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Just around six months after the quarry incident.
What doesn’t kill you make you stronger, huh. A way to bullshit yourself out of having to face the fact that you have to relearn how to use your new mechanic palm, replacing the unexpectedly amputated hand.
Losing a hand definitely didn’t strengthen Dylan’s physicl abilities or improved his cooking skills as the Hacketteers liked to preach; So then he expected to gain some kind of mental benefits in return, like strive to host a ted talk, or a podcast and tell his heroic story and have some newfound fans fainting over his courage, but the entirety of the six months was spent trying to catch up on his recovery journey, yet waking up drenched in sweat every night.
It was infuriating to see himself transform into a shell of a human, having his personality ripped away from his cold hands as he felt like he was stuck in a loophole of falling into a void of memories surrounding the damned summer camp. If only he could spend one night without a recurring, hyper-realistic nightmare of him being chewed out and swallowed down by a werewolf.
The first time he experienced something resembling joy again was when the squad finally planned a get-together again. Sure, it was a bit of a sensitive subject, a de’ja vu none of them were keen on experiencing, but instead of a forest with a creepy ghost mother, literal werewolves and a hunter man-child, this time they made a collective decision to stay at Dylan’s. His house was the biggest after Emma’s parents’ home, but she had moved to a flat and required some time to adjust, so Dylan’s crib it was.
This time they passed on truth or dare (and thankfully Nick and Abi had brought much safer, yet engaging board games to compensate), even touched up on some sentimental memories and the total unbelievable and got a laugh or two out of Dylan. All in all, this sleepover they had hosted was mission successful. And after worrying every single day about if they were ever going to see each other again, it was like a breath of fresh air to know this was it. Their friendship had survived the absolute insanity they went through.
Once it was late enough for everyone to find a place to hit the sack (Jacob fell onto the sofa, so unintentionally occupied it, Emma and Ryan settled with the floor, Abi and nick snuck off to a spare bedroom), Dylan headed to his room, having avoided the idea of sleep as much as he could manage. That included proposing the idea of anyone taking his bed, considering gulping down coffee, entertaining himself with a video game for the next half an hour… But he soon felt his eyelids closing, and the embarrassment of being caught having a nightmare near his friends began sizzling out. Dylan crawled into his bed as his head hit the pillow heavily. Exhausted from the variety of feelings the day had brought (mostly good, thankfully), he even considered the thought of maybe not slipping into the terrifying dreamland that night, but that was apparently way too much to ask.
**********************
His heart is racing. Both in the dream, as his body pumps cortisol and adrenalin in his system, and in real life, causing him to feel like he’d been running a marathon for the last hour. And in some sense, he was.
The big, bad dog boy was chasing after him so fast, footsteps so swift yet heavy the ground almost shook beneath him. Dylan ran without looking back even for a second, but the damned wolf wouldn’t leave the corner of his eye, dribbling all over and never taking his bloodshot gaze from his pray. The morbid curiosity of how close his doom was took over Dylan, like it did every single time. He tries to swallow down the feeling of having to puke his guts out from pure terror, turns his head slightly and,- there it is, a dream that was almost rehearsed at this point takes a horrifying turn yet again, the boy misses a thick branch and falls face first into the dirt. This buys just enough time for Silas to make a big jump right onto his torso, and he’s a goner. The last thing Dylan catches a glimpse of are sharp teeth, rapidly approaching him as the smell of blood and death fills the atmosphere. Then he wakes up cursing, instantly trying to lower his voice as well as he could manage. But someone definitely heard anyway, as he heard footsteps approaching his door. Thankfully, it wasn’t Jacob.
‘Sorry, I heard you yell something, I think.’
Raising on his elbows and pulling a smirk to laugh through his visible suffering, Dylan threw his head back, shutting his eyes closed for a second or two.
‘You suuure it wasn’t the pissed off ghost mommy?’ he muttered.
‘Ha ha’ Ryan rolled his eyes, but Dylan noticed his lips stretch out in a smile, ‘I’m concerned for your safety here, don’t play with me. I’m pretty sure I heard you curse your lungs out’
Dylan sighed. ‘Can you close the door?’
‘Wow, oka-‘
‘Close the door behind you, idiot, I’d rather not share the entirety of my daily nightmares with the group that already has to deal with their own shit’ He sat up in the bed, petting the space next to him, ‘but since you so politely asked, yes, I struggle with having to relive the werewolf dream each night. It’s not exactly fictional and fairy tale-y for me to be able to immediately tell I’m in a nightmare as well so… It’s like being back every night’
Ryan slowly approached the bed, looking at the lamp emitting warm light in the room.
