I'm still taking my sweet time with these chapters. Taking care of my mental and physical health is ironically quite draining. Life has presented me with several stumbling blocks, but I'm slowly managing to surmount them.

CHAPTER 21 – DESCENT

"No. Way."

"Oh for God's sake, just get in the damn chair, Chloe," Joyce's exasperation was beginning to show.

"I'm not a cripple, okay? I DON'T. NEED. A WHEELCHAIR." Obstinate Chloe was punctuating her words. "I'll use the cane David got me."

It was an ordinary, extendable aluminum cane with a plastic grip and a rubber foot – nothing special, but it had sparked the argument between Chloe and her mom. It was a thoughtful gesture from David, but Joyce must have been so annoyed at his poor timing, judging by the speed at which he'd left the room.

"Ugh, we don't have time for this. Max, can you talk to her, please?"

"I'm the only one she listens to, right?" I joked, watching Joyce step out the door, shaking her head in a mix of resignation and admiration at her daughter's tenacity.

"I'm not doing it, Maxipad." Chloe's tone was wilful but her expression had softened.

"What, not 'punk rock' enough for you?" I smirked, eyeing her outfit. When her drip line had been removed earlier I'd helped her change out of the hospital gown into a black Rancid t-shirt, patched-up jeans, and her favorite boots. I had fun playing stylist, putting an ensemble together for her. It was a shame that her brown jacket had been cut away by the ER staff when she was brought in on Monday, and her beanie had been lost. At least she still had her bracelets and bullet necklace. "Chloe, we really need to go."

"Max…" Her voice quavered. "Wheelchairs freak me out. You of all people should know that."

Yeah, I knew exactly why Chloe didn't like wheelchairs. The alternate reality of her being paralyzed – of being a quadriplegic trapped in a slowly dwindling existence – had somehow manifested to her as vivid dream memories.

I remembered the twin moon phenomenon we'd witnessed during the End of the World party. Was that the result of alternate timelines colliding and bleeding into each other? Just thinking about the metaphysics behind it gave me a headache.

In all honesty I didn't want to wheel Chloe out of here either. It brought back all the painful memories of when I'd fucked around with time.

But then Chloe had also promised Dr Koch that she'd take it easy and not over-exert herself. I also didn't want her stitches to start bleeding again, so…

It took a little sweet-talking from me, and maybe just a tiny little kiss, but she eventually gave in.

"You good?" I asked Chloe, helping her into the passenger side of her truck.

"Of course I'm good. I'm with you," she smiled, leaning her cane on the bench seat. "I'm gonna miss the morphine drip though."

She had agreed to let me wheel her downstairs, but when we'd reached the lobby she got up and insisted on using the cane, hobbling the last several yards to the parking lot with her other hand in the crook of my elbow.

Getting behind the wheel, I put my bag down on the floor between us. What few things Chloe had were loaded into David's car, and I waved at him and Joyce as they pulled out of the parking lot. After Kris Prescott's warning about her father, our plan was to regroup at their house for lunch and decide what to do. Chloe was betting on the two of us leaving town today.

"How are you feeling? I asked, starting the engine up.

"Nervous. Excited," Chloe replied.

"I meant your stitches."

"Relax, girl. I'm invincible," she chuckled. "We're really doing it, Max. You and me. We're finally gonna leave this shithole together."

"You and me," I smiled back. Her enthusiasm was infectious, and I found myself looking forward to our Seattle road trip.

She reached out and squeezed my hand. "Thanks, babe. For last night, and for everything else."

I lifted her knuckles to my lips. "Last night was pretty fucking awesome, wasn't it?"

"You made it so." She moved the cane to her other side before sliding over and putting her arm around me. "Let's go."

I laughed. "You want us to get pulled over? Cops in this town aren't exactly trustworthy. Better buckle up."

Chloe turned to look at me, feigning jealousy. "What about your cop girlfriend? You trust her just fine."

"Come on, Chlo. That's different."

She raised an eyebrow at me before snorting in amusement. "I'm just giving you shit. Let's get outta here, boo."

"Seatbelt."

"Yes dear."

We were halfway to Chloe's house when I saw it again.

"I think someone might be following us," I murmured, checking the mirrors for what seemed like the hundredth time.

"Are you sure?" Chloe asked nervously. She couldn't turn around to look without her stitches hurting.

"I don't know. Do I look like a secret agent? It could be nothing."

I parallel-parked between two cars in front of a small strip mall and pulled my phone out, readying the camera app.
It wasn't long before the white SUV I'd noticed earlier drove past us and turned down a side street a block away. I snapped several blurry photos as it sped by, none of which were usable.

