EXTINCTION EVENT

chapter ten: big happy family

[ original episode ]

DAY 08

"Maddy," Travis held his hands up in an attempt to placate the inconsolable woman.

"Don't 'Maddy' me, tell me what she's doing here, why the hell is she here?" Madison cut him off, gesturing roughly to Meghan.

"You can't talk to my daughter like that!" Katie spoke up, indignant as she stepped protectively in front of Meghan, who winced — as much as she didn't want to take the lead in this situation, it was a special kind of embarrassing to have your mother chew out someone else's mother over something you did. She felt like a grade schooler.

"Who the hell are you?" Madison questioned roughly. "What the hell are you people doing here?"

"We were invited, who the hell let you in?" Katie shot back.

"It's my damn house, and I certainly didn't invite her of all people!" Madison snapped, pointing an accusatory finger at Meghan, who blanched.

"I didn't know it was your house," she said, apologetic before Madison cut her off.

"Just like you didn't see him in the road?" she retorted.

Her son wiped his mouth from his roll and spoke up. "'Scuse me?"

His plea went ignored as Travis continued. "Maddy, listen, this really isn't the time-"

"How the hell did you even find us, anyway? Travis write down our damn address for you?" Madison snapped.

"Why would my daughter ever want to track you down?" Katie asked incredulously, sending Meghan another confused look, still unsure of what they'd wandered into.

"Hey, 'scuse me?" Madison's son—Rick? No, Nick—interrupted sharply, finally bringing the argument to a halt.

The addict looked a bit better than he had when she'd first met him, but that wasn't a hard feat, considering she first saw him after she hit him with her car as he was coming off of a bad trip. He was dressed in baggy tan slacks, a striped orange-white button up that looked about three sizes too big for him, and a tan jacket with a red plaid insert that practically swallowed his narrow frame. If he had showered, which she doubted, he had elected against using a comb. Or a brush. Or anything to manage the messy locks that Meghan was fairly positive would become dreads given a few more weeks of neglect.

His face was still gaunt in a way that didn't suit his age, but his cheeks were rounder, and colored nicely. His eyes were brighter, almost amused at the proceedings around him. Bastard, Meghan thought spitefully. She was a good driver. It wasn't her fault he was a terrible pedestrian.

Her mother may have put it crudely when she described him as a cross-eyed tweaker, but it wasn't far from the truth.

Not that she was going to tell Madison that. No point giving her another reason to hate her more than she already did.

She should have just committed seppuku before she left — saved her family the shame.

Instead, Meghan held back a wince as she prepared for whatever verbal dressing-down the young man had in mind — if he was anything like his mother, it wouldn't be pretty.

Instead, he twirled his fork in his fingers, dark eyes squinted at her as his head cocked to the side curiously.

"You look familiar," he commented, and Meghan's jaw almost dropped. Did he seriously forget? He continued, seemingly not having noticed her abject shock, "Did we go to school together? Paul Williams High? Wait, no,"—he pointed his fork at her, self-assured in his guess—"Citrus Community. That's gotta be it."

If only their meeting had been so mundane as a shared History class at a community college. Then maybe she'd have gotten through this dinner without being publicly tarred and feathered, her head mounted on a pike for all the neighbors to see, and take as an example of the consequences of poor driving. Meghan's hand twisted at her pleated skirt as she worried at the inside of her cheek, debating on her response. She opened her mouth half-heartedly, not entirely sure what she was planning to say.

In the end, she didn't get a chance, as Madison burst out with an infuriated, "She's the one who hit you with her car!"

On cue, Katie and Heather's heads whipped to Meghan, both with varying exclamations of "He's the one you hit with your car?" At the table, Ofelia's gaze snapped to hers, eyes wide and mouth hung open in a surprised 'o.' Well, there went one potential friendship down the drain.

Meghan's fists wrung deeper into her skirt, a heat rising in her face and collar as her lips pressed together, jaw clenched. Great — now both mother and son could chew her out for what an irresponsible, reckless driver she was. She was never leaving the house again.

Instead of starting on her as she'd expected, Nick only blinked. "Oh." He turned to Meghan, more surprised than angry. "Seriously?"

Her lips thinned as she gave a short nod. "Sorry," she managed to get out, her voice reaching a pitch she wasn't sure would register to anyone but Holly.

