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the day that was

Summary:

Nothing about today is making any sense, but surprisingly it's not the zombies that are the weird part.

It’s just Dieter.

Or, Dieter experiences the days that aren’t, and Vanderohe experiences the day that was.

Notes:

Anyone still here?

Time loop fic with a twist, baby!

Hope you enjoy! :)

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Something is up with Dieter.  

Vanderohe can’t help but notice the tension in Dieter’s stance while they’re reviewing the plans for the heist the morning of, the way that he’s staring down Martin with pure fury. The Dieter he’s seeing today is not the Dieter he encountered for the first time yesterday. The one from 24 hours ago was lively, and ignorant in a begrudgingly endearing way, but the one in front of Vanderohe today looks... absolutely exhausted to the core, more rugged and detached. There is no light behind his eyes when he interacts with any of the crew, there is none of his enthusiasm for the Götterdämmerung that he had before. Every time he talks to Vanderohe it’s like he’s just going through the motions, an actor in a play reciting his lines, which bothers him a lot more than he cares to admit. Not knowing what’s going on with Dieter is driving Vanderohe up the fucking wall, because this is not a job that anyone can be sloppy on.   

He tells Scott and Maria as much in private, wondering about the safecracker, but they’re both preoccupied with too many other things, Kate, their obliviousness to each other’s feelings, and the fear of imminent death included.  

It’s up to me, Vanderohe decides.  

He pulls Dieter aside to teach him basic combat, how to shoot, hoping to give him a fighting chance, but Dieter surprises him with the ease in which he takes out the makeshift targets. Vanderohe can’t help but comment, “Not bad for your first time,” hoping to encourage Dieter, but instead, his face crumbles, and he looks entirely defeated. Dieter flicks the safety on and returns the gun to Vanderohe, says under his breath, “Let’s call it beginner’s luck,” then leaves him behind. 

Vanderohe is absolutely baffled, but he lets Dieter go anyway, figuring that the full gravity of the situation is starting to hit him. He’ll let him sort his own shit out for now, unless it becomes a problem. Either way, Dieter is ready for the bus when it arrives, and that’s what matters.  

Dieter boards the bus after him, and he can’t figure out why it stings when he chooses to sit alone at the front, with his back to Vanderohe.  

When they get to the Quarantine zone and the Coyote is introduced by Kate, Vanderohe notices Dieter walk right up to her while everyone else is distracted with suiting up. Vanderohe should honestly be making sure Dieter is equipped too, since he’s pretty sure Dieter is about to become his responsibility when they make it through the walls, but he watches from afar instead. The Coyote is obviously on the defensive, but Dieter must say something that gets her to listen, because her eyes widen in alarm. He wishes he was close enough to hear, because he’s so intrigued by how her face shifts from surprise, to anger, to confusion, then careful resignation at Dieter’s words.  

What the fuck is he saying to her?  

Either way, once Dieter’s done with his spiel, she nods her head skeptically. 

And honestly, Vanderohe’s pretty fucking pissed off, because he already doesn’t trust Martin, but now he’s not sure what Dieter has up his sleeve either, and that makes him uneasy, considering that Dieter is the most important member of their team, and they’re all betting their fucking lives on him succeeding in his role.  

When Dieter gets up to him and Chambers, Vanderohe decides to call him out.  

“What are you plotting, Dieter?”  

“No plotting, Mr. Vanderohe. I would like us all to survive today in one piece, that is all.”  

That answer doesn’t reassure him in the slightest, so he gives Dieter a look that says, I have my eye on you, and Scott interjects, “Dieter, try not to piss Van off,” Chambers smirking in response.  

Dieter doesn’t get a chance to respond though, because Vanderohe hears a loud commotion a moment later. The Coyote successfully dodges the punch Kate comes right out of the gate with, Scott pulling Kate back a moment later before she can go in for more. They fight verbally, something about the Coyote smuggling in Kate’s friend that had children, then Scott and Kate get into it when she insists on joining the heist. Vanderohe doesn’t really care honestly, he already has one person to look out for, but that person is currently being stared down by the Coyote with the most bewildered look Vanderohe has ever seen on another person’s face. She looks like she’s actually seen a fucking ghost, and Dieter is looking back at her with a look that Vanderohe can’t decipher. Vanderohe notices that the Coyote shifts her eyes over to a nearby quarantine zone officer heckling some poor people, but Dieter shakes his head no, and she nods tersely. 

What the fuck is going on?   

Dieter turns to Vanderohe with his hand outstretched. Vanderohe stares at his hand for a moment, confused at everything that’s happened in the last few minutes, until Dieter fucking reaches into a compartment on Vanderohe’s belt containing his favorite knife, because how the fuck did he know that was there? He’s too shocked to even react to Dieter’s close proximity, doesn’t make any move to stop him, because Dieter says, “Auf Wiedersehen, Mr. Vanderohe, I am dead without this,” and then he turns and walks away with his knife.  

And Vanderohe feels a rush of déjà vu come over him at Dieter’s choice of words.  

“He’s certainly a character, isn’t he,” he hears Chambers mutter under her breath, and Vanderohe can’t help but agree.  

They make it into the storage containers, ready to open the doors, and Vanderohe is about to tell Dieter to get behind him, but Dieter is already moving before the words even leave his mouth, and his brain only hurts worse when Dieter whispers, “Sorry, I almost forgot,” like they’ve done this before.  

Nothing about today is making any sense, but surprisingly it's not the zombies that are the weird part.  

It’s just Dieter.  

Dieter seems completely unfazed by the fucking zombie tiger they see, by the shamblers stuck in a mass of horrifying melted remains, doesn’t ask nearly enough questions for someone who’s never been in zombie infested Las Vegas before. Vanderohe knows he doesn’t actually know Dieter at all, but he feels like the Dieter he met yesterday would be showing something on his face other than impassiveness, because this Dieter lacks every bit of charisma that Vanderohe feels like he should have.  

