(Two years ago today I published the first chapter of this story, which was meant to be just a fluffy little thing. Well, here we are, at the final chapter. I kinda screwed up the whole supper-fluffy happy thing, but, hey, can you blame me? I've grown so much while writing this, and I am intensely grateful to everyone who has read this. It's been quite the journey. By the way, sorry that it took like seven months to update this. I hope it meets your expectations. There may be a sequel, but I am working on other projects. Be sure to watch my profile for news about that. If you want, go check out my original works on fictionpress at memesdreamsandbeans. And for one last time, read on and enjoy.)

I wake to harsh lights, the smell of antiseptic and insistent beeping. Through the fog, I realize that I must be in a hospital. Which means that I'm alive, at the very least.

It takes a while for everything to come into focus. Jefferson kidnapped Chloe and I and held us in his bunker. When David and other officers came for us, he tried to kill me. The last thing I remember hearing before I passed out was guns shooting. So his attempt to kill me must have failed. But what had happened to him?

I'm startled by a voice coming from the doorway. "Ah, Ms. Caulfield. You're awake." I look up to see a doctor standing in the doorway. She walks into the room and sits in a chair next to the hospital bed. "I'm glad to see that. How are you feeling?"

"Like a psychopath tried to kill me. And thirsty." I croak out. The doctor smiles, taking a cup from the bedside table.

"That is understandable. I'll be right back with some water for you, Maxine."

"Max." The doctor nods, walking out of the room. She returns a minute later and hands me the cup, now full. I drink most of it, setting it aside after. "Thank you."

"Of course, Max. I'm Dr. Bryant. Now, how are you actually feeling today?"

"Tired. Foggy. What... happened?"

Dr. Bryant sighs, hesitating for a moment. "You were drugged with a potent tranquilizer and in an unconscious state. In all honestly, you are very lucky that Mr. Madsen and the other officers got there when they did."

"What about Chloe?" I say, dragging myself to a sitting position. Everything is still somewhat foggy and it takes a lot of effort.

"Your friend is alright. A few of her ribs were cracked and her shoulder was dislocated, but she will be fine." The doctor pauses for a moment, laughing quietly, before continuing. "Chloe is quite outspoken."

"What did she say to you?" I ask, smiling. I can only hope it wasn't too bad.

Dr. Bryant shakes her head slightly. "Well, she said, and I quote 'if I don't get out of this goddamn hospital bed sometime soon I won't be the only one with broken ribs.'"

"Ugh, I'm sorry about her. She doesn't have a filter."

"It's quite alright, Max. Actually, she's been asking about you quite often. I can tell that she cares a great deal about you."

"I love her." I murmur, looking down.

"I can tell, Max. Now, physically, you might be a bit weak for a while. I would also like for both you and Chloe to go to a councilor once a week for therapy. Going through something like this can have very serious mental effects, and we'd like to avoid that as much as possible. Chloe may have some issues with pain for a while, but in time it will fade and she'll be right as rain."

I nod slowly. "How did Chloe take that?"

"Extremely well, actually. She agreed as soon as I mentioned it."

"That's good." I say. The doctor agrees. We both look up as we hear a knock at the door. Standing there, we see Joyce and David.

"Ah, hello. I assume you're here to see Max?" Dr. Bryant stands up, an easy smile on her face. "Come on in. I'll give you some time alone." With that, the doctor leaves again.

Joyce rushes in, straight to my bedside. David hangs back at the door, his expression soft yet unsure. I send him a small smile to encourage him to come in the room.

He does, taking a place at the other side of my bed. Joyce takes one of my hands softly, her eyes full of worry.

"Sweetheart, how are you feeling? Oh, you've been through so much. I can't believe that monster hurt my little girls."

"Joyce, I'm alright. I swear. Just a bit... Foggy right now. I'll be okay. David saved me." I look at him as I say that, watching him look away from me.

"Hon, could I have a moment alone with Max?" David asks, looking up to meet his wife's eyes. She nods, a strange look settling over her face as if whatever David wants to talk about is unpleasant.

She exits the room, leaving David and me alone together. "Max, I have to tell you something." He pauses, shaking his head. He drags a chair from the corner of the room to my bedside, sitting. "Now, you passed out pretty quick back there. I don't know how much you remember, but..."

I take the pause as an opportunity to speak up. "The last thing I remember hearing before blacking out was gunshots." I try to suppress the shiver that runs through my body at the memory of the booming shots.

"Right. Mark Jefferson was shot fatally." David paused to read my reaction. "He's dead."

I don't know if I'm supposed to feel something at that news, but I don't. I don't feel pleased, but I don't mourn. I don't know what to feel.

