Author's Note: Thank you for the support I've received on this work so far! This chapter has been a long time coming, but I felt not rushing kept the quality of the chapter (at least I hope it did).

Trigger Warning: There will be serious suicidal behavior in this chapter. If this is at all harmful to you, please skip to the next "***" when you reach "The campground blurred around her." This work will continue to deal with the heavier topic of depression and I always want to do so in a way that won't trigger readers. Please see resources at the end of the chapter that are there to help. Remember, you aren't alone.

Per usual, I have created a playlist for this chapter and drew a moment. Disclaimer: the drawing was made before I fully thought out the scene in question so the action is drawn incorrectly. However, this is easily one of my best works as a beginner in the art world so please overlook that so I don't have to redo it haha.

"Unsettling Stillness" Playlist

1.) Lonely Dance by Set It Off, 2.) Gotta Move by Barbra Streisand, 3.) Clare De Lune by Claude Debussy performed by Shelley Kelley, 4.) Home by Michael Bublé, 5.) Love v. Logic by JP Saxe, 6.) Little Secrets by Passion Pit, 7.) The Splitting of Yourself in Two by Brooke Waggoner

She felt stiff. Even blinking her eyes open from sleep felt like a chore. The sheets were pure white, which was shocking for Camp Wawanawkwa, and they felt safe. She must've fallen asleep yesterday. Everything felt heavy, even the cheap sheets production bought that were definitely a thread count too low for her liking.

With whatever motivation she had in her body, she peeled down her covers. The cabin was empty and bright light was shining through the screen door. She hated nights. She hated having to put away the day Before and step into the After. She could make this bed like her bedroom at home. Time could stop here.

"GOOD MORNING CAMPERS!"

Time didn't stop. It never would. Not as long as she kept stepping into new Nows.

But what if she just laid there? What if she didn't move? Maybe they'd forget about her. It was possible, there are so many of them here that she wasn't necessary. There was no reason for her to be here at all; not after the damage she caused yesterday.

"Courtney!" A very red person–Tyler–came into the room. Honestly, he seemed to prance rather than walk, but she felt bad for thinking that. God, how could he radiate such positive energy? She was the only one in this cabin, and somehow it felt entirely full of life just moments after he entered. "You must've been exhausted yesterday. I told the others to let you rest since you helped us win, but we need your help again today!"

He pulled the covers off of her—quite naively Courtney thought—as she could've been in very different attire than her everyday look. She felt uncomfortable being rushed back into the role of competitor. The however many hours of sleep she just had weren't enough to reset. The more she thought about it, the more she knew it wasn't discomfort but more so disgust, as if she had tainted whatever lackluster image her peers had of her. She was also disgusted with herself. With all of the problems and diagnoses she had to juggle, she still let trivial Before problems affect how she acted in the Now. What does Gwen, or even Duncan, matter when she didn't even want to exist? Did they really make that much of a difference to her value? Did she make any difference? Would any of her actions ever build up enough worth or value to wash her clean?

"Court?" Tyler's voice cracked. The break was accompanied by his demeanor falling to the serious nature he used with her the first day back. How long had she been laying there since he came in?

She raised up, moved her legs off the side of the bed, and hopped down. Gravity felt stronger than usual on her descent. Even blinking felt like a workout for her eyelids.

"All good, we should get going," Courtney said promptly, very much wanting to avoid his serious demeanor. If she just kept moving, she would eventually feel lighter.

The other campers were all out in the yard already. Their eyes piled onto her.

"You know you have a problem when I'm ready before you," Heather commented while filing her nails.

Duncan rolled his eyes. "Yeah, nice of you to finally join us."

"Hush children, leave the annoying quips to the master," Chris shushed them all. "Seriously, though, when I come out of makeup, the first hour is peak appearance time. Don't make me waste that hour again."

Courtney scrunched her face in annoyance. She hoped no verbal confirmation was necessary, especially as she realized she hadn't brushed her teeth yet today.

"Chef was very sad to see no one appreciated his special sauce at breakfast today, campers." Chris shook his head dramatically while tapping his foot.

