Wild fingers ran through streaks of unwashed blue hair as Chloe paced back and forth in front of the apartment window, every few seconds glancing out to the footpath below. She was in a state of anxiety and needed to calm herself down, but she couldn't help it. Worry seemed to be what occupied most of her time these days because of Max, or rather worrying about the girl was what occupied her time.
She paused in her tracks and sighed.
"C'mon Chloe," She uttered to herself. "Max is fine! Just chill the fuck out and she'll be home soon enough."
Flopping back onto the couch she looked up to the wall beside her where three Polaroid pictures were taped next to one another. A week ago, Max had experienced something that Chloe couldn't explain, but for whatever cosmic reason it had brought a moment of awakening to them both.
If that's what you could call it.
Max had reassured her that she was going to make an effort to start putting back the pieces of their lives together again. A small promise, considering the hell-storm they had been experiencing for the past few months, to at least try and find new and good moments to hold on to.
Chloe had noticed a change in Max over the past week. They were broken girls. Broken. That's what Chloe knew, and she knew it because they'd been dragging themselves across states to escape the horror of their past, haunted by it all, accompanied by anxiety and nightmares… They'd lost everything, and the cost of being together had been the total destruction of their lives.
In Chloe's mind it appeared to have cost Max part of her soul. She had watched the girl become a shell of her once dorky, bubbly, sweet self; replaced by a scared, tired and lost version of Max Caulfield. Yet, for whatever reason, Chloe had started to see a glimmer of hope in the small girl's eyes again. A few more smiles during the day, an effort to eat more when Chloe encouraged. It was beginning to give herself a little hope, too.
They had barely spent any time apart, save when Chloe would pull herself together to get food and supplies and whatever the hell they needed to get by. Max usually stayed home. She had seemed afraid of people lately, overcome with social anxiety. Or rather Chloe had noticed that maybe Max was afraid of hurting people by the way the brunette would talk about not wanting to 'do any more damage'. Chloe hated that idea. Max never intentionally hurt people; she didn't believe it and she didn't want Max to believe it either. Yet whenever Chloe had asked her if she'd like to come to the shops with her, Max would stay home and curl up on the couch instead. Which was why Chloe was anxious after reading the note left on the counter that said the smaller girl had popped out for a walk to get food.
"Gah!" Chloe huffed, and threw another glance out the window to see if she could spot the small girl. Still no Max on the horizon.
It's nearly noon, where is this girl?
Chloe had slept in. She must have been seriously exhausted last night because the last thing she remembered was snuggling up to Max, listening to the small girl's chest rising and lowering until she drifted off. Next thing she's aware of is that it's well into the morning, the clock on the wall says it's eleven, and Max isn't around. She'd nearly freaked again, scared to find the girl having visions or nightmares or something, but instead had found a friendly little note from her best friend promising she'd be home soon. But when was soon? Chloe hadn't even noticed the girl getting out of bed.
She needed a distraction. It was supposed to be a good thing that Max had the guts to leave the apartment on her own. Progress, right? So why was she so freaked? Max wouldn't lie to her.
Her body instantly craved for a cigarette. Of course she naturally wanted one to calm herself like she had done for years. Except for the fact that once the storm had passed, Chloe hadn't wanted to pick up a smoke again. It felt so wrong. Her mother had hated her smoking habit (even though she had hated her drug use more), David had always given her crap about it and…her father? She knew her biological father would have been disappointed in her.
Now they're all dead.
Gone. Yet, Chloe was alive. Tornado or no tornado, Max had gone through hell and back tearing apart time and space just to save her life, and as a result Chloe was alive on Christmas Eve while her entire family were dead. Fuck cigarettes. Chloe had had enough of throwing her life away with reckless habits. She didn't want to carry on with what precious time she still had left slowly poisoning herself with nicotine anyway. She wanted to do right by those she'd lost, and by Max whom she still had.
"Max, Max, Max…"
She aimlessly breathed through clenched teeth while staring at the ceiling trying to think of anything else but her dead parental figures. She thought about them enough every night holding onto Max. Max, her best friend. Or rather, 'Max, more than best friend'. The best friend that wasn't, then was, then became everything in Chloe's life. Max, her life-saver. Max, a time-goddess, or something. Supernatural. Divine-being? No, Chloe knew that Max was just as human as she was. If Max was a god, she wouldn't be so crushed by the weight of the world. Chloe knew her. She was every bit of Max as that thirteen-year-old girl in her memories was. Kind, caring, loyal, and oh-so flawed. She was just a girl who had superpowers, powers she never even asked for, and powers that had turned her life upside down and to ruin. Chloe could barely wrap her head around it sometimes. Nevertheless, here she was, and here they were.
