Breath of Life

by handathepanda

After a tough trial, Meg wakes up in a very unfamiliar woods. While trying to regain her composure, she finds an unlikely face among the crowded streets: Evan MacMillan. Is this just some cruel joke made by the Entity or are they really out? While they try to figure out where to go from here, their hatred for one another starts to contort and form into something else entirely.

18. Scars

Snow falls gently on the ground and the world is quiet.

So perfectly quiet, that Meg can only hear her breathing, and, if she tries hard enough, her own heartbeat as she walks. Her feet crunch in the snow with every footstep as her breath fogs in the air in front of her, adding to the various sounds around her.

Scrunching her face deeper in the scarf that surrounds her lower face, she scowls as her eyes scan the snow covered street signs, knowing she isn't nearly as close to home as she would hope. Only a few more miles and she would be home.

Stuffing her rough hands deeper into her jacket, she hisses when her right hand snags on the loose tag in her pocket, pulling at the bandage she just put on when she left the diner.

"Fuck," she hisses as she yanks her hand out and examines it for just a moment. The bandage seems fine, but it rubs against her cut like sandpaper, making her grit her teeth at every movement. "It's fine," she mutters, already tearing the blood-soaked bandage off and tossing it on the ground, hoping that the falling snow will cover it up before anyone can see it.

As she takes a few steps forward, she considers going back and picking it back up, finding a garbage can to throw it away in, but once she pushes on and crosses a street, the thought flows from her mind. Instead, she focuses on how her fingers tingle in the chilling weather in contrast to how her palm throbs uncomfortably warm around the deep cut that is now uncovered.

She got rid of her winter gloves last year, not thinking she would need them, or at least thinking she would have enough money to buy new ones by next winter, and yet here she is with a small bleeding hand and freezing fingers, walking her way home after a ten hour shift at her job.

Ten hours…she snorts, rolling her eyes. It was supposed to be twelve, but she had to get cocky and try to chop up vegetables that the chef hadn't prepared yet. Due to the snow, the only people who showed up to work were her, one cook, and the manager, and yet customers still found their way in. She took it upon herself to try to help, try to speed things along; God knows she needed the tips, and yet…

Slice.

Cut her hand open and bled over the vegetables she was almost done preparing.

Of course.

Kicking at the snow in front of her as she walks, she begins mumbling to herself, not saying anything in particular, but trying to keep her from getting truly angry at herself in the process.

"Meg, you need to go to a hospital, or at least go home, but I can't have you working here with an injury like that," her boss said .

"I'm fine, I promise. Please, let me bandage my hand up, I'll clean this up, I'll keep working."

"No, I already clocked you out. Go home. Get that looked at."

"Please, I really need this money…"

"Megan, no. Don't make me tell you again."

Stupid.

She would have been fine, she knows it, and yet her boss still sent her, one of the only ones to show up for him, home!

Can you believe it?

Meg huffs quietly as she turns a corner, feeling warm blood drip into the palm of her fist in her jacket. She'll be fine, she has been through worse, but goddammit.

What is she going to tell mom?

What is she going to tell Evan ?

What?

A cold breeze picks up, whipping her hair across her face and gently pushing her off balance for just a moment, but when she blows the hair from her face and tucks it behind her ear, something is off.

She was just in a neighborhood, one a few miles from her house, but now she's on the edge of the woods and the snow has suddenly picked up. Snowflakes catch in her lashes and make it harder to see past the few trees in front of her.

Must have taken a wrong turn somewhere, she thinks, and as she turns around to retrace her steps, the houses behind her are gone, disappeared like they were never there to begin with. But she still sees footsteps, her footsteps, leading to the forest, except they are dark red, and the snow melts around the footprints as hot droplets of blood flow freely from her hand and into the white snow.

But…how is it that bad? It was just a cut and her hand has been in her pocket…

She looks down and sees the arm of her jacket torn up, and her skin sliced open like she was in a knife fight, now simultaneously warming her body with her sticky blood and cooling her skin with the bitter air around her.

What happened?

No…

No this isn't right…

This isn't how this memory went…

She closes her eyes tight and breathes heavily through her nose, trying to ignore the metallic smell of blood and death that swims around her.

No…

Her face warms with blood, tears, but she doesn't open her eyes, not yet.

Go back…just go back.

Go back to the time she worked at the diner, lived with her mom, where her only problem was being sent him early due to a workplace injury…

But when the memories hit, she can't run, and like the snow around her, she feels frozen in place.

She went home, and her mom took her to the hospital, the place they both knew so well, and she had to get seven stitches.

Seven stitches that ended up costing hundreds of dollars they didn't have, and because she didn't go right from work, the diner denied it happening there.

And who would believe poor Meg when she barely had a dime to her name?

She definitely didn't have enough to afford a lawyer, or to quit the diner, so she worked at the diner to pay for her own medical bills, and through the turmoil, her mom "forgot" to pick up one of the bottles of medication she needed in order to accommodate Meg.

It took her mom months to recover from that break, but they just didn't have the money…

"How's that hand of yours, doll?" She hears a voice from behind her, and when she opens her eyes once more, she is in the neighborhood she remembers, and when her eyes dart down to her jacket, it is miraculously intact.

There is no blood around her, and there is no…

What was she just thinking about?

"Everything okay?" The voice asks again.

She is tempted to keep walking, ignoring the man's voice.

It has happened before while she walks home, some strange man starts talking to her, but once she doesn't respond, they often give up. There have only been a few times she has had to turn around and tell them to leave her alone, and in a neighborhood like this, luckily, they often do. There are too many nosey neighbors and bored stay-at-home parents who want to see what's going on at all times around their houses; usually they won't try anything.

"How's that hand?"

Despite her mind telling her to simply keep walking, she stops at the mention of her hand. Did this man see her tear the bandage off? Has he been following her since then?

Swinging around, she is met facing a man, about six feet away, hands in his dark jacket pockets, and with a slimy grin plastered on his face.

Taking in a deep breath, she unconsciously straightens her back, trying to become almost as tall as him, which was easy due to this man being maybe only a few inches taller than her. He blows out an amused huff of air from his nose before shrugging.

"No need to be on the defensive. I just saw you cut your hand back at the diner. Thought I'd make sure you got home okay," he says as he cocks his head to the side in a condescending gesture.

"I'm fine. I can make it back myself," Meg says slowly, trying to keep her voice from shaking as she plants her feet more into the snow, keeping her ground.

"Never said you couldn't," is all the man says while staring at her, not making a move forward, but also not making a move to leave her alone.

She takes this moment to study his face, and there's something so…off-putting to him. She can't place it. To be fair, he looks like a normal guy, maybe a little tired, maybe someone who likes to drink a little more than what he should with his blood-shot eyes with puffy dark circles underneath. His black hair is messy, like he slicked it back with gel a day or two ago but hasn't bothered to try and redo his hairstyle after waking up this morning.

Overall, he looks harmless, but there's something that makes Meg feel gross by just looking at him, and how his eyes, even though they never leave her face, make her feel even more violated than if he were to be making his intentions more obvious.

"I'm Danny," he says, his smile widening further. "I see you working a lot. Some would say I'm a regular at the diner."

"I'm there six days a week and I've never seen you," Meg responds without letting his words settle in between them. "You need to turn around and leave me alone or-"

"Meg, Meg, Meg," Danny tsks his tongue as he pulls his hands from his pockets and holds them in front of him. "No need to get hostile here."

"How do you know my name?" Meg asks, her voice raising in her throat. She shivers even though the wind has stopped for now, but it has never felt colder.

"As I said, I visit the diner a lot," he laughs out and rolls his eyes as he continues talking, his voice sounding more like a monologuing actor more than anything. "You know, out of all of the states I've been to and hundreds of diners, you guys have the best apple pie. That with a little bit of ice cream...oh man. There's not much that can get to me, but that…it just keeps me coming back."

"I've never seen you there, and I swear to God, if you don't turn around and leave right now, I will scream. So help me I will scream and make sure you won't be able to walk out of this neighborhood again," Meg threatens through gritted teeth and watering eyes. Blinking rapidly to keep the tears from flowing, she convinces herself it's because the cold is burning her eyes and not just how terrified she is in that moment and how a little bit of her thinks she will never get away from his man if she doesn't do something quick.

"Let's cut this pretense, okay, Sweetheart? You're trying to act tough, and I'm trying to scare you, we know what's happening. We see this in every horror movie there is. I know you're scared…"

That sentence…she's heard it before but…that's not possible.

No.

NO.

Suddenly Meg heaves over, her whole torso and neck burning, feeling like she's on fire, and her stomach heaves, threatening to bring up the grilled cheese she had at work. No…

What is happening?

She closes her eyes tight as a white hot wave of pain radiates from her knees and up her spine as she falls into the snow, her arms wrapping around herself like a shield as flashes of something unknown come into her mind.

Dark, red, hot blood.

A dark dirty basement.

White hot electrifying pain.

Pictures…

Letters…

No…

Suddenly she feels strong hands wrap around her arms, pulling her mind back to reality and her eyes fly open in utter panic as she sees Danny kneeling on the ground before her.

"See, Meg? Is this the life you would have wanted? Because this is the life you would have had if…"

His voice distorts, becomes deep, and although she sees his lips move, she can't make out the words as her ears begin to ring. Her chest hurts as she tries to breathe, tries to look around, and suddenly she tries to scream, tries to do something, anything to help her.

There are so many houses around; someone has to help, right?

Somebody, please, anybody….

"Don't you see why you were chosen?" Danny's distorted voice cuts through her thoughts. "Come on, Doll, smile for me. This is a good thing!"

"Meg..."

A distant voice says her name but at the moment, she is too focused on the man who grips her arms too tight, making them throb and burn to the point of excruciating pain no matter how much she thrashes against his grip.

"Let go," she croaks, her throat closing around the words, barely leaving her lips as she thrashes against him, kicking at the snow and yet moving nowhere.

"Meg!" Another voice again…so distant she barely hears it.

Danny adjusts his hand on her arm, causing Meg's eyes to flicker down and all she sees is her skin, her own skin discolored and bleeding, and with every handprint Danny leaves on her arms, her skin begins to bubble and blister under his touch.

"What are you-"

"Meg, this is a good thing! Think about it! Think about this!"

"Meg…Meg wake up!"

Slowly and yet all at once Meg goes from seeing this man, this person grabbing her arms, shaking her and causing her pain and suddenly she is warm.

She is warm…but the pain doesn't lessen.

Instead, it amplifies just a bit as she is pulled from her dream, and all around, she feels her skin begin to burn and feel all too hot to the touch.

"Meg…" The voice says again, and as she moans once, the picturesque view of the neighborhood fades into oblivion before she cracks an eye open, just once. She almost expects to see the outline of the man in her dream, but thankfully she is proven wrong when she sees Evan fill her vision. "Meg, what's wrong?"

In the blink of an eye, Meg realizes she is completely in a different place, a different time, and that must have just been a dream; a dream of a memory, but…Jed wasn't there originally, was he? He…

She shakes her head and gathers her surroundings before thinking too much into the dream. Blinking slowly, she focuses on the man in front of her who is completely different from Jed, and she exhales a sigh of relief as she stares into his eyes.

The color grounds her.

He grounds her.

Evan stares back, his hands on her shoulders, as his face twists with concern. Grasping her firmly, but not tight enough to hurt, she silently thanks him as her senses slowly come back to her, trying to ignore her whole body throbbing painfully.

But she continues to stare, the green of his eyes always reminding her of the forest, a place that was once a pleasant memory before the Entity, and she consciously makes an effort to start mirroring his breathing.

He hasn't said anything else, other than her name, after she woke up, and she's thankful. Usually he's already asking her questions, making sure she's okay, but right now, she isn't sure.

She needs time to catch up.

So she stares into his eyes as she breathes.

In.

Out.

His hands never leave her as his fingers trace down her arms, carefully hovering over her various cuts before landing within her own hands, intertwining their fingers together. Taking in a slow, deep breath, he lifts up both of her hands to his face and closes his eyes, kissing the tops of both of them before hovering them in front of his face for just a moment longer, and then encompassing both of her hands within his.

And then she notices something that makes her blush, makes her almost ashamed of not realizing right away as her eyes peel away from Evan's face, and her eyes travel down to his chest, his shirtless chest.

Surprisingly, he doesn't seem phased as she pulls a hand away from him and raises her hand slowly in front of her before placing her fingertips gently on his collar bone.

"Come to bed with me," she remembers him growling in her ear last night and it makes her melt even more into his touch. At that thought, she feels her own heartbeat in her ears, and on her neck where cuts and kisses are both prominent on her skin.

She gently traces his collar bone until she hits a puffy white scar closer to his arm, and she rests her fingers along the length of it as she takes in a deep breath.

For a moment, she wonders if the cuts that riddle her body are going to look the same as Evan's.

There is something so beautifully horrific about seeing the scars on him, and it hurts Meg to even look at them sometimes. They're caused from pain, from abuse, from horrific acts that Evan didn't deserve in the slightest, but they're also so…him.

Meg almost feels guilty as she stares at them and she can't picture him without the scars on his shoulder, his torso, down his jaw and across his eye.

Will Evan look at her the same once her injuries heal? She thinks he's so handsome, beautiful even, but as she thinks about her own injuries, all she thinks is how gruesome she must look.

As she gets lost further in her own mind, Evan raises a hand to rest on the fingers that still lay on the scar on his torso, breaking her out of her worsening thoughts.

"Are you alright?" He asks gently, raising his other hand to cup her face, resting his thumb on her temple. He rubs his thumb in small, slow circles as she bends down slightly, trying to make eye contact with Meg. His brow is knitted together in worry and his breathing hitches. Meg can feel it beneath her fingers just how he shakes slightly.

Although this moment is intimate, and Meg feels safe, there is something she can't place a finger on. Was it last night?

"I…" her throat is scratchy and sore and she isn't sure if she is ready to talk about last night, even with Evan shirtless in front of her, which she can't complain about too much, but there are too many other thoughts swirling in her mind she can hardly focus on what is actually in front of her. "I had a dream, and it was…" she doesn't even know where to start.

Evan slowly lifts his hand from her cheek and gently runs his fingers over her hair and brings one of her messy braids in between his fingers before leaning closer and before she knows it, he wraps her in his arms. The immediate feeling of warmth that spreads through her body makes her involuntarily close her eyes and melt into him as he eases her down on the bed on her side.

They both shift so they are more comfortable, him spooning her from behind as she holds his hands that wrap around her.

"Tell me about it," he says. "The dream. You…you woke up panting, almost on the verge of tears. I was concerned."

"It involved Jed," Meg starts, "But…it seemed so real and I think…" her voice trails off. It seems ridiculous to say, even to think, but the way the neighborhood, the diner, even her injury, it all seemed too familiar. She remembers the cut, but Jed following her home…

That's insane.

She swallows hard as Evan pulls her closer, his legs intertwining with hers as he stares at her with a frown.

"You think what?" he asks when Meg stops talking. His voice is quiet, calm, and in that moment even though she hasn't said what makes her feel crazy, she doesn't feel judged.

It's Evan after all.

She should know nothing could ever sound crazy to him.

Instead of trying to explain everything, Meg starts from the beginning.

"You remember how I told you I used to work in a diner?"

"Of course. And if I remember correctly, you also told me how much you disliked it."

Meg chuckles quietly before nodding. "Yeah, it was the worst. And there was this time I cut my hand pretty badly."

Evan's grip on Meg tightens almost instinctively when she talks about her injury as she continues.

"It needed stitches, but I couldn't afford to waste the hours at the diner. But, they sent me home anyway, and on the way home…" Meg trails off as she shuts her eyes.

Her dream, it seemed too real like a memory, but did that really happen? Her heart rate picks up and her breathing quickens.

"I dreamt that Jed was there, following me home and I just…it felt so real. I don't remember if it was a dream or if it really happened and, Evan, if he was in my life even before the Entity…"

Evan's grip on Meg's waist at this point is so tight, it's bordering on painful, but Meg almost welcomes the heaviness of his arm and the pressure of his fingers on her stomach, pulling her closer.

In that moment, she wishes she could melt into him, not be herself, not be so alone. Even with the minimal space between them, it is somehow not close enough and all she wants is for him to devour her whole.

He doesn't say anything as she turns her head to face him, her eyes brimming with tears she doesn't want to cry.

She has done so much of that lately, so she blinks her eyes rapidly trying to will away the tears as her eyes land on Evan's.

Situating herself so she is on her back looking up at him as he props himself up on his elbow, she swallows down the brewing tears in her throat.

"I know it's almost impossible that he was there, but…" she swallows hard, every fiber of her being trying to keep her voice steady as she continues, "he's taking over…everything. My dreams, my nightmares, my memories. Everything was already a bit hazy from before the Entity, and now he shows up in a memory and I can't tell if it happened or not. I just…" the words get caught in her throat as she chokes on brewing tears.

Evan gently brushes her hair with his fingers, breathing slowly as his other hand rubs gentle circles on her arm, giving her time to talk.

Clearing her throat, she continues, "He's always in the back of everything now. Everything I do, everything I think, every thought always goes back to him." Tears begin to burn her eyes as she buries her face deeper into Evan's chest.

"I feel pathetic. This is pathetic. All those years with him in the realm felt just like anything else there. But now that we're out, I thought I was free from this. I thought we were all free from this and yet, he's more of a monster than I ever would have imagined."

"Meg Thomas," Evan utters her name like a prayer as he kisses the top of her head before continuing, "You are not pathetic. Not one bit. Jed Olsen is a coward and a menace."

"But-"

"No," Evan interrupts as he pulls away just enough so that he can see Meg's face, look into her watery eyes as he talks, his voice strained as though hearing Meg's self-doubt hurt him just the same, "Listen to me. I am not sure if he could be there, nor do I want to think about that possibility, but the things he has done, and continues to do, are the last thing you deserve."

"Yeah but-"

"Mark my words," Evan continues, effectively not letting Meg speak, "We will get away from him. Away from it all. I promise you, even if it's the last thing I do."

Meg's mouth twitches into a smile as a tear falls gently out of the corner of her eye.

"We need to end this. I don't know if I can keep going on with him out there…"

"We will end this," Evan whispers quietly, reassuring her as he drags two fingers along Meg's jawline before resting his thumb on her chin, gently lifting her face up to meet him. "I can promise you that. You deserve a life, a safe life, and after everything you have taught me, what your friends have taught me, we just have to be ready. Be prepared. We will come up with a plan."

Meg nods as she reaches a hand up to meet him and without thinking, she shifts higher on the bed so her face can be closer, mere inches from his face as her eyes flick between his scarred lips and back to his eyes.

"I just know that no matter what, as long as you're here, I feel safe."

Evan's chest deflates almost instantly as his face softens and his brows knit together.

"You…Meg…" There's something in his eyes that causes Meg's heart to tighten as he looks at her. "I failed you so many times-"

"Evan MacMillan" she says without letting his words hang in the air. "I swear, do not start with that again. You know I mean it. Things have happened," Meg lifts her face closer, her eyes landing on his lips "but I know that we will get through this together."

Evan closes the gap without hesitation, pressing his lips against hers that brings a wave of emotion over Meg, and suddenly flashes from last night fill her mind.

His lips on hers.

His rough hands gliding across her body.

His hips bucking up to meet hers.

And yet…

She blushes, wanting to forget what followed.

Not due to anything Evan did, not in the slightest, but her own thoughts.

Her own insecurity.

She remembers the way she felt against him, helping him unbutton his shirt, fingers getting tangled together as though they couldn't undress fast enough. Relief and need rushed through her as she finally pulled his shirt open, and feeling his bare chest beneath her fingers was overwhelming yet exhilarating at the same time.

Meg could barely form a coherent thought as his fingers threaded through her hair, pulling her closer to him, until his other hand reached for the waistband of her leggings, and like a switch was flipped, everything changed.

The euphoric feelings in her head turned dark and sour; her stomach dropped and her head began pounding and she felt her chest begin to squeeze tighter and tighter until she felt she couldn't breathe.

She couldn't move.

She wanted this - wants this - but with every passing moment, her body begins to freeze like she was drenched in cold water.

Come on, Meg….

Closing her eyes tighter, ignoring the searing thoughts that flow through her blood and make her body want to recoil within herself, she kisses Evan back slowly.

But it felt off last night, still feels off, and goddammit why can't her body just work?

He understood last night when she didn't want to continue past kissing.

She told him she was tired.

Sore.

And he stopped immediately, to which she was grateful. He never pushed her, and they fell asleep, tangled in each other's arms.

But now…

She wants to keep going.

Her mind wants to keep going, but her stomach grips and something within her feels like it's screaming.

Taking a deep breath, she tries to steady her heart as she brings herself back to now, back to trying to make this work.

But her hands shake and her chest feels heavy and there's a siren that begins to go off, screaming and shrieking and blaring in her mind until finally…

Evan pulls away.

She is left breathless, and just as she told him she wasn't ready last night, she almost opens her mouth until Evan gives her a small kiss on her forehead. His breath is shallow and low as his eyes roam her face, starting from her eyes, to her cheekbones, to her nose, lips, to her neck and then back up to rest on her eyes.

"I believe we should talk about what to do next," he says, planting another gentle kiss on Meg's temple before situating himself beside Meg, propping himself up on his elbow. "With the whole Jed and Herman situation, I mean."

Meg can't help but notice how the tip of his ears turn a shade of red as he doesn't break eye contact. He looks at her, his eyes swimming with emotions, and Meg can practically hear his thoughts he leaves unsaid.

Her skin begins to both burn and yet feel too cold as he shifts beside her and drapes his other arm gently across her stomach, his hand wrapping around her side as he pulls her closer to him.

Although this should be a gentle moment, something Meg has come to almost expect when she lays in bed with Evan, her stomach twists and her heart beats too fast in her chest. She can't place the feeling, even as Evan accepted her reluctance just fine.

