When Chloe dropped Max off in front of Blackwell's stairs, barely acknowledging her tiny, almost apologetic wave goodbye as she gassed the engine and sent her tires squealing, she wasn't thinking clearly. She was raw and angry, so goddamn angry, and all she wanted to do was drop a bomb on Arcadia Bay and drive far, far away as its ruins smoldered in her rear-view mirror.
Everything fucking hurt and, even though she knew she'd have to make it up to Max eventually, she had to admit to herself that it felt good to just rage at someone. Someone who could take it. And Max could take it.. just like Rachel Amber had been able to take it... once.
"I wish you were here now, Rachel," Chloe muttered almost absently to herself as she idled her truck at an empty intersection, debating whether or not she wanted to head to the junkyard. A drink and some more practice with that revolver didn't seem like a bad idea...
Beer and guns? Max's scoffing, questioning voice sounded in her head, Great combo.
"Ugh," Chloe grunted as she turned back in the direction of her house, remembering that she had left the gun on a box by her bed, "I'll make it up to you Max... someday, when I'm not so messed up."
"C..Chloe?" Max stumbled through the name, trying to act like she wasn't panicked, that she wasn't terrified. That she didn't just fuck everything up.
"Hi Max," Chloe replied, her voice weak and small and very raspy. "Man, it's good to see you again. Seattle was a bust, huh?"
"Uh.. I...," she started, trying to wrap her head around this, what she was seeing. It couldn't be real... it just... couldn't. Did I just erase my entire life? And what was all that with Victoria and all the other Vortex club members back there? Did I really change history that much?
"Whoa Max, you're pale as a sheet," Chloe commented with a tiny series of coughs. It took Max a minute to realize that she was laughing. Shit, this is not good. I gotta find a way back before-
"Why don't you come in Max? A glass of water looks like it would be a good idea for you right now," William remarked, ushering her in with a gentle hand at the small of her back before shutting the door behind her. "You remember where the kitchen is right? Chloe can guide you."
"She remembers dad," Chloe rolled her eyes as she manoeuvred herself in the hallway, turning around with an ease that told Max that she had been like this for awhile. "Come on Max, I'm pretty sure there's still leftovers from breakfast. You do remember mom's cooking, right?"
"Uh.. yeah! Of course I do, I'll just be a second!" she called back as she turned and caught William's arm before he could join his daughter. "How.. what...," she tried, but no words came out past the lump in her throat. Thankfully, her head was still trying to wrap itself around everything else that was different in this reality, so the tears were stalled. For the moment.
William's face fell as he watched the emotions flicker and battle across the small girl's face. "My little Chloe's still pretty much the same as you left her, Max Attack," he assured her, the use of Max's childhood nickname pulling a small smile from her, "She just... adopted a bit more of a wild streak when she made a new friend at Blackwell."
"New friend?" Max asked softly, her eyes flickering over to the kitchen as Chloe's voice playfully called out, "I guess I'm just gonna have to eat all the rest of these by myself then if you guys aren't gonna hurry up!"
"We'll be there in a minute, Chlo!" William called back, his face warming with a smile at the sound of her voice. "Joyce will have something to say about you eating all those pancakes when you have a visitor over you know!"
"It's impolite and not proper and blah blah blah," Chloe groaned back, but there was a laugh in her voice that Max hadn't heard in a long time. And it made her heart ache. God, she's so different...
Seeing Max's expression fall even further, William put an arm around her shoulders, the weight warm and familiar. "Max," he started, comforting her for entirely the wrong reason, "I know it hurts to see Chloe like this, but she's still the same girl you remember. She hasn't changed a bit since you left for Seattle, you know."
"Uh, yeah, no... I just..."
"It's shocking, I know," he nodded, before giving her shoulders a quick squeeze, "But you two will have time to talk about it, now that you're back. But you wont have time to eat Joyce's delicious grub if we keep standing around here yammering! Come on," he grinned before turning and walking into the kitchen. Towards his daughter. Who was more different than he could ever even know.
Chloe was just going to pick up the gun and a box of ammo from her room before heading back out to the junkyard, but a wet pile of chlorinated clothes draped over her desk chair stopped her. Max, she thought, unruly emotions rising to some stupid place behind her eyes. "Shit," she muttered, picking at the damp sleeves of Max's horribly plain grey sweater, remembering how dumb and cute she looked in it. "Shit, shit shit," she growled again, throwing herself onto her bed and whipping out her phone. Sorry for being a douche earlier, she tapped out, hope ur still not mad me.
She swung her feet for a few moments, hoping that Max would reply quickly. When she didn't, she reasoned that Max was probably in class and wouldn't touch her phone. Too much of a goodie-two-shoes, she snickered to herself.
Rolling over, she dropped to the floor beside her bed and snatched up the gun that was on the cardboard box right in front of her face, fishing underneath the bed with her free hand until she nudged the rattling ammo box. Grabbing six bullets, she loaded the revolver, flicked the safety on, and dropped out the window. Time to pass some time, she thought to herself, laughing again at her own ridiculousness, thinking about how Max would've rolled her eyes so hard at her just then if she were with her.
