Salutations! This is very depressing!
Warnings: Murder, character death, rape/non-con, dub-con, abuse, attempted murder, PTSD, trauma, sickness, medical shit, RECOVERY
As a separate warning I have no idea how court shit works, and same goes for jail/prison. Don't even try to correct me on the timeline or specifics of when things happen, just go with it.
Important Note: This was written after the release of episode 5. This follows the "sacrifice Chloe" ending.
The sky was steel grey, as Nathan stepped outside for the first time in five years. The air was cold, biting, the icy snow blowing wildly as he slowly made his way down the walkway away from the Arcadia Bay jail.
He didn't look back.
The past five years of his life had been hell - not that he hadn't deserved it, he mused. He had been lucky, in his first year: That entire year, he had hardly been around the other prisoners, spending most of his time being interrogated, or in court. It had been stressful, sickening, to listen to their actions listed out in such a straight-forward, professional way. In spite of that, Nathan still plead guilty to all his actions.
He had been tired of lying. Plus, they said if he plead guilty, he would only get five years in jail, instead of nearly sixty. He wasn't stupid - he took the deal. Unfortunately, he also took the baggage that came with that deal.
They called him a murderer, a sex offender, in the papers. He had to sign all these forms, saying he confirmed everything on them was true. He also had to testify against Mark Jefferson.
It had been harder than he thought. It was true, that he despised Mark with every inch of his being...but he loved him just as much. Nathan had spent the last several years trying to forget the horrors of Jefferson's trial...but in the dark of night, when the nightmares and the voices became too much, Nathan could only curl up and cry, the memories of that trial causing him to feel a pain so intense, he could feel it in his bones.
Three people had testified: Max Caulfield, Kate Marsh, and himself. The girls had been so professional, so...strong. In comparison to them, he felt like a coward: The minute he took the stand, he rambled, just letting it all spill out. He told about all the girls, what had happened...he ignored their questions about his relationship with Mark, because even he didn't truly know what it was they had. However, when he ran out of words and the weight of one particular stare became too much, Nathan finally looked up, meeting Mark Jefferson's eyes.
And then he broke.
Nathan didn't remember much, only that Jefferson looked disappointed in him. The rest of that day was lost in a veil of pain and agony. He woke up the morning after to the shaking of a nurse, only to realize he was in the jailhouse's hospital, his face and arms covered in self-inflicted scars and scratches - however the dull ache of those superficial wounds was nothing compared to the heaviness that had settled in his heart. In that moment, he thought he had hit his lowest.
The subsequent four years made him yearn for those days in court.
It had been exactly as he expected - he was a little fish in a big pond surrounded by big fish. It took less than a day for him to be beaten and raped, in the laundry room. It had been bad - he ended up in the hospital for about a week, after that - but it wasn't the worst thing that happened to him whilst he was in there.
After all, Mark was there. Though the guards tried their damnest to make sure Mark and Nathan were as far away from each other at all times, Mark was charming, manipulative. Somehow, he always managed to pop up in Nathan's life.
Mark didn't touch him for the first two years - granted, Nathan was in high demand because he was so small and young. However, as time wore on him, and he grew thin and sickly looking, his once- bright eyes and soft hair dulling, as he began to look like just another washed up criminal, Mark swept in.
Nathan knew Mark was bad. He knew Mark hated him, for all he said in the courtrooms. He knew Mark was the reason he was in this entire mess in the first place.
But he also knew Mark was warm, when his arms wrapped around Nathan...and nights in the prison got oh-so cold.
Nathan didn't want the sex, but he didn't even feel he had the strength to protest anymore. Mark used him, and went on his way. Nathan longed for everything to stop, and at the same time he longed for something more.
He knew it was wrong, very wrong. In the same vein, he also had no one to tell him what was right.
He received no visitors, not one, in during his entire sentence. He knew his father had disowned him right after the trials - and as such, Nathan had received no therapy, no treatment, as there was no money.
