Chapter Text
After excusing himself, Nate stumbled towards the forest. Nobody noticed he did not go to the Waverider but passed it. Only Amaya saw it; the others assumed Nate was feeling ill and that he was going to his room to sleep it off and that he'd be feeling fine after a couple of days.
The stars watched as he walked unevenly, clutching his stomach with one hand. Nate knew where the aching came from, but that did not mean it was any less unpleasant. His vision became unreliable and blurry and he nearly bumped into a tree. There was this ringing in his ears he couldn't get rid of. He missed a step and fell on his stomach, not putting much effort into breaking his fall.
Nate then emptied his stomach before attempting to stand up again. His legs were unsteady and he was light-headed. He may pass out soon, but dared not to give in – he did not want his legs to give way again. It was warm suddenly and he sloppily took off his jacket, exposing his sweaty arms and neck to the cold breeze. His body was burning up, his stomach was upset and breathing became more painful with each breath.
How long ago did he wander off? Nate wasn't sure. The fall and fever and messed up his already messed-up sense of time. Ten minutes? Half an hour? Maybe even two hours? They were all possible. His fever brain insisted there still wasn't enough distance between him and the other Legends. Why did there need to be a distance? Nate wouldn't be able to give a clear answer, but he knew he needed to get further away to satisfy.
"What do you think you're doing?" Nate raised his head as soon as he heard the voice, panic taking over here. They shouldn't be here!
It wasn't a Legend. A dark-haired older woman in a white tunic and a sad expression on her face stood before him. Nate frowned – he almost wanted to address her as mother nature, but that couldn't be right. He connected the dots after a while.
"Phil?"
"You don't need to leave them now," Phil said. Nate shook his head.
"Don't I?" He swallowed down a bit of vomit that rose in his throat. It left a burning sensation, but that was better than throwing up in front of Philotes. Not that he cared. "I can make those decisions for myself."
He couldn't keep it down. For the second time within what could easily be ten minutes or two hours, he threw up. Wasn't it supposed to relieve some pain or even his stomach throwing a fit? Shouldn't he feel at least a little better?
"Don't you want your friends around?" Phil asked. Nate shook his head again, wiping his mouth with his sweaty arm.
"It's better for everyone." Nate truly believed this would be better. Why? He couldn't tell. But his fever brain insisted this was the right way to go about things. His fever brain was wrong.
"Only for you," Phil said as she folded her arms. "You will know what happened, but they won't. They'll look for you and they will find you. They will not know what happened. You'll leave them in uncertainty for the rest of their lives."
"So?" What was so bad about that? At least he wouldn't see their tears and they wouldn't have to witness his death. That was a win-win situation.
"You're not alone," Phil said.
"What if I prefer to be alone right now?" He just wanted to die in peace with nobody around to remind him who he was leaving behind. He should be able to choose how he filled his last moments.
"Liar," Phil said. Her voice was stronger for a moment and the frown on her face said everything he needed to know. "Nobody wants to be alone in their darkest hour."
"Nathaniel?" This time, it was Amaya who called his name from afar. Nate panicked – she shouldn't come, she wasn't supposed to see him like this! He looked at Phil again and she seemed suspiciously happy about Amaya's impending arrival.
"Phil…" he wanted to say more, but nausea overwhelmed him. He may just throw up again.
"I am Friendship," Phil declared. "My gift to you was for your friends to be there in your darkest hour. Hermes may have lifted the champion status off of the Olympian champions, but not yours." And this was his darkest hour – his last moments on Earth.
Nate shook his head once – she had been so helpful before, but now she thwarted him.
"Why?"
"You need this," Phil said. "I will see you on the other side." She turned away from him, and walked away, disappearing as she walked. Nate panicked again – the goddess had left, Amaya came closer with every passing second, and he had no idea what he could do.
"Phil, wait." He'd wanted to shout, but he couldn't - he wouldn't shout ever again.
"Nathaniel." Amaya had arrived. He turned around and pushed himself away from the tree he'd been leaning against to look at her and seem more healthy. He didn't stand stably, but it would have to do for now.
"It's okay," he said, forcing a smile on his face when she rightly was worried about him. His stomach and body wholeheartedly disagreed with him and sent the next wave of burning pain. "I'm fine."
"You're pale," Amaya said (all color had been drained from his face) and she took a couple of steps closer to him. He shrugged it off, but somehow this action imbalanced him.
"Am I now?" he said with a faint smile on his face. "Figures."
The world tilted and Nate lost all feeling in his legs. Before he noticed what was going on, he already was on the ground. Amaya kneeled beside him, a concerned look on her face. If she had shouted his name as he fell, he genuinely hadn't heard it.
With great effort, he pushed himself to sit upright. He may not have the strength to stand anymore, but he wasn't going to just lay down when his legs refused to carry him. He thought it would be better to sit up. It was exhausting but worth it.
