Disclaimer: I don't own Until Dawn.

A/N: So there's this great tumblr, untildawn-headcanons, and two of their posts basically inspired this story (SPOILERS, a bit I guess):

"Mike goes back to the mountain soon after "That Night" to rescue the wolf that helped him. The wolf is far too tame to live on it's own and Mike feels deeply indebted to the wolf he names "Buddy". He trains Buddy intensely because he's still a wolf. Jess is nervous at first but the two warm up to each other eventually and Jess has less nightmares when she stays at Mike's place, knowing that Buddy is there."

and

"Sam and Mike form a deep friendship. It puts a bit of strain on Mike and Jess' relationship at first but kindness and patience and time puts her fears at ease, if not permanently to rest."

Thanks for the inspiration, I really enjoyed writing this one. :)


Fall Not into Despair (For You are Loved)


Hope is the thing with feathers

That perches in the soul,

And sings the tune without the words,

And never stops at all,

- Hope is the Thing with Feathers,

Emily Dickinson


I must be nuts.

The thought crossed Mike's mind, not for the first time. Early morning sun reflected off the snow, blindingly bright, as the ice crystals crunched under his and Sam's hiking boots. The sky above was so blue it hurt to look at and all around them, the pine trees echoed with the distant calls of birds.

He'd never much cared for birdsong but right now, back on Blackwood Mountain for the first time since that terrible fucking night, there was no more comforting sound in the world. Because if the birds were singing, that meant there was nothing more sinister than elk abroad in these woods.

Get a grip, Mike. They're nocturnal. That's why we're here at 10 o'clock in morning and will be off this cursed rock by 3pm, regardless of whether we find what we've came for or not.

The logical thought didn't help much. He was still tensed like a coiled spring, half expecting a horrible, inhuman shriek to echo through the trees at any moment.

Mike's grip tightened on his shotgun reflexively, wishing for a flamethrower instead, something that would actually kill the creatures. Then he felt a light touch on his elbow. He glanced back to see Sam looking at him, with a clear, steady gaze. A slight, encouraging quirk of her lips and a nod was all she gave him but it was enough to make him relax a little.

Thank God for Sam.

It was weird, the way they'd reached this level of understanding that didn't require words. He hadn't been all that close to Sam in their friend group before the events of That Night. Oh, don't get him wrong, he'd definitely respected her – she was strong and fit, and went hiking and climbing and mountaineering at every opportunity. (She was pretty hot too, that didn't hurt either.) They just didn't have much in common, and Sam's opinion of him pretty much hit rock-bottom after the ill-fated prank on Hannah (God, just thinking about it turned his stomach, that stupid fucking prank and everything that it had led to). She had treated him with icy politeness for the next year, which really was about all he'd expected after he was partially to blame for her best friend's disappearance and likely death.

But then That Night had happened, and it turned out that there are some things that you can't help but bond over – and apparently, fighting cursed, cannibalistic monsters was one of those things.

Yeah, we make a pretty fucking awesome team. Mike couldn't help but grin as he remembered their silent communication in the lodge, when they'd manage to come up with a plan, put it into action, and blow up the building with the wendigos still inside, all without speaking a word. It had been fucking terrifying of course, but he couldn't deny the rush of exhilaration he'd felt when they'd pulled it off.

"That's it, right?"

Sam's voice pulled him from his thoughts and he looked up. The Blackwood Sanatorium sat above them on the hill; a crumbling ruin, another casualty of the curse of the wendigo, and their current destination.

"Yeah, that's it," he replied, subdued again at the sight of it. Oh, and it is – was – the flamethrower guy's house too, I suppose. I wish I had found out his name. It feels wrong to keep calling him 'the old guy', or 'the flamethrower guy'. We probably would have died without him. Too many of us did anyway.

Mike felt his mood darken again and gave himself a shake. Mope later, Mike. You have a wolf buddy to save and a mountain to get the fuck off and never set foot on ever again.

Jess thought he was nuts too. It was the worst fight they'd ever had, over his decision to go back.

