Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Got a wife and kids in Baltimore, Jack
I went out for a ride, and I never went back
Like a river that don't know where it's flowing
I took a wrong turn, and I just kept going

Kevin nearly hit the mailbox, pristine and off-white coloured, as he was pulling out of the driveway a bit too fast, a bit too insecure. The old neighbour who seemingly spent every day of the week watering the flowers in front of her house was looking up with something akin to worry in her eyes. It didn’t surprise Kevin, who usually tried to avoid taking the big navy car that Thea had encouraged him to buy three years back. He cursed, being reminded that there is a good reason why he tried to not find himself behind the steering wheel. Luckily, he had found a good excuse in his team’s unofficial set of rules. Ever since the re-branding from the Wildcats to the Bobcats, Baltimore's exy team had moved some of their more strict policies into an unofficial grey area of rules. Still, following their original beliefs, the Baltimore Bobcats encouraged their athletes to not take private cars, often providing chauffeurs to make up for it, quoting the high risk of injury to car drivers as a reason. This rule was ignored by many athletes, but Kevin accepted it gladly. Cars had always made him feel uneasy.

He wasn’t a good driver, never had been one, and it had happened one too many times that sitting in the driver’s seat reminded him of a black leather steering wheel drenched in blood, about his left hand cradled against his chest, about dark nights and pain. And yet here he was again, another time where his only way out seemed to be a car he never had asked for in the first place. Overcome with crushing yet eye-opening panic, he had followed the sudden and compelling urge to get up, leave the house, and drive away – nearly hitting the mailbox, pristine and off-white coloured, proudly bearing “Day & Muldani”.

Somehow, deep down, Kevin instantly understood that he did not want to return to this mailbox ever again, and the oppressive feeling of guilt in his chest nearly made him crash the car again. He blinked against tears collecting in his eyes but quickly realised that he would see the streets more clearly if he just allowed them to fall down. There was no one in the car to judge him for it. There was judgement everywhere else, but here, in his car, he could allow himself to feel the frustration that had been growing in his heart for the last months, possibly years. Every minute of these years that he hadn't spent on the court had felt wasted, and suddenly he was overcome with the fear that he had simply thrown away his chance of a happy life. He fully understood that all of this had been his fault; all these thorny vines of regret and weariness had been finding their places in his heart for so much longer than just this afternoon. The guilt on top of that just made the cocktail of chaos perfect.

He hoped that Thea would understand one day, maybe even forgive him. There was no one to blame for Kevin’s disappointment with his own life, least of all her. Deep in his chest, there had been a growing understanding of how he hadn’t been happy in this marriage from the very beginning; still, he never would want to blame her. For both of them, the marriage had been the next logical step in a long and perfectly normal relationship. He had been the one to propose, smiling first for her and then for the cameras when they saw the ring on her finger. They had built the perfect life with each other, a life he had always dreamed of back in the nest. Living together, playing together. And it wasn’t like he had been the only one to give up certain things for this life. Thea, too, had left a team, which had made her happy when Kevin’s agent had implied that the Baltimore Bobcats would be very willing to make room for both a strong backliner and striker as well as a payment plan that was in line with Kevin’s – the Moriyama’s – stiff demands. So they both had switched their teams three years back to move in together. A new start, that only had felt somewhat new. Back to a team that Kevin had been forced to leave all these years ago, despite their rebranding and changed trainers. In Baltimore of all places, an irony that had not been lost on Kevin’s college teammates – if not to say that said irony had led to one or two heated arguments and a questioning of Kevin’s sanity. In the end, everyone had accepted that moving to this city was acceptable if Kevin would be happy there with Thea. And now here he was, questioning if he ever had been truly happy in this city, even just for a day.

Kevin felt somewhat betrayed by his tears, by his panic. He did what everyone had expected of him, he did what he himself had expected from him, and there had been no reason for him to just get in his car and leave. Life had been good. Life could still be good if he got his act together and turned this car around. But even as he considered that option, he knew that the thorns in his heart wouldn't allow him to do that. Still, the guilt remained. He had never meant to leave her like that. Maybe, some nights, he had thought about leaving Thea one day. But never like that. She deserved better.

He had kept his tears in check until he turned on the highway, but then, suddenly, he couldn’t hold all of them back any more. Just as he put his car in cruise control, the first sob escaped his chest, and he instantly knew that there was no point in trying to stop them. He hadn’t hated this life; no, he knew how terrible life really could be. But he hadn’t cared for it either. And Thea, apparently, had been caught up in the crossfire of Kevin’s confusing emotions. Kevin wondered if he should stop the car on the shoulder, just for safety reasons, but somehow he was missing the strength to do so, even as more sobs shuddered through his body. So Thea had wanted to start a family. With him. She had wanted children, their own children. And of course, since barely anything went the easy way in Kevin’s miserable life, this hadn’t been a normal discussion.

His life had been the general annoyance it tended to be, but fine, when he left the training facility earlier this afternoon. Then he had come home to a sight nothing could have prepared him for. Thea, sitting at their dinner table, holding a pregnancy test in her hands, and, for lack of better words, looking extremely beaten-down, as if she tried to contain disappointment in herself but it kept spilling into their clean dining room. Without a single doubt in his mind, Kevin had posed the alarming question: “Are you pregnant?” Somehow, Thea had given him an answer that had been worse than a simple yes to him: “No, I was just wondering, because I am late, but… It would have been nice.” And just like that, they had been caught in each other’s stares, and as Kevin saw the genuine hope in her dark brown eyes, she must have seen the trepidation in his. He had seen how she tried to push hope and defeat back down, so he had turned and left the house.

On paper, it had been a reasonable wish. Thea had celebrated her 34th birthday just a few weeks ago, and she had been talking about retiring from her active sports career for the last year, ever since she had endured an ankle injury during a rough game. Afterward, she had been complaining about pain and inflexibility often. Of course, Kevin had tried to help, had encouraged her, and had even dutifully done the physical therapy exercises with her, disregarding his own fear response to discussions of retirement from the sport, about declining strength, and slower healing times. Sometimes, he had been throwing up in the bathroom after especially taxing sessions during which he could tell how much flexibility he had lost in his joints as well. He knew that with his 30 years, he was on a declining fitness curve, but every night he looked to the God he never believed in and begged for just a few years more. Thea, however, had accepted that she would need to retire sooner rather than later, and she had discussed future plans with him. Maybe she could continue as a coach; a lot of people were interested in her expertise. She had even joked about the outrageous offer she had gotten from a major publishing house, asking for her memoir about her time in the nest and how she excelled in the sport as a Black woman.

Yet, she had never talked about children. Kevin hadn’t even considered that possibility. In his head, there were people who had children and people who hadn’t, and he had sorted himself and his wife very resolutely on the latter side. Children only carried meaning in a life without an active exy career and therefore children did not play a role in Kevin’s thoughts. Of course, some of his teammates had children already, but often Kevin looked at these families and thought to himself that this whole concept just seemed like a waste of energy that could have been more productive on the court. So Kevin had gracefully ignored every tabloid article discussing when the power couple of exy would announce a pregnancy, had neatly ignored how the concept of a child would complete his picture-perfect life. Everything related to this topic had seemed like a discussion for the future, not an unavoidable incident in his dining room on a random Thursday afternoon, exhilarated by a negative pregnancy test.

What if that test had been positive? Would he still be driving away, tears all over his face? Kevin feared so. First and foremost, he had always been a coward. But he believed that he would try and return. And then? Would he be a good father? Only asking himself that question was enough to terrify him, considering he was scared of the answer he wanted to give himself. He had never understood children, especially considering that he had missed out on his own childhood as well. He couldn’t even conceptualise what a child would need from a father. Kevin felt like the loneliest person on this planet, and he didn’t think parents were supposed to feel that way. He knew that there were people he could ask about this. Thea, naturally. His teammates who had children ranging from ages ‘basically just born’ to ‘basically an adult’. And Aaron, of course. His twin girls had turned a year just last week. Kevin had panicked about the appropriate birthday presents for such a milestone and then fought with Andrew on the phone because Andrew hadn’t been helpful with his advice at all. Kevin's fault for even trying, really. Unexpectedly, while trying to breathe against his sobs, Kevin remembers and wonders if Aaron had received the presents in the mail. Kevin’s phone has been left somewhere at home, so he couldn’t check his messages, even if he wanted to. He didn’t; even the idea of talking to anyone about all the ways love and care could or couldn't be expressed made the sobs get worse. Aaron was a good dad, no doubt, but that did not mean that he would be able to heal whatever was broken within Kevin. Parenthood couldn’t be taught.

