Pt. I
Evan
It's All My Fault
Cold draft. Aching back. Pounding head.
Evan reaches out beside him without opening his eyes, expecting Meg to still be by his side but when his hand meets empty space, his eyes fly open.
Sometime during the night he laid down on the floor, and although it is still dark and the fire has died down, he can see enough through the room to notice that Meg is nowhere around.
Listening for any signs of her, the silence he hears in return is almost painful the longer it lasts. Pushing himself up, the living room spins around him for a second before he blinks, regaining his balance. With a sidewards glance, he looks at the nearly empty bottle of whiskey on the ground and groans, knowing that they pushed it, and he probably had just a little bit too much to drink.
Trying not to panic as he begins to search the house, he thinks that she could be anywhere. Getting water, in the restroom, or even upstairs curled back into bed. He ignores the slight pang of hurt that she wouldn't try to wake him up to go upstairs with her, but seeing her curled up in bed is a sight he wants to see.
He tries not to think about the possibility of their bed being empty.
Checking the rooms downstairs, Evan only hears the echo of his footsteps as cold panic starts building in his chest with each empty room he finds.
He shouldn't feel like this, he knows, but for some reason it simply does not seem like her to not be next to him when he wakes up.
Maybe it is something he just got accustomed to, comfortable with, and when it doesn't happen, his routine is thrown off. He shouldn't rely on waking up next to her every day, and he told her as much last night…
So he makes his way upstairs, thinking about how she could look in his - no - their bed. She likes to sleep sprawled out, which doesn't mix well with his giant frame when he wakes up to a foot in his side or an arm across his face, but once he nudges her even slightly she curls into him, melting into his chest as he tries to ignore the warm sensation that flows through his body every time she sighs and scoots closer to him in her sleep.
When he opens up the door, he expects to see her, limbs sprawled out, not touching, and her hair framing her face as she snores quietly, sleeping through anything, but his stomach sinks when the bed is empty.
Where is she?
Did she leave?
Did she finally come to her senses and take what he said to heart?
Swallowing any sort of emotion, not wanting to think too much into it, he walks back downstairs and turns the corner, walking back into the foyer, and he notices that the only shoes that line the wall are his boots. The realization that he is completely alone in the house crashes into him, turning his blood cold and squeezing the air from his lungs.
No…
Bursting through the front door with a bang that rattles in his ears, he rushes off towards the guest house, his feet pounding into the dirt so hard, he feels like he is leaving massive tracks in his wake.
His heart pounds in his chest, furious at everything in that moment. Furious that Meg would leave without saying anything, furious that they had that conversation last night, furious that something in his sorry life can't just…be. But most of all, he is furious at himself for potentially making her leave. He Is furious he didn't say the right thing, didn't ease her troubled thoughts that he knew were going through her mind.
He was - no - he is a fool.
Before he passed out - dumb mistake - she practically told him things he had only dreamed of saying to her. Never thinking she could ever feel that way for a monster like him, he thought he was safe. He never had to give into those thoughts himself, and she could help him maintain a safe distance emotionally so if she did leave…
If she did leave, he wouldn't feel as absolutely shattered as he does right now.
Please, please just let her be out on a run, or with her friends in the guest house. Let her be anywhere around there, and not simply…gone.
He approaches the guest house, and although the sun is starting to rise, causing the dark black sky to turn more blue, the silence and darkness of the house is as haunting as anything.
Without bothering to knock, he rushes inside, unprepared for the door to be unlocked and the house still. Whipping his head from side-to-side to search for any hint that there is another person in the house, their jackets, shoes, and belongings are nowhere to be found.
No one is here.
He is alone.
Completely and utterly alone.
Frozen to the spot, Evan's thoughts, once racing, now disappear completely. All he hears is the ringing in his ears, the sounds of nature and the house muffled around him.
Last night, just a few hours ago, he thought he was doing the right thing. He thought that if he gave her her freedom, that she would…
Truth be told, he wasn't sure what she would do, or what he expected. All he knew was that she needed freedom. She deserves as much, through everything, and staying with him cooped up at the estate in a small town in Washington was doing nothing for her.
She deserves so much, so much that he can't give her, and as much as he wanted her to stay, the guilt that eats at him every day seeing her grow more and more comfortable with him would only grow to be too much for him to handle.
He thought telling her that she could leave was the right thing to do but now that he is alone, he regrets…everything.
He should have held her, kissed her, encompassed her within his arms, within his whole being, carried her upstairs and shown her just how much he wants her, needs her, and now…
He hopes to any god, any deity listening, that it isn't too late.
Swallowing hard, he turns away from the empty house and begins to walk back to the main house slowly. Sounds begin to return, and he hears soft chirping of birds waking up, and wind blowing gently through the swaying trees. His boots, still untied from rushing out the door, squish in the wet grass.
It must have rained.
With a deep breath and a slow exhale, he knows he is rushing to conclusions, situations that haven't happened yet. She could have easily gone out. She has done it before, and there is no reason why she should tell him where she's going. That is not something she owes to him despite how much he wishes she could have said something.
Unless something bad happened and she didn't leave on her own volition.
But, that doesn't make sense. Her shoes and hoodie are gone, and through a struggle or kidnapping, she wouldn't have had a chance to get dressed. Plus all of her friends are gone too, and they were going out for the night.
Perhaps they are on their way back.
Perhaps Meg went to go join them after their conversation.
As he approaches the house, with another shaky exhale, Evan feels a bit more calm, a bit more rational, although doubt still claws at his chest with every heartbeat. He ignores it as best as he can as he pushes the door closed and walks to the sitting room.
The fire is now just a small flame, not enough to heat anything, and he debates on putting it out and trying to go to bed, or make the fire and wait for Meg to come back to a warm house.
A place that Evan began to think of as their home.
Deciding on the latter, knowing that he wouldn't be able to sleep no matter how hard he tried while not knowing where Meg is, he begins to throw more wood into the fire that Meg had stacked neatly in the room earlier that day.
Stoking the growing fire, he doesn't think about much; he can't let his mind wander. Therefore he pushes down the growing thoughts of increasingly improbable situations that won't help the situation at hand, and for all he knows, she is okay.
She will come back.
It's the alcohol, he tells himself. It makes him paranoid, it always did. One or two glasses of whiskey would calm him after a particularly bad day, but anymore than that and the paranoia would settle in like snow. It would trickle in slowly, softly, until all too late he felt like he was suffocating and began making crazy accusations of his workers, their maids and housekeepers, of his father.
The next days were the worst. Anxiety, depression, and paranoia settled into his bones like a cancer until the only thing that could help was more drinking.
But as much as Evan drank, he always told himself he wouldn't be like his father.
Yet look at him now…after drinking he pushed away the one thing he cherishes most in the world, and he only hopes he didn't do it permanently.
He can fix this.
He has to.
Sitting down in one of the chairs next to the fire, he closes his eyes as he leans his head back.
He will be better.
Just please, let her come back.
He doesn't know how long he sits there for, lost in his own thoughts of his past, his present, and how interconnected things have become. As he thinks of his past, he catches himself remembering the kitchen as it looks now with color, and the red coffee and tea tray that is red like Meg's hair. Or how he pictures the foyer with shoes and jackets, all modern and foreign, but surprisingly comfortable to him.
He doesn't want any of this to change, not yet. He's not ready.
Just as his mind drifts to another memory, he hears footsteps just outside of the door and his eyes fly open as he leaps out of the chair. Rushing to the door, he is greeted by Nea, Claudette, Kate, and Ace. Looking over their heads he sees Dwight and David walking towards the guest house before Nea closes the door and begins kicking off her mud-stained sneakers.
"Aye big guy. Nice to see you finally out of your room. You and Meg sure were exhausted," she says, juggling a bottle of wine in one arm and supporting Ace who is struggling to take off his shoes with her other arm. Evan quickly ignores her winking at him at the thought of them sleeping all day as rising panic finally claws its way from his chest when he doesn't see Meg with them.
"Is Meg with you?" Evan asks, already feeling his palms begin to sweat and his heart rate pick up as he only sees a handful of her friends. Nea is the first to stop and look around with a raised eyebrow before turning back to Evan.
"No, why? Is she not here with you?"
Pt. II
Meg
It Wasn't Your Fault
Aching back. Pounding head. Hard wood. Rough rope around her wrists.
Before opening her eyes, Meg lets her senses come back to her one-by-one as she lets out a quiet groan at the increasingly intense feelings that overtake her body. Her head throbs painfully, mostly on the side near her temple, and she feels something cool and sticky along her head that runs down her jawline and onto her chest.
Taking in a deep breath, her stomach grips painfully instantly making her nauseous, and with no warning, she heaves over and expels old burning alcohol as her vomit splashes onto the floor around her.
The putrid stench of whiskey mixed with her own bile is enough to send her head and stomach into another wave of pain, but she swallows hard, her throat already feeling scratchy and sore.
Finally peeking an eye open, her vision is blurry until she blinks a couple of times, willing her eyes to adjust to the dark room around her. The first thing she notices is how she isn't in the same room she was in last…is she?
Wait…
Glancing around the room, she sees no pictures, but there are small lanterns lighting up the room around her.
Did she imagine those pictures? Was that real? Where is she?
Collecting her thoughts, she swallows hard and kicks her way to one corner of the room farthest from a single door across from her. The room is tiny, just like the one she remembers, and the looming door in front of her does anything but calm her raging nerves building inside her.
She needs to get out of here, wherever "here" is, but she knows she can't just sit and wait around. Tugging at the rope that binds her hands together in front of her, it doesn't budge, and rather it tightens until it is uncomfortable and Meg can feel her fingertips start to tingle from the circulation being cut off.
That's not going to stop her…it can't…
Clearing her throat, she pushes herself up with help of the wall despite her head throbbing and the room spinning around her. Once she is fully upright, she takes a moment to catch her breath before she tiptoes over to the door, pressing her ear on it to see if she can hear anything from the other side.
She isn't sure exactly what she expects or wants to hear, but when she is met with alarming silence, she doesn't know if she should rejoice or panic just yet.
As her eyes race around the door, she tries to grip the door handle awkwardly with her bound hands, but when it doesn't budge, her stomach sinks.
Of course it would be locked, of course, and Meg wants to smack herself for not even thinking about that possibility when she saw the door, but right now she can't stop. She needs to get out and get back to her friends and to Evan.
Evan…
Her heart sinks and her stomach flips again imagining how he could be feeling right now. They haven't been apart for the last few weeks they've been back, and now that she has been gone for…
How long has she been gone?
Goddammit…she hates how they left things and she only hopes that he knows she is gone…that she didn't leave.
"I wouldn't blame you if you left. You should go, live your life."
What if he thinks that she left? Would he even bother to come and find her?
He has to. If her friends have any say, they would know she is gone by now…right?
Her head spins and the room seems to close in on itself as she falls to the ground, chest tightening and lungs not getting enough air.
Is she stuck here?
"You really shouldn't be in here, doll."
Jed Olsen's voice echoes in her mind almost forgetting that he was the reason she is here…and with someone else.
Someone hit her, made her pass out, so he's not alone and that could only mean that she is outnumbered, out powered.
She has to leave.
Standing up straight, she takes a few steps away from the door and through blurred vision, she kicks off the ground and puts all of her weight into a kick at the door handle, trying anything to either break it off, loosen it, or straight up break the door down.
She isn't sure what outcome she wants in that moment, but anything to help her get out is her one priority.
The door doesn't budge, and with a huff of frustration, Meg kicks it again, splintering some of the wood around the handle, but not enough to make any sort of dent in the door. With her adrenaline pumping and heart racing, she braces herself for another kick until she hears small footsteps on the other side of the door.