"Okay."

David looks at me for a long moment before speaking once more. "Right. In a while, an officer will stop by to take an official statement from you." David rises from his chair slowly "I'm glad I got there in time." He whispers the last sentence, reaching out to pat my hand softly.

Soon, he's left the room and I'm left alone again with a hollow feeling wanting to do nothing except lay down.

Leaning back into my hospital bed, I stare up at the ceiling, idly counting the number of ceiling tiles.

The officer comes and I have to tell the whole fucked up story again. He sits quietly, writing in his notebook at certain points and nodding at others.

He thanks me for talking to him and leaves again. And once again, I'm left with the memories of Jefferson and the dark room.

I've been in the hospital for three days when they decide I've gained enough of my strength back to be able to walk around. So of course I immediately want to go see Chloe.

Dr. Bryant steps into my room, smiling warmly at me. "Hello, Max. How are you feeling this afternoon?"

I shrug, watching as she sits in the chair by my bed. "I'm alright, I guess. When can I go see Chloe?"

"Straight to the point." She says, nodding slightly. "Well, I just went to see her before I came here, and she shares the impatience. She didn't even bother with any pleasantries. Right away, she asked how you were doing."

"How is she? Is she healing okay?"

"Yes, Max, she will be perfectly fine. Now, in response to your earlier question, you can go see her soon. You're strong enough to walk, and we will be discharging you as soon as we're certain there will be no long lasting effects."

I'm relieved by the news. Hospitals have always given me a bad feeling, and I've been in hospitals way too much lately.

"That's great. So how soon is soon?"

Dr. Bryant chuckles. "As soon as we're done here. I'll walk with you to her room. You two are inseparable, aren't you?"

"She's my best friend. One of the most important people in my life."

"I can tell. Now, I just have a few things to ask you before we go..."

We slowly walk down the hospital hallway, Dr. Bryant watching me to make sure that I'm alright.

Finally, the doctor gestures to a door on the left and we stop in front of it. She opens the door, stepping inside.

"Hello, Chloe."

"Hey, Doc. How come you're back so soon? I wasn't expecting to see you until this evening." Her voice is quiet, which is unusual. She sounds tired and almost like it hurts to speak, which makes sense with the broken ribs.

"I have a surprise. I believe that you'll enjoy it greatly."

Chloe doesn't respond. Dr. Bryant looks over her shoulder at me, gesturing for me to enter the room.

I do, and Chloe's eyes immediately go to me. "Max." She whispers, her voice breathy. The dark, angry bruise on her cheek makes me feel a spike of guilt in my stomach.

"Chloe. Hi." I don't know what to say. I'm just grateful that we're both still here and her eyes haven't completely lost their spark.

"Come here." She says, her voice still a whisper. "Looks like we're both in the hospital, again. Maybe we should work on that." I now stand by her bedside, a small smile growing on my lips at her humor.

It's the first time I've smiled and meant it since the dark room. "It's getting to be a bit of a problem. How are you feeling, Chloe?"

She struggles into a sitting position, a grimace on her face as she does it. "Hurting. I'm alright, though. I'll be okay. How are you?"

"I'm okay. He didn't hurt me. Other than trying to kill me, I mean. But he didn't... Physically harm me too much."

Chloe shoots a glance at Dr. Bryant, sighing softly. "We'll be okay. We can work through the pain together, Max."

Somehow I can tell that she means the shared mental pain that we'll both be going through. A silence falls over the room as I nod at her words, my head down.

After a few moments, Chloe breaks the silence again, her voice sound slightly cheerier. "Hey, we're on the news, though."

That surprises me. I haven't turned the television on once since I've been here, so I had no idea. "Really? What are they saying?"

"Oh, you know. Two vulnerable teenage girls abducted by a murderous psychopath. The apparent long line of kidnappings and killings by seemingly upstanding citizen Mark Jefferson. Police statements on how the hell they couldn't figure out what he was doing but two little girls could. That sorta stuff."

The humor is a defense mechanism, I know that. But I also don't blame her for using it.

We're quiet again, and I take her hand in my own. She's cold, but she squeezes my hand softly and for just a moment, everything feels alright.

"My parents are driving down." I tell Chloe a few days after I first saw her in her hospital room. The pain has gone down somewhat and the bruise on her cheek is starting to fade.

"When are they supposed to get into Arcadia?"

"Sometime tomorrow. I don't know what to say when I see them."

Chloe stares out the window, her expression tired and sad. "I understand. I still don't know what to say when Mom and David come around. I think they're both struggling too."

"David especially. He had to see everything down there."

A pause as Chloe hesitates to find the correct words. She finally does, turning to me with tears in her eyes. "He saved our lives. We're both still here because of David."

