Archive of Our Own

Andrew looked down at the crumpled heap of a boy and knew, he knew, this was not Neil Josten. He knew Neil Josten, intimately. This wasn’t him. 

They talked as long as they could, on their knees, face to face, before the FBI said they had to go. And the whole time, Andrew couldn’t stop thinking This isn’t Neil. 

Something about him, the look in those blue eyes. He was cold, he was calculating. He flinched at every noise and Andrew never seemed to have his full attention. He was always scanning the room with one eye, keeping watch.

Neil Josten was a smartass. He never knew when to keep his mouth shut. He was loud and unashamed and vulgar. 

This boy sitting beside him in the interrogation room, sitting ramrod straight and refusing to acknowledge the blood seeping through his bandages, was not his junkie. He answered every question asked with a flat, dull tone, like he was giving a report. He recounted every moment of his miserable life without a fleck of emotion. 

He couldn’t relax in his cot alone, only falling asleep when Andrew sighed and slid their cots together. Even then, he woke up at every small sound, and kept his hand tucked under his pillow like he was ready to grab something there. A gun, probably. 

Andrew watched him hesitate before he signed the dotted line that officially made him Neil Josten, even as the pigs repeatedly called him Nathaniel. 

In the back of the FBIs’ SUV, Andrew watched the rabbits breathing pick up, watched him grip the door handle like he was ready to jump out at a moment's notice. 

He gripped Neil’s chin between his fingers and met his eyes. “I told Neil Josten to stay. Leave Nathaniel buried in Baltimore.” He ground out. 

Neil’s eyes were wide, pupils blown. He sounded out of breath as he whispered, “What if Neil wasn’t real?” 

Andrew had nothing to say to that stupid question, so he forced Not Neil’s head to rest on his shoulder and let the rest of the ride go in silence. 

-

The simplest, most unnoticeable thing, set Andrew off. 

Not Neil had managed to make it through the Foxes posturing without breaking a sweat, seeming almost Neil-ish at times. He answered every question thrown his way with brutal honesty. He slept in their dog pile and even went out for brunch with everyone. His choice to remain in Palmetto instead of going on the trip Allison was expending was a surprise. His willingness to stay alone was not, the fucking martyr. 

It was an internal war for Andrew. Stay with the very injured junkie, or keep an eye on stupid Kevin. The war was easily won. A quick conversation with Renee and everything was set. He’d even agreed to let the rest of his lot borrow the car, under the condition that Matt be the one to drive it. He’d been ecstatic. Nicky had almost gotten himself stabbed with how much he complained. 

All of that was fine. Not Neil didn’t want to spend a week in the mountains. Whatever. 

But.

Not Neil was smoking cigarettes. 

Neil would take a drag now and then to keep them burning, but he typically just let them burn down, relishing in the smoke. Not Neil was on his fifth cigarette in the past 45 minutes. He hadn’t spoken, either. Normally, they’d sit in silence until Neil got too antsy and started babbling about whatever occupied his mind, which was almost always exy. 

He… he reminded Andrew of himself. At least, of how the rest of the foxes view him. It made him more angry than he wanted to admit. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Andrew snapped. 

Not Neil, to give him credit, did his best not to flinch. “What are you talking about?” God, even his voice sounded different. 

Andrew snatched the cigarette out of Not Neil’s mouth, throwing it over the edge of the roof. “Since when do you actually smoke?”

All he got was a shrug as Not Neil watched the cigarette go fluttering to the ground. 

“You let the rest of the team go on vacation without us.” Andrew tried. 

Yet another shrug. 

“You are a starting striker for the Palmetto State Foxes. You are Number 10. You are Neil Josten.” 

“I buried Neil Josten in that basement.” Not Neil’s voice was rough like gravel. “I said goodbye to him on the drive. Goodbye to the Foxes when he brought out that axe.” He doesn’t mention when he said goodbye to Andrew. They both remembered that. 

Thank you. You were amazing. 

Andrew considered this, his head tilted to one side. “So who are you now, if not Neil?” 

“I don’t know.” Not Neil lit another cigarette and took a long drag. “Maybe I’m nothing.”

-

They had a boring week. Not Neil was not interested in much, though he didn’t ask to go to the court once which was nice. Maybe a little concerning. They mainly watched movies, played video games, or sat in silence and smoked through packs of cigarettes. 

Andrew got the call from Renee in the middle of the night near the end of the week. They were awake, Not Neil was having a hard time sleeping. Apparently, Renee had taken the car for a late night mission to Evermore, where she rescued one Jean Moreau. They were on their way to Abby’s now. 

Andrew looked at Not Neil, who was sitting on the window sill making his way through a pack of cigarettes, and sighed. 

As soon as he hung up with Renee, Andrew called Wymack. 

“What the hell did he do now?” The man’s voice was tired, too tired. It was odd to hear that question asked about anyone other than himself. 

“Nothing yet.” Andrew peaked at Not Neil again. “Renee called. It seems another bird has flown the Nest. They’re on their way to Abby’s.” 

Wymack sighed, and Andrew could envision the way he’d be dragging his hand down his face. “How bad is it?” 

“Moreau is not conscious.” 

Another hefty sigh. “I’ll be there in 15.” 

Andrew snapped the phone shut and looked at Not Neil again. Surprisingly, he already had his attention. 

“Jean is hurt?” It was the most emotion Andrew had gotten out of him since they got home. Not Neil looked just about ready to jump out the window if it meant getting to Moreau sooner. 

Jealousy was a useless, ugly emotion… and yet. 

“Yes.” Andrew ground out. “Kengo died. Riko lost it.” 

Not Neil was nodding, barely grimacing at the pull on his facial wounds. “Wymack is coming to get us?” 

Andrew nodded. “We don’t have to go-“ 

“No!” Not Neil was up from his perch in the window now, already searching for his shoes. “We have to go. Jean is my partner, I have to help.” 

And that stopped Andrew short. Jean is my partner. He watched Nathaniel pull on his Converse, and suddenly this made a lot more sense. 

The way he was moving as if his wounds didn’t bother him. The change in demeanor. The self-imposed isolation.  The vague grip on his own identity. And now this apparent worry for Jean.

This was Nathaniel Wesninski. This was the boy who’d grown up in a mansion with a serial killer. This was the boy who faced what felt like three weeks in the Nest. 

Andrew felt sick. 

He was no stranger to mental illness. He’d been dealing with it most of his life. But this? This was not something he knew how to handle. Whatever was happening in Nathaniel’s brain, it wasn’t something Andrew was familiar with. 

Apparently he’d stayed stuck in his thoughts for too long because when he blinked, Nathaniel was in front of him. His blue eyes were impossibly wide as he stared at Andrew, something akin to concern creeping across his face. 

“Drew?” He sounded wrecked. 

“You go with Wymack, I need to call Bee.” 

-

“It sounds like he may be in a dissociative episode.” 

Andrew huffed and scribbled that down in his notebook. “Elaborate.” 

