Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It had taken four days to drive across the country from Oakland, California, to Palmetto, South Carolina. Four days of baking hot heat with a broken air conditioners in a stolen sedan. Well, three stolen sedans that were shitty enough not to be missed or searched for with any real intentions of retrieving them. Aside from the failing air-cons, they barely pushed the speed limits and Neil was wishing he could get away with stealing something a bit nicer. His intention was to slip under the radar, he couldn’t afford to have his theft be too noticeable. Four days of eating, sleeping, and driving in the small, confined space of the cars. His dental floss stiches were pulling uncomfortably, and his bruised muscles were cramping by the time he pulled into a vacant lot and abandoned the latest car, grabbing his duffle from the passenger seat and slinging it over his shoulder, stretching his muscles as much as he could as he started the slow walk into town.

It was too late to do anything that night. Instead, Neil stopped at the third motel he found only a few miles from Palmetto State University and splurged on a room for the night. A hot shower, a clean bathroom to check his injuries and a soft bed for the night. The dental floss stitches were holding nicely despite Neil’s less than kind treatment to his injuries. They would scar. The one across his arm and shoulder was an absolute mess. The man had shattered a glass vase and used it like a beer bottle, tearing through his skin with jutted edges in a single harsh blow, he had spent over an hour picking out pieces of glass and sewing it back up as best he could on his own before he could clean the crime scene and remove all traces of his involvement. It was almost a week now, five days was close enough, right? Since he had received the wounds and they were healing well even with the continued abuse to his body. His eyebrow was no longer swollen, and the scab was clean and dry, though his face, and body, were a myriad of colours that would take a few more days before they begun to fade.

He should really wait to heal a bit more before tracking Andrew down, but there was something fitting about showing up after four years in the same bruised and battered way in which they parted. Neil hoped Andrew would still recognise him. He hadn’t changed that much since they had last seen each other, he had grown, changed his hair colour, changed his eye colour and added countless scars to the jigsaw puzzle across his skin. Let’s face it; he was a mess. But that wasn’t anything new. Maybe he should wait another week. He should. He wasn’t going to. His desperate need to have someone see him, to know his story before he moved on, was impossible to ignore and Andrew was the only person who he could confide in. The only person he trusted to know the real him and not rat him out or use it against him.

Palmetto State Foxes. Neil had seen Andrew Doe written into the paper when he had returned to the states, his name was among twenty high schoolers featured in the article as the up and coming faces of Exy. His heart had picked up into a frantic beat when he read through the article. Andrew Doe had started playing Goalie in Oakland high, only a few months after Neil had left, and since moved to Columbia High. Neil had ducked into an alleyway and hidden behind a dumpster to memorise every word in it, completely unable to hide his grin at seeing his only friend labelled one of the best, the whole world should know how incredible Andrew was and Neil was overjoyed that he was making a name for himself. He had to ditch the paper and spend an extra hour walking the streets before he could face his mother again. If she caught a whiff of his good mood she wouldn’t rest until she found out why and managed to punish him for it. He would choose to take the punishment for being late over risking having her find out about his friendship with Andrew every single day, there would be no telling what she would have done if she knew all the details he had given out about their lives, or the risks he had taken to help him.

While they were hiding in Seattle, before his fathers people had caught up to them again, he had seen the announcement come through on the sports channel in a dingy little diner with a small tv mounted in the corner. Andrew Doe had been signed to Palmetto State University, the dead last Foxes, of all the teams who had made and offer. The presenters had taken a moment to discuss him in particular, noting that Kevin Day and Riko Moriyama had personally tried to recruit him months before and had been shot down for reasons unknown. It hadn’t been just the Ravens either, each of the top three in NCAA Class I Exy had put their best offers forward in an attempt to claim the Goalie. Despite his past. Another thing that had been mentioned in the discussion, Andrew’s violent tendencies and recent arrest for beating four men unconscious outside of a nightclub and his subsequent court ordered therapy, had been laid out as the reasons behind picking the Foxes who were known for taking in rough backgrounds, though the presenters firmly believed he had just buried his future with the decision. Neil could understand not wanting to go to the Ravens, but Andrew wasn’t aware of their connections to organised crime, and the Trojans were in California, he had always spoken about getting out of that state and never going back, but Penn State was the last of the Big Three and would have taken him in a heartbeat. Their facilities were on par with the Trojans and they had the ability to offer Andrew more than the Foxes ever could. Maybe he would ask about that. Tomorrow.

-

He didn’t make it to Palmetto until after lunch, sleeping far longer than his usual dawn waking for the first time in years, he put it down to the fact that he hadn’t stopped to rest, really rest, since before leaving Seattle five weeks prior. He had funnelled all of his energy into getting his mother and himself to California, only to bury her there, and then spending his time hunting down those worthy of him taking his furious grief out on, only to jump straight back in the car and start a cross country trip. Running away from any suspicions of his crimes in California and running towards the only person who didn’t flinch away when they saw what he was capable off.

He had stuck to hitchhiking his way to campus, not wanting to draw attention by stealing yet another car, to find the campus almost completely deserted. The seven cars parked in the Foxhole lot were the only signs that the team were here for pre-season training, the pink convertible and black sports car screaming money beside the other older looking cars and trucks that fitted in better with the Foxes public face. Neil had checked and double checked the dates and re-assured himself that Andrew was in this building, today, right now.

He paused at the secured gate for a moment to check over his shoulder for any signs of life watching him before scaling the fence and dropping quickly to the other side, ignoring the hot pull in his muscles and touching his wounds gently to make sure he hadn’t torn a stich as he moved to the building door. He didn’t think he had. For the building he dropped to his knees and pulled out his lockpicks, huffing at the ease in which he was able to break-in to a supposedly secure facility. Truly pathetic. He reminded himself not to complain, it made his day easier than having to find his way through a decent set up.

Neil walked through the quiet halls making a map in his head of every turn he took and every camera placement he found on his way, plotting three different escape routes by the time he made it to the edge of the court. Hiding himself in the shadows of the entrance of the stands to watch the mess of a team scream at each other on court. The division in the team was striking, every time two Foxes started in on each other the rest of the court seemed to step forward picking sides with the ease of continued practice with only three players holding their places on court. Numbers three, five and eight. Andrew. They had announced him as their new number three. Neil couldn’t see him clearly from where he stood on the other side of the field, but he could tell from his stance that he was less than impressed with his new teammates, leaning on his racket or twirling it absently as he watched the drama unfold before him. It wasn’t until one of the strikers started in on number eight did Andrew step foot out of his box. One hard shove to number eights chest had Andrew darting forward with explosive anger, dropping the larger man with a single hit, the moment he was on the floor Andrew threw himself at the man again, straddling his body and laying hit after hit on his helmet, it took three guys to pull Andrew off and the moment they let him go he walked straight back to the goal with calm indifference. It wasn’t till Andrew was back in goal that Neil realised number five hadn’t moved. So, Andrew was connected to number eight, but number five was separate. Interesting.

Neil had an idea. An incredibly stupid idea. Something he really shouldn’t do, but the idea made him smile, so he back tracked through the stadium and hoped Andrew wouldn’t hate him. It took him ten minutes to find the back entrance to the commentators’ box and less than ten seconds to pick the lock. He didn’t bother with the lights as he dropped his duffle and scanned the equipment, checking all the dials before turning his attention back to the practice below him. Another two minutes and another striker broke through the defensive line and took a shot on him. Andrew changed his stance with lightning speed and precision, firing the ball straight back to the way it came to the unprotected stomach of number six. Neil laughed as the striker doubled over on court, dialling the sound system right down before switching it on to avoid any blasts of static through the speakers.

He leant forward on the desk next to the microphone and fixed his eyes on Andrew as he dialled the sound up before speaking. “I don’t know, Drew. You turned down Penn State for this?”

The players on court froze as his voice echoed through the stadium, Andrews head snapped to the box where Neil was standing in the dark, he wondered if they would see him at that distance. He doubted it.

“They’re the ‘dead last Foxes’ for a reason, Drew.” Neil continued, hoping it would be enough for Andrew to recognise who he was. “I haven’t seen a single play that’s worthy of being in Class I, how long do you think it will take before they demote the team to Class II?”

The rest of the team were looking up at the box now, moving into their divided groups as they tried to work out what was going on. Number five stood alone, his head twisting between where Andrew stood and where Neil was hidden away in the dark box above them.

“Your strikers are aggressive and sloppy. Your backliners are slow and lacking footwork. And they don’t get along well enough to score a single goal… Nice hit by the way.” He grinned watching the confusion unfold. “I’m curious to hear what he said to get your attention.”

The ball had been lost, thrown across the court as the practice came to a halt. Andrew had dropped his racket next to the goal and was taking his helmet off to look up at the box while the Coach threw the door open and strolled across the court to look up at the interruption, loudspeaker in hand.

“This is a private practice!” The Coach growled through the microphone. “You need to leave.”

Andrew, helmet dangling from his hand, met the Coach across the floor and snatched the loudspeaker out of his hand, passing his helmet over in trade. Neil couldn’t tell what happened next, but he watched as something was exchanged between Andrew and the Coach, looking like an intense staring contest, before the Coach took a step back and Andrew raised his face to the box again.

“Still a junkie.” Andrew said into the speaker.

“Did you expect any different?” Neil quipped, grinning ear to ear knowing Andrew recognised him.

