October 22nd

There wasn't much that could be said, could be done, in the wake of Ryan's words. Max sat alone in her bedroom now, her personal refuge, numb to all external stimuli save for sound which she drowned herself in to avoid the oppressive waves of rain beating her house. Crosses must have played over five times by now, part of a playlist that was grinding on idly in the background; It had stopped being truly appreciated three plays ago. Now it was merely whitenoise for Max to tune out the world with.

It sucked to think that their bed seemed, once again, to be hers and hers alone. What was she going to do with all that space? It was damn island, expansive and daunting... She tried not to focus on it, with its messy sheets strewn with stress rather than use. Two nights she had been alone. It felt like an eternity. She hated herself but she wished she was back at that the Relief Site... where each night she wouldn't have to be alone, curled up with Chloe... sheltered from the shit that pursued her in those long arms. Even if it did get them in trouble when they got caught, more than once.

One body per cot! Max merely scoffed at that.

Rules could be damned, after those days, those realities, leading up to the Storm... Max felt defiant- Chloe was so proud. She let out a diverted grunt, rubbing her elbows as she sat at her desk... just wishing should could get through to the blue haired phantom downstairs.

Chloe hadn't said much of anything, and though Max had tried, there was no reaching out to her Price... all attempts of comfort, of distraction, had been met with that same expression. That half-hearted smile, the one that said 'thanks for trying' from behind a dissociated wall of emotional parasthesia... with the most weary of non-vocalized tones.

All Max wanted was to let Chloe know she wasn't alone, that she had her back... but she wanted that back too. Was that too much to ask? I'm suffering too... doesn't that matter? She beat herself up for it, for wanting the comfort, but, hadn't she earned it? After all that shit in Arcadia Bay... all those sacrifices, haven't I earned that?

Max had no right to complain, Chloe had been there relentlessly- living up to her promise. Together forever; it had only been recently, that life had demanded more of Chloe's time than Max was okay with. It made Max's heart sieze uncomfortably, the memory of them watching the world end together. But the world didn't end... well, not entirely.

In the week that followed, during their time in the Site, they never spent more than an hour or two apart. And that was mutual, right? Chloe needed me as much as I needed her, yeah? Max felt that insidious feeling of uncertainty coil in her chest, tightening on her lungs. Fuck. She needed to stop overthinking things.

Both girls had been injured now though, and sadly, somethings hurt too much to truly hit you all at once, and it was this awful type of pain that had taken Max and Chloe both into it's embrace... swallowing them up. It keeps you there, trapped in a low level of inescapable despair that surrounds like a choking, blinding smog. It had been hard not to shoot the messenger, Dad was just doing his job, he's still doing it... but had he not told them? Well... it wasn't his fault. Max had asked this of him, and like the loving father he was, he did as she requested gladly.

Neither she nor Chloe had seen him since the news, he had slipped away in obscurity... he just left the kitchen and seemed to dissolve into the house. Much like Chloe did not long after. Maybe they went to the same place? A magical place were folks decided to isolate themselves to wallow or just escape? No fair... Max only had her room. She sighed, and pinched the bridge of her nose. Fortunately though, her mother had been there for some company; the Caulfield Matriarch was at work right now, but, undoubtedly Max would find some solace from her again later in the form of cookies baked with cheerful intent.

It isn't fair.

Together they had survived Hell. Side by side they had stared fate in the face, stood their ground, and screamed no to the injustice of it... in the pursuit of the justice Chloe so desperately sought, and for the life Max so desperately wanted to save.

But why? Max turned cold with shame as she heard that quiet little voice, her own voice and yet not, call out from the dark corners of her mind. She was quick to crush it, and cradled her head in her hands as she felt it throb with the strain as she tried not to think about it... where did that come from? She sighed through her nose, maybe she had been alone too long.

Life is a shitshow, and the world is no fairytale, Max knew. Reality, or at least the now flimsy perception of it she now held, was not kind and as far from merciful as she could ever imagine... and it would not allow defiance. For every action, a reaction, for every decision, a consequence.

