A/N: We interrupt your regularly scheduled programming to say Happy Halloween, everyone! This season being a big part of the LiS franchise, I decided to write something a little lighter to celebrate the holiday - I hope you enjoy! Credit to vonBoots, they lent a lot to my headcanon of where in Seattle the Caulfields live/what their house might be like
The rain came down in heavy sheets, making anything beyond the Caulfield's sloped backyard disappear into the gray torrent. Tiny rivers ran through the waterlogged grass below. Wind battered the window and rushed against the house's old siding as another short gust whipped up. As recently as the past Spring, Max had enjoyed sitting in her window nook and watching as the storms would roll in from the Puget Sound, a steaming cup of tea next to her and a book in hand, foregoing her headphones in lieu of the natural music of the weather. Even a month ago, still in Arcadia Bay, she'd been looking forward to the shifting season. That all changed twenty days ago. Since then, anything more than a light drizzle threatened to upend Max's sense of calm. As if on cue, a branch or something else knocked loose by the storm thunked onto the roof. Max flinched. She sat curled up in a blanket on the couch, trying her best not to look like she was cowering.
Either she'd successfully fooled Chloe, or her best friend was doing that thing again where she tried to distract Max by acting like nothing was wrong. Chloe stopped pacing and did an abrupt heel turn, putting her palms together and pointing at Max with both hands. "Your parents have garbage bags, right? Like the big, heavy-duty ones?"
"Uh, I think so. In the garage, maybe?" Max said, eyebrows scrunching down and toward each other. "Why?"
"Never made a redneck poncho before, Maximus?" Chloe asked with a grin.
Max shook her head. "You're ridiculously determined to go out there tonight, you know that?"
Chloe sat on the couch next to her and gave her a confused side-eye. "Well duh. It's Halloween – only, like, my most favorite holiday ever. We even got pirate costumes!" She smirked, playfully giving Max a little shove. "C'mon, Max. Don't tell me you're not excited."
"I was," Max said, but rapidly corrected as Chloe's happy façade drooped at the words. "I mean I am. Captain Bluebeard and Long Max Silver ride again, right?" She feared the smile she flashed Chloe had come off more sheepish than enthusiastic.
Apparently it had worked. "Hell yes we do!" Chloe leapt back to her feet. It was like she was a little kid again, bubbly and excited. Max hoped some of it would wear off on her. "Now help me find those bags."
Max followed Chloe down to the garage. Her dad's parking spot was empty save a large oil stain on the concrete, but the rest of the space was something of a catastrophe. Gardening tools, boxes of screws and nails, camping equipment, and a whole host of other odds and ends had begun to overflow the wooden shelving that had come with the house. A whole stack of folded-up boxes had slid off of each other, blocking the back corner. Max straightened them back up as Chloe started to rummage.
Max scanned a shelf. "I think they should be around here, near the rakes." Her parents had put her and Chloe in charge of collecting the leaves that had fallen in the back yard and bagging them up last weekend, and she was sure that had been the last time they were used.
"A-ha!" Chloe reached past her and grabbed the battered yellow and green box, pulling two bags from the roll before handing it to Max to put back.
They regrouped in the kitchen. Chloe had fished out a pair of scissors from the junk drawer and was just finishing cutting a neck hole in one bag. She handed it to Max. "Here – make sure it fits."
Max slipped her thumbs into the edge of the bag and shook it by the corners to open it up, trying to quickly step into it before it deflated. Instead she ended up stuck. Still able to breath but unable to find a way out, she started to flail. "Gah! Chloe, little help please."
Chloe let out a high-pitched laugh and lifted the bag back off of her friend. "Careful! Here." She held the bag up and helped Max into it. Max saw light again as her head popped out of the opening Chloe had made at the top, feeling the static crackle in her hair. Laughing again, Chloe said, "With hair that frizzy, maybe you should've dressed up as Gene Wilder in Young Frankenstein."
