A/N: Hey guys! We're way beyond the second half of this story and I'm really, really happy that you keep reading it. Thank you all for following it, liking it, and for the kind reviews... I hope the next parts won't disappoint you!
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Chapter 9
(Blackwell, October 15)
Max woke up suddenly, from a sleep she had not been aware of falling into. She was sprawled on the sofa, in a rather uncomfortable position that left her limbs quite numb for a while.
The photo she'd retrieved from the wall had slipped on the floor, and as she sat properly, she grabbed it. A wave of nostalgia ran through her, longing for that lost time when she still was happy, only bothered by normal questioning and with no other mission than her own improvement in photography. And now this was all ruined…
A violent, deafening creak made her jolt on her sofa, increasing her heartbeat. She was totally awake now. She took a look outside.
The weather made the sky so dark she couldn't guess what time it was. The wind blew as wildly as it did when she had arrived earlier, and now it was raining on top of it.
Max's brain froze for a few seconds.
Wind. Rain.
Not again…
What's wrong with you, weather?! she thought with a mix of anger and fear. Chloe... Chloe's dead for Arcadia Bay's goddamn sake. Chloe died so that the storm wouldn't exist. So why are you all messed up again?
Or is it... me?
Did I... mess up with something, again?
But I can't rewind anymore... what's wrong?
She had to go to the lighthouse, see by herself what was really happening.
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— Argh…
Chloe grabbed her skull in her hands. The effort it took to "talk" to Max was making her mad. The air circle was now showing her some bits of the past — Max and her being dorky pirates on the seashore when they were 8 and 9 respectively, Max and her building pirate conspiracies and giggling in their tree fort two years later, …
Without a clue it switched to different futures... One in which Max had been a renowned photographer. One in which they had never met as kids and that felt so... totally wrong. One in which they were together in their early twenties. Together and happy, Max genuinely laughing at whatever crappy pun Chloe had just pulled out.
In this one they both had engagement rings. And it felt so weird for Chloe... and so totally damn right in the same time.
But mostly she could see the near future, and she really, really didn't like what it had to offer. Right now Jefferson was heading to the girls dorm, escorting a few of his students — including a few of Max's class — under a sea of umbrellas. Probably to make sure they were safe from the raging weather — classes were certainly dismissed at this point. And Max was about to rush out to the lighthouse... she would bump into that creepy guy…
He wasn't aware yet of the investigation going underground. He didn't know, either, that Max was the one who reported him to the police. But from what Chloe had seen, he had planned on kidnapping Max way before she — they — got nosy and found out about Rachel's vanishing.
Whatever true reason he had to go to the girls dorms right now couldn't be innocent in any way, and Chloe didn't know how to help Max out of his deadly claws.
Come on, Chloe thought. Find a way to tell her... or to move him out of the way…
So that was it? The rewind power that Max had and that Chloe had seemed envious of? The power to see all the threads and where they led to... and the pressure of finding the right ones, and the right way to weave them together?
Fuck, no wonder it gave her headaches and nosebleeds. No wonder she zoned out more often than her "ordinary" nerd self already would.
For once, Chloe urged herself to not complaining. At least where she was she — somehow — couldn't get such unpleasant after-effects. All she had to do was pulling out the right card at the right time. Truth was, she was afraid of screwing up and lead Max to a certain death.
She'd seen her dying in those other realities. And it was unbearable.
And that was what Max had had to go through for an entire week... Max, Maxie.
Jefferson was quietly approaching the dorm.
— Jeez, girl, it's time to move your ass wisely, Chloe grumbled, still trying to reach Max's thoughts. Come on, dude…
She had done it before but it had become somehow harder to achieve — and thus, more stressful.
The view of the weather, the darkness, the regular bright flashes of lightning, were getting on Chloe's nerves, too, and troubled her focus.
— And what the fuck with that weather anyway?! she exclaimed in frustration.
— Really, Chloe?
Her dad was there again, back next to her, popped out of nowhere.
— You really wonder what's wrong with the weather? he asked. Come on. I know you're smarter than that, he said, gently squeezing her shoulder.
Chloe turned to him, ready to answer, but seeing his serious look, she couldn't reply. And her heart sank as he resumed speaking:
— You've seen it happen once, haven't you?
