Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Trigger warning: Violence, description of corpse, death, vague description of mourning, murder, description of injuries, explicit description of torture, sexual harassment, attempted murder, blood and mentions of blood, attempted rape, panic attack, suicidal ideation, discussion of death, homophobia, non-consensual drug use.

One of Neil's new favorite pastimes was watching the way his cigarette smoke blew away on the wind. It became customary for him to go up to the roof and sit on the edge of the guardrail when he needed some peace—usually Andrew would ask to join him, but today was Wednesday, it was one of Betsy's days. 

He sighed remembering the effort Andrew had put into trying to convince him to see her at least once every two weeks after Seth's death, claiming he knew Neil well enough to know that he would blame himself for the other striker's death. 

Lifting the cigarette to his lips and taking a long drag, Neil felt the bitter taste of smoke on his tongue—almost as bitter as the taste of failure. It was Neil's fault that Seth was killed, especially after Allison asked him for help keeping them safe during the night.

Neil exhaled smoke through his nose again seeing the white cloud being swept away as if it had never been there in the first place.

Seeing Bee turned out to be less awful than he'd initially thought it would be—which shouldn't be all that surprising considering how much Andrew liked the woman—but overall, it wasn't effective. Neil wasn't good at opening his mouth, and even though Andrew insisted on telling Betsy that they were both soul mates and the way they bonded, there still wasn't much he could say without putting himself, Andrew and Betsy in danger.

He was about to take another drag when he heard the metallic click of the roof door opening.

Neil didn't turn around, it wasn't Andrew, so whatever they had to deal with there was none of his business.

“You guys should fix the noise on that thing. One of these days it's going to scare one of you and you're going to be a stain on the sidewalk.”

Neil snorted, air rushing out of his nose on a laugh before he could stop himself.

Aaron's voice was similar to Andrew's, a lot of people seemed to confuse—but just as Neil could tell the difference between the two's physical appearance without so much as a second glance, the voice wasn't far behind.

He brought the cigarette to his lips, inhaled the smoke and closed his eyes as he released it again.

“Your brother is here”

"Where are you?"

"Rooftop"

"Tell him I don't give permission for him to throw you off the edge"

“Hey, Aaron.” he said, still holding the cigarette close to his face. “Your brother says you're not allowed to throw me out of here.”

“Party pooper.” he replied, his tone good-natured and playful. Neil still hadn't gotten used to the thought that there was anyone else in the world besides Stuart and Andrew who genuinely thought of him as family. It was a hard pill to swallow, but not exactly a bad one. It was good, but it didn't make it any less awkward. “How are you?” He shrugged, finally turning to Aaron. “Okay, stupid question.” Neil raised an eyebrow at him and Aaron rolled his eyes. "You'd rather cut your own arm off than tell the truth." He shrugged again, it was kind of true. “You're part of my family too, asshole. Like it or not.”

He opened his mouth to respond, but just closed it again.

It was weird, but Neil couldn't bring himself to mind the weirdness. Being close to his soulmate's twin was comforting. It was like having a friend.

“I think he wants to cheer me up”

“He probably wants to talk to you”

“Do you want me to talk to him?”

“I want you to do whatever you want”

Neil looked at Aaron for a second.

He looked uncomfortable, the thick polo shirt and coat apparently not being enough to keep the icy wind at bay, so he had his arms crossed over his chest. Another indication was his red cheeks and purple lips, it was the exact look Andrew looked like when he felt cold.

Neil sighed, if Aaron had gone to the trouble of exposing himself to possible hypothermia just to talk to him, it was only fair that he really speak.

“What does he know?”

"Almost everything"

“What doesn't he know?”

“He doesn't know about the people who are after you or what they've done. He knows everything about me”

“Can I talk about it?” Neil paused. “Talk about me too, about us?”

"I thought you didn't want anyone in this"

“I… I trust him. He has your back so I don't mind him knowing about it, I guess"

There was static for a moment and then Andrew's voice in his head, sounding as resolute as possible for the bond.

"I would like this. That you would talk to him about us, I would like that.”

Neil took that as the permission he wanted that he probably didn't even need to ask for. He was well aware that Andrew liked the idea of him and Aaron becoming friends.

“You two are so alike, you know that? Not the twins thing, that much is obvious. It's more than that.”

He patted the seat beside him in an invitation, one that Aaron wrinkled his nose but still accepted.

It was a little funny the way the other turned pale as he tried to climb up and sit on the ledge next to Neil, his fingers gripping the concrete wall so hard his fingernails turned white. He laughed and patted Aaron on the shoulder, asking him to step aside, and then he climbed down from the wall and sat on the ground.

“I think your brother is afraid of heights too”

“You made him sit on the ledge with you, didn't you?”

“I suggested it and he accepted, but I didn't let him go up”

There was no response to that, so Neil just mentally shrugged and raised the cigarette to his lips once more.

“This thing is going to kill you, you know? And you really don't seem to need any more help. Honestly, it was Seth who died and you're the one who looks like a corpse.”

For a second, Neil just stared at Aaron. The resemblance between him and Andrew were more striking than he thought they would be.

Neil crossed his arms over his knees and said:

“Your brother used to do that, you know? When we were kids.” Neil adjusted his chin on his arms to get a better look at Aaron. His brow was furrowed and he looked confused. Neil snorted. "Talking about meaningless shit and jokingly insulting me until I felt better." He still does that sometimes. It is less nowadays.

Andrew had a habit of sitting next to Neil in dreams after really bad days and talking until his voice broke. Neil never had to ask, Andrew always did when he felt it was necessary.

“He did?” Aaron looked surprised. Almost amazed. Maybe it was because Neil said he and Andrew had something in common when apparently everything about them other than their looks was so different. Aaron should feel sad that he was deprived of that, of being deprived of being what a twin means.

Neil understood what it was like to be kept away from one half of you.

“Yeah. Sometimes playing was too much, so he spoke. For hours and hours until I felt steady again. He spent a good deal of that time cursing and cursing me, criticizing my obsessions and anything else that would take my mind off my problems. He saved me a little bit each time.”

Aaron blinked, a confused expression. The crease between his eyes deepening.

"He doesn't touch you too?" Neil tapped his fingers against his thighs, mulling this over.

"Not as often as he doesn't touch other people, in fact he touches me more than he doesn't. It's just…difficult for him. Ever since he was seven, Andrew has thought he hurts me with every touch he gets, every situation he gets into.” Neil could never forget all the times Andrew apologized for something that wasn't his fault at all. All the times Andrew said he wished Neil couldn't feel his pain. “It's not easy. He prefers to close himself off, to keep things that could hurt from touching him so I don't feel pain either.”

Aaron looked like he'd been punched in the stomach, which Neil could sympathize with.

It hurt to know that Andrew didn't fear the pain for himself, but for Neil. That he cared so little about hurting himself that if it weren't for Neil getting hurt too, he wouldn't even blink.

They were hard truths to swallow.

"How is it?" Aaron said, his voice softening. Getting shaky. "Feeling what he feels? Kate can feel when I'm scared, but that's all. She told me it's like a warning saying 'Your soulmate is scared' and that it scared her when it started, but…" He looked at him and Neil didn't look away. “It looks so different on you, even if you only seem to have an improved version of it.”

“It's hard to explain.” Neil closed his eyes, resting his head against the cold concrete. How could he put that feeling into words? It was always so instinctual that he didn't even think about it and Andrew never really asked what it was like. “I took some getting used to it, to be honest. It was as if my insides turned cold and a feeling of dread washed over me, my head screaming warnings and directions and repeating ‘danger’ over and over again.” He remembered the first few times. The way he couldn't tell if it was Andrew or him in danger, how he cried with fear, he remembered the pain of Lola's beatings when he couldn't focus in class. “It was worse when he wouldn't move away from danger, it was like the sensation was forcing him away using me. It hurts like hell, like my organs are being pulled out of me and I'm being burned alive at the same time. It was never fun.”

Aaron looked a little green and queasy at the explanation, but Neil honestly thought he'd done a good job.

“I think I may have traumatized your brother”

“His mother had arrived earlier, but what did you do?”

“He asked me to explain what it was like for me to feel that you were in danger”

"Bad idea"

“You never asked me about it”

“You never seemed to want to explain”

Neil didn't answer, it wasn't a lie.

“I think everything about you and Andrew is like… a more intense and dramatic version of Kate and me, isn't it? Even the fact that you can talk to each other all the time and dreams. I can send thoughts to Katelyn, but no more. It's almost like spam in her thoughts and you and Andrew…” Aaron shook his head. “How did you… get through all this? Andrew told me about his life growing up, about some things that happened to him and there didn't seem to be a single moment of peace, everything seems so painful with you guys, always involving so many risks and so many chances of not working out. How did you fight for so long and not give up?”

Neil shrugged.

“Andrew and I are fed enough anger and spite to kill god, I think. Keeping moving forward was the least of our problems. Giving up something good you have when you have so little is much harder than constantly fighting to survive.” He smiled a little, imagining the moment he'd found Andrew in Millport, how desperate and frantic he'd been to finally be able to touch him, how relieved he'd been when he'd managed to cry, and how clichéd it was that the first time he'd managed to that after so long it was because of Andrew . “I think I would have given up running a long time ago if it weren't for Andrew. He kept me whole, Aaron. In a way he might not even realize.”

It was Aaron's turn to close his eyes, his fists clenching tightly.

“He knows. He's probably the same as you. Neil, you didn't see him that day. He…” The boy opened his eyes. “The day you were shot. I thought he was dying, he was bleeding so badly, smeared with vomit and huddled in a corner of our living room and—” Aaron looked down at his hands. “He punched me that night. I tried to touch him and he punched me. He was so desperate, he wouldn't stop crying, he asked me for help to help you .” He shook his head, as if trying to rid himself of the thought. Neil could feel the lit icing of the cigarette burning his fingers, but he couldn't move. He knew that day must have been terrible for Andrew, but he never imagined how much. Neil never allowed himself to do that, it was like a door he kept constantly locked in his chest, a huge plate of no Trespassing glued to it. “I figured if he didn't die then, then the next day. I saw it the moment he looked at the mark and saw that it was fading. I thought I was going to lose my brother.”

Neil took a deep breath, bile rising in his throat.

He kind of wished Andrew were there right now, making sure they were both alive and breathing. That nothing would ever affect them again, that they were safe.

His hand went up to his chest and gripped the fabric of his shirt there, right where his mark was.

"I never meant to involve you in this." he admitted, at least to Aaron. Neil knew Andrew wouldn't forgive him for even thinking about leaving him out. “I'd like to keep Andrew safe, but he's always been there. The first time I was forced to pick up a knife or the first time I was forced to cut open a live animal. Did you know that his preference for anything other than meat is my fault?” Neil closed his eyes, remembering the first time he found out that Andrew felt sick from eating meat, his voice flat as he admitted that the smell was a lot like Neil's skin burning under the hot iron. “I… I wanted him to be safe, but Andrew would never leave me alone in this. He's too good for that, too kind.” He said opening and closing his hands, feeling his fingers tingling because of the cold. He opened his eyes and stared at the cigarette butt already discarded beside him on the floor, burning weakly, almost completely extinguished. “I was so afraid of dying before, simply because I knew he would come right after me. There was nothing for him here, nothing to hold him back. So I fought, Aaron. I fought with all of me, but being honest?” Looking away from his hands and staring at Andrew's twin. “I don't think I'll survive what's after me. But I think Andrew has a chance of that.”

Neil watched as all the blood drained from Aaron's face with a little guilt. It wasn't fair to him—it wasn't fair to either of them—but he needed help keeping Andrew safe, and after Riko's stunt, Neil was going to take advantage of the opportunities handed to him.

“Don’t say that.” Aaron whispered, looking around as if he was afraid someone would hear them. “He wouldn't stay here, not without you.”

Neil smiled a little, a chill running down his spine as he wished his cigarette hadn't burned all the way to the filter.

“He would stay for you.” He replied, remembering Andrew's expression when he told him for the first time that his brother really wanted him. His eyes were shining, he was happy . “It may seem cruel, Aaron, but he's been preparing for the day he loses me since I was nine. But you? He can not. He doesn't have it, he didn't prepare. Andrew never thought anyone but me would ever want him around, never imagined there would be anyone but me who could call him family and really mean it. He would do anything for you, he won't let you down.”

There was silence after that.

It was mostly Aaron absorbing what Neil had told him, the color coming and going in his face, he looked sick one moment and absolutely confused the next.

But there was more determination in her eyes than Neil thought he could.

“I will help. I'll help keep you safe, Andrew won't be alone in this.”

Neil snorted.

“You two are going to kill each other. I just need you to promise to keep him safe, Aaron. We both know he's the one who matters most and he's going to need help if I don't make it.”

Aaron frowned, an irritated crease between his brows and his lips drawn into a white line.

“Neil, you're family. That's not how things work.”

“That's not how family is to me. And it doesn't matter in the end.” Neil reached into his pocket and pulled out the pack of cigarettes he'd stolen from Andrew, ready to waste another one. “If you try to interfere, you'll only get yourself killed. You can't even hit Renee or Andrew, and the people behind me are very worse. So I'm going to keep you safe, whatever the cost. That's what I promised you when we first met, isn't it? That hasn't changed.”

The silence returned, this time thicker, more uncomfortable.

Aaron was staring at him as if he were studying him, which seemed most likely.

Neil watched, fingers icy cold and lungs full of smoke as Aaron tried to formulate a question, as he kept opening and closing his mouth, brow furrowed and frustration in his expression.

When he finally spoke, Neil could see one more similarity between the brothers.

They always go straight for the throat.

“What happened when you were nine?” Neil blinked and Aaron seemed to think of it as a sign of confusion. “You said he's been preparing to lose you since he was nine. What happened?”

Neil thought about that day. In the hot blood on his face—the metallic taste on his tongue, his lungs burning, fear making him dizzy and his heart racing—he thought of his father's approving gaze, Kengo's lustful eyes.

He inhaled the cigarette smoke once more, letting it out through his nose.

“The first time I made my father proud, the first time I got attention from someone I shouldn't have.” His eyes flicked to Aaron, an unamused smile spreading across his face. “The first time I killed someone.”

Aaron didn't say anything after that.

— 

Neil was staring at the fox meeting room door for what was probably the most exhausting five minutes of his life.

The first team meeting after Seth was finally going to happen and Neil couldn't have predicted a bigger shit show. Not that there were staff members accusing him of anything, they left him alone most of the time, but there were the curious and a little fearful looks, the latter predictably coming specifically from Dan, who had been by Allison's side since Seth was killed and therefore knew of Neil's involvement in the case. Not that it was a secret, he had tried—and for the acrid taste on his tongue, failed—to protect Seth, tried to keep him safe and Allison safe. It was only when Neil turned his back and allowed someone else to take over the watch that the man was killed.

According to his uncle, there was more than one doctor that was bought with Moriyama money at that hospital, supposedly there was nothing Neil could do. It was simple to follow the paper trail, it was even easier to kill the moles implanted there.

Still, it was hard to keep in mind that he did all that he could to save Seth when Allison couldn't even look him in the eye, and that was nothing but a bitter pill to swallow.

Neil rarely made friends, but sure, trust him to let the boyfriend of one of those few friendships get killed right under his nose.

A sharp, irritating pain flared in his wrist, causing him to wrinkle his nose and glare at Andrew with what he knew was an irritated expression.

“You are thinking too much. Stop it or you'll get hurt"

“Is that your way of calling me an idiot?” Neil replied, rubbing his wrist where Andrew had pinched himself.

“This is my way of telling you to stop thinking about scenarios that cannot be changed”

"It doesn't hurt to go over where things went wrong so you don't make the same mistakes"

“It does when I know that you will only martyr yourself”

“I am not a martyr”

“If you like lying to yourself, that's fine, but you can't lie to me”

Neil looked away, back to staring at a random spot on the wall.

The two had disagreements over their methods of coping and that wasn't going to change anytime soon. Both accepted, it didn't mean they liked what the other did.

Andrew liked to spend his time on rooftops with nothing but inertia keeping him from a potentially lethal fall. Neil didn't like the way Andrew was scared, the way a stronger gust of wind could blow him away.

Neil was constantly on high alert not only for himself but for Andrew as well, so for him, making mistakes like the one that cost Seth his life was unacceptable.

And Andrew didn't like that he was so hard on himself.

In some cases they agreed to disagree, in others — like this one, apparently — they intervened.

The slight throb of pain on her skin was a reminder that Andrew had decided to intervene.

"I won't freak out. You don't have to watch me"

"I'm not watching you. I'm making sure you don't get hurt"

"I’m fine"

"You don't even know what that means, Neil"

He glared at Andrew, who returned his gaze with his chin lifted, as if daring him to contradict him, to tell him he was wrong. However, Neil didn't have that much energy, at least not at the moment. He could almost feel the other foxes' gazes on him and it made him so uncomfortable it was painful.

"I just don't want things to go wrong"

"They won’t"

"You don't know that, Andrew"

"As if I would let anyone even look at you the wrong way" Neil felt a pressure on his wrist, not hard enough to hurt, just enough for him to know there was something being pressed there. That Andrew was with him. "I’m here"

He nodded and swallowed, taking one last look at Andrew before taking a deep breath and opening the door.

They were the last ones, he knew they would be, but it still made him feel his stomach churn as eight pairs of eyes immediately turned to him. The smoldering feeling of being seen and recognized sent a command down your spine that said run run run.

He didn't run, though. No, Neil had stopped running the instant he saw Andrew in the flesh for the first time.

Each of the foxes stared at him in a different way, even Abby kept looking between him and Wymack, as if she expected someone there to explode. They probably would, at least at some point.

Seth's death was too recent, too shocking. Neil went from savior to headsmen in a matter of hours, because that's what they were supposed to think.

If he had stayed, had checked, there would have been one more fox in that room and fox number 06 would not have been retired so soon.

“Now that everyone has bothered to be here, I think we can get started.” Wymack spoke, breaking the sudden, uncomfortable silence. Not that it did much to divert all eyes, but at least Neil didn't have to practically hear his teammates' thoughts anymore. “We have practice later and then we're going into the weekend, we've got a game next week and I would appreciate it if you guys tried to look like human beings instead of animals for about 30 minutes.”

Neil stopped listening there, his gaze focused on a spot on the wall and his mind racing through random memories. He tried to avoid thinking of anything that reminded him of Seth, but ended up going straight down the rabbit hole of the other subject that accompanied his colleague's death.

Ichirou knew that Neil was alive, he knew that he was in Palmetto and he knew that he had no intention of going into the hands of Kengo or Nathan. He knew all that, he had the power in his hands to just finish Neil off right then and there, with just half a word—but he didn't.

Rather than forcing Neil into another desperate race for his survival or simply ending that cat and mouse game right there, Ichirou asked for a meeting.

One that would happen that weekend, so it's not like Neil blamed Andrew for being in surveillance mode and condemning every stupid choice he made. Ichirou was his friend once, but they were children — now they had grown up. How easy would it be for the future Mr Moriyama to decide that Neil was nothing but a commodity, just like his father did?

“You are thinking too much again” Andrew caught his eye and Neil blinked, his eyes stinging and watering a little at how dry they were. "You're wasting time in your head"

“Worried”

“I could say that. Static is not as pleasant as you think”

Neil's attention, now all on Andrew, made him pull his legs to his chest and start staring at his soul mate with all the interest he felt.

They could talk through that thread of their soul bond, Andrew could steal Neil into his dreams, plucking him out of nightmares, and Neil could deal with the danger that always loomed over Andrew like an ill omen.

But still, even with all those years, those skills to bring them as close as possible, even with that flame of a feeling with a very strong and very forbidden name burning in his chest—in a moment like that, where Andrew didn't looked into the eyes, where he held that blank expression calmly carved in jade. Eyes focused on nothing and nowhere, but still attentive to any movement happening anywhere.

What was going through Andrew's mind at moments like that? Could it be that, like Neil, he was already considering goodbye? A way to make everything less painful?

No, probably not. Andrew would never say goodbye to him without being forced to, he would fight for Neil until every drop of blood in his body was drained and his bones could no longer support him.

Neil knew that.

It just made it more painful to know his chances of making it to the end of the year alive.

"Staring"

“Distract me?” Neil replied. He glanced at Wymack, who was explaining things about the championship and who looked as out of it as all the other foxes. "I don't want to hear about Exy"

Andrew's eyes sparkled for a second and the corners of his mouth lifted almost imperceptibly before the smile there was squashed.

"Anything?"

"Anything"

“...This is my favorite book in the whole world, even though I've never read it…”

Neil bit back a groan that was entirely false as he saw the amusement in Andrew's eyes. The Princess Bride was his partner's favorite book, a minor obsession that was born when they were teenagers and only grew as the years passed. At some point, the story gained a permanent place in Andrew's chest, which made him really dedicated to memorizing every word of that damn book — not that that was something difficult for him, but it was different because Andrew wanted that in his memory.

The thing was, Neil, as much as he liked it, was pretending not to just be spiteful.

…and because it made it a little more fun for Andrew to recite the whole story from memory, thinking he was somehow messing with Neil.

Either way, he was grateful. Hearing Andrew's voice and reciting that silly book made the atmosphere in that room bearable enough that Neil didn't feel his shoulders slump.

Coach spoke for about thirty minutes, a folder full of papers in hand—what they were for, Neil didn't know. He was feeling numb, the stares making him lethargic and Andrew's voice his only point of focus—before he apparently lost his temper and threw the thing on the table.

The sound startled Neil back to reality, making him really feel the limbs in his body again.

He blinked in surprise at how tense Andrew stood next to him, one hand going towards the braces as if he was prepared to turn his knives towards the coach. Neil knew it was instinct, that it was Andrew's need to protect him from whatever threat he could, but the others didn't know that.

They didn't know that Andrew's first reaction was to protect his own, but knew what was in their armbands and the look in their eyes said all Neil needed to know about the situation.

“Enough. It ends now.” Wymack said, hands splayed over the documents on the table. “Abby had access to Seth's medical report. In the obituary it is written that his death was caused by an overdose, excess Midazolam in the blood, officially he was declared dead due to medical incompetence. It wasn't anyone's fault except those motherfuckers who drugged him. So stop looking at your teammate, may I remind you since apparently everyone here suffers from chronic fucking amnesia, tried to save Seth, as if he were a murderer.” The man's tone was firm and angry, but he wasn't yelling. Wymack was a strange man, Neil didn't understand him, but he could at least be grateful that he almost never heard him scream. “He risked himself for his colleague and you're acting like this thing is his fault. You're foxes, you should be better than that.” Coach then turned to Andrew and him, the lines in his forehead smoothing out. “Neil, you can go if you want. Andrew can tell you about the rest of the meeting later.”