Nick motioned with his hand, as if waving it off, and opened his mouth as if to reply, but whatever he was about to say was lost to his mother's anger.

"Sorry doesn't cut it," Madison interjected sharply. "You could've killed him." Meghan shrunk back again, flinching at the woman's anger.

"Mom—" her daughter—Alicia, Meghan remembered— spoke up before she was cut off again.

"Not to dismiss what happened, but your son was hardly looking out for his own safety at the time," Katie interrupted, stepping defensively in front of her daughter, whose blood ran cold. Oh no, Meghan thought. She's using her lawyer voice.

The blonde bristled. "What the hell do you mean by that?"

"I think you know what I mean," Katie responded coolly, sending a dismissive glance towards the son in mention, who had elected to ignore the ongoing argument in favor of studying the tablecloth and fiddling with his utensils.

At the table, Heather had made herself comfortable in a seat next to an older balding man, and had already started on her dinner. Beside her, the man's dark, analytical eyes watched the conflict with veiled interest. Quietly, Heather leaned forward and tapped her plate lightly.

"Hey," she whispered to the other teen. "Mind passing the salt?"

The blue-eyed girl nodded and passed it along to an appreciative Heather, who proceeded to drown her baked potato in the condiment.

"This always happen?" she asked between mouthfuls.

"Big happy family," the teen muttered under her breath. "You fit right in."

Madison's mouth twisted as she spat; "What Nick was doing doesn't matter — your daughter should have been paying attention to the road!"

Heather's lips twitched up as the women continued arguing. "Here's hoping for two Christmases."

Katie rebutted Madison's point. "Clearly, your son should have, too, considering he crossed on a green!"

"And that makes it okay to hit him?"

"It'd make it pretty hard to prove driver fault in any court worth a damn," Katie snapped.

"Oh, and you'd know something about that?" The woman condescended.

"Yeah, I would."

"Good for you," Madison's voice was dripping with disdain. "If only you taught your daughter half as much about taking responsibility as you did about legally dodging it, we wouldn't be having this conversation."

Meghan and Heather shared an uneasy look as Katie straightened, nostrils flaring as she took a breath and quickly adjusted her sweater's position over her shoulder.

"At least my daughter's not an addict," Katie said scathingly. "Wasn't Nick coming down from a crack high at the time?"

At the table, the young shaggy haired boy's eyes widened into saucers, and he choked on his water as Liza smacked him lightly on the back, eyes darting between the two mothers. Katie, either unaware of the table's horrified reactions, or simply uncaring, continued. "As Meghan put it, he was barely even there, babbling on about blood and viscera when she found him. No offense," she shot off over her shoulder to the young man in question.

"Mum!" Meghan exclaimed. That was too far. Nick had been surprisingly friendly so far, but even he had limits.

Nick waved his fork lightly at her mother. "None taken," he said cheerily. "Just for the record though, I don't do cocaine, I do heroin."

"I'll keep that in mind," Katie said dryly.

Madison, enraged, opened her mouth. "What kind of a mot—"

"Okay, that's enough," Travis said at roughly the same time, stepping up between the two women and resting his hands on Madison's arm and shoulder as he tugged her back to face him instead. His face was drawn up into a stern, firm expression. Meghan almost felt like he was about to call them all into the principal's office.

Suddenly, his lips twitched, then trembled as his head dipped and he began to silently chuckle, his shoulders shaking as the ruse dissolved before their eyes.

As he dissolved further into barely stifled snorts, laughter rang out from the blue-eyed teen at the table, Alicia. She seemed to find the situation ironic, only laughing harder as Madison's frown lines deepened. Then, Nick broke and joined in as well, a wide grin splitting his face as he joined in the chorus.

Meghan watched in horror as the group broke down laughing, Travis finally glancing up to catch her eye. "You were right," he admitted, still unable to wipe his smile off his face. "She's just like her."

The girl paused, straining to remember their past conversation and what he was referring to. When she did, she struggled to keep from breaking down as well, hiding a snort behind her hand.

Madison caught her slip, and snapped. "You think this is funny?"

Travis sighed, though his voice was still amused. "Maddy, please-"

The woman continued, incensed. "How dare you come into my home after everything you've done and act like it's nothing."

"Believe me, I wouldn't have come if I knew," Meghan insisted.

"Hey," Nick cut in, flashing what he most likely meant to be a charming smile. "I forgot my pitchfork and torches back at the church, so if you want to take this further" — he dinged his fork against his plate — "this will have to do."

