Chapter XVII: A Friendly Intervention
AN:
Hey there, Fan-fic-folks!
Long time no see. I'll spare you the details, but suffice to say I am very busy and slightly amazed that I found the time to write this. Ugh. Why do I always end up having to restart on chapters that I find incredibly difficult to write? I don't know why I keep trying to write emotional drama, because I do not find it easy.
This one specifically took a while because I wasn't quite sure how to write Chloe in the first scene. Writing it in her first-person didn't seem to work - couldn't get a handle on her inner voice for that bit - nor did writing it in the emotionally-oblivious/stunted Max's POV. So, I chose... somebody else. *ominous organ music*
Thanks for reading and, as always, please review.
My legs were really starting to hurt, I thought guiltily as I absently rubbed a hand over Chloe's shaking shoulders. God, I'm such a bitch. I was worrying about myself when I should be worrying about Chloe. I had no idea what was wrong with her, I'd state that without shame, but something sure as hell was completely and undeniably wrong. She hadn't even splayed out like she normally did. Her knees were scant inches apart, her elbows resting on them as she held her head between her hands, which were both clasped behind her neck.
Every inch of her screamed misery and angst and confusion.
The cops had dropped her off fifteen minutes ago - thank God again that my parents weren't in and the police didn't insist on waiting, being the DA's daughter is entirely useful at times like these - and she hadn't stopped shaking since. She hadn't said a word either, just came in, sat down and slumped like... that. Which was what was causing my face to crease up like this - and honestly, the wrinkles! Chloe just... Chloe wasn't quiet. Chloe was loud, brash, and thoroughly unapologetic about both. She shouldn't be quiet. It just felt wrong. And something was wrong, and she wasn't talking to me, and I don't know how to help, damnit! I can always help, I'm intuitive and elegant and I know people and none of it's helping! I just... I don't know what to...
Wait.
Lightbulb moment.
I suddenly realised exactly what I needed to do. How could I have missed that until now? I patted Chloe on the shoulder one more time, then got quickly to my feet, Chloe letting out a disconsolate little sound as I moved away (one that I know she's going to be embarrassed as hell by later on, bitching about how 'fucking emo' she's being) and moved over to my bureau. It took me a second, but I quickly rolled up the top and pulled my phone from where it was buried under a pile of textbooks and magazines.
I hit my third speed-dial contact ('Chloe's Cutie', and even the name brought a smile - get a hold of yourself, Rach. Not the time.) and waited for the phone to ring. A moment later, Max answered, giving a tentative little "Hi?" that was entirely too adorable for words. I felt another flash of guilt - Chloe was still upset - but quickly squash it. I've done nothing to be guilty about.
"Hi, Maxie." I tried to keep my voice calm and collected. Never let them see you sweat, right? "Are you at home right now?" I winced and corrected myself. "At the dorms, I mean."
Max paused before saying awkwardly "I went for a walk. I'm over on... Burton?"
That is definitely a lie. A bad one. And I'm not even certain why she'd bother. Unless she's rooting around in Chloe's underwear drawer - and I can't resist the mental chuckle at the image of Max up to her arms in lacy boy-shorts and cartoon-pattern panties - I can't see where she'd be that she'd need to lie about it. Still. This really isn't the time to try unravelling the delicious mystery of Max Caulfield. And oh, isn't that such a shame?
"Can you get to my place pronto?"
"Your... place? You mean like your house?" She's confused again. And so cute when she is. I can picture the little furrowed brow and the spectacular way her eyes just- no, Rachel. Bad Rachel. Pay attention. She's talking again.
"No, I meant exactly my house." I couldn't resist the little jibe. "Chloe's here and she's a bit upset-" The girl in question immediately let out a rather peeved, but wordless shout. I turned and glared at her. "Chloe!" She immediately shut up, looked utterly confused and distraught and a tiny bit lost. I pushed down the guilt for a third time, ignored the slight wateriness to Chloe's eyes, and focused back on my clarion call for help. "-She's a bit upset, and I could use your help calming her down. Is that okay?"
"I, um... sure?" Another dash of unsurety with a twist of hesitation. Aww.
"Awesomesauce. I'll see you soon then, babe." I hung up and turned back to Chloe. "Right. Our Maxie in shining armour is on her way. Between the two of us, we'll get you to tell the whole story."
Her eyes narrowed, and her mouth pursed in a scowl.
I let my lips curl into a slow, sensuous smirk. "What? You needed her here, I wanted her here, she'd want to be here, this way we all get what we want."
She continued to glare.
I continued to smirk.
Finally, she broke the stare and looked away.
I grinned.
Yep. This is going to work out nicely.
I didn't notice when Max finally crept in, quiet as a mouse and about as sneaky. I wouldn't have known at all if Chloe hadn't immediately thrown herself at the girl - rather like she'd tried to with the lead singer of Firewalk once - and wrapped her arms hella tightly around her before promptly sobbing into her shoulder.
"Hi Chloe," Max began, tapping Chloe awkwardly on the shoulder as she gave me an utterly bewildered look. Like all her expressions, it was painfully cute. She tried to pull back slightly, to meet Chloe's eye, but the arms stuck her in place. So, she just wriggled a little, then tilted to talk closer to Chloe's ear. "Are you... okay?"
Chloe shook her head into Max's shoulder. Max looked at me again, still entirely confused by the whole situation. It was truly adorable. Seriously, just... totes awes. Her nose wrinkled like a bunny and the little scattering of freckles over her nose bloomed, their previous light colouring going to an almost chocolate brown dappling over her pale skin. I wondered again just how far down they went, then-
A sharp spike in my arm sent pain shooting up and down it and thoroughly interrupted my scientific inquiry. I shook myself out of my drooli- I mean, my respectful inspection - and looked into Max's concerned eyes. Her hand quickly retracted - and I almost didn't catch it moving. Damn. I rubbed at the pained spot in my arm and raised an eyebrow pointedly in Max's direction. She just shrugged. Though it was kind of half-hearted - Chloe's face was still buried in her shoulder after all. "Are you okay?" She mouthed.
I gave my best Gallic shrug, mouthing back an entirely dignified "Eh." that got a grin from the girl before she redirected her attention to Chloe. I frowned down at my now lightly bleeding arm. What the hell? How sharp are her freaking nails?
"What's wrong, Chloe?" Max asked, voice quiet and vaguely tender despite her posture drowning in hesitation like an over-dressed salad.
The girl muttered something unintelligible and burrowed even further into Max. God. If she climbs any further, she'll be- The cute little brunette frowned in thought, before her face cleared and she tightened her hold on Chloe. I matched her frown, only mine was in confusion instead of thought. "Can you tell us what hap-"
That's as far as I got before Max made a zipping motion over her mouth. I blinked. That was remarkably assertive for the little nerd. At my look, she shook her head in a blatant "I'll explain later" gesture.