The truth of the matter was that despite everything they had gone through, Max was and truly is her best friend. Even if there was something more between them. What they had gone through? They were bonded for life, and Chloe was going to stick by Max for the rest of hers. Max had saved her, in more ways than one. She'd given Chloe a second chance. But also, she brought out the best side in Chloe. She had to admit it. Even her mother had known Max being in her life was good for her.
Max had come back into her life exactly the right moment she had needed her and had undone the past five years of radio-silence. Whatever the reason, fate had twisted that reality, and Max Caulfield had prevented the murder of Chloe Price. In Chloe's mind, it was like the universe had redeemed the past in an instant. And Chloe could not help but be grateful to the eighteen year old girl who'd shown up out of the blue and stuck by her side every moment since.
"She was my angel," Chloe had once told Max about Rachel Amber, her former best friend. Rachel, who had been there and given her someone to believe in when she'd also needed someone most. Rachel, who'd shown Chloe that there was a little more to live for, who had taught the girl confidence and had Chloe's back. Rachel, had disappeared without a trace for several months, leaving behind a hollow, lonely, scared Chloe. Rachel, who Max had helped Chloe dig up in a shallow-grave of the junkyard back in the death-pit of Arcadia Bay.
It seemed hard to believe that fate didn't have a say in her life considering the day Chloe wanted to escape from Arcadia Bay via desperate and drastic measures was the day Max had appeared in front of her truck at Blackwell Academy. After Max had saved her own life, no less. Was it supposed to mean something that out of anyone in the entire universe, the one other person in that bathroom that day just happened to be Chloe's childhood best friend.
The whole time-traveling thing was still a mind-fuck on its own!
In that one week of October, Max had done the impossible countless times. Not only saving Chloe but actually bringing her back from the dead, discovering the most insane secrets about her family and solving the disappearance of one of the most important people in Chloe's life, stood up to her step-father over his abuse towards her, brought down the psycho-killer who had kidnapped and tortured her, but still had gone above and beyond to make sure the both of them survived on the cliff together.
Max Caulfield is without a doubt the most incredible person Chloe has ever known. The bravest, the strongest, the kindest and most loving girl on the face of the planet - and she couldn't quite believe Max was real. She'd stood up for Chloe, been there for her in so many ways, but also in the simplest just by being a true friend...by being herself. She'd joined Chloe on her hunt for her former best friend and love without a question, just because it was important to her. She'd trusted her and agreed to her harebrained and dangerous schemes, even though they had put her life in danger, but had fought for Chloe regardless.
At Chloe's loneliest and lowest point of her existence Max had appeared to show her the most love, understanding and teaching more than anyone else ever had. And she had done so by changing the very fabric of time. Max had suffered to give everything she had for Chloe... and gave her hope in the truest sense. For the first time in five years she learned what true friendship really meant.
It's hard to imagine all of this insane crap wouldn't be for nothing...right? My life is so insane I wonder if its just me.
Max was the one person who would hold Chloe tight with such love and comfort while she broke down next to the decomposing body of the girl she once loved. The one person who stopped Chloe from going into a party on a night that would lead to her death and the torture of her best friend at the hands of a maniac, who traveled through a storm and through time to get back to her. Chloe wouldn't have needed to be convinced twice that it was worth it to carry her unconscious best friend up a hill, and she'd do it all over again if she had to.
By the ruins of a lighthouse Chloe had given Max a near-impossible decision to make in that place. If there was a possibility that allowing Chloe to die that Monday in the school bathroom would somehow prevent the storm from ever happening, she gave Max that option by handing over the photograph Chloe had kept on her all week. That polaroid of a butterfly Max had taken before either Nathan or Chloe had stepped into the bathroom. The polaroid that could send Max back in time to change the course of events that week.
All it would have taken was for Chloe to die, in a reality where her and Max would have never reunited.
