Haven fic: Rollercoaster of Emotions (PG-13) (1/1)
Title: Rollercoaster of Emotions (1/1)
Author: caroly_214
Characters/Pairings: Nathan, Nathan/Audrey UST
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 2,154
Disclaimer: I do not own Haven.
Spoilers: Up to 1x09 "As You Were"
Summary: Nathan's reaction to the events of "As You Were." Character introspection.
Comments: Many, many thanks to my brilliant beta goodisrelative.
Author's Note: Nathan wouldn't leave me alone until I wrote this, so I guess he needed to get all of this off his chest. Also, fair warning, I wrote this while on Vicodin, recovering from knee surgery. It was originally more stream of consciousness, but luckily for you, goodisrelative reminded me that stream of consciousness can be confusing and difficult to read. :-) Any remaining confusion is my fault.
He shut the door, locking himself in, keeping everyone else out. No matter how much he wanted - even needed - the company, reassurance, touch of others - Audrey - right now, what he needed more was solitude. A chance to fall apart without judgment, without anyone knowing.
But even being locked alone in his own home wasn’t enough. Grabbing a bottle of Jack from the kitchen, he slipped into his room - quiet, dark, empty. Nothing to bother him, no one to ask him anything. A place where he could try to sort out these confused feelings that were threatening to overwhelm him before he completely broke.
It was ironic, really. He was a man who had never been comfortable with his emotions - expressing them, sharing them, even feeling them. He had always been more tactile and had taken refuge in the physical world - what he could see and hear and smell and feel. And then such a huge part of his refuge was taken away. He wasn’t sure if he was the butt of a cosmic joke or the subject of some freakish alien experiment: let’s see how long it takes for the human to break when his most important sense is taken away from him.
Except now everything was even more screwed up and he had no idea what was going on, what he should feel, and what he was going to do.
Right then, the memories he’d been ignoring, forcibly shoving to the back of his mind while other things - more important things - were going on, came back at him. He scrambled for a wastebasket as the acidic taste of bile overwhelmed him and all he could do was kneel on the floor, retching, while hot tears of hurt, devastation and frustration spilled down his cheeks. When the retching finally stopped, he collapsed against the wall and gulped down some Jack because being sick, being drunk, anything, was better than the memory of Audrey’s “death.”
He couldn’t believe he’d almost lost Audrey.
Just the thought of it made him want to crawl into a deep, dark place and never face reality again. He’d never expected the petite, blonde spitfire to have that effect on him. When they met, he’d realized she was cute - he lost his sense of touch, not his eyesight - and it hadn’t taken long before he liked her spunky attitude. He had to admit, though, her standing up to the Chief had had a lot to do with that. He’d figured she’d be another person passing through, good for a few days’ distraction, and a new set of fantasies. He wasn’t dead, after all, and his “condition” meant he couldn’t be stimulated by touch, but there were other ways. Didn’t mean it wasn’t damned embarrassing in person, but in the beginning with Audrey, it was just fantasies. One of his favorites was when she brought him flowers while he was napping on the office couch; he always started it off with her being a lot closer when he woke up….
But she didn’t leave and he’d had to ruthlessly suppress the fantasies, because fantasizing about your partner didn’t lead to good things. Suppressing the fantasies hadn’t worked out too well, but despite that, they became a really good team, even friends. Somehow, she became a bright spot in his day, someone he enjoyed seeing every single day, working with, eating with, joking with. He wasn’t sure how it happened, but she had just placed herself in his life at his side and that was the way it was going to be. He had had no say in it, which was okay with him.
And if another woman kinda came onto him - which was the first time that had happened in….pretty much forever, but definitely since he got this “condition” - it wasn’t surprising that he fell, was it? If he noted Audrey’s jealousy with satisfaction, he would never admit it.
Then it was over. Nothing ever changed.
Of course Jess left. Jess fell into the category of “too good to be true.” She’d come onto him, been understanding of his “condition” and acted like it didn’t affect her opinion of him, and even come back to him after he pushed her away. But then she left. And it wasn’t enough that she left, but she had to say it was because of the things happening around him. Yes, let’s kick the dog while he’s down, shall we, Jess?