‘I know what you mean. I haven’t been sleeping so soundly for the past six months either. It’s been hell, actually, so much so that I even tried meditation. But that’s a secret that dies with us.’ They both chuckled.
‘I’m just ashamed that I’m so scared of it’ Dylan spoke up after a calm pause, ‘of this whole fuckery being… in me, forever’ he shook his head, looking down at his hand and fiddling with his ring finger with his thumb anxiously, ‘The relief I felt while still in complete shock when we came back just- melted away when I realized that the actual escape, - of my, uh, brain, hadn’t been executed yet. So here I am, acting like an adult baby, having to admit to myself that I can’t sleep alone..? well that’s the first time I’ve announced this,’ Dylan was about to continue ranting when he felt a warm palm graze across his skin, fingers suggesting to intwine through his. He looked at Ryan, who was cautiously trying to let himself in his space, and he just allowed. They locked their hands, and Dylan could have sworn that the buzzing bees of anxiety and terror were swiftly replaced with what felt like butterflies tingling his insides. He tried his best to prevent his palms from sweating a waterfall and act cool.
‘What happened was… Beyond traumatic, Dylan. I don’t think I even have it all processed in my head. It’s honestly all a blur, and I only get a chance to look back at those awful memories when I’m supposed to be resting from them. But,’ Ryan returned the eyecontact, filling the air with warmth and comfort with nothing but his gaze, ‘I think the wounds are still fresh. And you’re just beginning a recovery journey. So the least you can do is not be judgemental of your struggles.’
Dylan nodded his head, at a loss of words, all senses heightened. He felt his touch extremely, his words were like metaphorical bandages easing the pain, his breath steady, calming in a way.
Dylan coughed once or twice to clear his throat, looking around the room curiously. ‘I guess I could start fixing that by… asking you to stay next to me?’ He looked back at Ryan not to miss his reaction, seeing a tender smile appear on his face. He felt instant relief.
‘Someone’s getting comfortable,’
‘Hey, totally cool if you’re not into it man,’
‘Of course I will, Dylan. I’m just messing around’ Ryan cut him off, Dylan feeling him gently squeezing their locked palms. ‘Even if it doesn’t necessarily make the nightmares go away, at least I can turn the lamp back on quickly and, cradle you in my arms or whatever’ he chuckled, Dylan settling with a familiar shy smile.
‘I appreciate this, Ryan’
‘Don’t get sappy and timid. We’re past that’ Ryan almost whispered as Dylan looked at him, his eyes slightly wider in concentration.
Ryan could tell that despite Dylan’s outlandish confidence, there was no way the guy would pick up on his awful flirting, so observing his body language, he experimentally leaned in, caressing Dylan’s cheek with his other hand, gently tracing his touch to his lips, dragging his thumb down in a straight line on Dylan’s soft lips.
‘What, are you going to go ALL the way and give me a good night kiss too?’ Dylan laughed, a little panicked, but still with the spirit of humour in him.
‘Shut up’ Ryan smiled, slowly leaning in, taking his time with making sure this was okay, that Dylan was okay. Instead of the expected shyness, Dylan took the following step of crashing their lips together. The kiss was just slightly sloppy from how much both of them missed this, but it was slow, warm, and felt like sparks going off in their darkened minds. It was slightly heated, but also welcoming and freeing, and it was absolutely all either of them wanted for their reunion. Ryan surprisingly expressed his greediness when they parted and caught Dylan’s lips in a few more short pecks, lingering the last one for longer as he felt Dylan now softly tugging on his shirt to bring him closer.
‘We do have to, you know, talk about this eventually’ Ryan mumbled against his lips when they broke apart, feeling Dylan’s soft breath on his skin.
‘Oh, the talking part, ugh’ Dylan whined, earning a scoff from Ryan.
‘I want this to go somewhere. Eventually. If you do too, that is. But it was always more than a dare to me’
‘I know. You picked me for these pouty soft lips and impressive make out skills’
‘Dylan, I am regretting every decis-‘
He cut him off with another kiss, Ryan engaging fully into it and smiling against his lips.
‘Oi. Don’t say that’ Dylan responded only after. Ryan just kept his forehead against his, enjoying his presence close by.
‘But, I Know, Ryan. I know for me it was the moment when I first realized that you’d done something to me. Completely threw me off the rails. In a good way. And the feeling never faded, and I’m sure I did a wonderful job hiding it, and now we’re here.’
Dylan being, well, Dylan, made Ryan’s heart skip a beat again. He grinned, grabbing his face gently with both of his hands to grant him another kiss, hoping he could pour all he wanted to say into it before he could regain the energy to tell him that he indeed, adored him, liked him, - liked him very, very much, as well.
‘Sleep tight. I’ll be here.’
‘Ay ay Captain.’