Confrontation sucks
Chance's POV:
Chance stared at his reflection in the small, cracked mirror, the lingering haze of his dream clinging to him like a second skin.
His body still felt warm, his lips tingling like they had actually been kissed.
Like Guest had actually touched him, held him, whispered to him in that low, desperate voice.
He exhaled sharply, gripping the edge of the wooden dresser.
- Get a grip.
It wasn't real. It was just a dream. A cruel joke played by his subconscious, forcing him to confront something he wasn't ready for.
But the worst part?
It felt real. Too real.
The way Guest had said his name. The press of his hands. The heat of his breath. The salt of his skin.
Chance clenched his fists.
Fuck.
His pulse pounded, his fingers twitching at his sides. He needed to shake this.
He needed distance.
Breakfast was too quiet
The usual morning banter was gone, replaced by the occasional scrape of a fork against a plate. No laughter. No idle chatter. Just thick, suffocating silence.
Chance ate a bit of his food. He was hyper-aware of every movement Guest made across the table.
A glance. Just one.
Guest looked... drained.
Not the normal exhaustion of their work, but something heavier. His jaw was tight, shoulders tense, like something was pressing down on him.
Their eyes met.
Chance's breath caught.
A second. Onefleeting second.
Something passed between them-something-before Guest looked away, going back to his food like nothing had happened.
Chance swallowed hard.
I'm losing it.
- "Youshould eat, friend... You'll be hungry."
Elliot nudged Chance's plate slightly, offering a small smile. A quiet, concerned attempt to help.
Before Chance could respond, C00lkidd's voice cut through the room.
? - "LET'S PLAY TAG!! I'M IT, I'M IT!"
Guest pushed back his chair, stretching as he stood. He hadn't touched his food at all. Maybe that was why C00lkidd had called him-maybe the kid had noticed something none of them had.. And his father was probably busy with something..
Guest ruffled the C00lkidd's hair before following him outside.
Chance exhaled slowly, rubbing a hand down his face.
He wasn't hungry anymore.
Later that day, chance was outside.. Flipping the coin through his fingers
The crisp air did little to cool the heat burning beneath his skin.
- "You're quiettoday."
Chance stiffened.
Guest.
He turned his head slightly. Guest stood beside him, hands shoved in his pockets, his expression unreadable. But there was something... off.
Chance scoffed, still catching his breath from running around with C00lkidd.
- "That so? Maybe I'm just enjoyingthe peace andquiet."
Guest let out a small, humorless huff.
- "Bullshit."
The word landed heavier than it should have.
Chance clenched his jaw, gripping the coin tighter.
- "What do youwant, soldierboy?"
Guest didn't answer immediately. Instead, he leaned against the railing, staring at the treeline. The silence stretched, thick with something unspoken.
Then, finally-
- "Didn't sleepmuchlastnight."
Chance's stomach twisted.
- "Yeah? Welcome to the club."
Another pause.
Guest shifted slightly. Then, finally, he turned, locking eyes with Chance.
There was something raw in his gaze. Something haunted.
Chance frowned.
- "Whathappened?"
Guest exhaled sharply through his nose, running a hand down his face. He didn't answer right away.
When he finally spoke, his voice was lower, rougher.
- "Dreamtaboutthewar."
Chance stilled.
Guest never talked about the war.
Not like this.
Guest let out a humorless chuckle, shaking his head.
- "Samedream I always have. Sand, heat, thesoundofgunfire. Wewereoutnumbered. We always are."
He paused. Swallowed.
- "I heartheirvoices first. My squad. Screaming. Then I seethem-piecesofthem."
Chance felt his stomach churn.
Guest's voice dropped lower.
- "I turn my head, and there youare. Bleeding out in thedirt. Reachingforme. Calling my name."
Chance's grip on the railing tightened.
He didn't know what to say to that.
Guest huffed out a shaky breath, rubbing at his temple.
- "Everydamntime, I can't reachyou."
Chance swallowed, throat dry.
Shit.
This was different. This wasn't just another nightmare. This was personal.
- "I was never even there." His voice was quiet.
Guest finally looked at him, something heavy in his gaze.
