Chapter Text
The first few days are the hardest, mostly because he has to deal with everyone finding out. He's discharged from the ER just a few hours after Aaron shows up, and Dr. Bixby gives Aaron a long list of thing to look out for in case his concussion gets worse. Aaron soaks it up even though Andrew is certain he knows concussion protocol since he's, you know, a neurosurgeon. Andrew says as much as he, very reluctantly, sits in the wheelchair Bee pushes out to Aaron's car.
Aaron huffs. "It's…different when it's not my patient." He rolls his eyes. "Besides, I'm not a neurosurgeon yet."
Andrew lets it go. He's still unbelievably tired, and he crashes as soon as they get back to his apartment. Bee, the enabler that she is, has coffee and ice cream ready when he wakes up. Aaron is more sensible and has Chinese food at the door in fifteen minutes.
Aaron wants to talk about it, Andrew can tell. And with Bee here, it feels like their joint counseling sessions back in college. Bee keeps him in check, though, as she chatters about her journey over from North Carolina. And Aaron doesn't have a chance to ask anything before Bee gets a text and announces that their stuff is ready to pick up from the police station. She asks Aaron to go, and then it's just him and Bee.
She sits on the couch across from his favorite arm chair and looks at him the way she's looked at him for the better part of ten years - like he's the most interesting and most important person in the world. It makes him feel the most like a human he has all night. "I'm sure you don't want to talk about it right now, Andrew. And it's probably good to give you some time to process. But know I'm here, alright?"
Andrew nods and slouches farther into his chair.
"Now, what you will need to deal with immediately is the reactions of those closest to you. Aaron, of course. Nicky. But as soon as word gets out, the Foxes will have questions. Wymack. Abby. And your teammates. Your coaches. It would be good to figure out how you're going to set your boundaries around talking about it."
He feels tired again. He wants to go back to bed, sleep forever, never have to look Aaron in the eyes ever again. But that's not how life works. He knows that all too well. And as loathe as he is to admit, he knows that facing his problems helps. But maybe not today.
"I'll think about it."
He doesn't have long to think about it, because Aaron's return is closely followed by Kevin on his doorstep and a million calls from Nicky and his agent and coach and team doctor. He tells the story over and over as vaguely as he can. For the time being, it seems that the only part of the story they've heard is that he was attacked, and Aaron attacked his attacker.
But then the story hits the news, and everything goes nuts. Wymack and Abby show up with Nicky close behind, and Andrew wishes it didn't help to have them around. It's annoying to have them invading his personal space, filling his apartment like a sardine can, but when Bee has to leave, he's grateful that Abby is there to fill her shoes. She keeps everyone in line when they ask too many questions, makes his favorite casseroles, and is inexplicably in the living room at one am when he wakes after a nightmare, the kettle already going and hot chocolate packets waiting.
Nicky hovers like the helicopter parent he truly is, but he keeps just enough distance and only cries twice. Wymack stands stoically in the corner, a sentinel that Andrew used to fear but now can't help but find comforting. No one is getting through David Wymack - not the press that swarm the street outside Andrew's building, not the endless line of teammates who show up looking to get the details, not the ghost of Drake himself.
The Foxes show up, too, though mostly in the form of video calls and text messages. They react in the most predictable ways. Dan and Matt sit together on FaceTime and prod gently until they know that he won't be saying anything else. Then they eviscerate the people on Twitter giving him any scrap of a hard time and tell him they'll see him when Matt's team plays the Sharks in a couple months. Allison verbally assaults every news organization giving Drake any limelight whatsoever, and Andrew will never tell anyone that he rereads her texts when he can't sleep. Renee's soothing voice is the one that breaks Andrew's walls the most, and he cocoons himself in his bed while she talks about absolutely nothing for nearly two hours.
When she has to hang up, he barely whispers, "Thank you."
"You're welcome, Andrew."
After the first week, the chatter dies down a little, enough that Andrew dares to get on the internet. The bland statement his agent puts out calms the wolves for a moment only for them to snap their jaws when the police report is released. Detective Mendoza, true to her word, buttoned up the case without any charges pressed against Aaron. And the press and fans have turned their anger on the Sharks organization for not protecting their players.
Andrew decides he has better things to do with his time and chooses to eat ice cream in front of Kevin Day for the fourth day in a row. It's kind of sad how much delight he gets from seeing Kevin's disapproving frown.
"That's not in your diet plan."
"Sue me," Andrew drones.
Kevin rolls his eyes and glances at the TV, where an episode of Schitt's Creek is playing softly. Kevin put on a game earlier, and Andrew changed it almost immediately.
It's the first time he's been alone with Kevin. Abby and Wymack returned to North Carolina for summer practices last night, and Aaron dragged Nicky kicking and screaming to the airport to get back to Germany this morning. And since there seemed to be a silent pact that Andrew wouldn't be left alone for the foreseeable future, Kevin showed up just as Nicky reached the pitch of hysteria only dogs could hear.
