Chapter Text
#1.
Eidetic memory had been a curse of Andrew's ever since he was a child — being unable to erase the most vile of memories, especially as a person who had been subjected to pain and horrors of humanity their entire life, was more than enough to drive a person crazy. People tried to force upon him the idea that it was a miracle, possesing such an ability, and berated him for not using it academically or to gain recognition as someone special. It took him meeting Neil to learn how it could become a blessing. Ever since the rabbit — as he liked to call him — joined Palmetto Foxes, Minyard begun memorising everything about him; the official excuse was that it was unintentional and beyond his control or (after a while, when Josten's past begun resurfacing) that it was all to see though his fake identity and make it crumble like a castle meticulously built with thin, worn-out cards. The truth was, he felt secure in knowing all of Neil's habits, fears and likes. Nobody could strangle the admittion out of him, but he felt good being the one who knew Neil when he didn't even know himself. It surely made dealing with him a lot easier, being aware of what might cause a certain reaction, what could lead to him turning back into a rabbit despite being a fox for so long.
And it helped him figure out one thing. Or at least hint it and foreshadow to Andrew, the thought lingering it the back of his mind for a long time before the dots connected and the facade thinned enough for the plaster to fall to the ground and turn into dust.
Neil had been acting odd ever since his father died. At first it got the Foxes convinced that after neither the yakuza nor the mafia were a problem anymore, the boy (because that was how they saw him) felt safe enough to let the real persona seep through. Yet, Minyard knew it was too long of a shot in trying to explain the jigsaw that man was. It was too straight-forward, too logical for a guy like Neil Abram Josten, whose life never made sense and when it did, he felt too itchy in the comfiness not to run and destroy all he achieved once again. Andrew promised himself never to fix him, only to try and solve him like an equation or a poem that needs a just a little prodding and time before the meaning begins to unfurl. However now he wasn't so set on his resolution to let him live unbothered.
It was such pondering that lulled him to sleep and welcomed each morning the past few weeks, or at times kept him up in place of his usual nightmares. Andrew has never expected that he would once dream about horrors of another person, not his own. It happened that day too; he woke up at seven, his head already pounding with exhaustion of ruminating about Neil in his sleep. He could do only as much as groan to show his displeasure, before he had to be up on his feet, silent again. He climbed down the ladder of his bunk bed, expecting Josten already up and running around the campus at the ungodly hour, but he stilled as his eyes settled on the familiar silhouette still in bed. The auburn hair was splayed across the pillow, not staining it with a cheap hairdye he used to dunk on his hair anymore, his chest was raising slowly beneath the duvet, expanding so deeply Andrew might have never witnessed a state of such serenity in Neil. His brows drew closer, eyes observing the figure with confusion that blended into concern. He dwelled whether the previous day could be so exhausting to leave the junkie sprawled on the mattress instead of using up all the pent-up energy, but there was none he came up with. He decided not to bother him though — he deserved all the rest he could until his senior years and if it were up to Andrew, he would get it 24/7.
Alas it wasn't, so he could well let him sleep in. Minyard left their shared bedroom, only now noticing how loud Kevin's snoring must have been for the silence in the living room to be thicker than in the other room. He entered the kitchen and went through his morning routine — hot coffee overwhelmingly sweet from the chocolate syrup for him, a bitter one with a dab of honey for Neil waiting on the counter, then a bowl of lucky charms eaten too quickly and the amount of milk making him so sick he had to leave some of the cereal for later. After that he went to the bathroom and changed (he was even able to do it without searching for the phantom handprints on him, Bee would call it a good day then): a pair of sweatpants and a black sweatshirt switched for jeans and a black sweather, not much in the color and originality department for today.
As he reached for the doorhandle, he hesitated, hearing shuffling in the kitchen. Damn him, must have been too loud. Not that he cared all that much, of course. With his eyes already rolling at the prospect of someone bothering him so early in the morning, he opened the door, only to find the junkie eating. His cereal. The cereal he always called too sweet and reminding him of dumpster diving in Michigan. Andrew's usually blank face was now a full display of what he was feeling and it was massive confusion. He walked up not-so-silently to the suspect, glaring down at him.
