Warnings: Violence, gore and a whole lotta words. This is a long one, y'all so buckle up.

"You know she's lyin'," Hoyt muttered to himself as the engine turned over, all the while his eyes were glued to the window.

He lingered, foot hovering over the pedal as he waited for Mama's face to appear. He felt her eagerness for his absence follow each movement that led him farther from the house with a skip in it's step. She wanted him to leave and why he'd obeyed was beyond him. It irritated him to think there was a part of him that perhaps longed for his intuition to be wrong, but he couldn't deny it. Even though he couldn't see her, he knew she was just behind that window wearing a satisfied grin as he slammed the gear shift to reverse.

"You know she is," he growled.

He begrudgingly peeled his gaze off of the house as he harshly spun the wheel before he pressed down on the gas to send gravel flying in her direction. She was playing him, there wasn't a wreck, just the bittersweet taste of betrayal awaiting him on that road. Bitter, because it was Mama who had put the knife in his back, but the sting from the wound she'd dealt was what made it so sweet. If his own mother would rather associate with rats than love her own flesh and blood, if there really was nothing out there waiting for him, then whatever he had to lose was shot to hell and it was Luda Mae who had pulled the trigger. After all, what did he have to lose? Nothing he hadn't lost already, he'd lost that without having to try, he knew that. It made him who he was, having nothing to lose. Hoyt had no master, not one person who could make him bend, not anymore. Mama used to. He'd always imagined one day she'd wake up and realize she did have a son, one who provided for her, made up for what his daddy lacked. That she'd save that sickly sweet way she looked at Thomas for him. Just thinking about that expression made him nauseous, that and the way Tommy just ate it up. Oh, he lived for it, that acceptance. Hoyt had gone a lifetime without so much as a kind glance in his direction from that woman and he figured the hurt he felt, that illness that her unwavering adoration for Thomas stirred up was what made him tough as nails, 'cause he didn't need it like Tommy did. Hoyt didn't need to be loved. In fact, he'd fallen so deeply in love with being hated that the glimmer of fear in Mama's eyes he woke up to each day had started to feel like acceptance. The way that girl cut her eyes to him and spoke words of poison each time she opened her mouth felt like a kiss, but it was Thomas' blatant disdain that truly fulfilled his addiction to it. Mama may have lit the match, but Tommy sure saw to it the bridge was burned. The girl had her hand in it too, she fanned the flames by telling him just what they thought of him. You think they love you? Oh, she thought she'd won with that line. They had nobody to blame but themselves for what was coming to them.

He grabbed a fistful of dip after he'd put the car in park and shoved it into his already full lip. He sat there a moment, watching the heat waves hover over the cracked asphalt. The engine sputtered, struggling in the unforgiving weather and he scoffed at it as he ripped the key out.

"Piece of shit," he swore violently under his breath as he kicked the door open.

He squinted underneath his hat in the blinding sun as he stood to study his surroundings with his thumbs shoved under his belt. He wandered to the yellow line in the middle of the road and planted himself there, eyes on the indigo horizon. There wasn't a cloud in the sky to block the setting sun and not a damn thing on that road to make Mama an honest woman.

He curled his lip as he nodded his head, "Guess it's just me," he said as he turned to spit, but stopped when something caught his eye.

A crow was perched atop something hidden in the tall, dry grass and staring right at him. It cocked its head and chirped out a warning as Hoyt's boots ventured closer.

"Quit your hollerin'," he scolded as he attempted to shoo it with a wave of his hand.

But the bird didn't budge. It kept it's wiry black feet planted on the prize it was guarding so fiercely and it kept it's beady eyes on Hoyt, daring him to take another step. It didn't flinch when he did, instead it stayed eerily still as it watched. Hoyt craned his neck and pushed the high grass aside to find the little bastard was sitting on a buck, freshly dead. It was a big one too and by the looks of it, must have been the heat that killed it, 'cause there wasn't a scratch on it.

"Guess we'll be eatin' tonight after all," he said with a grimace, he hated the taste of venison almost as much as he hated the bitch who'd reminded him of it.

He reached a hand out to grab one of the antlers, but before he could, the crow's beak latched on to his finger. A slew of curses left his mouth as he shook the thing off and fell back in the grass.

"You little fucker," he said as he stuck his bloodied finger into his mouth.

