The Fall Out:

An Until Dawn Fanfiction

Chapter Five:

Alone

-Josh, Sam-

A/N: This is a pretty Josh/Sam-heavy chapter. I'm not even sorry.

Joshua Washington - New York City, New York

It was the same nightmare he'd had a million times, only this time he awoke gasping for air as though a demon had been sitting on his chest while he slept. He shot up in bed, frantically feeling around for another body, but there was no one was there.

The existential crisis began to take hold of Josh's mind. He was alone.

Alone, alone alone.

"Everything's fine, everything's okay," he reminded himself as he pawed at his nightstand in the dark, finally finding his lamp and switching it on. The bright light painted shadows around his room, which was a little alarming at first, but then brought on an instant comfort. He never did like the dark.

Despite reminding himself that the dream wasn't real, his heart was thumping hard in his chest and his face was clammy. He'd always hoped that time would make the nightmares subside, but they still came. Less than they used to, but they always came.

It wasn't so much a nightmare tonight as it was a memory. And it started out how it always did - down, down, down in the mines.

Josh remembered very little about what happened to him that night. The last thing he really recalled was Sam's warm, green eyes staring up at him in concern - even after everything he'd done to her. Like she still cared about him.

Or, maybe she just wanted the keys to the cablecar.

No. It was the first one.

Those eyes haunted him more than any monster ever could. In that moment, they still held onto some kind of softness for him. Relief.

"We didn't think we'd getcha back," she'd said to him. But it sounded garbled and underwater. He wanted to reach out to her and hold her, cling onto her and bury his face in her hair. He knew from experience it smelled of lavender - he'd found himself tangled within it before. Maybe if Mike hadn't been there, he would have.

Because she came for him. Maybe she even loved him, then.

Or, maybe she just wanted the keys to the cablecar.

Fuck.

Ten years. Countless lectures. Endless therapy. And these thoughts still kept him awake at night. He thought he'd be passed this, by now. After all, wasn't his entire empire built on overcoming trauma? He wasn't supposed to feel this way. He wasn't supposed to have regrets.

"Regrets get in the way of your healing - they are like having hindsight as a superpower: useless during a time of crisis and in no way does it change the past."

He'd said that. In his book. People lived by what he said. And yet he was beginning to fear he was incapable of following his own advice. But, his brain never really worked properly when it came to Sam.

The biggest regret Josh ever had was never getting the chance to say sorry to her. The second biggest regret was never getting the chance to say goodbye before she vanished from his life.

The last time he saw Sam was a few days after he'd been rescued. He'd been heavily monitored, and mostly sedated, for those days. He had asked the police officer watching over him if it was really necessary to keep him handcuffed to the bar of his hospital bed - he'd been so doped up he doubted he'd make it farther than his hospital room door before collapsing altogether. The officer's lack of reaction gave him the only answer he needed.

He'd spent a lot of those days in a fog, trying to remember. And then as every fragment of what he'd done slowly slipped back into his mind, he hated himself more and more.

But above all that… he was alone. His biggest fear, to be left alone and forgotten, had come true. No one came to see him. No one cared about the boy who'd ruined their lives.

Until the day Sam came.

She hovered in the doorway, her face still bruised and parts of her still bandaged from everything she'd endured. She had a small butterfly bandaid on her forehead.

She still looked beautiful.

But he never told her that.

"Sammy," his voice croaked. He sounded far too hopeful, especially with the grave look on her face.

"Why would you do something so awful to me?" she asked simply. He wanted so badly for her to come further into the room, but she stayed so far away. That soft warmness he'd seen in the mines was gone. The light behind her eyes had flickered out. She'd never looked at him that way before.

He did this.

"You hate me," he cried. Broken, empty sobs that might have even been sincere; sometimes he wasn't sure he ever had any real emotions at all. But this certainly felt real. He knew that Sam never really knew for sure with him. At least, not anymore. She'd been fooled too many times before.

"No," she choked, quickly blinking away tears. She chuckled out a humorless laugh, shaking her head. "The sick part is I actually think I love you." The words cut through him like a knife. And then, she twisted it, "And it terrifies me."

His crying stopped abruptly and he stared at her with wide eyes. He could read her like a book, knew exactly what she was thinking. She didn't say it now, but she'd said it to him before: "How can you always turn your emotions on and off like a lightswitch?"

He never knew how to answer that, back then. He wouldn't know how to answer it now. Maybe he was a sociopath. Maybe just sick. One thing was for sure: she'd never trust him ever again. And he couldn't blame anyone but himself.

