"How has your first night been for you all?" Abigail sat with her leg crossed over the other as she studied everyone who sat in front of her in their respective seats around a circular table.
"Please don't tell me that you'll be our therapist," Salem said dryly as they leaned back in their seat. They were at the edge of the table, seated a little further away than the rest. Pickles was the closest to them, obscuring Nathan's eyes so he couldn't see what Salem's face looked like. They were the least excited to be here, surprisingly enough. Despite Salem previously seeming a lot more mature to handle this (generally speaking), now they just had their arms across their chest like a stubborn toddler (at least that's what it looked like). Nathalia even looked like she was embracing it a lot easier, but Nathan wouldn't trust her to handle it with genuine maturity. Those dark eyes were gleaming like she was plotting. She sat next to Toki, who was between her and Pickles.
"Is it a problem if I am?" Abigail raised her eyebrow.
"Aren't you supposed to be steering this fucking boat?" This was true because Abigail was one of the only ones technically allowed to steer Mordhaus. None of the Klokateers were given permission. Nathan was the other one allowed to drive Mordhaus as long as he followed the path set, but he couldn't because he was in 'rehab'.
Earlier, when they had officially set sail before the meeting started, just the jostle of putting Mordhaus into gear sent nearly everyone off their feet (except Bones). The fact that the citadel was supposedly driving at a quicker-than-average pace consistently was a terrifying concept. Let alone that the captain wasn't even watching where they were going.
Abigail pulled up from her lap, a screen panel with a bunch of dials and buttons on the front. Nathan supposed it had something to do with seeing where they were going and controlling it to a certain extent. "Solved. Any other issue?"
"You also already know too much, and I don't feel like letting my brain get picked at," Salem replied, "when it's irrelevant."
"Is it irrelevant, Salem?"
"Yep."
"I guess we'll see about that. Perhaps we should start with you, then?"
Salem seemed taken aback, snapping their head back slightly. "I'm good."
Nathalia snorted but otherwise didn't say anything. Everyone could tell that the friendship was falling apart, but Nathan couldn't judge that. Despite the amount of big talk from Nathalia, she couldn't hold a flame to her words at all - but chose to have a lot of empty words to say. Whereas Salem's stubbornness was both killing them and getting on multiple nerves. All they seemed to do was highlight the worst parts of each other. How did they last this long as friends?
Better yet, why did everything seem so fine for the two until... Murderface fell into the picture?
Even worse, Nathan couldn't judge because he was equally stubborn as Salem and as empty as Nathalia's words. He nearly ruined his friendship with Pickles for petty reasons and generally being uncommunicative. And also ruined his relationship with Charles through, well... multiple ways. Mostly stubbornness.
Nathan had tuned out of the conversation until he heard his name being called. He jerked to attention with surprise, noticing a few people had started staring at him. Pickles' head was craned to look at his best friend; he smiled awkwardly at the other when their eyes met. Skwisgaar, sitting next to him on the other side, was also turned to look at him.
Murderface, who was pretty much by himself on the far end opposite of Salem, was watching from the side of his eye though it was still noticeable to the brute singer. He noticed Nathalia purposely avoiding his stare, and Toki decided to drop his head and let his hair fall over his face. Like he was trying to hide from Nathan's searching gaze.
Abigail's sharp eyes were piercing through Nathan's head, and he couldn't help but straighten up, though he met her gaze unflinchingly.
"Huh?" He grunted, slightly annoyed that he was being stared at.
"You weren't listening to what we were saying, were you, Nathan?" Abigail sighed.
"Uhhhhhhhhh," was all Nathan could say.
"I said I want everyone to cooperate because I believe we can all agree that we're all sick of the drama. But especially when we all need to join forces to stop those trying to hurt you all and those who killed Charles."
Nathan's lips pursed as the nightmare of Charles' broken body filled his mind once more, and all he could muster was a grunt of acknowledgment. However, Abigail didn't seem willing to let up on him as she had with Salem, apparently (noted by the fact that they looked relieved to be left alone, their face now slightly in view).
"Maybe as the leader of Dethklok, you can go first?" Abigail questioned.
The pit inside of Nathan seemed to roar like a lion before it was quieted by the numbing sensation that crept through him. He hated this. At least when he repressed his emotions before, it was a choice. Was this how Charles felt? Was he also equally unable to control this desensitized coldness that seized his limbs like hypothermia? Did he also once feel as though he were at peace when drowning in all that was supposed to be painful toward him?
