#Renee: The woman doesn’t need knives

[bookburners]

Everybody is wrong actually

Neil: Bard

Andrew: Paladin

Kevin: Wizard

Renee: Monk

Aaron: Cleric

Matt: Fighter

Allison: Rouge

Dan: Paladin

Nicky: Bard

[jemej3m]

a comprehensive set of rules (p.2)

i have no control over my writing schedule. it has been completely consumed by this au. this is all of y’all’s fault. 

heavy tw: blood and gore and bodies. also, bad people talking about raping allison and using homophobic slurs.

*

July:

“Andrew,” Renee called out, rapping her knuckles on the guest bedroom gently. 

Andrew was currently living out of one, black suitcase: he’d spent half his time at different hotels and half his time at colleagues’ homes, though calling Allison a colleague was a bit of a stretch. Wymack had let him camp out in his girlfriend’s spare room, seeing as his place was apparently too small for the both of them. Dan and Matt had even let him crash on the couch between motel rooms. 

Andrew was really fucking excited to get his place back. According to Neil, his father was pulling out all stops to get rid of him, or whoever was aiding him. As far as Andrew was concerned, Neil was in more danger, but the man refused to exonerate himself from the situation. The next best thing was ensuring that Andrew was untouchable. 

“Andrew, can I come in?” 

Andrew grunted, still bent over his files in the middle of the room. He’d pushed the bed to one side to make room and was suddenly shirtless, fan pulsating in the corner. He never did great in the heat. 

“Oh,” Neil’s voice squeaked like an elementary schooler’s clarinet. “Uh - I can come back?”

Andrew squinted up at him. “The fuck are you doing here?” he got to his feet and made his way over, reaching up to tug on Neil’s hair. Definitely real. “Huh.” 

Behind Neil, Renee snorted. Andrew glared at her: she put up her hands in surrender and paced off to do something else. 

Andrew shuffled Neil into his room and shut the door, treading carefully around his work. 

“This...” Neil looked over it, carefully avoiding the many photos and files and labelled evidence bags as he walked. He was silent as he moved, unnoticeable if he wasn’t always on Andrew’s radar. 

He also looked much more presentable than the last time Andrew had seen him, which had been before Dimaccio was arrested. A button-down, much like he wore when they first went to dinner. The collar was irritatingly popped, and his trousers were properly pressed, the shoes delicately shined. He looked like a rich man’s son. 

Andrew hated it. He also hated how good it looked.

“Sit on the bed,” Andrew instructed. “I don’t need you scuffing anything up.”

“This seems like a lot more than what’s necessary,” Neil said, avoiding looking at Andrew as he tugged on a shirt. “Also a lot more than we originally discussed.”

Andrew pointed at the profile of a smiling woman, and various other men. “Williams. Reacher. Jenkins. The three of them worked tirelessly on gang violence. They completely eradicated the Terrapin family from the game. Countless Bearcats and Catamounts have been locked up by them. But as soon as they turned to the Wesninski family, they were never found again. Three different detectives. Almost three consecutive years. They deserve justice too.” 

Neil was, clearly, not expecting to have to put names and families to the bodies his father had diced and scattered. His expression had become shuttered as Andrew talked, fingers curling into tight fists, the fabric of his trousers ensnared between his whitened knuckles. 

"You’re afraid.” 

Neil looked at him, eyes blazing. “He is all I’m afraid of. I can’t just - turn that off.”

Andrew crouched down on the floor in front of him. “You’re allowed to be afraid. You have to promise me that you won’t run away because of it.”

Neil’s shoulders were curled inwards. “I don’t want to become him. I don’t -” he looked at the photos of the officers and the remnants of their bodies and the ruination caused by his father’s work. “I don’t want that. I don’t.”

“So leave it behind.”

Neil grit his teeth. “I can’t! Look at me. Look at me. You think this is my father? Parading me around at events, trying to find me a wife who can bear my child, tracking my every move? Of course it’s not. My father is someone else’s weapon, a well-enamoured thug at best. He’s a Baltimorean gangster. He’s not the one in control here.”

Andrew put his hand over Neil’s wrist and let him breathe for a moment. 

“They know that he’s fucked,” Neil continued, eyes squeezed shut. “They know they’re going to lose him. So I’m being conditioned. I’m being shaped up to replace him. You know I’ve been in New York for the past two weeks?” He shoved his hair out of his eyes. Andrew opened his palm upwards, and Neil let himself tangle their fingers. “I want to escape my fate so badly, but my family has been indentured to them for - I don’t even know. Forever, it seems like.”

“Who, Neil?” 

He let out an aggravated sigh. “Who else controls enough of the east coast to keep the fucking Butcher in check? It’s the bloody Moriyamas.” Andrew stiffened. “If you breathe that name outside this room, I’m dead. You’re dead. Everyone you ever loved will die. They’re so well protected that the crazy second son can go off and do whatever he likes, including training to be a police officer and almost killing the partner he’s given, but it doesn’t even matter. It’s hushed up within the week.” 

He held tight onto Andrew’s hand. “The best I can hope for is a negotiation. A price that I can pay off in - a decade, maybe. Possibly two. Maybe securing a new family to pass the relationship to. I don’t know.” 

“Then that’s what you do,” Andrew vowed. “We deal with the monster under the bed first. Then the basement that lets them out. Don’t run,” Andrew insisted, his hand having worked its way up Neil’s arm to grip the back of his neck. “Don’t hide. You can’t afford to, not now.”

Neil rested their foreheads together. “I’ll try.”

Andrew’s thumb brushed circles under Neil’s jaw. “That’s all I ask.”

*

Breaking news: Nathan Wesninski being brought to court for multiple homicides, including Baltimore police officers and Mary Hatford, his wife...initially being assessed for money laundering and tax evasion, Wesninski is now being persecuted for multiple acts of violence, mutilation and extortion. Police officers under Captain David Wymack have collated resources and new-found evidence and will attempt to put Wesninski behind bars permanently.

*

August: 

Andrew’s heart was pounding. They’d tapped into comms just over an hour ago, received the corresponding telephone data and locations, and now they were paging the block. 

It was eerily quiet, and too dark for a suburban area. The cul-de-sac had no streetlights and all the houses were either empty, with for sale! signs posted on their laws, or all the blinds were drawn closed. It was only nine in the evening. 

Andrew took out his gun as they approached the house. Renee was at his shoulder. 

The house in question was two-storey, seemingly empty, the garage locked shut. The gardens were immaculately kept, the painted finish on the house brand new. God knows what was happening within: Andrew hoped that whatever mess had been made within wasn’t irreparable. 

Andrew’s radio cackled. “How do you want to go about this, Minyard?” 

Andrew cracked his knuckles and fished out his lock picks from his back pocket as he radioed back. “Silent entry. I’m going to unlock the door, and only our squad heads in. Everyone else surround the premises if they notice and escape.”

“Alright, sarge,” Matt said, jokingly, a few feet behind Renee. Dan must have pinched him because he immediate said “Ow!” 

Andrew and Renee crept up onto the front balcony: Andrew crouched down and worked for about two minutes till the lock had opened. Kevin had already phoned the security firm to let down the alarms, so Andrew and Renee stepped inside, unnoticed. Dan, Matt and Kevin dispersed, but Andrew always headed to the basement. 

The light was on. 

“...We should get back to Junior,” one voice said. “God knows he’s probably slipped free by now.”

“You kidding? We had him practically halfway into a coffin. Let’s just clean this up first.”

“Maybe pretty Alli’s woken up. If Junior wasn’t so fervently protective of her I’d’ve had her bent over by now.” 

“Christ, Romero." But the man was laughing. “Maybe now’s your chance.”

Disgust crawled down his spine. He glanced at Renee, just as they approached the doorway: she had her eyes closed momentarily, lips moving with a prayer. The door was left ajar. 

One, he mouthed. 

“Didn’t think boss had the guts to get rid of little Junior.”

Two, she returned. 

“Maybe he liked that bitch of a wife, after all. He could’ve had a kid with Lola and gotten rid of the pathetic faggot, but he stuck by Nathaniel anyway.”

Three, they both nodded, kicking the door wide open with his foot and grasping his gun in both hands. 

“Hands up,” he growled. “Drop whatever you’re holding.”

“Kneel,” Renee said, softly. “We will shoot you if you don’t comply.”

Neither of the men had guns. They dropped their knives to the ground and knelt down, furious. By them was a body, heavily dismembered. The hair was neither auburn nor blonde.

“Basement,” Andrew barked into his radio, training his gun on the one he recognised as Romero. His hands were limp, twitching by his sides. Andrew wanted to cut them from his body and watch him bleed. 

The other three skidded into the room, guns ready. 

“Go find them,” Renee murmured, under the cacophony of Dan and Kevin wrangling the perps to the ground, Matt kneeling by the body. “Andrew, go.” 

He nodded stiffly, falling back. Up the stairs and to the left was the door to the garage, which he kicked down. Switching the lights on, he looked to the two persons still on the floor, tied up and beaten down. 

“Andrew,” Neil gasped, covered in blood and cuffed at the wrists and ankles. Allison seemed alright, if a bit groggy, with a gag in her mouth and her hands tied behind her. 

Andrew grabbed the hedge clippers from the wall of gardening tools and broke through the handcuffs, cutting Allison’s rope bindings and tugging off her gag. 

“Perps restrained, fall in through the front,” Dan said through the radio. “Victim dead. Get a stretcher: Forensics team definitely not necessary.” 

“We can’t be found here,” Allison hissed. “We can’t be brought in.”

“Jesus Christ,” Andrew muttered, fishing the keys to his cousin’s place out of his pocket. “Fine. If you can get him on his feet,” he jerked his head to Neil, who muttered I’m fine. “Go to Nicky’s place. I’ll meet you there later. Unless you need a hospital?”

“It’s all superficial,” Neil mumbled, wincing. Andrew felt concern curl and knot in his stomach. He looked to Allison. 

“Maybe you should do a first-aid cert.”

“Maybe that’s not a half bad idea,” she grunted, hauling Neil to his feet. 

“The back should be clear of cops now,” Andrew said, cutting through the padlock on the garage door. “Get out.”

“Good to see you too, Minyard,” Allison drawled, pulling Neil along. With a wink, they were both gone. 

Andrew rubbed at his temples, giving himself only a minute of reprieve, before heading back into the fray. 

*

Nicky’s house was cold and dark. The two of them had been on a spontaneous trip around Europe for the last few months, visiting Erik’s family. Nicky wasn’t stupid: when Andrew offered him this and that, he took it without question and knew there was a reason why.

“When I get back,” he insisted over the phone. “When I get back the three of us are visiting Aaron. Got it?”

“Fine,” Andrew had grunted, hanging up on his cousin without a goodbye. 

Neil had parked himself on the couch, staring at the ceiling with square bandages across his cheeks. Bruises mottled his skin, and his hands and forearms were mummified in a similar fashion. 

“I was going to try and contact you,” Neil said, not needing to see Andrew to know who’d entered the house. “I would’ve called you.”

Andrew sat on the end of the couch as Neil drew his feet up to give him room. “Right.”

The man struggled into a seated position. “I was.” 

“Should’ve let them kill you,” Andrew muttered, glaring at the unused television. Neil snorted, swinging his legs off the couch and settling next to Andrew. 

“For what it’s worth, I’m sorry.” 

“Just - shut up.” 

For a while they sat in silence. Andrew lit up a cigarette and smoked it through to the filter. Neil seemed to lean a little closer, attracted to the scent. 

“Hey,” he murmured, when Andrew threw the stub onto the coffee table. 

Andrew turned and looked at him. His eyes were clear, purposeful. Andrew remembered their first date, their second. Cleavers and thugs and light, candle light and club lights, striping across Neil’s cheekbones like something from a painting. 

Kissing him felt - 

Normal. Right. Like coming home. Like finding - not the last piece of the puzzle, but the last edge, making a solid shape to be filled in, something clear and decisive. Andrew’s fingertips found his jaw and he felt Neil’s fingers curl in the collar of his vest. His police vest. 

It was enough to draw him to a stop, pulling back just enough for him to breathe. 

“You don’t swing,” Andrew accused, poorly hiding how winded he was.

Neil huffed, equally as breathless. “You don’t date.” 

Andrew’s teeth ground together. “You don’t date cops.” 

“And you don’t date mobsters,” Neil retorted. “What’s your point here?” 

“Yes or no?” Andrew demanded, because he needed to know. He needed to know for sure. Without a doubt, with complete surety, with perfect clarity - 

“Yes,” Neil answered. “Obviously.” 

“‘Obviously’,” Andrew parroted with a scoff. “I hate you.” 

When Neil’s lips curved up into a smile, Andrew kissed him quiet. 

*

September: 

“You know I’ve got a week off, after next week,” Andrew said, trailing his fingers over the threadbare t-shirt that Neil wore. He said ‘next week’ and not ‘Nathan’s trial’. They’d both come to an agreement that where they could avoid talking about it, they would. 

It was out of Andrew’s hands, anyway. All the evidence was with the prosecutor, and it was their job to put him behind bars. 

There was no way Nathan Wesninski was getting out, now. Not a single chance. 

Which meant there was no reason to talk about it. Or about Neil’s future inheritance of his father’s position, or Andrew’s award of recognition for his work. Which felt rather cheap, really - he was just lucky that Neil had decided to give him a second chance. 

Then again, policing was mostly luck, and a bit of charisma. Andrew was usually lacking in both, but right now, in the golden afternoon sunlight, with Neil in shorts and unkempt hair, he felt incredibly lucky. 

Neil craned his head back to look at Andrew. His new scars were bright red, but healed over at this point. “Just Chicago?” 

Andrew hummed assent, closing his eyes and pressing his nose to the crown of Neil’s head. Casual intimacy had always been - too much. Too soft, too nice, like it was covering up something sinister. Never had Andrew felt so relaxed, not even after sex, which usually resulted in Andrew grabbing his shirt, shoes, phone and wallet and leaving immediately. 

And they hadn’t had sex yet. Andrew didn’t know if Neil would ever want to have sex. That was - unsurprisingly - not the most important thing on Andrew’s list of wants and needs. 

Instead, here he was, lying on his back in Nicky’s guest bedroom. Neil was lying next to him, on his side, head cushioned on Andrew’s shoulder. And he did want this. He’d been tied up and exhausted for months: now it was all coming to its peak, the finish line right around the corner. And they were - okay. Ish. Maybe. Probably. Andrew wasn’t peeved about it. 

“Don’t die whilst I’m gone,” Andrew muttered, fingers threading through his hair. 

“I have to go to New York, anyway,” Neil said, sullen. “Might as well do it whilst you’re away.” 

“How many times are they going to pull you up there?”

“Till they’re confident I won’t screw everything up in the change-over, I guess. Or maybe it’s about the wife thing.” 

Something in Andrew’s chest twisted. He simply hummed. 

Neil shifted, propping himself up on his elbow to look at Andrew properly. “You know I’m not going to go through with it, right?”

“And if they threaten you?” Andrew reminded him. “Your life isn’t exactly yours.”

“Fuck them,” Neil said as he leaned forward, forever antagonistic. Andrew sighed: Neil paused. “No?”

“Yes,” he muttered, pulling Neil down. One hand brushed along the slither of exposed skin that revealed itself as Neil’s shirt rose up: Andrew relished in the shiver that flitted across Neil’s skin. His scarred fingers - covered in circular burns from a dashboard lighter and various scratch ridges - felt familiar and known when Andrew guided them to the back of his head. Neil was careful, as always.

Andrew had intended on asking when the hell Neil had heard about Andrew’s past, but he wasn’t sure that he wanted to know. He didn’t want to talk about it now, anyway.

Just as Neil let Andrew push his shoulder back, following him over to kiss him into the mattress, Allison’s nails tapped impatiently on the bedroom door. Andrew broke away, startled, just as Neil cursed, sitting up. 

“Yes, Allison?” Neil demanded, clearing his throat. “What is it?”

“You sound odd,” Allison remarked, door handle turning. 

“Uh - !” Neil scrambled off the bed, looking to Andrew with wild eyes. “I’m - naked! Don’t come in.”

“Right,” Allison drawled. “Should I just wait in my room for him to leave, then?”

“I hate you,” Neil complained. “What do you want?” 

“Andrew’s phone was going off in the kitchen,” Allison said, slyly. “Sounds like the prosecuting lawyer wants some of your time, Andrew. Nice of you to glide by without saying hello.”

“I’m busy,” Andrew retorted. 

Allison just laughed, strutting down the corridor with her heels tapping on the wooden floorboards. Neil crossed his arms, red-faced. 

“C’mere,” Andrew said, still sitting on the bed. 

“But Thea,” Neil tried. 

“The law can wait,” Andrew insisted, extending his hand.

The look in Neil’s eyes sent sparks flying across Andrew’s skin. 

*

“Took you long enough,” Thea Muldani said, a master of clipboards and abridged glares. She was a lawyer worth Andrew’s time, he knew that, but he also didn’t feel like putting up with Kevin’s heart-eyes or Renee’s unsubtle glances. 

Jesus Christ, he thought, slamming his bag on the table hard enough to cause everyone to jolt. “I’m here, now.” 

“Congratulations,” Thea remarked. “Don’t care. We have a problem.”

Andrew narrowed his eyes. 

“Nathan Junior’s prints are all over a tonne of this evidence. If we don’t have him accounted for, defence is going to be all over it.”

“Are you serious?” Dan demanded. “Nathaniel would’ve been 15 when Mary was murdered.” 

“Doesn’t matter. If the evidence has been tampered with, it could be rendered useless. It would be extremely helpful,” Thea said pointedly. “If people’s CI’s could come forward and testify. We have almost no witnesses, except for Andrew and Renee, who claimed that Jackson Plank and Romero Malcom were acting on orders from Nathan whilst murdering Janie Smalls, last month. Neither of them will confess to any sort of collaboration with Wesninski, and two unidentified blood sources were found in the garage.”

“That sounds like circumstantial bullshit,” Dan argued. 

“And can we prove them wrong?” Thea shot back. “No. We can’t. For all we know, it’s been Nathaniel behind all of this instead. He’s certainly old enough now.”

Andrew stood out of his chair, grabbed his things and turned to leave. 

The lawyer gave him an appraising look. “I haven’t dismissed this meeting, Minyard.”

“I don’t care,” Andrew said. “If you won’t do your job, then I suppose I’d better go and fucking do it for you.” 

“It’s Thursday,” Thea reminded him. “Case starts on Monday.”

Andrew ignored her, making sure to slam the door on the way out. 

*

Romero Malcom was a sullen man. His skin was papery thin, even only a few weeks into his prison stay. Andrew couldn’t say that he pitied him. He sat down with his cup of coffee, leaning back in his chair with his leg crossed at the ankle. Romero was locked to the interrogation table opposite, shoulders curled in, fingernails scratching against the table top. 

Trying to get a rise. It wouldn’t work. 

“Honestly, between you and your sister, you seemed like the more rational one,” Andrew said, eyebrow arched. He put his coffee down and opened up his file. “Did you think about how your lifestyle had an expiry often? Nathan had Dimaccio as his right-hand man, but kept Lola as his carefully concealed weapon. You and Plank seemed just like...more prized cannon-fodder.”

Romero’s eye twitched. 

“You know, you said something that caught my interest,” Andrew leaned forward. “You said you’d’ve fucked Nathaniel Wesninski’s friend. What was her name?”

“Allison,” he said. 

“Right. You said you’d intended to rape her.”

“No wonder you’re so hung up on it, Doe,” Romero sneered. So they’d all done their research. “Well I didn’t, did I? Not that she’s shown up. She knows Nathan’ll kill her. He’s pretty sure she’s the rat.”

“Do you think she is?” Andrew inquired. “Mind you: I know who the rat is, and you don’t.”

“I think she’s the rat.” Romero sneered. “Princess bitch won’t be loyal to nothing but herself.”

“Which was why he asked you to kill her. She’d betrayed you all.” 

“We didn’t kill her.”

“No, but you were going to. He wanted you to kill all three of them.” 

“It was probably Junior that called the cops on us,” Romero scoffed. Andrew’s jaw ticked. “Fucking brat. It was about time.”

“About time for what?”

“To get rid of him.” Romero rolled his eyes. “Not that Plank could manage that, either. Useless. But Nathan gave us the call. We were waiting for it, honestly. Killing off Junior meant there was more of an incentive to keep Nathan out of jail. Otherwise there’s no other options.”

Moriyamas, Andrew thought, but he had no interest in involving them. “So Nathan called the two of you, ordered you to get rid of Allison and Nathaniel.”

“He didn’t want them showing their faces and causing trouble.” 

“So why Janie?”

“Wrong place, wrong time,” Romero laughed. It sounded like rusted truck breaks. Andrew was very close to knocking the scalding coffee onto exposed skin. 

“Nathan probably ain’t happy,” Andrew amended. 

Romero barked out another laugh. “He’ll be livid at this point. He sent me an email on exactly what he wanted me to do to your tiny little body, Minyard. An email. Who the fuck sends emails anymore? Anyway, yeah. He’s pissed.”

Andrew stood up from the table, carefully putting his audio recorder into plain sight as he picked up his coffee. “Well, I’d say it was a pleasure, but it wasn’t.” Romero looked at the recorder, slightly sickly. “Have fun in here, Malcom. I’m sure your sister sends her regard from max.”

With that he spun on his heel, the sweet sounds of Romero’s panic putting a hop in his step all the way out of the centre. 

*

“I’ve never...” Neil chewed his lip. “Get a blood sample? That’d put me into the system.”

“And help me identify your pieces as they come floating down the river, if your father’s bosses ever learn about this,” Andrew reminded him. “If I can prove that Romero and Jackson were ordered to kill you, there won’t be any ground to stand on. Neil. Remember what I said.”

The man looked at him from an extended moment of time, evaluating and revelautating. 

“Alright,” he said, voice barely a whisper. “Okay.” 

*

October:

Andrew leant his head from side to side, letting his spine slot itself back into place. He hated everything about flying, so much so that even his cousin’s persistent chatter hadn’t been enough to distract him from his living nightmare. 