And then Vanderohe sees the fucking weirdest, most unexplainable thing he’s ever witnessed, between Dieter and the alpha female, when she emerges.  

When she crouches on the roof of the car, Dieter doesn’t even attempt to hide from the zombies, still standing strong. The alpha shrieks, looks at each and every one of them, until finally landing her sights on Dieter. Vanderohe feels his protective side kicking in, and he puts his hand on Dieter’s middle to push him back and shield him from her gaze, but Dieter doesn’t stand down.  

The alpha jumps off the car and stands up straight. It’s undeniable that she’s looking right into Dieter’s fucking soul at this point, and everyone else is starting to notice it too. Vanderohe is shocked at how absolutely batshit insane Dieter sounds when he addresses the alpha directly, 

“Do we have an understanding?”  

But then she nods.   

What. The. Fuck.   

She and the other alpha leave, heading back towards the Olympus. Vanderohe only just manages to hold himself back from knocking some fucking sense into Dieter himself when Martin has attempted to beat him to it, a sucker punch flying through the air towards Dieter’s face, but Dieter fucking dodges it before Vanderohe realizes what’s happening.    

Vanderohe may be unsure of Dieter, but he still does not trust Martin, and Dieter is his fucking responsibility, so he and Scott pull Martin away from Dieter quickly, holding him back while he yells. Vanderohe only just barely catches Dieter whispering to himself, “This hasn’t happened this early before,” before Martin drowns him out by screaming, “What the fuck are you up to!? What the fuck was that!?” 

And Dieter looks capable, in every sense of the word, in a way that Vanderohe has never seen in another person before. It chills him to the bone, to see the contempt and fury behind Dieter’s eyes. He stands tall and unwavering when he replies calmly,  

That was me securing our futures, Martin. You would be wise to leave me alone, unless you’d like me to expose you for your despicable plan and how quickly you’re willing to dispose of us.”  

Martin isn’t struggling in their hold as much anymore, shocked by Dieter’s words.  

“Excuse me? You little-”  

“I fucking knew it!” Chambers interrupts, “That fucker is up to something. I don’t trust him,” Chambers raises her gun to Martin, Guzman pulling his up too to have her back.  

“Don’t waste your bullets on him. His time will come.” Dieter says firmly.  

“What the fuck are you on about kid? You gonna prophesize the impending flood waters next?” Peters asks sarcastically.  

“According to triage, I am the most important, with you in second Peters, but Martin is valuable in his own way. I need him alive,” and Vanderohe swears he sees a flash of something on Peters face when Dieter speaks to her, some form of déjà vu or recognition or something that Vanderohe has to remember to ask her about later, because he knows he’s not the only one wondering what the fuck happened to Dieter between yesterday and today.  

The Coyote cuts through any opportunities to question Dieter, explains that they need to go inside the buildings now that they’ve been granted safe passage, and Dieter is the first to start walking. Chambers, Guzman, Lilly, Kate, and Peters follow Dieter, but Vanderohe turns to Scott and Maria still standing still in disbelief, asks them, “Now do you fucking believe me that something’s up with him?” and they both nod. 

“You’re really going to listen to that fucking nutcase over me? He’s a liability, he’ll get you all killed.” Martin sneers at them. Scott and Vanderohe release his arms, and he rotates his shoulders in annoyance.  

“You don’t touch him. You don’t talk to him. Matter of fact, don’t even think about thinking about him,” Vanderohe grinds out.  

And then he punches Martin in the face, because seriously, fuck this guy.  

Vanderohe really doesn’t get why he feels so protective of Dieter, doesn’t understand why he’s trusting his words so much, but he knows that everyone else can feel it too, their guts saying to believe Dieter, to do what he says. That perhaps Dieter has been privy to some unseen storm about to rain hell upon them, that he’s keeping them safe, a proverbial prophet guiding them to salvation, even if Vanderohe doesn’t understand it.  

Dieter understands it, and that is enough.  

The group moves on, Guzman and Chambers pointing out the hibernating shamblers inside first with exclamations of glee. Vanderohe tries to get Dieter to go ahead of him, but he insists that Vanderohe go first. He relents, but before he gets too far, he can hear Dieter saying to Martin behind him, “You go last, arschloch,” Chambers snickering too.  

When they get to the casino Scott instructs them to split up. Dieter looks towards Martin, and Martin mocks, “What? Your crystal ball didn’t tell you what to do next?”  

Vanderohe wants to put Martin in his place, but then Dieter pulls out a keycard from his pocket, and judging by Martin’s dumbfounded expression and frantic hands grasping at his chest, it must be his own.  

Dieter asks him in return, “This should get me inside, yes?” with a smirk on his face. 

Vanderohe goes to make his way to the basement with Dieter, Guzman, and Chambers, while the others split up to complete their own tasks, but before they do, Vanderohe sees Dieter pull the Coyote off to the side, whispering in her ear again and her nod in answer.  

During the elevator ride Vanderohe gently pushes Dieter behind him on instinct, Guzman taking up the spot next to him, forming a defensive wall upon whatever waits beyond the door. Chambers leans against the opposite side wall, openly eyeing Dieter until Vanderohe sees Dieter turn to stare back at her out of the corner of his eye.  

Guzman teases, “Like what you see, Chambers?” motioning his head towards Dieter, and Chambers scoffs at him in response, says, “Haven’t decided yet.”  

“Catching on, aren’t you?” Dieter asks wittingly, but Vanderohe doesn’t have time to unpack what that comment could possibly mean, because the elevator dings!   

When the doors open, they make quick work of the zombies inside the basement. Dieter turns and expertly takes out the shambler they all missed on their way in off to his left, then nails the bride directly in the eye, taking her out with one shot.  

“Am I zombie-killing material yet, Mr. Vanderohe?”  