Kevin has been driving for way too long, just following an instinct that he couldn’t name. He gets off one highway, switches onto another, and suddenly realises where all the wrong turns were taking him. There had only ever been two exy courts that had any real claim to the label of 'home' for Kevin. And to one of them he still had to return semi-regularly, whenever he had training lessons with the National Court. Kevin hadn’t planned to go to the court that was still his second most common training facility, even after this home had been broken down, closed up, and opened as something he did not understand any longer. Still, he did not stop his car, did not change his way, even when the built-in navigation device broke the silence between his sobs with an electronic-sounding “Welcome to West Virginia.”

Chapter Text

Everybody's got a hungry heart
Everybody's got a hungry heart
Lay down your money, and you play your part
Everybody's got a hungry heart

Only a few miles into West Virginia, it started to rain.

Despite everything, Kevin kept driving.

Despite everything, Kevin kept going, like he always did. He had always known that he was a coward at heart. But you need to be able to feel fear to keep pushing through. And despite his cowardice, Kevin had also always been a queen of perseverance.

Some miles after crossing the state border, his sobs started to ebb down. As soon as he was deep into West Virginia, he stopped crying altogether. There was an inherent discipline embedded in his bones that allowed him to completely take control of his body the closer he got to Evermore. It was a somewhat comforting feeling, how every mile brought him back to a strict regulation of his body. No matter how bad he felt, at least the tears dried on his face. Despite the increasingly more familiar-seeming street signs, he still didn’t fully comprehend where he was going or why he chose these streets, but at least the tears dried on his face.

He understood that going back to Evermore would not help him, but he felt the need to visit the court there anyway. The need to visit wasn’t an internal longing; rather, it felt like a magnet pulling Kevin’s body. An extrinsic force beckoning him closer. If Kevin had been stronger, he would have turned the car around. If Kevin had been braver, he may have tried to name the pain in his chest as desire, and maybe that would have weakened the pull to return. But what was there to desire if he had been enjoying a safe and stable life? He had always tried to do the right thing, played his part, and evidently this hadn’t helped him in finding what would fill the hole in his treacherous heart. In some way, he hoped his return to the place that had taught him to ignore every single desire apart from excelling on court could aid him in finding where he went so wrong that he had to break his wife’s heart on a Thursday afternoon.

All of a sudden, a motorcycle driver overtook Kevin at a speed way too fast for the rainy conditions. The unexpected movement made Kevin brake hard until he remembered that he was in the middle of a highway. For a moment, he realised that he wouldn’t really care if he happened to end up in a car accident right now; he just would have hated to be responsible for someone else’s accident. Luckily, no cars had been close enough to pose a risk.

The biker, already long gone, had reminded Kevin of Jean. Jean-Yves, who still loved driving this deadly vehicle around, even though Kevin had tried to discuss the incredibly scary statistics regarding motorcycle accidents with him more than once. Jean-Yves, who was now living the life he had chosen for himself, including not only a deep red BMW bike but, more importantly, a beautiful husband he wouldn’t leave like Kevin had left Thea, and a dog he loved despite always complaining about him. Jean-Yves, who had always carried so much desire in his broken-down body. For all that Kevin had accepted that he would never need to desire anything but exy, Jean, after all, had always desired more. Even during the worst days, even completely broken down, Jean most likely would have been able to describe the holes in his soul better than Kevin ever could.

Kevin remembered the day that Jean had told him that he desires life now, that he wanted to keep experiencing it in its fullness. His grey eyes had shone with something that a more romantic person could have described as a love for life. Kevin should have felt relieved; finally, a promise he had lived up to. Unfortunately for Kevin, that sentence had been embedded in a different conversation, one that he would never be able to forget. Kevin remembered the day that Jean had told him he would quit exy.

~ ~ ~

It had been a Saturday evening, following a narrow victory of the Bobcats against Jean’s Californian team, and it had been Thea who had invited Jean and a handful of teammates. So Kevin had been stuck in his own house, surrounded by people he couldn’t care less about and Jean. Kevin had felt lost, holding onto his champagne flute filled with real sparkling wine because even after all these years he couldn’t bring himself to explain to people why he was asking for alcohol-free options, and he just had known that there would have been no surviving this evening without holding onto some kind of glass. Jean had noticed, of course.

With a friendly but firm head shake, he had taken the glass out of Kevin’s hand to put it on some table around them before he had gently placed his hand on Kevin’s shoulder and pulled him to the side. There had been a certain flutter in Kevin’s stomach which he had tried to push back, but still, after all these years – or maybe especially after all these years, after everything that had happened – it excited him when Jean purposefully sought Kevin out in a crowd, took him aside, and talked to him and only him.

Jean’s French had been comforting, a soft lullaby, when he had started speaking: “Hey Kevin. Let’s talk for a moment, yeah?”

Kevin would have talked for him longer than just a moment, but he had simply nodded and had followed Jean down the hallway, the only place, despite Kevin and Thea’s shared bedroom, that hadn’t been filled with other exy players.

“I know that you have been looking forward to the Olympics this summer,” Jean had started the conversation, “but I want you to know that I won’t participate. I will retire before the summer comes.”

Every positive emotion about talking to Jean had shrivelled up in Kevin as soon as he had heard and processed these words. Jean had been right; Kevin had been excited for the Rio de Janeiro Games for years, especially because he had known that these would have most likely been the last Olympic Games they could attend. A lot of people around them had retired already or weren’t up to National Court Levels any longer, but Kevin had kept dreaming of at least Jean and Neil by his side in August.

“Are you sure?” Kevin had forced a smile on his face, but the thorns around his heart had pressed so deep, Kevin had been surprised his smile wasn’t covered in blood. Naturally, Jean had been able to see through Kevin’s fake smile in a heartbeat and had pressed his shoulder, which he still had been holding in encouragement.

“I am tired of being in pain after every game.”

“Well, have you tried changing physical therapists? Have you tried the new exercises that I sent you last month? And—”

“Kevin,” Jean had interrupted him with the softest voice. “It has been decided. I have talked to Jeremy about this at length. To my doctors, my trainers. Neil agrees as well. He has helped. We… We have informed the main family, and it is fine. We have found a solution.”

Kevin’s mind hadn’t been able to produce anything but a wave of a vague sense of betrayal. Of course Jean hadn’t cared about his actual opinion. Of course Jean and Neil had talked about it already. Of course they had already informed the Moriyamas. Of course Kevin would have been the last person to reach out to. Annoying, needy, opinionated Kevin, who would try and change his mind. So Kevin just had gone silent and Jean had watched his reaction with grieving eyes.

“Look, I know this is a disappointment to you. But I want to see more than just the court, do you understand? I am tired of getting up and dreading all the next steps in the day. I enjoy the good moments too much to let them go wasted in-between exy practices.”

Jean and his good moments. Jean had desires, and Jean had known what the next logical steps in his life would be. Another dog, probably. Studying literature, maybe. Spending more time with Jeremy for sure. Kevin wasn’t able to imagine that spending more time with Thea instead of the court could be fulfilling. If anything, he had wanted to go back on the court with his friends.

“I understand,” Kevin had mumbled despite not really understanding anything.

“You don’t have to understand,” Jean had replied, nearly in a whisper. The way he talked to Kevin right now, nearly shy and very secretive, had reminded Kevin of older times, but he had tried to push that thought process far away. Kevin hadn't wanted to think about a world in which he could seem intimidating to Jean, a potential bully around whom words needed to be chosen carefully. “I just want you to accept it. To accept these choices. And me.” Kevin had nodded. In some way, he had been grateful for how Jean had approached everything. For example, he hadn’t even tried to convince Kevin to maybe start thinking about his career end as well. And of course, there would never be a world in which he couldn’t accept Jean. There just had been such a pit of jealousy in his heart, jealousy for Jean’s support system, jealousy for Jean’s confidence in his choice, and jealousy because he had known that this, most likely, would have been the last time Kevin and Jean stepped foot on the same court and shared the only love language Kevin understood.

