Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It took Jean three tries before he could bring himself to grab the phone. The weight of it was heavy. Realistically, Jean was aware that the new contacts inside did nothing to change the bulk of the cell in his hand, but somehow it all felt weighted. Perhaps, because the new contacts were people he could expect to pick up if he called. He sighed.

He wished he could bring this issue to Lalia or even Cat. It wasn’t that he didn’t think they would give him good advice. It’s just that they would be so helpful. They would be happy for him, maybe too much so, and Jean wasn’t sure he needed that. He was sure he didn’t need any more hope taking up his space in his chest. He rubbed at his chest where he knew his spiral scar was and frowned. Hope was an interesting thing, as elusive and tricky as the fox he was trying to avoid. Jean tossed his phone on his bed and watched as it bounced on the sheets.

Jeremy wasn’t home tonight, too tied up being the dutiful son in that cold house. Their room was so large without him in it. There was too much room for Jean’s thoughts to bounce off the walls. Too much space. Too much air, and too much room for hope to grow.

A loud bark noise sounded from the bed and Jean jumped. He looked around for Jeremy’s stupid cardboard dog but he must have still been hidden between the fridge and the kitchen wall where Jean last hid him. The bark sounded again and Jean realized that it was coming from his phone. He inched up to the bed slowly before flipping the phone over. The screen lit up with an incoming text.

Jeremy: Is there a French word 4 ‘bored out of my mind”?

There were a few, but Jean wasn’t going to let Jeremy know that. He took a minute to type out his reply.

Jean: Jeremy, why are you barking

Jeremy’s text came back immediately

Jeremy: 😂 C did that. Said we’d match

Jean looked down at his phone with his eyebrows scrunched.

Jeremy: I hope that's ok??

Jean rolled his eyes.

Jean: It is very annoying.

Jean: But it is okay.

Jean felt an upward tug at the side of his lip and ran a finger over it. It was an odd sensation. He looked at the phone in his hands, waiting to see if any more barks were going to come from it. When nothing came he felt an odd sense of disappointment crash over him. He shook his head. This was the crux of the problem, wasn’t it? Somehow, no matter how much he wanted to put it off, here he was again with the phone in his hand. He had to bite the bullet. The phone rang twice.

   “Neil.”

It still felt weird to hear the little cretin fox say that name. Nathaniel was someone Jean could understand. He was a nuisance but one that Jean could decode. Someone who could be a partner, an almost Raven. Neil Josten was an enigma, a fox, someone that Jean could never hold onto. Neil Josten talked back to the Master and made deals with his betters. Neil Josten was allowed a life, a love. He had hope, and Jean hated him for it. If he could carve it out of the little fox and steal it for himself he would. He may not deserve it, but he craved it and that was almost as dangerous as having it. Almost.

   “If I asked you for help, could you do it discreetly?” Jean heard some shuffling from the other line.

   “Are the Ravens-”

   “No.” Jean had to close that line of thinking quickly. If he thought of the Raven’s for too long he wouldn’t be able to go through with this. They would eat up his thoughts and remind him of exactly what he was worth. “No, it’s not them.”

   “What’s the problem then?”

Jean pursed his lips, trying to see if his tongue would betray him and let it all spill out from him.

  “Are you alone?”

   “Kevin, Andrew, and I were about to go to court but I sent them ahead. What is it?”

Jean knew the time was late where they were but it did not surprise him that they were still practicing. He was glad that Neil’s short goalie was gone, but even more so that Kevin wouldn’t be able to overhear this.

   “How did you- I mean.” Jean swallowed. “How is he allowed?” His words were said in such a rush that he was unsure that he got them out, but Neil must have heard him anyway.

   “Who? Kevin?”

Jean’s throat tightened at Kevin’s name. Another line of thought he couldn’t go down or he’d drown.

“Your goalie. Andrew. How are you allowed to keep him? To love him?”

   “I never said love.”

  “Neil.” Jean’s voice was hard and he heard Neil's deep sigh. “I don’t know what it is, Jean. Not love. Something…else.”

   “Something bigger?”

   “Something more permanent.” There was a pause on Neil's side and more shuffling noises like he was sitting down. “Did you call me to ask about Andrew?”