His eyes narrowed as he met it's taunting gaze again while it ruffled its blackened feathers proudly at him. Hoyt ground his teeth together as he pushed himself up, hissing when the dirt under his hands pushed it's way into the cut. His fist clenched hard around his finger to stop the bleeding as he turned swiftly in the direction of his car.

"I think we outta find out what you taste like, its only fair. You got a taste of me, didn't you," he muttered as he marched to the passenger door and flung it open to retrieve his shotgun.

He cocked it and turned back to the bird with a grin curving its way over his lips. He lined the sights up with his eye and squinted through it, finger hovering excitedly over the trigger with his tongue stuck between his teeth. Before he got his aim steadied, the bird's wings began to flutter and as it started to fly off, another target came into view. The buck hadn't been dead after all, not quite. It stood and looked right at Hoyt through the sights, startled by his presence. In his anticipation, Hoyt's aim faltered as he pulled the trigger. The shot rang out, but missed the buck by a hair and sent it running deeper into the grass. He didn't lower the gun, he stood there with one eye staring through the sights boiling with rage as he watched it disappear. He would have stayed like that for much longer, but a loud squawk made him raise his head up. The crow was sitting on the end of the shotgun. Hoyt's cold blue eyes were wide, his pupils slowly turning them blacker than the bird that was mocking him, and it was mocking him. His meal had escaped and all the while, the bird knew it would. He'd known all along there was life in it, just waiting to run free, far from Hoyt's grasp. He found himself lost in it's gaze momentarily and he imagined it was smiling at him, gloating. It had a familiar gleam in it's eyes, a defiance he'd seen before with an air of arrogance in that small frame. At first, that gleam reminded him of Mama. Her satisfaction at his absence wasn't as hidden as she'd thought it had been, but there was something else in that bird. A meanness that something with such little power shouldn't have possessed, it looked dangerous, just like Tommy.

"Just like Tommy," Hoyt whispered as his eyes widened further in a frenzied and towering rage.

As soon as the words left his mouth, the crow took flight over his car in the direction of Hoyt's home and that's when it truly dawned on him. The real purpose of his absence, the reason he was on that road and not at his own post was because the time had come. Mama had betrayed him indeed.

"Oh, Mama," he whispered with a ghastly smile on his face, one hand clenched in a fist while the other squeezed right around the gun, "you're sure gonna wish you hadn't done that."

But she had done it and now, it was just Hoyt, alone on the road with nothing to lose. Not a damn thing, but they sure did. He threw the gun in the backseat and kicked the door shut before he opened the other and fell into the driver's seat. He shoved the key in and turned it frantically until the engine finally gave in and sputtered to life. He didn't bother using the road, instead he turned it straight into the grass and plowed through it. His foot never left the gas and the brake wasn't even a thought in his mind.

Luda's loving smile was interrupted by the faint roar of an engine creeping closer to her home. As the sound grew louder the heavy weight of reality wrapped around her and squeezed tight, crushing her chest in its embrace. She allowed one more look at her boy and his family before she tore herself away without a word. She didn't want to take their joy away so soon, she'd handle it. She had to. She hurried over to the kitchen window and from behind the curtain she saw the headlights drawing near. She pushed them back just a bit and though the light from the nearly set sun was faint, she could just barely make out the outline of the cop car. It had reached the gravel and showed no signs of slowing as it hurdled towards the barn.

"My god," she whispered with a hand over her mouth.

Her eyes widened as a gasp escaped her and she quickly turned her head away when it barreled through the wooden doors. She held her breath as the sound of the crash rumbled through the house. Guilt flooded her when she realized her first reaction was to hope he'd killed himself, but that guilt was cut short when she looked outside again, because he hadn't. A shadow crept out of the ruined doors, a shotgun at it's side and a hat atop it's head. There was no stumble in his step now, instead there was an angry determination. The dim light from inside the house managed to catch his eye and in its gleam she saw death, it sent a chill down her spine as she rushed to the front door. She threw it open and shut it quickly behind her, barring it with her own back as she watched him approach.

"Hoyt, stop," Luda said shakily as she pressed harder against the door.

"You know I can't do that, Mama," he muttered as his boots hit the wooden porch with force in each step.

He had blood dripping from underneath his hat. It made its way down his forehead and into his right eye, turning it an awful red. It's burn didn't seem to phase him, he kept both eyes wide open as he stood in front of her.

"You should move now," he said darkly.

"You're hurt," Luda said quickly, "why'd you do that, Hoyt?"