"That's not true," Owen exclaimed. "I loved it! It would pair great with an aged cheese from my mom's cellar. Or maybe a jerky. OR-"

"If I have to shorten my dramatic monologues, this kid better be cut down in production too," Chris shot angrily towards a cameraman. "Anyway, MOST of you didn't appreciate it so we have so much leftover. And as someone who cares about the conservation of resources, and letting nothing go to waste, Chef has found another use for this elixir of sorts. CHEF?"

As Chef kicked open the food hall's door, he donned a camo outfit with water guns strapped to each thigh and his back. He stomped to the forefront of the competitors in his ensemble.

"We've loaded these water guns with Chef's leftover sauce for today's challenge. A twist to our beloved hide and seek game. And I gave this some thought, how can I make this more fun for me? I don't really do much, so there's nothing I can take off my plate. BUT I can make it worse for you all. This go around? No home base. No time limit. No invincibility. Instead, the last person standing and their team won't have to face elimination this week. I've said it before, and I'm sure I'll say it many times after this: I am brilliant," Chris explained with fanfare, his chest swelling with pride from his own dreams of torture.

"You bums have TEN minutes to hide," Chef ordered. He grabbed one of the water guns off his leg and pumped it. Chef, for a rare moment, had a smile. "I'd get to running if I were you."

Courtney's legs moved before her mind could catch up. It seemed like everyone had silently decided that splitting up was the best option; obviously, considering if they were together they'd be found and eliminated quickly. Her efforts to make a quick getaway were thwarted when she passed the lavatories. A hand reached out and she was yanked into the building.

"Jesus Christ!" she exclaimed, a hand pressing down on her arm so hard that she could feel it was already bruising.

"We don't have much time." Courtney looked toward the person responsible for her sudden detour: Heather.

"Obviously! I need to get back out there." Courtney made a move towards the door but was pulled back.

"I need your help," Heather shouted. "Ew, admitting that was so beneath me."

Courtney stared blankly at Heather. "Help with what?"

"You and me? We're in this together, till the very end." Heather's grip on Courtney's hand tightened, her almond nails digging slightly into Courtney's skin. "But to get there, I need your help."

"Of course, but what can I do when we're on separate teams?" Courtney hoped that no one saw Heather snatch her into the washroom. Duncan had already caught on to the two of them hanging out and Bridgette implied they were friends. She was treading dangerous territory and worried that consorting with the opposing team during a challenge was crossing the line. Who was she kidding? Having an alliance with an opponent was definitely crossing the line.

"Give me your shoe."

"What? Did you just tell me to give you my shoe?"

"Yes, I already copped Duncan's pocketknife, Katie and Sadie's hair ties, Eva's MP3 player. I need something from you to plant or throw to guide Chef in the right direction!"

"You want me to intentionally lose?" Courtney said in a shocked tone. She was shocked, but not as much as her tone implied. This was Heather, after all.

Heather rolled her eyes. "Yes, my team has taken hit after hit. If we're going to make it together, I'm going to need my team to suck less. Which isn't happening anytime soon, so, instead, I decided to make your team suck more."

Courtney swallowed a laugh. She didn't like what Heather was saying, but it was so unironically bitchy that she couldn't keep it in and started laughing.

"I'm not joking!"

Courtney let out another laugh, calming herself down. "I know you're not, it was just – God, both of our teams actually suck, don't they?" Courtney had to cover her mouth to stifle another laughing fit.

"They suck ass." Heather laughed too. "But you and I don't, and you have more teammates left, so help me out."

"Fine, fine." Courtney exhaled, leaning down to slide off a wedge. She wasn't happy about helping, but the cost of not helping could be worse. And since the parameters of this go-around were how many people were hit instead of not, her team was at a disadvantage anyway. "Don't tell anyone about this."

"Obviously, I'm not going to tell anyone." Heather took the wedge from Courtney a little aggressively. "I'll save this for last in case I get everyone. At least that way you'll be free of Chef's shitshow soup for a bit."

"Gee, thanks," Courtney replied flatly. "I'll leave first." She poked her head out the door and saw Chef with his hands still covering his eyes; it was odd seeing a grown man partake in a child's game of hide-and-seek. Her eyes fell to the water guns strapped to each of his limbs and quickly reminded herself there was no child's play when it came to this show. She made a run for it, heading in the general direction of the cliffside. She figured the further away from Chef's starting point, the higher the likelihood she would be the last one standing. The possibility of that happening, however, was significantly harmed by her shoeless foot. She had an odd waddle-like run now as she sprinted. And knowing this was on international television, she was left with one thought: she did not get paid enough for this.

