Chapter Text
Epilogue
***
He knelt on the grimy hotel room carpet across from Andrew, surrounded by agents who wanted nothing but information, surrounded by teammates who wanted nothing but his safety.
Because they cared.
Andrew’s face was bruised, his left eye bloodshot and red.
“All that time fighting, and you never learned to duck?” Neil choked out. Words were still clogging in his throat, everything was still fuzzy and wrong.
The memory flickered and choked out of existence.
He was in Baltimore buried in a basement he’d never wanted to see again, Lola sitting on his ankles, his father pinning him down, a razor sharp blade pressed against the hollow of his throat, nowhere to run.
Neil tried to shake his head and that one greyed then snuffed out too. Now he was standing on a beach in California, watching the car burn, scratching her off his hands, the dried blood flaking down to sand.
He was at Evermore with Kevin, he was on a roof with Andrew, he was in a parking lot with Dan, he was in a gas station with Aaron, he was in a park with Nicky, he was in the snow with Allison, he was at a boxing gym with Matt, he was in a car with Renee.
He blinked and there were eight Foxes, staring him down and telling him not to leave.
What if this wasn’t real?
“Earth to Neil,” Andrew said, snapping fingers in front of his eyes. “It’s real.”
“Did I...say…”
“Yes,” Andrew said. “You did.”
Neil binked and there was Andrew, leaning over him, helmet clenched in one hand, unbruised face staring down at him, anger in his eyes. Wincing, Neil stretched his fingers out, feeling the hard stadium floor beneath him.. His eyes flickered up to the ceiling of the Foxhole Court. Minutes passed, or maybe hours, or maybe years. “What…”
“Fucking, Day,” Andrew muttered. “Fucked up a pass and it hit you in the head.”
“Do you remember the roof?” Neil asked. “Do you remember me?” He tried to sit up, but Andrew pushed him back down again.
“If you need Abby, tell me right now. Don’t fuck around with your I’m fine bullshit.”
He blinked and everyone was standing over him, Dan, and Allison, and Nicky, and Matt. Now Kevin. Now Renee. Now Aaron. “I think…” he swallowed down blood. They were all watching him. His head was killing him. “I’m alright,” he said, pushing himself up. This time, Andrew let him.
“You should see Abby,” Kevin ordered. “Head injuries are serious.”
Andrew levelled Kevin with a death glare, and Kevin took a step back. “I mean, I’m sorry.”
Neil swallowed more blood, then stood up and leaned against the side of the court.
“Glad you’re okay, dude,” Matt said, leaning in and giving Neil a high five.
Wymack was striding towards them now, so it had only been a second, not a minute, not an hour, not years, not a lifetime.
“Get back on the court,” he yelled. “This is practice, not a tea party! Not you, Neil,” he added, just as Neil grabbed his racquet again. “Go see Abby.”
“I’m–”
Andrew cocked his head, then sliced a finger across his throat.
He was Neil.
And he was surrounded by people who knew him, who cared about him, and who remembered him.
He wouldn’t be forgotten.
Okay, probably he did have a concussion, because that thought was a little too sentimental to be entirely Neil.
Also he was nauseous.
“Fine,” Neil muttered.
Andrew gave him a salute, popped his helmet back on, and stalked back to the goal.
Wymack helped Neil off the court.
Dan started giving orders, the Foxes started running the ball, and Neil smiled. “I’m fine,” he murmured as Wymack’s eyebrows rose.
He was.