrifically. 

“Are you a mob guy?” Seth asked. 

Neil was not answering that. “Oh, look, presents.” Neil started pulling them out and throwing them at the Foxes who hadn't gotten them yet. He had to stay calm, had to move slowly, the fact that Ichirou hadn’t killed him on New Years already meant he was ahead of expectation. 

“This has got to be your worst deflection yet,” Aaron said. 

“I don’t give a shit, you’re all giving me a migraine. Merry Christmas, leave me alone.” 

Allison inspected the little package of wrapping paper and peeled hers open first. Revealing the white pair of heart shaped sunglasses. She looked at them, then squinted at the side. “These are like three hundred dollar sunglasses, how the fuck did you afford them?” She asked. 

“MOB GUY,” Seth yelled with an accusatory finger. 

“Seth, he just said he had a headache,” Dan said, blissfully quiet. She opened her own gift and looked at the scarf Neil had found for her. It was the softest one, it had taken him the longest to pick that one out because he wanted to be sure it outranked every other scarf, including the one he’d bought Randy. “Thank you, Neil,” she said with a smile. 

He had this right now. A migraine, a group of friends, a place to sleep, and the ability to play Exy. Until the Moriyama’s came to call he had to focus on that. 

Renee opened her present and found a fuzzy orange sweater that matched the streaks in her hair. She smiled too. 

Seth opened his and found a cowboy hat and immediately started shaking from laughter. He put it on and tipped it for real to Andrew, “Sheriff,” he said again. 

Allison handed him back the hundred dollar bill. 

“Oh, yeehaw,” Nicky said. 

Seth tipped his hat to Nicky. 

“Neil,” Wymack said. “Are you going to elaborate on the consequences of you meeting the main branch?” 

“No, I don’t think I will,” Neil said, leaning back in his chair and putting his arm over his eyes to block the light. He was done thinking about the consequences, one several hour long morning freak out was enough.

“Do you want pain meds?” Abby asked. 

“Yes,” Neil admitted after a moment. 

A long, coward-what-would-mary-say-she’s-dead-dumbass-moment. Because of course the second Neil decided to be done with one episode his bullshit brain had to give him another.

And Coach was still staring at him with an impatient look.

“I implied that Riko needed to be put down like a sick dog or something, I don’t know, Coach, I was having a night. There really shouldn’t be any consequences, assuming Ichirou has eyes. Kevin, hand out your presents.” Close enough to the truth that no one could really argue, leaving out the little extra bits he’d told Kevin and Andrew. 

Abby gave him pain meds and a glass of water and Neil, for once in his life, took them without complaint. 

“You worry me kid,” Wymack said. 

Neil gave him a thumbs up. 

“Kevin got us presents?” Seth asked. “Fuck, am I slacking? Was this a striker line thing?” 

“You’re slacking,” Allison said. 

“This was a Neil thing, he dragged me into it for reasons beyond me,” Kevin said as he handed out presents to the upperclassmen. Who seemed more bemused than believing of Kevin’s deflection. 

A fancy edition of The Art of War for Dan, who grinned at the title.  

Diamond earrings for Allison, who begrudgingly admitted they were wearable. 

A charm bracelet with an exy racquet and a cross on it for Renee, who smiled and thanked Kevin softly. 

Some romance novel for Abby, that Kevin had told Neil was by her favorite author. Who reacted accordingly. 

And for Seth a lava lamp, which was the product of an overly intricate inside joke that Neil had been present for but still didn’t understand. “You sick son of a bitch,” Seth said as he opened it. 

And as promised a book about haunted buildings in New York for Andrew. Who unwrapped the present in silence and then put it down next to him without a word. 

“Damn, the monster really is a whole new creep now, huh?” Seth mused. 

“Seth,” Renee admonished. 

“Yeah, sorry, Sheriff Monster,” Seth corrected, tipping his hat once again. 

Allison cackled. 

The headache caused by the car radio had vanished as the pain meds kicked in. Only for the noise of everyone’s tilted mirror view of Andrew to rear it’s loudass head. “I bet Andrew hasn’t even skinned anyone alive, he’s hardly a monster.” 

The noise died a beautiful death, instantly choking out into dust. Matt exchanged pointed looks with the other upperclassmen, who all seemed crossed between concerned and disturbed. Except for Renee who’s face remained serene. Nicky looked vaguely ill, Kevin looked very ill, and Andrew’s new impassive look seemed there to stay. 

Wymack and Abby both looked like they thought it might be a poor joke.

“Neil,” Aaron asked, strained, breaking the silence. “Have you skinned someone alive?” 

Bold, yet called for. “No, of course not.” Neil said, waited for the sighs of relief before continuing. “I just watched as someone else did, it’s actually really difficult, you have to go excruciatingly slow or else they die of shock.” 

“Mob guy,” Seth repeated in a whisper.

“Please tell me you’re fucking with us?” Dan asked.

“Keep the murder confessions where I can’t hear them,” Coach said before immediately pivoting into the information they actually needed for the season. 

Texas, Belmonte, Arkansas. Technically only two of them really stood inbetween the Foxes and the death matches. Perfectly named. Blah blah “How stabbed are you? Nevermind, you’re seeing Abby or you're benched.” blah blah blah. “Andrew, how behind are you?” 

Noise died a second time as everyone looked at Andrew. 

“I improvised,” Andrew said in his new measured voice. 

“Uncanny,” Seth whistled. 

“I bet he laughs the first time Nicky trips over something,” Allison said. “This whole I am stone thing will crumble at the first instance of slapstick violence.”

Neil reached down on the floor for a ball of crumpled up wrapping paper and threw it at her. 

Matt made a sharp coughing noise.

Coach loudly continued on about morning practices, meetings with Betsy Dobson, and useless reminders to stay safe. Abby left when he started to go pick up lunch. By the time he was done she was back, food in hand. 

Everyone chatted mindlessly about winter break as they ate. Everyone finished and Neil tried to use the chaos of everyone getting up to escape before Abby could get him. But she was waiting by the door with a stern look on her face. 

“Come on, just let me look at it and make sure. For my own peace of mind.” 

“Fine,” Neil gestured to her office. He followed her in and hopped up on the bed. He tugged his shirt up enough that she could see the healing wounds. Abby put on gloves and then looked them over. 

“Okay,” she said. “They are healing good.” 

“I told you I was fine.” 

“Neil,” she sighed, pulling off her gloves. “It’s not that I think you’re incapable. You’re an adult, you’ve made it almost twenty years without dying. I know you can take care of yourself. But you don’t have to, that’s why I’m here. Okay? It’s my job to give you ibuprofen and look at your injuries. There are little details that can be missed, especially when the brain is distracted with pain or stressful situations. And those little details are the difference between an injury you feel ten years later and one you forget about.” 

“Abby,” Neil stopped her. “Thank you, but I’m fine.” 

She sighed again and let him leave. 

Neil slipped out of the room only to find Dan waiting for him. It never ends.

“Hey, can we have a chat?” She asked. 

“Is it about anything I said today?” 

“If I say yes will you leave?” 

“Yes.”

“Then no,” Dan sighed. “I wanted your advice on something.” 

“Fine.” 

She pulled him towards the photo corner and waited until everyone left. Matt and Allison cut off whatever conversation they were in to grab the last bits of trash and leave. 

“As you have barred me from asking or saying anything about whatever is going on with you, i.e. are you okay? Should I be worried? Will you let me know if you need help with anything or hiding any bodies?” Dan paused there as if Neil was going to answer. “Instead, could you give me some advice on talking to Andrew? I want to make sure he’s okay and find out if I should be worried, help, bodies, etcetera.”

Many, many curse words and various levels of screaming passed through Neil’s mind. “Talk. To. Him. Dan, I can’t say this enough. If you just go to him and meet him where he’s at, he will probably answer you. He respects you, it’s not that complicated.” 

“He respects me?” She looked so surprised. 

“If he didn’t he would never talk to you at all.”  

“Huh,” one arm crossed her body and the other came up to her chin in a move Wymack did eight times a day. “What do you mean by where he’s at? Look, I know I’m biased, I know my vision on him is skewed and it shouldn’t be. Help me out here and I will work on it.” 

How is Neil the authority when he’s only known Andrew for eight months? Jesus Christ, eight months. He’s been in Palmetto with these people for eight months. 

“I’ll give you some practice right now. Andrew doesn’t do things for free, you want me to explain ‘where he’s at,’ then I need a favor from you.” 

“Okay.” 

“In a few days Kevin is going to come to you, probably very drunk. To tell you something that is probably going to upset you. I just need you to remember that he grew up with only Tetsuji and Riko for company before you respond.”

“Every single word made every previous word worse, the whole time through. I’d be impressed if I wasn’t scared.” 

“Will you do it?” 

“Will I remember that Kevin is not just an asshole but a traumatized one? Probably.” 

“Good enough, look literally just ask. Be ready to barter and for a no. It’s,” Neil tried to quantify it better than he had the last time he had this conversation. Because this was apparently a conversation he would keep having. “Andrew is overfamiliar with consequences, he thinks things through, it’s easier if the terms are clear. And at this point he’s probably expecting you to misunderstand or just not care about what he’s actually saying. The way you all operate is on a fundamentally different level, it’s not bad or good it’s just different. I can talk to Andrew because I understand him. And because I know when to leave him alone. Don’t make it about feelings, just figure out what it is you want from him and ask for that.”

“I don’t want anything from him?” 

“You do,” Neil corrected. “You want him to talk to you, or to act like a member of the team. Or let you help so you can feel like a good captain. It might be in his best interest but it’s still something you want from him.” 

“That’s a very transactional way of putting it.”  

“The entire world operates on transactions. It might be nicer to pretend it doesn’t but it does. Everyone wants something from everyone else. Some people don’t care or aren’t expecting too much so they can write all the blank checks they want. Others need every little piece of fine print before they agree.” 

Dan stared past Neil at the photos behind him. And then slowly, she nodded. Neil hoped she actually understood. 

“Thank you,” she said, the corner of her mouth peeked up a bit after a moment. “You know, whatever's going on with you that you don’t want to talk about. Whatever happened to you before we met. I’m happy you joined us, that you’re alive to be here.” 

No one had ever said that to Neil before, even if they had he never would have believed them. 

He believed Dan.

Dan smiled and ruffled Neil’s hair and left him standing there. 

He turned around to look at the photos on the wall and study them for a moment. Pictures of people he never met. Pictures of the only people he’d ever care about other than his mother. Standing for group shots with neutral to happy expressions. Candids of them in mid conversation or laugh. Neil was there, more than he thought. Him sitting on the couch with Andrew and Renee when Aaron and Nicky made cocktails. Him covered in temporary tattoos from before the Raven’s game. Him at Halloween in his costume, a ghost. 

He was here and after he was gone these photos would stay. Even if the Foxes forgot him there’d still be little proof of the existence of Neil Josten. Photos and articles and a place where he used to be. But one day the photos would come off the wall and that would be it.

Neil was halfway back to the dorms, the cold January air wrapped around him when Katelyn found him and joined him stride for stride. 

“Hey asshole!” She greeted. “I’m glad you like the hat.” 

“Thank you,” Neil had manners on occasion. “Why are you here?” 

“Mostly to make sure Aaron wasn’t lying when he said you were alive.” 

“Well, look at me breathing,” he demonstrated. It felt like a lie.

“You know what else Aaron told me?” She asked with an obnoxious grin and a literal skip in her step.  

“Lies and slander.” 

“That you said we were friends.”

