“aiden, smile!”

“ you.”

the camera shakes a little, side to side, as if in disapproval, and then julia turns the video camera to face her, rosy cheeks and twinkling eyes. “we’re building snowmen! two hours here, and we’re all having a splendid time. or, well, aiden isn’t.”

aiden just sourly stares ahead, so julia continues, “he fell flat on his earlier when we were having a snowball fight, so he’s just being miserable right now.”

“when is he not?” kimberly shouts from off-screen, and aiden holds both middle fingers up in the air.

timothy smiles wistfully as the video continues, drinking in as much detail as he can before it ends, from the condensation hanging after aiden tiredly exhales to fond looks that rem gives julia when the latter’s attention is on narrating the events unfolding to nathan putting gloves on jennifer’s sloppily-made snowmen.

sam peeks over his shoulder, eyes inquisitive. “oh… you rewatching them all?”

timothy shifts in his leather seat. “yeah, i just wanna… make it feel like they’re with us.”

the air surrounding them is somber. “i can’t believe we’d come back after last year,” he voices, and timothy gently nods in agreement. nathan would usually snort at whatever comes out of sam’s mouth, finding hidden humor in the younger’s words, but this time around he clears his throat, acknowledging the statement.

this trip, because sam’s parents don’t like him driving long distances and timothy’s mom refuses to let him drive anywhere without her, nathan is their driver. his 2013 car is still too small for him to fit his legs into, and sam grumbles from time to time whenever he accidentally jabs the other with his sharp elbows, but this time the tight fit is comforting. rem brought her car along, taking jennifer and kimberly with her, while parker reluctantly agreed to driving dominic and damian in his sleek recent model.

as if by some ironic twist of fate, they each received an invitation to return.

most were against going back to the lodge -- and really, there was no logical purpose of going back to a place filled with terrible disasters -- but damian had insisted they return for a better time, to make better memories in julia’s name, because that’s what she would’ve wanted. upon that logic and the power of the older nam’s name, the nine had reached a cautious agreement to return for the lengthy week.

after returning home the previous year, timothy pored over conspiracies surrounding the mountain, and was aghast at what he had dug up. creatures called the wendigos supposedly existed, and there was a slim chance of the twins not being eaten alive? but they were probably alive, he speculated, because the previous group to get stuck until dawn had a mountain man help them and stuff, and technically it’s only been a year, but holy what if they turned into wendigos?

( he won’t admit it to anyone, but for an entire week he was subjected to panicked shaking and nightmares of getting eaten alive, because those things are terrifying, good lord. )

he thinly smiles, puts away his phone, and begins, “maybe we’ll make better memories here and it’ll be different. but wait, you two both know that there are monsters in these mountains, right? i saw it online!”

nathan groans in the front seat, and sam laughs, saying, “there’s the timore we all know and love! tell us more.”

“instead of fake supernatural stories, who wants to hear some drama cd mixes instead?” nathan offers.

“no, nathan.”

in all things considered, it’s weird how they’re still somewhat as tight-knit as ever, timothy thinks, because it seemed as though julia was the glue that kept them all together, with aiden’s help more or less. there’s a hint of something foreign, though, something that he’s not quite sure of that’s charging the air. it could be the sudden mistrust that everyone seems to have with one another in terms of secrets, in the way that people seem to be thinking twice before saying anything aloud. that isn’t a bad thing, but not when they’re afraid that they will cause one another to blow up the way aiden did and run off and disappear.

timothy doesn’t say death, because he’s still clinging onto the thought that aiden and julia are still alive, still out there, waiting to be rescued. aiden’s smart and julia doesn’t quit, and aiden’s a hero in secret and julia will fight to stay alive, so the twins aren’t dead. besides, their bodies haven’t been found; they’ve just gone missing.

they don’t talk about the twins. if they do, they bring them up casually, the way that one brings up relatives that have long since moved away. there’s blamed placed on all their shoulders equally, self-distributed and loathing ( the nam parents don’t blame them, for sure, and neither did the media, who had a field day as they retold their stories ), but timothy believes there’s animosity between members of their group now, though he’s not quite certain between whom, yet. he’ll find out, though -- he wasn’t top ten in school for nothing.

