Chapter Text
"Hey, Neil," Abby said in a hushed voice, "Are you okay? You're looking a bit tired, love. I know this must have been hard, being on the court for the first time sinc-. Well, even if nothing will help, you can always talk-"
(Nothing)
Neil cut her off with a blunt, "No. I'm fine."
(Nothing)
They were all gathered in the lounge, waiting on Coach to finish sorting through his notes from last week’s game. Today was the Monday after Neil’s first game since Binghamton and his 'reunion' with Lola. He thought he'd handled it pretty well – smashed it, to be honest – Neil played like he had everything to lose, and they'd won. And yet... it had been days since Neil had closed his eyes for more than a blink and he was starting to feel it. He'd breezed past the point of exhaustion a while ago and now he was starting to feel that manic edge rising.
Andrew, sat on the couch seat next to him, turned his head slightly and the other Foxes looked over. Having spoken out loud, Neil realised this was probably the first time in a few days he'd done that – let the words out. Neil guessed Abby was trying to do him a favour by keeping her voice low, but he couldn't actually dredge up enough energy to care.
"I'm fine!" Neil said. He knew the others made fun of his catch phrase, but it was the truth, and all of a sudden, he was sick and tired of people asking him if he's 'ok'. Of course he is! He's Neil-fucking-Josten! He didn't break when his father sliced apart his childhood, taking away the feeling of safety parents are supposed to give their children. He didn't break when his people tried to carve and bully him into becoming a monster. He didn't break during the years of running and hiding and pulses of ice-cold fear to the belly. He didn't break when Riko-fuckface-Moriyama took it upon himself to torture scream after scream from him. So, he sure as hell isn't going to break just because of a few burns given by a very much dead Lola, and a few creative threats from his very much dead father. He is Neil-fucking-Josten. He isn't afraid of ghosts and his Foxes know that.
He is always fine. He's just tired.
(Nothing)
And yet, conversation had ground to a halt, and all eyes were fixed on Neil. It seemed like the temperature of the room suddenly dropped, and Neil could practically feel the concern emanating from the players sitting around him.
"What?" Neil demanded.
Dan edged a little off her seat at Matt's side, and carefully said Neil's name - like she was afraid or something. In fact, they all looked a little tense, just sitting there, staring at him. All except Andrew, who still favoured Neil with his patented bored expression, though he, too, had turned to face him now.
Neil was too tired for this. Too tired to eat. Too tired to run. Too tired to analyse his teammates. A few weeks ago, he would have been worried that they were close to figuring out who he is – was – that they might have begun to fear him like they should. But, even after laying it all out for them, they still stuck by him – kept him. Neil knew then that he would never have to worry about them throwing him away or holding his past against him. But he still had to worry about them - apart from Andrew, and possibly Renee, they didn't really know the true depths of human depravity and cruelness. They didn't know the lengths to which some people will go, just to inflict pain and torment. He had to protect them as best he could, just like they protect him. But... he's just so tired.
Too tired even for sleep.
A half-strangled snicker escaped his lips, which was the moment when Neil realised he was already smiling. He lifted a hand to his face, and brushed his fingertips over his mouth. A fluttering buzz made its way through his empty stomach – Neil already knew whose smile he was wearing, but he couldn't quite believe it and he couldn't stop it. He couldn't release the muscles to pull his smile off. The edges of the world were filling with fog and his Foxes were looking at him like there was something wrong... like there was something wrong with him.
Another giggle made its way out from behind his teeth; he was too broken, and his team too kind. He just knew they would do anything for him. And he shouldn't let them. Guilt and something too painful to name thrashed in his stomach, but his brain wasn't working right then, and for some reason this was… funny? Really funny in fact... that he had started life in the dregs of the world, surrounded by pain and brutality – Lola's manic smile and his father's cold blades. And now… Now, Neil was surrounded by a family he could never have dreamed of: accepting, brave and fearless when it came to protecting their own. Though perhaps less so in this instance: protecting Foxes from themselves has always been the bigger battle anyway.
"Neil," Dan whispered again, inching closer. "Is something wrong? Are you okay?"
Her weight was almost centred completely on the balls of her feet now, leaning off the upperclassmen couch, trying to keep eye contact while Neil's eyes kept sliding all over the place. Kevin had gone pale, and the look on his face said it all: he'd seen this smile before too.
Neil could feel the grin etched into his face getting wider, and Lola's face flashed behind his eyes; his jaw ached, and his skin felt like it had stretched too far to ever relax again. And still he smiled. He literally couldn't help it. It hurt, and he didn't care. It was possible Neil was losing his mind. All that putting-off feeling – that true sadness and heartache of being hurt by the ones who are supposed to protect you. All that running and 'just make it through the pain, react later'... maybe it was catching up with him. And if it was, what did it mean that he was grinning like a maniac... like Lola? If only his burned-out mind could realise he was scaring his family, maybe he'd be able to stop. But, the world was tilting, Neil was grinning, and Kevin was crying.