“I thought you’d be dead by now?” Andrew cocked his head in confusion, keeping his eyes on the box.

Neil pulled back from the microphone to laugh, the last remaining tensions leaving his body as the sound reverberated around the stadium. “Not yet!”

“Then get your ass down here and talk to me like a normal person, you dramatic asshole.” Neil sighed as dramatically as possible just to annoy him further.  “Don’t make me drag you down here!”

“Fine!” Neil huffed, dialling the system down and switching it off. He picked up his duffle and left through the door that opened into the stands. The whole team watched him as he jogged his way down the stairs. Andrew passed the speaker back to the Coach and made his way off the court to a chorus of shouts, jogging to meet Neil halfway up the outer court and watching as he jumped over the divide to meet him.

Andrew had grown up too. Long gone was the skinny kid who would rock back and forth on his heels deciding whether to lash out or run away at each moment. Now, everything about him was harder, from the lines in his face to the thick muscles showing through his uniform. Neil was surprised to find that he wasn’t the one who needed to look up anymore, where he had always found himself the smallest in a group, Andrew was several inches below his 5’3. Giving Neil the perfect view of Andrews sweaty blond hair as he studied him with stern hazel eyes.

Andrew grabbed his chin, tilting his head to each side slowly, studying the colourful bruising across his face. Neil didn’t bother stopping him, he would have reached out to check if Andrew was really there if Andrew wouldn’t have killed him for the unwanted touch, instead he took comfort in Andrew’s hands on his skin as they stared at each other.

“Who did you piss off this time?”

Neil shrugged, not wanting to discuss that yet. “A few people.” He admitted. “It’s been a long few weeks.”

Andrew hummed in response and let his fingers drop from Neil’s face, eyeing the baggy t-shirt he wore and the bruises on his bare arms that could be matched to a much larger hand. He kept his touch light as he grabbed Neil’s fingers and turned his arms over one by one, looking at the full extent of the damage visible over his exposed skin. His eyes lingered on the shirt and Neil knew that he was thinking about what else could be hidden beneath it.

“How long do you have?” Andrew asked quietly, ignoring the teammates spilling out of the court doors behind him to get a look at the stranger interrupting their practice. Neil looked at him quizzically, unsure what he was being asked. “Before you have to get back?” Andrew elaborated.

“Oh,” he said in understanding. “I, ah… Don’t. I don’t have anywhere to get back to.” He bit back the quick spark of grief and shifted his eyes to the group watching them, they were back far enough to miss what they were saying as long as it was quiet, whispering to themselves about the bruised kid that had shown up to search out Andrew.

“Is this,” Andrew gestured to his face. “Connected?”

“Indirectly.” Neil nodded slowly, weighing his words as he spoke. “This was more… therapeutical, afterwards.”

Andrew considered the statement and glanced back at the Foxes. “Does that mean your sticking around long enough to talk after I finish here?”

“I was hoping you’d let me stick around for a day or two. While I figure out what to do next.”

“Do you have somewhere to stay?” Andrew asked cutting to the chase.

“I stayed at a motel in Palmetto last night.” Neil shrugged. “I’m good at finding places to be.”

Andrew growled quietly but didn’t respond when his Coach cut in behind him. “Andrew, you mind keeping your personal life off my court? We have a practice happening here.”

Neil shifted his weight, looking around Andrew and glaring at the Coach, Andrew turned to follow his line of sight looking over the rest of the Foxes confused expressions before settling his gaze on the Coach.

“Fine.” He shooed them back to the court and grabbed the strap of Neils duffle to pull him along behind him. Neil followed without argument, unsure of where they were going but happy that Andrew hadn’t demanded that he leave. Andrew pulled him into the team box on the side of the court where his Coach was dropping the loudspeaker on the bench and picking up his clipboard. Andrew pushed him gently towards the seats, when Neil sat down Andrew pointed a finger in his face. “Stay here, runaway.”

Neil held his hands up in surrender, biting back a laugh as Andrews coach glared at them.

“This is still a private practice.” Coach warned, his voice showing that he wasn’t about to push the matter.

Andrew turned on him anyway, with a quick gesture to Neil and a bland stare. “Does he look like he’s spying on our training methods?”

The Coach’s gaze lingered on Neil’s face before settling on the handprint bruise on his arm. “No more interruptions.”

“Sure.” Neil grinned unapologetically turning to watch Andrew pull his helmet on. “How’s it feel to be an Exy prodigy?”

Andrew shook his head and turned to the door. “I should have joined the soccer team.”

Neil chuckled as he watched Andrew walk onto the court, shutting the door behind him and heading back to his place in the goalies box.

Practice continued in the same way it had gone when Neil first arrived, the only change was the frequency of glances being shot in his direction. Neil ignored the strange looks and got up, moving to the far side of the box, away from the large pacing Coach, to watch the game. He missed it. Being in the thick of the action, pushing players back across the floor and being part of those quick plays to help his team score. It had been seven years since he picked up a racket and staring at the gleaming court with these players taking for granted the freedom of the sport they were playing in favour of indulging in petty differences was pulling up a trench full of loss that he had been suppressing for years. 17. He was 17 and he had one friend in the entire world and no other reason to keep moving his feet. Regardless of the promises his mother had pulled from him with harsh hands over the years, he had no reason to keep moving only to avoid death a little longer. Where had it gotten his mother? A cold grave and no headstone. And that’s where he would end up too, if he couldn’t find a way to change things.

“Have you…” The Coach shot him a look that managed to pull him out of his thoughts. “Have you seen anyone about that?” He asked gesturing to his own face.

“I’m fine.” Neil responded automatically, turning back to the game where the dealers were shoving at each other.

“We have a team nurse who could take a look at you if you need help.” He offered.

Neil studied the man. All 6’5 and nothing but muscles and tattoos. There was a hesitancy in the mans eyes that softened his hard look, but Neil had no desire to trust a man that looked like he could pick up and break every player on his team without breaking a sweat.

“I’m fine.” He repeated firmly. The last thing he needed were people prying into how he had gotten his injuries, even medical types were required to report murder, and Neil was ready to put California behind him for good. Short of any questions Andrew might ask about it, he had no reason to mention his involvement there, after all, Neil Josten had technically never been to California.

“You follow Exy?” The Coach asked when the silence stretched out for several minutes. Neil rolled his eyes. Of course he followed Exy, how else could he point out the faults in this team.

“Sure.”

“You play?”

Neil stiffened, it was too soon after losing his mum, he was too close to a court to be able hide behind a lie. He ignored the question instead. Fixing his attention on Andrew who was twirling his racket through the air in boredom, waiting for the ball to head down to his end again, helping him to relax. It was reassuring to know that Andrews apathy towards the world around them hadn’t changed, very few were worthy of his undivided attention.

The silence stretched out until someone on court, Neil was presuming to be the Captain, called for a water break and the whole team came swarming through the doors, dropping their gear and chasing down their water bottles. Neil grabbed his duffle again and moved to the corner out of the way to wait for Andrew who was one of the last through the door. The woman who called the water break, wearing the number one jersey, stopped in front of him before he could move to Andrews side.

“Dan Wilds,” she introduced herself holding out her hand, Neil shook it hesitantly. “What brings you to the Foxhole?”

“Just passing through.” He shifted to look over her shoulder to see almost every player staring at him besides the one he wanted, Andrew was hidden somewhere behind the taller Foxes talking quietly to the Coach. “Thought I’d stop in and see an old friend.”

Dan huffed a laugh, followed by a few of the players listening in to the conversation. “Andrew, Doe?” She raised a sceptical brow. “I’ve heard him called a lot of things over the past few months but ‘friend’ has never been one of them.”

Neil turned a cold look on her, managing to look down his nose at her even with the few inches of height she had on him. “Well now you have.”

“What happened?” The guy beside her smirked as his eyes roamed Neils bruises. “Daddy didn’t beat you up enough, so you decided to have Doe finish the job?”

Neil recognised him as the striker Andrew had hit the ball into earlier, number six, and had to bite the inside of his cheek to stop his fathers bloodthirsty smile from taking over his face. “I’d have trouble accepting the first competent player on your team if my skills were as poor as yours too.”

Neil watched his dull face morph into understanding, laughing when two pairs of hands grabbed the guy as he cocked an arm back with the intention of throwing a punch at him. With a guy on each arm number six was pulled away, making a space that Neil was planning to use to escape the conversation before Andrew stepped neatly into it, helmet and racket discarded, shooting a look at his agitated teammates and turning his attention on Neil.

“Searching for trouble already?”

Neil grinned at him, his mood buoyed by Andrews presence alone. “I rarely have to search.”

While Neil was distracted by the amused twitch of Andrews lips, two players stepped up either side of Andrew, boxing him in further.

“Damn,” the new guy said looking Neil over. “That looks worse up close.”

“Nicky.” Andrew warned. Neil looked at the guy, noting the number eight jersey, the same guy Andrew had stepped in for on court. He was a good head taller than Neil was with dark skin and long hair pulled back into a band.

“Friend of yours?” Neil questioned lightly.

“Cousin.” Andrew returned blankly.

“You got adopted?” Andrew nodded. “I guess that explains how you ended up in Columbia.”

“And how do you know my little cousin, ah…?” Nicky looked back at Andrew. “You haven’t introduced us.”

“Yes, what is your name?” Dan asked folding her arms as Andrew ignored the question. “And how did you get in here?”

