Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

He really needed to figure out how to tell the difference between his anxiety and his intuition. As soon as the sun went down, Dylan regretted the party immediately. Due to his unconventional upbringing, being out at night, especially in the woods, without any form of weapon in his hands terrified him. It didn’t help that he knew for a fact that tonight was a full moon. Nights in general were dangerous, but new moons and full moons were by far the worst of them.

Initially, he had proposed truth or dare as a way to keep his mind off of where he was, and it worked for a while. Ryan kissing him was an unexpected but very welcome distraction. However, that plan ultimately backfired as soon as people ran off on their own, and he was right back to internally panicking. During his time at Hackett’s Quarry he had found no substantial evidence to suggest any form of monster lurking in these woods. He very well could be freaking out over possibilities that had next to no chance of happening. Granted, he also hadn’t searched very hard, something he very much regretted at this point. Heaven forbid he wanted to be a regular teen for two months.

He took a deep breath that earned an odd glance from Kaitlyn. Maybe he should be devoting more attention to participating in the conversation if he doesn’t want his friends to think he’s weird.

It was during that thought that they heard a scream from just beyond the tree line.

“That sounded like Abi-” Ryan was apprehensive to point that out, likely from the fear the reality brought.

“Oh my gosh!”

“Uhh…” Dylan felt sick. All of the anxiety he’d been pushing down came back full force. The dam had broken, his vision was swimming, and he swore he was about to throw up.

Ryan was the first to recover from the shock. “We gotta help her-”

“Wait, where did it come from?” Kaitlyn followed shortly after.

“This way! Come on!”

All three of them had stood immediately upon hearing the scream. Kaitlyn and Ryan rushed over to find Abi; unlike Dylan, who stood there being useless. His hands were shaking and his breathing was fast while he tried to will away the overwhelming need to hurl.

In his head, his own voice spoke to him with a bored tone, “quit standing around, you clearly have work to do.”

Abi was stumbling out of the trees, shaking, terrified, and semi-incoherent. “Help! Please… Nick! Help him!”

“You weren’t raised to freeze in tough situations.”

The surroundings moved by in a blur, the impact of his feet hitting the ground was the only sensory input he was really registering at that point. The need to find his friend beat out every other thought in his head. If he had some of his sense left, he’d be considering all the different creatures you should absolutely not run from lest you activate their hunting instincts. Alas, he wasn’t thinking when he took off into the woods that, at the very least, had a dangerous animal in it. When his mind caught up to what he was doing he distantly heard Ryan and Kaitlyn talking before he heard the sound of someone running after him. Hopefully whoever that was had the forethought Dylan didn’t to actually grab the gun first.

As Nick came into view, Dylan slowed his step slightly. Normally, he wouldn’t have, he would have sprinted straight up to Nick, but he noticed movement. This movement turned into a man in overalls. A very large man in overalls. With a gun. Dylan stopped moving. The man was much closer to Nick than he was, he’d never be able to grab Nick and get away fast enough. And the man had a gun, Dylan didn’t. His eyes flicked from the gun to Nick who was absolutely covered in blood. Great. Dylan could only hope a normal animal did all that.

The large man grabbed Nick by the back of his shirt and began dragging him away, which caused him to let out a pained groan. The man was making eye contact with Dylan and it seemed almost cocky. Nick’s life was in danger, one of the only friends Dylan has ever had, and he wasn’t doing anything about it.

‘Shit, that guy might not even be human.’

Dylan’s legs carried him forward again. He was unsure what he was going to do, he just knew he had to do something. He barely made it a few steps before getting interrupted again, this time by Ryan sliding in front of him with a shotgun, already raised.

“Stop or I’ll shoot!” Ryan was trying to be commanding, but his underlying fear was evident in his voice. This close to him, Dylan could also see the nervousness in his posture; a small tremor in his hands.

As much as Dylan wanted to blush and get lost in the fact Ryan was literally trying to protect him right now, Nick was still very much in danger. Your friend bleeding out and getting dragged away by a crazy man in the woods can really put a damper on the mood. So, instead of giggling or making some flirtatious joke, Dylan said something practical, ugh. “Ryan, the spread; you’ll hit Nick,” he whispered. He tried to say it as quiet and as close to Ryan as possible, not ruling out the possibility that the man had much better hearing than a human being.

Upon hearing the threat, the man paused. A second passed, then two. Slowly he started dragging Nick along again, testing. When Ryan made no move to do anything, didn’t even put his finger on the trigger, he moved faster. The man even smirked, and this time he was definitely cocky. Dylan had to suppress a groan. His fear had mixed with a flare of anger that just resulted in a strange agitation.

‘Ryan, please, you’re holding a fucking shotgun, I’m gonna need you to DO something with it.’

Ryan continued to not move, seeming torn about the whole situation; which he supposed made sense, he did warn Ryan against shooting, but they couldn’t just stand there watching Nick on his way to the grave.

‘Time to do something really stupid.’ Dylan took a big step forward while yanking the shotgun up and out of Ryan’s hand in one fluid motion. Ryan made some sort of noise in surprise or protest, but Dylan kept moving. Shotgun aimed, he approached in long fluid strides with eyes trained intently on the man. He wasn’t actually planning on shooting, cause again, the spread, but he was hoping to scare the man off his friend.

A look of surprise crossed the man’s face at Dylan’s sudden action. Maybe it was the fact Dylan had actually killed before and Ryan (presumably) hadn’t. Maybe the man could see in his eyes that he had less of a soul than Ryan. Whatever the cause, the man faltered. His hand loosened and nearly let go of Nick entirely. That’s when Nick, who had been largely incapacitated up to that point, jerked his head to the side and bit at the man. Nick had managed to catch his finger with his teeth. The man fully let go of Nick, reeling back from shock more than pain. Nick quickly scampered off behind Ryan. That should have been relieving, but it just put Dylan more on edge. Any hope he had for Nick’s condition was literally shot when the man scowled, raised his gun to the bitten finger and blew it off.

‘The only reason to do something so drastic would be infection of some kind.’ Dylan glanced back at Nick who was panting, his face contorted with pain. ‘Fuck. Maybe I’m overreacting. That was probably just a crazy man in the woods…’

The voice that sounded like Dylan but didn’t belong to his own thought scoffed and replied, “Yeah Dylan, cause crazy people just shoot their own fingers off all the time.”

Looking back to the man, he was gone now, because of course he was. Dylan sighed and lowered the gun, his priority was getting Nick and Ryan back to the campfire for now.

Ryan turned to Nick and really took in his appearance for the first time. “Holy shit dude-” He was at Nick’s side, hand hovering near him unsure of how to help.

“Dang it… gonna get… We gotta go… nngghh…” Nick was so out of it. Anyone would be, he got mauled by, hopefully, a wild animal. It was a miracle he was still standing.

Dylan rejoined his friends, first shoving the shotgun into a still disoriented Ryan’s hands, before hauling Nick’s arm over his shoulder to help support his weight. He didn’t even bother to ask if Nick could walk, he just began dragging him along. Any walking Nick could do wouldn’t be much help anyway. “We need to get back to the fire.” His voice was weary and scared, but not for the reasons his friends would probably assume.

‘Not good. Fuck, not good, not good. No mere animal could have done that. Certainly not a fucking bear like Nick said; we don’t even have bears around here! And that guy— probably a hunter— shooting his own finger off after Nick bit him…’

Dylan’s eyes frantically searched Nick’s body for the wound. It didn’t take long before they landed on the long, and frankly unmissable, gash in his thigh. “Oh fuck. Look at that!” He was pointing and shouting out the wound before he could really think about it. The cut itself was still steadily oozing blood, unfortunately, that wasn’t the main concern. The veins around the site were black, and whatever that was, it was clearly trying to spread through his circulatory system. There already weren’t a lot of creatures who could spread their condition, let alone through something like that.

“Oh shit.” That panicked edge was back in Ryan’s voice and he was instantly next to the injury. He was staring at it, squinting, likely trying to find the best course of action through the haze of fear.

“That black stuff. That’s- That’s infection. That’s… and it’s… it’s spreading. This is bad. This is really bad, dude.” Dylan was unraveling at this point. He rocked back and forth slightly, his restlessness manifesting. This was basically concrete proof of his previous fears.

Nick was infected. Turning into a fucking werewolf. Out of all the creatures why’d it have to be WEREWOLVES? He’s stuck in the woods with six civilians, an unknown amount of hunters seemingly with mal intent, and fucking werewolves.

Dylan wanted to bash his head into a wall. Curl up on the ground and just melt away. Scream and cry until his throat was raw. He couldn’t do any of that though. Not when all of their lives were in danger. Not in front of four of his only friends. They were his responsibility now. He had an obligation to keep them safe, not only as their friend, but as the only one there who knew what the fuck was happening. He attempted to corral his thoughts.

It could have been hours, it could have been seconds when Dylan managed to bring his surroundings back into focus. He heard a particularly pained groan from Nick and looked over. Ryan had his hands on the laceration, trying to staunch the bleeding. That was a good idea, he supposed, if ultimately futile. What they should really do is…

“We should amputate.” His voice was oddly stable and gravely serious, it surprised him. “We should cut it off, before the infection spreads.”

“What?!” Nick was aghast. Dylan honestly forgot he was even conscious.

Apparently, it surprised Ryan too, as he was staring at Dylan, clearly incredulous. “Why would we do that?”

Okay, yeah, maybe that suggestion would sound appalling to anyone that didn’t know what was happening. That didn’t stop a bit of irritation from bubbling up in Dylan from being questioned on the one thing he knew how to do. He was a professional; an expert, even… Not that any of them knew that. Fuck.