"What's there to say?" Nathan's voice sounded dull to his ears despite the gruffness. "Nothing."
"C'mon Nathan, what did I just say-"
"I heard you." Nathan stared into her eyes, eerily calm with the deadened sensation continuing to circulate through him. "Go bother someone else first, and then we'll talk."
"Why can't we talk now?" Abigail's searching gaze felt like she was pushing him under the water. "If there's not much to say, get it out now."
"You already know." Nathan's bitter tone reverberated through the room, making him feel self-conscious. "Don't have a bad past. Don't have a traumatic backstory. This is just the way I am. I don't, uh, drink to ignore shit."
"Hmm. Why don't we talk about one thing I know that does bug you, then?"
Here we go, she wants to talk about Charles, Nathan thought with a cold lump in his chest.
However, before Nathan could even say anything, Abigail said, "what about your emotions?"
Nathan choked a little on his saliva in surprise. "Uhh- huh?"
"You've always been pretty reserved, right? How about as a kid?"
"I mean, yeah, I guess, whatever," Nathan mumbled, staring hard at the woman in front of him. "What's your point?"
"What about your anger issues?"
"I don't have anger issues!"
"You tried throwing a ckouch yeschterday," Murderface spoke dryly.
"And it was bolted tew da floor because yew t'row shit a lot," Pickles pointed out.
"Whatever, shut up, both of you," Nathan growled. "So maybe I do have anger issues. Maybe as a kid, too. So what?"
"Have you ever thought that maybe you use alcohol to relax for once or that you use it to keep your anger under control?" Abigail pressed, and Nathan stiffened.
"Shouldn't you be the one that knows that?"
"Not if you don't talk to me. What do you expect when you drink?"
"To, uh, get drunk?"
"And?"
"That's it, get drunk and party. Have fun, I guess." Nathan shrugged; he was getting annoyed.
"But do you genuinely have fun when you drink?"
"More fun than this bullshit."
"What about as a kid? Did you drink when you were younger?"
"Probably?"
"Can you tell me why you felt the need to-"
"Oh my Gods, I don't know!" Nathan closed his eyes as his breathing became erratic from the irritation of these constant questions. "I was a goddamn kid who probably just wanted some fun, so why the fuck do I care what I thought back then?"
"Maybes she ams sayinks that you wasn'ts funs without the drinks," Skwisgaar drawled as he strummed his fingers along his guitar, and Nathan stared daggers at the blond. "To be fairs, you amenst very funs anymore. Stupids big baby dildoes."
"Skwisgaar, stop. We only support each other here," Abigail chastised.
"I ams," Skwisgaar argued. "I calls him big baby dildoes, he stops beings big baby dildoes."
Abigail sighed and decided to ignore the guitarist. "Were you always struggling with expressing yourself, Nathan?"
"Huh?"
"Your emotions. Did you always repress them, even as a kid?"
"I mean, it's pretty gay to show feelings." Nathan's eyes were trained on the floor, his face burning a little from the attention he was getting.
"So you've been training to repress yourself since you were a kid?"
"This is stupid. I hate this." Nathan stood up in preparation to leave, ignoring that everyone was staring at him now. "Nothing I did as a kid made me who I am today."
"That's a blatant lie, Nathan, for everyone," Abigail argued. Nathan just stalked off to the corner of the room to sit in one of the other unused chairs near the back. He refused to look at the others, opting instead to stare down at his tapping foot. "If you've always had a problem struggling with emotions-"
"Maybe I have, maybe not, it's none of your business."
"That would honestly be the lamest way to be repressed and emotionally stunted. Because you just 'grew up like that' because you thought it was gay." Nathalia spoke with such dismissive snarkiness that Nathan came rushing back in primitive, stumbling glory two seconds later with his nostrils flaring at her.
"I didn't ask for your bitch ass opinion."
Nathalia shrugged. "Everyone here pretty much has trauma except you. Even pig nose and pretty boy, but you're asking for sympathy from your story."
Murderface winced automatically at the sound of Nathalia's voice, not unnoticed by Nathan who could see from the corner of his eye. Skwisgaar looked proud. "Pretty boys?"
"Not a compliment from Nat," Salem muttered in a low whisper.
Nathan, meanwhile, was amazed by the audacity. "You're a fucking id, idiot. You're mad because I didn't say something edgy and traumatic enough?"
