Nate's vision was blurring, tunneling and blackening around the edges. He hadn't a damn care about what was to happen to him next. He was going to let things operate around him, go with the flow of it all, so to speak. He wasn't the type to off himself, at least the dementia hadn't suggested it yet, thankfully. Didn't change the fact that Nate didn't very much care for himself anymore. There wasn't a reason to fight anymore.

Which was why he allowed Isaac to move him around, like a ragdoll. He was deadweight, for the most part, aside from occasional squirms of discomfort. Somewhere halfway into their shared trek down the hallway, Nate suddenly tuned back into the action. Like a switch flipped in his head.

"Where are you taking me," He asked, weakly and almost disinterested. It wasn't that, though. He simply lacked energy to shout anymore. Everything started to catch up to him now that someone else was supporting his body. The adrenaline, what had been pushing him to continue on for hours now, was wearing off. Even if he cared about his ultimate destination, it didn't necessarily mean he cared enough to fight. "I thought you had someplace to be."