there’s a chime as a notification pops up on timothy’s smart phone, and pulling away from his internal thoughts, he curiously swipes at the message to open the app, tapping his passcode in.

dami hyung [09:10]: guys whta r we gogin to do when we get to the cabin ?? kenam wants to eat

timothy reads the message out loud to the car, sans the spelling errors. sam scrunches his nose, staring at the same group chat on his own phone. “don’t we have food? we can just cook up something.” timothy’s phone pings, and he realizes that sam’s typed out the exact message that he said aloud.

iamsam [09:10]: don’t we have food? we can just cook up something. v o v
teemothi [09:10]: cOUNT ME TF IN ILL COOK
dami hyung [09:10]: NO
jennifer [09:10]: NO
iamsam [09:10]: NOPE
kimchu [09:10]: NO!! !!!!
dami hyung [09:10]: pARKER SAYS PLES DOTN

timothy cackles as he locks his phone, sam staring at him with a desperate sort of fear as messages continue to ping in, and nathan sighs from behind the driver’s wheel. “good lord, i have a feeling i’m gonna get a huge headache when we get there.”

--

when they arrive, parker makes it known instantly that he thinks it’s the same as always. the same cobwebs, the same rusted cans forlornly lying in the trash from their previous visit, the same grim atmosphere and the dust flying through filtered air, and it’s almost as if nothing’s changed as they walked in.

rem scoffs. “it’s not even that bad, calm down. the company who invited us again or something said that they’d clean up the place before we came here, and they delivered.” she points at the door. “they even fixed it and , shiny clean. it even looks like the electricity is on this time; you can feel the heater.”

“a godsend,” nathan mutters reverentially.

many of the friends set down their belongings, but damian bolts up the stairs with his bag. “i call the biggest room and the window bed!” he bellows, taking steps three at a time.

timothy screams as he runs up, too, grabbing his suitcase and holding it inches above the ground. “share with me, dami!”

kimberly’s eye twitches at seeing the giants bound around so jovially, but jennifer sidles beside her, and she forgets her irritation.

jennifer sighs. “you really think that anything will change while we’re here?”

kimberly shrugs. “i don’t know, jenny. i really don’t know.”

“i don’t know why, but i got a really bad feeling about this,” the thai-american mutters, lips thinned, but she falls mute as sam walks past, focused on the pokemon game on his phone’s emulator, the trills of music cheerily jangling as he ascends the stairs to find himself a room.

meanwhile, damian’s in the room, bags set down on the bed beside the window, and when timothy enters the room raggedly he smiles, arms out amiably. “hey! i got the best place for us!”

“and the window bed,” timothy puffs, brows knotted together. “dami… it ain’t fair if you can toss your bag up the stairs and do parkour, man…”

damian clicks his tongue. “the fittest survive man, and so do the coolest.”

in his opinion, he did a good job choosing the room. the previous year, he wasn’t as lucky in grabbing the large master to the right of the stairs, but as of now he and timothy can revel in all the open space and the sloping roof. it’s simplistic in its design, one bed shoved against the wall and another under the circular window, a divider in between that can be folded or unfolded at any time. the floor’s cooled wood, much like the rest of the lodge, but shag carpets rest underneath most of the furniture, so his feet aren’t terribly cold if he toes off his socks in the middle of the night and he has to go use the adjoining restroom ( they even have their own private bathroom how cool is that? ).

they’re joking around as they get settled in, timothy launching into another tirade of how bigfoot has been spotted in several of the forests near the area they’re staying, but eventually the atmosphere settles, and timothy grows calm.

“what’s up?” damian asks, zipping open his dufflebag.

“i don’t know…” timothy’s hands rest lightly on his suitcase. “sometimes… i think it’s my fault that they’re gone.”

he doesn’t have to name names, but damian knows exactly who he’s talking about, and he feels a wave of sadness wash over him. “tim, it wasn’t your fault, seriously. like, it’s for sure my fault and the fault of the others for joking around like that, because that was an move to pull while drunk, but you tried to stop us. how was it your fault?”

the younger shrugs, ping his suitcase and drawing out laundry. “i could’ve done more. could’ve stopped him somehow from running off.” he’s quiet for a second. “i shot that crow. things happened because of that, probably.”

