Chapter Text
NOW WE’RE FALLING
Renee lifted her feet onto the couch in Dobson’s office, and rested her chin on her knees, blowing air into her cheek so that it ballooned up, and slowly exhaled it back out. It had got to be the third time in the last fifteen minutes that Renee had done that. Not that it took her five minutes to exhale the air, no it was just under forty seconds. Neil had been counting each time, and that had been the girls average. Still, Dobson clutched at her hot chocolate with two cupped hands, the steam causing her hair to curl as she watched him.
After another minute of awkward silence, Dobson cracked first.
“I thought perhaps this session you could ask me questions, Neil.”
The statement was of enough interest that it drew Neil away from his fascinated study of the glass animals that were lined up like trophies behind her. An odd choice of collectables, was what Neil had been thinking. There didn’t seem to be a particular theme of cohesion to the arrangement nor the selection. And the objects themselves weren’t of any rarity, rather a common tourist trap that Neil had spotted out and about. High streets stalls, mall pop ups, train stations, bus stations, airports- they seemed to be everywhere.
“Why?”
“Is that your first question?”
“That isn’t an answer.”
Renee’s stimming had drawn to an end as her eyes swivelled between Neil and Dobson. She was far more used to their death matches in almost complete silence. Not that she was going to interject with a comment or opinion. Neil had suspected that Renee was more grateful than ever to hear the pair of them speaking- even if Neil’s was goaded with barbs.
“I think this approach should help us build trust,” Dobson splayed her hands at Neil, flashing a smile as if to say- hey! You can totally believe me!
It made Neil distrust her even more.
“I think that you see this as a mind reading trick Neil. I think you forget that I am here to help, in any which way I can. We don’t have to talk about the Nest, we don’t have to talk about your family, or anything else that you don’t want to. You’re in full control, and I think this is the best way to ensure that. Do you agree?”
Neil parted his lips. Dobson was far better therapist than he had suspected. Not that he thought that Palmetto state would chip out for a cheap shrink, especially with the calibar of the team members… But that being said, Exy players were all broken. That’s what drew them to the sport- the appeal of finding the thing that made you feel whole, from the starting buzzer to the end.
And yet- and yet- Dobson had made a compelling argument. Compelling enough to make her intelligent enough for Neil to think he ought to engage with her.
“I thought I was supposed to be asking the questions,” Neil muttered, and he did his best not to roll his eyes. You know what they say- two steps forward, one step back. Dobson shifted in her seat, settling back against the cushions as if to say, hey kid, go ahead! Neil licked his lips, uncertain where to start. He had things that he needed to work out, things he needed to say. Things regarding these resurfacing- memories? Dreams? In relation to his mother. Hell, he wasn’t even sure what they were. He needed to speak about the deal he made with Ichirou, how he only had a matter of months to prove his worth. How he had possible a matter of months to live if he failed, because no one would be able to drag him back to Riko if he lost, let alone his father. Dying didn’t seem like giving up a fight to Neil. It just presented itself as an opportunity to get out. He needed to talk about his eagerness to be suicidal. There was so much that Neil needed to talk about, to get off his chest. Instead, he found himself asking--
“How do you know if you like someone? Like,” the word for what Neil was feeling rattled around in his mind but he couldn’t pin it down.
“Romantically?” Dobson filled in for him, matter of factly. There was no judgement, no amusement, as if she had suspected all along that this was what Neil was going to say despite Neil not knowing himself. He scowled, internally kicking himself, but he swallowed his pride and nodded.
Even when Andrew was nowhere near him, he still somehow monopolised Neil’s train of thought.
“Or rather,” Neil continued irritably, angry at the realisation as his thoughts slotted everything together. “How do you stop yourself from liking someone ro-- someone in that way.” The word that Dobson said caught in his throat like he swallowed a rather large mouthful of honey. Neil choked and gagged on it. To him, have feelings was a weakness. Having those feelings? His skin crawled like maggots were burrowing there way into his skin. But for some reason he found himself looking at Dobson through his eyelashes, desperately searching for an answer.
