Hey guys, myself and Tyler are back with another fic. This one is of lower priority for us right now, but we wanted to get it started to see how it faired. This is a crossover with the DC universe, mostly the part related to Batman. While it'd be too impractical to include all the possible part of the universe, potential future instalments might include some familiar faces.
Anyway, without further ado let's start this.
Prologue: Cold Open
O'Death, O'Death, won't you spare me over 'til another year...
Gotham City was unlike any other place on earth. In most cases, this would be a ringing endorsement, or an advertisement for tourists… in this particular case however it was nothing but the cold, hard truth. Gotham City was a sprawling city scape, Skyscrapers overshadowing the more destitute ground level slums. The city wasn't what it appeared to be at first glance, and instead of the well-to-do businesses and blue-collar work ethics of Metropolis or Star City, Gotham's people lived side by side with criminals and the mob, along with assorted corrupt politicians and officeholders who had ruled Gotham for generations.
Then, the Batman came along, and started slowly inspiring a wave of change… but not all of that change was good. When Batman came, the nature of crime changed as well criminals becoming more dangerous, more desperate, and more vicious. As one young woman was about to learn, just because Batman was in the town, did not mean crime and destruction halted…
James Gordon sighed tiredly, leafing through the scrawled notes he had on the young girl laying unconscious on a bed just a few feet from where he was stood, "Maxine Vanessa Caulfield," he read off in a soft yet clear voice, shaking his head slightly as his eyes scanned over the saddening details he had access to, "fourteen years old, born in Arcadia Bay Oregon. Has been in Gotham for a little over a year…"
He looked into the window of the hospital room, giving the girl a long look before taking off his glasses to pinch the bridge of his nose. She was small, easily below five and a half feet and thin, but not unhealthily so. Her face was pale and even in her sleep she seemed terrified and uneasy, tossing and turning as much as the IV would allow. While she was in a much better state than when she'd been brought in, she still looked like death warmed up. Whichever way he looked at it, this young girl had experienced much more than she ever should have physically, mentally and emotionally especially at such a young age, but at least she was still alive which could be seen as a miracle in itself. Mind you, some would argue living after experiencing that much trauma and loss was worse than simple death. At the very least, it would change her and probably not for the better.
She had been in and out of consciousness for the past couple of days. When she had been awake, she hadn't said much at all to anyone. He'd tried to gently question her, as had some of the doctors, but she hadn't been in any shape to answer them and even if she had been, she probably wouldn't be able to give them the information they wanted anyway. In fact, the most he'd gotten out of her in his last visit was a brief hopeless and heartbreaking glance before she'd turned her attention back to the window overlooking the bustling city streets. He wanted to help her somehow, but knew that there was little he could do until Max herself wanted it. Regardless of what had happened exactly, they now had to deal with the aftermath as best they could.
He was vaguely proud of himself when he hardly reacted to the presence that seemed to form from the shadows of the hallway behind him, "How is she?" the gruff baritone asked, and the man's ominous shadowy form settling next to him.
Gordon allowed himself to glance over at his mysterious companion, "She'll live," he answered with a slight frown, "She's been through a lot. She's taken at least four broken ribs, a severe concussion, a serious bone fracture in her arm..." he leafed through a few of the pages again outlining her medical stats from the past couple of days along with notes on her general mental state and other details they'd managed to piece together, "Doctors recommend getting her professional help but she refused. Says she doesn't trust the therapists in this city. Or in general," he returned the notes before turning back to the man who had saved her, Gotham City's own personal hero, "I can't say I blame her."
"I should've gotten there sooner," the Bat murmured, the eerie glow of his eyes examining the broken girl, "I could've stopped them."
"You can't be everywhere at once," Gordon reminded him, "As good as you are, you're only one man."
Nobody could deny the influence Batman had over the safety of Gotham City and all those residing in it. He'd stopped countless, often life-threatening, threats dead in their tracks and worked tirelessly to clean up the streets of some of the deadliest villains this world had to offer, the worst of whom being the Joker, a highly deranged lunatic intent on causing endless chaos and therefore made him Batman's arch-nemesis. If anything happened in Gotham, it was safe to assume that the Joker was involved in some way or another and that was never a good sign. He wouldn't hesitate to murder hundreds of innocent people just because he could.
The Batman was quiet for a long while, examining Caulfield with an unwavering gaze, "She faces a dark path. She wasn't brought to this city voluntarily, and now she's trapped here," he regarded Gordon with a sideways glance, "Do right by her Jim," and he turned away, "I'll contact you as soon as I have something," with that, the Batman melted into the shadows and disappeared into the night.
"I'll try my best. I always do," Gordon whispered into the silence as his eyes fell back to the hospital bed.
Five Years Later…
The sound of a motor was heard as a motorcycle sped down the highway, the driver enjoying the feeling of the wind lapping at her skin. At this time of night, the streets were much clearer so removing the restriction on the speed the bike could reach. With the slight ghost of a smirk, the driver revved the motorcycle, adrenaline rushing through her body as she raced off down the now empty road to her destination.