The moment had run through Chloe's mind on repeat ever since. "I can't make that choice!" Max had cried on that cliff top. But that afternoon Max Caulfield did make a choice. She chose to tear the photograph in half. Max chose to set aside the opportunity to unravel that entire week in a chance a freak tornado may never appear. Maxine Caulfield chose Chloe Price.
Who else in the universe would choose... me?
She had promised right then and there that she would always be there for her best friend. "Forever." Max had promised back. Chloe knew that whatever destiny she held from that moment forth, it would be by this girl. This fucking girl who had moved heaven and earth for her. This girl whom Chloe had loved deeply as a child, whom Chloe had missed and longed for during most of her years as a teenager, and who was now by her side trying to pick up the pieces of their shattered reality and put them back together again.
Chloe's feelings for Max ran so deep that she couldn't imagine a life without the girl any more.
This must be what true love means... right?
When Chloe thought of Max her heart swelled with warmth. Max made her smile in moments when nothing else did. Late nights when Chloe couldn't sleep and her mind was overrun with fear or sorrow were when the smaller girl's warmth and closeness made Chloe feel safe again. If she had to she'd spend every night holding Max close and whispering soothing assurances until the nightmares subsided. Her heart ached to see Max suffer and break, when she was the most loving, kind and understanding girl she'd ever known. Her best friend had grown up into a young woman, from pirate to superhero, Chloe's partner in crime and time. Where would she be without her?
Probably buried in a cemetery next to her father, William Price.
"Fuck." Chloe gasped, resting her head in her hands and sniffing, rubbing palms into her eyes. She'd been so far down the rabbit-hole of her thoughts that she had not even not noticed she was crying.
Way deep, Price.
Not that it could be helped. Not like her life wasn't dipped in heavy shit these days. Sitting upright again she sighed and stared out the window, emotions swirling wildly in her chest like a pool beneath a waterfall.
She loved Maxine Caulfield. It was undeniable. Max loved her back, indisputably so. However, her insecurities always made her wonder; Did Max love her, the way Chloe loved Max?
Selfish thing to wonder, Chloe. Max has bigger shit on her mind than her feelings for you. And she has already proven that she cares way more than she probably should.
Chloe knew she was in love with the smaller brunette. The chaos of the world had shown her that truth. She had fallen in love with Max, and she was scared to do anything about it.
Max has so much to deal with. It doesn't matter whether she's in love with me or not, I've got to be there for her through this shit first.
Romance felt like a foreign concept at this point of time, and she chastised herself for letting her thoughts wander. A city had been destroyed, Max was broken, and Chloe was sitting here now thinking about her feelings for the girl.
Some best friend you are.
Her need for a distraction had grown to the point where Chloe couldn't stand it anymore. Huffing, she got up and made her way to the kitchen, where she hoped to find something to eat.
Damn Max, you weren't kidding, there's nothing here. Chloe shut the door to the cabinet where three cans of beans and a bag of instant coffee were stored. The fridge proved just as unhelpful with only a small amount of milk, some butter and a few condiments left. Closing it, she stretched and looked back to the clock again. It was just past noon.
"Screw it, I can't wait! I've gotta go find that girl." Chloe decided, about to make her way into the bedroom to gather her things, when all of a sudden her attention was drawn to a rustling outside the front door. Curious, she trudged over to it, grabbed the door handle and threw the door open to reveal Max with bags in tow fumbling for the key.
The smaller girl's face broke out into a massive smile before she tackled the tall punk into a hug.
"Chloe!" She exclaimed with so much joy it caught her off-guard, losing her balance for a second.
"Woah! Woah, Max!" Chloe said, slightly bewildered. There was no way in hell she would not return that hug, though.
"Sorry!" Max was sheepish, and took a step back, and she couldn't help but melt in the face of the brunette's smile. She hardly saw that smile, and Chloe could barely contain her own. God, she wanted to reach out and capture that smile permanently.
"Ha- what? What's going on? You're in a good mood." She stated, wondering why Max seemed to be so happy. Had she been worrying about her for nothing? Of course, Max was fine to be on her own for a bit, she should have had a little more faith.
"Yeah…" Max was swaying, a bit playfully. Chloe noted how much brighter she appeared with a hint of joy to that tired complexion. When Max pulled her in again for a more gentle embrace, Chloe's chest swelled and she felt so precious in her arms. So right. She hummed a little.
