"Wait... time travel? Like Doctor Who?" Chloe asked. Max laughed, presumably at the confounded look on her face.
"Not quite. I don't get a cool box that's bigger on the inside."
That got a chuckle from Chloe. "All right, so you know I gotta ask you to prove it. Let me think..." Max looked ready for this. She probably already knew. "I got it. Tell me what I have in my p-"
Max cut her off. "Twelve cents, a receipt for Chinese food last week, your keys, and a rubber band."
Chloe's eyes opened wide, and she emptied her pockets to check. Max was exactly right, of course.
"Dude! Even I didn't know that. You seriously have superpowers."
"That's not all."
Chloe smiled at Max, ready to see what else her friend could do. Then, without warning, Max was suddenly straddling her lap, their two faces only inches apart. Max hadn't even moved, and now they were close enough that Chloe could feel her breath on her nose.
"Hey," Max said, and the word sent a chill down Chloe's spine.
"...hey," she returned.
Another moment and Max was back in her seat, acting like nothing happened. Chloe was still trying to overcome her suddenly-racing heart.
"I have a few other tricks, if you want to see," Max said with a wink.
Chloe wanted nothing else.
-Final Timeline, October 7th
Chloe stared down at her phone, wondering if she had made the right decision. What she did was mean, yeah, but Max just didn't get it. Going behind her back and using her power like that, even after they promised each other that they would be nothing but honest, hurt more than anything. Max had said nothing changed, and Chloe hoped she was right.
The lady on the intercom called for her group to board, so Chloe shouldered her bag and boarded. She had gotten an aisle seat; the extra room was the only thing that would make this bearable. Fortunately, the man next to her wasn't some fat slob. He didn't look like a snorer either. Somehow, she might survive this cramped metal box.
Chloe payed little attention to the other passengers getting on. Instead, she put on her headphones and scrolled through her playlist to pass the time until takeoff.
Eventually, the captain's voice called out over the speakers. Just over two hours. Fine weather in Portland. Should be a smooth flight. Nothing unexpected.
The flight attendants did their final check, followed by that dumb presentation they always had to give. She tuned it out and practically slept through it. If the plane crashed, they'd all die anyway, so it was pointless.
The passing thought stuck with her. Wouldn't that be a riot? Go through all this effort to find Rachel and help Max, only to go down on her way back. Would serve her right, at least. Then Max wouldn't have to put up with her failure of a girlfriend. Chloe subconsciously felt that this entire series of betrayals was her own fault, in a way. She was the constant, every time. If she had done better, then maybe Rachel wouldn't have left. Maybe Old Max would've told her more. Maybe New Max would trust her.
She still recalled one thing Max said after she woke up. It wasn't her lack of recognition, nor the pressure to learn more despite the consequences. 'I can't trust you like that', Max had said. The words sent a spike of pain through Chloe that still had yet to heal. Not that she would ever say so.
"Miss, are you all right?" The not-slob from Chloe's left was speaking to her. He wore a business-casual suit and trendy glasses, and that combined with his trimmed beard gave her the impression of a professional.
"What?" she responded as she removed her headphones. Who was this guy, trying to get in her business?
"You're crying. Do you need a tissue?"
Chloe rubbed at her eyes and they came away drenched. She didn't even realize.
"No, man. I'm fine." She glared at him as best she could manage, and when he casually turned away, she thought that was the end of it.
He clearly didn't think so. He pulled a small piece of cloth out of his pocket and held it out. Chloe debated rejecting it, but she had let out more tears than she thought at first, and her face was feeling a little gross.
She took the cloth and wiped her eyes. Good thing she wasn't wearing makeup; she'd look like a clown otherwise.
"Thanks," Chloe said when she finished. She handed the gross handkerchief back to the man.
"You know," he said as he put it away, "when I was your age, I thought I had no purpose in life, either. You have that look, like you're lost and don't know what to do."
"What are you, some kind of therapist?"
He chuckled at that. "Not quite. I'm a teacher. My cousin's the therapist."
"Oh. Cool." Chloe wasn't entirely sure what to say to that.
"I don't mean to pry, but what seems to be the problem?" He wouldn't let it go, apparently.
Chloe sighed. "Just some personal shit." She stressed the word. "I can deal with it."
