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knox-knocks · 5 years

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A Story Told By Storms and Rain

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Andrew couldn’t see anything outside his bedroom window. The sky outside was too dark, the rain coming down too heavy. Another crack of lightning lit up his room, allowing a brief second where Andrew could see the little space he was allowed; the messy bedsheets, the broken crayons hidden under the small dresser across from him, the battered book he had borrowed from the library last week.

He’d only been at this foster house for a couple months, and even at eight years old Andrew was old enough to know that this house wouldn’t last, either. He didn’t want it to, anyway. It wasn’t as bad here as it was at the last house, at least in this one no one ever sneaked into his room after dark.

Another low rumble of thunder shook the house. Andrew hunched farther under his blankets and squeezed his eyes shut. He hated rain, the dark it brought with. He hated that he couldn’t leave the house when it was wet and muddy outside, lest he tracked the dirt inside and didn’t get it cleaned up before his foster father came home. But most of all, he hated the thunder, the way it shook the walls and set Andrew’s teeth on edge.

Lightning and rain, Andrew could handle. Thunder put him too much on edge.

Andrew considered switching the light on and banishing the shadows from his room for good, but he couldn’t risk his foster father seeing it and getting mad, the old bruises hidden underneath Andrew’s shirt were still healing. Mottled purple and blue, it would be better to wait the storm out by himself in the dark.

Over the pounding of rain on the roof above him, Andrew thought he heard the floor in front of his door creak. His eyes snapped open and he froze, feeling the air drop ten degrees cooler. Andrew was sure if he dared to breathe, his breath would come out in a puffy white cloud before him. He stayed like that for minutes, not moving, not even breathing, listening for the sound of footsteps behind him or the creak of the doorknob turning, but it never came.

When Andrew was finally able to draw air into his lungs again, he turned over to face the door, shifting so the sheets wouldn’t get tangled around his legs. He scooted back, not taking his eyes off the door, and pressed his back to the wall, the window above him leaching any warmth that the blankets could provide.

Lightning flashed and the thunder rolled. Andrew wouldn’t be sleeping tonight.

The rain beat a violent rhythm on the walls of the bathroom, doing nothing to help the pounding in Andrew’s temples. It didn’t often rain in Oakland, California, but when it did, it stormed.

Andrew spotted the angry, gray storm clouds in the distance while on his walk back home from school that afternoon. Large and foreboding, the clouds made a thread of anxiety wiggle its way inside Andrew’s chest, making him feel all jittery and shaky. He hated when it stormed. Cass was outside pulling the laundry from the clothes line to be taken inside when she saw Andrew approaching. She told him what AJ already knew: a storm was heading their way.

Now, he was huddled inside the Spears’ guest bathroom, arms hugging knees and back pressing into the cold porcelain of the bathtub. If he could help it, Andrew wouldn’t leave the sanctuary he carved out in the bathroom until the storm was over, or until Andrew could go to school the next morning.

He saw how Drake kept looking at him all throughout dinner, how his slick smile was somehow made worse by the drizzle of rain starting outside. How perfect, Andrew thought bitterly, a day all alone with my foster brother while the storm rages outside. How cozy.

Andrew’s stomach turned. He felt his headache get worse. He couldn’t remember the last time he slept without nightmares plaguing his dreams, the last time he was even able to relax in his own skin. The rain and thunder were louder in the bathroom, but Andrew would rather deal with that then face the monster waiting for him on the other side of the locked door.

Rubbing his hands up and down his arms, Andrew pretended nothing outside his bathroom existed. Everything that made up the universe was the bathtub digging into his back, the toilet and the sink, the ugly brown carpets Cass insisted on getting. He was alone in this world, and that’s exactly how Andrew wanted it.

Andrew wished he at least brought a blanket, but after he was done clearing his plate of spaghetti after dinner, he went straight to the bathroom and locked the door before anyone could even follow him upstairs. He hadn’t thought to keep a blanket and pillow in here. It didn’t matter though; here, he was safe. Here, he was alone. Here, no one could hurt Andrew but himself.

In the universe he made up inside his head, the box Andrew had hidden underneath the sink didn’t exist, either. Neither did rain.

Andrew couldn’t see the rain from his room in the detention center. He knew it was raining, though, the other boys – the ones that were allowed to go outside for a couple hours every day – wouldn’t shut up about it. That, and Andrew’s scars always ached when it rained.

The handcuffs were a little over the top, Andrew thought as two of the guards took him to the room where he’d be able to meet his twin brother for the first time. Aaron Minyard. His brother. His twin. Separated a few days after birth, one twin for foster care and the other to stay with Mommy Dearest.

Andrew had seen Aaron before, but he never got to meet him, not with their nosy uncle in the room. This time, no one would be in the room except for Andrew, Aaron, and the two guards stationed by the door that didn’t give a shit anyway.

Andrew was the first one in the room where he was supposed to meet Aaron. There was a table and two chairs seated across from each other. Only one chair was placed in front of the pair of handcuffs fastened to the metal table. Andrew took the hint and sat in that seat. One of the guards uncuffed him and told him to put his wrists in the ones on the table. Andrew complied and zoned out as he was cuffed back to the table. Now he just needed to wait with nothing but the dull patter of rain he could just hear outside to keep him company.