“I dunno man. Look at that black stuff.” It was a weak attempt at convincing him, but Dylan had no way to explain the necessity.

Ryan didn’t attempt to hide his exasperation when he said, “what… What do you think it is?”

‘Not even think, I know what it is, but no one is going to fucking believe me until Nick literally explodes out of his skin!’ Dylan stared at Ryan for a second. He wasn’t going to be able to convince his friends that they needed to cut Nick’s leg off. Not without also trying to convince them that werewolves were real, anyway. He was just going to have to deal with werewolf Nick. Unfortunately, he didn’t quite know what ‘deal with’ meant. If he couldn’t stop the infection from taking hold then, well, the next obvious option would be to put him down before he hurt someone. Most of the time when someone gets infected by a werewolf they die from the initial attack, but when they don’t, and the infection can’t be cut off, there’s almost no chance they’ll be able to be cured. Add in a bunch of civilians you have to keep safe and it’s best to just eliminate the threat before it fully manifests. The thought left a bad taste in his mouth; he never was good at the whole mercy killing thing.

Swallowing thickly, he somewhat defensively replied with, “do I look like a doctor?”

Thankfully, Abi spoke up, saving Dylan from Ryan’s full reaction. Didn’t save him from the stupefied look Ryan was giving him though.

“I can’t remember much. I mean I don’t even know what I saw…” Abi was still quite shaken and meek sounding. Considering the near death experience though, she was doing much better than anyone could have expected. She held out the sketchbook to Kaitlyn.

Kaitlyn’s brow immediately furrowed upon seeing the drawing. He didn’t need to see it, Dylan already knew what would be on the page. Still, Kaitlyn turned it around to show him and Ryan. On the page was a shadowy, tall, humanoid shape with a distinct hunch and claws. After all the evidence he already had to support the werewolves theory, this wasn’t a shock, but the complete confirmation still made his stomach turn.

A rustling was heard from the nearby bushes and all of their heads snapped toward it. Dylan’s hand twitched, going to grab the gun, but Ryan picked it up first. All of his muscles tensed and he attempted to swallow his nerves. Ryan pointed the gun at the bush. A normal bullet would really just distract it, and Ryan could always miss. Dylan got ready to tackle a werewolf, because that was apparently where his life was at. His mother would no doubt tut at his lack of preparedness if she could see him.

Ryan shouted, “hey! I’ve got a gun. And I know how to use it.” That would have been a good warning, if not followed up with a much less confident, “sort of…”

Despite the lingering fear, Dylan let out an amused exhale. 'Real good threat there, Ryan.'

Kaitlyn crept up next to Ryan and quietly asked, “Ryan… what if it’s Jacob or Emma?” She made a good point; the other two counselors were still unaccounted for. Dylan had to try really hard not to let that fact send him into a panic attack.

“What if it’s not?” Ryan bit, understandably cautious.

Kaitlyn hesitated, but ultimately acquiesced. “Be careful.”

They all held still, following the direction of the rustling in tense anticipation. Whatever was moving through the shrubbery shook the leaves, leaving a trail of where it had been. It had to be a creature of some kind, wind wouldn’t move the bushes like that. Ryan was aiming with an intense focus. He saw Ryan furrow his brow, adjusting the gun in his grip. He seemed on the verge of pulling the trigger when the rustling stopped.

None of them dared to make a noise for a moment, worried something would jump out of the shrubbery at the sudden noise. “It- It was probably nothing.” Kaitlyn didn’t sound like she actually believed her own words, but someone had to say something.

“Yeah, but is it gone?” Ryan kept staring at the trees, gun raised, before adding, “yeah, you better run!”

Dylan stared at Ryan in horror. Ryan might not know there were literal monsters in the woods, but he did know there was at least one crazy hunter man. In what world was shouting a taunt a good idea?

“Very brave,” Kaitlyn commented, dripping with sarcasm.

They all took a breath to relax after the scare. Ryan was the first to bring up next steps. “Alright. So, uh… lodge is sounding pretty good right about now, yeah?” He still held the gun at the ready, just in case anything decided to jump out at them after all.

The lodge sounded like a fantastic idea. Dylan was so looking forward to knowing three of his friends were the safest they could be under the circumstances. He still had to figure out what to do with Nick, of course. He couldn’t leave him with the others, that was basically guaranteed to get them all killed, but he didn’t want to kill Nick either, even if that’s what he was taught to do in a situation like this. That meant his only option would be to trap him somewhere and hope he didn’t get out. Dylan didn’t know exactly how to go about doing that though, it’s not like he was ever taught how to contain a creature for an extended period of time, let alone a rampaging werewolf. It wouldn’t be terribly difficult to move Nick before he turned, so long as he was compliant and the curse hadn’t made him agitated or aggressive yet. However, Kaitlyn and Abi would no doubt object to it. From their perspective it would be insane to want to isolate one of them, let alone the gravely injured one.

Nick was on an invisible timer; a fact that wasn’t helping Dylan’s ability to think. This curse spread through everyone at different speeds and thus only gave him a ballpark estimate of when Nick would turn. If he couldn’t figure out a viable solution before Nick turned hostile, Dylan very well could have to kill him for the safety of the group. Ugh, why couldn’t they just let him amputate Nick’s leg?

Shaking came from the bushes again and Dylan almost jumped out of his skin. The others seemed similarly startled, as all of their heads whipped to the source of the noise, Abi even visibly flinched. Ryan aimed the shotgun again, ready to shoot at any sudden movement.

A voice came before anything else, “wait- no no no no no- Don’t shoot! Don’t shoot!” Jacob emerged from the foliage with his hands up. The relief they all felt was soon eclipsed by confusion. Jacob was half naked and his face was covered in blood. Even more perplexingly, the blood didn’t seem to be his, nor did it seem like he got splashed with it. “I’m here to save you.” A pause, then, “holy shit, Nick… Is he okay?” That seemed to be when Jacob actually took in the state of the group.

All of them were clearly still trying to catch up with what just happened, no one responded for a second. Ryan seemed to remember he was still holding a gun to his coworker and slowly lowered it, Kaitlyn was just staring at Jacob, Abi was clearly just trying to pull herself together, Nick might as well have been unconscious, And Dylan let his shoulders sag in relief. He was gonna have a heart attack if the night kept going like this.

“Nick and Abi were attacked. In the woods,” Kaitlyn answered. It wasn’t exactly an answer to if Nick was okay, but none of them knew if he was. Well, except Dylan, who knew that Nick was fucked.

Dylan stepped away from the three. Ryan and Kaitlyn could catch Jacob up. Besides, Dylan needed to talk to Nick alone and he doubted there’d be much opportunity for that if the others weren’t all distracted with something else.

“Hey buddy…” Dylan tried to keep his voice even and low as he crouched down next to Nick, “how uh, how are you feeling?” The black veins on Nick’s leg have spread up further, though it’s difficult to tell how far. Through some rips in Nick’s shirt, Dylan could tell it was at least up to his high hip. Dylan bit back a grimace. Too late to amputate.

It took Nick a moment to register Dylan had spoken to him. His breathing was still irregular and his face was etched with pain. His eyes fluttered open, and Dylan could tell he wasn’t all there. At least his eyes weren’t yellow yet. “Been better.”

How does one even broach this subject? ‘Hey Nick, I think you’re turning into a werewolf and I need to know how far along your transformation is. Can you tell me about your symptoms?’ That probably wouldn’t go over too well. Dylan nodded absently, eyes fixed on Nick’s leg. It’s not bleeding as profusely as before, but it’s clearly still open. “Does it- does it hurt?” As soon as the question left his mouth he realized how stupid it was. Even with the infection the wound would hurt for a while. It’s not like the healing thing kicked in immediately, after all. And the question would sound even stupider to anyone that didn’t know what Dylan was trying to get at, which was all of his friends.

Luckily, Nick was too dazed to think much of it. “Weirdly, not as much as it probably should.” The sentence came out slow and a bit slurred, broken up by a few odd breaths. Still very much in pain, then.

His adrenaline had clearly worn off at this point, yet he said his pain hadn’t worsened, in fact it was marginally better. Not exactly a promising sign for his condition, but, as messed up as it was, Dylan was glad he was still in pain. He still has time to sort this out, Nick’s injured, still feeling it, and still bleeding. There’s still time.

“…like some sort of hunter’s trap.”

That was Jacob. Dylan had been half-listening to the conversation going on behind him. Most of it was unimportant, so he ignored it, but the mention of a hunter’s trap caught his attention. He looked back over his shoulder to listen more intently.

Jacob seemed strangely excited to tell this little story. “Goddamn thing snared my leg, hoisted me halfway into the tree. Just- Zoop.” Very animated hand gestures accompanied the tale, for emphasis. “I’m hanging there half-naked and then this guy with like a fucking machete comes right up to me. Looks me right in the fuckin’ eyes.” Jacob stopped himself like he was abruptly changing the course of his thought. “But I taught that guy a lesson and booked it right the fuck outta there.”

Dylan made a face. Obviously none of them believed that ending, Jacob was just being Jacob. Normally Dylan wouldn’t call him on this type of thing, but he needed to know more about these hunters. Also, if he didn’t want to be called out, he should come up with better lies. “How’d you ‘book it outta there’ if you were dangling by your leg?”

The three clearly weren’t expecting anyone else to contribute to the conversation, as Jacob jumped, and Kaitlyn and Ryan both flinched. Jacob had to lean to the side a bit to make eye contact with Dylan. It was about then that the question seemed to register for him. Dylan could tell this was the case from how his face contorted into something that was strangely… offended?

