Work Text:
The fire was finally out. The warmth of the sun, pale and struggling through the trees, crept over the mountain lodge, casting long shadows over the charred remains of the cabin that had nearly become their tomb. Mike sat in the clearing, nursing a wound he could barely remember getting. Sam, Emily, and Ashley huddled around him, watching in silence as the last of the flames died down, but a tension lingered in the air.
"Where’s Matt?" Emily’s voice cut through the quiet, her face pale beneath the streaks of ash and grime. She glanced toward the smouldering lodge, a hint of hope that maybe he’d emerge from the wreckage, that he’d been there all along, somehow unseen.
Mike’s eyes narrowed, his chest tight with worry. He remembered Matt being with Jessica near the mines. "He was... He was down there with Jess," he muttered, feeling the weight of dread settling in. They’d made it, but Matt and Jess were still out there somewhere in the depths of those mines, and if the creatures hadn’t gotten to them yet, they would soon.
"I’m going back to find him." Mike stood, his mind already working, refusing to entertain the idea that it might be too late. "And Jess."
"What? Are you insane?" Ashley’s voice was sharp, a note of panic breaking through her usual calm. "After all of that, you’re really going to go back in there?"
Mike shot her a look. "I can’t leave him down there," he said simply. He knew the risk; he’d seen what the Wendigos could do, felt the cold terror of their eyes in the dark. But he couldn’t leave Matt behind. Not after everything they’d been through. Not after everything he’d survived.
With no time to lose, Mike picked up a flashlight and headed back toward the path that led down to the mines. He could hear Emily protesting behind him, Sam’s voice rising in an attempt to calm her, but it all faded as he disappeared into the dark.
The mines were cold and silent as Mike picked his way down, his flashlight flickering as he moved deeper into the tunnels. His heart pounded with every step, his mind swirling with images of Jessica and Matt, alone and injured, or worse. He pushed the thoughts aside, focusing on the steady sound of his breathing and the flicker of the flashlight beam bouncing off the jagged walls.
"Matt!" he called out, his voice echoing into the darkness. "Jess!"
For a moment, there was only silence, and then—a faint reply, a desperate shout that cut through the stillness. Relief washed over him as he followed the sound, heart pounding as he approached a low tunnel.
There, huddled against the wall, he found Matt, clutching Jessica’s limp form. Blood streaked her face, her clothes torn and dirt-smeared, but her chest rose and fell in shallow breaths.
"Mike..." Matt looked up, his voice hoarse with exhaustion and relief. "I thought— I didn’t think anyone would..."
Mike’s throat tightened, and he knelt beside them, checking Jessica’s pulse and making sure she was still breathing. "Don’t worry," he murmured. "I’m here. We’re getting out of this."
With a careful arm around Jessica’s shoulders, Mike helped her to her feet, and Matt supported her other side, leaning heavily on Mike for balance as they made their way out of the mines.
It took hours to get back to safety, hours of gruelling silence and halting steps as they dragged themselves up the mountain and away from the horrors they’d barely escaped. When they finally emerged, Mike could barely see through the tears of relief in his eyes. Sam and the others were waiting, their faces filled with shock and joy as they rushed forward to help Matt and Jessica inside.
In the weeks that followed, they all tried to rebuild their lives in the shadow of what had happened. Jessica was staying with her family, dealing with the trauma that had scarred her more deeply than any physical wound. Emily, Ashley, and Sam made regular visits to check in on her, slowly reuniting as the memories became easier to bear.
As for Mike, he found himself reaching out to Matt more than anyone else. He’d never really known Matt that well before—the jock who’d been a constant presence at school but never more than that. But something about those days spent together, escaping death side by side, had changed things. Matt was the only one who seemed to understand the lingering fear that shadowed Mike’s every step, the only one who didn’t flinch at the mention of the mines or the Wendigos.
They started hanging out more, meeting up under the pretence of needing to ‘check in’ on each other. Sometimes they’d just go for a walk, talking about everything and nothing, avoiding the things they weren’t ready to face yet. Other times, they’d sit in silence, side by side, the comfort of someone nearby enough to ease the edge off the nightmares.
One afternoon, as they sat in the park under the grey autumn sky, Matt leaned back on the bench, a small, thoughtful smile on his face.
"Remember that night in the lodge?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper, as though speaking too loudly would break the spell.
Mike chuckled softly. "Yeah. Seems like a lifetime ago."
"Feels like everything’s different now," Matt murmured, his gaze fixed on the ground.
Mike nodded, understanding. "Yeah. Everything’s different."
There was a long pause, the silence settling between them, filled with things neither of them had dared to say. Mike glanced over, catching Matt’s eye, and he saw something there—a flicker of something raw, vulnerable, hidden beneath layers of everything they’d been through together.
"Hey," Mike said softly, leaning in closer. "I wouldn’t have made it out if it wasn’t for you."
Matt’s face softened, a hint of a smile breaking through. "Right back at you. You saved my life, Mike. Both me and Jess. I... I don’t think I can ever thank you enough."
The air between them felt charged, heavy with things unsaid. Mike didn’t pull away, his hand reaching out to rest lightly on Matt’s, their fingers barely touching. The simple contact sent a thrill through him, something he hadn’t expected but couldn’t ignore.
"Maybe you don’t have to," Mike said, his voice low, steady.
Their eyes met, and for a moment, it felt like they were the only two people in the world. Slowly, hesitantly, Matt’s fingers curled around Mike’s, their hands tangling together. There was no need for words; everything was conveyed in that simple touch, a silent acknowledgment of what they’d survived, of the bond that had grown between them.
In that moment, the fear, the trauma, the memories—all of it faded, leaving only the warmth of Matt’s hand in his, grounding him in the present. Mike leaned in, his lips brushing softly against Matt’s, testing, waiting, hoping. And when Matt kissed him back, he felt the weight of the past lift, replaced by a new warmth that filled every corner of him.
They broke apart slowly, resting their foreheads together, breathing in each other’s presence. There was no need for promises, no need for declarations; they both knew that whatever was happening between them was something that couldn’t be defined or labelled. It was enough to be together, to know that they’d found something in each other that could heal the wounds they’d carried.
"I don’t know what happens next," Matt whispered, his voice barely audible, a tremor of uncertainty slipping through.
"Neither do I," Mike replied, squeezing his hand gently. "But we’ll figure it out. Together."
And as they sat there, side by side in the fading light, a quiet understanding passed between them. They didn’t need to know the future; they only needed to know that they had each other, and that was enough. For now, they could let the world fade away, and just be.