- Disclaimer: This is fanfiction and intended to be read as such. All publicly recognized characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. No infringement intended. All original intellectual property is solely owned by its creator: the author.

-Spoilers: Duh!

- A/N: This fic takes place a year after the events in the game Until Dawn under the premise that all survived. The variations on injuries and resulting relationships (i.e. Ashley and Chris end up as a couple rather than the alternative) will be glanced over via narrative. Also, keeping with the theme of the game's story telling, we're going to skip around from character to character(s)' chronicles.


1


"How you holding up, Beautiful?"

Jessica glanced over to her fiance, Mike, in the driver's seat. His handsome features were highlighted with the lights from the dashboard, the sun hadn't quite made it over the horizon and although a little pink was starting to peek out from the East, the sky was mostly a dark canvas spotted with distant stars and their galaxies.

"Doing just fine." she replied less than truthfully. She untangled her fingers from the hem of her blouse; fidgeting was one of her main tells. Not that Mike had to be an expert at reading her body language - which the last year of their relationship had undoubtedly made him - their destination was a dreaded event. Something they both hoped they could avoid. "Still, I wish Em hadn't insisted on having her book release party at the hospital. Just seems… I don't know."

"Creepy, tacky, in-bad-taste? You can pick any adjective, they'd all be right." he smirked at her and that made a not-unpleasant shiver run down her core. After all this time the man could make her feel like the silly, school girl she once was. Wished she still could be. "You know Emily, she loves the attention. Having the release party where her fifteen-minutes-of-fame started seems exactly like something she'd do. I bet she would of had the party at the Lodge on Blackwood if the Washington's' would have let her."

The mention of the Lodge made Jess shift uncomfortably in her seat.

"Hey," he placed his hand on her knee. "Things will work out." Mike did his best to reassure her. She knew most men would say something like It's going to be okay or It'll be fine, but their therapists had warned about using "false declarations". No one can foresee the outcome to any event. The fact that he was practicing the lingo from those bullshit doctors at the hospital made her want to laugh, but strangely enough it actually worked to calm her.

"Things will work out." she repeated the mantra trying her best to smile. "So, how much longer until we get into town?"

Mike flipped the blinker, the prosthetic fingers on his left hand clicking against the plastic signal switch. He looked over his shoulder before changing lanes. "Well, we should be in town by eight. That gives us time to get a room at the hotel, shower, take a nap before heading over to the party this evening. Or…"

"Or?" She prompted in a flirting timbre.

He peered sidelong at his soon-to-be-bride. The hand on her knee moved and picked up her wrist, he pulled her palm to his lips and kissed her there gently. "Or we could just crawl into bed and make love." Kiss. "All." Kiss. "Day." Kiss. "Long."

Jessica hummed with enjoyment.

Mike continued, "It would be so hawt." Playfully he nibbled at the delicate skin of her hand.

She giggled and slapped his shoulder with her free hand. The expression he'd used was a nod to a time when they first started dating. How inexperienced she was and how rudimentary her pillow talk had been? That was a year ago. A lifetime ago. "Just get us to the hotel, Casanova, and I'll show you how hawt it can get."


"And chili-cheese fries" Ashley told her boyfriend.

Chris leaned his head further out the car window, talking into the voice box at the drive-thru. "And an order of chili-cheese fries."

"Small or large?" the disembodied voice of the fast-food worker asked.

"Small, I guess." he replied, lacking enthusiasm.

"Please pull forward."

"Maybe we should have gotten a large order?" Ash pondered as she twirled a strand of her auburn hair around her finger.

Moving the van they'd been gifted by Ashley's parents up the take-out line, Chris let out a sigh. "I mean, I think we ordered enough. Don't you? We should be in town in less than an hour and I promised Mike we'd meet up for breakfast."

"Babe," his girlfriend mewled, "You know how I get when I have my cravings. Besides, I'm eating for two now after all." She patted her swollen belly.

"Yeah, but I don't think you're technically eating for two." Just how big was a fetus at twenty-six weeks gestation? "Maybe one and a quarter?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" she asked defensively.

"Nothing. Sorry. Forget I said anything." On his suggestion she did, her large hazel eyes staring dreamily at the restaurant's neon lights reflecting off the windshield. Chris pushed his thick rimmed glasses up the bridge of his nose. He was becoming agitated. "Is it just me or do you wish we'd read the fine print before we released the rights to our story to Emily? Being contractually obligated to go to the premier party seems a bit much."

"I think you're just grouchy. Yes, Em is a total bitch for making us go, but look at the bright side: we get to see everyone again. We haven't all been together since... um, hmm. Who was the last to be released from the hospital?"

Chris moved the van a couple of feet further up the line. "Jessica. Jess was the last one released."

"That's right. Man, she was a mess." Ash shuddered, most likely recalling not only of her friend's mental instability after that horrible night, but also all of the physical injuries she'd suffered. "If it weren't for Mike, I don't know how she would have pulled through."