“Well!” his cousin said, somehow still animated. He and Erik had spent their time in Chicago getting over jetlagged and playing with Aaron’s new puppy, whilst Andrew spent his time watching their antics and silently drinking coffee with Aaron, save for the occasional question here and there. 

Heard you made a big bust, yeah. How’s the residency. A nightmare. Katelyn and I want a baby when it’s done, though. Interesting. You can be the Godfather. Save that for Neil. Neil? Like, the criminal guy? Don’t mention it. Andrew - I said, don’t mention it. Oh, fuck. You’re serious. Jesus Christ, okay. 

“Shall we get a cab?” Nicky inquired. 

“Neil can drop you home on the way to mine.” 

Nicky narrowed his eyes. “Neil? Like, absolute hottie Neil? Allison’s friend? The one you never called back because you’re an idiot?”

“I hate you,” Andrew insisted. 

“Oh my god!” Nicky squealed, tugging on Erik’s arm. “I didn’t know y’all were together. How long has it been? Andrew, you gotta tell me these things!” 

“On second thoughts, you should take a cab,” Andrew grunted, lugging his luggage to where he knew Neil would already be standing, waiting for them to arrive. 

Nicky’s laugh rang out like bells, just as Neil rose up his hand to wave the three of them over. 

Yeah, Andrew thought, letting Nicky gush whilst Neil looked at him like that. 

This isn’t half bad. 

*

And that’s how they got together! andrew will continually tell himself that neil inherited the syndicate after they got together, even if there was only like a month or so between their first kiss and nathan getting locked up. neil will continually tell himself that andrew was only interested in him for the case. they’re both stupid liars who are in love. 

[nekojitachan]

How to Steal a Million pt2

So, here’s another part of this story, no clue how many more (at least a few?). More Foxes appear! Yay!

Uhm, lots of bantering, very mild violence, some swearing, think that’s about it? Oh, and obvious some dubious life choices/actions here.

*******

*******          

“I mean, can you believe it?” Neil asked as he tugged on his bangs while seated on a stack of new tires in the middle of Matt’s garage while his friend worked on the Ferrari. “He keeps cackling about the damn postcards and ticket revenue and… and he’s insane!”

“Uhm, you know that those are your genes, right?” Matt’s deep voice drifted out from underneath the sports car, followed by a yelp when Neil gave his right calf a kick. “Hey! Not funny,” he complained as he scooted out from beneath the car, frowning face smeared with grease in a couple of spots and ridiculous hair covered by a bright orange bandana (also smeared with grease).

“Huh, I was thinking much the same thing,” Neil muttered as he glared at his friend. “You’re supposed to be commiserating with me, not insulting me!”

“Okay.” Matt took a deep breath as he sat up on the floor dolly thing and dabbed at the mess on his left cheek. “You’re upset that Stuart isn’t selling one of his fakes for once? I don’t get it.”

“He’s basically parading around a fake in front of thousands of people!” Neil hissed as he waved his arms about, upset that Matt wasn’t following. “What if they realize it’s not the real thing?”

“But Stuart’s really good at what he does,” Matt argued as he looked about for something.

“He’s a forger and a thief.”

“Says the guy who showed up earlier with a stolen Ferrari – I don’t think you have the strongest argument here, Red.” When Neil’s glare went up a notch, Matt held up his hands in a placating manner. “Hey, not throwing any stones, but you can toss me the rachet wrench near your left foot – you know, the thing that makes the ‘rrrrch, rrrch’ sound when you turn it?”

“I know what a rachet wrench is by now,” Neil mumbled as he picked up the thing and tossed it (lightly) at his friend. “And I stole the damn car because I’ll most likely need the money for when Stuart and I flee the country in a rush sometime within the next week – which I shouldn’t have to explain myself to the person who’s currently modifying it so it can be sold to some crime lord with an ego problem.”

“Victor’s a decent guy for a crime lord, and I don’t want to hear any bitching from a Hatford,” Matt threw back at him. “’Oooh, look who’s slumming right now’,” he called out in a high-pitched voice as his head waggled from side to side. “’Let me break out the tea and crumpets and lots of sharp knives’.”

“You’re an ass,” Neil laughed as he got up to tug the bandanna down his friend’s face, as well as to muss up his gravity-defying hair; it was then that Dan, Matt’s girlfriend, walked in on them.

“What did I tell you?” she called out as Matt wrapped his damn gorilla arms around Neil’s hips. “If you’re finally going to make a move on the boy, wait until I’m here to join in.”

“Eh?” Neil blinked at that odd statement while Matt laughed and, after giving him a smack on the ass, pushed him away so he could stand up and go give Dan a kiss – carefully, since she was dressed for a ‘day’ of work, in a fitted pant suit that hid the holstered gun and various knives on her person, as befitted her job as a well-regarded bodyguard. “How was work?”

“Horrible. I was half-tempted to shoot the whiny bastard myself, no wonder his company’s paying people to keep him alive.” Dan rolled her eyes as she unbuttoned her jacket to reveal the white shirt beneath it (and the leather straps of her holster). “Just had to keep focusing on the paycheck.”

“That’s what I love about you, always thinking ahead,” Matt said as he placed a kiss on her forehead. “Should get a nice cut from this latest job, too. Then you can take a break from assholes for a while and work on your charity cases.”

“Yeah, Renee’s already got a couple names lined up for me.” A pleased smile lit up Dan’s face, wiping away the exhaustion and bitterness from before and highlighting a beauty she rarely enhanced with makeup. “Can’t wait for a nice vacation from the bastards.”

“Well, you do live with Matt,” Neil teased, and laughed when the tall freak attempted to kick back at him.

“Such a troublemaker,” Dan remarked as she came over to tousle his hair. “And did you bring this in? I thought you were more into cons with Allison and some B&E these days, not back to stealing cars.”

“He’s convinced that Stuart’s finally done something stupid enough to bring the police down on them,” Matt explained as he sat down on the dolly. “I’m not gonna complain since I get to work on this beauty, earn some money and get in Victor’s good books.”

At Dan’s curious look, Neil sighed. “He got it in his head to allow our copy, the fake copy, of the Cellini Venus to go on display at the Kleber-Lafayette Museum.”

“What?” Dan’s dark eyes went wide and she ran her hands over her dark brown, short curls in a sign of frustration. “There was a lot of activity around the museum today, them preparing for a big event that the asshole complained about having to miss because of some other commitment.”

“Yeah, they’re having a party tonight to kick off the collection, something like that.” Neil returned to the stack of tires and pulled his right knee to his chest as he thought about the whole mess. “Usually Stuart’s sensible about things,” he thought about that statement and sighed, “somewhat sensible, but all he’s babbling about now is postcards and cuts and other nonsense. I’m ready to throttle him.”

“Sorry, sweetie.” Dan gave a gentle stroke to his hair. “If you need to crash anywhere, you know you can stay with us.”

“Thanks.” He grimaced a little as he thought about the whole mess. “I hope he gets whatever this is out of his system without us getting into too much trouble. It’s gonna suck if we have to avoid Paris from now on.”

“I’m sure it won’t be that bad,” Dan assured him. “You always tend to think the worst, too.”

Maybe because he was used to things going pear-shaped on him? Though to be honest, usually his family or his friends came through for him in the end. “Yeah, well, I remember a few close calls like the Saini con-“

“Aw, but some people would give almost anything to spend half a night trapped beneath a desk with Allison!” Matt declared from beneath the Ferrari.

“-or the Friedrich incident,” Neil finished with a scowl.

“I still don’t know how you and Renee managed to hide all those knives on your bodies and not rattle when you walked,” Dan confessed with a wince.

“We were just grateful that you did,” Matt called out.

“Well, is it too much to hope that this exhibition will end without me being stuck in a small space or knives being involved?” Neil asked as he stared at Dan with a hopeful look, only to feel the emotion die when she gazed back with pity. “Fuck.”

“Sorry, sweetie, but knowing your uncle and your luck? Get out the whetstone and be thankful you’re not claustrophobic.”

“Fuck,” Neil repeated as he reconsidered his stance on not drinking.

*******

Andrew fought the urge to tug at his bowtie for the eighth time that night and reminded himself that in another twenty-three minutes he could leave the boring as hell party; at that point, he’d already gathered enough information on how the place’s security worked, especially around a crowd.

He wasn’t that impressed with the Kleber-Lafayette Museum. Then again, he wasn’t impressed with much in life.

He ignored the interested look some woman dressed in a sparkling gold cocktail dress gave him as he snatched a glass of passible champagne from a tray full of them, and noted the unimpressed one he received from another young woman wearing an expensive as fuck Dior gown which had just been on the runway a week ago. It took his brain a moment to supply a name – Allison Reynolds, disowned heiress but still rich bitch extraordinaire, determined to live by her own rules and somehow able to get by in society despite that fact. Andrew raised his glass to her and was surprised when she arched an elegant eyebrow and raised her own in return.

After another lap of the main room (and another careful survey of the party’s attendees), Andrew stopped at his partner’s side; Kevin had undone his tie, but it had been a bit of a rough night once his old ‘friend’ had shown up. Andrew noted that there was a glass of water in Kevin’s scarred left hand and not alcohol, which meant that his friend had recovered from the shock. “Five more minutes.”

Kevin’s handsome face twisted with annoyance. “Some people enjoy being surrounded by works of art,” he said, voice rich with reproach. “The Kleber-Lafayette has quite the collection of-“

“Don’t care,” Andrew sang out as he rocked back and forth on his toes. “Seen one splattering of pastels, seen ‘em all.”

As he’d counted on, Kevin’s face grew flushed with anger. “You’re a disgrace to the profession,” he gritted out as he pinched the bridge of his nose with the fingers of his right hand.

“No I’m not, I’m the best at what I do,” Andrew reminded his partner. “And three minutes, now.”

Instead of arguing, Kevin merely shook his head and finished his water, then set the empty glass aside on the nearby small table before motioning for them to leave (one minute early, such a reprieve). They were quiet as they escaped from the boring party, at least until they reached the Jaguar F-type Andrew was renting during their stay in Paris.

He removed the jacket to his tux and the damn tie before he slid behind wheel, relieved to be done acting ‘proper’ for the night. “It’s not the worse job we’ve had, but it’s not the best, either. They seem to have somewhat paid attention to us when we gave them the security review.”

“Somewhat,” Kevin muttered as he jerked his left hand through his hair. “When are they going to learn that it’s better to spend the money on everything we recommend? Whining about extra lasers doesn’t matter if someone walks off with a Monet and their insurance fees skyrocket as a result.”

“Not our fault if they don’t listen to us,” Andrew reminded him. “Speaking about artwork, I’m going to be busy tonight.” When Kevin glanced at him, he gave a shrug as he fished out his pack of cigarettes from the center console. “Something’s bothering me about that Venus statue.”

“The Cellini one?”

“Yeah.” Andrew frowned as he lit the cigarette. “I don’t like how Josten just so happens to find all these amazing pieces of artwork, which end up in private collections and so avoid any real tests.”

“But he signed the papers which allow the statue to be tested for insurance purposes,” Kevin reminded him.

“Hmm.” It would be a big scandal if the statue was found out to be fake, though, so Andrew would rather know sooner rather than later and warn the museum if there was going to be a scandal (and earn a bonus as a result). “I wonder if he knows that, considering all the documents he signed. Anyway, we’re here, he’s here, I want to take a look at his house since I’ve always been suspicious about his collection.”

“You’re suspicious about everyone,” Kevin muttered as he slumped down in the passenger seat. “I still remember what you did to the poor woman whose job it was to clean your hotel room in Barcelona.”

“Because she didn’t obey the ‘do not disturb’ sign, and don’t change the subject,” Andrew argued. “Was I right about Zhang?” He waited for his partner to nod. “What about Bambey? Riopert? Zimmerman? Abe? I can go on all night.”

“Whatever, just don’t get caught, the French police aren’t happy with you after the whole Devine case,” Kevin just had to remind him.

“Yes, but I was right about that one, too,” Andrew said as he flicked ash out the window. It was quiet in the car as he drove them back to the hotel for a couple of minutes. “So what did the bastard say to you, hmm?” He’d seen Moriyama talk to Kevin from across the room, but the bastard had moved on before he could reach his friend’s side.

“Just… a snide comment or two about me ‘slumming’, that of course I was only there for work and about me tending to a mess someone made as if I was the cleaning staff,” Kevin admitted as his jaw tightened in anger. “Enough to remind me of how much I hate him.”

Nothing new, in other words; Riko Moriyama was still the spoiled, sociopathic bastard he’d always been, but Kevin had moved on enough to no longer let him tear him down. “He’s nothing without his uncle’s name and money. Not even his own brother wants anything to do with him.”

“Yeah.” Being reminded of Riko’s many issues always made Kevin happy. “Oh, he seemed obsessed with the Cellini, now that I remember. Kept staring at it and asking the museum staff about it.”

Something to keep in mind in case Riko proved to be trouble, which usually was the case. “Probably saw a new shiny he wants.”

“Yeah.” As if not wanting to talk about the bastard any longer (understandable), Kevin changed the subject to a couple of potential clients he’d met during the evening, whom he planned to follow up with during the next several days. Andrew grunted in agreement since it would keep the man busy – that and Kevin always did better at that sort of thing than him.

Once back at the hotel, they went their separate ways; Andrew imagined that Kevin would call it a night since he’d be up early in the morning to hit the workout room, while he changed into a more suitable outfit for sneaking about and double-checked the address he had for one Stuart Josten. Then it was back out for some ‘fun’.

*******

Neil was in bed attempting to read a book which Renee had lent him on ‘living kindly’ (she tried, she really did, but somehow he doubted that he’d manage a similar conversion like hers) when an alert on his phone went off to inform him that someone had tripped a silent alarm he’d installed near one of the house’s windows. For a moment he debated calling Davis, who was out with Stuart at that awful party, to come back and take care of the problem, but it had been very frustrating couple of days so he figured why not deal with things himself and then call the man to clean up the mess? Plan (more or less) in mind, he reached for the gun in the nightstand before he decided on the knife beneath his pillow instead (less noise) then slipped out of bed dressed in a dark grey t-shirt and boxer-briefs. His phone showed that the opened window had been downstairs, so he snuck down the staircase, where there were faint sounds in the main sitting room.

It was dark, but Neil’s night vision was good and enough ambient light came through the windows for him to make out a short shape dressed in dark clothes doing something to the new Van Gogh forgery hanging on the one wall. As quietly as he could manage, Neil snuck up behind the thief, and almost was within reach when the man (?) took the painting down and turned around.

Neil had the impression of pale skin and hazel eyes gone wide in surprise before the artwork was dropped and the man (definitely a man) launched himself forward; Neil raised his arms to block and got the knife up as he was knocked onto the floor.

“Mr. Josten, I presume,” the asshole said as Neil struggled to regain his breath from the impact and a heavy asshole laid out on top of him, the knife held back a hair’s breadth from said asshole’s neck.

“Yes, nice to meet you, larcenous asshole,” Neil replied as he tried to close that tiny gap, but said asshole was strong.

“Such harsh words.” Larcenous Asshole’s voice was deep and, judging from his accent, he was an American.

“Well, you did break into my house and try to steal a painting. I’m merely calling a spade a spade.”

Larcenous Asshole clicked his tongue as if annoyed, his gaze never once roaming from Neil’s face despite the knife. “I was only taking one painting. You have so many, chances were good you wouldn’t even have missed it.”

“Right, a priceless piece of art like that, we’d never have noticed.” Neil swore that those almost golden eyes narrowed the slightest bit at his comment. “What was I thinking?”

“Like I said, you have so many,” Larcenous Asshole drawled. “And it’s not as if you’re really going to do anything about it, a rich fop of a boy like you.”

“Well, by that reckoning, I’m sure there’s so many other larcenous assholes out there, who’ll notice if I rid the world of one, hmm?” Neil gave the man his father’s grin as he put a bit more effort into moving his right hand, and was rewarded when the knife touched bare skin.

He was also rewarded by seeing another flash of surprise on the otherwise impassive face above him as Larcenous Asshole jerked back away from the knife; Neil used the distraction to bring up his right knee to land a blow which at least hit the man in the very upper thigh if not in the intended target and so gave him enough room to wiggle free.

Both of them scrambled onto their feet, Larcenous Asshole with a bit less grace and a lot of wincing, and somehow Neil wasn’t surprised when his ‘guest’ pulled a knife of his own. “Aw, is playtime over?”

Larcenous Asshole scowled at him, the look slight but definitely there (Neil was used to people giving him dirty looks). “You cut me and tried to knee me in the balls. What type of society fop are you?” he demanded to know as he fingered where the knife had (barely) cut into his neck.

“A society fop who knows how to defend himself and his home. What type of Larcenous Asshole are you if you can’t take a little abuse, hmm?” Neil asked as he fought the urge to flip the knife (well, flip or throw, one of the two – wait, L.A. was standing on the 16th century Persian, so go with ‘flip’ until the bastard moved somewhere better for bloodstains).

“I break into spoiled rich people’s homes, I don’t expect much of a struggle. Also, bleeding,” L.A hissed through clenched teeth.

“You say that as if it’s my problem. Well, actually, take a few steps to the right just in case I cut a little deeper than I thought, won’t you? That rug is priceless.” Neil made a shooing motion with his left hand.

“You are fucked up, which is saying something coming from me,” L.A. declared as he risked a glance at the blood on his fingertips. “Also, I’m thinking that you’re not going to call the cops or else you’d be on the phone already, and I’m not sure you want me dead despite the lovely threats otherwise. So are we going to flirt all night or is there a point to this?”

Dammit… he may be an asshole, but the guy wasn’t stupid; Neil couldn’t call the cops, not when the house was filled with forgeries, and he was hesitant to kill him outright when he wasn’t sure if the man belonged to a syndicate which might cause the Hatfords trouble in the future – there was something about L.A which made Neil think he wasn’t an amateur off the streets. Torn over what to do, Neil eyed him up and down a couple of times before he sighed.

“I’m not flirting,” he insisted, and when L.A. opened his mouth, flipped the knife into a throwing position. “Now, this can either end up in your eye or I can put it away, which do you prefer?”

L.A. gave him a narrow look for a couple of seconds before he huffed. “Away,” he said, deep voice tinged with something that might be respect as he waited for Neil to lower his weapon before he did the same. “Spare a band-aid before I leave?”

Neil considered the question for a moment before he motioned the thief to follow him to the kitchen. “Come on, can’t have you walking around all bloody and raise suspicion.” He wouldn’t risk the police noticing the man and then have them knocking on his door once the story about their little ‘adventure’ got out.

L.A. walked beside him (over an arm’s length away), careful attention paid to his surroundings on the way to the kitchen; he kept glancing at the various artworks on the wall as if making note of them, and then at the various items in the kitchen. Neil remained focused on the thief in return as he went to the one cupboard which stored the smaller medical kit, which he placed on the table (still out of arm’s reach). “There. I imagine an asshole like you is used to patching himself up after people try to kill him.”

The man’s eyes narrowed again, the only sign that the jab might have struck home. “Can we keep personalities out of this conversation? I think maybe you wouldn’t care to have yours brought up.”

“What? I’m an angel, ask my friends,” Neil announced as he tapped his knife on top of the table.

“Are you friends homicidal, too?” L.A. scoffed.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about, no dead bodies around here. At least, not yet. Let me know if you’re willing to change that before I waste any bandages on you, hmm.” Neil motioned to the kit.

Now the look turned contemplative before L.A. pulled the kit toward him. “Sorry, don’t plan on dying tonight. Bad enough I won’t have a nice painting to fence as it is.”

“You can always try the Dhedins’ down the street, I hear they’ve an amazing collection of Degas.” Neil offered a version of his Uncle Will’s smile as he propped up his chin on his left hand.

“How thoughtful of you,” L.A. replied in a rather dry manner which belied his words while he opened the kit and took to poking around in it. “I think I’ll call it a night after nearly having my throat slit.”

“Quitter.”

The thief grunted as he tore open a disinfectant wipe then dabbed at the cut on his throat, which barely bled anymore. “I can honestly say that this night didn’t go as I thought it would.”

“I guess that tends to happen when you’re a Larcenous Asshole.”

“Andrew.”

“Hmm? No, I’m Neil.” Had the man hit his head at some point during their struggle? Was he on drugs? Usually Neil was good at spotting those things.

L.A. sighed as he used another wipe to clean up the blood. “My name is ‘Andrew’. I’m tired of you calling me that.”

“Why, it’s what you are. You steal things and you’re an asshole, hence Larcenous Asshole. If you want, I can call you ‘Kleptomaniacal Bastard’ instead.” Neil put up with being called a ‘smart-ass’ and ‘British demon’ and ‘spawn of hell’ all the time – it was ‘sweetie’ and ‘cutie-pie’ that got on his nerves, but he liked Dan and Allison and the others so he didn’t say anything.

That and knowing his friends, they’d come up with something worse.

For some reason, L.A. looked to be in pain even though he’d already put a bandage on his neck. “I’m beginning to wish I’d let you stab me.”

“Not here in the kitchen, these tiles are from the 18th century.” Neil shrugged when L.A. took to gazing at him as if he was insane. “What, I’m not going to sit through yet another lecture from my uncle about respecting antiques.” Not after he’d used the one Damascus blade to help Davis deal with an intruder who thought to make a name for himself taking out a Hatford.

L.A. muttered something about lunatics while he ran his gloved hands over the black cap covering his head, which dislodged it enough to reveal short blond hair. “All right, I’ve reached my limit of insanity for the night. Consider me suitably punished and that I’m now reconsidering my wicked ways.”

“Somehow I doubt it.”

Neil was given a flat look as L.A. rose to his feet (he was pleased to note that the thief was shorter than him, a rare thing to discover, though he possessed a much stockier build). “Isn’t it past your bedtime, kid?”

That comment earned the bastard a rude gesture.

Neil followed L.A. back to the main room, where the man picked up a small leather bag filled with the tools he’d used to circumvent the alarm on the window (but not the one he’d missed on the lower wall) and whatever else he needed on the job. “Any problem with me going out the front door?”

