Disclaimer: I own nothing of Life Is Strange. If I did, Amberprice would be the endgame for sure.
Dead (wo)men talking
"Fuck." Everything was dark for a moment, pitch black. A low chuckle next to her could be heard, though. It sounded so familiar, so much like her. But that was impossible, right? I miss her so much. Not the first time I imagined hearing her voice. Chloe Price, blue-haired wannabe pirate, opened her eyes and sat up quickly. Perhaps a little too quickly, though, as a wave of vertigo hit her. Taking a deep breath to steady herself, she looked at the person next to her. Her heartbeat had been accelerated ever since that chuckle, but actually seeing her - damn, it felt as if Chloe's heart was ready to beat straight out of her chest.
"Rachel…" she whispered, looking at her girlfriend. Still girlfriend? Former girlfriend? Does disappearing (dying) count as a break-up? Not waiting for an answer, Chloe starting to smile; flashing a broad, warm smile that had always been reserved exclusively for Rachel. It was a smile nobody had seen in that hellhole Arcadia Bay for months. "Rachel Amber?" There was another chuckle, and a very soft smile in return; a sweet, genuine smile that could melt her heart. "Chloe Price."
Time seemed to stand still, the world tilting on its axis when blue and hazel eyes met in a staring contest, for the first time in over six months. How much can you truly love another person? What can another human being possibly mean to you? Both would answer that you are unable to know the answer to that until you lose the one person you always loved the most.
Leaning in, the blue-haired punk pulled Rachel closer, pressing their lips together. Breathing in that all-too familiar slight jasmine scent of hers, feeling her warmth, tasting her lips, Chloe felt whole for the first time since late April. Joyce and David had forced her to go to a doctor, but she hadn't wanted to talk to him. He was kind enough, but he wasn't Rachel, the one person who always understood her; whose pseudo-therapy lessons actually helped sometimes. But he had prescribed her some pills, insisting she should take them, even if she refused to talk to him beyond a "hello" and "good-bye".
Seeing the helpless, but pleading glances of her mother, she had finally relented and took the prescribed Prozac. Not without using google first, though, so she knew what it was used for - the doctor probably told her, but who listens to some shrink anyway? The pills did kinda help her - she managed to leave her bedroom again, and invested all of her energy into trying to find Rachel. Her best friend and significant other being missing was the darkest timeline indeed.
"I wish you'd never gone through that fucking shit." It was a deadpanned statement, and Rachel stared down at her Converse. "It was your worst nightmare, the one thing you feared since day one; that I am leaving you without saying good-bye – and I always knew it. I will regret that it happened for all of my existence, Chloe." Shaking her head in disbelief, Chloe took a deep breath, half-remembering the awful pictures she had seen…somewhere, some when… We're both dead? Damn. "Well...I don't think you had much of a choice in that matter. I doubt you wanted to die in that fucking bunker." Now also studying Rachel's Converse, the blue-haired woman lowered her voice. "Can you tell me? What happened there?"
Rachel shrugged. "I don't see why not. We are both dead after all. Nobody can hurt us here anymore." Chloe wished that her girlfriend wouldn't be so damn calm about the fact that neither of them survived their teenage years. Remembering getting shot in a damn bathroom in fucking Blackhell wasn't fun. "It was so awful, you know; waking up in that room to the flash of a camera. At first, I thought Nathan was talking to his father, but it turned out to be Jefferson, that art teacher. The least I could do was keep looking away from the camera...but damn, did that piss him off. I feel like he broke at least four or five ribs when he kept kicking me for this insubordination. But then he left at some point, leaving me alone with Nathan."
Chloe studied her face, the far-away look in her hazel eyes, the way Rachel grabbed her hand a little too tight. "I tried to plead with him, begging him to let me go, reminding him of the fact that we always used to be friends. Bad idea…" A deep breath and a sigh followed. "He was high on some drugs; started to rant about you, and I called that bullshit. In the end, he told me that if I can prove to him I care more for him than you, he'd let me live. So I wrote some letter to you, telling you I hooked up with someone. But in the end he laughed, mocking me for believing him when he...erm...Chloe...you're crying…"
The blue-haired woman shook her head, surprised. She didn't even notice that until Rachel reached up to gently wipe the tears away. Her girlfriend pulled her in a closer embrace, allowing Chloe to ruin her favourite blue flannel with salt water. "I should have been there. Fuck. I mean, if I had gone to that party with you, like we planned it…before I got sick that afternoon..." Her blonde girlfriend shook her head. "So you would have fucking died in that damn room with me? Nathan would probably have killed you in front of my eyes before killing me or vice versa."
