#thanks for asking me questions. always a pleasure to respond with inane word vomit

[kaylor]

hi maddy i just saw on twitter theyre talking about how threatened taylor is by billie and olivia lmao. she is allegedly fine with supporting younger artists until she feels they are better than her and thats why her public support for them is deliberately non existent (ok i admit she is petty but i do not think she is THAT petty! remember how she cheered for all the other artists who won grammys she was nominated for (even though she really wanted that AOTY)). do you think shes like that? like she would deliberately go out of her way to ensure her 'crown' as THE singer-songwriter and critics darling is not taken??? isnt something like that kind of inevitable just by the passage of time ? lol sorry such a dumb question the twitter swifties are next level

maddy sorry i forgot to give you context about why the swifties are saying that about taylor!! so the tea (circulating by so called 'insiders' literally they know nothing) is that basically taylor no longer wants olivia to be a supporting act in her tour (wHO KNOWS about this stuff? who????) because she thinks olivia is... Too Successful? Something like that? like for a huge debut artist she will steal all the limelight?? and something about taylor feeling insecure about people wanting to see olivia and not taylor perform so they will buy tickets for olivia and not taylor??? lmao dumb!!! not true!! like? sorry thats literally it im sorry it is so stupid you absolutely do not have to answer this

okay so i knowww we all joked about her not wanting to be pally with olivia so she wouldn't steal all her youngest artist to win x or y award because it was funny but tbh honestly i don't seriously think it's that deep. first of all just wanna say until there's actual evidence olivia was meant to be an opening act for one of taylor's tours (she wasn't even on the scene when lover came out so it likely wasn't lover fest, and i hiiiighly doubt taylor has made any concrete plans for touring folkmore considering [vague gesture] everything), im going to take this """"tea"""" with a massive grain of salt if you don't mind.

also this isn't a drag or anything but i doubt taylor thinks olivia or billie are better songwriters than she is. talented? yes. definitely going places? for sure. but not better than her. she's also got the benefit of having been in the industry for tiiime now so she has the experience, she's been there and got every t shirt. she knows she's got weight to throw around when she wants something doing (grammygate is a great example). and whether she's putting her money where her mouth is in regard to protecting the younger girls in the industry like she made a point of in that speech a few years ago, she's under no obligation to provide free promo for them or take them on tour with her. like she doesn't have to do that. they might not even be friends, we literally don't know anything about their relationship. god knows why she took charli xcx and camila cabello on rep tour with her (my guess is that it made her look better in comparison but that's because im mean). bro idk i don't think she's mean spirited enough to actively try to undermine their careers but i do think she really does enjoy being the top dog prodigal golden child and will fight tooth and nail to be The Most Likable Relatable Queen for as long as she can (obviously not to the extent she used to, like she's taken a huge step back from being a celebrity. but we also don't know if this is just an era for her and she'll maybe come back with another massive popular smash album. who's to say)

do i think taylor is above beefing with 18 year olds? not sure. she IS in her cersei era. she's gonna wait til all the new young things are gathered in the staple center awaiting their record breaking youngest grammy award winner whatever and she's going to blow the building up tae fuck.

[fuzzballsheltiepants]

Back to the Start, part 8

All For the Game/The Foxhole Court, post-canon.  Memories keep coming back, and Neil can’t really be...real, can he?  And Katelyn’s kind of awesome.  Read it on AO3 if you choose.  Read Part 1.  Part 2.  Part 3.  Part 4.   Part 5.  Part 6.  Part 7.  Likes, comments, and reblogs really appreciated!

After Aaron and Katelyn left for the night, Neil found he couldn’t settle.  Andrew was out cold.  He pulled out his phone and stared at the black screen for a while; he felt a strong urge to see what the internet trolls were saying but knew it would only piss him off.  

Aaron had confirmed Neil’s suspicion.  Neil tried not to resent that Andrew would talk to Aaron and not to him; it wasn’t Aaron’s fault, or Andrew’s for that matter.  Or his.

