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emeraldembersTitle: The Way We Made It Through
Fandom: Until Dawn
Pairings: Chris/Josh, Ashley/Chris
Rating: PG13
Word Count: 1425
Warnings: References to cannibalism, body horror, and surgery to rectify that body horror.
Summary: A post-canon fix-it fic: Chris and Josh figure out a new kind of normal, and Ashley is the best ex a guy could wish for.
Author's Notes: Originally written as an anonymous gift for lost-untildawn, then cleaned up and expanded for AO3. It’s still a gift for them on principle <3.
* * *
Chris wasn't exactly the religious sort, but he still made a quick little prayer to whoever or whatever might have been listening before he opened his eyes - a quick little prayer for Josh to still be there - and let out a short breath of relief on seeing it had been answered. Either that or he was just lucky these days.
It had taken months to persuade Josh to sleep over, just once. Months of helping Josh learn to trust himself, months of recovery from what they had been through, and while Chris knew they would be recovering for years to come, maybe even the rest of their lives, he hadn't wanted Josh to do it alone.
Chris' fingers itched to stroke along the fading scars from Josh's surgery, neat lines around his cheeks and mouth from careful and extensive grafts. Chris didn't know how much they had cost, didn't want to know, but he figured they were worth every penny.
Chris had seen Josh in the hospital after he was first rescued, before Josh's teeth were fixed or the too-wide gash in his cheek had been closed up. He still had nightmares about it, sometimes; not about Josh coming for him, but about Josh being in pain, Josh changing further into one of those - those things.
Sam visited him once, before deciding she had enough to deal with on her own. Ashley had shown up more, and Chris had been thankful for that, glad to know someone else wanted to make sure Josh was doing okay, and glad just to have her around. Chris knew he loved her, and she loved him, and that much was great - but falling into bed together hadn't done much for either of them. The cuddling part afterwards, the kissing, that had been great - sex had just felt messy, even weird.
Ashley called them hetero life partners, which was kind of hilarious given neither of them were heterosexual, but it worked.
Matt paid the occasional visit until Josh was up to talking, after which the visits came to an abrupt end. Chris didn't blame him, or Sam, or any of the others for leaving. Josh had thrown them all under the bus for what happened to his sisters, and even if Chris wanted the others to forgive him, he could understand them not wanting to.
Ashley still felt enough guilt over the prank to want to help Josh, even if it was the wendigos' fault that Hannah and Beth had died. Chris hadn't been able to stop thinking about all the what-ifs.
What if he'd been sober enough to stop the prank, what if they had known how dangerous the mountain was, what if people had talked to Josh - really talked to him - about his sisters. What if someone had made sure Josh took his medication, what if that last therapist had been able to get in touch with Josh or his family, what if someone had been able to get through to him. What if Josh hadn't been left alone or feeling alone over and over and over again.
What if, what if, what if.
Chris had sobbed with relief when he got the phone call telling him Josh had been found, and ended up spending so much time in the hospital checking up on him that all the nurses knew him by name before Josh was discharged. Chris had been there anytime Josh could stand to be seen, and a few times when he couldn't.
When Josh was finally let out of the hospital, after weeks of surgery and months of therapy, Chris had kept up those visits to Josh's place and felt overjoyed when Josh started visiting him in turn.
Even if normal life felt forced, there were moments that were still easy between them. When they were watching a movie and got caught up in tearing it apart, when they were playing a game together and got competitive, when they ordered in pizzas or chinese and grumbled about whose turn it was to take out the trash.
Josh had seemed genuinely disappointed that the whole boning-Ashley-senseless thing hadn't worked out, but after a horrendously awkward conversation between the three of them ended up in Ashley taking Josh aside for a private word, he'd let it slide.
Weeks outside the hospital turned into months, Chris watching Josh's scars start to fade and gloves coming off as his fingernails grew back in, and smiles and laughter came less often but felt more real.
The first time they kissed didn't even feel like a first. It felt more as if it was something they had always done, but just hadn't remembered to in a while. It was short and sweet and simple, not even clumsy.
Josh had been washing the dishes, Chris drying them and putting them away, and after finishing up he'd set the towel aside, turned to Josh, and kissed him.
The second kiss felt more like the first one should have done. Chris realised what he'd just done, gripped onto Josh's waist and felt the soft white cotton of his t-shirt, the warm skin underneath it, and felt his stomach flip when he leaned in for another kiss and had Josh meet him halfway.
It was strange how little their relationship changed afterwards. Hugs lasted longer, laughter was as likely to be interrupted by kisses as punches to the chest or arm, and for want of a better word, it had felt normal. Like a slice of something average in their day-to-day lives after surviving so much fucked-up bullshit.
