Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

JACOB CUSTOS

It’s been six months since The Incident.

Since then, basically everything has changed for everyone involved.

Jacob doesn’t know too many details, mostly getting all his information from Kaitlyn when she was in her more gossipy moods.

The ones she talks about the least are the resident throuple - Emma, Abi and Nick. He's not sure if it's for his benefit or simply because she isn't nearly as close to them as she is with him or the other two guys.

All she's really told him about those three is that Abi is going to a fancy art school, Nick is going to a culinary school, and Emma is still figuring out how to juggle her social media life and her everyday life as her subscriber count grew by the day.

He knows a whole lot more about Dylan and Ryan. Hell, Kaitlyn can't seem to get enough of gushing about them every time she calls him (every Tuesday, like they had promised each other ever since she moved in with her girlfriend).

Dylan's got a prosthetic now, but according to Kaitlyn, who was told by Ryan, Dylan's not doing so hot with wearing it outside their apartment. Which - oh yeah, the two lived together now. Apparently, Dylan's old roommate had moved out after The Incident (something something ableism, blah blah blah; Jacob had threatened to find and beat the asshole for Dylan, but had been told no very firmly by Ryan and Kaitlyn even when Dylan agreed). So, Ryan, who'd decided to go to an animation school in the same area as Dylan's school, moved in shortly after.

Kaitlyn also tells him that Dylan is definitely Not Okay, but to never bring it up or anything when Dylan was around because they were slowly working through it as a trio already - and the man had a tendency to shut down and avoid them if they were blunt about it. And Jacob, not exactly known for his subtlety, had been the first to be warned away, but hopefully not the only one. He's an idiot, but even he has some emotional intelligence.

Apparently, Ryan's lung keeps collapsing, his mass of unmoving scar tissue causing his doctors to tease the idea of removing it entirely. Kaitlyn tells Jacob often that Ryan's becoming a bit of a recluse, and Dylan's right alongside him - so that the next time Jacob talks to them, she demanded that he invite them somewhere. According to her, they enable one another with their anti-social behavior.

Jacob just thinks Kaitlyn's been talking too much with her therapist about them all.

And talking to her girlfriend too much, too - but that’s more of a too busy flirting with her to talk to me than it is a stop telling that person all of our secrets, that’s not your business.

Believe it or not, Jacob doesn’t mind Kaitlyn’s new girlfriend who takes up all of her time when she’s not busy with Dylan and Ryan.

Her name is Sammy - and she’s every bit of the badass that Kaitlyn is and somehow more. She’s a few years older then their group, blonde and covered in old scars that she wouldn’t tell even Kait about.

Jacob’s only met her once, but she seemed nice - and a perfect match to Kaitlyn’s fire. Everyone else is gonna meet her for the first time today for the six month anniversary of The Incident.

Speaking of which - Jacob definitely doesn’t want to go to it. No only would he have to confront being the only single one - but he was finally gonna do it.

He was gonna tell them about the rotor arm.

.

.

.

They decide to meet at a restaurant. Specifically, it’s Kaitlyn’s moms restaurant. Those two women were fantastic and offered to close up for the whole day so that the group could have their time together.

He fixed his hair, which was grown out and starting to curl - and regretted not bringing his signature hat. It was always more of a way to hide rather than a fashion statement, and he didn’t have to hide with his friends. But suddenly, not having it, he felt as if he couldn’t do this.

He could just… turn back to his car and go home. Send a text saying he couldn’t make it.

He fully debated it, heart thrumming quickly in his chest before the choice was made for him.

“Jacob!” Kaitlyn called out to him, waving from the entrance of the restaurant.

Shit.

He bit back a groan, waving back reluctantly. He made his way toward her, fixing his hair one last time. “Kait, hey,” He greeted, pulling her into a bear hug. She clung back, laughing happily into his ear. It was so nice to see her in person and not on a video call, even if it had only been a few weeks.

She looked good. Her hair was longer, but had been bleached blonde - and the left side of her head had been shaved to a buzz. She was dressed far more like her, a hot pink pleather skirt and a sheer black top with a lacy under bra. Her heeled boots gave her an extra few inches, lengthening her smooth legs - aaaand Jacob should definitely not be checking her out like this. Bad, bad Jacob.

“You’re late! Everyone else is here,” She reprimanded playfully, pulling away. He grimaced bashfully, and let her tug him inside the restaurant. “Emma and Abi are helping my moms in the kitchen, but the boys are all meeting and greeting with Sammy in our booth.”

‘Our’ booth. Jacob smiled despite himself. It hadn’t really been their booth in years, not since Jacob had moved across state for his dad’s business. But there had been many little Jake and Kait memories attached to the booth, so much so that Kaitlyn’s moms had, had the booth banned for anyone but them. It had a sign and everything.

“Yeah? What’s Sammy think so far?” He asked, looking around the all-too-familiar restaurant. He really did miss this place.

“I thought she and Emma were going to cat-fight, but instead they shared vegan recipes with each other. And her and Dylan get along like a house on fire. Says that he reminds her of an old friend.”

Kaitlyn looked proud, a pleased glint in her eyes. Jacob knew from experience that she valued her friends getting along, more than most people did. It was part of why growing up, when Jacob struggled with making friends, Kaitlyn always tried to introduce him to people she knew. It never worked - and he always saw how frustrated she got. But even then, she’d always stick by his side, no matter how much she liked the other people.

“Hey, goobers, you gonna gossip about us all day or you gonna come say hi?” Dylan called over from the booth. Jacob looked up in surprise, and instinctively smiled at all of his friends in one place.

Dylan was the first to stand and leave the booth, clad in a band shirt (that was definitely Ryan’s judging by how it looked more like a crop top on his lanky torso) and jeans. His hand lacked the prosthetic that everyone knew he’d gotten, but Jacob had already been warned by Kaitlyn not to mention it. At all. Many times.

He looked tired, exhausted, even as he beamed at Jacob.

Ryan was close behind Dylan, like a little guard dog. He was in his usual band shirt and jeans, but what did surprise Jacob was how his hair was grown out from its buzzed form. He also lacked his usual earbuds, and his hand was casually wrapped around Dylan’s as if he didn’t realize it was there.

They looked good together.

(He looked tired too.)

Nick was next, brushing past the couple to embrace Jacob with a cheerful laugh. “Hey, man!” Jacob leaned into his hold and tried not to pretend like he was starving for it. He’d missed everyone so much.

He pulled away to study Nick. He had broadened out since the last time they saw each other, clearly packing on muscle. He was wearing a loose long sleeve and cargo pants, and Jacob wondered how Emma and Abi could stand to date someone with such a horrendous fashion sense.

He looked happy.

Dylan hugged him next, and Jacob got an idea to get him to really smile. He tightened his grip on him, and lifted him in the air, spinning in a wild circle. Dylan shrieked joyfully, kicking his legs instinctively. “Put me down!” He laughed.

Jacob obeyed, proud to see that the smile on Dylan’s face was real this time. Jacob always knew it was real when he could see Dylan’s dimples.

From the corner of his eyes he could see that Ryan was smiling at Dylan sappily. Adorable, honestly. They were so sweet it made him a little sick.

“Asshat!” Dylan laughed, shoving his chest playfully as he stepped away and back to Ryan’s side. “Sooo rude.” He scoffed, wrinkling his nose at Jacob.

“It’s not ‘sooo rude’! I just wanna hug my buddy, is that too much to ask?” Jacob feigned hurt, just to keep those smiles on Dylan and Ryan’s faces.

“So, you’re just as stupid in person as you are on video call?” Jacob turns at the sound of Sammy’s voice, waving at Kaitlyn’s girlfriend. Then he registered her words.

“Hey—!” He protested, and pouted when Kaitlyn cut him off instantly.

“Yep, welcome to our world. Our resident himbo,” She sighed ‘solemnly’, shaking her head at Jacob. He shook his back. She was so mean. She had everyone else fooled, seriously she did.

“I don’t even know what that word means,” Jacob insisted, and pouted harder when it only made everyone laugh at him.

“I know, that’s exactly our point,” Kaitlyn retorted, pinching his cheek teasingly. He glared at her, poorly fighting the amused twitch of his lips.

He’d missed this. Being with these guys was so easy. Nothing felt impossible when he had them by his side.

“Jakey!” A familiar voice squealed.

If Jacob was a lesser man, he would have paled several shades at the sound of Kaitlyn’s mom Allie calling for him. Unfortunately, he was a lesser man.

“H-hi, Auntie Allie,” He smiled wearily at the sole reason Kaitlyn was the way she was, accepting the barrel hug forced into him. His back definitely wasn’t supposed to pop like that, but he didn’t protest. He was far too used to Auntie Allie’s infamous back-breaker hug to complain now.

“Oh, Jakey, we missed you, baby! Here, come on and say hi to your Auntie Lilah, she’s been dying to see you again,” Auntie Allie was a whirlwind of energy, and Jacob only sighed, used to this, and gave a weary wave to the others as she dragged him away.

They just laughed at his misery.

Traitors.

Emma and Abi are, in fact, in the kitchen with Auntie Lilah. They both look nice. Happy. Emma’s hair is twisted in some complex braid and Abi’s hair is no longer pink but a fantastic shade of blue - both in matching dresses but in different colors. Emma’s in green and Abi’s in purple. It fits them.

Jacob has to force himself to look away before they notice him staring like an idiot.

“Aye, pobrecito!” Auntie Lilah’s already up in his face, checking his eyes and squeezing at his sides like she always did when he was a stupid scrawny little kid with an absent father. He’s still stupid, and his father’s still absent, but he’s not little anymore. It doesn’t stop her and Auntie Allie from acting like he is. “You need to eat more,” Auntie Lilah scolded, ushering him toward where Emma and Abi were sitting at the island.

Emma’s snickering to herself and Abi’s hiding a smile behind her hand. Jacob glared halfheartedly at them, even as he reassured Auntie Lilah, “No, no, Auntie, I eat plenty, I’m fine,” He reassured. She didn’t look impressed.

“Auntie, huh?” Emma hummed curiously as Lilah and Allie became a natural fluid flurry of moment in the kitchen. “I knew you and Kaitlyn grew up together but I didn’t realize…”

“Yeah, they’re basically family. My own family’s pretty shit, so,” He shrugged. He wasn’t embarrassed about his living situation anymore. He was living on his own now and making his own money away from his father. He didn’t have to pretend like everything was fine anymore - he knew his home-life had been awful.

“I know what that’s like,” Emma huffed dryly, picking at her nails. Jacob watched Abi reach for her hand, stopping her fidgeting. A blush touched Emma’s cheeks, and the two girls intertwined their hands.

He smiled solemnly. Good for them.

“Hey, Em? Can we talk, just the two of us? It’ll be quick.” He asked before he could chicken out.

“As long as it’s not to ask me out again, sure,” Emma raised her eyebrow at him, and he rolled his eyes. He’d long since accepted that she had moved on. She just loved teasing him about it. Abi kissed Emma on the cheek goodbye before the two stood and left the kitchen to the back room.

He watched nervously as she leant against the brick wall, crossing her arms. There was a scar on her eyebrow, and a few in her arms. He swallowed roughly, gearing himself up.

He’d spent these past six months preparing for this. He’d chosen to tell Emma first with the hopes that once he did, she would storm away and tell everyone for him so he didn’t have to face them when they found out it was his fault.

“Jacob, come on, just tell me,” Emma groaned impatiently. He jolted, lifting his eyes from their dead stare at the ground.

“Sorry,” He apologized, fiddling with his hands and trying so hard not to chicken out and say something entirely different. “I… I need to tell you something. About that night. About why… it happened.”

“Jacob..?” Emma’s standing straight, her posture growing intensely stiff as her fists curled at her sides. “What—what exactly are you trying to say?”

He bit the bullet.

“It’s all my fault. I stole the rotor arm. The van didn’t work because of me.”

Oh.

His cheek hurts.

Emma had slapped him.

“I fucking—I fucking knew it!” Emma burst, raved, practically spitting in his face. “Everyone else tried to convince me that you weren’t hiding from us, that you weren’t guilty of something. But I knew - I knew! You—you ruined our lives! Dylan lost his hand because of you!”

Jacob didn’t say a word.

Let her shove at him, hit at him.

He was used to this. This, he could handle. He knew how to deal with violent people.

Still.

His eyes are burning. “I-I know, okay? I fucking know. I didn’t expect all of this to happen, I just… I just wanted one more night. With you. With everyone else. And instead I… I ruined everything. I nearly got everyone killed. I was selfish. And ignorant. And I know that it’s unforgivable. I just. I needed to tell you before I tell the others.”

Emma’s face is red, her veins prominent in her forehead. “Fuck you. Fuck you, Jacob. You tell them tonight or I will. And I won’t make you look sympathetic. I can tell you that fucking much.” She rammed her shoulder into his, storming away and back to Abi.

Jacob stared emptily ahead.

Yeah.

That was about what he expected.

How the fuck was he going to tell the others?

Fuck. Fuck it all.

He steadied his breathing. Fixed his hair. Wiped his eyes.

And joined the others with a smile on his face.

Chapter Text

EMMA MOUNTEBANK

Everything that happened that night... all because of Jacob not being able to take no for an answer?

Emma took her seat beside Abi once more, palm hot and itchy from smacking Jacob. She felt a short moment of guilt, knowing hitting wasn't the answer to anger, but it was gone in the next second when she reminded herself that everyone else had suffered much, much more than Jacob did.

"What's wrong?" Abi asked, taking her shaking hand into hers. Emma steadied her breathing, giving her girlfriend a tense smile.

"Jacob'll tell you. And everyone else. It's not my place to say." Yet. She was giving Jacob until tomorrow morning after the group sleepover to tell everyone what he did to them.

"What, does he have a new partner?" Abi asked, sharing her smile. Emma bit back a scoff. If only that was what he had to say. She wished that was the case, she really, really did.

"No, he's just... he'll tell you. At some point." She dismissed lightly, squeezing Abi's hand.

In all honesty, she wasn't as mad at Jacob as she was acting. Yes, she was pissed, and betrayed, but she could recognize that Jacob had never intended for any of that to happen.

And yes, logically Emma knew Jacob had been through the same thing as them all. She knew he wasn't without his own scars and trauma, of course she knew that. Rationally, she knew all of this. It was just... hard to swallow the thought that maybe... if she hadn't broken up with him... none of that would have happened.

She didn't regret breaking up with Jacob. Sure, she missed his goofy, too-soft heart and his very gentle touches. But they were... incompatible. And Emma had known that the second she arrived at the camp, but she'd still led him along for two months, let him believe she loved him back like he loved her.