Dieter looks so confident when he locks eyes with Vanderohe, and he doesn’t know how he could be any more surprised at anything Dieter does today, but he keeps adding to this mountain of evidence that there is a lot more than meets the eye to their safecracker.  

Vanderohe feels like he’s gaining a new understanding into Dieter at this moment, understands his passion, wants to unravel the mystery behind this man, what happened to him, crack him open and see the secrets locked inside.  

The moment ends when Dieter steps towards the safe and mutters under his breath, “Ah, Götterdämmerung, always a pleasure seeing you, my old friend,” then he looks to the side at the other skeletons laying around, and Vanderohe sees a flash of bone deep sadness in Dieter’s face, before he turns around and says, “We need to blow up this door. The key reader is broken.”  

Vanderohe starts setting the charges, and Chambers is willing to voice her theory about what’s going on, turns to Dieter and asks, “Why take the keycard from Martin at all?”  

Dieter shrugs, says passively, “I enjoy messing with him. I once watched you feed him to Valentine. That was fun,” then he turns to Vanderohe, continues, “Do you still believe that the skeletons are us in another life, Mr. Vanderohe?”  

He doesn’t know what to say in response, but Dieter doesn’t let him anyway, because he goes on, “The skeletons were here already, the first time. I don’t know how they got here; one mystery I’ve yet to unravel. But your theory about the time loop is correct, except Tanaka is not the puppet master. It isn’t God or the Devil, either.”  

Vanderohe’s breath leaves him suddenly, because he knows he’s said those words before, that they should've left his lips, and had they been in another timeline with a more easy-going Dieter, he might’ve said them again, but this Dieter is completely different from the man he met yesterday.  

“Am I the only one who doesn’t understand what the fuck is going on?” Guzman interrupts. 

“Don’t feel bad, I only somewhat understand,” Chambers reassures.  

Vanderohe’s fucking head hurts.  

Blowing the charges doesn’t help that in the slightest. 

Dieter lets Vanderohe act out his plan of using a zombie as bait to trip the traps, but he tells him to use the warmed-up hand first. Guzman wants to go upstairs, and Chambers follows him, but Vanderohe stays behind to watch over Dieter while he works.  

He’s pretty sure Dieter doesn’t need protecting, but it makes Vanderohe feel better to have a designated task while on a job, and he’s decided Dieter is his, so he stays.  

Vanderohe can’t stop staring at Dieter’s back and wondering about the events leading up to this moment. He has an idea of what is going on, but what he's imagining is impossible, right? There’s no way that Vanderohe’s tall tale is actually real, and that it’s happening to Dieter of all people. Everything about Dieter’s behavior should be setting off alarm bells in his head, telling him to run for the hills, but he feels inexplicably drawn to him like a moth to a flame.  

“I can feel you staring, Mr. Vanderohe.”  

Vanderohe sighs, runs a hand over his face in frustration, because Dieter fucking knows every single little thing about him, doesn’t he?  

He must have said some part of that out loud, hopefully with a lot less anger than he was feeling in his inner mantra, because Dieter turns around and levels him with a stare.  

“I don’t know how you take your coffee.”  

“What?”  

“How do you take your coffee?” Dieter says slowly, like Vanderohe is fucking dense, which he’s not, there’s just a lot going on right now, and he’s a little overwhelmed trying to unravel the truth. Dieter continues anyway, “The coffee is a peace offering, to prove that I do not know everything about you, Van. How do you take it?”  

Vanderohe is taken aback, because Dieter used his nickname, but he figures if Dieter has experienced this day a hundred times over, he must have asked a few questions to pass the time. He wonders if him and Dieter have had this exact conversation before, if he asks Vanderohe different questions every time, or if this whole scene is new, for both of them.  

Vanderohe was at his limit for weird shit the moment he saw the alpha queen fucking nod at Dieter, so who fucking cares at this point. He wants to know more about this anyway, so he’s willing to do a little give and take.  

“Most people assume I take it black, but I like a lot of sugar and cream. The sweeter, the better.” 

Dieter gives a small smile, and Vanderohe realizes this is the first time that any type of happiness has reached his eyes all day. He feels a bit guilty that he’s about to ruin it with the questioning, but he has to know.  

“Have we had this conversation before?”  

“Does it feel like we have?”  

Vanderohe considers the question. Some of the other phrases Dieter has said today have jogged very slight memories in his mind, hazy outlines of thoughts and sensations and Dieter’s words clouding his brain, but others haven’t done anything at all, these included.  

“No, it doesn’t. This feels... new.”  

Dieter nods, “The more cycles I go through, the more you all seem to remember from the previous ones. Getting each of you to believe me though, to understand what those locked memories mean- that has been its own challenge.”  

Vanderohe figures that some of the crew members are a given to be difficult- the Coyote comes to mind- while others would be easier, depending on how much they remembered of Dieter from previous timelines, but Vanderohe’s suddenly curious about the alternate versions of himself. Believing Dieter is not... difficult, per say, but the whole situation is still a lot to wrap his head around, and he knows that his willingness to believe Dieter now has no bearing on how his past selves have treated him.  

But it’s Dieter’s turn.  

“Do you know what is particularly frustrating, Mr. Vanderohe?” 

“No.”  

Dieter turns around to the safe with his arms crossed, says, “The four locks indicate that the safe has a rotating randomization mechanism- do you know what that means?”  

Vanderohe shakes his head no when Dieter glances over his shoulder, and then Dieter continues, “The code changes every time,” turns around completely and punctuates each word with his hand, “Every. Single. Time.” 

“Good old Tanaka,” and what a sick twist of irony that Dieter has lived this day over and over, with the one task he was brought on to accomplish being the only thing that changes every fucking day.   

“So how long does it take you to crack the safe?”  

“The first time?” Dieter waves his hand, “Much too long. Scott interrupted me and I had to try again.” 

