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Neil shouldn’t have said anything, he should’ve never said anything because he’s still uncertain about his future, and fuck, he wants to be safe, he wants to feel safe because he is, but he just can’t manage to breathe when his stitches pull and he can’t even rest his head on his pillow without pain shooting through his entire body.
He should rest, because since he’s back from Baltimore he hasn’t managed to truly take care of himself. The rest of the foxes have helped him, but all by himself Neil doesn’t know how to take care of himself. His body knows how to heal but he doesn’t remember how to help himself feel better. It’s only when Andrew gets out of bed to turn on the lights to check on him that he remembers he’s supposed to do something else than reflect upon it.
He’s alive. He’s not fine, but he will be eventually and that thought helps him breathe in.
“How are your stitches?” Andrew asks and Neil complains about everything and nothing in response because everything hurts still. He wants to finish by saying ‘fine’, but he won’t, “Stop thinking and sleep”.
Neil nodds and closes his eyes again as Andrew settles in his own bed.
“You didn’t have to stay there with me. I wouldn’t have let them take me away” Neil says and it’s a question at the same time, because he knows Andrew’s much more than what he chooses to say, “Thank you”
It’s stupid and not something they do, but suddenly Neil really wants to hold his hand as some sort of reassurance. He falls asleep thinking of how it must feel to fall asleep with Andrew’s hand in his.
“Yes or no?” They’re in the shower, Andrew helping Neil still, his hands in his hair, massaging his scalp even after the suds are long gone. Neil hums at Andrew’s question, knowing it isn’t enough but feeling unable to say anything, “Say something, your ‘always’ doesn’t exist” Andrew’s fingers have stopped moving gently over his scalp. He tugs his hair gently.
“Yes to the washing” He says hoping Andrew won’t stop his gentle hands slowly and carefully washing him. Neil turns around when Andrew’s hands lower, resting on the back of his neck.
“Yes or no?” He asks again, not pressing, not hoping.
“No, but yes to the washing” He repeats and Andrew looks at him with what Neil can interpret as feigned annoyance. Andrew likes talking care of people even if his methods are a bit uncommon. He hums when Andrew’s hands go back to the initial task.
“If you like it so much I’m gonna leave you here alone” Andrew whispers, making Neil turn around again so the water won’t directly touch the ruined skin of his arms.
“Don’t pretend you don’t like it too” Neil complains.