Hello all! Figured I ought to preface this with a few tid bits and facts. Firstly, this is my first time writing a story in general- that being said, criticism, reviews, suggestions or even kind words are always appreciated. Secondly, if you find yourself liking the story, apologies in advance for an erratic upload schedule. I know myself well enough that clear-cut-constant-consistency-clearly-can't be one of my strong suits. Lastly, I hope you enjoy the read!
"This is my storm! I caused this- I caused all of this! I changed fate and destiny so much that I actually did alter the course of everything!" Max's eyes go wide and she wildly gestures at the horrible sight in front of us.
Fuck. Shit. She's panicking.
"And all I really created was just death and destruction!" Even her voice is hoarse.
Okay, time to step in- if I don't this'll become a full-on meltdown.
"Fuck all of that! Okay? You were given a power. You didn't ask for it- And you saved me. Which had to happen. All of this did! Except for what happened to Rachel."
"But without your power, we wouldn't have found her! Okay, so you're not the goddamn time master, but you're Maxine Caulfield."
I grab the frightened hipster by the shoulders for emphasis.
"And you're amazing."
I search her face for some kind of response, but she only stares at the ground. Then at the encroaching storm. The rain is hitting hard enough to sting, the wind is trying to steal my breath. I feel dizzy.
An intrusive thought enters my head. It's like someone is scratching my brain. Suddenly I remember I have the photo Max took before all this began. If she goes back and does nothing, then the storm will never happen.
"Max this is the only way." I speak without thinking. I hand her the polaroid.
My mind starts to split in two and come undone. I can't seriously be proposing that she lets me die in a public bathroom, right? That would be fucking insane. One day I should learn to think then talk.
"I feel like I took this shot a thousand years ago…"
'But it would be selfish not to die. Those people down there don't deserve this.'
Nobody deserves anything. And I don't want to fucking die! Why am I even considering this?
"You… You could use that photo to change everything right back to when you took that picture. All that would take is for me to…to…" I will myself to stop talking, which results in me seizing up as I try to speak and remain silent.
"Fuck that! No. No way! You are my number one priority now. You're all that matters to me." Max almost seems insulted at the proposal.
'Just think about what Rachel would want- She wouldn't care for everyone she's ever known dying in some freak storm.'
What about Rachel!? She never gave a damn about me! She even screwed Frank behind my back! Frank of all people!
'You're still hung up on her, aren't you? Poor Chloe, you can be so spiteful. Even bitchy at times. Get it? Times?'
I mean, I get that in times of stress you can become, like, a different person and shit. But this is crazy on a whole other level. I'm arguing with myself in my own head, while trying to convince my time traveling friend to let me get shot and killed in a public bathroom.
"I know… You proved that over and over again… Even though I don't deserve it!" My mouth continues the conversation in defiance.
"I'm so selfish- Not like my mom. Look at what she had to give up and live through, and she did."
Joyce- I mean, mom, never gave up anything! Hell, I practically got kicked out of the fucking house because she didn't give up on step-prick.
The entire world is spinning around me, my stomach jumps and twirls.
I focus all my efforts into saying something. I can sense my throat prep and my mouth on standby.
'No. Stop that.'
My mind blurs even more. I can sense a thousand needles poking and prodding my brain. I feel as if I were a passenger in my own body.
"She deserves so much more than to be killed in a fucking diner! Even… My stepfather deserves her alive. There's so many more people in Arcadia Bay who should live… Way more than me!" My voice is visceral. I notice my shoulders hang slightly. The muscles in my face are contracted to perfectly mimic the best pleading look I've ever mustered.
"Don't say that, I won't trade you!"
"You're not trading me. Maybe you've just been delaying my real destiny?" My voice wavers and breaks at just the right points. I sound so sad and afraid. "Look at how many times I've almost died, or actually died around you. Look at what's happened in Arcadia Bay ever since you first saved me. I know I've been selfish, but for once I think I should accept my fate. Our fate." The inflection is perfect. I don't think I've ever sounded so sincere in my life.
