#is neil FINALLY going to therapy. consistently. and eventually willingly-

[mutopians]

what if i made an aftg oc whose one goal was dragging neil to therapy

[jostens-pitch]

the shuffling of cards

summary- non exy/mafia au where all andrew had known all his life was disappointments and despondency. he'd never wanted anything because he was always given nothing, but somehow neil had managed to become a something. told through unproductive therapy sessions and late night rooftop talks.

can be found on ao3 as well !

Andrew’s life consisted of disappointments and despondency. He didn’t believe in a god, but it was clear he had been dealt a bad hand of cards in this lifetime. There was no point sugarcoating it. His life amounted to nothing more than stifled cries for help and scars; late night terrors weighed down heavily on him.

Disappointments and despondency, that’s all Andrew knew; he was content with it.

He had to be content with the cards he was dealt, otherwise he’d drive himself insane trying to level the playing field. So on nights where his bed covers felt too similar to a body pressing against him, when the wind outside his window sounded too much like whispered threats, when his nightmares were hard to distinguish from reality, Andrew simply shut his eyes and imagined himself with a deck of cards. He shuffled them in his mind, forcing himself to focus on the reds and blacks that flashed each shuffle. It never calmed him, but it was enough for him.

Betsy was the only one who knew of the way Andrew viewed his life. It was obvious that she didn’t approve, often saying that by replacing himself with inanimate objects he was just repressing trauma. He didn’t care, but he had tried to reassure Betsy of her concerns during a particular session.

“I don’t even know how to play cards.” Andrew said.

“That’s not funny,” Betsy sighed. “You’re hurting.”

Andrew stared blankly at her, he had already begun to imagine shuffling a deck of cards. “I’m content.”

“‘Content’ and ‘lonely’ are closely related, Andrew.”

Reds, blacks, aces, diamonds, spades, clubs. They all flipped wildly through Andrew’s head, taunting him. He didn’t need anything or anyone. The cards had made sure of that the moment he was born. Only fools plagued by disappointment wished on stars for their wants. Andrew knew better than them, he knew the stars laughed at the fools; he knew they spit their wishes back at them. Andrew knew better, but he was human and he was weak.

The stars had spit Neil Josten back at Andrew.

It was the only explanation for the way the boy was thrown so suddenly into his life. Andrew had been content, he had his deck of cards and he had his disappointments. He didn’t want anything, he hadn’t looked to the stars for anyone. He was fine.

Yet Neil came crashing into Andrew’s life, bringing his secrets and his scars with him. He left burns where he landed long after the fire had been put out. He had become a shadow that loomed over Andrew, never getting too close or appearing too threatening. It was nauseating, so he avoided Neil at all costs.

Andrew could handle it though. The stars could go fuck themselves. Neil was nothing, and it would stay that way. The hand he had been dealt was all the guidance Andrew needed, its spades and diamonds becoming knives and bullets. As long as he had his knives and cards, there was nothing he needed. It had been that way for nineteen years.

“Neil seems to have become a permanent fixture in your life.” Betsy noted one session.

“What gave you that impression?” Andrew’s voice remained flat as usual.

“His name pops up frequently during my sessions with Aaron and Kevin.”

“Patient confidentiality, Doc.” He had reminded her.

Betsy rolled her eyes. “Maybe the cards have switched hands.”

“Ha,” Andrew huffed. “I forget you have a sense of humor.”

She had smiled at him, writing something down on her notepad. Andrew caught a glimpse of the words she had written, seeing “Neil”, “friends”, and “lonely”. He remembers frowning, not liking the connections Betsy had been drawing.

If she thought Neil was the answer to his problems, then Andrew had sorely mistaken Betsy’s abilities. There wasn’t an “answer” to anything relating to him. His mother hadn’t wanted him, he had been sexually abused for years, he went to juvie, he killed his mother, and he had survived it all by envisioning shuffling a deck of cards. Those weren’t problems that had solutions, it was just how his life was; disappointments and despondency.