"Andrew, I…"
Andrew holds his spoon in his mouth and raises an eyebrow at him.
Kevin squirms. "I'm sorry."
"What do you have to be sorry for?"
"I…I left that night. I left you in the locker room. Alone."
Andrew shakes his head. Of course. "This is not your fault, Day."
"But I should've -"
"No." Andrew sits forward. "No shoulds. No buts. It happened. Accept it."
Kevin frowns. "Have you?"
Andrew's lungs fill suddenly, like his body is trying to make sure he doesn't forget to breathe. No, of course he hasn’t accepted it. He was just starting to accept the years of abuse Drake put him through a decade ago, and he's angry. He's angry that Drake once again ruined his life, turned it upside down and made him scared again. Scared of falling asleep. Scared of the shadows. Scared of his own mind.
He's not about to tell Kevin that, of course. "No," he admits. "But I'm working on it."
Kevin frowns for a bit longer before nodding and turning back to the TV.
It's only a matter of time before he's alone with Aaron. They sit playing video games after Kevin leaves for practice, and Aaron hems and haws for nearly an hour before Andrew says, "What?"
Aaron startles and glances at him. "What?"
"You have something to say. Say it."
He takes a deep breath and scowls at the TV. "I just…I'm sorry, I guess."
Andrew sighs. "Not your fault."
"But -"
"Aaron. This is Drake's fault. No one else's." The word's are Bee's from a couple weeks ago, and while Andrew is having a hard time grasping them for himself, Aaron definitely needs to know that.
Aaron stews for a while longer. "Did he… Was he… When you lived there…"
Andrew swallows. He's been waiting for this question. And he's decided that he's going to tell him the truth. "Yes."
The character Aaron's playing freezes on screen, and in his moment of hesitation, he dies. "And you…he…"
Slowly, Andrew turns to look at him. He's gone ghostly white. "He talked about you after he found out about you. I didn't want you to come to California. I did want to meet you."
Aaron sucks in a deep breath and turns to meet Andrew's eyes. "Ok."
"Ok."
And that's that.
It takes three weeks for Andrew to brave going back to the stadium. The first few times are only to the team doctor's office for check ups and concussion checks. He isn't cleared for training until six weeks in, and Andrew only says yes because Bee thought exercise and getting back into a routine would help. It does, even if his lungs seize up every time he walks through the locker room.
His first game back in unform feels like breathing fresh air for the first time. He'd never admit liking Exy to anyone (especially Kevin, who would never let him live it down), but every once in a while he will admit to himself that there's a thrill in locking down the goal. It feels like taking back control. And he enjoys pissing people off.
The first week into the playoffs, he gets a notification on his phone that grinds his brain to halt. Months ago, he set a Google alert for anything having to do with the Nathan Wesninski case. He didn't expect to hear anything. It's been eight years, after all. But as he cools down after a work out, he stares at a recent Baltimore news release: "Butchers' Right Hand Woman Caught, Lola Malcolm Finally Behind Bars."
Until this moment, Andrew has avoided thinking about Neil. His memories of Neil in the hospital are at once sharp and hazy. There are moments of clarity, like Neil rolling his eyes or the stories he told him. And there are fuzzier ones that he's not sure are real or not. Did he hold Neil's wrist for as long as he thinks he did? Did Neil stare at him while he fell asleep? Did Neil snap at a police officer to back off? He knows it's because of the concussion and the pain meds, but he's not used to his thoughts being so jumbled. And it's incredibly frustrating not knowing if what he's remembering is completely trustworthy.
But seeing this…all he wants to do is talk to Neil. What is he thinking? What is he feeling? What does this mean?
Why is he so invested in this?
Well, he knows the answer to that question. But he won't look at it too closely. It's something that hasn't come up with Bee yet, and he's dreading the day it does.
For now, he reads everything he can about Lola's arrest, her charges, when the trial will be. There's not much. It's been so long since the original trials that it's not a hot enough topic to warrant more than a couple stories in local Baltimore papers and a short mention in a national news overview. A tentative date for a trial is set for next year, and Andrew gets a little thrill when he reads the line "Nathan Wesninski's son, Nathaniel, is rumored to be lined up to testify as he did eight years ago."
Andrew itches to see Neil's face, read the emotions going on there.
And when the Sharks make it to the championships and Kevin asks if he wants to invite anyone else to be in their VIP box with the Foxes, he sees his opportunity. It's crazy. And it could go terribly wrong. But he has to see Neil again.
He tries to mention it casually to Kevin, and Kevin reacts about as well as he expected.
"But…Andrew, why?"
Andrew pins him with a look. "Because he sat with me in the hospital for over six hours, and no one has ever done that for me before."
Kevin blinks at him. "Oh. Ok. Sure then."
He tells his agent to extend the invitation with an as vague as possible comment about Lola. And he drops Neil's acceptance in conversation at family dinner with Aaron and Katelyn the next week.
Katelyn nods quickly. "Yes, I was there was your agent called. Neil seemed a little shocked, but I think he's excited. I don't think he…gets out much. He kind of keeps to himself, so coming to the game will be really great."
