— quarante-deux ; forty two —

IT WAS A short ride to the airport, no more than twenty minutes, yet Henri still managed to fall asleep against the window. Jack prodded him awake with a rude jab to the arm and Henri lifted his head, blinking sleepily out of the window with the expectation of planes jetting off and finding instead a neighbourhood street lined with houses. It took his tired brain a few more seconds to realise he vaguely recognised the house they were parked outside and he turned to look at Jack with an accusatory gaze.

"This isn't the airport," Henri said.

"No," Jack agreed. "Astute observation. Perhaps your mental faculties are coming back to you?"

Henri glared at him. "You lied to me."

"Oh, don't take it so personally. I lie to everyone. The psychiatrists say I'm a compulsive liar and who am I to argue with a professional," Jack said, and got out of the car. He bent down to regard him through the open door when Henri made no move to follow him. "Aren't you coming?"

"No. I made it clear that I'm going back to West Virginia and if you won't help me, I'll call a taxi to take me to the airport myself."

Jack propped himself against the door. "Be my guest."

Henri had every intention of calling him out on that bluff but as he rooted around in his pockets, he couldn't find his phone. He checked between the seats and was wondering whether he'd managed to leave it behind at the hospital when Jack cleared his throat.

"Looking for this?"

Henri looked up to see his phone dangling from Jack's fingertips. He moved as if to grab it but Jack had already danced backwards out of the way, slipping the phone in his pocket with a sly grin. "Give that back," Henri snapped.

"Ah-ah," Jack said mockingly. "If only it was that easy. You want it, you'll have to come get it."

He'd flicked the door shut and began strolling up to Abby's house before Henri could make a grab for it. Henri stared after him and spent a few moment struggling to tamp down his rising temper at how easily he'd been played, only for the memory of Jack's smug smile to ruin all attempts at calming down. He hadn't spent the past two weeks cooped up in a hospital for this snarky asshole who wasn't even on his team to take the piss out of his already miserable existence.

He yanked his seatbelt off with a curse in colourful French and slammed the car door behind him, stalking up the pathway to the door. He'd been practically unconscious the last time Jean and Soren had dragged him up here but irritation melted away all traces of exhaustion as he shoved open the unlocked front door. He followed the murmur of voices into a living room with more people than he'd expected, Abby and Coach Wymack among them. Jack was nowhere to be seen.

"Where the hell is he?" Henri demanded.

"This must be Jean's famous little brother, Henri Moreau," said a dry voice, belonging to a tall man with his black hair gelled into spikes. He recognised him as Matt Boyd, starting backliner for the Foxes. "Nice to see you share the same delightful manners as him."

Henri ignored him in favour of Abby. "Where's Jack?"

"Jack? I'd assume those were his footsteps running upstairs just then," Abby said, bemused. "Why?"

Henri didn't stick around to give an explanation but turned on his heel and went upstairs. He found Jack in the second room he tried, sprawled back on the bed and scrolling through Henri's phone with relish. "Oh, hi," Jack said, not even glancing away from the screen to spare him a look. "You should really consider a passcode for personal devices like this."

Henri snatched the phone out of his hands and Jack didn't resist this time, looking entirely amused at his fury. "Fuck you," Henri said, in heated French. "Touch my stuff again and I'll slit your throat."

"Hey, hey, if you're going to insult me, say it in English so I can at least understand it," Jack said plaintively. "So boring, otherwise."

"I said, I'll kill you if you don't leave me alone."

"What an uncreative death threat. Don't you understand, frenchie? I had to take your phone to stop you doing something irresponsible like calling a taxi to take you to the airport. That's just reckless to your health. Now you're in South Carolina, you're all our responsibility until you're better and we can't be having you put a bad name on the Foxes." Jack laughed when Henri had nothing to say in response to his rambling beyond a glare. "Hey, you've exchanged an awful lot of messages with that Soren so-and-so. More so than anyone else on your old team. Captain, right? Is he your boyfriend? Oh," Jack said, sitting up at whatever he saw on Henri's face. "Ding ding. I didn't think I'd hit the nail on the head with that one! That's so interesting. I thought the Ravens were too dead inside for sex."

"Old team," Henri said, ignoring every other irrelevant thing Jack had mentioned. "Why did you say they were my old team?"

"Didn't you know?"

Before Jack got a chance to elaborate, someone rapped lightly on the open door. They both looked up to see Abby poking her head around the doorway with a cautiously wary expression. "Is everything okay here?" she asked. "I just wanted to check."

"Everything is fantastic, Abby," Jack said cheerfully. "No spilled blood here. Didn't you hear? Henri's over the moon about his stay with us. He's practically pissing himself with excitement."

Abby shot a wary look in Henri's direction to which he replied to with, "I want to go back."

"Henri, you can't fly so soon. You just got out of hospital," she said, taking him by the elbow and leading to the bed. He wanted to protest but his body had sank down on the edge of the mattress before he could stop himself. "Please, just rest here for a week, at least. We've already spoken to your coach about it. The whole thing is sorted."

Henri stared at her. "You have?"

