"Stefan."

Haziness clouded Neil's mind as he tried to pull himself out of sleep. He recognized the feeling enough. After a night at Eden's, with Andrew watching over him, he'd allow himself to actually get drunk and he'd woken up feeling just like this. Disoriented and sick to his stomach. But something was different this time. Something didn't feel right. His senses struggled with the bitter edge of threat around him. He needed to wake up.

"Stefan?"

That voice, it wasn't Andrew. It was female and familiar, but in the same way a knife felt familiar in his hand. In the same way his scars felt familiar when he'd accidently skim over one of them during his post-game showers. What was it about that voice?

"Stefan!"

Neil bolted up at the yell, his right arm flying out in search of a weapon on his nightstand, but it crashed against the glass window beside him.

"Shit!" He cursed as his head whipped in the direction of the voice, only to be met with a ghost.

"Stefan! Are you alright, you were muttering in your sleep."

Her voice was harsh, her worry dangerous, but her eyes weren't on him. Instead, his mother looked ahead, and behind, and around, constantly in search of followers, constantly looking out for his father's men.

Neil couldn't breathe.

"Mom?" God, his own voice made him jump. It was so small and young, so unlike the one he was used to that it startled him, nearly as much as the ghost woman sitting in the driver's seat of an old beat up Sudan. He remembered this car. Vividly.

"Stefan, talk to me. Are you okay?" There was an edge to her voice that promised him pain, but Neil was too caught up to take the warning.

What the hell was going on?

His dead mother was sitting beside him, in a car driving down a long stretch of deserted high way. What the hell was going on?

His eyes flew down to his own hands, and he nearly choked on his tongue.

No scars.

The knife wounds, the cigarette lighter burns Lola had given him nearly six years ago, were gone.

Wonderingly, he ran his right hand over the back of his left, testing the skin there. Faint scars marred his skin, but nothing deep. These scars were the ones he'd gotten as a child, practicing the knives with Lola, scars he'd acquired from his mother's nails as she gripped his hand and dragged him out of another danger.

Unable to process any of what was happening, Neil's hand reached under his own shirt.

He almost sighed in a strange sort of relief when his fingers caught on the jagged edges of the deep and fading scars from one of his father's attempts to gut him when he was 8. He ran his hand up his chest, categorizing the numerous scars cutting criss-crosses into his torso, some curving onto his back.

"Abram!" His mother snapped, finally catching his attention, and his eye.

Neil is suddenly struck with her image.

There's a manic light in her eyes that he hadn't seen since Andrew had been taken off his meds. Since his last confrontation with Lola. Since he'd last seen his father threatening to break his ankles. To cut off his feet so he would never run away again.

"Mom." He manages, sounding much calmer than he felt.

A cold sense of dread was filling his gut and making his brain race, but he schooled his face like Andrew had taught him.

Andrew…

What happened to Andrew?

"Abram, what's going on with you." It wasn't a question, it was a demand. 'Do not lie to me.' She'd always say. 'It's the only way we'll survive.'

"Nothing. I was just startled when I woke up. I had a nightmare." He couldn't quite make his voice do the emotionless apathy that Andrew had perfected, but it was pretty close. It didn't reassure his mother any.

"Why do you sound like that?" She looked at him like he was a stranger, weary of him suddenly in a way she'd never been before.

With a start, Neil knew why.

As a kid on a run, he was always scared, especially when his mother was nearby. He always sounded either scared or in pain and that was what his mother was used to. He'd spoken about it to Andrew sometimes, when the nightmares woke them both. In the late hours of the mornings, while the dark and quiet blanketed the world outside, they would share mutual truths and stories. It was never pleasant and Neil always hated it, but Andrew would always grip his hand, dig his nails into Neil's palm and say 'Just because it's in the past, doesn't mean it didn't happen. Tell me, or don't, it makes no difference, but if you wake me up again, I'm going to toss you and your fucking cats out the window.' So, Neil would talk.

And now, with some more insight into his time as a runaway, and the distance separating him from the events, he'd gotten a clearer picture of his mother and himself than he probably ever wanted.

Now was the time to use the knowledge.

"I'm fine. Just cold." His hand pressed against his upper chest, afflicting his voice with the dread he really felt, making it shake with very real emotion despite the lie in his words.