I bowed to her apparent expertise and we stayed quiet as Chloe shook in Max's arms. Max looked hilariously uncomfortable with the whole situation, but she stayed there for a full twenty minutes. A little after the mark, when Chloe's shakes had slowed, Max pushed the girl gently back and lifted her chin to meet Max's eyes. Finally, she asked simply "What's wrong, Chloe?"
"I-" Chloe started, before her shoulders slumped and her gaze dropped down to the floor. I was utterly alarmed to hear a slight quaver to her voice, like it was all she could do not to keep crying. Max's expression turned heartbroken. I lean forward and put a hand on Chloe's shoulder, rubbing gently at her back.
"I nearly died tonight. I really would've, if someone hadn't rescued me."
I blinked in shock and Max just went utterly still. Chloe didn't look up, continuing. "There were three of them, there was- there were knives and... I think they were really gonna kill me. Not like, my own fuck-uppiness driving them to it either, they were just gonna do it. Do me in, just..." She took a few deep breaths, let the words settle around us for almost a minute. I pushed down my dread-filled concern that threatened to explode out onto my face - Chloe hated that expression with a passion. Too much like pity for the stubborn girl's taste. "Just because they could. Fuckers."
"That's terrible, Chloe." Max's voice was quietly empathetic. "It sounds really scary."
Chloe just nodded. She wiped at her unmentionably-watery eyes. That's when she flipped completely. A fist flew out and into the wall. I blinked at the surprisingly deep hole. There was a crack of light shining through the next room's wall. Ugh. Another one, really? Man, my parents are really going to kill me. A little mental chuckle in my mind. I'll talk them out of it. Or put up a new poster. I have been eyeing that Bieber one for a while now... Mmm. Those abs.
Chloe growled. "They could've fucking killed me! And I couldn't shit about it!" She pulled back for another punch and Max instantly grabbed Chloe's hand. I didn't even see her move! She just... wasn't there, then she was. Shit, that's still cool as hell. Chloe quivered in Max's grip for a second, the two staring intently at each other. Chloe's nose was flaring with each breath, her eyes narrowed and her jaw rattled ever so slightly. Max just kept calmly staring back.
After a few seconds passed, Max spoke. It was so quiet I had to strain to hear her. "I know, Chloe. I know how much it sucks to feel powerless like that. But it's not your fault. You're just someone something has happened to, not someone who's a victim, or who brought what happened on themselves."
"That's..." Chloe shook her head. "That's not what I mean."
"It isn't?" I blurted, before I could think it over. Chloe's slow head-turn and glare was admonishment to think more, though. I gave her a small grin. 'sorry.'
She snorted, actually grinned at me. "Real smooth, Rach." Shook her head once again. "No. It fucking isn't." The girl almost physically deflated in front of us, sagging down to sit back on the bed. "There was a girl," I raised my eyebrows. Oh, really? There was, was there? "She saved me." Huh. Maybe I was on the wrong track. I mentally apologised, then tuned in once again. "Took down the fuckers like they were fucking nothing. She was... it was like she was some kind of ninja. In a cowboy outfit."
Max didn't twitch - which was odd, because a freaking cowgirl rescuer definitely merited some form of 'what the fuck?' - but I definitely reacted appropriately. "Wait, like, a poncho, stetson, cowboy boots, type cowboy? Did she have a six-shooter?"
Chloe chuckled darkly. "No, no 'six-shooter'. She had a crossbow."
I gaped. As Max would say, 'Wowzers'. As I might say 'what in the actual fuck'. "A crossbow? Like that guy in the Walking Dead?"
"Nah. More like, uh," She clicked her fingers, eyes casting about for something to jolt her memory. "Van Helsing! Y'know, the movie one? With the Mythbuster dude on the team?"
"Oh. Hugh Jackman." Yum.
"Yep. That's the one. It was like that, but stuck to her fucking arm."
"Like a prosthetic?"
Chloe gave me a look. "No, just-" She scowled, sighed, threw up her arms. "Fucking forget it, it's not important."
"Okay. So, what is important?" I asked, leaning in slightly. Something interesting was about to be said, I knew it. Chloe had that expression on her face, like she held all the cards and was so utterly thrilled with the situation that she could barely contain the urge to share them. I used to find it annoying, until I met her step-douche and heard about Max and her Dad. Poor girl didn't get to feel like that often, so... I just roll with it now.
"She called herself 'The Stranger'."
I blinked. She called herself... the Stranger? "Stranger?" I asked, hoping to confirm.
She nodded. "Yep."
Shit. That's... what I thought. Oh no. Those files were... This is going to end badly, I just know it. "That's... quite a name." I said, knowing I had to keep things moving. I am the sparkling conversationalist. I am not the one who gets distracted all the time. I am the sparkling conversationalist. I am not the one who gets distracted all the time. Ahem.
"Yep."
"Sounds like she played cowboys and Indians too much as a kid."
"Yep."
"Are you going to say anything else?"
"Nope."
"Heh."
"Rachel."
"Chloe."
"Max?"
She jolted. "What?"
We both turned to look at her, as she stared blankly back. "Sorry, I was... Sorry." She flushed, looked down at her feet and shuffled her left along the floor.
Chloe and I both glanced at each other, mirth dancing in our eyes and a collective 'd'aww' that the warning look in Chloe's eye was telling me I had better never ever share with Max. Until Chloe was out of earshot, anyway. Heh. "Yes, we gathered that much."
Max gave us a small smile, big eyes peering out from beneath her bangs, then turned her attention back to Chloe. "So, what is it, then?"
Chloe held up for a moment, then sagged. For a moment, I thought she might try flop back on the bed. Lucky she didn't, really. She'd either fall off or hit her head and the one thing that would probably help this situation least is cranial trauma. She kept her eyes on the floor as she answered. "It was something she said, right before she left."
I noticed Max frowning out the corner of my eye. She seemed to be thinking again, so I poked her. Back in the moment, Maxie. She didn't react for a moment, then drew her attention back to Chloe. "What'd she say?" I asked.
Chloe took in a long, deep breath. "She said, 'Sometimes, everyone needs a little help. You needed help. I was in a place where I could help you'." She paused in her recitation and her mouth twisted in irony. "She took down three guys who were gonna kill me, and... I wasn't even in a place where I could help me." She made an expression I'd never seen on her face before, all open and despairing. Fuck. It sent a cold feeling through my chest, and a bleak sort of hollowness that I couldn't quite describe. "Like, what do I even do? I sit around all day, get stoned, piss about with you two when you get out of class... I'm a dropout loser with no fucking future, no nothing."