The only light she had to go by was the one on the front of the bike and that of the moon dimly shining down from the midnight blue sky. There never had been many streetlights around here, not leading up to such a small town. It didn't matter to her though, it was all the light she needed. She felt the bike jolt a bit as the wheel ran over a small dip in the ill-maintained road, but she soon got it back under control.
As the town came into view she pulled on the handlebars and slid neatly to a stop on the side of the road, taking her helmet off and revealing brown hair and crystalline blue eyes, Arcadia Bay… she mused, regarding the town from on high, it's hardly changed.
Time almost seemed to stand still in towns like Arcadia Bay, not like the high-octane city of Gotham, where time never seemed to move slowly enough. She kicked the bike to life, enjoying the purr of the engine as she put the helmet back on, and ensured her duffle bag was secure. She pulled away from the curb and back onto the highway, It's been such a long time since I've been here… time to get the lay of the land.
A feeling of immense nostalgia washed over her the closer she got to the town she'd grown up in. No matter where she went or how long she stayed away for, deep down Arcadia would always feel like home, somewhere she could put down her roots. Everyone needed a place like that, her more so than anyone. There was a slight flicker of confliction in her mind however. It felt as strange to be back as it did comforting. So much had changed since she left, her most of all. Dragging up the past was always a sensitive issue, especially when you had been through so much as she had. Being back was bittersweet, a reminder of the life she could no longer lead.
She shook her head lightly, pushing back on these thoughts as the familiar dense forest became visible. She had to admit, she'd missed the nature of Arcadia. While Gotham had its moments of beauty, when the city fell silent apart from the gentle hum of the odd passing car and the lights all blurred into one against the dark backdrop night brought, it didn't quite measure up to witnessing the sun slowly disappear below the horizon while stood at the cliff's edge staring out over the calm ocean or sitting down at the shoreline, cool water lapping at bare feet, a warm breeze ruffling hair as it hit the golden hour with fingers idly traced patterns in the sand. It really was a completely different, almost contrasting, atmosphere to the one she had become accustomed to over the past few years and a welcomed change in a way.
She slowed a little, guiding the bike along the narrow twisting roads she knew almost like the back of her hand as she approached the main concentration of buildings in the sleepy town. She could potentially spend weeks re-exploring her childhood home if she let herself. She didn't plan to stay here for too long, this was merely a brief pit-stop on a longer journey. She couldn't afford to get caught up and lost in the memories attached to this place. It was dangerous, last time she'd lapsed it'd nearly cost her life.
After a couple of minutes, she pulled into a small parking lot beside an extremely familiar building, one she had frequented as a kid. The Two Whales Diner -like the rest of the town- had hardly changed over the last years, simply looking more run down than before. Max suspected that the inside would pretty much be the same story. She gave a fond smile as she smelled the food cooking and pulled the helmet off her head before chaining her bag to her motorcycle and turning off the engine.
Her stomach grumbled in anticipation as she sorted herself out. In all the time she had been away, she had yet to find a diner that served food as delicious as at the Two Whales and she'd tried. Once ready, she slowly made her way over to the door leading into the diner. It must be coming up to closing time, but she figured that she'd left enough to grab a drink and a quick bite to eat. Under the strict diet and exercise regime she'd been sticking to over the past few years, she hadn't been to many diners like the Two Whales, since all they really served was greasy trucker food and desserts. It was almost crazy to think how much every single part of her daily life had changed in such a short space of time. She was essentially a completely different person now, running to tight schedules and training her ass off to maintain the level of fitness required, not to mention no longer living off junk food which had been a major staple before.
She strode out of the parking lot and made a sharp left, approaching the small set of stairs leading up to the door into the diner, a path she had taken so many times as a kid that she could probably do it with her eyes closed. As she reached the top, she pushed on the door and was immediately hit with an overpowering scent that sent her stomach grumbling into overdrive. The interior of the diner hadn't changed a bit apart from a few different leaflets and posters dotted around, with everything in the exact same position from the booths lining the wall nearest the door down to the retro jukebox in the far right hand corner.
There weren't many people here at this time of night, most people were at home with their families. So the only people at the Two Whales were people like her, travelers or drifters. She spotted a familiar head of dirty blond hair behind the counter, and allowed a sad smile to grace her features. She turned, and found the booth that sat in the corner of the building and put her back to the window, keeping the entrance in sight. That is one of the important things she'd learned over the years, always prepare at least two escape routes, more if possible, just in case. She knew of at least two conventional exits, the front door and the one leading through a storage room out into the side alley. She could also smash a window if required, though that wasn't ideal given the mess, noise and potential risk of injury. After scanning the area to remind herself of the layout and to check for any obvious inconsistencies that could indicate trouble was on the horizon, coming up blank, she relaxed a fraction. With everything she'd seen and been told, she remained vigilant wherever she was. She could never afford to truly unwind.