“Like I said. Lies and slander.” 

“No, takesies backsies. You said it. We’re making friendship bracelets, we’re gonna have a sleepover and paint each other's nails and talk about, well traditionally it’s boys but we can stick to exy.” 

“Are those all actually things?” 

“Yeah, in like middle school,” Katelyn turned around and started walking backwards so she could face Neil. “Would you like the middle school bestie experience? It’s formative.” 

“What like now?” It was the middle of the day for one. 

Katelyn stopped moving. She blinked slowly. “You know what, I was joking but yes. Let’s have a sleepover.” 

It was either that or sit in bed and wonder if he was already dead. “Sure.” 

“Okay, we gotta go get snacks and matching pajamas.” 

“Matching pajamas?” 

“Yeah, I can tell this is your first sleepover. It’s important we pull out all the stops.”  

“You can tell?” Of course she could tell, he asked if they were real. Which was idiotic, Neil had observed many kids over the years organizing sleepovers that he wouldn’t have been able to go to even if he had been invited. Of course they existed.

“It happens,” Katelyn shrugged. “Marissa had never had one before either, or Aaron for that matter. Not proper ones. It’s never too late.” 

“Marissa?” 

“Guess.” 

“Cheerleader.” There were so many of them and Neil did not care at all about keeping them straight in his head. 

“Yes, what else.” 

Was this cheerleader important? “International assassin.” 

“My roommate,” Katelyn laughed. 

“Right.” 

“It’s okay, I know you don’t care.” 

“Should I?” 

Katelyn hummed. “Do you care about me?” She asked. 

She did it in a light curious voice, it was genuine but not overly serious. It didn’t feel like a trap. 

“I do,” Neil answered honestly. She was the only non-Fox that made that list. She tried really hard at everything, she was weirdly understanding and violent for a person so normal. She was also a little too ruthless and obsessed with Aaron to be normal. Neil was still more than a little light on the details of friendship but he figured Katelyn was a good one to have. 

“I care about you too,” Katelyn said first. “And Marissa, but you don’t need to care about her.” 

“Good, I’m not going to.” 

They went into a department store and got popcorn and matching flannel pajamas. 

Katelyn swung open the door to her dorm and low and behold. Marissa, real person, sitting on the couch. Neil watched the two of them talk fast, using a lot of words incorrectly, before Marissa blew a kiss to Katelyn and then left with a wave.

Katelyn made Neil help drag an absurd number of blankets and pillows into the living room. As the first rule of Katelyn’s Epic Sleepovers was bed’s are lame. The next was get into pajamas which seemed like less of a rule and more of an order. But clearly Neil was not the expert.

She put on low inoffensive music and pulled out a box full of nail polish. “I think Jessica swiped my embroidery thread.”

“That bitch?” 

“It’s what we were going to use for friendship bracelets.” She pulled out a bottle of purple liquid, poured it on a paper towel and then started stripping the white from her nails. 

“That bitch,” Neil did not care. 

“It’s a tragedy, what color do you want your nails to be?” 

“Why do you have so many?” There were more bottles of nail polish then there were blankets and that was saying something. 

“So, I can match my nails to my outfits.” 

“That’s inane.” 

“Neil, you dress like you ate a bag of skittles, rolled around to make sure they got shuffled around, and then threw up all over yourself.” 

“You know Allison might think you and Aaron are together because you’re both secretly violent but it’s actually because you’re both huge dicks.”

Katelyn giggled. “When we met, I was stress crying in the library. Aaron sat down next to me, realized I was crying and told me I was ‘making the room humid.’ It was so rude I actually stopped crying from the audacity.” 

Neil shook his head and started pulling out random colors, he stopped when he had ten. 

“Really?” Katelyn asked. 

“I like looking like thrown up skittles.” 

She shrugged, put down the paper towel and held out her hands, gestured for Neil to hand one of his over. 

Neil slowly held out his right hand. Took it without a word and looked at his nails. She wasn’t rough or gentle, just there. She picked up another paper towel and cleaned his nails, filing them down, putting weird little fluids on them just to wipe them off. Then she took out a block of foam for some reason. 

“I feel like you’re just making shit up to do to fuck with me,” Neil said. 

“This is all really basic nail care stuff.” 

“There is no way.” 

She shook her head, “let me give you nice skittle nails and I’ll let you talk about Exy.” 

“What am I just going to start listing stats?” 

“I don’t know, are you?” She reached for his left hand and started the whole process again on that one. 

“Why do you put up with Aaron’s whole thing,” Neil gestured with his free hand. 

“Holy shit? You’re picking talk about boys?” 

“The U.S. Court--”

“No, no, I’m sorry! It’s not really putting up, although I understand why people think that.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“Once we got to know each other better and I realized I like him,” Katelyn kept her eyes on Neil’s hand as she went through the gauntlet of nail care products. “Like not just found him hot but liked his drive and ambition and how funny he is when he’s mad. I’m never going to meet anyone else like Aaron Minyard, I don’t want anyone else. So, it’s all worth it and just part of it. I don’t know, I want to be with him now when we have to meet at the library and we can’t tell anyone we’re together. I want to be with him while he figures it out with his brother, however messy it gets. I want to be with him when I’m old and decrepit and can’t remember how we met. I just want him.” 

“I see,” Neil said when it seemed she was done. 

Katelyn put down his hand to pick up the first bottle of muted green nail polish. “Do you?” She asked. “I figured the whole romance thing was a bit alien to you.” 

“I don’t know about romance,” Neil agreed. “But I understand committing hard to a choice.” 

Katelyn smiled and then moved onto the next color. She painted carefully in thin layers over each of Neil’s nails and then went back over for a second and then third coats. She picked up a bottle of clear polish from the box and then put that on Neil’s nails too. 

While his hands dried Katelyn went through the complicated nail care process on her own hands and then she picked out a light pink and handed the bottle to Neil. Who looked at it with a vague sense of dread. 

“I’m doing this?” Neil asked.

“Yup, painting each other’s nails, don’t worry too much I can clean it up later.” 

Neil opened the bottle and tried to copy the way Katelyn had dragged the brush along the edge as she pulled it out. Then he took Katelyn’s hand and at a snail’s pace brought the brush across her thumb. It took him way longer to paint Katelyn’s nails, for whatever reason it felt serious. But by the end she had pink nails that only spilled a little onto her fingers. And Neil had ten clashing colors on his. 

Then Katelyn declared her solemn mission to find a movie Neil liked. Four movies later she ordered Chinese food and at the very least Neil saw the appeal of having something to focus on that was distracting and had nothing to do with his impending demise or all of the Foxes issues. Especially with Katelyn’s running commentary on what things were actual social conventions and what was just for the drama. 

 And then his phone started vibrating. It had been on silent for months but phone calls made the whole box shake.

Katelyn paused Who Framed Roger Rabbit and Neil sighed as he looked at Kevin’s name on the caller ID. 

“I’m busy,” he said the second he answered. 

“With what? We have practice, we’re already at the court.” 

“I’m at a sleepover.”

Katelyn raised an eyebrow. 

Neil mouthed ‘Kevin.’ 

She nodded. 

“Be serious, we need to practice. You had all of christmas break for your bullshit, it’s time to get back to work.” 

“No, I’m at a sleepover.” 

“With who?” 

“Katelyn.”

“Stop stealing Aaron’s girlfriend and come play exy with me.”

“Okay, first of all. We are friends, sleepovers are a friends thing. Secondly, no.”

“Stop being a child! You gave your game to me--”

“Yeah and you can have it back tomorrow. Go have fun with Seth, I’m busy.” 

“I am going to beat the everloving--”

“No, you’re going to go play Exy with Seth, complain to Andrew, and figure out when you’re talking to Dan.” 

“I’m not talking to Dan.” 

“Fine Kevin,” Neil looked over at Katelyn and then switched to French. “Keep your father a secret forever, deny me my dying wish of you not completely fucking up your own life. What do I care? I’ll be dead.” 

“You are the worst person I know.” 

“What a singular and alienating opinion that is.” Neil hung up.

“Did you have plans?” Katelyn asked. 

“We usually have a late practice, but he’ll survive without me there.” 

Katelyn nodded, picked up the remote, held up but then froze. She turned to Neil with a shit eating grin that was immediately worrying. “You know what’s another rule of sleepovers?”

“Is it a rule or an activity?” 

“Shut up. Pranks.” 

Neil did not want to get up from the pile of blankets. 

“They’re practicing at the court right?” She asked. “I know how to use the control systems, we can scare the shit out of them.” 

It was so tempting, but Neil did remember the words that left his own mouth earlier that day. About Kevin and his colossal issues. “There’s like a 50/50 that goes really badly.” 

“Oh, right. The cult.” She slumped. Well, it was only 50/50. 

“Yeah, the cult.” Neil pulled out his phone again. “I mean, I could ask.” 

“Who?” 

Neil pushed past his own colossal issues and sent a text to Andrew.

Neil: If we started flickering the lights and making noise over the speakers would Kevin be scared for his life or a regular amount of scared?

Andrew: We?

Neil: Answer my question first.

Andrew: Kevin would be annoyed

“Andrew says Kevin would just be annoyed,” Neil told Katelyn. 

“Well, then let’s go annoy Kevin.” 

Andrew: We?

Neil: Me and your favorite cheerleader.

Andrew: You mean the tumor I’ve been meaning to remove

Neil: Sure me and the tumor who are going irritate Kevin.

Neil tried to ignore the second part, as it was, again Aaron’s problem and not Neil’s. But then he looked at Katelyn as she pulled on her sneakers and coat. Her glasses pushed up on her forehead to keep her hair back. She grabbed a spare coat from the hook and tossed it to Neil. Neil had told Aaron he couldn’t do anything to keep Katelyn safe. And he needed Aaron to believe that so he would do something about the cold war between him and Andrew. But well. 

Neil: If you and Renee get to claim people, I do too. 

Neil: Katelyn is mine. Threaten all you want, do whatever to Aaron to get back at him. 

Neil: But if you try to hurt her you’ll have to kill me first.

Andrew: There it is. I figured this was just another ploy to get me to kill you. 

Andrew: I will not be leashed.

Neil: But you’d look so nice in a collar.

Neil stood up and pulled on his shoes and the slightly tight coat from Katelyn and then thought again. As funny as it was, it wasn’t at all true. And Neil tried to lie to Andrew as little as possible. 

Neil: I have no interest in leashing you, you dramatic fuck. 

Neil: I just want to be the only one dying.

Neil followed Katelyn in through the Vixen’s entrance to the Foxhole Court. They moved through the halls in total darkness, up a staircase and into the stadium proper through a silent service door.  

The distant noises of Kevin and Seth practicing ricocheted throughout the stadium. 

They went into the system’s control room and Neil propped open the door so they could hear what was going on if anyone yelled. The room was filled with screens and keyboards and switch boards and way too many buttons. 

Katelyn turned on the monitor, pulled her glasses down onto her face and started clicking around quickly. How she knew what anything did Neil had no idea. 

Another screen turned on with the live camera feed of the court. Neil stepped up to it and watched as Kevin and Seth moved across the screen in drills. Andrew just barely visible in the background on the first layer of seats. 

Katelyn hit a series of buttons and the spotlights used during the halftime shows started turning on and off, strobing across the court. 

Seth dropped his racquet and Kevin just looked around, still holding onto to his racquet. Andrew didn’t move at all. 

Katelyn hit another button and music flooded the stadium. 

