Chapter Text

Joyce didn't waste time after getting Max's consent to contact the authorities. After their meal, she took the plates and silverware, humming as she did the dishes. Immediately afterwards she brisked into the hallway, lifting the home phone to call the local police station.

Even though Max had agreed to this, she couldn't help but start to get cold shivers while remaining glued to the dining table with Chloe. The whole situation felt a little unreal-they were actually doing this. She was going to have to talk to a cop, presumably to child protective services as well. Incessant thoughts screamed in her head. Would they believe her? Would they commit her to a medical ward, thinking she's hurting herself?

This whole situation is completely unfair. I'm the victim, here! I haven't done anything wrong. Why do I have to go through all this?

The two girls listened in earnest as Joyce insisted that she talk to Office Berry. There seemed to be some back and forth on the matter, but eventually Joyce appeared satisfied, giving both girls the thumbs up and a smile.

Max felt a jab in her forearm. Chloe had leaned in close, and was sniffing her clothes.

"Dude, you smell like ass," Chloe remarked under her breath.

"You try running away from home without a pair of clothes to your name, see how you do," Max hushed back in retort.

It was true-Chloe had gotten the opportunity to change her outfit this morning. A situation during which Max found herself strangely shy. It was odd. They had changed clothing in front of each other plenty during their multitude of sleepovers growing up. Why did it feel so different now? Earlier, when Chloe non-nonchalantly changed her outfit, Max was so fluxed that she forgot to even ask about changing own clothing. Not that Chloe would've been able to help her much there. She was a completely different size now. Max laughed internally at the image of her wearing some of Chloe's outfits.

"Come on," Chloe pressed. "Mom will be on the phone for a while. Let's head back upstairs and," Chloe playfully waved the air between them with her hand, "get you changed. You need a shower too."

"Any other comments, Ms. Umbridge?"

Chloe lightly tugged on Max's sleeve in response, urging Max to rise from her seat and follow up the stairs. Joyce gave both girls a questioning look as they passed. Chloe pinched her nose while pointing at Max in explanation. Max just rolled her eyes as they ascended the stairs. Joyce gave a nodding smile before returning her attention to the call.

Once safely sequestered in the already re-familiarized security of Chloe's room, Max watched as Chloe threw open her closet and began rummaging through clothes on hangers while she talked.

"Rachel... she would stay over a lot. Enough to leave some of her shit here, and she's your size. Um, yeah, here we go. Perfect."

Chloe drew a tight fitting small t-shirt, along with a checkered flannel over-shirt, combined with a pair of jeans that exhibited the "cool" worn-in look which seemed so in fashion these days. Max raised an eyebrow-this definitely wasn't her style. She had trended towards less... tight fitting apparel. For some time now, she had dressed herself in a manner to not attract attention. These clothes were certainly a change in direction.

"Are you sure this is okay, Chloe?" Max questioned. "Me, wearing Rachel's clothes? I mean, it hasn't been that much time since you even learned the truth..."

The words lingered heavily in the air. Enough time passed that Max silently cursed herself for bringing it up. Chloe held Rachel's clothes in her hand, looking at them with a sad expression.

"It's... it's fine, Max. Really." Chloe sighed, squeezing her eyes shut. "She would've loved you, you know? We would've been the best of friends..."

It was strange to see her old companion in such a vulnerable light, especially considering Chloe's new "hardened" image. But underneath it all, Max quickly realized that the girl standing before her was still very much the wounded teenager she left years ago. Surprising herself, Max closed the distance between them, giving Chloe a hug, pressing the clothes between them.

"I hella would be going apeshit right now, you know," Chloe continued, relaxing a bit in the embrace. "if it weren't for you, Max. I really would be all alone..."

"Don't be crazy, Chloe. You still have Joyce."

Chloe gave a single laugh in reply. "Joyce just wants to move on. Like Dad never existed. I can't do that. I'll never do that, Max."

"There's no way Joyce has forgotten William, Chloe. They loved each other so much, we both know that. Everyone deals with death in their own way. At least Joyce came to peace with it. My mom, on the other hand..."

The hug ended gradually, with Chloe pushing the clothes into Max's chest.

"Yeah. I know, I know. Joyce might've married an absolute douche-nozzle, but at least she still cares about me, much as I hate to admit it. Even step-ass himself, in his own fucked up way. What Vanessa's allowed to go down under her own roof." Chloe stopped, shaking her head. "Max... I couldn't imagine. If David starting doing that to me, and I told Joyce, there's no world where she wouldn't kick his ass to the curb, veteran or no."

