Welp, i’ve been convinced to post this… ;; It’s only a half thought-up ficlet, written for my friend. I wrote it on my phone, so there might be some autocorrect/swype/typing mistakes. It also ends abruptly because this wasn’t meant to be really read by anybody but my friend (though now my sister has read it too). I might add to it later, I don’t know. We shall see. DAV has my priority right now. This is just how the scene on the bus on the way to Baltimore played out in my head.
Characters: Wymack, the Foxes (except Neil), Abby (very briefly).
(First time trying to actually write on my phone and not just RP. We shall see how that goes …)
It took far too long for Andrew to finally catch a glimpse of that bright orange and when he did, it brought a sense of dread rather than relief. He lowered his phone from his ear and snapped it shut. There was no point letting it ring; no one was going to pick up. He could see the tiny green light flashing on Neil’s phone, and Neil himself was nowhere in sight. The crowd had mostly dispersed, but there were a few stragglers milling about, the aggression not entirely rioted out of their system. Andrew had to shove a few of them out of his way to get to Neil’s bag, something that he did with perhaps more strength than was strictly warranted to get them out of the way.
He reached and stood over Neil’s duffel, eyes scouring the parking lot around him. By the time he found Neil’s racket, it felt like his blood had turned to slush in his veins.
“Andrew,” Renee said, appearing at his elbow, but then she noticed the bag at his feet. “Is that Neil’s?”
Alarm made her voice too loud. He didn’t answer her - he didn’t need to: The name JOSTEN was printed in big, bold letters on the side. He leaned down, grabbed the strap and slowly straightened up. Renee studied his face carefully. Andrew returned the stare. She looked worn and anxious.
“Still no sign of him?” she asked, hopeful despite the obvious answer written in every tense line of Andrew’s shoulders and arms. Her face fell when he didn’t answer. “Coach asked me to get everyone to the bus.”
Andrew wasn’t going to stop looking for Neil, but he wasn’t going to tell her that. She obviously knew what he intended to do anyway, because she shook her head.
“Coach was talking on the phone,” she said, “maybe he has news. I did hear him ask ‘where?’ just before he sent me. For all we know, Neil could be at the police station.”
She didn’t say or at the hospital, but they both heard it anyway. Andrew took the few steps that separated the bag and Neil’s fallen racket and picked it up. Renee waited to make sure he was following her, then made her way back to the team’s bus.
Andrew walked behind her, staring down anyone who looked at them too long, eyes otherwise roaming around in hope of catching a glimpse of auburn hair and a bright orange jersey. It shouldn’t have been so hard to find, really.
When they reached the bus, Wymack was waiting for them by the door. He looked angry, but relaxed visibly when he spotted Andrew behind Renee.
“I couldn’t find Matt,” Renee told their coach.
“Dan’s got him,” he said, jerking his thumb towards the bus. “We’re all here.”
“Neil too?”
“This will be faster if I just explain once.” Wymack saw what Andrew was carrying. “Got his gear, good. Get on, I’ll explain.”
Abby was sitting behind the wheel and she attempted a pale smile when Renee got on, the tail of which fell on Andrew as he reached the top of the three steps and started down the aisle. Wymack closed the door behind them and took position at the front of the bus, watching his team as they raucously demanded to know what was happening and where Neil was. Abby started the bus and eased out of the parking space. Andrew had just drawn level with Kevin’s seat when Wymack began, stopping him short.
“So I got a call,” he said, his eyes intent on Andrew who had turned to watch him in an attempt to gauge the type of news he was going to get from the coach’s expression. “From the FBI.”
“FBI?!” That was Nicky.
“Why the FBI?” Alison asked at the same time.
“They’ve found Neil.”
“Oh my God, is he OK?!” Dan asked.
“Where?”
Kevin’s tone drew Andrew’s eyes to him. Kevin had grown pale and he couldn’t completely hide the beginning of a panic attack. His joints were white where he had his fingers clenched over the backrest of the seat in front of his. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed thickly.
“Where is he?” he asked again.
“Baltimore,” Wymack said and Andrew watched what little colour was left on Kevin’s face fade as he blanched visibly.
“Baltimore?” he echoed numbly.
