By the time Nick turned to face the wendigo, the creature was already off the ground and in the air, pouncing like a cat coming in for the kill. He might have had all the best intentions in the world -- of getting this kid help, of finding a way to rid him of the god's corruption before he lost his life along with his humanity -- but when it came down to the wire and he had only a split second to react, Nick fell back on old instincts. There was no fighting them sometimes, even if they weren't truly his to begin with.

The real Nick Valentine had been a hell of a cop, one who fought to protect others and sought justice when no one else would, but even he'd known when there was no turning back from a fight. The synthetic Nick knew it just as well, those old memories programmed into him, influencing his every action, guiding his every move. The world was often kill or be killed, and as much as Nick liked to believe there was always another option, sometimes things just ended up in a mess anyway: the pieces didn't fit, things fell apart, and people died no matter how damn hard he tried to avoid it.

And so, in the instant before the wendigo collided with him, his claws reaching, ready to tear the synth apart, Nick brought his pistol up, aimed it at the former human -- someone cursed to be a monster through no fault of his own, someone who hadn't chosen to be that way -- and fired.