"So, what," I tilted my head. "You want to get back into Blackwell?" I... couldn't quite keep the disbelief from my voice, and all three of us noticed.
Chloe actually raised her eyebrow at me. I couldn't help the slight catch in my breathing either. "Hah, no. Like Wells'd ever go for that." She laughed, and I relaxed. "Nah, that ship's long fucking sailed, burned, and sunk to the bottom of the ocean." A pause. "Sorry Max. Shit metaphor."
The girl gave a small shrug. Another quiet moment passed. I took my opportunity. "So, what are you thinking?"
"I have no fucking idea."
I could've laughed. That was so Chloe and the expression was so bemusedly baffled that it was comical. Pure, unbridled 'I haven't a fucking clue what I want, but I know I want it now'. That is the first step, I suppose. "Maybe we could take you on a journey of self-exploration. Eat, Pray, Love, you know?"
"I think I'm good on the 'self-exploration', thanks."
I raised an eyebrow of my own. She grinned rakishly, but it didn't quite reach her eyes. I rolled mine. Her grin made it a little further up her face.
"You want a purpose."
We both turned at Max's sudden words. Every part of her body was still and frozen, except her eyes. She was staring at Chloe, burning and intense. I mentally fanned myself before turning to look at Chloe with her. "Well..?" I drew the word out, leaning in and batting my eyes. Come on, Chloe. Give us something. "Is she on the mark, Chlo'?"
"I mean, I guess..? I wouldn't say it like that, but shit. Sure, why not." She threw up her arms again. Her voice started to grow in volume, ending with a yell. I should be strongly worried about further holes in my walls. "A purpose. Something to do with my shitty, waste of a fucking life!"
"Chloe, you aren't a waste." Max said. Her voice brooked no debates. "You're just still finding your feet. Sometimes that takes longer than you might want it to, and that's okay. Look at me, it took me five years on a desert island to work out what I want to do."
"Oh please," She scowled. "You knew exactly what you wanted to do from age fucking seven. I remember hella tiny you running around with dad's camera, even if you fucking don't."
Max shrugged. "And wants change. It's not like there was a dark-room on the Island," A pause. "I had to find other wants, because that was the life I had. You'll find yours, I promise." Max gently lay her hand on Chloe's shoulder. "Maybe this change'll be what brings yours."
"Maybe that's what she meant." I chipped in. Both of them peered adorably at me. So cute and curious. "She's found her purpose, helping people out like that, so now you have the opportunity to go find yours." I shrugged. "You know, use the chance she's given you well and all."
Chloe looked at me. "You're right."
"Oh good." I said, letting out a breath. I paused, mid-exhale, and frowned. Wait. I am? "What am I right about?"
"I have to go find her."
I paused. That was... something of a non-sequitur. "You have to find her? Why?"
"Yeah. I need to say... I dunno, fucking thank you, or something. I... I don't know. I just need to..." She sighed, slumped down and her head dropped into her hands. She muffled a growl into them. "I don't know. I just thought it and it seemed right. Like it fit, y'know? Like, I could do something that actually fucking matters." She shook her head. Max and I shared a look over Chloe's shoulders. The girl looked... Hah. Her eyes were wide, her lips twitched through soundless words, and she seemed to be almost curling in on herself the more Chloe spoke.
Poor girl. I didn't think she'd've gotten this nervous, or I might've... no, Rachel. She needed to be here. Chloe wants her here, even if she doesn't know it. And Max... the tiny girl, quivering there, but standing tall and terrified of/for her best friend in all the world. She needed to be here too.
"You can't."
Chloe looked at Max. The girl seemed surprised she'd even talked, a hand going up to gently graze her throat as her eyes went wide. Her lips moved again, ever so slightly, though I had no idea what she was mouthing. She shook her head suddenly, looked up to meet Chloe's eye, then gulped. Quickly amended. Or possibly added. "You shouldn't."
"Why?" Chloe demanded, nostrils flaring as she glared at Max. The poor girl had started to shake, ever so slightly, so I, the glorious and generous Rachel, elected to divert the Dragon's wrath upon me.
So, I interjected.
"Well, how about the fact that she kills people with a medieval weapon?"
"Actually, they used crossbows in China in, like, the 700s BC and Greece in the 400s BC." Chloe retorted. What the- Oh, right. I'd almost forgotten those times we'd stay up watching Forged in Fire. Good times.
"Okay... fair enough. A Chinese weapon, then." When the girl said nothing, I pressed harder. "Come on, Chloe. This ninja chick is dangerous, I don't... I don't want you to get hurt."
"Please, Chloe-" Max's voice cracked, edging upward to manic as she leaned in to the following ramble. Each word pursued the next like an obsessive prison guard going after a recurring-escapee who only stole bread. "I know it's selfish and I know it's wrong of me to ask this, but please don't go after her. I can't take losing you like I've lost everyone else. I can't do it. It'll just... I won't survive it, I know I won't, and-"
Chloe's eyes suddenly widened, then narrowed. Oh no. I saw her open her mouth to retort to Max and I... stepped in between them, both literally and figuratively. And futilely. Ugh. "Come on, Chloe. Calm down. You know she's just saying it because she cares."
"Yeah," Chloe leaned back as I leaned in to her. Heh. "She totally gives a shit, barely listening to me at all! She hella doesn't think I can do it!"
"No, she - and I, remember" I punctuated each word with a poke to her tit. Her left, in case you were wondering. "-don't think you should do it. You can do whatever you put your mind to, but if you do this, you'd be making a mistake."
"A mistake, huh?"
"Yes." I said simply. "One that could get you killed."
Her nostrils flared, and I could see her jaw tightening, and I knew that I'd pushed too hard. Fuck. Three, two-
She exploded, right on schedule. She pushed her face almost right up against mine as she yelled. It wasn't a bad strategy - I'd seen others get quite intimidated by her little display. "That's all I'm fucking good at, huh? Fuck-up Chloe, at it again, hella screwed without her wise-fucking-counsel Rachel to keep from ruining her life!"
"That's not what I meant." I don't know why I was bothering. At this point, it didn't matter what I said. Chloe was pacing back and forth, hands and tresses flying about as she... passionately spoke about how terrible things were. With each lap, her words got more rapid-fire and her hands and hair flounced even more angrily. "Come on, Chloe. Please sit down so we can tal-"
That's as far as I got.
"Fuck that! Guess I'll go make my fucking mistakes on my own, like I always do!" Chloe charged over to the door, yanking it open with a force that I half expected to put yet another hole in my wall. I looked at the wall - clear - oh, well that's good. And when I looked back, the doorway was empty. I looked back to Max, sitting silently next to me, staring off into the middle distance. Poor thing. That can't've been easy to see. A lot's changed since she le- was gone.
