Built For Almost

27. Where Is He?

"All right," he said finally, firm. "Show's over. Get back to your drills. Keep the lane clear. I want eyes on your own goddamn progress, not on his pain."

There was no room for argument.

The team dispersed, not coldly - just cautiously, as if trying not to break anything fragile left in the air.

Zay waited until the footsteps faded before speaking again.

"You okay to stand?" he asked softly.

Neil didn't answer at first. His eyes were still a little glazed, but his breath had evened out. When he finally nodded, it was small, barely there.

Zay adjusted his hold, sliding an arm beneath Neil's shoulder as he rose. Neil leaned heavier on him than Zay expected - but he didn't mind. In fact, the contact felt... grounding. Like he needed to be the one keeping Neil upright.

They moved slowly, step by step off the track. Coach Langley didn't follow, but his voice came behind them.

"Zay."

They both stopped.

"Keep him steady. I'll meet you at the nurse's wing."

Zay nodded.

They walked in silence, the hallway quieter than usual. Fluorescent lights hummed above, and the cool indoor air was a shock after the heavy heat outside.

Neil's fingers curled just slightly in Zay's shirt, like he was afraid of slipping - of Zay letting go.

Zay didn't.

When they reached the empty nurse's room, the lights were dimmed. Zay helped Neil onto the padded bench, his touch careful. Neil exhaled a shaky breath and leaned back against the wall, eyes closed.

"You didn't have to come running," Neil said hoarsely.

Zay crouched in front of him, elbows resting on his knees. "You were asking for me. What was I supposed to do, not come running?"

Neil didn't look at him.

There was a long pause. Then-

"I hate this," Neil muttered. "Feeling like this."

"I know," Zay replied. And he meant it.

Neil looked down at him, finally - and Zay swore something flickered there. A thread of vulnerability too raw for words.

"I tried so hard not to need anyone," Neil said quietly. "Especially here. Especially you."

That last part hurt, in a way that surprised Zay - but not enough to pull away.

Instead, he reached up, brushing a thumb against the edge of Neil's jaw. "Well, tough luck, Alister. I'm not going anywhere."

Neil didn't respond. Not with words, anyway.

Instead, his hand moved - hesitantly, as if guided by instinct rather than certainty - to rest gently over Zay's. Not gripping. Just touching. Letting it be there.

Zay stayed crouched, his eyes never leaving Neil's.

Neil's lips parted slightly, but he didn't speak. His gaze dropped to Zay's mouth for a heartbeat too long, then flicked away.

And in that moment - suspended between exhaustion, emotion, and everything unspoken - they were still. No labels. No rules. Just them.

But the quiet said enough.