Eleven: In My End Is My Beginning

It took two hours to get the truck cleaned up–locating a portable vacuum for the glass and duct tape and plastic wrap for the window. After that Chloe knew she couldn't put it off any longer–she had to track down David. At least if she wanted to avoid Max freaking. After the near-meltdown Max had had in Seattle, the whole withdrawing into her photography until she was almost walking into traffic, Chloe was doing her best to be careful with Max. Even if careful wasn't her thing. Not by a longshot.

Chloe's could practically feel her blood pressure rising the second they caught up to David. Even with Blackwell shut down for repairs, he still had his job, prowling around and making sure no one trashed the place any worse. This afternoon he was on the side lot of the main building, keeping a hawk-like guard on the obviously dangerous technician from the power company who was on the top of a ladder, working on the transformer closest to the school. Even the way he was standing there bugged the fuck out of her, with his arms crossed and trying to look intimidating in that weak-ass security uniform.

David sighed as she spotted them coming his way. "Can this wait? I'm working, Chloe."

"This is serious," Max was saying. She was standing right next to her, but her words sounded distant over the pounding blood in her temples. "We need to–"

"I stole your gun." Chloe blurted it out and stared him down, arms crossed, defiant. "Last month, before the storm."

David stared at her, but his stunned expression quickly morphed into a bulldog snarl. "Goddammit! I knew it was you." Standing next to her, Max grabbed Chloe's arm, squeezing tight. David's hands were clenched and she half expected him to slap her again, to prove he really was the nasty sack of shit she'd always believed he was, before he'd saved Max, before he'd arrested Jefferson. I dare you, asshole! Do it! "I don't know where you think you get off pulling shit like this but–"

Max stepped between them. "Please, David, let Chloe finish. This is important."

Something between a growl and a sigh tore out of his throat. "Why did you do it? A firearm isn't a goddam toy."

She stepped forward, up in his face. "Because Nathan Prescott pulled a gun on on me. Because he doped me up and tried to pull the same shit on me he did with Rachel."

He looked like he might throw up all over his own boots. "Oh God. Why didn't you tell us? You could've been killed."

She was going to say 'Well I wasn't', but when she glanced over, she found Max looking pale, like she'd seen a ghost... like she was seeing one right now. So Chloe went, instead, with "Well I'm still here, aren't I?" And then, before he could start up again, "Look that's not the point."

"Oh there's a point to this? Besides proving how irresspon–"

"Someone broke into my truck and stole it."

David huffed into his mustache. "Why would anyone steal that deathtrap?"

Chloe rolled her eyes. "No not the truck. The gun, they stole the fucking gun."

The colour that had drained from his face moments ago returned and she wondered if his head might explode in a gloriously gory mess. Her lips might have twitched at the thought. "This isn't a joke, missy," he snarled at her. "Who knew you had that gun?"

She held out her hands, palms up. "Just Max." She turned to Max. "Max, did break into my truck and steal the gun?"

"No! Of course not," Max said, looking horrified.

"Guess we're out of suspects then." She spun on David. "Maybe you can use your black ops surveillance shit to track down some actual suspects."

A metallic clinking drew their attention and all three of them looked to the ladder where the power technician was making his way down from the electric pole. The technician gave nod in David's direction. "It's looking good. Power should be back by tomorrow."

The three of them stood in silence as he packed up his ladder and gear and returned to his van. David waited till he was gone before speaking again. "I'll see what I can out about your truck."

"Great," Chloe said, voice dripping with sarcasm. Max had gotten her way; she should be happy anyway.

"Thank you, David," Max said and the gratitude in her voice grated on Chloe's nerves. She hated having to be grateful to David. And she did have to because he'd saved Max. But that didn't mean he wasn't a total dick.

He turned his scowl to Chloe and she faced him head on. "We're going to have a trailer soon. How are we supposed to have you under our roof if we can't trust you?"

She almost laughed. "Don't worry about that. I am never going to live under your roof again."

He let out a long, exasperated breath. "Right now you don't even have a roof."

Pressed up against her shoulder, Max gripped her arm, her whole body tense. Whatever happened, she was staying with Max. Fuck FEMA's handout trailer. "I'd rather stay in the tent anyway."

"I don't know what you two girls have been up, but to if you think–"

"Oh there it is! Come on," Chloe said, throwing her arms wide, "just go ahead and say it. You don't like that your stepdaughter is a dy–"

"I never said that. Don't you put words in my mouth."

She rolled her eyes. "Oh please. You're all about the 'don't ask, don't tell' bullshit."

"Chloe," Max hissed, tugging at her.

Why wasn't Max backing her up on this? They were dating–she should be defending their honour or something. Where was the Max who'd confronted David about his video cameras and about harassing Kate Marsh? Instead she was stuck with the Max who needed to grow a pair.

"This isn't about who you're dating. It's about you taking responsibility for once in your life."

She could have laughed. She'd been ready to fucking die for this shithole town–because in that moment she'd truly believed it was what was meant to be, that she'd been meant to die and that her death would fix everything. She'd been willing to do it. What did he know about responsibility?

Chloe tugged herself free of Max and turned back towards the parking lot.

"Chloe–" But that was as far as she let her get.

"I need some space, Max."

Chloe stomped back to her truck. She didn't look back.