Apparently, it was enough for his mother. Looking more reassured now, her eyes went back to the road, the review mirrors, and the side windows. Once again taking up her vigil.

With her attention averted, Neil was left to panic silently in peace.

His mind raced as he tried to get a grip on what was happening. He spent a moment assessing his body. Moving his joints silently and slowly as to not gain his mother's notice.

His body was his own, of that he was sure of. It felt like his body, like an echo of what he was used to. He was thinner, no longer packing the same amount of muscle as he remembered. His skin was tight around his bones and aches were blooming around his shin, his right cheek, his left side and his lower back. Injuries from an escape he could guess.

Despite his best effort to trick himself into believing he was dreaming, he knew it was untrue. He knew, intimately what nightmares felt like. The blurry edges of dreams who's only goal was to make him relive the most dire, painful moments of his past. He knew the dull throb of once remembered pain. He knew what awakening from one felt like, and he knew what to look for in Andrew to know when his blond partner was also trapped in one.

This didn't feel like that. This felt real. Like the hot iron brand of Andrew's hand on the back of his neck. Like the comfortable weight of King on his feet as he laid his head on Andrew's lap and sat with him watching game show re-runs while the rain and thunder shredded the atmosphere outside. Like the spike of pleasure lodged deep in his gut when Andrew sank dull teeth into his neck, leaving a dark purple bruise just under the collar of his usual shirts.

Andrew…

Fuck, he wanted Andrew.

He spent the entire long drive sitting next to his silent mother, running through everything he could remember.

The attack that left her mortally injured.

Burning her body inside the car they'd been riding in.

Burying her bones on a beach in California.

Making it to San Francisco where he changed his name one last time, before making it to Millport.

Meeting Wymack, Andrew, Kevin.

The Foxes. His Foxes.

They were vivid and real in his mind. Memories, not dreams because he knew the feel of dreams, of wishes. They were real. He was real. And he was here.

Where was here?

Neil got his answer in moments as he passed the sign saying 'Welcome to Seattle'.

Seattle. Where his father's people found his mother for the last time.

That would put him at 16 years old. The year would be 2003.

The last date he remembers is November 4th, 2011, Andrew's birthday. They'd been going out somewhere.

Why couldn't he remember past that?

"Abram!" His mother barked and Neil was knocked out of his own thoughts, coming face to face with his mother.

He couldn't help the spike of fear he felt as he looked at her face. Her hard expression, her unforgiving eyes and the ugly twist to her mouth. When she lifted her hand to strike him, he caught it. An old instinct he'd learned from the boxing practices with Matt and even some of the hand-to-hand he picked up from Andrew when the blond had decided to start teaching Robin during his 5thyear.

He and his mother stared at each other, both shocked as Neil's hand wrapped around her thin, fragile wrist.

He was used to grabbing Andrew like this when they sparred. The pale thick wrist, always either covered in black fabric or bare and sliced with scars Neil was still able to feel despite how faint they were.

"What are you doing!" His mother screamed and went to strike at him again. This time he took it, moving his head with the impact of the blow to minimize the damage and disorientation. Another instinct Andrew gave him.

She didn't stop though. Her fear at a new high with the sudden change in her son. She grabbed his hair and pulled his head back, making him meet her furious eyes.

"I don't know what your problem is, but you better snap out of it, Abram. We don't have much time!"

Well…She didn't. She'd die soon. Neil knew that much.

"O-okay." He choked out, cowed for now. He needed to get to one of his burner phones. He needed to call Andrew. Needed to make sure he wasn't just going completely crazy.

"Good!" She yanked hard once before letting him go and turning, getting away from him as quickly as she could. It's then that Neil noticed that they were in the parking lot of a non-descript, pay by the night motel. So, the usual.

Turning on his heel back to the car, Neil reached into his bag and pulled out one of the 4 phones stashed between his 4 shirts and pulled it open. 27 contacts, and only one of them was worth anything, the others just throw away numbers there to make the phone seem legitimate.

As quickly as he could, he wracked his mind for Andrew's number. The number he'd had when they were still in Palmetto.

