Requirements: Can fit basically anyone outcome except must include Dylan losing his hand (Abi is obviously dead, for ouchies and character development, Nick could be alive or dead) but mostly part of my only survivor Dylan/Kaitlyn head-cannon

-Lenivy residence-Duncan

He didn't recognize the number on his phone. It could be one of his new clients, but why were they not calling his business phone? He answered it anyway.
A hospital, an hour away from North Kill. He hadn't been worried when Dylan hadn't called when he was back home. He'd go days without calling, only the occasional call to check in on Izzy that wasn't unusual.

But he had promised to call Izzy when he got home. That wasn't like him. He should had known.

He felt like he had missed his morning coffee, although he already had several cups.

Mel, his girlfriend was in the kitchen, preparing her morning smoothie. She didn't drink caffeine or eat any dairy or meat products. But her diet had to change, now that she was carrying precious cargo.

"Tired already? I could make you one. It will give you enough energy but without the crash."

"No thanks."

You are missing out..." She could already sense something was wrong.

"Dylan's in the hospital. There's been an accident..they didn't say how serious..."

"Go. Be with him. I can hold down the fort here."

"Are you sure? What about..."

"I'll take her to work with me."

At the ER reception, he fumbled out the explanation. Usually his confidence never wavered and he could use his charm.

"My son was brought in this morning. He was a counselor at Hackett's Quarry summer camp. I've been told there was an accident..."

"Patient's name."

"Dylan Lenivy."

"Date of birth."

"July nineteenth, o-three."

"I'll need your ID and proof of insurance."

"My what?"

"ID and insurance please."

"My son is hurt and could be dying fot all I know an you want to see my identification?"

"Mr. Lenivy, I need to ask you to calm down."

"Calm down? I just drove three hours to get here! I don't even know if he's alive. I want to see my son."

"I understand that, sir. And I'm still going to have to ask you for identification. For security reasons. If his mother..."

"Dylan's mother's not in the picture."

"Irregardless..."

"That's not even a word. Damn it.."

The nurse picked up the phone. "I'm going to have to call security."

"Call security? Are you kidding me? My son is in there! I need to see my son and you're going to call security?"

"I'm going to have to ask you to calm down."

"Don't tell people to calm down. Especially to a parent who's child is in the emergency room. I'm telling you, I need to see my son."

"And I'm telling you, Mr Lenivy, you need to start practicing calm right now. For your son's sake. Because you're going to need it."

It would be several more hours, before he would get to see him. He had just gotten out of surgery and moved to the ICU.

"what exactly happened? I wasn't told much. Just that there was an accident."

An animal attack or so it appeared. They had to take more off wrist "We couldn't reattach the hand.

Bear attacks are rare up here and when they do happen, hardly have an outcome like this. Your son is extremly lucky. But he's not out of the woods just yet. For now, he's in a medical induced coma, to fight the infection."

"So he could die."

"The first forty-eight hours will be critical."

He sees the police officer outside the door talking to another cop. The nurse must see his confusion.

"It's just a formality. He's not under arrest. They're going to want to ask some questions."

"They don't think it was a bear. They think someone did this to him?" Why else would they be here? He wasn't born yesterday. "The other counselors..."

"No word on them yet. They could've been brought to the station for questioning. When he was found, he wasn't with anyone else, just the Ka girl."

When he enters the room and looks at the prone figure on the bed, it's like the air is immediately.
It didn't even look like him. Hooked up to wires and machines.

"When he wakes up, will he remember anything?"

"It's like waking up from anesthesia. He most likely will be confused and won't remember everything right away. Some details might be jumbled. He might remember things that didn't happen or his mind might create false memories to fill in the blanks."

=========================
Dylan

I haven't seen the sky, the real sky in what felt like ages. They had me so full of morphine all I could do was stare out the window, trying to block out the chemical smells and antiseptic. The bed was soft but not quite. Then I think anything would be better, even the beds at camp with the lumpy loose springs.
Somehow it made everything worse. How could I think of ever wanting to be back there again?

A nurse came in "Oh good. Look who's awake! There's someone here to see you."

My heart sank when I saw that it was just my dad. He was sitting in a chair to the right of my bed.

"How are you feeling?"

"Tired."

My throat felt dry and scratchy. Dozen of questions raced through my mind. Where's Kaitlyn and Ryan. The others? All I could ask was,

"Can I...get a drink of water?"

The nurse poured a cup but Duncan took it from her.

"Here. I'll take that." I didn't protest and let him hold it to my mouth.

"Easy. Just take it easy."

He set it aside as I sank back against the pillows.