After a couple of hours at the junkyard, having consumed more bottles than she had shot, Chloe picked her way through American Rust to her hideout. The Chloe Cave. Where she had spent so many hours with Rachel a long time ago. Pulling out her phone as she sat down in a dilapidated lawn chair, she nursed the remains of her beer while scrolling through her texts.
No word or response from Max.
"Fuck," Chloe snapped at herself, "Max is probably avoiding me now because-" she cut herself off there. "No. No, if Max is avoiding me, it's because she's too stupid to realize that I just needed to blow off steam. No biggie. I wasn't aiming any of it at her, not really anyways. If she wants to be like this, ignoring me when I need her, then fine."
Finishing off the bottle, she threw it to the ground, stomping on it when it refused to shatter, and got into her truck, grumbling the whole way home about how people always left her. It wasn't until she arrived back at her house that she started to realize that it could be her fault.
"So uh... your.. dad mentioned that you made a friend at Blackwell?" Max asked, the fatherly title feeling foreign on her tongue while talking to Chloe. Not step-douche. Not step-dick. Just... dad.
"Yeah... Rachel," she murmured quietly as her face fell, pulling Max out of her thoughts at the unexpected reaction. "She is...," she began, then caught herself, her expression turning sour, "Was my angel. We met at school not long after you left. She helped me.. you know, not be so lonely."
"Chloe, I... I'm so sorry," Max started as she looked into her best friend's face, the differences overwhelming her as much as the similarities, "I.. I should have called.. or wrote? Or texted at least..."
"You should have," Chloe replied, but her tone lacked the anger that her former self once had. Or was it current self? Shit, I need to get out of here. "But Rachel helped. Until she didn't anymore."
"Any.. anymore? What do you mean by that?" Max asked, almost afraid of the answer she would get.
"She was too wild.. too reckless. But I guess that's why I liked her, at first. She was the opposite of me. We had a lot of fun.. for a time. Until she took it too far one night," she explained, anger growing steadily in her tone. Now that's the Chloe I'm used to, Max thought.
"Too far?"
Chloe took a breath in and let it out slowly as she picked at the red blanket around her waist, speaking softly, "Rachel is the reason I'm stuck in this wheelchair, Max."
Max's clothes were still draped over the back of the chair when Chloe finally returned home from the junkyard. Before she could escape into her room, however, her step-douche had caught her on the stairs, and wasted no time in lecturing her about something or other.
"Sir yes sir," Chloe tossed sarcastically over her shoulder as she vaulted up the stairs and escaped to her room.
Almost escaped.
"We're not finished here soldier!" David commanded, and Chloe felt herself jerk backwards as a large hand suddenly grabbed the collar of her jacket, pulling her back down the three steps she had managed to gain toward freedom. Knocked off-balance, Chloe teetered, scrabbling aimlessly at the banister with one hand and the wall with the other. Found no purchase with either, and landed with a hard thud at the base of the stairs, her shoulder absorbing most of the impact.
"What the fuck man?!" she exclaimed, staring up at David in anger and fear. "What is your problem, douche?!"
"Chloe, I didn't mean-" he started, immediately offering her a hand to help her up. His face was sincere, but through her angered haze, Chloe only saw the face of the man who had made her life a living hell since her dad left her.
"Get away from me jerk!" she snapped, knocking his arm away before charging up the steps, clutching her throbbing shoulder and holding back her tears.
"Chloe-!"
Slam!
"Bastard!" Chloe cursed, her eyes roaming sightlessly over her room, her vision blurring as she fought not to cry. "Fuck!" she finally gave, and hot tears spilled down her cheeks. Still cradling her bruised shoulder, she dropped heavily to the floor at the foot of her bed and curled inward on herself as she tried to steady her breathing.
"Suck it up Chloe," she told herself with a snarl after several chest-heaving minutes. Collecting herself, "So what, you're on your own again? Big deal. Stop crying, get high, and shut down. You've done it before. You're fine."
Taking one more forceful breath in, Chloe stood abruptly, pawing angrily at her wet cheeks as she stumbled over to her desk, swiping desperately at the clutter in search of her joint and ashtray. "C'mon, c'mon, come on. Shit! Where did I put it?!" she hissed, sitting down to better access the drawers underneath the desk, when her backside was met with the sensation of cold.
"Not entirely on your own..," she muttered to herself as she pulled Max's sweater and jeans out from underneath her, "I still have Max..." She traced her fingers over the damp fabric, a smile ghosting over her face as she thought about the best friend she had thought she lost. Had lost, she corrected herself, her smile fading as she tightened a fist around the sleeve of Max's sweater. Apparently, this morning was the last straw for her. Dumbass!
"I thought you could handle it Max!" Chloe growled, and she could feel tears threatening to make their appearance again. She buried her face into the sweater despite the overpowering smell of chlorine, and pretended she could feel Max close to her. "You made me start believing that.. that I meant something to you.. something more than just.. just another depressed and pissed off teenager. I thought you were gonna stand by me no matter what, you know? But you're not standing here now... and I think.. I guess I drove you away.
"Maybe it's best you don't come back. Maybe you are better off without me..."
The longer Max talked and laughed and ate with Chloe, William and Joyce, the less she wanted to leave. This is how it should have been. Chloe's here... she's happy. We're together.. it's.. kinda perfect. "What are you thinking about over there, Maxaroni?" William chuckled as he touched Chloe's cheek affectionately.
