#No one likes Neil being in Binghamton | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jtl-fics · 7 months

Text

Fluent Freshman - Part 40

The Winter Banquet.

Where the Spring Championship announcements happen for Collegiate Exy. A formal event meant to allow the ERC to showcase how their stars weren’t just brutes on the court. Look at how beautiful and handsome they all were. Look at how they danced together. Look at the smiles and laughter and-

Wait.

No.

Put that down.

Who had the great idea to put the Jackals next to the Terrapins? Things have been tense between the teams since the Captain of the Terrapins stole the Captain of the Jackal’s date during the Fall Banquet!

I thought we all agreed that there would never be any more steak knives! What was the point of paying for all the pre-cut tenderloins if we’re just going to give them steak knives?!

Really gotta find an intern to pin this fiasco on.

Oh great the Foxes are leaving! Did we even get a picture of Kevin Day in his suit? Fuck it’s going to be a two intern firing kind of day isn’t it.

Someone get an eye on the Ravens before they try and grab some hapless idiot and sacrifice him to revive Riko Moriyama. If there’s even one more damn tabloid with a blurry photo of ‘Riko Moriyama’ to prove that his death was faked then heads will roll.

Honestly, the biopic that some Edgar Allan Film student is making about him seems pretty interesting. The ERC just wishes people would stop taking pics of the ‘lead actor’ and sending it to tabloids as proof that the King hadn’t died.

Fuck, the Foxes left before we got any decent pictures.

Well just great.

You’d think that after all these years of the Foxes leaving early they’d have learned that getting pictures as they arrive is the most important thing.

Oh thank god it looks like the Trojans are starting to mediate the fight. You can always count on good ol’ Jeremy.

Fuck.

A Raven got too close to Jean Moreau and now Jeremy Knox has punched a Backliner. Great. The Trojans have formed ranks around Moreau but the kid’s just too damn tall. Someone has hit him in the head with an especially saucy meatball, he’s not injured, just confused. The Trojans are acting like it’s a gunshot he just took to the head.

The refreshment table just seemed to collapse in on itself and god wasn’t that just an allegory for this entire damn evening.

Anita Flores sighs as she watches yet another banquet go down in a riot. Honestly, she doesn’t know why they think these will end up differently. She finds herself often missing when she used to coordinate banquets for football teams.

She sighs and thinks about her least favorite interns.

Alex had been getting a bit too cocky lately. He’d make a good sacrifice.

***

(Three hours earlier)

The Palmetto State Foxes were on their way to the Winter Banquet. From what FF understood it was categorically always a 90% chance of a shitshow. Honestly FF was surprised that the percentage was that low.

There was a general tenseness in the air surrounding it that went beyond the Banquet’s propensity to become a fight.

This year the Winter Banquet was going to be held up at the Binghamton Bearcat’s stadium. The nation knew the story from the news and FF knew the story from both that and from the Foxes themselves who were there at the time in bits and pieces.

Captain Neil had been kidnapped from this stadium and then he’d been tortured. FF hadn’t even been on the team when it had happened and he was anxious about Captain Neil going anywhere near the stadium.

“He was just…he was just gone.” Matt had said, “Neil was gone and Kevin said that he was probably dead when Andrew got back with his phone.” He continued as the two of them sat up late in the living room of the dorm one night back in early October.

“I thought Andrew was going to kill me y’know.” Kevin had said bottle in hand as FF tried to help him up the stairs because apparently he would 100% guarantee vomit if he was in the nausea box. “I thought that maybe I deserved it, since I didn’t help Neil. I just let him walk to his death.” He said and despite assurances that he wouldn’t puke FF’s shoes did not make it through that journey unscathed.

“We called…we called everywhere.” Nicky had stared up at the ceiling of his hospital room, “Andrew was adamant that he was still alive even though Kevin kept saying he was dead and that dead was the nicest thing he could hope for. I thought that was a terrible thing to say.” Nicky curled up closer to him.

“I told you, Andrew dragged me like I was nothing to get to Neil. I don’t think he even noticed the guns.” Wymack said to Abby as the two sat on the back porch during Aras’ going away party. “His eyes were on Neil.” he gestures towards where Andrew was watching Captain Neil wrestle with Matt.

“He looked like shit.” Aaron had said unable to stomach a diagram of different degrees of burn in his medical book. “At least he was alive.” He adds.

“A hero.” Andrew’s voice had been what could be considered teasing from Andrew, “Someone who looks like her.” he had said touching Captain Neil’s burn scars as they drove away from the stadium after coming back to pick FF up.

Captain Neil had come to him the day before they were set to drive out, “Take me somewhere no one will find me for an hour.” FF hadn’t quite understood what Captain Neil meant, he never hid anywhere. People just failed to realize where he was.

“Ok.” he says instead of trying to explain because being unnoticed means no one hid codes from him.

The roof of the Library wasn’t that much different from the roof of the Tower, only that it was taller and bigger. Captain Neil had shut his phone off after texting something, likely to Andrew, and then put it into his pocket.

FF settled on the roof, sat with his back against a heating vent to stay warm. Captain Neil settled next to him and they sat in silence. It felt like back at the start of this where Captain Neil and Andrew would come find him and just sit in silence.

It was nice. He had missed-

“They act like the stadium is the thing that kidnapped me.” Captain Neil says.

Oh okay, quiet time is over apparently.

FF doesn’t say anything, figuring that nothing he could say right now would be the right thing and maybe Captain Neil just needs to talk through some stuff.

“That stadium is where I thought I’d have my last good memory.” Captain Neil explains, “I’m not scared of it and yet Andrew’s acting like I’ll die if I’m left alone for more than 2 seconds while we’re there. Every time we go there they all act like the most important thing in the world is that I get on that bus at the end of the night.” Captain Neil explains.

FF does remember how Andrew had grabbed Captain Neil after their October game up in Binghamton. How Captain Neil had complained bitterly but had gone after looking at Andrew.

“He’s dead!” Captain Neil exclaimed and FF couldn’t help but look over at the entrance and hoped no one heard them. “He’s dead! I watched him get shot! He can’t kidnap me again!” Captain Neil continued to yell and FF couldn’t help but worry that they’d be heard below, or worse bother a student trying to study below.

FF reached out and touched Captain Neil’s arm and bright blue eyes turned to him, “We’re on a library. Don’t yell.” FF said and Captain Neil looked at him incredulously.

Then he laughed. He laughed and laughed and FF was worried that he’d gone and broken his Captain.

He suddenly felt bad about his own bout of hysterical laughter a while back.

“Thanks Smith.” Captain Neil had said with a smile.

They had sat up there until it was dark and Andrew had started calling FF’s phone and Captain Neil took the call to say he was coming back.

Now they’re on the bus, dressed nicely, and on their way up to Binghamton’s stadium. Captain Neil and Andrew are hidden in the far back of the bus with Andrew looking far more like a watchdog than anything else the closer they got to their destination.

Captain Neil had seemed largely resigned to this treatment at this point. Eventually they were at the stadium and shown to their seats. They were sat across from the Trojans and it seemed like the rest of the team was quite pleased with that.

“Smith!” Captain Jeremy Knox is smiling at him, “Nice to see you again bud, nice name change too.” he says.

“It’s nice to see you too, Captain Jeremy.” FF says and doesn’t notice how Captain Neil’s head whips around to look at him.

“You two know each other?” Nicky asks looking between the two of them with excitement.

“Of course! We offered Smith a spot at the USC Trojans.” Captain Jeremy says and FF feels his stomach cramp at the memory.

That had been terrifying.

Coach Rheman and Captain Jeremy wanted to sit down to make their offer with his parents. He was still 17 and unable to sign anything legal without their permission. He’d tried to decline and move past them and Captain Jeremy had put the final nail in the coffin at the time for any thought that he could go to college on the power of his apparent Exy capabilities.

“I saw in your file that you have brothers! USC always gives a second look at student applicants who already have siblings in the university. You could go to school with your brothers!” he had smiled brightly like he wasn’t issuing FF one of the most terrifying threats he’d ever heard in his entire life.

He had given the firmest ‘No thank you, I’m not interested in playing Exy in college.’ he could and was running to his Grandma’s to breath into a bag for twenty minutes.

“I see you changed your mind about playing Exy in college.” Captain Jeremy said with the same smile that still feels like a threat.

“Coach Wymack and Captain Dan were convincing.” he says and looks to see if there’s any way he can move further away from Captain Jeremy’s attention.

“Can I ask what convinced you to be a Fox?” Captain Jeremy asks, “I’m always trying to see what support we should be offering. I found out last year that we missed out on Andrew because we didn’t offer spots to Aaron or Nicky. I thought since you had brothers that’d be the thing that got you.” Captain Jeremy leans across the table but stops when he notices the Foxes all tense. “Whoa, what’s up?” he asks.

Jean Moreau sighs from next to Captain Jeremy, “Not everyone wants to go to college with their family, Jeremy.” Jean says, “Did it not cross your mind that he changed his entire name?” he asks with a raised brow.

Jeremy blinks, “Oh,” he looks at FF, “I guess that wasn’t the right thing to offer.” he says leaning back in his chair.

“I guess I should thank you for offering that?” Nicky says wryly before turning to look at FF, “You look better in orange anyways.” he says.

“Thank you Nicky.” FF returns loyally.

The banquet gets started shortly afterwards. Food is served. The bar is opened. People are talking. FF finds himself relaxing the longer the conversations around him go on. Matt is talking with a backliner on the Trojan line named Todd in good cheer. Captain Neil, Kevin, and Jean are all talking about the latest updates with Ichirou in French with the occasional gesture towards FF. Jean Moreau looks at him with a raised eyebrow but gives him a single nod when Captain Neil explains what happened.

Jeremy is chatting with Jack and even Jack was finding it hard to maintain his usual level of rudeness in the face of such unbridled positive energy. Nicky was talking with Katelyn and Alvarez. Aaron was chatting with a fellow med student college athlete who was an offensive dealer.

It was shaping up to be a good night.

MASTERPOST FOR ALL PARTS OF FLUENT FRESHMAN AU

#Fluent Freshman AU #Jeremy Knox essentially threatening FF on accident #With a huge smile #Fucking kills me #Winter Banquet getting into full swing #Ya'll know where it's heading but not all the parts that happen #Foxes are on high alert #No one likes Neil being in Binghamton #There was definitely an all-hands meeting about how Neil is not allowed to go anywhere alone #That if a security guard approaches Neil you treat that security guard like an active threat #Nicky just thinks it's Andrew wanting an excuse to hold his BF's hand all night #Andrew: “Smith you're on covert operations. Keep an eye out for threats.”#FF: “Aye aye Captain.”#Neil: “OH SO NOW HE'S A CAPTAIN TOO? WHAT'S NEXT?!”#Neil is butt hurt about the whole “Captain Jeremy” thing #He could accept it for Dan #But JEREMY?#Neil's gonna need a lot of TLC to get over this betrayal TBFH #In adult news #My closing is next week Friday!#Wooo #I really speedran the whole owning property thing #Thank you bullshit luck #AFTG #AFTG AU #AFTG OC #Andreil #Wow 40 parts on this thing #Still wild #Thanks for joining me on this ride

218 notes · View notes

jingerhead · 2 years

Note

Hi idk if you’re accepting prompts but if you are would you write something with the concept of Cassandra!Andrew? Like Andrew being cursed like Cassandra of Troy to see the future but no one believing his warnings?

Oh my god this concept just makes me want to sob. Like, imagine Andrew knowing about Neil being taken, trying to warn him, and Neil the stupid martyr that he is just tries to play it cool so that Andrew isn’t getting involved. Andrew knowing about EVERYTHING before it comes to pass? The ANGST POTENTIAL? I had to write just a little something for this, I hope you enjoy it anon oh my god.

This is just such a good concept I love it, you don’t have to restrict it in canon either - we could jump to something like fantasy!!! (my favorite I’m sorry but also not) We need more 'Andrew reading the future' fics I need them JSJS

~*~

Most of the visions Andrew had came at the worst of times. Case in point: it was time to get back on the bus to Binghamton, and he could feel a headache coming on already. He didn’t focus on the fact that Kevin had wandered off to talk to Dan and instead headed towards the back, where he could work through the upcoming vision in peace. He sat down on the cushioned bench and crossed his arms, the headache growing more painful with each passing second, until his vision went white.

The first thing that Andrew saw was himself on the court. He was watching the game unfold across the field, the large clock ticking down in the second half. It didn’t last long, suddenly shifting to the team heading towards the locker rooms in good spirits, the rush of noise something Andrew didn’t pay attention to as he looked around, as though searching. He didn’t find what he was looking for by the time the vision shifted, melting into a different hallway, one where Andrew was staring at Neil.

The look on Neil’s face was something almost indescribable. A strange relaxation despite the clear tension in his jaw, the way his eyebrows were drawn up as though in sadness or pain, and the glossiness in his dark blue eyes. But the thing that caught Andrew off guard the most was the smile Neil was wearing - he could count on two hands the number of times he remembered Neil smiling as though he couldn’t help it, like he was genuinely happy and the upwards turn of his lips showed it. This wasn’t one of those times. This smile was different.

Then, Neil opened his mouth. “Thank you,” he said, voice quiet but not a whisper. “You were amazing.”

The vision shifted again. This time, Andrew found himself standing in a rioting crowd, unable to duck in time to avoid an elbow tossed back towards his face. He barely felt the sharp stab of pain.

And then it shifted again, only this time Andrew was running through a mostly empty parking lot, looking around frantically. He spotted some orange towards his right, so he ran to it, freezing when he saw it was a duffle bag and exy racket. One Andrew knew could only belong to one person. He knelt down and looked at it: at the way it had been dropped on its side to display the ‘JOSTEN: 10’ towards the darkened sky. Neil never went anywhere without his duffle bag. He wouldn’t have left it behind if his life depended on it.

Andrew stood up and looked around one last time, still holding onto the long strap attached to the duffle. “Neil!” he screamed into the empty parking lot.

Very suddenly, Andrew was back in the present moment, headache fading away. He blinked a few times, heart pounding as though he’d actually been running. Every single one of Andrew’s visions came to pass eventually, even if nobody else believed them. This would be no different, and like the other times, Andrew was being warned. Something bad was going to happen tonight, something that would make Neil leave behind his duffle bag and force Andrew to run around the parking lot shouting for him.

“Andrew?”

If he was anyone else, Andrew probably would’ve jumped. Instead, he just let his breath go and looked up to see Neil leaning over the back of the seat in front of his, arms crossed and staring. There seemed to be a hint of concern in his eyes, though this wasn’t the first time Neil had caught him mid-vision.

Instead of playing it cool, like Andrew had been doing ever since he realized nobody would ever, ever believe his words, Andrew sat up straighter. If there was ever the outlier, Neil Josten had proved himself that he would be it. “Listen,” Andrew hissed, making sure to keep his voice quiet. “Something is going to happen tonight.”

Neil nodded. “Okay?”

“After the game, there will be a riot,” Andrew continued. “Stay close to me.”

For a brief second, Andrew thought a spark of understanding flashed through Neil’s eyes. He tricked himself into thinking that Neil was going to believe him, and was going to say ‘yes’ like he had been doing. But instead, Neil seemed to close himself off. “How do you know that?” he asked.

“Don’t deflect,” Andrew said. Neil would take the chance to deflect every second he could, even if the question was warranted at the moment.

“Did you see something?” Neil pushed.

“Yes,” Andrew said, enjoying the flash of surprise that went through Neil’s eyes. “People are going to get hurt and go missing. It’ll be a handful enough keeping track of Kevin.”

“Just keep track of him,” Neil said, completely nonchalant.

“Don’t make me go looking for you,” Andrew said. It was almost a plea.

“Then let me go,” Neil replied, like it was easy. To someone who didn’t know the future, it probably was. “Stand with me, but don’t fight for me. Let me learn to fight for myself.”

The immediate answer Andrew had was a resounding ‘no’. Not after what he’d seen, and especially not with Neil Josten. Though he didn’t have the details, it was clear that Neil did, and he wasn’t going to do any fighting at all. He was being his typical, suicidal martyr self.

Should Andrew have expected anything different?

“Give me a reason to think you’re capable,” Andrew said.

“You wouldn’t have let me watch over Kevin if you didn’t think that I was.”

“You didn’t watch,” Andrew hissed. “You let yourself be bait. You’re the martyr no one asked for or wanted.”

Neil didn’t seem bothered. Andrew really wished he would be. “Maybe I’m tired of being the bait,” Neil said, voice like a rumble to match the engine of the bus. “Maybe I’m being the martyr again. Only one way to find out, right?”

Andrew felt like he was trying to swallow razor blades. “You’ll regret it,” he warned, the image of Neil’s abandoned duffle bag flashing through his eyes like a reminder.

“Maybe,” Neil said again. Andrew was really starting to hate that word and the face Neil made when he stared. “Maybe not.”

Shoulders slumping, Andrew turned to look out the window and attempted to relax against his seat. Once again, the curse was reminding him just why he only let the future pass instead of trying to interfere with it. “Don’t come crying to me when someone breaks your face.”

“Thank you.”

A spike was driven through Andrew’s chest. He wondered how many hours it would be before he heard those words again.

#aftg #aftg fanfic #tfc #tfc fanfic #all for the game #all for the game fanfic #the foxhole court #andreil #andreil fanfic #andriel #andriel fanfic #jinger answers #jinger's works

60 notes · View notes

the-chicken-or-the-banana · 3 years

Note

i had an idea i would love to see from your perspective (you're so good at andreil oh my god) if you wanted to write some stuff about it? i always wondered how andrew reacted when he first found neil missing after the binghampton game (starts pg 235 in the king's men). thoughts? (-- the ttyl blog <3)

omg i literally finished re-reading that scene before seeing your ask skjflsj ~ i hope you like this ! (i'm just realizing that i barely followed ur request and just rambled a lot but that's FINE 😬)

read it on ao3 here :)

«««———»»»

Andrew walked in line to the bus with the rest of the Foxes, mind going a million miles an hour behind his impassive expression.

"Thank you," Neil had said, eyes truer than Andrew had ever seen them. "You were amazing."

Andrew wasn't such a fool for Neil Josten that he couldn't figure out there was something more happening under the surface, something bigger than just an Exy shutout, that he wasn't telling anyone. Something forcing truth out of him.

Neil looked scared.

Apparently, no one else received the memo, because behind him, Matt Boyd kept kicking at Andrew's heels and Andrew could nearly see the nosy smile on Reynold's face. Boyd's voice was drowned out by the cacophony of both jeers and shouts of approval coming from all around them, but he had no doubts that Boyd was fishing for information surrounding his and Neil's "not this" to settle a bet of some sort.

Andrew didn't really care. He was more focused on leaving Binghamton, getting some answers out of Neil, and then kissing him senseless.

Of course, Andrew had no plans to tell Neil of that last item on the list, but he was sure he (and everyone else, apparently) knew anyway.

Maybe not Nicky, though. For all his cousin boasted about having an "incredible gaydar," he tended to be a bit clueless about Andrew.

Andrew's eyes were unfocused, gazing at the bounce of Neil's red curls while his thoughts wandered around nothing at all.

Nothing? his mind mused unhelpfully. Or Neil? Or is that one in the same now?

Shut up, he huffed internally. I hate him.

Lost in his head, it was only until he heard a pained curse from Aaron that he jerked straight and saw the world burning around him.

«««———»»»

Andrew's vision went red.

