Chapter Text
The first thing Aaron saw when he opened his brother’s dorm was Neil on the couch. And beyond Neil, Andrew on the couch. And then Neil and Andrew on the couch— Neil crowding Andrew against the couch, Andrew’s hands gripping Neil’s shirt, legs around legs, bodies moving in a way that made Aaron feel sick.
And then an utterly wrecked swear from his brother had Aaron’s heart dropping into the pit of his stomach.
The next thing he saw were bloody hands gripping a wooden bed frame and white sheets covering nothing before Aaron was charging forward and gripping Neil, throwing him from his brother, pulling him by the collar of his shirt and forcing him to stand in front of him. Aaron threw a punch as hard as he could, anger simmering beneath his skin, making him itch and burn.
As soon as his fist connected with tan skin, he was thrown back harshly, causing him to stumble and lose his balance for only a moment before he righted himself. Andrew grabbed the front of his shirt, pulling so tight the fabric cut into his skin.
Neil had a hand pressed to his chin, eyebrows furrowed as he pulled his hand away and saw blood.
“Do not touch him,” his twin growled, all sense of apathy lost.
Andrew stood before him, placed between himself and Neil, a shield for the man who was just on top of him, for the man who had just taken advantage of him— Aaron’s stunted rage drove through him again.
“How can you handle him?” Aaron screamed, “it makes my skin crawl just thinking about it! He’s just like him! How can you let him- after everything- don’t you find it suspicious how ‘I don’t swing’ Neil got with you only after- God, Andrew don’t you see he’s using you! He’s just like Dra-”
“No,” Andrew cut in, eyes ablaze.
“You can’t just say no-” Aaron argued, cut off by Andrew lunging forward and throwing him against the wall behind him, a knife in hand as his forearm pressed harshly against Aaron’s neck.
“I can always say no,” Andrew seethed, face showing emotion Aaron hadn’t ever seen on his twin. His usual smooth and apathetic skin was cut in lines of anger, eyes wide and awake.
“Do not ever tell me otherwise,” Andrew urged on, tone laced with threat, arm digging further against his windpipe in promise. Aaron stood frozen against the wall, stuck on the fact that his brother, his brother who had killed his mother and glinted the steel of his knife at anyone who looked at Aaron wrong, had that very dagger pressed to his skin in order to protect Neil.
Guilt and anger pooled in his stomach, rage and hurt mixing together unpleasantly, sitting heavy on his chest. His eyes tracked Andrew’s face, finding no remorse, only unfiltered hatred in the features that mirrored that of his own.
He glanced over Andrew’s shoulder at Josten, part of him seeking some sort of out, a kind of search for betrayed comfort.
But all that he saw was a look that he knew followed with deathly hands and final blows. Aaron had always thought Andrew the monster, the heartless twin who could kill without a second thought, but even with Andrew’s blade against his neck, airways tight and constricted by his arm, in that moment, he feared Neil worse than his brother. Fear drained the blood from his face and forced his eyes forward onto Andrew’s again. His stomach cramped and flipped, something within his chest broke and his face crumpled. He was never as good at keeping his emotions from his features as his twin.
Aaron held his arms up beside him gently, palms out, careful not to jostle himself too much in his movements.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that,” Aaron’s voice sounded foreign to his ears, far away and strained against the pressure that pushed against his adam’s apple as he spoke.
Andrew’s posture did not relax at his words, his arm did not fall from his neck, and the look on his face did not ease into his usual bored expression. His eyes seemed far away as he pushed Aaron further into the wall.
A scarred hand appeared before his eyes, separating him from his twin. He hadn’t heard Josten approach, nor did he dwell on it for long as the striker began to speak in hushed tones in a language Aaron couldn’t understand.
Aaron held his breath as his ears strained around unfamiliar words, clenching his stomach, eyes trained on the tanned knuckles close enough he felt cross eyed.
“Любимый,” Josten murmured, tone soft in a way he held only for Andrew. Aaron felt his twin shift slightly against him.
“У меня кровотечение,” Josten continued, flexing his fingers as Andrew turned his head toward him gently, gaze sliding from his palm to his face, lingering on the cut on Neil’s lip for a moment before meeting his eyes.
“он не прав” Josten said, “Вернись ко мне.”
“‘Drew,” the striker implored gently and dropped his hand from between the twins as Andrew pulled away from Aaron just as quickly as he had come. Aaron watched as Andrew’s usual apathy returned, the only sign of his anger in his ragged breaths and narrow eyes.