Rachel shuddered at that thought. She had been following Chloe around in the form of her spirit animal, seeing her girlfriend/best friend falling apart - and dying. All the times she saw Chloe die and Max Caulfield rewinding the time to stop that. Not even soaking her brain in bleach would ever be enough to wipe these memories. She shouldn't feel this glad to have her blue-haired partner in crime at her side, but couldn't help it. Perhaps seeing Chloe happier than all the times since late April helped ease her guilt. I just wish…that she could have been happy without dying.
"This is like the worst fucking conversation I ever had…I mean, where the fuck are we even sitting, Rach?" Chloe asked, trying to get a little break. Rachel shrugged, a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth as she spread her arms. "You tell me, Price!" Looking around, the darkness seemed to clear a bit. Or maybe it had always been clear, but unimportant compared to Rachel. "A mountain range? We're up really high, aren't we?" Unfamiliar mountains shone brightly under the pale moonlight, and neither of them had ever seen the stars and the Milky Way with such detailed clarity – and that close, for the matter. Where ever they were, it was a place without any hint of light pollution. The blonde tilted her head to the side, putting some hair behind her left ear. "Hmm. Well done, Price; it seems like we finally climbed Mount Everest."
Rachel wrapped an arm around Chloe's shoulders again when she saw the frown. "You promised me you wouldn't leave me," Chloe told Rachel. Both knew that it was an accusation, and not entirely unjustified. While it hadn't been willingly, she had left Chloe behind. "I didn't want to leave you, so I kept watching. There was that bluebird following you around. Yeah, that was me. Not that you truly noticed or knew it. But I tried to watch over you in that form...failing hard. I failed so much worse than Max. It felt so awful to see you die over and over again…" There were no words for that, the way it felt to have your heart ripped into tiny pieces again and again.
Most prominent was the night at the junkyard. How Chloe had strutted across the all too familiar territory of American Rust, with a gun in hand. And how she died, shot in the head by Jefferson. This was by far the worst death of her Rachel had witnessed. What hit her most was the way Chloe's body laid next to her own, reunited in the most morbid way ever. That moment...in these months only watching; Rachel's heart had broken so many times - and that was the one hit to shatter it; entirely turning it to dust.
This triggered something in Chloe, memories she had but didn't have at the same time, like the pictures of Rachel in the Dark Room. It was hella bad to sort through them and gave her the worst headache in her entire life. Life? Existence? Afterlife? That was all becoming hella difficult. "Fuck. Max...that tornado. Finding you...on that junkyard. Me, keeping dying: In that bathroom; with that stray bullet; the train...again and again. It's like - I feel I had to die when you were gone. Even after I knew you might have lied to me, I couldn't help it. Whenever I died, all I could think of in these few seconds between life and death was that I am going to be with you again. That everything is finally going to be okay, because I'll see you again."
She couldn't believe she actually said that out loud. So fucking cheesy. For a long time, Chloe had been trying to find Rachel again, but deep inside she had always known. What made everything more awful was the fact how few people actually cared about Rachel's disappearance. James Amber had sat Chloe down to talk, reminding her that there was no way Rachel would leave without contacting any of them. That was it, though. Besides herself and Rachel's family, nobody even cared that she was gone. How ironic that Rachel had been right about that fact – she had had many acquaintances in Blackwell, but not a single genuine friend.
"Hmm. Look who's crying, now, Amber." Rachel punched her girlfriend's shoulder lightly before they kissed again, holding the other as close as humanly possible. "I wanted you to be happy", Rachel finally whispered, voicing the one thing she had actually prayed for, but Chloe shook her head. "Without you by my side? No chance." The punk closed her eyes and recalled the memories of the week that never happened. "It feels so weird. I mean, I was really glad Max was there, she's my best friend. But at the same time, I knew that I managed to live without her for five years. Sure, it was quite horrible until you came along, but I could live through that. I used my diary to write letters to Max; letters I would never send. I did that for ages - until the day when I fixed the truck and you ended up in hospital. Holding you close, I knew I could get over that; live without Max."
The blonde had half a mind of trying to stop Chloe, but she wanted to hear that, as painful as it was. In a way, this was one of their pseudo-therapy sessions. "But without you, Rach, fuck, I didn't even function enough to leave my bed - let alone the house - without pharmacologic help. And while I tried to keep myself busy with the search, I deep down knew you would never leave without me, that you had to be dead…and my mom kept glancing at me with these weird looks and...shit." Getting up, Chloe started pacing in front of the park bench. A park bench, just like the one by the lighthouse? Damn, her imagination really was the shit, wasn't it?