She smiled as the familiar waitress walked around the counter toward her with a half full pot of black coffee and a mug, watching as the flicker of recognition grew strong in her eyes as she approached, "Now, here is a face I haven't seen in a while."
"Hi, Joyce," Max greeted Joyce as she poured out a steaming cup, pushing it over to her, "It's been a long time," she murmured, accepting the coffee easily.
"Much too long," Joyce added while standing up straight once more, "I was starting to think that you wouldn't ever stop by."
"You're not the only one," Max muttered under her breath as she took a sip of her coffee. She hummed slightly as the warmth raced down her throat. She enjoyed the quiet atmosphere that surrounded the diner at night, "I kept meaning to get back here at some point…"
Ever since she left Arcadia, time seemed to have run away from her, always just beyond her fingertips. Maybe it had been the change in pace, or the fact that so much had happened, either way it felt as if she was constantly playing catch-up. There were never enough hours in the day to get everything done and she rarely had time to just chill out on her own any more. When she did get one of those rare and fleeting moments, there was always something on her mind preventing her from completely relaxing.
"At least you made it now," Joyce pointed out, "I'm glad to see that you're safe. Maybe it's just my motherly instincts, but I did worry about you. You moved so suddenly and none of us really knew what was going on."
A slight pang of guilt entered the pit of Max's stomach. Even though the move hadn't been her choice, she didn't like the thought of making Joyce worry. While in Arcadia, Joyce had essentially been a second mom for her, "Trust me, I would have preferred to stay, but…" her voice faded into silence as she stared down at her half empty mug. There was no way she could tell Joyce what actually happened, or anyone else for that matter.
Joyce picked up on Max's sudden reluctance to speak, so changed the subject to break the tense atmosphere building up, "The important thing is that I got to see you again, even though I suspect it's only for a brief visit, right?"
"For now, yeah," Max admitted. While she would love to spend the time catching up with Joyce, she had other things that needed her attention first. Maybe one day she would be able to get things under control enough to come this way for longer… and maybe that was unrealistic optimism and wishful thinking talking.
"I figured as much," Joyce sighed, before shaking her head, "Oh look at me rambling here. I'm sure you didn't come to hear me go on like this. Let's sort you out with some food, shall we?"
As if on cue, Max's stomach grumbled angrily, the sound inspiring a soft chuckle from Joyce as she took the order and temporarily left Max alone with her thoughts. She took the time to really look over the diner, and not from a threat-scanning perspective. On closer inspection, she noticed the wear and tear that had resulted from time passing. A few of the booth seats had small rips on them, the tables lined with indentations scratched into the surface and the paint on the walls was beginning to peel and yellow, in desperate need of a new coat. Joyce soon returned with her order, a plate of eggs and bacon that she was probably going to regret eating later, but for now she would enjoy it.
She rubbed her hands together eagerly, inhaling the mouthwatering smell, "Thanks, Joyce. This is awesome."
"You're very welcome," Joyce mentioned with a smile, which soon faded to give way to a curious, if a little worried, look, "Tell me something, is that bike out there yours?"
Max pushed the food around her plate with her fork before replying, knowing that Joyce would probably freak out over it, "Sure is."
Joyce glanced over to the direction of the parking lot, "Well, well, you would be the very last person I would expect to own something like that. It seems more Chloe's scene nowadays."
On the mention of Chloe, Max winced involuntarily. She had been wanting to ask about her childhood best friend, but equally she'd been wanting to avoid the topic altogether, knowing that when it had been brought up, there would be no way to take it back, "The bike was a birthday gift," she answered reluctantly. It was true, Dick had surprised her on her 17th with the bike. He'd waved it off at the time saying it was easy to get.
"I forget that you are old enough to be driving one around. I can still picture you as a shy teen running around Arcadia playing pirates with Chloe," a fond smile formed on Joyce's face, one that was soon tinged with melancholy, "You know, at some point I think she might appreciate seeing you again. I understand that you are probably busy with... whatever it is you do now, but I think it would do her the world of good to see a friendly face and probably for you too."
It's not that she didn't want to see Chloe again, she did more than anything, but it just wasn't practical now. Chloe had an insatiable curiosity and would ask her so many questions she couldn't answer, not only that but it would put her in danger, something Max never wanted to happen. Still… she needed to set things straight between them if nothing else.
She lightly drummed the fingers on the side of the mug, thinking up a way to say this without sounding like a total asshole or giving anything away, "I would like that, but… I don't think it's possible right this minute," there was so much she had to prepare and do before she even considered making social calls, but she couldn't put it off forever.
"I had a feeling you would be saying that. Still, I had to try," Joyce softly mentioned.
Max looked up earnestly at her, "Seriously Joyce, I really do want to see her again. I'm just... not in a position to right now."
"I believe you, Max. It's just a shame."
Max shuffled in her seat, her foot gently tapping on the floor, "I really hate to ask you this Joyce, but do you think you can keep quiet about me being here just for now? Chloe will probably get some weird idea about try find me and… she won't be able to."
