#The next match I go against a newer team and am so surprised how QUIET it is for the first minute

[skyplayssplatoon3]

People seem quite surprised in my last post about the healthy mindset tips! I can 100% confirm:

There is NO actual ranked-based matchmaking in Splatoon 3, not even Anarchy Mode

There were screenshots of people in B Rank being paired up with S+ Badges early on, and so far I believe that is still 100% the case for many people

I've heard the game may try to find people closer in rank sometimes, but other than that, it's all luck of the draw.

So don't take it out on yourself if you have bad games!! Chances are, especially if you aren't S+/X Rank yourself, you just got unlucky and thrown against the REAL sweats of the game

[voyager-into-the-unknown]

Part 6 of my Plance fanfic series is inspired by the song “Lucky” as sung by Lance’s voice actor, Jeremy Shada. Get ready for intimacy, hilarity, and the fluffiest of fluff in Pidge’s room. Lance and Pidge sing in this chapter. Guest starring Bae Bae and the Trash Floofs. (That might be a good name for their band if they decide to start one.)

https://youtu.be/6Sn_O9vDlR0

Part 6: An Intimate Moment in the Bedroom

Lance had been in Pidge’s room before, both on the castleship and onboard the Atlas. It was always a mess of odds and ends from computers, robots, and unidentifiable alien technology. There were clothes strewn about (Paladin gear, Garrison uniform parts, or her brother’s old hand-me-downs), and a couple of fluffy trash nebula creatures floating around. Her pets, she called them, but she wouldn’t ever tell anyone their names. When Pidge opened the door, he wasn’t prepared for the sight before him.

There were books and video games neatly lined up on bookshelves, a tidy desk and chair, many photos in frames and a few posters on the walls. There were model spaceships and robots on display, along with a teddy bear and a mermaid plushie. There were wall decorations of distant stars and planets, matching her bedspread, which was patterned with constellations from Earth’s night sky. There was a television with a gaming console, a computer, various small electronic devices, and a telescope. She also had a little collection of perfume bottles, makeup containers, hair accessories, a jewelry box, and so many other cute girly things that Lance almost thought they might have entered the wrong room. He realized then, that he had only really seen Pidge Gunderson’s room. This was the bedroom of Katie Holt.

Lance stood there for a moment, just taking it all in, while Bae Bae darted in through the open door. There were old photos of the Holt family when Matt and Katie were little, and some from when they were a bit older, including several taken on the launch day of the ill-fated Kerebos mission. There was a newer family photo taken on board the Atlas, and an amusing one of the Holts in costume, taken at the Clear Day celebration. There were many photos of the Paladins as well, some taken onboard the Castle of Lions, others onboard the Atlas, and many from the various planets that they had visited. In nearly every single one of them Lance saw himself standing next to Pidge, often with one arm casually draped around her shoulders. She was always beaming at the camera or laughing in every picture of the two of them together. He smiled at the happy memories that the photos captured. She probably had many other pictures of the Voltron team, but she displayed only those particular photographs for a reason, as if to cherish those particular moments. Lance felt another pang of guilt when he saw those mementos, regretting how he wasted so much time in those days, flirting with strange females he barely even knew, when he should have been paying more attention to the amazing girl who had been by his side the entire time. Hunk’s words came back to haunt him. “She’s had a crush on you since forever,” and “She’s cried herself to sleep over you a thousand times.” Lance hated himself for not noticing her sooner, and thought maybe the Holts should have been even more protective of their daughter. He didn’t deserve her.

“You’re awfully quiet.” Pidge looked at him, concerned.

“You’re room isn’t what I expected. I’m just...overwhelmed. That’s all.”

“You think it’s too girly, right?”

“It is girly, but you’re a girl, so that’s perfectly natural.”

“But you don’t like it,” she said dejectedly.

“No! It’s just the opposite, really. I love this room. It’s really cute. In fact, if I ever have a little girl of my own someday, I would want her to have a room as cute as this one.” He was still staring at everything. He had just picked up a framed photo of himself, Pidge, and Kaltenecker that made him smile fondly. Pidge’s fluffy blue and green trash nebula friends floated over his shoulder, as if to admire the photo with him.

“A little girl? You’re already thinking about starting a family?”

“What?! Oh...” Lance’s face felt warmer than usual. He nervously set the photo back down. “Oh, uh, yeah...I’d like to have a family of my own someday.” He couldn’t believe he had just admitted that out loud. He dared to steal a glance at her, and when their eyes met, he could not look away.

Pidge looked at him with a soft expression, her lips slightly parted and her golden brown eyes wide with surprise. She was small and vulnerable, and at the same time, she was also his Pidge—strong and tough, courageous and brilliant, but still so very young and innocent. For a fleeting moment, in his mind’s eye, she was more beautiful, more radiant, more dazzling than every star in the sky. “I want a family with you,” he admitted. “Someday...I mean, if that’s what you want, too.” It was if his mouth had a mind of its own. The blue and green space pets seemed to be blushing right along with him, as if feeling empathy for his discomfort.