“Well, I can’t tell you for certain, Andrew. I haven’t spoken to him, or seen him. But if I had to guess, he’s in shock. The last time he was in this amount of pain, he wasn’t ‘Neil Josten’. He was Nathaniel, or whatever name he was going by. Neil Josten has never dealt with this sort of pain, maybe he can’t handle it. Maybe this other version of him can. It could be how his brain is coping with the recent trauma.” He heard Bee take a sip of something over the phone. Usually, it would be hot chocolate. But due to the late timing of this call, Andre was willing to bet it was coffee. He had a mug of his own cooling beside him. 

“What, does he have some fucking personality disorder?” It wouldn’t be hard to imagine. What had Neil said? 22 different names in eight years? 

“I don’t know, Andrew. And I think that’s quite an insensitive thing to say considering your own diagnosis.” 

Andrew almost crushed the phone in his hand. 

“How do I fix him?” He ground out. 

Bee hummed on the line. She’s much too relaxed about this. “You can’t. You know as well as I do that there is no ‘fixing’ him. He needs time, he needs to heal.”

“So what the fuck am I supposed to do?”

“Exactly what you’ve been doing. Be there for him, help him. Keep calling him Neil unless he asks otherwise. Try to go about normal life. I have a feeling that once he heals a bit, and his body recognizes that it’s no longer in danger, he’ll come back to himself. For now, you have to be patient.” 

Andrew is silent for a minute, thinking this over. He scribbles everything down in his notebook to look over later, to show Neil once he gets better. 

Finally, he gets his words together. “This isn’t how I imagined Nathaniel would be.” 

“How do you mean?” 

When Andrew had first heard the name Nathaniel in that stupid airport, he’d had an idea in his head of who he was. He’d seen the manic smile Neil tried so hard to hide, the edge of violence in his voice and step when someone got too close to one of his precious Foxes. Of course, that idea changed drastically when he found out who Neil’s parents really were, who they were connected with, and got the full aspects of his childhood. He thought Nathaniel was… well… Nathan. 

He was most definitely not his father. 

“He’s… he’s almost codependent. He can’t sleep in the bed alone. He won’t eat unless he knows I’m eating too. He won’t eat more than me. He doesn’t like to be alone, yet he refused to go on the trip with everyone else. I expected someone dangerous. I was ready to get stabbed when I realized it wasn’t him, I wasn’t ready to have him ask to hold my hand.” 

Bee thought it over, probably running over what she knew of what happened to Neil, before speaking. “Neil spent eight years alone with his mother, right? She’s probably all he had before that, too. Then at Edgar Allen, he presumably had Jean. He’s had someone close to him for some very painful parts of his life. It’s what he’s used to.” She took a moment to get the words right, “I have no doubt that he could be very dangerous. If given a reason. You haven’t given him a reason.” 

So don’t give him a reason was left unsaid. 

Andrew had nothing left to say, so he let them lapse into comfortable silence. 

-

He’d just finished cleaning his mug out when his phone rang again. 

“What?” He snapped into the phone. 

“Minyard. Renee is on her way to get you, you need to get your ass here. He’s freaking out.” Wymack, for once, sounded panicked. There was some shouting in the background, Andrew heard what vaguely sounded like ‘Get the fuck away from us.’ 

Great. 

Andrew held the phone between his ear and shoulder as he rushed to grab his shoes and dorm keys. 

“What the fuck happened?” 

-

When he got to Abbys, Andrew didn’t even wait for the car to stop moving before he opened the car door. The front door was helpfully unlocked when he got to it and he’d been in the guest room that Abby used for medical purposes often enough, it was easy to sprint up the stairs. 

Abby and Wymack were standing outside the shut door, both of them looking worse for wear. Wymacks left eye was already starting to turn an ugly shade of black and blue, and he had a long cut on his other cheek. Beside him, Abby’s face was covered in claw marks. 

They both looked up with relief when Andrew approached. 

“Did you give the kid a fucking knife?” The coach sounded absolutely pissed. 

Wymack was perhaps the only other person aware of Not Neil, of Nathaniel. He’d clocked it almost immediately, and pulled Andrew aside as soon as he’d had the chance. He knew as well as Andrew did that Nathaniel should not have a weapon right now. 

Andrew shook his head and reached for his arm bands. He was missing a knife. The fucking asshole had managed to steal one of his knives. Anger immediately spotted his vision, and he had a blade in his hand in a matter of seconds. 

But. You haven’t given him a reason. 

Don’t give him a reason. 

In Nathaniel’s fucked up little brain, Wymack and Abby had done something to be perceived as threats. He was defending himself. 

Andrew could not give Nathaniel a reason. 

Silently, he drew the rest of the blades and handed them over to Wymack. 

“Go downstairs, clean up. We’ll be fine.” 

In the bedroom, Andrew found Jean laying on the bed with a piece of cloth in his mouth. On his knees beside Jean, sat Nathaniel. He had Abby’s huge med kit sat open beside him, Andrews’ knife tucked behind his ear in that stupid orange bandana, and was whispering in French as he stitched Moreau up. 

Nathaniel looked up when Andrew came in, one hand reaching up for his knife. He looked from Andrews’ face, to his armbands. His eyes narrowed for a second, then softened slightly when he realized Andrew was weaponless. 

He walked forward carefully, trying to act normal. He wasn’t scared, he had no reason to be. But he didn’t know what exactly Wymack and Abby had done to upset Nathaniel, and he wasn’t going to make the same mistake. 

The redhead was already back to his work, dismissing Andrew. He wondered if that was it, if Abby had tried to help Jean and it set Nathaniel off. He remembered the hotel room in Baltimore, remembered threatening Abby when she dared to take a step towards them. He understood. 

It was almost comical watching Nathaniel work. He had hardly started healing himself. His hands were still wrapped up in gauze, though that didn’t seem to impede his ability to pull a needle through Moreaus’ side. 

Moreau was conscious, but barely. He regarded Andrew with half lidded eyes and as much of a sneer as he could manage behind his gag and swollen eyes. He looked like a cut up piece of meat. It wasn’t very intimidating. 

Andrew didn’t quite know what to do, where to go. He migrated to Nathaniel’s side, keeping his hands to himself. 

“Do you need any help?” He asked. 

Nathaniel contemplated for a second before nodding. 

“Can you start bandaging what I’ve already stitched up? Easier with two people.” 

Andrew didn’t bother asking why he hadn’t let Abby stay then, if it was easier with two of them. 

So they sat together on the bed and put Moreau back together. Eventually, the French man passed out from his pain. Nathaniel didn’t look concerned, in fact he seemed to relax a bit. He didn’t look at Andrew, but he started talking. 

“Are Coach and Abby okay?” He asked quietly. 

“They’ll live. Mind explaining why you have my knife.” 

Nathaniel froze for a second, one hand drifting up to the short blade tucked behind his ear, then he sighed. “I should have asked. I didn’t think you’d give me one.” 

“You’re right, I wouldn’t have.” Andrew said. 

“Because I’m dangerous? Because you know who my father is now and you don’t trust me to not be just like him?” Nathaniel’s voice was suddenly like ice, though he still wouldn’t look at Andrew.

