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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Unable to move after everything, Nathan had gone home with Donovan. When the courts had made their decision about Ian and Tanner, they had handed his to Allen. Nathan was essentially free to do what he wanted, though he had to report moving and set himself up with a community service center and stay in contact with his probation officer. There were a lot of nuances of course, but he hadn't had the ability to go over or understand them all yet.
It was strange, but Donovan had gone home in the same car as Rachel and Oliver, with Halen sliding in the front. Allen had mentioned Donovan being with the Moceris, but Nathan had forgotten in all of his grief.
No one said anything the entire ride there.
They all went in and turned in separate directions in a building big enough to house a small army. In Donovan's room, Nathan was sitting on the bed with a blanket wrapped around his shoulders, staring at a box in front of him. It was a box of letters and Nathan couldn't bring himself to open any of them.
They were the last words of a lonely, broken man, and Nathan didn't know if he could bear them. Donovan came over and sat down next to him, the bed sinking with him. Reaching forward, Donovan pulled the box to him and opened the lid.
"Here." Donovan set one in his hands.
Nathan trembled, unsure if he would be able to handle it, and tears dripped down his cheeks as he looked to the outside of the envelope.
It's going to be okay. Read this one first.
From the grave, Ian was thinking about him, and Nathan couldn't refuse the kindness that he'd always shown him. Leaning against Donovan, he opened the envelope and pulled out the letter.
I hope you're not mad at me. I know you might have mixed feelings about my execution. Knowing you, you're not, but I apologize if you did want to see me die. I didn't want you to, so I hope my selfishness didn't cause you too much pain.
It's strange writing this letter and thinking about how I'll no longer be there to make your pain go away, or make it worse. Hell, I was a terrible friend.
Nathan could hear Ian's laugh with his last words, and he pulled the letter away from his face so that his tears didn't drip on it and mar the smooth even letters. Ian had very nice penmanship despite all of the stress he'd been under.
For a while, it's going to hurt, I know. Some of this shit I wrote, you shouldn't read now. I labeled the ones that might cause you grief so you can read them when you are strong enough to stand on your own. I know that's something every man struggles to do, grieving or not. I think you did a good job handling yourself, all things considered.
You're a strong kid, and I'm glad to have spent my final days with you.
I told you that, when you visited today, but I'll tell you again.
