The respite from worry was short-lived. Max awoke with a searing reminder of reality, the weight of it hanging heavy in her head. The thought of faking her way through another school day was abhorrent to her. And she still needed to figure out how to get information about Nathan from Victoria. She wished there was a better alternative, but who would be able to provide them with what they needed to know? Maybe David? The police? Asking them would only make things more complicated. At least with Victoria, she could swat away any concerns as being 'no big deal.' Even when that line wore thin and finally snapped, there was really nothing Victoria could do but continue to be suspicious. Worst case scenario, she might lose a friend...
With a groan, she sat up, pressing a palm against her temple to ease an echo of pressure. The memories of another reality flooded her mind, and though she still found that sense of warmth they provided, they were now tainted with questions and fears. Would it happen again? What sort of timeline would she end up in? What if she couldn't return? She noticed that the spot beside her was empty, and for a second felt a panic twitch in her abdomen. But the sound of banging and clinking coming between the crack in the door set her at ease. She tilted her head, straining to hear, and could make out the voices of both Chloe and Joyce.
After giving a quick look over her new text messages – Dana commenting on the night before, Warren asking about some movie, Courtney sending pictures of kittens - she swung her legs over the edge of the bed and pushed herself to her feet. She crept through the door to the top of the stairs and leaned forward as far as she could without falling.
"Hello?" she called, her voice crackling with its first use of the day.
"Down here," Chloe called back. "Breakfast!"
I guess the acting she's picked up from serving is coming in handy. Wish I could fake it that well.
Sleepily, she descended the stairs, furiously calculating her strategy with Victoria in her mind. The scent of pancakes met her halfway, and she let out an involuntary sigh of pleasure. She was starving. As she reached the bottom of the steps, the clanging from the kitchen fell silent. Everything fell silent. A familiar, indescribable feeling tugged at the hairs on her neck. Cautiously, she approached the kitchen, and yelped at what she found. Her heart spiraled down through a chasm inside her until she could no longer feel its beating.
Chloe was on the floor, her limbs strewn awkwardly, seemingly landing in whatever position gravity had deemed acceptable. Her eyes were open, staring without seeing. No light flickered within them. There was a hole in her forehead, blood lazily leaking out, leaving a sharp trail of red across her pale skin. Max leaned into the door frame, putting one hand to her stomach in an attempt to soothe her nausea.
Though, Chloe was not the only thing of note in the kitchen. The room was littered with car keys, so many that the floor couldn't be seen. In a crude way, it was reminiscent of a ball pit that children played in. They hugged around Chloe's body, outlining her in a sea of glistening metal. But the keys were not only on the floor. They covered the tops of counters, the stove, filled the sink. Even the cookie jar, previously a swear jar, was full of them.
"Where are you?" Max hissed, turning around and slowly scanning the house.
There was no answer, save for a handful of keys sliding off the top of the refrigerator, clattering among the rest of its kind on the floor. Max kept her eyes down, avoiding the sight of Chloe.
"I am not down for this bullshit right now," Max said hotly, announcing it to whatever, or whoever, may be listening. A breath later, movement caught the corner of her eye and she whipped in its direction, fully expecting to find a crooked reflection of herself. But, of course it wouldn't be that easy. A quiet 'no' escaped her throat.
"Excuse me, ladies," William said, strutting into the room from the other side with unnerving pep. He swung his arms in a cartoonish manner, bringing a fist up with each pump. "I have to go rescue yonder Queen at the Sav-Mart." The keys shifted under his foot and he teetered to the right before correcting himself. "She doth have many delicious bags of grub for us to feast upon!"
"You are ridiculous..." The words were thin, ghostly as they dripped from the corner of Chloe's unmoving lips.
"You'll be grateful for that someday," William said, his legs slipping from underneath him like someone unfamiliar with roller skates. He managed to find a stable spot and pulled a small, circular object from his shirt pocket. He clicked it. "I know I had those keys right here... I know it..."
"Don't suppose you can hear me," Max said dryly, staring at William. As expected, he didn't acknowledge her. She nodded to herself with a scowl. "Where are you?" she repeated, projecting her voice loudly. No answer.
He clicked the device again, and a beeping noise broke through the stale quiet that settled between their words. Max's eyes darted around, searching for the source, but there were simply far too many keys. Reminded of the bathroom in her first nightmare, she wondered if she was expected to dig around and find them herself. But...she didn't particularly feel like cooperating.
"Aha! There you are!" William kicked through the ocean of keys, scattering them with his footsteps until he was standing over Chloe. Max suddenly realized that the beeping was muffled, as if buried. A faint, red glow throbbed over Chloe's ribs. Right where she'd been shot. Horror flooded through her. "Let's see here..." William dropped to his knees and rolled Chloe over onto her back. He raised his hand above her, bringing his fingers together into a point.
"No fucking way," Max growled, spinning away and flinching at the terrible sound. "No, I am not doing this. Where the fuck are you?" There was there faintest feeling of movement behind her, like a sigh from the wind. She glanced over her shoulder and saw that the kitchen was completely empty. No Chloe, no William, no keys. Her nostril flared and she leaned against the doorway again. "You going to come out or what?"
Footsteps rang out above her, pounding on the floor. She listened as they moved, following their progress. They reached the top of the stairs, then stopped. Unsure what to expect would be coming down, she held her breath. It was easy to act angry, because she truly was, but fear sat beneath it like a shadow. There was the creaking sound of pressure applied to wood and a tiny giggle. With the quiet noise of friction, Nightmare Max slid down the railing of the staircase, facing away from Max. When she reached the end, she rolled backward, hanging upside down as if playing on a jungle gym.
"Helloooo," she greeted in a singsong voice, her big grin looking more like the despair of a tragedy mask upside down. Max made a 'tch' sound in her throat as she took notice of something 'wrong.'
"How long have the stairs been different?" she asked. There had always been vertical, wooden bars from ceiling to step. Now, it was an open space with a single railing to keep hold of. The other Max gave a surprised chuckle and her eyes flicked to the side in thought.
"Not sure," she replied, "month or two? I'm a little shocked you noticed. Good eye... Have you ever considered being a photographer?"
"Mhm," was all Max could vocalize. She sighed and dragged a hand down her face, showcasing just how unimpressed she was.
"Soooo," Nightmare Max completed her backflip, landing perfectly on her feet before spinning back to face Max, "I see you took a little trip." She raised an eyebrow in amusement. "The Incredible Human Yo-Yo!" She waved her hands in wonder.
"Was that your doing?" Max asked, her narrowing eyes filled with venom. The other Max shook her head.
"Nope," she said, "that's just...part of the deal." She snickered, slinging her arms behind her on the railing. "Pretty crazy though, right? Everyone just..." she bared her teeth in an exaggerated wince, "swept away in that storm. Crackin' skies, as the kids say."
"Do you happen to know how that's even possible?" Max stared at her intently. "How is it that nobody survived?"
"I know, right?" Nightmare Max straightened up, then casually walked by Max into the kitchen. She hummed to herself, opening several cabinets in search of something, then stopped and looked back at Max. "Do you think it's like a Passover situation and Arcadia Bay has a shortage of sheep's blood?" When Max didn't respond, she shrugged and continued looking through the cabinets. "I honestly don't know. It's spooky shit."
"Oh great, the one thing you apparently don't know," Max said, her voice flat. The other Max rocked her head back and forth in admittance. She stepped back from the cabinets and huffed, putting her hands on her hips.
"There's like...no snacks here," she mumbled to herself in disappointment. She turned to Max with an excited smile. "Hey, you should try the cinnamon Skweekinax! I know for a fact you'd love it. Seriously, I can actually guarantee it." Then she pointed at her. "By the way, you missed a really good opportunity for a sheeple joke with the Prescotts and all that." She added a slow, showy wink.
