One moment I'm sitting in an unknown car in an unknown place, clutching Chloe's hand like it's the only thing keeping me from drowning.
The next moment her lips are locked with mine. Her body wraps me up in its warmth, her arms pressing me close with desperation. I'm sinking into Chloe, breathing her all around me.
It's startling, but not in a million years would I call it "unpleasant".
She must have sensed my surprise, because she half-heartedly pulls away. Her cheeks are streaked with tears. I don't need a mirror to know that so are mine.
Chloe searches my eyes. "Max?"
"It's...me. The other me."
"Okay." She lets go somewhat awkwardly. "Sorry. We started and...couldn't stop."
"It's, uh...it's okay."
The way she tastes lingers on my tongue. It brings memories of another time, another kiss shared in a moment of despair.
I don't know what she sees in my face, but she turns away like the sight is too much to bear. I'm leaning against the silvery hood of a car, probably the same car we were just in. There are benches ahead, a railing and sparse trees. Beyond the railing is the morning view of a gently sloping valley and a small town nearby. No idea where we might be.
Her back still turned, Chloe takes a deep, tremulous breath.
"Here." She faces me and gives me a phone, headphones wrapped around it. "It's your phone. You just got done recording this, listen to it. I...I need a moment alone right now."
She walks up to the railing and leans over, hugging herself. Though she remains quiet, her shoulders are shaking.
Swallowing hard, I put an earbud on and tap the phone's screen. It goes directly to the recording app and displays a just-recorded message.
Play.
After a few seconds my own voice comes through, damp and raw.
"Hi, Max. It's me, Max from the past. Yep, five months in and time travel is still weird as fuck.
"So...I'm about to go away. I've struggled with that, you know? I wish I could say not anymore, but it's still scary. Some time real soon, this person I've become will disappear. I keep telling myself that it's not really dying, but..."
Sniffling. A small chuckle. "Talk about depressing. I need to shut up, I know you already feel like ass. I'm thankful for what you did, and this is the price we pay. Besides...some of my memories are better left forgotten.
"I'm recording this to give you a few quick pointers. The details are in the journal, so be sure to read it as soon as you can.
"So...I don't know how things went down for you, but it's been rough on this end. Leaving the powers behind wasn't an option. I've done some questionable things I didn't think I'd ever do, and you'll learn stuff about yourself that might scare you. But please believe me: it's all necessary. It's all for the better. This is how it needs to be, because the alternatives are way more awful.
"I don't know how many skills you'll retain when you take over. Maybe you had to fend for yourself in the apocalypse and you're even better, who knows. Anyway, here goes: you're a decent shot but not stellar. You're kinda shit at hand-to-hand and a clutzy mess, totally hopeless—but the time powers make up for it. You can soft-rewind for a good three to four hours now, super fast, super slow, however you like, just keep practicing and pushing the limits. Uh, sorry: I call it 'soft-rewind' when you remain in place, and 'hard-rewind' when you literally turn everything back to the same spot you were at. Like going back to class the very first time, remember? It's happened again a few times. I haven't figured out how to control it yet, but it has to be possible.
"Other than that, you can move while rewinding for a while, which is still rough as hell but insanely useful. There's lots of room for improvement there. Strange enough, you can't slow time going forward at all. And then there's the visions, which can be a huge problem if you're in the middle of doing something important. They just happen, don't know when, don't know why. Sometimes it's just a flash, sometimes they'll take you down cold. As far as I know whatever you see can't be changed, so prepare for it instead. It would help a lot if at least they didn't hurt like a bitch.
"Speaking of pain, migraines happen often but nosebleeds and fainting not so much anymore, only if you really overdo it. Just make sure Chloe is around when you train. Tough to work out the time logistics, but you'll manage. She's used to it by now.