“No, I’m sure it’ll be a novel experience for you,” Neil said as he pulled the door open. “Be sure to savor it.”

That time he was the one given a rude gesture.

“The Dhedins’ house is the white one with the black columns and the black and gold fence,” he called out as L.A. stomped through the door. “Be sure to pet the mastiffs for me, they love getting their ears rubbed.”

He was given the finger again. Huh, after he was nice enough to warn about the puppies, too.

Some people, you just couldn’t please them.

*******

Andrew groaned when he heard the barrage of knocking on his hotel door; at first he attempted to ignore it, except it refused to stop. Throwing the sheets aside, he stomped to the door and, after undoing the various locks, yanked it open to glare at his partner. “I have no qualms about killing you, Day,” he growled.

“Not enough sharp objects here to do it justice,” Kevin said without fear as he stepped inside; only the fact that he shoved a waxed paper bag bearing the name of the nearby bakery saved him, lack of enough sharp objects or not. “After all these years, you want to savor my death.”

There was some truth to that statement; Andrew had known Kevin for several years, ever since his first year in university, which he and his brother had only gotten into thanks to a ‘charity’ scholarship program run by Kevin’s father. It had been at the end of the first semester when Kevin had shown up on the man’s doorstep, broken and bloody due to what Riko Moriyama had done to him.

Andrew hadn’t been able to get rid of the pest since then.

“So, did you find out anything about Josten’s… what the hell?” Now that Kevin had opened the drapes and turned to face Andrew, he caught sight of the bandage on his throat. “What happened?”

“One Neil Josten,” Andrew explained as he fetched a caffeine drink out of the room’s fridge to go along with his chocolate croissant. “Let me tell you, those tabloid stories about Stuart’s nephew being some shy, meek kid who doesn’t like public outings? I wanna know just how stupid those morons are who wrote them, because there was nothing shy or awkward about that ‘kid’ last night.” Or much of a ‘kid’ at all, either.

“Wait, his nephew was home? I thought the house was supposed to be empty.” Kevin sank down on the bed when Andrew shook his head before having about half of the can of sugary coffee. “Shit, how did you get out of there? Are you in trouble?”

“Funny story, that.” Andrew’s flat tone made it obvious that it wasn’t funny at all. “Josten surprised me before I could do more than a preliminary check on one of the paintings, him and a nice, shiny knife.” Kevin’s eyes widened at that, probably as much about the weapon as for the fact that someone had snuck up on Andrew. “We had a bit of a pissing contest, but it became clear that he wasn’t going to call the cops so we backed off before it went too far. He thinks I’m a thief, but he let me go.” Andrew gave Kevin an intent look after that statement. “I might not have gotten any hard proof last night, but tell me, why would he have done that unless he didn’t want the cops to check out his place, hmm?”

“That… is rather suspicious. But I’m more concerned over the fact that he tried to cut your throat.”

Andrew waved that aside then tossed a piece of croissant into his mouth. “Tried, but didn’t.” A lot of people had tried to take Andrew down, but very few interested him as much as Josten did. No, there was something about the nonchalant way the young man had handled an intruder, had coped with the violence and been able to throw about quips at the same time, the mix of violence and intelligence and ‘go ahead, just try to fuck with me’ attitude that Josten radiated….

“While you’re out doing some work, find out about Josten for me,” he told Kevin.

“And what are you going to be doing?” Kevin asked as he stood up, already dressed for a day of impressing (bs’ing) people despite it not even being noon.

“Looking into his uncle and some other things.”

For a moment, it appeared as if Kevin wanted to ask if Riko was one of those ‘other things’ before he seemed to think better of it; he knew that Andrew wouldn’t let the prick fuck with him anymore. While Andrew doubted that Riko was in Paris because of them, he still would make sure that the man stayed as far away from Kevin as possible.

“Just make sure your work involves more than checking out new bakeries,” Kevin chided as he headed for the door. “Oh, and try to get some exercise for once. I’m going to tell Betsy and Aaron if I find out you spent the day holed up in some café with your laptop.”

Andrew gave him the finger before he shoved the rest of the croissant into his mouth.

*******

First part can be found here

Also, I think I’ll be posting one of the owed ‘you guessed right’ fics later tonight, too....

[kar3npage]

Measurements

New chapter of Sewing Scissors and Throwing Knives is up now! You can read it from the beginning here

“You must be Neil! Nicky and Matt have told me so much about you,” the woman says warmly as she bustles out of the back of the store. “This is Abby,” Nicky says proudly, like Neil wouldn’t have been able to assume as much from the measuring tape hanging around her neck and the fact that she knew his name. Neil gives her an unconvincing smile and a brief handshake. He had taken the drive to control his stress, and he’s relieved that his hands aren’t shaking anymore. “How about you get us all a coffee?” Abby says to Nicky, who takes up the offer enthusiastically. Neil tries not to show how thrilled he is that he doesn't have to convince Nicky to leave. Abby leads Neil to the back of the store where expensive looking private rooms wait. The door is locked behind them, and Neil can’t decide whether that makes him feel more comfortable knowing no one else will interrupt or caged. He avoids looking into the three mirrors that sit at slightly different angles against the far wall. There are two comfortable but elegant looking chairs sitting opposite the mirrors with a table between them. Books of the companies newest collections sit prettily on the table, the top one open to a page showing a photo from the last show. Abby puts on a pair of glasses and pulls out a notebook, smiling at Neil all the while. “Have you ever been made a custom suit before?” Neil shakes his head no. He’s tempted to lie and say that he has just to make himself look a bit more experienced, but there’s no way that anyone would believe him. “Alright, today won’t take very long. I just need you to take off your shirt so that we can get the most accurate measurements for your upper torso.” Neil gives Abby a blank look. He knew this was coming the entire time, but his skin still crawls hearing her say that. “Can’t we get the measurements without removing any clothes?” Abby’s smile has turned sympathetic. Neil eyes go to the door without even thinking about it.

“Many people are uncomfortable at first, but please understand that I’ve been trained to be completely impartial about this. It’s just about the measurements, nothing else.” Neil thinks about warning her about the scars first. But he can’t think of any words to explain his hesitance. Taking off his loose shirt with jerky movements, he moves to ensure that he won’t be able to see the mirrors while Abby works. He looks up just in time to see the shock on Abbys face, before it smooths out to a carefully concealed darkness. She doesn’t say anything, and Neil can feel himself warming up to her slightly. As promised, the measurements don’t take long and Abby’s hands are impersonal and professional. The room is mostly silent, with her muttering certain numbers under her breath before she writes them down. By the time Nicky gets back, Abby is chatting to Neil about the workings of the stores and how custom fittings go. Nicky looks absolutely thrilled at the slightly more relaxed set to Neils shoulders and expression and he plies them with pastries along with their coffee.

Nicky tells Neil about his fiance, Erik, who is currently in Germany, while they drive back to the atelier. Neil isn’t sure if Nicky actually enjoys his company or if he’s just happy to have someone who will listen, but Neil is starting to enjoy the lively man. It’s comforting being with someone who is fine with holding a one sided conversation, who doesn’t push Neil to say anything more than what he wants to.

No one mentions their extended lunch absence, but all of the little comments about Neils clothing makes him think that they all know where he was. Andrew had given him an inscrutable look when they got back, but he hasn’t seen him since. Until now, that is. Neil is standing outside of the door that he’s seen Andrew enter countless times but so far has never been invited in, one fist raised to knock. He isn’t sure why, but his gut is telling him to stay away from the room. It’s like barging into a bedroom - it’s personal, and no one should enter a personal space when they haven’t been invited. Neil shakes away the discomfort and knocks lightly on the door. He still isn’t sure why he was chosen for this errand. Kevin had barely hung up the phone before shoving a portfolio into Neils hands and shoving him in this direction with orders to do whatever he possibly could to get Andrew to do whatever was in the portfolio. When Matt had asked what he was doing, he gave him a pitying look and advised him to just tell Kevin that he wouldn’t. No need to actually ask. As much as he didn’t say, Neil actually did like it when other employees gave him advice. This was just a piece of advice that he would not be following. Andrew gave Neil a complex set of emotions and he still couldn’t tell if Andrew was going to cause him problems while he was here. He had seen how he was always hovering near Kevin, and the stories about how protective he was over Nicky and Kevin. He had read the stories himself about the court mandated drugs through university, and the attack that got him off of them. Despite the constant warnings that team members gave Neil, he still wanted to figure out Andrew for himself. The door opens gently and Neil is faced with a woman with chin length, rainbow dyed hair. She gives him an angelic smile and a feeling of distrust somewhere in his ribs. “We haven’t met yet, I was at the London store for a few weeks to help sooth a customer. I’m Renee, the other embroiderer,” she holds out a hand for Neil to shake. He does, and drops it as soon as he can. Movement over her shoulder draws Neils eye to an amused looking Andrew. He raises one eyebrow at Neil, who scowls back at him. “What can we do for you?” Renee asks. Her voice is soft, but there is something in there that Neil doesn’t trust. He has a similar note in his voice, even when he’s trying very hard to hide it. He’s also heard it in Andrews voice. Plus, the betting that Renee and Andrew are dating doesn’t help Neils view of her. “Kevin wants you to do something for him,” Neil says, still looking at Andrew over Renee’s shoulder in order to avoid her knowing eyes. Andrews mouth turns up infinitesimally. It’s not a friendly expression, more a subtle baring of teeth. A warning. “Well, I’m having lunch with Allison soon. Want me to bring you back anything?” Renee asks Andrew. She barely waits for him to shake his head before slipping around Neil and out the door. She smiles brightly at them as she walks away. “Tell Kevin that a new messenger doesn’t make it a new answer.” Neil shrugs. “Okay. Well, that’s all I came for.” He takes a moment to look around the room before leaving. Curiosity has been eating at him ever since he started working here at what this room might look like. The back wall is entirely window with a comfortable, worn chair near it. In front of the chair is a simple standing embroidery hoop with a half finished project on it. There’s another set up like that in the other corner, and a weaving loom against one wall. The opposite wall is covered by a bookshelf that is entirely filled with books. Neil likes the rest of the atelier. He likes the hum of machines and conversation, the scent of fabric dust, the windows that fill the rooms with sunlight. However, he can say with certainty that he’s never felt so comfortable in a space as he feels in this room. Biting back a sigh, Neil starts turning to go back to Kevin and his stressed anger. “That’s it?” Neil turns back around to face Andrew. If he didn’t know better, he would think Andrew looked surprised. “You said no. What else should I do? Give you a song and a dance?” Andrew narrows his eyes at Neil. “I’ll do it. But only if you come with us to Edens on Friday. A favour for a favour.” “Kevin won’t be happy about that.” “Kevin is coming with.” Neil blinks in surprise. “Fine.” Andrew holds out his hand for the portfolio then flicks his fingers as a dismissal. Neil is almost back in Kevins office when he realizes that he isn’t even sure what was in the portfolio.

[side-effect-of-the-meds]

So is Erin as hot/ hotter than Allison in your fem au?

Depends on who you ask. Ania definitely thinks its Erin. Kevin does too but he doesn’t dare admit it because he will be burned at the stake for it. 

Part of it is their aesthetics, though. Allison dresses like she’s made of money. Her clothes fit the mold of ‘hot girl’. She walks around in heels and bright lipstick. Erin wears combat boots and has eyeliner sharp enough to cut a bitch. She doesn’t need those knives with wings like those. 

Also, there is body type to consider. Allison has long legs and a small waist. She’s got the perfect hourglass shape and long bleach blonde hair. Erin is short and thicc. She’s more of a pear shape than an hourglass and she’s got a lot more pudge than Allison. Erin wears her naturally blonde hair in a bun most days to show off her patterned undercut. Allison sports lean muscle while Erin has arms like a tree trunk (bc baby girl still bench presses more than the rest of the team) and there are abs of steel under the layer of squish on her stomach. 

Some people don’t like short thicc girls. Some people don’t think girls with that sort of body type are 'hot’. Those people are wrong. When Erin goes pro, a lot of men think it gives them the right to comment on her body. During an interview with Ania and Kevin, the male host makes a crass comment on Erin’s body and insists that she’d be a lot hotter if she lost some weight. Ania decks him then and there. Kevin smashes his nose in with the heel of his shoe. No one disrespects their bby. 

They’re both beautiful women and Ania and Renee spend a lot of time fangirling over them together. They both agree that nothing beats watching the two of them walk down the street together and seeing men walk into things because they’re too busy staring at them to watch where they’re going. 

But if you want the real tea? Allison used to think she was the most beautiful woman in the world. She’s always staring in the mirror and blowing kisses at her reflection. That was until Erin joined the line. I mentioned in an earlier post that when Erin changes in the locker room she makes an absolute scene in the hopes of getting Ania to notice her during her first year. Allison officially begins questioning her sexuality when she catches sight of Erin wriggling into her jeans after practice one day. She can’t tear her eyes off her. Erin notices and arches an eyebrow. Allison blushes furiously and storms out of the locker room. She can’t look Erin in the eye for the next week. 

[queen-of-seventeen]

My favourite drug

So my posting date was yesterday and I did post it on ao3, linked to my artist and all, but I also wanted to share it here on tumblr for everyone who didn’t see. 

ao3

the art by my lovely artist who was a wonderful person to work with and bounce ideas off and shoutout to @thespacebetweenworlds for betaing this and calling me out on rythm, word choice and plot. You’re an angel.

Also thank you gabriella for making  @aftgreverse and moderating, this wouldn’t be here without you!

Andrew washed his hands. First rinsing with water. Top, heel, between the fingers. Then with soap and rinse it all. He never missed a spot. He didn’t feel like trailing blood everywhere he went. Not today, not ever. If only Aaron hadn’t forgotten the beeswax again for his hands. His skin wasn’t keeping up with all the washing.

Done.

He stepped out of the room. This should be the end of his work day. He’d have to make dinner for Aaron and prepare for Nicky’s visit from Germany. He should give Katelyn the week off, he didn’t know if he’d given her a break since he hired her years ago. Nicky could take over some tasks and Andrew would be off work a bit more. His cousin was at least notorious in that.

Andrew was already getting a headache when he thought about it. He didn’t hate his cousin but like was too strong a word. At least Erik and his hot chocolates were coming also.

The family of his patient hugged him when he told them their husband and father wasn’t going to die. Why did people feel the need to hug strangers? It was nauseating. Too bad he couldn’t stab them, it wouldn’t do his reputation good. He did have to be a “good” doctor in the end and not kill anyone. Like the man who had lain on his table.

Would he react the same way if it was Aaron or Nicky on that table?

No. He hadn’t cried like that after Aaron’s accident. He just had to crash the GT, hadn’t he?

He told the family that they would be updated by a nurse from now on and Andrew’s day was over. Besides, nurses did more work than he did, he just had to cut people open and stitch them shut. Easy deal.

Someone screamed outside. Probably a woman who would barely make it into one of the delivery rooms. Nothing for him to do. He made his way to the staff room when someone called his name. It was Boyd. He worked at the ambulances and was always too curious for his own good.

“Hey, Andrew, we kind of need your help? Someone has to stitch up Neil and he won’t let anyone but you do it.”

Andrew remembered Neil. He never forgot anyone, but least of all that auburn haired man that could always be found near Boyd. And if people knew little about Andrew they knew nothing about Neil. Which might be why Neil had picked out Andrew to stitch him up. The young man was full of dumb reasons.

Andrew waved a hand to make Matt follow him to an exam room with Neil.

“You’re doing it?” Matt asked. His jaw dropped and he ran a hand through his hair. “I mean great. Please do it quickly. I have no idea how much blood he already lost. Some freak outside stabbed him and he doesn’t even want to take his shirt of so we can put pressure on it.”

Another thing about Neil that didn’t add up. Andrew followed Boyd to one of the smaller examination rooms. He made Boyd wait when he went inside. The glass matte to keep from onlookers.

Neil looked up when Andrew walked in. Andrew’s face turning into a scowl. “You really had to be helpful today of all days?”

Andrew raised an eyebrow and got his supplies from the different drawers. Needles, thread, antiseptics, gauze. From the still spreading blood stain on his arm. He spread them out on the small table and leaned back on a stool. “I get paid to stitch you up.”

Neil remained silent. His eyes flitted to the door and back. Flighty little thing, wasn’t he? “I can stitch myself up.”

“Everyone here can stitch you up.” Not a lie. They all went to school for some form of medical programme. Andrew was certain that only a couple of the desk clerks didn’t know how to stitch up a simple wound or put a couple swallows on them until someone else came to close the wound. “I have a proposition for you. Either I let you stitch it up yourself, wait until you faint from blood loss then still do it myself and hook you up to an IV.”

Neil turned white. “Or? I only heard one option.”

“You let me stitch it up and you can be out of here in a couple of minutes with doctor patient confidentiality, of course.” Andrew crossed his arms. He missed his knives. Too bad they couldn’t go with him into surgery. He could just as well incapacitate Neil with a scalpel.

Neil stilled before taking a deep breath. “Okay.”

Neil took of his coat. He didn’t seem bothered that Andrew wasn’t helping. Andrew was almost certain that neither of them wanted to get close to the other right then. Neil with his reluctance to be helped and Andrew just not wanting to be touched after surgery when he could still feel the blood under his nails.

He had washed his hands right?Rubbed them raw under the streaming water. Top, bottom, between the fingers. Then with soap, top, bottom, between the fingers. Rinse again. Rub them in with beeswax or hand lotion. Take better care of yourself, Andrew. You’re useless if we’re both stuck in wheelchairs.

Andrew blinked twice before he rolled his chair closer to Neil. His skin was pale and sweaty. Not attractive. Not at all. Neil stayed quiet as Andrew numbed the skin and picked up the needle. He didn’t flinch when Andrew stuck it in. “Staring.”

Neil hummed but didn’t look away. He didn’t look at his arm either. He was lucky that the knife hadn’t gotten stuck in one of the bones.

“I didn’t think you would agree,” Neil mused. “Everyone is always saying that you stick to yourself. That you only got in because you know the shrink and stuff.”

“And you believe them.” He said it like a fact. He knew that was what others said about him. One of the nurses, Renee, told him about it during their sunday brunch.

“I like getting my information from the source.” Neil didn’t ask anything else. He kept quiet for a bit. “This is the first time I’m getting stitched up by someone who isn’t family.”

Andrew fought not to react and tied off the thread. His fingers tied the bandage without touching Neil’s skin again. Tight, but not too tight. See Aaron, I know how to tie a bandage.

Neil cocked his head a poked at the bandage. “You’re already done.”

“I don’t waste time.” He started cleaning the equipment and threw out the needle. “Keep it clean but don’t get the wound wet under the shower. If you have any questions, but I doubt the hospital would make hiring decisions that bad, you can ask one of the nurses on the third floor.”

“You work on the third floor?” Neil’s eyes widened. They were too blue to be true. Maybe someone had slipped something in Andrew’s drink and he was making this all up. Like he made up half of his teenage years before Aaron came into the pictures. All the good memories fell under that category.

“Kevin never told me that he works with you.”

“We don’t.” Neil stayed quiet. “We both have our own team. Kevin is the best neurosurgeon this hospital has. My office is on his floor but I work in transplants and amputations.”

“What if I’d come to your office for advice on how to clean this?”

“I get paid to humor everyone with an appointment.” Andrew was finished with cleaning. Why didn’t he leave? Why hadn’t Neil left already? He should be gone. Should go up in smoke. Gone. Out of Andrew’s sight. “Make one and you’ll see what happens. I’m leaving.”

Andrew didn’t look back when he left the room. He certainly didn’t think he should get Neil’s phone number. It’s not like he’d need it for anything. Not like he wanted to speak to Neil or any of his stupid colleagues again.

**

A surgery is a series of complex steps to make sure you don’t accidentally kill someone for a service they asked of you. In other terms: People ask you to consensually stab them in places where they’ll survive.

In this instance Andrew had been needed to do a liver transplant. The woman who got it was lucky. Some guy before her on the list had drunk alcohol. Stupid mistake. There’s only so many rules for a transplant and he messed up an obvious one.

The lady of the transplant hadn’t drunk even once in her life she said. Andrew had no reason to believe her but the blood test came out clean so it was good enough. Good enough for the hospital and good enough for Andrew to stab her in name of his brother. Minyard. How did he even get settled with such a stupid name? With a dumb twin and a dumber cousin who was sleeping in their guest room with his kid and husband from Germany.

Why was family important enough to come visit so far? Andrew wouldn’t do that.

He poked his mashed potatoes with a fork. The texture was wonkey. It wasn’t smooth like it should be and Nicky would be horrified at the bland taste. How unfair life could be to get paid so much but still have such lousy food. He doubted that prison food tasted better. Even with perfect recall, tastes were always difficult to remember.

Like that one piece of chocolate he filched of a younger foster sibling, or the cookies he hoarded before they would cut off his dinner. He deserved better. He might be an angry midget but everybody deserves food. It might be why going to med school in Aaron’s place wasn’t that bad. He already had the credits and Aaron was his motivation letter. This way he could save someone in the same way he had failed his brother.

Telling himself it was just a car accident was both a lie and the ugly truth. Andrew knew what tempered breaks looked like and that Aaron was never supposed to drive in his car. If the police hadn’t found the guy responsible, Andrew would’ve killed him with his bare hands. Nobody touches the people Andrew promises to protect. Except for that time.

The chair opposite of him made an awful screeching sound before Neil sat down. He had to grace to flinch. A steaming ceramic cup warmed his hands. The last remnant of winter had probably seeped in his clothes during his shift.

Why was Andrew thinking of this? It must be the blue eyes.

“I got an appointment,” Neil said. “During lunch hour because you have real appointments of course but I know you still get paid during breaks. Kevin told me.”

Kevin was a traitor. Andrew knew that already. Kevin always had to talk to other people and complain about Andrew. When he wasn’t complaining about Andrew, his apathy towards mistakes, and his poor social skills, he was complaining to Andrew about people. Now Andrew would feel bad for those people only he didn’t like those people and zoning Kevin out mid rant was part of his poor social skills. Now that he was looking at Neil he noticed some things. Neil was a short, flighty, redhead. Which was part of the description Kevin had given at the beginning of his rant. Some stupid red headed midget who always claimed the trackmill in the gym.

