Superstitious morons believe that if you die in your dreams, you'll die in real life. Nathan spits on that notion — he's done enough dying in both to know it just isn't true. But he's still working on that whole shadow thing, not sacrificing people just because he's immortal. So despite everything, that irrational fear takes hold. Victor is probably going to die. Even if he can repair himself, it's a dream, maybe the rules don't work the same way— "Fucking idiot," Nathan growls. "Are you mentally deficient? You've got to wake up."

He grabs Victor's arm with one blood-slick hand and tries to drag him along to the door. A mistake, as they're both unsteady on their feet to say the least.

"Wake up," he repeats, voice growing weaker. "I was only joking about having superhero dreams, alright, this isn't the time to do hero shit."

Nathan knows he's got one foot in the grave and it's just a matter of falling the rest of the way in at this point. He's familiar enough with the process to know he's not got much time. Maybe he'll be stuck in an endless loop unless Victor wakes up first — swear to god, if he comes back to life in this dream and has to fight robo-bitch again, he's never going to sleep again. "Wake. The fuck. Up." All Nathan knows for certain is that he's going to get very, very drunk after all this is over, and Robocop better tag along.