It had been two days since she'd woken up, and Dylan still felt like she couldn't get enough to eat. In fact, the hunger and a bit of accompanying lethargy had been the only way she'd known she'd been out at all. All in all, it still seemed entirely strange to her, but she didn't see any reason to worry about it yet
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It was normal seeing Dylan sitting in front of their hut, normal to call that hut home, and normal to not really think about what just was.
John was sweaty and tired out from patrols, council meetings and pyramid, but he didn't even think about heading straight inside to clean up and/or pass out. He sat down next to Dylan instead, and didn't think about what her imagining the island as normal over the weekend meant. She was okay, and that was all that mattered. Mostly.
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His mouth quirked up when he handed the cup back, and tried to think of when Dylan wasn't eating since she'd woken up. "At least you got to miss the creepy fog this time." It wasn't anywhere near what he knew they had to talk about, but John wasn't in any rush to.
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Even with as relaxed as the both of them appeared, there was a thread strung between them, drawn taught, and Dylan hated not knowing what was causing it, but didn't dare hazard a guess, not yet. They spent a lot of time talking to each other, about other people, about things, about the incomprehensibility of the island, but they didn't dare broach that most frightening topic of Us or We.
And so she waited to see if whatever bee was in John's bonnet was enough to make him spit it out.
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