Author's note: So, yes, I completely failed my one-chapter-a-day thing. Lesson learned - make sure you have a loooot of time to write things. Real life just totally filled up . So, sorry for the delay in posting. I did go over this a few times for editing, so I wouldn't call this rough by any means.
And, just as a heads-up, this is the last chapter. After this is just the epilogue, which is shorter but still an important part of the story (and don't worry, I've already written the epilogue, so that will go up tomorrow!).
Friday, October 18
She woke up badly, her head throbbing as light pushed sharply against her eyes. Her whole body was painfully slow to move. A soreness creeped up her legs and arms, making each motion difficult, though she couldn't imagine why.
It took her several seconds to get an arm under herself and push up from the ground. She raised her other hand to brush dirt from her cheek, all the while blinking furiously against the too-bright sun. Something wet brushed her fingers- blood, trailing in a line from her nose.
Just as things were starting to come into focus, her head banged against something, making her eyes water.
"Ow- dammit-"
She gingerly moved in another direction and finally got herself together enough to sit up properly.
She wasn't in the graveyard anymore. The ground around her was drier and less grassy, little rocks pocking the area where she was sitting. Above her loomed a tall shape, like another person, but it was unmoving. She focused on it, imagining her eyes like the lens of a camera, adjusting and adjusting until it came into focus-
The Tobanga. The carved animal faces decorating the mysterious totem pole of Blackwell stared out into the distance, like an old and unfeeling sentinel. Max rubbed the back of her head, soothing the spot which had knocked against the wooden figure.
"What the fuck…" she muttered, as she glanced around. She caught sight of the Blackwell dormitory. Her head was aching from both the inside and the outside, so she didn't give her current situation much thought, chalking it up as another night lost to the voice in her head.
After a few moments she struggled to her feet. Her balance was precarious and she stumbled a little, catching herself before falling.
"Max?"
She straightened to catch sight of Taylor, Victoria's right-hand-girl (for lack of a better term), approaching.
"Oh my god. Were you sleeping with the Tobanga?"
"Wh-what-?" Max stuttered.
"-…Hey, your nose…"
That felt like a strange comment, and it was only when Max rubbed her nose that she remembered the streak of blood was still there.
"I'm-… I'm fine," she finally eked out, wiping away the blood. "It happens sometimes." She felt like that was a good move- if her parents or any of the teachers found out about any of this, they would totally freak.
Taylor looked far less than convinced, raising an eyebrow and studying Max's condition. Max herself looked down to see her clothes, not the ones she wore to the graveyard, stained with dirt, bits of grass clinging onto the fabric. She doubted her hair or any other part of her looked any better.
"Really."
"Yes, really," Max shot back.
"…Well you always were a weirdo, Max. Come on, we're late for class." Taylor actually grabbed Max's wrist to pull her along, though she let go a moment later. "Wouldn't want to miss Green's first big lecture, right?"
Max's head was still throbbing, so all she could think to do was follow meekly behind Taylor and rub at her temples. She did offer up one complaint, though.
"Green's first class is on Friday."
Taylor glanced back at her with a look- but a gentler look now, touched with concern. "Uh, it is Friday?"
Max only stared back dumbly.
Friday. She'd gone to the cemetery Wednesday night. Wednesday night.
"Are… are you sure?" she asked, while the prickling sensation of fear worked its way up her back and neck.
Taylor glanced back again with a weirded out, what-the-fuck sort of look. "...Definitely sure it's Friday, Max."
Max let the moment pass without responding, and Taylor continued on in an uneasy walk.
Assuming this wasn't the start of some insanely complicated prank- and Max was pretty sure that was way more of a hassle than it was worth to Victoria and her goons- Max lost a whole day. The whole of Thursday.
She clutched her head again, stumbling along behind Taylor as she struggled to come to terms with this. She could hardly even see.
What the hell did you do to me? she asked the voice in her head.
It actually answered, in a frantic, desperate tone. You were- you were freaking out at the cemetery. You were hysterical!
You don't have the right, Max thought back viciously. You have no right to any of this.
I didn't want us- you to get sick, Max. You have to believe me. I was taking care of you!
Bull!
Please just listen, I-
Fuck you! You're… am I-
I'm so sorry, Max- I didn't-
Am I going insane-?
I swear to god, I never wanted it to get this bad-
What the hell are you-?
But you were soaked and you weren't-
What are you doing to me-?
Weren't thinking at all-
By now Max was groaning softly to herself with the effort it took to maintain the conversation.
Shut up! Just shut up!
I'm so, so sorry…
Just…
Just tell me why you keep… hijacking my body…
Tell me who you are…
And what you want…
Max had theories. First and foremost in her mind was that all the time travel had finally dealt a truly damaging blow to her mental health, and she was now suffering from delusions or split personalities. It was probably the least of what she deserved, given how recklessly she had used her power. Former power.
