"Do you think it's him?"
The question hangs in the air like a noose, swinging back and forth, an inevitable omen for not only Meg, but the way Evan freezes as he turns away from the bar and marches away, she can only assume it isn't good news for him either.
Despite Meg wanting to hear more of the news story, she quickly decides that keeping up with Evan is the safest thing to do right now, so she jogs to his side once more, questions about the clown tingling at the tip of her tongue.
She doesn't want to ask them right away, not after how she saw his whole demeanor change, so she physically bites down on her tongue to try and keep quiet.
She has pushed her luck far too long, she doesn't want him to get mad at her before they even make it to the house. So she thinks as they walk in silence, making their way to the, unfortunately, very familiar woods now.
Thinking back to the broadcast, her mind bounces between the killings, the places…where are they?…and the guest interviewer they had…
What was his name?
Jed Olsen, Meg thinks.
She rolls the name on her tongue, it sounding all too familiar though she can't quite place from where…
Maybe a past life, or a name that sounds similar to someone else she once knew…
The more they walk, the more she tries to forget the name, brush it off as nothing more than paranoia after hearing something about a killer clown, but each time she tries to think of something else, the name Jed Olsen comes back even stronger.
So instead of asking Evan about the Clown, she needs to ask this.
"Evan?" She speaks up, her voice still sounding far away.
He lets out a sound, more resembling a grunt, as a way of continuing.
"Do you know a Jed Olsen? Does that name sound familiar to you?"
Evan walks beside her, nothing changing in his stride or posture, but he doesn't say anything for a moment, as though really thinking about it himself.
"No, I don't believe so," he finally responds, breaking the silence between them.
Meg frowns beside him, not sure what answer she wanted to hear, convinced that nothing would have made her happy in that moment.
If he heard of a Jed Olsen, it would mean potentially another killer, and if he didn't…well that just means Meg is back to square one, trying to figure out why that name sounds so damn familiar by herself.
She does have her friends that she can ask, but that is only when she can talk to them again, and who knows when that would be? Nea's words echo in her mind warning her that she needs to get a way to be in touch with them, but she still has no idea how to do that.
With her friends beside her and the fuel of going back to the Estate igniting her thoughts, she didn't even stop to think how she would get a phone, or anything to keep in touch…
The farther she gets from the bar and where she met her friends, the bigger the pit in her stomach grows, unsure that she made the right choice.
And although she doesn't want to upset Evan even more, she thinks she recognizes this part of the woods, and she thinks it is close to the Estate, so she tempts her luck.
"I want to talk about the Clown," she blurts out, less subtle than she meant it to be. Evan tenses to her side so badly, she can almost feel his annoyance radiate from him, but she continues as they walk, "I can see the way you're reacting. Really, do you think it's him? The Clown from the trials?"
"I…" Evan hesitates, for one of the first times Meg has ever seen him hesitate. Sure, she has seen him pause, even stumble on a word, but never be at such a loss like he is now, "Do you want the honest truth?"
At that, Meg's stomach drops, all of her fears of all the killers working together coming at her full speed as she nods her head, "Yes."
Evan looks at her and slows down a little bit, not completely, but enough to make a difference as he looks down at her.
"I think it's him. I…killers were never close, but it seems all too convenient." He pauses for a moment before shaking his head slightly and resuming his walking, "Nevertheless, we are here, and we are safe."
"We are safe?" Meg repeats, disbelief clear in her voice, "And how can you guarantee that?"
"No one will come here."
"Well, I did, and you did, so what makes you think that this is some impervious fortress?" Meg asks, her voice picking up now.
She tries to control the volume and tone of how she asks, but she can hardly believe what she's hearing. She wants to think she's safe, and as much as he hates to admit it, being with Evan is probably the safest she is from other people; how safe she is from him though is a different story.
But…how can he be so confident in such a blatant lie?
"He is dangerous, clearly, he has gone back to his old ways, and if it's on the news here, the towns must be close," Meg says, looking at the ground, trying to concentrate her eyes on looking at the rocks rather than looking up at Evan. She doesn't want to get mad, she doesn't…but she's scared that if she looks at his nonchalant attitude, her anger will bubble up to more than she can handle, so she stares at the ground.
"He has no means of getting here, we are safe, I told you," Evan repeats, sounding more robotic than comforting.
Meg says nothing in response, not wanting to go ahead and push this for now, as she tucks away her thoughts for a time when they both aren't so exhausted. She hasn't been up for long, but her eyes can barely stay open the more she walks, and she can only imagine how Evan must be feeling, since he admitted to not even sleeping more than a few hours for the number of days they've been out.
So she stops, and maybe however she can get to her friends, they can come up with something. She knows they'll have her back, hopefully, even after she chose to go with Evan instead of them. Her only hope is that they haven't abandoned her just yet, even though deep in her chest it feels like she abandoned them.
It's for a greater cause, she tells herself.
But it doesn't work, not for long…until she looks at Evan, and somehow, it seems okay again, just a little bit. Him being beside her must mean something, anything, in the grand scheme of the Entity.
It made killers and survivors, but out here, it can't control them, she hopes.
As long as they are out of its claws, they should be safe.
So she walks, thinking of points to talk over with her friends once she finds out a way to get in touch with them.
For the rest of the walk since the Clown talk, she thinks about ways that she can get in contact with her friends, all options sounding more and more ridiculous as she pushes them from her mind. Instead, she thinks about how the last few hours have been enough to almost tip her over the edge between Evan kicking her out, terrifying her to her very core, running into her friends she was convinced she'd never see again, and then convinced to leave said friends to return to the man who kicked her out to begin with.
This would be enough to make anyone want a break, a pause on life, on drama, on thinking…
But Meg has been through worse.
Has always been through worse.
She can hardly believe what she has experienced the last few days since coming out of the nightmare she was stuck in, yet here she is, ready and eager to learn exactly what the hell brought her there to begin with.
So she walks, wanting food to stimulate her mind until she can start looking into other mysteries that, hopefully, Evan will allow her to look at. Her stomach growls, both from nerves and hunger, and soon all she can think about as her and Evan make their way back home, home? - to the Estate, is trying to get food.
Although she doesn't mention this to him as they walk, with each step, her eyes grow heavier and her mind becomes less and less focused on what she needs to do. Instead, she listens to their footsteps, hers light, and his heavy, crunching the dirt.
When they reach the estate, her mind wanders to food, but her head pounds and she can barely keep her eyes open.
A nap, she thinks, would be the best way to start this. Take a nap, then figure out things afterwards.
Without a word, she walks upstairs to the same room she was given, and without even taking off her shoes, she collapses on the bed.
Hours pass, how many for certain, Meg doesn't know, but when she wakes up, the moon is once again illuminating her room casting rays upon the dusty ground.
She rolls over without opening her eyes, ignoring her skin crawling from the mounds of dust she didn't get to clean off, as she lets out a small groan.
She's so comfortable…she could probably go back to sleep if she gave herself just a minute or two…
But then her stomach growls.
Remembering that she hasn't had anything to eat yet, she pushes herself up, rubbing her eyes to will them open.
She tries not to think about everything that happened yesterday as she walks out of her room, her feet padding softly across the hallway towards the stairs. She knows she is welcomed here, Evan wouldn't have invited her back, but she doesn't want to impose or make him mad again. They can talk more in the morning, she tells herself, and they can go from there.