Neil glanced over at her, but his attention stuck on the other guy that had walked over with Nicky. He blinked in surprise, his eyes flicking between Andrew and number five, trying to comprehend why there was an angrier version of Andrew standing next to the original.

“Did you get adopted by a mad scientist purely for the sake of making a B grade clone?” The clone sneered at him and Andrew failed to answer, looking back at him evenly as Nicky fidgeted.

“Ah, no.” Nicky said uncomfortably. “They’re twins and I’m their cousin on their mother’s side.”

“Huh,” Neil considered noting the lack of similarities between the cousins in almost every respect and looking back to Andrews bored expression. “I guess we have a lot to catch up on.”

“It would seem so.” Andrew drawled, glancing around the room at the dwindling Foxes as they moved into the building or back out onto the court to make the most of their break.

“You missed the introduction.” Dan prompted, glaring at them in annoyance.

“Right,” Neil agreed, looking over at Dan. “It’s Neil.”

“Neil?”

“Josten. My name is Neil Josten.”

“And what? You decided to break in here just to disrupt our practice and bad mouth our skills?” She demanded, pinning him with a stern look that made Neil want to laugh.

“What skills.” Dans jaw dropped as Neil turned his attention back to Andrew, done with talking to people he hadn’t come here for. “Seriously, I get the ‘no’ to the Ravens and the ‘no’ to the Trojans, but if you’re going to play Exy why would you turn down Penn State for the dead last Foxes?”

Andrew closed his eyes and let out a slow breath through his nose before looking at Neil again. “Junkie.” He said with a twitch in his mouth as he reached to grab Neils wrist, tugging on it gently and leading the way out onto the court where half the team were spread out and chatting in small groups as they rested. Neil was glad when the other players hung back and let them leave without comment. They got halfway across the court, out of hearing range from the other Foxes, before Andrew spoke again. “It wasn’t about me.”

Neil pulled his attention back from the view of the stadium from the court floor and slowed his pace as they continued their way to the far edges of the court. “What was it about then?”

Andrew fell into step beside him, glancing back at the team and deciding that they were far enough away to continue. “I never gave a shit about college, it’s not like it was ever an option for a foster kid, I was more than happy to work the bar and have the world leave me the fuck alone after high school. But, Aaron and Nicky both had plans that neither of them could afford. Nicky and his boyfriend were trying to put money aside to send Nicky to college in Germany, so he could look at a job in marketing one day. Aaron wants to be a Doctor, and even with the life insurance from his mother, he’d be in six figure debt by the end of school.”

Neil shook his head, unable to relate the information to how or why Andrew would agree to college Exy anywhere, let alone here. “I don’t understand.”

Andrew stopped in the corner kicking the wall lightly before turning around leaning his back on it, Neil mimicked his position on the other side of the corner, pulling his duffle off his shoulder and dropping it between them, keeping his attention on his friend rather than the curious looks that were being shot at them across the floor. “I turned down the other schools because they all promised the same thing, get me on their team and train me up for the pro-league, promised me big money on the other side and a chance at court. I don’t care about any of that, and they all would have expected me to work my ass off to make it happen. Wymack didn’t try any of that. He walked in with three full scholarships and said five years. Five years of minimum effort on his team and all three of us walk out with a degree. Nicky gets what he needs to move to Germany without debt and build his life with Erik. Aaron gets his pre-med program paid for in full and can use his money to pay for med school afterwards.”

“And you?” Neil questioned, unhappy with how the conversation had been focused on Andrew providing for others rather than himself. “What do you get?”

Andrew shrugged. “Time.” He said simply, glancing over to his family. “I get a degree and five years to figure out what to do next.”

Neil hummed in acceptance, unsure with how to respond to that admittance, he would much rather hear Andrew tearing apart one team or other to define his choices not the idea that he could help his family with no other benefits to his own life or happiness. Not that Neil’s life was an example for how to live, but he had hoped that Andrew would have more enjoyment in his life now. It was stupid to think that Andrew had found happiness playing Exy.

Andrew cut through his thoughts with a new question. “Where were you before you got here?”

“California.” Andrew shot him a look of pure disgust that had Neil choking on a laugh. “It’s not like I planned to go back!” He grinned, raising his hands in defence. “It’s just where I happened to end up.”

“Why?”

“Ah…” Neil faltered, looking around at the team making the most of their break in different sections of the court. “That’s not something we should talk about here.”

“Later?” Andrew asked looking across to the two teammates that were approaching with angry expression painted across their faces.

“Later.” Neil agreed following his line of sight and sizing the two guys up. “When we’re alone. What’s with these assholes?”

Andrew hummed in thought, his eyes gluing themselves to the two strikers that were approaching across the floor. Neil recognised them as the same ones that had been causing issues during the practice.

“We’ve conveniently painted ourselves into a corner.” Andrew commented slowly, his muscles tensing in spite of his bored exterior. “I haven’t finished establishing myself here; this could be interesting.”

“They must be stupider than they look then.” Neil watched as the men approached them, taking in the swollen jaw on one that had come from Andrews intervention earlier. “Do you want me in on this?”

“Not if it turns physical.” Andrew brushed him off as he assessed the pair stalking towards them. “They need to know what I can do on my own. If you want to help, you can keep the rest of the team back when they try to run interference.”

Neil turned his attention to the rest of the team who seemed to pick up on the intentions of their two strikers as well. A few were now watching the inevitable clash from a distance, while others were starting to drift their way, either getting ready to help one side or the other, or getting ready to tear them apart.

“Sure.” Neil agreed, thinking about the gun tucked away in his duffle and deciding that it would be best if he left it there. Andrew was establishing a pecking order here, not looking to murder the team he had just signed his family to. “Who are they?”

“Brian Seth Gordon, number six. Fourth year senior, homophobe and all around dick. James Christian Davies, number 13. Same fourth year, looking to graduate this year, total dickhead, I’m not sure how he managed to pass enough courses to graduate when he’s as dull as a brick.”

“Great.”

Gordon and Davies stopped within six-feet from them, spreading out to pen them into the corner, neither of the would be able to move without coming into arms reach of either man.

“Did you think you could just come in here and bitch about us like that?” Gordon demanded from Neil, rubbing his hands together in an attempt to intimidate them with his size. Andrew glanced over at him, reassessing their intentions.

Neil had to bite his cheek to keep from laughing. “Well, you made it so easy that I couldn’t resist!”

“What would you know about Exy?” Davies sneered down at him. “We’re on a class I team and you’re just some guys punching bag.”

“Well, when you’re right, you’re right.” Neil hummed in amusement. “But you’re here playing on a no-nothing team that has yet to see a single death match. I would have thought that three years of training in Class I would have seen some improvement in your skills but you’re still playing like a bunch of argumentative high schoolers.”

“How about you put your money where your mouth is!” Gordon bristeled, barely containing the urge to hit the bruised kid standing in front of him.

“How long did it take you to come up with that one?” Neil snarked, eyeing up the man almost a full foot taller than him. “Watch too many tough guy movies as a kid?”

“You and me. Right here right now.” Gordon pointed to the court. “Winner take all.”

Neil watched the way he gestured to the court and huffed. “We’re not playing for anything, dickhead!” He pushed off the wall and took a look around the court, noting how close the rest of the team had gotten to watch the exchange; Andrew was alternating glares at them both, clearly disapproving of where this conversation was going. “I don’t have any gear, if we do this, we play by backyard rules. Don’t worry, I let you keep your armour on.”

“Backyard rules?” Davies questioned in disgust.

“Unless you want to let your Coach know what’s going on by finding some gear for me?”

“Fine.” Gordon agreed. “We’ll start on the quarter line. When I score, you admit that you don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about and stay out of the Foxhole for good.”

“And when you fail, you admit that you can’t play for shit, and I continue to do whatever the fuck I like.” Neil chuckled at the dark looks the two strikers were sending him. Andrew shook his head slightly, letting Neil know he wasn’t happy with the impromptu competition, as he glared at the strikers as well.

Backyard rules were pretty simple. No rackets and two players, one on defence, one on offence. Offence starts with the ball and has to get around the defence to score on the goal, bouncing the ball every ten steps in accordance with Exy rules. Point to the offence if they score, or a point to defence if they secure the ball and race it back to the starting line. In actually friendly games played by kids in real backyards, the offence and defence would switch after each round. He didn’t think that would be the case here.

 Davies tossed Gordon a ball and Neil took his place in front of him. Neil watched the rest of the team in the corner of his eye as he kept his focus on Gordon, they were moving up the court slowly, interested in seeing him and Seth go head-to-head. Davies called the signal to start and Gordon surged forward, attempting to bulldoze straight through Neil, the same move all larger opponents tried when they saw how small he was. Neil met him head on, planting his feet and pushing his shoulder up into Seth’s chest, forcing him back a few steps. Gordon startled for a second before twisting and trying to pass Neil on the outside. He wasn’t expecting Neil to be quick on his feet. Seth had just bounced the ball when he found Neil pushing him back again, fumbling the catch and chasing after it. Neil didn’t chase the ball but he dogged Seth’s steps, ignoring the sharp pain from his wounds in favour of enjoying the rush of the game, grinning madly as he stepped in Seth’s way the moment he picked up the ball again.

“Come on Seth!” Someone yelled from the side-lines as Neil blocked him again, throwing his body behind the hit and sending Seth to the floor. “Get up, man!”