“you’re kidding me,” damian says incredulously. “it’s a crow. you accidentally shot it; you didn’t mean to. it’s not like something happened to them because you shot that crow, tim.”

but timothy’s posture is sagging slightly, weary. “in folklore,” he begins, “crows represent wisdom, but they can also be warnings and foreshadowing too. and i shot one.”

damian snorts. “buddy, trust me. leave the superstition behind; nothing was your fault.” 

timothy nods at his words, so damian turns back to putting away his clothes, satisfied, but when he peeks back every so often to see timothy’s progress the younger is gnawing on his lower lip.

when they descend because timothy complains of his hunger after they unpack, kimberly is the first to catch damian’s attention with a greasy “eli… pal...”, head peeking from the doorway of the kitchen.

he sighs. no one uses that unless they want something from him. “what is it, kim?”

“i need my canon. i think i accidentally left it outside when we first got here, because i was taking pictures around that time.” her gaze sharpens. “not any candids of parker, though!”

“...okay?” didn’t this happen last year? damian chuckles as he reaches the ground floor. “uh, get it yourself?”

rem’s voice is loud enough for damian to hear from where he’s standing. “she can’t! she’s helping me right now with dinner!”

“dinner…” timothy echoes longingly.

“seriously, just get it so we can all be happy and she can stop complaining about stuff,” rem finishes, and kimberly turns her head to shoot the older woman a glare.

because it doesn’t seem like he’ll be fed that evening if he doesn’t comply, the blond sighs, trudges to the front of the lodge, and stuffs his feet into his sneakers.

the camera, damian finds, is around the side of the lodge. but the camera, damian thinks with mounting confusion, should be out on the bench at the front like the year previous, because they didn’t venture around the side when they first arrived. he stares down at the innocuous object, mind somersaulting around various conclusions before he gives up and warily reaches out.

a crow swoops in, snatching it with its talons and cawing, and it takes damian a whole two seconds before reality catches up and he turns on his heels to dart after it. “what the ?! get back here!”

like the thrill-seeker he is with a penchant for not thinking ahead, damian proceeds to chase the bird through the woods, leaping over logs and narrowly missing jagged branches jutting into the path as it flies overhead. it almost seems like it’s trying to bait him into following, but as soon as the thought winks into existence damian shakes it away, because there’s no reason for the crow to be doing that, and crows aren’t that smart to begin with.

as he feels his muscles tense from the physical exertion and the bird flies farther and farther, it finally swoops up a tree and into a nook meters above the ground, and damian stops abruptly at the base of the tree.

“god ing ,” he pants, squinting his eyes shut to will his legs to stop aching. he hasn’t done that much running since the 10k that julia had encouraged them all to join, three summers ago.

when he’s sure that his jelly-filled legs won’t give underneath him, he cranes his neck, lungs still heaving for air. is kimberly’s canon really worth climbing up a tree to retrieve?

no.

the blond huffs, kicking some pebbles resting on the snow in displeasure before he starts turning to leave. he stops and frowns when a reflection of light catches his eye, the sun slowly setting. damian takes a few steps closer and crouches in front of what caught his attention.

“what’s this doing out here?” he murmurs inquisitively upon scooping up a little earcuff, twisting it to peer at the simplistic design, but he eventually tucks it into his pocket and his interest to the back of his mind.

damian trods back to the lodge, empty-handed, and when he enters the living room sam is patiently explaining the significance of the eeveelutions to timothy, and no, he can’t trade his arceus for zekrom, that’s not how that works. kimberly stalks him out immediately, stating that she planned to take memorable pictures over dinner, and becomes irate when the blond informs her that a crow snatched it.

