Page 17 of Sidhe
Thedaywastoolong and everyone’s looks too lingering. Nathan snuck outside to the nearest vehicle as soon as he had the chance. It soothed him, just sitting there in the driver’s seat with Metallica blaring over the speakers, though maybe that was because he had refilled his flask for a third time. He was surprised Walter hadn’t appeared the moment he left the Gatehouse threshold.
“Walt…?” Nathan called tentatively.
Walter had grown so strong before Nathan was taken, almost able to appear in Jim’s presence again, and able to physically touch Nathan in a way the Spirit Guide had never been capable of in years prior. But now there wasn’t even the slightest sound or flicker of Walter’s image. There was nothing nearby to keep Walter away, even at his weakest, and yet…Nathan, this new twisted and darker version of Nathan, seemed to be enough on its own.
He took another pull on his flask.
If he had been paying a little more attention, he might have noticed a certain succubus come out of the Gatehouse, walk up to the car, and open the passenger side door. Since he wasn’t paying attention, he merely stared at Shiarra when she was suddenly sitting beside him.
“Well this is healthy.” She eyed him with that judgmental air. Granted, Miss High Society was grunged up a bit, even wearing jeans and a simple teal sweater that hugged all the right places. Young as she looked, Nathan could always see the age in her eyes.
“Just got back from the Veil. Figured I should celebrate.” Nathan shrugged, tipping the flask back once more.
She snatched it from him just as a few more drops were about to pleasantly burn his tongue. But although he turned a ready glare on her, Shiarra didn’t tuck the alcohol away. Shetipped a good amount down her own throat and licked her lips appreciatively before handing the flask back.
“At least you snatched the good stuff,” she said. “Nice to actually hear you answer a question too. Almost thought Old Scratch had taken your tongue before sending you back.”
Nathan certainly wouldn’t put that past Malak. “Always appreciate your sarcasm, Shi. Now what do you want? And if you say some shit about wanting to talk,” he took the drink she had denied him earlier, “I’m not in the mood.”
“If you hadn’t noticed,everyone’sbeen trying to get you to talk, Nathan, but I’m not here to try and weasel out of you what horrors befell you in the Veil. As much as I would like to stay a bit longer at these lovely accommodations, I think perhaps you’re a bit overwhelmed and suffocated right now, and I do have things to get back to.”
“Flashy billionaires to seduce?” Nathan snarked.
Shiarra didn’t even bat an eyelash at his whiskey-induced rudeness. “Actually, I’ve been a bit more into the working class man lately. They’re so much more creative.” She valiantly reached over to the radio and flicked it off, leaving the car to a strange silence that Nathan didn’t like at all, something that even the engine’s purr couldn’t dull. “Nathan, you proved me wrong, just like I knew you could. Maybe it was because my nephew decided to give up everything in order to bring you back…but still, here you are, breathing and alive and drowning your sorrows in drink and loud music like a good ol’ boy.”
“And you have a problem with that?” Nathan snapped. He looked over at Shiarra and her blue eyes resembled Sasha’s so much that he almost couldn’t stand it. “I’m trying. I just want a little oblivion before I have to face this shit again, you understand? If it’s not pity it’s worry, or even god damn fear on their faces. I have enough trouble dealing with bad memories.”
“You’re right, of course,” Shiarra said in too calm a voice, with too steady a stare, “you shouldn’t have to deal with picking up their pieces when you have plenty of your own. But sadly, we don’t get those kinds of luxuries. I had thought from what I learned of you over the months that you were one of the few who could always beat the odds and come out ahead, no matter how trying or terrible the disaster. It’s only your second day, Nathan, and already you’re playing the part of the failure. Give yourself more credit. And don’t disappoint me.”
For a moment Nathan truly hated Shiarra for sounding so eerily and perfectly like a parent. Then he sank into himself and took another swift drink, scrunched down in the driver’s seat with his head resting back on the headrest. “You’re already set up for disappointment, Shi. You have faith in me.”
“For good reason, Nathan,” she countered. “I don’t suppose you’d like to offer that flask to an old woman about to hit the road. I really should be going.” She looked at him patiently.
He considered her offer but oblivion was too sweet a prospect right now.
“Well then. For your own sake, Nathan, if not for mine, head inside soon. They miss you.”
After Shiarra left, her blue Bentley kicking up dust along the lone road that led from the Gatehouse, Nathan sat for a long time just holding the flask, not drinking, and sitting there in the silence of the car, wondering why Walter wouldn’t come to him—maybecouldn’tcome to him.
Nathan closed his eyes. Jim and Sasha hadn’t been the only things twisted in the Veil. They had twisted him too. He had given in and just hadn’t known it long before he ever said,“Okay, Jim. Okay…I’ll choose you. I’ll do whatever you ask me to.”
“Nathan!” called a voice from outside the car, muffled around the engine and steel cage Nathan had chosen for sanctuary. Helooked up and saw Jim and Sasha standing in the doorway of the Gatehouse, looking out at him. They had found him and were staring with worried expressions like they thought he might gun it suddenly and be gone.
Nathan waved mutely to say he was coming back in and they reluctantly nodded and left him be, returning inside. He had to wonder, knowing what they were dealing with, what had been given up for him, and what consequences it still might have, if it had really been worth it to save him.
Looking into the rearview mirror, it took barely a thought to summon his black eyes, and deep in his gut he knew what he considered the answer to that question.
Nathanpushedhimselftomake it through another day, but his flask never left him, stolen in small sips he hid from the others whenever dark visions threatened to take him again. He tried to act more like the Nathan they missed, and sometimes it was almost easy like it had been that first night when he had listened to Jim and Sasha talk, or that first hour amongst the others when they were eating and chatting about nothing. But it was still an act. The harder he tried to feel like himself, the less he could. The less he could feel anything.
Wally still wouldn’t go near him. He started asking for menial tasks just so his hands would always be busy. He begged Jim for them to find a dark fae to hunt, something, even if the only leads they had were meager. Jim was a fucking Changeling Jesus now that he was Awakened and yet still in complete, sane control of himself; he had to be able to sense something.
Jim hadn’t found that reference very funny.
When Nathan wasn’t thinking on anything specific, when he was just lost in his head or struggling to maintain control, he would do pretty much anything Jim asked him to. He didn’t mean to be so obliging, it just came naturally. Jim always asked so kindly too.
“Nathan, would you grab me that?”
“Nathan, can you help me with this?”
