If you're looking for an adventure in the morally grey, and a crash course of the human condition, this is the story for you! What is good and evil? Where is that line drawn, and who decides that? Packed with humor, danger, feels, and awkward relati...
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Whoever told him that experiencing something difficult prepared him to deal with it again was entirely wrong. It had been awful to watch Tanner walk to his own death, allow them to strap him down, and then just accept the punishment they thought he deserved. Never in his life before had he watched someone die. It had been so silent and easy looking for the men who had done it. It made Nathan want to throw up.
He'd already done that though.
They'd had an intermission of a couple of hours between Tanner, and Ian, who they were bringing in now. During that time, Nathan couldn't get the image of Tanner's still body out of his mind. What was worse was the sick look of satisfaction from the woman who left with her lawyers shortly after. They left, but Nathan doubted they were getting away. The dark eyes of Oliver Moceri had followed the woman's back with malice and a twist of his lips into a spiteful grimace.
Under Nathan's shallow fear that the woman would be dead before the weeks end, all that was left in the room was silence. Except for Rachel, who broke down into tears and was flanked by Tim and Halen in an instant, hugging her between them and supporting her as she clutched them and shook in their arms.
That in itself had Nathan reeling. It was only when she'd walked in today that he'd realized she was pregnant. It didn't take much imagination from anyone to figure out who the child belonged to, and even Maggie had covered her mouth with a hand and curled up into a tighter ball. Nathan was so distraught that he still hadn't said anything to her. What was he going to say? What would ease the heart of a girl carrying Tanner's child as they took him away from her.
Nothing.
So, aside from her crying, there was nothing but bitter silence, the scratching of pencil on paper, and the tacking of fingers on keys as the reporters to his right documented the whole affair. That made him grievously upset too, but what didn't today? Someone had to tell the stories of the men who were leaving the world today, and if it wasn't these two it would be others. At least people would know about them, even it was just to sate their curiosity. It was better than them fading into nothing without anyone knowing their names or faces.
Leaning into Donovan's chest, as if the man could dispel any of this, Nathan was doing his best to not imagine breaking the black-haired woman's computer. Regardless of what he thought, the tack-tacking of keys was drumming into his mind a migraine that was worsening each time he had to hear them.
Nathan didn't want to watch Ian die.
All he wanted was his last memory to be of the man smiling, to remember the fun times they'd had, the sad times they'd shared, and the awkward place they'd finally reached together after everything that had been thrown at them.
If he left though, that would be cruel to Ian, so he was sitting here, forcing himself to be present for him. It wasn't like his last memory of Ian was going to be pleasant anyway. Though they had eventually calmed down enough to talk about stupid things for several hours the day before, it had ended the same as it had started–in tears, with Ian being dragged away. It wasn't in Ian to allow them to take him away, and he'd struggled with and cursed at the guards until they had subdued him and marched him back to his cell.
