[July 10th/1975-Evening]

Megan leans against the wall, phone in hand, fingers idly threading through the loops in the cable. She holds her breath as the other line is answered. "Hello?"

"Kurt." She says with a smile, relieved that he was the one to pick up, she hesitates not sure where to start...

"Megan? Are you there?" 

"Yeah I-, I want to see you tonight, meet me at home?" She closes her eyes, heart racing as the line goes quiet, the pause stretching uncomfortably before he cautiously responds. "Is he expected to come home late tonight?"

"Not here," she says, pushing away from the wall and taking the few steps the phone cord allowed, "my home, not Carson's house." She emphasized, hearing him shuffle around on the other end. "Right, of course... Should I bring anything, what's the plan here? Are we camping out in the backyard or...?" He doesn't quite finish the thought, she smiles as he settles her nerves effortlessly, she knows what he's thinking and somehow the idea of going through with all those things didn't seem so terrifying. Not compared to everything before that...

"Look just meet me there in an hour, we can talk more face to face." They hadn't had much of a chance to speak after their trip, Megan had barely spoken a word since, Carson and her don't really speak much anymore, he didn't need words to express his disdain, his presence heavy, smothering silence... Nothing had dissuaded her from her path... God knows she gave him every opportunity to subvert this course. "Kurt, everything's going to be different after tonight," she watches the distinctive flash of headlights moving across the front window, highlighting the destruction, "I promise, see you later okay."

She hangs up the phone, ready to make good on her promise... If she survives.

__

[July 10th/1975-Morning]

Megan gets up earlier than usual, shuffling around the kitchen, it felt important to have a good breakfast today, there wasn't much in the house, they were due to grocery shop tomorrow... She didn't want to be wasteful, cooking the sort of breakfast one would expect for an anniversary or for a parent on Mother's or Father's Day, when was the last time she celebrated that? 71' or was it earlier? She was barely old enough to help those last few years... She remembers she picked out a keychain with her siblings, what did it say? 'number one dad'. She believed that, he'd held onto it until the day he'd died.

Megan is torn from her thoughts as Carson moves behind her, taking something from the fridge before stopping to observe, her hands tremble as he shadows her, she adds a little more cooking oil, that's one thing they aren't short on, the bottle is nearly full... her eyes locked on sizzling bacon and egg yolks staring back at her like wide, wild orange eyes on the verge of bursting... The visceral image fills her mind as she focuses on the task at hand and he moves on from the kitchen.

She set things out in the dining room, he was sitting at the table waiting, he seemed torn between questioning what prompted such a full breakfast, and the smug sense of satisfaction that she'd come around to making amends for her actions last month. She sat across from him, eating and waiting... For what? Maybe she wanted to give him one last chance to say something, anything, that could salvage things but no words came. Even in painful silence, everything's fine so long as she behaves...

She watches him walk out the front door as she gathers up the plates. He didn't even thank her. She stood still, eyes clenched shut as she gripped his dirty plate tightly before throwing it at the wall as hard as she could. Hitting a painting hanging over the mantle with a loud crash. Megan looked at it, making no move to pick up the pieces and she felt... Lighter?

She throws her plate next, more deliberately taking out a vase of flowers. She catches herself grinning as she shatters Carson's favourite mug on the floor. Crunching under the soles of her shoes, she'll never sweep this floor again, she steps around the table into the living room, selecting a record from Carson's collection, dusting off the colourful sleeve before tearing the record out of it, snapping it in half, and another and another before she turned on the television, it didn't matter what was playing so long as it was loud... Everything was in order, she scans bookshelves, taking one at random and ripping all it's pages out, scattering them across the floor, pushing things off shelves like a troublesome cat. 

There'd be no backing out now so why hold back? 

Megan pictured the look on his face when he sets foot through the front door, deciding on a whim to run up to his room and raid his wardrobe, dumping the majority of his clothes out downstairs, taking great joy on cutting them to shreds. It was a days work, soon joy burnt away to pure methodical destruction, and then rage... Rage at the life she had been forced to live, at everything and everyone she'd lost, at a world that dared to have Leonard Carson in it while other people move on from her family's deaths, at the expectation that she should too...

