"Life is Strange: Dust – Coda" – by StormofCretins
Chloe felt the weight fall away from her right shoulder, like someone had brushed past her or lightly placed a hand on her shoulder and removed it without comment. No ceremony, no fireworks, no crash of thunder. Just one moment, Max Caulfield had rested her head on Chloe's shoulder and in the next it was gone, like it had never been there.
"I'm not gonna waste it, Max. What you gave me," Chloe said, letting out a slow breath. Her goddamn eyes were already welling. "Our sacrifices. I'm not gonna waste any of it. And if there is a Max Caulfield here, I'll find her. Wherever she is… I'll find her."
Tears that first welled broke free and Chloe let them. Her eyes pinched shut as she lowered her head. Find her? Find who? Who the fuck am I kidding?
She shrugged her shoulders, pressing her palms into her thighs. As great as making an oath sounded, Chloe knew deep down she didn't even really know for sure if that hadn't been her one-and-only Max sitting there with her. The one that knew she didn't "belong". The one that was apparently going to die if she didn't take control and go find herself a home.
Alternate fucking dimensions, the thought came as Chloe fought to still her breath before weeping gave way to sobbing. She had no idea where to even begin searching for a girl that might not even exist. Deep down, she believed she did the right thing. Max was in pain, and afraid, and uncertain. Maybe I at least fixed that for you, Chloe thought. Had it been Max, her own actual Max? Or the only one she'd ever see again whether she was "hers" or not? Chloe had no idea. It was a joke in hindsight that she ever thought Max rewinding time was confusing.
A memory floated to her as she felt a teardrop pearl and fall from her chin, her eyes still closed. "We're always together, right? Even when we're apart, we're still Max and Chloe," came Max's voice unbidden from years past. But are we Max? Can we ever be, now?
Chloe felt a feeling she knew well creep in around her heart, reaching around to hug her like an old friend. Despair hooked it's armed around her and wanted to pull her in close, and for a moment she wanted to let it. Who do I even have in this world now? The question cried out plaintively inside her. Mom is gone. Everyone I knew from school. Even Frank. Christ, even David…
The heat rose in her cheeks promising a fresh wave of tears. If Max was all she had, and that had been the only Max she ever might know, was she really going to be alone?
She hadn't been lying, Chloe knew, she meant what she said to Max, that Max, and to herself after the other had gone – she had wasted a year unsure what to carry and what to let go, and if she had the chance to find her Max, a Max, whatever fucking Max, she wasn't going to hesitate a single damn minute. It felt like such a chickenshit betrayal of promises she had made just minutes ago to sit here on this goddamn stage crying.
But cry she did, because sometimes – Chloe had learned through bitter experience – it was just what you had to do.
Some minutes later… two, ten, twenty, Chloe didn't know, the tears ran dry. The chaos of thoughts and confused fears of who and what was real in the world around her didn't end so much as fall to background noise in her mind. How do you find a Max Caulfield in a haystack? Chloe thought darkly as she used her knuckle to clear her still moist eye. Back to Seattle, she supposed, to start with. If Max there was a Max in this world, her Max, and she hadn't just spent a year with a stand-in or something, the smartest place would be to look with her parents, not around this heaping pile of shit town. At least they'll remember we were here, Chloe thought, shooting a withering glare at the still-concealed monument she and the wayward other Max had visited this morning. They'll get a show.
Her train of thought was broken by the buzzing from her pocket. Too drained to be angry, Chloe reached absently for her phone. Looking down, reading it, she saw the text and photo from Tammi, of her and the High Seas announcing their arrival in Arcadia Bay.
We're here. If you need us just holler.
Chloe rolled her eyes gently. Max, you have some hella kooky friends, you were right, I should love them back a little…
The thought trailed off as Chloe found herself staring more intently at the phone, and the message. She sat stock still, like she'd never seen the device before, leaning her head toward it inch by inch. She replayed the thought in her own mind. Max's kooky friends, that Chloe should love back…
… Max's friends. Were here. Were texting Chloe. Knew Chloe. But if they know me, Chloe thought, her mind now racing ahead.