He nearly would have broken out of line and straight into the tidal wave of rioters had he not noticed the police trying to push back the crowd. He had never trusted the pigs, but Andrew supposed he could let them handle the mess until he'd gotten a chance to check on Aaron at the bus.

He had nearly fooled himself with that thought when an ice cooler sailed through the air and missed Danielle's face by an inch. An enraged shout came from Andrew's right, and he could feel the familiar heat of adrenaline in his stomach that always came when he and Renee sparred.

There was going to be a fight.

No sooner than he had that thought, the crowd around him exploded into madness, nearly running the Foxes over. Andrew may have been ready to throw some punches, but he was not at all prepared for the onslaught of unfamiliar bodies piling on him. Moving around him. Touching him.

Andrew couldn't breathe.

He lost sight of Neil's head in the mess, hoping one of the security guards would bring Neil to safety while Andrew tried to ground himself. What had Bee taught him?

What is your name? Andrew Minyard.

How old are you? 20 years old.

What is upsetting you? Hands. Everywhere.

Can you do something about it? Yes. I can move now.

He felt the glancing blow of someone's elbow on his face, nearly hitting his eye. It was sure to bruise later, but for now, the sharp pain mixed with Bee's words were enough to shake Andrew out of his stupor.

He ducked to the left, neatly missing a thrown shoe and was grateful to his limited stature for once. He kept an eye out for a flash of red, the glint of blue eyes, but seeing that Neil was nearly as short as Andrew himself, the effort was futile.

He'll be fine, Andrew thought. Find Nicky, Aaron, and Kevin, and get to the bus.

To his surprise (or maybe not), Andrew found Reynolds trading fierce blows with someone twice her size, Renee at her back. He caught Renee's glance and she gave him a firm nod of reassurance.

He nodded back, already swiveling to find the rest of his group.

After a few minutes, he spotted Nicky and Kevin huddled together, slowly moving to the edge of the crowd. He caught up and grabbed Nicky's wrist, who jerked away and reared his hand back for a punch before realizing it was Andrew.

Despite it all, Andrew felt a thrum of satisfaction. A few years ago, Nicky had let people beat him down over and over again. At least now he was learning to fight back.

"Oh thank god," Nicky cried, catching Kevin's attention, before his eyes widened. He reached out, remembering himself at the last second. "Andrew... your face, what happened?"

Andrew shrugged. He'd been through worse.

Nicky looked like he wanted to say something, but Kevin cursed loudly and began pushing out of the sea of bodies with renowned vigor.

"It's getting more violent and more people are joining," Kevin said, voice strained. "We need to get out and regroup at the bus."

"Aaron?" Andrew asked. Nicky glanced around a few moments before pointing to his right.

"There!" he exclaimed, and motioned to Kevin to go in that direction. Kevin nodded and they made their way over to Aaron, who was ducking under beer bottles and was nearly smacked in the face by a PSU banner.

"Aaron!" Kevin called, and Aaron's shoulders dropped with relief as he swerved a growing fight and made his way over to them.

Andrew scanned his brother quickly and, after seeing no visible injuries, motioned to start back towards the parking lot. They made their way over to the bus and found Boyd and Danielle standing, the former looking like he'd just lost a fight with a mountain lion.

Danielle was gripping his arm as Abby tended to his wounds, but Andrew heard her say he might need to go to the hospital for the more serious injuries. Boyd looked pained at the thought, but when he glanced up and caught Andrew's eye, he smiled and waved them over.

"Andrew, here," Abby said, noticing his injury. He took an ice pack from her and glanced around.

"Where's Neil?" he asked, choosing to ignore the suggestive look between Boyd and Danielle. Abby shrugged and opened her mouth before her eyes caught on something behind Andrew and she waved.

Andrew turned around to find Renee and Reynolds walking proudly towards them. Reynolds had a mosaic of bruises all over her, and Renee was holding her wrist precariously.

Abby sighed and began treating them as Wymack rounded the front of the bus and finally found his team.

Not the whole team, a ringing voice said in Andrew's head. Neil isn't here yet.

Which was odd, no? He had a security guard in front of him, surely he would have made it here first? Perhaps Wymack had seen him and taken him somewhere. Maybe he was already safe in the bus and Abby hadn’t noticed him.

Andrew pushed past Danielle and boarded the bus, walking the length of it but not finding a loudmouthed striker in its shadows. His stomach became knotted with a curious feeling he slowly identified as dread.

Andrew was at the door of the bus again. He looked at Wymack.

"Where. Is. Neil." he demanded. He saw Wymack's confused expression and before he even said anything, Andrew felt his heart stop.

"I don't know. I thought he was with you."

Reynold's knowing smirk gave way to uncertainty as the rest of the Foxes quieted. There was silence for a moment. Two.

Then Andrew threw his ice pack on the floor and raced back into the heart of the riot.

«««———»»»

He ignored the shouts coming from behind him, his mind an endless loop of Neil, Neil, Neil, is he safe, has he been hurt, he was supposed to be nothing, NEIL

After a few minutes of searching and more than a few near punches, the police finally regained some control over the situation and Andrew was able to scour the grounds for any hint of where Neil might be.

He saw the racquet first. The duffle bag was a few meters away from it.

Numbly, Andrew picked up both items, grabbing Neil's phone as it fell from the netted side pocket.

0, it said.

Andrew felt a piercing emptiness when he saw Neil's things without their rightful owner beside them.

He slowly walked back to the Foxes' bus, head pounding but unable to really register the dwindling fight behind him. And when the Foxes finally came in view, he saw the confusion on their faces when they saw no Neil walking with him.

Andrew mentally ran through everything that he knew. Neil was scared. He was running from someone, someone Kevin knew about? A zero on his phone from an unnamed number — a countdown, perhaps. He would never leave his things unattended, so maybe he wanted to tell Andrew he had been taken unwillingly, knowing that Andrew would never leave without him.

There was something he was missing, some vital piece of information that Neil hadn't told him that was causing this mess.

The guilty look on Kevin's face told Andrew everything he needed to know. He knew something.

He dumped Neil's things on the ground by Wymack's feet, mentally assessing himself. His cheek throbbed, each breath he took was sticky with sweat, his heart was pounding.

Neil was gone.

Andrew felt such a blind hot rage at that, the likes of which he hadn't felt in so long, the type where he felt like laughing at how cruel the world could be.

And before he could tell his body to stop, Andrew's hands were around Kevin's throat.

«««———»»»

"Shit Andrew! You're hurting— " "Andrew, stop— " "Get off of— "

«««———»»»

Andrew couldn't remember what happened after that, not immediately at least. It was a bit disorienting, going from a perfect recollection to being so overrun by anger that his mind went blank. Was this how everyone else felt all the time? He felt like someone just took out a Jenga piece from his mind, like it was close to collapsing.

Distantly, he recalled being yanked off of Kevin as he gasped some explanation about a mob boss, Kengo's right hand man, Nathaniel Wesninski. But none of it mattered. Andrew had broken his promise. He had hurt the person he had vowed to protect, just like so many had done to him.

And he still didn't have Neil.

«««———»»»

Neil used to make the emptiness a bit fuller, a bit easier to manage, Andrew thought. It felt so impossible to navigate himself now without Neil by Andrew's side.

«««———»»»

There was a hospital. A hotel. There were FBI agents. The news turned on. Off. On. There was another hotel. Handcuffs. Taken away.

«««———»»»

There was Nathaniel Neil. Standing in front of him. Blue eyes, wild hair, bandages unable to hide how irresistible he was, unable to stop the jolt in Andrew's heart.

There was Neil. And everything felt right again.

115 notes · View notes

aftgficrec · 3 years

Note

Hiii!! Do you know of any fics where Neil gets badly hurt and almost dies and Andrew is overprotective? Or just hurt Neil and overprotective Andrew? Thank you! :)

Well, friend, overprotective Andrew is practically canon, and if you add an injured Neil into the mix, you get some great fics! Let me refer to some previous posts of ours containing some excellent fics, in addition to the post canon or AU-set fics here. Enjoy! - S

Neil with a major injury: ‘Pause and Restart my Heart’, ‘The Bones of You’, ‘let them hear me shout (for you)’

Andreil in hospital: ‘i won’t say we aren’t family’, ‘you're not next before forever’, ‘Crash course in feelings (or Andrew is done with Neil's martyr complex, the remix)’

‘Neil's first injury and Andrew's first deal’ here

‘Cats, Idiots and Road Bikes’ here

‘just like that day’ here

Speaking In Silences by Aelys_Althea [Rated T, 19665 words, incomplete, last updated Jan 2021]

It had been months since Binghamton's game and the world hadn't readjusted itself. It still stood as tipped askew as Andrew had always known it to be, yet since that game it had been worse. It was so askew that he could barely keep his feet.

Neil was gone. Not dead, Andrew knew he wasn't dead, but gone. The worst part was that for once Andrew could do nothing to bring him back.

tw: violence, tw: implied/referenced torture, tw: ableism, tw: implied/referenced self-harm

My Brother's Keeper by kanekicure [Rated T, 11698 words, complete, 2020]

Part 2 of Way Down We Go, parts 1 and 3 here

Aaron Minyard thinks his brother is dead.

So, on land, with a group of dysfunctional humans called the Foxes, he's shocked to find out his twin brother is currently being hunted alive by infamous merpeople trappers, and rivals, the Ravens.

One small problem is Aaron doesn't know that the Ravens aren't actually after his brother, but in fact, his brother's mate. And now Aaron needs to mend a two year old, destroyed, relationship with his pissed off brother in order to get both of them back to land and safety.

tw: violence, tw: blood

One Last Game by winhcster [Rated T, 3990 words, incomplete, last updated Dec 2020]

It's Neil's junior year/Andrew's senior year. It's the last game of the year and not only is it Andrew's last game but the Pro Court scouts have come to watch them play. Neil has gone all out that year, to enjoy playing with Andrew and the rest of the Foxes before they leave. It may not be important to Andrew but it's important to Neil. They have to win.

Andrew's heart had only ever stopped three times. The moment Nicky's father led him to Drake. When Neil was kidnapped. And now--when he heard Neil's screams through roar of the stadium. It was a voice so familiar as his own. A voice he associated with home. So Andrew on instinct ran. Ran to Neil. Ran to protect the one thing he couldn't stomach to lose. Thousands of scenarios ran inside his head as he threw open the doors to the locker room. It could have been worse, Andrew thought, but to Neil, this was the end. This was his everything. And now it's hanging by a thread.

Broken bones by All_for_the_andreil [Rated T, 1126 words, complete, 2020]

Neil gets injured during a game and freaks out. Andrew finds out what exactly happened to Neil in Baltimore.

Where the Night Takes Us by darkbluebox [Rated M, 4631 words, complete, 2020]

Nathaniel Wesninski – or Neil Josten, according to the forged papers Andrew procured for him - was more trouble than he was worth.

This was the mantra Andrew repeated to himself as he stalked across his study to where Neil waited for him, slouched on his couch with a false nonchalance that said, I’m sitting like this by choice, and not because I’ve lost too much blood to keep myself upright. He flinched as Andrew approached, but stilled when Andrew seized his chin between his thumb and forefinger, turning Neil’s face from side to side to inspect the damage. It was as though Andrew’s touch melted something stiff and glacial in Neil’s core, and he visibly softened, reassured by Andrew’s protective grip.

Neil showed none of the fear or anger one might expect from someone Andrew had recently pulled, unconscious, from a car full of bullets and corpses.

tw: blood

A Broken Promise by dilemmaed [Not Rated, 2076 words, complete, 2020 ]

“I keep my promises,” Andrew said, “if you kept yours, we wouldn’t be having this little problem.”

For a moment, the coach was silent and Neil thought that Andrew might let go.

Then, “h-he said he was fine to play.”

Andrew barked out an incredulous laugh, “and you believed him?”

The coach gaped as Andrew’s hand tightened in his shirt. Neil could hear Andrew’s sick smile in the tone of his voice, reminding him too much of the time Andrew had spent on anti-psychotics, of Andrew’s thin laughter and his manic grin, “then you’re an even bigger idiot than he is,” he said.

Close Call by justdk [Rated T, 1471 words, complete, Andreil Week 2019]

Neil wakes up and doesn't know where he is

The Foxhole Ficlets by exyking [Rated E, collection, last updated 2017]

Chapter 8: Only Fools | Andreil

Andrew gets an emergency call from Kevin, and he's not particularly happy about it.

touchstone by badacts [Rated G, 2058 words, complete, 2016, locked]

He’s getting into his car at the apartment, and then there’s a referee crouched over him saying his name. He sounds like he’s been repeating himself for a while. Neil’s in full gear and flat on his back on the court floor with no recollection of even pulling into the court parking lot, just a grey blank space where those memories should be.

His head is killing him.

tw: panic attacks

78 notes · View notes

perfectcourts · 3 years

Note

do you mind explaining your reasoning on some of the songs? not all ofc but i wanted to know for Nate growing up and my boy by billie 👀 love the playlist !

ofc i don’t mind! i’ll explain the two you asked for & a few that i love, so i hope that’s okay :D

nate growing up - labrinth is one of those songs i added then immediately went god, i am so good at this bc i loved it so much. basically, it’s a summary of andrew’s time in juvie. the song before this is sort of his breaking point with the spears after he meets aaron and dr*ke won’t stop taunting him. nate growing up, in my mind, is andrew growing up and cutting the ties that held him to cass in order to keep his brother safe. by the end of the song, he’s been released and is living with tilda and aaron.

my boy - billie eilish kind of jumped around the playlist a lot while i was rereading the books bc i knew i wanted it on there, but i didn’t know where to put it. i ended up putting it between arms tonite and last order which reads to me as andrew’s pov during the long bus ride to binghamton where neil asks andrew to let him go and in the locker room during the whole “thank you. you were amazing” moment. i like to think andrew would be more than a little suspicious by how neil was acting. also the lyric “he just sounds like he’s tryna be his father/my boy’s an ugly crier, but he’s such a pretty liar” felt too andrew for me to not include it.

bonus explanations below the cut bc i’m feeling passionate & missed interacting with people on here

the thanksgiving saga is probably my favorite section of songs bc of how well they flow (to me at least). 1) no one’s here to sleep - bastille is the moment andrew goes off to talk to luther, goes upstairs by himself, and spots dr*ke and spotting aaron afterwards, 2) fate - h.e.r. is one my sister found and is kind of the aftermath of thanksgiving when andrew is just laughing :( his inner monologue if he was able to comprehend what happened :(, 3) cough syrup - young the giant is andrew being sent off to easthaven and just not being ready for complete sobriety out of nowhere, 4) high to death - car seat headrest describes the entirety of andrew’s time at easthaven, just reliving his trauma and being put though even more while coming to terms with this side of himself that he isn’t used to anymore. (the voiceovers of a child shouting in the middle make me want to cry)

i could go on abt andrew and the songs i chose to describe his story for hours, but i’ll leave it there for now. if anyone wants any other specific songs to be explained, lmk!! <3

#playlist making is my passion #so is andrew minyard #aftg #andrew minyard #aftg ask #martina aftg rambles

6 notes · View notes

nekojitachan · 4 years

Note

For the ask meme thing, circus au, with marriage proposals or braiding/brushing hair. (Although I am parshal to a non angsty "it's not you, it my enemies, because, well its *Neil*)

*******

Last one!

Ha, this turned out more like an actual story?

Hmm… well, the last one had braiding hair in it so….

Very brief references to violence and a tiny bit of gore (not explicit), fair warning.

*******

Andrew is content as is possible for him (or so he thinks), traveling with the Foxes’ Court circus; he has his brother and cousin with him, the others know to leave him and his alone, it’s a different city every week or so, and it’s the safest he’s been in his life.

He helps set up and tear down the tents as well as handle any customers who get out of hand, while Aaron assists Abby, the crew’s healer, and Nicky helps draw in the crowds. They each have a job they do well, have found a place in Wymack’s ragtag crew of Foxes.

And then the bleeding heart bastard had to go and hire a new animal tamer.

Neil Josten arrived with a bag strapped to his back, two large felines (a black panther and a mountain lion) and such a strong aura of danger that set Andrew’s nerves on edge at mere sight of the young man.

Nicky said it was just his hormones reacting to a major hottie and nearly got stabbed.

The majority of the Foxes were their usual idiot selves and fawned over their newest recruit, desperate to get Neil to reveal something about himself, but not Andrew. He noticed how Neil was careful to never let any real details about his past slip, how his black hair had an odd sheen to it at times, how the dark strands normally fell onto his (too attractive) face to hide his (too pretty) pale blue eyes, and how he never went without his costume’s mask when the circus was open to paying customers.

How well he treated his overgrown pets (Sir and King, what ridiculous names) and put up with a prattling, attention-starved Nicky.

There was a lot of downtime when the circus wasn’t putting on a show, so Andrew took to hanging out around Neil (normally found with his cats when not dragged off by Matt or Allison). At first Neil ignored him, but when the mountain lion (Sir) showed an interest in Andrew (surprisingly not to eat him), Neil enlisted Andrew’s help with the oversized furballs.

While he pitched in to clean their enclosures, feed them and (safely) play with them, Andrew and Neil exchanged a few simple truths – Andrew being fostered out while an infant, Neil traveling around with his mother, who taught him how to raise and train the cats, various likes and dislikes. He pondered how to get to the real truths (who the hell are you?) when there started to be little ‘accidents’ around the circus.

Accidents like rigging coming loose, one of Dan’s horses escaping its stall, Robin realizing that the safety net for the trapeze act wasn’t set up properly….

Odd how it all started after Neil joined.

Odd how Neil grew withdrawn and took to walking around at night with his cats.

Andrew ‘allowed’ his coworker his space at first; after they set up in Binghamton, he snuck out one night to follow Neil and the cats at a distance, only to watch them run between the tents where Bee read cards and Abby sold her potions. There was an odd sound similar to a choked-off cry, which made Andrew curse and burst into a run himself, visions of Neil being harmed in his head as he rounded the corner to find….

To find King mauling some stranger while Sir batted around… something that had once been attached to said stranger. Andrew gulped then scowled at Neil, who was poking around in a leather bag, and felt a return of that ‘danger’ sense when the bastard smiled at him.

He ended up helping to bury a mauled body that night.

Still, unwanted exertion aside, it helped to break the rest of the ice with Neil, who apologized while shoveling and told Andrew that it wasn’t him making Neil so standoffish, but his enemies. It seemed that he and his mother had really been on the run all those years from his powerful and abusive father, and she’d trained the cats to protect Neil.

She’d managed to kill his father a couple years ago (and died in the process), but some of his people were still after Neil – not many, but some. So he continued to run and hide, and picked them off one by one when they came after him. He’d seen the advert for the circus and, tired of running, thought why not try something new?

After that, things changed between Andrew and Neil (funny what burying a body together could do to a relationship). Andrew told Neil more about his childhood (about the abusive foster homes – not everything, but Neil was smart and figured things out after a while, especially after the ‘please’ truth), spent more time together until Sir allowed Andrew to groom him and feed him by hand.

Until Andrew dared to ask Neil ‘yes or no’ and be told ‘yes’, and discover that Neil could be as careful with him, as mindful of boundaries with him as he was with the damn cats.

The Foxes Court traveled around the country and put on show after show, and every couple months Andrew had to help bury a body (he didn’t understand why Neil didn’t let the damn furballs eat everything, and was told it wasn’t good for them – well, being up half the night burying a pile of shredded human wasn’t good for him… at least Neil made up for it during the rest of the night).

It was during their show outside of Belmonte when the Malcolms struck – the last two loyal followers of Neil’s father. Neil had gone to check on the cats one more time before bed, when Andrew heard a faint knock on the door.

