*Author's Note
(I am a newbie writer and a newbie Fanfic user so please bare with me if you wish to continue)
I am #TeamNathanandAllieForever (As they have stolen my heart from day 1) and day one fan of the show that shall not be named. Having been devastated by the finale, I took it upon myself to write a fanfiction as an apology to my #TeamJackForever (and now #TeamNewton) sister for wrangling her back into the series in season 8 (I know, I'm the worst). Seeing as I spent so much time on it, I thought why not share it with anyone who is interested. If you love it, great! Thank you so much! But if you don't, I understand and release you of any obligation to continue reading further updates. As a warning, E and L are mentioned and involved in this story of healing. Both in their own way are partially redeemed, but certainly do not stay together. I offer no hate to either Elizabeth or Lucas and ask that if anyone wishes to leave a review that it would respectful and kind. Although this is my happy ending for Nathan, I will not be fluffing over the wreckage of the finale. Like all happy endings, trauma has to be processed, courage has to be refined, and obstacles need to be overcome. Grief is terrifyingly gruesome but when we see our grief and process it thoroughly we can come to see glimmers of beauty in living with the void left by loss.
With no further ado, Enjoy!
Chapter 1
It wasn't odd for Teddy to ask for a ride home, his house being just a couple blocks away. Cataloging the museum's dusty artifacts from this week's shipment at such a late hour was common. An oddity came by way of the night skies turning a murky black. Snow had begun to drift down between the buildings, melting on the wet pavement. Red and green stoplights flicked on and off casting their ominous glow across the lonely blacktop. Barely any cars were on the snow-caked roads. Night hours crept on, hushing the world into silence. Ignoring the aching muscles that fought an urge to sleep, she took in the full moon illuminating the night sky. A single red light above drifted far from her mind while the luscious moon's seduction entranced in its misty glow. Thumbs drumming against the steering wheel, she pulled herself back against the driver's seat. "If there was such a thing as a magical moon, that one would convince me of it."
Moonlight cascaded across Teddy's smile stirring a sense of melancholy encroaching upon him. "I haven't seen the moon glow like that for quite some time. Maybe it is magical."
She rolled her eyes. Although not entirely the most open man at the Museum, his silence made her wonder and ponder the sensitivity in his heart. She wished to hold a small piece of understanding, bringing to light the shadows of a bridged gap between thoughts and formed ideas. His demeanor, articulate and subdued, kept his mind at a distance, stemming from a protected experience. "Are you going home for Christmas?"
He shook his head, breaking his trance with the moon. "No, I can't."
"We're getting four days off. You should try, you know, reconnect."
Keys jingled while the car jerked softly into the drive. Moonlight cast its amber glow on his lonesome tone. "I wouldn't know how."
"A call would be a start."
"If only it were that easy." Wide hands smoothed the cover of the worn book in his lap. "No, I suppose the company of a trusted book will have to do."
She spied the weathered leather binding of a first edition published many years ago. The many times she had spoken with Teddy, he had always carried it with him. It wasn't very large, but too cumbersome for a pocket. Although never finding a need to ask, she had found a necessity deeply rooted in him to hold dearly to the simple written words. "Must be one fantastic book."
"It isn't anything special, just a simple story of familiar faces." He tucked the book under his arm before reaching for the door. "Many might find it a tad boring, but when you find home between the pages, why keep looking elsewhere?"
Her gaze followed him out of the car. It was hard to blame him for his romanticism of a trusted friend hidden in the faded pages. How desperately she had longed for simply that in a cracked binding of another. A chuckle escaped her when she saw the relatively young man with an old soul smile back at her. "Merry Christmas, Teddy."
"Merry Christmas, Nan."
The remainder of her trip home silence brought to life her internal wonderings proving none of her business. How trapped the hopeless romantic soul wandered through a time not his own, his consciousness isolated from his soul's true home. Maybe it was simply an over-imaginative mind being reborn by a magical-like moon, but the leather-bound book was not easily forgotten. It whispered to her, daring her to understand the confines of its importance to the one who held its every word in significance. The blanket of white falling from the sky washed a clean slate turning her imagination up in the frozen fractals.