“I am happy, Kevin. My head hasn’t been on the court for a long time, and I am so grateful that I can finally start building a real future. I feel like that tin man who wanted to become a real boy, like in the stories you told me.”

“You are confusing your metaphors and stories. The tin man wanted a heart. Pinocchio wanted to become a real boy.” Kevin had been quick to correct Jean, and instead of annoyance, Jean just gave him a soft smile.

“My mistake. Let me be Pinocchio then and become a real boy, yes? And maybe you can go and find a real heart.”

“Oh shut up—” And Jean had shut up. Instead of continuing the discussion, he had stepped closer and engulfed Kevin in a hug. It had surprised him; they were not the hugging kind. But maybe they both had needed it.

“We will never play together again.” Kevin had mumbled against Jean’s chest and had been rewarded with a soft sigh.

“I know. I am sorry I cheated you out of the knowledge that the last game of the national team was the last time we shared a court like that. But I know you gave everything in that game anyway, so what does it matter?” It hadn’t mattered like that. What had mattered was that with Jean’s decision some dream of Kevin had been forced to fall apart. Riko had been insane for the intensity with which he had followed his fever dream of a Perfect Court, but Kevin had always had a weak spot for this idea. Nothing in his life had ever fulfilled him as much as playing for the national team with the people he cared most about. And now, year by year, month by month, they seemingly had started to leave him behind and move on to other places. One day, as Kevin had feared, only he would remain. Alone, full of desires he couldn’t even name. He had held Jean a bit closer, thankful when Jean had returned the hug.

When Jean had stepped away, it had been obvious how the talk had lifted some weight from his shoulders. Unfortunately, Kevin had felt like this weight had not disappeared from the world but rather had been put on his shoulders now. He had thought of Atlas. Someone had to carry the weight, always. And he had always wished the best for Jean, so he hadn’t minded carrying some of the burdens for him.

~ ~ ~

Ever since that horrendous talk in his hallway, Kevin had been counting down the days until the last time that Jean would step on a court. He was quite sure that Jean was doing the same thing, but for completely different reasons. Kevin stared into the rain. Another 25 days until the National Court would be named. Jean-Yves Moreau not one of them. Probably less than 30 days until he would announce his retirement.

Deep into West Virginia, the rain stopped, and Kevin got off the highway.

Chapter Text

I met her in a Kingstown bar
We fell in love, I knew it had to end
We took what we had, and we ripped it apart
Now here I am down in Kingstown again

Kevin’s eyes were burning from the effort of driving for over six hours without taking a break. He had been lucky that the car’s tank had been filled recently; he wasn’t sure if he would have managed to stop at a gas station without ruining his life any further. Had Kevin stopped, he most likely wouldn’t have been able to start moving again. Now that he was far enough from Baltimore, now that the pull of Evermore had slowly decreased and moved back into the dark corner of his heart where it belonged, a break was more tolerable.

The sun was setting as he rolled onto the big, empty parking lot. Kevin couldn’t tell exactly why his eyes felt so irritated: the tears, the tiredness, or the sight of Evermore Court rising up in front of him. The court looked dark; no evening training today, from the looks of it. It still seemed foreign to Kevin that nowadays there were days and hours during which this court was truly not inhibited. No nightly training hours, no dark rooms below the stadium. Then again, it would have seemed wrong to Kevin to see the court brightly alive with lights either. Sure, the court’s floodlights during game nights had been blazing, still were during the national team’s games, but in itself Evermore had never been filled with light. Everything had been dim, always.

Kevin stared at the dark building emerging into a gloomy orange-grey sky and wondered why, no matter what he did, every choice in his life seemed to lead him to this place again and again. He had felt similar distress when the Baltimore team had called his agent – and when he had agreed to move there. What was it about these places that felt like a leash on his collar, pulling him back every time he tried to walk away? Why was there still a collar of shame, a collar of need, attached to his neck anyway? Everyone around him seemed to have found a way to take off theirs. Just Kevin Day remained, bound to a place he would like to forget, bound to find himself in familiar darkness every time the court’s brilliant spotlights shut off.

He wanted to hate Evermore, but it wasn’t that easy. This place had taken away so much from him. Yet, it had also given him some blessings. It had always been too dark, too cold, and unwelcoming, but he had met both Thea and Jean here. Neil, too, in some way. His heart’s chains seemed to be irrevocably bound to everything he had endured in his years at the nest. Maybe this was why he was so clumsy with his love and attention. How was he supposed to adore the people that were links in a chain that still confined him? Still, there was no way he would lose these people willingly. For them, he would accept the painful sores of the restricting chains. There was something keeping his relationships alive and worth the pain; Kevin just feared that whatever this emotion was, it wasn’t enough to fill that gap in his soul. It evidently hadn’t been strong enough to keep him from following Evermore’s siren song.

Kevin understood that there was no one to blame for his weaknesses. Thea had done the best she could have under the circumstances provided. Jean had outpaced everyone. And Kevin had been captivated by him, by the willingness to have dreams and hopes in a place that had been so focused on destroying. Unfortunately, being captivated had not been enough. There had been no way to keep Jean safe and definitely nothing that had managed to mould Kevin into a person capable of giving the love others deserved. Yes, there had been tenderness, maybe even some devotion. But Kevin had no way of understanding if these things were enough to call it love. Maybe it had just been the desire to be wanted, outside of being Kevin Day, the exy player. Maybe he simply had wanted someone of his own, some kind of affection that wasn’t necessarily tainted by Riko’s preying eyes. Not that anything really had been safe from Riko’s attention.

In the end, Kevin had ripped apart whatever he and Jean had shared during their youth. In the end, it had been Kevin destroying everything. By playing a little bit too well, by leaving Jean, by following the path that destiny had laid out for him. He felt nauseous thinking about how he had ripped himself from this place, leaving Jean behind. But he hadn’t wanted to die in Evermore.

His yearning for life, any kind of life, had been stronger than whatever he had felt for Jean. Kevin didn’t think that he had really loved him or Thea. Not like he was supposed to. Not like a good friend should, and definitely not like a good husband would. He felt an odd aching of sorrow for the man he could have been. A man that could love and a man that in turn deserved to be loved. Jean had depended on him, and he had left him. Thea had put so much of her trust and vulnerability in Kevin’s hands when she had told him about her hopes about pregnancy, and still Kevin had done the same thing to her that he had done to Jean. An inconsiderate exit. He felt remorse for the way he had treated her, all of them. If he couldn’t bring himself to be someone who loved, why was he so greedy in taking that love from other people? If he couldn’t bring himself to love someone, no one else should love him either. This would only be fair. And therefore, leaving Thea was for the best. He cared for her, and he understood that she deserved someone who would be able to love her better than he did. Most likely, despite everything, she didn’t really love him either. They just had been so good together, fulfilling each other’s dreams, being in a comfortable place that had reminded them just enough of their shared past to be on the lazy side of comfortable. But after all had been said and done, she probably would be able to get over him quickly. Like she should, finding her future, while Kevin would be allowed to stay stuck in his past.

His thoughts felt like puzzle pieces clicking into their designated places. Maybe this was what he missed about his time in the nest. There, it had been acceptable to not love, to be egoistical, to be afraid. Kevin had spent many days feeling worthless and unloved, yes, but now that he had tasted the other option, he yearned for the predictability of being abandoned. There hadn’t been the constant worry of not being enough. There hadn’t been the ever-lingering fear of losing his friends. On the court, he was The Kevin Day, and with other people, he had to try so hard to be worthy of their commitment. Kevin lacked a place where he didn’t need to perform. He supposed that traditionally, a home, a safe relationship, should be that place, but he had tried, and that wasn’t where he could find it. So he had to settle for the alternatives. A rainy highway, an empty parking lot, the dark court, the even darker corridors within the nest, a grave.