“What are you doing exactly?” he asked with a monotone voice, tilting his head as he looked down, the only time he could see the top of the auburn hair. Soon blue eyes pierced into him, wider than usual, not holding the sass he was used to. Andrew noticed how jerky the action was and couldn't help but add: “Rabbit.”
“Oh, I thought you weren't going to eat that.. 'cause you alwasy leave me something to eat... Sorry.” It was a response Minyard didn't expect. The words, maybe — Neil wasn't always snarky, after all. But the tone in which it was said did not sit right with Andrew; it was too apologetic for a person who took pride in making as many savoir-vivre mistakes as he possibly could. He didn't comment when Neil stood up quickly, neither when he stood beside him stiffly with an unreadable expression.
“Whatever,” he mumbled before pushing the bowl into Neil's direction and walking out of their dorm, hoping to find some solace on the roof.
#2.
Another time that left Andrew speechless (which wasn't such a migre and insignificant thing) was barely a few days later. The older Foxes were hosting a movie night — it happened every other Friday now that the season was over and their schedules weren't so packed. The trips to Columbia had to become limited due to that, but somehow no one seemed bothered by it. If it were up to Andrew, he would go to none, nevertheless he forced himself to participate, if only for Neil; after all, Nicky vowed it was all to make him more culturally versatile.
It was at a night like this, when Neil acted out of character again. The movie chosen by Renee was Disney's Atlantis, one of the only animated movies she remembered watching as a child. For the first time none of the other Foxes have seen it before... Except for Neil. The boy enthusiastically leaned forward as he saw the intro, moving from his place on the couch beside Andrew to the floor. He hugged his knees close, resting his chin between them as his eyes zeroed on the screen, blind and deaf to the rest of the world.
“We have seen it!” he exclaimed shyly with a grin, his hands playing with the long sleeves of Kevin's sweather he had on (it was cold and Andrew wasn't giving away his only clean one, so Kevin had to step in). The blonde leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees as he loomed over the boy, tilting his head and cocking one of his brows in question.
“Who's we?” Matt asked, baffled, scratching the back of his neck. Nicky just shot him a glare, not wanting the other man to shut Neil out the moment he has shown interest and gleamed with joy at something other than Exy.
Maybe it was a justified reaction from him, because the next second the auburn stiffled, back straightening and the stimming gone. His eyelids fell just slightly, giving him a tired— No, guarded look. His back brushed over Andrew's shins so he scooted subtly forward, hoping for the action not to be noticed by anybody, but Minyard's watchful eye spotted it either way.
“I meant, I've seen it at the theatre once, when they took my class on a school trip there. Mary couldn't forbid me, how would that look if a mother didn't let her child go watch a movie, right?” he spoke with a shrug, clearing his throat mid sentence as an unrecognised accent seeped through. “I, uhm, well, I've already watched it, so you don't need my presence here, right? I'll go, leave you to it...”
And with that, he left. The Foxes were speechless as much as Andrew was, looking over his shoulder as the door closed gently behind the rabbit. No, not rabbit, he sensed something new this time. He turned back around only to find almost all eyes drilling into him for answers. As though he had Neil all figured out; he might for the most part, although — apparently — not today. Copying his boyfriend, he left without another word.
“So...” Nicky started, gaining attention from the group. “We're just gonna pretend that it's another Neil thing and ignore that?”
“For fuck's sake, Nicky, just shut up,” Dan groaned and pressed play on the remote.
#3.
Neil was terribly out of it this week — waking up at ungodly hours with a faint contour of a nightmare etched into his vision, with scratches on his wrists he swore weren't his own doing, zoning out whenever he was left alone for more than a few seconds. It was concerning to the Foxes and Wymack, how easy it was for him to flinch away from what should be familiar and safe. Whenever somebody dared to comment on it though, Andrew shut them down immediately; he didn't need Neil to feel the pressure of concern and attention weighing on him when he was just as lost at the others. The auburn promised Minyard that after Baltimore there would be no more lies between them and Andrew knew the oath hasn't been broken.