Is it guilt?

Nerves?

All of the above?

Before she knows what she is saying, words begin tumbling from her mouth, ignoring his previous sentence.

"I want to be with you," she starts abruptly, "I do. I want to make this work."

"Meg," Evan takes in a deep breath as he lifts his hand from Meg's side to her face, resting the palm of his hand on her cheek.

"I just feel like last night and now, my god how I want to actually be with you, but my mind…I just can't…"

His thumb draws lazy, gentle circles just below where her eyes begin to water as he replies softly, "We can take this as fast or as slow as you want. There is no pressure. If all we ever do is lay in this bed where I can hold you, well, that's more than I could ever dream of."

"But Evan I-" Meg begins to say, but Evan shakes his head, not letting her finish her sentence before he smiles, looking into her eyes.

Instantly, she begins to relax, focusing on his eyes, the way his chest rises and falls beside her, the gentle pressure of his hand on her face, and once she gently nods, he continues.

"As I told you last night, I am in love with you. I will spend the rest of my life making up for all of the horrible things I have done to you. Meg Thomas, I would wait an eternity for you to be ready."

Meg's chest swells as tears get caught in her throat, looking at this man that she never would have guessed she would come to love and care about so deeply, so intensely, be so patient with her.

Before she knew him as Evan, she never thought that The Trapper would be patient, so loving, so tender, and it almost hurts to know that she has known him for so long without knowing just how important he would be to her.

"I adore you, so much," Meg says quietly, her voice cracking slightly as a tear escapes from her eye, "And I am so grateful for you, for this. I just…after the last few weeks…" her voice trails off as flashes of blood, of Jed, of pain and dirt and cold permeate her mind.

"You don't need to explain anything to me. I'm not going anywhere, I promise," Evan says quietly as he bends down, wiping the stray tears that have fallen down Meg's cheek. Giving her a small, gentle kiss on her forehead, she closes her eyes for a moment, savoring the feeling of his lips on her skin before pulling his face down to meet hers.

He lets out a quiet, deep sound in his throat as he deepens the kiss, his fingers lacing through her hair as he pulls her closer to him.

Meg's lips pull into a smile against his, and soon she feels his lips mirror hers into a small smile for a moment before Evan opens his mouth, his teeth gently grazing her bottom lip.

Before yesterday, she hardly thought about kissing him, or rather, didn't let herself think about it. They were friends she told herself over and over again, to the point of trying to convince herself of that fact.

It was silly, but now she realizes just how much she wanted him, wanted this, wanted to kiss him while being held against his chest, protected, safe.

Like two lost souls, they were connected, and she knew that, never wanting to be away from him, but finally through tearful admissions and the fear of losing one another, their feelings came out in a kiss, a single kiss that changed everything.

Meg finally felt whole, felt like she belonged within the universe, within herself, and despite the small sirens in her mind telling her it was a bad idea, she pushed on, confessing everything through small kisses and roaming hands.

And now, now Meg doesn't want that to break, and she is frustrated with herself for not being able to go further than this last night, or even now, and her body begins to freeze as Evan's hands rest along the bottom of her shirt, and she remembers Jed's leg forced roughly between her thighs, and Jeffrey rutting into her hip above her, grunting such obscene things into her hair.

"I didn't expect such a show from you. Didn't expect you to be such a whore, wanting me to enjoy this, huh?"

She is safe, she tells herself, and Evan is not Jed or Jeffrey.

He is safe.

He cares.

But…

That isn't enough.

Not yet.

So she takes in a deep breath and rubs Evan's back with more force as she begins to pull away from the kiss. She wants to continue, knows she wants to go on, but there's a deep pit in her stomach that she can't ignore that grows more painful, deeper with every second that she lets this continue, and suddenly her whole body begins to tingle and grow too hot all at once.

As soon as Evan begins to feel her pull away, he stops, opening his eyes slowly as his breathing catches up to him, his chest rising and falling rapidly at first. The longer he looks at Meg, the more control he gains as he begins to find his breathing, and soon Meg notices they are breathing in sync, slowly in and out, and she begins to cool down, and the pit begins to lessen as she looks just past Evan and sees the window outside.

It is sunny out, with blue sky and fluffy white clouds, which is a rarity for Washington. For that moment, Evan's hands begin to slowly trace up her sides so one hand lands on her waist and the other rests on the spot in between her neck and shoulder, his thumb resting gently on her pulse point.

It grounds her, focusing on something else, anything else, other than the darkening feelings that threaten to pull her under, and she smiles, which surprises her.

Without realizing, she looks over at Evan, smiling, as her heart rate slows.

"So," Evan says quietly, his eyes not leaving Meg's face. They trail her features, her eyes, her nose, to her lips, and back up like a cycle, so slowly she doesn't even realize it as he talks. "We should figure out what to do next, overall, and whatever you decide, I will follow. Anything to keep this, to keep us, safe."

"Well," Meg speaks up, her voice breathless as her mind flies in a million different directions, not sure where to land. "I think Jed is the main cause we should think about. But…"

In that moment, Meg's stomach growls loudly, and she is sure that Evan could feel the rumble due to his close proximity. Letting out a small laugh, she continues "Let's talk about it over some breakfast?"

Evan nods silently with a smile still glued to his face as he slowly sits up, gently helping Meg up into a sitting position. As she begins to move, her muscles begin to ache in protest, and her skin feels too tight on her bones, pulling at her various cuts and injuries that just have begun to scab over more after she basically washed them all off just a couple of days prior.

But despite her body throbbing uncomfortably and her skin feeling like it was on the verge of tearing, she had to admit she felt better in smaller ways. The bruise on her right knee didn't hurt as bad as she bent it to sit on the edge of the bed, and the deeper cut on her forearm did not burn as bad as other cuts on her body, or the one on her face.

She tries to focus on the positive signs rather than the fact that she feels like she can't move without hurting, and she tries to tell herself that it wouldn't be this way forever.

She will be okay.

She has to be.

Evan carefully gets out of bed beside her and is suddenly in front of her, knelt down with his arms up so they are face-to-face. "Here," he says, placing her hands in his, "lean on me."

Meg takes in a deep breath, pushing herself up using his hands, and at first her legs feel wobbly, numb, and she isn't even sure if they can support her weight, but when she stumbles and her movements falter for a moment, Evan's arm is around her, holding her up, supporting her in more ways than just one.

"Thank you," she says, the words feeling inadequate to how she truly feels in that moment, but she doesn't dwell on it. There is time for her to show her appreciation, so much more time, and now, she needs to focus on getting downstairs.

Evan's hand glides under her arm and around her back, and she can't help but notice the awkward stance he makes beside her, bending down to help her despite the height difference, but she is appreciative nevertheless as she smiles, leaning against Evan's side.

Slowly, the two make their way downstairs despite each step sending waves of radiating pain up her back and spine, but she pushes on as the smell of freshly cooked eggs and bacon wafts up the stairs.

There are clearly people awake, and if there is no more bacon for her by the time she gets down there, she's going to make someone pay…

Or make her more bacon, but the smell fuels her as she takes one step at a time, with Evan in front of her, gripping both of her hands within his own as he helps her down the stairs.

With each step, she tries to focus on her friends, on the food, on anything else except the fact that she feels totally and utterly useless at that moment.

What if something were to happen?

What if Jed came back?

What if there was an emergency, and she can barely get down the steps on her own?

The light hearted banter between her and Evan, and the smell of food quickly sours her mood the more she stumbles with the steps, and the more her own body refuses to cooperate.

Letting out a forceful grunt, she finally lands on the bottom step, already feeling a bead of sweat drip down the side of her face, and for a moment she panics, wondering if it is sweat, or blood.

It could be either.

Both are warm, both are not foreign to her, but she looks up at Evan, hoping he would tell her one way or the other, but instead of telling her that she is now overheating from exertion, he simply smiles down at her, brushing a piece of damp hair from her forehead.

"You're beautiful," he says, as though reading her mind, her insecurities.

With her hair sticking uncomfortably to her forehead and neck with sweat, and feeling like she just crawled out of a sewer, she laughs, thinking she is the farthest thing from beautiful.

"I know you're older but I didn't think we would have to get your eyes checked so soon," she responds, taking his hand and lacing her fingers within his as she leads him to the kitchen.

He laughs quietly beside her as he follows behind, fully capable of walking beside or in front of her, but letting her lead him with her slowly walking determination.

"My eyes are perfectly fine," he responds as they both walk in the kitchen, seeing Nea, Dwight, and Ace sitting around the table with Claudette cooking over at the wood fire stove.

"An interesting thing to say to announce your presence," Ace interrupts, shoveling a forkful of fluffy yellow eggs into his mouth, chewing only a couple of times before continuing, "But sure. Welcome in and get some breakfast with those perfectly fine eyes of yours."

Evan's hand grips Meg's tighter as he falters for a moment, frowning before helping Meg over to the table silently.

Ace is the first to look up from his food as he stops chewing his eggs after his sarcastic offhand comment. Dropping his fork, he takes a moment to blink and dramatically wave his arms on either side of him, slapping Nea beside him in the process.

"Red! Nice to see you out of bed, girly!"

"Ace, for fucks sakes," Nea groans, slapping his hand away from hanging in front of her face before she focuses on Meg, her whole demeanor changing instantly. Her face softens, and her shoulders drop for a moment before she stands up, knocking her chair on the floor behind her.

"What the hell are you doing out of bed? Are you feeling okay? Jesus, if you needed anything-"

"I'm fine," Meg laughs out quietly as Nea rushes over to grab her free hand, helping her over to the table. "I can walk just fine, you guys know that right?"

"But…"

"It's just stairs that trip me up. I'll be okay," Meg reassures Nea before she can say anymore. Glancing over to Claudette, she has her hands resting on her hips, as her head tilts slightly to the side, her eyes brimming with tears as she smiles at Meg.

"It's nice to have you join us. I gather you're feeling a lot better?" She says, already passing plates of eggs, bacon, and toast across the table so they're in front of Meg and Evan. "I was going to come up and check on your wounds in a bit."

"I'm feeling okay, actually, better than okay," Meg says, grabbing at some bacon as she smiles, looking up at Evan briefly before filling her plate with more food that sits in the center of the table.

Nea and Claudette look up at Evan, and then exchange a knowing glance before Nea lets out a small laugh, and Meg can't help but notice the tips of Claudette's ears darken.

"What is it?" she asks, paying particularly close attention to the way Claudette blushes and the way Nea won't meet her gaze, something that has never happened before.

Normally, Meg would say that her and Nea, they would share anything and everything, being the closest thing either one of them had in the realm, and for that to change now…

Meg swallows, refusing to admit that anything has changed in that aspect, so she narrows her eyes and stares at her friends, coercing them to talk.

"Well, we were thinking of what to do next," Dwight finally speaks, shifting the attention from the women onto him.

"Well perfect," Meg says, raising an eyebrow. "Evan and I were just talking about that too."

Dwight swallows hard as though swallowing words that he doesn't want to say, but after a beat of silence, he continues, "And we were wondering where Feng has been. I mean, she was a part of everything, which sucks, but there has to be a reason, right? That she would just up and leave?"

"Not a good one though." Nea spits out, stabbing a piece of sausage on her plate violently, not even picking it up as she grasps the fork. The air around the kitchen suddenly grows dark and suffocating as though talking about Feng immediately sours everyone's moods.

Honestly, Meg doesn't blame any of them.

Biting the inside of her cheek, she keeps from saying anything right away as she takes a bite out of her bacon, watching her friends.

Nea's knuckles begin to turn white as she continues speaking, "No matter the reason, she fucked up. What happened to Meg is all her fault, and even if she had some fucking excuse from God al-fucking-mighty himself, it doesn't make it right."

"That may be true, but whatever helped her believe she was doing the right thing would help us in the long run. At least we would know what we are up against," Claudette speaks softly, her voice firm as she walks over to a seat beside Nea. Nea doesn't move, her back hunched over as she stares at the plate, and with any more force, Meg begins to think she is able to shatter the plate in two with the force she drives the fork down.

"So," Dwight clears his throat as he wrings his hands in front of him slowly, "we should come up with what to do," he pauses before he looks at Evan and raises an eyebrow, enunciating the rest of his sentence slowly, "next. There has to be something other than getting mad at the situation."

Frowning at Dwight, Meg looks at her other friends, Nea still fuming with anger, and Claudette rubbing gentle circles on Nea's back, attempting to bring her back to the current chain of thought, and Ace, well, Ace just finishes his food with a smirk on his face, ignoring the current tension.

But out of it all, she can't help but notice the way her friends exchange glances as though wanting to say something, but don't, and for a second, she struggles with whether to bring it up or not.

"I agree," she says, reaching down to rest her hand on Evan's leg, pausing until slowly, everyone notices she is talking and looks up at her, "Clearly sitting and waiting isn't going to do anything but just put a target on our backs. If we want anything done, it needs to just happen."

"True," Ace comments, leaning back in his chair as he continues, "but we also can't really make a move right now, not with Red in the state she is."

"Guys, don't put this off on my account," Meg mutters, her throat tight.

"Meg," Evan scolds quietly, "No one is putting off anything because of you. I care-"

"We care," Claudette interrupts, shooting a stern look at Evan before continuing, effectively interrupting his sentence, "And you are what is important. Yes, we should figure out what is going on, where Feng is, and what to do about the rest, but we also ALL," she punctuates the word by pointing a slender finger in Meg's direction, "need to be in good health. We have handled worse, and we can figure out something until you are better."

"But what if-"

"No, Meg, stop it right there."

"No!" Meg interrupts, her voice punching through the air, "Look, okay, I know you guys are looking out for me, and I appreciate it, I do."

"I'm sensing a 'but' coming," Ace says, leaning back in his chair while raising his arms behind his head, "Look, you're-"

"Ace, stop. Please, let me talk," Meg objected, lifting a hand in front of her. Evan's hands find themselves settling on her hips as she instinctively leans back into him, molding into his chest as she continues. "This is what I'm talking about. I went through…" she pauses, trying to find the right word, but when her mind draws a blank, even refusing to take her back to what she experienced, she sighs continuing "Hell. It was Hell, to put it lightly. The realm, it was the same, but this…this was different, and it was awful, and I barely made it. I know." She pauses, looking around at all of their reactions, except Evan who grips his fingers slightly harder into her hips. "But I was the one who went through it. I know what I can and can't handle, and, look, I am tired of being treated like some fragile flower."

"We don't think that," Claudette begins to say, but when Meg lifts up another finger, she stops, folding her hands in front of her and lets Meg continue.

"I appreciate all of you, so much, even more than I could say, but I also need you guys to stop babying me. I'm healing, my body was broken but I'm…I'm here. I'm ready to fight just as much."

"But when you can't walk down the stairs, Meg, we aren't babying you, but we are helping you. You basically washed the bathroom walls with water a few days ago. We're just making sure-"

"Yes! I know!" Meg shouts, her voice clipped as she breathes heavily through her nose. They're right, she would be just as worried if the roles were reversed but she can't keep sitting around.

Not now.

She will never get better if they just sit around.

"But we can still do…something! Anything!" She continues, less angry this time but just as loud, the words coming out more strained than anything.

"Fine, Meg," Nea slams her palms on the table, pushing her up so she is standing on the other side of the table, "Walk down the stairs on your own and then we will let you get out of here."

Everything in Meg wants to fight, wants to argue, but deep down she knows they are right, at least about that.

"But until then," Meg says quieter this time while nodding, laying her hand on the table as she speaks, "We need to figure out what to do next. So the day I can walk down the stairs, we know what the plan is."

The group hesitates, exchanging concerned glances with one another, and soon the looks last a little too long and something within Meg has to ask, knowing full well the way that Claudette's hands wring together relentlessly, and the way Nea scratches at the back of her head, and the way Ace's trademark smirk is now replaced by a twitching smile all leaves Meg feeling uneasy.

"There is something you aren't telling me."

The group collectively pauses, everyone looking away from Meg except for Evan, whose eyes haven't left her the whole time they have been talking.

"I wanted to tell you," Evan starts by saying, shifting so he's more beside her. He grabs Meg's hand within his and grips it so it rests on his lap. "But you-"

"What is it?" Meg asks, her voice stern as she scowls, taking time for her eyes to land on everyone in the room for a moment. "As I said, I want to be caught up. I missed things, I know, but I'm ready to hear them. I'm not going to be kept in the dark."

She lets go of Evan's hand as she looks at him, raising her eyebrows as she finishes her sentence. There have been things all along that have made her feel as though she were being kept in the dark, unknowing, unprepared, and she's done with that.

There needs to be something she can do so they can finally just live. Adjust.

Move on.

"There was a letter," Nea says, looking at Evan as though inviting him to interrupt her at any time, but when he looks down and swallows hard, she continues. "And there were pictures, along with an address written on a piece of paper."

"Okay," Meg says slowly, nodding along, her stomach beginning to twist as Evan reaches back out to her as though needing to touch her, not wanting to be apart for more than a minute. The grip he has on her hand tightens almost painfully but she ignores it, wanting to just hear whatever it is her friends refuse to tell her. The way that no one is looking at her, at least not directly, doesn't help as her hand begins to shake despite Evan's crushingly hard grip. "I feel there's more."

"The pictures were from Jed and they showed," Nea's voice cracks and she clears her throat, pausing while picking at a small piece of egg on her plate with her fork. Meg frowns, knowing that it takes a lot for Nea to get like this, and she doesn't even know the last time she has seen her friend act this uncomfortable.

Even Evan doesn't look at her, something that sends a wave of nerves through her chest as she bends down slightly in order to get his attention.

Squeezing his hand and giving his arm a soft nudge, he looks up at Meg, and she can see clearly just how red his face is and how his mouth turns down into a scowl, but his eyes…

Even when they would yell at each other and argue when they first met, she has never seen him look so mad.

Maybe when he was fighting Jeffrey, he came close to this, but she can feel his anger radiate from him as his chest shakes with every breath.

"They showed you with Jeffrey fucking Hawk," Nea spits out, "What he was doing to you…as that worm just stood there and took pictures."

"Oh," Meg breathes out, the realization hitting her as she thinks back on that night. Bright lights followed by flashes of agony.

"I told you I kept these. They really are…something. I thought they'd be a nice decoration to what we are going to experience today."

Jed pinning those pictures up on the wall before tearing her apart flash into her mind and for a moment, she can't breathe.

Can't think.

But the weight of Evan's hand on her thigh keeps her grounded, tethered to what's happening now.

Not in that basement.

"So," Meg stutters out as she closes her eyes, trying to control the flood of despair that threatens to crash down at any moment. "Okay. You said there was an address attached to the letters?"

Trying to change the subject from the pictures, she doesn't need to think about that now.

"Yes, but unfortunately we don't know what could possibly be there."

"Is it close?"

Claudette shrugs and sets down her napkin as she crosses her hands in front of her on the table. "The thing is though, none of us has heard of it, and it is essentially a town that has one road, a post office, a store, and a town hall."

"Do you think it's a trap?"

"Not necessarily," she replies, before shrugging and giving Meg a small smile that doesn't reach her eyes, "Maybe? Truth be told, it is hard to tell these days."

Meg nods slowly as she pushes through her chest squeezing, trying to keep her from talking, but they need to talk about this. Need to plan.

It's time.

"So, are we going to go?"

"Well, there's also another problem…"

Meg raises her eyebrows, coaxing her friends to talk without saying anything. Can't they just spell out what is happening?

No one says anything as they glance nervously at one another, all effectively not meeting Meg's gaze.

"The note mentioned that they'd be back within a week."

Did she hear that correctly?

"They?" She croaks out. "Meaning Herman and…"

"Jed," Nea finishes Meg's sentence. "Look, did you want to read the note?"

"Nea!" Claudette hisses, "Do you really think-"

"Yes," Meg blurts out, interrupting Claudette, "Of course I want to read it. As I said, you need to stop babying me. I'm…fine."

"Meg, we're just trying to help and-"

"I want to read the note," Meg reiterates loudly, not letting anyone protest as she folds her hands together on the table.

She swears if she has to hear them say they were trying to help one more time, she was going to lose it.

Claudette chews at her lip for a moment before she glances over at Nea, who stares at Meg, wide-eyed. No one says anything as the seconds stretch on, each heart beat feeling like an eternity, before Dwight pushes himself from the table and walks over to the kitchen counter.

Grabbing a piece of paper, he sighs and walks back over to the table next to Meg.

"I…We…this isn't how we wanted you to find out," he says, his eyes lowered as he hands over the note.

Not taking a moment's rest, Meg glances up at Dwight as she snatches the note from his grasp, not caring that the paper almost rips in his hands. He remains standing there, fists clenched so tight to his sides, his knuckles turn white.

Claudette stares at the table, still chewing her raw lip as Nea's scowl deepens, but no one says anything as Meg stares down at the crinkled paper.

Thought you might like these. Don't worry, I have the original copies, so you can tack these on the wall, shred them with those big hands of yours, throw them away, doesn't matter, but I'd love to see what you do with them when we come back to visit in a week. Thankfully, I'm alive, and I hope little Meg is feeling better by then too. In the meantime, here's an address that might serve as some interest to you two lovebirds.

135 Skyco Lane, Index, WA 98256

Love and kisses

-J.O.

She hardly sees the words, trying to let them sink in as her eyes scan the small paragraph once, twice, three times…

Knowing exactly what pictures he refers to, she pushes those dark thoughts down…down somewhere she doesn't dare to go within her own mind as she takes a deep breath in an attempt to process the other information Jed wrote.

A week…

Which, she can only assume, includes the days she spent in bed, asleep, recovering, trying her best not to fall into the pit of darkness that threatened to swallow her during these last few days…

Which means they're coming tomorrow.

