Nathaniel

Somewhere, beyond his bedroom window, a bird sang out a tune to the rising morning sun. On his hands and knees, Nathaniel peered underneath his bed and retrieved his luggage. He looked over his shoulder for the fifth time, searching for anything strange or out of place. In contrast to the carefree bird happily singing its song, Nathaniel struggled to keep his anxiety at bay. As he packed, his hands trembled and his heart hammered against his chest, his stomach turning slightly. The singing bird paused for a moment; Nathaniel hesitated, looking out the window. He could only see the swaying bare branches of a tree that stood too close to his townhouse blocking the view to the rest of the plaza. Suddenly, a flurry of movements scampered up from the tree. Nathaniel scrambled to his feet, pulling a silver knife from his pocket that he plucked from the Resistance's hideout that night. He narrowed his eyes at the offending movement on the tree. It was just a squirrel. Nathaniel cursed and let himself relaxed.

This was no good. His own home was no longer safe. He felt violated. Anger slowly building, he held the silver knife tightly, its cool touch giving him some comfort. If a demon were to come to attack him, he wouldn't be completely defenseless. After all, he did also take the elemental spheres. If things came to that, he could always chuck it at the demon and hoped for the best. It's a good thing he'll be leaving the country and be gone for quite some time. If the Resistance weren't watching, he felt he could sneak past them and have them lose their trail on him. Any more attempted assassinations would have to wait for them. He took a deep breath, calming his tense nerves. Jane would be here any minute.

After stuffing one last clean shirt, he clipped his luggage shut and looked about him. They say that a person's bedroom reflected a person's mind. If this was true, Nathaniel could use some help. He grimaced at the mess. The bed was unmade, sheets and pillows were thrown unceremoniously to the side. The bin beside his nightstand was overflowing with balled up crumpled notes from many sleepless nights. His dressers and drawers were all half opened, clothes spilling out of it. Dust collected in thick sheets over every surface of his room. At least his study room was neat.

A knock on the door sounded, prompting Nathaniel to move. A beaming Jane stood behind the door; Nathaniel ushered her in.

"Good morning, John." She said cheerfully, planting a quick kiss on his cheek. She looked down, noticing a packed luggage by his feet. Her smile faltered. "Going somewhere?"

"Yes, I'm going to Prague."

Jane shifted. "Do you have a lead with Hopkins and the mercenary? The resistance kid talked?"

"I do, and yes. He gave me the location of their hideout and I've found some names." From his pocket, he pulled out the folder with the list of names and placed it in her hands. "I'm going with Bartimaeus undercover. I was hoping you could cover for my absence. This is the list of names I've found while searching. I need you to find and interrogate them. No one must know that I'm gone. I also found out that the Resistance have found out where I lived."

Jane gasped, hastily looking about her. "You mean they could be listening to us right now? I knew my place was much more secure."

Nathaniel placed a hand on her shoulder, steadying her. "They could be listening," he admitted, almost whispering. "Be wary of your surroundings and change your route constantly in case anyone is following. I'll be gone for a bit. I don't know when I'll return. Also, can you give me an update on the Resistance attack? The one that had you leave during the interrogation."

She leaned in closer, whispering. "Two more kids attacked a bar that the magicians frequently visit. The kids are dead but they took down two more of our men. It was similar to the attack at the Prime Minister's home. We took in the bodies and we're identifying them."

Nathaniel nodded slowly, letting the information stew around his mind. "How is the Prime Minister?"

She sighed. "He hasn't come out of his private home. I have my men surrounding his property. He also had several of the ministers to summon a demon to protect him. He's gone mad with paranoia."

Nathaniel stayed silent. He could hardly blame the Prime Minister now. He often felt he was going mad himself. Not even moments ago, he was scampering away from a squirrel like a mewling child. Nathaniel reached out a hand to his face, rubbing the bridge of his nose. He suddenly felt very tired. The lack of sleep was getting to him.

"Do you plan to leave soon?" Jane asked. A curious mixture of excitement and concern could be heard in her voice.

Nathaniel stifled a yawn. "Yes, I leave in a few hours."

"Hmmm. In the next day or two, we're having a public funeral for the magicians we've lost in the two attacks. It's going to be a grand event, but we're not sure if we want to have the commoners join in. Can't really tell who is in the Resistance among them. Since you'll be absent, is there anything you would like to say so I can pass it on?"