"Chloe and I...well, we're a couple. Like, real serious couple, hopelessly in love. So she's gonna have a hard time adjusting, I imagine. Don't take it personal, okay? She loves you so much, I...I can't even explain—"
The voice breaks. Sniffling, heavy breathing. "I know you'll feel the same way eventually. I can promise that you won't regret it."
"I'm gonna be so pissed if you forget you're gay for me, Caulfield."
"Oh my god, get back to your corner, donkey ears! This is supposed to be private."
"Fine, fine..."
"Jesus.
"Listen...whatever you do, treat her right, okay? She's...doing better now. She's on meds, anti-depressants, make sure she takes them. I started too but stopped because they mess with the time powers for some reason. It's been...it's been real bad, major PTSD and all that. We'd have lost it without each other. She's put up with enough of my bullshit, don't you fucking hurt her now, okay?
"God, what am I saying. You're me. You'll be fawning all over her, just like I can't help myself.
"By the way...because of our power, you'll be tempted to keep secrets from her—to protect her, to avoid an argument, whatever. Just don't bother. News flash: we're terrible liars around Chloe, and she's onto us. She can tell every time—and I mean that, every damn time, I swear. So be real with her, share the burden, tell her everything. You'll be glad you did, and she can handle it.
"Anyway, whatever the stupid magical tornado was, it seems like it was a one-time thing. I've twisted reality into a pretzel these past few months and nothing's happened. I have no damn clue why Arcadia Bay had to be destroyed. Either it was all about Chloe dying in that filthy bathroom for some reason, or it didn't have anything to do with me after all.
"I'll warn you, though...get used to seeing weird shit. More and more these powers show me that there's this whole world within our world that simply can't be explained by any means. It pisses me off."
A stretch of silence. A deep sigh.
"There is so much more. I started talking about Sean Fucking Prescott and had to rewind all of it, it was taking too long. I can't do it justice here, anyway. Just read the journal, I spared no details about the awful shit he's done to us because I knew you'd be reading it eventually, and I want you motivated.
"I've done everything I could. I'm gonna go kiss my girlfriend some more now. Feel free to keep at it when I'm gone.
"Oh yeah, Chloe said you were wondering about the gun. Don't worry, we're the good guys. Kind of. And yes, you have killed people with it. There are no regrets.
"You'll just have to deal with it. I know you can, because I have.
"Don't let us down, Max Caulfield."
The voice goes quiet. The recording stops.
"Wowser."
Chloe turns to look at me. She seems calmer now. "Damn girl, you still say that?"
"Pretty appropriate for the situation, don't you think?"
"Yeah, no kidding. It's real heavy stuff."
"Did you listen to it?"
"Just a bit, 'til you shooed me away. You done?"
I nod. "I've killed people?"
"Wow, she told you that right away." Chloe leans back on the railing and crosses her arms. "Yeah. We both have. Otherwise we'd be worse than dead."
"You too?"
Chloe shrugs a shoulder. She doesn't seem proud of it, but neither does she seem repentant. She's just stating facts.
"Who? What's happening?"
"Prescott goons. There's some serious shit going down, Max. Way bigger than Arcadia Bay. We were about to end it when you showed up."
"End it? End it how?"
"How do you think? We tracked down the bastard and you were getting past security. You're an unstoppable assassin, girlfriend."
I blink at her. "Holy shit, Chloe."
"Yeah, like I said...heavy stuff. Take as long as you need."
I lean back against the car. This is a bit much. We're...killers? Fugitives? Outlaws for sure. It's as if getting Chloe back created our own private post-apocalypse. Is this truly the only life she can have? Is this all I can give her, "miserable death" or "kill to survive"?
As I stare into my hand wondering how much pain I might have caused her so far, Chloe walks around to the back seat door and rummages through her junk. Our junk, I should say. She comes over and hands me a plain black notebook. After what I've seen of this reality, I half-expect "Death Note" to be inscribed on the thing.
"Your journal isn't nearly as colorful these days. You basically wrote it as a guide for the new you. Or the old you, or...fuck, you know what I mean."
