Breath of Life

by handathepanda

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

17. All We Have

4:36 AM

Day 1

Evan

The Whole World's Ending

---

He can't lose her. That's the only thought that seems to scream in his frenzied mind. Never in his life has he felt like this: worried, panicked, and overall, absolutely terrified.

Before the Entity, he would say he came close to this feeling due to being weary of his father, even bordering on fearful, but it was only because he was scared of what his father would do to him, not that he would ever lose him.

He would think about how his father would beat him, make him feel like he meant nothing, leaving both physical and emotional scars deep within Evan's core, but this…

This is so much different.

If something happened to Meg, it would leave a scar deeper than anything within him, and he doesn't even know what he would do after that, so his mind defaults to denial.

Denial that Meg curls against his chest, completely limp in his arms. Denial that he knows her breathing has slowed down since he picked her up from that dirty, bloody floor. Denial that she makes no sounds no matter how much he calls her name.

She is okay; she will be okay.

She has to be because he will never recover from this if something happens to her, he knows it.

Emerging from the dank room she was kept in, he still sees Jed hunched over in the same spot he left him, but once Evan's heavy footsteps get closer, Jed lifts his head slowly.

His left eye is completely swollen shut, and by this time, faint blue light begins to stream in through the window, illuminating Jed like a spotlight. His right eye falls on the two of them, and he lets out a breathy laugh before looking back at the ground.

"She alive?" he mutters, his voice wet and soft.

Torn between his own anger, Evan wants to answer Jed, doesn't want to let him live but instinctively his grip on Meg tightens, and when her breathing hitches, he knows what he needs to do.

The paleness in Jed's face reflects in the morning light just as bright as his dark blood pooling around him. He will die, Evan convinces himself, but Meg can't.

So without another word he turns and marches out of the cabin, ignoring the guttural coughs that follow in his wake from Jed, and as soon as the crisp forest air hits his lungs, he takes off.

His feet pound into the ground and soon the sounds around him muffle and dull, and all he concentrates on is Meg.

He feels her chest move with her breathing, much more slowly than before, but she's still breathing, and that's what matters. As long as she's breathing, she'll be okay.

All he needs to do is get her back to the estate, back home, and her friends can help. He will fix this.

Charging through the woods, leaves and branches whip at Evan's face and arms creating small cuts that begin to bubble with blood as he runs but he can't slow down and look for a better path. Every thought in his mind is focused on her.

He promised her once that he would die for her, and if she dies in his arms…

No.

He can't even begin to think of that very real possibility.

What did they do to her?

The woods around him begin to thin around a small path, a beacon of hope, as he pushes on harder than he's ever ran, and like someone punched all the air from his chest, he sees the house through the trees.

Her friends will know what to do, right?

They've all patched up wounds before so this…this shouldn't be any different, he hopes.

Gripping Meg tighter to him, he feels her chest gently move up and down, still breathing, as he breaks into the clearing, feet pounding into the dirt propelling him forward.

He just hopes that her friends are there and they didn't all leave to go look for her. They were all going to go, and yet he couldn't just wait for them.

Wanting to berate himself for being so impulsive, relief floods through him when he sees Claudette's face peek through the curtains in the living room, and, in just a few moments, the front door swings open. Her eyes dart between Evan and Meg, wide with surprise, as Evan bounds up the porch steps.

"You found her! Meg! How is she?" Her eyes then lock onto Meg and when Meg makes no sign that she hears her friend, Claudette freezes, and her voice comes out barely a whisper as she continues, "She's alive, right?"

"Yes," Evan blurts out as he pushes past Claudette through the doorframe to just get Meg inside. As he enters the house, he notices Claudette has made a fire so he goes straight into the living room wanting to lay Meg down somewhere warm.

She's so cold in his arms but as they enter the warm room, her whole body begins shivering and he can't say he is disappointed.

She's shivering.

She's alive.

"What happened?!" Claudette asks as she runs behind Evan into the sitting room. He lays her down gently on the rug in front of the fire, taking a moment to really look at her as time seems to stand still, and Claudette's voice gets further away from his mind.

"Dwight, Ace, get in here and help me! We need the first-aid kit!"

She's yelling for help from others that, thankfully, stayed behind, but in that moment it is just Meg and Evan, and he clears his throat to keep from yelling out the intense emotions that rage inside him.

Blood that once was flowing from her cuts when he saw her has started to slow down, but not slow enough for Evan's concern to be completely washed away, and her chest now rises and falls rapidly with her shivering on the floor.

Good signs, he thinks, or at least he hopes.

He grabs her hand and squeezes, holding on for dear life, as a wave of anger hits him like a punch in the throat, and he slams his other fist into the wooden floor so hard, it splinters below his already bruised and bloody knuckles.

"Where is a damn med-kit?" He yells, his voice booming through the house. His voice cracks with worry, and he has to try to restrain himself from tearing through every cabinet and drawer himself because they are taking too long.

He barely registers Dwight coming back as he reaches out with shaky hands, handing the med-kit to Claudette who is now kneeling beside Evan.

"Evan, I know you're worried," she begins saying, flicking open the old med-kit and setting its contents on the floor. Her voice is steady, strong, and so different from how Evan feels inside, so he doesn't say anything as she continues. "But I need you to move, just a little bit, so I can reach her wounds, okay?"

Staring down at Meg, Evan isn't sure he can move, or if he's frozen to the floor as he squeezes her hand tighter than anything he has ever tried to hold onto.

"Evan," Claudette says one more time as she rests a hand on his upper arm, gently pushing him to the side, and, unconsciously, he moves. Maybe her words finally got to him, he doesn't know, but he feels useless as Claudette begins unraveling bandages next to him, and he wishes he could do something, anything, but he can't even get himself to stand up. At that moment, all he can think about is her.

Nothing else matters but Meg, and all he knows is that he would give anything for her to be okay.

---

5:06 AM

Day 1

Meg

Honey, It Already Did

'Get me a basin with warm water and soap.'

'Someone go get the suturing kit. We need to close these wounds.'

'She's still bleeding. Oh god, she's bleeding so much.'

'Dwight, shut up and go get the suturing kit!'

Falling.

Suspended in the air yet plummeting towards an endless abyss.

Falling through time.

Falling through space.

Falling through memories Meg has long forgotten and yet, occasionally the voices of her friends break through her distant mind.

'Meg?'

'Her pinky moved! It moved!'

'Meg?! Can you hear me?'

Her eyes are closed and her mind detaches itself from the outside world, and yet she feels she can see everything much more clearer than before.

Life, love, loss, and death.

Experiences she has faced that no one should ever have to go through in one lifetime and yet, she is still here.

Survival, what was such a tenuous thing to grasp onto has now become something so distant in her mind and every time she reaches out, tries to grab for anything to help her, survival floats just out of reach until the darkness around her transforms slowly. At once, she is on the ground, in her old kitchen but everything is so dark, so fuzzy, but she manages to hear someone - no - two people. They're talking, arguing about something.

It takes a few moments straining her ears trying to make out any words, any sort of sound, but slowly, her mother's voice breaks through the fog around her.

'Meg, you should at least enroll in community college or something. There are so many around, and it'll give you a nice distraction throughout the day."

No…

"What do you mean?"

She hears her own voice answer her mom despite her not opening her mouth.

This memory…no she can't think about this.

She closes her eyes and tries to think of something else, anything else.

Anything but this.

Meg doesn't want to hear this, doesn't want to remember it.

She managed to block it from her mind long ago, lock it tight where she would never have to think about it again, but despite her squeezing her eyes shut, the voices continue.

" I'm just saying that maybe getting out there will do some good for you. Working three jobs isn't healthy, not for you. There is so much time here being wasted. Years, Meg, years you won't get back."

As tears begin to flow from Meg's eyes, she curls her hands into fists and immediately wipes her eyes, desperately trying to get out of this memory.

Why is she here?

Out of everything, why this memory?

"So what? Taking care of you has been a waste? That's what you're saying?" Her past self says, and just now Meg can hear how much venom there was in that sentence. There was so much anger, anger that didn't need to be directed at her mom at that moment.

"No, sweetie, that wasn't what I meant."

All she did was try to protect Meg.

"Are you sure? Because if I'm such a waste, I'm sorry that all I've tried to do is take care of you."

"But I never asked you to-"

"You didn't have to! You're my mother! My only family and I…I don't know what to do if I lost you."

There is a long silence. Meg and her mom fought often during those last few months. Working and taking care of her mom started to take a toll on her energy, and she loved her mom, would do anything for her, but the responsibility made Meg blow up at the littlest things.

She hears her mom sigh.

"You'll live a long and happy life. Make friends, meet a nice man, or woman. See the world. You have so many possibilities without me holding you back."

"I'm not just going to leave you to go make friends and get married, Mom. You should know that."

"But I'll be here. I can hire someone to help me."

"With what money?"

There's another long pause as Meg and her mom stare at each other, the air suffocating around them.

"I just want you to live your life. You shouldn't have to sacrifice so much to take care of me. I should be the one taking care of you. Look into going back to school. They offered you a full scholarship for track, see if you can get that again."

Meg takes in a deep breath before turning around and grabbing her jacket.

"Where are you going?"

"I'm going to go for a run. I don't need to think about that, okay? We can talk more about this when I get back. I just need some air."

Meg hears the door swing open, but when she hears her mom call out for her, her heart shatters.

"Meg, be careful. I love you!"

She didn't hear that at the time, and doesn't remember her mom saying that. All she knew was they could talk about it when she got back from her run.

Tell her mom that she loved her and she was sorry.

But… that's the last time she saw her mom.

She was never able to go back.

Meg is left in silence now, complete and utter silence as she falls to her knees, tears flowing down her face freely now. What she wouldn't do to change that conversation, change that day.

If only she didn't go on a run…

She told Evan that she began to feel like maybe the Entity's realm was worth it in the end because she wouldn't have what she has now…

But this conversation, this memory…would she go back if she could?

In that moment, all she wants is to go back, never to have disappeared. She wants to go back to simpler times, times where she didn't know the definition of agony, where she didn't get used to the smell of death and decay, where she felt human.

In that moment, everything, her life, her emotions feel all worthless in the end.

It would be so easy to give up, she thinks. So easy to close her eyes, drift into the darkness that surrounds her once more.

It screams comfort and rest, finally.

"Meg?"

Evan?

"Meg? Can you hear me? Squeeze my hand again if you can hear me."

His voice comes through the darkness, grips her chest and slowly her tears lessen with his voice, distancing itself from her.

The memory of her mom, of her old life tugs at her like a rope around her chest, squeezing and squeezing until she can't breathe, but even though every fiber of her being hurts both physically and mentally, there is nothing she can do.

She can't go back, can't rewrite history.

That last talk with her mom, she wishes she could have said something different, maybe stayed and had a talk.

Who knows what her life would be like now?

But…

When she closes her eyes again, she sees Evan, and her friends.

Her old life is gone, has been gone for so long; She can't even remember what her own mother looked like, not exactly.

Even within the fog, everything was obscured, and that realization hits her, making her double over.

Her mom would have hated seeing her like this, regretting her life.

Impromptu weekend road trips, picnics at the beach in the middle of winter, teaching Meg to live in the present, her mom would hate seeing her give up after everything.

She has almost everything her mom wanted her to have, friends, a place to call her own, and that has to mean something. She has to move forward.

Suddenly, like a flash of lightning, memories of the barns in Chimacum come to her mind, and the fear she felt and the comfort Evan provided. She stared into his eyes, eyes she can't see now, eyes she would give anything to see again with their warmth, their care when he looks at her.

She hears him again, much clearer than before.

"Please don't give up on me."

She needs to see him again, hear how her name sounds coming from his mouth when they reminisce about old times, times before the Entity. Their talks, especially the last one they had while they were drinking old whiskey in front of the fire comes to mind. Her cheeks were flushed with the alcohol, and every now and then his hand would graze her leg, sending shivers down her spine. But what she loved the most was seeing him become more animated as the time passed. Despite him usually looking like an unmoving statue, that night when he told stories, he began to talk with his large hands, waving them around him to emphasize any small point he tried to make.

Even that felt like a breakthrough, something Meg was both in shock and awe at, that this man who was so closed off, stiff, stern, could let himself go so much as to unbutton the top button of his shirt, cross his legs together on the floor, and talk with such excitement about his past. It was a nice change of pace, she remembers thinking, hearing stories that made him happy, knowing that there were a few things in his life that gave him joy regardless of the rest of the darkness that encompassed him for most of his life.

There is so much more she wants to know, so much more she wants to hear, wants to see, wants to spend with him by her side.

And she wants to see the small smile that tugs at the corner of his mouth every time she walks into the room.

Wiping away tears that have now grown cold on her cheeks, she opens her eyes, but all she sees is darkness no matter how many times she blinks, so she tries to will herself to wake up, to move, to do anything, but she is frozen.

Her body won't move, and panic begins to bubble deep in her chest, in her heart, until she hears Evan say her name through the darkness in her mind once more.

She wants to live, for her friends, for Evan, and this…

This can't be the end for her.

Focusing every ounce of energy left in her feeble body, she manages to squeeze his hand back.

---

12:06 PM

Day 1

Evan

Evan watches the clock beside their bed tick away, and as it hits exactly seven hours after he got her in this bed, he doesn't think he has let out the giant breath he holds in his chest.

Claudette managed to patch up her wounds neatly, and he has yet to see any blood start to peek through any cuts, and her chest rises and falls steadily with every small breath she takes.

She's alive, at least for now, and he couldn't be more grateful.

So now, he sits in a chair beside the bed, grasping her hand in his like it is the only thing keeping him sane in those moments.

She managed to squeeze his hand once six hours ago, and hasn't moved a muscle since, but that was something, that had to mean…something. He wasn't so sure earlier, and it took Claudette four times to explain to him that she just needs rest.

Whatever happened put so much strain on her body, and with all the cuts and bruises tended for, now all they had to do was wait. She could wake up in an hour, or in a day, Claudette said, but at least she was breathing normally now, and her bleeding stopped.

That was what mattered, and even as Claudette suggested giving Meg space, room to breathe, Evan refused to leave her side, not when everything was so dire. Even as the hours pass, he has yet to feel any sort of relief as he stares at how her face twists in pain as she sleeps, and every so often her breath hitches when she inhales too deep.

Unable to look at her eyes for more than a few seconds, he finds his own eyes roam back down to her hand that rests in his and stays glued to the spot. Claudette taped a white pad over her eye where there was a deep gash, one that will leave a scar, a scar just like his.

Knowing Jed Olsen, he knew exactly what he was doing, and Evan's chest physically hurts thinking that she will have the same scar on her face because of him. He can only imagine why Jed decided to do what he did, but the scar placement was no accident, he is almost certain. Jed is methodical, and if he did this to send a message to Evan, he hears it loud and clear, and he will make sure Jed will never lay another hand on Meg again.

Giving her hand another gentle squeeze, he breathes out her name, exhaling slowly as he rubs a thumb over her slender hand before bringing it up to his lips, planting a small kiss on the back of her hand before lowering it down to the bed again, still holding it tight.

There is a knock on the door, and before he can answer, Nea pushes the door open, her eyes landing on Meg first for a few moments before she looks over at him.