Joyce let out a small sigh, considering her options before nodding tiredly, "Only because it's you, Max. Just… try to see her when you can. That's all I ask."
Max nodded in response, "I will, Joyce. A chat with Chloe is long overdue. As soon as I can, I'll go see her. Promise."
"That's good enough for me," the once troubled expression on Joyce's face turned back to her usual cheerful one, if a little forced, "Anyway, I'll leave you to it now. Enjoy your meal and welcome back," Joyce made her way back to the counter and Max began to dig into her food.
As she polished off her meal she reached into her pocket and pulled out a fifty, "Thank you for the meal Joyce," Max smiled warmly "I'll probably come visit tomorrow or the day after," she stood, "Keep the change," before Joyce had the chance to protest, Max strode on out of the diner, quickly disappearing off into the night.
30 minutes later - 44 Cedar Avenue - Price House - Chloe's Bedroom
Chloe lounged back on her bed as she stared up at the ceiling, inhaling the smoke deeply before passing the half-smoked joint back over to Rachel, who accepted it lethargically. They'd been lying here for about half an hour just chilling out, which was only really possible because David was off terrorizing Arcadia Bay's residents or however else he spent his time. So long as it wasn't her or Rachel she really couldn't care less.
The only problem with moments like these, when she started to relax and zone out, is that they didn't last long. Whenever she finally managed to get her head clear, something she hadn't thought about in a while always shot to the forefront of her mind and disrupted her momentary peace. On the agenda today was something she had been trying exceptionally hard, and for a time succeeding, to forget about, to be more accurate someone. She shuffled on the bed, trying to suppress the images that were brought to mind on recalling that particular person, bittersweet memories from her childhood. They were as painful to remember as they were happy, a reminder of how things could have been had certain events not transpired.
She was vaguely aware of the hand being extended in her direction, the joint lazily held between manicured fingers. She took it, brushing her fingers against Rachel's hand as she did, before bringing it to her lips and breathing in the smoke once more, then returning it to Rachel. This thankfully cleared her mind again, for a few more moments anyway before the images pushed back again. A youthful, pale freckled face materialized, a wide dorky grin fixed to it and soft doe-like blue eyes that sparkled with carefree joy… a face that belonged to her childhood best friend, Max Caulfield.
A little over six years ago now, Max just upped and left Arcadia. Her parents had decided on the move because they were hard up on cash and Arcadia just wasn't able to provide them with what they needed to stay. Being self-employed in a small ghost town like Arcadia Bay just wasn't possible. Instead, they headed for the big city in search of a market. The move had been a quick turnaround, with the Caulfield's existence in Arcadia completely gone within a week of making the decision and it really couldn't have come at a worse time as in that week Chloe's father had been involved in a car accident, leading to his death just two days before Max was scheduled to leave. The whole situation had been a mess and the two of them hadn't kept in contact after Max left.
Chloe had cycled through so many different thought patterns about Max's abandonment over the years, anger, betrayal, bitterness, resentment, self-consciousness, depression... and most of all an overwhelming desire to see her again despite everything. Max had been the one person apart from her parents she could turn to no matter what and feel as if she wasn't going to get judged or laughed at. She always listened and seemed to know exactly what to say or do to make things better. Losing that support at such a crucial time had really hit Chloe hard and she'd expressed her anger over it by acting out and rebelling at every given moment, certain events only exacerbating that behavior such as David becoming a permanent member of their family a mere few months after William's death.
She'd often wondered what Max was doing now, probably thriving at some fancy art school, following her dream to become a photographer and making something of herself, while she was laying here, a dropout pissing away her potential. She was stuck in a vicious cycle, doomed to a dismal fate where she'd probably end up drinking herself into a coma one day, or worse. Even with that knowledge, nothing seemed to change.
"Hey, Chloe," the voice brought her out of her trance-like state, "can you pass me the ashtray before I burn my fingers," Rachel held up the joint to demonstrate it was finished.
"Yeah sure," she reached over to her bedside table and grabbed the red ashtray, thrusting it in Rachel's direction, who quickly stubbed the remainder of the joint out leaving only dying out embers and faint wisps of smoke. Chloe placed the ashtray back on the table, repositioning herself on the bed with her hands behind her head. She'd have to remember to get rid of it before David got home, as he made it a habit of barging in uninvited and would bust her ass over it. The last thing he needed was more ammo against her. She let out a small sigh and closed her eyes for a moment, hoping that something would change and soon.
Hotel Lobby
Max approached the front desk to check in. She'd only brought the basic essentials along with her, figuring that if she really needed anything she could just buy it, so she hardly had any luggage, just enough to fill a small duffel bag now slung over her shoulder. Once everything had been sorted out and she'd gotten the key to her room, she made her way up to her room on the second floor via the stairs since the elevator was out of order, not that she probably would have used it anyway. This place wasn't going to be winning any prizes for being the best hotel around, but she'd seen worse, much worse. When she'd reached the right floor, she strode down the painting lined hallway until she saw the door to her room. She fished the key out of her pocket, putting it in the lock and turning it with a slight click, before pushing on the handle and entering the room.
