Work Text:
Nathan hated the rain. He was not really sure why. Maybe it was because he thought it made everything look and feel so miserable. Maybe it was some part of his shitty childhood he barely remembers. He didn't like to think about it much. He didn't like to think about things that had happened to him; it made him feel he was trapped in his own thoughts, his own mind.
Even the community centre looked more depressing than usual, which was saying something. The concrete was slick and dark, and the sky was the color of dishwater. Everyone was already in a shit mood and it was pretty late at night—Nathan wasn't sure the exact time, but he knew it was past midnight.
They were chasing some lunatic with a power because, apparently, instead of normal teenage problems like school or jobs, that was what their lives were now.
Nathan was halfway through calling the guy a “knockoff X-Men reject” when things went to shit. He didn't remember what happened. He never does, just bits and pieces. His most prominent memory was always the sounds and the pain—you can't forget the pain: the sound of glass breaking, somebody shouting, and the shark crack of impact. Then a lot of pain that sorta swallowed everything else and made any sort of thinking impossible. The kind of pain centred the whole world into one bright white point of agony. After that, nothing. There was never a tunnel of light or heavenly choir like the movies—that part really disappointed him. Death was just nothing until he woke up again.
No matter how many deaths had come before it, or how many times he had gotten back up, there was always a moment where panic took over. A moment where he thought, this is it, this one counts.
Then, eventually, he had air and life again. And a fuck load of pain. Nathan bolted upright with a choking gasp. Rainwater soaked through his shirt. His curls flattened with the weight of the rain. His head felt like he had just had it cracked open with a hammer—which might've happened, honestly. For a moment, he didn't know where he was. Then, instantaneously, everything came back to him: the fight, the power, the impact, the dying. Nathan groaned.
“Fan-fucking-tastic.” His voice sounded rough. Nobody responded, though. Nathan blinked, looked around: empty. The alley he lived in was completely deserted. Rain tapped softly against the dumpster beside him. The headlights from a car shone in his eyes as a car passed. He watched as the tires splashed a puddle of rainwater onto the sidewalk.
“Hello?” Nothing. “Hello?”
He stood up slowly, and every muscle ached. He knew the others hadn't abandoned him—of course they hadn't. There'd be a perfectly reasonable explanation. The fight was over, and they knew, they assumed, he'd get back up. He knew he'd get back up, so why did it bother him so much?
He remembered hearing the screaming after he was impaled on that fence—the first time he died. He remembered Kelly yelling and crying. By the time he'd gotten back to his humble abode—the community centre—his jeans were completely soaked through, and his trainers squelched with every step.
The others were there. It was early morning already. Simon sat quietly while the others were chatting it up. Nobody even looked at him when he entered, not immediately anyway. That stupid delay, that hesitation, made his stupid chest ache.
“Is sleeping beauty finally awake?” Kelly said, the first one to glance over.
Nathan’s jacket plopped to the floor with a gross wet sound.
“Thanks for all the help last night, yeah?” joked Curtis.
Nathan hesitated. He was the only one not laughing. “Are you lot joking?”
That got most of their attention. Well, only Simon’s and Kelly’s, if he was being honest.
“What the hell are you on about?” Kelly asked, like his words were just an annoying buzz in her ear.
Nathan spread his arms dramatically.
“I was dead, y’know.”
Curtis didn't even pay attention to his words. Alisha sat on her phone.
“You were dead for, like, a few hours.”
“Maybe four.”
Nathan stared.
“Are you mad that we left you there?” Kelly said.
“First of all, quit reading my thoughts, you mind-raping twat… and, I mean, a little bit, yeah!”
“What did you want us to do? Drag your dead body to the community centre? Tell the police, ‘oh, yeah, this is our dead friend, but he'll wake up soon, trust me’?”
Nathan just huffed. He didn’t really know what to say. Before they drew their attention elsewhere, he spoke up.
“I was dead,” he repeated.
“You said that already, mate.” said Curtis.
Nathan opened his mouth for a moment before closing it again. He wanted to say something, but he didn’t know what to say, because what was there to be upset about?
Nothing, everything—he couldn’t tell.
“You’re all horrible,” he joked. “Left me for dead.”
“You already were dead.” Alisha corrected.
“And you’re literally alive.” Kelly felt necessary to add.
Nathan let out a laugh, even though he didn’t really know what was funny. It was just true.
“Good point.”
That should’ve been the end of that conversation, but something still sat in his gut. The conversation flowed around him as the others talked, laughed, complained. Nathan joined when he felt necessary. He joked, insulted Simon, and was scolded by Kelly, the usual. He couldn’t get the alley out of his mind, though. He couldn’t stop thinking about waking up alone, scared, the fact that him dying was always so temporary to him. In a way, it was to him, too; he was alive, after all. That didn’t make it not happen, though—didn’t make the pain during and after any less real.
After a couple hours, his mates were still chatting. Nathan wasn’t. He sat in a wheelchair, fidgeting with the wheels, staring at nothing.
“Nathan.”