The campground blurred around her. She felt her hamstrings start to burn and her foot must have been bleeding from the amount of brush she had run over. But she couldn't really feel the pain. It was there but somehow it wasn't deterring her from running. Before she knew it, she had found herself at the top of the cliffside. She stopped quickly, all of her hair flying forward surrounding her in a cool breeze that made her feel weightless. The sky was this pale blue and the sun was high and so big in the sky, she had to squint from the brightness surrounding her. All of the sounds from below were muffled as if they were in another dimension. Or, as if she had finally escaped her Now and managed to get so far ahead of it she could forget it behind her. Now, she could face forward.

She couldn't remember the last time she felt this light. Her ribcage had finally expanded enough to let her take a deep breath. She noticed that she had taken several steps forward, and now she was standing close enough to the edge to look over. The water was below her. She wanted to feel how she felt falling the first week. To feel herself hit the water and hope she didn't come back up. Coming back up would mean facing another After, another therapy session, another concerned look from someone who expected her to not be this insufficient shell of her former self.

She took another step.

She thought back to Before from this morning. How quiet and still it was. She craved that stillness, the silence that came alongside it. She thought further back to how, when she hit that water, she couldn't hear a thing. It was just her. She didn't want to be her. She didn't want to be anyone. She didn't want to be.

She could fall Now. She could hit the water again. She could make sure she didn't come back up this time.

This was a good decision, she thought. Her parents wouldn't have to watch her stay this way. She knew they would suffer, but her existence this way was too taxing on them. They expected her to get better; they believed she would, but she didn't.

Another step.

It would be hard on others. But her only reason for continuing to After had been nothing but an obligation to others for too long. What a useless existence if it's just one of commitment she never asked for. She could choose what she wanted. She just had to take one more step.

She lifted her bloody foot over the edge of the cliff. Her eyes closed as she felt herself lose her balance.

She fell, but not in the direction she thought. She stumbled backward–towards the land–as a large hand gripped her bicep. Where did this hand come from? Her eyes opened to see Tyler's brown ones. When did he get here? He was shouting at her, a mixture of anger and concern in his eyes. Why was he crying? Her eyes darted to behind him where Chef looked maniacal preparing one of his water guns. Without asking herself another question, she shoved Tyler out of the way. Chef's shot came towards her instead. The force from her push alongside the shot was enough to make her stumble.

This time, she fell off the edge in the direction she intended. But she didn't have the peace she had just moments before. Now, she felt she couldn't breathe. Her ribcage once again trapped her lungs and limited her breaths. Her mind couldn't catch up to her surroundings. She was going to die like this. She was going to die with absolutely no say in how she goes. How fitting, was her last thought before she was surrounded by dark, cold water.

More splashes followed hers. Cameras would show Tyler and Trent both diving into the lake moments after Courtney fell. Tyler, fortunately, knew CPR and Trent ran to get help. The competition was cut short with the Gophers having more members untouched, thus they won the challenge. Everyone would think this was just a freak accident. Chef, for the first time, found himself genuinely concerned and remorseful. He apologized to Courtney and brought her a bowl of soup; he assured her this one he put effort into. He did: it was delicious. She had only wished she had the appetite to finish it.

Courtney wanted to make sure the concern stayed between the witnesses present; so, she got cleaned up and returned to her teammates. They each gave her a look of concern, but she just waved them off saying it was an accident and she was completely fine. No one had to know the truth. No one would ever know the truth because she obviously was the one going home tonight. She was certain of it until Bridgette stood up.

"You guys should eliminate me." Bridgette stood confidently in front of her teammates, her resolve being strikingly different from her earlier demeanor.

All of the Bass members stopped in their places, remnants of Chef's gunk still marking almost everyone.

"Bridgette, don't be ridiculous," Courtney scoffed, hoping that no one would take this seriously. Courtney's list of people that didn't entirely "suck ass" (in Heather's words) was very very short and Bridgette was one of the few contestants on it.