Seth started laughing, Kevin started yelling, Neil couldn’t hear what over the music but it did seem to be annoyed yelling. Andrew moved a little, still out of focus but Neil pulled out his own phone at the movement and yes, Andrew was texting. 

Andrew: The music is a little on the nose.

Neil: I have no idea what’s playing right now.

Andrew: Of course not. Kevin is demanding I stop messing with practice.

Neil looked back up at the screen. Kevin was gesturing with his racquet from Andrew to around the stadium. 

Neil: Tell him it’s haunted.

Katelyn changed the music to another song and Seth started jumping up and down and then dancing. Kevin stormed off the court. 

“We should leave before Kevin gets up here,” Neil told Katelyn. 

She hit a few buttons and everything shut off. Seth loudly complained from down on the court. They started making their way out through the stadium. They were out of sight when the System Controls door slammed open. 

“NEIL GODDAMMIT WHERE ARE YOU,” Kevin yelled. “I KNOW IT’S YOU.” 

Katelyn put a hand over her mouth to stop from laughing as they slipped back into the Vixen’s changing room and then out of the court. She broke down laughing in the parking lot. 

Maybe if he were less of a ghost he’d be laughing too. At Kevin getting pissed, at Andrew enjoying it enough to comment on the music, at Seth immediately going with it. At the ugly snort Katelyn made as she wiped tears from her eyes in the cold parking lot. 

“The pizzeria is run by a mob we know.”

“What?” Randy asked. The silence in the room was obnoxious. Well, maybe, just maybe, Neil had gotten a little too comfortable with saying whatever the fuck he wanted. Matt definitely hadn’t shared that aspect of exy with his very caring and worried mother. 

“Haha,” Neil said out loud, releasing Matt and stepping back. “No, I’m fucking with you, it was closed though. Looked like a health code violation, you might want to not go back there.” 

“A mob we know?” Randy asked. That would be the focal point, Matt lying to her. 

“Yeah, sorry. That’s concerning to hear. Especially with,” Neil reached up and smeared the blood off his cheek. “Someone was throwing paint or something, at least I hope it was paint.” He made a grossed out noise. “No, I’ve just found the best way to deal with questions about, you know.” He gestured down to his torso. “Is to make up ridiculous stories, Matt got fixated on the mob one I told him.” 

“Yeah mom,” Matt jumped in. “First he tried telling us it was an unbalanced diet.” Oddly helpful and steady, lying well by not lying at all. 

“Before that he told us that he fought a bear,” Aaron said. They were almost there, the tension in her forehead smoothed out. 

“Look it really could have been anything,” Neil shrugged. “It could just be a skin condition.”

Randy nodded, amused, her shoulders fully relaxing, air escaped in an ‘ah of course’ sort of way. She opened the pizza box and grabbed a slice. 

It’s good to know he’s still got it. 

Matt went to grab food too, shooting Neil a look that said he would be asking about this later. 

“You little shit,” Aaron said in German. “What happened?” Apparently deciding to ask about it right then.

“Bad joke, don’t worry about it,” Neil lied in German. “Let me go wash this off.” He said in English. 

“What happened?” Kevin asked in French. 

Being multilingual was a mistake. 

Neil ran a paper towel through the sink and scrubbed at his cheek, it came away dark red. 

“Either I’ve solved half your problems or I’m dying next week or both, I don’t know.” Neil said in French as he tossed the paper towel into the trash.

“Stop being rude,” Nicky complained. “Neil still owes me a glass of champagne, we saved you one.” 

“How did you even manage that?” Kevin asked in French. 

Neil ignored him and went to immediately accept and down the plastic cup of champagne from Nicky, who cheered as he did so. Was Nicky helping on purpose? Or did he just want Neil to drink?

Neil pulled off his coat and shoes, he’d have to find a dry cleaner in Palmetto to get off the gunpowder residue, he wasn’t burning the coat Nicky gave him. He sat back down at the table and very pointedly asked Randy about new years resolutions. 

She stayed up for another half hour before pleading old age and going off to her room. Matt raised the volume of the tv and then stared at Neil. 

The champagne sadly hadn’t been enough to make the night less painful. He had just decided to start telling the truth a little more believably too. But now with a panel of expectant faces all wondering where the fuck he went that night and consequently what he’d meant by his little breakdown when he got back, the only thing in his head was the word escape. 

He could maybe distract them long enough to avoid it. Neil glanced at Erik, the interloper, who raised an eyebrow in response. 

“I assume this has to do with the mob bird team?” Erik asked. It was hard to say if he forgot the team was called the Ravens or was just trying to be funny. 

“How much does he know?” Kevin asked Nicky. 

“I tell him everything,” Nicky shrugged. 

“You told him about the extremely sensitive and dangerous mob run exy team, the one that the mere knowledge of could result in all of us being killed?” Kevin’s face went pale. 

“Yeah,” Nicky said. “Who says mere?” 

Erik leaned over and pressed his lips to Nicky’s forehead, the movement easy and more intimate than any wild fantasy or incredibly detailed monologue about Neil’s ass that Nicky had ever spouted off. It left Neil more unsettled than the prospect of talking about his impromptu negotiations with the mob heir.

“How much incriminating evidence do you think Riko kept on his phone?” Neil redirected. 

“Oh god what did you do?” Kevin asked. 

Matt tapped his fingers along the table. “The Moriyama’s run my pizzeria?” 

Neil shrugged. “Or they own whoever does. There was an execution going on when I walked in.” 

They all froze, faces dropped from concern to panic. Except Kevin who put his head in his hands. 

“What?” Neil asked. 

“You walked in on them killing a guy?” Aaron asked. 

“Yeah.” 

“Are you okay?” Matt asked. 

“What do you mean?” Neil was fine, he was upright and alive for at least another week. He hadn’t even gotten injured.

“You saw someone die.” Matt said as if that were a huge deal. 

Hm.

Oh right, yeah. Or no, actually. Because they dragged Simone away unconscious but still living so Neil didn’t see shit this time. He did shoot him though so there was a 50/50 chance he killed that guy. Something told Neil that wouldn’t exactly be the calming information to his audience that it was to him. And also it was sort of beside the point. 

“Matt, Nicky, Erik maybe—I don’t know what your life is like. I need the three of you to brace yourselves.” 

“Oh god,” Nicky said, his hands grabbed onto the edge of the table. 

Matt’s eyes somehow got wider. 

Erik just seemed puzzled. 

“I have no idea how many people I’ve seen die, but let’s not worry about that right now.” 

Aaron groaned. “Were you raised by serial killers?” He asked half-joking. 

Kevin made a considering face and Neil threw his empty champagne cup at him. 

“My weird childhood is besides the point,” Neil tried again. “Kevin, what would have been on that phone?”

“He’s not careful,” Kevin said. “I don’t know for sure, but it could be anything, everything, or nothing. What did you do?”

“I gave his SIM card to his brother and heavily implied that Riko was about to bring everything down with reckless abandon if someone didn’t put a leash on him.”

Kevin put his head down on the table, skipping his hands this time. 

“I can’t tell how insane that is,” Matt said. “Are we screwed or is Riko?”

“The trouble is, I don’t really know. It could go either way.” The fact that Ichirou also called him insane wasn’t exactly inspiring confidence. But he said he would look into it which would hopefully reveal the obvious information that Riko was out of control.

“How many people would you have to see die to stop being able to keep count?” Nicky asked. “I feel like that’s a sight that stands out against time.” 

Erik wrapped an arm around Nicky, who slumped against him like Erik was his center of gravity. 

“Do you want to explain or elaborate?” Matt asked. “Just this once as a holiday treat.”

“Not really,” Neil admitted, the year was already too long and they were only an hour into it. And that was without getting into the melodrama of blood, knives, and bodies that were his earliest memories. 

“You’re in worse trouble than Kevin aren’t you?” Aaron asked. What did he think Neil meant by assuring him he was going to die the other day? That it would be of old age in his sleep? Had Neil somehow deflected that too well?

“My trouble doesn’t matter right now.” Neil answered. 

“But you are in trouble?” Matt asked. 

“Depends on what you mean by trouble,” Neil wasn’t dealing with the dying conversation again. “My mom’s dead so in a very real sense I can’t get in trouble anymore.” 

Matt threw his hands up.

“I’ve always been in trouble, I can handle it.” Neil waved it off. Being born, being alive, apparently not being with the Ravens. And now whatever Ichirou would do in a week. 

“You’ve said that before,” Nicky said, bizarrely astute. “Or some variation. That’s why you’re not afraid of Andrew, right? Because you’ve dealt with worse your whole life?” 

Nicky wasn’t wrong, but he also wasn’t quite right. 

“Oh my god, don’t get him started on Andrew,” Aaron groaned.

“I’m not afraid of Andrew because he hasn’t given me a reason to be.” 

“He drugged you for information and threatened you with a knife.” Nicky said. 

“You, tweedle dipshit, and tweedle dumbass,” Neil pointed to Nicky, Kevin, and Aaron. “Were all there too and the three of you are about as scary as a pack of declawed kittens. He’s never actually cut me. I find him to be the most reasonable and straightforward of the lot of you. And you know what? To be honest? He drugged me to learn all my secrets and I know what those are, fair enough. It’s what I would have done. I could name like forty people who I’ve met personally that are worse and I’m only afraid of seven of them. Andrew is just some guy to me.” 

Aaron flapped a hand at Neil in a ‘see what I mean,’ gesture. 

“Should I be proud Andrew has a friend or disturbed that you think all of that was okay?” Nicky asked. 

“My head hurts, you find it easier to talk to Andrew?” Matt asked. “Wait why am I surprised? You’re both equally difficult, terrifying, and unpredictable.” 

“Correct, wrong but subjective, and just unfounded.” Neil said. 

“Unfounded,” Matt repeated.  

“Oh whatever,” Neil gave up, literally. He got up from the table and face planted into the couch. 

“Neil!” Nicky complained. 

“Neil is done for the day, check back tomorrow.” 

They got to the airport early the day after. Randy went with them, distributing warm smiles and a reminder that she would love it if they came back again over the summer. She held on tight to Matt, squished his cheeks between her hands and told him to be good. 

And then they marched in to check their bags and get through security. 

Erik’s flight was first which meant a long twenty minute goodbye where Nicky clinged to his boyfriend and failed at not crying. Nicky’s knuckles were pale where he gripped onto Erik’s shirt, his face buried in Erik’s neck. Whatever the two of them said to each other was too soft for Neil to hear. 

Erik went through his gate and Nicky sobbed, his hands clapped over his own mouth and then he visibly swallowed it all down. He looked unmoored. 

Matt, Aaron, Kevin all were looking around the airport, avoiding the sight. 

Andrew probably wouldn’t give a shit. Always more preoccupied with the physical safety of his group than their tears or frustration. 

Neil found it uncomfortable, he wanted to look away and wait it out. But more than that he wanted Nicky to stop. 

When Neil had still been small enough to command pity, a common enough tactic he and Mary had used was for him to cry. Distracting adults while Mary moved unwatched. When faced with crying children people often resorted to contact, a hug, a tethering arm on the shoulder, a pat on the back, soft words that meant nothing. 

Neil reached out and put a hand on Nicky’s shoulder and Nicky turned and collapsed against him. 

Okay, sure, hugging was fine.  

Nicky was shaking in Neil’s arms as Neil tapped him on the back. “There, there,” Neil said in a simulacrum of comfort. 

“Wow,” Aaron said. 

Neil flipped him off behind Nicky’s back and let Nicky keep hugging him. 