The man hummed, thinking, before turning to look straight at her. "That, I can believe. But I've known many young girls like you, thinking the entire world is out there to conquer. You're someone who was forced to grow too early."
"Uh, sure?" She didn't really get what he meant.
"Try to stay innocent, Chloe, is what I'm saying. Life is harsh, and it only taints your soul. Do you understand?"
"Yeah, I guess," Chloe said, then hesitated. She never told the man her name. "Wait... have we met before?"
The man smiled at the question, and it turned Chloe's stomach. "Not exactly, but Rachel has told me all about you."
Chloe took a closer look at the man's face, and recognition enveloped her. The newspapers. The pictures. He had the face of the nightmare.
"Don't worry," he said. "I visited her again already. She didn't get away this time, and neither will you."
A sharp paralysis flooded through Chloe's body, making her unable to move as the man stuck a needle into her neck.
•••
"-and note the emergency exits located at the front, center, and rear of the cabin."
Chloe jolted awake from her nightmare, an uncomfortable numbness flowing through her knee as she banged her leg into the seat in front of her. The noise got her an angry stare from the man next to her, but here in the real world, he didn't have the face of that psycho Jefferson. Other than the glasses, they were nothing alike.
She straightened herself up from the tired slouch she had fallen into and wiped at her eyes. Her fingers came back only slightly wet, a far cry from the waterworks they had been before. Thankfully, no one said anything as she shot a quick glance at the passengers around her. A quick reset of her headphones and music, and she built her wall from the world once more.
Confident that the nightmare had passed, Chloe settled back down and rubbed her sore knee. The flight attendant had since finished her speech and moved to the front of the cabin, leaving the aisle empty and ready for takeoff. Not long after, the vibrations of the engines rattled through the plane as they started their journey to Oregon.
Her heart still thumped faster than it should have, but she blamed that on the music she focused on, trying to chase away the memory of that terrible nightmare. It barely worked. This nightmare had been different, frightening in a different way. Compared to that, she missed her anxiety dreams about her dad. Not as much as William, himself, of course.
Don't dwell, idiot.
A small breath escaped her lips. Two more hours and a bus to Arcadia Bay, then Max. Chloe still didn't know what she would do. She'd figure it out later, but not now.
It was a problem for future Chloe.
•••
Portland was a fine city, mostly, in Chloe's opinion. It was a shame she didn't get the chance to spend much time there, but greater things called to her back in Arcadia Bay. Few people were headed that direction on a Sunday morning in mid-November, which meant that the bus was practically empty. Exactly what she preferred.
About a half-hour into the ride back to town, Chloe grew restless. All this travel in only two days was more than she had done in months at a time previously. Her parents were never much for vacations—other than that planned but nonexistent Paris trip—and after William died, they hardly went anywhere. In fact, Chloe couldn't even remember the last time she had left the county, let alone the state.
Still, this constant travel was getting on her nerves. She couldn't talk to Max; that whole situation still needed to be worked out. Rachel... probably needed some time. Chloe did, at least. It struck her once again how few people she knew she could consider a good friend. Then the obvious answer came to her, and she felt a pang of guilt for not realizing earlier. She had promised herself she would reach out, but she hadn't. She grabbed her phone to remedy that.
Me: hey kate. sorry i havent talked in awhile ive been busy. like seriously busy, for real.
She sent the text and wondered if she laid the apology on too thick. Kate responded a few minutes later.
Katie: Hi Chloe. It's okay. What have you been up to, if you don't mind me asking?
Me: spent a couple days in LA cali trying to find someone. did in the end and now im on my way back.
Katie: Oh well that's very nice to hear. I'm glad it worked out. And that does explain why I haven't seen you around with Max recently. You've been by each other's side since she came back to us :D.
Me: yeah well max and i are also in a little fight right now. we havent talked in awhile but its okay. we'll get it sorted when i get back.
Katie: I hope so. She's been a little under the weather the past couple of days. I don't want to tell you what to do, but it seems like she could use your help. I tried, but she hasn't been in the mood to talk.
Chloe considered what exactly that meant. 'The past couple of days' would mean that was the other Max for at least most of it. Dammit, Max. What did you do?