The others quieted as they realised something was off. Andrew ignored them. He had eyes only for Kevin. Kevin who knew who Neil was. Kevin who could give Andrew the answers Neil had never quite given him.
Then Kevin seemed to shake himself and repeated, “Baltimore?!” Horror replaced the blank look on his face. He raked a shaky hand through his dark hair. “Newspapers,” he demanded, voice shrill and unrecognisable. “Someone tell me they got the papers this morning!”
“I have minimal roaming data charge on my phone,” Matt said. “I can find an online paper, if you just tell me what to look for.”
“Wesninski,” Kevin said, voice tight. “W-E-S-N-I-N-S-K-I. Tell me he’s still in prison.”
Andrew’s hand tightened around the strap of Neil’s bag. This had to be him. The one Neil was running from. He wouldn’t forget the name.
“Wesninski?” Wymack asked. “Who’s Wesninski?”
“What’s that got to do with Neil?” Dan asked. “Why is Neil in Baltimore?”
“Guys, hold on, hold on,” Matt said, and people went quiet in an attempt to hear what he was saying. He read his screen in silence for a moment, brows furrowing as he went. “I’ve got a Nathan Wesninski here,” he said at length. “Paroled and released from prison this morning.”
Nathan…?
Neil’s lie did not make Andrew feel any better and Neil was lucky he was in Baltimore right now. The fact that Andrew had always known Neil wasn’t telling him everything didn’t help much either.
“Oh my God,” Kevin murmured, his knees giving out and landing him on his seat, “Nathaniel’s dead.”
Dimly, Andrew heard Nicky ask who Nathaniel was, but his focus was on Kevin. On Kevin, and the explanations which were definitely not coming out of his mouth as Andrew’s fingers squeezed around his throat.
He slammed his elbow in the chest of the first person who tried to wrench him off of Kevin. Someone else grabbed his arm. There was a bit of cursing and yelling, quite a bit of shoving and pulling and Andrew lost his grip on Kevin’s throat.
Wymack shoved them apart - with Matt’s help - and blocked Andrew’s path to the striker. His expression was tense, but the glare was directed at Kevin.
“Start talking.”
Kevin coughed, took in a large gulp of air and coughed again. Andrew took a step in his direction, but Wymack shoved him back.
“What’s going on?” Nicky sounded in pain as he rubbed at his chest. “I don’t get it. What’s in Baltimore? Who is Nathaniel?”
“Neil,” Andrew said impatiently, his eyes boring into Kevin’s. “Nathaniel is Neil’s real name.”
Kevin’s eyes went wide. “He said you didn’t know,” he accused.
“Assume I don’t,” Andrew said, “and tell me everything.”
“I don’t think,” Kevin began but Andrew made to have another go at him, and he flinched.
“I’ve reached the maximum amount of bullshit I can take,” Wymack said, “so you’d better start talking or I’ll let Andrew strangle you and even help him dump your body out somewhere.”
“All right, all right,” Kevin relented. “Nathaniel Wesninski is Neil’s real name.”
“Wesninski?” Dan asked. “Like um…?”
Kevin nodded. “Nathan Wesninski is Neil’s dad.”
“His dad?” Nicky cleared his throat. “Neil’s okay then, right?”
“No, he’s not!” Kevin sounded horrified. “If Nathan Wesninski gets his hands on him, Nathaniel’s as good as dead!”
“Wait, wait, wait,” this was Dan again. “Why would Neil’s dad want to kill him?”
“Because he lost face,” Kevin said.
“I think you’d better start from the beginning,” Wymack said, and there was a moment of silence.
“I don’t know where to start,” Kevin finally admitted after thinking for some time.
“First, you know Neil from before.” At Kevin’s nod, Wymack let out a sigh. “This has to do with the Moriyamas?”
.
Kevin nodded again.
“Did you know who he was when you had us fly to Arizona?”
Kevin shook his head and Wymack shifted towards Andrew.
“He didn’t,” Andrew confirmed without looking at the coach. “He found out at the fall banquet.”
“He looked different,” Kevin explained, “and I hadn’t seen him in eight years. I really just thought he had potential. When I first met him, he played backliner.”