She smiled at him, then looked down at the floor, blushing adorably. “Yes,” she said quietly. She was quivering ever so slightly. “I want a family someday...” Her eyes began to water. She took her glasses off and wiped her eyes, then swallowed. “...with you.”

Lance moved towards her and pulled her close, enveloping her in a warm embrace. She buried her face in Lance’s chest, her shoulders shaking as she wept quietly, grabbing a fistful of his shirt. He hid his smile in her hair, inhaling her sweet scent. He wasn’t crying, there was just a bit of space dust in his eyes...

They stood like that for a long time, saying nothing. The only thing he could hear in the stillness of the room was the sound of her fluffy trash nebula friends softly trilling, and Bae Bae’s tail thumping against the floor. Pidge stopped shaking and her breathing slowed, Lance rubbed her back gently. She slid her arms around him and hugged him. When she finally let him go, he held her by the shoulders and looked at her.

“I love you, Katie,” he said,. “I want to spend the rest of my life loving you. I want to grow old with you. And I am just as terrified by it as you are.”

She grinned. “I love you too, Lance.” She reached up to touch his cheek. He closed his eyes blissfully to savor the gentleness of her touch, then looked at her through eyes that were half closed. “For me, it’s always been you, and I never thought you’d ever feel the same as I do. I am happier and more frightened than I have ever been in my life. Everything is happening so fast...”

His opened his eyes wider. “We need to slow down. I...I didn’t mean to scare you. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. We have been best friends for years, and we share a Paladin bond. Ever since that last battle, when we fully bonded with our lions...”

“We have been closer than ever before. Which is why I can tell you, with great certainty, and without fear of retribution, that you look like a raccoon right now.”

“What?!”

“Your mascara.” He turned her toward the mirror, laughing a little.

“Ugh! I’m not used to wearing this stuff. This is so embarrassing.” She picked up a makeup wipe and began to dab under her eyes. He grinned at her awkward attempt to maintain her dignity.

“Stop it. This isn’t funny, Lance.”

“Yes, it is.” He couldn’t stop giggling at how silly she looked. Then he saw her hurt expression.

“I’m sorry. Please, allow me. Close your eyes.” Pidge obeyed. She turned her face towards him, and handed him the moist little cloth. He held her chin as he gently wiped the dark smears away. Then he lowered his head and kissed her lips softly. It was intended to be a quick chaste kiss, but Lance couldn’t suppress his joy when she cupped his face and kissed him back. He deepened the kiss, wanting more, and Pidge then began to kiss him with more intensity and passion than ever. Lance began to pull away, afraid that things were indeed moving way too fast. Pidge pushed him down on her bed. “Take off your shirt,” she commanded.

Lance looked at her, both aroused and terrified. “Pidge, I don’t think we should...”

“Take it off,” she said more gently, sitting very close to him on the bed. “Start undoing those buttons.”

“Pidge, I really respect you, and I don’t mind waiting until...”

Pidge shut him up with another kiss. She took adavantage of his surprise to begin unbuttoning his shirt.

“I really don’t think we should do this,” he said breathlessly as she continued to undress him. “Pidge, I’m really trying to be a gentleman about this.” She had undone all of his buttons.

“Take off your shirt,” she insisted.

“I think we should wait. Now isn’t the time for either of us to lose our virginity.” He was blushing so hotly that he nearly radiated steam.

Pidge cracked up, laughing so hard her sides hurt. “I’m not trying to seduce you, goofball. You have mascara all over your shirt. I’m going to put stain remover on that, then put it in the washer. It should be as good as new after that.”

Lance’s facial expression changed from aroused embarrassment to cool shock in an instant. “Pidge!”

Pidge was in giddy hysterics. “That look...on your face...priceless!” She wheezed at him, so overcome with laughter that she nearly fell off the bed.

Lance sighed as he took off his shirt and handed it too her. “I still think that you’re using this as an excuse to tear my clothes off.” He turned on the charm, and said in his deepest, most seductive voice, “I’m just so sexy that you just can’t resist me.”

“In your dreams, Loverboy.” She draped his shirt over one arm, and then made finger guns at him. “Gotcha!”

She exited the room with his shirt in hand, still giggling as she shut the door. The trash floofs made a kind of sandpapery sound, which was probably their equivalent of snickering. Bae Bae, on the other hand, just whined in sympathy as she thumped her tail on the floor.

*******

When Pidge returned to her room, she discovered that Lance had removed his shoes and was sitting cross-legged on top of her comforter, strumming his guitar. He was definitely underdressed, wearing only his gray trousers, white undergarments, and socks.

“Making yourself comfortable on my bed, Lance?”

“Obviously, I am trying to seduce you with my good looks, charm, and talent.” He smirked at her as he played an elaborate riff on the guitar. The fluffy blue and green alien pets trilled in harmony with his last chord.