"You did what you had to do, didn't you?"

She couldn't hide the fear in her eyes from him any longer. He knew, she could see it clearly in his cold expression. What was left of Hoyt, Charlie and her son did die in that crash. What kept that black heart of his beating was a determination gifted to him by hell itself and an appetite for damnation and death.

"So did I, Mama," he said in an eerily low voice, "not a damn one of you's leavin' this house."

After his voice died out there was nothing but the sound of Luda's uneasy breath, which did little to ease the unforgiving silence that fell in its place. His eyes were on her, but his focus was elsewhere. He was only looking through her, her existence meant nothing to him. She wasn't even an obstacle at this point and she knew it.

"I said move," he growled as his grip tightened on the shotgun.

The moment her eyes left his and rested on the gun, he shoved her to the ground.

"Hoyt, don't," Luda cried as he kicked the door in.

She scrambled to regain her footing, but before she could stand on her own accord, one of his hands flew to her neck and lifted her up until his nose touched her's.

"Why'd you do it, Mama?" He bellowed, forcing her eyes to shut to keep his spit out of them.

Before she could stutter out a response he continued, "Godammit you lyin' bitch, you know what you did. You did it all, Mama and I want you to know that. I want you to look at my eyes, you look and you tell me what you see," he paused as he waited for her to open her own, "that's right, look at 'em mama, look real close, tell me what you see huh? You don't see shit, do you? Not a single goddamn thing and you know why, 'cause you done took it. You took everything I coulda had and gave it to that bastard you found in the trash. Well, now it's my turn. I'm takin' it all from him and you're gonna watch."

He sneered when he noticed the way her bottom lip quivered uncontrollably, "Penance, Mama, that's what this is. Everybody's gotta pay for their sins one day and today's your day."

He released his grip on her and let her fall back to the ground before he strode into the house. His footsteps were heavy and he hoped Ronnie and Thomas could hear him below, he wanted them afraid. The taste of Mama's fear would pale in comparison to their's. He was on the highest high his life had ever offered as he unlocked the basement door and slid it open. He'd been so patient and he may have missed her struggle to bring the babe into the world, but her struggle to keep it breathing would be just as satisfying. He'd rip it from her breast and make her beg for it's life, that'd make up for what Mama had ruined. That and getting to shoot her right between the eyes. Or perhaps he'd use his hands to squeeze the life out of her, or the saw to cut her down. He grinned at that thought. He was so deluded by his own fury fueled fantasy that the threat that Thomas had become totally escaped his mind. He'd forgotten that danger he saw before and went in with complete confidence that Tommy would simply roll over on his back like the dog he'd always been. It never crossed his mind, not once as he descended the stairs that perhaps he would meet his match down there. It should have stopped him in his tracks to see that Thomas hadn't even gratified the sound of his footsteps with so much as a glance. He was still knelt down beside her, back turned to Hoyt.

"Guess you're tougher than you look," Hoyt said as aimed the gun at Tommy and looked over his shoulder at Ronnie, who was holding her baby, "I'm sure glad you are. This wouldn't be as much fun without you here, missy."

Thomas held her gaze firmly as Hoyt's words surrounded them like a cloud of dust. He wasn't going to choke on them, not this time, but Hoyt would. With his eyes, he promised Ronnie he'd make him eat his own words, force feed him if he had to like Hoyt had once done to her. An eye for an eye. Thomas smiled at her with a nod just to make sure she knew he wasn't afraid, not in the slightest.

"Get outta my way, boy," Hoyt muttered venomously.

Thomas took his time as he rose to his feet. Before he'd even turned to face Hoyt, the man steadied his aim on instinct. He'd spent so long looking down on Tommy through that hole in the ceiling, he'd forgotten what it was like to stand at an arms length from him. He stood tall, taller than Hoyt remembered and his frame seemed larger too. All the more reason to keep the gun on him, but Hoyt wouldn't let him see that shadow of doubt that crept over him. Finally, Thomas turned.

Hoyt let out a devious chuckle, "Well look at you, Tommy. You sure are brave, ain't you, showin' that face of yours like it's somethin' to be proud of."

There was nothing in Thomas' eyes that begged for mercy, nothing that even suggested he'd registered what Hoyt had said. He was stoic, still as a rock with his eyes locked onto his older brother's from under his heavy brow, head down just to remind him how small he was in comparison.

Hoyt's grin began to vanish as he readjusted his grip on the gun again, "Best do as I said, or I'll give you a few more scars to cover up."