I numbly flip through it. About three-fourths full. There are some photos, hardly any drawings, and loads of handwriting.
"It'll take a while to read all this," I tell her.
"Pfft, no it won't."
"What do you mean?"
"You can read it in an instant, dummy. As far as I can tell from this side, anyway."
"Oh. Right. Time powers, d'uh."
She gently closes the notebook while it's still in my hands. Her fingers linger on mine. "Don't do it now, though. Information overload and all that. She said there's some gruesome shit in there, and you look rattled enough already."
"You haven't read it?"
"And incur the wrath of Mighty Max? I don't think so."
"Huh. She just got done telling me to share everything with you."
"Yeah. I trust you to do that, and you trust me not to read your personal diary. Makes sense, doesn't it?" She gives me a fond smile and a nudge toward the passenger side. "Come on, get in. You can ask me whatever you like while we drive back to TimeWarp HQ. Or...you can keep sorting out your thoughts in silence, whatever you want. Like I said..." the smile turns cheeky. "Take your time."
"You don't ever get tired of the puns, do you."
"Nnnope. And you know you love 'em. Partners in crime, Super Max." She puts up her hand for a high-five.
"Groooan."
"Come on, say it, don't leave me hangin'..."
I roll my eyes and give her hand a half-hearted smack. "Partners in time, you dork."
"Always and forever. Let's go."
We get into the tiny Nissan Something. Wonder what happened to her old junker. Probably abandoned on the side of the road after it exhaled its last sputtering, soot-spewing breath.
She cradles her phone into the car's sound system and navigates through menus for a moment. "There, for old times' sake."
Music comes on, quiet enough for us to still have a conversation over it. I never knew the name of the song, but it vividly paints the memory in my head like it happened yesterday: Chloe dancing on her bed, puffing on her joint, telling me to shake my bony white ass. It makes me grin like I'm standing in her room again.
"Love to see that smile," see says. The way she's looking at me...it's like a portrait for the word "tender".
I have to look away. My cheeks feel really hot all of a sudden.
She starts laughing. "Haven't seen that in forever, you're the cutest thing! Shit, man, I need to dial it back though. I don't wanna be creepy." Chloe starts the engine and gets the car going. Yikes, manual transmission. "Don't ever rewind while in a moving car, by the way. You'll end up with your butt flat on the middle of the road."
"I'm sure there's a hilarious story somewhere in there."
"Naah, not really. We tested a lot of things. For science, right? Didn't stop me from laughing my ass off as I drove up to you and picked you up."
"You're well known for your empathy. Now I'm curious, what else did you test?"
"Well, let's see. It's not just moving cars. It's like rewinding locks you out of normal space or something, taking away whatever momentum you had—or rather, it's somehow anchoring you to the Earth's own movement so you don't shoot into orbit, we've guessed. So if you throw yourself off a building, and rewind at the last moment...you're basically Batman, is what I'm saying."
"Are you serious? I jumped off a building to test this?"
"Uh. Not...right away? First, you know, a tall ledge, then the top of a bus, then a tree...baby steps. Baby steps right off a cliff, hah. You've described it as sinking into a pool of jell-o, like the air thickens around you and holds you up. All I see is you at the top, then you a foot from the floor, hopping down to ground level without a scratch. Sometimes there's this weird ghost afterimage in-between, depending on how short you make the rewind. Freaky as hell."
"That's...wow."
I hadn't known this before jumping off the lighthouse, and yet I did it anyway. I'd been counting on a "hard-rewind," to put it in BetaMax's terminology—which apparently is a rare and as-yet uncontrollable occurrence.
Let's not think about it too much. Otherwise I might decide I'm fucking insane.
"Now I'm afraid to ask what else you tested."