Chloe's changed a lot, since she was gone.
We both sat for a second, silent in the room but oh-so-loud inside our heads. "So." I started, "That went well."
Max let out a bitter little laugh. She didn't say anything. Perhaps the laugh was answer enough. After the silence descended once again, I felt eyes on me and looked up, mine meeting hers. "Why did you do that?"
"Huh?" I frowned. "Do what?"
"You stepped in between us." A slight narrowing of her brow and an even slighter tilt of her head was all that tipped me off to her feelings of confused irritation. "Why did you do that?"
I gestured weakly to the hole in the wall. "I know she probably wouldn't do anything, but I didn't want-" I took a deep breath. "I wasn't going to let her do anything she'd really regret."
Max stared at me for a long, long moment. Her eyes seemed almost anime-esque and there was an open honesty to her expression that made me smile. Eventually, her face slowly grew into a smile of her own. "And she won't regret putting a hole in your wall?"
I snorted, crossed my arms. "Not even a little bit. Move the painting to your left."
She did, and actually laughed at the other gaping hole. "Oh."
We both stared at the hole, sat in silence for another few seconds before... "Rachel?" She said, in a small voice.
I looked away from the hole and back to her. She wasn't looking at me. "Yeah, Max?"
Her shoulders dropped. "...thanks."
Aww. I smiled, feeling warm in my chest. "Anytime."
Another few quiet moments passed as - I assume - we both mulled over the events of the last half hour. Sooner or later... well. I just couldn't help myself. I suddenly adjusted on the bed, turning to face Max. "So, why don't you want Chloe to find this mystery woman?" I tilted my head. "This sounds exactly like one of those adorably piratey adventures you two went on as kids." And it really did. Bold hero, rescuing the damsel from the terrifying rogues when their back was against the wall before swaggering off into the sunset. Cap'n Bluebeard would've killed for that kind of opportunity.
"Pirates were rapists, murderers, slavers, and thieves." Max said, shrugging.
I blinked. Max simply continued to look intently at me. She definitely expected me to understand. I definitely didn't. There was a rather simple way to solve that issue, though. "What do you mean by that?"
"We were children. We didn't know anything about how things actually were. This... vigilante. She's dangerous. If Chloe gets mixed up in that... It won't end well." Thousand yard stare once again. I poked her. "What about you?" She asked.
"Same."
"Same?"
"Same."
"Rachel."
She just looked at me, smiling that tiny damned smile that makes something just... click inside my head. Like a key finally unlocking a door that'd been straining for years. I sighed. Cringy metaphors aside, she made a fair point. Not the time. I spared a second or two for a glance towards the door, a flash of blue hair and devastated eyes flickering through my mind. Shit. "My... dad. He's a bastard, but he's good at what he does."
Max tilted her head. "What does he do?"
"District Attorney."
"Oh."
"Yeah. Anyway. He doesn't trust vigilantes like this... Stranger person. Says that even if they don't kill people in the beginning, it's only a matter of time. They just want to hurt people, but they don't have the guts to do it right away. The crimefighting's-" I put all the scorn I can manage into the word. "-just an excuse. They're all 'look at me, I'm doing good things', all the while they're secretly getting off on the violence. Getting more confident 'til they can do what they really want to do - hurt people."
Max stayed quiet, listening. I appreciated that. Life is always better when I'm allowed to do all the talking. And this was... I wasn't sure I'd be able to keep talking, if she let me stop. "When I was a kid, I snuck into his office - jimmied the lock on the window - and took some of his files." I swallowed, shook my head. "Jesus. Some of the things people do to each other. I had nightmares for a month afterward."
"God, Chloe, I..." I sighed. "Don't misunderstand, I'm so grateful this person saved Chloe. Maybe they're not bad now. Maybe they even have good reasons for what they're doing. But I don't want her getting dragged down with this Stranger when they do start getting all... fucked up." And then I stopped talking. Finally ran out of words, I guess. Certainly was a struggle to find those last ones. I tried to draw myself up. It was harder than I expected.
Max paused, going completely still once again. I could see the cogs turning in that pretty little head of hers, gathering her thoughts together. It was the only part of her that seemed to be moving. When she started speaking, her voice was tight, careful. Controlled. Was she trying not to offend me? "I hope you're wrong, Rachel. But I agree that Chloe shouldn't get mixed up in this. A person like that... they probably want to fulfil their vendetta alone."
"Hmm." I tried to put it into my voice that I was genuinely considering her opinion. That I wasn't offended by her partial disagreement. "A lone wolf type, you think?"
Max's body started to move again. Ever so slightly, but there was a twitch there. I grinned. "Yeah." She said. "I think so. They had to have chosen the Lone Stranger outfit for a reason."
"Maybe you're right." I shrugged. "I guess we'll have to wait and see." We both went silent for a second - the conversation was done. So, I clapped my hands together and did what I do with style and grace. "Okay! So, how do we stop her from ignoring us entirely and going out and doing whatever she thinks is best?"
Max actually laughs at that, wide and pleased and open. It was amazing how a laugh could transform her face. I just smiled back helplessly. Jesus, the freckles. The freckles! "We work together. Breakfast tomorrow?"
My heart raced and I very emphatically tamped down on that furious pitter-patter, then flashed her a broad grin. "It's a da... I'd love to."
*flashback begins*
The town was just ahead, over the last hill and sprawled in the valley below. If she was fast enough, smart enough, good enough, she could- The final corner turned, she arrived to find the town burning. The entire thing wasn't yet fully ablaze, but she could spot pockets of fire beginning to grow in the few areas not engulfed. She cursed. She was already too late! Months of work protecting this place, and one injury damned it to burn. Her side twinged, with guilt more-so than pain.
Without hesitation, she charged down.
The momentum of her descent carried her forward into the town. The heat of the flames coming from the buildings washed over her, but she paid it no heed as she ran on. The lumpen, fleshy buildings burned readily, and corpses littered the streets. Each one was charred. What few expressions she could see were... horrified and pained.
It was a matter of seconds before she hit the center of town, the small stronghold of Prescott influence standing free in the middle of an open space around fifty meters in diameter. It was a sharp, squat looking building of rusted metal, roughly welded together to leave myriad points and scars across it like pockmarks. The surface was already burning, bubbling under the flames across it.
She ignored it. Either the Prescott agents of the town were sealed inside, in which case they were not her problem, or they were elsewhere, in which case the building was irrelevant.
Still, she took a moment, standing at the edge of the open space, to think. It had been many months, and the roads had changed. The direction she sought was... She cursed, racking her mind for hopes of recalling. It was the path to the left of... the three-horned home. Yes! She paced around the space's edge, looking for it.