It turned out to be Renee, who’d noticed something ‘odd’ while on her way back from returning something to Dan, and so she’d come to Andrew. Suspecting what that ‘odd’ was, Andrew slipped free a knife and went in search of his wayward boyfriend. Renee, who hadn’t always been the darling of the trapeze (more like the terror of the slums back when she’d been Natalie Shields), quickly followed.

The Malcolms had Neil trapped between them, right outside of the cats’ enclosure; he had managed to fend them off until then, not exactly defenseless without his cats to back him up.

Andrew and Renee were more than adequate substitutes for the furballs.

Renee, the bitch, left without helping to bury the bodies.

Neil was in a bit of a daze for the next few days as it sunk in that with the Malcolms dead, he should finally be free of pursuit from his father’s people. Andrew waited on tenterhooks to see if he’d leave the circus and settle down somewhere, and when a week passed finally worked up the nerve to do something.

He marched into the cats’ enclosure where Neil was grooming King and stood in front of his boyfriend. At first he tried to ignore Sir, who leaned against him and demanded that his ears be rubbed, but it was difficult to do that with such a large cat so he obliged while glaring at Neil and asking the gorgeous idiot to move in with him.

To share the same caravan.

Neil might have only been with the circus for about a year, but he knew what it meant when a couple officially shared the same caravan; he gaped at Andrew for several seconds before he stuttered out if Andrew was sure, if it was a joke or not – and got yanked forward.

Andrew said he was not joking, and asked ‘yes or no’. After a slight pause, Neil smiled, a truly beautiful sight to behold, and said ‘yes’ before he leaned in for a kiss, one which Andrew savored right up until they both went down beneath the weight of two overgrown, purring furballs.

*******

Ah, I had fun with these.

#nekojitachanfics #fantasy mashup prompt #aftg #andreil #neil josten #andrew minyard #circus au #sir and king!#sorta #proposal!#renee walker #courting your loved one through the burial of bodies #mumbling into the void #i think we all can agree that i have issues #but that's fine because these boys have issues too

105 notes · View notes

doodlingstuff · 3 years

Text

Heaven knows I’m proud, but I’ll turn ‘round

Chapter 15 of Comeback.

Proceed with caution. This is loaded with heavy angst and almost every TW.

***

All comments, likes, kudos and shares make my day shine. Thank you for reading 🧡

***

Cold brushes Andrew’s arms and face.

His armbands and knives are not with him.

It takes several tries to open his eyes.

Before he can reckon his surroundings, he feels the hot hands in his arms, dragging him across grass and dirt. Then he feels the cold metal around his wrists.

He plants his feet on the ground. He is too dizzy, but he spent years under heavy medication. He can fight even drugged.

When the men holding him notice he is awake, they are received by a kick and a headbutt. Andrew can only duck and kick since his hands are tied to his back. He has another three persons behind him. There’s no time to maneuver his legs and put his arms in front of him to punch them properly, so he runs.

It’s too dark to see where he’s going, but he can see a highway ahead. He sprints faster to reach it. However, his path gets blocked by a massive man holding a crowbar. Andrew dodges him and keeps going.

He can almost step foot on the highway when three pairs of hands grab him from the arms, the legs, his torso. He spins and tries to kick, but he is outnumbered. His hands are tied. His knives are lost. He is carried back to a pig’s car.

It doesn’t matter how much he moves and twists, the men holding him above the ground have a fierce grip on his body.

A woman approaches. He can’t see her face in the dark, but he can hear.

“Ain’t no fun if you hurt us.”

The smile never leaves her face as she smacks a rock to Andrew’s head.

Next time he wakes up, Andrew is sitting on a chair. The room is covered in darkness.

Moisture dampens his head and shoulder. The scars in his arms are stinging like they are split open again, but he can’t see.

“Look, our tiny toy is back.”

Andrew struggles to wake up fully. His head is hammering too hard to focus.

Contours start to appear as his eyes get adjusted to dark.

Knives glint on walls and there is a drain in the middle of the room.

He has been here before. His hazed brain takes a few moments more to recall.

No.

Neil has been here before.

This is one of his nightmares, not Andrew’s.

---

Next Monday after Neil’s party, Andrew almost needed to be shoveled out of bed.

Daily morning practices were off for nearly four months and he was fine with not having to wake up early for fucking stickball. But it’s Neil’s first practice since he got back and his good mood was spreading fast through the dorm, so even Andrew felt the need to put some effort, even if it was the bare minimum.

Classes came and went and then it was time for afternoon practice. He was used to head to Abby’s place then to be with Neil. It was strange having him on the passenger seat, but it was even stranger seeing him sitting out most of the practice. At least, he was able to try some drills in the morning.

Coach stopped the whole team before they headed out to shower. He had the schedules and matches to be held for the rearranged championship. They were facing the Binghamton Bearcats in one month, and the final match would be played two weeks after. Everyone cheers and celebrates.

In one month, they trusted Neil could play more than the five-minute top threatened by Coach. The Foxes were finally moving as a whole after the striker’s return and the Bearcats weren’t one of the Big Three, so they felt entitled to lift their hopes up, even if it was the weirdest season on the books.

With a date to look forward as the definitive end of the season, final exams on their way, and Kevin bitching to have night practices again, weeks passed in a mix of sweat and stolen kisses with Neil whenever they had a few minutes to spare. The boy shone with excitement for being able to play, and the only thing Andrew could do about it was make sure he didn’t push too hard whenever he noticed the striker limping.

Since it was only one match and Neil asked, Andrew conceded closing the goal on his half of the match. He had seen the Bearcats previous matches, so he knew their patterns. It was easy.

The weight of the Foxes playing or not the last match would depend then on how many points Kevin, Neil and Dan could score, and hope their number was bigger than the rest.

The ride to Binghamton was eternal and boring. Andrew certainly had a few ideas of how he could make time go faster, but not with the team that close, so he had to settle with the stories Neil told about his travels, hearing his wishes for going on a holiday someday, and his daydream that he would be able to play on finals. Then, he fell asleep on Andrew’s shoulder.

The match was brutal.

The twin was split the whole time between staying in place deflecting shots, or run to shove out dirty players far from his lot. He kept the goal shut and their win wasn’t taken with grace, since the Foxes were the away team and certainly not anyone’s favorite despite the loads of news and gossip provided by Neil’s incident with the Ravens, but he couldn’t care less about the fans’ mood.

Andrew’s arms were close to burnout when the final buzzer confirmed their win. The Foxes gathered in the middle of the court and celebrated as if they had earned gold at the Olympics. The blond watched from the distance, when all he wanted was a shower and pile back into the orange bus, but he had to keep an eye on Neil, and he intended to wait until after he was done in the showers to carry their equipment, as he had done every practice. The striker was perfectly capable of carry his own things by then, but helping made curious things futter in his chest, and painted a smile on his pipe dream.

The celebrations were carried to his goal and he could only stare at Neil’s happiness.

That was another moment to treasure.

Finally, everyone headed out of court and started to clean up. Neil was waiting for him to finish, so they could get back to the others. The joy lighting his blue eyes was so powerful that Andrew nodded for the striker to join the rest while he got both their bags ready. Nothing would happen if Neil was out of his sight for a moment.

The pipe dream had proved to be real.

Andrew was almost out the locker room when he felt a pinch on his neck.

Duffel bags were dropped as he unfurled to fight, but the liquid spreading through his blood was faster, and everything turned black before he could do anything about it.

----

A tall woman with a gargantuan red lipped smile approaches him. “Are you awake now? Revenge is not fun if you can’t hear me.” It’s the same one who knocked him with a rock, and maybe a needle too. The one on the original list of the Moriyamas that Andrew ignored.

Lola Malcolm.

“Fuck you.” Andrew tries to stand, but his whole body is chained to the chair. His efforts send him to the floor. His hips hit instants before his head. His left arm is on fire after the impact. The sting in his scars is worse.

“So bold but so small. Can’t believe you were the one who killed our boss.”

The woman is too close and holding his face. The touch burns him worse than the pain on his head or his arms. He spits in her face. A shoe presses Andrew’s head to the floor.

The betrayal of the Moriyamas sends waves of rage through him as terror replaces it fast when realization settles.

“Where is Neil?”

“Wait you insolent Gremlin. He hasn’t picked up again. Little boss said he was untouchable now, but he never said anything about you and Junior didn’t like it. Oh, hey, you heard that Junior?”

Static of the phone echoes in the room. There is silence on the other end for minutes.

“Fuck you.” The fear in Neil’s whisper shatters something in Andrew, but reliefs him at the same time. It doesn’t matter what they do to him as long as the pipe dream is safe.

“Nathaniel, say hello to our special guest now that he is awake.”

"Don’t you dare fucking touching him-”

“Watch that mouth Junior. As you recall, it’s my honor to tell my victims what I’ll do, and since this was meant to be for you once Nathan got out from jail, you both get to hear.”

Andrew can’t pay attention to the things Lola mentions. The jagged screams of Neil on the other side of the phone are destroying him already.

His promise was broken.

Neil was unprotected and suffering.

Because Andrew was about to get chopped. That isn’t right. No one suffers for Andrew. Never.

“Are you still there Junior? I’d like to start now.”

The other end of the phone is dead.

“Shame. We’ll get started without him then.”

Andrew struggles as two men free him from the chair and pin him to the floor with a loud crash of his skull. He is too close to the drain.

He tries to fight them, but the massive one from before joins to keep his legs glued in place.

Romero Malcolm. Jackson Plank. Patrick DiMaccio.

Fucking list.

“Heard Junior and you like to do nasty things with each other. Such waste of tiny men. I’ll have a try anyway.”

Lola climbs on top of him. She has a knife on her hands. The tip presses on the hollow in his throat, where the collar of his shirt starts, and cuts all the way down to his waist. She rips the shirt in two and leaves his bare chest in display.

Then, she bends down and licks Andrew’s neck. Nausea piles in his throat as the woman sucks his nipples and keeps pressing her tongue until she reaches the hem of his pants.

The contact is revulsing, and it only gets worse as fingernails dig inside his underwear to make way between his legs. Pulling, pinching, tickling, pressing until his body betrays him.

Like Steven, Samuel, Drake, and Proust did.

Nausea rolls from his stomach to his throat. He puts all his effort in containing a gagging sound while Lola keeps feasting on him.

Andrew fights to get rid of the weight, but he is helpless with three men strangling his limbs and tugging his hair to keep his head in place too.

The sharpness of a blade starts on the side of his lower belly and follows all the way to his knee. Lola tears apart the ruined pants and gets free access to Andrew’s intimacy. A shiver runs from his head to his toes. He can’t do anything to cover his unprotected body. The men pinning him only look away, but they never release the strength of their hold.

The woman watches him with sickening delight before sliding down from his legs to his shins, and sucks him.

She bites and licks and digs her long nails on Andrew’s sides until his skin breaks and bleeds.

His stomach tries to rebel again, but he only retches. His teeth are close to breaking from how hard Andrew is clenching his jaw.

It’s an eternity before Lola gets up again, wiping her mouth with a hand.

She leaves Andrew exposed. Trembling. Humiliated.

Hot shots set his skin on fire everywhere Lola touched him.

“That was good indeed. But I promised other delivery, so let’s get started.”

Lola stands and disappears from Andrew’s view. His attempts to het free are useless once more.

When she returns, she climbs over him again and takes his phone from one of her pockets. While the device beeps, waiting for the other side to answer, the sound of a blowtorch makes Andrew’s nerves stand on edge.

“No one told you is unpolite to hung up, Junior?” There’s only silence on the other side. “Fine. Don’t talk. I’ll update. Your tiny boyfriend is delicious indeed. But I have to resume. See, we were planning on carving out that disgusting thing on your face. We’ll have to ruin a pretty face in your behalf. And because you are always running, we were cutting your legs tendon by tendon, but this one relies on his knives, so we are cutting his arms. Did your midget tell you that he made an exact copy of your scars on the Butcher? I’ll perfect his idea now.

“No.” The whisper on the other side is too broken to be Neil.

“Yes. And you will get to hear his screams. Word says he lost emotions and all that. We’ll see that when he sees his fingers on the floor.”

Andrew can’t think, can’t remember, can’t move as the tip of a red-hot knife gets pressed to his left cheek and sharp nails are dug in his jaw to keep him steady.

He was right. The good weeks had to end, but he never thought it would be like this.

At least he enjoyed all of Neil while he could and he got enough time to know it wasn’t a hallucination made up from his meds.

Pain sears his cheek and spreads to his full face, but he doesn’t make a sound even if his teeth are cracking. He won’t make Neil hurt more.

“You know how to stay shut, don’t you? Nathaniel, have you seen the mess this one has on his arms? Of course you do. It’s time to erase them. Can’t make clean cuts with that view. I began on the way here, but it wasn’t enough.”

“No. Please.”

And that word.

Bolts of fury fill Andrew to fight again. He is not letting Neil fall into the same trap the twin fell when he was seven.

The man on his left is slightly smaller than the one on his right. Despite the pain, he puts all his might into getting free. It hurts dislocating his joints to get free, but not more than hearing Neil’s strangled pry.

If he is dying today, he doesn’t want Neil to hear.

And if he will hear anyway, let it be the sounds of Andrew putting a fight to get back. As Neil did.

He swings a closed fist to Lola and sends her to the floor before his arm is trapped again with a jolts of agony.

“Enough talking.” Says the woman cleaning the blood dripping from her nose. She is holding the fucking blowtorch again.

Andrew braces for the pain but it’s not enough. The horrors he had faced are nothing alike.

Lola pins first his left arm with the same knife she used to burn his face and gives the halt to the man over to hold it in place. Then she gets the blowtorch to the scars and new cuts of his right arm.

Fire scorches his skin slowly. He watches in slow motion as his marred scars start changing color. Swelling. Blistering. Bleeding.

He scrambles and twists to get away from the fire, but the knife pinned in place is dividing his other arm in two with every move he can manage below the fierce grips.

A feral growl escapes his throat and Lola laughs as she moves the torch up. The knife held by the man on his left has made a hole in his arm. He can’t feel his fingers anymore.

A scream bursts free against his will when the blade is taken out and stabs his burned arm.

He doesn’t want Neil hearing this. It will break whatever defense survived Evermore.

Another scream is finding its way out as the blowtorch now works over the open wound, cauterizing the cut and erasing his scars. He can’t feel his burned arm being torn apart with the knife.

Andrew can’t notice immediately when the weight in his left arm is gone, but he can see the shock in Lola’s face as she lets the torch fall and stands to fight.

All around is pain and confusion.

A real hallucination from the pain. Maybe he is already death. This is impossible.

Because there is no way that Neil is standing around his body, bloodied knives in both hands, slashing and cutting everything in his way, making bodies fall and fight and free Andrew’s limbs.

He can swear there is also a strike of rainbow moving at flash speed behind Neil. Clearing the path. Getting rid of the people torturing him.

“Andrew? Andrew?"

The voice speaking is too far, too wrecked to be real.

Andrew is too shocked to understand. He hadn’t been so afraid, so sore, so useless in so, so long. He finally loses control of his stomach and everything comes out, but there is no relief afterwards. The pain and the sickness go on and forces him to retch again until there is nothing left.

There is a cling close to him.

He wants the world to disappear beneath him. Die if he hasn’t. Pass out at least.

He can’t tell when he curled on his side and covered his head with his battered arms.

He is shaking. His head is throbbing. His arms sting. He is mostly naked. He is cold. His belly hurts from the effort.

Neil heard him. Neil is watching him like this. Again.

“Andrew? You’re bleeding, we need to stop it.” The voice outside is too hurt, but sounds real. “Andrew?”

“No.” The answer comes between shattered sobs.

A part of Andrew that is still aware of the surroundings knows he is the one crying, but he is uncapable of doing anything else.

He promised to protect Neil and he failed.

He failed to his promise like everyone else does.

All because he thought he wouldn’t have enough time left with Neil.

Because he thought the Moriyamas would finish their part of the job faster.

“Don’t touch him.” The jagged voice turns fierce before being soft again. “Andrew, we need to get you out of here.”

He doesn’t move.

It takes ages before he can acknowledge that the shattered voice belongs to Neil.

He can’t face him after failing a promise. He has failed him twice.

That is unforgivable. That makes him a monster indeed. The monster everyone believes him to be.

“I’m so sorry I couldn’t get faster. I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you like I promised. I’m sorry it wasn’t me. I-”

Andrew uncovers his face only an inch. His arms hurt too much, but he needs to see if Neil is indeed there, apologizing for a promise that was never his to keep. Hurting only because Andrew was hurt.

He was sure that no one gave a fuck about what happened to him, until he heard his name spoken with utter fear for him, not because of him.

“You are a pipe dream.” He manages to say with cracked voice.

“Fuck you I’m not. I’m real. You made me real.” There’s a pause before he goes on. “And I can’t lose you. Not like this.”

Neil’s eyes are a few shades darker and glassy as he lowers a hand and places it extended, close to Andrew’s arms, but not touching. Never touching. Only waiting.

“Let’s go home. Yes or no?”

It takes minutes or maybe hours for Andrew to find enough courage inside of him to realize that Neil’s apologies were sincere and he still wants him.

Maimed, useless and humiliated, he’s still accepted.

He was forgiven for breaking the promise between them even before he pointed his failure.

The hand extended is still by his side. Asking. Expecting. Ready.

Neil is feeling guilty for the consequences of Andrew’s miscalculated actions. The striker didn’t choose his criminal family, but Andrew chose to get rid of them. The guilt and consequences should be only his. Neil should be away from this, enjoying his free life. Not extending his hand to pick the pieces of a wrecked a monster like him.

And yet, he doesn’t have it in him to let go. No when he is so terrified for the first time.

With trembling fingers, Andrew takes the offered hand and holds it as hard as he can with his numb fingers.

It is as warm and real as the last time.

“Yes.”

