Chapter Text
“Stop it.”
Looking to Andrew, Kevin knew from the terrible grin torn across his face that his own expression couldn’t have been anything but pitiful.
“I won’t repeat myself,” he warned, voice light and mocking, and Kevin had to choke down a shaking breath. “You’re worrying over nothing. I will not let them touch you.”
Kevin could do nothing but shake his head—for once in his life, it wasn’t himself he was worried about, afraid for.
Waymack shifted the bus into park and he swallowed a sob, chased it with the last of his vodka.
Filing off and out into the parking lot, the other foxes sent anxious glances his way as they passed him. Stopping by his side on the asphalt, Matt clapped a heavy hand to his shoulder, rattling Kevin’s skeleton as he did. He didn’t say anything, but Kevin knew the smile Matt gave him was meant to be reassuring.
No amount of well intended looks or pats on the back or eighty proof vodka would be enough to get him through what he was walking into.
He knew the dull buzz at the back of his mind was Wymack’s voice, loud and gruff, laying out rules and expectations for when they got inside, but Kevin couldn’t hear him.
His heart was beating too fast, pulse thrumming past his temples and pounding on the backs of his eyelids. It was all he could hear.
When a hand on his back pushed him forward, Kevin forced his feet to move, stumbling slightly with every few steps, vodka and fear swirling into a dangerous cocktail in the pit of his stomach and threatening to pull him off his feet entirely.
He didn’t dare lift his eyes until they were inside Blackwell’s stadium, and even then it was the barest glimpse of a glance around, just long enough to take in the padded floor of the court and the tables around the room before his gaze found his feet again.
He thought he heard Dan swear, but her voice was fuzzy and distant, like his head was being held underwater.
Kevin didn’t understand what she was upset about until they reached their designated table and Andrew kicked out a chair for him to fall into. He could see in his peripherals that whoever they’d been seated with wasn’t there yet and he chanced another glance up.
The seats were empty, but the black and red banners draped across their backs had his heart falling into his ass.
Leaning forward, Kevin let out a pathetic little whimper, so low he was sure no one had heard it, save perhaps Andrew and Dan where they were seated on either side of him.
He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t do this, he couldn’t do this, he couldn’t do this.
For a moment, he let himself wonder if Wymack would get angry at him for getting up and leaving—the longer he sat there the more sure he became that there was no way he could do this.
The announcement of the Ravens’ arrival cut his wondering short.
Andrew’s hand fisted in the back of his shirt collar pulled him upright so he was sitting straight instead of hunched over the table. “Don’t want them to think we’re mistreating you, do we, Kev?”
Kevin swallowed.
Chairs across the table were pulled out in perfect synchronicity, all except one, the seat directly across from Kevin. He still didn’t lift his eyes, but he didn’t need to look to know who would dare to go against the entire team at once.
Under the table, Dan put a hand on his knee and squeezed. Peeking in her direction, she gave him the briefest of smiles. He could hear Andrew snickering on his other side.
“What’s so funny, Doe?” Riko asked, voice airy and amused already. It took everything in Kevin not to flinch.
Andrew shrugged. “I just love a good show. You Ravens never disappoint when it comes to a comedy.”
“We live to entertain no one but you, Minyard,” came a second voice, and this one had Kevin’s eyes snapping in the man’s direction before he could think better of it.
Nathaniel Wesninski.
Nathaniel. His brother.
A real brother, not in the way Riko claimed to be, a brother in every way that a brother should have been.
Where the rest of the Ravens sat forward in their seats, hands folded neatly on the table, Nathaniel lounged lazily, arm over the back of his chair and one knee up against the table.
His scarred face was free of any marring bruises, but that meant nothing when he’d become Riko’s partner in Kevin’s place; he couldn’t be paraded in front of the media if Riko further disfigured his face. He’d come to the Ravens with the scars his father had given him, but any damage past that would draw a reaction, prompt questions and speculation.
No, it was the black and purple just barely peeking out from the collar of his suit that had Kevin’s insides twisting. The bandages wrapped around too thin wrists and hands that had fresh hatred for himself blooming in his chest.