“‘Too long’? We have all the time in the world, don’t we?”  

Dieter gives a mirthless laugh, and if Vanderohe is following what’s happening correctly, he sees the irony in his question too. Dieter does have all the time in the world, and that’s kind of the problem, isn’t it? 

“The bomb is going to move up 24 hours. I cracked it in time, but it didn’t matter. Martin sealed off our escape route. We didn’t stand a chance.”  

Vanderohe lets Dieter’s words soak in for a second, then he reiterates his question, “How long does it take you to open the safe now?”  

Dieter shrugs, “About 10 minutes. Guzman gets bored and comes back quicker if he’s alone, but if Chambers is alive it takes them longer to return,” he turns back around and continues working on the safe, then quietly asks, “Why did you accept this job, Van?” 

Vanderohe considers his answer for a long moment, because it’s much more of a heavy hitter than their previous questions. He's anxious about putting his truth out into the air, because the moment that the words leave his lips there’s no taking it back, but now, with Dieter’s back to turned to him, it’s easier, and if anyone has earned his confession, its him, because he deserves to know he’s not alone. 

“If anyone else were asking... the money, that’s the big reason. But I think everyone on this team would agree that you have to be a little fucked in the head to accept a job like this. Maybe a part of me missed the nitty gritty of the glory days- wanted to get my hands dirty again. Maybe a part of me was... totally okay with losing here, not making it out at all. High risk, high reward,” Vanderohe takes a deep breath in, continues, “But honestly? If I really had to pin down why I’m here- I wanted a chance to get catharsis. A chance to finally... move on from Vegas, leave what happened here behind. A chance for rebirth. Do you know what I mean? “  

Dieter’s back is still to Vanderohe, but he sees the hunch in his back, his head bowed, can easily imagine the far off, wistful look on Dieter’s face when he replies, “Yes, I understand that feeling, quite intimately.”   

Vanderohe feels too vulnerable with this mysterious man he barely knows, so he returns with a heavy hitter as well, “What happens after this, Dieter? You get to tomorrow- and then?”  

And he stills.  

After what must be a minute of agonizing silence Vanderohe can’t take it anymore, so he ventures Dieter? 

His voice feels much too abrasive in the stillness of the air.  

“I don’t know, truthfully,” Dieter straightens up, glances over his shoulder and makes eye contact for a moment before diverting his eyes.  

“I might have gone a bit mad at the beginning thinking about tomorrow. The aftermath. The ever illusive ‘after’. But I try not to concern myself with those questions of ‘what if?’ anymore. Focusing on solving one piece of the puzzle at a time- on one day at a time- has been my way to keep sane. It would be nice, to be in control again. But hope is cruel, Mr. Vanderohe.” 

Something about the way Dieter says it tears through Vanderohe’s heart, but Dieter is already moving on, turning back towards the safe to continue working and asking, “Do you remember anything?” 

“From- from the time loops?” and Dieter hums in confirmation.  

“It’s like... a dream. Some things have more clarity, like, I know I told you about the time loops first. But then other things, they’re foggier, and it’s just a feeling of déjà vu. I can’t grasp it, entirely, but I know that they happened. It feels like it happened to someone else, though.”  

Vanderohe hears the click of the safe unlocking, impressed that Dieter seems to have beaten his own guesstimate, but when he turns around again Vanderohe says, “It all happened to you though, didn’t it, Dieter.”  

And it’s not a question, really, but Dieter nods anyway, whispers I remember everything, and Vanderohe feels his heart breaking for this man that he’s only really known for two days now, but who probably knows him like the back of his hand, a hundred timelines, a million hours of trying everything under the sun to get this nightmare to just end under his belt.  

Vanderohe is quiet for a long moment, and then he builds up the courage to ask, “Why are you telling me this?”  

Dieter looks exhausted, tries to respond impersonally, “I am doomed to repeat my failures over and over again. This is either the last time, or it is not. You either remember, or you will not. It doesn’t matter what I say or do, it will happen again, or it will not,” but even still, Vanderohe knows when someone is putting on a brave face better than most.  

But Dieter lets the façade drop a bit a second later, shrugs and says openly, “But I always feel better, either way, when you believe me,” and then Dieter looks right into Van’s eyes when he asks, "Do you believe me, Mr. Vanderohe?”  

Somehow, the honest answer is yes, he does believe Dieter, even though he doesn’t understand it, so he nods, continues their game and takes his turn. 

“Who’s the puppet master, Dieter?” 

“Previously it was Zeus, the king. But this time, perhaps foolishly, I hope it is me.”  

Dieter gives Vanderohe a rueful smile that doesn’t meet his eyes at all, continues, “Do you like to read, Van?” to which Vanderohe nods in response. 

“Nietzsche said 'Hope, in reality, is the worst of all evils, because it prolongs the torments of man.’ Those words, when I was younger, did not make sense to me- not in any way that truly mattered. Perhaps they still would not have made sense to the version of me that you met yesterday, Mr. Vanderohe. But me? The one who stands before you now? I understand those words.”  

Vanderohe can’t possibly fathom allowing Dieter to believe that all is lost, and even though he realistically knows it's up to Dieter alone to get out of this twisted game, he helps in the only way he knows how.  

“Fate is a cruel mistress, but what do we have left if not hope, Dieter?”  

And Vanderohe can actually see the wash of something gracing Dieter’s features. 

It looks an awful lot like hope.  

But the elevator doors ding, and Scott’s voice carries across the hall, “Hey, Dieter. How’s that safe coming?” interrupting the moment between them, and Vanderohe witnesses Dieter’s walls going back up, his other persona coming to the forefront, the one in charge, the one acting out his lines perfectly, slowly building up his numbers of allies who believe him.  

“The only thing left is to turn the wheel,” then he gestures to the safe, “Mr. Vanderohe, would you do me the honor?”  