Her breathing begins to quicken and the room begins to slowly close in and she can barely think and-

"This morning, right before you came down," Claudette begins saying, staring at Meg as though attempting to tether her back to reality, "We decided that maybe the best option we have is to leave tomorrow morning. First thing. At least for a few days." She doesn't quite meet anyone's eyes, even as she continues, "We thought about getting a hotel a few towns over."

Anger sweeps through Meg, burning through her stomach, up to her chest and down her fingertips as she slowly lifts her head, taking her time to look at every single person who sits at that table; at every single person who kept this note from her to begin with; who, mere minutes ago, attempted to tell her she wasn't strong enough to fight, to go anywhere…

Her nose flaring, Meg begins to talk quietly through clenched teeth, knowing that if she were to speak louder, she wouldn't be able to contain herself.

"You…all of you were just saying we shouldn't do anything because of me. Because of my injuries and yet, when were you going to tell me about the very real threat hanging above us?"

"We wanted you to rest-"

"That's exactly what I'm talking about!" Meg hisses, spit flying from her mouth and falling onto her chin, the dam bursting, "All of you knew that they would be back. And not only that, but you decided to go to a hotel and weren't going to tell me? Until what? Tomorrow morning? Throwing me into it? Did you even think to give me the choice?"

Evan's hand squeezes her thigh, a usually reassuring gesture that only makes her crawl out of her skin at that moment. His touch is too hot, burning a hole in her leggings, and it takes all self-control not to swat his hand away as she swings her body towards him.

"And you!" Evan's face remains the same, but the way a muscle in his neck twitches makes Meg almost feel bad.

Almost.

But she continues.

"The others I haven't seen much of, so I can almost forgive them for not telling me until now but you…you promised not to keep things from me! You have had so many chances to tell me about this!"

"He wanted to tell you as soon as he could," Dwight speaks up, his voice an octave higher than he normally sounds, but Meg barely registers it as she stares at Evan, her face feeling too hot as tears begin to form in the corners of her eyes.

"Meg, I-" Evan begins to say, not breaking eye contact with her as he frowns and his brow furrows. "This is not something I purposely kept from you. I just thought…"

Blinking rapidly, she tries to control the angry tears from falling.

"We wanted you to rest, mentally and physically," Claudette chimes in when Evan's voice catches and he doesn't continue. "We were going to tell you about the note, and obviously this isn't the most ideal way to find out-"

"Most ideal?" Meg laughs a humorless laugh. "Yeah, I would like to know when the men that tortured me half to death would threaten to be back. You let me think that we were safe here…"

No one says anything, not right away, as she takes in deep breaths.

In through her nose, out through her mouth.

In.

Out.

But she can't help but feel the annoyance, the anger brewing in her chest, and she lets it fester.

They have tried to protect her, and she knows they care, she does, but she has also made it pretty clear that she wants to be in the know. She wants to be aware of what's going on, and yet her friends don't even try to consider what she might feel about the note.

The note that was very clearly left for Evan, for her, to find.

Taking a deep breath in order to keep from shaking, she looks up, making eye contact with Claudette, who is the one that has the misfortune of being the one seated across from Meg.

"I want to go to the address," she says, fully knowing it would be met with backlash from everyone, and she barely gives herself time to think about her reaction. She knows it's brash, but she also knows that she is done sitting around. Immediately, Evan's hand squeezes Meg's thigh almost painfully and Nea slams her hand on the table. But before anyone can say anything, Meg continues. "I can only assume that you thought I would go to the hotel, but I want to go to the address. The note was clearly meant for me." A moment of silence before she clears her throat. "And Evan. I think it's worth looking into if we could talk about what I think is best for a moment."

Nea scoffs, folding her arms together as she cocks her head to the side.

"Dwight already suggested that the other day and we all voted no for that. Even Evan said no," she says gesturing over to him beside Meg.

"I am not sure if even going to a hotel is the safest option," Evan speaks up as he stares at the table, not quite meeting anyone's eyes. "At least that's what we decided last time we discussed this."

It takes Meg a moment to register that this is the first time Evan is hearing about the plan to go to the hotel, and must be just as shocked as her.

But that doesn't change the fact that he knew about the note. About them threatening to come back.

That's the main thing that causes a sharp sting to radiate in her chest as her stomach turns to lead.

"I don't care," Meg says, her voice laced with irritation but not as vicious as it was a minute ago. "I am going to that address. Everyone else can do what they want."

Evan turns so his body is facing Meg but before he can speak, Nea laughs a cold laugh.

"That's rich. Fucking really, Meg? You went off investigating something by yourself and were tortured half to death, and now you want to go off to an address that those assholes very clearly want you to visit? Alone? And what about you?" Nea switches her glare from Meg over to Evan, who hasn't taken his eyes off of Meg once since they began this conversation. "What do you think? You know as well as us that this is insane!"

They stare at each other as Meg's lower lip wobbles and Evan's brow knits tightly together as if they were silently communicating.

Meg bites down on her lip in an attempt to get it to stop moving as she silently pleads with Evan to be on her side with this. She's still angry Evan didn't inform her about the address, but maybe they can agree on this.

She knows Nea has her reasons, and honestly, if anyone else were to suggest that they go to an unknown address, she would be right in Nea's shoes.

But Nea wasn't there that night with Jed and Herman.

Nea didn't witness the horror she did, nor did she get so close to having any of her questions answered, just to have it viciously ripped away.

"She won't be alone," Evan says, still looking at Meg. His eyes roam her face for a moment, before tracing down along her various bandages on her neck, her arms, and her wrists. "If she wants to go, I'll go with her." He takes in a shaky breath before saying quieter, "I'll go with you anywhere, Meg. If you want to go, then we will go."

"Guys, I don't know if that's the best option right now," Claudette says.

"I don't know," Dwight speaks up, "I mean…as I suggested the other day, the only way we know what's there is if we go. Maybe more of us can go with them, strength in numbers and all that."

"Or," Ace chimes in, sticking his finger up in the air, "We can look into other options. Things tend to work themselves out and-"

"Not from just sitting around!" Meg says, slamming her hand on the table. "This isn't the trials, this isn't the realm. Things here don't just 'work out'. We have fought tooth and nail to get to where we are and I refuse to sit here while serial killers are actively plotting to kill us, or worse!"

By the time she ends her sentence, her chest is heaving and she feels hot tears burn the corners of her eyes. Furiously blinking them away, her nostrils flare as she sits back in her seat and curls her hands into fists in her lap.

"Okay, so I agree, I really do," Ace begins while holding up his hands, not quite referring to who he is agreeing to as though trying to defuse the tension, "But what if all of this is just another trap? How do we even begin to fight back if we deliver ourselves into their own hell?"

"As opposed to what?" Nea says, rolling her eyes, "letting them deliver their Hell here? We do nothing and they show up at our doorstep and then what? I think we should all just leave here for a while, regroup, rest."

"Or those who want to go to the hotel, go there for safety, and let those who want to go to the address go," Dwight says with a small shrug. The silence following his suggestion doesn't last long as Nea slams her hands on the table, pushing herself up.

"And since when do you want to go head first into danger?" Nea spits in Dwight's direction. "I just…This is insane," she shakes her head as she leans forward on the table. "Okay, fine, Meg," she spits, her face turning red as she narrows her eyes at her friend. "You don't want us 'babying' you, so we won't. So tell us then, what the fuck happened at that cabin?"

"Nea!"

"What? She wants to pretend like she is fine, fine with everything that happened and wants to move on, so maybe we should talk about it. We talked about what we found, so maybe she should talk about her exploration, and why they're threatening to come back in the first place."

"Nea, that's enough," Claudette says, her voice low, a warning. Although her tone is stern, Meg can't ignore the tear that falls from Claudette's face as she glares at Nea. "Take a breather before you say something you regret."

"Regret?" Nea scoffs, crossing her arms. "No, if they go into Hell at that address and something happens, we need to know everything about Jed and Herman. I refuse to give up my life because three of us have lost any sense of self-preservation."

"Nea," Dwight stands up, putting his hands out in front of him, "Look, let's take a walk."

Silence flows around the table as Nea stares at Meg, nostrils flaring and chest heaving as Meg mirrors the attitude.

She knows where Nea is coming from, and yes, she wanted - no - wants to tell her friends what she discovered, but to be blatantly demanded to tell them leaves a sour taste in her mouth as she scowls, refusing to talk.

"There is so much more at play here than you realize," Meg begins, talking through clenched teeth.

"Okay, great, and that's a good excuse to go prancing off wherever those psychos want you to go?"

"You have no idea what it's like-"

"You were tortured! I think I know-"

"Yeah!" Meg hisses, interrupting Nea, "I was tortured. Me. I was the one who was tortured by them, not you."

Silence passes over the table as Nea stands up a bit straighter, but she stays quiet.

"I was tortured," Meg breaks the silence, her voice quiet but everyone listens with bated breath, as if anyone breathing would cover up her words. "As you like to remind me again and again. So, yes, I want to go to the address if only to see what they could possibly want us to see."

Her voice starts to shake along with her bottom lip, but she pushes on through stinging tears that begin to form.

"I would do anything, even 'prancing off wherever', if it means that no one else has to go through what I did. From the very beginning, since us being out, all I've wanted was to make sure we're all safe." Her hands begin to shake so hard, even clutching them into fists does little to help. Her fingernails dig into her palms painfully as she continues, "While you and David were off drinking and getting kicked out of bars, I was trying to figure out where we were and why. I have worked and worked to figure out something, anything, to make this make sense and I will not have anyone stop me from trying to figure out as much as I can. For us. For me."

A tear falls from her eyes, and she quickly lifts up a hand and wipes it away.

"Even if you want to pretend that we're helpless and not even consider checking out some lead, I refuse to wait around. I will keep doing what I have been doing since day one."

The room is so quiet, and for a moment she feels like she's in a vacuum; noiseless, airless, and she lets her mind go blank.

She said what she wanted to, and she doesn't regret it, but the way no one makes eye contact with her hurts.

"I'm getting too old for this," Ace says with a sigh, breaking the silence before anyone else can chime in as he shakes his head, "Look, I want everyone to be safe, I do. I can't imagine something else happening especially after Meg, and…" he pauses, finally breaking eye contact with the group as he looks down, "What happened to Kate. I'm not sure if getting revenge or going to that address or whatever you kids are thinking is going to help. We could simply leave, start our own lives away from this place."

"We could, but-"

"Nah, it's okay, Dwight. I appreciate your input but I feel as though I'm the minority in this conversation. I'll let you kids talk," he says, his voice strained as he pushes himself off the counter. "It's clear what the majority vote is for. Just…" he pauses as though finding the right words, which feels weird to Meg.

Ace never runs out of words.

"Just make sure you're making the right decision. I'll let Kate know to pack up her stuff for tomorrow. We are going to the hotel, I suppose. I'm not going near that address. I'm sorry but…" he trails off, shaking his head. He pauses for a moment as though looking for the right words before the waves his hand behind him, turning on his heels and walking out of the room without another word.

"Do…" Nea chokes out before clearing her throat, completely ignoring the way Ace left. Her face is red as she stares down at her fists on the table, "Do you honestly think that I don't care? That all of this worry is because I think that we don't need to find out anything else?"

Meg doesn't respond, not sure if she even has the words, so she stares at Nea, waiting for her to continue without giving her anything to respond to. Nea waits for a moment, but when her eyes flick up to meet Meg's gaze, she sees tears streaming down Nea's face.

"I thought we lost you. I thought you fucking died," she hisses through her tears, "After everything. The realm, the trials, and to think that you were murdered alone and afraid by the very same people who have tortured us for years…"

Evan flinches but remains quiet, and Meg can hardly hear herself think. Her vision blurs before she realizes tears are now falling down her face, but she doesn't speak. Not yet.

"I would have torn this world apart to find you. I almost wanted to if Evan didn't get to it first. So don't you ever dare assume that I don't care, or would rather sit around and pretend like everything is fine. I would give anything to have been the one in your shoes so you didn't have to go through what you did."

Suddenly pushing herself up, Nea swings around and punches the glass window behind her with a painful yell.

"Fuck! Meg, I…" The window splinters out from where her fist planted itself on the window pane as her fists shakes.

"Nea!" Claudette yelps in surprise as she jumps from her chair, reaching out for Nea, but before she can touch her arm, Nea shakes her head and wipes her nose with the back of her hand. Stealing one last glance, or more like a glare, Nea turns to face Meg once more for one breath.

Two.

Then she storms out the room, leaving Meg feeling absolutely frozen.

She doesn't regret anything she said in that moment, and maybe she should, but she definitely didn't expect Nea's response either, especially going as far as to almost shatter a window.

"I…" Meg stutters out as more tears start streaming from her eyes. "I don't know…"

"Well that was unexpected," Dwight mutters to himself as he starts picking at one of his fingernails.

Without saying anything, Evan scoots closer to Meg as he wraps his arm around her shoulders, bringing her closer to his chest as Meg's breathing quickens. Wrapping his other arm around her, it blocks her view from both Claudette and Dwight and for a moment, all Meg knows is Evan.

His warmth, his scent.

Him.

And as she takes in deep, shaky breaths, she attempts to hold her tears back, hold back all sorts of emotions that flood through her as her palms sweat and her heart races.

Gently running a hand down her hair, Evan gives her a small kiss on the top of her head before whispering, "We can go back upstairs, or go outside if you need space."

She considers it for a moment, the thought of getting away from everyone, but once she remembers Claudette and Dwight still sitting at the table, she shakes her head and gently pulls away.

"No, no, I…" she turns towards her friends. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean for that to get so…heated."

"No need to apologize," Claudette reaches across the table and offers her hand palm up. "I don't think anyone intended for that to happen either. I think we all are just tired and worried."

Evan keeps one arm around Meg's shoulders as she leans forward and grabs Claudette's hand.

"You can say that again," Dwight mutters as he nods. "So…" he swallows hard and looks down at his own hands before talking, "Are you really going to go to the address?"

"Yes," Meg says quietly before she can think otherwise, "What just happened isn't going to change that. I really think that they have the upper hand, and giving us an address could be playing into whatever ploy they have but that being said, we could make sure it helps us just the same."

Dwight nods and then looks over at Claudette who just stares at Meg, her face contorted with worry, but she doesn't say anything to change Meg's mind, and for that she's thankful. Biting her lip, she takes in a deep breath before asking Meg something else.

"Well, okay, but can I ask something?" she says, glancing from Evan to Meg, "And I don't mean this in a bad way or am bringing this back up to upset you."

Meg swallows down her initial panic at what Claudette could possibly want, but she nods.

"Is there…anything you could tell us? You don't have to go into detail, my god, how you don't have to go into detail, but I thought maybe I could research some stuff and I was wondering if there's anything you can tell me that I may not know. We are all here to help figure things out, even if we don't go to the address with you."

There's so much they don't know, Meg wants to say. She has pretty much said as much, but as her heart squeezes painfully in her chest, she nods, knowing she needs to tell them something.

At least so someone is on the same page as her, even if it's just Dwight and Claudette.

She isn't sure how ready she is to talk about it, and maybe starting off small will help. Careful of where her mind wanders, she tries to relay information without putting herself fully back in that basement.

So slowly, so quietly, she begins with, "I did find these notes, like a diary."

Giving Evan's hand a squeeze, she laces their fingers together before continuing, wanting to feel him beside her. Squeezing her hand back so tight, she can feel his fingers pulse between hers as she continues. "The paper was old and crumbling, and honestly, I don't know how anyone was able to keep those pages intact like they were, but they detailed things about…" she pauses, glancing over at Evan. This conversation has been hard, is hard, and not just for her, but they all have to be on the same page. "They were about the estate, written from a worker of Evan's dad."

"What did they say?"

She wishes she could tell them right away, but so much happened in between her finding those pages and now…so she closes her eyes tight, trying to remember everything she found out that day. It was such a revelation, and yet the hours that followed seemed to overshadow anything she may have learned.

But she tries.

For Evan.

For her friends.

For herself.

She tries to remember.

"I don't remember exactly what they said," she admits, but after taking a deep breath, the details begin to slowly come back. Don't force it, she tells herself.

Her friends and Evan give her time as no one says anything to rush her, and slowly, she remembers one of the notes in the middle.

Something about the woods.

"The note was about the woods, like…how they always seemed to…change."

"Change?" Claudette asks as she stands up. "Keep talking, I'm just finding a notebook. I left it around here somewhere…"

Meg watches as Claudette begins to fumble in drawers in the kitchen before continuing, wanting Claudette to write this stuff down if she wants to, not that she thinks it would change anything. Claudette pulls out a small yellow notebook and sits back down at the table, flipping through to a blank page.

"Well, like, how those cabins in the woods would change where they are. Almost like the woods expanded and shrunk over time. Like they were alive?" Meg's explanation sounds like fiction, even to herself, but she's certain that's what the note said.

"Alive?" Claudette asks, not looking up from her notebook.

"Yeah, like ever-changing," Meg begins as she swallows down a growing lump in her throat, "They said things like how the workers even tried to make trails between their cabins, and the next day, the trail would end suddenly, or disappear completely. I don't remember a lot of it, but I do remember that this one worker knew something bad was happening in the woods, and I feel it's all connected."

"There were the pages in my father's journal," Evan speaks up, his voice quiet yet firm, "where he claimed to have heard The Entity from the time I was born, and perhaps it had some influence on the grounds in more ways than we knew."

"So, being here, we may not be as safe as we think we are? Well, I mean, for different reasons than the obvious…" Dwight asks.

"Probably, and that could also explain why we were all sent here when we left our trials. Maybe there's some strong rift here and if the Entity really was growing weaker like we thought, we were able to slip through," Claudette says as she flips through pages in her notebook that Meg now sees has pages upon pages of writing.

"Is that…have you been taking notes in there about what's going on?"

Claudette nods as she continues, "Yeah. I think better when I can write things down, and so I've written everything we know so far about us, this town, the killers that got out. I also have some theories written down here too, and that's just one of them."

"Yeah, but it doesn't really explain why Jed Olsen has been hunting us down, and Herman recruiting Feng?" Dwight asks, reaching over to look at the page Claudette paused on.

"No, it doesn't," Claudette pauses, not looking up from her notebook. "But the more we know about what's going on around us, maybe the more we can find out about them.

"I know I should have mentioned this all sooner," Meg admits, wringing her hands together, "Maybe I would have remembered more, but…I think it's about time that someone else needed to know these things. Especially if you two are going to be at the hotel, and if you could even research anything that could help while we're gone, this might give a good place to start."

"Well, I was actually thinking of joining you and Evan, if that's okay," Dwight says, rubbing the back of his head as he looks out the window instead of at Meg. "I know David will probably want to join me if I go, if you'll have us."

"Dwight…" Claudette warns softly as though wanting to talk him out of it, but not quite knowing how to, especially when Meg has already committed herself to going.

"I had the same idea Meg had. That's why I suggested it the other day, and I really think that maybe it's about time more of us try to fight for something rather than pushing everything aside," Dwight says, his voice growing more steady with every breath. "I want to live. For the first time in… a long time. I don't just want to survive, I want to live."

Claudette looks down at her journal, but her eyes don't move, not reading any of the words as Dwight talks. Meg's chest tightens and she almost doesn't realize she's holding her breath, completely surprised at his admission.

Evan squeezes her knee almost as if to say 'I know the feeling', but he doesn't speak up as he watches the smaller man begin to pick at his fingernails.

No one speaks up, not right away, and Dwight's face grows a shade of pink as he lets out a strangled laugh.

"David, he has given me so much these last few weeks," he says wistfully, almost like he wasn't talking to anyone but himself. "And I've never been someone's priority. Not like this. Not outside of the realm."

At that he looks up at Meg for a moment. His brown eyes then glance over to Evan for a moment before meeting Meg's gaze once more.

"I want us all to be happy and safe, with everything new we are learning, experiencing, and if pushing forward towards something scary and unknown is the way to do it, well, I can think of a lot of other things that are worse than checking out some weird address."

Meg nods, tears burning her eyes as she looks at Dwight, really looks at him as though truly seeing him for the first time. A lump grows in her throat as she realizes she doesn't even remember the last time he spoke this plainly, this honestly, or if he has ever.

He was always quiet, a little nervous almost all of the time, and completely overshadowed by other strong personalities in the realm. That's not to say he wasn't reliable in the trials though, but this…

She likes this side of Dwight, and not only because he is agreeing with her, but because maybe he is right, for so many reasons.

They have more to lose now, but more to fight for.

"Well okay," Meg says, leaning back in her chair. "I agree, with all of it, and would love it if you joined us. Only if you want to, of course."

"I wouldn't have suggested it if I didn't think it would be worth our time," Dwight shrugs before turning to Claudette. "But Claudette, if you could research what Meg talked about, that would help a lot. Even if I can't help."

Claudette's head shoots up as though she didn't expect that, and suddenly her whole body visibly relaxes.

"Oh thank goodness. I was worried you guys would pressure me to join after that speech," she lets out a quiet laugh. "Because I really don't think I could, after Chimacum…"

"Claud, of course you don't have to join. It would help to have you look into what you can while we're away. No one is being forced to join us at the address, and clearly Ace and Kate are probably going to go to the hotel, along with Nea, so…" Meg trails off with the thought of Nea. "Well it would be a great help."

"Of course," she sighs. "I mean, I still don't like or approve of you guys all going to that address, but, if I can't stop you, I can't say I'm not relieved that more than just you and Evan are going."

Meg nods, oddly comforted by that as well as the four begin to fall into conversation about what other information they might have.

Meg, trying her best not to think too much about that basement, tries her best to recall every note that she read, including names and dates, although it isn't much to go on. There's a small part of her that hopes she is telling the right information, and not sending Claudette on a wild goose chase, especially after the torture and Herman's absolute red hot agony he inflicted.