-

During his freshman year at Palmetto, Andrew had discovered the rooftop of his dormitory building. He hated heights, but the air so high up was crisp and burned his lungs the same way a cigarette did. The view wasn’t anything impressive, but it made Andrew feel as if he was finally away from the men who had hurt him. He had spent a lot of nights sitting on the edge of the rooftop, shuffling cards in his mind and burning his lungs with smoke and cold air.

This year was no different; on the first night of sophomore year, Andrew made the journey up to the rooftop for a smoke and to clear his mind. His session with Betsy that day had rattled him more than it should have. She had decided today that they should discuss Andrew opening up more, maybe making friends this year. He ignored everything Betsy was saying, already knowing that what she wanted wasn’t realistic. Most wants weren’t. Andrew was perfectly fine with what he had, but the session had cast a shadow of doubt in his mind. He hated it.

He pushed the door to the rooftop open with unnecessary force and in his angry rush he almost didn’t see Neil slouched over the edge. Andrew froze, unsure of what to do. While Neil had been at Palmetto for the summer, Andrew had made sure he was never alone with him. It worked out, seeing as how Neil was always with Kevin and Aaron studying or with Matthew Boyd, who didn’t like Andrew. Thinking over his options, he was tempted to walk up behind the boy and thrust his arms out to push him off. He almost did, but when Neil turned to face him, he saw blue eyes that should’ve been brown. For a moment he thought it was a trick of the light, but-

“I don’t like surprises.” Andrew said.

Neil raised a brow. “Didn’t think you’d notice.”

Andrew ignored the remark and walked over to where he usually sat on the edge. He pulled out a cigarette and lit it with practiced ease. He knew he was stalling, but for once in his life Andrew didn’t know what to say. The implications behind Neil’s words were dangerous.

The cigarette smoke burned Andrew’s throat as he spoke. “Shouldn’t Boyd be babysitting you?”

“He’s with Dan.” Neil said with a shrug.

Andrew hated how Neil let his taunts roll off of him so easily. He brought his cigarette to his lips again and inhaled, watching Neil out of his peripheral vision. The thought of pushing him off the edge still seemed amusing to Andrew.

“You know,” Andrew said, turning to face Neil, “I could push you and make it look like an accident.” He blew smoke in the boy’s face.

To Andrew’s surprise, Neil breathed in the smoke with a smile on his face. The damn stars and fools he thought bitterly.

Neil took a moment to respond, still inhaling all the cigarette smoke he could. “Matt told me you’d threaten me eventually. It’s good to know you think so highly of me.”

Andrew huffed and took another drag from his cigarette, choosing not to dignify Neil’s words with a response. He’d let him think whatever he wanted. At the end of the day, all Andrew wanted was nothing. There was nothing on his mind, no one on his mind. Not even boys with pretty faces and eyes so blue they seemed to glow in the dark.

Silence settled upon them as Andrew finished the last of his smoke. He cursed at himself for leaving his pack back in his dorm. For once, he wished he had more than his deck of cards in his head to distract him. Neil’s presence, even sitting three feet away, was too much for Andrew. Just as he was about to get up and leave, Neil spoke.

“I wear colored contacts to stand out less, in case you were wondering.”

Andrew’s shoulders tensed. Why was he offering up a truth so willingly? Was he expecting something in return? No one offered themselves up without the reward of transparency.

“I don’t remember asking.” Andrew said.

Neil turned to him again, offering a small smile and a nod. “I know.”

They allowed silence to settle over them again, not moving until it was late and they had to go inside. Later that night, as the reds and blacks shuffled through Andrew’s mind, he thought he saw a flash of bright blue as well. He didn’t sleep that night.

-

Neil said things that made Andrew want to slit his throat and sew it back together again.

That’s all Andrew had come to learn during their nightly rooftop sessions. He hadn’t meant to make them more than a one time thing, but Neil kept showing up and Andrew couldn’t bring himself to tell him to fuck off. During the day they ignored each other, but when night fell they’d come together on the rooftop. Andrew had to remind himself often of the disappointments and despondency he’d come to rely on over the years.

Tonight, Neil turned to Andrew and said, “I know there’s more to you than cigarette smoke and knives.”

Andrew’s hand froze on its way to taking another drag from his cigarette. Once he noticed, he let his hand drop quickly next to him. Andrew knew Neil saw the way he reacted to the statement, and it made him want to push the cigarette into Neil’s lips and burn them. Maybe that would stop the boy from speaking.

