This chapter contains some heavy theme, so may be triggering for some readers.
Max Caulfield & Rachel Amber
Seattle : Caulfield Residence
March 20th, 2013 10:24 PM
The soft pale light from the desk lamp is the only source that illuminates the teenage girl's bedroom. On the desk is an astronomy textbook flipped to a diagram of a comet and several sheets of the homework assignment, that Max is working on. She leans back into her chair, rolling her fingers for a stretch, relieving the hand cramps and detaching her mind from her studies, to gaze dreamily at the pale ceiling.
Earlier at the mall parking lot, Max slowly regained her wits, after that frightening experience of seeing her mother's corpse right inside her. Instead of returning back to the dreaded passenger seat, she decided to move to the backseat, staying there for the rest of the ride. Her mother didn't question too much about the anxiety attack, trying not to aggravate back her fear again. For the rest of the car ride, she was content that her daughter was feeling better.
Max snaps back from her daydream, staring absent-mindedly at the almost empty glass cup with ice cubes and a small sliver of red liquid that is mixed with the melted ice. The refreshing sweet-and-tart taste still lingers in her mouth. It's sweet. Daddy made me a cherry limeade to cheer me up. She puts the pen on top of her puckered lips, balancing on it. Hate to come home and realizing you have homework due tomorrow after time traveling back. It is tedious to do this homework about comets, asteroids, and meteors. Thank dog, I kind of remembered all the answers. She twists around in her seat, staring at the door to her bedroom, as her face warms up with joy. But... My family is back…
She leans over, opening a desk drawer, and taking out a picture frame of her and Chloe. When she moved to Seattle, it was on her desk in plain sight. Trying to remind herself of the better moments together with Chloe. But more and more, it became a constant reminder of how horrible she was as a best friend, unable to keep in touch with her. So she had to tuck it away, as it became unbearable to look at every day. Don't worry Chloe, I'll be with you real soon. Together and forever.
She focuses on it for a moment, as the picture of them hanging out at Max's old house back in Arcadia Bay resonates with her time powers. She can hear the unclear ghostly sounds of giggling coming from the picture before she deters her eyes away.
All of the sudden, her vision becomes a vortex of blurred color. When everything resides, she is no longer holding the picture. Her right arm twitches, accidentally scribbles a long dark mark across her worksheet with the pen in her hand. What the hell? She looks at her phone, swiping it off idle to see the clock reads "10:21 PM". The cup of cherry limeade is missing, and her worksheet is missing half of the writing.
Rachel… she just used her rewind powers. Something is wrong...
Her breaths quicken against the churning of her stomach. She grabs her phone, scrolling to 'Chloe Price.' Shit, should I text Chloe? No… I can't! She squeezes her eyes shut, trying her best to curb her tension down. Maybe it is nothing...
She quickly switches to her Facebook web browser tab on her laptop, searching for 'Rachel Dawn Amber' of Long Beach and Arcadia Bay, and hitting the 'Message' button. All the worst-case scenarios begin bubbling into her mind. Okay?! Maybe it is everything! I have to say something to her at least!
Max Caulfield: Hey Rach! It's Max. I figured we can talk to each other and keep in touch! :)
She clicks the button, sending the message. She then stares in awe at the beautiful profile picture of her. Rachel is wearing a purple cropped top and jeans, posing with the sunset behind her. She isn't smiling exactly, but her face looks majestic. The picture is probably taken by one of the many photography students at Blackwell Academy, that are dying to have a chance of a photo shoot with her. This is crazy… I reliving history, but now I know who Rachel is...
The silence breaks with a short series of knocking. "Come in," Max quickly tabs out of Rachel's profile.
"Here you go, honey… a cherry limeade! Hopefully, it makes you feel better." Ryan gently settles the cup down onto the coaster, then gives her daughter a quick peck at the temple.
"Thanks, Dad." She grins, gazing at the now full cherry limeade drink.
"If you need anything else, let me know!" He walks out the room, gently shutting the door behind him.
The sounds of her father's footsteps trail away, back to the chilling silence. Max is still preoccupied with the rewind of Rachel's. Fuck… If she's with Audrey, then she could be with Jefferson. But I think it is too early for when Rachel actually died… Fuck! Jefferson and Rachel are in love...
"Rachel not only gave great head shots… She gave... great heads." Jefferson's words from that awful nightmare sequence where Max had to evade her worst insecurities, tings into her mind, cascading into a shudder in her shoulders. She gulps into a grimace, letting out a soft whimper. Am I putting her through all of that?
Rachel Amber & Max Caulfield
Bay City : Jefferson Residence
March 20th, 2013 8:42 PM
The two-story house is located in the nearby neighboring coastal town of Bay City, along the 101 highway. The neighborhood has moderate-sized but extravagant looking houses that shine a bright nectarine-orange shade out of their windows. Each of them is very spaced out, providing ample amount of privacy among the residents.
The interior of the house has a slick modern look, contrasting with dark-colored cabinets with white textured walls. Ample amount of recessed lighting illuminates the kitchen area, while the man prepares the pasta and meat sauce on the stove top, for the simple but intimate dinner for two, while Audrey hiding upstairs by herself.
The man has removed his blazer, wearing the white-buttoned shirt for the warmer indoor temperature. He dries his hands on the gray towel hanging on the oven handle, moving over to the stereo system by the dining room to put on calm jazz songs from Jacqui Dankworth. He heads back to the stove, "I knew the meeting was going to run late, but I didn't know how late." He takes the cap off the saucepan, stirring the tomato sauce filled with generous chunks of meats, with a large wooden spoon. "And, I can hear your stomach growling from here. I'm sorry."
Rachel spaces out at the large wooden salad bowl that has chopped romaine lettuces, sliced red cherry tomatoes, black olives that she just tossed in. "It's fine…" She reaches over the bag of crumbled feta cheese and sprinkles it all over the salad bowl as one of the last ingredients for the Italian salad, that she is offering to assist with. So I'm going to make dinner with this smokin' hot teacher? She peers over the two warm, grilled chicken fillets, on the cutting board. "I'll cut the chickens. Where do you keep your knives?"
The man points to the direction of a kitchen drawer, off to the side of him. "Over there." He, then moves to the other side of the kitchen, digging in the cupboards.
Rachel walks over, pulling the kitchen drawer, and seeing a selection of knives. Looking at all of them, she picks the one that is most appropriate sized, gripping it in the air. She gazes at the knife, examining the sharpness of it. This guy is the dangerous psychopath that is a mentor to Nathan and responsible for my death in this timeline?
"Boo...," the man whispers heavily and deeply into her ears, grabbing from behind. All of Rachel's breaths get trapped in her lungs, recoiling from his sudden touch. Realizing it is him, she lets out a forced chuckle through her tense throat. He studies the sharp blade in her hand, "Be very… very careful... with that knife." His fingers caress her waist.