Max chuckled along with her. "Good thing we're going to be wearing bandanas and pirate hats." She ran her fingers through her hair, trying in vain to get it to lay flat again.
The wind howled, and Max felt herself tense up.
"Let's get in costume, then! We don't want to be late." Chloe helped Max back out of the bag, and they went to her room.
Their costumes were already laid out on the bed. They were nothing extravagant, mostly odds and ends they'd pieced together at the nearest thrift shop. Neither of the friends had much money to spare. Unlike how Max expected most of the other women at the party would be dressed, there was nothing particularly sexy about what they wore – no corsets, or kinky boots, or short skirts. Neither of them planned to put on any elaborate makeup. Not that there's anything wrong with those things, thought Max. It's just not Chloe's and my style. Still, sexy costume or no, watching Chloe slip out of her t-shirt and start putting on her ruffly blouse Max couldn't stop a fluttery feeling from rising in her stomach. Before her cheeks had a chance to turn red, she turned away.
If Max was being honest, she'd started to feel something… different around Chloe since their after-hours dip in the Blackwell Academy pool. The kiss Chloe had dared out of her the next morning hadn't exactly helped quell it, either. It wasn't that she didn't know what she felt. The problem was more that admitting the feelings existed would mean they were real. But now that her and Chloe weren't stuck in between a life-threatening mystery and an impending natural disaster, it was getting harder and harder to bury her growing crush on her best friend.
Chloe's voice snapped Max back out of her thoughts. "Son of a bitch. Maaaax… can you give me a hand with this?"
Max fastened her belt and helped Chloe tie the red, skull-and-crossbones pattern bandana around her head.
"Thanks." They stood together and looked in Max's mirror as Chloe grabbed their hats from the bed, putting both on their heads simultaneously. "We look hella dope." Chloe held up a hand, and Max accepted the high-five.
A few minutes later, after checking that they'd locked the front door behind them, two trash bags in tricorn hats splashed side by side down the sidewalk. Water ran down the poorly maintained concrete in tiny rivers, pooling now and then wherever it found a dip. Passing headlights glared from the shiny street surface, not yet blinding in the dusky light. Their makeshift ponchos worked decently, but some rain still made it inside, trickling off of Max's hat and down the back and sides of her neck. Chloe had cut openings in the sides for their arms, too. Max felt Chloe's cold, wet, slender hand grip snugly onto hers as they approached an intersection.
"You were right," Chloe relented irritably. "This weather sucks ass. How far is this place?"
"Just a couple more blocks," answered Max.
"Good, because 'me timbers' ain't the only thing shivering."
Max giggled. The wind and rain still freaked her out, but it was easier with Chloe right beside her. She squeezed Chloe's hand.
Many of the houses they passed on the narrow street were decorated for the holiday. Candlelight burned from the toothy, smiling grins of jack-o-lanterns. The more ambitious homes had fake cobwebs strung up in the entryways or cloth ghosts dangling from tree branches, soaked and fluttering in the wind. Damp leaves clung to the grass like a blanket. They crossed 42nd Street, only a block and a half from their destination.
"So this 'Fernando' who's house we're going to," asked Chloe cautiously. "How close are you two?"
Max wasn't sure what to make of the question. "I dunno. Not super close, I guess. We were in a couple classes together when I still went to school here. He was part of the group I hung out with now and then. Why?"
"No reason," Chloe dismissed, but the way her voice lifted told Max there was, in fact, more to it. "Just curious."
Max decided to drop it. Chloe clearly doesn't want to tell me whatever it is.
They turned up a set of concrete stairs toward a narrow, brick house. Pounding music seeped from within, growing louder with each step. Max could see purple light glowing inside through the partially drawn miniblinds. She turned the doorknob and pulled.
No longer contained by the walls, the music hit them like a wall. So did the stench of weed smoke. "Alright, this is my kind of party!" Chloe said excitedly and hurried inside. They hung their ponchos on a hook by the door and did their best to dry their faces before joining the pandemonium.