#tw: torture #tw: injury #tw: noncon #aftg #aftg fic #aftg fanfic #aftg fandom #all for the game #andrew minyard #neil josten #andrew x neil #bamf!neil #the foxhole court #the kings men #the raven king #canon divergence #canon divergent au #mid-canon #someone stop me from writing

2 notes · View notes

fallingin-like · 4 years

Text

november 29

baltimore blues by @spanglebangle [requested by @foxsoulcourt and @sig66]

see which other fics i’m reviewing this month! / my review request post!

you’ve probably already read this fic, but in case you haven’t, it’s an amazing exploration of andrew’s perspective on the binghamton riot and baltimore. this fic has fantastic scenes with introspection and is just so impressive to read.

i remember reading this fic for the first time, shortly after having finished the books. i was hesitant to turn to fanfics because i enjoyed the books and nora’s extra content so much and didn’t want to move on, but more than that i was desperate for more content. like most people, i think i was looking for andrew’s perspective on the baltimore scenes. you did an amazing job at capturing it and the moments around it.

parts that stood out to me:

the idea that andrew’s body is tired after a game too. he does spend a lot of time not trying and the rest of the time using a lot of natural talent, but it’s exciting to me (and definitely exciting to neil) to see the evidence that he’s putting so much effort into exy

”he felt pummelled and worn out but despite it all, there was a tiny fizz under his skin. it was something like satisfaction to have denied the other team their goals and having made them curse and yell in frustration, a pleasant bit of spite he could chew on all day” this whole section is such a great vocalization of andrew’s thoughts, and it’s wonderful to see andrew slowly… finding satisfaction from playing, even if it’s based out of spite.

ooh i love the shower routine description, the post that you linked didn’t work for me, but a lot of it was the execution of it, i love the way that you really show trust, but the fact that andrew still carries his trauma with him and still struggles. recovery is a long road and it’s important that this is portrayed

andrew swapping his armbands is interesting to me, i guess i would have imagined he just bring his clean pair with his towel so that he can change it in the stall. with this though, i think it demonstrates the bit of trust, too. even if he makes the switch subtly, i think he wouldn’t do that if he weren’t as comfortable with the foxes

”he’d let andrew ask whatever, demand whatever, and would deliver it if it tore him to pieces” oh this is so beautiful

”it figured, that andrew would meet somebody who finally understood the full weight of a real promise, but would be too apt to take it like a martyr at any opportunity… and yet, being trusted to ask anyway… it put an itch under his skin, an uneasiness and yearning and odd kind of contentment that bothered him endlessly” i think this is the perfect example of a description of andrew’s true feelings about neil. it’s not as simple as liking him or being attracted to him and just saying that he hated him instead. this is a wash of emotions, unfamiliar and at times overwhelming and it kind of feels like a lack of control, which is what andrew really hates

”it felt wrong to demand answers when they might be freely given, if only andrew was patient enough” this whole paragraph is gold!! this is exactly why i think that neil and andrew both work so well together. they know when to push and pull and when to leave the other person alone.

a whole paragraph on andrew thinking about neil’s affinity with languages? what a mood, i love polyglot!neil. what a perfect request of andrew, something that he thinks neil would enjoy and something that would cause them to become closer, both because they would spend time learning it together and it gives them the privacy to communicate in front of the team

”a pair of campus police edged their way into the crowded room… actual professionals, then” NOOOOOOOOOOO I HATE THAT ANDREW EVEN SEEMS TO TRUST THEM A LITTLE BIT THIS IS TERRIBLE KNOWING WHAT THIS MEANS EVEN THOUGH I KNOW IT’LL TURN OUT ALRIGHT.

oh no, andrew repressing his feelings ;-;

really interesting to see how you write the riot, there’s not that much included in the books, so it’s always fascinating to me to see what andrew does, who he goes to first, what the rest of the foxes are doing, and how he gets that bruise by his eye. and, of course, the realisation that neil’s not around. i like that you have them know right away, while the riot’s still happening

”he wended through corridors and broke locks to see if neil had scarpered for safety in the heat of the moment and found somewhere quiet to hole up and lick his wounds” ooo i like this sentence a lot

andrew holding on to the keys?? ahhh it’s so much

okay okay okay. non-verbal andrew is something that i really like having included, the confusion, not understanding what people were saying to him, it really immerses me into the fic, i can’t stop reading and i find it really special that i can’t wait to find out what happens, even though i already know that neil is okay, that they find him.

the switch to have andrew speak again is so good, how difficult it is to separate him from kevin, the way that andrew can’t hide his emotion this time

”he knelt and picked up the phone and keys as gently as he could, feeling appalled he’d let them go for even a second” this is such a soft moment amidst the churning, sharpness of andrew’s anger

”andrew found himself hauled away again like a child having a tantrum and plonked outside the bus” lol cute!!

andrew losing time? yeah

”it hit him around ten that he was grieving” ANDREW NO THAT’S SO SAD HOW DARE YOU BREAK MY HEART LIKE THIS

”apparently neil’s refusing to talk to them until he sees your ugly mugs again” LOL so affectionate

andrew finally being able to sleep is so good

love that andrew is keeping the keys and phone with him all the time!!!

yes, another wymack lecture would be good any other time than this coach!

it’s always interesting to see how different authors/artists interpret the wounds that neil received. i think that, as gruesome as yours are, they seem something most similar to what i expected. burns that are a mess, and many of then, completely destroying that side of his face. i can’t imagine lola stopping at one or two of them and moving on to his arms

”they were a mirror image of crushed glass and barbed wire on high walls” yes!! this whole paragraph!!! so amazing

”andrew wanted to hate the spark of amusement and almost relief in his chest, at seeing neil be the unapologetic firebrand and fierce instigator that had snagged andrew’s attention over and over again this year, even battered and injured and shaken” your word choice is so great here, the way that you built this sentence i can’t even describe how much i like it

”it often was, andrew thought distractedly. it had taken so little to stop tilda” andrew is probably the only fox that truly understands wanting a parent dead

”he listened attentively to the story neil gave the interviewers, but everyone else’s voices slurred and mumbed together in a confusing, exhausting mess.” i love the way that you describe andrew being overwhelmed by everything. his one focal point is, and always has been, neil and keeping him safe.

”’stop it,’ andrew commanded, because he couldn’t bear the thought of neil’s hands being permanently damaged” oh it’s so interesting hearing how you interpreted this

”he leaned back against andrew’s side. it was more soothing than andrew wanted it to be” this is so soft!

”before starting the engine, he took the cigarette lighter from his dashboard and tossed it calmly out the window and into a trash can” yes! even more significant because andrew probably actually used the cigarette lighter previously

”he drove his pack back to the campus roads” andrew calls them his pack!! that is so cute

”being yanked out of the closet so violently had never been his plan, but it seemed oddly fitting for the general pattern of his life” i’ve spend a long time reading fanfics instead of the actual series so i forgot for a moment that before this, nobody knew andrew was gay. and the last part, oh. it really sucks that so many things that people learn about him are not his choice.

andrew stopping himself from the spiraling thoughts, taking breaths and calling bee? amazing, wonderful, for once andrew is a good example to others

foxpile!!!

agh, andrew exposing himself to be close to neil, so good

”at the very least, if any hitmen tried to come in they’d trop all over the foxes lying there and wake everyone up” LOL

”he knew his own strength was largely in the physical - he’d walled off his emotions and shut down his mind long ago instead of learning better coping mechanisms. neil’s strength was in his head, in his fiery heart and acid tongue and fierce determination to live as much as he could in what little time he could gouge from the world” THIS IS AMAZING, the wording and everything, just so so wonderful

”hello, hello, you’re here, i was grieving you but you’re alive, hello, things haven’t changed so much, hello…” oh i love this

i like the checking that andrew does, i liked seeing how you describe his constant reassurance that what he’s doing is okay

”he was wanting and planning and… hoping” andrew :”)

your characterization of andrew is amazing to read, how you captured his the contrast between his thoughts and emotions that he hid with the reactions that he allowed through. did you find it challenging? i can imagine there must have been pressure because readers have seen some of these scenes from another perspective, so there’s not as much flexibility with his actions or the dialogue

your descriptions of everything were wonderful and reflected what i imagine andrew to be like. his rationalization behind his actions and how he reacted to fear after so long of repressing his emotions. i’m glad that this was one of the first fics i read for the fandom, being exposed to this high quality content definitely helped draw me in. thank you so much for writing this!

#baltimore blues #aftg fic review #raelle writes

5 notes · View notes

aftgficlibrary · 5 years

Note

Hey! Do you know any fics about the time when Neil was kidnapped and Andrew choked Kevin?

yep here are some-Maz

Everything by conniptionns (T | 7,076 | 5/5)

Baltimore from Andrew’s pov

“Thank you, you were amazing.”

The words sent a thrill up Andrew’s spine. No one had ever spoken to Andrew with such conviction before—at least not in a positive light. Whenever foster parents had spit venom at him, Andrew always knew that they were telling the truth. He had always had a knack for knowing when someone was lying to him, and when his foster parents had told him how worthless he was…he knew they weren’t lying. And that was what he deserved. Not a ‘thanks’ spilling from the lips that had never conveyed so much emotion before.

Andrew was certain that he deserved the opposite of a ‘thanks.’ And Andrew was mad, because he never should have let Neil have this much of an effect on him. What was worse was Andrew didn’t think anyone had thanked him for anything before. There was a reason that they called him a monster, and there wasn’t a moment that Andrew had ever disagreed with the assessment. Andrew knew when people lied to him, and he knew that they were being genuine when they called him a monster.

Viva la cucaracha or whatever the fuck.

Waiting on Nothing by Sundaye (M | 1,902 | 1/1)

A short piece on Kevin’s perspective of the events that followed the riot at Binghamton.

Kevin has to deal with the realization that Neil isn’t returning to the Foxes once he goes missing following the riot at Binghamton. Being the only person who knows the whole truth about Neil’s father, he makes that realization before everyone else.

/Graphic Depictions of Violence

you were amazing. by tolvsmol (Not Rated | 5,271 | 1/1)

“Thank you. You were amazing.”

Why was there such finality in those words? Like he was thanking Andrew for more than the game? Andrew knows every breath Neil took was at least half a lie, concealed hints of the truth laced with every other word. So why did this sound like the most honest thing he’d ever said?

Amazing by reneewvlkers (M | 4,892 | 1/1)

Andrew can be patient. His knuckles are red, and with that familiar pain comes a wave of calm. He has no control over this situation and that’s nothing new. Neil Josten is a force of nature; utterly unpredictable and infuriating.

But he knows one thing. Neil would not leave if he had a choice. He would come back to Exy, to the Foxes, to this godforsaken bus if he had to limp the whole way. And Andrew will be right here when he does.

85 notes · View notes

knox-knocks · 5 years

Text

Restart ~ Chapter 14

read on ao3

There was a knock at the door. Frustrated, Neil twisted the pencil in his hands and tried to coax back the focus on his math homework he’d just lost. He was only starting to get into it; finally, the problems were beginning to make sense. They were a puzzle that gave him a thrill of satisfaction every time he found a new piece that fit. Usually Neil was good at math – quick, efficient, but he’d been struggling with this assignment all week.

The knock sounded again, an insistent rapping that chased away what was left of Neil’s concentration. Neil threw down his pencil and watched it bounce off his textbook and roll to the floor. When it landed somewhere near his shoes, he glared at the door and wished whoever was on the other side a slow death.

No one else was here to open the door, so that left the job to Neil. Kevin was at the store for groceries, not trusting his roommates to get food that was ‘actually edible and not something that’ll clog our arteries,’ as Kevin put it. Andrew wouldn’t get the door either, even if he wasn’t taking a nap in the other room.

Just when Neil thought that the person had given up and walked away, the third knock sounded. Sighing, Neil pushed himself up and went to go get it. It was probably Kevin, he’d already forgotten his key twice this month, Neil didn’t put it past him to do it again. He debated leaving him out there, punishment for making Neil lose the motivation to do his homework that he’d been scrounging up to all week.

When Neil unlocked the doorknob, whoever was waiting outside pushed their way in before Neil could even open it himself. Neil braced himself, his mind reeling with thoughts of his father’s men kicking in doors and Ichirou sneaking into houses while the inhabitants slept.

But it wasn’t the mafia knocking on Neil’s door. It was Dan, looking as she always did with her messy curls and determination in her eyes.

“Dan?” Neil asked, bemused. “Is everything alright?”

“We’re going out to lunch,” she replied. When Neil just stared at her she blew her curls out of her face and smiled that familiar grin of hers. It was a little early for lunch, but Neil decided to stop the complaint at the tip of his tongue when his stomach growled a reminder that he skipped breakfast that morning. Dan gave him a knowing look and shooed him away to get ready.

Bewildered, Neil made his way to the bedroom and snuck in, careful not to wake Andrew who was still nestled in a bundle of pillows and blankets on his bed. The only indication that anyone was under the pile at all was the tufts of blonde hair poking out near the pillows and the quiet snores that told Neil that Andrew was having a good nap. Neil paused in pulling a clean shirt and jeans out of his drawer when he realized Andrew had hisblanket as well. Neil huffed. He’d have to steal it back when he and Dan were done with lunch.

Neil shucked off his t-shirt and threw it in the direction of his other dirty clothes. When he turned around, he found Andrew blinking sleepily in the dim light.

“You’re loud,” Andrew mumbled, his voice scratchy from sleep. Something warm bloomed in Neil’s chest. He considered the strange sensation before he grimaced in apology.

“Sorry,” he whispered back, trading his sweatpants for the jeans. “I’m going to lunch with Dan so I’ll be back in a few.”

Andrew squinted up at Neil in consideration before his eyes drifted down to Neil’s bare chest. Neil stilled as he looked for a minute before nodding in sleepy appreciation and curling up further under the stolen blankets. He was asleep by the time Neil was finished dressing.

Neil left the bedroom to find Dan waiting for him to be done. “Come on, slow-poke. I want to be back before afternoon practice,” she said, already on her way out the door.

There was a slight bounce to Dan’s step as she led them out of Fox Tower. She’d been elated since the Foxes won the last two game of the death match, knocking out Belmonte and UT. The Foxes had run themselves ragged against the Longhorns last Saturday, but it was worth it when they came out on top with a score of 5-9.

If Neil was being honest with himself, he didn’t think he could feel excited about their success until they played their game against Penn State. Two more death match games, and then the last two games of semi-finals. Depending on how many points the Foxes racked up in those games – if they even make it through the death matches – they would be moving on to finals or they would drop out in round three.

Luckily for the Foxes, Edgar Allen and USC were both in the odds bracket for the death match. They’ll face each other next week and only one of them would be moving on to Finals, meaning the Foxes would only have to play two of the big three for the chance to take the Championships again.

The Foxes have to win four more games and Neil and Kevin have to overperform in order for Ichirou to consider sparing their lives. So far, so good. But Neil could never be too careful.

“Earth-to-Neil.” Dan snapped her fingers in Neil’s face, breaking him from his thoughts of winning and losing and life and death. “There’s this café across campus that I want to go to. I was going to go with Matt but he had to make up a test. You down?”

“Sure,” Neil said. He knew the café Dan was talking about. It was more of a retro diner like the ones Neil and his mother had slipped into during their years on the run. Even when they were nearly empty in the middle of the night, the greasy diners provided acceptable cover for Neil and Mary to hide in. Plus, no one ever asked any questions in those kinds of places. But the Fox Café was considerably newer and cleaner than all those other diners. Neil remembered going with Andrew at the beginning of the school year one night, but he wasn’t going to tell Dan he’d already been before. “Am I your replacement date?” Neil asked instead.

Dan scoffed. “Please. You’re too short for me, totally not my type. And anyway, this is business. Cap to Vice-Cap-Soon-to-be-Cap.”

“Shouldn’t you wait to see if I’m still going to be around next year before we talk about me being captain?” Neil asked wryly before he could stop himself. Dan’s grin slid of her face. Neil was surprised at the stab of guilt he felt in his stomach.

Dan pressed her lips in a thin line and started on the five-minute walk to the café. She regrouped quickly though, and turned back to Neil. “We’ve been winning our games so far, and we’re going to keep winning. Binghamton was a fluke. After we have the championship trophy, Ichirou won’t have any reason to hurt you.”

Neil hummed, not able to bring himself to meet Dan’s eyes. If Neil failed, he wasn’t going to just hurt Neil. He wasn’t going to receive a simple slap on the wrist and a demand to do better next time. This was it for him.

“I’m serious. We’re going to win this, Neil. And you’re going to be captain next year and win it all over again.”

“What if Ichirou decides he’s done with me anyway? Even if we win, there’s no guarantee he’ll keep me as an investment. I might be more trouble than I’m worth,” Neil said, finally voicing the thought that had been eating at him for weeks.

Dan stopped walking. When Neil realized she wasn’t by his side anymore, he turned around to find his captain with a furiously resolute look on her face. Nothing in the world could make Dan budge when she wore that expression. “It doesn’t matter, we’re not giving you up so easily. Ichirou can go fuck himself for all I care. We’re Foxes, and if he wants one of us, he has to go through all of us because Foxes don’t go down without a fight,” she said with the unbreakable confidence she would have needed to lead the Foxes all these years.

In that moment, Neil couldn’t help but admire Dan Wilds. She stood tall no matter the insults flung at her, from opponents and teammates alike. Not once did she give up or stand down. She was the strength of the team, the fire, the force that drove the Foxes to triumph. Now Neil wasn’t thinking about if he’d be captain next year, but how.

“You do realize that we aren’t going to let the Moriyamas take you so easily, right? You’re family, Neil. No matter what,” Dan said, her voice several shades quieter but lacking none of the steel from before.

Neil had to swallow several times before he could speak. “I know,” he managed to say around the lump in his throat.

Dan nodded in satisfaction and tugged on Neil’s arm. Neil could see the diner up a head and luckily, it didn’t seem to be too busy considering it was a Tuesday and classes should be getting out. When they were seated, the waitress set out menus in front of them and then left with their drink orders.

“So…” Dan started. Neil looked up from the pasta section on the menu and found her studying him. “You’re going to be captain next year and – don’t give me that look, Neil Josten, we just went through this – how do you feel? Are you ready for it?”

Neil decided to let himself think of the future, if only to humor Dan. He pushed the imminent threat hanging over his head to the back of his mind and pretended that he was going to become captain of the Palmetto State Foxes no matter what. He took a deep breath and said, “Honestly? I don’t even know where to start. Even without the whole amnesia thing, I have no idea what I’m doing. Most of the freshmen don’t even like me.”

“They’ll listen to you,” Dan said as if it were a fact. “And if they don’t want to, then that’s their problem. You don’t realize it, Neil, but people look to you to know what to do. How much do you remember from last year?”

Neil tilted his head to the side and stopped himself from rubbing at the scar on his head. “Most of it, I think. Some memories are still blurry, but I don’t think there are any more gaps.”

“I’m glad to hear it.” Dan smiled in genuine delight. “And that means you remember how the team rallied around you last year. We were so divided, before you came along. Even after everything that happened, the Foxes were the most united last year when you pulled us together.”

“I…” Neil trailed off. He’d never thought of it like that. When he told Dan as much, she kicked him in the shin under the table, not quite hard enough for it to hurt.

“You are going to be a great captain, Neil. And if you need help, you have my number. Use it.”

The waitress came back with their drinks before Neil could respond. Dan thanked her when she set their drinks down to take out a pad of paper and a pen and asked if they knew what they wanted to eat.

Neil sipped at his water and let himself tentatively hope.

~ ~ ~

Several weeks later, the rest of the team had already deserted the locker room by the time Neil was done stuffing all his gear in his duffel bag. Neil had expected to be alone but when he zipped up his bag and turned around, Andrew was leaning against the other lockers with his arms crossed over his chest. His expression was calm and his posture relaxed. He let Neil look his fill before he turned away in a silent request for Neil to follow.

They’d won the last of the death matches and wracked up seven points in the game against the Terrapins. Tomorrow, Palmetto will play Penn State. They needed eight more points in order to secure their spot in Championships. Neil had spent the past couple nights tossing and turning thinking about it. While most people thought of Edgar Allen or USC, Penn State was still one of the highest ranked teams in the nation. Championship title or no Championship title, the Foxes would have to work hard in the game tomorrow. That thought alone was enough to make Neil lose sleep.

When Andrew and Neil made their way to where the rest of the team was waiting by the bus, Andrew snagged Neil’s duffel and went to throw it in with the rest of the luggage under the bus. Neil inclined his head gratefully and went to save their usual seat.

Even though the game wasn’t until tomorrow, Wymack wanted the team to have plenty of rest before the game so they were driving to Pennsylvania early. A cheap motel was booked so they wouldn’t have to sleep on the bus, and while Neil and Andrew were rooming with Kevin and Nicky, Neil was grateful for the extra rest. He didn’t want to have to worry about playing one of the most important games of the season after spending all day riding in a cramped bus.

Neil passed the front rows on his way to the back. Kevin shot him a look when Neil went by, but Neil ignored him. Usually when the Foxes drove to a game, Neil would sit with the rest of the strikers and talk about different strategies, but today Neil just wanted to spend as much time with Andrew as possible.