Max looked at the floor, hugging her new outfit closer. Chloe's attention wandered about the room, settling on her smoking set up. Max took that as her cue to leave. She hadn't completely wrapped her mind around the fact that Chloe was a pothead.

Max knew Rachel's clothes were way outside her comfort zone, but there was something about being with Chloe that permitted a sense of confidence. A courage she hadn't felt in years. Things in the years between their absence had been bad. Horrible beyond imagining. But everything was different now.

Is it sad that I have to keep reminding myself that it's over-that I'm safe? Once we get the paperwork filed, there's no way Calvin or Eric can touch us. This is my life now... with Chloe. And Joyce. And Mr. "step-ass," come what may with that. It's kinda funny how we haven't discussed the logistics of this. Am I just going to bunk with her, in her room?

The thought brought an immediate, uncontrollable blush to her face. Chloe had meanwhile strewn herself face up on her bed, and released a pillar of smoke, which rose and fanned out on the ceiling.

"Penny for your thoughts? You look like you're 'bout to burst a gasket. Like, Hanna-Barbera style. Like seriously. You got steam coming out your ears."

Suddenly self conscious, Max turned to face the door, moving swiftly for a prompt exit. "I hear a shower calling my name. You were complaining about my odor?"

Chloe waved her hand dismissively. "Make it so!"


Max took another whiff of herself before stepping into the running water.

It's funny. Unless mine olfactory doth deceive me, I don't actually smell that bad. I mean, I've never been one to sweat much. So what was Chloe complaining about, really?

The thought continued to consume her attention as the much-anticipated hot water rushed over her. Odor or no, it had been a few days since she'd received a good shower. And showers had always been a pet favorite activity. A time to rinse clean, and meditate without fear of interruption.

So much had transpired in so little time. The revelation of Rachel's fate, to Chloe discovering her secret, to their flight from Seattle. Max realized she hadn't had a chance to just stop and think. With a small grin, she concluded that things were on course. And her new future granted a full spectrum of opportunities for self reflection. Because Calvin and his buddy Eric were as good as done. She and Chloe had irrefutable proof of their guilt: all that was left to do was give it to the one man who would undoubtedly run with it.

What sort of man is Mr. Amber, anyway? Chloe seemed reluctant to even approach him. She only suggested it when going to him seemed a measure of last resort. Is he trustworthy? What if he's just another Eric Landhauser? But... this is his daughter. I have to believe he'll care, and do the right thing.

Her shower-ritual complete, Max turned the faucet to its "off" position and stepped out of the tub, onto the mat. She inadvertently took a melancholy look at herself in the mirror. It was an action she tried best to avoid. Her bruises and scars were still visible, and sent a shiver down her spine, invoking an involuntary self-hug.

A strange pressure grew within her skull, culminating in a roaring noise. It felt like burning white light, given voice, and made manifest. It screamed and roared, and would not be ignored.

"Quit struggling, you ungrateful brat! I've given you and your wanton bitch of a mother everything! God, that woman is such a whore. Fucking embarrassment, really, to be related to her." Max took Calvin's brief bemusement as an opportunity to twist free, hoping he distracted his own drunken-self enough to afford her a route for escape. A naive expectation. When his grip tightened, Max reflexively bit his arm. "Bitch! Ya know what you fuckin' need? A god-damn lesson." The next few moments were a blur of movement, ending with him standing, belt in hand, a large grin growing on his face, and-

Max gasped, falling to the floor of the Price household's bathroom, trying to slow her heart rate.

What the fuck was that? Am I this broken? Seriously, that was, like, so real. Like I was back... there. This is so fucked up. Even when I've escaped, will I still be caged? Can I even tell Chloe about this? Or will she just see it as a cry for attention? She's putting up a tough front, but I can tell she's in so much pain... you're not the only one with issues, Max Caulfield!

Gathering herself, Max eyed Rachel's garments.

I guess I have to do this. I wouldn't be surprised if Chloe's already burnt my previous armor to cinders. And... Chloe's right. I can wear these. What do I have to lose? I might've been helpless before, but not now. It's the assholes who need to fear me, not the other way around.

Max honestly couldn't tell if she was fooling herself. Yes, her power gave her an unruly edge. But her experience with Victoria in the lunchroom soured her expectations. Ultimately, there was no real harm done. But what if the stakes had been for real?

To her surprise, Rachel's clothes did fit like a glove, as promised. Max took in her new visage from the reflection in the mirror. She appeared as a different person: these new clothes, combined with the change in hair color, offered a completely new image. A new Max. She gave the mirror a smile, and liked who looked back.


"Joyce! So good to see you."