Rachel's body slowly shakes off the fright, but her chest still heaving hard from it. "Don't…" She inhales sharply, realizing she still doesn't know his name. "...do that." She puffs out some of the residual terrors from her lungs.
"Please forgive me…" He squeezes his hands tightly against her waist, pinching the elastic band of her underwear through her dress. He, then moves in closer, kissing repeatedly at her earlobe, working down to her jawbone, then to the side of the neck. Rachel's eyes become half-lidded, as her body lolls slightly from the tingling sensation of the moist lips of the man, falling into his warm embrace. A warm groan slips out of her throat, her mind is completely charmed by this man. He slides his left index finger, running it along the back of her strapless bra through her dress, and around, stopping just short of her left breast. The man sticks out the tongue, running it down her neck with ample amount of pressure. Her eyes squeeze closed, jaws dropping slightly opened, her face blossoming with redness. The man finally reaches over squeezing her left breast through the padding. The blonde's body does nothing to reject his action, as she gazes blankly ahead with her dull eyes, lips slightly parted with a drop of saliva on the verge of dribbling out due to her rising anticipation. As the throbbing between her legs demand for more, the man suddenly pulls away from Rachel coldly with a soft chuckle, returning back to his duty at the stove top.
Rachel feels the heat dissipating quickly from her, letting out a soft shudder of disappointment. She pinches her thighs together tightly, relieving some of the loss of heat. The trail of wetness along the side of her head is a lingering sensation of his touch. This body must be very captivated by this man. A part of me is deeply infatuated with him. She cranes her neck, looking at the man resuming to tend the pasta and the sauce. But he's a total creep...right? Her eyes scan down the man, seeing a facility identification card still clipped onto his jeans, but it is facing away, hiding his name. Maybe I can find out his name with that…
She presses her lips together, dropping the knife onto the kitchen counter, then making her way to behind the man. He senses her approaching empowering presence but remains in his bold posture. Rachel positions herself directly behind him, wetting her lips. Here goes nothing… She slowly wraps her arms around the man and squeezing him tight. Arching her back, and the help of her padded bra, she wiggles her breasts, pressing it firmly against the contours of his firm build body. Not needing to see his face, just the way his body squirm slightly against her tease, ignites the confidence in her. She glides the tip of her nose across his back, lifting it up to face the back of his head. There is a height difference between her and the man, but still whispering in a low, sultry voice up to his ear. "You're not the only one that can do the teasing…"
The man didn't verbally respond back, but his body is more and more tempted by the young woman's advances. Rachel swings her head around his body, with the facility card in her view. She grinds her breasts into his side, her left fingers, slowly crawls along his belt, also smoothly flicking the facility card over along the way. With patience, her fingers work towards making contact with the slight bulge in his jeans. She squeezes it repeatedly, feeling the forming shape of it underneath the rough jean material. The man lets out a content sigh from her massaging. "Mmm…" Rachel moans softly with each grab as she feels him slowly grow into her soft hand. "There you go…" she hums softly.
She dips her head closer, getting a good read on the facility card, while her left hand continues stroking. Mark Jefferson. Photography Teacher. Blackwell Academy.
The sizzling bubbles from both the pasta and the sauce grow in her peripheral vision, becoming more of an opportunity to halt her current action. She gazes into his eyes, whispering to him. "Don't you blow it into our food, Mark." She feels him give one last twitch underneath her hand, before she takes her hand off his pants, seeing the frustration quickly seeping into his normally suave face. The blonde struts with confidence with her hips, making her way back to cut the chicken. The man follows her beautiful curves that hug perfectly against the tight black dress. Rachel glances back at Mark, up and down his body, knowing exactly what he wants. She licks her lips, blowing him a kiss because she knows she can.
He pushes out a chuckle through his shuddering throat, resisting the urge to relieve his frustration.
Rachel waits patiently at her seat with her legs crossed. The dark brown, rustic yet trendy-looking dining table has two candles in the middle of the table, with a plate of pasta and another plate of salad on opposite end of the table. Almost all the lights are turned off now, with a set of candles in the dining table replacing for a more moody and intimate lighting. Looking at her body, Rachel again becomes energized with a blazing amount of confidence. I have never done that before… teasing a man like that. I watched porn and read smut all the damn time, but somehow I did that pretty smoothly… and I didn't feel at all embarrassed. Mark turns down the volume of the stereo system a smidge, to a nice relaxing ambient level. The playlist is still the smooth jazz from before. He looks back to the student, "What wine would you like? Red wines are safe bets with this pasta."
She presses her lips together, pondering with the choices. Rachel didn't drink much alcohol, but she replies back, "Yeah, that sounds great. Maybe a cab?"
Mark ducks down to the mini wine cooler, pulling out a bottle of cabernet, and picking up two wine glasses and a corkscrew. He brings them all back to the dining table. He uncorks the bottle, "I was looking forward to whiskey after the meeting. Like a bourbon. But this wine does sound pleasant." His eyes meet with Rachel's, "And a night to spend with your beautiful eyes."
Rachel rests her face delicately on her opened hands, forming a smile. She dodges his compliment, "You really didn't have a good time with the meeting? Can you tell me more about it?"
He pulls the cork out, creating a sharp pop. "Just a parent-son meeting." He pours out a generous amount of the dark crimson liquid into both glasses. "You can imagine how obnoxious people can be." He settles the bottle back to the table, taking one of the glass and handing it politely to the blonde.
Rachel takes the cup, giving a quick swirl to it, before taking a sip of it and licking her lips. She comments on the bitter, but flavorful taste. "It's good." She sets down the glass right by her plate of pasta. "So, do I know this student?"
Mark sits back in his chair, placing the napkin on his lap. "Standard confidentiality protocol. I can't give out names, Rach." He lifts his fork, finally digging into his pasta.
Rachel scoffs under her breath, giving a soft shake to her head, to whirl her blue-jay earring. She, also begins digging into her pasta, "You don't trust me?"
The teacher replies back quickly, without lifting his head, "Do you trust me?"
She twirls her fork, getting some spaghetti drenched in the meat sauce. "If you want this relationship to work out, we will have to trust each other." She sticks her fork into her mouth, munching on the food, with content.
He sets his fork down on the table mat, chewing on the last bits of food in his mouth. "What…" He swallows, then wiping his mouth with the napkin. "...do you exactly expect from our relationship?" Mark picks up his wine glass, giving it a swirl in his hand. "It was you that called me out after our photo shoot. It was you that approached me with the first kiss." He takes a moderate sip of his wine, letting out a soft satisfying sigh. "Granted, I accepted because you are a beautiful, stunning and smart girl. But I can sense something troubling in you."