Once the bus was all loaded up and the team was situated, Wymack started the bus and pulled out of the parking lot. Andrew stared quietly out the window for the first hour of the ride while Neil watched him. With all the craziness of practice and games and classes, Neil and Andrew were left with very little time for just the two of them. They’d stolen moments here and there, quick, frantic kisses in the locker room after everyone else had left and a couple of minutes on the roof at night sharing a cigarette before they succumbed to sleep, but Neil still found himself craving the simple comfort of just being in Andrew’s presence.

“Staring,” Andrew pointed out without turning away from the window. When Neil only hummed in agreement, Andrew sighed in faux-exasperation and reached for Neil. When Andrew directed Neil’s head to his shoulder, Neil started in surprise before he melted into his side.

The hours of sleep Neil lost to worrying about the upcoming game finally caught up to him and Neil fell asleep against Andrew’s shoulder. He was just barely holding onto consciousness when Andrew placed his hand in Neil’s hair and kept it there.

Neil didn’t wake up until they were at the motel, and even then, he didn’t wake up until Andrew shoved him off his shoulder. Neil opened his eyes and glared but Andrew shrugged unapologetically.

“I was tired of you drooling all over my shirt,” Andrew said in explanation. Neil huffed and got up.

There was still several hours of daylight left until it started getting dark, so after they were done lugging their bags to their room, Nicky suggested they invited the other Foxes over and order takeout.

“I saw a Chinese place on the way here and I’m craving chow mein,” he said, rolling his eyes at Kevin’s disgruntled look at the mention of unhealthy food. “Don’t worry, Kev. I’m sure they have something there for you, too.”

Andrew didn’t seem to care what they did, but Neil thought spending the rest of the day with his team was a good idea. Nicky told Dan and Dan announced it to the rest of the Foxes. Within ten minutes, everyone was crammed in one of the small motel rooms, sprawled across the bed and scattered across the floor. Robin and Nicky were even perched on the coffee table.

When the food got there and the chaos of passing the cartons of orange chicken and chow mein around and arguing over who got the last of it was done with, Neil tucked into his fried rice. Most of the team chatted about this and that, but Neil was content to just sit back and watch.

After an hour, Andrew left to go to their room. Neil watched him go but decided to leave him be. He didn’t expect Andrew to stay the whole night and he knew Andrew tired quickly of social interaction after a while, so Neil wasn’t concerned. Andrew being there even for a little bit was enough. Neil turned back to the argument Dan and Allison were having about different celebrities and chimed in occasionally, even though he didn’t really know who they were talking about.

A movie about a fish trying to find his son that Renee found playing on one of the staticky channels was playing on the old TV. When Nicky noticed Neil was watching, he launched into a discussion about Disney movies. Neil remembered seeing a couple of them during movie nights, but he just let Nicky talk. Eventually Matt mentioned something, and even Robin commented on one of the movies Nicky was chattering away about.

“Are you worried about the game?”

Neil turned to the quiet voice behind him to find Kevin leaning against one of the beds, his legs pulled up to his chest. A plate scraped clean of whatever he’d been eating balanced on his knees. Kevin looked tired, but he also looked determined. The panic that Neil had glimpsed so many times before, the same panic Neil had felt, was nowhere to be seen.

“Yes,” Neil said. He didn’t need to say anything else, Kevin wasn’t looking for an explanation. He was in the same boat Neil was in, for the most part. He understood. Kevin just nodded and moved his plate to the side so he could stretch his legs out in front of him.

“I think we can do this,” Kevin said quietly. Neil couldn’t tell if Kevin was scared that he’d jinx it if he said it any louder or if he just didn’t want the others to overhear. A loud eruption of laughter from Matt and Nicky told Neil that they weren’t listening in to their conversation, but he kept his voice low as well.

“Yeah,” he said. “Me too.”

~ ~ ~

When Neil glanced at the alarm clock the next morning, the face read just a little after seven in the morning. Beside Neil, Andrew was still sleeping.

Last night, Neil came back to the room to find Andrew watching a dumb show on TV while he waited up for Neil and the others to get back. He didn’t remember falling asleep, he must have drifted off sometime between changing into sweatpants and settling in beside Andrew. Even after his long nap on the bus, spending the evening with the Foxes wore Neil down again. He loved them, but sometimes their rowdiness was exhausting for someone like Neil, who preferred the quiet.

He should have gotten up earlier to go for a morning run, but Neil really didn’t feel like it today. He would be spending plenty of time running around when the Foxes practiced before they played against Penn State, and even more when they played them. Right now, he was more than content to stay in bed for a little bit longer and study Andrew’s face, lax with sleep, smushed into the pillows.

Neil shifted, feeling the fatigue in his muscles fade away with every passing second. He briefly tore his gaze away from Andrew to look behind him at Kevin and Nicky sprawled across the other bed, arms and legs thrown off the sides and over one another. Nicky had his foot wedged between Kevin’s spine and the mattress, something Kevin would be sure to complain about when he woke up with a sore back.

When Neil turned back to face him, Andrew was already watching him with clear eyes. They stared at each other for a moment, stretching seconds into minutes. Neil was tracing the hard edges of Andrew’s cheek bones and the lines of his lips with his eyes, wishing he was doing it with his lips, when Andrew turned Neil’s face away.

“Did anyone ever tell you that you have a staring problem?” Andrew asked, his voice muffled from the sheets.

“I like looking at you,” Neil said unapologetically.

“Disgusting,” Andrew replied, but within seconds his hand found its place in the collar of Neil’s ratty t-shirt. He tugged on it. “You need to get rid of this.”

“Do you want me to do that right now or do you want to wait until Nicky and Kevin vacate the room?” Neil quipped.

“Smart mouth.” Andrew pulled the pillow over Neil’s face. “It’s too early for this.”

Neil took the moment to stretch out his legs before sitting up. The pillow Andrew used to half-heartedly smother Neil fell to his lap so Neil returned it to its spot on the bed. He stretched his back next, letting out a small grunt when it gave a few satisfying pops and cracks.

A hand on his hip made Neil pause. When he turned around, Andrew was squinting up at him. “We still have a couple more hours until we have to be up,” he said.

Neil took the offer for what it was and slid back under the sheets, closer to Andrew than before but still leaving several inches of space between them. Andrew’s hand trailed up Neil’s side, idly tracing patterns over his t-shirt. Neil couldn’t complain. It wasn’t often he and Andrew could have a lazy morning together.

Anxiety spread through Neil’s veins like a cold poison, sudden and unwelcome. His expression must have shuttered because Andrew withdrew his hand. “No, it’s okay,” Neil said.

When Andrew just stared at him, Neil swallowed the lump forming in his throat and explained, “I’m worried about the game tonight. I feel like my mind is spinning in constant circles, always going back to wondering what will happen if we don’t win.”

But Neil knew what would happen, and so did Andrew.

Andrew settled his hand on the nape of Neil’s neck. Neil leaned into the comforting and solid presence. “If something goes wrong, I am not going to let you go.”

“You can’t stop Ichirou from getting to me, Andrew,” Neil said. He glanced at Nicky when he let out a particularly loud snore, a reminder that he and Kevin were still in the room. When he looked back at Andrew, he saw the familiar stubborn jut of his jaw. “No matter what happens, you can’t follow me. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“I will not let you just die.”

Neil’s shoulders slumped forward as much as they could when he was laying on his side. “I don’t want you to die, too. And I’m not going to run again. I can’t. Not anymore.”

Andrew said nothing to that. He stared Neil down with an intensity Neil would never flinch from. The hand Andrew had clasped around Neil’s neck squeezed. “I’m not going to lose you again,” he said with steel finality after minutes had ticked by.

A shuffling from the other side of the room broke them from their staring contest. Neil turned his head to see Kevin and Nicky in the process of waking. The intensity of the moment was gone when Kevin nearly shoved Nicky off the side of the bed and stole the blanket. When Kevin was soundly snoring again, Nicky got out of bed, grumbling, and turned to see Andrew and Neil both staring him.

Nicky hitched a thumb over his shoulder. “He is horrible to share a bed with. I don’t know how he ever gets laid.”

Nicky wandered out of the room, mumbling under his breath. Neil thought he heard Kevin’s name and something about a bucket of cold water. The creak of the mattress when it was pressed down told Neil that Andrew was getting out of bed. When Neil looked back at him, Andrew motioned to the bathroom door and said he was going to take a shower.

The rest of the hours leading up to the game were a blur. The Foxes went to a nearby gym and Neil spent most of the time on the treadmill to make up for skipping his morning run. After that, they went to get lunch at some café that Kevin said was good.

Since they had a couple hours to themselves before they had to load up the bus and head to the stadium, most of the Foxes returned to the motel. Matt spotted a park nearby so he and Nicky took some of the freshmen. When they’d gone, Neil went over to the girls’ room when Allison texted him to come over.

Allison was closest to the door when Neil walked in. She sat cross-legged on the vanity counter in front of the mirror. She was dressed in pajama shorts and an old t-shirt that still looked better than any of the ragged shirts Neil owned that Nicky and Andrew hadn’t gotten rid of. She didn’t look up when Neil entered, she was too focused on braiding her long hair in two French braids, but she acknowledged him with a nod.

“Hey, Neil,” Dan greeted from her spot on one of the beds. “Is Andrew behind you?”

“No. He and Renee are hanging out, I think,” Neil replied, sitting on the edge of the bed.

Dan threw her legs over Neil’s lap and frowned. “Are they sparring? I don’t want either one of them hurt before the game.”

“Renee told me they’re just going for coffee.” Allison rolled her eyes, still facing the mirror. She grimaced and undid one of the braids and started over again. “She said something about not spending enough time with him or whatever.”

A knock sounded at the door and Kevin poked his head in. With one hand still gripping the loose braid in her hair, Allison chucked a nail polish at Kevin’s head. Kevin ducked and narrowly avoided getting hit in the forehead.

“What the fuck, Day!” Allison screeched. “What if one of us was getting dressed?”

“I knocked.” Kevin’s scowl deepened. “Is Neil in here?”

Dan waved her hand at Neil as if presenting him on a silver platter. “He’s right here, your royal highness.”

Kevin rolled his eyes. “Stop being immature.”

Both Dan and Allison laughed and Neil swore he saw Kevin’s frown flicker upwards just a tiny bit. Dan motioned for Kevin to come in and Kevin closed the door behind him.

By the time Allison started painting her nails a pale blue, Dan had pulled up a rerun of the USC vs. Edgar Allen death match game from a couple weeks ago. The Trojans had won that game, eliminating the Ravens in semifinals and making history. Neil had watched that game live with Kevin, and when the final buzzer sounded Neil witnessed Kevin smile sincerely for the first time in a long time. If the Foxes won their game tonight, they’d play the Trojans in the championship game.

“That’s going to get ruined in the game, you know,” Dan said, tearing her gaze away from the screen after Jean Moreau checked one of the Raven strikers so hard, he sent them skidding across the court floor. Jean wasn’t even carded for that move. For an ex-Raven, he was playing fairly clean. Being with the Trojans for a year obviously had a positive impact on him.

Allison shrugged, already painting the same color on her toes. “I can paint yours, if you want. Then we’ll have matching trashy nails.”

When the rest of the Foxes returned to the motel and Allison’s nails were done drying, the Foxes packed up their things while Wymack and Abby went down to the lobby to check them out.

By the time they were all on the bus and heading for the Penn State Exy stadium, Neil felt jittery and wired with anxiety. Not even Andrew’s shoulder pressed into his could leach away any of his nerves. He stared out the window, watching the trees silhouetted across the dark sky fly past as he picked a stray thread on his jacket. After about ten minutes, Andrew was apparently done with Neil’s restlessness and flattened his hand against Neil’s leg to stop it from bouncing.

“Sorry,” Neil mumbled. He forced his hands and feet to be still. Andrew kept his hand on Neil’s thigh, even after he stopped moving.

Five minutes later, the stadium came into view and ten minutes after that, the Foxes were in the locker room dressing out in their gear and jerseys. No one really had anything to say, not even Jack who surprisingly kept his mouth shut for the ride there.

Neil thought he could already hear the crowd screaming in the stands, but it was hard to tell over the blood pounding in his ears. When Wymack announced that there was forty-five minutes until first serve and ushered them out of the locker room and into the outer court, Neil thought his heart would leap right out of his chest.

The crowd roared when they caught sight of the Foxes. Interrupting the sea of navy blue of the Nittany Lions, entire sections of the bleachers were orange where Palmetto’s fans came to support their Foxes. The Vixens were already riling up the crowd by throwing each other in the air and shouting cheers while Palmetto’s mascot ran up and down the rows. The thousands of people in the stands clapping and stomping and screaming an arrhythmic beat disrupted the desperate pounding in Neil’s chest.

In front of him, Kevin froze and Neil had to skid to a halt to prevent running into him. He flipped around and although Neil was right behind him, Kevin’s eyes frantically searched the crowd before they found Neil.

“What is it?” Neil shouted over the crowd.

“He’s here,” Kevin said, his face pale. “Neil, Ichirou is here.”

Neil’s stomach bottomed out as the world skid to a halt. He pushed past Kevin to see into the writhing crowd, looking for one face in thousands of others. Neil’s eyes caught on the black in the swarm of orange and blue, a few rows from the front. Ichirou sat with two men on either side of him, his face calm and impassive as he surveyed the court with apparent disinterest.

Swallowing a couple times to get the metallic taste of fear out of his mouth, Neil reasoned, “He’s just watching us play. It makes sense that he’d be here tonight. We can’t let him distract us from our game.”

Kevin nodded but he still jumped when the referees’ whistles signaled for the Foxes to begin their warm-ups. Neil pushed thoughts of Ichirou and the threat he brought with him to the back of his mind and started the slow jog around the outer court, easily taking the lead of the group with Dan. After they lapped the court twice, Dan ordered them to start on simple drills.

When the teams retreated back to their respective sides in the outer court, Neil reached up and clapped Kevin on the shoulder. Kevin grasped Neil’s gloved hand and squeezed it briefly. No matter what happened, no matter how scared Neil was, they were in this together.

“Alright, Foxes,” Wymack started, flipping through the papers on his clipboard without reading anything on them. “This is the last game before Championships. In order to move on, we need to score at least eight points.

“Neil, you and Robin are going to be playing first quarter. Aaron, Matt, you two better make sure no strikers get past you to score or I’m signing both of you up for a marathon. Renee will be in goal for most of first half to save your asses, just in case. Allison is going to be in there with you so I expect a strong start.” Wymack clapped his hands as the Foxes scrambled to put on helmets and gloves.

“The Nittany Lions won’t make it easy for you. You are going to have to fight for this, and fight for it hard. I don’t want to hear any excuses, I just want to see you play your best. I believe in you, and you should believe in yourselves.” With that, Wymack tossed his clipboard to the side and pushed up his sleeves, revealing the black flames tattooed on his arms. “I expect five points in the bag by half-time or you all are running so many laps next practice you won’t be able to feel your legs. Now, get your asses on the court.”

Neil shook out his arms and twisted his racquet in his hands as he eyed the other team. Wymack gave them the rundown of the starting line or Penn State earlier so Neil mostly knew what to expect, but the Nittany Lions still had twice the number of players than they did. Palmetto’s team was larger than it was last year, but they still had few players to cycle through. Penn State could burn through half their line-up and still have more fresh players than the Foxes to put on the court.

Robin clacked her stick against Neil’s as they took their places on the line and Neil nodded in appreciation. Palmetto had first serve, so Allison held the ball in her hand, ready to throw it in the air and send it down the court for Neil to catch. She caught his eye threw and nodded.

Taking a deep breath, Neil squeezed his eyes shut until he heard the referee’s whistle to start. Then he took off down the court like a bullet.

The game started off as rough as Wymack said it would. Within minutes, players were colliding with each other and the Plexiglas walls. Neil had the ball hugged between his chest and the net of his racquet as he took his allowed ten steps and swung, aiming for Robin’s waiting net. Although she was several inches taller than Neil, she was nearly just as fast and zig-zagged across the court. Just before her backliner marked checked her and sent her sprawling to the floor, she sent the ball back to Neil.

Between them, they were able to get the ball up the court. But before Neil could score, his mark slammed into him and the ball was dislodged from his net. The backliner caught it and sent it to one of the strikers. Neil cursed and chased after it before it could get too far away from him.

He was the fastest player in NCAA Exy, but he wasn’t fast enough to catch up to the striker before he took a shot on the goal and made it. Four minutes into the game, and Penn State scored the first point.

Neil didn’t have time to dwell on the score when Renee hit the ball back up the court. The rest of the team banged their fists against the Plexiglas and cheered them on. Neil leapt and caught the ball and rebounded it to Robin.

Within minutes, a fight broke out. Both Matt and a one of the tall Nittany Lion strikers earned themselves a yellow card. By the time the first quarter was over and Neil was subbed out for Jack, the score was 2-3, Penn State’s favor.

As soon as Neil slumped down on the bench beside Andrew, Abby swarmed him and shoved cups of water and Gatorade in his hands to drink. Neil waved her off after the third cup and leaned forward to catch his breath. He was already drenched in sweat and his side was throbbing from an errant elbow to his gut when his backliner mark checked him.

Neil wondered what Ichirou was thinking. He wondered if he saw Neil stumble and mess up a shot or if he saw him fight past the brutal backliners and score just out of the goalie’s reach. Neil’s breathing didn’t slow after five minutes sitting on the bench so he tore off his helmet and doubled over it in his lap. He had until fourth quarter to get it together. He couldn’t afford to have a breakdown right now.

Neil hadn’t realized Andrew was saying something to him until Andrew ripped his helmet out of his hands and dropped it to the floor. Andrew’s hand wrapped loosely around Neil’s neck as he brought Neil’s face close to his. When Neil was finally able to breathe, Andrew leaned in close and said, “Get it together, Abram. You do not have time for this.”

Neil nodded in agreement and took a deep breath. Behind Andrew, Neil could see Kevin glancing nervously at him. Neil raised his hand, pleased to see that it didn’t shake, and waved him off. Andrew squeezed once, just enough for Neil to feel it, and let go.

At half time, the score was 5-4, Penn State leading. The court cleared and Abby went from player to player, checking aches and growing bruises and handing each a cup of water. Wymack paced in front of them, tapping his fingers on the side of his arm as he barked orders to the Foxes scrambling around him. When the fifteen minutes of half-time was up, Kevin, Jack, Nicky, Andrew, Sheena, and Dan filed onto the court and took their places against Penn State’s fresh line-up.

If the first half was rough, third quarter was worse. About ten minutes in, Jack was thrown against the wall so hard he slid to the ground and stayed down for several seconds. He struggled to get up but ultimately raised his racquet for the game to be put on hold so he could be subbed out. Two refs passed him to Abby for her to fret over and Wymack sent out Robin in his place.

Energy coursed through Neil’s body. He could have gone out and played the rest of the second half instead of just waiting out on the bench. He should be out there, not here. Last year he played full games with Kevin, he was more than capable of playing the rest of the game. He wanted to call Robin back and take her place himself, but the door was already closed when Neil stood up from the bench. Aaron, who was close by, grabbed Neil’s arm and slammed him back down before Neil could even take a step towards the court doors. Neil shook him off, snarling, but Aaron only rolled his eyes and turned back to his discussion with Matt.

Third quarter ended and two more goals had gotten past Andrew. Considering how much he blocked, a lot more should have gotten through, but Andrew had always been amazing. Kevin and Robin scored two goals between them, putting the score at 7-6, with Penn State leading. Neil’s heart was in his throat.