Alicia snorted again, and Madison sent her children a warning look, that created enough of a pause for Travis to jump in and defuse the volatile situation.

"Nick isn't blameless in this either," he interjected. "I know you're upset, but I invited them, Maddy, and it wouldn't be fair to just kick them out." At Madison's heavy pause, he clarified. "We're in the middle of a disaster zone, and they don't know anyone else here. One night isn't going to kill us."

The longer silence that followed led Meghan to believe that one night could absolutely kill everyone there. She, for one, didn't want to imagine all the creative ways Madison could make her suffer with the good silverware.

Travis seemed to choose to ignore this, and waved them to sit. "Come on, the food's getting cold."

Meghan sat stiffly down at the table, followed by her mother. Heather had no issues taking Travis's advice, having already sat down before the man could even make the suggestion, and now halfway through her first course.

Meghan's hands played with the fabric of her skirt beneath the table, and Katie staunchly avoided eye contact with Madison, staring ahead stoically at the pale green walls.

Down the table, the older hispanic man hid a light cough in his elbow.

Travis, seemingly sick of the silent treatment, began to introduce the table. "This is my girlfriend, Madison," he cleared his throat as the woman in question sent him a cold stare, "who you've met. Her son, Nick, and her daughter, Alicia."

"We're well acquainted," Nick piped up, a cheeky smile playing across his lips as he glanced at Meghan. Under the table, Meghan's nails dug into the meat of her thigh, the intermittent stinging helping to clear her head. Don't get upset, he's just trying to mess with you.

Travis acknowledged the interruption with a brief nod. "Yes, well — my ex-wife, Liza, and my son, Chris. The Salazars; Daniel, and his daughter, Ofelia. His wife, Griselda, is here, too, but she's not well, so she'll be in her room while we eat."

Alicia muttered under her breath, something that sounded a lot like, "My room," but no one commented.

Travis continued. "Everyone, this is Katie Darcy, and her two daughters, Meghan, and Heather."

Katie gave a pleasant smile, though it didn't reach her eyes. "Thank you for inviting us, Travis," she said, and he nodded.

The silence hung in the air like smoke, suffocating their lungs. Meghan wondered if everyone else felt the tension as acutely as she did. That was ridiculous — of course they did. Everyone had seen the blow-out between them just moments before, and now they had to sit through this farce of a dinner.

Seems like Mum's Martha Stewart plan is falling through before it even had a chance to get off the ground, she thought.

"What happened to your hand?" the balding man — Daniel, Travis had said — interrupted, staring brazenly at Heather's bandage.

"She cut it on a dish," Liza spoke up in her defense, sending the young girl a reassuring look. "I was going to check it after dinner, make sure it's healing, not infected."

A look passed between the adults at the table, Madison, Daniel, Travis, and Liza. A silent understanding of something they weren't privy to, though it concerned them. It sent a prickle up Meghan's spine.

After another painful minute crept by, Liza spoke up. "Griselda will be needing her foot drained soon," she explained away, standing up from her place at the table. "I should go help her. It was nice to meet you all," she said hurriedly as she pushed her chair back in. The shaggy haired boy around Heather's age — Chris — sent her a horrified 'please don't leave me' look that could only be known by an embarrassed teenager among strangers.

"I'll go help with Mama," Ofelia excused herself as well, but not before sending Meghan a look that said she'd be expecting an explanation later.

The table once again went silent, the sounds of the women striding down the hall the only background noise, and quiet fidgeting with the corners of the table cloth and their napkins.

The table once again went silent, the sounds of the women striding down the hall the only background noise, and quiet fidgeting with the corners of the table cloth and their napkins.

"You set a beautiful table, Madison," Katie complimented, breaking the silence.

Madison gave a toothless, thin smile, and hummed noncommittally before going back immediately to her meal, ignoring her clearly unwanted guests.

Katie's fork clinked against her plate, cutting into the heavy quiet as she began on her meal.

"You folks are from out of state, right?" Travis confirmed, starting up the conversation when it became clear no one else was willing to speak. "Earlier, you were wearing a Vermont t-shirt."

Ah, yes. Her depression uniform of a state park t-shirt and sweatpants. "We own a ranch in Northern Vermont. We came down to see Meghan."