Several screams caught her ears, and she began to follow.
They lead her to another squat building - this one an odd patchwork pile of stone and wood arrayed around the same odd (and unpleasant) fleshy substance. Half of the somewhat dumpy first floor was surrounded by barrels and boxes under a mix of thick netting and tarp - containers that she knew to contain the tools and resources of the occupant's trade.
Unlike most buildings here, it had a second floor - equally dumpy, the structure of the second floor looked oddly like a mushroom growing out of the room of the first. Two poorly fitted shutters sat closed on the walls of the bottom floor, a few feet either side of a rough wooden door covered in metal studs. The door was blocked by burning debris. At first look, the top had nothing. So, she went for the shutters. The moment she pulled one open, fire exploded from the windows and smoke billowed out and the screams intensified.
She looked up from where the explosion had knocked her. She could feel the blood slipping down her gums, and spit out a gob of viscera that also contained a tooth or two. She let out a low curse. They were upstairs. That made things more... difficult. She scrambled over to the other shutter and yanked it open. Far less careful than she should've been, but no matter. She was prepared for the explosion this time around, and leapt to the side just in time to avoid the fire. Another curse. Her options were vanishing fast.
She only had one more trick left to pull - if it didn't work... Well. Her Contact inside would die, and there'd be little she could do to avoid the Blood Haze. So, she drew her sword. She'd need a weak spot. A few glances upward, across the surface of the building, and- her eyes narrowed and her gaze locked on. There. She took a breath to call up her abilities and ran up the side of the building, waiting for the moment before gravity became too much for her momentum to fight, then tilted her foot at the right angle to give her a leaping-off point. With a burst of Prescott-given strength, she hurled herself upwards and jammed the point of her sword into the flesh of the upper floor. It sank in, digging greedily through the meat 'til hilt met wall.
Even hanging there, one-handed from her sword, she couldn't quite hold back the grin of satisfaction.
She pulled herself in, bracing her whole body for heat and getting exactly what she expected. The blazing heat washed over her like a bucket of water to the face. A flaring of instinct pushed her back just in time to avoid the collapse of the stairs beneath her. She dropped back onto the upper landing, and took a glance through the arch to her right. Empty. Of course. She cursed, and her lungs spasmed as the smoke swept into her. Her chest wracked with pain.
She rushed forward, sword out. It took barely a moment to hack through the door, and she forced herself into her contact's room. Their hulking, heavyset form - akin to a great ape, though with dusky leather in place of dark fur - took up almost the whole of the corner they were collapsed in. Their four long, large ears hanging loosely from their head - two on the top and two on the sides - twitched slightly as she entered. Their trunk-ish proboscis lay flat on the floor, the mouth-end opened widely as the creature gasped.
Both trunk and ears twitched again, and the large head slowly raised. The deep, vacant sockets in their sallow face seemed to pierce into her as a voice gasped out- "He-help. ME."
While the voice wavered with weakness, it also blazed with compulsion, setting a burning feeling in her gut to do as it asked. Her first steps forward faltered as the Hunter rattled at its cage. She attempted to push through, clearing the room in a moment and falling to her knees beside it. As she reached out, the Hunter screamed.
The fraying compulsion snapped instantly.
The Hunter stepped forward, hands raised to tear off this creature's ears, to leave it for dead. She wrestled it back and with a force of will, the cage snapped shut. The Hunter screamed again. Her hands shook as she stared at the creature. At the impudent thing that tried to control her. The Hunter howled, another vision of tearing and rending appearing in mind.
She shook her head. No. She needed this creature. So, she summoned up another burst of strength - feeling the fatigue of exertion settle into her shoulders - and hoisted them to their feet. They visibly shook with pain and weariness, but stood strong. "Go!" She yelled, and the four ears twitched again.
Her Compulsion took.
The creature began to lumber forward, staggering from wall to wall. The whole damned building shook as it slammed into the walls. She cursed and ran forward, looping one of the creature's heavy arms over her shoulders. "Go!" She yelled again.
She helped the creature limp forward, moving together like the awkwardly mismatched three-legged race partners they were. They burst into the main stairwell, and she cursed one hell of a blue streak. The stairs had gone. She looked up. Her other exit was out of reach. Of course it was. She'd have to-
A huge meaty hand suddenly wrapped around her and lifted. Her contact howled, and threw her towards the gap.
Bits of flesh and plank tore through her as she tore through them. She landed with a grunt, all the air shoved roughly out of her. A moment later, a hulking form came after her. The small hole had become a gaping maw, broken edges like jagged teeth in the flesh-mass home.
They landed with a psychic shriek that tore through her. Automatically, her hands flew to her ears. They didn't block a thing. She screamed in pain as her vision went pure-white. After a moment, things cleared. Her contact was breathing heavily, each movement of the chest hitching worryingly, but their sockets were focused on her. The empty space spoke somehow of apology.
She just glared at them. The creature tensed, like they were about to move. Her shoulders slumped. "Thanks."
Her contact grinned. The slit at the end of their trunk expanded as if to speak, but their face fell and a long, shaking finger raised to point behind Max. She turned to look.
Two hulking figures lumbered from a side-road filled with flames. Their forms shined like steel beneath the layers of ash and blood clinging to their forms. All except for a large, reptilian eye that deliberately scanned the area around them - the pupil moved slowly, like the sclera was made of viscous pudding. Each arm was tipped with a long, curved, cruel claw, with jagged teeth along its length, coming to a point in a sharp talon.
Fuck. Cyclopes. She couldn't let them hurt anyone else. But they... Come on, Max. Forward. Take the fucking step! One of them looked up, and soon the pair of eyes focused on her. Max. You have to move. You have to move now!
She didn't.
The right one stepped forward, the footstep shaking the ground around it. A single claw suddenly slid out from a meaty, thick limb. Another rapid burst of motion. Absently, she noted the cracks forming with each step across the fire-dried ground. With a speed unexpected for the size of this thing, it lashed out at her and suddenly The Hunter could move.
She leaned back and pushed off the floor with her heels, skipping back out of its reach in a moment. But the thing was blindingly fast, and kept on her, swinging wildly. She went left, right, left, left, the thing pushing and pushing. Eventually, her back slammed against a solid surface - one of the houses - and she swore.
The Cyclops knew it had her. It charged forward, hurling its claws out in a series of blindingly fast strikes. One of the jagged-toothed talons scraped along her side, opening up her outfit and skin to the air.
A flash of pain, of memory, information pouring in. Instinct taking over.