“No.” Andrew ground out. “You’ve always been dangerous. Right now, you are having an identity crisis.” He didn’t give Nathaniel time to deny it, and kept plowing on. “On a good day, Neil could barely  look at my knives. On a bad day, he couldn’t even touch a plastic one. You are Not Neil, you’re  Nathaniel. I’ll keep calling you Neil until he comes back, but right now, you are not him. I wouldn’t give Neil a knife right now, so I wouldn’t give you one either.” 

Nathaniel went still. “How’d you know?” He whispered. “Who I am?”

Andrew shrugged. “I knew something was off the second I saw you in that hotel. I knew who I was looking at when you called Jean your partner.” 

“Neil doesn’t like Jean.” 

“Jean reminds Neil of a time he’d rather not think about.”

Nathaniel snorted. “Neil was barely there for that. He stuck around long enough to get beaten unconscious with a cane and then left.” 

Andrew tilted his head. “Did he leave, or did you force him out?” 

He didn’t get a response to that. 

Nathaniel was content to stay quiet after that, so they did their work in silence. After 20 minutes, he spoke again. 

“You can call me Nathaniel. You don’t have to call me Neil. He’s not- I’m not him.”

Andrew nodded, and they went back to work. 

Near the end, there was a soft knock on the door. Nathaniel tensed again, hand twitching towards the knife. 

“It’s just Renee.” Andrew shushed. “I have to talk to her before she leaves.” 

The idiot didn’t relax, but he also didn’t protest, so Andrew got up and headed for the door. He didn’t let Renee in, opting to step out and shut the door behind him. 

“How is he?” Renee asked quietly. 

“Moreau will heal. He’s all patched up.” 

“You know that’s not what I mean. How’s Neil?” 

Andrew thought about what he should tell her, what she should tell the others. It was Renee’s job to keep the rest of the team safe, she needed to know the facts. 

“You need to keep the upperclassmen away from him. Tell them to keep their distance.” He settled on. 

Renee frowned. “I don’t know if they’ll listen.”

“Make them listen. You saw what he did to Coach and Abby.”

“You think he’ll hurt the team?”

“I don’t know what he’ll do.” Andrew snapped. “He handled them well enough before they left, but it’s getting harder. It’s your job to keep them safe, so do it.” 

Renee nodded once, and then she was gone. 

-

Wymack gave them a ride back to the dorms an hour later, after Nathaniel had Abby promise not to touch Jean unless he was awake and aware enough to consent to it. He still had the knife, though Andrew had no idea where he was hiding it. The sweats he was wearing were too loose to properly hold on against his skin, so maybe it was in his sock. Andrew thought he should probably take it back, but that could wait. 

Nathaniel refused to look at Wymack the entire ride. They had taken Abby’s car, Nathaniel wasn’t healed enough to haul himself into the bed of Wymacks truck yet. He was in the backseat, sitting ramrod straight as he watched the world fly by out the window. Coach glanced at him through the rearview mirror a few times, but never spoke. 

When they made it back to the dorm, Nathaniel went straight to the shower. He was covered in blood, a mix of Jeans and his own. He’d been picking at his wounds, Andrew knew, refusing to let them scab over. 

Andrew couldn’t judge him for that. He’d done it plenty himself. The scaring would be worse, but it would have been bad either way. 

While Nathaniel showered, Andrew went about baby-proofing the dorm. He took the knife block, and anything potentially sharp, and moved them to Matt’s room. Nathaniel still had the knife, but removing any other sharp object is probably the best move. Technically, Matt’s dorm was Nathaniel’s dorm too, but he hadn’t been in there once during the last week, and Andrew didn’t see that changing. He’d have to switch with Aaron for a while. 

Thinking of Aaron had Andrew's gut turning. As much as he couldn’t admit it out loud, Neil- Nathaniel- whoever- was a violation of their deal. He couldn’t deny it after the past week, after his reaction in that hotel room. They both knew it, even if he couldn’t say it. Aaron, he was sure, would have plenty to say about it. 

By the time Andrew had stashed away anything weapon-like, and had his mental conversation with Aaron about his Not-Relationship with Not-Neil, Nathaniel was done showering. He was waiting on the window sill, dressed only  in Andrews sweatpants and socks, redressing his wounds. 

Andrew didn’t acknowledge him and headed towards the bathroom for his own shower. If Nathaniel was feeling independent at the moment, Andrew would take advantage of it. 

He turned the shower on to get the water heated up again and started his routine. Face wash, hair mask, shaving. He took his time in the shower, letting the boiling water ease the tension in his muscles. 

When he was done and yanked the curtain back, he froze. The bathroom had fogged up from the heat of his shower, a thick layer of steam coating the room. The mirror was what caught his attention. 

Nathaniel must have done it after his own shower, while the mirror was fogged. It had reappeared during Andrews. 

Neil Josten. 

It was written in the condensation on the mirror dozens of times in neat lines. 

Neil Josten Neil Josten Neil Josten Neil Josten

Andrew finished his post shower routine in a rush, a bad feeling settling in his gut. When he opened the bathroom door, still wet with only a towel around his waist, he heard noises in the living area. 

Stalking out, Andrew found Nathaniel sitting hunched at his desk, scribbling away in his notebook. He came up behind him, sure to make his footsteps heavy. Nathaniel must have been a bit out of it, or maybe he knew it was Andrew, as he didn’t even look up. 

There were multiple broken pens spread across the desk, inking running everywhere. Nathaniel’s fingers were stained in it. He watched as Nathaniel hastily scribbled his name over and over and over again across the pages of his book. Underneath the dozens of ‘Nathaniel Wesninski’s was a layer of ‘Neil Josten’s. As if he was trying to cover them up. He was going so hard the pages were ripped in places.

It should have been the most worrying part of the whole ordeal. 

But. Nathaniel was crying. 

-

They didn’t talk about it. 

Andrew had gently (more gentle than he’d ever been) taken the pen from Nathaniel’s hand and set it off to the side. He’d gotten him up, washed his hands of the ink, redone the stained bandages, and helped him into the bright orange sweatshirt Neil treasured. Then sat him back on the windowsill while Andrew got dressed. 

Now they were on the roof, a relatively safe distance from the ledge, chain smoking. The sun was starting to come up. Another sleepless night for the both of them. Nathaniel had forced himself to stop crying, a rare tear slipping down his cheeks now and then. 

Andrew wouldn’t be the one to bring it up. If Nathaniel wanted to talk about it, he could, and he’d listen. But that was his decision. 

When Nathaniel did speak, it wasn’t about his notebook. “I’m keeping the knife.” He said. 

“No.”

“Yes. Renee offered them to us before.” Nathaniel argued. 

Us? 

“How come you know everything Neil knows, but Neil doesn’t know everything you know?”

Nathaniel thought on that, and Andrew found himself wondering, not for the first time, what exactly was going on in that brain. 

“Neil is… not equipped to handle everything.” He said slowly.

“And you are?” 

“Yes.” 

Andrew snorted. “Oh, so the whole thing with the notebook and the mirror was ‘handling everything’?” 