He wandered down the hall to the deserted waiting area. The nurse at the desk gave him a quick smile then returned to his computer.  Neil clicked on his phone and pulled up his contact list.  Betsy Dobson was the first of the Bs.  It was just after nine; he thought she would still be up.  

She picked up on the second ring.  “Betsy, it’s Neil.”

“Neil!  This is an unexpected pleasure.”

“I hope I didn’t wake you up.”

“Not at all, I was just having a cup of tea and reading a rather terrible novel.”  

Neil picked at a threadbare seam on the corner of the couch he had flopped down on and tried to think of what to say.  He didn’t really know what he expected Betsy to do from South Carolina.

“Neil?”

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have bothered you.”

“Don’t hang up, Neil.  I’m guessing you’re calling because of something with Andrew.”

Neil pressed the fingers of his free hand into his eyes.  “He remembered Drake.”

There was a short pause.  “I’m sure that was very difficult for both of you.”

“What do you know about his…situation?”

“Just what David shared with me and what was on the news.”

“He doesn’t remember much of the past few years,” Neil gritted out.  “He doesn’t really remember me.”

The pause was longer this time.  “What do the doctors say?”

“They say he’s doing well.  They say this is ‘normal’ for this type of injury.”  He laughed without humor.  “I’m starting to understand why Andrew has grudges against certain words.”

“But you said he’s recovering memories.”

“Some, yeah.  Mostly the terrible ones, as far as I can tell.”

“Or perhaps those are the ones he can’t help but show.”  

Neil digested that.  “I just don’t understand how this works.  How can he remember Baltimore, but not really remember who I am?  I mean, he knows my name, he remembers hitting me with that racquet, but I’m not sure he remembers me.  Do you know what I mean?”

“I do.  Have you asked him?”

“No.”  

“Why not?”  

He could hear that she knew his answer in her tone.  Instead he asked, “Can’t you help him with recovering his memory?”

“Not really, no,” she said gently.  “I can help him process what he knows, and that may help in turn, but really it’s up to his brain.  On the plus side, we know what a formidable one he has.”

“I’m still not sure what’s going to happen when he’s released, anyway.  If he’s going to come back down with me or not.”

“Don’t forget that he has an excellent therapist there in Boston.  Depending on how long he’s hospitalized, and what the next step is, Dr. Isaac may be a better option.  Have you contacted him?”

“No,” Neil said, feeling like an idiot for the thousandth time that week.  “I don’t know how to.”

“I imagine his number is in Andrew’s phone.”  Right.  The phone still sitting in the stadium with all of his other stuff.  Neil wondered how he had forgotten about that.  

“How are you doing, Neil?  Not you-and-Andrew, but you.”  When he didn’t answer she added, “There’s a reason you called me rather than talking to his doctors.”

He just wanted everything back to the way it was.  A week ago he had been wrapped up with Andrew in their bed savoring the last of his break.  Just a week ago.  “I’m fine.”

She sighed.  “All right, is there anything else I can help you with?”

“No.”

“In that case, get some sleep.  Good night, Neil.”

He thought he thanked her before hanging up.  He hoped he had.  Pulling his fingers away from the loose threads on the couch, he dragged himself back to the room.

*****

The click of a door registered through the haze of sleep and Andrew snapped awake.  The room was oddly lit.  He blinked.  It wasn’t his room.  He blinked again.  There was an empty chair next to his bed and a window in the door.  He dragged himself out of the nightmare - or was it a memory?  Not that there was much of a difference.  All his nightmares were really memories.  

A few more blinks and he was back in the present.  He could hear subtle movement in the room then Neil appeared in his line of vision, furtively preparing for sleep.  Neil lowered himself slowly into the chair, then froze when he saw Andrew’s eyes on him.  “Sorry,” he whispered.  “I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

“How long was I out for?”

“Just a couple hours.  You can go back to sleep, I’m done making noise.”

But for once Andrew wasn’t sleepy.  Judging by the way Neil held his eyes once he was settled into the chair, neither was he.  “What.”

Neil blinked at him in confusion.  “What?”

“You’re staring.”

“I’m always staring.”

“Yeah but now you’re staring with a purpose.”