“Hey- Look man, does it matter? I’m here now, and I’m fine.” The edge of irritation in Jacob’s voice meant Dylan should just drop it. Information wasn’t worth getting into a physical fight right now.

Dylan raised his hands, palms out, in surrender. Kaitlyn, ever the responsible one, took the opportunity to move the conversation on.

“We gotta get Nick and Abi back to the lodge. Like right now.”

“Uh, hard agree,” Ryan chimed in. He had been staring at Dylan since he spoke up, before tensely turning back around to Jacob. Dylan didn’t have the bandwidth to overthink that right now. “Also why are you covered in… what I hope is strawberry jelly…” he added with a grimace.

Jacob suddenly seemed a bit more timid, but still nonchalant. Maybe numb. “Oh, yeah, no um… I’m pretty sure it’s blood. There was this guy with like um… he had like a bottle. It’s like- I dunno dude it’s like a really long story.” He was once again avoiding telling them what actually happened. This would have annoyed Dylan, had he not been freaking out over the mention of a blood bottle.

A very succinct observation came from Kaitlyn, “ew.”

A blood bottle. A man that found Jacob in a hunter’s trap put blood on his face and notably didn’t kill him. Dylan could cry, more so from the absurdity of this whole thing than relief, but the relief was definitely in there. What did this mean? Jacob had a run in with a hunter and he helped him, even if that was unknown to Jacob. The hunter from earlier really seemed malicious while dragging Nick away, were these two different hunters? Did they not have the same goal? Although, Nick is infected and Jacob isn’t. It’s not like these random hunters have any emotional stake in whether Dylan’s friends live or die. They’re just doing what a hunter does, what any good hunter is trained to do… What Dylan should be doing. A tight feeling wrapped itself around his sternum as he turned back to Nick.

There’s a body in the lake too. He could hear Jacob telling Kaitlyn and Ryan about it, but he didn’t care. Wasn’t all that surprised either; it’s probably less likely to swim in a lake without a corpse in it. Besides, dead bodies stuck in a lake were the least of their concerns.

Dylan gingerly put his hand on Nick’s shoulder to get his attention again. “Once we get you patched up, you should really rest. Maybe lock yourself in a room and just sleep the whole night away.” Dylan said it like a bit of a joke, but the suggestion was real.

“Yeah…” Nick had a small smile on his face, trying to appear better than he was. “That actually sounds really nice. I’m hungry but… I also feel like I could sleep for days,” he groaned.

Transformation took quite a toll on the body. It took a lot of energy to go through this metamorphosis of sorts and it seemed Nick was feeling the effects of that. It usually started with some exhaustion, perhaps weakness depending on the severity of your infected wounds. At some point, and the timing was different for everyone, that exhaustion would be eclipsed by hunger. Oftentimes the hunger would persist even as they start getting their strength back, even when their wounds stitched back together. To Dylan’s understanding, this hunger was where the bloodthirst came from for the first transformation. A baseline need twisting into a violent instinct. Nick was evidently still in the earliest stages, though the fact that the hunger was creeping in already was a bad sign.

Raised voices pulled Dylan’s attention back to the group. Jacob seemed agitated, Ryan was holding the gun protectively, and Kaitlyn was just scowling at the both of them. This certainly wasn’t going to end anywhere good.

“Are you trying to piss me off?” The question almost seemed genuine with the exasperated face Ryan was making.

“No, I’m trying to save my girlfriend’s life, asshole!”

Ryan scoffed, “yeah, I don’t think she’s your girlfriend dude.”

Dylan had to cover his mouth when he couldn’t will a little smile away. As funny as that response was, Dylan knew it was a bad idea. It’s not like it was hard to rile Jacob up, especially if you were Ryan. Ultimately, Dylan was proven right when Jacob lunged for the gun. Ryan made a decision lower than his usual intelligence and didn’t let go. Dylan stood to go break them up. Nothing good comes from tug-of-war with a gun.

Jacob pulled particularly hard and Ryan lurched forward. There was obvious frustration mounting on Ryan’s face from the struggle. As soon as Dylan approached them, Ryan abruptly let go, causing Jacob to yank the gun back freely and hit himself hard in the face.

“What the fuck?” Jacob gritted out. He reeled his arm back and swung at Ryan.

Before his fist managed to connect, Dylan shot a hand out and caught his arm. In one quick motion he pulled it back and twisted it up behind his back. He hadn’t really realized he’d done it until he heard Jacob groan, and he stopped twisting.

“Fucking stop!” Kaitlyn quietly shouted. “We’re in a real mess here guys. You’re acting like pricks. Both of you.” She made pointed eye contact with Ryan and Jacob.

Dylan eyed Ryan, just to make sure he wasn’t going to take advantage of the situation and swing on Jacob. Ryan was just staring at him with slightly wide eyes. Right, Dylan was acting out of character again. He looked away and let go of Jacob’s arm, taking a small half-step back for good measure.

Kaitlyn took the gun in a single, annoyed yank. “Jacob, we’re keeping this. Nick and Abi are injured. We need protection. There’s someone around here.” She was still audibly and visibly irritated.

There was a small mocking laugh to his side from Ryan.

“Ryan!” Kaitlyn chastised.

Ryan immediately said, “sorry,” but he didn’t seem to mean it.

“This is bullshit.” Jacob was still fuming. They didn’t seem to be in danger of any more punches, at least.

“Make sure she’s safe. If she’s on the island, she’s definitely fine.” Kaitlyn tried to sound reassuring, but her simmering irritation kind of ruined the effect. Still, she sounded so sure.

Dylan wasn’t quite as confident.

Clearly neither was Jacob, as he angrily made his way back toward the trees. “And what? Risk another run-in with Captain Deliverance?” He gestured vaguely in the direction of the trees. “No thanks, okay, there’s probably another boat by the zipline! Either way, I can make it to the island from there.” Jacob turned to leave.

‘Jesus Christ, splitting up again.’

Okay. Dylan really should go with the group back to the lodge, make them secure. He needed to lock Nick up before he exploded, too. But Jacob and Emma being alone out there with the werewolves… If anything happened to them, he’d never forgive himself. Although, if anything happened to the others, he wouldn’t forgive himself then either.

Kaitlyn turned to Ryan and Dylan, not bothering with Jacob further. “We need to get back to the lodge. Try to get help.”

Dylan took a deep breath. Jacob would be fine on his own, he had wolf’s blood on him. Emma was missing. Sure they thought she was on the island, but that’s just a guess. She could really be anywhere, and as much as it pained him, it wasn’t practical to go looking for her right now. Sure, Kaitlyn, Ryan, Abi, and Nick were in a group and they had a shotgun, but that wouldn’t do them much good against werewolves. Plus, one of them was injured, turning even, and another was still quite shaken from a near death experience. The correct move, is to get them securely in the lodge and have them try to call for help. Knowing what to do didn’t stop the weight on his chest as he watched Jacob go off to find Emma, alone.

“How? Nick can’t walk properly.” Ryan’s voice pulled Dylan’s mind closer back to the present.

Still, he felt numb as he wordlessly walked back over to Nick and picked him up. Nick made a noise of surprise and a smaller noise of pain at the sudden movement. He didn’t protest getting picked up bridal style though, too tired to care. As Dylan turned around, he caught the tail end of a look Kaitlyn and Ryan were giving each other. It was somewhat confused, unsure, but there was something else to it that he couldn’t quite make out.

It didn’t really matter because Kaitlyn quickly moved on. “Let’s get going then.” She slung the gun over her shoulder, and moved to help Abi up.

They set off toward the lodge, Kaitlyn leading with the gun, Ryan trailing off toward the back, Dylan was somewhere in the middle with an infected Nick in his arms, and Abi was hovering somewhere between him and Kaitlyn thanks to her concern for the aforementioned infected man. Jacob was running around in the woods somewhere, and Emma was who-knows-where. There’s a long night ahead of them.

Chapter Text

“Dude, put me down.” Nick squirmed, clearly he was better enough to feel awkward about being carried.

Awareness crashed abruptly into Dylan. He felt it spread through him, bringing conscious control of all his limbs back to his mind. He blinked hard, reorienting himself after actually being able to see with his eyes again, instead of through them like windows.

Glancing down at Nick, he appraised his condition. Nick still had a pained frown on his face, but his eyes weren’t glazed over, and he no longer moved so lethargically.

‘That’s… bad.’

He heard himself scoff in his head, “Yeah, no shit.” The thoughts had no tone, but it had something of a feeling. It was constricting and it pulsed as it moved to encase his brain. “At this rate he’s going to kill all of you.”

Wincing, Dylan tried to shake the phantom sensation away. He set Nick on his feet as Abi came over to help him walk. They were talking, having a quiet little back and forth. Apparently, Nick was hungry. He was concealing how bad it was, but Dylan would bet he would be near ravenous soon. Dylan pretended he hadn’t been listening.

The inside of the lodge was empty when they opened the door. He knew it made no sense, but part of him hoped Emma had made her way here. Of course, she hadn’t, she was still missing. None of the others seemed as hung up on this as he was. To them, though, all that’s happened was an animal attack and two run-ins with a strange hunter. Enough to be scared about, not quite enough to panic as much as Dylan was.

“This’ll open the nurse’s station.” The keys jangled as Ryan handed them off to Kaitlyn. “Should be plenty of stuff in there.”

Kaitlyn moved further into the room to take Nick from Abi. “Well hopefully we can just get him cleaned up for now.”

There was a small, uncertain smile on Abi’s face as she stepped away from him. “I’ll get you something to eat,” she said as Nick was led away to the nurse’s station. She didn’t linger, just turned and went to see if she could scrounge up any food.

