#im so wiped I just wanted to post this before my inevitable face-to-keyboard sleep

[ravenvsfox]

5/6 for andreil pls!! You can combine or do them separately whatever floats ur boat

5: “Please don’t do this” (I’m doing them separately im weak, #6 should be out tmrw! also... a phrase with ‘please’ in it.. I’m using up all my dreaming/drunk/dying scenarios)

It’s common knowledge among foxes that waking Andrew is Neil’s job, unless you want to get a fist to the solar plexus. But it’s also true that Andrew is the only one who can extract Neil from his nightmares without scaring him back into the trunk of a car or an evermore bed.

It’s one of the “fun facts” for fox survival that Nicky recites to newcomers: don’t touch Neil when he’s sleeping unless you want to feel like you’ve just kicked a puppy. Don’t touch Andrew under any circumstances if you like your fingers attached to your hands. When in doubt, get whichever one is awake and let them do their voodoo. If they’re both asleep at the same time, you’re fucked. Take pictures.

Andrew never bothers to correct him. There’s nothing to correct, if Andrew’s being honest (and he always is).

Quietly learning to wake each other is the result of bruising trial and error, a hard-won trust that grew like moss over ruins.

It’s still almost impossible, sometimes. Most of the time. Approaching Neil when he’s whimpering and protecting his face with his hands makes Andrew feel even more like a monster than usual.

Neil whispered to him on the bus once that the split second of disorientation in Andrew’s eyes when he wakes makes Neil scared for him.

Andrew starts to recognize the sheepish look of foxes who need to ask their vice-captain something while his head is lolling around Andrew’s shoulder. He almost always wakes him, it’s a clear subclause in his ‘keep Neil out of harms way’ contract, and Andrew’s dutiful when it comes to deals.

There’s a knock on the door at half past three on a Monday morning, and Andrew startles awake in an empty room. He stews in slow annoyance as the front door opens and closes, muffled voices tripping into the bedroom. He gropes for the light switch in the dark, and Kevin flips it on for him, toothbrush sticking out of his mouth, eyebrows shaking hands across the stretch of his forehead.

They have a brief staring contest and then Matt clears his throat from behind them, knocking awkwardly on the door frame.

“Um… Andrew?”

Andrew looks at him blearily. He’s conscious of Matt’s eyes tracking his hair sticking out sideways, one of Neil’s soft nondescript shirts slouching on his chest.

“We need your expertise,” Matt says, grimacing. Andrew turns to retreat to his bed, unimpressed, but Matt huffs. “Neil’s having a nightmare. He fell asleep in our room.”

Andrew stops.

“He’s freaking out,” Matt continues, soft. He makes eye contact with a wild edge that says he’s refusing to let the blankness in Andrew’s gaze phase him.

Andrew pushes past Matt like he’s rolling his sleeves up, breaking out into the strangeness of the dorm at night. 

The door to the neighbouring room is open and Aaron’s standing just inside, arms crossed.

“He woke me up,” he says cooly as Andrew passes.

“Jesus weeps,” Matt snarks, hot on Andrew’s heels. He’s looking beyond the twins to where Neil is curled on the floor, trembling. Matt’s face pinches with concern. Dan’s sitting on the couch by Neil’s head in a jersey and bare legs, looking like she’s trying to help just by being nearby. The room has the suddenly bright feeling of a fire alarm going off at night, minds alert inside sleep dulled bodies.

Neil jerks and holds his own arms, and Andrew spots his wet face because he’s looking for it.

He crosses to him and Dan scoots backwards, like Andrew’s a lightning storm and Neil’s water that’s unfit for swimming.

He’s sickly aware of half the team looking on, of how much Neil would hate this.

“Please don’t do this. I’m— let me go,” Neil mumbles, his features all fighting each other. Andrew recoils. He looks up and Aaron’s watching him closely. “Please. Please don’t.”

“Neil.” He shoves his own revulsion to the back of a drawer in his head. Neil’s nightmares have the same aftertaste as Andrew’s. They throb in scars and bind wrists. He puts one hand heavily on the back of Neil’s neck. “Wake up.”