When one came in low, the Hunter took hold. She let it in, then grabbed and pulled, using a bit of her own strength to ram it into the wall. If her wager was right... the teeth caught! The cyclopes let out an odd, rattling squawk as it tried to yank the arm back out of the wall. She grabbed it by the shoulder, then pulled it down, kneeing it in the eye. The answering howl of pain was glorious.
The caustic syrup now coating her knee, less so.
The beast pulled back, and the eye was suffused with blood.
The Hunter snarled, then kneed it again. Before she could stop it, The Hunter twirled into the thing's guard, grabbed its still-free arm and rammed it up to the elbow into the eye.
There was a keening gurgle, and then it slowed, and then it stopped, slumped, stayed. The Hunter's lips curled into a teeth-baring smile. Then her head flicked up, and her eyes locked onto the other Cyclops that was attempting to back off.
She charged forward.
The Cyclops stopped, curled, and met her charge. She saw the muscles tensed as it launched forward. She brought up her Power and everything slowed. She stepped forward, ducking under the first strike and leaning past the next. It adapts quickly, dodging back and taking another swing that she has to pirouette around and leap back from the other that follows it.
The deadly dance continued.
She found it harder and harder to keep dodging. Everything felt cold, and weak, and oh so slow.
She spun around, bending her body around a low stab, twirling out of the thing's reach, then back in the moment she saw an opening. She drew back a fist and in one desperate, clumsy thrust punched deep into the thing's eye.
Everything froze for a moment, and she saw... something. Swirls of blood and bismuth, all shining and many-angled and yet wondrously smooth all at once. Then the eye surged forward and the viscous goop swept up her arm. She swore and tried to pull back, but the thing clamped harder. Held firm. She could feel it on her, eating through her. Another flash of blue and scarlet, and she could see patterns forming in the shapes. As she stared, as she followed the lines of those nebulous swirls, she found herself warming. The cold and the pain retreated, knots unravelled, and worries just floated away.
Her breathing started to even out, and even the arm being slowly crushed felt like a distant dream. Dreaming sounded good. So very, very good. She could, couldn't she? Hadn't she earned the right to rest, after all these... months? Years? Just a few moments of peace. That would be so bad, would it?
The blue and red encompassed her whole vision now. All she could see was the patterns slowly undulating together and around each other.
Suddenly, there was a clang and a feral scream. She blinked, and the colours shattered. Her eyes rapidly focused as six forms swept out of the shimmering towards the Cyclops. One caught her eye, almost as tall as the Cyclops itself. She blinked again, finding herself having to force her eyelids back open. Her hand was still buried in the creature's eye, but that gave her the perfect angle to peer past it and spot the humanoid stepping back, flicking blood from their blade.
Two identical, purpled faces appeared at each side of her vision. The one to her left grinned brightly. "Hi! Let's help you out of there." They pulled up a small, but hefty looking handaxe and sliced into the creature's eye. Another feral scream, and the blue crept into her vision again.
The one to her right flashed an almost-identical grin, the same aside from the two lower incisors that they were missing. They pulled a long, thin stiletto dagger that they promptly jammed into the eye. A moment later, they brought a hammer and knocked the dagger fully into the creature's eye.
The eye spasmed and released her, and the two promptly grabbed her by the shoulders and dragged her back as the creature continued to be wracked by spasms. The ground beneath them cracked and burned as the creature shook.
The eye vibrated. The large, bloodied pupil shook and suddenly met Max's own. She saw a flash of panic, and then the eye exploded. The creature fell to its knees and then collapsed on the ground and then went still.
Max and her seven new companions-in-battle stood and watched the creature slowly melt into the ground.
People slowly began to return to the streets, survivors crawling from their various hidden spots to watch or fight the flames around them. Soon, a crowd gathered around them, sharing their silent observation of the decaying monster that'd attacked the town. A thought occurred to her. "Are there other attackers?"
The first figure, the one with the sword, shook their head - long hair flicked gracefully back and forth, obscuring their handsome face. Their skin was a pleasant olive green. "No more. We fought off the attackers - thugs from a rival town a few miles east. These things escaped from the Prescott post." Their voice was... odd. It sounded like three voices talking at once, then in turn, then all at once again. Her eyes flicked down to the creature's throat and she saw it bulged like a bullfrog's vocal sac. Ah. An E-Series.
"I thought your series had been wiped out."
The vocal sac bulged to an almost comical degree, and she could see things swimming beneath the translucent skin like worms. "Not quite."
One of the twins chimed in. She frowned and checked the faces again. One of the triplets, she amended. "What's your series?"
"M." She answered simply. She knew what the response would be. It was... inevitable. It was right. A horrified gasp swept through the crowd.
"Filthy creature. Get the hell out of our town!" A voice called out. Another quickly joined them. "Yeah! We don't want your kind here! You'll go mad and kill us all!" Then another, and another, until the whole sodden horde was screaming invectives at her.
She sighed and straightened up, turning to leave yet another place. A voice, barely breathed out, barely audible through the shouts, stopped her in her tracks.
"You're her..."
The Hunter rattled warily at its cage, eyes glaring out at the individual who'd barely breathed that out. The crowd went quiet. Max, however, simply tilted her head. Her eyes still locked on them too. The Hunter wasn't wrong to be... wary. "Her?" She asked, simply.
The Individual flushed. Long, matted hair the colour of rotting wood covered their face, only showing a thick, sharp jaw full of dark teeth. "The... the... Stranger. The one who killed Stone and-" A pause, to work their jaw and spit a gob of dark red onto the ground. "her people seven months ago. The Hero of Rala."
Stranger. Straaanger. She paused, couldn't quite control the slow, satisfied grin. Baxter's over there, Rojo's there, her right smack in the middle. Oh yes. Her dad would be thrilled.
"Rala?"
"Her... their island. That's what the people called it."
She tilted her head. "And where are we now?"
"Talaha."
Her lips pursed. "Talaha." She repeated, tasting the word. "Well, here's hoping I'll be the hero of Talaha, too."
The individual laughed. "Agreed, Stranger."
"Hero of Rala, huh?" The E-Series asked, their voices melding together again. New voices, too.
Max simply shrugged.
The E-Series laughed. A small shiver ran down her spine, as the tone of it skipped high and low and high again. "Not a big talker are you? That's okay. I talk enough for the lot of us. Right?"
The other six members of their party nodded. The E-Series clapped their hands together. Her eyes automatically followed the motion, noting the slight shaking of their arms jarring the otherwise smooth gesture. "Well, introductions are in order then!"
The first figure had six arms protruding from rough slits all over their clothing - there were far more slits than arms visible - and the shoulders that held their head seemed to bulge uncomfortably beneath the fabric. An H-Series, she noted quickly. An early generation, judging by the bulges. The later generations certainly had... streamlined things. "That's Shad, he's our tech-wiz."