Jean didn’t care about Kevin’s pet goalkeeper. Not really, but what he did care about was Neil’s relationship with him. Because if Neil was allowed someone to hold on to. Someone to make him feel permanent. Could Jean be allowed the same thing? Jean Moreau was Perfect Court. He was not allowed to be a coward. He steeled himself.

   “I called you to ask about Jeremy. Do you think,” Jean didn’t know what words to use to express this gnawing so he borrowed Neil’s, “could he be something permanent too?”

Jean wondered if there was an award for quieting Neil so much. If he knew that personal questions were the way to get the wayward fox to shut up, he might have done this sooner.

“I think that’s up to you, Jean–Yves.” The line was dead before Jean could even register his name on Josten’s lips.

Chapter Text

Some things made it easy for Jean to remember that he was allowed to have wants and needs.
Exy was not one of those things.

Exy was breathing, something vital to survival that Jean did not think much about. It was a sport with teeth, yes, but somehow the Trojans found a way to put a muzzle on it. To put a muzzle on him.

He didn’t want to hurt Tanner. It's just his game would be so much smoother if he did. His call with Neil had left him wired, too exposed. He must be infected by the Trojans' madness to believe he could hold onto Jeremy.

His captain was chatting with Coach Rhemann across the field, his hands waving. How could he be so carefree with the coaches?

“Jean! Jean! You’re not even watching me.”

“I don’t need to look at you to know your footwork is off.” Jean’s gaze returned to the freshman who adjusted his stance.

Instead of a dog, Jeremy should just adopt Tanner. The younger boy followed Jean around and yipped at his heels like a puppy would. He was slowly improving each practice but it wasn’t enough. Jean sighed and put his racquet between Tanner’s legs, slowly pushing before he widened his stance more. Tanner looked unbalanced, it would take months until this position was second nature to him. It had taken Kevin a week.

Jean shook thoughts of Kevin out of his head. He ran drills with Tanner until they were both soaked with sweat. It felt good to be boneless. Good, but not enough.

His shower was quicker than usual, a new record for him. It would take Jeremy a while to catch up. Longer if he got pulled into a conversation with one of their teammates. Jean pulled out his phone and stared at the call log. Neil’s number stared back at him, incriminating evidence of his weakness. It had been a week since their short call. Jean had done nothing with it. He hated how he felt the urge to dial the number. For what?

Riko had made it clear to him that boys did not talk to other boys like this. They did not ask for help, they did not talk about feelings. They most certainly never wanted to kiss other boys. Not like this.

It didn’t matter that Nathaniel had understood. Neil was someone else entirely. How could Jean even get these words out?

I can’t be around water.

I miss Elodie.

I’m sorry.

No. These things couldn’t be allowed to be uttered. It hurt enough to think. They were Jean’s burden alone. It was what he deserved. It didn’t matter that he knew Neil would answer. That Neil knew about survival, about sacrifice.
How could he understand Jean when Neil didn’t know how to yield? To kneel?

When Neil called him Jean-Yeves, did he know that it would burn?

Jean’s room was accumulating clutter. He didn’t notice it at first. There were a few socks here and there spreading from Jeremy’s side of the room over to him. There were socks, crumpled bits of paper with Jeremy’s messy scrawl, and French notes everywhere. The clutter was unsettling. The Nest was sterile. How could one accumulate a mess when they only used their room for studying and rest?

Jeremy was an explosion everywhere he went. He could not help but leave a trace of himself wherever he touched. His discarded shorts in the middle of the floor were the newest edition. He must have changed while Jean was in the kitchen with the girls.

Jean had spent years in the Nest. There were so many bodies there. The Ravens were so tightly wound they became one, a mess of limbs and hunger. He was used to sharing space. Jean hardly knew how to breathe without another body sharing the same air. Why was it about this boy? This boy taking up his space and causing this ache in him? He felt this pull once before. It hadn’t ended well for him.

Jean’s side of the room was better, safer. His desk was clean and functional, as it was meant to be. He had his picture of Renee but that wasn’t clutter. That was a lifeline.