She sits on the now torn up couch catching her breath after it all. Everything she truly cares to keep is stored away in the shed, the hardest thing was choosing which clothes to keep, everything else was certain. She pushes herself to her feet, walking towards the staircase again, Kurt's baseball bat is sat on her now cleared bedside table, she'd have to return it to him later. She enters Carson's room again, taking his darkest secret and feeling more conviction than ever as she clutches the tainted bible, this is who he is, not the neat facade downstairs, she walks through the destroyed house, setting the old book down as she picks up the phone and dials a number she knows off by heart.

__

[July 7th/1975-3 days prior]

The drive back into town had been quiet, Glenn idled out front until Megan got back inside. As soon as she was alone again the weight became too crushing, she fell to her knees the second the front door was shut behind her. She didn't have time for this... If Carson saw her like this, if he knew where she'd been. She's not ready. Megan forces herself to her feet, she'd planned ahead to throw something all but ready to eat in the oven and clean herself up before Carson could be any the wiser.

She knew she was cutting things close, as she set everything up in the kitchen and raced up stairs to wash up. Megan scrubbed her face harshly, having yet to learn a better way to remove makeup. It was a challenge to remove the admission stamp from her wrist, skin burning from the water and stinging from the effort. The pain brought her back down to earth and she reluctantly steps out of the shower, wiping the steam from the mirror. Seeing herself, wet and flushed from the heat, black strands of hair sticking to her face and neck, curling down her shoulders and further, it could not have been a greater contrast from earlier in the day. She thought of that frightened girl in the fortune teller's crystal ball, looking at herself like this she drops her arms to the side, letting the tension leave her body and her face fall to a more neutral expression. She could be a woman in body and mind and have all the things women were supposed to have... but only if the scared little girl goes far far away.

Megan dresses, coming down stairs to find Carson already home, having intervened in the kitchen, the food was only slightly burnt but that didn't stop him from giving her an ear full about leaving the oven unattended... Not that she could make sense of a word he said, she was exhausted.

That night she laid in bed thinking of all the woman had said and how she would do it, feeling very little as she drifted off in the early hours of the morning. When she woke again she searched through the house for a place to keep her things. Contemplating what she must do, coming to terms with it as much as she was able... and waiting, for what? An out? That moment of clarity on which to act?

Megan bides her time... She'll know it when she sees it.

__

 [July 10th/1975-Present]

Megan steps away from the phone as the headlights shut off. Burying a matchbox in her pocket and taking the tainted bible from the counter as the front door swings open. Carson freezes in the doorway, keys dropping from his hands as he's faced with the state of his house...

He barely pulls the door shut behind him as he looks around with wider eyes than Megan had ever seen, before he sees her... and the book in her hands. His eyes narrow as he steps further into the house, rage washing over him. "What have you done?"

"I'm not spending another second under your thumb," She says keeping her voice steady as she maintains eye contact with him. "I'd rather die," she opens the book to a random page covered in heretical symbols, running her fingers across for thin paper until it wrinkles, "you might have everyone else fooled, 'Father', but not me. Reverend 'Carver'."

She tore out a handful of pages, throwing them in his direction to emphasize the comparison. "You ungrateful little- after everything I've done for you!?"

"'What you've done for me?' What exactly have you done except prop yourself up by being so damn 'selfless', so 'charitable', but you needed me to stay just wretched enough so people in this godforsaken town would pity how hard you had it-"

"Enough!" He stalks closer to her, "You think this was easy? I have never let you go without, I have met all your needs, you expect me to give in to every childish whim, you cry about being so hard done by because I refuse to stand by and let you run rampant with that boy, is that it?" He seizes her by the shoulders, nails digging painfully into her skin as he backs her against the wall. She clutches the old book close to her chest, as she bites back the instinct to fall in line, to swallow the consequences and beg for mercy that he'd already promised wouldn't come. But she couldn't do that, not after everything she'd done. It was like her body was moving on its own as she swung the book against his face hard enough for him to let go. "This isn't about him, it never was and you know it!" Megan ducked under his arms and threw the book in his direction without looking as she darts upstairs.

