Chapter Text
Nathan wasn’t sure exactly where he had been, nor did he remember anything about the change people talked about. He was confused at first by the questions when he was found walking aimlessly through Battersea, blood dripping from wounds that looked as though he was attacked. There were so many people asking him who he was, and where he had been. He couldn’t tell them, whenever he searched for the answers he just found a void in his mind. So the team that had been quickly put together to help those severely affected by the change had taken him to where those with memory loss due to the isolation were.
Over time others in the facility were taken in by family or friends who noticed they were missing. Nathan continued to stay there, helping out as he could, and wondering if there was anyone coming for him. When the facility was set to be shut down because he was the only one remaining who hadn’t been found, some of the employees took pity on him and helped him find a place to stay. They also tried to help him find work as well, while he couldn’t remember his past he was shockingly smart.
“Nathan, you could work at the library.” Sally stated as she settled on the couch in the small apartment she and a few others had managed to find for the man. They felt bad for him, it had been a full year since the change had happened and no one had come forward knowing who he was. They thought that maybe he would be easy to name, the scars he had weren’t common. Or so they hadn’t before the change, now there were many roaming about with pockmarked skin from time spent in their own hells. Nathan had those, while having a few other particular scars. Sally was curious about them, light jagged line that stretched across his dark neck, the mottled skin that covered his right hand and a part of his wrist, the scars on his face that weren’t from insects. But there wasn’t really a way for any of them to get answers, and she had seen how much it frustrated the man in question. “There are a lot of people who come and go from libraries, maybe someone there would recognize you.”
“I appreciate your help Sally, but I think we can both agree the chances of that are entirely too slim.” Nathan tilted his head to look at the woman. She was one of a few that he had met shortly after his memory was lost. She had light blonde hair with soft green eyes. Something in him kept saying her eyes were the right color, and that voice was one that he had no idea what it was talking about. “I was at the facility for a year and no one came, it is likely that no one will. And this might be for the best anyway, I don’t remember anything from the change.” He gave the woman a tense smile, trying to lighten the mood.
“We both know that doesn’t mean anything. You’re still affected by whatever had happened to you.” Sally pointed out which caused Nathan to lower his head. He still felt guilt over having lashed out when someone had come behind him and thrown their arm over his shoulder. He had thrashed about, an arm colliding with the person’s nose as he tried to flee, and it had taken some time for him to calm from that.
“I guess.” He looked out the window and a tremor ran through him at the sight of the fog outside. “When should I go to the library?” He asked, a small smile pulling at his lips when he noticed how pleased it made Sally.
“If you’re okay with it, we can go now.” He nodded and pushed himself up from the couch to get ready to go.
Nathan walked along the stacks, pulling some from the shelves while putting others back in their places. It was a quiet job he had found, which was relaxing in a way. That’s how he ended up working there for several years, five if he was recalling correctly. It wasn’t a bad job, but there was some restless part of him that wouldn’t settle. He couldn’t figure out what that was, nor could he figure out why, and it had started to affect his sleep as well. He was having nightmares that haunted him well after he had woken. More often than not he would jolt awake unable to move more than the trembling of his body.
One of the books Nathan was getting ready to place on a shelf slipped from his grasp, his burned skin slick against the smooth cover. He let out a frustrated sigh, staring at the back of the book as though it could have decided to fall to the floor simply to inconvenience him.
“Oh, let me get that for you.” He started when a voice spoke up behind him. He turned to face the voice and saw a teen kneeling to pick up the book and hand it to him. “Here.” The boy said as he held out the book. Nathan took it with a slight nod.
“Ah, thank you.” He wanted to ask the man his name but quickly noticed that he was watching him quite closely. “Uh, i-is there something I can help you with?” He asked, stuttering slightly under the scrutiny. It was causing panic to start welling in his stomach, something about being studied.
“I’m not sure.” The man stated, tilting his head slightly. “You just seem familiar to me somehow.” The young man said before shrugging slightly.
“Oh, ah I’m sorry I won’t be of any assistance with that. I, uh, seem to have amnesia. So I can’t say that you are familiar to me.” Nathan spoke with a bit of a nervous laugh.
“I’m sorry” The young man spoke before turning away. “If I remember I’ll come find you.”