He wasn’t sure what was worse: that she did it, or that he did didn’t see it coming.
Right when he was kicking himself for once again being an idiot who should have known better, Audrey decided to knock his universe off its axis. And the worst past was, she had no idea she was doing it.
Despite himself, he still couldn’t describe just how her kiss felt, other than that he actually felt it. He wanted to relive that moment over and over because it was over too fast. He had no idea what caused it and as long as it happened again and again, he didn’t care.
He’d wanted to tell her right then and there. Or later that right. Or the next day. But he didn’t. It was too much. His emotions - whatever they were - were too raw. It wasn’t the sort of thing you just sprung on someone, especially during their birthday party with lots of people around. It could wait until he’d figured it out, until they were alone and the time was right.
And then he’d nearly lost her.
He couldn’t think of the beginning of the party without getting sick. To know there was a chameleon among them, planning on taking Audrey from him, and then replacing her while they were all oblivious - while he was oblivious.
When he began to suspect, it had been all he could do to keep it together. He supposed he should thank his “condition” for teaching him how to keep a stoic expression, but never had he had so much trouble not breaking down.
He hadn’t felt her hand. He’d looked at her beautiful face, thinking how much he wanted to kiss her, and realizing he had probably lost his chance, he finally gave in, rationalizing that it was her lips he’d felt the first time, so to be sure it was really her, he had to touch her lips. But he couldn’t feel her. So his desperate last chance became a symbolic good-bye to the one woman - the one person - who had drawn him out of his self-imposed isolation and made him feel real, made him feel whole.
Then he’d shot the imposter who’d murdered his Audrey.
With that gunshot, he’d felt his own life start to slip away - not physically, but in every other way. What reason was there to work without Audrey at his side? What reason was there to joke if Audrey - the only person who got his jokes - wasn’t there to hear them? What reason was there to go on without Audrey? He would have continued existing he was sure, driven on by the over-developed sense of duty that led to him becoming a cop despite hating everything his dad stood for - but he wouldn’t have continued living. He would have just wasted away until there was nothing left.
But then the imposter said that Audrey was alive and all he could think about was finding Audrey, making sure she was okay. The first part wasn’t that hard; the second part was more difficult. The emotions that the fear and the waiting stirred in him made him - and unfortunately everyone else who was there - realize that his feelings for Audrey went a lot deeper than he ever suspected.
Was it love? Was it being in love? Was it need? He really didn’t know. He knew that she deserved more than simply being a conduit for him to feel, and the anger he felt at himself for even thinking such a thing made him think there was a lot more to it than that. But what? He respected her, he liked her, he liked spending time with her. She was his friend, definitely his closest friend, probably his best friend. A couple times recently, he’d awoke from dreams, left only with hazy images of an blonde haired little girl who looked just like Audrey with an impish smile calling him “Daddy,” or with a smiling Audrey whose hands were caressing a swollen belly. The dreams left his heart with an ache, but was it simply him putting the only woman he knew well in the position of something he had always wanted, or did he truly want Audrey in his future? Maybe he was over-thinking this.
The truth was, Nathan was terrified. Terrified of losing Audrey - to a Trouble, to the FBI, to someone else, or to his own failings. He had a feeling if he told her this, she’d laugh and tell him that he wasn’t going to lose her, but he’d lost everyone and everything else and he’d come far too close to losing her in the past 2 days.
But recent events had left him with a new fear. He had kissed her. It wasn’t the first time a kiss had been shared between them, though the first time was merely a friendly peck on the cheek. And it wasn’t the first time he had wanted to kiss her (though he’d have denied it to his dying breath if you’d asked before now). He had catalogues of fantasy kisses with Audrey. In some, like the fantasy from the first case when he was napping on the couch, the kisses were passionate and quickly led to other activities (all his kissing fantasies led to other activities - but some fantasies got there more quickly than others). And then there was the time when she wore the outfit he got her and she looked so adorable it had been all he could do not to pull her across her desk and kiss her senseless, with some playfulness thrown in for good measure. And one of his newest, after she kissed him on the cheek, he turned his head and caught her lips with his, that kiss turning sensual.
