a/n: tfw it's been so long since you updated you completely forgot how to upload a new chapter

anyway, yeah, sorry about that. also, before the storm is (will be) awesome but establishing a pre-storm chloe canon is rly going to ruin any canon i make up about her past, but that's fine. it's just a fic.


"Do your parents know I'm coming?"

"Well, yeah, no shit. Why wouldn't they?"

Chloe stayed quiet for a beat. She wasn't about to admit to Max she was actively worried about her parents reception to the "new" Chloe. "Uh, no reason." She tried to keep her tone as casual as possible, but a shake in her voice failed her.

"Trust me, they like you."

"Hey, I didn't say they didn't." Chloe switched between radio stations, disjointed words and startling static polluting the otherwise calm air in the truck, Chloe's gaze switching between the radio and the road. "I fucking hate this song...this one, too. God, they all suck."

"Holy shit, can you just focus on the road?" Max's voice bled panic, swiping at Chloe's hand. Chloe withdrew her hand at the contact, briefly tensing it into a fist before resting it back on the steering wheel. "I didn't survive the fucking apocalypse just to die in a car wreck," Max said, an indication of hostility tainting her words.

"Sorry, sorry." Chloe's focus resumed to her driving, although a small portion of her concentration spared to keep her apprehensions at bay. "Although, if you thought that was the apocalypse, you're going to be in for a real treat when it does really happen." Another beat of silence, Max falling back into her seat and crossing her arms in protest of whatever angst was infecting her now. "Hey. You all right?"

"Hella fuckin' peachy," Max replied, emphasizing her swearing. She pushed her seat back, kicking her shoes onto the already-dirtied dashboard of the car. Max was taking Chloe's suggestion to "make herself at home" a little too seriously. The normally respectful prodigy kid, "the poster child for senseless nasty ass-kissing" as Chloe had put it once, seemed to be rebelling against the polite morals she normally followed.

"I mean, your parents..." Screw it, Max was trustworthy, and Max was too far in with her to judge any self-doubt Chloe was harboring. "Uh, but I mean, I've changed quite a fuckin' lot in the past...what, six years? Jesus, I mean you remember me at that age," she said.

Max straightened her body out a bit, the slight scowl on her face fading as if her mood switched in response to her friend's anxiety. "Yeah, trust me. They'll love you just as much as they did all those years ago."

"All right. If you say so." Somehow, Chloe trusted Max, despite the insecurities feeding her doubts. Max's parents were two of the nicest people she's ever had the pleasure of meeting, setting up sleepovers and outings for the two during the span of their childhood and even encouraging Max's friendship with her. But Chloe's brain had the habit of formulating worst-case scenarios in almost every facet of life, even in spite of previous experience, so the worrying thought still gnawed her subconscious, providing an annoying dullness rather than a painful distraction.

"I have to be honest, though. It's kinda cute how worried you are about this." Max's comment severed Chloe's thoughts and aroused an odd elation within her.

"Cute? What the—what about this is cute?" Chloe kept her head as straight forward as she could, hiding the red tinting her cheeks. She yearned so bad to see the expression on Max's face, but couldn't risk the vulnerability of Max discovering hidden feelings Chloe held.

"You, just, uh...I don't know. You never seemed like the type to give a crap what other people think about you. I mean, that's not a bad thing. I like it about you."

"Oh. Yeah, well, if I'm going to be spending—God knows how long with someone, I wanna make sure they don't hate me."

"They don't." Max's tone bordered annoyance.

"I know." Max said nothing. "But, I mean, I do care about what people think about me. Like, a whole fucking lot. So...uh, don't think I don't."

Chloe accepted the silence that followed in a vague hope that Max would say something, but she didn't, and Chloe had the sense to leave the quiet air undisturbed during the next small leg of their travel. They had planned to sleep in the truck, but being so close to Max's house, the girls theorized that if they drove straight for just a few more hours, they'd reach their destination and sleep like queens in a bounty of comfort instead of the subpar conditions offered in Chloe's truck, only marginally surpassed by a one-star motel where bed bugs and cockroaches extended companionship in broken beds.