"Wait a second. If the lady wants to leave, we should let her leave," Duncan piped in.

Courtney huffed, throwing her rag onto the ground. "We shouldn't let a teammate throw away their chance."

Duncan mimicked her earlier scoff, "Since when did you start having team spirit?"

"About the same time it meant opposing you." How was it possible he was so self-centered? He was responsible for Bridgette getting voted off on Island, she wasn't about to let him take that much control in the game again.

"Real cute, princess. When are you gonna learn that none of us have to listen to you?"

"What is so wrong with me telling Bridgette not to self-eliminate?"

"It's less so the message I'm against and more so the messenger."

He had intruded on her space, or maybe she had intruded on his. But she felt heat in her face. She hated how easily things escalated with him. The two of them opened their mouths at the same time to add likely another unnecessary quip.

"GUYS," Bridgette shouted, stopping both of them. "I know it's ridiculous. But this past week has been really hard without Geoff, and someone has to go home. Might as well be me."

No, it shouldn't "might as well be" her. It should be Courtney. She should leave. But what did leaving mean? It was clear her mental health wasn't magically going to become better with a change in scenery. With medication, a therapist on call, and as supportive as they could be parents, Courtney thought by now she'd feel some change; maybe the depressive filter that had tainted every event in her life since this shit started would magically fall down. She was so frustrated. Why was she getting another opportunity to stay when she kept screwing things up? Why did any of these people want to work with her? Why did any of them want to be her friend?

She must have been wearing her heart on her sleeve as she sifted through the fast-paced questions because Duncan's eyes softened and he took a step back. His reaction annoyed her; he shouldn't be able to read her anymore.

On top of the frustration and confusion, Courtney was angry. She couldn't believe that Brigette cared so much about Geoff she was willing to give up winning. It wasn't logical. "But Geoff will be waiting for you at the end of all this."

"I know, but it's not just him." Bridgette ran her fingers through her roots. "I miss my family. I miss the ocean. I miss so many things that I gave up to come here and the one semblance of home was Geoff. I really did try to make it. But I just don't think the money is worth this time. It's my last summer before college. There's no telling if I'll ever have a break like this again given internships and distance. Money is amazing, but the time I could be spending with the people and things I love is worth more."

Courtney sat on the dock, her legs hanging over the edge. She stared into the water, her reflection staring back at her. The crickets were so loud at night. The boat of losers was long gone, but she couldn't bring herself to leave the dock. She wasn't sure if she pitied Bridgette or was jealous of her. On the one hand, Bridgette gave up weeks of pay and possibly hundreds of thousands of dollars for a guy; but on the other, Bridgette had someone she cared more for than her future gain. …Yeah, Courtney was sure it was pity.

Footsteps joined the crickets and Courtney looked back to see Trent walking towards her with a plate in his hand.

"Hi," Courtney said first. She had felt so far in her time here that everyone approached her, maybe by being the first greeting she would maintain some semblance of control in her interactions with these people.

Trent smiled at her as if her speaking to him was something to be flattered by. She hated that he was like that. He wasn't the only one; several campers had made her feel like they wanted to listen. It was frustrating when she had nothing to say. Without a word, he gestured for her to take the plate and sat down beside her.

"You've been out here a while. You missed us making my brownies, so I brought you some. I remember the first season you ate so much you puked; I couldn't decide if you would still love them or be disgusted by them," Trent laughed. Courtney looked down at the plate of brownies and remembered the events that followed right after she puked: her first kiss with Duncan. That memory alone was enough to stir her stomach, so she thought it was best not to eat the brownies.

"I'm okay, thank you." She set the plate down on her side, but Trent hadn't left enough space between the two of them for her to put it between them.

"Yeah, one time I threw up from a sub sandwich and couldn't eat one for years after," Trent rambled. Courtney just raised her eyebrows in acknowledgment, not sure what else to say to such an odd and repulsive confession. "Well, anyway, I noticed you had been down here a while. Are you okay?"

"Yeah," she wasn't, it never seemed like she was okay at all Now. "I'm just so shocked by Bridgette leaving, I guess."