"It's just a fucking wolf, Michael!" Jess had screamed, her eyes over-bright and her cheeks flushed with two hectic spots of colour. "What the hell is wrong with you? Why would you want to go – to go back to that – that place –"

Her voice broke twice mid-sentence and she turned away, pressing one shaking hand over her mouth as her anger gave way to the true emotion fuelling her rant – fear.

Mike gathered her up, murmuring desperate words of comfort as he rested his head on top of hers, wrapping her in a tight hug. Jess had always been short and slight but Blackwood had given her a layer of fragility that had little to do with her physical form. Regardless, she felt small and delicate in his embrace without the exuberant energy she used to radiate, and he felt a wave of fierce protectiveness sweep over him as he held her.

"It's okay, Jess," he murmured, stroking her back soothingly. "I'll be safe. They – they only come out at night. I'll go in the daylight and leave plenty of time to get on and off the mountain. Two days. I'll only do it for two days, if I can't find Buddy on the first go."

Jess was silent for a few moments, her ragged breathing slowly evenly out. Mike could feel her heart rate slowing down too, from where she was pressed against him, and for a moment he was distracted by her warmth and softness, the fact that she was here and alive in his arms. The thought of her not making it off the mountain was so painful it stole his breath and he immediately rejected the idea. It didn't happen, he reminded himself, pressing his nose to Jess' blonde hair. It didn't happen.

But it could have, so easily. That was what was so terrifying. So many of their friends didn't survive Blackwood Pines…

"Why are you so set on finding this wolf, Mike?" Jess' voice broke into his thoughts and he blinked, refocusing on the conversation.

"Because I would have died without him, Jess," Mike said earnestly, eager to convince her now that she was calmer and listening. "He led me safely through the Sanatorium when it was filled with wendigos. And I don't think he can survive on his own, now that the old guy is dead. He looked way too tame for that. He doesn't even have the other wolf that was there; the wendigos killed that one too. He's completely on his own."

Jess was silent again but Mike could almost hear the thoughts whirring inside her head. When she heaved a deep, heartfelt sigh, he knew he'd won. It made him glad and guilty at the same time. "Fine." Jess blew out a breath. "But make sure you get off that fucking mountain before dark, Michael Munroe. And –" she hesitated, then ploughed on, "– take Sam with you, if she'll go."

Now that was surprising. Mike leaned back a little so he could look at his girlfriend's face. Her mouth was set in a thin, determined line, even though her eyes were pained. He was pretty sure he would have formed a close bond with Sam anyway, seeing as she was the only other Blackwood survivor aside from him and Jess, but the events of that night had sealed the deal, forming the basis of a deep and (hopefully) enduring friendship.

Unfortunately, that had put a bit of a strain on his and Jess' relationship. His girlfriend's confidence had taken an alarming dip after that night; she was self-conscious of the terrible scarring caused by the wendigos' claws, and her bright, trusting nature was dimmed by shock and trauma. It had made her afraid of the deepening friendship between Sam and Mike – even he could see that, despite his sometimes woeful obliviousness to the finer details of emotional reactions. He and Sam had done their best to reassure her, as gently as possible, but only time would prove the truth of their words.

Subsequently, he was rather surprised that she was volunteering Sam to go along with him. "Why?" he asked softly, taking care to keep anything other than curiosity from his tone.

Jess took a deep breath, her fingers tightening in his shirt sleeves. "She – she can handle herself in a fight," the blonde said haltingly. "She'll have your back if anything goes wrong. Even if I – even if I could bring myself to go – go back – I don't think I'd be able to help if we were attacked. I'd probably just – just freeze up, or something equally useless."

Her voice cracked halfway through the sentence and Mike hugged her tighter. "You're not useless, Jess," he whispered fiercely into her hair. "Don't ever think that. You survived a fall into the mines that would have killed most people, and made it out of there on your own, despite broken ribs and internal injuries and hypothermia – not to mention being chased by another fucking wendigo. Don't you dare ever say you're useless Jessica Miles. Don't you dare."

Jess made a sound that was half-laugh, half-sob and burrowed her face further into his shirt. "Just come back," she said, voice muffled by the fabric. "Find your stupid pet wolf and come back to me, you idiot."

"Anything for you, Milady." Mike smiled as she snorted at the endearment.