Andrew would ask if that’s how Neil knew Kevin. But that would imply Andrew was interested in it. He wasn’t. Not at all.

“I don’t think you have an appointment right now,” Andrew said. “For one, I’m eating and didn’t ask for you to be here.”

“I didn’t see anyone else sitting in this chair.” Neil grinned and ran his finger over the rim of his mug. A real mug with what seemed to be real hot chocolate, with milk, not water.

“The chair’s reserved for my doppelganger. Ask him if you see him.”

“There could never be two of you.”

“That’s just a lie. How did you graduate if you don’t know about twins, triplets, quadruplets, need I go on?”

Neil cocked his head and smiled. He ran his fingers over the rim of the mug again. “How hard must your parents have had it with two of your personality.”

Andrew raised an eyebrow. He watched the smile slip as Neil looked over his shoulder.

“I have to go.” He stood up. The mug still on the table. He hadn’t drunk from it even once. “Matt’s signaling.”

“You’re forgetting your drink.”

Neil looked back over his shoulder, that damn smile back. “I never liked hot chocolate. Consider it a thank you.”

Andrew’s fingers wound around the mug, lukewarm by now, to throw it at Neil’s head. He didn’t do it. Only because he needed this job. Needed the big sums of money to keep paying for Aaron’s care. For Katelyn and the wheelchair, the special shower, all the medication and physiotherapy.

He took a swallow as he didn’t watch Neil walk away. Didn’t watch his ass like he was back at Eden’s with his brother at his side and his cousin on the dance floor down below.

When were Nicky and Erik coming over again? He still had to hire somewhere to clean the house. Someone to pick up the cigarette buds and empty bottles. He never noticed if Katelyn threw them out or not. He didn’t like to spend time at home at all.

He should visit Bee again. See if she could figure out what was going on in his head. He wasn’t able to. Not now. Not when his life was catching up to him.

He would have to figure that out soon enough, but not when he was a mess. Not now. Not now.

**

Home was a mess. Everything was dirty and Andrew didn’t want to clean everything. Even if Nicky was coming that evening. Andrew and Aaron were going to pick them up in a couple of hours. He couldn’t believe he had taken two whole days off for Nicky. Aaron would be able to entertain him way better.

Aaron leaned forward out of his chair, almost sliding out. His fingers just touched the knight enough to scoot it a bit.

“Be careful,” Andrew snapped. “We should’ve sat at the kitchen table.” That way he wouldn’t have to pick his brother up from the floor.

“I told you, I like the view better here. It’s a great garden. Katelyn offered to plant some flowers. You know it being spring and all that.”

“Bulbs have to be planted in the winter. We wouldn’t have tulips if we had to wait for Katelyn to plant all of them.” He didn’t like Katelyn. Didn’t like how she pried in all the cupboards when he already told her where the meds were. How she insisted Andrew had to clean more because it was better for Aaron.

He didn’t need a stranger in his bathroom. It was his bathroom, his bedroom, his home, his brother. The only reason she was here was because Andrew was living Aaron’s dream. He could’ve been FBI or CIA or just a regular cop by now. He had studied for it in the first years of his college education.

Then came the car. Andrew became a surgeon and Aaron was bound to a desk at the newspaper two days a week. He was a better writer than he first thought, at least. Imagine all the threats they’d get over false news otherwise.

Aaron leaned forward again and this time actually managed to move the knight without knocking over the whole board.

“You’re setting yourself up to lose.” What was his brother doing? They had played together for years now. Aaron knew what a losing move looked like.

“If I can win from this position I want you to do me a favor.” Andrew looked over the rim of his reading glasses. Contacts were for work days, and the dates he couldn’t go on anymore.

“No,” he said. It couldn’t only be bad if Aaron was asking that of him. Maybe someone at his work asked him out out of pity. The guy that can’t walk, only has so many fingers. Must be fun to see if he can get it up, right? He wouldn’t allow for someone to use his brother like that.

“You didn’t even hear what I want to ask of you.” Aaron let his wheelchair bump into the table before he moved a piece.

“I said no. I won’t do you anymore favors.”

“When have you ever done me any favors?” Andrew could almost imagine his twin standing up. He always wanted to be taller when he got angry. It was why Andrew stayed seated in the low chair.

“The last time I did you a favor you got yourself hit by a car and destroyed mine, remember?”

Aaron visibly flinched and sunk down in his chair. “I wanted you to drive me to a restaurant, okay. Katelyn asked me to try out some icecream with her.”

“You want to go on a date?” Aaron nodded. Andrew folded his hands. He had to say no. He had to protect his brother. Protect him as if they were thirteen again and Andrew was the only thing between Aaron and his mother’s hands. Between Aaron and another hit. “If Nicky is still here by then you can get him to drive you.”

“Is that a yes?”

“You’re thirty-two. I’m not driving you.” He stood up. His hands itched for a whiskey he hadn’t drunk in years. They didn’t mix well with Aaron’s meds. He could almost taste the burn in his throat.

He grabbed water with ice instead. A second glass already in his hands filled with lemonade before he thought of it.

The stool felt warm and gross when he sat down again. Why didn’t chairs ever just feel neutral?

His fingers moved his queen in reach of Aaron’s knight. He knew he was setting himself up to lose also. Aaron gave him a look like he understood. He could never. He had never given up the last shreds of what he wanted for someone just because he made a promise. Aaron never kept his promises anyway.

It took ten more minutes before Andrew’s pager went off. Buzz, buzz. He reached for it in the same moment that Aaron got him checkmate. The queen was gone and Andrew had nowhere to go.

Emergency. Ambulance incoming in 20 minutes.

Aaron looked chagrined. “Hospital?”

“I could ask them to page Kevin.” Andrew took a sip from his drink.

“You could save someone’s life.”

“Or end it.”

Aaron gave his brother a cold look. “You’re going to save them. I’ll call Nicky to drive Erik and him over here or I’ll call Katelyn and she can take us to and from the airport. We both know she doesn’t have much other patients with the amount you pay her.”

“I wasn’t the one who said I couldn’t have more than three sports cars.” This didn’t improve Aaron’s look but Andrew’s mood went a bit up. Today was supposed to be their brother day after all and the surgery was messing it all up. “Call Katelyn. See if she still likes you after meeting Nicky.”

He pulled on his coat and closed the door before Aaron could reply. His brother was going to get his heart strings pulled. No big deal. It wasn’t like their agreement was still running. Aaron had broken it one to many times. And Bee said it was time to let things go. They were both thirty-two after all.

The Maserati wasn’t his normal work car but he needed to be there quick. The nurses and other surgeons on his team were probably already prepping the room. He still had to dress and clean. He was too slow.

His feet pressed on the peddle a bit more.

The doors slid open in front of him and he didn’t remember half of the trip there. That wasn’t a good sign. It was never a good sign when he was losing time like that. He should get it checked out. There probably was an explanation for and Bee wouldn’t put it in his report if he asked it during a friendly dinner.

The blue scrubs he wore were still clean. His head was still full. There was so much that could be happening at the moment. What if his patient had already died in the ambulance. Then he’d have left Aaron alone for no reason.

Andrew let someone pull on his gloves. It was long ago that he didn’t dare pull his arm guards off but they weren’t hygienic enough for a surgery. He had no choice. No choice but to almost flaunt all his scars to his team. He saw Renee in a corner. The blatant lie that she didn’t want to be a surgeon. He knew she’d had the training. He knew that she only became a nurse because she got more contact with people that way. It was why the boss was so reluctant to give her a raise, fucking Joan of Arc didn’t care for it. Stupid.

In the end a surgery was just as much the use of the right equipment and team. Andrew knew he had both.

It was a surprise for him when it turned out that he hadn’t known everything from the start. He knew it had been a car crash. Look out for internal bleeding, for ruptured organs, for anything. He hadn’t seen the blood at the start. It was a body, there was blood everywhere, always. Robin was good at suction and watching over abnormalities and he was glad Jack had been transferred to Kevin’s team.

There was more blood than planned. At the bottom under the liver there was a small gap. A rib had punctured it and nobody had told him. He’d have told them how low the chance of succeeding was if they had. Now he had to save the dickwad on his table because someone else forgot to tell him stuff.

No time to think. He had to act. To save the man.

He did. He did save the man. Barely. He wasn’t sure how much of the spine was messed up during the drive, the stretcher, the man handling and the surgery. He could’ve just messed up the man’s chance at walking. Not his fault. Not his fault. Not his fault. He told himself.

This is nothing like Aaron’s accident. He had no control over Aaron’s accident or surgery. Aaron was already done for before the medical team arrived on scene. It was a miracle his brother was still alive. If Andrew believed in miracles. He didn’t. Miracles were for the hopers and the hopeless. He was neither. Faith was a waste of his time and had never gotten him anywhere.

It had only gotten his hopes dashed. A very visual imprint of you don’t deserve this . He hated it.

**

The steps at the back door were cold. The only time they were warm was when your butt would melt into one of the steps themselves. At the moment they just turned Andrew into a popsicle. It wasn’t good for him to sit there. He might get a UTI or some other disease from the bacteria that lingered there. The bacteria that would seep into his lungs and might finally make an end to his misery. Long ago he had thought it was his time to go. The world hadn’t agreed with him. Instead they’d tried to take his brother away.

He hated the world and the people in it.

He pulled his last packet of cigarettes out of his backpack. The flame already leaving the smoke he so desperately needed in his lungs. Starting to smoke had been a mistake. A mistake from 13 year old Andrew. Now he had to live with it. He craved the ashes on his tongue as much as he craved control. Maybe becoming a surgeon hadn’t been so bad an idea. He now controlled life and death after all.

Who was he kidding? It was awful. He much preferred singling out murderers and criminals faster than any other in his class. Yet another thing taken away from him.

He blew out the smoke, watching it cloud his sight of the Maserati. The car bought from his first big paycheck. The others had all gone to Aaron. No. No more thoughts of Aaron. He let the smoke billow around him before inhaling again. Let the smoke fog up his mind and cloud his judgement.

His thoughts became fuzzy. He needed fresh air. Clean of the nicotine to keep him alive. Bee would tell him to breathe.

“You’re a smart man, Andrew. You could do everything you want. Yet you follow your brothers dreams.”

But Betsy was a fool. She didn’t know anything of Aaron. Mostly because Aaron didn’t want to talk to the psychiatrist. She also didn’t know of their little agreement to look out for each other and stick together. One that Andrew was slowly loosening up as he let Aaron go out for a single date. Okay, he did it because Nicky would be nagging too much otherwise but still. Andrew would put his brother in first place even if he only ever got second, or third, fourth on a bad day.

Stupid.

The door opened with a whoosh and slammed shut. Andrew glanced sideways to see Neil sit down on the steps a careful arms length away. He always seemed to do that. Staying a careful distance away. Hmm, what would Bee say about him? He should ask her during their next lunch. As far as Andrew knew Neil wasn’t a patient so Andrew should be able to ask her.

He blew out a big plume of smoke before locking his gaze on the Maserati. He could feel Neil staring, those big blue eyes burning. Andrew allowed himself one more sideways glance. Neil was sitting on his hands. Andrew was barely able to stop himself from wondering about those strong thighs. Damnit, maybe he shouldn’t have given up Roland those years ago. He could’ve gotten a decent fuckbuddy out of him.

“Staring,” Andrew said. He put the cigarette down. It didn’t taste good, nor did the one after that. He had three left in the package before he gave up. It wasn’t a good time for smoking anyway.

Neil hummed. “Looking at you is better than Matt’s face. He gets these big sad eyes every time I tell him I haven’t done something.” When Andrew didn’t react he went on. “Like ice skating, or to the cinema, taking pictures for your own apartment. I didn’t even have an apartment before this job.”

Andrew looked at Neil as he leaned over his knees. Neil’s hair lit up in the early evening sky. It made him look like a fire and Andrew was the one getting burned if he kept at this for any longer.

“My mother left my father when I was eight,” Neil continued his monologue, “both of them died before I was eighteen. Lived in England for a while. Got my drivers license. Lost it again. Got it again in America. I’m very determined to not lose it a second time. Maybe keep to the speed limits a bit better.”

Andrew snuck glances at him while he rattled on. They were small bits and pieces about Neil’s life and while they seemed logical it didn’t add up to the person he tried to be. The Neil who was friends with Boyd. To be friends with Boyd you had to either be a puppy or as close to it as a person could be, or a kicked one. He was beginning to think Neil was the latter.

“I’m thinking of a getting a pet,” Neil said. “Matt says I should get a dog. It could go on runs with but to be fair I don’t want it to chew up my couch.”

Neil caught Andrew’s eyes and smiled. Too sharp for a puppy. He grabbed Andrew’s cigarettes only to get the matches out. It sparked and the flame lit up his eyes. A strange blue, not yet grey but very light. Like a midsummer sky back in California. It made Andrew dislike him a bit more. That the sunset set Neil’s hair aflame did not help his case. It looked brighter than the fire of the matches. He looked more addicting than the nicotine. Neil would probably kill him faster.

Andrew squashed down the small bit of want that went with his thoughts.

“Would you like to come with me to the shelter?” Neil asked.

“No.”

“Okay. I’ll ask Dan. She’s a bunny person so at least I won’t end up with something like a snake. No good memories of those in Australia.” Neil scrunched his eyebrows. “Or maybe not. I should take Allison and get her to buy all the toys for me because I won’t be spoiling the pet enough.”

“A pet is a bad decision. They need attention and you work irregular shifts. We all do. You can’t care for others like that.”

“I could if I wanted to. Something like a cat doesn’t have to be taken out. Although you might be right with all the litter.” Neil leaned back on his hands and looked up to the sky. “My break is almost over. Can I leave you here or should I get someone to stay with you?”

“Need to get home. Cousin is staying over for the week.” Andrew huffed. “This was supposed to be my week off. They owe me a night.”

“If you’re not here who will stitch up my wounds?” Neil’s smile was almost as blinding as his hair or the shine in his too smart eyes. Andrew wanted to punch him. Hard. Right across those cheekbones.

Andrew didn’t get why Neil was still sitting on the cold steps. Why he hadn’t so much as blinked when the flame had reached his fingertips. He was an enigma. A problem. Something Andrew wanted to solve. Somehow he thought he might be better off not trying.

Neil had to stop being so interesting.

Only, his brother was going on dates now . Bee would say to give it a try. People aren’t distractions. They’re a support system if you give them the chance. But he did have a support system. Aaron, Renee, Bee and Nicky, even if Nicky knew just about nothing. He didn’t need a fifth person to come into his house and eat his ice cream.

His hands itched for another cigarette and before he could deny himself Neil was already holding one out.

“I know what it feels like to be addicted to something. For me it’s running, and sometimes that’s more dangerous than a pack of cigarettes.”

Andrew took it and ignored the shiver down his spine when Neil’s fingers touched his. He ignored the burn of two blue eyes. Ignored the questions for the redhead. Ignored it when Neil said bye and jogged to the ambulance.

He ignored all the strange crawling feelings in his stomach until he got home and got distracted by his cousin and brother who had been waiting up for him.

**

Nicky, Erik, and Aaron were sitting in the backyard when Andrew came home. Nicky grinned when he saw him. A glass of wine in his and Erik’s hands, an untouched one in Aaron’s. Alcohol didn’t go well with his medication.

Andrew bypassed his cousin to pluck the glass away from his brother and drank it dry. Maybe not the smartest move as he hadn’t drunk in months either. “No more wine for Aaron. We quit drinking years ago.”

We. We. As if they had grown up together. As if they had those weird twin coincidences like being allergic to the same food or being able to read each other's minds through osmosis. Aaron didn’t like his twin enough to allow for that much. Andrew had started to care too much over the years that he wanted it. Like he never wanted anything but to keep his brother safe.

Nicky moved from his chair to Erik’s lap. His fingers disappearing in blond hair. Curly, like Neil’s, only Neil was a wildfire and Erik was a firefighter. He’d squash down the easy wit that bordered on antagonism. Andrew couldn’t have one. His only two joys in the hospital were tea with Renee and Bee and watching Neil burn someone to the ground.

He had to stop this. Had to stop looking at Neil and thinking of Neil. Had to stop anything to do with Neil. Next time Andrew would let him bleed to death at his front door.

He sat down in the chair Nicky abandoned. The wicks poked his back. Aaron always forgot the pillows. Apparently Nicky didn’t even assume they had them. As if he hadn’t been the one to raise Andrew during his teenage years.

“How was work?” Erik asked. His voice was much lower than anyone else in the backyard. If he hadn’t had such a pretty face and Andrew hadn’t had years of therapy he would’ve punched Erik at the associations his voice brought up.

“Nobody died. I’m still employed. Kevin is still the jerk who gets paid more than I do. ‘Best surgeon in South Carolina,’ don’t make me laugh.”

Aaron’s lips quirked up and Nicky was beaming. It wasn’t often Andrew made a joke. At least not a joke that didn’t border on antagonism.

Erik tapped Nicky’s thighs before making them both stand up. “I’m happy you like your job, Andrew. It will lessen Nicky’s grey hairs. Can’t have Camilla not recognizing her dad.”

Camilla was their six year old. They had adopted her back in Germany and she was tolerable for a little kid, Andrew presumed. Totally terrified of the wheelchair one second and fascinated the next. Too bad she wasn’t able to come as she was the funnest of his relatives but it was only her second year in elementary so Erik’s mom was watching her.

The couple wished the twins a good night before retreating inside of the house. It was quiet for all but a minute before there was a loud crash and a scream - surprise and pain. Nicky came running outside, eyes wide.

“Erik broke his arm. The bone is poking out and all. And… shit, fuck, our health care doesn’t cover american hospitals! Oh my god.”We don’t have money for an ambulance or health care outside of Germany.”

Andrew heard Aaron calming down Nicky as he went inside the house. Erik was laying at the bottom of the stairs and Nicky had been right. That was a bone. But no way in hell was Andrew  calling an ambulance for a broken arm.

Andrew grunted. Hopefully the big lump didn’t have a concussion or any other unnecessary trauma, but there was a big chance that Andrew could help his cousin in law. He crouched and took the pen light out of his shirt pocket. It helped that he’d gone straight into the garden from work. It wasn’t like he normally changed into sweaters when he got home. He never knew when he would be called in again or if Katelyn was coming over.

“Look right, look up.” He gave a couple more orders and checked his neck and head before letting Erik sit up. Both Nicky and him said he hadn’t hit his head. Just a poor fall.

“We have to get you to the hospital to set your arm. I haven’t set one in a while but I know someone who does. I can ring her up.” He looked up at his cousin and brother. “I’m taking Erik. Can the two of you stay at home. Get some tea into Nicky. Erik and I will be back in an hour or two depending on Renee and the amount of available rooms.”

Nicky nodded and helped get his husband off the floor. Erik’s arm was put in a sling made out of two kitchen towels. They put him in the car and Nicky didn’t even threaten Andrew to bring his husband back safe or to not kill himself on the road. Maybe he finally started trusting Andrew some more. He definitely hadn’t finally gotten a brain.

Andrew dialled Renee during the car ride. He was steadily ignoring Erik’s stare and focusing on the road and on getting a room and personnel ready. If only someone on his own team was used to setting bones. But no, they were all stuck with the knowledge of how to cut open a living body and close it before it died.

Useless knowledge. For anyone that wasn’t a surgeon or encountering life threatening situations that is.

Renee met him at the door and let Erik straight into a room to get pictures taken. She was good at this. It was one of the reasons he befriended her at first. The second was that she was less stupid than his other colleagues. Renee came in with the pictures and started explaining the wound. Andrew saw Erik nodding, almost as if he was either going to fall asleep or faint. He pulled a chocolate bar from his pocket and handed it over without diverting his eyes from Renee. He absolutely did not see the grateful look when Erik ripped it open with his teeth.

She set the bone like it was her job. Which it was. In the end it only took her forty-five minutes for everything and send them off with an order for Andrew to buy him a coffee.

They sat down at one of the tables with gross, steaming cups. Erik was texting Nicky the news. There was probably some other stuff in there that Andrew didn’t want to know. He’d had enough of their sex life during their college years. Phone sex was not something you wanted to witness. Especially not when it’s your cousin.

Andrew felt eyes burning into him. From two sides. One was Erik who was trying to talk to him. Even if Andrew was close to passing out from a tough work day and having to drive his cousin back to said work. The other pair of eyes were from Neil. He was looking almost thoughtful and started coming over.

Andrew almost started believing in Nicky’s god just so he could pray for Neil to stay away.

Of course it didn’t work. Neil stopped next to the table and smiled. Andrew had seen that smile. Had almost walked into a wall because of it. Still he hadn’t had it turned on him ever before. He would’ve fallen out of his chair if he wasn’t Andrew Joseph Minyard.

“Hey, Andrew. I thought you’d gone home.” He bit the inside of his cheek. Andrew did not notice that. At all.

“To your boyfriend,” Neil added hastily.

Erik started laughing spitting his coffee back in the cup to keep from choking on it. Andrew just grimaced. That was gross. He had to admit Nicky didn’t have a bad taste in man but the thought of dating Erik left a bad taste in his mouth.

“I live with my brother. My cousin and his husband came to visit from Germany. This is his husband.”

“Guten Abend, Andrews Cousins Ehemann. Wie geht’s Ihnen?” Neil adressed Erik in fluent German.

Erik responded back in German. A lesser man than Andrew would’ve been shocked out of his mind. He never would’ve thought that Neil could speak German. Especially that well. The only reason Andrew could were because of Erik, Nicky and Camilla. He didn’t expect the little girl to speak English after all. He’d rather her learn Spanish anyway. Even if Nicky’s Mexican mom was a bitch she was less so than her husband, so her language should come first in her repertoire.

Andrew drank the last sledges of coffee before cutting into the conversation. “Nicky will start bothering me if I don’t get you back soon.”

He stood up and pulled on his black coat. Neil’s eyes didn’t so much as roam his body as train his eyes on Andrew’s face. Especially his mouth and his own eyes.