The team was enjoying their trip to Columbia, or at least some were, walking around the city at dusk. The streets were busy during the friday evening, people enjoying the pubs and clubs as the weekend began. Andrew walked at the back of the group, observing his team: Aaron guided the group with Katelyn glued to his side, right behind him walked Renee, strolling calmly beside Allison who couldn't stop taking pictures of the pink sunset with her new digital camera, while Kevin tried not to be obvious with his peeking at the pictures above her shoulder. Dan had her arm hooked with Matt's, chatting away to Neil about something Andrew couldn't hear, mainly because Nicky was right next to his ear, ranting about something Erik had prepared for when he went back to Germany last month. Minyard was listening only with one ear, but he registered most of the boring story, humming once in a while whenever Hemmick grew quiet.
As they walked through the streets, Andrew registered how Neil had started glancing around anxiously. This rabbit-like behaviour must have started when they first parked somewhere on the street — the moment the auburn left the Maserati, he froze, earning a dozen of questions from everybody when they couldn't shake him out of the odd, lethargic state. He didn't give them any verbal reply, but his gaze lingering on a silver BMW E30-something was enough of an answer for Andrew. Ever since then, Dan has been trying to divert the man's attention from whatever was bothering him, Matt quipping in every now and then. However, it wasn't enough.
A group of young guys passed them, with one of them turning around to yell at his friend who was stalling behind. “Stefan!” he exlaimed with a laugh.
Neil's steps faltered, his body jerking to the source of the sound, the shade of blue changing in his eyes. His muscles stiffened as he looked around, jumping away from Nicky as the man stumbled into him.
“Shit, sorry, man, I didn't see— You good?” he asked warily, hesitantly placing his palm on Neil's shoulder, but Andrew grabbed him forcefully, pushing him away. Minyard didn't care enough to feel guilty about his reaction, his gaze stuck on Josten freaking out in front of him.
“Was ist los?” Neil (?) asked, eyes jumping around him as he tried to locate the source of the shout. He looked distraught as he kept up his search, only growing more lost with each second. Andrew noticed how his eyes would linger on the english words written on shop signs, the street names foreign to the man, which could be guessed by the way Neil's gaze was forced to focus on the unfamiliar words yet it didn't bring any recognition to his eyes. The blue was murky, distant, overshadowed by gray clouds of confusion.
“Why is he speaking German all of a sudden-?”
“Shut up, Nicky-! But true to that, what the fuck is he on again?” Allison countered, crossing her arms and giving Neil a hesitant once-over, her bottom lip pulled between her teeth and her lipstick smudging over them. She was concerned, just like everybody else. Especially that if at least one of the ex-Monsters was confused about the situation, then it meant it was not common for something like that to happen.
Andrew ignored them deliberately, moving to stand in front of the copper-haired man, pushing him under the nearest wall with just his stern gaze. He glared at the group, but his eyes hung on his twin for a little longer — Aaron didn't seem angered, as he usually would whenever Neil freaked out over something (or when Neil did anything, to be fair); he was staring with something akin to understanding, his brain whirring intensely beneath his skull, the past years he spent reading his sorrows away in the library coming in handy. He knew something, Andrew thought, but gave up. There would be a time and place for that later.
“Alles gut, Neil. Du bist nicht Stefan, ja? Wir gehen in den Eden's, wir sind in Columbia,” Andrew tried to get through to him, the language a little rusty ever since he has started to communicate with Neil in Russian and there was no need to keep secrets with his family anymore. The familiar language must have done the trick, because Neil's gaze rose to meet Andrew's, a shuddered breath escaping his lips in a weak attempt to say something else. Minyard was quick to shut him up with another salve of somewhat comforting words. “Ponimayesh', chto ya govoryu? Or should I keep on switching languages until you do?”
Neil (?) shook his head, pressing a hand to it as he brushed back his hair, which was angrily poking at his eyes. He was restless, his attention splitting from the man in front of him to those who yelled the familiar name, then back to the discomfort of being in his own skin and his mind feeling heavy.
“Keine Ahnung...” he managed somehow. “Wo- Ah, ja, Kolumbia...”
Minyard pursed his lips, glancing back at the group and brushing his own hair back. He caught Aaron's stare and quickly diverted his eyes to Matt, before speaking up. “I'm taking him to the house, I'll drive back to take them home if any of you give me a call. Boyd, Renee, make sure no one lays a hand on anybody of mine at Eden's.”