Nathaniel balled his fists. “Neil is strong, and he’s brave. I’ll give him that. But he’s stupid. He has the survival instincts of a fucking deer. He’d run into traffic without a second glance. He got us in the fucking Nest for Gods sake. He got us caught. There is too much going on right now for him to be around. But,” He paused to relight his cigarette. “He wants to come back. He’s fighting. If I let him come back now, he’ll fuck everything up.” 

There it was again. Us. He’s fighting. US. 

“What is there to fuck up? You lived.” Andrew said. 

“Yeah, we lived. For now. No one knows when Ichirou will make up his fucking mind on whether we get to stay alive. If we need to bargain, I need to do that. Not Neil.” Nathaniel sounded like he was starting to get angry, but Andrew always was one to push. 

“So you’ll let him come back once that’s settled.” 

Nathaniel was silent. 

“This isn’t your life, Nathaniel. It’s Neil’s. He’s put a lot of work into building it. You can’t take that from him.” 

“Don’t you think I know that?” The boy hissed. “He’s getting what the rest of us only dreamt of. I think I deserve to enjoy it a little bit longer.”

“What exactly are you enjoying? You’re beaten to a pulp, the Foxes make you nervous, you don’t want to go anywhere. From where I sit, there’s nothing to enjoy.”

“You.” Nathaniel spat out. “I get to enjoy you. I get to be with you. Neil remembers some things about being on the run with Mary, but not everything. Do you know how many times she beat me for even looking at other people too long? I’ve kissed one boy before, Andrew. One! I could barely walk after she found out. I thought she was going to kill me. Whatever the fuck you and Neil have going on, it’s something I couldn’t even dream about without getting beat. I don’t care if you won’t kiss me because I’m not him. Because you don’t think I know the difference between yes and no. I get to sit next to you, and talk to you, and share cigarettes with you. That is enough for me while I try to keep Neil alive, for you.” 

Andrew couldn’t say anything. What was there to say? The conversation had somehow turned from Nathaniels’ identity crisis to his… what? Affection for Andrew? He didn’t even have it in him to deny the thing between him and Neil. The idea that one of the factors keeping Nathaniel around was Andrew was unthinkable. 

When Andrew took too long to respond, Nathaniel shook his head and stood. “I’m going to the court. Get some sleep, you look like shit.” 

The rooftop door slammed shut behind him before Andrew could argue. 

-

Unfortunately, due to his deal with Kevin, Andrew didn’t see much of Nathaniel when the rest of the team got back. He’d already slacked off enough by choosing to stay in Palmetto. So Andrew was stuck on the Kevin Protection Detail while Nathaniel went off with Wymack. It was risky, but Nathaniel was doing a much better job at being Neil today. 

He hadn’t come back from the court until 30 minutes before everyone else arrived at the tower. He’d taken a quick shower, redressed his wounds, and faced the upperclassmen in typical Neil Josten style. Not a single one of them believed his series of I’m fines, and they made that known, but he took it in stride. It was startlingly different from his previous behavior. 

Then they’d taken Kevin to Abbys’ to see Jean, him and Nathaniel disappearing into the bedroom while Andrew stayed back to talk to Wymack. 

“He still have that knife?”

“He won’t use it.”

Wymack hummed, his hand automatically going to the bandage on his face. “I have to take him to talk to the board.”

“He’s doing a very good Neil impression today. He’ll be fine.” Andrew said.

“Are you ever going to explain what exactly is wrong with him?” Wymack asked.

Andrew shrugged. “He said he’ll be back to normal soon.”

Wymack grunted, and that was that.

-

Monday meant classes. They all got up, got dressed, and went their separate ways. Nathaniel looked… anxious. It was clear that he was trying to hide it, and the fact that he was failing meant the anxiety must’ve been bad. But he didn’t say anything to Andrew, and Andrew didn’t ask. 

He didn’t hear from Nathaniel until after all his classes were over. Just a simple text informing Andrew that Nathaniel and Kevin needed a ride to Abbys to speak with Jean. 

While he’d been in class, Andrews’ special package had come in. Maybe it was stupid, maybe Nathaniel or Neil wouldn’t wear them. But having the option was always nice. 

He grabbed the package and waited by his car for the two strikers to show. They made for quite a sight. Nathaniel walked with purpose, danger showing clear in every step. Kevin trailed behind him, looking scared and lost. Great.

Andrew had planned to zone out of the conversation with Jean, until he heard the name. Ichirou. Nathaniel looked back to make sure Andrew was listening before he started his story. By the end, the room was tense.

“It’s not a pardon and it’s not really freedom, but it’s protection. We’re assets for the main family now. The King’s lost all his men and there’s nothing he can do about it without crossing his brother. We’re safe- for good.”

And wasn’t that the biggest lie of all. The three of them would never be safe. One accident could take them off the court forever, and their contracts would be null. But, Andrew supposed, it was as safe as they could get. 

Nathaniel seemed to decide that he didn’t need to be there for Kevin and Jeans’ cry fest, so Andrew opened the door and walked out, listening to the soft click of the door shutting as Nathaniel followed him. When he felt a tug on his sleeve, Andrew turned to face him. 

“How does it feel to sell yourself out?” Andrew asked. 

“Worth every penny.” Nathaniel said. “I don’t care about money, neither does Neil. He gets to have his future now. That’s all he cares about.”

“And what about you?” 

Nathaniel frowned. “What about me?”

“What do you care about?” He asked.

The redhead was quiet for a second before he said, “Neil. All I’ve ever done is care about Neil. And you, now.” There was another pause. “You need to find something, Andrew. Something to hold on to. Neil’s safe, Kevin won’t need your protection anymore. Nicky is gonna go back to Germany to be with Erik. Aaron has Katelyn. What are you going to live for?”

“Aaron doesn’t have Katelyn.” Andrew said immediately. 

Nathaniel didn’t try to argue. He contemplated his words for a second, head tilting to the side as he made up his mind. “I am asking you, as someone whose sole purpose is to make sure Neil lives, to choose him. Choose us.”

Andrew didn’t have anything to say to that, so he thrust the package at Nathaniel's chest and walked away.

-

During the day, Nathaniel didn’t argue against being benched. He sat and watched his videos and wrote notes without complaint. 

Night practice, however, was a different story. 

“I’m not letting you do this.” Kevin said, arms crossed. 

Nathaniel kept grabbing his gear from his locker, “And how do you plan on stopping me?” 

When Kevin looked to Andrew for backup, Andrew just sighed and moved towards his own locker for his gear. Kevin stared between them both for a second before throwing his hands up and going for his own gear. 

He grumbled something in French to which Nathaniel responded in English. “Oh yeah, go snitch to mommy and daddy.” 

Kevin’s head snapped around to gape at him, but Nathaniel just continued changing out like nothing had happened. 

Andrew had to admit, it was a little amusing. 

Not as amusing as the look on Kevin’s face when Nathaniel jogged out onto the court and took up a backliner position. 

“What are you doing?” Kevin hissed. 

Nathaniel ignored him and sunk down into a ready position. His hands curled around the stick of his racquet, and he thumped the base of it down against the ground once. 

Before Kevin could argue again, Andrew swung his racquet and launched the ball down the field. Nathaniel shouldered his way past Kevin and then they were off. 