Megan slams her bedroom door, unable to shut it fully before Carson is at the other side. Throwing her full weight into it, trying to brace against the door as he starts beating on it with his fists, yelling at her. "Get back here you-" Megan doesn't catch the rest as she's thrown back from the force of the door being kicked in. Her head hitting the floor. She doesn't even see her split lip nor the blood from her scratched up arms in the mirror as she scrambles across the room, crawling on hands and knees. Kurt's bat clatters to the ground as she fails to reach it, hands unsteady. 

"Up!" He barks cruelly, Megan takes it from the floor, as his hand comes down hard on the back of her neck, holding onto the wooden handle so hard her fingers ache as she's hauled to her feet. She kicks at his shin hard enough to take him off guard, breaking out of his grasp. Swinging on him she screams. "I'm not afraid of you anymore!" She cries as the first blow connects with his arm as he defends his head. "I don't care if it kills me!" The second lands squarely in his stomach. "I'd even accept eternal damnation!" The third splinters over his head as he doubles over. "I'll drag you to hell myself!" She yells desperately as he crumples to the floor.

Carson catches her ankle as she tries to step over him, causing her to stumble, but she maintains her balance as she flees from the room, cracked bat in hand. Megan bolts down the hallway, but Carson recovers faster than expected, running off god knows what demonic energy. She cries out in surprise as he grabs one of her braids, yanking her towards him and grabbing the bat with his other hand. "You'll regret trying to fight me." He hisses painfully. "Stop this petulant tantrum this instance!"

She struggles against him but he's so much stronger than her, easily ripping the baseball bat from her hands, tossing it down the stairs. Megan desperately grabs the closest thing she could, flinging it over her head with all her might. She pulls away as the vase shatters against his skull. Shoving him as hard as possible. Carson grasps for her, pawing at her, leaving long scratches down her arms as he fails to maintain his already unsteady balance. She clings to the railing fighting for breath as he tumbles... Staring at him on the floor. Heart pounding painfully in her chest but the pain has little time to settle in as the sight of him moving sets a fire in her veins and she descends as careful as she can. Megan runs past him, stumbling on the debris on her way to the kitchen. Taking the cooking oil and dashing back to the living room entrance, she stops, staring at him across the room, dead on his feet, covered in cuts, bruises blooming rapidly, nose bloodied, an arm hanging just slightly wrong by his side. She stands firm, legs trembling beneath her as the glass bottle leaves her hand, thrown with everything she has. Her heart stops as it shatters over his head, the contents spilling over him, splashing upon the floor, he's disoriented but doesn't go down. He steps back into a bookshelf near the fireplace and she doesn't waste the opportunity, rushing over and pulling the shelf until it falls on top of him. Pinning him in place.

She steps in front of him, keeping herself at arms length as she looks down on him, the glass had sliced up his face, blood pouring from a hundred tiny cuts, a gash somewhere on his scalp and a larger cut across his cheek mixing with his busted nose... He looked pathetic. "It's over for you," she says slightly above a whisper as he struggles under the shelf. "you can't bury this, you can't stand in front of the church and pretend this didn't happen..." He barely pushes himself to his elbows, his hand coming up to touch his destroyed face, she looks down on the blood soaked crown of his head as he pulls his shaky hand away, awash in red. "You..." He breathes out raggedly, craning his head up to stare at her, eyes full of malice. "I should have smothered you during your illness, or drowned you in the tub in those early days," Megan feels frozen to her core, burying her hands in her pockets, eyes blurring at the edges. The thought alone chills her soul... "Poor wretched orphan girl, passing in time to be thrown in the earth with the rest of her dammed family."

"Who would've been any the wiser?" Her breath catches and her eyes sting as he continues spitting his bile, she pulls the matchbox from her pocket with shaking hands. "I should have killed you!"