Taking one step at a time, she makes her way down the staircase, and as she reaches the bottom, she almost expects to see Evan still awake and drinking like she caught him last night. There are some lanterns lit that gave off a soft warm glow around, and as she gets closer, she can hear the soft crackle of the fireplace in the room at the bottom of the stairs.
Peeking her head in, she sees Evan sat in the same chair he sat in yesterday, but his hand is empty. Squinting to see better in the dark, she realizes his eyes are closed, as his chest rises and falls so slowly.
He's asleep.
She's seeing Evan asleep.
She knows she should just leave him be, but she also knows this is a rare sight, like catching a glimpse of something you're not supposed to see.
So she watches him, just for a minute.
The fire casts an orange glow on the side of his face, creating shadows that make his scars look even deeper, but otherwise he looks peaceful.
She can hardly believe how relaxed he looks; she has never seen him like this before. She didn't even think he could be this relaxed.
But that relaxation starts to disappear as he twitches once, groaning, and his breathing starts to quicken.
She begins to think he's awake until he starts moving in his chair, mumbling words so quietly, Meg can't make any of them out.
Is he having a nightmare?
Meg never would have guessed that he could actually dream about anything, let alone have a nightmare, to have something scare him seems impossible.
You never think of the monster having nightmares, something to be scared of.
She looks back at him, thrashing around so slightly, it almost doesn't seem like much, that is until she notices how white his knuckles get as he grips the chair, and how tense his jaw locks as his frantic mumbling words spill from his mouth. She almost wants to wake him up, to make him stop, just for the fact that she's worried his teeth with shatter from the pure force of his jaw clenching and teeth rubbing together.
"Evan?" She calls out softly, almost too soft she doesn't hear it. Taking a deep breath and clearing her throat, she takes a step into the room, calling out his name once more, a bit louder this time, "Evan?"
He stirs a little bit at the sound of his name, so Meg takes it as a sign that she should call out again, taking another step forward though not too close. Never too close.
"Evan?" she calls out. His eyes fly open and land on her immediately. His breathing is so fast, Meg thinks he'll pass out, but he doesn't, as he looks at her. His knuckles still grip the leather so tight, his fingers dig in and his knuckles turn white as paper as he doesn't blink, just stares and breathes.
"Evan…it's okay," Meg whispers, holding her hands out in front of her, not sure what else to do. Her own anxiety begins to bubble in her chest seeing him like this. This is the type of person she thought he would be, angry.
Uncontrollable.
She doesn't want to take a step forward, but everything in her feels like she can't take a step back either.
"Evan, I'm here…you're safe."
He sits, his eyes fixed on her, his blinking coming back to normal so slowly, she can count the seconds in between his blinks becoming double digits, until he slowly starts to blink faster, breaking eye contact, as he looks away from her.
His breathing, once rapid and fast, begins to slow down as he takes in longer breathes.
"Are you okay?" Meg asks once his breathing has returned to normal and his eyes aren't so wide and panicked. His fingers gradually relax and stop trying to rip through the leather in his armchair.
Her question is met with silence as she stares at him, hoping for some sign of…well, anything.
"Evan?" She repeats, sounding like a broken record.
He pushes himself up so quickly, it takes Meg by surprise, causing her to take a step back.
The two of them stare at each other for a minute, two, three, before he finally starts walking, walking right past her and to the stairs.
He goes up and to the left, to a door right beside her room, before he shuts himself in completely.
She can almost hear the stark lock on his door, but she doesn't dare to try and see if he really locked himself in.
So she goes into the kitchen, waiting.
There is a plate filled with a hunk of meat, cuts of carrots, and leaves, which she assumes is salad, in front of her in the kitchen. A fork, knife, and spoon are set out perfectly and a cloth napkin sits in front of the plate, as though he made it just for her to enjoy.
Despite what just went on in the next room, she could almost cry at the generosity of it all, as she looks upon the meal laid out before her.
She clears her throat again, not knowing if it's it make her presence known, or if she's just that hungry, but she steps up, takes the fork, and digs into the delicious meal that awaits her.
As she finishes her meal, she thinks of taking her own personal tour around, but as she pushes herself back in her chair, the temptation of looking around the Estate is sorely ripped from her when she remembers everything that happened the day before. Instead, she looks around and decides to go sit outside and wait for Evan to wake up.
Not wanting to go where she doesn't belong for now, she carefully walks into the foyer and opens the door, a loud creak echoing through the house as she does so. Cringing, she squeezes through the crack and accidentally closes it a little too hard once she's outside.
She bites at her lip as her eyes scan the trees around her. The sky begins to turn a light blue as Meg takes a seat on the front porch step, resting her arms on her legs as she looks around.
In the distance she hears a few birds start chirping their morning song, and it's music to Meg's ears, each note soothing her nerves as she looks at the sky.
Each morning since being out, she has been awake to see the sun rise, but hasn't truly been able to just sit, watch, and listen to the world waking up around her. Although the feeling that this has to be some trick is still there deep in her bones, trying to claw its way to the surface, she does her best to ignore it so she can just sit and enjoy this time that she can have to herself.
She lets her mind wander from one thing to another, never thinking too much about one specific thing before her thoughts drift to something else, but then somehow, her mind goes to Evan, briefly thinking about what happened that morning. She almost wants to go back inside and check on him, see if he's okay, see if he's sleeping.
Quickly deciding against it, she leans back on her hands and goes back to looking at the distant tree-line. There is no way that she could justify herself if she were to go into his room just to see if he's okay.
Of course he's okay.
It shouldn't matter to Meg even if he wasn't.
So instead, she takes this time to just relax, listen to nature, and enjoy the feeling of the warm breeze on her face.
She remains like this for awhile until she hears the door behind her open and before she can turn around, Evan is standing beside her, two cups of coffee in his hands.
"Figured I'd find you out here. Here, made some coffee," he mumbles, his voice deep with exhaustion. He bends down and sets a mug next to Meg, who eagerly picks it up and holds it close to her chest, warming her up.
"Thank you," Meg responds, taking a sip. It's bitter and scalding hot, but Meg swallows it full of appreciation anyway. "How'd you know I'd like this?"
"I remember how you looked when you smelled it outside when we first met. Assumed from then on that you liked it," Evan says, taking a step down from the porch, but not quite sitting yet.
"Oh." Meg remembers them passing a coffee shop only vaguely; there were more important things in her mind at that time, but it doesn't make her shock that he would remember any less personal. "Where'd you get this from?"
"Found some in the cupboard."
Meg practically spits out the sip she just took, sputtering her words. "In the cupboard? So it's been sitting there for over a hundred years? Is this even safe…?" Meg rambles, holding out the mug in her hand as she inspects the dark liquid, as though it would tell her itself if it was safe or not.
"Dunno, guess we will just have to wait and see." Evan shrugs. "But then again, I didn't take you as one to be concerned of the health risks of drinking old coffee," Evan finishes, a slight smile making its way on his face that only makes Meg frown.
"Well, if I'm going to be killed by anything, I wouldn't want it to be at the hands my favorite drink."
Evan actually laughs at this, a deep chuckle resounding through his chest. "You're not going to die from old coffee. I think you'll be fine."