"Idiot," she repeated, leaning into the embrace and he hugged her back just as tightly. "You're an idiot, Michael Munroe."

He was beginning agree with that assessment himself, frankly. He watched as Sam boosted herself over the wall ahead of him, then followed her over with considerably less grace. He landed in the Sanatorium's courtyard and then straightened up, looking around.

It was weird, how different it looked in the day. The vast, derelict building had appeared terrifying at night, when the wolves' howling had echoed through the swirling snow and the dark. Now, a month later in the bright sunlight, it looked more sad and abandoned than anything else, and he knew for a fact that there was nothing to fear from those particular wolves.

"This way." Mike led Sam to the front door and cracked it cautiously open. The interior was as desolate as he remembered it being, the great entrance hall littered with enormous chunks of rubble and ruined remnants of things like tables and desks.

"How are we going to find him?" Sam asked quietly. Her eyes roamed the hall alertly, even as her fingers tightened on her shotgun. She put up a good front but Mike could tell that being back on this mountain was affecting her too; he could see it in the tightness around her eyes and the way that she constantly monitored their surroundings.

That was a good question. He didn't know what the wolf's actual name was, or if he even had one. He'd just called him 'Wolfie' or 'Buddy' the entire time he was with him, but that wasn't exactly going to help him now. "I dunno, I thought maybe I'd just whistle," he said, shrugging.

Sam sighed. "Call his name too. Or whatever name you gave him," she added, seeing he was about to protest. "He'll hopefully recognise your voice, if not the actual name itself."

They set off across the room, Mike calling for Buddy as loudly as he dared. There was something about the ruined grandeur of the old building that made him want to speak in a hushed tone – that, and he couldn't shake the urge to be quiet to avoid drawing the wrong sort of attention.

It's the middle of the day, he reminded himself sternly, even as he kept calling for the wolf. They're sleeping, or doing whatever the fuck it is that cannibal monsters do during their downtime.

"Do you hear that?" Sam's voice broke into his thoughts and he looked at her questioningly.

"Hear what?" he asked. Sam opened her mouth to reply and then he did hear it; a low whine and the sound of claws scrabbling on stone.

"Buddy!" Mike couldn't keep the delight from his shout and the whining grew louder at the sound of his voice. Following the noise, he ran across the room and realised it was coming from behind the chapel doors.

Of course. I'm an idiot – that's where the old guy hung out all the time, it would make sense Buddy would head back there.

Handing his shotgun to Sam, who had followed close behind him, he quickly set his feet and heaved the heavy door open. It swung wide and there, on the other side, was Buddy.

Mike dropped to his knees and the wolf rushed forwards into his arms, butting his great head against Mike's chest and whining in a heart-breaking fashion. "Hey, Buddy," he whispered, scratching the wolf's ears and trying to keep the catch from his voice. "Miss me?" He stroked along one of Buddy's flanks and frowned at the feel of prominent rib bones, which had been disguised by the thick fur.

"Sam?" he glanced up at his friend, to see that she had already put down the shotguns and swung the rucksack off her back. Reaching inside, she withdrew the leg of lamb that they had brought just in case and carefully unwrapped the bloody plastic, before placing it on the ground in front of the wolf.

Mike stood up, brushing off his knees and retreating a few paces as Buddy pounced on the proffered meat like a – well, like a starving wolf. Damnit, I should have come sooner. Poor guy probably hasn't had a decent meal in weeks.

"Stop that," Sam chided, elbowing him in the ribs.

"Stop what?" Mike contrived to look innocent but Sam gave him a look that said she was on to him.

"Feeling guilty," she clarified nonetheless. "I think Buddy will understand that you had other things on your mind and that you came to help her as soon as you could."

"I still think – what?" Mike blinked, derailed from his train of thought. "Her?"

Sam raised an eyebrow, looking amused. "Her, Mike. That is, in fact, a female wolf."

Mike took a long, hard look at the wolf. Oblivious to the sudden scrutiny, the wolf kept munching happily. "Well, shit," he said eventually, feeling a little embarrassed. "Guess I just assumed."

Sam laughed, an honest-to-God belly-deep laugh, and the sound of her genuine, unrestrained laughter made a broad grin spread across Mike's face in response. Sam didn't laugh often nowadays and it was enough to make him not care about any embarrassment on his part.