At this, Travis's attention was once again brought back to their controversial guest, who was doing her best to be as quiet and unassuming as possible. "You go to college around here?"

Meghan startled slightly, insecure at the spotlight once again being cast on her. "Yeah," she cleared her throat. "UCLA. Just wrapping up my freshman year."

"What major are you in?" Madison asked unexpectedly.

Meghan blinked, unsure of how to respond. "Um, Criminal Justice. Pre-Law track."

Her eyes cast between Katie and Meghan. "Like mother, like daughter."

Katie gave a polite smile, her eyes narrowed as she took a sip of her drink. "I suppose so."

Meghan's eyes averted from the curious gazes being sent her way across the table, and drifted towards the bowl of rolls across from her, just out of reach in the middle of the table. Unbeknownst to her, someone noticed.

"You want me to pass you the rolls?" At first, she didn't register the question was directed at her. As the person repeated it again, she looked up with a start, and realized it was the guy she'd been avoiding most since this dinner began. Who was now expecting an answer.

She shook her head, too vigorously to be polite. "No, I'm fine, thank you," she responded quickly.

"...You sure?"

"Yep."

Unconvinced, Nick sat up, pushed the rolls down the table in front of her, then sat back down in his seat. Biting the inside of her cheek, Meghan took one for her plate and quietly thanked him, face burning.

"I'm fine, by the way," Nick added, and Meghan realized with a start she hadn't ever bothered to ask if he was okay after the crash.

Her eyes widened. "I'm so sorry—" she began in a hush, but he waved her off.

"I'm just messing with you," he said, teasing. "I don't bite, I swear."

Splintering wood under broken nails, empty eyes, a man crouching over a still-twitching corpse in the common room, intestines dangling from his jerking hands as he brought it up to his mouth to feast.

Meghan flinched at Nick's words, then cursed herself internally for it. If she wasn't going to make a good impression, the least she could do is not come across like a total nut job.

As the table went quiet again, Heather continued to stare down Chris, dark eyes narrowed. Her eyes never strayed as she studied his face, analyzing and cross-examining against her working memory.

The boy shifted in his seat, uncomfortable under her stare before he finally barked out, "What?"

She leveled her fork at him, a bit of potato still attached. "I know where I've seen you before," she said, and took a bite, swallowing before she continued, "you were at the riots, right? On TV."

He seemed startled, brown eyes going wide. "You saw?"

"It was all over the news," Heather said dismissively. "Everyone saw it, one way or the other. You were at the front of it, though, so you had the best view." She took another bite of her meal, pausing before she spoke again, eyebrows quirked the slightest bit in curiosity as her eyes scanned his face. "See anything interesting while you were holding the picket line?"

"Nothing very," Travis responded in place of his son. "We got out before anything serious happened. And the military moved in to secure this place not long after."

"I've seen you around the neighborhood alongside the soldiers," Katie observed, taking a mental note of how keen Travis had been to cut his son off before he could answer. "Are you military?"

"No, just doing my part," Travis said modestly. Beside him, Madison looked down at her plate, and her grip tightened on her fork as she took an unusually harsh bite. "They've put up the fences," he started, eyes searching the table for support as he attempted to drum up enthusiasm. "Given us food, water, supplies. They got the lights back on. Seems only fair we should be helping out where we can. "

"They promised doctors," Daniel templed his hands as he leaned forward on the table, tilting his head towards Travis. "When will they come?"

"I'm not sure," Travis admitted. "Soon, they're doing everything they can—"

"If you're not sure, then how do you know they're doing everything they can?" Daniel pressed.

"We can trust them," he said assuredly. "I've talked with Moyers, the man in charge. He's a bit rough, but he's doing his job. We're safe here."

Katie did her best to tamp down on the natural grimace his response enticed, twisting it into a more socially appropriate look of vague concern before biting down on her potato. So that's where he stands. Travis's insight and connections to the military were important, but if he felt that strongly about the good they were doing, he wouldn't be much help in eventually getting out, when the time came.

The military had a mission, sure. The trouble was, Katie wasn't positive it aligned with hers. That fact alone meant she would never be able to fully trust them. In desperate times, people did whatever they needed, to protect their own, even at the cost of others. And she would not allow her family's lives to be forfeit in a greater war against the infected.