Or, secondly, it could be that the voice was the evil Max she had once met, in the nightmare diner, the one that had accused her of destroying everything in exchange for Chloe. The Max from an alternate reality, which up until now was haunting her with guilt and remorse.
And the third idea, the one that Max barely ever thought about, for fear of clinging onto false hope, was that it was Chloe. Despite having Max's handwriting, having Max's voice, her mannerisms… that maybe it really was Chloe, trying to take care of her still… reaching from beyond the grave, from an afterlife Max wanted so badly to believe in, from wherever spirits stayed…
Chloe.
I'm…
I'm not her, Max…
Max shut her eyes, stumbling along behind Taylor.
"Max?" the other girl called out, grabbing Max's shoulders to steady her.
This was… my body, too. For a whole week I guess, this was mine.
I didn't know anything about rewinds, or about what happened to you.
But then you were here. You took control, and all your memories just… flooded in.
Someone was pulling Max by the shoulders, struggling to carry her weight. A high, sharp voice from a few feet away called out. "Finally! Where the hell have you been?"
"Ugh, there's something… up with her. She's acting all weird…" Taylor said from very near Max's ear.
And all your pain and anger…
I couldn't bear it for a while.
It was the other Max. Not the angry one from her nightmare, but the one who ran on autopilot whenever Max jumped through a picture.
But autopilot was starting to feel like the wrong word.
"Jesus… what's wrong with her?" came Victoria's voice. Though her vision was blurred, Max could vaguely make out Victoria's figure, hands on her hips and a disapproving frown on her face, as Taylor brought them closer.
"Vi-…" Max mumbled.
But I could see how bad things were for you. And I had to help you. I had to.
I've been trying to.
She'd signed Max up for appointments with the psychiatrist. Made faltering attempts to calm her down in moments of panic. Cheered her up in Chloe's house.
"Ugh. We don't have time for this shit," Victoria hissed. Taylor slowly let go of Max and the two girls tried to get her to stand up properly. "Get yourself together, you… weird hipster. Hello?"
"Y-yeah, Victoria, I'm-… let… let go of me," Max almost snarled at them, and the two girls recoiled as though burned. Max stumbled but managed to brace herself against a nearby wall.
The wall of their photography classroom. They were right outside. The hallway was empty except for the three of them- class would be starting soon.
Victoria waved dismissively at Max. "Fine. If you think you can manage it, get your butt in there. Now. Otherwise we're gonna have to carry you to the infirmary." She gave Max a quick once-over with judgmental eyes. "Which I am not going to do."
Go inside. You can do it. If… if you don't, the teachers and your parents will know something's wrong.
Max spent a few seconds straightening, trying to find the strength in her sore legs. She didn't bother looking at Victoria or Taylor as she brushed past them and entered the classroom.
Everyone stared at her.
Green was sitting at her desk, a pair of reading glasses on, looking at Max from above the lenses. Several classmates- Alyssa, Stella- were conversing in hushed tones as Max made her way to her seat. Kate's place was still empty. Max doubted she'd see Kate in Blackwell again.
She sat heavily on her seat as Taylor and Victoria came in, looking annoyed. They sat down, and Victoria glared at her.
Max made a feeble attempt to clean the dirt and grass off herself.
See? It's fine. We're… we're fine.
No.
No, we're not.
You need to… go. We can't keep doing this. We can't share.
The bell rang. Green stood and took off her glasses, clapping her hands together. She started talking, but Max's attention was elsewhere.
…I know. I can feel it. I can't keep this up much longer. I don't think I'll even have a choice, soon.
I'm sorry, Max. Everything I've done… I've just been trying to help you.
I- I know.
But I'm so fucking scared. What's going to happen to me? Where am I going to go?
I…
Was I always just… temporary?
"But enough with the lame introductions," Green was saying. "Let's all get to the main event."
Maybe I'm the temporary one…
I don't believe that. I don't know what to believe anymore.
That makes two of us.
"Which," Green went on, "I am a hundred percent sure you all know the results of, anyway."
Listen to her, Max.
Why?
"At least after all but one of you withdrew your entries." Green sighed.
Hello?
"I have to say it was surprising, but not actually disappointing. I understand the sentiment." Green smiled at the class. "But I did get a good look at everyone's pictures, and they're mostly great stuff, so… I don't actually mind that you painted me into this corner. The one remaining picture is, in fact, one of the best submissions."
Max?
Amidst the backdrop of her swirling emotions, Max felt the rising loneliness and guilt of being alone in her mind. Of betraying another version of herself to some unknown fate.
"So without further ado, I'd like to announce the winner of the Everyday Heroes contest- Max Caulfield!"
She looked up.
Green was smiling down at her. Several other people were smiling, too. Victoria looked on with a defiant expression, a tilt to her jaw that spoke of… pride, rather than disappointment.
Max realized that her mouth was hanging open. Green was looking at her like she expected Max to say something. "B-but I-" Max stuttered, and stopped.
Did you do this?
Did you submit a picture? Yesterday?