As expected, the room wasn't five-star quality, but had what she needed. The walls were painted a very dull shade of beige with a faded red carpet covering the floor. A door leading into a small bathroom sat just to her right on entering the room with off-white tiles, a sink with a mirror attached to the wall above it, a toilet in the far right hand corner directly opposite it and a shower tucked into the furthest left hand corner, a metal towel rail and shelf with an assortment of small bottles filled with shampoo and shower gels. In the main room, there was a double bed with red sheets pushed against the right hand side wall in the middle, a couple of wooden bedside tables either side with lamps, one of which didn't work, and on the left hand side table was a phone. Opposite the bed were a few chests of drawers, a small TV sat atop which only had access to a limit number of channels. In the left hand corner nearest the door was a closet set in the wall, only containing a few coat hangers and it would probably stay that way for as long as Max stayed here.
After having a quick explore, she dumped her bag on the bed, causing it to dip slightly from the added weight accompanied by the squeak of the bed springs. It surprised her how heavy the bag felt considering how little she'd packed, mostly just some clothes for the next few days and money, not that it was any struggle for her. There were other things she needed such as her costume, which had been too bulky to transport on her bike, but had figured she could get them flown in using the Batwing when she got here. Which reminded her… she took a small metal device from the bottom of the bag, hidden under the clothes, and set in her co-ordinates.
She smiled as, like clockwork, her phone rang, "Gordon," she answered with a smirk.
"I see you've called in the Batwing, Miss Caulfield," Alfred Pennyworth said, his accent as apparent as ever, "I seem to recall nothing of interest in Arcadia Bay. What have you found that warrants investigation?" the British butler asked.
"A lead." She answered, shrugging noncommittally as she took off her riding jacket and tossed it on the bed. "It's not a big case… it's more… for me personally."
The butler went quiet for a few moments, "I see. Miss Caulfield, a warning if I may?"
"Of course, Alfred."
"Master Bruce spent the better part of five years hunting for his parent's killer," he revealed, his voice subdued, "Do not waste your life like he has."
"I don't intend to Alfred," Max said quietly, knowing that Bruce's family was a touchy subject, "This shouldn't take me more than a couple of weeks."
"I hope you are right Miss," Alfred murmured, "Batwing deployed, it will be at the coordinates you provided in an hour or two."
"Thank you, Alfred," she mentioned before hanging up. She had anticipated the conversation and was glad for it to be over now. She could focus on her reason for coming here with that out of the way. Since she had a couple of hours to kill before she could really get to work, she decided to get warmed up ready for a long night. Besides, she needed to loosen up after traveling.
While there wasn't a lot of space in the room, there was enough to do a light workout. It wouldn't quite be the same as she was used to of course without the access to top line gym equipment and vast areas equipped to practice techniques, but it would suffice. She would just have to pick and choose her exercises, the ones that required less space and made the least amount of noise. She didn't need or want to draw any attention to herself after all. She cracked her knuckles before getting into position on the floor to start off with some press-ups. The action was monotonous and repetitive, and it allowed her mind to clear as she focused on the upcoming night of looking for answers.
"Yes. You do. You know. What do you want?"
Cobalt blue eyes hardened and she raised her head, staring into the eerie glowing eyes, "I want Justice."
The memory flickered through her mind as her well-defined muscles pumped away with each motion, only fueling her work out. It was the one memory she always turned to before setting out on a mission, no matter how small. It kept her focused, reminded her why she was doing this, now more than ever. She felt the very slight buildup of sweat on her brow as she continued with the constant pace and precision of a well-oiled machine just as she had been trained to do over the years. After a while when her arm and shoulder muscles began to tire, not too much though, she switched it up, repositioning herself to do some sit-ups to work her core, enjoying the slight rush of adrenaline prompted by the exercise. It was a feeling she had become accustomed to, and to an extent craved. It wasn't as intense as when in the heat of battle or on the hunt after a target, nothing could ever beat that and she had tried hard to find something to simulate that same rush, but it still felt amazing. She was certain that those like her felt the same way.
With her core muscles thoroughly warmed up, she moved onto the last part of her work out. She stood up and moved onto doing squats to get her thigh muscles going. It was important to ensure she kept every muscle she possibly could ready, as she would no doubt be needing them all for her work. She did not want to pull a muscle through careless action, something she had done countless times when starting out. Once satisfied, she finished off with a few cool down stretches, making sure to rehydrate herself and splash her face and neck with some cold water from the sink in the bathroom, letting it evaporate from her skin naturally. Feeling refreshed, she rolled her shoulders and perched herself on the edge of the bed, idly checking her phone to see how long it had been. She'd been at it for just over an hour and a half, meaning that there wouldn't be too long to wait now. She hated waiting around as it made her feel uneasy remaining inactive for prolonged periods of time, so was eager to get down to business.