“You owe me a cigarette,” Andrew simply said before dragging his cousin in law out. He didn’t miss the quirk on Neil lips nor the one on Erik’s. He also pointedly ignored Erik’s questions about Neil and how much they saw each other. If they worked in the same department. He didn’t say anything.

At the end of the ride Erik had stopped asking and Andrew had started thinking that Neil might be more than just an itch he’d wanted to scratch. Neil was more interesting than Andrew had expected and he didn’t like that thought.

**

Nicky and Erik were almost set to go home. It’d been a little over a week already since Andrew had seen Neil in the hospital that night. They’d smoked behind the building on some days when their breaks coincided but Neil hadn’t said anything about the German. Andrew knew he wouldn’t. Not until Andrew asked and he wouldn’t. Neil had the right to his secrets. The same right Andrew had to his own.

Nicky was trying to get Aaron to wear a suit instead of the T-shirt. Erik was trying to get Andrew to borrow Aaron the car. Andrew was trying to ignore them.

He didn’t lend out his car to anyone. They only got to ride in it as a passenger. It was the only way he could make sure there weren’t more accidents.

More people like Aaron.

He pulled his phone out of his pocket and send a single text.

“Come on, Andrew. Aaron hasn’t had a date in years. It’s only one night that he needs it,” Erik said.

Andrew felt the phone buzz and checked the screen. “I can’t lend Aaron the car. I need the car.”

He stood up and began towards the stairs. “Why do you need the car? You were staying home.”

Erik almost followed him up the stairs and Andrew saw Nicky leaning over the balustrade upstairs.

“I’m meeting a friend.” His face blank. Andrew kept walking up the stairs. He made to swerve around Nicky, it wouldn’t do him well to throw his cousin off the stairs, but Nicky stayed in his path.

“Just a friend?” Nicky asked.

“Is it pretty hospital guy?” Erik followed up. Oh, those two were made for each other alright. Both annoying.

Andrew didn’t answer and went into his room.

Neil probably wouldn’t understand that this was technically a date. Andrew had send him a time and an address with a show up if you want to. A bit ominous but quite Andrew.

He pulled on his normal clothes. Things like his black turtleneck and skinny jeans, his combat boots should be somewhere in the back of the closet. Behind the box of all the old study books he didn’t have to read anymore. They were clothes that he couldn’t wear to work. The clothes he felt most comfortable in.

He almost didn’t bother with his hair. Neil probably wouldn’t notice the effort anyway. Still he did it. He wanted to impress Neil for the not-date. O god. Neil didn’t know it was a date. If the guy was as oblivious as Kevin always implied he might even show up in track pants. Well, here’s for hoping. It wasn’t like Andrew couldn’t leave him in the restaurant if he showed up like a hobo.

He walked down the stairs. Passed his brother, straightened Aaron’s ugly blue tie, and let Nicky pat him on the shoulder. It was a step up from the hugging. Not great, but okay.

The doors shut behind him. Knowing he was coming back there to his brother and cousin was the only reason he didn’t freak out at the change. It had been them, the two of them, for so long- He didn’t know if he liked adding people to the mix. Although he had to admit that Erik hadn’t been that bad of an addition.

Maybe Katelyn wouldn’t be an atrocity either. Neil would probably be awful if he finally figured out it was a date. Maybe Andrew should tell him. Yes, he should. He would. That’s right. Just when Neil arrived, to clear the air between them.

Andrew did not get a chance to broach that topic. He was already sat at one of the tables in the too fancy restaurant when Neil walked in. He was wearing skinny jeans, for god’s sake, and a long sleeved shirt that showed his muscles off too well.

Neil sat down opposite to Andrew and immediately took a sip of the champagne. “Matt said this is a date.”

He took another sip and swooshed it around in his mouth. “That you’ve been eyeing me for a while and I was oblivious.”

“Did he also make you wear those jeans?”

“He did,” Neil smiled, “do you like them?”

“They’re less terrible than your usual attire.”

Neil smiled again. A big, toothy grin that took Andrew’s breath away like a stolen cigarette. Neil put his glass aside and grabbed his menu. “Oh, they haveEscargots, one thing I never want to eat again.”

“Jean from oncology said they are better in France anyway.”

Neil hummed. He closed the menu and tapped his long fingers on top of it. “Tried them there. Didn’t like them. The texture just isn’t for me. I think I’m going with hare steak. Have you ever tried that?”

Andrew shook his head. He picked out his own dish and closed the card. “My cousin made me promise to never eat bunnies. I don’t go back on my promises.”

Andrew looked down at the embossed letter on the menu to avoid Neil’s face.

“You never answered my question,” Neil said.

“You didn’t ask one.” Andrew raised a single eyebrow.

“Is this a date?”

“Yes or no, Neil?” Andrew finally looked up. He found the blue and thought of the hottest part of a flame. Looked at Neil and thought of all the secrets shared on dirty hospital steps. He hoped for an answer and wished Neil would say no. Andrew had been a danger to everyone for years. He didn’t deserve someone like Neil. Someone who gave those secrets away like they were loose change and Andrew was a beggar.

He’d promised himself to never beg again but he thought that he might cave a single please to never find his brother in a hospital bed again.

“Yes, Andrew. I want to be on this date with you.”

Andrew nodded. His eyes back to the embossed letters and his fingers tracing the curves until Neil’s hand came into sight. Close but not touching.

When Andrew looked up the waiter was waiting for his order. “The salmon.”

Neil smiled like he had known what Andrew was going to say before the words had even left his mouth. Andrew didn’t know if he liked it.

Conversation with Neil wasn’t like anything Andrew had with anyone else. It was wild and quiet and outrages and calming and so many different things. Sometimes it was completely silent but it wasn’t uncomfortable. Neither had realized just how used to each other they had become with all those hours.

Hours Andrew got the evil eye for when he got home late for Aaron. He realised they those hours had been worth it. Having conversations with someone who treated him like just another human were worth it.

Someone other than Bee or Renee. Someone he could actually like over time.

If he’d ask the ladies they’d say this was good. In all honesty, and Andrew despised lying, he was terrified. Limiting Aaron’s sexual and romantic endeavours had also meant staying on his own himself. He couldn’t feel sorry for that but he was glad he could feel the fear after all those years.

Was glad to have Neil sitting at the table with him when they already trusted each other.

And if Andrew fantasized that night about Neil’s lips on his he wouldn’t tell anyone himself.

**

Andrew crossed his legs. He counted to sixty before uncrossing them. Nicky was supposed to be here already. Andrew had forgotten the burritos at home and Nicky had sworn he’d bring them. Andrew had forgotten that Nicky was always late.

Finally the doors opened to let Nicky in. His dark skin looked sickish in the hospital light. Then again who didn’t look ill in a hospital? Maybe Andrew because his completion was already as pale as that stupid Edward Cullen guy.

Nicky didn’t just hand over the burritos and left. He just asked if they were allowed to eat where they sat and started unpacking his bag. He pulled out drinks and food and sauce and-

“Nicky, you said you were bringing a single burrito.” Andrew raised an eyebrow.

“I’m bringing lunch. I’m leaving soon and I’ve barely seen you because of your work. Which great, you’re saving people. I even saw the girl that patched Erik up outside. She said you have a picture of us and our little girl.”

“She’s lying,” Andrew deadpanned. “Renee doesn’t know what she’s talking about.”

Nicky started arguing but fell silent. “Is that redhead who I think it is?”

Andrew turned around to stare in the same direction. Neil’s hair was almost brown under the hospital lights but the smile on his face made him light up from within. They stared for a minute. Neil’s laughter echoing through the hall.

  His head turned and his eyes fell on Andrew, than on Nicky. His soft smile spread across his face as he waved and started walking over. Andrew wouldn’t have minded it if Nicky hadn’t been sitting next to him. Nicky had in no way brought enough burritos for all three of them.

“Is this the husband of mr. My Cousins Husband?” Neil said. He was just standing there. Right next to him. His hair a mess of auburn curls and his hands hung loose by his side. He looked great, even in uniform. That might even help.

“What are you doing here?”

“I asked first.” Neil smirked and extended a hand. “I’m Neil.”

“You are the date!” Nicky’s grin took up his whole face. “I’m Nicky, grumpy’s cousin. I hear you’ve met my husband.”

Neil nodded. He pulled his hand back a little too quick. Nicky probably didn’t notice. Andrew noticed everything.

“Join us for lunch?” Nicky looked a bit too hopeful but Andrew already knew Neil had to get back to work in a couple of minutes.

“Only if this counts as our second date, or should I just text you an address for tonight?” He was pretty sure that if he lifted his eyebrow any higher they’d disappear in his hair.

“Tonight?”

“Yes.”

“Text me the address and get back to work.”

Neil’s smile was sharp and shark like but Andrew thought he liked it. Nicky certainly did. Andrew didn’t feel sorry when he kicked his cousin over it.

**

Andrew was waiting in his car. Neil said he’d get there in about ten minutes. Apparently the loser didn’t have a car. He should’ve mentioned it. Andrew would’ve picked him up. Too late for that now. He said Boyd was bringing him. Nicky had said they sounded like high schoolers. Andrew as the cool guy in his car and Neil being brought by his unofficial dad.

His phone rang and the vibrations made an annoying sound in the cup holder. Or phone holder, as Andrew used it. “Minyard.”

“Andrew,” Renee said. “We need you to get here for an emergency, all the other surgeons are unavailable.”

He turned his key in the ignition and drove off. Neil would understand.

“Tell me who and what,” he ordered.

“Young man, no allergies or prior surgeries. There was nothing wrong with him but well-”

“Spill it, Renee.”

“It’s Neil Josten. Matt was driving him to a date and they got into a crash. Matt was fine but someone drove into Neil’s side of the car. There’s some glass shards in his upper body and we’re afraid he might have a collapsed lung.”

Neil. It was Neil. Neil who was supposed to be arriving at that same restaurant in three minutes.

Andrew tried not to think about the similarities between his brother and his date. Tried not to think that Neil might already be dead before he even arrived at the hospital.

Andrew had never gotten to the hospital that fast.

Getting ready for surgery was a blur and it might not be the safest thing to let him operate half in shock. It wasn’t like they had any other choice. Kevin and the other surgeons were all busy or out of the country or too far away to be able to save him.

There were scalpels and blood and flat lungs and almost flat liners and glass on its way to Neil’s heart to stop it before Andrew could save the one person willing to date him. The one person he was willing to date.

Neil had always respected his boundaries and now Andrew was breaking all of his to save Neil’s live. It was worth it. Even if Neil would hate him for putting him on display, at least he’d be alive because if there was one thing Andrew was good at it was saving life. Stitching skin to keep someone from bleeding out and dying on his table.

The surgery took too long and too short and Renee pumped sugary drinks and food into him when it was done to try and get him out of the minor shock. He was a mess and he knew it but he didn’t talk. Couldn’t say anything. Not to Renee, not to Bee, not to his brother and cousin when they came by in the hospital room to see if Neil was doing any better.

Only there were no signs he was getting better. Yes, his wounds were closing, but Neil was still asleep. His right arm and leg still broken and his mind dormant. Andrew hated it every time he set foot in that stupid room.

His reprieve was work. Work and Aaron. His brother who saw Andrew much the same as he had been years ago. His brother who must see that this was no different than when Aaron lay there much the same way.

A car accident. A couple broken bones. A heart so close to stopping that Andrew was willing to give his own. He wouldn’t die to save Neil but the feeling came close enough.

It took a week for Neil to wake up. Andrew was sitting next to his bed, his head propped on his arm as he read.

“Andrew,” a soft voice croaked. Andrew quickly set down his book and moved the glass of water with a straw to Neil’s mouth.

“Spare your voice. You’ve been out for a week. You could’ve just told me if you didn’t want to go on a second date.”

Neil almost missed the quirk of his lips when he said that. It was a sad one.

“I did. Fucker in the other car ran through red. Must’ve.”

Neil was right. Andrew didn’t want to know how he could still remember that.

“Take a nap, Neil. You need to rest.” Neil nodded but moved his hand to grab Andrew’s. “Stay, yes or no?”

“It’s always yes with you,” Neil said before passing out again.

Andrew turned to his book. His heart started beating again. A shade so dark it was almost black. Rotten from years of neglect and disuse. Years in which he was denied love and care. A heart so dark he thought nobody would see through but his friends had grabbed candles and flashlights and decided they would be his light until he found his own. Now there was enough light. Not a lot but enough. Light for his family, for Bee and Renee and now for Neil. Because Neil wanted him to stay. For however long that was Andrew would take it. He would stay for Neil.

[smeemyselfandi]

1. Marriage Story- Never seen a film that did marriage and divorce so well.

2. Avengers Endgame- A almost perfect climax to a great saga.

3. JoJo Rabbit- Such a charming film especially considering the topic.

4. The Last Black Man in San Francisco- A underrated gem with great performances on a unique story.

5. 1917- The gimmick was needed to let you feel what it's like to go through war and how it never feels like it ends.

6. Uncut Gems- This movie is stressful. Also while I think Sandler was very good I don't think he should have won a Oscar for this but maybe nominated.

7. The Irishman- A great reminder of great actors and a great director. Might be the last time we see them this great.

8. Spider-Man: Far From Home- Didn't expect it to be as good as it was. Mainly cause of the great villian.

9. Toy Story 4- This was probably the funniest of the Toy Story series but probably the one with the least amount of emotion.

10. Shazam- One of the best family films of the year.

11. Rocketman- A wonderful music video tribute to one of the best!

12. Parasite- A good message for a crazy story that you don't know where it's going.

13. Us- Wonderful performance by Lupita makes this Twlight Zone episode worth watching.

14. The Lighthouse- Great performances and good atmosphere. Felt like I would have liked it more if it wasn't for the hype.

15. Midsommar- A bit disappointing considering how much I loved Hereditary but still good even though the story was predictable.

16. Missing Link- Underrated with its beatufiul animation and cute story.

17. Knives Out- The story is kind of a mess but the actors are having fun and it's a pretty fun movie for the most part.

18. John Wick 3- Feels similar to the first two but hooks you in the more you watch making it one of the best action trilogies.

19. Little Woman- A good story and film but I'm not so sure it needed to be told again.

20. Honey Boy- Can we all admit that Shia can act now?

21. Steven Universe The Movie- The show is better but the villian in this is sooo good.

22. Captain Marvel- Fun superhero story that people was too harsh to.

23. Once Upon a Time in Hollywood- Feel like Quentin ego and foot fetish hurts it but still a fun movie.

24. Bombshell- A important topic with good performances but felt it could have been done better.

25. The Lego Movie 2: The Second Part- It's not as good as the first but still fun and worth watching.

26. Joker- I mean Joaquin did do a great performance but he has done better and the story was a bit ehh. Possibly the most overrated movie of the year.

27. How To Train Your Dragon: The Hidden World: Beatufiul animation but the story and villian are lackluster.

28. A Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood- Worth it for Tom Hanks performance but the cliche story almost ruined it.

29. Fyre Fraud- A good story to tell that was told the right way.

30. Judy- Felt this could have been done way better if they focused on her childhood more but Renee is still good.

31. Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark- Kind of underrated but had a disappointing ending and some bad CGI.

32. Always Be My Maybe- Has one of the best cameos ever.

33. Doctor Sleep- Two scenes save this from being okay or bad but the rest of it is ehhhhhh.

34. Fighting With My Family- A cute story but feel like it could have been better if they told the real story instead of making up 40% of it.

35. Batman Hush- I think it's better than people say and didn't mind the change of the original but still kind of forgettable.

36. Detective Pikachu- Cuteness makes this one of the best video game movies of all time which doesn't say much.

37. Booksmart- Felt this should have been better but used the same tropes as most coming of age films do.

38. Yesterday- A cute story done in a unique way but nothing groundbreaking.

39. Wicked Shockingly Evil and Vile- The performance of Zach doesn't save it cause the story seems misdirected on what it wants to tell.

40. Glass- It's dumb and Bruce Willis is barely acting in this but still fun and a nice end even though some of it doesn't make sense.

41. Alita: Battle Angel: A good life action anime with a terrible love story in it.

42. Lion King- Was it pointless and way worse than the original? Yes but it was still pretty impressive to look at.

43. Childs Play- A unique way to tell the story but not sure it needed to be retold.

44. It Chapter Two- Wasn't really scary and kind of dumb except the birth mark part. But Bill Hader is sooo good in this!

45. Frozen 2- Probably the most disappointing film of the year. The story was a mess and borderline insulting to the original.

46. Dark Phoenix- The last action scene almost saved it but everything else was pretty bad.

47. Justice League vs. The Fatal Five- Everything is fine with this film except the Fatal Five. They were pretty boring.

48. Aladdin- Will Smith and Mena had good chemistry but still a pointless remake of a great film.

49. Beach Bum- Matthew does a fine performance but his character does something so bad and the film just treats it like whatever.

50. Pet Sematary- A pointless reboot of a great story. This takes everything great about it and makes it bland.

51. Culture Shock- A cliche Twlight Zone wannabe that had potenial but was disappointing.

52. Godzilla: King of the Monsters- The human characters were soooo bad but hey the monster fights were kind of fun

53. Wonder Woman Bloodlines- The beginning is pretty awful considering how they rushed it but the villian at the end nearly saves it.

54. Brightburn- How do you make such a lazy cliche film on such a interesting topic?

55. Dumbo- Dumbo was cute but everything else was pretty bad. WTF happened to you Tim Burton?

56. Reign Of Superman- Just as dumb as the comic.

57. Escape Room- Just as dumb as it sounds and predictable.

58. Happy Death Day 2U- Just because you're self aware how dumb this is doesn't make it any less dumb.

[heart-eyes-mf]

So

This is my first ever attempt at writing fanfiction. It’s just a one-shot type thing, where Neil receives a bunch of pictures and stuff from the FBI of his childhood and looks at it with some of the foxes and Andrew

Weeks ago, Neil Josten had left his past behind him for good, letting the memory of Nathaniel Wesninski bleed out in the back of a federal vehicle in the streets of Baltimore.

Or so he’d thought.

He held a cardboard box in his hands, the words of FBI Special Agent Browning still ringing in his ears.

“We found these in your father’s house,” Browning had said. “We analyzed them for anything relevant to the case and found nothing, but considering what’s on here, we thought you might want them.”

He didn’t sound like he particularly cared if Neil wanted them or not. His tone was short, a little impatient.

“What is it?” Neil asked warily, his bandaged face stony.

“Photos and some such,” Browning thrust the box toward Neil. “Look, kid, if you don’t want it, it’s going to collect dust in evidence lock up before being thrown away.”

Neil reluctantly took it, if only to get the agent out of his presence.

Now, he stood in the lounge, watching as his teammates rifled through it.

“Oh, my god,” Nicky exclaimed, brandishing a picture frame. “Look at this. You’re wearing ruffles! You were born to be gay.”

Neil rolled his eyes but looked at the photo. It was of a chubby toddler that Neil couldn’t quite place as himself: wispy auburn hair, big pale blue eyes, and a white ruffled shirt under a sky-blue sweater vest. Even more mystifying was the gummy, dimpled smile on his face.

“You were so cute,” Dan squealed, leaning over Matt’s shoulder. “What happened?”

“Torture,” Neil said drily.

Dan paled, looking sick, and seemed like she was preparing to launch herself at him in a barrage of hugs and apologies before Allison broke in from where she was sitting beside Renee at the table, riffling through a photo album.

“Why did a serial killing maniac have so many pictures of you? Didn’t he hate you?”

Nicky winced. “Nice and sensitive there, Allison.”

Allison glared at him.

“I’m wondering the same thing,” Neil admitted.

He looked at Andrew, silent and disinterested beside him. His chin rested on his hand, with his elbow on the table, the black armbands on his forearms peeking out from the cuffs of his dark hoodie. His hazel gaze was directed at the far wall and he showed no signs of being mentally present at all, but Neil knew that no matter how hard Andrew tried otherwise, he was processing and retaining everything that was happening.

“To keep his cover,” Kevin said clinically. “The Butcher of Baltimore masqueraded as a devoted family man. What kind of good father doesn’t have at least on picture of his son?”

“Is this your mother?” Renee’s voice was gentle but it didn’t need to be harsh or loud to attract attention. She held out a photograph of a woman with brown hair, a straight nose, and dark eyes. Her hair was pulled back into a severe ponytail and her bright red lips were twisted in a subtle sneer directed at whoever was taking the picture, her disdain obvious.

Neil just nodded.

The sight of his mother stirred up mixed feelings, feelings he thought he’d gotten over or repressed. Grief and hatred were a cocktail he was used to drinking but hadn’t tasted in a while and all he could do was feel it. For a moment he smelled smoke and felt the heat of fire and heard the sick rattle of her bones in the backpack he’d buried in the sand on that beach two years ago.

“What was her name?” Dan’s voice was gentle and it just hurt Neil more. Impassivity was a mask he clung desperately to, despite his promises not to lie to them.

“Mary Hatford,” Neil said quietly.

“I’m sure she was a lovely woman,” Matt said, almost a question.

He’d told them very little about what his relationship with his mother had been like after they’d come back from Baltimore. They’d asked him endless questions but mostly about himself and the questions they’d asked him about life on the run had mostly been about the locations and what had forced them to leave.

“You all would have hated her,” Neil said.

Matt and Dan looked surprised and Andrew turned his head toward Neil and Neil knew he was going to tell them everything because Andrew was listening. Andrew was curious.

“Did you hate her?” Andrew asked.

Neil looked at him and found Andrew’s gold-green gaze turned on him, apathy hiding immeasurable darkness. “I did for a long time,” Neil admitted. “It’s more complicated than that now.”

“Did you love her?” Nick asked sadly, clutching a few photographs to his chest. “Did she love you?”

“I don’t think so,” Neil said slowly.

Allison gave him a pitying look. “No wonder you’re so screwed up.”

“Allison,” Dan hissed.

Looking increasingly desperate, Nicky said, “She never said it? Have you? You have to love something.”

“No, she never said it,” Neil said. “What does that matter?”

