Wipe The Slate Clean
By Breech Loader
Breech: Sorry for the long delay. It's just that there's been so many other things... I should really quit working on three or more fanfics at once... I'm glad though, that I've still got some work on this. I like Meg, and it's one thing to make somebody the show's Butt Monkey, but another to abuse them liberally.
So what happens next for Meg, Brian and Stewie? Why, they stop at a cheap motel, of course. Oh yeah, and I've also decided that why stop killing in the first chapter? Meg had better look out for the Giant Chicken...
Chapter Four: Roach Motel
"The Tee-Pee Motel," Brian, now dressed in a black leather coat and jeans, read the sign, a cigarette drooping in his mouth, "And it's got a bar, which is good because I need a drink," he looked accusingly at Stewie, who had endeavoured to remind him pretty much the whole way that he didn't have a drink.
"Now 'Roach Free," said Meg flatly, with Stewie in one arm, "Classy. Still, the cards still work, and while they work I'm pumping them." The three of them went to the front desk.
"Yes gentlemen, what would you like?" the secretary asked, barely looking up from her romance novel.
Meg sagged unhappily, and Brian saw it. Even killing the three worst people in her life would never convince Meg she was pretty – or even adequate – if people went on speaking to her like that. And he really needed a drink.
He glared and put out his cigarette right through the book the secretary was reading, "Whoops," he said dryly, "Now, miss," he said more sharply as she looked up, "I and my... girlfriend... want a room with two single beds, okay?"
Meg smiled at that, "Just overnight," she added, and used Lois' credit card.
After taking the minimum required amount of luggage to their room, and changing Stewie and feeding him and doing their best to ignore his protests, the three of them went down to the bar – mostly on Brian's insistence. Fortunately the place was so low class that nobody made any comment at all on Stewie being there, sitting next to Meg.
"I just can't believe the last 24 hours," Brian commented to Meg, lighting a cigarette over a small brandy, "I mean yesterday, I had a whole family. Today there's just you and Stewie. Yesterday I was going to kill myself. I really was. Today, I hardly feel suicidal at all."
"Yesterday I was your normal, everyday 18 year old with a conventional rifle licence," Meg half-agreed, "Today I'm a killer headed for Mexico. With a baby who's supposed to be dead, and a talking dog, and four dead bodies behind me."
"You mean three," Brian pointed out mildly.
"Hey, I still count that Stewie android thing as a kill," Meg smiled. She had left the shotgun in her room, but it had been tucked carefully under the mattress. She hadn't wanted to risk leaving it on its own in the car even for a moment, "And thanks for being so nice at the desk."
"Yeah," Brian looked at his drink, and drank it quickly, "Meg, you're... you're not ugly. People aren't even mistaking you for a man. It's just that if you... well, you... you're always wearing those same clothes," he pointed, "They really don't do anything for you."
"Also you've got this metaphorical 'Kick Me' sign on your back," Stewie agreed.
"I didn't know clothes had anything to do with it," Meg replied, taking a sip of what she hoped was cola.
"Well, you know those cheerleader tarts back in Quahog?" Brian asked her, "Well before they go to school each morning, they spend two hours making themselves up. And that is too much... but you just pull on the first thing you see," he took her hand, "You really aren't ugly at all," he told her.
"You mean that?" Meg asked Brian hopefully.
"I think that with a little effort on your part, you could get any man you wanted," he paused, "But I advise against anyone in this bar," he added with a small smile.
Meg coughed a little on the circulating smoke, "Well, I'm just going to be in our room, making sure nobody steals our stuff," she told him, "You're smart, Brian, so just bring Stewie to bed when you think he's ready. And try not to get too sloshed."
She walked out of the bar alone and headed back up to the room they had rented for twenty-four hours. It was the shortest length of time you could hold a room for. Although of course you could leave sooner, and many people did. She settled down to watch the television, which was coin-operated. Nothing on her, or Brian or Stewie. Of course, that meant nothing now that they were out of Quahog – Connecticut probably had its own serial killers and multiple murderers to advertise. And the cards were still working, so obviously the bodies hadn't been found because those cards wouldn't work after they were found dead.