So there he was, just falling back into old habits, bad habits that would only end with his own death.
And it very nearly did.
By that point, at the beginning of his fourth year, Mark was behaving like he always had - gentle when he was happy with Nathan, brutal when he wasn't. He had been lingering longer after their sessions, arms wrapped around Nathan. Nathan hardly bled anymore, and he had actually felt minute pleasure, during their last round.
Mark asked him, once, during a meal, to meet him in the laundry rooms later. He gave Nathan a soft smile, the one that always caused Nathan's heart to jump, as his fingers lingered on Nathan's shoulder.
When Nathan got down there, the rooms were completely abandoned - or so he thought. He was knocked out quickly. He woke up for short periods of time, when Mark was brutally ripping his clothes off, when he was thrusting into his immobile body, and when he was shoved into the clothes drier, bleeding out from the cuts covering his beaten body.
He was found a couple hours later, barely alive. He never saw Mark again.
Nathan knew Mark had planned the whole thing all along - a subtle revenge on Nathan, crescendoing up into one final move towards the endgame. Jefferson had seen Nathan talk in that courtroom, saying everything but the details of their own relationship...he had sensed Nathan's weakness as easily then as he always had. And he had used it.
Deep down, Nathan had known.
He never fully recovered from Jefferson's attack. It had been brutal - the man had beaten him so thoroughly, that the internal damage was as bad as the external. Not to mention the oxygen deprivation, from being stuck in the clothes drier for so long.
For that entire last year, Nathan's memory was speckled with periods of unknown, where he wasn't sure what had happened. His brain worked slower, making processing hard and making communicating even harder. For a while, even walking was a challenge...even as he stepped out into the freezing January air, Nathan walked with a pronounced limp.
Nathan kept his head down, as he made his way away from the prison, his long hair falling in his face. He knew he probably looked pitiful, wearing only the white cardigan he had worn when he was arrested and a pair of faded jeans and sneakers, especially considering the snow storm that was getting progressively worse. To be honest, he couldn't give a shit.
He had no plan, no idea as to where to go or what to do. He hadn't seen a person outside of the jail's walls for five years - he had no family, no friends. No place to go. No money. No food, no shelter, no nothing.
Nathan bowed his head lower as the wind picked up, causing the snow to pound against his hunched back, as he slowly made his way down the road, into the darkening night.
He jolted as a car suddenly sped past him, spraying him with freezing slush. The force of the ice hitting him caused him to loose his balance slightly - which in combination with his bad leg and the already-slick road, caused him to fall into the snowy ditch.
Nathan breathed in and out, his breaths shuddering as he stared up into the falling snow. He was acutely aware of his clothing becoming damp from the snow, as well as the shivers racing through his body becoming even more intense. He knew he needed to get up, to keep going...but as he laid there, the snow flakes hitting his slowly numbing face, he couldn't help but wonder what the point would be.
He swallowed hard, his eyes aching...but he knew he wouldn't cry. He hadn't for years. Instead, he rolled his head to the side, looking through the falling snow and leafless branches of the woods, catching the soft golden glow coming from down the road.
Slowly, agonizingly, he rolled over onto his knees, before climbing to his feet. He swayed for a second, blinking as his vision came in and out of focus, before he stepped onto the road once more, a destination finally in mind.
OoO
Arcadia Bay hadn't changed all that much, in the time he had been gone. All the stores and houses were still covered in the same chipped paint, faded and peeling. The cars parked around were still from the 90s, still rusty. The only real difference was the snow on the ground, and the fact that there were left over Christmas lights still dangling everywhere.
Nathan shivered, making a path down the abandoned sidewalk. He wasn't sure why he came back - it wasn't as though he had anyone or anything left for him there. However, when he saw that soft comforting glow of the lights from the town reflecting across the Bay, he almost felt he had no choice but to return.
Plus, he felt himself becoming weaker - if he would have tried to go anywhere else but Arcadia, he probably wouldn't have made it.
