Chapter Text
The rain is relentless, but comforting. It pelts against the window and hammers on the roof. Lying awake and listening to the rain is much nicer than lying awake and listening to the silence.
Silence gives you room to think. To start worrying and to start questioning everything you thought you were sure of.
But the rain is nice. Soothing. Even if the wind is a little spooky, whistling as it whips around the walls of the cabin. It's a little spooky, but it's still nicer than the silence. Silence can be creepy, which is somehow worse. It makes you feel alone. It makes you unsure, suddenly, of what you thought you knew. Small, insignificant noises are suddenly loud and real and scary. Creaking of wood, or an animal outside, or even your own quiet breathing - the silence amplifies it, makes it frightening, somehow.
The rain and the wind blocks out the noises that could be scary. It gives you a rock, an anchor. A blanket to hide under. It covers the sound of footsteps outside that makes you wonder if you are perhaps not as alone as you thought you were.
It covers the sound of somebody knocking on the door at some time past midnight. Or it tries to, at least.
David holds his breath.
The rain is loud, and the wind is howling, and he isn't sure if he heard somebody knocking or if it was just his imagination.
The storm is loud, so it's hard to tell.
He tells himself he imagined it, because he really doesn't want to get out of bed to answer the door. If somebody did knock, well, it's probably one of the campers. Maybe one of them woke up from a nightmare and came to the counselors' cabin in need of some comfort. It couldn't be anyone else, right? There is no one else out here.
It doesn't matter. He probably just imagined it.
So he goes back to staring at the ceiling. But lying awake in a storm is a whole lot more unnerving when you're not sure whether or not somebody just knocked on the door. So he pulls the blanket tighter around himself and decides that, if someone did knock, they can go away.
Because he's asleep, and he didn't hear it, of course. Not because he's too afraid to check and see if there's anyone at the door.
Whatever, whatever. He's overthinking it. It was probably just the wind being loud and making him think he heard a knock. It wasn't exactly a distinct sound. Just a vague 'somebody could be knocking at the door but also it might just be the storm' sort of noise.
The second knock is distinct, and it makes David jump. Less than five minutes have passed since the first 'could be a knock but could be the wind' noise. This time, it's definitely not the wind. It's three clear, obvious knocks. A polite sort of knocking sound, perhaps the kind you'd expect to hear in a hotel before they announce that the room service person is here to clean your room.
David sits up, shaking his head slightly to rid himself of nonsensical thoughts about room service. It's late. He's tired, and he wants to lie awake and think about happy things. Well, actually, he wants to sleep, but sleep doesn't come easily for him, and lying awake thinking about happy things is the next best thing. He wants to do that. He doesn't want to answer the door.
But if it's a camper, and they need him to help them or comfort them, well... it's his duty. It's his responsibility. He can't shun his responsibilities just because the thought of answering the door at some late, spooky hour in the middle of a storm spooks him out a bit.
If Gwen was awake, she'd tell him that he's being silly, and that he needs to answer the door right now.
Actually, she probably won't use the word 'silly', but that would be her general point.
David stands up, and slowly walks over to the door.
On his way, he picks up a can of bug spray.
He feels stupid about it, and he really probably shouldn't feel the need to defend himself right now, and it isn't exactly pepper spray; but he also feels uneasy, and it's kind comforting, the thought that if somebody's here to attack him he can bug spray them in the face.
Why someone would be here to attack him, he has no clue, but when it's like two a.m. and the wind is literally howling, perspective is lost and suddenly things seem a lot bigger and scarier than they are.
His left arm is numb from lying in a weird position, so he holds the bug spray in his right hand, feeling like a bit of an idiot.
"Who's there?" he asks quietly when he reaches the door. The only answer is the sound of the rain thundering against the roof.
Slowly he opens the door, still feeling like an idiot, because it's probably just a camper who had a nightmare, and- why is he feeling so uneasy, again? Why is he holding bug spray like it's the only thing that's going to keep him alive in this moment in time? Why is he being so-
The person at the door isn't a camper.
