𝐂 𝐇 𝐀 𝐏 𝐓 𝐄 𝐑      𝐅 𝐈 𝐕 𝐄
ʙᴇᴀᴄᴏɴ

     THE BASEMENT of Washington Lodge was tense, former friends seated uncomfortably away from each other as the anxiety of the night loomed over them. Ashley and Chris were throwing judgmental glares at Shiloh and Josh, who were sitting on the ground against a wall on the other side of the room.

     Emily and Sam were talking near the map, the ravenette throwing nasty looks toward her ex-boyfriend and Ashley.

     Shiloh sighed, resting her head on Josh's shoulder with a tiredness looming over her. He smiled to himself, laying his head on hers, as he took her hand in his. Her free hand fiddled with his bracelets, a habit she could never seem to kick; her mind was foggy from the exhaustion, from the pain—allowing Chris' words from earlier to seep back into her mind.

     "Why didn't you tell me?" She asked, her voice a low whisper as it reached his ears. "I could've helped..."

     Josh shrugged lightly, his pale eyes locking onto their intertwined hands. He knew what she was talking about, and he was irritated with his blond friend for pointing it out. "I didn't think you could... I don't know. They helped with the depression, but—"

     "Not the hallucinations." She finished with a small nod. She understood—Shiloh had been friends with the Washingtons long before Mike had. She was there when Josh had been hospitalized, when he'd gotten out, when his sisters found out the truth about their strong older brother. "We'll find someone to help, okay? When we get out of here."

     The man nodded with a small smile, placing a gentle kiss to the top of her head. "You help. You keep me grounded."

     "Well," she chuckled softly. "Someone has to."

     Mike took a deep breath from across the basement, arms crossed as he walked over to the duo. The sound of his boots caught their attention, both parties tensing up at his presence before Shiloh broke the silence. "What do you want?"

     The brunette's head hung low, eyes on the concrete floor beneath them. "To apologize... to both of you."

     His sister hummed, her interest peaked and her exhaustion hiding beneath her anger. "Go on."

    Mike brought his brown eyes to hers, first. She deserved an apology from him, slightly more so than Josh; he needed to apologize to the eldest Washington, as well, but Shiloh was his sister—his twin—and he'd failed her three times now.

     "First..." He sighed, eyes glancing between the two, "About last year. Shy, you were right. I should've stopped the prank, and I don't know why I didn't. I'm sorry that my dumbass decision got you," he looked to Josh, "and the girls, hurt. I wish I could take it back. I'm sorry."

     Josh nodded, repulsion still tainting his veins as he looked at his former friend. An apology wouldn't bring his sisters back, it wouldn't undo the damage that had been done, but it was an appreciated start.

     Shiloh looked at her brother expectantly, as if knowing what else he was going to apologize for. "And for the whole Jess thing and, y'know, probably rebreaking my rib... We're cool, bro. But you know things'll never go back to normal, right?"

     "Yeah. I-I know."

     Her gaze turned to Josh, whose eyes swirled with pain and confliction. She knew he'd never be able to forgive or forget what they'd done—but after tonight? Well, the group was still going to have quite a sick bond connecting them... if they made it out, anyways.

     The man looked to her, the corners of his lips flicking upward to create a small smile as he rubbed small circles on the back of her hand with his thumb. Just as he was going to speak, a growl echoed through the basement.

     Everyone fell silent, looking at each other to silently confirm that they'd all heard the same thing. The growl sounded again, and they sprung into action—running from the basement, Mike yelled something about the tunnels that ran underneath the sanitorium. They'd probably gotten inside through those.

     The group ran into the lodge, freezing in place as a sickeningly pale figure that hung from the chandelier came into view. Shiloh recognized the black ink the stained it's shoulder, the haunting butterfly shape contrasting its ghastly complexion; she hoped Josh didn't see it, prayed he didn't see—that he didn't know it was her.

     But when she'd heard his breathing grow heavier, and his grip on her hand tightened, she knew. They both knew. The creature above them was what remained of Hannah Washington.

     This was her first time laying eyes on one of the creatures that had almost lead her to her demise the year prior and her heart sunk at the sight. With its sickly pale skin, disfiguration that lead to inhumanely long limbs, milky white eyes, razor teeth, and skeletal face—it was a creature straight out of a nightmare.

     Shiloh choked back a sob, dedicated to staying alive, as the fact registered in her mind.

     This was Hannah.

     This could've been her.