Matt gulped nervously before nodding frantically, Dan snickering behind his back at how scared he was, though she shot Andrew a glare to let him know that there was no responsibility hanging over Matt if anything did happen. Renee, on the other hand, smiled warmly and ushered the group to leave the two alone, resuming their walk to Eden's. After barely a few steps the Foxes started whispering to each other, rumours and quips already starting to flood, lack of understanding of the whole situation getting to them. Andrew paid them no mind as he reached for Neil (Stefan) and let his fingers wrap around the other man's wrist, leading him back to the Maserati, silently praying for the absence of a certain BMW.
#4.
One of the boulders, neither Neil nor Andrew could jump over during their healing journey, was Andrew's ever-lingering trauma. It often seeped into daily life, something supposedly disconnected from their sex life, and it only hinted to how much it affected Minyard during the actual act of intimacy. Neil — the martyr he was — was very careful of his partner's boundaries; even the faintest lines he drew were blaring red to Neil's eyes and he would never allow himself to cross them even by mistake. Yet what that brought was complete disregard to his own limits. It didn't help that Neil suppressed a quite large chunk of his past memories and the Foxes learned about that only through the unexpected responses to triggers no one was aware of.
And it happened again, during one of the worst times it could have. If he were religious (which he wasn't, despite Renee and Nicky's heavy influence on him), Andrew would have thought it was God's amazing plan to either test his patience, that was running thin already, or to pull a prank on his devotee, which would only signalise His very shitty sense of humour. Alas, Andrew was the complete opposite, so he knew it was just his great luck of combining his mental health issues with someone else's and wishfully thinking the mixture wouldn't blow up in his face.
Neil was the one who suggested they spend the night heated instead of simply going to sleep in separate bunks as they should have. The moment Andrew gave a "yes", Neil was in his face, leaning in expectantly for a kiss. Their lips crashed, tongues slick with saliva, as they rushed through it at first before subsiding, allowing themselves to find a rhytm not as hurried as their racing heartbeats. Neil sighed softly, backing towards his lower bunk, knowing Andrew would follow without unnecessary hands pulling him towards it. And he was right — his boyfriend didn't falter in steps even for a moment, content in what they were having for the moment. The ghost of Andrew's fingers brushed over the unclothed wrists as they awkwardly scrambled onto the bed and Neil shivered slightly. Minyard gave him a wary and assesing glare to which he responded with a slow nod, a substitute for a verbal consent that became allowed barely a month before. It was enough for now and the blonde had no way of thinking it over and over in his head as he was asked another set of questions ensuring their safety.
“Touch, yes or no?”
“Where?”
“Still a yes?”
It felt so good to be heard and cared for to the point they got carried away. Not "too carried away", because every carelessness was wrong and not up for gradation of what was bad and what worse. The usual careful awareness of Andrew should have been ringing all the alarm bells in his head, a clear signal of something bad is about to happen; but they were eerily silent and maybe that was the reason he made a mistake.
Neil scooted back on the mattress, estimating the distance wrong, which resulted in him hitting the back of his head against the wall. And from there shit went downhill; he jumped at the sudden contact, making Andrew yank his hands away from him and losing balance on his knees, unstable on the soft, dipping bed; he tried to find somewhere to hold himself upright and his palm brushed against the top of his boyfriend's jeans, landing on his clothed thigh. It wasn't a private area, but it was close enough to send Neil's brain shutting down.
His eyes glazed over as he blinked a few times before they shot wide open. He flinched away from Andrew, hitting the cool concrete once more, though now it seemed like he preferred this scenario over being anywhere close to the other man. Minyard's reaction was similar, a sense of dread filling his mind and pulverising any rational thought he held. He took a deep breath in, holding it for a few seconds before letting out even longer, a technique Bee taught him during the first month of their sessions. He wasn't a person who would ever put anyone's needs before his own, sacrificing his mental health for somebody's comfort, but in that specific moment he realised he would need to. Neil wasn't equipped with the same skills as him, which meant he wouldn't be able to pull himself out of the episode he was having, and Andrew couldn't risk that. Not now when the man was finally starting to feel at ease after the hardships of the past few months.
“Neil...” he started, but it was all to no avail.