"I'm not a fucking idiot; I just happen to know pain better than you ever would," Nathalia sneered. "I know more pain than any of you." Her finger jabbed in everyone's direction with her hair whipping around in a maniacal fashion.
Salem snorted with laughter.
"Shut the fuck up, junkie," Nathalia spat.
"That's the most privileged shit I've ever fucking heard come from your mouth," Salem replied. "Your struggles don't invalidate other people's struggles. If you think it does, it's because you don't know enough about trauma to understand how little comparing it matters."
"I wasn't saying that! I was only saying it probably doesn't have a place here. Isn't that being competitive?"
"Yeah, what you said is invalidating his struggles and telling him they're not important enough to bring up." Salem rolled their eyes. "And you're always doing that shit. Being competitive then calling everyone else competitive."
"Whatever." Nathalia dropped back in her chair in annoyance. However, a fire had started under Nathan as he loomed over her. He didn't give a shit about her and Salem's beef right now. He had his own itch that needed scratching the second the two stopped whining.
"What made you think I even wanted symphony?" Nathan growled. Nathalia smirked. "Sym- symph- pathy. I'm not a goddamn bitchy emo like you. You call yourself metal and brutal but all you do is fucking whine and ask everyone why they haven't noticed you being pat- pathetic yet."
"Alright, that's enough," Abigail spoke up, finally. She moved around the table quickly to stand between the two once Nathalia had clambered onto her feet, blocking them from getting closer to each other. That was fine with Nathan. He didn't want her anywhere near him.
"A fucking emo huh, but your friend almost killed himself, and he's not?" Nathalia screeched, her voice high-pitched with venom and anger, her eyes wild with something wicked and unexplainable that almost seemed to make Nathan feel sick. This didn't feel like the Nathalia that he had first met. She had gone from excitedly bragging and trying to act cool to now making an ass of herself in front of everyone, only to cry and play the victim about it. Yet, this version of Nathalia seemed the most... 'real' version of her. No playing up on her actions to sound cool or badass. There was no trying to be subtle in the most obvious ways possible. Here, Nathan could actually see a person who had as many self-loathing, crybaby, victimizing tendencies as Murderface had. Someone who started shit but couldn't finish it. Someone who never knew when to stop when they were already running the opposite way on a racetrack.
"All you've done lately is fucking complain," Nathan snarled. "You fucking complain about Murderface always being annoying and causing problems, but you don't do anything 'xcept start shit ever since he and Salem did whatever-the-fuck. Or you've gotten pissed at every single one of us for just tolater- tolet- dealing with his stupid shit, but you can't even follow your own, uh, advice, and leave him alone. You straight up fucked him, or whatever; tried to. At this point, I think you're just jealous he liked Salem before you."
"Fucking gross. I've always hated that ugly pig-nosed piece of shit, even when I watched you guys play on T.V. before we became a band ourselves," Nathalia hissed.
"Then what's your reason for fucking someone you find disgusting?" Nathan spat.
"It's none of your fucking business."
"No, no," Salem spoke up as they leaned back in their chair with one thin leg folded over the other, staring at Nathalia even as she whipped around to glare at the other. "Tell us your super-duper superior, dark backstory that causes you to be a two-faced bitch. I'd love to know. Since apparently, it's all a competition anyway."
"Fuck off; I wasn't talking to you."
"Nobody hardly talks to you anymore. But you can't help but interject your opinion when it matters the least in every fucking situation, like telling Nathan his shit doesn't matter," Salem pointed out with pure disgust and contempt on their face. "So shut the fuck up or give us an actual reason. Genuinely talk about your shit for once."
"Oh, you soooo badly want to know my shit, guys? How about you ask Salem about them being a murderer? Specifically a murderer to their family?"
"Talk about your own fucked up family," Salem snorted. "At this point, you're embarrassing yourself with all talk and no show. And continuing to use my family's shit against me to make me look bad when you know enough of the reason why is fucking gross. That'd be like if I laughed and said 'haha guys look, Nat's mom killed her dad!' That's stupid."
"You know what, I feel a lot better about my problems now," Nathan stated with a grunt, sitting back in the chair at the table with his arms crossed over his chest. Not that he had many problems, to begin with. It was just that listening to these two talk about their pasts even vaguely for two seconds gave him whiplash.