"Where...where are the others?"

"They'll be fine. They're only allowing family."

That's good. I didn't feel like being crowded right now. At least they were ok. If they were only allowing family, I couldn't help but think of my sister. What have they told her? Why wasn't she with him?

"Where's Izzy?"

"She's with Mel at the studio." The yoga studio. "We didn't tell her anything yet."

"The doctor will be in to see you shortly. " said the nurse.

As she left, his father let out a deep breath. "Jesus. What the hell happened Dylan?"

"There was...it was a bear..."

"Do you remember anything else? You woke up a few times."

"I don't remember."

They were interrupted by a knock and an Indian woman in a lab coat entered.

"How are we doing today? Are you in a lot of pain?"

"Yes." I grit trough my teeth. The drugs they had me on were finally wearing off. It was becoming unbearable. A throbbing searing pain. Fuck. My eyes began to water. I didn't want it to seem like I was crying, but the tears leaked out of the corners of my eyes.

"This will control the pain ok?" She placed a remote in my right hand. I cranked the dial all the way up.

It didn't seem to be working fast enough. "Any chance I can get some of the good stuff?"

"No good stuff. Not until after dinner."

I gave an exasperated sigh. What to do until then?

There was no tv in my room. Just empty brackets where it should have hung. I wonder if that's deliberate. If they didn't want me to see what the news was saying. But why? If the other's were ok?

"Are you having any feeling?" Yes. All sorts of feelings. Oh she means my...

"It..feels like it's not...there?" Besides the throbbing pain that was still felt like a jolt of electricity where my hand should be.

"That's not unusual. We had to take more off the wrist, due to infection. You're very lucky."

"It's a good thing I'm Arm-adectroious. But if I write with my right hand , my writing looks like it did in Kindergarten."

The doctor didn't look amused with his jokes. "Can you tell me what happened?"

He had to be careful. Watch his words now.

"We were...we were attacked by something. I don't know...I don't know what it was..." He felt the lie, sharp on his tongue in sync with the sharp pain in his stump. He was never a good lair. He wouldn't be able to bluff his way through this one with his charming infectious humor. Judging by the looks the doctor was giving him as if she didn't believe him. Or was it just paranoia. He had no reason to be guilty so he shouldn't feel guilty. Give them no reason to suspect you of anything. I didn't do anything wrong. But why did I feel so wrong?

"A moment ago he said it was a bear. He says he doesn't remember."

He does. He does remember! Everything. Being chased all night by creatures that should only belong in nightmares.

The image of Nick exploding into a bloody mess, tearing Abi's head off, it hitting the floor with a sicking thump, coating him in warm sticky blood. A gun shot. Kaylee Hackett dead, floating in the pool. That's not the order in which things happened but he remembers it.
The doctor's voice sounds far away.

"Could be...post traumatic amnesia. It's often the result with head injuries or from witnessing a traumatic event. I can consult with psychology to see if there might be some other underlining issue."

"No. No, that won't be necessary. He has a therapist."

Why would he need a therapist? Dylan wanted to know. He had woken up a few times. Had he blabbed something while he still out of it because of the drugs?

"Can I take him home?"

"We want to keep him for a few more days to make sure." The doctor and his father step away for a moment. Sure of what?

"I don't think he understands the implications. what challenges he might face when it comes to loosing a limb. When that sinks in he's going to need a good support system."

"I don't believe your son is telling the whole truth. "

"You think someone did this to him?"

"It is evident yes. He might be afraid to tell us who hurt him. Or it could just be one big understanding. A self amputation gone wrong..seems unlikely but..
I drown the words out. Is that why they're outside the door? They think someone will come back and...Ryan. He must not have told them. I want to tell them

I did it. It was me.

It wasn't him. It wasn't...I want to get up and shout it. But when I go to sit up, I am dizzy. I'm completely exhausted. I try to stay awake but even the crappy drugs are enough to pull me into sleep.

When I wake, the lights are off. There's the glow from the medical equipment and the light from the hallway from the half open door.
A tray full of food laid untouched on a tray table.
I looked at the clock it was past 7pm. I had slept past dinner. The food probably had sat there for three hours. As hungry as I was, it wasn't worth risking food poisoning.

My dad was still in the chair next to my bed, sleeping. I didn't want to wake him up because I didn't want to talk to him right now. So
I went to press the call button. I wondered why I couldn't reach it. "Damn thing. Where is it?" After a few seconds and looking down at my left hand, I remembered. It wasn't there.

I felt a sadness. But not for the reason you would think.

I didn't feel pain. It felt numb. I wondered if they had given me the 'good stuff' while I was out.

