A Quiet Night | An All for the Game Fanfiction

Chapter 3

For a while, Neil debates telling Brian what happened. Someone recognized him. Someone knows where he is, who he is. And not just any someone - Andrew Minyard. Famous Exy player. Could spill his whereabouts to a million journalists at the drop of a hat. Seven years ago, a few nursing school classmates knowing who he was sent him running for the hills. Back then, he considered disappearing altogether, making connections with his mother's old slew of forgers. (He considered that a lot. That had to be better than feeling like a sitting duck and trusting the FBI of all people who watch out for him.)

But now, he doesn't feel that itch as badly. It sticks around for a day or two - the feeling he's being watched, the compulsive need to drive a different route home every night just in case - but it's gone by week's end. And all he's left with is his slowly fading memories.

And an intense desire to explain his entire life story to Andrew Minyard.

It's ridiculous, really. Andrew doesn't know him. And while he knows the parts of the story he was willing to tell in court, he doesn't know what his life is like. He doesn't know the terror of waking up to the normally inconsequential sound of footsteps and thinking it's the day you die. Sometimes hoping it is just so it will end.

But that would be a disservice to his mother's efforts to keep him alive. Neil sits in his tiny studio apartment and stares at the only picture he still has of her. She would scorn him for being so sentimental, reminding him that being attached to things, even her, could get him killed. But he can't let go of it. He can't stop wondering if she'd be proud of him. Or disappointed.

It's a few months of floating though his days with a strange sense of being untethered from reality. He treats patients, jokes with Peggy, and watches Exy when the season starts up again. His eyes stay glued to Andrew whenever the camera is on him.

He plays Exy like he does everything - like he'd rather be anywhere else. And yet, he blocks shots like his life depends on it. And there are the smallest moments where he looks like he's enjoying himself. Neil itches to be on the court. It's been years since he played, even just on a local court with a borrowed racket.

Two weeks into the professional season, he finds a rec center and looks up their open court hours. He's terrible. It's been so long that the racket feels too big and too small all at once. But after a couple times, he starts to get the ball where he intended it to go about 50% of the time. It's exhausting and perfect. It wears him out enough to sleep. Between that and work, he's able to keep his mind occupied enough that he doesn't vibrate out of his skin.

But, of course, his tenuous link with sanity comes crashing down in the most horrifying way possible.

It's a relatively slow night in the ER, and Neil is finishing up some notes to pass off to the doctor on duty, Dr. Bixby. It's been almost six months since Andrew came in the second time, and the effects have faded to a buzz. No news stories have cropped up about him, Brian didn't say anything about it in their yearly check in a few weeks ago, and life has been, dare he say it, quiet. But, of course, Neil Josten is not meant for a quiet life. And not two seconds after he finishes his notes, the ambulance doors fly open, and all hell breaks loose.

A paramedic is supporting a blood-stained Aaron Minyard who's holding a towel over his nose and wobbling. His unfocused eyes latch on to Neil across the room, and they go wide. He tries to say something, but it's muffled completely by the towel, and the paramedic ushers him into one of the empty bays near the doors. Neil is about to follow to find out what the hell happened to Aaron's face when the other paramedic pushes an equally blood-stained Andrew through the doors.

Neil's breath catches in his lungs at the sight. Andrew is flat on his back on the gurney, covered in a blanket from the waist down. As the paramedic wheels him closer, Neil spots a large bandage above his left eye. His eyes are open but empty and blinking lazily at the ceiling. He doesn't react when they snag on Neil for half a second.