Neil scrambled up and snatched his helmet and gloves from the bench when Wymack called his name to take Robin’s place. Every step he took sent his heart racing. His palms were sweating but Neil was still able to get a good grip on his racquet, which was the only thing that mattered. By the time the ball was swerved, Neil was already running for it.

Kevin caught the ball and took three steps toward goal before spinning around and sending the ball to Neil. Without hesitation, Neil jumped to meet it and snagged it in his net. He dodged his backliner mark and smacked it back to Kevin. They’d practiced this a million times, hundreds of hours spent on the court well into the night, perfecting the footwork and the angles until neither one of them could move anymore. Kevin caught the ball and flicked his arm so that it slammed into the wall and lit the goal up red before Penn State could even react.

Kevin raised his racquet in the air as the Foxes and the crowd around them screamed. Neil’s grin was fast and triumphant. The stadium around them seemed to shake the entire court. They were tied with Penn State now, and they only needed one more point to progress to finals. They hadn’t won yet, but Neil’s blood was pumping fast through his veins and they had the rest of the fourth quarter to get that point and pull into the lead.

The Penn State goalie served the ball and Neil didn’t waste time watching it fly through the air. He calculated the arc and shot after it, swerving past players in orange and blue on his way to the ball. He reached out to catch it, stretching his entire body forward on the tips of his toes like a bird poised to fly. He was so close, the ball just about to fall into the net when a flash of blue and white slammed into Neil and pinned him against the Plexiglass wall hard enough to knock all the air from his lungs. Neil’s head careened with the glass behind him with a resounding crack, sending a spasm through his body and rocking the ground beneath his feet.

The world tilted dangerously to the side as Neil slumped to the ground like a ragdoll, his racquet slipping from limp fingers to crash to the floor. Tires screeched against asphalt and lights flashed in Neil’s eyes. Someone, far away, was screaming, shrill and sharp in his ears. He could taste blood in his mouth, thick and coppery on his tongue. It felt like someone was squeezing Neil’s entire skull in their hands, making his head pound so hard all he could do was screw his eyes shut and curl into a ball to wait it out.

Neil blinked. He was on the floor of the court in Penn State’s stadium, hundreds of miles and thousands of minutes away from the scene of the car accident.

His vision cleared and Andrew’s face came into focus, hovering several inches in front of Neil’s. Behind the face guard, Neil could see the concern swimming in his hazel eyes, the wrinkle in his brow. Sound slammed into Neil like a freight train, rushing back to him all at once. He could hear the inquisitive rumble of the crowd and the echo from the announcers, replaying Neil’s crash with the backliner.

“Neil.” Andrew’s mouth was moving, but the words came slower. “Are you done?”

Neil shook his head, ignoring the bolt of that went through his skull and pushed himself up. “I’m okay. I can do this,” he said. His words came out intact and clear. It was a good sign that he wasn’t slurring his speech.

Andrew still looked unsure, but Neil’s vision was clear and other than a headache and a bruised shoulder, he was fine.

The people in the stands went fanatic when Neil stood and motioned for the game to continue. They were riled up and eager for the excitement of the game to go on. Andrew’s grip on Neil’s arm loosened as he made his way back to goal after he made sure Neil really was okay. But Neil stood still for a couple more seconds, staring out at the court and its players as the world moved around him.

This was his future, and he wasn’t going to give it up without a fight. Neil hoped Ichirou was watching, he hoped he saw the crash and Neil getting back to his feet. Neil wasn’t so easy to keep down. Eight years on the run made Neil a survivor, but two years with the Foxes made him a fighter.

Neil returned to his place beside Kevin and the game began again when the ball was served.

It was a frenzy, players checking and dodging past each other. Yellow and red cards were handed out like candy to players of both teams as the game grew increasingly more violent. Neil’s muscles and joints throbbed, his head worse of all, but neither he or Kevin gave an inch to the other team.

Andrew had shut down the goal, no matter how many shots the strikers tried to take, Andrew didn’t let a single one hit its mark. A thrill went through Neil as he raced across the court. They could do this. The Foxes could do this.

The timer was counting down. With two minutes left on the clock, the Foxes and the Nittany Lions were at a stalemate with seven points each. Both teams fought against each other, pushing past each other’s backliners and aiming for the goal only to get denied the delicious taste of victory.

A stitch was forming in Neil’s side and no matter how much Neil fought to resist the tug of fatigue, he was starting to slow down. Neil knew Kevin felt it too, when he glanced over and saw Kevin struggling for every breath when they lined up for Penn State to take a penalty shot. Neil grit his teeth. One more point. They just needed one more point.

The Penn State striker took a single step and swung, aiming for the top right corner of the goal. Andrew reacted instantly, deflecting the ball and batting it with enough force it flew all the way to the other side of the court. Kevin and Neil followed as one, a two-part creature sharing one brain, communicating through quick glances and small movements from their racquets.

Kevin caught the ball and swung around to Neil when a backliner blocked his path. Neil caught it with ease and doubled back when he saw his way to the goal was blocked as well. He passed it to Kevin but Kevin rebounded it off the wall back to Dan as he fought with his backliner. Dan tossed it in the air, her position on the court not much better than Kevin’s.

There was a space between Neil’s backliner mark and the Penn State dealer dogging his steps. Neil saw his opportunity when Kevin and Dan juggled the ball back and forth between each other to keep it away from Penn State. He ran through the gap of bodies and twisted around just in time to catch the ball Dan passed to him.

Time slowed down. The world narrowed and the only thing Neil could hear in the large stadium was his ragged breathing and his footsteps across the court. The thirty seconds left of the game counted down slowly, in time with his steady heartbeat. An arm interrupted Neil’s view of the goal but Neil ducked under it and dodged the other backliner waiting for him. Twenty seconds left on the clock, two more steps for Neil to take.

One step towards the goal. Neil shifted and aimed the ball to line up his shot. At the last second, Neil took his second and last step and pivoted on his right foot. He swung for the bottom corner of the goal and watched the ball leave his racquet.

It was out of Neil’s hands now. The goalie dove for it, but she was too late. Neil’s shot slammed into the corner of the goal, lighting up Neil’s world red as the buzzer reverberated through his body.

Before Neil could even catch his breath or before Penn State could snatch up the ball and take it down the court to try for another point, the second buzzer announced the end of the game. Kevin and Dan were at Neil’s side in an instant, yelling so loudly Neil’s ears rang with their voices. Down the court, Neil could see the rest of the Foxes cheering and celebrating. They won, 7-8. Eight points. The Foxes were going to finals for the second year in a row.

A slow grin spread across Neil’s face. Across the court, Andrew leaned across his racquet. The only sign he was affected at all was the heavy rise and fall of his chest. Dan looped her arm around Neil’s shoulders before his legs could give out and send him toppling to the floor again. Together they made their way to the rest of the teams lining up to shake each other’s hands.

The only thing Neil felt when the Foxes made their way off the court was the savage triumph swelling in his chest. Ichirou was an afterthought. Neil didn’t think he could be scared when victory was coursing through his veins. Matt and Sheena were assigned press duty while the rest of the Foxes made their way to the locker rooms. Neil was grateful, he didn’t think he had the breath for dealing with reporters.

Neil met up with Andrew in the locker room. He hadn’t quite managed to erase the grin on his face when Andrew rounded on him, but Andrew didn’t seem to mind.

“You closed down the goal,” Neil said, his grin only growing wider with awe. “That’s a lot of work for someone who doesn’t care about Exy.”

Andrew rolled his eyes. “Well, unfortunately I care about your dumbass. Now go shower before the smell sets in. I can barely stand you as it is.”

The steadying hand Andrew had around Neil’s wrist easily negated his words. Neil laughed and fetched his clothes. He waited for the rest of the team to finish before he made his way to the stall-less showers. Even after a win like that, Neil didn’t feel like stripping in front of the rest of the team.

After letting the hot water work the ache in his muscles, he turned off the shower and toweled the rest of the water off of his body so he could get dressed. When he left the showers, the first thing Neil saw Andrew. Alarm bells immediately went off in his head. The line of Andrew’s shoulders was tense and he held his body as if preparing for a fight. When Neil rounded the corner, he saw why.

Ichirou Moriyama stood in front of Neil, his guards flanking both his sides. They were all dressed in impeccable black suits and ties. They looked like they had finished an important business meeting more than they looked like they had just watched an Exy game. Looking at them, the only thing that gave away what a danger they presented were the guns resting at their hips. Neil raised his chin and met Ichirou’s unerring stare, refusing to back down.

Kevin’s face was strained from where he stood beside Andrew. When Neil entered the room, his eyes found Neil’s. Where Neil expected to find panic and desperation, he saw determination behind the fear.

“Wesninski,” Ichirou greeted. It sounded more like a threat than a pleasantry. In the corner of his eye, Andrew stiffened and clenched his fists while Kevin shot sharp glances between the two of them. Ichirou then looked to Kevin and Andrew and flicked his fingers dismissively. “You two may leave. I will speak to Nathaniel alone.”

Kevin looked confused before Ichirou’s words set in. His eyes widened. Kevin was free to go, but Neil was not. Andrew’s mouth tightened like he was about to argue but there was only one of him and four of Ichirou’s guards. Even with knives, Andrew didn’t stand a chance against armed guards. Neil met his eyes and gave a near imperceptible nod. Andrew stared at him for a long time before he dragged a lagging Kevin from the room.

Neil knew he should wait before Ichirou addressed him, but Neil’s blood was laced with fire. His father was the butcher, after all. Neil met Ichirou’s gaze head-on. “My Lord, if I may. My team played well tonight and will be advancing to finals in the coming weeks. I scored several of those points and even scored us the final goal. To dispose of me now would be a lost opportunity for winning finals a second year in a row.”

Ichirou inclined his head. His eyes glinted, and Neil knew he wasn’t pleased with him speaking out of turn. “Are you suggesting I extend the deadline? You are bargaining for a few more weeks of your life until I come again at the end of that game as well. You cannot keep pushing this back.”

“I’m not asking for you to extend the deadline. I’m asking for you to abolish it.” Neil paused and waited for Ichirou to motion for him to continue. “I have proved, time and again, that I am a valuable asset.”

“I am not happy with you, Wesninski. You still speak out of turn and plead for your dying case. I would save myself from so much trouble if I washed my hands of you completely,” Ichirou said, his voice never wavering. Neil swallowed.

“I am sorry, Lord Moriyama.” Neil bowed his head, still not taking his eyes off of the mob boss. “But happy or not, I will continue to make you money through my future career as a professional Exy player, if you’d let me. If you get rid of me now, you will not get the money I promised you.”

Ichirou was silent. Neil really hoped he was considering Neil’s words and not thinking about all the ways to kill him. Minutes seemed to pass, marked only by the loud thudding of Neil’s heart. Andrew was waiting outside for him, like he always would be. The Foxes were there as well, still drunk on their victory. Neil’s death would ruin more than just an Exy season.

He couldn’t die now, not after all of this, after all he survived. Neil had fought hard to get back to where he was before the car accident so many months ago. He didn’t want all of that to go to waste.

“Very well,” Ichirou finally conceded and Neil let out a small breath that was trapped in his lungs. “I suppose you can still be of use to me. But I expect you to keep your mouth more in check, next time we meet. And yes, there will be many next times. Now leave.”

Neil didn’t need to be told twice. He kept his footsteps even until he was out of the door and down the hall, away from Ichirou’s sight. He staggered with relief and squeezed his eyes shut as he leaned against the wall. When he opened them, Andrew was standing in front of him with his arms loose at his sides. Andrew was the only one in the long hallway. He must have sent Kevin ahead to the others.

Neil looked at him. He had all the time in the world to be with Andrew, now that Neil no longer had a death sentence. He felt the smile spreading across his face even before Andrew narrowed his eyes. “I’m going to be captain next year,” he said.

“Yes or no –”

“Yes.”

Neil answered Andrew’s question before he could even finish it. Andrew leaned in but Neil was already falling into him. He pressed Neil against the wall and gave him a bruising kiss that burned through his body like a wildfire. Neil thought it was the sweetest thing he had ever tasted.

They had to keep it brief, but Neil let himself drop his head against Andrew’s shoulder for a couple minutes as he laughed with giddy relief. Andrew’s fingers worked through his hair, sending the droplets of water still clinging to the strands dripping to the floor. Andrew lifted Neil’s head with a hand on his chin and leveled him an even stare. Neil twined his fingers with Andrew’s, still tangled in his hair. Neil didn’t believe in a god, but the kiss he placed on the corner of Andrew’s mouth was the closest he’d ever come to a prayer.

Andrew pulled away and leaned his forehead against Neil’s. Neil’s breathing was even, his heartbeat steady. He was alive, and he had the permission to continue to live. To play Exy. To love Andrew.

Neil grinned and pulled Andrew closer. “Let’s go home,” he whispered in the scant inches between them. Andrew lifted his head, his hazel eyes reminding Neil that he already had his home right in front of him.

“You did it, Abram.”

#tfc #aftg #the foxhole court #all for the game #neil josten #andrew minyard #andreil #she's finished!!!!!!#whew i might actually cry #wow #pause and restart #now we just need an epilogue #my writing #mine #finished fic #man that felt good to type

40 notes · View notes

fuzzballsheltiepants · 6 years

Text

Falling

If you haven’t read the whole All For the Game trilogy, don’t read this fic until you have (and seriously, what are you waiting for?!?!). It’s a scene from The King’s Men from Andrew’s point of view, inspired in part by an ask Nora answered. @catastrophicallyinlovewithbooks @wayfaringbibliophile @snaps7 I think you guys were interested in this one

“Thank you. You were amazing.”

The words were innocent and mundane enough to not merit a second thought, despite Allison’s idiotically gleeful reaction. It was the bleak finality in the tone, the soft good-bye in Neil’s eyes, that set Andrew’s teeth on edge. Why now, why here?

Before he could push Neil against the wall, before he could force the answers out of him, the security guard turned and Wymack gestured for them to follow. Andrew lined up right behind Neil, training his eyes on the back of his head. He could get what he needed on the bus.

The rowdy crowd barely registered, until a bottle came winging over. Andrew tracked it in his peripheral vision as it hit Aaron in the shoulder; at his brother’s curse he glared into the crowd, daring whoever threw it to try again. More debris followed, all narrowly missing the team before the pigs appeared, yelling at the crowd and starting to muscle their way between the fans and the Foxes. Then a cooler flew over Dan and knocked down a Palmetto State fan and all hell broke loose.

The surge of bodies forced the team apart, the Binghamton and Palmetto State fans throwing wild punches and not caring who was caught in the crossfire. Andrew was nearly swept under by several larger men, and he punched and kicked his way free, deciding against pulling his knives as he didn’t want the jail time. Kevin, he had to find Kevin; the man could brawl on the court but was useless off of it. Finally, he ducked under a swinging arm and saw Kevin, standing white-faced on the fringes of the fray as usual, no doubt cataloguing his teammates’ injuries. Abby was next to him, but nobody else Andrew recognized. He turned back to the brewing riot.

Matt’s head appeared briefly before snapping back as a punch landed on his jaw; he shook it off and ducked back in. Andrew stood up on his toes trying to find Aaron or Neil, but neither was visible. Landing a blow to the kidney of someone in a Bearcats shirt, he pushed his way through flailing bodies. He heard Allison’s indignant shriek echo above the noise, and caught a glimpse of her being yanked sideways before a flash of bright hair indicated Renee lighting into the fool who grabbed her.

Then there were sirens blaring and more lights flashing red and white, as ambulances and more pigs descended upon the scene. Just as Andrew heard police dogs begin to bark, there was a blinding blow to the side of his head that nearly took him off his feet. He reflexively grabbed the arm that had hit him and twisted up and back; as the torso dropped in front of him he swept out with his heel, hooking the ankles and dropping the grunting man to his knees. A fist to the back of the neck had the man sprawling, and Andrew stepped over him, blinking against the white spots in the side of his vision. There was a crashing of batons against shields, then the unmistakable whiff of pepper spray followed by wailing from whatever idiot got in the line of the spray.

As the cops began to get a handle on the chaos, Andrew heard his name being yelled and turned to see Nicky waving an arm over the simmering crowd. He began elbowing his way towards him. The density of people thinned and he heard Nicky yell, “Neil! Hey, Coach, have you seen Neil?” He moved faster.

The team was clustered near where the fight had started. A cop stood on the fringe talking to Wymack. Matt looked the worst for wear; Renee, cradling her arm against her body, wasn’t far behind him. Kevin appeared untouched, and Dan, Nicky and Aaron weren’t too bad off. Nicky looked like he wanted to pull Andrew into a hug but refrained. “Andrew, where’s Neil?”

Andrew shook his head and turned to start searching but Abby blocked his path. “Andrew, let me look at you.”

“No.”

He pushed past her, and heard Wymack mutter, “Let him go, Abby.” Footsteps sounded just behind him; he didn’t turn to see who it was. The crowd had thinned out drastically but there were still enough people to block one smallish man from easy view. Andrew turned to see if at least it was one of the taller people who had followed; it was Kevin.

“Do you see him?” Andrew asked.

Kevin paused from craning to see over the people around them to shake his head. They wove through the parking lot surrounding the stadium in a loose serpentine like hunting dogs but the only flash of red hair Andrew saw belonged to a young girl. Kevin let out a strangled noise and lunged forward; there was a brief surge of something in Andrew’s chest that promptly died when he spotted the racquet Kevin had picked up. Fucking Kevin. Fucking Exy. But it was Neil’s racquet, of course it was Neil’s. The stupid-ass orange and white heavy racquet that only Kevin and Neil would care so goddamn much about.

He’s gone.

Andrew gritted his teeth against that voice in his head. They walked another hundred yards before a flash of orange caught his eye, in the hands of some assholes who were decidedly not entitled to it. He caught them up, Kevin hanging back like the coward he was, and just the flash of one of the knives in his bands had them dropping the bag and running off.

He’s gone.

Kevin came over and knelt next to him as he unzipped the bag. Just Neil’s sweaty uniform and shoes and pads in the main compartment. Andrew looked at the net pocket at the end; there was a flash of silver and the slight jingle of metal. Neil’s phone and his keys.

Andrew pulled the keys out first. He found himself tracing the edge of the key to the house in Columbia as he always saw Neil do and forced himself to stop. The phone, the phone had something, had to have something.

He flipped it open and checked the texts, all from the team except one, the most recent one, from an unknown number. It just read “0”. Nothing else, just the number. He scrolled further but there was no other oddity. The call log only contained his number, Wymack’s from the end of December, and then one from tonight from a 443 area code, an incoming call of 67 seconds and a call out that didn’t connect. He pressed “send” and it went straight to a mailbox that was not set up. Shit.

He’s gone.

“We should get back,” Kevin said. Andrew gave him the finger and stood up, hefting the bag over his shoulder and turning to continue his circuit. By the time they rounded the far end of the stadium and headed back around the long way, the lot was emptying out and there was no sign of Neil, no flash of red other than the Coke signs on the food stands. They finished their lap, spotting the PSU bus but still no Neil. There was relief on Wymack’s and Abby’s faces when they reappeared; it disappeared when Andrew slung the bag onto the pavement.

“You didn’t find him?”

Andrew gave Wymack a flat look in response. Kevin shook his head. “I think he must’ve run,” he says, glancing at Andrew.

“But why?” Abby asked. “Why would he do that after all this time?”

Kevin looked like he was going to say something, like he knew something, but he stopped and shook his head again instead. “I don’t know.”

