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The truth was, while Dylan expected the group of counselors-turned-werewolf-slayers to never speak again after that night, Emma created a group chat a few days after the young adults were acquitted of any charges and sent on their separate ways.
“Well I guess SOMEONE had to be brave enough to make a group chat. Pussies!” Emma accompanied her text message with a selfie of her sticking her tongue out. She looked like someone who didn’t suffer from night terrors and panic attacks, but Dylan knew she probably experienced them all the same.
There were six unknown numbers added to the group chat and two known ones - Kaitlyn(buttface) and Ryan:).
Kaitlyn and Dylan exchanged numbers while Mr. H was searching for the van keys, despite Kaitlyn’s better judgment.
“Just don’t send me any weird porn links or spam or whatever.” Kaitlyn rolled her eyes as she entered her number into Dylan’s phone.
“Kaitlyn, I am appalled at the behavior you expect from me. I just want to stay in contact with someone I admire and respect.” Dylan protested, appearing wounded from Kaitlyn’s allegations. Not a full five seconds later did he send her an illustration of Moth Man and BigFoot in a.. Sensual and compromising position.
“So you just have this shit ready to send at the drop of a hat?!”
The other contact staring back at him took a lot more courage to finally get.
While waiting for first responders to finally arrive, Ryan walked over to the bench Dylan was sitting on. Dylan, while relieved to see everyone alive and in one piece, finally had the pain and exhaustion of getting his fucking left hand sawed off hit him. No one else seemed to lose any limbs. Good for them.
“Hey.”
Dylan dragged his eyes away from the space where his left hand once was to meet Ryan’s gaze. “Hi.”
“Can I sit with you?”
“Well, I smell like absolute ass, but then again so do you. So, yes, be my guest.” Dylan grandly gestured to the bench with both hands before quickly dropping his arms. That’s… going to take getting used to.
Ryan gave a small smile before taking a seat slightly-too-close-but-in-a-good-way next to Dylan.
“I’m really sorry about… your…” Ryan’s low, monotone voice drifted off as he realized that losing a limb isn’t really something you can give a casual condolence to.
“Oh, this old thing? It’s actually nice to finally get rid of those stubborn two pounds!” Dylan gestured towards his stump, speaking like a middle-aged woman who was happy to meet her weight loss goal.
Ryan gave a small chuckle before shaking his head. On one hand, it was a good sign that Dylan’s humor managed to stay intact after everything that happened to the counselors, but on the other, Ryan knew this was just part of Dylan’s way to avoid confronting how he truly felt.
“Dylan, you know I am in awe of your quick wit,” Dylan interrupted Ryan’s monotone with a small snort, “but I’m serious. I’m sorry. I’m sorry that happened, that I’m the one that did that to you.”
Dylan’s smirk faltered and changed to a small smile. “Well, to be fair, I did ask you to. We weren’t really thinking the most logically at the time.” Ryan nodded to this. “But it was the right thing to do, I guess. I was afraid of what the spreading black shit from the bite would do to me. Which reminds me, I think I’m due for a tetanus shot.”
Ryan unexpectedly laughed at this, making Dylan’s heart race. Making Ryan laugh out loud was a difficult task - he would know, he’s been trying to do it all summer - but the few times he was able to hear that magical sound made him fall deeper into his crush for the guy.
“So… I know we kinda just survived one of the most horrific events any of us will ever have the displeasure to endure…” Dylan trailed off expectantly.
“...yeah?”
“...but I still haven’t gotten your number and I think I may have to stop asking after the fifth time. Desperate isn’t a good look on me.” Dylan shrugged matter-of-factly while Ryan shook his head.
“Dylan, get your ass up, the ambulance is here!” Kaitlyn called out towards the two boys. “You really need to get your… y’know… arm checked out.”
Ryan stood, eager to get Dylan some medical attention. Kaitlyn did what she could at the pool house, but his bandages looked grimy and soaked through, and Ryan was afraid he may succumb to infection.
Dylan hesitated for a moment before shaking his head. “Ryan, listen,” he started, sounding serious enough that Ryan was afraid of what his next words might be.
Although ever so coy and mysterious, the truth was that he wanted to talk to Dylan tomorrow, and the next day, and probably the day after that. He wasn’t ready to say goodbye. But Dylan was right - he had asked for Ryan’s number several times now, and Ryan never took his request seriously. He thought Dylan was just jokingly flirting with him to make him laugh. Looking back, maybe his crush on Ryan was obvious, and he was just too nervous to take it at face value.
