Hi! This is my first ever "Until Dawn" fan fiction. I wanted a good ending for Josh, and though I haven't played the game myself, I have watched plenty of people play it. I've pleaded with the gods above that Josh (my favourite character I might add) would get a happy ending...Yeah. So that didn't happen. Not exactly anyway. -_-

However, one had to wonder, what would have happened had someone been there for Josh before the whole Wendigo and Psychopath thing happened? What if there was a Butterfly effect that lead Chris to be there for Josh and find out that not everything is as it seemed?

WARNINGS: Set before the events of Until Dawn. Pre-Slash/Slash. MxM CHRIS/JOSH in later chapters. Trigger warning! This story involves cutting. Slight spoilers. Every character other than the Wendigo's will be involved, or should be at least ;) You'll also find mistakes with my writing. Eh, what can I say? ¬¬ I'm certainly no professional.

Disclaimer: I do NOT own anything to do with Until Dawn. If I did, things would have turned out much differently.

One final note before you begin; not everything is as it seems...

The Butterfly Effect. Chapter 1: Cut...

Darkness covered the entirety of Blackwood Pines Mountain; even the normally bright, enchanting silver moon was masked by shadows from greying clouds above. The only sound was that of the wind which was blowing so strong it forced trees to rock back and forth – making some even fall down in protest.

A lone, blood red butterfly fluttered its large wings against the movement of the hurricane-like air. Using all its strength so it wouldn't get blown away from its current direction, the creature flapped rapidly.

The Butterfly finally landed upon a snow covered windowsill, and ever so gently it stretched out its crimson coloured wings that stuck out more due to the pure, untouched, white background it was perched on.

With its antennae's twitching, it looked for all the world as though it was peering inside the window that it was resting on.

It showed the only room in the Blackwood Pines Lodge that had a light on. Though it did flicker now and then, with the storm brewing outside it was explainable, it was still clearly seen as the bathroom.

A young male, around the age of 20, was sitting in nothing but his boxers by the side of the tub which was filled with water that was neither clean nor dirty. He had a lost look in his eyes as he stared into nothingness…

Blood slowly slide down his right arm that came from small gases. Multiple where located all the way from his elbow to the top of his wrists, messily made with former blurred eyes that were coursed from a build-up of unshed tears that now fell with the blood.

His hand lay practically lifeless in the once warm water, and the line of crimson continued to slide down his arm until it reached his fingertips.

Drip…Drip…Drip…

The blood dropped into the bath, infecting its water with a watercolour of red.

After so long of staring at nothing, lost in thought, the short, brown haired boy seemed to jump awake even though his eyes had never been shut. Taking hold of a nearby towel, he moved his arm away from the tub, watching as droplets of his own blood hit against the tiled floor – he slowly wrapped his self-inflicted wound up.

He was so use to this action, he did it all sub-consciously; stopping the bleeding, cleaning the cuts, placing them in bandages and throwing away the blood covered towel to hide the evidence.

Once he was done, he pulled the plug, silently watching as all his pain was sucked down the drain as though it had never happened in the first place.

Making sure the floor no longer wore crimson, he cleaned that too before finding himself in front of the bathroom mirror. His reflection stared back at him, laughing at him, calling him pathetic, ugly and a waste of space. A coward. Useless. Weak. A disgrace.

He shook his head, trying to stop the reflections words, grasping at his curly-top hair and thrashing about – until finally – the mirror shattered and the lights went out. The only thing to be heard from the bathroom was crying.

And then the Butterfly flew away…

"So you think that it's right to hurt yourself?"

There was no verbal answer, only a simple nod.

"And you enjoy hurting yourself?"

There was a long, pregnant pause. "It makes me feel real…"

The other scrunched up his face. "It makes you feel real? That's why you cut yourself?"

"…Yes…"

"Joshua Washington," he addressed the other male seriously. "Are you still taking the pills I gave you?"

"Uh-huh," Josh nod again, his eyes anywhere but making contact with his therapist – Dr Hill.

"Do you think they're helping?"

Josh nervously rubbed his hands against the leg of his jeans. "They make me sleepy and confused…"

"Ah," the older man chuckled a little as he reached over and took Josh's hand in his own, making the younger try to tug away but it was no good. "These pills are to help you forget, don't you want that, Joshua?"

"I-I…"

"Of course you want to forget. Everyone does. After all, it's all your fault that your sisters died that night, isn't it?"

"No," Josh protested shaking his head to try and rid the blame from his mind. "It wasn't my fault, it wasn't anyone's fault-!"