Fuck with my flow, I take your hope. That was the reaction, the consequence of the universe as Max figured... and it left a disgusting taste in her mouth and coal of rage in her belly. But what was I to do? Just roll over? Just let it take Chloe...? Was that seriously the only way to get justice? 'Hi there Miss Price, I know I took your dad, and the girl you love, but now I have one more fun little curveball for you!'

Max's fists and toes clenched... hunching over the desk like some kind of bitter troll as she tried her best to crush her growing anger. It was becoming an alarming pattern now that the only two things she could feel since last night was sorrow, and an intense rage.

A rage pointed outwards at the Universe at large.

Fuck the Universe, fuck you... you can't do this to us, not after everything! What have I got to do before you give me a break!?

A break, what a joke.

Jefferson was still at large, and though she prayed in spite of herself that he was dead, her heart and guts anxiously seemed deadset that he wasn't. But that wasn't all, was it? Oh no...

Rachel Amber... God Chloe, I'm so sorry...

Max looked out her door and peered down the stairs in the hope she might see Chloe come up them... but she knew that wasn't going to happen. Price hadn't slept, nor had she actually eaten anything; she just sat up in the kitchen all night in the quiet, trying to wrap her head around it all. Caulfield understood... she had seen Chloe die enough times to know the feeling of wanting to be alone, isolated, to come to terms with losing the one person you love the most.

Oh... Wowser...

That was a bitter pill to swallow... and Max hated herself for it.

She's allowed to mourn, Rachel was her best friend, but... I... We...? No, don't finish that thought. Max's inner voice fell into a shamed silence, and Max flicked a pen across the desk with frustration before pushing the heels of her palms to her eyes and rubbing.

It felt so futile... all that effort, all that pain and suffering... and for what? Max was struggling to find a reason. Had she known this would be the outcome, that Rachel would simply vanish? Max wasn't even sure if she could look Chloe in the eye and say she would follow the investigation as hard as they did- she wanted to say yes, but... ugh. She hated her own uncertainty.

Why do I find myself wanting to go back? Max let out a staggered and emotional breath, before her eyes rested on a lonesome book sat on the edge of desk, with a lamp perched upon it. Treasure Island. It stirred a longing feeling, nostalgic fingers reaching out into the seas of her memory, reaching for happier times. But what would I do...? What possibly could I do that any different?

Max's crestfallen eyes lingered on the book... resting intensely, contemplatively, before she took it in hand, and let the pages fall open... and a broken polaroid slide out from within, stashed away in secret by Max upon their arrival. With no small amount of trepidation Caulfield reached out, gingerly taking it between finger and thumb, as though expecting it to come to life and hurt her.

Why did I keep you...? It felt so strange, holding it in her hand... the one torn remnant, the other half lost to the destroying winds of Arcadia Bay. Max could still make out the image, obscured by half of its form ripped away. The blue butterfly. The picture that started it all.

It seemed energized, unstable, like a nuclear reactor on the precipice of meltdown and yet it was totally inert. Max couldn't grasp why she decided to keep it; was it some means of knowing for sure that what happened was real, that it wasn't some deluson? Wouldn't that be cruel... or was it some kind of twisted momento? A broken slice of time, a reminder. A reminder of all the choices and all the sacrifices she made to get to where she was now, alive... with Chloe.

But as she pushed from her chair which groaned hard against the floor from her heavy lift off, and stuffed the picture back into its dwelling with a clap of the cover snapping shut. Max couldn't be sure of many things anymore, time and space had convulsed and bent to her whims, only to crack like a whip against her to the point that the lines in the sand had almost blown entirely away- but she did know one thing for certain: That she would spit in the eye of fate to save Chloe every-single-time. There was no doubt about that. Not one shred of it. It was simultaneously frightening and empowering just how resolute she was about that.

With quiet footsteps Max padded down the stairs. She wanted to see Chloe, even if she wasn't sure that Price wanted to see her. It hurt to think that, after everything... but she peeked her head slyly around the banister of the stairs as she reached the bottom, and peered down the hall.

There she was, haloed in the ashen glow of the monotone sky leaking in from behind closed blinds... simply sat quietly at the kitchenette, phone in hand, and chin in palm. She was typing a message, or something... Max couldn't tell, but with a quiet sigh she decided to stop lurking, and straightening out her t-shirt put on a brave face and joined her.

