Work Text:
The smell of death burned Nathaniel's nose. His wounds brought so much agony he felt nothing at all. His emotional agony had already burned out, smothered with the fire that disintegrated his mother's corpse. If he closed his eyes, he could still smell the smoke.
He stared at the ceiling of the basement of his childhood home, Lola's voice sounding underwater in the background. It was all too loud when she'd yelled his old nickname after spotting him on the roadside, puking as the realization Mary was gone hit him. She was the only person he had left, the only person who would miss him when he was gone. She was awful, but she was there. It was enough. It makes sense he couldn't keep even that.
He spent his childhood lonely.
He spent his teenage years running.
And he would die the same way he always felt: a lie no one ever discovered.
Lola kept rambling on, touching his burns and adding new slices. He let himself entertain the idea that maybe it was a gentle touch instead. He couldn't imagine such a touch, but Lola's work hurt less than the other things he'd been through, so he supposed that would have to be enough.
Lola's voice cut off. The end was walking down the stairs.
He closed his eyes. Smoke assaulted his senses. If he died first, would Mary have given up? Probably not. She wouldn't be stupid enough to let herself get tortured to death. If she were here, she'd be screaming for him to get up, dragging him by his hair until he did. But she wasn't. There was no one left who wanted him alive. No one who cared. No one who knew who he was. Not even he knew anymore.
Nathan's voice only sounded slightly different from his nightmares.
"Hello, Junior." There wasn't a point in responding. He had ran and ran and ran and still be caught. Even if he lived, where would he go? Lola took the stolen money and handed it off to her brother. She dragged him back to Mary's latest stolen car, reset it on fire, and threw everything he owned into it. He managed to get out of Jackson's grip and punch her. He should have run instead. Jackson ripped him back and knocked the breath out of him. Lola got her own retaliation by burning his face with a dashboard lighter on the way to Baltimore.
Nathan stepped closer, snapping Nathaniel out of his thoughts, his chilly eyes meeting identical ones.
"You make me look like a fool, help your mother run off with millions of dollars, make me chase after you for years, become a worthless, disobedient son, and you can't even offer me a simple hello?"
"Fuck off," Nathaniel replied, voice sounding as dead as he would be any second now. Nathaniel's stomach turned at the look sent his way. Fear. He stopped feeling fear once he watched the last of his things burn. One of his men handed Nathan his cleaver, and Nathaniel dodged out of the way just in time to not be hit but not fast enough to miss Lola's knife thrown into his side. Nathan had him pinned in a second, that signature sickening grin spread across his face.
"I'm going to cut you into pieces for the embarrassment you caused me. And you're going to let it happen if you don't want me to start by breaking every joint in your body. Lola, would you like to start?" Nathaniel couldn't see her, but he bet she had that sadistic look in her eyes. Fear turned to full fight. Yes he was alone. Yes no one would care if he died. Yes he was nothing and would always be nothing. But he didn't want to die like this! He struggled against Nathan's weight with everything he had. Nathan tolerated it until Nathaniel touched him. Only a light brush against his arm, but not light enough.
Shock spread through him, though he shouldn't have been surprised when his pinky ended up on the ground beside his head. He went to move his hand to look but was stopped by the cleaver in front of his eyes.
"Stay the fuck still or your eyes come next." Nathaniel dropped his hand, nearly flinching at the jolt of pain when it hit the floor. Who was he kidding? He may not want to die like this, but it was inevitable.
"You already killed Mom. Why can't that be enough?" Nathaniel muttered, not expecting an actual answer.
"I've never let anyone get away with making a fool out of me. I won't let you be the first. I've spent years planning how to kill you."
"He could kill for you," Lola chimed in. "Prove himself like he should have. It would be fun watching him fail." Her high pitched laugh rang in Nathaniel's ears. As did the sound of his father's agreement.