"Yeah, well Mike's just that kind of guy." His tone more morose than intended. Ash was right, he was grouchy. Who could blame him? With all the time that had passed, he'd hope to never have to go anywhere near Blackwood Mountain or the hospital the group had been admitted to following their rescue. Being forced to drive back all because of Emily's "based on a true story" tabloid fodder, would make anyone sulk. Stopping every thirty miles for Ash's pee breaks wasn't helping the situation either.

His sour mood only became worse as they approached the pickup window of the restaurant and the cashier's eyes lit up with recognition when she saw him. "Hey, aren't you one of the guys from the Blackwood Teens?"

Chris bristled at the term. He silently cursed the media frenzy that had dubbed the group that ridiculous title.

"Oh, my gosh." the cashier gushed. "You are! You were all over the news, what was it, like a year ago?"

He nodded derisively, not wanting to encourage her, and handed over his credit card.

She went on, "My church group prayed for you guys. We also prayed for your lost friend, the Washington's boy. Sucks that they never found him."

He said nothing, the subject of his missing best friend was something Chris never liked to discuss. The girl seemed to be waiting for a response and stood behind her little folding window smiling ear to ear. When the silence between them became too loud Ashley spoke up. "That's very kind of you. Is our order ready?"

"Of course." The cashier blinked a couple of times and then handed the food his way. Chris in turn, passed the greasy bags to Ashley. "Drive safely."

They pulled away from the fast-food joint into the mostly empty parking area. Chris shut his eyes for a brief moment and made a visible effort to remain calm.

"You okay?" Ashley asked.

For the first time in a long while Chris considered answering honestly, instead he said, "I just don't want to go this this stupid party."

"Aww," Ashley cooed with sympathy. "Well, let's just not go. How much trouble could we get in?"

"Legally? Lots." He put the van back in gear. "We should go."

"You're always right." she responded absently.

"I wish I wasn't," he breathed out slowly, getting ready to get them back on the dark highway and grudgingly fulfill his commitment. "Here we go."

"Wait." Ash said, biting the tip of a french fry. "I think I need to pee again."


"Say that again." Samantha said into her cell phone. Seeing that others on the bus were eyeing her she turned to face the window. Staring out into the darkness she tried to find some sense of privacy in the very public space.

"I said, that legally we are at a stand still." her father droned from the other end of the call.

"How can that be? Those images are of me, very private images. I should have the right to have them removed from the internet." The hand she had used to protect her exposed ear against the noisy surroundings had now snaked up into her hair and was threatening to ruin her messy, blonde bun.

"And I would like to do that for you, but I can't exactly send a cease and desist order to Mr. Washington. Not when his whereabouts are still under investigation."

"What about his parents. Can't you force them to take down those videos?"

"I'm afraid not. The digital images from the Washington's Lodge were uploaded to an offshore site, on a domain that was purchased by Josh Washington after his eighteenth birthday. His parents will not have the rights to his property until he is declared deceased."

"So, until they find his body," her eyes squeezed shut trying to block out the images that popped into her head. "Those hidden camera videos can just stay up?"

"Essentially, yes."

"That's just great." Sam gave a short, sardonic chuckle.

Her father exhaled loudly, "Sammy, I understand and I promise you I've done all that we could with my office's resources."

While she had no doubts regarding her father's abilities as an attorney, she did doubt anyone could possibly understand what she was going through; with the exception of those other people on those videos. Having that night of horror used as click bait to anyone with internet access was insult to injury, especially to someone who may have been wandering around in a towel a majority of the time.

"Samantha," her dad's voice seemed to soften. "Your counselor called to tell us that you haven't been to any of your sessions in quite some time. I hope, at the very least, you're continuing to take your medications."

Her eyes darted to her pink backpack on the bus seat next to her. The full prescription bottle was somewhere near the bottom of the bag. "Dad, I told you, I don't need those pills or counseling. I much rather meditate." Or kick-box, or wall climb, or any other activity that made her feel physically strong.

"I'm just worried, with the book release and all. You're under a lot of stress."

She took a steeling breath. "I'm fine. I'm... I'm good. Things have been stressful, yes, but I can get through this. It's just a silly publicist party anyway. I'm sure it will be full of dull, self centered speeches, watered down champagne and those little hors d'oeuvres with toothpicks through them. Besides, I should be there to support Emily. This is a big deal for her."

"Ah yes, Emily. I've seen her running the early morning show circuit. She's seems very… Tenacious."

"By tenacious, you mean pig-headed, you're not far off. At least that's the common consensus. But there's more to her than that, and after Matt broke things off between them she's been pretty much on her own this year. I worry about her."

"It wouldn't harm you to worry about yourself every now and then."

Hearing the chastising tone in her father's voice Sam decided it was her queue to end the call. "Alright Dad, I'm almost in town so I talk to you later. I'll call you tonight after the party."

"Very well. I love you."

"Yeah… me too."

She pressed end call on her cell, the background image on the display changed to a picture of Josh. Samantha stared it for a moment, something akin to a smile played on her lips before locking the phone and slipping it into her jacket pocket.


Thank you for reading. I have no beta so errors are inevitable.