At first he's barely recognisable. David lifts the stupid bug spray can slightly. He starts to ask a question. "Who are-?"
And then he realises, and David drops the bug spray. It hits the floor with a metallic sort of thump and rolls across the floor in a half-hearted circle, eventually coming to a stop at David's foot. He bends down to pick it up, just in case, trying not to take his eyes off the person at the door. David opens his mouth to say something, anything, but he can't think what. In the end he shakes his head slightly. He speaks uncertainly. "Daniel?"
It wasn't supposed to sound like a question. He knows that face. It's Daniel, of course it is. And yet David still sounded so unsure. It was supposed to be a statement, a greeting, even. Not a question. Not something so small and scared and completely devoid of confidence.
Not that it matters, of course.
And Daniel hardly looks like himself, anyway. His clothes are wet and clinging to his skin, torn in places, muddy in others. A little blood, here and there. And his hair is soaked, too, so much so that it's slightly darker than usual, dripping, hanging in his face. He looks exhausted. There are dark circles under his eyes, and- his eyes, they seem dull, lifeless, almost, like he's reached his limit and can't physically keep going. There's a distance in his eyes, like his mind isn't really here.
"Sorry," Daniel says, slowly, as if speaking is taking a lot of effort that he'd rather not make. "I didn't know where else to go."
And with that, he stumbles forward, and collapses into David's arms. The bug spray falls to the floor again, and David stares at it as it rolls a little way away.
David doesn't know what to do, or how to react, or what to even think. So he just stands in the doorway for a minute, Daniel slumped, unconscious, against him. Only when he realises that the rain is coming in and forming a small puddle on the floor does he realise that he should probably move. Or, at least, try to move, but it's a little difficult, because he's pretty much frozen in fear and confusion.
Okay, this is okay. This is going to be okay. Just... put Daniel down, and then shut the door. Okay.
Finally David manages to make himself move. He drags Daniel over to the bed and lays him down, and then goes to shut the door, grabbing a box of tissues from the desk and throwing some at the now wet and muddy floor in front of the door. Hopefully they'll soak up most the water. He can sort it out properly later, though. Right now, he needs to focus on making sure that Daniel isn't dead or dying.
Taking a few deep breaths to steady himself, David takes some clean towels from his drawer and goes to sit on the bed. His mind swims with questions.
What the hell is Daniel doing here? And why does he look so terrible? And why was he out in the storm in the first place, and-
David takes another deep breath.
It doesn't matter right now. Hopefully he'll be able to get some answers later - but right now, he needs to focus on making sure Daniel is okay.
So David carefully takes Daniel's drenched shirt off, and drapes a soft towel over him like a blanket. He uses another towel to gently dry Daniel's soaking hair.
It's hard to get him fully dry, because the bedsheets are soaked now too, but David does his best. He knows that Daniel can't stay in soaking wet clothes, so he removes them and finds some clean dry clothes to change him into, hoping desperately that Daniel won't be mad that David undressed him. It's a little embarrassing, but it's better than Daniel getting hypothermia or something.
Once David's done, he's thoroughly exhausted, but at least Daniel is in warm, comfy clothes. Now he just has to change the bedsheets so Daniel has somewhere warm and dry to rest.
He's relieved to find that the water hasn't actually gone all the way through into the sheets, so he only needs to find a dry comforter and a blanket, and maybe a pillowcase too.
David carefully lifts Daniel and moves him onto an armchair whilst he fixes the bed. And when he's done with that, he transfers Daniel back to the bed, pulling the covers over him, making sure he's warm. Throughout the whole process, Daniel doesn't stir.
When he's finished getting Daniel sorted out, David turns to his own clothes. They're soaked now too, from the rain, or from carrying Daniel to the bed, or both. He dries off and changes quickly, before curling up on the armchair with a blanket.
For once, sleep comes easily.