Me: i get that. But we just really need to talk first i think.
Me: she's doing like okay right? for the most part?
Katie: I think so. She spent most of the weekend in her room, but I saw her leave with Victoria this morning. I haven't checked if she's come back yet, though.
Me: dont worry about it.
Me: anyway enough about our favorite person. How are you doing kate? i feel like i dont ask that enough.
The next reply took longer than the others.
Katie: I could be doing worse, I know that. But for the most part I think I'm holding in there. One day at a time, isn't that what you said? You don't need to worry about me making another mistake like before. Thank you for asking though. I'm blessed to have someone like you to care.
Me: of course. im always here to talk whenever you need. why dont we hang out sometime this week?
Katie: I'd love that. I know you don't love tea as much as I do, but I know you can't resist smoothies. How does that sound?
Me: positively amazing
Katie: Great! ^-^ Now sorry to go but I have a lot to work on for class tomorrow. We can work out the details later, okay?
Me: sounds good. later kate
Katie: Bye, Chloe! xoxo
Chloe put her phone away, the conversation having made her feel much better. Kate was such an angel. Hopefully, this would bode well for later.
But Chloe wasn't fully convinced.
•••
Max stared down at her phone, knowing that she had made the wrong decision. Chloe was right. Max had been so focused on trying to find out more about herself and her powers that she had pushed Chloe to the sideline. They were dating now, didn't that mean anything?
Ever since she woke up, the world had been nothing but confusing. First her powers, then the mystery of Old Max and Chloe's proclamation of love. Nothing made sense, except for one thing. Chloe had been there for her. Every day since the accident, she was never alone.
Max needed to make this right, but she couldn't until Chloe Chloe had just now gotten on her plane, she wouldn't be back for several hours. What would Max do with her time?
The obvious answer was 'study' or 'homework', but neither of those called to her. Not that they ever did, but they were especially silent today. She supposed it was a slightly good thing that Auto Max canceled her study date with Kate; it meant they could reschedule.
Unfortunately, with a lack of other options, studying was the best choice right now. She was behind enough as it was, and it might take her mind off of Chloe. Resigned to her fate, she cracked open a textbook and got to work.
•••
It was late afternoon when the bus rumbled to a stop in the middle of Arcadia Bay, and Chloe was the only one to get off. The few other passengers were headed further down the coast, off to bigger and better things. She breathed in the cool salty air and let out a soft sigh. She was home.
She pulled out her phone once more, ready to call Max to talk, but hesitated. Her time alone had done her fewer favors than she'd hoped, and she wasn't sure she could do it without making some poor decisions or word choices. Instead, she only sent a text.
Me: im back in town but im gonna need a bit. we're good. just. lets talk later today after ive cooled down.
Max responded immediately with an okay and nothing more. It was about what Chloe expected.
Now Chloe had to decide where to go to calm herself down. Anywhere Max might be was out of the question, naturally, so that cut out anywhere near Blackwell or the Two Whales. Home was a terrible idea, because running into stepdouche was the opposite of what she needed. Grabbing her truck and parking outside of town like she usually did might work.
Eventually, before she resigned herself to falling back on her old plans, she thought of a place she had only visited once in almost half a year. The junkyard had always been her place to escape, and with her meeting with Rachel, maybe it didn't have to be full of pain anymore.
It seemed as good an idea as any, so that's what she did. It was only a short walk to her house to grab her truck—making sure she wasn't seen by anyone who might be inside—and a decent drive to the junkyard. Fortunately, she was good on fuel. Maybe she should have asked Rachel for some of that Old Max kidnap payout.
Chloe tossed the thought as soon as she considered it. That would be guilt-tripping and manipulative, and she liked to think she wasn't like that. Only a hothead with anger issues.
At the junkyard, Chloe pulled her truck into a sideways park and got out. It looked untouched, exactly as it had been almost a week ago. Ruined cars and buses and boats littered the place, only a tiny building standing in the debris. Last time, when Chloe searched for a hidden phone on a future Max's orders, she avoided the shack. Now, maybe it was time to return.
She still didn't understand exactly what was up with that phone, or whether there was more that Old Max had hidden around, but that wasn't her focus. All that mattered now was clearing her head so she might forgive Max. To that end, she walked over and entered the shack.