"Knowledge is power, though! Here are some other fun facts: the limit to how much stuff you can carry with you through time is complicated, but 'half your weight' is a good rule of thumb. More than that and it stays behind. You can't rewind past any time you were unconscious. Not yet, anyway. Also, you don't have to actually reach out with your hand like a doofus, that's just something you do for some reason, like when Jedi wave a hand for mind-control. Mmmm..." She taps her lips with a finger as she steers with her other hand. It seems we are heading away from the town. "Say you tear up your shirt. It won't mend if you're wearing it, but take it off and you'll watch it fix itself. Oh, here's something pretty important: you don't heal by rewinding. You stay tired, you stay hurt, and you stay dirty."
"That sounds like I ran into trouble at some point..."
"Understatement of the year. There's been real close calls, Max. I'm talking 'freeze bullets in mid-air' close. Let's just say there's a good reason why you carry failsafe photos anywhere you go."
"Freeze bullets in mid-air, though? That's pretty damn cool."
"Yeah, okay, Neo. Sorry to break it to you but you're not The One."
I make an eloquent gesture with my phone. "Don't worry, she already told me I'll never be a kung-fu master."
"I'm serious, though. You've been hurt pretty bad. You can totally get killed outright if caught by surprise, and you can't photojump away if you're dead."
"Okay, okay, I get it..."
"Speaking of..." she checks her phone. "It's been fifteen minutes since you showed up. How ya feeling? Is your head okay?"
"Y-yeah, I'm alright. Why?"
"Huh. You often get migraines a while after. Sometimes you'll even pass out."
"Wow. Awesome. Looking forward to that."
She smiles to herself. "You hate photojumping."
"What a shocker. Man, sounds like we've been super busy."
She looks at me. There's that playful twinkle again. "You don't know the first of it, girlfriend." She wags her eyebrows, a suggestive grin in place.
She really can't help herself, can she? Well, I can play the game too.
"Oh yeah? Did you maybe chicken out again after I took you up on another dare?"
"Oh for fuck's sake, none of you will let me live that down! You caught me totally off-guard, I didn't know what to do..."
"You talk a big game, 'girlfriend', but from my end it seems I always make the first move."
I thought she'd bullshit right back at me, but Chloe goes quiet and thoughtful for a moment.
"It's true, you know," she finally says. "You've made the first move every time. I have plenty of chances, but I think about getting rejected and freak out." She gives me a side-long glance, but doesn't meet my eyes for long. "And now it's even worse, because you know how I feel about you. Like...you know how fucking desperate in love I am, and if I try anything it's like I'm pressuring you, and I don't want that. It would suck for you to feel that...you know, that you have to. So here I am with an amnesiac girlfriend and a huge girl-boner and oh god shut up, Chloe, you're making it so much worse."
I was starting to feel bad, but I can't help but laugh. "You were so right earlier. This is really weird."
"I know! Fucking time travel, man."
Her hand is on the stick. I cover it with mine. "Chloe...I wouldn't worry too much about it. I spent all this time wishing I could be with you. And now I got my wish, so I don't plan to ever leave your side again."
She beams at me and quickly restrains it, like self-conscious of her reaction. "That's awesome. It makes me stupid happy to hear that, you don't even know."
Chloe, demure and bashful. I never thought I'd see the day.
"Would you maybe say it's...hella awesome?"
She bursts out laughing. "Oh, dude, blast from the past. We kind of phased out 'hella' without even trying. It ran its course pretty fast."
"Hella fast?"
"Yup, there it goes, already got old."
"Haha, I'm glad, to be honest. Rest in peace, 'hella'. We hardly knew ye."
"Amen."
We glide into a comfortable silence, just watching the increasingly winding road for a while. The playlist has moved on to other songs I don't recognize; a bit heavier on distortion than I'm usually into, but not anything I'd frown at. I simply let it sink in some more: Chloe is sitting next to me. She was dead, but now she is not. And holy shit, desperately in love—her words. I guess I don't have to worry about rejection any time soon.