It wasn’t the worst. Maybe it was even nice. Casual and affection were two words Neil wasn’t even sure of the definitions of. Ever since joining the Foxes the number of times he’d been touched without violence or pretense had gone up almost ridiculously. 

He didn’t think he was anywhere near getting used to it, to not being startled by contact. He thought maybe that benchmark was a little too far away for him to ever experience, he’d be dead long before then. But at the very least he’d been around the Foxes long enough to think it wasn’t horrible. 

Nicky stepped back, rubbed the tears from his eyes and gave Neil a soft “thanks.” 

Neil nodded and gestured on to where their gate was waiting. 

They touched back down in Palmetto and Neil experienced retrieving a suitcase from the revolving conveyor belt of other people’s shit for the first time in his life. 

Matt had left his truck in long term parking before they left for New York, so after they retrieved their bags they just climbed in and Matt drove them back to campus. 

It felt as though several life times had eclipsed between the week and a half they had been gone. Neil had a second bag, several healing knife wounds, and maybe a week to live. Clearly it had been a productive trip. 

Matt pulled into Fox Tower and Andrew was already there leaning against his car. A cigarette hanging from his mouth, a long line of smoke trailing up into the air as he stared impassively. 

“I thought we were getting you today?” Nicky asked as he climbed out of the truck. 

That had been the plan as far as Neil knew. They all climbed out after Nicky. 

“Hey man, how’s sobriety?” Matt asked.

Andrew’s gaze passed over them all without a word. 

He had been so expressive before, now his face was still and his eyes seemed void of any emotion. 

“Right cool, good talk dude,” Matt said before moving to get his bag out of the trunk. 

Was this it? Andrew sober? Or was he still recovering? Was it the same formless apathy that overtook Neil most days. Dread left hanging so long it melts into nothing, carving out bones until standing takes too much effort. Everything just rubber and sinew.

Neil pulled his suitcase and duffle out of Matt’s truck and stacked one on top of the other. He pulled out his keys, separated the one for Andrew’s car from the rest and tossed it over. 

Andrew caught it in a smooth motion. 

“You,” Andrew pointed to Nicky, his voice low and steady. “Stay. The rest go.” 

And Neil picked up his bags and started for the doors. “Let’s go,” he urged the other three over his shoulder. 

“God forbid he give us an answer,” Aaron grumbled as he followed Neil. 

“Did you want some attention, Aaron?” Neil asked. “I can tell you how I’m doing.”

“Asshole.” 

“Is that what he was like before?” Matt asked as he hit the elevator button. 

“Yeah, pretty much. Ignoring everyone and making grand demands and unilateral decisions without consulting anyone.” Aaron answered. “So different from the medication.” 

They got on the elevator. 

“Well, he used to smile more,” Matt blanched. “Well, Dan would smack me for saying that.”

“This is better than the laughing,” Neil said, thinking of how Andrew had sounded after Drake left the parking lot. “Much better.”

“He’ll be more focused now,” Kevin said, almost pleading. 

“Good luck with that.”

Neil had unpacked, a row of poorly wrapped Christmas presents set out on his dresser, by the time Nicky shuffled into the room. 

“How is he?” Matt asked. 

“I really can’t tell,” Nicky admitted. “He wants to talk to you.” He said to Neil. 

Neil nodded and grabbed the present for Andrew. “How much did you tell him?” Neil asked. 

“As much as I know about, I guess. Renee’s trial, championships, New York, Riko. I had no idea how to explain New Years, so I didn’t even try.” 

Fair enough. 

Neil left his dorm and found Andrew waiting in the stairwell. Andrew turned and went up without a word. 

“I gotta say the silence might be more dramatic than the evil laughter, you’ve really upgraded.” Neil said as they went up. “I’m quaking in my shitty sneakers.” 

Andrew shoved open the roof access door and stepped out into the cold sunlight. 

“How’d you get back?” Neil asked. 

“Bee picked me up,” Andrew said, calm, even, mellow. Hinged even. He turned to Neil and studied his appearance. 

Neil had, admittedly, changed quite a bit since Andrew saw him last. His eyes were blue, his hair was bright orange, he still had the remnants of two black eyes from Kevin punching him and a healing cut on his hairline from where Riko had thrown him into a wall. 

He had on his new black coat from Nicky, the collar of his fluorescent yellow and green button up peaked out from the zipper. And to top it all off was the orange knit hat Katelyn had made him with little white foxes and racquets all around it. 

Andrew’s eyes narrowed, he reached up and pulled the hat off Neil’s head. 

“Isn’t there enough orange?” Andrew asked.

“You don’t have to look at me.” Neil reached for his hat. “That was a gift. Speaking of here.” Neil handed Andrew the little wrapped cylinder and pulled his hat back on his head. 

Andrew looked down at it for a long moment before peeling off the wrapping paper. It was a metal canister of fancy hot cocoa mix. Neil had no taste for sweets so he had simply made Kevin try the free samples and bought the one that made him angriest. 

“It was time to do my roots and I thought I might as well make it a color I actually like,” Neil finally answered. “Do you not give Nicky Christmas presents, he almost cried when Kevin and I did.” 

“Kevin?” Andrew asked, still staring at the can. 

“I made him buy everyone presents, I think he got you a book about haunted buildings in New York. So, you have that to look forward to.” 

Andrew put the can down on the top of one the vents that lived on top of the building. He turned to Neil. 

“Did you get this keeping your word?” Andrew moved on, reaching up to press his thumb in a line from the cut to the bruises around Neil’s eyes. 

“Yeah, I was valiantly defending Kevin’s fist from the dangerous air behind my head.” Andrew’s hand was colder than the air, maybe Neil should have gotten him gloves.

Andrew pressed down harder. 

“Riko tried to get me to go to Evermore, said if I didn’t a doctor at Easthaven would hurt you. I called bullshit and Kevin thought I was killing you.” 

“I don’t need or want anyone’s protection,” Andrew said, dropping his hand.

“I thought you didn’t like repeating yourself? What’s with the rerun? I didn’t ask, neither did Kevin. Or the rest of the team as we all argued about what crimes to commit to get you out of there. Or Wymack and Dobson as they actually did it.” 

“Maybe I think if I say it enough it’ll finally get through your thick skull. I can handle myself.” 

“You don’t have to,” Neil said. “If you’re jumping in front of every issue for everyone else shouldn’t at least one other person be watching your back?”

“Hypocrite.” 

“My issues will get everyone killed. So far yours have just gotten me lightly maimed.”

Andrew’s hand reached and then stalled about two inches from the hem of Neil’s jacket. 

“Nicky said you got stabbed.” He pulled out and lit a cigarette. 

“Nicky overexhaggerated, slightly.” Neil said. “I’m not taking my shirt off out here so you can see if I flinch. It was shallow cuts but even if Riko had stabbed me I would still be fine. And it would still be worth it. Your life is worth it.”

“I hate you,” Andrew warned. “I’ll kill you.”

“I’ll even tell you how to get away with it.” Right then, in a week, or a month, or whenever his father finally caught up to him. All that would change is the person doing it.

“I already know how to do that.” 

“You know how to cause a car accident,” Neil dismissed. “But you’re not gonna leave my death up to machines. You’re gonna kill me with your hands. That’s a whole different game.”

Andrew put his free hand up in a mocking choke. “Don’t tempt me.” He said with a drag of his cigarette. 

Neil reached up and snagged Andrew’s sleeve, pulled his hand right to Neil’s neck. 

“Do it,” Neil urged, a good death was all he wanted. “You could leave me up here until nightfall and then drag me down to the car and out to Columbia. I’m sure you know a nice deserted corner to leave me in. I’ll tell you where to cut me apart after, you’d do a good job. I know you would, with a little direction.”

Andrew’s hand didn’t move, he didn’t squeeze it shut or pull away. But the cigarette in his other hand snapped in half. “Or I could just throw you off this roof and tell everyone you jumped,” he said.

“Come now, Andrew, I already told you this isn’t high enough to kill me and I’d just drag you down too.”

“You were supposed to be a side effect of the drugs.” Andrew swayed forward and then stepped back, pulled his sleeve out of Neil’s grip. Well, it was worth a shot.

“That’s a nice thought, isn’t it?” Neil mused. “I wish you were just hallucinating me, that would be a better existence. If you’re not killing me today, next week someone from the Moriyama main branch is coming here to maybe do that.” Might as well warn him while they were doing the winter updates. 

“Explain,” Andrew lit another cigarette and looked away. Turned his gaze out over the campus. 

“When Riko pulled his New York stunt I stole the SIM card from his phone. I hadn’t decided what to do with it when I happened upon a Moriyama execution. I’d run into the guy before actually, he’d bragged about stealing money from his boss to hit on my mother and then sold us out and almost got us both killed, years ago.” It was amazing how long Simone had managed to live. 

“He still remembered me, I still remembered him. Caused a bit of a scene.” Neil debated elaborating. “Anyway Ichirou Moriyama was the one presiding over it. So I took the opportunity to hand over the SIM card and suggest he muzzle Riko. He said he’d get back to me in a week. They might kill me, they might fire Riko out of some sort of cannon, it’s hard to say.”  

“Your insistence on goading everyone you meet into killing you is getting old.” 

“Well if someone would just get it over with I wouldn’t have to keep trying.” Neil stole Andrew’s cigarette to make him look at Neil again. “This part is serious, if I tell you they’re here you need to keep away until it’s over and make sure everyone else does. I only told Kevin about the week deadline but he was drunk.” 

“Like you’ve stayed away from everyone else’s problems?” Andrew asked. 

Neil pointed at himself, “dying regardless,” he pointed at Andrew, “long life full of monologues and chocolate so long as you don’t involve yourself in my execution.” 

Andrew looked away again. “Get out of my sight.” He said. 

Neil spent the next two days of the vacation sitting on the couch with a blanket over his eyes as everyone ignored his suffering. 

“Why did Riko call you that? Stop pretending to be asleep. I can hear you mumbling, answer me.”

“Okay, I think you were right about the stitches, but please take it easy.” 

“Neil I need you to take me to an Exy court, I can’t live like this Neil, Neil please.” 

“Make a noise so Katelyn knows you’re alive, she won’t hang up until you do.” 

“Buddy, are you sure you’re okay? You keep saying you’re okay and then not moving for long periods of time?” 

“Neil, are you sure you’re not feeling up to broadway, we’re going to broadway!” 

“Why did Jean keep saying you were gonna die?”

Neil sat up, pulled the blanket off his head and squinted at Aaron. Everyone else was out seeing something called Spring Awakening. “Why do you hate Andrew?”

“I don’t hate him,” Aaron sputtered. 

“You don’t talk to him, ever, and he doesn’t talk to you.” It was the core of all their colossal issues, that the two of them wouldn’t just talk to each other. 

“This is besides the point—“

“No, I’ll answer if you answer.” 

“He killed my mom.” Aaron said it with a surprising amount of anger. 

“Wasn’t she abusing you?” 

“Oh my god, did he tell you that? Why would he tell you that?”

“I asked.”

“You asked Andrew about our mother and he answered you?”

“Yes, asking, that thing people do when they talk to each other.”

“Andrew was lying to you, alright, he killed her because she gave him up and he’s a petty bastard.”

“Andrew doesn’t lie.”

“That’s all he does.” Was Aaron insane? Was Neil? Had they both shuddered into some alternate reality where the guy who goes around saying whatever hard truth that enters his mind was somehow a liar? 

“Aaron, I am quite literally a pathological liar. Andrew doesn’t lie.”

“So, your name isn’t Neil? Riko was right?” 

