NOCTURNE » Nathan Prescott

» xvii. flawed

I closed my eyes and took a few deep breaths before flinging my phone into a corner of the room, where it hit the wall. Nathan furrowed his brows and stretched and arm out towards me; I slapped his hand before he could touch my cheek.

"Nate... I have to ask you something. And I need you to be honest with me," I said and he whimpered again as I took the beer away from his black eye.
"Did you drug Kate? And Chloe? And you took pictures of them?" -- "…" -- "Nate, talk to me. Please?"

He shot up and ripped the bandages from his torso, throwing the compress across the room. Staggering towards the wall he began punching it again. Over and over. I had cleaned up the old stains just the other day, but it was already all bloody again.
Getting up from the floor I walked over to him, as he was continuously punching the wall. Again and again and again.

"Nathan…" Again. "Nathan?" And again. "Nathan!" And again. I held my hand up before his fist could collide with the concrete once more and pain shot through my entire arm, but I clenched my teeth and tried to ignore it.

"Please just talk to me, Nate."

"I FUCKED UP!" he yelled, sinking to his knees, fist still enclosed by my hand.
"I fucked up so bad …" His voice grew quieter and I knelt down next to him, wrapping my other hand around his fist.

"Tell me everything. Start to finish. I'm right here." -- "I never wanted anyone to get hurt. I fucked up. I did. He didn't. Of course it's always me."

His voice started shaking the longer he talked and he took a deep breath, looking at me in desperation. "Who? Nathan, who is he?" I asked, and his already red eyes began to water again.

"Mark."

I furrowed my brows. "Mark? As in Mark Jefferson?"
He nodded and I felt my heart sink. I'd always felt like something was off about that guy but I never could put my finger on it.

"He- he told me we- we would always work together and-" -- "Nate, hey, take a deep breath, okay? We have time." For a while he remained silent until the fist that I was still holding relaxed a bit.

"He came to me and- he told me my photography caught his eye and that he- he would like to work with me. He asked me if there was a place we could turn into our studio and I told him about the bunker that my father had built. He was always so supportive of me. He listened to me and he complimented my photography and-"
He stopped again, sniffling.
"He put me in charge of organising models and- I fucked up so bad, Maddie. I'm so sorry." -- "What happened?" I asked, trying to swallow the lump that formed in my throat.
"I- I gave her an overdose. She's gone. I never meant for anyone to get hurt. He- he said they wouldn't remember a thing. He never said they could die!"

He buried his face in my shoulder and I placed a hand on the back of his head. "Rachel." My heart stopped again. "She's dead. Kate almost died. I fucked up so bad. I'm so sorry. Sorry …"
Tears were streaming down my face as I held Nathan tight, afraid he would crumble to pieces if I let go. I remembered the night he came to me and told me the doctor had diagnosed him with schizophrenia, and how completely ridiculous it was, and then we had gotten drunk to forget it all. At the time I didn't believe it, but it made more sense now. There was obviously a clear line of how far you could go for your art, and Nathan had gone far past it, but up until now his brain hadn't realised that. I assumed Jefferson had used Nathan's mental situation and acted as a father figure for him, to earn his trust and loyalty. And of course to have someone to blame should something go wrong. And of course Nathan had gone along with it. I felt sick to my stomach.

Nathan kept mumbling how he was sorry and I felt his tears seeping into the fabric of my hoodie.

We sat there for a long time, holding on to each other, crying, and when I lifted my head to look at the time it was well past eight.
"Nathan?" I nudged him and he hesitated to look up, seemingly scared that I would punch him in the face right then and there. With a sigh I placed a hand on his cheek and wiped away the tears with my thumb.

"You should lay back down before your nose starts bleeding again," I said, my voice merely a whisper, and he nodded. While I picked up the still relatively cool compress and my phone from the ground Nathan crawled back into his bed, staring at the ceiling.

I placed the compress on his ribs again, and he held it in place while I crawled next to him and wrapped an arm around him. "I'm sorry," he muttered again and I shook my head.
"You need help, Nate." -- "I know." -- "I'm gonna get you out of here and we'll fix this. I promise."

In response he brushed a few strands of hair out of my face and rested his hand on my cheek. "Why are you still here?"
With a crooked smile I placed my hand on top of his. "Couldn't leave if I wanted to," I whispered, noticing how the tears had stoped flowing and all that was left were wet traces on his cheeks. Nathan wrapped his arms around me again, burying my face in his chest.

"Maddie?" -- "Mhm?" -- "You're the only one I have left."
His voice was barely audible but it was enough for me, and only me, to hear. Immediately after saying it I felt a slight flinch and he held his breath. I wondered how long it had been since he had opened up to someone so much. If that had ever happened at all.

"You should get some rest."

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A/N: i'm sorry updates are taking so long. existing is really stressful at the moment.