Before a silence could stretch too long, Ryan pointed at Dylan. “You and I are gonna find a landline.”

“Oh, uh, yeah. Um…” it took Dylan a moment to rally, “isn’t there one in Mr. H’s office?”

Ryan nodded slightly, “yep.” He shouted after Kaitlyn, “we’ll come meet you.”

“Copy that!” Kaitlyn replied over her shoulder just before her and Nick disappeared from sight.

Then it was just Dylan and Ryan, alone in the doorway. They knew where they should go, what to do next, but neither moved. Ryan just looked out over the room where their friends had been, and Dylan… well, Dylan was lost in thought.

They weren’t going to survive the night without learning werewolves exist. Realistically, that was just impossible. Problem is, Dylan needed them to realize what they were dealing with without him being the one to say it. He could lead the horse to water, but that doesn’t guarantee it’ll drink; never mind the fact he needs to lead the horse without it realizing he knew the water was there.

Voice quiet and more tired than this night alone could have caused, Dylan said, “Do you think that whatever attacked them out there is…” supernatural, a werewolf, hunting us all down? “I don’t know, has their scent or something?”

“What?” Ryan was once again confused, and somewhat incredulous, with the point Dylan was trying to make.

It seemed that Ryan was really good at making Dylan be defensive. He was quick to continue, to clarify what he meant, to not seem paranoid. “I don’t know, like-“ He forced himself to speak at a normal pace. This was a rational thought, he had to make Ryan see that. “What if it got a taste for blood and now it’s gonna track them down?”

“I… I doubt it.” Ryan sounded skeptical.

Even if that skepticism made sense, Dylan was starting to get really tired with Ryan not believing him.

Dylan shifted on his feet nervously, “I just feel like if we stick with them we’re sitting ducks- I don’t know.” He had to convince Ryan to get away from Nick somehow. Even if Nick was locked up, that’s not disaster proof.

If Ryan’s face was anything to go by, he clearly disagreed with Dylan. Despite that, he tried to gently reassure him, “I really don’t think that whatever attacked them out in the woods is gonna get into the lodge.” A reasonable argument that would calm less-reasonable anxiety.

Too bad all of Dylan’s worry was founded in reality.

“Okay, yeah… yeah, you’re probably right.” He’d just have to drop it for now.

Ryan sighed, “Come on. Let’s go call for backup.” He slowly walked further into the empty room, leaving enough time for Dylan to come with.

It was clear Ryan was trying to reset the momentum of their conversation. To step out of that slightly awkward moment Dylan had accidentally created. He was grateful for the out, and after two months of pretending, he accepted it easily.

Dylan sauntered into the room after him. “It’s pretty weird to see this place so dead.”

“You never came down here at night while camp was in session?”

Oh he had. Dylan had been all over camp while everyone was asleep, even some of the surrounding forest. There was nothing else to do when he jolted awake in the middle of the night. Not that being alone in the woods helped him post-nightmare, but there was comfort in seeing nothing out there. He knew he’d be stuck in his memories regardless.

The thought of sharing any of that made him uncomfortable. It was too personal, too exposing. “Did you?”

“Couple times, yeah.” Ryan seemed unbothered by the whole thing. If he had any thoughts on Dylan’s obvious deflection, he didn’t make them known.

Dylan didn’t get the chance to respond before an overwhelming sense of wrongness filled him. The space around him felt heavy and oppressive. That’s when he heard his name, whispered by a ghostly voice as if it was nothing but the sound of the wind. Instinctually, he turned around looking for the source of the noise. The room was still empty, as expected. If whatever he heard was real, then he really shouldn’t be indulging the thing trying to get his attention. Despite knowing he should ignore it, he cautiously stepped in the general direction of the whisper.

“Where are you going?”

Ryan’s voice snapped Dylan out of the stupid thing he was doing. “I…” Dylan turned to the side, still searching the room with a furrowed brow. “I-I… I thought I just heard my name.”

“I didn’t hear anything.” Thankfully it didn’t sound like Ryan was at all worried about how jumpy Dylan was. If anything, Ryan just met him with reassurance.

Shaking his head, Dylan moved back to Ryan standing at the office door. The spooky ghost voice didn’t matter, it was just another vague problem on a growing list. He could spend more time worrying about it when it became an immediate issue. The concern did still gnaw at him though, as that was the second time that day Dylan thought he heard his name whispered.

“I don’t think Nick’s injuries are as bad as we thought.” Ryan had already entered the office, making his way towards the desk. It sounded like he was just making conversation, trying to stay positive. Dylan wasn’t good at that.

Dylan walked in after him and didn’t stop moving until he was faced with the gun mounted on the wall. Ryan’s words made him freeze for a moment. He tried not to let it, he really did, but his friend’s cluelessness was starting to get to him. Dylan turned, head a bit forward and eyes on the floor. “We don’t know that.”

“No, it’s true,” Ryan didn’t sound unsure but he felt the need to bring validity to his claim, “Kaitlyn said.”

Dylan felt his eye twitch. He tried to keep his voice more neutral, Ryan didn’t deserve this frustration. “So all I’m saying is that we are not professionals, okay?” Well, technically Dylan was, just not the kind his friends would listen to. “We.. don’t know. We- He could have rabies or something.” He met Ryan’s eyes then, hoping to communicate what he really meant.

Ryan didn’t get it. “Way to be optimistic, man.”

“I’m just being… realistic.” Dylan looked down again and turned back to the wall.

They fell silent again and a bit of shame crept up on Dylan. He was not doing well with social interactions tonight, but who could blame him? His world was falling apart and the night was just going to keep getting worse. Dylan took the gun off the wall.

What was Ryan thinking about? He was very quiet over by the desk and it was freaking Dylan out. He knew he’d been acting strangely since this all started, and he could only hope it wasn’t too off-putting. He desperately wanted to keep having friends if they managed to make it out of this alive.

The sound of the phone moving prompted Dylan to turn around. Ryan was holding the handset and staring down at the keypad. He must have been thinking about who to call, what to say. Much better he think about that than what a weirdo Dylan had been.

“We gotta call for help,” Ryan muttered, mostly to himself, “who should I call?”

“Uhh, Mr. H?” Dylan proposed, though he immediately regretted it. It’s not like he thought Mr. H was a bad guy, and he felt bad doubting him, but he knew something about what was going on. There was no other reasonable explanation for why he was so intense about telling them all to stay inside for the night.

“The only number I got is to this phone.”

Probably for the best, he supposed. Dylan just nodded his head slightly. The next obvious number to call would be ninety-one-one, but… Dylan didn’t want to deal with cops. It would just complicate matters to have them there and wouldn’t really increase their odds of survival. Not to mention if Nick got in an ambulance, best case scenario would be him killing two paramedics when he turned, worst he kills a hospital full of people. It’d also be bad to leave some official record of what was going on. Paper trails are how you get the government on your back. He wanted them all to live, true, but if they all made it out they’d be wrapped up in a cover-up. Cover-ups rarely ended well for the witnesses.

Quietly, Dylan said, “I know who we should call.” It was an oddly somber tone, resigned maybe. He set the gun down on the desk as he stepped over to the phone. As much as he hated the idea, he only knew one hunter that wouldn’t kill Nick just because he was infected.

His hand grasped at nothing as Ryan held the handset away from him. Dylan looked up to meet Ryan’s eyes with an annoyed look and started reaching for the phone again. He only paused when he noticed the concern evident on Ryan’s face. Damn his friends for caring about his well-being.

“Ryan-”

“What’s going on with you, man?” he interrupted.

A sharp inhale as Dylan was taken aback. He blinked hard and shifted his weight back as if gaining space would distance himself from the conversation. “What do you mean?” He forced a confused furrow of his brow and a small frown.

“You’ve been…” he watched Ryan struggle to come up with how to convey what he wanted to, “different. I guess.” He gestured around a bit, frustrated with himself. “I don’t know- Look man, you’re being weird.” He grimaced at the way his final sentence came out.

Dylan’s eyes narrowed and his irritation boiled over. “Oh I’m sorry, I’ve been acting different? Huh, wonder why that could be. Maybe it’s because two of our friends got attacked by something in the woods? Or how one of them was almost dragged away by a crazy man?” Dylan was coming undone. He felt he was on the verge of hysteria as his voice got louder and louder. “Or, oh yeah! Maybe it has something to do with how Jacob found a body in the lake!” He took a shaky breath. “I’m fucking scared, Ryan.” The admission was quieter, weighed down with guilt. More than just guilt for shouting at Ryan, guilt for letting Nick turn into a monster, for Emma being possibly dead, for not having gotten his friends out of there already.

To his credit, Ryan realized the outburst wasn’t really about him by the end of it. He didn’t say anything; he knew he wasn’t great at comforting people, well, anyone aside from Sarah, anyway. It seemed that Dylan just needed a moment to settle himself. So, as Ryan shifted awkwardly, he set the handset back in the cradle and stood quietly beside him.

It took a minute but Dylan managed to pull himself together enough to pick up the phone. His vision was distant again as he dialed the phone number. Steeling himself, he put the phone up to his ear and listened to the ringing. ‘Maybe he isn’t even awake?’ …Oh who was he kidding of course the guy was awake, he rarely slept. What would he say if he answered? ‘Hey, I know we haven’t spoken in a while, but I could really use your help. We’re getting attacked by werewolves up at camp and one of my friends is turning. Oh yeah, and I became a counselor at a summer camp to run away from my feelings?’ That wouldn’t go well. He couldn’t mention the very real threat with Ryan in the room too.