Dobson furrowed her brow in thought, doing her best to process the question prior to answering it. For once, Neil was grateful that he was here. He was grateful that Dobson was the one he could approach these questions too. He wondered for a moment, who else he might possibly ask. Wymack would simply say it’s above his pay grade. Abby would give him that look of equal measure pity and confusion, one which curdled Neil’s stomach, and made his cheeks heat. He was getting tired of everyone treating him like a charity case. Kevin and Jean were both hopeless at these tasks, seeing as Jean was as about closed of to the possibility of a normal relationship as Neil was, and Kevin found it hard to focus on anything besides Exy. It was what made Kevin and his girlfriend work so well. Neither was as important as the Exy match, and they were both aware and comfortable with this knowledge. And it wasn’t like Neil was able to talk to any of the other team members about this. Nicky had already made it so blatantly clear that they were making bets on his sexuality. So far all Neil had done was neither confirm nor deny the outcome of said bet, making the pot of money bigger and bigger. Whoever the winner was going to be, was going to be very lucky.
“Neil, I don’t think it is something to be stopped,” Dobson said at last. “But that isn’t a bad thing. The difference between your case and others, is that your experience with intimacy so far has been without your consent. You’ve never had the option to explore intimacy positively, that choice has always been made for you.” Dobson pursed her lips and looked at Neil over the top of her steaming mug.
Neil swallowed, letting that sink in. She had spoken so matter of factly, this was less a suggestion, and more a diagnosis of his pysche. He shifted in his seat a little, and returned her hard gaze.
“Perhaps, being here, you can explore this connection. All your connections. I hear that you have made friends- your particularly close with Kevin and Jean. You’ve fitted well into the team, and they look up to you.”
Neil frowned at this particular statement. He didn’t really think that the other members of the team looked up to him. If anything, they tolerated him at best. He was well aware that he hadn’t made it easy for them, but then again when had he ever made it easy for anyone? He slyly looked Renee’s way, who was now sat crosslegged next to him, abesentmindly playing with the yarn she had brought in. Crochet, Neil reminded himself, remembering the funny name for the knitting that she was doing.
“It’s true Neil,” she whispered in quiet confirmation, never looking up from what she was doing. “You have a tendency to make others toe the line. Who knew we needed a fixer upper like you to fix up the team, eh?”
“I-” Neil closed his mouth, blinking back a hot flurry of tears. “Thank you,” he said, not only to Renee, but Dobson too. Dobson beamed at him, and for once Neil wasn’t repulsed by it. He felt- calm. It was a strange feeling, but he knew it to a positve one.
“The question is Neil, are you ready? To explore these relationships you’ve established with others?” Dobson set her mug down, and folded her hands in her lap, leaning forward intently. The message was necessary, and Neil needed to hear it. “You start by setting boundaries. No one is expecting you to jump to the end stage now. Take it one step at a time. Only do what makes you feel comfortable. And when you need someone to talk to, I’m on the other side of the phone.”
Neil swallowed, hard. It made him feel a little sick, if anything. But oddly- the whole encounter had helped. Not that Neil would ever admit it, but he finally thought that he might have found the point to therapy.
***
The next Exy match was too far away to drive, so Wymack had bought them all cheap plane tickets. Neil didn’t mind flying- it made everything seem small, insignificant. Sorta like him in a way.
What he did mind was how far away this match was, and where it was located. Neil hadn’t been back to New York in a long time, and he was still feeling agitated despite knowing his father been arrested a long time ago- and in Boston of all places. Still, the feeling of being watched, of needing to check over his shoulder every fifteen seconds hadn’t left him.
They were playing a match against the Suffolk County Devils, not a team with a long standing rivalry, considering they didn’t have much talent. Still, they had stepped up their game since Neil had last watched a match of theirs. The new players worked like they had something to prove, and the old players worked like they needed to put the newbies in their place.
Wymack drove them to the stadium so that they could catch their mid morning flight, leaving them enough time to settle in and get a little practise prior to the match. The bus had been buzzing with enthusiasm, Allison situating herself at the front of the bus, with her legs stretched across the other seat, Dan and Renee sitting across from her, textbooks open as they took in time before midterm exams. Matt sat in the row behind them, hair ungelled, sketchbook open as he made swift strokes in pen, using his girlfriend as his muse. It had surprised Neil how talented Matt was at art. He wouldn’t have suspected from the hulking nature of the man, to be capable of something so intricate, so delicate. Yet, Matt had admitted that the process was relaxing, that he enjoyed the freedom and the expression.