"She okay?" She asks, taking a step into the room as she crosses her hands over her chest.

"I think so," Evan says softly, his voice cracking more than he thought it would. Clearing his throat, he continues, "She hasn't woken up yet, but she is still breathing."

"Well, that's good," she mutters, exhaling slowly. "Look, we need to talk to you. Outside."

"About?"

"We just need to talk. David's waiting outside of the room. He…he didn't want to see Meg like this."

Nea gives him a moment to collect his thoughts, a moment of silence between them as they both go back to staring at Meg. Evan's face creases with worry, and Nea shifts uncomfortably on her feet, something Evan has never seen her do.

With a silent nod, Evan gives Meg's hand one last reassuring squeeze before pushing himself up from the chair. His legs and back are stiff from sitting in the same position for hours on end, but that's the last thing he is worried about as he limps out of the room.

Just as Nea said, David is waiting outside, leaning against the wall as he takes in slow, deep breaths. Evan can feel the anger radiate from where he's standing, and instinctively he wants to turn around, go back inside his bedroom, go back to Meg, but something keeps him grounded.

"David, stop," Nea warns from behind Evan before she walks around, separating the two men, and before either of them can say anything else, she continues talking. "We just want to know what happened before she left last night?"

"I do not believe that is any of your concern," Evan says, feeling oddly defensive, especially at the way she asks the question making it seem more like an accusation than anything.

"It is all of our concern, mate," David interjects as he pushes himself off the wall and jabs a finger into Evan's chest. He slaps David's hand away before crossing his arms together and responding.

"We were having a night together and when I fell asleep, she left," Evan says, not wanting to talk about this right now. Not wanting to think about his mistake, his insistence of pushing her away.

"Bullshit," David spits.

"That isn't like Meg-" Nea begins to say only to be interrupted by Evan once more.

"It's exactly like her," he argues back, surprised by her own friends' complete lack of thought when it comes to Meg herself. "She's headstrong, she doesn't like to be told no, and you know when she wants to do something, she won't stop thinking about it until she goes for it."

Nea nods her head for a moment, a small condescending smirk appearing on her face.

"And what did you say no to? What possibly could have made her leave and go into the woods in the middle of the fucking night? Without you, of all people?"

Evan's stomach flips remembering the conversation. He…he even admitted he loved her, the confession bursting from his mouth in front of her friends before he could even admit it to himself. Wishing he could go back in time, he'd give anything to tell Meg first, not be so stubborn in his own feelings.

She told him so many things and he was a fool to push her away, but even that doesn't contain the anger he feels when he thinks about her leaving without him. How could he even begin to explain any of this to Nea when all he wants to do is talk to Meg first?

Balling his hands into fists at his side as a way to concentrate his brewing anger elsewhere, he turns his head back towards the room, trying to come up with something to say that doesn't seem so personal.

But as quick as the conversation turns sour, there are quiet yet fast footsteps coming up the stairs, and from the way they echo through the hall, he recognizes the intent behind whoever is coming upstairs.

Looking over both Nea and David, he sees Kate come up the stairs with a scowl on her face, and once she reaches the top step, she immediately points a finger in their direction.

"What are you guys yellin' about for goodness sake? Right outside of Meg's room?"

"Look, there must have been a reason why Meg would leave without Evan with her, and if her condition is in any way connected to him-"

"Now isn't the time to be talkin' about this. Evan told us as much as we needed to know before he found her, stop berating the poor man."

Evan swallows, unsure how to feel having Kate defend him, and the last thing he wants is to be the reason to cause waves between Meg's friends, especially when she isn't there to calm them down herself.

"Look," Kate continues, clearly agitated as her southern accent sounds a little thicker than normal, "We're all worried but yellin' outside of her room throwin' around accusations isn't goin' to get us anywhere."

Nea and David exchange a look at each other before Nea sighs and turns around. David wipes his nose with his arm and grumbles unintelligible words beneath his breath that Evan doesn't quite catch.

Ignoring the quiet words, Evan doesn't care about what David, or any of them, says about him. There are more important things for him to focus on, and standing outside of his and Meg's room arguing about nothing in particular isn't helping in the slightest.

But he can't say it wasn't worth it, and their own accusations have given him enough fuel to get out of the room and focus on tying up loose ends now that Meg is finally safe.

She is safe with them, and she is alive, and now…

Now he has a job to do.

Pushing past the group, he doesn't bother to say where he's going, already done with this conversation.

"Where are you going?" Nea snaps as she takes a step forward.

"Out," Evan mumbles,

"What will I tell Meg if she wakes up?"

Evan freezes for a moment but doesn't turn around, and right as he is about to say something, he shakes his head, changing his mind before marching down the stairs and out the door, not bothering to close it behind him.

Anything he says to Meg needs to come from him, not her friends.

He'll be back, he knows he will. He just needs to take care of a few loose ends, starting with Jed Olsen bleeding out at his father's old cabin.

---

3:17 PM

Day 1

Meg

White hot pain radiating through her body, razors scraping her nerves, oh god not this again, drills spinning against her bones.

Pain.

Meat hooks swinging in the wind.

Agony.

Herman's hands.

Crows in the distance.

She wakes up screaming, her mouth dry and her skin clammy as she bolts up, her chest tightening so much she can't breathe.

Her scream echoes for a moment through the house until her throat closes, suffocating the sound until it is nothing more than a memory, a breath caught in her chest as she grasps the sheets with white knuckles.

She frantically looks around the room, her eyes wide like a caged animal and as her eyes dart from one corner to the next, she realizes she is alone, she is alive, but the pure panic she feels does nothing to lessen and all she knows is that she can't breathe.

"Meg?"

Nea's voice calls from the other side of the door and when Meg can only make a small sound of desperation, the door flies open and Nea runs up to the bed.

"What's wrong?"

"I-I…" Meg starts to say that she doesn't know. Nothing is wrong other than her mind making her relive those last moments and she still can't breathe. Everything is wrong…nothing is right and yet…

"You're safe, Meg. Okay?" Nea grabs Meg's face in between her hands as she climbs onto the bed, kneeling beside her. "You're surrounded by friends. You're alive. You're safe."

Meg's eyes still look around the room just past Nea thinking that she would see Jed peeking around the corner or Herman standing just out of view, but they're not there.

Nea's here.

She's safe.

Yes.

"Where's Evan?" Meg asks, her voice is scratchy and throat stabs painfully with every breath but she has to know. Her stomach is in painful knots as her breathing starts to catch up to her.

"He's…out," Nea finally responds, running her thumb over Meg's hand before she yanks it from Nea's grasp and begins fumbling with the blankets on the bed, trying to throw them off of her.

That means that if he's not here, he could be anywhere and all she knows is that she has to get to him, has to protect him. She knows all too well what kind of people are out there and what could happen.

Nea begins frantically reaching for Meg's hands, but every time she gets close, Meg smacks her away, determined to push herself through sharp hisses of pain as she ignores every sign that she should simply stay put because if anything happens to Evan…

Mentally crossing out that thought in her mind before it fully develops, not being able to bear the thought of something happening, she pauses briefly, another thought coming to mind.

It's weird, she thinks, that he would just leave without her. He never has in the past, and he wouldn't just leave her side, right? Right?

Just like what you did to him?

Meg pauses for a moment at the realization, but almost immediately, the thought is overshadowed by her urge to get up, not let herself think about the immense guilt that sits waiting like a predator ready to pounce.

Words come tumbling from her mouth quietly as pain grips her back, her shoulders, her hips, but she presses on, trying to push herself so she can get up, find Evan.

"Well why isn't he here?" Meg manages to get one of her legs out from under the heavy blankets. "Where else could he be? He wouldn't just leave. He-"

"Meg!" Nea yells as she grabs Meg by the shoulders. Her voice comes out shaky and uncertain, and Meg pays no attention to it as she continues trying to smack Nea's hands away. Finally, Nea gets a hold of Meg's shoulder and grips hard, shaking Meg, making her freeze to the core.

With her heart rate picking up and sweat beginning to bead and curl her hair along her forehead, memories of being tied up, unable to move and thrown around flash in her mind before Jed Olsen's slimy smirk takes over every thought in her frenzied panic.

What she would give to never have seen that smile…

The ringing in her ears is almost too loud, she almost doesn't hear Nea yell at her, "Meg, stop! Evan is okay!"

"Then…" Meg mutters, her mind feeling disconnected from this moment, and she swears she sees Jed in the corner of the room, leaning against the wall, a shiny blade dripping with blood, her blood, dancing in between his fingers.

Nea's face wrinkles with worry as she spins her head around to follow where Meg's eyes land just over her shoulder, and when she makes no indication of anyone being there, Jed's figure disappears as Meg blinks once, twice, and then she slowly looks back at Nea, continuing her thought. "…then why isn't he here? If he's okay, why isn't he home?" Meg winces as pain radiates through her body and her heart beats like she is running a marathon.

"We got into an argument and he went out for a bit! You know how he is - Meg just listen-"

"Then you don't know if he's safe!" Meg interrupts Nea, feeling out of breath but still trying to push on. "Jed is still out there! Herman is still out-"

"Evan is a big guy, he can handle himself!" Nea quickly climbs off the bed and stands in front of Meg, both trying to comfort her and trying to keep her from getting out of bed, but that doesn't stop Meg from trying to swipe at Nea, just get her out of the way.

Why can't she just let her go?

"But what if he can't! We have to find him!" Meg screams as she tastes salty tears on her lips, not understanding why Nea won't just listen .

"Megan Thomas!"

Her full name catches her off guard, pausing just long enough for Nea to gently grab Meg's hands as she kneels down in front of her. Giving her hands a gentle squeeze, she continues talking. "Evan knows how to protect himself. He knows these woods better than anyone, and he's the one who found you. He will be okay, but right now the priority is you."

The room spins around Meg as she blinks, taking in rapid and shallow breaths until Nea slowly gets up, still holding onto her hands, and sits on the bed beside her. Meg follows her every movement until she starts rubbing her thumbs on the back of Meg's hands, something Evan does that reminds Meg of home, of safety. He used his hands to calm her down from panic attacks multiple times, and although Nea's presence is enough to help Meg's breathing slow and help her mind see the bigger picture, it isn't what she needs in that moment.

Her eyes flick down to their hands intertwined together. Nea's hands are a lot smaller, and a lot smoother than Evan's rough calloused hands; hands that hold the blood of dozens of people, of her friends, of her, and yet…feeling Nea's in hers makes her miss Evan's more than she thought possible.

But Nea is right, she tells herself. Evan can handle himself, and she can only hope that he won't put himself in danger. He has to be smart, be rational.

Not be like her and go off into a dangerous situation alone.

"Better?" Nea asks, her voice strained but kind, and as much as Meg doesn't want to agree, she has to admit she does feel a little bit better now that her head isn't screaming at her to get up, to move.

She tries to speak, but her throat feels like it's on fire, so she nods as she blinks the last of the tears from her eyes.

"Here, let's get you back into bed," Nea says as she helps Meg back under the scratchy covers as her body still shivers violently, craving warmth.

She wishes Evan was here.

Once she is back under the covers, her jaw tenses with every painful shiver, and she closes her eyes for a moment to breathe.

Just breathe.

Trying not to think about how much she physically aches, a thought comes to mind that she should have had sooner but in her state of panic, all she thought about was Evan's safety.

"How did I get here?" she wonders as she stares at the ceiling.

The last thing she remembers is Herman, touching her and sending her into waves of pure agony after being tortured and questioned by Jed. She could barely hold it together, and she only wanted relief.

"Evan went out to find you and brought you back," Nea answers as she runs a hand through her growing undercut. "He was pretty messed up about it too."

So that wasn't an illusion. Meg barely remembers seeing him as she bled out on the ground, but flashes of him begging her to open her eyes, to stay with him come to mind, so faint, but they're there.

She thought she made those up, an illusion as she was dying but now she knows…

He didn't give up on her.

"He isn't here now, but, Meg, he refused to leave your side for hours. I've never seen him like that."

A small smile tugs at the corner of her lips for a brief moment before every other emotion weighing above her comes crashing down. It is nice to know he never left, was still there for her, but other thoughts hang in the back of her mind from her dreams, or rather, nightmares.

"Feng is with them," Meg whispers, remembering the betrayal that seeped deep into her bones at knowing that Feng was a part of why she was being tortured. Someone she considered a friend, someone she trusted.

Everything was simply broken in an instant.

"What?" Nea gasps with eyes wide.

"Feng was there. Working with Herman. Said I needed some enlightenment...I have no idea…" Meg trails off, her mind suddenly feeling like a static television, unable to form words.

"So...what the fuck," Nea mutters, sighing to herself at the new information as Meg takes in a deep breath, thinking about what Feng said about the trials, and if they should really talk about them, as a group. But she can start with Nea.

"Can I ask you something else?" She whispers, pulling the blanket closer around her like a security blanket as she takes in a painful breath.

Crows.

Bloody hooks.

Rusty generators.

All things she dreamt of just minutes ago haunt her when she closes her eyes, and she just has to ask.

"Yeah, of course. What's up?"

"Evan, and...the others aside, do you ever think about the trials?" Meg asks, her voice hoarse as she thinks about how she felt being assaulted by Herman and Jed, completely outside of the trials.

Nea doesn't say anything right away, and if Meg wasn't so close to her, she wouldn't have felt Nea take in a sharp intake of breath before exhaling slowly.

"I don't like to think about them," she admits.

"But, you do think about them," Meg finishes her sentence, already knowing where Nea was going with her thought. She knew just as much, but hearing her say it helped, she thinks.

"I think about them all the damn time. I can never get them out of my head."

Stark silence falls between them for a moment, each girl lost in their own thoughts about the situation.

Meg, although often distracted by her friends, or by Evan, or by most recently, her most heinous assault, often thought about the trials. She never focused on any in particular, but as a whole, she spent nearly a decade of her life in an endless nightmarish cycle of blood and pain and generators and dying.

How could she try to forget it so easily? It seems like everyone else has, yet with the recent events, it now seems impossible for any of them to forget the absolute inhuman things that were done to them.

All she knows is that she tried her best to forget. Always filling her mind with other thoughts, and being constantly surrounded by people helped, but now, she can't get her mind off of her dreams.

But she doesn't bring up the forbidden aspect of the trials, of their life.

They all went through something similar, but the sad fact of the matter is that none of them knows exactly the same ordeal they went through. The pain of the trials were one thing, but leaving behind a whole life was another, and it was easier for some and harder for others, so they never talked about it much.

"Do you remember our first trial together?" Nea asks, interrupting Meg's rapid thoughts as she scoots closer to her, laying her head on top of Meg's on the pillow.

It feels nice, being close since it's been so long, but she tries not to get caught up in the moment with her best friend, and instead she thinks for a moment about their first trial, certain the memory is somewhere in her mind, but as the seconds pass with the clicking of the small clock on her nightstand, she closes her eyes trying to think but as she wonders, all the trials begin to melt together.

Was it with the Wraith? The Hillbilly?

No, it was certainly with the Wraith…right?

Or maybe the Nurse.