Like an old friend, the nausea settled into his stomach and kept growing into his chest. Everything hurt: his eyes, his hand, his lower back. The hours of sitting behind the steering wheel started sneaking up on Kevin, so he forced himself to go through the next steps.

Kill the engine.

Unbuckle the seatbelt.

Open the door.

Get out of the car.

His back popped in multiple places as he stretched, taking in the oppressive scenery. The sun had set by now, and Evermore started to sink into the grey darkness of the approaching night. It could have been a beautiful building had there not been all the blood stains. Of course, they had been taken care of again and again, no speck of dried red remaining, but Kevin would have no trouble pointing at any stone within this building and naming someone who had bled on this part of the flooring.

Approaching Evermore from the public parking lot felt oddly wrong. Kevin couldn’t fully remember the last time he saw the court from this perspective, but he assumed it must have been with his mother. Athletes usually arrived via another parking area in the back so that they did not have to mix with the visitors, and even during training visits the back entrance would have been the one that got you to your locker rooms the easiest. But once upon a time, he had been a young boy who had been holding onto his mother’s hand while she had presented the first court of the US to her son. The memory of his mother’s care hits Kevin like a racket to the stomach.

In his mind, his mother’s and Thea’s hopeful eyes merge into the same picture. His beautiful, strong mother. His beautiful, strong wife. Had Kayleigh been full of hope when she had become a mother? Or had she been just as afraid as he was at the prospect of family? He wondered how she would have treated his despair, but he didn’t know. More and more often, he started to lose the thin thread of memory connecting him to his mother’s beliefs. He tried to brush it off; her opinions didn’t matter since she wasn’t here, he kept telling himself. Nothing mattered, because Kevin fully comprehended that he could never, ever be a father. He sensed that there was something wrong with his idea of love. He could not love like a father. Not like Aaron, not like his father. Not even like Jeremy cared for that stupid dog of his, or Andrew and Neil when they had told him about their cats’ latest vet visit. Kevin could never accept holding another being’s life in his hands; he was terrified of having to look after anything that was alive. Not because his mother hadn’t cared for him, not because he didn’t see how perfectly correctly everyone around him shared their love, but because he knew how effortlessly one could break living things. He knew how easy it was to leave someone behind in hell. He had done it before. Even Kayleigh had done it to him, and hadn’t she tried her very best?

The building was towering over Kevin like an unfulfilled promise as he stepped closer. Everything was the way it always had been. Imposing, dark, but very well kept. To Kevin’s surprise, his eyes caught onto a single place within the emerging night that still seemed to cling onto daylight, a spark of colour in front of the bleak wall. Mostly red and white, but colour nevertheless. Despite feeling more than just a little unsettled by the wrongness of the colours, he stepped closer. He knew what he should expect, and yet the sight sent another wave of nausea through his body: of course fans would leave a memorial. It must have been cleaned regularly; none of the pictures were washed out beyond recognition, and most of the flowers lying around didn’t seem older than a day. There had been candles too, but it seemed like the earlier rain had killed them.

Defying the voice of reason in the back of his head, Kevin breached the last metres between him and the memorial site. Surprisingly, he found himself amused by the display. On the one hand, it was impressive that there is still an active memorial site after nearly a decade. On the other hand, it was quite a disappointing memorial site. Kevin knew that Riko would have hated being reduced to a handful of flowers, three drowned candles, and cheap printer pictures. Then again, this was more than most people would get. More than Seth got back in Palmetto for sure. Carefully, Kevin knelt down and reached out to take a closer look at one of the pictures. It showed the both of them, shoulder to shoulder, smiling into a camera. There was no happiness behind their smiles; even on the washed-out print, Kevin could see the cold behind Riko’s and the emptiness behind his eyes.

Kevin’s dead green eyes stared back at him, and all at once Kevin felt like he was back at the nest, trying his best to please Riko. There had never been any doubt that he felt something towards Riko, and for so long Kevin had been terrified of the prospect that maybe he was incapable of love because he had spent all of his on Riko. It had been years since he last had these kinds of thoughts. Kevin kept struggling every day, but he had thought that he had left this specific worry behind, yet now that fear kept rearing its ugly head. He tried to argue with himself, tried to remember all the expensive therapy sessions. Yes, he had cared for Riko for a long time. But not like he had cared for others. Not like he should have cared, either. The picture in his hands was calling out his lies.

Riko’s dark, cruel eyes stared back at him, and all at once Kevin felt like he was back at the nest, trying to find a way out. It was that emotion of complete despair that really scared him. He could live questioning his ability to love and his complicated relationship with Riko; he had been doing this for most of his life, but this was something else. Suddenly, he was overcome with the urge to change everything, no matter the cost. Suddenly, he was so jealous of Riko, who had died in his prime. Riko, who had been such a terrible brother, and yet people kept mourning him. Kevin knelt next to the sad memorial and realised with a bitter taste in his mouth that he was jealous that Riko had gotten the easy way out. Kevin knelt next to the dying flowers and realised with a surge of panic that he wanted to die as well. Maybe his death would make everything right, and maybe it would help everyone else get better too. Kevin wanted his own memorial; he wanted flowers and letters and burnt-down candles. More than anything, Kevin wanted to be free of this place and the part of his heart that is still stuck beneath Evermore. Kevin wanted to be free of everything that still bound him to his suffering. Kevin wanted to get rid of that fucking leash holding him back, and if that meant hanging himself with that very same leash, he would be willing to try. He understood that running away from his home and his wife and the potential of having a family was only the first step. He got up, looked around. His car is the only one in the parking lot; he could simply—.

Terrified by his own thought process and the prospect of what these thoughts may make him commit to, Kevin turned around quickly. Panicked, he tried to leave the flowers, the washed-out pictures, and the ever-impending doom inhibiting the court’s dark walls behind. He all but ran back to his car, throwing the door closed, as if this would be enough to keep his demons at bay. In the faint light of his car’s internal driving light, Kevin tried to get his breathing back under control. He yearned for a bottle of vodka and hazel eyes watching him gulp it down. He yearned for the feeling of home and his mother’s sweet perfume. He yearned for a hand around his throat and one around his waist. He yearned for death, and he yearned for life.

Kevin sat in front of Evermore Court, staring up at a darkening sky, like a chained dog begging his owner to return, to finally free him or at least give him a duty to perform. Kevin sat in front of Evermore Court, and in a sudden surge of terror and despair, he pushed open his car door again. He didn’t even manage to get out of his seat before he threw up in the parking lot.

Chapter Text

Everybody's got a hungry heart
Everybody's got a hungry heart
Lay down your money, and you play your part
Everybody's got a hungry heart

Kevin kept throwing up for an impressive amount of time, considering he hadn’t eaten since lunch. Only when his stomach hadn't been able to share anything more with the world, he heaved himself back into the car, closed the door, and started the engine. He didn’t allow himself any second of hesitation, lest he should decide to stay here and follow different ideas of getting away from this life. There was no time to think, so he chose to drive further south.

Kevin’s little excursion to Evermore and the subsequent breakdown had broken the soothing routine of just driving to get away, and now the non-silence of the car — the soft rattling of the vehicle’s body, the rhythmic song of the wheels on the asphalt, the clicking of the indicator from time to time — felt oppressive. After roughly half an hour on the highway, Kevin felt like he could sense a ghost dressed in black and red in the backseat, and after another few minutes, he was worried about the shadows haunting the periphery of his vision. Desperate for distraction, he reached to turn on the radio.

There had been no music at the nest, and even though afterwards he had been surrounded by people who tried their best to introduce him to a frankly overwhelming amount of music genres, Kevin usually did not listen to music on his own. And now that he looked for music, the first radio station his car settled on wasn’t even playing a song at the moment. Annoyed by the raspy voice of the first radio station’s broadcaster, he settled on the second station that his car’s radio provided him with. It currently played a song Kevin had never heard before, but it wasn’t too bad. Of course, however, it was a love song. Kevin knew that as long as he was on this planet, he would always be bombarded with the idea of love. At least the singer did not seem to have the best time either. The song reminded him of Aaron and his beloved MP3 player he used to carry around in university; Aaron would have never been caught dead without a possibility to listen to music. At least back at Palmetto. It wasn’t exactly like Kevin knew a lot about Aaron’s current life. But back then, he had been a well of music-related knowledge. Aaron, most likely, would have been able to present a perfectly curated playlist for Kevin’s exact mood at this moment. But of course, Kevin had never actually engaged with Aaron and his obsession with music. Another regret to be put on the pile.