One of the most enraging, confusing, and unnerving parts of her encounters with her other self was the total lack of consistency in her behavior. It was hard to believe the person she was watching now casually suggesting cereal was the same one that had been screaming, her face splitting apart and bleeding in Max's room. To act like she didn't just put on a puppet show of William cracking into the love of her life's ribs filled Max with such an entangled mass of feelings, her brain didn't even know where to begin. It gave her chills.
"Have you figured out how to stop it yet?" she asked, maintaining that same excited smile, now with a dash of amusement.
"I suspect you know the answer to that," Max replied.
"You could at least play along?" Nightmare Max chuckled, shaking her head. "But yes, fine, I'm quite aware of how little progress you're making. Too bad the squirrels cooked Sammy's brain." A tendril of anger wrapped itself around Max. The truth of Samuel's behavior had upset her greatly, and for it to become yet another target for the other her to shoot at left a gust of flame in her. "I can give you a hint if you'd like..."
"How benevolent," Max said, crossing her arms. "And what's your hint?"
"You," the other Max flitted a hand at her, "are at the center of all of this. The eye of the storm, as it were."
"Yeah," Max responded with no emotion. She took a long step away from the door frame, her arms still crossed. "I gathered that much."
"See, I don't think you really get it, though," Nightmare Max said. "I'm not just being poetic. Aren't you curious why Bae-Exclamation-Point-Chloe didn't get any mini-lobotomies when you told her about this timeline?" She shrugged, bringing her hands high up in a childish manner.
"Yes..." Max came further into the kitchen, watching the other Max with curiosity. "Why is that?"
"Because you two are the ones who fucked up!" She snapped her fingers and laughed joyously. "It's as simple as all that! Your timeline is the problem child. You're essentially a magnet."
A cold wave crashed against Max's skin as she remembered the question the other Chloe had asked. If she and 'her' Max were also in danger of having their timeline torn up. She suspected as much, it was even somewhat obvious, but getting confirmation still hurt.
"You are the sun which all other Max and Chloes orbit!" Nightmare Max added with Shakespearean flair, resuming her search through the cabinets. She scowled and reached deep into one, removing a smattering of ivory bits Max could only assume were bone, and threw them onto the floor behind her.
"Does that include you, then?" Max asked. The question seemed to catch the other Max off-guard. She turned to Max with a raised eyebrow, seeming almost impressed with the question, and a smile slowly spread in her cheeks.
"No," she said, baring her teeth in a predatory manner, "I'm the black hole." As she said it, the color of her irises bled to black, shivering inside of her head, then returned to normal just as fast.
"Alright..." Max played it off as though it hadn't given her goosebumps, "so, that's it, then? All of the other timelines are drawn to mine?" She voiced it as a cool deduction, but it was a horrifying thought.
"You're popular!" Nightmare Max cheered, pushing the last cabinet closed. "Remember that? I called you out on that way back when." Max closed her eyes, attempting to calm herself and the other Max snickered. "Oh come on, don't be that way. See, we..." she gestured back and forth between them, "are developing a relationship. We have a history! We have lots in common!"
Without responding, Max turned and left the kitchen, moving out into the living room. Determined to keep up her defiance, she flopped onto the couch and kicked her feet up on the coffee table. The garage door to her right swung open.
"Alright, alright, fine," the other Max said as she stepped through the doorway. Max had to fight the natural instinct to turn back to the kitchen and look for her. "But, I guess you do see the additional problem with the infinite timelines thing now, yeah?"
It had crossed her mind, but she hadn't given it the time to really think about it. Still, now was as good a time as any to confirm her suspicions.
"The me in that other timeline was still using her powers," she sighed, "which means she was probably also creating timelines. And presumably, she's not the only one."
"Bullseye!" Nightmare Max twirled around the couch and stood in front of her. "Courtesy of your breaking things, of course. Like I said, you started with one that you just kept rewriting, and now there's trillions and fitwillions of other Maxes each creating infinite more." She leaned forward with a smile, waiting for Max to finish the thought.
"And the more there are, the faster things fall apart," Max said, not looking at her.
"Like little cosmic termites!" the other Max wriggled her fingers excitedly. "Which isn't to say this wasn't already going to happen, but it certainly speeds up the process." With a dreamy sigh, she spun away from Max and began wandering around the room.
Max didn't look after her, but kept staring ahead, her mind working over the information. Finally, she exhaled slowly and clasped her hands in her lap.
"Are you suggesting I kill myself?" she asked in a business-like manner. Nightmare Max turned to her and puckered her lips, dragging her finger along edge of the dining room table.
"Interesting thought," she said, mulling it over. "Like maybe since you're the OG, you'd be cutting it off at the source..." She squinted. "You thinkin' like a Fight Club situation when [SPOILERS] at the end?" Max finally looked at her with a furrowed brow. It was understandable, as she was taken aback by the long, shrill beep that filled the middle of the other Max's sentence. "In case they haven't seen it," she explained slyly, gesturing nowhere in particular. She skated over to the fireplace and plucked the poker out of its bucket. "At any rate, no. That wouldn't work. Killing the conductor of a runaway train doesn't bring it to an immediate stop."
"Then I fail to see how you've actually given me any sort of hint," Max replied, rolling her eyes in frustration.
"Oh?" Nightmare Max swished the poker like a swashbuckler, then dropped it back down into the receptacle. "I said I'd give you a hint as to what's going on, not to help you stop it. I, uh," she gave a rare blush of embarrassment, "I kind of get off on you knowing and not being able to do a fucking thing about it." She picked the snow globe with the doe in it off the fireplace mantle and shook it, then gave Max a knowing look. "Besides, would you actually off yourself if that were the answer?"
"Well," Max responded, not giving her question any thought, "if you're not going to say anything useful, I'd like to leave."
"What I just can't figure out," the other Max said as she traipsed to the backdoor. She shielded her eyes as she peered through it. "I just don't know what's going to give out first." She looked over the snow globe in her hand and released a contorted chuckle. "Shit, I'm confusing myself. This is supposed to be in Chloe's room, huh?" With a shrug, she yanked the backdoor open and tossed it outside. She turned back to Max and looked at her expectantly.
"How do you mean?" Max asked, purposely relaxing into the cushion of the couch, just to give off the impression that she was bored.
"Well, let's see," she tapped her index finger against her chin, "you've got all those little relationships you've been cultivating. Platonic, familial, romantic..." She shook her head. "But at the rate you're going, you'll burn those bridges to ashes in no time flat." She held her hand to her chest in feigned sympathy at Max's quick flash of uncertainty. "I know you're worried about it. And you should be! How much longer will they put up with your nonsense?" There was a very noticeable shift in her tone. It was much more sadistic.
Max didn't answer. She didn't have one.
"Then there's you." Nightmare Max gave her an analytical look up and down. "How long will you be able to hold it together? I can feel it from here. That...cracking glass in your head. You're wearing thin. You're going to break." She listlessly moved away from the backdoor, arms out wide. "And of course, the big one. The giant kaboom! One has to wonder if you'll even have time to lose your mind before it's all gone."
"...fuck you," Max said, but it lacked any punch.
"No thanks," she giggled, more and more of her teeth showing as she grinned, "but I'm sure if you ask Chloe, she'd be happy to take a tumble with me." Max felt her hands bundle into fists. "Who knows, I might even be able to sat-"
She was cut off by a loud knock against the glass of the backdoor. From the way she jerked in its direction, it seemed she wasn't expecting it either. Something round lifted into the air, and before Max could tell what it was, it threw itself into the door again. This time, it shattered through the glass and landed on the carpet. It was silent as they both stared at it... The snow globe that the other Max had thrown outside.
It burst, and Nightmare Max took a startled step back. In its place, as if it had always been there, the ghost doe stood tall. A sphere of snow lazily swirled around it. It looked at Max, instilling a shallow scratch of calm in her. Then, it turned to the other Max.