Well... she did love him. But she wasn't in love, and never was.

But knowing the truth? That Jacob had been so stupidly reckless because of her?

She knew it wasn't her fault for what he did.

She's not responsible for his actions no matter how much it felt like she was. But damn.

A part of her wondered... what would have happened? If she hadn't broken up with him right before they left, if she had waited until they were back home and apart to send him the faithful breakup text.

But - if none of this happened, then Emma wouldn't have Abi or Nick. They'd probably forget about her in a handful of months, and then they would eventually forget each other because there was no way they would have gotten together without her there to push them along.

She couldn't imagine life without the two of them.

Was it worth the pain?

Worth the trauma and months of therapy?

She really wasn't sure.

"Should we save Nick from the others?" Abi asked, bringing her out of her thoughts. She looked over at her, then over her shoulder where she could hear their group laughing loudly.

"Yeah. You go ahead, I need to call my mom real quick." She said, pressing a kiss to Abi's soft supple lips. Abi smiled into it, placing her hand on Emma's neck briefly to lean into it.

Then she was gone, and Emma was alone to pull her phone out.

Emmy
Asshole: Do NOT tell Dylan last.

Jacob
I won't. Telling Ryan last.

Well, that made sense, she supposed. Though, maybe she should keep an eye out when he did. Ryan would probably try to kill him. He's been angry, ever since that night. The only time he's not is when Dylan's there to calm his fire.

They really are cute together, though personally, Emma thought that she and her two nerds were cuter.

After that night, when they had finally gotten their repressed shit together and kissed - the three of them had dated long distance for exactly three weeks before Emma had demanded they all move in together. Nick, who'd been living in a motel until he could get a flight to Australia, had jumped at the chance. Abi had taken convincing, since she still lived with her mom, but had joined them in Emma's apartment a few weeks later.

They worked together perfectly - despite their many differences. Emma had come to realize that despite Abi's demure attitude, she was fairly fucking brave and bold once she got comfortable with them. Nick was the more awkward of the two somehow, having somewhat lost his playful edge after that night. But occasionally, when the mood was right, he would be more like the man that Emma and Abi had met in June.

While Emma found herself needing to take charge with Nick when they were... intimate, so to say, she was pleasantly surprised when Abi had been the more assertive one over both of them. Emma rarely let herself give up control to other people, but with Abi it was easy. She knew that Abi could take care of her, just like she knew that Nick knew she could take care of him.

They've been dating for six months, on the day, and yet Emma knew without a doubt that she loved them more than she ever would anyone else in her life.

Emma shook herself out of her wandering mind, standing from the barstool. She looked at Kaitlyn's moms briefly, sending them a smile as she left the kitchen. They were lovely women, if overbearing.

Emma headed over to the group, shooting a short glare at Jacob in warning as she sat down between Nick and Abi.

They didn't hesitate to take her hands in theirs.

"Emma, glad you finally joined us," Kaitlyn said, not unkind, and Emma rolled her eyes.

"Just had a talk with my mom, it's whatever. What're you guys talking about?" She dismissed, ignoring Jacob as she looks between everyone else.

"Well, Ryan was giving us the latest ghost story on his favorite podcast. Guess what it's about." Kaitlyn smirked dryly - and Emma wasn't blind to the vaguely pained looks of the others.

"...werewolves..?" She whispered, grimacing at the very word.

Dylan shook his head, making an 'error' noise and crossing his arms in an X. "Close, but no cigar, Em. It was... about... US! Hoorah." He said, giving a lifeless cheer. Oh.

"Wait... what?"

"The whole episode is about how crypto-theorists think we were all possessed by the Hag to kill the Hackett family, dubbing us 'Psycho Teens'." Ryan explained, crossing his arms, distastefully shaking his head. "And our cover story about wild beasts was actually just the Hackett family who were all skinwalkers, which is allegedly why the Hag wanted them dead and used us to do it."

"What." Emma deadpanned.

“Yep.” Dylan popped his lips at the end, staring blankly down at himself. Emma watched as Ryan took his hand into his, subtly bumping their shoulders together. Dylan’s eyes regained some life.

“I mean, most of the Hackett family was a bunch of furless werewolves, so it’s not too far off.” Abi said thoughtfully, shrugging when Emma and Nick gave her wide eyes. She usually didn’t talk about that night or anything involving it at all, always skirting by it and moving on.

“And the Hag was real.” Ryan added absentmindedly.

Again. What?

“Hold on hold on, the Hag was WHAT?” Nick made him back up, tugging at one of his curls stressfully.

Ryan pursed his lips, avoiding everyone’s eyes. “Me, Laura and Travis saw her. She tried to talk to us.” His voice was timid and he was speaking even slower than usual. If Emma squinted, she was sure she would see goosebumps running down his arms.

“And she kept trying to lure me places by calling my name,” Dylan added, gesturing to himself with his stump. Abi looked up.

“Hey, she did that to me too, I think! I didn’t realize it was her, but..” Before Emma can insist on more information, because she’d never been told this before, Jacob jerked upright, pale.

“Wait, that was REAL? I thought I was tripping balls, dude!” He said, shuddering slightly.

“Her name was Eliza Vorez. The wolf that bit Dylan was her son, Silas. After we - Laura - killed him, the curse was gone forever. I… I never brought it up because… he was just a little boy.”

Ryan’s voice had dropped to a whisper toward the end, and Emma wasn’t oblivious to the fact that he was probably about to cry. She’d never seen him get even close to tearing up before, not even that night after all the stress had lifted. It was an odd feeling to see the least emotional and irrational person in your friend group start to break down.

“You did what you had to.” Abi said, looking up with a stern glint to her eyes. Ryan looked at her in slight surprise. There was something hidden in her words that Emma wasn’t aware of. “You know that.”

“Yeah, I know, Abi. I know I did,” Ryan said, looking away shortly before looking back. “So did you.”

Emma wonders what they’re talking about. Abi and Nick never talk about what happened after he got bitten, but she knows it wasn’t pretty. That the wolf side would make the human side say things they would normally never. But that was all she’d been told, and some days she resented the fact that she had been so focused on herself that she was so out of the loop with what everyone else went through.

She’d spent most of the night alone. Everyone else but her and Jacob had somebody with them most of the night. And it showed, showed in that the ones that had been paired through the night were linked and bonded in a way they weren’t with the others.

The most obvious case to Emma was Dylan and Kaitlyn - the two were latched at the hip despite going to different colleges and most of the time if one was asked to hang out, they’d show up with the other without even asking.

Ryan always came too, but Emma wasn’t sure if that was out of obligation to his boyfriend or if it was because he was just as trauma-bonded as the other two and was just better at hiding it. Maybe both.

“By the way, how are Laura and Max doing? You’re the only one who really… stayed in contact.” Kaitlyn asked, leaning into her girlfriend’s side. Emma didn’t know much about Sammy, she was quiet and didn’t try to insert herself into conversations - but she was nice and had a fair amount in common with Emma, surprisingly enough.

“Max is almost done fixing up the camp. He plans to open it back up this summer. Laura’s going to college now - but she’s gonna help him out when it opens up.” Ryan answered, tapping his fingers mindlessly on the table until Dylan laid his stump on top of his hand. Emma smiled to herself when Ryan merely circled Dylan’s wrist and held it, thumb brushing up and down the pink, scarred skin.

“I can’t believe that he actually took over the camp.” Abi shook her head, frowning in thought. “I can’t even imagine stepping foot in that place again,” She shuddered to herself, and Emma wrapped her arm around her petite frame. Emma would rather eat her favorite pair of shoes than let her nerds go back to that place.

“I might,” Ryan admitted, shooting a quick, solemn glance at Dylan, who looked away with a carefully blank face.

Interesting. Emma sensed tension there. Maybe she could play love doctor tonight and get them to talk it out. She’d already gotten them to kiss the last time they’d played truth or dare, and they were dating a day later. She’d just need one of them to choose truth, and boom. Golden.

“Is, uh, is the food done yet? Do you know?” Nick quickly changed the subject, obviously noticing what Emma had.

“Yeah, I’m starving!” Jacob agreed loudly, leaning his head toward the direction of the kitchen.

“Hold your horses, boy, it’s comin’!” One of Kaitlyn’s moms shouted back.

Emma almost smiled before she remembered. She shot another glare at Jacob, for good measure. She needed to stay angry at him no matter how hard it was, no matter how much it wasn’t really his fault what happened. Hell, with their luck, the old ass van would have probably broken down even if he hadn’t tampered with it.

She’d stay angry and upset until everyone else had decided how to feel. If they chose to forgive them, she would, too. Maybe it’s not the healthiest way to deal with this kind of thing, but it’s the best Emma can do without wanting to scream and cry and pull out her hair.

She tugged Abi closer and squeezed Nick’s hand as Kaitlyn’s moms brought out the food.

Tomorrow morning, if Jacob held up to his word, everyone would know the truth.

Until then, she would do what she did best.

Fake it.

Chapter Text

NICK FURCILLO

Nick may be oblivious to a lot of things, but there is one thing for certain - something's going on between Jacob and Emma. Something bad.

He wasn't sure what - but it made his skin crawl unpleasantly. He hated when his friends fought - even as a child - and he especially hated when his girlfriend and his best friend fought. He never knew what side to choose, or to choose one at all - and it always ended horribly.

He could tell that Abi had noticed the stabbing glares Emma was sending Jacob - and the sad, agonized looks from Jacob in return - but like Nick, he knew she wouldn't say anything. They weren't confrontational people, usually leaving the bickering to the more sociable people like Emma or Dylan.

But this was clearly more than friendly bickering. And Nick wasn't sure how to feel about that. He had thought that the two had come to a quiet agreement to forget their summer fling, to stay friends even if they weren't close like the others in the group.

But now it seemed like the animosity from That Night was back.

Nick took a short sip of his water, trying to ignore it for the time being. It would boil over soon, he knew. Emma may think she's good at bottling this stuff up, but Nick remembered how awful she was at hiding her crush on Abi during the entire summer. A good actress in front of the camera, yes. With her friends? Definitely not.

He thanked Kaitlyn's mom when she handed him his plate, setting it down in front of him on the table as everyone spoke to each other loudly. He looked around subtly, not actively engaging with anyone for the moment.

People-watching was always one of his favorite hobbies growing up. Some people had cars, like Kaitlyn, or music like Dylan. Nick didn't have something special or specific to him, he just liked to see how people interacted with other people, or how they were when they were alone. Most people were particularly beautiful when they thought no one was watching.

He focused on Kaitlyn and Sammy's conversation briefly, looking at them from the corner of his eye. Sammy's got an arm around Kaitlyn, and Kaitlyn's absentmindedly messing with Sammy's dangling bracelets on her wrist.

"It's not too much?" Kaitlyn's asking, tilting her head to lean against Sammy's shoulder.

"Nah, it's... it's nice to be in such a big group again. You all seem... to really love each other." Sammy replies, something sad glinting in her eyes as she looked around the table. Her leg was bouncing anxiously under the table, causing a subtle vibration on the floor.

Nick has seen that look in her eyes in his mirror. When he remembers all the horrible, disgusting things he said to Abi right before turning. When he thinks of how terrorized she must've been when he threw her across the room, when he was preparing to rip her head off.

He could've killed her if she hadn't acted fast enough and shot at him. He would've killed her.

Nick thinks that maybe everyone likes Sammy because she seems to understand. Kaitlyn won't tell anyone about Sammy's past, just that she wouldn't judge them for any of their trauma.

Nick turned his ears away from the two women, looking over at Ryan and Dylan instead. Their body language isn't nearly as close as the two girls, even if their hands are tightly intertwined and they rarely look away from each other.

"You okay?" Ryan asked Dylan, whose lips flattened briefly. Ryan sighed, knocking their foreheads together. "I'm sorry, okay? I know I told you that I wouldn't."

Wouldn't? Wouldn't what? Nick fought a frown, watching carefully as Dylan looked away from Ryan's imploring gaze, silently shaking his head.

Dylan's quiet a lot now. Nick isn't sure if it's because he's more comfortable with everyone now, or if it's because of what happened That Night. Abi thinks it's the latter, but Nick isn't too sure. Emma is convinced that Dylan's always been quiet but was faking it at camp, but Nick also isn't too sure of that either.

It's a different kind of quiet than the one either idea suggests. There's a lot of empty space when the group talks now - spaces that would usually be filled with one of Dylan's awful puns or jokes. When Dylan does joke, it's almost always at his own expense.

Ryan seems to be the only one to bring out the old Dylan, but lately, Dylan has been pulling away from Ryan more and more. Nick has heard plenty from Ryan during some of their late-night talks when it's technically day for Nick (still figuring out his sleep schedule living in America) and Ryan struggles to sleep throughout the whole night with his insomnia.

It's always something along the lines of I try to talk to him and he always has an excuse for why he's busy with school. Ryan never seems to listen when Nick tells him that Dylan might really be busy with his quantum physics degree, always convinced that there's something else wrong.

Nick is certain that a hidden part of Ryan wants something to be wrong, wants there to be something he can do to fix Dylan - because if nothing is wrong with Dylan, then that means there's something wrong with him.

...Or something.

Emma loved to parrot her therapist's words to them after her sessions, and Nick couldn't deny that they had a lot of sense in them.

"Just... talk to me?" Ryan asked pleadingly. "You don't talk to me anymore. Not about important stuff."

"Not here, Ry, okay? I... I promise we'll talk. In private. Okay?" Dylan finally replied, meeting Ryan's eyes with a weak smile. "You finish that new episode of your podcast?" He asked, abruptly changing the topic without any warning.

What?

Nick then grimaced when Dylan shot him an irritated look.

Oh.

He'd been caught.

He turned away shamefully but was relieved to see that Ryan did not pick up on his eavesdropping.

"Oh... yeah, so basically it—" Nick tuned them out, mostly as a silent apology to Dylan who relaxed back into conversation with Ryan.

"I'll be back," Jacob announced, drawing Nick's attention. "Bathroom break," He explained when their eyes caught. Nick nodded, watching as he practically bolted toward the restroom, his eyes narrowing slightly.

He leaned toward Emma, speaking in her ear, "I'm gonna use the restroom, too." She looked at him from her conversation with Abi, nodding in acknowledgment. She pressed a light kiss to his lips, making his head spin happily before he stood and quickly chased after Jacob.

Time to figure out... well, anything.

He knocked on the bathroom door, earning a hissed curse and a, "Just a second!"

"Dude, just let me in."

A sigh.