The déjà vu feeling returns, but Vanderohe wants to make this time different for Dieter, so he asks, “Do I always open it?”  

“Sometimes you don’t make it this far. Those times, I opened it myself.”  

Oh.  

Vanderohe didn’t think too hard about the fact that Dieter has definitely watched him die before. He knows, logically, that Dieter must be haunted by a lot more than just repeating the same day over and over, has probably witnessed unspeakable tragedies befall them, but hearing it out loud, said so matter-of-factly, is different. It sends a chill down his spine, but he shakes it off, that feeling and Scott’s perplexed stare at their conversation. 

“We open it together then.” 

Dieter actually smiles this time. It’s tiny, and closed lipped, like he’s too afraid to put it out into the world, but Vanderohe catches it nonetheless.  

“Mr. Ward, please call the rest of your team down. The bomb was just moved up 24 hours, yes? Let’s make haste.”  

Scott keeps staring at Dieter with an air of distrust around him. Everyone else joins them in the basement minus the Coyote and Martin, which makes Vanderohe uneasy, but Dieter is unbothered by this, so he tries to let it go. Dieter and Vanderohe make a show of opening the safe, and they all have a moment of respite at the sight of the money, the confirmation that it’s real, and that everything might actually be worth it, after all. They begin packing it up in the duffel bags they brought, laughing and reveling in their loot.  

“Hey, Vanny, where’s your head at now, bud?” 

"It’s in a good place, Scott.”  

Vanderohe glances over at Dieter, but he’s already pulled Maria to the side, addressing her privately. 

“Maria, I know what you want to confess. Believe me when I say I understand how you are feeling, but you will have another opportunity. There will be more time for you, but I am running out of it, for today. I do not want to repeat this for an eternity,” and Vanderohe sees this look that Maria gives Dieter, like she’s at a complete loss for words, but he knows Dieter is about to get her completely on his side when he stares her down and continues, “Forever is a long time.” 

What the fuck,” Maria whispers under her breath.  

“Join the club,” Vanderohe tells her.  

No one else has been paying attention to Dieter, preoccupied with the money, but then Dieter turns to Scott instead, probably the only person he hasn’t fully convinced yet, says plainly, “By now you have noticed that Kate is gone, but I know where she is. We’ll take the helicopter to the Olympus to get her back,” then he faces Maria again, “There is an armored military vehicle about 50 feet from the front doors of the casino. We won’t all fit in the helicopter with the money. You can get it started.”   

Maria nods wearily, makes to leave the room, but Vanderohe doesn’t get a chance to stop Scott before he grabs Dieter by the shirt and shoves him up against the vault wall.  

“What did you do with Kate, Dieter!?”  

“Scott, calm down man, he’s trying to help us!” Vanderohe puts a hand on Scott’s shoulder and tries to pull him back, Maria assisting, but Scott pushes them off easily, moving Dieter away from the wall and slamming him into it again, a scapegoat for his anger. Chambers, Guzman, Peters, Maria, and Vanderohe look on, but Dieter isn’t even attempting to defend himself from Scott’s strength in the slightest, his hands are limp at his side, and he instead calmly says,  

“Scott Ward, you are always the hardest to convince. I didn’t do anything to Kate; it is her own stubbornness and loyalty to her friend that compels her. I have never been successful in getting her to stay behind at the quarantine zone, nor can I stop her from going to the Olympus. She is like you, in that way, convinced by your own world view that you are correct, unable to see reality right in front of your nose. You are wrong about Kate and Maria, please consider that you are wrong about me.”  

Scott’s hands loosen on Dieter, and Vanderohe doesn’t think he’ll ever get tired of seeing the moment that the others start to believe him passing over their features. Van pulls Scott’s hands off of Dieter, successful this time, and they continue packing up the money, Vanderohe keeping an eye on Scott for any more outbursts. Maria leaves via a side ladder that Dieter directs her to, then backs the truck into the building, smashing the glass doors, making it easier when taking trips to and fro with the bags. They’re in the basement for a final time, about to take the last trip with the only two left, then the elevator doors ding.  

Vanderohe is surprised to see that the Coyote has a gun pointed at Martin’s head, and she kicks him to the ground when they come in through the elevator. He grunts in pain, curses at her. The Coyote speaks up, “This fucker told me his plan. He told me he’d let everyone out of the camps if I helped him.”  

Chambers asks, “I fucking knew it! What did he tell you?”  

But the Coyote looks at Dieter instead of answering herself, demands, “Tell them.”  

“Lilly, was he successful?” Dieter questions. 

“No. I stopped him; let her go. Tell them.”  

“Okay seriously, what the fuck is going on!? Chambers was trying to tell me about fucking- time travel or some shit? Come on, I know you understand what’s happening,” Guzman yells, brings his gun up and points it at Dieter’s chest.  

Vanderohe pulls out his own gun, then it becomes a full-on standoff, Scott, Maria, and Chambers pulling out their weapons and swinging wildly between the two sides, while Peters and the Coyote watch the scene unfold. 

“Mikey, put it down! Cut this shit out,” Chambers pleads. 

“What, you’re on his fucking side now too? I’m supposed to believe that he's the main bitch in Happy Death Day!? Seriously Chambers, what is going on!?”  

“Put the gun down, Guzman!” Vanderohe demands.  

“Not until he tells us what the fuck is happening!”  

“Tell them!” the Coyote calls out.  

And Vanderohe watches as Dieter steps closer to Guzman, until the muzzle of his gun is pressing up against the center of his chest, effectively scaring the shit out of Vanderohe, but Guzman still doesn’t pull the trigger, freaked out by Dieter’s complete lack of self-preservation, and then Dieter states, “By the way, Mikey Guzman, I love your hair.”  

The tension in Guzman’s entire body peaks, then releases all at once on an exhale, he lowers his weapon, and grits out in a horrified whisper, “You’ve said that before, haven’t you?”  