'Shad' nodded. The motion seemed uncomfortable for him, and the bulges rippled like a bag of wasps.
The E-Series pointed to the next, "And the lovely lady is Rell,"
The lovely lady scowled. Max noted Rell's eyes - they were hawk-like and so sharp Max could almost feel their gaze crawling over her. The woman seemed to be clad entirely in feathers, which swept down into a long cloak that billowed out behind her and trailed across the group. "She's our Spotter."
Then came the three purple-skinned and identical people, "the Triplets are Tarry, Hinder, and Vikram," each grinned and bowed in unison, leaving Max no idea which one matched which name. From their grins, she guessed that was deliberate. The L-Series always had been... unique.
"And last but not least, Jane."
The hulking figure grinned. Even the simple motion of the face sent ripples across the thick, meaty muscle that made up the R-Series entire body. The form was squatter than the cyclopes, but fully capable of tearing an arm clean off if they wanted.
"You pretty."
Max stared at 'Jane'. After a moment, she smiled hesitantly back. "Thanks." She pushed the odd moment with the odd creature out of her mind and focused back on the E-Series. "And who are you?"
The E-Series pauses. The throat-sac bulges again, and an almost embarrassed flush spreads across their lower face. "Ah. I'm Sardaari Valli, at your service." He gives a long, deep bow that would absolutely be accompanied by a doffed hat, were he wearing one. Without straightening, he looked back up and smiled "Want to be friends?"
*flashback ends*
"Shit!" My head suddenly yanked to the side, and I nearly dropped the damned brush as pain shot through my head.
"Sweetie? Are you alright?" A voice called from downstairs. The pain seemed to block it for a moment, until- oh. "Sweetie?"
I quickly called back, ignoring that particular rabbit hole for the time being. There wasn't any point to it. "I'm fine! Just tried to comb a tangle!"
"Okay! Be down for breakfast in- Oh!" The voice suddenly jumped in surprise, then... there was a pause. Silence. I sat and listened as carefully as I could, ears burning for any sort of sign of... anything. Anyone.
Eventually, I tried a- "Mom?"
Nothing.
Another few moments passed, and I suddenly felt a bolt of pain from my hands. I looked down and- shit! I quickly opened my hands, letting the comb fall free and wincing at the cracks in the mother-of-pearl handle - shit, I thought, a little bit more horror settling in my chest as I contemplated the comb actually breaking - before stepping up from my stool. I had to focus. Losing the comb would be... but something is happening in my house and I don't know what. Has dad's job finally followed him home? Could something have..? What's... is she..? My heart pounded in my ears, almost deafeningly. The door suddenly swung open and I nearly screamed.
I didn't though. But it was close.
Still, a small voice, utterly confused, asked- "Rachel?"
I blinked in surprise, letting that almost-deafening pound of my heart rise for a whole new reason. "Max?!"
The tiny brunette peered up at me, taking me in. Her eyes widened once again, then she moved inward, glancing around the room. Her posture changed and her hands twitched upward, like she was ready to block a punch at a second's notice. "What's wrong? Are you alright?"
I let my lips spread in a sinfully slow smile as I looked her up and down. I tried to keep the deep breathing needed to slow my heart subtle, but I'm not sure I had the headspace to do it. I've got to admit, her standing there, ready to fight to protect me was... very, very... nice. Ahem. I meant distracting. I mean- I mean!
Ahem.
Max is here. Yay!
"Nothing's wrong, now you're here." I paused, hand going to my hip as I cocked it into a comfortable lean. Her eyes darted down to follow the movement. Interesting. "Not that I'm complaining - thoroughly ecstatic, actually - but why are you here?"
"I invited Chloe to breakfast." She went very still. "I thought we could go a little earlier and... talk strategy?"
I fucking beamed. Then, I quickly got control of it and restrained myself to a happy smile. "So, you came to pick me up? That's so cute, Max."
She flushed. "Uh, no. I don't have, um, transport, so I was hoping... you could pick me up?"
A delighted laugh just burst out of me as I guessed immediately at what she was angling toward. "Oh, I can absolutely see why you and Chloe are friends. She pulled the same trick on me, before we got that truck of hers picked up." I think I'm right, anyway. It was hard to predict Complex, Complicated, Mysterious Maxie. So, I stopped, tilted my head and looked hella curiously over Max's expression. Yes. Definitely right. "You just want to ride on the motorcycle again, don't you?"
Her mouth dropped open and she drew herself up, like she wanted to retort some absolute bullshit about that not being the case and- she slumped and just nodded. "Yeah."
I beamed once again, and fell a little more. Honesty. It's a wonderful thing. "Alright. Let's do it."
"Really?" Aww. That note in her voice was just so frickin' cute.
"Of course. I wouldn't mind taking another ride with you either," I gave her the cheesiest, skeeziest wink I could manage, and her answering blush was glorious. Her eyes were wide and so very, very blue. And ah, there's those freckles again.
She very emphatically averted her eyes back down to the floor. After a moment, and an almost-as-emphatic gritting of the jaw that clearly punctuated some kind of internal conversation, she lifted her eyes back up to meet mine. "That's, um... good."
Yes. Yes it is. But I don't say that. Instead, I just take her by the arm and guide her to the door. "Now, unless you really want a show, which I'd be more than happy to give you, Cutie." Somehow, she blushed more. It was magnificent. "I'm afraid I still have to get dressed before you take me out for breakfast."
"Ooo-kay. I'll see you downstairs?"
"It's a plan." I closed the door and turned around, drawing in a deep breath as I relaxed back into the wood. My eyes met mine in the mirror standing on the dresser. I let the breath out in a long sigh.
I am so fucked.
Fifteen minutes later, I practically skipped downstairs to find Max and my family chatting. My dad was even nodding approvingly at something she'd said before I walked down. "It's such a pleasure to find young people truly paying attention to the world around them these days."
Max said something current? That my dad thought was insightful enough to impress him? Shit, this is already going better than with... I bit my lip to suppress the next thought, a flash of blue flickering through my head. "Hi everyone."
Both my parents jumped. Rose put her hand to her chest and took a few deep gasping breaths. Max just slowly looked up at me with a smile. "Hi Rachel."
"Heya Maxie. What were you all talking about?"
"This 'Stranger' person that seems to have popped up out of nowhere." My dad filled in. "They're taking down criminals in Portland and the surrounding area. Max was just telling me what she'd been hearing on the news."
Ah. That's how she got 'current'. The perfect topic for the both of them. I turned to the girl in question and raised an eyebrow. "Was she now?"
Max nodded. "I'm trying to catch up on things I missed, and I figured it'd be a good topic of conversation for an assistant DA."