“son of a mumford!” she hisses out, balling her fists. “dumb hecking poop fricks, ugh!”

as kimberly spits out fifth-grade curses, damian catches timothy shrinking back in his seat a little in guilt, rubbing his hands against one another like he always does when he’s getting worried or anxious.

he makes eye contact with the younger. don’t feel bad, seriously, he communicates with a pointed look, and timothy hesitantly nods twice, still looking unsure.

parker walks in at this point, and damian suddenly remembers the earcuff tucked away in his pocket. he straightens a little, does his best not to show what he’s thinking, and says, “hey, parker? what happened to your earcuff thing? the cool metal one?”

parker shrugs. “i left it at home. i didn’t want to get frostbite.” his eyes are curious. “why?”

“no reason.” he stares back, brows furrowed at the lie. “just thought it was weird that you didn’t have it on you this trip.”

it’s hard not to notice the tension, but dominic saves the atmosphere when he softly steps into the living room from the kitchen, hesitantly saying, “uh… dinner is ready…”

his voice is too soft to hear ( damian infers his words have something to do with dinner from how his eyes continually flit back to the kitchen ), but nathan appears from the adjoining room as well and clears his throat to grab their attention. “okay, everyone! get up! dinner in the kitchen, let’s go, i know you’re all hungry. shoo, shoo.”

as the group of friends get up to stretch out the kinks, parker losing interest in the conversation and damian’s brows furrowing in thought, sam is back to healing his pokemon at the nearest center and distractedly getting up. when nathan gives his back a tiny shove, as he does to the others to cajole them into walking faster, the younger rapidly loses his balance with a yelp and flails his arms for equilibrium.

he’s only saved from wiping the floor when nathan snatches his arm, righting him. “oh geez, sam,” he utters. “work on your balance, kid.”

sam gives him a look of faux distaste, a mixture of amusement and tiny aggravation in his eyes as they file in to dinner. “please work on being patient in line, nate.”

nathan exits after him, gravely quoting more shakespeare, but by now everyone’s developed the ability to tune him out during his julius caesar phases.

--

“i need my camera back,” kimberly announces as the girls get ready for bed, filtering in and out of the long restroom as they chip at their nightly routine checklist.

“go get it then,” rem replies, rubbing moisturizer on her face in small circles. “it’s in a tree.”

“no one asked you, old woman.”

jennifer ducks in between the two to keep rem from launching forward, rolling her eyes as she grabs a hairbrush set on the counter. “listen, kimmy, you can go look for it tomorrow when the sun is actually up.”

kimberly stomps her feet. “but it’s a real sensitive camera! if it gets wet, that’s $500 down the drain!”

the thai-american sighs, wetting the bristles under the sink before running it through her hair. “then just go get it now. ask parker to get it with you or something.”

and so, the first place kimberly ducks in is parker’s room, door wide open for her and easy for her to peek into. it smells like strawberry jam, just like the sophisticated and devilishly-handsome young man sitting in the armchair by the window, but kimberly ignores her thoughts so she can coherently whine out a long “paa...ar...kker…”

parker, however, has his earphones in, a smooth face mask on as he reads some sort of thick, aged book he’s brought with him on the trip. she’s able to make out the title -- l’influence de la philosophie schopenhauerienne -- before she shuts off her french abilities because ugh, it’s more philosophy.

kimberly tries sam and dominic’s room next, knocking on the door. it opens slowly with a creak, and she has to crane her neck at dominic’s presence towering over her, face peeking out from behind the door and looking like a general recluse.

from the slight twist in his lips, she automatically understands that he’s anxious around her, so she keeps her words short and sweet. “you preparing for bed, domi?”

he curtly nods as a response, and she queries, “where’s sam?”

it takes a little longer for dominic to respond, lips opening and closing wordlessly before he can conjure his voice. “in t-the bathroom… d-down the h-hall.”

thus, after thanking the giant young man, kimberly ambles down the hall, quick strides bringing her to the bathroom and allowing her to slam the door open, but she quickly recoils as sam squawks, clutching his clothes to his pale chest, a towel wrapped around his hips and another tied around his head.

“kimberly chu, get the hell out!” he shrieks, high-pitched and voice carrying in the expansive bathroom.