Ronnie clutched Penny tighter when Thomas took a step forward and Hoyt's finger flew to the trigger. He didn't pull it, but he was ready to. Instead, he kept his mouth shut as Thomas closed the distance between himself and the barrel. He only halted his steps when it was touching the center of his chest.

"Tommy," his name slipped out of Ronnie's mouth softly, but uncontrollably.

Hoyt's eyes cut to her briefly before they flew back to Thomas, "Listen to her, boy. Move."

He shoved the barrel into him hard, but Thomas didn't budge. He hadn't even blinked.

"I'll do it," Hoyt muttered as his finger tightened on the trigger, "last warnin'."

Words couldn't describe the fury that swelled in Hoyt's chest when a smile pulled at Thomas' scarred lips. He was oozing confidence that Hoyt had never seen him wear before. Not a single word he cast at him would make him move. His hands were shaking again as he craned his head up at his 'little' brother.

"Fine," he croaked out, "have it your way."

"No, don't," Ronnie cried out before she turned her face away, she knew she couldn't stop him.

He fired, but instead of the ring of a shot, there was a click and then silence. His eyes widened and the fear he should have had the moment Thomas stood finally infiltrated them. He'd wasted his last bullet on the buck.

"Fuck," he swore under his breath as he stood unarmed before the mountain of a man he'd kid himself into thinking he could beat.

Thomas' hand flew up and grabbed the barrel of the gun, which Hoyt held onto with a vengeance. Ronnie took her opportunity and fought her aching body as she slid off the table. She set Penny down and reached underneath the wood until her hand found the metal handle of the saw.

"Don't you fuckin' dare," Hoyt bellowed needlessly as he struggled to keep the gun in his grip.

Ronnie cried out as she used all of her strength to pull it to her. Every movement was met with searing pain, but it didn't matter, they had him. She pulled the trigger switch and a growl ripped out of the machine, but it needed one more pull. She screamed as she revved it back one, two, three times and finally it roared to life, screaming war right alongside her.

She leant back and lifted her feet, "Tommy," she yelled over the buzz of the saw as she kicked it and sent it sliding towards him, "give him hell."

Without taking his hand off of the gun, Tommy leant down and met the handle with a skilled grip. With no difficulty whatsoever, he raised it into the air. Ronnie watched with wide eyes, she'd never seen him in his element before and boy was she glad he was on her side. With strength like that, they'd win more than just the battle.

His head turned and over the roar of the chainsaw he sternly said, "Go."

Ronnie grit her teeth as she pushed herself off the ground and grabbed Penny. She held her tightly, her little face buried in the crook of her neck as she bolted past them towards the stairs. She turned back briefly to watch in awe as Tommy lowered the saw onto the barrel of the gun. The satisfaction she gained from Hoyt's terrified expression was enough to heal each and every wound he'd ever dealt her, but this was about Thomas. He'd finally taken the power he'd always denied himself of into his own hands and it was evident. He looked like a warrior, hands decorated in her blood, sweat dripping from his brow and eyes locked on his target. This was his fight now and she had no doubt he would be victorious. She tore herself away and pushed on up the stairs to the metal door that had been left wide open. Luda came into view, extending her arms to her with urgency.

"Ronnie, thank god," she said as she helped her up the last step, "come on honey."

She ushered mother and child through the hallway, towards the front door, only separating from her to reach for a rag that was lying on the kitchen floor. She hurried back over and quickly laid it over Penny.

"Alright, now you listen close," she said with serious eyes and one hand on the babe, while the other held up a pair of keys, "you're gonna take these and you're gonna run. Run down the road until you reach the slaughterhouse, that man from before, his car is hidden behind it. Get in and go Ronnie. Don't stop."

"But Tommy-"

"I know," Luda said with a glance behind her, "I'll send him after you, but Ronnie if he ain't there within an hour, you have to go. Do you understand me?"

Ronnie reluctantly nodded. She understood well enough that the only thing that mattered now was Penny's safety. Luda wasn't blind to the pain the thought of leaving Tommy behind caused and she placed a hand on Ronnie's cheek.

"He will find you," she said with a nod, "even if it's not tonight, he will. You know that just as well as I do."

Tears welled in Ronnie's eyes as they listened to the scream of the saw below and Luda pulled her in, arms wrapped tightly around the two of them.