Fuck fate! And being selfish is the only thing that's kept me alive! This is so goddamn mental. Max, please don't listen to me.
"Chloe!" She sounds almost desperate as I feel.
'And now, to drive it home.' It's almost like a worm is wriggling inside my head.
"Max, you've finally come back to me this week, and you did nothing but show me your love and friendship. You made me smile and laugh like I haven't done in years. Where ever I end up after this, in whatever reality, all those moments between us where real, and they'll always be ours!"
I can feel some clarity in my head for the first time since this conversation began, I pounce on the opportunity.
"No matter what you choose, I know you'll make the right decision!"
'WHAT DID I TELL YOU?' The pin needles turn into daggers. My mind catches fire and I scream in agony within my own head.
"Chloe! I can't make this choice!"
"No Max… you're the only one that can" My body reaches out and grabs her by the shoulders.
We stare at each other for an eternity.
"Max... It's time."
…
"Not anymore."
She tears the photo in two, and sends it sailing into the wind.
'GODDAMNIT CHLOE YOU LAZY FUCK UP! This is your fault!' My head booms with a voice of pure hatred.
'You gave her a choice...' The tone changes instantly. It sounds… Sad? Defeated?
It sounds strangely like Max.
The voice sighs. 'I suppose I can see her reasoning, if nothing else...'
The few parts of my mind I still control spin around in circles. Do I have, like, that multiple personality thing? Is that something you can get out of the blue?
'Maybe I could find a way that doesn't end with you dying…' Max's voice muses.
Wonderful. I may, or may not, decide to throw myself off a bridge. At least I'm starting to think a bit more clearly.
The pain in my head begins to slowly subside, and the world stops spinning. The needles stop as feeling returning to me, and I become aware of my surroundings again.
"Max… I'll always be with you…"
It's certainly what I want to say. But I'm not sure if I'm the one who says it. I'm so exhausted and confused that the steps I take towards Max almost result in me falling over.
"Forever" is her reply.
She grabs my hand as we watch the storm progress.
...
Before long her head shakes and she hugs me, almost throwing me onto the ground. Her face is buried in my shoulder, leaving me to witness the storm.
The past ten minutes have been more stressful than this entire week combined.
The wind still howls angrily and the rain is a painful downpour. My heart sinks when I notice a plume of smoke coming from the area the Two Whales is in. I can't stop myself from staring as the cyclone makes landfall.
I watch a building collapse in on itself. Is this seriously what I wanted? A thousand people to die? Maybe my... Split personality... Thing... Was right. I mean, I'm certainly not worth a thousand people. A second building topples over.
No. No, I'm not doing this. Not right now. Not only am I on my last legs, but Max needs me to.
A car hurtles through the air and careens into someone's home. Who's Max? Oh, right. Max.
I can't help but find gentle amusement in how addled my own brain is.
Is this the same Max who skipped town on me the one time I needed her? The same Max who hasn't spoken to me once since we were kids? The same Max who threw me aside the moment I became an inconvenience?
This Max sure sounds like a real friend!
The funnel of the storm makes direct contact with a building, it disintegrates. My free hand instinctively makes a fist.
But it's okay! She's been in my life for a whole week and we've had some fun! Like me getting killed repeatedly! Or discovering my dead crush's body!
She'll never pull the same stunt she did before and leave me on my own all over again! She's not like everyone else!
Sarcasm. Real original, Chloe. I just need to calm down. If there ever was a time and a place to not get angry, it would be here and now.
I let out a shaky sigh as the hipster clings to me for dear life.
It feels like an eternity passes. With each ruined home and collapsed building I feel less and less. I can't tell if it's because I care too much and I'm burning myself out, or if it's because I just don't care about the people dying.
After all, why should I give a damn about them if they don't give a damn about me?
I grind my teeth and choke back tears. I need to focus on something else, or else I'm going to drive myself crazy. Probably even crazier than when I just tried to convince Max to kill me.
A drink! Oh, dear god I could use a drink. Even just one beer. Wouldn't mind having a six pack to myself though.