Unconsciously, Meg begins to smile at Evan's retort, but not wanting to give him the advantage, she deepens her frown to an almost cartoon-like level trying not to let him see her smiling. She takes this opportunity to bring up a plan that she had been thinking about earlier, in hopes to catch him in a good mood when she brings it up to him.
"Speaking of old coffee," Meg starts by saying as she looks up at him still standing beside her, "well you can sit down you know," she interrupts herself by patting the step.
He looks behind himself at the wood and then at Meg who feels like she's being looking down upon by him. Her stomach twists uncomfortably not knowing if its from nerves from telling him what to do, or if the coffee is really just that bad.
He doesn't say anything for a moment, and just before Meg was about to continue and ignore the fact that she asked him to sit, he sits down with a sigh. He still towers over her as they sit side-by-side, and suddenly Meg wishes he didn't sit down because now this feels too close. She can't look at him while she talks so she switches her gaze between the trees and her coffee.
"Anyways, I was going to say, maybe it's time we go and try to get food? Or real coffee?"
"With what money?" Evan responds, staring straight ahead. "If you have some that you've been hiding, that would be a great thing to share."
"Well, okay, tell me if I'm overstepping-"
"Good way to begin to convince me of whatever you're going to say," he interrupts her, but Meg continues, ignoring his retort.
"In older times, sometimes people hid money or gold or valuables in houses, or in the woods around their homes. I used to hear stories of it all the time from people I would see on runs," Meg shifts uncomfortably, feeling like she is prying too much into what else he could be hiding. "I was thinking maybe your father might have hidden something? Or if you know where something could be? I don't know, we could trade it in. Once I have money, I'll pay you back for what I use!"
Evan sits there taking sips of coffee and swishing it around his mouth before swallowing. Every time he swallows, Meg expects an answer, that is until he takes another and repeats the process, mulling around the coffee in his mouth like the idea in his head.
"Look, I'm sorry if that's a crazy request, but we can't just keep living off of old coffee and meat. Plus getting a phone or something could be useful too," Meg throws in the last part, hoping to convince him that phones could be a good idea, and she could get one to her friends before they end up too freaked out to let her stay here.
"We have a telephone," Evan responds, his brows furrowed in confusion. "Though I doubt it would still work for you to try and call whoever you're wanting to."
"No," Meg holds back a small giggle at the way Evan looks at her, a look of confusion clear on his face, "Now we have phones that fit on our pockets. We can use them to call or send texts, like letters but the other person gets them instantly. I was thinking that it would be handy to have in any case of emergency."
"What sort of emergency do you think will happen?" Evan asks, the confusion slowly melting from his face and replaced by one of his eyebrows shooting up in curiosity.
"Well, that's the thing about emergencies, sometimes you don't know what can happen until it does," Meg says back, taking another sip of the bitter coffee as something for her hands to do. "And the Clown is still out there…"
Evan continues staring at Meg, who feels the heat of his stare despite not even looking at him.
"Out of anywhere, this is probably the safest place for you to be. No one will hurt you here," he says, the ghost of his words from yesterday hang in the air between them.
I won't hurt you.
Meg takes in a deep breath, her throat is dry despite her not feeling thirsty. The words come out strained but she pushes on anyway. "I know. It would just make me feel better knowing I can call my friends."
Evan finally peels his eyes from her as he scans the tree-line. "I suppose that's fair."
The two sit in silence, sipping the old coffee as they watch the sun change the sky from light blue, to pink and orange, to a hue of lavender before Evan speaks up again.
"My father always kept his valuables in his study," he says, glancing over at Meg. "If we were to find any hidden fortune that you're talking about, it would be there."
Meg nods along with what he's saying although flashes of the study and its contents flash in her mind like lightening, a warning sign to not go in there again.
"Will you kick me out again if I offer to help look in there?" Meg asks hesitantly.
Evan's mouth twitches up into a smile but disappears just as quickly.
"No," he begins, "but we can go in there together." A pause. "Just so I know you're not snooping where you don't belong."
"Oh so, I can just snoop to see if I can find money, got it," Meg teases back. Finding the perfect opportunity to tease him like he has been teasing her made her feel almost human, like she was back bantering with Nea and David, and just for a moment, she forgets who she was actually talking to.
Their conversation today has been laced with familiarity and a sort of calmness that Meg never would think she would get with Evan, but there she is, almost feeling comfortable sitting next to him now.
He looks at her, and quickly, so quickly Meg would have missed it if she blinked, his eyes flicker down to her lips, before they came back up and rest on her eyes, maintaining eye contact like always.
"I won't dignify that with a response," he ends up saying, holding his hand out and gesturing towards Meg's empty coffee mug. He takes it and stands up, his knees cracking as they stand. "Are you ready?"
"For what? Are we looking now?" Meg asks, pulling herself up using the handrail.
Evan nods and heads inside, not waiting for her to follow.
He makes a quick pit stop to drop their mugs in the kitchen as Meg waits outside of the study, not daring to go in without him. As much as she can hardly contain herself and how much she wants to go inside, she waits, bouncing on her heels.
Evan comes in behind her and says nothing as the two of them stare at the intricate dark wood doors. His breathing becomes audibly louder to the point that Meg can hear him take in the deepest of breaths behind her.
"I can go in first if you want," Meg offers, her voice quiet. She's not sure if that is what he is waiting for, but neither of them dare make the first move.
"Before yesterday, I never stepped foot in that room," Evan says, his voice barely above a whisper. "I never even knew what it looked like."
Meg's mouth forms a tiny o as she stares straight forward, no wanting to look at him. The way he is talking about the study makes it seem like it's none of her business, and maybe it's easier for them both if they don't look at each other while he talks.
"I'm really sorry I made you go in there," Meg apologizes, holding her hand out behind her, not sure what she's even trying to do. The guilt that plagued her by going in there to begin with multiplies the longer they stand there without going in. She keeps her hand behind her, and if Evan wants to grab it he can, but really it's her way of showing that she is sorry, a handshake to make things better, or even a little bit okay as far as she's concerned.
But then she realizes it could come off wrong, or like she's reaching out for him…
Is she though?
So she slowly brings her hand back, but she could have sworn she felt his fingers brush against hers before her hand returns to her side.
They stand there, another breath, not wanting to go into this one place both for very different reasons.
"Well, I suppose now is as good of a time as any," she says, finally turning and looking at him. He doesn't look down at her as he stares over the top of her head towards the study. He stands as still as a statue, the Trapper truly returning at this point.
"Do you want me to go in first?" Meg asks again, more power behind her voice. They need money, they need to go in there, and maybe Meg can try to look at the papers again…sneak a look or something to get a better idea.
They need to go in.
Evan shakes his head and pushes her to the side, not roughly, but not in a gentle manner either.
"I can do it," he says, his voice stern.
He pushes open the doors and goes inside, immediately scavenging a cabinet to their right. Taking that as a sign that she can go in, Meg takes a tentative step inside to gauge how Evan will react, and he doesn't. He is immersed in whatever is in that cabinet, so she walks over to the desk where all of the papers from before are still thrown haphazardly around, just as she left them. She glances at Evan to see what he's doing, and when it's clear that he isn't actually paying attention to what she's doing for once, she runs her fingers along the edge of the desk, pretending to look at the drawers, when she's really looking at the papers stacked on top.
There are more drawings, or what would look like scribbles to anyone else, of the deep recesses of one's mind.