The two stared at each other for several long minutes, Neil’s eyes expectant and curious while Andrew’s were cold and unbothered. Andrew could hear thunder rumbling, a storm brewing above them. He was tempted to just let the storm be an excuse to leave without answering, but before he knew it he was speaking.

“There’s also a deck of cards and being dealt a shitty hand.” Was all he said.

Neil, though visibly confused, seemed to accept the answer and turned back to face the lights of the buildings before them. They sat in silence as usual before the storm brought its rain and forced them inside.

Andrew was glad the storm came so quickly since Neil’s words were floating through his mind. He noted how he said “I know” instead of “I think”. Andrew spent the night in bed agitated at himself for allowing a runaway to read him so easily. Fuck whatever Neil thought he knew, fuck himself for giving more away more information, fuck everything.

Disappointments and despondency. That was it. That was all Andrew would allow himself to know. His deck of cards were all he needed. There was nothing more to him than that.

Nothing.

-

“You look more tired than usual.” Betsy observed during their session the next day.

Andrew glared at her, not feeling up to their usual banter today. Neil’s words had clung to his brain all night and no matter how many times he shuffled his deck of cards in his head, he hadn’t been able to calm down. It was infuriating being so weak.

Sensing his annoyance, Betsy set her notepad aside and leaned in closer to him. “Andrew, I know there’s something you’re not telling me.”

“Do you now?” Andrew said.

“Yes. It’s my job to know and it’s your job to tell me.” She pressed on.

Andrew looked down at his nails and began to pick at a piece of dry skin. “It’s not a job if I’m not getting paid for it, Doc.”

Betsy laughed, “Well I’m getting paid, so either you tell me what kept you up all night or we sit here for the next forty-five minutes. Either way, I’ll make money.”

It’s sessions like this that remind Andrew why Betsy has been the only psychiatrist to ever hold his attention longer than one visit. He knew that she was more than willing to sit and stare at him until their session ended, and normally Andrew would stare right back, but after last night he just felt raw.

Letting out a deep sigh, Andrew gave in. “I took your advice and befriended Neil Josten.”

“Andrew, that’s great-”

“Your advice was shitty.”

Betsy paused, startled by the quick change in Andrew’s demeanor. “May I ask how?”

“Little Neil seems to think he knows all about me.” He explained, making sure to keep any emotion out of his voice.

“Is there something wrong with him thinking that?” Betsy asked.

Andrew looked her in the eye. “You know about my deck of cards, don’t ask stupid questions.”

“My apologies, but maybe it’s a good thing. He seems to have taken an interest in you.”

“All he does is say things that make me want to cut into his face and rearrange it.”

Betsy grimaced at the visual and opened her mouth to respond, but a frantic knock on her office door cut her off.

“Ms. Dobson?” Andrew’s eyes widened slightly. He knew that voice almost too well. That voice asked him questions that made him want to peel his skin off and burn it.

Neil’s head popped up from behind the door before Betsy could stop him. He looked sweaty and out of breath, his eyes slightly panicked as he saw Andrew sitting in the chair. He clearly hadn’t known that Betsy would be in a session right now. Andrew couldn’t help but wonder why he seemed to be in such a rush to see her.

“Neil! I thought we had an appointment at three?” Betsy asked, getting up from behind her desk and meeting Neil at the door. Andrew curiously watched how they interacted.

“I- uh,” Neil opened the door fully and stepped inside, standing on the tips of his toes as if he was getting ready to run. He casted a weary glance at Andrew before speaking. “It's the FBI. They, uh, contacted me this morning and told me my dad is in custody.”

Andrew raised his eyebrows. The FBI? Interesting.

Betsy’s eyes widened, looking between Andrew and Neil for a few seconds before sighing.

“Andrew-” She started.

“I know,” He cut her off. “I’m not getting paid to be here anyways.”

Betsy smiled at the subtle joke, watching as Andrew collected his things and got up. He made sure to not look Neil’s way as he was scared his eyes would give away everything he wanted to ask the boy. He knew he’d have time tonight. There was no way Andrew was letting Neil skip out on their rooftop session. Tonight, he’d be the one asking questions.