And a smoke! Just one good cigarette would be holy. An entire pack would be divine! Hell, even some weed could do a bit of good here. A grin snakes across my face as I visualize my fantasies.
I snap back to reality as lightning strikes nearby. I let out another shaky sigh.
I gently begin to untether Max from me.
"Max, I don't think we can stay here. If nothing else, we need to get out of this rain."
She nods her head and takes my hand, letting me lead.
I take a step and my legs immediately come out from under me, throwing me into the mud. I hear fabric tearing before a loud bang as my head smacks into a rock.
"FUCKING SON OF A-" Anger immediately takes hold, before I realise Max is crouching next to me, looking mortified.
Yet again I sigh, though at my own quick temper this time, and lack of ability to tell just how exhausted I am.
"Sorry, didn't mean to yell at you." It's difficult to get my voice above the screaming air and deafening roar of rain.
The muddy dirt melts into my pants and my hands get caked in it. There goes any hope of getting comfortable in the near future.
She doesn't say anything, but lets me help her back up after I get on my own two feet. I more firmly plant myself on the ground and make way for the bathroom building just behind us.
Getting in, I can still hear the violent gushes of wind and rain, but it's quieted to the point of where I can actually hear myself think.
I jump up and sit on the sink counter, while Max leans against a wall and grabs her arm. She stares at the ground.
I should probably say something to her, but there's a solid chance I'm even more of a wreck than she is right now.
I clean my hands on my already mud stained pants and and run them through my hair.
"Chloe!"
Before I can say anything, she runs up to me and examines the side of my head.
"Uh...?"
"You're bleeding."
I grunt in amusement. Yes, a giant world ending tornado is less important than a small cut on the side of my head.
… Ugh, I'm terrible.
"I'll be fine Max." I bat her hands away.
Turning around I look at the mirror. The figure staring back at me seems indifferent. Not angry or sad, just muddy and mildly inconvenienced. To Max's credit though, the 'cut' on the left of my head does look kind of bad. A deep red fissure starts at roughly the same height as my eye is and stretches upwards, disappearing into my hairline. It's oozing blood into my blue mop of hair, and my beanie.
Max turns around to and stares at herself. She seems dejected.
I notice that my left arm feels awfully wet. Looking down, I see a small stream of red leaking out from my sleeve, onto my hand and then the counter I'm leaning on.
Not wanting her to freak, I quick wipe away the small pool while she's distracted.
"Yo, I'm going try to clean myself up."
Max is too lost in thought to pay attention, not that there's much to be said.
Hiding away in a stall, I go to take off my coat. Moving too fast, a sharp pain shoot up my arm. Suppressing an instinctive curse, I move slower and more gingerly, paying special attention to my left arm this time.
My jacket's sleeve is drenched in still wet blood. Not to mention that it's shredded. Probably not a good sign. I look at my arm and see a shockingly large tear running from my elbow to my shoulder. My arm is hued crimson red.
"Shit. All this from a fucking slip in the mud?" I mumble to myself. The building strains and creaks under a huge gust of wind. Lightning strikes nearby.
I really hope this isn't as bad as it looks. Last thing I need is to do is get stitches and billed out of my ass for having some overpaid bastard stab me with a needle and thread. Fuck it, bet I could sow myself up better than some pretentious and alcoholic doctor.
I tear out half a roll of toilet paper and wipe my face down, and do what I can to get the bigger blotches of mud and blood out of my hair.
Hey, at least the easy stuff is done.
I carefully pat the gash on my head. There's not much I can do for it, other than try to not make it worse.
I turn my attention back to arm. I tepidly clean off the dirt and copious amount of dark red liquid. Getting a better look at it, it's a bit deeper than I was hoping.
Also, it hurts like a real bitch. Fuck.
I blink several times. Gotta to pep myself up. If not for the sake of Max, for myself.
Okay! So! Massive fissure running down my arm. Need to stop the bleeding. And not get infected. Sure! I've helped people with bad gouges and cuts- and dealt with my own in the past. I mean, it's not like I live the most level headed of lives.