And Dieter nods, then finally, finally, addresses the entire group.  

“I am stuck in a time loop. I have re-lived this day more times than I can count. I have watched each and every one of you die in more and more cruel and sadistic ways, at the hands of each other, Martin, the shamblers, or Zeus, the king himself. I have rarely been successful in getting us this far, because Martin cuts off the head of the queen in almost every timeline. Tanaka sent Martin to collect the head, figuring himself some kind of God capable of raising an army of the dead, and Martin condemns us to death, every time, without mercy.”  

Dieter turns his head away from the group at large, glares at Martin as he speaks, the fury in his voice unmistakable, “You are the reason this is happening. Providence has brought you to me, and today, I am your executioner. Zeus unleashed Pandora’s Box upon us because of your transgressions, and I will offer you to him as penance.”  

Dieter motions his head towards Chambers when he addresses Guzman, “Zeus will be here soon. You two and Maria will drive the truck out with the money.”  

Guzman is still staring at Dieter with an awestruck expression, which Vanderohe relates to, because holy fuck, Dieter is a force to be reckoned with when he wants to be

“Oh man, you’ve got balls, kid. I like you,” Peters interrupts the tension, pokes the center of Dieter’s chest as she speaks, walks past the Coyote holding Martin hostage and presses the up arrow to the elevator, “I’ll be waiting on the roof for you guys to wise up and join me in getting the fuck out of here.”  

Vanderohe thinks he might see a hint of a smirk from Dieter directed towards Peters. 

But then Dieter gets right back to business, faces Guzman again, “You need to leave now,” and Chambers grabs Guzman’s shoulder, drags him towards the side ladder. They pick up the last two duffel bags on their way out, Maria following closely behind, calling out, “We are discussing this later, Dieter!” as she climbs. 

Goddamn kid, you’re more than just the crystal ball, you’re the whole fucking nuthouse, aren’t you?” Martin says in scorn. The Coyote is obviously tired of dealing with Martin’s shit, hits him hard on the back of the head, successfully knocking him out.  

Dieter ignores the scene, turns to Vanderohe instead, “Get to the roof, tell Peters to be prepared to leave at a moment’s notice.”  

Vanderohe is about to leave the basement, after the Coyote and Scott have started climbing already, but he realizes that Dieter isn’t making any moves to follow them up the ladder.  

“Dieter, come on.”  

“Please go. I’ll meet you on the roof.”  

Vanderohe scoffs, jumps back down, “I’m not leaving you down here alone.”  

But he stands firm, “I do not want you to see what must be done, Mr. Vanderohe.” 

“What? Come on, this is our out, let's go.” 

“No, not for me, not unless I do this. I have to fulfill my end of the bargain,” and Vanderohe can see that Dieter is starting to close off again, so he grabs Dieter’s upper arm, getting in his personal space and forcing him to meet his eyes and listen. 

“What are the terms, Dieter?”  

Dieter hesitates, looks away, and Vanderohe thinks he might have an idea of what it could be, pushes him, “I’m not letting you die here. If this is some self-sacrificing, bullshit scheme to keep the rest of us alive, it’s not fucking happening. We’ll try again, we’ll let the timer reset, there has to be another way.” 

Dieter shakes his head as he responds, “It is not my life that Zeus wants. A loss of humanity, yes, but my reward is the chance to live.”  

“Then what is it, Dieter? Is it not as simple as Martin for the queen?” he lowers his tone, gives Dieter a searching look, asks quietly, “An eye for an eye?”  

Dieter is silent for a long moment, tears spring to his eyes, and then he shakily whispers, “A head for a head, if you will.”  

A wave of understanding hits Vanderohe, and he is suddenly so upset for Dieter, that this is what must be done, because it isn’t fair. He doesn’t know why Zeus chose him, doesn’t understand why it has to be Dieter. And he doesn’t understand why Dieter, protective to a fault, with absolutely no sense of self-preservation, accepted the deal, is more worried about Vanderohe watching the act unfold than the fact that he has to do it at all, a horrifying, unspeakable, necessary evil to grant them escape. 

“You look at me with such sadness, Mr. Vanderohe, it wounds me,” Dieter places a hand on Vanderohe’s cheek, softly cradling his face, and he has that wave crash over him again, that feeling that this has happened before, then Dieter continues, “It’s alright, I have had a lot of time to come to terms with what must be done.”  

“Dieter, nothing about this is alright,” Vanderohe whispers, places his other hand on top of Dieter’s in return.  

“I know. Please do not watch. For me, Van,” and Vanderohe nods his head, because what else can he do but listen to a desperate man’s plea.  

“I wish you could have gotten to know the original me,” Dieter says quietly, and it’s like he’s looking right through Vanderohe, eyes far off and distant, and that won’t do, so Vanderohe does the only thing he can think of to bring him back, making up his mind all at once.  

He leans in to kiss him.  

There is a particular type of sadness that hits his heart when he gets the feeling of déjà vu again the moment that his lips press against Dieter’s, the feeling of this isn’t our first time hitting him, and fate is a cruel mistress indeed, because he will never truly remember the first time, will he?  

But he’s determined to not let this be their last time either, so he pulls back from the kiss to press his forehead against Dieter’s and say with conviction, “I am going to get to know you, Dieter, this version of you, because you’re gonna meet me on the roof in a few minutes, alright?” 

He releases his hold on his bicep to cradle Dieter’s face in his hands instead, continues, “You’re gonna do what has to be done, and I won’t watch- only because you don’t want me to, not because I don’t want to be here with you- and we’ll figure it out, together, after, okay? Because there will be an after.” 

Vanderohe feels the emotion rising in his throat, because fucking everything about this situation is fucked to hell and back, and he practically begs Dieter in a whisper please come back to me. Dieter nods with tears in his eyes, and Vanderohe leaves him in the basement, alone. And even though he knows, believes with all his heart, that Dieter will make it out of this, that he finally unraveled the mystery of how to escape his cherry-picked version of hell, the finality of the click of the rooftop door behind him doesn’t hurt any less.  