Officer Anderson Berry offered a quick hug to Joyce, which was readily accepted. Their comfortable bearing set Max at ease as she watched from down the entryway hall. Chloe stood over Max's side, giving the image of a motherly hawk protecting her young.

Giving Joyce a squeeze on the shoulders, Officer Berry looked past her down the hall, and made eye contact with both Max and Chloe.

"Chloe. I have to say, it's been good not to see you."

"Sup, Andy," Chloe replied. Anderson winced at Chloe's familiar use of his name. It was one of his pet peeves-he liked the respect his uniform afforded him. Something Chloe learned a while ago would drive him crazy.

"And you must be Max," Anderson surmised while walking into living room, where both Max and Chloe stood. Officer Berry struck Max as... alright. He didn't have that threatening demeanor so omnipresent among the cops she had known through Calvin. So far he had made no effort to "throw his weight" around. Almost reluctantly, she found herself leaning towards liking him, Chloe's sarcasm not withstanding.

"Hello, officer," Max said as she stepped forward, offering a hand to shake. Berry took it without hesitation, and Max was surprised when he didn't squeeze uncomfortably, but rather maintained a firm grip for a moment, and then let go. More and more, Max was beginning to understand why Joyce trusted this man.

"So. Joyce here says you've run away from home, Max. Is this true?"

"It is, Mr. Berry," Max confirmed with her best "confident" voice.

"Okay then. Well, this is a bit of a problem, Max. By harboring you, both Joyce and David are making themselves liable to being sued by your legal guardians."

"Andy," Joyce cut in. "There's something I didn't explain over the phone."

The conversation stopped, and Berry took in the three women standing in front of him. "I feel like there's a lot more going on here than what's been said," he surmised.

Chloe coughed, while crossing her arms and looking towards the TV. "That would be putting it lightly," she remarked offhandedly.

"Max has something she needs to say," Joyce explained. She turned her attention directly at Max. "Honey, I know this isn't easy, but I need you to tell Berry here what you told me."

This was it. Max bit her lip, suddenly getting cold feet. This situation could be Vanessa all over again. Especially once this man learns the person she's accusing is a cop himself. Wasn't there some "code of blue" between all officers of the law? Would he even hear her out?

Chloe rested a hand on Max's shoulder, giving her an encouraging look. "Max, you know I think all cops are twats, but Berry, well... he's okay. Mom wasn't wrong to bring him into this."

Berry rolled his eyes. "Thank you, Chloe, for the glowing endorsement. You do know we try our best."

Max decided to plunge in, consequences be damned. "Officer, I ran away because I'm being abused at home. Physically, and..." The words almost wouldn't come out. She tried, but it was like a cat caught her tongue.

Berry slowly nodded. "It's okay, Max. You don't need to go into details here. But am I correct in understanding that by staying at home, you are in physical danger?"

"Yes," Max replied, with as much earnestness as she could muster.

"And can you identify your abuser?"

"Yes," Max repeated. "He's my uncle. He lives with us. His name is Calvin Young."

Berry took out his note pad and scribbled down a few words. He then nodded thoughtfully. "Okay, Max. It's really brave of you to do this. A lot of minors in your position are simply too terrified of their abusers to stand up and call them out."

"There's another thing," Max continued. Berry raised an eyebrow, but let Max finish. "My uncle, he's... well, he's also a cop. He works for the Seattle Police Department."

This gave Berry pause. He raised a hand to his chin, rubbing it slowly.

Shit. This is it. This is where he calls me a liar. This is where he calls up the SPD, tells them he's found a local runaway. This is where hell begins. Again.

"Thank you for your candor, Ms. Caulfield," Berry replied. Max stood in shock. No denials, or refutations of her accusation? "It is a serious thing, to accuse an officer of something like this. But that doesn't mean you shouldn't be taken seriously. If true, this is very grave indeed." Berry gave his notepad a few more notes before continuing. "Max. Here's what we need to do. You need to sign a sworn affidavit that states your case. Then, we need to get child protective services to take you into custody, where you will be safe. At the same time, we can get a domestic violence protective order against Mr. Young. This will be scary, and complicated, but don't worry. I'll be with you every step of the way."

"Bull-shit, you're taking Max into protective custody," Chloe swore. "Mom, you're not going to let them take her, right?"

Joyce gave Berry a hard look. "Andy, Max is a family friend. She's an Arcadia Bay native, for goodness' sake. Before her family moved, she practically lived in this household. There's a reason she chose us as a safe place to run to. Please, isn't there any way that CPS could let her stay with us?"

Berry considered Joyce's words. "Yes, actually. If you can get a CPS officer to sign the appropriate waivers, Max can stay with you. This won't be hard, realistically, if I explain the situation in person."