#

Chloe paced the cliff's edge like a caged tiger, phone pressed to her ear as it rang and rang. A bit of sunshine had started to poke through the clouds, bright on the remains of the lighthouse, but that wasn't enough to lighten her mood. Yesterday had been a good day. Today was total shit.

Finally, finally, just before the voicemail kicked in, Joyce picked up. "Chloe–"

"Mom, I need you to find Max. Right now. She's probably in the tent." And possibly passed out on the floor with that creepy photo clutched in her hand. Chloe felt a twinge, remembering how she'd brushed her off. She'd just needed to get off on her own and think. But Max... Max was so stressed out over everything that had happened and all this new shit that was happening, and she wasn't a hundred percent sure Max could deal. So she was either, really upset and her phone was dead... or she was unconscious.

"Why? What's wrong?" Joyce sounded alarmed. Everyone was like this lately. After everything that had happened it was hard not to go automatically into panic mode at the least hint of trouble.

"I've been trying to call her. I think her phone's dead."

"Did you two have a fight?"

"Not exactly." Chloe groaned. "Look that's not important right now. Can you just... see if she's there?"

"All right, honey. Just hold on."

She kept pacing as she waited. The phone was hot against her ear, but the rest of her face felt chilled by the breeze. Reaching into her jacket, she pulled the scarf up to her nose and breathed in the scent of Max's skin. Below, the crash of ocean waves beat out an unflinching rhythm on the shore. Just a matter of weeks ago, there would have been a small fleet of fishing boats out on the water, desperately trying to find the schools of fish that had once come to feed in the bay. There were no more boats. And there was no longer a lighthouse to guide them.

Responsibility. What did David know about it? It was all just more bullshit. Look at Max. She was taking responsibility for things that weren't her fault. She hadn't caused the storm any more than she'd caused her powers. She'd even had a vision of the storm before she'd found out she had powers so how could she have been the cause? But she'd made a decision and she carried the weight of it around like an anchor, one that kept her moored to Arcadia Bay. It was all just so fucked up.

Finally she heard her mom's voice on the phone. "Max, are you in there?" A pause was followed by a lot of shuffling, which Chloe imagined was from Joyce clambering into the tent. The sound was a bit muffled, but she was certain she heard her mom asking Max if she was all right. Fuck.

Please be okay. Please be awake. Shit, Max, you have to be okay.

"I'm fine. Is something wrong?" Relief swelled through her as the sound of Max's voice came through faintly over the line.

"There's someone who wants to talk to you." A pause and then Joyce's voice sounded even more distant. "I'll just wait outside."

"Hello?" Max said uncertainly.

"Dude, I've been trying to call you for twenty minutes."

"Chloe." The relief in her voice made Chloe wince. So did the sniffle she heard over the line.

"Twenty minutes," she repeated.

"What do you mean? I didn't hear the phone."

"We didn't get to Warren's, remember? Betting your phone's dead."

A pause. Shuffling. And then, "You're right." Max groaned. "I feel like such a dumbass. I was so worried."

"I just went for a drive. And then I tried to call you and it went to voicemail. I left like... three messages. And I texted. And then I started writing a letter."

Max laughed. "You did not."

"Okay not the last one. But I totally blew up your phone before I realized you weren't just ignoring me." She decided not to mention her own worry about the photo, about finding Max passed out again. Maximus has enough to worry about without worrying about me worrying. Damn that was confusing.

"I would never ignore you, Chloe." Chloe licked her lips, trying to think of the right followup to that. Nothing came. Finally, Max spoke again. "Where are you?"

"At the lighthouse. I can almost see the tent from here."

"Why the lighthouse?"

Good question. It did seem a bit masochistic when she could see the path of the storm front his vantage point. The time-twister had left a half-mile-wide tire track on the town, leaving behind demolished buildings and piles of debris. And then there was the lighthouse itself, only a broken shell now. But Chloe could relate. It was broken just the way she was, just the way the town was. And maybe just the way Max was.

"I dunno," she said finally. "I guess... because, in a way, this is where it all started for me. It's where you told me about the storm. And it's where that whole clusterfuck ended too." And where we started.

"In my beginning is my end. In my end is my beginning."

"What is that?"

"It's from a poem," Max said. "And no, not a beat poet. My ninth grade English teacher used to write a random poetry quote every day on the board."

A sudden gust made Chloe press her palm against the top of her head to keep her cap in place. It whistled through the exposed lighthouse stairwell like the building was whispering to her. They had chosen this. But would the alternative really have been any better? Sometimes both outcomes were equally bad–like what Max had told Chloe about trying to save her dad: either way Chloe got a shit deal.

"I'm freezing my ass off up here," Chloe said finally. "I'm going to head back."

"Okay. I'll give Joyce her phone back."

"Max?"

"Hm?"

"I'm not going to just drive off and ditch you just because I'm pissed off about something. Seriously, you need to chillax."

"I know, it's just..."

"I'll always be with you, Max." It felt strange to say it again here without Max next to her.

"Chloe..."

She wanted so badly to be there, telling her that in person, not just to her cell phone. "Listen, I'm going to get back in the truck and be there in a few and make out with you until you can't remember your own name. And then we can go get coffee and charge your phone. How does that sound?"

A chuckle. "That sounds good. I told Kate I'd call her this afternoon. I'll need a working phone."

"Okay. Love you, Mad Max. Be there soon."