Return to Camelot
Nate stared in horror as the flash of temporal lightning struck Ray. He was still moving toward the ship and Nate vaulted toward Ray, straining to reach him. Mick gave him a few more feet of distance, gripping the bar by the opening, while holding Nate's wrist and stretching them further out the bay doors.
It wasn't enough. Ray looked at Nate in complete panic as their hands missed each other, and he fell in a head-over-heels spin. "Ray! RAY!! Nate fought to free himself and go after Ray, but Mick tightened his grip and yanked him back away from the door. "Let go! I can't leave him out there alone!"
"No!" Mick shouted.
Nate glared, and his vision flashed red. He felt his body harden to stronger-than-steel. "Mick, you son of a-"
"No, Pretty!" Mick still gripped Nate's arms, even though Nate could have ripped him in two. "You don't know where you'll end up. Gideon's fried! Without you, we'll never get him back!"
Nate choked out a sob, and the steel gave way to flesh as rage was replaced with grief. When the sound of Ray's panicked breathing cut off, he lost it. He sank to the floor, sobbing inconsolably.
Mick never loosened his grip on Nate's arms. He sank to the floor with Nate and pulled him close - letting Nate cry into his leather jacket, but never saying a word.
After the initial wave of grief and rage subsided, Nate pulled away and looked at Mick. The other man's eyes were red, and he looked away the instant Nate looked at him. Nate got up and stumbled away from the cargo bay, choking up again when he heard Mick close the cargo bay doors. He heard Sara and the others through comms, asking if they were okay, and he ripped the ear piece out and tossed it away.
He stumbled to the Ready Room, as he and Ray called Sara's office. He grabbed the fullest bottle of liquor he could find, tucked himself into a corner on the floor and thought about Ray. Why? Why Ray, why why, why?
Nate wasn't sure when he fell in love with Ray. The first time he'd met the man in person, Ray had been a bearded wild man seen through the haze of a migraine and uncontrollable nausea. But just a little while later, even though he'd spent six months living alone in a time when no human had any right to be, he'd taken the time to help out the new guy. He'd endeared himself to Nate in that moment, and Nate's affection for him had only grown deeper since then.
Ray had given up his chance to be a "real" superhero to help Nate. Then, almost immediately, he'd been forced to teach Nate to destroy his life's work, and the one thing he thought made him valuable to the team - after diving out of the ship to save Nate in the first place.
Nate had honestly lost count of how many times Ray had saved his life, and vice versa. But it had never been about keeping score. It was about doing what was best for Ray, and for the team. And when those things were in conflict, Nate would choose Ray every time. Camelot had shown him that, in a way. Although his reasoning had been - Ray is part of the team, and we need to help him - he knew if no one else had agreed to come, he would have fought by his friend's side and stayed stranded with him in wildly inaccurate to the time period fantasy world without a single instant of regret.
Maybe that was when he guessed? But nothing seemed to be on the table other than friendship. Nate had assumed that was all Ray wanted from him, and that was all he wanted from Ray. He'd never once tried to reach for more. Never once asked if Ray wanted more. Not even when he thought he could see hints that Ray might want more.
That kiss at his dad's service. The longer-than-normal pauses when Ray seemed like he might be about to say one thing, but chose to say another. Or looking over to see Ray watching him with an intense expression, but have it change to a friendly smile as soon as Nate looked. Those kinds of "signs" had been happening much more frequently in the weeks since Nate and Z had broken up, but Nate still never pushed past his own uncertainty and asked.
Now, he knew, without a shred of doubt. After all the years of adventuring together, the pain of losing Amaya (twice!), the pain of letting go of Z, the anguish of almost losing Ray to a "normal" life with Nora - after all that, it took this nightmare to bring the truth home to Nate, but now he knew.
It was Ray. It had always been Ray, and there would never be anyone but Ray. And now that he knew it, Ray was gone.
Tears rolled down Nate's cheeks, and he felt sick to his stomach, worse than any time jump. He sat on the Ready Room floor, holding the now half-empty bottle of whiskey in one hand, staring at nothing, eyes blurred with tears. The horrifying moment came back to him again. Ray's outstretched hand a fraction of an inch too far away. Ray's terrified face. The awful moment when Ray's comms cut off. Steeling up on Mick and barely managing to keep from ripping his head off. It all played over and over and over and over again, leaving Nate paralyzed.
Sara and Ava had come to try to snap him out of it. Z had tried, too. Ray had been lost in time before - more than once. If anyone could handle himself in any part of history, it was definitely Ray.
But they didn't understand. They hadn't seen all of Ray, not the way Nate had. Ray tended to keep his positive face forward for them. But with Nate, and many times with Mick, Ray could talk about the things that made it hard to keep that happy smile up some days.
They didn't know how devastated he'd been that moment when the ship took off and couldn't come back for them in '58. The terrible hurt and anxiety he felt when Sara left them, and when Kendra seemed to encourage him to give up his hope of rescue instead of holding tight to that hope like a lifeline. The others never heard Ray talk about the unspeakable loneliness he'd endured for six months in a time where there were literally no other humans in existence.
They weren't around for the time they finally got Mick to join movie night and tried to watch "The Martian". It was a few months after Nate's grandfather died - and Ray had almost been stranded with Thawne on the moon. They hadn't been there to see the ever-cheerful Ray in cold sweats, nearly hyperventilating, utterly shocked by his own reaction. It had taken a group hug, followed by Nate keeping his arms around Ray while Mick pumped him full of alcohol to calm Ray down again. Nate wasn't sure Ray could take being stranded out there alone - not again.
At some point, Mick came in and sat beside Nate on the floor. Nate was distracted from the visual loop by Mick snatching the whiskey from his hand and putting the bottle down. "Nathaniel." Nate looked at Mick, stunned not only to hear his own name from the man for the first time... literally ever, but also to see that Mick's eyes were shining. "He needs you."
Nate frowned, blinking past tears. "I know that! You-"
"So find him!" It had come out a growl, but his eyes were pleading. "Find. Haircut."
Nate took a breath, brushed tears from his eyes and nodded. He remembered a time, more than four years ago, when Mick had made a similar request from the bottom of the ocean. Then, it had practically been a command. Now, it was a desperate plea. "Okay, Mick. Okay. I will."