Courtney was the first of the remaining 14 teenagers to make her way back to the campgrounds. Her movements were slow, cautious and she took extra care not to make any unnecessary noise that could give her away to a potential lurking maniacal killer. She manoeuvred her way to the dining hall and scanned its contents from the outside of the building. Once she was confident that she would be safe to enter, she tiptoed her way into the door, locked it and leaned against the door.
Courtney Satella was a strong girl, with a determination stronger than steel and an inner strength that could allow her to combat any of the difficulties her life brought to her. Her life had always been uncontrolled and stressful, with only one constant: study. Her mother would practically force a book in front of her face any time Courtney looked as if she may be slacking off. This had been all the CIT had known for so long that when she had the opportunity to sign up for a reality TV show, she viewed it as an opportunity to learn more about teenagers her age that weren't talking to her professionally. She thought that maybe she could learn the skill of unwinding. Ezekiel was like her in many ways. Courtney felt that perhaps the joint experience of a lack of freedom could be the basis of a friendship between the two. Then, before the first day had even come to an end, his head appeared under Geoff's bunk. Courtney's first experience at setting her own schedules and taking a break from careful study had become the home of a psychopathic killer who would want nothing more than to slice her head clean off from her body like with Ezekiel or elongate her like the horrific sight of Tyler. Throughout this whole terrifying experience, there had been no constants, no place of safety and no knowledge that she and the people around her would be alive by the day's end. Except one. Duncan.
As much as she had to admit that he had gotten on her nerves before the first person was found dead, the person that she had seen rise to the challenge of leading the abandoned campers was not the Duncan she thought she knew. He was rebellious, sure, and he had a temper that could put Courtney's to shame when flared. But what Courtney saw in him was not his faults but his resilience in the face of adversity, his willingness to do anything to keep a group of people alive that Courtney had once thought he could care less about and his veiled kind-hearted nature that poked through his bad boy façade when Katie had returned with no sight of her larger companion. Duncan had been a voice of reason and command that Courtney at first found herself wanting to fight until she realised that she had gone so long without structured living that she struggled to live without it. The long-passed possibility of the 'Total Drama' TV show would have been something that the violinist could cope with; the challenges would happen at set times, the eliminations would follow. The show was very uniform, and Courtney knew that any rules set up would be ones that she would follow to the letter. When the show went to hell, Courtney was at a loss of what to do until Duncan forced his way into a leadership position. No-one really had any reason to complain until more bodies started dropping.
Lindsay, Sadie, Justin. Duncan kept himself focused on keeping everyone else alive. Beth, Tyler. Duncan kept tirelessly adopting strategy after strategy to avoid the killer being able to brute force his way into another kill. Noah. Finally, after being consistently outwitted by the sadistic bastard that held the power of life and death over their weary heads, Duncan snapped, pissed off at the bookworm's snarky comments. Duncan made a judgement call out of pure frustration and it led to him playing a part in continuing the sadistic chain of events that had led the remaining 14 campers to this point. Once Noah's body had been found, regardless of Courtney being pissed off at Duncan, she couldn't deny that somewhere in her heart, she felt for Duncan, knowing what it was like all too well when a person lets their anger take control. However, she knew that the others would never listen to her suggestion to give Duncan another chance as leader. She had watched Duncan fail time and time again and didn't want anyone else have to shoulder the guilt of feeling like their decisions led to the death of another friend. So, Courtney offered to take the reins. Regardless of the hostile, unpredictable environment surrounding her, Courtney persevered. It had been three days since Noah's death and already Courtney had managed to make some progress in keeping the killer at bay. She had set up traps in the woods in order to attempt to keep him in one place, made a map of the island and noted the best places to hide if they were split up due to the terrain surrounding them. Her ideas were not all her own by any means: she had held numerous secret meetings with the delinquent who she felt such pity for and both had worked closely together on plans which could help them keep the remainder of the group safe. Even though it had only been three days, Courtney was hopeful that her proactive nature would result in her being the saviour of the fifteen remaining souls waiting for signs of a rescue.