Ryan swallowed, his mouth dry, as he looked down at Dylan still sitting on the bench. “Y-yeah?”
Dylan sighed before meeting Ryan’s worried gaze. “I need you to lend me a hand,” he deadpanned, lifting his right hand for Ryan to help him up.
Ryan’s laugh turned into a groan as he helped Dylan up, Dylan smiling a toothy grin all the while.
“Give me your phone, you idiot.”
“I kinda like when you’re mean to me.” Dylan flirted as he handed over his phone. Ryan quickly typed in his number and named the contact “Ryan:)”, making Dylan’s knees slightly weak at the smiley. That’s just fucking adorable coming from someone like the brooding, loner Ryan.
Dylan and Ryan started walking towards the front of the lodge to meet with the first responders, while Dylan warned Ryan of the weird-cryptid-porn Kaitlyn might send to him.
Kaitlyn(buttface): Okay, I got Jacob’s Ladder and Dildo’s numbers. Everyone respond with your name. This is Kaitlyn.
Kaitlyn was the first to respond, and Dylan smiled at the nickname.
“this is abi :)”
Nick responded with a selfie of him giving a thumbs up.
Laura responded with a selfie of her and Max, alongside a text mentioning which number belonged to Max.
Ryan:): Ryan here.
Dylan sent a selfie of him holding up his stump with the text “Okay you can’t tell but I’m doing a peace sign”.
Emma: Dylan with the self-deprecation! I love that for you
Dylan: sorry, take me while to type, one hand :/
Ryan:): Dylan, I can show you how to do talk-to-text on a video call, if you want.
Dylan smiled. Ryan wanted to call him.
Abi: aw ryan that is so sweet :)
Jacob: who is this other Jacob and why does he have a ladder???
Nick: Jacob only watches porn and jackass confirmed.
Jacob: seeing someone getting ball trauma is always funny???
Kaitlyn: Dorks!
Emma: wow I don’t regret making this group chat even a little bit.
Abi: i think it’s nice :)
Max: ok but Jackass is funny
Max: Laura just hit me for saying that btw
Dylan’s smile grew wider. It was nice to remember his coworkers as dumb teens rather than shells of their former selves while bandaged up and bruised in the back of an ambulance. The memory makes his stump twinge in pain.
Kaitlyn(buttface): How is everyone doing?
Dylan had no idea how to answer that question. How was he doing? He’s sitting on his couch with his cat Whiskers in his lap, something he’s done thousands of times before, but everything is different now. His mom was at work, finally returning after a week of fussing over her only child and his lack of a limb. He couldn’t blame her for being worried, but he hated the look of pity in his mom’s eyes. It almost looked like disappointment. “How could you let someone do this to you?” she asked.
Dylan was pulled from his thoughts when his phone pinged.
Emma: Okay so I finally got my phone back from evidence, and the fucking cops cracked my screen. How the fuck am I going to vlog now?
Abi: oh no :(
Jacob: my parents won’t leave me alone, they’re so freaked
Nick: same here.
Kaitlyn(buttface): I don’t think my dad fully understands what happened to us. It’s… hard to explain to someone that wasn’t there.
Ryan:): I can’t tell if my little sister believes me or not.
Laura: my little brothers keep howling around me. I threatened to shoot them with silver.
Max: one of them literally peed their pants when she said that
Dylan believed Max - his interactions with Laura, while limited, were intimidating.
Emma: That's actually kinda why I made this group chat… listen, not to get all mushy gushy, but I’m really feeling kind of… alone? Don’t get me wrong, I have my thousands of fabulous subscribers, but to them it’s just a story. They weren’t there.
Dylan was not expecting that from Emma.
Abi: emma :( my dad said he will let me come visit you this weekend once things calm down<3
Emma: <3
Dylan: I have to choose between petting Whiskers and texting now. Don’t even get me started on can openers!
While Dylan initially meant for this to help lighten the mood, he realized the message actually had a bitterness to it. These people are the only ones in the world that truly understood what happened that night, but they will never know what it’s like to be permanently and visibly altered by the entire ordeal.
Ryan:) calling…
HolyshitwhatwhatRyaniscallingme?!
Dylan quickly threw his phone down onto the couch in order to fix his hair, sending Whiskers flying from his lap. “Sorry baby!”
He hurriedly picked his phone back up, attempting to look cool, calm, and collected. The video preview of his front camera before he answered the call disagreed with his intentions.
“Ryan! Hey!”
“Dylan, my man, how’s it going?” Ryan’s monotone was both calming and insanely heart palpitating.