"What do you want?" she asked, fury bubbling under her words. For a moment, it seemed like it might actually respond to her. Instead, it took several long, graceful steps toward her. Nightmare Max backed up with each one, maintaining her distance from it.
"Do...you two know each other?" Max asked, pleased to find her tone had found a stride in faint sarcasm.
Nightmare Max didn't respond. She only glared at it, a wildfire's worth of hatred burning in her eyes. But...there was something else there, too.
"Are...you scared of it?" Max asked with a disbelieving snort. She collected another bit of mockery and smiled as she sat forward. The other Max slowly, and almost reluctantly, turned her attention to her.
"Scared?" she laughed incredulously. "Scared!?" She pointed at the doe, conjuring a crazed smile too big for her head. It didn't register as conveying any sort of emotion Max was familiar with, instead reminding her only of...blood. "You want to know whose fault all of this is?" She threw her hands out to the doe, displaying it with disgust. "Look no further! There's your fucking culprit!" A jagged sound clawed its way from her throat, something resembling a laugh as she looked back at the doe. "You did this to us! You, those fucking rats... All of you! You did this!"
"...what do you mean?" Max asked, getting to her feet. An uncertain, sour feeling struck her. The doe only continued staring at the other Max.
"Ohhh," Nightmare Max cackled, "that's the winning question, isn't it!?" She bent forward and gripped her hair tightly, shaking side to side as she continued to laugh. "You did this to me! You!" Max had never seen someone force such pained words through a smile. It was more than unnerving. It should've been impossible. The laughter slowed to a stream of chuckling, and the other Max stood up straight. Her face was a perfect mask of hatred. Now, she was the one who took a step forward. Her hands were tensed before her as she stared at the doe. "I'm going to break your neck," she whispered, "snap it right in two."
"What do you mean!?" Max repeated, shouting this time. The other Max ignored her.
"Break," she said, stressing the 'k' sound. A crack of thunder shook the house, immediately followed by heavy rain pelting the roof. Outside, the serene day was slaughtered by a terrible darkness.
"Answer me!" Max screamed. "What did it do!?" She rushed to them and jumped between Nightmare Max and the doe, holding her arms out wide to shield it. She glanced over her shoulder and found it was already halfway across the room. Without hesitation, it scampered right through the wall, leaving no trace behind. She turned back to the other Max and involuntarily gasped at the look on her face.
"You forget how vicious I can be," she spoke, the words sounding much like the English translation of a rattlesnake's warning. Max shrunk at her words, then growled.
"No!" Max jabbed a finger hard into to the other Max's chest, "you forget that I'm no stranger to this shit! Fighting time, the universe, whatever the fuck you want to call it... I've done it before and I fucking won!" Without realizing what she was doing, she took a fistful of Nightmare Max's shirt and jerked her closer. "The only difference is that now I'm much, much stronger!"
Nightmare Max didn't flinch, but her eyes grew darker. Something clamped tightly around Max's ankle, and it yanked her foot from underneath her. She slammed face down onto the ground, the impact knocking the wind out of her. The rain was now falling inside, passing through the roof as if it wasn't even there. It was freezing, biting her skin. Scrambling, she reached for her ankle and found a thick chain cuffed there. Following it, she discovered a massive anchor lying on the floor nearby.
"Why are you doing this!?" she screamed, tugging fiercely at the chain. She began to sink into the ground as it became softer, taking on the consistency of a sponge.
"I like to make very," Nightmare Max loomed over her with a lupine expression, "very sharp points, Maxine!" All at once, the walls unfolded away from the frame of the house, revealing nothing but endless, raging water around them. Above, the second story and roof faded into sand and were taken away by the violent winds. Still the rain fell on Max, so cold that it burnt.
Craters began opening up in the floor around her, filling themselves with ocean water. More and more appeared until Max was surrounded by nothing but water. The only thing left of the house was the small patch of carpet she and the anchor were on, creating something of an island.
"You're not going to win!" Max shrieked, her fingers stinging as they scraped along the iron clasp for the hundredth time. Brutal waves stretched in all directions, making it appear that she was lost at sea. Nightmare Max stood in front of her, but she didn't seem to be on anything solid. "You're not going to fucking win!" Max repeated, her throat hoarse.
Nightmare Max smirked and stepped on the water, her hands behind her back. She stopped next to the anchor and put her foot on it. Max's eyes went wide as lightning screamed across the sky, followed quickly by the shattering of thunder.
"Well...I guess we'll see," she said with a smile. She kicked her foot, pushing the anchor off of the island.
"No, no!" Max screamed, digging her nails into the carpet. There was a vicious tug on her leg, almost as if it were being torn off and a blinding pain zigzagged up through her, resonating in her ankle, knee, and hip. Freezing water hugged her up to her waist as she scrambled with her hands to find something to hold onto. Her fingers rushed over the carpet, burning the skin of her fingertips away. Then, all she could see was black sky and the giddy, monstrous face of the other Max. Then she saw nothing at all.
Max opened her eyes to the unfortunately familiar sight of a horrified Chloe. A tight, winding noise reverberated deep in her ears, and she realized she was clenching her teeth. Before she could speak, Chloe brought a finger to her lips, warning her to be quiet. Max listened closer and could hear the clattering of kitchenware down below. She was still at the top of the steps, cradled safely in Chloe's arms.
"You two comin' down?" Joyce called up. Judging by the way she said it, she hadn't noticed anything off. That was good, at least. The taste of blood sat in Max's mouth, and Joyce was the very last person she wanted to be seen by in such a state. Her and Chloe both having bad nosebleeds wouldn't even come close to revealing all that was happening, but it would certainly trigger Joyce's motherly instinct to worry. She brought a hand to her face and huffed when it met something sticky.
"Yeah, in juuuust a sec," Chloe answered back, "get that bacon ready, madre!" Chloe got to her feet, helping Max up with her, and carefully led her into the bedroom. "Talk to me," she said, closing the door.
"Her," was all Max said, jerking her shirt over her head roughly. She rolled her eyes at the splotch of blood on it, then decided to use it to wipe her face. "Can I borrow a shirt?"
"What happened?" Chloe went over to her dresser and yanked open the top drawer. She dug through it for a moment, then picked out a shirt. "What did she do?" she asked, handing it to Max.
"Typical bullshit," Max growled, tossing the bloody shirt onto the floor. "Just a lot of peacocking. Trying to fuck with me..." She narrowed her eyes. "Wait, no. The doe showed up." She looked at Chloe. "She was not happy about that."
"The ghost doe," Chloe said, as if she were the one answering a question. "How the fuck does it go from here into our dreams?" She held a hand up and closed her eyes. "Wait, new question. Why did it bother her?"
"Uhh..." Max put on the new shirt, pulling the bottom of it out so she could see the design, then she let her hands slap at her hips frustratedly. "She said it's the doe's fault. All of this shit."
"...what?" Chloe raised an eyebrow, caught by surprise. "How's that, exactly? Aren't the squirrels spazzing the fuck out about this? How does that make sense?"
"She didn't seem particularly fond of them either," Max said, "but it doesn't make sense."
Just like fucking everything else.
"Well, wait..." Chloe thought for a moment, then sat on the edge of her bed. She ran her hands through her hair, fluffing it about wildly. "We do know the animals aren't fans of the Prescotts. And if the other you is all pissy about them, then that at least confirms that they're linked together..." She sighed, then looked up at Max with tired eyes. "Right?"
"I guess that's true," Max admitted. "But how do they connect? And where does the storm come in?" She nibbled her lip. "We need to talk to Nathan. If he knows literally anything about this, he has to tell us."
Please, I hope he does. He has to.
