Thinking about Wymack picking up Neil from the airport at new years. It takes him a while to spot Neil because of course his hair is back to it's natural colour but Wymack would notice those hunched over shoulders anywhere, shoulders that look like they're carrying a weight so heavy Wymack would never know the pressure of it. And that's how he knows it's his Neil. His hands always fisted around the strap of that goddamn duffle bag.
Then Neil is sitting in Wymack's car, and he can sense the tension in Neil's body, the careful way he holds himself hiding how much pain he's in, how broken he is in that moment. Neil falls asleep within minutes, so Wymack spends the rest of the journey driving as careful as he possibly can so as not to jostle Neil in the car as he sleeps. He turns the heating up too keeping Neil warm and comfortable. He tries not to think about all the questions that make his grip tighten on the steering wheel.
Next is the mission of getting Neil up to his apartment. He doesn't want to wake him, though it doesn't seem like it would be possible right now anyway. Neil seems completely gone. If it wasn't for the steady rise and fall of his chest he could be dead. So Wymack grabs Neil's bag, throws it over himself before gently reaching into the car to carry Neil out. He's heavier than Wymack would have expected, considering how small he seemed when he first spotted him hunched over on the curb outside the airport.
The ride up on the elevator seems longer than usual, and at some point Wymack feels the weight of Neil's head falling back so he gently shifts him so his head lands on Wymack's shoulder instead. He sighs deeply and curses under his breath, at what he doesn't know. For a second he's back in the hallway of his apartment watching Neil flinch from him for the first time, and now he's asleep broken and bruised in his arms. There's something to be said about the irony in that he's sure.
Finally he's in his apartment, gently laying Neil down onto his sofa. He pries his shoes off and then hesitates. His hands moving automatically to unzip Neil's coat to make him more comfortable, but he doesn't want to touch him without his consent. So, he leaves the jacket. He shoves a pillow under his head though, his hand resting atop Neil's now burnt orange curls a second longer than was necessary.
He drags his desk chair into the room, careful not to make too much noise. He needs to be by his side, needs to be there when Neil wakes up so he doesn't panic. He pours himself a drink and watches Neil sleep, his eyes fixed on his chest again, focused on that steady rise and fall. Wymack drinks. Neil sleeps. Those million questions are running through his head again, but the most burning and pressing of them all is how could I let this happen to one of my kids?
yousharknotpass
gummygunk
