Modern AU: Obi calls back home for the first time in years.
The first nice day in April finds Obi out on the fire escape, elbows braced against his knees to keep his hands from shaking.
His phone has one contact pulled up, his thumb hovering over the call button. He’s paralyzed; every time his gaze catches on the name, it’s like being punched in the gut. Not like when he was in the ring, prepped and tense, but like when he was just some undersized foster kid, someone who would be leaving soon, someone no one would remember if you stuffed them in a locker or shoved them head-first into a toilet. Something he can never be prepared for, no matter how many times it happens.
Home, it reads.