"Fuck it. Okay."

He pushed inside when the door unlocked with a click.

Jacob was stood, back pressed to the wall opposite the door. His hands were stuffed in his pockets, and he was deliberately looking everywhere but at Nick.

"H-hey, man. What's... what's up?" His voice was high-pitched, foot kicking at the ground in a false nonchalance. Nick crossed his arms, waiting until the restroom door clicked shut behind him to speak.

"What's going on, bro?" He asked, walking closer to the jock. Jacob's shoulders rose to his ears, and his eyes were wider than normal as his head shook wildly.

"What, uh, what do you mean? Nothing's going on. I am a-okay, everything is awesome. In fact, everything is so awesome I wanna go and finish my food." He moved to rush past Nick, hand reaching for the door.

Nick grabbed his arm before he could fully slip away, glaring at the side of his head.

Yeah, there was no way he was letting this slide. He hated confrontation, yeah, but he hated liars more. And Jacob was definitely lying.

"Nice try, mate - get your ass back over here." He demanded, tugging on his arm. Jacob didn't budge for a moment, closing his eyes tightly and working his jaw back and forth.

"Oh my god, fine." He finally groaned, moving back to his position against the wall. His hands were balled into fists at his side, and Nick wasn't oblivious to the small trembles wracking his broad frame. "You just gonna stare me to death?" Jacob asked snappishly, looking away with a clenched jaw, his teeth visibly gritting as he grimaced anxiously.

Nick rolled his eyes so hard his body rocked with it. This man was a moron. He had absolutely no social intelligence, and that was coming from him.

"If it'll get you to tell me why you and Emma hate each other again." He said back, just as tense. Jacob flinched when Emma's name came out, and Nick settled back on his heels. He was right. It was about Emma.

"She-she doesn't... ugh. Fuck. She totally does." Jacob scrubbed at his face, voice thickening with a sudden pained emotion. Nick worked his jaw back and forth, rocking on his heels.

This must be really really bad.

He needed to know. Now.

"So?" He pressed when Jacob didn't do more than make several aborted attempts at speaking.

Jacob was practically out of breath when he began to speak, rubbing his hands together in an anxious, soothing motion. "God... o-okay. Look, just, before I tell you, you need to promise me you won't go and tell everyone the second you walk outta here. I need to tell everyone on my own time." He held his hands up placatingly as if in preparation.

Nick's eyes narrowed. What. What kind of request was that? How badly did Jacob fuck up that he needed Nick to promise not to do anything about it? And judging by Emma's uncharacteristic silence, she'd been told the same.

"The fuck? Jacob, what did you do?" He asked, anger creeping into his tone. It had to be fucking awful if Emma agreed to be silent about it. She never let anyone control what she did.

"Just... promise me." Jacob insisted, growing paler by the second.

Nick pinched the space between his eyes, groaning in frustration. He didn't have a choice. "Dammit. I promise."

Jacob sighed shortly and swallowed audibly. Nick grimaced at him, gesturing him to just tell him already, and thankfully he got the hint.

"So. You know how the van broke down and we were stuck that night?"

"Yeah..?"

Oh god.

"W-well, the van didn't... necessarily break down. I..."

"Jacob.."

There's no fucking way.

"Please, don't flip out yet. Just... let me talk."

Nick had an idea where this was going. He balled his hands into fists, struggling to allow Jacob to finish, "Just. God. Just make it quick." He grits the words out.

"I didn't want me and Emma to end... the way we did. I wanted to convince her we could last even with long distance. I wanted one more night with her. So I... stole the rotor arm and that was why the van didn't work." Jacob panted at the end of his rambling, his trembling blatantly increasing with each spat word.

Nick stared blankly at him.

"Please say something. Anything."

Nick closed his eyes. God. Goddammit. Stupid fucking Jacob.

"This... this isn't you! I—"

Her skin was soft, fragile, under his hands, but it was gone within a blink as he threw her away and into the opposite wall. Her head gave a solid smack and crack into the tile, but she's somehow conscious as he straightened upright. His lips were curled into a snarl, a cruel sneering grin of smug arrogance.

He is going to kill her.

She reaches for the gun.

"I hate you." He finally said. There's no heat to his voice, he's just... stating a fact.

He hates Jacob. Despises him. Can barely look at his dumb, earnest face. His soft, watery eyes are practically begging him to forgive, to still love him.

He's not sure that's possible.

But.

God. There's always a but.

"I hate you so much. But. But it wasn't your fault. What happened that night. That was Mr. Hackett's fault. He shouldn't have closed camp on the same day as the full moon. We shouldn't have had that bonfire."

And it's true. The fault doesn't lie entirely on Jacob, no matter how much he wished it could be. Dylan had suggested the bonfire, Nick had consented to Emma's kiss, and they had all split off into the woods without a second thought. The only one with any sense that night had been Ryan, and even then he had been wrapped up in it all, too.

"It was my fault, though. We wouldn't have been there at all if I hadn't tampered with the van." A tear is making its way down Jacob's cheek. And that's how Nick knows that Jacob means what he's saying. For all he was a jock-stereotype, Jacob had the softest heart of anyone in the group. When he cried, it was because he was really hurting.

"Yeah. That's true. But.." Nick closed his eyes and took a slow breath. Being angry at Jacob would do nothing. Emma could do that for him. He... he had to be the reasonable one here. God knows that no one else would, or will. "It was our own actions that put us in those woods. Our own actions that had us in the midst of the chaos. we didn't know any better, so how could you?"

Jacob didn't reply, and Nick allowed the silence between them to hold the air.

Then Jacob spoke, voice breaking slightly.

"Emma's never gonna talk to me again, huh?"

"No, probably not," Nick said, shaking his head.

Emma held grudges, and never let go. She still had a chip on her shoulder from the time Nick had accidentally eaten her snack that she'd been saving all day. He'd had to say sorry in... a few different ways before she forgave him.

Jacob nodded as if expecting it. Then, he took in a sharp breath, closing his eyes.

"Will you?"

Nick's lips parted in surprise.

Would he forgive Jacob?

Well. That's... Fuck. That's a hard question.

He... would he?

"I... I dunno, man. This is... rough. I'm having a hard time looking at you right now." He admitted and watched as Jacob knocked his head back against the wall, body slackening desolately.

"Yeah." He sighed slowly. Another tear joined the first.

Nick looked away. He hated seeing people cry. Even stupid assholes like Jacob - because no matter how many mistakes he'd made, Jacob was his friend. Is his friend? Fuck. He's not so sure anymore.

"You can punch me. If it'll make you feel better." Jacob said, crossing his arms over himself in a protective manner.

Nick sighed, shaking his head.

"It wouldn't."

"Oh."

Jacob shifted on his feet nervously. Nick watched him silently, awaiting the inevitable rant.

"Okay, seriously, why are you being so calm? You should be furious. Like Emma. You shouldn't be... trying to comfort me. Trying to rationalize my actions and make it not my fault."

There it was.

"It is your fault. And I am mad. But that was six months ago, man. You can't do anything about what you did back then. All you can do is work on fixing what you can now." Nick said, as calmly as he could.

Jacob blew a slow breath out, shaking his head. He hugged himself tighter, clearing his throat and trying to smile at Nick.

"That's, uh... deep, man."

"Shut up."

"Yep, okay, shutting up."

Nick pointed firmly at him, a glare touching his eyes. Jacob straightened, turning his face away under his ire.

"We're gonna go sit back down, and you're gonna act like a normal person instead of this weird... skittish animal you've been since you got here. Then you're gonna tell everyone else before we all separate again tomorrow."

Jacob sighed, his nerves reappearing in a mere second at his words. Nick fought the urge to roll his eyes as the cocky facade Jacob loved to throw on appeared on his face.

"I've already gotten the lecture from Emma, I know." He said, waving his hand dismissively. Nick glared at him, and he deflated. "Sorry. But I really did."

"Right. Figures." He should've known Emma would do that. She always had everyone's best interests in mind. "Who're you telling next?" He asked, biting at the inside of his cheek.

"Pro'lly Kaitlyn. Or Abi." Jacob said, nodding to himself.

Nick shook his head instantly.

"No. You should tell Dylan next."

Jacob's eyes widened, and his shoulders made their return to his ears. Yeah, Nick expected that. For all of Jacob's infatuation with Emma and her approval, Nick would have to be blind to miss that Jacob valued Dylan's approval just as much. The two had been oddly close during the summer despite their differences - even if they didn't talk much, now.

And probably wouldn't ever again after tonight.

"What? No way man. I can't. Not so soon. If I tell him next, there's no way he won't go and tell everyone else." Jacob wiped his hands nervously on his shirt, eyes darting this way and that.

Nick shook his head again. "If you tell him last like I know you're probably planning to, it won't end well." Dylan, for all his reluctance to get properly angry, was as bad as Emma when it came to grudges. If he was told last..? After what happened? Nick paled at the idea.

"No, I'm g-gonna... I'll tell Ryan last," Jacob said, pursing his lips in a forced nonchalance.

Nick wasn't buying it for a second.

"You're full of shit. Lemme guess, you told Emma that bullshit line, too?"

"...Maybe." Jacob slumped back against the wall.

"Bro." Nick deadpanned.

It was all he needed to say, and Jacob relented.

"Fine! Fine. But I'm telling Kaitlyn first. Then Dylan. Happy?"

"Yes, actually." Nick smiled forcefully, falsely, at him.

Jacob forced a smile back, before it twisted into a desolate frown.

"Fuck, he's gonna hate me."

"Yep." Nick nodded.

"You're not helping." Oh, a surprise Jacob glare. That’s fun.

"Good. I'm not trying to." Nick said lightly.

He got a middle finger in reply. He gave one back, before realizing that, oh yeah, they were kind of meant to be eating a meal with everyone at the moment.

"We've been in here way too long. I'm gonna go back now."

He turned to leave, and Jacob caught his arm.

"And you won't tell anyone before I can?"

Nick bit his lips together.

"...Can I tell Abi?" He asked. She'd take it better if it was from him. She never really connected with Jacob, never talked to him unless there was no other person around. Nick knew she got nervous around the jock; wanted to spare her from that stress even when the news would cause even more so on her.

"...Fine." Jacob allowed.

"Fine."

They leave the bathroom, and Nick tried to ignore the bad taste in his mouth.

They'd head to Kaitlyn's after this.

Have a sleepover like dumb teenagers.

And by morning, nothing would be the same again.

Nick tried to steel himself in preparation.

It didn't really work.

Chapter Text

KAITLYN KA

For once, Kaitlyn is glad that her moms are as eccentric as they are and had offered to get a hotel for the night so that she and her friends could have the house to themselves.

Because Kaitlyn definitely knew that something was up with Jacob, Emma and Nick.

As she ushered everyone inside, she bemoaned the fact that Sammy had, had to leave. Sammy was good at keeping Kaitlyn from saying stupid, unintentionally insensitive things.

But nooo.

She had work and other responsibilities to take care of.

What if she just wanted to smooch her girlfriend? Was that too much to ask?

Though, before Sammy had left - she'd said something... odd.

"Hey, keep your cool tonight, okay?"

"Huh? What do you mean?"

"Just... I have a really bad feeling. Don't... don't do anything rash. You guys... you have a really good thing here."

She didn't know what Sammy meant, but the advice lingered in her mind. Sammy had looked so... so serious. Dark. Like she was remembering something awful - and Kaitlyn wasn't sure why it felt like history was repeating itself even though she didn't know what the exact history was.

"Set your overnight bags wherever you want," She told her friends, double-locking her front door. Then she made sure the windows were locked. And the back door. And the garage was closed.

Okay, maybe she was a little paranoid. Maybe. Could ya blame her?

"Kaitlynnn! Get back in here! We wanna play some stupid party games!" Emma's voice cried playfully from the living-room. Kaitlyn sighed, fondly shaking her head.

The dreaded party games. Well, as long as she didn't try to stir up drama like last time, maybe this wouldn't end awfully. She just needed to steer away from making people kiss and bringing up stuff no one wanted to talk about and boom!

Easy peasy!...

...she was so screwed.

Kaitlyn didn't 'do' careful and considerate. She did blunt and scheming. This could only spell disaster.

She plopped herself beside Dylan, of course, and ignored how her skin felt less thin when his body heat mingled with hers, how her heart slowed from its anxious once when he smiled down at her. Her therapist would call it unhealthy. She called it comforting, and he was her best friend so of course being by him made her feel better.

Codependency? Nope. She doesn't know what that means. Definitely not related to her and Dylan at all.

It was just a little... shared trauma. That's all.

Denial, do not meet Kaitlyn.

"So, we're definitely not playing truth or dare, right?" Kaitlyn asked teasingly, earning several eye rolls from several people, Dylan being one of them. She nudged him with her elbow. "Hey! It was your idea that day!"

"Hmm, was it? Or are you shifting blame," Dylan hummed mock-thoughtfully, and she nudged him again. He nudged her back.

"What? You literally—"

"Let's play seven minutes in heaven." Emma interrupted, smiling wickedly at everyone except Jacob. Kaitlyn was choosing to ignore that for now.

"No."

"Ew, no!"

"God, yes!"

Ryan, Kaitlyn, and Dylan glanced at each other respectively. Ryan narrowed his eyes in playful betrayal at Dylan, who shrugged with a coy, lively smile.

Kaitlyn gaped over at Emma, who also shrugged. "What? If it's so scandalous we can play spin the bottle. Or never have I ever." She said, picking at her nails.

"Nope! Spin the bottle it is. No take backs here." Jacob suddenly said, clapping his hands together. Kaitlyn shot him a disgusted look, and he stared back with a wild, stressed glint in his eyes. Nick and Emma sent him strange, knowing glances.

Weird. So weird.

Kaitlyn threw her hands up in defeat. "Fine. Fine. But no storming away and don't force anything, freaks." She pointed sternly at every one of them just in case they wanted to be stupid tonight.

They all nodded appeasingly.

"Yes, Mom." Dylan said playfully, and she gave him a wagging finger, frowning mockingly at him. He pouted cartoonishly back, and she broke into laughter alongside him.

Fuck. It was so easy to have fun with him.

...but only him.

She felt so guilty when it was just her and... and anyone else. She loved them all, loved Sammy, but... it was different with Dylan. They were forever bonded together in a way that no one else really understood. Kaitlyn would be dead if not for Dylan, and he would be dead if not for her.

She could smile, and laugh, and feel alive when he was with her. It was awful to say, but even with Sammy she didn't feel... real. It felt like a horrible hallucination, like she was still stuck in Hackett's Quarry and any minute she would wake up in the scrapyard searching for a working car.