It made her remember some things, weird memories about her past that she hasn't let herself even think of after that night, and she hopes the notes weren't a part of that.

But truthfully, she doesn't even know if her own mind made that up.

"Anything helps," Claudette nods along when Meg shares her concerns. "Even if Herman made it up, if there's truth to it, there will be a trace somewhere. I'll look into it."

Soon, Claudette has pages filled with various information that she feels will help, and although Meg wouldn't even know where to begin, she's glad Claudette offered to research it.

After a while, Dwight gets up with a stretch as he tells the group he needs to inform David of their plan so the two can prepare themselves.

Claudette nods as she gathers her notes and gets up, wanting to start looking at the diary Evan mentioned. He kept it tucked away in the living room on a bookshelf, and Claudette seemed more than interested to look, almost wanting an excuse to leave Meg and Evan alone at that point.

But as soon as they're alone, the tidal wave she had been desperately trying to keep at bay since finding out about the note comes crashing down. Within the blink of an eye, her mind is flooded with visions of Jed Olsen and his knife, cutting her, maiming her, Herman's immense agony he inflicted with just a single touch, Jeffrey Hawk foully rutting into her bruised hips as he tugs at her dislocated shoulder.

All the questions her friends asked, the arguments, the disagreements, all of it felt too much and no matter how much she tried to keep it together, she could only hold out for so long.

Balling her hands into fists, she begins shaking uncontrollably, so hard that her vision goes blurry before she closes her eyes, and her breathing quickening as she attempts to ground herself.

She repeats that she's okay, she's safe, but nothing helps as her mind grows fuzzy and feels like it's filled with static, electrifying and frying her from the inside.

One moment she was fine and the next…

She can't breathe.

Nothing happens as the darkness begins to take over and her stomach feels impaled by knives, her chest is caving in.

If Evan is saying anything to her, she can't hear it, can't even think. She begins to hear a faint buzzing, generator's in the distance.

No please, not back there.

Please.

Big hands rest on her cheeks, pulling her so she faces Evan before he leans forward, resting his forehead against hers.

"Meg," he breathes out so quietly, she clings to his voice like a lifeboat. "Breathe with me. You're safe."

I'm safe.

I'm safe.

I'm safe.

Repeating the phrase to herself like a mantra, she doesn't quite believe it but she focuses on the way his body moves, breathing slowly in, holding it for a couple of seconds, before slowly breathing out. Soon, as though breathing out her doubts with every breath, she begins to believe the mantra.

She is safe.

And just as quickly as her panic began, one by one, her senses begin to regulate as she hears Evan's breathing, feels his fingers on her face, pulling her closer to him with just enough force to keep her grounded. She smells coffee sitting on the table, and she sees Evan, all she sees is him.

"Okay," she whispers so quietly, her lips barely move as she exhales once more, slowly pulling away from Evan. They don't break eye contact, and Evan's hands never leave her, resting there as though that's where they were made to be.

He will never know how grateful she is in that moment to bring her back to reality, back to life as she looks into his eyes, green with gold flecks, memorizing every detail of his face as if they were the only two people in the world.

Her eyes drift from his gaze, falling on the scar that runs down his eye, one that she now has, matching from two very different, yet cruel circumstances. In another life, she could have even equated this to getting matching tattoos, or matching rings, but this…

This leaves her feeling conflicted, sad that they both had to go through such horrible things only to end up having matching scars prominently displayed on their face.

Evan seems to read her mind as his finger runs gently over the lower part of her scar below her eye, breathing out as his mouth twitches into a frown as he begins to say something, but before he can speak, Meg breathes out.

"I don't regret deciding to go to Index. But I also wish we had more time. For this," Meg whispers, not sure if she can even talk louder in that moment. "For us."

Evan scoots closer until his knees touch her chair, her legs in between his as he takes both of her hands within his. His thumbs rub the back of her hand in comforting circles as he leans forward, resting his forehead against hers.

"We have time," he whispers quietly back. "This isn't the end, I can promise you that."

"I know," she replies, giving him a half smile as she takes in a deep breath, inhaling his scent, committing it to memory, even though she knows she could never forget, not now. Not after everything. So she continues, "But I feel like there's a whole mystery waiting for us, and if it is anything like how our last trip went…"

"Then I'll be glad to spend every second with you, and will commit to bringing you back home soon."

"I just thought," Meg sighs, "that we'd have time. Especially after yesterday, I didn't want to go off on another search. I just want this to end."

"I know," he responds softly. "I know, and it will."

"And on top of it," Meg bites her lip, debating whether she wants to get into this now, but before she can talk herself out of it, she blurts out "I'm just so angry…all the time." Taking a moment, she pulls away from him so she can look at him, really look at him.

She doesn't know where these feelings are coming from, and maybe it just became too much too fast, and she needs to get them out, needs to tell him.

"I'm sad, I'm scared, but above all else, I'm angry. Angry at this whole situation, angry at Jed Olsen, angry at Feng, angry at myself…"

"That's understandable-"

"But it shouldn't be! Nothing we went through should be classified as 'understandable'! What is the point? To anything now? We don't act and we are in danger, or we do act and we're still in danger, and this is splitting us all up."

Evan's face softens as he squeezes her hands tighter, "Meg…"

"You know," Meg continues, a little quieter than before, but she still spits out the words as though they're finally clawing from her chest, letting out everything she has wanted to say that she has kept hidden from everyone.

From Evan.

From her friends.

From herself.

"There was a time this last week where I thought…what is the point? Why do we keep fighting when all it has led to is more pain, more suffering for everyone involved."

And for once, Evan says nothing, as he looks at Meg with a look on his face that she doesn't recognize. Defeat, rejection, so Meg continues as her thoughts fly through her mind faster than even she can comprehend.

"I'm tired," she sighs, and Evan nods slowly, not breaking eye contact as though she will disappear if he even so much as blinks. "I'm tired of trying, for years of being in the realm, of years being tortured, of years being killed, and I don't know…"

Meg's throat closes up, refusing to say the last part.

She knows she can tell him anything, but…

"What is it that you need? Right now? What can I do to help?"

"I just don't want anyone else to get hurt," Meg says, but then as she tears her gaze away from Evan, she admits, "But I'm so tired of putting myself in harm's way too. I just…"

"Then we don't go to Index. We figure something else out," Evan says, like it's the easiest decision in the world.

"But what if we find what we've been looking for there? We've been looking for answers, anything really, for weeks. Plus what Dwight said…he made really good points. God, Evan, I don't know…"

"Then we go," Evan says with a small smile. "We check it out but we play it safe. Take it slow. Plus, you're right, Dwight truly had uncharacteristically wise insight."

With a small laugh, Meg nods, not quite satisfied with the answer, but she appreciates Evan's reassurance, his support in whatever she decides.

It's what she wanted from her friends. Conversation, support, or at least just to listen without telling her she needs rest.

She got plenty of it.

She just wishes she didn't have to go off on another unknown search, but maybe…

Maybe it won't be so bad. Maybe they won't be in danger.

Taking in a deep breath, she settles her racing heart as she tries to tell herself, convince herself, that they won't be marching into danger.

Not again.

"Together," Evan says softly, quietly. "We do this together, like we have all along, right? Since day one, like you said, we've been trying to figure things out, and we've been doing it together."

That alone causes Meg to smile before she realizes it as she nods.

Yes.

"Together. With all we have."

"With all we have," Evan nods, agreeing as he presses a kiss to her forehead. "All we have, Meg. We will get through this. Then we can begin a life away from here, together. Safe."

Meg takes in a shaky breath, straightening her back. She wishes she could say she feels lighter, relieved, but that would be a lie.

Her whole being feels heavy but she feels motivated. There is so much left for them, and even if she has to keep fighting like Hell, she can continue to fight.

Through the exhaustion.

Through the pain.

As long as it ends with them being safe.

Happy.

"We have made it this far," Evan continues, resting his hand on her cheek before leaning forward and placing a kiss on her forehead. Without pulling away, he whispers gently into her skin, "We have been through so much. You have been through so much, and you're still standing. You're still here and you have been doing such a good job at fighting, at holding on, at everything." Pulling away from her so he can look into her eyes, he smiles. "You have handled more than anyone, and if we need to go through this, finally getting to the end of Jed and Herman, well, it'll be one more thing for us to do together before we can move on from it. Move on from it all."

Nodding through her tears, she looks at Evan, knowing they have so much to experience.

Like Hell she'll let Jed Olsen and Herman Carter keep her from finally living.

And for the first time since her assault, through all the pain and heaviness that still weighs her down, there is something else. Just a sliver, waiting to grow, as she returns Evan's smile.

And she can hardly believe it, but she feels hope.

So, there's no alternative for her but to keep fighting.

---

After the tense breakfast, the survivors go about their day, slowly healing, slowly moving forward after being continuously anxious, worried, and feeling like they were going to lose one of their own. Once Meg was able to join them for breakfast, and very clearly fight for what she thought, it was clear that she was out of the woods.

Finally.

It felt odd, almost losing one of their own finally to one of the monsters they fought for years. When they did lose in the trials, they knew they would wake up, be with the same people day in and day out, but almost losing Meg for real this time, left an open wound through the house that everyone could feel, despite Meg beginning to regain the use of her legs, and her cuts finally looking less red and gruesome.

And although Meg has been healing, she can't help but still feel like her friends are waiting with bated breath for her to disappear through the day. It's obvious in them watching her as she moves through the house, or when she goes on a small walk through the garden, almost like they don't trust that she will be there if they look away from her for two seconds.

She ignores it the best she can, and it helps that Evan doesn't leave her side. He provides some protection, some shielding from the prying eyes of her friends, and the way that he moves alongside her, and the way he talks to her like there is no care in the world makes her feel normal, okay.

Except the lingering looks, combined with the fact that she hasn't talked to Nea since their argument earlier makes Meg feel uneasy, uncertain. She isn't even sure where Nea stormed off to, and although she finds herself almost asking her friends if they've seen her, she refrains.

If Nea wants to be found, she will be.

In all the time that they've been friends, they've known each other for years, it's natural that they've had disagreements, arguments, but never one that heated to the level it got to earlier that day.

Now that time has passed, and Meg has been able to simmer down, she understands Nea's hesitation, she really does, but she still can't forget some of the things Nea said to her.

Spat out at her with so much venom.

She never thought she'd be on the receiving end of her absolute anger like that, and now…

Clearing her throat she shakes her head, trying to ignore the growing feelings of unease that flows through her blood stream, as though slowly infecting her whole system until she's ready to collapse.

So instead Meg focuses on something else.

Anything else.

The day continues to be bright and sunny, which is a complete juxtaposition to how she feels inside. The conversation she had with her friends, and not just Nea, over breakfast did nothing to calm her nerves, and, in fact, only made the impending decision to leave even worse.

The only thing that was of some comfort was the fact that after a few tense words to Meg, her friends told her that David, Dwight, and Kate all went out for a supply run.

Food, water, and weapons were all on the list, and surprisingly, they were back at the Estate a few hours later with all in hand.

She tried to ignore the stabbing feeling of jealousy at being left out of the plans and instead, focused on how good it feels to be prepared for once when she saw more modern weapons strewn across the living room floor later that afternoon.

But Meg would also be a liar if she denied that it also caused her stomach to constrict painfully at the reality of the situation.

And how it feels that much more real.

So when she wasn't curled up beside Evan, talking softly, reading, or playing cards, she often snuck off through the day, walking the halls of the Estate, of somewhere she truly began to think of as home, wondering how long they can keep this space as their own.

Plus, the more she used her legs, the more the pain began to lessen and she felt like she wouldn't be under the constant scrutiny of everyone around her.

She hated what happened, she hated how she felt, but most of all, she hated how her friends always have that tinge of pity when they talk to her.

See her limp through the halls of the Estate.

So any time she had a moment, she would walk.

After breakfast, she began by walking in circles lazily around the kitchen. Using one hand to keep her balance while leaning against the wall, she walked.

From there, she spent almost every minute she could walking, exploring.

Home the Estate may have become, but she also feels as though she hasn't seen every inch of it, truly explored the hidden corners, read through the books that line shelves, looked at dusty and rotting pictures that still sit in picture frames along the hallway.

There was so much that has happened being here, and yet, Meg almost feels a twinge of guilt when she thinks back to how her original goal, the source of a lot of her first fights with Evan, became so clouded.

She wanted to explore the Estate, find anything that could give them meaning to…anything.

Then Claudette was taken, then they spent a few weeks healing, bonding, wanting to forget what happened in Chimacum, and then…

Meg swallows hard as she turns a corner in the house she never visited much, pushing down the last few weeks in her mind.

But she stops when she realizes that she isn't alone in the hallway. A surprised yelp escapes her chest as she looks at Claudette, sitting on the floor, her head in her hands.

As soon as the sound leaves her lips, Claudette's head snaps in Meg's direction, and that's when she sees her friend's face covered in tears, streaming down her face and landing on her pants, leaving behind tiny wet droplets.

"Oh! Oh, Meg, I'm-" Claudette stutters as she frantically wipes at her face before scrambling to push herself up using the wall behind her.

"Claud?" Meg asks, her face contorted with worry as she hobbles closer. "What's wrong?"

"Oh," Claudette clears her throat as she stands up fully, wiping at her face once more before shaking her head. "I'm fine. It's nothing."

The two stand, staring at each other, one willing the other to either talk or walk away, with neither of them wanting to start the conversation.

Meg tilts her head to the side and hobbles closer to Claudette before turning and sliding her back along the wall as she sits down.

"Sit with me, I needed a break anyway," Meg says, patting the floor beside her where Claudette sat before she stood up.

Claudette looks between Meg and down the hall as though waiting for someone else to come around the corner, but as time drags on and the only sound echoing in their ears is their own breathing, Claudette slowly sinks to the ground beside Meg.

"It's sunny today," Meg starts by saying. Claudette lets out a hum of acknowledgement beside her before clasping her hands together in her lap as she looks down at the ground. "I was thinking, maybe we could go on a walk or-"

"You're hardly fit to go on a walk outside," Claudette says softly as she looks up at Meg with an eyebrow raised.

"I can walk just fine. How did you think I got here?"

The corner of Claudette's mouth tugs into a sad smile before she looks back down at her wringing hands. "I suppose."

Meg lets a few beats of silence pass between them before speaking up as she turns her head slightly towards her friend.

"Or maybe we could garden? Or well, you can garden. I'll sit and hang out. Or I don't know, maybe play cards?"

"I-" Claudette's voice catches before she clears her throat, "I don't think I'm really up for being around people right now."

"Yeah, I get that," Meg nods before she reaches over and rests a hand on Claudette's knee. "But, you know you can talk to me. Anytime."

"I know," Claudette shoots her a smile, "but I after-"

"Please don't say that even you can't talk to me after what happened earlier," Meg responds, almost pleading, wanting to be treated like normal.

Wanting to be a part of the group. Not some injured baby bird everyone needs to protect.

"No," Claudette says sharply, "It's not that I can't talk to you. I…"

"Then what is it?"

Fresh tears begin to stream down Claudette's face slowly, then all at once as her hands fly up to her face, covering it from Meg's view.

"It's not that…I…it's not…" Claudette stumbles over her words before she takes in a shaky breath.

"Claud…"

"It's the fact that this morning was so much harder than I thought it would be. I tried to keep it together, and I think I did an okay job, but since then I just can't stop crying. It feels silly and selfish but I can barely look at you or think about what you went through without remembering what happened to me. What he did to me."

Oh…

Oh Claudette.

Meg is speechless for a moment as she looks away from her friend but keeps her hand rested firmly on Claudette's knee.

They never really talked about what happened with Claudette, with the others. They briefly talked after Kate ended up in the hospital, just to make sure that no one else had lingering effects that would be detrimental, but the psychological side of their trauma, all of their own torture, they never talked about.

Just like how Meg has been keeping that time in the basement locked deep inside her for the last week, not even wanting to share it with Evan.

And sometimes, so selfishly, Meg forgets that her friends have been through similar situations.

And if anyone can relate to what Meg went through, it would be Claudette.

Flashes from the barn house in Chimacum explode in her mind, especially when she found Claudette.

Barely breathing.

Barely alive.

Covered in blood and bruises and…

It was almost the same.

Exactly the same and yet…

"I kept it together earlier," Claudette says before breathing out slowly, "I managed to separate myself and tell myself that I could add to my theories but once I left that room, the whole conversation fell on me like a ton of bricks."

"Do you want to talk about it?" Meg asks softly, her voice sounding small even to her ears. "I…I'm so sorry. I never thought to bring up what happened-"

"I never expected anyone to have to bring it up," Claudette interrupts Meg with a sniffle. "I thought that maybe after we had Kate back, that we could move on, that what that man did to me could be forgotten but…"

Claudette takes a deep breath for a moment, one that Meg lets her take in peace and does not interrupt before she continues.

"Taking care of you, making sure you were alive was the priority when we saw you, you know. But now that you're with us, and everyone is pressuring you to talk about what happened, including me, it just made me remember every single excruciating detail from when Jed came in and…"

Meg swallows back tears as she nods and begins apologizing. For what, she isn't quite sure, but that her chest physically aches with guilt.

"I'm so sorry-"

"It's not your fault," Claudette says, talking over Meg. "It really isn't. I just think that sometimes, selfishly…" she hesitates for a moment, chewing on her bottom lip before turning slightly towards Meg. "Can I be honest?"

"Of course," Meg replies, situating herself more so she's facing her friend.

"The others, I know they were questioned and beaten just as badly, but sometimes," she closes her eyes as she speaks the next part, "You and I are the only ones to have seen Jed at his absolute worst, and I don't know how to just, I don't know, move on? it's hard to describe."

Meg nods, thinking she understands what Claudette is trying to say at that moment. It has been hard for her this last week to try and rationalize the dark feelings in her own mind that threaten to spill over at any moment.

Jed Olsen is a menace, they all know this, but when it comes down to what happened exactly, it feels too personal to even begin to talk about, and yet…

"I feel like a part of me died that day," Meg begins, taking in a deep breath to steady her voice. "I haven't told anyone that, but there was a piece of me I feel like I haven't been able to get back. That piece, it leaked out of me and was left drying on that ground along with all of my blood, my tears, my," she chokes up for a second, and Claudette immediately reaches over and grabs her hand. "I feel like he took more from me than just my pain. He took something from me that day."

"I have enjoyed the times we've had," Claudette speaks up, giving Meg's hand a squeeze, "in this house, with our friends. With Evan. But, I still don't feel whole, like a normal person."

The pain, humiliation, absolutely powerlessness Meg felt while Jed conducted his questioning, his relentless torture.

"It's hard to tell the others just how much it affected me, after everything we've been through. The Entity's realm, the trials, and yet, somehow, being questioned by him was the most traumatic event in my life," Claudette says barely above a whisper as she uses her other hand to wipe away tears that now fall from her face. "I've tried to be strong, but to know that you went through just as much, if not more…"

Meg says nothing as she scoots closer to her friend and pulls her in for a hug.

"I know," is all Meg can manage to say at that point as hot tears burn her own eyes and threaten to spill onto her cheeks.

Claudette never talked about her time at the barn house, and no one really asked. We let her heal, garden, fuss over having enough food and supplies at the house, making sure we were taken care of, but we let the trauma of Chimacum be left behind.

Now that everything has caught up to them, including Jed and Herman, they haven't let Meg heal, at least not her mind, which she understands.

But she never thought about how this would affect Claudette just as much.

"Since we're planning on leaving for the hotel tomorrow, I already finished packing but when I saw my bag ready to go…" Claudette says as she pulls away slightly from Meg's hug, but not letting go of her hand, "all I can think of is how last time I was at a hotel, I was so traumatized I couldn't even shower on my own. I know I can face it, but I just don't want to. I want us to be safe. I want us to be done with this. I don't want anyone to go through what we have."

"This time will be different," Meg reassures her despite the words not sounding quite right coming from her, but she continues, "We are more prepared than we've ever been. They gave us the upper hand this time-"

"Because you know how they like to play with us. Let us pretend we have the upper hand," Claudette argues back, and for a moment Meg doesn't know what to say.

She's right.

Both of them are in some regard.

After the group got back from their supply run, they eagerly showed the rest of them what they were able to obtain, even without proper identification.

An array of modern hunting knives, some battery-operated cameras, pepper spray, and tasers all lay on the floor of the living room, waiting to be picked up by anyone.

And although they agreed to leave the property for at least a couple of days, Evan and David were outside at that very moment setting up cameras along the edge of the forest and around the house, just in case.

Then wherever they went, they had more defense if anyone were to try to harm them.

But…

The question still hangs over their heads as to why they would have given them time to prepare. They tried not to think about it too much, but clearly it was almost all Claudette could think about.

"Maybe they do have the upper hand," Meg settles on saying, "But unlike before, we can fight. That's something we've never been able to do ever."

Claudette nods, breathing in slowly before turning her head towards Meg.

"But what happens if you and Evan are caught? If something happens to David? Nea? Dwight? The rest of us aren't going to be there, and I just think you need more backup. Something…."

"You've seen Evan, like he would let anything happen," Meg replies with a small smile even though her chest tightens thinking about the possibility. "I…if it's a trap, I don't want all of us to be there. I want you guys to be safe."

"And what makes you think that we're okay with you risking your own life by going in?"

"The note was addressed to me."

"So? You think we're just okay with sending you into a trap while we're safe in a hotel with our tasers and knives?"

"We'll have a taser and knife with us-"

"You know that's not the important part of what I just said."

Meg lets out a humorless laugh. "I know. I just don't want anyone else getting hurt. Not because of me."

Claudette squeezes Meg's hand so hard, she feels her heartbeat, but she doesn't let go as the two fall into a tense silence.