She slides the box open, pulling a match out... She blinks away tears, pain catching up to her she catches his hand inching towards the iron poker, she strikes the match and his hand stills. "Megan?" He says her name desperately as his face dissolves into terror. "You know I don't mean that, I wouldn't-" his hand reaches out, too close to her already stinging ankle for comfort, flame steadying her hands as she steps back.

"You know I would never hurt you." 

He bargains in the face of reality, as if either of them could take back the things they'd driven the other to, the only thing they share now is the bloody mouths of cruel wolves and lambs that dare to bite back... Megan feels far away as the match slips through her fingers, like it had nothing to do with her as it hit the oil soaked debris, lighting in an instant, she stands there as the fire engulfs his torn sleeves, tearing up his arms. Flames eating his skin and hair, he flails trapped, screaming in agony, frantically clawing the floorboards as if he had a chance, as the fire spreads out across the room. She doesn't move until it laps at her feet... 

She steps away from him as the curtains catch and the ceiling is blackened and the roaring flames drown out his wailing until his voice dies down. Megan takes in the chaos, feeling... calm. Wondering to herself if it was like this for her family, she forces herself upstairs, grabbing the broken bat on the way. She swears she hears them when she reaches the top of the stairs, looking around like she expects to see them, somewhere in the fire, this is how it was supposed to go? Her burning to death at the top of the stairs? 'Megan you have to get out of there now!' She thought she heard Anthony calling her to escape and runs back through her room to the window pulling it open and climbing outside. She nearly misses the branch on the way down, slightly slowing her fall. Hitting the dirt hard and rolling over onto her back, she sees flame burst through the open window and she laughs as she lays there. It's over. She's free. She nearly sobs as she's overtaken by hysterical laughter until her throat hurts, mesmerised by the sight. 

Megan sits up as the tree starts to catch fire, she picks up the bat handle, broken in half now... Dragging herself to the back shed, she collects a long bag full of everything she owns, slinging it over her sore shoulders and taking one long last look through the living room window, unable to even see where Carson's body lay as the ceiling collapses in on itself... She holds onto the bat tightly, she has to return it to Kurt, she thinks, recalling that he's waiting for her, she leaves to go home. 

To Kurt.

__

Megan runs through the yard, through the open door of her home and into Kurt's waiting arms, she kisses him, deeply, truly joyful about how no one will ever hurt them again. She feels his arms around her, soaks up his warmth as she holds him closer than she ever had. She never would have dared to dream of being so openly intense with her affection for him but she's free now, and they don't have to hide or sneak around. His arms slide to her shoulders and he pulls away, she leans back in to kiss him again but he steps back, causing her to look up into his fearful face. "Megan? Is that blood? I-" he touches his own mouth in shock, voice trembling a little, "I can see the smoke from here, what happened? You're hurt." 

"It's okay," she smiles, speaking softly as she touches his cheek, "it's all over now." He looks confused, stepping back to run his fingers through his hair anxiously. "What? Oh God what is Carson going to do when he finds out his house got burnt down?" He looks down at the broken bat which she'd dropped to the floor on her way in before she takes both his hands. He turns back to her as she breaks the good news. "He's dead."

"Dead?" Kurt asks as if he misheard her, Megan let's go of his hands as she bends down to pick up the pieces of the bat and holds them out to him. "I'm sorry I broke it, I know it was your brother's..." Megan felt bad about damaging something so important to Kurt as he takes the pieces, putting them back together like they should be before suddenly dropping them like they were electrified. "Megan please tell me it's not true," he takes her hands again. "He's not dead, or... It was an accident, it had nothing to do with you."

"No?" Megan doesn't understand, "Carson's dead, I killed him." She feels her heart drop at the horrified look in his eyes, she pulls away from him as he shakes his head. "No, no, it's not true, you didn't, you couldn't.... Why would you do this?"