Aaron let a breath out of his mouth and grabbed at his neck, sucking air in as he rubbed at the skin there. He chased oxygen into his lungs and he doubled over slightly, a hand supporting him on his knee.
“Andrew-“ Aaron began, voice pleading and hoarse as he caught his breath.
His twin‘s hands held his armbands so tight his knuckles were white.
“нет,” Andrew scowled in Russian and Aaron knew it was because that language had yet to be tainted. Aaron’s limbs felt numb.
He’d killed Drake for him, to protect him, and Aaron had just thrown the minuscule amount of progress they had made back in his face with five words. Had ruined it by walking in on something he wasn’t meant to see.
“Убирайся,” His twin demanded and Aaron looked to Josten, flinching back from the dark look on his face.
“Get out,” He translated with as much fervour as Andrew. Aaron didn’t wait to be told again as he hurried from the room and shut their dorm door behind him.
Josten barged into his dorm half an hour later, forcing Nicky to pause his video game and Matt to look up from his study books.
“You piece of shit.” Josten’s tone and the look etched into his features had Aaron scrambling from the bean bag, back facing the wall in a poor attempt to protect himself. The bruise Aaron had given him had deepened, an ugly purple colour spotted his scarred chin and his lip was swollen, red cut fresh with blood as he spoke. His hair was still disheveled and shirt wrinkled from what Aaron had interrupted. Despite all of that, Neil looked as much a killer as his father had, Aaron familiar with it only from images on the news and articles he’d researched.
“I’m not going to fucking hurt you, you coward,” he seethed, words laced with bemusement, another reminder of who had raised him.
“Can you not stay out of a fucking thing?” Aaron shot back and Neil laughed humourlessly.
“That’s not what you were saying when you were practically begging me to get Andrew off of you,” He snapped. Aaron felt his face flush in anger and his nails dig into his palms.
Nicky sat up quickly, “Wait, what—“
“Twice you’ve accused me of that. Twice you have bombarded Andrew with your misplaced fucking protection and your selfishness-“
Nicky started up again, “Hey—“
Neil whipped toward Nicky, finally acknowledging the other boy in the room.
“Stay the fuck out of this,” he bit out.
Nicky shrunk back into himself.
“Neil,” Matt tried cautiously, hands out in a manner as if to try calm him down. Neil turned his glare to his best friend and Matt stayed perfectly still next to Aaron at his desk.
Part of Aaron relished in the fact that part of his mask was slipping, that he was unleashing what Aaron knew was beneath this fake persona Neil had been trying to convince them all of. A bitter part of him took comfort in the way Nicky flinched back from Neil’s anger, finally getting a glimpse into the real part of him. Nicky had always thought Neil a precious thing that needed protection and shelter, but there and then, he could only see the fire Neil hid in his eyes.
And Neil’s best friend looked scared shitless, igniting satisfaction in Aaron’s belly.
“Do you go around calling everyone Andrew sleeps with a rapist? Is your opinion of him so fucking low that you don’t think he could make that decision for himself?” Neil continued furiously, voice low and as threatening as all of these boys had heard it.
Nicky inhaled sharply but Aaron didn’t dare take his eyes from the striker in front of him. His satisfaction simmered down gently and a lump lodged it’s way into his throat.
“This is none of your business. Stay the fuck out of it, Josten,” he threw at him viciously, trying to shut him up, trying to get him to leave so that Aaron could fucking breathe.
Neil took a threatening step closer to him and Aaron glared.
“It is my business when he can’t sleep at night because of the fucking words you throw around, it is my business when he doesn’t eat, when he misses practice, when he can’t get out of bed, because of you,” Neil stabbed.
“If this is about protecting him, about being worried for him, then ask him. Talk to him, instead of throwing everything he’s done back in his fucking face like a spoiled brat. Because you are. You are a selfish asshole.
“Hate me, I don’t fucking care, but do not use my relationship with him as ammunition for your wounded ego.” His voice was cold and sharp, slicing at Aaron’s skin.
“What, like you didn’t do that with Katelyn?” Aaron shouted, “I don’t know if you’ve noticed or not, but you’re the only person Andrew fucking talks to!” He screamed, pushing back, and gaining a step back from him.
Neil laughed again, a bitter and cruel sound that had the hair on Aaron’s arm standing on end, his eyes glowing with rage as they glared into Aaron’s.