She stares on with an unfocused gaze, "Really? Are you some sort of doctor?"
The teacher leans back, relaxing into his chair. He smiles, "I've always been interested in the psychological development of people. I may not have an official backing to it, but I like to analyze people like a doctor would. This camera... " His eyes drifts to his large camera bag, resting on top of the table by the front door. "...is how I capture my subjects. I always want to see how people truly are with it." His eyes give a distant stare, "I've been a photographer for too long to just see a person on a purely superficial level. I like to see more into my subject." His eyes blink, centering back into them. "...I want to see the inside of them."
She sneers at him, "Okay… you're a creep."
He nods his head slightly, "Yes, well... it does sound very weird. But seriously, something has been holding you up. I can see it in your eyes. Something that frightens you. Or perhaps, something is inciting the fury in your beautiful hazel eyes."
"What is there to say?" Rachel leans back, crossing her arms, firmly. She glances at the teacher through the small flame of the candle in front of her. He is still waiting patiently for her answer. She holds out her right hand, emitting soft red flames, as she focuses on it. Deterring from the conversation for the moment, becoming preoccupied with herself. I have my powers, but I can feel that I've drained most of my powers with that six months trip… Was it worth it? She clenches it, forming into a hemisphere of sparkling fire. My powers are strong, but yet I'm so weak and pathetic. What holds me back? Rachel returns her stony gaze back at the teacher, "Maybe I'm just very disappointed in myself. Or just disappointed in others."
He gives another swirl to his cup, "Someone as popular and gorgeous as you are, one would think there's no reason for you to be. Or perhaps…" He takes a large sip from his glass, almost emptying it. "...something that holds you from your dreams. Perhaps, of hitting it big and becoming a model in Los Angeles."
She looks back to his inquiring eyes but then shies away, unable to keep eye contact. I had a vague idea with our earlier talks that this Rachel wanted to be a model in this timeline. I don't know what I wanted to do with my life but definitely not modeling. Never had the confidence or wanted to be on display for others. She looks down at her body, seeing how beautiful and presentable she can be. But then again, I'm much different here. "Maybe… I'm just too nice or losing sight of myself. People just let me down, or turn their backs to me when I needed them the most."
He stands up from his chair, reaching for the bottle to pour himself another glass of wine. Mark offers some more wine, signaling Rachel to chug down more than half of her glass. She swallows the last gulp, then handing him the empty glass. "I don't like to bring this up again. But your father who you caught red-handed with a girl that is almost your age…"
Her spine stiffens. Dad…did that? A part of her hopes to disassociate herself from this Rachel, but this is one person that they both shared and looked up to dearly. And to find out for him to be a total sleaze in this timeline when he is alive is crushing for her. Her eyes shuffle back and forth, as she clenches tightly the fork in her hand. She didn't know exactly what her father did, but she has a good idea now. "Y-yeah…" She forces it out her thick throat. What the fuck?
A sly smile emerges on his face, "I won't talk anymore about that. Obviously, that is a big one." He observes in delight, at the sight of the beautiful girl getting torn apart by his provoking words. "How you put on your A-game to become friends with everyone. But still… people are absolutely jealous with all of your… gifts. Or just use you for their own amusement. And you having to escape the school to get high with that obnoxious drama aching friend of yours… You never told me her name."
Rachel blinks slowly, steadying her breaths from the fuming fire inside her. She isn't quite sure who he is referring to, thinking it could be Chloe. So she makes up a name. "Joy…"
"Joy, huh?" He nods softly, then he resumes eating his pasta.
Rachel feigns away, casually picking up her wine glass, sensing the dissatisfaction in the air between them. Her eyes become lost in the dark crimson pool of liquid in her cup. People like Victoria are just total bitches, huh? She takes a nervous sip from the pool. People are just using me, getting what they want before they're done with me? Like Max? She wets her lips, "Do you ever feel unsatisfied with your life? That there's much more of a purpose to it?"
He finishes chewing the food in his mouth, "All the time."
"All the time? Really?…"
"Yes…" He rests his fork onto the table. "For all my life I've always done photography. It was my passion and dream. People always sees me as a hero or a master of my craft. But deep down inside, I was never content."
"Do you feel like you hit a wall?"
He chuckles, "More like running into a brick wall. I have realized it isn't always how I frame the shot or how well I utilize the lighting. There's always a huge limiting factor…"
She stirs around her pasta with her fork, "What's that?"
"My shots are only as good as the model."
Rachel nods her head slowly, "That makes sense. Model selection is a big part of photography. Like how attractive and photogenic they are?" She didn't study photography but there are experiences and thoughts she can give out.
He lets out a deep sigh. "Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. Sorry, to use such a huge cliche phrase. But the metric that the general public measure by is how much confidence, the models can exhibit. Or rather how cynical they can be, if you ask me." He swallows his throat, "You remember my lecture about Diane Arbus?"
Rachel raises her eyebrows in a comedic fashion. No idea who that person is. She snorts sarcastically, "Sure, I do."
He lets out a hearty laugh, "I won't drill you on the details during our time together. But how she saw beauty in models that are normally rejected like marginalized people?"
"So you like to explore beauty in those people?" She curls her index and middle fingers into a quote mark gesture. "Weird or out of ordinary people?"
"Not exactly… I just think there is a beauty that can be seen beyond the mainstream media."
"Well, there is an audience for everything. So you are correct." Rachel ponders a little bit, recalling her knowledge of online photos and articles. "For example, when there's a huge disaster that strikes a town, like a tornado. Photographers scramble to take pictures of the damage. The most heartbreaking and emotional ones are the ones that suffered devastating losses. Ironically, those can be the most beautiful pictures."
"Precisely. When a person who normally doesn't think anything bad could possibly happen to them… Then when it does. That moment... " His voice is very engaging. "...is what I would like to capture. As dark as it sounds."
"So you like them to be more naive, or perhaps innocent?" She takes a swig of her wine, relaxing her mind more, as she recalls the story from Max. "Are you saying there's beauty in vulnerability?"
"Yes." He gets up from his seat with his glass and walks right up behind the blonde. Her heart rate races at the lack of immediate visibility of him. Mark kneels down, joining Rachel and whispering into her ear, "Our emotions and expressions are generally normalized to a certain standard by society. When a camera is pointing at us, we're generally forced to recycled and familiar expressions. Nothing that comes deep from our soul. Only when an event that doesn't occur in a typical day, can trigger some of those almost unfathomable emotions. Like losing someone..."
Rachel's eyes drift to the side, letting out a soft giggle, "Is this why voyeurism is a popular fetish?"
