With Ambrose at the apartment, Nick slipped out to go and talk to Dan, though he was doing so under the guise of getting a few things at the store. Which meant he was going to raid the mortuary for whatever he supposedly bought. But Nick knew Dan wasn't aware of what was really going on, and the man deserved to know.
And maybe he could spare Sabrina some of the grief of having to tell him, even if his own emotions were still raw, everything having been dredged back up so soon after his own memory update.
Dan knew to meet him, so Nick wasn't concerned that he wouldn't be there. And sure enough, there he was in the kitchen, seemingly the location of all their conversations.
"Hey," he greeted, but his voice came out quieter than anticipated, and he was suddenly tired, not realizing that this was the first time he was even thinking about confronting his own feelings outside of the apartment since they'd moved in.
The mortuary felt - well, it felt empty without Nick and Sabrina. And Roz. Not just because their physical bodies had all vacated (along with their familiars - well, at the very least the place was less allergy-inducing) but because Dan cared about all of them and he knew they were gone because of something painful, something bad. He could sense the pain too - separation, anxiety, it was closing in on him because he didn’t know what happened. An elephant on his chest, making it hard to breathe - he was still telepathically connected to Sabrina, somewhat, though he didn’t intrude on her thoughts even if he wanted to. Just to put the pieces together.
No, of course not. He simply felt her anguish - a hot knife covered in salt, slicing into them both. To say Dan was worried - well, that didn’t even really cover even a fraction of it.
But Nick had stopped by, leaving the solace of Morningside, and Dan had a feeling it was because he wanted to talk. So he waited, until he saw Nick walk in - then he rose from the kitchen table, where he’d been sitting with a cup of coffee and no actual food. He would have just picked at it anyway. “Hey,” he echoed, stepping forward - he didn’t sweep Nick up into a hug right away, didn’t want to smother him. But he did squeeze his shoulder, reaching out for human contact, before Dan pulled back and pulled out a chair for him.
“Can I get you anything? I made coffee.”
Dan may not have wanted to smother Nick, but he didn't mind, and when Dan pulled away Nick went in for a full hug. He just needed it, even if he normally wasn't the sort to seek one out. It had been a long week, and he'd been there for Sabrina every step of the way. But he was drained, so he hugged Dan before sitting down, tired but grateful to not be on his own while Ambrose visited Sabrina. Then realized he hadn't gotten himself coffee yet.
"Yeah, I'll take a cup," he said, not even making an effort to try and stand.
"Didn't know if you knew what was going on or not," he added. Because as exhausting as it was to talk about, Dan deserved to know.
Dan hadn’t been expecting that hug but that didn’t mean it was unwelcome - just the opposite, in fact. He returned it full force - not one of those stupid ‘I’m just going to slap your back because it’s not manly to hug’ types of deals. No, he squeezed Nick and poured plenty of affection into it - because sometimes you just needed a hug, damnit. Maybe he was technically an adult, maybe he was grown - but no matter how old you were, sometimes you also just needed your mom too. Or your dad. A parent. Someone who loved you.
There had been plenty of times he wished his father would have hugged him but those days were all dusty and long gone - this was what he had now. A couple of kids who were clearly hurting so he would be there for them.
“I’ve got it,” he assured, pouring himself a refill in his usual cup and grabbing one for Nick. The scent of fresh coffee wafted beneath their noses when he sat at the table. “And - no. I really...have no idea what’s going on. Sabrina just said it was a memory update. She told me about the last one so I can maybe guess what happened now, but...”
He sighed, hands wrapped around the mug. And he braced himself. “If you think you can tell me, I’d like to know.” Of course he wouldn’t force it but - he was drowning in worry and someone please just fill him in.
If there was an easy way to share the news with someone, Nick would have used that. But there wasn't and he took a small sip of coffee before he nodded at Dan. When he spoke up, his voice was as tired as it had ever been, but he minced no words.
"We were fighting the eldritch terrors, and we won. Saved the world. But to do that, we let Sabrina sacrifice herself because why? Somehow the fate of the world was left to her? Everything she'd done before somehow wasn't enough? She shouldn't have had to die, but we let her die anyway."