The third ring was interrupted by a cautious, “hello?”

He gripped the phone harder and refused to look over at Ryan. “Hi, we need help-” He meant to keep talking, to say they needed an ambulance up at Hackett’s Quarry, that there was an animal attack, but the voice got confused, before turning relieved, then scared.

“Wait, Dylan? What- Are you o-”

The worried voice was cut off as the phone went dead.

Letting the phone fall from his ear, he took a deep breath as he turned to Ryan. “Line's dead.”

Chapter Text

Great. Just fucking fantastic. The ‘bears’ cut the power and the phone lines and Ryan decided that Dylan doesn’t get to carry the gun. It hadn’t even been two minutes and this idiot was trying to take the gun from him. Because of course he was. Nooooo Dylan can’t be trusted with a weapon, he’s probably never even shot a gun! Heaven forbid he have any tiny sense of comfort during this hell. It’s not like he’s incredibly practiced with shooting. It’s not like Ryan has already demonstrated twice that he can’t pull the trigger when it comes down to it.

“Just give her the gun, man.”

One of them had to leave their gun with Kaitlyn. He couldn’t leave everyone at the lodge unprotected, even if regular bullets wouldn’t do much. They had to have some way to fend off Nick if it came to that, and who knows what else they could run into. Still, Dylan and Ryan would be safer if Dylan had the gun.

He just stared at Ryan for a minute. It didn’t register to him how long he’d been silent for, not with all the calculations running in his head. It also didn’t register how Ryan started shifting uncomfortably and averted his eyes. Dylan’s jaw was tight, he could feel the pressure on his teeth from how hard his mouth was closed. It wasn’t from anger though. Not even irritation this time. He was just loathing how much he’d have to give away in order to convince Ryan the gun would be better off in his hands.

“How many times in your life have you shot a gun?”

Perplexed and somewhat startled, Ryan’s head slowly moved back up to face Dylan. He half-shrugged. “I don’t know… a few? It’s not like I kept count.”

“I’ve done routine shooting practice since I was eight,” the confession came out in one breath. Dylan chose to ignore the way Ryan’s eyes widened. “So when I say ‘I know how to use this’ I mean it.”

Dylan looked away. He couldn’t bear to see on Ryan’s face how he was already getting re-framed in his head. He was well aware that his character seemed like he’d probably never held a gun in his life; that was intentional. Sure, it might have been an overcorrection, but how was he supposed to know what a normal amount of interactions with a gun was for a teenager? Before this whole camp experience the last time he’d spoken to regular, non-hunter kids was 7th grade. He got homeschooled after that. Fit better with the constantly-being-out-in-the-woods hunter’s schedule. The only other kids he interacted with were in the same boat as him out there.

They still needed to fill Kaitlyn in before they left. He also needed to get Nick set up. Without looking back at Ryan he made his way over to the nurse’s station. He heard the quiet steps of Ryan following behind him.

God, he felt like shit.

“You may be poorly socialized but this amount of fucking up is impressive even for you.”

Kaitlyn was exiting as they approached.

‘You know what? Fuck this.’

He set the gun down by the door and turned to Ryan. “I’m gonna go talk to Nick.” He still refused to make eye contact and he moved to go through the door before Ryan had the chance to answer.

He heard Kaitlyn say, “woah. What happened there?” before he closed the door to the nurse’s station.

Nick was lying on the exam table on the other side of the room. He didn’t really acknowledge Dylan’s presence, he just kinda stared ahead.

“You okay man?” Dylan hadn’t meant to, but he approached cautiously, as if Nick would turn any minute. He knew it didn’t work like that, knew that he shouldn’t treat Nick any differently, and yet he couldn’t stop the fear from coloring his actions. And he hated that.

“I’m- My leg is fucked, what do you think?” He snapped as he came out of whatever thought he was in to glare over at Dylan, who was at his bedside. He was deeply unsettled, it was obvious by the furrow of his brow and the shakiness of his eyes. He was clearly upset and startled by his own word choice, too, as he followed up with a shy, “sorry,” while averting his gaze.

Concerning. This was concerning. He couldn’t be healed yet, it hadn’t been long enough, which meant that he wasn’t quite turning. It was more like he’d started feeling the effects of the infection mentally, most likely. It wouldn’t directly hurt anyone yet but he couldn’t be comfortable like that.

Upon Dylan’s silence, Nick spoke up again, “Please don’t tell Abi- or anyone- I asked this.”

“Yea-yeah man, sure.”

“…am I gonna die?”

‘This SUCKS.’ Was the only coherent thought going through Dylan’s head. Maybe it was because it really felt like he was talking to a dead man walking, but he couldn’t lie to Nick “No..?” Dylan cringed. “…Not exactly.”

“Do you think I’m the same person as before?” The words were soft, almost blending in to the quiet winter night.

Out there in the middle of nowhere, they could see every star in the night sky. That kind of view was the only good thing about being out on a hunt.

Dylan looked over, brows pinched a bit. A gentle breeze swept through the field they were sitting in and Dylan had to rub his arms to maintain some heat. “Do you think you’re different?” He knew it was just asking the same question back, but Dylan really didn’t know what to say. In a way he had changed, but was he really different? Dylan couldn’t say.

Dylan’s companion remained leaning back on his arms, gazing at the sky. He hummed, “it’s complicated, I guess.” He went quiet after that and Dylan assumed he wouldn’t continue. He never spoke much about his feelings, didn’t like to get too deep into his own thoughts. Which is why Dylan had to force himself not to react when he spoke again. “I don’t know how to feel about it. Would you say that a caterpillar has to die to become a butterfly?”

“It’s gonna feel… weird. Your body might-”

“Are you giving me the puberty talk right now?” Nick interrupted.

Much to his own surprise, Dylan snort-laughed at that once the words set in. He’d be embarrassed if it wasn’t such a needed reprieve from the disasters they’d been experiencing. He didn’t try to continue. Saying more risked further exposure and he got his point across well enough. He couldn’t tell Nick he’d be fine though, that’d be a blatant lie. “Just sleep it off, you’ll feel better in the morning.”

“I will I just- I wanna talk to Abi one more time.”

“You’re not gonna die.” Dylan would make sure of it.

Nick smiled a little. “I know, I know. Not dying. Not what I meant.”

“Good.” Dylan moved to rummage through the cabinets and cupboards, collecting any loose medical supplies he could find. He didn’t like it, but leaving Nick in this room made the most sense. He was already in there, he had a bed, the door locked with a key, and most importantly: he wouldn’t have to explain why he was moving Nick to an incredibly secluded location. The lodge would be less secure, but honestly nowhere there was really safe. Maybe they could all hole up in the basement. “Cause we’re gonna get help up here, and then this,” he gestured vaguely at Nick’s leg without looking, “will all be fixed.” Of course by ‘fixed’ Dylan meant that he was going to have to kill every werewolf in these woods until he got the one that infected Nick, but it could be interpreted as medical intervention as well.

Dylan collected his haul on the counter, but hesitated to pick it up. He turned back to Nick. This all felt too final for Dylan’s taste but he couldn’t leave without saying goodbye. Not when this very well could be the last time he’d see Nick as himself. So, he let himself be earnest for once and put a hand on Nick’s shoulder. “You get some good rest man. I’ll…” ‘miss you,’ “see you later.”

It was obvious that Nick was confused by the tone of it all, but he didn’t say anything. “I will. Goodnight, and be safe out there.”

So, with a twisting stomach, Dylan gathered all the medical supplies in his arms and left the room.

Before the door even clicked shut, Kaitlyn was staring at him with crossed arms. “What are you doing?”

He must’ve looked insane. Eyes wide like a child caught doing something they weren’t supposed to, clutching arm fulls of bandages and thing. “Uhhh,” reasoning with Kaitlyn was always difficult, if only because she was so intimidating. He cleared his throat and made a concerted effort to look normal, which probably wasn’t working. “I thought it would be better to not have to disturb Nick’s rest if anyone else got hurt before we can get out of here.”

Kaitlyn’s eyebrows rose and her mouth twitched, which in Dylan’s professional opinion meant… approval? Something akin to approval anyway.

Whatever it was didn’t matter, she seemed to be receptive and Dylan was going to push his luck. “Did Ryan fill you in?”

“Yeah, no phone line and no power. Is going to the radio hut by yourselves really a good idea?” She began to move the items from Dylan’s arms before he could drop anything.

Ryan chimed in, “We need to get out of here. You have a better idea for calling for help?”

Before she could respond, Dylan cut in, “oh and until help arrives, I think we should all hole up in the storm shelter. It’d be easier to keep us all accounted for and safe, because the lodge isn’t exactly secure,” he glanced over to the wide open front doors. “Only trouble is, it’s not a good idea to move Nick any more with how his injuries look. It’d be safest for him to lock him in the Nurse’s station. Which I know how that sounds, but with all of us in the basement the lodge will appear empty which will draw less attention and keep Nick safe as a result.” His eyes were on the ceiling, but he could hear how Kaitlyn had stopped shuffling things around on the table she was laying the supplies on.

Risking a glance, he was met with Ryan and Kaitlyn staring at him again. The latter was opening and closing her mouth to try and say something before settling back into the she held confusion and just closed her mouth. Being a laid-back idiot all summer was really biting him in the ass now.

“What?” It was his turn to play-confused now. “I can have good ideas and make plans too.” He tried to sound defensive and somewhat huffy to cut some of the sharpness off how out of character that was.