Ashley had just shrugged when Chris told her. "I'm still your number one girl, right?"
And that was that.
It wasn't perfect though, by any means. Josh still had problems to deal with that couldn't be fixed by friendship or medication or therapy; Josh had tasted raw, human flesh, still remembered the taste of it, and that was the kind of mind fuck that didn't just go away. He still remembered wanting to kill, wanting to hunt.
He wouldn't let anyone sleep in the same house as him for months, refused to sleep over at anyone else's house for the same reason. Chris had suggested keeping a dog for a while as proof he wasn't a killer, but Josh was just as terrified by the thought of hurting an animal as a human. Ashley had suggested letting someone stay the night with a taser, and he'd shot that down too, certain he would still be able to overpower them.
The worst thing was knowing that if he did turn, that would probably be right.
Chris had left it alone after that, thought it something settled and final, until one night they were curled up together on Chris' sofa, Chris bored to tears by the less than thrilling horror movie they were supposedly watching together, and Josh started stroking his arm.
"Mm?" Chris mumbled, not sure if Josh wanted his attention or was just touching him for the hell of it. They did that sometimes, now, and he had to admit, it was pretty awesome.
"Just thinking something through," Josh said, and after a while continued, "Hannah recognised me. I- I don't know h- I don't want to think about how, but, she did. She recognised me."
Chris had already been hugging Josh loosely, but tightened his hold at that, tried to think of something to say.
"Can I sleep over?" Josh asked, and Chris leaned up to look at him, nodded and kissed him as sweetly as he knew how.
And here they were now, the morning after - or afternoon after, judging by the clock on Chris' bedside table - and Chris was all in one piece, with Josh within arm's reach.
Chris kept some distance, shaking Josh awake by the shoulder instead of waking him with a kiss to make sure he wasn't startled, and grinned when Josh woke up with nothing more dramatic than a yawn.
“Knew you wouldn’t tear strips off me,” Chris teased, hating every word that came out of his mouth but finishing the thought anyway, “You don’t even give me scratches or hickeys, dude. Told you I’d be safe.”
It was probably the worst thing he could have said, but Josh laughed anyway and scooted close enough to kiss him. Even if Josh looked a mess with his bed hair and dorky grin and eyes tearing up with relief, he was beautiful. He was perfect.
And Chris never wanted to let him go.
Fandom: Until Dawn
Pairings: Chris/Josh, Ashley/Chris
Rating: PG13
Word Count: 1425
Warnings: References to cannibalism, body horror, and surgery to rectify that body horror.
Summary: A post-canon fix-it fic: Chris and Josh figure out a new kind of normal, and Ashley is the best ex a guy could wish for.
Author's Notes: Originally written as an anonymous gift for lost-untildawn, then cleaned up and expanded for AO3. It’s still a gift for them on principle <3.
* * *
Chris wasn't exactly the religious sort, but he still made a quick little prayer to whoever or whatever might have been listening before he opened his eyes - a quick little prayer for Josh to still be there - and let out a short breath of relief on seeing it had been answered. Either that or he was just lucky these days.
It had taken months to persuade Josh to sleep over, just once. Months of helping Josh learn to trust himself, months of recovery from what they had been through, and while Chris knew they would be recovering for years to come, maybe even the rest of their lives, he hadn't wanted Josh to do it alone.
Chris' fingers itched to stroke along the fading scars from Josh's surgery, neat lines around his cheeks and mouth from careful and extensive grafts. Chris didn't know how much they had cost, didn't want to know, but he figured they were worth every penny.
Chris had seen Josh in the hospital after he was first rescued, before Josh's teeth were fixed or the too-wide gash in his cheek had been closed up. He still had nightmares about it, sometimes; not about Josh coming for him, but about Josh being in pain, Josh changing further into one of those - those things.
Sam visited him once, before deciding she had enough to deal with on her own. Ashley had shown up more, and Chris had been thankful for that, glad to know someone else wanted to make sure Josh was doing okay, and glad just to have her around. Chris knew he loved her, and she loved him, and that much was great - but falling into bed together hadn't done much for either of them. The cuddling part afterwards, the kissing, that had been great - sex had just felt messy, even weird.
Ashley called them hetero life partners, which was kind of hilarious given neither of them were heterosexual, but it worked.
Matt paid the occasional visit until Josh was up to talking, after which the visits came to an abrupt end. Chris didn't blame him, or Sam, or any of the others for leaving. Josh had thrown them all under the bus for what happened to his sisters, and even if Chris wanted the others to forgive him, he could understand them not wanting to.