     Her throat felt tight, eyes welling with tears as her hand trembled in Josh's. She couldn't see through her tears, but she knew his expression probably mirrored her own; she hoped that their intertwined hands would keep him grounded, keep him anchored to reality... but she knew that the sight of what his sister had become would haunt his memory, would become the newest subject of his hallucinations.

     Shiloh was petrified. She was normally able to pull her emotions back, focus her mind on the task at hand, but when the growling of another Wendigo echoed from the staircase, her throat only grew tighter.

     She watched with blurred vision as Hannah and the other Wendigo screeched at one another, flying at each other across the lodge and beginning a bone-chilling battle. Mike and Sam sent each other a nod, whatever plan they'd cooked up being left a mystery to her.

     With every bite, scratch, and scream, Sam and Mike maneuvered through the lodge. Their friends quickly followed in pursuit, but Shiloh couldn't move—even when Josh gently tugged at her hand.

     She was entranced by the creatures before them, obsidian gaze locked mournfully onto the girl she once knew. Fear pulsated through her veins, her adrenaline failing to overpower her senses and help her out of the lodge.

     One by one, their friends exited silently. Only the four of them remained: Josh, Mike, Sam, and Shiloh.

     Mike was the next to near the exit, briefly glancing to his frozen sister. Hannah was occupied, now was his chance—why was he hesitating?

     With a deep breath, he slowly crouched to grab a rock from the ground, one that the stranger had dragged in. Launching it across the lodge, away from his sister, he'd distracted both creatures—running over to Shiloh and Josh, he pulled them toward the door. Sam followed quickly, shattering a lightbulb, and diving through the doorway.

     In less than a second, the Washington Lodge went up in flames. The explosion is what had broken her out of her state, along with Josh; when their eyes landed on the burning building, the two Wendigo souls swirling into the sky like a fiery boomerang, they screamed.

     The pair held each other, tears streaming from their eyes as they screamed for the girl-turned-creature. Their voices held such raw emotion, the mixture bringing tears to their friends eyes as they went to comfort them. Despair, pain, disbelief—and a hint of gratefulness.

     They survived.

❆

     As the paramedics worked quickly around them, the broken friend group sat scattered, the weight of the night—of everyone they'd lost—rested heavily on their shoulders. Shiloh winced as her side throbbed with pain, her re-broken rib a sharp reminder of how awfully the night had gone. She barely noticed the EMT wrapping her chest, her mind only half in the present. The other half drifted to Josh, their kiss, the prank, Hannah.

     As the paramedic finished up with the wrapping, a welcomed voice echoed through the crowds of medics. "Where is she? Shiloh!"

     She perked up, scanning the makeshift triage area they'd set up at the base of the mountain. And there he was—Josh, his forehead stitched, looking exhausted and worn, the shadows under his eyes as dark as ever. But he was alive, and that brought her comfort. She couldn't save Hannah and Beth, but she'd saved him. Who knows what would've happened if she'd left him in the shed?

     He met her gaze and crossed over, weaving through the medics and gear with a relieved smile on his lips. They stared at each other in silence for a moment, eyes glossy and sad smiles etched upon their lips, before his arms wrapped around her, holding her close, careful not to hurt her more. Shiloh buried her face in his shoulder, letting the tension drain from her as relieved tears rushed from their eyes. Her tears soaked into his sleeve, no trace of mascara remaining after the night they had, while his fell gently into her hair; neither minded, both just happy to be alive.

     "It's over," she whispered, voice breaking.

     Josh's grip tightened as he nodded against her hair, his own voice barely steady. "Yeah. It's over."

     Though, they both knew it wasn't completely over. Their relief at survival was tempered by a deep, aching sorrow. Hannah... With the revelation of what she'd become, and now, after bearing witness to her demise, her absence felt even sharper.

     Shiloh's shoulders shook, and Josh sniffled as he leaned back to look at her. Here they were, two broken people falling apart in one another's arms. Both bruised and bloody, both traumatized beyond belief—but when their eyes met, nothing but love pooled within their irises.

     "I'm so sorry, J," she whispered, eyes trailing to the ground. "I should've dug my feet into the ground more, I shouldn't have jumped when that thing lunged at me. I should've tried harder—"

     "Shy, no." He lowered his head to catch her gaze, eyes puffy but determined. "You are not responsible for that. You didn't know about those fucking... things. None of you did."

     The brunette nodded, a small cry escaping her as she embraced him once more. He was warm, despite the snow. He was comfort in human form, a light in the dark events they'd endured. A beacon calling her home.