The boy placed a protective arm over his chest and jeans, pressing down on the material as though he was scared to be rid of them against his will. It shook Andrew to the core as he hoped once that his boyfriend could at least escape this horrifying trauma. But judging by how protective he was over his clothes and own body, keeping his knees tucked under his chin, stuck together so nobody could force them open... It hinted enough.
“I promise I'll be good,” Neil whimpered, his voice small and cracking, laced with something rough in the pronunciation of the Rs. “Don't ask for her to come here, she doesn't need to-”
Andrew's brows narrowed as he tried to keep the repulsion out of his face, his expression a mask of neutrality before it softened to ease Neil's fear. Or not Neil's. He wasn't so sure anymore.
“I won't allow anybody near you... Not even myself,” he added for a safe measure, backing out. His own breath was still heavy, skin prickling and begging to be scrubbed raw for hurting- No, he couldn't allow his mind to get sidetracked when the panting of the boy in front of him was so loud it could almost drown a person's thoughts. “I'll stand back here and you can stay on the bed, alright?”
The auburn-haired boy peeked from beneath his wild bangs that covered his blue eyes, the same eyes assesing Andrew for danger. When he deemed it safe for now, he allowed himself to wiggle a bit on the bed, his whole body cramping from the odd position he forced himself into. There was still hesitance left, manifesting in the way Neil's — not Neil's — thumb landed between his lips, teeth grinding on his nail. Andrew would deem it disgusting if it weren't the only thing that soothed the boy at the moment; he could keep his opinion to himself this once.
Andrew watched the Neil-not-Neil with curiousity, noticing the childlike behaviour in him. He figured it must have been the age regression Bee mentioned once when she tried to figure out Minyard's coping mechanisms. Who would have thought it would be Neil who would present these symptoms. Andrew's lips pursed, heart clenching only for his chest to turn into an empty void, ridden of the unnecessary organ that was only a cause of so much pain. He watched as the boy brought the blankets closer to his body, tilting his head in confusion as he noticed his legs to be too long, as though they didn't belong to him.
“Do you need space?” the man questioned calmly, gaining the boy's attention.
“I fit just fine,” Neil replied, speech a little slurred and slow. His blue irises stuck to watching Andrew by the door, following a pattern only known to him — checking the hands, then the face, quickly diverting to watching feet, before glancing at the palms once more. A technique learnt to survive surprises.
“Bunny, that's not what I meant. Do you want me to leave?” he tried again, not moving an inch in case it disrupted the pattern that held the boy together.
Neil looked to the side for a moment, his eyes glazing over once more as he zoned out, however his statue was focused despite all. Almost as though he were listening, even if Andrew was silent. After a moment of the frozen state he nodded to himself and looked back at Minyard, a small smile threatening to grace his lips, but visibly camouflaged. “I'd like that!”
Without any more words, Andrew left the bedroom. He knew by the time he joined Neil again, his hands would be scrubbed red and burns blistering from hot water.
#5.
Abram was Neil's anchor. Hearing the name leave Andrew's lips reminded him he was home; it was like the sight of Ithaca drawing closer to Odysseus' ship, a promise of steady land beneath his feet after years of hardships on the angry Mediterranean Sea. No wonder that Andrew's fear was of the name becoming one of the many triggers they discovered during their own journey — this one with the support of Bee as she guided the two through dealing with PTSD and the trauma responses that began to intensify as Neil grew more comfortable around his new family, ready to process all that has happened to him. Yet the urge to run and leave it all behind was growing strong in him parallel to the feeling of newfound safety. Things he once recognised only as "Neil's" became Stefan's, Nathaniel's, William's, and all others' whose names he wore as his own at some point. The association was dangerous — Andrew wouldn't be able to count on his ten fingers or even twenty, if he borrowed Josten's, all the times the man got lost in his futile attempts to merge his past memories into one story and call it his own, call it Neil's.
“Abram, listen to me, it's just a memory.” Andrew was finding it particularly difficult to guide Neil through this flashback. At times like that touch usually fixed it all like hot cocoa soothed the other man, but tonight it all came to no avail, because the boy would not let Minyard touch him. Which was alright, he would never press for anything, especially after getting a "no", but he could see how Neil was spiralling without a palm on the back of his neck or simply a grouding touch on his shoulder. He was crying silent tears, never one to make much sound when hurting, clawing at his throat for air. Only short gasps left him as he cowered in the corner between a nightstand and a bed. “You're in Palmetto, with me, Riko's dead just as your father is. Abram, look at me.”