Aaron arrived a few minutes later, escorted by another guard. His shoulders were spattered with raindrops and his hair, the same color as Andrew’s, was plastered to his forehead. Andrew watched with interest as Aaron flinched away from the guard when he moved to quickly to close the door. His face was covered with bruises again, but they weren’t the same ones from last time. No, these ones were fresh and dark purple. Something that almost felt like anger stirred in Andrew’ s chest, the first thing he’d felt in a long time. Someone was hurting his brother and Andrew really didn’t appreciate it.

When Aaron was seated, he gave Andrew a shaky smile which Andrew didn’t return. He got straight to business. His voice even, leaving no room for argument, he said, “Who gave you those bruises?”

Aaron startled, his eyes widening and hands twisting nervously over the other. “What? Uh, no one. I tripped and fell on the curb.”

Andrew knew it was bullshit. Aaron was a terrible liar and that was the same excuse he used two weeks ago, the first time Andrew asked. He leveled a look at his brother, he would get information out of him one way or another. Aaron shifted underneath Andrew’s scrutinizing stare.

“Don’t lie to me,” Andrew warned. He didn’t like liars, hated that his brother was one of them. He wondered if Aaron could keep a promise better than he could lie and thought about making a deal with him when he was out of juvie.

“I’m not,” Aaron said, his voice barely above a whisper. Andrew wondered if Aaron knew that he was in here because of Aaron, that Aaron only had to give him a name and Andrew would make sure that whoever was hurting him would never be able to lay a hand on him again.

They didn’t talk about much else, that first meeting. Aaron tentatively broached topics while Andrew rebuffed him. After the hour was up, Aaron was escorted out of the room by one of the guards while the other let Andrew out of his handcuffs. Aaron looked back one more time as the guard led him out to the rain, but Andrew didn’t bother returning it.

Andrew had a plan. He had a reason to leave this facility and reunite with his brother. He was going to make sure no one ever touched Aaron ever again. As Andrew was led back to his room, the storm inside his chest raged.

The living room was dark and cold by the time Andrew made his way downstairs. Aaron was in his room, either sleeping soundly in his bed or working studiously at his desk. Nicky wouldn’t be back from his shift at Eden’s Twilight for a couple more hours. Andrew was alone in the living room.

It was raining again. It rained a lot more in South Carolina than it did in California, Andrew noted irately. Right now, the storm outside was shaking the window panes with the force of the wind and rain. Every couple minutes, lightning struck and thunder soon followed. Andrew just wanted some peace and quiet.

The bruises on his knuckles had long since faded. Weeks after the attack, Nicky’s face and ribs were pretty much healed. As soon as he was out of the hospital, he was back working the night shift at Eden’s. They couldn’t afford for him to miss anymore shifts, not after a week staying in the hospital. Even if Erik did take care of the medical bills, the water and heating still needed to be paid for. Andrew and Aaron’s jobs as dishwashers at Eden’s just weren’t enough to cover it.

Andrew didn’t regret beating up those bastards outside the club. He didn’t care that he nearly killed the four of them when he was smashing their faces into the concrete and he didn’t care now. They deserved it. Brought it upon themselves, really, when they thought they could touch his cousin. He would do it again if he needed to, even if next time it landed him in jail.

He got off easy, this time. Andrew wasn’t grateful he was ordered to be put through intense therapy and medication for his violence instead of going straight to prison, but he could admit that it would have been hard to protect his family behind bars.

He hated the drugs, though. Hated the constant high it forced him to be on, hated how he was never in control, never able to relax, to think, breathe. The drugs were supposed to soothe his violent tendencies, make Andrew safe to be around, but all they did was smother him, strip him of everything and put a smile on his face. Happy pills, Nicky had called them. But Nicky was wrong, the pills didn’t make Andrew happy, it made him feel empty and carved out inside. But that wasn’t the pills, was it?

When he was sleeping was the only time Andrew was allowed to be off of his medication. With them, sleep was impossible. Without them, he was a danger to society. Night time was the only time Andrew was able to find some quiet away from the constant buzzing in his skull brought about by his medication. Night time, once Andrew’s waking nightmare, was now his only solace.

But his quiet was ruined by the storm outside. He wasn’t mad, that the drip, drip, drip of rain against the windows was interrupting the only time Andrew had to himself. He didn’t feel much of anything. He simply acknowledged the rain and the fact that it displeased him. That was it. Andrew wasn’t sure he was capable of more. He didn’t really care.

Drip, drip, drip went the rain while Andrew stared at the wall and felt nothing.

Neil Josten was a nuisance. He really couldn’t stay out of people’s business, could he?

Andrew stared out the window at all the planes waiting outside and the sheets of rain coming down from the darkened sky, wishing Neil had a mute button. He didn’t want to listen to Neil’s statistic about how many people died in a place crash every year, and Andrew was sure that percentage was raised when an airplane flew through a storm like the one outside.