She smiled. Slowly at first. Then wider. She probably looked like a fool, fairly grinning at her phone at the stage of a memorial for the death of hundreds of people.
But in that instant, she had never felt a clearer sense of joy.
Max is here, she thought, turning her head and craning her neck eagerly. She's here. She's real. I wouldn't even know these silly pirates if she weren't here, if we hadn't left Arcadia Bay together, if we hadn't… been together…
Coherent thought slipped into and out of her grasp, the way… well, the way time and space had been slipping through Max's, she supposed. Chloe stood, still looking back and forth among the gathering crowd. She clutched her beanie on her head with both hands in frustration. It was anybody's guess where Max had slipped off to, or even when.
With a quiet but hysterical laugh, Chloe thought how much "simpler" all this was when Max just rewound time and jumped through photographs. The flickering seemed to happen when she slept, but also not; sometimes she was in the same place, other times it seemed like she was walked away.
Maybe… I guess… fuck it. Start back where we parked at the cliff last night? Double back to my place, or downtown? Would she have gone to American Rust?
Chloe clenched her fists for a moment, felt awkward, then absently ran her hands up and down the sleeves of her plaid flannel shirt. It was cooler this October than last October, like the day of the snow came down –
"Fuck you, time travel," she muttered. Exasperation would get her nowhere. Step one, she knew, get back to the truck. Chloe stopped, hesitating, unable to even remember where she and… also… Max? Other Max? (fuck you time travel) had parked coming over here. Her Max was here. She hadn't missed her chance at all. If the band is here, Max is here, she just had to—
"Chloe?"
When she heard the voice behind her, the hairs on her arm and back of neck stood on end. She was excited to find Max but wasn't prepared for how afraid she really was that she wouldn't. And here, before the search had even begun, Max had found her.
"Chloe, I just woke up in the truck, you weren't there… why did you drive over here without waking me up?"
To her horror, Chloe couldn't move. Not right away. A surge of emotion held her in place like she imagined headlights held a doe. She'd had only moments since the other Max had left to find her own home and destiny, really, no time at all to begin working through everything she wanted to say to the girl she loved if she got a chance. Or to say again, she guessed. Any rough ideas blew out the open windows of her mind when the breeze of Max's voice blew back into her heart.
What did I say? It was fucking awesome, what was it? She raced desperately for a fingerhold. Hella genius heartfelt win. The year I might not have had? Thank you for saving me? She couldn't remember.
Remember.
"Then remember this," is what she had said, right before.
Chloe turned neatly on her heel with a firm resolve. When her eyes caught sight of Max, they immediately welled up. She was real. The outfit was identical at a glance, and Chloe realized she might have been in the company of a double for the whole trip, she didn't know anymore. She wasn't sure she cared.
Max tilted her head curiously, her lips already forming a question before Chloe silenced them with her own.
"Chloe, are you okammmph!" Max fell silent as Chloe cupped her cheeks in her palms and kissed her. Chloe could feel her tears falling again, running to the corner of her mouth and wetting Max's cheek as well. Her kiss grew more insistent, more desperate, and it was only a moment before Max relaxed into it, her other questions forgotten.
Max returned the kiss almost despite herself, Chloe could tell. I don't know if I could ever explain it better than this anyway, she sighed in her mind, lowering her arms to pull Max tighter to her. Madly, Chloe realized nobody else might ever know what this feels like, to kiss someone for the first time twice.
After savoring the kiss a moment longer, Chloe reluctantly parted from the soft pull of Max's own increasingly eager lips. She trailed her lips up Max's freckled cheek with a soft trail of affection before whispering in Max's ear.
"I love you, Max," Chloe confessed for the second time this morning, "I should have told you before. I should have told you that day."