Pidge laughed. “I think it’s working. But alas, as much as I would like to keep you up here in my bedroom half-dressed and swooning with mad affection for me, I don’t think my parents would approve. I brought you the sweater you left downstairs. You can put that on before we have supper, which should be in about an hour.”

“Won’t your parents suspect something? They might wonder what happened to my shirt.”

“If they notice, just tell them you spilled something on it, so I washed it for you. Now, about that song you wrote for me...”

Lance played his most recent version of the the song, which he entitled “Lucky.” Pidge was delighted with it, and kissed his cheek when he was done. She sat barefooted on the other end of the bed, facing him, and he taught her to sing her part in the song. They spent several minutes revising the lyrics. The final result was this:

"Lucky"

Lance: Do you hear me, I'm talking to you

Across the stars, across the galaxies

Under the open sky, oh my, baby I'm trying

Pidge: Boy, I hear you in my dreams

I feel your whisper across the stars

I keep you with me in my heart

You make it easier when life gets hard

[Both:]. Lucky I'm in love with my best friend

Lucky to have been where I have been

Lucky to be coming home again

Ooooh ooooh oooh oooh ooh ooh ooh ooh

Lance: They don't know how long it takes

Waiting for a love like this

Every time we say goodbye

I wish we had one more kiss

I'll wait for you, I promise you, I will

[Both:] Lucky I'm in love with my best friend

Lucky to have been where I have been

Lucky to be coming home again

Lucky we're in love in every way

Lucky to have stayed where we have stayed

Lucky to be coming home someday

Lance: And so I'm flying through the stars

To a planet where we'll meet

You'll hear the music fill the air

I'll put a flower in your hair

Pidge: Though the breezes through the trees

Move so pretty you're all I see

As the world keeps spinning round

You hold me right here right now

[Both:] Lucky I'm in love with my best friend

Lucky to have been where I have been

Lucky to be coming home again

I'm lucky we're in love in every way

Lucky to have stayed where we have stayed

Lucky to be coming home someday

They were so caught up in the music that they didn’t notice that Sam and Colleen were standing in the open doorway. Sam had his arm around his wife and a faraway expression in his eyes, smiling at some distant memory. Colleen was visibly moved by the song and looked on the young couple with admiration. When the song ended, the Holts applauded. Lance and Pidge blushed.

“Mom, isn’t he amazing?” Pidge gushed.

“Lance, you have a voice like an angel, dear.”

“I thought the song was wonderful. Well done, both of you!” Sam exclaimed.

“You two had better get ready for supper. Matt will be here soon, with takeout from Pizza Shack. And there’s plenty of leftovers from lunch today.”

When Sam and Colleen went back downstairs, Lance and Pidge put their shoes on, and Lance put his guitar back in its case. Pidge handed him his sweater.

“Well, that went well. What’s the plan for after supper?” Lance asked as he pulled his blue sweater on over his T-shirt.

“I was thinking we can get Matt to teach us how he finally got to level 36 of Killbot Phantasm.”

Lance beamed at her. “That is a great idea! Then I’ll give you the surprise that I brought over for you. It’s in the white bag on the sideboard downstairs.”

“That bag smelled suspiciously like peanut butter cookies,” Pidge said.

“Of course!”

[lostincalum]

A Million Different Kisses- Shawn Mendes

AN: Heyyy, it me, im back with some Shawn Mendes for you guys :) this is purely fluff btw

Word Count: 1700 (roughly)

TW: None, like stated above, purely fluff 

Shoutout? yes, obvs to @burncrashbromance for being the absolute G and proofreading for me 

Your first kiss with Shawn comes unexpectedly. Not because you don’t want it, but it all happens so fast that you almost forget to react. You are at one of his hockey games, a really important one. It has all of the college scouts and important people. And as you watch Shawn step into the role of captain, you get more and more hypnotised by the way he skates across the ice rink, leading an offensive or pushing for the rest of the team to go back to defensive. But most of all, you can see him watching you every time he scores.

As his best friend, you have been to almost all of his games, and this one looks so good on him, better than all the others. And still you don’t realise how your proud smile affects him. How your jumping up when he either assists or scores makes him all warm inside. When the tense game full of body checks and bruises ends, and he and his team come out as the victors, all he can think of is you.

Per usual you head for the exit, with Aliyah in tow still talking about how epic the game was as you walk towards the wardrobes.

“Wanna wait here with me?”

It’s a statement, but it comes out as more of a question, and you’re even more surprised when she shakes her head.

“Nahh, I’ll wait in the car, if that’s alright by you?” She says with a glint in her eyes.

“Sure, just don’t put the keys in the ignition, it drains the battery.” You tell her as you hand her the keys to your hopeless, old car.

Shortly after she has walked away, your phone vibrates with a new message from Shawn.

-Come out to the rink?

You find your way to the main entrance, only to see Shawn stuck in conversation with what looks like an important suited up man.