Bridgette. Courtney barely had time to process it. One of the few people on the island who she would have classed as a friend had been ruthlessly shoved into the fire pit. Courtney had watched it happen. She had simply been too transfixed to move. It was only when Bridgette's haunting, ghoulish cries had come to a close that she had felt the urge to run. And run she did, away from her friend in need, away from her friend who probably wondered why Courtney had just stood there and fucking watched as her skin fell off her in clumps and her once beautiful hair fizzled away as quickly as the hopes of the campers that everything would be alright upon finding that Ezekiel was dead and Chris had left them behind. Courtney was a prideful character who would view crying as beneath her. Someone who would only cry under immense amounts of stress and pain. And whilst Courtney had once thought that that only applied to extreme physical pain, she had only just realised just how deep the emotional scar she had developed was when she sank to the floor, bawling into her hands. Courtney would never allow for someone else to see her like this; she had a reputation to maintain. But being alone provided Courtney all the excuse she needed to vent her frustrations with the world. As the tears trickled down her face, she allowed for the other prominent, growing emotion within her to take control: anger. Courtney shot up, breathing heavily as the tears poured down her face and reached the nearest dining hall table, flipping it over with an almighty crash. She knew that in her situation, the last thing she should be doing is making such needlessly loud noises. But something in Courtney cannot bring herself to care. She manoeuvres around the dining hall, destroying whatever bears the unfortunate sin of being in her warpath when she reaches the kitchen. She realises with a start that the door is being rattled.
Her anger forgotten for the time being, Courtney's face turned as white as a sheet as she froze in place. Knowing her cover was as good as blown already, Courtney made a run for the dining hall door that she had locked not long ago. As she fidgeted with the lock, the kitchen door swung open in an aggressive manner as someone made their way in the direction of Courtney. Courtney's movements grew more frantic, as she was ready to force the door open. However, a familiar voice cut her off. "Princess." Their calm voice bore an undertone of panic, as if they were trying to hide how they really felt. Courtney knew that voice well, she had heard it many times over the last twenty three days. "Duncan?" She questioned, quickly facing herself away from the door to face the criminal in the flesh. Duncan stood across the dining hall from Courtney, signature pocket knife gleaming in the artificial light that the dining hall could provide. His expression was grave with his previous air of forced nonchalance cast aside. Now, he had the chance to take in the person he had found himself closest to over the past twenty or so days. Her clothing exhibiting many small rips, her shaking arms, the state of the previously untouched dining hall and most importantly, the now drying tears on her face were all causes of great concern for Duncan. There were so many thoughts that he wanted to voice to her at that moment. 'Why did Bridgette have to die?', 'Let's go and fucking kill that bastard that's made all of us suffer.' and 'Are you okay?' were among those worming their way to the surface. He instead settled on a simple "What happened?".
Courtney's first instinct was to deny, deny, deny. She couldn't be seen as weak, as emotional, as in pain. She had a group to lead, a group that needed to respect her. With any of the other 13 survivors, Courtney would have pursued this instinct. But with Duncan? Courtney fought her automatic response and instead settled on "I happened." Duncan took Courtney's words to mean the trashed dining hall and nodded his head softly in understanding, flicking his collar as he settled on his next words. "I've seen a lot of crime scenes in my lifetime but none come close to how fucked up this place is. You've been holding out on me, Princess." Duncan observed with his typical shark like grin plastered onto his face. Appreciating Duncan's attempts to avoid the uncomfortable topic of the cause of her tears, Courtney played along with Duncan's jest. "If you don't stop calling me Princess, then I'll stop holding out on you and knock you into next week." Courtney falsely threatened, pounding her fist into her palm with a smirk on her face. Both knew that the threat held no weight; Courtney would be much more saddened if he stopped calling her by that moniker, even if she would never admit it. Courtney waited for the jailbird's typical retort but received none. Curious, she glanced into his expression to notice how vacant he looked, smile all but forgotten as something clearly weighed on his mind. "What's wrong?" she queried, having learnt by now that a vacant expression held more than met the eye with the delinquent. Duncan's flicking of his collar quickened in pace only slightly but even this could not escape Courtney's keen velvety black eyes. Duncan stared right back at Courtney's piercing, scrutinising gaze and sighed, surprised at himself for how open he felt like being. "It almost…" Duncan began, taking a moment to reassure himself that he was doing something he was okay with. "…feels like we shouldn't be smiling in a situation like this. I mean, Bridgette just died." Duncan voiced his thoughts, eyes searching for anything that wasn't Courtney.