Trent's eyebrows knitted together, causing creases between the two. It seemed like he didn't expect her to say that. "Katie and Sadie gave us a lengthy rundown of what happened. You tried to stop her?"

"Of course I did, she's making a mistake. I mean, Geoff will be there for her regardless of how long she's here."

"Obviously, she didn't see it that way. And isn't it kinda romantic that she went home for love?"

Courtney rolled her eyes. "I think it's naive to make a hasty decision for a short-term reward of reuniting when staying here longer would've yielded long-term sustained benefits. Think about it, if she wants more time with Geoff, she could've used the extra weeks' pay for several plane tickets to visit him. I don't see what's romantic about needing to be with someone at a moment's notice when it could end up hurting you."

Trent pursed his lips. "I can see where you're coming from, but you can't put a price on moments like this. It'll be the last summer where they both have no responsibilities. They don't know what the future holds, but they do know they want to be together and are doing everything they can to make sure they have that. Isn't it romantic to put your partner first?"

Courtney weighed the sides of that argument, and–of course–decided she was right and Trent was wrong. Without thinking, she threw out what most would consider a harsh rebuttal but to her a logical observation. "Maybe, but isn't that why you and Gwen broke up? You put her ahead of your own needs so much that she began to view herself as a burden to you?"

Trent drew his lips together, his eyes flashing away from her to hide his obvious hurt. "Maybe it's different for Bridgette and Geoff. Maybe they're on the same page."

"What made you sacrifice so much for her?" Courtney ignored the common sense telling her not to press further.

He didn't answer right away, the silence stretched, and with each beat, she felt like she could see another emotion flash across his face. Eventually, he took a deep breath and began, "To me, it was never a burden. I knew I loved her, and I could feel things changing. Like the new season, her getting closer with Duncan, me not being the first person she'd want to tell things to. I thought that if I showed her how much she meant to me, she'd realize that I wanted to be with her always. But, yeah, I guess for me I just drove her away."

"I suppose," she bluntly agreed with him. "Although, I don't think every person would have reacted the way she did."

"How would you have reacted," he quickly asked, a stark difference from the long silence that had prefaced his last response. She stared at him, his eyes were wide in expectance. Why would he care how she would have reacted?

"Well, given how I was then, I probably would have exploited you to get me farther. Now, though, I don't think I would have pushed you away but try to work together so we could each last longer in the game without hurting one another. I don't see why anyone would want to be in a relationship that wasn't symbiotic."

"You make a relationship sound so… sterile." Trent's nose scrunched up as he turned towards the water.

"I mean, aren't they? Especially at this age," She found herself rambling. "Think about it. We get with someone because we want more from them–more time, more affection, more anything really. Duncan and Gwen broke up after she realized he was mostly using her to make me jealous. Heather and Alejandro only worked well when they both were gaining from the relationship. At our age, it makes sense to be selfish. I'm just so confused; why would Bridgette go home for Geoff?"

"I think most relationships that are born from this TV show are bound to be a little warped."

Courtney thought that was the only thing Trent had said so far that she agreed with entirely. Before she could respond, he added, "Besides, how is what Bridgette did for Geoff any different from what you did for Tyler today?"

Shit, what did he mean by that? Was he also up there? Was he one of the screams that was stuck on repeat in her mind?

She drew her eyebrows together, not understanding his point. "Tyler and I aren't together."

"Well, duh Courtney," Trent deadpanned. "But you still cared enough about his performance in today's challenge to get hit before him. Not only that, but you managed to put yourself in serious danger while doing so. If you ask me, that was the most stupid…stupidest…oh whatever, you get my point. It was the dumbest decision made today."`

Fuck, he was up there. Ok, she had to come up with a story. It was an accident, she should stick to what she was telling her teammates. She went up there to get the most distance from Chef, nothing else. Don't make the lie bigger.

"I didn't intend to fall off the cliff when I pushed him out of the way," she admitted, adding just enough qualifiers to make it the honest truth.

"But you did."

No shit, sherlock.

"I did."

"You can't do these things, Courtney. It was one thing the first week, when you jumped off that cliffside we all knew something was off. But it was part of the challenge, it could've been you just establishing dominance in the game. This time… this time it felt like you put yourself in a position where you knew you were going to be hurt."