And then, like a switch, Abram did look at him. His pale eyes pierced into him, shooting to stare at his palms as though Andrew was about to strike him. This made Minyard recoil inside, however he couldn't show this moment of disturbance. He stilled, palms pushed behind him but still visible, just away from the frightened boy. He pursed his lips as he watched the rabbit retreat, leaving Neil hollowed out. Or maybe there was someone inside, just not somebody he recognised.
“Neil?” he tried again, wary of the other name, but he received no response to it. "Abram?" That did the trick. Blue eyes met hazel again, staring. He couldn't imagine the boy to ever be even more quiet but there he was, disobeying all of the Universe's laws. Andrew could tell there were still waves raging beneath the marble surface of the statue he morphed into.
Abram, because apparently now it was the only name he would respond to, placed his palm over his lips to keep quiet. He shut his eyes, fists grabbing at his own hair, at first hurting and tugging before they wrapped around his head protectively.
“Please, don't,” he mumbled, saying that terrible word that made Andrew nauseous, bile rising up in his throat and muscles tightening involuntarily. His skin itched as though a thousand insects crawled beneath it, the ones he observed on the floor of many of the foster homes, eating away at the wooden panels. He gulped with difficulty, knowing he had to push past his own boundaries just this once (again), because it wasn't Neil who made the mistake. Not entirely at least. He couldn't punish him by walking away, when it wasn't the person he warned about not pleading around him.
“What do you need?” he asked, straight-forward, never assuming.
“Nothing. I'll be fine. I always am,” he promised as if it was an incantation drilled into his head long ago, as if he truly believed what he was saying. But Andrew had to respect that.
He took a few steps back, sitting by the opposite wall. He wouldn't leave the room, not when Neil was a flight risk, or worse, but he could do so little and give him space.
Abram, he thought, eyeing the boy from beneath his blonde bangs, analysing him. No fight left in his body, hiding away. Minyard wouldn't be surprised if he saw the other crawling under the bed and staying there until he came back to his senses. It was a pathetic sight, so familiar it had the strength to yank Andrew away from the real world, dragging him through his inner turmoil, locking him in the prison of his own mind. He reached for the lighter in his pocket, tracing the metal edge of its brim, before pressing on it to release a flame and light a cigarette. He was so busy on the action, grounding himself, he almost missed the quiet sob let out by the boy, forcefully silenced the same second it left his lips.
“Should I put it out?” he asked, not trusting non-verbal communication at the moment. To his small relief he only earned a shake of the head to which he hummed. He let the cigarette hang between his fingers as the smoke wafted towards Abram. The boy inhaled deeply, his eyes a den without a bottom, full of sorrow. It was a spark contrast to the usual blank look that graced Neil’s face whenever he was far away, stuck in the past. But it’s not Neil, he had to remind himself.
“She’s dead, right?”
Hazel eyes lazily met blue ones, staring, with no answer hidden in them. He nodded once, a calm statue to hold onto while Abram solved the puzzle of himself. His expression fell even more, deep anguish he had only ever seen on one person: Kevin, the moment he learnt about Riko’s death. It wasn’t true, unstained grief or love — no, it was dirty with pain that was given in place of affection, the feeling sticky with soot-like odium. But it was strong nonetheless, hollowing the heart.
After burning through seven cigarettes without Andrew smoking them, Abram started to move, stretching his back muscles with a quiet, incoherent groan. He blinked furiously, rubbing his eyes with the heel of his palm, before managing to eye Andrew.
“Neil or Abram?” Andrew asked simply, watching him stand up and stretch his arms with a pained sigh at the sore muscles. He looked down at Minyard quizically, taking his sweet time in registering the words before speaking up, his tongue heavy.
“Uh... Neil? Both my names..” he slurred just slightly to which he earned an amused scoff from Andrew. Neil looked down at his feet with frustration, annoyed at the sudden speech impediment. “The fuck’s wrong w’me.”
Andrew didn’t respond, he simply wrapped his hand around the back of Neil’s neck and rested his forehead against his, breathing deeply in silent relief.
Maybe Bee was right.