Whilst Courtney recognised the pain in her heart that she felt at the mention of the surfer's name and the fact that it was Duncan that had tried to steer the conversation towards a lighter mood, she knew that she needed to focus on there and the now: on the person who she could help. Courtney took a step towards Duncan, which he noticed but refused to comment on. Feeling emboldened, she placed herself right in front of the bad boy as she spoke. "Look at me." Courtney demanded softly, pupils doused in concern as she waited for Duncan to respond. Duncan felt a slight burning in his eyes. He couldn't believe himself. There's no way I'm going to cry over some stupid surfer chick I wasn't even close to. Not in front of Courtney. Not ever. Before Duncan could turn in his attempts to leave, he was stopped completely when he felt Courtney's warm hands grasp his chin gently in an attempt to guide Duncan's gaze in her direction.
Completely shocked by this uncharacteristic display of contact, Duncan felt obliged to remain, forcing the tears away as he watched the lawyer in training. With her audience captivated, Courtney began. "I completely understand how you feel, Duncan. It feels wrong to just move on as if nothing happened. To all but forget about our friends that are no longer with us." Courtney empathised as a lone tear that had not yet been expelled from her system found its home in the black fabric of the sleeve of Duncan's skull and crossbones shirt. "And they should be mourned. In any other place in the world, doing anything but mourn at such a horrific death would make me feel guilty." Courtney continued, trying to explain her view despite the swirling emotions within her making it feel as if it would be impossible to do. Maybe with any other, it would be. "But, at the same time, if we can smile, if we can laugh, we should. Because…Bridgette, Noah, Tyler, everyone, they would want us to smile. To move forward in the face of adversity. They'd want us to live our lives for them, to do everything we want to do with our lives once we escape. And I also know that without any moments of happiness, anything to tear me away from our sickening reality, that I wouldn't have been able to keep my head above the water for as long as I have." Courtney countered Duncan's doubts with her own argument, the convict hanging onto each of her words as he absorbed them. "You've…you've really helped me with that, Duncan. You've really helped me to realise that not everything is about following the rules to the letter and that it's okay to have fun sometimes. You've kept me sane in this insane situation. So…thank you." Courtney nervously admitted, wrapping her arms around Duncan's torso in her attempt at a comforting hug. Time almost seemed to freeze for Duncan. Courtney's words seemed as if they had been perfectly crafted to attack the growing conflict in his heart and the warmth that flowed through Duncan's chest was amplified when Courtney had embraced him. Seeing Courtney's tear-stained face was the final piece of the puzzle needed for Duncan to be able to allow a singular tear to make a treacherous, never before attempted journey down his face as he locked Courtney in an embrace of his own. The duo stood like that for a long time.
For each of them, only the other existed for that period where both had been able to close their eyes and relax, to forget about their situation as the slaughtered would want. When each recognised that the others heartbeat had returned to a reasonable pace, they slowly released each other, though both looked somewhat regretful that they couldn't retain their embrace for longer. Each made a promise that day. Courtney promised herself that she wouldn't let anyone else die to the twisted murderer roaming the island. Duncan promised himself that he wouldn't shed another tear. Both should have known that in a world such as this, promises are made to be broken.
ALIVE: Owen, Geoff, Courtney, Duncan.
?: Man in the Woods, Gwen, Cody, Leshawna, Eva, Izzy, Katie, Heather, Harold, Trent, DJ.
DEAD: Ezekiel, Lindsay, Sadie, Justin, Beth, Tyler, Noah, Bridgette.