This story takes place during the alternate timeline that Max briefly visits in episode 3.
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"Thanks for meeting with me."
Warren's eyes watched his current companion carefully. The small knowledge he had of Maxine Caulfield has been none too pleasant. She's a part of the Vortex Club, the one aspect of Blackwell Academy that was hellbent on making other peoples' lives slightly more difficult while hiding its cruel interior under a mask of high school do-goodedness. It was just a ruse obviously, everyone knew this, so they could party without interference. Nathan Prescott also made sure to maintain this status quo.
His gaze drifted to her red-rimmed eyes, the brows that knit together in uncertainty. From what he has seen in class, in the short time he has known the girl, Maxine was always a well-put together picture. Simple lines in her clothes, an air of superiority. She walked the halls as if nothing could bother her, and usually nothing did anyway. The preps looked up to her, and the outsiders couldn't be bothered one way or another. She was just… someone that marched to her own pace, indifferent to those around her. But he figured she reveled in this sort of attention, even if she acted like it didn't affect her.
So it was especially weird, that this girl who sought to ignore the existence of people who drifted on the edges of high-class society to begin with, had approached him one random afternoon, practically in tears, asking with a heartfelt plea to meet her at a later time.
He almost refused, for fear of being led into some cruel trap set up by the Vortex Club, but then he saw the desperateness that radiated within her entire persona, how her circle of friends were nowhere to be seen, how she watched him with such a fervent fear that he might say "no"… and he couldn't refuse after that.
He didn't know her except through the mythos of the school and how she propped herself up in the classes they shared. She was as much an enigma to him as he probably was to her. So why did she approach him?
"You don't know how good it feels to see a friendly face…"
She was talking still, taking hesitant peeks at him through the long bangs on her face. He fought the urge to raise his brow and the incredulity that swam within him spilled forth from his unchecked mouth.
"Friendly? You do realize you're in the Vortex Club, right? You guys hate people like me on sight."
He didn't mean to sound so harsh, but he still wasn't sure the game she was trying to play. When the words registered in Maxine's eyes, her head fell forward as if she were contemplating some sort of common truth. She knew exactly how the Vortex Club operated. I mean, she should, as she often engaged in their intrigues.
"I keep forgetting…" she mumbled, and then turned her head skyward, "I'm sorry for what they do to you. It's beyond cruel and stupid. I wish they'd stop."
"You make it sound like you'd never join in."
"I would never."
The adamant tone she used gave him pause and he considered her for a moment. A quiet "hmm"ing vibrated in his cheeks. Her face had fallen back to the ground as they slowly continued their trek around campus grounds. They walked at a snail's pace, Maxine's hand clutched solemnly at her white cardigan, shielding what little part of her she could. Her knuckles were white. Her shoulders hunched. He had never seen her look this uncomfortable in their short time together as classmates, like she wanted to jump out of her skin.
"For what it's worth…" he began, a part of him instinctively wanting to offer comfort to a sad-looking girl, "you never seemed the type to do anything nasty anyway… that I've seen," he tacked on, unable to help himself. There was a whole side to the Vortex Club he had probably never seen and couldn't speak from absolutes.
Her eyelids jumped for a second, "thanks… I guess."
"Anyway," he pulled them into a stop, turning his body fully to face her. They could walk around campus all day but it wouldn't give him any answers. He could barely handle any more silence as it were. He needed to get down to business. "What'd you need to talk about? Did I piss off your boyfriend or something?"
"Boyfriend?" she whispered to herself and considered her next thought, not meeting his eyes. "No, nothing like that. Uhm… I'm not sure where to begin… but I feel like you're the only one I can turn to at this point."
"Wow, quite the responsibility," he couldn't help sounding so blasé, "what, is it like tutoring you need? 'Cause I don't know if I have the time." Would Maxine really approach him for something so trivial? He couldn't guess otherwise. His mind nagged at him that it was obviously something far bigger than that. But the other half of him could never guess in a million years that his help would be the one that was the difference in her life somehow.
They came to a campus bench and Maxine gestured towards it with both arms, "No… no. Uh, you might want to sit down for this." He sat without another word, bringing his arms together in front of him as a student would prepare themselves for a teacher's lesson. He continued to watch her as she gathered her thoughts.
After a moment's silence, she finally locked eyes with him.