"Then you need to get that info out of Vic today," Chloe said seriously. Max grunted and gave a sarcastic thumbs up, making for the door. "Hey, come on," Chloe followed her out of the room, "please don't get irritated with me. I'm super aware that this fucking sucks, alright?" She stopped in the doorway of the bathroom and rapped her knuckles on the recently changed door for emphasis. "I know it's not as easy as just fucking asking her."
Dammit, she has me all raging... I can barely think straight.
"I'm sorry," Max replied, ducking down to splash water on her face, "I'm still angry from her."
"I know, sweetie," Chloe said softly, coming close to Max and laying a hand on her shoulder. "I know. But we can't start snapping at each other, or we are absolutely fucked." She gave a big smile, that seemed to actually be genuine. "Save it for after we save the world, alright? You can be as bitchy as you want."
"Sure," Max said, her lip tugging up in a sad smile, "I guess I can wait."
"Atta girl." Chloe slipped her hand to Max's other shoulder so that her arm was around her. "You okay? Up for acting in front of Mom?"
Yep. Thespian Max, ready to go.
"I don't have a wide variety of options," she responded, her shoulders slouching. "Yeah. I'm hungry, so..." She gave Chloe a thoughtful, uneasy look. "What does it say about me that I can actually eat after shit like this?" Chloe frowned and rested her cheek on Max's shoulder, looking over their exhausted reflections in the mirror.
"It means we've gotten way, way too used to this," she said.
After a minute of Max composing herself, they went downstairs. The smell of pancakes once again washed over her, and she found herself glad that at least that part wasn't a creation of the other Max. As they turned to enter the kitchen, they both stopped dead in their tracks. Beside her, Chloe sucked in a sharp, startled breath. Somewhere in an isolated part of Max's mind, she lamented being unable to simply walk into the kitchen and enjoy her food.
"There you are, sleepyhead!" Joyce said, her hands on her hips as she smiled at Max. Going by Chloe's reaction, she was fairly sure Joyce hadn't gotten herself a haircut within the last twelve hours. Still, there she stood, her hair nearly as short as Victoria's. "I hope you're hungry. I may have overdone it with these pancakes."
No, not Joyce...
"I...am..." Max replied. She took a second to adjust, then smiled back. "I'm so hungry, I could eat a bear!"
"Now that is what I like to hear." Pleased, Joyce turned back around to the stove and tended to the sizzling bacon.
Max glanced at Chloe, who looked utterly terrified. It was easy to understand why, of course. Objects changing were one thing. People changing was a whole different monster. But your own mother? It was a sickening thought. Max took Chloe's hand and led her through the kitchen back out into the dining room, where they took their seats at the table.
"What the fuck?" Chloe mouthed to Max. In response, she could only shake her head and shrug.
I need to...somehow...be the calm one here.
"And here we are," Joyce said, coming to the table and setting their plates down in front of them. She gave a satisfied nod, then went back into the kitchen. Max watched as she walked away, wondering if a change in hairstyle was the only difference. Was it still the Joyce they knew? Would they even be able to tell? Chloe picked up her fork, her hand trembling. The sight of it fanned the embers of Max's anger.
Needless to say, they ate quickly, then left right after.
Max sat in the passenger seat, barely noticing the surroundings blurring by as they made their way to Blackwell. Her mind was soaking in a darkness, though not the kind she'd grown familiar with. It wasn't the slow poison of anxiety or sadness. Not the kind she often felt trapped within, clawing and kicking to pull herself out. Nor was it the kind that touched her when her thoughts turned to Jefferson - that burning, screaming hatred. No, this was something new. An anger lacking any light. A vacuum of silent fury rippling, swallowing all timidity. All uncertainty.
Still, even though that floated in the center of her thoughts, others did flow around it. More banal in comparison, but still leaving their imprints. Perhaps the most prominent was the return of her frustration with having to go through a day of classes. It wasn't even the acting anymore, but more so the feeling of being imprisoned by unimportant things. She decided that she just might take the next day or two off to focus on everything else. If only she could just tell them, it'd certainly provide an adequate excuse for a leave of absence.
Sorry, I have to save the world. Can I catch up on chem later? Kay, thanks.
Finally, she pulled her listless gaze from the window and looked back over at Chloe.
"Penny for your thoughts?" she asked, reaching across and taking the cloth of Chloe's shirt between her fingers. The girl had both hands on the wheel, so it sufficed as a source of contact. She hadn't said much since they left.
"Do you even have a penny on you?" Chloe asked in response, forcing a bit of humor into it. She set her elbow where the window met the door and tilted her head to Max. The sunlight caught behind her, reminding Max of the drive to Chloe's house after they met back up. It felt like...ages ago. An eternity. But, it was a good memory, and so it did something to soothe the fury within her.
"Nah," Max replied with a little shrug. She put her head back and sighed. "I.O.U.?"
"Sounds good," Chloe chuckled, then she grew more serious, her lips drawing tightly together. "It got my mom... That's so fucked up. I mean, was that even-"
"I don't know," Max said, cutting Chloe off simply because she didn't want to hear it out loud. "Maybe it'll revert like some of the other stuff? It seems kind of random about what sticks and what doesn't."
"Maybe," Chloe nodded with an absent stare. "Max... I don't know. What if we can't fix this?" She glanced over again, this time looking sickly pale. "We're not even close to figuring this out and we have no idea how long we have."
However long it is, it's only lessening faster and faster. But...maybe I don't need to say that right this second.
"We will," Max assured, somewhat surprised at how much it sounded like she believed it. "We'll figure it out. I know we will." She moved her hand from Chloe's shirt to her leg and gave a light squeeze. "You're off today, right?"
"Yeah," Chloe said, "I'll be on standby in case anything happens. Just call me and I'll be there." She stuck a cigarette between her lips, fumbling with her lighter, then lit it.
"Likewise," Max replied, "I'll bail on school in a heartbeat." She took a slow breath and checked herself in the side-mirror, not quite trusting the presence of her own reflection. "Remember when our list of suspects were all real humans? Not, you know, a fucked up copy of me or spectral animals?"
"Those were the days." Chloe bowed her head and made a sound of disgust. "And yet, the Prescotts remain the constant. I'm waiting for Sean to be a vampire or witch or...leprechaun. Would I even be surprised?" She puckered her lips. "Nope! I wouldn't. Not even kinda."
Me either.
"Buffy," Max said absentmindedly, as if she were agreeing. As she looked through the windshield, she thought she noticed something...odd about the road in front of them. She sat forward, her brow furrowing as she focused on it.
...the hell?
"Hey, do you s-" Before she could finish, the air rippled, then expanded. A small, blue car appeared on the road, only a few feet in front of them. "Chloe!" Max screamed, but the truck was already swerving to the side. Her head bounced off of Chloe's shoulder, then she was flung the other way, smacking against the passenger door.
Fortunately, Chloe was able to react quickly enough to avoid the car, and also managed to brake before they hopped the curb. The only real damage done was her front bumper scraping on the concrete of the raised sidewalk. The blue car continued on, seemingly unaware of its narrow escape. When it was further down the road, it flickered once, then twice. And then it was gone.
No fucking way!
"Jesus Christ!" Chloe shouted, panting heavily as her eyes bulged from her head. She turned to Max. "Are you okay!?"
The answer to that was more complicated than a simple yes or no, but she nodded anyway.
"Yes," she said, her chest similarly heaving, "you did see that, I take it?"
"What, that it fucking disappeared?" Chloe asked loudly. "Yeah, I caught that!" She snarled and gripped the wheel, shaking it furiously, then threw the truck in reverse. "You must be fucking kidding me! Is that what we're dealing with now?" She slammed her palm down hard on the dashboard. "I am so fucking sick of this! A goddamn car accident, REALLY?!" The truck lurched forward, resuming its way down the road.
"I'm sorry," Max whispered, though she wasn't entirely sure why that was the first, and only, thing that came to mind.