Sometimes she was horrifically jealous when Dylan would talk about he and Ryan. She would get irritated that he and Ryan were almost as close as she and him were. Often times, she would find herself forcing the subject to change so he'd stop talking about Ryan.

It wasn't like... it wasn't like she had a crush on Dylan. It wasn't that at all - she loved Dylan purely platonically, with a capital P.

She was just... a teensy bit possessive over him. That's all. And she had every right to be.

...Right?

Enough of that. Today wasn't meant to be sad. She was here to smile and have fun with her friend. Friends. They're all here, she forced herself to remember. It wasn't all about her and Dylan. It couldn't be just about them.

She couldn't... she couldn't be dependent on him.

No matter how much she wanted to.

She watched Emma place a random bottle onto the coffee table between them all, and give it a good, long spin. She knew she wasn't the only one to hold their breath as it twirled around and around.

And it landed on—

Dylan.

Emma laughed - and Dylan snorted. The two shrugged playfully at each other and gave each other a chaste kiss, pulling quickly away and wiping disgustedly at their mouths in unison.

"Careful, Ryan, I'm gonna steal your boy," She winked, and Ryan rolled his eyes, tugging Dylan under his arm even as he scoffed disbelievingly.

"Don't think you have the right... uh, parts for him." Ryan said, almost catty. Kaitlyn swallowed her surprised giggle - Ryan was definitely getting more and more sassy the longer he and Dylan lived together. It was a good look on him.

Dylan slapped Ryan's shoulder mock-scoldingly before he span the bottle.

It span and span and landed on—

Jacob.

Kaitlyn bit her tongue, holding her breath. Cuz... even if Jacob didn't want to admit it to himself, she knew damn well he had a massive crush on Dylan, almost as big as his one on Emma during camp.

Dylan giggled in surprise, looking over at a slack-jawed Jacob. "You cool with that?" He asked, his hand reaching up to squeeze reassuringly on Ryan's arm. Kaitlyn could see Ryan's face relax a bit - his slightly jealous expression fading. Cute.

"Uh, y-yeah, totally," Jacob stuttered, dumbly leaning forward toward Dylan. Dylan smirked at Kaitlyn knowingly, and she rolled her eyes back. He was so oblivious with Ryan, but Jacob was always so obvious with his feelings about... well, every single thing that it was hard not to notice.

They kissed, Jacob's hand quickly reaching for Dylan's jaw, but Dylan pulled away as soon as he could. Kaitlyn snorted at Jacob's dejected, dazed look.

He needed to get laid. Preferably by someone not in their group, thanks very much.

Jacob spun the bottle, grimacing to himself as Dylan settled into Ryan's side with a quiet sigh.

And it landed on—

Abi.

Oh boy.

Kaitlyn sat back, relaxing in her seat as Abi's face grew bright red, gaping over at the jock she barely spoke to. They barely brushed their lips together, both horrified. They quickly continued playing, getting pairings like Ryan and Nick (hilarious), Kaitlyn and Emma (which was like kissing a sister), Abi and Dylan (just plain wrong) - before they all got bored and called it quits.

Kaitlyn grabbed some of the empty, discarded beer bottles littered around, heading toward her kitchen - when Jacob joined her, the same look on his face he always got before he told her something awful.

"Uh oh, what did you do?" She joked lightly, setting the bottles on the counter to grab a recycling bag under the sink. She lifted her head in time to see his widened eyes, and the nervous fidget of his fingers at his sides.

"What? Why do you just assume that—" He cut himself off when she gave him a deadpanned look. He never could bullshit her, no matter how hard he tried. Benefits of growing up together.

"You've had 'talks' with Emma and Nick and now they won't look at you. Now you're following me into the kitchen like a kicked dog." Kaitlyn said, crossing her arms. She watched as he closed his eyes, sighing roughly.

She had a real bad feeling about this.

"Okay, fine. Maybe I did do something." He said, voice lowering. She frowned, working her jaw back and forth as she waited for him to continue. He didn't, avoiding her eyes like the plague.

"And?" She pressed impatiently. His ears grew red and he tugged at them, making her soften a little. He'd always done that, even as kids. It was how she knew he was embarrassed about something. Only, back then, he'd been ashamed about something he couldn't control - whether it be his too small clothes from his neglectful father or his growling stomach from a missed meal.

"Well, uh—" He cut himself off when a head popped out from the doorway.

"'Sup guys, need any help in here?" Dylan asked, and Kaitlyn tugged him by the arm to stand by her, smiling in relief now that he was here.

"Dylan! Yeah, please. We all made a bit of a mess—" She started.

"No! I need to talk to Kaitlyn about something in private—" Jacob also started.

They both stopped and glared at each other.

Dylan grimaced at them, hugging himself for a brief moment before he forced a small smirk on his face. "Uh... that's awkward. Should I—" Her heart jumped to her throat.

"Stay." Kaitlyn insisted, tightening her hold on his arm. He obeyed, but Jacob tensed up and protested once more.

"But—"

"Jake. He. Stays." She narrowed her eyes at him coldly. Dylan looked between the two of them, visibly uncomfortable, and Jacob sighed painfully. He looked down at his feet, kicking lightly at the ground in preparation.

"Hey, man, you can tell me. It's okay. You know I won't judge." Dylan said, smiling at him.

"Fuck. Fine." Jacob said wearily, and Kaitlyn saw Dylan's walls slam up in his eyes.

"Jeez, I didn't realize I was that unwanted, Jakey." Dylan said, cold and snarky, taking a half-step back. Jacob's eyes darted to Kaitlyn in hidden panic, and she glared at him to fix this.

"It's not that, man, just... I don't know how to say this. To you." He rushed to say, but his voice weakened toward the end, hands wiping on his shirt in an anxious move.

Kaitlyn smelled some stinky bullshit.

"Us? Or just him?" She asked.

Jacob didn't say anything, his ears bright red and spreading down his throat - and Kaitlyn felt her stomach drop.

"Oh god, Jake what did you do?" She asked, and Dylan frowned questioningly to him by her side.

Jacob's breathing was quick.

"It's not that—okay, it is that bad. Uh, shit. Okay. Just... can we talk somewhere away from the others?" He gestured around, and Kaitlyn sighed, nodding, before turning to look at Dylan.

"Dyl?" She pressed, and he looked unsure. She watched as he glanced down at his left arm for a quick, subtle moment before he turned his face toward the doorway back into the living room.

"Uh, I guess? Can I go get Ryan?" He asked, and she was about to nod when Jacob spat out a quick and panicked:

"NO!"

"The fuck, why?" Kaitlyn spat back, glaring at him full force. "You are being such a dick right now."

"You're acting so sketchy, man." Dylan agreed, shaking his head. Jacob sighed again, pressing his lips together and shaking his head back.

"Just. I wanna tell you two. First. Just you two. Ryan'll beat my face in. And he's got that bad lung so I don't wanna—" Kaitlyn had heard enough.

"Christ, stop being a pussy. Let's sit on the front porch." She said, pointing over toward the door.

Jacob nodded meekly, shutting up, and the three of them headed out to the porch. Kaitlyn sat on the swinging bench to the left, Dylan sitting next to her with a pleasant hum. Jacob stooped on the porch railing in front of them, still silent and visibly nervous.

"You gonna tell us? Or do we have to guess?" Dylan asked, breaking the silence.

"Yeah, you finally get a partner that can actually stand you?" Kaitlyn mocked, nudging Dylan who perked up at the familiar jesting.

"Did your dick finally grow those last three inches?" Dylan grinned over at her. She grinned back as Jacob groaned in annoyance. They gave one each other a solid high-five. Making fun of people together was the best.

"Oh my god, you guys are terrible together. No, to both. It's— Kaitlyn, do you... remember that conversation we had that day, right before the van broke down?" Jacob asked, rubbing his arms with his hands as she frowned in thought.

"About Ryan or about you and Emma?"

"You and Ryan?" Dylan inquired, peeking at her with a fake frown. Kaitlyn rolled her eyes, hitting his arm lightly.

"Oh, shush, you know he's wrapped around your finger, Dylan." He wrinkled his nose at her and she stuck out her tongue - and Jacob clapped his hands together loudly.

"Guys. Stop. This is serious." He demanded, and they both slumped on the bench, making it sway back.

"Okay, sorry. Jeez." Dylan grumbled.

"Yeah, sorry." Kaitlyn sighed, then her mind shot back to what he'd asked. What they'd talked about that day? Before the van... "Wait. Wait wait wait. No fucking way." Her body felt cold. There was no way. No. It couldn't - no.

But Jacob nodded. He fucking nodded at her like this wasn't tearing her entire life apart.

"Yeah..."

Dylan frowned, growing serious as he rested his hand on her shoulder protectively.

"What? What's going on?" He asked, and Kaitlyn stared at him briefly in horror.

If she hadn't told Jacob how to break down the van, if she hadn't fucking forgotten, then Dylan, everyone, wouldn't have...

"Dylan, maybe you should sit this conversation out." She said, voice breaking somewhat. Dylan's frown deepened and his brow began to furrow in the way she knew meant he was getting upset on her behalf, glaring over at Jacob like it was his fault she was freaking out. Which, she supposed, technically wasn't wrong.

"What? No! Fuck that. What's going on?" He said - and for a painful, silent moment, she and Jacob glanced at each other.

Dylan scrubbed at his face, foot tapping on the ground anxiously.

"Seriously. Tell me." He demanded. Jacob gave her a helpless look, and Kaitlyn closed her eyes. Fuck. Why was it always her responsibility? Such a coward.

"Me and Jacob were talking about his breakup with Emma. He... he asked what would be the best option for breaking down the van to stay one more night. I'd thought it was a joke - I didn't think he'd..."

Dylan stared at her blankly. She couldn't identify the lost look in his eyes. Jacob finally spoke up.

"Dylan, man, I'm so sorry, I had no idea that any of that would happen. I—I would take it all back if I could. It was selfish and inconsiderate and it's all my fault."

Dylan looked away, down at his jagged stump.

"Dylan?" Jacob asked carefully. Kaitlyn grabbed Dylan's hand, trying not to show the tremble in her voice.

"Hey, what's going on in that brain of yours?" She asked, desperate for him to do or say anything.

He finally sighed, tugging his hand away from her. He hugged himself, standing up from the bench.

"I just. I need to think. Alone." And he walked toward the door, and she wasn't oblivious to the tears forming in his eyes. Fuck. Fuck, no.

"Wait! Come back—" She stood up, reaching for him, but Dylan slipped inside before she could get the back of his shirt, and Jacob took ahold of her shoulder to stop her from giving chase.

"Kait—" His voice was weak. Kaitlyn struggled in his grip, whipping around to shove at his arm, at his chest.

"No, he needs me! Let go!" She shouted, kicking him in the shin. He grunted, but didn't let her go, only tightening his grip. She fought for a few more seconds before stopping, raising her hands up to cover her eyes.

"Kait..." Jacob took a shaky breath in, releasing her shoulder to instead hold her hands, pulling them away from her face to look into her eyes. "Does he need you? Or do you need him to need you?"

Her face twisted. What was that supposed to mean?

"Wha—I, what are you trying to s—" She sputtered, but his grip on her hands tightened and he shook his head solemnly.

"Kait. Let's ignore my fuck up for a second, okay? You, you need to hear this," She shook her head, tensing wildly up.

"No, no, don't deflect this onto me to avoid the consequences of—" She tried to rip her hands out of his, but he insisted, stepping closer.

"I'm not deflecting! Just lemme talk."

She bit her tongue. She was so... so upset with him. She was upset with herself. She should've known better than to...

Jacob took her silence as permission to talk.

"You and Dylan were together basically the whole night. And then, you were with him practically the whole time he was recovering in the hospital. When he and Ryan moved in together, I could see it on your face that you wanted him to invite you, too."

Kaitlyn shook her head weakly. No. But Jacob kept going, letting her hands go to hold her face, moving her hair out of her eyes.

"You're dependent, Kaitlyn. But I don't think you're both dependent. I think just you are."

Kaitlyn swallowed roughly, pushing at his chest. He let her, stepping back and dropping his hands.

"Stop. I—you don't know what you're talking about." She scoffed painfully, hugging herself. She, she wasn't dependent on Dylan. And... and even if she was, then... so what? He... he needed her. He... right?

She felt her body drop back down onto the bench. She covered her face with her hands and tried to ignore the fact that she was trembling.

This couldn't be happening. She...

Fuck.

Jacob let her stew for a moment, before he took a seat beside her, still giving her a foot of space.

"You invite him to places practically everyday, you get pissy - and don't pretend like you don't - when Dylan brings Ryan with him. I think you're scared of letting him go because he's the only one who knows what you went through that night."

She grit her teeth.

"So... talk to me. I- I know you're upset about what I did, but for now, just... tell me. All about what happened that night, and how you've been dealing with it since."

"I..." Kaitlyn clenched her hands into fists. She'd never talked about this to anyone. No one but Dylan. She... they'd never understand what it meant to her, to them. "We went to the scrapyard, and he saved me. From one of those things. And then—we were at the lodge. I, I hid, in the kitchen with him, and... I wasn't careful enough. The werewolf was going to kill me, and he—Dylan just... he grabbed a pot and started banging it on the ground. He was gonna die, for me. I owe him my life and I just... I can't get the image of his face out of my head."

"But you saved him."

"What?" She jerked her head up to look at him. He looked patiently at her, putting a hand on her knee. She looked down at it, lost.

"You said he was going to die. But he didn't. Because you acted, and you saved him. Right?"

Kaitlyn placed her hand on his, and his hand turned to grasp at hers. She gripped it like a lifeline. Memories flashed of when he did the same to her as kids after a particularly bad fight with his dad or one of his bullies at school.

"You both nearly died for each other. And, that's a bond you'll have for life, okay? But you need to let him go. He—he loves you, okay? But you can't force him to be with you all the time."

Kaitlyn wiped at her eyes, and saw him do the same sympathetically. She huffed a dry, empty laugh, nudging her shoulder against his.

"When'd you get so wise about relationships? I thought that was my job."

He smiled at her, eyes shiny. "Well, heh, I—I guess I'm good at it when it's not my relationship." They laughed together, and it was almost like nothing was wrong, almost like they were dumb kids again having a sleepover and talking about their current crushes at school.  "You okay?" He asked softly. His head dropped to rest on top of hers.

"Yeah. Just. It's hard. I want to chase after him so badly. After..." She closed her eyes, leaning into him briefly. Then, she lifted her head to look at him, and he grimaced knowingly. "What the hell were you even thinking?"