He remembered opening his phone multiple times before, remembered staring endlessly at Andrew's number sitting there on his phone, waiting for him to use it. Back when Andrew had gotten them matching phones. Back when Andrew had put himself as Neil's number 1 speed dial.

He remembered it like he remembered the weight of a set of keys pressed into his hand by long nimble fingers. Typing the number from memory and pressing call before he thought better of it.

It only rang twice.

"Hello?"

"Andrew." Neil breathed, relieved almost to the point of tears at the sound of the other man's familiar voice.

"Neil?"

He hadn't been sure what to expect. He hadn't even been sure why he'd done it. He was left adrift in too tight skin, sitting for hours next to the ghost of his mother in what was apparently a jaunt into the past, but it was ingrained in him to run back to Andrew. Always he orbited around the man who stood between him and any threat. Always he found his way to the man's side. Now was no exception.

He hadn't really expected for Andrew to know who he was, though.

As he heard Andrew's voice say his name, he realized that he'd been expecting a 'Who is this?', not a 'Neil?'. Somehow, the relief he'd felt at hearing it was short lived. He was panicking.

"Neil!" Andrew barked, suddenly sounding so very much like he should that Neil wanted to laugh. Everything was thrown out of whack, but this, this was the only thing familiar he actually wanted to hang onto.

"Oh god, Andrew." Neil choked out, head snapping up to look around him.

Yeah, he was still in the parking lot of a strange motel in Seattle.

"Where the fuck are you. I woke up six hours ago in the house in Colombia with Nicky and Aaron. It's fucking April 22nd, 2003 Neil." Andrew's usually emotionless voice had taken an angry turn. But this, Neil was used to. Andrew hated being confused, scared, or desperate and he reacted to those emotions with an intense anger and violence. This, Neil could work with.

"I'm outside a motel in Seattle. Andrew…I don't know what's going on, but my mom is here. I'm in Seattle with my mom, Andrew." God, he sounded much more scared than he'd wanted to.

"Fuck!" was Andrew's only answer.

"He's going to find us here. She's going to die here. I'm going to burn and bury her." Neil found himself saying as he once again looked around.

"No. You're not. Get your ass to Colombia right now, or I'm coming to get you." Andrew growled, his anger suddenly cooling in the face of a plan.

"I…I can't, she-"

"Can't do shit to you. You said they found you because you stopped at a motel on your way to San Francisco. So, shut the fuck up. Get in the car and leave or I'm coming there right now and we'll see who finds you first."

Neil knew that he would, too. Andrew didn't threaten something like that, he promised, and Andrew always kept his promises.

"Okay." He breathed into the phone. "Okay…I need to find a car. My mom's in the hotel right now but she isn't going to let me go that easy. I'll have to wait till night falls. She'll take a shower and I'll be able to leave before she can grab me."

"Neil."

"No. I can't just…Andrew I can't just leave her. He'll kill her. I…I have a plan, just wait for me, okay. I'll be there in three, maybe four days."

There was silence on the line. Heavy and weighed down with doubt and worry, but in the end, they'd built up too much trust for the doubt to win.

"You have three days Josten. If I have to come after you, I'll kill you myself." Andrew said, once again returning to the apathy and threat Neil was so very much missing. He couldn't help his smile.

"Yes, baby." He mocked before ending the call, not even waiting for the reply.

Carefully, looking at the door of the motel room to make sure his mother wouldn't be coming out, Neil dialed a very familiar, very dangerous number.

His Uncle Stuart picked up on the first ring.

"Hullo?"

The British accent was soothing and new all at once. He'd only ever heard his Uncle's voice or saw his face that night Nathan and his men captured him, but that had been jaded to such a degree that Neil tried really fucking hard not to think about it. Now, faced with that memory again, he found himself floundering.

"Uncle Stuart?"

"Nathaniel?" His uncle sounded surprised and worried in equal measure. He also sounded like he was suddenly in the middle of a storm as commotion started chattering in the back ground. "Nathaniel, where are you?!"

"Me and mom are at a motel just inside Seattle. Uncle Stuart, he's going to find us tomorrow, he's going to hurt her so bad, and she's going to die. You need to get here before he does." Neil forced himself to sound calm, to sound emotionless, and he almost managed it.