As if on cue, he stumbled slightly, only able to stop himself from collapsing by grasping ahold of a nearby wall. He shuddered, his eyes darting around in desperation - he needed to get out of the storm, and quick.
The sound of a slamming door caught his attention. Nathan glanced down the alleyway he stood at the mouth of, watching as a person made their way back inside a door. He bit his lip, knowing it would be a stretch to beg for a random stranger to shelter him. But...he was desperate.
Keeping a hand on the wall, he made his way down the alleyway, trying to focus on putting one foot in front of the other. Just as he made it to the door, his legs finally gave out from under him, causing to fall, banging his shoulder against the door, rattling it in its frame.
He winced at the noise and at his own weakness. He had hoped to merely ask the person within the door if they were willing for him to stay in wherever the place was for the night, and if they said no, he would move on. As it were, he was too weak to even stay on his feet any longer - the best he could hope for was whoever was inside that door to take pity on him.
Muffled talking came from inside, before the door opened, flooding the dark alleyway with light. Nathan squinted up at the shadowy figure, aware of how he must have looked, with his shivering form and his long dirty hair and gaunt face. He hoped whomever was standing above him was a kind soul.
"Wha-" a woman's voice began, before abruptly cutting off. "You..."
Nathan froze, recognizing the voice. The woman standing above him shifted, so he could see her face.
Nathan recognized her as the hostess of Two Whales diner, true, but he recognized her from his trial even more.
Joyce Price. Chloe's mom. The mom of the girl he murdered.
Nathan flinched violently away, trying to climb to his feet. However, his bad leg wasn't cooperating, shooting pains darting from his toes to his hip. All he could do was push himself back against the opposite alley wall.
Joyce stepped out into the cold without hesitation, a look of pure fury painted across her face as she came to stand over him.
"What the fucking hell are you doing here?" she snapped. Nathan's jaw worked, his brow furrowing as he tried to concentrate on talking, but she interrupted him before he could. "Shouldn't you be rotting away?"
Nathan sunk the nails of his left hand into his shaking right hand. "Ah... I... g-g...got..." Nathan tried to force out.
Joyce didn't seem to be listening though. She leaned down, her face inches from his as her hand violently jerked him forward by the collar of his shirt.
"I want you gone from here," she growled lowly, her eyes burning. "I want you gone, and if I ever see you again, I will destroy you."
Nathan shuddered at her proximity and the threatening look shining in her eyes, his hand spasmed wildly, causing him to sink his nails into it deeper, drawing blood.
Joyce's furious face remained close to his, her mouth twisted into a snarl. Only then did Nathan realize she expected him to reply.
"A-ah...ah u-uh-um...I...sor...ah..." Nathan gasped out, his chest heaving. To his horror, no matter how much he tried, the words refused to come out.
Joyce's face melted slightly into something besides anger, at seeing the desperate look in Nathan's eyes. "What is wrong with you?" she snapped angrily, but with curiosity.
Nathan once again opened his mouth, but this time his jaw tensed and quivered so thoroughly, he couldn't even form a sound - he could only gasp, as his breaths quickened to an unbearable pace.
The door to the alleyway opened further, another form stepping out into the cold. A gruff voice filled the air, causing Nathan to freeze. "Joyce, what the hell are you doin' out here in this weather-"
Nathan flinched violently, causing Joyce to finally release him. He wished desperately to be able to climb to his feet, to run and get away. He wished desperately to even be able to curl his body inwards, to hopefully minimize the damage done to him. He wished he could form the two-word-sentence we wished so desperately to be able to say to the people in front of him.
However, Nathan couldn't do any of that. He merely laid there, collapsed against the wall as the snow continued to fall, staring up at the parents of the girl he murdered.
For the first time in years, Nathan allowed a singular tear to drip down his cheek, before his vision tunneled and he fell into darkness.
A/N What a happy first chapter! In any case, I hope you enjoyed! Please leave a review for little old me!