Icy blue eyes met his and Kevin dropped his gaze like it had burned, shame eating a hole through the lining of his stomach.
He was going to be sick.
I left him there, his mind reeled, threatening to send him down a hole of self loathing that he had spent many hours and days in already, I left him there, I left him there, I left him with him, he set me free and I didn’t look back to make sure he was following, I left him—
“Kevin,” Nathaniel’s voice interrupted his spiraling, “You look well.”
He knew it wouldn’t do him any good, knew it would only hurt, but Kevin raised his gaze once more. Found Nathaniel smiling at him.
It wasn’t the wild, blood-thirsty grin he’d inherited from his father, nor was it the arrogant smirk he touted in front of the media, letting everyone who saw it know that he was well aware of the fact he was better than them.
It was small, genuine, just the barest curve of his lips. His eyes held something like relief, but bitter grief tinged the edges of it. The bags beneath them were so dark…
Kevin had to swallow down bile as it rose in his throat. “I am,” he promised, voice hoarse.
Everything in Kevin’s being ached to reach out for him. His little brother. His savior. His martyr.
He had to be well, because Nathaniel had risked everything for his freedom, and then he had risked everything again for Jean’s. If they were not well, if they were anything short of thriving, it would mean his sacrifices, his pain, had been a complete and utter waste and Kevin could not—
A hand stretched across the table and startled Kevin from the turmoil trying to pull him under, breaking the quiet tension around the two before Riko could, though his mouth was already open, a harsh remark no doubt at the ready.
Dan didn’t let him get that far. “Dan Wilds. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Nathaniel.”
Riko stiffened beside him. It was a courtesy she had not extended to Riko, the captain all but ignoring him where he sat directly in front of her. Nathaniel had done nothing, had said nothing to warrant it, but it would no doubt lead to nothing but bloody pain for him later when Riko had him alone again.
Nathaniel knew this, Kevin knew he did, but the man shook her hand regardless. “I know you, Dan Wilds,” he told her, “The first female captain in NCAA Class I Exy. Kevin often said you would have made Kayleigh Day proud.”
Dark eyes widened at that, Dan glancing to Kevin as if in disbelief. He could do nothing but give her a nod. It was the truth, after all. On her other side, Matt was grinning, shaking her shoulder excitedly.
There was no time for congratulations or excitement though. Riko was getting tired of being ignored and he would not allow it to continue on any longer. He set his sights on Kevin.
“How have the Foxes been treating you, Kevin? You seem… off kilter.” His smile was pleasant, but thinly veiled cruelty sat just below the surface. “It’s such a shame Jean couldn’t be here, don’t you think?”
A muscle in Nathaniel’s jaw twitched, the fist he had resting on the table clenching tightly. He looked like he had half a mind to take a swing on Riko for it—Kevin really hoped he wouldn't, it had never ended well for him in the past.
Before anyone could say anything though, Andrew was laughing, so loud that it sent Kevin jumping nearly a foot in the air, drawing the attention of players from surrounding tables.
After a moment, he leaned in, voice low and eyes crazed as he said, “They’re saying it was a car crash.” His gaze moved from Nathaniel to Riko, elbows planting on the table so he could rest his chin in his hands. “I wonder what really happened, don’t you?”
Riko’s grin was vicious. “Easy, Doe. Just because your car crash wasn’t an accident doesn’t mean that’s true for everyone else’s.”
At that, Andrew burst into another fit of raucous laughter. From his peripheral, Kevin saw Aaron stand, slapping away the hand Nicky reached for him with as he left.
Seemingly more than pleased with himself, Riko leaned back in his chair, jabbing an elbow into Nathaniel’s side, the wince it drew far more violent than the touch would have normally warranted.
“Isn’t this so much fun? You like the Foxes, don’t you, Nathaniel?”
Tired blue eyes slid to meet Riko’s stare, nodding once. That wasn’t good enough though, nothing ever was when it came to Riko.
“Speak when you’re spoken too, Nathaniel,” he snapped, elbow much crueler when it struck this time.
“Yes, Riko, I like the Foxes…”