"Like the one about your dead boyfriend?" Nathalia spat, and Nathan's blood ran cold for a single second; then was replaced with hot fury as his eyesight went red from rage.
Abigail didn't give a warning or even wait for Nathan to react. She grasped Nathalia around the shoulder in a steely grip, dragging her out of the room without another word. As the loud doors clicked behind the two, someone else slipped in immediately after. It was that weird guy, Bones. Had he been listening in, waiting for a chance to walk in at any point?
Nathan didn't want to sit around, waiting to see what this guy had to say, so Nathan got back up from his chair a little aggressively. He didn't want to be around anybody, in fact. There was a certain pain slowly creeping through him and seizing his chest that he couldn't bear, and if he didn't leave right this second he was sure he would start throwing someone at someone else to relieve that hurt. The chair toppled over, causing a loud, screeching metallic crash that made everyone turn to look at him. He stalked to the door, ignoring the stare of the man's golden eyes, and slammed his hand into them to shove them open, his arm brushing against Bones as he did so.
His head shot with a white-hot pain that temporarily blinded him. Nathan felt momentarily suspended in nothingness, not even having any air to breathe as he gasped through the pain; it hurt almost worse than the pain in his chest of losing Charles. He felt both like he was falling and floating at the same time.
A familiar voice whispered in his ear with a chilled tone, "It mimics a friend who died long ago, traitorous envy as it feeds on your love... It drains the life out of all of you. Do not fall for Its curse. To win this war, you must join arms even as It tries to tear you all apart..."
How? If it 'eats' our love, how can we ever find even ground without hating each other? Nathan thought, even as he was desperately gasping for the oxygen that wasn't there. Tell me how to get rid of a traitor!
"You cannot be rid of It right now. You can only weaken It. Banishing It will fuel it. Prevailing will destroy It."
Damnit, tell me the things I need to know directly!
"When you need to know of The Mimic, follow the sun and moon's directions. And look to meet death-seeking eyes."
Fuck. Nathan balled his hands into fists- or at least attempted to, even though his sensations were so dulled that he couldn't feel himself do it. He was self-aware enough to know the last thing he did was accidentally touch Bones and the way he seemed to look at Nathan with a certain mysterious ambience right before... whatever this was, happened.
What's up with that fucking weirdo? What exactly is he?
"Your ally," the voice stated matter-of-factly. "However, if he does not play his cards right, he could jeopardize the prophecy further by mistake."
What the hell do you mean by that?
"It is my fault, I am sorry."
Before Nathan could further this conversation, he could feel himself falling back into the consciousness of the real world. The last thing he heard was, "These are your last chances to fight in this war... make it count."
Fuck!
Nathan found himself on the ground, head sore and throbbing. Faces loomed above him with worry plastered all over their features.
"Dank feck," Pickles sighed when he saw Nathan's eyes flutter open.
The two stared at each other for a moment. Nathan recalled when he had gone into Pickles' hospital room the other day. No words hardly said, just Nathan gruffly reaching to place a heavy hand on Pickles' shoulder, saying, 'Glad you're okay'. Now he just felt physically ill when staring at Pickles- or any of them- but he wasn't sure why. He just felt like something terrible was going to happen to them all at any moment.
"Shit." Nathan slowly sat up with the help of Pickles' hands on one of his shoulders. Salem was watching beside Pickles with tenseness in their shoulders, even when seeing that Nathan was fine. Skwisgaar helped Nathan from the other side, then whacked him on the back of the head when he managed to sit up properly.
"Ow! What was that for?!" Nathan glared with no malice at the guitarist.
Skwisgaar shrugged. "You ams dildoes for fallinks like thats. Makings me thinks you dieds."
Nathan grunted a little, pulling himself to his feet. His eyes caught Murderface's, who was watching cautiously from his seat. He looked neither happy nor upset to be looking at Nathan. He only turned his head back to the table to stare at his fingers drumming nervously. Toki's hair was still blanketed over his face, presumably in his own world as far as Nathan knew.
Without saying anything, Nathan turned back around and pushed open the door once again but paused momentarily. "Where's the freak? Bones?"
"I told him ta go get Abigail. Yew were only out f'r a second," Pickles explained, "but didn' know if..."
Speaking of, as Pickles was talking, footsteps were clicking through the halls to interrupt the conversation. Nathan swiveled his head around to see Abigail, Bones, and Nathalia all returning, Abigail in the lead.