“Oh my god,” Neil flung himself back down on the couch and immediately regretted it. “I can produce very convincing looking documents that all say my name is Neil Josten.” 

“THAT ISN’T AN ANSWER.” 

“Why does this matter?” Neil asked. “Can’t you just let me be Neil? Can’t this just be enough?” Who cared if Neil was lying a little bit about everything or a lot about his identity. Aaron didn’t work for the IRS, what did it matter.

“Why did Jean keep saying you were going to die? You specifically.” 

“Oh we all die someday--”

“Be serious, for fucking once just give me the real answer. You’re worse than Andrew, I swear.” 

Neil sat up again, stood up. Was confronted with his own truly degenerate B.O. He grabbed Aaron’s shoulder and looked into his nervous eyes. “Jean kept saying I was going to die because I am. Don’t worry about it.” 

“Don’t worry about it?” Aaron turned and started pacing the living room. “You can’t just say that and expect me to shrug it off and move on with my life, what is Riko going to do?”

“Riko is going to keep skulking about thinking he knows everything, it doesn’t matter.”  

“You’re my best friend, dipshit, I don’t want you to die!” 

“Best friend?” Neil asked. He sat back down on the couch.

“Oh, don’t sound so surprised, it’s either you or Kevin and you piss me off less.” Aaron’s face went red and he avoided eye contact.

“Huh,”  he’d seriously need to get around to asking someone what constitutes friendship, although Neil can’t be doing too bad if he’s got a best friend, even if said best friend Aaron ‘born to irritate’ Minyard. 

“So, it matters, alright. What’s going to happen to you?” 

“I will mouth off to the wrong person and they will inevitably dismember me. Look, it probably won’t be Riko, he’s not as good as he thinks. I’ve been hoping your brother would put me out of my misery but to be honest I think he finds me amusing.” Such obvious bait. 

“What the fuck is going on with you and my brother?” And yet Aaron is just a brainless fish. 

What was going on with Andrew? Crisis prevention? Aaron had called them ‘weird murder buddies,’ which didn’t feel right exactly, but it wasn’t like Andrew was around to offer his two cents on the matter. 

“I think we’re friends,” Neil admitted, bewildered with the realization. But if the other Foxes were his friends, and it seemed ridiculously that they were, Neil spent just as much if not more time around Andrew. Andrew trusted him, at least with his family, and most to watch his back, to be handed a knife and stand guard. To stand a bit closer then he let most people get. Friends didn’t feel right with anyone but what else was Neil supposed to call it?

“He doesn’t have friends, he has control issues and knives.” 

“You are so weird, you are all so weird,” Neil tilted his head back and looked at the ceiling, it gave him no comfort. “I, the scarred dangerous stranger who almost killed a guy two days ago, can have friends. But your brother, who by all means is just some guy, can’t?” 

“HE KILLED MY MOM.” 

“So? I lit my mom’s dead body on fire and watched it turn to ash, are we no longer best friends?” 

“Why the fuck would you do that?” Aaron’s face went pale. 

“Because if anyone found her body it would be easier to track me down, I bet Andrew didn’t even delicately pull your mother’s still warm bones from the fire and bury them on a beach.” 

“You are lying to me, right? This is part of your whole pathological liar routine?” 

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, you’re the one who wanted me to kill Riko in front of you.” 

“Oh, fuck Riko, at least if someone killed him things would get better.” 

“And things didn’t get better when Andrew killed your mom?” 

“Jesus Christ, why can’t I know any normal people?” 

“You know Katelyn,” Neil shrugged. 

“I am in love with Katelyn, and she thinks I’m a catch, she’s not normal.” 

“What are the terms of your deal with Andrew?” 

Aaron groaned and sat down on the couch. “I stay with him until graduation, stay clean, don’t associate with anyone he doesn’t approve of and in return he gets the satisfaction of ruining my life.” 

“Aaron.” 

“He protects me from women.” 

“You are the dumbest motherfucker in the world.” 

“Okay, now we’re no longer best friends.” 

Neil dragged a hand through his hair, so specifically stupid. The way that Aaron runs around doing exactly what he promised not to, expecting Andrew to what? Give up? Not kill Katelyn? “Hey, hey, dumb fuck,” Neil said, kicking Aaron’s leg until he turned to look at him. “No amount of me being friends with Katelyn is going to stop Andrew from murdering her, you need to sort this out when he gets back.” 

“How the fuck do you expect me to do that? Anytime I have ever tried to talk to him he pulls out a fucking knife!” 

“Oh boohoo, the consequences of your actions.” Neil only had so many friends he couldn’t afford to have them all killing each other while he was still alive. “What do you want? Do you want him to fuck off forever, do you just want him to stay out of your shit, do you even want a brother?” 

“I’ve always wanted a brother, he’s the one who told me to fuck off!” And for good reason, even if Aaron was a little too slow and set in his opinions of Andrew to realize it. 

“Fine then, here’s what you’re going to do. The third day after Andrew get’s back from rehab you go up to him and you ask him to negotiate, be clear, be concise, be willing to barter, and fucking listen when he tells you no.” 

“He’s not going to listen to me.” 

He probably wouldn’t considering how every other interaction with Aaron must have gone for them to get to this point. “You have to prove that you’re willing to listen.” 

“I have to prove,” Aaron scoffed. 

“Yes, jackass, Andrew isn’t like you. He’s like me. Why do you think it’s taken me so long to even entertain the idea that we are friends? You have to meet him where he’s at.” 

“Is that what you did?”

“I guess, look, just.” This was impossible, Neil was setting the team up for mass self-destruction via two stubborn bastards. “The two of you need a fucking mediator and if I try to do it I will lose my patience and kill either the both of you or myself. Call Dobson, ask her to do it.” She had proven herself a miracle worker, even if Neil would rather chew off his right hand then talk to her again. 

“You really are his friend, aren’t you?” Aaron looked vaguely horrified at the idea. Be it that he had something in common with Andrew or that someone actually liked being around his brother, Neil couldn’t tell. 

“I honestly think if I tried to say that to him he would stab me,” now there’s an idea. 

“I’m telling Katelyn you said she’s your friend.” 

“Okay.” 

The others came back after their show and they all helped Randy decorate for Christmas. Soft music with demented lyrics played, all stuff about Santa going on a murder spree or chipmunks biting it. Randy and Matt sang along loudly and the others found it begrudgingly amusing. Neil went where he was directed, the couch, and did the job Randy gave him, opening ornament boxes and handing them out to the others. 

All of the ornaments were old and worn, each one a little snapshot from Randy and Matt’s life. A picture of Matt as a baby in a snowman frame, a little exy racquet, a boxing glove, a fox. Their whole lives in small objects hung on a tree. It was interesting. 

Nicky was begging Randy for more baby photos of Matt when a knock sounded at the door. 

“Nicky, could you stop being a nuisance and get the door?” Matt asked. 

Suspicious, very suspicious. Neil considered sprinting across the room and opening the door first, but his head still hurt so he stayed put and watched Nicky go to the door. 

Nicky opened the door and immediately burst into tears, the man--who Neil hoped was Erik--wrapped Nicky up in a hug, lifted him off the ground and pressed kisses to his face and head. 

Neil looked at Matt who was beaming with clear involvement. 

“I love you, I love you, I love you,” Nicky was chanting inbetween sobs. 

“Yes, baby, I love you too,” Erik said in german. The likelihood of this tall blonde guy speaking German and holding onto Nicky for dear life not being Erik was insanely small. “HI,” Erik said in heavily accented English to the rest of them, over Nicky’s shoulder. 

“Hey Erik,” Aaron said without inflection. 

“Okay, okay,” Nicky hopped down from Erik's arms and let him come into the apartment. “This is Randy, she’s amazing. Matt, her son. Kevin, who only talks about Exy. And Neil--” 

“The one whose ass you kept telling me about?” Erik asked in amused German. 

Oh, did Erik think that was funny? Well, Neil was about to be hilarious.

“Yup, that’s me, if you could get him to stop talking about my ass that would be great actually,” Neil said in german. 

“YOU’VE KNOWN GERMAN THIS WHOLE TIME?” Nicky yelled. 

“Oh my fucking god,” Aaron awed. “No, no way.” 

“Yeah I lived in Germany for a while as a kid,” Neil answered, still in German. 

“This is hilarious,” Erik said in English. “You are my new favorite man.” 

“Erik!” Nicky whined. 

“Second favorite man.” 

“I am so impressed that you managed to sit on that one for this long,” Matt said. “How?” 

“I honestly kept forgetting to tell anyone.” 

“How many languages do you know?” Aaron asked. 

“Uh, fluent in three, okayish in another four.” 

“Andrew’s gonna lose his shit when he finds you you’ve understood us this whole time,” Nicky warned. 

“Andrew knows,” Neil told him. “Honestly, I figured he would have told you but then you kept talking about my ass.” 

“Why did Andrew get to know you speak German!” 

“He asked.” 

“If we ask you questions will you tell us the truth?” Matt asked. 

“It’s entirely possible.” Neil shrugged. He wouldn’t go around giving any monologues about his torrid past, but the idea of answering some questions with a bit of honesty wasn’t as revolting as it once was. Friends, yeah? That’s what they all were, hostile but loyal. 

Nicky and Erik took off on their own and the rest of them settled in to watch movies. 

Neil woke Kevin up early the next morning on Christmas Eve, dragged him out of bed and ignored his bitching while he made them coffee and shoved Kevin out the door. 

“Are we going to court?” Kevin asked, still bleary and exhausted. 

“No, we’re going shopping.” Neil told him. 

“You hate shopping, let’s just go to court.” 

“Yeah, I do hate shopping but we need to get everyone Christmas presents.”

“What?”

“Presents, for the team, people who care about each other occasionally exchange items,” he was adapting Matt’s dating rules, there was certainly enough proof to suggest it was the right track. All of the holiday movies they’d watched the night before had suggested the same.

“That’s,” Kevin dragged his hands across his face. “Neil, what?” 

“I have never had friends, I’ve also never bought anyone presents.” They stepped outside and Neil started ushering Kevin towards the subway. “You’re going to help me.” 

“Why?” 

“Because we’re friends.” 

“That’s--” Kevin made a face. “Fine, but I’m not getting anyone anything.” 

“Yes you are.” 

“I don’t do presents.” 

“We’re learning right now. Look,” Neil grabbed onto Kevin’s arm. “I am going to die, you won’t. You get to live Kevin. So, you are going to live. You’re gonna let the upperclassmen befriend you and you’re going to keep dragging Andrew to court. And you are going to be fine. You will have friends and a team and Coach and Abby and you will live a long stupid life for the both of us.” 

“I don’t know how to do this,” Kevin admitted. 

“You think I do?” 

“I don’t know how to do any of it, Exy makes sense at least.” 

“I don’t think it’ll ever get any easier, but it’s worth it. Isn’t it?” 

Kevin scratched his left hand. And gestured for Neil to keep leading the way. They got onto the subway and sat in silence while Neil threw Riko’s SIM card into the air and caught it over and over again. He still hadn’t decided what to do with it, hadn’t worked up the nerve to slip it into a phone and look through the contents. Maybe he’d ask Andrew for help in the New Year and pawn it off on him.

Shopping was inordinately hard, Kevin and Neil kept arguing over what people would like. Neil found a t-shirt with a mangy looking cat on it and showed it to Kevin, “this is you.” Neil said. 

Kevin retaliated in the next store with a picture of a dumb looking sheep. And on it went. As Neil picked out the softest scarves and sweaters he could find and Kevin tried to make an argument for nutrition based gifts. 