-

For once Andrew was the first to arrive at the rooftop, so he sat at the edge and pulled out a cigarette to light. For the first time in a long time, he was alone on the roof. He thought he’d be relieved to be alone, but for some reason he felt like something was missing.

Disappointments, Andrew reminded himself, despondency.

"Content" and "lonely" are closely related, Betsy’s voice replied as a black spade shuffled after a red ace. Andrew scoffed at himself; even his mind was arguing with him now. Pathetic.

Andrew waited for nearly an hour for Neil to show. Once the hour had passed, he began to think that maybe the runaway had finally escaped. It wouldn’t have surprised him, it had been clear the day they met that Neil was a runner. It was one of the reasons why he avoided him for so long.

“My real hair color is this awful red-orange thing.”

Andrew couldn’t help but jump at the sound of Neil’s voice. He hadn’t heard the boy walk up behind him, which in itself made him uneasy. Andrew had come to survive on his hearing abilities warning him of threats approaching.

Turning around to face Neil, Andrew allowed his heartbeat to slow down before speaking. “Thank god for the brown, then.”

Neil let out an uneasy laugh. This was the first time Andrew had ever seen him so nervous around him. Normally he was teasing and unperturbed, always using his quick wit and cocky mouth to annoy Andrew. This quiet, insecure Neil was something he didn’t think he liked.

“Why did the FBI tell you that your dad is in custody? Normally a person is told by their frantic mother.” Andrew squared his shoulders and raised his chin, daring the boy standing in front of him to lie.

“My mother is dead.” Neil said, looking into his eyes.

Hiding his shock, Andrew carried on. “That’s not an answer.”

“It’s a long story and I’ll tell you whatever you want, but,” Neil stood up straighter, “I think it’s time you expose your truths as well.”

Andrew blinked at him. “I told you last night-”

“No, if I have to answer all your questions, then you have to answer mine.” Neil said.

Of course Neil wanted something in return, Andrew had known that from the start. He had known that no sane being would offer to expose their soul without some consolation. It was human nature, and Andrew knew human nature more than anyone. Still, it didn’t lessen the blow of disappointment he felt in his chest, but he figured it was only fair. An eye for an eye; a truth for a truth.

“Fair enough.” He replied, lighting another cigarette.

Neil nodded, shuffling over to where he normally sat during their rooftop sessions. He took a few moments to collect himself, inhaling the smoke that Andrew blew out and slowly returning to the Neil that Andrew had come to tolerate.

“My mother wasn’t a good person, and my dad sure as hell isn’t one either.” Neil began. Andrew turned his attention to him, his deck of cards had been put away. “My dad is a big time crime boss back in Baltimore. Everyone calls him the Butcher. He… he was awful.”

Neil leaned back from the edge and lifted his shirt up, and Andrew surveyed the scars that were just barely visible in the moonlight. “All the big scars are from him. He tormented my childhood until I was ten. That’s when my mother stole some money from him and we became runaways; that’s where my smaller scars are from.

“My mother did everything she could to keep me safe from him. Her methods were… extreme, but they kept us alive. She’d beat me if I looked too suspicious or if I complained. I remember this one time when she repeatedly kicked me in the stomach for not finishing a meal.” Neil’s hands went to his stomach, touching it gently as if he could still feel her kicks.

“Every few months I had a new name, a new face, a new home; we were constantly on the move since my dad had his men searching for us. Whenever they found us, we would just barely manage to make it out alive. It was exhausting living in fear of being caught and tortured to death. We managed to outlast them for eight years, but eventually they won. My mother died a few days after they had ambushed us. I-I thought she was fine, but I guess she had internal bleeding.”

Neil took a shaky breath and Andrew noticed with alarm that he was crying. He had never been good at comforting someone given the fact that no one had ever comforted him. Neil’s tears shined against his face and made Andrew want to reach out and brush them away. Instead, he took the cowardly way out and pretended he hadn’t seen the tears.

“Still wondering how the FBI is involved.” Andrew said, glancing at Neil.

Neil snorted at him. “You have no patience, do you?”