"Warren," she said his name for the first time that afternoon with such a familiarity he almost jumped in his seat. He didn't even know she knew his name. She continued, "are you still really into science?"
"'Still'?" He cocked an eyebrow wondering if it really was some sort of homework assignment she needed help with. "It's my bread and butter." He liked to lay it on thick that he was such a strong mind in that department. Most people knew it was his specialty and liked to remind people of that fact. For Maxine to ask if he was 'still' into science was almost laughable.
"Good, I'm glad." She smiled at him, just a small one, as if this tidbit of well-known knowledge of a random facet of his life was a line of comfort that one held to when distressed. He felt unbalanced.
But before he could regain some sort of understanding of how such a thing could give anyone any sort of comfort, she was already talking again, a newfound lilt to her voice. "Does that mean that your mind is open to new possibilities?"
It was a weird question. Suddenly he felt like he was being interviewed to enter a new science-based cult. "I guess that depends…"
"Even one that could bend the very foundation of the world as you know it?" Her hands clasped together on the table in front of her and they shook from the pressure she was squeezing them.
"Okay, where are you going with this…" He was a little more at a loss now. Did he do the right thing in engaging in this strange girl's plea to meet with him? He was beginning to question her sanity but he made no immediate plans to leave. He was already far too engrossed in this mysterious girl to get up and walk away now. But still, the hesitation showed itself on his expression. She must've seen it because she took a quick intake of breath and looked at him with wide eyes.
Her voice tumbled out in a scratchy mess made worse by a tightened throat. "This is going to sound insane. Trust me. This isn't easy to explain. And I know you don't know me and probably even hate me on sight—"
"I don't hate you," he interjected. It just slipped out. He was beginning to feel a little sorry for the girl. She looked so vulnerable, nothing like the haughty photographer he was used to. "Granted… I always thought you were a bit of a freak, no offense." He inwardly groaned. Why of all times did he feel the need to divulge such a personal thought? In his head it hadn't sounded like an insult but out of his mouth he felt like a jerk. Thankfully, her expression didn't change much. Instead it drifted to the table, even looking half amused as if thinking of a private joke.
"Well, you wouldn't be wrong," she said after a moment. He merely looked at her and waited. "Okay," she took a deep breath, steadying herself. "Jesus, where to start... what if…" her eyes locked with his and for a second all he could see was the blue coloring of her irises, "uhm, what if I told you that we're actually best friends in another timeline? God, that sounds crazy." Her voice shimmered out in an exasperated huff.
He didn't know how to respond to that. Could he believe that in some alternate world… if alternate worlds were a thing that could even conceivably exist, would this girl, his classmate for only a few months, after approaching him on a random afternoon, looking like a completely different person, be someone he was close with? His mouth felt dry, but he didn't want to scare her away by completely dismissing her. He wanted to hear more. The scientific-mind that he so closely admired of himself was begging him to keep listening and to say whatever it was that would keep her talking.
"Go on," was the most creative thing he could summon in that moment. What was he supposed to say? Yes, I believe you? He could've, he reasoned but it would've been a half-truth. But relief flooded her face and he felt a small joy course through him at the sight. She looked remarkably better when she didn't look like she was about to explode in her seat or break down crying.
"Really?" Her voice betrayed just how anxious she actually was. She must've been so sure he would flat-out rejected her. The thought made him feel a bit put-out. The last person he wanted to be was someone that instilled such a fear in girls he barely knew.
"I mean, unless you're just crazy, I have no reason not to hear you out… this is some ground-breaking bomb you're dropping on me. I can't turn away now."
Her hands on the table relaxed and she sighed, tension melting from her body as she began to speak again. "Okay," she steadied herself and rocked forward slightly so no passing person could possibly hear her. There was no one in sight. He listened with all the intensity of someone hearing that there was life on Mars. Snippets of her admission floated continuously in his mind long after she had already said them.