"Well," Nea breathes the word out with a hint of disappointment as she clicks her tongue in her mouth before continuing. "It was against Evan, or well, the Trapper. I don't like to blur the two together-"

"I know the feeling," Meg scoffs, pushing down feelings of immense guilt about Evan while Nea takes a deep breath, and without replying to Meg, she continues.

"It was a shit trial, like a real shit trial. It was probably because of me, not knowing what was happening, but I remember the end of it like it just happened yesterday," she laughs quietly. "We were both on the ground, bleeding out, and I was scared, man. I was really scared. Again, not knowing where I was in general, what was happening, and suddenly…I was dying."

Like a knife plunged into Meg's chest and started twisting, she tenses up and closes her eyes as Nea talks about that trial. With a deep inhale, she nods.

"Dying there was the worst, left bleeding out on the ground, ya know? The world started to get dark around me and the excruciating pain I felt started to fade into nothing. But," Nea turns her head towards Meg, her cheek pulling her mouth into a small sad smirk, "You were there with me, and you grabbed my hand. Now normally, I would have hated that. Never been too touchy with anyone else before, but you grabbing my hand," Nea gives Meg's hand another squeeze, "That's exactly what I needed as we looked at each other, bleeding out on the ground and dying together."

As Nea talks, the memory begins to come back to Meg, and a whole new wave of emotion swells within her chest. That was when it was only her, Dwight, Claudette, Jake, and Nea at the campfire.

Or rather, Nea was the first one that Meg had seen come into the campfire that was new. The original four of them seemed to simply walk into the campfire around the same time, so seeing Nea was a surprise, and she wanted to do all she could to help this new person around the campfire and in the trials, and soon after that, they became quick friends.

That first trial…Meg could smack herself for forgetting, especially when she held the memory so close to her for so long.

But with time and with trial after trial, things began to blur, and she wonders how many other experiences she doesn't remember.

"So," Nea clears her throat, interrupting Meg's thoughts, "when you asked if I remember the trials, I do. I remember things here and there, but that…that always stands out above the rest, and I think that something like that, us, it has to mean something in the big shit stain we call life," Nea whispers, "And you know me. Finding the positives isn't my strong suit but…after everything then and everything now, there has to be something. Now, I don't believe in karma, but, maybe...we will be okay."

"I…" Meg trails off. She knows Nea's right, in her mind she knows she's right, but there is something that nags at her heart trying to figure out how she's feeling.

She has Evan…or had Evan. She told him that everything felt worth it because of him and yet after their talk, he practically dismissed her.

He came and saved you.

He felt guilty.

He begged for you to stay alive.

That…

Meg swallows.

Despite Evan's feelings, or lack-thereof, thinking that the time they spent in the Entity's realm was worth it or meant something now sounds like an excuse.

Giving it meaning helps them move on from the years being tortured and killed, but what if there was no meaning?

"We'll figure it out," Nea says, breaking the tense silence. "We always have. After all, we are all that we have left."

Nea's words, despite trying to sound comforting, sound the opposite as Meg closes her eyes, her body shivering slightly. She pulls the blanket tighter around her, letting go of Nea's hand. She's so tired and so cold…

"I need some more sleep," Meg says, grabbing the blanket closer to her chin as her lip wavers. "Thank you for the talk though."

"Oh, yeah. Of course," Nea stutters out, climbing out of the bed and standing next to the empty space as though waiting for Meg to change her mind. "But are you sure you want to be alone? I can stay."

"No," Meg says a little bit too quickly, too forcefully, but as tension and pressure builds in her chest and through her throat, she knows she just wants to be alone. "I mean, I'm okay. Really. I just need some more sleep."

Everything around her seems almost too much for her, suffocating her more with every breath and all she wants in that moment is to be alone.

The only person that could make it better isn't here, and she isn't even sure if he would even care enough to be there for her anymore. Not after…

She stops thinking about their last time together, as she rolls over from the door, blinking her eyes shut.

"Just let me know if you need anything," she hears Nea say as she slowly gets up, the bed creaking at the missing weight, "We'll be right outside."

Meg nods but says nothing more, and after a few seconds she hears the door open and close slowly before she lets out a shaky breath, and that's when the tears begin pouring.

---

1:47 PM

Day 1

Evan

Evan doesn't pay attention to the walk back to the cabin. His mind, although swimming with thoughts, also feels empty, blank. Every thought he has blurs and twists together until it all begins to sound like white noise as he concentrates on the sound of his slow deep breathing.

The thought of Meg floats just on the edge of his mind, but something keeps her at bay like a warning because knowing him, if he thought about her for too long, he would turn around and head back for the house immediately, needing to be by her side.

Although that is priority above all else, he knows that if he were to turn back, he'd never leave, and right now, Jed Olsen needs to be dealt with.

As Evan clutched Meg in his arms leaving the small, dank cabin they were in, Jed seemed just a few breaths from death, and that was okay to him, but now he wants to make sure he's gone. While Meg heals, if he were to disappear, that is one less thing they need to worry about, and as long as he can get rid of the body, he knows no one would come looking for him.

Although he is fairly positive that these cabins haven't been touched in decades, if someone such as a lost hiker, a group of teenagers looking for a place to drink, or even those 'ghost hunters' Meg and Nea have told him about were to stumble upon the cabin with a decomposing body inside, it would only draw unwanted attention towards the whole Estate itself.

He remembers having a conversation with Meg a few weeks back about the Estate, and what would happen if someone were to catch wind of what was once an abandoned house, now full of life, light, and a steady flow of smoke coming from the chimney.

Their talk didn't last long, both of them hesitant to deal with the real consequences of not going out into the real world, and instead hiding away in their own sort of utopia.

Pushing past a branch, Evan snaps it in half with the anger that explodes from him when he thinks of his own ignorance these last few weeks. He thought they were safe, or rather, wanted to believe they were finally safe. He wanted to protect Meg, stay in that small bubble they created with their friends, but even the friendships he has developed with them might be just as broken as his relationship with Meg.

Their - no - her friends, chose Meg and they're on her side through everything, as they should be, blaming him for the state in which she lies at their home. None of this would have happened if he put aside his own stubbornness and admitted his own feelings for her when she was right there, safe and happy in his arms.

So he can't blame them for being angry at him, not one bit. He would do the same, and he would choose Meg over anyone every single time.

Not to say he didn't care about her friends; He is learning to enjoy the comfort that came from having people care about him, and he can't even begin to describe how it feels to care about them just as much, but deep down he knew it would come to an end; he just didn't want it to be so soon.

Taking in a deep breath as he wipes beads of sweat from his brow, he pushes past another thick patch of branches and he stops, seeing the front door of the cabin gently swaying with the slight breeze that blows around him.

He doesn't remember if he closed the door behind him or not, it didn't matter at the time, but either way, Evan's skin tingles as he looks around, feeling a shift in the air around him. The sun is now high enough in the sky that it casts golden rays through the leaves, illuminating the decaying house before him. He didn't notice the state of it in the early morning, and now in the daylight, it surprises him that it is still left standing.

The wood, once a rich oak, is now dark and flaking off in huge chunks, with dark green moss and ivy taking over the cabin as though slowly consuming it back into the Earth. The fact that it still stands is both an awe and a disappointment to Evan, thinking that it should disappear, be wiped from this Earth.

There were no happy memories here, even long before the incident that happened last night. Everything left from his family's name shouldn't be here, including him, and he feels that weight as he stares back at the cabin.

Maybe he should burn it down, find all the old cabins, burn them to the ground, erase any evidence of his father, of his own immoral actions…

But now is not the time.

Dispose of Jed Olsen first then go back and check on Meg. Those are his only priorities, and everything else can come later.

Without a second thought, Evan walks over to the cabin, prepared, and even a little excited, to see Jed dead on the floor, and with one less thing to worry about, they can all begin to move on from this.

Pushing the swinging door fully open, Evan expects to see Jed where he left him on the floor, propped up by the wall opposite of him, but as the light streams in, Evan is greeted only by an outline of his own shadow and a pool of drying blood.

What?

Where could he have gone?

Evan stands there as the sounds around the cabin quiet until he only hears his own rapid heartbeat, ready to tear this cabin up board-by-board to look for the slimy bastard, but as his eyes scan the floor, there are no blood trails, no indication that he got up on his own and crawled or walked away.

Someone had to have found him and carried him out of here.

Looking over his shoulder and scanning the trees around him, Evan doesn't see anything out of the ordinary, but as he turns back around, an orange envelope catches his eye, propped up on the table Evan knocked over before he found Meg.

Walking over slowly, he keeps his ears open for any sign of movement around him, but the cabin remains silent and the air is stale, so he quickly reaches out for the envelope and retreats back to the doorway.

The whole cabin inside smells like decay and blood, reminding him too much of how the trials used to smell, so he takes a step outside, wanting to get away from the stale air as quickly as possible.

Taking a deep breath of the fresh air, he brings the envelope up and carefully turns it over in his hands, seeing his name written in familiar writing that causes his stomach to sink and his nostrils flare.

Ripping open the top, at least a dozen pictures fall out onto the ground around him and once he sees a flash of red hair, he begins shaking.

No…

Pictures of Jeffrey on top of Meg, groping her, violating her are all around him as he falls to his knees with a loud crash.

Flashes of the old barn house at Chimacum come into his mind, and just how scared he was, not unlike how he was just a few hours ago, and how furious he was both at himself and the others. He couldn't be there to protect her from the absolute heinous acts they did, and seeing these pictures makes him feel sick.

All the photos show the same scene: Jeffrey, sweating and dripping grease paint around them with a huge yellow smile as Meg struggles below him, her face scrunched up in pain and fear as his hands roam her body.

If Evan didn't already kill him, he would hunt down the bastard all over again to make sure he paid for what he did, and as Evan's vision blurs and the ringing in his head worsens with every second looking at these, he is glad he finally got to stab him right in the chest and watch him bleed out on the floor.

Now if only he could say the same about Jed.

Quickly gathering up the photos while trying not to look too hard at them, he picks the envelope back up, wanting to stuff them away never to be seen again by anyone, but as he turns it in his hand, he sees a small piece of paper that didn't fall out, and for a second, he considers ignoring it, not bothering to read it, but if it's important, he needs to know what it says in order to protect Meg as best as he can.

Pulling the paper out, there is a blood stain on one side and the words resemble scribbles more than anything, but Evan manages to read it after a few tries, and once he gets to the initials, his mind goes blank.

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

135 Skyco Lane, Index, WA 98256

Love and kisses

-J.O.

He's alive.

That bastard is alive…how?

But then a sudden thought dawns on him, and suddenly he gets up and sprints off into the woods wanting to get back as soon as possible. What if the envelope was a distraction, and Herman, and possibly Jed, could be at the Estate at this very moment?

How could he be so stupid not to leave as soon as he saw Jed's body gone?

Running through the woods for the second time in just a few hours, Evan begins to recognize these woods a little too well, and hates that it is only because the people he cares about most have been in extreme danger, and most likely because of him.

As he runs, the sun rises a bit higher, illuminating the path a little bit easier than before, so he presses on faster than he ever thought he could run as the only thought that blares in his mind is Meg.

Meg.

Meg.

Meg.

As he reaches the clearing to the house, everything looks the same, no forced entry into the house, and as he bounds up the porch steps, he swings open the front door and like a wild animal, he begins searching every room, making sure everyone is safe.

When he gets into the living room, and once he sees Claudette reading by the fire, he relaxes, just a little bit, knowing that if anything were to have happened, Claudette would know.

"Welcome back," she says softly as she closes the book she was reading, but once she looks up, her eyes flicker down to his balled up fists and rabid look on his face, and she sets the book down hard on the floor before pushing herself up. "What's wrong?"

"Is anyone here?" Evan pants out, mind focused on anything that could be wrong, and he needs to know as soon as possible.

"Anyone? What do you mean?"

"Jed, Herman, anyone who shouldn't be," he breathes out, his heart rate coming down at her confusion, which is a good sign.

"No, I don't think so." Claudette asks as she begins to look around the room. Before she can let him say another word, she is over at the window, peeking outside through the drawn curtains. "Why?"

"I…"

"Oh, so you're finally back," he hears Nea say from behind him, startling him just enough to make his heart skip a beat, but when he comes to, he turns around slowly.

"Is everyone okay here?"

"What do you mean? Meg is upstairs-"

"So…okay…" he sighs, and Claudette drops the curtain, turning around to face both Nea and Evan once more as he struggles to catch his breath.

Running never used to be an issue with him…why is this so hard?

"I don't think anyone is here, but if we should be worried, maybe now's the time to tell us," Claudette says, walking over to Evan with an outstretched arm. She hesitates before reaching him, her arm floating in the air before letting it fall to her side. "Should we be worried?"

"No…maybe…" Evan tries to gather his thoughts, but scaring them unnecessarily would be pointless. He's here now, and no way would Jed or Herman come into the house with him here.

They're safe; they're all safe.

"What the hell is going on?" Nea snaps as she walks in front of Evan, looking up at him with a stern look on her face. "Coming back, out of breath, no explanation for freaking us all out…"

"Jed wasn't at the cabin," Evan says quietly, swallowing his drying throat.

"What?"

"Jed wasn't there," Evan repeats, looking around. "I thought I killed him, or would have killed him, and when I went back, he was nowhere to be found. I was worried that they'd make their way here."

"Well," Claudette speaks up, crossing her arms across her chest as she looks around, "it looks like it's still just us. That we can figure out later, but-"

"But Meg woke up," Nea interrupts, and Evan's chest squeezes and his ears ring like he heard her wrong.

"What did you say?" he asks, in shock and not sure if he heard her right.

"Meg. She woke up. She was asking for you, ya know. She had a full blown panic attack. Tried to go look for you. After everything, why couldn't you have just stayed with her?" Nea scolds, folding her arms in front of her with a scowl on her face.

Like a punch to the gut, Evan grunts in acknowledgement to her statement, but has nothing to say that could ever help. So instead he throws the bound up envelope he held so tight in his hand all the way home on a nearby table and rushes up the stairs, just wanting to get to her.

She's alive.

She's okay.

Relief floods through him as he crashes through their door, the wood slamming against the wall, and his eyes fall on a heaping mess of blankets in their bed, with red hair peeking out from the top. From what he can tell, she is facing away from the door, and it takes him a moment to collect his racing thoughts.

She's facing another way, and Nea wasn't lying.

Taking a tentative step inside the room, he pauses, like this is a dream and any wrong step will change everything he sees, but when nothing changes, and the only sound he hears is his own heartbeat, he exhales slowly, racing quickly to Meg's side.

The room is completely silent as he reaches the bed, and for a moment he wonders if Meg's okay, but when a small groan escapes the confines of the covers, he can't help but practically collapse on the bed. The mattress sinks below his weight as he pulls his feet up, not even bothering to take off his dirty boots even as he rests a hand on Meg's shoulder.

His own breath catches in his chest as he waits, hoping for any other sign from her, but when nothing greets him, he deflates slowly, both mentally and physically.

But, he thinks, seeing her shoulder move up and down slowly with her steady breathing is enough. Anything is enough, as long as she is okay.

Slowly, and painfully, he decides to pull himself away from the bed, wanting to hold her close but feeling like he should give her at least some space, he gets up from the bed and sits down slowly in the same chair he spent all morning.

