Pairing: Max/Chloe (Pricefield, Time is Hella Cash)

Rating: T

Word Count: 1,295

Genre: Angst, Romance

Notes: Haha going to graduation sucks and kodiesleeps sucks too; prompt was, "just imagine Max finding Chloe on the ground covered in blood, after some accident. Chloe is near death and Max is holding her tight, not giving 2 shits if her clothes are stained with blood. Chloe telling Max that she loves her and will always be there, even if Max can't hear her voice. Max rewinding right before Chloe dies over and over and over again just to hear her voice one last time."

When she saw the first chunk of plywood fall, she knew they had to run. So they did, Max tightly grasping Chloe's hand in hers as she took off. She vaguely heard Chloe screeching over the crashing of metal and wood that this time it wasn't her fault. She wasn't focused on anything besides the way out of the warehouse and Chloe's hand in hers; however, that was probably the reason she didn't see the beam until it was too late.

"Max!" Chloe screamed, and then the photographer's body was falling, pushed away by Chloe just as a wooden beam, alive with fire, crashed down where she had been previously.

"Chloe! Shit, are you okay?" She scrambled to her feet, peering between the rising fires and recoiling when they flickered at her.

"I'm fine, Max," she heard Chloe reply, followed by a string of coughs. "Find the exit and get out! I'll find my own way out!"

Max raised her hand, ready to rewind when she stopped. "What? No! I'm not leaving you! I'm just going to rewind."

"Don't you dare! Just save your strength! I'm perfectly fine, promise," came the venomous reply. Max sighed, crushing her fingers into fist as she lowered her hand.

"Fine. But I'm trusting you!" She heard Chloe laugh, saw her cocky grin through the flames and let out a breath of relief. Then the delinquent was gone, looking for her own exit. Max did the same, turning and running to where she last remembered an exit.

It took a while; things continued to crash down around her and the smoke continued to thicken, clouding the air she was forced to breathe. If she hadn't had her power, she could've been severely injured or killed several times. But she was grateful Chloe had been okay; if she had used her power then, she wouldn't be as okay as she was now. Blood was already dripping from her nose and her head was pounding. She rewound again as something sparked at her, cringing when pain thumped in her head.

By the time she got to the exit (fifteen minutes, four dead ends later) she was covered in soot and ashes, head on the verge of exploding and face a mess of crimson blood. She gasped as she finally fell out of the exiting door, hungrily pumping in fresh air to her burnt lungs. She croaked out Chloe's name, weakly pushing herself away from the damp grass so she could look around her. When her eyes fell on the prone body of her best friend, she screamed, rapidly scurrying over to her limp form.

"Chloe, Chloe wake up," she cried, gently pulling the punk's head into her lap, playing with blue - now gray - strands of hair. She dragged her watery gaze over Chloe's body, narrowing in on the decent sized metal pole jutting out of her stomach like a flagpole. She gasped, biting her lip as tears poured from her eyes. "Chloe, please."

Blue eyes fluttered open, peering up at Max, and Max cried even harder. "Hey, hippie." Her voice was hoarse, soft and almost unheard. But it was still Chloe's voice, and that was all that mattered to Max.

"Chloe, what happened?" The delinquent reached her hand up, idly brushing tears from the photographer's face before she spoke.

"The debris I shoved you from launched a pole into me. It's always my abdomen, isn't it?" She tried to laugh, but it just turned into a raspy cough. Max hushed her, pulling her body into her lap so she could cradle her.

"Chloe, I'm going to go back, just hang on, okay?" She sniffled, raising her hand and feeling time distort as she rewound through it. She saw, in reverse, Chloe stumble from the door and collapse, hands clutching around the pole jutting from her body. She saw her disappear into the building backwards, and she kept going until she thought she was going to die. She scrambled to her feet, rushing into the burning building, down the path Chloe had taken. She ran, ran until she heard Chloe cursing and walking aimlessly.

"Chloe! We need to take you to the hospital, c'mon!" She called, grabbing the punk's hand. Though surprised, she followed, hand pressing against her stomach. Max didn't hesitate to dial 911 the moment she found her, giving the location and screaming that her best friend was dying, it was urgent. And then they were outside again, Chloe dropping to the ground with a moan.

"I think we both know how this ends, SuperMax." Despite her face twisted in pain, she grinned, turning her head to meet the photographer's face. "Looks like you can't play god for me anymore."

Max vigorously shook her head, a second round of tears gathering in her eyes. "I'm going to save you, Chloe. I'm going to go back again." She raised her hand, and again time rewound. But she couldn't go back far enough. Each time, she stopped just after Chloe was impaled. Each time, she saw Chloe's face twist in pain and annoyance, surprise and defeated. Each time, she immediately called 911 and dragged her from the building, and she time she ended up with Chloe in her lap, bleeding out into a pool of blood but smiling regardless.

"It's okay, I can fix this," she sobbed, hand weakly trembling as she raised it yet again, but Chloe stopped her, locking their fingers together.

"Max, no. You're losing almost as much blood as I am. We can't both die here, Mad Max. One of us has to find Rachel and help Kate." Max only shook her head, tears streaming down her ashen cheeks. "Max, can I tell you something?"

Max nodded, squeezing her eyes shut and gripping her hand tighter. "You can always tell me something, Chloe," she breathed, voice wet with tears.

"I love you, Max." She paused to cough, her whole body jolting as she did so. "I've loved since before you ditched out for five years, and I loved you even more when you came back. You saved my life, Max, and I'll never forget that. Oh, and I'll always be around even if you don't know it, and all that sappy shit." She smiled, tears starting to come to her eyes. Max couldn't remember the last time she cried. "I love you."

Max cried even harder, dropping her head to catch Chloe's cold lips in her own, felt them trembling under her own shaking ones. She pulled back in time to see Chloe grin one more time, and then the light faded from her eyes completely. Max wailed and curled her fingers in the dirty fabric of Chloe's trademark tank top.

She rewound. She rewound over and over just to hear those last three words, the same words she had been dying to hear for years, never to be said again. Each time her heart shattered even more until she was a blubbering mess of tears and blood.

"Chloe, please don't die," she sobbed, throat raw from screaming and crying. "You lied to me! You said you were fine! Don't do this to me!" She rewound, saw the light come back and leave, repeating in an endless cycle. She rewound until her vision blackened and she tasted iron. She rewound until she physically couldn't anymore, falling to her side as she clutched Chloe's still-warm body to her, head pounding and tears almost drowning her. The red and blue of the too-late ambulance cut into her vision, but she ignored it, just like she ignored the blood seeping into her clothes from Chloe's body. She rewound one last time, her vision fading completely as Chloe's last 'I love you' drifted through the air.

"I love you too, Chloe."