"I… I never meant to hurt you, Samm-"

"But you did." She cut him off before he could get her whole petname out. Sammy wasn't here, anymore. He knew it used to make her feel special when he called her that - he knew that just by the way she wouldn't let anyone else call her that but him. Now it was just a reminder that some broken things can't ever be fixed. A reminder of everything that was lost.

"You're the only one who has come here, you know," he said, wiping his nose with his sleeve. His eyes slowly crept to her face, but didn't connect with hers. He rolled a shoulder, "not even Chris."

"Well, I'm not staying."

"Oh," he breathed. He nodded absently, even though the thought of her leaving him there again, leaving him alone, made the knot in his stomach tighten. It was the hardest thing in the world to tell her, "I understand."

"I just came to say…" she bit her bottom lip, once again combating the tears in her eyes. Her head fell forward and she shook it, staring at her hands because it was too hard to look at him. "When I was really little, my grandma was dying. I didn't really understand death at that time, but I knew it meant I would never get to see her again…"

Josh watched her shift her weight on her feet. She was nervous. Broken, somehow. He wanted to fix it, to fix her, but he didn't know how.

Her voice grew shakier as she continued, "we… we were just waiting outside of her bedroom for them to let us in one or two at a time. I was five. It felt like we were out there waiting forever. And even then there was so much sadness in my heart because for some reason I knew… I knew they were only letting me in to say goodbye. I was never going to see her again or hug her or hear her stories…"

"Sam-" he tried. She wrapped her arms around herself, almost as though she were comforting herself. He wanted nothing more than to be able to do that for her.

She still couldn't look at him as she said with a sob in her throat, "I feel like I'm mourning you and you're not even dead."

"Sam, I'm right here," he told her, sitting up in his hospital bed as much as he could. "I swear, Sam. I will never hurt you-"

"I never want to see you again, Josh," she told him with quiet determination. Her eyes finally flickered up to his. She looked at him once more, the coldness in her vacant, empty stare sending almost making him shudder.

This was not the Sam he once knew. He broke her.

"Sam," he said again, his throat on fire. His eyes were teary, real ones this time. He wasn't above begging at this point. "Sam, please wait-"

Then he saw it, the single tear she allowed herself to shed over him, rolling down her cheek. For a second it seemed as though she had something else to say, but didn't. She wiped the lone tear away.

"The worst part is… I will probably always love you," she said, her voice sounding distant and far away. He wanted to say something. Anything to change her mind. He wanted to tell her he loved her too, that he always had. That he didn't know why he did what he did to her. That he was sick, but he'd get better. He'd be better for her. She looked at him one last time, her voice cracking as she told him, "but I will never forgive you."

As she turned to leave him for the very last time, he realized that was true for both of them: he'd never forgive himself.

Josh couldn't go back to sleep. This was happening more and more since he'd broached the reunion to Chris. Now his mind wouldn't stop wandering, rehashing things he'd long buried. It wasn't even his plan. When his manager came to him with the grand idea to get everyone from the Blackwood Pines incident together, he never realized it was going to stir up so many memories - so many feelings.

For him, it was uncovering every single demon he'd pretended to overcome. For his manager, it was fodder for another best-selling book. How could he say no to that? He could just hear the news headlines now: 'Joshua Washington seeks redemption among those he wronged.'

Or, at least, something along those lines.

He dragged his tired feet to the bathroom, instantly rummaging around in the medicine cabinet for something to take the edge off… or at least quiet his chaotic mind. There were countless pill bottles, although he wasn't on them all. Over the years he'd had a lot of doctors, and they all had a different idea of what exactly he needed to be a functioning part of society.

But he wasn't looking for something like that, right now.

He needed something that was going to slip him into a comfortably numb state as quickly as possible. He hadn't felt that craving for a long time.

As he reached for the metal "mint" container on the bottom pier, he hated himself. He ran his thumb across the top as he held it in his hand, popping it open. Thirty or forty, round, white little pills stared back at him. It had been a long time since he'd needed one… but he always knew they were here, just in case. There was a time he was all too dependent on these guys.

When he'd fallen - or was carried? He couldn't recall anymore - down into the mines, he'd really torn up his shoulder, so much so he needed surgery when they found him. That was the first time he'd been introduced to Oxycontin. And at first, it was for the pain.

Then, he grew to like the way it made him feel. Maybe a little too much. Itchy and sleepy, but totally numb. More than any of those other meds ever did for him, anyway. It reminded him of the morphine or other sedatives they used to give him in the hospital. But with Oxy he could walk around and live his life - they didn't flatten him out quite as much.