“Oh just sitting here, petting Whisky and ignoring all of the text messages from people asking me what happened. I didn’t even know I had this many second cousins.”
Ryan shook his head. “Vultures. People think I’ll just tell them the special inside scoop on what happened if they ask me directly. Like fuck off.”
“Exactly, man. It was hard enough telling my lawyer.”
Ryan scoffed. “But forget all of that. I wanted to talk to you.”
“Uh oh, about what?”
Ryan looked confused. “What? No, I mean I wanted to literally talk to you. I haven’t spoken to you directly in like two weeks.”
Oh, Dylan thought to himself. Ryan wanted to just talk… to me. Did he miss me?
“Oh! Yeah, I’m really happy to hear from you. Which, by the way, is only possible because I so charmingly asked you for your number. Four times. I would’ve stopped after five though. Or six.”
Ryan laughed at this, and Dylan’s palm began to sweat. “I promise you, I wanted to give it to you as soon as I realized you were serious about it. I’m just… shy.” Ryan looked away from the camera, and Dylan thinks he saw a peek of blush on his cheeks.
“Well, I am very intimidating. And sexy. Like a pirate. Although pirates probably weren’t actually sexy. But I do have the hook-hand thing to look forward to.” Dylan was nervous, and when Dylan is nervous, he flirts and rambles until he runs out of steam, hoping to God that his ramblings ended up being more funny than embarrassing.
Ryan smiled, but it didn’t match his eyes. “How is your arm? And, please, none of your charming wit. I’m worried about you.”
All of the moisture left Dylan’s mouth. He took what he hoped looked like a nonchalant gulp of water before answering. “Honestly? It… hurts. They gave me some pain killers, but I asked to be weaned off the harder stuff. They made me feel like a zombie. And I finally finished the antibiotics, so that’s awesome. And my mom is back at work today, so I can finally be alone. Although…” Dylan paused. He realized that, while he wanted some space from his loving but overbearing mother, he hated the feeling of being alone.
Ryan lifted an eyebrow. “Although?”
Dylan sighed before continuing. “Although… I kinda hate being alone right now. After everything. I keep turning around expecting you or Kaitlyn to be behind me. Usually holding a shotgun. Looking badass.” He added that last part to make the other boy smile. It worked.
“Yeah, to be honest, I kinda miss everybody? Like I know we were always going to go our separate ways after camp ended, but now it feels, like, weird.”
Dylan nodded, but felt a pang of sadness deep in his heart. Ryan didn’t miss Dylan, he missed the Hacketteers. “Yeah, and I’m guessing the camp isn’t opening again next summer.”
Ryan opened his eyes wide. “I don’t even want to think about the logistical nightmare that would be.”
Dylan chuckled, but did not say anything in response. He was still disappointed by the realization that Ryan missed the dynamics of the counselors and their wolf-fighting ways rather than his company.
Ryan spoke up again, his voice a slightly sped up version of his typical monotone. “Okay, honestly, I… really miss you. I don’t know why we didn’t talk more during the summer. Well, I do know why, I’m painfully awkward and shy.”
Dylan tried to respond nonchalantly to Ryan’s admission of missing him, but his heart was beating so loud that he was afraid his phone’s microphone would pick it up. “It definitely didn’t come across as ‘shy’ as much as ‘cool, brooding, mysterious, alluring’.” Dylan smiled and stopped himself before reaching the adjective ‘sexy’.
“I mean, I’m glad the social awkwardness isn’t, like, one hundred percent noticeable, but I also worry that, like, it may come across as uncaring?” Ryan sounded self-conscious, and Dylan felt the intense urge to reassure him.
“No, no, dude, you’re totally cool. Sometimes my overly blasé Dylan persona can be a bit much.”
“That’s funny, because I was always kinda jealous of blasé Dylan. You just seemed so… witty, all the time. Not awkward and quiet.”
Dylan looked incredulously at the camera. “No shit? Well, I guess blasé Dylan is going to be making more appearances now that I have to distract people from…” He lifted his stump into the camera’s view.
Ryan nodded. “But as much as I like blasé Dylan, I really want to get to know Dylan Dylan.”
Dylan couldn’t believe his ears or his heart rate. He was concerned he’d have a heart attack at any moment. “Well, Dylan Dylan really wants to get to know Ryan Ryan.”
“I’m really happy about that.”
Both boys sat in silence for a moment, smiling towards their cameras and attempting to hide the blushes on their cheeks. Dylan Dylan was very excited get to know Ryan Ryan.