swarmofbears | open post

[The sun's long been out, finally providing light and warmth to the hellish night that he's somehow survived. Well, he mostly gives the credit to Kaitlyn, shooting that werewolf in the lodge... although it was also hard to look at the dead body of one Caleb Hackett afterward. The most they were able to do was put a blanket over his body.

That's going to be hard to explain to the police later on.

Mostly, Dylan wants to see any of his fellow counselors. Especially Ryan, but hey, he's actually worried about all of them. Maybe it wasn't the brightest idea for him and Kaitlyn to split now of all times, but there's definitely no werewolves ~~or bears~~ around now and she went to check on Emma and Abi back in that hidden room.

He holds his amputated arm to him, but he pushes past his thoughts about it, not really ready to fully acknowledge it yet. His focus is on the others right now.]

Edited 2022-09-15 21:07 (UTC)

( yeah, so, surviving the night was supposed to be the hard part. whatever comes next, he's realizing, is bound to be far worse. ryan isn't sure how he hasn't broken down under the weight of the pressure of the past twelve hours, but he thinks it might be because he had co-workers to help him along the way. he thinks that he also might be in denial. and some shock, maybe, because apparently shock can do that to a person.

people can say what they want about bizarre yet bonafide, but it's taught him some interesting things.

like, when in mortal danger, the brain just sorta does what it has to in order to keep you alive—including shutting off all thoughts and feelings that don't pertain to said survival. everything before the arrival of the werewolves feels like a lifetime ago. a summer on the lake, saying goodbye to the campers, sitting around the fire, that might as well been years ago as far as ryan is concerned.

dylan is hobbling forward, covered in blood, and ryan, equally covered in blood, rushes to him. bizarre yet bonerfide didn't cover amputations, but ryan feels pretty safe in assuming that the last thing he should do is leave someone alone when they're in this state.

and, yeah, he's pretty glad to see him, considering. )

Just in case I can't find a Hallmark card for this once we get out of here, I'll say it now:

Sorry about going sicko mode on your arm.

[Maybe on any other day, Dylan would be extremely worried seeing anyone come up to him with blood drenched over their face and clothes. Today? Just another drop in the bucket. He smiles just slightly, even if part of him just wants to cry from a mixture of everything that just went on tonight.]

Got a little something on your face.

[He's so relieved and maybe just a little delirious still, a small laugh leaving him because of Ryan's comment as he looks at his arm once more. That really did happen today, didn't it?]

Think I'm getting used to it. Kaitlyn said I could get a hook. Maybe I'll just become a pirate after this and you can be my first mate. [...] Although, she might try to get dibs on that title first.

Is it too soon for jokes about finding booty?

( missing arm jokes, ryan feels like he’s got plenty of them lined up, but there’s gotta be a like somewhere. like, maybe he shouldn’t be making jokes about this at all?

maybe.

jokes feel good, though. they feel absurd. everything feels so, so not real— )

Got something on your face too, by the way.

Long as we go after your booty. Besides, I heard you might be into the strong pirate types.

[He knows that Ryan went with that one other counselor, Laura-- the real headstrong girl with an eyepatch. They went together to kill Mr. H, or not. And fuck, did they do so? He doesn't want to ask, although he probably should ask? Or he shouldn't ask.

Fuck.]

...Yeah.

[Shit, he should keep this up, but for once, jokes are coming a little harder right now. The adrenaline or whatever it is have worn off and instead of breaking down and crying, he opts for something else.]

Can you hug me, Ryan? I mean, you don't have to. Just, um. [His voice might crack just a little.] Glad to see you alive-- again.

Edited 2022-09-16 02:12 (UTC)

...Yeah. I can, uh... I can do that.

( any other time, he'd protest that he's pretty gross right now, but they're both covered in the horrors of the night, so that's not much of an excuse. not that he's looking for an excuse; he wants to hug dylan, but he feels like they'd both be good for a shower and some sleep and, maybe, a good crying session apiece. before any of that, though, ryan brings his arms around dylan's back and pulls him close, no doubt smearing him in viscera and other unmentionables that he'd rather not think about.

for a while, it's nice. ryan isn't much of a talker, so he's more than okay with a soft silence between them. the longer it stretches, however, the more ryan feels like he might crumble the weight of the warmth, and his own guilt. does he deserve to be hugging anyone, let alone dylan? after all he's done? )

I shot Chris... Mr. H. I didn't have a choice. I didn't want to. ( don't cry, don't cry. he can at least wait until he's alone to cry— ) I didn't know what else to do. ( his voice cracks with that last bit; so much for not crying. ) I'm sorry.