"Meg, stop!" A muffled voice hisses at her from the other side of the door.
Meg freezes. "Feng?"
Every thought, every single feeling Meg has Feng in that moment comes crashing around her wondering why she would be there, or what she's doing, and how after everything, Meg never wanted to be right that Feng was up to something.
She wanted it to be paranoia. She wanted her thoughts to be just because they have been through so much, but now as she stands frozen in the middle of the empty room and hears the faintest click as Feng unlocks the door, Meg feels suffocated by the weight of betrayal she feels.
As though nothing were wrong or out of the ordinary, Feng comes inside and quickly pushes the door closed behind her with a small click in one rushed motion.
"Why're you making so much noise? Don't you have any common sense?" Feng hisses at Meg, taking furious steps towards her.
"Excuse me? Common sense? What about this situation screams 'keep quiet and have common sense?'" Meg spits back. "What the fuck is going on?"
"If you could react calmly to a situation for once and listen-"
"Listen? Listen to what? Listen to you?"
"Yes!" Feng shouts louder before visibly flinching to herself and glaring back to Meg, continuing talking quieter than before. "Listen to me."
The two stare at each other, both breathing out of their flared nostrils like animals preparing to attack, and Meg thinks back to the trials she often had with Feng.
They were always butting heads in the trials, especially if it was just down to the two of them as they tried to figure out what was best in that situation, and then for a while, Meg would never hear the end of it if she was wrong.
But at the end of everything, Meg thought of her like family. The annoying sibling that she never could get along with without bickering, but…
She trusted her.
And that's what hurt the most.
As seconds pass, Feng's rapid breathing and hard expression begin to soften until she reaches out towards Meg who steps back so she is just out of reach.
She doesn't want to be near her, and any thread of trust that she had has been broken, clipped away like it meant absolutely nothing, and as Meg scowls at Feng, a muscle in her neck twitches as she takes in a deep breath.
Feng's eyes flicker down to Meg's neck and back up, and instead of escalating the situation like Meg expects, Feng only smiles. But the way that the corners of her mouth tug into a smile, one that Meg wants to punch off her face, reminds her of smiles she knows all too well from her past life, her life before the Entity, and she never wanted to be directed at her way ever again.
She often saw those types of smiles on her teacher's faces when she walked into class after she had pulled an all-nighter working and then had to come to school sleep-deprived. It was one worn by the social worker that was there to "help" her when her mom was in and out of treatments at the hospital. It was one worn by her mom when she decided not to go to college and stay behind to help with bills.
It was a smile of pity.
And Meg hated it.
"Now, can we talk like rational adults?" Feng says, gesturing to the floor as she sits down in front of Meg. Crossing her legs, she looks up and waits for Meg to either follow or refuse, but either way, it is clear that she is saying nothing until Meg makes her decision.
Instead of focusing on where to sit, Meg glances between Feng and the door behind her, and Meg is tempted to leave her, run through the door she knows Feng didn't lock and finally get back to Evan.
Her whole being needs to be next to him and she could kick herself for leaving the comfort of his presence…
But that is for another time.
Now it's time for a decision.
"I wouldn't try that if I were you," Feng speaks up as though she read her mind. "I know that's your specialty, running from your problems, but I think we should talk first. I think you'll really want to hear what I have to say."
With blood boiling in her veins, Meg peels her eyes from the door and directs her attention towards the girl on the floor before taking a few steps back until she hits the wall behind her. Not quite sitting down but not running away, Meg crosses a leg in front of the other, waiting for whatever excuse Feng has to say to her right now.
Thousands of questions fire through Meg's mind that she wants to ask in that moment, not sure where to start.
Why is Feng here?
Where are they?
She must be working with Jed and Herman with…something, right?
What is it?
Why would she ever give them the benefit of the doubt after everything all of them have been through?
Meg feels her face burn as her blood gets hotter by the second so she settles on the one thing that blares like a siren in her mind.
"How long have you been working with them?" She hisses out so sharp like the metaphorical dagger she wants to throw at Feng right then and there.
Feng's small smile falters a little but she takes a deep breath before answering.
"Right after we got back from Chimacum, from the hospital. Herman followed us, and Jed was already here and well-"
"He followed us? And did you know about this?!" Meg yells, her voice cracking at the sheer volume of her words, but before she could get anything else out, Feng interrupts by shushing her and reaching her arms out.
"For goodness sake, Meg, can you please keep it down? I wasn't kidding when I said that you need to be quiet!" Feng scolds.
"Why? Afraid Herman will come in here?" Meg accuses, not quite thinking about the implications of what she is saying and how she doesn't want anyone else coming in as much as Feng does, but right now, Meg is on the attack.
She just doesn't understand how Feng can be so calm right now.
"No. No, Meg. Look," Feng finally looks away and sighs. "He…he has opened my eyes to so much."
"Oh…so the dick really that good, Feng?" Meg spits out, flinching at how immature and petty it sounded leaving her mouth, but she couldn't just let Feng say the same to her when she was defending Evan as she stands here defending others that are, reasonably, so much worse than Evan ever could be.
"Meg please, this isn't time for any of your childish comebacks. I'm serious."
"Then explain to me why you're working with them! Why on Earth, after everything, would you ever be able to trust them? Want to be with them?"
"Because everything we thought was a lie," Feng says like it is such a simple fact. "Because it was just a big game, you see? A game of cat and mouse, for survival, yes, but it was a game. The way they explain it, it makes sense. It all makes sense."
"What are you even talking about?" Meg asks, not letting herself believe a word coming from Feng's mouth. "They've brainwashed you, that's it. Whatever nonsense they've made you believe, it isn't real!"
The same pitiful smile appears on Feng's face that makes Meg's stomach churn.
"That's not true. You just have to listen! Don't you see, Meg? They've made me realize there is more to this life, more to us, more to our own mortal selves," Feng begins saying looking around the room like she is seeing something Meg isn't. Her eyes follow the movements of something invisible, something Meg can't even possibly begin to imagine in the dark shadows of the room. "I spent my life trying to be the best at games, the best at anything I set my mind to. But that, it doesn't matter. Not anymore. Not when there's so much more at stake."
"I don't understand…"
"It wasn't real. None of it. It was an illusion, a figment of our own minds."
"Feng…"
"They're coming back and I can't be in here, but Meg, knowing it's not real, would it be so bad to go back? We will have the knowledge of what it would take to win, to finally feel free in our choices elsewhere."
"Feng, don't leave, not like this. What you're saying is insane, you have to know that!"
"It's not," Feng laughs. "Herman has opened my eyes, and I only hope that you can see in time as well. Even Jed had some good points…"
Meg's heart sinks at Feng's blatant confession.
"Feng, no, look we have to get out of here," Meg takes a step forward and collapses down to her knees in front of Feng, panic rising in her voice.
"Just listen to them," Feng smiles, resting a small hand on Meg's shoulder, "That's all I ask."
Meg flinches at Feng's touch but doesn't respond, not right away, as she tries to gather her thoughts that fly around her mind out of control.
"Why the hell should I listen? Why should I even listen to you?" Meg says barely above a whisper as she stares at Feng, wanting to shake her, slap some sense into her, do something other than plead with her on the ground. But, once again, a small smile appears on Feng's face as she pushes herself up off the ground, looking down at Meg with an uncharacteristic look of peace.
"You tried to convince me that Evan was a decent man. I hope that you can find it in your heart to listen to Herman, at least. Jed on the other hand, he's a little harder to read, a little harder to get along with, but Herman will convince you. I'm sure of it."
Feng gives Meg a small nod as she turns to leave, but then Meg cries out, "Wait!"
There is silence between them as Meg tries to find anything that would make Feng stay, make Feng be on her side again, make Feng believe her again. Feng stops, waiting for whatever Meg has to say next without moving a muscle.
"This is so much different than with Evan, and Feng, you have to know this. You know this is insane…" Meg pauses, waiting for any sign of the person she once knew, "This is insane," she repeats, at a loss for words.
"I thought so too at one point. I really did," Feng says, turning once more towards Meg as she looks down at her. "But that's the fun part about all of this, you know. Just let things unfold, have an open mind, and I think you'll come to see a new point of view."
"But," Meg yells, panic rising in her chest, her voice, "what about everything we've been through? Does that mean nothing to you now?
Feng doesn't reply right away as she looks away, and for a moment Meg lets herself feel victorious, like she finally got through to whatever bullshit brainwashing has been done on Feng.
"You know," Feng starts off by saying quietly, pausing while taking in a deep breath and looking back at Meg, making eye contact. "Out of everything I learned in the Entity's realm, the two most important lessons I learned was never to take advantage of the ability to adapt to a new situation, and how things are never quite what they seem. What makes sense to you now may be just as crazy in the future."
"You're insane…" Meg mutters as her chest crushes the air from her lungs.
"No, and I hope soon you realize I'm making just as much sense as this world allows," Feng says smiling at Meg. She walks over to the door and just as she walks out almost completely, she turns her head over her shoulder. "Jed wanted to see you first. He should be in soon. I'll let him know you're awake."
Pt. III
Evan
How Can I Let Go?
Silence. A concept Evan thought he knew, a thing he thought he experienced, but the silence that followed Nea's question had never been so loud.
"Is she not here with you?" Nea repeats, echoing in Evan's mind. Evan can't even look at the group as they slowly, one-by-one, begin to realize what Evan hesitates to say. Part of him feels like this is all of his fault and if he convinced her to stay, if he didn't pass out, if he didn't drink…
"She's not here," he mutters barely above a whisper, not because he doesn't feel like he can't talk, but instead he feels as though if he were to talk any louder, his anger would take over.
"What do you mean she's not here? Where else would she be?" Nea's already short frame shrinks just a little bit like a cat ready to run, and she practically drops Ace onto the floor as she rushes into the living room looking around like Meg would simply be in a corner hiding as a prank, one that Evan desperately hoped would happen, even though he knows that would be impossible.
The looks the group exchanges to one another confuses Evan for multiple reasons, and for a moment, he isn't sure exactly how he should feel.
For one selfish reason, he is relieved. Relieved that maybe she didn't leave him. He didn't push her away like the fool he is, and he knows she wouldn't just leave without her friends.
That simple fact is relief, even slightly, but before he can rejoice in the matter of her not leaving because of his own feelings on the two of them, a whole new wave of panic and anger settles over him.
"Could she just be out on a run?" Claudette speaks up, her voice hopeful as she walks into the room with Nea and Evan.
"Possibly," Evan mumbles, not believing it himself.
"No, not possibly," Nea argues, swinging around to face Evan and Claudette as her eyes narrow yet she says nothing for a few seconds, to which Evan is grateful.
She's right, he knows she is. It wouldn't be like her to go out in the middle of the night without telling anyone, without telling him. After everything with Jed and Herman, the sheer irresponsibility she would have to feel to go out on her own would be ridiculous.
She sure is brash and rushes into situations, but he doesn't think she would be so careless, so reckless.
She would have at least told him she was leaving, right?
"I don't think she would just leave," Nea continues, her voice low almost like she is growling at Evan, putting the blame on him for Meg missing somehow. She continues, gesturing rudely to Evan as she looks over at Claudette as she speaks, "She wouldn't leave without her fucking bodyguard here…unless he did something to upset her."
Nea turns to Evan, her eyes narrowed in suspicion as she points a finger at him. He is taken aback by the sudden accusation but that only fuels the fire that was flickering in his chest.
"After everything, do you really believe that I would do anything to put her in harm's way?" Evan says barely above a whisper, worried that if he were to raise his voice, the anger and panic he feels would only come out to attack Nea.
