𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐋 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋

𝕖𝕡𝕚𝕝𝕠𝕘𝕦𝕖

 The medical machinery beeped loudly at your bedside, creating a steady rhythm that you idly tapped your fingers to. As soon as Dewey rescued you from the Macher's house, you and a gravely-wounded Randy were quickly escorted to Woodsboro General Hospital via ambulance.

He was immediately rushed away into surgery to treat his gaping chest wound and in the meantime, you had a few X-rays done. Apparently, when you fell off the balcony, you not only fractured your ankle but bruised a few of your ribs as well. 

Other than that, you only had a regular amount of emotional trauma to show for your wild night.

Nurses rushed in and out throughout the night, checking your vitals and offering you new pain medications. Sometimes they even wheeled in carts of nasty-smelling food for you to pick and choose from. Armed officers stood on either side of the door to your room, making sure the only people who approached you were the approved faculty and close friends.

Word of what transpired at the party spread like wildfire. The hospital staff considered moving you up to the second-floor because so many journalists kept jumping the fence to snap pictures of you through the window. But instead, they just decided to increase security for the sake of both the visitors and the other patients.

After you got the cast put on your ankle, Dewey sat down with you and filled in the gaps of your story. Sidney had been found dead by her father right around the time Billy and Stu made their great escape. She had been stuffed underneath her mattress, body in the same shape Casey Becker's had been in just one week prior. Tatum was also found hanging from the half-open garage door, nearly decapitated. 

Randy and you were the only survivors of what was quickly becoming known as the Woodsboro Massacre.

Two sturdy knocks sounded and you looked up from your book to see Dewey standing in the half-open doorway. He had barely left your side after rescuing you a few hours ago. The doctors had to pull him out of the room when you went to go get your X-ray done. He felt enormously guilty because he fell for Stu's fake tip that lured him away from the house. Despite your efforts, he still wasn't convinced that what happened to you probably would have happened either way.

You smiled as he sat down on the chair beside your bed, taking off his uniform cap and wringing it in his hands. "How're you feeling?" He asked for what could have possibly been the millionth time. With a shrug, you leaned into your rock-hard pillows and placed your book back down on the nightstand. "Like I fell off the roof."

Dewey chuckled. It was the first time he had cracked a smile since you arrived at the hospital. "Any news?" You asked, trying to steer away the topic from your condition. Despite your intentions, his smile fell even further and he squeezed his hat tighter in his lap. "They found Loomis's car abandoned under the freeway. The engine was still warm so they couldn't have gotten far."

When the police first questioned you a few hours ago, you told them everything that the boys told you. The kidnapping, the safe house, the car, the motive. But when they asked where exactly the safehouse was, you felt compelled to lie. A small, sick and twisted part of you hoped that Stu was serious when he said he was going to come back for you. But then again, you were also terrified of that exact same thing.

"That's good," you said. Another lie. Dewey looked up from his hands and bit the inside of his cheek. His eyes were brimming with an unfathomable sadness and when he made eye contact with you, it was like he was looking right through you. It was hard to forget that he had lost his baby sister that night as well. "I'm really sorry about Tate," you whispered shakily, not completely trusting your voice.

He shook his head with a sad smile. "If I had a dollar every time I heard that today..."

You sighed and looked down at your lap, playing with the frayed end of the blanket. Dewey cleared his throat and unfurled his hat, tossing it right back onto his head and tugging it down over his forehead. "But it means something from you. Thank you."