To say Max didn't absorb a single word of information in any of her classes would be generous. Through all of them, she kept all of her weight on the back of the chair, her arms hanging limply at her sides. Her eyes never closed long enough for someone to mistake her for being asleep, but when she blinked, it seemed to take a long time for them to open back up. She was exhausted. Not just physically, but in every way possible. Just within the past twenty-four hours, she'd traversed timelines, faced off with the other Max, and narrowly avoided a car accident that shouldn't have been possible to begin with. The words of Nightmare Max ran through her mind: You're wearing thin. You're going to break. That it was barely noon felt like a sick joke. That there was no promise of restful, worry-less sleep at the end of it all was an even sicker one.
If I break, then so will you...
At the final bell, she got to her feet, her movements slow and clunky. She took a deep breath and went out into the hall, digging through her bag to find a shot of energy drink. She opened her locker, depositing what she didn't need, and gulped down the bitter tasting liquid. More than anything, she hoped it'd at least suffice as a placebo. She wanted to at least feel like she had the energy to talk to Victoria.
"Max?" someone asked, and she buried her urge to sigh in irritation.
Great.
"Hey, Ms. Grant," she said, turning around to face her teacher. She looked worried. Max smiled, but it must have been a poor one, because Ms. Grant's expression only became more concerned.
"Are you alright?" she asked, reaching out to place a hand on Max's shoulder. "You seemed especially...distant in class today." She had a smirk, but it was only there to be reassuring. It was incredible how inauthentic it was.
Why do you have to be so fucking observant?
"Yeah, I'm totally cool," she responded, stepping away from Ms. Grant's touch, "didn't sleep great. Some...nightmares. I'm pretty tired."
"That's it?" Ms. Grant looked deep into her eyes. "You can talk to me if something's wrong."
"I know," Max assured, "I really appreciate it. But I'm okay, just the sleep thing." She watched as students swarmed by them, wanting to disappear into the crowd.
"Okay..." She didn't seem convinced, but it didn't look like she'd press the issue any further. "Well, keep it in mind if you ever need to work something out." Max thought for a moment, then shrugged.
Fuck it.
"What's your opinion on time travel?" she asked. Ms. Grant blinked, then chuckled.
"My opinion is that things happen for a reason," she answered, "and that while wanting to change something you may not be content with is tempting, it would remove part of who we are." It was evident she thought Max was trying to hint at a mundane problem in a fantastical way. She had to stop herself from laughing condescendingly.
Right, I've heard this speech before.
"The seems to be the general consensus," she said, shifting her shoulder to reposition the strap of her bag. "Just wanted your official science-y take on it." She took a half step backward, hoping it served as a signal that the conversation was over. Ms. Grant took the hint and nodded.
"See you tomorrow, Max," she said with a smile, then turned to walk back into her classroom.
"Maybe," Max whispered to herself, going the opposite direction.
It wasn't until she stepped into the dorm hallway that she realized someone had tried talking to her outside and she simply didn't notice. She made a mental note to explain that she had her earphones in, just in case it was mentioned later. She took a small breath to clear her mind, running a hand through her hair. As she made her way down the hall, she waved to Brooke, nodded at Stella, and said hi to Juliet. Autopilot responses she was glad her body could execute without her direct interference.
She came to a stop in front of Victoria's door and took out her phone, firing off a quick text to Chloe. No doubt the girl had been sitting anxiously all day, waiting to hear about how things were going. To her right, she heard a door open and could see the shape of someone stepping out into the hall.
"Hey Max," Brooke greeted rather cheerily. Max stuffed her phone in her pocket, as if caught doing something she shouldn't be. She turned to Brooke and faked a smile.
Everyone wants to fucking talk today.
"Heya Brooke. How's it going?" she asked.
I don't care. I'm sorry that I don't care.
"Not much to report," she responded, the corner of her lips angled up in a dry smirk. She turned to show Max her backpack and reached behind her to pat it. "Thinking about taking the drone for a spin. Haven't had the chance since winter ended."
"Oh, nice. That'll be cool," Max said, nodding to her. A prickly feeling feathered along the back of her neck. That sensation of 'something wrong.'
Wait. Didn't I just...?
Slowly, she looked over her shoulder, putting all of her focus on keeping her jaw shut tight. Brooke was there at the end of the hall, leaning against the wall as she played on her phone. Max's stomach convulsed and she thought she might be sick.
Oh no. Fuck!
"Woah, you okay?" Brooke asked, leaning over to get a better look at her. Max forced her wide eyes to reset to their normal state. "You seem really out of it today."
"Yeah, I'm fine," she replied, flitting a shaky, dismissive hand. "I, uh," she swallowed, "I gotta talk to Victoria about something important, so..."
"Ah, gotcha." Brooke gripped the straps of her backpack. "Well, if you want to hang out, I'll be outside. I'll even let you fly the drone if you promise to be careful...?" The way she said it made it sound like she was trying to cheer her up.
Unable to find her voice, Max nodded, and Brooke wandered off seemingly unphased. She watched as she walked down the hallway, walk right past herself without even the smallest bit of awareness. Max took in a steadying breath and knocked on Victoria's door. It sounded far more panicked than she intended it to.
"Uh...who's there!?" Victoria called, and Max could hear someone else say something much quieter. All she could make out was a frenzied 'your shirt's over there!' Her stomach rolled over again as she cursed her luck. Of course Kate would be around for this. Of fucking course.
God dammit.
"It's Max," she responded reluctantly. Quicker than expected, the door was torn open. Victoria was smiling, but her eyes showed a great amount of concern. They almost looked crazed. That only made it worse.
"Hey, hi, what's up?" Victoria tugged her into the room, closing the door quickly behind her. She was still situating her shirt. "You okay? Everything alright?"
Nope and...no! Ha ha...ha... yay!
"Yeah, everything's cool," Max lied, casually walking over to and sitting on the couch. She turned to look at Kate for the first time, sitting on Victoria's bed with flushed cheeks. "Hey, Kate."
Sorry to interrupt, I guess.
"Hi," Kate said, her smile looking a bit more genuine than Victoria's, but still undeniably nervous. "Are you sure you're okay? You look pale."
Take a shot every time I say 'I'm fine.'
"I always look pale," Max chuckled. She glanced back and forth between the two. "So, how are you guys?"
"Um..." Victoria stood in front of her, like she might block her path if she attempted to escape, "I'm okay. I mean, school is a drag but...you know."
"I so know," Max responded, and at least that was true in its own way. She pressed the heel of her palm hard into her eye as she tried to think.
A straight line is the quickest path, but... Ugh.
Her mind drifted back to Brooke walking right by herself, and she quietly huffed in annoyance. Though the thought made her feel dirty, she wished there was a Victoria doppelganger she could interrogate instead of this one. But no, of course not.
"Do you have a headache?" Kate asked. Max realized she was still pressing against her eyes, her vision filled with colorful sparks and dimming around the edges. Self-consciously, she yanked her hand away and smiled.
"Just a little bit," she said, "but it's no big deal." She hesitated for a moment, then scowled. The only plan she had come up with didn't have much nuance to it, but it was all she had. "Uh, hey," she sat forward, "Chloe and I have been thinking..." Victoria perked an eyebrow and came around to sit beside her, shooting a nervous look at Kate as she did so. It was still odd to see her so...attentive. She nodded for Max to continue, like she'd been waiting for this moment for some time. "So, you know how you went to visit Nathan?"
"I fucking knew it," she growled, smashing her hands against her face. Max caught her by the shoulder and pushed, bringing her face back up to look in her eyes.
"Dude, no," Max shook her head, "you didn't do anything, okay?" Her eyes flicked left and right, and she smiled. "Yeah, no. We were just thinking that since you went and got all this stuff off your chest, maybe we could, too?"
I might be able to work this angle...