Silently you stand by and watch as the last of the stragglers file out of the arena, and it’s only Shawn, his coach and you left, with the important looking man. When you see them shake hands for the last time, you slowly walk over to him.

“Good game Mendes!”

At once he turns around and sees you, and you see that he has changed out of his match clothes, except for the jersey. He quickly runs up to you, take you in his arms and spins you around, enticing giggles from you. It has to be his favourite sound in the world. When he finally sets you down, he keeps his arms around your waist. And for a second there is something that looks like hesitation in his eyes, before his hands wander up to your face. You are about to ask him if there is anything wrong as his eyes flicker between yours. Then he carefully leans down and places a soft kiss on your lips.

And for a second he feels your entire body stiffen, like he feared, and he is about to pull away, but then he feels your hands cover his. You stand up on the tip of your toes to reach better. You build up the courage to deepen the kiss, but the vibrating in your back pocket distracts you.

“Mmh, Shawn-” You try to pull away, and he starts to smile against your lips.

“Yeah, just- one more” He says in between soft, short kisses.

Putting your hands on his chest, you push him slightly away to pull up your phone. When you see Aaliyah's contact photo, you quickly swipe answer.

“Yes, we’ll be there in a second”.

“If you say so, lovebirds”.

She answers back and hangs up.

------

On a hot summer day, you and Shawn, after a month into the relationship, are finally going out on your first official date. He decided to take you somewhere completely different than the skate rink. So the beach it is. Of course he would choose the beach, he is too much of a boy not to.

So you throw on a nice fitting bikini and head to the beach, in his car this time, since yours finally broke down and currently is in the shop. When you get there, it is already filled with people. However, he manages to convince you to go just a little further, behind a rock formation, until you find a perfectly secluded part, where you lay down your blankets.

“Wanna go for a swim?” He asks as he pulls off his t- shirt.

“Yeah, sure” You answer as you copy his actions and start to strip of your singlet and shorts.

Before you’re done, he has run into the ocean, plunging himself under as you near the shore. Carefully you walk until you’re waist deep and goosebumps have risen on your skin.  

“God it’s cold”.

Shawn smiles at you as he swims closer, with a glint in his eyes. You recognise it as a mischievous look, and slowly start backing up towards the sand again.

“Why are you backing away babe?”

And you can just tell that he is up to no good.

Swiftly he jumps up and brings his arms forwards, making the cold water hit you like a wall. And you freeze in place, letting all the water drip down on you as he laughs his ass off. At least until you gather yourself and take a good look at him, with his mouth open as he laughs and water is dripping down his chiseled frame. It all stops when you send a wall of water for him yourself, making him cough as he gets water in his mouth.

“You’re gonna pay for that, so hard”.

That’s how you spend the next 20 minutes, just splashing each other and trying to shove the other underneath the surface. You stop for a second when you find yourself in his arms, his cheeks coloured pink and smile broad.

“Did you know you’re really cute?”

You tell him as you press a tiny kiss to the tip of his nose, and the tint to his cheeks spreads down his neck. He gives your nose a quick peck.

-----

Shawn is tired when he comes home from practice. You can tell by the way his shoulders slump and the bag full of hockey gear stays on the hallway floor.

Three months have passed and both of you have just started college. Luckily you got into the same one, even though you would have given long distance a chance.

“You good babe?” You ask as your nose is buried in a book about human anatomy. It’s not that you don’t care, but anatomy is possibly the worst subject.

“Noo, I have another essay to hand in and I haven’t even started it”.

At this you get up and walk into the tiny kitchen to look at him, properly.

“Have you started it?” The inquiry is quiet as you start to reheat the dinner from last night for him, as he takes big gulps of water from a glass.

“No, that’s the worst part, i forgot about it, until before practice”, He almost groans.

The microwave dings, and you retrieve the plate and put it in his hands.

“Well, eat first, then work on your essay, sound like a plan?”

He nods, and starts to practically inhale his dinner. You sit back down at the table and look at him as he is trying to both pull his laptop out of his bag and eat at the same time. Smiling to yourself, you look down at your own schoolwork. After a while of sitting quietly, with only the tapping of keyboard keys making noise, you feel something stroke past your calf. And it would be cheesy to say, but you could feel your shoulders drop, the frown on your forehead cease, all because he gave you a simple touch. A few more hours pass, and you finish your work.

“Hey, I’m gonna head to bed, if you don’t need anything”, You yawn.

“Okay, I’ll just put in my last sources and then I’ll be there”, is the response you get.

Placing a soft kiss on the top of his head, you walk to the bathroom to finish your nightly routine. Leaving the light on in your bedroom, you scroll through tomorrow’s schedule as you fall down on the bed, and crawl under the covers.