"I'm just saying that no matter how much you want to pretend that you'd protect her, we still don't know you or what fucked up shit you could do if you got into a fight!"
Something breaks in Evan at Nea's words, his voice coming out much deeper and louder than he ever intended to show anyone. "I would die before I let anything happen to Meg and who the hell are you to suggest otherwise?"
"You know full well who I am to her and I've said before I'd kill you where you stand if anything happens to her because you don't care-"
"Don't you dare suggest I don't care," Evan yells, punching the doorframe beside him as he interrupts Nea. Without missing a beat, he continues, his words coming out before he can stop and think about what he's saying, "I love her!"
Oh.
His voice echoes around the house and is eaten up by the silence that follows his admission, words he never even thought to himself but are now blaring in the dark house. Nea and Claudette stare at him, neither looking particularly surprised, but both giving him a look of uncertainty.
Uncertain of his feelings, uncertain of where this conversation is going.
Evan can't say he isn't a bit relieved when Claudette takes another step into the room and finally looks away from him and at the fire.
"So what do we do?" She asks, taking a seat in one of the leather chairs as she folds her hands in her lap. "Just sit and wait to see if she comes back?"
"I'm going to look for her," Evan states matter-of-factly as he marches towards the front door to pull on his own boots before he hears Nea laugh from behind him.
"Yeah? And where are you even going to go?"
"I don't know! But we have to start somewhere. I grew up in these woods-"
"So what? You're just going to walk through every square foot of the fucking woods outside? We need a game plan."
"We don't have time! If she is with…anyone that isn't here right now, it can't be good."
"Do you think we don't know that? We know just how horrible the killers-"
Evan pinches his nose and shakes his head.
"I know!" he yells. Arguments come to his mind that he has had with Meg in the past, arguments he would rather not remember, not right now, not when this could be his fault.
"We should come up with a plan," Kate speaks up from the foyer, leaving Ace's side as she walks into the living room with the rest of the group. "You know she could be anywhere, honey, and if we go out actin' all unprepared, well, there's a lot that could happen."
"I don't care what all of you do. Plan, sit around, wait, it makes no difference to me but I cannot sit here while she could be in trouble. I refuse to let anything happen to her…not when…" Evan's voice trails off thinking about their last conversation and how close he came to admitting his feelings, admitting everything he ever wanted to tell her.
They skirted around the topic, just as they have for the last few weeks, that much is obvious, and for him to get so close for it to be taken away once more…
He can't go through that, and he doesn't know if he could ever live with himself if something happened to her.
He loves her, and he feels lifted up by the weight of his admission to her friends, and it's about time he told Meg herself.
He just hopes it isn't too late.
"Look," Kate says, resting a hand on Evan's forearm, making him stop for a moment. He stares at the door, not at her, but he lets her talk, say her piece. "You going off on some wild goose chase through the woods isn't going to solve anything, and in fact, it could hurt Meg even more if she really is in danger. You'll waste time that we don't have."
She's right, Evan knows she is, but every rational part in his brain has been overshadowed by the one fact that he can't live with himself knowing that something happened because he wasn't there to protect her.
"Let's just talk it out, real quick. Doesn't have to take long, but we need to start somewhere."
Swallowing any part of his mind that tells him to ignore her and go out into the woods, he nods and turns around. Briefly looking at Ace passed out on the steps, he figures he wouldn't be any help so he looks to the three women standing in front of him.
"Okay, good," Claudette nods as she looks from Kate to Evan. "So I suppose the question is was she taken or did she leave willingly?"
"Well her shoes are gone, and with the big guy over there being confused as all Hell when we walked in without her, I'm assuming there wasn't a struggle if she were to be taken out of here by force," Nea mutters as she paces around the room.
"I would have woken up if anyone was in here," Evan mutters, thinking aloud to himself. He isn't sure if he is telling them this because it's true or because he is trying to reassure himself.
"Well you did sleep through her leaving," Nea chides under her breath.
"That is different than someone forcefully coming in here and taking her. She isn't one to go down without a fight," Evan says right back.
"Do you think I don't know that?"
"Stop it you two. We are all worried but bickering like children while we are trying to figure things out won't help," Claudette speaks up as she glares at both Nea and Evan as though she were scolding her own children.
The two don't say anything more before Kate clears her throat and continues.
"So I'm assuming the consensus is that she left voluntarily. No matter what she chose, she could end up coming back if she did just go for a walk, or we can go out and find her."
"Or maybe she was following someone or something. Maybe she saw something weird outside," Nea suggests, pausing for a moment to look outside.
"What would she see to follow? If it were anyone dangerous, we can only assume she would wake up Evan first before going out on her own."
"Now that you mention it, where's your other friend? Feng?" Evan asks, recalling Meg voicing opinions on her a few times within the last few days especially, but it was nothing that Evan felt he needed to worry about or remember, and he's beginning to think that maybe that was a mistake.
"She's not at the other house?" Claudette asks.
Evan shakes his head. "I looked through there before I came back here. It was empty then you all showed up."
"Why would she be out at night?"
Silence falls on the group as they all exchange worried glances, each of them not wanting to be the first to speak up against their friend, so Evan takes the initiative being the only one who feels no attachment to the girl one way or the other.
"Meg has had doubts about her for the last few weeks, ever since we returned from the hospital in fact."
"What was she saying?" Nea asks, pushing herself up off the wall that she leaned against.
Evan can't help but smirk thinking that Meg only confided in him of her doubts, especially after Nea's spectacle earlier, but he won't make a big deal out of it, at least not right now.
"She mentioned that Feng hasn't been quite herself and has been away from the group-"
"Yeah but that's normal for Feng," she says, crossing her arms almost arguing with Evan.
"I am merely repeating what Meg has told me. She also has mentioned that Feng has gone into the woods a lot alone, and has been often wondering where she goes. Maybe…" Evan replies, trailing off as he begins to piece things together slowly.
"Maybe she followed Feng into the woods," Claudette finishes his sentence. "Well, if that's the case then maybe she's okay. They're just off together."
"Doing what though? Why would Feng need to go into the woods alone in the middle of the night?" Nea argues.
"I don't know," Evan admits, wanting to say more but is quickly interrupted by Kate.
"Well, you said it yourself, you know every inch of these woods. Is there anything that either of them would want to go find or anywhere they could go in general?"
Evan thinks for a moment before remembering the notebook Meg found earlier in his father's study.
"There are these cabins hidden deep in the woods."
"Hidden cabins?" Nea scoffs like she doesn't quite believe the idea. "And do you really think these 'hidden cabins' would still be so hidden now what, 100 years later?"
"I don't know," Evan snaps back, sending a glare Nea's way that makes her folded arms fall to her side as she looks away. "Meg found some coordinates to said cabins earlier, and other than that, there shouldn't be anything else out there except for a few overlooks to lakes and such. That is my best guess if we want to start looking at these cabins."
"That sounds like a pretty logical place to start," Claudette speaks up, looking at everyone while giving a small nod. "What do you guys think?"
"I agree, hun. At least we'll have a few different places to start," Kate agrees.
Nea doesn't jump in and neither does Evan, the two of them looking anywhere but at each other. With a huff, Kate speaks again gesturing to the both of them, "So? Are you two done bickering or can we go find where Meg has run off to?"
Evan has to bite his tongue in order not to say what is really on his mind:
How he would already be out there looking for her if it weren't for them, or how he would have a better time, an easier time without them following him around, or how he is practically itching out of his skin wanting to just leave.
Her friends are nice and have made him feel things he never thought he could feel again, like he belonged somewhere, but none of that mattered if Meg wasn't by his side, and they could have had a head start if her friends didn't keep him back like they have.
You didn't have to listen, a small voice says in the back of his mind that sounds strangely like his father's.
But then again, you were always a coward.
Swallowing any sort of emotion, he nods and pulls on his boots he clenched tightly in one hand, his hands shaking so much that his knuckles turn white with the force he grips his boots.
"But see, the one thing I can't get my head around is why the fuck are there hidden cabins in the woods to begin with, and why did your dad need coordinates to them? What was he doing with all of them?"
This is not what Evan wants to be talking about right now, and this isn't going to help get Meg back.
"You don't have to go into detail," Claudette offers, "But it would be good to know what the purpose of them was before we go off into the woods ourselves."
Evan takes a deep breath, quickly losing his patience, but he can do this one last thing, for Meg.
"My father was a cruel man and often drove his workers to insane limits, which included them building hidden cabins in these woods in order to meet the demands my father set for them. It's…" he pinches the bridge of his nose and shakes his head. They don't have time for this. "It's a long story, one that I can fill in later, but now that we've come to some agreement, I'm going to look for Meg."
Evan pushes past Kate who stands at the edge of the foyer and the living room, his heart in his throat as he can only begin to imagine where she is.
"Should we get David and Dwight?" Claudette asks from behind Evan as he hears her rush into the foyer.
"I'll go get them," Nea says, already shoving past Evan in the doorway and trudging her way to the guest house.
"I'll wait along the tree-line," Evan mumbles, just wanting to leave already and having to wait again for others to join in their search and possibly waste time is enough for him to want to abandon them completely.
So he doesn't wait for an answer this time, and even though he begins to hear talking behind him coming form Claudette and Kate, he doesn't stop, he simply walks towards the woods focusing on his breathing and controlling his racing thoughts.
Meg is out there, somewhere.
She is out there, potentially in danger, potentially not, but with each step as his heel digs into the ground, he can't help but think of the worst possible scenarios, and as he nears the tree-line, he doesn't stop.
He keeps going, pushing himself through the trees that line the trail to the house without so much as a second thought. Regretfully, he knows where most of the cabins are, the locations burned in his memory from the times he tried to help his coworkers, his friends, but never quite did them the justice they deserved.
Honestly, he doesn't know why Feng would have an interest in any of the cabins or why Meg would want to go to them late at night, but that is not what he's focusing on right now.
He focuses on the times that they had together where it was so easy to tell her how he feels.
Within the Entity's realm, he spent decades coming to terms with being alone, tortured, and deeply unhappy every waking moment for the rest of eternity, or the length of his soul's viability, whichever came first, and not that he ever thought of any possibility with the red-haired survivor he was mesmerized by, it was a nice thought.
Sometimes.
When he allowed himself to think about it for more than a mere second, which was not often, therefore he kept his feelings locked up for decades, feelings about anything and about anyone, even himself.
But then, for some miraculous reason, he was let go, and with her, the one he never thought he'd ever be able to say one word to, and of course they didn't get along at first, he expected as much.
He infuriated her as much as she got under his skin, but never once did he think she wasn't worth it. She cost him so much, irritated him more than anything, and made him work for some sort of redemption he wasn't even sure he deserved, and along the way they have had so many times for him to confess his feelings.
Feelings he never knew he had until recently, but that was a foolish excuse. He knows he had feelings, even back on their trip to Chimacum. The thought of her in danger, at Kenneth's and Jed's mercy was too much for him to take, and even after that, all he wanted to be was near her, make sure she was okay.
That's why he took that first step and asked to sleep in her bed at the hotel, and he can't say he wasn't surprised when she said yes. He expected a rejection, one that would be completely understandable. Then when he woke that morning to feel her fingers trace lines on his touch-starved skin, he should have confessed right then and there, should have said something, should have kissed her and made her his.
But he's a coward.
Not truly realizing his feelings yet, they moved on, and yet the last few weeks at the estate only served to prove he was too scared…scared of everything.
Scared of losing her.
Scared of admitting his feelings to her and to himself, feelings he never knew were possible, not for him. People like him didn't get to feel the things he felt, and it was selfish of him to think that she could ever reciprocate those feelings.