“Where’s the kid?” Peters asks Vanderohe, and he can’t even muster up an answer, clears his throat and wipes at his eyes when he tells her to have the chopper running so they can leave as soon as Dieter reaches the roof.  

Eventually, Dieter emerges. 

No one comments on his shell-shocked expression, the tremble of Vanderohe’s bloodied knife in his grasp, his gore covered shirt and pants, or the contrasting wash of bright blue smeared across his face. 

They make it to the Olympus hotel in silence.  

Dieter leads them to Kate and Geeta with ease, winding through the hallways like a man on a mission, the clock ticking against them. Scott is absolutely overjoyed when they find Kate, before he scolds her for leaving his sight, and they make their way back to the helicopter. They take out some rogue shamblers as they go, Vanderohe watching over Dieter, because Dieter doesn’t have that same air of confidence around him that he was subliminally boasting earlier, doesn’t know exactly where the zombies are going to come out of next. 

This is new for him. 

Vanderohe is suddenly curious, asks, “When does the timer reset, Dieter?”  

But Dieter shakes his head, “This is it.”  

And the pressure is on.  

The next few minutes are a blur of Dieter retracing their steps, Vanderohe leaning far into his protective side when some of the shamblers get too close to Dieter, even though he’s holding his own well enough, the Coyote and Scott taking up the rear and watching over Kate and Geeta, until they finally make it to the roof, Peters waiting for them. She’s signaling them on, and they make a mad dash for the open doors, because the horde is catching up to them, and Scott only just manages to jump on before Peters has to pull them away, overzealous zombies flying through the air after him, just barely missing him. 

Vanderohe can hear Dieter muttering to himself in German under his breath, even though it's nearly impossible to hear him over the roar of the helicopter blades. He wraps an arm around Dieter’s shoulders, trying to offer support, because Dieter is shaking, staring out the open doors in disbelief. Vanderohe turns his head to see what has Dieter so spooked. 

In the distance, he sees Zeus on the rooftop.  

He’s never seen Zeus before, not in this timeline, but he instantly recognizes who he is, the presence he commands unmistakable. Terrifying and proud, towering above his people, his kingdom, with the queen at his side. He’s looking right at them. He’s looking at Dieter. 

And Zeus nods.  

 

 

 

The bomb drops, well after they’ve left Las Vegas, but they’re still able to feel the shockwave far off, now that they’re on solid ground. As far as Vanderohe can tell, nothing has reset.  

Dieter is still here.  

Well, his body is, at least. His charisma, his drive, his passionate eyes, they are all gone. He looks completely traumatized, honestly. Vanderohe imagines it’ll take a long time for things to ever be normal again, for all of them really, but for Dieter the most.  

They had anticipated that they’d all be on the helicopter, which in hindsight was stupid, because it was barely big enough to fit the ones who made it on in the end, so Scott calls Maria on his satellite phone to confirm a rendezvous point, in the middle of fucking nowhere Nevada, when they run out of gas. She arrives soon enough, picks them up. Vanderohe doesn’t miss the looks of shock and questions the others desperately want to ask when they catch sight of Dieter. He’s sure the glare that he gives Chambers and Guzman, when he can actually feel that they want to ask, is anything but subtle, but he doesn’t care at this point. He just wants to get Dieter to a safe location so he can shower, rest, and talk about everything, preferably in that order.  

On the ride to their undetermined destination, they decide to split the money much more evenly, because fuck Tanaka and his share of the millions, they deserve it all. Geeta wants to meet up with her kids, so they compromise by stopping in the nearest city, dropping the majority of them off at the fanciest hotel there, then Kate and Geeta bid them farewell, head off to wherever Kate directs them in search of Geeta’s children. 

Vanderohe has absolutely no shame when he places stacks upon stacks of money on the concierge’s desk, even while she’s gawking at the group’s disheveled appearances, staring particularly hard at a blood-soaked Dieter, asks for the nicest rooms she has available, please and thank you

Dieter follows him obediently, doesn’t say a word. Vanderohe says goodbye to the others for them both, then heads towards their rooms. In fear of being too presumptuous with Dieter he gets him his own, making sure they are next to each other at least, but when Vanderohe leaves Dieter in front of his hotel door, he keeps staring at the keycard in his hands with his head down. 

It honestly feels like someone is carving out Vanderohe’s fucking heart with a spoon, watching Dieter look so lost and beaten down.  

Dieter won, technically, but nothing about this feels like a triumph.  

Vanderohe halts in front of his own door, taking a long look at Dieter, soaking up the moment, because he still doesn’t know what the right thing is to do here. He’s known this Dieter for one day, the other for just two hours, but he still feels this overwhelming force pulling on his hollow chest, dragging him towards Dieter’s presence. There’s this urge to protect him, but he doesn’t understand where this is coming from, if these are truly his own feelings, or simply remnants of some other version of him; perhaps the one withholding the memory of kissing Dieter, spilling over and consuming him. Even so, he doesn’t say anything, just keeps staring in reverence and pity at this man he doesn’t really know, even if it feels like he does, for an undeterminable amount of time. 

And neither of them moves to open their doors.  

Finally, Vanderohe’s feelings and exhaustion overrule his apprehension, and he ventures quietly, 

“Dieter?”  

Dieter physically startles, knocked out of whatever trance he’s been in since the timer didn’t reset, since the whole ordeal ended for him, starting an entirely new one of dealing with the ever-allusive after, and he looks up at Vanderohe, actually looks at him.  

“Are you going to be okay tonight, alone in your room?”  

Dieter shakes his head, looks back at his hands and whispers, “No, I don’t think I will.”  

Vanderohe puts his keycard in the door, gestures for Dieter to come inside, says, “Come on, I’ve got you.”  