The crowd was about as stereotypical as could be. Some people danced to the music. A few couples made out in corners or on couches. Two guys Max remembered as being the stoners ripped from a brown-stained bong. Most people, however, milled around and tried to converse over the Halloween-themed club music, clutching onto red solo cups full of beer or cheap liquor.
A stout Batman stumbled down the stairs, stopping when he saw her. "Max! I wasn't sure you were going to make it!" He pushed through a cluster of drunks as Max hurried to meet him halfway. They threw their arms around each other for an embrace that drug on a little longer than expected. "You look awesome!"
Max pulled at the bottom of her blouse nervously, suddenly feeling very plain compared to a lot of the other guests. "It's not too boring?"
He grinned. "Not at all."
Chloe had caught up and waved. "Hi."
Fernando scrambled to shake her hand. "Hey! I'm Fernando. You must be Max's friend from Oregon."
Embarrassed that she hadn't introduced them yet, Max slapped on a big smile and said, "This is my best friend, Chloe! Chloe, this is Fernando."
"Sup." Chloe scanned the packed living room and kitchen. She seemed unenthused as she said, "Nice place. Mind pointing me towards the booze?" Weird. She was super hyped for this party just a moment ago. Why'd she get all standoffish all of the sudden?
He seemed a little caught off guard. "Oh – yeah! Just on the other side of the kitchen. Help yourself."
"Dope. Want anything, Mad Max?"
Max thought for a second. "I'll have whatever you are, thanks."
"One mystery drink, coming up." Chloe turned and headed off on her self-appointed task.
Max watched her go, suddenly feeling very lost, surrounded almost entirely by people she barely knew. Luckily Fernando was there to keep her from completely disappearing into her own head. "So… glad to be back?" he asked with the same warm smile, but there was a new tension around his eyes that she could see even through the Batman mask. Max had seen it plenty since returning to Seattle. Most people she knew had at least a vague knowledge that something big had happened in Arcadia Bay.
"I guess." Max nervously bit her lip. "I missed you guys, at least. Speaking of, where is the old gang?"
"Well," Fernando said after taking a sip of his drink, "Kristen should be on her way soon. Eric got himself grounded, though. So just us for now, I'm afraid." He shrugged. "Chloe seems…" He thought for a good hard second, but didn't seem to know how to finish his statement.
"She takes a bit to warm up to people. It's nothing personal, I promise," Max assured, partially trying to convince herself.
Fernando nodded understandingly. "Gotcha. I imagine it hasn't been exactly easy for either of you since, well… y'know."
Max really didn't want to talk about that tonight. "Yeah." Her smile faltered, but she forced it to come at least partway back. She wasn't upset at Fernando for mentioning it, and didn't want to give that impression. "I'm kinda trying to avoid focusing on it for the time being. I'll tell you and the others more when we're all together next."
"No pressure, Max. Take whatever time you need." Chloe reappeared at the same time as something glass shattered, and Fernando quickly dipped his head in their direction. "Good talking with you Max. Chloe, good to meet you. I've gotta go figure out what that was and how dead I am when my parents get back." He zipped off toward the other side of the house.
Chloe handed Max a cup full of some unknown concoction. "Options were limited – sorry."
"Thanks." Now a bit wary, max took a sip of her drink. It didn't taste completely terrible, at least. "Everything okay?"
Looking at Max like she'd been the one acting weird, Chloe said, "Yeah – why?"
"Nevermind, nothing." Chloe seemed fine again now, and Max let it slide.
They had a few more drinks over the next hour. Chloe even made quick friends with the stoners, which was no surprise. They ate up her tales of the sketchy concerts she'd snuck out to and the skateboard tricks she'd once been able to do. She hadn't heard most of them before, actually. Max was content to silently enjoy watching Chloe socialize. She slowly began to feel a buzz, finding it harder and harder to walk each time her and Chloe relocated to another part of the house.