“She’s your mom,” Nick persisted. “She raised you and protected you. That had to mean something, right? She had to love you.”

“I think--,” Matt started, looking extremely uncomfortable.

“Nicky,” Renee said softly. “You can’t compare Neil’s life and relationships and feelings to those of anyone else. He’s had a very complicated life. You can’t expect him to uncomplicate it just to reassure you.”

“There’s videos,” Kevin said suddenly.

“Let’s play them,” Matt said, looking relieved to be off the subject of Neil’s mother. Matt got up so quickly he almost knocked Dan over and hurried to the DVD player, having snatched the case from Kevin’s hands on the way.

Matt queued up the video and took his seat beside Dan, a remote clutched in his hand. He pushed play and Neil’s childhood was on the screen. Everyone watched, even Kevin and especially Andrew, as Neil’s life unfolded before them.

It started the day he was born, the date a little subtitle in the bottom left corner. Baby Neil squirmed and cried, looking red and mushy and wearing only a diaper.

“That looks gross,” Nicky exclaimed. Dan smacked his shoulder.

It showed him in his mother’s arms, which Mary looked like she barely tolerated, and Nathan wasn’t there at all.

It flashed straight to toddler Neil, taking slow steps towards Mary, babbling nonsense. Mary didn’t look happy but she didn’t look miserable either as her arms extended to catch him in case he fell. Even when she didn’t love him, she still protected him.

“There you go, Nathaniel,” Mary said, her British accent crisp. “Steady, now.”

“Your mom was British?” Matt asked, surprised.

Neil just nodded, his eyes on the screen.

The clips were short, scattered throughout the years. Whoever had filmed it had known that evidence, however minimal, was all that was needed. Probably Lola Malcolm or her brother Romero had filmed it for his father.

The videos of Mary were disconcerting to watch. It was hard to connect the young, healthy and alive woman he saw in the clips with his memories of a bloody corpse and charred bones.

But even more disturbing, to Neil’s teammates and to himself, was the videos of Neil with Nathan. Side by side their resemblance was startling.

There was a clip of Neil sitting on Nathan’s lap, looking up at his father with wide blue eyes, perhaps three or four years old. They had the same auburn hair and pale blue eyes but while Neil’s were blank with the oblivion of adolescence, Nathan’s were cold and unfeeling. No matter what false affection Nathan put into his voice for the video, one couldn’t look into his eyes and think that he felt anything at all.

“This is the letter N,” Nathan was saying to Neil, pointing at an alphabet picture book. “That’s the first letter of your name. Say it, N.”

Neil just looked up at Nathan. Even that young, he’d kept still and stiff and tried not to touch his father.

“N,” Nathan coaxed and Neil, old enough now, recognized the soft threat in his voice.

“N,” young Neil said.

           Matt paused the video.

           “Is anyone else creeped out?” he asked.

           “Majorly,” Nicky said.

           “No wonder you’re scared of your own reflection,” Allison said, slitting a look at Neil. “You don’t look anything like your mom, except your ridiculously stunted height.”

           “Do you remember any of this?” Dan asked, adjusting her weight on the arm of Matt’s chair with a hand on his shoulder.

           “I remember him acting like this sometimes, to keep up appearances,” Neil said. “I don’t remember ever being videotaped. The time I spent with my father was usually spent doing things a devoted father wouldn’t do with his son.”

           “What did you usually do?” Nick asked warily, looking like he already regretted the question.

           “He trained him,” Kevin said quietly. “To become the next Butcher of Baltimore.”

           “You cut people up?” Nicky asked, sounding horrified. “Oh, my god, weren’t you, like, ten?”

           “Eight, when we ran,” Neil said, nonplussed. “I didn’t touch people with knives but he did supervise while Lola taught me how to use them.”

           “Taught you on what?” Matt asked.

           “Dead animals,” Neil said.

           Dan looked like she might be sick. Renee gave him an unreadable glace and Andrew kept his gaze on the screen. “I’m just going to pass over that,” Matt said, looking green, and pointed the remote at the TV to play the video.

           It flashed to a video of Neil sitting in a dining room chair, the table level with his chin. Mary was on one side of him and Nathan on the other and they were watching as he tried various foods. Mary fed a piece of broccoli to him and his face immediately twisted and he spit it out onto the table. Mary, surprisingly, laughed.

           “There has to be some food you like,” Mary said, picking up a baby carrot. Neil spit that out too, looking at Mary with a look that could only be betrayal.

           “Yuck,” the Neil on screen said sincerely.

           “Try the fruit,” Nathan said, flashing a smile at the camera. No amount of false feeling could change the hard pull of his smile.

           Nathan fed a piece of strawberry into his mouth and Neil smiled.

           “Strawberries are a yes,” Nathan laughed.

           It changed again, to a video of Neil at about five or six. This video was a little grainy and from a distance. Mary was standing by the planes of an Exy court, looking fierce as she watched Neil running around on the court, looking remarkably small with a racquet in his hands.

           “Faster, Abram,” Mary shouted. “Run faster!”

           “Who’s Abram?” Nicky asked.

           “It’s Neil’s middle name,” Andrew, surprisingly, responded.

           The video abruptly ended, the screen turning dark. Neil sat there, his thoughts a little muddled, still trying to crawl out of feelings he didn’t know he had anymore.

           A text alert blared through the room, cutting through the short silence, and Nicky pulled his phone out of his pocket.

           “Aaron is done with his session with Betsy,” he announced. “He needs to be picked up.”

           Nicky gazed expectantly at Andrew but Andrew was still vacantly staring at the dark screen. He eventually rolled his eyes and tossed his hands in the hair and turned to Matt.

           “Can you take me to pick up Aaron?” Nicky asked.

           Matt nodded. “Dan needs to get back to her dorm anyways. She has an online quiz in an hour.”

           “I’m not staying with the monsters,” Allison said, sending a derisive glance at Andrew.

           They all filed out, even Renee, her rainbow hair swinging as she followed the clack of Allison’s hot pink high heels out of the room. Matt and Dan hugged Neil goodbye and Nicky tossed a fluttery wave of his shoulder as he sailed out the door.

           Andrew and Neil were left alone, sitting beside each other, watching the blank screen.

           Neil turned his gaze to Andrew, content just to look. Eventually Andrew looked back at him, but Neil knew he’d been aware of him the whole time.

           “Why wouldn’t they have liked your mother? Your teammates tend to like anybody, especially if they are damaged,” Andrew said. “And I am willing to wager that your mother was quite damaged.”

           “Our teammates. You haven’t guessed?” Neil asked. He leaned his head on his hand, his elbow on the table. “She hit me. You’d have killed her.”

           Andrew’s eyes darkened.

           “I would have killed her only if I cared,” Andrew said. “I hate you.”

           “You’d have cared,” Neil said, a smile pulling at his mouth. He leaned closer to Andrew, close enough to make him tense but not close enough to violate Andrew’s boundaries. “What percentage am I at now?”

           “It is not even worth counting anymore,” Andrew said. He slid rough fingers into Neil’s hair and pulled him the rest of the distance. His kiss was hard but skilled and tasted of cigarettes. Neil’s hands tightened around the arms of his chair and he leaned into Andrew, knowing the other man would hold him up. Andrew would always hold him up.

           Andrew pulled back slowly, his eyes dark and watching Neil’s face. Neil felt hot all over and breathless.

           “Junkie,” Andrew said, with a final tug on Neil’s hair before releasing him.

           “You like it,” Neil retorted.

           Andrew didn’t answer, just stood up.

           “Are you taking all of this back to our room?” Andrew gazed with disinterest at the photos spread across the table. He reached for one and tossed it with a flick of his wrist at Neil.

           Neil considered it.

           “Yeah,” he said. “I am.”

[mst3kproject]

Night of the Bloody Apes

I finally got back to this one after being distracted by Night Fright – and Night of the Bloody Apes is an excellent potential MST3K subject.  It’s got Mexican wrestlers, bloodthirsty ape-men, and Rene Cardona, the director of Santa Claus.  There’s a perfect stinger moment, too, when some old abuela comes across a corpse in the street and runs off screaming, oh!  A dead man! A dead man!  A dead man!

A wrestling match goes wrong and one of the contestants, Elena Gomez, hits her head on the concrete floor, leaving her in a long-term coma.  Her opponent, Lucy Osorio, is distraught, blaming herself, and vows to retire from wrestling as soon as her contract is up.  I bet you think that’s gonna be important, don’t you?

The actual plot involves Dr. Krallman and his assistant Goyo kidnapping a gorilla from a zoo so that he can transplant its heart into his dying son Julio (there is an explanation offered for how this will cure his leukemia, but trust me, it’s not worth repeating).  In real life, if a mad scientist gave you a gorilla’s heart your body would reject the organ and you would die – but this is a stupid Luchador movie, so Julio turns into an ape-man and goes on a murderous rampage instead, all in his pajamas and bare feet!  Even having read what I said above, I’m sure you still think Lucy’s gonna have to wrestle him, because where else could her plot possibly be going?  Joke’s on the audience, it’s going fucking nowhere.

In the opening scene, we meet Lucy and her boyfriend Arturo Martinez, see her put on her devil-themed mask, and watch the match in which her opponent is injured.  This still goes on a little longer than it should, but I cannot even express how much more interesting it is than the opening of Racket Girls.  The simple reason why is that we’ve met Lucy.  We know next to nothing about her, but we’ve at least heard her voice, and so we automatically go into the match rooting for her.  Then there’s the unexpected turn when what we anticipated as a moment of victory becomes a tragedy instead.  The music is absurdly overblown but other than that, this sequence is well-written and well-executed.

The rest of the movie is crap.

I’m sure you’re wondering what the subplot about Lucy and her injured friend has to do with the gorilla-man plot.  There are a couple of very thin threads between them.  Dr. Krallman is also treating Elena and eventually decides that he can declare her brain-dead and use her heart to replace the gorilla’s and cure Julio’s pithecanthropy (all the Greek I took in college was totally worth it to be able to coin that word). Arturo is a detective, investigating the murders the gorilla-man commits.  Lucy, however, is irrelevant – she’s just the place where Arturo’s story and Krallman’s happen to meet.  At the end her only role is to declare how sad the whole thing is.

The sound in this film is bizarre.  The voice acting is bland but not awful – the writing is awkward as hell.  When Arturo suggests that the murders are being committed by a beast-man, one of his colleagues declares (and this is word-for-word), “it’s more probable that of late, more and more you’re watching on your television many of those pictures of terror.”  That’s a line the writers of Gamera vs Guiron would have thrown out!  Meanwhile the music, as I already mentioned, is loud and bombastic, with screeching brass and ominous bassoon that sound like something from a melodramatic silent film.

The visuals are not for the weak of stomach. Julio’s heart transplant is represented by stock footage of actual heart surgery, with plenty of blood and bone and an actual human heart still twitching in the doctor’s fingers.  On the one hand, it probably looks way better than anything the film-makers could have managed on their effects budget and is definitely preferable to the Ed Wood Jail Bait approach.  On the other… I wonder who that patient was, and what he would think if he knew his heart operation ended up in Night of the Bloody Apes.  The murder scenes also tend to be gruesome, with lots of blood and some surprisingly graphic effects moments, like an eyeball popping out.  Despite being filmed in loving close-up, shots like the eyeball and a later scalping are stunningly unconvincing, especially with the actual surgery footage there to compare them to.

I’m not sure what this movie thinks about women. Lucy is a character who has goals and conflicts outside of men – Arturo does want her to retire from wrestling and marry him, but her reasons for actually doing so have more to do with Elena’s accident than with him.  Her trauma, the way the people around her dismiss it, and how she attempts to deal with it could have been the core of the movie if anyone had cared.  We don’t meet any of Elena’s other friends and are told that she has no family, so her death is a tragedy in its own right, rather than because of its effect on anybody else.

At the same time, women are something this film very much exploits.  We get a nice look at Lucy’s ass as she gets out of the shower, and Julio spends his gorilla-man rampages murdering and raping random women in long, leering, extremely distasteful shots.  None of these victims have names or backstories.  If we knew them at all, it might be hard to enjoy watching them killed.  I will say that at least they put up good fights – Victim One smashes a lamp over Julio’s head, and Victim Two kicks and thrashes so hard that the stunt guy in the gorilla-man makeup is having a hard time holding her down.  She also has the presence of mind to go seek help not just for herself but for her boyfriend, who she has no idea is already dead.  The grossest moment is when Krallman and Goyo prepare to remove Elena’s heart to transplant into Julio.  This woman is in a coma, and yet the camera lingers on her bare tits rising and falling as she breathes.

Between this stuff and the surgery footage, MST3K would have had no trouble making room for host sketches.  Hopefully one of them would have featured Crow and Servo in luchador masks.

There are several places where Night of the Bloody Apes comes perilously close to meaning something, but it always manages to swerve back into nonsense at the last minute.  For starters, the gorilla-man is supposed to represent Julio devolving into an animal, but like Bela Lugosi’s character in The Ape-Man, his actions are often all too human.  It is human women he seeks out to rape, after all, and killing them afterwards so they can’t tell who did it is a thing only a human being could do.  Too, with some of his later victims gorilla-Julio begins using tools, like knives, in a very human way, and the coroner states that the damage to the victims’ bodies is more characteristic of a human attack than an animal.  As in The Ape-Man, humans are always the most dangerous beast in the jungle.

There’s actually a fairly strong parallel drawn between Elena and Julio.  For the most part we see both of them lying quietly in hospital beds (at least before Julio’s transformation), helpless to do anything about their own situation. Both have a loved one who doesn’t want to give up on them, and both have suffered an injury that leads others to regard them as less than human.  The people the gorilla-man meets on the street see him as nothing but a monster, and Krallman fears he may be shot and killed before he can be cured.  Elena, meanwhile, is unlikely to come out of her coma, and so Krallman sees her as nothing but a potential source of spare parts. When she vanishes, the hospital staff are more worried about their reputation than they are her welfare.

Night of the Bloody Apes may be thought of as a movie about, of all things, informed consent.  We’re not told whether Elena consented to being an organ donor.  Since Goyo says that using her heart would be a crime, I will assume not, and she doesn’t have any family to consent for her.  Julio has no idea what his father plans to do to him to effect a cure and no idea of the possible consequences.  Is it right to take Elena’s heart without her permission if it’ll save Julio?  Is it right to perform an experimental surgery Julio doesn’t even know he needs if it’ll save his life?

The problem with all three of these themes is that the writers never seem to notice any of them!  They’re not interested in examining the line between human and animal violence, it’s just there to lead the police on the right trail.  They don’t see Elena and Julio as alike, nor do they try to confront the problem of medical ethics.  Or even if they did do these things intentionally, they don’t take them anywhere.

Night of the Bloody Apes is another one that would be fairly easy to re-write into a better movie.  For starters, the thing to do would be to set up Lucy and gorilla-Julio as opponents for each other – maybe she sees him attack somebody and tries to intervene, only to have the victim die in a way too close to what happened to Elena, leading her to decide she’s gonna track him down.  Her wrestling skills allow her to beat him, but Krallman begs her not to kill Julio and explains the situation, leading her to suggest using Elena’s heart.  This would allow her a way to come to terms with her friend’s death by knowing some good came out of it, and could get further into the idea of medical consent.  Julio’s final transformation could have come out of ‘how could you do this to me?’ anger at his father.

I wonder if there weren’t some earlier draft of Night of the Bloody Apes that was more like that, because with the movie as it stands I can’t understand why Lucy is the first character we meet when she ultimately does very little.  If I’m right, I guess they changed it because they thought nobody would watch a movie in which a woman does both physically and emotionally heroic things, but in the process they reduced their movie to scraps of what it could be.  In Lucy’s own closing words, it’s unfortunate.  Really sad.

[sirandking]

If you're still doing the fic au thing, then 24 (literally bumping into each other), and Andreil please

(isn’t that basically canon anyway)

from this list

When the light bulb inhis bathroom went out minutes after he moved into his new apartment, it was justanother inconvenience in the long list of problems that had been accumulatingsince Andrew was born. He had never been given a break before and he didn’texpect to be given one now. If it were anything other than the bathroom, he wouldn’tbother with it, but there was no window or other light source and he’d had enoughexperience using bathrooms in the dark as a teenager to ever want to do itagain.

So he left the boxes, whichhad been rooted through for essentials like cigarettes and the coffee machineand then left haphazardly across the floor, and stuffed his keys and walletinto his pocket for a trip to the dollar store down the street.

He forwent taking the stairsin favour of the elevator. His apartment was on the fifth floor of aseven-storey complex, chosen for a small balcony with a thick cement railing overlookinga dog park. It was by design, although perhaps not one Bee would approve of;she had expressed concern over the amount of time he had spent on the roofduring his last years at Palmetto and suggested that he might be fixating. Itdidn’t matter that that was his intention, she said, that he was waiting for theharrowing drop to the ground to hold the same trickle of fear it once did; heshould be working on healthy behaviours now so that when he did start feelingthings again, he would have a routine set up. Bee had always been moreoptimistic than Andrew.

When the elevatordoors slid open into the light of the atrium, he barely had time for his eyesto adjust before a flash of red and the smell of sweat assaulted him. Hereacted with the instincts he’d picked up from seven years of Exy and shovedhis shoulder into whoever it was, pushing back hard enough to send them crashingto the floor below.

“Fuck you,” a voicespat.

Andrew didn’t botherto look and see who he’d hit. He felt no remorse for a reaction that was out ofhis control and he had no interest in speaking to a stranger, even one he probably lived with. It had been a long time since a stranger had been ableto hold his attention longer than a second. He stepped over the body and letthe elevator doors slide shut behind him.

“Asshole,” he heard thevoice mutter right before the doors closed. He ignored it. 

He ignored the attendantat the front desk, and the woman who had to jump out of his way as he walkedonto the street, and everything else, except for light bulbs and discountchocolate bars. When a child started whining after he took the last bag ofM&M’s, he ignored her, too.

Asshole, his mind echoed. He ignored it.

It was a week beforehe saw red hair again. This time he was at the front desk waiting for the deskclerk to find a package from Renee containing two new armbands with what shecalled “tasteful embroidery,” leaning against the counter and playing solitaireon his phone.

“Here it is!” theclerk called several minutes later, popping out of the back room with a smallcardboard box. She had the kind of smile on that indicated that she wantednothing more than to be done with Andrew and go back to playing solitaire onher own phone.

Andrew took the boxfrom her and opened it on the counter, ignoring the way her face twitched, andpulled out the armbands, leaving the rest for her to deal with. She snatchedthe garbage from the counter and stalked off into the back room.

He inspected thearmbands as he walked, not caring to look where he was going. “Tastefulembroidery” wasn’t so far off; Renee had used a faint silver thread to sew adesign that had intricate roses and thorns that transformed into knives, spiralingaround the hems and up along the sheaths. He might send another pair to Reneelater and see what she came back with.

He was just turningthe corner to the elevators when he caught a flash of red in his peripheralvision and braced himself. Apparently the other person did, too, because when Andrewstruck an arm out, he hit an elbow instead of their chest.

“Ow,” the man said,and then, “What the fuck?” as Andrew used the opportunity to shove him into theground.

“Better luck nexttime,” Andrew said, already moving on to look for his armbands on the carpet.He’d had to sacrifice them to knock the man over.

“What good is luck againstinsanity?” The man pushed himself up from a forearm and dusted himself off,twisting the arm Andrew had hit to stretch out the muscle. He was wearingjogging shorts and a long sleeve shirt – an odd choice, in the middle of June.Andrew wondered if the scars on his arms matched the ones on his face, or if theywere more like Andrew’s. “Hey, I’m talking to you,” the man said when Andrew turnedaway, uninterested. He reached out for Andrew’s arm to stop him and a flash ofpanic, stronger than Andrew had felt in years, ran down his spine.

“Don’t,” Andrew said,already slipping a knife from his other armband, but there was no need: the manfroze inches above Andrew’s arm and met Andrew’s eyes searchingly. Andrew hatedthe understanding that he saw in the man’s face, as misguided as it was. Theman retrieved his arm slowly and reached down to pick up Andrew’s lostarmbands.

“Here,” he said,holding the armbands out for Andrew to take. “To complete your emo outfit.”

“They are for knives,”Andrew corrected, either to push for a reaction or test a theory; he wasn’tsure which.

“Right,” the man said,snorting. He didn’t sound particularly surprised. “Knives. Figures. You know, you’veknocked me over twice in one week now. Don’t you think it’d be fair toapologize?”

“Maybe,” Andrew said. “Butfairness does not usually waste time on men like us, does it?”

“Do they pay you to besuch an asshole, or do you just get off on it?”

Andrew looked over theman’s sharp features and cool glare and decided two minutes after throwing himto the ground was probably a bad time to proposition him, so he stowed acomment about what he really got off on in favour of stuffing the armbands intohis pocket. “What use is sugar-coating the truth?”

“What use is pissingpeople off?”

“Entertainment,”Andrew answered, and the man snorted again.

“I’m Neil. Apartment302,” he said.

“I didn’t ask.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Neilsaid. “I know who you are. Andrew Minyard,” he continued, at Andrew’s blankstare. “Highest-ranked goalkeeper in Class I Exy and the reason Kevin Day leftthe Ravens. And now you’re wasting your potential sitting in an apartment allday, watching TV or potting flowers for your balcony or something.”

“They’re for thekitchen,” Andrew said, just to be contrary. He should have figured Neil wouldbe another Exy junkie. He was cursed to keep running into them. And yet another one who thought Andrew had potential, noless. He wanted nothing more than to never see Neil again.

“Whatever,” Neil said.“I have to go finish my jog before I’m late for work. I’ll see you later.”

He jogged off towardsthe entrance with the ease of a runner and the tension of a man who wasn’tquite used to running without being chased. Andrew compared that to thejealousy in his voice when he talked about Andrew’s wasted potential, his darklook when Andrew had talked about fairness, his forced casualness at the mentionof knives.

Andrew had beenaccumulating a long list of problems since the day he was born, and he had nointerest in adding any more. He had taken on enough problems in university andall it had gotten him was a trail of broken promises and an apartment in a cityhe didn’t care about, biding his time until his body or his mind gave out. Hedidn’t have the energy nor the patience to deal with more inconveniences on topof the ones he already had.