"If he leaves, so will I." Andrew said, the tension still present in his shoulders in a way that Neil knew would continue for a while. It was too much negative attention on Neil for him to relax, the instincts that had grown with both of them since they were seven sending out warning signals, telling them not to flinch because they could be in danger.

The coach, to his credit, didn't even blink before nodding.

“Renee will keep you guys updated.”

“Neil” Andrew's voice rang in his head. “Don't say you’re fine”

He did not. Neil didn't often lie to Andrew, especially not about things that mattered. He didn't even know if he was still capable of it.

And he was not fine.

The looks were heavy, his mind was buzzing, his entire body was tense from what was to come this weekend and there was also the fact that he was practically preparing to die.

He knew the year wouldn't end without pain, he knew it from the moment he took Andrew's hand in his for the first time and said yes to fight instead of flight — but more than pain, the possibility of death was so high that it hurt.

Riko knew about him.

Ichirou knew about him.

How long until it was Kengo and Nathan?

Neil was feeling like he was about to be forced to run again and it hurt more now because he wanted to stay .

He wanted to live . 

"I’m not fine" He replied to Andrew, bitterness taking over his tongue as the bad thoughts took shape. "We’re leaving?"

Andrew didn't answer, just stood and walked to the door. Neil followed, his arms and legs number than when they'd gone into the meeting, his head so heavy it felt like it was made of lead.

The conversation he had with Aaron earlier was coming back every few seconds and it just made Neil worse because it felt like he was scheming behind Andrew's back by not letting him know his real chances of survival. The thought of betraying him hurt like Neil was being burned all over again, it was suffocating, paralyzing.

The foxes' reaction just… made it all too real. When it was just him and Aaron talking, or just his mind reminding him, it was simpler, more easy to ignore.

He was right before about how that meeting was going to be a shit show and the fact that he was sure didn't make him happy.

Andrew barely left his side as they exited the building, the only time he pulled back an inch was when he unlocked the stadium entrance door so they could both step outside.

Neil held out his hand in a request, giving Andrew a chance to say no before he ran his fingers through his soulmate's. He didn't, instead just tightened Neil's fingers in his, lifted and kissed his palm.

"Don't let it eat you alive, Neil" Andrew's voice rang in his head. He trailed the fingers of his free hand across Neil's cheekbones, resting his palm on his cheek. “Don't go where I can't follow you, where I can't protect you”

Neil covered Andrew's hand with his and leaned his face back until he could lay his head in the warm palm of his soulmate.

“I'm just tired”

Andrew's eyes were warm but concerned. He also thought the team meeting was a bad idea, but probably seeing Neil get inside his own head like that couldn't be fun.

"What do you need?"

Neil lifted his head and shook it, but he placed a long kiss on Andrew's palm, just as the other had done before.

It would be unfair to ask, his soulmate could never give him what he needed.

Mainly because not even Neil knew what he needed.

The thing about growing up denying yourself help was that by the time you decided it was time to ask for help, you were too deep in your own lies to know exactly how to express that you were hurting.

And even though Andrew knew how to read every bit of Neil, there were still parts of them the other didn't have access to.

“Feel something, I guess. Don't be so numb”

"To fight?" Neil shook his head.

"I don't have enough control right now not to hurt you"

"I don’t mind"

"And I'd rather cut my fucking hands off than hurt you" He took a small strand of blonde hair from Andrew and tucked it behind his ear. “Hurting you was never an option”

“It already hurts in other ways. It hurts when you walk away. I can see you closing in”

A rueful smile split Neil's face.

Andrew was so handsome, so beautiful that it hurt to look at sometimes.

Not only that, he was sensitive, kind and strong.

He was a wall, a protective barrier that Neil constantly used to keep himself upright.

The thing was, Neil was afraid that if he leaned on too much, the wall would collapse.

Andrew would crumble.

“Any answer I give to that would make you angry”

“So don't give an answer to a question I didn't ask, just say what I can do to help”

Neil closed his eyes and rested his forehead on Andrew's shoulder.

“Take me to the dorm? I just… don't want to think about how the foxes are right”

“About what?”

He could feel it on his skin, the blood sticky, hot and metallic smelling. He could remember the movement of his hands with knives drawn or his fingers on the triggers of a pistol pointed directly at someone's temple. If he concentrated, Neil could even feel the crook of his elbow grabbing someone by the neck and holding there until the air was gone completely and then twisting the bone until it broke.

“Me. Being a murderer”

Andrew glared at him, but didn't deny it. They weren't one to lie and Andrew knew well that Neil was a murderer, he had helped Neil in many of those deaths and he didn't regret any of them, Neil knew he didn't.

But he also knew that Andrew didn't like it when he talked about himself like that, he knew it made his soulmate's skin sensitive and hair stand on end.

He knew it, but he couldn't help it. Not at times like this. The feel of the blood on his skin was too present for him to just ignore.

  "You did what you had to do"

"I know that, Drew"

Arms wrapped around his waist and pulled him closer. Neil took a deep breath, wishing he could keep Andrew's scent so ingrained in his lungs so he could breathe in his soulmate with every breath he took.

“I just need this.” he whispered against the skin of Andrew's neck. “This is my home, you are my comfort. They can't take any of that away from me.”

Andrew didn't answer and didn't have to.

He just brought him even closer and rested his chin on Neil's exposed shoulder, his fingers making small circles on his back.

It was all Neil needed.

Andrew. 

— 

The way some of the Palmetto students decorated the foxhole court made it look like Halloween would come earlier this year.

One week.

Suspended training, suspended meetings. The whole team stopped in time.

The students weren't as paralyzed as they were, judging by the redecoration.

Where once the white ribbons had hung to celebrate the start of the season, now the black ones swayed in the light breezes of wind—a sign of mourning for that fox they lost. For Seth, who wanted to get better and the opportunity that was snatched from his fingertips.

Andrew didn't like the concept of revenge, but Neil was never better than that. He was so used to death since ever, so tired of all the blood and all the screaming and all the pain and grief, that revenge sounded nice. Almost pleasurable.

If nothing else, Neil owed Seth an death.

So he kept the image of those black ribbons fluttering through all that orange.

He kept the mental image of Allison's face when she found out the news, the loud scream that woke all the foxes. The unfocused eyes as she'd stared at him earlier that morning, the dark bags from sleepless nights, the greasy hair and lack of interest in her own image.

Neil knew people like Allison. People whose meanness, arrogance, anger and spite were the main fuel to keep them going. He knew the girl would recover, he also knew that she wasn't alone.

That wouldn't stop him from ripping Riko's head off with his fingernails.

Neil was already sweaty from running a few laps around the court, the hot blood making his shirt stick to his back beneath his Striker armor. Training was going smoothly, much more than he had really expected. Whatever had happened after he and Andrew left Wymack's conference room must have been enough for the upperclassmen to decide to stop staring at him as if Neil was death incarnate, which was good, because he really did. I didn't know if I could hold Andrew if he lost his temper with his teammates.

There was Allison, however.

She wasn't the same as at the meeting, her eyes were more focused, more awake. And she had her eye on him—well, on him and Andrew.

Neil didn't mind her looking, it was better than when the girl looked ready to snap in two every time she heard his voice.

“You look pensive” Andrew's voice drew his attention to where he was standing near the goal. He was standing, leaning against one of the beams. His racket resting on the floor beside him. “Be careful not to get hurt”

“Back to the insults phase?”

“Is it going back if she never actually passed?” Neil bit his cheek to contain a smile and resumed his run. “Tell me what you're thinking”

"Is nothing. Not exactly. Just… Allison looks better”

Neil didn't need to see to know that Andrew's critical gaze had turned entirely to the girl, that his eyes were probably half-lidded, and that his brows were slightly furrowed as he tried to see the thing that Neil had seen.

"Renee says she's doing better"

“Did you ask about her?”

"You worry about her. So I asked” It would probably be the highest importance the girl would receive in Andrew's eyes — since even if she and Renee were... something , still wasn't enough to make Allison visible to his soulmate. “But even if she wasn't okay now, she still would be. Grudges like that don't go away easily"

"Coming from you that's a compliment"

"Fuck you"

Neil chuckled and went back to focusing on his footwork.

They stayed at it for a while until Dan decided to start the real training. Neil didn't complain, all that nervous energy in his body would be much better spent on a game than running like an idiot around the court while dodging the balls Kevin kept throwing against the protective walls.

Training went smoothly, much like usual. Of course, he still caught prying eyes here and there and there was the very… fixed way Allison stared at him. But it was good, it was okay.

They were going over strategies for the next game when Neil realized that peace—as always—was only temporary.

The door through which the foxes entered the court opened with a bang, which made him attentive. There was no danger for Andrew here, but the alarms in his head were as good as the danger sensor.

Seeing Coach's expression certainly didn't help reassure him.

“Andrew Joseph Minyard , what the fuck did you do?

Neil felt himself stiffen, his posture straighten and he took a step towards where Andrew was standing, trying somehow to shield him from the line of sight of an angry adult male.

“Calm down rabbit” Andrew's voice remained calm in his mind, but that did little to dissuade Neil from baring his teeth at the accusation. “Neil”

He deflated and moved out of Coach's way to Andrew, but continued to watch as his soulmate walked with deliberately leisurely steps towards Wymack.

“Last time I checked, the order was innocent until proven guilty.”

“Cut the shit off. The police are on the line for you and you better explain to me before I decide to go with their version.”

Both Neil and Andrew stiffened at the mention of the police. And they weren't the only ones, Neil could see the way Aaron had turned fully into the conversation, eyes narrowed and hands in fists—he could also see the foxes' newly ignited interest in the subject.

“It was not me. Any chance of being my doppelganger?” It was visible the way in which Aaron relaxed to be included in the subject, even to be accused of committing some crime.

Wymack frowned and opened his mouth as if he wanted to say something, but changed his mind and took his finger off the speaker and put the phone to his ear.

"What's the matter, Officer... Higgins, you say?"

Higgins, the name echoed in Neil's mind, his blood turning to ice. His eyes widened at what that name meant.

If he concentrated, he could still feel the dread, the paralyzing feeling of not being able to talk to Andrew and still feeling all . 

The hands on them, the pain in the back of their necks, the scratches, the punches, the kicks. The whole fucking fight.

Neil knew that if Higgins was calling, Cass was back.

Or worst.

"Ah," Andrew said, sounding so serious he looked deadly as he closed the distance between Wymack and himself. Neil knew it was fear, that it was anger. I knew he was thinking the same thing as Neil and that now there was someone else who could be hurt by that little connection to the past. “No, Coach.

“Andrew”

"Not now"

Neil swallowed hard but accepted it. He didn't like it, but it was still Andrew's answer and he wouldn't force it.

Wymack waved him to be quiet, but Andrew grabbed Wymack's wrist and pulled the phone out of his reach. Wymack grabbed his shirt before Andrew could get away. Andrew didn't try to pull away, but his entire body burned with the sense of danger.

It made Neil queasy for a second before he was able to grip his grip back and realize there was a hand gripping him by the elbow and, looking over at the hand's owner, saw Aaron standing there with his brows drawn together and concern veiled.

Neil shook his head and muttered after , to which Aaron nodded.

"Don't make me wait all day," Wymack threatened, making Neil clench his fists in anger. Andrew turned not enough to let go, but enough to see his brother. Aaron tightened his hand on Neil's elbow and nodded. That made Andrew relax a little, enough for him to release himself from Wymack's grip and bring the phone up to his ear.

"Pig, is that you?" Andrew asked, his voice low and dangerous. “Oh yes. Yes, I'm surprised. Have you forgotten that I don't like surprises? More so, what do I not want to hear about you? What? No, do not wrap. You wouldn't come to me after all this time just to talk, so what do you want?” Andrew was quiet for a few seconds to listen, then said, ‘No’ and hung up. The phone started ringing again almost immediately. The Foxes were looking openly now, forgetting about strategy papers. Wymack didn't order them back on duty, so Matt sat on the floor, as if watching a show. Neil hated it, Andrew wasn't a circus attraction and he wanted everyone to stop to look .  

The officer called one more time and Andrew hung up again, but Higgins was persistent enough to call a third time. Andrew let it ring five times before answering with an explosive sigh.

“What the fuck do you want?” he answered and waited while Higgins explained again. Higgins continued for two minutes. Whatever he was saying couldn't be good; Neil knew all the signs that Andrew was about to break down the aloof facade, that the wall he'd put up by the two it was about to crumble.

And the second he saw Andrew's eyes widen, a strangled gasp escape his throat, and the hand that wasn't holding the phone fall limp to his side, Neil knew there was something wrong. very wrong.

Andrew was shaken.

He was scared . 

“What? How?” he asked softly and Neil had to hold his tongue from asking. Andrew's voice shouldn't sound like that, they were fighting so that neither of them would ever have to sound like that again. Why did they continue failing? “Fuck you, fuck you . It's not me, it's on you. Solve it and don't look for me anymore. Call again and I will kill you .” 

The silence on the court was charged, Andrew didn't move or say anything, he just stood there with his mask rebuilding itself so fast that Neil almost missed the moment when the pain in his eyes disappeared and was replaced by… nothing.

“Drew?”

There was no answer, but Coach didn't let him insist and took the floor himself.

“So what did you do?”

The hand on Neil's arm tightened and he didn't even have to look at Aaron to know that the same anger that burned in himself was also burning in Andrew's brother.

“Nothing.”

“The Oakland Police Department wouldn't care about nothing.”

It was kind of torture to see the way Andrew really was looking for words to somehow try to explain without having to give up that part of his story.

Neil tried calling again, but received only static. No voice, no thought. Nothing, just static.

“Higgins and I have history.” He spoke slowly and then looked away to meet Neil's.

It didn't exactly take a genius to connect the dots, from Wymack's expression Neil knew he thought so too.

Neil thought of Andrew saying: "Say you knew me while I was living with the Spears." And also the Coach's immediate acceptance and understanding of listening to Neil explain things.

It was the same this time. Wymack realized that whatever the cop wanted, it wasn't because of something Andrew had done. And yes for something that was probably done to him.

The Spears family was here again, to sink their toxic teeth into their soul mate's neck.

“Go home, kid. We'll talk later, but for now, go home.”

Andrew nodded.

“I'm going to need Renee.”

“Andrew, talk to me”

“Whatever you need.” Coach said, waving to Renee, who was watching everything in an attentive way and dropped her racket on the court, already walking towards Andrew.

Neil wanted to follow her, but Aaron and Andrew's no were holding him in place.

"I can't" And it hurt to be left out like that. It hurt. Neil wasn't used to being excluded from Andrew's feelings. “I will, but not now. I can't"

"I can fight you if I want, I won't ask"

Andrew shook his head almost imperceptibly.

“I need Renee. I won't hold back from hitting her" For a second, Andrew stiffened and his eyes became clearer, less closed. They looked sad. “I’m sorry, I’m going to hurt you”

"Everything is fine"

“Nothing is ever fine”

Andrew didn't say goodbye. He just turned and walked away, Renee a few steps behind him, leaving the court with only a quick wave of his hand.

Neil was too caught up in his own head to pay attention to the chaos of the foxes—Dan exploding demanding information, Matt following her, and Nicky prepared to offer bits of information.

Coach didn't seem concerned, if anything he just looked pissed at having taken the matter that way.

…Kevin was being, well, Kevin . So he was pretty much the only one there who actually still had any interest in the afternoon practice.

“I'm going to stop my stupid cousin from leaking information about Andrew. You'll be fine?”

Would Neil stay? Not having Andrew there now seemed like a lot… like the time they were trying to keep contact down because of Mary and the constant static wasn't doing them much favor given the situation.

He was afraid that if he closed his eyes he would feel that needle in his neck again and the deep cut in his arm. The burn in his legs and arms of someone fighting someone bigger, stronger. His brain melting as he screamed that Andrew was in danger.

Fortunately, that's not what came.

A solid blow to his face snapped him out of his reverie, soon his knuckles and shin ached in the wake.

It was Andrew and Renee. They must not have gone to the shed then, they must have been close by. That put him at ease.

Calm enough to even wince when he felt a kick in his ribs. It was nothing, it was almost comforting, even.

Andrew's pain showed that he was there, he was alive.

And that was absolutely all that mattered to Neil.

Andrew, alive and safe.

“Go.” Neil said, nodding. "I'll sit in the bleachers until he gets back."

Aaron's eyes seemed to be searching his face for something, something he didn't seem to find, if his frustration was any indication.

"You don't know what this is about, do you?" Neil denied. His throat goes dry at the thought that he had nothing there, that he was in the dark and that he couldn't  help "Why didn't you insist? It felt important. He… he was shaken.”

Because that wasn't how things worked between the two of them, it never would be.

Words had as much power as actions. Neil trusted Andrew as much as Andrew trusted him. They trusted each other to listen, to answer, to not hurt . 

“He said no.”

Aaron blinked.

"That is all?"

“That's all I need.”

It took a second, but Aaron nodded and turned to head toward the upperclassmen.

Neil didn't wait around to see what the other would do, he walked straight to the locker rooms, removed his Striker armor and took a cold shower. Eyes closed and forehead against the tile in the locker room showers—feeling a twinge and a twinge in his back, ribs, stomach, shoulders.

The latter caused him to rotate his shoulder, which was possibly a punch hitting Andrew way above where Neil was shot years ago.

Andrew must have realized where he was hit, because after that, that area was more protected than anywhere else.

Neil practically dragged himself to the stands when he was done, the blows Andrew took were getting weaker, but the ones he landed were only building in strength—he was almost sorry for Renee. Andrew wasn't good at holding punches, Neil's knuckles were really good proof of that.

The moment he sat down, his attention was entirely on the foxes that were still in the court.

He could see Dan with his arm around Matt's waist, Nicky gesturing excitedly, and Aaron with his arms crossed over his chest.

Surprisingly, they had managed to get Kevin out of his obsessive training streak and dragged him into whatever they were doing — Neil wasn't really concerned about what the hell they were talking about, Aaron was there and he would probably stop Nicky from talking very personal shit about Andrew.

To his right, something caught his eye.

It was the missing fox down there. Allison looked him straight in the eye, eyes hard and chin high.

“They're talking about you, you know that, right?” Neil shrugged.

The two had barely spoken since the whole fiasco happened, Allison always seemed to see a ghost when she looked him in the eye and Neil was fine with letting her hate him if it offered her any comfort.

The only people he's lost in his life are Ambre and his mother.

Mary wasn't a surprise—it hurt, of course it hurt. But Neil knew he was going to lose her, knew he would probably live to see her die. He didn't blame anyone, it was inevitable. Mary was always meant to die. He was made to be dead.

Amber was different.

She came into his life, gave him the warmth he needed, affection he didn't know, love he didn't even know he wanted. She taught him to be warm while keeping him warm and then she was taken from him.

He'd never had anyone to blame for Ambre's death but himself, so he could only imagine that it must be comforting to find a target for his anger that wasn't just his image in a reflection.

“It doesn't matter.” Answered the girl, just because she didn't know what else to say and didn't want to leave the silence.

Allison stared at him as if she understood, as if she saw the cloud that Neil's mind was turning into.

He probably could, at least if he really tried. Neil wasn't trying to hide it, he didn't have the need for the blank mask Andrew wore — he was just naturally hard to read. A habit acquired so young that it became more a part of his real personality than a resource for survival.

“Jesus, kid. Could you not look so pitiful?”

Neil looked her in the eye.

‘I don’t know what you want.”

The girl threw her long blonde ponytail over her shoulder.

“Can't you guess?”

“I'm not going to apologize. It doesn't fix anything.”

It probably wasn't what Allison was looking for, Neil was pretty sure what she wanted was answers . 

Why do you know so much?

Why did you help?

Why did my boyfriend have to die?

Neil didn't have some of the answers, and the ones he did, he wouldn't give it away like that.

“No. Probably I should apologize for putting you through this, but I won't. I just…wanted to say thank you. Because you tried. No one else tried.” Neil sat up straight, frowning at the girl. The conversation had taken a turn he… hadn't expected. “You're new here, Josten. The youngest. And yet you was the only one who tried to meet him. Who tried to help him. It wasn't your fault, Neil. You tried to save Seth, I know that. I know you wanted him on the team, and I know that if he'd been here, it would have worked out.” Allison sighed, her jaw a tight line. Eyes steady and bright, probably unshed tears. “The others put up with him and he put up with them back, but you tried and I was getting it. He liked you, said you reminded him of his little brother when they were younger. I'll give Riko fucking hell for taking him away from me, but I'll make you suffer even more if you start blaming yourself for his death. I saw how you were earlier in the meeting and… that , I'm sorry. I should have shut the others up sooner.”

Neil was probably staring at Allison like it was the first time he'd seen her, which would make sense. He kind of felt like it was the first time he was seeing her.

“But he was my fault. I provoked Riko, I brought him straight to you.” His brow furrowed. "I was just so angry . He wanted to hurt Kevin and then Andrew was there and I… I lost control and painted a huge target on both of you.”

Because as much as Seth was the weak link, the most obvious breaking point—it was still Allison who had the real power to definitely split the foxes in half.

Half the team would clearly side with her and consequently against Kevin, who would likely take the blame for Seth's death.

But it wasn't Kevin.

It was Neil.

“You are so stupid.” He blinked rapidly, as much in astonishment at the speech as he felt a twinge in his cheek. His eyes stung, but Neil just bit his teeth and held his ground. “Seth would do the same thing if he were in your place over there, you know? He was pretty soft when you knew him well.” She looked away from Neil to the court. “I thought we were going to break up for good when I found out that Renee is my soulmate. Yeah, you don't have to look at me like that, you fucking idiot.” Neil resisted the temptation to mumble how he wasn't looking and that he already figured there was something going on between Allison and Renee. Even if it was entirely thanks to Andrew's insight. “He said I was stupid and that I didn't have to choose. That he was happy to be one of the people I chose to keep in my life. He fought for me and for her, defended us when any talk of me cheating or not arose. He painted a target on his back all the time. He was an idiot, but he was... he was my idiot.” Neil closed his eyes so as not to give in to the curiosity of looking at the girl and her extremely cracked voice. “He'd sing to me, he'd hold me, he'd put Renee and me to bed when we were tired, and he'd sleep on the couch so he wouldn't be disturbed. It wasn't your fault, Neil, but it was Riko's. He took Seth from me and I need you to promise that if you ever get the chance to take all what that motherfucker loves, you go. Because I sure will.” There was a sniff, but Neil still didn't open his eyes. Hands combed his hair. “Don't blame yourself, little fox. It's idiotic and will only make your boy worried.”

Neil wrinkled his nose.