It was fascinating to watch, and watch is all Andrew really did. Not once did Kevin get around Nathaniel to try and score. Kevin was getting more and more frustrated, shouting out what Andrew was sure were French curse words. Nathaniel remained silent and expressionless the whole time, face blank and eyes empty. He was playing rough, checking Kevin in ways that would be illegal had this been an actual game. He was playing like a Raven.

By the time Kevin called it quits, he and Nathaniel were soaked in sweat. Andrew had taken to sitting criss-cross applesauce in the goal, racquet across his lap. 

Nathaniel left the court as soon as Kevin made it known that he was done, walking off like a robot. When the court door shut behind him, Kevin walked up to Andrew. He sank to the floor beside him, gently laying his racquet to the side. 

“What the fuck was that?” Kevin asked, breathless. 

Andrew sighed. “That was Nathaniel.”

Kevin’s eyes snapped over to meet Andrews, a crease forming between his brows. “What?” 

“I haven’t seen Neil since the FBI brought him back. That is Nathaniel.” 

“Nathaniel…” Kevin trailed off. “Is he… okay?” 

Andrew snorted. “Of course not.”

-

Tuesday came with its own struggles. 

Nathaniel appeared outside of Andrews last class just as it was being let out. His nose had a smear of blood beneath it, and the bandages on his right hand were stained through with blood. The look he gave Andrew could’ve frozen hell. 

“Keep your idiot fucking brother in line, Andrew.” Nathaniel hissed. “He tries this shit again, he’ll end up with more than a broken nose.” 

Andrew grabbed the front of Nathaniels’ shirt, hauled him away from the students still spilling out of the classroom, and threw him into an empty classroom. Once the door was safely closed behind them, Andrew rounded on Nathaniel, who was pacing lines into the floor a few feet away. 

“You hit my brother?”

“A few times.”

Andrew gritted his teeth. “You know what happens to people who put their hands on my things.”

“Do you want to find out what happens to people who accuse me, who accuse Neil of being a rapist?” Nathaniel stopped pacing and turned to face Andrew directly. “I promise it’s worse than whatever you’ll do to me.” 

What? Andrew stood frozen, mind racing. Aaron accused Neil of what? He knew Aaron would’ve put the pieces together by now, his brother wasn’t that stupid. He’d been kicked out of his own dorm so Nathaniel could move in. But to go after Neil directly, to accuse him of something like that. He didn’t know his brother was capable. 

“He said what?”

“He asked if I take my cues from dead men. Something about seeing what Drake did to you and thinking you were an easy target.” Nathaniel swiped away the bit of blood that had started falling from his nose again. “Take care of it, or I will.”

And then he was gone, leaving Andrew alone to wonder what the fuck had just happened.

That night, Kevin appeared in the living room and demanded to be taken to the court, Andrew heaved himself out of his beanbag to take him. Nathaniel didn’t say anything, but followed close behind them. 

Kevin didn’t try and argue when Nathaniel followed him to the locker room to get changed out, so Andrew continued on to the court. He took a seat on the home bench. There was nothing he could do to make Nathaniel take it easy, and if tonight was anything like the night before there was no reason for Andrew to be out there. 

However it seemed Nathaniel wasn’t interested in annoying Kevin tonight. He stepped onto the court first and went towards the away team's goal to start setting up drills. Kevin followed shortly after with a bucket and went to stand on the half court line. 

They were both pathetic. Junkies. 

Andrew watched them both take shots on opposite goals, eyes going back and forth. Once Kevin ran out of balls, he used the butt of his racquet to pull some back to him. He stared at the goal for a minute, looked behind him at Nathaniel, then switched his racquet to his left hand. Andrew sat forward, watching intently as Kevin scooped up a ball. He shot it at the goal, missed, and scooped up another ball. Another miss. It took him five tries before he got it in goal, and he didn’t miss a single one after.

With a quirk to his lips, Andrew got up and headed to the locker room to get dressed. So it was finally getting interesting.

-

Therapy with Aaron on Wednesday was a mess. The whole time Aaron was whining, Nathaniels’ words from Monday replayed in Andrews’ head. 

“Choose him. Choose us.”

And then “You can’t be brothers while you are each other's jailers.”

Bee was officially marked a traitor, and Aaron was, finally, just his brother. 

Which meant as soon as they left the office, Andrew decked Aaron hard across the face.

“You ever, ever, talk to Neil again the way you did yesterday, I will let him loose on you. I do not need your fucked up idea of a shovel talk.”

-

On Thursday, Andrew met Nathaniel outside of his classroom. He looked at him once, then turned and headed off towards the library, knowing Nathaniel would follow. He was content to tag along in silence, which Andrew was silently grateful for. He had too much going on to maintain a conversation with Nathaniel right now. 

He let them remain silent until they were halfway up the staircase to the second floor of the library. Then he turned and held his arms out to Nathaniel. “Take this, or else I’ll use them.” 

Nathaniel looked Andrew in his eyes and tilted his head like a lost puppy. He slowly moved his hands up to Andrews’ snaking his palms across Andrews’ until they gripped the edge of his bands. He gently tugged them off and held them in his hands as if he was contemplating their weight. Instead of shoving them in his bag, like Andrew expected, Nathaniel rolled up his sleeves and pulled the bands over his own arms. 

Andrew tracked the movements with his eyes, swallowing loudly. Admittedly, it was a little hot to see Nathaniel wear his blades so casually. He still wasn’t sure where Nathaniel was keeping the one he’d stolen, but he was sure he’d find out eventually. Eventually, Andrew realized he was staring, so he turned back around and continued his march up the stairs. 

After the cheerleader had been dealt with, Andrew led Nathaniel out onto the balcony overlooking the schools’ pond. Nathaniel stopped when he did and reluctantly slid the bands off his arms to hand them over. 

Once Andrew had them back where they belong, Nathaniel spoke. “Can I take a turn in your truth game?”

Andrew hummed. “Depends. Will you answer whatever I ask honestly?”

“Of course.” Nathaniel said. “I’ve never lied to you, Andrew. That’s all Neil.” Andrew kept quiet, so Nathaniel asked, “How old were you? The first time?”

Without hesitating Andrew said, “Seven. I was seven.” He froze after, unsure how he’d said it so easily. He’d never, ever, told anyone that before. Not even Bee. And why did Nathaniel even want to know? Looking to hit as deep as he’d been, Andrew spat out, “How old were you the first time he cut you?” 

Nathaniel stiffened but answered immediately. “Mary told me he started as soon as I could walk. She said she found me in the basement one time, playing with a knife while my father cut up a man a few feet away. I was 18 months, maybe? She told me that's when she knew I was going to turn out just like him.”

Mary. That’s interesting. 

“Not as much of a mommys’ boy as Neil is?” Andrew asked.

Nathaniel barked out a laugh. “God no. She was almost as bad as Nathan in certain ways. Neil could never accept that. Mary was like a savior to him, no matter how much she hurt us.”

Andrew hummed. “Did she know how much it fucked you up? Being a new person every few months?”