My dad laughed. Laughed. It took everything in me not to gape at him. "Awareness and wisdom both? You're going to go far, Max."
"Thank you, sir. That's very nice of you to say." Max gave me an utterly wide-eyed look. Should I rescue her? Or should I not? In all honesty, I couldn't decide which would be more fun. But in the end, my Dad decided for me.
"Now, it was lovely chatting with you, Max, but since my daughter is finally ready," I stuck out my tongue at him. My 'mother' and Max both noticed, he didn't. "We'll let you two get off to your breakfast."
She waited for him to stand first, then stood up and shook his hand. A two-pump shake. Nice. Her estimation rose even further in my dad's eyes. I slung an arm over her shoulder and grinned. "Right. Thanks Dad... Mom. We'll be heading out now. Call me if you need anything."
They both nodded amicably, and let us go with a simple called goodbye. I dragged Max over to the bike and tossed her a helmet. "Let's get going. You owe me some waffles, cutie."
She blushed again, and I fell just a little bit more.
I swung the bike left into the lot of The Two Whales and brought it to a stop. And then the bottom dropped out of my stomach. Shit. This is not good. "Maybe we should, um-" Um? I'm Rachel fucking Amber, I don't say 'Um'. "Let's go to the beach huts. I fancy some lobster rolls. Maybe some onion rings. A proper seafood breakfast, Max, like they do in Spain!"
"I've already told Chloe we'd be meeting here, Rachel."
"Sure, yes, you did, but we're also meeting earlier than her to plan." I said, inventing bullshit off the cuff like I did oh-so-well. "If we go somewhere else, she won't walk in midway through our conniving about her - plus her mom works here, Max."
"Joyce is on our side in this, Rachel."
I nearly turned fully around on the bike. "She's what?"
"She's on our side." Max shrugged. "She loves her daughter and wants her to be safe and happy. She thinks we're good for her, so she'll follow our lead."
"You... you have been busy, haven't you?"
She nodded. "I don't sleep much." A pause. "And she answered the door before Chloe did."
Even as nervous as I was - eyes away from the parking lot, Amber - I couldn't help the awkward chuckle at that. Not sure why. That wasn't actually funny. Oh, right. Yeah. That. "Okay, okay, lets- uh..." Something moved in one of the windows of the... thing. Barely a shadow, but it threw me like nothing else. I... I can't remember what I was going to say.
Max frowned at me, leant in a little bit closer. Our noses were barely two or three inches apart. Her eyes flickered over my face, so incredibly, beautifully blue, and then she nodded and leaned back again. Wow. "What's wrong?"
I blinked. Shook my head. What'd she say? "What?"
She raised an eyebrow, and repeated the question.
I sighed. "See that RV?"
She didn't look around. "Yes."
I frowned at her. Okay. That was... nope, it can wait. "I know the guy who owns it."
"It's a small town, Rachel. I imagine you probably know the owners of every car in the lot."
I couldn't help looking over her shoulder and actually counting. Red Ford Anglia is Carlos, Angela owns the truck (her license plate - 'ANN13G' was a dead giveaway), Mozie parks as badly as ever, the hideous yellow station-wagon is parked courtesy of the Bartles, and- I stop there, knowing full well I could keep going the whole way. Okay, maybe that's a fair point. "I know him a little... more than I know the others."
"Ah." She gave me an eerie, sympathetic look like she understood everything about me and accepted it all without question, and sweetly, sincerely, still wanted to be around me regardless of it. "What does that mean?"
Or maybe not.
I took a deep breath, avoided her eye. "I dated him. For awhile."
Max didn't really react. "Oh." She said. Though I suppose that was a reaction, of sorts. It just wasn't what I really expected.
I found myself saying more to fill the silence. "He sells drugs. And I'm pretty sure he's killed, like, two people. One of which was to protect me and Chloe I think, and he did rescue his dog from an illegal fighting pit, and-" Man, I really miss Pompidou. Gorgeous little guy. "and-... well, yes."
"Okay." Max said. She nodded, frowned, thought it over. Then she looked at me and tilted her head. The frown didn't vanish. "So, what's the problem?"
"You don't... think I made a mistake?" I asked, not quite recognising that nervous note in my voice. "Didn't make a stupid fucking mistake like some kid desperately chasing bad boys in an attempt to find some fun and life in this backwater town?"
That may have been too specific.
Max shrugged. "I've been on an Island for five years, Rachel. I have no fucking idea."
I can't help the wry little chuckle that escaped. Very fair point, that.
We managed to stride in to the diner. Several booths were mysteriously empty, and the counter was bereft of its normal morning rush. Joyce was nowhere to be found, so I took Max's hand and guided her over to a booth. I very carefully took one of the right, and did not look left.
"You want some waffles?"
She nodded effusively - and wowzah. Or is it wowzer? I forget, either way, I stopped and blinked mutely at her for a few full seconds before grinning. "Now I know the way to your heart, Maxie. Breakfast foods. That's the most expressive I've ever seen you."
She flushed. Aww. "Let's, um... sit down."
We did, sliding into the booth I'd picked at random. I pulled up a menu. She didn't: and when Joyce practically bounced over to our booth, rattled off her order without a pause. "Waffles. Stacked. Two bacon, three eggs-"
"And a roasted half-tomato." Joyce finished with a smile that made her look ten years younger. Or, I amended, looking at Max for a second, five years younger. "You've been thinkin' about that for a while now, haven't you Max?"
She nodded. "Five long years."
Joyce smiled again, but smaller and a little sadder. Those laugh lines of a long life of optimism and stubbornness creating a delightful cascade of crinkles across her face. God, that woman was gorgeous. "Sure thing, kid. I'll be right over. On the house."
Max blinked. "What? No, I-"
I put a hand over hers. I didn't fail to notice the sudden tenseness in her body. "Let her do it, Max." I murmured. I quickly removed my hand, a little sad to see the tenseness relax.
She turned to look at me, an evaluative look in her eye. I just stared back for a few moments. Then I winked. Another look fell over her face - one I couldn't quite place - and she nodded. "Okay."
Joyce beamed. "Alright. Good work, Rachel. You're working your magic on both of my kids." She laughed, turned and walked off. Max's mouth dropped open into a wide grin, and with her eyes looking how they did, she somehow managed to come across as shocked, delighted, and awkward at the same time. It was, quite frankly, hilarious.
We chatted lightly about nothing for a few minutes. Joyce quickly returned, two plates in hand (and no bill, as promised). We kept chatting. And chatting. And chatting.
Chloe never did show up to breakfast. And really, I found I honestly didn't mind. I don't know if that makes me a bad person. But Max was company enough for me.