"Kevin! Why are you crying?" Neil's unfocused eyes spun over the silent tears sliding down Kevin's chin – he couldn't remember seeing Kevin cry before... he couldn't remember what had happened to make Kevin cry. He could barely remember where he was...
"Kevin?" Neil's head snapped back to Kevin’s face after he’d drifted off again, and a twinge of heat rushed through his neck but he didn't flinch. It didn't hurt. "Why are you crying, Kevin?"
He heard a broken sound come from the back of Kevin's throat, and all save Andrew and Wymack now looked to Kevin, who had started to ever so slightly quiver.
Apparently, this was too much mystery for Aaron who let out a demanding, "What the hell is going on. Neil, what's wrong with your face and what the fuck is Day's issue now? What did I miss?"
A sharp gesture and glint of silver silenced Andrew's twin, but Andrew's eyes never left Neil's face, not that Neil was looking at him – he was already laughing, mouth wide enough the see his molars.
"Wrong,” Neil laughed.
It was clear to those around him, that this was a Neil they had never encountered, one that seemed to be losing that control he holds onto ever so tightly – and it was also clear the Foxes had no idea what to do. Hands fluttered uselessly over thighs, eyes met with no idea how to fix this. The frigid silence of the room was only broken by the hum of air conditioning and the insane sounds tearing through Neil's throat. It wasn't laughter.
This wasn't funny.
Neil, though, didn't seem to get the memo. "Wrong!" Neil choked out through a gap in his hacking wheezes. "Nothing’s wrong, Aaron? Why are you sobbing, Kevin? Nothing’s wrong.” Neil's eyes spun out again, up and sideways and down. The over-stretched smile never left his face, but he stopped laughing for a moment.
He looked down at the ground, where the glimmers of a memory he didn’t want to remember lay in wait. His subconscious whispering how very wrong it all was.
Then his head whipped round, at the sound of another sniffle from Kevin. Again his horribly bright Cheshire cat grin burned bright, and Kevin flinched.
"Kevin! Kevin Kevin Kevin. Why are you crying, Kevin?" Neil asked, as if he hadn’t just asked that about a thousand times already. But, it didn't seem like Kevin was quite able to talk yet. His lips had paled and he, too, had a fuzzy, unfocused look to his green eyes.
Dan was crouched in front of Neil now, with a hand atop her shoulder that wasn't hers. Neil's head darted to the right to see behind her, dragging the top half of his body with him as if there was no strength left in it. Seeing Matt behind Dan, Neil snapped back, quick flashes of movement that made everyone more uncomfortable than they already were… if that were possible. Neil knew the hand was for support; Neil knew Matt loved him just as much as Dan and all the other foxes did. That hand wasn't there to pull Dan back if Neil decided to get violent because Matt knew he never would. Why do his Foxes care? Why do they trust him so? He's just-
"Nei-" Dan started, her voice a little more than a whisper.
"Dan. Hey, Dan. I think I figured it out, Have you? Have you figured it out?" There was no filter. His filter had gone and that should scare him to death. He'd spent every waking minute since he can remember keeping secrets, and he trusted himself to be able to do so. He had to. He was Nathaniel Wes- Wait, was that right? No. Wait. God, so tired. tiredtiredtired. Why isn't he sleepy. Why is he wide awake? Why does his face not hurt – it hurt a second ago, didn't it? A year ago? Time wasn't making sense. Wait – he'd just told Dan he'd figured something out. What was it?
Horror was now apparent on most of the Foxes faces – when had he stopped talking? Was he still talking?
Neil's eyes snapped back to his Captain, "Dan! Dan Dan! I think I figured out what's wrong with Day. Aren't you proud of me, Dan?" Neil was jabbering faster than he could comprehend the jagged half-sentences coming out of his mouth.
"...Ye-" Dan started slowly, probably not wanting to tip Neil's potential psychotic break one way or the other, but Neil had already jerked his head back towards Kevin, with an audible crack that seemed to emanate from his neck. Andrew's fingers twitched towards Neil, and Nicky whimpered quietly.
It didn't hurt.
"Kevin! Talk to me – did I get it right? Is that why you’re sad? Is it? Because I've seen that look before, haven't I? I did, didn't I?" Neil said, too quickly for most of the Foxes to hear all the half-aborted sentences emanating from Neil's hoarse throat.
If it were possible, his smile stretched further, and a few more tendons strained out of his neck, as if wanting to split his skin from the inside out and release themselves. Neil's movements were lightening quick as he looked to the rest of his team, maybe wanting to see something... pride... in Neil, maybe. He was starting to think back to his buried childhood, a time with no pride. Only adults hurting him because Nathaniel was too shameful to be part of the family. Wait - no, Neil. Neil, now. Not Nathaniel. Why is there so much fog stopping his thoughts from swimming clearly.