"H-hey Chloe..." nice stammer there, Caulfield.

Chloe looked up, and with eyes sleeplessly hooded and dark... she gave Max that smile. It killed her to see it... but it seemed a little warmer this time. "Hi Maxaroni"

Max moved around the kitchenette, giving Chloe's shoulders an affectionate squeeze and a kiss on the girl's cheek before sitting on the opposing stool. Oh my god... she reeks of smoke, more than usual... her eyes panned to the ashtray, and bulged at the sight. Before Chloe it never really saw use, more an ornament gifted from grandparents, but now? From only one night? It was home to a pile of ash and burnt out stubs almost an inch tall.

"Jesus, Chloe... that interview you snagged for being a professional chimney...?" the two shared a small, non-commital chuckle. Chloe shook her head.

"Not my style, Caulfield... more like freelance chimney, I don't want to get tied down to a job" Max couldn't help but smile fondly... happy to finally see a glimmer of her Chloe shining through the smoke "Are you okay?"

Am I okay? Max couldn't help but think incredulously, taken aback by the question... but she nodded almost evasively.

"Yeah... as well as can be, I suppose... and you?" there was a silence for a few good moments as Chloe just took a long drag on her latest cigarette.

"Better than I was, Super Max... it's just... fuck" Chloe's shoulder slumped, and with it, Max's heart. The chipped blue nails of the punk's fingers disappeared into her hair, trying to loosen up the tightness of her scalp and relieve her thoughts, letting the ethereal tendrils of smoke pool free of her lips... drifting upwards like a ghost. Max could just about make out the dark beginnings of natural roots beginning to poke through the cerulean she had come to love.

"I know... it sucks... its not fair and it just fucking sucks" Chloe peered up at Max then with tired but imploring eyes as Max took a breath, trying not to let her own feelings overwhelm her. How could she? Chloe has lost Rachel... Again. My feelings can wait few minutes... "But we'll fix it... we'll-"

"Fucking how?" Chloe sharply intercepted, stopping Max In her tracks "Just how the fuck are we supposed to fix this?"

Max felt her soul prepping to eject from her body, and shrank a little as she watched Chloe rise with the smokey air of an irritated dragon, stinking of frustration, ash, and tar, as she snuffed out her cigarette among the heap of its kin.

"M-My Dad... he's working on it..." Caulfield's voice was timid, she was walking on eggshells. She was trying to cheer Chloe up, but... fuck. Nothing can go right these days. "Him and his p-partner... they'll get to the bottom of it, we can-" Once more, Chloe swooped in like a merciless shrike, talons at the ready, as she exploded with agitation and knocked the words right back into Max's dry mouth.

"Oh, fucking right! Yes, great one Max. Hilarious. Him and Wonder Woman will just fix it all huh? Cause that always pans out..." Chloe glowered, brows knitted intensely.

"C-Chloe... please..."

But there was no stopping Price right now, she had snowballed, caught up in a embittered momentum.

"How the fuck are we supposed to find Rachel now? It took us days to find her, wrapped in plastic like some... something out a horror movie! And that was with leads, now we have nothing! So you tell me- How? How do we fix it? Dying to know here Maxipad!"

There it was.

That low level of pain Max had been in lurched, and suddenly Max found herself hurled into a sharper, higher valley. Tears welled up in her eyes, hurt, angry tears... once more a victim of the pattern. Chloe was seething, but there was a shade of regret in her features. Had she meant to explode like that? Max would have wondered... but she was too wounded for that.

Price's words were like a shank to the ribs.

"Is that all you're concerned about...?" Max's quiet words were so pained they stole the fuel from Chloe's fire, dousing it like a bucket of cold water as her eyes flickered with confusion.

"What...?" Caulfield could see it, that bemusement blooming, her infuriated confidence shot to shit.

Now it was Max's turn to snowball.

"The man who locked me in a his torture chamber and drugged me... posed me... could still be out there. D-did you stop one moment to think about that...? About how t-that would make me feel? In all this time you've spent blanking me out, you've spent it all thinking about her!" Choe's eyes turned to saucers, the color draining from her face as she watch Max's velocity climb higher and higher... only to suddenly stop, and quietly implode.