Neil once told him everything he owned could fit safely in a duffle bag. This Jean understood. Spreading out felt too open. Having items fill up drawers and closets felt too close to putting down roots. It felt like showing your hand. Someone like Jeremy could do that. He could afford to give himself away. To feel comfortable leaving things behind.

If Jean was no longer here, who would hang up his blue shirts? Who would tuck away his postcards and return his picture of Renee? He refused to be a burden after he was gone. Being one while he was a life was enough. Having things felt like a liability waiting to happen. He couldn’t help it though. Jean had always been weak, he knew that. It was why he reached for Neil instead of Renee. It was why he was here now, in his halfway dirty room alone, instead of out running with Jeremy. Jean wanted to have roots. He just didn’t trust himself to plant them.

Chapter Text

Jeremy 

Jean was acting weird lately. Well, weirder than usual. 

If he didn’t know any better, he would think his morose Frenchman had been avoiding him. For someone who said he needed the consistent presence of a partner, he’d barely seen Jean outside of practices. If Jeremy were home, Jean would be leaving with Cat to go to the store. If Jeremy wanted to go for a run, suddenly Jean needed to do homework in their room. Jeremy was constantly amazed how such a big man could take up so little room. It was frustrating.

He paused his youtube video for the fourth time in fifteen minutes. The man said the trick was pretty easy to learn, but Jeremy continued to end up with a mess of strings tangled in his hands. By the time his therapist ushered him in, Jeremy had barely gotten the yo-yo to look like a tower. 

The session went about as well as always. He didn’t mind them, but he was left feeling a little raw afterwards. Again, his mind ventured towards Jean. He knew he couldn’t push him to speak until he was ready, but if anyone could benefit from a licensed professional, it was Jean Moreau. 

It was a rare treat that Jeremy didn’t have any plans, and he was feeling antsy with the possibility. His phone offered a bouquet of options. Leonard would be home, but the light of the day made reconnecting with him too risky. It was a lot harder to climb into his room under the eyes of the afternoon sun. His fingers fell onto Jean’s contact. Jean wasn’t the best texter, but Jeremy could amuse himself by imagining Jean’s reaction to the dog ringtone Cat had snuck on his phone. He could imagine the pinch of his eyebrows and the roll of his eyes as he picked up his phone. 

Before Jeremy could type out his message, his phone buzzed in his hand. Jeremy couldn’t keep his smile from escaping. Jean rarely called. Even when he realized it wasn’t Jean’s name that popped up on the screen, his grin stayed. 

Incoming Call from Kevin 2 👑….

Well, that was a pleasant surprise. 

“Kevin! How are you-”

“Thea’s dead.”

Jeremy paused. The other line was so quiet that he had to look at the phone to make sure that Kevin had not hung up.

“Repeat that?” Jeremy asked, an uncomfortable laugh escaping his mouth.

“She was found in her apartment. The’ye saying she killed herself, but she…she wouldn’t have done that.”

“Fuck man, I’m sorry.” 

Jeremy had heard that Kevin and Thea were an item, an impressive thing considering their intense schedules. He could not hear pain in Kevin’s firm voice but he was sure it was there.

“It’s… yeah. I need a favor from you.”

Kevin was not one for 'please' or 'thank yous.' He was the friend who told you how things were going to be, and in this instance, Jeremy couldn’t fault him for that.

“Yeah, of course. Whatever you need.”

“I need you to tell Jean for me, and then I need you to get him on the plane here. He won’t want to come, but he has to be at the funeral.”

Jeremy sighed. He suddenly had plans. He would need to inform his parents that he was going to Virginia. Maybe he could convince Cat and Laila to join, too. Then he’d have to find Jean and get him to stop avoiding him long enough for a talk. 

“I’ll do it. I’ll get him there. Just text me the information.” Jeremy paused, thinking about Jean’s reaction to the other Ravens' deaths. “Were they.. close?”

Kevin’s response was late but firm. “They were once.” 

The Queen of Exy never said goodbye when he hung up, so Jeremy was not surprised to hear the line go dead. 