“am sorry, a mistake i made,” kimberly robotically greets.

sam looks like he’s seconds away from planning her gruesome death, so she shuts the door and turns to walk down the hall, erasing the memory permanently from her mind.

the last place where kimberly visits with a desperate clutch on hope is timothy and damian’s shared room at the end of the hall. the door is slightly ajar, so she takes this as a sign that no one is in their birthday suit or doing particularly unsavory things and opens the door fully.

timothy is in the process of making his bed more comfortable, patiently fluffing up pillows and rearranging the lump of blankets at the base of his mattress, while damian lounges lazily on the bean bag near the dresser, snacking on some chips and blankly watching timothy hustle around.

kimberly is already irritated with them for grabbing the largest room in the lodge, but she narrows her eyes even more at the travel-sized plastic bag nestled in damian’s hands. “where the heck did you get more chips?! i thought we ate through them tonight!”

damian looks up guiltily at her. “uhh?” he eloquently responds.

timothy whips around. “damian saves some chips from the box whenever he buys them!” he declares. “he places them next to his underwear in his suitcase, i saw!”

“bro, you betrayed me.”

kimberly stares at the pair, vexed. “you literally just ate dinner. you had two steaks.”

“i’m a growing boy,” damian solemnly answers.

she claps her hand to her forehead, utter confusion making her skin itch, but the blond continues with a, “whatd’ya want, kim?”

“listen, i need help getting my camera,” the young woman says, to the point.

damian tuts. “sorry, no can do. i helped you out the first time getting your camera, and i am not about to go out there in the biting cold to retrieve it.”

“but you’re the only one who can climb trees!”

“that matters nothing.” the half-english young man crunches through another chip, legs for miles sprawled out in front of him. “i am staying within this warm, cozy lodge, finishing up my cool ranch doritos, and then i am going to get another bag to snack some more.” another crunch.

timothy, however, perks up. “oooh! are we exploring?” he asks excitedly. “wait, i wanna come along!”

the brunette grins. “yes! yes, fantastic, please, let’s go!”

and so, kimberly finds herself tapping her foot impatiently by the door, zip-up hoodie already over her pajamas, waiting ten minutes for timothy to get decked out in his scarf, two pairs of socks, and four different pairs of coats so they can go. as soon as he waddles to the door, the young woman does no less than shove him out and into a light jog, because she needs to seriously get her camera back.

five minutes of crunching snow pass without a word, kimberly puffing out her breath in white clouds and timothy making darth vader breathing noises unintentionally behind his scarf, and then kimberly stops in her tracks and shrilly screams.

“wHAT?” timothy yelps, by her side in an instant. “what’s wrong?!”

his companion stomps her foot. “that dumb arse damian should’ve gone with us! we have no idea where the camera is!”

timothy’s shoulders drop. “oh, i thought it was something serious.” kimberly fumes at him, however, and he straightens his posture. “not to worry! just, you know, let’s tell stories as we follow the trees. damian told me he stopped somewhere near two stacked logs? and it’s a pretty tall tree, so we’ll be able to get there in no time.”

he begins walking again, gesturing for kimberly to match his pace, and she reluctantly does so. “you seem to be close with damian these days,” kimberly says begrudgingly, a small talk starter.

timothy brightens. “yeah! i look up to him!” he says with jubilance, and the young woman feels a fond smile start to form. “he’s a really cool guy, no joke.” he grows silent, scratches the back of his head in thought, and then continues in a softer voice, “damian… needed this trip.” he fumbles with the end of his scarf, voice ridiculously muffled, and kimberly has to lean closer to catch the last of his sentence. “he wasn’t doing well after aiden and julia… well.”

kimberly finds herself tensing as well, because this is territory they just don’t talk about, but she forces the feeling away. “it’s been a while since we did this. walk around, you know?”

the taller hums. “it’s been a while since we did anything together, period. you remember the play dates, right?” 

“how could i forget you eating two tubs of play-doh?” he sputters, and she laughs. “nah, i didn’t forget. mom always brings it up when she skypes your mom. it’s hard to forget the kid you’ve been potty-trained with.”

“you mean, the kid you abandoned when you moved to the land of the free- ow, kimmy!” she had socked him.

more tranquil silence falls after. “do you remember going out to eat in the middle of the night with the group?”

“we did that?”