"Shhhhhh," Max insisted, pulling her head back far enough to look Chloe in the eye. The taller girl could see Max's own eyes were filled with tears, "You… I didn't think… I thought you didn't… I thought I hurt you, I've just wanted to make it up to you…"
"No, Max, no," Chloe reached up with a slender finger to wipe a loose tear from Max's cheek, "you never owed me anything, and you deserved to know way before now. You shouldn't have had to spend a day wondering if I resented you for saving me, or if I didn't love you enough, or at all. I left you hanging for a year with this, and I'm done with it."
"I love you so much, Chloe. I have the whole time," Max's smile broke Chloe's own open on her face, and she kissed each of Max's eyelids in turn to salve her tears.
They held each other that way for a time, minutes probably, before slowly noticing more people filling into the Blackwell quad for the memorial.
"Chloe did… did something happen this morning? Why did you leave?"
Chloe sighed. She didn't want to lie, and she knew she was going to come back to it and explain better later, but she just wanted to share this moment without more time travel confusion for a while longer.
"Um, I drove over here while you were asleep because I knew you had been pretty freaked," she replied, faltering a little, "and I ran into a friend. We were here hella early, so we just walked around. Wanted to peek at the stupid monument…"
She trailed off while Max eyed her curiously. Neither said it, but both felt a little high, altered, by what they had just shared. Chloe took Max by the hand, locking their fingers. She's really here, Chloe daydreamed. Faintly she remembered Max suddenly hugging her in Chloe's room a year earlier. "Chloe, you're back," she'd exclaimed. Only later did Chloe learn what had gotten her the attack hug, and she let out a smiling sigh at the full circle they'd come. Now it's my turn.
"Speaking of," Chloe cut off her own reverie, "why don't we find a seat for this bullshit. Think we should try to be up close." Suddenly Chloe remembered the High Seas, and the text from Tammi. She cast a glance around for them. "Your band friends are here, too, Max. They went for it and came down for yo… us."
Max looked up at her, smiling. "So, you finally admit they love you too?" Max squeezed Chloe's palm in gratitude.
Too fucking surreal, Chloe thought, almost exhausted of this confusing shit. But she also couldn't help but wonder –
"Hey, I know you're still shaking off the cobwebs this morning or whatever, but… any more 'flickering'? Anything weird since you got up?" Chloe held her breath involuntarily for an answer.
"No," Max answered slowly. She looked to Chloe as thought it just hadn't crossed her mind yet today. "No, there's… nothing. I feel different, settled in place. I don't feel like I'm being pushed out of my own way, not once since I got up?"
Now the photographer narrowed those observant eyes at Chloe. "Why do I feel like you knew that? Did some… did you do something?"
"Who me?" Chloe asked, innocence obviously feigned, as she led Max toward a pair of empty aisle seats near the front. No room for the band to sit right in for the ceremony, but Chloe didn't think they'd actually want to unless they were asked. They had come to support Max – to support both of them – afterwards if needed. "I'm just the faithful companion, what am I going to do about you trippin' the rift?"
Max groaned in reply. "It was faithful chauffeur and companion, and you suck at if you drove me over here without even waking me up first."
"I'll work on that," Chloe quipped. But her heart skipped a beat that Max remembered her saying that, all that time ago. Same memories, same girl, right?
They found their seats, tears having now dried, no longer sniffling awkwardly. Instead, the two young loves found themselves staring helplessly into each other's eyes as the rest of the crowd shuffled into their seats. Chloe smiled, in part thinking how stupidly improper it all was, there among the grieving mass, all come out to honor a monument to the biggest fucking dipshit she ever met… and making moon eyes at each other like a couple of love-drunk fools. It was exactly the kind of improper she lived for.
The ceremony began and Max and Chloe were able to break attention from each other to turn to the speakers. One by one, bereaved family members of the deceased, public officials from around the state and country, business leaders, even Sean goddamn Prescott all got up to speak about those they lost. Chloe started to feel a tremble of giddiness as she realized they were coming up on the memorial. She had more than a few great tagging capers in her life, but she wasn't sure if she'd ever be prouder of what her and… Max-ish… had accomplished that morning.