“Oh I’m sure she did. Whether she cared was a completely different matter. As long as I wasn’t bleeding out or risking us getting caught, she didn’t care much about what was going on with me. I tried telling her once. We were Zach, at the time. Zach did not approve of telling Mary. Anyway, she tried to beat it out of me. Never brought it up again.” 

“Are they all still up there?” Andrew gestured towards Nathaniel's head. “All the people you’ve had to be?”

Nathaniel shook his head. “No. Its me, Abram, and Neil. Abram usually conforms to whoever we need. But I guess that was too hard after Mary died. So, we got Neil. He’s barely even the Neil we put together anymore. Neil was supposed to be quiet and unassuming, just like the rest of them. Instead, he runs his mouth every damn chance he gets. Abram’s usually so good at keeping it all separate.” Nathaniel shook his head. “Neil Josten, the way he was supposed to be, would have lasted much longer if Kevin hadn’t gotten involved.” 

Andrew frowned. “Kevin?” What did Kevin have to do with Nathaniel’s fucked up brain?

“Kevin.” Nathaniel agreed. “Abram has always had a soft spot for Kevin. Why do you think we have a whole binder filled with pictures of him? We could have made that binder about anything, and Abram picked Kevin. Neil and Abram may as well be the same person at this point. Even when they knew we were going to die, they cared that Kevin would live on. Idiots.”

“And you? What’s your opinion of Kevin.” 

Nathaniel snorted. “He’s a fucking coward who needs to get his shit together. He’s scared. Hes the best striker in the NCAA with more potential than he knows. And he’s also traumatized. If he would just listen to us for one fucking second.”

Yeah, that sounded about right. 

Done with the questions for now, Andrew started walking back to the dorms, Nathaniel once again following behind him. They almost made it there when he thought of another question, an important one. He slowed his pace so he was walking beside Nathaniel.

“Who decided to go to the Nest for me? You or Neil.”

Nathaniel didn’t stagger, didn’t flinch, but he did tense up a bit. “I can blame Neil for that all I want, but it was a collective decision.” he huffed out a laugh. “I don’t know if I can even call it a decision. There never was any choice there. We had to try.” 

“Why?” Andrew asked. It made no sense to him. Nathaniel had already said many times now that his whole existence is about protecting Neil. So why put him in considerable danger for Andrew.

Nathaniel stopped walking and turned to look Andrew in the eyes. “You told him to take responsibility for what happened with Drake. Did you think he’d just let that go? Our whole life has been about leaving things behind. We weren’t about to leave you behind too. You were right. It was time to take responsibility.” 

And wasn’t that just the stupidest thing Andrew had ever heard. “I was drugged out of my mind when I said that. You shouldn’t have taken it to heart.” 

All he got in response was a shrug. “It’s in the past now. We made our choices, and we’re living with them.”

Nathaniel started walking again, but Andrew stayed behind. He needed to hit something, or drink something. He pulled out his phone and dialed Renee's number.

-

Friday meant a game. Kevin, unsurprisingly, took the court right handed. 

Nathaniel was giving him a judgemental look as they lined up to head onto the court, though Dan must’ve mistaken it for worry. 

“We’ve got this.” She said with a grin. At Nathaniel's nod, she headed out to the court. 

Before Andrew stepped out, he turned to give Nathaniel a look that he hoped would scare him into sitting his ass down on the bench. Nathaniel rolled his eyes, but he went and took a seat anyway. 

Good. Andrew didn’t have to worry about the idiot for now. The Bearcats thought this would be an easy game, he wouldn’t give it to them. 

At halftime, Andrew ignored the party plans the rest of the team were making. He didn’t look up when Aaron mentioned the cheerleader, continuing to stare into space. 

Of course Aaron would flaunt her around as soon as he was able. Whatever. They’d both made their choices. Andrew would be ready and waiting with his ‘I told you so” when Aaron came crying back. 

Despite the other team's violence, the Foxes won. 

It was Kevin's turn to deal with the press, but he gestured to Nathaniel to come over as well. He took up post right behind Kevin, ready to redirect any questions. After giving the press his best camera ready smile, Kevin motioned for Andrew to come over as well. 

Andrew stood beside Neil, but refused to look at the reporters. He’d never given them any attention before, and he certainly wasn’t going to start now that Kevin had grown a spine. 

The interview started with normal post-game questions, which Andrew tuned out. But then they brought up Edgar Allens, and Andrew snapped to attention as Kevin spoke. It was too much all at once for the reporters, but they’d put it together soon enough. He started hard at Kevin as he finished speaking, and followed close behind him as he left. 

Kevin seemed to be nearing some kind of breakdown as he walked into the locker room. He went up to the sink and gripped the porcelain like he wanted to snap it in half. 

“We’re all gonna die.” He finally said. 

“No, we’re not. Nathaniel said. 

Kevin took some time to think that over, staring at his reflection for so long Andrew almost wanted to tell him to take a picture. Eventually, he lifted a hand from the sink edge and placed it on the mirror, covering the tattoo on his cheek. It sent an odd shiver down Kevins shoulders. After a second, he nodded and turned back towards Andrew and Nathaniel. 

“We have a lot of work to do.” He said to the both of them . 

Andrew decided to throw him a bone. “Tomorrow.” He said, and purposefully ignored the way Nathaniel looked at him. 

Kevin accepted that with a nod, and he and Andrew headed for the showers. 

-

Andrew would rather pull all of his fingernails out than hang around with the Foxes and Vixens, so he stole a bottle and went back to his dorm. 

He wasn’t waiting for Nathaniel. For all he cared, Nathaniel could spend the night hanging out with the upperclassmen. It didn’t matter to Andrew. Not one bit. 

Still, he let out a breath of relief when the dorm room opened and Nathaniel shuffled into the living room. He dropped a dorm key on Andrews lap with a frown. 

“What is this?”

Andrew didn’t look at him. “A dorm key.” 

Nathaniel huffed and sank into the bean bag beside Andrew. He took the bottle of vodka Andrew had and took a big gulp from it. 

“Why do I have it?” He asked after swallowing. 

“You told me to take care of it, I did.” 

They were quiet for a while, the only sounds being Nathaniel's occasional pull from the bottle. 

Eventually, Nathaniel looked at him. “Thank you.”

In response, Andrew glared at him and snagged the bottle back. “I hate you.”

And Nathaniel laughed. 

-

Saturday, Nathaniel and Aaron packed their things to switch rooms. 

Andrew stayed in the bedroom for the most part, letting them move about uninterrupted. So he didn’t hear when Wymack showed up with Thea in tow. He only knew something was going on by the crash. 

He’d known about Thea longer than anyone else on the team. Kevin had fessed up pretty quickly. Seemed like a pretty shitty romance to Andrew. They hadn’t spoken to each other in almost a year. But as long as she kept her hands to herself, it wasn’t any of Andrews’ business. 

He tuned out most of the theatrics, up until Wymack tossed a ring of keys at his feet. 

“Kevin said to give you those.” 

Andrew bent down and picked them up, staring at the keys in his hand for a second before pocketing them. Nathaniel wisely kept his mouth shut. 

This didn’t mean anything. It didn’t change anything. 

It was just a set of keys. 