Letting out a deep breath, his eyes roam her face and only then does he notice the drying tears and small wet spot on the pillow, and his heart shatters in his chest, feeling like he has failed her yet again.

She was crying.

And he wasn't there for her.

---

9:52 AM

Day 2

Meg

Beep Beep Beep

What time is it?

Squinting her sealed shut eyes, Meg groans, rolling over to face where Evan should be, but when her hand lands on cold sheets, she frowns. Fumbling for both Evan's warmth and the alarm clock beside her bed, she slams her hand down effectively shutting off the blaring alarm as she rolls on her back.

She's so tired. Is it really time to get up already?

Cracking an eye open, the first thing she sees is bright sunlight streaming into the room through their already cracked curtains, illuminating the doorway to her right.

Smacking her dry mouth a few times, her eyes feel heavy and drift back shut until she takes in a deep inhale through her nose, and her stomach immediately recoils with hunger.

The euphoric smell of bacon and eggs wafts up into the bedroom and as Meg takes in another deep breath savoring the sense, the smell overcomes her and her stomach practically screams in hunger.

That's all the motivation she needed.

Finally deciding to jump out of bed, Meg pulls on a thin red robe and white slippers as she makes her way downstairs. Somewhere along the way, they were able to hook up electricity to the house, lining the hallway and the foyer with modern lights that fill Meg's mind with comfort.

When did they put in electricity?

Immediately forgetting her previous thought, she smiles knowing there never has to be any darkness, and nothing hiding in the shadows. The walls have been painted a soft pearl white and they even replaced the dark wood flooring with a much lighter birch wood. Everything about the manor feels like home, feels right.

So with a smile still on her face, Meg turns the corner into the kitchen to see her daughter… what was her nam e… sitting at the table already chowing down on an insane amount of scrambled eggs, and she sees Evan over by the stove, whistling a quiet song to himself as he cooks.

Walking over to the table, she brushes a hand through her daughter's red hair - just like hers - as she takes a seat at the table, but as she looks over, she knows she recognizes the colorful skull and flannel that her daughter wears that is clearly four sizes too big for her.

"Isn't that Auntie Nea's shirt?" Meg asks, poking at her upper arm and raising an eyebrow, trying her best not to laugh.

"Yeah. I stole it from her closet," her daughter says, her voice high as a sly smile grows across her face.

She has the same dimple as Evan.

Meg always loved that they shared that.

But the sound of Evan turning around and yelling their daughter's name startles her as she looks over to him but, again, Meg can't quite catch her name.

What is happening?

"What? She's the one who taught me how to sneak in and out of places," her daughter says, shrugging as she continues, "If she didn't want me snooping through her stuff, she should have thought about that sooner."

"You know you're gonna have to give that back," Evan scolds, a frown etched in his face as he turns to his daughter.

"I got one for mom too," her daughter says quietly, pulling out another shirt of Nea's from behind her back. She holds it up to Meg who can't help but laugh as her mouth pulls into the same mischievous smirk her daughter had moments before.

"I guess it would be funny to both wear the shirts next time Nea comes over…"

"That's what I thought!" her daughter exclaims, already tossing the shirt over to Meg who catches it with one hand as she shovels bacon in her mouth with the other.

"Ladies…" Evan begins to say as he sits down with no hint of amusement on his face. "You know-"

"Yeah yeah, dad. We'll give her the shirts back after but you know it's funny."

"Meg…" Evan says turning to his wife, pleading for her to be on his side.

Wife?

Meg runs her thumb over the gold ring around her finger and…

When did they get married?

"Right, Mom?" her daughter's voice interrupts Meg's thoughts.

"Oh, what was that, sweetie?" Meg says, her voice shaky with her sudden confusion.

"It would be funny. Tell dad not to be so uptight."

"Uptight? I am simply trying to teach you manners, and stealing isn't…"

Evan's voice fades into the background as Meg's mind begins to fade like a television show filled with static. She thinks she hears her daughter and Evan talking, and Evan's laugh comes through louder than anything but everything is so blurry.

Her head feels heavy as her world spins around her, and then…

There is silence.

Blaring silence for a few moments until the world catches back up to her.

Her daughter is giving Meg a hug with her small arms. Meg can smell the fruity shampoo she uses when she takes in a deep breath, and instinctively, she wraps her daughter up in her arms.

Evan is looking at the two of them with a smile on his face, one that accentuates his dimple as the corner of his eyes crease. Meg notices small patches of grey streaking through his dark slicked back hair and her heart skips a beat simply looking at just how handsome he is.

"This could be nice," Evan says slowly, lowering his hand to the table, his palm up like an invitation for her to rest her hand in his.

"What do you mean 'could'?" Meg asks as she reaches out for him. Resting her hand on top of his, she expects to feel his warmth, but instead he feels cold, foreign. A chill runs through her when she realizes her daughter is nowhere to be seen anymore. Wasn't she just hugging her?

"That we could have had a great life together if we never met in the Entity's realm. If we were born in the same time period. If we just…were. We could have had an amazing life," Evan says, his voice getting deeper until she can hardly recognize it.

"What do you mean? We have an amazing life, right?"

"It could be. But how could you ever forgive any of this? This isn't how it should be. This isn't how your life should be." Evan's voice is so distorted by now, Meg tries to take her hand back as the lights begin to pop out around her.

What is going on?

"What are you saying? Evan, you're scaring me."

"You shouldn't forgive me. After everything I did to you, after everything I will do in the future, this life shouldn't be possible. You deserve better. You deserve the world."

The once comforting phrase Evan said to her now sends chills through her bones as the makeshift picturesque scene of Evan, their child, the smell of bacon and comfort fade into a black void until there is nothing left but her, and as she closes her eyes, she wakes up.

The room around her doesn't smell like bacon and the darkness folds around her like ice, making her shiver as she pulls the scratchy comforter tighter against her. Instead the room smells like old mahogany, dust, and a slight smell of mint coming from whatever medicine sits on her bedside table.

It takes her a moment, blinking at the blank wall, to realize where she is, and that child, that dream she had wasn't real.

How could it feel so real, she can still ever so faintly taste the coffee on her lips?

Taking in a slow breath, she exhales through her mouth as she rolls on her back. Imagining a life with Evan, a life that intimate felt so right, and yet…

Now he won't even stay beside her. She blew any chance of that happening, if that ever was a possibility, but that's okay, right? She never thought she'd want Evan in her life as much as she does now…

But what was that dream?

It felt so real and yet…

Mentally shaking her head, she pushes it from her mind despite the way her stomach is filled with butterflies and how her eyes water at the daughter that has never existed.

Her mother had mentioned a few times various supernatural things, and she even tried to get into Tarot card readings once after discovering some distant relative of theirs claimed to be a psychic. Meg never believed in that stuff, only believing the things she could feel, touch.

Anything that claimed to be mystical to her seemed fake, or easily explainable, and she always brushed it off, but this was also the first time she has ever had a dream so vivid…so…

She pushes the thought from her mind and as she opens her eyes and blinks, taking in the very real, very dark room around her, the details of the dream begin to fade until even the faint taste of coffee in Meg's mouth subsides.

Exhaling while closing her eyes again, feeling too tired to really wake up, she calms her raging nerves by repeating a silent mantra to herself.

That was just a dream.

That's all it was.

Not reality.

Just a dream.

No matter how much she realizes that she wants it to be real.

---

6:30 PM

Day 2

Evan

Something jolts Evan awake, and with his heart pounding and lungs screaming for air, he frantically looks around, expecting to see whatever it was that woke him up, but as the seconds tick by, he realizes he is alone. Wiping a bead of sweat from his forehead, he closes his eyes and opens his fists, trying to regain some semblance of self.

The fire sizzles quietly beside him, the flame almost completely put out by now as Evan shivers for a moment before opening his eyes once more to see Nea standing in the doorway, arms crossed with a frown on her face.

The two stare at each other, Evan waiting for her to speak, but when she doesn't, he pushes himself from the chair to try to get another fire going to help the rapidly cooling living room.

He doesn't hear Nea move until she throws herself on the other chair to Evan's left with a loud thud and a long sigh.

"Heard you were awake," she begins to say casually. "The snoring stopped." Her sentence clips at the end just enough to where Evan can hear the tension behind her words, almost like she is forcing herself not to say something else, something she really wants to say instead. He almost wants to ask, but in the short time he has known Nea, he knows she'll say whatever is on her mind soon enough. He doesn't need to drag it out of her.

Her and Meg are a lot alike in that way.

"I don't snore," he finally responds, pulling a log from the pile Meg made a few days ago when he taught her how to chop wood.

"You don't hear yourself when you're sleeping. You snore."

Evan puts another log in the fireplace before straightening his back and turning to face Nea.

"Is there something I can help you with or are you in here merely to comment on my sleeping habits?"

With a frustrated sigh, Nea rolls her eyes and adjusts herself, so she is facing an end table that is just between her and Evan.

"I found this," she spits out as she throws a crumpled up envelope on the table. Evan barely has enough time to reach for it before Nea talks again. "So? Care to explain?"

As soon as Evan sees the orange, he knows that it's the letter from Jed Olsen, the same one he balled up in his fist and tossed aside once he was told Meg was okay.

"I found this at the cabin where I found Meg," he begins to explain as he tries to breathe slowly, but fails as his hands start to shake with fury at the contents of the note.

"Oh so you found it? Or was it given to you?"

Evan's head snaps up at the venom snaking through Nea's words. She is now fully glaring at him, her mouth turned downwards into a frown. A muscle in her cheek twitches but she doesn't break eye contact.

It is only then that Evan realizes what Nea is insinuating, and that's when Nea's words come tumbling from her mouth.

"You're hiding something, and I won't accuse you of working with them, but there's something you're not telling us."

"I have been completely transparent with you, and if you choose not to believe me then that is none of my concern. Do you honestly believe I would willingly help with that letter? Those pictures?"

Nea's mouth scrunches up in a small frown as she crosses her arms, making Evan want to laugh as she begins acting like an angry toddler, but instead of provoking the situation further, he remains stoic, waiting to see what she says.

"I…" Nea pauses, her face growing red as she looks between the note on the table and Evan, looking more flustered than he's ever seen her, and without warning, she kicks the table, completely shattering a wooden leg from one side, as the rest of it falls over causing a loud bang to echo around the house. "Fuck!" she yells, immediately bringing her foot up onto the chair. "No, you wouldn't but - fuck that hurt - But still. Why didn't you say anything about this once you got back? Do you see how incriminating that looks?"

Not even bothered by the table or Nea's outburst, Evan looks down at the letter on the ground and picks it up while taking a seat in the leather chair beside her. Before he can ask about the state of Nea's foot, Claudette's voice carries through the house from the kitchen.

"What is going on in there?" She asks like a mother coming to reprimand her children as she rushes in through the doorway wiping her hands on her apron, leaving streaks of flour behind. Neither Evan or Nea say anything as Evan sits back in his chair and crosses his legs, and Nea leans forward, cradling her foot.

Blowing an irritated puff of air from her nose, Claudette puts her hands on her hips as she looks between the two. "Well? Nea I'm not helping you with your foot unless you tell me what happened."

Evan doesn't know whether to be the one to say something, and as Nea sits rocking back and forth cradling her foot, he sighs.

"She found a note I had forgotten to mention once I came back yesterday," he admits, feeling guilty about the note and not saying anything sooner, but deep down he knows he would have said something. He just…

He needed to make sure Meg was okay first, and after he saw she was alive, everything else slipped his mind, and once he came back downstairs after seeing her, the letter was the last thing he wanted to remember.

Claudette looks between Evan and Nea, waiting for confirmation from her, and as Nea nods, Claudette's posture softens as she walks over to Nea.

"Well, kicking furniture isn't going to help," she scolds, already kneeling down on the floor to look at Nea's foot.

"Oh, so big guy can punch door frames and I can't kick a table?"

"Not if you're going to injure yourself, no," Claudette snaps, only to be interrupted by voices coming down the hallway.

"What was that crash?" Dwight asks with Kate right behind him as they come into the room, looking between the three, and when their eyes land on Nea's already swelling and bleeding foot, they rush into the seats opposite of her.

"What happened?" Kate asks, already getting the first-aid kit that was left in the room from when they needed it for Meg yesterday.

Nea and Evan exchange glances, being the only two who have clearly read the note that caused her to almost break her whole foot from frustration, and as Nea looks to the floor, her face still scrunched up in anger, he decides to pull out the envelope and explain the situation.

Slowly, Kate and Dwight take seats, hanging onto every word as their faces fall, especially when Evan mentions the pictures, but he presses on, passing the note to his left to Claudette to read first. One-by-one, the note gets passed around, everyone reading it slowly, taking in the words before passing it to the next person with a dejected sigh as the air in the room grows heavy.

"So, we really aren't out of the woods yet," Claudette mumbles as the note reaches her again. Carefully folding it back up, she puts it in the envelope, not bothering to take the pictures out after what Evan said they were.

"Why can't they just leave us alone?" Dwight asks quietly, more to himself than to anyone as everyone takes a moment, lost in their own thoughts.

Evan is thankful that no one pulled out the photos of Meg, taking his word for what the pictures contained, not wanting anyone else to see those or have to visually see what happened to her. If anything, Evan wants Meg to make the call on what to do with the photos, or who should see them.

He can't stop the fact that Jed has the originals, and he has already come to the conclusion that he will do anything to get those in his possession to destroy them from existence.

But the note is important, especially the address, he thinks, and it is almost a relief to know that he doesn't have to carry that around on his own.

Relying on others has never been a strong suit of his, if ever, and he can't say he's completely comfortable, but he'd be lying if he said there wasn't some weight lifted from within him.

"So, we know Jed's referencing pictures from the barns, and we never really talked about it," Nea bursts out, being the first to break the silence, and Evan's rambling thoughts, as she reaches down to her sore foot, already tugging at the bandage Claudette put on the cut on her toe. "What did you guys experience there? Was it anything like what happened to Meg?"

"Well the doctor wasn't there, that's for sure. But…" Claudette says before trailing off, not saying anything more.

"Things happened…" Dwight speaks up as he shifts uncomfortably in his seat. His hand twitches beside him almost like he is reaching out for David who, for once, isn't there.

Evan knows the feeling.

The group becomes quiet, and as Evan looks around to each of them, he doesn't know what to say as a darkness falls across the room.

"Oh, come on…it can't be that bad," Nea tries to say nonchalantly, but her voice wavers with insecurity at the sudden change.

"We were never as bad off as Meg is right now, but it wasn't a walk in the park either, honey," Kate mutters while she closes her eyes shut.

"Well you did go to the hospital-"

"But it was because I was forced to drink some god awful drink. Before that we were…" her voice cracks as her eyes are still shut closed. Evan thinks he sees a tear fall from her left eye, so he looks away.

She's reliving her time there, there's no doubt about it, and it feels almost too intimate for Evan to be sitting here, like an outsider.

This is a conversation for her friends, for their support, not for him to listen in, but before he can get up, she begins talking again.

"We were groped and slapped and cut and told…" Kate's voice cracks and her sentence stops as she takes a deep breath and opens her eyes, quickly wiping tears that now freely fall down her face.