"Guess it was pretty dark, too?" she asked, laughter trailing off into little chuckles.

Mike laughed sheepishly. "That too," he admitted. Buddy finished her meal and stood up, licking her reddened muzzle to clean the blood off her fur, before padding over to Mike. She sat down at his side and opened her jaws wide in a canine yawn.

"I think that's a hint, Mike," Sam said, grinned impishly. "Time to get this lady off the mountain so she can take a nap."

"Sam, if you were tired you could have just said so," Mike grinned, deliberately misunderstanding. "I understand that you need your beauty sleep."

"Not as much as you Michael," Sam riposted, turning to scoop up the shotguns. She handed him his, a mischievous smile playing about her lips. "You forget, I've seen you first thing in the morning. Not a pretty sight."

"Ouch, Sam," Mike clapped a hand to his heart exaggeratedly, adopting a wounded tone. "Straight for the kill."

"No mercy," Sam agreed, still grinning as she started walking away. "Come on, Mike, I'm not carrying you all the way down this mountain just because you're sleepy."

Buddy trotted after her, then paused to look back at Mike, head cocked expectantly. He started to jog forward, whining in an exaggeratedly childish voice, "But Mom, I'm tired! Carry meeeeee!"

Her laughter made him grin again, and as they stepped out into the sunlight, Buddy at their side, he felt some of the grief that had seemed permanently lodged in his chest since That Night unfurl and flutter away, as light and ethereal as a butterfly.

It's going to be okay. Even if it takes a while, we're all going to be okay.

xxx

Jess woke with a startled gasp. For a moment, she was completely disorientated, as her mind wavered between dream and reality. Then world came into focus around her and awareness rushed back in. Mike's apartment. I'm at Mike's apartment. It's safe. I'm safe here.

She sank back against the pillows, still trembling a little. It had been six months since Blackwood and these fucking dreams still plagued her sleep.

Cold. Dark. Grey light, dust motes swirling in the air, a rock passageway. The chilling screech of an inhuman monster.

Jess shuddered, gathering the duvet and the additional blanket tighter around herself. If there was one thing she couldn't stand anymore, it was being cold. She had loved winter once; snowflakes and frost and the cold, pure bite of the air as she breathed it all the way down into her lungs. Now it all meant was terror; terror and being dragged down into the dark under the earth, by a terrifying creature that shouldn't even exist.

She had nearly died of hypothermia and sometimes she felt like she had never really been warm since.

Leaning over, Jess cranked the dial on the radiator up to the max. Then she switched on the light and called softly, "Buddy!"

There was a moment's silence. Then there came the reassuring click of claws from the corridor and the grey wolf padded into her and Mike's bedroom. "C'mon, Buddy," Jess encouraged, and the big wolf leapt up onto the bed. She turned around three turns before lying down next to Jess, broad and furry and warm and comforting; the blonde curled closer to her canine companion, relaxing in her familiar presence.

She had been dubious at first and not a little nervous (after her initial reaction of blinding fear and panic at the mere thought of Mike going anywhere near the mountain again) at the idea of sharing the apartment with a wolf. But Buddy had already seemed very well trained and Mike had kept that up religiously, enough so that it didn't take long for her to warm up to the big wolf when she had seen how non-aggressive she really was.

She liked no one better to cuddle than Buddy now too, after she discovered how much heat the canine radiated – much to Mike's playful indignation.

"Ditched, for a wolf!" he had lamented exaggeratedly.

"Sorry, Mike," Jess murmured, hiding her smile in Buddy's flank. "She's just so warm, like a living hot water bottle. You've been usurped."

He had pouted and she had laughed and it had been a golden moment, fleeting and beautiful. They were gradually becoming more frequent now – for a while after Blackwood, she'd felt like she'd never smile again. But she was now, more and more. Thanks to Mike – and Sam.

Sam.

She'd felt so guilty – guilty and neurotic, when she'd freaked out over how close Sam and her boyfriend were becoming. It wasn't Sam's fault she was such a wreck after That Night, both mentally and physically. She closed her eyes as she remembered when she'd called Sam over to talk, three months after Blackwood, two months after they'd retrieved Buddy.