But the way she would stare at him, or curl into his chest while they were sleeping, or the breathy way she would say his name as they were falling asleep should have told him otherwise.
Maybe…maybe it was possible, and they were both too stubborn, too proud to admit that maybe this person that was once their enemy could mean more to each other than either of them could have ever imagined.
And Evan, he wasn't going to let Meg get away with not knowing how he feels.
He will find her, and he will show her just how much she means to him, even if it's the last thing he does.
Pt. IV
Meg
Please Don't Let Go
Meg can't breathe, can't think. Her lungs crave air that she inhales so rapidly, none of it seems to absorb and in her empty room, she feels like there is not enough oxygen to even begin to survive.
The walls around her are too close together and seem to be moving, crushing her in every direction as her head whips around, seeing nothing that can help.
With every breath, she sees dark spots in her vision and her head swims, feeling too light-headed to even think properly as she runs over to the door Feng just locked behind her.
"Feng!" She screams, her voice cracking with her rapid, frantic breathing. "Feng! Come back! Let me out!"
Meg, always feeling like she can face anything head-on, feels like a caged animal, ready to start beating down the door until it either breaks down or someone comes and lets her out.
She can't be in this room, not alone, not like this. She made a mistake and she just wants to be back at the estate, back with her friends, back with Evan.
"Feng, I swear I will break down this door if you don't come back!" Meg screams, kicking at the door once, twice, then bangs the door again with her fist once her foot shoots radiating pain up her leg.
Fuck.
There is no answer to her calls like some small part in her brain was scared of, but she was hopeful that maybe her friend didn't really betray her.
This has to be some trick, some cruel joke that she didn't know the punchline to, but with the ringing silence that followed her last bang on the door, the stark realization that Feng meant to keep her there was absolutely terrifying.
She grips her hand closed so tight, she feels her fingernails dig into the sensitive skin of her palm as she bangs on the door once more awkwardly with her shoulder, feeling each knock radiate through her bones and down to her core.
Her whole body begins to shake as she takes a step back, losing her breath once more as sharp pain shoots up her legs and back, and suddenly she's on her knees, not knowing when she fell, but all she knows now is that she is on her knees before a door that won't open no matter how much she tries.
Hot tears burn her eyes as she blinks rapidly and wipes her face on her sleeve, not wanting to cry, not yet, as she pushes herself back up on shaky legs.
"Come on Meg, you've been through worse, you can do this…" she mutters to herself through clenched teeth.
Although she doesn't know what is happening or her exact fate confined within these four walls, her mind only goes to the worst case scenario as she braces herself for another attack on the door.
With a deep breath, she digs one heel into the dirt ground as she focuses on the spot on the door that splintered a bit earlier when she kicked it, and although she doesn't know if it will help, she braces herself to ram it with her shoulder; anything to get out.
Without another thought, she runs forward, crushing her shoulder against the door and if she knew any better, she might have said that the door moved a bit, budged even a little, but truth be told, she isn't sure if that would be wishful thinking or if the door stayed just as stationary as before.
One more time, she tells herself. One more ram into the door and it'll open.
Taking a few steps back she stares at the spot on the door she ran into before, and hoping to make an impact, she braces herself as she takes in a deep breath.
Digging into the dirt with all her might, she runs into the door, only to have it swing open before she even reaches it, and instead of the hard wood she expects to make contact with, she makes contact with someone.
Someone who lets out a loud grunt but doesn't budge, just like the door, and for a moment before the realization hits Meg, her mind plays a cruel trick on her by giving her hope.
Hope that it's Evan.
But in the blink of an eye, all hope comes crashing down around her as hands grip her arms, steadying her as they push her back roughly into the room, throwing her down on the ground with a harsh shove.
"Well, doll, didn't think you'd be so eager to get into my arms," Jed Olsen purrs as he locks the door behind him with a quick flash of a key before it's gone into his jacket once more. "Can't say I'm surprised after the company you've kept, but lets have some build-up before the main event shall we?"
Pain shoots up Meg's spine as she looks up at Jed Olsen staring down at her with a crooked smirk surrounded by a five o-clock shadow.
"Hi."
Meg starts to push herself off the ground as best as she can despite her hands still bound, but before she can make any progress, Jed is over to her in a heartbeat, kicking her down with his boot with a rough kick in her stomach, effectively knocking all of the air from Meg's lungs.
He doesn't move, nor does he say anything as he watches Meg on the ground gasping for air that seems to disappear around her. Pure panic overwhelms her and all she can think about is how her lungs feel like they're on fire as she involuntarily continues gasping and coughing.
Jed's legs come into view as he crouches down in front of Meg's face, and with one hand he brushes hair from her face while sighing.
"Didn't think you'd be one for the dramatics, but here we are. I'll give ya a minute to calm down then we can talk," he says, standing back up and walking around the room while slowly pulling small pictures and what looks to be a contact case from a pocket inside his dark jacket. Opening up the case, he begins tacking up the pictures on the wall beside where Meg slowly regains her breathing after the initial shock of his kick.
By the time Jed is done slowly putting up the pictures, Meg's bruised body relaxes just a little at being able to breathe again as she sucks in giant inhales, trying to calm down as best as she can despite the circumstances she now finds herself in.
Pushing herself up with the help of the wall she lay next to, once she's sitting fully up, she exhales slowly.
Maybe this won't be so bad…
Feng did say to listen and maybe he won't hurt her. She will get out of this.
But once she looks at what Jed is pinning to the wall, she feels a whole new wave of nausea overcome her.
Pictures of Jeffrey, the Clown, violating her at the barn house litter the wall and as soon as she realizes, she has to turn away, somehow block out the invasive memory that makes her skin crawl and tears come to her eyes.
She felt so…violated and now…
Jed stares at her from beside the pictures with a smile on his face, a cruel showman as he gestures to the pictures and back at her.
"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."
"Fuck you," Meg says, not sure what else to say in the pause Jed leaves in between his sentences, so she takes it upon herself to let him know how she truly feels in the absence of words.
"Well those aren't lady-like words, now are they?" Jed frowns at Meg as he pushes himself off the wall and crosses his arms across his chest like a child about to throw a tantrum. "But I suppose it's reasonable, you don't understand the true meaning behind these pictures."
"Like Hell I do. I was there to feel him-" the words get lost in her throat as she swallows down bitter feelings of resentment and shame, but Jed only takes her silence as an opportunity to continue.
"You see, you show such emotion in these…it's quite beautiful, if I do say so myself, which I do. Human beings are capable of showing such a wide variety, and these pictures…man they tell a story. And that's what we need…emotion."
Meg wants to block out his words, wants to ignore him, but instead his rambling sinks into her mind as she shakes her head.
"Emotion? What do you need emotion for? But if it's emotion you're looking for, I have plenty of hatred towards you if you'd just untie me. I can show you exactly what emotion I'm feeling," Meg threatens, looking at him with such fury that only makes him smirk in response, and it isn't the response she hopes for.
"Now now, those are some questions for later. But now, I'm curious about you. Curious about what you've been up to since we were sorely torn apart by being let out. So…how many of you got out from the Entity? I am aware of some, but I am curious about a real number."
"What?"
"You heard me, Sweetheart. How many of you and your little friends are there? I suspect I already know, there's no point in lying."
"Well, if you already know then why do you want me to tell you?" Meg asks, gaining some courage at the way Jed takes a step back. He…he looks small to Meg, and less threatening the more he stands at the other side of the room. There is no weapon or disguise in his possession and if she really thought about it, he looks like he could be someone she would pass on the streets without a second glance.
She knows this is wrong, her relaxing in his presence is wrong, but it's the only thing keeping her from going absolutely insane at that moment and giving her courage, so she will run with it.
"You seem to be under the impression that you have any say in what we do here," Jed says, taking a few steps towards Meg so that he's in front of her, too close. "We may not be in the trials where I so loved to see you squirm and scream for me, but I am worried you don't grasp the gravity of the situation you're in, Ms. Meg Thomas."
How does he know her last name?
Meg swallows down her nerves that fire warning signals the closer Jed gets, and she knows she could be making a mistake, but she has to fight, and has to do something in that moment. She doesn't want to give him any information, anything that could lead him to her friends, so she has to try.
Try for her, try for her friends, try for Evan.
She will be okay.
So she leans forward so close to his face, she can see every detail, every imperfection in his pale skin as she hisses, "You don't scare me."
Jed's face flushes red as he swiftly grabs the rope that binds Meg's wrists and yanks her up with unnatural strength. Yes, she would have expected it from the trials but here, now…
He is only a few inches taller than she is, but the fact that he can lift her up with one hand without struggle catches her off guard. She hoped that maybe she could have some advantage, some equal opportunity out here in the real world.
What is happening?
"Let go of me!" She thrashes around, hoping to wiggle out of his grasp somehow, but it only tightens the rope, causing it to tear and burn at her skin the more she struggles.
"I will ask you one more time," he asks, ending his sentence with a heave, giving Meg hope that he could be getting tired. Trying to pull herself free one more time, it proves not even to phase him as he continues. "How many of you got out?"
Meg doesn't answer, refuses to answer as she tries to run, panic rising and burning every single nerve in her body until Jed raises her arms up above her head painfully, too straight and too tall and then it stays.
At first she is confused, how is he holding her up so high? Her feet barely touch the ground even on her toes, and she tries to balance her weight on her toes with the way Jed pulls her arms, her whole body, upward, but she's too high up and can't rely on her feet fully.
Most of her weight is then distributed into her arms as tears immediately burn the corner of her eyes.
She feels like her arms are being torn out of her socket and if she could only balance herself just a bit on her toes…
Her injured shoulder from a few weeks ago screams at her and there's nothing she can do as Jed only chuckles, taking a step back, admiring the picture before him.
How….isn't he holding her up?
Meg's head flies up only to see the rope binding her hands resting on a small hook embedded into the wall. Jed effortlessly dragged her upwards and hooked her arms, bearing all of her weight on her outstretched limbs without so much an extra breath.
It happened so fast…
"What?" Meg hadn't noticed the metal earlier and as she thrashes once, twice, it truly doesn't move, not an inch as her arms already strain painfully above her head and her ankles begin to burn.
"Ah, the hooks come as a surprise to you do they not? I can see it in your eyes, and in your mannerisms."
Meg tries to balance herself into a semi-comfortable position that seems to be more impossible every passing second she hangs there from the wall.
"So you've turned old cabins in the woods into torture chambers?" she asks although it's not quite a question.
Jed pauses as he bends over a bit dramatically towards Meg before pointing a finger at her.
"Me? Oh, oh!" he lets out a laugh, "no. No, these were here before I ever stepped foot into the place. Maybe you should ask that big oaf that follows you around like a lost puppy dog why there are means of torture already in these woods, hm?"
Evan?
No.
"He didn't do anything-"
"And how sure are you of that?" Jed interrupts, straightening back up as he takes a step towards Meg.
"I'm pretty damn sure when there are monsters like you already here out in the woods," Meg grunts as she furiously blinks back tears that already start to drop from her eyes due to the tearing pain in her arms and back.
But that's nothing, not when Jed is in front of her questioning her…she won't cry. She won't give in. Blinking several times, the tears stop even as the pain worsens, but she can handle it. She has handled much worse.
She refuses to give him what he wants as she spits at him, a glob of spit mixed with phlegm lands right on Jed's cheek, but he doesn't flinch.
He simply smirks, taking a step closer to her as he lifts a hand slowly, wiping away her spit as he rubs it between his fingers.
