The ring is a small and unassuming thing, sitting innocently in his palm. He didn’t actually notice he was wearing it until he was on the plane, head drooping and eyes settling on the backs of his hands resting in his lap. Most of his mystery night is still nothing but a blur of lights and colors in his mind and out of everything he woke up to this morning, the ring surprises him more than anything else. Once he slid it onto the right finger, finding it fit perfectly, he was left with even more questions than before.

Neil reaches up and places it gently on the nightstand, half heartedly wondering where and why he got it. Returning his attention to unpacking, a knock on the door frame makes him jolt with a hiss, his dulled headache flaring to life for a second before gradually settling back down. 

“Glad you’re back in one piece. I see you didn’t get chewed up by a crocodile.” Dinah snarks, stepping into the room. Neil snorts as she moves to sit on the guest bed. “But I am your friend, and I have to be honest. You look horrible.”

“I might as well have been chewed up by a crocodile. I’d prefer it at this point.” He tosses a balled up shirt at the cardboard box he’s been using as a makeshift laundry basket. “My suffering would’ve been over by now if I had.”

“That bad, huh? What kind of plane ride did you have to get this messed up?” She smirks, swinging her socked feet back and forth so her heels hit the bed frame with a soft ‘thump thump.’

“You know, with the hangover I’m rocking, I think it was the worst thing I’ve ever experienced in my life.” The thumping stops as Dinah leans over to scan his face. Neil only continues to unpack, separating his clothes by placing the clean ones on the floor by his knee and the dirty ones thrown at the box.

“You? Hungover? Yeah sure, like I’d believe that.” She scoffs, pausing for a moment. “Wait, are you serious? Like actually? Neil I- don’t- drink- more- than- half- a- cup Seagrave actually drank enough to get himself hungover? We must be in the end times.”

Dinah squawks in indignation when an article of clothing flies into her face. Something harsh and rough scratches at her skin and she scrabbles to pull away whatever was thrown at her. She stills instantly, vision clearing to settle on the pile of bubblegum pink tulle sitting in her hands. Her eyes flicker from the tutu, to Neil’s face, to the tutu, then to his face once more, going so far as to hold it out and shake it at him like it’s a cheerleader’s pom pom.

“What is this? Neil, what is this? What on earth did you do yesterday?” She presses, complete bafflement lining her features. He barely spares a glance at it, having had his fair share of staring in bewilderment at it early this morning.

“Your guess is as good as mine. I can’t remember a thing and it hurts to try. My head feels like the inside walls of a rage room and I’m gonna need you to start talking a bit quieter.”

“Okay, we are so having a conversation about this later.” She drops the tutu to the floor, grimacing at the blue stain she catches at the edge of it. She is absolutely going to drill him about this more later. “Can I get you some water or something?”

Neil pauses in his work, deciding a break couldn’t hurt. Especially since his entire body is still aching. The after effects of his missing, wild night in Vegas gradually calmed down throughout the morning as he ate what he could stomach, drank some water, and of course threw up a few more times. However, the headache still lingers, his throat feels like it’s full of cotton, and there’s an ever present patch of sweat on the fabric over the heated skin of his back. Nudging the suitcase away, he leans his against the side of the bed and shuts his eyes.

“That would be nice, thanks.” He answers softly. Although he can’t see her, he hears her shuffle out of the room and come back after a short while. Something cold touches his cheek and his fingers swat at the chill instinctually, opening his eyes to see a tall glass of water right in front of his face.

While he takes it and carefully sips, never drinking more than what’s safe or else he risks another bout of nausea, Dinah watches him sharply. He catches her silently observing him in his periphery and puts the glass down on the carpet beside him. Only when nothing happens after a full minute does he finally give in.

“What now?” He asks, taking note of how she leans even closer in his direction.

“Speaking of yesterday-” Neil already doesn't like where this is going. “-It was your ‘sacred Saturday.’”

“It’s not sacred-”

“It was Kash’s birthday.”

Neil’s mouth clicks shut, turning his head to stare at the legs of the nightstand on his left. He lasts like this for barely a second before the warmth of his skin becomes a prickling swarm of bugs underneath it and he gets the urge to busy himself with something. Mindful of his head and sore limbs, he shifts forward to pull the suitcase back over to him, hastily returning to his process of sorting and unpacking.

“It was.” He replies lightly, tossing another shirt into the box-bin.

“Mhm, and you obviously weren’t here to celebrate it with him.” She follows the arch of his arm as a pair of pants go through the air this time.

“Right.” Dinah rocks onto her feet and catches the next item Neil throws, bunching it in a fist and standing between him and the bin with her hands on her hips. “What?”

“Will you stop that?”

“Unpacking? I was already doing that when you came in, I can do this and talk just fine.”

“No, avoiding-” She sighs and plops down onto the floor across from him, putting the shirt back into his suitcase. Neil’s mouth parts to complain but she cuts him off. “Neil. Kash came up to me on campus yesterday and asked about you.”

The muscles in his shoulders tighten, a spike of pain shooting up his neck from the strain they were already under. He keeps his eyes fixed on the half emptied belly of his bag, mentally tracing the lines of a pair of sandals tucked into a side pocket. Dinah continues, not accusing but earnest.