There are far more trees around us now. Wherever we're going, it seems pretty remote. I should ask about it—I should ask about a hundred other things, really—but I'd rather put to rest the nagging concern at the back of my head.
"So...Mean Max, huh?"
She cringes a bit. "It started as Main Max. It morphed, somehow."
"Somehow."
"Hey, you sounded pretty mean in the note, and you did sacrifice my ass, so...Mean Max."
The words make a clump at the pit of my stomach. She must have noticed a change in my expression, because she reaches over and gives my leg a quick shake, like trying to jolt me out of a bad dream. "Shit. I was joking, you joke about that. Ha-ha, should have sacrificed your sorry butt, you know? That's how we cope, I guess."
I shake my head. "I'm sorry, I've just...I've relived it over and over in my head for so long. It was unbearable, Chloe. I couldn't live with what I did to you."
"Whoa, hey, you didn't do anything, okay? I asked you to go back. It was wrong to saddle you with such a horrible choice. We talked about it later; you could totally see why future-you would leave that note. You told me how remorse would tear you up inside, little by little. How you'd try and try but never get over losing me. It was depressing to think about, but...it sure boosted my ego."
I huff out a mirthless chuckle. "BetaMax sounds way smarter than I was. For a while I really thought I could cope, but..."
"You are exactly the same person, dumb-ass. She simply had time to think about it, instead of being forced into an impossible decision like you."
"Having time to think makes it even worse, Chloe. There was nothing impulsive about it. In the end I decided to knowingly destroy everything just so I could be here."
"Bullshit, you didn't destroy a damn thing."
"How can you say that? How are you not disgusted with me right now?"
"Oh, please, it's not like you set off a bomb in the middle of town. Some insane powers got dumped on your lap, you tried to do the right thing at every turn and then a fucking tornado destroyed everything, not you. And even if you had, so what? I'd have done the same thing. I'd let whole cities burn to the ground to save you, I wouldn't even care how you felt about it. What kind of a hypocrite would I be to get mad at you now? Yeah, nobody's worth so many lives, I know that—but that's never been the point. We are worth it all to each other. And that's all that matters to me."
Though firm and full of conviction, her voice remains calm throughout. Every word in its place, every bit of emphasis on the proper word. A well thought-out argument.
"We've had this conversation before, haven't we."
She gives me a complicit look, like we're both in on the same grand con. "Not word for word, but...we had to come to terms with things, you know? We couldn't just zombie forward and let guilt tear us apart." She shrugs. "So we talked about stuff. A lot of stuff, let it all out, no shame, no judgments. And in the end it turned out...even with all the awful death and destruction, I was happy that you chose me, and so were you. Might be ugly and selfish, but it's also fucking amazing to have each other. So, no, I've no desire to yell at you."
I stay silent for a moment, looking out the window. As I think about what she's saying, some of the weight lifts off my shoulders. I threw hundreds of lives off a cliff just to be with her. That is who I really am...and she is okay with it.
Max Caulfield, get over yourself already. You are not the first couple in history willing to kill for one another, and you will not be the last.
I catch a glimpse of a doe as the car makes a left onto a wide dirt road. We make eye contact before it runs deeper into the woods, and then it's gone.
"Hey." Her hand is on my shoulder. Her eyes alternate between the road and me. "We're nearly there. I don't blame you, okay? Stop beating yourself up."
I touch her hand and try to smile reassuringly. "I'll be okay, I promise."
"You better, or I'll have to make you take my happy pills for a while, time powers be damned."
"Hah." I gesture with the phone again. "She said to make sure you take them."
"Yeah, you're such a bitch about it."
"How is...I mean...do you want to talk about that?"
"Not much to talk about, really. It helps me keep it together and not fly off the handle at the stupidest things. There's no shame in it. At least one of us should be somewhat sane."
"You're the sane one? That's scary."
