Oct 11, 2013 - [12:51 am]
Prescott Barn
Southeast of Arcadia Bay, Oregon

It'd happened instantly.

There hadn't been any kind of gap or transition. One second I'd been standing in the ruins of Arcadia Bay during what were supposed to have been the last moments of my life. The next second I'd been back indoors, someone's arm wrapped around my neck, and Max's face had been barely a foot away. I hadn't even had time to process that before she'd thrown her hand out, hitting something next to my head. That must've been the needle that broke off, because it'd sent a shock of stinging pain into my neck.

I'd felt the arm around my neck jerk backward, it's owner probably as startled as me, as Max had taken another swing. She'd obviously been aiming at the asshole who'd been holding me, and I'd thought she'd hit them, but then another fist had connected with her face and sent her sprawling to the floor.

All of this had taken about three seconds, and as my mind had started to catch up with current events I'd become aware of several terrifying things; I'd been back in the Dark Room, I'd been bound and gagged, and I was being held by Mark Jefferson.

I hadn't needed to see his face. I'd known it was him. I hadn't realized how much his disgusting fucking cologne had imprinted on my memories until I'd suddenly found myself choking on it.

He'd begun moving backward before I'd even tried to get away, practically dragging me along by the neck. Max had still been on the ground when he'd raised his free arm, levelling a gun on her. And although I still hadn't known what was happening – whether I'd been dreaming, or hallucinating, or if I'd just ended up in Hell – I'd still known that there was no fucking way I'd let him shoot her.

Bracing myself, I'd swung my head backward as hard as I could manage, crashing it into his and sending a shock of blinding pain through my entire skull. I'd heard the wet crunch a split second before his gun had gone off, sending a bullet into the wall across from us.

"Fucking bitch!" he'd shouted, like the pathetic piece of shit he was, shoving me more or less in Max's direction. I'd tried to keep my footing, even though I'd expected a bullet in the back the entire time, but I'd still had spots dancing across my vision and my legs had felt like they'd fallen asleep. I might have been alright if my toe hadn't gotten caught on a lighting wire, but that'd been enough to put me off-balance and send me falling headlong into the side of the desk.

I'd been bracing up for another hit on the head when Max had thrown herself against me, pushing me away from the desk and sending us both tumbling to the floor behind it. Somehow, I'd ended up falling on top of her and the impact had sent all the air out of her lungs in a wheezing rush. Gasping, she'd pushed off of her and I'd rolled away, the back of my head connecting sharply with the floor. I'd looked up to see that Jefferson had still been there with that fucking gun of his, but he hadn't been aiming it at us anymore. He'd pulled the trigger, and another thunderous shot had filled the space...

...and then he'd been gone.

Just like that, he'd vanished, like some editor had come along and cut him out of the world between frames.

And if that hadn't been enough to utterly rock my worldview, a split-second later the last person in the world I would've expected to see had appeared, swinging a piece of wood through the space where Jefferson had just been standing; Chloe Price, looking exactly like I remembered.

That had been the point when I'd realized that I probably had way bigger concerns than a bump on the head.

"Holy shit," Max breathes, as I finish telling my version of events. "Victoria, that's..."

"Fucking nuts," Chloe finishes.

I nod, still trying to come to terms with the fact that I'm talking to Max, that she's standing right next to Chloe, that I'm alive, that I'm somehow back in the year 2013, and that the person I hate more than I ever thought I'd be able to hate anything is... "Hey, Max?"

"Yeah?"

"Is he really...? I mean, he's not going to..."

"No. He's gone."

"Where?"

She hesitates. "...exactly where he deserves to be."

"Good fucking riddance," I mutter. The weather hasn't gotten bad yet; just a light rain that doesn't even come close to hinting at what's to come. And although the temperature has dropped a little, it's the look in Max's eyes that has me feeling a little chilled. Talking about Mark Jefferson has always brought out something dark in her. It's not scary, exactly, but until I saw it for the first time, I never would've imagined calling Max Caulfield ruthless. It's not something I like to see in her, and the only time her eyes ever looked colder was...oh.