"Nathaniel, I don't understand, but I'm coming. Please, Nathaniel, stay where you are." He sounded frantic now as the chatter picked up on the other end of the line.

"You better hurry. I don't know how long she'll still be here after I leave."

"No! No, Nathaniel do not move, do not go anywhere. I'm coming, I can protect you, please, please stay there."

"Bye, Uncle." Neil says as he hangs up.

His mother opens the door of the motel room and scowls at him, the promise of pain there in her eyes as she stalks to the car, still suspicious and weary of him.

"What the fuck are you doing?! Get inside now!" She orders, wrapping her hand in the collar of his shirt and pulling him out of the car, choking him a little in the process. Neil goes with it, grabbing at the straps of the duffle bag belonging to him as he's dragged out.

He knows what's inside. He'd memorized too much for time to make a difference. Eight full outfits, four burner phones, the binder locating all of the rest of their money, a set of knives his mother insisted he keep using, a small gun, extra ammo, emergency IDs, and passports for Germany, France, Canada, and Switzerland.

He holds it against his chest as he is marched into the motel room.

His mother doesn't hit him. She's too on edge, too jittery with panic and paranoia, but Neil can feel a terrible sort of calm in his gut. Calm that came from having a plan and a destination. Andrew still knew him, Andrew was still his Andrew and he needed to find his way back to the short blond goalkeeper as soon as he could. That was all he could focus on as he spent the next three hours sitting quietly as his mother secured the door and cased out the room for anything of use. There was nothing, but it never mattered, she always did it anyways.

"Go shower. I picked up the new dye and the new contacts for when we get to San Francisco. We'll have to do it tomorrow." She told him sharply.

Neil found himself wondering if there had ever been warmth in her voice before. He was sure that the answer to that was 'no'.

Without a word, he went to the bathroom, taking the duffle with him. Knowing his mother, Mary would go through his things to see if she could figure out what he was doing in the car by himself when she was checking to see if the room was good enough to secure.

He couldn't let her find the phone he'd used to call Andrew and Stuart. She'd probably kill him if she knew.

Carefully, he turned on the shower and stripped, taking the phone into the shower with him.

He pried it open as the water fell listlessly onto his back. He let the water soak into the phone's systems. The battery, and circuit board inside dying a silent death before he put the phone back together and stowed it back into his bag, wetting the clothes still inside. He didn't care.

He rushed through his shower and dressed in the plain clean clothes he'd left out. Taking the bag back out into the room with him, he told his mother he was tired and laid down.

"Keep the knife under your pillow." She instructed as she sat in a chair by the window, peering out between the shades. It was getting dark, and Neil knew she'd head into take her own shower the second she thought he was asleep.

He closed his eyes as he laid down, allowing himself to fall into one of the meditation trances Bee had helped him with back when he'd gone through his own 5th year without Andrew, Aaron, or Nicky. It hadn't been an easy year, but with Robin, Abby, and Bee, he'd gotten through it okay. Despite his reluctance to talk to the therapist, he'd actually learned to get along with Bee fairly well, thanks to Andrew. He still didn't talk to her about what mattered, but he found himself confiding in her about his relationship with Andrew and the other Foxes. At least that much, he was able to give her freely.

The second he heard the bathroom door lock and the shower turn on, Neil knew he wouldn't have long.

Creeping out of bed silently, he slipped on his shoes and grabbed the strap of his duffle.

He needed to get as far away as possible before she got out of the shower, or she'd just be after him in the car.

He remembered Seattle well, a side effect to the traumatic events, so he knew there was a garage not too far from the motel. He'd find his way there first and steal one of the cars.

With any luck, he'd be on the road within half an hour, and his mother wouldn't be right on his tail.

As he made his way to the garage though, he paused for just a moment to send her a text on one of his three remaining phones.

I'm okay. Keep going. Don't look back.

It wouldn't keep her from worrying, but it would trap her in the motel room hopefully until morning. The text was a message to her. Their own personal code. He's here. I escaped. We'll meet later.

Coldly, he wondered if doing this would still get her killed, but he didn't care enough to dive into the thought. Like he'd told Bee once before, "I'm glad she's gone. If she were still here, I wouldn't have any of the things I have now. I wouldn't trade any of this for her."

He still won't.