“yeah!” timothy laughs. “remember? because my mom’s a health freak, and cara bae was, like, ‘oh! that’s terrible! let’s go for drinks and fries or something!’”

his light and airy impression of cara, completely stereotypical and terrible, makes kimberly laugh, and she animatedly begins, “wait! i remember! you ate all my cheese sticks, and you had like three burgers.”

“did i?” the young man laughs guiltily, rubbing his chin. “i don’t remember all of a sudden.” the shorter pushes at him with a scoff, and he makes a threatening move to scoop up snow to dump onto her hair.

“those were good times,” kimberly concludes after another bout of laughter as they walk through the snow, the ice softly crunching underfoot. timothy looks ridiculous in his arctic getup and the young woman is pretty sure she does too in her polka-dotted pajamas, but in lieu of refreshing friendship and team bonding she frankly doesn’t care.

she remembers a time when it was just her amid a sea of frowning faces and whispers, but she pushes that to the back of her mind.

“hey, we’re here!” timothy chirps after a few more minutes of walking, their destination marked by the logs damian pointed out to his roommate earlier. they stop in front of the tree by the sawed logs, timothy craning his neck to squint at the nesting hole meters above them. “uh… it’s honestly not as bad as damian made it out to be. you just need to… step on a few branches at a time… uh, i think.”

kimberly whips her head to the side to squint at the taller. “wait, why am i going up?”

timothy scoffs like it’s obvious. “uhh, i would break the branches with my weight, probably, and you’re tinier, so you go up. plus, it’s your camera anyway, and i can’t do parkour like damian can.”

unamused but finding no way to argue against his reasoning, the young woman glares at him as she walks forward and grips onto the tree bark. she launches her legs up one branch at a time, finding crevices to fit her feet into as she slowly ascends and mutters child-friendly curses under her breath. 

underneath her, timothy becomes skittery after a few minutes of kimberly’s hissed non-expletives. “uh… kimmy?” he calls out. “chuchu? can you please hurry?”

“don’t call me that!” kimberly snaps, focused more on climbing the branches than the irritation crawling through her veins at the second nickname uttered.

“okay, okay! please don’t shout!” his voice trembles a little. “can you hurry?”

kimberly’s struggling to reach this last branch. “why, tim? i’m working.”

she can’t see his face from how high up she is, can’t gauge his expression to take a peek at his thoughts, but he promptly replies, “i think there’s a werewolf looking at us right now through the brush.”

at that, she wheezes out a small laugh. she had almost thought that there was an emergency to tend to, but it’s just timothy being timothy, and with that reassurance she leaps up and reaches her arm through the oval opening to grab her camera. her fingers clasp over the cold metal, relief flowing through her. “yes, got it!” she wraps the strap around her wrist. “anyway, tim, werewolves don’t exist. it’s just your imagination, believe me.”

“no, it isn’t,” timothy says worriedly, but kimberly doesn’t hear him because it’s at that moment that her foot decides to slip on the branch she’s standing on, and with a scream she begins to plummet towards the ground. the young man frantically does his best to catch her from a six-meter drop, but ends up only softening her fall as she collides into him and they both collapse at odd angles on the forest floor.

“freaking shiitake mcnuggets!” kimberly shouts, eyes scrunched together.

“oh… what…?” her companion sounds lost as he scrambles upright in the snow, worry on his face.

the shorter places gentle hands on her ankle after rolling up the pants cuff, face red from exertion and wincing. “god, i think i sprained my ankle!”

timothy directs his eyes towards the ankle, reddening and starting to swell already. he looks like he’s about to do something helpful to ease her pain as he inches closer, but instead he begins to slowly extend his finger. “does… does it hurt if i do this?”

“d ONT TOUCH IT YOU HEATHEN!” the smaller howls. “just pick me up and take me back to the cabin!”

--

parker and the rest of their friends didn’t appreciate having their bedtimes being interrupted with kimberly’s clamor and timothy loudly demanding that someone call 911, but timothy gently sets his companion down as they congregate in the living room. nathan offers her his silver flask with what he claims is green tea ( there’s an ongoing bet in a separate group chat that it’s chardonnay instead ), while damian has been delegated to part-time nurse as he wraps up her injuries with a first-aid kit he instructed dominic to get from the bathroom on the first floor, experience making his fingers nimble.