Kaitlyn nodded slowly. “Right… I’ll talk to Abi and Nick about tha-”

A loud bang on something like metal sounded from outside and all of their heads snapped in the direction of the front doors. Kaitlyn immediately went to grab the gun that Dylan had left. Dylan dropped what was left in his hands and moved closer to Ryan. And Ryan gripped his gun a bit tighter and tensely watched for… something. Dylan did note that Ryan wasn’t aiming the gun, nor was his finger on the trigger. This was starting to become a troubling pattern.

“That must’ve been the van,” Ryan breathed out in a whisper.

“What would have hit it?” Kaitlyn asked.

With how all of them interacted with the van just hours ago to put their stuff in it, it certainly would’ve smelled like all of the counselors. Dylan didn’t like this at all. If a werewolf was sniffing around that close to where they were, it would no doubt be able to smell them soon.

Without tearing his eyes away from where the noise came from, Dylan spoke sternly, “Ryan, find Abi and get in the basement, Kaitlyn, join them after locking the Nurse’s station door. I’m gonna check that out.”

Ryan and Kaitlyn shared another look. Behind the shock, it conveyed something like, “this dumbass is gonna get himself killed. Everyone knows you shouldn’t go investigating a single spooky noise.” Not that Dylan could see any of that.

Once again, Dylan grabbed the gun in Ryan’s hand and yanked it away from him. He began slowly and quietly walking toward the door, gun held at the ready but not aimed yet.

An indignant, “wh- again?” came out under Ryan’s breath before he went up and put a hand on Dylan’s shoulder to turn him around. He spoke in a hushed voice, “you’re not going alone; that’s incredibly stupid.”

Dylan’s eye twitched. He turned to look at him just to get smacked in the face with his friend’s genuine concern. Curse having genuine relationships for once in his life. He sighed. There was no argument he could think of to make Ryan choose to stay behind. So even though he hated it, he said, “fine, just… stay behind me.”

He heard Ryan sigh in relief before carefully stepping after him.

The night air licked at his skin, reminding him of happier(?) times. Happier than this exact night for sure, but that wasn’t exactly a difficult bar to pass. The scene just beyond the doors to the lodge was still, with barely a breeze sweeping through. The van was perfectly intact. No obvious tracks or other signs in the dirt. It was as if they all imagined that noise. But it felt wrong. The night was too quiet. All of the nocturnal creatures stood still and held their breath in anticipation of something. There had been a werewolf here, and it hadn’t gone all that far yet by Dylan’s judge of things. He could’ve been paranoid, but it was that overly-cautious nature that had kept him alive through his adolescence.

Head on a swivel and eyes surveying the surroundings with a fierce intensity, Ryan didn’t know what to make of the sight. Dylan was acting so weird and Ryan knew that his earlier “explanation" wasn’t the whole truth. He didn’t know when to push it again though, or even how.

The porch boards creaked and bowed slightly as they stepped onto the old wood. Dylan squinted at the treeline. He couldn’t see anything lying in wait back there, but obviously that was the point. And it wouldn’t be the first time Dylan experienced a werewolf hiding up a tree. The shotgun in his hands was of little comfort; he needed to get to the van.

They slowly made their way down the steps and toward the van. Ryan was just following uneasily behind Dylan. They were both hunched, instinctively trying to stay low as if being just a little smaller would save them from being seen. Once they were closer, it was obvious to Dylan that something big had been by the van. The dirt was disturbed, spread in a way that something much larger than a human foot would have to do. It had been hard to see from a distance because, well, this was a path with high foot traffic; the dirt always looked odd.

He tried to open the door but it wouldn’t budge. Locked. ‘Who locks a car when you think you’re the only ones there?’

Clearly he hadn’t made enough stupid decisions for one night, but this one was calculated. Well, half of it was calculated. “I need to get something from my bag, keep watch?”

Ryan’s face was gonna get stuck in confusion if Dylan kept behaving like this. “Wh- Sure, but-” He was so confused he couldn’t even feel indignant about how Dylan had taken the gun from his hands just a minute ago and was already giving it back.

“Hey, chin-up big guy. I’m admittedly not as practiced with shotguns as other guns, okay? And… I trust you.”

He had questions, Dylan could see them in his eyes. The silent, “are you sure?” “but didn’t you say..?” Regardless, he didn’t voice them. Instead, he nodded, stared through Dylan with those scrutinizing eyes of his, and held out his hand for the gun.

Dylan smiled. Even through all his strange behavior his friends still trusted him.

Before handing the gun over, he grabbed it at the neck and rammed the butt of it hard into the back window of the van. The glass cracked. Fractures spread, spidering out from the point of impact. Ryan flinched, hands moving up to cover his face. Dylan wasted no time in hitting the glass again until the window shattered. It only took a couple more attempts, but each hit was loud. This was the half that wasn’t calculated. There was no way of knowing if the werewolf was still nearby or how far it had gotten. Regardless, it was most likely that something had heard that, so he’d have to move quickly. If not for his sake, then for Ryan’s.

“What the fuck?!” Ryan was technically whispering, but he wasn’t being quiet about it.

“Let’s see where that trust goes when they find out you’ve been lying to them.”

Dylan’s mouth went dry. Okay, maybe not a great move, but this was what he needed to do for their survival, it’d be worth it in the end. He didn’t know what to say to Ryan though. All he could muster was a weak, awkward, “the door was locked.” He held the gun out for Ryan to take.

Ryan just stared at him, dumbstruck and probably angry. He was kind of hard to read sometimes. That was fair, he supposed, he did just smash a car window with no warning.

So, Dylan did what Dylan does best: run away and hide behind comedy. He grabbed Ryan’s hand (and he was being very normal about it) and made him grab the gun, before reaching through the broken window to open the van door. “’Oh thank you so much Dylan you’re so generous and handsome!’ Yeah no problem, don’t mention it.” His voice muffled slightly as he crawled into the back with all the bags.

He wasn’t entirely stupid, he had an idea. He wouldn’t make all that noise or give the gun away for no reason. You think a professional monster hunter is going to voluntarily stay in the woods for two months with no tools? No way in hell was Dylan gonna do that to himself— plus his mom would have killed him herself for doing something so stupid. He couldn’t justify bringing anything heavy duty to a children’s summer camp, but he had a utility knife and some silver rings. He did bring other things too, but they wouldn’t be of any help against werewolves. 'Curse werewolves for only having specific weaknesses. Well curse them again, I guess.’

Fuck the van was dark. Obviously it would be dark it, it was nighttime and this was an enclosed space, but Dylan hadn’t expected it to be that dark. He was wasting too much time flailing around trying to hit the light. With this old piece of junk the light probably didn’t even work, if there was one at all. So, Dylan started fumbling with zippers, trying to find his bag. He kept all of his tools at the bottom, under his clothes. Some of the stuff would be weird to have at a summer camp, not creepy or dangerous, just weird. Well, weird to have anywhere maybe. So, he wanted to keep it hidden; he wasn’t prepared to answer any of the questions he could have gotten. The searching process, if you could call it that, was Dylan fumbling for a zipper, ripping the bag open, plunging his hand through as many layers as he could to the bottom, and feeling around for any of his shit just to pull it out again and repeat with the next bag he could find.

“Hey Dylan, can you hurry up?” Ryan’s rushed voice came from outside.

Dylan froze for a moment while he registered the hint of panic breaking through Ryan’s voice. He called back, “what’s wrong?” And he resumed searching, somehow faster (and messier) than before.

He was met with silence for a minute and Dylan almost gave up on his current task before Ryan’s voice came. “I-I think there’s something in the bushes.” His voice was shaky.

Shit. “Okay, just- just gimme a second.” He could feel the panic rising. Please don’t let his cowardice get Ryan killed.

Dylan stuck his hand in another bag. It was a straight shot to the bottom and he immediately grabbed something that felt like a small perfume bottle? Could’ve been his holy water, he didn’t imagine that people were bringing perfume to summer camp. He kept feeling around.

He heard the rustles and snaps of branches outside the van. And Ryan screamed.

“Ryan?!” Fuck, no no no.

If he didn’t have silver he couldn’t really help Ryan. He had no weapon, Ryan had the gun and the bullets would barely do anything. He scrambled around the bottom of the bag for a second longer before his hand closed around two cold rings. He sprang back, nearly tumbling out of the van doors. He clutched his prize in his hand like a lifeline, because it literally was one.

Outside the van, Ryan was pulling himself to his feet, the shotgun was on the ground a few feet away from him. The werewolf was nowhere in view.

Immediately, Dylan was there helping Ryan up. His eyes frantically bounced around, looking for any sign of injury. He didn’t find anything, but it didn’t put him at ease. “Fuck dude, are you okay?”

Ryan groaned, “yeah… just knocked me down, I think.”

There was no time for relief. The distinct sound of something heavy hitting the roof of a car rang around them again. Dylan could hear it sniffing the air behind him.

Sliding a ring on each hand, Dylan prepared to give the worst advice he could for surviving werewolves. “Ryan, run! Go, I’ll meet you at the radio shack!” He shoved Ryan to get him moving, and was already changing to a more strategic position himself.

“What? No! You’re gonna get yourself kill-”

Ryan was still stumbling away as the wolf jumped down right between them. Without thinking, Dylan didn’t give it the chance to choose to attack Ryan. He reeled his arm back and swung. His fist connected at the hinge point of its jaw. It flinched back a little, a small burn forming from where the ring connected. Dylan also flinched back, mostly from directly punching a bone. That fuckin’ hurt.

“Oh, bold. And probably one of the stupidest things you’ve ever done.”

Any celebration Dylan could’ve done was cut short by the werewolf turning to face him. Right, it wouldn’t attack Ryan now, but… well shit. He tried to side-step as best he could, duck, do anything to mitigate damage really, but the creature was already lunging. The large mass hit his body hard.