"Um," Victoria tilted her head, her curiosity thankfully overtaking her misplaced regret, "what for?"
"For..." Max looked at Kate, then back to Victoria, "I mean, Chloe sort of has some stuff she could hash out with him, you know?" She felt bad about using Chloe as the reason, but was also positive she'd approve. "I mean, there's a whole back story for why they even met in the bathroom and everything. Stuff they could put to rest."
"It's been bothering her?" Kate asked, frowning.
"Yeah, I think a lot," Max said, sickened that she was preying on Kate's concern. "It'd be good to finally check that box and move past it. It'd be good for her, you know?"
"I guess...yeah, I can see that," Victoria mused quietly. She sat up straight. "So, you want to go visit him?"
"Yes, yes," Max responded, nodding with far too much enthusiasm.
Holy shit, this is going so well. Please, please, let this work out.
"Well...alright." Victoria's mouth twitched as she thought it over. "When should we go?" Max's face immediately went blank, all trace of excitement vanishing.
I...should have seen that coming. I should have...seen...
"Uh, actually..." Max squinted as she worked her way through it, "I was thinking she and I could go alone. Should, I mean."
"Oh." Victoria sat back, surprised. "I mean, I wouldn't have to be there when you talked to him. Just come with for support. We could go out afterward and everything to talk about it."
"That's...really nice of you, but I don't think-" Max began.
"It'd probably be nice to make sure everything goes smooth," Kate agreed, looking at Victoria. "I could come too. We should all do this together."
Jesus Christ, you're joking.
"What? No," Max held her hands up and shook her head, "no. Vic went by herself! We can too!" Her voice was much harsher than she meant it to be. Kate took on a wounded expression.
"I just thought..." she trailed off, looking down at her lap.
No, Kate...
"Max," Victoria said, her voice stern, "what is going on with you?" She laid a hand on Max's arm, and Max wondered how many people had done that today. "Please don't say 'nothing.' Please, I'll fucking scream."
"Nothing," she replied before she could even fully process Victoria's words. She winced. "No, sorry. But I'm okay. Seriously."
"Look," Victoria continued, "I'm not saying you like, owe it to me to tell me all of your shit, but..." She shrugged, letting out a long, dejected sigh. "Maybe it's my fault for assuming we were close enough that you just...would."
Fuck. Fuck. Please do not do this to me.
"We are," Max assured, "but there's nothing to tell. It's okay! Everything is okay!" The lie was so heavy on her tongue, it almost hurt. "Everything's okay," she repeated, her voice cracking. ...you'll burn those bridges to ashes in no time flat, she could hear the other Max say. "It's...it's okay..." She smiled at the blurry image of Victoria, then choked out a quiet sob.
Should...should I just...tell them? Will that be easier?
"Hey," Victoria said soothingly, putting her arms around Max and pulling her against her chest. She'd never hugged her like that before. Max wasn't sure she'd ever actually seen her hug someone like that before. Suddenly, she felt another pair of arms around her. When she looked, Kate was no longer sitting on the bed. "It's...it's okay, Max," Victoria whispered, "I don't know what's going on with you, and...you don't need to tell me if you really don't want to. But if you decide to, I'm here. Okay?"
I know you're worried about it, Nightmare Max's words echoed in her head, and you should be!
"Me too," Kate added, resting her cheek on Max's other shoulder, "we're here for you, Max. Just like you've always been there for us." She giggled quietly. Sadly. "Even angels need angels."
Max wasn't sure whether her saying that was a byproduct of mixing timelines, or if that was simply something that always sat inside of Kate's heart. Either way, it made her cry much, much harder.
She sat in her room, finding it difficult to focus on anything. It was all blurry, and the inability to pull it into focus just made her acutely aware of how long she'd gone without taking a photo. When was the last time she had even held her camera? Frowning, she went over to her desk and picked it up. She held it preciously, cradling it as she slowly retreated back to the couch. It sat in her lap, hugged against her stomach.
She just wished she thought there was something beautiful enough to take a picture of. But it was all so ugly.
I can feel it from here, that...cracking glass in your head, her own voice said, stabbing her thoughts.
The conversation with Victoria had yielded the desired results, but it went about as smooth as broken glass. Once she had finished crying, which had taken quite a while, Victoria told her all she needed to know about visiting Nathan. He was being kept in a mental health facility as a resident. She assumed Sean had pulled strings to help keep him out of prison, but it was entirely possible the result would have been the same even without his father's influence. It took all of five seconds to realize he was too disturbed, too unstable to follow normal legal procedure. And she wouldn't be the slightest bit surprised if his confession about Jefferson had earned him some form of leniency. Though, it seemed that for all intents and purposes, the facility fulfilled the same role as a prison cell.
The good news was that they wouldn't need to wait long before they could act. Visitation just so happened to be the next day. It was nice to finally have a lucky break, but considering the task, it was hard to really call it lucky. They needed to speak with Rachel's murderer. In another time and place, Chloe's murderer. Lucky wasn't the right word. It was more like finding out you only needed to amputate one arm instead of both.
It's come to this...
As for Victoria and Kate, they stopped prying for information, but Max could tell it took every ounce of control for them to do so. They were both clearly pained to see their friend so upset, but instead they only focused on trying to comfort her. Max was immensely grateful for this, but she knew the truth of it. She had planted a seed that would bloom into destruction. They'd pull away from her eventually. Not knowing how to help, or why she was being so secretive... Not knowing why they weren't 'worthy' of helping her... What was there to do but step back?
She knew exactly how it felt to be in that position.
She cursed under her breath, berating herself for being unable to keep it together in front of them. She could only guess at what they were thinking.
Please, I can't lose you guys...
A knock on the door stirred her from her thoughts, and she pulled her camera tighter against her defensively. Then she relaxed, relieved that Chloe had finally come to her. She could help. She always did.
"Hey, Max?" It was Warren's voice. Max clamped her eyes shut, bringing the camera up and touching her forehead to it. She stayed quiet, hoping he might just go away. "Are you in there?"
She hadn't really spoken to him since everything started, and wanted desperately to keep it that way. He was too close. He knew too much. She just wanted to protect him.
Not now. Not you, too. Please. I can't do this.
"Please?" he asked. His voice was quiet, but pleading. She tightened her shoulders, whimpering silently. But what if he wasn't there for that? What if something else was wrong? She couldn't just leave him out there if he needed her.
"I'm here," she said, only just loud enough for him to hear. Though, she hoped he might not have.
The door creaked open painfully slow, and Warren stepped inside, a somber look on his face. Without speaking, he came over and sat next to her on the couch. With a deep sigh, he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.
Okay so, definitely not about anything else...
"Victoria said you've been acting weird ever since you had a nosebleed..." His voice was strained and very, very quiet.
"Oh," was all Max could say in response.
"Max, why..." he roughly rubbed his face and a frustrated growl left his throat, "why didn't you tell me?"
Because...
"There's nothing to tell," she replied, still looking ahead. She clung to the camera in her lap. "I just had a dry nose. It happens. Allergies and stuff."
"Now you're going to lie to me?" Warren turned to her in disbelief. "I mean, I know you're not like, obligated to tell me but I just thought..." he shrugged, "I thought I was part of the team, you know?"
Fuck, please stop using that line against me. I can't...
"You are," Max said, now turning to face him. He held up a hand before she could continue. She fought the urge to keep going. To hold on. To say or do something to make it better.
"But you're lying, Max," he said, his tone...angry. She'd only ever heard him like that once before. "You can fool them, but I...I know about everything. Like, do you know that I still feel crazy believing you about all of this? Everything in my head tells me it just does not make sense. But I fucking do, because more than anything, I trust you." His eyes darted to the side and his jaw worked soundlessly. "I'm just worried about you. It's been months since any of this happened."