-

The Trojans game had everyone on edge. They were facing the second best team in the nation. Kevin was the only one of them that didn’t look scared shitless. 

Andrew would never openly admit it, but there was something buzzing under his skin, something humming in his ears. He’d like to blame it on the nervous energy left over from the plane ride over, but he knew better. He wanted to win this game. 

The buzzing never died down. In fact, it grew louder as Captain Sunshine explained the Trojans’ idea. It was an insane idea. They’d never win like this. 

The Foxes were going to win. 

-

They put up a good fight. But, as expected, the Trojans lost. 

The next week, they lost again against the Ravens.

Against all odds, the Foxes were going on to Finals.

-

After the Trojans v Ravens game, they all went to Columbia. 

Nathaniel had been unsure at first. Andrew was ready for him to say no, to tell the group it would be another night getting drunk in the dorms. But eventually, after pacing lines into the dorm floor, Nathaniel threw his hands up. 

“Whatever. We’ll go. But I’m not drinking anything Roland makes. And I’m dressing myself.”

-

Surprisingly, Nathaniel actually did a great job at dressing himself. He came out of the bathroom in a pair of ripped, black skinny jeans. His shirt was also black, snug across his shoulders but loose around his torso. It also appeared to be cropped. And the arm bands. 

Andrew looked away after a moment, sure the attraction would show on his face. He tried to put on a blank mask and gave Nathaniel an approving nod. 

When they got to Edens, Andrew had the rest go in before him per usual. By the time he made it inside, the group still hadn’t found a table. They were all huddled by the bar. Andrew slid up behind Nathaniel, chest almost touching his back. He’d barely been there a minute before Roland started up his shit again. 

Nicky's reaction was expected, as was Aarons. Nathaniel locked up though, his whole body going stiff. He turned around to face Andrew. “I’m going to find us a table. Don’t let him pour me a single fucking drink.” And then he was gone. 

It took very little convincing to get Roland to give Andrew a whole bottle to bring back with them. And by ‘very little convincing’, Andrew means a slip of the knife in his sleeve and a 50 dollar bill. 

When they finally found Nathaniel, he was sitting alone at a big table with enough stools for all of them. It should have been impossible to find one this time of night on a Friday. Judging by the bruises beginning to bloom on Nathaniels’ hands, it had been taken by force. 

Surprisingly, Nathaniel went shot for shot with Kevin. He cracked jokes, smiled, even laughed now and then. 

Neil would be back eventually but, selfishly, Andrew found himself thinking he might be able to get used to this. 

-

Because of the Trojans double loss, they had an extra week off between games. 

The Foxes were buzzing with anxiety. Between the press and the other students, the pressure was high. 

Andrew tuned it all out. 

He was beyond saying he didn’t care about the game. Nathaniel and Kevin knew it was bullshit at this point. He just didn’t let it get to him. He was interested in winning because he knew how much Kevin and Nathaniel needed it. So they’d win. 

That week, the rest of the team decided to step it up. 

At first it was Nicky and Aaron showing up to night practice, then the upperclassmen followed. 

They all seemed surprised to see Andrew actually practicing, even more when Matt finally noticed Kevin was using his left hand. 

What surprised Andrew was the fact that Nathaniel went back to playing striker. He seemed to be just as aggravated as he was excited to have the whole team there. He played harder and fiercer at night, pulling out all the stops. 

Having everyone around every night made it harder for Andrew to get Nathaniel alone, but they managed. Nicky might have thought he was pulling a fast one on Andrew every time he dragged Kevin away, but Andrew wasn’t stupid. Sometimes he let it happen, sometimes he went chasing after the wayward striker. 

The week of the game had everyone stressed out. The last week of classes paired with the stress of the upcoming game had the whole team on their toes. Andrew breezed through all of his classes like they were nothing, because they were. He knew Nathaniel was off at the stadium everyday, running himself into the ground. Obsessed with being the fastest. 

Fucking junkie. 

Thursday night, Kevin skipped practice. He wouldn’t tell anyone where he was going, just said he had to take care of something. 

Somehow, with Nathaniel in charge, practice was rougher. He ran the team through drills like a damn military sergeant. Andrew watched Dan say something to Nathaniel at the end, patting a hand on his shoulder. 

“What was that about?” Andrew asked once they were alone on the court. 

“Coach is making Neil vice captain next year. I guess he already told Dan.” 

Andrew shook his head. Fucking great. Another reason for Neil to obsess. 

“What do you think Kevins’ doing?” Nathaniel asked. 

"Probably drinking himself into a coma.”

Nathaniel snorted, and they headed to the locker room together. 

-

When Kevin came back to the dorms that night, Andrew was honestly surprised. He didn’t think Kevin had it in him. He couldn’t help the smirk that spread across his lips as Kevin made his drunken speech. 

The look in Nathaniels’ eyes as Kevin stumbled off to bed had heat spreading through Andrews’ veins. When Nathaniel noticed Andrews’ staring, that manic grin took over his face again. 

“You could kiss me, y'know? I’m giving you my yes.”

Andrew smacked him upside the head.

-

Nathaniel was a nervous wreck on the bus ride to West Virginia. He sat next to Andrew the entire bus ride, leg bouncing the whole time. The excitement of his teammates seemed to do nothing to calm him. Even when they noticed Kevins’ tattoo. Eventually, Andrew reached over and gripped his thigh. 

“Calm the fuck down, rabbit.”

Surprisingly, he did. 

“Promise me you won’t leave me there. No matter what happens, promise me you won’t let them take me back.” Nathaniel whispered. There was a dark edge to his voice. 

Of course. The last time Nathaniel had been around, he’d been brutally tortured in the same building they were driving towards. 

All Andrew could do was squeeze harder and mutter, “Don’t be an idiot.” 

-

Kevin walked into Castle Evermore with his head held high, Nathaniel and Andrew right behind him. 

Andrew stood at the back of the group while the rest of the team waved to their fans. This was all meaningless. It was nothing to him. 

His hands were shaking.

He went and found Bee when Wymack dismissed them, hiding his hands in his pockets. 

“It’s okay to feel excited.” She said as he got close. “This is a very big moment for you.” 

Fucking Bee, always seeing past his mask. 

“We’re going to win.” Was all he said. 

He took a seat beside her, stealing it from one of Dans’ friends. 

“How Neil?” She asked, trying to keep her voice as low as she could with all the noise around them. 

Andrew shrugged. “He’s a stupid rabbit. He’ll run himself into the ground at this point.”

Bee shook her head. “It’s nice to see you happy, Andrew. I hope someday soon you’ll let yourself really feel it.”

And wasn’t that bullshit.

-

Andrew zoned out while gearing up, listening to nothing and no one. He ran laps at the back of the pack, remained silent through drills. He remained uninterested until the starting lineup was about to head out. 

Then Nathaniel grabbed his arm and pulled him off to the side. 

He was practically bouncing on his feet, eyes darting all around. When he spoke, it came out all at once. 