“you’re a ,” are parker’s first words to the young woman.

kimberly scowls up at him. ”what else do you expect me to do?! i can’t just leave my camera out there, and timmy was going on and on about a werewolf!”

from his position, dominic slowly blinks in confusion. timothy’s wild imagination has always gotten the better of him, but never before has the younger looked so nervous before, rubbing his hands together to diffuse anxiety. he observes as nathan automatically reaches down for the pad and pen he usually keeps on his person, an odd quirk he has in writing down anything that bears personal importance to him, but nathan’s in sleeping shorts and a tee, so he grasps nothing but air.

he folds his arms after the realization, asking, “what did you see, tim?”

“yeah, what did you see? the boogeyman?” parker questions unhelpfully, and rem snorts loudly.

timothy doesn’t glare at them for the quip. he stays quiet for a contemplative second, and responds, “i’m not sure what i saw, but i saw something.”

by now, however, everyone’s brushed off the topic of timothy seeing things that shouldn’t be there, and the young man is back to loudly whining to their friends how cold it was outside. dominic uncomfortably shifts, his fleece pants and long-sleeve shirt too constricting all of a sudden. from how freaked out timothy was, he obviously did see something, and at that thought the foreboding feeling in the pit of his stomach swells further, stubbornly lodges itself against his unsure voice of reason that there’s no such thing as monsters, you aren’t five anymore.

it’s only when jennifer leans in, concern on her features, that dominic realizes he’s been furiously tapping his fingers against his leg, one at a time in rapid beats of four.

“are you alright?” she asks, the smell of faint lavender washing over him.

he goes rigid when she shifts closer, immediately wary of a reassuring hand placed placed on his arm that would have the opposite intended effect, but to his surprise jennifer doesn’t touch him. he feels a momentary relief, because the only person around his age who he was comfortable with allowing into his more-personal bubble on a daily basis was julia, and she’s‒

he stops thinking because he doesn’t want to revisit that path.

after a quiet moment, however, he nods, and while their friends are chatting and kimberly’s fuming, jennifer says, “if you ever feel worried, dom, know that we’re here for you, okay? you’re gonna be alright with us.”

dominic doesn’t really trust himself to say anything, most certainly not a “but julia and aiden weren’t” drenched in the most bitter tone he can muster, because that’s all in the past and he’s to blame for that and he’ll most likely end up stuttering the sentence if he tries. he settles with another furtive nod.

jennifer hesitates before she gives a nod back, a small smile on her lips as she leans away, and oddly enough, dominic’s fingers have stopped tapping so rapidly.

“ing hell, kim,” damian curses, and dominic’s mind snaps back to the situation at hand. “you did yourself in bad. i have no clue what you have, but it isn’t a simple sprain. like i think something broke.”

kimberly’s eyes narrow. “what the heck are you talking about, damian?”

the blond exhales out of his nose. “i’ve had sprains before, and this- ” he gestures to kimberly’s wrapped-up ankle. “ -is not a sprain. i don’t know what you have but it’s gonna swell more than it already has for sure. we should call someone down here to get you to the hospital, like a park ranger or someone.”

“okay, now hold on just a minute!” kimberly’s voice is shrill. “listen, first of all, i don’t even feel that bad!” she winces right after that sentence after shifting slightly, and parker rolls his eyes. “second of all, it’s like nine right now? ten? the nearest park is probably shut down by now.”

nathan rolls his shoulders. “she’s right. nearest park is 50 kilometers from us.”

“didn’t they used to have rangers in this vicinity, though?” rem asks, brows furrowing.

“they did, but ever since the previous owners sold, no one’s been willing to hire rangers in this area for just-in-case emergencies,” nathan answers. “technically, we shouldn’t even be here? since it’s not public property, so it hasn’t been up-to-code since like… what… 2015, when it was given up?”

parker’s lip curls. “i knew we shouldn’t have come back.”