The kiss with the imposter had been the first time Audrey - fantasy, fake, etc - didn’t kiss him back.
He wasn’t so vain to expect that Audrey would immediately throw her arms around him and kiss him back passionately (though he refused to comment on whether he had fantasies to that effect). He expected surprise, shock, maybe some resistance at first, but he believed and hoped she was attracted to him and had feelings for him, and those would take over and she would kiss him back.
Fake-Audrey didn’t. She’d stood there, the entire time, arms held at her sides, body ramrod-straight. She didn’t soften, she didn’t melt. And when he broke away, her response was to yell, “Nathan, what the hell?”
He’d pushed her reaction aside because he’d been too busy killing the chameleon, and then saving Audrey. Then he’d been trying to convince himself it was the chameleon’s reaction to the kiss, not Audrey’s. But the chameleon never slipped. As he’d discovered just a short while ago, the chameleon used the exact same words to describe Audrey’s middle name as Audrey did. The chameleon mimicked Audrey perfectly. With a sinking feeling in his gut, he’d been forced to conclude that the chameleon’s reaction to the kiss would have been the same as Audrey’s.
He tried telling himself that he couldn’t just expect to kiss Audrey in the middle of a room with lots of people during a murder investigation, and expect her to forget it all and kiss him senseless. Plus, it was too soon after his breakup with Jess to kiss Audrey, and that would explain her less than enthusiastic response to his kiss. But it didn’t make it hurt less. It didn’t give him any idea how she felt about him. And it didn’t help him figure out what the hell he should do about any of this.
He was tempted to drink more of the Jack, but he had to work in the morning, and Audrey would know if he was hung-over. It would be hard enough keeping his emotional turmoil from her sober, so he didn’t dare drink. Besides, knowing his luck, the alcohol would just make the nightmares worse - he knew he was in for dreams of Audrey dying, of him killing the real Audrey, and any other horror movie ending his unconscious mind could come up with to torture him.
In the morning, he would face the woman who was causing all of his problems. But given the alternative, he’d rather have her at his side.
Author: caroly_214
Characters/Pairings: Nathan, Nathan/Audrey UST
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 2,154
Disclaimer: I do not own Haven.
Spoilers: Up to 1x09 "As You Were"
Summary: Nathan's reaction to the events of "As You Were." Character introspection.
Comments: Many, many thanks to my brilliant beta goodisrelative.
Author's Note: Nathan wouldn't leave me alone until I wrote this, so I guess he needed to get all of this off his chest. Also, fair warning, I wrote this while on Vicodin, recovering from knee surgery. It was originally more stream of consciousness, but luckily for you, goodisrelative reminded me that stream of consciousness can be confusing and difficult to read. :-) Any remaining confusion is my fault.
He shut the door, locking himself in, keeping everyone else out. No matter how much he wanted - even needed - the company, reassurance, touch of others - Audrey - right now, what he needed more was solitude. A chance to fall apart without judgment, without anyone knowing.
But even being locked alone in his own home wasn’t enough. Grabbing a bottle of Jack from the kitchen, he slipped into his room - quiet, dark, empty. Nothing to bother him, no one to ask him anything. A place where he could try to sort out these confused feelings that were threatening to overwhelm him before he completely broke.
It was ironic, really. He was a man who had never been comfortable with his emotions - expressing them, sharing them, even feeling them. He had always been more tactile and had taken refuge in the physical world - what he could see and hear and smell and feel. And then such a huge part of his refuge was taken away. He wasn’t sure if he was the butt of a cosmic joke or the subject of some freakish alien experiment: let’s see how long it takes for the human to break when his most important sense is taken away from him.
Except now everything was even more screwed up and he had no idea what was going on, what he should feel, and what he was going to do.
Right then, the memories he’d been ignoring, forcibly shoving to the back of his mind while other things - more important things - were going on, came back at him. He scrambled for a wastebasket as the acidic taste of bile overwhelmed him and all he could do was kneel on the floor, retching, while hot tears of hurt, devastation and frustration spilled down his cheeks. When the retching finally stopped, he collapsed against the wall and gulped down some Jack because being sick, being drunk, anything, was better than the memory of Audrey’s “death.”