He took two into his without thinking, without remembering just how dependant on them he once was. They rested on his tongue a moment, while he still had the chance to spit them out. Staring at his own reflection, he swallowed.

'You're living a lie,' his mind hissed. It sounded a lot like Sam, although he could barely remember her voice anymore.

Angry at himself for more reasons than he could count, Josh punched the reflection in the mirror. He looked down at his bloodied knuckles, then back up to the broken glass. He watched it splinter off into countless eyes staring back at him full of judgement and disdain.

Samantha Jensen - Somewhere outside of Las Vegas, Nevada

Sam stared at the ceiling, listening to Mike softly snore in the other bed. She mindlessly twirled the charm on her necklace over and over and over again. She glanced sideways. The angry, red numbers on the clock beside her read 5:03 am; she'd been wide awake since around 3.

Realizing there was no use pretending like sleep was going to come for her, she quietly got out of her bed. Sam tiptoed over to the balcony, sliding the door open and slipping out. The blue, morning chill was a refreshing welcome as she plopped down in the cold, plastic chair. She ran her fingers through her long, knotted up hair and rested her head on her knees. Her brain felt like it was throbbing inside her skull from being so tired and over-thinking. She unhinged her jaw, massaging the side of her mouth where she felt the strain of clenching her teeth the last few hours.

Mike had been out for about a week now, and she was running low on money. She knew that soon, maybe in the next day or so, she needed to make the long drive home to her mom's house.

Maybe home would be a nice change. Maybe she was tired of running. Lord help her, she was scared, though. Scared to face a lot of things she'd left behind. She knew Mike was, too. But she'd be lying if she said his mere resurgence in her life hadn't flooded her with a million, microscopic memories that had wormed their way into her brain. She found herself wondering about Ashley, Chris, Matt… she found herself missing Emily, Hannah, Beth…

...Josh.

She hated that she still thought about him - although, she hadn't in some time. She'd steadily kept herself distracted with travel, booze and meaningless flings over the years. And yet… having her friend Mike back only made her realize what she'd known deep down in the darkest part of her mind: she was lonely.

Before Sam left town years ago, she'd been driving herself insane over Josh. She found out about the baby not long before he'd gotten rescued from the mines. She waited a few days to try to figure out how she felt about it all, but when she got the courage up to visit him she knew right away: she never wanted to see him again. It was so hard to keep herself from going back on that, too. He was her best friend and so much more.

When Beth and Hannah were missing, he would call her in the middle of the night, just to hear her voice or tell her a story. Her phone would violently vibrate on the nightstand and she'd groggily reach for it, giving him an exhausted, "heyyyy," that was usually muffled by her pillow.

"Did I ever tell you the story about the time Hannah, Beth and I were in New Mexico and got our palms read by a gypsy with one eye?"

He had. Twice. But Sam didn't care.

"No," she'd yawn. "But please, tell me that one…" She'd just lay there, sometimes for hours, listening to him talk, even when he didn't have much to say.

"You're always there for me. I don't deserve you," he'd tell her, sadly. But being there for Josh wasn't hard then, and having him share in her grief was just as important to her as it was to him.

And then, after that night in 2015, it was all gone. No more late night calls. No more whispered conversations in the wee hours of morning. No more impromptu slumber parties. It was over. And she felt like she had no one.

After losing Hannah, Beth and then Josh all in a year, she really didn't.

Having him away at Oceanside made it easier at first, but as the days loomed closer and closer to his homecoming, Sam snapped. She packed up all her things and left before she had a chance to ever be ensnared in his web again. Because for some reason, she'd always been weak when it came to Josh. He knew that. He used it a lot.

Sam always knew Josh was… different. He wasn't like other boys she'd met, there was something so much more wise and worldly about him, regardless of how goofy or strange he could be. She couldn't quite put her finger on what it was, although it all made sense, now. He was an old soul - and, apparently, a tortured one as well. The time she really saw a glimpse into just how dark he could be was the one of the many times she'd gone up to the mountain.

She had barely turned 17, and the ten teenagers were running rampant around the giant, sprawling lodge. It was really late and everyone was pretty far gone when Josh suggested they play "Hide and Seek" in the dark. Of course Hannah and Beth blew him off immediately - years of creepy "Hide and Seek" with Josh had taken its toll on the twins. Everyone else groaned in agreement.

But Sam bravely declared, "I'll do it!" Josh cocked an eyebrow, his hand moving thoughtfully to his chin.