Just as Kevin had got used to the song, another one started playing. This one was way more upbeat and seemed to only consist of three chords. To his great dismay, Kevin did not have any other ways to play music. His phone was safely stored in his team’s duffel bag, which itself was lying in the hallway in his Baltimore apartment, and he had never invested in something like CDs for driving.

And of course, this made him think of Andrew. Although not as heavily engaged with different artists, genres, and whatsoever as his brother, Andrew had been very particular about the music playing in his car, had a carefully chosen collection of radio stations saved, and had CDs for music-related emergencies. Andrew could have helped right now. Kevin wished he could just talk to him. Not that Kevin really felt like talking in this very moment, and not that Andrew had ever felt like talking. So, technically, Kevin wished he could just sit next to Andrew right now, but he didn’t even know if this would still be a thing that Andrew would do for him.

This thought tasted both bitter and honeyed. Kevin would never admit this out loud, but he was impressed with the quiet healing process that Andrew had gone through in the last ten years. Andrew was still Andrew, was still that abrasive, closed-off, stubborn man that Kevin had learnt to… feel something for, for sure. But there had been a certain tenderness growing in Andrew’s eyes, and the first time Kevin had seen it, he had been so relieved. Kevin would never say this to Andrew; there were no words to describe their relationship and the odd fondness they sometimes shared, but every so often he thought about how it would feel to share his thoughts. Not that it mattered, since their friendship was still so fragile. There still had been so many phone calls with Andrew just hanging up on Kevin. Birthday wishes, read but not responded to. Kevin feared that this too was his fault, especially because things had gotten worse lately. As his facade of a good life kept crumbling and he was searching for his hopes and desires in the ruins, Andrew had kept growing, and now there wasn’t enough middle ground to operate on. Kevin was simply not an easy person to share a friendship with, especially not one as delicate as Andrew’s.

They had been getting along just fine, like they always had, but in the last three years the foundation of their friendship had been crumbling, and Kevin feared they would never be able to recover from their recent bigger fights. First, Kevin’s famous move back to the Baltimore exy team. Many people had quietly shared their worries about how this could impact Kevin, but Andrew had just called him an “ill-advised coward crawling back to the gutter he just had emerged from” and then promised to never visit. And Andrew kept his promises. Second, Andrew’s retirement from the sport two years ago, way too early. Back then, Kevin had not been able to react with the pretence of grace that he had brought forward in the conversation with Jean (or Jeremy, or Matt, or Thea, or so many other teammates), and the conversation had spiralled nearly as quickly as Kevin’s masquerade of mental stability. It had been such a waste of talent, but Andrew had not been able to join Neil’s team for too long, and that had been enough to make him quit in the end. Even now, Kevin saw this decision as the first arch collapsing in his dream house of playing exy and being content with everything else. Andrew was the first, but quite quickly more and more people surrounding Kevin made similar decisions. Everyone seemed to be moving on from exy. Everyone seemed to find better places. Everyone, but Kevin, of course. He was only Kevin Day as long as they let him play exy. And in turn, he had projected his fear very ruthlessly onto Andrew, resulting in a spiteful fight. They hadn’t talked with each other for months. And then, third, the marriage, of course.

~ ~ ~

Technically, Kevin had only needed to make a connecting flight in Chicago, but after he had mentioned that to Neil in one of his text messages, Neil had been very eager to invite Kevin to his and Andrew’s apartment in the city: “Just for a night or two.” Kevin had agreed to spend the weekend, flying in on a Friday evening after a game in Florida and leaving on Sunday evening to attend an exy conference in Vancouver. He hadn’t been very eager to agree; it put a lot more time pressure on him, but Neil had been as close to begging as possible for him. Which had been somewhat fair, Kevin assumed, based on the fact that he had kept rejecting inventions. There had always been a reason to not travel the 700 miles between Chicago and Baltimore. Training, a game, more training, a bad night, Thea’s plans, a medical check-up, another extra training session.

But then Kevin had been sitting on their surprisingly comfortable, dark blue couch, where he had been fighting one of their cats (the fatter, fluffier one) because that beast had been extremely interested in sniffing his glass of some alcohol-free concoction given to him by Andrew. Neil had been sitting next to him, commenting an exy game was running on the TV, while Andrew had been off, preparing some more food and drinks in the kitchen.

They both had seemed so content it had made Kevin’s stomach twist. The first time he had seen how easily they smiled at each other, he had nearly doubled over with nausea. There had always been a nonchalant ease merged into their relationship. But during all the years at Palmetto, and enough following years as well, Kevin had felt included, had easily found a comfortable place in the outskirts of their gravity fields. They had been two celestial bodies dancing with each other, but their shared force had been strong enough to keep Kevin close and protected as well.

But there had been the last four years, and things had changed. And suddenly, Kevin had felt like an outsider to their relationship. There had still been that familiar gravitational push-and-pull between Neil and Andrew, but suddenly their intricate dance had not included Kevin any longer. He had felt it the second he had stepped into their apartment for the first time since they had moved there. How, suddenly, Kevin had been a stranger to their relationship. How there had been a distance that he hadn’t known how to bridge. Maybe they too had finally felt how rotten Kevin had been inside at this point. Compared to them, Kevin always had been given the easy hand in life. Sure, his youth hadn’t been great, but compared to theirs, it had been great. They had walked through hell while Kevin had had exy, and basic care, certain boundaries never crossed, and people who had cared. And despite these circumstances, they had managed to build themselves a life. A life which may not have represented the normalcy which Thea and Kevin had portrayed but which had been coined by healing and a sense of comfort and happiness. Coined by love — coined by a love Kevin would never be part of.

Andrew came back with a new mysterious drink in hand, which he offered wordlessly to Kevin. He had probably been able to tell that Kevin hadn’t enjoyed the overly sweet mocktail he had been offered the first time. This time, in exchanging the two full glasses, Kevin looked at Andrew’s hand to make sure he wouldn’t spill anything. His eyes caught onto a simple golden ring on Andrew’s left ring finger. Usually he hadn’t paid attention to the jewellery, but this one wasn’t Andrew’s typical silver ring. Just a golden band. Not unlike the one Kevin himself was wearing off the exy court, although he had chosen the untraditional right hand.

“A wedding band? Weird choice. Did you steal it off a guy in a club?” Kevin had commented. When he had looked up, Andrew had just given him one of his trademark flat stares. The one he chose when you had done something that Andrew deemed too stupid to react to.

“What—” Kevin stared up into the hazel eyes that hadn’t looked at him with any kind of warmth since he had entered the apartment an hour earlier. With a hammering heart, he had turned his head towards Neil, first checking out his long, strong fingers. No ring. Then he had looked up. Neil had worn an expression akin to guilt. It was rare to see him like that, especially these days, like he actually tasted regret on his tongue.

“I am not wearing it; it gets in the way with exy training and the gym and stuff. And then I can’t get used to it, feels odd on my fingers,” he had explained, his voice forcefully calm. Kevin had found no words for a second and had just stared at his own wedding ring.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” His voice had sounded raspy, full of simmering discomfort. The second the fact had sunk in, irritation had settled in as well. Sure, people weren’t telling Kevin about a lot of things these days. But he had thought they were friends, or something comparable. Maybe even something stronger. Once upon a time, they definitely had been. Or so Kevin had pretended.

“Well, we would have told you if your majesty had been bothered to visit us.” Andrew’s voice had been so, so even. Kevin had known how to read it, had felt the annoyance radiating from Andrew. There had been a time when his whole life had depended on being able to tell if someone around him grew irritated. The fat cat, too, had read the situation correctly and quickly fled the room. Neil had looked after her, evidently also yearning to just leave.