“Should we get stuff for Coach or Abby?” Neil asked. 

Kevin looked at the wall of coffee mugs. “Probably, I think Nicky did.” 

Neil grabbed two and put them in the cart. Done and done. 

Kevin picked up a mug covered in racquets, “Wymack’s my father,” he said quiet and defeated. 

That made a concerning amount of sense. “Are you going to tell him?” Neil asked. 

“I don’t think it’ll go over well.” 

It wouldn’t, Wymack wouldn’t believe him and Dan would probably challenge him to a duel for Wymack’s honor or something equally ridiculous. “If it’s any consolation, I don’t think Wymack would stab you.” 

“Neil.” 

“I’m just saying, as far as fathers go he seems very unstabby. Against stabbing even, if we consider how he reacts to Andrew.” 

“None of this is fair.” It wasn’t a complaint or a whine, it was just a fact. 

“I know,” Neil agreed. “You should tell him he’s your father while I’m still around. A little entertainment is the least I deserve.” 

Kevin reached over and shoved him. Neil shoved him back. Kevin grabbed a mug off the shelf and then shoved the cart forward. 

“You should talk to Dan,” Neil told him. 

“What?’ 

“Well, she’s the captain and wants to be Wymack when she grows big and grumpy. She’s basically your older sister.” 

“You’re insufferable.” 

“I’m delegating, I can’t help you with this shit, my experience with fathers is exclusively being hunted for sport. Besides, if you go to Dan first she might not hate you forever.” 

“I don’t care if she hates me or not,” Kevin grumbled. 

“You’re going to start,” Neil told him. “You have to carry on being a demented asshole for me after I’m dead and that means caring about all the other demented little assholes on our team.” 

“That’s not--” 

“I don’t care, this is what I’m asking you to do. Will you do it?” 

“You’re asking for a lot.” 

“It’s literally my dying wish.” 

“I’ll try.” 

They finished shopping before noon, before anyone else even had the chance to wake up and wonder where they’d run off too. Neil managed to discreetly ask Randy for spare wrapping paper and then him and Kevin horrifically wrapped and labeled all their gifts for everyone. Most went into the new suitcase Neil had bought while they were out for this purpose. A whole second bag to lug presents back to South Carolina. 

Randy passed around eggnog and Erik told everyone stories about Germany. They all played cards and Randy put on old Christmas music to fill the air. Kevin made conversation and didn’t insult anyone for the whole night. 

It was nice. It was nice to see Nicky so happy, Aaron so calm, Kevin so trying. Matt seemed pleased and his mom seemed over the moon and Neil thought it was all just really nice. It was nice to spend this time with them, it was even nice to miss the others. To look at the texts from the girls and Seth and think about Andrew in rehab and know that they were all safe enough. That he would see them in the new year. It was nice that he got to have any of this at all. 

A warm blanket wrapped around him as he played a game everyone explained the rules to, it was good. 

Late in Christmas morning everyone came into the living room on some sort of understood Holiday tradition. Matt and Randy exchanged presents. Randy gave them all candy and an invitation to come back in the Summer. 

Nicky handed out presents, he gave Aaron a set of video games and Matt a stack of horrible looking movies. He gave Randy a pair of earrings and Kevin a set of leather gloves. He gave Neil a soft black coat. 

Nicky kissed Erik on the cheek and sat back down with him. 

“Right then,” Neil said, he poked Kevin in the side. 

Kevin got up and got the wrapped presents from Randy’s guestroom. 

“You got us presents?” Nicky asked in an amazed slightly shrill voice. 

Neil and Kevin handed them out silently. 

Neil gave Randy a soft scarf, Kevin gave her a coffee mug that said, “Mama Said Knock You Out,” on it. 

“Oh, thank you,” she said, touched. 

Neil gave Matt a T-Shirt with some movie character Matt liked on it. Kevin gave him a book of comics that seemed vaguely familiar to one of Matt’s other pop culture obsessions. 

“These are both really thoughtful,” Matt admitted, his jaw slack.

Neil gave Aaron a keychain that doubled as brass knuckles. Kevin gave him a book on the history of handwashing. 

“You motherfuckers.” 

They each gave Erik an envelope containing IOU’s with the offer to pay for flights to South Carolina. 

“Thank you,” Erik said with a giant smile, slipping the envelopes back into his pocket before Nicky could look at them. 

Neil gave Nicky a fuzzy sweater and Kevin gave him a pair of socks covered in the word “Slut.” 

“You guys got me presents,” Nicky was crying. 

“Aaron have you never gotten your cousin a present?” Neil asked in utter disbelief. 

“Oh, shut the fuck up, I called Erik didn’t I.” 

“I’m telling Katelyn.” 

Aaron stood up grumbled and cursed and left the room and then came back still grumbling and cursing with his backpack. He pulled out a wrapped present that he tossed to Nicky and then one that he threw at Neil. “These are from Katelyn, not me. Shut up. She made them.”

Nicky opened his, shuddering as he tried not to cry. It was a deep green knitted hat that looked complicated to make and warm. Nicky immediately pulled it on and smiled bigger than Neil had ever seen, except for maybe when Erik knocked on the door.

Neil opened his, it was bright orange with white Foxes and Exy racquets all around it. Neil ran his hand along the knitted fabric. “She made this?” He asked. She made it for him? For him?

“Yeah,” Aaron shrugged.  

And finally Neil and Kevin both exchanged their dumb animal t-shirts that they’d both managed to purchase without the other noticing. 

“You both did such great jobs with literally everyone else, what is this?” Nicky asked. 

“That’s what Kevin looks like,’ Neil said, pointing to the yacking homeless looking cat on the shirt Kevin was holding up. 

“That’s what Neil looks like,” Kevin said at the same time pointing to the brainless sheep without a thought behind its eyes on Neil’s shirt. 

Matt had them both hold up the shirts again so he could take a picture and send it to everyone else. 

On New Years Eve Nicky wanted to go to Times Square. 

“Describe this experience to me?” Neil asked. 

“Everyone goes to Times Square on New Years Eve, there'll be music and fireworks and it’ll be neat!” Nicky said. 

“Everyone? In one of the most densely populated cities in the world will be in one place, with loud noises, tonight?” Neil asked. 

“Yes!” 

“Nicky, I will freak the fuck out. I will freak out so bad you’ll all be so pleased to return to someone well adjusted when I give you back to Andrew.” 

Nicky pouted but then agreed to a far more low-key New Years on the condition that Neil have champagne. 

Randy put the tv on to show the Times Square show and Neil silently patted himself on the back for avoiding that colossal trainwreck. Nicky could go to Rockin’ New Years Eve when Neil was dead and rotting. 

They played poker and maintained conversation that wasn’t awkward or strained or even slightly hostile. Erik was the dealer and they were betting with cookies shaped like trees. 

“Neil, how the hell do you keep winning?” Matt asked. 

Neil kept winning because he learned poker from criminals and how to remain calm under pressure from being tortured by criminals and how to read people from running from criminals. Also he was cheating. But that’s on everyone else for getting up to get snacks so constantly and leaving Neil at the table alone with all the defenseless cards. 

“Matt, sweetie, after you fold could you run down to pick our food?” Randy asked. 

“I’m not folding!” Matt said. 

“Well,” Neil said, because Matt had zero poker face and also Neil had looked at his cards. “You are, but it’s okay. We can trade hands, I’ll go get the food.” He tossed his hand over to Matt, who looked at the cards and then mouthed ‘what the fuck’ to Neil. Probably at the statistically improbable perfect hand Neil had put together for himself when no one was looking.

Neil put on his new coat and asked Randy for the directions to the pizza place again. It was just down the block, there was still an hour until midnight. He could do with a walk, with a little bit of time away from the idiots. And he was feeling magnanimous, almost high off everyone getting along and having a good time. 

The buildings in New York had a way of turning the wind into knives. Of cutting right through the bone, every exhale left a trail of smoke as Neil made his way to the pizza place Matt and his mom were obsessed with. They’d saved “New York Pizza,” for New Years Eve, a huge deal apparently. 

Their time in New York was coming to an end, they’d leave in two days and then they’d pick up Andrew from rehab and time would march on. However much of it Neil had left. 

Neil looked up at the generic looking glowing Pizza sign and pulled the door open. 

The bell above it rung. 

Neil stepped inside, the pizza place distractingly warmer then the streets outside. The lights were dim, no one was behind the counter. 

There was a room off to the left full of people, Neil stepped over to it hoping to catch the eye of whatever asshole worked here so he could pick up the order for Boyd and be on his way. 

Neil looked around the dining room of the Pizza place and several facts and figures fell into irritating alignment. Men in suits everywhere, especially stationed around the walls obviously packing heat. The six men seated around a table with shiny watches, one of whom Neil recognized as a contact from France who nearly got him and his mom killed and one of whom looked too much like Riko to not be his older brother.

There’s a place down the road that mom and I think might be a front for the mob. Matt had said. Matt had said out loud to Neil. Neil had listened, had processed those words and verbally responded and then he had forgotten. Like a fucking moron. I don’t think it’s a mob we know.

Moriyama territory, New York was Moriyama territory, how stupid could they all fucking be. 

“Wesninski,” French dickhead, Simone Breton, said. “You’re still alive?” 

God Fucking Damnit. Neil was having a good night. A great night even. 

The nearest guard grabbed ahold of Neil and shoved him forward. The guard standing behind Breton was too close to be normal, all the tables had plastic covers over the table cloths, there was a carpet on the floor that looked like it should be there, maybe, if the owners were insane and had about thirty backups or a good dry cleaner. The careful distance between Breton and Ichirou, so the little heir wouldn’t get any blood or viscera on his nice clothes. 

“Simone Breton, still double dealing and stealing profits?” He’d bragged about it to Mary before he’d called Nathan and sold them out, all arrogance and no sense. Neil had a road rash scar all along one side because of this asshole. His head was pounding. Neil put up a token struggle and slipped the gun from the guard holding him.

Everyone in the room looked at Breton. “Please as if this unruly child has any idea--” Neil jerked his arm out of the guard's grip and shot Breton in the shoulder. Ten weapons were trained on Neil. Neil raised his hands up, letting the guard behind him take the gun from his grip. 

“You will die for this,” Simone spat out, barely coherent. He passed out, tumbling from his chair. Pathetic pain tolerance.

“Not this,” Neil disagreed. He turned to an unimpressed Ichirou Moriyama. “My apologies, my lord, for jumping the gun, so to speak. He tends to monologue a lot if memory serves really just better to cut him off at the start.” 

“And you presume to know anything? Wayward child?” 

“I presume to string basic facts into an intelligible order, yes.” Neil gestured to the carpet, the tables, the man who had been ready to execute Simone. 

“Give me one reason I shouldn’t kill you right now for your arrogance?” 

“Because I’d die content with a smile on my face, having wasted your precious time and resources to get out of what I’m sure is a long list of torture my father is planning for this fall. Why spoil his fun just to make my death a little better for me.” 

Ichirou waved his hand and all the guns went back to their holsters. “Everyone else leave, tonight went as planned and nothing happened unless I say otherwise, deal with that,” he gestured to Breton. “You sit.” He said to Neil. Everyone else filtered out. 

Neil sat down at the table. It was like his brain had switched off, he really should be terrified but all he could wonder is where the fuck the people who actually worked at the pizzera were. And subsequently where the damned food that Randy had ordered was sitting. 

“Where are you getting all this audacity from?” 