My stomach started to rumble. Maybe loud enough for my nurse to hear as she entered the room. She peered at me through her half rimmed spectacles.

"I'm sort of hungry. Can I get something to eat?" When was the last time I ate? The bonfire. Watermelon. Which I had vomited up at the sight of Abi's body. My stomach turned. Maybe eating wasn't a good idea.

"No nuts. He as a peanut allergy. " Duncan added. The noise must've woken him up.

"Kitchens closed. " She sounded like she was annoyed for a moment. "But for you...I can see what I can find. No trying to get up on your own. You haven't been on your feet for awhile. We don't want you falling. The alarm will go off if you try to get up. You'll have five or six residence rushing in here. Just use the page button if you need anything else."

"Noted."

So I couldn't sneak out of here even if I wanted to. That would make me look even more guilty wouldn't it? And certainly not with the cop outside the door. I couldn't tell if it was Sheriff Hackett.

She came back with a knock off Sprite, a sub sandwich, and cheese crackers. "Usually this is only for the nurses."
His appetite was suddenly back. Well, if this was his last meal before they carted him off to jail, he supposed it wasn't too bad. He was still a little weary. Why wasn't he being arrested or bombarded with questions yet? He wasn't handcuffed or strapped to the bed. Not that they would do that to someone with one hand would they?

He opened the packaging with his teeth while holding it with one hand.

It had almost been a week since he'd arrived at the hospital. They told him the extent of his injury, as if it hadn't been obvious that his arm had looked shorter)that they had to take more off, about six inches, because of the infection. He had been put into a medical induced coma so that his body could fight it. Since he wasn't in any serious pain, they started lowering the dosage of his pain meds but he still felt the days blurring into one another. Faintly remembering the details, though he remembers his father and sister visiting.

When he was told she was coming, he hid his left arm under the blankets, so she wouldn't be frightened. It would be scary to see her big brother hurt like this.

"Does it hurt?" She asked.

"Yes. "

"But the doctor's giving him medicine for it that makes him very tired. " His father stepped in. "He might not answer right away, ok?"

Being a typical eight year old, she asked if it would grow back. "Is it going to grow back?"

That was...that was actually a good question. If he was still infected by the werewolf monster virus, would it have?

"No." Dylan stared past her at his father's girlfriend. All Prada, and bleached blonde hair and yoga pants was wearing a baggy pants suit which was out of the norm for her.

"I'm gonna...go get some coffee. Anyone want coffee?" Mel beelines out of the room. He couldn't believe his father had brought her. But he shouldn't be mad. He guessed she was his emotional support animal or something. He shouldn't be too harsh on her. Izzy seemed to like her. But his dad did thrust this situation on her. She was trying to process the news, and hide her own torn emotions. Which was odd because he'd only met her a few times and they weren't close. But she was to Izzy.

"Sorry about the bear eating your hand." Sweet Izzy. So that's what they told her. They hadn't told her about Abi. Abi, her favorite counselor at camp. His friend.

After this is all over, after we go home, promise we'll be best friends forever? He could almost hear her voice. The weight of her head on his shoulder around the bonfire, her hand reaching for his left hand, both of them stretched out on the picnic table. The stars shining above them, no full moon.

That's how he wants to remember her. Whole.

Her laugh, her freckled cheeks, that reminded him of his sister. Thought of her as a sister in the short amount of time he had come to know her in those short two months.

Suddenly he realizes, like he occasionally forgets he no longer has a left hand, that she's no longer here. That he would never get to make that promise. His entire friend group, everyone from the night could be dead. All he had left were possibly his sister, and Aliyah (he always called her Ali) his childhood friend he had grown up with, was all he had left. She hadn't yet come to see him, if it was only family allowed it would make sense. Or she could have visited him when he was unconscious. That wouldn't explain why he hadn't heard from her.

He had to think of something, anything else.

(If you used the decoy to trap Caleb in the freezer)

"I'm sorry about Bon Bon. He made a noble sacrifice, trapping the big bad monster in the freezer."

"I'm not. He saved your friend Kaitlyn. Besides I'm way too old for stuffed animals."

The nurse came in to check on him and change his bandages while his dad and sister left the room.

"It's healing up nicely...if we keep an eye on it, we'll have no problems."

He didn't want to look at it. Not because he was embarrassed by it, it was a reminder of...

"Are you ok darlin? How are you feelin? Are you in any pain?"

"oh uh no. It just kind of tingles. Like my fingers are asleep?" He looks around her at the door. The cop is still there. "Pins and needles mostly."