“I did that to help you, I did that to fix your fucked up relationship with him, and you know it. You’re doing it to get rid of me. Jealousy is not a good look on you, Aaron. Your false protection is not wanted.”
“I never wanted his!” Aaron cried out, almost choking on it.
“You made a deal with him! You agreed to the terms of his protection! You were stupid enough to agree and yet he’s the fucking bad guy!” Neil shouted back, “And if you stood up for yourself for once in your pathetic life, and finally sat down and actually spoke to your brother —“ Neil took a step back as his chest heaved. He looked at Aaron with disgust, as if he wasn’t even worth the scum on the bottom of his shoe.
“I don’t know, see where that gets you sometime. What a crazy concept, to ask for something, instead of demanding it.”
Aaron seethed, heat burning within him, threatening to lick up his throat.
“You were holding him down,” he spoke past the lump in his throat, the absolute hatred for the man before him clear within his eyes, venom dripping from the words that sounded from his chest.
Neil’s features flashed, face morphing from confusion to bewilderment within seconds before settling on outright murderous.
“Aaron,” Neil warned, shoulders tensed in a way Aaron knew, if prompted, led with bloody hands and broken bones.
Aaron could see Andrew bleeding, bleeding red on white sheets he was pinned against. He could feel the cold metal of Neil’s racquet against his palm, could hear Andrew’s manic laughter, his name being called, hands in his hair, the crack of a skull and blood, so much blood.
“I guess you do take cues from dead men,” Aaron said, his face calm despite his vicious words. Aaron saw it coming as he took a step back but he underestimated Neil’s speed and in one swift motion, Neil’s fist met Aaron’s cheek.
Unlike the first time this happened, Neil’s hands weren’t bandaged and broken.
Aaron staggered back from the force of it, clutching at his throbbing face, and swore as blood coated his fingers.
He smiled, despite the pulse crawling beneath his skin, despite the bruise he knew now matched the man in front of him, Aaron smiled a twisted sort of thing, an almost snarl, splitting the cut on his cheekbone further. Neil was cracking and he relished in it, wanted him to break, he wanted Neil to break and for it to be because of him.
“Fuck you,” Neil seethed, eyes murderous as he shoved against Aaron again.
“You know, I get it. I get that even though the bruises that covered your body were in the shape of her fingers, you still loved her,” Aaron’s smile fell and his heart plummeted, any satisfaction leaking from him like blood, “I get that despite the ache in your stomach from going without food, despite the ringing in your ears that sounded too much like her voice, despite the limbs that didn’t seem to work some days, the broken bones, the quiet steps, the racing heart, the flinching, the dread, despite it all, I get that you still loved her. I get that you loved her because at least she was there, she was there and she kept you and she just wanted you alive. Trust me, Aaron, I do,” Neil’s voice was deep, the effort to keep his tone steady was held within the strain of his throat. Aaron trained his eyes on the sharp line that connected his collarbone to his jaw rather than his face, anywhere but his eyes where the same look he saw everyday in the mirror would stare back at him.
“That is not love,” Neil ground out, “that was not love.” He took ragged breaths when his tongue caught on the last word, before they turned steady against the deep rise and fall of his chest. Aaron held still, nails digging into his palms, and heart beating loudly within his ears.
“That was all you understood, he feared that that was all you knew, but he let go. He put that trust back into your hands and let you go. You have to return that favour. You can not ask it from him and then not give him the same decency,” Neil pushed. The crescents of Aaron’s nails broke skin.
“I do not touch him without his consent. Ever,” The boy said and Aaron’s eyes widened slightly at the statement, finally meeting Neil’s eyes as he saw the raw and utter truth within them.
“If this is about fear, ask him. Trust him, Aaron, ask him,” Neil demanded and turned away from him, slamming the dorm door shut behind him as he left.
The room was silent save for his shallow breaths and it pushed at his ears. Aaron felt the eyes of the other two men in the room on him and he couldn’t stop the choked off sound that escaped from the back of his throat.
“Aaron,” Nicky began but he barely heard it over the pounding in his ears. Aaron forced himself to move, to ignore the ache deep in his bones, ignore the blood staining his skin, ignore the bile rising in his throat. He pushed past the haziness in his mind and forced himself into the bathroom, slamming the door behind him, gripping onto the sides of the cold porcelain sink, shutting the world out as he desperately tried to breathe.