I feel this answer veered far off track into the left field along the way.

Re: the new power balance in the team.. So long as Kevin’s safe and Aaron didn’t become besties with the Foxes in Andrew’s absence, Andrew can work around whatever else the team is becoming. Andrew’s disinterest in the Foxes is outweighed only by his interest in watching what Neil does to them—it’s illogical and insensible that a mouthy pathological liar can earn everyone’s adoration and trust. What’s not okay and not funny is the power that he unintentionally gave Neil over him, and that’s a rude awakening of its own.

Re: Neil’s wounds.. Nicky thinks it’s heartlessness when Andrew refuses to acknowledge Neil’s injuries, but Andrew doesn’t care about the injuries because as far as he’s concerned, he and Neil knew months ago that they were going to happen. Neil set himself up as a target when he promised to protect Kevin in Andrew’s absence. Why would he be sorry for something that Neil specifically asked for? Andrew doesn’t believe in pity or regret, and he’s sure as hell not gonna start feeling bad now. So long as Neil agrees that this damage wasn’t caused by his father, Andrew can focus on the more important problem of Neil’s changed appearance.

((It’s an entirely different story when Andrew sees Nathaniel, and let me just say it is a damned good thing Neil got Andrew to revoke his protection at the end of the countdown. If Neil hadn’t gotten Andrew to let him go and then Andrew failed to protect him from his father’s people, Andrew and Neil’s relationship would never have recovered. Andrew wouldn’t have been able to get over it.))

Then Neil says Proust and that’s a problem, because that’s not how this works. Having someone else take the hits for him means Andrew couldn’t take them himself. It’s a judgment call against who he is and what he can handle and Neil is the last person who should make that mistake as far as Andrew is concerned. Neil, who is so stupid but so smart, who always looks a heartbeat from running but refuses to leave the court, does not have the right to assume that Andrew needs protecting, to judge Andrew as weak and defenseless.

And then “If it means losing you, then no.”

And that—that was supposed to be a side effect of the drugs.

That wasn’t supposed to be real, that deep and endless need that looks past absolutely everything else gone wrong in Neil’s life and sees only Andrew. Like Andrew can be the answer to anyone’s problems! Andrew is the solution like a pickaxe is the solution. He’s a sharp tool to clear a path and warn off wolves and cut whoever is clumsy enough to mishandle him. Andrew is a man surviving on promises, biding his time until death. He’s still coming to terms with how bleak the world is without his drugs to keep him entertained—he’d forgotten how boring existence was, how annoying it is to have to breathe and go through the motions day after day. He is here until he is gone and that is how it always will be.

Neil is not supposed to be the answer, this two-faced child who should have broken years ago, who tries to keep everyone at arm’s length but hangs on as tight as he can with bruised and bloody knuckles. Neil is not reason enough to wake up, to look back, to try a little harder. One man is not reason enough to live. Andrew knows better than to believe these lies, than to think that look could be anything but a ploy for more favors and protection. He knows better, but—