Neil chuckled at their onlookers as he waited for Seth the roll to his feet. Andrew was on the sidelines watching him with a predatory gaze, searching for any signs of injury that Neil might let slip. Seth climbed to his feet, bouncing the ball on the ground as Neil kept his distance, and assessed how far he was from the goal. Neil could see the way he calculated his throw, planning in his head how far he needed to get to score, and decided to end it quickly now. As much fun as it was to push Exy players around a court, he still had a point to prove, he could hear Andrew’s chiding in his head already.

Neil let Seth run until he pulled his hand back for the throw, jumping in his way as he released the ball and knocking it in the other direction. Chasing the ball across the court before Seth realised what had happened, catching it just feet away from the quarter mark and making it across the line before his ten steps were up.

He bounced the ball between his hands as Seth fumed. “Aggressive and sloppy!” He reiterated with the whole teams eyes on him. “And I haven’t played in years.”

“Two out of three.” Seth demanded, rippling with anger.

“Trying to save face in front of your friends?” Neil taunted smoothly. “It might be a bit late for that.”

“What the fuck is your problem, kid?” Dan called from the sidelines.

“Problem?” Neil questioned glancing over at her and gesturing to Seth. “I’m not the one setting the challenge!”

 “Chicken shit!”

Neil sighed, looking across to Andrew. “Are they always such dicks?”

“Yes.” Andrew reiterated with a bored flick of his fingers.

“Tell me again why you picked this team.” He said drily as he spotted the Coach stepping through the court door to see what was going on. “Fine.” He told Seth, tossing the ball back to him and switching positions.

Neil stretched his shoulders out as far as he could without letting the wince of pain show on his face, Andrews eyes narrowed on him anyway, but he didn’t say anything. Neil shifted his weight from foot to foot as he waited for Seth to start the game again, determined to end it quickly for the weak insult. Seth had the same thought, lobbing the ball high over Neil’s head and forcing him to chase it down the court and snatch it from the air before it hit the goal. Putting Neil on the back-foot as he faced to task of getting past Seth and back to the line. He raced forward, ducking and twisting below Seth’s arms on his way back. A second from having a clear shot to the line Seth caught the back of his shirt, using it to throw him to the ground. Neil felt the moment of impact amplified as the stitches in his shoulder ripped open at the contact with the floor. A painful, hot gush of blood let him know how bad the damage would be as he forced himself up to finish the match. He kept out of arm’s length after that, running Seth off his feet and taking the long way around his mark. Racing past the line and throwing the ball down court in frustration.

“Again.” Seth demanded.

“No!” Andrew declared walking calmly into the space with a firm look at Neil.

He straightened up to hide the urge to grab his shoulder. “I’m fine.”

“You’re injured.” Andrew stated as he reached them. The Coach stepped forward through the other players as well.

“Not badly.” Neil pouted. Andrew grabbed his arm with a growl squeezing his bicep with his fingers, moving his hand up when Neil didn’t react. “Are you done?” Neil questioned stubbornly.

Andrew caught the feel of the bandage under his shirt and traced it quickly over the top of his shoulder, digging his fingers into the wound with vicious accuracy.

“Ow, you rat bastard!” Neil cursed as he twisted out of Andrews grip.

“Tell me you’re fine, one more time!” Andrew threatened as Coach reach them.

“Is he alright?” Wymack asked.

“Yes.” Neil stated the same moment Andrew said, “No!”

“Martyr.” Andrew commented drily.

“Prick.” Neil shot back with a grin, enjoying the easy banter as he pressed a hand to his shoulder to ease the sting.

“Would you stop bickering like children and tell me what’s going on?” Wymack said as the rest of the team dispersed and Dan walked up beside them to listen in. Aaron and Nicky huddled together on the side of the court watching them, Neil, carefully.

“We need to borrow Abby’s room.” Andrew said while Neil was distracted trying to work out what the twin’s problem was. “How bad is it?” He asked poking Neil in the arm.

Neil scowled at him, rubbing the top of his shoulder and wondering if Andrew was any good with a needle, stitching up the back of his shoulder was hard enough the first-time round.

“I tore the stitches open.” He admitted with a careful look at Andrew’s blank face. “I could use some help.”

“I can call Abby.” Wymack offered reaching for his phone.

“Not necessary, Coach.” Andrew told him.

“Who?” Neil asked.

“The team Nurse.” Dan contributed, crossing her arms with a worried look. “She can help.”

“No.” Andrew reiterated dangerously.

“Don’t do that.” Neil shook his head, glancing at Andrew.

“You need a medical professional to put stitches in.” Dan argued. “Who did you get to put them in the first time?”

Wymack quietly studied the pair of them while the held a silent conversation. Andrew knew why he couldn’t go to a medic, short of dodgy doctors who sold their practices to anyone with enough money to ensure their silence. Neil hadn’t been to a doctor since he broke his arm in Venice, he didn’t even go to one when he was shot, everything else he could take care of himself.

“I should go.” Neil held out his hand for his duffle, still slung over Andrew’s shoulder.

Andrew moved, not to hand him his bag, but to twist his fingers in Neil’s oversized shirt at the waist and pointed a finger in his face. “You are not leaving yet.” He said turning to Wymack. “And you’re not calling Abby.”

Neil might have argued, but Andrew was pulling him across the court by his shirt before he could open his mouth and he had to catch up to Andrews side before he pulled the shirt enough to expose his scars to the rest of the team.

“Where are we going?” He asked as they passed Aaron and Nicky on their way off the court.

“Medical room.” Andrew grunted pushing through the door and leading him back to the team room. It didn’t take long to realise that they were being shadowed on their way through. Wymack followed them through with Dan hot on his heels and Andrew paused at a door with a red cross painted on the front of the frosted glass window.

“Are you out of practice?” Neil asked in confusion when Andrew made no move to open the door.

“Best to use keys until the team gets used to me.” Andrew countered quietly as Wymack and Dan caught up to them. “Come on, Coach. I’m getting old here.”

“I’m getting older every time you open your mouth.” Wymack grumbled, pulling a ring of keys from his pocket and selecting the one edged in red on the back. Neil habitually catalogued the movement, filing away information about the number of keys and how many colours where used, at the back of his mind for later use. Andrew, who had already caught on to Coaches system and figured out each keys and its corresponding lock, fixed his stare on Dan instead.

“Something we can help you with Captain?”

“I’m just checking the kid is alright. He shouldn’t have been on the court without clearance.” Dan bit her thumbnail nervously.

“You didn’t have a problem with that before he was hurt.” Andrew shot back evenly as Dan tensed at the accusation.

“I didn’t know he had stitches!”

“You knew he was black and blue. You knew he was playing against a drug addict with serious anger management issues.”

“Seth is clean.” She said tightly. “Abby cleared him.”

“Abby cleared him three weeks ago. How long do you think his sobriety lasts for?”

“Andrew.” Coach warned quietly with a pointed look at Neil who was leaning against the wall with his eyes closed.

Andrew tugged on the hem of Neil’s shirt to claim his attention. “You still with me, Junkie?”

Neil hummed, opening his eyes slowly. “I haven’t gone anywhere.”

“Junkie?” Dan questioned, looking at Neil closely. “And you’re giving Seth crap about drugs?”

“Exy Junkie.” Andrew clarified with a pointed look at Wymack. “He’s a walking rolodex on every professional player in the states.”

“Not just the states.” Neil chuckled. “Although my focus has been on high school and college Exy for the past few months. What made you finally decide that Exy was a worthwhile sport?” Neil slid across the wall to send him a shit-eating grin. Andrew shoved his face away and Neil’s laugh was bright and loud.

“Same reason I kept Doe when I was adopted. I didn’t have any way of checking up on you, did I?” He grumbled folding his arms over his chest.

“Awww…” Neil cooed.

“Shut up.”

“You played Exy for me!” He laughed.

“I will stab you with a scalpel!”

“Scalpel?” He questioned seriously. “What happened to the pen I gave you?”

Andrew slipped two finger under his armband and pulled out the familiar silver pen. “I still have it.”

“I confiscated that!” Wymack pointed at him angrily as he opened the medical room and gestured them in.

“And I took it back.” Andrew shrugged off the accusation and looking at Dan again, shoving the pen back in his arm bands. “Fuck off.”

“I need to know what damage he’s done. He shouldn’t have been out on the court.”

“No.” Andrew challenged her casually. “You want to know.”

“It’s my court!”

“But not your med room.”

“Dan!” Wymack warned, pointing back up the hall towards the court. “Go keep an eye on your team.”

Dan fumed silently, screwing up her nose before turning on her heel and leaving them alone. Only then did Andrew shift from his position and walk into the room. Neil followed him in, looking back uncertainly as Wymack followed them in closing and locking the door behind them.

Andrew shot him a look at the hesitation and dropped the duffle at the end of the plastic coated medical bed. “He’s worried I’m going to steal the drugs.”

“It’s not outside the realm of possibility.” Wymack replied drily. “But I’m more worried about why you haven’t requested Abby?”

“No medical staff.” Neil stated without thinking and Andrew waved a hand at him as if demonstrating his point.

“Fine,” He sighed. “You are aware that I have to stay here and watch. My stadium, my nurses room, my ass.”

“Drew?”

“Consider this a lawyers office, Coach. And you’re the lawyer. Anything seen or heard here doesn’t leave the room.” Andrew explained as he searched through the draws, taking stock of where everything was as Neil pulled the wheelie tray towards the bed and grabbing a bottle of antiseptic from the counter.

