A/N: Surprise!
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Nathan Prescott used to be a rich, rich man.
He had anything he could ever want, fame, money, girls, power. (Both Economically, and Socially) He had anything anyone could ever ask for.
Or, that's what everyone thought, anyway.
What lied beneath all the fame, and money, and drugs, was a broken soul. Someone burdened by the lack of love, the lack of compassion from the ones he valued the most. His father was a tyrant and a bastard, his mother and sister were both MIA, He only had himself to rely on.
And as Nathan Prescott sat in a rotten smelling bus on the way to Seattle, he found himself looking back on his life, and how everything fell apart.
It all started months ago, when Nathan became a student to Mark Jefferson.
He felt some sort of connection to Mark, and Mark was close to him, the two were instant partners. Nathan loved photography, and Mark Jefferson could teach him everything he wanted to know about taking pictures, so a friendship formed.
Then that friendship turned into a father son relationship. Nathan finally had a proper father figure in his life, no longer was he worried about not being loved, because he knew that Mark Jefferson loved him.
Or so he thought.
The father son relationship that Nathan was seeing was nothing more than a lie, fiction that was fabricated from Nathan's mind in a desperate attempt to hope that it was reality. When Nathan was introduced to Jefferson's 'work' he was sucked down into a life he never wanted. He started business with Frank Bowers, using the money his father tosses his way to buy drugs, to then give to Mark Jefferson, who used them for unspeakable things.
In the beginning, Nathan was opposed to Jefferson's actions, the things he was doing to Blackwell students. But eventually... after so long... he didn't mind it, he even asked Jefferson to have a bigger role in it one day.
Back then, he thought his desire to help Jefferson was from raw passion for the man's work. But now he knew that he was blinded by loyalty, blinded by love that was never even there. All Nathan wanted was someone to be proud of him, someone to impress. And Mark Jefferson just happened to be there.
Nathan never really caught on to the fact that he was being used until shortly before the storm. It was before Max Caulfield and her curiosity that led her to a dead end, it was before Kate Marsh. (though that wasn't pleasant) It was the day Rachel Amber died.
He didn't do it, he didn't kill her. It was an accident, he told himself. He accidentally used to much drug, and overdosed her into the grave. But did he really? Nathan's memory from that night was fuzzy, he had been drunk, and a little high. Then next thing he knew, Mark had to bury the body.
When Nathan had asked what happened, Mark told him that it was all Nathan's fault, and he shouldn't have been that close with Rachel. But it wasn't Nathan's fault that he fell in love with Rachel, everyone fell in love with her.
It was after that day, Nathan had started to figure out the truth, Mark Jefferson's hold on Nathan was starting to weaken, until it broke. It was the night of the party, the Vortex Club party. Nathan had broken a rule, he tried to warn Victoria of her impending death. He was stuck between loyalties, but his to Mark was breaking by the time the man chose Nathan's best friend to murder.
Jefferson caught him fast, breaking Nathan's ties with Victoria, and calling the boy a traitor. Nathan had so little time to send out his distress signal to Max Caulfield before Jefferson killed him. But he never really died
It turns out you can survive a shot to the jaw. Just play dead when the bullet lands, and while getting buried in the Junkyard, not that far away from where Rachel Amber's body was. Nathan almost felt disappointed in Jefferson, this man had been doing stuff like that for years, yet he did such a sloppy job on Nathan, he forgot to finish the job. Probably because he was pressed for time to get to the Vortex party, but Nathan didn't bother asking questions, he was alive, that's all that mattered.
He barely had any time to seek medical help before the storm blew in, and destroyed the very town he had lived in for so long. Nathan couldn't call it home, Arcadia was never his home, but it served as a shelter for so long. After the storm blew through, Nathan had a choice. He could stay in the broken town, or he could venture off into the world alone. He chose the town.
Not for any particular reason. He had no idea whether his father was alive or dead, even 4 years after the storm. He stayed because there was nowhere else to go. It's not like he loved the town, and wanted to help rebuild it (quite the opposite, actually) but because it was the only place he had known for most of his life.
Nathan stayed in Arcadia Bay for 4 years, trying to rebuild the life he had torn apart. And it was working, Nathan started to feel at peace with himself after some time, all of his threats, his fears, all gone like the town. As the town was rebuilt, so was he.
Until one week ago.
One week ago, Nathan Prescott decided to do his work in peace. He went up to the cliff so he could work on his laptop in silence. But once he got there, he found a journal, buried under dirt and stone. The journal belonged to Max Caulfield.
Nathan was shocked to find this journal, all the dates read 4 years ago, the week of the storm. He was surprised it hadn't been destroyed, or discovered by another traveler. But with the contests of this journal, he would believe anything.
Caulfield's writing consisted of time travel stories and unraveling the mystery of Rachel Amber. It sounded like a kid's book, Nathan almost just threw it away. But he just couldn't. There was something about the journal that was enticing, it even predicted the storm itself. Nathan couldn't just throw it away. It was special.
Due to the boredom, the anger, the loneliness that Nathan was feeling after spending the past 4 years in that stupid rebuilding town, Nathan decided it was time to get out into the world, and confront Max Caulfield about this journal. After some quick tracking, Nathan found her location, bought a bus ticket to Seattle, and found himself sitting in the seat he was now.
Public transportation was the only way there, as Nathan's truck was old and there was no way he could drive it that far without the whole thing collapsing in defeat. Nathan loathed the bus, it was smelly, and he had to sit with other people that were most likely staring. Being in his truck was comfortable, it was isolated and silent, just how he liked being.
Grabbing the worn journal from his bag, Nathan sifted through the dirt covered pages again. He was still confused that the journal was in good condition, that he could see the words. But it must be like that for a reason, and Nathan had to find out why.
He continued to survey the journal until he reached the Seattle city limits.
YOU ARE READING
Hellions of Arcadia
Fanfiction"If you died, would anyone care? Would they really care? Maybe, they'd cry for a day. But let's be honest, no one would give a shit, they wouldn't. That's who you are. That's what you are. You're nothing to no one." A continuation of the Sacrifice A...
