34. "Please put the bottle down" and/or 35. "Please don't make me go back. Let me stay here" idk who just make it HURT
y’all are having too much fun have some angst instead :)
Characters and AU are from @devil-may-care-seriesJonathan had to admit, sharing an RV with Chuck and Reggie wasn’t the easiest thing. Maybe he could think of several junk yards that would be a better place to live than with those two, but while they were playing together it was just easier and cheaper to live in the RV. They had their moments of contention, where someone would accidentally steal someone else’s ramen or someone would wake up too early and annoy the others, but overall it worked. The only exception was when you threw Nathan Smith into the mix, and you ended up with a recipe for disaster. Like today.
It had been bad enough that Nate had turned up out of the blue expecting them to give him a bunk and some food. It had taken all of Jonathan’s strength to stop Chuck and Reggie from jumping at his throat right there, for their sake more than Nate’s. Despite many objections, Jonathan let Nate stay. All they could see was someone who’d maybe been on a weekend bender. He saw someone who had had a rough hunt. That had led to almost an hour of passive aggressive jabs from opposite sides of the RV, so Jonathan had sent Chuck and Reggie out to blow off some steam. Surprisingly, they had listened. Maybe it was their dislike for Nate that encouraged them to comply, maybe it was Jonathan’s serious tone of voice. Either way, they left the RV, leaving Jonathan and Nate alone together. Jonathan tried to comfort Nate, but in typical Nathan Smith fashion he brushed him off with a cocky smirk and a bad joke. It took five attempts to get Nate to open up before Jonathan gave up and decided to heat up some leftover pizza from a few nights before that the two could snack on. When he set the plates down, Nate scoffed the food like he hadn’t eaten in days. From the look of him, he probably hadn’t. Other than his concerning behaviour, the two actually had a pleasant meal. They laughed, chatted, and caught up with each other for a solid half an hour. It was good, great even! So Jonathan should’ve known that it couldn’t last.
He was adding the plates to the ever growing pile of dirty dishes when he heard the glass smash behind him. The sound caused him to flinch violently and spin to see what had happened. Originally, he thought someone - or something - had broken the windows, but he saw no shattered panes when he turned around. Then he saw Nate, stood with his back pressed against the wall, white as a sheet with half a bottle in his hand, the rest of it being all over the floor and sofa.
“Nate?” Jonathan called, but his friend didn’t seem to notice him. Instead, he seemed focused on a spot on the opposite side of the RV from him. He was wielding the broken bottle like a weapon, and his face had twisted into a mix of fear and anger.
“Leave me alone!” he hissed to no one.
“Nate!” Jonathan tried again, looking between Nate and the space he was so obsessed with “There’s nothing there, buddy.”
“Go away!” Nate yelled, Jonathan’s words falling on seemingly deaf ears.
“Come on, Nate…” Jonathan muttered, looking around for anything that could help him. He racked his brain for the solution to ‘my best friend is seeing things and wielding sharp objects’, but that topic strangely never cropped up in his many years of hunting. It was at that moment that Chuck and Reggie walked in, ever the ones for perfect timing, and saw Nate with that crazed look and a broken bottle in hand. Of course their first reaction was to start shouting at him before Jonathan could stop them. Nate’s eyes flitted over to them, but they were still unseeing. Jonathan didn’t know what Nate was seeing, but it sure as hell wasn’t Chuck and Reggie. Nate lunged for them, throwing himself over whatever was in his way, but Jonathan saw the way his muscles tensed a split second before he moved and was fast enough to get in front of him grabbing him by his shoulders and stopping him in his tracks. He was faintly aware of the pain that had sprung up in his side, but he pushed it away as he forced Nate to look in his eyes. On the one hand, it wasn’t that difficult, but on the other hand, something switched in Nate’s mind. He threw himself backwards and out of Jonathan’s grip.
"Please don't make me go back. Let me stay here.” he pleaded, reminding Jonathan way too much of a scared kid. He held a hand out to him, like he was trying to calm a scared animal while his other hand went to the pain in his side to be greeted by the all too familiar feeling of blood.
“I’m not making you go anywhere, Nate-”
“Like hell is he staying here!” Chuck shouted, and Jonathan had to stop himself from turning around and punching him right there.
“Chuck, shut up.” he hissed, shooting a glare over his shoulder before focusing on Nate again. Nate, who’s grip on the glass bottle was strong enough to make his knuckles go white. Any tighter and he may actually shatter it.
“Nate, it’s only us. No hallucinations, just us.” Jonathan said calmingly, and he saw a flicker of recognition in Nate’s eyes, how his body seemed to relax ever so slightly.
“Shady?” he said quietly, and Jonathan nodded.
“Yeah, it’s me.” he confirmed, starting to move towards Nate in slow, obvious movements. “Now… please put the bottle down.”
Nate looked at the bottle in his hand, like he hadn’t even known that it was there, before nodding slowly, putting it down on the side somewhere. As he put the bottle down, he seemed to return to his senses and realise what he’d done, looking at Jonathan and his injured side in horror.
“Jonathan, I’m sorry, I-” he surged forwards to try and help his friend, but Chuck and Reggie were there in an instant, protecting Jonathan.
“Back off.” Reggie snapped, and Nate did. He looked from Jonathan holding his side to Shawn at his side helping him to Chuck, standing in between them and Nate like a bodyguard. It took a few seconds for the words Chuck had said to register in his mind, but once they did he was gone. Several fast, feverish steps and he was out of the RV. A few more and he was back in the Firebird, his head resting on his steering wheel as he let out a frustrated scream. Then he took one look back at the RV before starting the car and speeding off. He could find somewhere else to stay. Somewhere where he wasn’t a danger, wasn’t a hazard and wasn’t a burden.