"Uh..." Oh, you know, just about the fact that there's another Chloe in the world, but not like this Chloe and how you don't even exist in that world because you were supposed to die in a car accident. Nothing huge or anything.
"She's trying to figure out your secret recipe mom!" Chloe chirruped quickly, but there was a look in her eye as she shot a glance across the table at Max. A look that Max had come to know and recognize very well. Chloe was covering. She knew something was up.
While Joyce laughed in response to her daughter, said something about the recipe staying the secret mother-daughter Price family recipe, Chloe gave Max another questioning glance. "Wanna go for a walk Chlo? Like we used to?" Max asked unthinkingly. Then winced. And almost cried. Shit, way to go Max. Just alienate her some more, why don't you?
"Hey. It's okay Max," Chloe assured her softly as she wheeled herself away from the table, then around it to meet Max in the hallway, where she had retreated in awkward embarrassment. "A walk sounds like a great idea."
"Ah, alone time at last!" William said from the kitchen, the grin evident in his tone.
"Ew dad! So gross!" Chloe groaned, dropping her chin to her chest in embarrassment, her voice slightly muffled as she continued, "Max, could you get the ramp for me? It's just outside the front door."
"Yeah uh.. sure," she mumbled, almost tripping over herself to set the ramp over top of the steps to make an even bridge from the threshold to the sidewalk.
"Thanks Max," Chloe smiled as she gestured with a nod for Max to join her. "You can leave the ramp on the steps, for when we get back."
"I.. yeah. Look, Chloe, I-"
"Seriously, relax Max," Chloe started, looking over at Max with soft eyes, "You don't need to walk on eggshells around me alright?"
"Um.. eggshells.. right. Yeah, I just-"
"You need to chill out, okay? Look," Chloe said as she rolled onto the open, empty sidewalk, "I've got just the thing to help you."
"Help me...?" Max asked, watching as Chloe's eyes sparkled with mischief. "Oh no Chloe, no. I know that look-"
"I'll race ya to the park!" she exclaimed, "I'm probably like, ten million times faster than you on your puny little sticks you call legs!"
"Oh you are so on!" Max laughed as Chloe zoomed ahead of her, laughing her head off as well. "Cheater!" she called after her back as she took off in hot pursuit. And as she chased after, she started to forget all about trying to find a way back. Maybe I belong here.
Chloe had given up trying to find her weed. She had vaguely wondered, after five minutes of frantic searching and another fifteen of lackluster poking around, if David had confiscated it the moment she and Max had left. After she had dared Max to kiss her.
"God, I've ruined everything," she groaned aloud, completely forgetting that it was two in the morning and that normal people were probably sleeping. Like Max. Max was probably sleeping. And her phone was probably off, or on silent or airplane mode or.. or something. Whichever mode it was in, Max was probably ignoring her. Was ignoring her. She hadn't answered the first text Chloe had sent, nor the three consecutive strings of texts that Chloe sent in half hour intervals after the first. Wait, no, Chloe checked her phone again. Four, she corrected herself. I've sent four loads of texts to her.
"Max, what did I do?" Chloe whimpered, rolling over onto her side as she lay on her bed, and stretched her hand out to toy with Max's sleeve once more. It was mostly dry. Unlike her eyes. "Max I'm so sorry... please Max... please come back. I'll try to do better, please... I promise." And maybe it was the lateness of the hour, or the fact that her emotions weren't dampened by the effects of her pot, but Chloe finally allowed herself to let go as she sobbed, clutching Max's sleeve as an anchor, "Come back. Come back to me."
"Yeah, I've just been taking pictures and going to classes, nothing too exciting," Max explained with a small shrug, attempting to stuff her hands in her pockets, but only the tips of her fingers fit. Stupid preppy clothes, she rolled an inward exasperated eye at herself.
"Would you...," Chloe began, and her voice was so hesitant.
"Yeah?" Max turned to look at her, noting her far off expression as she gazed at the few kids still running around in the sand.
"Come back. Come back to me," Chloe's voice said, but the words didn't match her lips.
"Sorry... what?"
"Forget it," she said, and this time, the words matched. Max shook her head in confusion as Chloe continued to watch the children. Auditory hallucinations.. so not a good sign. "You wouldn't want to take pictures of this pod in a cast anyway. I know I'm not a very dynamic subject."
Oh... "Oh, Chloe. No. I'd love to take pictures of you sometime!" Max enthused, but Chloe didn't turn around. "I.. I just thought I heard you say something else..."
"You must be daydreaming as much as I am," she laughed, finally turning her head to look over at Max. She sobered slightly, glancing back at the now empty park as she continued, "You've been out of it since you came to see me. Look I.. I know this is.. weird, and.. I get it if I've been boring you. It's just been-"
"Chloe," Max spoke quickly as she placed a hand on her shoulder. Paused for a moment as she wondered why Chloe didn't react. Winced. Oh. Right..."It's been so good to see you again. I've been having a great time."
Chloe glanced over at her slowly, a smile curling her lips upwards before noticing Max's hand resting on her shoulder. Her face fell once more. "Right. Uh, we should.. head back. My nose is uh, starting to get cold."