Mark snickers, "Yes, some people relate this with a prurient curiosity. Because in anything erotic, there is an overwhelming amount of impulses and emotions that leave the body in a vulnerable state… Like this." He gently turns Rachel's head over, kissing her with passion. He sticks his tongue, twirling all around inside her mouth, and drawing her breaths. His firm hands, rubs up and down her inner thigh, sending a tingling quiver to her feet and her eyes. He stops, taking immediate note, "Your eyes… how I just see only the whiteness of it, when you were shivering in lust. Your feet… how it quiver despite your will of remaining stationary. Sorry…" Mark gives a quick peck on Rachel's cheek. "But that is what I'm talking about." He gets back up, and move back to the wine bottle, filling up another glass. "Or at least somewhat…"
Rachel shudders out the warmth on her body, "Maybe you should try erotic photography."
He scoffs with distaste, "You know that's totally bullshit and fake. They're just actors and actresses that are forcing out some certain cookie-cutter expressions. As long as someone is willing to masturbate to it, they can collect their paycheck."
Rachel snorts a half-assed laugh, nodding her head. She takes a big gulp from her wine glass, starting to feel the effect of the buzz. "Maybe it is the empowerment to be behind that camera while capturing that moment."
"Power… is a very interesting thought. Sometimes power is how well you exploit the weaknesses of others. Others, people have an innate talent for it." He takes a sip from his glass, and head back to Rachel with the wine bottle, filling her empty glass. "And with those eyes, I can see you have power and determination, Rachel."
She looks at the red liquid being poured into her glass, "Power is useless if you're too weak or too kind to utilize it."
"It's true… people can take away your powers. But in general, never hesitate. Always take the shot." He finishes emptying the bottle, handing the glass back to Rachel for her to take a quick sip from it. "I know society these days will just banish people for saying this… but I didn't want Audrey. Especially not with Audrey's mother."
Rachel gives steady contact on Mark's cold stare. "You didn't want her at all?"
"At first, I thought my passion for photography, the very thing that invigorates me every time I wake up to this world, was going to be taken away. It is what drives my life. It sounds sad, but just having only money and fame doesn't cut it with me. Not anymore." He put his glass on the table, tucking his hands in his pockets. "Granted, my passion and my power have made me a rather deadbeat father. Will it last forever? Definitely not, but until then, this is the road I'm taking."
She nods her head, agreeing with his words. "I can understand that. Not everyone is as polished as what their reputation gives out." She wets her lips, "What if your gift and powers make other people upset or envious?"
Mark shakes his head, "People always sees your gift and talents as a weapon of pride. Ernest Hemingway said 'There is nothing noble in being superior to your fellow man; true nobility is being superior to your former self.'" He sets his glass down, not breaking his eye contact from the blonde. "So, use your talents to drive your life forward to become better than you ever were in the past. Always do it for yourself… never for others. Because it can an eternity before someone even gives a shit about you."
Rachel rubs her knuckles into her chin, pondering. Her eyes dip down. Am I thinking too much about saving other people? And not myself? A vortex heat ignites into her anxious mind. Her chaotic train of thoughts leads into another subject. "Mark… what happened to Audrey's mother?"
The teacher licks his lips, with a blank stare. "She committed suicide." Rachel blinks owlishly at his words. Suicide? She thinks back to the other reality, where she already sealed her suicide note in the envelope. Finishing the final preparations to depart from the cold and unforgiving world. Rachel glances at the blue star, who starts to look moist, as a cut emerges on the skin. "Hey, Rach…" He quickly walks over, grabbing her napkin to gently squeeze her nose with it. "Your nose is bleeding…"
"Oh…" Her voice is muffled, as she takes the napkin away from him, applying pressure to it. "I'm fine…" Her eyes gaze at her left wrist, finding that the blood from her wrist is all an illusion.
He points down the hallway, "Are you sure? The bathroom is right there if you need it." Mark helps her get up from her chair.
"I got it, thanks." She nods her head, gently breaking apart from his grasp, making a quick bee-line toward the bathroom.
Rachel shoves the door opened into the bathroom, scrambling straight for the sink. The room is well maintained with the familiar white textured wall from the rest of the house. On the towel bar, hangs several clean olive towels. The room smells of apple caramel from the burning candle in the room.
She settles down the napkin to the side and turns on the faucet to rinse out the lingering blood on her nose and fingers. The bleeding actually didn't last long.
"I was left alone… to rot for six months. You're going to die, too. You wasted all your powers to bring her back for that ungrateful bitch." The voice is calling to her again. Her own voice.
"No… I fucked up in my timeline. This is my chance to redeem myself as a person." Rachel snaps at the mirror, letting out an anguished sigh.
"The real Rachel cured herself by changing her past. That's why she is in every way better than you are."
Her reflection blurs for a moment, fading in the other's Rachel reflection. The one with the long red scratch across the neck, the deep bleeding gash from her left wrist, and corpse-blue colored bruises on her face. She is still wearing her black dress, but there are holes around her belly area with blood dripping out of it. They are wounds from the stabbing she got from Corbin in the previous timeline. This is her true form. The disturbed Rachel that she wants to leave behind.
"This is how you really look like. You're sick. Your soul is cheerless, yet somehow your heart is full of care for these people. Why don't you use your powers to make the future you want?"
"Go… away" Rachel's voice strains through her breath. Her face drifts away, rejecting the terrifying reflection. Her hands come close together, as an image of Maxine suddenly appears kneeling in front of her, with her neck in between Rachel's hands. She is slowly being strangled to death, choking all the oxygen from her breaths. She gags violently, hurling any saliva left from her mouth, onto the tightly clenched hands of Rachel's. Maxine's eyes flutter rapidly, alternating between the pale and fleshy white, and the drowned sea blue eyes. Her jaw muscles finally relax, her lips parting away slightly. Her eyes gaze back as if she is looking at the only light from under the dark ocean.
The blonde glares down with a stony expression, at the lifeless stare from her own best friend. She tries to release the grip, but her hands refuse to fidget. Maxine's blood relents from the surface of the skin, leaving a blue hue to her pale skin. Pure innocence forms nicely with her beautiful deathly stare. It is gorgeous, like what Jefferson said. Rachel is capturing this very moment with her eyes, like a camera.
A knock on the wooden door behind her, follow with it creaking open. Mark sticks his curious head in, "Rachel, are you okay?"
Rachel cranes her neck slowly, looking over her shoulder with a nonchalant stare. "I'm fine…" She blinks slowly, as this psychotic episode slowly dials down. "...but I need to go home."
Mark opens the rest of the door, giving a full closer look to her. Sensing an irregular presence inside her. "You sure?"
She nods her head, not wanting to say anymore.
Rachel slowly creaks open the door into the little girl's room on the second floor. It is small, almost seems like it could be a storage room. But somehow it is able to fit her bed, a small computer desk, and a medium-sized television, among the stacks of cardboard boxes cluttering around the room.