There is a paper right in front of her that shows what looks like the hooks from the trials, but they are decorated with barbed wire, razors, and needles. She never saw those. There is fire raging on the ground, and not just in the barrels, but around the hooks, as a swirling Entity watches from above.
Meg's stomach drops, making her need to look away. To give herself a break, she pulls open the bottom right drawer in the big mahogany desk.
There are files and more papers stuffed in there, but unlike the papers on top of the desk, these hold no interest to Meg. They look like ledgers, bills, and accounts of some sort, that she pulls out just in case Evan can make some sense of them.
Perhaps he did trust the banks and put his money away…surely if that's the case, it must still be somewhere in the banking system, right?
Meg wasn't positive about what happens to old money, or money that came from banks a hundred years in the past, but any clue is good enough for her. Placing those on top of the desk, covering up some of the ramblings and pictures, she looks over at Evan who is now carefully studying a book he pulled from the bookcase near him. Although his eyes scan the pages, his face hardens and his eyes gloss over.
The front is red with gold letters that Meg can't make out from where she's standing.
"What did you find?" Meg asks, gesturing to the book Evan clasps tightly in his hand.
"My mother's diary."
"Oh, Evan…" Meg begins, standing up. She wants to say she's sorry, but nothing comes out after she utters his name.
His eyes pause, stop moving, frozen on something he must have just read. She takes a step forward and leans on the desk, waiting for him to say something.
Without a word, he slams the book shut and throws it on the bookshelf before marching out of the room. Meg scrambles to get back up and follow him, wondering where exactly he's trying to go. Her heart skips a beat thinking that he found something, but the way he stormed out, she has no idea if it's a good or bad thing.
Evan goes outside, marching towards the edge of the forest, his nostrils flare like a bull charging, with Meg trying to keep up behind him.
Should she really be following him? Where is he going?
Something in her tells her to turn around, but she ignores it, following him as they go. She trips a few times while trying to keep up, but she always gets her balance back, determined to see where Evan is going. He hasn't stopped her from following yet, which she takes as a good sign.
They get to the trees and Evan stops, looks around, and goes to the left a few paces before he falls to his knees, digging his bare hands into the earth like an animal digging for a bone. He frantically digs, picking up grass, roots, rocks, and dirt, throwing it all to the sides and spraying Meg with some as she catches up to him.
"Hey, what-"
"I could have gotten out…" he mutters, not to Meg, but to himself. "Could have been out, had a good life…"
"What're you talking about?" Meg asks. She raises a hand to put on his shoulder, try to get him out of whatever trance he's in, but she decides against it, not wanting his aggression to be redirected towards her. "Evan what's going on?"
He ignores her questions and continues mumbling to himself, making a pit form in Meg's throat as she stares at him, her brows knit tightly together.
She chews at her lip, watching him dig, his movements growing slower by the minute as the hole gets deeper.
"I can help-"
"No!" Evan shouts, startling Meg to her very core. She takes a step back and crosses her arms, letting him continue without another word. "No…I…" Evan stutters and then stops as his digging slows down to almost a stop. Every few seconds he reaches in the hole with bloody hands and grabs another handful of dirt, throwing it to the side. Dirt compacts under a few fingernails, while the rest are torn to shreds, bleeding, his blood falling and mixing in with the dirt like water.
Meg takes this chance to squat down and sit on her heels, bringing her knees close to her chest beside him. She doesn't reach out, but she hopes that maybe her presence can be of any help at all.
She doubts it, but there isn't anywhere else to go.
So she sits with Evan, staring at the now fairly deep hole in the ground. It impresses her how he was able to dig into solid earth with just his hands, and make a hole that goes up to his elbow when he reaches in fully. It also scares her.
She knows how strong he is, she has seen first hand, but it is clear that none of that strength has gone away in his time outside the Entity's realm.
Through deep breaths, Evan finally speaks, only a few words before having to pause, but the fact that he isn't acting like a wild animal calms Meg's nerves down just a bit.
"My mother…she hid money."
Another few digs in the hole.
"Wanted to get away. Wanted to take me away."
Another dig.
Then another.
Until his hand hits something with a hollow thud that was like electricity to both Evan and Meg, both of them perking up at what was buried there.
This seems to rejuvenate his energy, as he reaches in fully and after about a minute of working at the hole, he pulls out a plain small wooden box.
Evan wastes no time looking at it before he opens it up.
Gold coins and old looking bills are stuffed into the box, filling it up with money. Evan hovers his hand over the contents of the box unmoving. He doesn't look anywhere else but at the money, lost in a time of his own.
Meg doesn't want to interrupt, so she looks between the box and Evan, watching his reactions slowly change as he gets the courage to touch the money, knowing that it is real, it won't disappear.
He shuffles some bills around, feeling the paper beneath his fingers.
"This was supposed to be her ticket to freedom," he mutters, except this time, he looks at Meg acknowledging her beside him. "Will this be enough for now?"
Meg swallows all the questions she wants to blurt out.
Why was his mom hiding this? Was she going to take him somewhere? What happened to her?
But instead she takes the box from Evan's uncharacteristically shaky hands and looks inside. She has no idea how much old coins and money could be worth, but it's better than nothing, and at least they could get something out of this.
"I think so. Did you want to keep any of it?" Meg asks, handing the box back to him. Evan hesitates taking the box back, but when he does, he shuts it and closes his eyes.
"No. It would do me no good to have this around now. Not after what it was buried here for. May as well get rid of all of it."
Meg nods, and pushes herself up with her knees. "Alright then, that's settled. But look, Evan-"
"Don't," he says, the word coming from him like a bullet. A warning.
"You have been acting weird today, ever since this morning, is there anything you want to talk about? Especially after your…thing this morning and then now?" Meg pushes on, always ignoring warning signs.
Evan looks at her, his face oddly blank, as he blinks once, twice, then looks away, brushing dirt from his pants as he stands up. "I don't know what you're referring to."
"You can't be serious," Meg says, raising an eyebrow.
"Nothing happened this morning that needs to be discussed. This doesn't need to be discussed. I am fine."
"Oh, right. Well if this is how perfectly fine people act, then I guess I was wrong," Meg says, her voice dripping with sarcasm.
A muscle in Evan's cheek twitches before he responds. "I will repeat it again, I am fine."
Meg holds back a scoff, knowing this is not the time to get too testy with him. "I was going to say that I'm here in case you needed to talk to someone, even if you are fine. You don't have a lot of options of people around right now."
Evan lets out a quiet sigh, turning towards the trail that leads back to the house. He pauses after a few steps and nods his head towards the opposite direction of the Estate.
"Well, are you coming?"
Meg closes her eyes for a just a second, annoyed that her offer was met with a lack of enthusiasm. Not that she thought he would be willing to talk to her, but she would like to know something, anything, in response to what has happened today.
But then again, being in the dark has been her specialty for years now.
She follows him for a few minutes, walking through the woods until the trees get thinner and they get out into the street.
"I don't want to talk about it, but…thank you," Evan mutters finally, his voice low. Meg is taken aback at his sudden thanks but she also is a little bit warmed knowing that even though it took him the whole walk to town to get up the guts to thank her, he actually acknowledged her attempts at being nice.
They both are trying, she guesses. Trying to make a life that doesn't revolve around the trials. Trying to talk and not get mad at each other. Trying to move on. They are trying; Evan in his weird indirect way of helping, and Meg's confrontational way of trying to help.