I barely suppress a shudder when the memory of Chloe's funeral jumps unbidden to the front of my mind. The small church had seemed pretty full when I'd arrived, which had been fine by me. It meant I could grab a seat at the back and do my best not to be noticed. I hadn't been totally surprised that Max's mother had reached out to me; Max, Chloe, and I were the only Arcadia Bay survivors our age. But even if most people hadn't recognized me (except for Steph Gingrich, who gave me kind of a weird look when she spotted me), I'd still felt kind of unwelcome.

That was another impression that had stuck with me, and even after we started hanging out it took a long time for me to stop feeling like an outsider in Max's life. Now that I'm standing here with her and Chloe, I'm not really sure where I fit in that dynamic.

"Hey, you good?" Chloe asks, looking surprisingly concerned.

"Yeah, sorry," I say, honestly meaning to follow it with something like, 'it's just really strange to see you'. You know; the kind of thing a normal person would say. Instead, my brain spits out, "I was just thinking about your funeral."

Chloe blinks. "...my what now?"

"Victoria!" Max gasps. "What the hell?!"

"Damn it." I cringe, pressing a hand to my forehead. "I didn't mean to say that. It just came out."

"You were at my funeral?" Chloe murmurs.

"We both were," I say, because I'm a lunatic. "I mean, obviously." That isn't better. Then, for some fucking reason, I add, "It was a really nice service, though."

"Victoria!" Max looks ready to smack me, and her girlfriend (maybe?) looks like she's having a slight existential crisis. I really wish I didn't know exactly what that feels like.

"...it was?" Chloe asks, eventually.

"I mean...I guess? It was a funeral. But it seemed like there were a lot of people there. And everyone seemed...y'know...sad?" Oh my fucking god, kill me now. "I think I should stop saying things for a while."

"I don't...I can't even..." Max squeezes her eyes shut, rubbing her forehead. "Can we talk about something else? Literally anything else?"

"Oh god, please!" I agree, nodding vehemently.

Chloe actually looks weirdly disappointed, but she doesn't argue. "So, Victoria." She scratches the back of her neck. "Here you are, huh? In the past."

Well, that's about as neutral an observation as it gets. "Here I am."

She shakes her head. "Time travel is pretty messed up, isn't it?"

"No kidding." Understatement of the fucking century. "And here I thought I was done with it."

"Yeah, I guess you just expected to be...wiped out...of..." Chloe trails off, cringing. "Fuck."

"It's fine." I sigh. "Do-over?"

"Why not?" she groans. "Let's see which one of us steps in it this time."

"I think it's Max's turn."

We both turn to Max, who stares back at us like a cornered animal. "...what?"

"You're up, Max."

"Yeah." Chloe nods. "Make this not weird."

"I...er..." She stops, thinks for a second, then goes with, "...Victoria likes Blade Runner?"

Okay. Interesting segue, but I can work with this. "That's true. I do like Blade Runner."

Chloe actually looks surprised. "Really?"

"Well, yeah." I shrug. "I mean, it's a classic."

"You're talking about the Director's Cut, right?"

"What? Of course I'm talking about the Director's Cut!" I can't believe she'd ask me that. Why doesn't she just spit on me while she's at it? "What the fuck kind of basic bitch do you take me for?"

"Oh, come on. Like you've never met any of those 'it's not so great I didn't like the narration' assholes who haven't."

"Like I'd waste my time listening to anyone who doesn't think that entire film was a masterpiece. I mean, it basically redefined science fiction cinema."

"Thank you! I keep telling Max that, but she's all hung up on The Spirits Within."

"Hey!"

"Ugh!" I groan, ignoring Max's indignant expression. "Don't even get me started on that fucking movie."

"Seen it a few times, I guess?"

"Six times before I broke down and hid the DVD. Six! Thank god she's too scared to pirate her own movies."

"She is?" Chloe laughs.

"I'm not scared!" Max insists.

"Oh, please. It was like you thought the FBI was gonna kick the front door in or something." I shake my head. "Remember the time you got all jumpy just because I downloaded the new Avengers movie?"