The little girl is holding a plastic white steering wheel, playing Mario Kart on the Wii. She lifts her head, over a stack of boxes. "Sissy! How was dinner?" Audrey pauses the game, propelling herself onto her feet with youthful energy.
"Hey… little sis." Rachel pushes out awkwardly through her throat. Her mind is still unraveled from that clashing of memories. My own inner demon was trying to mess with my head. But that memory of strangling Maxine to almost her death in my timeline… I never remembered it since I fast-forwarded through time. But I just saw it in that bathroom. Was that really what happened? While her stomach feels like it is rolling inside her, seeing the little brunette puts a small glimmer in her deathly eyes. She swallows, to ease the ache at the back of her throat. "Oh... it was delicious. Your Dad can make some good pasta."
"Oh, yummy." Her eyes light up in delight. "Maybe I can have some leftovers later."
Rachel's eyebrows arch up, remembering Audrey basically locked herself up in her room the minute they entered the house. "Oh that's right, you didn't get a chance to eat." She pouts her lips, "You should come downstairs to eat some right now. I can heat it up for you."
"It's okay, I ate some pop tarts." She rubs her belly, showing her satisfaction. She then points at the plate with remaining crumbs on it. "Do you want to play some Mario Kart? I have another controller. I can give you the steering wheel."
"I would love to…" Rachel glances at the paused screen with the goofy green dinosaur, Yoshi. It strikes some old nostalgia with the older Mario games. She curbs the urge to make herself comfortable at the welcoming spot right beside Audrey on the bed, to play the mindless fun racing game. "...but I should get going." The blonde squeezes the little girl's cheek, making her giggle in silence. She is very adorable. How can a girl be so innocent and pure? With her mother committed suicide and to be raised by a deadbeat psycho? The blonde turns her attention to the red stuffed dragon that is purposely positioned right by her, staring at the little girl, like a curious and protective pet. "Audrey, when did you get that stuffed dragon?"
The little girl sighs in a joking way, "Yes… Thanks again... Rachel! For winning me the dragon today. Yeesh… You have to keep rubbing it in…" She grins, baring her teeth.
"That's what I do…but you're welcome." Rachel comes up with a quick witty reply. Cool! I did get her that as a gift.
"I know. This is almost as cool as your tattoo." She points at red dragon tattoo on the smooth calf of the beautiful blonde.
"Hey, I won it for you. So you will always remember me." Rachel walks over to the stuffed animal, playing with the mouth in a funny way.
"I know." Audrey presses her lips together tightly, giving a short hesitation. Then, she finally spills it out, "Sissy, will you marry my Dad?"
"What?" Rachel's eyes shoot wide opened.
"Oh… uhh.. maybe it is too soon, huh? Nevermind!" She lifts both her hands, shaking them in an adorable way. "I just… really like you. And I don't ever want to see you go away from me." She suddenly becomes timid with a slight blush.
"Aww…I like you too. I'm never leaving you." Rachel takes a steady breath, thinking that she did leave her when Jefferson murdered her. She comes close and giving her a kiss on the cheek. "Hey… is everything alright with you and your Dad?"
"Oh...sure." She looks dearly into Rachel, then at her door, making sure her father isn't there. She whispers. "It is just Dad is always busy. Sometimes he comes home late, and I have to fend for myself."
Rachel looks over her shoulder, also making sure Mark isn't behind her. She whispers, "I think that's normal for a teacher of his status."
"He also talks on the phone with people. He always avoids me. Like it is important." Audrey dips her head, even closer. "Please don't tell this to Daddy."
Rachel nods, "Yeah, I won't say anything." She makes a zipping hand gesture over her lips, promising to keep her secret. "But I have to go, now."
"Aww…" Audrey throws both of her arms up, signaling Rachel to kneel down for a hug. "Bye, Sissy! Text me when you get home!"
"Bye, little Sis! I will!" Rachel gives one last kiss to her forehead, before letting go of her tiny hands, to join downstair where Mark is waiting patiently.
Rachel Amber & Max Caulfield
101 North
March 20th, 2013 10:20 PM
The drive back to Arcadia Bay is quiet with the smooth purring from the Bentley Flying Spur. The large bay looks like a huge abyss as the deep night settles in. It is rather a pleasant sight to let your eyes get lost in the beautiful void. However, to view this grandeur vista, Rachel would have to look awkwardly passed Mark, who hasn't said too much during the ride. It is an abrupt ending to the night in which was expecting much more.
Rachel reads an upcoming sign on the side of the road: Arcadia Bay - 5 miles
I definitely caused a big shift in this timeline. I know Mark and I were supposed to fuck tonight. I never knew how I felt around guys, but… I guess I feel fine. Rachel makes a quick peek at the handsome teacher, who looks very natural despite the given result of the date. A part of me wants him. Badly. I was madly in love with him, at least in a lustful way. She blinks her eyes, still gazing deeply into his calm and cool face. Is he really that bad of a guy? Or was there some mistake? I should listen to Max's warning.
She gulps her throat, stiffening her posture. But… what if she's wrong? At least with some of the stuffs? Rachel holds out her right hand, casting out a red flame, as she gazes deeply at it with furrowed eyebrows. Sick of feeling lost and confused, she wants to make use of her abilities, which is something that the other Rachel didn't have the luxury of. "Why do you drug the girls?"
Mark grips uneasily onto the steering wheel. He glances over at the blonde who is gazing absently ahead at the dark winding road. "What?"
"Taking pictures of them while they are drugged. With Nathan Prescott as your accomplice. It all makes sense now, you're abusing a rich kid for your damn goals."
"Did Nathan…" He wets his lips, "...tell you this?"
Rachel turns her body to face him, sitting sideways against the leather seat. "Nah." She shakes her long hair, giving a steady bold stare to the teacher, who is still calm, and focusing on the road. "Six months from now, Nathan murders Chloe Price, who is a very good friend of mines at Blackwell Academy. This basically unravels your secret to the public. Nathan is going to reveal everything about you. He is sick of hustling drugs and all the abuse from you, to satisfy your fetish. You are also going to jail for the murder of me." She takes a deep breath, as that sentence actually sends a chill into her soul. "You're going to rot and get raped in prison like the fucking shit you are. Audrey is going to a foster home with a horny scumbag. You also drugged two girls that are very important to me. One who attempted suicide, because her life spiraled downward, thanks to being a result of your passion and power."
The teacher lets out a chuckle under her breath, "Are you sure you were just doing pot with Frank?"
Rachel scolds at him, "Say what you want, asshole. I can instantly rewind all of this, so you don't even remember what I said. If you think I'm bluffing, am I not telling the truth that you're drugging them to capture their innocence? And also notice how I'm not at all afraid of telling you all of this… right in front of a total psychopath." She holds out her readied right hand, preparing to rewind time if anything happens.