"I... I guess I wasn't. I—she was the first girl I've ever loved like that. I didn't want to let go of that so soon. My whole life, it's been you and me. And you know I love you, and you love me, but, it's... different." He looked away, his hair falling onto his forehead. She reached up and brushed it back into place.

Then she leaned back into him. "I know. Shit, you know I know. I just... really wish you hadn't done that." She said.

He embraced her into his side, a warm, soothing figure in the cool February evening chill.

"I know. I'm sorry." His voice cracked, but she didn't call him out on it. It didn't feel appropriate and... and she didn't have the energy anymore.

She wiped at her eyes again.

"I'm... shit. I'm gonna call my girlfriend. You... can you check on Dylan for me? He might not want to talk to you, but..." She looked up at him, and he nodded patiently.

"Of course." He pressed a short kiss to her forehead, and she leaned into him, closing her eyes to breathe in his familiar scent of aftershave and pine. "I... I love you, Kait." He whispered.

She smiled, biting back a sob.

"Doofus. I love you too."

He fixed her hair after pulling away, smiling at her solemnly. She patted his cheek, and he stood, heading for the door.

She called out. "Hey."

"Yeah?" He looked at her in concern.

She smiled again. "You haven't lost me."

His entire body relaxed, and his eyes shined. He laughed wetly, nodding in relief. "Good. I'm... thank you."

And he went inside.

Okay.

She was alone.

She was...

She was totally freaking out.

Kaitlyn pulled her phone out, trying to ignore the shake and quake of her hands, and typed a message out to Sammy.

Kaity
- can we chat? something happened

Sam<3 is Calling...

Kaitlyn smiled through her blurry vision, and lifted the phone to her ear.

"Hey..."

"What's wrong? Need me to come over and knock some sense into someone?" Sammy's voice had never sounded so welcoming.

"Heh, no, but thanks for the idea. Um... how long you got? This is about to be a long conversation."

"For you? As long as you need."

And Kaitlyn talked.

And talked.

And Sammy never asked her to slow down or stop.

Chapter Text

ABIGAIL BLYG

When Dylan followed after Kaitlyn and Jacob into the kitchen, Abi turned toward the others with an accusing frown. "Okay, what's going on? I can tell something's up." Emma groaned and Nick grimaced - though Abi noticed that Ryan, who was a few feet away looking through his bag, had his headphones in and wasn't hearing them.

"Jacob said he—" Emma started, but Nick cut her off.

"Actually, he said we could tell her." He said, and Abi frowned when Emma's body subtly slumped in relief. "Let's talk in another room, Jacob said he doesn't want Ryan to know yet."

Probably a good idea, Abi supposed. If it was bad enough that he'd been secretively taking people to the side to confess, it made sense to tell Ryan last. Ryan was the quickest to anger, especially ever since that night. Abi thinks it might be because he was the one to pull the trigger on Mr. Hackett.

But before they could get up and move to a more secluded area, Ryan turned to them, tugging off his left headphone. "I'm going to shower and change. If Dylan asks, let him know where I am?" He asked them, and Emma threw on her practiced, smug smirk.

"Trying to 'save water'?" She teased, earning an unamused eye roll from the eldest of the group. Abi nudged her and she gave her an innocent face. "What? It's very environment conscious!" Then, under her breath, but obviously loud enough for Ryan to hear, "...and good for sexy times."

"Oh my god, I'm leaving," Ryan groaned, tossing his bag over his shoulder and heading down the hall with his left headphone back over his ear, loudly blasting something that sounded like cats yowling and electric guitar. Fun.

Abi turned back to her lovers once he was gone from view, and winced at their equally dreadful expressions. "God, is it that bad?"

"Kind of..?" Nick said unsurely, and Emma shrugged back at him. Abi crossed her arms, raising a brow at them both. "Okay, just... the thing is, is that I'm not sure how to feel about what he told me."

"And I'm also not sure. I'm currently torn between 'rage, never gonna forgive him' and 'disappointed, but willing to move on'." Emma said, leaning her head against Nick's shoulder. He held her instinctively close, and Abi smiled to herself briefly at their casual affection before she steeled herself.

"So I'm the deciding factor?" She asked, dry and quick. Emma gave her a pearly smile and Nick whistled a random tune, avoiding eye contact.

Abi closed her eyes, long-suffering at being the voice of reason, but accepted that it made the most sense. She didn't know Jacob, not like the others. They were in the same friend group, but she could count on one hand the amount of times they'd talked to each other, one-on-one.

"Okay. Tell me. I'll be as unbiased as I can."

Emma spilled the news after Nick floundered for a moment. "The van didn't just break down that day. Jacob stole the rotor arm with plans to win me back with the extra night."

Abi nodded slowly, taking in the information with a slow breath. Alright. So. That was shitty. But, given Jacob's track-record of working with his heart and not his brain, it's not completely out of left-field.

And it wasn't like he meant for any of what they went through to happen. Who would've expected there to be werewolves and hunters? Abi knew she couldn't fault him for that at all.

And... well, ignoring a few things, she couldn't help but think about the good things that came out of everything. She had the loves of her life, and they had her. Dylan and Ryan finally got together after two months of painful pining. Abi had become confident in a way she'd never been before.

They were all closer as a group, too. Abi never had too many friends growing up. She was always too weird, too plain, too chubby, too thin, too quiet, too loud - was never enough for some, was too much for the rest.

These guys - they were her people. And... call her insane but... she didn't feel all that upset about the news. It was in the past, and the results from the action weren't at all intentional.

But this wasn't just about Abi. She needed to get more insight before she made her mind up. That was how she operated.

"Okay. And what are your thoughts on this?" She asked Emma, who took in a sharp breath, eyes suspiciously wet. Probably should've expected that - Emma loved to hide her emotions until it was the three of them, and then she was the softest of them all.

"I'm pissed, because he should've accepted my feelings and my decisions. I'm also sad, because I know he didn't know any of that would happen. And... I feel... guilty." Emma wiped at her nose, looking down at her nails, and Abi frowned softly. She nudged Nick's foot, and he nudged back as he cuddled Emma closer to him.

"Guilty?" She prompted when Emma didn't go on.

"If... If I hadn't broken up with him - he never would've..." Emma wiped at her eyes this time, still not looking up. Abi stood from her spot on the couch and joined them on the loveseat, as tight of a fit as it was for three people.

She grabbed Emma's hands firmly. "Emma. Look at me," She said, and waited until their eyes met to continue. "It wasn't your fault. In no world would it be your fault. Jacob made the decision he did because he was being selfish. That will never be on you." Emma shook her head, and Abi squeezed her hands tight. "No, I'm telling you the truth. Nick?"

"Em," Nick joined in staring into Emma's watery eyes, his voice soft and crooning in a soothing, gentle way. Abi always loved the sound of his voice, finding it one of the most calming sounds she'd ever heard, and knew that Emma did too by how her shoulders grew the tiniest bit let tense. "You couldn't have known he would do that. He should've accepted your decision and moved on."

"But - what about the bonfire?"

Here, Abi's head reared back in surprise.

The... the bonfire?

She hadn't thought about that in... hell, since that night. Since the morning after. Judging by Nick's harsh intake of breath, neither had he.

"If I hadn't - if I hadn't chosen you to kiss, we wouldn't have split up and we all probably would have gone to the lodge and been safe all night. We..." Emma bit her lip, falling silent as tears ran down her face, wet streaks blackened with her mascara that Abi had watched her excitedly apply only a few hours ago.

"Em, you have no way of knowing that. What if the next dare had someone storm away anyway? What if a truth made someone get hurt and they left? It was probably inevitable. We were all sad idiots not wanting to leave their friends and their crushes." Abi said, releasing Emma's hands to reach for her face, wiping with her thumbs to clean the tear tracks.

"I mean, can you imagine if Ryan had kissed Kaitlyn? Dylan probably would've stormed off and Ryan would've followed," Nick said loftily, pressing a tender, but chaste kiss to Emma's shoulder. "Then they would've been like me and Abi, attacked by Caleb and Kaylee, and nothing really would've changed."

"Yeah, Dylan does seem like the dramatic type," Emma smiled weakly, easily joining in on the lighthearted jesting. "I bet it would've been, like, tears and flailing around and begging Ryan to finally get his head out of his ass and choose him." Abi shook her head, lips twitching with the urge to join in, but she didn't have the heart to tease Dylan or anyone else.

"No, I don't think so, he's - he's not as theatrical as he pretends to be. I don't think so, at least." She said, then shook her head even harder. "We are getting off topic! Nick, your turn. Emma needs a break from all the emotions."

Emma looked like she wanted to protest, before she likely realized Abi had a point and shrugged in acceptance, scrubbing her face dry as Nick faltered, losing his playful edge just as quickly as he'd found it.

"I... don't know how to feel. I'm... mad, for the others, for what they had to go through that night. I'm mad for you, Emma, because he didn't respect your choices and action. And... I'm mad for you, Abi, because if he hadn't done that, I wouldn't have..." His hand briefly rose to reach up at her, before he grimaced to himself, losing confidence - but she grabbed it before it could fall.

"It wasn't you, Nick," Abi said, and Nick's eyes screwed up tightly, head bowing to his chest as he practically stopped breathing. "You weren't in control. I knew that when it happened, and I know that now. You would never hurt me, and I trust you, you and Emma, more than I trust anyone else in my life."

"What if you hadn't shot me when you had the chance? I would’ve killed you, Abigail," Nick said, and Abi's heart jumped at the sound of her full name on his lips. Emma was watching them with a carefully blank expression, and Abi realized that she'd never been told the story of what happened in the pool house.

"It wasn't you," Emma said before Abi could, and Nick's eyes shot toward her in surprise. Abi let her take over, knowing that Nick wouldn't want to hear it from the lips of the girl he'd almost killed. "I saw Max, in the treehouse. Only... Max wasn't there at all. That thing was mindless. I tased it, I sprayed it with bear spray, and it kept coming after me. It got an entire bookshelf dropped on its back and it still came after me a second later."

Abi's hands pulsed with her heartbeat. Emma never talked about her time alone on the island. Never. But now, as she spoke, there was no fear, no dark tone to her voice. She's just... stating facts, and doesn't seem bothered by it at all. And it wasn't in the fake, acting way Abi could easily pick out. It was real.

"So look me in the eyes and tell me it was you who hurt Abigail." Emma said, almost aggressive as she glared at Nick, who's eyes stared back in a mix of hurt and relief.

Nick's lips wobbled, and his chin twitched with it, and Abi tugged him into her arms before she had to see him cry. Emma joined the embrace, and Abi adjusted for her body to slip between them, her arms around the both of them in a protective circle despite their short length.

She'd protect them to the ends of the earth. She didn't care if she was the smallest of the group, or the most physically weak. They were hers, and she refused to let anything hurt her people.

She let them breathe against her, let them sob and sniffle to their hearts content.

She let them feel.

And when they finally pull away from her, she has her final verdict.

"We forgive Jacob. We don't forget - but we can move past this. We... we can't live our lives bitter and sour over a mistake that should've been a harmless night like every other night."

Nick nodded slowly, and Emma looked as if a heavy weight had been lifted off of her.

"I should have you as a therapist instead of Dr. Hill," Emma joked, voice raspy from crying but Abi wasn't about to call her out on it. Not after they'd finally opened up to each other about that night after half a year of pretending it didn't exist.

"Nah, you really shouldn't. I'd just make out with you the whole time," Abi said boldly, winking at her blonde, and grinned at a snickering Nick when Emma blushed, flattered.

The front door slammed open and shut.

They all jerked their heads toward the sound, and Abi stood up as soon as Dylan appeared in the room.

Something wasn't right.

Something was wrong.

Her hair stood on end.

No no no. She didn’t like this.

"Dylan? Hey, man, what happened?" Nick was right beside her, and Emma hovered behind them with a worried twist to her brow.

Dylan didn't look at them. His eyes were blind to his surroundings, filled with tears that refused to fall. His face was pale, ashen, and he looked around the room with a sort of desperation on his face.

"Dylan?" Abi crept toward him, honestly unsure if he would lash out if she laid a hand on his arm. He wasn't the violent type, but he was acting like Emma sometimes did when someone startled her from behind, or how Nick got if something pulled on his clothes.

Lost, dazed, and mentally in a different place, a different time. She knew exactly the 'when and where' that time was, but unlike with Emma and Nick, Abi was clueless. She didn't know how to help Dylan, didn't know what was triggering him into this state of panic and distress.

His head spun toward her, and he hugged himself with an unconscious move she wasn't sure he even realized he was doing, his hand curling over his stump in a painful, bruising grip. "Where—he, Ryan, where is, where is he?" He asked, voice so weak and shaky that she barely understood him.

But Emma did. "He's in the bathroom, okay? He said to tell you he was there. You should go see him." She said, and Abi held her breath as Dylan nodded absently, nodding far longer than was normal, and he grabbed roughly at his own bag sitting by the sofa, hugging it to his chest like it was the only thing he could do.

He practically stumbled away on unsteady feet, and Abi wished there was something she could do.

But there was nothing. This wasn't something she could fix. Abi wasn't an idiot. She knew that Jacob had told Dylan what happened. And fuck, that couldn't possibly be easy to wrap one's head around. Dylan lost his hand because of Jacob's actions. If Abi lost her hand, she'd... well, she'd probably not function at all, to be perfectly honest.

She scrubbed at the back of her neck, at her arms, trying to rub away the chills growing on her skin. She hated being useless. She allowed Nick to tug her into his arms, both staring at the empty doorway Dylan had run down.

Emma lingered a foot away, also staring. She muttered something under her breath, hands clenched into fists at her side. Then she looked at them, frowning. "I... should we—?"

Jacob entered the room, eyes puffy and face a blotchy pink. His quick pace stuttered to a stop, hands unsurely twisting together under all of their gazes.

"Where's... did Dylan..?"

Nick gestured down the hall. "He needs some time alone, man. He was freaking out."

"I... I promised Kaitlyn that I'd check on him," Jacob said, and Abi, for all her apathy toward Jacob as a friend, felt bad for him. He wasn't doing as good as he liked to act. She could tell that he was one step away from having a mental breakdown.

"That's probably not for the best, right now. I think you'd make it worse," Abi spoke for the three of them, pulling out of Nick's embrace to address Jacob directly. He looked down at her petite form, pressing his lips together tightly.

"They tell you..?"

"Yeah." She said, blunt and dry. She didn't have the urge to sugarcoat her upset with him, for hurting her lovers and for hurting Dylan. Hurting Kaitlyn too, judging by her lack of presence.