Andrew shrugged. “I’ve been told it’s something I need to work on.”

Shaking his head, Neil continued. “When my mom died, I freaked out. We were in the middle of nowhere somewhere on the east coast. All that was around us was the beach and a forest. I had parked our car and pried her bloody body out of the passenger seat; I knew I had to bury her, so I did. Once I was done, I went back to the car and set it on fire so no one would know what had happened and walked away. I walked aimlessly for a few hours before the cop cars pulled up next to me. Apparently a woman had seen me burying my mother’s body and burning the car, so she called the police.

“I had been too emotionally drained to protest as they put me in handcuffs and drove me away. All that I was aware of was the fact that I was getting further and further away from her body. Once they had me in custody, all the years of hiding and running had caught up to me. I told them everything, from who my dad is to how my mother died. They didn’t believe me, but once the FBI took over it was clear that I was telling the truth.”

“And I’m assuming the FBI just dropped you off here at Palmetto for safekeeping?” Andrew interrupted.

Shrugging, Neil nodded. “Yeah, that’s kind of how it went. They told me that I could come here if I changed my name and promised to never contact my dad or his men. They said that if I gave them all the information I knew, they’d keep me safe here while they went after him. It wasn’t a hard deal to accept.”

Andrew processed everything he had been told. As barbaric as the story had been, he knew Neil couldn’t have been lying. It was too elaborate to make up, and judging the way he reacted in Betsy’s office that day he had seemed genuinely alarmed. He rubbed his eyes, suddenly tired.

“Alright.” He said.

“Any more questions?” Neil teased, not really expecting a response.

“Actually, yes. What’s your real name?”

Neil’s smile vanished and he turned away. “You really don’t hold back, huh?”

Andrew stared at him, waited for an answer. Really, he was just stalling in hopes of Neil forgetting to ask questions himself. He wasn’t sure if he was ready to tell anyone anything. Not even Betsy knew the full story.

“Fine,” Neil huffed. “It’s Nathaniel Wesninski.”

“Quite a mouthful.” Andrew said.

It was quiet for the next half hour as both of them let Neil’s words sink in. Andrew could tell it had taken a lot to tell his story, though that didn’t mean he’d pity him. Life had been cruel to them both, dealing them the worst hands it could.

“It’s your turn.” Neil said softly after a while.

Andrew felt his breath escape him, refusing to face Neil. If he was going to tell his story, he would pretend that he was by himself on the rooftop, speaking to the stars as they fooled poor souls.

“My mother hadn’t wanted twins, so she kept my brother and threw me out. It was a poor choice, really. I’m far better than Aaron. Went into the foster care system, got tossed around by a bunch of old men who liked to touch little kids, found a really good foster mom whose son liked it when I stifled my cries into my pillow. Stayed there until I found out I had a brother and he threatened to hurt him as well. Moved in with Aaron and his mom, found out she beat him regularly, killed her for it and made him hate me. I ended up in juvie for a few years, got released, and then lived with Nicky and Aaron until we came here. The end.” Andrew took a deep breath once he was done.

It took several heartbeats for Andrew to gain the courage to look at Neil, who had been silent the moment the story was finished. He couldn’t tell whether or not the boy was alarmed, but Andrew doubted Neil was in a position to judge him. Some people killed their moms, others buried them.

“I didn’t even get to ask a question. This hardly seems fair.” Neil finally said.

Andrew allowed a ghost of a smile to grace his face. Disappointments and despondency had been all he had known for nineteen years, his cards had been his security blanket. Now, here was a boy with fake brown hair and ridiculously oversized clothes who seemed to be doing everything right. Andrew had never needed anything, but maybe this nothing could stay.

-

After they traded their stories that night, nothing had really changed between Andrew and Neil. They still did their nightly rooftop meetups, they still avoided each other during the day, and they still sat in silence until Neil managed to say something that made Andrew’s heart stop. The only change had been Andrew now wanting to kiss Neil’s lips instead of burning them with a cigarette.

