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Andrew’s body woke first with a startling jolt, his mind catching up a minute later. He sat up, and frowned. His limbs felt heavy, his head stuffed full of cotton. He rubbed at his eyes and looked around blearily. Kevin had been running practice like they were a drill team recently but still, why did everything hurt?
He figured Neil must’ve gone for a run as his shoes and duffle were missing from their normal spots, but when he looked at Kevin’s alarm clock across the room the time read 11:30am.
How the fuck had he slept so long? Kevin’s bitching aside, Andrew generally was not the last to wake. Maybe he was sick. If would explain why it felt like his tongue was taking up too much space in the back of his throat, and the way his head was starting to pound.
He heard noise from the kitchen and stood to investigate, nearly wincing as he got to his feet, he just felt so… heavy. Feeling like he was moving three times slower than normal, he opened the door to the bedroom and shuffled into the living area.
He found Kevin and Nicky in the beanbags watching some cooking show, and Aaron in the kitchen in all black. Andrew didn’t know what the hell that was about, his brother was rarely in this dorm anymore. And when he was it certainly wasn’t to steal their coffee looking like he just came from a funeral.
“Where’s Neil?” He asked, and his voice almost hurt coming out. God, he needed to get some fucking DayQuil or something. Aaron didn’t respond, in fact he didn’t even glance at him.
Nicky spoke from the living room. “He doesn’t get in till 2, but you should probably leave soon.”
He ran the words through his brain twice, everything too syrupy slow. It was like he was wading through fog. “Leave where?” He said finally.
Once again, Nicky answered even though Andrew was looking at Aaron. “To get him? Remember? Coach still thinks I’m going, you had me tell Aaron last night about the outfits thing. The keys are on the ring.”
His mind was moving too slowly for anger or confusion to truly take hold. It felt like the second he grasped how out of sorts everything was, it was slipping away into pieces in his hands. He didn’t get it.
“Andrew?” Kevin was speaking now. He looked at him with some level of concern. “You need them? I still dont think you should risk it the whole day.”
All three of them were looking at him now, and he put a hand to his temple. Risk what? Something was wrong. Where was Neil?
“Drive him from where?” He ground out, and once again Aaron looked to Nicky to answer even though Andrew was staring right at him.
Before Nicky could say anything a swell of anger bubbled through Andrew. “Why can’t you speak today?” He snapped.
Aaron looked shocked, and then the expression turned into a glare that Andrew hadn’t seen in months. “When’s the last time you spoke to me?” He spit back, venom lacing his words.
Andrew was incredulous. Sure, they didn’t have a normal relationship, but they were still doing joint sessions every Wednesday.
The look on his brother’s face was one Andrew recognized. Confusion, distrust. Fear.
Something like panic began to take hold of him. Some ice cold feeling spread through him like a sickness before being melted away into the haze with everything else. Sliding, slick, right off.
He knew this feeling.
His heart was hammering despite the fact that his brain couldn’t catch up fully to the feeling. When he spoke, he heard his voice shake. “Pick Neil up from where, Nicky?”
Nicky had fully turned at this point, staring at Andrew like he’d gone insane. “The airport?? To bring him to coach’s apartment?”
The ground felt like it was falling out from under him, he felt sweat break out on his skin. Something shot straight through the haze for all of two seconds to immediately get pulled back under. He was going to throw up, he was fine. He felt nothing.
Andrew nearly stumbled getting to the door. He ripped the keys off the hook and shoved his feet into his court shoes soley because he wouldn’t have to reach down to re-lace them. He needed to get out of here.
He ignored Nicky’s questions and slammed the door behind him. His feet hit pavement before he registered getting outside the dorm. He realised he was searching for the Maserati and looked down at the key in his hand. It was for the GS.
Pure disbelief rang true before being torn away. He felt amusement bubble up and shoved as far down and away he could. He thought he could laugh. He knew what it would sound like.
His hands shook with unfelt hysteria. He was horrified, and then he was fine.
He found the GS, closing his eyes and he hit the unlock button. To his horror, the car responded. He opened and slammed the driver’s side door four times before getting in. He threw the keys into the passenger seat hard and set both hands on the steering wheel. His head was throbbing. The summer sun was making him sweat, fingers slipping over the wheel.
He squeezed the leather harder and harder, forcing breaths through his lungs that felt like they’d tear through him any second. This couldn’t be real. His head dripped with sweat and he was trembling viciously so he squeezed his hands more tightly on the wheel until his arms went numb.
Okay, fine. He told himself, think.
It was hard, thoughts feeling more like barely there impressions, too vague to get a hold of. Too transparent to see fully. Think.
Okay. This day. He’d come of his meds the night before in order to be fine driving.
He was in withdrawal. That’s why his body felt the way it did, and why he wasn’t processing things correctly. The lingering effects were still pulling his emotions under into the neverending fog. It was ebbing out though, and then there’d be a vacuum.
Neil.
Regardless of whatever this was. Fine. If Neil was at the airport, that’s where Andrew would go. He took the keys from the passenger seat and turned them in the ignition. The GS roared to life, almost louder than the Maserati. Andrew felt almost comforted by his eidetic memory for the first time in his life. He couldn’t be questioning the life he’d lived to this point because he’d always remembered everything. If this was some sort of mental break, he knew at least these things were real.
As he drove, he felt his panic slip from him. He had no choice but to let it go along with everything else. By the time he’d pulled into the airport, he was numb. He knew it wasn’t right, but there was nothing to do.
He had time to kill before Neil’s flight landed, he knew. He stood in one spot for what felt like minutes, but he recognized was hours because now he was staring at Neil.