"We were told horrible things," Claudette speaks up, her voice small but everyone holds their breath, listening to every word. "Jed, or Danny, whoever Ghostface is, he loved to hear himself talk. I think we all know that by now," she ends her sentence with a humorless laugh, one that she shares with almost everyone in the room with sad noises of acknowledgement. "But he would tell me things he knew about me, secrets I haven't even thought about since before the Entity. He told me all the things he loved doing to me, to us, in those trials. Graphic…horrible…"

Her voice fades off until Evan only hears small sniffling and the sound of the fire crackling beside him as he clenches his hands together.

"I know Jed better than any of you, unfortunately, and I am so sorry that any of you had to endure any of his sick and twisted-"

"Honey, it's okay," Kate interrupts Evan's apology, making him fumble over his words as he looks at her with a mixture of confusion on his face. "If you didn't show up, if any of you didn't show up," she says, gesturing to Nea as well, "who knows where we'd be or if we'd still be alive. Don't beat yourself up about what happened. That was beyond your control." Kate gives Evan a small smile, one that reaches her sad eyes as she gives him a small nod.

"But before-" Evan tries to bring up, but is only interrupted by Kate shaking her head and holding a hand up to make him stop talking.

"That…" she pauses, quickly exhaling before looking up at him with her head tilted to the side. "That was so long ago. We know you didn't mean it, but this, with them, that was on purpose and you staying to help us in any way possible means so much."

Evan shakes his head, refusing to hear what she has to say until she lets out a small laugh that carries around the room.

"You've given us a place to stay, helped save half of us, and have kept Meg safe beyond what any of us could do. You've been a saint, even if you weren't so much in the past. What you are now, we appreciate."

Kate's kind words leave Evan speechless. He doesn't deserve to be treated like this by the survivors. Having Meg be nice to him, sleep in his bed, and constantly smiling at him like he's the only one in the room overwhelms him most of the time, and now…

Now her friends are forgiving of him, letting him in, and he doesn't know what to make of it, so he nods back, not saying anything more as he swallows down unfamiliar emotions that bubble in his chest.

"So what do we do?" Dwight asks as silence passes through the room, and Evan is thankful for the change of subject from his own speechless mind. "Just sit and wait for something else to happen, find them, or…"

The group pauses, focusing back onto the main topic as they all exchange uneasy glances before looking down at the ground and wringing their hands together.

"I don't know," Claudette decides to speak up, saying what is on everyone's mind before continuing, "But I think we should wait until Meg is better so she can be in this conversation too. But, you know guys, I've had a thought recently." Her voice trails off for a moment as she scratches her hands together until Evan thinks she might claw her own skin off.

"What is it?" Nea asks.

"You know how they mentioned, well, Jed mentioned a portal or rift? Like a way to get back?"

Nea shakes her head despite clearly being the one she isn't asking, and Claudette looks between Kate and Dwight. Both of them take a moment before nodding.

"Wait, what do you mean?" Nea asks, leaning forward as she leans her elbows on her knees.

"They often talked about needing a rift to get back, and we were the key, they kept repeating. So…" Claudette exhales a slow, shaky breath before continuing. "What if they weren't just torturing us for the sake of torture or whatever we did in the past?"

She pauses but no one dares interrupt her thoughts as Claudette shivers beside Evan. He is tempted to get her a blanket, but like everyone else in the room, he feels glued to the spot, waiting for the rest of her sentence.

Swallowing hard, she looks up again.

"What if they were just killing us slowly to make their own sort of portal? What if us being the 'key' to it all means we are, quite literally, the keys? Without us, they can't get back to doing whatever plan they have, and that's why none of us are dead, after all the times they could have killed us."

"But Meg upstairs-"

"She isn't dead though. The placement of Jed's cuts, he knows where to cause the most pain without actually causing any fatal injuries."

At the words of Meg being assaulted, Evan's stomach churns and he looks away, digging his fingernails into his palm with a clenched fist. He doesn't want to think about it, can't think about it-

"He could have easily nicked an artery and she…" Claudette stops as she takes in a deep breath, not wanting to say what everyone is thinking. "Well we all know what could have happened."

"So what?" Nea spits out as she slumps back in her chair, a scowl clear on her face that almost makes Evan laugh.

Almost.

She reflects how he feels inside at the mention of Meg, so he does nothing to calm her down, letting her continue her rant.

"We should just thank these bastards for not killing you four or Meg? 'Oh thank you Mister Ghostface for sparing us our lives only to be scarred and almost die.'"

"Nea, you know that's not what she's talking about," Dwight says. "Claudette has a point. We don't need to thank them, but instead think about why they didn't kill us when they had the chance, or even cause lasting damage."

"Okay, well," Nea looks away, her face reddening as she flaps her arm at the rest of the group, "fine. I just-"

"We know, hun," Kate says, "The fact that Meg is upstairs, sleepin' for the last two days straight is concerning. But she'll come around, she's strong. We all are."

"And as much as it was nice forgetting any of this, I guess now we need to be prepared for the real dangers that could happen," Dwight says, finishing Kate's sentence with a nod to Nea.

"We've been too careless, haven't we?" Claudette says quietly as she looks at the floor. "It just felt nice to think we could actually have a life."

Silence follows Claudette's reply, everyone taking a moment to collectively grieve their lost sense of security they've built for the past few weeks.

Evan can't say he didn't do the same as he stares at his hands, still purple and red from the beating Jed took by his own hand, and it now serves as a constant reminder that they really can't just be left alone.

"I j-just thought," Dwight speaks up, pausing as he clears his throat and picks at a loose thread in his sweatshirt, "After everything, don't we deserve some break? It's like the universe is telling us that we've done something wrong, something to deserve this, or maybe it's karma, or maybe-"

"There's no such thing as karma," Nea snaps as she rolls her eyes. "The universe is just one big pile of shit where good things happen to bad people and bad things happen to good people. The universe isn't keeping count of what happens to us."

"Growin' up as a Christian, I was taught that everythin' happens for a reason," Kate says, her voice quiet but soothing as she looks between Nea and Dwight that are now staring at each other. "It isn't our place to know."

"Kate," Nea peels her focus from Dwight to roll her eyes at Kate as she continues, "that's great and you can believe that, but after spending years in that hellhole, do you still believe in that? Truly believe in it?"

Kate swallows and purses her lips, straightening her back before continuing, "I'd like to. It's hard, but thinkin' that there is some justice, some purpose to everythin' helps. I'm not askin' you to think the same way, but if there is some world like the Entity's realm, I think that means there could be other realms. Heaven, Hell, purgatory, what have you."

"That still doesn't mean that karma is real," Nea hisses through clenched teeth. Evan looks up at the sudden extreme venom coming from her, and he notices her wipe her eyes on her arm quickly. "How could you even think that when we have Meg upstairs who was tortured within an inch of her life and you're talking about everything happens for a reason? What was the reason for Meg almost dying, huh?"

"Guys, maybe right now isn't the time to have some sort of religious breakthrough," Claudette speaks up louder now as she raises her arms at Nea and Kate. "No matter what we believe, the immediate concern is what we are going to do now. We thought we could build a life here, but maybe it's apparent we can't just forget everything that has happened to us."

"So what're you saying?" Dwight asks, sighing quietly as he hunches over.

"We need to prepare, reflect, I don't know, just do something other than yelling at each other over different religious views. We have to be ready for when they come back."

Evan nods his head unconsciously along with Claudette, not particularly enjoying the religious talk himself, never being one to believe in anything except karma, and maybe, he thinks, Dwight has a point.

Everything that has happened to him, being taken by the Entity, tortured, forced to give up everything to become a killing machine, it was a fitting punishment. He remembers saying as much to Meg, but he never thought about how that fit into the whole universe; merely that it was something he deserved.

But Claudette is right, and questioning their own existence isn't going to help, at least not right now.

"They're coming back in a week, or at least a week from when that note was written so that means that we only have five days, assuming the note was written after Meg's attack."

"Don't you think that's suspicious though?" Nea asks. "Why would they give us a whole week to prepare or leave or abandon this house?"

"What if that's their plan?" Evan speaks up finally as uncertainty floods through him. It's a weird feeling, one that Evan isn't used to, but he presses on. "We don't know what they asked Meg, or what happened, and until we know, we should prepare for the worst, but I say we stay here."

"And just be sitting ducks?" Dwight asks, his eyes widening with panic.

"There is a reason they haven't been able to get on the property, and I am not sure what it is, but they could have easily come here sooner."

"But the thing is," Dwight says, rubbing his eyes as his voice wavers, "what if that has been their plan all along? Get us to feel safe, feel comfortable. If we are keys, as Claudette mentioned earlier, everything that has happened hasn't made a portal or rift or whatever. They might give up soon if it doesn't work and they could easily come and kill us all if they wanted."

"No one is going to be murdered or harmed again," Evan says louder than he meant it to, but after everything, he is determined to not only protect Meg, but protect her friends as well. It's the least he could do. He owes it to them as much as he owes it to Meg. "I've said as much to Meg, but I'll protect all of you."

"We appreciate the sentiment, hun, but you're just one man," Kate says, giving Evan a small smile. "If they come back, sure you could take on one, maybe two, but there's Feng we have to worry about too, according to what Nea has told us."

"Plus if they have any other person with them. Seeing the Doctor - fuck - Herman was a surprise, and they have only had more time to find more if any of those other fuckers got out," Nea says.

"That is why we will come up with a plan, be ready. Prepare weapons, a safe house, something in case they decide to come back," Evan nods, understanding where they're coming from, but the way he felt beating up Jed sends shivers down his spine. Yes he's one man, but they have no idea what he is capable of out here, and he's worried he might be just as strong as he was in the realm, and what implications that might have.

But he can't think about that, not right now, not when their own lives are at stake, so Evan finishes his sentence with a nod, and everyone nods along before Dwight turns to Evan, "What about taking a trip to the address in Jed's note?"

---

2:14 AM

Day 3

Meg

It's dark by the time Meg wakes up again, and feeling like she can't get enough sleep lately no matter how long she sleeps for, she begins to feel like the days are passing by and blending together into a never-ending nightmare, which would be horrible on its own, but something else completely bothers her most of all.

She still hasn't seen Evan since she left to go without him into the woods, and he hasn't been in to see her for all she knows. She doesn't know where he is, only that he's safe in the house when she asks about him to her friends when they bring her water and food…so then…

Why hasn't he been to see her?

All she wants with her whole heart and soul is to be next to him, have him wrap her into his arms, pull her close like he did every night they spent together.

She never realized how big and cold the bed was without him in it.

Often she tries to call out for him, but his name gets caught in her throat, lost in the space between them that she can't stand.

As Meg rolls over in bed, the sheets stick uncomfortably to her clammy skin and she wonders when the last time she took a shower was…

She briefly remembers Claudette explaining how she gave her a quick wash as best as she could with Meg in bed, unconscious, but the thought of a bath sounds like heaven.

The warm water washing over her bruised and cut body, the steam calming her when she breathes in, and finally being able to wash away the last few days, hopefully feeling at least a little bit more calm.

Pushing herself up from the bed, she hobbles over to the bathroom, her legs still shaky and unstable. She still doesn't know what happened to make it so her legs refuse to cooperate completely, but she just wants to be able to walk properly again.

Plus she misses going on runs.

She misses feeling normal.

Pushing open the door, she knows it'll take a lot more effort to even get a bath started, and she inwardly curses her situation at that moment.

Yes, she loves being at the estate, yes she loves being out of the realm, but even with the few chances she had having showers in the hotels around, she misses having running water accessible to her.

Why must everything be so goddamn hard lately?

Taking in a deep breath, she closes the door behind her as she leans against it, refusing to open her eyes and face herself in the small mirror she knows is right in front of her.

She has seen it plenty of times when she would wake up before Evan and go out for runs, or when she would just need water they stored in there in the middle of the night sometimes, or even if she needed a minute or two of space.

That didn't happen often, she knows, because when she wanted space, or when her mind started to become too much, all she wanted was Evan. She'd curl into him, fitting into the groove of his chest, his torso perfectly until he wrapped his arm around her so tight she felt like nothing in the world could harm her in that moment.

He made her feel safe, made her feel at home, and yet…

She tries not to think about how she hasn't had that the last few days when that's the one thing her body wants, craves. Being aware of how much she screwed things over, she doesn't want to think about it, not until she gets better and maybe they can leave and…

No.

Her mind shuts that closed like a book snapping shut.

She can't leave, can't leave this house, can't leave Evan.

Even if they are friends, which they have been for awhile…the thought of leaving him behind is too much.

Yes, through these last few days, the thought of giving up entirely has entered her mind, especially after her conversation with Nea, but it's nothing she made her mind up about, so she inhales deep, focusing on herself, wanting to wash off the extra blood and sweat and dirt from her body.

Take it one minute at a time, she tells herself.

She has been through worse…

But when she finally opens her eyes and sees herself in the mirror, her stomach flips uncomfortably at the scarred, bruised girl that stares back at her.

They never had mirrors in the Entity's realm, especially during a trial so she never had to see herself bleeding and broken, and once they were back at the campfire, it was like nothing changed in their physical appearance, but now…now she sees Jed's work up close - too close.

There is a white pad taped over her right eye, but even then, she can see a bit of the scar peek out from the bottom, scabbed over and puffy, and the rest of her face is discolored with deep shades of red, purple, and yellow. The cuts that run down her throat and onto her chest aren't as deep but still radiate hot pain when she moves, and as she lifts up her arm to her face, she lets out a hiss as one particularly deep cut pops open, leaking clear liquid before blood starts to bead from the reopened wound.

How….why…

She tries to blink away hot tears that form in her eyes after seeing herself, and she even tries to look straight down at the water that rests in a dark basin for her. It's still lukewarm, not too hot, but not too cold either, and she splashes it in her face without much thought.

It stings at her cuts, especially the deep one across her eye, the one that reminds her of Evan; the one scar she has traced with her finger so many times when they slept and now…

Tearing the gauze off, she begins rubbing vigorously at her face, causing a low-grade burning across her wounds, and her lungs begin to scream for air from the sudden increase of water across her face. She stops for a moment, not long enough to gather her thoughts, as she cups more water in her hands, splashing it across her arms that are still bandaged, and her ears are filled with the sound of water splashing on the floor more-so than on her own body itself.

Rubbing the lukewarm water across her sore cuts, she doesn't think about much. She merely watches as the water beads across her skin until she rubs just enough that a few of the cuts burst open once more and mix in with the clear water. Soon the basin water is tinted pink, but Meg doesn't mind as she scrubs at her arms, her face, her neck, and her chest, anywhere she can reach, but even then, it doesn't seem like enough.

She's still dirty, still bloody, still in need of being washed.

Her eye is swollen shut with the cut, but she can feel beads of hot blood begin to drip down her cold face, but she doesn't stop. She can't…not when that blood is pouring down. She needs to get rid of it, needs to be clean.

Needs to rid herself of Jed Olsen.

Of Herman Carter.

Of Feng.

Of that dank basement.

But the more she rubs, the pinker the water becomes until she feels some of the droplets fall onto her leggings like sparks of fire, burning her intact skin.

Why isn't it stopping?

She….

She just wants to get clean.

She just wants to be better.