“The only thing I need to do is justify the supplies you two use to Abby.” Wymack conceded, holding his hands, palms out, in front of him.

“Do you trust me, Junkie?” Andrew asked grabbing his arm and steering him towards the bed.

Neil frowned at Wymack as he jumped onto the bed and sighed. “Yes.” He said to Andrew. “You need to grab cotton swabs, needle and thread.” He listed as Andrew turned back to the draws fishing out what they need as Neil rambled. “The bandages can wait until were done with the stitches and grab some gloves, unless you want this crap to stain your hands.” He gestured to the antiseptic.

“Anything else?” Andrew asked, grabbing a pair of gloves from the box on the wall.

“Yeah, grab that mirror.” He gestured to the standing mirror next to the sink. “I need to see it properly.”

Andrew grabbed the mirror dropping it on the side of the tray next to the supplies so he could pull the gloves on. Neil shot another look at the Coach who was watching Andrews movements with interest, before pulling his shirt carefully off to avoid upsetting the wound even more. Andrew glanced at him as he kicked to wheelable stool over beside the bed and sat down in front of him to study colourful display of old, new and healing wounds across his torso.

“I thought it was your shoulder.” He accused, his eyes settling on the bandage on his side.

“It is.” Neil pointed to the bandage on his shoulder instead.

Andrew jabbed a finger at his side. “That one is bleeding too.”

Neil twisted slightly to look at the other bandage, frowning at the fresh blood that was showing through the clear plastic covering. “Shit.” He says pressing a hand to it. “I didn’t feel that one.”

“Which one do you want to look at first?”

“Shoulder. The shoulder definitely coped the worst of it.”

Andrew peeled off the mess of bandages on his shoulder, taking a long hard look at the jagged wound underneath and the stitches that had been torn during the brief altercation. “What made this?”

“Glass vase.” Neil admitted. “I’ll tell you about it later. Can you hold the mirror up so I can see how bad it is?”

Andrew picked the mirror up, gauging the angle he’d need to hold it on for Neil to see the wound clearly. Neil followed the movement and gave him the thumbs up when he had the mirror in the right place.

“Coach? Make yourself useful and come hold this.”

Wymack moved to Andrew side taking hold of the mirror and attempting to keep it at the same angle, Andrew steadied his hands to help him before letting go entirely. Neil braced himself when Andrew grabbed his shoulder to keep him still, and watched in the mirror as his other hand hovered over the broken stitches.

“Ready?” Andrew asked quietly.

“Just do it, Drew.” He responded, more surprised by his friends hesitancy than anything, Andrew knew he could handle the pain. Andrew nodded, taking a slow breath before diving in and pulling out the broken, dental floss stitches and looking carefully at the thread he pulled out.

He held up a stitch for Neil to see without the mirror. “Was it minty fresh?”

Neil huffed a pained laugh. “It’s what was available at the time.”

Andrew hummed in return and continued to clean up the wound. “What did you use for antiseptic? And it was five stitches in this one.”

Neil rolled his eyes but didn’t argue with the count. “Vodka. The easiest thing to come across.”

“How do you manage that at your age?”

“Easy. Find a drunk, give them fifty in exchange for a bottle of vodka, they will always come out with several bottles and hand you the smallest cheapest vodka they can find. No questions asked.”

“And if they don’t. If they decide to keep it for themselves?”

“You make them.” He deadpanned.

“You know that Abby keeps local on hand, right?” Wymack cut in. “Why don’t you use that before you do anything with that.” He gestured to the circular needle on the tray.

“What’s local?” Neil asked.

“Anaesthetic.”

“Never had it.” Neil dismisses, missing Wymacks pained expression.

“Because Abby has paperwork to fill out every time she uses crap like that.” Andrew explained pinning Wymack with a stern look. “How would she explain a few missing doses?”

“Tell her it was for one of the Foxes.”

“She’d follow up and no-one here is willing to lie for me.” Andrew brushes off the suggestion, dropping the bloodied swab and turning his attention to threading the needle as Neil glanced in the mirror to look at the freshly cleaned wound.

“Not even the cousin?” Neil asks before he can bite his tongue, thinking about how the clone hadn’t even walked over to check on Andrew.

“Nicky is willing to omit, but he won’t lie outright.”

“You give people too much of yourself.” He really needed to stop talking, but it was taking his mind off Andrew threading the needle.

“Isn’t that what you do for family?”

“Outside of life-or-death situations, family doesn’t mean shit, it’s just blood. What did family ever get you, Drew? It sure as shit didn’t give me anything.”

“Ever the pessimist.” Andrew stated, wiping his wound down with yellow antiseptic and tossing the used cotton swab on top of the bloody pile on the tray.

“Realist.” Neil countered, twisting enough to look at Andrews face. “I don’t get your optimism. I hope it works out for you, I do, but I don’t understand it.”

“I’m about to stab you.” He said holding up the needle, now threaded with dissolvable thread. “Now would be a great time to shut up.” Neil frowned and went back to his original position, allowing Andrew to work while Neil used the mirror to guide him through it.

“Don’t puncture the same holes but use them as a guide. See how far from the cut I did mine? That’s what you’re aiming for. Move the skin with your finger and feel how deep you need to go, try not to pierce the muscle.” Neil watched as Andrew took in his words, following the instructions and feeling through the skin before resting the needle against it. Neil clenched his right fist against the pain, keeping his left loose to stop his shoulder from tensing, and breathing slowly as Andrew pulled the cut together and pierced the skin. “That’s good.” He encouraged with a tight voice. “Don’t pull it all the way through, you want to leave an inch to help you tie it off at the end.”

“I need scissors.”

“Tie it off first.” Neil watched in the mirror as Andrew drew the skin together and tied off the thread, being careful to knot it so it wouldn’t come undone. “That’s good.”

“Third draw, Coach.” Andrew instructed, holding his hands up to show the dirty gloves. “There are scissors in there, grab a set for me.”

Wymack sat the mirror down on the bed behind him and went to find them. Handing them to Andrew with a tight expression as he caught sight of the scarred mess across Neil’s chest and stomach.

“It’s rude to stare.” Neil told him flatly.

Andrew looked up to watch the exchange as Wymack studied the different marks across his body and settling on the iron burn on the other shoulder. “You have somewhere safe to go, kid?”

“Safe?” Neil huffed as Andrew started the next stitch. “There is no safe place, Coach.”

Wymack ran a hand over his jaw as Neil stared him down.

“Any idea where the prick is?” Andrew interrupted, tying off the second stich as he spoke.

 Neil tore his gaze away from the Coach to think over the question. “I knew where he was a month ago but I haven’t had a chance to check the news for a few days,” he hedged neatly, knowing that Andrew would pick up on the hesitancy. “Last thing I saw was an article about him getting investigated for dodgy business practices, tax fraud and shit like that.” He laughed lightly, trying not to shake his shoulder. “Can you imagine, all this time, all the crap he’s done and they get him on falsified paperwork. Unbelievable! Hopefully it’s enough to tie him up at the house for a while.”

“Anything about you in the news?” Andrew asked, threading the next stitch.

“Mom and I are missing and presumed dead.” Neil shook his head. “Well, that’s half right, now.” He sighed; Andrew hummed lightly but didn’t comment. “He is named as a person of interest in the case, but they don’t have anything to go on.”

“So, your dad is tied up for a while, your mom is gone… What are your options now?” Andrew asked softly.

Neil shrugged, earning a finger jab to the back from Andrew for moving. “Sorry!” He said quickly. “I don’t know what to do now… I should probably finish high school. I guess.”

“You’re still in high school?” Wymack broke in, reminding them both of the mans presence. “How old are you?”

Andrew cleared his throat and held up the mirror for Neil to see the finished result. Neil looked at the wound, re-sewn with six stitches instead of five, closing it more neatly than Neil had managed on his own. Neil nodded in satisfaction. “It’s good.” He told Andrew. “Just have to bandage it up again and we’re done.”

“And then we look at the other one.” Andrew countered, peeling the gloves off and getting up to search for where Abby kept the dressings.

“How old?” Wymack demanded, running a hand nervously through his hair.

“Does it matter?” Neil rolled his eyes.

“It does if you’re a minor!” He sighed as he paced the end of the room while Andrew cut into several bandages to arrange them over the wound without the tape sticking to the stitches, and covering it up.

“Good thing I’m not a minor then.” Neil lied, ignoring Andrews raised eyebrow and focusing on Wymacks disbelieving look. “Did you want to check my ID.”

Wymack looked like he was about to demand just that, so Neil pulled his wallet out of his pocket and tossed it at the man, glad that he had thought to purchase the fake ID before he left California. The ID listed his place of residence as Arizona, somewhere he’d never been and had no intention of going. Wymack flipped through his wallet to find the card as Andrew rolled around to his other side, poking at Neil to shift him into a better position to look at the next wound and rearranging the tray.

“This one is neater.” Andrew commented after he pulled the bandage off and threw it into the trash. “Different weapon?”

“Kitchen knife.”

“Remind me again, how you managed to survive this long?” Andrew shook his head, cleaning down the wound to look at the damage. Wymack passed Neil’s wallet back with a frown, finding nothing to argue with, Neil dropped it onto the medical bed beside him leaning back to give Andrew space to work on his side.

“I’m told I can be hard to kill.” Neil grinned at him.

“Like a cockroach.” Andrew teased.

“I guess they haven’t found the right bug spray.”