Neil looked away, fiddling with his hands.  “I hate this,” he said finally.  Andrew waited.  “I hate that you only remember the bad stuff.”

Andrew didn’t know how to respond to that.  Didn’t know how to tell him that he remembered other things - remembered bits and pieces of meals and drives and games and shared cigarettes on the roof, the weight of Neil’s mouth on his own and the feel of his skin, the sound of his hitches of breath.  Because none of that felt real.  None of that felt possible, despite the obvious evidence of it sitting curled up in a ball in the chair next to him.  

“Go to sleep, junkie,” he said, not totally sure where the nickname came from, and Neil’s eyes snapped back to his.  “It’s not all I remember.”  

The smile he received in reply was ridiculous, and he ignored it as he settled back in, tugging the blankets tighter around himself.  Just as he ignored Neil’s hand coming to rest on the edge of his bed, as it somehow always seemed to.  And if he woke up the next morning to find their finger tips slightly interlaced, he didn’t comment on it and neither did Neil.

The atmosphere in the hospital was different that day.  It seemed like suddenly everything that had been in slow-motion was at full speed.  He got wheeled off for another MRI first thing, and this time the noise-canceling headphones were enough that he didn’t need to vomit afterwards.  The lights were brighter and he walked for longer and they even let him have a magazine.  Neil disappeared to work out, with a laughing promise to try not to assault any reporters.  

Aaron and his girlfriend appeared just as Neil returned bearing a chocolate-filled croissant that he handed to Andrew without ceremony.  The girlfriend greeted Neil with a hug and handed him a bag full of stuff, and Andrew understood why Neil had warned him he wasn’t allowed to kill her.  Especially when she pecked Neil on the cheek when he took the bag.  Andrew glanced at Aaron, who rewarded him with an eye roll.  

The girlfriend chattered about New York and the stresses of anatomy lab while Neil showered.  Andrew wanted to tune her out but there was little else to hold his attention.  Though watching Aaron… Most of what Andrew remembered of Aaron was from before.  This was interesting, to say the least.

Then Neil came out of the bathroom and Andrew decided maybe he didn’t hate the girlfriend after all.   Not if she’d picked out those clothes.  Fuck.  He really didn’t know what was wrong with him.  Well, besides the whole skull-fracture-traumatic-brain-injury thing.  The doctors hadn’t mentioned this as a potential symptom.  Then again, given what memories his brain was dredging up, perhaps it was some pre-existing condition.  A manifestation of the bipolar, or something.  Because want was normal.  Want was biological.  He understood want, had since juvie.  But this was more like need.  And need was irrational.  Need was dangerous.  Need had led to the lines marring his forearms, to him breaking into houses and shops until he had finally been caught, to whatever had been left of his heart being destroyed.  

Aaron and the girlfriend were wedged into the chair together.  Neil stood near the foot of the bed, listening to the inane conversation as if it were important.  Andrew studied the long-healed scars on his face.  Abruptly, not caring about whatever nonsense he was interrupting, he asked, “How long ago did that happen?”  He gestured to his own face.  

The girlfriend made a remonstrative noise but Neil answered easily, “Almost four years ago.”  He gave Andrew a questioning look but Andrew just hummed in reply and Neil turned back to the girlfriend and asked a question, setting her off again.

Four years.  Four years since Andrew had been nearly torn apart by terror.  Four years since he had felt that anguished need that seemed so fresh in his memory.  And yet Neil was still here.

*****

Dr. Martin appeared with someone Neil believed to be an intern before Katelyn had petered out, so he didn’t get a chance to ask Andrew about getting his stuff from the stadium.  Her arrival essentially shoved Neil off to the side.  Andrew’s eyes followed him as found a new spot near the window.  Dr. Martin introduced herself to Aaron and Katelyn and reviewed all the medical stuff Neil already had heard.  They finished up with this morning’s scans, which showed resolution of the hematoma.

“It’s time to discuss the next steps in Andrew’s care,” Dr. Martin said.  Neil tried not to bristle at the way they focused all their attention on Aaron and spoke about Andrew like he wasn’t there.  “While he could be ready for discharge as soon as tomorrow, he will need ongoing assistance until he can manage on his own.  Now, it’s our understanding he lives alone here in Boston.”