Ashley still felt enough guilt over the prank to want to help Josh, even if it was the wendigos' fault that Hannah and Beth had died. Chris hadn't been able to stop thinking about all the what-ifs.
What if he'd been sober enough to stop the prank, what if they had known how dangerous the mountain was, what if people had talked to Josh - really talked to him - about his sisters. What if someone had made sure Josh took his medication, what if that last therapist had been able to get in touch with Josh or his family, what if someone had been able to get through to him. What if Josh hadn't been left alone or feeling alone over and over and over again.
What if, what if, what if.
Chris had sobbed with relief when he got the phone call telling him Josh had been found, and ended up spending so much time in the hospital checking up on him that all the nurses knew him by name before Josh was discharged. Chris had been there anytime Josh could stand to be seen, and a few times when he couldn't.
When Josh was finally let out of the hospital, after weeks of surgery and months of therapy, Chris had kept up those visits to Josh's place and felt overjoyed when Josh started visiting him in turn.
Even if normal life felt forced, there were moments that were still easy between them. When they were watching a movie and got caught up in tearing it apart, when they were playing a game together and got competitive, when they ordered in pizzas or chinese and grumbled about whose turn it was to take out the trash.
Josh had seemed genuinely disappointed that the whole boning-Ashley-senseless thing hadn't worked out, but after a horrendously awkward conversation between the three of them ended up in Ashley taking Josh aside for a private word, he'd let it slide.
Weeks outside the hospital turned into months, Chris watching Josh's scars start to fade and gloves coming off as his fingernails grew back in, and smiles and laughter came less often but felt more real.
The first time they kissed didn't even feel like a first. It felt more as if it was something they had always done, but just hadn't remembered to in a while. It was short and sweet and simple, not even clumsy.
Josh had been washing the dishes, Chris drying them and putting them away, and after finishing up he'd set the towel aside, turned to Josh, and kissed him.
The second kiss felt more like the first one should have done. Chris realised what he'd just done, gripped onto Josh's waist and felt the soft white cotton of his t-shirt, the warm skin underneath it, and felt his stomach flip when he leaned in for another kiss and had Josh meet him halfway.
It was strange how little their relationship changed afterwards. Hugs lasted longer, laughter was as likely to be interrupted by kisses as punches to the chest or arm, and for want of a better word, it had felt normal. Like a slice of something average in their day-to-day lives after surviving so much fucked-up bullshit.
Ashley had just shrugged when Chris told her. "I'm still your number one girl, right?"
And that was that.
It wasn't perfect though, by any means. Josh still had problems to deal with that couldn't be fixed by friendship or medication or therapy; Josh had tasted raw, human flesh, still remembered the taste of it, and that was the kind of mind fuck that didn't just go away. He still remembered wanting to kill, wanting to hunt.
He wouldn't let anyone sleep in the same house as him for months, refused to sleep over at anyone else's house for the same reason. Chris had suggested keeping a dog for a while as proof he wasn't a killer, but Josh was just as terrified by the thought of hurting an animal as a human. Ashley had suggested letting someone stay the night with a taser, and he'd shot that down too, certain he would still be able to overpower them.
The worst thing was knowing that if he did turn, that would probably be right.
Chris had left it alone after that, thought it something settled and final, until one night they were curled up together on Chris' sofa, Chris bored to tears by the less than thrilling horror movie they were supposedly watching together, and Josh started stroking his arm.
"Mm?" Chris mumbled, not sure if Josh wanted his attention or was just touching him for the hell of it. They did that sometimes, now, and he had to admit, it was pretty awesome.
"Just thinking something through," Josh said, and after a while continued, "Hannah recognised me. I- I don't know h- I don't want to think about how, but, she did. She recognised me."
Chris had already been hugging Josh loosely, but tightened his hold at that, tried to think of something to say.
"Can I sleep over?" Josh asked, and Chris leaned up to look at him, nodded and kissed him as sweetly as he knew how.
And here they were now, the morning after - or afternoon after, judging by the clock on Chris' bedside table - and Chris was all in one piece, with Josh within arm's reach.
Chris kept some distance, shaking Josh awake by the shoulder instead of waking him with a kiss to make sure he wasn't startled, and grinned when Josh woke up with nothing more dramatic than a yawn.
“Knew you wouldn’t tear strips off me,” Chris teased, hating every word that came out of his mouth but finishing the thought anyway, “You don’t even give me scratches or hickeys, dude. Told you I’d be safe.”
It was probably the worst thing he could have said, but Josh laughed anyway and scooted close enough to kiss him. Even if Josh looked a mess with his bed hair and dorky grin and eyes tearing up with relief, he was beautiful. He was perfect.
And Chris never wanted to let him go.