He found a car easily enough. It wasn't anything fancy like Andrew's Maserati. It was an old, rusted, and functional pickup truck. That's all he needed.

He was on the road headed to Colombia, South Carolina before he got his mother's reply.

Don't do this. Please come back.

Well then…looks like she didn't believe him after all.

When morning came, Neil stopped for gas and called Andrew.

"What the fuck is wrong with you. I called you four hours ago." Andrew sounded on edge and angry. Behind his voice, Neil could hear Nicky asking who Andrew was talking to.

"I had to kill the burner. This one's the third. I have two more. I'm okay, by the way. I'm at a gas station on I-90. I'm in an old pickup right now, but I'll have to switch out somewhere in Wyoming. There are a few stashes I can get to on the way there. I'll grab them quick." Neil explained calmly. He'd nearly had a panic attack at some point during the drive. He'd calmed himself with the thought that he was going to Andrew. Reaching Andrew was the only thing he was allowing himself to think about.

The line was quiet for a moment as Andrew took in the information.

"You have two days and a half to get here, Josten. I don't care how you do it. Leave the stashes if you have to. We'll take care of it together later." Andrew said, sounding much more in control.

Neil spared a moment's thought on how tired he felt. He'd need to sleep at some point, but he didn't think he'd be able to rest until he'd gotten to Colombia. He wouldn't be able to sleep safely until he had Andrew at his back.

"I'll make it." Neil said faintly.

"Seriously, Andrew, who are you talking to? Do you have a girlfriend we don't know about? Did you meet him at Eden's?!" Nicky's voice flooded the phone line and Neil snorted. He sounded so young and frantic. Maybe being married to Erik actually did mellow Nicky out a bit.

"Shut up. Go bother Aaron." Andrew intoned, obviously not talking to Neil.

"What? But Aaron's not doing anything interesting. You're the one taking secret-" Nicky's voice cut out with a sharp yelp of pain.

"Get the fuck away from me, Nicky." Andrew sounded threatening and Neil couldn't help but smile.

No matter what was going on with them. No matter that they had apparently traveled to the past out of absolutely nowhere, Neil felt glad that at least he wasn't in this alone. Andrew, his Andrew, had come to this weird roller coaster with him. That thought, at least, was enough to keep him calm when nothing else would have.

"I'll be there soon, 'Drew. Find out what you're going to tell them when I get there, because I'm not sleeping in another motel." Neil teased, loving the huff he got in response.

"It's still our room, Idiot. Whatever is going on, you're still one of mine. Now get in the fucking car and drive."

"Yes, baby."

The next time he stopped was in Wyoming. He was quick to find a retirement home, j-rig a car, and take off. A small, compact Ford. Stick shift and oddly fast, which Neil hadn't been expecting. He'd gassed up quickly before pulling out his third burner and calling Andrew again. Using the same burner twice was dangerous, but with him on the road he could afford it.

"You better be more than half-way here Josten, or I'm going to feed you your balls."

"I just got to Wyoming, picked up what was left here. I slept for a little bit in the truck stop in the pickup. I'm in a black Ford crossing into Iowa on I-29. There's more there too. I should be there tomorrow 'Drew." Neil said, calmly focusing on the highway in front of him. He was tired and haggard, and desperate to reach some sort of safety. The little sleep he managed to get while crossing Montana had been plagued with dreams of his mother's face. Of fire and blood and his father's cleaver.

He still had a long way to go, and he'd likely only arrive late into the day tomorrow, but he wasn't going to sleep anyways. He'd been through worse.

"I got a visitor in school today." Andrew starts after his report, almost conversationally if it hadn't been for the pure apathy in his voice.

Neil didn't need Andrew to say it. He knew who it was and a cold sort of terror sank it's claws into his stomach. He'd nearly forgotten.

If they were both in the past, then his father wasn't the only one still alive.

"Riko and Kevin came to recruit you for the Ravens." Neil didn't ask, he stated.

"Yes." Was all Andrew responded with.

"You turned them down."

"Yes."

"They're going to send those guys after Nicky."

"Yes."

"Are you going to kill them?"

"No."

"Okay."

They were both silent as they thought about it. About how events were dominos lined together and one little action can send it all crashing down in a series of inevitable patterns.