You’re almost asleep when the bed dips beside you. A sure sign that Shawn has finally put away his laptop. He bounces you, unintentionally, a few more times, before his arms snake around your waist. You turn around in his embrace until you’re facing him and put an arm over his waist. You fall asleep like that, with his arms around you and lips on your forehead. And if you wake up like that too, it’s nobody’s business besides yours.

---------

Shawn gets up early in the morning for a jog almost every day. Today is no exception. However he always gets back to you, so he can drive the both of you to campus at 10 am, each tuesday.

When he has showered and you are still eating breakfast, he asks what you’ve got scheduled for the day, when you answer just classes, he smiles.

In the car you play music while he jams along, of course in his new Jeep. You both sold your old cars to get one newer, but it all works out. Arriving is always a bother, at least when Shawn is, well, Shawn. The best freshman hockey player in ages. When he parks the car, you both get out, fetch your backpack from the back seats and head for the right buildings.

Time comes for both of you to split ways and head to your respective classes. You’re two steps away when he calls out for you.

“What?”

“I forgot to kiss you goodbye”, he says with a fake pout.  

“Come here then, idiot”, you answer with fond sass.

He places himself in front of you, and much like your first kiss, he places both hands on the sides of your face and pull you towards him. Meeting him in the middle you kiss him back and just when you think he is going to deepen the kiss, he pulls away with a wink, and saunters off to class. There are a million different kisses in your relationship, but these are the ones you will always cherish.

[knox-knocks]

Restart ~ Chapter 14

read on ao3

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Neil sipped at his water and let himself tentatively hope.

~ ~ ~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you worried about the game?”

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

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

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

“Yeah,” he said. “Me too.”

~ ~ ~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I will not let you just die.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Kevin rolled his eyes. “Stop being immature.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes or no –”

“Yes.”

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

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

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

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

“You did it, Abram.”

[daringyounggrayson]

angst dialogue prompts: birdflash with 25 or 29? (your choice) (and only if you want to) :)

Hey @haunt-the-stars, thanks so much for the prompt! I’ve been looking for an excuse to write some YJ season two angst, and this fit the bill nicely. Basically, everything is the same except birdflash instead of spitfire and Wally isn’t filled in on the Secrets. And because I’m not that creative, the fic’s title is from the song Chemicals by Dean Lewis. Hope you enjoy the fic :)

From this prompt list: #29: “I’m not going to sit and watch you destroy yourself.” for birdflash.

Title: hold me (i’m falling apart)

Summary:  Between Kaldur’s betrayal, Artemis’s death, and the League’s trial, it isn’t a surprise that Dick is struggling. But Wally knows that Dick has been hiding something, too. He might not know what that something is, but whatever it is, it’s killing Dick. Wally just wants to help before it’s too late. AO3 

part 2

The alarm went off minutes ago, but aside from Wally’s fumbling hand to turn off his phone’s alarm, no one has moved.

Wally finally finds the energy to roll over, wrapping his arms around Dick the second he does. He’s awake and stiff beneath Wally’s hold, and he can so easily picture Dick’s expression: wide, tired eyes staring blankly at the wall, jaw clenched as if that alone will hold him together.

He kisses his temple. “We should probably get moving if we don’t want to be late.”

Dick brings the pillow closer to him and curls around it slightly. Wally can barely hear the whispered, “I don’t want to go.”

Artemis’s funeral is today. They had gone to the visitation yesterday for almost an hour—which Dick hadn’t wanted to go to either. It had been hard, almost annoying, to convince him to come. But. Wally is trying to be patient; Dick was right there when it happened, after all.

“I know. No one wants to. But we have to go for Artemis and her mom,” Wally tells him, rubbing between his shoulder blades.

In response, Dick rolls away from Wally and onto his stomach to hide his face in the mattress, almost as if that is the exact reason why Dick doesn’t want to go. Wally follows him, placing his forearms on either side of Dick’s back, hovering just a few centimeters above him.

“It’s going to be hard, but I don’t want you to regret missing it later,” Wally tries to persuade. When he gets no response, he sighs and says, “Please? I don’t think I can go alone.”

Dick carefully shifts onto his back to look up at him. His eyes are red and puffy, face pale with dry tear tracks on his cheeks. Nightmares.

“It wasn’t your fault,” Wally whispers, letting his head drop down to touch foreheads.

“Right,” Dick agrees, voice shaky yet sincere.

“You’re warm,” Wally murmurs.

“Because I’ve been sleeping next to a human space heater,” Dick half-heartedly quips back.

Wally pushes himself up into a sitting position. “You can get in the shower first. I’ll find some breakfast.”

Dick nods and, thankfully, gets out of bed.

An hour later and they’re walking into the funeral home about fifteen minutes before the service is scheduled to begin. Dick is practically glued to his side the whole time, talking as little as possible whenever someone approaches them. It’s weird when Dick gets like this, but Wally’s seen it before. It’s not unexpected at all, really.