Max wasn't coming back. She was gone. Just like Rachel was gone. Just like her dad was... gone. And Chloe... well. Chloe was spiralling. The loathing and anger and hatred and rage that was, for so long, directed outwards at other sources, other friends, other events... it all started rounding on her. Like one giant hissing, spitting monster, it reared its scaly, horned head and loomed over her.
She and Max had vanquished those monsters once. With their pirate swords and salty battle cries, they had hacked their way through lightning storms, bed-ridden monsters and broken bones. They challenged sickness and horror movies and the death of beloved pets. And still came out swinging on the other side. Together.
Rachel had chased away the monsters too, once. She was more subtle about it, approaching the quivering beast of Chloe's depression with soft feather touches and warm kisses. She had banished the loneliness that loomed with loving looks and rescued her from tears with a strong embrace.
But neither Max nor Rachel were here to save her now. Chloe herself was all she had now. Feeling helpless, she dropped to her knees at the foot of the bed and fished around underneath the frame until she pulled out a battered first-aid kit with trembling hands.
They were halfway through Blade Runner when Max started falling asleep. Her eyes unfocused on the screen until the images blurred, and then became black as she dropped her head awkwardly onto the bed by Chloe's arm, the top of her forehead brushing against the skin there. Her sleep-laden mind half expected to feel Chloe playing with her hair and so didn't immediately register anything strange with the warmth she felt seeping through her scalp.
Then- "Chloe, stop... that tickles."
"Stop what Max?" Chloe started, then dropped her voice lower, her tone warm and gentle, "You're probably dreaming.. you always used to fall asleep during movies."
"No, it's.. no, I'm still awake," she yawned, sitting up slowly and grinning over at Chloe, "I just thought... you were... playing..."
"Max? You alright?"
"Yeah, no. I'm.. I'm fine. I must've been-" Max assured her, before scratching absently at her forehead, her words halting when her fingers came into contact with something warm and slick.
"Uh.. Max? You look a little spaced out. Too much excitement? I get it, I can be-" Chloe offered with a slight self-deprecating laugh.
"You're fine, Chlo," Max said automatically, lowering her hand in front of her face, the scent of copper hitting her nose as she stared at her hand. But, I haven't rewound since I've been here, where is this coming from?
"Should.. should I pause the movie? You'll need to pass me my control though," Chloe said, tipping her head in the direction of her bedside table.
Right, Max shook herself slightly, a little unnerved by the sudden appearance of the blood, but not altogether tripped out. Because she can't- oh. Shit. As Max started reaching to pause the movie, she cast a cursory glance at Chloe's arm, lying limp on top of the bedsheets.
To see a dark stain starting to bloom from her forearm before spreading outwards and soaking into the sheets.
"Chloe, your.. your arm!" Max gaped as, without reason, long cuts appeared on the inside of Chloe's forearm, tearing open fabric first before sawing through the pale skin underneath.
"Max!" Chloe called out, though her alarm was not caused by the blood spilling out of her veins. In fact, she seemed not to be affected at all by the stripes slowly clawing their way higher and higher towards the crook of her arm. "Dude, everything's... you're fine, Max! You're awake, and you're with me, okay? You're with me.. you're okay!"
"You... don't feel it," Max shook her head slowly, scrubbing her palm against her pants, leaving streaks of red standing in sharp relief against their cream colour. "Do.. do you even see it? Am I just hallucinating again?"
"Okay Max... now you're starting to scare me," Chloe said, and her voice was indeed quivering.
It was the way Chloe had warbled out her name in barely disguised panic that snapped Max back to her senses. Almost. She just had to make sure of something first. "Uh, s-sorry.. Chloe. Um, could.. could you.. look at your left arm for me? And, uh.. tell me.. what you see?"
"Sure... are you sure you haven't, like, found any of my morphine stash or anything?" she questioned as she turned her head to oblige Max and her sudden, strange request. "It looks like my arm," she tipped her head to the side again in a way that implied a dismissive shrug, "Immobile, useless, and wasting away. Like it has been since the accident."
"Oh, uh... right," Max replied dumbly. She could have kicked herself for being so insensitive. "Uh, well...," she fidgeted around awkwardly before pointing weakly at the screen, "This is my favourite part."
"Real smooth, Mad Max," Chloe snickered, but let the moment fall away without further comment after glancing at the back of Max's head in concern one last time.
If this Chloe is unaffected by those cuts..., Max thought as her gaze once again unfocussed on the movie, Then.. does that mean it's happening to my Chloe instead?
God. She had forgotten how much of a mess cutting could make. "Fuck," Chloe hissed at herself as she stubbed her toe on the doorframe of the bathroom, fighting the urge to hop up and down. It was almost three in the morning and she had probably just left a trail of blood spatter from her room that'd she'd have to deal with. It was three in the morning and she had probably left a bloody handprint on the doorframe where she had steadied herself after cussing out her toe a few more times.
It was three in the morning and she was cutting for the first time since Rachel had gone missing.
"That's no way to cope, Chlo," she could hear Rachel say in her ear. "I can help you. Just give me the razor."