"That's not true," she cut him off before he could speak whatever words he had prepared next. "I knew that I wouldn't be physically harmed. We all do, thanks to the new contracts." That was a weak argument on her part.

"Harmed by production," Trent added, interrupting her just as she did him. "Harmed by yourself? That's not in writing."

"You honestly think I would hurt myself?" Courtney shot at him, mimicking the sound of disgust her mom had when finding out how severe her depression was. She knew that in these scenarios, throwing back what the person was implying was the best way to shut them up. She remembered all too well the not-so-hidden insinuations her father would make after her diagnosis. Her parents had inadvertently taught her how to hide her illness.

"No!" Trent defended her, just as she thought he would. "But, I couldn't let myself go to sleep tonight without asking if you were trying to… I don't think the others get it. They weren't there to see it. I—well, I was. And for me, it looked a lot like you saw this opening, you know? Like this was the moment you had been waiting for. It's how I looked when I performed my first show. I never knew that look could scare me."

She felt so exposed. She had no clue someone other than Chef and Tyler had been up there; she assumed the screams were just Tyler's. It was unsettling; she didn't want to relive it. Finally, a Before she had no desire for.

"I'm sorry I scared you. I truly didn't mean to fall off the edge then." She hoped he didn't notice her stipulated statements.

"Then why was Tyler yelling at you like that? He seemed so scared, Courtney. He was crying."

"Trent, I can't tell you why Tyler acted that way. All I can tell you is that I'm ok."

"Why were you at the cliffside?"

"To get as far away from Chef as possible."

"Courtney, I'm not dumb. You looked like you were going to step off."

He wasn't going to drop this. She had to change her plan. "I was," she admitted, then quickly adding, "Chef couldn't shoot me with his soup guns if I was in the water. I was hesitating because I didn't know if it was safe to do so with no one knowing I was there. Clearly, my hesitation was well-founded."

Trent's face softened, "Oh, thank god." Courtney thought the same to herself.

"Thank you for checking in on me, and being there when I fell."

"Yeah, of course. I'm so relieved I was there." She expected Trent to leave, but he stayed sitting right next to her. In fact, now that she had conveniently avoided yet another conversation about her questionable behavior, she noticed he was sitting really close to her.

"...Was that all you wanted to talk about?" Please say yes and leave, she thought to herself.

"Oh, pretty much. I mean, there's always more to talk about, wouldn't you agree? Other than you falling, Eva went ballistic again over her MP3 player missing. Chef actually apologized to you which was shocking. And Chris was noticeably absent from the action this time. And—"

"I really don't need a play-by-play," Courtney cut him off.

"Right." He looked awkward. "I heard you were going to be going to a University in Montreal. I'm going to be in that area, too."

"Oh? Doing what?" This was good, this resembled a normal conversation not at all about her life-threatening experiences today.

"What are you two doing?" an accusatory voice rang out behind them. An accusatory, annoying voice that Courtney knew by heart.

The two flinched, Trent more so than Courtney as she had gotten used to her peers making unannounced entrances. Trent jumped up slightly and scooted away from her.

"We're talking, Duncan. Believe it or not, some people are capable of having civil, cohesive conversations that don't involve yelling," she drawled without turning to look at him.

"Whatever," he shot back. "I just came down here to let Elvis here know that Izzy is gonna use your guitar for firewood."

"WHAT!" Trent shot up and started sprinting towards the campgrounds. He left so quickly that he wasn't around to hear Duncan snickering.

Courtney rubbed her temples. "That was made up wasn't it?"

"Do you see a campfire, princess?"

She turned around and saw no fire in sight, just Duncan standing there. "Why must you torment others?"

"Because it's fun, you should try having some again sometime. How long has it been? Four… Five seasons?"

"It is literally impossible for anyone's fun to coincide with interacting with you."

"Yeah, you're right. Yours usually involves jumping off cliffs and being overly protective of the injury-prone teammate of ours."

She swung her head forwards to face the lake again.

"You honestly think I wouldn't ask Tyler about what happened?" He pressed on.

"One, I'm fine. Two, even if I wasn't, it's none of your concern." Jesus, why did everyone always want to talk? What happened to Before when all these idiots talked about was food and hating each other?