Everyone who was close with Artemis as a civilian is there: a few friends from Gotham Academy that Dick knows, a few from Stanford that Wally knows, and then the original Team members (along with a few newer members like Tim), her mentors, and the small family Artemis had. It’s a short, emotionally-difficult service, with the hardest parts being the eulogies and the actual burial. When it’s over, Wally has dried tears on his face that match the ones Dick had this morning and the question of how he’s supposed to do this all over again in a few days for the Justice League’s memorial service racing through his mind.

They offer their condolences to Artemis’s mother after the burial is finished, and Wally doesn’t miss how hard it is for Dick. She hugs Dick and he apologizes through her cries, his face wearing a blend of guilt, shock, and grief as it happens. He looks like he’s on the verge of shattering, and Wally knows that Dick not only (unfairly) blames himself for Artemis’s death, but that the funeral also made Artemis’s death real. He needs time process—away from everything and everyone.

So when Dick asks to skip the luncheon after the burial, Wally lets him. He drives Dick back home where Dick shuts himself in the bathroom as soon as they arrive. Wally hears him puking and then the shower turns on. It’s so hot Wally can see steam coming out from underneath the door, and if he had super hearing, he’s positive he would hear the quiet sounds of Dick breaking down. But if he can’t hear Dick, that means Dick can’t hear him. So maybe he breaks down a little bit, too.

oOo

Since quitting the Team, Wally has only used his speed a handful of times. There have been a few times were Kid Flash has been brought back in as a “one-time thing” in emergencies, most recently emergencies involving Bart. But, outside of vigilante use, Wally has only used his speed three times since hanging up the yellow boots. The first time was when he and Dick were on a date and it started to rain so hard that he decided to pick Dick up and run them to his car, the second was because of a school project that he’d pushed off way too close to its deadline, and the third is now: running to get to the Hall of Justice’s hospital wing because Tim just called to tell him that 1) the Cave had been blown up and 2) Dick had been there when it happened.

He doesn’t stop until he’s in the room, staring at Dick half sitting up in a hospital bed.

“Babe, thank god,” Wally breathes, leaning against the doorway for support.

Tim is sitting cross-legged on the end of the bed with his head turned towards the door to look at Wally. The room feels a little tense, and Wally’s is 93% sure that he just interrupted an argument between the two. Over what, he has no idea, but he also doesn’t find himself caring. All he cares about is getting to Dick

He forces himself to walk over to the bed, paying no mind to Tim as he reaches out to hold Dick’s face with both of his hands. “Are you okay?”

Dick places both of his hands over Wally’s and smiles. “Course I am. Just swallowed a little water and freaked Connor and Mal out a little.”

“And by ‘swallowed a little water’ he means near-drowned.” Wally takes his hands off of Dick’s face and turns towards Tim when he pipes up. “He needs to be observed for a few more hours here, and then he can be monitored at home for the next forty-eight.”

“Any other injuries from the explosion?” Wally asks Tim, taking a seat in the chair next to Dick’s bed as he does.

“We just got caught in the debris field, not the actual explosion,” Dick says, but they continue as if they hadn’t heard him.

“A few bruised ribs, but luckily no concussion like Mal originally thought when he brought him in,” Tim says.

Wally nods, grabbing Dick’s hand and giving it a tight squeeze that doesn’t let up for a few seconds. “That’s good. I’m guessing we’re on pneumonia watch then?”

“Yup.”

“Look, I’m fine, and now that you’re here, you can sign me out, right?” Dick asks, and he sounds… eager? Yeah, definitely eager, and a little jumpy.

“I’ll sign you out as soon as you’re cleared,” Wally promises, anxious eyes glancing from the nasal cannula to the pulse oximeter still on his finger. “How did all of this happen? The cave is really gone?”

“Kaldur and his new friends raided the Cave. No idea why or how yet, but he took Bart, Gar, and Jaime with him,” Dick says darkly. Wally curls his free hand into a fist. “I really need to get out of here and start working on this before we lose his trail.”

That explains the eager-jumpiness Wally picked up on earlier, and maybe the reason for Dick and Tim’s earlier argument. But there’s something else going on that Dick’s not telling him. It’s something in Dick’s voice that Wally can’t quite pick out. He runs a hand through his own hair and lets out a breath. “Wow, okay. Listen, this isn’t on you. Understand? I’m sure you did everything you could.”

Dick’s eyes water a little and Wally swears his lip almost trembles. “Please, just—”

Wally holds his hand up. “But you’re no good to anyone if you make your condition worse. And I’m sure the others are already working on getting them back. Right, Tim?”

Tim nods once, fast and sharp. “Conner and Mal are on it, and I think they already sent a squad out.”

“See?”

“Conner was in the explosion, too. So if it’s okay for him to be working, I don’t see why—"

Wally’s eyes tighten. “Dick, he’s half Kryptonian. And he didn’t near-drown.”

Dick sighs and shifts to lean back against the bed. “Fine. I’ll stay here. What’s the plan for Gotham patrol tonight?”