Jacob nodded, running a hand through his hair. "Right. Okay. And, are you... uh..."

God. This is why they didn't talk. "You need to accept when people tell you no. You also need to stop being so damn insecure and weird around us." She said, jabbing a finger to him. She saw Emma's mouth drop and Nick's eyes widen, but she wasn't done. "Stop acting like we're the ones making you the outlier. You're the one who always cancels last minute whenever any of us hang out, but then you complain that no one ever invites you out. You're making it about you when it should be about all of us."

Jacob swallowed roughly, nodding at her meekly.

Abi huffed a sharp breath out, dropping her hand and returning to Emma and Nick. Their hands around hers made her lingering tension vanish as Jacob mulled over her words silently.

He broke the silence after a moment, eyes down and away from them. "You're kinda scary, you know that, Abs?"

Abi snorted. Rolled her eyes. And allowed him to change the subject.

"Kinda scary? She's terrifying," Emma boasted, sneering mockingly at Jacob. Abi blushed when Nick nodded quickly, eyes wide with a playful sort of fear.

"Man, she makes me fear for my life most of the time, I tell you!"

But their words make Jacob smile genuinely happily for the first time the entire night.

And Abi may not care much for him - may not know him more than the basics - but he's still a part of her group. He's a part of her people.

And that was good enough for her.

Chapter Text

RYAN ERZAHLER

The shower ran behind him as he undressed, an unrestrained wince leaving him as he pulled his shirt off. He palmed carefully at the puckered, irritated scar under his arm, taking in a steady, yet shallow breath. It was doing better - he didn't need his inhaler 24/7 anymore, and he actually managed to go for a jog the other day.

Ryan tossed his dirty clothes inside of his bag, placing his phone underneath them. He took a slow pause, watching steam roll up and around the bathroom.

He's not an oblivious idiot, not like people tend to assume the second he opens his mouth. He knows that there is something happening with the group tonight. Something that is making everyone on edge as they get picked one by one to the side, being told something. He knows that it involves Jacob, and he has a feeling his lung isn't gonna like him when he finds out.

He stepped into the shower, sighing shortly as his tight muscles relaxed under the pleasantly hot spray. His hands trembled as he grabbed for one of Kaitlyn's many scented body washes, and he resisted the urge to smack them against the wall to make them stop. He didn't do well with drama - never had, never will. But it's gotten worse ever since the night of horror that had changed his life - it's turned him short-tempered, turned him reclusive.

The only one he feels normal with, barring his baby sister Sarah, is Dylan. It's cliche to say it, but nothing impossible with him. Dylan just... understands him, understands his struggles, his reluctance to move forward. It's what makes him keep getting up and out into the world everyday, knowing he had him there to support him with every step. Just like Dylan knew the same support was there for him.

Maybe.

Ryan isn't sure what's happening with them anymore. He knows that Dylan doesn't agree with him going back to camp, that Dylan doesn't want him anywhere near North Kill ever again. He knows this just like he knows that Dylan is disgusted with himself, with his stump, and he knows that even if Dylan didn't blame him, he certainly blamed himself.

Dylan always reassures him that it wasn't his fault, that it had been his choice for him to do it. Ryan disagreed. He'd had the choice to say no, but had panicked under the pressure of Dylan's desperation and pure, genuine terror that he had been incapable of denying him anything. There had been no rational thought in Ryan's mind, all pure instinct and no consideration for whatever came next.

Ryan didn't like when he got irrational. It made his skin crawl in the same way he couldn't wear certain textures without his skin wanting to tear itself off. It just felt... wrong. It made his teeth feel loose and painful, make his nails itch under their beds. It was why he'd been so resistant that night to believe that the supernatural was real - why he couldn't accept the fact that there wasn't a reasonable, human explanation for what happened to them that night.

Sure, he had his podcasts and his healthy dose of hyper-fixation on cryptids and other related creatures, but logically, rationally, he had known that none of it was real. So when he was told there was werewolves roaming around trying to kill his friends, he'd tried so desperately to ignore the truth and try to believe that Chris was a good honest man, the same man that had supported him for years prior when he was just another camper, the one closest with his two children.

Now Chris, his kids, they were all gone. All of Chris's family, except for Sheriff Hackett, were dead. And Ryan had pulled the trigger. He didn't kill all of them, no, Laura had gotten to Kaylee before they'd even properly met her, and Kaitlyn had shot Caleb in a desperate move to save her and Dylan at the lodge. Chris himself had killed the rest of his family, right in front of his eyes.

But Ryan couldn't stop himself from feeling like he could've saved them. Like he could've kept them all alive. If he had been more stern with the group, had refused to allow the bonfire no matter how bored they got with him - they would have spent the night safe in the lodge.

He dragged himself from his thoughts, setting the body wash back where he'd found it as white bubbles and suds ran down his cleansed skin, smelling faintly of vanilla. He hoped the smell wouldn't irritate him later, but for now it was pleasant in the foggy, steamed shower space.

He turned on his heel to look for face wash, and nearly fell back against the wall in shock at the fully-clothed, crying Dylan standing behind him.

"Dylan! What're you even—" He stopped himself short.

And realized what he was looking at.

His soapy hands reached out for his boyfriend, tugging him close and cupping at his cheek to get him to look at him.

"Hey, hey, what's wrong? What happened?" He asked, and Dylan shook his head, trembling under his hands and his pale skin freezing cold despite the steaming bathroom.

"I—I, they said you were in here, I—I needed you—I, he, there was—" Dylan was barely coherent, hyperventilating and heaving between his words, clutching at his stump in a painful grip. Without pause, Ryan forced his hand away and tugged the shaking appendage under his arm, pinning it so he couldn't continue his abusive treatment to himself.

"Hey, breathe, man, breathe," Ryan tried to calm him, fumbling quickly behind himself until his hand caught the shower faucet and turned off the rush of hot water. Once he did, he tugged Dylan's face down to press it into his nape, and his boyfriend hugged him reflexively, practically squeezing him to death.

Ryan didn't care - he hugged back just as tightly.

"What happened? Slow, okay? Take a breath." He unconsciously mirrored his words from that night, in the radio hut, and grimaced to himself. Dylan didn't notice, merely obeying and taking slow, hitching but calming breaths.

When Dylan's panic attack began to ebb, Ryan waited for him to further gather himself, knowing he would speak when he had the strength.

"I... it wasn't my fault." Dylan said.

What?

"What?" Ryan frowned at him, worried, pressing a hand to his forehead. He wasn't feverish, no matter how ill he looked. Dylan shook his head, pulling away from his touch.

"It wasn't my fault. I... I thought it—" Dylan swallowed roughly, stammering, voice wobbling as if tiptoeing on a thin tightrope. Ryan didn't understand.

"What wasn't your fault, Dyl'?"

"The, the van, the," Ryan frowned deeper, his concern growing as he moved Dylan's sweaty hair out of his eyes, his tall boyfriend swaying in place.

"The van? How would that ever be your fault, Dyl'?" Ryan watched Dylan's eyes squeeze shut, watched as he pinched at the space between his eyes stressfully.

"No, no," Dylan sighed painfully, and Ryan was sure that if this wasn't so serious, if this was one of their more playful arguments, Dylan would've been amping up his childish side, whining at his continued, and increasing confusion. Instead, his boyfriend just looked deeply frustrated with himself. "Not the van. That wasn't... Jacob."

Ryan's head shook in confusion. What? What were they even talking about right now? Jacob?

"Jacob? He wasn't your fault?"

"No—I, ugh!" Dylan groaned, slapping at his own face roughly. Ryan grabbed his hand, placing it under his other arm, effectively trapping him in an embrace.

"Hey, hey, don't do that, baby," He whispered, forcing his own breathing to be exaggeratedly even. Dylan mimicked him without thinking, and Ryan was pleased to see the frustrated tension in his boyfriend's frame slowly bleeding out with each loud exhale.

When Dylan could once again meet his eyes without tearing up, Ryan smiled encouragingly at him.

"Good, good," He reassured, holding Dylan's cheeks with his hands. Dylan leaned into his touch, staring at him like he had all the answers. Ryan only hoped he was right. "Now. Slowly, okay? Slow. What are you trying to say wasn't your fault?"

Dylan let out another breath, swallowing roughly with an audible gulp. Ryan let him work through his thoughts, willing to be as gentle and patient as he needed him to be.

"That night. It wasn't my fault. Not-not fully." Dylan began, much more coherent this time.

"What? That night wasn't your fault at all—what do you mean?" Ryan's brows furrowed together, an indignant anger rising in his chest.

Who told Dylan it was his fault?

Who even fucking dared to—

"I—the party, it was my idea, and. I thought. I."

What? He—blamed himself? But.

That.

Ryan shook his head, squishing Dylan's cheeks together briefly in a mock-punishment. Dylan stared at him, wide-eyed, face reddening briefly. Ryan pressed a short kiss to his lips, relaxing his hands back to their casual cradle as he spoke.

"Stop thinking like that, you—none of what happened was your fault. You just wanted to have fun, there was no way you..." Ryan paused, his stomach turning uneasily. Emma's cold looks to Jacob. Nick's blatant avoidance. Jacob's guilty, unsubtle glances at everyone. "What brought this on, baby?"

Dylan pressed his lips together, eyes closing with an agonized expression. Ryan's hands itched to curl into fists, but he kept them on Dylan's face, he kept them soft and inviting and comforting. He couldn't get mad. Not yet. Not until he found out what Jacob did to Dylan. Did to everyone.

"Jacob. He said. He told us - he broke down the van that night. He - he's the one who... who made it so we had to stay."

Ryan's vision tunneled in on Dylan's face.

What?

He- what? Jacob - Jacob did what?

"...What?" He asked dumbly. Dylan's anxiety came back full force, jitters running over his body in twitched and spasms as he tried to pull his trapped arms from under Ryan's. Ryan didn't let him, even as Dylan began to ramble, mouth running quicker than he'd ever seen.

"And, and I, I feel so fucking selfish because this whole time I thought it was my fault that we all got attacked - because if I hadn't suggested the bonfire, we would've been safe and, and —"

Ryan quickly shook his head.

"No, you—"

Dylan didn't seem to hear him.

"—and now I learned that it wasn't completely my fault because we wouldn't have been there at all if Jacob hadn't done that - and I don't know what to do because, because I could still have my hand and you would be happy and so would everyone else and no one would—"

"Dylan!" Ryan shouted. Dylan's mouth fell shut with a quiet 'clack'. "I need you calm down, okay?" He said soothingly, thumbs running slow circles into Dylan's skin.

Dylan leaned into his touch, eyes red and puffy. Ryan watched sadly at the slow descent of a single traitor tear down his boyfriend's cheek. He wiped at it before it got further than the edge of his dark eye bag, which had formed after that night and refused to leave no matter how well Dylan slept at night. Ryan didn't mind; Dylan was always beautiful to him.

Then his mind turned to the news. Jacob caused everything. Jacob was the reason they were there that night. The reason Dylan lost his hand, the reason Ryan nearly lost his lung.

The reason he had to shoot Chris.

A sobbing sigh broke his rapidly darkening train of thought. He quickly looked up at his boyfriend, protectively searching for the problem. He found a pained expression on Dylan's face, a twisted mix of guilt and shame.

"I'm sorry," Dylan murmured painfully, pouty lips twitching with the urge to turn down and voice thick with strained emotion. Ryan stared at him incredulously. Sorry? Dylan, out of all of them, had no reason to apologize. The only one in his eyes that was as innocent as Dylan from that night was Abigail. Maybe, maybe Max, but Ryan didn't know shit about him, didn't know what he'd gone through that night.

"What? No, don't apologize, baby. You have nothing to be sorry for. I, I'm just... thinking." He pressed a kiss to Dylan's nose, and tried to smile at him despite the growing rage in his stomach. He needed to punch something. Preferably something that had a dumb fucking meathead face and had the stupid little nickname Jakey.

Fuck. Deep breaths, Ryan. Not in front of Dylan.

"Doesn't... doesn't look like just thinking." Dylan bit at his lower lip, wiggling his hand until Ryan reluctantly lifted his arm to free it. Dylan poked at the space between his eyebrows. "You've for that furrow in your brow. You're angry, angry at — you're angry." Dylan said, eyes lowering off to the side, getting that dazed, empty look back in them.

Ryan pulled him closer, tugged until his face turned back to his, until his eyes cleared from their confused fog.

"Not at you, never at you," Ryan whispered. It was true, would always be true. He could never be mad at Dylan. Frustrated, yes - he wasn't blind to Dylan's few and far between faults, knew he could be annoying when he couldn't find his off switch. But angry? Never. "Jacob, he really did that?" He turned the topic back on track, hungry for more information on what the selfish, idiotic jock did.

Dylan nodded meekly, not a single hint of his forced persona in his face, in his eyes, in his demeanor. This - this Dylan was the one Ryan fell in love with. Honest and pure of heart, terrified of rejection after a life of constant hurt and disappointment.

"...yeah. He and Kaitlyn told me. She didn't even remember, but she'd given him advice on how to break the van down that night."

Ryan's eyes narrowed.

"Kaitlyn?" He asked. Dylan's face grew a shade paler, if that was possible.

"She, she didn't ever think that Jacob would do that. N-neither did I. But... he did. He - because of Emma, because—"

"Shh, it's okay, baby," He stopped the inevitable rise to panic before it could start up again. He looked down at Dylan's clothes, which were soaking wet from his blind rush to find him. "You're gonna freeze in those. Take a warm shower, okay? I'm gonna go - talk to Jacob."

Yeah. Talk. That's all he going to do. Sure.

"Yeah, yeah, I... that's pro'lly a good idea," Dylan nodded, and Ryan stood a step away, opening the shower curtain to grab his towel. He'd honestly forgotten until now that he wasn't clothed. "Hey... he - he didn't know, okay?" Dylan said, voice soft and almost childlike.

Ryan twisted the towel around his waist, looking over at his boyfriend, who stood, looking not unlike their cat Schrödinger begging for treats. He sighed, smiling at him adoringly.

"Take your shower." He urged, sliding the curtain closed to allow Dylan his privacy despite there being no real need. He'd seen it all before.

"...'kay," There was the sound of ruffling clothes as Dylan undressed clumsily, and Ryan focused on pulling his own clothes on so he could make his way to the others. He had some choice words to be said. "Ry?" Dylan called for him.

He paused from where he was about to grab his bag.

"Yeah, Dyl'?"