He couldn’t believe he’d almost lost Audrey.
Just the thought of it made him want to crawl into a deep, dark place and never face reality again. He’d never expected the petite, blonde spitfire to have that effect on him. When they met, he’d realized she was cute - he lost his sense of touch, not his eyesight - and it hadn’t taken long before he liked her spunky attitude. He had to admit, though, her standing up to the Chief had had a lot to do with that. He’d figured she’d be another person passing through, good for a few days’ distraction, and a new set of fantasies. He wasn’t dead, after all, and his “condition” meant he couldn’t be stimulated by touch, but there were other ways. Didn’t mean it wasn’t damned embarrassing in person, but in the beginning with Audrey, it was just fantasies. One of his favorites was when she brought him flowers while he was napping on the office couch; he always started it off with her being a lot closer when he woke up….
But she didn’t leave and he’d had to ruthlessly suppress the fantasies, because fantasizing about your partner didn’t lead to good things. Suppressing the fantasies hadn’t worked out too well, but despite that, they became a really good team, even friends. Somehow, she became a bright spot in his day, someone he enjoyed seeing every single day, working with, eating with, joking with. He wasn’t sure how it happened, but she had just placed herself in his life at his side and that was the way it was going to be. He had had no say in it, which was okay with him.
And if another woman kinda came onto him - which was the first time that had happened in….pretty much forever, but definitely since he got this “condition” - it wasn’t surprising that he fell, was it? If he noted Audrey’s jealousy with satisfaction, he would never admit it.
Then it was over. Nothing ever changed.
Of course Jess left. Jess fell into the category of “too good to be true.” She’d come onto him, been understanding of his “condition” and acted like it didn’t affect her opinion of him, and even come back to him after he pushed her away. But then she left. And it wasn’t enough that she left, but she had to say it was because of the things happening around him. Yes, let’s kick the dog while he’s down, shall we, Jess?
He wasn’t sure what was worse: that she did it, or that he did didn’t see it coming.
Right when he was kicking himself for once again being an idiot who should have known better, Audrey decided to knock his universe off its axis. And the worst past was, she had no idea she was doing it.
Despite himself, he still couldn’t describe just how her kiss felt, other than that he actually felt it. He wanted to relive that moment over and over because it was over too fast. He had no idea what caused it and as long as it happened again and again, he didn’t care.
He’d wanted to tell her right then and there. Or later that right. Or the next day. But he didn’t. It was too much. His emotions - whatever they were - were too raw. It wasn’t the sort of thing you just sprung on someone, especially during their birthday party with lots of people around. It could wait until he’d figured it out, until they were alone and the time was right.
And then he’d nearly lost her.
He couldn’t think of the beginning of the party without getting sick. To know there was a chameleon among them, planning on taking Audrey from him, and then replacing her while they were all oblivious - while he was oblivious.
When he began to suspect, it had been all he could do to keep it together. He supposed he should thank his “condition” for teaching him how to keep a stoic expression, but never had he had so much trouble not breaking down.
He hadn’t felt her hand. He’d looked at her beautiful face, thinking how much he wanted to kiss her, and realizing he had probably lost his chance, he finally gave in, rationalizing that it was her lips he’d felt the first time, so to be sure it was really her, he had to touch her lips. But he couldn’t feel her. So his desperate last chance became a symbolic good-bye to the one woman - the one person - who had drawn him out of his self-imposed isolation and made him feel real, made him feel whole.
Then he’d shot the imposter who’d murdered his Audrey.
With that gunshot, he’d felt his own life start to slip away - not physically, but in every other way. What reason was there to work without Audrey at his side? What reason was there to joke if Audrey - the only person who got his jokes - wasn’t there to hear them? What reason was there to go on without Audrey? He would have continued existing he was sure, driven on by the over-developed sense of duty that led to him becoming a cop despite hating everything his dad stood for - but he wouldn’t have continued living. He would have just wasted away until there was nothing left.