“Considering my father is your father’s bitch, I guess, I get the audacity from my mother.” 

“A bitch that will kill you.” 

“Oh, painfully, slowly, and with all the knowledge of how best to make it hurt. He is good at his job. I really would rather you just shoot me.”

“Where is your mother?” 

“Dead.” 

“And why are you here tonight?” He asked. 

“I’m sure you won’t accept bad luck as an answer, my lord, so let’s go with stupidity.” Neil reaches into his jean pocket and tosses Riko’s SIM card across the table. “You should check in on your brother’s keepers; he's getting a little unruly. Leaving trails left and right that will ruin everything your father’s built before you can inherit it.” 

“There’s that audacity again,” Ichirou looked at the SIM card. 

“Yeah, well, my mother was a bitch too, she just went freelance.” 

“You belong in Evermore working off the money you stole.” 

“I’d die in Evermore before I ever made anyone a cent, if you don’t collar Riko, Jean Moreau will die before he can make you anything. If he’s even still functioning right now. Evermore is a pit where investments go to die.” 

“Your father would never accept you living free.” 

“He would never accept me living, is your father about to put a bullet in his head before he removes mine?” Neil wasn’t supposed to exist but Moriyama decree, he knew a losing fight before he swung. 

“What do you even think you have to offer here?” 

“Friendly advice from beyond the grave,” dying would put one hell of a damper on New Years. “And directions to half a million dollars.” His binder was in his bag at Randy’s, but Ichirou didn’t know that or need to.

“Money you stole.” 

“Money my mother stole, or what’s left of it I guess. One could make the argument that I’m precisely where your family wants me, on the court.” 

“You are nothing, no one that I would ever deign to listen to. Untested and unworthy.” 

“And yet here we both are,” Neil spread his hands magnanimously. “Because I could be a huge pain in your ass or I could play Exy until my father kills me. And I shot the annoying french man who was stealing from you.” 

“Until your father kills you, so you're not here to beg for your life?” How many times do they have to go over this? 

“Neither of us have any say in my death, let’s not be delusional.” Even if he could convince Ichirou to convince Kengo, nothing short of the grave would stop Nathan. “I am here because the way Tetsuji and Riko run Evermore is going to cause a public incident. Because Riko has already been careless enough to make threats in public places, make attempts on people's lives, leave money trails with known offenders and criminals. And to come after me by himself. What is Exy to you? My lord, what is it to your father? A convenient cover, a bit of extra money? It’s not worth the fall out the Ravens are setting up right now.” 

Ichirou stared at him, looked down at the SIM card and tilted his head. 

“So, then, why not just clean house?” Ichirou asked. “Be done with the lot of you.”

“What did I say about not being wasteful. If you let Kevin and Jean go they’d never speak a word of any of this, there’d never be proof of anything other than Riko being a sadistic asshole. Riko has ensured that comes out, you and your father have the opportunity to properly disconnect. Cut Riko off, muzzle him, leave behind Exy for what you do best. There are plenty of economical ways to go about this.” 

“Economical, and what of you?” 

“What of me? I’m here right, at your little meeting. I put a bullet in Simone’s shoulder, he keeps his real books in the hollow of his fern by the way, back in his estate in France, it’s the one with the blue flower. I doubt he’s changed it since, that sort of arrogance results in complacency. I’m untested? There.” Neil gestured to the blood still pooled on the carpet. “Unworthy? Sure, but I don’t have to be your problem.” He was threatening the heir to a crime dynasty. He was beating Aaron out for dumbest motherfucker in the world. 

Ichirou stared at him, this whole time Neil couldn’t tell what he was thinking. The man was inscrutable, it was impossible to adjust language to appeal to him. Neil was still expecting for Ichirou to call out to one of his men and have Neil’s brains splattered all over the dining room. 

“You’re insane,” Ichirou said. “Insane, rude, and quite possibly the most idiotic person to ever sit at a table with me.” 

“Give me a little more credit than that, Simone Breton was just sitting here.” Neil was going to die, but he would die doing what he loved. Being a little shit. 

“I’m going to look into this,” Ichirou waved the SIM card through the air. “And in one week a man will be at your door to collect the ‘directions to half a million dollars,’ and possibly kill you.” 

“Do you promise?’ Neil asked. “If you order him to use a gun and aim for my head I’m willing to up the probability.” 

“Leave,” Ichirou commanded, his face finally breaking out of cold stone into incredulous confusion. 

Neil stood up, his knees nearly buckled. His legs weren’t working right, weren’t listening to his brain telling them to fucking move. “You know if anyone’s working here tonight, I was supposed to pick up a couple of pies?” Neil asked. 

“If you don’t leave now, I'm killing your entire team.” 

Neil nodded and jabbed his fist against his thigh to get it in working order. And he left the pizzeria. He couldn’t feel the cold on his face as he left the store and took the long way back to Randy’s apartment. He could make a fifteen minute walk an hour. He wanted to make it three, to ensure he wasn’t followed, but they lived so close, it was more dangerous for Neil to be away longer. 

Still he went into another pizzeria and got whatever they had ready to go. His phone started buzzing in his pocket on the way back but Neil was terrified of what would be on the other side. 

He walked back up to Randy’s apartment and knocked on the door. 

“Dude, what took so long?” Matt asked, stopped, stared at Neil’s face. ‘Okay, what the fuck happened.” 

Neil put the pizza down on the table. It was well past 12:30, he’d missed the ball drop. 

“That isn’t the place we ordered from?” Randy observed. 

“Neil is that, blood on your cheek?” Nicky asked, his voice shaky. 

There were a lot of reasons Neil had never gone to New York City. The obvious and unspoken reason being its proximity to Baltimore and the outer edges of Nathan’s territory. Although, now Neil had the blessed knowledge that they also were avoiding New York itself just for being Moriyama territory. Maybe that one should have been spoken, just once. Would have been helpful to know, but whatever. 

As for actually spoken reasons, Neil and Mary had a debate, an ongoing years long debate of the pros and cons of places to hide. 

Rural areas offered seclusion, but lacked resources and easy exits. Too much to land to cover, too far from airports and trains. Low population meant it would be easy to spot Nathan’s goons but also that Neil and his mom would both stand out more as newcomers. 

Smaller communities tended to be tighter knit, harder to infiltrate, nosier. People who want to help out so bad that, “I’ve been looking for my sister and her kid, y’know, we’ve been estranged for a while but I think it’s time to make amends,” sounds genuine and great. And not like an obvious Lola Malcolm Plot to skin the both of them alive and drag their fleshy dying bodies back to Nathan to finish off. 

The Suburbs have enough people that most will mind their business. Everyone’s got jobs and families and you can find out who the gossips are and avoid them. They have more roads, are closer to the airports. Enough houses and shops to find a job and a place to live. Just the right balance between places to hide and ability to see someone coming. 

People might notice you showed up and they might notice that you’re gone. But there’s enough going on that won’t be the biggest news anyone’s ever heard. 

Cities on the other hand. Cities had so many people that they would be virtually invisible 99% of the time. Which would have been great, except in that 1% of being noticed they wouldn’t be able to see anyone coming. They wouldn’t be able to escape, not really. 

Cities are big if no one’s hunting you down, stomping into your footprints with an axe in hand. Then it’s just a winding dead end with extra noise and people to deal with. It didn’t matter how many resources you had access to, how many exit points and streets there were to run down. Not if you got cornered without warning. 

Fucking Seattle. 

Randy Boyd was waiting for them all in front of JFK airport with a handmade sign that said “FOXES” in bright orange letters and a smile so wide it made Matt’s seem small. A taxi idling behind her. 

She folded Matt into an embrace and then introduced herself to the rest of them. “None of that Mrs. Boyd crap, please. It’s just Randy. It’s good to finally meet you boys. Woah, what happened?” She gestured to Neil’s matching black eyes courtesy of Kevin breaking his nose. 

“I just look like this,” Neil waved her off. 

Randy looked over at Matt who groaned. 

“It’s better to not ask with him.” Matt said. 

“Well alright,” Randy shrugged. She had them all throw their bags in the taxi then ushered them all in. 

There was an irritating amount of traffic as they were driven to Randy’s place. Matt, Randy, and Nicky passed the ride with chatter full of awkward holes where Neil or one of the other two were supposed to fill in. 

Randy’s apartment was large. She had posters from her boxing matches lining the walls. Each one some variation on ‘Rough ‘Em Up Randy,’ vs some other equally alliterative stage name. 

There were three bedrooms, Randy’s, Matt’s, and a guest room. Matt so graciously announced he’d be bunking with his mom, making two beds and one couch for the rest of them. 

Nicky, Aaron, and Kevin all started arguing over who would be sharing with who and after the third time Neil’s name came up he pointedly dropped his duffle next to the couch and promptly sprawled out on it. 

The three duckies went to put their stuff down still arguing about beds.

“Okay, but don’t get too comfy dude,” Matt said, leaning over the couch. “We gotta go get bagels. I seriously need a good bagel before I succumb to southerness.” 

“The bagels in Palmetto are fine,” Neil said. 

“Fine is not the peak of all existence, buddy, I’m gonna get you a bagel that’ll let you see god.” 

“I don’t need that.” 

“You need a bagel,” Matt disagreed. “And at some point we’re gonna have to get some good pizza too. There’s place down the road that mom and I think might be a front for the mob, but like the pizza is so cheesy it’s worth it.” 

Neil raised an eyebrow, fairly certain he had plenty of mob related things without adding pizza to the list. That could not possibly be worth it but it was Matt’s city. 

“I will not be entering that building,” Neil said, just to be safe. 

“Yeah, that’s fair, although I don’t think it’s a mob we know,” Matt shook his head. “I did not like saying that.” 

They all went a few streets over to a small bagel place, Matt and Randy shoving a few tables together so they could all sit after they got their food. Randy asked Matt to go grab napkins and once he was out of ear shot she turned to the rest of them. 

“Thank you all, for looking out for Matt, and be sure to pass that on to Andrew.” 

“We really don’t need your thanks, Randy,” Nicky said, wincing in that embarrassed way that meant Andrew did something. “Matt’s… great.” 

“He is, but still. As rough as it was, he’s stayed clean and I,” she turned and looked at Matt, who’d gotten caught in a conversation with the cashier. “I really thought he was going to die before he graduated. I thought he was gonna die.” 

 Neil basked in the absolute glory of having no idea what the fuck anyone was talking about. The pieces were there, scattered not just in this conversation but in the upperclassmen’s general disposition and opinions towards Andrew. 

Clean, dying, thank Andrew. Nicky’s Andrew wince. Simple arithmetic. 

Andrew had most likely taken up the sobriety hammer and wacked Matt in the head with it until it stuck. Violent enough for ‘monster,’ effective enough that Randy had tears in her eyes. Andrew wasn’t kind but he got results.  

“So, thank you,” she said again. “And if any of you need anything don’t hesitate to ask me. What’s the point of the life I built if I can’t help those helping me. It’s about the people on the ropes with you, so, anything.” 

“You’re really sweet,” Nicky said. “You’re a good mom.” 

Maybe she was. 

Matt came back to the table and they all chattered. Randy even succeeded in getting Kevin to engage in non-exy related conversation. Getting Aaron to talk to her at all. 

Randy was sweet, she was funny. She remembered names and facts, she asked after the team, after classmates Matt had. She listed off places they should visit in New York, asked if they wanted to visit the gym she sparred at. She told Matt he better get Dan’s stage sister’s numbers so he could get her ring size right. 