It's something.
Anything is better than how they were yesterday, even if this does make her feel more awkward and exposed to him, something she never thought she'd ever feel around the Trapper.
But then again, she corrects herself, it's not the Trapper. This is Evan.
"Do you have any idea how to get money out of this?" Evan asks, holding the box close to his side.
"I dunno, a bank? Or we can see if there's a special store that buys this kind of stuff."
"I suppose it wouldn't hurt to start at the bank but…" Evan stops and clears his throat. "I'm not sure if I should be the one doing the talking."
"Evan MacMillan, are you asking for my help right now?" Meg teases, shooting him a cheesy grin, half in an attempt to lighten the mood, and half being serious. Who would have thought?
"Don't push it," he warns, but she can see a spark in his eyes as they wrinkle up with just a little bit out of humor.
"Fine, yes I'll do the talking, though I don't know if I'll be much better. I haven't been to a bank in over a decade."
"That's more recent than me," Evan responds.
They walk a little ways in silence until they reach downtown, both of them having the same idea to start looking for a bank there. By this time, the morning sun that had began to shine above them was quickly covered by dark rain clouds. There was a distant rumbling from thunder that shook her with excitement. Not that she wanted to be caught out in the rain, but she always loved thunderstorms ever since she was little.
The way the air smelled right before it started to rain, and the calmness of everything broken up by the thunder and lightening crashing around her was always her favorite.
She just hoped that they could get the money, food, and phones before it started to rain, but with the pace of the clouds overhead, she began to feel that they weren't going to make it home in time.
Towards the end of the street, they come across a small building that simply has the word 'Bank' in big letters above the door, and a neon sign that also says 'Gold Exchange' in the window.
Before going in, and interacting with what may as well be the first normal interaction for both of them in forever, they look at each other, almost as though they are silently encouraging each other to take the leap and go inside, the same feelings Meg felt earlier with the study bubbling up inside her.
"I'll ask one more time, you don't want any of this, right?" Meg clarifies. She would rather him get annoyed with her now, than be mad at himself or her later for letting go something of his from the past.
"I'm positive."
With that, Meg opens the small glass door that she's sure Evan has to duck under to get inside. A tiny bell announces their presence. A tired looking old woman sits behind glass, and as she hears the bell, she gives them a kind smile.
"Welcome in, how may I help you two?" Her eyes go from Meg to Evan with no visible changes in her attitude, and with that, Meg almost forgets how to speak.
"We have this," she says, holding out the box in front of her as she walks to the counter.
The woman, whose name Meg can now see on a name-tag is Evelyn, smiles at her.
"What's in the box, deary? We can't exchange boxes here if that is what you're asking."
Meg opens the box and shows her the contents inside. After a brief discussion on the era of the coins and bills, and their value, the two women discuss the value of it all.
Megs heart nearly stops when Evelyn gives her the total that she can trade-in their money for.
They'll be set for months, maybe even the next year if they budget their money right. Meg catches herself before she gets too excited. Meg hasn't even began to think about being there with Evan for months; she'll probably be gone long before then. So she looks up at Evan, giving him a small smile. He'll be set for awhile.
Evelyn begins punching in numbers into the computer and taking money out from below the counter.
"Well that was easy," Meg starts to say until she notices Evan's hesitation.
"Easy," he copies her words.
Silence follows them both as Meg can only imagine what Evan is going through…
The uncertain way his family's money, his own money, is being handled, the fact that it's now officially over a hundred years old, the fact that he clearly had a breakdown finding this, and everything else that must be going through his mind…
Meg decides not to test him as she lets him stand there, breathing slowly as Evelyn occasionally clicks one edge of the screen, types a few things on the keyboard, and clicks a few more places.
Evan follows Evelyn's movements like a cat with a laser pointer, his eyes constantly darting to where the cursor stops on the computer. Although it seems normal to Meg, she realizes that this is probably the first time Evan has seen a computer, or any kind of technology like this.
It must be killing him inside not asking what is happening, and most certainly not trusting the computer's calculations for how much his own money is worth.
After a few minutes, Evelyn excuses herself to get some of the larger bills from a different area of the bank.
Evan takes this opportunity to finally speak up.
"What is that?" Evan asks, gesturing to the computer monitor that sits facing away from him.
"It's a monitor. For a computer. It's like…" Meg flounders trying to come up with a simple way to explain computers to someone who doesn't even have modern electricity in their house. "The computer has everything you can imagine on it. All kinds of information, music, tv shows…"
"Tv shows?"
Meg sighs and looks up at Evan who stares down at her with a frown.
"We really need to get you caught up somehow."
The next few minutes waiting for Evelyn is spent with Meg trying to explain what she can about technology even though she doesn't know much about how it works. She just knew it did.
Evan nods along but his confused expression never changes, giving Meg the impression that he really isn't understanding at all, but she has to appreciate the fact that he's trying. She just gets to trying to explain Google when Evelyn shows back up, wads of money in each hand.
"Here we are," she says, plopping down in her chair and counting out the money for them to see. Evan's eyes remain transfixed on the new paper bills that she hands them beneath the small hole in the glass. Evan hesitates, not grabbing them right away, so Meg takes it upon herself to grab the cash and stuff in it the pockets she has in her hoodie and leggings.
A mental image of her looking absolutely ridiculous with bulging pockets, overflowing with money comes to mind, and for a second, she is nervous to be walking around with as much cash as they have, but then she looks at Evan and has to laugh at that thought.
He's right.
Nothing will happen while he's around, and anyone who tries to attack them will be in for a rude wake-up call.
"Thank you for your help," Meg says to Evelyn, turning around and walking out of the bank with Evan trailing at her heels.
"Now to find a grocery store," Meg mumbles, looking up and down the streets. They pick a direction to walk in, hoping to either stumble upon a small store, or run into someone who can tell them.
Normally, Meg would want to keep her distance, figure it out for herself like she always has, but right now, she can hardly wait to go. Her pockets are heavy for what feels like the first time in her life, and although she knows they can't go in a mass shopping spree, the fact that she can go and buy food for the first time in a decade in enough to make her feel like a kid on Christmas.
Her stomach has butterflies as she looks up at Evan, a huge smile on her face that definitely does not mirror his mood, and although she wants to be nice and try to think about how this is his money from a time that she can't even begin to imagine, she won't let him burst her bubble at this moment either.
Some might say it was selfish, unfeeling, cold, but she doesn't care. She is so grateful for the money, and she is even more grateful for the chance to be able to shop with it, even though she still knows she wants to pay him back someday, somehow.
Before they get too far, Meg gets the idea to run back to the bank and peek her head in, knowing Evelyn will be in the same spot they left her.
"Where is the nearest grocery store?"
Evelyn gives detailed directions to Meg. Although the store is only a couple streets away, Meg is happy she asked not knowing if they would be able to find it on their own. So they walk, Meg focusing on the street signs and muttering the directions to herself.
At one point she thinks she hears Evan chuckle beside her as she repeats the directions to herself, but she pays him no mind, determined to get there, the thoughts of all the possibilities of food flowing through her mind.
Eventually they turn a corner and are greeted by a generic looking grocery store that can almost make Meg cry.
She looks back at Evan with a smile as she can hardly contain it, and he looks down at her, his eyebrows raised with curiosity at her pure energy at getting there.