"I'm from another timeline, I'm not actually the prep you know me as in the Vortex Club. You and I are just a couple of nerds on the outskirts of Blackwell." Gee thanks, his own mind muttered unconsciously, barely registering the more unbelievable parts of that sentence. She talked about how she discovered her time-travel ability, what happened in the bathroom, and how he had saved her from the wrath of Nathan Prescott. She tumbled over the next day in her story, seemingly deciding to edit down her explanation on the spot rather than doing a complete play-by-play. He wished she would divulge every single detail but he was too frozen in her rant to say anything. She briefly mentioned Kate Marsh without going into it and shook her head as she fought what looked like sour memories. She skipped forward to how she ended up to be in this "timeline" as she kept calling it, saying she discovered she could go back years in the past and "changed something" that drastically altered her reality. And here she was.
She spread her palms out on the table, fingers stretched out. She breathed like she was winded from running a marathon. A silence lingered before them and she stared at her hands, waiting for a response as if anticipating a caning. He fought some foreign urge to touch her trembling fingers.
"Boy…" he said instead, exhaling out. He was still taking it all in. No part of himself was rejecting the idea, which he found a little funny. This felt like just another aspect of the world he could've read about in a textbook. Maybe it was his obsession with The X-Files and time-travelling shows like Dr. Who that kept his mind from imploding. Instead, a dormant excitement bubbled in his chest like a kid on Christmas morning.
"I know it's a lot. And if you can find even a sliver of it to believe, that's really all I ask."
He could believe it all, or at least, he wanted to. It didn't seem all too out of this world to him, he's heard weirder things. Heck, he even believed more insane theories himself. Time-travel? Just another occurrence in the chaotic insanity that is our constantly changing universe. Or, at least, this was what he told himself.
The longer she waited in silence for his reaction, the more the fear became palpable on her face. He wanted to assuage her somehow, by reaching back into her confession for some small facet in which to assure of his belief, albeit incredulously.
"You say I got beat up by Nathan Prescott? Hard to believe. The guy is such a pacifist these days." He offered up a shaking grin and her eyes widened.
"Nathan? A pacifist? You're kidding." Tears welled in her eyes as it sunk in that he was choosing to hear her out. He hoped they were tears of joy. She looked like she wanted to burst out laughing in pure relief.
"Yeah," he continued on, his heart an uncontrollable jackhammer in his chest. It was excitement that drove his voice on now and he fought to keep his volume level. "Since you guys started going out at least."
"WHAT?! I'm dating Nathan Prescott?!" she practically screamed it at him.
His ears tweaked at the noise, for a moment forgetting she would not be privy to such an aspect of her own life. "Oh right, you're not from here," he said it so oddly casually as if she just lived out of state instead of out of this universe. "But yeah, been nothing but civil since. It's been a bit of a blessing. The teachers praise you and the heavens, none too discreetly either." He was laying it on thick, as he often did, but he couldn't stop talking. He wanted to blow her mind too, with the information only he could know. The surprise only continued to mount on her face with each passing word and he took a strange enjoyment from it, the fear long drained out of her eyes. He was glad for this. The strangeness of her time-travel story seemed pale in contrast with the disbelief of how she looked at him now.
"Augh, this is fucked up… I wonder what else is different…" Maxine talked to herself, her voice low in her chest. When she realized where her thoughts had drifted, she looked back up at him, following the trail of their previous topic. Of all the things to question in this timeline, she chose to ask about his relationship status. "I see you and Stella are together…"
He felt taken aback, figuring that the love of his life would be a constant in the universe. He mentally reprimanded himself for thinking such a corny line, Stella would've smacked him. "Are we not together in the alternate world?" He said it with such surprise that it transferred over to his companion's expression.
"No, actually…" she hesitates, "I don't think you two are very close." There's a curious twinge to her voice and he wonders if there is more that she isn't telling him, like she's trying to protect him from some hidden truth. Maybe Stella hates him in the alternate timeline? The thought makes him frown.
"That's a real shame. You should tell alternate Warren to get on that, the idiot." A laugh escapes his throat. It really was a shame, and he was suddenly grateful that he existed in the world where Stella and him found one another. He was minutely surprised by the ease in which he accepted the alternate world as truth, and Maxine seemed to sense this in equal doses.
She laughed awkwardly, "You're taking this… remarkably well." Her hands were curled now, back in tight fists on the wooden tabletop.
"I mean, I want to believe, Maxine," he laughed at his own dumb X-Files reference, earning a look from the girl across from him. "There's so much about the universe that we don't and can't understand… I guess this is me just suspending my disbelief." He shrugged as if it explained away his easy acceptance, and he didn't want to go further into his own thought-process anyway, for fear of finding fault or revealing to her just how much he truly did want to believe her.