"I know." I whisper, reaching out to wipe a tear from her cheek. She turns her face into my hand, pressing into my palm.

Her words are muffled, but I still understand. "I owe him everything. He saved us."

"I know." I whisper again, gently stroking her cheek. "He cares about you so much. He's so glad that you're okay."

Chloe sobs, and I hold her.

My parents arrive the next day, late in the afternoon. They are in my room, staring at me in the silence. No one knows what to say or how to say it, just as predicted.

"Maxine," my mother begins, "we are so glad that you're still here. We are so lucky."

My father walks over to my bed with his long strides and envelops me in a bear hug. "Max, I love you so much. I was so scared, baby. Never, ever do that to me again."

"I'll try, Dad." I whisper, feeling tears gathering in my eyes. "N-no promises, but I'll try."

He chuckles, pulling away. My father quickly wipes at his cheeks, hoping that I don't notice the tears he's wiping away. "Smart ass. In all seriousness, though, I'm glad you're okay."

"Me too." I agree, sighing heavily. "We're both okay."

My mother quietly walk further into the room, her hands clasped in front of her. I glance at her, although she doesn't say anything.

"How is she?" Dad asks, his voice soft. "I'd like to see her if she can have visitors."

I nod in response to his statement. "She can. She'd love to see you. Both of you." I add, shooting another glance at my mother.

There's a slightly awkward pause as we all search for something to say. "So, Maxine... Will you finish school?"

I stare at my mother for a long moment, trying to figure our the best way to answer her question. "Probably not."

"What do you mean? Are you just going to let your scholarship go? You're not finishing high school?"

I groan, sliding my hand down my face. "Mom, I would appreciate it if you didn't lecture me right now. I apologize that I don't want to go back to the school where he worked."

"You could come back to Seattle with us and finish school there."

My dad looks at my mother, a hard look in his eyes. "Vanessa," he begins, his tone warning. "Max is right. Going back to Blackwell would not be a good choice right now. She's an adult and she can make her own choices by now."

She purses her lips, looking between the two of us. "Fine. You can be a dropout if you want." With that, she sweeps out of the room, leaving my dad and I behind.

He sighs, sinking into the chair next to my bed. "I'm so sorry, Max. I think it's the stress. I don't... I don't know why she's acting like this."

"It's not your fault, Dad." I close my eyes, taking a deep breath. "I'm sorry."

"For what, honey?" His big, warm hands envelop mine, encouraging me to look up at him. "You have nothing to be sorry for."

"Just... A lot of stuff. Making Mom so angry, I guess."

"Not your fault. It's her choice to be angry about things that don't matter right now."

"Okay. I think I'm going to stay with the Prices again. I don't... I won't feel comfortable in Seattle, either."

"Okay. That's okay, Max."

"The hospital wants us to do therapy together."

"Probably for the best. Are you okay? Do you need anything."

I shake my head, pulling my hands from his grasp. "I'm fine. You should go talk to Chloe. She loves you."

He chuckles as I tell him the room number. "The feeling is mutual. She's a good kid."

SIX MONTHS LATER

Things have calmed down, at least a little bit. My parents went back home soon after they arrived and Chloe and I went back home not long after that. She's healed, mostly, although she still hurts occasionally.

I dropped out of Blackwell. The memories of Jefferson would have been too painful. I took the GED, though, so at least that's something.

"Max?" Chloe says, breaking my train of thought up.

"Yeah?" I look up, glancing at the hair that only has a bit of blue at the ends now, because she's let the color fade and grow out.

"I've been thinking..." She starts, pulling the chair across me out and sitting down, her hands clasped and sitting on the table. "I think we should do something. Get out of Arcadia Bay for a while."

"Something like a road trip?"

"Yeah. Like a road trip."

I nod. And we make the plans, and in just a few short weeks, we have our trip mapped out and we're saying goodbye to David and Joyce.

"Oh, I'll miss you girls. Please be safe, sweethearts." Joyce says as she hugs the both of us rightly. She lets us go so we can say goodbye to David.

He rests one hand on each of our shoulders, a smile smile on his face. "Be careful. I will find out if you two get into trouble. Max, make sure this one doesn't strain herself. And have fun."

We both hug him, which seems to surprise yet delight him. "We will, Dave. Thank you."

He nods, watching as we step away. They smile, David wrapping an arm around Joyce's waist. We get into Chloe's truck, waving at them as Chloe pulls out of the driveway.

"Okay. Do we have everything we need?"

"Yeah, Max. We'll be good."

We'll be good. We might not be right now, but that's okay.

Someday, life will be good again. And we'll be together.