But Rachel wasn't there for Chloe to hand the razor over to. Neither was Max. Not like she'd want to help anyways, seeing as it's her fault I'm-
"Quit being an idiot Chloe," she snapped at herself as she shut the bathroom door as gently as she could before stuffing a towel at the base of the door. Turning on the light, she sank to her knees in front of her battered first aid kit as she continued, "It's time you grew the fuck up. No one's gonna coddle you anymore. Everyone who does, leaves. You're the only one left for you. Fend for yourself, the way you always have.
"The only way you know how," she muttered as she swabbed at her cuts with antiseptic from the kit, wincing only slightly before unravelling some gauze from the nearly-empty roll and pressing it none too gently over the evenly spaced wounds. I'll have to buy some more of that if I'm gonna make this a habit again, she mused distantly to herself as she bit off some medical tape and anchored both ends of the gauze. Probably will, she finished apathetically as she wound a cloth bandage around the whole patch job, tying the fabric just above her wrist. Just high enough so that the sleeves of her jacket would cover her handiwork.
Settling back on her haunches as the sharp stings in her arm from the antiseptic faded to a dull throb, Chloe sighed and took comfort in the familiar sensation that pulsed up her arm. "The only way you know how," she repeated. With numb fingers and a barely beating heart, she packed up the first aid kit, grabbed a washcloth and went to clean up the rest of the aftermath.
Max couldn't stop staring at the jagged cuts in Chloe's frail arm. The blood had long since started to congeal and crust over each wound – six, Max had counted – and Blade Runner had long since finished. But she still couldn't stop staring. I just hope she's okay. Wherever she is now, I hope she's okay.
"What's up with you?" Chloe asked after a long period of silence, "You've been staring at my arm all night. You barely watched the end of the movie. Or, the movie at all, really. How am I supposed to convince you that Deckard's a replicant now?"
Max bit her lip and considered doing something crazy. But I have to do it for Chloe. She's.. probably on her own right now. And besides, she did believe me when I told her about my powers in the first place. Hopefully this wont be too different. "Uh, Chloe?"
"She talks!" Chloe exclaimed with a small smirk before the grin faded from her lips at the serious set of Max's. "What's up?"
Moment of truth. "Do.. do you believe in alternate realities?"
Chloe's face dropped into a frown, eyebrows furrowing as her lips twitched again. "You're shitting me. This is one of those late night sleepover things right? Maybe you should start with something a little less heavy Max, like whether or not we'd be having hot monkey sex right now if I could-"
"Chloe, c'mon," Max blushed, fighting off her fantasies with another certain blue-haired version of herself, "Like, what if you had never gotten in that accident-"
"-if I had never met Rachel, you mean," she growled, "What are you suggesting Max? That, in some other world, I'm best friends with her? That I'd be this happy-go-lucky punk girl with blue hair partying at raves with you as my date? Dream on."
"Well, actually, you're not far off," Max blurted before she could stop herself. Oh my dog. I did not just say that.
"Max...," Chloe said slowly, her head tilting as her eyes narrowed.
Face flaming, "Can I borrow your foot to stuff in my mouth please?"
"What are you not telling me right now?" Chloe demanded, and Max dove for Chloe's arm in embarrassment, barely noticing that the dried blood had been cleaned and the cuts looked much more stark in the shadows created by the looping title screen.
"I... don't know how to explain," Max started hesitantly, her voice muffled by the mattress.
"Try. For me."
Raising her head from the bed, Max glanced at Chloe's arm. Chloe caught her look and nodded at her to speak as Max met Chloe's gaze. "I.. I think you might be in serious trouble. And I don't know how to help."
For the fourth time that night, Chloe rolled into a new position, feeling even less comfortable than before. She huffed and twitched her leg, tossed an arm wide, but nothing worked. Blinking her eyes open in the darkness, her gaze was drawn to Max's sweater, which had now found its home on one side of the bed, somehow. Chloe refused to call it Max's side of the bed. Too familiar. Too intimate. Too much promise of a life she didn't lead. A life she wouldn't lead. Not if she kept fucking up like this.
Sitting up abruptly, Chloe came to a rash decision. She would go to Max. Right now, at this ungodly hour. She would go, she would apologize and she would pray. Pray that Max would be willing to take her back.
"Desperate times, desperate measures," Chloe nodded to herself as she threw on her jacket, bundled Max's chlorine-stained clothes up in her arms and slipped out her window. She had hit the ground and was running towards Blackwell before she even realized that she hadn't put anything on her feet.
Desperate times, desperate measures, she repeated to herself over and over again, each foot fall sending reverberations up her spine and causing echoes into her heart. Echoes of a steady rhythm that told her that she was going to do something right, for once.
"Wait, hold on.. you're saying that-"
"Yes, Chloe!" Max repeated again impatiently, "We've been over this. You exist in another-"
"No, no. That part I don't care about," Chloe shook her head dismissively, "It's the part about Rachel that makes me think you're trying to pull my leg. Not that I'd feel it or anything, but you get the picture."
"Seriously?!" Max exclaimed incredulously, "I tell you about another reality where your dad is dead and you can walk and you have blue hair... and yet you doubt me because I'm telling you that you were in love with Rachel?"