"Are you hungry? I wanna tell you about my morning?" Max spoke into Chloe's shoulder.
"Yeah," Chloe was suddenly aware of her own hunger, "yeah! Starving. Let's make something? What did you get us, SuperMax?"
Helping Max bring in the bags, Chloe eyed her best friend carefully as they unpacked together. Max didn't seem to be hiding anything in the moment, and Chloe knew she could normally read her like a book.
So... this really is a good thing?
The pair decided on cooking up a bit of a brunch-deal; eggs, toast and bacon. A cup of their (gross)instant coffee on the side it was a meal fit enough for them both. Opting to sit on the floor with their backs to the couch, they huddled around their little coffee table while Max filled Chloe in on her little morning adventures. It felt good to be doing something that felt so normal, cosied up under a blanket with the radiator going.
She listened attentively while Max rambled on about meeting a neighbor from down below; some old lady who apparently knew everyone and everything in town. Then about the grocery store clerk, and some old guy she'd talked to about photography in the second-hand shop where Chloe had bought necessities from. For Max's sake, and to ease Chloe's worries, it was good to hear Max speak about something positive. Chloe had been beginning to worry that nothing good was going to drift through the expanse of the smaller girl's mind again. Got to take the good moments as they come, she guessed.
Huh. Who knew nice things could still happen in this world after the dump the universe had unloaded on us? Damn. It's like you can see the weights that had lifted off her shoulder today. I wonder how long this is going to last?
Good stuff never seems to last for us.
I'm just so fucking glad Max is talking to me about things again.
I'm really proud you, kiddo.
An hour or more later... Chloe's opinion about good things never lasting for the two of them proved itself true. Their apartment didn't have a television, and they didn't own computers any more, and both of their stereo systems lay under ruin somewhere on the Oregon coast. So to entertain themselves the two girls played games with a raggedy, cheap pack of cards Chloe had dug up from her truck. A memento from drinking games and adventures long in the punk girl's past.
"Chloe?" Max asked, the change of tone to her voice causing Chloe to tense a little. She had her attention immediately.
"Hmm?" Chloe tried not to appear too concerned as she prepared for what Max might bring up now. She kept her eyes low on her cards.
"It's…it's Christmas Eve." Stated Max in a small voice.
She's nervous.
Chloe took a moment to carefully craft her own tone in response, so as not to upset Max in any way.
"Yes? It's Christmas tomorrow." Chloe softly replied.
Ah, here it comes. Is she thinking about what I think she is?
Max shifted uncomfortably on the spot, shuffling with her legs crossed on the floor. Chloe looked up at the girl with a poker face, trying to figure out what was going on in that head of hers. Whatever Max was heading with this it was making the girl shake, and she knew that Max was trying to be brave about it.
"Uh, I… Today reminded me that…I haven't talked to my parents yet. And... I need to. I can't let Christmas pass and just…" She paused for a moment to shakily inhale, "I need to talk to them, and I need your help Chloe."
"Oh."
Max's parents had been such a difficult and sensitive topic since the storm that Chloe had to admit she'd been too 'chickenshit' to bring it up with Max the past few weeks. Not to say it wasn't on Chloe's mind, because she thought about it all the time, just that when she had pushed the topic before with the Max she would just... shut down and escape to whatever internal world lay behind those pained blue eyes.
The Caulfield's had freaked when the storm decimated Arcadia Bay. Understandably. It was national and international news. Helicopters had flown in to film live reports as a state of emergency had been declared once news had spread that a tornado had appeared out of nowhere. Chloe could remember military vehicles passing them on the drive out while still in a haze of disbelief and running on pure adrenaline. Max's phone had blown up non-stop with calls and texts from her parents in Seattle, while Chloe's phone had been received only a few texts from out-of-state relatives and extended family.
Neither girl had the energy or wherewithal then to deal with any of that right away, and Chloe noticed that Max would hold the phone in her hands like something poisonous. At one point she could have sworn that the smaller girl muttered something about 'texts from the dead in a nightmare', but Max wasn't in a right state of mind at the time so Chloe didn't push her. They needed to just to get out of the bay.