“Babs is out right now. I’ll join her if she’s still out when we get back home.”

“You’re going to the manor?” Wally asks.

Dick’s lips quirk upward at the corners. “Alfred insisted.”

Tim scoffs, but it’s teasing. “More like Alfred yelled at him for being reckless and now Dick’s grounded for the unforeseeable future.”

“That is not what happened!” Dick defends, but he’s smiling too. That real, Dick Grayson, happy smile that Wally hasn’t seen in weeks. He turns back to Wally, smile already fading. “He worries. Besides, I have to fill in for a Wayne Enterprises meeting tomorrow morning anyway, seeing as Bruce Wayne is on vacation and all.”

Wally gives him a confused look. “I didn’t realize you were taking over for Bruce too.”

Dick shrugs. “The trial isn’t as straightforward as he initially thought. There are several projects at WE that he can’t push off any longer, so he asked if I could step in. And you know how Bruce is: if he asks he’s really ordering.”

“What about your day job?” And the night job, and the Team, and the other night job, and random JLA consults, and, you know, his ever-dissolving sleep schedule.

“I can still keep it. I’m not going to be working at WE full-time or anything, just a few meetings here and there that Bruce would normally have to attend.”

Wally doesn’t say anything, because he doesn’t know how to say that this is too much without causing Dick to get defensive.

“What?”

Wally shakes his head. “Nothing. Just worried about you.”

“I’m okay.”

That’s what you keep telling me. “I know.”

They talk until Wally catches Dick’s eyes slide shut and his breathing slows down. He guesses the evening’s events have finally caught up with him, and the painkillers definitely weren’t helping him stay awake. Wally and Tim sit in a comfortable silence, just watching Dick in this now all-too-rare moment of peace.

“He can’t keep this up much longer,” Tim says.

“Yeah,” Wally agrees. He doesn’t have to say anything else; Tim knows Dick is struggling. It’s been one thing after the other lately, with everything coming down around them at once. Dick’s workload (some of which he can’t get out of, some he tells himself he can’t get out of) is strenuous enough, but then you add on the emotional toll of Artemis and Kaldur and it’s all … too much.

“I don’t know what to do,” Tim admits, absently picking at Dick’s blanket. “He keeps telling me he’s okay and pretending that everything’s fine, and then he buries himself in work to hide the fact that he’s not fine.”

“You’re doing everything right, Tim. We just have to be there for him and try to help where we can, where he’ll let us,” Wally advises. Tim doesn’t say anything, merely nods slowly. Because, really, that’s what they’ve been doing. The thing is, it’s not working, it never was working.

Dick won’t talk to him about it, either, and Wally can’t shake the feeling that Dick is hiding something from him. There have been signs—sneaking out to who knows where under the guise of patrol, most casework coincidently being finished as soon as Wally walks into the room, Dick constantly seeming off and not himself—but no clues as to the specifics of what that something is. Whatever it is, one thing is certain: it’s killing Dick.  

Dick is woken up and discharged about an hour later, and Wally decides to ride back with him and Tim. The second they’re in the Batmobile, Dick turns the autopilot on and starts working on his holo-computer. He inserts a USB that he pulled from one of his glove compartments, probably to pick up where he left off before the raid and explosion took place. He wants to say something, tell Dick that it can wait or even ask what he’s working on in general, but the look on Dick’s face convinces him otherwise. It’s a look Wally has been seeing a lot of these days.

oOo

They come across some luck and are able to rescue the Team members—along with some other teenage civilians—who had been abducted by the Reach. Other than that, however, things stick to their typical pattern and continue to get worse. M’gann has been kidnapped by Tigress, Conner is angry (at Dick, Wally thinks), the information they’re gathering on the Reach only grows more concerning (and that’s only the stuff Wally knows about), and to top it off, the trial still isn’t going in the JLA’s favor. Dick was being stretched thin before, and now with all of this extra pressure stacked on top, he can’t hide it anymore. He’s making more mistakes, sleeping less, and after interacting with him for even a few minutes, it’s clear that he’s going to snap any day now. He needs a break, he needs sleep.

So of course, he has plans to single-handedly stop Riddler’s latest scheme. Well, Wally’s not letting him go without a fight.

“Dick, please. Just look at you.”

Dick turns to face him, looking away from the live video feed on his laptop for the first time since Wally confronted him. “What? What about me?”

Dick has dark bags under his eyes that are so dark they almost look like bruises. His eyes are bloodshot in the corners from a combination of sleep deprivation and staring at screens too long and too often. Despite his tense muscles, he sways where he stands at the counter. His skin’s lost its natural tan, he’s in desperate need of a shower, and his body appears to be permanently stuck in a defensive position. He could go on, but all in all, it’s blatantly clear that he looks terrible and needed an intervention yesterday.

(But to be fair, this is the first time Wally has really seen Dick—and not just evidence of Dick being at the apartment or briefly passing by him like ships in the night once or twice a day—in days.)