"I am so proud of you," Luda said into her neck as she squeezed her eyes shut to keep her own tears from falling, "you lived, Ronnie and you're gonna keep on doin' that far away from here, you both are."

She pulled away and placed her hand on Penny again, the ghost of a smile pulling at her lips as she allowed herself a brief moment to gaze at the grandchild she'd never know. She took a deep breath, "Now go," she said firmly.

Ronnie turned and reached for the door handle. She threw it opened and a warm breeze rushed in to engulf them. There was a storm after all, a much needed rain was about to fall. Before her feet started to fly, she turned back. Luda stood there with silent tears staining her hallowed cheeks as she prepared herself to watched them disappear. Ronnie was overcome with a love for her she didn't realize she had. Against all the odds, the woman had become the mother she never had. She had been their champion all along.

"Come with us," Ronnie pleaded, "there's life out there for you too, I promise you, there is. You can live, Luda, but not here. Please."

Luda gave her a sad smile and shook her head, "I made my bed a long time ago, Ronnie and sometimes, it's best to die in it and leave livin' to the livin', to the worthy and that ain't me."

Hoyt began to scream below and Ronnie held Penny a little tighter as Luda stiffened in response to the sound, "Do as I said, girl. Run."

"I'm comin' back for you," Ronnie said, stubbornly as she started to make distance between her and Mama.

A proud gleam made it's way into Luda's wet eyes and she gave her one last smile, "I say this with all the love in the world, Ronnie. I hope I never see you here again."

Ronnie's brow furrowed as a broken smile of her own fought it's way through her tears. She knew Luda was right, but it felt like a knife to the heart when she turned away from her, leaving her image to the night and that house. She did as Mama asked, she ran. Luda stood there a long while, long after Ronnie had disappeared past the trees and listened to the hum of the saw below.

The barrel of the gun fell, sawed in half by Thomas and Hoyt tumbled backwards to the floor. Thomas kicked the remains of it out of his way as he stepped closer to his older brother, saw held high in the air. Hoyt pushed himself back with his feet as he looked up at him, a grin on his face as a laugh escaped his throat. He'd seen Thomas like this before, wild eyed and wielding his trusty companion, but to be the one at the end of the saw was truly something he couldn't fathom. He was man after all, it didn't matter how much Hoyt called him a boy and the only thing he could do was laugh. In order to keep some power within his grasp, he couldn't care. He'd tell him to do it.

"Go on, Tommy, you won," Hoyt yelled up at him, all the fear in his eyes hidden behind his hungry grin, "now do what you do best."

Thomas barred his teeth as his grip tightened on the screaming saw overhead. In Hoyt's grin, he saw it all. He saw every hand he'd laid on him when he was an innocent, he saw every scar he'd dealt him, physically, emotionally, spiritually. Everything he'd taken from him and everything he'd done to her. He wanted to do it. He wanted to make him bleed and paint the walls with every ounce Hoyt had in him. He had the power to, he felt it in the deepest part of himself, he could make him pay limb by limb. An eye for an eye, just as he'd told Ronnie, but everything that Hoyt had taken from him started with his innocence. He never gave him a chance to know what innocence felt like, he had taken it before Thomas could understand the price he'd pay for losing it and now he wanted to corrupt him further. He begged for death at Thomas' hands with a smile. Hoyt wanted him to do it, he knew that and he knew if he did, he'd be right back where he started. Hoyt's monster, his dog, void of reason, even though he had all the reason in the world.

Thomas screamed as he threw the saw down to the the ground. With his newly freed hands, he reached forward and grabbed Hoyt by the throat. He lumbered over until he was on top of him and pulled him upwards, ignoring the way his fingernails tore through his skin as he hauled him over to the table. He threw him down, hand still tight around his throat and the rage of decades in his eyes.

"You fuckin' coward," Hoyt choked out with hateful eyes, "finish it boy, kill me."

Before he could utter another venomous word, Thomas' fist landed on his mouth. Then his eye, his jaw, his cheek. Thomas landed punch after punch until his own fist ached from the fury that had finally been let loose after being bottled up inside him for so long. Each blow fell harder than the last and not an inch of that smug face was left untouched. He wanted it to feel fully satisfying, he wanted each hit to bring him peace, but the bloodier his brother became, Thomas slowed his movements, because it wasn't the answer. As much as he wanted it to be, killing Hoyt wasn't the key to his redemption. He'd already found it in his wife and child, in an innocence he hadn't expected to obtain after years of sin. Hoyt had failed in that regard, he'd found it despite his efforts. Killing him was Thomas' own choice to make, not his and he wouldn't. Hoyt had been right all along, this was the end of the line. It was the end of his reign, the end of his grip on Thomas and the end of everything the Hewitt household had once stood for.

