Chapter Text
Kevin Day couldn’t feel his hand.
It was an interesting thing, to be so in pain that your brain has found a way to shut it all off. Interesting because he thought when these kinds of things happened, you screamed in pain, and lost yourself to it. Maybe even, if the victim was lucky, they would black out.
Not Kevin Day.
Kevin wouldn’t describe his life as lucky. He would describe it as a series of events strung together haphazardly, before exploding, bringing him to this particular moment. He was standing in front of room 310, with his hood up, blood soaking through his bandages. He had some on his face too, as Riko had got the best of him, hitting him upside the face with his helmet before he had taken to stomping on his hand.
His hand.
His Exy hand.
Kevin stared at the door number and cradled his hand to his chest, lifting his other one to knock. It was the Winter Banquet for Exy, which meant the occupant of this room, would indeed be there. He counted up until forty seven before it opened, a familiar, angry and rather large man looking at him.
David Wymack was tall and well built, strong shouldered, with tribal tattoos flowing over his arms. His head was shaved and his skin was light brown, nowhere near resembling Kevin’s paler skin that he inherited from his mother.
His mother, who took him away. His mother who wrote a letter to Tetsuji informing him that David Wymack was Kevin’s birth father. Not that David knew.
Not that Kevin would tell him, either. He could only handle one ridiculous problem at a time.
“For fuck’s sake,” David breathed out, taking Kevin in. “Kevin Day?”
“Please,” for what seemed like the millionth time that night, Kevin Day was begging. He was tired of it, this wasn’t who he was, but in the face of torture and humiliation he was uncertain as to what was left of him anymore. Fighting had left his body. He needed safety, protection, and was that not what fathers were for? “Help me.”
“Jesus,” David grabbed Kevin by his hood and hauled him in. He closed the door and locked it, walking over to the window and closing the blinds. Kevin stood where he had been pulled in, looking at David, unable to look down at his hand. He knew it was against his chest, and his good hand was cradling his arm, but he couldn’t bear to look down at it. To see the damage that would haunt him for the rest of his life.
“Thank you.” Kevin mumbled.
“I haven’t done anything.” David told him.
Kevin’s voice sounded apathetic, even to his own ears. “You could have turned me away.”
David turned around and stared at him, looking tired, and angry. David was not a man who was known for smiles and a soft personality; his temper was his trademark, as was never turning away a child who needed him. “What the fuck happened to you?” he asked, walking over. Kevin didn’t flinch. He felt like he should have after what he had just endured, but there was nothing left in him. Whatever happened now, he couldn’t be bothered.
“Riko,”
“Fuck,”
“All that talk,” Kevin explained, swallowing slowly. “All that talk about me and him, and…” he closed his eyes, the feeling in his body slowly coming back to him. His muscles were terribly sore. “He didn’t want me to play anymore.”
“So he broke your fucking hand?” David growled, anger evident in his tone.
Kevin couldn’t open his eyes. “I’d rather be dead,” he whispered.
If it was anyone else, a comment like that would have shaken them. If it was anyone else, silence would have engulfed him. David Wymack was not that kind of person. He was ruthless and kind all at once, and didn’t allow anyone to stay down. Kevin knew as much, he had been following David’s career for a long time. It was easy to trust him, easy to remember why he had chosen David Wymack to run away to.
“Tough luck,” he grunted. “You’re not dying, you’re just a little—”
“I’m broken.”
“You can always fix something broken, kid,” David told him, kindness somewhere beneath the rage he was trying to hide. “Open your eyes. Sit on the bed. You bandaged these terribly.”
Kevin opened his eyes as he was told and walked towards the bed, hearing David type out a message on his phone and thrust it onto the bed. He knelt before Kevin, frowning at the way Kevin was holding his hand to his chest. When David moved forward to grasp it, Kevin finally did flinch away from the potential contact, fear creeping up him.
“Kevin, I can’t help you if you don’t let me.” He snapped.