…But I've never had anything this bad... And I've always had someone with me. And I've had some first aid supplies. Not to mention I'm stressed the fuck out and have to worry about Max going into panic mode again, or my alter-ego thing going completely insane and trying to kill me again.
They say one problem at a time, right? Yeah, probably something like that.
Right. I think I saw a first aid kit by the door when I walked in. Probably a few decades old, but it's a first aid kit nonetheless.
God I could use a smoke. My hand automatically feels at my back pocket, pretending that a pack may have just appeared from thin air. And wouldn't be completely water logged.
I get lost in my day dream before Max pulls me back to reality.
"You okay? You're really quiet…" She's as sheepish as ever. I'd almost call it cute if I wasn't on the brink of collapse from exhaustion.
"Yeah! Fine. Listen, you think the weather has died down yet?"
A loud crash as lightning strikes again. Some debris hits our sanctuary and makes a loud clanging noise. The one light still working flickers.
"…No? We've been in here for like five minutes…"
"Fair point."
Eh. Probably a bit sleazy to try and get Max to go outside so I can steal a first aid kit anyway.
Time for a new plan. I carefully put my torn jacket back on.
"Hey did you see a first aid kit here?" I walk out, tilting my bad arm away.
She knows about the comparatively minor one on my head, so it's the perfect excuse.
"Yeah, here."
"Wait, where you going?"
"Well, going by your reaction a minute ago, you have a thing with blood. Annnd I've got a few small cuts and scrapes." Mixing in a truth makes the lie more convincing. Learned that when I was a kid.
Feels a bit weird to use it on Max, though.
She actually seems kind of hurt. "No I don't." She grabs at her arm.
"Sure you don't. Plus, I have a thing with people seeing my own blood."
Back in the stall. Ruined jacket off.
"Sure you're okay?"
I can't help but let some exasperation drip into my response. "Fine."
Opening the kit, it's surprisingly well stocked. Maybe this won't be so bad. I mean, I'm still leaking blood like a shitty car and oil, and both are definitely going to scar, but the immediate crisis has been averted.
Fuck it, even the scars are a bonus. Scars are awesome. Score one for Chloe!
I wrap myself in gauze and add in some generic antibiotic.
Unsurprisingly, my little good news streak is cut down when there's another loud crash and the one working light finally dies.
"Ugh…!" I reach in my pocket for my phone. I grasp at one of two solid rectangular masses in it. Pulling it out, I realise my phone hasn't just been ruined, but snapped in half.
"Okay seriously, how the hell does this even happen!?" I shout as I walk out of the stall. While I can't see her face, Max's silhouette tenses up.
"Sorry- sorry. Not shouting at you, at everything else." Her pained expression lessens as I gesture around me.
"Can you use the light on your phone? Mine's… Not doing so hot."
"I- I thought I told you… My phone is cracked." She grabs her arm again and rubs it.
I roll my eyes in the blackness "Well… Hope you're not afraid of the dark."
I feel my way around and jump back up onto the sink counter. "We'll stay here until everything calms down."
There's no reply, but I can sense a nerve wracked stare hover over me as I drift off to sleep.
…..
"So, your father dies."
She pauses for effect.
"And when you need her to return some of the favours you've earned by standing up for her time and again, she just ups and moves off to Seattle?"
"Something like that." My reply is tired and somewhat angry, despite the mild high I have.
"Better yet, she doesn't call or text once. And she ignores all of yours?"
"…Yep." Smoke swirls out of my mouth as I crush out the very last of the joint.
"Now I don't mean to be rude or anything, but going off what you've said, this Max character sounds like a real prick." It's an innocent enough comment.
… But I can't stop myself from taking offense.
"So, I fucking tell you how I constantly stand up for her whenever someone was taking the piss. And then the first thing you fucking say is that she's a god damn prick?" I lean up out of my seat.
"C'mon, Blue. You know I didn't mean anything by it." She throws her hands up in a mock surrender as she gives a sly smile.