"Whoa, back up. You never mentioned – in love?! Max, seriously, what the hell? She was seriously so out of my league at Blackwell! Completely in with those Vortex assholes, never bothered to give me the time-"
"Alright, Chloe I-"
"Like how could you even suggest that I'd even be friends with her, much less in love?! Always running around with her pretty face and that stupid smile and taking photos with Victoria even though you could tell that Victoria was jealous, or, hella jealous as Rachel would say, and Victoria didn't even know how good she had it, I mean-"
"Oh my dog Chloe, shut up!" Max groaned in exasperation. So Chloe had gay envy for Victoria. Noted. "Seriously shut up. Not the point right now," she told both Chloe and her internal dialogue.
"Oh," Chloe blushed, her brain finally catching up with everything she had said, "Right, uh. Sorry."
Max grinned slightly at the glow on Chloe's face before dropping her eyes to the scars on Chloe's arm. She bit her lip in worry as she absently raised her hand to trace the gashes. They weren't deep but... "There's so many," she finished softly out loud. "Chloe... what are you doing to yourself?"
Chloe glanced over but held her words, knowing Max's weren't for her. At least, not the her that Chloe knew. Then, "I think I'm gonna be okay."
A breath. "God I hope so."
Something about running felt so... freeing. So good. And those were two things that Chloe hadn't felt in a long time. Emotions high and all over the place, she let out a tiny whoop as she powered her long legs through a small patch of trees, cutting her way over to Blackwell's gate, only slowing when she approached to be more stealthy. And to catch her breath.
Despite the stitch in her side and the fact that her feet were bound to be chewed up from the gravel and pavement terrain that she had mostly ran along, it just felt... right to run here instead, for some reason. Like it was symbolic of... something. "Should've just taken the truck," she grumbled to herself as she leaned one hand against the stonework of Blackwell's perimeter and the other against her knee, the euphoria from the pure movement of running dying down and giving way to exhaustion. "Symbolism be damned."
The moon hovered over her as she took another few minutes to catch her breath and regain composure. Then, by its light, she scaled the gate and began to make her way over to Max's dorm.
"So...," Chloe started, her tone casual, as if discussing the weather. "How'd you get here in the first place?"
"A.. a photograph," Max replied, feeling weighted as exhaustion started to take its toll.
"Right, uh.. maybe we should just figure this out in the morning? You look ready to drop and I doubt having superpowers is gonna help-" Chloe suggested, but Max sat up with renewed fire in her eyes, her jaw locked with determination.
"No. I need to figure out how to get back. Now. She needs me," Max stated resolutely, slapping her face and blinking hard several times.
"Look at you Max! When did you stop being so chickenshit?" Chloe asked, impressed.
"When I became the only thing that stopped you from dying every single day," she replied quietly.
"You'd think the universe is out to get me, huh?" Chloe laughed, trying to lighten the mood. She faltered when Max shot her a glare. "Uh. There's um, a photo album.. over there in one of the drawers. Maybe one of the photos you need is in there."
Max's eyes lit up and she tripped up from her chair before rounding the bed to find the album. Though not without placing a hasty kiss on Chloe's forehead. "Thank you!" she squeaked in excitement as she settled back into the chair, dropping the leather-bound book onto Chloe's blanketed lap.
"You're welcome," she murmured softly, her cheeks flushing slightly at the unfamiliar, but entirely pleasant, sensation. A thought crossed into her mind before she had the chance to squash the sense of soft joy it brought with a firm head shake.
Max, who had been flipping through page after page in an eager rush, caught the movement out of the corner of her eye. She slowed her search, then stopped altogether as she laid a hand against the pictures and turned her attention to Chloe. "What's on your mind?"
"I.. nothing," she coughed, her throat thick with tears.
"Bullshit," Max replied quickly as she reached out with her other hand to catch a lone tear that had escaped the confines of Chloe's lashes. And while her tone was a little rough, her touch was not.
Chloe leaned into it, realizing that it would probably be the last time she'd ever feel Max's skin against hers again in this way. For one reason or another. "I'm dying, Max."
"Chloe-" Max jerked her hand back in surprise. And never more had Chloe cursed her own immobile body than she had just then, desperately wishing she could pull Max back into herself.
Closing her eyes to the impending tears, Chloe whispered to the darkness, "I'm dying and I want you to stay with me."
Feeling like a complete idiot, Chloe stood in the main hall of the girl's dorms with Max's chlorine brand t-shirt and jeans wadded up in her arms. "Shit," she hissed at herself, glancing around and trying her best to discern which room was Max's. "What are the odds she's gonna answer her phone now?" she asked herself bitterly as she thumbed the side of her phone in contemplation before dropping the idea entirely. Even if Max was done ignoring her, she was most definitely dead to the world right now.
Might as well start looking. I've come this far. She turned to her left and glanced at the whiteboards along the wall when she spotted a door that was ajar. Max would never leave her door open like that, especially after all that stuff with Nathan, Chloe rationalized, but padded closer to the room anyways, noting that a soft light spilled out from the cracks.
Her heart pounding slightly, she pushed the heavy wood to the side and poked her head in carefully. A girl sat on her couch, head resting in her hands. Not Max. "Uh.. hey," Chloe offered quietly.
The girl started with a small huff of air as she looked up, her face a picture of relief before fully registering the unfamiliar intruder standing at her door. "Um, excuse me, who are you?" she snapped, and Chloe bristled slightly even as her heart pounded a little harder. Maybe coming here was a hella bad idea.