“He had no idea where you were. Not the slightest clue. He didn’t even know you left the state, and I didn’t say anything because I figured you had a reason why you didn’t tell him. That’s not something you forget. Not you, the king of planning and time management.” She tilts her head down, trying to catch his eye. “Not only that, but he tells me you two had planned to meet up for his birthday. He told me you two picked a place and you never mentioned anything about changing the plans.”

Neil sits there quietly for a bit. Flickers of this morning pass through his mind, the stream of text messages, the officially blocked contact. A part of him, the part that still cares, feels guilty over leaving Kash alone and worrying over where Neil was on his birthday. But a meaner, angrier part of him feels like he deserves this, he deserves to have at least a little bit of revenge after everything. What’s one or two days of worry over that kind of betrayal? Not much in the grand scheme of things, he thinks. At least he didn’t destroy the guy’s car, even if that was something that he considered before ultimately deciding against it.

“Don’t worry, I’m dealing with it.” Is his short answer, pulling out the clean clothes and setting them aside while he waits for her to give up. It’ll get annoying if she keeps catching them and putting them right back where he didn’t want them. She draws out a loud sigh.

“I won’t pry. You know I won’t.” When she finally gets his eyes to meet hers, all he can see is her concern. She always had a way of making him feel seen without feeling stupid. “I get that something’s clearly going on between you guys, and I get that you don’t want to talk about it. But like I said, I’m your friend. I want to know how to help you, because I’m not stupid, I can tell you’re bottling it up. I just don’t want you to get yourself hurt.”

Neil rubs his face, trying to massage the tension and stress out of the muscles there and only succeeding in making his skull take another hit from the headache.

“You can’t stick a band aid on this Dinah.” His voice is quiet and tired, his throat itching. He takes another sip of water as she huffs out a breath.

“Wasn’t planning on it. I said ‘help,’ not fix. I’m not that magical.” Neil chuckles at that, getting down one more small swallow to soothe his throat before putting the glass back down.

Inhaling a slow, steady breath, Neil looks up and faces her. She blinks, but maintains eye contact, waiting patiently for him to speak. At the very least, even if he can’t bring himself to talk about the alleyway or the cafe or the omega under the streetlights, he can talk about one thing. It’s something she’s bound to find out about, anyway.

“I… we broke up. Yesterday. Probably after he talked to you.” He doesn’t miss the sharp intake of breath from her but he keeps going. “Yeah, things happened. Obviously they did, why else would- but...It’s over. Thanks for, uh, not telling him about the Vegas trip. I don’t think I can really face him for a while.”

The expression on her face twists from her serious concentration, to absolute shock. Her mouth is agape for a second before she shuts it, pressing a fist to her lips. She looks like she’s puzzling out some impossible equation and it unwinds some of the tangled knots inside his chest.

“Well… that certainly wasn’t the thing I was expecting you to say.” Dinah scans his face and lets her hand fall from her face, letting it rest on Neil’s shoulder instead. The weight is warm and light and the soft care in her eyes translates into the light squeeze she gives his shoulder. “Nothing’s changed. You can still tell me the details whenever you feel ready. And I’m still here for you. We’re best beta buddies, remember?”

The smile she gives him is infectious, and despite the faint stinging sensation in the corners of his eyes, his lips tug up into something small but genuine.

“Thanks Dinah. And thanks for… listening. For being here.”

“Always. And if he ever bothers you again, I’ll rip his-”

“Yeah, yup. Okay, thank you Dinah. I think we’re done now.”

“What? Why can’t I make threats to his well being?” She smirks, and Neil shakes his head. The smile is now a grin and there’s nothing he can do to stop it.

“Because I don’t want to hear them. I’m nauseous enough as it is, I don’t need you to make it worse.” He throws a pair of socks that narrowly misses her head and she laughs.

“Okay okay, I’m done. I’ll let you finish unpacking, maybe make some soup if you’re up to eating anything.” Dinah uses Neil’s shoulder as a crutch to push herself up onto her feet. As she goes she pauses, half bent in the air to peer at something behind him. “No way.”

Alarm strikes him, grin falling, as he twists his head to see what’s happening. A building dread seizes him when her eyes follow his movements, lingering on his neck. He spits out questions, trying to figure out what it is she’s gawking at, then she hooks a finger on the back of his shirt collar and tugs. He bats at her hand only for her to shove it away and pull out her phone. A camera shutter goes off and she kneels beside him looking like she’s seen something incredible.

“I need to hang out with you when you’re drunk. There’s no way you did this sober.” She hands him her phone and he feels the effects of his hangover hit him full force in one go, almost as bad as it was when he first woke up. On the screen is a picture of his neck, his shirt collar held out of the way, revealing a little crocodile tattooed on the skin over his spine.

Dinah’s wicked cackles ripple through the air, fueling the pain that comes back to bash against his skull with a vengeance. Neil simply drops his face into his hands and groans as loud and distressed as his shredded throat will allow him too. Yeah, no. He’s never drinking again.