#strangebay

[nprescott]

@strangebay said: sender wipes away receiver's tears - max

Nathan knew Jefferson was going to kill him. And he almost had. He drugged him and left him stuffed away in the barn. He must have dosed him 3 or 4 times since then. If it wasn't for the weather, he probably wouldn't have even woken up. The freezing rain and howling wind revived him. And with unsteady steps, Nathan stumbled around with his hands bound. He managed to cut the duct tape using a piece of rusty metal sticking off of the tractor. His head was far from clear, the drugs were still in his system. But he managed to slip into the Dark Room.

Jefferson had taken his gun and his phone. So when he saw Max tied up and him taking pictures of her, he knew he had to act quickly. It happened so fast that his drugged up mind couldn't keep up. He ran at Jefferson and threw himself on top of him. It was in flashes. He squeezed his hands tightly around the other man's throat. Jefferson, however, pulled a gun from his coat. Despite how sluggish his mind was, Nathan's body acted without his input. He released Jefferson's neck, and in the brief moment that the older man tried to breathe, Nathan wrestled the gun from his hands and put it to his forehead.

The shot rang out in the bunker and stayed in Nathan's skull. It felt like he had gone deaf for a moment. He felt the hot blood hit his face. His hands shook violently as he dropped the gun beside his dead mentor. Nathan had shot him at point-blank range. He had killed him.

Moving more like a zombie than a person, Nathan crawled to Max. There was blood all over him and he hadn't noticed the tears streaming down his cheeks.

"It's... it's gonna be okay." He didn't know if he was telling her or himself. His hands were shaking too much to remove the bindings. It took way longer than it should have, but he did it. And only then did he collapse entirely. 6 months worth of pent up emotion flowed out of him. He screamed and sobbed. He had killed Jefferson. He had saved Max. And yet... he was still afraid. He was still.... breaking down.

And then he felt Max's touch as she wiped away his tears. Why? She hated him, didn't she? Fuck, he hadn't exactly made it hard for her to hate him, had he?

Nathan hated being touched without permission. Maybe it was because of what had just happened. Or maybe it was because he had been drugged over and over, but her simple gesture felt like a lifeline to him.

"Max... I'm so fucking sorry.... I... I never wanted... I tried to warn you... I..."

[girlsurvive]

perhaps i could help. - from Juliet

"I don't need you pryin' in my business." Jessie rolls her eyes, throwing her bag into the back of her car. "You helpin' would get me killed."

[nprescott]

@strangebay said: [ calming ] sender tries to calm down receiver - Rachel

It was nothing new for him. Panic gave way to anger. In a relentless spiral of fear to rage to grief and back around -- Nathan was drowning in a storm of emotion. Sometimes he felt nothing at all. As if he was too drugged up (or just fucked up) to function like a real person. Other times, he was so raw and easily upset that he was like a storm tearing about everything in his path. Hurt before you get hurt.

Right now, Nathan's fist was bleeding from colliding with the wall. It centered him. Gave him something concrete to ache about instead of whatever was in his head. But there was Rachel, trying to get him to calm down.

"I'm calm!" Then why are you shaking? Why is there blood on your knuckles? Why are you shouting? "Fuck Rachel! I am so TIRED of everyone FUCKING with me!" He couldn't even say who 'everyone' was. It wasn't something factual, just a feeling. One toeing the line between rational and delusional.

[nprescott]

@strangebay said: ❛ this is how the world works . ❜ - Warren

"Whatever." The last thing Nathan had expected was for Warren to approach him after what had happened earlier. He had beat him up pretty badly - maybe he even deserved it. He had beat the shit out of Warren before. He hadn't exactly been nice to him either. He was destroying anyone that got in his path. Anyone he could get away with doing it to.

He hadn't locked his door, and when there was a knock he just told them to come in while he sat against the bookshelf full of his movies. Now, Nathan's cut up and bruised face looked a little more clean than when it first happened. It wasn't like it was the first time he was beaten like that. His father used to use him as a punching bag. Maybe that's why he couldn't even try to fight back.

And when Warren first spoke, Nathan was just glad it wasn't an apology. He didn't want to have to accept it. He didn't want to do anything. He knew things were hitting a boiling point and there was nothing he could do. Nathan had never been in control. Not of his life or his own mind. His father, Jefferson, and whatever the fuck was wrong with him always held the reigns.

"Probably made you feel fucking good, huh?" Nathan had a sinking feeling that this was the end. What was the point in being upset? In anything. He had hurt so many people only for him to end up here. Friendless, used, and fucking alone. What a pathetic piece of shit the so-called heir to the Prescott name was.

In truth, the lack of hostility and fury from Nathan was even a surprise to himself. His fire was out. His time was counting down. He didn't know how much longer he would last. He had become a liability. He was afraid but there was almost a sense of peace. Knowing he could finally stop struggling against the current. Knowing that he would most likely be murdered in a matter of hours. Even if he tried to save himself.... He would fail. He knew it. Because Jefferson was dangerous. And Nathan had a feeling he had killed people before, intentionally even.

"Well, savor it." At least someone will remember him with something remotely positive. Even if it was just the satisfaction of beating the fuck out of him.

And for a moment, Nathan gathers up the remnants of his strength. One final moment of defiance. But it wasn't directed at Warren or anyone undeserving this time. But at the one that ruined his already shitty life.

"Warren," He didn't even know if he had ever called him by his name before. Or if it had always been some kind of insult. God, he was so stupid. And what did all of this shit get him? "I know you're friends with Max. So you better watch out for her tonight." It wasn't a threat this time. Spoken with a sincere gentleness that was uncharacteristic of him.

He swallowed dryly. He knew it was probably going to end soon. And Nathan knew he would be remembered as a monster. He didn't know what Jefferson had planned for him, but he had a few ideas. Maybe he could do just one good thing in his entire life.

"I'm sorry for being a dick to you. And... everything else." It was hard to speak like this. Eyes resting upon open wounds and vulnerability he feared would be used against him. But... who cares? He was a dead man anyway, right? No one could help him. No one would believe him anyway. He had played right into Jefferson's hands. Used until there was nothing left. Molded into the perfect tool. He couldn't even feel bitter about it. All that was left was the cold and vacant numbness of acceptance.

"Please keep an eye on Max. She's annoying as fuck but... She doesn't deserve to get hurt, alright?"