She…

The basin full of reddening water crashes onto the ground after one forceful scoop and only then does Meg pause, bloody and soaked to the bone, and her eyes flicker up to the girl that watches her from the mirror.

It isn't her, or at least it can't be.

She's frozen, drenched like a wet dog, as she stands there, her hands in front of her shaking uncontrollably as blood still beads and slowly drips from her wounds that have only just begun to heal.

There's nothing in her mind that could take her away from the vision of her in the mirror, and in her mind, that could not be true. This is just a cruel dream, right? She has had weird dreams in the past week, this wouldn't be any different right?

There's no way her body is as mangled as it shows in the mirror, and as she reaches up to scratch at a bandage on her collarbone, she convinces herself that it's unnecessary.

Ripping it from her skin, she throws the bandage on the floor, and without a second thought begins tearing at the other wet bandages across her arms and chest, just wanting to get them off.

She's okay.

She's okay .

There's no questioning the deep and splitting cuts that riddle her feeble body, but she doesn't pay attention, no, she's been through worse.

Always has been through worse.

She thinks of the Trickster, that flamboyant K-Pop star they used to call him. He always threw small knives at them until it finally took them down and she remembers always looking like she had been cut up hundreds of times but…

No.

This isn't that.

She's okay, she has been in bed.

Just…she just wants to wash herself, why does everything feel like it's on fire?

She still wipes at her arms as she bends down to pick up the spilled basin now empty of water, and once she places it on the counter, her hands continue frantically moving across her arms and face.

There is a small, quiet knock at the door to the bathroom, but with Meg's frantic thoughts, she doesn't hear.

She just wants to be clean; be clean for the first time since the realm. Feel uninjured, feel safe, feel away from everything…

"Meg?"

There's a voice outside the door, Nea, she thinks, but she doesn't pay attention. Not when she has a more important task at hand. She frantically looks around for more water, more towels, more anything to help but when she sees nothing, she freezes.

Nea, who is outside the door, takes this moment to crack the door open, but the sudden noise only motivates Meg.

"I'm fine!" she yells, her voice full of distraction, full of pain, wavering with every breath.

"Meg, I'm coming in," Nea says, already pushing the door open, and although Meg turns around, almost wanting to stop the door from opening, she doesn't move, and she doesn't shove her foot in front of the door like she wants to.

She simply watches as Nea appears in the doorway with a concerned looking Claudette behind her.

The three girls stop, all staring at each other, like Meg will burst out of the room like a scared rabbit, and in that moment with all of Meg's nerves being on fire, she isn't sure if she could stay in a room with them looking at her like that.

She is used to Claudette's worried motherly look, but she can't say she has seen Nea's look too often. Worry etches deep lines into her face as she frowns at Meg, making her feel almost ashamed of being under such scrutiny.

So instead of saying anything, her mind defaults to nothingness, simply wanting to get clean. Quickly turning around, she resumes scrubbing at her arms with what little water is left on her skin.

"I'm fine," she mumbles, not wanting to turn around and see them looking at her like they just were, so she continues to try and wash herself despite there being no dirt left on her skin.

"Okay…" Nea begins slowly as she takes a step into the room, but Meg's eyes shoot up, meeting her gaze in the dusty mirror in front of her.

"I said I'm fine. Please. I just want to be left alone," Meg tries to say in a normal voice, but it only comes out like a quiet whimper so she clears her throat and swallows hard, continuing, "I'm fine. Just…"

A shadow overtakes the bathroom and before she can look up, she knows who is behind her already before he speaks.

"Meg?"

Evan.

She stops moving, but her heart rate only picks up, and she feels the need to cover herself, cover her injuries, hide herself away from him.

Under other circumstances, she knows he would take care of her but this…this is too much.

It's too much for her.

It's too much for him.

And he doesn't deserve to deal with her in this state, so she tries to look away as she makes a faint noise of acknowledgement.

"Meg, can I come in?"

Can he?

She doesn't know.

There's nothing that he hasn't seen before, but seeing her like this…

This is the first time she is seeing him since that night and she had so many things to say to him, so many apologies, so many confessions.

"I'm coming in," he says despite her not giving him permission, but as much as she realizes she should, she doesn't say a word.

She keeps scrubbing, her breath coming in waves as she mumbles to herself, blinking back tears that once flowed down her cheeks, but with Evan here, she doesn't want him to see this.

Evan is safe, she knows that, so she doesn't need to be worried, but he doesn't need to see her like this.

"I need to get clean. This isn't right. Just give me a minute, please, I just…"

"Meg," Evan says again, stepping inside the room but not closing the door, giving her a way out. She's grateful to not feel trapped, but he's seeing too much, too much of her that they never agreed on.

He never wanted this … a voice rings in her head.

You're just friends.

He doesn't need this mess.

"Meg, please," he reaches out, not touching her, but lifting his hands in the air, suspended waiting for her to reach out and grab them back despite them being now red and raw from her own blood, water, sweat, and tears that flow freely over her body at this point.

"I…" she begins to say, blinking back hot tears that burn her eyes. "I can't get clean."

Evan stands there for a moment, Meg's words floating between them as both the air and water grow colder, and eventually he reaches for a dark towel that rests beside him. He doesn't say anything as he stretches it out with his arms and takes a step towards Meg.

She's not clean enough, she thinks, but the way he holds the towel as a barrier, a safety net, she can't help but exhale slowly. Taking a tentative step forward, she isn't sure if she's ready, or if she wants to simply collapse in the arms that she has been away from for far too long, and as her eyes flicker up to his, her vision starts to darken.

He catches her quickly as she loses her balance, immediately wrapping the towel around her and lifting her up in his arms. She hears murmurs from her friends, words from Nea, from Claudette, but she doesn't focus on the words themselves as she leans against Evan's broad chest.

"It looks like we're not needed," Claudette says, a small smile on her face. "Evan, we'll be close in case you need us but," there is a pause, one that Meg doesn't pay attention to, "it looks like she's in good hands."

"Literally," Nea mutters as she rolls her eyes. "Just…let us know she's okay, okay? She's breathing?"

Evan pauses, holding Meg close to him, and she wants to talk, say yes, she's breathing, she's okay, but his warmth spreads through her so fast, her lips don't move as the familiar creak of their bed echoes through the room under his weight.

"Yes. I believe she just fainted. I'll let you know."

Fainted…

Meg wants to laugh, could laugh if her body wasn't screaming at her from every direction.

She's just as aware as she could be but….she can't open her eyes. Can't utter any words, can't get in enough breath, so she curls into Evan, absorbing him as much as possible as he leans forward, resting his own chin on her head and running his hands through her hair and along her face.

Her very soul, shattered beyond belief begins to slowly come back together, fitting like puzzle pieces within herself until it feels healed, complete on its own and yet companioned, warmed by Evan's very existence. If she were to go blind, she is sure she would be able to feel his presence, smell his very being, recognize the gentle touch of his fingers, and feel the way his breath cools on her face.

Her eyes are closed, remain closed, and she doesn't want to open them, not now, not ever, but as Evan wipes gentle circles around her face with his hands - the only hands she'd ever recognize, the force, the size, the way the air moves between them - her hyperventilating slows. She begins to regain her surroundings, the surroundings with Evan there beside her, nothing else, and she knows she is safe.

She isn't aware of how much time has passed but finally her breathing has slowed down and the loud ringing in her ears has lessened until all she hears is Evan's heartbeat, strong and steady, beating in sync with hers.

"Meg?" Evan asks finally, his voice is quiet and full of uncertainty that Meg has never heard come from him.

Meg breathes in calmly, once, before slowly exhaling and replying as though reading his mind,"I'm okay."

She doesn't say anything more, trying not to think too much about what happened as she just wants to exist.

Exist in Evan's arms, protected, safe, and maybe for just a moment, she can pretend that the last ten years were just a bad dream. Her friends and Evan, they are safe and whole and they can continue to live like normal people.

Wouldn't that be the dream?

But until Meg has to think about what happened in the other room, or the last week, or even begin to comprehend what might lie ahead, she will enjoy tonight finally with Evan.

She doesn't even think to ask him where he has been, or why she has woken up alone so many times the last few days; that is a conversation for tomorrow. She's just glad he's there now.

Giving her a gentle squeeze, Evan lifts his head from hers and begins to stand up, gently placing her on the bed.

"Stay here for a moment."

"You're not leaving, are you?" Meg asks, trying to hold the sting of abandonment at bay before she even knows where he's going.

"No," Evan answers quickly. "No, I will be right back."

"Oh, okay," Meg whispers, trying to give him a reassuring smile as he nods and returns her smile before quickly rushing out the door.

"I'm just getting something from the other room," she hears him yell down the hallway, and immediately she finds herself smiling at the gesture.

He's never been one to yell or even talk loudly without reason, and yet he is simply keeping her in the loop on where he is because even he knows she needs that in that moment.

It's sweet, and she closes her eyes as her heart skips a beat at the thought.

She doesn't have much time to think about it before he rushes back in and closes the door behind him before walking back over to the bed. Meg watches as he walks around and slowly climbs in the bed until he is leaning against the wooden headboard. Gesturing for her to come sit in between his outstretched legs, she scoots closer without question until her back bumps into his chest.

With a low chuckle, Evan speaks again, catching Meg by surprise. "Scoot a little farther forward. Trust me."

Although her whole being doesn't want to move from his back, enjoying the way his chest sends waves of comfort through, she moves forward without objection, and soon Evan's large hands cup her head, slowly pulling all of her hair back so it drapes behind her instead of along her chest.

And that's when she feels the brush begin to run from the top of her scalp down her hair, slowly detangling the last few day's worth of tangles in her wild hair. She can't say she even noticed the brush when he came in, but that's not what she was focusing on, but she doesn't care as cool shivers flow down her head and into her back at the soft brushing.

She closes her eyes and leans her head back a bit to give Evan more leverage as he continues his movements, brushing slowly down and bringing the brush back up, and every time he does, he hums a small song that gets quieter when it reaches the ends of her hair and picks up when he begins on a new section.

"What's that song?" Meg asks, curiosity finally getting the best of her as she listens to his deep voice hum a slow, sad melody.

"Oh," Evan stops, clearing his throat. "It's a song my mother used to sing when she would brush and braid her hair in the evenings."

Meg lets out a thoughtful hum and closes her eyes, waiting for Evan to continue the song, but when the brushing resumes and the song doesn't, she frowns.

"Well there's no need to stop. I like it."

The brush catches on a small tangle in Meg's hair and with a hiss, Evan lays a hand on her head before gently caressing her scalp along with the part of her hair that got tangled. He resumes his brushing and hums one note then stops completely once more as he sets the brush down on the bed.

Meg begins to turn her head, but Evan's fingers keep her head in place as he begins to section her hair, and soon she thinks she feels him braid her hair. Her hand flies up to feel one half-finished braid on the side of her head, and her mouth parts with surprise.

"Where did you learn to braid?" She blurts out, feeling how soft and smooth the braid feels against her skin.

"My mother taught me," he begins. "Since I used to watch her all the time, I was fascinated. Plus," he pauses as a small chuckle escapes from his chest, "she told me that my future wife would appreciate it."

Before Meg could think about what she's saying, she replies with a smile.

"Well, I do. Thank you."

Not thinking of the implications of her words, Evan pauses in his finishing touches of Meg's braids, and as he clears his throat, he continues, not addressing Meg's last comment.

"Honestly, I didn't know if I remembered, but sitting here with you, it all came back so naturally, so…" there's a pause as he ties one of her braids in a small elastic, "thank you." He finishes the other and ties it quickly, letting her braid fall against her shoulder as he exhales slowly.

"Thank you," Meg mutters as she reaches up to run a hand over her newly prepared braids. "I…"

"You don't have to say anything," Evan interrupts as he shifts behind her on the bed. She still doesn't look at him, doesn't want to face him, so she continues to face the dark wall on the other side of the room. A small sound escapes Evan's chest before he swallows loudly, clearing his throat in the process. The bed shifts slightly under his weight, and she can almost imagine him straightening his back as all the muscles in his neck tense up.

She finds her lips tugging into a smile as she pictures his insecure and awkward stance he takes when things get a little too personal, a little too real. There needs to be a conversation, or at least she hopes there will be at some point, but right then, her head droops and her eyes feel heavy, and the last thing she wants is to talk about her own breakdown, their talk before…everything, and her own trauma that happened without him.

Suddenly, that's too much, and all she wants is to enjoy the feeling of having him in her space after being left alone for so long. Her heart beats loudly in her chest as she takes in a long, shaky breath before gaining the courage to slowly turn her head over her shoulder towards him.

"I missed you," she says, like it is the most obvious thing in the world. "And I'm tired, and don't want to pretend I didn't."

Evan opens his mouth for a moment, before closing it tight and frowning at Meg, his brow scrunching together as it does when he is at a loss for words.

"I missed you, too," he whispers, slowly pulling his hands around her and moving her closer to him until she is right up against his broad chest.

The silence is comfortable as Meg closes her eyes, not wanting to move, as she falls asleep, relaxed, for the first time in what feels like a lifetime away from him.

—

Chirping birds, soft wind outside, and slow exhales of breath surround Meg as she begins to wake up, and for once, she doesn't remember her dream, or if she dreamt at all, which is a miracle.

Gentle fingers trace her arm along scabbed over wounds, sending shivers through her body as they make their way up to her neck, hesitating slightly until they relax and a whole hand cups her jaw as a thumb rubs her cheek softly.

She would notice his hands anywhere, and knowing that she is waking up with Evan beside her feels like a security blanket as he exhales slowly, his breath tickling at the baby hairs surrounding her forehead.

At some point in the night, they managed to untangle themselves and lie down, sleeping pressed close together, both afraid that if they let go, the other would somehow disappear from their arms once again, slipping through their fingers like smoke.

Meg craved Evan in his absence but with everything that happened, she couldn't bring herself to even get out of bed, let alone talk to him, so when he appeared to her last night, that's all she wanted.

Deciding to finally open her eyes, she exhales slowly as Evan's arms tighten around her, pulling her even closer than before, but she lets out a hiss when his arm rests on a particularly deep cut on her side.

Immediately, his arm disappears from her side and he flies up, "Meg, I'm so sorry," he begins apologizing.

"No, no, it's okay," she responds, just wanting the warmth and weight of him back. "I'm okay."

Rolling on her back, Meg looks up, their eyes meeting, and waves of emotion come flooding through Meg simply by looking at his green eyes with the gold flecks.

There was a time a few days ago where she thought she'd never see them again, and as he stares at her, she can't get herself to pull away.

Without looking away, he lifts up a hand and gently runs it down her face, carefully avoiding the cuts as he runs it along her neck, down her shoulder, to rest on her side, sending pleasant shivers through Meg's body that brings tears to her eyes and stings her nose.

"You're crying," he says quietly, bringing his hand back to wipe away a tear that leaks from the corner of her eye.

"I just…"

Knock knock knock

"Meg?" Kate calls from the other side of the door, surprising both Meg and Evan, the two of them stopping in their tracks, and Meg can't help but laugh at how similar this moment feels as her mind takes her back to the first time she woke up beside him in the hotel.

He seems to understand too as a small smile appears along with his dimple.