He pushes down a little, so Neil’s face meets the cool floor. The combination of the familiar gesture and the temperature tug him almost instantly awake.

Neil’s hands open but his eyes stay shut. “Thanks,” he says, licking his lips.

Andrew squeezes his neck a little too hard and takes his hand away. “You’re scaring the neighbours,” he murmurs.

Neil opens his eyes and finds Andrew immediately. “Maybe they’re up early enough for morning practice, for once.”

“What, was this pre-meditated?” Matt jokes, and Neil looks up at him, still a little haunted around the eyes.

“It’s something I’m trying,” Neil says wryly, picking himself off the floor and leaning into the base of the couch. Andrew hates being here, but he’s not leaving the room without Neil. He can still see sweat beaded on his upper lip.

“Maybe don’t try it at 3 am, huh kiddo?” Dan says, reaching over to ruffle his hair. He flinches a little, and no one seems to notice but Andrew.

“We’re going,” he says, and Neil meets his eyes gratefully.

“Yeah. I’ll let you guys sleep,” he agrees, glancing from face to tired face.

“It doesn’t bother us, you know that, right?” Matt says. “We all have nights like this. It’s in the job description, for foxes.”

Neil nods weakly, but Andrew knows it hasn’t hit any kind of target. Neil swirls kindnesses around and spits them out again — he hasn’t acquired a taste for them yet.

“Speak for yourself,” Aaron says, rubbing sleep from his eyes and grimacing.

“I was, actually, thanks,” Matt says, rolling his eyes. His posture shifts back to face Neil and his expression shifts with it. “You need anything?”

Neil flickers a look at Andrew. “Nah I’m f—“

“Don’t,” Dan cuts in, laughing.

They walk back to their room with their shoulders not quite close enough to knock, and the aftershocks of whatever Neil had been reliving finally go through him. Andrew pushes him up against the wall before their door, knowing Kevin will be waiting up inside.

“Breathe. Whoever it is, they are dead.”

Neil shakes his head, breathing out through his mouth. “Doesn’t feel like it. He’s still—“ he twists his hands violently in his hair. “Here.”

Andrew reaches up for Neil’s chest and taps two fingers to his heart. “Dead,” he reminds him. “Just like all the Wesninski’s.” He doesn’t say Nathaniel because that wound is fresh and bleeding in Neil’s face.

“It was months ago, I should be able to— sleep, at least.”

Andrew looks at him. Neil glances up and laughs at his expression.

“Yeah, I guess a six month deadline for good mental health isn’t working for me.”

“Try six years,” Andrew says. “Bee has a flow chart.”

“I don’t think 60 years would help.” He frowns. “I don’t think a flow chart would help either.”

Andrew shrugs. Neil’s eyes are back as they should be, blue like clean water.

“Bed?” Andrew asks.

Neil tilts his head, noncommittal. “I’m thinking I might go for a run.”

Andrew nods once, and reaches beyond Neil to twist the door open. They both ignore Kevin as Neil tucks his hair back and toes on runners. Andrew grabs his own shoes and dodges Neil’s curious look.

Neil out in the middle of the night with his own thoughts for company is a panic attack in the making; the sort of thing they’d put in the ‘not to do’ column of a PTSD pamphlet.

They end up running bad dreams into the gutter, Neil poking fun at Andrew’s speed and Andrew ignoring him, the sky watching them with starry eyes.

By the time they get back to fox tower Neil’s eyes are drooping. Andrew invites him into his bed with a tucked down cover, putting his back to the wall and watching as Neil does the same.

He’s holding sleep in the palm of his hand when Neil’s voice steals it away.

“The secret is, it’s better, waking up to you,” he says, secretive and lush. Andrew hears him shifting under the covers, facing Andrew in the dark. “Anyone could put a hand on my neck, and I’d wake up, probably. But I’m glad it’s you.”

Andrew considers this. “Go to sleep.”

Neil makes a noise, and reaches for Andrew’s fingers, kissing them quickly and settling them back on the bed where he found them.

Andrew doesn’t acknowledge it, but his hand pricks with feeling until he falls asleep.

He dreams in orange.