"David got off the phone with him a few days ago," she said. "Sorted out a temporary accommodation with us, seeing as we're the closest team, to aid your recovery as best as possible. Didn't Jack tell you?"

"No," Henri said, narrowing his eyes at him. "He didn't."

Jack tipped his head with a lazy smile. "Oops, my bad. Must have slipped my mind."

Henri chewed his lip as he considered the proposition. On one hand, any supposed agreement Coach Wymack might have struck up with the master would be to maintain appearances only. He would expect Henri to abide by the laws of the Moriyama hierarchy which placed him at the bottom. On the other hand, Henri was drained, too drained to deal with the questions and accusations and violence that would be waiting for him when he returned. The Foxes were offering a refugee, a temporary escape to recuperate and gather his thoughts. Extending his time away from the Ravens court and the master's careful eye would incur more punishment but Henri was too exhausted to care right now. The master was already going to beat him within an inch of his life. He had nothing left to lose.

"Is this okay?" Abby asked, at Henri's silence.

Henri dialled out a number more familiar to him now than his own and Soren answered on the second ring. "Hello?"

"What has the master said to you about my absence?" Henri said in lieu of greeting, in french. He was aware of Jack watching him with unconcealed interest and didn't want him poking around in his business more than he already had. "Anything recently?"

"That you'll be staying in South Carolina with the Foxes for an indefinite time until you're well enough to return," Soren said, and Henri heard a voice in the background that he recognised as Matthias's but was indistinct for him to make out any words. Soren switched to french without missing a beat. "The Ravens had plenty of questions, as I'm sure you can imagine, but he had nothing more to say on the matter. He snapped at Lucas to focus on his own inadequacies before worrying about you when he pushed it."

"Hey!" Matthias was louder now and sounded indignant. "Is that Henri? What's he saying?"

"He has nothing to say to you," Soren said tersely, and continued the rest of the phone call in french, ignoring any other protests from the other end. "Are you still in hospital?"

"They discharged me today. I wanted to catch the first flight out to Charleston, but I made the mistake of trusting Jack." Henri didn't know whether it was his sour tone or his name that even the change in language couldn't disguise, but Jack touched a hand to his chest with mocking delight as if to say who, me? Henri flipped him off and Abby sighed. "He said he'd drive me to the airport but took me to Abby's house, instead."

"Jack?"

"One of the new freshmen the Foxes recruited this year to meet the ERC's criteria. They sent him to collect me from the hospital," Henri said. "Apparently, Coach Wymack and the master decided I should stay here until I'm fully recovered. Which I'm guessing means Wymack threatened him into letting me stay for a bit with a reminder of how he was already under scrutiny for mistreating his players last year."

"The master doesn't seem like the type to be backed into a corner," Soren said.

"No," Henri agreed, "which is why I'm sure he'll be waiting to take that frustration out on me when I eventually come back."

Soren took a moment to process that grim statement. "Do you know when you'll be back?"

"Not for another week. That's the minimum stay they've imposed on me. I could sneak out — "

"Don't. Don't be reckless about your health," Soren said, but his next words took away any of the concern that there might have been. "You're no use on my court if you're only dragging the line down. The master would be more angry at you for playing badly than for coming back later. We don't have any more games now until Spring Championships start in January. Use that time to get better."

"Weren't you the one who told me to always put Exy first and foremost when playing for the Ravens?" Henri taunted, although he couldn't deny he was relieved. Having his cautious optimism that it might actually be okay for him to get away from the Ravens for a bit longer confirmed by Soren took away some of the tension he didn't realise he'd been carrying since first being admitted to hospital. "Going against your own ethos, Soren."

"That is my ethos, not yours," Soren said, unimpressed. "You're too careless for that to be sustainable. Your job is to shut up, rest and try not to cause too much trouble for the Foxes."

Henri looked at Jack. "Something tells me I won't be the biggest cause of trouble around here."

"Doubtful."

"I have to go now," Henri said, aware Abby was still waiting on him for an answer. "If Matthias asks after me, tell him to mind his own business and tell Jude he can go fuck himself. Not that I'd expect you to go out of your way to talk to him. I'll let you know if anything changes."

"Okay. Henri," Soren said, before he could hang up. There was a pause as if Soren was weighing up his words and Henri was willing to wait him out if only to see what could make him so uncertain. "Just...look after yourself, okay? It isn't the same here without you."

He hung up before Henri could even process what he'd said. He stared down at his phone long after the dial tone beeped in his phone and marvelled at possibly the first unquestionably nice thing Soren had said to him. On it's heels was an uncomfortable heat settling in his chest, that ache of being apart for so long solidifying into something too painful to ignore. Phone calls had been manageable up until now but Henri wasn't ready for how acutely he missed Soren. Dangerous, he reminded himself, but that did nothing to ease the weight of his emotions.

"Bad call?" Jack prompted, when Henri said nothing.

"No, it was fine." Henri swallowed around the lump in his throat and looked at Abby. "I'll stay for a week or however long I need. Thank you," he added, which had been a long time coming. "For letting me stay and for looking after me on the day of the banquet."

Abby smiled. "You don't need to thank me. I'm just doing my job."