"It's a shame, really, that I didn't get to you first," he begins to say slowly, as he gets so close to Meg, she can feel his breath on her face. He smells like peppermint and dirt…nothing like she'd expect and definitely nothing like last time she was this close to him but it makes her stomach churn regardless as he continues. "I know you've seen me, plenty of times in those woods. Weeks ago even, when you were alone, unprepared."
"What does that matter?" she whispers, her voice giving out on her, not sure where this conversation, where any of this is going. "I've seen you plenty of times within the last ten years too, what does seeing you in the woods make any difference?"
Jed's giant hand flies up to her face as he grasps her cheeks between his fingers, gripping tight as he moves Meg's head painfully from one side to the other.
"Who knows what you would have thought of me back then? Would you be so adamant to defend our precious Evan MacMillan back then? Or would you have been more…compliant?" He asks, and although he is mere inches away from Meg's face, she knows he isn't talking to her. The look in his eyes seems far away, completive, as he stares at her for answers she hopes that he can figure out on his own while she doesn't have to answer.
She wonders if his own delusions are better than him asking her concrete questions, and maybe she can get out of here, get back to Evan, just as easily if she didn't have to listen to him.
And just like a switch was flipped, Jed straightens up and smiles as though coming back to the reality at hand.
"Either way, the past cannot be changed. Time's arrow neither stands still nor reverses. It merely marches forward," he says as he leans against the wall beside Meg, crossing one leg over the other as he stares at her struggling to keep her balance, struggling to keep the searing pain from overwhelming her senses of her muscles being stretching uncomfortably.
"Just get on with it already," Meg huffs as her head snaps towards him. "I doubt you came here to talk about the philosophy of time and what we could or could not do in the past. What do you want now?"
"Well, I believe I did ask you a question earlier. How did you get here? How many of you are there? And how did you find our little…hide-out? I can't say I'm surprised, I knew you'd come crawling to me someday but I just didn't expect it to be so soon."
Meg skin crawls with every word that comes out of Jed's mouth, and the insinuation that she would actually willingly find him one day is enough to make her stomach flip painfully. The only reason she would ever want to find him is to kill him herself, and unfortunately that was not the plan originally, but now…if she ever got the chance…
"I didn't come looking for you," she says, narrowing her eyes at him, "I was following Feng and she led me here. What did you do to her?"
"Feng? Oh, I'm flattered you think I was in charge of that but no, that was Herman's doing. He seemed to take quite a liking to the girl and well, between you and me," he pauses dramatically as he leans forward like he's sharing some secret between friends, "She's not my type. But Herman couldn't stay away, and we were already in the process of trying to gather some of you survivors so it worked out in our favor."
"What?" Meg choked out, trying her best to keep her balance and keep her emotions from flaring up with every word that Jed says, but is clearly failing miserably. "What do you mean gather us? For what? What could we possibly have to offer you after everything?"
"After everything?" Jed smiles and pushes off the wall. "You're quite the inquisitive one. I've thought as much, but as you can see, you're not really in the position to be asking the questions here now are you? And since you seem so keen on not cooperating willingly, how about we have some help to get down to the nitty gritty, shall we?"
Panic rises in Meg's chest as the pain only grows worse and how the look on Jed's face somehow darkens as he stares at her. His lips curl upward and his eyes close just a little as though imagining something beyond anything Meg wants to know before he pulls out a shiny object from his back pocket that only makes Meg's heart sink.
With a flick of his wrist, a shiny blade pops out of the pocket knife almost blinding Meg where she stands, and she can't help but push her back straight against the wall, trying to sink into the wood behind her as Jed begins to toss the knife between his hands and flicking it between his fingers like it was a toy.
"Let's cut this pretense, okay, Sweetheart? You're trying to act tough, I'm trying to scare you, we know what's happening. We see this in every horror movie there is. I know you are scared, and I know you don't have any leg to stand on right now, almost literally," he smiles as his eyes glance down at her toes struggling to support her weight, "And you know that I could be bluffing, I could be just trying to get information out of you without committing to such a dirty way to get it. But, the difference is, I know how you're feeling, but you're acting on suspicion. I was in that realm for a reason, and I would love to go back, so are you really willing to bet your life on such little information I ask for?"
Meg's eyes follow every movement of the knife as he casually twirls it in his fingers, never looking away from her face as though to gauge her reaction. She seems to give him what he wants as he lets out a small laugh and steps closer, bringing the blade up to her face.
"That's better. I missed seeing that fear in your eyes, and I must say that I am a bit disappointed it's only due to having a weapon in my hand. I guess I don't keep you awake at night due to my own presence, huh?" He says, his voice low, almost so low she can barely hear it. "I suppose I should work on that, if we are ever to get back to how we once were."
He brushes the tip of the knife so softly across her cheek, across her temple, and down her jaw as he looks at her face, gauging her reactions that she refuses to give him until he presses just a bit harder and she sucks in a sharp intake of breath at the sensation. The knife doesn't break the skin, not yet, but Jed chuckles, only ramping up Meg's already oversensitive nerves, but he doesn't seem to notice as his eyes roam her face.
"You keep talking about how you need things to go back, where do you want to go back to?" Meg asks, her voice sounding small even to her as she swallows hard.
"Isn't it obvious?" Jed laughs. "We want to go back, back to the Entity. And I believe you survivors are the key, and maybe even MacMillan himself."
"So then why do you think I'd ever give you what you're asking for?"
A smirk appears on Jed's face as his knife trails another stinging line across Meg's jaw as he remains quiet for a moment.
"You see," he starts, "I never thought you'd give information quickly, as this session has proved, but it has been…enlightening to say the least. You're a fighter, I knew as much, but to see you endure so much anticipation for nothing is quite incredible. I know why the Entity took you now…"
"The Entity is a sick and twisted…thing that had no reason to take me or my friends."
"Ah, there's where you're wrong," Jed lets out a loud laugh. "As I see it, we were all taken for a reason, and you…oh you're quite interesting. You fight, you give the Entity plenty of emotions to feed on, and I can admire that, but now…now I'm done playing."
The blade stops right above her right eyebrow, the tip of it feeling like a needle as he keeps it pierced in the same spot for more than a few seconds.
"You and MacMillan, you seem to have quite the bond. Now I can make you look the same, should you not begin to give me what I want. Now, how many of you are there?"
"If you think I'll tell you now-"
Searing white hot pain begins on her forehead above her eyebrow as Jed begins to drag the knife down the sensitive skin causing warm blood to pour down Meg's face, and she winces, closing her eyes shut so tight it's painful.
"MacMillan has the same scar, does he not?" He asks, continuing to drag the knife down her eyebrow despite her trying to yank her face away from the assault and the absolute pain that overtakes her whole body. "Now you two can match."
"Stop…" Meg begins to beg but as soon as she opens her mouth, metallic tasting blood pours past her lips and she feels like she's going to be sick. Spitting out blood, whether it was from the cut Jed makes or from her biting her tongue at the assault, she doesn't know, but she starts screaming as Jed doesn't stop. "Please…stop!"
"Darlin', you're only making this more fun for me the longer you fight," he says like a warning, his breath hitching in his throat as though he were getting off to this pain, and with a soft groan, he presses the knife deeper into her skin, slowly running it down below her eye, slicing her delicate skin open with hot burning pain that immediately makes Meg feel sick.
She starts thrashing against the pain, anything to take her face away from this assault, but she can't move, can't do anything but kick at the ground in front of her and scream, trying to move around and relieve any of the white hot pain that tears through her head with his knife.
He reaches her mid-cheek and finally, with an audible sigh of relief, he stops, taking his knife away and cleaning it on his dark jeans as though it were covered in water, not her dark, red, sticky blood.
The sudden relief from his knife is met with her crying out, wanting to cover her face and wipe away the blood that trickles down her face and onto her shirt. She can't even open her one eye without wanting to scream, so she keeps it locked shut as blood forms a curtain around it. Finally peeling her good eye open, she spits in his direction, feeling like any words are caught in her throat.
"I'll give you a minute to think about if this is truly worth it. You're only making this more fun for me, doll, so you best think what's worth it to you."
What's truly worth it to her?
That really is the question, but as the seconds fade from her torture, she feels she can handle it. She can handle anything as long as it doesn't lead him back to her friends, right?
But he knows where they are already, a small voice in the back of her mind says. What difference would it make for you to confirm what he already knows?
Everything. It would tell him that he won, that he got to her and he was right. If he doesn't know how many of them there are…maybe they have a fighting chance.
A fighting chance against what?
"And so now, are you still feeling brave Meg Thomas? Are you able to look me in the eye and not tell me what I want to know?"
Jed had been slowly inching his way closer to Meg slowly the whole time so now he stands mere inches from her, closer than she even realized until he shoves a knee in between her legs, propping her up just a little and giving her hanging arms some rest in the worst way possible. He puts his free arm on one side of her on the wall as he traces the knife up and down her body slowly, pressing the tip into different fleshy parts of her, her stomach, the place where her neck meets her shoulder, her cheek, before it slides back down, making Meg's breath get caught in her throat.
She wants to run, wants to fight, but that proves just as useless as anything in that moment, and as much as her arms and back scream out in pain as, once again, Jed is too close to her, violating her in ways she never thought possible as she stands there, resting uncomfortably and unwillingly on his knee.
She feels his hot breath on her skin, on her throat, on her ear as he leans forward and it is in that moment that she decides that no matter what happens, she won't give him what he wants. She wasn't lying when she thought she had been through worse, and she can handle this. At least this time, the fight could be worth it, unlike in the trials where she was transported to the same place at the campfire whether she fought or not.
The more she fought, the better chance she escaped, but even that meant little to her when she was stuck in an endless loop of pain and torture.
Here, though, she has a chance, a chance to make a difference, if anything. If keeping information Jed so clearly wants hidden from him will help in some way, that's worth it, right?
"You're easy to read, Meg," he says softly in Meg's ear as he shoves his knee higher causing her to let out a sound in protest before clearing her throat. "You want to fight me, want to keep that pretty little mouth of yours shut but I have ways of making people talk."
Meg takes his opportunity of extra leverage to lift a leg up and kick her knee straight into Jed's groin causing him to double over and take a few steps back while coughing at the sudden attack.
"Ah…so it'll be like that, huh?" he mutters, still bent over as he looks up at Meg who is now back to blinking back burning tears as all of our weight is carried by her hands once again.
"You can ask me questions just as easily without being practically inside me," Meg hisses as she turns her head to wipe still leaking blood onto her sleeve. "But then again, you really aren't any better than Jeffrey Hawk, are you? You're all the same…take what you want, no matter how disgusting-"
A sharp slap from Jed across Meg's cheek takes her by surprise, causing her to stumble on her words giving him just enough time for him to interject.
"I am nothing like that oaf, and I'm hurt that you would think so low of me. After everything, I've been a nice guy, I've let you have your fun, but I must say that I'm quickly becoming less charmed by your attitude. If only you'd be more like…" his voice trails off as he looks back at Meg, his telltale smirk only growing larger like he had a breakthrough of some sort, one that Meg doesn't want to find out.
"You know, I enjoyed my time with your friend…what was her name? Claudette?" Jed starts saying as his knife begins to trace up Meg's side, occasionally snagging on her clothing before continuing it's path. "we had a lot to talk about but see, she wasn't like you, no-"
"Don't you dare talk about her," Meg says through gritted teeth before spitting in Jed's direction, knowing full well he is mentioning Claudette to get under her skin…and it is working.
"Why not? We all know what happened between us, right?"
No, Meg wants to say, but she doesn't. Instead her eyes widen in shock, and unfortunately that's all Jed was looking for as he smiles again and leans his head to the side.
"Oh, she didn't mention me? I'm hurt, after all the fun we had...I thought she'd at least tell someone how I made her scream, beg for her very life before she sold you out."