"I'll get help," Amaya said. She was about to stand up, but Nata quickly grabbed her arm. He didn't hold her tightly, but it was enough.
"No," he said. "Please stay with me." Amaya nodded and Nate stared at her with tears in his eyes. Phil was right – what kind of person would want to spend their last moments on Earth alone? It scared him. He shouldn't even be afraid. He sort of knew what was coming for him, if he ended up in the Greek Underworld at least. He had never believed in anything religiously – did that mean there even was something for him? Or did he sufficiently believe to enter the Asphodel Fields? Still, it couldn't be great to spend the rest of eternity under a gray sky and a depressing mood.
"What happened?" Amaya then asked him.
"I'm sorry," he said. He was apologizing for his own actions. He couldn't go out without Amaya knowing. "I'm so sorry. Hades wouldn't let go of your soul unless he could claim another."
"Yours," she said as the truth dawned on her.
"You had to live," Nate said, placing a hand on his stomach. The next wave would hit him any second. Or was his stomach just playing games?
"You didn't need to do that," Amaya told him.
"You had to live," Nate repeated. He couldn't stop it now; he developed a nasty couch now and it was bad enough that he barely had time to gasp for breaths in between coughs. Once he was done, a couple of minutes had passed and blood mixed with slime and saliva lay in a small pool next to him.
Great. Another side-effect. Was this one of the last or would more follow? Either way, symptoms were changing and making combinations. His stomach stayed quiet, but he was feeling nauseous and light-headed again. One thing that didn't change was his heavy limbs and that his body was literally burning. If it weren't for his present company, he may also have torn off his other pieces of clothing.
There was a flash of light; the resident speedster had arrived. He must have been looking for Amaya and Nate.
"What the…" Wally couldn't even finish the sentence.
"Get help," Amaya told him, and Wally nodded, speeding off again.
"This is taking longer than I thought," Nate commented.
"He'll get some help," Amaya told him, possibly to comfort him. "You'll be fine."
"I won't," Nate said. Why else wouldn't she have suggested Wally to bring him to the med bay? Why else didn't she just pick him up and bring him there? Hades would have Nate's soul. He had claimed it when he allowed Amaya to return to life. Nothing in this world was going to prevent him from having this soul.
"I don't regret it," Nate then said out of the blue. He didn't have to talk, but he did. Filling the silence with nonsense was better than sitting in silence and agonizing over the little things. It also relieved him only slightly from his pain.
"Nathaniel…" Nate shook his head to shut her up.
"I don't," he repeated. "He'll have my soul. It's fine. I made peace with it." Still, it hurt to leave her and the other Legends behind.
The world spun around him; it was getting harder to breathe. His back and his were also starting to get tired of keeping him seated upright. It was time to lie down for a bit. Which naturally worried Amaya. Yet with a smile – a small and brief smile – it was getting harder to even just smile – he reassured her for a little while.
"Did I ever tell you that you look great?" With this sentence, he succeeded in making Amaya smile one last time for him. It was a nice sight to behold. A sight he could not bear to miss, a sight perfect for a moment like this. one more good memory of her.
But even great memories could grow sour. The pains in his body slowly grew number. Everything was numb. He found he could barely lift his arm anymore and officially could no longer feel his legs. Hades was approaching – no, Thanatos was. Hades did not reap souls, he just ruled over the dead.
What would they tell Hank? What would happen after? How unfortunate he had to pass away right when he and his father were trying to create a meaningful connection again. Hank wouldn't appreciate it.
Nate didn't hear them right away, but footsteps were coming closer, and then stopped. The Legends had arrived.
"What's going on?"
"He's dying."
Someone had asked the question and someone else had answered it. He hadn't seen who had spoken and in his sorry state, he failed the recognize the two masculine voices as John and Ray.
With everything he still had in him, Nate lifted his head to look at the group one last time. They had all come to him, even Constantine. How thoughtful.
"Thanks, guys. For everything," he said. were they able to hear him? Maybe only Amaya could – it came out as a whisper that was also a half-mumble.
"You are not dying here," Sara said, shaking her head, determined not to let this happen, even though she could do nothing about it.
Maybe she had said something else. Maybe she had not. but Nate could not hear it if she had spoken again. His eyes crossed Amaya again – tears streamed down her cheeks as she looked at him. She was sad. That made him sad.
His eyes moved away from the woman he loved and he looked up. His legs had stopped working at a place where the trees were far enough from one another so that he could see the night sky. A million stars, a million white dots in the night sky. Truly a sight to behold.
He breathed in. He counted the constellations. He recognized the big dipper, the little dipper, and more. The stars came closer – or did he go higher? – which made identifying the constellations harder. Soon the stars swarmed around him, spun around him, faster and faster and closer and closer until Nate saw only white.
Then they disappeared. There was only dark.