Unless the cops were tracking her with them...
No, she was getting paranoid. She'd used them plenty of times, and if the cops had wanted to bring her in, they wouldn't have waited this long to pounce. She'd made sure not to do anything illegal. Well, not since the murders thing.
She didn't regret killing her 'family'. She had ended three lives and she didn't regret causing that end. Three family members who had abused and neglected her. At least Brian had the guts to apologise. But Stewie she wasn't so sure about. She might have to kill him, and she wasn't really looking forward to it. She sat on the edge of the bed, and started to undress and change into her nightdress, finally walking over to the balcony and staring across the landscape. Thoughtfully, she took the shotgun out from under the bed, and put it in its holster.
The landscape wasn't exactly the best thing to look at, but it was miles better than the dank room, and at least it was a clear night, even if it was only a half-moon out. A full moon would have been more romantic, but what did she have to be romantic about?
So she'd let Brian live. Well, he had said sorry, and that had been all she'd wanted to hear from any of them. And then she'd offered to take him with her. And he'd accepted. And he was being so nice.
Am I really that desperate? she wondered, He is a dog, after all.
But he really is charming, and clever, and he looks so good in a tux, and WHY THE HELL AM I TRYING TO RATIONALISE HOW I'M FEELING?
"I saw you watching her leaving," Stewie smirked up at Brian.
"Shut up," Brian pushed his drink towards Stewie, "Here, have some."
"You know what happened last time I got drunk," Stewie pointed out, "Oh no. I'm not letting this one go. I've got it now. You like dangerous women!"
"What?" Brian glared.
"You want to get screwy with the woman who killed her father, mother, and brother, and who held a shotgun to your head – twice!" Stewie said gleefully.
"Pft. I'm just going along with this so I can get a fresh start," Brian insisted.
"Yeah, right," Stewie sneered, "I may be sexually confused and an evil genius, but I'm not blind. You could walk away from Meg at any time. She's letting you do so if you wanted to. There's dozens of good reasons why. I mean, she's ugly, she's ignorant, she's boring..."
"She's none of those things!" Brian hissed sharply despite himself.
"She's a dangerous murderer, she held a shotgun to your head twice, and she's killed your best friend, his wife and his son..." Stewie continued to list, watching Brian squirm.
"They had it coming!" Brian yelled back abruptly, "Like hell did they notice how bad I've been feeling for months! Like hell did they notice that I was ready to kill myself! Like hell did they notice anything except fucking and drinking!"
"By going along with her you're aiding, abetting, harbouring a fugitive, committing credit card fraud, and the kidnapping of a small baby..." Stewie leant back in his chair, "Just for a start."
"Not if we don't get caught!" Brian growled.
Stewie mentally noted the 'we', "And of course, she's still got that handy shotgun and the training, looks good with it, doesn't she?" he half-asked, "So she could easily kill another person."
"She won't," Brian insisted firmly, "Well..." he hesitated, thinking about all the people who had treated Meg like trash, and all the people he'd also quite like to see dead, "She might..."
"And you're going along with all of this just because you're her friend," Stewie finished smugly, "Come off it Brian, there are only two people you're fooling – yourself and her. Want to know what I would do?"
"No," Brian said bluntly.
"I'd go up to your room right now... and blow that bitch's head right off with the handgun you tried to kill yourself with," Stewie produced a handgun that Brian found very familiar indeed.
"You what... how did you... get this?" Brian stammered.
"Oh, I picked it up and reloaded it on my way out of the house. Thought it might come in handy," Stewie grinned and put it in Brian's hand, patting it, "Go on. Do the right thing. I'll come up behind you and watch."
Brian sighed and stuffed the gun into his inside pocket. Then he headed out of the bar and up to his room. He really should have knocked though, because Meg spun around from the balcony, pointing the shotgun at him again.