He stopped his fist mid air as he studied Hoyt's blacked eyes and swollen lips. His hand shook, it wanted badly to find its target again, but Thomas withheld. Hoyt started to cough, a good few of his teeth flew out and fell to the floor, along with the blood that spilled from the side of his mouth. He was disoriented, but aware enough to know that Thomas had ceased his assault on him.

"Come on, Tommy," he said weakly as he struggled to find his face through the blood in his eyes, "I know that ain't all you got for me."

Thomas furrowed his brow as he watched that grin spread across Hoyt's mangled face once more and shook his head, "No more," he whispered down at him.

He ripped his hand off of his throat and swiftly turned away from him. He had no desire left to look at the man he'd once called a brother. It was done and so was Thomas. Hoyt tried and failed to push himself up, but ultimately decided he didn't have the strength to stand.

"Don't leave me here, Tommy," Hoyt struggled to choke out as he listened to Thomas' heavy footsteps ascend the stairs, "don't be a fool."

No more, Thomas reminded himself as he shut out Hoyt's insistent words. He was the fool and one day he'd die knowing that damn well, but not by Thomas' hands. He wouldn't give him the power to erode who Thomas had become from his grave, because in truth, that's all Hoyt wanted. It was all he ever wanted. Power. Power that had always been Thomas'. He could have the house, he could have this life, he could try and fail to be half the man Thomas was, but he couldn't have them and above all else, he couldn't have Thomas. Jealousy was what would still that black heart of his, whether it was on that table or when he was in his bed, alone. Judgement would find him and Thomas could walk away clean, free of guilt. He reached the top of the stairs and made sure to close the door behind him, leaving Hoyt in the cage he'd built for himself.

With little to no light to guide her, Ronnie began to think she'd never find the slaughterhouse. Her bare feet were sticky with blood, she didn't need to see them to know that, but they were numb and for that she was glad. It was one less ache she could feel as she stumbled down the road, still bleeding from childbirth. She held on tightly to Penny, gently patting her as she cried against her shoulder. She couldn't blame her, she'd been in the world for nearly two hours and hadn't had a chance to nurse yet.

"Almost there, baby," Ronnie said softly as her eyes struggled to find something to move towards in the darkness.

She squinted when she saw a large shadow not too far off from her. That had to be the slaughterhouse, she thought to herself as she pushed on. By God's grace, it was and she found herself moving faster towards it, ignoring the ever growing ache of her lower half. As she got closer, her head began to move as though it was on a swivel, scanning every which way for the car Luda had promised would be there. In her excitement, she forgot she wasn't totally free of her chains just yet. One of the braces around her ankles still had links hanging from it and it caught under her feet, sending her forward. Instinctively, her hand flew up to cradle Penny's head and she quickly turned. She hit the ground hard on her shoulder, it knocked the wind out of her, but she immediately pushed herself up to look at her newborn, breath or no breath. Her heart had stopped beating until she heard Penny cry and then she joined her, quickly lifting her off the ground and back in her arms. She hugged her, pressing a kiss to her soft, tear stained cheek.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," she whispered frantically, thanking god she was unharmed.

She wanted to rest there so badly, but thunder overhead reminded her this place had no safety to offer them. She looked up at the black sky as a breeze rushed past her and closed her eyes for a moment.

"Not just yet," she said to herself as exhaustion crept into her bones, her body was urging her to stay put, but she knew better, "we have to move."

She pulled Penny back and gave her a nod, "Almost there," she said again before she forced herself back to her beyond battered feet.

She could feel rain tapping the top of her head and little drops soaking through her gown as she pushed on. Her breath came out ragged as ever as she fought through her pain and the stubborn will of nature. It seemed this place was just as unwilling to let her go as Hoyt was. Finally, the old building loomed before her. Not a light could be found as she stood in front of it, it was engulfed in darkness. It's doors had been left open and the only sound that crept out of it was the eerie cry of rusty metal hooks swaying in the wind that rushed through. She could just barely see them in there, their shadows playing tricks on her as they moved slowly back and forth. She turned her head to the right, praying the car was just around the corner. Her chains threatened to catch again when she involuntarily found herself moving faster and she ground her teeth together before she forced herself to slow down. It proved more difficult than she thought to ignore the feeling of imaginary shadows nipping at her back, but she had more determination than ever to get herself and Penny to some sort of safety. The rain started to sting a little bit more, rendering her completely drenched and clouding her vision as it barreled down on them. Finally, she rounded the corner.