"Phantom pains. Patients usually find that it becomes less frequent in about six to twelve months or so."

He could possibly have a full year of this? And if that wasn't enough, he'll always feel pain that wasn't there or will be in pain for the rest of his existence.

I don't think he understands the implications.

At least he was alive.

He felt more physical symptoms. It's funny how the mind plays tricks, but nerves play a huge part, and how you occasionally forget that you lost an actual part of you.

It was the phantom itching which was annoying. He still felt his fingers and felt like he could control them. If tried hard enough.

After psychical therapy, (that including practicing doing things with one hand, like dressing himself, climbing fake stairs) and having to regularly deal with bandage changes and wrapping, the fresh wound being somewhat sensitive but the area where the skin graft was wasn't, he had to apply deep pressure to alleviate the phantom itching in attempt to train his brain to accept this change.

As soon as possible he wanted to become independent and do things for himself. He felt like a prisoner with the cop outside. He was talking to another officer. Something about 'murder'

Who was murdered, beside Kaylee and Chris? They could easily prove it was self defense... Do you really think the cops are going to care?

Still his heart thudded in his chest. He tried willing it to go down, so it wouldn't set off the heart monitor.

"Am I under arrest or something?"

"What? No. It's just for your protection." His father had said the exact same words. They hadn't handcuffed him so he guessed that was a no. But would they really handcuff a person with one hand? There was no need to detain him. Even if he wanted to leave, how far would he get? He was still unsteady on his feet, even after psychical therapy, which had left him exhausted.

And he had no money, no clothes, (they probably took those and the clothes from the van for evidence. They would find Nick and Abi's blood on the clothes from that night, and his own. No one else's.

Nick.

He wouldn't know what to say to him but hoped he was ok. He wouldn't be if they had already told him.

No phone either. The cops probably took that too. It's not like he could catch an Uber. No one to call. He regretted not getting Ryan's number. If he had pressed harder...

Did they think he was just an innocent victim or pretending that he was? He wanted to know what they knew. He doubt that they would tell him anything but he wanted to give it a shot.

"Can I answer their questions? I think I'm ready to."

"Not until the doctor's cleared you. They tried that once before. They're going to have to get through me."

Besides recalling asking about Ryan, his mind drew a blank. What else had he said to the cops? Since he couldn't remember, how was he to get his story straight so that they wouldn't think he was lying? Whatever he had told them had them on edge. Like he was fragile or that he was going to break at any moment. Like he was crazy. Did he tell them the truth, about the werewolves in his drug filled state? God, is that why they looked at him like that, as if they were trying not to walk on eggshells around him?

He still hadn't heard anything about his friends. If they were even alive...

It kept him from getting a decent night sleep. Not like there was any sleeping in a hospital. That's why they make these bed so damn uncomfortable.

"No. I want to talk to them. I want to take a shower first."

"You'll have a bath. You're still a fall risk. "

Knowing that there was no arguing with her, he gave a sigh and pulled back the sheets. "I'll tell your family there's a motel up the road." It made him smirk at the thought of Duncan, (who stayed at extravagant hotels on business) having to stay at some shitty motel.

"I can get a lawyer. It will set us back five."

"As in five grand?"

"If we loose the house, it won't matter." He was already texting away on his phone.

"It's mom's house."

Duncan, looked up from his phone and over his Clark Kent reading glasses, slipping his phone into his pocket.

"You can stay with us for awhile. Mel even went to great lengths to set up a room for you...She gave up her workout room." And there's the real Duncan back. Gaslighting and guilt tripping to get his way when the nice guy act didn't work, while still pretending to be the nice guy.

"I said no."

The nurse told him enough, that he was upsetting the patient. If he didn't stop, she was going to have to ask him to leave.

"I'll go. But the offer still stands." Acting like he was some big shot lawyer and like he wasn't just an accounting lawyer who used to be a high school math teacher and gym coach. "You're going to have to let go of mom sometime."

The words stung like a sudden paper cut. No. Like a scab being ripped off, along with the band-aid. "Please leave."

"Duncan..." Mel pulled on his sleeve. She had just appeared with Izzy in tow.

"Why does daddy look angry?"

"Sir, he clearly wants you to leave." The nurse warned again.

"It's ok. Can you give us a moment?"

"Come on, Isabel." Mel led her out of the room. When did she start calling her that?

Izzy hates being called that. It was always Izzy or Sport (because of her love of sports (baseball like Nick. She went on about it all summer that she would try out for fall Softball practice this year) and his father was glad that at least someone did and he had someone to play catch with. ) or Scout, his father's dreaded nickname for her. It was because of that book his father liked, To Kill a Mockingbird. It had been his mother's too.