“Wait, I thought he was a complete newbie?” Matt asked.
“Hold on,” Wymack interrupted, “get back to how you know him and how his father fits into this.”
“He was supposed to be number 3, not Jean.” Kevin pointed at his tattoo. “He played at Evermore to try and assess his skill. If he didn’t make the cut, the Moriyamas would have had his dad kill him. His mother wouldn’t risk it. She grabbed him and ran. Nathan Wesninski lost face.”
“So his mother’s on his side, at least?” Dan asked.
“Not anymore,” Kevin looked glum. “Wesninski got to her. She’s dead.”
The silence that fell on the bus this time was deafening. It was one thing to know Nathan Wesninski could potentially kill. It was quite another to know that he had already.
“Wait,” Nicky sounded even more scared now, “he’d really kill Neil? Wouldn’t he, like, stop himself? It’s his kid!”
“It won’t matter,” Kevin said glumly. “The man has no soul. He is terrible!”
“Neil is fast,” Dan pointed out, looking like she was trying to convince herself. “Wesninski could hesitate.”
“He won’t,” Kevin insisted. “We saw him, once, Riko, Nathaniel and I; we saw him cut a guy to pieces. One joint at a time. He cauterised the wounds to keep him from bleeding out.” He shuddered at the memory. “It took him hours to die.”
The silence that followed was deafening.
“How old were you?” Dan asked, voice quiet and shaky.
“Riko and I were twelve; Nathaniel was ten.”
That explained a lot about Neil, but Andrew didn’t have time to think about it now; what mattered was whether Neil would survive the encounter.
“Neil’s still his kid,” Nicky said obstinately, his voice sounding small and scared. “Maybe he wouldn’t kill him?”
Kevin looked shocked. “Wesninski is Moriyama’s right hand man and enforcer, and he lost face! If his men stop respecting him, they’ll tear him to pieces in an effort to get to the position. Yes, he’d kill him!”
“His enforcer?” Wymack’s voice cut through the panic that had erupted on the bus. “What’s this about him being an enforcer?”
Andrew had taken another step towards Kevin, so Wymack stuck his arm out between them again.
Kevin looked at Andrew this time. “They call him the Butcher of Baltimore, because he likes to use -”
“Knives,” Renee spoke for the first time. She turned towards Andrew. He saw her out of the corner of his eye, but didn’t return the look. “I’ve never understood why he likes knives. I thought he meant Riko.”
Andrew wouldn’t admit he thought the same, but his failure to identify this threat rattled him.
“Can Neil defend himself?” Dan wanted to know.
“He refused to let me teach him,” Renee said.
“Teach him to fight with knives?” Kevin shook his head. “He’s been taught since he was a baby. He probably knows the twenty fastest ways to murder someone using a knife.”
Well that was news to Andrew. That Neil had known how to fight all along but had spent his life running didn’t make sense. But then, he had only been ten.
“So he’s got a chance then?” That was all Andrew cared to know.
Kevin opened his mouth to answer him, but didn’t get a single word out.
“Wait,” Wymack interrupted again, “we’ve done this all out of order. Neil’s fine. The FBI called and they’ve got him in custody. He’s at the hospital but he’s getting released today so it can’t be that bad. They want us for questioning.”
“Coach, you’re horrible!” Dan exploded, relief making her voice more chiding than angry.
“You see, Perry the Platypus, when I was young, my mother sent a pack of dalmatians to chase me off a cliff. Er…my adopted mother. Not my real mother, obviously, she left before I was born. My adopted mother wasn’t very nice either. Anyway, Perry the Platypus, that’s why I invented this: the Dalmatian-Destroy-Inator! With a push of this button, this machine will…erase the spots of every dalmatian in the tri-state area! They’ll just look like dumb white dogs! They’ll be too embarrassed to ever go outside again! AHAHAHA!”
“What? Skin them? That sounds a little messed up, Perry the Platypus. More than a little actually, is this overwork stress or something? I have been making a few extra inators lately, I’ve just had a little more spare time - look, do you need a break? We can do this tomorrow if you want, I’ll let you go, you’ll just have to walk into the same trap again tomorrow, it’s only fair.”