I know you weren't mine, Chloe thought. It was like a prayer, like a message in a bottle she was sending across time and space if she could. The only real power like that existed in the right hand of the girl next to her, the hand she held in her own, but maybe she could steal a bit of it to send this one hopeful wish. I know you weren't mine but thank you for making me understand. I hope you find… me… I hope you do and that you get everything you ever wanted. You watch us run, sista.
Max slipped her right hand free of Chloe's, reaching silently across her lap to grab Chloe's left hand and pull it to herself. As she did, Max leaned her head on Chloe's shoulder. Accepting the unspoken invitation, Chloe slipped her right arm over Max's shoulder and held her in.
Again, she found herself thrilled with how few shits they were giving. Some of it was the open affection, some of it was being underdressed compared to everyone else there, and some of it she guessed was just hard wired into being Chloe Price, the devil-may-care blue haired punk girl who had finally beaten this town and couldn't wait for them all to know it. Any moment they were going to pull up that tarp on the memorial and the Prescotts would have it dished back in their face where it belonged. Chloe supposed she might feel guilty about the reaction of those who were just here to grieve, but she also remembered how many people that were here being remembered had loved Rachel, too, and thought they'd approve.
"Thank you to the speakers for such a lovely service," came the voice of the MC, some suit Chloe didn't know from another. She rubbed Max's arm with her free hand, kissed her on the top of the head. The anticipation was building quickly, and she was bouncing her right knee without thinking. "And now we come to the unveiling, as we remember.
"Remember those we lost. So many young students right here at Blackwell whose futures were taken from them."
Max shifted in her seat, and Chloe heard an edge in her voice as she whispered "like Rachel. This cover-up is still bullshit, I wish we could… do something."
Chloe bit her lip and nodded, trying not to grin too widely yet.
"But, thanks to the efforts of so many, we are ensuring a future for this Academy. And we do so in the name of those we remember today. We will not forget them, but we will forge new lives in their memory," the MC droned on, to the sniffling and nodding approval of the assemblage who Chloe hated – fair or not – for their ignorance of what kind of Academy and what kind of people they were there to honor.
Here it comes, motherfuckers!
"That new life begins today," the MC concluded.
On a cue, the tarp was pulled away, revealing the memorial to the audience in all its cleverly edited glory.
The uproar was immediate and, at least to Chloe's ears, glorious.
Before the crowd stood a bronze statue of Nathan Prescott, the symbol of the foundation named for him that was at the point of this. He was built to look thoughtful, curious. He had a camera in his hand and a letter jacket. The pedestal had some blah blah bullshit Chloe hadn't even really cared to read in detail. As soon as she was on board with the departed Max's plan, she wanted to be sure that nobody else did either.
Tagged on the statue's right hip was the outline of a pistol, as dark as they could make it with their red and blue pens.
Where the sculptor's inscription began "In loving memory,", the tagging over-topped the rest and shouted in bold face "the SON OF A BITCH that KILLED RACHEL AMBER, that DRUGGED KATE MARSH, and did it all for his BITCH-ASS MENTOR MARK JEFFERSON". That had mostly come from the other Max, but Chloe knew it needed her personal touch, so the two breasts of Nathan's jacket were clear to announce that he was a PUNK. ASS.
The whole crowd were on their feet in an instant, including Chloe and Max. Max gasped, smiling, and covering her mouth with both hands. Chloe beamed with pride as Max whipped her head back and forth from the defaced statue to herself.
"What is the meaning of this!" exclaimed a middle-aged man a row ahead of Chloe and Max.
"Oh my goodness, who would do this! My grand-child died here!" An elderly woman a few rows behind.
Chloe winced a bit at that, but regretted nothing. For Rachel dropped in a junkyard, for Kate nearly killing herself. For two different assholes that had tried to kill her and Max.
