'What?
A choice?
Between saving two people?
Just let one die?
That isn't a choice!'
Nick shook with a mixture of pure hatred and pain, his wide eyes staring unbelievably as he watched Juliana die.
Ethos twisted his arm and clenched his fist, causing even more internal damage. A soft gasp escaped Juliana's lips, but it was drowned by the squelching sound of her crushed organs.
The [Fang of Finality] dropped from Nick's hand and clattered against the ground.
'A choice?!
There was no choice here...
It was only a nightmare...
A darkness clouded Nick's vision, a disbelief, a will to imagine this to be false. To find a reality that was kinder to him, even if it was fake. One where choices like this didn't exist, where he didn't have to choose between 2 people dying.
The scene before him crumbled into the only safe space for a Progenitor: their Nightmare.
The desolate gravesite and his dying friends turned into the hospital. This time, he was in front of room 264C.
It was the same room his father had died in.
...
[5 years ago]
[Approaching room 264C]
Nick followed the nurse, simultaneously walking in a hurry while trying to stay in place as if he wanted to see his father in his final moments, but at the same time scared of what he'd find.
All of his life, his father had been strong. When his mother died, Nick's dad stepped up and took care of him. Even when her parents completely cut them out of their life.
There was never a time he could definitively say that his father looked weak. But now... Nick could already hear the painful groans of someone who was about to die. He could see the pale skin, feel the fragile touch.
Yet Nick was the one already crying, already showing that outward weakness.
He stood outside the door for a second, leaning on the wall. After taking a few calming breaths, he wiped his eyes with his shirt and then just stood there.
Staring at the door dejectedly. Wondering if he could be strong enough to open it. But his father had been strong enough to cling onto some infinitesimally small thread of life... he could be strong enough to open the door.
"Whenever you're ready. He's in there, and I'm sure he wants to see you."
Rachel, his father's nurse, said with a small smile. It wasn't the openly energetic one she held when cleaning or caring for patients or talking about her day. It was a small, considerate one that wanted to alleviate pain but couldn't because she felt it as well.
She had spent the last month getting to know them as well. Out of all of the patients in the hospital, they were probably her favorite. Heck, she even asked his father for dating advice a few times.
Everyone was losing today.
"Yeah." Nick choked out as he reached to touch the doorknob, his feeble hands falling against it but applying no pressure. All he had to do was simply turn it, but he was completely still, a statue.
He felt Rachel's light touch against his shoulder, and then she put her hand over Nick's and helped him open the door.
Sunlight shone through the room, so much that it dwarfed the overhead lights. Its warmth cast the darkest shadow imaginable. Days spent outside hiking or picnicking or playing catch flooded through Nick's mind.
His father had a few years on him, so he was always more athletic. The first up the trail, the first to set up camp, the first to wake up in the morning, several hours before Nick so that he could pack all their necessities.
Now...
Dammit!!! Fucking dammit!!!
Nick stood in the doorway, shaking too violently to take another step. He grabbed a handful of his jeans to try and still himself, but the situation was too much to bear.
Rachel slid past him, her glistening eyes looking down to the floor.
"Sir-" She tried to speak, but her voice caught in her throat. "Ahem," she said, gathering in a deep yet shaky breath as she held one of her hands over her heart.
"S- Adam, y-you're son's here."
Adam was far too weak to move. Still, as he stared at the ceiling, he smiled. He had been able to hang on just a little longer.
Nick still stood in the doorway, unable to move after seeing such a horrible sight no one should have to see.
'He was supposed to get better... he was supposed to get better dammit! W-we're supposed to be baking cookies tomorrow, remember!'
Nick was paralyzed by the weight of those false promises. The cancer wasn't anything too new. His dad was fighting it off for over a year now, but...
He had beaten it! A few months ago he beat it...
Then came the scare a month later. The sudden return of the cancer and the awful deadline–that he only had 6 months left to live. Six months was nothing.
Two weeks ago, Nick allowed himself some hope, though. His father had returned to his old, energetic self, seemingly completely beating the cancer yet again. Plans were even made, parties organized.
The next morning he was rushed to the hospital. Ever since he only grew weaker and weaker.
Now here he was, a fragile ghost of the man who was. The strongest person Nick ever knew, an anchor of his life, reduced to a man barely clinging to life.
But that wasn't the worst part–the worst part was that Nick knew he was far stronger even now. Looking at his father, he saw a man smiling through the pain, finding small forms of solace in death. Nick was in shambles, doing his best to keep from crying but failing miserably.
"Hey. You ok, champ?"
Adam's soft voice was barely intelligible due to how raspy it was. Somehow, it seemed to give Nick a little strength. Slowly, he walked around his father's bed and sat on the guest chair.
Then he whispered, "No."
But now that he was in his father's line of vision, he couldn't cry anymore. Nick had forced his eyes to dry, to act like a dam holding back an entire ocean. His father was strong, so he was going to be just as strong if not more.
"It's ok. You're strong. You'll be ok."
'Why is he the one assuring me? He's the one hurting, the one dying! I- I should be the one comforting him! What the hell's wrong with me!' Nick shook violently in the chair, unable to stop his body from trembling. It took all of his willpower not to cry, but he still couldn't stop the involuntary reflexes of grief. Gripping the chair with an iron grip, he forced himself to at least remain still.
Rachel stood silently in the corner, looking around for anything she could do to help. She quickly busied herself, finding things to clean or maintain. Anything to keep her mind off such a scene.
"Son?"
A single word, filled with nothing more than a complete love unbounded in strength. A single word that shattered the dam Nick was already failing to maintain.
Rivers of tears fell down his face as he shuddered and cried, pleading, "I don't want you to die! I-it's so unfair I'm sorry I tried being strong but I can't I- I can't!!!"
His violent outburst fell into quiet whimpers as he buried his face in his hands.
A dark silence fell over the room for a second. And then a strong, weakened voice whispered,
"It'll be ok. I'm- I'm so proud of you. After I tell your mom all of our stories... she'll be proud too."
Then, the last bit of strength left in the room disappeared. Adam had held on all he could've, as long as possible, so that he could hear his son one last time. Even though the present was filled with nothing but pain, he fell asleep knowing that in some future, everything would be ok.
His rest was peaceful. He fell asleep shortly after telling Nick he was proud, and then the next morning, he was officially announced as dead.
Nick didn't leave the chair that entire night and the next day. Not even to eat or drink, no matter how much Rachel or any of the other nurses tried to convince him.
He was simply empty. The pride his father felt wasn't something Nick shared. He was going to college to become a doctor, and for what? When it mattered most, nothing he had done mattered.
The only person he loved died in a hospital, and he couldn't do anything about it.
What was there to be prideful about?
...
[Present day]
Nick's hand fell from the handle, hanging limp at his side.
He couldn't see his father again, not yet. Not until the pride his father felt was actually earned.
And if he just hid in his nightmare while his friends died, just to live on with some fake version of them all because he was too weak AGAIN...
No, that wasn't an option.
He wasn't entirely sure how he was going to do it, but as the Nightmare crumbled, Nick vowed to save both Juliana and Amelia.
Ethos wasn't going to have his way. Nick was going to fight, and he was going to kill the boss. He was going to clear the dungeon–every dungeon. He was going to conquer the game and become so powerful that nothing could hurt him or those he loved.
He was never going to feel as powerless as the day he saw his father die.
Never again.