Pain pierced up Dylan’s spine and disbursed through his skull as his back met the ground. There was an overwhelming presence over top of him. Hot breath rolled over his face causing some bile to rise in his throat. Claws tore into his right shoulder to punish the arm that he dared use to hit them. A werewolf was a rampaging beast, but they were also a person underneath that. They were more than capable of calculated attacks, and Dylan had forgotten that. It was excruciating. Made worse by the non-stop squirming of someone in pain acting on instinct. The claws ripped apart muscle and sinew and Dylan’s brain couldn’t even process how it felt yet.

Through the newfound throbbing in his head and searing pain in his shoulder, a bit of focus managed to swim back to him. This wasn’t his first near death experience and it wouldn’t be his last. He managed to make out the beast dipping its head even closer to him. All it took was that flash of teeth and Dylan was moving with purpose again. He couldn’t get infected. He couldn’t. He managed to get his left hand up to its face, palm pushing its nose up, ring pressing about where the browline would be. He did his best to shove it, it didn’t go far, but the slight burning from the silver was a helpful distraction. He twisted on his injured shoulder as he pushed it, managing to gain enough space to get one of his legs under him. From this angle, it couldn’t keep its claws in his shoulder, but it wasn’t exactly delicate about taking them out either; Dylan felt like his whole arm was gonna come off. The surprise from the unexpected hit of silver was wearing off and with it went Dylan’s advantage. Dylan was up and already running as best he could by the time it snapped at Dylan’s arm, missing by a hair.

Now that he was up, Dylan realized he was a couple yards away from where he had been standing. Fuck, the force of when it lunged at him must have made him slide a ways. He saw Ryan roughly where he left him, which made sense, it’d only been a few seconds. He was picking up the gun, but he was very unsteady on his feet. ‘Shit, does he have a concussion?’ No time, they had to get out of there.

“Ryan!” Dylan shouted and held his hand up, a silent gesture asking for him to toss the gun. This time, it wasn’t that Dylan didn’t think Ryan would shoot, more wondering if he could given how he was swaying. Also, Dylan was closer, better range for a shotgun.

Ryan, thank God, caught on to Dylan’s meaning and under arm tossed it. Was it incredibly stupid to toss a shotgun around? Yes. Was it also really cool looking? Definitely.

Dylan missed catching the body of the gun, but managed to grab it by the strap. Sliding rather than trying to stop completely, Dylan swung the gun up into his hands and turned to face the creature behind him. He only took a second to aim before shooting it directly in the chest. None of what Dylan just did could have been good for his shredded shoulder, but he’d worry about that when the adrenaline wore off and the pain set in.

He didn’t stick around to see how it reacted; that shot would only buy them so much time. Still sliding, Dylan turned back around and continued his momentum toward Ryan. He swung the gun over his not fucked shoulder and grabbed Ryan by the hand (again; that was at least one good thing about this awful night). And he pulled a stumbling Ryan along as they started running to the radio shack.

Chapter Text

The floor was cold, dusty, and likely to cover him in splinters, but Dylan wasn’t concerned. He had to do the afternoon announcements in about an hour. There was plenty of time for him to help with something else, and he knew he’d be asked to if someone saw him. That’s why he was lying on the dirty floor of the radio shack. Well, that, and his overwhelming exhaustion. He hadn’t been sleeping well, or really at all; he’d only manage to let his guard down enough to sleep for a couple hours before he had to be up to do the morning announcements. If the rest of his nights at camp continued like that, his body would give out on him.

Nick had to get him up again that morning. It was something he had taken to doing everyday, since he and Dylan were the only two who had to be ready far before the campers woke up. If it weren’t for the bags starting to appear under Dylan’s eyes, Nick would probably assume he was lazy or had poor time management or something. Instead he had to deal with looks of concern.

The door started creaking. He didn’t bother sitting up, but he did watch tensely from the floor as it opened. He could really only see the top of it from his position, but he watched it open anyway. He didn’t see whoever it was enter, but he heard the footsteps. There went his ‘lay around and do nothing’ time. He lifted his hand off the ground to half-heartedly wave at whoever just entered. He hoped it was Ryan; he’d welcome that interruption anytime.

Alas, it was Kaitlyn’s unimpressed face that peered over him. “I see you’re hard at work.”

“I am. Thank you for noticing,” Dylan smiled up at her. He pulled himself to a sitting position. “It’s taken a lot of work to get this place clean, I’ll have you know.”

She looked around the room, and Dylan thought she might have been admiring his handiwork. That was before she said, “…clean?” as she gestured to all the junk still cluttering most of the floor.

“Okay well- maybe not clean, but we can at least both stand in here.”

Her face didn’t change. “Quite the accomplishment.”

Dylan rolled his eyes as he started to stand. Who cares if she couldn’t see how impressive this absolute feat of dedication and cleanliness was? Doesn’t change the fact that he’d done it. Not worth correcting her, so he changed the subject, “aren’t you supposed to be with a group of campers right now?” He’d know, he does the schedules.

“Dumped them on Jacob and Ryan.” She waved her hand dismissively. “They’re playing capture the flag or something. I needed a break; who knew kids could find so many creative ways to injure themselves?”

“So you snuck off to the radio shack?” He put a hand up to his mouth as he gasped in mock surprise, “don’t tell me- You’ve been drawn in by my unspeakable charm and now you’ve fallen in love with me. Well, I’m sorry Kaitlyn but it cannot be!”

A hint of annoyance appeared in her expression, or maybe that was just her face. She crossed her arms and leaned against a pile of boxes. “One: we met less than two weeks ago. Two: you’re not my type.”

Dylan was stunned for a split second before letting out a playful scoff and said, “okay ouch.”

“Try to be more mysterious and brooding and then we’ll talk.” She finally cracked a smile at their conversation. “Speaking of love and brooding… how’s your crush on Ryan going?”

His face twitched as it couldn’t settle on what expression to make and he coughed out, “I don’t have a crush on Ryan.” He really doesn’t; he barely knows the guy! Just because he thinks Ryan is hot, and intriguing, and he wants to spend all his time talking to him… that doesn’t mean he has a crush. It doesn’t!

Kaitlyn obviously didn’t believe him, not when a flush was creeping onto his face and he suddenly refused to make eye contact. “Really? Cause Emma and your whole demeanor right now say otherwise. Come on dude, you should talk to him. Maybe have a summer fling.”

“I don’t know if I’m ready to do that kind of thing.” He shuffled on his feet.

“You get dumped recently?”

Dylan’s face contorted like he ate something sour, but he didn’t correct her.

Smug realization settled over Kaitlyn. “Oh, you dumped someone recently.”

“What? No! Well, not exactly-” He took a breath. “It was mutual.”

For the second time he didn’t convince her, but she had the grace to not push it. It took a minute till she spoke again. “You okay?”

He, literally, waved her concern away. “I’m fine. It’s been a while since it happened.” Depending on your definition of ‘a while’, it wasn’t a complete lie. Okay, so maybe it was like a month ago and he wasn’t over it… but he was fine.

Leaves crunched underfoot. Trees were half barren as autumn was in full swing. The flora, the sky, even the bugs were all strange. It was too different, too far away. Most hunters’ knowledge is very regional. If they go too far from ‘home’ the folklore, the creatures, they’re entirely different. It could make a very experienced hunter little more than a civilian. And yet, despite this, Dylan was thousands of miles from ‘home’.

And it was fucking cold! Screw the Midwest and their fuck-ass cold season. And screw his uncle for calling in a favor. Extra screw his parents for making him come along. It’s not like they even needed him there; they brought a decently sized group of hunters with them, which for some reason included his boyfriend.

Despite himself given the situation, his heart did flutter at the thought of his boyfriend. He’d never had one before, couldn’t have. It was a semi-recent development, but they’d been friends for some time before it turned romantic. In the grand scheme of things it was a very young relationship. They hadn’t even known each other for a year total, but that was a long time to teenagers! A long time for hunters too… people didn’t always last long out there.

Dylan gripped his coat tighter. His whole body was covered to protect him from the rain but it seeped into his bones anyway. It was unforgiving as it coated his muscles on its path further in. He was lethargic, too cold to move efficiently. If something came at him now, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to push through it enough to keep himself alive, let alone uninjured. But he needed this. He needed a second away to think. Space to breathe. He was far enough away from camp to not even hear the raucous celebrations of people who made it another day. You’d think it’d be a bad idea to make so much sound when out on a hunt; sometimes you had to celebrate everyone making it back, not only alive, but not gravely injured. It was a woefully rare feat. He snuck away sometime after the headcount.

His mind was far too busy for celebrations tonight. Him and Kee, they’d recently told Dylan’s parents that they were dating. He shouldn’t’ve been worried, really. Kee was a good hunter, his parents respected him for that. But Dylan had never spoken to either of them about something of this nature.

His mother had been humming when he found her. It was some song he’d never heard before, and one he doubted she’d share with him. She swayed a little bit to the melody of her song, while wiping down an already clean knife.

“Mom,” Dylan managed to start, no way he could back down, “Keenan and I are dating.” His muscles were tight, somehow vibrating.

Kee was by his side, well, more like a foot away from his side. He was standing so still, like any movement would make the whole encounter go wrong.