     Her mind wandered back to their discussion in the basement, causing her to pull back and meet his gaze once more. "Promise me you'll get treatment when we get home. You can't keep going like this, J. It'll kill you."

     Josh's eyes flickered, a spark of vulnerability breaking through the hardened mask he'd worn. He managed a shaky nod. "I promise. But only if you're there. I don't... I don't want to do it alone."

     "You won't." Shiloh's voice was firm, leaving no room for doubt. "Every step of the way. I mean it."

     The heaviness in his gaze lifted just a little, and he nodded, letting out a long, shaky breath.

"Thank you."

     They stood there in a quiet, fragile peace, finding comfort in each other's presence—despite the chaos surrounding them.

❆

ONE MONTH LATER.
MARCH 13TH, 2015

     Shiloh stood outside the facility, leant against her car with a cigarette on her lip as she anxiously tapped her foot against the asphalt. The rays of the afternoon sun were kissing her skin, warming her from the nervous chill that resided in her bones. Why was she nervous? It's not like she'd never seen Josh before.

     Taking a drag from her cigarette, she closed her eyes and leaned her head back. The painful memories that she'd collected over the past year nowhere in sight; they'd been overpowered by colorful, cheerful ones that she had experienced in the past month.

     The traumatizing images still haunted her, terrorizing her dreams, but she'd learned how to cope. Therapy had helped her more now than ever before, helping her focus on the amazing memories rather than the horrid ones.

     Her ears perked, hearing the doors of the facility opening to her left. She stared, a large smile conquering her lips as he stepped into the sun.

     Josh Washington stood near the doors of the facility, looking like he'd just stepped out of a retro film: his black T-shirt fit snugly under a light-wash jean jacket, his old, favorite pair of jeans hugging him in all the right places. A relaxed, almost mischievous smile played at the corners of his lips, his steely blue eyes searching the parking lot—searching for her. The almond tone of his skin seemed to glow in the sunlight, giving him an energetic appearance that he hadn't had in a long time.

      After a few moments, he spotted her, and his heart thundered in his chest, its pace quickening at the mere sight of her. Even from a distance, she was a sight for sore eyes—a beacon of beauty after a month consumed by the emptiness of cream-toned walls and lifeless blue scrubs.

     Shiloh leaned against her car, unable to keep the grin from her face once she saw him. Her outfit was a welcomed familiarity: a black tank top, light-wash skinny jeans that matched his, and her favorite pair of scuffed boots. But there was something new, too. Her arms, once bare, were now decorated with intricate black designs, a sleeve that seemed halfway finished, patterns twining up her skin like vines. She'd changed, maybe grown, but her eyes, still as warm as ever, locked onto his, bringing him right back to the person who'd helped him find his way back to himself.

     It was as if the world slowed, everyone and everything fading into the background. They were just two people, standing there in the sunlight, bridging the distance of the month they'd spent apart.

     Before he could say anything, Shiloh pushed off the car and broke into a run, her hair streaming out behind her, catching the sun in a way that made it look like polished mahogany. The twinkle that he remembered so well was back in her eyes, filling her face with life and joy as she drew closer.

     Josh dropped his backpack to the ground, bracing himself, and with a laugh, she jumped into his arms, legs wrapping around his waist as she pulled him close. He let out a surprised huff, chuckling, wrapping his arms around her tightly, holding her as if he never wanted to let go. He spun her around, a laugh bubbling up from his chest, one he hadn't felt in what seemed like years.

     She pressed her face into his shoulder, her voice muffled but clear as she whispered, "I missed you so much."

     He stopped spinning, but he didn't let go. Instead, he leaned back just enough to look at her, his thumb brushing over her cheek in a gentle, lingering touch. "You have no idea, Shy. I missed that pretty face way more than I thought I would."

     For a moment, they stayed like that, her arms wrapped around his neck, his forehead resting against hers. He felt her heartbeat, fast and warm, mirroring his own as if they'd been apart far longer than a month. He glanced down at her new tattoos, fingers tracing one of the designs along her arm. "Been busy, huh?"

     Shiloh laughed, following his gaze to the sleeve, tracing one of the lines with her fingertip. "I had to pass the time somehow. You weren't around to keep me entertained." She grinned, nudging him playfully.

     He chuckled, lifting her slightly before setting her back on her feet, keeping his hands on her waist. "Well, I hope you didn't enjoy it too much. Cause you're never getting rid of me."

     Her expression softened, her fingers gently tracing the faded scar on his forehead. "Promise?"