"Oh, thank god," she breathed when she saw the car parked by one of the cattle gates.

She hurried over to hit, head bowed to keep the rain out of her eyes. She fought with the key for a moment, cursing under her breath until she was able to throw the door open and crawl inside. She shut it quickly and let her head rest against the seat with Penny lying in her shaky hands. The poor child started to cry again and Ronnie roused herself, fighting off that heavy exhaustion that had only grown further. Without hesitation, she ripped open the buttons of her gown to let her daughter nurse. After a moment's struggle, the babe latched and she let out a relieved breath. Her fingers gently wiped some of the rain off her little face before she turned to look out the window. With no way to tell the time, she decided she'd count as she searched for him in the rain.

"One Mississippi, two Mississippi," she whispered as she wondered just exactly how many Mississippi's would make up an hour.

One hour would be enough. He'd make it, she knew he would. He had to, because she couldn't fathom starting that car and leaving him behind, not when they'd come this far. She had a promise to keep, but he had to give her the opportunity to see it through. She continued to count as she watched the rain flood the dry ground underneath them. She couldn't remember if there had ever been a storm during her time there, it felt like a lifetime since she'd seen rain and by the looks of it, the earth agreed. It drank it up with desperation, not a single drop was left to rest on the surface. Her counting combined with the drone of rain shelling the car made it hard for her to keep her eyes open. She found herself nodding off after awhile, her eyes only flew open occasionally in response to the thunder, which became few and far between, until one particularly loud clap forced her head back up. She jumped so hard that Penny's little hands flew up, startled. She gently patted her until she had settled again before she returned to her search out the window. She'd long since lost her count by then and the lightning had stopped illuminating the area around them as often as it had been before. She knew she'd fallen asleep, but for how long she wasn't quite sure and he still wasn't there.

"Come on, Tommy," she said quietly as she patted Penny, who started to cry again.

When she looked down at her daughter, she started to cry herself, because Luda was right. They had to go, with or without him. She'd have to trust that this place would release its grip on him too or that he'd fight his way out of it for her, but that was easier said than done. It came with a pain far greater than the physical ache she'd been left with. How was she supposed to live when she had to leave her heart behind?

"I know," she said to Penny through her tears, "I know. We have to go."

She wrapped the rag Luda had given her around Penny and placed her on the passenger seat. She allowed herself one more glance out the window and with a sob, shoved the key in. When the engine sputtered to life, she let herself fall apart as she backed it out of its hiding place. She drove slowly down the driveway and towards the road. Once she reached it, she paused, hands gripping the steering wheel so tightly she knew her knuckles were ghostly white. She took a deep breath to stifle her sobs a bit, she knew she'd need to have a clear mind to navigate the empty and dark roads that lay ahead. Her foot hovered over the pedal, hesitating along with the rest of her to leave. She had imagined when she had finally gotten the opportunity to be free she would have taken it and ran, but it was all wrong. He wasn't there. She looked at Penny again and she knew if he was, he'd tell her to go, he'd make her. She steeled herself just as he'd want her to before she pressed on the gas. Just before she could turn out onto the road, a loud bang on the window forced her to slam on the breaks. For a moment, she cursed herself. If it was Hoyt, she'd damned both of them by waiting so long, but then the door opened. Through the darkness a pair of tired, blue eyes drank her in and found their light again.

"Thomas," she sobbed as she rushed out of the car to embrace him.

He was soaked completely, but his arms felt warm, like heaven around her. She could have stayed like that for an eternity with him in the rain. He pulled her back and held her face in his hands, but she quickly closed the distance between them and jump up to kiss him. He returned her passion tenfold and tangled his fingers in her wet hair to press her harder against his lips. There was reverence in their kiss, it was something to be cherished, like water after days without drink, like the first glimmer of sunlight after a storm. They only separated when they heard Penny's cooing from inside the car. As they stood there in the open air, drenched in blood, sweat, tears and the hot Texas rain they smiled. They were free, she saw it in his eyes.

"We made it," Ronnie said and for the first time, she believed it too.