For the smallest, most miniscule moment, she actually debated telling him it was all a joke. She and Chloe had been lying to him this whole time as sick form of entertainment. But he had experienced the brain shocks. He had seen the bloody noses. And more than that, she just couldn't bring herself to do that to him.
"I trust you too, you know," Max responded. "And you are part of the team. It's just that this is...it's..." She closed her eyes. "It's not big deal."
It's too big for you. I don't want you involved!
"Does Chloe know, at least?" he asked, disregarding her attempt at lying. Max nodded. "Okay, that's good." He thought for a moment. "Does this have to do with her dreams getting worse?"
"I don't know, but the timing is pretty spot on..." Max huffed and shook her head. "No. It's fine. I don't want to talk about this anymore." Warren was about to speak, then his shoulders sagged. She'd never seen someone look so defeated. "I'm sorry," she whispered.
How much longer will they put up with your nonsense? the echo of the other Max's voice asked.
"It's cool," he said, rocking forward and getting to his feet. "Just, uh, if you need me for anything..." She nodded again, but the door had already clicked shut.
She thought she had run out of tears in Victoria's room, but sadly, she was proven wrong.
"Sorry I'm late," Chloe said, closing the door behind her, "I stopped by the Two Whales to get the next few days off, then I went to..." She stopped. Max was still on the couch, her camera in her lap. She slowly turned to look at Chloe. "Babe, what is it?"
"I'm just now realizing how powerless I really am," Max said quietly. Chloe sat down beside her and took one of her hands into her own.
"What do you mean?" she asked. "What happened, Max?"
Everything.
"It's like..." Max chuckled in dismay and buried her face in her hands, "my entire life revolves around knowing or being told exactly what's going to happen and being unable to do anything about it." She gritted her teeth together. "It's either that I can't save someone, or a storm is coming, or the world is ending. It's not a fair fight! I'm always the one on the ropes!" She held her other hand up and tensed it, scowling at it. "That's all my power really is. The universe mocking me. Showing me all the different ways that things end up the same."
Over and over and over. Just obstacle after obstacle.
"What happened?" Chloe asked again, this time much softer.
"The other me said I was going to lose everyone. She told me. She...bragged about it. And now..." Max gestured at the door. "I can feel them pulling away. It's happening."
"Max," Chloe said, leaning close and whispering directly into her ear as she held her, "you're not going to lose anyone. I promise." She touched her nose to Max's cheek. "You got through all of that other shit before. And you'll get through this. I'm here. I promise."
Please don't pull away, too. Please.
Max put her weight into Chloe, letting the girl's embrace provide what comfort it could, which wasn't as much as she would have liked. She took a deep breath.
"Tomorrow we visit Nathan," she said. "Visitation starts at 4PM. It's like an hour and a half away."
"You did it," Chloe said, relief plain in her voice. "Good job, baby. Tomorrow it is. We figure this shit out. Hopefully..." She kissed Max's cheek. "How did the talk go? Not...good?"
"Awful," Max replied. "I broke down crying in front of her and Kate. It all just rushed out. I actually debated telling them for a second." She looked at Chloe and shook her head, her eyes far away. "But then I thought about everything that'd do. I'd...break them." She huddled in on herself. "I feel like a bad person for encouraging them to get together. Kate almost...almost killed herself, and Victoria played a part in that. And I just like," she made a sound of disgust, "I was like, hey, you should be girlfriends! Like some kind of matchmaker!" She huffed and swiped at her eyes. "Do you know what that would do to them? If they learned everything?"
How would they react? It was so different...
"You're not a bad person," Chloe said, latching onto the only thing she could really respond to. Max's jaw went taut and she sniffled.
"And now Warren is totally hurt because we kept it from him," she added.
"You're just trying to protect him," Chloe assured. "I'm sure he understands that. Even if he is hurt now. He must understand it deep down."
"I have...never felt like this before," Max said, realizing she was shaking. "I'm so scared."
"I am too." Chloe held her tighter. "It's fucking scary."
Max didn't bother correcting her. She didn't need to know that she was really afraid of herself.
"What's in the bag?" Max asked, nudging the plastic bag that Chloe had dropped by their feet. Chloe picked it up and pulled the handles away from each other as she peered down inside it.
"Well," she said, "I thought I should explore our options." She reached in, then removed one bottle filled with pills. "I stopped by the store and picked up some melatonin to help us get some sleep. And then some energy drinks in case we want to stay awake." She frowned, looking ashamed, then reached in again and pulled out a Ziploc bag. There was a handful of pills in it, clearly not obtained legally. "I went ahead and scored some Adderall too, in case we really wanted to stay awake." She rolled her eyes. "Pick your poison, I guess."
So many flavors...
"You've thought of everything," Max sniffled again. She was smiling, though. "I think tonight we should do the melatonin. We need the rest for tomorrow."
"Agreed," Chloe said. She leaned forward and kissed Max. It was just a peck at first, but Max took hold of her, not letting her pull away. Chloe didn't argue.
They didn't quite know how to handle the rest of the day. There was a certain amount of relief and calm that came with having a definitive plan for the next day, but they were of course still jittery because of the waiting. So, it became something of an awkward attempt at normalcy. They watched two movies, then listened to music. Max even played her guitar for a bit, and Chloe watched her with huge, adoring eyes. It worked, and it was nice, but there were several moments where they'd look at each other nervously, knowing exactly what they were both thinking about.
But all of the self-aware, forced routine fell away when they crawled into bed. Then, they were as genuine as ever. They held each other, kissed each other. Whispered 'I love you' over and over and over. It was nice to know that, regardless of anything else, it always came back to that.
Max watched Chloe sleep, her chest rising and falling in a steady, peaceful pattern. She just so happened to "forget" to take the melatonin, and so she remained awake. Looking at Chloe, she was reminded of all she'd gone through to keep her...
She stood up to David only an hour after meeting back up with her. She pulled the trigger of what she thought was a loaded gun while aiming at Frank. There was so little hesitation there that it still surprised her when she thought of it. She sat in the Dark Room, violated and tarnished by Mark Jefferson. She even...killed her...just to keep her alive. And in the end, she still fell short. She went back through the photograph to let her die. And even that, in retrospect, proved to just be another terrible, painful choice that ultimately led to keeping Chloe alive and beside her. But that even after all of that, she was still faced with the threat of losing her...
You're wearing thin...
You're going to break...
And so, she did.
Something within her snapped, splintering and cutting her insides with the shrapnel of it. It lashed in every direction, tearing her to shreds. Her head went dark, her heart even darker. When she breathed, it was as if broken pieces rattled around inside of her.
Silently and carefully, she got out of bed. She pulled on a pair of shorts, looked at Chloe for a moment longer, then left the room.
The darkness of the hallway felt alive, the shadows circling around her like vultures. Slowly, she walked down the hall, listening to the quiet. She held a hand out to her side, like she might collect a handful of darkness. The feeling was unmistakable. It was the same one she'd always felt when she looked at the Tobanga. Like she was being watched from all directions.
Good. She hoped they were watching carefully.
As she stepped outside, she was met with a symphony of insect noise. In contrast with the utter silence of the dorm, it was almost overwhelmingly loud. The chirping of crickets melded with the rattling of cicadas, serenading the night. Fireflies glided across the courtyard, more than any she had ever seen before. The light they gave off was so bright that it took her a moment to realize that something was missing. She moved down the steps and out onto the pathway, scanning around her. She looked at the fireflies, watching intently as their lights lit, then dimmed. It was only when she noticed how empty the air was around them when their lights went out that she thought to look up.
They sky was pitch black. She spun around in a slow circle, waiting to see the dull glow of the moon behind a patch of clouds. But no matter where she looked, it was nowhere to be found. The moon was just...gone. She strained her eyes against the night and was able to make out the vague burning of faraway stars, but they seemed far less bright than they should be. It should have frightened her much more than it did, but she could only think about how fitting it was.