Her colder thoughts must have shown on her face, and she paused, feeling a set of eyes on her. Subtly, Katie let her gaze drift up from her plate and land on Daniel. He had a sharp, analytical look on his face as his eyes drilled holes in hers. She didn't know him, but she had the distinct thought of a butcher carving into a carcass on the rack — figuring out exactly what's going on inside. Then, with a lack of fanfare, he looked away as Chris broke into the polite conversation Meghan and Travis were leading about the lovely staff of UCLA, and their attention was diverted.

"Did you really hit Nick with your car?" Chris asked abruptly.

"Chris!" Travis snapped.

"Sorry, dad, for speaking on behalf of everyone here, but it didn't seem like dinner was going anywhere and I want to know!" Chris snarked, making it obvious he was not, in fact, sorry in the least.

"She's your guest, Travis," Madison spoke, and Meghan hid her flinch at the barely contained hostility underpinning her words. "You get to share."

Travis stared at his girlfriend for a moment before letting out a long-suffering sigh, and shaking his head.

At Chris's stare, Meghan spoke up. "It wasn't intentional," she said, strained.

"What was it like?" the boy asked, curious.

"Chris!" Travis snapped.

"I'm just curious! How'd you manage to hit him, anyway?"

"LA is not a pedestrian friendly city," Nick finally spoke up between bites, as casually as if he was discussing the weather.

"Most American cities are designed around cars as the primary mode of transport," Heather said beside her after swallowing a mouthful of her meal. "Traffic dense cities like LA even more-so. Pedestrians and bikers are an afterthought at best when city planning. You'd have had more luck someplace like the Netherlands, they have designated walking paths and bike lanes."

"Whose side are you on?" Meghan hissed to her and Heather shrugged.

"The side of walkable city-planning?" Heather suggested innocently before taking another bite of her baked potato. Meghan made a face before turning back to the conversation.

"I'm sorry about hitting you," she apologized. "I didn't mean to, but you just ran out into traffic, I didn't see you until it was too late."

"I wasn't running into traffic, I was running away from where I was, what I saw," Nick corrected her, his voice taking on a more serious tone.

Travis gave Nick a warning look, his eyes carefully assessing the Darcys — as if there was something he didn't want Nick to tell them about.

"What were you running from?" the man, Daniel, spoke up curiously for the first time, apparently having been listening carefully the entirety of the conversation.

Madison cleared her throat, forcing a friendliness as she offered, "Does anyone want seconds? I have more sweet potatoes in the oven."

"What were you running from?" Daniel repeated.

"Just my dead girlfriend," Nick replied casually, taking another bite from his roll as the rest of the table froze.

Madison's fork clattered to her plate, sharp eyes nearly bugged out of her skull as she turned to look at Nick in horror.

Daniel's eyes snapped from face to face, assessing each one of the Darcys with brutal efficiency as they digested the news — assessing them to figure out how much they knew.

They assumed they were walking into a normal family dinner, full of people who were unaware of the nightmares that awaited them outside the fences.

Obviously, they were wrong.

Madison's eyes darted to her son. "Nick," she hissed out.

Nick readied to take another bite before he paused, rolling his eyes. "They already know," he stated. "It's why they're here, right? So we can make sure Heather isn't bit? Plus, Meg heard me talking about it that day. She might be a bad driver, but no one's that stupid. No offense."

"How could I take offense from that?" Meghan said, her intended sarcasm lost to the shock in her voice.

They knew. They all knew.

They all knew that they knew that they knew that they knew.

The question remained, heavy on everyone's mind: What now?

➸  ➸  ➸

The rest of the dinner went smoothly — or as smoothly as it could, given the circumstances. Madison excused herself as soon as she could, and disappeared for most of the evening. Meghan honestly couldn't blame her.

Afterwards, Heather had her hand checked out by Liza in the living room, who had finally returned from her convenient sabbatical with Griselda.

If Travis and Daniel were hovering the entire time she unwrapped it, none of them said a word.

"It's not infected," Liza announced, and Travis's shoulders sagged. Daniel seemed unfazed, though it was hard to determine whether he had expected this outcome, or if he was simply better at hiding his true feelings than Travis was. Liza continued her work, swabbing disinfectant on Heather's cut, drawing a stifled hiss from the girl, who dug the fingers of her uninjured hand into the couch cushions as Liza continued her work across from her. "Just a cut, like you said."