"Max."
"Huh?" Her voice broke him from his trance and his eyes locked again with hers.
"Just Max. Not Maxine."
"I figured you'd get heated if anyone who wasn't your…friend called you that, here at least." He couldn't help referencing his own world. The differences, no matter how trivial, all astounded him. Though he didn't let it show.
"Well it's the opposite for… this "me" at least," she gestured to herself, tugging stoically at her cardigan. She didn't appear to care much for the garment, and began to look at it with disdain.
"Alright then… "Max." Cool name for a girl." He had always thought so.
"Do you know anything else about the "me" in this universe? What am I like?" Curiosity played at the edges of her voice. I guess even she couldn't help wanting to know more about something that otherwise would never exist.
He thought quietly for a moment and rubbed at his chin in forced theatrics. He mulled over the information he had at his disposal. It wasn't much, and he didn't exactly want to lie to her. "Well… you're kind of stand-offish. I feel like you like the feeling of being worshipped, but you'd never admit that, probably."
"Jeez…"
"You love sounding like a know-it-all in class," he continued, enjoying the disgust that manifested on her face in such a comical fashion.
"Me? No way."
"Don't worry, I'm the same way." They shared a laugh and he wondered if the Warren of her world was typically the same in that regard. She had said they were friends right? That must mean there was a part of each other that got along. He was still trying to wrap his head around that fact. The "Maxine" he was meeting right now must be entirely different for them to have formed a kinship… unless it was the other Warren that was different. His head was spinning.
"I don't sound like myself at all," she half sighed, unable to believe it.
"Other than that, I guess I don't pay too much attention. Actually, this is the longest we've ever been in the same breathing space."
She shook her head and mulled over the new information, watching the nearby fountain as if seeing it for the first time. Eventually, her small voice mumbled, "I can't believe such a change in the past could alter everything about my life."
Though he believed she wasn't addressing him, Warren pressed forward, "you mentioned you changed something big and ended up here. What was it?"
Something akin to shame ghosted over her face. Her mouth fell open momentarily and he heard the quick catch of her throat, and her eyes misted, all in the span of a few quick and painful seconds. He quickly waved his hands to dismiss his question.
"You don't have to tell me. I think I've heard more than enough for a single afternoon."
Her face relaxed. He could tell this was too heavy a subject for the current air between them and he didn't want to spoil what comfort she had worked so ardently towards.
"So you do believe me?" she asked for the third time that day. Her voice was small still, almost pleading. No matter how many times he reassured her, he worried she would never stop questioning him on the matter.
"I probably just need to sort out my thoughts and sleep on it. Will you still be here… tomorrow?" His thoughts hesitated. Would she stay in this timeline? What did her presence in his timeline mean for the Maxine Caulfield of the world that he knew? Was she gone forever? He wasn't so sure how he felt about that but seeing Nathan's newfound calm exterior pop into his mind made him inwardly grimace. It was obvious that this Max did not care for the boy.
He was still contemplating this when her voice squeaked out again in admission, a determination replacing her uncertain tone. "That's why I need your help. I need to make things right again."
"'Right'? You mean return to your own timeline?" Something about her words made his mind hum alive like a startled engine. She hadn't noticed the hardened stare he affixed her with as she continued talking.
"Basically resetting this one back to normal," she said, resolute.
"Normal?" he questioned, the humming in his mind working at an increasingly quickening pace. "What's so wrong with this one?"
"Many things actually. I've made a mistake… I need to fix everything." She nodded, a concrete firmness to her mouth as she spoke clearly and evenly as if she knew she had no other choice in the matter. She would fix everything even if it was the last thing she did.
Something in him snapped, the revving of his mind coming to an absolute peak. He finally realized what bothered him about what she was saying and his words came out quicker and angrier than he anticipated. "But who says you should determine the way things ought to go? What gives you the right?"
His harsh tone caught her off guard and her head whipped to him in surprise, the force of which caused a crick in her neck. She cringed, wincing at the pain or at his accusation, he couldn't be sure. A moment of hurt realization sunk into the space between them and the pair looked hard at one another. "It was never supposed to be this way," she sounded defensive. "This isn't me or my life!"
