????

Ashes swirl relentlessly around a yacht once again.

Another night. Another race to the top deck. Another confrontation in Nathan's subconscious, with Derek or the magic wearing his charred skin.

"Nathan. So good to see you–"

"No," Nathan snaps, his words' intensity fuelled by the burning pain in his scar. It is stronger now, more searing. Perhaps it is Poveglia's parting gift. "I never want to see your fucking face again."

"I'm afraid that can't be arranged." Derek's grin is a horrid Glasgow smile. "You won't be rid of me. I'm a part of you."

"And I won't accept that," Nathan growls. "If you're a part of me, I promise I won't rest until I've carved every last piece of you out of my body and my mind."

It's the scar. It has to be the scar, the magic—the source of all his troubles. Nathan would take a knife to it, cut all the damaged flesh out of him if it guaranteed he'd be free from this torment. Anything to feel fully in control of himself again.

Derek's ghost or mimic is much like the wicked man Nathan knew in life. The real thing and this copy share a habit of ignoring Nathan's threats, brushing them off as if swatting away annoying flies.

"Stop snarling, Nathan. Why don't you tell me a little something about how your new life is going?" In Derek's glassy, unblinking eyes, blazing flames dance. "To humour me, of course. In truth, there's nothing you could tell me that I don't already know."

"You've never known shit about me."

"I know you're in deep trouble with the Doctor, even though I warned you not to dig." Derek's hollow voice is eerily calm. "I know you've obtained a boat to deal with the issue. But you gave poor Gino a fright over it, didn't you? Just goes to show you're still the same low-life scum you were when you worked for me. Nobody can ever truly change."

"How– Shut up. I didn't mean to do that!"

"But you did it, anyway. You can't escape what you always will be." Derek shambles forward. "I quite liked your date idea, too. How you considered making it real instead of merely using the lie. Nothing is as entertaining as watching you delude yourself into all sorts of things with such naïveté. Like how today you were thinking you have a shot with dear Miss Carrera."

Nathan stands there, stunned, while Derek moves closer and closer, shuffling feet leaving tracks in the ashes covering the floor. This isn't supposed to happen. All these terrifying midnight exchanges and Derek has never once left his spot. His weapon of choice in this war of theirs has always been his tongue.

"You're a penniless nobody with only sins to your name. A killer, even. And that woman you want to call yours knows it. You might not have realized as much, but girls like her? The rich, famous, pretty, charming ones? Those girls can get anyone they want, and they don't settle for the likes of you. She can't love you. Not if she's smart."

He's right, isn't he? Derek always lies, but Nathan can't shake the feeling the man has a valid point this time around. His description of Jamie is fairly spot-on, and Nathan, no matter how he loathes it, is exactly what Derek is calling him. If Jamie were repulsed by the mere idea of a relationship with that, he would understand completely.

But he tries to cling to sparks of hope a little longer these days, even if it's futile.

"Jamie is full of surprises." His voice isn't as steady as he'd like it to be. "If anyone could love me, it's her."

"Fair enough. Then consider, for a moment, a scenario where she does love you. Wouldn't that be worse?" Derek comes to a halt in front of him, so close Nathan smells smoke and scorched flesh. "Because you may not be a criminal anymore, but you're still a danger to her. All you've done is put her at risk. With me, with that deer, with the island... You know she wouldn't have gotten in trouble if it wasn't for you. This is quite similar to how it was five years ago, wouldn't you agree? When your mother died because of you." Derek begins to lift an ash-blackened hand. "That closeness with Miss Carrera you cherish? It's the worst thing that could've happened to her, and she's too blind to notice it."

"If you dare touch me," Nathan warns in a low tone, "you're going to lose those fucking fingers."

Derek delivers a hard kick to Nathan's abdomen in a split second. Decoy move. The devil is far more fast and agile than Nathan would've thought, and he plants his foot into Nathan's scar with force.

Right where it hurts the most.

Stars explode behind Nathan's eyes. He gasps for breath, inhaling enough ashes to paint his oesophagus black. His throat is raw and itchy and every organ, bone and muscle are set aflame. The pain hits so powerfully it brings him to his knees. He presses his forehead to the dirty deck hard, just to be able to feel something else.

"It truly is such a shame," Derek whispers in his ear, "that if she loves you, she'll die."

A storm of soot and cinders sweeps the whole yacht away.

~~

October 18, 2023

Nathan wakes in a pool of cold sweat, disoriented in the darkness of the room. There is a tension in his body, as if he slept without ever relaxing his muscles. When he sits up, he's ready to punch the shit out of any Derek-like monsters hiding in the black void around him.

The dream left a nasty aftertaste—literally. He might as well have sleepwalked and eaten from an ashtray. But he knows he didn't. The door to his and Jamie's room remains closed and locked.

His eyes adjust to the dark. His scar burns. He isn't sure if it's a remnant of his dream or an indication the Doctor is out there again, watching closed curtains, knowing full well Nathan can feel its presence. Nathan refuses to check.

His fingers wrap around the talisman necklace Jamie gave him. He didn't take it off, hoping in vain its promise of protection against evil and bad luck would keep these nightmares away. It couldn't. A sweet and thoughtful gift, but it hosts no magic.

Unlike him.

As he stands up on weak legs to drink some tap water in the bathroom, he glances at Jamie's half of their shared space. The last time Derek appeared in his sleep, Jamie woke him up, sat with him, talked to him, made the experience's aftermath a fraction more bearable. She isn't awake now.

Maybe this time Nathan didn't talk, or spoke too softly for her to notice. Maybe she has sunken further into dreams of her own, exhausted by the mental demands of the past couple days.

Either way, she lies there fast asleep. Tranquil. Peaceful.

Dead to the world.