"I'm fucking scared to death, Chloe... and you don't give a shit..."

Max grit her teeth, her fists clenched tight as she held back tears seeking to flow freely... able to stop all but some from streaming free of those azure eyes that now glistened with intensity. She didn't want to sound bitter, nor jealous, but... it stung too much to ignore. She had to vent.

Chloe had frozen over, her face dawning with a horrified realization as her own darkness seemed to recede the moment she met those agonised eyes of Caulfield's. Max was barely holding it together... before she found herself assisted.

"M-Max, no, I'm sorry!" Chloe's arms were around Max in an instant, the punk practically barrelling into her and keeping the frail brunette held close as her grip on those tears loosened "Max, I love you you... I love you so fucking much it hurts... if that Jeffer-fuck ever comes near you again, he's fucking dead! Dead with a capital fucking D!"

The vehement venom in Chloe's voice, in her words, suggested to Max that the punk was not kidding around... and Caulfield let her hands slide around Price's back, clutching onto that baggy hoodie she was swaddled in as she tried to black out thoughts of the junkyard, of an unforeseen betrayal and gunshot. Of gore she never wanted to see. Never meet your heroes, they say...

There was no safer feeling for Max than being like this though, held tight and holding tight onto Chloe... it brought back flashes of them with hands clasped like the lifelines they had become, watching the Storm devour Arcadia Bay... and spooning together in their Relief Site cots for comfort as the pain of her choices overwhelmed Max in those quiet nights, dispersed with the groans of people her choices had maimed.

This is real, right? That small, dark voice once more whispers from the back of her mind, blowing past the cobwebs... and Max is quick to silence it, to smother it as she nuzzled into Chloe's shoulder, breathing in that miasma she was drenched in. There was just enough of Chloe beneath it to make it bearable.

"It's just... Rachel was..." Chloe starts, but she can't assemble the words... too fatigued or simply unable to voice how she felt... Rachel was her Angel, Max recalled... that inability to vocalize made sense. Max pulled her head back, sliding her arms around the Punk's slim neck as she leaned in, and rested cheek to cheek.

"I know, Chloe... it's just... I'm here too..." the whisper hushed Price entirely, though the air was thick with feelings, and the blue haired girl's embrace slowly drew Max in closer with loving motivation.

"Listen to me, Super Max... you, you know I'm n-not that great at the mushy mushy... I'm learning, okay? But I care about you, Maximus... I fucking love you, and don't you forget it" Chloe smiled dotingly, and Max felt her chest grow reluctantly warm "You're the best thing that ever happened to me... You saved me, in more ways than one. We're hella bonded for life, remember?"

The two shared a fragile little giggle, and briefly squeezed tighter before Chloe took Max's cheeks in the cradle of her palms, thumbing away the tears, while they tried to form in her own "Don't you think for one second, ever, that I don't care my badass time-ninja bestfriend... my girlfriend"

Max's chest bloomed with heat. Girlfriend. God how she wished she could just shout that at the top of her lungs. Hey everybody! Look at my beautiful punk girlfriend! Look at her! It made her crack a tiny, wry grin in spite of herself... just picturing it, and knowing damn well that Chloe would actually brag that she was the beautiful punk girlfriend. It made her regret that the situation required subtly for now... or rather, regret that she thought it did- Around her parents, anyway.

They had been bestfriends since they were children, would it really surprise anyone...? Max didn't think so, but she was too anxious to risk dropping it on her mother just yet, so soon after returning. Her father however? Well... she had a creeping suspicion he knew (after-all, he is a detective), and thankfully, didn't mind.

Smiling up at Chloe, Max brushed a stray locke of cerulean from the punk's eyes and found herself quietly admiring her... silencing those nagging voices in the back of her mind.

"Your partner in crime" Max boasted, and Chloe grinned bashfully, breathing a staggered sigh of a relieved laugh.

"Your partner in time" she replied... and the two shared a giggle, blushing at just how cheesy they had allowed themselves to be for a moment. It was a quiet, lovely titter, fleeting despite the permanence of their smiles. Sleepily they watched each other for a few, almost uncertain moments, before Chloe gently took Max's chin between finger and thumb, and drew their lips together for a small, longing kiss.