"How many times do I have to tell you that us being in an alliance means you are my concern?"

"Gee, you really know how to make a girl feel special. As much as I'd like to rehash why you care about my well-being, I feel like we've talked more than enough about that subject last week."

"Would you rather I write a 30-page contract on why I want you to stay safe and what I expect from you?" She laughed at that. God, she was annoying Before but at least she wasn't like she is now. She forgot how well he could keep up with her in conversation.

"So, I can still make you laugh." She could hear the smirk in his voice.

To avoid further intimacy shared between the two, she stood up choosing to end this conversation. "Yes, add that to skills on your resume. It will be very impressive."

He stepped to the side to block her way. "I'm flattered you assume I have a resume."

"Ah, you're right. Not a chance in hell you have one."

He stepped forward, bending down slightly to invade her personal space. "Hell? Princess, you should add capable of cursing to yours."

"Is there a point to this banter?"

"Yes," Duncan sighed, leaning back once again. Her abrupt end to the interaction brought down his playful aura. "How are you?"

"People have been asking me how I am a lot lately. It's annoying."

"I know, it must be so hard having people care about your well-being."

"I'm fine, Duncan."

"Yeah, Elvis may believe you. You can even convince Tyler of that bullshit. But I don't believe you."

"Even if I wasn't fine, why would you be the person I talk to about this? Trust me, there are very few individuals I'd open up to but you don't come close to making that list."

"Who cares who you tell? It's clear you need to talk, just talk to someone. It doesn't have to be me." Shockingly, he started to turn around. He was leaving her there. He actually was giving her space when she asked for it. She wasn't used to Duncan reading the room, he never seemed capable of understanding her emotional needs before.

"Wait," she called out. Why the fuck would she tell him to wait? Why was her body moving faster than her mind today?

He stopped and turned back to her. His eyes felt like they were trying to hug her. She hated that.

"I'm willing to talk, but I don't want you to freak out or tell anyone else."

"Okay, I think I can do that."

"I don't know if you can, Duncan. This isn't television material, at least Chris-type television."

"Geez, can you just take my word for it? You can strap me down and tape my mouth if you must afterward."

"You'd like that wouldn't you?" she said without thinking. He brought out her worst side.

"Princess, did you just make a dirty joke?"

"Yes, ha. Ha," She laughed sarcastically. "Would you like me to perform a comedy routine or actually tell you how I am? The longer we draw out this opening, the more I regret ever entertaining this conversation."

"Okay, I'm done talking." He threw up three fingers to symbolize the scout's promise. Him not talking? A miracle.

Courtney found herself suddenly very aware of the space she was in. She looked around and saw several glares from camera lenses. "Well, I'm not talking here."

"Oh, yeah, makes sense. Follow me." He grabbed her hand and started making his way back to land.

She pulled her hand back. "I can follow you without needing you to hold my hand."

He winced. "Right." The two of them kept walking, she swatted bugs away and quickly became annoyed by the wildlife. She was trying to focus on anything but the fact she agreed to talk with Duncan of all people.

But she needed to talk. Even though she wouldn't define today as an attempt, she knows her therapist would have. If she was going to do dangerous things, she'd rather the dangerous thing be talking to Duncan about her mental health rather than finding herself at the top of a cliffside. The phrase "between a rock and a hard place" took on an ironically true meaning when she found herself in their cave.

Duncan stopped close to the opening since there wasn't much light to begin with now that it was nightfall. He stared at her, his eyes pleading for her to once be unfiltered around him. She decided to take the step she felt necessary and began to talk. She felt words were inadequate or often ill-fitting for her circumstances, but she managed to let loose the thoughts she had trapped away. And, though she was in almost pitch dark, she felt free of any confines she had thought of as a safety net before.

Author's Note: If you or your loved ones are having suicidal thoughts, please please please reach out to someone. The National Suicide Prevention Lifeline can be reached at (800)-273-8255. If you are interested in supporting prevention efforts, please check out the American Foundation for Suicide Prevention for ways to get involved.

I have drawn a fanart of a moment in this chapter. Please take a look at my tumblr-uncorrelatedideas-to see it. As always, favorite and review!

With much much support,

RCR