Sensing the seriousness in her tone, but Mark is still feeling incredulous. There is a short moment of dead silence as he ponders on what to say next while focusing on the road. He blinks owlishly, replying in a low sardonic tone, "So, you are from the future?"
"Yes. But I'm actually not even from this timeline. I'm not even the same Rachel that you know. I jumped from my timeline to take over this body temporary. I'm going to change everything and make the future better. And more importantly, you're going to die."
He scoffs, "Multiple timelines, now?" His expression is rather nonchalant with the reveal of the supernatural ability. "I knew there was something a little off about you tonight. Shame… I really miss tugging of that beautiful hair of yours, as you suck on my cock."
Rachel's eyebrows twitch at the insult of her counterpart. "Don't worry, you're going to be forced to suck on someone else's dick in prison."
"So… different Rachel… but same father, right?" Rachel presses her lips together at his words. Her heart quickens, as her stomach rolls in place. Mark senses all of this. "The same father that brought home a barely legal girl… with long blonde hair… and hazel eyes." He turns his eyes away from the road for a quick moment, to grin at the blonde. "In other words, you father wanted to fuck you. Did you know that?" Rachel clenches her teeth through her lips. "Oh… that struck a nerve, didn't it?"
"Fuck you…" Her voice is soft, but slowly fuming with anger. "...you're a damn psychopath. You're just making this all up."
"So you didn't know this, huh? Did you…" He blinks rapidly, with a condescending expression. "...just jumped into this Rachel's body tonight?"
Rachel wets her lips, but even with flaring eyes, she has nothing to say.
"Huh…" Mark nods his head. "Your mother was away visiting your aunt for a week. You were on break, staying home in Long Beach." He traces his finger along the steering wheel, "...and your father didn't know that. You woke up in the middle of the night, to the sound of moaning and slurping." Rachel's face shivers into a grimace. He notes this, letting out a laugh, but still, maintains a steady contact with her furious eyes. "You sneak downstairs to find your father ramming his cock into the young lady's face. He wishes it was you sucking, though." He points at her, "I bet you wanted it too. That's why you go for older men, like both me and Frank."
He's putting the blame on me. They're just lies. This guy is just playing with my mind. However, Rachel still cannot heed her own warnings, as she digs her nails deep into her fleshy skin, till it glows pale, "Fuck you."
"And you told all of this to your mother. How humiliating that must have been. For her to move to Arcadia Bay to be closer to you and away from your father in Long Beach."
Max gave me Mom's address. I remembered we were living in Long Beach the last time I was in this timeline. "I'm not believing anything you're saying."
"Judging from the tears in your eyes, you are. Because you know it." Rachel's eyes are teary, as the rage is spilling into sorrow, as well. "To have all that optimism and future, to be all burnt away."
"Pull over the car…" Rachel snarls at him, "...Right now!"
"As you wish…" He casually pulls over the car off the side of the road, gradually slowing down to a complete halt. He puts the car into parking gear.
Rachel quickly unbuckles her seat belt. "You fucking shit! I'm going to kill you!" She explodes with ferocity, slamming her fist straight into his temple, sending him instantly in a dazed state. The sudden jerk of his head causes his glasses to fall off his face. This isn't the first time she gave a brutal beating to someone. She continues wailing on him with repeated blows scattering across his head. Mark actually doesn't do much to defend against the attacks, as his head recoils sharply against the impact of the blows and rebounding back for more. A few of her strikes land squarely at his nose, triggering a torrential stream of blood to spill down his face, and splattering his white buttoned shirt. The blonde halts her unrelenting assault that stirred the demon within her. Her breaths are heavy, and fatigue slowly seeping in all over her body. But at the same time, she is shocked at the resilience of the psychopath. "What the fuck?…" She falls back to her seat with her stinging bruised knuckles, then looking at the bloodied teacher.
Mark expels a laugh through his panting breaths and bloody clenched teeth. "You're so beautiful. But no, Rachel… I had no intentions of drugging you like my girls. You may have the naive optimism that all the other girls I enjoy. But you're too impure and corrupted." His breaths are uneasy and heavy, as his face is aching in pain. "How well do you even know Nathan?"
"I know him. So fuck you." She hisses back at him with bitterness.
"Not enough. He, on the other hand… like everyone in the fucking school... wants a piece of your cunt. But you shove him aside." His voice squeals, mocking him. "He said he doesn't want to be another loser in this world. And he wants to be better than his fathers. Both Sean… and me." He glares deeply into the blonde with his dark glassy eyes. "Who do you think gets the drug for me?"
"You're twisting his mind. He looked up to you. I know you're the one that fucking killed me."
His pupils constrict as his eyes widen like he is making a discovery. "Your eyes is so furious. Yet, it is just as naive as my subjects. Perhaps, you're right… it is me." He flutters his eyes closed, holding out his hand, which is trembling in pain. "You're right, it isn't Nathan. He would never do such a thing to you. He also never gets jealous that you're spending time with me, and not him. No envy ever comes out from that lunatic… especially when you asks me to take the photos instead of him. But..." He opens his eyes back up, "He will one day, try to surpass me. He won't but he will try. And that will be his mistake." Mark makes a gesture with his hand of a syringe injecting into a body. "I know the right dosage. Enough where the girl isn't squirming like they're aching to cum all over herself. But also… not enough where they are dead."
His low voice sends a rumbling chill into Rachel. Her rigid muscles stiffen, "You're the real creep. I'm sure of it. If I need to, I'll take down Nathan too."
"Sure…" He nods his head, through his clenched teeth. "So you come from the future? My daughter also becomes a bag of meat for someone?" He says it, with such coldness in his tone. He has no feelings or remorse for his own daughter. And the thought of it just sends a twitching fury into the blonde. This fucker doesn't even care about Audrey at all...
Rachel clenches her fist, resisting the urge to slam it again into his skull. "No… I'm going to adopt her. Take her away from scum like you."
"You can do whatever the fuck you want with her." Mark snorts through her nose, as his blood mixes with the mucus, dripping from his nostrils. "So earlier you were saying you're unsatisfied with your life. Well, it makes a lot of sense, if you're jumping through timelines to do all this shit." Rachel's eyebrows twitch, as he talking on the same page as she is. His head tilts back in fascination. "Oh… I see weaknesses."
"You bitch... I have people..."
"You have no one haha. Only a lonely starving cunt like you would bother this. To help another version of you in a totally different world..." Rachel shakes her head in disapproval but not saying a word. Mark capitalizes that his guess is striking the right chord into the soul of the blonde. "Oooh...Yes! That face… I love it!"
"Fuck you…"
"It's true! I can see the loneliness and despair mixing with the fury in your eyes!" His eyes widen, "Wow, you're the pathetic Rachel. The virgin Rachel."