"What else would it be?" Katie spoke up, slightly pointed as her eyes drifted to Travis, who squirmed under the scrutiny of her gaze. "You were scared it was something else when we met, what did you think it was?" she waited for a response, then pressed again. "We already know what happens to them after they get sick. If you know anything, please, tell us."

Travis looked uncomfortable. Behind them, Travis's son, Chris, stepped in quietly, leaning against the doorway as he watched the proceedings. They hadn't seemed to notice him, but it wasn't Meghan's place to out the kid — he was Heather's age, anyway, and knew what was going on. Oblivious to the new arrival, his father spoke lowly. "We think it might be a bite," he admitted. "But some of the people we've seen — they weren't bit, but they were like that."

Katie nodded, taking the information in silence, but Heather interrupted. "People?" she questioned.

Travis looked at her quizzically, confused at what she was saying. "I'm sorry?"

"You just said they were people," she repeated. "They're not. Not anymore, at least."

Katie's lips thinned, and she spoke softly. "Heather, it's not the time."

"We don't know that," Travis shook his head. "They could be helped."

Heather seemed dubious, but turned to Liza instead. "You're the nurse," she said. "What do you think?"

Liza hesitated before responding. "I-I don't have enough information to make that call," she said, tying off her bandage.

Heather watched her carefully, then looked down at her newly re-bandaged hand, flexing it carefully. "I do," she said quietly.

A tense quiet overtook the group before their visitor spoke up. "She's right," Chris cut in. "They're not people anymore, not really."

"Chris, I told you to go help Alicia in the kitchen," Travis said, irritated.

"I already did," he insisted.

Travis sighed. "We'll talk about this later." Chris gave him an aggravated scoff, then stormed off.

"The girl is right," Daniel noted simply after Chris had left, giving Travis a sidelong look. "You should let the boy come to his own conclusions."

"Do me a favor," Travis said tersely, "Let me look after my son."

Daniel acquiesced, gesturing for him to go ahead as he left, presumably to go see his wife.

Heather bit her lip as she stood from her place on the couch. "Sorry," she muttered, cradling her hand close to her.

"It's fine," Travis brushed it off. "He's just having a hard time with...everything. I'll see you out."

They walked to the door, Katie and Travis exchanging the typical pleasantries before starting down the steps. It had gotten dark while they were there, and they were leaving just before curfew set in for the soldiers. Still, Meghan hung back, hesitant to leave.

Travis watched her expectantly. No doubt he was just waiting for her to leave. While he'd been kind enough to host them for the evening, it was time for them to go, and she was being rude by delaying.

But he was kind, and that's why she had to tell him. She owed him that much.

"I know you don't want to, but when they get sick," Meghan started awkwardly, "you can't hurt them like you could hurt someone normal. You have to go for the head. Otherwise, they just keep coming."

Travis didn't respond. His eyes creased, face going tense as Meghan spoke. She'd miscalculated by telling him — he wasn't ready for that, no matter how necessary the information was.

"Thank you for the dinner," Meghan rushed out, then turned and walked briskly down the steps, cheeks burning. Now he saw her as an idiot and a murderer. Great.

"Meghan," Travis called after her, and she paused, turning to look back at him. His face was grim, but understanding. "Thanks for the tip."

She nodded stiffly. "Sure," she managed to get out, then followed after her mother and sister back to her house.

➸  ➸  ➸

...well, that was a lot of drama 😂 

This was on my mind while writing and publishing this chapter, so I would like to take a moment to say this. So far, all the comments and feedback I have received have been very kind towards me and all the characters of FTWD and EE, which I am very grateful for! However, I am aware that some people are sensitive towards perceived hate or bashing on specific characters, especially in fanfiction, so I wanted to clarify some things just in case.  

Just to be clear: I'm not trying to bash on any of the main characters. I try to write the FTWD group as in-character as possible, and Madison, at this point in the story, is extremely overwhelmed and stressed due to having to look after three families at once, so seeing the girl who hit her son with a car invited to dinner is basically the straw that broke the camel's back.

Plus, Katie & Madison are both very much momma bear types that defend their kids no matter what, so this was only ever going to end with them butting heads. 

I know Madison can be a bit controversial in the fandom, so I wanted to clarify where I was coming from while writing her. That said, you're free to share your own takes on the characters in the comments — just be respectful of other readers and their opinions!  

I do hope you guys enjoyed this chapter, as it was one of my favorites to write! Let me know what you thought, and leave a vote or comment if you enjoyed!