     "Promise," he replied, voice warm and steady. They stood there, feeling the weight of all they'd gone through in the time apart—and everything they had ahead of them together.

     After a beat, Shiloh smirked, tugging at his jean jacket. "Now come on. I know a pizza place with our names on it."

     He groaned dramatically, pretending to shudder. "Please. A month of cafeteria food nearly killed me."

     With one last squeeze, she slipped her hand into his, fingers lacing through his as they walked together toward her car, letting the sunlight wash over them both, ready to face whatever came next—together.

❆

     Inside the cozy, dimly lit pizza joint, the sounds of clinking glasses, sizzling pans, and laughter filled the air. The familiar scent of melting cheese and tangy tomato sauce surrounded them, and for the first time in a long time, Josh felt like he could actually breathe.

     He sat across from Shiloh in a red vinyl booth, their half-eaten pizza sitting between them. Her cheeks were flushed from laughter, and she had that easy, carefree smile that he'd missed so much. Every so often, her hand would drift across the table to brush his or playfully nudge his arm. It was like old times, and yet, it was new.

     "So let me get this straight," Josh said, grinning as he leaned forward. "You and Emily actually went bungee jumping? Our Em? Emily Davis. Miss 'Don't mess with my hair, it's custom colored.' That Emily?"

     Shiloh burst out laughing, throwing her head back in joy. "Oh, yeah. She screamed the whole way down, almost fucking lost her voice. I thought she was gonna pussy out last minute, but I think she did it just to prove to herself that she could. I got video evidence too, if you ever need some blackmail."

     Josh laughed, shaking his head in disbelief. "I miss one month, and suddenly everyone's out here jumping off cliffs. Geez, what's next—Chris wrestling alligators?"

     "Oh, don't give him any ideas." Shiloh rolled her eyes, snatching the last slice and handing it to Josh. "But I might've actually gotten him to pick up kickboxing."

     "Oh no," he said, eyes wide as he groaned. "So now he's a threat with and he invested in contacts? I'm fucked."

     They both dissolved into laughter, and for a moment, the rest of the world faded. It was just them, the hum of the restaurant around them and the delicious taste of normalcy. There was something warm and grounding in just being here with her, in the way she could make him feel alive and whole after everything he'd been through.

     Josh leaned back in the booth, his eyes lingering on Shiloh as she recalled a funny story that happened at work, her words a little hazy to him now as his mind drifted elsewhere. He tried to listen, but his thoughts were somewhere else, caught up in the subtle details of her—how her smile reached all the way to her eyes after such a grueling year, how gorgeous she looked with her tattoos, how she absentmindedly fiddled with the bracelet that matched his own, how her laugh could fill a room and make it feel like the sun had just risen.

     He thought about that night on the mountain, about how everything felt so dark and close, and there she was—a light guiding him out. Literally. It hadn't been just that kiss they'd shared in that fleeting, fragile moment; it was the way she'd stood by him, the way she looked at him without fear, without judgment, even when he couldn't look at himself the same way. He'd seen something more in her eyes then, something he was almost afraid to believe in—hope, maybe. Love.

     Suddenly, it hit him, sharp and clear. He wasn't just grateful for her, or even just attracted to her. He was truly in love with her—completely, irreversibly in love with Shiloh Munroe. He wanted to be there for her in all the ways she'd been there for him, to protect her from all the hard things life threw at her, and to hold her close on quiet nights when the world felt too loud.

     Maybe he'd known all along, even before the kiss. It was in the way his heart leapt every time he saw her, the way he found himself looking for her in every crowded room, the way he trusted her, more deeply than he'd trusted anyone in his life. Even at his lowest, when he was unraveling, she never let go. Even in the face of death, she held onto him tighter than ever, refusing to leave his side. She believed in him, believed in something worth saving, and in doing that, she'd saved him in ways he didn't know he needed.

     She was his best friend, his rock, and, somewhere along the way, had become the woman he wanted to share every part of himself with. He wanted to be the one to make her smile, to watch her face light up when she talked about her dreams, to be her shoulder to lean on. He wanted to be everything she needed, and it scared him and thrilled him all at once.

     As he looked at her now, sitting across from him, her hair falling over her shoulder as she spoke, he felt it fully, in a way he'd been too afraid to acknowledge for years. He was in love with her. He loved her, completely, with a tenderness that scared him and thrilled him all at once. He'd been falling for her long before that kiss—they'd been building this slowly, through every shared laugh, every moment they stood side by side, every time she refused to give up on him.