Fernando caught back up with them, Kristen in tow. She'd dressed up in a fluffy, pink unicorn onesie. "Hey Max! I thought you'd left us for good."
"Nope, I'm back in the emerald city for now."
"Well it's good to have you back. I know Eric's bummed that he had to miss out on seeing you."
They hugged. "I'll make sure to give him a call when he's off house arrest."
"You better," Fernando admonished good naturedly. "We didn't hear from you for almost two months."
Max felt Chloe bristle a little bit at that. She had mostly stopped ribbing Max for her five years of silence, but it apparently was still something they might need to work through.
After another introduction, Chloe was as nonchalant with Kristen as she had been Fernando.
"I love your hair," Kristen tried. "Where'd you get it done?"
"Did it myself, out of a box. Not quite bougie enough to pay someone else to do it," Chloe replied.
"Wow! It looks really good!"
"Thanks." There was almost no inflection to Chloe's voice.
What's up with her tonight?
After a few more tries at conversation with Chloe and trying to dodge talking about the disaster in Arcadia, Max's other friends found excuses to duck away to other parts of the party.
"What's your deal?" Max hissed at her.
Chloe crossed her arms. "Nothing. It's fine."
"Bullshit. Any time Fernando or Kristen come around, you get all prickly. You were all stoked about this party, and now it doesn't even seem like you want to be here."
"I'm telling you," Chloe insisted, an edge creeping into her voice. "It's fine."
Max clenched her jaw. "You're kind of being an ass."
As if someone had flipped a switch, everything went dark. The absence of music was almost deafening until a few of the guests began to groan. Max immediately felt her heart leap into her throat and her fingernails dig into the arm of the couch she was leaning against. She had to force herself through each inhale and exhale, each breath a conscious effort. Her eyes felt jittery and unfocused. Rubbery knees threatened to give out, and the tightness in her gut almost forced her to double over. A wave of icy cold coursed down her spine.
The lights came on as quickly as they'd gone out. A cheer went up. Someone restarted the music, and the party kept going.
I'm gonna throw up.
Chloe looked at Max, her stern expression fading to fearful concern. "Shit. You look like a ghost. Max?"
"Can we sit down for a second?" Max's voice sounded small and fragile even to her own ears.
"… Yeah, sure. What's going on?" Chloe said while shepherding Max over to the couch, an arm around her shoulders.
"I just… I need a moment." The couch protested as they sat. Max kept her breathing even and started counting. Five things I can see. I can see a half-empty beer bottle, a painting of a ship on the wall… She could feel the attack start to melt away. By the time she had run through the whole list, Max just felt tired and stupid for being such a wimp. Chloe isn't having these panic attacks, her inner voice admonished, so why can't you get your shit together, Max? It's just a little rain and wind. She reminded herself that Chloe might not be having panic attacks, but she had woken up Max on many occasion with her tossing and turning. Chloe would also call out for her mom – who'd died in the storm – in the middle of the night.
Chloe rubbed Max's back. "You freaked me out a little, girlfriend. All good now?"
The music was too much now, threatening to push her over the edge again. There were too many people. She wanted out. "No. Can we please go back home?"
Chloe helped her back to her feet. "Sure, c'mon. Let's get out of here."
They didn't say a word to anyone as they slid back into their ponchos and snuck out the door. Chloe immediately grabbed onto Max's hand again and matched her slow pace. Somehow, even in the midst of the very thing that had caused her attack, she felt a little better than packed inside like sardines.
Guilt gnawed at Max's insides. Halfway back to her parent's house, Max let out a deep sigh. "Chloe, I feel terrible. This is your favorite holiday and I ruined it with my stupid bullshit. I'm sorry."
Chloe shook her head. "Don't you dare beat yourself up like that, okay? Shit happens. Besides, I'm the one who acted like a bitch toward your friends."