"Bite my shiny metal ass. To be honest I probably could've used a prescription even before all this fucked up shit went down. Mom always wanted to get me into therapy too, but...you know how much of an asshole I was to her. Rather get baked and feel sorry for myself. I was such an idiot."
"That's harsh, Chloe. You had to deal with a lot. It takes time."
"Well, at least time's on our side now, right?"
"Okay, now you're trying too hard. That one didn't even make sense."
"Everyone's a critic. Eyes ahead, my Drama Queen. Behold your domain!"
The trees part to reveal a small clearing. I expected some kind of cabin in the woods, but parked out of sight of the main road is a huge Greyhound bus, except with much fewer windows. It's painted two shades of dark blue with the usual logo in the middle, and every glass pane that remains is tinted black and highly reflective.
I give her a side-long look. "A bus?"
"It sure looks like a plain ol' bus, doesn't it?"
"That thing is ours? How'd you even drive it up here?"
She parks the car next to the monster. From where I'm sitting, it towers out of sight above me.
"Mad skills, that's how. C'mon, let's go inside. You'll see."
We get out and with a suspicious eyebrow arched I follow her to the entrance at the front. She presses a fob in her keychain and the door swooshes open like we're in friggin' Star Trek.
Chloe turns and bows flamboyantly, gesturing at the entryway. "After you, your Grace."
"You're such goon..."
Not quite knowing what to expect I go up the steps into the driver's cabin. One look inside and I have to stop for a moment.
"Whoa."
Chloe climbs up behind me. "Actually, I think this one deserves a full-fledged, fully loaded 'wowsers.'"
"This is...it's..."
It is, for one, way beyond our means. There is no way in a thousand years we could afford the leather couches, marble counters, kitchen sinks (two of them), stove, oven, a gigantic HD TV...the list is long enough to make me dizzy. Past a doorway I glimpse a standing mirror and a bed so big I'm beginning to think this "bus" might transcend the laws of physics altogether. This thing is to Frank's old RV what a posh mansion is to Chloe's junkyard hideout.
"Chloe, this is nuts."
"Wait 'til you use the shower, you'll melt into a puddle."
"This is crazy expensive! Who the hell paid for it?"
She gives me a flat look. "Are you honestly asking me this question?"
"We stole it?"
"What? No, no no no. Legally purchased, registered, custom-painted, all legit—well, except with an alias."
"Then..."
"Rewind powers. Online stock trading. You do the math."
"Are you serious?"
"As serious as our multiple bank accounts. We are the one percent, baby."
I step further in. It's like entering an ad for retirees, with all the white leather and appliances and oh-so shiny tile. It doesn't look very lived in. Folded clothes next to a messy laundry basket, bit of clutter in and around the sinks, half-empty bag of chips and a crumpled beany on the TV couch, a sweater thrown over the armrest and fast food trash on a nearby table...either we don't spend a ton of time here, or I've done a good job so far curbing Chloe's chaotic ways. Not that you can leave a lot of stuff lying around inside an RV, if you have to be on the move often.
I turn to Chloe. For some reason my head is starting to really hurt. "Okay, I think it's about time you told me what's going on. I'll be honest, I'd imagined we'd be trying to put a life together in Seattle or something like that, not living large somewhere in the woods, doing missions and assassinating people."
"Yeah. This wasn't the original plan, that's for sure." She takes a closer look at me. "You're getting pale. Are you feeling alright?"
"Just a headache, I'll be fine..."
She's immediately by my side, gently pushing me to the couch. "Fat chance it's just a headache. That was a five month jump, Timelord. Come on, just lean back for a while."
"But I did five years without...unngh." The pain escalates quickly. Suddenly there's a white blotch in the middle of my vision, and it keeps growing and growing and growing. It's fucking unbearable.
Chloe cradles me like I became a glass figurine that might shatter any moment. "Max, you're bleeding. Just relax. This is good, we're safe here. So glad I don't have to carry you around this time."
I feel myself sinking into the cushions, and just like that consciousness gives way to the pain.