Chloe had processed enough thoughts in the silent hours that passed, only occasionally punctuated by superficial conversation between the duo that achieved nothing beyond banter. Both girls' psyches had taken a beating too severe to recover from in such a short amount of time, their minds toiling over the recent events and the uncertain future approaching, twisting their emotions like rapid growing vines. Chloe needed substance, she needed meaningful conversation or anything to pry her away from the dark crevices her thoughts had seeped into, staining her brain with regret and panic. Was it really her fault so many people were presumed dead? Was her life really worth the destruction of a beloved community? She did her best to keep her trepidation where it belonged, clamoring at the recessed folds of her brain when her focus was needed elsewhere, but the stray twinge of panic shot to the front of her thoughts, jolting her with tweaks of adrenaline in a symbiotic display of her own anxiety keeping her from falling asleep at the wheel—at least, for a while.

But as hours passed, Max fell asleep, and Chloe envied that. Her eyelids were now winning a subconscious war, growing heavier until they pulled down in front of her eyes in weaker moments. She hadn't noticed how much time had passed until the first few slivers of dawn breached the treetops and painted the sky a subdued blue.

"Max, I can't fucking do this. I can't drive like this. I'm going to pass out on this steering wheel and we're going to die a horrible, screaming death."

"That's okay," Max mumbled, eyes still shut.

"Wake up, asshole." Chloe jabbed Max's shoulder with her elbow. "Seriously."

"What? What?" Max jostled awake. "Ugh. I finally fell asleep."

"Yeah, sorry to wake you up from your beauty rest, but I'm not going to last five more minutes being conscious."

"Well, let's find some place to sleep then, or something," Max suggested, throwing her head back.

"Yeah? Like where? The Radisson over there? Or how about that Holiday Inn on the left?" Chloe asked, pointing to the thicket of trees crowding the road, no signs of civilizations in sight.

"All right, all right, I get it. Do you want me to drive or something?"

"No. I trust you about as much as I trust myself." Chloe pulled the car over to the side of the road, sighing heavily once she turned off the ignition. The sounds of zealous, sex-starved insects was now abundant, sliding through the small gaps of the windows. Stray leaves started to litter the windshield of Chloe's truck as wind slicked its fingers through the treetops. "Christ. How close are we to your parents'?"

"Literally less than hour away." Max shifted in her seat, fighting the desire to fall back asleep.

"So you thought you would sleep and I'd somehow magically know how to drive to their house?"

Max sighed. Agitation possessed her posture and the grimace on her face. "No. I don't know. I'm sorry."

Chloe nodded gently. "Dude, I'm kind of freaking out." Her voice remained calm, contrasted to the sentiment she shared. The following seconds of brief silence were phantom thumps against her temple, hoping Max's silence was born of mutual fear rather than disinterest in engaging with Chloe.

"Me too."

Chloe was a little surprised with Max's agreement, maintaining her posture and expression so Max couldn't read her relief. "I've never been so scared in my life. And it's a weird kind of scared, like I don't feel—I don't feel impending doom or anything. It's just this—I don't know. And sometimes I feel fine, like we did what we could, but sometimes—like now—I just—"

"I—yeah, I know what you're talking about. But, let's not focus on it, all right?" Max's voice carried a scent of anxiety. "What's done is done, and, and I just want to get home and at least know we have a place to live before dissecting the past few days."

"Okay. Yeah, that makes sense." Chloe fell back into her seat. Max's words brought little comfort, but Chloe didn't have the energy to debate her. Plus, if Max was as troubled as her posture and snaps were hinting at, perhaps feeding her with Chloe's growing apprehension wasn't the smartest decision. "So, do you wanna sleep in the truck?" she asked, attempting to dismantle the awkwardness that now hung in the air.

"No, I'd rather sleep at that Radisson over there." Finally, Chloe saw a smile.

"Yeah, I bet they have super comfy beds. And like, those ten-thousand thread count Egyptian sheets, handcrafted by only the finest, blind nuns."

"And free room service."