"Nathan, are you alright?"
"Er, yeah," Nathan said, realizing he wasn't even sure why he had collapsed in the first place. All he remembered was opening the door, seeing Bones enter, and then blacking out.
Abigail looked slightly relieved to see him doing fine. "Good. Bones told me you fainted."
"Yeah, I guess." Nathan nodded curtly to Bones in thanks for getting help. Bones' eyes flashed in acknowledgment with a grim smile on his lips. Something about his expression didn't seem right to Nathan, but he wasn't sure why.
"You might want to sit down in case another fainting spell happens," Abigail advised, to which Nathan nodded. He sat in the chair nearest to him by the door, watching as the three filed through the room again. Nathalia brought up the rear with red-rimmed eyes and a sore-looking nose.
Just looking at Nathalia pissed Nathan off now. The fact she even felt she had a right to speak about Charles dying to mock him made him want to punch her lights out. And as far as he was concerned, his fists were rated E for Everyone.
How could someone go from so bubbly and excitable to such a raging bitch so fast? Nathan could muse all day about it being Murderface with Salem or the call from her siblings on her birthday, but realistically Nathan realized with a start that she always had an apathetic streak.
Such as being annoyed by Tobias having a seizure while she was busy. Or how she decided to spill out everyone's secrets to each other and then got pissed that everyone else got pissed. The way she bawled about Charles' death, it didn't even sound like she was sad he was killed, just upset that she left a poor impression. Hell, keeping Tobias' mail from him was pretty shitty, too. Maybe all that baby talk or humorous jabs toward everyone was just her enjoying the sound of her own voice.
Nathan didn't know any of The Excommunicated band members in-depth, but it felt like it had always been about Nathalia from the start. He knew he wasn't the smartest, but he was aware from his own experience that this wasn't her first time saying something weird, and he saw from a couple of instances how many times it was shrugged off before people realized she was doing a little too much. But it might have been the first time she was consistently in trouble for it.
It was like she thought she was the main character, and she was doing everything she could to have the spotlight.
It wasn't too far from how Skwisgaar viewed life as his spotlight, except Skwisgaar didn't go around having sex with people he found repulsive (while making fun of anyone who even breathed near those people) and hardly ever tried to make himself the victim whenever he went too far. He was a dick to people while knowing he was a dick, but at least he was realistic about it. Maybe he would defend himself every so often, but not as to pretend he was a pathetic worm who couldn't control himself or to accuse people of ganging up on him for no reason.
Honestly, how pathetic could one be for constantly doing this shit on purpose, then resorting to crying and acting like it was everyone else? And why did everyone, including himself, continue to feed it? Nathan's partner actually died, and everyone was more worried about whatever stupid shit Nathalia was saying to piss off everyone else. Nathan was shoved to the back burner (which was fine, he could manage, but still). Nathalia brought up her family's issues to gain sympathy after trying to drown them, but where was that energy when she had the chance to shine? With every opportunity, she blew it by resorting to talking about everyone else's problems. If it wasn't other people's problems, it was a different kind of drama that she had an issue with. For a while, it even felt like Pickles nearly dying was overshadowed by the fact that she was harassing Murderface so vehemently, or causing fights left and right.
As Abigail sat back in her chair and Nathalia in hers, Bones found it appropriate to pull a chair up to the table and sit with them, conveniently next to Murderface. Murderface merely turned his head away and pursed his lips like he was trying to avoid saying anything. It was weird that Bones had a strange, flirtatious connection with the guy, but it wasn't the weirdest thing to happen around Murderface.
"If I'm doing this, I don't want that fucker in here with us," Nathalia snarled stubbornly as she nodded her head toward Bones. "I don't know him."
"Unfortunately, I need him here for unspoken reasons," Abigail said sharply. Nathan raised an eyebrow as he darted his eyes between the manager and Bones, who looked calm when he was mentioned. There was definitely something she wasn't telling them, but he knew she'd never explain it to them. At least not at the moment. Or maybe he didn't care right now.
"Whatever, probably to make the dog over there happy," Nathalia mumbled low enough that only Nathan and Toki seemed to hear. For the first time in a while, Toki lifted his head slightly to peer over at her with troubled eyes. This caused his and Nathan's eyes to meet for just a second. Toki snapped his head back down in response, and Nathan frowned. Okay, so the kid had a crush on him. Nathan wasn't beating his ass for it, right? So why did he act like such a wounded puppy?