[This isn't what he imagined his first hug with Ryan to be like, covered in blood and stuff that his mind doesn't really want to acknowledge. But as he feels Ryan's arms wrap around him, a choked noise leaves Dylan before tightly returning the hug. He's fine remaining quiet for once, letting the comfort of a friend soak in, and he knows that Ryan probably needs something like this as well.

Okay, he definitely needs this, as he listens to Ryan open up, confess to what happened.]

Shit. I, um, I'm sorry.

[Because Mr. H didn't deserve to die, neither did Caleb. Dylan knows that he wasn't as close to them as Ryan, but it still feels awful to know that they're both dead. Kaylee as well. The entire Hackett family gone in one night and fuck.

Of course he doesn't blame Ryan in the least bit, but it still sucks. Well, it's more than that, but thoughts are hard enough as is. And he's not so blasé to say that it was the right thing to do, but.]

I-I know you didn't want to.

[He tightens the hug, trying to support Ryan physically if he can't say anything comforting.]

...It's cool.

( if anything, everything is the entire opposite of cool right now, but that's not dylan's fault; he shouldn't apologize for anything.

at the end of the day, none of this is anyone's fault. ryan tried narrowing down the blame, but it gets too convoluted. he wanted to be mad at mr. h for keeping secrets, but he was only protecting his family. he wanted to be mad at laura kearney — and he was, for a bit, back when they were all working double shifts to make up for her absence — but it's not her fault she got kidnapped alongside max. even silas was only a child from the sounds of it; there's no one here in the wrong.

besides ryan, maybe.

if he'd hesitated, if he hadn't panicked and pulled the trigger, he'd like to think that chris could have broken through whatever spell he was under and recognized ryan for the 'favorite councilor' he was. he'll never know now, because he took the shot. it'd saved laura, but at what cost?

when ryan pulls away, he's wiping his eyes. )

Think I just need to sleep. Feels like this night has gone on for so long... doesn't even feel real.

[He's not sure how they're going to explain any of this to the cops when they come over here, but.. one thing at a time, Dylan. That entire thought process is just another big source of anxiety and he's definitely not going to bring it up with Ryan right now. He's already dealing with enough shit, more than him. That's how he feels at least, because as awful as he feels about Mr. H, he knows that the other counselor is feeling way worse about it.

He pats Ryan on the arm, managing a small smile.]

A bed and a shower sounds heavenly right now. [But he is still worried about the others, which stops Dylan from just lying on any semi-comfortable surface and sleeping until next week.] Um, Kaitlyn is okay, and she's checking on Abi and Emma. The-they all should be fine. How... how is Laura?

Laura's, uh... she's okay. That cop, too. They're both okay.

( it was an odd team up in the end. ryan, a psycho, kidnapping cop, and the girl he imprisoned, all banded together up against silas. no doubt there's hard feelings all around. laura can't be too happy about being trapped in a jail cell for three months, and travis can't be too happy that ryan killed his brother. and ryan, for all his efforts, still feels some type of way over laura insisting that they kill chris in the first place.

so, yeah.

it's a mess. )

What about Nick? I haven't seen Jacob in a while, either. Should we... go look for him?

G-good, yeah, that's good. Glad they're okay.

[A cop though?? Oh shit, is Ryan referring to the cop that Laura had to deal with? Well, if they're both okay and Ryan's okay... then guess it worked out. Course, Mr. H is still dead, but he's trying to think of the positives in a situation that's been hard to really deal with.

He spares a glance at his amputated arm, before nodding.]

I, um, I haven't seen Nick. Or Jacob. [God he hopes they're okay.] I-I think we should. Um, they have to be around, right? A-and there's definitely no bears, so we'll be okay.

[And no werewolves.]

[ Somehow, both Emma and Abigail managed to snatch a few small moments of sleep as daylight approached, switching off as well as they could in brief shifts. At Abi's insistence, Emma slept first, and so she's the one of the pair who is awake when Kaitlyn comes to find them, a welcome message of safety— the full moon has passed. She leaves the other behind to wake Abi, to get her up to speed while Emma herself exits into the morning sun, a sigh of relief and joy escaping from her tired lips.

Despite everything, she can't help but wonder: is Jacob okay? Is everyone okay? Apart from herself and Abi, Kaitlyn and Dylan are the only ones she knows about for sure.

Not that Dylan's in perfect shape, she remembers as she spies him loitering outside by the long-dead car, his arm cradled against him. And it's weird, because she's not exactly the hugging type, but she has a sudden urge to run up and put her arms around him, grateful as she is to see him.