She and Sam had sat on the floor in the living room in the semi-dark, backs against the wall. Jess had offered to light candles but Sam had twitched in a way that Jess had come to recognise all too well and politely declined, her eyes a little haunted. Jess remembered seeing the same look in her eyes the first time the other blonde went to take a bath and hurriedly exited the bathroom a mere ten seconds later, muttering about having a shower instead.

Yay for trauma,she had thought sarcastically. We're all fucked up in one way or another. And speaking of that…

"I'm sorry," she said in a low voice, eyes fixed on her fingernails. They were painted a fascinating shade of blue. "For freaking out about you and Mike."

Sam started to make a protesting noise but Jess cut her off. "No, I've been stupid," she said, glaring at her hands. "I've been stupid, and terrified of losing him ever since that night. After all, I'm no prize now; covered in scars and with enough mental trauma to fill an airport carousel's worth of baggage. And I – I thought," she took a deep breath, feeling something painful creak inside her chest, "Why would he want me, when he could have you? You went through just as much shit as I did, most of it actually with Mike, and came out a good deal more mentally intact than me. You're the only other person in the world that understands what happened to us, and you're so much stronger and braver than I am. So much better. What am I, next to that?"

Sam was silent for a moment. Then her arm curled gently around Jess' shoulders. "You are strong, Jess." The other blonde's voice was firm and unyielding. "You survived that mountain, regardless of what injuries you took. And Mike loves you, so, so, much. Never doubt that."

Jess leaned into Sam's embrace, the tight feeling in her chest loosening at the other woman's words. "Thank you, Sam," she murmured. "Thank you for being so understanding." There was quiet for a few seconds, then a thought occurred to her. "You should move into our building."

There was surprised silence for a second. "What?" Sam asked, sounding bewildered.

"A free apartment just opened up," Jess said, her thoughts racing ahead. "I was speaking to the landlady and she told me about it. And that way – that way you can be close to us too. In case you need us," she finished softly.

For a few seconds there was only the sound of the two young women breathing. The Sam spoke, sounding a little choked. "Thanks Jess. I – I'd like that."

Jess breathed, letting some of her tension and stress wash away. Buddy was here. Sam was only two floors below her. Mike was three streets over, finishing the night shift at his part-time job that he'd had to cover for a sick colleague; he'd be home before dawn. Everything was fine. Everyone was safe.

Repeating that mantra, Jess let herself slide into sleep, lulled by Buddy's warm, solid presence beside her.

A few hours later, she half-woke as Mike came in, doing his level best to be quiet as he got changed. She listened, still half-asleep, with a slight smile on her lips as he tried to shush Buddy whose tail was thumping in welcome.

The mattress dipped behind her and a warm, muscular body slid into place behind hers. Jess made a sound that was almost a purr of contentment; bracketed between her boyfriend and their pet wolf made for a fantastic level of heat. "Sorry," Mike whispered. She felt him press a light apologetic kiss to the nape of her neck. "I didn't mean to wake you."

"S'fine," Jess mumbled, rolling over to press her face to his chest. In a few hours, she would slip out of bed herself, and she and Sam would get the ball rolling on the new day with a dawn run for Buddy as they always did now, jogging through the town and out into the countryside, just as the sun started to spill light across the landscape. "It's my turn in a few hours."

Mike chuckled, the sound vibrating against her cheek. "Don't remind me."

Jess smiled and then laughed as she felt a cold nose press against her bare shoulder, Buddy huffing out a breath. "At least someone's looking forward to it."

Mike laughed too and Jess closed her eyes, smiling at the warmth in her chest and the quiet, golden moment blooming around them. It would be gone in a minute, that fleeting joy, that moment of happiness with no room for sadness or fear, but Jess' faith was slowly building with each passing day that there would be more to come.

I am not broken.

They did not win.

Then Buddy licked her shoulder and Jess shrieked in surprise, before bursting out laughing. Mike joined in as he realised what had just happened, and the little bedroom rang to the sound of their laughter.

We are all going to be okay.


A/N: Phew. All done. xD Thanks for reading – if you enjoyed, please let me know in a review. :)