Dylan’s mom stilled. Song stopped mid-note, knife and rag abandoned for the moment. She didn’t look up. Rarely did, in this state. Her hair cascaded over her face at this angle, anyway. All was silent for a moment. Then, she let out a small breathy laugh, tilted her head back, and turned to look at where the tree line met the cloud covered sky. “Your father and I met on a hunt too,” her voice was delicate, something belonging to a church choir. One would never guess what carnage it disguised. “We happened to be in a big group at the time… not everyone knew each other.” She smiled at the memory, “he was cooking. I was covered in blood. I was only by him because I wanted to feel the fire, but after a few minutes of hovering, he offered a spoon to me to try the food.” She chuckled again, picking up her knife and rag. She made one final, precise pass over it before extending the knife in Keenan’s direction. Dylan would’ve thought it was a threat, had her hand not been loosely holding it out by the blade end.

Keenan hesitated, arm halfway out before he nearly abandoned the idea to take it. He looked desperately to Dylan for what to do. But Dylan could only stare wide-eyed and perplexed at the knife before responding with a confused shrug. As if she would change her mind at any moment and take his hand off, Kee slowly grabbed the handle of the knife and pulled it back. She made no attempt to hold onto it. Going back to her humming after that, she began to rummage through her bag to get to the next item on her to-do list. Dylan blinked a little in stunned silence before turning to leave, pulling Kee along with him. Humming usually signified the end of the conversation with her.

“Keenan,” she called after them. When they turned around, she was sitting straight up, eyes trained intently on Keenan, piercing and unblinking. She had a sharp face, one might call it harsh. Dylan didn’t look like he shared any of her features per se, but they definitely looked related. “Stay safe,” the words held no warmth, no care. It wasn't just a command, it was a threat left unspoken.

Dylan was mostly used to this behavior, she was his mother, after all. But Keenan wasn’t used to it at all. She always scared him, even before he met her for the first time so long ago. Dylan looked at his boyfriend and despite their lifestyles, despite what he and Keenan had faced, that was the most terrified he’d ever seen him. Kee gave one quick nod to Dylan’s mother before he broke eye contact. He could still feel her eyes on him.

Dylan gently grabbed him so they could start walking again. They were quiet for a while before Dylan quietly let out, “she’s not always like this, you know. It’s the hunt.”

“Mmh,” is the only acknowledgment that Dylan got from Kee.

A particularly loud cheer from somewhere in the distance pulled Dylan back to the present. He couldn’t stop going over that conversation, or Kee’s face.

“You’re missing dinner.” Kee was always fairly matter-of-fact, monotone, some might say dry. Not in a bad way, of course. All of that didn’t stop him from being interesting, or pleasant company. At least in Dylan’s opinion.

Either Dylan let his guard down way too much, or Kee was just very quiet. Probably a combination of both. He shouldn’t have been able to get that close to him. “I know,” he sounded worn beyond his years, “just needed to think.” Dylan looked back over his shoulder, just to make his voice carry better. “Sit a while?”

There was no response. Dylan thought he might’ve left but then the leaves crunched and he heard Kee approach. “…Yeah, okay.”

He sat. Their coats rubbed against each other, but their shoulders didn’t actually touch. Kee was bundled up more than Dylan, gloved hands clutching something tightly in his lap. He seemed content to stay silent, as usual; so Dylan broke the silence, as usual.

“Do you ever think that we’re in over our heads?”

“Maybe. Depends on what you mean.”

Dylan took a second to think of how to phrase it. “I mean… we started this so young. We’re barely 17.”

“…I think you’re thinking too much. You’ve had a lot on your mind today.”

“But-”

Kee just thrust the bowl he was holding into Dylan’s hands. “Just eat.”

The clearing smelled only of dead flesh, some decaying, some not. The ground was littered with bodies, it was more blood than grass under him. More of these bodies were human than he wanted to think about. He was preoccupied anyway. His vision went in and out of focus. His hands shook and were so covered in blood that he doubted he’d be able to hold anything. Fuck. He’d been in worse condition, he could get through this. His head throbbed, he couldn’t hear anything over the blood rushing through his ears. He only made it about a third of the way through the clearing before he collapsed. He failed to recognize an ill-placed severed arm before his numb leg hit it and sent him careening to the ground. The impact made his ribs creak. At least one of them was definitely fractured. His lungs ached. He had to gulp for air after the impact knocked it all out, but he wasn’t able to get much in without aggravating his ribs. Maybe he would die out here.

‘It’d be kind of fitting. Dying alone, my only company the corpses littering a battlefield I never should have been a part of.’

Despite the thought, and the strange sort of peace he’d found, he got up onto all fours. He didn’t have the energy to fight his own survival instinct. The movement made him heave, and cough, and sputter, but he managed to start crawling. He felt tears prick at his eyes with every movement of a limb, everything that would pull at his ribs. There was multiple times where he swayed and barely shot an arm out to catch himself. Would any of his loved ones even realize he hadn’t made it back? Would he be able to tell them what happened before they saw the chunk of flesh taken out of his thigh? Before he died?

He was only out there to find the hunters that never made it back. They all knew what that meant, but even their culture cared about memorials. They always at least tried to bury their dead. A lot of hunters ended up burned and abandoned during a desperate escape, regardless. Dylan often wondered when he couldn’t sleep at night, if that was going to happen to him. It was currently seeming very likely.

Where’d the rest of his scout group go? It’d been a while since they got separated. He wondered if they were all right and Dylan just drew the short end of the stick… or if Dylan was somehow the lucky one.

He saw movement from the corner of his eye, a shambling corpse making its way toward him. It wasn’t a zombie, it had too much life, even if they weren’t speaking to him. They still wanted his flesh, though. A ghoul. They were moving faster than he could crawl, which was truly pitiful. He tried to move faster, he couldn't die in such a pathetic way. The strenuous movement just caused him to collapse again. He tried to get back up, he really did, but the exhaustion was overtaking him. He rolled himself over onto his back, if only to let himself breathe slightly easier. Maybe if they saw the state he was in, they’d take pity on him and let him live. Or maybe they’d kill him faster to put him out of his misery. He wasn’t sure he cared anymore, honestly.

‘At least the sky is beautiful this evening.’ It was painted in oranges, pinks, and purples. The light from the setting sun reflected on the edges of what fluffy clouds were floating overhead. The wind was a slow, gentle caress.

With how time seemed to stop, he wasn’t sure when the ghoul got close to him. They were mere feet away, and still approaching. Dylan’s eyes were fluttering, his conscious slipping. A BANG! Reverberated through the clearing and surrounding forest. He couldn't figure out the origin, it felt like it was everywhere. Dylan’s brain was having a hard time keeping up with what was happening. The ghoul didn’t even scream, their body just dropped, fell hard to the ground next to Dylan. Extra lifeless eyes and a single bullet hole in the forehead looking directly at him.

‘Who shot…?’ Even his thoughts were slow and slurred.

He saw his gun slip before realizing his arm was in the air as it dropped to the ground too.

All he could do was blink, draw in a shallow breath, and let out that air in a shudder. Darkness seeped in at the corners of his vision and even his survival instinct was too tired to fight anymore.

...

His eyes fluttered open to be met with a tarp ceiling overhead. The ground was hard beneath him, despite the bit of soft fur he could feel under him. His head was reeling, his whole body felt sore. He tried to push through that to sit up and very quickly abandoned the idea, involuntarily yelling in pain. He may as well have been hit by a bus. Using his throat was also a bad idea, even though he hadn’t meant to. There may as well have been a frog in his throat. Why he wasn’t in a hospital was beyond him. He probably hadn’t been out long enough to get there yet. He wished he could be surprised, confused that he was still alive. He wished this wasn’t such a common occurrence.

He must have been back at camp, though he couldn’t figure out what tent he was in. He was probably out for a while, given the extent of his injuries and how dark it was. There were people moving around outside, no one near his tent though. It felt like limbo, sitting in a dark void, unable to move or make a lot of sound. His eyes were closing again.

The swishing of fabric, a gentle gasp. “Dylan…? Are you awake?”

Dylan pried his eyes open again, squinting to see against the darkness. “Mhm,” was all he could manage. Even that hurt.

Kee kneeled down next to Dylan.

‘So I am on the ground, then.’

He leaned over him slightly, and brushed Dylan’s hair out of his face. “I was worried about you.” Keenan was angelic in that moment. Maybe it was pain fueled delirium but he truly did look like something of divinity.

Dylan didn’t respond, but he did give Kee a pained smile. Kee abruptly took his hand away and turned around. Dylan’s heart sank like he experienced a fall from grace. It took a minute for him to realize there was a canteen being held to his lips. Keenan was still there, still caring for him. He tilted it slowly and Dylan drank it in sips. He knew the drill by now, they all did. Every hunter has had their share of near death experiences, this was nothing new. The water was taken away all too soon, like it always was.

“Can you speak now?” Kee only whispered, as if any higher volume would break Dylan.

In that moment, it actually might’ve. This was the most fragile he’d felt in a while. “A bit.” His throat felt marginally better, but a little bit of water doesn’t erase all that scratchiness. His body started feeling heavy again, exhausted from trying to heal so much at once.

“Alright. Two questions and then you can sleep.” Keenan waited for Dylan to blink his eyes back open as confirmation before continuing. “Are any of your wounds something to be worried about? In one word, what the fuck happened to your leg?” He knew Dylan would know what he meant by ‘worried’ it was the kind of thing that they could only share with each other. Any other hunter couldn’t be trusted if the answer turned out to be the less desirable one.

Dylan blinked some more, trying to keep his mind working enough to answer before passing out. Keenan grabbed his hand, and that was enough to tether him for a moment. “No and ghoul.”

Keenan exhaled in relief before smiling down at him, a rare sight. The last thing Dylan saw before slipping into sleep was Kee leaning down a little before hesitating and sitting up straight again.