     The restaurant around them was bustling, but all he saw was her. Her laughter rang out, a genuine, uninhibited sound that made something in his chest ache in the best way. She tilted her head back, her eyes crinkling at the corners, and he swore he felt his heart flip. God, she was beautiful. Not just in the way she looked, but in the way she was—open, resilient, full of warmth and fire. In the way she looked at him, her gaze soft and unwavering, as if she saw through all the walls he'd spent years building and loved him anyway.

     As she finished her story, Shiloh's hand found his across the table, fingers gently tracing over his knuckles. "I wish you could've been there," she said, voice soft. "It felt weird doing things without you. But everyone's been asking about you... making sure you're doing okay."

     Josh nodded, a small smile tugging at his lips. "I'm okay. Better than okay, actually." His hand tightened slightly around hers as he looked into her eyes, expression serious. "And that's because of you. If it weren't for you, I don't think I'd have made it through that night, let alone the last month."

     She looked at him, her eyes softening. "Josh..."

     "No, really," he continued, his gaze firm. "You didn't give up on me. Not on that mountain, and not after. You... You've been there for me in a way I didn't even know I needed." He took a deep breath, eyes swirling with emotion. "You believed in me when I didn't believe in myself, and I don't know how I'll ever be able to thank you for that."

     Shiloh's eyes glistened, her smile tender as she squeezed his hand. "J, you don't have to thank me for that. You know I'd do anything for you. You've been there for me just as much."

     A silence settled between them, warm and full of everything left unsaid. Josh felt his heart pounding, the words he wanted to say right there on the tip of his tongue. He hadn't been this nervous in ages, but he knew he couldn't let this moment escape them.

     "Shy," he began, his voice soft, "um... Fuck, this is harder when you don't have a sawblade coming at you." He chuckled, his eyes meeting hers as he spoke. "When I found you the day after you and my sisters fell from that ledge, it almost killed me. Seriously. I was so scared that I'd lost you. And all the bullshit that mountain threw at us last month, after what happened in the shed... It made me realize something." Her eyes widened, her smile small but present as he continued. With a deep breath, he forced the words out, "Shy, I genuinely love you. Like full-blown, hopeless romantic, corny ass romance movie level in love with you. And I know I said it during the prank, but—"

     Shiloh chuckled, her grip on his hand tightening as she interrupted his rambling. "I know, J. I love you too."

     He released a breath he didn't know he was holding, a smile etching onto his lips, "Oh, thank God." He chuckled, "Do I still have to do the whole asking-you-out thing?"

     The brunette shook her head, leaning over the table with a smile. "Josh Washington, my heart's been yours since we were in middle school."

     Josh leant forward, their lips grazing lightly as a cocky smirk decorated his lips. "Well, then, sorry to keep you waiting." His fingers brushed her cheek, the touch light, reverent, as if he was memorizing every detail of this moment.

     Their eyes met, the space between them shrinking to almost nothing, a gentle tension building as the world around them seemed to fade. Shiloh's smile softened, her gaze flickering from his eyes to his lips. Her breath hitched slightly, anticipation sparking like electricity in the air.

     Slowly, he leaned in, his hand cradling her cheek. He let out a soft laugh, his smile widening as he realized the table was keeping them just out of reach of each other.

     With a mischievous glint in his eye, he stood, never breaking eye contact with her as he rounded over to her side. She grinned as he slid into the booth beside her, his arm instinctively wrapping around her shoulders, drawing her closer until there wasn't a single inch left between them.

     "Better?" He chuckled, his face barely an inch from hers again. The restaurant had remained faded, their small booth in the back shielding them from any judgmental eyes.

     "Much better," she whispered, her fingers tracing along the collar of his jean jacket, joyful to be this close to him after such a long month of separation. She tilted her face up, her eyes on his, and the air between them felt thick with anticipation, every breath syncing together.

     Josh didn't waste another second. He leaned in, closing the space between them as their lips met in a kiss that was soft but all-consuming, the kind of kiss that felt like a beginning and a promise all at once. Her hand slipped up to his neck, fingers threading into his hair, and he felt a shiver of warmth course through him as he wrapped his arm tighter around her. The kiss deepened, lingering and tender, as if they were savoring every second, making up for all the time they'd spent beating around the bush.

     When they finally pulled back, just enough to catch their breath, he kept his forehead against hers, his thumb tracing small, comforting circles on her shoulder. She was still so close, their noses brushing, both of them smiling in a way that made each others hearts sour.

     "Worth the wait," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion, and she laughed softly, her hand still resting on his cheek.

     "Definitely worth the wait."