He stared down into the mug, not looking at Dan. He didn't want to tell him what came next, but at the same time he didn't want to give Dan only part of the picture even if that was more than enough to focus on. But eventually, he expected, or at least hoped, that Sabrina would turn to Dan. So he mumbled out the worst confession he could possibly imagine, his throat tightening as if merely speaking the words aloud had the power to choke him. "And I decided I didn't want to live without her."
Nick didn’t need to say exactly what he’d done - Dan got the picture. It was heartbreaking, to hear that he’d been correct in his assumption that something had happened to Sabrina - he very much doubted that Nick and the others let her die, however. That wasn’t something he should blame himself for - but he knew that was easier said than done; the blame always had to go somewhere, in an effort to understand what had happened.
What was also heartbreaking was that this was some kind of Romeo and Juliet situation - that suicide was clearly a factor, and they were both so young. It twisted up Dan’s heart, made him feel like the muscle-organ was wrapped up in vines.
Jesus. What could he even say? It wasn’t okay, it wasn’t fine - death was real damn hard to accept and when it was so unfair like this, every bit of you wanted to reject it. “It’s going to take you both some time,” he started, reaching across the table and placing a warm hand on the bones of Nick’s wrist. “To process this. To know that you have a future here. That all hope isn’t lost - it’s not, but. It will take some time. I’m here for whatever you need during that.”
Nick nodded slightly, looking at Dan's hand on his wrist. Outside of Ambrose and Sabrina, this was the first time he'd told anyone everything, and Dan was offering support, not criticism, not anger… He swallowed hard and then said, "Yeah. I had this happen the day you all disappeared into the past."
He'd been processing since, but now that Sabrina knew, everything was raw again.
"Our future was always here. Only now, there's no longer a choice."
“If it’s any comfort, you can choose how you build your own future here - what you do and how you live your lives. There are still things we have control of in this world,” Dan encouraged gently. He patted Nick’s hand before leaning back in his seat, picking up his coffee mug again. He needed the solace of the heat, the hot drink, so he didn’t feel so damn cold - that cold felt like it had seeped into his bones, swallowing his whole world in one gulp.
Because the thought of losing them - it wasn’t something he wanted to consider. The idea of Vallo blipping them away, only to return home to die? No way. This was home.
“I can’t imagine having to sit on that for so long,” he added, tone quiet and thoughtful. “You both have all the info now, at least. And - I love you both. You know that.” Suicide wasn’t a heroic thing, it wasn’t good - and the state Nick must have been in to consider that as his only option, it was even beyond rock bottom. He could see why Sabrina was angry - did no one think to check on him after she died?
But on his end, Dan wasn’t really angry per se. He wasn’t going to scold Nick for something like that - it wasn’t a choice he’d make with the life he had now, and it had to be hard as hell to know that he made it once before, that he felt as if he had no one to support him or be there for him in his grief. That wasn’t the case anymore.
"I hate that I did it," Nick said quietly. He didn't feel like explaining that weird afterlife that he didn't fully understand himself. "I love Sabrina, but she would have wanted me to wait before reuniting with her." Except she hadn't cared. Everything about that place had been off and it would never sit right with Nick.
He frowned. "Ambrose and I guess Zelda both know. Roz doesn't, that I know of." He looked at Dan, finally meeting his eyes again. "Sabrina's upset, but not with you." He wanted to repeat Dan's words back to him, but there was something in the way Dan was like a dad to him that made it harder. Because he hadn't had that in his life for so long that it was foreign and unfamiliar.
"Thank you." Those two words summed up more than he could express. But he had someone he could talk to, and who he felt comfortable opening up to. That all added up. "I don't know when we'll be back, just that Sabrina needed some space to process."
For obvious reasons, it had been a lot.
There was no pressure to say the words back - Dan wasn’t expecting anything, he simply wanted to be honest. And for them both to know he was going to be there for them, whenever they needed him - he’d talk if they wanted or he’d listen, he’d do his best to give them space while also making himself available. It was a challenge, don’t get him wrong - because he wished he could just fix everything. But he couldn’t.