Nicky and Seth took up the middle of the bus, chatting to one another, yelling across the aisle of the bus like it was physically impossible for them both to sit together. Yet the warmth closed the distance between the two, and Seth’s barking laughter echoed up and down the coach.
The vixens were travelling in a seperate, and more densely packed mini van behind them, what Aaron was tracking and a particular person on which he was texting, hunched up next to the window seat further down.
Andrew had taken up the entire back row, stretching out like a cat as he fell back into his slumber that he had been prised out of a few hours ago. Jean and Kevin sat in the seats ahead of them, Kevin revisiting every match that the Devils has played, meanwhile Jean had his earphones in, reading glasses on, and was pursuing a book he had brght along with him- something for pleasure, rather than work. He had always been a bookworm, Neil attributed this to the reason why he was able to articulate his insults so well.
“Anyone sitting here?” Neil asked Allison, pointing to the seat next to her. It was his way of asking without saying ‘please.’ Allison slowly lifted her gaze to reach Neil, hands poised as she unscrewed a bottle of lemon coloured nail polish. She arched an eyebrow, and Neil gave her a pointed look. It was a well established fact among the team that Neil lacked manners. He was being his politest with Allison, not without her trying to encourage a ‘thank you’ from him everytime they interacted. She uncurled her legs, and patted the seat next to her, tossing her mane of hair behind her shoulder.
“And I thought you were a model’s twelve sort of person,” she muttered in lieu of greeting. Neil had no idea what that meant, but kept his mouth tightly closed. Allison had a way of making people feel stupid without telling them that they were. It was an admirable trait, and one that Neil knew not to provoke. He watched as she dipped the brush into the pot, and lacquered her nails with the colour. It was pretty.
“Whatcho doing?” Neil asked, mesmorised by the quick brush strokes, the sparkle and shine it added to her hands. Allison smirked, watching him from the corner of her eye.
“Painting my nails, silly,” she answered in a teasing voice, as though she were talking to a younger brother. Neil grunted, plopping his chin in his hand and watching as she worked quickly, lifting her hand to gently blow them dry. Allison bit her lip as she dipped her unpainted hand into her away bag, pulling out a small pencil case that clinked as she passed it over to him. “Here, pick a colour.”
Neil blinked as he took it from her, and Allison set to work on her other hand. She spent longer on this one, sticking her tongue out with concentration, careful not to get the colour on her fingers. Neil watched for a second longer, before unzipping the pencil case, and dozens of bottles burst from the zipper. He rifled through them, enjoying the different types. There were blues, and greens, and pinks, and purples- in the end, he settled on a turquoise colour, silver sparkle flecks dotted amongst them. Gingerly, Allison gestured for the bag back, and she carefully zipped it back and placed it in her bag, before spreading her fingers out and inspecting them. The coloured nails were a stark contrast to the callouses and marks left from where she taped them up for matches.
Neil held the bottle out to Allison, and she nodded, waving her hands in the air a little. “Lovely,” she admired, without an ounce of sarcasm or mockery. She genuinely was complimenting him on his choice. “Sit next to me on the plane, I’ll do yours.” Neil felt himself blush slightly, and nodded in thanks, pocketing the bottle.
It was a small victory, a reminder that he wasn’t in the Ravens anymore. There had been stricter gender norms there.Boys didn’t wear make up, or style their hair into spikes like Matt, or wear shocking clothes like Nicky. The girls didn’t even do that, not really. Neil allowed for his mind to drift back to his conversation with Matt. Here he had a freedom to express himself.
***
Once in the airport, Neil manged to convince Wymack to let him keep his away bag close to his chest, rather than put in hold with the rest of the luggage. He felt strange to part with it, watching it go into the gaping black tunnel. It sent a shockwave of panic that he didn’t appreciate. Rather than argue, Wymack had agreed, and went to score a coffee, leaving them all to their own devices, simply trusting them all to be there when he got back.
Neil saw that Andrew was stood by the windows, watching as the planes took off and landed. Rather than listen to a boring conversation between Seth and Nicky, or pretend interest with the girls and the Vixens, he walked over, hands buried deep into his coat pocket, nose buried into his scarf. It was their last match before winter break, last match before the Christmas banquet.