"What I said, after your mom's funeral, I was drunk. I shouldn't have said those things. I should have never laid my hands on you. I know there was no excuse."

"The answer's still no."

"You're stubborn just like she was."

"Is that why you hate me so much?"

"I don't hate..."

"Not just because I'm...the way I am."

"Just think it over ok?" He turns to leave.

"Why did you even come here?"

"You're still my son. I almost lost you. Even though you're...we have our disagreements about certain things. "

"You can say queer, you know. It's not something you can catch."

"Damn it, Dylan." He immediately apologized for raising his voice. "Sorry. I'm trying alright? Just let me try? That's all I'm asking." Giving a sigh, he reached into his other pocket. "Here's the number for the motel." He tried to hand him one of his business cards with the phone number on the back. When Dylan didn't take it, he set it by his bedside table instead.

When he left the room, Dylan rolled over onto his side, mindful of the IV in his arm, he grabbed it off the stand.

Harbinger Motel.

555-026-651

He crumpled it up. Thought for a moment. If he wanted to check in and talk to Izzy...he uncrumpled it and set it in the drawer, next to the bible.

After his bath, clean of sweat, no longer feeling dirty, at the expense of his dignity, at least he felt like he could finally relax. He was about to get some answers. He opened the drawer back up, staring at the Harbinger Motel's phone number. It was where Sheriff Hackett had told Laura and Max to go, unfortunately not listening to his advice, was the catalyst, setting into motion those events of that night . If it hadn't been for that one decision...

Could that be where the other's could be staying? If they're not holding them in a jail cell somewhere. Or had Sheriff Hackett decided to blame it all on them? Frame them? This whole thing was a result of a failed over up.

He could give it a try. He managed to get the phone off the wall, to dial. He listed off the names to the receptionist. "I'm sorry. We don't have anyone checked in with those names. Even if we did, I couldn't tell you." There was a sound of a phone slamming.

"Ok. Rude."

"Hope you don't mind me sending them away. It looked like you could use a little reprieve."

He nearly dropped the phone as the nurse popped her head in, nearing startling him.

"Ye..yeah. Thank you." He gave a yawn. The phone started making a busy signal tone. The nurse hung it up. "Can..can I put off the questioning for later?"

"Thought you'd come around to some good sense. Why don't you try and get some rest? Rest is the key to recovery."

"I've tried...It's not like it's easy to come by in a place like this."

"I can see if I can get the doctor to prescribe something that will help. And for the pain. I'll be right back ok?"

It was chasing him. He had to get away. As he crawled along the ground, he felt the vice like grip around his ankle. He didn't wait to let it sink it's teeth in. When he kicked at it, it gave out a human like grunt.

"Damn...Pulled out his IV. "

He didn't register the words, only that they were going to sedate him. He couldn't let them. Who knew what the hunters were going to do to him.
He had to get away. He felt a sharp sting in his neck, his whole body going numb and then limp. He saw a small puddle of blood, illuminated but the florescent lights.

The sun was shining in his face when he woke. He realized someone was trying to rouse him.

"Good morning star-shine. Nurse Freda says hello."

"I don't know, is it?" He had a pounding headache. Like a hangover. He doesn't remember falling asleep. Just someone screaming very loud.

"It will be if you don't try running off again."

So it hadn't been just a dream?

"I had a dream something was chasing me."

"That could be a side effect of the medication." She proceeded to take his blood pressure.

So he had a bad trip and hallucinated last night. Or...he better not have PTSD or something. One more thing from the Hackett's he did not need. Hallucinating werewolves or being chased by hunters when they were not there. "I heard...I thought I heard someone screaming."

"No one was screaming, darlin. That was you."

He felt himself flush with embarrassment.

One of the cops knocked and entered the room. She was blonde, not skinny, overweight, not tall either but rather nurse is already on guard but Dylan says it's ok.

She tells him her name is Annie, like they were familiar with one another. She asks if he remembers her. He shakes his head.

"No? That's ok."

She seems nice. Like she actually cares. Don't be fooled by her sweet voice, Dylan. Cops are not always your friend. With gloved hands, she takes out a journal from an evidence bag.

"Is this what you saw?"

A black shadowy figure with pointed ears and teeth. Even though it's a drawing, it's still intimidating.

"That's...that's Abi's."

"Were you close to Abi?"

"I saw it..." He swallowed as his vocal cords seem to disobey. He forced himself to squeeze out the words "what it did to her. I saw it...tear her apart." Hot tears trail down his face.

"I'll give you a minute. Try to get some rest."