Speaking of crush, now that it was explained to him it made a bit more sense as to how Toki acted around him, but all Nathan felt was numbness traveling like a snake down his spine to coil around his heart.
Abigail sighed. "I'm not doing this to force you to dump your past out to others for sympathy," she explained carefully. "I'm doing this because there's a reason there's an overconsumption of alcohol between several of you. And if perhaps you take this time to actually share the reasons why then it might help everyone understand each other better, and then there won't be as much fighting. Maybe not everyone needs to discuss why they drink or how they started, so that's on me. But every person in this room has some baggage that does need to be discussed. On top of the discussion, everyone here does intake alcohol and drugs excessively; aside from myself and possibly Bones. If we can discuss this baggage, and the excessiveness, maybe there will be a connection; maybe there won't be. It's my fault for trying to press too hard in one direction. From now on, let's try to keep the flow the way you guys know how to. Okay? Therapy first, work on the coping skills later."
"I can work wit' dat," Pickles agreed.
Skwisgaar and Toki both said "Ja," in unison.
Nathan grunted an affirmative.
Salem shrugged.
Nathalia only scowled.
Murderface didn't react at all.
"And you somehow come to this conclusion after a conversation with that one?" Bones mused with a nod toward Nathalia. She gave him a disgusted look in response.
"No, actually," Abigail spoke, her sharp eyes piercing into Bones' face. "It was someone else."
Nathan was confused for a second until the door slowly popped open. Tobias' head came peeking around the corner, looking slightly nervous. Oh of course, it was that know-it-all bastard. Still, Nathan didn't have much of a problem with the guy.
"Ah, the bearded guy wasn't around when I showed up," Bones commented after he turned to see Tobias slowly walk in.
Tobias blinked over at the stranger, saying, "I went to do something real quick. However, Abigail asked me to help with the situation, so here I am."
"Thank you." Abigail looked slightly relieved.
"First of all," Tobias started, as he took a seat between Toki and Pickles, "Nobody interrupts when someone's talking anymore. That includes all of you."
"Hmph," Nathalia sniffed.
"No competition. No, 'that's stupid.' If we're here to be better people, or to do better for ourselves, why would any of you waste this opportunity unless you want to be this miserable for the rest of your lives?"
Skwisgaar scoffed. "Ams not miserable."
"You're egotistical which is still a big problem," Tobias shrugged. "And not the first time someone has overcompensated due to their pain by inflating their ego."
Skwisgaar scowled and Nathan had an inkling that it was because he didn't understand because he also didn't understand what the Hell Tobias was saying. Even Nathalia's face went blank momentarily while she tried to process the words.
Nathan drowned out some more of the conversation for a while. He wasn't particularly consumed by his thoughts or anything, he only more or less didn't want to listen anymore. Instead, he was stopping to tap his fingers together or stare moodily at the wall behind Abigail, the nothingness in his head swallowing him whole. He only tuned back in when Abigail sighed and said finally, "Alright, we can come back tomorrow and try again, then. You guys can't keep hiding your problems though. These are things you guys have to work through sooner or later. Does anybody want to actually try going first, tomorrow?"
Nathan raised a brow in surprise when Toki's hand came up slowly, almost unsurely. Abigail nodded to him in acknowledgment. "Alright then, thank you."
With that, Abigail dismissed them to do whatever they want. Nathan stood up immediately in preparation to leave before Pickles called him over.
"Hey," Pickles greeted when Nathan hesitantly stalked over. The brute singer didn't really want to talk right now, but seeing Pickles awake, alive, and healing; stirred something inside Nathan that he could only guess was relief. Or protectiveness? Either way, he didn't feel right to ignore his best friend.
Nathan grunted once close enough to Pickles for him to hear the throaty growl. Pickle's eyes, once burdened by permanent-looking dark shadows, looked brighter than they had been in a long time.
"Yew doin' okie?" Pickles asked softly, and Nathan nodded curtly. His head was still spinning a little from the fall, but he felt fine otherwise.
Salem was still in their chair, typing something almost aggressively on their phone. When Nathan looked over questioningly, Pickles followed his eyes and then pursed his lips in a tight smile. "Dey've been rantin' to demself on 'n' off for aboot an hour."
"Nathalia..?"