Instead, she jogs up, composure kept together as well as possible, given the incredible circumstances in which they have all found themselves. ]

Hey. You made it.

[ Hopefully he can read through the words to the tone to understand: she's glad. ]

[There's pure relief in Dylan's eyes as he turns to face Emma, thoughts about his hand and the others pushed away momentarily as he takes a brief look over her. Ye-Yeah, she's fine. Really fine, and that probably goes the same with Abi back down there. He's glad-- so glad, in fact. Even if he can't confirm anyone else's safety, he can at least focus on one of his friends that survived the night.]

Decided to leave the girl's sleepover early?

[Joking even now, but there's a small smile to him, even letting his injured arm hang by his side. He doesn't want to bring too much attention to it again.]

Y-Yeah, made it. Kaitlyn was a real badass, might've been oh so delicious lunch meat without her.

[ She's as fine as she can be, given the situation— she's sure it's the same for Abi, for Kaitlyn, for Dylan too. They're all going to need therapy. A lot of it. But that's something for later; for right now she is just glad to see him, to know that one more— and that makes four— is okay.

She grins at his comment. Hand aside, he's clearly doing okay if he can still be a smartass. ]

Yeah. Abi slept in, so Kaitlyn's filling her in now. Who would've known the girl had so much badass in her, right?

[ Honestly, they all would've known. Kaitlyn's always been nothing short of amazing. Though that said, she's positive that all of them found a little bit of their own amazing, last night. ]

Don't sell yourself short, though. I'm sure you had your own share of badassitude.

Kept her up all night, Emma?

[He teases slightly, even though there's the whole uhhh complicated relationship with Nick, which oh shit, he's probably back to normal, right? Dude's probably butt naked out in the woods and wondering what's going on. Although, to be honest, Dylan himself doesn't know what's going on besides werewolves, man.

But Dylan puffs himself up just slightly, just exaggerating his moment of badass to her.]

Kaitlyn hasn't told you about my awesome save? [Come on Kaitlyn, he thought they were buddies!! But that's okay, he's here to tell Emma about this.] How out in the scrapyard, I dropped this car on the werewolf so that we can make our daring escape? Totally cool.

[He'll leave out the part where he was panicking a whole lot and thought for a few seconds that the werewolf was going to kill her. Nope. That's no fun for anyone.]

[ He gets something of an amused smirk at that one. Yeah, sure, Abi's got that whole Nick thing to deal with, but Emma can't help but think that that outcome would make Jacob's head straight up explode. Which would serve him right, honestly.

She hopes he's okay.

She shakes off the thought with a grin in response to Dylan's story. Kaitlyn had said he'd saved her life, but hadn't really gone into the details of it— and hearing them now, she whistles her approval. ]

You dropped an entire fucking car on the werewolf? See, I told you you're a badass.

[ It's easier, she thinks, to focus on these moments, these little victories, than try to understand the horrors of the night. Just... keep it surface-level, right? She's good at that.

And yet she already finds herself wavering, wanting to check on his mental state, his arm, wanting to express her fears and be honest and truthful about the moments on that damn island where she thought she was a goner.

But she holds it back for now, the smile still fixed in place. ]

When Dylan's really needed, he delivers.

[His smile's genuine but he finds himself wavering just slightly, especially as exhaustion begins to creep up upon him. He's 100% glad that Emma is safe and in front of him, but as relieving as it is, he's also just reminded of why he's feeling this way.

Dylan swallows past the lump in his throat as everything from the prior night-- the past few hours crash down on him. How does he even talk about Caleb to her? Not to mention if Mr. H really died or did Ryan and Laura?? He hopes none of them died and just. Fuck.

At least he can make sure that his friend in front of him is okay. Well, as okay any of them can be right now.

He finds himself in a more serious mood and he looks at Emma with clear concern.]

Hey, um. You really okay? [Okay, that sounds dumb.] I mean. This is one of the more rough all-nighters I've had. You feeling the same?

[ She's doing such a good fucking job of holding it together, and then his expression shifts, and his words are genuine as they question her, and everything suddenly fucking sucks, because how is she meant to keep it together when he's not? The lump in her throat builds too easily, and her gaze flickers away as she tries to spare a moment or two for herself, tries to keep herself from straight up breaking down on him.

In true Emma fashion, her immediate response is full of the things she wants to say, but tinged with the sarcastic voice of her vlogger persona. ] Oh, you know. I'm totally fine. I duked it out with a werewolf, convinced myself a few times I was gonna die... totally normal, right?