"You kinda did," Max agreed with a shrug. "I wish you'd tell me why."
They walked in silence as Chloe chewed her lower lip. "I dunno. I guess I was… jealous?"
"Jealous?" Max had suspected it, but hadn't wanted to call her out directly.
"Yeah. I mean, they helped you forget about me once already." The words weren't accusatory. In fact, it sounded more like Chloe thought she deserved to be forgotten.
Max stopped, pulling Chloe back and directly into her arms. "I never forgot you, Chloe. You know that. And I'm never leaving you again."
Chloe hesitantly wrapped her arms around Max. "You promise? Don't promise me that if you don't mean it."
"I promise. And I mean it." Then she did something that even she didn't expect. Max cupped Chloe's cheek with one hand and pulled her in for a kiss. Their lips touched for what felt both like an instant and an eternity. Chloe's were warm and supple. Max didn't want to let go. But when it finally sunk in what she'd done, Max backpedaled a couple steps, holding her hands over her mouth. Neither of them said anything, which made the awkward moment even worse. Chloe's eyes were wide. Her jaw hung open in surprise. Max turned away to hide her face. Shit. "Sorry."
Chloe finally managed to form words. "Wow. I, uh… didn't realize you were that drunk."
"I didn't either," Max squeaked. Trying for a joke as she looked back at Chloe, she added, "Strike two for the night, huh?"
"Are you… was it just the alcohol? Or…?" Chloe stood unmoving, crossing her arms again and looking anywhere but at Max – mostly toward her own shoes.
I can't keep this to myself anymore. "No. It's not just the alcohol."
Chloe looked up, seemingly unable to decide what emotion to express. "Oh."
They stared at each other as the rain poured down around them.
"Say something Chloe, please!" Max begged.
But she didn't. Instead, Chloe closed the distance between them and put her hands on Max's waist. A wry smirk twisted up one corner of her mouth. "You need practice. Here, let me help."
Max was confused. "Wait, did you seriously just try to use a pickup line on—"
Chloe angled her head down and cut Max off with a kiss. This one felt less awkward, and Max let herself melt into it as Chloe tilted her back. Her hat fell off into a puddle, but she didn't care. Max's arms draped themselves over Chloe's shoulders, fingers intertwining behind her neck. It was over too soon, but this time neither of them tried to step away.
"See? That was already better," Chloe teased.
Max was still reeling. "Are you drunk?"
"Nope. Stone-cold sober." Chloe brushed a wet strand of hair from Max's face, the other hand still supporting her back. "I've wanted to do that since you saved me from the train, but didn't know if you felt the same way."
It was Max's turn to say, "Oh."
"Okay," Chloe said nervously, "now you have to say something."
Max blinked a couple times to get the rain out of her eyelashes. "Chloe, I really like you. Like really, really like you."
One of Chloe's eyebrows arched up skeptically. "But?"
With a shake of her head, Max sincerely said, "No buts."
Chloe looked relieved. "Let's get back to the house." She scooped up Max's pirate hat and handed it back to her. "I've got a movie for us to watch, and you've got a couch perfect for cuddles."
Max took her hand again as they strolled through cones of streetlight-illuminated rain. "Nothing to gory or scary, please."
Chloe grinned. "No guarantees."
When Max's parents got home a while later, that's exactly where they found their daughter and her maybe-more-than-friend – asleep in each other's arms on the couch, wrapped in a burrito of thick blankets, faces illuminated by the light of the TV as the end credits for Scooby Doo and the Witch's Curse scrolled across the screen. Vanessa Caulfield smiled a little, remembering all the times she'd found them sleeping like that as kids. Even now, they're truly inseparable. It was also the first time she knew of that they'd slept so peacefully since arriving at their front door, the day after the storm.
Ryan quietly picked up the remote from beside them on the couch and turned off the TV. "Should we wake them up?" he whispered.
Vanessa shook her head. "Leave them be, honey." They deserved their rest.