Joyce put a hand on Berry's shoulder. "You're a good man, officer. I knew we could trust you."

Berry put a hand behind his head, laughing slightly uncomfortably. "Come on now, Joyce. You know we all at the department look after you. After all, without the Two Whales, we'd all starve!"


The car ride to the Arcadia Bay police station was spent mostly in silence. Max could tell Officer Berry was uncomfortable with the content of the situation. Hell, she understood. She was uncomfortable with it as well. But she agreed to go with the man when he asked, despite Chloe's protests. Chloe has persisted, several times, to go with Max, but Berry said it simply wasn't necessary, and Joyce pressed that she wanted some time alone with her daughter. Apparently they had a few thing things to discuss.

Her close-to-psychedelic experience after being tased aside, this was Max's first experience in a police cruiser. She had to admit, riding shotgun was pretty comfy. And all the gear and equipment seemed pretty cool, as well.

"I can tell you're nervous, Max," Berry began. "and it's completely okay. You seem like a good, honest person. And it's nice to hear you're from the area. How long ago did you move away?"

"Not the long ago," Max replied. "Just shortly after William's death."

Berry nodded, slowly. "I remember Mr. Price. He was a good man. Such a tragedy."

A silence lingered between them. Max wasn't sure how to continue the conversation, and Berry didn't seem eager to offer up new topics. A few minutes later, his cell phone began to ring. He sighed, bringing it to his ear.

Excuse me? I thought "distracted driving" was a big no-no?

"Yes? Oh, of course. Yes I'll wait." A few seconds later, Berry continued, "Hello, Mr. Prescott. Yes. Yes. Oh. Are you sure about that? There's got to be some sort of mistake... Oh. I understand. Are you sure? Okay. Okay. Of course, Mr. Prescott. Good bye."

Berry hung up the phone, giving Max an odd look, as if she was some sort of strange alien sitting in his passenger seat. Noticing Max's confused look in response, he quickly interjected "Favors for a friend of the community. Nothing that concerns you, Max."

Mr. Prescott. Where have I heard that name? I swear it sounds familiar. From my days back here in the Bay. Anyway. Doesn't sound like anything important. Probably just some community donor trying to pull his weight.

The remainder of the trip passed uneventfully. Max used the experience as a time to soak in the changes that have occurred to her hometown in her absence. They were small, but noticeable. Businesses that used to exist, but now had "For Sale" sales on their windows. Numerous houses that had foreclosure signs posted. It seemed that a dark cloud had fallen on Arcadia Bay. Max reminded herself that this was probably the normal state of affairs, outside the "big city bubble." The news constantly talked about how small town America was hurting in the post great-recession crisis. But this was the first she'd actually seen of it.

When they reached the station, Berry gave Max another odd look. Max found it unsettling. He had been so upfront, and nice earlier. What had changed?

Nevertheless, it wasn't as if she could back out now. When Berry parked his cruiser at the police station, she pushed her worried thoughts aside, and followed him into the building. Unsurprisingly, everyone was quite friendly. They gave Max the full small town welcome, and were particularly nice when they learned she was a native.

After pleasantries were exchanged, the expected events occurred. Max wrote, then signed, an affidavit explaining her situation. Berry filed paperwork for CPS. Max was surprised that she never even needed to interview with a case worker. Berry said he had it taken care of. The onslaught of documents and signatures continued, until finally it ended, and Max breathed a sigh of relief. The only remaining task was the one forced to the next day: to give Mr. Amber the files about his daughter. Undoubtedly, that would be an uncomfortable experience, but it was one that must be had.

Then there was the money. It was something she had yet to discuss with Chloe. Should they give it over to Mr. Amber? From an objective standpoint, it was the right thing to do. Surely it would help the case, even if they had taken a little from the stash to pay for their safe journey from Seattle. But Chloe seemed so hopeful at the promise the small fortune gave. A fulfilled dream of freedom. A covenant of escape. Max didn't feel comfortable prying that from her.

Yet another uncomfortable conversation. Seems like there's been too many of those recently. It's funny... I already know, ahead of time, that I'll just do whatever Chloe wants. Is that crazy? Or unhealthy?

Max pondered the question while waiting for a ride back to the Price residence. It was almost midday now. These things always took longer than one would think.

"Max, good news," Berry exclaimed, walking up to her seat in the station's lobby. "Everything is ship-shape, and you're cleared to stay with the Prices. You ready to go home?"

"You have no idea, Mr. Berry," Max replied. It was time to go home. A real home, where she could feel safe, and be welcomed. Where she could feel loved.