"Shit," I muttered. "I miss my camera. I hope I can get it back."

Chloe eyed me for a moment. "Don't worry, Max. It'll be fine."

We waited a few minutes, watching out for the SUV, but to our relief it didn't turn up again.

"I guess we're okay," I breathed, putting the truck in gear. I did a U-turn and took a different route, just in case.

"Huh. I thought they'd be here by now," Chloe mused, gingerly lowering herself down onto the couch and picking up the TV remote.

"They must have stopped by the diner to pick up lunch or something," I replied.

"I guess." She put her feet up on the coffee table and turned the TV on. "I am getting hungry again."

The Jefferson scandal was still the news topic of the day, but the local TV commentators made no mention of the Prescott family's involvement at all. It was almost as if they were under orders not to discuss it. Chloe didn't have cable TV, and we wondered if the other news channels were similarly gagged.

"This is such bullshit," Chloe muttered, turning the TV off.

I plopped down at Chloe's right, resting my head on her shoulder. She turned and nuzzled my scalp, breathing deeply. "I love how you smell, Max."

I took her hand and smiled contentedly, too comfortable to move. "I practically grew up with you in this house," I replied softly. "In this living room… playing video games, watching movies, eating unhealthy garbage, drinking your parents' wine…"

"You got so hammered that one time, remember? You knocked the bottle over and the wine went everywhere," Chloe chuckled.

"No… I'm pretty sure that was you!"

She paused. "Shit, you're right. It was me," she giggled. "But you also took part of the blame. That meant a lot to me."

I shifted on the couch, turning to look at her. "My mom wasn't happy when Joyce told her about it," I laughed.

"Oh man, we had to scrub the carpet all afternoon. Mom was furious," Chloe recalled. "Dad was trying so hard not to laugh."

"Yeah, he usually took our side, but I guess he thought that was a good lesson for us."

Chloe's expression turned pensive. "I still remember what you told me, the day my dad… left us. You promised you'd always have my back."

I dropped my gaze, feeling a pang of guilt in my chest.

"When your parents dragged you off to Seattle, I wanted to die. You and my dad were the two most important people in my life."

"Chloe…"

"But you came back, and you saved me. It took five years, but you did keep your promise." She enveloped me in a warm hug.

I held on to her for what seemed like hours, drawing strength from her closeness, feeling my tension melting away.

"Oh, Max…" she whispered, her lips brushing my earlobe. I let out a quivering breath as she slowly moved down the side of my neck, leaving a tantalizing trail of kisses to the small hollow at the base of my throat.

"Chloe… I thought you said you sucked at this mushy stuff?" I asked half-jokingly, but my heart was racing.

She lifted her head and silently gazed into my eyes. My heart swelled at the tender expression on her face and, breathing hard, our trembling lips came together again.

"I just realized something," Chloe chuckled breathlessly.

"Yeah?"

"With all the fun we had here growing up, we've never actually made out on the couch."

"There's a first time for everything," I giggled.

Her expression turned mischievous. "Speaking of which… wanna smoke some weed?"

"Yuck." My nose wrinkled at the thought.

"You are so cute. C'mon, Maxine, we've been hitting a lot of milestones this week. How about one more?"

"You're on meds!" I reminded her. "The doc gave you those painkillers, remember?"

"Okay, okay. But I will get you to try a joint one of these days," she grinned.

"Don't hold your breath," I replied before changing the subject. "Where are your mom and David, anyway?"

Chloe picked up her phone and dialled Joyce's number. "Huh. It's gone straight to voicemail."

"They're probably on their way here now." I rose to my feet. "I seriously need coffee. Do you have any?"

"Sorry, we only have that instant bullshit. I'd kill for a real espresso."

"I'll make you one when we get to Seattle. My parents have an awesome coffee machine."

"Hell yeah!" she smiled, energized at the thought of us leaving together. "Dude, I need to pack. Grab some garbage bags from the kitchen and help me upstairs."

"You sure you wanna use this?" I asked Chloe, dumping the empty beer bottles out of the old suitcase in the corner. "It stinks."

"Just throw in a couple of mothballs from my drawer. It'll be fine." She was sitting at her desk, dropping a few of her books, magazines and CDs into a cardboard box on the floor.