“He's not my boy.”

“Of course not, Josten. Of course.” ’ There was a pause. "I saw you two, I wanted to talk to you earlier, but…" Allison combed Neil's hair again. I admit. I was wrong about him. He looked so sweet there, Neil. He looked so careful.”

He swallowed hard, wanting to express how much Andrew was good and how fucking blind everyone was to not see it nearly winning him over.

But Andrew probably wouldn't like it. He never liked anyone but Neil seeing his tender parts.

“You were wrong.”

“He didn't make any loopholes to meet you, though. The monster facade is very convincing.”

This time he didn't respond directly, too focused on the lack of sensation from new blows to his skin.

"Hey" His heart stuttered for half a second before it calmed down and Neil could actually breathe .

"Hey you"

“Straight to the house?”

"And the others?"

"Aaron won't let Kevin kill himself"

“How long until we go?”

"I'll pick you up in a few minutes"

“That's just the way he is, Allison. That's how we both are." He smiled at her, or at least he hoped it was at her. Neil still didn't want to risk seeing her cry. "It's always been easier that way. Safer."

— 

The Columbia house was quiet and dark, but Neil breathed better than he had at any other time in the week.

Andrew's hand was warm on his back, it was a nice contrast against the icy wind that made his eyes hurt.

Neither of them had said a single word since they'd gotten in the car and driven to Columbia—Neil only knew they'd be staying for the weekend because they were both packed and in the backseat, big enough for a weekend entitled to a tour. Andrew would probably want to go out to clear his mind after his encounter with Ichirou the next day; of course, if Neil felt up to it. Which, to be honest, there were considerable chances that they weren't.

They entered the house on silent steps, as if they were both too concerned with the fragile comfort there was in the stillness to feel safe breaking it.

Andrew went straight up to their room— their room , because Andrew didn't like it when Neil cut himself out of his life. Everything in there was theirs, not just Andrew's—while Neil went into the kitchen to see if there was anything they could eat.

Unfortunately, there was nothing edible but an open and half-full box of Aaron's Cheerios. There wasn't enough sugar in that thing for Andrew to decide to eat it, and there wasn't enough milk in the house for Neil to venture a taste of the cereal.

A few minutes passed in Neil's relentless search for food before he heard footsteps coming from the stairs. He didn't even turn around when he felt the body approaching from behind him, he just closed his eyes and took a deep breath at Andrew's touch when his soulmate wrapped HIS arms around his waist and planted a kiss at the base of his neck.

"Are we going to order food?"

“Unless you feel adventurous enough to eat half a box of half-soft honey cheerios, then yes.”

Andrew rested his chin on Neil's shoulder, and out of the corner of his eye, he could see him wrinkle his nose.

“Honey Cheerios are disgusting. I don't know how Aaron eats this shit.”

"The same way you probably have chocolate syrup running through your veins instead of blood." he said and then he started to turn around, testing if Andrew would be comfortable with that. When he didn't receive a negative, Neil moved to face forward so he could face his soulmate. He was as handsome as ever, his eyes more golden than any other color in the light coming from the kitchen lamp. Neil looked carefully at the bruise blooming on the skin just beside Andrew's eye, on his chin and his split lip. He trailed a finger carefully over the broken skin and felt a faint twinge in his own lip, showing that the wound hadn't yet begun to heal. “Chinese food?”

Andrew didn't answer, just stared at Neil. He lifted a hand and ran it over the sore spots on his face, lingering especially on his lips the same way Neil had done.

“Does it hurt a lot?”

“We're feeling the same thing, Drew.”

Andrew shook his head.

“I feel like I keep hurting you when all you do is protect me.” He pressed Neil's lip a little hard, but it didn't do any harm. The pain didn't increase, he just felt the flesh pressing against his teeth. “I hate that.”

Neil grabbed Andrew's hands and placed them on his cheeks and squeezed hard.

“I don't hate it.”

His soulmate shook his head, his expression melting into something softer, something that was meant to Neil and only Neil to witness.

"I know, but it doesn't stop me from wishing you didn't have to get hurt, does it?"

Neil smiled a little and touched Andrew's forehead with his.

“I don't think so.” He pulled away and kissed his partner's cheek. "So, food?"

“Italian?”

"Pasta or pizza?" Andrew frowned.

“Italian restaurants hate it when we order pizza.”

“Do you mind?

“Absolutely not, I want half vegetarian.”

And so, for the next two and a half hours, they both sat in the room doing nothing. Just eating pizza and watching every version of Lilo and Stitch they could find—because it was Andrew's favorite animation and he had made Neil watch the first movie at least thirty times since it came out. Neil still remembered the first time he asked his partner why that particular movie was so important and also remembers the boring look and sarcastic response: ‘The story is about a monster who encounters a dysfunctional human who ends up accepting him the way he is and still manage to love him like nothing else matters? Put the pieces together, Neil.’

On the day, he was just upset that Andrew implicitly called himself a monster, but he started to look back on the movie fondly.

Mainly because the narrative served him well.

Both were on the couch, each on one side. Andrew was leaning against the far right, flipping through the channels on the TV with the lowest level of enthusiasm Neil had ever seen in his life; while he himself was leaning on the arm of the sofa in the left corner, a sketch pad in his hand and his oldest enemy—Crayons oil pastels.

No matter how stupid it sounded, he liked to hate something as harmless as a specific type of crayon. It was different from how his reality usually was: hating his serial killer father, his obsessive dead mother, hating the feel of blood on his skin, hating the recoil of a gun in his hands.

It was just a crayon, it was unable to hurt him. The worst that came out of that hatred was the frustration that the colors were all so messed up, the yellow and white that blended together awkwardly, the way the orange and brown looked gritty, the blue that no matter how many times he touched up, it never was deep enough.

It was one of the constant and most futile battles Neil fought in his days with Andrew. Picking up his box of oil pastels and then getting a headache for the next few hours as he finished a drawing.

Andrew never said a word about the complaints he made during those hours, he was probably also relieved that Neil managed to dislike normal things too.

Neil knew it was hard for his partner to observe how everything seemed to want to hurt him, the way that every thing, every little aspect of his life that Neil don’t chose, made him hurt more and more.

Maybe that was why, when his crayons started to wear out and lose their edges so that Neil really had to work to use them, Andrew would refill them and ignore the complaints about how he would now be forced to use the damn things again .

He had never been allowed to hate small things before—Nathan tried to get Neil any humanity that he could have and turn him into a little version of himself and Mary? She almost made it. With all the words, slaps, kicks, punches and hair pulling… Mary almost succeeded in ripping out of Neil any personality traits he might have wanted to develop, but Neil had Andrew there with him whenever he needed to remind himself that he was real and not just a product of his parents.

So…hating crayons felt almost liberating. It tasted of evolution, of healing.

Which was good, because he and Andrew both deserved healing.

Neil stopped drawing and stared at the silly sunflower he was making. The yellow was smudged, the grainy brown and the blue and white details of the sky he'd made were all mixed up in a way that Neil didn't like.

He hated the painting.

He liked having the ability to hate the painting.

Neil looked up to glare at Andrew, only to find him already staring at him. He smiled and put away his sketch pad, his box of chalks, the small type wiper and crawled over to Andrew's side on the couch.

His partner accepted him with open arms and Neil had no qualms about burying his face in the crook of his neck after a feeble invitation.

Andrew was still sore from earlier, Neil could feel it. But now he was there, safe and close at hand. Andrew was warm and comfortable and Neil adored him so much that hurt.

“Are you well?” he murmured against the skin of his soulmate's neck. In response, arms wrapped around him more tightly.

Scared.” Andrew replied, his forehead resting on Neil's shoulder. "Scared that we're going to get hurt."

Neil closed his eyes and drew random shapes on Andrew's back. A sun, a star, a tree, a flower.

"Are you going to tell me?" he asked quietly.

Andrew didn't respond right away, he took his time actually.

First, kissing Neil on the cheek, then standing up and holding Neil's face in his hands long enough that he almost thought Andrew wouldn't say anything.

Almost.

Neil knew the way his partner was looking at him—those restless eyes, searching, searching, memorizing.

He knew there was no way Andrew could forget the details about Neil, but he also knew what looking was to Andrew, what portraits were to him. The assertion that they were real, that they had lasted, had survived this far.

Andrew took a few seconds longer, but he finally sighed and said:

“Higgins called.” Neil nodded but didn't speak. He knew that, he also knew that Andrew was getting ready to say what had happened. “He was offering police protection.” Neil's blood stopped in his veins, froze. “Drake has escaped from prison.”

Neil sees red . 

Drake was free.

The world melted in pain, his mind screaming that Andrew was in danger, danger, danger

Once again, Andrew was in the crosshairs of disgusting people with a thirst for power over the weak again.

Neil would kill him with his own fucking hands.

The pain was so bad that Neil doubled over, his mother screamed at him and pulled his hair at the same time as he felt a long bruise break out on his arm, the familiar pain of a knife cut.

There was a twinge at the back of his neck and then his ability to speak to Andrew disappeared

Drake was free and could try to hurt Andrew. He couldn't have escaped on his own, not with how well guarded the prison was for sexual predators. And the timing was just too perfect, Drake got help.

He was helped to escape.

He would come after Andrew.

Neil ignored the pain and ran for the phone, locking himself in the bathroom and not caring what his mother screamed.

He called the police and begged them to help, to save his soulmate — because he could feel it, Andrew was fighting, but he couldn't fight forever.

Then there were hands gripping Andrew by the wrists so hard he could feel it, there was an ache in his shoulder, there was the burning in his throat and the taste of blood that Neil knew came from trying to scream and then…

Anything

Just Neil, the bathroom door open, his mother furious and her fists punching and hitting and pulling—

Someone had helped, someone who wanted the team hurt, someone who turned Andrew's life upside down enough to know that he'd suffered an attempted rape and where exactly the assailant was being held, and someone with enough power and money that he could get the son of a bitch out of jail.

Riko.

Neil got up from the couch and started pacing, anger choking him, the desire to get his hands on Riko and do something that would make Nathan proud.

His blood thawed, but it was running so fast it hurt.

Neil would kill him.

Riko, Drake — fuck, each one who already hurt Andrew.

He would kill himself if it was necessary so that his soulmate would not suffer again. He would bathe in blood, become his father , would follow his mother, give himself to Kengo, he—

Hands cupped his face and Neil blinked.

Andrew?

Andrew

“Can I—I, I can.” He ignored the sting in his eyes and the dry throat, focusing only on the feel of Andrew's fingers on his skin. Neil choked on air as he tried to ask again for something he had no idea what it was. He gripped Andrew's hands in his own and felt the contrast of their very hot blood against the cold hand of his soulmate. “Andrew.”

And then Neil was wrapped in strong arms, he was pulled to the ground, he was swallowed in a hard, rough hug that should have hurt but only comforted him.

There were half-angry kisses in his hair and the arms tightened around him.

“He won't catch up with us.” Andrew's voice was husky, low and deep. It was also empty , and not the normal kind, that forced emptiness that was almost never turned his way. Neil hated it when Andrew tried to mask his fear with apathy, hated even more that he was the reason Andrew didn't feel like he should let himself be vulnerable right now. “He will not”

He wouldn't, in fact.

Neil would grind him to a pulp of blood, flesh, and bone before.

“I can't see you like that again." he whispered with his face in his partner's chest, his Andrew. "I couldn't help it, it hurt so much to feel you struggling, Drew, I—"

He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to erase the image of the dark bruises on his skin, trying to erase the look of fear in his eyes, the way Andrew held him as he cried, the way he tried to strike a deal to be taken with them, just to have Neil close by his side. 

Distance hurt back then, it always hurt and it never stopped hurting. But the idea of Andrew anywhere near his mother was inconceivable.

Mary would kill him. Just for being who he was, for being Neil’s , she would kill him—and Neil would kill her just for thinking about it.

“I'm not thirteen anymore, Neil. I won't let him hurt us.”

He turned away from Andrew and shook his head, taking a few steps back. Just enough to be able to see his partner's face and make sure he was seen too.

“That's not what I'm worried about.” He said. “He… he hurt you, Drew. The idea of him getting close to you and forcing you to feel fear makes me nauseous. I don't want you to have to be reminded how much people fucked us up. I don't want you to have to face one of your own monsters .” 

Andrew didn't say anything, just stared at Neil — and Neil left him. For as long as he needed.

This was a reminder of how risky his presence here was for Andrew, how much Neil's existence endangered his soulmate.

At times like this, Neil thought that he should have accepted his mother's request, that he should have left everything, that he should have cut the tie and died alone and in silence without putting Andrew in the crossfire.

Because that's what Neil was created for in the end, to die.

Serve or die.

Why put Andrew into this? His partner had suffered enough without having to deal with Neil's shit.

“Stop this.” Neil felt a twinge in the left side of his head and then he realized he had closed his eyes. When he opened them, it was to see Andrew holding a lock of his own hair, his eyes wide and his other hand gripping the wrist where Neil knew the mark was. “ Stop it, I can't talk to you. We're losing connection again, I don't… Neil, stop whatever the hell you're doing.”

Neil's eyes widened as he tried and failed to call out to Andrew. He brought a hand to his chest, his heart racing and the fear of being empty again.

He didn't want to be alone again, he didn't want a repeat of Annecy.

Would Andrew be killed by Neil this time?

Would Neil have to hear his screams too?

Would Lola strike the final blow, or would Neil be merciful enough to come out of hiding so they could both die?

“Andrew—”

Then, for the second time in a short time, Neil was being hugged.

He clung to Andrew tightly and kept calling and calling in his mind. Andrew was right there, but Neil couldn't miss anything.

Anything

Andrew was all he had, Neil loved him, he would never leave him.

Sorry, he thought . I won't leave you, I won't run away, I don't want to be alone, sorry sorry

Tears streamed down his face as Andrew held him tighter.

“It's okay, calm down. Neil, hey, it's okay.” Andrew whispered in his ear. “We're going to be okay, Abram. We will be fine.”

Neil hadn't even realized how on edge he was since what? The start of the day?

From Seth?

No, since forever. Since he was a child, since he understood what was being done to him and his soulmate, since he had to kill to not be killed.

Since he started to think he wouldn't survive.

Neil was so fucking scared . 

“I don’t wanna hurt you.’  He answered also in a whisper. “I don't want you to be hurt in any way.”

Neil felt dirty, like he was betraying Andrew's trust.

Neil was going to die. He had already warned Aaron, left him to control the damage his death would do. The destruction that would remain of what Andrew is today.

He knew he would probably die, but now it felt different; as realization finally hit him.

Riko would do anything to hurt the people he wanted to see bleed, and even with what little power a second son possessed, he still managed to do things like that.

Nathan would be worse . He would do everything with his own hands and he had the power of the main house to do it.

Neil Josten is going to die.

“You're here protecting me, Neil. You would never hurt me.” Andrew said. His voice was soft, calm. He believed what he was saying. He believed in Neil. “I trust you with my heart. With my fucking soul .”

He cried harder, clinging closer to Andrew.

Sorry , Neil wanted to say. Sorry, I think I'm going to die.

I don't think you'll ever hear me say I love you.

"I can't let you get hurt" He said through the loop and almost fell apart at once when he saw that it worked. That he hadn't broken them again.

"I don’t mind. You being here makes it worth it.”

He knew it. He believed in it.

That was a problem.

Andrew would go through hell so they could live happily.

And Neil, he…

… he didn't want to die.

Neil didn't want to die, but he would make sure he fought tooth and nail to keep Andrew as safe as he could. And the way to make sure Andrew was safe was to be alive to continue to protect him.

Neil didn't have his hopes up yet, but for Andrew, he would try.

For Andrew and for himself.

I promise, he thought as he placed a light kiss over his partner's heart. The arms didn't give way, the grip didn't go away, and Neil didn't complain.

He closed his eyes, let the tears continue, and enjoyed the comfort that was Andrew Minyard's existence.

☽✴☾

Andrew wished that today was a different day.

Let it be sometime in the middle of the week, where they'd be sweaty and exhausted from a workout that seemed to last a lifetime. Where he would complain about the heat and Neil would smile at him, where Neil would sneak off to the college music studio between his breaks and take Andrew with him so they could play the piano for hours.

Any day would be better than today, especially considering how… bad things got the night before.

He still felt the broken connection like an open wound, fear digging between his ribs and taking root in his chest. Neil was right there in front of him, but then there was… anything . The connection was gone, everything that was Andrew’s had disappeared.

The sensation was so familiar, it nearly killed him to have to taste it again. He didn't know what Neil was thinking or doing that caused the always open door for Andrew to slam shut, but he…he didn't like it. I didn't want that.

He didn't want Neil to cut him that way.

He understood Neil's anger, though.

Andrew was also furious.

That was why he wasn't totally against the meeting that was about to take place, even though he had very strong reservations about it. Not that Ichirou could be trusted, he wasn't, but if there was anyone powerful enough to be a good ally to Neil in his war to earn a right to his own life, it would be him.

Andrew knew Stuart couldn't make it alone, no matter how hard he tried, how hard he fought, the Moriyamas viewed Neil as property—until one of them declared that it released Neil from any duty he might have owed to the Moriyamas, his soulmate would be considered property.

“Nervous?” Neil asked quietly from beside Andrew. None of them had said much that day, nerves and anxiety probably the result. There were very raw emotions probing them too, a lot of unspoken things. Very likely they would end up getting hurt.

It didn't stop him from answering, he didn't think there was anything in the world that could take away his need for Neil's voice.

"If he wants to take you, I'll kill him." Andrew answered as clearly as possible. It was the truth, Neil knew it was the truth, yet he still chose to just smile at him as if Andrew had said the sweetest thing. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?”

There were so many possible answers, mostly because Neil always looked at him as if Andrew were something sublime, a Donatello sculpture made just for him.

Sometimes it was too much to bear, sometimes it made him feel seen in a way that made him invulnerable.

But more than anything, Neil looked at him the way Andrew looked at him.

"As if you don't believe I'm real." His partner's face twitched a little and then broke into a small smile.

“Sometimes it's hard.”

Andrew knew that yes, he knew the feeling. It was the downside of being the dreamer between the two, Andrew could get lost in scenarios he created and reality.

There were times he couldn't tell the difference—it scared him when they were kids. There was also that nagging fear that someday he would open his eyes in one of his landscapes so carefully crafted to be a safe space for him and Neil and only realize that he had trapped them both in a nightmare.

Andrew held out his hand in an offer his boyfriend didn't refuse, his thumb circling the sensitive skin on the inside of his palm.

It was a good reminder for both of them that this was real and for that reason they should keep their guard up.

The place chosen for the meeting was remote, a forest very similar to the one where Andrew took Neil to observe the stars, but still different enough that there would be no bad memories related to the place of the two in case things here did not go as planned.

Ichirou was paranoid, deciding not to find Neil anywhere where there might be cameras or spies — and that fed a spark of hope in Andrew. One that said they had a new ally in man, not a future enemy.

Damn, they already had enough from that. No longer needed a future mafia leader breathing down their necks.

He knew it would be difficult for Ichirou to be like this, especially when he and Neil were united in childhood precisely because they had similar situations to deal with — protecting their soulmates from people who wanted to hurt them.

Andrew knew about Fleur, knew the way he'd endured literal torture for not giving his father information about her.

But he didn't trust human nature, man could have changed in those eight blank years, could have broken—Andrew knows he would have gone with Stuart in a heartbeat, seeking revenge on the Moriyamas and the Butcher's people if they had managed to get Neil out of it.

They waited in the woods for almost an hour, hand in hand and heart in their throats, until after a while they heard the sound of footsteps breaking the fallen leaves on the ground.

Neil immediately went into attack mode and Andrew watched the almost unconscious way he placed himself between Andrew and the newcomer.

He allowed it, not out of concern for his own safety, but for Neil's peace of mind and focus. Andrew knew his partner wouldn't be able to concentrate if he was directly in the line of fire, so he let him protect him for the time being.

That quickly changed when Andrew saw coming out from behind a tree a man taller than the two of them, with a black shirt and pants and hair so dark it almost blended into the shadows caused by the low light.

Ichirou Moriyama stopped a few steps away from them, never lowering his head as he walked. Neil lifted his chin, one hand coming up to stop Andrew from stepping in front of him.

At times like this, he always saw his partner's back. Strong, steady, Neil wouldn't move if he thought something might happen, he would stand there no matter what the consequences.

Andrew hated it, hated that sometimes the only thing he could do was be the person who watches someone else's back.

Both men came face to face, Ichirou's eyes passing over Neil completely as if sizing him up.

He thought the words would take a while to come out, but they didn't. Andrew was surprised by Ichirou, future mafia leader, future owner of Neil, stepping forward and grabbing his soulmate in a hug.

As much as Neil denied his friendship with Ichirou, Andrew had enough eyes and intelligence to know that it wasn't just complicity, that it was more than just understanding.

Neil enjoyed Ichirou's presence before and apparently he still did now — at least that's what he implied from the way he barely hesitated before hugging the man back.

“You were out, Nate. Out of his reach, why did you come back? You were out.”

It took Andrew half a second to feel responsible, or even guilty, for Neil's decision. He knew that if it weren't for that day where they first met, Neil would still be running. He would also be safer, probably.

That all went out of her mind the moment she heard Neil's voice saying:

“I was tired of running, Ro. It was time to stop.”

It was probably the first time Andrew had heard him speak so bluntly that he was tired of being a fugitive, it made him swallow hard, his stomach warming at the thought that Neil was willing to fight.

He watched for a few seconds longer as the Moriyama heir squeezed Neil tightly before letting go. Immediately, the dark eyes turned to Andrew appraisingly.

“It's this one? Yours?”

Neil snorted at the same time Andrew raised an eyebrow.

“Yes, this one.”

"Hm," Ichirou muttered, Andrew's assessment not letting up for even a second. “He is good?”

The for you it might as well have been spoken aloud. Andrew lifted his chin and clenched his jaw. Sure, the man was protective of Neil, he could imagine that, but it was still uncomfortable having to be judged by an outsider.

“Ichirou.” Neil's voice was soft, but his expression wouldn't fool anyone, not with the steel in his eyes and especially not with the way he took a step to put himself between the two men and block Ichirou's view of Andrew. “No.” The other blinked, but nodded. The message delivered efficiently, Neil let the ice in his posture melt to a friendly ember, an invitation to the nostalgia of finding his friend after so long. “How is Fleur?”

And then, as if breaking the spell of that friendly reunion, Ichirou sighed.

Not a sigh of boredom, or exasperation. It was weariness, it was exhaustion.

“That's why I needed to find you.”

And then Ichirou started to explain what was going on, his plans, what he hoped could happen in the year.