Also, his Foxes aren't looking at him with pride for figuring it out – they’re still scared. Nicky always had a smile. Now there’s nothing but fear.
Yeah.
Nicky's probably just staggered and disappointed that Neil could break down. Yes, how dare Neil crack? He is a Fox. Foxes don't break. Is this breaking? They all look scared. For him – but they shouldn't be because Neil's just N-
"Nggh" Kevin let out, "Y-You-" Kevin's voice coming back to him it seemed.
"I know, Kevin! Aren't you proud of me? You always say I need to see more. See the angles when I play. I can see you, Kevin. I think I know what's wrong," Neil said, starting to spin ever downwards, away from here and to a place he never wanted to go again. He never thought he'd have to. Who'd a’ thunk it? Nathaniel Wesninski, taking after Lola instead of his father. There's a debate somewhere in there: nature... nurture... something or other. I'm sure if he had just a few hours of sleep under his belt, he'd be able to think on it. But, now there's more static in Neil's head than coherent thought.
"YOu- Your face-" Kevin stuttered out, "It's hers", as if that was supposed to be this big reveal. Idiot. Exy-idiot. Fox-idiot. Our idiot.
"Um..." Aaron started, but Neil was already laughing again.
Here he was, surrounded by his Foxes, and he still couldn't escape the life he'd left behind. Leave Nathaniel buried in Baltimore with his father. It was never going to be that easy. He should tell Andrew that… if only he could stop laughing first.
Maybe he was sharing his inner monologue with the world (it wouldn't surprise him to be honest, everything else in the sanity department has gone to shit), because Andrew's knife was in his hand, and stretching outward – Andrew’s knives always fit so snugly in his hands, belonging there… to protect and defend. He wondered if his manic grin had pushed Andrew over an edge from just wanting him dead, to actually doing something about it. Hmm, he thought in that motel in Baltimore... oh well. He laughed a bit harder. He was just thinking about blades, wasn't he? No... should have been – god, this brain-fog would be incredibly infuriating if he had the energy to care – he needs to tell Kevin something. A memory. He needs to tell him he remembers it, doesn't he? Has he done it already? No, he needs to tell Kevin. Why is this important? God, it's getting so hard to remember.
He can feel himself slipping.
Andrew's knife was reaching forward, but it went Aaron's way instead of his. Neil thought this was a tad unfair, Aaron was a complete arsehole, but it wasn't as if he'd done anything wrong this time. Neil was the one who was making Kevin cry. Was he still crying? Maybe? It's all so funny. Neil. Neil Neil Neil. The man who said he'd play exy until the day he died, figuring it wouldn't be more than a couple of months. The man who was committed to staying alone – having an actual family.
...And making them cry. They shouldn't cry for him. He was just N-
Neil reached out, quick as a dart, and clenched his fist around the carbon-steel throwing knife. There was a gasp from someone, and Andrew dropped the knife – the handle was heavier than the tapering blade, and so, as it slid from his clenched fist, he felt the skin of his palm and a strip across his fingertips, parting. It didn't hurt… just a flash of white heat and the skin opening where it wasn’t supposed to. Air hit the nerves that should never be exposed. Shouldn’t this hurt?
He smiled wider.
Kevin wailed.
Andrew watched the blade clatter to the floor.
Lola's face flashed behind Neil's eyes again... as well as another memory. Blood.
Kevin remembered that memory too.
Drip.
Neil started giggling again. Drip. Andrew stared at Neil's hand, floating in the air; a half fist, holding nothing, slowly pouring blood.
Neil's already forgotten it, he looks to Kevin, "You do remember, don't you?"
A hesitant nod from Kevin.
Andrew looked into Neil's eyes, and Neil holds that gaze. Those hazel eyes could always hold Neil.
The world was spinning, but Andrew's eyes held onto Neil; tethering him to the moment. Neil could feel his... not secrets - he had given the Foxes all his secrets in Baltimore – but Neil could feel memories coming to the surface. Bad memories. Ones he should keep buried. That would be better wouldn't it? Maybe he and Kevin should just keep these memories buried. He could save the Foxes from ever knowing some of the more horrific days in the Wesninski’s care. He could just carry on: push these fears and echoes back down... he could just... just...
But, he was still wearing Lola's smile, and there was a crease in the pale forehead a few inches from his own – a crease in between Andrew's perfect blonde eyebrows.
Maybe...
Maybe if Neil was in his right mind, he wouldn't have shared this story. Maybe if Neil had taken a sleeping tablet four days ago, he could have saved his Foxes from ever knowing these truths. Maybe this was all a mistake.
Maybe his Foxes were stronger than he knew.
Maybe Neil needed this. Maybe Neil needed to fall apart, so he could come back together again, in the arms of his family.
"Talk," said Andrew.