“Andrew—” Neil had tried to interject, but it had been too late to stop the avalanche. Kevin and Andrew had already picked up on each other’s quiet frustration, and neither would have backed down at this point.

“So that excuses not even inviting me to your wedding? I would have come had I known!” Being freed from the cat had allowed Kevin to stand up. He had a lot of experience with fighting, and he would not sit while Andrew was standing.

“Oh, Kevin Day. I do not need to bribe you into visiting me with a wedding ceremony if you do not want to see me.”

“I wouldn’t have been bribed… I wanted… You fucking arsehole. You were invited to mine.” Kevin had realised that by now he was grasping for words. He had always hated feeling like this. Kevin had never been a quiet, restrained man, but he had learnt to either solve issues by fists or by proving himself to be better. Andrew — Andrew and Riko for all that it was worth — had always been able to make Kevin feel stupid in an argument, to make him stutter, to make him feel helpless. He had always hated it, and he had hated it even more in this moment, as a full-grown adult man fighting a former teammate over wedding attendance.

Andrew had scoffed. “Me and everyone else who had ever seen an exy ball. Your wedding meant nothing to me.”

“Fuck you,” Kevin had stammered, feeling a blush creep up on his face. For some reason, Andrew’s words had hurt more than expected, and he couldn’t recover fast enough. “I would have visited had I known—”

“But you didn’t visit. You never visited. You were not around, and we were not going to wait for you.”

“Don’t be unfair. You know how it is, and you never visited either, and with Baltimore being so far…” Kevin should had known that bringing up this topic, pressing on that old bruise hadn’t helped. He had seen in it Andrew’s face; he had seen the exact second Andrew decided to shut down.

Fighting with Andrew was difficult and painful. He always had been able to put his fingers in the wounds you hadn’t wanted him to find. He had always been somewhat cruel in his anger, heartless in his brutal honesty. But Kevin had always preferred the fights over the alternative: Andrew just deciding that you weren’t worth his time any more. And just then, Andrew had definitely decided that.

“You, and Baltimore, and your precious exy. We wouldn’t want to get in-between that, would we?” Andrew had put both drinks on the table, forcefully enough for them to threaten to spill, before he had simply turned away and walked out of the room. On his way he had turned off the TV, letting his pettiness win, and leaving Kevin and Neil alone in a silent living room without any distractions.

Neil had not said that he was sorry, but he had looked at Kevin again with guilty eyes, as if his conscience had just caught up with him. “For all that matters, we really did not celebrate or anything,” he had tried to explain.

Kevin’s answer had been harsh, maybe even petty in itself: “You were my best men.”

“Illinois law does not require witnesses for a marriage to be legally valid.”

“So it was truly just the two of you?”

Neil evidently had preferred to not answer, judging by the way his eyes scanned the room for a moment, as if to look for a quick exit or distraction, but then he had given in: “Well, Aaron was there.”

Kevin should have been happy for Aaron, but it just had made him more irritated. Surely, Andrew and Aaron had not grown that close in the last few years, despite living somewhat close to each other. So it had been Andrew’s deliberate decision to exclude Kevin. Kevin had stared at his own hands, one scarred, one adorned by his own wedding ring, and had tried to swallow the bile of betrayal. Maybe everything he had feared about himself was true. Andrew had finally seen how disgusting Kevin actually was and what a chore it had been to keep him around for the last years. Maybe, he had seen what Kevin had known all along: that Kevin Day was to be adored, to be cheered at and loved by the crowds, but that the person behind that persona was irrevocably unlovable.

He hadn’t been proud of his reaction, but he had not been able to sit with Neil any longer. Not with Andrew brooding in the bedroom next door, his resentment seeping through the doors and into the living room. Not with Neil looking at him, both full of remorse and with a hint of confusion.

“I’ll find a hotel room in the area,” Kevin had mumbled. And Neil had not tried to stop him, despite his sad eyes.

So Kevin had done that. Picked up his bags, which still had been waiting in the hallway. Put on his shoes. If his hands had shaken so much that it had taken him an extra minute to tie the shoelaces, Neil hadn’t commented on it. And if he had picked up a bottle of vodka on the way to the hotel, breaking his until then longest streak of sobriety, no one would have known.

~ ~ ~

This had been the last time he had visited them. They had barely kept in touch for the last few months, although Neil kept updating Kevin, and Kevin kept giving Neil feedback on his games. But Andrew had slipped through his fingers. Kevin tried to pretend that this was okay, that Andrew had never been his to keep anyway, but it kept hurting. And now he missed him. He wondered if any of them would still come if he called for them but was relieved that he couldn’t put this to the test. His phone, left in Baltimore, saved him from the shame of having been left behind.

It was easier to be the one who left. Kevin had always been good at running away, right? The thought was accompanied with a wave of guilt. The radio switched songs as Kevin pressed his left hand in front of his mouth, dry heaving for a second. He could get used to being lonely. He just wanted everyone else to be fine at least. Maybe no one would come and help him any more, and maybe that had been his fault. But Kevin had seen Neil and Andrew being happy in Chicago, so at least they were doing well. Jean had even outright told him that he was doing better now.

The tank symbol of his car blinked up orange, and he groaned but started looking for the next gas station. He could ask for a phone there and reach out to someone who would not let him die. He could buy alcohol and go down in history as a suicidal drunk driver. He could fuel up and then go back to Baltimore. He could fuel up and go back to Evermore and sit by the memorial. Or he could fuel up and keep driving.

Kevin hadn’t made his decision yet when he rolled up to a gas station lit in bright green and white neon lights.

Chapter Text

Everybody needs a place to rest
Everybody wants to have a home
Don't make no difference what nobody says
Ain't nobody like to be alone, well

The neon lights hurt his eyes as Kevin got out of his car. The layout of the gas station seemed sickeningly familiar, like the ghost in the shadow of his mind, but Kevin had seen many gas stations in his life. He took a piss first, then fuelled up his car — thankfully, he had taken his wallet with him when he had left — before entering the adjacent shop. It was even brighter in there, the harsh lights burning into his brain and liquidising every thought until only the urge to go home remained. Unfortunately for Kevin, he had no idea where home had ever been. He forced himself to keep moving and bought a cheap, probably burnt coffee, but as he got to the cashier, his eyes kept getting stuck onto the shimmering alcohol bottles behind the counter.

His last relapse had only been three months ago, so really, he wouldn’t lose much progress, would he? Just once more. Getting blackout drunk would feel so good today. He just needed to forget the world for one more day, and then tomorrow he could pick himself up again and go back to Baltimore. Just one more night spent so drunk he wouldn’t have to worry about desire, love, and the never-ending longing to go home. Kevin had already set his eyes on a bottle of Absolut vodka as the gas station attendant greeted him with a way-too-bright smile for this hour of the night: “Hey bro, just the coffee?”

Kevin’s battered world was screeching to a halt. Why would anyone address him as ‘bro’? He was the Kevin Day. He was a thirty-year-old man. He was a loser. He was an award-winning international sports star.

“What.” He stared at the man in front of him. The man was probably a few years younger than Kevin but seemed somewhat quite mature. Apart from the bro-language, of course.

“Just the coffee? Late night, huh?” The man’s voice sounded genuinely cheerful. As if he was actually enjoying working late nights at a gas station in some lived-down place in Virginia.

“Yeah. Something like that.”

“Tough life, bro, don’t I know it. You should try some of these sour candies. For safety. The sugar and sour taste will keep you awake on the road. I used to live off of them after we had our baby boy.” He pointed towards a bright yellow bag of some sort of sour candy. Entirely overwhelmed by the situation, Kevin just nodded. The attendant smiled even more brightly and handed the bag to Kevin.

“There you go, my man. Enjoy. It is on the house; you look like you need it.”

“Thanks,” Kevin mumbled and took the bag as well as his coffee. Without any further words, he left the gas station. A better man would have probably tried to do some small talk and would have asked after the aforementioned ‘baby boy’. But Kevin was too exhausted to try and pretend he was a good man. Back in his car, he just sat there, staring at the offensively yellow bag in his hand. He even opened it, tried one, and hated it instantly. Whatever this devil’s food was, it was painfully sour yet sticky-sweet on his teeth. A horrendous combination that should be forbidden. He threw the bag on the passenger seat and went back to the safe choice of slightly burnt, very bitter coffee.

