The Lost Boy
Author's Warning: mature/confronting theme.
Nathan swirled his scotch around in the glass but as his eyes stared at the amber liquid his mind flashed to the horrible memory of the teenage boy he'd found hanging from his bedroom ceiling. The horrible handwritten note left lying on the boy's bed.
"This is the Rev's fault, even now he's gone his words are still poisoning this town, they poisoned that boy, they took away his hope, eroded his identity, left him with nothing," Nathan murmured angrily. If the Rev had still had a flesh form Nathan would have stormed from the crime scene to the church and hurled abuse at him. As it was Audrey had only barely been able to talk Nathan out of going to the Rev's church and hurling abuse (or worse) at whoever was there.
"Hey, it's horrible, don't get me wrong, but even in towns without the troubles, it happens," Audrey soothed; she rubbed comforting circles on Nathan's back. The image of the boy dangling limply was haunting her too and she'd had her own shot of scotch, but she'd stopped at one when Nathan hadn't.
"That boy didn't have to die, that boy was worth something. We should have saved him, we should have known…. His parents should have known."
"I know, and maybe his death will do some good, when word gets around a lot of parents in this town might look out for their kids a bit more, even the ones that attend The Good Shepard. His death will be a wakeup call for a lot of people, classmates, friends, relatives; it will touch the lives of people he never even met. But we can't save everyone, you do more than anyone for this town Nathan but you can't be responsible for every single person."
"Then who is?" Nathan asked looking at Audrey, the pain evident on his face. "My father tried…"
"Your father was a stubborn as you are and he did a great job, but you can't tell me there weren't people he failed, and this wasn't your failure Nathan," Audrey reassured him. "This own parents didn't see what was happening."
"It could have been me Parker," Nathan admitted in a horse tone. "It almost was."
Audrey was stunned into silence.
"At least it would have been painless for me," Nathan added darkly.
Audrey knew the case of the troubled boy who had taken his own life to end the pain, the sense of worthlessness and the loss of control, had hit close to home with Nathan, but she had never imagined that her partner had ever been that close to succumbing to the darkness. All she could do was reach for his hand and hold it. "Promise me if you ever even think about doing something like that you'll call me or Duke or Dave or Vince. We all love you Nathan Wuornos, you are never alone in this."
"It's okay Parker, it was a long time ago. I grew up, I saw people who had it worse than me and I got some perspective. I learnt to count my blessings, and work towards a greater purpose, but that boy will never get the chance to realise that things would have gotten better eventually." His voice was barely above a whisper and he said most of the words to his glass rather than to his beautiful blue-eyed partner. Nathan didn't cry but Audrey could sense that it was only his immense sense of self control that kept them at bay. Eventually Nathan met Audrey's gaze with a look that was burning with pain and admitted, "I've never told anyone before. Maybe I shouldn't have."
"No I'm glad you did, I already knew how strong you are, now I know you're even stronger."
"Strong?" Nathan asked in disbelief.
"It takes strength to face that sort of depression and pull yourself out of it." Audrey didn't tell him the truth, which was that even on her worst day she'd never thought about taking her own life, and in some strange way she wondered if that made her less of a real person. Was it because some part of her knew that her time was limited anyway? She'd had bad days like everyone else, where she just wanted to eat cupcakes and read trashy novels, like the day after she'd found out she was Lucy Ripley, but she never imagined ending her own life. Part of her wondered if she could, if she was some sort of mystical entity sent here to help out during the troubles, would Audrey Parker really die or would she just be reborn as another woman with another set of memories, the same face and a different hair color?
"If I'd known you were coming it wouldn't have been so hard," Nathan confessed, and for a moment a weak half-smiled flashed across his face. "But we have to do more for these kids, reach out to the ones that don't know or understanding that the troubles aren't forever, that the troubles don't define them, and that whatever they are, whatever happens to them, they are still worth something."
"It's not just the troubled kids, it's all of them, we can talk to the schools make sure they're getting enough help here. I don't mind volunteering to do a few talks on bullying and personal safety, anything is going to be better than career day."
"It's more than that, this whole town is getting closer and closer to a cold war, we have to make sure the community isn't any more polarised than it already is, we need to make sure the events that bring this community together keep going on and that the troubles don't threaten the things the community holds dearest."
"That's a pretty heavy burden we're taking on," Audrey observed. "But I think that's why I'm here."
"Me too," Nathan agreed.
"Alright, so we do it together," Audrey resolved.
"Together," Nathan swallowed hard and nodded in agreement.
A/N: If you are feeling depressed or contemplating self-harm, please, get help – the internet is a fabulous resource it only takes a few minutes to search for free helplines in your area. For your sake of your loved ones, but most of all for your own sake, get help if you need it. There is no such thing as a worthless person who won't be missed. (Sorry if that all sounds a bit preachy but I believe every word of it).