“Yes,” Aaron said, and Neil’s fingers twitched.  He didn’t understand this shift in the dynamic.  He glanced at Andrew, whose eyes had a faint gleam that could have been amusement or irritation.  Likely both.

“Ideally, Andrew should go into a rehabilitation facility for a few weeks while we assess how well he can live on his own.”

“No,” Neil said, and everyone looked at him in surprise.  Everyone but Andrew, whose gleam intensified.  “He’s not going to some facility to have strangers looking after him.”

“I assure you, it’s a very good facility,” Dr. Martin said.

“No,” Neil said again.

“Neil,” Aaron warned.

“Easthaven was supposed to be a very good facility too, Aaron, in case you’ve forgotten.”  Aaron blanched and Andrew’s face went completely blank.  Neil wanted to kick himself but he plowed on.  “Andrew, I told you before.  You can come back to PSU with me if you want.  Otherwise, we can find another solution for you to stay here.”

“With all due respect, Mr. Josten,” Dr. Martin said, “you have no input into this.”

The ground dropped from beneath Neil’s feet.  “What?”

“You have no legal say.  You’re not married and you have no legal domestic partnership.  We have been making an exception for you, allowing you to stay here, but this is not your decision.”

“Is it not Andrew’s either?”  He turned to Andrew.  “Because as far as I can tell they don’t seem to care about your opinion.”

“Mr. Josten.”  Dr. Martin’s voice was calm, sympathetic, but firm.  “Aaron is Andrew’s legal next of kin.  They will decide the next steps together with us.  We must ask you to respect this conversation.”

“I can’t believe this.”  Neil thought he was going to vomit.  He looked between the twins.  Aaron’s expression was wary; Andrew’s held just a hint of black anger, and Neil didn’t know who that was directed at.  “We have resources in South Carolina.  We have Abby and Betsy, and the medical center’s right there.  Surely that’s better than staying with people you don’t know.”

“Mr. Josten, I’m going to ask you to leave.”

Katelyn stood and put her hand on Neil’s arm.  “I shouldn’t be here either,” she said gently.  “Come on, Neil.  We can wait down the hall.”  He looked once more to Andrew, but he made no move to ask him to stay, so Neil let Katelyn guide him away.

Out in the waiting room he couldn’t settle, couldn’t sit.  He felt that urge to run that had long been dormant but would never truly die.  Katelyn was quiet, for once; she had murmured apologies the whole way down the hall, then fallen silent as soon as she dropped onto one of the couches.  It was the one with the threadbare corner, Neil noticed idly.  He hooked his hands behind his neck but it wasn’t the same as Andrew’s grip, it held no gravity for him.

“Neil,” Katelyn said gently.  “Come and sit.”  He shook his head and walked the length of the room, noting the handful of other people scattered over seats.  One woman held a string of beads with a cross at the end, her lips moving silently.  A man wept over in one corner and Neil wondered in what way his world had just ended.  Two older people clutched each other’s hands and stared at the floor.  He turned and walked back.  

Katelyn joined him when he reached her.  “They shouldn’t have done that,” she whispered and there were tears in her eye.  Neil wondered why.  “Maybe we shouldn’t have come.  If we’d known…”

“I’m going to go for a walk,” Neil said.  

“Don’t,” Katelyn pleaded.  “Don’t go, Andrew will want you here when they’re done.”

Neil gave what might’ve passed for a laugh.  “Do you think if Andrew cared he would’ve let them kick me out in the first place?”  Katelyn shrugged helplessly.  “It’s not the same.  He doesn’t remember.”

“I don’t know, Neil.  I’ve never understood what motivates him.  All I know is whatever he remembers, he looks at you the same way.”

“What way is that?”

“I don’t know…like the world begins with you.”  Neil turned away to pace again and she sighed.  “Do you have your phone?”  He reflexively checked his pockets and nodded when he felt it.  “I’ll text when they’re done.”  He nodded again and shoved through the door, running before he even reached the stairs.