“Ah, thank you.” Nate watched the man walk away with a curious tilt of his head.
That night Nate woke in a cold sweat with the echoes of screams ringing in his ears. He scrambled to click on the bedside lamp with shaking hands. The nightmare, the contents already fading, still filled the man with a sharp terror. That the darkness in the room was going to somehow close in on him, that it would somehow draw him in. Nathan sat on the bed with the light on, heavily scarred hands grasping tightly to the blanket that had fallen to his lap. His gaze dropped to the blanket and something came to his mind, a sharp pain accompanying it. “The blanket never did anything,” he found himself saying before startling from that. He couldn’t recall that phrase from anywhere, or having heard it but there was a terror that seemed to saturate the sentence.
That was how a good few weeks went for the man, waking with the remnants of terror gripping him but no memories of why. Dark bags were beginning to make their home under his eyes, showing just how much it was affecting him. Anyone who asked was usually waved off with the explanation that it was just nightmares, because that was what it all was. He just couldn’t usually remember what the contents were, which made him wonder if they were something related to his past or not.
With a groan, Nate pushed himself up from the seat he had been occupying while going through the catalog for the library. Beside him was the cart of returns that had been logged and needed to be put back out, so the man grabbed the cart and started a slow trek into the stacks. He leaned heavily on the cart, using it in place of his cane since it was more troublesome to have his cane and also the cart with him. His thoughts wandered to his scars, there were few who had made it out of the whole change without any, but his were numerous. It was something that he had been endlessly curious about, more so considering the pain that remained with him from a few.
His right hand, loosely wrapped around the handle of the cart, was consumed by a gnarled burn. It restricted his use of the hand and numbed any feeling he had in the palm and most of the fingers. On particularly cold days he found that it would seize up, the joints becoming reluctant to move and he wondered if that was because of the burn itself or the other scars that surely laid beneath it. There were the pockmark scars that riddled him, climbing up his arms, legs, neck and even in places along his jaw and cheeks. When he was being looked over for any lasting issues from the change the doctor had told him that the small grouping over his right knee was the cause of his leg pain. The reason that he walked with a slight limp on the best of days.
The scar that had caused most to worry a bit more, Nathan included, was the raised scar across his throat. It was made with intention, everyone could see that much. It hadn’t healed cleanly, nor had it been a clean cut as far as they could surmise. Some sort of dull blade was the leading theory on it. Other scars he had were newer or explained by the change, although he was questioned a bit on if he was able to remember why it seemed that he had been caught by debris more than once.
Nate shook his head in an attempt to clear his thoughts, it was no use dwelling on things that were lost to him. He couldn’t remember them anyway, and he was feeling increasingly like he would never be able to remember them. He wasn’t sure if that bothered him too much or not, since he was never marked as missing he had to assume there wasn’t really anyone looking for him after the change. And that was a train of thought he would rather not go on, wondering about the whys. As he stopped the cart and picked up the book he needed to replace on the shelf a shrill sound startled him, causing the book to slip from his grasp and fall to the carpeted floor.
His ears started to ring as he looked frantically around, knowing something was after him and that he needed to get out. But he couldn’t find the others, and as he took a step to start looking he crumpled to the floor with a small cry. He could still hear the alarm ringing out and scrambled to try to get back up, a crawling feeling starting to grow more intense over his body the longer he was still. Then someone was in front of him, their hands held out which caused him to recoil. Scanning their hands he noticed they were free from something, whatever it was had been lost to him. Then he could vaguely make out that the person was saying something. Nate looked up and didn’t immediately recognize the person before him, then he could hear their voice.
“Nate, are you okay? What happened?” He tried to even out his breathing, looking around to notice that the stacks were fine and he was on the floor a small distance from the cart he had been using.
“What?” He asked, his throat feeling a bit dry as he tried to make sense of what had happened.
“Someone tripped the fire alarm but it was a false call. They got it turned off pretty quickly, but then I heard you shout. You didn’t seem to realize I was here. Are you okay?” Julie explained, offering the man a hand up.
“I…..don’t know. I heard the alarm and I needed to get out, I needed to find someone?” Nate accepted the help up, standing a bit shakily as Julie pulled the cart over. “There was crawling all over me.” He still felt as though he couldn’t calm down, as though there was something there still that wanted to hurt him.