"Jesus, Rach. You're tough to stay mad at." I lean back and let out a small grin.
"Aww. I'm sure you say that to all the girls you bring back to your junkyard." Her smile grows wider and she bites her lip.
"Now Blue, I hope you know I'm normally not this easy..." Her voice lowers and her eyes gain a special glint when she gets up.
I can't help but get flustered and a pinch nervous. I'm always the one who teases and acts assertive, no matter who it is. That's probably why I like Rach so much- She's worse than I am. Probably also why I also feel so weird around her. The good kind, though.
I've known her for less than two weeks, but we've clicked together better than anyone since… Well, Max and me. Albeit that's not saying much, but Rachel's actually really cool.
"You know, I think getting thrown out of Blackhell is the best thing to happen to me? My rant at David was probably one of the highlights of my life. Bonus points for interrupting him when he was chewing you out, and us meeting for the first time." I try to steer the conversation to something a bit more comfortable for me.
"And if I recall rightly, I said I owe you one." She walks towards me.
I can feel my face turn red. I opt to remain silent to avoid putting my foot in my mouth, and keep what little dignity I have.
She straddles me and says, "You know, for a rebel punk rocker, you're pretty timid."
Her hands feel around as we make out. It's not exactly the first time I've made out with someone. It certainly wouldn't be the first time I've had sex either, not that we've gone that far yet. But something about her just makes me clumsy and uncoordinated.
Nothing's ever felt so right before. I'm happy.
…
"Chloe. Hey wake up."
Good bye wonderland. Hello nightmare.
My eyes slowly open to reveal Max in front of me.
I'm pretty sure that I was hit by a truck while I slept. Or, at least that's what it feels like.
"How long have I been out?"
She grabs and shakes her broken phone at me.
"Right… How long since the storm ended?" I say, taking note of the fact there's natural light shining through the windows. And also that the entire building isn't buckling under the weight of the wind and rain.
"About now. I've been up the whole time."
"Jesus how are you not exhausted?"
She gives a half-hearted smile, "Didn't say I wasn't."
I jump off my makeshift counter-bed, and quietly congratulate myself for not collapsing onto the floor. At least my energy is back.
I throw open the door with Max in tow. It takes a few seconds for my eyes to adjust to the light.
"Woah." The sun is shining down, and there aren't any clouds in the sky. A bird tweets noisily as a deer hides in the woods.
This is some kind of fucked up joke.
I loudly stomp through the puddles and mud, as Max opts to simply walk around them. The route back down to my truck has been washed away, and the two of us can't help but keep slipping and falling.
It actually starts to become funny, with Max and I laughing at each other's expense when we fall. It's kind of heart-warming to see she's still capable of laughing after all this. I was genuinely worried that this would majorly ruin her for life.
Unfortunately, on my fourth or fifth slip, I land on my bad left arm.
"GODDAMNIT YOU MOTHERFUCKING-!" I catch myself mid expletive.
She timidly runs over, as if she was afraid of me, "What's wrong?" If I didn't know better I'd say she feels that me falling was her fault.
"Nothing..."
I try to pull myself up using my left arm to dispel any suspicion, which results in me shouting "FUCK!" and falling back over.
Guess I can't hide anything from Caulfield, detective extraordinaire.
Her eyes resemble a deer in headlights.
"Ugh… I have a bad cut on my arm. That's all."
"Let me see."
"No, it's fine."
"You're not acting like it is."
I know when I'm beat. Max seems calmer than before, so maybe she won't freak.
I take off my jacket, but gingerly unhook my arm from the sleeve. At least the blood hides well in the black.
Max looks unnerved all over again. Guess rolling around in mud for half an hour doesn't dispel a lifetime's worth of anxiety.
I take a look over for myself. At some point it must've started bleeding again, seeing as the gauze is plastered in a dried black-ish red liquid.
"Yes, I know. If it's dirty it's doing the exact opposite of helping." I reach over to undo the wrapping.
"Promise you won't freak?"