He tells Dieter not to worry about the duffel bag, grabs it himself, then rummages through Dieter’s backpack for him in search of clean clothes. Vanderohe clasps his hand around Dieter’s wrist and leads him into the bathroom, asks tub or shower? and Dieter whispers, tub, please.  

The tub is huge, fitting for the luxury hotel room they're in, which Vanderohe is thankful for. Even though Dieter seems meek now, hunched in on himself, he’s still tall and broad and much too big for normal sized tubs; he deserves even this small comfort. Vanderohe starts the water for him, adds soap and lays out a towel and the set of clothes, but when he turns around, Dieter is bracing his hands on the countertop, staring at himself in the mirror.  

The blue of Zeus’s blood on his face brings out his eyes. 

“Dieter,” he looks up and turns around, shocked out of his trance again, “You’ll feel much better once you’re clean.”  

“I don’t think this washes off,” Dieter looks forlorn down at himself, and Vanderohe sadly responds, “I know. The memories won’t, but the blood will. One step at a time.”  

Dieter nods. Vanderohe leaves the bathroom, takes Dieter’s keycard and his own set of clothes, heads to Dieter’s room to shower at the same time. He doesn’t say anything when he’s searching for his things, overhearing the hitching breaths and muffled cries coming from the bathroom.  

Dieter deserves the privacy to fall apart and pull himself back together on his own time. 

Vanderohe is tired to his core, mentally, physically, emotionally, in every conceivable way, but he still enjoys the longest, most scalding hot shower of his entire life, actually fucking groans when the water hits his skin. He washes away the dirt and grime and blood and stress of the day, wonders how on earth they’re going to fix this mess, thinks about how fucked up this whole situation is. Dieter is going to need therapy, lots of it.  

When he returns, he’s ready to pass out for the next twelve hours, but Dieter is still in the bathroom, and he’s somewhat worried that he may fall asleep in there, with how exhausted he must be, so he vows to stay awake until Dieter comes to bed. The bed is king sized; there’s definitely enough room for both of them to be comfortable. He doesn’t stress about the sleeping arrangement, instead bundles himself up in the luxuriously plush and soft comforter, turns on the TV to some random infomercial in a last-ditch effort to fend off sleep.  

When Dieter gets out of the bathroom, he doesn’t look better, per say, but he’s clean, washed of Martin’s blood, of Zeus’s blood, the evidence of his loss of humanity erased, no more dirt from Las Vegas stuck to his once tacky skin, and that’s one step in the right direction. 

Vanderohe can actually feel Dieter’s trepidation as he looks at the bed, so he pulls back the covers to encourage Dieter to join him. He finally gets in, cautiously and slowly, and fucking hell, this Dieter is a new one to figure out too, completely different from the one that commanded the room throughout the day. Vanderohe turns off the TV, cloaking them in darkness, lays on his side facing Dieter and closes his eyes.  

And Vanderohe is so fucking tired, he wants to sleep desperately, but the nagging feeling that he needs to say something to Dieter is too strong to ignore, so after a few minutes, he’s unable to take the oppressive weight of the silence anymore, tells Dieter, “I know you’re awake, and you shouldn’t be. Go to sleep.”  

“I’m sorry, Mr. Vanderohe.”  

He hopes that’s the end of it, but he never feels Dieter’s breaths slowing, never sees the release of tension through his adjusted eyesight; Dieter’s wound up tight, like a bowstring, ready to snap.  

“Dieter. Sleep.”  

I can’t,” he whispers.  

“Talk to me, what's wrong? It’s over, you’re free.”  

“What if I was wrong? What if Zeus lied about the deal? I thought it was over many times before this,” he confesses.  

Vanderohe tries a different approach, “When does the timer usually reset?”  

“When I die, or when the bomb drops, whichever happens first.” 

“Well, one of those already happened, and as long as I’m around, the other one isn’t going to, okay?” Vanderohe tries to reassure, but Dieter seems so downtrodden, murmurs, “You can’t guarantee that either,” somehow curling in on himself even further.  

The ache in Vanderohe's chest compels him to be vulnerable with this man that he doesn’t actually know, and Vanderohe decides, fuck it, because he’s already kissed him, is lying in bed with Dieter, what’s the harm in giving a little more?  

“When the fall of Vegas happened, it took a while for everything to hit me. But when it did, the aftermath was... fucking brutal. I could see their faces every time I closed my eyes, the ones who didn’t make it. I put a lot of people out of their misery that day. I just felt so lost. I was desperate to gain some insight, make sense of what happened. I read something that helped me then, it was a quote by Joseph Campbell that said ‘It is by going down into the abyss where we recover the treasures of life. Where you stumble, there lies your treasure.’ It meant a lot to me, helped me make the most of a fucked-up situation, knowing that even the worst the world has to offer- it could still offer me something.”  

He reaches his hand out to Dieter, bridging the gap between them, and Dieter takes it eagerly, interlocking their fingers, a lifeline to hold on to.  

And Vanderohe gets a bizarre sense of satisfaction when there is no wave of déjà vu. 

“We’ll take it one step at a time, right? Tomorrow is a new day,” he squeezes Dieter’s hand in reassurance, then he can’t take not knowing for sure, so he whispers, “This hasn’t happened before, has it?” 

Vanderohe sees Dieter shake his head no in the darkness, and he’s spurred on by the fact that this is new, for both him and Dieter, that they get to experience this for the first time together.  

Dieter seems calmed, for now, as much as Vanderohe can make out, and he speaks up one last time, “Thank you, Van. Here and now, this is enough,” then finally closes his eyes.  

Vanderohe doesn’t last much long after, but he still watches Dieter’s breaths slow until he’s peaceful in rest; no more exhaustion overtaking his features, no fear and stress clouding his eyes.  

And Vanderohe is content to take on tomorrow, one step at a time, together, as he falls asleep.