"Hmm…" he murmured as he looked her up and down, circling her. Sam chuckled nervously under his intense gaze.

"What?"

"I dunno… I'm not sure you'd be able to handle it. You're like a tiny, little woodland creature-"

"Oh, shush it," Sam rolled her eyes, her hands defensively shooting to her hips. "I think I can manage just fine. And you're not that scary, Josh."

"Oh, ho-ho!" He laughed mockingly, "Is that a challenge?"

Sam huffed out her chest and stuck out her chin, "maybe."

"I dunnoooo," he said again, tauntingly.

"Oh, would you two just shut up and get a room already?" Emily quipped from the couch, her head falling back into a cushion.

"What!" Sam said, turning her narrowed gaze toward her friend. "What does that mean?"

"We know you guys make out behind the library. Chris already told us," Jess chimed in, and Sam felt the blood rush to her cheeks as her eyes snapped to Josh's. He was too busy glaring at Chris to notice.

"Nice, man," Josh shot sarcastically in Chris' direction, "I'll remember that next time you have a secret." Chris could only lazily shrug, too drunk to really defend himself.

"Sorry, dude." He pointed accusingly toward Jessica. "Jess forced it outta me. She has a gift, what can I say…"

"I really do, you can't blame him," Jess nodded enthusiastically in agreement. Any compliment was okay with her, no matter what the context.

"Whatever," Sam brushed off, trying to change the subject as quickly as possible. "We doin this or what, Washington?"

"Only if I get to hide first," his low voice drawled. "Better be careful, Sammy. I'm good at hiding." He teasingly tiptoed his fingers up her spine on his way by. Sam just laughed and writhed her body away from him. "I know all the best spots."

"One, two…"

"Close your eyes!" he demanded, his deep voice echoing around the big, open room. "Count to sixty! No peeking."

Sam snorted and covered her eyes with her hands, remaining where she stood, "...three… four…" She heard the door to the basement slam. Assuming it was safe, she peeked through her fingers. Josh was gone so she uncovered her eyes and plopped down on the couch next to Emily and Mike.

"That should keep him busy for a while, dontcha think?" she smirked, shaking her head in a proud way.

"You're evil," Mike said.

"No I'm not. Didn't you hear? I'm like a little, tiny woodland creature."

The friends settled into conversation for a good five or so minutes before Hannah's head popped up from her pillow on the ground, "are you just gonna leave my brother down there?" she half-giggled.

"Right, I almost forgot," Sam giggled back. She stood reluctantly, giving a stretch. The slightest bit of fear hit her when she spotted the door to the basement. She turned back to the group, "anyone wanna come with me?"

"Oh no. No way. I'm not going down there," Ashley piped up quickly. Sam should have expected that though; Ashley didn't particularly love anything scary.

"Beth?" Sam tried.

"You got yourself into this mess. Sorry Sam."

"You guys suck," Sam groaned, turning away and heading down the stairs towards the door. She heard her friends laugh and call after her, variations of 'good luck!' and 'nice knowin' ya!' She just snickered and shook her head.

"There's a flashlight in the credenza!" Beth shouted to Sam's back, and Sam was thankful for the tip. She opened the drawer closest to the basement door and saw a red flashlight rolling around. She grabbed it and clicked it on, at least feeling like she wasn't going down into the basement completely helpless.

She heaved a sigh, opening the basement door and yelling down: "Ready or not, here I come!" Her words echoed back at her, weakly.

The basement was far darker than she had imagined, and much colder, too. She couldn't tell if the shudder rippling down her spine was from fear or the temperature, but she pushed it out of her mind the farther she ventured down.

"Come out, come out, wherever you are…" she sang. There was no response, but her own voice was comforting to her in the dark dampness of the cellar. She stumbled over an empty box, nearly falling flat on her face against the concrete.

"Shit!" she hissed, clutching her heart with her hand. She was breathing fast, shallow breaths until she got herself calmed down from the near-collision.

"Josh!" she yelled, suddenly very done with this little game. "You win! You can come out, now!"

Sam froze as she heard a low, ominous sound from down a long hallway. She didn't want to continue, but a part of her was actually kind of worried about Josh, even though she knew he could probably handle himself. She certainly didn't want him back up all huffy about the fact that she left him down there.

She continued down the long hallway from where the noise had come to find an open door. She peeked inside and looked around, her flashlight landing on various objects in storage. Sam let out a groan.

"Stupid Josh and his stupid games," she grumbled to herself, carefully walking in. "Josh?" she called out again, and when she received no response her heart rate increased. "Josh, I don't wanna play, anymore. Let's just go back to the group." Still nothing. Eerie silence.