[ But she can see the sincerity on his face, and she owes him more than that, especially after what they've been through. She sighs, shakes her head, and the bitter expression fades into something more vulnerable. ]

Yeah. Yeah, I'm feeling the same, Dylan. Last night fucking sucked.

[ And even then, of the two of them, he had to have it worse, right? ]

How's your arm?

[Maybe they should all have a big crying session after this. Right now sounds good, but he wouldn't mind another one once they find everyone else. Hopefully it'll be all of them crying over making it together and not over a friend's corpse. That thought alone is almost crushing.

But right now, Dylan manages a tiny smile when she talks about her fight with a werewolf and damn, who's the badass now?]

You went one-on-one with a werewolf? And survived? Okay, you're the one that needs her documentary starring Angelina Jolie.

[But as her own vulnerability comes up, the last vestiges of the lighter atmosphere dies out. When Emma asks him about his arm, he can't help but raise it slightly, looking at the amputated limb with a slightly dazed look. He's been like this for a few hours now, but it still feels surreal every time he looks at it. Like oh fuck, it really is gone and he's gonna have to live his life with just one hand.

Every so often, he almost feels like he still has his left hand. Maybe it's that phantom limb syndrome those docs talk about.]

Um, I mean, it hasn't grown back. [Dylan cringes slightly at that, not liking how that sounded.] Sorry, didn't mean it like that. Just feels... weird, yeah? Never had a missing hand before-- but doesn't hurt at least. Kaitlyn said I can get a hook to replace it, maybe I'm meant for the high seas.

[Snatch a lot of booty maybe.]

[ There's a joke there, perhaps, once she's not feeling so miserable, once they manage to find their way back to light-hearted: something about wanting to be played by someone hotter, or at least less ancient, than Angelina Jolie. But with the vulnerability she's allowing herself, with the seriousness of the situation— of the look on his face as he looks at his hand— the moment for jokes is gone, and she observes him in silence for a beat or two, shaking her head when he cringes. ]

No, it's okay. [ She knows he didn't mean it in the way it originally sounded— and even if he had meant it like that, how could she blame him? They all went through hell last night, but where the rest of them have only the mental scars to deal with, he's going to have to deal with a physical reminder each and every day. And no matter how light-hearted he is about it...

It's gotta suck, right?

She sighs, and tries a small smile on for size. ] I dunno how useful a hook will be in everyday life. But it might help you score at least.

[ Ugh. Somehow that seems inappropriate. Her smile turns rueful, and she shakes her head. ] Sorry. I should leave the jokes for the experts, huh.

[Emma's trying and he sees that, so what else should he do but follow along with the joke? At least a little? He's not the type to ruin the mood, even if the mood is 'desperately pretending that they're coping.' Jokes have always helped Dylan, even now, he's just not sure how long he can keep this up.

It's a little easier when there's someone with him, at least.]

...You really think a hook will help get me booty? Or you thinkin' of a different prosthetic to attach here? Going to warn you though, you might have to battle Kaitlyn over the hook.

[Hooky Mc Hook Face as she called him. MAYBE A LITTLE INSENSTITIVE but Dylan hasn't thought of it as such.]

But in all seriousness, I'll be okay.

[He thinks so at least. Maybe if he says it out loud, he'll actually feel that way.]

[ She can't help but grin at that, even as she shakes her head, reaches out one hand to push at his shoulder; the movement is playful, silly, the most she can really manage in that direction right now. ]

She can have you, Lenivy. Not my type. But Captain Hook? Kind of a hottie.

[ Not the Disney one, of course. Bad perms for days. But the more modern one, the one on that TV show with the name she can't remember right now...

Yeah, okay. This attempt to distract herself isn't really working, if she's honest.

She nods. ]

You will be. We all will be.

[ Those of them who've survived, anyway. How many of them is that? The thought makes her feel sick to her stomach. ]

It might take some time, right? But we will be. There are people who've been through worse. You know?

For my sake, I'm just gonna assume you're talking about the young hot one and not the cartoon. I getcha.

[He sort of knows who Emma is talking about and hey, he'd 100% hit that too. Dylan can accept that.]

...Yeah, we will. [People have lost more body parts in other places, and they didn't have werewolves to cite for them. He can at least sort of brag about his injury, even if no one will believe him. ...Not that Dylan actually wants to brag about his missing hand to others.]

Reminds me all about those inspiring documentaries. Like the ones you sort of binge on Netflix.

open post

post-game, assuming Dylan's hand got amputated

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as someone who loves angelina, this tag feels blasphemous

how RUDE

I KNOW I WAS MAD AT MYSELF THE WHOLE TIME (well I mean more mad at emma but hey)

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