Chapter Text

It made sense Kevin called Jeremy first. It’s what Jean would have done. It didn’t make it hurt any less. Jean wished he could say he remembered getting on the plane. That he remembered pulling on his black button down, because Thea wouldn’t want him to mourn in anything other than Raven colors even if the sight of his newly sun-kissed skin against the dark colors made him want to claw out his eyes. He wished he remembered the soft press of Cat’s lips to his forehead or Laila’s firm hug, how he relished in the seconds until she let him go. Jeremy walking him to the airport and ushering him through security. Jeremy holding his hand on the plane. Jeremy calling them a cab to the hotel. Jeremy telling the reporters that got too close to "Have a winning day.” Jean knew none of that would stay. There was only one fact of the day. One memory allowed to stain his mind. 

Thea Muldani was dead. Thea Muldani was dead and Kevin had called Jeremy instead of Jean. It didn’t feel real.  Jean knew it was his fault. Every Raven's death after Riko had been Jean’s fault. The weight of their claws in Jean’s back would never cease. No wonder Kevin did not want his comfort. Jean had killed the one person Kevin had allowed himself to love. 

Jean had loved Thea once too. Not in the way Kevin had, but valid all the same  Spilled blood held more weight than inherited blood, and the Ravens had shed a lot together. They were his family. Jean had loved all of the Ravens, just a little bit, even as he hated them.  It burned to remember the last time Jean had seen Thea. Her mouth scrunched in disgust as he questioned Jean about his time with the Ravens. About his loyalty. 

Jeremy’s hand shot out to cover Jean’s. Jean hadn’t realized he’d start picking at the crusted blood on his knuckles. He could barely remember the punch. The way his skin broke open as he hit his wall over and over again until Laila had come in screaming. 

Jeremy’s mouth opened but whatever he was about to say was interrupted by a short knock on their hotel door. 

A few moments later Neil Josten followed by his forever shadow, Andrew Minyard, stepped in. 

  “Raven’s are dying and you didn’t think to lock the doors?” Neil asked. 

Jeremy stood up and sent Neil an uneasy smile, showing half the teeth he usually did. 

  “That’s my bad, we kind of,” Jeremy scratched at his neck and gestured into the room where their suitcases sat close to the door. “We hadn’t been here long.”

Andrew took it upon himself to sit on the bed opposite Jeremy. Jean wondered how Jeremy was surviving the heat of the perusal Andrew sent him before the short nightmare’s eyes flickered away and like a moth to a flame landed back on Neil with a bored expression Jean didn’t believe. 

  “What are you doing here Nathaniel?” 

  “Neil.” Andrew immediately corrected, crossing his arms. Jean noticed the goalies fingers flexing. He wondered if he had taken Jean’s advice about quitting smoking.

   “I thought we were over that Jean-Yves.” Neil retorted with a meaningful glance at Jeremy. Jean felt his ears warm at the reminder of their last call. He didn’t know why he had felt like he’d needed to provoke Neil. It just felt better than this burning in his chest. 

   “Jean-Yves?” Jeremy responded looking between Jean and Neil. Jean shrugged and looked away but he kept hearing his name repeating in Jeremy’s voice like a new heartbeat. 

Jean-Yves.

Jean-Yves.

Jean-Yves.

When Neil said it, it broke Jean. It felt like an unfulfilled promise, and abandoned dream. Hearing it from Jeremy’s lips was worse. Jean wished he could lick the words out of Jeremy’s mouth, the thought of it tasted too much like hope, like Jean was worth something. 

That couldn’t be true. Thea Muldani was dead because of Jean. The last line in a long list of tragedies attached to his grave.

  “Where is Kevin?” Jean asked. 

Neil’s eyes were heavy on Jean’s face, as if he was deciding whether or not to let Jean get away with this topic change. 

  “He wanted to hit the court one more time before he changed for the funeral.”

Jean flinched at the word funeral.

  “He had the right idea. I’m surprised you did not join them.” Jean replied.

  “He certainly did not have the right idea. Kevin should be grieving not playing right now.” Jeremy protested.

Neil’s eyes stayed pierced to Jean’s face. 

  “I would have been but I had a feeling we needed to stop here.” 