But then the imposter said that Audrey was alive and all he could think about was finding Audrey, making sure she was okay. The first part wasn’t that hard; the second part was more difficult. The emotions that the fear and the waiting stirred in him made him - and unfortunately everyone else who was there - realize that his feelings for Audrey went a lot deeper than he ever suspected.
Was it love? Was it being in love? Was it need? He really didn’t know. He knew that she deserved more than simply being a conduit for him to feel, and the anger he felt at himself for even thinking such a thing made him think there was a lot more to it than that. But what? He respected her, he liked her, he liked spending time with her. She was his friend, definitely his closest friend, probably his best friend. A couple times recently, he’d awoke from dreams, left only with hazy images of an blonde haired little girl who looked just like Audrey with an impish smile calling him “Daddy,” or with a smiling Audrey whose hands were caressing a swollen belly. The dreams left his heart with an ache, but was it simply him putting the only woman he knew well in the position of something he had always wanted, or did he truly want Audrey in his future? Maybe he was over-thinking this.
The truth was, Nathan was terrified. Terrified of losing Audrey - to a Trouble, to the FBI, to someone else, or to his own failings. He had a feeling if he told her this, she’d laugh and tell him that he wasn’t going to lose her, but he’d lost everyone and everything else and he’d come far too close to losing her in the past 2 days.
But recent events had left him with a new fear. He had kissed her. It wasn’t the first time a kiss had been shared between them, though the first time was merely a friendly peck on the cheek. And it wasn’t the first time he had wanted to kiss her (though he’d have denied it to his dying breath if you’d asked before now). He had catalogues of fantasy kisses with Audrey. In some, like the fantasy from the first case when he was napping on the couch, the kisses were passionate and quickly led to other activities (all his kissing fantasies led to other activities - but some fantasies got there more quickly than others). And then there was the time when she wore the outfit he got her and she looked so adorable it had been all he could do not to pull her across her desk and kiss her senseless, with some playfulness thrown in for good measure. And one of his newest, after she kissed him on the cheek, he turned his head and caught her lips with his, that kiss turning sensual.
The kiss with the imposter had been the first time Audrey - fantasy, fake, etc - didn’t kiss him back.
He wasn’t so vain to expect that Audrey would immediately throw her arms around him and kiss him back passionately (though he refused to comment on whether he had fantasies to that effect). He expected surprise, shock, maybe some resistance at first, but he believed and hoped she was attracted to him and had feelings for him, and those would take over and she would kiss him back.
Fake-Audrey didn’t. She’d stood there, the entire time, arms held at her sides, body ramrod-straight. She didn’t soften, she didn’t melt. And when he broke away, her response was to yell, “Nathan, what the hell?”
He’d pushed her reaction aside because he’d been too busy killing the chameleon, and then saving Audrey. Then he’d been trying to convince himself it was the chameleon’s reaction to the kiss, not Audrey’s. But the chameleon never slipped. As he’d discovered just a short while ago, the chameleon used the exact same words to describe Audrey’s middle name as Audrey did. The chameleon mimicked Audrey perfectly. With a sinking feeling in his gut, he’d been forced to conclude that the chameleon’s reaction to the kiss would have been the same as Audrey’s.
He tried telling himself that he couldn’t just expect to kiss Audrey in the middle of a room with lots of people during a murder investigation, and expect her to forget it all and kiss him senseless. Plus, it was too soon after his breakup with Jess to kiss Audrey, and that would explain her less than enthusiastic response to his kiss. But it didn’t make it hurt less. It didn’t give him any idea how she felt about him. And it didn’t help him figure out what the hell he should do about any of this.
He was tempted to drink more of the Jack, but he had to work in the morning, and Audrey would know if he was hung-over. It would be hard enough keeping his emotional turmoil from her sober, so he didn’t dare drink. Besides, knowing his luck, the alcohol would just make the nightmares worse - he knew he was in for dreams of Audrey dying, of him killing the real Audrey, and any other horror movie ending his unconscious mind could come up with to torture him.
In the morning, he would face the woman who was causing all of his problems. But given the alternative, he’d rather have her at his side.