He leaned up tall in his seat, a palm flattened against his chest, "but it's OURS!"
She sunk back, her mouth fell open as if to retort but all she could summon was a weak sigh of her far too familiar sounding voice, "Warren…"
He lowered himself, his hand dropped back to the table in a fist. He suddenly found he couldn't meet her gaze and his eyes travelled to some shape in the distance. Even his response sounded far off. "I don't want to lose this life. I'm happy where I am. Is your universe so much better that the rest of us have to vanish into oblivion for yours to exist?"
She looked clearly scolded, like a child receiving punishment for a crime they knew they were guilty of. The sight made him want to wilt but his shoulders remained squared. She had to know that whatever she wanted to do… it wasn't right or fair. "I don't know how it works… I shouldn't have tampered with time to begin with. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I thought I was doing the right thing by changing the past."
He deflated at her admission. She sounded so weary, the burden of her own mistake clearly weighing on her and her mind. Whatever it was that caused her to change the past and what the consequences of her actions were, he wasn't sure he even wanted to know anymore.
She continued, a stream of tears leaving invisible tracks down her freckled cheeks. He didn't mean to make her cry. "I just wanted to make things right. I'm sorry I brought you into it. I shouldn't have done anything. I know it was wrong. You do look so happy. Happier than I've ever seen you. I don't want to take that away. I know—"
"Please stop," he implored her with a gentleness he didn't know he had in him. He didn't want to hear that desperate voice anymore, it was beginning to pain him, as if he was personally responsible for her struggle. "We'll talk more about this, okay?" He tried to muster up an encouraging smile and worked to dismiss the darker accusations he had swimming around in his head.
She quickly nodded, her gaze falling back to the table. Inhaling deeply, her quivering breaths settled back to normal as silence fell between them. He rapped absentmindedly on the wood, feeling sorry. It's not like the pair of them were even familiar acquaintances at this point so it was weird engaging someone he barely knew so seriously. And yet, the odd feeling that fizzled between them dissipated at a rapid rate. He could believe that the two were friends in some other world, judging by how easy and real the energy felt between them. As if he had always known her.
He sighed. "Hey." Her head lifted. "Maybe… you'll learn to like it here after all."
She coughed out a laugh, a heavy and sardonic one. "I seriously doubt that."
"Why?" He genuinely wanted to know. Maxine Caulfield's life, as far as he could tell, was a pretty easy-going one. She seemed happy with her situation.
"For one thing… I hate Nathan Prescott. I hate the Vortex Club. I sound like a brat. And you and I aren't even friends anymore—"
"That's a few things."
"—Not to mention I've done some horrible and irrevocable damage to someone I love."
He regarded her words. They must seem like the end of the world to her, to have everything flipped so drastically over its head. But he wanted to remain positive, at least for her sake, and partially for his. "Those things can be changed, you know."
"Right." Her sad tone was replaced with a flippant one and he was internally glad for the shift in mood.
"And Nathan, at least in this universe, isn't so bad. With your influence," he tacked on the end.
"I guess."
"And I can't speak for the damage to the person you love but… we can always become friends." He looked at her and smiled. All traces of her earlier pain had mostly been washed away.
"I suppose." She returned the grin and his widened.
But her face quickly dropped soon after and her response was once more a solemn one. "That last one… is a big one. It's the biggest reason I need to return to my original timeline." She wiped at her cheeks as she mulled over more thoughts in her head. "I don't even think I have a good relationship with my family here. Everyone hates me. The texts I've gotten… I sound like a monster."
"More things that can change," he pressed, a hopeful and optimistic cadence to his words. He wanted to sound like some sort of motivational speaker but her expression remained unconvinced.
Her eyes turned skyward suddenly like she sensed a shift in the surrounding atmosphere. Her gaze searched the horizon for some unseen presence. He resisted the urge to follow her line of sight, keeping his own eyes on her face. "This… thing is bigger than I can even fully articulate. Even the storm is still coming. Do you feel that? In the air?"
He reached a hand out and mimicked her pose, as if he could touch whatever electricity was swimming around them. He knew what she meant, and he had felt it stirring for the past couple of days. Then again, the weather in general was in odd disarray. Snow… an eclipse… "You mean all of the strange weather phenomena?" His pulse quickened. Of all things to be similar between the two timelines, something as grand and world altering as unstoppable Mother Nature… it scared him.