Brian's heart skipped a beat. Stewie was probably right that she might kill again – but he didn't want to shoot her just in case. Although this made it three times she'd pointed that shotgun at his head. Besides, she had perfect gun control. He put his hands in the air hastily, "It's just me, Meg."
"Oh, Brian," Meg sighed in relief, "You gave me a shock. I'm sorry..." she holstered the gun again, "I guess I'm just kind of jumpy right now."
And perfect other things. Brian's eyes began to gravitate to other parts of Meg's body that had really come into shape over the last couple of years. How had he not noticed a body like that? The answer hit him like a sack of bricks – the clothes. Normally she wore clothes that made her look like a sack of potatoes. Right now she was wearing a nightdress that Lois must have bought for her a while ago – pink, lacy and very nearly see-through.
And the weirdest thing was that, because her self-esteem was so low, she had no idea of how good she looked in the moonlight.
"I just... I thought..." Brian tried to find his voice, "I figured I'd help you work out how we'll all be sleeping. I mean, there's two beds, but three people, except one of them is a dog and-"
"Brian, don't worry, I figured it all out," Meg replied, "I'll sleep in this bed, and you and Stewie can use the other. Look; Stewie sleeps at this end, and you sleep at the other end. No problems. Even if Stewie wets himself, you won't be bothered."
"Yeah... yeah, that's exactly what I had in mind," Brian sighed.
It was a couple of hours later now.
Brian hadn't been able to sleep. He hadn't even bothered to undress. At least Meg was asleep. Was he crazy? He stared at the filthy ceiling, imagining that he could hear the scuttle of cockroaches across the floor of the room. He could be back in Quahog right now...
...in the police station, telling Joe about how he'd been smoking weed and contemplating suicide when he'd seen Meg finish off killing her family, then hold him at gunpoint, threaten his pathetic life, and spare it, and keep him from killing himself, then when he refused to come with her, she handcuffed him to Peter's corpse and left for Mexico...
And he'd be calling on his cousin Jasper – who, much as he loved him, could be incredibly annoying and he returned to Los Angeles and there were like, 500,000 writers in LA as it was and his chances of even getting a single article published were somewhere around zero...
And then a few days later, Meg was hunted down just a few miles from the Mexico border. And he was called as the sole witness to testify against her, as if his testimony was really needed to convict her, and he stood there and watched her sobbing in the stand, not for her crime, but for the unfairness of the world. The whole world against Meg Griffin...
And he listened complacently as the emotionally abused, 18 year old girl was given three consecutive life sentences, without parole...
He tried to visit her in prison, tried to say sorry. Upon seeing him, her first reaction was that she punched him so hard he lost a molar. She didn't want or need to see him, and he didn't blame her...
So he went back to LA, to his failure of a career where he was known as nothing more than a porn-director who had won a few tacky awards, and a wannabe script-writer, and now even Jasper didn't think much of him for how he'd testified against Meg after she'd spared his life, and there was too much tension so he just had to move out...
And one day, in an apartment that was little more than a kennel, he stared at the wall, trying to remember the last time somebody had smiled kindly at him. He picked up the cold metal device. He released the safety, and cocked the gun, and pressed it to the side of his head...
Brian's eyes snapped open sharply. His heart was pounding from the dream, and he was shivering, and it was a few seconds before reality warmed him back up again. He'd drifted asleep for a moment there, but the dream had been vivid enough. He ran it over in his head, sitting up and on the edge of the bed. He wanted to be here. Not because it was his only choice, but because he wanted to be here. With friends and family.
Meg was sleeping in the other bed, facing his way – and with one hand still on that damn shotgun. He walked over to her bed, looking down at her. Without her glasses, she looked so much like Lois. Except without the same sadistic, machoistic tendencies and perverse sexual nature. Meg was so much more innocent.
Well, a little less innocent now...
He bent over just a little, and kissed her on the cheek, "I'm so sorry for all those times I hurt you," he said softly. On her bed, Meg stirred a little.