Andrew listened quietly and with a dry mouth. The heart fluctuating and racing at three specific points:

Ichirou was going to kill Kengo.

And Riko should be killed.

And a debt had to be acquired. The latter being the only one Andrew cared about. The only one he protested, mostly because Neil had been the one to point it out.

“Your people will not accept me leaving the Moriyamas when I was made to be the next butcher. They need to know you owe me, Ro. I need to be able to claim my freedom as payment.”

The look on Ichirou's face was one of weariness, but there was nothing but resignation. He seemed to like the idea as much as Andrew did.

Them knowing that Neil was right was just a small detail.

“There's only one thing that could leave you this kind of debt, Nate.” The man looked older than he really was for just a second and Andrew almost forgot that Ichirou was barely three years older than Neil. That they were children when they banded together to share the burden of being heirs to their respective empires and the pain it brought them. “There must be one life saved to claim another. And the only thing that I can think of it could work would be—”

The other broke off, mouth snapping shut, eyes widening as he ran his fingers through his short hair and hissed as he brought the other to his chest.

His soulmate . The other reason he was so protective of Neil when they were kids—his soul tie to Fleur. Ichirou could feel every emotion his soulmate felt, as well as share his own, and Fleur had the ability to send and receive small spectral butterflies, each of which could only contain a single sentence.

Communication between them was difficult, sparse, but they made it work.

Andrew had no idea how things had developed during the time gap that was Neil's absence.

“What? Ichirou, what?” Ichirou shook his head, a frustrated sound coming out of his throat.

"Too dangerous, Fleur would kill me if I got you into this." He spoke a little hoarsely, his hand still on his chest, probably overwhelmed by whatever emotion he'd received.

“Try us.” Andrew spoke, probably for the first time since the man began his explanation. “We're as desperate as you are, in case you haven't noticed.”

Ichirou stared at him for a second, before sighing and closing his eyes, only to open them again and then stare at Neil.

“Nathaniel, this is not a request. I'm just explaining the situation, not asking for your fucking help, you understand?” Neil didn't say anything, just nodded before letting his head tilt slightly to the right. Ichirou sighed again. “After you were taken, my father was furious at losing you and, since your mother always talked to Nathan about how uncomfortable she was with your soul bond, he ordered that their people find his children's soulmates so that we wouldn't have the same future problem.” Andrew watched Neil's posture falter for a moment and then immediately recover, not giving Ichirou time to catch the small slip. "He killed Riko's soulmate, but Fleur... he committed the safety of her and her family. He bought her brothers and had she locked up. I can get her back but not her brothers and she won't get out of this situation without them. Kengo uses it to keep me in check, he thinks otherwise I'd run away from him like you did.”

Screw this , now Andrew understood why Ichirou had hesitated to say. Just look at Neil, fuck.

“Where are they?” His soulmate had that look Andrew hated, the one that reminded him of the old descriptions of heroes preparing to go into battle. If Andrew could use a more tangible comparison, he would say that those tired eyes, furrowed brow, and straight spine were exactly what a soldier about to sacrifice himself in war would look like.

"Neil—"

"Let me hear it first, Andrew"

"His expression isn't the best and it's the Moriyamas guarding whoever it is, it's going to be impossible"

Neil's gaze turned to him, still looking completely unforgiving. Even from the front, it was still as if Andrew was looking at his back.

Obnoxious, stupid, reckless.

Andrew hated him.

"Did you give up? Because I didn't"

His jaw tightened to the point of pain, but Andrew didn't say a word. It was annoying because Neil was right. No matter how difficult it was, they had few options, which was why they were having this meeting in the first place—to get a chance, an opening.

Something that was tangible in their fight for Neil's life.

Andrew sighed.

“Where?”

Ichirou looked between them, probably guessing that there was something there that they didn't know.

“The youngest is somewhere in the UK. Probably Ireland or Scotland, he's been guarded by my father's men for years.” Ichirou took a deep breath, rubbing his hands over his face. “The other one is in the nest. It was given as a gift to Riko, in compensation for killing his soulmate.”

Neil sucked in a breath with the realization.

Fucking Jean Moreau

It would be one thing to be able to invade wherever the youngest was, especially with him in the United Kingdom, domain of Stuart — it would be another thing to enter the lions' den, the nest was literally a trap set for them.

Made for Neil . 

"Would that put you in debt?"

Andrew's neck cracked at how quickly he turned his head.

“ Neil —”

“I know , Andrew. But—” Neil's gaze remained on Ichirou. "Would you?"

He watched the way Ichirou's Adam's apple bobbed up and down, how his eyes closed, how his fingers shook as they ruffled the strands of his own hair.

“I would never send you there.” he said, which was answer enough and they both knew it.

"Andrew" Neil called out, but he didn't answer. He just closed his eyes and held his breath. He knew, he knew which was a good option. He knew they were desperate and he knew they both must be prepared for sacrifices.

Andrew just didn't want the sacrifice to be... Neil. 

"If one of us goes, can I be in the nest?" He opened his eyes, his soulmate's expression was a soft, sad smile.

"You wouldn't go in. It's not you who Riko wants"

Andrew groaned, chest tight and aching, a lump in his throat.

"He doesn't want you either, Riko wants Kevin"

"Riko wants something that will make Kengo look at him as more than a spare piece on a broken board. That's why he kept tagging me when we were kids, Riko wants me because his father wants me"

The memory of the black permanent marker staining Neil's cheek every time he angrily wiped it away, the way Riko tried to grab Neil by the wrist even though he was scared, the way Kengo always looked at them when Neil was around and how it made Riko's chest swell.

Again, Andrew knew Neil was right, there was no way he could get into the nest himself—but Neil? Riko would invite him, demand his presence, in fact.

He lifted his hand and rested it on his partner's cheek.

"You're going to get hurt"

"I'm willing if you help me get back to you"

"That's what worries me" Andrew said, his voice sounding sadder for the mental bond between them than it would have if he'd spoken aloud. "How far would you go, the things you would do for me"

Neil laid his own hand over Andrew's, the touch light and warm. He laid his face on their hands, eyes closing and whispered between them:

“Everything, Andrew. Anything .”

They looked at each other for a long minute, Andrew's response to that affirmative burning on his tongue.

Because Andrew would also do everything for Neil, anything for Neil.

It's been that way since he was seven years old.

Turning quickly to face Ichirou, he didn't try to remove the harshness from his voice:

"If he goes to the nest, can you guarantee he'll make it out?"

The man's eyes widened and he took a big step back.

“Nate, I would never send you there.”

Andrew rolled his eyes, but Neil smiled.

“You don't have to, the idiot will get the oldest and I'll get the youngest. You just have to make sure he may leave, that he will not be obliged to remain trapped in the nest.”

The other's astonished gaze turned to Andrew now.

“They'll hurt you. Riko… Riko is cruel, I have the reports about things that happen in the nest, Nathaniel will be tortured.”

His jaw clenched for a second, but then he forced himself to relax.

It didn't work out well, but they would have to work with what they could.

“I know.” He growled and looked away at Neil, who was already looking at him. “And I need you to assure me that he's going to make it out so I can take care of it.”

Neil's hand squeezed his and his soulmate smiled.

“This is insane. Of course, I can guarantee that Nate leaves and I can guarantee that you won't be too hurt looking for Fleur's brother in the UK, but—” Ichirou took a deep breath. “It's still insane.”

They knew it.

They knew, but it's not like there were any other options.

Neil came to Palmetto having promised Andrew one year and he knew that if they failed during that time, Neil would either end up dead or back in the race.

A year wasn't enough, but that's what Andrew had.

Even though it still hurt like an open wound to let Neil go into the wolf's den like that, knowing that by the time he got him back, his partner would be hurt beyond measure.

“Let's plan.”

And they did. Discussing details, possibilities, chances and unpredictability. They tried to cover everything but eventually ended up ending the meeting.

Planning, thinking and reading about the things that happened in the nest were more than enough to send him on edge.

Andrew couldn't let go of Neil's hand for at least an hour.

They got home exhausted, but since then they've just been talking about how… they're going to do things.

About how they would deal with Neil in the nest, with Andrew in the UK with the people of Stuart, about how they would deal with the pain to come.

Neither of them had an answer to that, both were brave enough to admit that they were scared of the other being hurt.

They were lying side by side on the bed in Columbia's house—hands connected, eyes in eyes, both breathing in each other's scent.

Neil's fingers were running over the various piercings in Andrew's ear—the ones he'd pierced himself, because the idea of him allowing anyone else to hurt Nei being too unbearable, even if it hurt both of them more in the end precisely because Andrew was doing this alone.

"I'm thinking of making another one." he said, touching Neil's free hand with his own. Andrew ran his fingers gently over the back of his partner's hand, practically drowning in the satisfied grunt that came from Neil at the slightest touch.

“Can I help you?” he asked softly, they were so close he could feel the minty breath on his face, the breath of warm air that smelled like toothpaste. Andrew wanted to kiss him.

“That's what I'm asking. I can always give up on the idea.” Andrew's hand left Neil's and began to run his fingertips over Neil's face. His nose, the freckles on his forehead, the small acne scar on his cheek, the small moles near his eyes, the thick scar bisecting his eyebrow. “I know it hurts.”

Neil closed his eyes and sighed, he looked soft that way. There was nothing tense about his posture, it was just calm and delight.

“I'll help if you let me do your portrait.” Andrew rolled his eyes, the memory of Neil telling him he'd bought a screen big enough for both of them to hide behind wasn't so recent anymore, it had been before the whole thing got so…bad. He found it kind of ridiculous at the time and it left him without a real answer. But Andrew didn't say no, which was probably why Neil was asking again. An exchange, fair for fair. Thus both would suffer together.

Neil with weeks of healing and Andrew with days and days and more days of Neil trying to feel satisfied with the outline of the painting, then giving up the paper and painting the canvas altogether.

He frowned, wondering if a new piercing would really be worth going through with it and then immediately dismissed the thought— he wanted it and Andrew was trying to work on the things he wanted. Bee said he was making progress —with the idea of getting a rod in metal through the nose.

Andrew already had bouts of allergies and sneezing with the slightest of pollen seasons or very cold weather, he couldn't help but imagine sneezing in the process of getting a piercing and doing it all wrong.

“Where are we doing this?” Neil asked about the bow, but Andrew wrinkled his nose and poked him hard in the ribs, but it didn't elicit any reaction from Neil.

"Talk out of my head. We’re alone.” His partner smiled, a happy, amused little thing. It was one of Andrew's favorite smiles, one he knew only he was allowed to see. “Sept.”

It was Neil's turn to wipe his nose, probably more out of sympathy than fear of pain.

“Your nose is small.”

“I know that, Neil. He’s in my face.” The boy rolled his eyes.

“You move it while you talk, it's going to fuck up the healing process.” Andrew knew about that too. It was something Neil and he had in common, the thing they were unable to talk without their noses moving. And even knowing that, even knowing that it would, in fact, fuck up the healing process, Andrew just stared at him with what he knew was the blank stare that would tell Neil exactly how little Andrew cared about that shit. Apparently it worked, because not half a minute later Neil groaned in frustration and rested his head on Andrew's shoulder. "Fuck, I hate you."

He hummed and moved his fingers to Neil's lips, pressing his thumb there.

Neil was a talented liar, but when he said he hated him, even just in a joke like that, his lips always twisted a little in displeasure. As if he didn't like the sound of that coming from him.

It was stupid.

“The healing period isn't too bad.”

“Yeah, because you're going to respect that shit, aren't you?” Neil raised an eyebrow. The little quirk of displeasure fading from his lips.

Andrew snorted and pushed Neil lightly onto the bed, testing whether he would be allowed to sit on his partner's waist.

Neil grinned, his hands moving to Andrew's hips and helping him stay there.

“If I fuck up the healing process then you're entitled to more paintings.” His soulmate's eyes lit up and the smile growing on his face crinkled his lids as he squinted.

"And the fact that you can't kiss me if the piercing doesn't heal properly has nothing to do with it, does it?"

Andrew looked at Neil's lips; red, moist and soft. Fucking inviting and probably Andrew's favorite thing to taste it.

They were addictive, hot against his.

Andrew loved licking them.

He moved closer, taking his time until he was just an inch from Neil's mouth, the warm air of his breath hitting Andrew's lashes—both his hands gripping the pillow next to Neil's head to keep him steady in that small space that separated them.

Neil's hair was down, spread across the pillow, and even though Andrew missed the red, he still had to admit that black looked good on his partner—the way it made blue eyes more piercing, the way it made the brown of his skin into an almost refreshing thing to behold.

He still wanted Neil's hair back in its original hue, but it was impossible to say that Neil wasn't attractive with the dark palette.

“Of course. That's the most absurd thing that ever came out of your mouth.”

The happiness on Neil's face was sickening.

"So if I lean in a little, will you back off?"

“Absolutely.” Neil crooned, eyes tracing Andrew's mouth.

"Should I try?" Andrew tightened his grip on the pillow and let his forehead touch Neil's.

“Should you?”

Then without further words, Neil bowed. The space between his lips was already small, but he still managed to approach in a way where skin didn't touch skin. Neil's eyes weren't on Andrew's, they were lower, still locked on what he wanted. Andrew felt warm even though his stomach was cold with that pleasant jittery feeling that kicked in whenever he got a taste of any part of Neil.

“If you want it, then just take it, Drew.” he whispered, and the way the minty breath filled Andrew's breath was almost excruciating.

And he took it.

Andrew filled that ridiculous millimeter that separated him from Neil's heat and sank his mouth to Neil's.

His hands left the pillow and found Neil's warm, strong back, pulling him up, for more contact, for more skin, for more and more . 

He sucked in Neil's breath into his mouth, feeling his own lungs trying to warn him that even though kissing Neil made him feel like he wasn't human—he should still breathe and do boring, futile mundane tasks.

Andrew didn't care, everything he wanted was there, warm and supple in a bed of their own, where they were both safe and alone.

He slipped his hands until they found Neil's and then lifted them until they were on the headboard, where Andrew pinned him by the wrists. He left Neil's lips with a brief gasp only to focus on the thin skin of his neck, his tongue against Neil's pulse and tasting the salt of the skin there—all of it making him rattle like a drug addict, the taste, the smell of Neil getting into his system and telling him he was addicted, a goner.

Neil moaned beneath him as Andrew sucked on a mark just below his collarbone and then flattened his tongue against the warm skin.

He lifted his face and glared at his boyfriend.

Neil's cheeks were red and he already looked a little destroyed just from Andrew's kisses.

This was his Neil, sensitive, responsive, so warm and delicious it made Andrew hungry.

His hands tightened around Neil's wrists as he finally seemed to realize that Andrew was staring.

Neil was stupid, brave, stubborn and scared the shit out of him.

Neil made him regret promises, broke his word, lied through his teeth and made him vulnerable.

Andrew adored him for every one of those things because if tasting Neil made him feel almost inhuman, having Neil made him the most human thing that could possibly exist.

Andrew would be a monster for him, for Neil he would do anything.

He would give anything.

“Mine.” he murmured against his soulmate's lips before sinking completely there; tongue, heart, body and soul. Everything belonged to Neil, but Neil belonged to Andrew.

He kept that in mind as he dug into his partner's skin, biting, kissing, licking and scratching.

They would inevitably be hurt during the year, but Andrew would prove that Neil belonged with him, no matter what the fucking mob had to say about it.

They would end that year with Neil alive and free, even if Andrew had to snarl it in Kengo's face.

Neil was Andrew’s . 

And whoever tried to take it from him would lose, he would do whatever was necessary to make that happen.

☽✴☾

The thing about having a plan, a purpose, it's just that once you have that in mind, time passes quickly around you.

The next few games of the season went by in the blink of an eye — the new team setup still being a challenge for Neil, mainly because it was making life difficult for all the foxes and Wymack just couldn't accept that Neil could play a full game, which he could.

Things were quiet, almost too peaceful and Neil couldn't really enjoy the lull, not with the constant threat that hung over Andrew, his team and him.

The awareness of his own mortality became a recurring topic in his thoughts, the way he was almost always trying to think of ways to avoid the almost inevitable, ways to figure out possible scenarios where he stayed alive and wasn't forced to destroy Andrew in the process. 

It was a lot of work, but knowing that at some point in the year they would get Ichirou with a life debt to pay was a hope that Neil didn't even bother trying to extinguish.

If things went as planned, Neil would be under Moriyama's protection, no longer seen as property but almost as a member.

In a way, being someone with such a debt to collect in the world where Neil was born was even more important than acknowledged members of any inner circle.

So they were… trying. Andrew and Neil were trying.

It was still difficult, but the weeks passed and the two still continued to fight.

But they were nothing more than fighters—the two had been fighting since birth, their legs kicking anyone within reach and using their teeth to tear flesh if nothing helped.

Neil wouldn't give up on Andrew without good reason, he wanted to live.

Neil liked the feeling of being alive, even if his face ached from a stupid piercing his soulmate decided he wanted. He liked living with the feeling of dipping his hands in ink and running them across a huge blank slate and creating the settings that he never got the chance to actually visit, but he wanted . 

Neil liked to live and he didn't want to give it up, not when the possibility of freedom finally seemed tangible, not when Andrew seemed genuinely happy that they had a chance, even if it meant they would have to bleed for it.

So yes, Neil was very aware of all the dangers around. He was keeping himself alert as he basked in his newfound hope of freedom.

Drake was free and managing to get away from all the men Stuart had put behind him, Kengo was still breathing, Riko was still lurking and Nathan was still hovering over Neil like an ominous cloud.

The monsters in their closets were right there, ready to sink their claws around their necks—and yet Neil and Andrew were up and would remain.

A twinge shot through his nose as he saw Andrew pick his still barely healed nose and Neil kicked him lightly, promptly receiving a blank stare in return.

“Don't fuck scarring.” Andrew held up his middle finger.

"My nose is itchy"

“Must suck to be you then. Don't fuck with scarring.”

"Fuck you, Josten"

"Maybe after you can talk without losing blood."

"It's not that bad"

Neil raised an eyebrow feeling his lips curl into a smile.

"Remind me how many times you had to clean this mess up today?"

The answer didn't come, at least not in the form of words.

No, Andrew just crossed his arms, stared at him for a solid minute, then turned and walked out of the room.

Neil laughed, the sound of laughter itself being a little strange to him. Still, happiness burned in his chest.

Neil was ready to fight.

He closed his eyes, fingers going up to where his mark was and tightening the fabric covering the two foxes.

Neil would do whatever it took.

— 

He was standing in front of the mirror, nose wrinkled and feeling completely out of place with what he was seeing.

Neil couldn't say that he missed the dark red in his hair, but he could objectively say that it made him more attractive. The natural shade of his hair made his eyes look even lighter and highlighted his freckles.

Being that way also meant that Neil was back to looking like Nathan, which made his stomach twist, his chest ache, and his throat close up.

“Neil.” The voice sounded flat, but he knew where to look for affection there. Andrew was worried since they decided to dye his hair that early morning. He had already decided to stop running away for a while and, with the prom coming up, he thought it would be a good opportunity to at least stun Riko a little by showing up looking like he did when they were kids. “Everything will be alright. Nothing will happen.”

I will protect you, was what he seemed to say instead. Neil didn't need to be a genius to understand the meaning behind the words.

Andrew was nervous. There were too many threats looming over the two of them and he knew his strength alone wouldn't be enough to stop most of the things that were coming at them—Neil understood that, that frustration. Mainly because, in part, that was also one of the reasons he was so tense.

His appearance would not only put a target on Andrew and Neil’s backs, but on the foxes and his soulmate's family as well.

Neil was willingly becoming a power line with no protection that would hurt anyone who got close, and it was hard to consciously put that kind of weight on Andrew's shoulders.

 “I had already forgotten what I looked like.”

Andrew's fingers slipped into his and closed in a tight grip. His skin was cool in contrast to Neil's, which was almost always too hot—it was calming, the contact with Andrew being terrifying enough that he was able to actually look in the mirror.

Neil wasn't a scared kid anymore, he wasn't Nathaniel anymore.

He spent years training, running and killing. Neil was more than a scared little boy, he was frightful and he knew it.

Neil was strong and wouldn't go down without a fight, mainly with Andrew constantly putting himself in the way between him and danger.

He sighed and returned Andrew's grip, closing his eyes and turning to lay his head on his partner's shoulder.

Andrew's free hand wrapped around his waist and the one Neil held was brought up until it was level with his heart. He sighed and let his weight fall onto Andrew as he melted into the half hug.

“I never forgot.” Andrew said. Warm breath sending shivers down the back of Neil's neck.

“Eidetic memory.” Andrew's arm tightened around him.

“I don't need this to remember what you look like.” Neil snorted, but didn't try to diminish the significance of that. "Are we going to get on the bus or do you need some more time appreciating yourself in the mirror?"

“You're a dick.”

“They told me.” The hand crept up his back until Andrew grabbed his neck. "Do you need me to leave?"

He shook his head and took a step back and out of Andrew's arms. Both had a deadline until Coach got impatient enough to go check on them, and what was done was done, Neil Abram Josten stopped running.

This time permanently.

He knew that stopping hiding his image was the last thing between him going and staying—and now that was over.

Neil would not run again.

He wouldn't tell Andrew that, though. No, Andrew was functioning on the assumption that if a year passed and the two still couldn't find a way to free him, Neil would run back from his father's family.

He wouldn't, not anymore. It was life or death and deep down he always knew it. That there would be no option but to fight or die.

However, Andrew didn't need to know that things were so final. No, he already had too much weight on his shoulders.

Neil took a deep breath and looked into Andrew's eyes, the green lines were more vivid today, they seemed to stand out more between the brown and gold.

He looked strong, was strong. Andrew was their bedrock and fuck they would go to fight.

It all started now.

Riko wasn't going to sit by and let the way Neil was affronting him go by and that was what they were counting on.

Neil would create a situation that would send him right into Riko's clutches at one point, only to return the favor later on.

“I'm ready to go whenever you are.”

Andrew stared at him for a second, assessing and probably looking for any breakdowns that would eventually arise. But not right now, Neil was sure of that, and by the way Andrew nodded and turned to pick up their backpacks, he seemed to agree.

Upon exiting Andrew's bathroom, where they'd been locked for hours after profusely ignoring Kevin and Nicky's screams and protests — and a few sullen mutters from Aaron, Neil was immediately greeted by a gagging sound.

He took a deep breath, it was two different things knowing he had to face Kevin and to have to actually do this.

It was obvious the way his—probably? His childhood friend backed away as Neil closed the bathroom door. The wide eyes and the hand going towards the face, right where his tattoo of two was.

