NOTE: Here's a quick fic that I wrote on a whim. Until Dawn is amazing. I love it. Seen quite a number of playthroughs with differing outcomes. Sorry, I had to write this down. Just had to before it left my mind.

EDIT (9/23/2015): Added more words.

It was two in the morning when Chris gargled out of his sleep to silence that annoying pop song that had become his ringtone. He reached over and scrambled for the screaming device as well as his glasses. He immediately jolted upright on his bed upon seeing the name and answered the call.

"Ash?"

There was whimpering on the other end. "Chris?"

"Ash? Ash, are you okay? What's wrong?" Chris asked, drowsiness withering away.

"Chris, I...I... I can't sleep..." Ashley stammered.

"Oh, Ash..." He rubbed his eyes to stay awake. "I know, I know."

He heard her break down. "Chris, I can't stop dreaming about what happened... The nightmares won't go away. I don't want to go to a psychiatrist, Chris. I just want to forget this all ever happened! I just, I just..."

"Ash, I understand. We're both traumatized. We all are. It...it takes time."

Ashley sniffled. "At least you're not having them. It's just that...my head keeps bringing up the saw blade and the, and the gun, and...and..."

"Shhhh, Ash. It's okay. It's over now. No wendigos, no crazy Saw stuff; it's all over." He waited for Ashley to hold herself up again. "I know, it's tough. I'm still recovering. We just gotta...power through it, y'know?"

"I...I can't..."

Before he knew it, Chris was on his way to the kitchen to grab himself a cold glass of water, phone glued to his ear. "Ash, listen to me. Josh was...Josh lost it. He overdid this revenge prank and things got out of hand. But it is all over. I promise you, Ash, it is all over. It's all in your head now. The wendigos are dead. Done. Gone."

"But, Chris, what about the two cops who went missing in the mines? They still haven't found Josh and, and..." Ashley sobbed.

"Ash, calm down. Keep it together," Chris nearly growled. He mentally slapped himself. It felt so wrong the way he said it, like he was a scene from Full Metal Jacket. He quickly shifted gears. "Oh, geez... Listen, I just came out of a bad dream. And it was just like yours, being back at the lodge, pointing the gun at, at..." He gulped down on his drink.

"At me? Because, Chris, in my dream, I was pointing it to you... And I, I pulled the trigger. I didn't want to but I had to! I'm sorry, Chris, I'm so, so sorry..."

Ashley was now audibly in tears; sobbing, hiccuping, choking. Chris dropped onto the stool before the bar, burying his hair into his hands. Poor Ash. They were all through it. The night was the worst but the aftermath was just as bad. Local media fanfare, being dubbed the 'Blackwood Seven', interrogated relentlessly, accused, foul play, all that shit happening.

And just everyone was going through their own plate of post-traumatic stress management, he was constantly on the receiving end of Ashley's growing hysteria. He wondered how many respirators were needed before she finally returned to normal.

Ashley continued to cry over the wire while Chris felt like shit. And it sucked that it seemed as though there was nothing he could do. Other than prop Ashley up. "Ash, it's alright. I'm still here. I'm talking to you. We're all okay. Come now, you need to get some sleep."

Chris waited until Ashley winded down. He guessed she was tired. "Chris... I'm sorry, I... I didn't... I just wanted to... I..."

"Shhhh," he replied as calmly as he could. "It's okay, Ash. It's okay."

"Thanks..." she croaked. "I...I... Thanks for being there...I know I'm being a pain and all but..."

"No, no, Ash! It's all good. This was good time." Chris could feel her smile on the other end. That made him comfortable. And warm. "Hey, let's meet up first thing in the morning, 'kay? Same place. My treat."

Ashley composed herself. "Okay... Okay. Will do. And...Chris?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks...I...I really appreciate it."

"Don't mention it. As long as you're doing fine."

"I am now. Thanks. See you tomorrow, Chris. Bye."

"Bye." Chris held the phone up to his ear long after she clicked off. When he finally laid it down on the bar, he felt his eyes water. He took off his glasses and began to weep. It was his turn to feel pain.

Amid his slow mourning, he hoped that Sam and the rest were doing okay.

ORIGINALLY DRAFTED: September 12, 2015

LAST EDITED: September 22, 2015