As they walk up the the doors, Meg grabs a big metal cart that Evan looks at with suspicion and curiosity, but Meg quickly walks along before he can stand there and study it much longer.
The doors slide open letting them inside with a soft ding and a rush of air that makes Evan flinch and look around, wondering where it came from. He looks around for the source of both the noise and the air for a moment before looking back at Meg and scowling as he walks forward to catch up to her.
He walks closer to her, she notices, when they enter places that he isn't familiar with, and although his expression hardens and his very presence becomes even more intimidating, not only to her but everyone around them, she can feel him shuffle just a little bit closer to her to the point of them almost touching.
"This must be just like the stores that were around before," Meg starts to say in an attempt to make him a bit more comfortable. "They're just bigger and have more things, but it's the same premise."
Evan doesn't respond, he just looks around, carefully eyeing the deli and bakery departments that are to their right.
"When we bought meat and bread, they were in different shops," he says, his voice low yet not confrontational.
"Well, everything is about convenience nowadays."
He grunts in agreement as his eyes scan around them so fast it would make Meg dizzy if she were to try to carefully inspect every single thing like he is doing.
"Well I guess we can go aisle by aisle, see what we need," Meg suggests, waiting just a moment to see his reaction.
"You're the expert."
Meg shoots him a small smile as she nods, not not appreciating the half compliment at her knowing something in this new world.
They begin to wander to their right through the bakery and deli, picking out essentials like bread, donuts for Meg, even though Evan says they don't need them, and some different cheeses. Evan goes for the more expensive kinds that make Meg want to laugh, like they could afford it. She almost smacks a particular brie out of his hand that costs twenty dollars, but when she informs him of just how expensive cheese like that is, Evan throws it down in disgust.
"That's how much I was paid for a month of work, how could they ask that of people? For cheese?" Evan asks, bending down and looking at more cheeses with more investment than Meg has ever seen him look at anything before.
"Well lots of things have changed…if you're mad about that, you won't want to look at the total when we are done," Meg says, tapping him lightly on the arm getting him to move on, even though as they walk she can still her him mumbling about cheese and the prices, saying how the world has gone insane.
She walks a little bit in front of him, a smile on her face that she doesn't try to hide anymore. He is being ridiculous, she thinks, but at the same time, this is the most human she's ever seen him…freaking out about the price of cheese.
She can hardly believe it.
So she says nothing and lets him simmer beside her.
While they walk through the aisles, every few minutes she has to remind Evan to keep up as he gets distracted by some colorful box decorated so neatly at whatever it is advertising. Once it was cereal, another time was granola bars, and once he wondered why there were teddy bears on huge packages of toilet paper.
"They're brands, and each brand has to have a certain appeal to it. There are a lot of choices now, and each brand has something that separates them from the rest," Meg tries to explain as Evan picks up applesauce with little dancing apples on it as he asks what the difference is between the other fifty applesauces around. He frowns looking at the apples with happy faces drawn on, clearly not quite understanding what makes this one so special to "have the apples themselves be so happy".
Meg stands at the end of one aisle, leaning on the basket as she watches Evan looking so intently at the applesauce, feeling something in her chest that she hasn't felt in a long time.
She doesn't even know the last time she felt it, looking at someone and being so entertained by something they are doing, and yet not wanting to stop them.
But then again, that's not true.
She was always entertained by David and Ace, Nea and Claudette, her friends were the most entertaining…
So what makes this any different?
She pushes any thoughts other than her friends from her mind as she picks out some essential condiments, Evan beside her. His arm occasionally brushes against her, not wanting to leave her side.
It feels like she is shopping with a toddler, always having to keep him on track and not get distracted by everything in every single aisle, but the more he tries to examine the foreign products, the less insistent she gets at moving along at a steady pace. She lets him look at Poptarts and Spongebob mac and cheese for as long as he wants. He stopped asking her questions a few aisles back, but she still hangs around in case he comes up with another. Occasionally she grabs something he was looking at for awhile and throws it in the cart without his knowledge, thinking that maybe she can introduce him to a couple of her favorite meals and foods at some point.
If they're going to be stuck together and have to make food together, it's the least she could do, she thinks. She is staying at his house and being supported by his money after all…
By the time they reach the other side of the store, she looks at the cart and realizes that most of the food in there was for him to try along with the things she missed the most. He stopped protesting her opinions after the cheese debacle earlier, so she was free to put together cheap meals she used to live off of, and snacks that she used to enjoy.
She also threw in some unhealthy options, figuring that Evan would have never been able to try anything like it, and it isn't like she is training for anything right now; she has time to let go and treat herself after what she has been through.
In the produce, Evan spots the fresh herbs in little planters that are snuggled between the flowers and the rest of the produce, and gravitates towards them.
She pushes her cart over and gives him a light tap on his arm.
"Interested in herbs, are we?" she says, eyeing the cilantro that she might pick up. Before she can choose the right one, Evan begins picking up all of the herbs and placing them on top of the cart.
Evan stands there and stares at the herbs for a moment before speaking, the excitement gone from his face.
"My mother had an herb garden, or rather a whole garden, but she taught me how to tend to the herbs. Never got the chance to learn about the rest before my father found out."
"Oh."
"Wasn't a man's job, he said, but…" Evan pauses and swallows loudly, "he's not here so…I'm going to try to remember how to grow some herbs."
"Well, I think that's a good idea," Meg replies, sending him a smile at all of the difference from the other night when he still thought dusting was a woman's job, and now, he's taking the initiative to do what he wants.
Meg is happy for him, weirdly happy for him.
She never thought she would ever be happy for him to do anything, but again, she thinks that this definitely isn't a situation she ever thought she'd be in, so she goes with it. The image of Evan bent over tending to small herbs in a garden comes to mind and she can say that is something she can't wait to see.
"You do?" Evan asks, an eyebrow quirked as he looks at her.
"Yeah, why wouldn't ? While I'm making you new age food, you may as well be harvesting some good herbs to go along with it," Meg replies.
Evan doesn't quite smile back, but his face relaxes and his eyes light up just a little as he looks at her. "I think I like that idea."
Silence passes between the two of them before Meg clears her throat and looks at their half-full cart.
"Well I guess now the last thing to do is see if they sell phones, and then we can go, unless there's something else you want to look at?"
Evan doesn't take his eyes off Meg when he responds, "No, I believe I got what I wanted."
Meg glances at him before she pushes the heavy cart away, not trying to think of the implications of his words. Her main goal in mind is to get the phones and get them to Nea.
She also slips a chocolate bar in for her friends that she swears to Evan over and over that she will repay him for. It seems weird to her, but for him to loan her food is one thing, to buy her friends food is something else entirely.
Meg takes the lead in putting all of their belongings on the conveyer belt as they stand in line, waiting for the people in front of them to buy their items, a total normal thing for Meg, but something so foreign to Evan.
They reach the cashier, a young high school boy, who scans their items with the attitude that he could be anywhere else but here, and Meg doesn't mind. She welcomes the lack of small talk as she looks at their total being rung up. Meanwhile, Evan looks around, eyeing various things suspiciously.
"Will you calm down?" Meg whispers to him, placing her hand on his forearm, a move that even shocks her that she would do, but she keeps it there in an attempt to get his attention.
Evan lets out a shaky breath and nods, keeping his eyes on Meg as though she is the one sure thing in his life right now.