Aaron eyes Andrew skeptically and snorts. "I just hope he doesn't fangirl all over us. Everyone's going to be there, right? I thought I was done with college Exy fans."
"Aaron," Katelyn scoffs, kicking him under the table. "Neil's chill. I promise he won't be weird."
When Katelyn is in the restroom later, Aaron turns a calculating look on Andrew. "Can't believe you invited him."
Andrew can't quite read his tone, and it picks at his nerves. "What's it to you?"
"I'm the one who has to spend the evening with him. If you wanted to ask him out, a game is kind of a lame date."
Katelyn comes back then, so Andrew doesn't get to respond. He's not sure what he would've said anyway. As he lays in bed that night, he finally lets himself think about Neil like that. It's a confusing mix of emotions tangled in his chest. Because on the one hand, Neil is hot. Kind. Fierce. Something about the way that Neil spoke so gently to him and was so attentive to his boundaries and needs has burrowed it's way into Andrew's chest. He's not a stranger to desire, to lust. He's more terrified of the other feelings flying around in his head - affection being the top one.
And that's where his brain short circuits. He can't convince himself that any of his feelings for Neil are real. The three times they've interacted have all been in the hospital. Two of those were when Andrew was either concussed, on pain meds, or both. And the broken hand visit was…well, it wasn't exactly a date. Neil was doing his job. And Andrew was vulnerable. How can he trust that Neil was nice to him for any other reason than treating him as he would any patient? And how can he trust that his own judgements aren't clouded by morphine and a compromised mental state?
He finally breaks down and brings it up with Bee during their weekly Zoom appointment just a few days before the final match. After spilling all of the thoughts swirling around, Bee gazes at him, eyebrows raised just a bit. It's not often Andrew talks so much so willingly.
"Well, that is a lot to think about," she finally says, sitting back in her chair. "Let's unpack this, shall we? It sounds like the most frustrating part about all of this is not knowing if your memories and feelings are accurate given the headspace you were in the few times you've spent time together. I'm sure that’s scary and disorienting considering your excellent memory."
"Yes."
She nods. "And to add to that, these events have been varying levels of traumatic and vulnerable for you. And the only relation you have to him is as his patient. These are some very complex emotions and circumstances to work with."
"Yeah. It's shit."
Bee chuckles. "I'm sure. Well, from what I saw that morning, in my personal and professional opinion, Neil certainly cared for you. I can't tell you what was going on in his mind of course. But my understanding is that he didn't leave your side until I showed up."
Andrew nods and stares at his laptop keyboard as he admits, "I didn't want him to." Even after all these years, being honest with Bee feels like being scratched raw.
"And why's that?" she prods gently. She knows. He knows she knows. He gives her a petulant glare that she answers with a half smile and a single eyebrows raise. "I want you to say it."
If he says it aloud, it's real.
"I felt…" He swallows. "I felt safe with him."
Bee smiles one of her proud smiles that Andrew has to look away from. "Good. That's a big deal for you, isn't it?" He nods. "What made you feel safe?"
Oh, he does not want to do this. But he brought this upon himself, he supposes. "The first time, with my shoulder, he…he always asked before touching. He told me everything that was going to happen before it did. He did that every time."
"Mm. Yes. Consent. That's important to you. What else?"
Andrew huffs. "He…He talked to me. Not about me. I hate when doctors do that."
"I agree," she grumbles. "The most dehumanizing thing a doctor or nurse can do, honestly. What else?"
"He…He…I don't know." There are a million little moments flitting through Andrew's mind that he wishes he could telepathically convey to Bee instead of having to explain. But he knows it's good. He knows the talking helps. It's how he's gotten this far. It's how he's working through that night in the locker room. So, he takes a deep breath and starts talking.
He tells her about Neil agreeing not to remove his armband and folding it down instead. He tells her about the line he gave him - "Just because you've been in pain before, doesn't mean you need to be in pain now." - and how much he was reminded of her. (That gets him a laugh.) He admits the amount of trust he put in him and Aaron to be sedated for his shoulder being popped back in place. He tells her about all the of the consent Neil asked for when cleaning his knuckles and putting his cast on. And he runs through as much detail as he can give about the most recent hospital visit - the way Neil snapped at the officers, the soft tone he took with Andrew, the stories he told to keep him distracted.
Bee smiles through the whole thing, leaning forward and resting her chin in her hand near the end. "Well, Andrew that sounds lovely. I'm very proud of you for expressing all of these feelings."
"Yeah. Whatever," he grumbles, hating the little glow of satisfaction that warms his chest. "But that's his job. He's supposed to take care of his patients. What if…"
"What if he's not who he says he is? What if he's different when he's not at work?" Andrew nods. "That's something you'll have to find out this weekend, Andrew."
Andrew stares at the letter Q on his keyboard.
"It's something you'll have to accept - that you won't know how he is outside of work until you spend time with him outside of work. And you won't know if your feelings for him are based solely on the fact that he was comforting during a vulnerable time until you spend time with him outside of those vulnerable times."