"Shut the fuck up…" She forces through her thick throat, her shoulders tightening. "I'm going to take you down."
"Are you?" He exhales through his stinging breaths. "Do you know where my real hideout is?"
Rachel presses her lips together firmly. She actually doesn't know anything about his hideout or the full details. "No… but I can text her for that location if I need to."
"Her, huh? So where is this person?" His head scans around his surrounding mockingly. "You really don't know anything, huh? She wants you to be a hero, but do you really feel like one?"
"So what? I trust her…" Rachel's eyes is not focused, as her face quivers slightly.
"I don't think you do." Mark senses her uneasiness. "Did I break your heart? You can tell me, my angel." He pouts his lips, in a false mocking pity. "The person who told you all of this… is she doing it to save you or for herself?"
Rachel blinks rapidly, as the tears in her eyes cloud her vision. "She's doing for all of us."
"Wrong…" Mark grunts through her deep breath. "Everyone are in it for only themselves. There are no heroes in this world." His voice suddenly calms down, "Tell me, do you have a home after you accomplish what you need to do here?"
Her body hunches over, as her mind becomes more receiving to his words. The crazy Rachel isn't just a shadow to this perfect girl anymore. Her toxic and ill thoughts are starting to take over this mind and body. She mutters softly, "No… I don't..."
Mark nods solemnly, still aching through his throbbing pain. "Then it will be the end of the road for both of us. Everyone else will have their way." His breaths calm down, as he gazes straight ahead of the road. "Such a shame… with everything you are doing and all that powers." His voice is calm and almost serene for the psycho he is. In the end, it seems like he could be possibly believing Rachel's words about everything. Being observant of the dinner conversation and all her body language, he can piece the fragments of Rachel's mind. Perhaps, this is something he can do skillfully as the manipulative psycho he is.
Her eyes quiver at the thought of his words, causing her to sob softly. She clenches her hair locks tightly, yanking them as hard as she can without peeling it off her scalp. The pain on the top of her skull isn't enough to curb the seething chaos in her mind.
Mark stares blankly into the windshield, unaffected by the stinging pain in his skull. The blood on his face becoming more cold and dry, slowing its advance in his beard.
The rising amount of resentment fuels Rachel urge to inflict further pain on this body and this timeline. Through her pained breaths, she curbs his seething anger. No… I can't… Unable to take this any longer, she holds out her hand, channeling the energy to rewind. Everything moves rapidly backward, starting with Rachel throwing her several punches to all the way back when the car is in motion. However, there seems like a slight tear in her vision, as she recognizes it being the backyard of Chloe's house. She scans to the left, seeing that her left wrist no longer have the star tattoo, instead, the large gash is there. The bandage has fallen off, and it is bleeding even more. She lets out a loud gasp, through her disorientation, halting all the whirling shapes.
"Rach, are you okay?" Mark grips tightly on the steering wheel, glancing over at the preoccupied student. His face is completely clean again, showing an increasingly amount of genuine concerns. Rachel grips her arms uneasily, shivering off the flood of emotions from impacting her body again. He reaches over the climate control of the car, turning up a few degrees. "You look cold…"
"No… I'm fine." She mumbles through her mouth and crossing her arms. She looks at the underside of her arm, seeing the tattoo is there and that she is no longer bleeding. Her hair and body are perfectly fine as the self-abuse has been rewound. But the phantom pain still lingers in her mind. But seeing that glimpse of the other timeline in Chloe's backyard troubles her. Fuck, I think using my powers is tearing apart my real body.
She looks out the window and seeing a familiar road sign passing by. Arcadia Bay - 5 miles
Rachel Amber & Max Caulfield
Arcadia Bay : Blackwell Academy - Outside
March 20th, 2013 10:32 PM
Rachel shuffles in her heels along the dark path to Blackwell Academy, as Jefferson dropped her off a short distance from school to avoid suspicions from the students and staffs. The breeze of coldness reinforces the loneliness in her spine. She hunches her body, huddling underneath her small black jacket, with chattering teeth.
Could Nathan be the one that killed me? But Max said it was the Mark… but maybe she's not sure? Shit… I don't really know anymore. I can't trust anyone's words. I can't trust Max. And I definitely can't trust Mark.
She pulls her phone out of her purse, seeing that she got a few text messages and a notification from Facebook.
"You have a new message in your 'Other' mailbox"
This notification catches her attention over the unread text messages. She launches the app, checking her inbox.
Max Caulfield: Hey Rach! It's Max. I figured we can talk to each other and keep in touch! :)
She stares blankly at the bright screen, scoffing at it. She tightens her grip on the phone, as the tendons emerge in her arms. Max… fuck you. You got your parents and Chloe back already. What is there to talk about? She lets out a sigh, pressing the phone to her forehead, trying to calm herself down. Resisting any more toxic thoughts, she shoves the phone back into her purse. She continues walking back to Blackwell Academy, without checking her phone.
She approaches the yard in front of the dormitory. The wind is still brushing loudly against the leaves around the perimeter of the opened area. Rachel looks at the center of the yard, where both her and Max were sitting there together for the first time. The first time they touched each other. She grasps at her body, to both warm herself up and relishing the happier moments with Max.
That was before my life went to shit in my timeline. She walks up the steps, through the double doors, and up the stairs to the second floor.
The second-floor hallway has some small signs of life, with the sounds of music being muffled through the doors. The common area by the stairway seems to have someone in it, watching television. Rachel didn't want to draw any attention if she can avoid it. She walks casually in the shadows of the hallway.
Room 224, here it is… Can't wait to just lie down and end this long awful night.
She digs her keys out of the purse. Luckily, there aren't too many different keys to try out before finding the right brass-colored one. She enters the door and quickly let it close behind her.
Rachel turns on the lights, kicking off her heels and scanning all around in her new home. The room has a rope light that dangles the full width of the room. Along the rope are photos clipped onto it. Pictures are mostly in pairs, with her and Chloe. As well as Nathan, Victoria, and a few other unrecognizable people. Rachel is very popular, and keeping all these friends close to her seems important to her. The walls are white colored but the colored desk lamps give it a pink-peach aura. There are posters of punk rock bands, as well as a poster that says 'Welcome to Hollywood'.
Rachel stares on in awe, quite the contrast with her lonely and dead apartment. This room is vibrant, combined with the slightly muffled noises of music and chattering through the walls showing hints there are other people in Rachel's life. And that she is never alone. Rachel closes her eyes, letting the gentle cool air conditioning soothes her warm body. This is...my home. This Rachel didn't dwell on the past. I need to calm down as well...at least for now...