Rachel stared in the distance, trying to stop the anger. Who cared if she had died? Yet, Chloe's reaction to that made her blood boil. If she had any say in that, she would tear Nathan and Jefferson apart limb by limb. Or maybe roast them slowly over some fire for hours, until their skin starte… She caught herself. Too easy. I want to see them suffer as badly as we had to suffer. Torturing them in the worst way human imagination could come up with was too nice for them, for what they did to Chloe. "Rach? That smile? What crazy stuff are you thinking of?" Chloe was all too familiar with that smile. For many people, it was a nice and pleasant smile, but she had always been able to see past her girlfriend's facade. This kind of smile, plus the way her hazel eyes seemed to fucking burn meant a painful death for someone.
Deciding - well, duh, knowing - that Chloe would get a serious kick out of that, Rachel stretched before elaborating her idea. She effortlessly kicked her legs out before crossing them at the ankles and made a show of studying her fingernails. "Well, I thought of some stuff I'd love to do to Jefferson and Nathan for the fact that they fucking dared to kill you – us." Rachel smiled, a real smile - damn, she had gotten the tone just right: perfectly nonchalant, slightly dry and disinterested, as if she had just commented on the weather.
Not only did she get it just right, Chloe's eyes lit up and she smiled broadly. Now this was a game they were both familiar with. "Awww, Rach, that sounds really good. Tell me more, pretty please?" Sitting back on the bench next to her girlfriend, Chloe waited eagerly for more details, hoping she could add some ideas of her own as a repayment for what they did to her angel. "So, you know Edgar Allan Poe?" Chloe rolled her eyes. "Give me some credit, Amber. He wrote some sick shit about murder and stuff, creepy and all that. Of course I know who he is. Isn't there even a Prospero in one of his stories? Not that this Prospero can compare to the two of us acting the hell out of The Tempest." A quick kiss for consolation later, Rachel picked up where she left.
"So he wrote this one short story called The Pit and the Pendulum which might have inspired me. I won't bother you with details, but I entertain the idea of using duct tape to actually restrain them. Above them is that hella big razor-sharp pendulum that is swinging back and forth and slowly descending, designed to kill them - and they have to watch every moment of the descent. Even when they close their eyes, the soft movement can be heard, that sharp whirl." Damn, Chloe should be shocked; complaining or wondering about her girlfriend's mental sanity, but actually she couldn't help but smile. "Hells, yeah. Slow, painful, artistic. I do love your style." Were they seriously flirting over this? Perhaps death could to that to a person. And it kind of fit them.
"I had the best teacher in devising ideas that are just perfect dark." Just as Chloe contemplated kissing her just once more – some proper, making out kissing, maybe - a new voice startled her. "It seems to me you found the one person with the right humour and imagination to match your own, sweetheart." Both women froze as a middle-aged man came into view. For obvious reason, Rachel had never met him in person, but she heard the stories and saw the pictures. "William…" she whispered, while Chloe jumped up again and hugged her Dad with all the might she could muster. "Damn, sweetie, you've got some muscles there. Now it's your turn not to break me." Sobbing, but happy, Chloe grinned. "That's a dollar for the swear jar, Dad!"
"You're one to talk, Chloe. Between you and your girlfriend there, the two of you could probably amass enough money for a trip all across the world in less than two weeks." Rachel coughed slightly and tucked her hair back behind her left ear, trying to look somewhere else. "Don't try acting as if you're not there, young lady." He winked at her and smiled at Chloe before looking back at the blonde. "Normally, I would grill you about your intentions towards my daughter, but I feel that in these circumstances, I can let that be. Besides, it seems the two of you have way darker ideas of torture than everything I could come up with right now anyway."
"Dad...I missed you so much", the blue-haired woman whispered as they sat down on the bench next to Rachel. "I know, sweetheart, I know. I used to watch you for a while. Remember that raven that you saw? But then I saw it wasn't necessary anymore - you found someone to lean on." This was perhaps the best day Chloe has had in ages - too bad nothing of it was real. Or maybe all was real, but it didn't matter that much, because they were all just some dead people talking. A small hand grabbed hers and she looked up to face the beautiful hazel eyes she had grown to love so much.
"This is real. All of it is real. I am really here with you and I'm never leaving again." William smiled at the antics of the two young women who apparently had the ability to read each other's' minds. "So, about that. I am here to give you two a choice." Unconsciously, Chloe grabbed Rachel's hand tighter, holding on to this all-too familiar hand as if it were her anchor, her only lifeline. "What do you mean, Dad?" A choice? What choice? She wasn't going anywhere without Rachel.