Brown hair dye, brown contacts, huge sweater, jeans with the hems destroyed, converse in shreds, eyes darting, face free of scars, duffel bag clutched to him, posture hunching in on himself- Neil.
Andrew said nothing as he was spotted. He was rooted to the linoleum. He was stuck there in this moment. He felt something like fear. An earth breaking movement, a shifting of his soul, a displacement of his very being.
Neil’s expression was distrustful, wary, distant. His eyes darted past baggage claim to the exit before glancing off Andrew again.
To his core, he was frozen. What was there to do? What was he supposed to do right now? What was there to do?
In every cruel joke that had been played in the big puppet show that was Andrew’s life, nothing had felt as fundamentally life shattering as this. His strings were cut, he couldn’t do anything but watch. Somehow, he was back here. With a family who only trusted him in his ability to keep the worse things away. Medicated again. And Neil had no idea who he was.
Neil was staring at him now, clearly confused why they weren’t moving. He frowned at Andrew, gaze finally focusing just on him. Clarity. Andrew’s head throbbed. Could he see thin ring of blue iris peeking out from the brown? Maybe.
Maybe he could do it. Maybe he could protect him for real this time. Was that the purpose here? Was that was this was? Some sort of cut throat second chance of sorts?
He would hold his ground. Sure. He could do it for Neil, for his family. He could do this again. He could change it, help. Start sooner. He’d break off the deal with Aaron. He’d ask Bee what he could do to convince the court to let him off the meds. He’d do rehab now, in the beginning when Riko didn’t know anything. He would. He would in any world, in any do over, any chance; save Neil.
Neil’s expression was suddenly changing, the sharpness dulling, his head cocking. “Andrew?” He said, and his voice was softer. His eyes were turning blue. The world was falling away from Andrew. His feet were no longer on the ground. The tether that had rooted him, disappeared. He was drifting.
“Andrew!” Neil’s voice was high, stressed. Andrew’s eyes opened and he jerked upwards. His head slammed into the wood slats above him. His mind was racing and he catalogued everything wildly for a moment. He was soaking wet, his shirt sticking to his skin.
Neil sat on the bunk with him, his Neil. Blue eyes and marked face, Andrew’s shirt on and track shorts. He had a hand extended halfway between their bodies, waiting obediently in an unsaid question.
Andrew’s brain caught up. A dream.
He closed his eyes, a long breath escaping him.
“Neil.” He said. A statement. Solid. Real.
“Yes.” Neil replied, and Andrew reached out to connect their hands. He slid past Neil’s fingers to find his pulse and it beat rapidly beneath his touch. Here.
He pulled Neil closer to him, resting that pulse point on his mouth. The heat of him settling Andrew further.
“You okay?” Neil’s voice was much calmer now, he’d probably come in to find Andrew in whatever fitful state of sleep he must’ve entered. He shifted his hand to run it though Andrew’s hair. He was sure it was sweat soaked but Neil didn’t seem to mind.
Andrew said nothing and stayed where he was. Neil seemed content with this and shifted to sit with his back against the wall, keeping his hand on Andrew’s head.
“I got some medicine, I didn’t know what was best so I got a lot. I tried to call Nicky, but he kept telling me ‘the best medicine is love’, so then I tried to call Aaron about it but he hung up on me. Some future doctor he’ll be.”
Andrew amusement was hid behind Neil’s wrist, and he felt relief at the emotion ringing clear.
A fever dream.
He’d gotten sick just a day ago, it had started fine and gotten worse. He figured he had to have sweat most of it out, he was drenched. He got up on his elbows to look at the floor where Neil had left the plastic bag to see he’d indeed gotten a range of medicine. Cough syrup, nasal spray, ibuprofen, soothing drops, tums, and icy hot all were visible through the semi transparent material. Neil peered over the side of the bed at it too.
“I guess we’ll be stocked up for a while.” He said, and Andrew huffed before dropping back down to his pillow.
He wasn’t sure how much time had passed with Neil’s hand moving slowly through his hair, when the door to the bedroom opened. His brother stood with his arms crossed in the frame.
“Come to redeem yourself?” Neil asked and Andrew rolled his eyes.
“Jesus Christ, Josten. Get him a fucking ice pack.” Aaron sighed, but was stomping around to the bathroom to wet a washcloth.
When Neil started to move, Andrew held firm to his wrist. He shut his eyes so he couldn’t read Neil’s expression and just kept his hand where it was. Neil caught the hint after a moment and relaxed back where he was. Andrew let go of his wrist in time to hear Aaron trudge to the edge of the bed.
A cool washcloth was plopped over Andrew’s head, and consequently Neil’s hand. “Do I need to take your temperature?”
“Not if you want to keep your fingers.” Andrew replied. The washcloth did feel nice.
“You need to stay hydrated. And you,” Aaron’s faux-disgust indicated he was speaking to Neil. “You are going to catch it from him, you should let him rest.”
The opposite of what Andrew wanted was any more rest. He tensed without meaning to.
“You don’t get to lecture me now. You had your chance when I called you. Don’t blame me because you hung up without getting all the bitchiness out first.” Neil argued.
Andrew turned his face away from his brother so he wouldn’t see him start to smile.
“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Aaron said with a sigh, and Andrew heard him muttering all the way to the kitchen and back. He heard the thunk of two bottles being set on his desk and then, “Drink fluids. Get better.”
The door shut when he left again, and Neil’s hand resumed its ministrations in his hair.
Andrew let out a slow, slow breath.
This was his reality, his family, his life