Entering the solitude confines of home, she tried to shake the meanderings of unanswered questions. Musings' footsteps carried her beside memories barred far from sight. How she longed to find her heart's home once more as Teddy had found his. If only to open a book and discover its presence vivid and near. Framed memories scattered across the dim walls lured her further towards the hollow clutter. A perfect day, eternally snuffed out by a wretched night. Dreams written in the smile of two men, one young and one old yet neither to grow gray. If only a book could bring them back again to her. If only to awaken the laughter of a father and the love of someone much more dear. Not tonight, she prayed, feeling the tenderness provoked in simple remembrance.
Treading further into the home, the mumble of a T.V. silenced the undertow. Another Christmas movie manipulated the attention of her roommate, something a thousand lifetimes could not normalize. Stopping beside the couch, she tried not to judge the choice of the redundant movie. "This one again?"
The woman didn't move from her lounging. "Shh, I'll miss the best part."
Nan flopped into the Barcalounger, pushing away the memories of times lost. She grudgingly waited through the part of the man spilling his heart out poetically to the unimpressed woman. When the moment passed, Nan rolled her eyes. "A spiel of a thousand narcissists."
"No. Not tonight, please. I cannot go through this argument again."
"As long as she's happy." Nannette draped the back of her hand over her forehead. "What if she isn't happy, or she was with him, but now her heart has changed? Then what? What happens to him if she changes her mind?"
"True love doesn't wither and fade, you just have to follow your heart to one another."
"Follow your heart?" Nan groaned. "Did your heart lead you to be sitting on the couch tonight?"
"It hasn't led me astray yet."
"Yet." Nan shook her head. "What good is a heart but to pump blood through your entire body?"
"Your heart is a guide. Your heart wants what your heart wants. There isn't anything you can do about it."
"The heart is deceitful."
"Yes, but there are good men who will be patient with you to figure out your heart, waiting for the moment to poetically sweep you off your feet."
"Poetically?" Nan nearly snorted. "And what happens when all that poetry ends?"
"Um, the good stuff?"
"Nothing, Vera, absolutely nothing."
"Seriously, who hurt you?" Vera pouted.
"If you have to oversell it, it isn't worth buying. Repeated poetics have only learned that a heart is easily persuaded one way and manipulated in another. It doesn't prove an honest heart. It proves a scripted dialogue."
Vera frowned. "Poetics are romance for the soul, you know that right?"
"Poetics are not love. Do poetics sit by your side when you're sick or hold back your hair when you're hurling? I don't need someone who has memorized Shakespeare's sonnets. I need a man who won't run when everything goes sideways."
"Says the girl sitting here on a Friday night."
"It's better to be alone with my thoughts than to be lonely in a crowded room."
"Is it?" Vera pulled back into the couch cushion. "Maybe Teddy will listen to your heartless romantics."
Nan shook her head fervently. "No."
"Why not?"
"He's a man who knows that poetics only lead to more words, but not true thoughts." Nan's mind wandered back to the book. "I believe he's been hurt by time, something that can't be repaired."
"Great, perfect for you."
Her eyes rolled. "I just feel like he's had that epic, selfless love and anything else would be second rate."
"So, you can feel it? You mean like your heart is telling you that?"
"No." Came Nan's flat glare. "Like my gut instinct is deciphering the information given."
"Uhuh." Vera nodded slowly, then her eyes squinted. "Just because it's the second time around doesn't mean it's second rate."
"It's far too easy to compare." She fingered the button at her wrist.
"I see your point, cynic." Vera lifted the bag of chocolates between them. "Will chocolate suffice?"
"That will more than suffice." Nan held out her hand as Vera dug into the bag retrieving a handful. She tossed a couple of pieces at a time. One landed in Nan's lap, while the other skidded onto the floor beside her. Stretching from her comfortable position, she reached for the chocolate. The arm of the chair pushed into her stomach sending the blood rushing to her head.
"Ope, sorry." The chocolate flung across the room harder than anticipated, colliding dead center into the soft spot of Nan's temple.
A sharp, icy pain sliced through her temple. A pressure, more intense than chocolate should provoke, throbbed in her pounding head. Swinging her head up from the reaching grasp, a dizzying blackness flooded her vision. A cold numbness tingled her arms, searing heat scorched her heart. Dim objects in the room began to float into blurred chaos. Vera's muffled voice called to her, but the more she fought the farther she went. Falling back into the chair, the darkness enclosed around her sending her into a dizzying spin backward.