"I wasn't that bad!"

"You screamed when the pizza guy rang the doorbell."

"I wasn't expecting it!"

"Sure." Smirking, I turn back to Chloe. "You know, I actually met Ridley Scott once."

"What?" Her eyes go wide. "When? How?"

"My family donates a lot to the USC School of Cinematic Arts, so my father knows a lot of people in the industry, and we get invited to things. Things like a party celebrating the thirtieth anniversary of the release of Blade Runner. Most of the original cast was there."

"Okay, that's fucking awesome! What were they like?"

I pause, trying to remember. For me, it was almost three and a half years ago. "Harrison Ford actually made the salty old man thing charming. And Rutger Hauer is huge. I swear it felt like he had a solid foot of height on me."

"What about Daryl Hannah?"

"Really funny, really smart, and taller than either of us."

"Awesome," Chloe breathes, adding, "You know, Daryl Hannah was actually the first chick I was into."

"No kidding?" I have to laugh at that; say what you will about her, Chloe's never been particularly subtle about her sexuality. Though looking back now, I definitely remember Daryl Hannah' character in Kill Bill giving me some confusing feelings.

"Kinda took me off guard, too." She nods. "I was just taking a little me-time with imaginary Decker, then Pris just popped into my head and stole the show. I think it was the bangs..." She trails off, peering thoughtfully into the distance.

"Hey! Quit fantasizing about Daryl Hannah!" Max laughs after a few seconds, poking Chloe's shoulder. Then she turns to me. "And you, stop enabling her!"

I raise an eyebrow.

Max's eyes narrow. "Don't you dar-"

"Hey, Chloe?" I interrupt, keeping my eyes on Max. "You know what'd be fun right now?"

She glances back and forth between Max and me. "No?"

"A detailed discussion about every single nude scene Daryl Hannah has in Splash."

"...you know what, Victoria?" I can actually hear the shit-eating grin in Chloe's voice. "I think you're right."

"Oh my god," Max groans, squeezing her eyes shut. "I should've known you two would be as bad as each other."

"Yeah, you really should have," I agree.

"Whatever. I'm going to go down and find some flashlights. You two stay here and keep being smartasses."

Max heads down the stairs, and as soon as she's out of sight, Chloe sits down on a nearby crate with a heavy sigh. She doesn't say anything for a few seconds, then looks up at me. "So...Max loves me."

Not exactly what I expected. "...yeah? I mean, of course she does."

She scowls a little. "I get how that's not news for you, but I'm still kind of getting used to the idea."

"Oh." I hesitate. "Is that...bad?"

"What? No!"

"Then what?" I ask, trying to step lightly. 'Chloe Price's therapist' isn't really a role I feel equipped for.

She falters a bit, jamming her hands in her pockets and toeing the dirt-covered floor with one boot. "I'm just...well... I dunno..."

Oh, I think I see what this is. "I guess you're trying to figure out how you feel about her?" I chuckle at her surprised look. "It's kinda written all over your face."

"Course it is." She snorts. "Thing is, I know I loved Rachel, and this doesn't feel the same as that."

Once upon a time, I'd have flat-out said she wasn't in love with Rachel. She cared about her, for sure, and she was definitely infatuated. But Chloe mostly gave, and Rachel mostly took, and maybe I'm naïve but I don't think something like that could be called love.

It sounds like a stupid cliché but seeing Chloe with Rachel was like watching a moth dancing around a flame. No matter what was going on, she always seemed to act like Rachel was the brightest and most important thing in her life. But while she sure as hell wasn't the only one caught in Rachel Amber's orbit, she was the one Rachel allowed to fly the closest. For a while, at least.

"It wouldn't, would it?" I suggest instead. "Max and Rachel are completely different people. Makes sense that loving them would feel different, too."

"I guess." Chloe shrugs, then gives me a thoughtful look. "You ever been in love, Vic?"

I hesitate for a second, debating whether or not to answer. "Yeah, I've been in love."

"Huh." She looks down at the floor, ruminating on that from a minute. "Okay, this is probably going to sound dumb, but what does it feel like?"