She smiled as the small beacon beeped, meaning the Batwing was closing in fast. She stood up from the bed, shoving the beacon into her pocket, before heading on out of the door to outside around the back of the hotel. She only had to wait a few minutes before she heard the very slight whoosh of air as the Batwing descended. It hovered silently and slightly menacingly above her, before something cylindrical dropped out of it and landed hard. Her smile widened on seeing the stealth plane and she placed a hand on the black square as it scanned her biometrics. After confirming her approved access, the dark metals slid open without delay to reveal the familiar outfit and her typical arsenal of gadgets.
She pulled her cowl up over her face and retrieved tools such as the grappling hook, an assortment of Batarangs and smoke grenades. She stepped away as the Batwing collected the now empty container before taking off again, silently gliding its way to Gotham, where its owner resided.
She aimed the grappling hook at the roof, allowing it to accelerate and pull her up, and she landed in a crouch. She allowed herself a smirk on executing a perfect landing, one she had spent many hours practicing… and messing up before she had honed the technique. Let's get to work.
The Next Morning - Price House
Chloe tiredly plodded downstairs, yawning and rubbing at her eyes, nearly tripping over a pair of her boots she'd kicked off haphazardly at the bottom of the stairs last night. She cursed under her breath after stubbing her toe, limping slightly as she made her way into the kitchen on the lookout for some breakfast. She'd been initially roused from her slumber by the smell of pancakes, food being pretty much the only thing that could get her out of bed this early in the morning, otherwise emerging from her den by least mid-day at the earliest. Sure enough, she found Joyce at the oven top, humming to herself as she expertly flipped a pancake over in the pan, already dressed in her uniform ready for work. On hearing the shuffling by the entrance, she turned back and offered up a cheerful smile, "I had a feeling you would be coming down."
Chloe stretched her arms over her head, then scratched at her head as her stomach grumbled angrily to demand immediate sustenance, "I always come down for food."
"Don't I know it," Joyce chuckled as she transferred the last pancake over to the impressive stack. She knew however that no matter how many she made, Chloe would eat them without trouble. Her daughter had a bottomless pit for a stomach, years of finding the cupboards completely cleaned out had taught her that. In fact, she couldn't remember the last time Chloe had actually felt full.
"Grab some plates and cutlery would you?" Joyce instructed as she switched off the heat before placing the now dirty pan and spatula in the sink, something Chloe followed up on with surprisingly little resistance. Where food was involved, she was often more compliant. She also gathered together the sugar and various other confectioneries for the pancakes, setting the table messily as Joyce brought over the plate containing the steaming stack, placing it in the center. Before she sat down at her usual place, Joyce flicked on the TV to check in on the latest news as she normally did before heading off to the Two Whales for her morning shift.
Chloe had already disrupted the stack, snaffling up the pancakes and slathering a more than healthy measure of syrup over each one. She'd always had a sweet tooth and it was any wonder how she hadn't had to have any major dental work because of it given her excessive sugar intake, especially as a kid. She abruptly stopped, the fork with pancake skewered on hovering in midair and a wave of dread passing over her as the top story for this morning blared from the TV. Her eyes widened and the fork hit the plate with a loud clang as her hand went limp. She couldn't process the information she'd just heard and neither could Joyce by her shocked expression, which crossed the possibility of her mishearing off the list. Her hands began to shake uncontrollably as she watched the screen with an unwavering attention, really hoping that she would wake up to find this all a nightmare and even pinched the back of her hand to make sure… unfortunately it did nothing but hurt.
She could hear the blood rushing to her ears, the world around her becoming muffled and hazy as she sat there in silent horror, her heart constricting painfully in her chest as the implications of the news story sank in.
"In the very early hours of this morning, an attempted attack on a young woman, now identified as 20-year-old Rachel Amber, occurred in a back alleyway as she was on her way to a party. Two supposed assailants have been identified, Logan Robertson and Nathan Prescott, both of whom sustained injuries reportedly from an unknown savior who rescued Miss Amber before disappearing off into the shadows. The police arrived at the scene shortly after the incident. Neither Miss Amber nor the two accused had any knowledge on the mysterious figure. Miss Amber was rushed to hospital to ensure her wellbeing; however, no reported injuries have been declared."
Chloe let out a very tentative sigh of relief on hearing that, although still feeling tense about the whole situation. She instinctively pulled out her phone, punching in the number she knew off by heart, and dialling it, hoping that Rachel would be able to pick up. She'd seen her last night for Christ's sake, Rachel had even told her about that damn party and asked if she wanted to go along. She'd refused, not wanting to hang out with the assholes who would be there. If she'd just gone with her...
"Come on," she muttered angrily as the phone rang, her heart racing erratically. While the news had said she was ok, Chloe wouldn't be happy until she'd heard it directly from Rachel. Besides, while she might be unharmed physically, something like that could really mess you up mentally.