She walks over to the dresser, that has a large mirror over it. She closes her eyes, taking a deep breath. No more fucking visions. Relax… She opens them back up, straightening up her posture, feeling a sense of calmness carrying her body. Rachel removes the straps off her shoulders and unzips her black dress, letting it slip off cleanly down to the floor. The sultry girl gives a few poses, observing her body.
The cool air of the room settles down on her smooth skin, gently caressing it and leaving goosebumps. She traces a finger along the outline of her bra, then brushing her fingers against the cups, feeling the softness of her material. Her hand then slowly glides down across her body, touching every curve along her fit belly, and right down to her black panty. Even despite the harsh confrontation of Jefferson, her body still yearns for his. Her hand feels around the soft sheer material of her panty, her mouth quivers at the sensations.
My body was really craving Mark… But…fuck him. Her eyes lift up to the blank ceiling, recalling her recent memory of kissing Max in that anomaly in the backyard. Her tongue slowly comes out, as she imagines she is running it along Max's jawbone, and visualizing the shy girl to squirming and moaning in pure enjoyment. Ignoring all her toxic thoughts about Max, Rachel steadies her breath, honing in on the warm and tender memory of shy hipster in her mind. Her finger traces down until arriving at her mound through the soft material of her panty. She gives a roll of her finger over it, sending a shocking tingle and digging her toes into the carpet. The soft material shifts over her sensitive parts, as she flutters her eyes closed. She hums softly to herself, focusing her fingers, to create a circular ripple in her panty that rub against her slit. She puffs out a gasp.
Someone knocks on the door, halting her pleasure and the heat. She lets out a frustrating sigh through the disappearing flush on her face.
Fuck me… Ugh, maybe I was getting a little too comfortable. I should get used to this Rachel's life. Her throat utters another sigh of disappointment, as the heat leaves from between her legs. "One moment," she articulates rather clearly through her trembling throat. I may have gone a different path from this Rachel, but she is still part of me.
Not wanting to dig through her closet, she carefully puts back on the delicate dress, not zipping the back up all the way, and relying on the two straps for support. She makes to the brown door, opening it slowly.
A blonde girl with a blue cardigan, white buttoned shirt, and gray skirt stands behind the door. She is also carrying a messenger bag and a large backpack. The visitor looks back with her unsteady eyes. "H-Hi, My name…" she stammers her sentence, gulping her throat. Her hands shakily hold up a box of cookies. "Sorry to bother you at this time. This is a fundraiser from uh… New Dawn Church. Would you like a box of uh…" She turns the box over to read the content on the box, then her eyes return back to the slightly flustered blonde girl. "...Mint Crisp! So yeah...would you like…" Her voice halts from the engulfing silence emanating from Rachel, causing her to wince and retreating a few steps back.
"No, I don't have any money for cookies," Rachel grumbles under her throat, not giving much eye contact.
The blonde's head sinks downward, "No problem. I'm so sorry. I won't disturb you then." She puts the box of cookies back in her messenger bag, then she makes some exaggerated slow sneaky steps towards the stairway, but still maintaining eye contact with Rachel. After a few steps, she halts, seeing the popular girl's distant stare deep into the hallway. "Is everything okay?" Her voice is sweet and soothing.
Rachel fidgets with her fingers, unable to maintain contact. The sorrow from earlier is slowly seeping back into her soul. "I… don't even know anymore…"
The cookie-selling girl waddles her way towards Rachel, "Here, take this." She pulls that same box of cookie back out of her bag, holding it out with both hands. "Please have it. It'll cheer you up." She lets out a sunny grin.
The girl's positive aura radiates, penetrating into Rachel to lift her spirits. Normally, she wouldn't take anyone's offering like this, but she could use it this time. Rachel returns with her own smile, "Thank you," she says weakly, taking the box of cookies.
"No problem." She gives a wave with her hand and begins marching short steps toward the end of the hallway.
Rachel looks onto her, seeing her walk off, lugging the large backpack on her back toward the dark stairwell door. "Kate…" she calls to her.
The blonde girl immediately stops on her heels, looking back with wide eyes. She quickly patters her feet back to the door, giving a warm cheery smile. Rachel presses her lips into a forced smile, pushing her back against the door, opening it wider. "Come in…"
The church girl shuffles her feet through the doorway, with Rachel closing the door right behind her. Kate turns around again with her smile, her eyes are full of delight, "I woke up back in my room after talking to Max in Chloe's backyard, realizing it is March all of the sudden. I wasn't even sure if I went back with you guys or somehow got booted into a totally different timeline all by myself." Rachel crosses her arms over the black dress, with the box of cookies in her hand. She makes steady steps towards the other angel. "So the first thing I did was hop on a bus to Blackwell Academy where I pretend to blend in as a student in the common area." She points in the direction of the stairways through the walls of the room, "I don't know if I messing with the time-space continuum, but I had to make sure you were okay." She wobbles in closer to Rachel, "You brought me back..."
Author's Note : Hey sorry for the delay on this. I went a bit back and forth with this chapter, and this really took squeezed out all the creativity from my brain. This chapter was very different and unique for me to write. Hopefully, it flowed well enough for you guys. Rachel is having a conflict with her own mind/body, as she also suffers some PTSD and seeing her old memories.
A very difficult person to characterize is Jefferson. I don't read many fanfictions but I don't think he is used too often either. I don't want to give a full analysis of what I did with his character, but just going to "speak out loud" with what I did in this chapter and nothing in regards to the game theories. Simply, Rachel and Mark is in a teacher-student relationship. Rachel sees Mark as wise and very optimistic and passionate. Of course in the dining table scene, (this) Rachel was asking Jefferson for his advice and thoughts about certain things. In the later part of the chapter when Rachel reveals to Mark her time travel powers and how he reacted to it... well this part was very difficult. Of course, I made Mark a little psycho (like in EP5). But I thought a little bit what a "psychopath" would really say in that situation... Overall, I went with the route where he didn't even fight back against Rachel's assault. I feel that Mark can speak to Rachel and do "more harm" to her that way and crush her spirit. Some of his words can be the truth or can be deceitful. But everything he said to Rachel, crushes her. Whether or not Mark truly believed in Rachel's time travel powers is one thing... but I feel he is very clever at reading people and "filling in the blank". At the end of the day, you just never know for sure. And to be honest, if Rachel was lying...Mark isn't going to let her leave that car alive. And if she isn't lying, he can at least twist her mind. There is definitely explicit language from Mark in this section.
Some gratuitous steamy scenes in this chapter to make some use of my Mature rating. :D Of course, I ended the chapter abruptly with Kate rambling... :) Yay, Rachel brought her back with her powers as well, but is it worth it? And how is Rachel going to interact with Kate after all this?
Anyways, this chapter was very fun and difficult to write. I hope it was interesting enough for you guys. :) Let me know what you think!