It was a little interesting to watch the way Kevin put two and two together; Riko's reaction to Neil, the look of the biggest killer he knew, and Neil's obsession with exy. It was almost as if he could see the cogs working together and moving to bring Kevin to his conclusion who Neil was .

It was different from Ichirou for sure. Kevin looked like he'd seen a ghost, one of the living dead, almost as if the image of Neil was something ominous that gave him nightmares.

Not that it was too far from the truth.

“Nathaniel?” The shocked and scared tone was, in some ways, better than what Neil had expected. Even though he didn't like being called that, it was still the only way Kevin knew how to call him when they were friends.

“Hey Kevin.” He wrinkled his nose at his friend, Neil would have to make sure he wasn't left alone with a bottle of vodka during the day. “Don’t call me like that.” It was almost funny the way Kevin looked frantically between Neil and Andrew. He looked half watching a tennis match and half wondering if Neil would hurt him and if he should run and hide behind Andrew. “You know I won't hurt you, jerk. When did I do this?”

The other's open mouth snapped shut and he swallowed hard.

“You look like him.” The knot in Neil's stomach tightened and he clenched his jaw. That hurt to hear, especially coming from Kevin, even more so when Neil was trying almost desperately to hold on to the fact that the way he looked didn't make him his father.

He didn't say anything, though. And he didn't even have to, when Andrew opened his mouth and said the other man's name in a warning tone.

Andrew's jaw was set and Neil knew he was doing his best not to pull a knife on Kevin by the way he was looking, but that wasn't what they had to act on.

It was about how Kevin should stop acting like Neil was going to kill him and see how Neil could protect him.

"Riko won't even look at you." he said, knowing that would get Kevin's attention. “Not with me there.”

Kevin opened his mouth and closed it like a fish. The wide eyes and obvious fear in the expression. Neil had to remember that the last time Kevin had seen him as Nathaniel, he'd slit a man's throat after his father made them watch said man being tortured.

Of course he was scared. Of course he was afraid of Neil.

He closed his eyes and held his breath for a second, if Neil was going to stop pretending to be someone he wasn't he would have to get used to the fear that would come with that.

Inhaling deeply, he opened his eyes ready to tell Kevin he didn't have to worry, that Neil would probably die before he hurt him, arms wrapped around him gently.

His eyes widened.

"I thought you were dead." Kevin said quietly. Neil watched in shock as Kevin ran a hand through his hair, his chin tucking into his head. “You were crying the last time I saw you. You protected me all the time from Riko's tantrums and I didn't even hug you while you were crying.” The hug tightened, but Neil still wasn't sure what was going on. "I thought he killed you after that, Riko was so pissed he missed out on having you. Ichirou stopped showing up and he was so mad .” Kevin shook his head. “You were a child, I thought they had killed you. You were a child, you were crying and I didn't hold you.” He squeezed a little harder. “I’m sorry about that.”

Neil frowned and sighed, accepting the awkward situation and forcing himself to relax.

“You were a child too." he murmured.

Kevin pulled away, eyes shining and teary. He shook his head.

“There’s no children in the Nest. You protected me from Riko, I should have done something. If not during games, then at least that last time.”

Neil backed away further, taking long strides back until he was within reach of Andrew, who immediately grabbed him by the scruff of the neck. Neil used the touch, the coolness of his soulmate's fingers, as an anchor. A reminder that he was in Palmetto and not Edgar Allan, that he wasn't covered in blood, that he hadn't just slit a throat, and that his mother wasn't going to show up at any moment in his room demanding he pack because they were leaving.

“I'll explain everything to you sometime, probably after we get back, but I need you not to freak out when Riko sees me. He already knows who I am, he's going to be angry and aggressive, but you know I won't let him hurt you, Kev. I need you not to panic, can you do that?”

And Neil knew Kevin could, because if he was anything, he was brave. It might not seem like it, but it wasn't just anyone who would live what Kevin lived, who would see what he saw and still get breathe in the same environment as the aggressor himself.

Kevin was stupid, an dick and a pain in the ass. He was a terrible coach, a pathetic excuse for a teammate, but he was a good friend and a good person.

He was strong and hadn't broken under Riko and Tetsuji's hand.

Kevin took a few deep breaths and looked into Neil's eyes before nodding.

“He's going to fucking kill us.” The lack of faith made him snort, it was kind of funny but not more than it was sad. "After the feast, will you let me know what's going on? And talk about how does he know that?” Neil blinked, thinking Kevin was talking about Riko, but then he saw the recognition on his friend's face looking between him and Andrew. Neil pursed his lips, that wasn't relevant to Kevin and the less people knew, the better. He opened his mouth to say this to the other, but was interrupted by Andrew, who squeezed the back of his neck a little more.

“We have to go.”

His tone left no room for argument and Kevin seemed to sense it too, as the knowing glint in his eyes turned to sour, slightly annoyed acceptance. Neil sighed and leaned back against his partner's chest.

"Thank you"

"It's none of his business"

Neil knew that, knew that Andrew really thought that, but the whole thing left a sour taste on his tongue.

"I'm not trying to hide you. It's not that I don't want to tell him"

Andrew blinked at him slowly, as if he were a cat looking at a particularly dumb human.

"You're so stupid I sometimes wonder you've been alive this long, rabbit"

Neil bowed, a laugh taking him by surprise as he rested his forehead on Andrew's shoulder and laughed.

He heard a satisfied, amused snort as Andrew's fingers crept up the back of his neck and into his hair, scratching his scalp and sending shivers down his spine.

Neil sighed, leaving his full weight for his soul mate to hold.

"I just want you safe"

Andrew wrapped an arm around Neil's waist.

"I know, Neil. I know"

— 

The reception when everyone got to the bus wasn't exactly the warmest, mainly because Coach was already waiting for them in front of the university and apparently everyone was ready except Neil, Andrew and Kevin.

The foxes were bored and tense from the trip and curious as to why he'd chosen the new look, Coach angry that they were late and Abby…seeming just resigned that this was her life.

It was a good thing the university chosen to host the fall banquet was only four hours away from Palmetto, honestly Neil wasn't sure he could take any more time from Coach telling them all the ways everything could go wrong and how he would put each one of the foxes on a hellish marathon if they got into trouble. That last part was said by looking very blankly between Andrew and Neil.

It didn't matter, Neil had things to do, people to protect, information to gather, and a Riko to distract.

Andrew seemed to know about that last part too, as he could feel him tense beside him — all of his attention focused solely on Neil, rather than divided among his group.

"You look very vigilant" Andrew just grunted. "Hey, I can take care of myself. You should be watching your other misfits"

"Aren't they the ones playing with danger today"

Neil's lips curled up as he bit back a smile.

"Well—"

"No"

Neil snorted but didn't complain about Andrew's gaze again. He would probably do the same if the situations were reversed.

They didn't say much during the travel time and when they arrived, they went straight to the locker room.

Neil tensed when he walked in and saw that there were no partitions, but he relaxed when Andrew showed him a small room where he could dress more privately.

His suit was nothing like what Neil thought he would wear. He thought about getting himself a cheap, gray suit that he could discard for the foreseeable future—Andrew had other ideas for that and made his opinion of Neil's not dressing properly clear when he called Stuart, who immediately sent a suit over from the family tailor shop for Neil to wear.

He kind of missed when Stuart claimed to hate Andrew.

Neil looked at his reflection in the mirror, the graphite linen suit fit him perfectly and he knew it was Andrew's fault, the soft white shirt he wore wasn't hot and didn't irritate his scars, the pants were just the right size, no limiting his movements like the ones Nicky insisted on making him use, but also not wide like all the others he had.

He still refused to wear a tie, however.

Neil looked… good. He looked handsome.

It was strange to see himself in the mirror like this, Neil almost couldn't recognize the image.

He looked good, the clothes matched his hair, even if he didn't know how to control that mess of curls stuck in a not-so-pretty bun.

But even though his hair was a mess, Neil looked beautiful, he felt good and above all was the fact that—

…he didn't look like his father.

Nathan never had his hair that long, never had his curls, never had his freckles. They shared the same skin tone, but Neil was never tall and burly like his father. He had his mother's lean muscles, as well as his short stature.

But the face Neil saw whenever he looked in a mirror wasn't his own, the eyes weren't his, his hair wasn't his.

But this time there was no one else.

Neil Josten was just himself. There was no larger shadow looming, no cruel smile threatening.

Neil was just… Neil.

He heard the knock on the door and composed himself, feeling a little stupid for having been…emotional? Sentimental?

No, fragile. Neil felt fragile and it wasn't something he was familiar enough with to be comfortable with.

"It’s me"

And just like that, he let himself go back to that weird feeling, feeling good about himself, feeling beautiful, feeling like for once Neil didn't have his dad whispering over his shoulder.

When Neil opened the door, he practically drank Andrew's image.

He had recently cut his hair, so the back of his neck and part of the sides were still shaved in a way that Neil could almost see his scalp, but the type was long enough that the blond strands fell into his eyes.

Andrew had a small lock of hair on the right side pinned up with a silver clip, which made his eyebrow piercing stand out.

His clothes were… like Neil's. The same dark, metallic graphite shade, it also seemed to tighten in all the right places—especially on Andrew's biceps, where the fabric seemed to cling to the muscle.

But where Neil wore a soft white shirt, Andrew wore one of satin black fabric that had a very subtle sheen. He looked pliable and cool and was a little too tight on his soulmate's torso.

Neil gasped as he looked down at the way Andrew's pants were tight and hugged his thighs, the way the fabric was practically a second skin and—

“It's interesting not being able to read your thoughts and still know what you're thinking.” Andrew said, amusement seeping through the usual monotony. "Glad to know I look good."

He stifled a shiver that threatened to creep up his back and shrugged, forcing his face to look nonchalant just so he wouldn't give Andrew the taste of confirming that yes, Neil was watching and yes , he was good.

In fact, good sounded like an understatement.

Neil was good, Andrew was fucking fantastic.

“You're an asshole.” he muttered, injecting fake temper into his voice. He saw out of the corner of his eye the way Andrew returned his shrug and resolved to focus on the mirror in front of him.

Neil wrinkled his nose at the sight, he looked handsome, but his hair just... wasn't cooperating. He snorted and yanked the elastic band that held his hair back, letting the mess fall over his shoulders before trying again to secure it in a semi-decent fashion.

Which didn't work, as he'd guessed.

It was kind of frustrating, but any thought about it left him as he felt Andrew's fingers take the place of his.

“Let me help.” Andrew said without looking at Neil, his eyes only on the thick curls he'd fixed earlier.

Neil didn't protest, he just pulled up a small wooden bench where his other clothes were and sat down not caring if it was comfortable or not. He half wanted to close his eyes at the feel of his hair being brushed by Andrew's fingers, the thickest and most voluminous of the curls being separated into a few slightly smaller strands, Andrew parting his hair into two halves and tying the top of his hair in a small ponytail and leaving the bottom half loose.

When he was done fixing his hairstyle, he used his fingers to scrunch the loose part of his hair, making the curls more defined.

Neil had to resist the urge to close his eyes and melt under his soulmate's touch every second of the process—it was times like this one when the promise he made to Andrew became difficult, heavy and painful.

His urge to say those three words grew when he saw the kind way Andrew treated him, grew when he saw his partner's eyes twinkling, grew when he made a mean joke, grew when Andrew interacted with Aaron and showed how much good he was like a brother.

His desire grew and grew and grew.

The only thing that gave him comfort was the knowledge that Andrew knew, even if Neil could never tell him, Andrew knew.

That Neil loved him, that he had always been his choice, that nothing in the world could be more adored by Neil than Andrew.

“Stop this.” Said his partner, narrowing his eyes and pinching his nose. “You're doing it again.”

“I said nothing.” Neil smiled, they had had this dialogue so many times it was hard to miss their lines. Andrew snorted, but the scowl of concentration on his face faded into something softer.

“You think high, Neil. Very high.”

He shrugged and stood up, glancing one last time at his reflection before extending his hand.

“Let's go?”

Andrew stared between himself and the hand before rolling his eyes and lacing Neil's fingers with his own.

They stayed hand in hand until they saw Wymack and Kevin, then they let go, but not before they both saw the way Andrew held his hand a little longer before actually letting go. Wymack raised an eyebrow as Kevin rolled his eyes.

"Should I ask?" Coach said.

"Above your payment." Andrew replied without missing a beat and without waiting for Neil as he left the locker room.

They all gathered quickly and looked pretty, he thought. It wasn't like he was really paying attention to anyone but Andrew—maybe just Allison, but she was a little hard to miss in the glittering gold dress with a slit that showed all of her leg.

There were a few compliments exchanged, a joke from Nicky which Andrew silenced with a look and then that was it; the foxes were ready to face that shitty party that would be the feast.

When they arrived at the designated spot for the foxes, they soon saw their seating arrangement marked by little paper flags covered in colors with school colors and mascots — which wasn't surprising and not at all, no, the big surprise came with what was in front of his desk.

"Looks like we won't have to worry about finding Jean, huh" Neil said to Andrew through the bond, his body suddenly tense with the little twinge between his eyebrows that indicated a headache—probably coming from Andrew. “Hey, it’s going to be okay”

“Are you going to try to make contact today?” Neil nodded.

"The sooner the better"

Andrew pursed his lips, his brow creased in an almost imperceptible way, but he returned Neil's nod.

He didn't like it, Andrew didn't like it. Neil knew that, he had the knowledge of what was going on in his soulmate's mind and heart, and he would like to comfort him, to say that he would stay out of trouble and not get hurt, but…

…it was a lie.

Neil was purposefully digging himself a hole of pain, he knew what he was doing, he was teasing Riko, making him angrier, almost making him drool for the right to hurt him.

And he was good at that, at hurting. If what Ichirou said about Jean's situation was anything to go by, Riko had no qualms about causing pain.

And Andrew had to deal with Neil practically making himself the guest of honor in the little torture dungeon that was the nest.

On the bright side, the way Riko looked at him, Neil wouldn't even have to bother trying any effort.

He didn't say anything when he heard Dan curse, saw Kevin pale and the foxes stiffen and start walking.

The Ravens were as usual, stupid and extremely dramatic. All dressed entirely in black from head to toe, just like last year if what Andrew told him earlier was any good.

By Neil's reckoning, there were no chaperones either, just Ravens doing what they know best—intimidating to make them look big and bad.

Neil watched the exchange of aggressive greetings between Riko and Dan—half keeping his eyes on Allison who seemed a second away from flying into the son of a bitch's throat, half trying to locate Jean.

However, it wasn't until the foxes organized and sat down that the line of Ravens moved to rearrange the seating positions in a very specific way.

He felt Andrew tense beside him at the same moment he saw Kevin flinch—which was basically when the tall figure of Jean Moreau sat down right in front of Neil.

The gray eyes were different from the ones in the pictures Ichirou had shown him, they were more misty, darker, as if any spark had long since burned out. It made sense, considering that Jean had been living in the nest for almost as long as Neil had been on the run.

The figure stared at him, studying him with a stoic facade almost too transparent to have any real effect—boredom and indifference were hard to fake when the fear it was such a strong emotion.

And that's pretty much what Neil saw in Jean's eyes; fear.

Uh, looks like Riko warned him.

Good. It made things easier.

The one-three tattoo moved a little as he spoke:

“You look familiar.” He said in a strong accent.

Neil wondered if he should start with the intimidation, but decided to see where things went first.

Also, Andrew looked like he was starting to get nervous.

“If you've watched the Kathy Ferdinand show recently, it's probably been there.”

“Oh, you're right. Should be it. What's your real name? Alex? Stefan? Chris?”

Neil blinked, red and bloody images flashing through his memory.

He was twelve and had to learn to deal with hypothermia during a harsh winter where he was Chris for two weeks before men broke into the shelter where he and his mother were hiding and he was forced to kill them.

He was fourteen when he went into hiding and had to listen to a woman whose only sin was being kind , to be killed slowly so that he could safely abandon Stefan.

He was fifteen and lying in an alley, listening to Andrew's voice like there was cotton in his ears as he tried to bear the feeling of his mother's fingers digging a hole in his shoulder without screaming. At the time Mary's fingernails were longer than usual because of her disguise, Neil could still feel them scraping his flesh like Alex he did.

He smiled. Not the grotesque thing that came from his father, no, a small, sneering little thing that only Andrew would know what it meant.

Anger . 

“It's Neil, actually.” He picked up the glass of water in front of him and took a long drink before glancing at Riko almost imperceptibly and then turning his attention back to Jean again. “You're going to have to do better than that.”

It wasn't something that was easily missed, the way Jean swallowed hard, glanced quickly at Riko—who wore an annoyed expression, as if it bothered him that Neil wasn't shaking with fear. Probably did. He frowned and nodded stiffly, giving an order.

“Hmm?” Jean tilted his head to one side, as if that would help him see Neil better, but there was still that tension in his jaw that indicated he was upset doing this, angry or afraid. Probably the second option if the previous look was any indication. “You don’t lool much like a Neil.”

 "Blame my mother," Neil replied, ignoring the ‘no’ grumpy Andrew said in his head. "She gave me that name."

"Yeah, give that bitch all the credit for my hard work"

Neil suppressed the urge to smile, this wasn't the time.

"By the way," Riko interrupted Neil's thoughts, his face contorted in what was supposed to be a smile but was nothing more than bared teeth and a promise of cruelty. “how is she?”

Neil glared at him, his eyes narrowing and his jaw tightening.

"Don't fall in his games" With some difficulty, Neil shifted his gaze to Andrew.

“He makes it really easy”

“Neil” Andrew's eyes narrowed. "Not now. The team"

It was enough for him to force himself to calm down, because he knew his behavior wasn't just going to come back on himself. Andrew, Aaron and all the other foxes would be dragged along with him, as would Seth.

Enough of the side effects, one was enough.

One was too much . 

So Neil sat there while Dan, Matt, and—not surprisingly—Allison came to his defense.

Neil really, really tried.

He kept quiet even when Jean interacted with Kevin and Andrew intervened, even when the Ravens picked fights with every fox, harassing and belittling his every conquest and deed.

Neil even went quiet when Jean spat the name Doe as if it were some offense, as if it were something dirty.

As if Andrew hadn't lived sixteen years of his life as a Doe.

Maybe that's where things started to go wrong, Neil couldn't no react to that, at least not before Andrew fixed him with a steady gaze—but apparently the way he gripped the edge of the table tightly and gritted his teeth was enough for Riko to realize something.

Andrew noticed.

Fuck

“Despair looks good on you, Riko. You get one point for the attempt, but save your breath. Here's a tip for you, okay? You cannot reduce someone who is already in the gutter. You end up wasting your time and mine.” Andrew said, letting a bit of mock amusement seep through his bored facade. Neil felt even more uncomfortable.

It was stupid, Andrew knew how to defend himself, Neil knew Andrew knew.

They had trained, Andrew had trained. They'd been into it since they were kids and Neil didn't even know that there was no shame in Andrew, there was no regret, there was no anything from that.

But he still wanted to jump down Riko's throat with one of the knives that was on the table and cut the damn thing until the black of his suit was gone red . 

"Neil" 

He took a deep breath, counting from zero to ten in each of the languages he knew, and then again and again until the elusive sense of serenity settled over him.

It wasn't working.

"I know"

“Enough.” Dan snapped his fingers at them, intervening before Neil could actually calm down. “This is a district event and we have twenty officials here. We are here to get to know each other, not to start fights. If you don't have something nice to say, then don't say anything. That goes for both teams.”

Riko smiled.

"Is that why your new baby fox is so quiet?" Riko gestured to Neil. "He doesn't have anything 'nice' to say?"

“Leave him alone.” Matt said in a warning tone as Allison narrowed her eyes at him, her long, sharp fingernails scraping the fabric of the table.

She looked like she wanted to say something, but just like Andrew, Renee was also trying to keep Allison in line.

“He was so excited the last time we met.” Riko continued. "Maybe this was just a little show for the audience? Hello,” He snapped his fingers, like he was trying to get a dog's attention. “I'm talking with you. Are you really going to ignore me?”

Yes, Neil would.

He was good at that, taking the annoying sound of people's voices and turning them down to noise.

It also helped that Nicky had pinched him under the table, as if to remind him to be quiet.

Not that Neil needed a reminder, he was well aware that his actions there would have a direct reflection on each of his teammates as well as their loved ones.

He counted from zero to ten and then from ten to zero.

Was not working

Was not working

Was not-

"What a coward," Riko said. Fake disappointment bathed his tone. “just like his mother.”

Neil stopped counting.

“You know, I get it,” Neil said. “Being raised as a superstar must have been really, really difficult for you. Always a commodity, never a human being, not a single person in your family thinks you're worth shit off the court... Yeah, that sounds tough. Kevin and I talk about your intricate daddy issues all the time.”

“ Neil.” Kevin called, low and frantic. Neil ignored him, just glancing sideways at Andrew, who remained perfectly still and still.

“I know it's not entirely your fault that you're mentally unhinged and infected with these delusions of grandeur and I know that you're physically incapable of holding a decent conversation with someone like every other normal fucking human being can, but I don't think any of us have to put up with this much of your bullshit. And let's not even start talking about cowardice , because you would know a lot about it, huh? Involving others because you can't lick your own wounds with that inferiority complex you've been shoving up your ass. Pity only gives you a few perks, and you've used all of yours like about six insults. So please, please, shut the fuck up and leave us alone.

Everyone's jaws dropped; The Ravens' symmetry broke as they looked at Neil in disbelief. Riko's expression could have frozen hell, dark eyes staring back at him with a gleam that meant he'd done his job and invited himself in for a good deal of suffering at the other man's hands, but Neil was too pissed off to be afraid. Neil leaned forward and looked at Dan, who was sitting with her face buried in her hands.

“Dan, I said please. I tried to be nice.”

"Matt," Dan said, nearly choking out his name. “Matt, coach. Find the coach. Fuck, Neil, for the love of God .” 

He shrugged, not really too concerned about Dan's frustration. He was far more concerned about the odd expression on Andrew's face—Neil was well versed in his boyfriend's expressions, but sometimes some still caught him off guard.

"Sorry about that" Andrew didn't look angry, but Neil had done something he didn't like.

Her soulmate raised an eyebrow, but soon schooled her face to neutrality again.

"For being potentially suicidal?"

“By saying that word, I know you don't like it. Sorry" His attention had to be divided when Jean caught his eye.

He looked even paler than Kevin did at that moment, his eyes wide and horrified.

Uh, Neil thought. Ops.

“You can't say things like that.” His tone betrayed exactly how scared he was.

Neil fingered a pantry.

“I just did.” He shrugged. “And if he didn't want some of my attitude he shouldn't have asked me for it. I was happy sitting here,” He looked at Riko. “in silence.”