Neil, though, hethought, as he waited for the elevator, feeling light in a way he hadn’t felt in months. Neil was a problem he might just try tosolve.

[nickireadstfc]

The Raven King, Chapter 10 – Really Just A Whole Lot Of Dialogue (or: the Thanksgiving Prelude)

In which we finally get the Beautiful Murderous Snowflake content we deserve, the canonical gayness picks up speed, past predictions are confirmed, future ones are wildly formed and Neil discovers his new Powers of Persuasion.

Sounds good? Then it’s time for Nicki to read The Raven King.

Hold yourselves – it’s not time for the epic Thanksgiving shenanigans y’all have been warning me about yet. Instead, we get a nice lil in-between chapter which really just consists of Neil talking to people.

Seriously. There is so much talking. This chapter is like 80% pure dialogue.

However, I am not minding one bit because –

MY PRAYERS HAVE BEEN ANSWERED.

THE RENEE CONTENT IS HERE.

Side note: I read this on the way to a convention while literally dressed as Renee. It was very, very surreal.

           “Last year Andrew took a few of us out to Eden’s Twilight one at a time,” Renee said. “You now know why Andrew invited Matt. He invited Dan to see if she was a woman worth following on the court. He asked me because he, like you, didn’t buy into this front.” She gestured at her face and rested her fingertips on her cross necklace. “He wanted the truth, so I told him.”

Oh, boy.

Oh, BOY.

Remember how I kept calling her my murderous snowflake earlier on?

Yeah. ABOUT THAT.

Apparently, Murderous Snowflake was in some pretty deep shit in a gang in Detroit – and we’re not talking the cute, ‘maybe we’ll spray a graffiti here or there’, squad-type gang, but the violent, ‘each of us owns a private collection of butterfly knives’, ‘they’re pretty sweet actually’, ‘also we’ll kill your family and your dog’, ‘with our butterfly knives’-type.

Fortunately for her, she got caught, had a nice lil time in juvie and was then adopted by Actual Angel Mom Stephanie Walker, despite the fact that her rebellious ass has tortured over a dozen foster people before her.

Also she’s responsible for the death of her mom and her boyfriend by putting them in jail where they were beaten to death.

Oh, what’s that? Oh, guys, this just in: I FREAKIN CALLED IT.

I AM AWESOME AT PREDICTING ALL THE THINGS.

Renee Walker, everybody - Murderous Snowflake, Cute But Deadly, Deliverer of Punches, Baker of Cookies, Owner of My Fucking Heart.

           Renee hadn’t exaggerated when she said she and Andrew were a lot alike. They had violent, unstable upbringings thanks to their mothers and spent time in both juvie and the foster system. Their paths split irrevocably after their respective adoptions. Renee let Stephanie shape her into a decent human being and atones for her past brutality whereas Andrew murdered his mother the first chance he got.

Ahh, it’s been way too long without any character parallels for me to cry over. <3

WHY ARE THE GOALIE BFFS THE BEST PLATONIC SHIP IN THIS ENTIRE SERIES MY HEART CAN’T HANDLE THIS.

Speaking of shipping!

My boy Neil apparently hasn’t gotten the ‘platonic’ memo yet.

           “Why haven’t you asked him out?” (…)

           “What is all this about, if you don’t mind me asking?” she asked. “You’ve never seemed interested before.”

Why do I have a hunch Renee will fucking captain the Andreil ship.

Anyone fancy some spontaneous Fox Feels™ in between?

           Neil grasped for a good way to explain. He didn’t want to tell her he’d spent Friday night thinking about dying. He hadn’t wanted to think about a future he didn’t have, so he stood at the railing and thought about his teammates instead. (…)

           They’d never be perfect, but they were going to be all right. They’d come to the Foxhole Court as fractured messes but they were fixing each other one semester at a time.

And if you look to your right, you’ll see me crying in a fucking corner.

I love :’( my fox babies :( so much :’(( what the fc u k k kkkkkk !!!!!!

I’ve just spent all weekend with a beautiful Andrew and Neil, my emotional ass is fresh out of feels hell and this has dragged me right the fuck back in.

           “If you can say ‘no’ so easily to me, why haven’t you set anyone else straight yet?”

           “It’s complicated,” Renee said, “and we profit more from silence.”

Apparently, the Goalie BFFs are also the Scamming BFFs as they cash in on bets made on them with Allison’s help.

You guys have no idea how much this amuses me.

It’s scamming for a good cause, in Renee’s case. Still. What a bunch of lil savvy shits <3

And then – this.

           “When I said I wasn’t Andrew’s type, I meant it. It’s not about my looks or faith. It’s that I’m a woman.”

I would have a really sweet surprised freakout over this, except for the fact that Andreil being endgame was the only fucking thing I knew about this series before starting it.

So I’m not exactly off my socks about this dramatic revelation.

Still – HELLO, MORE CANON GAY CHARACTERS. <3

           “Oh. Then Andrew and Kevin – “

           Renee laughed and waved that off. “Oh, no. You’ll meet Kevin’s girlfriend later this year, I’m sure.”

Aww. So glad to hear he and Exy made it official <3

No but for real. Kevin has a GIRLFRIEND?!?!?!?!

           “Kevin doesn’t have a girlfriend. He’s under too much scrutiny from the press and his fans to hide that sort of thing.”

And he’s also probably got an Exy ball where his romantic heart is supposed to be.

Funnily enough, my suggestions of Orange Sportsball being Kevin’s girlfriend turn out to be not that far off – he’s dating Thea Muldani, an Ex-raven who is now playing on the national Court.

I’m sure she’ll appear at some point later. I don’t actually care much about this as of yet. Next!

          He didn’t know what [Renee] and Andrew talked abut when they stood off by themselves. Thinking it was Exy strategies was laughable. Imaginig them having a serious conversation about Andrew’s closeted sexuality was equally impossible.

They talk about boys, knives, the hottest new all-black clothes and how best to scam their teammates. Duh.

Also headcanon that Andrew is the one who re-dyes Renee’s hair when her roots start to show up. Don’t question it. Just imagine it.

          “If you are as like us as we first predicted you to be, perhaps one day you can also come to see me as a friend. (…) Andrew understands me, and I him. It’s comforting knowing someone else has been where we once were. If either Andrew or I can help you, please know we are here.”

Did I mention I love Renee a heckin’ hell of a lot recently??

Did I??

DID I???????

          “Maybe now that I’ve sated your curiosity you can help me. I need a boy’s opinion on gifts for Aaron and Andrew. For their birthday – (…) they didn’t celebrate it last year, and Nicky says they haven’t celebrated it since they moved in together, but hopefully this one is different.”

TWINYARDS BIRTHDAY HECK YEAH.

I wanna know what mystery gifts Renee got them. I need to know.

Also, I hope they’re throwing them a surprise party. I can see entirely no way this can go wrong in the slightest. Oh well.

However, it’s not birthday time yet – and it’s also not Thanksgiving time yet, which a lot of you have been warning me about.

(Seriously. Y’all are MENTAL over it. What the fuck is happening on Thanksgiving. It can’t be that bad.)

(I have a feeling I’ll be eating my words in a few days’ time).

First, it’s time for – you guessed it – even more dialogue!

          “I’m two seconds away from being dead,” Nicky said. “Mom just called to wish Andrew and Aaron a happy birthday.”

Considering the fact that Nicky’s parents are Prime Grade A Assholes, this is not exactly peachy news.

          “Why did she call, really?” Neil asked.

          “To invite us home for Thanksgiving dinner.”

Whomp – there it is.

Seriously. What will happen. I’m so intrigued.

          “If I go to Andrew with this, he’ll either laugh me off or pretend he doesn’t hear me. But he listens to you, right?”

Hell yeah he does.

Neil, you are gifted with the mythical powers of Talking Andrew Into Anything. You have Persuasion Powers, Neil. Use your powers for good, Neil. Become to hero Palmetto deserves, Neil. NEIL.

          “I know they think I’m a heathen doomed to burn for eternity, and I know I should give up on them, but I can’t. Maybe this call means they’re coming around. I have to know. Please, Neil? I want my mom back. I miss her more than you know.”

NICKY :’(((((((((((((((((( <3333

I’ll be your mom okay, I’ll cuddle you always, I’ll make you pasta and your bedtime is never.

Of course, even Neil can’t resist our chatty sunshine hurting like this, and so he goes over to the murder kitten for some Fun Andreil Persuasion Talk Times.

          “Today’s not a good day,” Andrew said. “Try again tomorrow.”

          “I wouldn’t crash your birthday party if it wasn’t important.”

          Andrew grinned. “Sarcasm from Neil? Your repertoire of talents is ever-expanding.”

Bitch, were you not there in the two (2) chapters where Neil absolutely dragged and sarcasm-WRECKED Riko Raven-Fucker? Seriously, how is this news to you.

          “Tick tock,” Andrew said. “You have my attention, now keep my interest.”

          “Nicky’s mother called.”

          “Oops, time’s up.”

BAHAHAHAHA.

No, you actually have no idea how hard I laughed at that part.

Tagged: Me dealing with my problems like.

However, Andrew does start talking sense after a few rounds of distracted bantering, and suddenly Fun Andreil Persuasion Times turns into Fun Andrew Story Times:

          “She was not my mother. (…) Cass, though. Cass? Cass would have been.”

So apparently, this woman called Cass Spear wanted to adopt Andrew – and yup, that’s the wife of the guy Higgins is investigating right now, which is of course not worrying at all.

This also means Drake apparently isn’t a surname. This just got even more interesting. WHO THE HELL IS DRAKE.

Not you, Drake.

Anyways, said Cass wanted to adopt Andrew, wanted to care for him and give him a good future, all that jazz. And Luther (aka Nicky’s asshole dad) was totally fine with it – except apparently Andrew wasn’t.

Yet he said both Cass and Richard never did anything bad to him – which brings me back to who the fuck is Drake, because the obvious answer now is that this Drake person did something to him.

And whatever fuckery happened, Andrew told Luther – who flat out did not believe him and called it a ”misunderstanding”, hence Andrew’s dislike for that word. Cool, cool cool, cool shit, what is h a p p e n i n g.

          “So did Luther not believe you or did he say you were wrong?” Neil asked. “There is a significant difference between the two.”

          “Oh.” Andrew half-turned to face him again. “Sometimes I forget you are sharper than you look.”

Ya boy Neil gets it. I don’t know why, but I loved this little exchange a lot. It just?? They begin to understand each other?? Also Andrew doesn’t think Neil is a complete idiot?? Good shit.

And now I begin to see why y’all may like the Thanksgiving chapter so much:

          “Maybe he’s sorry.”

          “You say that because you haven’t met Luther,” Andrew said.

          “Can I?”

What.

          “It could be entertaining,” Neil said.

          “It could be,” Andrew allowed.

          “Let’s all go. (…) Imagine how uncomfortable Nicky’s parents will be if they have to contend with the five of us.”

Oh SHIT. This will be fun. This will be very, very fucking fun.

And just like this, Andrew agrees to Thanksgiving dinner with the Asshole Christians - if they don’t do it on Thanksgiving directly and if his monster squad can tag along. I am suddenly even more for this next chapter than I already was.

Neil, realizing his opportunity of having turned Fun Andreil Persuasion Times into Fun Andreil Honesty Times, can’t help but dash out another tricky question while he’s at it:

          “Did you really kill Aaron’s mother?” (…)

          “Guess she hit him one time too many. I warned her not to lay a hand on him, but she didn’t listen to me.”

I can’t say I’m surprised, but still – Andrew, what the frickely FUCK.

          “My first memories are of people dying,” Neil said. “I’m not afraid of you.”

          “That’s why you’re so interesting,” Andrew said. “How aggravating.”

          He sounded amused, not annoyed, so Neil said, “I’ll try to be more boring in the future.”

          “How considerate.”

Is this…….. Andreil banter……….. that I’m witnessing………. With my own two eyeballs………

AMAZING.

And with that, the conversation is over, and the chapter almost is as well – except, obviously my baby Nicky is over the fucking moon.

          He yanked Neil into a fierce hug before Neil thought to dodge. “Oh, you might just be the best thing to happen to the Foxes.”

          “I doubt that.”

          “I don’t.”

ME NEITHER MY DUDE. <33333333333

Also, that was probably the first time anyone hugged Neil since his mother died. And that’s the thought I’m leaving y’all with today.

If you like what I do here and you want to help me continue writing, please consider buying me a coffee! Thank you so much <3

[offbrandginger]

it’s too cold outside for angels to fly, chapter 1

A/N: The long-anticipated guardian angel!Andrew fic! Warnings for child abuse, though nothing too graphic.

Read on Ao3

Nathaniel Abram Wesninski is born on a blustery night in January to a mother with regret in her eyes and a father with danger in his smile. Andrew takes one look at the baby, crinkled and screaming and gross as newborns tend to be, and knows he’s going to be trouble.

“Trade me,” he orders Renee, whose current charge is a giggling delight of green eyes and tousled brown hair. Andrew knows Jean won’t be an untroubled kid - untroubled kids don’t need guardian angels. Still, learning French would probably be easier than trying to keep an eye on this brat.

“Now that wouldn’t be very fair to Jean, would it?” Renee smiles beatifically and Andrew rolls his eyes. “Besides,” Renee says as floats a little closer to peer down at the baby, who quiets and stares at her with wide eyes. "Nathaniel is a sweetie.”

Andrew frowns at the baby, who, apparently now disinterested in the glowing woman hovering over its crib, sticks its fist in its mouth. It looks over at Andrew, icy blue eyes piercing. Andrew’s frown deepens.

Renee turns back toward Andrew, a case file now in her hands. “I need to get back to Jean,” she says, and holds out the folder. Andrew glares at it. Renee sighs. “He needs you, Andrew.”

Andrew takes the folder. Renee smiles. The baby giggles, and Andrew glares at it.

“There are rules,” they told him when he woke up with aching wrists and the sun in his eyes. “You watch, and never touch and never harm. You can influence dreams. You can whisper, and they might hear you. When there are turning points, you can act. Guide them, and be redeemed.”

It sounded slightly less boring than the alternative, so Andrew agreed.

There are very few things that Andrew misses about being human. Ice cream, maybe. Fast cars. Cigarettes. Fuck, does he miss cigarettes. On the whole, however, he’s dismissed the entire human experience as frequently painful and generally useless.

By the time Nathaniel Abram Wesninski is eight months old, however, Andrew is, unfortunately, familiar with the fierce, foreign desire to be human, if only so he could kill Nathan Wesninski with his own two hands. A very un-angelic thought, perhaps, but clearly Andrew had been underestimating the sheer amount of trouble Nathaniel would be.

“I hate you,” Andrew tells Nathaniel one afternoon, when Nathan is out of the house. The baby babbles in agreement and reaches up for Andrew. Andrew doesn’t pick him up, couldn’t even if he wanted to.

Angels can look but never touch.

Instead, he points toward Nathaniel’s favorite rattle, lying a few feet away on the plush carpet of the empty living room. Attention diverted, Nathaniel crawls toward it and grabs it with delight. Andrew watches, of course. Knowing his luck, the fool kid would manage to brain himself against the coffee table the second Andrew looked away.

Nathaniel shakes the rattle furiously, and Andrew eyes it with distaste.

“Stop that,” he says.

Nathaniel continues to shake the rattle.

“I hate you,” Andrew says again. Nathaniel looks back at him then, his blue eyes as piercing as ever.

“Aaah-ooh,” Nathaniel says.

“Andrew,” Andrew corrects.

“Aaah-ooh,” Nathaniel repeats.

Andrew sighs. Nathaniel shakes his rattle.

The front door slams.

Nathaniel stops shaking the rattle.

“Mary!” Nathan’s voice booms through the house. “Mary!” Quieter, “where is that bitch?” Again, “MARY!”

Andrew stands up from the couch, a newly-materialized knife in his hand.

High-heels click across the kitchen floor, and Andrew catches a glimpse of Mary, holding her third glass of wine and looking thoroughly unhappy as she goes to answer her husband. “What?”

“Where’s Junior? Is dinner ready?”

“In the living room, and no.” The sound of skin hitting skin rings out. Mary continues, quieter, “it’s in the oven.”

Nathan must be satisfied with that because his heavy footsteps mark his progress down the hall and into the doorway of the living room. Nathan is a large man, over six feet tall and strong from his butchery. Andrew could take him; he’s much smaller than Nathan, but much faster and well-equipped with knives. Andrew could have taken him when he was human.

Now, he glares at the man, fingers clenched around his useless knife as Nathan scoops Nathaniel up from the floor.

“Hello, Junior.” Nathan grins and bounces the baby in his arms. There’s a streak of dried blood across his cheekbone. It’s not his own. “How’s my future heir doing?”

Andrew is across the room in an instant, pressing his blade into the vulnerable flesh of Nathan’s stomach. “He will never be like you,” he hisses venomously. “ Never . I won’t let him.”

Nathan continues to smile down at his son, oblivious. In the kitchen, Mary finishes the bottle of wine and starts on another. Nathaniel coos and grabs at the streak of blood on his father’s face.

Andrew throws his knife into the wall, suppressing a shout of rage. It sinks three inches into the plaster, but when Andrew pulls it out again, the wall is unmarked.

“‘Drew. Hey, ‘Drew.”

Andrew doesn’t need to sleep, technically. That doesn’t make being woken at 6 am by an over-enthusiastic four-year-old any easier.

He cracks one eye open to glare at his charge, who grins widely at him. “What.”

Nathaniel holds up two shirts for inspection. “Should I wear blue or red?”

“That’s orange,” Andrew informs him. “And I don’t care.”

Nathaniel frowns at the orange shirt. “Oh. I’ll wear this one, then.”

Andrew rolls over on the couch, turning his back on the boy as he pulls his pajama shirt off. He doesn’t need to be reminded of the bruises decorating Nathaniel’s chest, the marks of a failed dinner party. The marks of Andrew’s failure.

“Hey, ‘Drew. ‘Drew. Andrew. Hey, ‘Drew.”

Andrew resigns himself to being awake and sits up. Nathaniel, now clad in a terrible neon orange t-shirt, clambers up to sit next to him. “Lola’s coming over today,” Nathaniel says, swinging his feet.

Andrew glowers at the dead TV across from them. Nathaniel is reflected, distorted and grey-toned, on the screen. Andrew is not. “I know.”

Nathaniel, unintimidated by Andrew’s flat tone, continues eagerly. “I hope she gets me ice cream again. I liked the strawberry flavor and also the vanilla. I wonder if I can get strawberry and vanilla swirled together like strawberry and chocolate is. What’s your favorite ice cream flavor, ‘Drew?”

Andrew thinks. It’s been a very long time since he’s tasted ice cream. “Chocolate Rocky Road,” he says.

“Yuck.” Nathaniel sticks his tongue out. “That’s so sweet.” He kicks his feet against base of the couch. “I really like Lola. Mama hardly ever gets me ice cream. Lola’s nice.”

Andrew, who has seen what Lola gets up to in the basement alongside Nathan, disagrees, but keeps it to himself.

“If we do go get ice cream, you can come with us.” Andrew misses the days when Nathaniel couldn’t speak. “I can ask Lola to get some rocky road for you, since she can’t see you. She probably will, ‘cause she’s so ni-”

“Junior, who are you talking to?”

Andrew freezes. His breath catches in his lungs, his every muscle tense to the point of pain. Slowly, he turns. Nathan stands in the doorway, frowning at his son.

Before Andrew can stop him, Nathaniel slips off of the couch and trots over to stand in front of his father, smile gone. “I was talking to Andrew, sir.”

Nathan drops a heavy hand on his son’s shoulder, and Nathaniel flinches as Nathan’s thumb digs into one of the bruises on his shoulder. “And who is Andrew?” Nathan’s voice is silky-smooth.

“No,” Andrew says, or thinks, or screams.

“He’s my friend, sir,” Nathaniel smiles tentatively up at his father, fooled by his calm voice and blank face. “But nobody else can see him.”

“You have an imaginary friend,” Nathan says, more statement than a question.

Nathaniel frowns. “Well, no, sir, he’s real. Just no one can see-” He breaks off into a short, choked cry as Nathan grabs at his arms with bruising strength, his expression flushed with rage.

“No son of mine wastes time with imaginary friends, ” he spits the words. “Come on, Junior. We’re going down to the basement.”

Nathaniel pales. “No, sir, please, I- I’ll stop talking to Andrew, I swear! I don’t need a lesson!”

Andrew shouts, threatens, throws punches that go through flesh like air. Nathaniel struggles, cries, pleads for mercy. Nathan, strong and human, ignores them both as he drags Nathaniel into the basement.

Andrew follows, muttering promises of vengeance he can never keep. Andrew stays, hovering over Nathan’s shoulder and reminding Nathaniel that he can survive this, he’s strong and can survive everything. Andrew fades, can feel himself slipping out of visibility every time Nathaniel cries out in pain.

By the time Nathan is done, Nathaniel is no longer begging Andrew to help him.

By the time Nathan is done, Nathaniel doesn't say anything at all to Andrew.

[robincross]

if u take prompts: do u have any thoughts on raven!neil?

The first night of Nathaniel’s trial, Mart Hatford fails to get Nathaniel out without being seen and is executed in front of him by the Butcher. “this is what happens when you try and run Nathaniel” (he has nightmares of this and loud, sharp sounds tend to set this memory off, the sound of the cleaver hitting the floor)

Neil as a Wesninski, would have bought some form(not much tbh) form of safety in the way that he  wouldn’t get the worst of the treatment like Jean would(since jean was  simply debt repayment. And nathaniel wouldn’t be given to riko as some sort of toy.) the butcher’s son would be of value somewhere between kevin and jean(nearer to kevin).

Did this mean neil was untouchable(of course not). Did riko still try to break him? (of course he did) Did he succeed? (no.) Does he come close to it? (always, it’s pure spite that keeps him from doing so. It’s the memory of his mother death.)