“we’re here now, though,” sam speedily states, and dominic thinks it sounds like sam’s narrowly reigning in the urge to snap. “and there’s nothing we can do about it, so what do we do now? aside from standing here above kimberly’s not-broken broken ankle.”

damian shrugs as he stands, helping kimberly to her feet with a strong grip on her arms. “all we can do is ice it. i don’t know what else to do. we can call the rangers in the morning when they open up, i guess.” he claps his hands. “back to bed, kids!”

dominic slowly climbs up the stairs, lost in his thoughts as his friends quietly talk to one another. he makes his way to his room, footsteps deliberate and light, but he tenses at the doorway when he sees sam settled underneath the covers before he is, and all of a sudden he’s entirely unsure how to act.

sam notices him dawdling by the doorway, and his brows knot in the middle. “come in. why are you just standing there?”

“s… sorry…” dominic begins tentatively as he shuts the door and inches towards his bed, but his apology seems to put sam in a more sour mood, as the other’s lips scrunch together in distaste.

he doesn’t say anything, which dominic is thankful for as he lies down in bed and pulls the covers over himself. his feet peek over the edge of the mattress, and when he draws the blankets to his chin, it leaves his ankles exposed.

sam blankly stares at him. “i don’t understand how you exist.”

“s-sorry?”

the shorter impatiently waves him off as he flicks the lights off. “just don’t. go to sleep.”

despite his succinct words, sam is the one who begins to talk minutes later, after a heavy silence befalls their room. “why are you… you?”

“... i d-don’t...” dominic makes out sam’s dark silhouette, from the corner of his eye. he’s incredibly confused because sam generally doesn’t look his way, much less start a line of conversation right when they’re about to head to bed.

“you can play onstage, and you’re so calm about it.” sam sounds irritated. “but you’re in front of us and you just…” the shorter heaves a sigh, and there’s more silence. “aren’t we your friends?”

“y-yes…” is sam… counselling him right now?

“people get tired of that vulnerable shtick after a while.” his words are blunt. “either they leave you, or they take advantage of you, and this group will do one of the two if you don’t change.”

dominic waits for more life-changing, non-agitated advice to fall from sam’s lips, but it appears the other has  nothing left to say, as there’s shuffling under the sheets on the other side of the room and then stillness, and dominic does his best to follow the other’s lead in sleeping.

he shuts his eyes, allows his breathing to slow, ignores the disproportion of heat in his toes versus his torso, and focuses on his own breathing.

one, two, three, four. one, two, three, four. one… two… three...

he doesn’t remember falling asleep, but he snaps awake from sleeping, abruptly sitting up in bed and pulse racing upon hearing a muffled scream.

eyes wide in terror and mouth suddenly feeling dry, he sees a bulky figure hovering above sam, the latter struggling against rope restraints and hyperventilating against a cloth gag. the figure presses a white cloth to sam’s nose, ignoring its captive’s tear-streaked cheeks and ragged cries. sam weakly struggles against the cloth, but falls limp seconds later within the stranger’s arms.

his heart is about to leap out of his chest. everything is happening too fast and it’s too much and his trembling fingers tapping out rapid beats against the mattress do nothing to appease his speeding heart rate. the fear is close to overwhelming him. he needs to get out of the room as quickly as possible but he’s too dizzy to.

the figure turns to face him, and even in the darkness of the room dominic can make out a burlap sack over the other’s head; small holes haphazardly cut out for eyes, a wide stitched mouth that stretches to the cloth ears gruesomely. the stranger is shorter than dominic, stockier, dressed in overalls and large boots, but he barely registers this as he’s sporadically overcome with hot and cold flashes.

“shh…” the figure rumbles in a deep voice as they step closer. 

dominic’s breath is coming out in short puffs. he shakes his head as the stranger steps closer, holding his hands up to cradle his head. the steps are too loud, his breathing is too loud, his thoughts are too loud.

the figure leans in, smelling of warm blood. “i’ll take care of you, domi,” they rasp out, reaching out to hold the white cloth to dominic’s mouth. he tries to angle his head away, but they hold him still with tremendous force, and as he unwillingly breathes in the chemicals his vision turns murky black.