"I just hope that we all made the right choice," Claudette mutters, not looking at Meg. "That you and Evan…you find what you were meant to at that house."

Meg nods silently, her stomach in knots as she tries not to think about exactly what they'd find.

"And I hope we all come back," Claudette adds solemnly, almost as if she were speaking to herself, and Meg doesn't answer.

Can't answer.

So she holds onto Claudette's hand as she stares out the window.

The two women sit like this for a long time.

Hand-in-hand, silently watching as clouds cover the sun, turning the sky dark and gray, and Meg does all she can not to think about the last storm before the visit to Chimacum.

If that were any indication on how this visit would go…

No.

Taking a deep breath, she erases the thought from her mind as she watches the rain begin to fall slowly on the window, holding onto Claudette's hand for dear life.

---

That night, Meg convinced Evan to show her where all of the cameras were installed outside, just to make sure they were all on the same page, and secretly because Meg wasn't sure if she trusted Evan and David with the task of properly securing the cameras up.

There was no real reason to doubt them, and Evan only acted offended when Meg asked, but he retorted with a jab of his own that made Meg laugh so loud, she was sure she'd wake the whole house.

Only then did they take a walk around the grounds as Evan pointed out the cameras, some of which were hidden so well, Meg could barely make out their shape amongst the branches and leaves it was tucked into.

She'd be lying if she said she wasn't impressed. For someone who lived without technology, Evan was surprisingly adept at hiding the cameras, but then again, she figured it came from all of the hunting he did while growing up.

Once Meg was satisfied with the location of the cameras, she managed to pull up the live camera feed on her phone, which felt like both a curse and a blessing. Safety was a priority, and she felt like she had eyes almost everywhere, but the more she watched the blurry dark green and white feed, the more she thought her eyes played tricks on her.

She thought she saw movement, a dark jacket maybe, in one camera, but when Evan went out to investigate, he only found deer tracks leading away from the camera itself.

The next time Meg saw movement, Evan had to wrestle the phone from her hand so she would finally attempt to get some rest before their journey to Index.

They only compromised if the two of them could take one more walk around the tree line, which Evan did, as long as he could carry Meg on his back.

She pretended to fight the whole time, but secretly she was fighting a smile as she rested her cheek on the back of his head, and was relieved at not having to limp once more around the Estate.

At least for now.

When nothing was found but various animal tracks, Meg felt a little more relieved, until she got back to their room, and Evan had to take her phone away once more when he caught her trying to watch the feed even though her eyes could barely stay open from exhaustion at that point.

One he put their phones away, he wrapped her in his arms and they laid like that for a while as Meg focused on his breathing beside her. It was enough to lull her into a fitful sleep until a couple hours passed, and she was woken up by faint footsteps walking down the hallway past their room, towards the staircase.

As though on cue, a heavy weight dropped into her stomach when she realized her friends were awake, and they were getting ready to leave.

It was time.

As though reading her mind, Evan begins to shift beside her even as he slides up and presses a soft kiss to her temple before taking his arm away from her waist.

She wants to say she misses his touch, his warmth, but all that comes out is a small groan as she turns to face him. He is already sitting on the edge of the bed, his back turned towards her as he reaches over for an undershirt that rests on a nearby chair.

Closing her eyes and breathing a sleepy sigh, Meg sprawls out on the bed, stretching, and before she knows it, she finds herself saying, "No need to put that on now."

Evan stops for a moment and she can feel the smile on his face as he takes a step towards the bed. "Oh," he purrs, "And why is that?"

Cracking an eye open, Meg sees him now facing her and she practically loses her breath as she stares at him for a moment, taking him in.

The way his muscles move with him as he breathes in deep, and the way the sun shines just right both cast an ethereal glow to his skin, to him.

"I'm just taking in the view," she settles on saying even though all she can hear is her own heartbeat.

Evan lets out a deep hum and doesn't move for a moment as his eyes trails from hers, down to her lips, her neck, and then further down to where her oversized button up falls open just above her breasts.

His breathing hitches, and it is the most satisfying sound in the world to Meg at that moment.

"So what were you doing up so early?" She asks, sitting up and slowly adjusting her top so it rests on her shoulders now, but she doesn't button it up as it hangs open, still covering everything, but just barely.

Maybe it's mean, teasing him like this, but she also can't help but get some enjoyment out of seeing him almost salivate over her.

Even messy hair, morning breath, early morning her, and the thought sends pleasant shivers through her. Something tightens deep in her stomach, and even lower, as she clears her throat.

"I," Evan finally lifts his eyes slowly to meet her gaze, his eyes dark and lidded as he takes in a deep breath as though attempting to control himself. "I was going to pack our bags. Let you keep resting until it was time to go."

"Ah," she nods, trying her best not to acknowledge the growing, rather large, bulge tenting his pants that causes heat to rise to her cheeks as she looks away.

Evan shifts as though noticing the same thing Meg does before he turns around and walks over to the dresser, pulling out two separate bags. He doesn't put on the undershirt, much to Meg's approval, as she continues to watch him, the heat not dissipating from her cheeks and only spreading through her own body.

Shifting under the sheets, she clenches her thighs together in a poor attempt to push those thoughts away, and for a moment, she wonders why.

Why keep denying herself? And Evan?

There is so much she wants to do with him, to him, and the thought of him kissing her, not just on her lips, but working his way down, planting hungry, desperate kisses on her neck, her shoulder, down to her breasts, giving her circling, teasing kisses before making his way lower…

"These probably taste like that pretty little cunt of yours, don't they? I bet you use these to fuck yourself, huh? I can taste you on them…"

Her mind shifts as Jeffrey's disgusting wet voice infiltrates her mind, stopping her blood cold and all she can hear is his laughter, the way he sounded out of breath while rutting on top of her, violating her, causing her so much pain…

And Jed watching, taking pictures, only to shove his knee up between her thighs, causing her to rest and move against him when she was at his mercy.

The way she knew he could feel everything , and still made it into a sick and twisted game of his.

She…

It's too much.

Too violating.

Please…

"Meg?" Evan asks, and suddenly he is halfway on the bed, reaching out to her. "What's wrong?"

Oh… oh god …

She didn't realize he moved so quickly beside her. One moment she was thinking about him and the next…

Her heart races painfully in her chest and her hands shake as she realizes she pulled the bed sheet up to her neck, gripping it so tight her knuckles turned white.

Evan doesn't touch her though, resting his hand inches from where she sits as though letting her have the choice of reaching out for him, almost like he knows exactly what she was remembering.

Reliving.

"I…" she barely gets out before she looks around the room, taking everything in, where she is, trying to catch her mind back up to what is happening in that moment. "I'm sorry, I don't know what came over me."

Slowly lowering the sheet just a fraction, she knows exactly what came over her, but it isn't something she wants to talk about. Not right now.

Evan nods slowly but pulls himself so he is sitting on the bed, still reaching out his hand towards her. "What can I do?"

Taking in a deep breath, she looks down at his outstretched hand, and she finds herself slowly reaching out for it until her hand rests on top of his. Her hand is dwarfed by the sheer size of his, and she can't help the smile that appears on her face when she stares at their hands together.

He doesn't move, but she feels his eyes flicker between their hands and to her face, but when he realizes that this is something Meg needs in that moment, he doesn't move, and simply lets her process what she needs to.

So he breathes slowly, letting her touch his hand before softly dragging her pointer finger along each one of his fingers, feeling his rough calluses, before gently tracing scars along his wrists, and up his forearm, and then back down to his hand.

Hands that have caused so much pain, have been covered in so much blood, but even as Meg thinks about his broad hands and the agony they've caused, she only finds comfort.

She finds home within his touch, and he lets her nestle into his hand, taking all the time she needs, until her breathing slows and she lowers the sheet with her other hand.

"I just need you," she sighs, once again resting her hand in his palm, and smiling at the size difference. "So, thank you."

Evan slowly pulls himself onto the bed, just enough so he can lift his other hand and extend it towards her face. She lets him and he curls his pointer finger so the back of it rests on her cheek, as he runs it down to her chin.

His eyes roam her face slowly, as if taking in every single one of her features, wanting to commit her, everything about her in that moment, to memory.

Then he talks, his voice sounding strained, like there is something deep clawing at him, but he pushes on.

"You went somewhere else just now, somewhere dark, and I am so sorry. You don't deserve this, but know that I will make sure you never have to go through such horror like you have. I will protect you until the end of time, Meg Thomas. Even if I go into the next life before you, you will never feel such pain again."

Leaning into his touch, tears begin to burn at her eyes as she stares at him, into his very soul.

"You better not be thinking of going to the next life without me," she says through wet tears, with a small smile on her face. "Or I swear to everything that is Holy, I will find you and make you pay for leaving me."

He lets out a quiet laugh, "You won't have to look too hard when I know I'll always be beside you. No matter what. I'll be there."

She laces her fingers through his hand on the bed and pulls up his knuckles to her face, placing soft kisses on each knuckle before looking up at him through her eyelashes.

Reaching out with her other hand, she rests it on the back of his neck before pulling him closer, needing him closer, as she brings him in for a kiss.

As soon as his lips land on hers, she feels him tense beneath her touch, and so slowly, she shifts her hand so it lays on his cheek as her thumb gently strokes his cheek.

He lets out a soft groan deep in his chest before he lifts a hand to rest on her lower back, but not to pull her closer to him, but almost as a way to stabilize himself as he sighs into the kiss.

Licking along the seam of his lips, he opens up as she smiles against his mouth, lazily kissing him as his tongue licks across hers. The kiss is lazy, comfortable, and he does not move to deepen the kiss or move past just tasting each other.

Slowly.

Softly.

Like they have all the time in the world, and all they want to do is savor each other, lost in the way he mirrors her smile against her lips, and the way he brings their interlocked fingers between them, like he never wants to let go.

He's letting her set the pace as she breaks the kiss and begins peppering small kisses along his cheeks and his nose before landing on his lips once more, causing a soft laugh to rumble through him, and she feels it in her hand that rests on his chest.

The kiss only lasts a few minutes, and surprisingly, Evan is the one to pull away, not much, but so he can see her, look at her as he sighs.

"Thank you," Meg whispers against his lips, "for being patient with me."

"You have no idea how long I've dreamt about doing that, and I do not know if I'll ever believe you would willingly let me kiss you, so, really, thank you," he whispers, kissing her knuckles in response before resting their hands back on the bed in between them.

Meg is speechless, breathless, after that kiss so she nods as a response, even if it feels inadequate to everything she wants to say.

Everything she feels.

But despite her own doubts, her nod seems to be enough for Evan, as though anything she does is enough, and he gives her hand one last kiss before standing back up.

"I should get our things packed, if we ever want to leave."

Meg is tempted to say something snarky, or sexy, thoughts flowing through her mind, especially after that kiss.

'Well what if I don't want to leave this bed?' She almost wants to utter with a raised eyebrow, and it takes every single cell of self-control to remain quiet and nod, letting Evan resume packing their bags for their journey.

The journey that is the complete opposite of sexy, and as she thinks about it, her blood runs cold and she feels the blush quickly fade from her face.

Today's the day, she swallows.

They're all going their separate ways, if only for a day or two, but yet it feels so much more monumental than it should. Maybe because there is so much at stake, so many factors that are in play, but she takes a deep breath, trying to calm her nerves.

But no matter what she does, she feels the reality of the situation begin to dawn on her, especially as she begins to hear more and more chatter from downstairs, voices floating up the stairs from the foyer.

She can't quite decipher who's there, or who's ready to go, whether it's David and Dwight joining them at Index, or the others leaving for a hotel a few towns over.

But as she thinks about her friends going to the hotel, her stomach drops, unsure what would be better for her at that moment.

It would be so easy to let them go without saying anything, not like they need a goodbye. If she makes a big deal out of it, the gravity that they're going to an unknown address in a small town in the middle of nowhere starts to feel like the wrong thing to do…

She said all she wanted to yesterday to Kate and Ace, leaving them on a positive note, and after the conversation with Claudette, she doesn't know what she could even begin to say to make them both feel better.

But Nea…

She hasn't talked to Nea since breakfast yesterday since she stormed out, and as much as she wants to believe they'll all be fine, there is a painful twist in her stomach when she thinks about leaving Nea without saying anything.

She isn't even sure what to say, but the way everything was left feels weird and foreign for them. Other than when they all got out of the realm and did not know they were out, Meg doesn't even know the last time she went a whole day without talking with Nea.

So taking in a deep breath, she scoots out of bed and begins to pull on her leggings before fussing with another red button up and tying it at her waist.

Taking a deep breath, she reaches for a small pocket knife that is on her bedside table and shoves it into her pocket, feeling both relieved to have some form of self-defense, but dreading the possibility of actually having to use it.

Evan watches her carefully with a raised brow, before resuming his packing, not saying anything. Not yet at least.

"I'm going to find Nea," Meg says as she shuffles from one foot to the other. "I feel like after how things were left yesterday…"

"Go," Evan tilts his chin towards the door with a small smile. "I'll finish packing. No need to explain yourself."

Meg smiles and nods before turning around, her stomach in knots as she reaches for the door handle.

She really isn't sure what to say, and maybe she should just let it come naturally when she sees Nea.

She isn't sorry for what she said, and hasn't regretted anything, but at the same time, it kills her that they would just leave with this gaping hole between them, and maybe she'll apologize.

Maybe she won't.

But as she nears Nea's room, she hears shuffling that tells her she's still in there and hasn't left yet, and she has to practically hold in a sigh of relief.

She doesn't know what she'd do if Nea already left.

She knocks on the door without another thought and Nea lets out a sound of acknowledgement, so she pushes open the door and sees Nea pacing around her room.

There is a bag on her bed, and from the way it looks like it is already bursting at the seams, she should be done packing, but when she really looks at the bag's contents, she has to let out a quiet laugh.

"You sure aren't packing a lot," Meg observes when she sees Nea's bag, only filled with maybe one other outfit, and packed to the brim with weapons. "I would have thought you'd focus more on food or something at the hotel."

Meg bites the inside of her cheek, regretting how icy her voice comes out at first, but she swallows down her apology as Nea's eye's snap to her.

"I'm not going to the hotel," Nea says, her voice flat but her words sound clipped, annoyed, as she sits down on her bed before reaching down for her shoes.

"Oh," Meg's eyebrows shoot up in surprise. Before she continues, her eyes catch on a bandage that is wrapped around Nea's right hand, and she's tempted to comment on that. Ask if she's okay, ask about yesterday but, instead, she asks, "Well, where are you going?"

"Where do you think?" Nea tugs on one shoe, wincing slightly as her hand catches on the sole of her shoe. "I'm not going to let David and Dwight replace me as your best friend on some journey into the unknown now, am I?"

The words are warm, but her tone is anything but as Meg furrows her brow, still unsure of what Nea is talking about.

She can't possibly be thinking of going to the address too, not after her outburst yesterday…

"I…" Nea finishes putting on her other shoe and tying her shoe laces before she rests her hands on her thighs, sighing. "Look, I don't like this. I think it's foolish and stupid to go to an address hours away that we don't know that was given to us by murdering lunatics. But…" She looks up at Meg, who is now leaning against the doorway, unable to keep her legs from shaking at the implication of Nea's words. "But you're my best friend, and I'd be a shitty best friend if I let you go to Index alone. Especially with David and Dwight, like they'd be more entertaining or helpful."

"Nea…" Meg chokes out, tears immediately forming along her eyelids as she takes a step inside. "You don't have to. I know how you feel-"

"No, I'm going. I know the big guy likes to huff and puff and say he'll die to protect you, but I also want to make sure everything works out. I guess, I want us all to get out of there, without anyone dying to protect anybody."

Meg's legs carry her over to Nea's bed before she realizes it as she throws her arms around her friend's neck, pulling her into a tight hug.

"I'm so sorry," Meg mutters while hugging Nea. "I was worried, with how everything was left the other day and I just…I don't want to do this without you."

"Well good thing you won't have to," Nea laughs, returning the hug briefly before pinching Meg's side, causing her to twitch away with a small yelp. "But I swear, if anything happens, I will either haunt you until the day you die, or follow you into the afterlife ranting at how we could be a hundred miles south, maybe somewhere warmer by now."

"I don't think a hundred miles south would make much of a difference when it comes to the weather," Meg smiles sarcastically. "But I appreciate the sentiment. Really." Her smile fades slowly as she continues, "But I really don't want anyone to get hurt. Or be in danger or…"

"What did Dwight say the other day? Strength in numbers or some shit? I feel better about joining you and at least bringing some back up. You know you, me, and David could pack a punch."

"Yeah, but, what changed your mind? You were so adamant about not going," Meg asks, not quite letting her friend get away with the nonchalant attitude she tries to pull.

Nea stormed out the other day after saying horrible things, after the both of them said horrible things, only because Meg wanted to go to the address, and yet…

Now it feels like Nea would be agreeing to go on a day vacation she isn't thrilled about.

Not the actual address that may as well feel like the final nail in their metaphorical coffin.

"Look, I guess, this is all fucked up. Like seriously, fucked up. What happened to you, what happened to us in that shit stain of a campfire, what continues to happen now that we are supposed to be living our life, but, Meg, usually things don't work out the way we want them too."

Meg frowns, not quite understanding where Nea is coming from, but lets her continue without her interrupting. She knows she'll get to the point as she continues.

"And that being said, we can't control what happens or how people react either. And well, okay bear with me."

"Okay…"

"Ace changed my mind."

"Ace?" Meg asks, shock clear in her voice. "He convinced you to go when he's going to the hotel?"

"Well, we didn't talk about it, but he got me thinking. And…well, like we've said, he is a good guy, a great guy even, but his experience since being out has been different from yours. Different from mine. And the other day, before everything that happened at breakfast…"

Nea sighs as she shakes her head. "He's not pulling a Feng and leaving to go work for the killers, but he did talk about leaving. Trying to get some semblance of a life back together that's not…here."

Oh.

The news comes as a shock, even though deep in her mind it makes sense. It's almost what she talked about with Evan yesterday.

She just wants to move on, not be in danger, wants to begin to live, and Ace…

If he feels removed from what's happening, Meg ignores the pain brewing in her stomach, then who is she to keep him from living his life?

"He is going to the hotel," Nea speaks up when Meg doesn't respond. "I made sure to get him and Kate to admit that much last night. But, that's just where his mind is at. That's where a lot of our minds want to be, away from this danger. Away from either picking between running away to a hotel or going head on into danger."

Meg lets out a sad laugh. "Yeah, that's where I wish mine was. I wish I had that privilege."

"Yeah, and Ace isn't the most agreeable person, if you don't remember," Nea agrees as she breaks eye contact, looking down at the wooden nightstand beside her bed. She begins to pick at a small spot that looks like it could give her a splinter at any moment.

"I guess, but, it's just hard, especially when we're trying to live, and if he can't just see that we are trying to make that happen."

"Yeah, I agree with you, don't get me wrong, but he's had his own battles, and this may not be a high priority for him. Frankly, Jed sucks, I don't think he's doubting that, but I feel like his own safety and happiness now that we're out is more important."

Meg pauses, letting Nea's words sink in as she looks down at her hands, her wrists still bruised with a ring of red and purple from being tied up. "Okay, I guess, but…the fact that he gets the luxury of not having this be one of his battles sucks. If he was taken instead of me-" Meg bites her tongue, not finishing her sentence. "That came out wrong."

"No," Nea interrupts as she nods, "I get it. The worst thing he has gone through so far is to be tied up in a barn, and he wasn't even questioned by the clown or Jed yet. So it feels foreign to him, unlike you, who has had too much close and personal experience with them all. I wouldn't wish that on anyone, but right now, we need to focus on us. Focus on what's important and in front of us, even if Ace isn't a part of that."

"It's not that it's Ace," Meg begins to say, realizing that it may sound like she is focused on Ace leaving, and now the fact that it's just…

"I thought that the more of us that stick together, the easier, or clearer finding out answers would be. But I guess…"

"Look," Nea interrupts, placing a hand on Meg's. "Let's just focus on what's happening now, and we can figure out the rest later, okay? Ace is the least of our worries."

After a beat of silence, Nea nods as though answering a question that wasn't asked.

"But I guess connecting to your question about what changed my mind, after thinking about where he's coming from, it just made me realize that I had a lot more to fight for, and to lose, if you and the boys went to Index and I wasn't there and something happened…" she doesn't quite finish her sentence before shaking her head. "We clearly aren't safe, and I suppose, if anyone were to go, we are one Hell of a tough group. At least it's going to be us, minus Dwight. He's not quite part of the 'tough' group but I guess another person wouldn't hurt to be there."

"Dwight actually surprised me the other day," Meg admits. "He really advocated to go, and he's the reason David agreed too. Maybe, even though he isn't the most…physically capable, he really has the initiative, the drive to want to protect what we're building. Maybe that counts for more than we give him credit for."

Nea pauses for a moment before shrugging, "Maybe. But regardless, I still hate this, but…I don't hate that I made the choice to go."

"Yeah, no, yeah, you're right," Meg shakes her head as though clearing her mind. "Thank you, for the talk though and for, well, coming with us to Index. I never would have asked you to come, you know that right?"

"I know," Nea says, giving Meg's hand a small slap before standing up. "You didn't have to. I'm sorry it took us arguing for me to realize it, but where you go, I go, okay? Even if you have a very tall, very bald shadow following you as well."

"Hey, he's not as bald anymore!" Meg can't help the giggle that erupts from her chest as she feels heat rise to her cheeks. "His hair is finally growing out."

"That wasn't the point," Nea says with a smirk as she raises her eyebrow, but just before she says anything else, there is a knock on her door.

"Aye, you ladies done?" David calls from the other side, "We've been waiting and I wanna go before the weather turns to shite."

"Hold onto your knickers," Nea calls back in a very dramatic English accent before rolling her eyes at Meg. "We're coming ya big oaf."