Not wanting this moment to end, she sighs, clearing her throat before responding.

"Yeah?" She tries to yell, but her voice cracks and sounds more like a grunt than anything.

"We have a small surprise for everyone downstairs if you want to join. It'll be fun," says while knocking once more as though Meg would have gone back to sleep if she didn't. "Only if you want to, of course. No pressure, Hun, just thought…" her voice fades out, looking for an answer that Meg isn't sure of.

Looking at Evan, she feels as though leaving him in that moment would be like tearing a limb from her body. She can't leave him, not again, so instead of saying anything, she waits for Evan to make that decision for her.

"Go," he whispers as he tilts his head towards the door. "It'll be nice for you, I promise."

"Oh, you do? And how do you even know what it is?" Meg asks, her voice scratchy as she talks.

"Trust me."

Taking in a moment to breathe, she looks at Evan, her eyes narrowing, waiting for him to change his mind, and when he doesn't, she can't help but feel a little bit disappointed he doesn't want…whatever this is to keep going.

"Meg?" Kate calls again, clearly not letting her get away with no answer.

"I'm getting up," she calls back, still not looking away from Evan, but when his smile widens and he sits up, she takes that as a sign to follow suit.

Evan is the first out of bed, as it takes Meg a few tries to sit up on her own with the way her body tenses up with every movement, and every open wound feels like it's on fire, but she grinds her teeth, trying to ignore the pain. Getting herself into a sitting position, Evan is already around to her side of the bed, offering a hand to help her up. Flicking her eyes down to his hand and back up, she gives him a smile, thankful for the help.

Before grabbing his hand, she quickly brushes stray hairs from her face, and mentally prepares herself to get out of bed for the second time in the last few days, which shouldn't seem like much to her, and she's angry at herself for making it feel like a big deal.

For a moment, she's almost tempted not to grab Evan's hand, just try once on her own, but when she looks up at him and sees his usual small scowl on his face when something doesn't go his way, her smile widens, and grabs his hand just to make him feel happy helping her up.

Her muscles groan in protest but she manages to stand up on her first try, even if she wobbles a little, but Evan is there, steadying her before she gives him a nod.

She's okay, she's steady. He lets go, his fingertips lingering on her arms just a little too long as she hobbles over to the door, seeing Kate still waiting patiently on the other side.

"Ready?"

Meg nods and looks back at Evan, waiting for him to come along, but when he shakes his head, she frowns.

"You're not coming?"

"No," he replies, still walking behind her. "I'll be up here. Go have fun with your friends."

She wants to protest, but Kate takes that opportunity to wrap her arm around Meg's waist and begin pulling her away from the door with a small wave.

"Thanks, Evan," Kate says as she leads Meg towards the stairs, and before her own mind can catch up with what is happening, Kate is already helping her down the stairs and away from their room.

It's fine, she tells herself. Evan will be there after whatever is going on; he's not going anywhere.

He's not going to disappear again.

Swallowing growing anxiety in her chest, she takes Kate's help as she descends the stairs into the foyer, and then outside.

Immediately as the door opens, she hears her friends, some bickering, some laughing, others scoffing, and in an instant, her panic subsides, knowing she is safe here, and she is just excited to be around her friends once again.

Once Kate gets her on the porch, she hears David

"Oi! Took ya long enough. Hope ya had a good sleep. Wish I could get one of those."

"David…" Dwight hisses. "Glad you're feeling better, Meg."

"How do you know she's feeling better? Pretty presumptuous of you, kid," Ace laughs, nudging Dwight hard in the side, causing him to stumble a bit into David. "But true. We missed ya, Red. We can't have you dying on us now."

"Ace, come on," Kate groans beside Meg as she helps her down the bottom stair, and Meg can't help but let out a loud laugh. At first it comes out like a loud cough until Meg gets her bearings, but soon she smiles at them, even if they are standing there like an audience.

"I'm not dead yet, stop staring at me like I am," she croaks out, and with that, Nea, David, and Ace all let out small cheers as they turn towards a small table. Kate, Dwight, and Claudette on the other hand still look at her, concern clear as day on their faces at the way Meg stumbles slightly down the porch. "I'm fine guys, really," she says, trying to reassure them with a feeble thumbs up, which seems to do the trick at that moment.

Dwight breaks from David's side to help Meg into the yard along with Kate, and soon Meg notices what is on the table that everyone seems to crowd around. Waving away the help of her friends, she stops near the house as they all quiet down.

"So, what is all of this?" Meg asks, leaning against the wall for support as she looks on at the table full of plates, cups, dishes, glasses, vases, and other objects made of glass that she can't even decipher in that moment.

"Well, we felt like we could use a little stress reliever. With everything that has gone on…well, for years, we felt like it would be nice to let out some stress."

"And break some shit," David chimes in, already picking up a big white dinner plate and gripping it so hard in his hand, his knuckles turn white, and Meg thinks it'll break in his grip before he even has the chance to throw it.

"I also heard if you yell at what you're upset about while breaking it, it could help," Claudette chimes in, much to Meg's surprise.

"Are you actually going to break things too?" Meg asks, shocked to see Claudette reach for a small clear drinking glass. "I just thought…"

"I was against it at first, but when Evan gathered up dishes he didn't want and we don't really need, it just seemed like it could be cathartic."

Nea nods as David focuses on the brick wall in front of him, not seeming to hear Claudette as his breathing gets deeper and more intense with every passing second.

"Since it's Mama Claudette approved, then who am I to refuse?" Meg laughs out although she knows that she would want to smash anything in sight whether it was approved or not, so she grabs a small white dinner plate.

"The only rule we came up with is that we can't repeat anything," Kate chimes in, already holding a small tea cup, "We all know we have very similar things to be mad about in the realm, so this can be helpful to think of other things than just that. Of course we can mention the realm, but, anyways, this is supposed to be….nice."

"No, I think that sounds fine. We all know it sucked being tortured and killed every day, so it wouldn't help for everyone to say variations of that, right?" Nea says, tossing a saucer between her hands. "Let's get down to the nitty gritty. I want to yell."

Kate and Claudette smile and nod while the others take in a deep breath, silently agreeing with Nea as they swarm the table, carefully picking the first thing they want to break before getting back into a line, all facing the wall.

Meg's heart beats so fast in her ears as she stares at the wall, thinking of what she wants to say, there being so much swimming in her mind.

There is so much for her to be mad at, she knows it, and her stomach flips anticipating the first ear-piercing shattering sound of glass hitting the brick, but no one goes first, no matter how much David and Nea seemed impatient to start.

The group stands facing the wall, and with each passing second, their breathing slows until it reminds Meg of being in a trial. She can feel her friends, all of them, beside her but no one dares move a muscle.

She feels Claudette's tensed muscles, always wanting to shrink away from danger but sticking it out for the greater part of the team. She feels Nea's weight shift into her toes, ready to run away at a moment's notice silently, and, quite the opposite, she senses David's weight digging into the Earth, solid, angry.

Senses she hasn't been used to using in a while tingle at every inch of her, and it takes everything in her not to begin to turn around frantically looking for whatever killer would sneak up on them.

She hears her heartbeat loud in her ears, but that's it, all silence drowning any sound and she is about to just go first, break the plate without saying anything just to break this silence, but then a small flower pot goes crashing into the wall.

"I wish I didn't waste my life working retail," Dwight yells, his voice carrying louder than the crashing plate, but somehow as everyone turns to look at him, it feels like something cracks collectively within all of them.

Dwight doesn't pay attention to them as he walks over to the table and grabs a tea saucer, resuming his stance, staring at the wall, not noticing everyone looking at him until slowly they all turn to look at the wall too.

"I wish I had enough time to make an album," Kate goes next, throwing her tea cup.

"I wish I could have gotten my degree in botany," Claudette cries, a couple of tears already streaming down her face as she throws her small glass.

Meg is surprised that the three calmest of the group go first, but it feels good, comforting almost that they're going. She's in a safe space, and it feels good to hear about her friends, good and bad, and hopefully they can all move past this when this is over.

"I wish I made more of a name for myself," David goes next, his plate shattering so hard against the wall, Meg feels a small glass shard hit her ankle from the ricochet force.

"I wish I didn't spend so much time on the streets," Nea yells next, and it almost shocks Meg thinking about all the times she had talked about her time with her gangs she would join or found. They were never violent, being more interested in tagging abandoned places more-so than anything, but she never really thought of why Nea would never want to be at home, and in the years Meg has known her, she is almost ashamed she never realized.

Blinking back tears from the realization from Nea, Meg decides to go next, already knowing what she would say, wanting to say it for as long as she could remember.

"I wish I had more time to say goodbye," she cries, throwing her plate. As it smashes against the wall, and as the ceramic cup meets the brick, time seems to slow for her, not for long, but she feels her heart beat slowly, her breathing slow, and she watches as the glass smashes, small pieces flying in every direction like a perfect painting. It feels good to admit it out loud, even without detail, and no one questions her admission as time catches up to her like a tape being pressed play and suddenly, she sighs, quickly wiping the tears that stream down her face.

"I wish I didn't leave my loved ones with so much debt," Ace says, not as loud, not as angry, but the way the wine glass speeds towards the wall, Meg feels the emotion behind it.

"I want to go home but I don't know if any of my family would recognize me," Dwight goes again.

"I want to go home but I don't know if I'd even be welcomed," Nea bounces off Dwight's idea, flinging her next ceramic vase before Dwight could even finish his sentence.

"What Nea said," David says.

"I want to go home but I don't know if anyone is left," Meg says, thinking about her mom, not being able to say goodbye, and not having anyone else there to get in touch with…she doesn't know where to start.

If she doesn't reach out, she can think her mom is alive, her mom is safe, but if she reaches out…she's scared of what she might find out…but she can't say she doesn't miss her hometown.

Sure, there wasn't much there for her, or good memories, but she misses the trails in the woods that lead to the perfect spots by the water, and the little diner she worked at for six months where the kind owner would give her free food to take home for her and her mom, and the small gas station she used to run to when she had nowhere else to go and it was late at night.

There were things she missed, and although she loves being here with her friends, with Evan, learning more about them without the worries of trials, Issaquah hasn't quite warmed up to her yet and all she wants is to be somewhere familiar after so long.

She doesn't even know what it means to be somewhere familiar.

"I'm scared of continuing my education because how do I explain being gone for over a decade? I want to go home and see my parents and I want to cook with my dad and…" Claudette says, interrupting Meg from her thoughts with her small lantern clattering against the wall. The glass doesn't break, and that seems to snap Claudette out of her ramble with a small sigh as she nods and sniffles, wiping her eyes quickly before turning around and getting another plate.

"I love taking care of people but I miss having my parents to take care of me," she continues, not letting anyone else go as she throws the plate with an abnormally loud crash.

Everyone in line pauses, taking in Claudette's confession and anger, letting it simmer in the air before anyone goes again. It seems to help, solidarity in silence, as Claudette huffs and lets out a small laugh.

"Okay guys, you can go, I'm good," she says with a sad smile, still wiping away another tear. Kate and Dwight, who stand on either side of her, grab her hands while shuffling their objects into their other arms, and Meg gives her a reassuring pat as she decides to go back to the table, passing her on the way. Grabbing a large stained white platter with ugly yellow flowers, Meg resumes her spot and waits for other confessions.

"I miss feeling like I can't relax. I hate that we spent so much of our time unsafe and now…it's just the same as before," Dwight yells louder than Meg has ever heard him. He sounds commanding, a leader, and it surprises her even after all the years of knowing him.

"I hate not being in control," David says, throwing a cup, and when Meg looks, he has an armful of small tea cups that he continues to toss after every continuous sentence. "I hate staying here like a sitting duck." Another cup. "I hate that I can't protect the ones I care about." Another cup. "I hate that I feel so goddamn useless here." And the last one is thrown and as Meg looks to her left, only Nea, Ace, and her have anything left in their hands.

"I feel like my life has been for nothing," Ace goes first, not waiting for Nea, and for a moment as he throws his platter, he looks at Nea and sighs as though he was glad he wasn't the last one to go.

"I just want us to be safe, and I don't know if that's possible," Meg interrupts, throwing her platter, and she almost feels bad when she hears a few sad murmurs of agreement from her friends at her confession, but she calms herself by thinking that this is what this is for.

Letting things out.

Some things they can talk about, other's no, but maybe it'll make everyone not feel so alone.

"Well shit, I just miss going out. I want to go out to clubs, go shopping, go to bars and get drunk and not have to worry about being killed," Nea says, not as angry as her other confessions, and that makes Ace and David let out a laugh when her platter doesn't even break against the wall.

"Hey we've been to bars so far," David chimes in, nudging Nea with his elbow.

"Yeah but like, a bar at night, or a club, and actually, I don't know, going out to places without constantly looking over my shoulder."

"Well, let's go to the bars here in Issaquah, they weren't so bad, and if anyone tries to mess with us, you know those bartenders pack some heat," David says with a shrug and a laugh until Meg looks over and smiles.

"Didn't you two get kicked out of almost every bar here? Do you really think they'll let you back in?" She says scrunching her brow at him, remembering when she found the two of them stumbling out of a bar what seems like so long ago.

"No, well yes, but see a few nights ago we found this underground one, oh man we got fucked and-"

As though something squeezes David's throat, he stops, and wide-eyed, he looks at Meg, followed by Nea and Dwight, who exchange glances between the three of them.

Why're they acting so suspicious?

Meg looks between them and then at Claudette and Kate for help, who surprisingly look away, Claudette rubbing her arms together and Kate scratching the back of her head, and only then does Meg realize why David stopped.

"Ah…because you guys went the night…" Meg still can't say it out loud, "it... happened."

No one moves, and their silence is answer enough as Meg nods slowly.

The last few minutes brought up memories, feelings she didn't want to feel, but she tries to think of everything before. The glass and ceramic breaking. The confessions, admissions of guilt, of grief, and it helps dissipate Meg's own feelings, knowing that her own friends have things going on and she can focus on something else but her own trauma.

She just hates feeling like they're treating her like a fragile child.

Admitting now that she's not okay, she knows she can get there…hopefully…but it'll take time, and hearing something other than her own trauma, her own torture, helped today, so she gives David a smile and small nudge.

"Well, if it worked so much, getting into that bar, you're gonna have to take me next time, okay?"

As though David is equally as grateful Meg didn't bring up everything else that happened, he lets out a loud laugh and nudges her back before throwing an arm around her shoulders and bringing her in for a side hug.

"It didn't feel the same without ya. Just say the word and we'll go," he says, giving Meg a forceful enough hug. Her bruises and bones twinge with pain with every squeeze but she tries her best not to show it. Gritting her teeth, she lets out a smile, just wanting to enjoy this moment and willing all she can for her pain to be gone, if only for a few seconds with her friends, and soon the group exhales as though letting out a collective sigh.

Although with everything that had been shouted and screamed and cried out, Meg feels lighter. She can't say it didn't feel good to let out her own biggest regrets and wants in life, and with the satisfying breaking of glass and ceramic, it helped with so much more than she could ever put into words.

Not being in control of herself, her injuries, her emotions this last week, it felt good to be able to break something herself, having total control of herself, her feelings, her anger. She was able to let it out in a safe space, one for her and her friends, with all of them not dwelling on their own issues but sharing them with the group, it felt nice.