"I'm not a Fox."

"No, but you've been through everything Kevin has and you're Jean's brother," Abby said, and touched his hair with affection. "That's more than a good enough reason for us to look after you like you're one of our own."

The kindness in Abby's voice was enough to make the lump rise in his throat again and Henri had to look away. It had been so long since he'd received such motherly warmth and the heaviness in his chest was all grief now. His mother had never been the openly affectionate type but she was the only other woman in his life to have cared for him so fiercely. His mother didn't have to show her affection — she'd died for him. She deserved better than Henri ever questioning her even in death.

"We'll leave you alone," Abby said gently, at whatever she saw on Henri's face. She caught Jack by the elbow to steer him out of the room and shook her head sternly when he opened his mouth to speak. "Consider this your room during your time with us."

Henri glanced down at clothes, the only ones he had with him. "I don't have any of my stuff."

"You look about the same size as Jack. I'm sure he won't mind lending you some clothes," Abby said, with a warning look towards Jack. "Isn't that right?"

"How bold of you to put words in my mouth. Earn my clothes, Henri," Jack said, with too much solemnity for it to be genuine. He tipped forward as far as he could with Abby's hold on him and grinned at him, all teeth. "What will you do for them?"

"Okay, that's enough from you." Abby shooed Jack out of the room, watched to make sure he actually disappeared from sight, and turned back to Henri with a sigh. "I'm sorry about him. He's...well, he can be difficult. He hasn't had any easy ride to make it this far."

"Have any of us?" Henri said wryly.

Abby accepted that with a sad smile. "Let us know if you need anything else. I'll be downstairs."

Henri let himself fall back against the bed the moment the door clicked shut behind her and almost fell asleep right there. The excitement of his arrival had managed to mask just how tired he was but the remnants of adrenaline were fizzing out now and he could barely keep his eyes open. He knew he should be worried about this, about the awkward position he'd put himself in by agreeing to stay with the Foxes, but it was all he could do to kick off his shoes before he crawled further up the bed and passed out. When he woke up again he forgot for a moment where he was. It was only when he sat up, disorientated and groggy with sleep, that the fragments slipped into place.

Abby's house. South Carolina. Indefinite stay with the Foxes.

Henri dragged a hand through his tangled hair and yawned. Someone had tugged the curtains closed but he pulled them back slightly to see the sun resting on the horizon, although his bleary eyes couldn't figure out whether it was setting or rising. The clock on the wall told him it was 5:36PM. He'd been asleep for nearly six hours. He hadn't eaten since he'd left the hospital this morning and that breakfast had been unsatisfyingly stale cereal. Henri couldn't scrounge up much of an appetite but he knew he had to eat something. He'd promised Soren he'd get better as quickly as possible. But first, he was in desperate need of a shower. He needed to wash the sickly antiseptic feel of the hospital off.

Someone had left a neatly folded set of clothes at the foot of the bed along with a towel and toothbrush. Henri heard voices floating up from the kitchen when he left the bedroom but he didn't slow to investigate as he crossed the landing to the bathroom. He showered as quickly as he could considering the weakened state of his body, turning the water up to nearly scalding and scrubbing hard at his skin. He stood under the water for longer than he needed and stared at the water streaming off his fingertips. If he looked hard enough he could have sworn he saw a tinge of red. When he was done he felt warm and clean for the first time in days and padded downstairs barefoot. He paused in the doorway to the kitchen to find Abby cooking something at the hob.

"Oh, Henri." She offered him a smile when she saw him and motioned for him to take a seat. "Just in time. I'm nearly finished with dinner — nothing fancy, just some pasta — and then I'm heading down to the Foxhole court."

"What for?"

"Evening practice," she said. "Things have been a little, ah, rough around here recently. I need to be nearby in case someone needs patching up."

Henri wondered whether she was joking and saw from her resigned expression she wasn't. He sat on the edge of a seat, running fingers through his still wet hair, and asked, "Can I come?"

Abby looked surprised. "To practice?"

"I haven't played in two weeks. I can't go back to the Ravens like this," Henri said. "They'll play me off the court if I bring this level of incompetence to their court."

"You were just discharged today, Henri. I don't know if you should be — "

"I'll be fine. I just slept the entire day off and I feel better than I have in weeks. Please let me come," he said, with a hint of desperation. He didn't know when Exy had become some a crucial part of his life but he didn't know to settle that uneasy sense of adrift lingering in his chest without a racquet in his hands. "Please."

Abby slowly stirred the pot on the stove before sighing. "Okay. Okay, sure, you can tag along," she said, and raised a hand when Henri began speaking. "But I'm not making any promises. I'll leave it up to David as to whether you're okay to get on court."

Henri just nodded. As far as he was concerned, once he was allowed near that stadium, there was little anyone would be able to do to to keep him off the court. He barely tasted the pasta Abby set in front of him but she wouldn't let him leave the table until he finished the whole bowl and watched carefully to ensure he drank all the water she poured out for him. He wanted to complain at the micromanagement but Henri was lucky Abby was even letting him stay in her house. So he shut up and ate the pasta and bided his time until he was allowed to play again.