There is no response except for stomping leading away from the door before Nea and Meg exchange glances as a smile erupts from Meg's face, and she lets herself smile.

Lets herself almost pretend like they are going somewhere happy, somewhere warm where Meg doesn't need to worry about herself, her friends.

But that is quickly replaced once Nea picks up her bag, sharp metal sounds clanking together in her bag as she seals it, throwing it on her back.

"Well, I guess let's get to it."

Staring at each other for just a moment longer, Meg smiles, letting her chest fill with hope rather than letting it collapse under the nerves that still threaten to eat her whole.

Not only will they have one more along with them, but it's Nea.

Meg and Nea have always been a team, long before Meg and Evan, and she hopes that knowing she has the best of the best supporting her while in Index, it can only be a good sign.

Nea gives Meg a pat on the shoulder before tugging her bag on her shoulder and opening the door. She gives Meg one last nod before walking out into the hallway, and quickly Meg follows her out.

Nea has a room that overlooks the railing to the foyer, and she immediately sees David and Dwight, huddled together near the front door whispering about something Meg is too far to hear, and when she takes a deep breath to turn towards the stairs, Evan waits leaning against the wall at the top.

Nea stops in front of Evan for a moment and says something quietly that only makes Evan smile, before she walks down the stairs to join the men near the door.

Meg shoots him a questioning glance, but he merely smiles and nods as if to say Later.

Rolling her eyes, she tries not to pry as she reaches out to him, joining their hands together before starting to descend the stairs.

Thankfully, with her walking for the last day, the stairs are slightly easier, but she still holds onto Evan while taking one stair at a time until she lands in the foyer.

"Everyone else already left," Dwight speaks up, answering Meg's silent question when she briefly looks around from where she stands. "They, well, didn't want to make it a huge thing."

"Really? I didn't even get to say anything to them," Nea blurts out, rolling her eyes. "Kinda rude if you ask me."

Meg smiles but doesn't say anything, torn between being thankful they already left and how it made the decision for her whether or not to say goodbye.

She was glad she got to speak with Nea, at least, since she was her main concern, and then to find out Nea made the decision to come along kind of sealed Meg's choice that she didn't want a huge goodbye.

They will all be gone for a few days, but that's it.

Then they'll meet back up, all of them, safe and unharmed.

That's all she can tell herself, and in that moment, knowing she didn't get the chance to say bye, she doesn't let herself think anything else even as David and Nea start complaining.

Then, David swings open the door and gestures for the rest to follow, "Come on. We're burning daylight the more we stand around yappin'."

"You were literally the one complaining," Nea argues back, giving him a playful shove as he smacks the back of her head.

"All because I know the rest of you would have made a big deal about it if I didn't," he retorts before wrapping an arm around Dwight's waist. "But come on, I'm done waiting around. Let's go investigate some shit."

They begin walking, and Meg sees Dwight dramatically roll his eyes before saying something else, but it gets lost with the noise of the rest of the world around Meg as she stares forward.

"I…wow. Okay, this is it," she mutters as she forces herself to take a few steps outside, ending up on the porch. Her friends are already walking, oblivious that Evan and Meg aren't right behind them.

Evan is behind Meg, closing the door to the Estate, and the sound of the lock clicking sends shivers down her back.

This is it.

There is no one else in the house and they are off.

As they descend the porch steps, a sense of grief washes over her like a bucket of water being poured over her, and keeps her feet rooted to the spot once she hits the soft ground of the trail to the woods.

Slowly turning towards the house, it feels different, somehow.

It's empty, and quiet, and she doesn't even know the last time that it felt like this. At least not since Meg and Evan made their journey to meet her friends weeks ago, bags and donuts in hand. Even that feels more like a lifetime ago, and Meg can't help but wonder what will meet them when they come back.

If they come back.

Shaking her head, she erases that thought from her mind as she takes a deep breath, looking around the yard, trying to ignore the anxiety of the impending journey weighing on her like a slab of concrete.

She notices the garden blooming with equal potential as well as the beginnings of new fruits and vegetables, and the fact that David and Dwight decided to try and fix up the guest house, giving it a new coat of paint, with some odd handprints standing out against the side of the building.

The color compliments the forest surrounding them, as well as the sky, and in that moment, she isn't sure if it is the fact that she has barely made it out of the house in a week, or maybe it was that time of the year where everything seemed to scream with vibrance as the colors stood out even more than before.

Or maybe, just maybe it is because she is setting off on this journey completely different, her relationship with Evan completely different, and she feels like she is leaving somewhere she can finally call home.

Never in her wildest dreams would she have thought that in just a month, Evan, and this place, would become more important to her than anything in the world. Evan would become her safety net, her comfort, her savior.

None of those things she ever thought she'd feel again, and yet…

His hand brushes against hers, his rough knuckles grazing the outside of her hand, an invitation, and she grabs onto his lacing her fingers within his so fast, she hardly has to think about it.

His hand clamps down on hers, tight, as they walk in silence, juxtaposing the first time they walked this trek where she couldn't stop asking him questions.

But now, she walks in silence, attempting to bask in the soft glow of the sun peeking through the trees, as well as Evan's calming energy relaxing her with every step.

She isn't sure what to expect from this address, nor does she know what she wants to see.

All she can seem to focus on is ending this, once and for all.

But is she ready to do that within the couple of hours it takes to drive there?

On top of that, her walking pace still isn't as fast as she would want it to be, but walking around, stretching her sore muscles the last day has helped with the pain, so she grits her teeth and tries not to let it bother her.

But as Nea, David, and Dwight get further and further from them, it takes everything in her to keep the bubbling frustration within herself.

Her friends all look as solemn as she feels, and she already has to tell herself that they chose to come along. They chose this. So getting frustrated that they walk faster will do nothing to calm anyone.

But then why does her stomach twist uncomfortably with every step at the possibility of something happening to them?

You chose to go to the address. They're putting themselves in danger because of you. You can hardly defend yourself, and if something happens, it would be your fault.

Her lip quivers as she takes in a shaky breath, one that Evan doesn't miss as he stops for a moment. Stepping in front of Meg slightly, he puts his other hand, the one that doesn't grasp her hand tightly, on her shoulder.

"Are you okay?" He asks, scanning her face once before bringing his hand up to gently rest on her cheek.

Yes.

No.

"Is this the right idea?" She asks quietly, wanting to hear his opinion. She believes she's doing the right thing, but also believing she is doing the right thing has led her to everything that has happened to her in the past.

What if she thought this was the right idea because she was mad yesterday? What if this is a mistake?

What if-

"Well, I am not thrilled about the idea of you coming along with me," he says as he stares into her eyes. "If I had my way, you would be far away from that address, far away from where Jed and Herman would be able to get to you." Meg is about to retort but Evan beats her to it as he continues, "But I know without you here, Meg, I would be going insane with worry. At least if you're with me, I can protect you, and I know you're safe."

"Plus, I can protect you, right?" Meg muses as she purposely pokes at his arm before cupping his hand that caresses her face. "I think it's about time for me to fight someone for your honor like you've done for me."

Evan lets out a quiet laugh before tucking a piece of her behind her ear and turning to begin walking once more, "Of course," he replies as they both continue slowly, silently. "But," Evan starts again, his voice void of all humor that was just dancing between them. "If we see Jed or even Herman, we are leaving. Immediately."

Jed.

Herman.

Meg can't say that she forgot about the possibility of them being at the address, but she also began to convince herself that they might not be. She never let her mind wander too close to the possibility of seeing them again, not after she barely made it out alive from their torture. Instead, she kept that possibility tucked away like a sinister seed, planted so deep in her chest that she refused to let it blossom.

She only wanted to check it out, see if there was something left for them, something to find that might answer some question. Even if it's just another goddamned note Jed likes to write.

Not that they'd be there themselves, especially when they're supposed to come to the Estate.

But now…

As much as she immediately wants to argue, wants to tell Evan that this may be their only chance, might be what they've been looking for all along, she doesn't.

Instead she nods, giving Evan's hand a squeeze while taking in a deep breath.

"Okay," she says quietly, "Okay."

Evan glances at her with his eyebrows raised in surprise. "I was half expecting to have to convince you to agree."

Meg rolls her eyes, "I mean I'm not thrilled at leaving when this could be some of the answers we're looking for but I don't know if I can…"

Her throat closes around her words, and Evan doesn't push the subject as she closes her eyes for just a moment, grounding herself to the world around her.

She can't survive another encounter with them like she had the last time. Her whole life has become living in fear of Jed, of Herman.

So she listens to the birds around her, and the way the wind moves through the trees, and the way Evan's breathing remains steady, strong, beside her, giving her the confidence to ask something that has been on her mind, especially the last few days.

It's not even the matter of 'If' but when they see Jed again, what are they really going to do?

Instinctively, Meg reaches for the knife that she has stashed in her pocket, feeling the handle, the weight of it balanced against her leg.

It's a weapon if she needs to use it, but the only other time she tried to use it ended up with her on the floor, writhing beneath Jeffrey.

Stop.

She can't let herself think back to that, so she takes a deep breath, focusing back on the question at hand.

Before the Entity, while working at the diner and not having a car, she kept pepper spray and a taser on her as something for self-defense, but it was nothing like what they may be walking into.

She might have to use this to injure someone.

To kill.

"Evan…" she begins. Evan hums in acknowledgement to continue, and Meg looks at the ground as she walks, not wanting to look at him. "We keep saying we will end this, stop Jed and Herman, but…" she hesitates, the question on the tip of her tongue, waiting to be asked, but she isn't sure if she will like the answer. "How? The only option is to kill them and well…"

She thinks back to Jeffrey, and how relieved she felt when Evan stabbed him, and he laid on the floor, unmoving, and when she finally knew he was dead, it was like a weight lifted from her. But she isn't sure if she could be the one to kill him, or to kill Jed in the future.

There is no doubt that she wants to, oh how she wants him to suffer, to pay for the things he did, and continues to do, but when she thinks about herself being the one to pull the trigger, she tenses up.

"If it comes down to it, I'm not sure if I can be the one to kill them," Meg finally finishes her sentence. "And I'm not asking you to be the one to do it either, but, it's kind of an important detail. What if…what if we can't just leave if they're at the address? What if it comes down to fighting our way out? I'm sure David wouldn't be opposed to fighting them but…" She takes a deep breath. "When it comes to ending things, once and for all, I wish we talked about this sooner with everyone."

Evan remains silent for a moment, lost in thought. Her friends are too far ahead to ask them at that moment as they begin to blur in with the trees.

"I would have never asked or expected you or your friends to be the ones to harm them. I've already bloodied my hands by harming others, and I always assumed I would be the one," Evan says without missing a beat. He wraps his arm around Meg's shoulders, pulling her closer to him as they walk. "I always say I am here to protect you, and that means doing what is necessary for your safety, including getting rid of those who wish to harm you. I never wanted to make it seem like it would fall on your shoulders."

Meg breathes out a sigh of relief. "Okay, I just didn't want you to think it would fall on your shoulders either."

"I never thought twice of it. Herman and I have unfinished business, and after everything Jed did to you, he needs to pay for it all. They both do."

"You know," she begins to say as she blinks slowly. Maybe bringing this up now isn't the best time, but it changes the subject, at least to something that they haven't talked about.

Something that is long overdue.

"You never have told me why you hate Herman so much."

Evan stiffens beside her, and she can practically feel the tension radiate from his body as he doesn't say anything, looking forward. His eyes gloss over and Meg can tell he's living it, remembering it just like she does when she begins to think of everything that has happened.

"We've talked almost incessantly about Jed, but Herman seems to slip through the cracks even though he is a part of this just as much as any of us," her stomach churns and immediately her mouth tingles and she feels like she will be sick the more they talk about Herman. "You don't have to face any of this alone, or keep any of the pain to yourself. Clearly something happened between you two back in the realm, there's no denying it."

"I am not denying that," Evan mutters as he looks down at their intertwined hands. "But I never thought I would have to tell you, or rather, you don't need to hear more horror from that place. It all ends the same."

"But it doesn't," Meg points out as her voice lifts, "It hasn't ended yet, and we can keep other things from happening. They are human and so are we. We can stop them, but we need to know what we're up against."

Evan nods slowly, almost so minuscule that Meg almost misses it until she looks at him and gives him a shaky smile.

"They can be stopped," she says, her voice small as she reminds him almost as much as she needs to remind herself, "They're human like us and they can be stopped."

He doesn't respond, but his mouth twitches into a sad smile as the trees begin to thin and she sees her friends waiting by the road for their ride. So she doesn't push the subject, at least not in that moment.

Herman isn't an easy subject for him, and sometimes Meg thinks he hates Herman more than Jed, which is surprising, even to her. To her, Jed is the true evil, true villain, and Herman is someone who is just as twisted, just as menacing, but nothing compares to Jed.

Not to her.

But when she thinks of those times someone mentions Jed unexpectedly to her, when she isn't in control of the conversation, she knows how it feels for her chest to squeeze so tight, she can't breathe, and now her hands begin to sweat and her blood turns ice cold.

Evan is better at hiding his emotions, he always has been to a degree, but when Herman comes into the picture, he freezes up.

She knows that feeling all too well.

So she gives him time, breathes with him as they walk, holding his hand, grounding him in the present until he can talk about Herman, and know that finally talking about what happened is for everyone's protection, including his own.

Not that he would ever think of his own safety, so Meg takes it upon herself to keep him safe.

Keep him sane.

He deserves that and more, even if he can't recognize it himself.

Soon they get closer to her friends, Meg not pushing the Herman subject yet, and before they reach the road, a small car pulls up and rolls down the window, yelling something at Nea who scowls in response.

As Meg nears, she hears Nea curse and pull up her phone.

"Well shit, I thought I got a van. We won't all fit," she mutters as she walks up to the small man in the car.

"Well the address is near a hiking trail," Dwight speaks up, "We can meet there. We can take this car and you two," he says gesturing to Meg and Evan, "Can meet us at the trail. Or if you want to go first."

"We can go first," David says, his face stoic as a muscle in his neck twitches. "I really don't trust our girl here not to run off if she got there first." He lets out a sound that is a mix between a laugh and a scoff as he elbows Meg's side.

He's trying to make a joke, she realizes as she rubs at her side. But his tone falls flat and it feels too forced for anyone to laugh along with him.

"I'm not going to run off into danger," Meg starts, but is then cut off by Nea walking back to the group.

"Says the one who is literally wanting to go off into danger," she chides.

Meg's frown deepens. "You guys didn't have to come if you think it's so dangerous."

"And let you have all the fun?" David interrupts as Nea rolls her eyes. "Look, we know what we're getting into. We can take this car and wait by the hiking trail."

"It's pretty popular," Dwight speaks up, resting a hand on Meg's shoulder. "We'll be fine and we'll text you as soon as we get there. Text us when you're close."

"Okay…" Meg breathes out, not quite liking that they offered to go first when they are all here because she refused to go to the hotel.

But…

No, David's right, she reassures herself. They could be at the hotel if they wanted.

"Be careful," Nea says, rubbing her arm as she glances at Meg and Evan. "While you're waiting, I mean. And I swear if you don't text us when you get there-"

"We will," Meg says with a small smile. "We'll get a car and be right behind you."

The group all exchange glances, no one quite wanting to be the first to separate but as the seconds tick by, the heated stare of the man in the car becomes more apparent when no one moves to get in.

He even goes as far as honking the horn before Nea lets out a frustrated sigh and swings around, flipping the man off before grabbing Meg's hand quickly.

"We'll see you in a bit. I promise," she says, nothing warm in her voice but she gives Meg's hand a reassuring squeeze before letting go and stomping over to the car.

"You're on our time. We're paying for you to be here, man. Couldn't give us a minute-" she mutters until she ducks into the car and slams the door. David and Dwight join her in the back seat before the car practically peels off in impatience.

Meg doesn't have the chance to give her friends one last reassuring glance before they turn the corner and they're off.

Quickly, Meg pulls out the phone she has and punches in directions to Index before requesting another car.

"Well," Meg speaks up, her voice feeling too loud for her own ears as she stares at the road. "I guess we'll wait. And, maybe I think it's time to talk about Herman," she adds softly, gently rubbing his arm as she guides them towards a nearby tree to sit under. Evan doesn't fight her, not one bit as he follows her towards the shade while she continues, "At least, while we're waiting, please. I know this isn't something you'd ever want to talk about, but I think if we are putting everything together, I need to know what happened."

"You're right," Evan speaks up, his voice strained as though it were caught in his throat. "I should have told you long before now. Maybe that would have saved you from him."

"Evan, that's unfair," Meg frowns as she slowly sits, holding onto Evan's hand as she pulls him down to sit beside her. "What happened, happened. Nothing can change it, and I doubt anything would have stopped me that night. It's not like I knew that's what I would have walked in on."

She shoots him a reassuring smile as he finally sits, his back leaning on the tree as he stretches out one leg in front of him.

"I suppose. Although I'm unsure about where to even begin," Evan says as he grabs Meg's hand and brings the back of it to his lips, closing his eyes and breathing in deep.

"Take your time," Meg says, scooting closer. "Just start at the beginning."

Evan nods before remaining silent. Meg gives him time, as much time as he needs as they sit against the tree, taking in the wind, the trees, the birds chirping above them.

"There was this survivor…a young woman, much like," Evan says suddenly, only pausing to clear his throat, "much like you."

"Really?" Meg asks, mouth already open in shock. "I didn't know there were others before us…I mean…I guess that makes sense but…"

Swallowing the realization, she looks at the grass.

Sure, she thought there were others, especially if she was only there for a decade, and she was one of the newest ones in her group, and yet some of the killers like Evan have been there for over a century. But what does this have to do with Herman?

"She was the best of them, and it infuriated me to no end," Evan continues, interrupting Meg's thought process. "When I saw I was in a trial with her, I knew I would see the Entity afterwards due to how she seemed to know every move I would make before I even knew. I don't remember ever hooking her, and through all the hatred I had for her, there was a hint of something else there."

There's a strange sensation deep in Meg's stomach as she listens to him talk about this other survivor. Is it jealousy?

Taking a deep breath, she nods, welcoming him to keep talking, and figuring that she will find out more if she doesn't jump to conclusions. Evan hesitates for a moment, looking away from Meg, but squeezing her hand tighter as he takes in a deep breath.

"The feelings weren't of any importance," he says with a small smile as he looks back at Meg and sees her signature frown begin to form with the small crease between her eyebrows when she disapproves.

Raising his hand, he quickly taps the crease in her eyebrows before continuing as though reassuring her, "There was no attraction, but, I suppose I looked up to her in a way," he says, grabbing Meg's hand once more as he draws lazy circles around Meg's hand with his thumb.

"She appeared to know so much, and was so used to this realm, these trials, and it had me wondering how long had she been there? The clothes she wore, I had never seen anything like it, at least in my time. I read about the garments being worn in Scotland by women in the 1600s, but my mind refused to believe she was from then.

"When I was young, after I found out my heritage, and the MacMillan name deriving from a clan in Scotland, I took about a year to research Scottish history. Now, I realize it was a way to escape the current MacMillan name, and perhaps find something to make me proud to be a MacMillan." He waves his hand in the air dismissively as he continues. "But that isn't important. What was is that this young woman was very much not from the 1800s, and was wearing garments I only read about and saw drawn in pictures."

He takes a moment, taking in a deep breath. Meg lets him take all the time he needs as she rests a palm on his chest, almost feeling the way his heart pounds rapidly beneath her touch Moving her thumb in small circles she gives him an encouraging smile, letting him gather his thoughts.

"Now," he begins, "whether the Entity can pull from various times, or if the trials have been going on since the beginning of time, I am not sure, but it was clear there were others that came before me, and others that seem to appear the longer I stayed."

Meg contemplates this for a moment as Evan doesn't continue talking, at least not right away. The Entity.

She was never sure what it was, or what it meant to be there, but it never quite occurred to her that there were others, and that almost seems silly in hindsight. But where did they go?

"Maybe," she begins, her face scrunched in thought, "the Entity keeps certain people for a period of time and then lets them go? Once the Entity 'feeds' enough or whatever, maybe it has no more use for us and it gets a whole other…batch?"

"Perhaps," Evan muses, though the way he shakes his head tells Meg he doesn't quite agree, "But either way, there were survivors when I first got there that I haven't seen in decades. Then I saw you, and your friends, and suddenly I began to see more and more as time went on, but I never saw the ones I did when I was taken."

"What do you think happened to them?" She asks as she picks at her fingernails, not sure if she wants to hear his theory or not.

"Herman once told me about this place, he called it the Void, and said that he theorized that once the Entity was done with us, that we get sent there. When we first got out, I thought that's where I was. Those woods, though, the life there, the birds and the wind, I assumed something referred to as 'the Void' wouldn't have living beings."

"Maybe that's where we were meant to go but the Entity messed up somehow, sent us here," Meg contributes with a small shrug.

Evan nods and squeezes Meg's hand.

"I think that's something Herman spent a lot of time trying to figure out."

"Why would he want to know that?"

Taking in a deep breath and shaking his head slightly, Evan answers quietly, "I'm not sure. I did not stick around long enough to listen."

"Stick around where?"

The mood shifts around them, and Evan tenses beside Meg as he looks down at the ground. The hand that rests on Meg's thigh tightens until his fingers begin to dig into her skin. His knuckles turn white and his face darkens as he begins to talk, his voice low and hoarse, as though he had been screaming for hours.

Is it really that bad?

Meg thinks back to when he first saw Herman at the hospital,, and the look he gave him, she doesn't think she has ever seen him that upset.

"The young woman I mentioned, she disappeared from the trials, or at least from mine. I began to think that she was simply getting called to other trials, and, selfishly, I was thankful. As I said, she had a way of always evading me, and always humiliating me enough to where I would go through torture with her, the Entity."