"Being in love?"

"Yeah. To you, I mean." She cringes a little. "Is that a weird thing to ask?"

"I've heard weirder," I laugh. "I sure as hell remember falling in love. It was like I'd been hit by a freight train. All this shit I thought I knew didn't make sense, and suddenly the spot they'd always filled in my life didn't fit them anymore."

Chloe snorts. "Yeah, that sounds familiar."

"Being in love, though? That's a little harder to put into words." I frown, thinking about it, then offer the first thing that comes to mind. "It's kinda like sitting in the sunshine. Everything feels warmer and brighter and happier. It makes me feel safe and hopeful. And even if I was able to live without her, that didn't make the dark any less lonely. Does that make sense?"

"I..." she nods, staring at the floor pensively. "Yeah, it kinda does."

I kind of feel bad for Chloe. She's so obviously head-over-heels in love with Max, and the sooner she stops deluding herself about that, the happier she'll be. But at the same time, I can see why it wouldn't be easy for her. I'd watched the whole thing happen from the outside, but even I could tell that getting dumped by Rachel Amber really messed her up.

A lot of people thought Rachel and I were frenemies or some shit, but the truth was a lot simpler; I absolutely fucking loathed her. Rachel was selfish, manipulative, hypocritical, and infuriatingly entitled on a level that made me look like Kate Marsh by comparison. She thought she was a lot smarter than she really was and she had no issues about using other people to get her way. Yet all the while, everyone acted like she was this perfect shining angel.

She also fucking poisoned me and I'm pretty sure she started that forest fire back in 2010.

But while Chloe definitely hadn't been my favorite person, even I thought she deserved better than to be Rachel's pet girlfriend. I swear to god, if that self-absorbed bitch were here right now I'd slap the shit out of her.

"Wait a second," Chloe murmurs, her brow furrowing. "You said her just then."

"What?"

"When you were talking about being in love. You said you were able to live without her."

I silently go back over my words. "Huh. I guess I did."

Chloe stares at me for a long moment. "So, does that mean you're..."

"Yes, Chloe. I'm gay," I say, casually, as if admitting that wouldn't have sent me into a panic spiral back in 2013. "Surprise."

"Ha!" Chloe's pensive attitude vanishes. Laughing, she jumps to her feet and stabs a finger in my direction. "I knew it!"

"Oh, like hell you did," I scoff. "Eighteen-year-old me was so deep in the closet she could see Narnia."

"Whatever you say, ya great big lesbian!" Now that I'm not putting so much effort into hating her, I'm amazed at how infectious Chloe's laughter is. "So who's the lucky lady?"

I almost tell her to mind her own business, but then it occurs to me that Max already knows, and she wouldn't be too happy with me if I asked her to keep secrets from Chloe. Besides, what's the point of keeping it a secret? I know Max will have done whatever was necessary to make sure Taylor got to safety, and I'm going to tell her how I feel the minute I see her anyway.

At least, I'm planning to, and hoping I don't chicken out at the last second. Living in a world without her was hard enough. I don't think I could bear having her alive and not talking to me.

For now, though, she's safe. She's probably with a bunch of other Blackwell students right now, safe and sound and well out of the storm's path. I wonder, does she know I'm missing? I hope she doesn't. I don't want her to be worried about me. Hopefully she just thinks I'm with another group somewhere and that we'll see each other soon.

Wow...we really will see each other soon. Taylor's alive and safe and I'm going to see h-

"Vic?"

"Huh?" I blink. "What?"

"You kinda spaced out there," Chloe says, smirking. "Thinking happy thoughts about a certain someone?"

"Yes, actually," I say. "I was thinking about Taylor."

A genuine sense of relief washes over me as the name passes my lips, then again when Chloe doesn't make some cutting remark. It's not like I expected her to, but old fears die hard.

"Taylor Christensen?" She waits for me to nod. "Yeah, that makes sense."

Okay, not quite what I was expecting. "The fuck is that supposed to mean?"