"Shh, shhhh," Dr Hill smoothed. He ran his thumb over the pulse of Josh's wrist, his other hand gracing the younger's face – not giving him a chance to pull away as he took a strong hold of Josh's neck so hard it bruised. "Everyone knows it was your fault, Joshua."

Feeling his eyes burn with the familiar sting of tears, Josh tried his hardest not to cry but it was no good.

A sudden ringing struck out and Dr Hill pulled away with a satisfied smile on his face. "Well, I'm afraid that's all the time we have for this session, Joshua. Not to worry, we will talk again very soon. Until then, I'm upping your dose, be sure to take them an hour before out next meeting."

With that, he stood from his chair and wondered over towards a large, closed window that over looked most of Blackwood Pines.

Josh stood up from his own chair and spared a final look at the Doctor before walking outside into the freezing cold air that greeted him.

That was the second meeting of so many more…

The cable car screeched to a sudden halt and almost made its single occupant fall flat on his face.

"They really need to get a new one of these…" Chris said to himself once the doors began to slide open and he strolled out. "I swear this mountain gets bigger every time I'm here."

He grumbled as he stretched out his arms and legs before pulling his mobile phone out of his bag that was slung over his shoulder. Scrolling through his apps, he clicked on his emails and frowned once he saw he didn't have a signal to actually look at any.

With a sigh of complaint, he rolled his eyes and instead tapped on his messages, wondering briefly whether or not he should text the man he had come all the way to Blackwood Pines for.

Josh's name lay under his thumb yet he didn't press it.

After a few emails to his best friend, Chris knew something was wrong but didn't know what, and thus decided that he had to make a trip up the mountain…Even if he happened to neglect not telling the 20 year old who was currently staying at the Lodge, alone.

Chris figured that Josh could do with a nice surprise, and it was him, so Josh wouldn't mind…would he?

After the young Washington had dropped out of college, he had spent most of his time up at the Lodge, away from anything remotely normal. Everyone of their group of friends had tried to get him to come down, but no matter what they did, it didn't work.

Chris couldn't blame him. After his sisters…He hadn't been right, not that anyone would after hearing the news, but –call him selfish- he wanted his best friend back.

'Josh…'

Walking to the Lodge was a lot harder than Chris ever remembered. The snow was thick and stuck to his boots, weighing him down the closer he got to his destination. The air was strong and practically blew him back down the mountain!

What was worst, was there seemed to be a storm heading on its way to the Lodge and it was ice cold – making him dither from the chill of the night.

"Oh, there is a god!" Chris spoke with delight when he caught sight of the extremely large Lodge. "Find Josh, get warm, take a shower and go to bed – that sounds like a plan."

The self-proclaimed Joke-Master rushed up the stairs and knocked on the door. He waited. And waited. Yet nothing happened. No footsteps; no nothing.

"Josh?" Chris' voice was pretty much lost to the wind. Still nothing. "Hey buddy, you there?"

The blonde tried the door a few more times but it was locked.

"Okay…" Turning around, he made his way back down the steps and was about to head around back to see if there was another way in, but he stopped dead in his tracks once he noticed a lone figure who was carrying an axe plus some chopped wood.

"Josh," he mustn't have spoken loud enough because the other didn't look up. The smile that was on Chris' face from spotting his friend faded as quickly as it came.

Josh looked like hell. His once beautiful, sparkling orbs were dimmed with sadness and a deep depression. Dark circles lay under his eyes that looked red and puffy like he had been…crying?

'Wait,' Chris thought. 'Is that a bruise?!'

It was dark out, and he was wearing glasses, but even he could see the yellow and purple bruise that was forming by the base of his neck. It was almost covered by his body warmer, but not completely.

What the hell happened to his best friend?

"Josh?!"

The dark haired beauty practically jumped out of his skin, dropping both the axe and wood to the snowy ground with a thump. He looked scarred and frightened –so frightened- it broke Chris' heart.

However, the smile that bloomed across Josh's face once he realised that it was Chris who was there washed every other thought from the blondes head…

Well, it's honestly up to you guys now. If you want more of this story then please feel free to review, favourite and/or follow. Even Pm if you want. Just let me know if you want this continued. And I'll update tomorrow or even later tonight if you do want to see where this goes. :) Cheers for reading!

{Update} This story was called "The Butterfly Effect," as it goes with the cover. However, I've been told I'm copying another person's title. And to keep the peace I've changed mine, because...well, it's a title. I'm not changing the cover art because I worked too hard on that one ;) So from now on this story will be called "The Papilio Effect," which is pretty much the same except I'm using Latin for 'Butterfly.'