“I’m surprised they haven’t squished you yet.”

“I’m fast.”

“I know, Runaway.” Andrew’s mouth quirked up into a half smile. “Stay still, will you.”

Neil hadn’t released he had been kicking his feet absently as they spoke. He pulled them back and hooked his toes on the metal rails under the bed to keep them still; Andrew hummed in approval and turned his attention back to the knife wound.

“Where are you staying?” Wymack asked, studying the bruising again.

“He’ll crash in our dorm for a few days.” Andrew decided. Neil looked at him curiously, but Andrew kept his head down, making quick work of pulling the broken stitches out and threading the needle to redo them. “We have an extra bed. It’ll be more comfortable than whatever zero-star accommodations you come up with.”

“A used a motel last night.” Neil stated in offence.

Andrew raised a brow at him. “And before that?” Neil pulled a face and refused to answer. “Exactly. Besides, you promised me an explanation for all of this.” He gestured up and down to Neil’s whole body.

Neil hummed, not at all looking forward to recapping it and knowing Andrew wouldn’t react well to it either. They fell into an easy silence with Neil watching Andrew’s face as he stitched him up and replaced the bandages. Andrew glanced up at him as he worked but didn’t say anything and in return, Neil didn’t mention the way his hands lingered on his skin as he smoothed the tape down. It had been too long since they had seen each other and it felt like both were struggling to believe that they were both there, together again. Andrew rolled back on his chair to look at him when he was done; Neil shook out his shirt and replaced it as Andrew peeled the gloves off and tossed them in the trash.

“I’ll clean this up.” Wymack offered lightly, looking at Andrew. “Do me a favour and get out there and make sure the rest of the team haven’t injured themselves yet.”

“Do you care?” Neil asked curiously, unable to figure out what the coaches motivations were.

“I don’t hand out scholarships to have my players break each other before the first game of the season.” Wymack grumbled.

“He waits until the second.” Andrew snarked in German. Neil snorted, the language switch taking him by surprise.

“That’s getting old really quickly.” Wymack said drily.

“Huh?” Neil asked looking between them, but Wymacks’ attention remained on Andrew.

“You won’t make any friends on the team if you refuse to speak to them.”

“Good.” Andrew stood up and grabbed Neil’s duffle for him. “I don’t want to be friends with these assholes.”

Neil followed him out and left Wymack to deal with the mess they had created in the medical room.

“Not a minor?” Andrew questioned as they made their way back out to the court.

“18,” he told him, keeping his voice low. “Easier that way than trying to convince people that I have a parent hanging around that they’ll never meet. This way, I can put fake details down and sign off on everything myself.”

“An emancipated teen?”

“Something like that.” Neil agreed, following as he turned and led them up into the stands away from the rest of the team who were spreads out around the stadium making the most of their break. “German?”

“Nicky was living over there for a few years before Aarons mother suffered a fatal case of death.” Andrew explained with an edge to his otherwise bored tone. “He took custody of us and offered to teach us to help with our final years of high school.”

Neil mulled over the information, trying to picture Andrew sitting beside his brother and studying together, he couldn’t see it. “Does anyone else here speak it?”

“No.” Andrew sat down, dumping Neil’s duffle next to him and pulling his feet up to rest them on the row in front of them casually. Neil copied the movement, sinking into the seat after being on his feet for most of the day. “Wymack thinks we’re being poor teammates because we switch language in front of them and cut them out of the conversation.”

“That doesn’t sound like a bad thing.” Neil commented watching the different groups of Foxes mingle below them. Nicky had found his place beside the look-a-like but they both remained separate to the rest of the team.

“He disagrees with my assessment of them.” He commented blandly. “I’ll admit that three of them have potential. I haven’t had a chance to find out for sure yet, but I will.”

“Which ones?” Neil asked looking around at the groups and rolling his eyes at the way number seven was perched on Gordons lap fawning over him sickeningly.

“Wilds might be worthwhile as a Captain. Boyd has potential if he can kick the drugs for good, right now he’s strung out and two seconds away from throwing his life down the toilet for a hit. And Walker, I’m don’t know what her story is but she’s like us. She might be useful.”

The last two, Neil spotted walking the outer court together with Boyd shooting looks over at the group of guys hanging around Gordon while Walker’s attention was divided between Boyd and where Nicky and Aaron were sitting on the benches. Neil was reaching for his duffle, pulling out the box of cigarettes and lighter stashed in the side pocket when Wymack stepped onto court, using the loudspeaker to call the Foxes back to the benches to start training again. Andrew didn’t move, looking over to watch Neil light up.

“Perks of being 18?” He asked curiously.

Neil exhaled the first lungful, considering the cigarette in his fingers. “Perks of having no-one left to care.”

“Begs the age old question, doesn’t it.” Andrew stood, stealing the cigarette and drawing on it himself as he held Neil’s gaze. “Is it freedom, or loneliness?”

Neil huffed as he considered the question. “Maybe it’s both. Why else would I come here…” He gestured around them. “The last place my mother ever wanted me to be, with some-one I handed enough information to get me killed.”

“Is she rolling in her grave?” Andrew asked taking one last puff before handing it back.

“Guaranteed.” Neil nodded at the Foxes shooting them angry looks as they made their way to the Coach. “I think you’re being called.”

Andrew glanced down at them, before setting his attention firmly on Neil. “We should be done in an hour or so. You’ll still be here?”

“Yes.” Neil confirmed, knowing that Andrew needed to hear the promise. “I think I’ll stay up here. I can’t do small talk with your coach for another hour.”

Andrew let out a breath of relief. “Come down to the team room when we’re done.”

Neil hummed in acknowledgement, watching Andrew turn on his heel and make his way down to the court again. His mother had never wanted him to get close enough to someone to make stupid rookie mistakes like going looking for them years after they had parted, but fuck what his mother wanted. If he had followed her advice, he would be spending the rest of his life running, with no friends, no allies and no future. No. He was glad that he’d seen Andrew Doe written up in that paper months ago, he was proud to watch as he got signed to a team and more than happy to make the cross-country trip to see him in person once more. Even if it was only for a few days before he moved on. It gave him something to hold onto. Someone to root for when he ran again. Someone to teether him to reality when things were bad.

He watched as the Coach laid out plays for the team. Watched as Andrew ignored the other goalies trying to talk to him and grinned each time Andrew smacked a ball away from the goal only for it to find its way to the body of the guys antagonising him. Andrew wasn’t letting people push him around anymore. Wymack looked up at him a few times while the players were working and Neil was glad he decided to stay where he was, the man didn’t need a chance to pry anymore information out of him. Andrew kept himself apart from the other players, raising his racket only to deflect the ball as it made its way past the backliners, and Neil couldn’t help but wonder what it would have been like to play with Andrew at his back. Nicky was the only one who tried to get Andrews attention between breaks, sidling up to him as the team broke into arguments, but it didn’t look like Andrew spared him more than a word or two for the rest of practice.

Neil found himself perched on the arm of a couch in the team room after practice was done, duffle at his feet and Andrew leaning against his thigh to keep a gap between him and the twin brother to his side. Wymack rambled off a quick rundown on their performances for the day, as well as what would be happening the next, sparing Neil a quick look when he said that he didn’t want anymore interruptions with their training schedule. Neil held his gaze innocently as each player in the room mumbled under their breaths shooting him a range of looks from murderous to intrigued.

“Why is he still here?” The blonde, Reynolds, looked down her nose at him.

“What?” Neil challenged her. “You don’t think I fit in with the Foxes recruiting standards?”

A few of the guys around the room sniggered, shooting Gordon a few comments about being put on his arse by a bruised and battered kid. Gordon glowered at him, folding his arms over his chest and doing his best to look intimidating.

“His entrance was a little unorthodox, I’ll admit.” Walker said serenely, smiling at Andrew sweetly. “But I think we’d all be happy to welcome our friends into the stadium for a tour if they were in the neighbourhood.”

Neil studied her with a frown, on edge with the hardness in her eyes and the way she looked at Andrew despite her calm exterior. He didn’t trust people that worked so hard to look inviting and the cross at her throat did her no favours in his book. Andrew didn’t give them any response, turning his attention away from the girl without acknowledgement. Nicky watched them both closely, smiling nervously.

“I think it’s good that your friend is in town.” Nicky told Andrew in German, chewing on his words like he was stepping through a mine field. “I don’t think I’ve seen you talk to one person for so long before.”

“Shut up.” Andrew told him slowly, brushing off the comment and ignoring the annoyed looks from their Captain at the language change. “Are we done here, Coach?”

“Yes.” Wymack sighed, rubbing a hand through his hair. “If you need anything while you’re here, kid. Abby knows what she’s doing, and she won’t break your confidence.” Neil glared at him as the offer hung thick in the air between them. “Just think about it.”

Andrew grabbed his duffle when they were dismissed, walking out the door without a backwards glance while the rest of the team were still climbing to their feet. Neil was quick on his heels, beating his family to the chase as they followed Andrew out.

Andrew stopped at the expensive black sports car in the lot, dropping Neil’s bag into the trunk and leaning against it as he pulled his own cigarettes out of his pocket, lighting up as Neil joined him with a grin. He couldn’t help it, Andrew looked good like this. Thick boots, clean form fitting clothes that showed of his muscle definition and black armbands that Neil knew would be hiding the evidence of a harsh childhood. He looked in control, leaning on the sports car like he was raised with the world at his feet. It was just plain good to see what a few years difference had brought to Andrews life and Neil was glad for it. Andrew had always deserved more than he’d been given.