“I’m sorry,” the words fell out of him immediately from the tone David used. His body began to shake, the anxiety of the trauma he had just faced, the pleading and the begging and the ‘please, Riko, please stop, please’ came screaming back at him. “I’ll be good, I’m sorry please—”
“Kevin,” David grabbed Kevin’s face, his big hands warm. Kevin had to remind himself safe, he’s safe, “Relax, I’m not going to hurt you.”
Focusing very hard, Kevin got his head to a safer place, remembering that this was not Riko, this was David Wymack. He was not here to be taken apart, he was here to be put back together. There was a knock at the door and Kevin flinched again, fear making his eyes go wide but David shook his head.
“It’s a friend, a medic,” he promised.
Kevin nodded, watching as David went to go open the door. He immediately missed the warmth that David’s hands had brought him.
A woman was on the other side of it, someone Kevin did not know. She was pretty enough, and from the way she touched David’s hand, and the way he leaned in to speak to her, Kevin knew that this girl was more than a medic to David. He could not stop staring. He wondered if he was supposed to feel something over it—territorial, or anger, but he couldn’t stop to think about it for too long. More importantly was feeling the new found anxiety in his body, the way his shoulders shook. The ache in his hand was coming back slowly, as the shock was beginning to wear off. Besides, David could have whoever he wanted in his life, he didn’t even know Kevin was his son. Kevin had no right to him.
Except now more than ever, he wanted to.
The door shut and the woman came over swiftly, her voice a million times lighter than David’s, who stood right behind her.
“Kevin,” she said softly. “My name is Abby Winfield, I’m going to bandage you up.”
“Are you with the Foxes?”
“Yes,”
Kevin nodded and finally undid his arm from his chest, allowing Abby to touch it. Her fingers were like ghosts, he could barely feel them, but he didn’t have it in him to look at his hand just yet. So he kept his gaze fixed on David’s arm, trying to understand the tattoos that went up and down his darker skin. He hissed lightly in pain when Abby began to remove Kevin’s messy job of patching himself up.
“Kevin,” David grunted. “You should drink some water, you have to be dehydrated from all the crying.”
Kevin, truly astounded, mumbled. “I’ve been crying?”
Something broke over David’s face, but Kevin couldn’t name what the expression was. It was covered up too quickly by the same rage he had seen prior to this moment. “Do you want some water?” he asked again, carefully controlling his tone.
Kevin shrugged. “I don’t care.”
“Well I—”
“David,” Abby interrupted. “We have to get him to a hospital, I’m not sure how much—”
“No,” Kevin yanked his hand up harshly, exclaiming in pain from the motion. He was up suddenly, fear crackling up his spine like electricity. “No, they’ll find me. They’ll know I went and I can’t go back. Please, no,” he backed up against the wall, trapped in his body, in his mind, in his hotel room, in this world—
“Kevin, okay, relax,” David spoke over him quickly, his hands out in front of him like he was approaching an animal. “We’re not going to force you to do anything, okay?”
Abby didn’t look like she agreed. “Kevin, your injuries are severe—”
“I can’t go back,” he yelped, his voice cracking. “I’ll die instead.” He threatened—it was an empty threat though. He meant nothing to these people, and in the end of it, Kevin taking his own life would just be a release in the face of his pain. What was he supposed to do, if he wasn’t going to play Exy again?
David was severe with his words, “Listen to me Kevin. Abby is going to bandage you up, here, and we’re going to put you on a bus and send you back to where the Foxes are okay? You’re mine now, you’re going to come over to my team.”
Kevin stared at him, shaking his head slowly. “But I…can’t play.”
“You can be assistant coach, or learn to play with your other hand. I don’t give a fuck what you do, but you’re not killing yourself. Do you understand me?”
Kevin swallowed. “No hospitals.” He whispered.
“No hospitals.” David agreed. He motioned for Kevin to come over. “Come on kid, you have blood all over you. Please, let us help.”
Kevin nodded, sitting down on the bed. He swallowed the pain killers Abby gave to him, drank the water David ordered him to drink, and continued to look at his father’s tattoos, the sounds of his own begging ringing in his ears.