Chloe was here greeted her on the wall. Rachel's own message had long ago been scratched out by angry hands and an angry knife. Everything inside was in a state of disarray: cushions slashed and torn, bottles smashed, table upended. It reminded Chloe of terrible times, when she thought hatred was the only emotion she could still feel.
Even so, the familiarity of the place comforted her. She found a place on the couch comfortable enough to sit and stretch her legs out. She kicked away the broken dartboard and thought about nothing in particular. To her, that was exactly what she needed.
No music, no talking, no noise. Chloe couldn't guess how long she sat there, unwinding amid all that mess. Every second flowed into the next, and she didn't care. The only thing she wished was that she had some weed, but she could do without this once.
Eventually, the moment of calm passed, and she could almost feel a nonexistent music fade to a halt. Her time to herself solved nothing, but it made it easier, in a sense.
Chloe hadn't magically forgiven Max, but it was time to hear her out. If she really had learned something new, they needed to talk about it. Chloe had to tell her about Rachel and Old Max, too.
With a full-body stretch, Chloe pulled her legs back through the debris but unexpectedly felt a foot catch on something solid within. She gave it a tug and brought the fairly heavy object back to the floor underneath her seat on the couch.
It was a solid metal container, about the size of a shoebox, with a large CP grooved into the top. It was clean and professional, as if it had been made with the initials. The hinge around the back had a slight tinge of rust, but other than that and the scratches from her dragging it, it appeared brand new. Chloe didn't recognize it at all. It definitely didn't belong to her, despite the letters, and it looked too new to have belonged to Rachel.
Unsure of what was inside, Chloe picked the box up, set it in her lap, and the hinge barely creaked as she slowly opened the unlocked clasp. Inside, the box was filled with cash banded and stacked end to end, surrounding two Polaroid cameras. One she knew very well. It was her dad's back before he died, and Chloe had given it to Old Max the day they reconnected. The other she couldn't place. Atop the money was a neatly folded letter with the words I'm sorry written on the front. Chloe recognized the handwriting; there was only one person it could be from.
She unfolded the letter and read through the lengthy note without stopping. She don't know if she blinked at all; she was so focused on those words. When she finished, she checked the back and saw what she expected, closed the box, keeping the note. Counting the money could wait. She needed to talk to Max.
Without another moment's hesitation, she grabbed her phone and dialed Max's number. It was time to talk.
•••
Naturally, Max became almost immediately distracted from her studies. Homework was nice, but the internet was a better distraction. Videos and forums and pictures all worked to keep her from her goal, but she didn't care. She was never that good at staying focused, anyway.
A few hours later, she finally received a text from Chloe, saying that she was back in town, but needed some time before she would talk. Max sent back a short reply and tried to pass the time again, but now that message stuck in her head. She put on an episode of one of her favorite TV shows, to not much help.
She considered sending another text, but that would just be needy. If Chloe needed her time, Max had to respect that. Fortunately, she didn't need to wait for long. Not even an hour passed before her phone rang, and she snatched it up and answered the moment she saw Chloe's name appear.
"Chloe?" she began.
"Yeah, Maxi. It's me. Can you, uh, come meet me at the junkyard? There's a bus that goes nearby. There's something I need to show you."
"I can be there." Max didn't know what was so important at the junkyard, or why Chloe couldn't pick her up, but she didn't care. Anything to fix this.
"Cool... cool. I'll see you there. I, uh..." She seemed like she wanted to say something else. "See you there." She hung up before Max could respond.
Max didn't hesitate. She threw on a coat and ran to the nearest bus stop. She knew the way well enough from her trip there with Chloe last week, and it wouldn't take long if the buses weren't late.
Fortunately, they weren't. She caught the bus right before it left and spent the ride over wondering what she planned to say. I'm sorry was obvious, but she needed more. It was unfair of her to leave Chloe out of this and jump back without telling her. Even if it worked out in the end—for a certain definition—she couldn't do it again.
When she got to the stop she needed, she exited the bus and practically ran to the junkyard. It was exactly as rusted and dangerous as she remembered, but she paid no attention. Chloe would likely be in the shack, so that's where she headed.