“This suits you.” He told him, stealing the cigarette from Andrews fingers and gesturing to the car. “It looks fast.”

“It is fast.” Andrew confirmed, tucking the pack away in his pocket. “I modified everything I could to get it running at peak performance and it hasn’t missed a beat.”

“Beats the shit out of the crapboxes I’ve been driving for the past week.” Neil hummed in appreciation, holding the smoke out for Andrew in offering.

“When are we talking about that?” He asked shooting a cautious look to Aaron and Nicky as they made their way out of the stadium gates.

“When we’re somewhere well out of earshot.” Neil promised, watching as the rest of the team began spilling out into the lot. “Have you got a computer?”

“Why?”

Neil leaned on the car next to him, ignoring the dark look from the twin. “I should probably check the news soon. I haven’t had the chance to in the past couple of days.”

“Get in the back Nicky!” Andrew called before Nicky could pull the passenger door open.

Nicky froze, looking over at the pair of them and smiling slowly. “Is your friend coming with us?”

Andrew ignored him, gesturing for Neil to get into the car. Neil scouted around Nicky and pulled the passenger door open the same time Andrew slid into the drivers seat. The car was fucking nice, inside and out. Clean leather seats and not a single smudge or stray piece of rubbish. It was clear that Andrew took immaculate care of the car. Neil thought back to the foster homes and the way Andrew told him they moved him around, throwing his bare essentials in garbage bags and not allowing him to hold onto any keepsakes or childhood toys because it was too much to expect the new foster homes to make space for such things. Unlike Neil who was taught almost every skill imaginable that might come in handy for his survival, Andrew wasn’t given the chance to learn anything that didn’t come from a public school education or from friends like Neil who’d taken it on himself to teach Andrew what they could. It was only appropriate that now Andrew had things to his name, they would be kept fastidiously to counteract the years of mistreatment.

Andrew’s driving style was controlled aggression, wheels spinning as they took off and sharp gear changes.

“You’ve gotten better.” Neil commented leaning back in the seat as Andrew flew down the road.

Andrew flicked him a derisive look. “From my very first lesson with you? I should hope so.”

Neil laughed, recalling leading Andrew out to the parking lot of a strip mall where they practice hotwiring cars and joyriding for the hell of it. “You couldn’t have gotten much worse!”

“Bite me!”

Nicky leant forward over the console between them. “What do you mean, first lesson?” Andrew sent his cousin a bland look, while Neil grinned and turned to look out the window. Nicky whined. “You can’t say something like that and not elaborate!”

“Sure we can.” Neil chuckled, watching as Andrew swung the car into a parking lot outside of what Neil assumed was the dorm building.

“Maybe, try not to tell them things.” Andrew side-eyed him before stepping out of the car. Neil shrugged and followed. He caught sight of the pink convertible from the stadium lot driving towards the building as they stepped inside, Neil’s duffle slung over Andrew’s shoulder again..

Andrew led them to the elevator without comment, punching the ‘3’ when they were all inside. Aaron took up a spot against the wall with his arms folded over his chest, radiating hostility as he glared at Neil.

“Who is he, really?” Aaron switched to German to ask Andrew.

Andrew remained calmly watching the numbers as the lift rose, not making any gesture to show he heard what his brother had asked.

“Andrew?” Nicky prompted nervously, flicking his eyes between the twins while Neil leant against the wall happily watching the back of Andrew’s head.

Andrew stepped out the moment the doors opened, leading the way down the hall, Aaron followed quickly trying to place himself between Neil and his brother. Neil bit back a smile as he followed Nicky out and down the hall where Andrew was unlocking the dorm.

“Andrew?” Aaron demanded when Neil shut the dorm door behind him. “Why is he here?”

“Because, he needs a place to crash for a few days and we have a spare bed.” Andrew answered slowly in a tone that brokered no arguments. Neil found it amusing that Aaron didn’t stop to think that he might understand the language change.

Nicky smiled genuinely. “Good. It’s not often we have guests!”

“I don’t know him!” Aaron continued trying to hide his words in German. “I’ve never seen him before, so how do you know him?”

Andrew sent him a tired look, picking up a laptop and holding it out for Neil to grab. “You might not remember, but I had a whole 16 years of my own life that you weren’t involved in. What makes you think you would recognise any of my friends?”

“I know you didn’t keep in touch with anyone from California.” Aaron dropped the German since Andrew was happy to hold half the conversation in English without him. “You didn’t have a phone, you never wrote letters-“

“And yet, here he is!” Andrew gestured sarcastically, making a show out of Neil walking through the dorm to set the laptop up on the kitchen bench. “Thanks to the wonderful magic of television.”

“Yes, actually.” Neil agreed with a smug grin. “That fun report on the up-and-coming Exy players a couple of months ago. I caught the end of it in a diner and spent the next three days cursing the Foxes.”

“What is with that?” Andrew asked him, ignoring Aarons furious gaze. “You asked why not Penn State; I thought you would have wanted me signing up to the Raven’s since they’re the leading NCAA team.”

Neil paused, holding his fingers over the keypad as he levelled Andrew with a serious look. “I don’t want you anywhere near the Ravens.”

“Why?” He asked as Neil went back to typing in his search.

“That is another story for when we’re alone.” Neil promised, sighing as the results came up on the screen, he motioned for Andrew to join him keeping the screen away from the other. “I thought you might want to see it for yourself.”

“See what…?” Andrew rounded the bench curiously. Neil stepped away from the laptop, giving Andrew room to look for himself while creating a one-man barrier between him and his overly interested family.

Andrew stiffened when he caught sight of the headline, keeping his eyes trained on it for a few moments before he reached out to scroll through the article.

“Was that you?” He asked when he looked up at Neil again. Neil flicked his eyes to the screen; Andrew was still on the first article, he hadn’t seen the second yet.

“No. I had nothing to do with that, I was in Seattle.” He explained quickly. “The next, however…” he prompted Andrew to switch to the next open tab.

Neil pretended not to notice the slight shake in Andrew’s hand as he switched tabs, his eyes glued to the screen as he read through every word. He went white, alarmingly quickly, enough that Nicky leant across the counter reaching out to pat Andrew’s arm consolingly. Neil wasn’t quick enough to stop it. Andrew flinched back in fear before stony anger flooded his face. He only had a second to wonder if he should be pulling Nicky out of harms way before Andrew lunged forward.

It wasn’t Nicky he went for. Andrew snatched up the laptop, raising it high over his head and bringing it crashing down on the edge of the counter. The screen shattered, sending shards of glass in all directions as keys came loose and scattered across the floor. Neil turned his head, lifting a hand to protect his eyes when Andrew brought it up to deliver the next blow.

“Andrew!” Aaron screeched, backing away from the outburst and pulling Nicky with him. “Knock it off!”

Nicky flinched with each time Andrew brought the laptop down, eyes wide with fear and shock, as Neil waited it out calmly. Andrew was breathing heavily when he dropped the ruined remains onto the floor and glance around at the destruction.

His gaze caught on Neil, “Clean that up!” He demanded storming off down the short hall and slamming the bedroom door.

It was only then did Neil hear the banging on the dorm door that had been covered by Andrews vendetta against the laptop. He shrugged as he went in search of the broom, finding it neatly stashed beside the with a dustpan and brush. He dumped the larger pieces of hardware into the trash and set about sweeping off the counters before turning his attentions to the floor.

“What the fuck was that?” Aaron demanded as Nicky shook himself off and went to face whoever was bashing on the door.

“That was my fault.” Neil called as several of the older Foxes fell into the room. “I’ll replace that.”

“Damn right you will!” Aaron threatened him. “What the fuck did you show him?”

“What is going on in here?” Dan asked looking around at the mess Neil was sweeping up.

“Just a little destruction of personal property.” Neil assured calmly. “Nothing for everyone to stick their noses into.”

“And everyone is…” She looked around at Nicky’s frightened face as Neil dumped a panful of pieces into the trash. “Okay?”

“Everyone is fine.” Neil assured her, gesturing to the door hoping they would get the hint and leave. “A guy has the right to murder his laptop in peace if he wants to.”

Andrew stomped back out, cigarette in hand and exhaling a cloud of smoke. “You.” He jabbed a finger at Neil, barely glancing at the other Foxes in the room before switching to German. “You are going to tell me everything, and I don’t want to hear the term ‘plausible deniability’, do you understand me?”

“Smoke alarms, Andrew!” Nicky fussed, shaking himself out of the previous stupor.

Neil looked up quickly, spotting the alarm above the counter and grabbing a knife from the person shaped block. He pulled himself up till he was standing on the bench to reach it, using the knife to unscrew the cap and yanking the battery out.

“Abram!” Andrew demanded when he failed to respond.

Neil tossed the battery carelessly onto the counter and screwing the cap back in place, grateful that his shirt was loose enough that it didn’t ride up and expose his abdomen. “I heard you.” He told him, making Nicky and Aaron blinked when they realised that Neil spoke German as well. He switched languages. “I’ll tell you everything you want to know, but not here.”

“You are the stupidest bastard I’ve ever met in my life.” Andrew berated him as Neil dropped down to sit on the counter. “Why would you go back to that Hellhole?”