She glances at him through the corner of her eye and goes back to counting the money they owe the cashier.
Evan huffs beside her but looks down, darting his eyes between Meg and the money, until Meg pays the man what they owe, and Evan's eyes fall on her once more.
"So," Meg starts, trying to break up the awkward tension that exudes from having Evan stand so close to her. "When are you going to start planting those herbs?"
"Soon," he replies vaguely, making Meg let out a quiet laugh at his herb garden secrecy.
The cashier hands Meg her change and nods towards the insane amount of bags they have. Meg grabs a couple, and Evan reaches for the rest with ease.
"Oh," Meg almost forgets to ask, "Do you have phones here?"
The cashier looks at her blankly and blinks a few times before answering, "Should be at the end of aisle 7."
"Okay perfect, thank you," Meg responds, shuffling the bags in her grip before walking back to where the phones are.
There are a few options, a couple flip phones and some more modern looking ones. All have the basics, texting, calling, and even a GPS, which Meg thinks could be useful since they have no idea where anything is now. She picks out a couple of the knock-off looking iPhones for her and her friends, and a flip phone for Evan, even though he protests the whole time they wait in line again.
"I don't need one." "I'll be fine." "Don't waste money." Are all phrases she hears until she tunes them out as she pays for a prepaid plan for all of them, and shoves them into their bags.
"You don't know if you'll need one. I got you a simple one I think even you can figure out," Meg says as they walk out. Even ignores the slight jab, a scowl almost permanently on his face by now.
The gust of air that greeted them on the way in blows in their faces as they walk out, which causes Evan to jump and look around again, seeing nothing, before he mumbles and looks away, following Meg. They walk out into the street and without another word, walk towards the direction of the Estate.
It isn't raining yet, but the sky has darkened significantly with more angry grey storm clouds. The wind picked up too while they were in the store, blowing Meg's braids around. With a particularly strong gust, her braids come and smack her in the face which she brushes off and just wants to get home before the rain starts. The distant rumbling of thunder grows so loud, Meg can almost feel it deep in her bones.
She glances up at Evan, a silent thank you at the tip of her tongue. It's weird, she thinks, wanting to thank him out of all people, after everything. But as they walk back to the Estate, she feels more connected to him than she ever thought possible.
Meg isn't sure when she started to look at her and Evan against the world, or if she would even feel that when they got back, but being out today sure made her feel that way. Although Meg had more experience with technology and modern life, she still couldn't help the way her skin crawled as she walked around, feeling like an imposter, like she didn't belong there.
She can only imagine how Evan felt.
So while they were shopping, she began to watch him, keep track of him, and she thought that maybe she was staying as close to him as he was to her.
The idea of relying on him was still one she wasn't thrilled for, but she will do what she has to now, and with getting to know Evan just a little bit more, it didn't seem so hard to work with him.
He was still stubborn, and mysterious, and unpredictable, but something changed with that shopping today that she can't even describe.
And she's okay with that.
So they walk, her carrying a couple bags of groceries as he carries about five in each hand with ease, making a quick pit stop at the Estate before Meg tries to go drop off the phone to her friends.
She bubbles with excitement at seeing her friends again on a, hopefully, better basis.
She also wants to talk to them about the Clown, see what they know, if anything, and where to go from there. Evan didn't seem too concerned, but within the few days she has spent with Evan, it is clear that him and the Clown are two different entities altogether.
Evan has spent his time trying to gain her trust, in a very weird roundabout way, and she hasn't made it any easier, but he has said multiple times that he doesn't want to hurt anyone, and that means the world to Meg.
The Clown on the other hand, if this is really who they think it is, he has wasted no time breaking into old habits, and who knows what he is capable of now.
Meg shivers, not wanting to think of the possibility to die by his hand out here in the real world.
But there is one question that plagues her mind as she walks…
What if he finds out that they're here? Every rational part of her thinks that there is no way he could ever find them, but another part of her isn't sure.
There is always that possibility of the unknown, anything can happen.
She glances at Evan, and although she doesn't want to think it now that they have hopefully gotten past their burning hatred for one another, a brief thought comes to mind, thinking what if this is all a ploy?
This was his plan.
Find out where they are…
Get them together…
But she can't think of that, not now.
Not ever.
Or she will go insane.
Just as she begins dwelling on the fake betrayal that hasn't happened yet, she takes a deep breath and swallows down the idea, opening her eyes and walking straight ahead.
They reach the Estate a little bit later as small raindrops start to fall from the sky. Evan goes up the door first and holds it open despite him carrying an exorbitant amount of groceries.
Meg goes in first and goes to the kitchen, setting the paper bags down and immediately going to work putting the groceries in various empty cabinets. She has to shoo away a spider or two before she puts a box of mac and cheese in the pantry, but to her, it's worth it. They made sure to buy some ice, at Meg's request, to put in an ice chest to keep some things cold, as she almost forgot about the lack of refrigeration here. Evan was planning on throwing away the rest of the deer he made the other day, which Meg agreed, but now they can keep up on keeping a place cold to store more meat, which makes Meg's mouth water just thinking about it.
As they're done putting away groceries, Meg turns to Evan, wanting to bring up the Clown again, but at the same time, not wanting to get into an argument yet again.
"You want to talk," Evan states, looking at Meg. His eyes are lowered and his brows crease just slightly as he talks. He doesn't say anything as he gestures for her to follow, a slight nod of his head, as they walk into the other room with the fireplace and two leather chair across from each other.
A reminder of where they talked before, really talked about their lives.
Meg feels weird sitting across from him now.
It feels too familiar, but she shakes that thought from her head, just wanting to talk to him.
"I really didn't want to bring this up again-"
A sigh comes from Evan as he speaks, "But I know you, at least a little by now…what is it?" As though he read her mind, wanting to talk about something again and it makes Meg feel both irritated and listened to.
At least he's listening to her enough to know when something is bothering her, right?
She scowls, wanting to make him listen carefully, but the more she hesitates, the more she realizes he really is listening.
His eyes never leave hers, and his posture straightens, waiting for whatever she has to say, his whole body listening attentively. In contrast with his sarcastic words, she almost appreciates the full attention.
"We need to go learn more about these clown sightings. What if it's him? We are so close, and I feel like we are sitting ducks, and if we find out what we can, then we can either relax, or we can take care of it."
Evan stares at her as he leans back in his chair so softly, it couldn't be that much, but the way he relaxes is almost like a siren.
"And how do you think you'll protect yourself against him hmm?" He crosses one leg over the other, looking more like a therapist than a…friend? Accomplice? "Did you have much luck with him in the trials?"
"Well, no, but…" Meg starts stuttering slowly, so she stops for just a second, annoyed that her mouth and brain can't cooperate at this time. She hasn't has trouble with stuttering in years. "If you can come…I don't want to rely on you, and I know you don't want to hang around me and my friends, but…this is important. With everything, don't you think we should know?"
Evan takes in a deep breath and audibly sighs beside her. "Is this that important to you?"
"Yes!" Meg replies, a bit too quick, a bit too loud, "But I think it is important to all of us. And you out of anyone would have some insight, something to help-"
"If you haven't picked up on it, I don't want to think of that time. I don't need help, I just want to move on."