Kevin was so tired. Of everything, but also very literally. He had been driving for well over seven hours at this point, and he knew that it would be the safest option to just stop. If he were to stop for the night, he could even get himself a drink without ending up on the front page news as a warning for future drunk drivers. His life was already bad enough; that would just be a bit too embarrassing and probably cost him too many brand deals. Except, of course, if he actually managed to die. Kevin thought that would be quite poetic. Dying in the same way that his mother did. Last year, it had been 20 years since her death. He had spent that day with his father, sitting on the couch, watching VHS tapes of old exy games. Despite everything, it had been a good day. Kevin hadn’t felt alone on that specific day, the grief and Wymack’s gruff commentary building a cosy cocoon around him.

Kayleigh had died at the height of her career as the inventor of exy, just when it started to take off and people actually realised the impact of it. Similarly, Riko had died at the height of his career, regardless of all the rumours before and especially afterwards. Considering his age, Kevin feared that he was too old and well-used to die and still be properly celebrated. He wished the memorial in Evermore would have been for him and Riko. At least the nest had been a place to stay, a place that held him tight, even though there had been no love in the embrace. He buried his head in his hands, trying to rest his burning eyes, but there was no peace to be found. Maybe no one would miss him if he just disappeared tonight, like he had stopped missing Riko. Like, sometimes, he even stopped missing his mother.

The mix of bad coffee and sour candy burnt his irritated oesophagus, and he rubbed his throat. Everything was so uncomfortable. He just wanted to go home. He probably didn’t even want to die. Just to rest somewhere, to crash in a safe place. Like when he spent his mother’s death anniversary on Wymack’s couch, holding onto a cup of Irish tea that Abby had bought just for him, in an attempt to find some non-alcoholic beverage that made him feel comforted.

Kevin groaned, realising that he would not be able to keep telling himself these lies of an unnamed yearning. Had there really been a moment where he had believed that he was driving without any aim? There were so many streets in the US, but of course he had been moving south from Evermore. Kevin started his car again. He had survived the night so far. Another three to four hours wouldn’t kill him. And if they did, at least close to Palmetto. So he kept driving south.

He kept the car radio turned off for the remaining miles, just focused on losing neither his mind nor the control over the car. When the navigation device announced him crossing the state border to South Carolina, Kevin felt his eyes burn with not only exhaustion but also tears. He just wanted to be home; he felt like a child yearning for his parents’ embrace. When he finally found his way to Abby’s house—now technically Abby’s and Wymack’s house—he could barely see through the tears he tried to hold back. Kevin was lucky that it was past four a.m. and there was virtually no traffic in the suburban area he drove through. Kevin stopped the car in front of the house and allowed himself to cry into his arms, still sitting behind the steering wheel, not even with the seatbelt unbuckled. He couldn’t go up to the house now anyway; he didn’t want to wake them in the middle of the night. There was no way he would put them into more unnecessary stress by ringing the doorbell at four in the morning.

Not a minute had passed, and Kevin was still crying as he felt light falling through his car’s windows. He lifted his head to see the house’s front door being opened, a tall shadow standing in the light. Frantically, Kevin tried to wipe away his tears before grabbing the sweets off the passenger seat and getting out of his car. He stared at the familiar figure in the doorway, and the figure stared back, mirroring his tense, nearly anxious stance.

“Kevin? Good. I was worried it would be the police.”

Kevin pressed his hands into his teary eyes, feeling the age-old shame well up in him again. So he had stressed his father out already; Wymack must have been waiting at a window facing the street, considering how quickly he had opened the door.

“You can have your breakdown inside. It is fucking cold.”

“Did you wait up for me?” Kevin was shocked by how pitiful his voice sounded, how completely broken-down.

“Thea called as soon as she realised you had left your phone at your place. Which was extremely dumb, by the way. And now come in. My bones are too old to wait in the cold.”

To his enormous embarrassment, Kevin sniffed before he managed to force his feet to work and carry him towards his father. Tears made his eyelashes stick together as he finally found himself on the doorstep. Helplessly, he looked up at Wymack and then opened his arms, just a little bit, the movement trenched in embarrassment and hesitation.

“Oh, Kevin,” Wymack sighed and stepped forward, embracing his son in a hug. Kevin’s hands flew up, clawing at his father’s back and pulling him even closer.

They stood in the doorframe for a small eternity while Kevin just allowed himself to keep crying on his father’s shoulder. He felt so disgusted by the way he was literally grasping for love. Holding this hug as if it were the only thing keeping Kevin upright. Wasn’t the whole point that he didn’t want any love, couldn’t feel any love? At least not like he was supposed to. But despite this, Kevin did not want to be alone, he did not want to be left behind, and he did not want to be deemed unlovable. And like a tidal wave, Kevin realised that he did not want to die; he just wanted to stay in his father’s arms a little bit longer. It reminded him of how life had felt as a young child, when he was still with his mother. No matter what had happened, back then he had been so convinced that his mother would be able to fix everything for him. Suddenly, he felt somewhat similar in regard to Wymack. If anyone would be able to fix the case of the failure of Kevin Day, it would be David Wymack. If anyone would be able to love Kevin despite all his flaws, it would be his father. If anyone would be able to hold Kevin while he fell apart, it would be his dad.

At some point, Wymack finally pulled him into the house and closed the door. When Kevin looked up, his eyes caught on Abby standing in the door to the kitchen. She looked so old suddenly, the shadows of the early morning etching her face into that of an old woman.

“I am sorry,” Kevin mumbled, but she just gave him a dismissing hand wave and took a good look at him, the careful inspection of a nurse checking out a new patient.

“No injuries?” she asked him softly, no judgement in her voice. Kevin shook his head, and she smiled encouragingly before giving him a soft nod and retreating back into the other room. Of course, she had sensed his vulnerability and unwillingness to be perceived in this moment. And of course, she had respected it as well, making sure he felt comfortable in her house.

“Come on, son. Let’s take you to bed, okay? You fucking idiot must have been driving for eight, nine hours at least to make this trip.” Wymack softly guided Kevin into the guest room that he was so familiar with. Now, in his father’s arms, Kevin was overtaken with a bone-deep tiredness, and he stumbled along the way.

“More like twelve,” he quietly admitted. “I drove through West Virginia first.”

“You absolute moron.” Wymack pulled him into a second hug, this one so tight it nearly hurt. Kevin felt surprisingly seen, as if his father had picked up on all of his suicidal thoughts simply based on the one sentence. As if his father understood how close he had come to losing his troublesome son.

“I’m sorry, I am so sorry—” Kevin started to cry again as soon as he tried to apologise. He felt sorry for so many things. Being a bad husband, a bad friend, and probably a horrendous son. Making his old father wait by the window for hours. Had Wymack really been worried about the police visiting him this night? Kevin had lost his mother in a car accident; he fully understood in what kind of situations the cops would knock on your door. Kevin felt sorry for everything, for not loving correctly, for not healing correctly, and for still being haunted by his past and making everyone else miserable in the meantime.

“Don’t apologise. Here. Lay down.” Wymack all but pushed Kevin onto the guest bed. He also took the bright yellow bag of sweets from him, which Kevin had been holding onto for a reason he couldn’t fully name. Did the gas station attendant understand that he may have saved Kevin’s life earlier this night? Had the girl who had helped him at the gas station over ten years ago understood this? Did his father know…? The thoughts threatened to become overwhelming more quickly than Kevin could push them down. There was only one thing that could help him now, he was sure.

“I need a drink,” Kevin sniffled, but Wymack just softly whacked the back of his son’s head before offering him a blanket.

“Nearly four years of sobriety, and you treat it like that?”

And here it was. Another regret, another failure, another reason to dislike Kevin. “Three months,” he admitted, shame staining the two words.

Wymack, for all that it was worth, did not judge Kevin outwardly, did not even ask any further questions, just started petting Kevin’s hair. If Kevin had known any better, he could have read Wymack’s attention as awkward, nearly helpless. He wanted to understand these actions like that. But Kevin should know better. His father probably hated having to take care of his thirty-year-old son crying in his guest room. Being Kevin’s father must have been exasperating at best.