"Rachel always figured you two were getting' frisky on the down low." Chloe shrugs casually, as though she hadn't just started spouting crazy shit. "I was never really convinced."

"But that's...we never...she..."

"So you guys weren't hooking up?"

"No! She was straight." I pause. "I mean she is straight."

"If you say so."

"She dated guys."

"So did you," Chloe points out, because apparently, she's going to start using the truth against me. "Hell, so did I."

"But she actually liked the guys she dated." At least, I think she did. I was usually too busy seething with jealousy to pay much attention to the actual relationships.

"I dunno what to tell you." Chloe shrugs again. "Maybe she's bi?"

"Bi?" For a second, I really want that to be true. But I can't think of a single time she seemed to show the slightest interest in girls...I don't think. I'm pretty sure she never did.

Did she?

No, I definitely would've noticed Taylor checking out other girls. I wouldn't have been happy about it, but I would've noticed.

If I had, I could have found the courage to act on my feelings. I mean, I probably wouldn't because I was a total coward back then, but...where was I going with this?

"Yeah. It's short for bisexu-"

"I know what it fucking means, Chloe," I snap.

"Alright, take it easy." She holds her hands up. "Look, I'm not telling you what she is, one way or the other. All I know is tha-holyfuckingshit!"

I feel it happen a heartbeat before Chloe cries out. A small but jarringly sudden shift in how my body is balanced, as though my brain has been forced to suddenly recalibrate. It reminds me of how it feels to be walking up a flight of stairs and expecting there to be one more step than there really is. The way you lift your foot thinking there'll be something to support it, find nothing but empty air, start to fall a little, and for a fraction of a second nothing in the world makes any sense...then your foot hits the ground, you briefly feel dumb, then you go on with your day like nothing ever happened.

"Oh, shit!" Chloe laughs, maybe a little louder than necessary. "You did the thing! You did the whatchamacallit thing that Max did!"

Still a little disoriented, I look down at my hands (my fingernails now a much more familiar color), then at my sleeves (which suddenly look a lot less like cashmere and a lot more like brushed fleece), then down at my skirt (which is actually a pair of leggings) and let out a soft laugh of my own. "Holy shit, I actually did."

"Max!" Chloe shouts over her shoulder. "Vic did the thing! She's old now!"

"Oh, you just had to ruin it, didn't you?" I laugh, reaching over to shove Chloe's shoulder. "Respect your elders, asshole."

"Oh, whatev-" Chloe stops, then throws her arms in the air. "God damn it! Now you're older than me, too! Just Max was bad enough!"

"Seriously?" I laugh, because I feel like myself again and it feels awesome. "You're upset that Max went from a year and a half younger than you to a year and a half older than you?"

"It's weird!"

"She said to the time traveler."

"Seriously, shut up!" Chloe shouts, trying to look mad and totally failing.

"So I guess you're not okay with having a hot twenty-one-year-old girlfriend who's completely crazy about you?"

"I..." she pauses, looking away. "...didn't say that."

"What the hell are you two yelling about?" Max rushes up the stairs, blinks, then grins. "Oh my god! You look like you again!"

"Right?!" I look down at myself. "Am I taller? I feel taller."

Chloe looks me over for a second. "Y'know, I think you actually are. Like, by an inch."

"I can't believe I missed it." I look back up to see Max frowning a little. "I always wondered what it looked like from the outside."

"It was so freaky, Maximus," Chloe comments, looking me up and down. "She was just standing there, not doing anything. Then it was like, blink! New Victoria!"

That brings me up short. "Wait, you've never seen that before?"

"No, I..." Chloe hesitates. "Max wasn't with me when she did it."

I peer at Max, and she winces a little. "I was kinda in an ambulance?"

"You were in an ambulance," I repeat, slowly. "Why the hell were you in an ambulance?"

"She...uh...she kinda had a seizure when she got here," Chloe says, which brings up about a million more questions than it answers.

"She had a fucking sei-"

"But I'm totally fine now!" Max interrupts. "No problems here!"

"Right." I pause, then take a seat on a nearby crate. "Okay. I think you'd better start from the beginning."