Just as she was about to throw the phone to the ground in frustration, the call was picked up and a familiar voice answered, sounding shaken up, "I guess you heard, huh?"
Chloe kind of felt like crying now, a lump forming in her throat and her voice coming out half-strangled, "Rach…"
"I'm ok before you ask, well as much as I can be in this situation. I'm just a little shaken by it all," Rachel explained, not wanting Chloe to panic too much.
"Where are you?" Chloe demanded in a no nonsense tone.
"I just came out from giving my statement to the police, so-" she was cut off abruptly.
"Wait there, I'm coming to get you," Chloe announced as she strode over to the door, yanking it open and all but sprinting over to her truck to bring Rachel back here.
"Chloe you don't-" Rachel began to protest.
"I am coming to get you," Chloe insisted defiantly, interrupting Rachel's attempts to deter her, "Just… let me do this, please," her voice wavered at the end.
After a moments silence, a sigh came from the other line, "Okay," Rachel sounded so small and vulnerable now, unlike anything Chloe had ever heard from her before.
"I'll be there before you know it. Hang tight," Chloe affirmed as she heard Rachel hang up.
She jammed the key in the ignition, turning it with immense force and hearing the engine splutter to life. She drove faster than she ever had in her life, thankfully in Arcadia the roads were pretty much clear all the time, especially this early. She still cut up a few people and ran red lights, not that she cared right now. She made it to the police station in record time and parked up on the curb, figuring that one more parking ticket wouldn't kill her. She jumped out almost before the truck had fully come to a stop, not even bothering to lock it before running to the door. Anyone who was desperate enough to steal that Junker was welcome to it. She panted lightly from the exertion and panic, searching the lobby area with desperation, her eyes finally settling on a girl with long blonde hair and hazel eyes sat on a chair against the right hand wall. Her feet moved of their own accord toward Rachel, who soon noticed Chloe's presence and stood up to greet her. Chloe launched herself at Rachel, almost knocking the pair of them over, holding her close with a vice-like grip and pinning her arms to her sides.
"Chloe… can't breathe," Rachel spluttered after a few seconds, causing Chloe to loosen her hold ever so slightly.
"Fuck Rachel, you scared me half to death," Chloe mumbled thickly, feeling the sting of tears in her eyes, "I am not letting you go to another party ever again unless I am with you."
"So my plan on getting you to come next time worked then?" Rachel weakly joked in an attempt to lighten the mood.
Chloe only responded by squeezing her, before releasing her briefly to get a better look at her. She was much paler than usual, her expression tinged with fear and her hazel eyes lacking that playful spark they normally held. Her heart broke on seeing just how helpless she looked, "I'm going to kill those pricks. Just you wait and see," she growled through gritted teeth, anger surging through her body as she clung back onto Rachel to confirm that she was safe, to ensure her eyes weren't lying to her.
"Not if I get there first," Rachel muttered into Chloe's shoulder, now able to return the hug. They stood there for a while in silence, not moving for anyone. Once the initial shock had passed, Chloe reluctantly disengaged and the two of them made their way out of the building towards her truck, which as expected had a familiar yellow parking ticket tucked under the wipers. Chloe simply shoved it in her pocket with the remnants of other tickets and opened the passenger side door for Rachel before getting in the driver's seat.
She so desperately wanted to bombard Rachel with questions, but would wait at least until they got back to her house and she'd calmed down a bit, maybe got some booze or weed into her system. Her hands gripped on tightly to the steering wheel, her knuckles turning white from the pressure as the journey progressed in silence. She kept glancing over at Rachel, who was blankly staring out of the window as the scenery flashed by. That was when you truly knew Rachel wasn't good, if she didn't utter a word. Chloe had only seen her like this once before and it was something she hadn't ever wanted to repeat the experience. This was ten times worse than before.
She soon pulled the truck into the parking space outside her house, scrambling out of the door and hovering around Rachel, but not getting too close, as they made their way towards the door. Rachel needed her space, hating it when people crowded her. It took every ounce of self-restraint for Chloe to keep at arm's length, knowing that Rachel would let her know if she needed her close by. Despite being distracted, something just to the side of the house caught Chloe's attention, more accurately someone. She stopped short, squinting to try and make out who it was and ready to tear into anyone waiting to potentially ambush Rachel.
"I can see you fucker, get your ass where I can see it before I come over there and make you," Chloe snarled aggressively, making sure to put herself in between the figure and Rachel. She had gotten into a few scraps before and could hold her own. She had no qualms in kicking the shit out of someone, especially now when she had all this pent up frustration threatening to bubble over.
The figure calmly stepped out from the shadows. On closer inspection, they were wearing bike leathers and a helmet that obscured their identity. With one swift movement, they took their helmet off, shaking out their mid length brown hair. All the anger dissipated from Chloe's face, replaced with utter bewilderment as her eyes scanned the pale freckled face of the figure that seemed so familiar, yet also different. She tried to speak, but the words got caught in her throat with her mouth opening and closing soundlessly.