"Not sure." Pickles shrugged but gave Nathan a knowing look. Most likely, yes.
Nathan just sighed and turned to leave after the pleasantries were out of the way when Pickles stopped him with a soft hand on his shoulder. When he turned back, there was an indescribable look on his face.
"Yew sure yer okie?"
"Yeah, don't worry about me." Why did it sound like his voice cracked under his deep, guttural rumble?
"I know yew been t'rough a lot, 'n' I know I've been deep in my shit... but 'm here for ya, okie?"
"You don't have to act any different toward me just because of this," was Nathan's reply.
"I know."
Salem finally looked up from their phone and seemed to zone into reality after a few seconds of blank staring. Their eyes darted between Pickles and Nathan awkwardly, so Nathan just nodded goodbye to the both of them and started heading toward the door.
Almost everyone was gone except for the three of them, Skwisgaar, and Abigail. He ignored her attempts at flagging him down.
Skwisgaar was at the doors with his hand just barely pressed against it to crack it open, obviously peeking out to spy on someone. Nathan carelessly brushed past him and popped the doors open the rest of the way. He just barely caught Nathalia and Toki kissing before they practically jumped apart like school kids, faces flushed and breathless. Nathan ignored them and walked past. He didn't care the way Toki's eyes cast down almost shamefully; he had no intentions of giving a shit what the rhythm guitarist did with whoever. And he especially didn't care about the smug look Nathalia was giving him- like she had won a fight for Toki's affection. He didn't want it. He didn't want anybody.
The only person Nathan wanted, ever truly wanted, was dead. And Nathalia, supposed queen of understanding trauma and anguish, was rubbing it in his fucking face.
As Nathan dropped onto his bed, teeth grinding with hidden anguish deep inside of his core, he came to the conclusion: if he had a choice to sacrifice every single person inside Mordhaus, for a chance to see Charles again, he just might.
...
Lights danced in front of Nathan's eyes. Skeletal figures swarmed him, faceless corpses grinding bones as they stumbled past him in droves. The sun was much too hot, but the relief of gentle, lapping waves behind him kept him from completely succumbing to the pain. His eyes strained as images flashed across his vision, and he became momentarily blind.
In his head, memories that were not his consumed him. A redhead standing in front of a mirror of a million other children. A curly-haired man crouched to the ground, with an abnormally tall creature gently reaching for his hand. The dead, moaning somewhere within the darkness. What looked to be a dead, overgrown flower, held in the hands of a person. Lightning, traveling through the arms of a blond while the animals cowered behind him like it was nothing; he could almost feel the tingling sensation himself. The scene of a cavern overlooking the sea in front of it, a tall woman watching the waves from the entrance. A man looking up to the stars, and the moon, in patterns that only he could probably understand.
"It is almost time. But do you think they are ready?"
Pickles was the first to turn to Nathan, and Nathan realized that these were not just memories, but almost like separate realities connecting together in hazy fragments. Pickles slipped next to his best friend, and reached to take the other's hand. Nathan, for once, found this comforting.
"Do you know who's speaking to us?" Pickles asked quietly.
"...A guide."
Salem slipped from the memory into his reality through the flickering transition, flower perched brand new around their shoulders as it seemed to snap its head back and forth. Right behind them, Skwisgaar. They went to stand beside Pickles on the other side but both nodded to Nathan.
Toki slipped from the darkness of the cavern for the dead, and surprisingly enough placed himself on Nathan's other side. There was an odd look on Skwisgaar's face but he kept looking straight ahead, jaw set almost stubbornly. Nathan wished he could sigh without breaking the unity.
Tobias was much slower than the others, his sightless eyes staring blankly ahead of him as he went to stand next to Toki.
Murderface was being led by what Nathan could only presume was some distorted, demonic version of Bones. Nathan couldn't hold his gaze, so he just nodded curtly and averted his eyes. Murderface was hesitant like he wasn't sure where to go, so Nathan nodded toward an empty spot next to Tobias. The two settled next to him.
And finally, Nathalia came in with her head raised high, standing between Nathan and Toki much to Toki's subtle discomfort. At first, Nathan refused to even acknowledge her, but her soft voice broke through his concentration.
"I'm sorry."
Nathan grunted a response; she wasn't forgiven so easily. But maybe if she started cooperating better; with time.
Nathan felt something chill his bones, and the voice seemed to be speaking from inside of him. What the hell was this?