It didn't take long for their phones to run flat and a few days passed before they eventually bought cheap chargers at a gas station. Chloe had called her relatives to let them know she was okay, but lied and told them she was staying up north with friends as rescue and recovery underwent in Arcadia. When Max turned her screen on, she'd missed dozens of frantic calls from her parents. Understandable given all they knew was that the city their daughter was meant to be in was razed to the ground, a death toll growing by the minute plastered all over international media. Chloe knew they would have been frightened and worried beyond belief, but she also knew that Max was fully aware of this. Max could barely read through a few messages before shaking and dropping her phone, struggling to cope. So Chloe had offered to text her parents for her before Max went distant and disappeared into her state of near-catatonia.
Their relief to hear their daughter was alive was immediate, almost as soon as Chloe had shot off a text from Max's phone the screen had lit up with incoming calls. Max didn't want to take them though, and Chloe could barely shake her to get a response out of the girl. The notifications grew, never ending, until finally Max couldn't take it any longer. When they had stopped for the night and Chloe had managed to get Max into a motel room, Max picked up her vibrating phone and threw it out the window before falling to her knees and hugging herself.
It had been one of the most heart-breaking moments of her life, for Chloe to see Max so scared and broken, so she carried the small girl in her arms to the bed and held her throughout the night.
In the morning Chloe had sneaked out to find Max's phone in garden (luckily unscathed from the bushes and still working), then brought it back to their room. Neither of them spoke that morning, but later that day Max rose from her trance in bed and grabbed the phone off the table. Chloe watched the girl warily reply to texts, her face emotionless and pale. For the next month or so Max barely replied to any messages, and never took any phone calls. She told Chloe that she couldn't handle dealing with anyone else in the world right then, that she just wanted her parents to leave her alone. She told them that she was an adult and just needed to get away, that she was safe, and if she needed them she would call them.
Chloe knew that as much as Max loved her parents the small girl was battling demons and carrying burdens as heavy as the world. The Caulfield's had turned to police for help at one point, but like Max had pointed out she was an adult and she hadn't just runaway. There was a battle here for Max that she was going to have to face sometime, so Chloe knew that if she wanted to call her parents now it wasn't going to be a small deal for anyone involved. It meant healing and coming to terms with some pretty heavy wounds, concepts Chloe could barely even begin to understand. In such a short amount of time Max Caulfield had learned the meaning of hell better than anyone she ever knew, including herself.
Those glistening blue eyes look into Chloe's expectantly, waiting for an answer. Chloe could see the fear in Max and knew that she was mustering all her strength to ask, and could see her chest rising and falling rapidly. Max was a deer in headlights. Without hesitation, Chloe positioned herself next to the smaller girl and pulled her close in a warm embrace, one had lacing her fingers with Max's. Max nestled her face into Chloe's collarbone and let out a shaky sob.
"Yes, yes of course I will help you, SuperMax. I'm going to be there for you every step of the way." Chloe reassured the crying girl.
"I'm the worst daughter in the world." Max whispered painfully.
"You're the only time-traveling daughter in the world. They love you Max, they've been waiting for you."
"They must hate me for ignoring them."
"Never."
Max went quiet for a few moments. Chloe could feel her hot breath through her hoodie.
"Max, I-…I'm so fucking proud of you. I am. It'll be tough, I know. But we'll face this next step together. And it's going to be okay. I believe in you Max. I believe in you."
How could anyone know how to deal with this crap? We can only do the best that we can.
God, she's so fucking beautiful, what did Max ever do to deserve this? Why does the universe hate her so much?
She rocked the smaller girl with her gently for a few more moments.
"Thanks Chloe." She whispered, then straightened herself up so they could see each other's faces.
Oh man. She looks so fucking defeated already.
Chloe had to fight off a whimper of her own. Seeing Max like this was choking her up.
"I wanna tell them I'm sorry. For fucking up, for screwing up, for ignoring them, for being so scared. That's what today reminded me of. And..." She drew a few more breaths, then looked to Chloe with an expression the taller girl couldn't quite read. Max lowered her eyes and held herself with an arm around her waist, a coping mechanism Chloe had seen before.
"And?" Chloe gently prompted.
"…And I've got to do it for Joyce. I know your Mom would want me to."
Chloe was silent for a few seconds as she understood where Max was coming from. She pulled the girl in even closer protectively.
Chloe attempted to choke back tears as she spoke.
"Okay Max. I've got your back. Don't worry, we'll get through this. Together."