Wowser... she tastes like an ashtray! But I guess I can forgive it this once... Max could've mewled into those lips, simultaneously unable and perfectly able to understand just how much she missed Chloe. Two nights without the girl... in a manner of speaking; though Chloe not being there, in mind rather than body, was worse than the blue haired miscreant's overnight trip to Portland by far however. There were few things worse than being alone in a crowded home.

Vzzt Vzzt.

"Hmm..?" the sudden sound of a vibrating phone interrupted the moment as the pair broke their kiss unwillingly to peer around... as if they had forgotten there was a world around them. Max expect to see her mothe stood there or something, because you know, fate and all that... but thankfully not. The hazy air of relaxation around Chloe tickled Max to see, though... it seemed the rebellious Price had needed their little kiss just as much Max did, apparently... something that made Max feel just a teeny tiny bit smug.

Vzzt Vzzt. There it was again! Damn... someone's needy... heh, like I'm one to comment.

"I think it's mine..." Chloe begrudgingly admitted, offering Max a little sheepish smile as recompense as she discretely swiped dew from her eyes. Max rolled her eyes, amused, and wiped them dry with the back of her delicate hands.

"Well, better check it then... they clearly seem to need you more than me" now it was Chloe's turn to roll her eyes, and Max threw a tiny, teasing grin at Chloe. She mouthed 'oh ha ha' and gifted Max with a departing smooch on the forehead as she took a grip of her phone, and unlocked it.

The pensive grumble that followed sent a nervous shiver through Max, who watched as Chloe read her messages with a growing feeling that she was somehow being... left out... of something. "Everything okay...?" Max hesitantly asked.

"Wha...? Oh, yeah dude, yeah I'm good..." Max recognized that faraway, equivocal tone in an instant... narrowing her eyes at Chloe dubiously "It's uh... it's just about an interview, they uh... they want me to come down and see 'em this afternoon"

Max merely blinked at that, so suddenly? She wondered skeptically "Bit last minute, isn't it? I mean, you haven't even slept yet, Chloe..."

Chloe chuckled, though it felt a little forced... tepid, to an extent "Well, I did get an hour, actually... I think, kinda blacked the hell out for a while" she rubbed the back of her neck with a subdued smile. Who is she fooling? Max wanted to believe her, and mostly did, but there as that little part of her that was chary about giving her the full thing.

"Well... I..." Max began to fidget, a hand apprehensively rubbing her flimsy bicep in misgiving. Chloe was quick to stop her, taking both of those slim hands in her own. Caulfield didn't want to sound needy... well, needier, but how could she admit that she didn't want to be left alone again? To say it sucked royally was putting it mildly.

"Relax, Mad Max... I won't be long, I promise... couple of hours, tops" Chloe smiled, this time with a winning fullness that allowed a total trust in her words. Max didn't want to hold her back, she could see plainly that whatever this 'interview' was for, it was important... it was written on the backs of Chloe's eyes like graffiti that used to span her walls. Nibbling her lip nervously, Max nodded, giving Chloe's hands a firm squeeze.

"Alright... fine" Chloe grinned as Max relented, opening her mouth no doubt to follow up with something charming in the glow of victory- only to be shushed by Max "But you're coming to bed for a nap with me first, got it...? It's like 9AM, you've got time. I wouldn't feel great about you hitting the road with barely any sleep- I'm Mad Max, only I'm allowed to be reckless behind the wheel"

Chloe smirked along with Max "Only 'cause your bony freckled ass can't drive"

"Details, details" Max said with a mock air of dismissive pomposity, which melted into a genuine smile "So... nap?" she asked, hopeful.

The soft, dreamy smile that curled Chloe's lips oh so subtly said it all, and taking Max's hand she helped the girl to her feet and nodded for good measure.

"I think I'd like that... feel like being the big spoon?" Max snorted, and tugged Chloe along, wiping the last patches of damp from her eyes as she did so.

"Maybe just this once" it didn't take them long to sleep... mere moments after they interlocked they bodies and enshrouded themselves in the duvet, the pair had left the waking world long behind them... to sleep comfortably for the first time in awhile, while the wind screamed beyond their walls.