Meg's stomach drops.
"Guessing by your reaction, she didn't tell you that detail either? Oh, she talked. Granted, that was before she knew you were out, but she told me all about your friends, Nea and David, and how they were staying at the Escape at Eastside hotel. It didn't take much before her mouth became like a faucet, leaking every single thing I wanted to know." Once her and her friends got back to the estate, they never talked about what happened in Chimacum, although they probably should have.
After the breakdown Claudette had in the hotel room and after Kate's health scare, they all seemed to come to a silent agreement that they'd talk about it when they were ready with none of them forcing it, not yet.
Even with Meg, Nea, and David around, the headstrong stubborn ones, they all knew they'd talk when they were ready, and they all thought that was okay. After all, they had gotten used to dying with each other, and going through Hell and back without the comfort of their friends beside them…
Meg swallows hard as she tries to refrain from feeling sick at her realization.
They left Claudette and Kate alone, yes, but was it because they were giving them space, or was it because they moved on already? As Meg thought, they've been through Hell and back, always dying, always being tortured, and none of it seemed to matter much after a while once they were at the campfire.
Had the estate become their new campfire?
A place to rest, to heal, to forget?
Meg never asked Claudette or Kate about their experiences, and maybe she should have…
She definitely should have.
And now it seems too late as Jed sneers at her, the ghost of some memory clear on his face as he mentions Claudette as she found her back in Chimacum, shivering and bloody.
She can only imagine what he did to Claudette, poor sweet innocent Claudette, and it doesn't just make her sick, it makes her furious.
"You see, I can make anyone talk, and you're no different. As much as I enjoyed your friend, your fighting spirit makes this a little difficult, but I never said I hate a challenge." Jed stabs the knife into the wooden wall so close to Meg's head that she can almost feel the sensation deep in her skull as she blinks a few times before looking right into his dark brown eyes as he continues, "So…Megan Faith Thomas, born July 12th, 1985 in Leadville, Colorado to a Gabrielle Thomas who fell ill with various forms of cancer multiple times…do you really think I can't get the information I want?"
Meg is speechless as the expression on her face goes from hard, angry, to disbelief as he begins listing things about her that not even Claudette knew.
If he interrogated her, that's one thing, and yes, he could find out her birthday and that she grew up in Leadville, but she never told them her mom's name…did she?
No, that was a secret she kept within herself, a piece of her mom she thought only she could carry, and not even Claudette could bring that out of her.
"How?" she asks, her voice cracking painfully.
"Are you ready to talk?" Jed asks, ignoring her question with a small nod of his head. "Ah, I know you are, so we will start small, so how many of your little friends are at that damn house?"
Meg's breathing picks up as she glares at Jed, not knowing what to say in this situation as fear, pure and primal fear begins to take over.
She has seen what he did in the trials, and she saw the aftermath of what he did to Claudette, and as much as she thinks she can handle it, she doesn't know what she is in for, and that terrifies her. She prolonged the inevitable by making him talk this long, something that seems to be his specialty, but now he means business.
She should have realized when he dug the knife through her face.
But she can't give in.
She can't…
"If you know where we are staying, you should know," Meg answers as she furiously blinks back fearful tears from her eyes.
He won't see her cry.
"I saw those pictures you took so you should know…"
"Oh, so there's no one else hiding anywhere? Good to know."
Wait…he was asking about anyone else…
Fuck.
How could she be so stupid?
"Now that you have admitted there are only… seven of you, not including our precious Feng, then that makes things easier. See how it feels to help?"
"Fuck you," she hisses, feeling more confident than she should, but she has to do something to protect her friends…anything…
"Despite your oh so hurtful words, I suppose I can move on, get you to like me as we move onto the next question..."
—
The questioning goes on for what feels like hours.
Hours of pain.
Hours of blood.
Hours of questions.
Deep cuts riddle her pale freckled skin, down her face, on her neck, to her shoulders, upper chest, and if she didn't finally give him what he wanted, she's worried he might have gone lower.
She told him about how they've been staying at the estate for about a month now, and the habits of her friends, where they stay, and even down to the layout of the land around the estate, and finally, she feels sick.
Absolutely sick.
How could she have sold them out for so little? When the pain was happening, the sharp white hot searing pain, she felt she could handle it, until it kept cutting, the cuts getting deeper and in more sensitive places, and suddenly her mouth opened.
The words came tumbling from her mouth before she realized what she was saying and suddenly, the pain stopped.
It was a relief as her blood poured from her body but the searing pain of his knife was lifted and all she felt was shame
Shame she couldn't hold out.
Shame she wasn't brave enough.
Shame she couldn't endure…
She spent years being in pain, what was a couple more minutes?
But she talked, and as the questions went on, she couldn't even look at Jed, couldn't look anywhere but the blood soaked floor until Jed started laughing.
"You're doing good here, Sweetheart," he says finally, taking a step closer and running the flat side of his knife down her face. She leans into it instinctively enjoying the cold metal; the one thing that isn't on fire from pain or turned warm from her blood.
She hates how much she is giving him satisfaction by leaning into the one thing that doesn't hurt, but her body betrays her, wanting any sort of relief no matter how much it contradicts her mind.
"One last question, for now anyways. I can't have you passing out on me, not when I'm so excited to have you here," Jed comments as his eyes slowly roam over her body from top to bottom, his eyes pausing on all of the various deep cuts he has made during their time together before he speaks, his voice shaky as though he were distracted by something else entirely.
Meg feels disgusted.
"How do you walk through those woods and get to that damn house? Every time I get close, all I hear are screams, the whispers from her become too loud, I have to turn back. What makes you so special?"
"I don't know what you're talking about," Meg stutters through the tears and blood that continue to stream down her face. "I haven't heard any whispers and even if I did-"
"Has Evan said anything about them? I know he hears them…he has to…" Jed says, taking a step away from Meg and looking away as a quizzical expression takes over and he begins mumbling to himself, walking in small circles around the room.
Meg should listen, and she wants to, but all she can focus on is the relief from the pain and how her whole face and upper body feels like it is on fire being washed away with her own warm blood. As Meg's concentration goes in and out from the pain overwhelming her body to Jed walking around the room, he stops and she freezes.
She doesn't want any more pain, she doesn't know if she can handle it, but she knows she can't tell him what he wants to know.
Anything that could help him in his mission to get back to the Entity, she doesn't want to be a part of it, and she doesn't want to drag anyone else into it, so she has to hold on.
As long as it takes…but…
Everything hurts and she just hopes she can hold out as Jed smirks, his attention fully on her once more.
"He must have said something about whispers, right? I doubt he'd keep anything from his little red-headed survivor," Jed asks, once more brandishing his knife and making Meg's stomach drop at what's to come.
But for once, she feels relieved that she doesn't know the answer, and she doesn't even think twice if it's right or not.
"No, he hasn't. There haven't been any whispers that we or anyone else have heard for that matter," Meg says, her voice strained with fear despite how much she wants it to sound strong, forceful. Even in the situation she's in, she wants to know that she is telling the truth because then there's no way he can force something else from her, no matter how hard he tries.
It is a relief to be able to tell him something, even if it's something he didn't want to hear.
"But, would he really tell you? What are you to him?" He asks, narrowing his eyes at Meg as he takes a step forward while putting one hand to his own face as though really pondering the answer before he continues.
"You and MacMillan are quite an odd pair, if I do say so myself," he comments, his voice barely above a whisper as he takes a step closer to Meg, and although they aren't touching, not yet, Meg thinks she can feel every inch of him pressed against her body, suffocating her against that wall despite the only shared connection in that moment being the cold sting of the pocket knife drawing faint lines across her face, occasionally dragging across her already open, tender wound, making her hiss and flinch away.
But Meg doesn't comment at the mention of them being a pair only makes her feel worse about everything as flashbacks from their previous conversation come to mind.
They are friends, and if anything, it seems like that's only where Evan wants to keep it, and even if they stay at that level, there is no difference in their relationship than there would be with any of her friends, right?
"He is very protective of you-"
"And so are any of my other friends," Meg says quietly through gritted teeth. "There is such a thing called family."
"Nah," he laughs as he shakes his head and his knife at her playfully, "No, you and MacMillan are more than that. I can see it in how he touches you, how he shields you from harm. It is quite the sight if I do say so myself. It's no wonder he would keep the whispers from you. I watched how he carried you out from the house those weeks ago, you resting your head against his chest as he carried you in his arms…it was quite romantic."
"Why do you care?"
"Oh, I don't, but I know he does. He hasn't even begun to tell you what he has experienced…and that rage, that protection, we need that on our side, and as soon as he discovers you're here-"
A deafening crash interrupts Jed's sentence as though on queue as his smirk returns and for a moment, he doesn't do anything as thought savoring the moment they are in despite the mysterious noise.
Meg only hopes it distracts Jed, gets him out of there so she can be alone and plan something, anything to get out of here, but then Jed reaches up slowly and grabs a fistful of hair bringing it to his own nose and breathing in deeply.
"You're scared, despite how much you try to keep it concealed. I know you're in pain, and you're scared of the unknown. You don't have to hide it from me, Meg Thomas. Here we can show our true selves if you only let go…"
Another loud crash.
"For fucks' sake!" Jed yells stabbing his knife into the wood wall right beside Meg's head as he lets go of her hair and spins around. "What could possibly be going on up there? I swear if it's Herman and Feng breaking furniture…" he turns to Meg and tilts his head in an apologetic gesture "If you'll excuse this rude interruption, I'll be right back to continue this lovely conversation we were having. Try not to miss me too much!"
Jed finishes his sentence by grabbing his knife from the wall and quickly leaving the room, not locking it behind him in a mocking gesture of freedom that makes Meg let out an involuntary sound of desperation at. By now her muscles and bones are absolutely screaming at being hung for more time than she thought she could handle, and now it will only seem to be prolonged at whatever noise that was.
A part of her hopes it is something to do with Evan, with her friends, but that seems unlikely, especially since no one knew she was gone, and her heart sinks.
Who knows how long it'll take for anyone to come find her, especially after Evan told her that she could leave, and when he wakes up…
No…
Evan please…
She begins hyperventilating at the possibility of Evan giving up on her, and not coming to find her. He was there for her in Chimacum, yes, but that was before…everything that has happened between them, and when she practically poured out her heart he told her she could leave.
She never wanted to leave him, not permanently, but what if he takes her absence as a sign that she left? What if he thinks she listened to his absurd notions of what she deserved and she left…
Please let that noise be something kind…something to help…
And just as she hopes for some familiar friendly face to enter the room, she feels a tingle run from her toes that touch the ground up through her body, through every nerve and every cell as the door opens once more and for a moment she expects Evan but instead her heart sinks. Instead of the warm welcome of Evan, she is greeted by Herman who stands just at tall, just as big as Evan in the small doorway, physically and mentally blocking any sort of escape from the small room.
"You…" she croaks out, her voice betraying any sort of bravery she could conjure in her time of vulnerability.
"Yes, me," Herman responds, almost sounding bored already with being in the room around her. "This isn't quite how I imagined our second, shall I say, official meeting going?"
Meg's breathing picks up as she stares at Herman with any sort of anger she can conjure in that moment with one eye feeling sealed shut with her drying blood, still struggling to remain upright, and her face distorted in pain despite her best attempts to hide it.
"You don't look too comfortable hanging from there…here," Herman starts to say as he takes a step forward, but something breaks in Meg once he gets to the middle of the room.
"Get away from me!" She yells despite knowing she isn't the one who should be yelling, but she doesn't want him or anyone near her, no matter what their intentions are. "Don't take a step closer."