The curtain slid open, and Dylan peeked out. "I love you," He said, pale and still recovering from his panic attack - but Ryan had never seen a more beautiful human.

He loved him. He loved him so much it hurt.

He walked back to Dylan, placing a hand on his bare hip. "I love you too," He murmured, leaning up to kiss him. Dylan bent down to kiss back, his hand resting on Ryan's chest and twisting into the cotton material of his shirt.

He didn't want to pull away, didn't want to leave, so he lingered as long as he could. He pulled away when Dylan's hand patted at him, needing air. They pulled away, panting softly, and Ryan rested his forehead on Dylan's.

"You know, I... I don't want to go back to the camp because it'll get me away from you, right?"

Dylan's head jerked from his, eyes wide and confused.

"What? What are you—"

Ryan kept going. He needed to say this.

"I want to go back because I practically grew up there, and I wanted to see if..." He stopped and sighed roughly. Dylan tilted his head at him, and he felt the courage to continue. "I don't know. Something. But... If you tell me 'no', I won't go."

Dylan frowned. He frowned back at the sight.

"But... you want to. You. You said—"

"I know," Ryan cut him off, not unkind, and put his lips to Dylan's jaw briefly in a peck. "But you're more important to me." He whispered.

And meant every word. Every syllable.

Dylan's eyes closed, and Ryan bit his lip.

They'd argued a lot about this. As soon as Laura told him about her and Max's plans, Ryan had admitted to wanting to join them. Dylan had been against it, vehemently.

"I don't know why you're so mad about this, Dylan! I just want to help them out!"

"After everything we went through that night, you want to go back? Fuckin—leave us all behind and play happy little camp counselor like nothing happened?"

"Dylan, no—!"

"Because that's what it's sounding like. And what, what am I supposed to do for two months? Pray that you don't get abducted for two months like they did? Hope to god that Silas was the key to ending the curse and there aren't more of those things out there? Sit and wait for you to come back while you and Laura flirt to your hearts content?"

"'Flirt with Laura'? Are you hearing yourself?"

"Oh, sure, that's ALL you got out of what I said."

"I just want closure, okay? Is that so bad?"

"Oh, don't give me that shit."

"'Shit'? What 'shit'? Me wanting to get over what happened? You're being a child, Dylan."

"Me? Hah. ...Yeah, you know what? I'm staying at Kaitlyn's tonight. Have fucking fun."

"...Dylan, wait."

"No. I'm not listening anymore."

That had been one of the more kind arguments. Dylan could get pretty nasty and petty when he got genuinely upset. Ryan always felt so guilty afterwards because he knew Dylan was right. It was dumb to want to go back after what happened. He had no idea why Laura and Max, after everything those two had gone through, were so willing to take the camp over.

"What if - what if we went with you? All of us? Maybe, maybe it would... would help. Us."

He looked up at Dylan in surprise. Dylan was deadly serious, expression a blend of reluctant and thoughtful. This was the furthest Dylan had come to discussing his own closure.

He shook his head. Dylan shouldn't force himself to do something he didn't want to - especially for Ryan's sake. No matter how much they fought about it, Ryan would never do anything that made Dylan uncomfortable or upset, even if he considered it. Besides...

"I don't think anyone would want to, baby,"

Dylan shook his head right back.

"They would if everyone went; they would if - if they knew everyone else agreed," Dylan wet his lips anxiously, "And... I want to compromise. I hate fighting with you. About anything. And, I know this is important to you. It's just. Hard. For me."

Ryan lowered his eyes. That... that wasn't totally crazy to think about. Not only would it reassure Dylan to be able to stick by him, but everyone would be able to get closure about that night by going.

But. Not all of them. Not if Ryan had anything to say about it.

"Maybe. You - you might be right," Ryan stepped back, nodding to himself briefly. They'd have to shelf this conversation, despite it needing to be discussed. This wasn't the place, nor the time. "Take your shower, okay? Just... if you need me, yell,"

Dylan smiled tiredly at him.

"Always."

He made his way to the living room where the others were talking. There was a burning fire in his chest, his eyes, his ears, all throbbing in tune with each stomping step he took forward.

How fucking dare Jacob?

He'd hurt them. His friend. His Dylan. He hurt all of them because, what? He wanted to get his dick wet? What. A. Fucking. Prick.

"Ryan?" Nick saw him first, jerking upright from the couch, probably from the look in his eyes.

Ryan didn't care.

He lurched forward, his arm swinging, and connected solidly into Jacob's smug fucking face.

He smiled vindictively as the jock stumbled back, clutching at his bleeding nose.

"Shit, Ryan!" Emma gasped in shock, tugging a gaping Abigail into her side, Nick hovering just behind them, but Ryan ignored them all in favor of kicking at the back of Jacob's leg, knocking him solidly to the floor with a satisfying thud.

"Man, stop!" Jacob begged, but Ryan kicked him in the gut this time. "I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!"

"Hey, stop it! It's enough!" Emma demanded.

"Ryan, he's done!" Abigail said.

"The fuck he is. It's all his fault!" Ryan said, sneering, and went to aim a third kick when a voice called out to him.

"Ryan! Are you fucking crazy?" Kaitlyn rushed into the room, shoving him back. He stumbled, glaring aggressively down at Jacob, but didn't rush forward again. Kaitlyn jabbed a finger at his face. "How fucking old are you?! You can't just—"

"It's his fault, Kaitlyn—all of it! Dylan's hand, Nick hurting Abigail, Emma nearly dying, me killing Chris—none of it would've happened if he'd just put his fucking dick away and been a decent person." His voice was low, gritty, and more than a little nasty.

Jacob stumbled upright, clutching at his stomach in pain, but Ryan was pleased to see no one rush to see if he was okay. "Ryan, man, I'm so sorry. You have every right to be furious with me, but please—"

"Please what? Don't hit you? Don't hate you? You think you saying sorry is going to magically make it all go away? Going to bring Dylan's hand back? You're a selfish prick, you know that? What, your daddy didn't love you enough as a kid so you now don't know how to accept when someone tells you no?"

"Hey, that's too far—" Kaitlyn tried to defend, but Jacob stopped her. His face was dark, but not angry. Just, accepting. That alone pissed Ryan off even more.

"He's right, Kait. I—he's not exaggerating or being unfair. I, if I hadn't messed with the van, we wouldn't had been there that night. He has every right to hate me. I could do without being hit, but, I can't expect him to forgive me. Just like I can't expect any of you to forgive me."

"Jake—"

"We do. Forgive you, that is." Abigail said, gesturing to herself and her two partners.

Ryan glared at them all. Just like that? After all they went through, nearly dying and going through horrors unimaginable to other people their age, they just... forgive him? Even Emma?

He didn't get it.

Kaitlyn looked between them all, calculating and careful. He hated the look on her face when she eyed him. She was disappointed in him - in what he did. He hated it, because he knew he went too far. He just... he couldn't control himself anymore.

She sighed, crossing her arms and quirking a brow at him. He fought a grimace, raising his own brow back. They stared blankly at each other, waiting for the other to break, neither wavering.

Abigail cleared her throat, breaking the tense silence. "Is Dylan okay?" Ryan glanced at her, muscles relaxing slightly.

"Not really. I got him to calm down, but - I'm not sure he can handle being in the same room as Mr. No-Means-Yes." Kaitlyn scoffed at him, and he sneered back, defensive. Why was she taking Jacob side so insistently? Did she forget what she went through because of him?

"Alright, let's separate," Emma stepped between them abruptly. Ryan stepped back, rolling his eyes, noticing Kaitlyn do the same. Emma huffed and fixed her hair as she continued. "It's getting late, and I have a feeling some of us don't want to sleep in the same room as... certain people. So, how about this—"

She twirled and gestured to Ryan, crooking her finger at him to come closer. He didn't move, staring at her blankly, and bit back a smirk when she deflated somewhat.

"You never play along," She sighed pitifully, and then, continued as if it'd never happened, "You and your man will sleep in Kaitlyn's guest room. Me and my nerds get the master, obvs, Kaitlyn gets her own room, and Jacob gets the living room. I figure a night on the couch is a good temporary punishment," She swung in a circle, staring between them all determinedly.

They all stayed quiet. Ryan bit the inside of his cheek, wanting nothing more than to leave with Dylan in tow and never look back. This was the worst. Fuck. If it wasn't for Dylan, he'd ghost the hell out of these people and never talk to them again.

"Fine. Go team. See you in the morning, where I hope we're less… punch-y," Emma stuck out her tongue toward him, and he scowled back in reply. She giggled, grabbing her partners' hands and tugging them both along with her. "Don't worry, Ry-Guy, we agree with you, just not as much seething hatred." She smiled conspiratorially, and then she was gone.

Ryan turned his glare to the remaining two.

Jacob began blabbering, wiping at his nose which was, Ryan suddenly noticed, no longer bleeding. "Man, I really am sorry, and I know you won't ever forgive me, but I, please just, don't, don't hate me forever. I, you and the others are my only friends I've had that haven't left the second I fucked up, and—"

"I don't care what you have to say to me right now," Ryan groaned, rubbing at his eyes. His scar itched uncomfortably. He'd feel sore in the morning from the punch. "I'm too tired. And angry. Just - fuck off, okay?"

"...okay." Jacob mumbled, backing down and plopping onto the couch without another word.

Kaitlyn ticked her jaw to the side, still glaring at him viciously. Ryan stared back, all his anger vanished and replaced with exhaustion. He wasn't mad at Kaitlyn - just mad at her support for Jacob. Childhood friends or not - this was serious shit, and she was acting like it was something forgivable after one apology.

"Hey."

Dylan. Ryan whipped his head over, seeing his lanky boyfriend standing in the doorway. His hair was still wet, but he was dressed in his pajamas and hugging himself, eying between the the two of them anxiously like a kid who's parents were arguing.

"Hey, you okay, Dyl'?" He asked, relieved to be able to depart from the staring match with Kaitlyn, and walked over to Dylan rather than stand and gape at him.

"Yeah. Uh. Still need time to think. But. Uh."

"You and Ryan can get set up in the guest room," Kaitlyn said, voice soft and sweet toward Dylan as if she hadn't just sneered and spat at Ryan like he'd kicked her dog in front of her. A part of Ryan wondered how his life would've been if he had fallen for her instead of Dylan - if she would take Jacob's side still if they were together.

But he immediately threw that thought out, a tiny shiver of disgust running through him. He'd never choose her - no matter how wonderful she was (upset with her or not she was still his close friend) - not when he had Dylan.

"Okay," Dylan said, smiling at her in that special way of his that had her smiling back easily, as if this night had never happened - as if they hadn't all found out the truth. Dylan was good at that - at easing the tension even when it seemed impossible for anyone else. Ryan admired it as much as he envied it.

"Get some sleep, okay? Tomorrow, tomorrow we can all... talk." Kaitlyn said, holding her hand out toward Dylan. Ryan shoved the urge to hold Dylan back as his boyfriend reached back to her, their hands squeezing together reassuringly.

"You get some sleep too, okay? That also means you, Jacob." Dylan said, earning a big-eyed look from Jacob by the couch. This time, Ryan didn't hold back his impulse to step forward, somewhat blocking the meathead's view of his boyfriend.

He had no intention of forgiving him. Even if Dylan tried to move on, Ryan refused. He'd never liked Jacob, not even back at camp before it all happened. Jacob never liked him, either.

They'd always fight, picking on each other at every possible chance. Jacob had always seemed to enjoy antagonizing him in a cruel, unfounded way, completely unlike the flirty, lighthearted way that Dylan loved to do.

If Ryan and Dylan were compatible in every way, he and Jacob were the direct opposite of that.

He would rather choke than forgive Jacob for his selfish actions that night.

You could call Ryan selfish for it, could call him a close-minded moron, sure.

But Jacob hurt his friends, hurt him.

And Ryan?

Well, he just couldn't forgive that.

Chapter Text

DYLAN LENIVY

He jerked awake, gasping silently for breath.

The clock on the bedside table said 5:30 AM.

He went to run his left hand through his hair, but stopped short when he remembered. He closed his eyes painfully, dropping his arm down into his lap as his remaining hand finished the motion instead. Pins and needles rang through his limb, twitching and pulsating down to phantom fingers that ached to move, to curl.

It was supposed to get easier, his physical therapist said - but Dylan thought it was a crock of shit, because it's been six months and he's never felt worse in his life. The sensitivity in his nerves, a ghostly, yet persistent feeling of the chainsaw ripping through bone and muscle that made moving his arm agony half the time. He always found himself reaching with his left hand only to find air and a crippling sense of dread at having forgotten.

The phantom pain isn't as bad as the stares.

He'd lasted exactly two weeks before he stopped going to class and switched to online. If it wasn't about his hand, it was about Hackett's Quarry in general, and the public's split opinion on whether their story was true or not about the bears. On his second day he'd already gotten asked five separate times if it was true that a bear ate his hand or if he was lying.

Two weeks - and then he'd lost his absolute shit inside one of the bathrooms and never looked back, holing up in he and Ryan's apartment to struggle his way through basically teaching himself quantum physics. Ryan, who, after his own freak out at his college, hadn't chickened out like him. No, Ryan was stronger than him, and didn't run away once it got hard. It's what Dylan always admired about Ryan even if he was also grossly jealous of it.

Dylan sighed, looking down at Ryan sleeping beside him. Just seeing him calmed his heart a little bit more. He placed his clammy hand on his boyfriend's (and wasn't that a dream! they were actually boyfriends!) back, smiling to himself.

He's... he's glad they talked. About what's been going on with them. Dylan's never had a boyfriend like Ryan, one where every moment without him felt like forgetting how to breathe. One where he felt like he could be Dylan Dylan without worry of Ryan losing interest the second he stopped pretending to be someone he wasn't. With Ryan, everything felt possible.

Everything.

He took a sharp breath in, swinging his legs up and out of bed. He grabbed his bag from its place by the door, opening it up. He dug toward the bottom, fingers latching onto it.

He grabbed it and lifted it from the bag.

He stared down at it for a moment, feeling a bitter taste form in his mouth, before he ripped his eyes away and left the guest bedroom.

He crept toward the sleeping figure in the living room, kneeling down and poking him in the face. Jacob's face winced at the touch, but he barely stirred. Dylan rolled his eyes.

"Hey, wake up," He whispered, poking Jacob's face again. Jacob frowned, swatting at him.

"No... sleeping..." He murmured, and Dylan's eyes narrowed.

"You fucker." He grumbled. He rose his hand a few inches above the other man's face. "I'll flick your nose, don't think I won't—" Jacob's eyes shot open and he sat up hurriedly.