Neil's eyes moved down  and Jean tried to remove his scabbed knuckles from Neil's eyesight.

  “Are you sure you weren’t a Raven?” Jeremy muttered. This finally got Neil to move his attention away from Jean. Jeremy shrugged, “I just mean, you think alike. None of us should be on the court right now.”

Neil smiled. Jean hated this smile, it reminded him of the other Nathaniel. 

  “I’d rather be anywhere than a Raven’s funeral. Those bastards could burn in hell for all I care. Thea was a great player. I hate to see the national team lose a star, but she’s still a Raven. Most of them never stop being one.” Neil didn’t return his gaze to Jean but Jean felt the weight of his stare regardless. 

Jeremy looked at Andrew for understanding, but found none so he sat back down on the bed by Jean. 

  “Did you guys bring your clothes to change into?” Jeremy asked.

At this Neil’s shadow grinned and Jean couldn’t determine which of the two had the worse smile. 

  “Change? Why would we?”

Jean’s heart exploded. He reached up to grasp his chest and make sure he wasn’t bleeding out.

  “You can’t be serious. Even you must have better manners.” Jean bit out. 

Neil just shrugged and Andrew likewise seemed to be disinterested in the conversation of appropriate attire. 

The pair had their matching wristbands, but that was the only scrap of black clothing on their bodies. 

Andrew wore a white skin-tight athletic tank and some dark joggers. Jean had never seen Andrew wear such light clothing, so he was sure this was done with intention. Which made Neil’s ensemble even worse.  Neil tilted his head at Jean as he watched him eye his ensemble.

  “Mas- They will kill you.” Jean sputtered. 

  “They won’t. I’m an investment.” Neil shrugged. His hateful smile returning to its home in his mouth.

  “I have a shirt you could borrow. Although, it may be a little long for you.” Jeremy offered.

  “I’m good, thanks.” Neil responded. 

One day Neil Josten was going to kill Jean. Or get Jean killed. Either way it would act as a sort of poetic justice. 

Neil was wearing an orange button down, the material shiny and obviously new, with a fox embroidered onto the pocket. 

  “I will never let a Raven see me in black again.” 

Chapter Text

Jean spent most of Thea’s service staring at the back of Kevin’s head. He must have had a haircut recently, and whoever did it missed a piece. It curled up on his neck. Jean busied himself with the curve of it as the priest droned on. Kevin sat with Thea’s family in the front with his back straight in his tailored black suit. It was the first time Jean had seen him in months, and all he could see was the back of his head and the leftover curl. 

 Compared to what was going on outside the church, the service felt quiet. Unnervingly so. Jean was used to the Ravens banding together and had been prepared to see his former teammates in the sea of black. His master sat beside them. But the truth was, besides Jean, Kevin was the only Raven that showed up. Thea’s new teammates took up two pews, and Jean tried not to feel their stares when they glanced back at him. 

They must have seen what Jean knew. That this was his fault. If he hadn't spoken to Renee, if he hadn't joined the Trojans, this never would have happened. If Jean had remembered his place, Thea would still be alive. 

Thinking of Renee was not safe right now. She had sent him seven messages since the news of Thea broke. Two to check on him and five to distract his mind. Jean had ignored them all. Why did he deserve rainbows when his family was dying because of him? 

The priest asked if anyone had any words they’d like to say, and one of Thea’s former teammates stood up. Daniel Fletcher, striker. He’s good, but Neil would be better. 

Daniel’s speech was short and followed by three more of the Houston Sirens.

Then Kevin stood. Jean leaned up. He could feel Jeremy’s eyes on him, but he was focused on Kevin. Jeremy reached out to squeeze Jean’s knee, and Jean flinched. Jeremy removed his hand. 

“I’m sorry.” Jeremy whispers, “I thought you’d want comfort.” Jeremy shrugged.

Jean missed the first bit of Kevin’s speech to look at Jeremy.  Jeremy gave him a small smile and Jean felt like throwing up. His heart started pounding again. The heart beat felt too hard and fast. He was missing Kevin’s words and everyone’s clapping. His heartbeat drowned out the priest thanking Kevin. The moment Kevin returned to his seat, Jean stood up. His heart was too loud and he just needed it to stop, he clenched his hands at his side. 