"Well, you hardly seem to be in a position to argue. I was merely going to let you down, give you some reprieve to Jed's unbecoming standards on getting things done."
Meg breathes rapidly, her nose flared like a bull ready to attack but Herman simply ignores her warnings as he walks over and unhooks her arms, lifting her up like she weighed nothing, before setting her down on the ground with a look of triumph plastered on his face.
When Meg's feet fully touch the ground, she lets out an involuntary sigh of relief now that her arms fall in front of her and don't feel like they are being stretched from their sockets.
"Better?" Herman asks as he flashes her a white smile, and if Meg didn't know any better, his smile and calm demeanor alone could be enough to relax her, but she knows better than anyone not to trust whatever front he puts on.
So she says nothing as she backs into the wall, remembering Feng's words from earlier.
"Just listen to Herman."
She doesn't want to, but as her eyes flick to the locked door behind him, and around the small empty room, it doesn't seem like she has much of a choice.
"What do you want? Come to finish what Jed started? What was that bang that made Jed leave" Meg asks before she spits out blood that falls its way into her mouth.
Herman makes a point to look down at the spot where Meg spat then back up at her before tilting his head as if to say 'you poor thing'.
Meg would punch that look from his face if she could.
"Feng knocked over a chair. Something must have surprised her, I assume. But disregarding that, I take it that Jed," Herman pauses as his eyes look from Meg's bound hands to the deep cut down her face before continuing, "took to some…more grotesque methods in his questioning. What did he ask?"
So no one is coming. The noise wasn't something to help. Meg pushes that thought deep down trying not to succumb to overwhelming disappointment and fear as she stares at Herman.
"He asked things he had no business knowing," she swallows what saliva is left in her dry mouth as she speaks, her mouth feeling like sandpaper as she answers Herman.
He lets out a small laugh and nods. "Did he tell you why he was asking these things?"
"He mentioned wanting to go back, but I don't understand why he'd need to know anything about what he asked," Meg mutters in response.
"Well, Megan, we believe we know a way back to the Entity, as it is still connected to us all, even now."
The mere mention of going back to the Entity's realm makes Meg's blood turn cold and her stomach drop.
"What do you mean?" She manages to ask, not sure if she wants to know the answer as Herman takes a step closer to her.
"Here, I can show you," he gestures to Meg. "If you'd be so kind as to sit, this may be…quite the shock."
"I'm not moving," she says, huddling closer into the wall in an effort to show that she isn't going to move, not unless she is forced to.
"Fair enough, but don't say I didn't warn you."
In two large steps Herman is in front of her, grabbing each side of her head with his massive hands and suddenly pain encompasses Meg.
Acid through her veins, electricity shocking her nerves, needles stabbing every inch of her, her eyes are on fire and her organs have turned to stone, oh god the agony her skin is being torn off…nonsensical screams in the distance - no - her screams, make it stop, please, she is going to die, she can't handle it so much worse than ever before and then…
Relief. Shaking.
Her body hurts with how much she is shaking.
Herman takes a step back, letting Meg fall to the floor in a shaking, screaming, panting heap.
Her face is wet. Wet with what? She doesn't know, blood, tears, probably both as her lungs squeeze tight and her stomach spasms making her heave over causing vomit to splash against the cold floor.
Once she is done getting sick, she collapses, breathing heavily, her mind and body still reeling from whatever happened to her.
Is she still even alive?
"That is why I asked if you wanted to sit. It is easier to recover from if you're already on the floor, I have discovered."
Meg's chest heaves, barely getting enough oxygen as she looks up at Herman, staring down at her. "What…" her body convulses into coughs, shooting pains through her body before she can even finish her sentence.
Her tongue feels too big for her mouth and all she tastes is metallic blood; she must have bitten it at some point as she swallows painfully.
Herman doesn't wait for her question as he talks, reminding her too much of Jed and of Jeffrey; killers that just love to hear themselves talk.
"As I said before, we believe the Entity still has control over certain things out here, and that we can get back. I am able to do, well, what I just did, which as we both know is not a normal human capability. We want to get back to that place, Megan, and we are simply trying our best to hurry up that process."
"But what does that have to do with me? With us? If you want to go back…" Meg whispers, her voice hoarse and painful but with a deep breath, she continues, "Why do you need us? Let us live our lives and you go back…."
"Ah, if only it were that easy. You see, as much as many of us aren't thrilled about the idea, we believe that we are all connected in ways we do not know. We were all there, together, for so long, and the Entity chose us for a reason-"
'There's no reason to that monster' Meg wants to say but instead as soon as she opens her mouth, she begins coughing, a loud wet gagging cough and with a small whimper she closes her eyes, trying not to be overcome with the way her whole body aches.
Like a polite gentleman, Herman waits until she is done before offering her a clean white handkerchief from his pocket that Meg only glares at before flicking her eyes to meet his as she spits a red-tinged glob of spit on it.
Like hell would she accept any help or offering of peace from him now.
His mouth curls into a sneer as he looks down at the handkerchief, folds it back up and stuffs it into his pocket.
"As I was saying," he continues without missing a beat, "we were all chosen for reasons we have yet to understand, and the signs have been there all along. If we go back, we can all do things differently, understand the bigger picture that we have the opportunity to be a part of." Herman pauses as he clears his throat and kneels so he is beside Meg. "It's incredible, really, to know there are otherworldly beings out there that we were in contact with. Life here doesn't seem the same knowing what we know, does it not?"
Meg listens, not quite knowing what else to do as she concentrates on her aching body and trying to gain enough strength to push herself up, but when Herman begins making a little bit of sense, Meg closes her eyes, wanting to tune him out.
She can't listen to him, can't let him convince her like he has convinced Feng. They're all insane, and if she can go live a peaceful life without pain, without torture, without fear, that's all she wants.
"I will never go back to that place," Meg whispers, her voice hoarse. "Nothing will ever convince me to go back and the fact that you want to is…"
"Everything. You simply do not understand, and that is okay. We can help. I can help."
While he remains kneeling, he reaches out and cups Meg's face before she can pull away and suddenly agony.
White hot flames lick her body, razors scrape at her nerves and bones, drills pierce her skin and then she is sucked into darkness. Voices. Memories. All alien. All familiar.
From another time.
Another place.
"Mommy, where's Daddy?"
"He…he went away, sweetie."
"When will he be back?"
"I don't know, sweetheart."
"Is it my fault? I mentioned the monster again."
"Meg, no, none of this is your fault. I will always be here and the monster won't get you."
"But what about the whispers?"
"The whispers?"
The pain lifts for a brief moment, enough to make Meg cry out with relief as her body shivers violently on the damp ground. But as she gulps down air like she was drowning, Herman begins again.
Agony oh god she can't handle it nothing has ever been this bad. It HURTS and there's nothing she can do make it stop oh god
"I don't know what to tell you, Mark. She's a creative kid. She tells stories, she thinks there's a monster under her bed and in her closet…well let me tell you so does every other toddler out there!"
Is Mommy talking to Daddy? I hope he comes home soon. It's been three weeks and I miss him. I'm glad the monster woke me up so I can hear what they're talking about. Maybe I can say hi.
"What? Don't tell me that you're feeding into her nonsense. She's a child. She'll grow out of it."
Nonsense?
"Oh so what? You've been hearing things too? Oh for fucks sake, get help. You know that's not normal, and you telling our daughter to listen to the whispers isn't helping. Maybe it's best you stay away, for all of our sakes."
No, don't tell him to stay away.
"Goodbye, Mark."
Air rips into Meg's lungs in huge gasping breaths as she frantically looks around the room she's in.
The indescribable agony that Herman inflicted is gone as she is left shaking and shaking - fuck everything hurts from the shaking. But…
What were those voices? Those memories? So fleeting she scrambles to grasp at them in the darkness of her own mind.
"What did you see?" Herman asks, still kneeling beside her as he lifts her into a sitting position.
"I…" Meg can hardly speak as her throat closes in on itself.
"Memories, long forgotten I assume," Herman answers with a smug look on his face. "The pain, it helps unlock certain aspects of our past that we haven't thought about in a long time, if ever. Do you see now? We were chosen-"
"Herman!" Feng's voice yells from outside the room, effectively stopping Herman's excited lecture. "Herman, we have to go! Now!"
"Wha-" Herman begins to say only to be interrupted by Feng appearing in the doorway, waving her arm frantically behind her as she speaks again, not even bothering to look at Meg.
"Evan is here and we aren't ready! Herman, come on!"
Meg barely registers what Feng says as Herman lets her go and she falls back to the floor like a rag doll, her muscles and mind feeling like jelly not allowing her to move as her world fades in and out around her. Her eyes finally lock onto Feng as feelings of betrayal sting at her chest with the way Feng's eyes only flick down to her then back to Herman almost like she wasn't even there.
She didn't matter.
Not anymore.
Herman stares back at Feng for a moment before pulling her out of the room, leaving Meg alone, tears burning her eyes when she realizes she recognized that look that was shared between Herman and Feng; that was often how her and Evan would look at each other.
Then it hits her harder than anything else that has happened today, the harsh reality that Feng is gone.
Her vision blurs as she rolls onto her back, every muscle, every nerve, every cell feeling like it is on fire as the occasional twinge of pain jolts through her body, still trying to recover from whatever Herman did to her.
Maybe if she just closes her eyes, it'll go away. She'll wake up and the pain will be gone.
Please just make the pain go away.
"Where is she?!"
Evan?
"Meg!"
"Ev-'' Meg tries to call out but her voice is so small and her throat burns like her vocal cords were fried from the inside. "Evan!" She croaks, her voice barely above a whisper as she rolls onto her stomach, trying to push herself up and failing, desperately trying to get to her one reprieve.
"Tell me where she is or I swear-"
"You'll do what? You'll kill me?" The callousness that drips from Jed's voice from the other room makes Meg's heart stop. Jed is back, but Evan is here. That's what matters.
Pt. V
Evan
I'm So Sorry
Evan stands in front of the cabin, memories and ghosts from his past freeze him to the spot as he stares at the dark door. He helped build this one, even helped furnish it with some necessities that he bought from town like a table, some chairs, anything to help his father's workers.
But he can't think of that now, so shaking his head in an attempt to physically think of something else, he takes in a deep breath and pushes into the cabin, slamming the door into the wall as he marches inside, not caring about announcing his own presence or not.
Then he hears a scream.
Meg's scream.
A wave of shame crashes into him knowing what she sounds like absolutely terrified and in pain since he was the cause of that not too long ago, but now he can help her, protect her from feeling like that, but when he hears her cry out again, it breaks his own heart in two.
"Meg!" he shouts, not knowing where the sound is coming from but all he knows is that the sound is close.
He concentrates on where the noise could have come from, anywhere in the house, but as soon as the door opens, he is greeted by blaring deafness until he hears small footsteps come from the kitchen to his right.
Meg?
No.
It can't be.
Evan refuses to get his hopes up that it would be that easy as he takes a step towards the kitchen only to be greeted by Feng, Meg's friend that she suspected the whole time to be doing something out of the ordinary.
He should have listened.
Immediately she throws her hands in front of her and takes a step back, her high pitch voice wavering with every word.
"Look, we don't want to stop you," Feng starts talking, "Just let us leave, you get Meg, listen to her. Once you talk, we are sure you'll come find us."
"Who all is here?"
"Me, Herman, and Jed. Herman is with Meg right now. Let me get him and we will go."
Evan doesn't have the chance to reply before Jed's voice interrupts them, cutting through the tension like a knife.
"Well well well, isn't this a surprise. Didn't think we'd have so many visitors all in one night!"
