Nathan feels the recoil go up his arm. He sees the blood splatter and the surprise on the man's face. It's all in slow motion, lingering and terrifying. Nathan watches the event unfold in front of him through a layer of fog, not sure he believe he was really capable of this or that he'd really killed someone. Jefferson had told him before, coming out of the daze of drugs, that Nathan had hurt Rachel. That he had done something unforgivable, but Jefferson took care of it for him. He remembers feeling sick, terrified and confused. Lost. Like he couldn't believe it. Like nothing was real. He couldn't remember doing it. Why would he have hurt Rachel? She was his friend. He loved her.
He couldn't remember killing Rachel, but he would always remember this moment. He would always remember killing Mark Jefferson.
He sinks to the floor, closing his eyes and trying to get his breathing in control, even though his heart is hammering so hard his ribs feel like they could break. He brings his knees up to his chest, curls into them and makes an agonized sound that turns into a deep sob. Gripping at his hair, pulling so hard that it tears out in places. He can't look away from Jefferson's body, but it's killing him to look at it. Sick. He think he might be sick. He gags and turns to the side, choking out a wet, disgusting noise. Fat tears fall down his face and a heavy buzzing numbness overtakes his body. Shock.
And then, the screaming starts. The agonized wailing of someone who feels like they're dying. Nathan knows Jefferson was going to kill him. He knows that Jefferson used him. Hurt him. Abused him. He knows Jefferson hurt others and he was going to keep on hurting other people. That Jefferson was going to hurt Victoria, and that couldn't happen. Nathan would never let anyone hurt Victoria.
Nathan wants to hate Jefferson. He wants to laugh and be relieved that Jefferson is finally fucking dead and out of his life and that no one could control him anymore. But he can't. No matter how many times Mark had yelled or lashed out at Nathan, or made him feel small and scared, Nathan couldn't hate the man or love him any less. Twisted fucked up love. Nathan knew that he would always be conflicted. Did he do the right thing? Was killing Mark Jefferson the only option he had? He killed his father figure. He killed the person who validated him. The man who gave him attention and affection. He would always feel guilty.
All he'd wanted was Jefferson's love. All he'd wanted was to be praised and cared for and to feel, for a moment, that he was the world's best son again. But he'd killed Jefferson and destroyed everything he loved.
Even when he was free of Jefferson's control, those chains of guilt were stifling, weighing on him and choking him.