Everyone else had withdrawn their entries. Who would have convinced them to do that?
Victoria started to clap in a polite sort of way. And everyone else followed along.
"Max," Green said. "I know it must feel like a cheat, but your picture really was one of the top contenders to win, anyway. I don't regret this at all. I don't think anyone does."
"Uh…"
"This is a big achievement, you know." She gestured Max forward, then stooped to pick up a large square frame propped against the wall, about two feet by two feet in size. She turned it around for the whole class to see the picture, obviously an instant photo which had been blown up to a larger size:
The sky above is overcast, dark gray clouds stretching on and on into the distance. To one side is the Arcadia Bay lighthouse, only its base visible, with the rest of the tower stretching out beyond the edge of the frame. The ground underneath is wet and muddy, and small puddles have formed under what appears to be a moderate rain.
The shoulders and heads of two girls- about twelve years old, on the edge of adolescence- fill up the center of the picture, in sharper focus than the rest of the scene. They're seated on a wooden bench, its surface shiny with rainwater.
One girl, with black hair and small features, is huddled within an old, faded raincoat. She looks at the camera with a timid and subdued expression. Her eyes are red and puffy- though the rain mixes with her tears, it's obvious she's been crying. Her arm is held up and leads out of the frame; the angle suggests she's the one holding the camera.
Her head rests against the shoulder of a taller girl with strawberry blonde hair. This second girl has no protection from the downpour- her shirt is soaked, and her wet hair clings to her face in messy strands. She's sporting an ugly black eye, which mars her pale skin. And yet, her back is straight, shoulders and chin held high, and her mouth is spread in a lopsided grin. One arm is wrapped protectively around her friend, pulling her close and shielding her from the storm. The other arm pokes into the picture to give a cheerful thumbs up.
Her eyes twinkle with a childlike glee.
Max stared. She stared for what felt like whole minutes.
"Why don't you come up here and say something about it?"
She obediently rose to her feet, trying her damnedest to make sense of everything, though she felt that her mind was coming out of a heavy haze.
The other Max had taken over for a whole day, and submitted that picture. She must have found it at the Price house. Joyce must have helped her.
And when the class found out- when Victoria found out- they'd all decided to let Max win. Out of… kindness, maybe. Out of something. Something nice.
The whole room was quiet, now. Max stood there dumbly, staring at the picture. Her mind slowly pulled out the memory captured in that one moment, and the sights and sounds of it, the feel of it, came back to her. Green gestured her forward again, offering the picture for Max to take.
She'd won the contest. She was going to San Francisco- to the Zeitgeist. She was starting a career.
Chloe always said she was a great photographer…
With slow, faltering steps she made her way to the front and took the picture from Green. The teacher backed away as Max turned and faced the class, holding the frame in shaking hands.
She took a deep breath. And another.
The words and thoughts came so slowly.
She started with a faltering voice.
"…I took this when we were twelve." But she stopped and stared at the class.
Say what you want to say. Don't talk about shutter speed and composition. Say what you feel, the voice said, shaking with emotion and strain. Forget about what they think. Say what you feel.
Max cleared her throat and started again. "I didn't… know what 'Everyday Hero' meant. I've had to think about it a lot, recently…
"I used to guess that being a hero meant doing something… out of the ordinary. Like doctors or soldiers, or… or even great parents.
"I thought it only ever meant taking care of people, and going beyond… Doing more.
"But… but Chloe wasn't like that. After her dad died, and I moved away, and her best friend… disappeared… she was angry, and selfish, and… lonely. She just did so much less than her best.
"Life beat her down again and again, into a… a bitter person."
Max gulped. She felt her eyes watering, and struggled to not cry in front of everyone. They were all staring at her with a quiet sort of intensity.
"But she was- is my hero.
"Because despite everything, I could see… flashes of who she used to be. Moments when the little girl would shine through. When she wasn't what life made her into, but… she was…"
Hella good.
Max smiled. "Hella good. Enough to push back against all the bad things that had happened to her and… and want to be better.
"And to tell herself, My friends deserve better. My family deserves better.
"Just a little bit at a time… she was working her way out of all the… tragedy of her life. And it was so hard for her.
"She had to struggle. She had to give herself up, and be selfless… And remember how much she cared about other people."
Max tried to find the right words. This was important- she wanted to get it just right. For Chloe's sake.
"She wasn't different from any of us. She was just… an everyday person. And life was so… hard on her.
"But when it really mattered… she tried to be better than who she was. Better than what life made her.
"And I… I hope that… I can live up to that, someday."
You already are.
The voice was so soft now. So distant.
I'm leaving. I can't stay.
Neither of us know where I'm going… and I'm so scared. I'm so scared.
But if I do end up somewhere… I swear to God I'll find Chloe.
I'll find her.
So she won't be alone again. She'll have her best friend.
Her partner.
Max wiped her eyes.
Tell her I miss her, so much.
Be pirates with her again. Take over the world.
Give her all our love.