"Oh my God, yes. And really nasty shit on TV. For the finest businessmen."

"Gross."

"Like, the most fucked up—"

"And bear repellent," Max interrupted.

"Oh shit, I think we're out."

"That's a shame."

"Yeah, I could really go for a bottle of bear repellent right now."

"Do you think bears stay at the Radisson? Or are they more the Holiday Inn type?"

"Oh, Raidsson for sure," Chloe said, as though she had extended knowledge on the subject of bear lodging. "Bears love fancy shit. Fancy fuckin' bears, they're everywhere."

"Oh my God, what are we even saying anymore?" Max said, following her question with a laugh.

"God, I don't even know. I'm so tired I can't even think straight."

"Well, let's just call it a night and sleep."

Chloe nodded, then hesitated for a tentative moment, biting the side of her lip. An idea volleying around her head for the past few hours didn't seem so trivial anymore. "Hey," she said, reaching for the door. "Stay here a sec."

"Okay, well I really wasn't planning on going—"

Chloe exited her truck before hearing the rest of Max's sentence, walking over to the back. Opening the hatch, using the limited light available provided by a nearby street light, she inspected the mess in the bed of the truck—old clothes, blankets, inexplicable animal hair—then climbed in, rearranging the clutter until it was acceptably "clean" enough for two people to lounge comfortably.

"Max," she called out. "Max!" she repeated after her call was met with silence.

"What?" Max said, opening her car door.

"Come over here." Chloe settled into the truck bed, using a blanket to cushion her body.

"What are you doing?"

"What does it look like I'm doing? I'm taking the Bar exam. I think I really got it this time."

"All right, smartass." Max got out from the passenger side and walked over to the back, her expression switching to a marriage of disappointment and bewilderment once she saw Chloe lounging in the haphazard nest of junk in the truck bed. "Oh."

"Oh?" Chloe repeated, reading Max's face. "It's fucking comfy. Get up here."

Max climbed up, her expression offering hesitance, Chloe offering her hand to help her up.

"It smells kind of weird here," Max observed, inviting herself next to Chloe in a makeshift nest of piled blankets.

"Are you sure that's my truck and not the great outdoors?" Chloe patted her pockets, only now realizing she was out of cigarettes. "Fuck." Perhaps she could use this an opportunity to quit—what were the chances Max's parents would allow her to smoke in the house, anyway?—but realistically, Chloe saw that as a battle she would, once again, lose in humiliating defeat.

"I'm pretty sure. Unless the great outdoors smells like stale cigarettes and beef jerky."

"That's fucking weird, because I don't eat beef jerky."

"Yeah, but you smell like it. Jerky...face."

"'Jerky-face?'" Chloe laughed. "Fuck, you really need some sleep, your brain's fried."

Max groaned, although with a smirk. "I was having a wonderful sleep until you woke me up."

"I guess it's sleeping in the truck tonight for us, because I called the Raddison and they're all booked up."

"Wait, wait, we're not sleeping here, right?" Max's body perked, her eyes telling a story of panic. "Because I don't want to wake up having my guts eaten by a coyote or—"

"You really think coyotes eat humans?"

"Bears, man. Bears. They do."

"What's with your fixation on bears? And being eaten by them? Anyway, no. We're not sleeping here. Calm your tits." Chloe swore she saw Max briefly glancing down at her chest. "I just needed some fresh air and...I don't know, a break. After a little while, maybe after it gets darker, we'll sleep inside the truck."

"Yeah...actually, it's kinda nice. If I weren't so afraid of mutant human-eating coyotes, I'd probably fall asleep here."

Max's head rested on Chloe's shoulder. A gesture of affection as menial as a simple head resting on her shoulder sufficed in boosting her heart rate, almost alarmingly so, and Chloe daringly returned the act with an arm around Max. Max didn't challenge it, which brought great exhilaration within Chloe's fragile heart. The silence was accepted with contented expressions and soft breaths, the sky's gradient gradually disappearing into the calming daylight.

"Promise me you won't let me fall asleep here," Max said, shifting in her place and pulling herself closer into Chloe.

"I promise."