“What was his name?” Andrew asked, just to shut Neil up. When Neil frowned, obviously not following Andrew’s line of thought, Andrew added, “Your father. What was his name?”

Neil’s expression shuddered and for a second Andrew thought he would have a panic attack right there in the middle of the airport. He had to answer though, it was Andrew’s turn in the game. Andrew watched the line of Neil’s throat out of the corner of his eye as he swallowed his anxiety.

Glancing around to make sure nobody was listening, Neil leaned in close and said at last, “Nathan. His name was Nathan.”

“You don’t look like a Nathan,” Andrew said, taking in the shock of auburn hair, the blue eyes the color of a summer sky, and the black number 4 on his left cheek bone.

“I’m not,” Neil said quietly, his voice strained. “I’m Nathaniel.”

Andrew flicked his gaze around his face, more just to look then to search for Nathaniel in Neil’s features. The admission had obviously spooked him, evident from the twitchiness in his hands and the quick glances he kept making toward all the exits. It didn’t take long for Andrew to get bored and look back out the window.

The rain wasn’t getting any lighter. Andrew wondered if their plane would crash in this weather, he wondered if he would survive it. He wondered if he wanted to. Andrew decided it was at least worth it to stick around a bit longer, if only to see what else Neil came up with. And he promised his brother he would see through to graduation to protect him, even if Aaron never kept up his end of the bargain.

Thinking of his deal with Aaron and Aaron’s tendency to sneak around with that cheerleader like Andrew didn’t know put a bitter taste in his mouth. Fuck Kevin and fuck Exy, Andrew thought as he pulled a chocolate bar from his pocket. He took a few bites, breaking off pieces with his fingers to make them smaller and easier to eat, before Wymack called them to board the plane.

Andrew followed his teammates onto the plane, keeping his face blank and bored as the rain attacked them from all sides of the boarding tunnel. A rumble of thunder almost made Andrew pause, but he could feel Neil’s annoyingly keen gaze on the side of his face so he kept his feet moving.

Andrew hated the rain, hated airplanes, and hated feeling like he’s being turned inside out, all his thought and secrets strewn out across the table to be examined. He hated Neil Josten.

Raindrops pattered against the dorm room window, the drops falling gently against the glass and sliding off to pool on the windowsill. Andrew watched the pattern of light play across the face of the man lying beside him, the abstract shadows from the scars and the freckles made visible across his nose. Neil was awake, but his eyes were still closed, savoring the last few moments of sleep before he got up for his morning run.

Andrew dragged his eyes from the whorl of burn scars on Neil’s cheek to the mess of auburn curls scattered across the white pillow he had stolen from Andrew. Deciding he couldn’t stand not touching Neil anymore, Andrew ran his fingers through his sleep-rumpled hair, prompting Neil to blink open his eyes and let Andrew finally get a peak of his blue, blue eyes.

A slow smile spread across Neil’s face. Andrew had never gotten over the way Neil always seemed to brighten when he saw Andrew, not even after three years. Andrew wasn’t sure if he would ever get used to it, or if he even wanted to. He couldn’t bring himself to hate it.

“Morning,” Neil mumbled, stifling a yawn with the pillow tucked under his cheek.

“Staring,” Andrew replied instead of returning a greeting. Neil hummed and rubbed the last of the drowsiness from his eyes.

When Neil started to get up to pull on a shirt and his running shoes, Andrew wrapped light fingers around his wrist and pulled him back. Neil laughed as he stumbled, falling over Andrew. Andrew didn’t mind the close proximately, not when it was so warm, not when it was Neil.

“I need to go on my run,” Neil said, not bothering to stifle his grin.

“It’s Saturday. No practice or classes,” Andrew grunted. Andrew Minyard didn’t pout, he was just cold and didn’t want Neil to take all of his warmth out the door with him. That was it.

“I still go on a run on Saturday mornings, too,” Neil reasoned, making a move to get back up.

Andrew grabbed the strings of his sweatpants to stop him this time. “It’s raining, Neil. If you go out now, you’ll catch a cold and then I’ll have to listen to you bitch about not being able to go to practice. It’d be better for us all if you just stayed inside today.”

Neil had the audacity to look confused. “The rain’s never stopped me before.”

Andrew sighed. He really had to spell it out for him, didn’t he? He gave a sharp tug on the string of Neil’s sweatpants and waited for the realization to dawn on his face. Finally, he got it and returned to Andrew’s side on the bed.

Andrew traced Neil’s face with his fingers, grateful for the heat Neil provided. They were practically pressed against each other, they had to be when the mattress of the twin bed was so small. Not that either one of them complained.

“If you wanted a lazy day in bed you should have just said so,” Neil teased, his tongue sticking out between his teeth.

“You’re an idiot,” Andrew replied, leaning in to place slow kisses to Neil’s lips.

Maybe the rain wasn’t so bad today, after all.

#tfc #aftg #the foxhole court #all for the game #andreil #andrew minyard #neil josten #tfcfic #one-shot #mine

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