Jean turned to Kevin, looking frantic and spoke in fast and furious French. Neil tried to translate each word for Andrew.

“What hell was that?”

"His antagonism is a personality flaw we're learning to deal with" Kevin said, after a quick glance at Neil.

“Deal?” Jean echoed, sounding offended. “No! You should have dealt with him when he first got out of line. We trust you to discipline him. Why hasn't he put himself in his place yet?”

"Neil has no place in Riko's games" Kevin said, even though he now knew it was a lie. “He's a Fox.”

"He's not a Fox! Look for him, Kevin. You know who he is!”

By the way Kevin turned white as paper, Neil decided it was time to step in.

 “That's funny” Neil said in French. Jean apparently didn't expect him to understand, because she shot Neil a startled look. “I'm pretty sure the contract I signed said Palmetto State University.”

"A contract doesn't change the facts" Jean said. "Have you forgotten who you belong to? Who bought you?”

And oh, that was almost fun.

And it was really funny — because if it had been in literally any other circumstance, if Neil hadn't been who he was, if he hadn't known what he knew, if he hadn't had what he had… he would have been confused, terrified maybe.

It was not the case.

Neil grew up with a knife in his hand, a mark on his chest and a name on his heart.

If he had an owner, there was only one person to whom it would belong.

"Do you really think someone owns me?" A smile broke across his face, wide, ugly, hateful. “Poor you, Jean. As stupid as it is hopeless.”

Neil watched the way Jean swallowed hard, the way the sweat formed on the back of his neck seeped into his dark jacket, the way his eyes widened the tiniest bit.

“No matter who you are, you cannot deny who you belong to.”

“If you're going to accept being treated like a possession, it's not my fucking problem.” Neil looked at Andrew, who nodded. "Contact me, I can get you out of there. Not today,” he added quickly. “but soon. You are as much property as I am.”

Jean narrowed his eyes, his lower lip trembling a little.

“You are crazy and it’s going kill the—”

Neil knew what fear was.

He had lived with the fear of this before he was four years old, since before he understood what fear meant. So he knew all the venom in Jean's tone was just that—fear.

“Fleur misses her brother.” Jean's jaw snapped shut, his already sickly pale skin turning almost milky. "And I have orders to settle this."

Neil wasn't stupid enough not to know that Riko certainly had caught Fleur's name in conversation, but he also knew that Fleur was a common enough name to mention in conversation. There was no reason for Riko to think that, after eight years on the run, Neil had run straight into Ichirou.

So Neil promptly ignored any reaction from Riko, knowing that if there was anything relevant in the man's expression, Andrew would let him know right away.

Jean opened his mouth to answer something, but Coach beat him to it by getting angry and saying:

“What the hell is going on here?”

Oh right. Matt had gone out to get him.

“Just a few disagreements, Coach. Riko asked me to speak and so I did." He said with a shrug.

Coach looked him up and down, then sighed and rubbed his eyes.

“I knew you'd be trouble.” Murmured. “On your feet. Abby is working with the event coordinators to get us a new table.”

Neil doesn't need to be told twice, but he didn't get very far. Jean turned to him before Neil had finished pushing the chair and nodded for him to listen. Her French was fast and loaded with a Marseille accent that was almost too strong for him to understand.

“Riko will have a few minutes of your time later.” Jean said, but it didn't sound like it used to. He still looked scared, but less suspicious. “I suggest you talk to him if you don't want everyone to know you're the butcher's son.”

Neil raised an eyebrow.

"Do I seem to mind if anyone knows?"

Jean pressed his lips together.

“I just relay messages.”

"Well, tell Riko that if he wants to find me, that's fine. But I'm still not afraid of a tantrum child.”

Jean's eyes widened so much Neil thought they were going to fall out of his head.

“You're going to kill us all.”

He would respond, but Wymack finally seemed tired of being left out of the conversation.

“Ok, that’s enough. Let's go to our table, Josten.”

Neil just nodded, starting to walk away while Wymack stayed behind and dealt with whatever the aftereffects of the shitty show ended.

Kevin looked apprehensive, but Neil muttered a ‘I'll explain later’ which seemed to be enough to return the man to his natural state of despair.

“I need a drink.” Kevin said, because apparently his natural state of despair was still too high for him to handle sober.

Unfortunately for Kevin, Neil kind of liked the jerk.

“Yes, because treating your future dead liver is a lot easier than treating your fucking anxiety. Don't drink, Kevin. I won't let him hurt you.”

Kevin looked at him for a second, before nodding and joining Abby, who grudgingly offered him a bottle, which Kevin declined.

At least the woman looked relieved, if just as shocked.

Neil sat down next to Andrew, ignoring the questioning looks Aaron was sending him—he was probably curious at the very least. Considering how well he was aware, it made sense.

Neil still didn't feel like talking, though.

Dan apparently didn't realize this.

“Are you ok?” Asked, sitting in the place where Kevin was.

Andrew raised an eyebrow.

"Does he look ok?" Dan frowned with honestly annoying anger. Andrew had just pointed out the obvious.

“I’m fine.” He replied, not wanting to go into detail about what happened. The woman didn't seem to believe it, and she was right, so he didn't blame her.

“You can talk to me, Neil.” She said, but he didn't answer. He just stared at her for a moment and then looked away.

There was nothing to talk about, really. It was just…

Tiredness.

Neil didn't like that part of him, that cruel part that smirked and promised blood. As much as it was needed, as much as it was he, Neil still didn't like it.

He wished he were alone with Andrew now, so he could bury his face in the crook of his soulmate's neck, so he could feel Andrew's hands slip under his shirt and make circles on his skin.

At the very least, he wished Andrew wasn't so quiet.

"You haven't said anything yet"

"About what?" Andrew didn't show any reaction, not even an arch of an eyebrow as Neil moved a little closer.

"The word I used"

"You're stupider than I thought if you think that's what I'm worried about" Neil pursed his lips.

"You did know I was going to do something like that" These. "I came to antagonize Riko, Andrew"

"I know, it's just" Andrew sighed, turning his gaze to him. His eyes were a little lighter than usual, the green streaks standing out in what little space they had left with Andrew's pupil so dilated. "He won't leave you alone now. You're going to get hurt" Andrew's fingers snapped as if he wanted to reach for Neil.

And oh, he did understand now.

Andrew was upset because he still believed that it wouldn't be necessary for Neil to get hurt, for Neil to actively put an even bigger target on his back for them to be able to complete that stupid plan, which unfortunately, was their only chance at that point.

“Andrew…”

"I know. It's bullshit, but I can't help to have hope when it comes to you" Andrew said, tensing his jaw muscles into a firm bite. If he concentrated, Neil was sure he could hear his teeth grinding together.

Andrew was like that, always had been in fact.

He didn't care for himself on a worrying level, never tried to have faith in anything related to his own life—except when it came to Neil.

When it was about him, about them , Andrew was hopeful, he would get down on his knees and plead with God if necessary, even if he was an atheist.

It was the way Neil was important to him, the way Andrew was willing to do anything for Neil, but that he just…hoped, that Neil didn't have to be willing to do anything for him—for them.

"It's not bullshit" He said it softly, because every part that the pain of years and years had hardened in Neil just melted away the instant Andrew's name was mentioned. "It’s you" And he hid his hand under the table, hoping his soulmate would get the message.

Andrew snorted, but slipped his hand down and laced his fingers with Neil's.

"And it’s you"

Neil kind of tuned out from the rest of the foxes, even when Wymack came up and demanded to know what happened or when the others tried to talk to him.

In reality, Neil was only vaguely aware that when the Ravens approached and got into an argument, he knew they were offending Dan and the others, but he also knew that they were good at defending themselves.

Neil only came into focus again when a deep, gravelly voice rang out, instantly tensing Andrew and bringing back not-so-pleasant memories of his childhood for himself.

“Kevin Day.” Said the man. Like everyone else, Neil turned his head to look.

Tetsuji Moriyama was arguably the most powerful man in Exy — which made sense, considering he and Kevin's mother were the two who invented the sport thirty years ago and that it was largely because of him that the Ravens were considered the best College League Exy team. It was also Tetsuji who founded the Exy Rules and Regulations Committee — on top of all that, the man was still a consultant to the international committee and owner of two professional teams. He was a legend. He was also a demon: Riko's abusive uncle and Kengo's younger brother.

Tetsuji was a disgusting man, with such a lust for power that it was disconcerting—another on Neil's growing list of people who wanted to hurt him.

Because Tetsuji looked at Neil a lot like Riko did; with envy, with greed.

Like a prize to covet and steal.

And also looked at him like Kengo did.

With a sickening interest and something too close to lust for him to feel comfortable in his own skin next to the man.

My brother's toy , once Tetsuji called him. And Neil knew what those people did with their toys.

They broke them.

“Master.” Kevin said, his voice strangled, as if he couldn't force the air out of his lungs.

Tetsuji ran his eyes slowly over Kevin before turning to Neil and staring at him blankly for a second. He lifted his chin, Neil never bowed his head to Tetsuji even when he was still the much-loved successor to the butcher, Kengo's favorite child — even more than Ichirou. Neil could see it in Tetsuji's face the moment the rage hit him, could see the wrinkle appearing on his forehead and his eyes narrowing, but he didn't say a word. He just made a hand gesture that caused the entire Ravens formation to fall apart.

He calmly walked over to Kevin and held out his hand, looking at the other expectantly.

Kevin seemed to understand and, even as pale as paper, handed Tetsuji his left hand for the man to assess.

Neil decided to intervene, but just as he was about to start moving, a voice with a very familiar name caught his attention:

“Butcher.” he said in smooth French.

Neil looked over his shoulder. Jean had come around the circle and was a short distance away. He inclined his head in a silent order and Neil followed his gaze to see Riko step off the court. Sighing, Neil clenched his jaw, anger gripping him for a second before he decided to keep that emotion low and dormant in his stomach.

He would have time for anger later.

"Riko is calling. You keep an eye on Kevin" Andrew's eyes immediately followed him, his body instinctively leaning towards Neil. "Andrew, Kevin"

"Fuck you, I won't leave you alone"

"He can't do anything with me here" Said, and then, because Andrew deserved the truth: "If he hasn't talked about you yet, it's because he doesn't know we're soulmates. Riko wouldn't waste his time with silly threats and intimidation when he can go on to the only thing that would bring me to my knees."

He wasn't blind, Neil saw the way Andrew was all tense, fear and anger gleaming in his hazel eyes—but neither was he blind to his partner's intelligence or the trust that existed between them.

Andrew sighed, taking a step towards Kevin as Neil took a step back to get out of sight.

“Do not kneel for anyone”

Neil didn't look back, he didn't need to see Andrew's expression—he didn't bother to see if any of his teammates noticed his departure either, he just kept a casual pace toward the door and entered the inner courtyard in time to see Riko disappearing into the house's changing room.

Riko was checking the locker room for intruders when he walked in and Neil decided to wait against the door, arms crossed over his chest, for Riko to finish whatever the hell she was doing.

It wasn't long before the other man looked satisfied and imperiously waved Neil to join him in the front room. The place was almost big enough to fit the foxes' entire locker room and was filled with couches. Rugs featuring Blackwell's Jack the Rabbit mascot covered the empty spaces on the floor, while pictures covered the walls. Riko considered a few pictures before letting out a wry laugh, which sounded a lot like the sound of glass being ground. He turned to face Neil and they looked at each other across the room. Finally, Riko smiled. It was a horrible expression, but Neil really was used to worse.

“Nathaniel, how long.”

Well, at least he wouldn't try to play games.

“It's Neil now.” Riko's smile didn't fade, but it was a little obvious that that wasn't the reaction he wanted to get.

“Don't lie to me, you won't like the consequences.” Neil wished he could roll his eyes at the clichéd superhero movie villain speech, but he knew how to control himself when necessary. Well, almost always. "I see you've changed your look. Opting for something more natural? It'll save me a lot of trouble when I have you crawling back to the nest you were never supposed to leave.”

“Your ability to create delusions of grandeur is as good as it was when we were kids, Riko. Congratulations.” Finally, the smile fell. "Do you think I was made for your pathetic excuse for a cult? Kengo,” Neil avoided the satisfaction of taking over his expression when he saw Riko flinch a little at the mention of his father. It was something else he had never been allowed to say the leader Moriyama's name, while Neil was requested to refer thus to the great lord. “just wanted to give you a good example of what someone useful to him was.”

“I would be more careful talking to me if I were you, Nathaniel.” Riko’s eyes narrow. “You must be more gentle with your owners.”

Neil raised an eyebrow.

“I think you're having the wrong idea of what's going on here, Riko.” Neil felt his hands tingling. It was a bluff, one entirely backed up by what Andrew had said about Riko being afraid of him. “I didn't come here for you to intimidate me, I came to warn you.”

He let the ugly thing he kept tucked away in his chest grow, that slimy rage that made his mother stare at him in fear, that made him laugh hysterically, that made him feel good when unloading a full gun on the head of some idiot who injured him while fleeing.

He let it grow and brought it to the surface.

“What?” Riko asked. He looked stupid and confused. Neil hated him.

The rage built until it stopped at the same point where it exploded the night Seth was killed.

“I'll kill you." he said simply, uncrossing his arms and shoving his hands into his pants pockets. "It might not be now, it might take years, it might even be that you manage to hurt me in the process, but Riko? I'll kill you.” Neil finally left the doorway and moved closer, but not close enough to be within reach of Riko's dirty little hands. “You put my people in the middle of this ridiculous feud, you hurt them, you killed one of them and I 'll kill you for it.”

And then, without waiting for an answer, Neil turned and started to walk away.

“Where do you think you're going? I didn't say you can leave, Nathaniel.”

“That's it, Riko. You cannot make me obey.” He turned his head to look over his shoulder and saw the man's angry expression. “If I'm here long enough, I'm likely to end up staining the carpet red and you're not worth the trouble I'd have to clean up.”

The way Riko gritted his teeth as he took a step back was enough for Neil to know he'd won.

…per hour.

“You're going to regret this. You will come crawling to beg forgiveness, Nathaniel. And I can't wait to say no.”

Neil didn't smile and didn't take the threat lightly.

It wasn't just words, it was a promise—one he knew Riko would keep.

Well, anyway, everything was according to plan.

When Neil finally made it back to where the foxes were, he exchanged just one long look with Jean before he cocked his head and then turned his attention to Andrew.

Staying away from his soulmate was almost impossible, Andrew felt like a magnetic field pulling Neil into his orbit, but at that moment he decided to stand firm with his feet on the ground — Neil had just put a target on the back of each of the foxes for his attitude and he knew that Andrew, after himself, was the one Riko despised and feared the most. Riko had already placed the threat of Drake hanging around, he wasn't going to give the fucker one more reason to go after Andrew.

"Aren't you going to come here?"

"If I approach you and he notices any signs of affection, you'll become an even bigger target."

"I'm already a target"

"Exactly"

He sat down in one of the vacant chairs at the table and closed his eyes, taking in the sound of voices talking, footsteps, and the scuffling of tables and chairs.

Exhaustion hit him full on as he realized how things had unfolded—it was all so much more intense and more dangerous than he'd ever imagined it would be.

Neil would have to talk to Stuart to get more people into fox security, he would have to talk to Ichirou to keep an eye on Riko, and he would definitely have to talk to him to send someone undercover to minimize the damage Jean would suffer in retaliation for Neil's behavior. 

He hated that his actions had to result in danger to people who shouldn't even have to be involved, but that wasn't about Neil . It was Riko who was a spoiled boy, who didn't know how to compartmentalize his emotions and distributed his fury as if it were a gift to be given and not a burden he should keep to himself.

What consoled him was that even though Neil knew Riko wasn't kidding with his threats, Neil wasn't either.

He would kill him.

Neil blinked in surprise as a chair lurched to his side, his heart racing when he saw Andrew staring at him.

"Andrew—"

"I won't let you push me away, Neil"

He lowered his face and rested his forehead on the table, his hand dropping to his lap in the hope that Andrew would grab it.

"I'm scared of what might happen to you"

"I won't leave you alone. I know you weren't just talking about today's feast" Neil closed his eyes and took a deep breath when he felt Andrew's fingers slip between his. Just that little touch and Neil felt better. "Don't leave me behind, Neil"

Swallowing hard, he squeezed Andrew's hand and nodded.

"I won't. Sorry, sorry"

Andrew returned the wave and gripped his hand as tightly as Neil.

They stayed like that, in that slightly awkward, slightly uncomfortable position, for the rest of the feast.

— 

Neil stopped counting the days he was with Andrew.

In reality, he didn't even notice that the days were really passing by, that was something he noticed over time. When he was with Andrew or even one of the other foxes, the pre-programmed one-year countdown clock would stop running, just pause, and then, when Neil was away, he would run again at full power.

Perhaps that was why he had decided to spend so much time with his teammates since the banquet.

Things had happened since his encounter with Riko, some were his fault, some just consequences of the other man's childish temper.

Stuart had to stop at least three attacks on the foxes, some men whose names they would never know were killed in order to hurt Neil's team and the threat of Drake still loomed - the man still remained free, not even his uncle's team managed to locate his whereabouts.

There were good things too, Neil and Allison grew closer, forming an incredibly strange friendship that seemed to confuse the rest of the foxes — except for Aaron, Andrew and Renee — enough that they started betting that they were having an affair. Allison was very amused, Aaron wrinkled his nose, Renee and Andrew didn't mind, which Neil ignored for the sake of his friend's amusement.

He also met Katelyn, Andrew's brother's soulmate—an energetic, kind, and bubbly girl who managed to be almost as good as Renee. The woman was still surprisingly caustic and sarcastic when she wanted to be, and to be honest, that was Neil's favorite part of her.

But one bad thing about failing to count the days was that, when he least expected it, October had arrived and with October came the inevitable Ravens vs Foxes.

Neil was nervous, he would be stupid not to be. The whole team was restless, Andrew's group and the upperclassmen clashing more and more and for more and more idiotic reasons, Kevin was also being a damn son of a bitch, with his boorish behavior, acid words and sticking his unreachable expectations in everyone who stepped onto the court.

Each was stressed and angry in their own way, frustrated and taking their anger out on each other—which was perhaps why Neil felt like he'd been caught in the eye of the hurricane. Because on each of those days that he forgot to count, he was held, he was hugged, he was kissed.

Andrew turned some of those days into spaced-out white blurs where all Neil could remember was his soulmate's face, the texture of his skin, and the warmth of his tongue. Others were passed in calm ways, where the feeling of belonging to Andrew was so strong that Neil felt heavy and warm.

Because even though October had arrived and with it Riko and Jean and everything cruel about Edgar Allan, Neil still managed to feel at peace.

Maybe it was the calm before the storm, the receding sea before a big wave, or even the dangerous silence in a forest before a predator bared its teeth—maybe is a sign that danger was coming and that Neil should take advantage of what little stillness he could before he was caught in the hurricane that had started the day Neil had looked at Riko and challenged him, telling him he had no owner.

Whatever it was, it was good and in that moment seemed endless.

He sighed contentedly as he turned over in bed as he buried his face in the pillow.

Andrew's skin still looked like it was glowing in the dim light of their bedroom lamp from the sweat, and his hair was a very dandelion mess. His eyes were closed, which was a shame. Neil loved Andrew's eyes, there was nothing prettier in the world.

"I can feel you staring." Neil smiled. A warm, lazy feeling rising in his chest. Weird, weird. The world probably felt like it was about to end, but everything just felt right when he saw Andrew.

“Without even looking, wow.”

“We'll stop having sex if you're really going to get so stupid every time I do anything but shove my hands down your pants.” Andrew's eyes widened. Oh, hello, there you are, I missed you. “What are you thinking?”

Neil could tell he was now thinking about how Andrew's hair looked almost white in the low light and how beautiful his eyes were, how warm and warm they looked no matter how bored his partner looked all the time. About how unearthly he looked in the dim light and how Neil loved the way the mark on Andrew's wrist gave off a soft glow.

Neil could tell he was thinking about Andrew and only Andrew, because everything else seemed less flashy and less brilliant than him.

However, that answer would make him angrier than anything and then his apparent good mood would go away — so Neil told him the second most recurring thing on his mind:

“That I should be scared, but I'm not.”  He said. “That next week we'll have problems, but I can't feel concerned.”

Andrew studied his face, seeing something Neil would surely have missed in the night's gloom and his blurred features, and then he nodded.

“Everything is fine.”

“I should be freaking out like everyone else.”

“Why?” he asked, one eyebrow arched.

And yes, why?

Neil stared at Andrew's features. The square jaw looked as if it had been carved from alabaster—it was beautiful, firm, and completely free of any tension. Andrew wasn't freaking out either, he'd remained perfectly calm over the last few days and acted as if nothing was going to go wrong.

“I don't want to miss this. If I'm not afraid I get sloppy, if I get sloppy you can get hurt.”

"And you think being paranoid will help you predict what's going to happen?"

“It worked before.” he said, not feeling the slightest bit of force in what he was saying. “I should be scared, I should be paranoid, right now the least acceptable would be that I'm a nervous wreck and the problem is that no matter how hard I try, I can't .”

Andrew's mind has always been a curious place for Neil, no matter how long they've known each other.

Even if Neil could read most of Andrew's mannerisms, most of the creases and wrinkles in Andrew's expressions, most of Andrew's cryptic words—he could never fully understand his mind.

So it wasn't exactly a surprise that Andrew did something Neil wasn't expecting, because as much as they knew each other's minutiae, being unpredictable was really the only predictability they both possessed.

“72%, jackass” He said while opening his arms in an invitation. “Come here.”

And Neil gladly accepted.

Skin-to-skin contact was always amazing when Andrew allowed it.

Andrew was warm and his skin a little sticky from all the sweat, Neil could barely get a yes or no before he got a resounding yes as he nuzzled his soulmate's neck.

Calm, snuggle, warmth.

Neil felt as if he had gone to heaven when he smelled Andrew together with his fingers running smoothly over his back between the myriad of aged and whitened scars. Andrew's feet hooking around Neil's ankles and their legs intertwining.

They were both only in boxers, too comfortable to get fully dressed after a round of heavy kissing, hands and mouths.

Neil could still feel the heat of Andrew's tongue on him, the warm, heavy feeling that built in his lower belly and the white light behind his eyes as his fingers curled with the shock that built up from the base of his spine.

“The percentage is growing fast.”

“Wait and see what happens on the hundred.” He smiled against the base of Andrew's throat.

“What happens?” His partner's arms tightened around his waist.

"I'll bury you in the garden."

“The house in Columbia doesn't have that much space.”

"We bought another one, then." Neil hummed with satisfaction at the sound of the us . “I'll stop sucking your dick if you're going to be stupid like that every time.”