"Fine! Fine. Don't flick me, who DOES that?" He said quickly, and then finally realized who was talking to him. "Oh. Hi Dylan." He waved dumbly. Dylan deadpanned at him.

"Yes, hi Jacob." He said.

They stared at each other for a moment. All the things left unsaid from yesterday night. Dylan wanted to smack him, add another bruise onto his face from Ryan's justified reaction. He didn't. He waited until Jacob, uncomfortable, spoke up again.

"What uh... whatcha doin', man?"

He held out what he'd brought with him.

"Help me put it on."

"Put what—oh."

Jacob looked down at the prosthetic hand Dylan was holding out to him. Dylan's skin was cold.

"Yeah. Totally, man." He finally agreed, taking the prosthetic from him gingerly.

"There's a wrap in the socket, you've gotta put it on my," Dylan gestured silently toward his stump in favor of not saying the word. It was still hard to admit it to himself. Jacob nodded, carefully setting the hand aside to begin wrapping along Dylan's wrist.

"Like, uh, like this?" He asked. Dylan nodded, mouth dry.

"Yeah, wrap it real thick so it won't chafe."

"'kay, got it." Jacob's tongue poked out slightly as he focused.

Dylan's jaw clenched.

"I'm furious with you. Did you know that?"

Jacob's hands slowed their movement. He bowed his head.

"I know." Jacob said.

"I wish I'd been there to see Ryan kick your ass."

"I know." Jacob said.

"I wish I'd been there so I could've joined in."

"I know." Jacob said.

"I hate you for what you did."

Jacob opened his mouth.

"If you say 'I know' one more time I will actually punch you here and now." He said firmly, glaring down at Jacob.

"I kn—uh. Sorry." Jacob flushed; grimaced to himself. Dylan look a slow breath, working his courage up.

"For the longest time, I thought that night was my fault, you know? That there was no one to blame but myself for everything that happened. But then you come along and... my entire brain has been turned on it's axis."

Jacob stared at him, hands frozen in place.

Dylan kept speaking. Couldn't stop.

"Do you know..." He swallowed, and thought back to only a few minutes ago, to his life the past six months of sleepless nights. "...how many nightmares I've had since that night? Of my hand being sawn off, of it being more than just my hand. Of someone else losing their hand instead. Or worse. Some nights I dream that everyone agreed with me, that it was all my fault and they all hate me. And then some nights I'm at the scrapyard with Kaitlyn and I'm not fast enough, and she dies."

He looked down at his stump. Jacob's eyes joined his hesitantly.

"And, if my dream a few minutes ago is telling me anything, it's that my brain won't let me accept that it wasn't my fault. No matter how rightfully angry I am right now, I don't think I'll ever feel not to blame. I don't think I'll ever... be better. Ryan, the others, even you, help. But. It's not enough sometimes."

Dylan's lips trembled and he bit them together, lifting his arm out of Jacob's hold to finish the wrapping himself. As he fixed the velcro in its spot, he spoke, refusing to look up.

"Jacob, I hate myself." He admitted.

"Dylan..."

He held his hand up to stop Jacob. He didn't need reassurance. He didn't need more lies. He just needed to tell someone. Someone who understood, probably better than anyone else would. Maybe Jacob didn't understand, not really, but it was the best option Dylan had at the moment.

"I can't even look in the mirror most days. I... I can barely eat, sleep. When I'm with Ryan, sometimes all I can think about is him sawing my arm off, my blood on his face - and I... I'm scared of him. And then as soon as I think that, I'm just... disgusted with myself. Because it was my idea, and I forced him to do it, but then he'll raise his hand too fast towards me and I just freak out."

He looked up at Jacob. The other man was pale, shaken by his honest words. Dylan felt the urge to smack him once more. How dare he?

"I'm just... I'm so fucking angry with you. My life, everyone's lives, wouldn't be like this if you hadn't done what you did." Dylan stubbornly ignored the burn in his eyes, ignored the tears in Jacob's. "And I don't think I can ever forgive you for that."

Jacob closed his eyes, and lowered his head.

"...Okay."

Dylan grabbed his prosthetic, allowing Jacob the time to recover from his words. He slipped it on for the first time since getting it fitted at the clinic. It was snug, and heavy on his limb. It was lifeless and lacked any movement - cheap and all he could afford at the moment.

He hated it.

He forced himself to brighten his tone.

Somewhat.

"Now. We're going to make some breakfast for everyone. We're going to be all mature and shit, and when me and Ryan leave, I want you to stay away from us." He said, watching Jacob's broad shoulders curl into themselves.

"...okay." Jacob agreed timidly.

Dylan sighed, ran his hand over his prosthetic, and kicked Jacob's ankle softly.

"Not... 'lose my number forever', okay? But. This isn't something I can just... forgive and forget. Definitely not something Ryan can do, either. And if he says we're done with you? I'm not gonna argue. But... for now, that door's not closed." He said.

Jacob's eyes were shiny. Dylan politely ignored it.

"Understood," Jacob breathed, sniffling wetly to himself. Dylan stood, holding his hand out to the man to help him up. Jacob accepted the help, and followed him silently to the kitchen.

As Dylan rummaged through the refrigerator, Jacob spoke up. His voice firm, determined.

"Can I talk, now?" He asked.

Dylan closed his eyes briefly, but willed himself to nod.

"Okay. Go for it." Jacob had listened to him and hadn't tried to tell him it would get better. The least he could do, upset or not, was listen back.

"I don't expect you to forgive me. Hell, I... I don't really understand why the others can even look at me, especially Emma. So... you can hate me, all you want. But... thank you. For. For not just. Giving up." Jacob said.

"Yeah." He nodded, once.

Of course he wouldn't give up on Jacob. They'd been close back at camp and they were close now, even if all Dylan wanted to do was call Ryan in here and go to town in beating his face in. A part of him never wanted to see Jacob again - but the rest of him remembered all the times they had hung out since meeting, how stupid and well-meaning Jacob was and how deep down, all the jock wanted was to be loved.

"Ryan, he... he has a helluva right hook, y'know?" Jacob said, light and hesitant. "Nearly broke my nose."

Dylan laughed. "Hell yeah he does." Pride rang through him. No shit, his boyfriend kicked ass.

Jacob laughed, too. If it was shaky and relieved, Dylan wasn't about to mention it.

"He ever play soccer? I've got a boot print on my chest and, lemme tell yah, leagues would love him." Jacob gestured to himself. Dylan rolled his eyes, and handed over a carton of eggs.

"You're so dumb," He groaned, joining the other by the stove.

"I wouldn't be me if I wasn't, right?" Jacob said, nudging him in the side.

Dylan sighed, and shook his head to himself. He looked at Jacob, really looked at him. He looked exhausted. He looked sad.

But he also looked relieved. Like a weight was off his shoulders. Dylan realized it was because, for the first time since that night, Jacob had nothing to hide from them. Anything moving forward was free from his secret holding over him.

"Right," He finally agreed, looked down at the loaf of bread in front of them. Jacob wouldn't be Jacob if he wasn't an idiot. A soft, lovable idiot that Dylan hated.

They carefully began to make breakfast, trying and failing at being quiet. Being two of the three clumsiest people in the group (Abi was the third), Dylan admitted this was an awful idea.

Right as Dylan grabbed an egg to crack, Kaitlyn entered, bleary and half-awake. She paused and looked between them and her kitchen with an expression of horror.

"What."

Jacob looked over from his spot near the toaster, grinning at her.

"Hey, Kait! How do you feel about scrambled eggs and buttered toast?" He asked, and she rubbed at her eyes desperately.

"What."

"Granted, ol' leftie here isn't so good on cracking eggs anymore, so we might need to change our game plan, Jake." Dylan said, blasé, holding up his left hand with a disappointed shake of his head, and Kaitlyn nearly ripped her hair out when all Jacob did was harrumph and waved his hand dismissively.

"Oh my god, just... away from my stove, you absolute disasters." She groaned, hip-checking Dylan away from the pan on the stove, taking the egg with her.

"What?" He placed his prosthetic hand on his chest dramatically. "I'll have you know, Nick has given me many tips on the culinary arts!"

Kaitlyn stared at him. He grinned back.

"You can butter the toast."

"I can butter the toast!" He cheered, holding his arms in the air in celebration.

"Wha—what about me?! I was helping!" Jacob whined, and Dylan sat back on the counter to watch as Kaitlyn slowly turned toward her best friend with a dangerous look in her eyes.

"Jake, last time I let you cook, you gave my dog asthma." She said. Jacob gaped at her briefly.

"Kait, that was so long ago!" He complained, and Kaitlyn narrowed her eyes at him.

"It was two months ago."

"He didn't get asthma, okay, just..." Jacob tried to explain to Dylan, but Kaitlyn cut him off with an imploring look.

"Asthma, Dyl. Asthmatic. Dog." She said, solemnly shaking her head.

Dylan nodded at her sympathetically, patting her arm soothingly. She smiled impishly at him as Jacob grumbled a few feet away.

Emma suddenly entered the kitchen, her hair wild and dried drool on her cheek. Gorgeous, honestly. A visionary.

"What is all the NOISE in here?" She griped, and then, like Kaitlyn, took in the mess around her. She was visually speechless for a moment before she shook it off, losing her irritated edge to come over and give them hugs. "Good Morning, Kait, Dylan!" She pulled from Dylan to glared over at the jock. "Jacob."

Oh, good. He was still in the doghouse with the others. Dylan (and Ryan) had been worried they'd already 100% forgiven him. He hated being the odd man out.

"Emma." Jacob said back, long-suffering.

Kaitlyn grabbed Emma's arm and shook it with a reverence.

"Oh thank god. Get these two away from my kitchen." She begged. Emma saluted, grinning at her.

"Ma'am, yes, ma'am!" She twirled and pushed at Dylan's chest, crooking a finger toward Jacob, too. "Move it, boys, one foot in front of the other!" She demanded. Dylan pouted at her.

"Wha—? But I haven't buttered the toast! It's my one job, Kait!" He called to her, earning a blank stare.

"The toast isn't even toast yet!"

Dylan blinked over at the toaster, at the bread slices still waiting to go in. "Oh. Right. Heh," He snickered to himself.

Emma noticed his hand.

"Oooo, can I see?" She asked, tilting her head at him pleadingly. His stomach flopped.

"Uh... sure," He let her lift his hand into hers, and watched as she carefully ran her fingers over the stiff, dead limbs. He felt an urge to explain its lackluster appearance. "It's not a fancy... 'cyborg' one. I'm not made of money, y'know? It's mostly just for show."

Emma shook her head at him, smiling to herself.

"Nah, Dyl, it's... it's really cool," She let his hand go, and bumped her head into his shoulder. He felt his lips twitch at her antics as she continued, perking up at him. "Maybe we can all save up money for one of those fancy ones, yeah? It can be your upcoming birthday present."

"Yeah?" He smiled.

Emma nodded eagerly.

Nick and Abi enter, looking like utter opposites. Nick looked perfectly put together, not a curl out of place - and Abi... in the nicest way possible, Dylan thought she looked like a very disgruntled raccoon.

"Oh good, the real chef is here," Kaitlyn breathed out in relief, and Nick looked over from where he was greeting Emma with a kiss.

"Pastry chef, not..." He stopped and peered close to the pan in front of Kaitlyn. "Uh. Kaitlyn. It... Should it be that color?" Kaitlyn looked down and widened her eyes.

"Oh SHIT!"

Nick rushed over to help whatever... that was.

Abi groaned, leaning into Emma's side. Her blue hair was like a nest, and she yawned as she said, "It's too early..." Dylan snickered at her.

"You look like a zombie," He teased.

"Urgh, screw you too..." She flipped him off with a wavering hand.

"Gasp! How rude!" He leaned backwards against Jacob, feigning a mortal wound. "I didn't know yah had it in you, I'm so proud." He wiped at his dry eyes. Emma smirked, hugging Abi close as Dylan straightened back up.

"I wish I could take credit, but sadly she's just... really crabby in the morning." She winced.

"Need. Coffee." Abi bemoaned. Jacob snapped his fingers in realization.

"Coffee! That's what we were forgetting!" He said.

"Ohhhh. Right... Oops." Dylan hissed awkwardly as Abi stared at them with mournful, betrayed eyes.

Ryan entered the kitchen with a very disgruntled expression. Dylan perked up, something in his skin settling pleasantly at the sight of him.

"If you'll excuse me, ladies, and Jacob, I've got to greet my beautiful man." He smiled, leaving with a small skip to his step toward his boyfriend.

He took both (both) of Ryan's hands into his, no matter how sloppy his left hand did it, and pressed a kiss to Ryan's cheek. Ryan sleepily leaned into his touch, eyes glazed over with sleep.

"Sleep okay?" Dylan asked, leaning his face into Ryan's nape in an embrace that was returned without question.

"Decent enough. You weren't there when I woke up." Ryan complained, letting his right hand go to poke him in the side. He wriggled at the ticklish feeling, but didn't pull away.

"Nightmare. Couldn't get back down, you know how it is." He said, and Ryan just nodded, taking his hand back and thumbing at his skin.

The others were finishing up breakfast behind them, it sounded like, but Dylan didn't care for them at the moment. Not with Ryan in his arms.

"Do you want to stay for breakfast, Ry? Say the word and I'll come up with an excuse." Dylan said, lifting his head to look Ryan in the eyes. Ryan glanced coldly toward Jacob, lingering with a dark look to his eyes, before he sighed and shook his head.

"No, it's... I wanna stay. Just because... I'm angry at him, doesn't mean I should ruin the... 'vibe'." He said, voice turning awkward at the last word. Ryan was awful with slang. It was very endearing for someone savvy with it.

Dylan smiled. "Okay, we'll stay. But for real, one word and we are OUT!" He snapped his fingers quickly for reference. Ryan huffed a laugh, his eyes rolling to the heavens.

"I know. Thanks." He said, and Dylan preened, grinning down at him.

"Always," He winked, and this time Ryan gave a special little smile, just for him.

"Always." Ryan agreed, and the two turned to help set up the table for breakfast.

So, Jacob stole the rotor arm. And maybe their group would never be the same because of this news. Dylan knew that. He understood that.

A part of him would never forgive Jacob. A part of him was furious that they were even letting Jacob stay a part of them.

But another, smaller part of him... was oddly glad it happened.

He was where he was today because of what Jacob did. He was wrapped in the arms of the boy he would forever love because of it. He had friends that he knew were forever because of it.

He wasn't sure where they would all go from here.

But Dylan knew...

He knew it would be okay.

They had each other.