“Listen to me, Andrew. Neil will be back after the game. There are some things he’s going to know that he did not know before. He’s going to have a hard time showering for a while. The click of your zippo is going to bother him, you need to switch to a plastic. Just-“ Nathaniel drew a deep breath. “Just hold his hand every now and then, would you? If you can. Touch. Touch is grounding. He won’t ask for it. The armbands are a nice thought, he’ll need them. He won’t need to see the scars everyday. I- I’m not gonna come around again for a while, not until he needs me again. He’s gonna need you, okay?”

When Andrew didn’t say anything, Nathaniel turned to walk away. Andrew reached out and grabbed his arm, yanking him back. 

“Nathaniel, yes or no.”

Nathaniel stared at him, stock still. “Yes. It’s always yes with you, Drew.”

And then they were kissing. Nathaniel kissed differently than Neil, with a force Andrew had no choice but to return. It was all fire, a direct contrast to the icy blue of his eyes. When they parted, Nathaniel bent to hide his face in Andrews’ neck. 

“I’ll take care of him, I promise.” Andrew whispered. 

-

Nathaniel played the game like he was fighting a war that he could not lose. 

Andrew watched him for the first half. Watched him push and push and push and never seem to tire. He used a move Andrew hadn’t seen since their second game, a move Wymack, Kevin, and Dan had banned him from using again. He was reckless. 

And then the first half was over and it was Andrew's turn in goal. 

He didn’t have the time to keep an eye on Nathaniel, too busy blocking goals. The Foxes were doing better than they had the last time they played the Ravens, but it wasn’t enough. Andrew was exhausted after 20 minutes. He got fouled and Nathaniel was there before the refs even had the doors open. Matt was right behind him, surely to make sure Nathaniel didn't kill the dumbass backliner who had the nerve to slam into him. 

With the game almost over, and the Foxes losing ground they couldn’t afford to give, Andrew grabbed Nathaniels’ arm. “Are you tired yet?” He asked.

Nathaniel looked confused. “Of course not. Why?”

“I’m taking my turn. Matt.” Andrew said, and Matt immediately turned back to them. “We’re subbing Dan for Neil, and Neil for you.”

Matt stared. “We’re what?”

“You’re limping.” Nathaniel pointed out, his eyes slipping down to Matts’ feet. “I started this game as a backliner, remember? The Ravens had me against Riko back in December, and I’ve been practicing as one every night since you got back from vacation. I can do this Matt.” 

“Coach will never go for it.” Matt tried, but Andrew could already see that they’d won this argument. 

“Tell him he has to.” Andrew said. Matt was right, normally Coach would never go for it. But this was important, and it was Andrews’ idea. He’d do it. 

Without another word, Matt turned and headed for the doorway. While he took care of convincing Coach, Andrew turned to Nathaniel. 

“You knew it would come down to this.” He said after getting a glimpse of the grin on Nathaniels’ face. 

Nathaniel shrugged. “I was hoping. I’ve spent the last month working my ass off for this. Last time Riko saw me on the court, I’d just been beaten unconscious. He’s not going to expect this.” 

“Don’t do anything stupid.” Andrew said as Dan filed on the court. 

All he got in return was a shrug and a wink as Nathaniel jogged off to get in position against Riko. He said something inaudible to Riko, and then they were off. 

Nathaniel was an amazing striker. He was fast on his feet and pulled moves that could make even Kevin jealous. But backliner Nathaniel was a completely different beast. He’d practiced against Kevin multiple nights a week, running drills the rest of the time. He was a good enough backliner to block Kevin, he’d crush Riko. He took to blocking Riko like he was born to do it, and maybe he was. As more and more time went on, Riko got more and more desperate. Andrew couldn’t see everything, still too occupied with his own goal, but he saw enough. If Neil was really back after the game, he’d need some time with Abby.

In the end, they won. By some fucking miracle, they won. And then Nathaniel was on his knees and Riko was raising his racquet and swinging it and Nathaniel just sat there. Andrew was running before he made the conscious decision to. Horrored screams filled the stadium as the cameras caught hold of what was happening. 

As Riko's racquet came down, so did Andrew’s. 

There was a sickening crunch, but Andrew could barely hear it. He was focused on Nathaniel’s manic grin, the laugh that burst through him as he watched Riko fall in front of him. 

Andrew lost track of time, and Nathaniel, for a while. Cops were swarming around, collecting statements and ushering fans from the stadium. They met up again in the locker room, everyone dragging their feet in exhaustion. The long hours after the final bell had worn down their excitement over the win. They all got showered and dressed, but Nathaniel didn’t come back. Andrew sat on a bench and tried not to let his leg bounce. 

When Nathaniel finally showed up in the doorway he had that same grin on his face, a light in his eyes and a small, almost unnoticeable splatter of blood on his cheek.

Nicky said something, and Nathaniel responded, but Andrew wasn’t listening. It was still Nathaniel, not Neil. Andrew hadn’t expected to see Nathaniel again after the final buzzer. Wymack made some threat about leaving without anyone who wasn’t on the bus in whatever amount of time, and everyone filled out. 

Andrew remained, grabbing Nathaniels’ duffel to bring over to him. Nathaniel grabbed it, then let it drop. Andrew watched, shrugged, and dropped his own. 

“I thought you were supposed to keep Neil alive, not let his head get thrown off.” 

Nathaniel laughed. “I thought you were going to take care of him.”

Andrew scowled. “Where is he?”

“Relax. He’ll be back in the morning. Figured you wouldn’t want to coax him down from a panic attack in front of everyone.” When Andrew said nothing, Nathaniel said, "Riko's dead, and Tetsuji has been forced to step down. It’ll hit the news tomorrow morning. Poor, unstable Riko. Unable to cope with the loss of his father, and the downfall of his team. Took his own life right here in the stadium.” There was something violent behind the look on Nathaniels’ face. 

Andrew stared at that beautiful grin on Nathaniels’ face. “You didn’t.”

“No. I didn’t”

They took a few steps before Nathaniel reached out and grabbed the back of Andrews’ shirt to stop him. He didn’t turn around, and Nathaniel didn’t wait for him to. 

“Thank you, Andrew. For what you’ve done for us. All of us.” 

Without waiting for a response, Nathaniel let go of Andrews’ shirt and continued on ahead of him. 

-

True to his word, Andrew didn’t really see Nathaniel again for a long time. After Neil got over the shock of the whole thing, he was pissed. Pissed that he’d missed the Ravens’ game, pissed that there was so much this seemingly other person in his brain had been keeping from him. And then, once the anger was over and done with, came the devastation. Andrew sat with him as Neil retched into the toilet, the memories that Nathaniel had let go off coming back in a rush. Andrew kept a hand on his back the whole time. It becomes clear eventually that Nathaniel didn’t give Neil everything, but that’s none of Andrews’ business. 

Nathaniel showed through every now and then, when someone had the audacity to threaten the Foxes, but he didn’t fully take control of Neil again. They went about life as if he’d never happened. 

Six months later when Neil finally notices that Andrew had replaced his old zippo with a bright orange plastic one, he asks about it. Andrew simply shrugs, and lights their cigarettes. 

(And no, he never does get his stolen knife back. But packaging for an ankle holster shows up in the trash, and the bulge in Neils’ sock is noticeable if you’re looking. He lets it go.)