Their time is up soon after, and he feels both better and worse than he had before. All he can think about is what he's going to say to Neil when he sees him this weekend.
***
The Foxes are rowdy as usual, commandeering a large booth in the back of a Denny's and garnering looks of annoyance from most tables around them. Andrew already has a headache, and they've only just ordered their food. But he's happy. He can admit that. He's optimistic tonight.
Allison, Renee, and Dan crowded in first and are chattering as they flip through pictures on their phones. Matt and Kevin are in deep conversation about the game tomorrow, and Nicky is grilling Aaron about Katelyn, who had to work tonight.
"Nicky. You will see her at the game tomorrow, and you can ask her all of these things yourself," Aaron grumbles.
"Oh, she's coming tomorrow?" Nicky chirps, turning a surprised look on Andrew.
"Yeah," Aaron says, sipping his soda. "And Andrew invited a special guest for himself, too."
Nicky's eyes go huge. "Who? Andrew, who? What is he talking about?"
Andrew rolls his eyes. "His name is Neil."
Nicky vibrates in his seat. "He?"
"He's one of the nurses that treated him in June," Aaron says.
The reminder of that night sobers the table, and everyone's attention turns to Andrew. "Yeah."
"Oh. Oh! Is he the one that was there when you dislocated your shoulder last year, too? The name sounds familiar." Nicky's eyebrows furrow deeply.
"Yeah."
Allison rolls her eyes. "My God, now is not the time to be monosyllabic, Minyard. Spill."
Andrew levels a bored look at her, but what's weird is that he wants to talk about Neil. But he's not sure what to say. Renee is the only one he consistently talks to, and he hasn't even told her. She doesn’t look upset, though, just curious and pleased.
"He…He was there when I dislocated my shoulder and broke my hand and…in June, too." He swallows. "He's…you will like him."
Aaron sighs. "He - I can't believe I'm saying this - He's cool. He stayed with Andrew that whole night. Never left."
Andrew keeps his eyes trained on a drop of condensation running down the side of his cup to avoid the looks in everyone's eyes. Renee is the one who breaks the silence.
"Well, I'm excited to meet him."
The conversation moves on, but somehow, Neil comes up three more times as they talk. He gets very different looks from Nicky, Aaron, and Kevin each time, but he ignores them. He's not sure what will happen in the VIP box tomorrow when Neil shows up and is met with this group of idiots. But at the end of the game, he'll be waiting for Andrew. And that's worth it, he thinks.
***
The game is…Exy. There's more pressure, of course, being the finals and everything. But all Andrew can think about is Neil sitting in the VIP box. He itches to look over every free moment he has, but he knows logically that he wouldn't be able to see him from down here. What he can see is Jeremy on his feet through the whole game screaming his head off as Jean sits seriously beside him, muttering what is probably a string of French expletives. Kevin got them courtside seats right behind the bench, and Andrew can see the physical restraint it takes for Kevin to not walk over to them every time he leaves the court.
"Simp," Andrew mutters when he sees Kevin stop himself from waving as they're walking to the locker room between halves.
"Shut up," Kevin gripes, blushing.
Andrew hadn't even noticed that no one scored the first, his body going into autopilot and blocking the dismal shots headed his way. But the second half is more intense, and he has to concentrate as they get more and more desperate and physical. Kevin finally scores, and that opens the floodgates. Andrew puts everything he's got into blocking the last few shots, trying to push away the feeling that he's showing off, that it would be so cool if Neil saw him get a shutout tonight.
And then it happens. It's over. They won. His teammates, who tolerate him on a good day, crowd around him, careful not to touch but congratulatory in their own ways. Kevin - smiling from ear to ear like he only does after a win like this (or a weekend alone with his boyfriends) - stops in front of Andrew. He's panting, vibrating. He reminds Andrew a bit of Neil in this moment, like he has too much going on in his body to sit still. Andrew just nods at him, his own chest heaving.
"Good game, Day."
Kevin glows. "Good game, Minyard."
The trophy is awarded, Kevin hoisting it over his head as two of their backliners lift him up on their shoulders. He stands a bit apart from his team, not wanting to get crushed in the fray. But he steps close for pictures and shakes hands when they're extended.
When it's finally time to head down to the showers, Andrew has a terrible thought. What if Neil doesn't know to stay? What if he leaves without even talking to Andrew? He wasn't explicitly clear in his invitation that he should stay after, win or lose. Neil's smart, though, right? He'll stay. Or Nicky won't let him leave.
He showers faster than he usually does, dragging Kevin away from the locker celebrations to meet their friends. Kevin shouts over his shoulder that they'll see them at the after party and then hurries along with Andrew. They wind through the stadium, smiling at straggling fans and stadium employees. When they finally open the door to the VIP box, the screaming is instantaneous. Nicky is the loudest, of course, stopping just short of throwing his arms around Andrew and opting for a huge smile.