"Chloe, I really don't have a problem with blood." I stare her down and tilt my head sceptically.
To her credit, the worst thing she does is cringe as I take it off. At least it hasn't started bleeding again because of my fall.
Taking stock of myself, my beanie does a good job of hiding the blood and mud stains just like my jacket, considering it's black as well. And my wife-beater has miraculously avoided damage from my constant inability to remain upright.
Looking at Max, she doesn't seem too dishevelled as well, with only her jeans having a few stains of dirt.
"See? Fine. NBD."
Max's silence seems to agree.
We step out into a clearing and find my truck.
I throw open and slam shut the door, Max is more delicate as she steps in.
"Moment of truth?" I say as I stick in the key and turn.
The engine sputters and coughs like an elderly pack-a-day smoker before coming back to life.
I turn to Max to congratulate myself but she's holding her knees. I guess she just remembered we need to drive through town to get out of it.
A quick search through my not-very-expansive repertoire of comforting words and phrases turns up nothing of use.
Instead, I just pull away and head for town.
Even before we leave the forest roads, I'm forced to dodge around debris and flipped cars.
Reaching the outskirts near Pan Estates, the area has been devastated. The few buildings still standing aren't buildings so much as ruins that are leaning on eachother for support.
I don't mean to torture Max by staying in town any longer than we need to, but I make the executive decision to stop by my house. I know what I'll find there, but I have to do it all the same.
When we get to my neighbourhood, we start to find bodies. I notice that I'm not really reacting to them. I'm actually somewhat stressed that I'm not stressed by seeing the body of the woman who lived next door to us, laying in the middle of the road.
Max is a different story however. The first corpse we pass, she hugs her legs a little tighter. Second, third, fourth and fifth, she despairs a little more each time.
We finally get to my house, and the scene is consistent with everything we've seen so far. A large and expensive pile of rubble.
My mind lazily drifts to distant memories as we slowly coast by it. When Max and I stole wine. When we used to play pirates. When Joyce introduced me to Step-prick. When I first parked my truck in the drive way. How… How Max acted so weird the day dad died?
Wait. Was that…? My head nearly screws off when I realise it probably was modern Max there and then. How else would she have stopped him from dying and create some kind of fucked up reality that never happened?
I notice that I'm practically strangling the steering wheel. I should probably leave whatever questions that come out of a seperate timeline-thing that never existed for later.
I push down on the gas. Our route out still takes us by the Two Whales, and I need to stop there anyway.
It seems like some people survived. A few of the bodies we pass have tarps and blankets put over them.
Dodge the billboard, drive around the flipped truck, avoid the street with a collapsed building covering the road.
The Two Whales is in ruins. The windows seem to have been blown out, and Frank's RV is crashed into the front door, blocking it off. I almost feel bad about shooting him in the leg. I know my Mom is dead. So is David. Hell, everyone I've ever known is well and truly dead, save Max.
She's changed her position from curled up in a ball to sprawled out, staring out the window.
I ease off the brakes and let the car drift off. Jesus, I suddenly have a headache.
The world acquires a very slight spin. Needles gently prod me.
Max says, 'I hope you appreciate all I'm doing for you.'
I incredulously turn to her. She better not have just fucking said that. You may have saved my life Caulfield, but no way in hell are you going to make me say thanks for Joyce dying. Uh, I mean my mom. And I know you didn't mean for this to happen. But chill the fuck out.
I look over and see her staring out the window.
Oh.
She meant it sarcastically. Where does a person buy a longer fuse?
I stop the car. Max can't keep railing against herself like this.
I lean over and rub her shoulder. She comes back to life and sits straight.
The car starts rolling again, and my temporary headache drifts off, "Try not to be too hard on yourself."
She sends off a half hearted smile my way.
The truck gains speed until we're driving normally again. Slowly, but surely, there's less and less debris as we leave more of the town behind us.
Ruined stores give way to houses again, before turning to forest.
A sign reads, "Another great day in Arcadia Bay! Thank-you come again!" A picture of a lighthouse and seagull adorn it.