“You need sleep.” Wally forces his voice to remain calm and even. His eyes flicker down to the stain on Dick’s red shirt that keeps growing, the one Wally is pretty sure is the result of a reopened stomach wound and not “spilled water”. “You’re hurt, you’re stressed. You need to take a few days.”

“Take a few days? Do you not get that there’s an alien invasion going on? God, I know you’ve decided to quit being a hero, but some of us still care about stuff like that.” His voice is cold, and the words sting. Wally thinks that was their intention, though.

He closes his eyes and exhales to calm himself; he can’t get angry right now. He’s about to say something, try to shift the conversation back to something calmer and more productive, but Dick continues his rant before he can.

“And I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but Bruce is still on a trial that he might never come back from. I’ve been working my ass off covering his Gotham and League responsibilities, and that’s on top of the Team and Nightwing work I was already doing. Don’t you think it would be weird if I wasn’t stressed?” He exits the video feed and closes his laptop a little harder than necessary before pushing away from the counter and towards their bedroom. “But Gotham isn’t accepting personal days, so I need to get over there and make sure the Riddler doesn’t destroy half of the city.”

“Tim and Babs can handle it,” Wally reasons without missing a beat as he follows him. He knows that they’re supposed to be leaving on a mission within the hour, but this takes precedence. Someone can cover for them.

“It’s my fault Riddler wasn’t obtained two weeks ago. I don’t need to get anyone else involved.”

See, Dick says things like that and it just confirms Wally’s suspicion that he’s been punishing himself. Wally has seen Dick stressed and overworked before, and he’s sure he’ll see it again in the future, but this time feels different. This time there’s this undertone of blame and guilt and secrecy that Wally isn’t used to. And he doesn’t think it’s just self-blame in response to grief or not fixing everything fast enough. No, this has been going on for too long and started too soon for that to be the case.

“What’s been going on with you lately?” Wally asks, the only thing he’s been wanting to ask. “Why won’t you let anyone help you?”

“If you really wanted to help me, you wouldn’t add to my so-called stress by arguing with me over things out of my control,” Dick says (lies), not even bothering to look at Wally as he tries to find a uniform without bloodstains.

Wally grabs Dick by the shoulder and turns him around before he can succeed. “Look, you can yell at me and be angry all you want, but I’m not going to sit and watch you destroy yourself.”

Dick’s eyes tighten into a glare. “Then go.” Dick pushes him off with strength Wally didn’t know he still had and makes for the door.

“Dick,” Wally tries again, using all of his will-power to not follow. “Just talk to me. You’ve been keeping something from me—for a while now.”

Dick stops in his tracks but doesn’t turn around, just curls his hands into fists. “Did Conner say something to you?”

“No. Nobody said anything—no one had to.” Wally walks closer to Dick. “We’ve known each other for so long, how could you think that I wouldn’t notice when something is bothering you so much? I want to help, but you have to tell me what’s wrong.”

Wally can see Dick shaking where he stands. “I can’t.”

“Yes, you can,” Wally encourages, finally reaching Dick and stepping in front of him. He gives him a brief smile. “How bad can it be?”

Dick’s lip trembles and he puts one foot behind him, likes he’s going to run away, but he doesn’t. He just stands there, frozen.

“Let’s just take a night off. One night.” Wally pushes Dick’s bangs out of his face, leaving his hand to rest against the back of his head by his ear. “You can get some sleep, something to eat, and we can talk. How does that sound?”

Dick wipes a hand across his eyes. “This is all my fault—all of it.”

Wally pulls Dick against his chest and runs his hand up and down his spine. “What are you talking about, Babe? What happened?”

Dick presses his face into Wally’s shoulder. “It was such a stupid plan.”

“Okay,” Wally doesn’t know where Dick is going with this, but it’s something. “Then let’s come up with a new one, yeah? You just have to tell me what it’s for first. Does it have something to do with the trial?”

It’s hard to tell when this really started. It’s difficult to differentiate the stress of Artemis’s death and Dick taking on the role of Batman so shortly after from the … well, whatever this is.

Dick shakes his head, hopefully saying no to the trial and not no to talking to Wally. Then he says quietly, but with little to no emotion as if he were merely stating a fact, “You’ll hate me.”

“I could never hate you, I promise.” It’s scary seeing Dick like this, the only thing scarier being the thing that caused it.

Dick takes a shaky breath, exhaling slowly, and then, “Okay, okay.” He pulls away from Wally so they can see each other’s faces again. “You’re going to be mad. Hell, I would be mad if the situation was reversed. But you can’t tell anyone else. Not yet. Okay?”

Wally hesitates, but after a few seconds, he nods. He needs to figure out what they’re dealing with and then how to get Dick out of it, but to do that, he needs Dick to trust him. If he has to break this promise later, so be it. “All right, I promise.”

Dick nods once too. “I’ll start with the most important thing: Artemis is alive.”

(continue to part 2)