The change had been terrifying for Andrew once he realized it. He had never wanted anything in his life before. He’d never wanted Christmas gifts or a lock on his bedroom door. He’d never wanted a family who loved him back or hands that protected him instead of violating him. All he had needed were his cards and its knives and bullets. Yet Andrew wanted Neil Josten, a runaway with a past that rivaled his own traumas. He told Betsy this during one of their sessions.

“That’s great, Andrew!” She had exclaimed. The smile she flashed him had been one filled with pride. Andrew looked away from it.

“He’s still nothing to me.” He had deflected.

Betsy shook her head. “I think he’s something.”

“Maybe,” Andrew glanced up at her, “but I’m sure you know me well enough to know I won’t do anything about it.”

Betsy’s smile had been a sad one.

Andrew replayed their conversation continuously in his head after their session had ended. He wasn’t ready to admit it just yet, but a part of him knew that Betsy was right. Somehow, in between their late night smokes and unwilling truth sharing, Neil had become something to Andrew. Something that he wanted to kiss, maybe even hold close if he could.

It was almost as if life had spared him another chance, shuffling the cards on its own and dealing a new hand to him. Maybe the stars hadn’t spit Neil Josten back at Andrew in spite, but rather as an apology. If this something was worth his time, he thought that perhaps he had a right to find out.

Fuck disappointments and despondency, Andrew could feel that the new hand he had been dealt was a good one.

-

“I know you hate wants, but I know you want something.” Neil said a few nights later.

He had come up onto the rooftop a few minutes after Andrew, bouncing around the area and swinging himself in circles like a little kid. It was the most carefree he’d ever been on the roof, and it was then that Andrew noticed that his hair was now auburn.

“I want you to go back to brown.” Andrew replied, watching as he finally sat down on the edge.

Neil flashed him a smile, running his fingers through his hair. “Something tells me you actually like redheads.”

Andrew felt his face flush at the wink sent his way. He flipped Neil off and took a drag from his cigarette. The fucker was right, but he’d be damned if he let him know it.

“All I want is nothing.” A cloud of smoke escaped Andrew’s mouth as he spoke.

Leaning close to him, Neil whispered, “I’m nothing.”

He was especially bold tonight, something that made Andrew’s skin burn pleasantly. It was a weird sensation he’d never felt before, actually wanting the attention he was receiving. Tonight was full of firsts, it seemed.

“How are you so sure of my feelings for you?” Andrew asked, allowing himself to lean in closer as well. For once, not knowing what might happen next didn’t scare him.

“You hate being vulnerable. That’s how I know.”

All the air was knocked out of Andrew’s lungs. He searched Neil’s face, looking for any indication that this was just a game to him. When he found nothing, his heartbeat sped up. Neil was staring just as intensely back at him, his face raw and readable.

Andrew inhaled shakily, moving his hand up to hover a few inches in front of Neil’s cheek. “Can I touch you?”

“Yes.” Neil nodded. Andrew’s hand pressed carefully against his cheek, he gently smoothed the tender skin underneath his thumb.

“Can I kiss you?”

Neil looked into Andrew’s eyes, and it was then he was sure that he had finally been dealt a perfect hand. “Yes.”

Andrew pressed their lips together as soon as he knew he could. He hadn’t known just how much had wanted this until now. The feeling of Neil’s rough and chapped lips against his felt like sinning in heaven. It felt right yet tasted dangerous. It was maddening and it was addicting. For just a second, Andrew felt like the giddy little kid he never got to be.

Neil was the first to break the kiss, pressing his forehead against Andrew’s. “Woah.”

Andrew didn’t say anything, but he allowed his thumb to graze against Neil’s cheek once more. This close, he noticed freckles scattered along his face and Andrew resisted the urge to kiss every last one of them. Somehow, he knew that this is what coming home felt like.

“Oh, fuck.” Neil threw his head back with a groan.

Andrew frowned, pulling away slightly. “I was told I’m a good kisser.”

Rolling his eyes, Neil dug through his pants and pulled out his wallet. He counted the bills inside and groaned once more. “I owe Kevin twenty bucks.”

“Care to lend me five dollars? I think Bee was secretly betting on this too.”

“Fuck you.”

Andrew smiled, covering it with his hand. He was used to disappointments and despondency, so this was a nice change of pace. He was finally done shuffling his cards.