Chapter Text
Nathaniel was not having a good day.
He was no stranger to occasional hiccups in his daily plan. After all, he wasn't a walking disaster like Marinette. But today it felt like the entire universe was conspiring against him. The previous night, he'd had a fight with his mother…..again. She took off on him about getting a C- in Maths. Normally, he would just shut up, listen, wait for her to finish yelling, mumble an apology and go to his room. There, he'd punch a wall or rant to Ziggy or cry himself to sleep. It was the same every time. But yesterday, she did something unforgivable: she blamed Marc. "Your grades started slipping ever since you started hanging around with that boy! Wasting your time and talents making comic books! If I catch you with him again, or if I find that comic of yours, you will NEVER see him or any of your friends ever again." "It's not his fault, Mother." Nathaniel had replied with whatever little courage he had. "That Marc boy is a bad influence on him," his mother muttered to his father, completely ignoring him. "If we don't set him straight, that queer will ruin our son."
Nathaniel couldn't take it anymore. His rage had reached a boiling point. To take it out him was one thing. To blame Marc? Marc was one of, if not the best person in Nathaniel's life. He loved Marc with all his heart and soul, and the comic they were making together was greatest thing Nathaniel had ever accomplished. His mother blaming and insulting Marc finally broke him. "Shut up," he hissed, glaring at her. "What did you say to me?" His mother's voice became dangerously calm. "I said SHUT UP! You can't talk about Marc like that! It's not his fault!" "How dare you speak to me like this, Nathaniel?! I am your mother, and I know what's best for you, and you will OBEY ME!" Tears streamed down his face as he ran into his room and locked the door. He punched his wall over and over again, hoping that the sheer power of his rage would crack the concrete and paint. He took the picture of him and Marc on his bedside table and shoved it into his drawer. It felt too painful to look at him now. If he saw Marc's smiling face from the photo, the tears would only flow faster. Of course he was angry at his parents for the way they behaved, but a small part of him was angry at Marc too. If he'd just found another illustrator for his comics, if he'd never come into his life, maybe none of this would've happened. Maybe Nathaniel's parents would love him more.
With all these troubled thoughts swirling around in his head, he didn't sleep much the previous night. He felt a bit of comfort, however, when he felt Ziggy curl herself up on his shoulder as he slept. It was times like these where he really appreciated his kwami, and felt he didn't express it enough. To show his appreciation, he snuck her an extra piece of strawberry at breakfast that morning.
Unfortunately, the fight from the previous night had more of an effect on Nathaniel's parents than he thought. Before he left for school, his mother called out after him.
"Nathaniel, you have an appointment with Dr. Brandembourg today after school."
His stomach dropped. He knew what these 'doctor's appointments' really were: conversion therapy. He hated every second of those meetings. He could feel his anger and dread bubbling up inside, threatening to burst like a dam all over again. But he didn't have the energy for another argument. So he just gave his mother a curt nod and then left for school.
He reached school, the buzz of activity around him drowning out his thoughts. He let his mind go blank, and felt a bit calmer. But he still felt a deep, dark rage stirring inside him, threatening to turn him into a monster that destroyed everything. He hated himself for it. He hated feeling like his anger could take control of him at any time and wreak havoc on the people around him. His hands clenched into fists as he winced from the pain of his bruised and swollen knuckles. He wouldn't be able to draw much now. Great. Just fucking brilliant. He chose to go full psycho and punch his walls too hard the exact week of the deadline for the next edition of his and Marc's comic. He'd just have to explain it all to Marc, or come up with some dumb excuse-
"Hi Nath!" Nathaniel looked up to find Marc happily waving at him from his usual seat in the art studio. He waved back, his heart fluttering upon seeing Marc smile. God, that boy was gorgeous. He walked over and sat next to him, placing his book bag on a nearby bench. "How's the progress on the illustrations for the comic?" Marc asked. "Not bad," replied Nathaniel. He was working on them right before his mother pounded on his door, demanding that he come to the living room so they could discuss his Maths grade. "Couldn't finish much, though. I was….busy." He didn't feel like telling Marc about his fight with his parents. It was too early in the day for him to start crying again. He fidgeted with his fingers, and that's when Marc noticed the bruises on his knuckles. "Fight with your parents again?" Marc asked in a low voice. Nathaniel silently nodded, pulling his sleeves up to cover his hands. "I'm sorry I couldn't finish the drawings," he mumbled. "It's OK. You don't have to apologize for anything, Nath." Marc took Nathaniel's hand in his and placed a soft kiss on the bruises. "I hope that makes it hurt less," Marc said, smiling. Nathaniel's heart melted into a puddle. "Of course it does," replied Nathaniel, smiling for the first time that day. He wrapped his arms around Marc and pulled him into a tight hug. "What did I ever do to deserve such an amazing boyfriend?" he asked. Marc chuckled. "I could ask you the same thing, mon cheri."
