Hey! I've been in love with the Mad Max franchise for so long, and Fury Road really got me back into it. I'm gonna take a stab at my own fanfic, and hope I don't die trying.
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When he left, he never meant to go back for that pitiful boy. Max is a lone wolf- a survivor, in a world that had gone mad. He'd forgotten what love was, what it felt like. He'd forgotten what it was like to hold his wife and baby boy in his hands, before they were ripped away from him prematurely.
But what he saw with Nux and Capable, it was something different. Two people, who knew nothing about each other, formed a bond from the ashes of nothing, and turned it into something. Something beautiful, yet he would never let himself think the word. Max knew what it was like to lose; he lost more than he gained, for most of his life. It wasn't fair- but he accepted it as the way the world was. In those two, he saw something kind, something harmless, in a world where he thought that wasn't possible. As crazy and psychotic the war boy seemed to be, he was a bit sweet. Even Max recognized it.
He drives. He drives for miles, on one of the motorcycles Furiosa and the Vuvalini left him. He didn't want to leave the Citadel- Furiosa had created hope for those people, hope that was justified for once. But for a man that's been moving for as long as he could remember, staying in one place for any extended period of time would drive him mad. Furiosa knew it as well- the last smile they shared as he left her life forever was a symbol of forgiveness. A sign that she knew his struggle, a sign that she forgave him for leaving. She hoped he'd be back- and deep down, so did he. Just not yet. Not now.
His eyes begin to tear up from all the dust that was kicked up to his face, and begin to cake itself into his clothing, especially his jacket. He has no idea where he is going- just somewhere where he can find some sort of quiet, before being inevitably drawn into something again.
A silhouette appears before him, and before long, he recognizes it as the canyon that Nux brought down. His heart drops, remembering the young boy's sacrifice he made for the rest of them. He wipes the dust and sand from his dirty face as he drives faster toward the rocky wreckage, and stops a few hundred feet away from the debris. He looks down, contemplating what he's doing. He knows the war boy is dead... he has to be. No one could have survived that crash. He just needs closure- the thought would endlessly tear away at his mind until he finally saw it for himself. He doesn't need any more guilt on his mind. He wasn't doing this for him- he was doing it for Capable. The young girl deserved some sort of happiness, and if he could return that to her, he would.
He grunts a few times to himself, almost arguing to himself against it, and kick starts his disheveled bike. He takes off towards the canyon, knowing all too well what unsavory characters could be awaiting him there. His bike sputters as he stops it again, and he slowly slides off of his bike. He slings his small pack over his shoulder, and keeps a small snub nosed revolver in his right hand. He scales the canyon, trying to carefully venture over the debris. After a few stumbles, and some cuts and potential bruises, he finally makes it. He stands at the top of the crumbled rocky tower, scanning the debris below. He sighs, feeling like he's wasting his time. Parts of tires and jagged metal litter the landscape, and Max almost loses hope of finding any remains at all of the boy. He's come this far out of his way- he's not about to stop now.
The sun in the distance appears that its going to set soon enough. He didn't realize how long he'd been driving for- in the wasteland, he's lost his sense of time when alone. Jumping from rock to rock, he quickly and carefully scales down the rocky crevasse, this time being sure not to stumble or fall. His finger tracing over the hammer to his pistol, as he slowly makes his way to the shell of what used to be the top of the rig. He creeps towards the wreckage, wondering why he's filled with trepidation. Kicking pieces of jagged metal recklessly, he reaches what appears to be a door- at least what remains of it. He lifts it, and covers his mouth from the stench that begins to permeate his nostrils.
A torn apart Rictus, barely even recognizable, lays there covered in his own dried up blood, most of his body torn apart. Max drops the door back on him, not caring to be gentle for him, not even in death. He was the reason Nux was left behind- he's glad that he got what he deserved. Max steps on the door, hearing the crunching of Rictus' dead and brittle bones under his weight. He spots what look like boot prints, and his heart skips a beat. He didn't come here to save him- he came here to find his body. The hope of finding the kid alive makes him travel louder and recklessly. He follows the trail, as he gets to the mass of the wreckage. He notices the large boulders and scraps that shut off the exit out of the canyon, as the footprints he was following lead him to an abrupt stop. A patch of black sand lays where the prints cease. Max grabs a handful of it with his free hand, bringing it up to his nose, smelling its contents. Blood. He knows the smell. He's been around it long enough.
The crashing sound of metal against rock sounds through the canyon, and Max nearly jumps from the sudden noise. Throwing the blood soaked sand, he looks around, his hand tensing around his small gun. Scanning the enclosed terrain, he spots a small hole where the dirt met the rock wall. Smaller than most would notice. However, Max is not most. Knowing very well that buzzards could rip him to shreds if he ventured down into those dark caverns, he walks over, and slides down feet first. He knows he could die at any point in his life. He no longer fears death.
After a few seconds of sliding, his feet hit solid ground. Complete, utter, harrowing darkness. He tries to let his eyes adjust as he steadily walks forward, his free hand out in front of him to stop himself from bumping into anything.
"Bloodbag!" He hears, a sort of loud whisper. Thinking his mind is just playing games with him, he spins around, hoping the voice is real. His eyes have now somewhat adjusted to the darkness, and he spots a chain shine against the small amount of light beaming through the hole he just went through. He drops his gun, hearing a loud clank against a metal floor. Rushing over to the chain, he spots the young war boy, with a beaming, almost childish smile on his face.
"Bloodbag! I knew you'd be back for me. You had to. I know that-" He is silenced by Max's hand roughly grabbing Nux's lower jaw in frustration. Max puts a finger up to his lips, letting the boy know he needs to be quiet. He nods at Max, as the larger man tries to violently open Nux's restraints to no avail. He was cuffed with a pair of police handcuffs to a bar attached to the metal wall behind him. The place looks familiar- like something man made, buried by the apocalypse. Max winces at seeing the site of the cuffs, sending his mind back to his days of being an officer of the law, when he was still a father and a husband.
"You and me both need to get out of here, before they come back." Nux rattles his restraints impatiently. Max doesn't notice how battered the boy is, with wounds littered across his already scarred body. Trying to reach across the floor, grabbing his pistol quickly.
"Cover your ears." Max says to Nux. He does so right in time, as he shoots the weak chain of the cuffs, breaking them apart. Max gets up and makes his way to the exit, stopping after hearing Nux fall to the floor.
"Need some help." He says smiling, belly first on the floor, looking up at the Road Warrior. Max grunts loudly, and quickly grabs Nux's arm, pulling him off the floor. He slings Nux's arm across his back, grabbing the boy's side to give him leverage. Nux winces, and max feels a hot, sticky substance leak onto his hand. He quickly realizes that its blood, and a lot of it.
"Sorry." He whispers, finding a better place to position his arm. Right when they get walking together, their bodies tangled together awkwardly.
"Bloodbag?" Nux asks quietly, almost sounding defeated. Only a few more steps to go, and the boy would be out of his life soon enough.
"Mmm?" Max makes a gruff noise, informing him that he's listening.
"Thanks for coming back for me."
Max nods, his grip on the boy becoming gentle.
Hey, so that was it! I made it a bit short, as its kind of a test to see what does and doesn't work. If you don't like the present tense style, let me know. It just didn't feel right to write it in the past tense for a story with this much narration. Anyway, please review! Remember, reviews are liquid crack to us writers.