Andrew is quickly distracted by Kevin eyeing Neil like he may attack him at any moment. Neil is frozen, too, the distinct look of a rabbit about to bolt. Jean breaks the staring contest by whispering something in Kevin's ear. Right. Neil doesn't know about the three of them. How would he? Andrew's not sure how Kevin will react. He's more comfortable now, but they're still not public.
But then Kevin surprises him. He pulls Jean down and kisses him deeply. The affect on Neil is instant, his jaw dropping open and his eyes bugging out. Andrew makes his way over to him as Jeremy does what he does best and melds himself to Kevin's body.
Neil doesn't see him approach, and he jumps when Andrew says, "Staring." Neil turns to him, and Andrew watches him out of the corner of his eye.
"How long, uh, how long? Them?"
Eloquent, Josten. Is what he wants to say, but he's not sure if sarcasm is the way to go yet. But he can't be bothered to remember how long Kevin's been with Jean and Jeremy, and honestly, any guess would be wrong since Kevin kept the start of their relationship secret from even Andrew. So, he says, "A while." and watches Neil rolls his eyes.
"That's specific, thanks." Neil darts his gaze around the room and lowers his voice. "Jean recognized me. Knows who I am. I don't think he'll say anything until I do, but just so you know."
"How does he know you?" It's a silly question, really. Jean was Raven, too. It's all an incestuous web of murder and lies.
"I don't know really. But my father worked for the Moriyamas. I'm sure his murder was a big deal for Riko." Andrew is inclined to agree. That spring was a big deal for Riko generally - his father's death, his brother's rise to power, his death. It's not hard to imagine that the death of one of the Moriyamas' closest allies put pressure on the whole crime syndicate to lay low while the FBI trials were happening. Riko wasn't good at lying low. Andrew watches the side of Neil's face as he watches Jean smile sweetly at Kevin. "He must have a good memory." Andrew hums, feeling Neil's smirk in his stomach. "Now who's staring?"
Fortunately, Andrew doesn't have to cover how much he's flustered, because Nicky asks about the after party and insists that Neil come along before Andrew can invite him. Unfortunately, Andrew doesn't get Neil alone, finding his passenger seat full of Nicky and hoping Neil can't see the goosebumps on the back of his neck from where he's sitting in the back seat chatting with Erik.
When he switches to German, Andrew nearly runs a red light, and Nicky squeals. "You know German? Neil, you're getting more interesting by the minute."
The rooftop bar that team management booked is lavish and loud. The Foxes claim another big booth in the corner, dumping their stuff and scattering to get drinks or dance to the nondescript techno music blaring from the speakers. Kevin yanks Andrew away from the table, too, excusing them for some "networking." Neil raises an unimpressed eyebrow and stays in the booth, people watching.
Andrew watches him in between boring conversations with donors and sponsors and big wig industry people who want him to do ads and photoshoots. Neil looks squirrely, jittery. But he never leaves. He sits and catches Andrew's eye occasionally.
He watches in particular interest when Jean and Jeremy join him, wondering if he should be a buffer. But Jean is smiling as he chats. Neil's obviously tense, but there isn't any yelling or scowls, so it must be going ok.
Kevin eventually abandons him, and Andrew stops at the bar for a soda for Neil. But when he gets to the table, Neil's gone, coming back slightly timidly later and slouching into the seat Andrew's left open next to him.
Neil seems as averse to conversation as he is. Or maybe he's working up the nerve to talk to Andrew. Andrew certainly is. He's not sure what he wants to say, but he doesn’t really want everyone else around to hear it.
The bar slowly empties, but the Foxes are far from ready to call it a night. Nicky offers the house they've rented for the weekend for an after after party.
Of course, Nicky beats Andrew to saying, "Neil, would you like come?"
Neil frowns. "Um -"
"You don't have to," Nicky says quickly. Neil chews his lip, and Andrew's stomach sinks. Maybe he works tomorrow. Maybe he overdid it with having all the Foxes here and throwing Neil into it.
But then Neil looks at Andrew, asking with a raise of an eyebrow, and Andrew nods immediately. Of course he doesn't Neil to leave. Of course he wants more time with Neil. If only he could say that in words. Stupid words.
Neil brightens considerably. "Yeah. Sure. As long as I'm not intruding."
"Not at all," Dan chirps, red in the cheeks and leaning heavily on Matt. "We'd love to get to know you more."
This time Nicky drags Erik to Aaron's car and gives Andrew a big wink behind Neil's back. Andrew flips him the finger and climbs into the driver's seat.
Neil's knee bounces sporadically. And a few minutes in, he quietly says, "Thank you. For inviting me tonight. It was a lot of fun."
"I'm glad. I know the others are a lot. But I figured an Exy junkie like you would shit your pants hanging out with them."
Neil lets out a little hum and frowns. "Is that why you invited me? Just…to watch Exy? Hang out with the Foxes?"
"No." He goes to say more, to explain all the reasons he has for inviting Neil, but he can't seem to get the words past his brain. He deserves to know. By the end of the night, he has to know.