"Liar, you like very much to know that it was your mouth that made me stupid."

Andrew hummed but didn't deny it.

Instead, he moved closer, nuzzling Neil's hair.

“It's okay not to be in survival mode for a few days, Neil.” His partner's voice was soft and his breath tickled. Neil still hasn't moved. “You don't have to deal with any of this alone.”

He knew Andrew was right — he usually was — but the suspicion about his own behavior still lingered.

Maybe it never really went away.

But in that moment, Neil let himself close his eyes and take Andrew's words as absolute truth, as a decree he couldn't refuse.

Neil accepted the moment of peace, accepted the lull, accepted that he had become the very eye of the hurricane.

He'd leave it to mourn and force himself into a slightly more vigilant state later, but now, however, Neil sank into Andrew.

The warmth cradled him as well as a soft, heavy blanket as he rested listening to the sounds of his soulmate's heartbeat.

— 

Neil was standing in front of three towers, his heart pounding at the similarity of the place.

It wasn't the first time he'd seen them—they were constants in his childhood past the age of nine. Neil lost count of how many times Kengo and Ichirou would watch him during practices in one of the towers, even though he pretended not to notice because of his fear of Kengo, Riko would never shut up about the presence of the two men and his hostile temper would turn even more bristly during that time.

Neil took a life in one of those towers, trained on that lawn, even slept once in the ravens' underground dorm.

The whole image of Evermore was fixedly etched in his mind and even more etched in his history.

“Can't say I missed here” Andrew's voice was clear in his mind, even though he was firmly planted beside Kevin, who looked as if he could see death waiting for him as the guards gestured to where the foxes were supposed to go.

"It was a better option than spending your days training with my father's people"

"Your standards are so low that it's a little pitiful" He suppressed the urge to shrug, but let his lips curl into an awkward smile.

“Never said they weren’t”

Dan was saying something while trying to keep all the foxes together, which was understandable. If ever there was a time when everyone was in a truly hostile environment, this was it.

Every inch of Edgar Allan's stadium was covered in black and red—a constant reminder that they were the intruders here, that they weren't wanted, that they would be knocked to the ground .

Neil had no doubts about today's defeat, the foxes were good, but the Ravens, unfortunately, they were best. That would change in the future, but not today . 

They just had to make sure that when they inevitably went down, they went down after giving those motherfuckers a big fight.

At the very least Neil would give Riko a big fight, if possible an even bigger headache — he had to be content with little, he still couldn't put a fucking bullet between Riko's eyes.

Everyone kept walking, the movement seeming more robotic than anything else. The space felt too narrow and there was too little air, the crowd was starting to fill the stadium and Neil could feel the whole place shudder under the weight of tens of thousands of people.

In the locker room no one said anything, the entire team deciding to stick together when changing regardless of gender.

Wymack and Abby waited patiently until they were each in their uniforms—Coach holding the racquet holder and the nurse a pressure glove.

Kevin approached the older man, hand outstretched and ready to grab his racket by the strings.

"Can you do this, Kevin?" Abby asked, looking for some sign that he was unwell. Kevin obviously didn't look like that was about to stop him. “You can play?”

“If I'm breathing, then I can play.” Kevin replied. “This is my game too.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Neil could see Andrew curl his lips into an expression he knew be a smile.

“Words of life and death.” Wymack said, gesturing for them to line up. “I expect a double-digit score from my offensive line. Kevin, you know their defense better than anyone and they don't know how to tackle you right-handed, so run them over. Neil get at least five points or you'll be running marathons every month until graduation.”

Neil looked at him, one eyebrow raised.

“Five points?”

"Do you think you can't?"

“I don't think I'm going to have that much openness, coach.” Neil leaned against one of the lockers. “But I can try anyway.”

Wymack nodded and then turned to the girls.

“Let the offensive sink in, if you have to. It's not your problem. Your focus tonight is to keep the defensive line, understand? We know the Ravens are faster, bigger and better than us. We only have one chance as long as we can control the score. Defense, keep the attackers away from the goal. And Andrew, for the first fucking time in your miserable life, play like you want us to win, okay?”

Andrew looked amused by this request, but Neil didn't find it that funny. His face contorted into a frown before he thought about it, but Andrew caught his eye before he could say anything.

“Pick better fights, rabbit”

“He talks like you never play”

“Because he knows what I can do when I want to” Neil narrowed his eyes.

“And do you want it today?”

“Oh, I look forward to sending a nice fuck you to Riko”

Neil smiled.

This was better than anything he could ask for.

Neil was about to tell Andrew to be careful during the game when the bell rang over their heads, alerting them that they should be in the inner courtyard in a minute. He'd be lying if he said he was the only one alert when the damn thing went off—if Neil was alarmed, Kevin jumped at the sound.

Abby glared at him, eyes narrowing as Kevin looked away anywhere but at the woman.

Wymack clapped his hands, getting everyone's attention and arranging them in a line.

“Let's go.” He said. “The sooner we finish these fuckers, the sooner we can get drunk at Abby's house. I spent the whole morning stocking the fridge.”

It wasn't exactly a vote of confidence, but most of Neil's teammates smiled and Nicky squealed happily. There was no point in pretending they weren't going to get slaughtered tonight, Wymack was offering them a chance to get drunk to sleep so they wouldn't stay up all night, bitter about impending failure.

Neil supposed that was better than nothing, even if he didn't know that what would make him sleep through the night definitely wouldn't be the alcohol—Andrew would probably take care of dragging him into a dream that would last all night.

Wymack opened the door and Dan gave his team a tight-lipped smile over his shoulder before leading them out onto the court.

Neil couldn't see the stands until they were almost to the inner courtyard, but the noise that hit him seemed twice as loud as ever. The roar rose to screams as the Foxes finally came into view.

The Vixens waved their pompoms in ecstatic salute. The school's marching band, Orange Notes, played the school's rallying cry as loud as they could, and somehow it still sounded drowned out by the rest of the noise. Neil looked out over the sea of orange, rolling his eyes as he met the visitors by the 1 and 2 marks they bore in honor of Riko and Kevin.

Ravens fans were even easier to find. They came all in black and took a whole section, reserved directly in front of the Foxes bench and it was like a black hole had swallowed part of the stadium, cliché as fuck in his opinion. The gimmick had worn thin enough with the ravens' performance during the feast.

With all the noise, Neil missed the announcement that signaled the entrance of the Ravens, but he didn't miss the sudden heavy beat of the drums. The song sounded strangely familiar, but it took a second to remember.

It was the song that announced Riko's arrival on Kathy's show: Edgar Allan's rallying cry. It wasn't upbeat and confident like any other music Neil had heard in other games. It was a dark, heavy tune, an intimidating message of death and domination. The Ravens took their image very seriously, but he couldn't help but think it was a little— very —ridiculous.

Anyway, Neil supposed the whole theatrically dramatic thing had some appeal, given the violent reaction of the crowd.

Palmetto students shouted hateful curses and boos, the Edgar Allan session roared a war cry, and fans who had traveled just to see a good show cheered the Ravens as fiercely as the Foxes had.

The teams were sent out for warm-up laps and Wymack ceded the infield to the Ravens as they had the bigger team.

Warm-up time passed too quickly, too quickly in her opinion, and soon everyone was lined up on the court, Dan and Riko already shaking hands in good sportsmanship—it was silly, but it wasn't like anyone there was going to point it out. , as tempting as it was — and the starters were already in their positions after having their names called by the announcer.

Neil forced himself to stay in his position when he saw Riko approach Kevin and wrap him in a hug around his shoulders, the crowd going crazy as Kevin turned white as a ghost. Neil gritted his teeth, hands gripping the racket tightly.

"Riko"

"I already saw"

Andrew slammed his racket hard against the goal wall, the sound a warning to Riko and a reminder to Kevin, Andrew's gaze through his helmet saying get out of there with enough power to thaw the man, who soon joined Neil at the half-court line.

“Coach asked for five points.” Kevin said. He still looked a little shaky, but Neil could tell the energy of being on the court was almost enough to make Kevin forget his fear.

“I promised to try.” The other man glared at him, green eyes bright behind the guardrails of his helmet. He nodded and lifted the racket to Neil, who slammed his against it.

“So let's try.”

The bell sounded.

The game started.

— 

Neil was on his feet, but barely. He was tired, he felt the exhaustion clawing at his bones like claws trying to hold on—but his eyes were completely fixed on the scoreboard.

Sober and new.

Highest score ever against the Ravens that season.

The highest score ever made by Andrew during his entire time as a goalkeeper.

The foxes' worst score in the last three years.

Neil scored his five points, but not without cost. His face ached where they had tried to crush his nose with an elbow, his chin was still sticky with blood, and his legs felt like they were made of Jello.

But still, he was still on his feet, chin up and about to punch the first motherfucker who said anything to him that pissed him off in the slightest.

His breaking point would be if anything was said about the thirteen points dropped by Andrew. Neil may not have been the best performer considering they lost, but still, Andrew was nothing less than bright.

He was fucking fantastic and the first asshole who said otherwise was going to be the target of all that rage Neil had been repressing since the start of the Ravens' foul play.

Looking over to where Andrew was standing, Neil saw that Kevin was already heading towards him, and with that hold on followed him with a look like the fucking banshee Neil knew he had the potential to be. He then put all the strength he could into his legs and walked as fast as he could while feeling his limbs move like jello.

Andrew was sitting, leaning against the goalpost.

"How are you?"

"Disappointment is a bitter drug. Even if I don't care about this shitty game" Andrew replied, eyes closed and seeming to have shut out the roar from the stands.

"You should be proud, not the other way around" Neil kept moving forward, passing Kevin, who kept pace and didn't even bother to look at him. By this time, Neil was more running than walking, and when he finally reached Andrew's side, he crouched down so he could talk to him better, using the excuse of picking up the racket that the other had dropped.

“We lose.” he said out of Neil's head, because Andrew liked to hear his voice.

“They threw a hundred and fifty balls at you. Only thirteen passed.”

—  Thirteen. My value in this damn sport will decrease.” Neil didn't suppress the smile that came with it.

“Yes, the coaches of every professional team are going to be so disappointed in a goaltender who can stop a hundred and thirty-seven points in a ninety-minute game.”

A small quirk rose on Andrew's lips, but it disappeared as quickly as it came with Kevin's arrival.

“So,” Kevin said, tired but without the weight on his shoulders that Neil thought he would see after the carnage that was the game. “Did you have fun?”

Andrew was too tired to put any heat into his words, but not too tired that he didn't give him the middle finger.

“You're odious, Kevin Day. I don't even know why I keep him around.”

"I have a list"

"Shut the fuck up, Josten"

After a while, all the foxes joined them. Some laughing, others—Aaron and Nicky—just looking sullen and tired enough that any happiness seemed drained from them.

It was almost easy to forget that they were in a hostile environment.

Almost.

“Foxes.” Riko called as the Ravens closed in on his back.

All the Foxes except Kevin turned to face him.

The high chin and inflated ego were a sign of his satisfaction with the situation, but the anger in his eyes was a pretty clear demonstration that he wasn't so happy with what happened.

Nine points from a team with nine players against thirteen points from a team with more than forty.

Neil had to stop himself from smiling.

“I admit I'm at a loss as to what to do now. I can't thank you for the game, because I can't call this fiasco a game. I thought I knew what to expect when we got here tonight, but I'm still embarrassed on your behalf. It was quite a fall, Kevin. You should have stayed on the floor, it would save us the trouble of forcing you to your knees again.”

If he hadn't seen the glint in Kevin's eyes, Neil would have gotten to his feet. If he hadn't seen the subtle smile at the corners of his mouth, he would have ripped Riko apart.

He saw them, though.

He saw them and was quiet.

“I’m satisfied.” Kevin said. That was probably the last of the answers any of the Foxes expected from him. It was instantaneous, each of them forgot about Riko, gaping at Kevin. “Not with the score or performance, but with the spirit they had. I was right. There's more than enough here for me to work with.”

“How many balls did you take in the helmet?” one of the Ravens asked. Kevin just smiled, slowly, sure and satisfied, and offered Andrew a hand.

Andrew looked at Raven, then at Kevin and let Kevin pull him to his feet, sending Neil a look.

Neil went quickly to him as Kevin released him, his hands wrapped around Andrew in a tight hug to keep him on his feet.

It was a little awkward with all the armor Andrew still wore, but Neil helped him find his footing after exhaustion and Kevin distracted the Ravens from the instability of Andrew facing them.

Neil was grateful.

More than grateful.

He tightened his grip on Andrew's waist a little, ignoring the look Riko sent him when she saw their proximity.

“Thanks for tonight's game.” He said. “We'll meet again in the finals. It will be an interesting rematch, I promise.”

Riko didn't seem to expect such calm and confidence after tonight's results and didn't react gracefully to the surprise.

“One man's strength can't take it that far. " he said, looking torn between disbelief and disgust. “Even you are not stupid enough to believe that, you have to give up now .” 

It was a threat, not friendly advice, but Kevin said:

"One is enough to start with."

It was visible the way the foxes puffed up with pride, how the bad mood and defeat seemed to be sucked out of them.

It was Kevin choosing them.

Kevin trusting them.

Dan smiled

"Thanks for nothing and good night." She said. “Let's get out of here.”

And everyone on the team began to withdraw.

Andrew leaned a little more into Neil and he tightened his arms around his partner.

"I think I painted a target on you" He spoke, but strangely it didn't taste like regret.

"Good. We're matching now"

He smiled, but didn't say anything else.

For now, they would rest.

— 

If Neil had to listen to Nicky talking about his costume for the Halloween party at Edens one more time while they were in that damn car, Andrew would probably have to wipe blood off the upholstery.

The idea of taking the upperclassmen seemed like a good thing before, the possibility of them teaming up at an off-court, non-exy-related event — plus being all together in one place where Neil could watch them so they didn't end up dead — being too tempting for him to let it go.

It was so easy to convince Andrew, he just told Neil he would be picking out the costumes, it was easy, so easy.

But then Andrew showed up the day before the damn party in identical black clothes and long overcoats and said, what do you know about makeup?

The answer was: nothing. Neil didn't know anything about makeup.

He still had to spend a good two hours making up Andrew and himself with waterproof skin paint while trying to turn their faces into skulls.

It got even worse when Nicky saw them and instantly started talking about how adorable it was that they were matching, even if the costumes were a little lazy and that those pants made Neil's ass look really nice and—

It was kind of a relief when Andrew finally decided to pull the knife on Nicky.

Not that that shut the man up, god knows that seemed like an impossible task, but it was enough for Neil to retain some of his patience.

"Remember this is all your fault"

"As if you weren't going to drag me into this anyway"

Andrew glanced at him out of the corner of his eye, a tiny smile on his lips, then looked straight ahead again.

"You're right, I would"

Neil groaned, sliding into the car seat. The other foxes followed behind, all in Matt's car—Allison didn't seem to feel like using her hot pink convertible since Seth, since that car was the last one he was in alive. Neil didn't blame her. —then he remembered that yes, it was worth going through that temptation.

It also helped that looking at Andrew's face was so good. It wasn't that he was an excellent makeup artist, it was just that that particular makeup suited his partner.

Neil used his knowledge of anatomy to try his best to keep the skull makeup realistic, which judging from the way Andrew seemed pleased with the way he looked, was worth every minute spent trying to keep Andrew from kissing him from ruining all the work Neil had already done on his face.

It wasn't like anything was wrong, it was just Neil being paranoid as usual and it stressed him out. Things had been calm since the game against the Ravens, very calm indeed. Neil didn't like it, he could still see the look in Riko's eyes when he saw him hugging Andrew to keep him on his feet—Neil had seen that same look once before and after that Seth ended up with an overdose.

A calm was never a good sign and a storm was never worth it.

He shifted, the gun in the waistband of his pants hot against the skin on both his backs.

"The static in your head the last few days is really getting tiring" Neil pursed his lips.

"I'm worried, that's all"

"Yes. Remember when your concern was that you weren't worried enough? I miss that time"

"It's the stillness. It bothers me"

Andrew this time looked at him, really looked. Like, turning his head to face him for a full five seconds, before sighing and then turning his attention back to the road.

"Glad Bee exists" He rolled his eyes. "Just… try to have fun today, okay? It's the first time we've spent halloween together outside of dreams"

Oh right. The third reason why tonight was something Neil wanted.

Before, they always had a tradition of trying to keep the holidays as normal as possible for the two of them. So Andrew would arrange his dream sets to make them feel themed and cozy.

One time when Neil was eight and Andrew nine, they decided they were going to celebrate Halloween like the two kids they weren't allowed to be. Andrew's dream seemed to have taken them straight to Hansel and Gretel's candy house—huge, covered with gingerbread walls, meringue ceiling, chocolate doorknobs, and marshmallow windows. Neil already didn't like things too sweet, but his eyes filled up when he saw the beautiful thing Andrew had created for them.

Of course, it didn't last. It never lasted—Neil was woken up by Lola pulling his hair and screaming that it was time to wake up, that they had things to open up—but it was the start of a series of events unique to both of them. It was good.

A bit of normality in the midst of their chaotic and cruel lives.

This year would be the first Andrew got to hold his hand during an actual Halloween party, and Neil knew he was excited about it—every holiday, really. Andrew wouldn't say, but Neil knew he was making plans for Christmas.

It all just added to the ball of worry in his stomach, not out of fear, no.

Because he wanted things to work, he wanted Andrew to have the holiday he wanted, the memories he wanted.

He wished they could be normal boyfriends, celebrating a completely harmless mundane date and end the night with Neil's two hours of hard work makeup smeared from their faces because they couldn't keep themselves away from each other.

"Static"

"Sorry"

"Aren't you sorry"

"Not really"

"Hey, talk to me" he said, Andrew's hands tightening on the steering wheel as a worried crease appeared between his brows. "Don't keep that shit to yourself"

Neil resisted the urge to shake his head.

"It's nothing, it's just…" He looked out the window. It was dark. "Bad Feeling"

The instant Andrew froze was when Neil realized what he had done and how easily it could end the night.

"Are you feeling something?" The tone was low and cautious. Neil knew that Andrew would turn around in an instant if he said yes, he was.

"Same as I felt before, with Seth. It's just instinct, but Riko is very calm and it feels very much like a repeat of the same."

Andrew's jaw twisted.

“We can go home if you want.

Neil knew it was true, Andrew would drop his plans in a heartbeat if he thought it would calm him down, there was also the fact that after so many years together, Andrew trusted Neil's instincts more than his own.

Even though Andrew had a good reaction time to tragic events, it was Neil who really lived them and felt them in his skin—carrying the hard lessons like scars on his flesh.

"I'll keep us safe"

"Neil" 

"I will"

"Tonight is for you too"

"It makes me happy just that you're having fun" It was tempting to just reach out and take Andrew's hand, running his thumb over his knuckles and the fine scars he has there from every fight he's ever been in.

"You are not the watchdog for my family and the other foxes"

"Watchdog is an occupation I'm proud of, Andrew" Neil could tell his partner was getting irritated, so he did his best to soften his expression and show he wasn't... unhappy, with the situation. It was just nerves, that's all. Neil and his nerves. "Trust me to know my limits?"

Andrew's jaw relaxed, but the muscles in his back tightened a little.

"It feels like I'm using you"

He rolled his eyes and let instinct win, hand reaching for the one Andrew was holding on to the handbrake on the dashboard and hesitating only a moment, waiting for permission. When it was granted, Neil did exactly what he wanted before—fingers running over the slight bumps in the skin, so light they were barely visible.

He lingered on a small group of white circles that looked like freckles—those were from when Andrew insisted on cooking, even though he knew his skill at it was next to zero. It ended up with him getting a few burns from the hot oil and a sudden new interest in cooking—what Neil called wounded pride—and Andrew becoming surprisingly good at it.

He smiled at the memory and from the look shot at him, Andrew remembered too.

"You're not that stupid, Andrew"

His soulmate's hand gripped his in a strong grip.

"It's different when it's you. I can't think"

Neil's smile grew, hearing a grunt coming from the backseat of the car, he was reminded that they weren't alone.

Neil didn't let go of Andrew's hand when he looked back, however he was surprised to see Nicky looking down at his feet with a grimace, one arm wrapped around his stomach, Kevin looking out a window completely uninterested and Aaron looking out the other window, a smile small adorning the lips.

It didn't take a genius to figure out what happened, and Neil couldn't help but feel grateful for Aaron's protection during that small, intimate moment.

He turned to Andrew, whose eyes were still on the road, but whose fingers remained immobile from where they'd connected to Neil's skin.

“Let me take care of you tonight?”

"You've taken care of me since I was seven" Andrew answered. “It doesn't seem fair”

Neil stared straight ahead, his heart heavy with anticipation, but he felt light with the decision.

It was worth.

“There is no justice, Drew. Besides, I might just be paranoid” He didn't buy it, Neil knew not from the way Andrew's jaw tightened. "It would not be the first time"

"You're an idiot"

“And you still wanted me, what does that make you?”

The tension on Andrew's face was replaced by a rare smile that showed one of the dimples at the corner of his mouth and Neil had to suppress the overwhelming desire to touch him.

"I guess you're right"

He squeezed Andrew's hand tightly.

“Now that would be a first”

— 

It turns out that a Halloween out of dreams Andrew built for the two of them was just too… noisy. Andrew tried to make it less chaotic for them by booking nine VIP passes, which gave each of the foxes free access to booze and allowed them into more private, less crowded places. Neil thought it was a waste to spend a VIP on him, but Andrew just stared at him until he took the pass — not without muttering that he didn't even drink or dance or anything like that.

Neil didn't try to hide his grimace of displeasure when he saw the packets of cracker dust being passed between Nicky, Kevin and Aaron — but he forced himself to relax when Andrew placed a hand on his lower back, giving him a serious look translated well the ‘I wouldn't let them use shit that would harm them’, but Neil still didn't like the dust.

When everyone was settled at the tables, Neil got up next to Andrew to get their drinks.

Roland looked busy with the crowd of customers desperate for alcohol demanding their drinks, but when he spotted Andrew, he smiled and waved them over to the bar.

"My favorite customer!" He said when the two reached the bench. Roland wore the same dreadlocks as always, but they were all decorated with gold pendants, which went well with the eyeshadow color of another one he wore. The color stood out just enough with the black tone of his skin, a dark enough brown that the light made it glow. He was dressed as a mummy and in his smile Neil could see at least two fake gold teeth.

"Should I be concerned about how much you're staring at our bartender?"

Neil made a face.

"Why would you care?" Andrew watched him out of the corner of his eye, a tiny thing pulling up his lips as he bit back a smile.