She asked Aaron about Katelyn. Who for once had the decency to skip the whole ‘we’re not dating’ song and dance. 

Randy cared about Matt, wanted to know everything about him and his life. And she did, clearly. And to her caring about Matt meant caring about everything in his life. That he was alive, yes, but also that he had friends, teammates. People to violently drag him off the ledge and eat bagels with in New York. 

“Neil, you’re a math major, yeah? You looking to be a professor?” Randy asked him. 

“Um, I,” he was going to be dead long before that would matter. “I just like math.” 

“Well, trust me that’s the best start you can get. You know, I got into fights every day as a kid, my old man told me ‘you can’t live off of punching people.’ Showed him, right?” Randy laughed. 

The cashier yelled out “fifteen ‘til closing,” and they headed back to Randy’s apartment. 

She either cared about them--Neil, Aaron, Nicky, Kevin--or she was a better liar than Neil. Because he believed her, when she said anything. He really did. 

That night Matt took them to his favorite bar. Before they left Randy and him did this fifteen minute exchange, like a weird staged play. 

“You have your phone?” Randy asked. 

“Yeah, of course?” 

“Cover for the bar?” 

“We’re good.” 

“You know my friend, Derek is only half a block from The Fat Cat, I’ll text him to keep an ear out tonight if you need to swing by for anything.” 

“Ma, you don’t need to text Derek, it's like a ten minute train ride.” 

And it continued, right up until Matt gently shut the front door on his mom calling out, “and stay together!” 

The Fat Cat was underground and loud. A jazz band playing on a stage, the music echoing around the concrete walls. The reason it was Matt’s favorite was immediately obvious. People drank and played chess, pool, ping pong, foosball, checkers, even scrabble. 

It was oddly perfect. 

They couldn’t hear each other over the music, which prevented hostile conversation. There was alcohol which kept Aaron and Kevin from complaining. And there were games, a focused activity that brought out the natural competitive spirit of being collegiate athletes. 

They had an odd number for teams, so they cycled in and out, Neil trying to sit out more than the others. He’d never played about half of the games and the half he had played were steeped in odd memories. 

When Neil was eleven they’d gone to England to stay briefly with Mary’s family. They’d been there for maybe two weeks, the stay entrenched in an odd tension. Neil’s mother didn’t like her family all that much, is what Neil had taken away from it. But while they’d been staying in Uncle Stuart's spare room, Mary had pulled out a chess set. The one that her and her brother had used growing up, that she’d given to Stuart when she left the country. 

Information she didn’t tell Neil, but that he understood. Stuart had left the masking tape label on the box, Mary, written in too shaky letters. Clearly the writing of a child. The pieces were all worn, some chipped, one rook was broken in half. The box had dust on it, Stuart probably hadn’t touched it since she left. 

Mary explained how each piece worked once and then they’d played two games each night until they left. Neil never could manage to beat her. After England whenever they came across a set they’d play. They never bought any sets, they never took them with them on the road. But some houses would have a forgotten box in a closet. Some hotels would have one underneath the sink. And Mary always won. 

He did beat Nicky though, playing in The Fat Cat bar. Neil beat Nicky within ten moves and Nicky stuck out his tongue in response. 

Neil dragged Nicky back over to where the other three were practicing pool trick shots, mostly just embarrassing themselves, and then Neil went to go get another water. He was leaning against the bar when Jean tapped on his shoulder. 

God fucking dammit. 

“Outside,” Jean whispered in Neil’s ear. 

Neil could just punch Jean in the face, he doesn’t but he thinks about it real hard. Neil glanced back at his team. They weren’t looking at him. Jean pulled on his arm and Neil went with him. 

Jean pulled Neil out of the bar, up the stairs and around the corner into an alley and there was Riko. 

Riko reached out and grabbed Neil by the hair slamming him into the brick wall of the building head first. Neil went to hit him back and there was a knife to his neck. 

Neil stopped breathing. 

Riko tapped the blade against Neil’s throat. Then set it against his stomach, under his shirt. 

“Do you think you’re funny?” Riko asked. 

“Yes,” Neil wheezed out. 

Riko cut him. It was light, probably wouldn’t even scar. But the sting made the alley start to spin. “I should just kill you for your insolence, you’ve been allowed to run around with the illusion of freedom for too long. You. Belong. To. Me.” Riko punctuated the words with shallow cuts. 

He should move, Neil should move. Neil should run. 

“The options were you come to the Nest or the good doctor has his fun with Minyard. Neither of which include his little transfer or you coming here. Nathaniel, you’ve upset me.” 

“Not Nathaniel,” Neil whispered. 

“What was that?” Riko asked, slicing a deeper line into Neil’s stomach. “Nathaniel, Nathaniel, are you so stupid that you don’t know you’re own name? You’re going to learn. You’re going to text you’re team, tell them you had a family emergency and then you are coming back to Virginia like a good little boy. Or else I’ll have too--” 

Riko fell away. 

Literally, he collapsed mid sentence, the knife clattering to the floor. Behind him was Aaron, holding a chunk of 2x4 that had been sitting in the alley. 

“What the fuck Josten?” Aaron hissed. 

Neil attempted to breathe, it sort of worked. 

“We’re all going to die,” Jean complained. “We’re all going to be strung up and bled dry.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Aaron told him. 

Neil dropped down to his knees, he grabbed the knife. Each motion disconnected from the decision to act. He could kill him. He had Riko in an alleyway and Neil was holding the knife. He could carve ‘leave us alone,’ right into his skin. He could slit his throat. 

“Just fucking kill him and let’s go,” Aaron said. 

“Are you crazy as well as stupid?” Jean asked. “You can’t kill him!” 

“Well, I could,” Neil said, tapping the knife against the underside of Riko’s jaw. “Enough force right through here and he wouldn’t even feel it. Aaron calls the cops, I go to prison and get executed by the mob.” 

“Okay, don’t do that,” Aaron said with an edge of panic. 

“ You are going to die either way, but if you kill him now both me and your useless backliner die too.” Jean said. 

“Fuck off,” Aaron said. 

Jean had a point. Sadly. 

Neil tucked the knife into the front pocket of Riko’s pants. Then he dug Riko’s wallet and phone out of his jacket pockets. “Aaron, go get the others, we need to leave.” Neil said as he pulled the sim card out of Riko’s phone. 

He put the sim card in his own pocket and then turned to the wallet. Quickly and systematically Neil snapped every card in half and then put it back in. Riko’s ID, his driver’s license, his credit cards, his debit cards, his punch card for Tropical Smoothie. 

“I hate you,” Jean informed him as Neil put the wallet back in Riko’s jacket. 

“I could not care less,” Neil stood back up, holding onto the wall for balance. “You should think about finding a new jackass to follow around.” 

“You think I have any more choice in this than you?” 

“Jean?” Kevin asked before immediately throwing up. Nicky cursed and grabbed Kevin’s shoulder.  

“Woah, what the hell?” Matt said. 

“Come on, duckies, time to waddle off,” Neil stumbled over. It was only minor blood loss, maybe a tiny concussion, and a brief panic attack but the world was still wobbling. 

“You’re going to die,” Jean said again, his voice sure and quiet. He had let Aaron sneak up on Riko, he had to have. 

“Shocking,” Neil mocked. He ushered the team out of the alley. Left Jean behind with an unconscious Riko. 

Neil managed to get his charges onto the subway, still only mildly dizzy. 

Aaron pulled him to the other end of the empty train car, completely unsubtle but thankfully the other guys were still tipsy and scared enough to just let it be. 

“Nathaniel?” Aaron hissed. 

“Shut your whore mouth.” 

“Josten!” 

“Yes, thank you. Josten or Neil, you know my fucking names. That’s great.” 

“Then why was Riko calling you--” 

 “Because Riko is a massive fucking asshole.” 

“Neil, Neil, he’s going to kill Jean!” Kevin despaired in French. 

“Thank you for the assist but please just forget literally everything else, okay?” Neil asked. 

“No, I’m not going to do that!” Aaron argued. 

Neil walked back over to the others. “Why should I care if Riko’s favorite lackey gets murdered?” he asked Kevin in French. 

“Guy, come on,” Nicky complained. 

“Jean is good.” Kevin said with drunken simplicity, still in French. “It’s not his fault, it’s never his fault.” 

You think I have any more choice in this than you?

“How many people are getting sold to this fucking team?” Neil asked. 

“WHAT IS GOING ON?” Nicky yelled. “You two can’t just keep everything to yourselves, not when Riko is showing up in fucking New York, how the hell did he know we were here and Neil you’re bleeding! What happened?” 

Neil dumbly looked down at his dark gray shirt and not seeing any blood pulled it up to check that he was in fact bleeding. 

“What the fuck!” Nicky yelled again. 

“Neil,” Matt said, his eyes wide. “Neil, Nicky was talking about your head.” 

“Oh,” Neil said, dropping his shirt back down. “Well, that’s fine.” 

“What happened?” Nicky asked again. 

“Can we just not?” Neil asked. “I can’t be clever right now, let me stop bleeding first.” 

They made it back to Randy’s apartment and Neil locked himself in the bathroom with a first aid kit, telling everyone to “fuck off or I’ll start biting.” 

He’d gotten the pretty substantial kit out from under the sink and was staring at it. He blinked. He didn’t look in the mirror. He blinked a bit more. The first aid kit did not magically open. He thought about opening the door to ask for alcohol. He blinked. The mirror, he couldn’t look in the mirror. 

There was a knock. “Neil, sweetie, could I come in?” Randy asked through the door. 

Neil blinked and the door was opening, his hand outstretched from unlocking it. 

Randy came into the bathroom and shut the door behind herself, relocking it. “Okay, let’s see what the damage is, huh?” She put the toilet lid down and gestured for Neil to sit down. 

Neil sat down. He missed not being in pain. He missed his mother. 

“Matt didn’t tell me what happened, neither did the others. But he told me about how you swooped in when that gunman showed up at the food drive.” Randy turned on the faucet, ran water over a wash cloth and started to wipe blood from Neil’s face. “Was it something like that?” 

Neil shook his head. 

“Are you naturally quiet or am I just new?” She asked. She dug through the first aid kit and pulled out an ointment. 

“I’m naturally rude and you seem nice.” Neil admitted. 

Randy laughed and dotted something onto his head. “You’re gonna have one hell of a knot up here, sweetheart. Now let’s see the cuts.” 

Neil leaned back a bit and pulled up his shirt just enough for Riko’s work. 

Randy closed her eyes for a moment and then reached for the wash cloth again, kneeling down on the floor. “So, what happened?” She asked. 

“I’m naturally rude,” Neil repeated. 

Randy stood back up to rinse out the wash cloth. “I’ve got the money for a good lawyer, you know. We take some pictures and call this in and I’ll help make sure whoever it was gets put away.” She knelt back down to clean off more blood. 

“Well, we left him unconscious in an alleyway, so it might be fine.” 

“I guess that’s one way of dealing with a problem. You need stitches,” she said. 

Neil looked down at the cuts on his stomach. “No, I don’t, a good bandage and no exy the rest of the week and I’ll be fine.” 

“Neil, sweetheart,” Randy said. “I’m a boxer, I’ve gotten into a lot of scrapes. I’ve never been stabbed and I’m not a doctor and I think that needs stitches, we’re in serious trouble here.” 

“Well, I’ve been stabbed plenty and it’s fine, it already stopped bleeding.” 

“Okay, how about we bandage you up and tomorrow you let me check and reassess then?” She asked. 

“Why are you here?” Neil asked.