"Ah-HA!" Stewie laughed gleefully. Brian whipped around, "I knew it!" The baby was holding a video camera with an ominously blinking red light.
"Give me that camera, you little bastard," Brian hissed, trying to keep his voice low enough to not wake Meg as he hurried towards Stewie.
Stewie grinned and backed away, "Brian loves Meg..." he mocked the dog, "Just wait until this is all over YouTube! It'll have more hits than Peter's video of himself and Lois carefully naked while not actually showing anything!"
"I said give me that!" Brian made a dive for the camera, and missed.
"Or I could show it to Meg," Stewie mused, "I bet she'd just love to see the special goodnight kiss," he backed out onto the balcony, with Brian following him as quickly and also as quietly as possible – not an easy combination.
"No!" Brian whispered, "You know she'd get the wrong idea!"
"Or maybe she'd get the right idea," Stewie said smugly. He held up the camera, and a few seconds of footage played back repeatedly. They would give any straight teenage girl the 'right' idea, "You know, this video could be worth a lot of money to the right people..."
"So... it's blackmail, is it?" Brian asked, growling softly.
"Blackmail is such an ugly word," Stewie agreed, "How about the word 'extortion'?"
"Extortion's a good word," Brian admitted.
"But unfortunately completely inaccurate," Stewie said almost sadly, "Extortion is when I just..." he pulled out a baseball bat, "...beat you until you give me what I want!" He began whacking Brian on the back and shins.
"Damn!" Brian tried to roll with it and yelp in pain quietly, "Ow! Stop that! Okay, okay, blackmail it is!"
"Right," Stewie quit beating Brian, who groaned quietly, "Just remember I've got this tape okay? Meg sees it, and she knows you've been kissing her in her sleep. The cops see it, and suddenly you're not such an unwilling accomplice to a quadruple-murder, are you?"
"Oh, shut up, you little bastard," Brian told him, "I only kissed her cheek anyway."
"Why Meg, anyway?" Stewie asked with a sneer, "Some sort of cheap-ass substitute for Lois, huh?"
Unseen to them both, behind the balcony door, Meg was standing in her nightdress, trying to breathe regularly as she listened. Brian and Stewie had made quite a lot of noise, and it had woken her. She probably shouldn't be listening, but she was. She put one hand to her cheek thoughtfully.
"No," Brian said firmly, lighting up a cigarette, "I don't want to try and date another Lois. Besides, Meg's nothing like Lois."
"Yes. That's why I haven't killed her already."
"It's got nothing to do with that," Brian scowled, "First off, like I said, Meg's nothing like Lois. If I was looking for a Lois substitute, I'd hire a hooker and pay her to fuck me in a back alley. Second off... I don't have to justify myself to you, Stewie."
"I thought I was the one with the camera," Stewie smirked and waved it around a little, "Why Meg?"
"Okay," Brian took a deep breath, "You know what? Quagmire was right. I am a pretentious, jumped-up, delusional, self-absorbed prick who thinks only of himself and never helps anybody. So I tried to kill myself. But Meg stopped me because she thought there was something in me that was worth saving, and you know what? It took her doing that for me to realise that she is a good person and I care about her, okay? Now fuck off."
"And not just the fact that she's finally got some T and A?" Stewie asked him mockingly.
"I said, fuck off!" Brian almost barked at him.
Stewie ran back into the room as Brian returned to staring at the landscape, and spotted Meg hovering by the door to the balcony. It was obvious from the look on her face that she'd heard quite a lot of what they had just said.
"Brian likes you," he smirked, nudging her, before climbing back into his end of the single bed he was using.
Meg looked out around the door at Brian, who was still leaning on the balcony with his back to her. Was he... crying? She wanted to go and hug him, but that would mean not only admitting she'd seen him crying, but also that she'd heard everything else.
It was probably better, in the circumstances, to go back to bed. Maybe things would be better in the morning.
Breech: Yo! What will happen in the morning? Read and Review to find out!