“You should sleep, Kevin. We can talk tomorrow. Nothing is unfixable right now.”

A lot of things felt unfixable to Kevin. The broken parts in his brain that made it impossible for him to work like a normal human being. His deteriorating relationships. His stupid longing for alcohol, and his mother, and exy, and his death, and Riko. His stupid longing to be home, although this feeling had started to recede now that he was crying in Abby’s guest room. But he didn’t have it in him to discuss his infinite list of issues with his father so late at night. Wymack was right; he should sleep. Everything still hurt from the overexertion of driving for way too long. He just wanted to rest for a little bit, and then he could leave again.

The bed dipped when Wymack sat on the edge of it, still quietly playing with Kevin’s hair. The way you would treat a child or a beloved pet. He did not say anything more, maybe hoping to lure his son into sleep like that. It worked.

~*~

Kevin woke up ten years in the past. At least that’s what it felt like when he opened his sore eyes. The sun was standing high in the sky, shining on his face through the open window, and Andrew was sitting next to the bed, typing on his phone with a bag of sweets on his lap.

For a moment, Kevin just felt safe. The smell of Abby’s laundry detergent stuck to the blanket he was covered in, the light-flooded room was familiar, and Andrew would protect him. Then he actually woke up. Unfortunately for Kevin, the years had taught him a lot, but not how to wake up quickly, so he just grumbled something unintelligible even for him and fought with the heavy blanket for a second.

Andrew lifted his gaze from his phone and put it on the side table. “The queen has risen, it seems,” he announced in his state-of-the-art bored tone.

Now that Kevin had managed to force his eyes to stay open and actually take in the appearance of his former teammate waiting next to his bed, he saw how incredibly tired Andrew looked. His blonde hair was slightly greasy and messy, highlighting his receding hairline, and the hazel eyes behind his glasses—which he only wore when he really needed them or had a headache—were tired, adorned by dark circles. He was wearing bleached-out black joggers and an oversized hoodie with an unreadable band name. The wedding band on his left hand, no other jewellery.

It was Andrew’s definitely less than well-put-together presentation that helped Kevin finally find some words: “Why are you here?”

“Yesterday afternoon, you had somewhat of a breakdown, I’ve heard—”

“No, why are you here?” Kevin reiterated, already growing frustrated again.

“Thea texted Jean as soon as you left, who called Neil, who told me. And then, like twenty minutes later, your beloved father called us as well. It was a busy day, one would say.”

Kevin stared wordlessly at Andrew. He was tired, but he wasn’t stupid; he understood the implications behind these words: a lot of people had grown worried quite quickly and had tried to reach out to him to find him.

“Where is Neil?”

“Training back home. He asked me to tell you that you are an idiot, though.”

“Coach already told me.”

“So I suspected.”

Silence settled in the guest room, but it didn’t feel oppressive. It felt normal. Andrew and Kevin had spent many, many hours in silence. And right now, it felt like it always had. Casual, like there was simply nothing of importance to say. The only noise was Andrew munching on the horrendous sour candy that he must have stolen from Kevin’s side table. No complaints here.

Kevin awkwardly cleared his throat: “So… You took a flight down this morning?”

“Took the car,” Andrew stated carelessly, as if it wouldn’t take more than half a day of uninterrupted driving to get from Chicago to the house they were in right now. “First expected to only have to pick you up in Baltimore, and then just… drove.” He took a long look at Kevin. “Drove via Indiana to get to West Virginia if necessary. I was just taking a break there when Coach called to say that you had turned up at his door yet again.”

“Sorry,” Kevin found himself mumbling, somewhat half-heartedly. He knew that Andrew wasn’t fond of apologies.

“I am here now.” And Kevin supposed that was very true. Andrew was here now.

After some more minutes of silence, Kevin forced himself to admit what he really didn’t want to say. He understood that this would change his life and throw him back into the uncertainty he hated so much: “I don’t know what to do, but I don’t really want to go back to Baltimore.”

“Hear the angels sing.” Andrew gave him an amused look, if one could call any look on his face amused.

“Are you not going to judge me?”

“What’s the point in that? I don’t believe in regret, and it is not my fault that you are worshipping this wretched emotion.”

The sentence was so Andrew-like that Kevin couldn’t help but smile for a moment. It felt good to be surrounded by Andrew just being himself. It felt safe. It felt right. It made the pain in his chest settle into a bearable, slight ache. Kevin smiled and watched Andrew absolutely devour the pack of the sour candy, questioning how his throat and stomach would be able to survive the onslaught of acidity and sugar.

“Do you want to share your deep-rooted issues that made you leave your wife with the class?” Andrew asked after some minutes. The candy had stained his lips in a slight blue hue. He looked so human.

“I think I need to leave Thea.” Kevin himself was surprised by the way the words stumbled out of his mouth. He hadn’t had that thought before, but the sentence had apparently just waited on his tongue to be spoken. Andrew’s humanity had always managed to coax shocking truths out of Kevin. Kevin shuddered in panic. “It is not her fault. She is so good. She is trying to help. And I like her; I really do. And I don’t want her to hate me. But there is something missing. Something I can’t give her. She deserves something better. Someone better, I guess. And I think she wants a real family.”

Andrew hummed. “And what do you want?”

The question startled a hysterical laugh from Kevin. Kevin, who had spent the last 24 hours experiencing one of his worst breakdowns because he had no clue how to answer that question. Kevin, who had realised that his time in the nest had cut out the part of his soul that was responsible for understanding his desires but had unfortunately left the part that could feel desire. Kevin, who just had wanted to go home, and now finally felt at home, in a house that was very famously not his own, with a man that was just as famously not his own. Kevin tried to push his demons down where they belonged and tried not to think about how apparently he was starting to learn what he had been missing in Baltimore; a missing piece that would soon be gone. He fought this flashing of fear and simply refused to answer.

“Stop seeing yourself as prey; it is starting to get more than irritating,” Andrew finally said, as it became clear that Kevin wouldn’t answer. “You will not die; you don’t need to continue to suffer just because you seek familiarity and normality.”

“I don’t want to be alone. I’d rather die—“

“Stop.” Suddenly, Andrew was all blades, his voice sharp, his eyes pointed, and his body full of angry angles. And Kevin stopped, like the good dog he was. He stopped and stared at his scarred hand.

Andrew sighed as if he was exhausted by his own outburst and Kevin’s perfect obedience. He pushed his hair out of his face. “You will not die. You will not be alone. And you don’t have to go back to Baltimore. I didn’t realise how behind you are on the news cycle of your own life, but you have free choice by now. Hurrah!”

“I wouldn’t know where else to go. Baltimore is all I have.”

“Oh, Kevin Day, I despise you with all my heart.” Andrew closed the yellow bag he had been eating out of and put it down. “I absolutely hate you. And I will say these things only once. But you evidently already found a place to stay,” he made a hand gesture showing the room. “Do you think it was only your wife that was missing you? Jean and Jeremy have been blowing up my phone for the last 24 hours. Aaron started calling hospitals as soon as he heard, and Neil damn near reached out to his uncle to find you.”

Shame prickled in Kevin. So it had been as he feared. He created too many worries for the people around him; all he brought to the table was anxiety and an emptiness where love should be. Andrew snapped his fingers, forcing Kevin out of his downward spiral, an action well-trained.

“And you can always fight the cats for a sleeping arrangement in Chicago,” he continued. It took Kevin a second to fully comprehend these words and their implications.

“Would you really let me crash on your couch?” Kevin hated how hope crept into his voice, how he sounded like a little boy anticipating a great present. And he hated even more how he felt a little bit more settled and a lot more protected.

Andrew looked at him like he often had done. With a flat stare, an expressionless face, but a glimmer of affection somewhere buried in his hazel eyes. With relaxed shoulders and a slightly raised eyebrow. With an emotion that was not like the love of the movies the other Foxes had made them watch, but with something akin to it, an emotion that Kevin would be able to match.

“Kevin, every apartment Neil and I ever rented had an extra bedroom.”