The rental is downtown, a two-story townhouse squashed between other two-story townhouses, and Aaron has already taken the one driveway spot. He has to parallel park very carefully, and he doesn't miss the way Neil ogles his arm. It gives him a bit of confidence. But then they walk into the chaos of the Foxes, and all thought of chatting with Neil is lost in drunk giggles and calls for drink orders.
Andrew takes over the blender from Nicky since Nicky always puts too much ice in his margaritas. Neil stays in the kitchen with him, leaning against the other side of the island and taking drinks to their respective owners.
Matt is the one to break the quiet din of random conversations. "Thanks, man. Also, you look really familiar. Which is weird, because you'd think I'd recognize -" He pauses. "Sorry. I'm drunk. I was totally going to call out your scars. That's a dick move."
Andrew rolls his eyes.
Neil laughs. "You wouldn't be the first. Aaron did it the first time we met."
Everyone goes silent, and Andrew snorts to himself as Aaron scoffs. "What?"
Nicky gives one of his tired dad sighs. "You've really got to work on your bedside manner."
"Funny. Neil told me the same thing the first time we met," Aaron gripes. "Matt's right, though. You do look familiar. Like I've see you somewhere before that night in the ER."
God, of course they all get drunk and suddenly have 20/20 vision and perfect memories. Andrew brings his drink in and watches Neil scan the faces staring at him. He's thinking about it. He's thinking about telling the truth. Wow. Neil looks to Andrew, and he just raises an eyebrow.
This is all you, Josten. They won't judge.
Neil hesitates one more minute, finally looking at Katelyn seriously. "You have to promise not to act differently at work."
Katelyn's eyebrows draw together. "Neil. Of course."
"Um. Well. Ok then."
Oh, no, this is a sitting down conversation. Neil looks like he's about to book it in the other direction. Andrew snags his shirt sleeve and leads him to the other couch which Nicky and Erik have left suspiciously open. Neil sits with a sigh and waits until Andrew stops adjusting to start.
"I'm, um…" He pauses, frowning, and Andrew watches the gears work in his head, the way his knee shakes. "My real name isn't Neil Josten. I'm in Witness Protection, and I have been for almost eight years now." He pauses again, swallows, looks at his toes. "My real name is Nathaniel Wesninski."
Andrew moves his eyes from Neil's face to watch everyone else. It takes a few moments, but then Aaron sits up, nearly knocking Katelyn right out of his lap. "You're-You're… No. Absolutely not. Absolutely not, Andrew. We have enough ex-mafia members in this friend group already."
Jean scoffs imperiously. "Kevin and I were never in the mafia, thank you very much. We were merely pawns."
"I wasn't either, to be clear," Neil says, eyes panicky.
"What is everyone talking about?" Katelyn asks, looking to Aaron for clarification as everyone else stares at Neil in various states of shock.
Dan blinks slowly and rubs her temple. "What, so those trials… Those trials we watched the year we graduated? What was his name? The Butcher of Baltimore? Serial killer guy?"
"You're a serial killer?" Katelyn gasps.
"What? No!" Neil's words come fast. "My father was. He was a serial killer, worked for the Moriyamas. They're linked to the Ravens, the Exy team at Edgar Allen. I was - I was supposed to play there. I tried out with Kevin when I was little." Andrew blinks. That's news to him. It was a tryout? "Like the next day, my mom took me on the run. We were in hiding for years. She died. My father's people found me, and the FBI got involved. I testified at trials for his inner circle. And I've been in WITSEC ever since." He clears his throat and runs a hand through his hair. "I still am, like I said, but the last of my father's inner inner circle was arrested a few weeks ago. Hopefully soon I won't need to be."
Everyone is silent. Wymack leans back in his chair and appraises Neil. "You know, with a story like that, you would've made a good Fox."
Neil coughs out a laugh, and Andrew watches the tension leave his shoulders. "Well, that's a huge compliment. I…I watched your guys' games every week during the trials. And I've…watched all the pro games since then, too. Exy is…Exy's important to me, I guess."
Andrew rolls his eyes. He's starting to sound like Kevin. "Really are a junkie." He can't hide the smile when Neil turns to him with a deadpan glare.
"Wait, so… Can I ask about the scars, then?" Matt asks, earning him a slap on the chest from Dan. He yelps. "What? I'm curious."
"Don't you remember the trials?" Dan asks, shooting Neil a furtive look.
Matt frowns, takes an unhelpful sip of his beer, and then chokes. "Oh God. I do remember. Shit. I'm so sorry. Again. I need to stop drinking." He sets his beer on the carpet beside the chair.
Neil lets out a genuine laugh, and Andrew gets to watch his face light up with a smile. It's a sight to behold. "It's ok. You can ask. I just can't guarantee you'll like the answer."
The questions come easier after that. They bounce in a hundred different directions - his childhood, his favorite Exy game, all the places he's lived. The conversation drifts to other things after a while, Nicky getting sentimental about their time at Palmetto State and Neil drinking up every detail. Andrew watches him carefully as he listens to Dan laughingly tell him about the time Kevin actually slept on the court and missed his morning class the next day. Jeremy coos, Jean grumbles in French, and Andrew sees the moment that Neil realizes he's safe.