"Oh, um. Say something along the lines that I think they were great and influential magicians. And mention that while they may be gone, they leave behind power. Or something like that."

Jane paused. "When's the last time you slept, John?" She asked, reaching to hold his hand.

Nathaniel pulled back. "Please, don't try to convince me to go sleep. I have a flight to catch in a few hours."

"At least get some sleep on the plane ride."

"I'll attempt to."

"Well, if you won't sleep…"

Jane stepped close, glancing down at his lips. Nathaniel blinked; she pressed her lips into his. She leaned into him making him lose his balance slightly. Nathaniel half-heartedly kissed back, letting Jane take control. She threw her arms around his neck, holding him tightly. His heart hammered against his chest and his hands hovered over her waist awkwardly. Despite, his eagerness to please her, Nathaniel felt something was missing.

Nothing ever means anything to you.

He raised a fumbling hand to cup her face gently. He angrily suppressed any thoughts of Bartimaeus. The last thing he needed was to focus on an argument while kissing his date goodbye. Suddenly, Jane's tongue brushed his lips; his eyes shot open from the shock. Bartimaeus hadn't taught him how to kiss with tongue. Shit. Clumsily, Nathaniel returned the favor, his tongue passing slightly against hers. He shivered. It felt like a slug.

With quick hands, Jane reached to his belt, loosening it. Nathaniel pulled back, eyes wide open.

"What are you doing?"

"What do you mean? I just want to give you something to remember me by when you're gone." She said, giggling.

"No, stop." Nathaniel grasped her hands, pushing her off gently. Her smile faded, brows furrowing.

"Is something the matter? Is it me?"

Nathaniel struggled to answer. Truthfully, he didn't have one. After sputtering and stammering, he stopped and took a breath. He could feel Jane's hot eyes on him. She was obviously humiliated. He needed to come up with a good answer.

"No, I just don't think I can do that… now." He felt the back of his neck go hot. "I'm just stressed, that's all. My mind is somewhere far away and I won't be able to, um, enjoy it."

Jane's eyes softened, her tense shoulders relaxing. "Oh, I hadn't realized. I'm sorry, John. Just let me know when you're ready, okay?"

Nathaniel recomposed himself. "It's fine. It was my fault for not being completely honest." It was partly true, at least.

"I need to finish prepping for my leave, Jane. Please excuse me."

"Oh, right. I'll get going now. Let me know as soon as you get back. I'll look into these suspects and interrogate the ones I can find." She hurried to the door, gathering herself together. She looked back at Nathaniel, a sad smile on her lips. "Um, have a safe flight and trip, John. And I'm sorry again."

Jane shut the door behind her, leaving Nathaniel alone.

Nathaniel waited, hearing her soft footsteps fade off as she walked away. His throat tightened, his lips quivering.

Nothing ever means anything to you. Begrudgingly, as if a giant wave of grief had washed over him, Nathaniel found himself failing at holding back hot tears. He fell to his knees, a soft sob erupting from within. He gasped, and coughed, and coughed again. The tears continued to fall, and his shoulders shook. He drew in a shaky breath trying to calm the wave of complicated emotions within him. He couldn't do it. He felt nothing. He had the chance to be with Jane, and he couldn't do it. The kiss with Jane meant absolutely nothing to him. He thought of all of her redeeming qualities: she was beautiful, ambitious, intelligent, strong. Not that long ago, she once clouded his mind. He often struggled to focus on work, and fought the urge to chase after her. But now, it was all gone. He wiped his cheeks with a shaky hand.

Nothing ever means anything to you. Bartimaeus's words had stung earlier. Now they were taunting. He gritted his teeth and slammed a fist against the floor. It was that damn demon. He must have done a trick on his mind, planted a seed of doubt. If it weren't for him, Nathaniel could be embracing Jane right now. Bartimaeus was constantly dancing in his mind. He couldn't even focus on being with Jane without thinking of him. For a brief moment, Nathaniel thought of going into the study room where a waiting Bartimaeus sat in a pentacle, waiting to be summoned at Prague. He fought back the urge to give him the Shriveling Fire, letting out all of his pent-up emotions.

He sighed. It would do no good and it wouldn't be fair. Nathaniel rubbed his sore eyes, exhaustion weighing down on his muscles. Nothing ever means anything to you. Bartimaeus's stinging words weighed heavily on his mind.

"That's not true," he said with a raw voice to no one in particular.