He swallows thickly, his breathing becoming shallow. Meg raises her hand to rest on his back as she rubs small circles between his shoulder blades, trying to comfort him, even just a little bit. This has to be difficult to talk about, and she doesn't think she ever asked him what happened when they escaped in the trials.

Her friends and her, they talked about it briefly, and all came to the conclusion that the killers had it easy. They just needed to kill and they moved onto the next trial. But there was a small part of her that would remember those times where they would show up, more twisted and bloody after trials that she remembers doing particularly well in.

But there was no sympathy, no hesitation in her mind, and she was almost glad that they suffered a little bit, maybe. She never gave it much thought after that though, and she would focus on her own survival, her own avoidance to the pain and torture.

Evan's voice breaks through her thoughts as he continues.

"As you know, time, it ceased to exist in the realm. There were times after the trails where the Entity called on me, and tortured me endlessly. There was no end, and it almost felt as though there was no beginning. She would rip at my skin, layer after layer until I was nothing but muscle and bone, tear my bones apart, stuff more metal inside my muscles, my organs, inject me with toxins that felt like my blood turned to lead and boiled inside my veins and through this, I became the pain.

"I wished more than anything to die, and I would have done anything to make the pain stop. But it felt like it never did. Whether this torture went on for minutes, hours, days, years, I wasn't sure, except it was an endless cycle of agony. Then just as quickly as it began, it stopped, and I was usually immediately sent in another trial, doing it all over, and hoping I would perform well enough that I wouldn't see Her again after the trial ended. I always went through this after a trial with the young woman."

She feels sick.

Her stomach wretches and her face is already wet with tears as she looks at Evan, her Evan, describing the most heinous things that were done to him, for no reason.

No fucking reason.

Only so the Entity could feed, or laugh, or be entertained or whatever it got from the trials it put them through.

"Did…" she begins to say, but as she opens her mouth she tastes salty tears on her lips. Quickly wiping away her tears, she straightens her posture, trying to regain her composure. Evan looks over at her as she wipes her face for a second time as fresh tears leak from her eyes.

His mouth is turned downward, and his features almost contort from the pain at remembering his torture; Meg knows how that feels, but her chest physically aches thinking about Evan going through that for years.

Decades.

Lifting up a hand, he wipes her tears away with his thumb and immediately pulls her closer to his chest, "I'm sorry," he mumbles into her hair. "I'm so sorry I didn't mean to make you cry."

As soon as his arms wrap around her back, she crawls into his lap, resting her hand against his chest as a sob escapes her mouth with a laugh. Her words are muffled by his shirt but she begins rambling apologies faster than her brain can keep up, "Why are you sorry? I'm sorry. I…I didn't even go through that and I've never asked or even thought about how bad it was for you. It has always been me crying and remembering the past but you…you had it so much worse. Evan, I'm sorry, you didn't deserve that. I'm so-"

Evan runs his fingers through her hair, gently shushing her as her tears begin to dry, the pit in her stomach grows and begins to burn with anger, with rage at the things that happened. Not bothering to move, Meg continues to rest her cheek on Evan's now damp shirt. Running her tongue across her dry lips, her mouth feels like sandpaper and her throat hurts.

"I'm sorry," she apologizes one more time, "I just…Evan MacMillan, you deserve a world with no pain. After this, after everything with Herman and Jed, we are going to build a life together where we can be happy. Free."

Evan kisses the top of her head before continuing to gently play with her hair.

"I like the sound of that. But before that happens, I should finish my story, if you're ready for it."

Is she? The mere mention of the torture he went through was enough to send her into a spiraling mess, and he didn't even get to the part about Herman.

She should be ready, she knows this, but the realization at what the killers went through is surprising.

Why would Herman and Jed ever want to go back to that?

"Can I ask one more thing? Not to bring you back there but, I'm just curious," Meg asks quietly as she takes one of Evan's hands and tangles their fingers together.

"When are you not?" Evan responds, and she feels his chest move in time with his laugh.

"Oh stop, I'm serious," she says, pulling away from him so she can look at him face-to-face now that she's on his lap.

Giving a small nod, Evan's jaw twitches before resting his hand on the back of her neck, his fingers slipping beneath her hair.

"The torture, did it happen to all of you?" she forces herself to say, the words fumbling out of her mouth unnaturally, "Because I noticed sometimes, there were killers like Jed, or even the Legion that all looked, well, normal. Or as normal as you can get in that place."

Moments pass in silence as Evan breaks eye contact and looks just past Meg's head. She doesn't mind, and she gives him time, all the time he needs like he always does with her.

"I'm not sure. I believe some of us were tortured more, but maybe it was because we did not want to be there, and were tortured into submission. I fought the trials, especially when I was first taken."

"But," Meg says slowly, finishing Evan's sentence, "The ones that looked…unharmed enjoyed the trials, therefore they weren't tortured? Or at least not as aggressively?"

Evan raises his eyebrows and nods. "That was my understanding, though I did not have a definite answer, as I stayed away from most of them. But it would make sense."

Meg assumed that to be the case, or at least had always noticed how some of the killers looked more human, and others were twisted and made to look grotesque. It seemed unfair, and if what they think is true, it makes the reality of the realm that much worse.

"But Herman," Meg says as the thought comes to mind, "he looked horrifying in the trials, but he wants to go back. Do you think he was tortured just as much?"

"I believe he did a lot of that to himself," Evan mutters as he raises a hand and runs it down his face. "In his free time, he got into things he never should have."

"Like what?"

"Well, the survivor," Evan begins saying, not quite answering Meg's question as his hand remains resting on his face as though trying to keep himself where he is in that moment. "As I said, she disappeared from my trials. I was relieved, as I felt like I had a chance at the trials then. But as time went on, and trial after trial came and went without her, I found it odd."

Meg rests her hands on his biceps as he talks, gently massaging his arms as his whole body tenses, retelling a story that Meg is sure he never wants to relive.

"One day, after a trial, Herman was waiting for me by my shack, covered in blood and leaning against a tree. The blood wasn't concerning, as you know it was almost as common as water, if not more common. But what stood out was what he was holding. It was a dress, it was supposed to be white with green embroidery, and had a red, green and yellow tartan, but it was stained in blood, almost as though he soaked the dress in a pool of it.

"He stood there, a smile on his face, as the tartan dripped blood every few seconds. It was the last thing I had seen the survivor wear during the last trial I was in with her. After a brief exchange, he convinced me to see what he was up to back at his lab."

"Lab? He had a lab?" Meg asks. "Was he researching things there or just…"

She doesn't finish her sentence.

"The treatment theater, the same one that would appear in trials, existed for him outside of trials as well, and he used various rooms in there to conduct experiments. He frequently came to the woods asking if I would like to see what he has been up to, but I declined each time. I never particularly cared, nor did I want to know, but as he held that dress, something in me pushed to go with him."

---

"Herman, tell me what you want to show me, or I'm not going with you," Evan says, attempting to make his voice sound bored as he walks closer to the man leaning against the tree.

"Oh come now, you never want to see my research," Herman points out with a smile almost too big for his face etched on his skin. He doesn't wear his headpiece, not outside of trials, Evan notices, and he almost wonders if that was part of his power in the trials. Not that it concerned him, nor did he care, but with the frequency of Herman being in trials, the apparatus had slowly grown his smile, stretched it out across his face.

The smile looked uncanny, especially when Herman doesn't say anything and simply stares at Evan, the smile forced on his face.

"There's a reason," Evan responds, "Now get off my property before I force you to leave. Be careful of the bear traps on the way out."

"I made it this far, do you think a few bear traps would stop me?" Herman chides as he waves the bloody dress in front of him as though Evan managed to miss it.

He tries his best to ignore it, ignore Herman as he walks past him, but as he hears the Doctor start laughing, the sound grates on his nerves, causing him to stop and turn his head slightly over his shoulder.

"I think you'll really like what I have back at my lab. I know you know who this belongs to," Herman coos while holding up the bloody dress.

Evan turns around slowly, his mind shutting off as he looks at the Doctor. He has tricked him before, and this could very well be another one of those times.

Then why does he find his feet moving back toward Herman, and his mouth opening before he can think about his next words.

"I'll go with you this time," he hisses through clenched teeth, "But if I see anything that is inhumane, I won't hesitate to kill you."

Herman pushes himself off of the tree with a gentle laugh, yet says nothing as he beckons for Evan to follow him.

Evan doesn't follow, not right away, his feet suddenly feeling like lead as he stares at the bloody dress that waves gently in Herman's hand. For a moment, he's tempted to let Herman walk away, and maybe he won't notice Evan not following until it's too late.

Evan could take a walk and maybe Herman would lose interest in whatever he wanted to show him. But then he stares at the dress, and something compels him to start walking slowly.

The two men walk silently through the woods, Evan carefully avoiding where he placed traps on the ground earlier, and secretly he hopes Herman might step in one as they walk. To his disappointment, this doesn't happen, and it almost seems like Herman knew the exact location of traps because every time he was close, so close to one, he would veer just to the side, narrowly missing it.

Evan doesn't let himself think too hard on just how Herman knows where they were as his eyes stay glued to the dress.

It was once a beautiful color, and even though it was impractical to wear in something like the trials, the survivor he was sure it belonged to always made it work somehow.

As though the dress was just as much a part of her than anything, and it almost felt weird to see the dress without the survivor in it.

Swallowing a growing lump in his throat, Evan continues walking, keeping his breathing in check and steps even. Herman is clearly trying to get a reaction from him, and he isn't going to give him one.

Refuses to give him one, so he keeps walking.

The trip doesn't take too long and soon the trees begin to thin before opening up to a dark clearing where the Treatment Theatre sat, nestled between the trees. The building was huge, and the lights flashing inside casted eerie shadows across the ground and onto the forest surrounding it.

A dark sense of dread began creeping through Evan, so slowly, he barely felt it as it tingled up his legs, worming its way through his stomach, up his chest and through his arms, until suddenly, his chest squeezed and all he felt was overwhelming dismay with every step.

The theatre both felt and looked unnatural, even in a place like this, and it almost felt as though it were dropped from the sky and into the forest, infesting the realm like a cancer.

Maybe it was. There was nothing natural about this place, even in the realm, and every single nerve in Evan tingles with every step closer to the entrance.

He watches Herman disappear through the front doors, throwing them open as if to welcome himself home, and that's when the smell hits Evan.

He isn't even at the doors and yet it somehow smells worse than it does in the trials. After a while, all of the realms begin to smell the same, and all smell like blood, rotting animals, rust, and death. It is not a smell Evan could ever become accustomed to, but it was somehow better than the smell that currently invaded his senses.

Lifting his arm up, he covers his nose as he stops for a moment, looking over at Herman who gestures for Evan to continue inside with his signature smile on his face.

"What is that?" Evan asks, feeling his eyes water and his lungs grip with each breath.

"Discovery."

Evan doesn't respond, he can't even open his mouth feeling like he could almost taste the decay on his tongue. Along with rotting flesh and blood, there was a sickly strong smell of disinfectant, mixed with what Evan could equate to sewage, decaying flesh and disease. It was stronger than in the trials, but Herman walks as though he doesn't smell it, or doesn't mind it.

Taking a step into the building, the sound of broken glass beneath his boots makes him stop for a moment as he listens to the building creak and groan, almost as though it were telling a story of the horrors these walls have seen.

"Okay, I'm here. Tell me what is going on so I can leave," Evan says, letting his arm fall to his side, but trying his best to alternate between breathing through his nose and his mouth, not sure which was worse.

"No, no, come come. Now that I have you here, I can't just let you see the entrance. There is someone special I want to show you."

With each footstep, Evan fights the urge to turn and walk the other way, go back to his shack, back to his own darkness, feeling exposed and out of place with the bright lights that shine across the dirty floor and walls.

Herman occasionally gives him directions, and points to various rooms and says something that Evan ignores. He can barely hear the other man over his own heartbeat and his footsteps, crunching on broken glass and medical equipment.

Soon, though, Herman gestures to a stark metal door, with what looks like blood and something else yellowish and opaque smeared across the surface. Evan doesn't even want to guess what that is as he swallows hard.

"Go ahead," Herman speaks as he moves behind Evan. "I'll let you in first, to take in the full sight."

Evan doesn't move right away, as though trying to listen for a hint of what is behind the door. There is no window for him to see what's behind it, but no noises make their way through the crack in the door either.

"If this is a trap-"

"Oh come now, why would I lead you into a trap? I may be curious about many things, but harming another fellow killer is at the bottom of my list."

"But it is on your list," Evan mutters, frowning deep but not taking his eyes off the door.

Herman doesn't respond more than a quiet laugh, and Evan can practically feel him grinning behind him.

Sighing, Evan takes a step forward, just wanting to get this over with and maybe the sooner he does, the sooner he can be back in his shack, away from this place.

Finally gathering the courage, he pushes open the door, but before he can fully take in the room, he hears her before he sees her. Soft whimpers echo almost in time with the sound of rattling chains along the walls of the small, dimly lit room. The sound is one that is familiar to him, it's a sound of pain, of desperation, of resignation.

It's a sound he often hears from the survivors while being left to die on hooks during trials, but here…here he shouldn't be hearing that.

There should be no reason why he would hear a survivor, but as he takes a step into the room, his eyes land on a woman, stripped naked and covered in blood, strapped to a cold metal table in the center.

Evan feels his pulse rise and his stomach twist as the realization hits him.

It's her.

The survivor that went missing from his trials. The one he hasn't seen in what feels like ages.

There is a dim overhead adjustable light as though they were in an operating theater, and an IV hooked up to her on the side, but other than that, the room is bare and Evan can feel a draft, sending ice cold shivers down his spine as he freezes, unsure at what he is looking at.

This is impossible…

He closes his eyes for a moment, gathering his thoughts while trying to make sense of what is in front of him. There's no way Herman has a woman here. It's breaking every "rule" set out that Evan has known from the beginning. The survivors live at their campfire, and the killers live in their respective realms.

There is no crossing unless in a trial.

But here…

"She's a beauty, isn't she?" Herman says as he lays a hand on Evan's arm, gently pushing him aside so he can enter the room. He doesn't know if he can even open his eyes, as the smell of fresh and dried blood both invade his nostrils, but surprisingly enough, the soft cries don't get louder at Herman's voice.

Maybe…maybe this is an illusion. He wouldn't put it past the Entity to give Herman something to work on, an illusion, or even something from his past. If that's the case, then it has nothing to do with Evan, and he doesn't know why he's there to begin with.

Gathering every single ounce of strength, Evan finally opens his eyes as his gaze lands on the woman's head first, and he is completely unprepared for what he sees. The world spins but he stands his ground, unable to think clearly as his eyes fall on two dark bloody holes where her eyes once were but are now gone, plucked out.

He doesn't even know what color they were.

Fresh blood leaks from the gaping wounds, mixing in with her own wet tears, streaming down her face as she cries.

"She's a crier that is for sure," Herman speaks up as he walks around the table to check her IV. Evan ignores him as he watches her tears fall down her cheeks, her temple, and mix in with her hair that now sits matted and in clumps around her head.

Her hair, it once was blonde, he knows that, but now he could be tricked into thinking it was red with the way it is coated in blood, both old and new as it dries and sticks around her face.

Upon further inspection, he then notices that her eyes aren't the only source of blood on her head as he sees dark red streaks coming from her ears, the dried blood flaking with each movement as she shivers uncontrollably.

She makes no movement or sound to show that she knows that they're there, and Evan collapses, resting his hands on his knees as he takes in deep breaths.

Her whole body is uncovered and she shakes violently, the chains holding her into place rattling against the cold metal table. There are deep cuts, and black, purple, and yellow bruises that mare her body, and a puddle of blood that settles between her legs, with handprints and bite marks that break the skin along her upper thighs.

"Herman…" Evan whispers, mortified, his voice hoarse as he takes a step back, his back hitting the wall behind him with a dull thud. "Herman, what have you done?"

"This? I made her into her very own sensory deprivation chamber. Without sight or sound, every touch, every cut is amplified, no matter how painful or pleasurable," he says as he looks down at her, smiling at her like she was someone important to him, not someone he has brutally mutilated. "Watch," he breathes out as he raises a finger, and so very softly rests it on her shoulder.

As soon as he makes contact, she begins screaming, writhing and pulling at her restraints on the table. Her back arches and her feet kick as best as they can despite being restrained. Blood begins to fall from her open wounds faster, bleeding along her torso and head especially as her blood pressure rises the more she screams.

"One touch sends her into despair," Herman manages to yell over her screams. "I was interested to see how that affects people here. Will she regain what was lost once she returns to the campfire? Or will she be disposed of now that she cannot participate in the trials? Where will she go if she loses her purpose?"

Evan doesn't listen, doesn't want to listen as he stares, wide-eyed and horrified at the woman before him.

He was thankful she was gone.

He didn't think anything of it, and he was just thankful that she wasn't being put into his trials.

If he had known she was here all along…

Her screams echo in his mind, becoming a permanent sound on his brain, etched into his ear drums. His vision starts to go blurry as his chest rises and falls, his heart beat pounding in his chest, his ears, his head as his vision turns red.

As red as her blood.

"You absolute bastard!" Evan yells, lunging at Herman. "What do you think you're doing?"

"Oh come now, don't tell me you care for the girl?" Herman provokes with a sly smile.

"It should not matter if I do or don't. What you are doing is…" Evan is at a loss for words as the survivor, he doesn't even know her name, cries and pleads in front of him.

"Please, no more, please just let me die, please please please" all fill the air, her voice hoarse from screaming, from crying, from the agony Evan can only imagine Herman has put her through.

"What I am doing is research," Herman finishes Evan's sentence, ignoring the woman's whimpering. "This realm is a mystery, something none of us know about. If I can figure out pathways, the limits of the Entity's power, perhaps I can figure out how to do more with what we have here."

"There is nothing that we should be doing here."

"But why not?" Herman yells enthusiastically. He slams his hands on the metal table, earning a shriek from the woman that he ignores as he continues. "We have the trials, sure, but outside of that, there is so much we could figure out. So much to learn, and who knows how that can change the trajectory of the future, of our own reality, and perhaps we can get out someday, harnessing the power we were given here."

"What is the end goal? What could you possibly hope to obtain from this wretched place?"

"Knowledge, dear boy, knowledge. Knowledge in the right hands is power, and I am willing to cross those lines in order to obtain that of which others are frightened of! Don't you see?"

Evan huffs, breathing through flared nostrils as he looks between Herman and the woman strapped to the table.

"Let her go," he settles on saying, his voice dark and low. "Or so help me…"

"You'll do what? Attack me? Kill me perhaps? Do it! I can almost guarantee I won't die, at least not for long, and where I go next, if not here, it'll be a whole new place to study."

---

"So?" Meg asks, her face now a sickly shade of green as she stares at the ground, her eyes wide. "Did you…did you do it? Kill him?"

Evan looks away from Meg, his face blanched and his eyes closed as he responds quietly, "No. I walked away."

Meg's mouth forms a small o, surprised that he didn't. There have been times since being out that she has seen him angry and has seen what he is capable of, even without the influence of the Entity, and the fact that he walked away from Herman in that moment sounds so unlike him.

Not that she says this out loud, she doesn't think she ever could, not with how he looks as he tells the story. He didn't make eye contact, nor did he hold her hand like he always does.

"I was a coward," he mutters, still looking at the grass and not at Meg. "A true coward. Out of all the times I could have done something, anything in the realm to help, I chose to walk away."

"That sounds like an impossible situation that you were put in though, having to make a decision like that-"

"No," Evan spits out, his tone so sharp it makes Meg jump slightly in his grasp. Turning his head towards Meg as he lifts his hands up, resting them on her hips, he looks down at her legs, repeating himself, "No," he says softer. "This is one of those times, Meg, I do not deserve your kindness, or rationality at my behavior. I was stuck there, wallowing in my own self-pity, and I chose to walk away from someone who needed my help. Who knows what more he did to her after I left."

"Did you ever see her again? After that?" Meg asks, resting a hand on his cheek, coaxing him to turn so he faces her.

He leans into her touch as he raises a hand over hers, his eyes finally finding her own as he answers, "No. Soon after that, the survivors I had known began to disappear one-by-one, and I was being called to trials less and less. I did not think about the implications, and to be honest, I wasn't sure if I noticed much. Not until my trial with you."

"Really?"

Evan nods, locking eyes with Meg, "I had not paid attention to much, and after leaving that other survivor, I refused to think about who I was hurting. I tried not to think about the other side, the survivors, and all I thought about was my own torment. I began to see the survivors as people in my past. My father, his henchmen, even Herman, and it made the job…easier," Evan pauses, leaning in close to Meg, suffocating her thoughts as she stares at him, gently rubbing circles along his cheek. "But when I saw you, I began to notice everything had changed so drastically. There were new survivors, new realms the trials took place in. I tried everything I could not to pay attention, but I always noticed you."

She doesn't know what to say, doesn't know how to even react to his story. The unimaginable horror that girl must have gone through, and the mystery at where she ended up is something she doesn't even want to think about. As soon as her mind begins to wander, she wonders how the survivor disappeared from the realm.

Where else would she have gone?

The void?

But even then…

She always thought she was safe at the campfire, thinking it was her one reprieve from the killers, and now…

Now she knows she was in more danger than she ever thought possible.

It is almost a miracle no one was taken from her friends. Maybe after the other survivor, he gave up on his research.

She lets herself think that instead of thinking about the other very real possibility that he continued to experiment on her the whole time. What if she's still there?

Unable to handle where her mind suddenly takes her, Meg shuts off her thoughts, snapping them shut like a book as she swallows and looks at Evan, who looks at her with an odd expression on his face.