"Holy shit Chloe did you do that?" Max's voice cut in, dripping amazement.
Chloe cocked her eyes to the sky in an expression of feigned innocence. "Do you like it?"
"Like it? It's almost exactly what I wanted to do to the thing from the first second I saw it!"
"I… yeah, I kinda figured. Same wavelength and all," Chloe answered. Max narrowed her eyes at her favorite punk icon for the second time, and Chloe bit her lip in reply. The general din of the crowd rose, calls to know what-the-meaning-of-this-is and the like; Chloe took Max again by the hand and led her out into the aisle way between seats.
She wasn't an idiot; at some point these stuffy assholes were going to notice the two underdressed teenagers who were way too pleased with what just happened, so Chloe looked at how to get out of there without too much of a scene while people kept pointing and yelling. As she looked toward the street in front of the school, she caught a sight she never thought she'd welcome so much – Tammi and the band were here. She beamed a smile in their direction, unsure if they saw, but started tugging Max along away from the seats anyway.
To Chloe's surprised, she felt resistance. Turning to look at Max, only to see her reaching into her camera bag with an impish smile.
"C'mon, Chloe, you don't think I'm not getting a picture of this?" Max smiled and turned Chloe's pulling arm the other way, toward the statue. Chloe couldn't help but go. She felt herself blush a little and ran her free hand up through her blue hair to the top of you beanie. You really are a badass now Caulfield, how was I ever not going to fall for you!
Chloe provided rear cover as Max slipped between shifting bodies of the crowd, pushed one or two aside when Max dropped to one knee to get the low angle that she wanted to capture the statue in all its glory.
Once the picture was taken, Max shook the developing Polaroid lightly as she tucked it and her camera away. She nodded with a smile as Chloe led her back out through the crowd. Once they were safely in open grass on the ground, Max and Tammi met eyes, and all sides waved. Chloe and Max went hand in hand, now slowly ambling toward their Seattle friends.
"So, this friend," Max began, glancing up at Chloe with a knowing smile, "is she anyone I know?"
"I guess… yeah, you could say that," Chloe rolled her eyes, knowing Max understood where she had really been that morning.
Max pulled them to a stop halfway to the street, turning to face Chloe and taking both her hands.
"She… I'm… she's gone now? Is that what happened?"
Chloe leaned her forehead to touch Max's. "You know I don't really know how any of this shit works, right?"
"But was she… if I was here and she was with you, does that mean she was really me and I'm," Max faltered, "how do you know we belong here?"
"If there's one thing she… your, uh, whacky twin, seemed sure of is that she was the one that didn't belong here. You do. We do," Chloe emphasized, staring down into Max's eyes with their foreheads still resting gently together.
"Were you… were you testing me?" Max hesitated. "Earlier about being my sidekick…"
"Faithful chauffeur and companion, actually," Chloe laughed, "and no. I thought maybe I'd have to, but… I don't. I could look at you and know it was you. It was different than the girl I saw… this morning, most of this week. You were there. You saved me from a train. You held me while I cried. You chose me, every time. That was this you, and this me." This she emphasized with a tap of a finger on their respective temples.
Max's eyes fell shut and her breath grew heavy as she listened to Chloe's heartfelt assurance.
"Max, you're going to be okay now. She fixed it by going on to find her own home. And she left because I told her to go. And I told her to go because I realized that I loved you… and her, because she was so, so like you. But it also helped me understand that I was wasting time feeling regret and fear instead of just… being with you, like I wanted. Like you want?"
The question hung there, and as Max opened her eyes, she nodded vigorous agreement. Chloe let out a thankful breath before she went on.
"It's our time now. It's time for life to be special, and an adventure – "
"—but not without you," they finished in unison. Max raised her chin to the taller girl and their lips met again. Met and held there, savoring the road behind and the road ahead.
Watching them, walking up from the street, Tammi and her bandmates begin quietly gushing among themselves.
"Okay," declared Pixie, the drummer, "we are so keeping my song about them in the set list!"