“Bullshit,” Andrew said, and Kevin took a step back as Andrew turned to him. Yes, Kevin definitely knew something; Andrew could read it in every line of his body, in the flat panic in his eyes. “He wouldn’t have run without these.” He held up the keys he’d found in the duffel. Without his keys he couldn’t get into the dorm; without getting into the dorm he couldn’t get his binder with what was left of his money.

Andrew pocketed the keys and the phone and turned back, noting as he did so that Matt and Renee were missing as well. Sent to the hospital, no doubt, but that didn’t matter. He made another circuit of the stadium and this time nobody followed him. Still no sign of him, and Andrew could feel it then, feel the fire burning in his veins, the fire that his damn medication had damped for so long.

If we don’t find him I will burn this place to the ground.

This time when he made it back around Abby wasn’t taking no for an answer. When he waved her off, she promised him that Wymack would get security to open up the stadium for them to search. She did a concussion test and felt gently along his cheekbone and he forced himself to stay still, to not flinch, to not give her any reason to take him from here. The light she shone in his eye was too bright and he blinked back against it.

“Andrew,” she said in her stupidly calm medical professional voice, “I need to take you to the hospital.”

“No.” He started to walk away and she reached for him, stopping at the look he leveled at her.

“You have some bleeding in your eye. You could have detached your retina. We need to get it checked out, if it’s not treated you could lose vision.”

“Fuck off, Abby.” He ignored Nicky’s indignant reaction and turned to Wymack. “I let her examine me, now get me into the stadium.”

Wymack threw his cigarette on the ground and stepped on it. “Damnit, Andrew, you need to listen to her. If Neil’s somehow in the stadium, he’s okay.” Andrew started walking towards the gate; as he approached he spotted a rent-a-cop standing near it.

The man shrugged when Andrew told him he’d left something behind, and let him in without protest. He checked the stands first, running the steps as if he hadn’t just played the damn sport, as if it wasn’t past eleven at night. There was nothing, no sign of Neil, and the fire in his veins flared higher. He went below, to the visitors’ locker room but it was empty, even the trash cans had been dumped. The showers were still damp but there was no other evidence they had ever been there. He paused on his way back out, picturing Neil’s stricken face, hearing again the farewell in his words.

Damn you, Neil.

When he emerged, Wymack was waiting for him. “Andrew, you have to go with Abby and get checked out. I’ll stay here in case he comes back.”

“Call the police.”

“I already talked to the campus police. He’s an adult, Andrew. They won’t do anything, not yet.”

“Call the police.”

Cursing, Wymack pulled out his cell phone and dialed. 9-1-1. Andrew listened as Wymack explained the situation, about one of his players going missing in the riot that had just taken place at Binghamton. Listened as Wymack described him: 5’3”, 135 pounds, red hair, blue eyes, tattooed number four on his left cheekbone. Distilled to his barest essentials, missing all that made him Neil.

Andrew turned away from that useless thought as Wymack hit End on his phone and walked over to Abby. “You can take me now.”

The hospital was crowded with the fools who had been caught in the riot, and an hour passed before he was taken to a bed that sat in a hallway. They didn’t even bother with curtains around it, the nurse took his vitals and a few minutes later the harried doctor came by with some fancy equipment. Andrew didn’t speak to any of them as they dilated his eye and looked carefully at the internal structures, just hopped off the bed and walked away when they reported no damage to the retina and discharged him with some sort of drops to put in every four hours.

Abby took the bottle from him before he could drop it in the trash can, and they met up with Renee in the waiting room. Andrew grabbed her chin and studied her black eye for a second. Despite the splint on her wrist she seemed acceptably okay, and she nodded to him with her slow smile when he released her face. Then they had to wait around for Matt.

Andrew was ready to call a cab to get back to the stadium by the time Matt was discharged, even though he knew Wymack or Kevin or Nicky would’ve texted him if there had been any sign of Neil. When the bus pulled back into the lot of course it was just as they had left it, a parking lot full of trash and the rest of the team.

He’s gone.

Andrew followed Abby off the bus and listened to her give Wymack a status update on the three of them. Dan and Allison went onto the bus to check on Matt and Renee; Nicky and Kevin sidled closer to Andrew. Aaron was sitting on a bench a little ways off and he was just staring at Andrew. He wanted to go over and make him stop but it wasn’t worth it.

Instead he started walking again, then jogging, lapping the stadium again, and there was still no sign of him, still nothing but the burning hollowness growing in his gut. He wanted to start dismantling the stadium, tearing it apart bolt by bolt with his bare hands until they found some sign, some answer. He pulled the phone out of his pocket and looked again at the “0”, looked again at the number he already knew by heart. Who was this? Who dared to call his Neil? Who were they who were they who were they -

“Andrew.” It was Wymack again, and this time he handed him a cigarette. It had been hours since he’d had one and he took a long drag, letting the nicotine settle in just a little bit.

“We need to think about heading back,” Wymack said, carefully not looking at him.

“No.” It was Dan who spoke for him, who spared him the necessity of putting a knife in Wymack’s gut. “Not until we know more, Coach. We can sleep on the bus or something, but we can’t leave yet.”

Nicky and Matt nodded in agreement, and Wymack and Abby exchanged long looks. In the end, everybody but Andrew filed onto the bus to sleep. He stretched out on the bench Aaron had vacated, using Neil’s duffel as a pillow. Not that he could sleep, when every time he closed his eyes he could hear a door clicking shut, the groan of a mattress as weight settled on it. Not when eyes open or shut he could feel himself falling, falling, even as the ridges of the bench dug into his back.

Hours passed, and he didn’t know how long he had been shivering in the damp chill before dawn when he heard the bus doors open and Wymack emerged, phone held to his ear.

“Yes, this is David Wymack,” he was saying as his feet hit the pavement. “What? Who- oh! He’s where?” His hand came up to cover his eyes and Andrew sat up and blinked to clear his eyes. He could see a faint tremor in that hand in the bright lights of the parking lot, and suddenly he was at Wymack’s elbow without being aware he had moved. “How the hell- okay, okay, I understand. Yes. Yes. Damnit, I said yes. We’ll be there as soon as we can, text me the address.” He pulled the phone away from his ear and swore softly at the blank screen that stared back at him.

“Where is he.”

There was exhaustion and grief in every line of Wymack’s face when he turned to Andrew. “Get on the bus, Andrew.”

“Where is he.” The wind was whistling past his ears as he fell. he’s gone, he’s gone, he’s gone

“Just get on the bus.”

Wymack turned and climbed the stairs and Andrew followed, so close he was almost stepping on him. Abby was awake, and nodded at whatever Wymack muttered in her ear, but everybody else was passed out on the seats. Everyone but Kevin. Kevin, who could sleep anywhere. Kevin, who was impossible to wake up, but who was looking at them now with eyes like burned-out holes. Andrew went down the bus to sit behind him.

Abby got behind the wheel and the engine turned over with a throaty rumble. The bus’s vibrations startled Dan and Renee into wakefulness, and at a gesture from Wymack they woke the rest of the team. As Abby pulled out onto the stadium street, Wymack cleared his throat.

“I just got a call from the FBI,” Wymack said. The team looked at each other in surprise and confusion - all but Kevin. Andrew noticed the way he curled into himself. “Neil has been found. He’s in Baltimore.”

“Is he alive?” Kevin asked hoarsely.

“Jesus, Kevin,” Nicky said, startled.

“Really, Kevin, that’s…” Abby trailed off.

“Is he?” Andrew demanded, as Wymack hadn’t answered yet.

“Yes.” Wymack rubbed the back of his neck. “He’s alive, but he’s been badly injured.” He raised his voice to be heard over the resulting exclamations. “No, I don’t know how badly, I just know he was admitted to the hospital. I don’t know what happened, or how he ended up there, just that he was taken in a raid on his father’s house. They’re asking us to come down there so they can ask us some questions.”

The bus was a cacophony of sounds, of voices, of questions and shouts and the creaking of vinyl seats. Yet it went silent when Andrew turned to Kevin and said, “You know.” Kevin’s green eyes were wide with fear and something else as he looked up at Andrew, but he didn’t reply beyond a quick shake of his head. “You know something, and you’re going to tell me, right now.”

Kevin looked down, too cowardly to hold Andrew’s gaze. With a quick lunge, Andrew got his right hand around his throat and shoved him up against the window. “Tell me, now.” There were more yells and the stomping of feet but when Kevin didn’t even try to answer, Andrew just squeezed, increasing pressure until Kevin was choking, until his face was purple and he was opening his mouth soundlessly, his hands slapping ineffectually against Andrew’s armbands. He held on until an arm wrapped around Andrew’s own neck and more hands were yanking on him, twisting his left arm back and around, until slender fingers dug into the pressure points on his wrist and his hand went numb. He was pulled back against a large body, and another was crowding him, shoving him by sheer force of mass up the aisle.

Kevin was gasping and coughing, Nicky and Dan were crowding around him, Abby yelling something from the front. Wymack was still holding him, Matt still pushing him back, ready to fight even with the bruises and torn skin on his hands. Renee was watching with her unfathomable eyes, and he knew she would stop him again, would do whatever she had to, would turn the blades she had given him against him if necessary. Andrew didn’t give a shit about any of this, all he cared about was getting the truth, finally the truth.

It took a long time, too long, before Dan and Wymack would get out of his face; before they would stop yelling enough to hear him. “He knows,” Andrew kept saying, and he couldn’t understand why they didn’t seem to see the urgency. “He knows something about Neil, and he hasn’t told us, and now Neil is in some hospital because of it.”

Finally they stopped, and Kevin started. Andrew watched him the whole time, watched every word leave his lips as he talked about Neil who was really Nathaniel, whose father was a hit man - the hit man - for the main branch of the Moriyamas. Nathaniel, who had been sold to Tetsuji, who should have been like the useless Jean or Kevin or dead. Nathaniel, whose mother had taken him and fled, who had never told him what they were running from, who had taught him to lie and hide and do whatever he could to survive but nothing about how to live.

And then the story was over and the sky was lightening and they were driving through New Jersey, and there was nothing to do but wait. Years in juvie had taught him all about waiting, about finding that quiet place where the buzzing disappears. Yet he kept finding himself playing with Neil’s phone, with his keys, with these pieces of him that might have been truth or might have been lies. He should have known better, should have known when Neil asked him to let him go… but he had asked, and Andrew had agreed, and he didn’t know what scraps of him they were going to find when they got to Baltimore. So he watched the bland scenery and fought back against the fall, against the dawning realization that Neil had done what he always had said he would on the roof; he had dragged Andrew with him, I am falling -

The FBI had put them up in some cheap-ass motel with a pool that it was too cold to use. They were herded into one room with double beds and not enough space, and there was some prick in a suit who kept fingering his gun and trying to act like he was tough.

“What hospital is he at?” Andrew asked Wymack, who looked at him blankly. “What hospital?” he asked the prick in the suit.

“It doesn’t matter,” was the answer, and Andrew debated pulling one of his knives.

“It matters,” said Wymack, staring down at the man.

Another man and a woman showed up then, asking questions but refusing to answer any. They hadn’t taken into account who they were dealing with, evidently, and when they refused to disclose Neil’s location they were met with stony silence from the Foxes. Even Nicky kept his mouth shut by some miracle.

Andrew had had enough, it didn’t matter what they said or what they brought for food or the fact that he knew nothing about Baltimore and had no clue where they were. He found a map in the motel’s information book and began studying it, marking where they were and the three closest hospitals. If they wouldn’t bring him to Neil, he’d go there himself.

An agent blocked the door when they saw where he was going. He gave her a bored look that she met with an impressive one of her own. “Coach, control your players,” drawled the big man who had been there first.

“Andrew,” Wymack said, “you don’t want to make this more difficult for Neil.”

“We don’t even know for sure that they have Neil,” Andrew retorted. “We’re going by their word.”

“Oh, we have Nathaniel,” the female agent said. “But we don’t need to prove anything to you. We need you to give us your statements, and then we’ll be on our way and you can go back to Palmetto State.”

Andrew tapped his lip twice, then pointed at her. “Fuck that. I’ll give you my statement after I see Neil.”

There was a chorus of agreement from the rest of them, and the female agent rolled her eyes and left. Andrew tried to follow her - almost managed to - but the fat agent blocked him and pulled out his handcuffs.

“Coach, if you can’t control him I’m going to have to take him into custody.”

Wymack bristled, but he turned to Andrew, defeat written across his face. “Just…just cuff him to me, I’ll keep track of him.”

The click of the handcuffs was familiar, as was the boredom of the confinement. The others all found stuff to keep them occupied, the television or a book or just pacing up and down. Andrew sat cross-legged on the bed and waited, counting breaths until everything around faded, but he couldn’t stop that sense of falling.

Just as Abby had broken out her kit to work on Allison and Renee and Matt, the female agent returned some time later looking irritated. She handed her phone to Wymack, who glanced at Andrew then turned away as much as the cuff would allow while he pressed the phone to his ear. “No, of course not. Why would we?” There was a long pause and Andrew could hear angry buzzing through the phone. “Sure. Sure. Okay, I’ll move it.” He handed the phone back to the agent and turned to Andrew. “Get up.”

“What? No.”

Wymack ignored him and stood up. Everyone’s eyes turned to him. “They’re going to bring Neil by when he’s discharged from the hospital,” he said. “I need to go move the bus, they won’t come here until I do.”

“Why not?” Matt asked.

“Press,” guessed Allison, and Wymack nodded. He looked at Andrew, a patient question in his eyes, and Andrew unfolded himself and got to his feet. He scanned the parking lot when they reached it, memorizing the cars, the nondescript black and gray and blue sedans and SUVs that dotted the lot. There were men dotting the lounging area in catalog-ready polo shirts and khakis, all obviously feds; same with the women who were settling onto lounges around the pool despite the temperature barely reaching the 60s. Andrew wondered if anyone actually fell for this bullshit.

Wymack opened up the bus but waited for Andrew to be ready before he climbed up. Andrew had to stand and brace himself while they moved to a lot behind an office building about half a mile away, the cuff not allowing him to reach a seat. As soon as the ignition was off he was moving, Wymack cursing behind him and finally using his weight to plant Andrew long enough to secure the bus.

The walk back earned them more than a couple of looks, though Wymack tried to look casual about the fact that he was handcuffed to Andrew. The difference in their heights made it impossible for Andrew’s hand to dangle naturally but he didn’t care. Wymack accepted the silence until they reached the parking lot and there was a new SUV there. “Andrew,” he warned, bracing himself against Andrew’s lunge forward. “Be careful. These are federal agents, and I have no idea what happened, why Neil is in their custody.” Andrew ignored him, plowing ahead up the stairs. “Andrew, they are giving us a gift -”

The sound Wymack’s body made as he hit the side of the motel would have been satisfying in another situation. It was the understanding in his eyes that was unforgivable. But Andrew didn’t have time to deal with that, so he let it go and pushed into the door, shoving the fed out of the way.

Neil was there, he was saying “don’t,” but he was crumpling and his voice was cracked with pain and Andrew had to reach him. Wymack helped whether he meant to or not and then Andrew was touching Neil, had his hand on his neck, was pushing him down before he fell down. He knelt in front of Neil, and as his knees dug into the dingy carpet, his fingers still on Neil’s skin, he stopped. The falling - stopped. Neil was here, he was alive, he was broken in ways Andrew didn’t want to consider - but he was here. He was the net that stopped the fall and Andrew knew then that he was done, he was lost and found all in this one moment when those blue eyes lifted to his.

#aftg #all for the game #the foxhole court #tfc #andrew minyard #neil josten #nathaniel wesninski #andriel #my writing #the king's men

908 notes · View notes

nickireadstfc · 6 years

Text

The King’s Men, Chapter 12 – Highway To Hell

In which things go really beautifully well, and then really fucking horrible.

Sounds good? No, it doesn’t. It’s time for Nicki to read The King’s Men.

You guys warned me about this one, and for the entire first half of the chapter I was like “what are they on about, this is wonderful, there’s so many great things happening”, like I was genuinely considering y’all might have had your chapters mixed up.

And then.

Oh god.

Let’s take it from the top, shall we? Let’s go back to a time where things were easy, chill and beautifully gay.

(Also, welcome to yet another 3k word dump, because this chapter is an absolute monster.)

The Foxes are on the road to Binghamton, their next big opponent before semi-finals. And less than half a page in, the first miracle of the day happens – or rather, the first miracle of the Day:

The monsters voluntarily and easily socialize with the rest of the team, led by none other than Kevin.

Granted, it’s to talk Exy strategies which, as we know, is Recommended Kevin Bait, but my teamwork-loving heart is not gonna complain.

The best thing about this, though, is that Neil actively refuses to join their sweet sweet Sportsball Talk just to make sure Andrew won’t feel left out.

Excuse me while I cry into my rainbow-coloured jersey.

Linked to that – and we’ve not had these in a while, so I’m proud to present you – Today’s Casually Mentioned, Yet Heartbreakingly Sad Neil Fact is:

Neil had spent his entire life drifting by on the outskirts, looked over and looked past. It’d made him happy, or so he thought, because being ignored meant he was safe. He hadn’t realized how lonely he was until he met the Foxes.

Uhmm, cue my tears.

Kevin, though, isn’t so happy his favourite minion in training isn’t cooperating:

“You gave me your game. You don’t have the right to walk away from me when I am trying to teach you.”

“I gave my game to you so we could get to finals,” Neil sent back, “but you said yesterday you don’t expect us to make it there. You’ve given up on us, so I’m taking my game back. I don’t owe you anything.”

Damn, you tell him, Josten.

Neil has exactly -3 fucks left to give and it’s absolutely glorious.

In other news – we’ve reached the end of the Suspicious Countdown (shoutout here to the anon recreating this in my ask box, you sly fuck).

Every night since his birthday he’d gotten a number texted to him. Today’s sobering “0” had arrived during lunch. Neil didn’t know what to make of it. (…) It was as anticlimactic as it was nerve-wracking.

Same, my boy. This shit is unnerving.

Well, I’m sure this is absolutely harmless and nothing will happen at all.

To distract himself from the Slight Feeling of Impending Doom, Neil engages in his new favourite pastime:

Adoringly gazing at Andrew’s handsome features like a love-sick pathetic idiot.

Neil didn’t know what he was looking for. Andrew looked as he always had, and Neil knew his face as well as he knew every iteration of his own. Despite that, something seemed different. Maybe it was the sunlight streaming through the window, making Andrew’s pale hair shine brighter and his hazel eyes seemed almost gold. Whatever it was, it was disorienting.

Oh boy, oh my sweet innocent summer child, I can tell you right fucking exactly what it is.

Your ass is the fuck in love.

“I’m not doing anything,”

“I told you to not look at me like that.”

Neil didn’t understand, so he let it slide.

…… //looks into the camera like I’m on the office.

Any time I think this boy is done being oblivious, he instantly goes back on his bullshit.

Although maybe –

“I didn’t say anything [when we were talking about zombie apocalypses] because I knew I’d look out for only me when the world went to hell. I don’t want to be that kind of person anymore. I want to go back for you.”

Uhmm, EXCUSE ME WHILE I CRY.

Can these idiots like – fucking stop being sappy and gross, I did not expect this bullshit from them, give a girl some fucking warning.

Jesus fuck.

And they keep going, of course – being on the road to Binghamton reminds Neil of his time Being On The Road, and so he casually tells Andrew all the shit that happened to him on his travels, which of course he never told a single soul before.

Natch.

It passed the time, though, and Andrew let him ramble. He never once took his eyes of Neil’s face or looked like he was mentally tuning out of the conversation.