"A week ago, when you disappeared that night, I had thought the worst. I wasn't sure what I would walk into at that shack, especially after hearing your scream, I…" Evan stops, his voice clips as she notices tears begin to brim his eyes.

"Evan," she whispers, gently running her thumb under his eye. "I'm safe. I know it was scary, it was, but I'm okay."

"But the possibility of me walking in and finding you…" he clears his throat and takes in a deep breath, composing himself before resuming. "Sometimes I still wake up from nightmares where I don't find you in time. I don't see the woman survivor strapped to the cold metal table, I see you."

Meg swallows, knowing full well that it could have been a possibility if Evan hadn't shown up in time. The only reason why Herman stopped his torture was because Evan showed up, after all.

Who knows what else he could have done?

At that time, Meg thought there couldn't possibly be anything more they could do to her, but she was wrong.

So wrong.

Lifting her other hand, she grabs Evan's face in between her palms while gently massaging his temples.

"But you did show up, and I'm okay. I am safe, and we will figure it all out," she says quietly kissing his cheek as a tear falls from the corner of his eye. "You and me, together, we will make it right, okay? This, today, is the first step. We will make them pay, Herman and Jed. For everything."

She continues to plant small, gentle kisses all over his face, over his scars, on his lips, as she whispers softly in between each kiss.

"I know you're not ready," a kiss to his temple "but I will remind you every day" another kiss to his lips "that you did all you could in the realm and before" a kiss to his scar above his eye "you are not a bad person" a kiss on his cheek "no one should have to handle what you saw" and on his other cheek "We will move forward" a kiss along his jaw "together." Finally, she plants another kiss on his lips that lingers a little longer this time until she feels something wet on her cheek, and as she pulls away she realizes it's tears. Not from her, but from Evan as he stares at Meg, his eyes watering like he's seeing her for the first time.

Truly seeing her as his eyes roam her face slowly.

So slow.

As though memorizing every freckle on her face, every pore on her skin, committing her to memory as he stares with a look of disbelief on his face.

Almost as though he expected her to say anything other than the support she offered.

He should know better.

Just as he has been there for her, Meg's safe space, her protector, she isn't going to let Evan think she would ever change her mind about him.

Nothing he could say or do could change anything now.

They're in too deep.

Lifting up her hands to his face, she uses her thumbs to wipe away his tears before resting her palms on his cheeks, rubbing his temples slowly like he's done to her so many times. It's something that always helps her, and she hopes deep down that it'll help him just the same.

They stay like this for a couple of minutes, breathing in sync as the wind blows around them, and the trees sway.

She will never get over the feeling of real wind; not after missing it for over a decade.

So they savor the moment together, slowly, like this is exactly where they needed to be in that moment.

Together.

"I love you," Meg speaks up quietly, drawing small circles on his face with her thumbs. Her eyes roam his features, taking everything in with a deep breath as he leans into her touch.

"Say it again," he whispers so quietly, Meg almost doesn't hear it, but with a smile she meets his gaze.

"I love you," she repeats with a smile, content to tell him whenever, always, until the end of time, "I love you so much."

Evan parts his lips slightly as though he were about to respond, but as tears form in his eyes, he closes his mouth and swallows.

"I love you," Meg smiles, wiping a tear that falls from the corner of his eye. "And I will never stop telling you how much you deserve to be loved, Evan MacMillan. Loved and forgiven."

Nothing prepares her for what happens next as Evan lets out a noise that sounds like something between a choke and a sob, and wraps his arms around Meg, pulling her roughly against his chest. She feels his breath on her hair and hears how fast his heart beats in his chest as she embraces the warmth he provides. He rubs gentle circles where his hands land on her arms, holding her to him, and she swears that he's shaking.

"I truly do not know how I ever navigated life before you, Meg Thomas," he says quietly, his voice muffled by her hair.

Something grips within Meg's chest causing her to let out a sigh as her mouth tugs into a smile. She pulls away, and she feels his resistance but after a moment, he loosens his grip on her as she looks up at him.

"You did what you had to. We all did. But what matters is that we are here," she says as she grabs his hands, holding them in between their chests, right over their hearts. "We made it. After everything, we freaking made it, Evan."

She feels the deep chuckle resound in his chest before she hears it, and as though feeling it for the first time, it hits Meg as much as it hits Evan.

They're out.

They made it.

Yes, it has been a struggle, even before the Entity's realm for both of them.

And yes things have been terrifying, but everything has changed.

Like the world opened up before them, it all feels so different than it ever has before.

Slowly, his breathing deepens, mirroring Meg's deep breaths as she realizes she had been slowly leaning forward until her chest is now mere inches away from his. As though the proximity finally brings Evan back to reality, he slowly lets go of her hands and wraps his arms around her waist, bringing her closer before kissing her.

It's a soft kiss, his lips barely grazing hers as he slowly draws circles on her lower back with his thumb.

It's soft and it's safe, and so unlike any of their other kisses before. Their first kiss had been filled with fire, with need, with hunger, and their kisses since have been filled with happiness and attachment.

But this, this whispers of safety, sunshine, warmth, and Meg can't control herself as a tear slips through the corner of her eye as she kisses him, soft, gently, pouring protection out of herself as to tell him she will keep him safe.

Just as much as he breathes against her lips, she knows he is thinking the same, giving everything he is in order to protect her.

The two stay like this for a minute more, letting them silently vow through their love, their touch, that they will get through this together, and protect each other in ways they have never known.

Meg is the one to break the kiss, as she pulls away slightly, her cheeks rosy and feeling slightly out of breath, not from the kissing, but from all of the emotions that well in her chest, her head, her heart.

The spell is slightly broken when she hears the gentle rumbling of a car getting closer, and as she turns to look, it begins to slow down where they are seated.

Assuming, and hoping, it's the car that'll take them to Index, Meg steals one last look at Evan before sadly climbing from his lap and getting up. Immediately, she misses his warmth and wants to be as close as she can as she inwardly curses the car for not giving them just a couple more minutes alone together.

As soon as they are standing, Meg has to lean against Evan to keep her legs from shaking slightly, both from the long walk and from the kiss that just happened, as her head swims with thoughts of Evan, his taste, his scent, his very being.

And she wonders why she has waited to be with him, but she takes a deep breath, knowing now is not the time to think about it as she watches a small yellow car up, slowing down as the brakes screech echoing in the distance.

A small, balding man greets them in the front seat who appears to be in his mid forties, with lines surrounding his eyes and forehead that make him look older than he probably is. The first thought that comes to mind is that he simply looks tired.

Meg knows the feeling well, and she sighs, judging that he is no threat as she grips Evan's hand tighter.

"This feels…weird, doesn't it?" She asks as she stares at the yellow door in front of her.

"I suppose," Evan responds, unmoving. "But why do you say that now? If I recall, I'm not the one who fought everyone to come here," he finishes as his mouth tugs into a sly smirk.

"Oh shush," Meg laughs quietly, giving him a smack on his arm. "I just guess…" Her words disappear from her as she takes a step towards the car and she sees her reflection in the dark glass.

The once deep dark purple, yellow, and red bruises that decorated the edges of her cuts now appear more light purple and yellow, which still don't look great, but she sighs, telling herself that it looked a lot worse before and that she's healing.

She is healing.

Earlier that day, she decided to take her bandages off since most of her cuts are now scabbed over and don't look as gruesome.

But as she stares at herself, her injuries still look so fresh, especially the one decorating her eye. Every time she blinks, her eyelid feels tight as the scab shifts slightly, and she almost wishes she kept the bandages on, not thinking about what other people might think or say if they saw her.

But as her gaze looks away from her and instead over at the Uber driver, she notices that he stares straight forward.

Even as she opens the door, his eyes flicker up to look at Meg and Evan, but there is no hesitation, no question as his eyes shift to his phone sitting on the dashboard.

It helps, she thinks, that he didn't stare for long. She didn't think about what people outside of their friends would say, or if she really looks as bad as she feels, and god forbid they ask her what happened…

But as the driver talks, she knows that this is just another fare, another job.

They are just two normal people needing a ride.

"Where're we going?" The driver asks in a bored voice as he punches a few things into his phone.

Neither of them respond right away as Evan stands slightly behind Meg, waiting for her to get in so he can close her door.

"Are you ready? We don't have to go, we can figure out something else," he says quietly, resting his other hand on Meg's shoulder, rubbing softly. Leaning her head to rest on his hand, Meg takes in a deep breath before taking a step forward, bending down to get into the car.

"No, no. I still want to go," she says, taking a deep breath. "I'm ready as I'll ever be."

---

The car ride is slow, whether it was from the driver purposely taking long detours to ride up the fee, or if it was really that far away, Meg can't say, but all she knows is that she feels like she had been in the car for ages.

Not that it matters much to her in that moment, since she has Evan squeezed in the middle seat so he could be close to her, even as he has to straddle the awkward hump in the middle seat floor, and his seatbelt doesn't quite fit over his chest, but he ignores the driver's warning to put his seatbelt on properly as he drives, after muttering "I don't get paid enough for this."

Normally, Meg would feel suffocated between the car door and Evan sitting beside her since has barely enough room to even sit straight, but instead her and Evan mold together as he lifts his arm up, letting her sit against his torso.

She can hear his heartbeat as they drive, and she almost wants to smile at the fact that she can hear his heart rate pick up once they get onto a major highway, paired with the fact that he begins to squeeze Meg's hand so tight, his knuckles turn white.

Cars will take time, and she doesn't think Evan will be able to get used to them any time soon, but she would be lying if she said it didn't give her a slight giggle every time she's been in a car with him.

But she doesn't say anything as she runs her free hand along his thigh while looking out the windshield as they drive.

He never lets go of her hand the whole way, not even as the sky turns from a bright blue, to an overcast gray, back to a darker blue all in the span of about an hour and a half, and soon the buildings around them disappear and occur less frequently.

Her friends told her the town they were going to was small, but she didn't quite realize what they meant until she saw it with her own eyes. They must have passed five different signs that have welcomed them to different towns, and yet, they still haven't reached Index.

"How much further is it?" Meg speaks up when she notices that the speed limit increases and she notices a 'national park' sign passing them a few miles back. Is Index really this far away? She thought Issaquah was tucked away, and yet this…

Does this town even exist?

"Not much further," the driver grumbles as he stares straight ahead, not bothering to look in the backseat at his passengers.

As the trees get thicker and more dense around them, Meg's phone buzzes in her bag, and with a small sigh of relief, Meg assumes it's Nea telling them they finally got the trail. It helps knowing that their car ride was just as long, and that their driver wasn't taking them on some wild detour. Fishing her phone from her bag, Meg quickly scans the text and nods to herself.

'Just got to the trail. Lots of cars in the parking lot, so we're good. See you soon.'

"They're at the trail," Meg mutters to Evan, and as she looks around, she wonders just how long they'll have to wait for the two of them to finally get to Index.

Just a couple of minutes pass and the driver slows down, taking a turn from the main road, and Meg catches a green sign pointing forward.

Index 4 miles

"I know this place," Evan mumbles as they suddenly take a left onto another road and a narrow bridge appears in front of them. "That bridge coming up, we helped supply materials for it" he whispers quietly to Meg as he stares straight ahead at a small, two lane-bridge made of metal and wood that crosses over a small river. From where she sits, it looks as though the car won't even fit in one of the lanes with the bridge being so narrow, but thankfully, there were no other cars coming the other way.

"So you've been here but didn't remember the name?" Meg asks, wondering why he would bring them all the way out here if he knew the place itself.

"I don't believe it had been incorporated into a town yet, plus it has been awhile."

"Oh, yeah. I guess it's been a year or two," she retorts with a small smile.

Evan glances at her throat the corner of his eye, a smirk appearing on his face, "Maybe three or four. Basically a life-time."

The driver glances at the two of them through his rear-view mirror, seemingly interested in their conversation now that they're talking, but as Meg notices she gives Evan a soft nudge.

Evan's eyes break away from her, meeting the driver's in the mirror, just before his gaze shifts back to the road. Meg wants to say more, wants to ask Evan about the town, but with the prying eyes and ears of the driver actively listening, she decides to wait, and sits back as she looks at the mountains.

Her friends weren't kidding, that this is a small town in the middle of nowhere. She doesn't even remember how far back a town was, twenty-five minutes ago? Forty? It feels like they eventually ran out of buildings and now they are in the middle of the mountains and woods with the only clue to civilization being the paved road before them. But even that becomes a bit more scarce as the driver pulls to the left once more, the road growing bumpier with each passing second as though the pavement hasn't been worked on in decades.

Not quite gravel, not quite road.

And that's when Meg sees the sign.

Welcome to Index. Pop. 172

The car turns down a small road, passing what looks like a white house with the words "Index General Store" painted in white across the front, with two cars parked out front, one with a man getting into his truck and the other unoccupied, presumably in the store.

Meg half expected an abandoned town, like the barn houses at Chimacum, but this…she doesn't know how to feel now that there are people around, in broad daylight.

Taking another slight left, the car begins to slow down, the tires rumbling on loose gravel as they approach 135 Skyco Lane, and Meg is just as confused as ever.

"I thought we were meeting at the trail," Evan whispers from beside her, eyeing the houses that begin to come into view.

"I…I put in the address instead. I just wanted to check it out."

"Meg," Evan growls quietly.

"I know I know," she hisses back, trying to duck her head under his to see the numbers of the houses. "We don't have to go in, or even get out of the car, I just wanted to see it for a moment."

The street was short, lined on the left side with about half a dozen houses, all facing towards an impressive cliff lined with trees a few roads down. Surrounded by woods, it is obvious it is a small town, but, cars were in every driveway, and they even passed an elderly couple taking a small walk.

This was no abandoned town, and soon the car reaches a halt in front of a small yellow house with a red door, and one silver car in the driveway.

Big black numbers line the side of the door, so big Meg can see them from where she sits in the car before paying the poor man they dragged out here.

135.

This is it.

It seems harmless, she thinks, with the small yellow house with a dark red door. There is a small porch with a white porch swing sitting near the door, overlooking blooming pink and purple flowers that line the front of the house.

Someone lives here, and has lived here, for quite some time, in order to take care of the garden and the green lawn.

This…this place is full of life, and Meg doesn't know if that helps or makes this whole situation that much worse.

"We can turn back around," Evan says quietly, grabbing Meg's hand and giving it a tight squeeze before looking out the same window Meg can't peel her eyes from. Although Evan's comment warms her, she hears the driver scoff as he impatiently taps at the steering wheel, wanting to get onto his next fare.

"Imma 'bout to charge you both extra if ya sit here any longer," the small man says, flicking his beady eyes up at Meg through the rearview mirror. Evan stiffens beside her, and a smirk appears on her face when he takes in a deep breath and leans a bit forward in his seat before narrowing his eyes. He doesn't have to say anything, and as the driver's eyes look away from Meg and catches Evan's glare, he clears his throat and shrinks into his seat before wiping his mouth quickly on his sleeve. "No pressure though. Take your time."

Still smirking at Evan's defensive nature, it calms Meg down just enough to let out a small laugh.

"Well, what do you think? Think it's safe?" She talks quietly, trying to keep the conversation between her and Evan, even though she knows the driver is straining to listen to every word.

"I believe so. I don't think Jed-" he stops himself when the driver shifts in his seat so one of his ears is pointed to the backseat. The two look at each other and unconsciously, like always, seem to make the decision as they slowly unbuckle their seatbelts.

"Okay," Meg says, grabbing her bag that rests on the floor in between her legs, "Let's look then we can walk to the trail."

Before she can reach for the door handle, Evan grabs her hand once more, bringing it up to his lips and kissing it softly while looking at her eyes.

He breathes out slowly as he lowers her hand, but doesn't break eye contact, as to say 'I will keep you safe'.

She knows him enough by now, and she feels his protection, his care for her almost seeping from him, and she nods, wanting to show that she will be okay, too.

They'll both be okay, and no matter what, she'll do what she can to protect him just the same.

He lets go, dropping her hand to her side so she can get out, and quickly Meg pulls the bag up and opens the door.

Not bothering to thank the driver, she slams the door shut, and once Evan is out, he barely has enough time to close his door before the car peels away, the sound of screeching tires echoing along the trees in the tiny, quiet neighborhood.

Taking a moment to look around, Evan reaches out for Meg and pulls her close to him as they both scan their surroundings, his arm wrapping around her protectively.

Seconds pass quietly, the only sound surrounding them is the wind blowing through the trees and the sounds of their in sync breathing, and finally, Evan takes a step back to look down at Meg, his brows scrunched together.

"Are you two lost?"

A voice comes from beside them, making Meg jump and Evan stiffen, both of their heads shooting in the direction of an older lady, probably mid-sixties, as she walks out of the neighboring house.

"Saw you drive up. We don't get many visitors down this road unless they're looking for the Heybrook trail. Great place for hiking. That's gonna be about a mile down the road-"

"No," Meg speaks up, interrupting the woman who stops talking and raises her eyebrows at the interruption. She knows she should listen to the directions to the hike since her friends should be waiting there. Or…she can always text them to meet here. The house looks innocent enough. "We…we aren't here for the hike. We are here…" she trails off, not sure what to say, or to even trust this woman with the information that seems so crucial to her in that moment.

"To visit an old friend," Evan says, straightening his posture and yet somehow still pulling Meg closer and slightly behind him as the woman approaches. Once she notices Meg being partially shielded from view, she stops and squints her eyes, looking between Evan and Meg as her facial expression turns sour.

"I meant no harm," she snaps, crossing her arms across her chest, clinking old metallic necklaces against her arms as she does so. "Gabby doesn't get many visitors, and as her neighbor, I was surprised."

Gabby?

It couldn't be…

"I assure you, we mean no harm, as well," Evan responds just as seriously as though daring her to ask more questions, but when she simply lets out a snort and turns on her heels, he relaxes just a bit, but now more questions plague Meg's mind, her thoughts flying in every direction.

"We have to find out who is in that house. Now," she says, grabbing his hand and practically dragging him along behind her as she marches up the driveway.

"Meg, wait. We should wait for your friends before we rush in. You know they'll-"

"No," she cuts him off, her voice quiet but the word comes out like a bullet.

Strong.

Final.

"Does the name Gabby mean anything to you?" Evan asks, reaching her side as they walk on the porch. "Your whole demeanor changed once that woman said that name."

Meg doesn't answer, doesn't want to think as she quickly wipes growing tears away and shakes her body to get rid of sudden nervous shudders that take over for just a second. Knocking on the door, it sounds more like she is pounding on the gentle wooden frame, and it takes Evan grabbing her other hand to ground her back in reality, fist frozen in the air.

Taking in a deep breath, she lowers her hand and takes a step back, waiting for whoever this house belongs to to answer.

Just answer.

Every second feels like an eternity as they both stand there, Meg frantically breathing, and Evan rubbing gentle circles along her upper back as he looks around, still scanning the area.

Not wanting to be caught off guard, it almost feels too late for Meg, the name sending her into a full-blown spiral of every emotion she could imagine.

Meg lifts up her clenched fist, ready to bang on the door once more but before she can make contact, she hears small hurried footsteps approaching from the other side, turning her blood cold.

Taking in a shaky breath, she lowers her hand to her side rapidly and straightens her back, standing guard, not sure who she will see on the other side.

After a few seconds, there is a small metallic click of the lock becoming unlocked, and the door opens slowly.

That moment lasts an eternity, and Meg is not quite sure what she hopes to see in that moment.

There's no way her mom could be standing on the other side of that door, no way. When she…disappeared, her mom just found out her cancer had come back. They talked about it the day before Meg went for that run.

She remembers how the time before that, the doctor wasn't too sure if she could survive another round of chemo, radiation, the medication, cancer…

It was a miracle that she survived the time before that, and the time before that, and the time before that.

But by the time Meg disappeared, her mother was gaunt, frail. She carried herself with confidence, the confidence Meg strived to have her whole life, but physically it was hard to look past the gray skin and sunken eyes.

Her hair reached to her jawline by then and just began to thicken, and suddenly news that it might be shaved off once again was enough for both Meg's and her mom's hearts to sink.

The conversation, the last conversation she had with her mom that she tried to push down deep inside herself recently came to light. She remembers her dreams like they cut deeper within herself than Jed's knife that sliced her skin a week ago.

After the diagnosis, her mom suggested she move out, go to college, pursue what she wanted…

If only she wasn't so brash, so quick to jump to conclusions…

Maybe her mom knew what was coming and wanted to see Meg thrive outside of being her caregiver.

Meg blinks hard, clearing her mind before it makes a dangerous conclusion, and as the door finally swings open fully, she isn't sure how to feel.

Her mother doesn't stand on the other side, and, in fact, it is someone she is sure she has never seen in her life.

A short, portly woman with brown curly hair and tired eyes stands in front of her, but instead of her looking just as confused as Meg feels, her whole demeanor switches quickly as she takes a step back before speaking.

"Meg? Meg Thomas?"

---

Author's note!

Yay! After a year and a half, I'm back! I still can't believe the update is finally here and I'm the one who wrote it? Insanity. ANYWAYS I want to apologize for the delay in getting this chapter out. A lot of things in my personal life kept me from updating and writing, and without going into a lot of detail, 2022 was probably one of the hardest years of my life. I lost a lot of myself, including writing, and it took awhile to find my way back to feeling normal again.

That being said, I'm so excited, and so overjoyed to finally get back into writing, especially continuing this story. Not a day went by this last year and a half where I didn't think about this story and the love and support it has received over the years, and I want to give a huge huge HUGE shout out to everyone that has stood by me and this story along the way!

Also I, uh...want to apologize to all Herman lovers everywhere..um...he's not a good guy in this story.
If we didn't know that by now.
lol.

Anyways, I hope you enjoyed, I hope everyone is staying safe and healthy and happy and I'm super excited to see y'all in the next one!