If this day wasn't fucked up enough already, the one person she thought she would never see again was just standing there in front of her as if no time had passed. When she finally composed herself enough to speak, she managed to get out a choked, "Max?"
Max simply offered up a melancholic smile in response, her now sharp and icy blue eyes softening a fraction on seeing her best friend, the closest they had come to resembling anything even remotely affectionate in the past few years.
A tense silence passed between them, neither knowing how to go about this or how to really react to one another after such a long time apart. Max had run over numerous conversation that could occur on meeting Chloe, ranging from being shouted at to simply having a door slammed in her face, both of which she probably deserved after not getting in contact the moment she was able, particularly in that first year before… She shook her head, pushing the events of that year involving her parents from her mind, instead focusing on the here and now. On actually being here and seeing Chloe, she realized that there was nothing she could have done to prepare appropriately.
Chloe on the other hand was having a complete internal freak out, doing her best not to let it show. She almost couldn't believe her eyes and in a way she didn't want to. Now was the worst possible time for Max to be showing up. Chloe couldn't decide whether to tear into her or hug her… maybe both in quick succession. After a few seconds of trying to sort out how to react, the blind rage took over, one that had been festering for six long years. She strode over to Max, who simply stood there unmoving with an almost impassive expression on her now sharply defined face, the softness of youth long since gone. She would accept whatever reaction Chloe had to give her, well to a degree anyway.
Her actions now fueled by unadulterated rage, logic and reason no longer factoring into the equation, Chloe pulled her hand back and slapped Max across the face with all the force she could muster. Her palm connected with a loud smack, Max's head jerking to the side from the impact. She barely flinched, having experienced much worse, a sharp stinging sensation moving its way through her cheek. She had to admit, even though Chloe didn't look like it, she could hit pretty hard when she wanted to. There would no doubt be a mark.
Brushing off the -however slight- pain, Max took a deep breath as she stared directly into the eyes of her childhood best friend, seeing the anger consuming them. Seeing the hatred hurt way more than the physical hit she'd received, "I let you have that one because you probably deserve it," Max commented softly.
This did nothing to pacify Chloe, if anything it seemed to further increase the rage, "Fuck you, Max," the twitching of her arm indicated that she would likely go for another swing, "Don't you dare come here and act all high and fucking mighty after what you did," her voice faltered at the end as she took the anticipated second swing.
Max sighed and easily caught her wrist before her hand even got close, much to Chloe's surprise, trying to keep her tone calm, "I said you get one."
The anger Chloe felt temporarily vanished at how quickly Max had caught her hand, as if it were nothing. She used to be the clumsiest person Chloe knew, tripping over her own feet and literally dropping everything she came into contact with. The thought of Max being even partially coordinated was a shock to the system. Before the rage had a chance to take over again, Chloe felt a slight tug at her sleeve. She turned back to look over her shoulder, seeing Rachel staring back at her with tired eyes that begged her to stop this. A pang of guilt entered the pit of Chloe's stomach, feeling like a total ass for ignoring her, especially after what had happened.
She offered up an apologetic smile to Rachel before turning back to Max, her expression hardening and her tone a forced calm tinged with resentment, "Why are you here, Max? What do you want?"
"I… we need to talk," Max mentioned as confidently as she could in this situation.
"No shit," Chloe huffed, "Might be a few years too late for that."
"Maybe… but we can still try, right?" Max suggested weakly, hoping that Chloe would let her just try to make some kind of amends and to explain a bit, nothing too detailed though. There was no way she could tell her everything that had happened, for starts she probably wouldn't even believe her if she did, there was also the fact that she had to remain silent on certain topics for everyone's safety.
Chloe took the time to give Max a long hard look, already noticing some difference in her childhood best friend. She looked generally healthier and fitter, even with the bike leathers on she could tell that. Max used to be so thin, verging on unhealthily so, and looked as if she might break at any given moment. Now though, it appeared as if she'd gain a few pounds, from the looks of it muscle, but it was hard to tell without seeing her out of the leathers. She didn't look quite as pale either, like she'd actually ventured out into the sun a few times over the years instead of holing away in her room as she used to do. She'd also grown a little, nowhere near as tall as Chloe, but enough for it to be noticeable. There was also the way she carried herself, no longer hunched over and shy like before. Even her voice had changed, having a harder edge and sharper intonation as opposed to the soft-spoken stuttered way she used to speak. Everything about her felt familiar, yet also different.
Chloe looked between Max, Rachel and the front door to her house before letting out a tired sigh, "Don't make me regret this, Caulfield," without another word, Chloe strode over to the door, jammed the key inside the lock, opening the door and entered inside the hallway.
So yeah, that is the prologue. We will slowly be revealing what happened to Max throughout the chapters, so if it's a little confusing now it will make more sense later. Part of it has something to do with Max's parents.
Have an awesome day guys and see you next time.