“I told you,” Neil sighed, rolling his shoulder from the strain of dismantling the fire alarm. “I didn’t choose to go back so much as I ended up there, and I figured why not kill two birds with one stone. I get a little grief therapy while cleaning up the trash we left behind.”

“I left behind.” Andrew clarified harshly. “It wasn’t yours to clean up. You could have gotten yourself killed, or worse!”

“But I didn’t.” Neil pushed his luck by stealing the half-smoked cigarette and putting it to his own mouth. “I think that counts for something.”

“What is going on?” Dan demanded again, looking to Nicky for answers. Nicky shrugged his shoulder at a loss for what to say. “Look here, Freshmeat.” She continued in frustration. “You can’t go around picking fights on the court, bringing in your homeless friends and destroying property. You’re Class I athletes now, start behaving like it!”

“Why are you still here?” Neil demanded, looking over at her and the three others crammed into the doorway. “This isn’t your room, and it isn’t your business. Fuck off.”

Dan opened her mouth to argue, but Andrew was stepping towards her pulling the pen out of his arm band and uncapping the thin blade concealed inside. “You have until the count of three.”

Dan eyed the penknife warily.

“One.”

Boyd grabbed her arm and tugged, trying to get her moving.

“Two.”

Dan raised her chin and stood her ground defiantly while Nicky whimpered.

“Three.” Andrew launched himself across the room and Dan back peddled out of the room in fear, Andrew slammed the door shut behind her.

“Interfering bastards!” Andrew muttered under his breath, turning to Neil. “I think it’s time we found somewhere to talk.”

“That’s probably smart.” Neil agreed, walking over to grab his duffle from where Andrew had dropped it on a desk.

“We are coming back.” Andrew commented, watching his movements.

Neil eyed Aaron and Nicky who were watching them both carefully. “You don’t trust them, why the hell would I?”

Nicky inhaled sharply; Aaron glared in annoyance. “You’ve been here for five minutes, you couldn’t possible understand our relationship with Andrew.”

“You’re right,” Neil agreed, “I’ve been here five minutes. Give me three hours and I’ll know everything I need to about you.”

Andrew defied Neil’s expectations by leading him up the stairwell and jimmying the lock on the roof access door. It opened onto the flat concreted surface of the roof with nothing but the stairwell upon. Not even a safety rail for the edge, just a straight drop if you stepped too far.

“Are we over our fear of heights?” Neil questioned smartly, smiling at the cold look Andrew sent him as he stepped closer to the edge and peered down.

“No.” Andrew stepped back a pace and carefully sat down where he could place his hands and feet on the solid surface of the roof.

Neil chuckled to himself, taking a place beside him and dropping his bag between them. Andrew watched each move as he pulled the cigarette out, lighting two and passing one across.

“Start talking, Abram.” Andrew told him as he accepted the smoke.

Neil smiled at hearing his name for the first time in years. The older he had gotten, the more he looked like his father, the less even his mother had used it. She started sticking to whatever persona he would inhabit at the time, refusing to acknowledge him as a real person beneath the falsified names.

“He found us in Seattle.” Neil explained slowly. “It was the first time he’d ever gotten that close. We almost didn’t make it out.”

“But you did.” Andrew prompted before Neil could get lost in his own thoughts.

“We were both in rough shape, but I didn’t stop to think about it. Mum kept screaming to drive, to get as far away as possible. I don’t know if she was screaming or if it just felt like it. They were so close and we were in no shape to fight.” Neil took a drag on the cigarette, looking out over the view of the campus bathed in afternoon sun, as he expelled it. Andrew kept his eyes on him, waiting patiently to hear the rest of it. “She pointed us towards the coast. I wasn’t until we pulled up on an abandoned beach that I realised how bad she was. She was sweaty and pale, her stomach bloated beneath her hands. So weak that she could barely speak. She kept saying that I needed to run, keep running, never be in the same place for long, never be the same person for long. She made me promise.”

Andrew studied him for a long moment, stubbing the cigarette out on the concrete. “You lied.” He said, flicking the butt over the edge. “If you were going to keep that promise you would not have come here. She died and you lied.”

“I am what she raised me to be.” Neil sighed unable to refute the claim. “Maybe she knew, maybe that’s why she was so desperate for me to promise. Either way…”

“How did that end with you going after that list?”

“I was standing on the beach, reeking of smoke and death. I wanted to come straight to you, but what if they followed? I was beaten to hell and angry, in no shape to show up on your doorstep.” He thought it over slowly, kicking his feet against the concrete. “I wasn’t just angry, I was furious, and I needed a job to help me focus. Give me time to heal.” He laughed ironically. “And California had a list just waiting for my attention.”

Andrew hummed, lighting another cigarette. “Why leave the bodies this time?”

“I saw the memorial Oakland High put up for Drake. Fuck that bullshit. Plus I figure, if it was shoved in their faces a bit, CPS might start digging deeper on their background checks.” He sent him a half-smile, finding Andrews eyes glued to him as he spoke. “That and it’s harder to get rid of six bodies with limited time and no backup.”

 “Only three of those were on the list?” Andrew huffed out a relieved laugh, his mood lightening.

Neil shivered in disgust. “I went through their e-mails and texts, just to shove the information to the surface so the pigs would know why." He explained, scrunching up his nose. “I found the others and couldn’t bring myself to leave it half done. There’s probably more, but the pigs will be able to find the rest.”

“You’re here, they’re dead.” Andrew said quietly, looking at the lowering sun. “I can’t tell if I’m dreaming or if I’ve completely lost it and started hallucinating.”

The admission startled a laugh out of Neil. “I’m here, Drew.” He smiled at him softly. “I bruise, I bleed, I’m here. You can touch me to make sure if you want to.”

Andrew twisted in his spot to sit facing him, reaching out slowly, carefully… and brushing his hair forward to whip him in the eyes. Neil screwed his eyes up and poked his tongue out, laughing as he brushed his hair back again.

Andrew caught his chin in his hand and leaned in. “What colour are your eyes?”

Neil got caught in the soft look in his honeyed eyes and held a finger up before reaching for his duffle. Andrew let him go, happy to watch what he was doing. Neil pulled out his small contact case from being buried between his shirts and went through the process of pulling out each contact and cleaning them before putting them away in the box. He blinked a few times to get used to the absence before looking back up at Andrew.

Andrew studied them closely, breathing out. “Pretty.”

Neil flushed and there was a moment of embarrassment on Andrews face but he didn’t take back the word.

“Distinctive.” Neil clarified, unsure of what to make of Andrews comment. “They’re my father’s eyes, and hard to mistake for those who know him. That’s why I wear contacts. It’s as much about hiding the shade, as it is about blending in.”

“You don’t need to do that with me.” Andrew told him. “No-one here has anything to do with that.”

“I know.” He admitted with a shrug. “It’s a habit. That’s why I don’t want you having anything to do with the Ravens.”

Andrew quirked his head to the side, gesturing for him to explain.

“I went there once, Evermore, for the week before mum and I ran actually.” He looked over the campus as he recalled how happy he was stepping onto the famed Exy court where the American team would train for the Olympics. Where Kevin and Riko, the sons of Exy, lived and played. He was so angry at his mother for deciding to leave right when he had something he wanted to hold onto. “I don’t know why, but my father had business with Tetsuji and what from what I overheard, he’s high up in the American Yakuza family. They ended practice early and dragged me, Kevin and Riko up to the tower to watch my father work. Now Kevin and Riko are at the head of the Ravens, they’ll be involved with something.”

“They came to recruit me.” Andrew said absently, Neil nodded. He had heard about that in the report. “I believe it of Riko, but Kevin seemed… controlled.”

Neil looked over at the hard edge in his voice and wondered what Kevin had let slip for him to see. “He probably is.” He agreed. “I know they put up the front of being raised as brothers, but the yakuza don’t even accept second sons as part of the main family, forget daughters entirely. If he’s not personally involved, Tetsuji and Riko would have him on a leash as an investment.”

“What would they have done to me?” Andrew asked curiously.

Neil frowned at the thought. “I doubt every Raven is a mafia stooge. I don’t know what they would do, but I heard they wanted you for their perfect court. So, probably something similar to Kevin and Moreau. It wouldn’t be good.”

“Won’t be hard to stay away from them.” Andrew considered. “Different districts and the Foxes don’t have any hope of making it to finals to face the big three.”

“They might with you playing.” Neil grinned despite himself. “I’ve seen your stats.”

“Junkie.” Andrew pushed his face away, making him laugh. “I won’t be seeing much game time. Wymack doesn’t need an extra goalie, he recruited me because he’ll need one next year and would rather keep me on the bench until then rather than lose me to another team.”

Neil huffed lightly. “You’re worth three full scholarships, that he didn’t need to pay out, for the sake of having you next year. If you can’t figure out what to do next in five years, going pro would give you an easy life. Big money for a few years of playing, even if you don’t put the effort in.”

Andrew shoved his shoulder gently. “It might be a back plan. Don’t get your hopes up.”

They sat in comfortable silence, watching as the sun went down, colours bursting to life in the sky and fading just as quickly. Below them, athletes were moving in and out of the parking lot, arranging their dinner plans for the night with shouts and laughter.

“Come on.” Andrew stood up, offer his hand to pull Neil to his feet. “You need a bath and Nicky has some salts that are supposed to help relax muscles and speed up healing.”

“I need to find a laundromat first,” Neil admitted. “I haven’t had a chance to do washing and this was my last clean set of clothes.”

“Use mine.”