Same, sky. Same.
A hoot speared through the sounds of insects, and she turned to find a large owl perched in a tree. It wasn't big the way many owls are, but enormous. Its eyes glittered, flicking left and right as if following the movements of her pulse. Then, at the base of that same tree, several squirrels scurried from behind it. One by one, they hopped up onto the bench and sat, facing her. A swarm of fireflies spiraled around her in a lazy cyclone. They parted as she took a few more steps, but she stopped again when the raccoons appeared from the bushes.
An audience... Good.
They kept coming. A fox peeked its head from over the hill, then prowled down slowly, coming to a stop at the edge of the courtyard. The sound of wings drew her attention to another tree where she saw a raven, rivaling the owl in size. It cawed, adding its call to the building song of the wild. Below it, massive spiderwebs stretched through the spaces between the branches. A wild cry erupted behind her, and she turned to find not one, but two...wolves sitting on the steps leading into the dormitory. The steps she had just walked down less than a minute ago. They took turns howling, filling the air with a constant whine.
But she felt no fear. Truthfully, she didn't feel much of anything. Nothing but a smoldering heat deep inside of her. Calmly, she walked further along the path, glancing down at the army of ants that evaded her steps. Somewhere off to the side, she heard a low rumble, and recognized it as the type of sound that didn't belong anywhere near Oregon. She looked at each of them with casual curiosity, greeting every new arrival. She heard yet another noise that, as far as she could recollect, shouldn't even be in the United States.
She stopped again and held out her hand. A bright, luminescent butterfly landed in her palm and flapped its wings once. She didn't know how, but she was absolutely certain it was the same one from the bathroom. There was no mistaking it. With a gentle movement, she returned it to the air, then turned expectantly to the doe that stood atop the hill where the Tobanga once was.
"There you are," she said, her voice sounding strange in her own ears. It was lilting and musical, effortlessly mixing in with the concert around her. She left the path and stepped onto the grass, fluffy and full beneath her bare feet. She climbed the hill and met with the doe face to face. Unlike every other time, it didn't run away. It only stared back at her.
You really are beautiful. Graceful...
"She said its your fault, you know," Max continued, sitting down in the grass, just in front of the vibrant, red flower that had recently appeared. She looked around her, nodding with satisfaction when she saw the animals were all still watching her. "I guess it was a team effort. All of you." The doe was perfectly still, its only movement being the blinking of its eyes.
Suddenly, she felt the presence of something else. Off in the darkness, something was there. She could see nothing, but could tell it was impossibly big. The sensation that she was being watched had been with her since she left her room, but this...this was different. It dwarfed the previous feeling. It was the difference between a gentle summer breeze and a storm. It was heavy, pressing down on her. She was frightened, but only for a moment.
"I don't know what you all want," she said, reaching out and brushing her knuckles along the soft petals of the flower. "I can't tell if you're good or bad. You make me feel calm... Samuel says you watch out for me, but then you also ruined his head." She looked over at the squirrels and frowned. "Which is it? Are you helping or...hurting?" The doe cocked its head in curiosity.
The thing in the darkness shifted and she felt the movement in her chest.
"Listen," her voice danced from her throat, the sweet note of an instrument, "I want to be very clear about something." Her gaze darkened, fire circling her irises. "I will not allow you to take her from me. I will burn this entire town to the ground if you even try." Without realizing it, she had shifted her eyes away from the doe and aimed them at the pressure coming from the shadows. "I don't care what you are or what you want. I will make it so not even weeds will be able to grow here again." Her hand drifted from the petals of the flower down to its stem. She eased her hand around it. Thorns dug into her flesh, but her thoughts were elsewhere. She had no time for pain.
"You have no idea what I'd go through to be with her," she said, squeezing the stem of the flower tightly. Something warm ran down her hand. "I am sick of constantly being on the defensive." Her nostril flared when she felt another ripple of pressure slithering in through her ears and mouth. "Samuel says you're breathing now and that you're pretty happy about it... I will cut off your air."
She jerked her arm upward, ripping the flower from the soil. Instantly, it drooped and wilted, shrinking rapidly. Then, one of the petals fell from it, splashing when it hit the ground. Another fell, then another, leaving drips of dark red in the dirt. The doe took one slow step back.
"The Blood of Arcadia," Max mused. She got to her feet and let the bare stem slip from her hand. Her palm was much redder than she expected, and the burning of the cuts was becoming more noticeable. "I promise," she said, looking somewhere she couldn't quite see, "if you touch her, the Prescotts will be the least of your problems."
Something changed in the air. It was so abrupt, it left her dizzy and confused, unable to understand what happened. But then, she noticed it. It was silent. No, it was even quieter than silence. The bugs had ceased their singing. There were no bird sounds, no howling, no scraping of leaves. There was nothing. Less than nothing, as if you could turn the volume into the negatives. She slowly looked to her right and saw all of the animals still there, still staring, but entirely mute.
The thing in the darkness moved, sending a quake through her chest. She smirked.
"I guess I struck a nerve," she said, and her voice was the only music that fluttered into the night.
As the stinging in her hand worsened, she wondered if this was what it meant to be crazy. To 'break,' as the other Max would say. It was so...quiet. She flexed her hand at her side, and for a moment, the sound of her own blood dipping onto the ground was all that existed. Was this what it meant to be crazy?
Was it crazy to be holding up a night with no moon on your shoulders, surrounded by the eyes of the wilds? It was as if the Blackwell dormitory courtyard was a joint that had been dislocated from the rest of reality.
It stirred again and the atmosphere cluttered in Max's head, then fell away.
She turned away from the doe and trotted down the hill, making her way back to Chloe. There was an element of serenity in the way she moved, almost like a dance was taking place inside of her. She wore a smile so lovely that even the sunset would feel inadequate. But the dance within her was fueled by a fire shrieking in agony, crying out that even it was being burnt by the heat. The smile was propped up on glamorous, unending pillars of rancid conviction.
She ignored the animals. There was nothing more she needed to say. Her message was clear:
Nothing would take Chloe from her. Not even Arcadia Bay itself.
A/N: wtf
So...how's it goin'? I guess we have a lot to talk about.
It's been a pretty hefty break, and unfortunately I have to say I'm still not quite ready to get back into frequent updates just yet. But, for various reasons, I wanted to put this chapter out. First and foremost, I'm aware that a good chunk of my readers don't follow me on Twitter, so there's probably a lot of you who just thought the story was straight up abandoned. Not the case! We are still kickin' and going strong. Ouro will NEVER be abandoned. That I can promise with my whole heart.
To catch everyone up to speed, I've been writing this whole arc out ahead of time instead of going chapter by chapter. It's going well, and I really like how it's turning out, but this fact combined with some mental health/irl issues has made the wait much longer than I ever expected it to be. And that sucks, and I do apologize. If you're ever worried about the state of Ouro, not only is my Twitter a good way of seeing what's up, but my CuriousCat page has become a really good source of update info for the story. My name on both sites is TomorrowHeart, so it should be easy to find me.
As for the chapter itself... Well, we're officially on some weird and sad business. Also, Max has fucking had it. I hope you guys enjoy it, at least! It's...weird saying that after such a long time. Oh god, I just got anxious. Welp, too late, we're postin'.
Ummm anything else...oh! It's been a little while since I've done it, but I started streaming on Twitch! I've done the first three episodes of Life is Strange, and if you want to check them out, they're uploaded to YouTube (once again, both are TomorrowHeart.) I even had Mee Luffy with me for two of 'em! I'm going to do episodes 4 & 5 of course, plus a bunch more stuff too! I guess I just figured I'd throw that information out there. Do with it as ye will.
I'm sad that I can't give an ETA on the next chapter, but I hope this does ease some people's concerns. Ouroboros is alive! Long live the snake!