Feng takes this opportunity not to wait for Evan's reply as she bolts out of the room, ducking under Evan so he couldn't grab her in his distraction with Jed, but that doesn't matter, not then anyway.
In fact, he doesn't know what he feels at that moment.
At first thought he could say he was filled with rage, but even the sound of that falls flat in his mind as his whole body shakes with pure unadulterated inhuman fury as he stares at the slimy worm that is Jed Olsen that stands before him.
He felt anger before, rage even, at his father, at the Entity, at himself, but every single time it was due to the actions that were done to him…
And now someone he cares about more than anything in the universe was harmed because of the man that infront of him, and for that, he will make him pay.
"Well hey there. Long time no-"
Crunch.
Before Jed can finish his sentence, Evan marches forward and punches him square in the jaw with all of his might, putting all of his emotions into the one punch causing the smaller man to go stumbling backwards as his own hand flies to his face.
The room is silent a few beats as the two men take in deep breaths in sync before Jed spits a glob of blood from his mouth and lets out a small laugh.
"I suppose I deserve that, but is that really how you want to greet an old friend? I can't say I'm surprised. You have always been an emotional one."
"Where is she?" Evan spits as he glares daggers at Jed. He doesn't take another step forward, not yet, waiting to see if Jed will actually cooperate or if he'll have to force the answer out of him.
Either way is fine with Evan, as he has wanted to pummel Jed far longer than just being out of the Entity's grasp. This…this goes back years, and Evan hardly needs a reason to lay another brutal hit on Jed.
If it were anyone else in danger, anyone but Meg, maybe Evan would hope Jed would prolong this encounter just so he'd have more of an excuse to beat him into a disgusting pulp, but Meg is in danger, and despite Evan's wants, she is his number one priority.
He has told her as much so many times, he can't go back on that now.
"Where is who?"
Evan can't help himself as he draws back his fist so fast, he punches Jed again on his cheek that sends him flying into a cloth covered table behind him. The table moves across the floor letting out a loud scraping noise that echoes through the dusty house.
"You know damn well who I am talking about and I know she's here. If you won't tell me where she is, I'll kill you myself then go look for her."
"Well well well, aren't we Mr. Testosterone right now? I'm sad you wouldn't want to catch up. I've been a busy little bee since you've last seen me, and I'm just as eager to hear about what you've been doing since the last time we talked."
"I will ask you one more time, where is she?" Evan demands, clenching his fist so tight, he loses feeling in his fingers as he glares at the smaller man in front of him. "Meg!" He yells while staring at Jed, hoping that even if he hears her voice, knows she's there and she's okay, but he is met with dark silence as Jed only chuckles. Evan clenches his teeth and takes a closer step towards Jed, "Tell me where she is or I swear-"
"You'll do what? You'll kill me?" Jed asks as he leans against the dust covered table and holds up his hand to inspect his nails as though the two punches to his face were of no concern to him. "You've threatened as much already, so why don't you do it? Kill me right now and I can almost guarantee you'll never see Meg again, and that's what this is all about, isn't it? This brute act, trying to be a hero." Jed takes a break from picking at dark debris from underneath his nails to look at Evan, a playful smirk dancing across his face.
Evan doesn't hold back.
Within the blink of an eye, he is in front of Jed, letting out everything he has ever felt into a solid punch in Jed's stomach, and when Jed doubles over and desperately gasps for air that his own lungs refuse to take in, it ignites something in Evan.
Something good.
Something he missed.
So he keeps going.
Jed doesn't fight back, not much, not that he would even have the chance to due to Evan's sheer size advantage and how with every punch and with every kick his own energy and need to kill this man drives him to keep going without any pause.
With all of his might, Evan jams his elbow into Jed's back, causing him to collapse on the floor with a heavy thud.
The small cry that escapes Jed is like music to his ears, longing to do this for ages now, and as he takes the opportunity, he sinks his foot into Jed's side with a harsh kick.
Once.
Twice.
Then he kicks Jed so he is on his back so it's easier for Evan to straddle him as he kneels down, continuing to punch Jed's face, feeling his bones crack beneath his knuckles, and soon he notices his hands become wet with warm sticky blood.
He should stop, he knows this, but the more he lets out his anger, the more he can't stop, and doesn't want to stop with each punch feeling like a jolt of electricity through his veins, encouraging him to continue.
But then Jed speaks up, making Evan hesitate just slightly.
"Do you honestly think-" crunch. Evan doesn't want to hear it. "that this wasn't the plan? You-" another punch, another crack, and Jed's voice wavers as he continues, "-you and your special lady are doing everything we want."
No. That's not true, it can't be, and he's just trying to get under his skin. That's it. So he keeps going, losing all sense of reality around him, and soon the only thing he can concentrate on is the painful throbbing coming from his knuckles every time he lands another punch, and the satisfying crack of skin on skin contact.
Jed's face breaks and bleeds more until Evan can hardly recognize the man under him, but he keeps going, and hopefully this will be the end.
It has to be.
Soon the world falls away and to Evan, the only thing he knows in the universe is him and Jed, two souls connected in such an intimately disturbing way, his mind goes blank.
That is until a blood-curdling primal scream finally snaps him out of the trance he fell into landing punches on Jed, and as he blinks, his surroundings slowly come back around him, and he isn't sure if he heard the scream or if it was his imagination because now the house is so unnervingly quiet, the only sounds Evan hears are the sounds of his breathing and Jed's blood slowly dripping onto the floor from his bloody and broken face.
"You know, that's cute," Jed lets out a wet cough as a line of blood trickles out of the corner of his mouth when he notices Evan take a break in his assault before continuing slowly, "that you still haven't grasped the gravity of what we are trying to do. I know you hear her, the Entity."
"I…" Evan's chest heaves with fast shallow breaths as he realizes what Jed is talking about. Those small whispers he thinks he hears some days but has assumed to be fleeting memories coming back to haunt him, as many do. They can't be the Entity…there's no way…
"Those whispers never quite went away, did they? It's only a matter of time before we all go back," Jed laughs as Evan forcefully throws his head back into the ground with a sickening thud, not answering Jed's question as he stands up towering over the bleeding man on the ground.
Within the hesitation, Jed pulls himself so he's sitting against the dark wall, his telltale smirk never leaving his swollen face as he looks up at Evan. "So you're just gonna leave me here to die just like you did Jeffrey? Or are you going to make sure I'm really dead this time?"
"He was dead," Evan growls, his mind going back to that night. He was dead, right? Everything happened so fast and Meg…she was hurt, they needed to leave.
"And how sure of that are you?" Jed asks before letting out another wet cough.
Evan doesn't have time for this. He needs to find Meg, now.
"I don't need to waste my time on this," Evan spits, looking down the hallway leading to the various rooms where Feng and Herman emerged from before.
"I wouldn't have expected any less from you. You're a coward, Evan MacMillan."
He needs to get to her, he thinks, and hopefully Jed would simply bleed out here and die. That's what he can hope for at least, but he needs to find Meg, make sure she's okay. Then he will come back for Jed, finish what he started.
With one last look back at Jed, Evan doesn't see the smaller man sitting there, he sees his own father, bloody and broken from when he committed the same assault after he killed all of his workers, his friends.
"So you're going to leave me here? Prove that you're just as much of a monster as I am?"
Evan's blood turns cold, remembering one of the last sentences his father spoke to him, and when he blinks, his father is gone and all that is left is Jed smirking back at him.
"You look like you've seen a ghost," Jed coughs out quietly before leaning his head back and letting out a long sigh. "She's in the other room, last one to the left behind the bookcase. You should get there quick though, your precious Meg wasn't in too good of a condition when I left her, and who knows what Herman could have done while you've been here dealing with me."
Evan doesn't hesitate as he rushes into the last room and he sees faint light leak out into the dark room.
Meg!
He just hopes he isn't too late, too late to save her, too late to make up for everything.
Please just let her be okay.
Pt. VI
Meg
I Forgive You
Cold. So cold.
After Herman's white hot torturous shock, she is left shivering, feeling the cold seep into her bones, into her core and for a moment, she feels like she will never be warm again.
So she looks up at the one ounce of dull warmth in the room, and as she stares at the swinging lantern above her, her eyes can hardly concentrate on anything except the sounds of fighting; fists coming in contact with flesh, grunts, and cries of pain, sounds she knows more about than anything.
Herman and Feng left, leaving the door wide open and she can hear Evan outside of the room and every now and then she can hear the faint sound of blood splatter on the ground, along the wall, blood being spilt where it shouldn't be, but the way her own body pulses and radiates with unimaginable pain, she can't even begin to think where other blood can go.
She focuses on her own breathing, her own thoughts, and how rough and cool the dirt feels beneath her hands, like an ice pack, the only thing tethering her to reality as she stares up at the light above her.
"Do you honestly think-" another sickening crack and a quiet chuckle follow while Meg takes in a deep breath as Jed continues, his voice muffled coming from the other room, "that this wasn't the plan? You-" another punch, Jed's voice weakens as he continues through whatever berating he is getting, "-you and your special lady are doing everything we want."
Meg blinks, and with each movement, it gets harder to open her eyes back up to focus on the swinging light. But she can't give up, not right now as Evan is in the other room.
Evan is here.
Grunts of pain begin to lessen as the punches grow fewer and far between the grunts coming from both men involved as Meg's vision begins to darken. She occasionally hears them talk but she can't make out the words, not like it would matter anyway. So she takes in a sharp breath and her chest grips.
She can't even breathe properly as she looks up, but she doesn't panic, not like she should.
Something doesn't feel right.
Is she dying?
Is this how it's supposed to feel?
Thinking back, she has died. A lot. Too many times to even begin to count and yet it never felt like this.
She had been impaled by meat hooks, stabbed with cleavers and knives, beaten with inhuman claws and eaten alive by creatures she only dreamt of in her nightmares, and yet now as she looks up at the swinging light above her, she feels like she is being carried out to sea, slowly drifting away comforted by an invisible rocking of her body, her mind.
In those times she died within the Entity's realm, it was over in mere seconds. One moment she was breathing, maybe bleeding out and in pain, but the next, after a moment of extreme indescribable pain, it was over.
She woke again at the campfire, healed with only her memories and lingering phantom pains to remind her of what happened.
"Meg!"
She hears Evan's voice but it doesn't sound quite like him. It is far away, echoing within her fleeting mind as she fights to open her eyes with every blink. She is warm now despite being so petrifyingly frozen mere minutes ago.
"Meg stay with me."
She opens her eyes and she sees The Trapper - no - Evan.
Evan is standing above her - no - he's kneeling beside her.
Why is he so far away?
She doesn't feel his fingers grasp her hand but she sees him bring her hand to his face, his lips, as his other arm scoops under her neck.
"I'm getting you out of here."
I don't want to move, she wants to say, but it isn't worth it, not when she's so warm and tired.
But she's not just tired, she's exhausted.
Exhausted from hanging on, from fighting, from everything, and she thinks about how nice it would be to just take a nap right here.
Evan is here now and she's safe.
"Meg, open your eyes!"
She closes her eyes.
"Don't you give up on me."
She will close her eyes for just a moment while they walk because she knows she is safe while Evan is here.
Evan will protect her. He always does.
"Goddammit, Meg Thomas, you can't leave me! You better not give up on me. I'm here. I have you. I'll protect you."
Her name coming from his mouth is like honey to her senses as she leans her head against his broad chest, lulled into a merciful darkness as the world falls around her.
—-
"And when He had opened the fourth seal, I heard the voice of the fourth beast say, 'Come and see.' And I looked, and behold a pale horse; and his name that sat on him was Death, and Hell followed with him." - Revelation 6:7-8
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