“You can take as much time as you need,” he said, softly clearing his throat - emotion felt like it’d gotten stuck there. Some kind of frog that refused to vacate, or bone or burrs. It was unable to be helped because, fuck, they were just kids - Eldritch terrors and all this death and loss and being ripped apart, it shouldn’t be happening.
The unfortunate truth though, was that it did happen (and boy, did he know a thing or two about fucked up childhoods and not actually being allowed to have one). In another world, yes, however the feelings associated with their other selves were still woven into who they were here. “I told her to let me know if you decide to stay much longer and she said she would. But whenever you’re ready to come back, we’ll be glad to see you. It’s not - it’s not like it is there. You both have support.”
"I know," Nick said. "If it weren't for you and Allison, Ambrose, Roz, and a couple other people, I probably would have lost it when everyone disappeared. But he'd had Ambrose and Allison and Margo, with Dan, Roz, and Regina in the past with Sabrina. That had kept him sane enough.
They’d be okay - Dan knew that. It felt insurmountable now, but grief always did when it was fresh - like a shock running along skin, across the shoulders and down. Everywhere, everywhere a current could travel - in the beginning it seemed as if there was no escape but eventually that abated. It just took some time.
“Well, I’d be pretty lost without you all too,” he admitted, and Dan meant that. His nightmares involved suddenly finding them gone, beds empty - Vallo doing its thing again, and he’d see their names on a disappearance list. There probably was no getting around that fear - but he could manage it to the best of his ability.
Another mouthful of coffee went down the hatch. “Want me to find some things you can bring back to Morningside? I guess - if you were supposed to be shopping.” He probably had a ‘plastic bag inside other bags’ collection around here somewhere. Because that was an old person thing to do.
"Good thing we're all here then," Nick said, meaning it. "Vallo really is home." He checked his phone and nodded. "Yeah, I'd better do some 'shopping' to make it believable." Not that Sabrina would even notice if he didn't come back with anything, but there was part of him that hoped she would. That she'd be feeling better and more aware of her surroundings. The grief had hit her hard, and he couldn't fault her.
It wasn't that he was done processing everything, or had even really started. But Nick had to focus on their future in Vallo to keep himself sane. And he believed there was one. Somewhere in the past few months, his doubts had started to vanish. He was going to stay by Sabrina's side until she got there again too.
"Thanks, Dan," he said again.
“Of course - anytime,” Dan nodded, managing a small smile. He was fully aware that Sabrina would probably guess that Nick hadn’t really gone shopping - but that was okay. Maybe it would mean she was coming out of the haze, the fog that he’d seen her in when he visited the apartment. It was concerning - but he’d left there knowing that he couldn’t push anything faster than necessary. Not that he would do that anyway.
In either case, she was probably angry enough at her aunts and felt like they let her down - he didn’t want to ruin things on his end too, by not giving her the space she needed.
So when he got up, it was to stock Nick with plenty of groceries - things they could make simple things with, sandwiches and the like, and if he added some containers of homemade meals-to-go he made too, well. Hopefully that would get eaten. If he couldn’t do anything else right now, he would make damn sure he kept them well fed and watered. Anything for the kids he’d come to call family.
Nick had expected far less, just enough to show off a couple of bags, giving the illusion of having shopped. Dan apparently had other ideas. And when he'd finished, Nick thanked him once more, and then went in for another hug. Somehow everything felt a little easier to contend with after this visit. It was one thing to know they weren't alone. It was another thing to see it.
There was no hesitation on Dan’s end, about returning the hug - he’d send Nick off with plenty of groceries and also the reassurance that he did care, that it wasn’t just a ‘well, you’re with Sabrina so by default I’m going to look after you’ sort of thing. No, he saw Nick as a separate person - someone with his own thoughts and feelings, and he definitely didn’t deserve the fate of cutting his life short with no one to help him make better decisions, or support his trek through grief.
Dan squeezed him again, making sure he was well laden down with groceries for the trip back to Morningside. “Take care,” he added as a parting note, and they’d all see each other again soon - it would just take some time. Like always.