Inside, she saw that Chloe had kicked most of the debris to the sides of the room, leaving the center clear with a low table set up. Atop the table was a metal box with an inscription on the top. Chloe gave her a slight smile as she entered.
"Hey, Super Max."
Max caught her breath and returned the smile. "Hey, Chloe. Are we... good to talk?"
"Yeah, yeah. There's just something you need to read first. It's, uh, from you."
"Old Max?" she clarified.
"That's right. Her. Read it and tell me what you think."
She held out a letter that Max hadn't seen and passed it over to read. Unfolding it, Max was met with her own handwriting. This was from Old Max, without a doubt.
She read through, confused at first, and making connections with what Old Max had told her. Some things in the note were wrong, but certain things stuck out to her. As she neared the end, she noticed that the words seemed to swirl around, becoming harder and harder to focus on.
With the final words, she lowered the note and saw the world spin around her. She knew what was coming, but this time she was ready for it. Chloe must have seen too, because she ran over and grabbed Max in a full-body hug to hold her steady.
"C'mon Max, not again. Stay with me!"
"Don't worry, Chloe," Max said. She wasn't sure if her words were spinning, too. "Be right back. I'll see you soon."
Everything grew dark.
•••
Chloe,
If you found this box, then that means I'm gone. Not dead gone, at least I hope not, but I feel you should know what I have done. I know you won't come back to this junkyard for a long while because of Rachel, which is why I left this here. The current date is October 8th, 2013, the day after we reconnected. My power is greater than I let on, and I'm sorry for the deception.
In the first timeline, I had a choice. Sacrifice Arcadia Bay to the storm, or go back and let you bleed to death in a Blackwell bathroom. I took a third option. I went back far, farther than I ever had before, and changed things. At first, I tried just getting us out, but the storm still hit. I tried warning people, but it only grew larger. Sometimes it hit earlier, and we pressed on, but the more I tried the more they came.
Every time I go back to try again, I watch and make adjustments where they are needed. I interefere as little as possible to give each of those Maxes their own life, but this time I need to take matters into my own hand. In every timeline, I write these letters so that you will have an explanation for when I leave.
First, the fact that you even exist to read this means that my plan either worked, or this timeline is strong enough to carry on without me. If I succeeded, then this letter will tell you nothing you don't already know and I must have forgotten to grab it. You can show it to me and we can laugh at my forgetfulness. Otherwise, I left to try again. The Max I leave behind will know little of the past few years, and nothing of her powers. It's up to you to teach her. Hopefully, you have already started.
Second, Rachel Amber is alive. I've written her address on the back of this letter so you can find her. She lives in L.A. now and is doing well for herself. I made sure of that. If you decide you want to try to forgive her, then that is your choice.
Third, the cash in this box is for you. The storm has likely already hit and you're digging all of this out of the rubble. Take it and run. If there is one, more will follow. The cameras are yours too. You deserve to have something of your dad's, and of mine, if I'm not around.
Last, please don't hate me. I know that I never told you everything and you may see this as me manipulating you, but it was for everyone's own good. I will settle for nothing less than your survival.
I've traveled through so many timelines trying to perfect things, but I could never get them quite right. This one may be close, and I hope beyond hope that it will be it. Even so, it will be filled with failures. Rachel Amber broke so many hearts. Kate Marsh will almost kill herself. Stella Hill is dead. You aren't happy.
I can't do this much longer. The strain of holding back so many Maxes in one long, nested jump is overwhelming. Still, I won't stop until my work is done.
This is my 76th, and hopefully last, attempt. I love you, Chloe.
Until the ends of time,
Maxoxo.
•••
Max knew exactly where she was, but something was different. The dark, empty void no longer held any more of those floating rocks. Only an empty expanse now.
"Max?" she called out, searching for her other self. "Are you there?"
"I didn't expect you back so soon." The voice came from behind, and she turned around to see Old Max standing there. She was unsteady on her feet, but still shot her a slight smile and a wave.
"We found your letter. The money, too."
Old Max nodded. "I saw that. Honestly, I thought it would be left there, forgotten."
"You didn't expect this to work. You were just going to leave."