Also, whatever hopes he had of his new ‘friends’, mainly riko, goes at the window because the asshole says something like, ‘what a stupid woman, she thought she could take you away from us?” full of grief and anger and all caution aside, Nathaniel fucking lunges at riko to beat the shit out of him. He gets some good hits in but he’s punished bc he laid a hand on riko. (he later learns that the man his father butchered was an assassination attempt on riko. Nathaniel hates the man for failing (based on extra content))

He’s allowed to continue his trial when he heals(kevin visits him to try and give him some advice  but he wants none of that). The day of the trial he focuses all his energy on not letting Riko score. (Nathaniel is fast but he needs to be faster cue his obsession with needing to run and being faster than anyone) He passes his trial.

(maybe if he and his mother had been faster at sneaking away, maybe, maybe she would still be alive. Faster.) it’s the thought in the back of his head.

“I wanted to beat him at his own game.” His views shift a little closer to renee’s and andrew’s. It’s not in knives that he wants to beat riko in, it’s exy. But, it’s rather  hard to do that when you’re both on the same team. Hmmm…

He hates riko. He hates he moriyamas. He hates his father. He’s     terrified of his father (and nothing can come close to it, not the master   nor riko. Not when he watched his father splits a man into. Not when he   saw him kill his mother.) He can’t figure out his feelings towards kevin yet. He wants to hate him to because he’s close to riko. But not when he reaches out to defend him, to put himself between riko and nathaniel.  (kevin’s ingrained fear of riko isn’t instant and happens over the course of the years as does riko’s cruelty. I mean riko has always been a grade A asshole, it’s like a positive exponential growth curve over the years, but his jealousy of kevin definitely feeds into it a lot).

Kevin sympathizes with neil because he knows what it’s like to lose a mother.

Nathaniel later learns that kevin’s mother died in a car crash. He can’t help but think of hisown mother and wonders if in fact, it was just an accident. It keeps gnawing at him. Given sometime(maybe a few years), Nathaniel uses this to try and incite Kevin when he sees him giving into riko too easily. ‘the moriyama’s killed your mother, Kevin. Everything is too convenient, don’t you see?”

“stop it. they wouldn’t.”  “just like they would never kill mine, right?”

Shit really hits the fan between kevin and nathaniel when nathaniel finds out whose kevin real father. Because in nathaniel’s eyes this is kevin’s out. He has a father. He can get away from the  moriyama’s. “if  you really think they killed my mother, what do you think they will do to him?” it’s the first real insight that nathaniel is starting to get to     kevin. But he can never quite seem to completely reach him.

Exy is still his lifeline. It’s the one thing he is willing to live for bc this boy still has nothing. But, he has Kevin and Jean and that has to count for something, right? Exy. Kevin. Jean. So, why does he still feel like nothing?

Nathaniel and jean are very close. Jean comes sometime after neil does. And jean is so angry and it reminds neil of himself. More than once Nathaniel has put himself  between riko and jean. More than once he has paid the price. When Jean officially joins the ravens, he has double practice with his own raven partner on the  field and with Nathaniel since they are meant to be partnered in the future. Also, Nathaniel is number 3 and jean is 4.

More on jean: jean was fucking angry when his family just dropped him off at the evermore. (I’m basing this off the jean extra content btw) He hates riko, kevin, and neil, everyone. Neil understood his anger and it takes him a while before he’s able to earn jean’s trust. A little longer to earn Kevin’s. (with neil at his side, it takes longer for riko to break jean down bc jean just needs someone by his side telling him not to give in to this asshole)

Still the instigator, but he knows how to pick his battles better especially with riko and the master. Calculating the punishment and is it worth it. (his mouth still gets away from him though)

Nathaniel survives day to day(different form the manner he survived on the run) but he still bears scars, lots and lots of scars from riko’s knives and from lola’s lessons, from the master’s beatings. He still knows pain better than anyone should.

Eventually, when he finally  transfers to the Foxes, his name would be Abram (since ‘neil’ would mean  nothing to since he never ran, but abram would)

‘I don’t want to be Nathaniel anymore.’ ‘it doesn’t suit you anyways.’ ‘Abram. Call me abram.’

[docsamurai]

Sleeping With the Enemy: Breaking Dawn

It has been some time since my last update. Even after everything that had happened before I still find it hard to believe the twisted lengths Carlisle and his minions would go to see their madness through. Let's start where we left off: the wedding. The Cullens were as unimaginative as ever and Edward and I were married in a fairy tale ceremony in the woods near their home. I dreamed that night of raining blood, it was enough to get me through the ceremony. As much as I hated having to go through this it was at least nice to see my friends and family one last time before I was turned. Jacob even showed up during the reception and I was glad he had shown enough restraint to not try anything foolish to disrupt my plans though he still tried to warn me that Edward would kill me on our honeymoon. I still don't know how he can be so dense to not understand that if they wanted me dead that I would have died a long time ago.

For the honeymoon we flew down to a private island that Carlisle had bought and named for his wife Esme. I feel I should mention that Esme is around the same age as the rest of the Cullens. It was only Carlisle who was centuries older than the rest. How many times had he tossed families aside to create a new batch of Cullens?

We went through the charade of the happy newlyweds as Edward attempted to be romantic with a moonlit beach and candles. At this point I actually think I might prefer for him to think I'm a lovestruck idiot because the alternative is that he actually does love me and that might disgust me more than anything. He forced himself on me that night. I acted willing enough but there was no way to overcome my disgust with him and his icy touch did more to repulse me than anything else. Edward had told me once that he had never "made love" to a woman. I had thought he was either lying outright or simply meant that he had never felt love for the women he fucked. After that night I was convinced that was his first time.

The next day he acted horrified at a bruise left on my arm he had left while "in the throes of passion". Thankfully I wasn't facing him as he said that because even after everything else I couldn't stop myself from rolling my eyes. I was so grateful that he wouldn't force himself on me again that I didn't question it at first. It took a week for me to finally realize something was wrong when I felt sick. I didn't want to believe it, they had told me vampires couldn't breed. I chalked it up to having to spend so much time with Edward. He took me again that night, probably to make sure. Another week passed and the signs were unmistakable. I called Carlisle directly and could almost hear his fanged smile over the phone.

This had been their trap all along! They never intended to turn me, only to create a Vampire-human hybrid. An immortal hunter with no fear or weakness who owed its very existence to Carlisle and his twisted family. Carlisle knew as soon as I had asked to be changed that I wouldn't go along with their plans. He knew when I allied with the wolves that I was to be reckoned with. He knew when I agreed to be married that I would go to any lengths to get what I needed. He knew just what to tell me to get exactly what he wanted. And I had let myself be led into his trap.

It was no longer about vengeance, it was no longer about justice, the only thing I could do was stop this abomination from coming into the world. I could not let this happen and if I had to die to do it then that would be exactly what I did. Before I could find something to end it Edward had already packed the bags and was ushering me out the door. Naturally they had worked for years to create this thing, they weren't going to let me destroy it and their plans that easily. I knew before we were even on the plane that it would be pointless to openly search the house for knives or pills as I would be under constant watch. As much as it horrified me, I saw no other option but to play along and hope they dropped their guard.

It almost worked too. Over the next week the creature inside me drained me, feasting on my blood and making me sicker with each passing hour. It was growing unnaturally fast for a human and would be ready to be released in a matter of weeks. Jacob came to check on me and see if the Cullens had broken the pact with the Tribe by turning me. He saw my weakened state and begged me not to keep it. I had never been so furious at Jacob for being so goddamn dense. I begged him silently staring deep into his eyes. If I could have spoken I would have implored him to change and kill me. I knew it would mean his death too but the creature in my womb would be the death of everything if it wasn't stopped. Unfortunately Jacob couldn't pick up on my pleas and left saying that he would return with the pack to kill them and the child if it killed me.

The next day I was so delirious from the blood loss that I actually drank the blood the Vampires gave me to sustain the child long enough for me to birth it. Even with the blood though it was destroying me from the inside out, growing rapidly, feasting on me when it couldn't get enough blood elsewhere and breaking my ribs as it grew not only in size but strength. Four weeks to the day that it was conceived, I went into labor as the hybrid broke my spine. There was no surgical precision as the Vampires tore my stomach open using their fangs to deliver it via caesarean. I died too weak to curse the Cullens as my blood poured from my mouth and stomach.

I awoke three days later, astonished that they had actually gone through the process of changing me. Maybe it was accidental and when Edward had used his fangs he may have infected me with his curse. Maybe they realized they were so far removed from their humanity that they were incapable of raising a child. Maybe Edward really was a big enough fool to love me. Either way I was renewed. Finally I felt the power I had sought for years. Finally I would be able to destroy my tormentors and I would even be able to remove the hybrid stain. I also felt the thirst.

For the first time I fully comprehended the monstrous thirst for blood. With my enhanced senses I could smell the blood of the animals of the forest surrounding the house. Edward and I went out to hunt and that's when I smelled human blood for the first time, it was intoxicating. A rock climber was working his way up a nearby cliff face. Undoubtedly this was Carlisle's doing, hoping that I would feed on a human and through that act of savagery I would fall into his clutches. He had cut himself on an outcrop and had fresh blood dripping down his arm as the wind whipped past him and carried the scent to me. Even from a mile off the smell of him was delicious. To this day I carry the shame that I felt that day when I knew how badly I wanted to drink that man's blood. Part of me tried to rationalize it: "If you drink his blood it will strengthen you enough to take them on, you can't fight all of them unless you're at full strength. If you don't kill him one of the Cullens will anyway. It would be a waste to let them have the blood when it could benefit you. Do it." Edward saw the hiker too. My nerves were on fire, I needed that blood more than anything.

Suddenly an opportunity appeared and I lunged. I had resisted killing that human and instead had killed a mountain lion that I had noticed just in time. Edward was amazed that I had resisted the call of human blood. On my first day as vampire I was already proving myself more in control than the blood crazed Cullens who could barely keep from attacking me on my birthday. For a moment I let the satisfaction of seeing the astonishment on his face wash over. My adrenaline was high, I finally had the power I needed and I had just sated my appetite without giving away my humanity. Nothing would ever get in my way again. I was in such a good mood I decided I could wait to kill Edward, besides, I wanted to make sure he watched his brethren die.

We went back to the house so I could meet the Child for the first time. She had been named for our mothers… Shit, I just realized I already told you that their names were Renee and Esme… Those aren't their real names but I can't think of a way to combine Renee and Esme that doesn't sound ridiculous. I know it will sound odd but I'm just going to call her Renesmee for simplicity's sake. I wouldn't even name a half vampire abomination something that stupid.

Anyway, back at the house I met… Renesmee… for the first time. I don't know how much of it was the hormones from the pregnancy, assuming that those even applied under the circumstances, but I didn't hate her. I couldn't hate her. I wanted to hate her, but she was just an innocent, like so many others. She had killed me, but it was because of her that I finally have the power I sought and I felt that as long as I could protect her from Carlisle's plans that there might be enough human in her that she wouldn't have to be a monster. I could be that monster for her. I could protect her from the Cullens.

I was genuinely surprised to find Jacob there, caring for my daughter. I hadn't thought about it yet but I suddenly realized that he should have been dead or have killed the Cullens. Jacob told me that he had imprinted on Renesmee, he had explained this process once, something wolves went through when they found someone they would bond to for life. At first I couldn't believe what I was hearing, that this full grown man had bonded with an infant, but as soon as I started to lose my temper with him I realized that he had finally had a decent idea. Jacob had seen me dead and the sight had broken him. Finally realizing the error of his ways he knew that he had to defy the Cullens but couldn't fight them by himself and instead found a way to keep himself close to the baby, ready to strike when the opportunity presented itself. Inwardly I smiled and found a new respect for an old friend who finally understood the world I had lived in for years. Outwardly of course I had to keep up his "imprint" ploy and acted disgusted with him but allowed him to stay.

With my friend and ally close at hand we were still watched closely by the Cullens and Jacob and I had to keep up our respective acts though it was easier with him around. I also found myself growing attached to the Cullen women. Esme, Rosalie and Alice all took turns helping me with the baby and I started to notice the way they all had their own handlers the way I had Edward. Finally their stories had made sense. Each of them had been coerced in their own way into becoming vampires. Rosalie had been "saved" by Carlisle. Alice had been sent to a mental hospital due to her psychic visions and had been turned while there, finding out later that she had been declared dead when she was sent the intuition in the first place. Even Esme had attempted suicide only to be drawn back from the brink of death by Carlisle turning her when she came to the morgue he was working in. Each of them had been robbed of their futures, had their lives, deaths and continued existence orchestrated by the mastermind of the Cullen clan. We were all under constant surveillance but we found ways to communicate right underneath our captor's nose. A time would come soon when I would need all the allies I could get and I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that the other women would be there to help me kill Carlisle when the time came.

Days pass into weeks and weeks pass into months before our plan is ready. Alice fakes having a vision of the Volturi coming to kill Renesmee for being a violation of vampire law and tells Carlisle. Carlisle had come to trust Alice's visions and decided to summon his forces while ordering her to go with her keeper Jasper on a private mission. Vampires began appearing from all over the world, preparing for open conflict against the Volturi, who in kind gathered their own forces fearing that Carlisle was trying to wipe them out. As more and more of the new vampires flood in I realize the ugly truth: the Cullen clan is far from unique. Vampires from all over the world show up to fight and if a woman does come to fight it's almost always with a male keeper.

The war finally began on New Year's Eve as the Cullens and their forces meet the Volturi for open battle in the mountains. Edward and I attempt to broker peace for the sake of my daughter though I was buying as much time as I could for Alice to return. Just as the tensions reached their breaking point she returned from her mission. Carlisle had sent her to retrieve his secret weapon: another hybrid that had been accidentally created nearly 150 years prior. Carlisle had hidden its existence from the Volturi for over a century and had been trying to recreate the process ever since. Alice promised the Volturi to show them a vision of the battle, of Renesmee's future and why this fight was pointless. When she made contact with the Volturi leader Aro instead she showed him our true plan: we had staged the fight to gauge Carlisle's forces and would soon kill him leaving the Volturi free. As long as the Volturi spared us the fight we would remove Carlisle's control and leave them alone. Naturally Alice had left out that it was only a matter of time before we came for them as well. Aro gazed in wonder at the visions Alice had showed him before becoming delighted that he would finally be free of Carlisle's control. As he commanded his forces to back down one of his own objected and was subsequently destroyed without a second thought.

The battle was done, Carlisle's forces were exposed and he would have no one coming to his aid when we came for him. It had been a long time coming but things were finally in place. Carlisle would die tonight.

[andrewjos10]

The Definition of Overkill

Prompt: "I was chilling in my room when you knocked on my window asking me if I could come kill a spider for you. I LIVE ON THE FIFTH FLOOR HOW WAS THE WINDOW A GOOD IDEA TO YOU." 

http://archiveofourown.org/works/10085483

Neil's not shy about admitting that he's afraid of a lot of things.

When you've lived the life he has, when every waking moment for a decade and a half has been run, hide, stay alive, it's a reasonable thing. If you're afraid, you're careful, and if you're careful you survive. But, in general, Neil's fears are pretty logical. He's afraid of knives, enclosed spaces, fire, his father, his father's people, the people his father was working for-

More recently, Neil is afraid of dashboard lighters, being tied down, having his legs damaged- He's afraid of people seeing his scars and asking questions, and he's afraid of being real. All in all, pretty reasonable things.

Neil is not afraid of spiders. If when he was six or seven he'd scream at the sight of them, it was surely beaten out of him. If when he was fourteen or fifteen he complained about spiders crawling in his clothes, it was surely drilled into his head that there were worse things in the world, like his father, like his mother's anger-

Either way, Neil is not afraid of spiders. If one gets in his apartment, he's quick to dispatch it, usually with a swatted newspaper. He's only been living here for three months, but it's the nicest place he's ever stayed. There's a clean bed to sleep on, food in his fridge, and an inconspicuous job that he goes to faithfully, day after day. With his father in a grave and the Witness Protection Program shielding him from retribution, some days Neil almost feels safe. It doesn't mean he stops looking constantly over his shoulder, it doesn't mean he stops checking exits, but it does mean that sometimes when his overeager coworker Matt asks Neil out for drinks, he accepts.

They'd gone out the previous night, and it had actually been fun. Matt's wife Dan was a fierce inferno of a woman, and their friend Allison from marketing had just the right amount of sass for Neil to enjoy her company. Renee, Allison's girlfriend, had set off all of Neil's danger warnings, but he had dealt with it for the night.

Now, the morning after, Neil regrets ever leaving his house.

Maybe, if he'd been home, he could've prevented this.

"This" is a spider. Spider isn't really a fair term for it though. It's the size of a dinner plate, huge and hairy and Neil has to hold in a scream. He's faced down the Butcher of Baltimore, been stabbed, shot, tortured, and much more. He thinks, given the choice between this spider and his father he- would still choose the spider, but he would at least stop to think about it.

It had been a good morning up to this point. The sun had woken him pleasantly early, and he'd felt relaxed and happy. Slipping on his running clothes, he'd been about ready to go for a jog, a strange warmth making his bones heavy in a good way.

And now, this. The worst part of the whole thing, Neil thinks, is that the spider is perched directly above the front door.

That's one exit down.

It looks like it's watching him. With its many, many eyes. Neil goes for the secondary exit, moving as fast as he can through the kitchen without taking his eyes off the spider in case it pounces.

The window slams shut after him with a resounding thud. Visible through the glass, the spider doesn't shift.

Neil catches his breath, leaning against the side of the building. His apartment is only three stories up, and the fire escape has served as his refuge the past three months. When the walls closed in on him, the weight of a brand new future far too much- this is when Neil retreated to the fire escape.

On reflex he glances up, checking to see if 5th floor is outside this morning too.

5th floor is the only other person Neil has seen out on the fire escape. From what Neil can tell from the bad angle, 5th is blond, small, and overly fond of the color black. They've never spoken, even though 5th clearly knows Neil is there. He catches him staring only once, but Neil knows how to recognize eyes on his back. Their silence is almost companionable, and they end up sitting together more often than not.

5th smokes far too many cigarettes, and Neil would judge him for it if he wasn't doing the same. The smell grounds him, reminds him of his mother and his promise to survive. Neil thinks 5th might even smoke the same brand.

Unfortunately, 5th isn't out there this morning. It's a bit early, but it's not unheard of for him to be awake.

Neil glances back through the window and the spider is still there. Watching him.

Mind made up, he clambers up the fire escape.

By the time he reaches 5th's window, he regrets the climb. What's he supposed to say? "Hey, I know we've never spoken and I don't even know your name, but could you come help me with the Godzilla spider in my apartment?"

Despite himself, Neil knocks. Through the glass he can see a kitchen that's neat, tidy, and chrome, a near perfect match for his own. When there's no movement in the apartment, Neil's stomach starts to sink. 5th might not even be home. What the hell does he do now? Does he call someone? Who would he even call? He can hear Matt laughing at him now.

Just as Neil is about to give up and resign himself to the embarrassment, a small, black-clad form stalks into the kitchen. It's definitely 5th. Neil would recognize that glower anywhere. He's strangely fascinating up close. There's a lot of muscle for such a short man, and definitely an air of danger in the sharp jaw.

Then 5th rips the window open and says very, very calmly. "What the fuck do you want."

Neil opens and closes his mouth a few times, fumbling for the words. "There's a really big spider in my apartment."

5th slowly raises an eyebrow, expression not shifting in the slightest. "And."

Neil swallows his pride. "Could you help me kill it please?"

5th's expression shutters. "I don't like that word. Don't use it."

Neil frowns in confusion, a hand coming up to scratch at the scar tissue on his face. "Okay. Will you come?"

5th watches him for a long moment. "We are on the fifth floor," he says, blank. "What were you going to do if I didn't answer."

Neil shrugs. "Call someone I guess."

5th stares at him a little longer and sighs. "I could shove you off this fire escape."

Neil stares at him hopefully. "I would take you down with me."

5th sighs even louder. "Okay. Move."

Obediently, Neil scrambles back down the fire escape. Against all expectations, 5th follows him. Back on his own landing, Neil checks through the window to make sure the monster hasn't moved. Nope. Still watching him with those creepy, creepy eyes.

Neil takes a deep breath and slides up his window, 5th following a respectable distance behind, one hand on his black armbands. Neil refuses to step away from the window, and 5th's eyes fix on the problem immediately. They widen slightly. "What the actual fuck."

Neil shrugs, looking at 5th while keeping the spider in his peripheral vision. "It was there when I woke up this morning."

"Bird-eating spiders are native to South America." 5th is staring intently at the spider, his voice slightly bemused.

"Escaped exotic pet?" Neil offers. 5th cuts him an unamused glare. They both look back at the spider and in response it moves a foot down the wall. With those long legs, it's only a single step. Neil tenses further, if it's possible. His weight shifts on the balls of his feet and he's ready to run. Even 5th looks unnerved, something hard around the corners of his eyes.

"Fuck this." 5th says flatly, and slides a blade out his armbands. Neil has flash of instinctive terror before the knife is flying across the room. It hits the spider right in the thick of its body and impales it into the wall. Watching it die, Neil thinks dimly that he's probably not getting the deposit back on the apartment.

5th watches its twitching stop with something bordering on satisfaction.

"I don't- thanks." Neil says weakly. Neither of them makes a move to retrieve the knife. 5th stares at him. Neil stares back. "Oh yeah. I'm Neil."

5th flicks his eyes away, adjusting his armbands. "Andrew."

It's awkward, now that there's no emergency. Neil tries to imagine what Matt would tell him to do. How to befriend someone after they basically save your life, Matt style.

"Could I buy you a coffee?"

Andrew's eyes swing back to his, something calculating in them. He looks Neil up and down, fixating on the messy scar tissue on his cheeks.

"Hot chocolate. There's a place a block from here. You have ten minutes." Andrew walks across the room and pries his knife out of the wall. The spider falls to the ground in a sloppy pile of limbs.

He disappears back onto the fire escape, and Neil half-smiles into his empty apartment.

Then he remembers he needs to get rid of the body and curses Andrew all over again.