"Andrew-" Neil starts, but it's cut off.

"I know what the cost is now. I'm not 17 anymore, Neil, no matter how fucking old I look."

"Have you told Nicky? Or Aaron?"

"And you seriously think they'd believe me?"

No…no he didn't think they would. They would both think that Andrew had finally gone off the deep end. Neil knew that, and still.

"Are all of you still working at Eden's?"

"Yes."

"Are you still seeing Roland."

Pause.

Neil bit his lip nervously, not actually sure why he'd asked that question. He usually wasn't a jealous person. He'd never actually felt jealous of Roland because when he and Andrew started their relationship, Roland was no longer part of the picture. He had Andrew's full attention, just like Andrew had his. Now though, they weren't exactly even in a relationship, or were they? Did it count when they were the only two to come back to the past; to a time when they didn't even know each other? Were there rules for this?

"No. I'm not seeing Roland." The bored tone didn't dampen Neil's relief at hearing the words from Andrew.

"Not pretty enough for you?" Neil found himself saying, wanting the normalcy of their banter.

"Not mouthy enough. I'm too used to having to shove my fingers in your mouth when I fuck you."

And oh…

His body burned with sudden arousal at the suddenly low tone of Andrew's voice. The deep gravel Andrew used just to see him shiver.

"Give me another 30-something hours, 'Drew." Neil replied thickly, memories coming up from the depth of his mind. Navy blue sheets on a king-sized bed, lubed fingers pressing pleasure into his body, sweat soaked blond hair sticking to flushed pale skin and molten hot hazel eyes staring down at him impassively, despite the desperate way pink lips and white teeth teased at his skin.

Andrew snorted before the line went dead in his hands.

He definitely wasn't going to get any sleep now. Just keep driving.

He stopped in Tennessee to jack another car for the final hours of his drive. He ended up nicking an old Toyota outside a pool hall near the gas station he left the Ford in.

He was crossing into North Carolina when he called Andrew again.

"You've got 12 hours, and then I'm coming after you." Andrew said as soon as he picked up.

"I'm crossing into North Carolina now. I should be there in less than 6 or so hours."

"Did you pick up a new car?"

"Yeah, an old Toyota, drives like shit, but it'll get me there. I'm going to drive it out into the junk yard and walk to Eden's. It'll be around 7 at night, can you pick me up."

"Are you stupid?"

"Is the answer yes?" Neil grinned a bit.

"Yes, the answers yes." Andrew sighed.

"Did you think of a lie for Nicky and Aaron."

"Fuck no, what do I care what they think."

"Are you going to make me sleep on the couch?"

"Fuck no, what do I care what they think."

Neil sighed. Taking comfort in the predictability of Andrew despite the dread he felt at meeting a Nicky and an Aaron who don't know, nor remember him. He'd never really been a fan of Aaron, but they had settled into a stalemate by the time the cousins had graduated. Nicky on the other hand, had always had a good relationship with Neil. Despite the turbulence of Neil's lies and subsequently his relationships with Andrew and Aaron, Nicky had always been an ice-breaker. Now, Neil's relationship with Andrew was already settled and sure, but how would that change the way Nicky reacted to him. How would things be different? Did Nicky and Aaron even know Andrew was gay yet? Neil remembered suddenly that Andrew had never told the two of them about his hook-ups with Roland. And now Neil was just going to show up acting like someone important and that was bound to get weird for everyone involved.

"Stop wasting time, Neil. I'll see you at Eden's."

Neil spent a good five minutes listening to the dial tone as he drove.

His father was alive and after him. Riko was alive. Kevin was still under Riko's thumb. Nobody but Andrew knew who Neil was. He'd called his Uncle Stuart to save his mother. The date was April 24th, 2003. He'd collected enough cash from Montana, Nebraska, and Iowa to gather up a million and a half in US dollars. He had bonds in the binder for another million, and stashed in Texas, Massachusetts, Maine, Pennsylvania, Arizona, Utah, and Nevada were another million all together if his mother didn't go collecting them herself, which he doubted she'd do.

He knew everything that would happen for the next 7 or 8 years.

And he was starting to think that maybe, he could avoid the worst of it. With Andrew's help, of course.