"This wasn't intended to be the final timeline." Old Max averted her gaze. "You weren't ever supposed to return. But you did, and now I'm here. When I realized that this timeline would actually work, I was almost at my limit. I did a few small things: jump and hide the phone I used to blackmail Sean Prescott, make sure Nathan stayed to the end, hide my involvement with tipping off David. All to protect you."
"You know which Max I am." It was a fact, and Old Max didn't deny it. "And you knew I wouldn't remember anything."
She sniffed before she responded. "You're the oldest Max, besides me. That's why you're so strong. Do you remember the hockey game, all those years ago?"
Max did. Her dad had gotten a flat tire on the way there, and they almost missed the start of the first period.
Old Max continued. "Our dad took a picture of us there. That was the first time I ever jumped back to save everyone. We gave it an attempt, and then I left." She waved to the surrounding nothingness. "You were one of the memories trapped here until that Friday morning when you all came rushing back. Weeks of battle between us all, until you emerged victorious." A sigh escaped her lips. "I was wrong, in the letter. By the time I realized this timeline might work, it was too late to change it."
"So..." Max began. "I'm only alive because of... luck?"
Old Max nodded. "You survived out of us all, but your memories aren't ever going to return. When we all collided, it was like a mind wipe. The little flashes you remember are only the pieces that were never changed. Chloe lived so many different lives; she's like a stranger."
Max couldn't believe it. She was just a random part of herself whose memories were a mashup of so many timelines. They wouldn't ever come back, and the zone-outs and forgetfulness wouldn't stop.
"You remember it all, though," Max said.
"I couldn't fight anymore. That was why I gave up. I pulled myself away to this place and let you all fight it out. But all those lives, I remember them."
Max looked around at the nothingness. All the other Maxes were gone; it was just the two of them. "Where did they go?" She feared the answer.
"As I said before: faded away. Just like me, soon."
"Is there anything I can do to help?" Max couldn't let her just die. So many other versions of herself had already.
A pained look crossed Old Max's face at the question. "I lied when I said I was powerless here. I have very little control now, but there is a way you can save me."
"What? What is it?" If there was a way, Max knew they had to take it.
"There's a photo of ourself that Rachel Amber has. It was the furthest back I ever went, and I gave it to her for safekeeping. We took it on our first day of first grade, the day we met Chloe. And now that Chloe's reconnected with Rachel, she can get it to you."
"How will that save you?" It made little sense how more photojumping could solve this.
"If you jump into it, I can use the last of my power to intercept you and come back instead. To the outside world, it will look like I'm the new you."
"And... what happens to me? Do I come back here, only to fade away?"
Old Max shook her head, a flush of red around her eyes. "You're the strongest of us all now. You wouldn't fade at all. You'd live and watch the world go by, same as I have. But if I stay here, I won't even last another day." She sniffled.
"So I can save you," Max said, considering exactly what that meant, "but I would be stuck here instead. All I could do is watch you live my life."
"I wasn't going to tell you. That's not a decision anyone should have to make. I know my share of hard decisions." Max could now clearly see the redness around her eyes as tears begin to roll down her cheeks. She tried in vain to stop them. "I'm sorry, Max. I don't mean to guilt you, but after everything I've been through... I just want to be happy with Chloe."
Max understood how she felt. Chloe was the reason Old Max did any of this, and to have her happy ending snatched away at the finish line must hurt more than anything. Then again, this life was Max's own to live, even if Old Max had set it up.
There was no easy answer. Let Old Max die, or give up her body to let her live. Was there another way? Another way so that no one had to lose anything?
"Don't bother," Old Max said. She had wiped away the tears and composed herself. "There's no third option here, and even if there was, you shouldn't take it. Everything that's happened, happened because I tried to find a middle ground." She broke eye contact and looked at the ground. "I understand if you won't do this, but I had to ask."
"I..." What was Max supposed to say? Yes, I give up my life for yours? No, you have to die?
Fortunately, she didn't have to say anything. That realm of memories snapped away, and the real world moved to replace it.
•••
Max's eyes fluttered open, and she came to, sitting on the couch in the shack. Chloe must have seen the change because she raised a questioning eyebrow. She seemed only slightly worried.
"You okay, Max?" she asked. "What happened?"
"We need to talk."
A/N:
It always comes down to a choice, doesn't it?
Thanks for reading.
Final Chapter: 2/2