"Roland is hot and he flirts with you every time we come here" Neil blinked at Andrew, his neck turning toward his partner so quickly he felt it snap.

Neil knew Roland was attractive, he could pretty much tell when a person was or wasn't beautiful, but he wasn't like this for him.

And the other thing? As for Roland flirting, Neil didn't know if Andrew was fucking with him or he just didn't even know what flirting was.

The first option was more likely, it was a little disconcerting to think that Andrew didn't know that moving the muscles in his back at just the right moment to make Neil blush with embarrassment at being caught was very, very effective flirting.

"You're fucking with me" He concluded, nodding his head and completely certain of his conviction.

"You are so stupid. God, watch him Josten"

The next few minutes were filled with Andrew explaining Roland's tactics; the way he gave Neil an extra drink, the way he smiled more at Neil, the way he kept turning his good side towards him while winking playfully.

It was a bit of a shock to be presented with the new realization that the guy Andrew had sex with sometimes before they dated was interested in Neil and worse, he didn't notice.

“How the hell did I miss this?”

"Probably because he's not trying to kill you" Andrew answered when he had all the drinks on the trays balanced enough for them to leave. “How you realized we were having feelings for each other before I did I will never find out”

It made sense, so Neil decided not to contest it; he was too busy making space between people and keeping them away from Andrew.

It wasn't easy to find the table his teammates had found in such a dense crowd, but it was a little difficult to get lost with Andrew guiding him in his head, and when they finally arrived, whatever the conversation was about died away—but how it left an irritated Aaron and an embarrassed Nicky smiling, as if trying to appease the situation.

The upperclassmen also looked uncomfortable, which was probably thanks to Aaron.

Good.

Neil would not allow them to talk about Andrew.

Any and all disagreements, however, were forgotten in favor of the alcohol put on the table—Allison immediately attacking a large glass of Piña Colada that Neil knew was probably Nicky’s —but since Allison had his favor, he didn't interrupt her shoplifting.

Soon everyone decided to go out dancing, Renee hesitating for only a second, a lingering glance at Andrew and Neil before turning to Allison, who was waiting. She smiled at the two of them before following her, leaving Neil and Andrew alone.

It was automatic the way he melted into his chair, his head resting on Andrew's shoulder, who let one hand fall comfortably on Neil's inner thigh.

“Your friends didn't look too happy when we arrived.” Andrew said, his thumb circling his skin as Neil hummed.

“They were probably talking shit. Aaron seems to have them in place before I can.” Neil frowned, the feeling of barely hearing his own voice over the noise of the club being a little too uncomfortable to handle. "It was good, I'm getting tired of trying to straighten them out"

“Speak out of my head” He said, and then added: "I do not care about it. Already said"

The lights were aggressive, not giving a break when switching between green, blue, pink and red. Neil didn't like it, he didn't like a lot of things.

He didn't like how the lights darkened Andrew's eyes.

He didn't like how he could barely feel the vibration of his own speech.

He didn't like that Aaron had to educate the upperclassmen because they were incapable of behaving themselves in the presence of Andrew and his family.

Didn't like how he had to repeat himself over and over and over again and again .

He didn't like how they still called him a monster.

Neil couldn't do anything about many things he hated for a long time; but he could break into the club's control room and turn off the damn lights.

He could stop his friends, people he—against the best of judgment—cared about, from offending the person Neil loved.

“It's offensive.” Said quietly, not knowing if he wanted Andrew to hear or not. “We've been surviving monsters since we were born and they say you're one.” Andrew's hand tightened on the flesh of his thigh. Oh, he was listening then. “You're a man, that's all. We know monsters and it's offensive to compare them to them, I hate that. I hate that they make you see yourself as them.”

Andrew moved, taking Neil's head off his shoulder and placing the two so that they were almost facing each other, Andrew's lips almost touching his ear as he said,

“You know, Neil. You know and you are always here to remind me. It's what I need.”

Andrew's palm cupped his face, the warm inside of his hand sending waves of comfort through Neil's skin. He closed his eyes.

“I need you to know even if I'm not here.” Neil let his face rest in the warm palm. “I need you to know that you're not a monster because of who you are.”

He tried not to think about the timer that determined his lifespan, tried not to think that he was counting down and that his chances were low even with Ichirou and Stuart by his side.

The clock ticked as Neil opened his eyes and stared into Andrew's pale face, concern staining his already dark gaze from the amount of lights. The nearly white hair being dyed pink, blue, red, green and then pink again—Neil wasn't saying he was going to leave it. If he could, he never would, but he wasn't the owner of life itself, his survival would depend on whether the sequence of events that year would be favorable to him or not.

And even though he planned to fight until the last second, Neil still needed Andrew to be able to stand up without him.

He needed him to see himself and not a monster without Neil there by his side to remind him he was just a man.

“You are so stupid.” Andrew said, but there was no warmth in the words. He looked all sharp edges and soft insides. It looked smooth, Neil was always grateful for the sight. "Don't talk like that, you won't get rid of me."

“I'm not trying.”

“You make it sound like you're replaceable.” Andrew's thumb pressed into Neil's cheek. “You are not.”

He smiled, feeling Andrew's thumb slipping from where it was on his cheek to trace his lips.

Neil leaned in, a request as much as an invitation, and was more than pleased to feel the heat of Andrew's mouth against his.

He parted his lips, letting Andrew drag his tongue across his and pull him closer, robbing his lungs of air.

Andrew tasted like whiskey and oranges and tobacco.

It was addictive. Andrew was addictive.

“I know." he said against Andrew's lips in the brief moment they broke apart, only to return to the kiss.

They broke apart after a few minutes, the thing about trying to remain a secret until things calmed down out weighing the need to kiss in such a public place.

The foxes returned to the tables from time to time, had a drink—Kevin and Nicky got some dust, Aaron making the decision to take care of the two idiots—and then went back to the dance floor.

Everything was fine, everything was normal. Andrew and he had taken another round of drinks, the foxes were easy to see.

Everything was alright.

Until it wasn't.

It started out small, so small he barely noticed it—a twinge behind his eyes, an inconsistent pain that came and went whenever he blinked or moved.

It could be his paranoia, it could be the result of years of looking over his shoulder and wondering, designing the danger in the shadows—it could be his fucked up brain telling him that Andrew was in danger without being true.

It could have been all of those things, but it wasn't. No.

It was a real threat.

Neil felt his body stiffen, eyes going to the emergency exits — Were they coming from the windows? He counted nine or more, but it didn't seem to come from there.

The second floor was also out of the question, Andrew never went there, Roland only worked on the first floor, and Andrew didn't trust strangers. So whoever the threat was, it was there.

The twinge was mild, so the danger wasn't much. He closed his eyes and concentrated, where was it coming from? Right? left? inside?

Neil opened his eyes, his focus on the club entrance.

Outside.

“Neil? What was it?” Andrew asked, trying to follow Neil's gaze. But he knew there would be nothing, Andrew couldn't feel them, not like Neil could. He wouldn't know about the threat if Neil didn't tell him, he wouldn't be in danger if Neil faced it alone. “Fuck, talk to me .” 

Yeah, as if it were an option.

"There are people here. You are in danger"

Andrew's entire body stiffened.

"Where?" His voice sounded strained.

Neil was opening his mouth to respond when real pain hit him, something searing, hot, that felt a lot like someone thrusting fingers into his eye sockets and splitting his skull open from the inside out.

Take him off take him off take him off

Danger

Danger

Danger

Andrew is in danger

Neil bit his cheek to concentrate, the metallic taste of blood taking over one of his senses and making it easier to focus.

"Outside. They're out there" Neil swallowed back the blood, taking Andrew's cell phone out of his pocket and handing it over. "Act like nothing's wrong, text Aaron to get everyone together. Take them to the parking lot, I'll go after whoever wants to get you"

He was just getting to his feet when the pain in his wrist caught his attention. Neil knew that, Andrew always pinched his own wrist when he needed to keep Neil's focus on him above all else.

"You're not going alone. I can help"

"I'd rather you protect others"

"I'm not stupid, Neil" And oh, there it was. The crackling anger ignited in his soulmate's eyes. So hot it nearly burned him. Anger at him? "I won't leave you alone now that I can help"

Oh. Not mad at him then.

For him.

For Neil having to fight again.

"You said you'd let me take care of you today"

"He also said it wasn't fair. Neil—" Andrew stood, holding his face in his hands. "Don't do it all alone"

It felt too much like a request, too much like a plea.

It felt like an please.

Neil froze in place, gritting his teeth as the sense of danger rose enough to send his stomach into a sea of flames.

"Tell Aaron to take all the foxes to the second floor. They won't chase you there, they probably know your habits. Tell Aaron I'll take care of you and that he doesn't tell the foxes what's going on" Andrew frowned but nodded, sending what was probably the longest text message he had ever written in his life.

Neil didn't give him time to finish the thing before he started moving, the pain increasing as he walked towards the club's entrance, ignoring the bouncer telling him they couldn't go out that way.

The queue at the entrance was short, probably thanks to the time—it must have been after two in the morning—but there was still enough traffic that Neil didn't know exactly where to look for the threat.

It didn't help that everyone was in costume.

A sharp twinge in his head nearly sent him to his knees when his sensor provided: left.

Neil quickly looked over, making a point of placing himself in front of Andrew in an inconspicuous manner.

A group of men wearing suits and clown masks caught her eye, there were four of them. Neil narrowed his eyes, searching.

Shoes, pants, shirt, jacket. Where were you? Where were you?

His eyes darted over the group as he walked, leading Andrew into the alley—the clowns looked after him, then began to follow. The movement of her steps making his clothes part enough for Neil to see.

Oh, there it was.

He gritted his teeth.

"Ain't Butcher's Men" I told Andrew. "There are knives in them. But weapons too"

"What do we do?"

Neil grabbed the gun hidden behind his back. He was reluctant to bring it, the odd sense of unease at thinking the worst about the night Andrew had arranged almost overcoming him in his discomfort at ignoring his instincts.

Now he was simply relieved to have brought it.

"We kill them before they kill us"

Neil took a deep breath, heading toward a darker corner of the alley—a metallic sheen caught his eye, Andrew had drawn his knives. He cursed himself for not insisting on teaching Andrew to shoot as well, his partner always so comfortable and confident with blades that Neil failed to predict this exact type of situation.

“Do you need me to watch them?”

“Yes, but keep a conscience here. I don't know what kind of weapon they have"

Andrew nodded, his eyes losing a little sparkle in the dark as a second Andrew appeared at Neil's side and then disappeared.

He saw the crease grow between his soulmate's brows, too, and the headache hit him like a punch—it always overwhelmed Andrew to pull away from Neil's physical form as he projected.

Close close close

Take him away

Just this once, Neil would like to silence the voices in his mind that told him to keep Andrew safe—it wasn't like he wasn't trying .

And he was. Neil just wanted Andrew safe . 

But then there was the headache.

Blood trickling down Andrew's nose.

The low whisper muffled by the sound of the night and the noise of music playing in the club: they arrived.

And the voice in his head, and the pain that rips through his skull, and the feeling of dying for putting Andrew in danger.

Left

Neil bent down, pulling Andrew with him, his knee scraping the concrete floor and probably destroying one of the pants Andrew bought him—it didn't matter.

Neil knew they were armed, but that didn't mean they were going to use the fucking gun—there were too many factors to consider, too many risks. Whatever they needed to do probably required secrecy , which the sound of a gun going off could not provide.

“They have another weapon, something that's silent. Watch out for knives”

"Silencer?"

With the club's loud music, maybe. It could be.

It was a possibility, Neil wasn't going to risk it.

He put his finger on the trigger of his pistol—it was a good thing he'd decided to keep the silencer on the gun as well.

The instant he saw the clown mask, that's when he sprang into action. The finger sank in, the shot lit up the alley.

There were three others.

One was tipping forward.

One fell.

Blood spread across the floor with the same speed as the other three started running towards them.

Neil didn't give them a chance to hit him first and Andrew followed his actions, he didn't get rid of the knives by throwing them— but one in one hand and a gun in the other was good enough.

He saw out of the corner of his eye Andrew duck and dodge the nearly accurate swing towards him with a curved knife that would go straight for his throat, while he himself just had to dodge an honestly pathetic punch. Andrew dodged again when the same clown man threw the knife at him with the intention of sticking it in his shoulder and Neil only took the handle of the knife to his temple.

And, oh, as if it wasn't bad enough that they were attacking Andrew's night, they were trying to kill Neil's soulmate.

Blood trickled down his face, he had to blink to keep it out of his eyes.

"You are the target"

"What—"

"I shouldn't have let you come here" Neil swallowed hard, anger festering in his throat and chest and rising to the surface.

They wanted to kill Andrew.

Kill Andrew. 

“Neil—”

"Careful" And then he aimed at the man who was trying to throw a punch at him and fired.

He only needed one, anyway.

If there was one thing Neil was taught as a child that he hasn't tried to let go of — not that he hasn't thought about it, the desire to be more human and less like his parents always being a little too strong, but in the end, the blood it was a call home—it was like compartmentalizing feelings and dismissing guilt. The strongest would live and the weakest would be discarded. You lived or died, and if you died, you would leave a loophole for those you care about to be killed as well.

Neil trusted Andrew to fight, to kill, and to survive.

It didn't mean he wanted Andrew to have to do anything about it.

He didn't even blink as the clown man's body began to topple toward him—the mask broken across his forehead, a misshapen circle where the bullet entered and the crater left in the back of his skull—he just dodged, running toward Andrew, who from the constant flow of blood in his cheek and the pain in Neil's, he was taken aback by the sound of the shot.

He hit the man with a blow butt in the ribs, getting kicked in the joint of his knees and feeling a stab in his leg when the characteristic burning sensation of being stabbed.

Neil barely reacted when he saw Andrew's knife moving toward the clown-man's eye—the shiny metal blade sinking into the protective tissue of the mask's eye region, the man pulling the knife down on Neil's leg and opening the wound as he scrambled away screaming, the fight forgotten in favor of kneeling on the ground and screaming, both hands to his face as blood trickled down the black gloves he wore in a slow line.

Neil ripped the blade from his skin and handed it to Andrew, who was staring at Neil's wound with wide eyes.

He could deal with that later.

There were still two alive—even if only one who was determined to fight.

Neil looked at the last clown man, he had some cuts on his arms and had a gun pointed at them.

There was a tremor there, a very characteristic one. One that Neil was forced to miss after continual lessons from Lola, Romero and worst case scenario, DiMaccio and his father.

It was then that the realization dawned—they were amateurs. They weren't assassins trained by Nathan's men, let alone Moriyama's.

Neil took a step forward, and when Andrew came to stand beside him, the gun of the last clown man standing immediately aimed at him and the tremor increased.

Neil felt his heart race at the sight of his soulmate held at gunpoint. The surrounding danger was… significantly less than before.

He grinned, his leg sending spikes of pain high enough to ignore the voice in his mind ordering him to get Andrew out of there.

The man was afraid to shoot.

"You know what will happen if you pull that trigger, don't you?" he said, raising his own weapon. He pointed at the clown man.

"If you move, I'll blow his brains out." The man's voice was low pitched, but definitely younger than Neil expected from someone trying to kill him.

He tilted his head, assessing. The clown man Andrew stabbed crawled to the wall and looked already half dead as he used strength to try and stop the bleeding from his eye.

Neil pointed the gun at him quickly and, without even blinking, fired.

Once, twice.

One bullet in the head and one in the heart.

The gun's recoil made his arm hurt a little, but intimidation was a big part of it.

“Neil”

"I’m fine"

“He was almost dead”

"I know" He looked at the clown-man; the only one left. Blood dripped from the cuts on his arm. He was shaking more than before. "He is afraid"

Andrew's gaze cleared.

“You are trying to freak him out”

Neil's smile grew involuntarily, turning into that hideous thing inherited from his father. He used the fingers of his free hand to cover his mouth.

Everything tasted like blood.

“And it won’t even be that hard”

“Then? You're the last one, what are you gonna do?” Neil took a step forward, his leg protesting and the danger to Andrew gone. The clown-man took a step back. Good. “You've got more bullets, but shaking like that, I doubt you'll even hit a fucking elephant in front of you.” One step forward and another and another. The man towered over him, but Neil always knew how to make his presence appear prominent. When facing the man, he looked a lot like a scared mouse. "While I've been taught never to be wrong since very young, but you know that, don't you?” He took another step and the gun moved toward him.

The thing right on his face was shaking so badly it was pathetic, Neil saw the bloodstain on his feet grow as he pushed at the wound and saw the bloodstain grow under the man's feet as well.

He knew it wasn't blood.

“If I don't hurt Andrew, Riko will kill me.”

“If you hurt him, I'll make you beg to be killed.” He reached up with his free hand and grabbed the man's wrist in one swift motion and lifted him up at the same time that he shot one of his knees.

The man screamed, falling to the ground, the gun forgotten beside his head as he brought his injured leg to his chest.

He screamed and screamed, but the loud sound of the club's music covered everything. Neil had time.

"Text Stuart. Tell him we need cleaning"

"Are you going to kill him?"

"Depends on what I get here"

There was a pause, the static in Andrew's mind and the crease between his brows. Blood was still dripping from his cheek, but Neil's mind left him alone. There were no more screams, there was no more feeling of being suffocated, there was no more feeling of his skull imploding—no, now there was just the numb pain of Andrew's wounds pulsing alongside his own.

Neil could cry at how easy it was, how scared he was of putting Andrew at risk.

"We need to take care of your leg" He wanted to close his eyes and rest his head on Andrew's shoulder. Ask permission to collapse into it, to breathe it, to use its strength.

Because Neil didn't have any left.

"Text Stuart"

Neil ducked, his leg burning with the pain of having his flesh cut open, but it didn't matter. He reached out and grabbed a fistful of the man's hair and pulled, the scream cut off when Neil also pulled his mask up.

The face was not known. He looked to be in his mid-30s, but he could have been younger. White skin, brown eyes. An ordinary, perfectly forgettable face.

"Riko sent you. But who commands you?” The man glared at him, the dark brown irises flickering with anger and fear. He still hasn't opened his mouth. "Silent type, huh? Come on, it'll be easier if you just tell me who you work for.”

He didn't say, mouth closed in a commendable way.

At least it was, until Neil reached down from his hair and found the bullet hole in his knee, sticking his index finger into the wound and squeezing until he found the bone.

The man's scream was guttural, but Neil stopped it any further when he shoved the clown mask hard into the man's mouth. It knocked against the teeth and probably broke one.

It didn't matter, at least Neil didn't care.

He took the mask off the man's mouth and leaned over.

“Names?”

"Fuck you, psychopath!" Neil raised an eyebrow, grabbed the gun, and shot the man in the other knee. He opened his mouth to scream again and Neil once again stuffed the mask into his mouth.

"Come on, I just need a name." The man didn't seem eager to speak, but Neil knew his willpower was weak, and he also knew how pain could break a weak will in seconds.

He bent down again, and this time he poked two fingers into the hole of the latest bullet. Neil dug in, pressing the mask deeper into the man's mouth as his lungs deflated with a spine-chilling scream.

Neil sank deeper, letting his nails scrape into the flesh, finding the broken bone and squeezing it between his fingers. His entire hand was sticky with blood and the numbness in his body was known.

Something about the weird, spongy texture of the flesh still glued to the bones, or maybe about how hot it was in a very warm wrong way, always left him outside his own body. An impartial, merciless spectator as he gripped the shattered bone of a man he would kill without blinking the instant he got what he wanted.

Neil took the mask off the man's mouth again and asked again:

“Names?”

“ Riko, send me! He hired us! He hired a lot of people, fuck, fuck please!” Neil watched as Andrew stiffened beside him and that was how he knew it was time to end this.

"Has he been hiring for a long time?"

“From what I heard over a year ago, he wants to get rid of his brother and he needed people who knew how to make his shit work.” The man sobbed, his hands going to where Neil's still were. His eyes wide, probably from shock and pain, he looked like a lunatic. "I joined a little while ago, please just stop , I'm sorry I got in your way, I'll disappear I promise , just stop !”

“Neil”

"It’s fine"

He removed his fingers from the flesh, still not looking away from the man's face. There were smears of blood on his cheek, stains that were being washed away by the tears streaming down his face.

Neil knew it hurt, he was very familiar with the feeling thanks to his mother. He knew what it was like, but he couldn't find in himself a reason to feel guilty for the tremors in that man's body—all he felt was anger. Hot, fiery, burning him from the inside out.

Riko sent them after Andrew.

He knew.

"What did he tell you? About me, about Andrew?”

The man swallowed back a sob as he curled into a pathetic ball.

“That our target was the blond and that you were dangerous. That we should make Andrew Minyard bleed and make it clear who did it, that you should know and that if we don't, he'll kill us.”

Oh

So it was like that.

Something in Neil opened, a hollow hole in his chest.

“Thanks for your cooperation.” He was quick to grab the gun and, before the horrified scream escaped the man's throat, Neil had shot him between the eyes. Everything went eerily still, the blood flowing from the corpse's head as its open eyes lost all sparkle. Neil stared at him, wanting to feel something, any thing. But there was nothing. “Stuart?” he asked, his voice hoarse.

Names, he realized. They were such mundane things, yet so unique.

He just took four lives and he didn't even know their names.

Neil looked down at his hands, blood red glistening in the dim light coming from the streetlight.

Neil hated blood.

“He said not to worry, that we could leave as soon as we were done here.” Andrew said, voice flat giving nothing away. "Are we done here?"

Nothing, nothing, nothing

Nothing

Neil got to his feet, ignoring the pain in his leg and walking over to Andrew, who didn't move to move out of his way—stupid, stupid Andrew. Neil wouldn't live in it, but he would die for it.

He looked at the corpses, something like amusement rising in him.

Neil would probably die anyway.

His eyes misted over as he reached up, wanting to touch Andrew's face, touch the wound on his cheek and make sure it was real—but then he stopped himself. His hands were so full of blood.

Neil didn't want to get the blood on Andrew.

It didn't matter much, because Andrew grabbed his hand and laid his own cheek in his palm.

Neil stroked the white fur with his thumb, the red spot spreading where his skin touched.

“He knows.” he whispered.

The weight of the sentence nearly sent him to his knees on the floor.

He knows

He knows

He knows

He knows

His mind sang that little piece of information over and over, all the possible scenarios where Andrew ends up dead playing through his mind.

Fuck, fuck

Neil felt a laugh rise in his throat as he leaned over, his weight falling all over Andrew, who kept him upright even though Neil had lost all his support structures.

“He knows, Andrew. He wouldn't have sent someone after you if he didn't know. His throat hurt. His leg hurt. His entire body was just pain. “I just… I don't know what he's going to do now.”