"You can go on together or you can go back." Rachel rolled her eyes. "Wow. Now that's hella dark, Mr. Price." He winked at her. "Why so formal to your almost father-in-law, Rachel?" This was getting more surreal by the minute. "The thing is that you weren't meant to die like that, especially not so young. So you have been offered the opportunity to go back, and try and finally make shit right." What was that supposed to mean? "So you mean that I'm not going to that Vortex Club party?" Rachel inquired and Chloe rolled her eyes. "Damn, Rach, I should have totally gotten you into some more nerdy movies. It's never that easy."
William smiled at his daughter, who had changed so much. Short, blue hair and tattoos was one thing - but she gave off the vibe of being an adult now, something Rachel surely was to blame for. "You'd go back to the day you first met, in fact. But when I say make stuff right, I mean that for most people, not just you - yes, even David and James." Chloe closed her eyes, sighing, annoyed at the prospect of likely having to be nice and somewhat pleasant to step-douche, but if you tortured her, she would admit he was good for her mother. Maybe.
Rachel was already two steps ahead of this madness, her brain running in overdrive. "But...that would mean we forget - everything." Forgetting the night when she started the fire, admitting her feelings to Chloe. Forgetting The Tempest. Forgetting the way how nervous she was when she had her first kiss in the middle of an empty street with Chloe. Forgetting the first time they had sex and the countless other times that followed. Forgetting Chloe's laughter; her smiles; the way she held her late at night... Forgetting that she loved the punk with every fibre of her heart.
"Yeah, you would, both of you would forget the last three-and-a-half years. But, since you are meant to be, this is the least to worry about. You'll make these memories once more; and a lot more." It was a difficult choice, wasn't it? They would have to go through so much more shit. "I feel like we have to do it, though. I mean...I made David's life hell and you didn't even speak to your family anymore." Rachel took a deep breath to settle herself. "If that is what you want, Chloe, I'm in." William nodded. "Just as I thought. You get one gift for your journey - one thing of your choice that you will remember. Or rather…feel it."
One thing? That was hard. Chloe contemplate some lottery winning number for a moment, or maybe all the scores in the NFL year: Whatever she could use for quick money; to get both of them the hell out of Arcadia Bay. Or maybe the knowledge that David and her mother were good for each other? Perhaps...yes...Wells' secret alcohol stash. That bit of blackmailing could be total fun to use!
Beside her, Rachel also thought about it. But no matter what she thought of - her love for Chloe; that her father was wrong but probably just desperate; that Damon would hurt her...yet… "Rach, why the deep sigh?" Chloe's voice was full of concern. She hoped she hadn't gone against the blonde's wishes when she announced they would go back. "There is just...I wouldn't want to forget about us, actually. But I don't feel like this is what we would need. In fact, there is only one thing we need to remember, more than anything: Arcadia Bay will kill us both if we don't get out of it as soon as possible."
"Now that's pretty dark", William replied, but he knew that this was probably the best they could choose. "Rach, are you sure about that?" Glancing at Chloe's father before looking back at her girlfriend, the blonde woman nodded. "Yes. I know that we'll work our relationship out. There isn't a world, timeline or universe where I wouldn't love you, Chloe Elizabeth Price." Completely ignoring the presence of her father next to them, the punk grabbed her girlfriend to kiss her for what might be the last time in a while. "I love you, too. More than my own life", the blue-haired woman whispered when they finally let go, the need to catch air becoming overwhelming.
"Dad...I also love you", Chloe murmured, tearing her eyes away from Rachel. "I know, sweetheart. And I'll always be with you. In there." He pointed to her heart. "Be kind to yourself, sweetie." Getting up, he placed a quick kiss on his daughter's beanie before looking at Rachel. "Be good to her, will you? Take care of her for me." He turned around, humming Burning the Midnight Oil, before slowly walking into the darkness. They were good for each other, he had decided on that fact years ago. And maybe, he might have forgotten to mention that it was one thing of each their choices. There was no way his daughter would suffer alone any longer than she had to.
"We'll do it right, Chloe, I swear it." "Hells, yeah. This time around, we'll get that shit right!"
I want to clear up the setting of Blackwell, as I found that somewhat inconsistent in the games:
Drew is a senior about to graduate.
Chloe, Rachel and Steph are sophomore students.
Mikey, Dana, Victoria and the rest are all freshmen.
Also, the extended senior programm is fully optional in this story.
The first two chapters will cover the events of Before of Storm and stick very closely to the game/in-game dialogue, with a few minor and major differences. But the real canon divergence begins on the morning after The Tempest. It will mostly stick with Rachel's or Chloe's point of view, but Max will also be featured at a later point.