"So we can be free, it was the only way." She wraps her arms around herself as she pleads for him to understand. "We always said we would runaway from this place, Kurt, there was no other option!" She raises her voice sharply as he looks like he's going to be sick. "You could have come to stay with us, you could have-"

"I tried to ask, remember? You said your grandparents wouldn't like it." He stopped and stared at her, processing the seemingly inconsequential moment... "Megan... We can't just leave, what about Jen? What about Jo- she's gonna be a mom soon, we can't just leave?"

"They'll be fine!" She snaps unintentionally, "You said yourself that Jen's mom is closer now, Glenn and Jo have this baby thing figured out. I need you... You promised me." She begins to choke up, she doesn't even look at him when he speaks again after a minute. "We can fix this, Megan you have to tell the police that this was any accident, that- that it was self defence and things got out of hand. Please, there are people who care about you, one day we'll have all those things, when we're older, please." He begs as she shakes her head. "No, no no, you don't know what it's like, people already think I killed my family on purpose, no one is going to believe that, I can't live like this! I can't stay here!"

"Megan..." She backs up against the wall hiding her face in her hands, as he reaches out to hold her "I love you!" He pulls her tight to his chest, repeating his confession as if it would make everything bad go away. "I love you more than anything, I've always loved you." She sobs, her face burried in his chest, her arms are trapped between them. "You don't know me at all-" she cuts herself off with a painful sob, everything hurts, why won't he understand? Why did he ever indulge her? She tries to move but he holds her tighter. He's whispering something to her now but she can't hear him. Her body aches more and more. She feels trapped, pressed between the wall and him, his fingers lightly touch her hair in a soothing manner and she is afraid. She doesn't understand what he expects her to do, she can't stay in a place where she'll never be anything more than a wretched thing, where she can only ever be a monster or less than... She struggles to breathe as she begins to panic, thinking for a terrible moment that it would have been better if she died. Tonight? All those years ago? She wanted to scream, she couldn't take it any more. She needs to get far far away.

 She needs to escape. 

Megan doesn't quite understand what she did but suddenly Kurt was on the ground, and she was staring down at the crown of his blond head as his hands struggle against the unstable floor for balance and as he touches his bloody face and Megan felt sick. She looks down at her hands, still bloody scratches down her arms, fearing that Kurt would look at her the way Carson had. That he was right about her. She couldn't see him like that. It would kill her if his kind brown eyes looked at her with such hate.

...so she ran.

She didn't look back, she couldn't dare, she went as fast as her battered body would carry her, didn't even know where she was going until she found herself collapsing in front of her family's graves. She turns her head to them as she lay in the dirt... Tanya was the only one to get flowers anymore... She wishes she knew who cared about her that much, she digs her fingers into the dirt, as if she could close her eyes and be with them again, she wishes she could tell them she was sorry for everything... It was all her fault and there's nothing she could do about it. She lays still as if the earth would claim her stiff body, until she hears someone approaching...

 She's too exhausted to move as a gentle hand brushes over her head. She opens her eyes unsure of how much time had passed to the see a middle aged woman with long curly hair knelt beside her. Eliza has that knowing look and Megan wants to lash out at the Witch for her guidance but she's too weak... The woman hadn't told her to do anything, just that she must accept the risks and consequences... Megan doesn't fight as the woman pulls her into a warm hug, letting the blood and tears soak her chest as she offers Megan something she hasn't had in a long time.

"I'll be your mother from now on, I'll take you away and this place will crumble into ruin and fade from your mind before you ever have to see it again," Megan looks up at her sniffling, bag still slung over her shoulder as the woman helps her to her feet. She looks genuine, cupping Megan's face between her hands. "You're my daughter, you understand? My precious daughter." She pulls Megan back into her warm coat and Megan raises her tired arms around her, she'd almost forgotten what that maternal warmth was like... 

As exhaustion overcame her and her mind went blank she felt truly safe for the first time in longer than she could say... Megan was finally leaving Little Hope behind her, it didn't really matter if the dying town thought her innocent or guilty... The last of the Clarkes was finally laid to rest, the family tragedy complete as the little girl goes far far away.

_end of era.

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