From the hallway, three inconspicuous figures stood watching this interaction. Their leader then said, "Aw, how adorable." He turned to his friends (lackeys), Nelson and Loic. "Wanna break up another couple, boys?" The other two grinned. "I thought you'd never ask, Ray," Nelson said. Ray then pulled out their phone and began scrolling through a list of disguises. Chrysalis had indeed been generous to them. Now it was time to put their powers to good use.
***
By lunchtime, those familiar feelings of overwhelming anger began to resurface. Nathaniel had barely passed Chemistry, and he certainly wasn't looking forward to the inevitable repeat of the previous night's argument. Moreover, each passing second brought him closer to the end of the school day and his session with Dr. Brandembourg. He hated the way the doctor spoke to him, as though he was 'healing' Nathaniel of some horrible disease by trying to 'cure' him of his attraction towards boys. He hated his parents for sending him there. But a small part of him resented Marc, too. If they'd never met, Nathaniel would've never found out he was bisexual, and his parents wouldn't be sending him to conversion therapy. He knew he was wrong for feeling that way, he knew he wasn't being fair to Marc, and he hated himself even more for feeling even that small sliver of resentment towards his boyfriend. Marc meant the world to him. 'There are times where you wish he didn't, though,' that small, nasty voice in back of his mind taunted. He needed to clear his head, he thought. He slipped out of the school gate and walked towards a narrow alley near the school. The worn-down ceramic tiled and stone walled buildings on other side were quiet, and barely anyone else seemed to know of the existence of this alley. He wouldn't find another living being, except for the occasional stray cat. It had become Nathaniel's comfort spot, where he would go when he felt too overwhelmed. He'd just sit on the stony pavement littered with broken bricks and listen to the sounds of distant traffic and breathe in the smell of orchids growing in the balcony garden of one of the buildings. He'd brought Marc here a couple of times, and they were the only two who knew about it.
After a few deep breaths, Nathaniel's thoughts felt less noisy and jumbled. It was then that he heard a set of footsteps behind him. He turned around to find Marc smiling at him. But his smile felt strained. Nathaniel shook his head. "I'd like to be alone right now, if you don't mind." "We need to talk. It's important." Marc dropped his smile. Nathaniel arched his eyebrows in confusion. "What about? If it's about the comics, I already told you I'm sorry for not finishing them." Marc grabbed his hand and led him into the alley. He looked around with suspicion, as if to make sure that no one else was around. Nathaniel's heart began to beat a little faster. "You're scaring me a bit, Marc. Just tell me what this is about." Marc looked straight into Nathaniel's eyes. "I'm breaking up with you."
The words struck Nathaniel like lightning. "What? Why?" he asked softly, his voice quivering. To his shock, Marc simply…..laughed. His lips twisted into an ugly smirk, so unlike the boy Nathaniel knew. "What, don't act like you don't know. The anger issues? I don't wanna be with someone who rages at every little thing. I can't date someone so unstable. Not to mention your drawing skills. My two-year-old cousin draws better than you! I always knew you weren't good enough to illustrate my comic, I just took pity on you. Thanks to you, I absolutely despise our comic." Nathaniel's hands curled into fists. His vision grew blurry with tears. "How could you?" he asked softly, his voice full of hurt. His pain turned to rage. He thought Marc of all people would love him despite his temper, would encourage his art. The way Marc called him 'unstable', the sheer hatred behind the word, rang in Nathaniel's ears. The part of him that hated Marc came bubbling back to the surface. Nathaniel had essentially sacrificed his parents' love and any form of their acceptance for Marc. And this is what he gets in return? Not even Marc could accept him. His mind flashed back to every time his mother belittled him. To every session with Dr. Brandembourg, where he was told that he was broken, that there was something mentally wrong with him because he loved Marc. He always knew his temper was an issue, yet another thing that needed fixing. But at least Marc accepted all of him, every issue and imperfection. He glanced down at his bruised knuckles, then at Marc. For a split second, his face morphed into that of Nathaniel's mother, then into that of Dr. Brandembourg. Everyone who told him he was broken and needed fixing. As Marc turned to walk away, a white-hot surge of anger radiated through Nathaniel's body. Before he could stop himself, he picked up a brick. If Marc thought he was psychotic rage-fuelled monster, then a monster he would become. In his mind, he was screaming curses at everyone who ever wronged him. The power of his rage swung his hand holding the brick, and it connected with the back of Marc's head. The angry beast inside Nathaniel's chest growled with satisfaction when he heard a crack, but all his rage dissipated as he watched Marc crumple to the ground and lay still. Nathaniel dropped the bloodstained brick in horror. He backed away and covered his mouth with his hands. "Oh no……no." He ran over to Marc's still body and put two fingers to his neck, praying that he would find a pulse. Nathaniel's stomach dropped and his veins were flooded with terror when he felt no beating pulse beneath his fingertips. "Marc? Marc, wake up! Please, wake up! I'm so sorry, I'm sosososososo sorry. Just please, wake up,"" Tears streamed down his face as he shook his boyfriend's body, willing his eyes to flutter open. But soon, the horrifying reality of the situation hit Nathaniel like a freight train.
He had just killed his boyfriend.