“Plans to go home?” Neil asked Andrew, mostly for something to say. He watched as Andrew rolled his eyes in Neil’s attempt at a conversation.
“I hate small talk,” Andrew muttered, never taking his gaze from the planes. Neil shrugged his shoulders and studied him. He blinked. Andrew’s pulse seemed to be jumping, a thump, thump, thump too quick to be a regular heartbeat. Neil stopped himself from laughing.
“Andrew,” he whispered, tracking Andrew’s gaze. “Andrew- are you scared of flying?” Andrew’s gaze momentarily flickered, as he reached up and found a vein in his neck, he held out his hand and flicked two fingers towards Neil. Obediently, Neil pulled the sleeve of his coat up. Andrew’s fingers quickly found his own vein, and hovered above it, waiting for confirmation from Neil. “Yes,” Neil said lightly, not minding Andrew’s touch. Andrew pressed his fingers down, and began to tap out two differing rhythms, that of Neil’s heart and one of his own. Andrew’s was clearly going faster. Neil couldn’t help but let out a little laugh.
“You’re scared of heights and yet you spend all that time on the roof?” Andrew slowly turned to face Neil, with more ferocity than Neil thought could be capable in such a small person. Neil laughed again, more heartidly, as Andrew removed his hand, bottom lip protruding. At first Neil thought that Andrew was snarling, but on closer inspection, he could see that Andrew was sulking.
“Neil!”
Neil turned to see where Allison was beckoning him over, and left Andrew to his own devices, and his own concerns.
The plane ride went fairly smoothly- fair smoother than any of the others that Neil had been on. He was sat next to Allison and Renee, Andrew having scored a seat between Jean and Kevin. They hadn’t spoken any further since their conversation in the airport. As soon as the seat belt light pinged off, Allison unbuckled herself and gestured for Neil to hand over the polish bottle. Renee set down her flashcards, to watch as Allison set to work.
“Is- Is this allowed?” Neil asked gently as Allison took care to be extra sensitive towards him. She didn’t ask for permission to lift each finger, just hovered and waited for Neil to move on his own accord, trusting him to trust her. In doing it this way, Neil had all of the control and none of the pressure. It was kind, reassuring. He had noticed that this was how all of the Foxes treated him, presumably under the strict instruction of Andrew.
“Would you stop is if it wasn’t?” Allison asked, never taking her eyes off Neil’s nails, using swift and determined strokes. She had already told Neil that she would need to do a second coat to fully show off the colour. Still, it passed the time. Neil did his best not to shrug, to through Allison off.
“I guess not, it’s just- really girly.”
Allison pursed her lips together, partly in concentration, partly in disagreement. “There are a lot of things that you need to learn, Neil hon. For a start, what is and isn’t girly is a social construct. If you wanted to wear dresses or skirts no one here would bat an eyelid. Wymack lets us be whoever and whatever we want to be- so long as it keeps us focussed on court.”
She lifted Neil’s first hand, inspecting it closely to make sure that it had dried properly before heading in for touch ups. “Secondly, it is very cool and rock ‘n’ roll to be different. A concept hard for someone who’s had all individuality stripped from him. Ru Paul, David Bowie, Freddie Mercury, Elton John, Oscar Wilde- they all fought for something that you could enjoy. They fought against a world so that you wouldn’t have to live it.” Allison peered up at him, a hard expression set in her face. “Do not reject their struggle by committing to something that puts you down.”
Renee gave a sweet smile, and touched her necklace, a silver cross that hung on a delicate chain. It had been something that her foster mother had given her, Neil knew that much. “We are not judge, jury or exectioner Neil,” she put simply. “My faith tells me to show love and kindness to all, no matter who they are. My faith tells me that we are all Gods creation, and I follow that faith, not what those who control a institution simply for power.”
Allison grinned back, “what Renee means to say is fuck ‘em.” Neil looked at his nails, watching how they glinted in the overhead light. Fuck ‘em.
Allison dropped the polish bottle on his lap, and opened a magazine, flicking straight to the page where there were samples of different perfumes. “Keep it,” she said nochanlantly. “It’s never really been my colour anyway.”
Thank you.
The words were caught at the back of his mouth, refusing to come out. Instead he made a pained, strangled noise, and Allison smirked, ear marking the page of something that she liked, saving it to pay for later.
“You’re welcome.”