His face goes from grinning to shocked, and he looks at his hands like he's seeing them for the very first time. A thousand emotions cross his face, and Andrew feels along with him. He remembers how it felt to tell Bee about Drake for the first time. He remembers learning he had a brother. He remembers the day that Kevin smiled at him after a shutout at Palmetto State. He remembers when he let Nicky hug him on his graduation day, pretending it was for Nicky's benefit but secretly enjoying it, too.
He hasn't had many moments of feeling safe, of feeling seen, of feeling accepted. And all of them are surrounded with anger and guilt and fear. But they're still precious to him. And God, he wants that for Neil. He hopes this is just the beginning.
Neil ducks into the kitchen for a refill, and Nicky gives him a pointed look. Andrew flips him off again, but he knows he's right. The night is starting to turn to morning. Neil will have to leave soon; the night will have to end. And Andrew can't let him leave without talking to him.
So, when he comes back to the couch, Andrew turns and tucks his ankle under his knee. Neil smiles like he can't quite help it, and it gives Andrew the confidence to say, "I didn't just invite you for Exy. Or only for this." He waves his hand at the room. "I also…everything you did that night. It was important to me. I wanted to show you that."
Neil's smile gets bigger. "You're welcome."
Andrew hates this. "Whatever. I also heard about Lola. Thought you'd want to celebrate."
"How did you hear about Lola? I'm assuming the obscure right hand of a long dead Baltimore serial killer is not a hot topic in Denver." Neil squints at him, a smirk playing on his lips.
"The news." Neil absolutely doesn’t need to know about the Google alert. Not now. Maybe not ever.
"Right," Neil drawls. "I actually…I wanted to tell you. When I found out. Is that weird?"
Andrew's stomach swoops, and he clenches his jaw to keep from throwing up. Neil thought about him. Neil wanted to reach out. "No." He thinks of something then that he hadn't considered yet, and he busies himself by sipping his drink. "Are nurses allowed to date patients?"
"Um, well," Neil stammers. "Uh, well. It's kind of a gray area, really. No rules specifically. The nurse wouldn't treat you again, though, you know? Too much as stake, too close to the situation. That kind of thing. Why?" Neil looks thoroughly confused, and Andrew remembers just how dense Neil can be.
So, he just stares at him. He'll get it eventually, right? Apparent not, because Dan has to butt in after a very tense two minutes to say, "I think Andrew's trying to ask you out on a date, Neil."
Neil face goes completely slack, and Andrew panics as his gaze drifts somewhere over his shoulder. Shit. Did he completely misread this situation? Has he been misunderstanding Neil's reactions? He was right, wasn't he? Neil was just being nice because he was his patient. He had to be nice. Andrew swallows down the fear and sets his jaw.
"Jeez, Andrew, you really are terrible at romance, aren't you?" Nicky teases.
"Shut up, Hemmick," Andrew grumbles, eyes still glued to Neil's. His eyebrows are furrowed now, eyes still slightly glazed. And now Andrew is legitimately concerned. "Neil?" Neil blinks, finally looking at Andrew instead of through him. "Neil?"
Aaron sniggers, "I think you broke him."
"Shut up. Neil?" He wants to reach out and touch him. But he can't, not without asking. Not like this. And what is with him and wanting to touch Neil?
Neil shakes his head a little and finally says, "Yeah?"
"If you don't want to, you can say n-"
"No, I do. I mean, yes, I do. I want to…go on a date with you," Neil sputters, a little surprised smile taking over his face.
Nicky squeals, and Andrew is harshly reminded that they are not alone. He stands and starts toward the back door. "Come out here, Josten. Away from the audience."
Neil follows obediently and rests against the porch railing with a sigh. "I -"
"Are you sure?" Andrew asks again. "Don't say yes because you feel like you have to."
"I don't," Neil says firmly, staring back at Andrew just as intensely. "I'm just…" He wavers just a bit and looks toward the street. "I'm not experienced with dating and relationships. No experience, actually. I've never… Being on the run wasn't exactly the right time. And being in Witness Protection…just seemed like a bad idea. Besides, I've never really…been attracted to anyone. Before you."
Andrew takes a long breath to calm the thundering in his chest, staring at the side of Neil's face as he tries to figure out the feelings racing through his veins. Neil Josten may just be the death of him. And when Neil turns to meet his gaze, he can't keep the words in. "Feelings are hard for me. Things have happened. I'm sure you can guess. And I'm better than I was even in college, but it's still hard." He catches himself and has breathe through another wave of fear and anger at himself for being afraid. "But I feel things with you, about you. Good things. I couldn't let that go. That's why I invited you."
Neil smiles, and it hits Andrew how many of Neil's smiles he's seen tonight. This one is amazed, slightly dazed. "Well, I'm glad you did."
