Built For Almost

The morning slipped into the room gently, sunlight pooling in the corners like gold spilled across the floor. A breeze stirred the curtains, and the air smelled faintly of detergent and old wood-college dorm signatures.

Zay stirred first.

He blinked slowly, brain still foggy with sleep, and turned his head just slightly-enough to see Neil curled on his side beside him, back facing Zay. The blanket had slipped halfway off his shoulder. There was a bandage peeking out from under the sleeve of his shirt, and the gentle rise and fall of his breath was the only sound in the room.

It felt fragile. Like a scene he wasn't supposed to be watching, but couldn't look away from.

Zay let his eyes fall shut again. He didn't move. Didn't even shift the mattress. Because for all the walls Neil had built, for all the fight and fear and sharp edges he'd worn like armor-he was asleep now. And vulnerable. And still here.

A soft thump from the hallway broke the moment. Then muffled voices. Someone laughing. Morning had officially started.

Neil made a sound, halfway between a sigh and a hum, and turned onto his back without waking.

Zay sat up slowly, stretching the sleep from his shoulders, careful not to disturb anything. He crossed the room in socked feet, pulled the curtain open just a little more. Sunlight hit the bed in soft gold. Neil's lashes twitched.

Zay almost smiled. Almost.

He picked up his phone, checked the time. 7:42 a.m. The morning run had already started without him. Coach Langley had told them both to rest. Light recovery. "Don't even think about touching the track," he'd said.

But before Zay could open his mouth to even consider waking Neil-his phone buzzed.

Langley
Come see me when you're up. Office.

Zay sighed quietly. Of course.

...

Coach Langley's Office - 8:15 a.m.

The office was never what people expected. Clean, minimalist. A few plaques on the wall, a photo of an old team in a frame behind the desk, a small plant that looked suspiciously alive. Sure, sometimes this place looked like a total mess. But rarely.
Zay sat across from him, hands resting on his thighs.

Coach Langley leaned back in his chair, studying him in a way that made Zay feel ten years younger.

"I watched you yesterday." Coach Langley said simply.

Zay nodded. "Yeah."

"You were calm. Focused. Too focused."

Zay didn't answer.

Langley's gaze didn't waver. "I've seen that before. When someone's holding the entire team in place-because someone else can't."

Zay shifted slightly.

"I know what Neil's been through." The coach said. "Not everything. But enough. And I know what you've been doing to keep him from breaking."

Zay frowned. "I'm not babysitting him, if that's what you're getting at."

"No," Langley said. "You're not. But you're carrying something that isn't yours. And it's going to get heavy."

Zay stayed silent for a beat. "He needs someone."

"I agree," the coach said, softer now. "But that doesn't mean it has to be you. Not all of it. You're not a solution, Zay. You're a person."

Zay looked down at the floor.

Langley folded his hands. "You care about him."

It wasn't a question.

Zay didn't answer. Not in words. Just a slow nod, so faint it almost didn't count.

Langley sighed. "I'm not going to tell you to stop. But I am going to ask you this-what happens if he falls, and you're standing under him?"

Zay looked up sharply.

Langley met his eyes. "Will you get crushed? Or will you break his fall and then forget to get back up yourself?"

The silence was long.

Then Langley stood, rounding the desk. He clapped a hand on Zay's shoulder. "You're not alone in this. Neither is he. Just remember that."

Zay swallowed hard. "I know."

Langley gave a single nod. "Alright. Go wake him up. If he's not already gone sneaking off again."

Zay smirked. "I tied his shoes together."

Langley chuckled. "That's the spirit."

...

Dorm Room 213 - 8:45 a.m.

Neil was sitting on the floor when Zay came back in-headphones in, stretching like he didn't just go through a personal storm the night before. His bandaged arm caught the light.

"You didn't leave." Zay said, closing the door behind him.

Neil looked up, a faint surprise in his expression. "I figured I'd give it another day before getting yelled at again."

Zay kicked off his shoes and flopped on the bed. "Smart."

Neil nodded, pulling his legs under him. "How bad was it? Coach?"

Zay tilted his head. "Not bad. Just... honest."

Neil winced. "Worse."

Zay smiled. "He knows. All of it. Even about the track. And he's not kicking you out."

Neil looked away, chewing on the inside of his cheek.

"Hey," Zay said. "He's not the only one who sees the difference. The team does too."

Neil gave a half-shrug. "Let them talk."

"They're not talking," Zay said. "They're watching. Waiting. I think they want you back. For real."

Neil was quiet for a long time.

Then- "I don't know if I can come back the same."

Zay leaned forward, elbows on his knees. "Then come back different. Doesn't mean it's worse."

Neil finally looked at him. "Why are you still here?"

Zay's answer came easily.

"Because whatever this is-" he gestured between them, "-feels like the only real thing in all this noise."

Neil blinked.

Zay shrugged, eyes soft. "And maybe I just like watching you sleep."

Neil rolled his eyes, but his lips twitched-just barely.