Claudette and Kate were right, Meg has to laugh at herself, it was cathartic.

Beginning to hobble over to the door, she wants to tell Evan about this experience, wondering why he didn't come down and participate himself, although she knows it really wouldn't be his thing.

The only time he has come out and said anything ground-breaking was when he was either drinking or when they both had found something from his past that caused him to spiral out of control.

Meg's stomach grips, wishing he could admit to his own trauma as easily as the rest of her friends, and although she knows it doesn't even begin to scratch the surface of their emotions, it is a nice start to get out in the open. Yell and break things and get it out in the open.

It seems like something her own mom would do, and she's almost surprised that they never did that when they were younger.

Her mom was always wanting Meg to express her feelings more, get them out, but she never wanted to until it was too late and she ended up blowing up on her coach, or boss, or own mother. Doing this exercise with her friends, her new family, feels great, but she wishes she would have tried something like this all the way back then.

Who knows where she'd be if she just let things go…

No - she shakes her head - she can't think about that, not after how light and freeing she feels right now, so instead she turns to hobble inside as she hears her friends begin to talk.

"No, no," Claudette waves off Ace and Kate, "I don't mind cleaning up," Claudette speaks up as the group begins to dissipate. "We can't just leave this glass and ceramic for the ground but I got it."

Almost everyone in the group begins to chime in except David and Dwight who are too far away by then, already whispering in each other's ears and holding each other close, but quickly Claudette brushes them off.

"No, it's okay."

"No, honey, I'm going to help," Kate says sternly, not giving Claudette a chance to refuse before she begins to pick up large pieces of glass in her arms.

Claudette pauses for a moment, wanting to protest, but a small smile appears on her face as she nods and begins cleaning up too.

Meg notices, and feels bad for beginning to leave without even thinking about how it would get cleaned up. She begins to take a step towards the two girls but is quickly stopped by Nea.

"No, you need rest. I'll stay behind and help but you've exerted yourself enough," she says, crossing her arms and raising an eyebrow at Meg.

"I-"

"Nope. Go. The first time you're out of bed for good shouldn't be to clean."

"Nea, I'll be fine," Meg tries to reassure, but when she begins to cough and her chest tightens just a bit, Nea takes it upon herself to grab Meg's shoulders and practically has to push her inside.

"No, inside. I'll come check on you later," Nea says with one last shove before practically closing the door in her face, leaving Meg standing alone in the foyer, and without a second thought, she turns around, knowing the next thing she wants to do is see Evan again.

Thinking about their, or rather - her - outburst last night, she just wants to check in on him, make sure he's okay, just like how he's been looking over her for so long, but as she ascends the stairs, there's a weird feeling in the air.

Suffocating insecurity floats around her, trying to push her to the ground, but she keeps walking, taking one step at a time until she reaches their room upstairs.

Standing in front of the door, any other time she would walk inside with ease, push open the door like it was her own as much as it was Evan's, and even that thought alone twists her stomach uncomfortably.

Maybe she got too comfortable, too used to sharing too many intimate things with Evan, and now that it feels like everything changed, she isn't ready to face that. A deep feeling in her gut tells her that they need to talk, and it should happen soon, even now, and with a shaky breath she takes a moment to herself.

As long as she stands outside, it is both her room, and not hers all at once, and she doesn't know what would make her feel better in that moment.

But as she hears muffled footsteps on the other side of the door, without thinking she pushes it open knowing that the more she stands there thinking about it, the more she won't ever go inside again.

The door creaks open, echoing around the room like a manifestation of Meg's anxiety, but as she stares forward, seeing Evan standing opposite of her looking out the window, he doesn't move almost like he didn't hear her even come inside.

Taking a few steps into the room, Meg takes in a shaky breath as she looks between the messy bed from where she slept only a few hours ago to where Evan stands staring out the window, lost in thought.

He makes no indication that he hears her come in, and for just a second, she thinks that she could just back out, close the door slowly, and come back to this later, but instead, she feels frozen.

Thinking about this morning and how comfortable and how warm everything was around them, that feels like ages ago, like that wasn't the current Meg and current Evan.

Those were strangers, and this feels…unnatural.

They didn't talk after what happened last night with her panic attack, or anything that happened before she left, or why he hadn't been in to see her for days, and suddenly, there is so much hanging in the air between them, she feels like there is a wall she can't get herself over.

So she stands in the doorway, watching how his shoulders slowly rise and fall, his posture straight, with his hands behind his back. His whole aura feels like the businessman he never got the chance to be as she stands there, a bundle of nerves firing in every direction.

He said once how when he was a kid, he would watch his father stare out the window so lost in thought, he wouldn't even know Evan was there, and how Archie looked so larger than life, that just his presence made Evan feel small, insignificant.

It breaks Meg's heart to think that there may be some similarities between his father and him after all.

Clearing her throat, she pushes that thought from her mind, reminding herself that Evan and his father are completely different people, and that she has nothing to be scared of.

Not with Evan.

But this is a complete one-eighty from just an hour ago and how they smiled at each other, staring into his eyes…

"Are you okay?" She finally asks softly, taking a small step into the room as she gently runs a hand over her braided hair from last night, something that gives her comfort.

Evan visibly tenses even from where Meg is standing like he truly didn't know she was there, and although they have barely gone the last week before this incident without being apart, she keeps her distance. She wants to reach out to him, rest her hand on his arm and have him pull her close, but something holds her back as Evan doesn't turn around.

He stares out into the trees, the sun illuminating his giant frame.

"Evan?"

A few beats of silence fall between them, Meg's heart pumping fast in her chest and just as she is about to take a step closer, Evan speaks up.

"I've been thinking…" he begins, but he stops talking, his voice clipped, and it twists Meg's stomach, worried about what he will say. She doesn't even begin to imagine the possibilities, so instead she stays stationary, still in time waiting for him to continue, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

He could be kicking her out.

He could be telling her that their friendship - whatever it is - is over and he doesn't want anything to do with her, especially after how she behaved.

She basically admitted that she had feelings, complicated feelings, but feelings nonetheless, and he pushed her away.

Then she went off and was taken, kidnapped, tortured.

It's hard to separate those events in her mind, and no matter how much she tells herself that it wasn't her fault, the fact that she was taken because she refused to wake him up, refused to give in to her own pride after that…

But before she can get any farther in her thoughts, Evan finally speaks up.

"I'm relieved that you're okay, more than relieved, in fact, but, Meg, why didn't you tell me you were going out that night?"

"What do you mean?" Meg asks despite knowing full well what he is referring to. All of the thoughts from before fire through her mind, but she doesn't know if she can say it out loud.

"After the night we had, sharing so many things about ourselves, why did you go off and follow your friend without telling me?"

Meg's breath catches in her chest and she falters. She knows she was in the wrong, but after everything she just doesn't want to remember.

Overall, setting aside everything that happened between her and Evan, she wanted to think she could trust Feng, trust someone she spent a decade with, but…

When she thinks about it, the reasoning falls flat in her mind and she is left opening and closing her mouth trying to look for an answer.

"I would have gone with you," Evan says, a hint of pain in his voice that stabs Meg to her very core.

"I know," Meg mutters, swallowing down the guilt she has felt since that night, "But after everything we said that night, it just seemed…"

Her voice trails off as she blinks back tears, feeling the rejection, the hesitation in Evan's tone when all she wanted was to stay with him.

All she wanted was him.

"But why does it matter if I tell you where I'm going? Yes, something horrible-" Meg closes her eyes trying to keep the memories at bay.

The pain.

The torture.

The smell of her own blood and vomit stinging her lungs.

Jed's face.

Herman's hands.

Evan lets her take all the time she needs to as he finally turns around to face her. His brow furrowed as he stares at her, an odd expression on his face.

"I got into trouble," she finally continues, "But there have been other times I've been out and nothing has happened. You made it clear that it doesn't matter if I stay or go, so…I wanted to go see where Feng was going."

"What?" Evan chokes out, his voice strained.

"I didn't know Feng would have-"

"I don't care about Feng," Evan interrupts, taking a couple of steps towards Meg, closing the cold distance between them. "Do you feel as though I don't care what you do? Whether you stay or leave?"

"I mean, that's basically what you said. Stay or go, you're going to be here and it's not worth it to follow me. So maybe I took it upon myself to figure out something on my own."

"I would never feel like that," Evan whispers, closing the distance between them as he takes one of her braids within his fingers. "I am terribly sorry if that's what it sounded like because, Meg, I never want to leave your side. I don't want you to leave."

"What does it matter?"

"What does it matter?" Evan repeats her question like all the air was squeezed from his lungs. "Meg, you mean the world to me. You matter more than anything."

Meg's heart picks up as she unconsciously takes a step closer, so close that she isn't touching him, but she can feel every inch of him encompass her body as she cranes her neck to stare into his eyes. His beautiful green eyes, and her eyes roam the various scars that all seem to point to his lips.

"I was a fool not to have told you sooner, to push you away," he whispers out, his voice sharp like the words coming from his mouth hurt him to say as he runs a thumb down the side of Meg's face, right next to the scar across her eye, "To think that all of this could have been avoided if I wasn't such a selfish coward."

"I don't think you're selfish or a coward," Meg says, swallowing back tears, "I just didn't know how you felt, or feel. I-"

"Oh, Meg," Evan breathes out in a small laugh before looking at her straight in her eyes, "Do I still need to spell it out for you?" he continues, his voice low as his hand drops from her face and snakes its way behind her back, pulling her closer to him by nothing more than an inch, but to Meg it feels closer than anything she has ever felt.

Her mouth is dry, and she takes in a shaky breath before continuing.

"Spell it out for me."

And with those words, his lips come crashing down on hers roughly, working together in harmony.

His are rough, just like she always thought, but she can't get enough, wanting to be encompassed, inhaled by him as her lips work against his.

"I-" Evan tries to say, his words swallowed by Meg's neediness to just be with him. She feels his lips curl into a smile against hers, and she can't help but reflect the feeling, happiness bubbling through her whole body until tears start to form in her eyes.

His broad hands roam her body, making their way from her mid-back up to her shoulders, dragging her shirt along with his movements. Meg shivers at the cold wind hitting her bare back, but she doesn't care as she leans more against him, her cheeks turning red as her tongue licks his lips, and instinctively, his mouth opens, welcoming her in.

Her heart beats so fast, she can feel it in her fingers, in her toes, and she's certain Evan can feel it too. But maybe, maybe she feels his own heartbeat as his hot breath mixes in with hers, and she can't believe she's kissing him.

Kissing Evan MacMillan.

Kissing The Trapper.

But she can't stop, and she doesn't recognize these feelings that overtake her as Evan's hands move back down her and rest on her lower back, pulling her into him.

The fabric between them rubs Meg's tender skin and stings at her wounds but all she wants is to be closer, get closer, devour Evan and have him hold her so tight, he never lets go.

Evan pulls away, his breathing rapid, as he takes Meg's face within his hands, drawing small circles on her cheeks with his thumbs. He looks like he is about to say something, but Meg doesn't let him pull away, not now, not after everything, not when all she needs is him.

Evan chuckles deep in his chest as he closes his eyes and inhales deep before giving her another kiss and pulling away by barely an inch.

"There is no one I would rather spend my life with," he says in between small kisses, their lips curling into smiles while pressing their faces together. He almost sounds out of breath as he continues, "Meg Thomas, my god, how I love you."

Meg freezes, her lips still on his but the kissing stops, her whole body both feeling too warm and too cold at the same time, and then she pulls away slowly, breathlessly.

"You what?"

"I-" Evan begins to say but he clears his throat as though the words were caught, refusing to come out into the open again. "I am sorry if that's too much," he pauses once more as he removes one hand and threads it through her hair, gripping her tight as he speaks. His eyes water as he looks down at her and with a small shrug like he doesn't have anything more to say, he just lets out a small sad laugh. "You don't have to say it back, nor do you have to feel the same but I can't bear the thought of never being able to tell you. I simply adore everything about you."

"Evan…" Meg's heart beats so loud in her ears that she can hardly think.

But that's the thing, isn't it?

She doesn't have to think, she has known all along. It has been bright as day, loud as a siren, for weeks now. She has known how she feels., and part of her has known how Evan feels too.

Her stomach grips when she thinks how long it has taken but here they are, Evan's breath on her face, the taste of his lips fresh on hers and that's all she needs to know.

Reminiscent of the first time the electricity was blaring between them, Evan slowly raises his other hand and curls a strand of hair around his finger, before brushing it behind her ear as he exhales slowly, breaking the silence between them."We can stop this at any point. We can stop now if you want. I never wanted to force myself on you-"

Meg doesn't let him say anything more, grateful that he cares, he has always been attentive to her, but that's not what she needs right now. She simply needs him as she grabs his head and pulls it down to meet hers as she stands on the top of her toes, digging her fingers into his shoulders for balance. Although she closes her eyes, she can feel his gaze on her for a moment before slowly closing his eyes, melting into her touch.

"I want to stay with you, wherever we are," Meg finally says, tears filling her eyes as she pulls away to look at him, really look at him as he holds her up. "Evan MacMillan, you…you are the worst, most infuriating person I've ever known, and even with our past…" Meg chokes on her words, not expecting every emotion to hit her like a punch in the gut.

Evan lets out a deep chuckle, still pulling her close while running his fingers along her jaw and into her hair.

"Just what anyone wants to hear," he laughs softly but Meg ignores it, continuing despite his interjection, an example of what she was just talking about.

"But I love you. Fuck, I love you and I-"

That's all Evan needs to hear as he pulls away, his breathing rapid and shallow as he stares at Meg, his pupils dilated more than she has ever seen. It awakes something in her and all she wants is to be kissing him again, savoring him. She tries to pull his face closer to her again but he takes a step back and grabs her hand, squeezing it tight while walking over to the bed.

In one movement, he sits on the edge and pulls her close between his legs so they are eye-to-eye. He lets his eyes roam her face, tracing lines up and down from her eyes to her lips to her breasts and back up before he looks at her hungrily. Wrapping his arms around her midsection, he pulls her closer as his head dips into the small place between her shoulder and her neck, planting small kisses along the intact parts of her skin.

If he pressed his lips any harder, she thinks he could feel the way her heart is beating so fast, she can barely keep up.

All she knows is that she wants this to keep going.

She wants Evan all to herself, and when she melts into his touch, arching her back closer to him to give him extra leverage to her neck, he breathes in deep and pulls away, staring straight into her eyes.

"What is it?" Meg whispers breathlessly, but before she can finish her tangled thoughts, Evan kisses her one more time, eating her words whole with a forceful rough kiss until he pulls away and growls deep in her ear.

"Come to bed with me."

---

A/N

I just wanted to say thank you so much for everyone's amazing support while writing this story! This story has helped me in so many ways, and not a day goes by that I don't think about it. Getting this chapter out took WAYYYYY longer than I ever intended, but I appreciate everyone's patience! Life got in the way, and well...it made it hard to write for a few months, but here it is! I love this story with all of my heart and being able to share it with you guys means the world to me! Again, thank you! And hopefully I'll see y'all in the next chapter! (which hopefully won't have an 8 month delay again!)