He was broken out of his trance. Kelly was looking at him.
“You’re being weird.”
“I’m always weird.”
“You know what I mean.”
The others were looking now, too, because apparently they were all neurologically connected or something. Nathan looked away because he unfortunately did know what she meant. Get out of my head, he thought to himself—well, to Kelly, really.
“Something happen?”
Nathan laughed.
“Yeah, I died. Takes a lot outta you, y’know.”
Nobody laughed back. The air around him felt thick and he could feel a weight sitting on his chest. He shifted uncomfortably. The room was quiet , and, for some reason, that made him angry—not at them, no—because he could feel the eyes on him. He usually liked attention, but not when they were all staring at him like a kicked puppy.
“Forget it. I was just having a laugh.”
“No,” Kelly said, “What’s your deal?”
“Literally nothing.”
“You’re sulking.”
“Am not.”
“You absolutely are,” Simon added.
“Sod off, Barry, you traitor.”
“Traitor?” asked Simon.
“You joined Team Kelly.”
Kelly looked at him with a delighted smile. “Team Kelly.”
“Shut it.”
“Team Kelly,” repeated Kelly.
Nathan groaned while the others smiled. that normally would’ve broken the tension. Tonight, it didn’t. The silence crept back. Nathan’s eyes drifted off to the floor.
The floor was stained. The rugs corner was permanently curled up. There was a burn mark near his feet. Anything else was easier to look at than them, because he could feel their eyes burning into his skin.
“Is it scary, still?”
Nathan looked up. Simon didn’t look away.
“When you…die.”
“No…” he said. It was true, sorta. Simon didn’t seem to like that answer. “Not dying, just…the moment before, y’know?”
They all seemed intrigued, and concerned, by that answer. Nobody else spoke; they just stared.
“There,” he laughed weakly, “see what you’ve done?”
The others just looked at each other, then back at him.
“Every time?” Curtis asked. His words, instead of the judgment Nathan was expecting, were genuine.
Nathan stared back, hesitated, then nodded.
“Every time.”
The admission hung over the room and Nathan felt like the air was too thick to breathe. He rubbed his face tiredly.
“Like, I know I’m coming back. But, not then. Not when it’s happening." Nathan picked at his skin uncomfortably. “Every time, I think…”
His chest felt tight.
“This is it. I’ve finally been too reckless, too careless. Maybe my powers stopped working. Maybe I’ve finally run out of lives.”
He didn’t notice how words just kept coming.
“I think maybe this is the one where I stay dead.”
Nathan’s words were met with silence. He didn’t look up. He realized he broke skin by picking at it—that annoyed him, so he shoved his hands into his pockets. He had already gone this far, he thought, might as well continue.
“It still hurts, like a lot, actually. Dying. Every bloody time.”
Nathan didn’t like how his voice cracked at the word ‘dying’, because saying it aloud made it feel all too real.
Simon was the one to break the silence. “Why haven’t you said nothing?”
“Right,” Nathan said, “because we’re all brilliant at talking about our emotions.”
Kelly rolled her eyes, but mumbled quietly, “Fair.”
The room was quiet again. What were they supposed to say? "Sorry that you keep dying?" Bit ridiculous, really.
Nathan regretted opening his mouth to begin with.
"Right," he stood up abruptly. "Well."
"What're ya doing?" Kelly frowned.
"Leaving."
"You live here."
"Dramatically going into another room, then, I dunno.”
A small laugh escaped Curtis's mouth.
"Don't laugh with pity, laugh because I'm funny, prick.”
Kelly snorted. Simon looked down to the floor, probably to hide the fact that was smiling. Nathan hated it. He hated how everyone suddenly seemed so careful, like he might break. He fidgeted with the inside of his pockets.
"I'm fine,” he stated, just for the record.
Four expressions immediately informed him that nobody believed that.
"You literally just said—“ Kelly started.
"I know what the fuck I said."
The sharpness surprised even him. The silence found its way back. Nathan rubbed his neck.
"Sorry,” he said without thinking. That shocked everyone, including himself.
Kelly laughed. "No way you just apologized."
"Sod off."
"No, hang on—“
"I said forget it, mate."
Curtis laughed again, but a proper laugh this time. Nathan rolled his eyes.
"There he is."
He huffed with a small smile. They waited, maybe for him to say anything else; when he didn't, nobody pushed him. Rain pattered softly on the windows. Things felt normal—normal enough, anyway. Which was good. He'd already talked more than he’d meant to.
"We ordering food, or what?" Kelly broke the silence.
"Oh yeah, I'm starving, mate. Dying really makes you hungry, believe it or not"
"Chinese.”
Nathan cribbed at Simon’s suggestion. “Hell no. I could really go for some Indian though…”
“I’m with Simon on the Chinese.” Alisha stated.
“Team Simon.” said Simon with a smirk.
“I’m the funny one, Barry, stay in your own little box of shyness.”
“Indian sounds fantastic.” Kelly said, and Curtis agreed.
“Three against two.” fought Nathan.
“Team Kelly for the win once again.”