"Forgive me," the Water Beast's voice spoke clearly as though She were in front of them all, though seemed to have directed Her first words at Nathan. "But there's not much time left, and I am able to directly speak to the others through you, now."
"I remember your voice," Pickles spoke quietly. His hand tightened around Nathan's.
"Yes, you and Nathan have a certain intertwined bond,"
"Gross, that's gay," Nathan growled with no real malice.
"-I went to communicate with him, and somehow reached you. I chose the imagery I thought would suit you best, One with the Third Eye."
"Ye can just call me Pickles." Pickles smiled, but his eyes seemed a little tight. Trying to force the genuineness, even though his palms started sweating and he was obviously not happy with the imagery she was speaking of.
"Do you think they are ready?" She repeated to Nathan.
"Ask them yourself, since you can," Nathan grunted.
"I would like to know how well you know your team."
'Team'? That was an odd choice of words.
Nathan blinked as he looked between them all. Salem's eyes betrayed bitterness; Pickles and Toki- sadness. Skwisgaar, Nathalia, and even Tobias- contempt. Murderface- fear.
"I think we need just a little more time," Nathan stated.
"You're running out of time," She warned.
"Yeah, so you've mentioned."
"You approach the place where it all began... and begins again." As she spoke, Nathan vaguely noticed through dust and sand a silhouette of something huge, what it was he couldn't tell.
"Well, is there any way you can buy us more time?" Nathan said dryly. "I'm only one guy, I can't really do much."
She seemed to sigh in a throaty hum. "There is only one thing I can do."
With those words, their reality seemed to shatter, and it felt like the ground was caving in under their feet. His vision snapped like glass and shards went flying in all directions. The only thing he could feel was the hand of Pickles squeezing him in a death grip, but he could hear everyone screaming or shouting with surprise.
"Something is breaking the connection," Her voice seemed to fade along with Nathan's sight. Nathan recalled the traitor issue of earlier while fading from this world, and vaguely wondered why She hadn't brought it up again. But of course, if Nathan had an enemy, he wouldn't want them to know he was onto them, either.
"Nate." Pickles' voice sounded frightened, and far away. Nathan swallowed heavily.
"Yeah. I know. Don't worry."
Nathan recalled what he thought earlier before falling asleep. The daydreams of sacrificing whatever it took to bring back the one he loved the most. He could practically taste the lips of Charles once more if he thought hard enough about him, about what he was willing to throw away for one more touch. And he chose to push him to the back of his mind.
Charles was gone, and yes, it did hurt. However, he would do everything he could to protect the rest of them. The only ultimatum was to survive this Hell they had fallen into.
...
Nathan felt himself become jarred awake as he was thrown off of his bed by the violent jerking of Mordhaus. He knocked into the wall nearest to him, grunting in annoyance. The mattress had even slid about a foot across the floor.
Unintelligible shouting could be heard through the walls, signifying that practically everyone else had been thrown as well. Once the citadel seemed to have stopped moving, Nathan pulled himself up slowly, his head throbbing a little from the impact of the wall.
As he opened the door, he noticed several others walking out with dazed expressions. Even Bones looked a little shaken up by the jerk, but his eyes continued to gleam with that weird mischievous look. When Pickles' red hair could be seen through the bodies that started filling the hall, Nathan pushed through the others to check on him.
He was definitely in pain, but otherwise seemed fine- there was no blood from what Nathan could see. Pickles could see Nathan visibly relax at seeing the drummer okay and gave him a crooked smile.
"'M good, Nate."
"I'm glad."
Pickles seemed surprised by Nathan's open relief, but Nathan had no time to acknowledge the shock.
Abigail came bursting through the doors, seeing everyone gathering in the hall in disorientation.
"Everyone okay?!" She demanded as her heels clicked through the hall.
"What the fuck happened?" Nathalia groaned, a spot of blood on the side of her head. Abigail examined her wound carefully, then nodded and continued to check on the others. Nathan just shook his head and waved her away to check someone else when she drew closer to him.
"There's, well... Just come with me to see."
Once she had confirmed with everyone that they were okay, she led the way into the meeting room. In the back was a shatterproof window that they all had to crowd around just to see what was going on outside.
Nathan's eyes grew wide with bafflement as he saw what they had to stop for. There were dozens- no, a hundred at least- of gigantic whales splashing as they surrounded Mordhaus to pass by.