"None of your business," she growled waspishly back before rolling her eyes at herself. Always so aggressive. "Look, chill. I'm looking for Max."
"Right," the other girl said as she rose and stalked towards Chloe, who was still hovering in her doorway. "Who's asking?" she repeated coolly, tossing her long brunette hair over her shoulder and resting her weight on one foot.
"Jesus, you her guard dog or something?" Chloe huffed, crossing her arms, wedging the bundle of fabric closer to her side. "It's Chloe, alright? Chloe's asking. I need to see her. Can you tell me which room is hers?"
"Sure, but you wont find her. Unless she managed to slip inside when I wasn't looking," the other girl frowned.
"You? What, you were waiting up for her?"
"Look, I'm worried about her, that's all. Okay?" the brunette said, her tone softening, "She didn't seem too happy when I saw her earlier this morning and I haven't seen her since to talk to her. I was hoping to catch her tonight in case she had left campus but..."
Chloe's heart fell. At least someone's looking out for her. "Look, uh..."
"Dana," she filled in.
"I appreciate that you're worried about her, Dana. But I really need to talk to her, so, if you-" Chloe prompted anxiously, bouncing her weight on her toes.
"I'll take you to her room," Dana nodded readily, "Besides... there's a chance she managed to get passed me somehow. How that girl does it, I'll never know...," she muttered as she brushed past Chloe out into the hall, turning on her phone for light.
Chloe smirked for a second. "Maybe she's got superpowers," she waggled her eyebrows.
"Yeah right," Dana scoffed over her shoulder, before stopping abruptly at one of the doors. "This is her room. She gave me an extra key once, for.. emergencies. Here," she handed it off.
"Desperate measures," she breathed, "You better be in here Max..."
"This one should work," Max said, mostly to herself as she pointed to a photo, her words a little stilted with awkwardness. I'm dying and I want you to stay with me.
"Max, look I-"
I'm dying. "Chloe, it's fine, alright? It's fine," Max waved a hand, but every movement, every syllable felt stiff.
"Would you please-"
Stay with me. "Chloe...," she shook her head slightly and bit her lip. She could feel the tears welling up. "Just.. don't."
Chloe was silent after that. Taking in a shaky breath, Max held the photo up and started praying. Let this work. Please, please let this work. Then, just as their fuzzy childish voices started to ring from the photo, "Let me go, please," Chloe whispered.
Max nearly dropped the photo. "Let you-?"
"I'm dying, Max," she stated with little resignation in her tone, "My respiratory system is failing me. If you're going to leave... then let me go with you."
"Chloe... that's.. not how this works," Max admitted quietly as she tapped the front of the glossy paper. "You can't – I don't even know how I can-"
"That's.. not what I meant, Max. I want to go wherever you go. In life. In your heart, Max. And I can't do that while I'm strapped to this bed, in this body. Just.. do this for me. Please?" Chloe begged softly, holding Max's gaze pleadingly.
Max sucked in a breath. She couldn't be asking me to – could she? "I don't... Chloe, I have no idea what that will do to.. I can't be sure, I've already messed with time enough!" Max protested.
"I'm more resilient than you think," Chloe laughed bitterly at herself, "I've hung on this long and got to reunite here with you in this life. Let me meet you in yours now. Okay?"
Max hesitated for another long moment, staring instead at the photo, unable to meet Chloe's eyes. Her gaze was directed for so long at the image that the fuzzy laughter came back. My best friend is asking me to kill her, was all she could think through the numb haze in her head. And I'm going to do it. "Okay," she agreed after another heavy beat.
Chloe smiled softly, "Good," she hummed, and it seemed like a weight had suddenly lifted from her shoulders. "Thank you... for letting me decide. This is what I want, Max. And you're making it happen. Thank you.. so much. I love you. I think I always have."
Max blushed, glanced up from under her lashes at Chloe. "I love you too, Chloe. Though I.. think it might be a little late now."
"For me, sure," Chloe tipped her head to the side, closer to Max. "But not for us. Just promise to take care of her, okay? If my dad really is gone in that other world... well I think I'd be as damaged emotionally as I am physically right now. Or maybe even more than this."
Chloe frantically whirled around in space one more time just to be sure. But there was nothing. No light, no warmth. And no Max.
"She's not here...," Chloe repeated aloud, her voice hollow. It felt like the walls were closing in. Like her lungs were collapsing. Like her heart was stopping. "She's not... she's not here, fuck, fuck fuck! She's not here!" she screamed, rounding on the nearest thing and grabbing it with messy, enraged fists.
"Chloe, hey, back.. off!" Dana exclaimed, seizing Chloe's wrists and pulling the other girl off of her with surprising strength for her lithe form. "Chill out! Just, calm down okay?!"
"She's left me, she's left me! She left.. me..," Chloe grunted, her breath stuttering with panic and rage and fear. "Fuck! She's gone! They're all gone, they all leave! She left!" she raged, swinging out for Dana again before her strike was halted in midair by a swift block.
"Relax, or you'll wake the whole dorm, okay? Either that, or security will catch us here. And that's the last thing I need tonight," Dana said fiercely, pushing Chloe's arm back to her side.
Security... Blackwell... "Uh.. right," Chloe croaked hoarsely. She sunk onto Max's bed, suddenly exhausted as everything from the day piled onto her chest all at once.