The priest looked directly at Jean and Jean felt the weight of everyone’s grieving eyes on him. 

“Son, would you like to say a few words?”

“Je suis navré.e” Jean whispered, or thought he did as he removed himself from the church.  He heard some mummering behind him, but his heart just kept hammering, pushing every other noise away. 

Jean was only dimly aware of a hand pulling him away from the front doors, where the paparazzi still circled. Even if the master hadn’t attended, Jean knew he’d be watching the news coverage. He’d want to see how his Ravens fell.  The hand yanked him hard and practically threw him out a side door where the nuns must come to sneak a smoke. Cigarette butts littered around a small bench. Jean fell to his knees and tried to settle his breathing. The acrid scent of burning tobacco infiltrated his lungs as he took his heaving breaths. He barely recognized his own shaky voice. 

“Why’d you do it?”

Neil flicked his eyes to Jean before taking a long drag on his cigarette. It seemed Neil did not follow his goalies footsteps in eliminating the vice. 

“You’re going to have to be more specific than that, Yves.”

Jean knew that Neil understood where his mind was but wanted to hear him say it. Jean chewed on his lip trying to decide how honest he needed to be. He only broke the silence when Neil offered him his lit cigarette. Jean shook his head in disgust. 

“Those things will kill you.”

“They haven’t yet.”

Jean rolled his eyes and the two men sat in silence for a few beats. Neil was a cockroach. Nothing had killed him yet, and not for lack of trying. 

“Why did you antagonize him?” Neil turned to hom and opened his mouth. Jean knew he had to cut Neil off from whatever asinine thing he was about to utter. “Not today. Not the ma-“ Jean cleared his throat.  “Riko. Before.”

Jean and Neil watched Neil’s cigarette burn. Jean was used to the fox running his mouth. His silence was almost painful to endure.

“I don’t hate you, Jean.”

Jean looked at Neil, but he was looking outward, the other wall more interesting than Jean.  The change of conversation was confusing, but more so it was aggravating. 

“I hate you, Neil.” It was true but not the whole truth. Jean didn’t know if he was capable of loving someone without hating them a little too. Not since Elodie. He didn’t know it was destined to love everyone he hated too. 

Neil laughed.

 “No, you don’t. Or maybe you do , but not enough. You can’t lie to a liar.  All this.” Neil gestured between them. “The calls, the questions. It doesn’t change Baltimore. You know that.”

Jean wasn’t sure if he wanted to punch Neil or run from him. He looked down at his hands.

“You know that, and you keep looking at me like I’m supposed to forgive you. I don’t.”

Jean felt his chest go hollow. His hands reached out to his chest to try to find the wound.

“Jean. I don’t forgive you, but I don’t need to. Riko, all of them,” Neil gestured behind them where the funeral continued, the ash from his cigarette flicking onto the church ground.  “They’re all so fucked. Thea was a great player. But she was right there too.”

Jean shook his head. He remembered Thea’s smile, how she’d taken her under his wing. Her voice when she asked him about his “old tricks.” His fingers dug into his chest, still sure they could locate the hole. Neil’s hand was warm when he grabbed Jean’s wrist. His voice was gentle in direct opposition to his nails digging into Jean as he pulled his hand away.

“You, Jean, are not fucked. You just have a fucked up tattoo.” Neil let go of Jean and stood up. He eyed his half-spent cigarette for a minute before he tossed it to the ground and stubbed it with his foot. “I ‘antagonized’ Riko because that was the only choice. I don’t know another way to be,” Neil shrugged, the hints of his unhinged grin tugging at his lips, “and I was going to die anyway, so why not drag him to hell anyway.”

“You’re insane.”

“And yet he’s the one you come to for advice. What does that say about you, Johnny boy?” Andrew’s dull voice came from behind them. Neil rejoined Andrew’s side, pulled by a gravity Jean couldn’t see.  Wherever Andrew went, Kevin was sure to follow, and Jean could see the queen behind the short blonde. Jeremy brought up the rear with a sheepish smile that was not on the same page as his eyes. 

“Let's get out of here.”