- "I know." A beat. "Doesn't change a damn thing."
Chance's chest ached.
This wasn't about logic. This wasn't about what had happened. It was about what could have.
It was about fear.
And, maybe, something more.
- "It was just a dream, soldierboy."
Guest exhaled, slow and measured.
- "Yeah." Another pause. "So was yours... Everyone here gets dreams for some reason.."
Chance's breath caught.
For a second, neither of them moved.
Guest's eyes flickered-down to Chance's hands, to the coin still flipping between his fingers. Then back up.
A silent understanding passed between them.
Neither of them had slept.
Neither of them wanted to admit why.
Chance forced a smirk, rolling the coin over his knuckles.
- "Guess that makes us even."
Guest huffed, shaking his head.
- "Not even close."
But he didn't walk away.
And neither did Chance.Here's the
The silence stretched between them, thick and charged.
Chance kept flipping his coin, the motion steady, methodical-something to focus on other than the weight in Guest's gaze.
- "If dreams are part of the deal here, guess we're all screwed."
Guest huffed out a humorless breath, his fingers tightening in his pockets.
- "Yeah. Seems that way."
For a moment, neither of them said anything. The wind rustled through the trees, a crisp bite in the air, but Chance barely felt it.
Guest was still staring at him, still looking at him like he was something fragile, like he could break.
Chance hated it.
- "I'm fine."
Guest's jaw tensed.
- "I didn't ask."
Chance scoffed, shaking his head.
- "Could've fooled me, soldier boy."
Guest sighed, rubbing a hand down his face.
- "I just-" He cut himself off, exhaling sharply through his nose. "Forget it."
He pushed off the railing like he was about to walk away.
But something in Chance's chest twisted-something that made his grip on the coin tighten, something that made the words slip out before he could stop them.
- "I dreamt about you."
Guest stilled.
Slowly, carefully, he turned back.
Chance clenched his jaw, regretting the words already, but there was no taking them back now.
Guest studied him, quiet, unreadable.
- "Yeah?"
Chance forced himself to meet his gaze.
- "Yeah." He flicked the coin up, caught it between his fingers. "Not like yours."
Guest didn't move, didn't even blink.
Chance exhaled, running a hand through his hair.
- "It wasn't a nightmare."
That was the worst part.
Guest's brows furrowed, just slightly, but he stayed silent, waiting.
- "It was just... different."
The words felt heavy on his tongue, like they didn't quite fit.
Guest's fingers twitched at his sides.
- "Different how?"
Chance hesitated.
Too close. This was too close.
- "Doesn't matter."
He turned away, gripping the railing.
Guest didn't move.
- "It matters if it's messing with you."
Chance let out a short, sharp laugh.
- "Messing with me? You think a dream is messing with me?"
Guest didn't answer right away.
When he did, his voice was quieter, more careful.
- "I think you haven't looked me in the eye since breakfast."
Chance went still.
He didn't have a comeback for that.
The wind carried the silence between them, thick and heavy.
- "It was just a dream." His voice was steadier than he felt.
Guest's gaze lingered, searching, like he was trying to see through the cracks.
Then, finally-
- "If you say so."
He turned, heading back toward the cabin.
Chance let out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding, pressing his fingers to his temple.
He should've left it at that. Should've let Guest walk away.
But before he could stop himself-
- "Hey."
Guest paused, glancing back.
Chance hesitated, then flicked the coin into the air.
- "You ever win, soldier boy?"
Guest raised an eyebrow.
- "At what?"
Chance caught the coin, rolling it between his fingers.
- "Tag."
A beat of silence.
Then-
Guest huffed, shaking his head, a ghost of a smirk tugging at his lips.
- "Kid's too fast." he said.. It was clear he let C00lkidd win so he wouldn't feel bad
Chance snorted, finally-finally-letting himself smile.
- "Guess you'll have to keep trying."
Guest studied him for a second longer. Then, with a small nod, he turned and disappeared into the cabin.
Chance exhaled, flipping the coin one last time.
It landed in his palm, cold and solid.
Heads.
He wasn't sure if that was good or bad.