"I'm glad I did, too," he says, stepping closer to Neil. He doesn't even mean to. But he finds himself shoulder to shoulder with Neil against the railing.
They stand like that for a while, staring at each other and then staring at the street. Eventually, Andrew asks the question he's been itching to ask since Neil mentioned it earlier. "So, I didn't realize Lola was your ticket out of Witness Protection."
Neil lets out a long breath. "Yeah. It's weird to think about. I mean, it won't happen for a while. Her trial isn't for months, but…it's a lot more realistic now than it was a few weeks ago."
"So… Will you still be Neil Josten?"
He hums. "I think so. Neil Josten feels…real, I guess. It's the most I've ever felt like myself." He bobs his head back and forth. "I might keep my legal middle name, though, Abram. It's what my mom called me. I want something associated with her, you know?"
Andrew doesn’t know, but he doesn’t protest, either. "Abram. Neil Abram Josten. Sounds pretty real to me."
Neil smiles again. And Andrew smiles back.
***
3 Years Later
Andrew wakes up before Neil, as usual, startling awake and tracing the scars on the back of Neil's hand to convince his brain he's not who it thinks is beside him in bed. Once he's breathing normally again, he takes part in his favorite pastime - staring at Neil. It's almost thirty minutes later that Neil starts stirring, and Andrew watches the lines in his forehead appear and disappear several times. He's braced for Neil to wake violently like he sometimes does after a rough night. But he doesn't. He just blinks his eyes open and blinds Andrew with the blueness of his irises.
Andrew will never get tired of waking up to this.
"Morning, babe," he mumbles.
Andrew wants to smother him with his pillow. "No."
"Baby?"
"Neil."
"Sugar?
Andrew slaps a hand over Neil's mouth and curses his beating heart when he giggles. Giggles. "I hate you."
"Mm mm." Neil shakes his head, eyes twinkling.
He doesn't hate Neil. He couldn't. He's tried over the last three years, but he gave up somewhere around the two year mark. Moving in together followed soon after.
So, he rolls his eyes, pulls his hand from Neil's mouth, and waits for Neil's nod to run his fingers down his chest. Learning Neil's scars has been a particular project of his, wanting to show Neil he wasn't afraid of them. And in turn, he finally let down his own guard to show him what's under his armbands, now not even thinking when he takes them after as he gets ready for bed.
Neil reaches out, too, trailing his fingers through Andrew's hair when he nods. In a moment of vulnerability he's trying to lean into more these days, he scoots closer to Neil, craving his touch and the feel of his lips on his Andrew's face.
Today is one of the rare days where they fell asleep together and woke up together. Between Neil's shifts at the hospital and Andrew's practice and game schedule (and Kevin's insane workout regimen he insists Andrew join him in), their evenings and mornings together are usually rushed or nonexistent. Mornings like this are slowly rewiring his brain and mapping over the bad memories that still crop up far more than he'd like.
Neil's eyes have drifted closed, and his hand is resting softly in Andrew's hair. He's still awake, probably deep in his head, so Andrew flicks his forehead. "What are you thinking about, Josten?"
Neil blinks and smirks. "Just that it's hilarious that Kevin finally got his way this year, and there's an Exy court near the cabin."
Ah yes. The annual trip with the Foxes. Andrew is learning to actually enjoy it more than he did in the past. Neil has something to do with that, of course. Always. And this year, Neil will be there the whole week. He gets to have mornings like this for a whole week.
"Don't remind me," Andrew grumbles, rolling his eyes at the thought of Kevin's haughty face when he told him that the ski resort he found this year has an Exy court.
"You're not going to play with him?" Neil teases, smirking again.
"No. I played with him for the last six months. He'll survive."
Nail bats his eyelashes, and Andrew hates how it makes his stomach flutter. "And will you play with me?"
Immediately, images of Neil running around the court in his tiny little shorts - the ones he knows Neil wears on purpose to rile him up - fill his mind. He knows that Neil knows that Andrew loves it, can't help but pounce as soon as he gets Neil's enthusiastic consent. Sometimes they make it home. Sometimes they only make it to the locker room shower.
"Maybe," Andrew says. Which means yes. Neil knows it, too, from the way he's smiling.
His smile drops a little, and his eyes drift over Andrew's shoulder. Andrew frowns, clocking every little change in body language. Neil's dissociation episodes have been lessening since starting therapy, but they still happen sporadically. And they scare Andrew half to death every time he witnesses them. The near panic attack level anxiety that Neil experiences after leave him shaking and dazed.
The glaze in Neil's eyes propels Andrew into motion. "Josten," he hums, lifting his head off his pillow to watch the fog clear a little. "You with me?" He presses a finger firmly into the scar on Neil's shoulder, and Neil's eyes finally focus on him again.
"Yeah. I'm here."
"Don't disappear on me."
"I won't."
"Promise?" Andrew's not sure where that came from, but he'll the deny the sappiness if Neil ever bugs him about it.
Neil smiles and scratches at Andrew's head. "Promise."