I tied up the garbage bags holding her clothes and stuffed them in the suitcase, followed by another garbage bag with her bong, her snow doe, and her weed stash in a jam jar, all wrapped up in old t-shirts. The American flag she used as a curtain went in last, neatly folded. I'd wondered before where she'd gotten it, but then I realized I didn't really want to know. Stolen from Blackwell, most likely.

"What about your stereo?" I asked her, wheeling the suitcase next to the door.

"Leave it. It's a piece of shit anyway. Mom can sell it or something. Just take the essentials," she replied absently, gazing around her room. "I never thought the day would come. I'm gonna miss this place, Max."

"A lot of good memories here," I agreed. I retrieved the keepsake box from under the bed and handed it to her.

Chloe chewed her lower lip as she opened the metal box and took out her photo with Rachel. "Yep…" she remarked softly, a touch of melancholy in her voice.

"I wish I could have known her. I mean, I've met her, but very briefly."

"Yeah, I don't think that counts, Max." Chloe looked at me with a wistful half-smile. "I wish you'd known her too. She was a lot like you. You two would have gotten along well."

I sat on the bed, studying Chloe's face as she stared at the photo. She was still mourning Rachel, and it must have hurt to talk about her. I knew Chloe would open up eventually; she just needed more time to process everything that had happened. I wasn't gonna press her any further.

"Hey, Max. Lift up the corner of the mattress," Chloe said suddenly.

I looked at her uncertainly before complying. I felt around for a moment before my hand brushed against a hard object.
"Are you serious?" I asked Chloe, pulling out David's revolver from underneath.

"Bet your sweet little ass, girlfriend," she smirked, holding out the metal box. "Put it in here."

I did as she told me, realizing that it might actually come in handy. Guns made me nervous, but we needed a way to protect ourselves.

Chloe tossed in more photos from her picture box, eyeing me as she snapped the metal case shut. "Can you put this in your camera bag for me, please?" she asked sweetly, batting her eyelashes.

"Anything for you, Chloe," I sighed, rolling my eyes. I was being sarcastic, but I found the added weight on my shoulder to be oddly comforting.

"You're the best, babe. And I have something to give you in return." She pushed herself up with the cane and shuffled over to the nearby shelf.

"This was my dad's." She held out William's old instant camera. "I know it was your birthday last month. It's not much, but I want you to have this. Dad would agree with me. I know you'll get some good use out of it."

"Oh, Chloe… thank you." I gave her a peck on the lips before wrapping my arms around her again. I knew the camera meant a lot to her, and I did use it to take some awesome shots, in another lifetime.

She laughed at that. "As much as I love getting physical with you, we'll never get out of here if we keep this up."

"Okay, okay. But before we go…" I raised the camera and took a selfie of us, cheek-to-cheek, smiling into the lens.

I left Chloe to rest on the couch while I lugged her stuff to the truck. I'd reversed into the driveway when we arrived earlier to make it easier for her. The old suitcase sat comfortably on the cab floor, and two taped-up boxes went in the truck bed.

Exhaling loudly, I wiped my hands on my jeans and happened to glance up the street. My heart lurched as I spotted a white SUV parked halfway up the block, facing away. Its windows were heavily tinted, making it impossible to see who was inside.

Oh shit, is that the same one? I can't tell…

I quickly looked away, pretending not to see it, and walked back to the house as nonchalantly as I could.

"My mom's still not answering," Chloe said as I came in.

"We might have a bigger problem," I muttered urgently.

"What do you mean?"

"I'll explain later. We gotta go. Text your mom and David - tell them we're going to the diner."

"See that white SUV?" I asked as I helped Chloe get in the truck. "Does it belong to one of your neighbors?"

"I don't know. Maybe? I don't remember."

I sighed. "Never mind, let's just go," I replied, buckling her in.

"Whoa, heads up, Max."

I turned to see a police car pulling up in front of the house. "It's Bree's partner," I reassured Chloe, realizing she hadn't met him before.

To my relief, the white SUV up the street drove quickly away as Chris stepped out of the car. His eyes followed it as it disappeared around a corner, then he turned his attention back to us.

"Miss Caulfield. Miss Price," he greeted us solemnly.

"Hey, Chris. What's going on?" I asked, filled with a sense of foreboding.

He hesitated for a moment before addressing Chloe. "I'm sorry; it's your parents…"

The appraising look on her face quickly turned to worry, then horror. "Wh-what happened? Are they okay?"

"Bree is with them now. There's been... an accident."

Notes:

Hear that?
That's the sound of shit getting real.

The bulk of this chapter (about 90%) was written in one day - a quiet Friday at work, with the boss away. The rest of the time was spent editing and fine-tuning it.