"Yes. It's happening even in my world. I wonder what it all means." Her arms wrapped around herself as a chill picked up. It was as if the air could sense it was under scrutiny and made itself known. The hairs on his arms were sticking up but he was sure it wasn't from the cold, but something else.
"Hmm…" he appraised her silently. A tightness forming in his stomach as his mind whipped through the myriad of information he had had thrown at him in the course of a single afternoon. He felt skeptical, excited, hopeful, and fearful all at once and a light dazed quality was making its way over his line of vision. He worried he might pass out.
His newfound companion broke the silence with a clearing of her throat and his brain returned to the present. He could mull over everything he learned at a later time, most likely against his will. He'll probably be thinking about this for days.
She was sitting up straighter now with her face clearly examining him. "Warren," there was his name again, sliding so effortlessly from her mouth, "I just wanted to say… thank you so much for listening to me." Her hand reached for his and she briefly touched the top of his wrist. He felt frozen in place, unable to properly react and she pulled back before he could even move. "I knew I could count on you, even across universes." Her smile was so sad that a dull ache made its way through his chest. It looked like she was considering some far-away painful truth and he wondered momentarily what their relationship was like in the alternate timeline.
He voiced his thoughts, speaking quickly as if she might disappear any moment, even his arm shot out, as if to catch her. "What am I like?"
The question caught her off guard and her mouth parted in surprise before settling back into a thoughtful look. Her head tilted and she considered her words. "You're my goofball Warren…" he grinned at that and her voice continued softly. "You always make me laugh and smile… and you always help me out in a tight spot. I wouldn't know where I'd be without you." She finished quietly, letting him turn over her words in his mind.
"Wow, I have a lot to live up to…" he felt humbled by her words, as if the person he currently was wasn't nearly close to that level. And the way she talked about his alternate self, it was so warmly personal that he began to question something else entirely.
"I'm sure you're fine the way you are," she added, her body turned to the side and away from his scrutiny.
His mind shook itself awake and he returned to the tail-end of their previous conversation before his curiosity got the better of him. He caught her attention again, now spluttering, off-kilter. "Anyway, don't fret too much. I'll help you figure something out. Might even convince you to stick around!" A part of him now wanted her to stay, but he couldn't properly voice this. After hearing the differences between her two separate lives, he had to know that this wasn't the place for her. They both knew it, somehow.
She shrugged, a weak smile on her lips. "Crazier things have happened."
"Warren!" a voice rang out and he jumped visibly in his seat.
He stood without thinking, a crazed hurriedness to his expression as if he was just shaken awake from a dream. "Oh, sorry, that's Stella, I've gotta—I better go." She regarded him passively as he gathered up his minimal belongings.
Her expression hadn't changed when he looked up again. "It was… really nice to finally meet you, Maxine. I mean- Max." The name was solid. But he wanted to slap himself. What a foolish thing to say, as if they hadn't just had a life-altering conversation. Still, it seemed fitting. This girl across from him wasn't the same person he knew in his classes and yet she might as well be.
He smiled again, wanting to rouse a similar delight in her and she obliged, even as he slowly walked backwards, away from the bench where she remained seated. He didn't want to lose sight of her just yet, afraid she'd fade away as dreams so often do.
She picked an arm up and waved at him, a desolately hopeful look on her face. "Goodbye, Warren," she called out. He hated how final that sounded and didn't repeat it back to her.
He waved instead, "I'll see you around!" He hoped that was true.
He forcibly turned his head away and jogged away, not wanting to look back.
}{
AN: So this idea was bumping around my head for the longest time. I even drew some fanart based off of it, lol. I wish in the game that Max stayed in the alternate timeline for at least a little longer. I would've liked to see just how weird and different it was.
I took some liberties with what actually took place in the game and basically, this story happens after Max had visited with Chloe and discovered what happened to her but where Max didn't immediately return after finding the old picture.
I had a ton of ideas with this, and I could honestly turn it into some huge multi-chapter fic but I might keep it as a (two?) oneshot for now. Actually, since finishing the game, I've had quite a huge story in the works that I don't want to publish until I get most of the story down! Anyway, hope you enjoyed this. It's quite simple, not very romantic. Just a sad look at Max and Warren's relationship... thanks for reading :)