And then, "Saaaaammm." She heard a low voice growl. She knew he was messing with her, but she'd had enough. He'd called her bluff, she was too freaked out.

"I quit! I'm going back-" Sam turned back around, quickly heading back the way she came. When she rounded the corner and felt a hand snag her, whipping her around and slamming her against the concrete wall; it wasn't enough to hurt, but it was enough force to absolutely terrify her. A gloved hand pressed hard against her collarbone, holding her steady while the other hand came up and cupped over her mouth, catching her scream.

Sam stared at the figure in fear, but it slowly subsided as she pieced together what was actually happening. He had a mask on, a very familiar halloween mask - the same one Josh had worn a few years ago. She looked through the eyes of the mask, easily recognizing Josh's stare back at her.

He removed his hand from her mouth, but his other stayed planted near her neck, holding her to the wall.

"You scared the shit outta me!" she finally breathed. His hand slid down a bit and rested just over her heart - she knew he could feel it thumping hard in her chest. He said nothing, but tilted his head to to side, his stare becoming more and more menacing.

"Josh, cut it out," Sam said, the words almost caught in her throat. Still he said nothing, merely held up a very sharp gutting knife. In that moment, Sam couldn't honestly say she wasn't worried. She would have liked to believe Josh would never hurt her, but looking at his eyes through that mask, something seemed off. She wasn't sure what it was then, but she was actually scared of him.

"Josh-" she started.

Sam flinched as he brought the knife down swiftly, hitting her right in the abdomen. She gasped, but then she felt nothing. She took a few seconds to process it before she smiled up at him deviously. As he slowly pulled the knife back, Sam watched the blade slide back out from the handle. It was a retractable knife. A prop. Plastic.

Josh raised his mask, smiling dangerously at her as he tapped her on the tip of the nose with the fake blade, "Gotcha."

"You're such a jerk-" Sam huffed out, still chuckling at herself. She smacked the fake knife away and out of her face.

"I scaaaared you," he teased lowly, leaning his face down close to hers. Sam could feel his breath hitting her cheek.

"I wasn't scared."

"I win," he whispered into her lips, leaning into her kiss.

"You cheated," Sam murmured against his mouth, but still wrapping her arms around his neck and pressing herself closer to him.

"Huh-uh."

Maybe it was the danger in him she was drawn to. Maybe it was the darkness. She never really knew for sure, but even then she knew her heart was in trouble with this one.

Sam's head jerked up when she heard Mike stumbling around in the motel room, cursing quietly to himself. After a few seconds he slid open the door, yawning and blinking away sleep from his eyes.

"What are you doin' out here so early?" he asked, patting down his insane bedhead. Sam held up a cigarette and then put it out, answering his question.

"So… um…" he began, and her eyes fell back to him. He looked nervous. "I forgot to tell you yesterday. My mom said she got a really strange call." He leaned against the doorframe, stuffing his hands into his jeans pockets. "Said it was from an old friend asking how he could get ahold of me."

Sam just nodded, looking away from him and back out toward the sunrise. She immediately lit the tip of a second cigarette. She didn't know why she felt so on edge - maybe because when she called her mom to check in a few days ago, there was a similar message waiting for her.

"Sam?"

"I got the same call."

"Do you think it's… do you think it's him?"

Sam knew which 'him' Mike was referring to but no - Josh knew better than to call her mother. He would never do his own dirty work. He would leave that up to his lawyers or…

"No. I think it was Chris," Sam said, hugging onto her knees and biting her thumbnail absently. "I mean, she said it sounded like Chris."

"What do you think he wanted?"

"I don't know. I haven't heard from him since he called me and yelled at me for taking Ashley with me when I ran away."

"Yeah… he was pretty torn up about that one, huh?" Mike concurred. Sam hated that memory. Chris was hysterical, and she couldn't tell him anything. She'd never heard him so angry or hurt. But she couldn't go against Ashley's wishes. She owed her.

"Are… are you okay, Sam?"

She was crying. She couldn't remember the last time she had really cried, save for that moment on the beach before she came to get Mike. All these memories and feelings were just getting worse the more she ran.

"Yeah," she choked, wiping the wetness from her face. "Yeah it's just…"

Mike came out, pulling up the other plastic chair and resting his hand on her knee caringly, "what? What is it?"

Her jem-toned eyes raised to meet his, "I want to go home." Mike exhaled and sighed, leaning back in his chair as though she had taken a huge weight off his shoulders.

"Me too."

To Be Continued