Assured that Chloe wasn't going to lash out at her again, Dana allowed a muttered curse to slip out past her lips as she rubbed her forehead, her brow caving with worry. "I'm going to try calling her," she said as she turned on her heel and started back towards her room before pausing in Max's doorway. "Um... are you going to be okay for now? I can stay if you need. Any friend of Max's is a friend of mine."
Chloe waved her off, dropping her forearms onto her knees and hunching over. Speaking to the floor between her feet she mumbled, monotone, "Good luck calling her. I've been texting her all morning. Then again, she's not ignoring you for being a shitty friend, so."
Recognizing the empty brokenness in Chloe's tone, Dana replied compassionately, "I'll come back and get you as soon as I hear anything at all, okay?"
Chloe, still staring at the floor, dipped her head in response. It was all the energy she had left. She couldn't even be angry anymore. She was just empty. She was empty and she didn't understand. Max had left her. Even when Chloe had accused her of leaving on the ride back to Blackwell, she hadn't really meant it. They were words that she had just spat without thought, in a blind red haze. But now... now that they were proving themselves true... Chloe didn't know what to think.
"You weren't supposed to leave me Max," she told her battered and bruised feet, vaguely found herself wondering if she had left bloody footprints anywhere. "You were never supposed to be the one who left. Everyone else... but not you. Not you..."
This is it, Max told herself, gripping the photo with white fingertips. She took one last lingering glance at Chloe, who now had her face turned towards Max and her eyes closed, her machines bleeping futilely in the background, and focused on the photo.
But Max didn't hear the childlike laughter as the image became sharper. All she heard was Chloe's last words to her before she drifted off for the last time. Save her. Save her like you saved me.
"I promise," Max had whispered back, kissing her on the forehead in farewell. "I promise..."
Then the world went black, and Max was young once more to watch another Price die.
Please dear god let this work.
Laying in Max's bed helped a little. It eased some of her fears and allowed herself to be deluded slightly into thinking that Max had just gotten up to go to the bathroom and would be right back. And so, with Max's blankets wrapped around her, Chloe found the courage to begin speaking to the photos on the wall, "You were right, Max," she whispered, tracing the edge of one of Max's selfies, "I can't keep blaming everyone for everything shitty in my life. I can't blame you. Because.. because it is my fault. I push everyone away. Everyone leaves because of me. Even you left. For five years you left me Max!
"But.. you came back. And, god I was so angry! You never tried to contact me at all, it wasn't like I was hard to find!" Chloe growled, a pathetic teary hiccup punctuating her rage as she smacked a palm weakly against the wall, "Then you started to act like you cared, like you were sorry you were gone for so long."
Chloe paused, and scrubbed angrily at her face, her eyes stinging with tears. She didn't even bother trying to come up with a lame excuse in her head to justify the way her chest was starting to heave. She didn't care that she was crying. Because she was crying for Max. For the friendship they had once built. The years that they missed out on. The years that Chloe wouldn't ever get to replace now.
"But you weren't acting. I.. I know that now, Max," she continued shakily, "It's too late now though. You're gone. You're gone and you're not coming back. And.. you were right. It is my fault."
Max felt herself come back into reality as though a soft breeze was streaming across her face. The first thing she noticed was that the time was the same as the reality she had just left. Meaning that she had missed nearly a whole day in this timeline. The second was that she was standing exactly where she had been prior to leaving. The third thing was the sound of someone crying.
"...act like you cared, like you were sorry you were gone for so long," a voice, Chloe's voice, was trembling behind her. Max turned slowly, her heart simultaneously lifting and crashing because Chloe was here, she was alright, but... she was crying. Max started to lift her hand as she took a step towards her friend who was curled up underneath her blankets on her bed, but Chloe kept talking, "But you weren't acting. I know that now, Max. It's too late now though. You're gone and you're not coming back."
Chloe's words were a broken whisper now, and Max's heart ached as she drew softly towards her. "It's going to be okay Chloe," she breathed quietly, hoping not to startle the small figure that Chloe made on the bed.
But she needn't have worried, because Chloe carried on, clearly too lost to despair and self-loathing to notice. "And... you were right. It is my fault. I've lost you and it's all my fault..."
"Chloe," Max said, a little louder but no less gentle. The shape on the bed jerked in surprise and twisted around, smacking her head on the headboard in the process.
"Ow, shit, motherfucking hell, Jesus Christ-"
Max started laughing before she could help herself, covering her mouth with one hand while feeling her way down onto the bed with the other.
Chloe's swearing stopped abruptly. "Max?"
"Uh...," she started. Then stopped. What was she supposed to say? How could she even possibly begin to explain where she's been? What she's experienced? "Hi Chloe," she mumbled pathetically as she turned to face her on the bed.
"You.. you're here!" Chloe exclaimed, a smile overtaking her face before she launched herself into Max's chest. "I knew you wouldn't leave me," she breathed in her ear.
Max froze in shock for a moment, unaccustomed to the touch of her best friend. But she shook herself quickly and wound her arms around Chloe's frame as Chloe buried her face in the crook of Max's shoulder. "I'm here Chloe," she murmured into her blue hair, feeling her heart start to swell with warmth and love. "And I promise I'm not going anywhere without you now."