Oh yeah, also of course Andrew is a love-sick pathetic idiot as well.

Natch.

And Neil uses that to get Andrew to open up about his travels between foster homes and his time with Aaron, which he also never told anyone before.

Fucking natch.

[Andrew took] care of Aaron’s addictions. He stocked the upstairs bathroom with canned food and barricaded Aaron in there until he had finished withdrawal. Luckily (…) there were no neighbors close enough to hear Aaron’s best attempts at breaking out.

Andrew Minyard, putting the ‘love’ in ‘tough love’ since 2010.

These brothers are everything, haters please exit in a left-directed fashion.

When they make their next pit stop, Coach doesn’t even make any attempts at separating Andrew and Neil, which brings on one of my favourite bits in this chapter:

Neil’s oblivious ass comes to the realization that Coach Knows™.

“I really want to know when Coach figured this out.”

“It isn’t a ‘this’,” Andrew reminded him.

Oh yeah, please also know that every time I’m shouting at Neil to stop being so oblivious this of course also extends to his smaller, deadlier counterpart.

Last November Neil put Andrew’s hands to his damaged skin and asked Andrew to believe in him. Somehow Wymack had seen right through Neil’s crushing guilt and Andrew’s grudging trust.

Well, if I saw two idiots that have been radiating tension all semester anyways suddenly fumbling under each other’s shirts, I would get suspicious too.

“How did he see it when Aaron and Nicky still can’t?”

“Coach doesn’t care for rumours and bias,” Andrew said. “He sees what is, not what people want him to see.”

Which is the reason why David Fucking Hufflepuff Dad Wymack is the best damn character in this series, no questions asked, no other opinions accepted. Thank you for coming to my TED talk.

I need more Wymack love in this fandom always.

In related news, though – apparently the upperclassmen are betting on Neil’s sexuality, which is just about the best thing ever. Also, heck yeah, I called it.

Apparently, they’re split down the middle. In my book, this means Matt and Allison betting on Gay Neil, while Dan and Renee bet on Straight Neil.

(You’d think Renee would bet on Gay Neil since she’s subject to Andreil Pining every practice break, but nope – you can’t tell me Allison Reynolds, Lipstick Bisexual and Bad Bitch Extraordinaire doesn’t have her gaydar on lock.

I rest my case.)

“It’s a waste of time and money. They’ll all lose. I’ve said all year I don’t swing and I meant it. Kissing you doesn’t make me look at any of them differently. The only one I’m interested in is you.”

I’mma go fling myself into the fucking sun.

Brutally Honest About His Feelings Josten is a very, very good Josten.

Also, someone finally teach this boy the definition of demisexual, please.

“Don’t say stupid things.”

“Stop me,” Neil returned. He buried his hands in Andrew’s hair and tugged him in for a kiss.

Happy to report the gays are back at it again.

Nothing like some fun backseat fondling before a big game, because sooner than thought they’ve arrived at Binghamton and their asses are in for a fun game of Orange Spotsball.

Did I say fun? I mean fucking stressful.

Almost-cards left and right, balls thrown in unholy places, all remaining chill has fucking evaporated.

But as always, when Sportsball Times get tough, there is one thing we can count on:

Andrew’s willingness to do kind of everything if Neil asks nicely.

“I’m asking you to help us,” Neil said. “Will you?”

Andrew considered it for a moment. “Not for free.”

“Anything,” Neil promised, and stepped back to take his place in line again.

Neil didn’t exactly know what he’d gotten himself into, but he honestly didn’t care, because Andrew delivered exactly what Neil wanted him to.

Which, in this case, means trashtalking every opposite player that comes close to his goal and fiercely fending off Exy balls as if they’re straight thoughts.

HEEEELL YEAH.

Also, I’m totally sure this promise won’t come back to haunt us ever again.

With Andrew kicking some major Bearcat butt in the back and Neil and Kevin fucking shit up in the front as per usual, the Foxes reign home a glorious close win! Celebration all around!

Girl dancing gif

And I’m sure there is exactly nothing at all that can go wrong now.

Neil was halfway to the door when his phone hummed (…) He didn’t recognize the phone number, but he didn’t have to. He knew that 443 area code.

Baltimore was calling.

Well, tits.

“Hello?”

“Hello, Junior. Do you remember me?”

Neil’s heart lurched to a sick halt. (…) It was Lola Malcolm, one of his father’s closest people.

LOLA.

I’ve heard that name before. I swear to fuck I’ve heard that name before. Was she mentioned already? Did I just read it somewhere on tumblr? Whatever it is, I know that she’s not fucking fun.

We’re in deep, deep shit, people.

“Are you listening? It is time to go. If you make this difficult for us, you will regret it for the rest of your very short life.”

Hell fucking no, lady. You can take that dramatic ass attitude and stick it right up your ugly butt.

Neil agrees with me:

Fast on the heels of fright was an irrational and wild anger. He was halfway of winning Andrew’s trust, a weekend from his first vacation, and one month from semi-finals. There were only four matches left in championships. Neil was so close to everything he wanted and Lola was here to steal it away.

“Put a hand on me and you’ll regret it,” Neil said.

HELL YEAH.

Fuck this, fuck all of it, she is not getting us this easily.

We came so close, so close, and we are not here to have this taken away.

“[Your father] is in Baltimore,” she corrected him. “His parole hearing was on your birthday. (…) We can’t kill [the Foxes], but we can hurt them. You’ll see.” (…)

Jackson Plank was in the locker room with his team. A second later Romero Malcolm stepped into view in a similar [security guard] getup.

… Maybe we are here to have this taken away.

Hey, remember how literally a few pages earlier Neil said he wouldn’t save the Foxes, only himself, in an apocalypse scenario?

I’d like to call heartfelt bullshit on that.

The five feet between Neil and his team could have been five thousand miles. Looking at them all, Neil was as sad as he was proud. (…) He was sorry to leave them with all of his lies, sorry they’d have to get the truth from Kevin after the fact. They were all right here with him still but he missed them with a ferocity that threatened to turn him inside-out.

Also known as: The moment literal tears started to form in the corners of my eyes.

I say “omg I’m crying” a lot, but I very rarely shed actual tears. This was a moment that came close.

The last moment Neil gets to look at his team before being literally kidnapped, the moment he loves them more than ever, ever before, and they all have absolutely no idea what’s about to happen.

And it gets worse.

Only Andrew saw the strain in Neil’s mask. (…)

“Thank you,” Neil finally said. He couldn’t say he meant thanks for all of it: the keys, the trust, the honesty, and the kisses. Hopefully Andrew would figure it out eventually. “You were amazing.”

I’m so emotional. I’m so, so goddamn emotional. I can’t handle this.

I feel like this is as close to a love confession as we’re ever gonna get, and I’m not handling anything right now.

Deep breaths, Nicki. Deep breaths.

(Disclaimer: I’m not actually expecting Neil to die in Baltimore. I know this book has five more chapters and I know Nora is not killing off her protagonist, come on. But I am expecting some awful, awful shit to go down, like “way worse than the Raven’s Nest” shit, like “changes the game forever” shit, like just some majorly fucked up shit that I am very much not here for. And so let me treasure those last moments – not because we won’t come back, but because we won’t come back the same way we’re leaving right now.)

And with that, we’re off – kidnapped away in a whirlwind of fan riots outside, handcuffed and chained to the inside of a car, zooming along the highway off to god knows where, and now comes the moment where I understood why y’all were warning me about this chapter.

Aside from beginning to cut up his fucking hand as soon as they get in the car (really, what the fuck is it with this mob and knives), Lola has certain opinions about Neil’s facial tramp stamp.

“I can’t take you before your father with such a stain on your face. Rome?” (…)

Soon enough the dashboard cigarette lighter popped free of its lock with a metallic cling.

WHAT THE FUCK.

WHAT THE ABSOLUTE FUCK.

And with that – the bitch burns Neil’s tattoo off.

SHE BURNS.

NEIL’S.

TATTOO.

OFF.

And not enough with that, she also presses her knife into his other cheek so he can’t draw back without literally cutting himself open.

What the absolute everloving shit. I literally sat shellshocked for a good ten seconds that that.

But oh, my friends, it gets worse – because apparently they also gotta question Neil about the whereabouts of his dear mom, and “she’s dead” of course isn’t a satisfying answer.

And when they’re done with his mom, they move on to questions about the Foxes.

And when they’re done with his face, they move on to his arms.

I will never, never be able to look at a car cigarette lighter the same way again.

He didn’t want to think about this, didn’t want to feel this, so he thought about thr Foxes instead. He clung tight to the memory of their unhesitating friendship and their smiles. (…) The memories made him weak with grief and loss, but they made him stronger, too. He’d come to the Foxhole Court every inch a lie, but his friends made him into someone real.

More wet eyes. Such wet fucking eyes over here right now.

I’M NOT HANDLING THIS.

STOP IT.

He’d hit the end of his rope before he wanted to and he hadn’t accomplished everything he’d hoped to this year, but he had done more with his life than he’d ever thought possible. That had to be enough. He traced the outline of a key into his bloody, burnt palm with a shaky finger, closed his eyes, and wished Neil Josten goodbye.

Oh my god.

Nathaniel Wesninski let the last few miles fly by unnoticed.

OH MY GOD.

This is both super painful and super genius and I am FUCKING SHOOK.

STRONG YELLING, YOU GUYS.

The worst injuries were the ones on his face, but the mess Lola made of his hands was the most inconvenient. It’d be hard to fight back when even the slightest twitch of his fingers made his hands ache.

Oh yeah, also by now we’re back to being Human Punching Bag Neil Josten.

Well. It’s rather Human Punching Bag Nathaniel Wesninski now, right?

Nathaniel closed his eyes against the pitch black that threatened to swallow him whole. Lola smiled against his cheek and bit at his burns.

Y’all for real what the fuck is wrong with this woman.

Petition for her to decease right this very second, thank you.

And after that, Lola chloroforms him and drags him into to the house of his father, a literal Abusive People-Butchering Mob Head.

You guys. You guys. We’re in completely new uncharted waters now, and I have no idea what the hell is about to happen.

I both don’t want this to continue and really, really can’t fucking wait for this to continue.

If you like what I do here and you want to help me through the heartbreak of this chapter, why not buy me a coffee? Every lil bit helps, getting me through uni and all that jazz. Thanks so much!

#tfc #aftg #the foxhole court #all for the game #andreil #tkm #the king's men #nicki reads tfc #TWO UPDATES IN THREE DAYS #AREN'T YALL IN LUCK #don't get used to it this is me boosting ahead bc I'll be busy out of my head till next week aha ha ha #hope you like!!!#come cry in my inbox if ya wanna

140 notes · View notes

newyorkprelawland-blog · 3 years

Text

College Athlete To College Millionaire Athlete

By Nibras Islam, Binghamton University Class of 2022

September 12, 2021

The commissioner of the National Collegiate Athletic Association (NCAA) earns between $4-5 million, while the commissioners of the top conferences make about $2-3 million. Some college athletic directors make over $1 million annually, while Division I football program coaches can make as much as $11 million, with their assistants earning about $2.5 million annually. Division I programs also earn more revenue from regular-season games due to the viewers attracted. Some television contracts, such as March Madness, are worth as much as $1.1 billion. The NCAA players, the stars and lifeblood of the industry, earn nothing. In fact, they are prohibited from profiting off their hard work and talents.

The issue of athletes finally being allowed to profit off their name, image, and likeness comes after a long and heated battle that the NCAA had long tried to avoid. Under the clause that college athletes were to be preserved as “amateurs” and NCAA did not intend to compensate as such. Athletes would be subjected to high penalties for accepting any form of gifts or presents, and these punishments ranged anywhere from fines and indefinite suspensions, to losing eligibility altogether. The NCAA president Mark Emmert has long upheld that there should not be blurred lines between professional and collegiate sports, and that college sports would die if athletes were paid. They argue that compensation would draw away from the competitive nature, and the high ratings from consumers reflect a genuine love of collegiate sports games, not originating from financial motives. While this new era of name, image, and likeness certainly has yet to fully unfurl, it certainly comes as a welcome to many.

The case comes subsequent to another NCAA court defeat in June, NCAA vs. Alston which concerns the jurisdiction of the NCAA in restricting and limiting education-related benefits granted to student-athletes. The case was against the NCAA standing rule that capped the amount of scholarship funding schools could offer to student athletes. The former group of athletes that sued had done so on the grounds that the limitation violated antitrust laws designed to promote competition. The 9-0 decision was rendered by the Supreme court in favor of the group, with Justice Neil Gorsuch delivering the majority opinion stating:

"To the extent the NCAA means to propose a sort of judicially ordained immunity from the terms of the Sherman Act for its restraints of trade- that we should overlook its restrictions because they happen to fall at the intersection of higher education, sports, and money- we cannot agree."

Justice Brett Kavanagh also delivered a concurring opinion, stating impactful words such as “The NCAA is not above the law,” and that the decision "marks an important and overdue course correction" and poses "serious questions" about the NCAA's existing compensation rule. He further tore into the corporation by delivering what would seem to indicate that the Supreme Court would align with those arguing in favor of compensation with athletes. He states:

“But the student athletes who generate the revenues, many of whom are African American and from lower-income backgrounds, end up with little or nothing. Nowhere else in America can businesses get away with agreeing not to pay their workers a fair market rate on the theory that their product is defined by not paying their workers a fair market rate. And under ordinary principles of antitrust law, it is not evident why college sports should be any different."

The result of the decision meant that schools would now be allowed to entice student-athletes to their schools with incentives that they could not have before, such as scholarships, internships, foreign study programs, computers, and other benefits. By the time of the decision, about twelve states had already passed legislation that student athletes should be allowed to be compensated for their name, image, and likeness to enact shortly, and congress was on the verge of deliberating on the matter as well. While the issue of education related benefits was separate from the issue of compensation of the athletes, the 9-0 defeat in the Supreme Court and imminent further pending legal battles surely seemed to be a proactive measure and had some part in the NCAA deciding to allow for athletes to be compensated.

Nonetheless, the reversal rendered on behalf of the NCAA board of governors is relatively new, and cause for conflicting discourse over what is deemed permitted in this uncharted territory of college sports. There are existing laws in different states, but they generally seem to vary, such as the “Fair Pay to Play” Act in California, or the Student-Athlete Equity act in North Carolina. The general guidelines seem to dissuade getting sponsored by bar-like settings that promote gambling, tobacco, alcohol, adult entertainment, or anything that would be deemed questionable by a school’s morals and desire for association. University of Louisville banned its athletes from signing with Barstool Sports, which reportedly already has 150, 000 athletes signed. Other guidelines include not being directly compensated for athletic performance and understanding of the athlete to be fully aware of what is expected in return for compensation, which could be grounds for trouble. Some school officials even fear for the athlete’s personal safety, such as Professor and CEO of the Global Sport Institute at Arizona State University-Tempe, Kenneth L. Shropshire, who states that students should investigate their university athletics department resources, seeking active conversations with their university compliance officer, state guidelines, and even attorneys, accountants, and personal advisers. At Nebraska, the school has taken steps as far as launching an educational support program to combat the pitfalls of navigating the athlete marketplace. Due to the predatory nature of agencies and companies trying to exploit many athletes in the professional world, many are fearful that susceptible and unwary college students may also fall victim.

The name, image, and likeness era already has had profound effects, and not just for athlete’s personal banking accounts. For eons, the NCAA has held a monopoly in college sports, and even the universities had the leverage of advertising and marketing, attracting future talent in perpetuity. With these reversals, the power balance shifts and athletes can utilize their hard work that has led them to that point, as well as gain something monetarily to show for their grueling student-athlete schedules. They would be able to monetize their social media posts, engage in sponsorship ads, and profit from merchandise, memorabilia, and autographs. Even lesser talented athletes may be able to leverage their social media presence to attract further recognition from big brands that recognize the value and importance of personal branding. By utilizing their social media platforms to attract engagement, they possess marketability and net worth value, always a crucial factor when trying to make one’s institution more lucrative. UCLA gymnast Katelyn Ohashi, who went viral for one of her floor routines, could have had a small fortune. Athletes such as Zion Williamson, with his viral high school and college basketball mixtapes, could have developed their brand much earlier than they had already set out to do in their assured claim to fame. One’s personal brand and likeness is arguably the most priceless item one possesses. That is the utmost essence of our personal intellectual property; the fiber of who we individually are as a human-being.

It is crucial that we help protect athletes, given how much they sacrifice their bodies for entertainment and monetary value as with any other nationally broadcasted sports, let alone home to two of the top money-making series in college football and basketball. Given how many athletes pursue athletics to combat socioeconomic difficulties, it is absurd to think that a multi-billion-dollar industry, $8.8 billion in television deals generating in over $1.1 billion in revenue to be exact, somehow has the audacity to ensure regulations that its athletes are prohibited from something as simple as obtaining a new laptop to engage in their educational curriculum, resources which they may have not had previously. Over 19 states have enacted or are in the process of passing in the coming years, laws regarding NIL. Furthermore, there is a pending lawsuit of NCAA vs. House, in which U.S. District Judge Claudia Wilken denied the NCAA and its Power 5 Conferences motion to dismiss the suit regarding four players who had been denied pay for appearing in television broadcasts. These may be the first in a string of many defeats for the National Collegiate Athletic Association and exposing the corporations’ violations of antitrust principles and regulations.

This new era also stems into further issues, such as the gender wage imbalance in sports or international student-athlete eligibility, or whether high school NIL eligibility will become a subsequent prominent issue, such as in the case of Texas high school senior Quinn Ewers forgoing his senior year of high school due to Texas’s high school NIL ban. Not to mention, the ever-changing progression of intellectual property technology and regulation that comes with it, such as whether athletes will be able to utilize their school’s intellectual property unequivocally in their financial ventures, or regarding cryptocurrency and whether athletes will be able to profit off non-fungible tokens (NFTs). Nonetheless, the era of name image and likeness is revolutionary in a plethora of remarkable ways, and unprecedented in the existence of collegiate sports.

______________________________________________________________

Nibras Islam is currently an undergraduate senior studying Philosophy, Politics, and Law at Binghamton University with a minor in economics. He hopes to seek admission into law school for the Fall 2022 class. He is a part of the mock trial team and is a Licensed Real Estate Agent at a student-housing oriented brokerage. His hobbies and passions include fashion, music, basketball, and football.

______________________________________________________________

https://sites.law.berkeley.edu/thenetwork/2021/04/06/the-future-of-the-ncaas-business-model-is-in-jeopardy/

https://www.boston.com/sports/college-sports/2021/07/01/ncaa-paying-athletes-rules/

https://optimumsportsconsulting.substack.com/p/nil-newsletter-10-thursday-august?utm_campaign=post&utm_medium=email&utm_source=copy

https://www.sportico.com/law/analysis/2021/house-v-ncaa-legal-primer-1234632887/

https://www.supremecourt.gov/opinions/20pdf/20-512_gfbh.pdf

https://www.collegeandprosportslaw.com/uncategorized/the-hits-keep-coming-ncaa-loses-another-name-image-and-likeness-court-decision/

https://collegerowcoach.org/name-image-and-likeness/

https://www.forbes.com/sites/michaelrueda/2021/02/11/why-college-athletes-must-prepare-for-the-name-image-and-likeness-era/?sh=46a2ad6e2634

https://unafraidshow.com/ncaa-pay-college-athletes-name-image-likeness/

https://www.usnews.com/education/best-colleges/articles/name-image-likeness-what-college-athletes-should-know-about-ncaa-rules

0 notes