"Oh yeah, by living in your old house and doing what?" Meg snaps, a little bit too aggressive than she meant it to be. She closes her eyes and takes a breath, trying to relax for the next sentence. "We all went through Hell…you longer than most, I know that, but we can't just expect that waking up one day outside of it all is the end."
Evan stares at her, his eyes not even blinking as he thinks, various flashes of confusion, irritation, and something else mixed in flash across his face, as he thinks, is this truly what he wants…
"If it really is him, I doubt you and I would be strong enough to stop him."
"I want to take my friends. Nea, and David, and Claudette," Meg responds, as though she had the response prepared somewhere in her mind. "We can all go, and, truth me told, if it isn't him, then we can all relax..." Meg pauses and looks around the living room quickly, "since we are all so relaxed now…" she says dryly.
Evan doesn't say anything, but she could swear she sees the edge of his mouth twitch faintly into a smile for a split second before it disappears and is replaced by the familiar look of dread that comes across his face when he doesn't agree with her in the slightest.
"We talked about this-"
"But I don't agree," Meg interrupts, advocating for herself. "I want to know. I can get my friends, we can go, you don't have to come." Meg pauses and leans forward a little, resting her elbows on her knees as she makes sure to make eye contact with Evan as best as she can, "I am going whether you want to or not. This isn't about you and me. You can join me if you want."
Evan tips his head up as though he's looking at Meg from the bottom of his nose, his face scrunched up in disgust.
"You would really go, you and your survivor friends, risk yourselves for what? A hunch?"
"It's more than a hunch! If it's anything we can know, at all, then that means everything. That's why I'm still here with you, isn't it?" She blurts out. Even shifts in his chair at her words, yet says nothing.
Her words come flying out of her mouth faster than she meant, but in all honesty, that's what she should mean, right?
She's here at the Estate to find out what's going on.
She's not there for him.
So why does it feel like she just said something to attack him?
"Anyways," she says, changing the subject as the silence draws on a bit too long. "I feel like I should go get my friends and get them on board," Meg says while holding up an extra phone, "Plus I guess they'll be wanting this, whether you're coming with me or not."
Evan's eyes flicker over to the phone Meg pulls out of her pocket. "I'm going to regret this…but so you want me to go with you? To find Jeffrey-" he pauses, clearing his throat, "The Clown?"
"Jeffrey? Is that his name? No, nevermind that is for another time..." Meg shakes her head before continuing, "but it's up to you if you are coming or not," she says, not quite sure what else to say, and definitely not expecting him to offer to help after his adamant refusal earlier and her being very blatantly passive just moments ago. His proposal catches her off guard.
"If it were up to me, I wouldn't go, but I believe I asked do you want me to go?" Evan asks again, putting emphasis on the 'want'. Meg wants to say no, let him off the hook, but she isn't stupid. She knows if she were to go alone with just her friends, there would be a strong possibility that something bad would happen. Even if it wasn't the Clown, there is a murderer out there and she isn't too keen on actually going and being face-to-face with one alone.
"Fine, yes. I want you to come. I would feel a lot safer if you did..." Meg says, looking away from him, hating the way that she admitted to feeling safer having him by her side.
"Then I'll go. We can leave straight from your friends' hotel once we give them the phone," he suggests with hesitation in his voice that Meg chooses to ignore for the sake of not having to go alone. "If I can't stop you, I suppose it's the least I could do...make sure you stay alive."
Meg looks at him, the smallest of smiles flashes on her face as she pushes the phone back into her pocket.
"Well, I appreciate it," Meg says, pushing herself up from the chair and stretching her arms up. "So are we going now?"
As soon as the words leave her mouth, the blinding flash of lightening illuminates the room followed only a couple of seconds later by a loud crack of thunder that resounds around them.
"I don't particularly want to be walking out in the storm," Evan responds dryly.
"I…" Meg lets out a huff of disappointment, "You're right. Okay but as soon as this storm passes, we go."
Evan nods, silently agreeing.
Meg sits back down in the chair and watches as Evan gets up and starts stoking the dying fire they had forgot to put out before they left earlier. She sighs to herself, thankful that nothing happened to the house or its contents while they were gone.
After a few minutes, the fire starts crackling and spreading warmth around the room that makes Meg relax more in her chair. By this time, the thunder and lightning has only gotten worse as now raindrops hit the windows and roof around them hard, a soothing sound that makes Meg melt into the chair even more.
Meg looks around at some of the books in the bookcases around her as she decides to get up. May as well spend this time doing something. She picks out a pretty blue book with intricate silver designs along the spine. Although she doesn't know what book it is, she settles back into her chair, and begins to read.
Knights of the Round Table. She vaguely remembers learning about King Arthur in school, but at that time, she couldn't have cared less about it. Now, she is happy to be able to read anything again. Evan gets up and walks over to the minibar across the room, getting himself a drink. He settles back into his chair and stares at the fire, though every now and then his eyes flicker over to Meg who pretends not to notice.
As Meg reads, her eyes begin to feel heavy and with the warmth coming from the fire and the sounds of the storm outside, she can hardly stay awake. Debating on going upstairs to her bed, she pushes the thought from her mind, whether it was because she was too lazy to go up there, or if it was too comfortable down here, she doesn't dwell on the reason. She closes her eyes only expecting to sleep just a few minutes.
A little cat nap is all she needs.
She rests her head to the side and lets sleep overtake her once again.
—
Waking up what seems like hours later, the sounds of the storm that lulled her to sleep continue raging outside, soothing Meg as she lets out a yawn and opens her eyes. The purple blanket from yesterday is draped on her once again, and instead of throwing it off right away, she grabs it and curls into it almost instinctively.
Someone may as well use it.
Evan still sits across from her snoring so softly, she can barely hear it, with a piece of paper clutched in his hand, replacing the glass of whiskey from earlier.
Flashes from morning come to mind when she watched him sleep, and she almost doesn't want to curse it again, doesn't want him to wake up in a panic with her watching him.
She almost closes her eyes, wanting to sleep some more, until he drops the paper. Meg watches it float gently to the ground so close to the fire, she thinks it might float in and burn up. She gets up from the chair and rushes over on her toes, trying not to make any noise so she can catch it and place it on the other side of him as she waits for him to wake up.
Meg flattens the paper out, and as much as she tries not to look, the name Arlene MacMillan catches her eye. She glances back at Evan quickly, hearing him still snoring, so she goes back to the paper, scanning its contents. As her eyes scan the page, her heart sinks and her chest feels tight as she looks between the letter and Evan, thinking about the life that could have been if this letter actually took place…
My Dearest Waylon,
I did not want to drag you into this mess, and I know this is foolish, but I have to think of my son. I finally acquired enough money, I think it will be enough, to take us far away from this place, away from that monster. I see the way he looks at Evan. There is an evil there that I cannot describe, yet it chills me to the bone. I see a lot of Archie in Evan as well, and that scares me more than anything. I refuse to let my son become anything like his father. The plans are set, the money is buried beneath the old cedar tree where Evan and I would sit when I taught him how to read. Dig it up and meet us on the other side of the woods at 5AM. We will be waiting. I will give you your payment at that time. You have no idea what this means to me, means to us, as I know you are betraying your boss. I will make sure Archie never knows it was his right-hand man who helped us. Please, help us, there is no other way. You can come too, should you change your mind, but we are leaving. We have to get away from this place.
Much love,
Arlene Rhodes-MacMillan