Disclaimer: Anything familiar to you, I do not own. This is entirely a work of fan fiction for personal amusement and fulfillment. I make nothing from this and own none of it.
Note: A friendly warning. This chapter contains descriptions of acts of violence and a brief if detailed description of the results. As with most of the story so far, themes of mental health and emotional stability are dominant in portions. I would advise readers to proceed carefully and take a break when and if they think they need it while reading. I hate to say it, but this is still on the fairly lighter end of what is possible here and as of this chapter we've officially gone down the rabbit hole.
Chapter Five: Aristeia the First
"I want to know what the hell is going on," Chloe said .She let her eyes drift past Frank, who once more refused to respond to Max. The girl had been relatively quiet since climbing into the RV but there was no hiding some mix of anticipation and anxiety in her face. There was also no hiding the way her hands shook. Must make taking pictures a bitch, Chloe thought. The inane observation passed and at Frank's continued silence she almost lost her cool. Max reached out to her. "What?"
"Take this," Max said, holding out her small MP3 player. "You need it more than I do right now." I doubt that, Chloe wanted to respond. Your voice is shaking worse than your hands.
"It's alright," Chloe said, "I mean, no offense, but our tastes in music might be a bit apart." Max shook her head and held up the music player so Chloe could small screen, which looked to be loading something titled 'playlist 2.'
"Just trust me on this one," Max said. "Besides, whatever's about to happen one of us needs to be calmed the fuck down and it's not gonna be me." Why does that feel like a lie? Chloe took the music player anyway and, seeing that she was getting nothing from Frank and only irritation from Max, she stood and carefully made her way to a seat back in the "kitchen." Strangely unable to look away from the filthy dishes in the sink, (it's like roadkill, you shouldn't look but you just do) Chloe slipped the earbuds into place. It took a second for her to find the play button but the first song launched immediately into fairly hard hitting drums and a guitarist absolutely shredding. It was far closer to her type of music than she would have expected out of Max. Killswitch, she mused. That kind of makes sense. Squinting down at the screen, she found herself wishing it was backlit as the back of the RV was a little darker. Eventually she snorted despite herself. Of all of their songs, 'This Fire Burns.'
Shaking her head, Chloe leaned back in the seat and closed her eyes. For a moment there was no change but after several seconds she found herself far less upset with Frank and more pissed at anyone who stood between her and Sera. That's right, she told herself. That's right, I made a fucking promise. I've got this. We've got this. Grinning despite herself as the song changed, Chloe decided to get down to business. So, I find this woman, I tell her Rachel wants to talk to her. If she really wants to meet Rachel, well that should be enough to get her to listen and wait. After that, it's all about Rachel finding a way out to the fucking mill. There's nothing I can do about that now. So the next question is, what's waiting for us there? Frank is freaked.
As if he could hear her thoughts, up at the front of the RV, Frank slammed on the brakes. Chloe grabbed quickly to the edge of the table as the RV slowed down significantly. Once her balance was assured she jerked the earphones out of her ears. There were voices loud enough she was sure Frank was yelling at a driver who had cut them off or something. She didn't bother to turn around, just cocked her head to one side and listened with the music pumping into the other. Pretty quickly it became evident that Frank was not yelling at anyone outside of the RV. Slowly and carefully, she turned her head around just enough to watch from the corner of her eye.
"You're a piece of fucking work, you know that, kid? I'm doing enough al- I'm risking my fucking life here."
"Yeah? Chloe's done it a couple times over now, how's it feel to be a bigger bitch than a couple of teenage girls?" Max staring across the way at Frank with Pompidou curled up in her lap, his head perked up at the noise. Holy shit, Max. It wasn't quite possible to make out her expression but with the tone of voice Chloe had to assume she was glaring daggers at him.
"You just shut the fuck up and let me drive, alright? You're here because you're with Price. Don't make me think this is all more trouble than it's worth!" Max shook her head and for a second instead of responding, stared straight down at the dog in her lap. Chloe wanted to get a better look at the situation but the one thing she was sure of, inherently, deep down in her stomach, was that she was not supposed to be hearing any of this. Did Max actually hand me this thing to make sure I wouldn't be able to listen in? Or am I just being paranoid about her right now? She felt instantly that the thought was pretty shitty, given that Max was doing all of this just to help and was clearly fucking terrified of something.
"Listen, Frank. I want to know what to expect because it's my job to look out for her. Not yours. You need to look out for yourself. I get that, I get that better than you think." Chloe swallowed and strained to hear Frank. Carefully she pressed pause on the mp3 player and turned more completely away from them both. "When shit hits the fan, you'll need to look out for yourself. I don't. I only need to look out for Chloe." That makes no sense, Chloe thought.
"What do you actually think you can do against Damon? He's going to be there waiting you know and if you think he was pissed before you haven't seen anything yet." Fuck. Damon Merrick is going to be waiting for us? What is Frank doing, walking us into a trap? Why tell her, then?
"Everything I need to handle that, I've already got and if all else fails, I have no problem stepping up to home plate again." Frank made a noise that sounded like the abandoned lovechild of a groan, a growl and a sigh. She's so cavalier about that kind of thing but I was there. I saw her after Frank left. She almost lost her shit. "Seriously, if he so much as touches her, I don't care. I'll do whatever I have to. You've got a really nice looking bat back there. Use that to collect from the kids at Blackwell?" Frank grunted. "No, I bet you have other people do that for you. That's the difference here. I'll do whatever I fucking have to. I don't care, at this point. So work with me. Tell me what to expect."
"You know, I can't decide if you're full of shit or actually fuck-crazy." Max laughed and Chloe shivered, beginning to feel a little sick to her stomach.
"What's waiting on us at the old mill?"
"Damon's going to kill Sera. Very soon." Okay, yeah, I think I need to puke. Careful not to move much, Chloe breathed slowly through her nose. She turned her head to look straight at them, the silent earbuds leading down to a paused player. When Max prompted him to go on, Frank did. "I think he's being pressured." And who has the power to pressure Damon Merrick. Chloe blinked and as the realization hit her, she closed her throat tight against the urge to gag. Who has the power to pressure Damon Merrick and wants to get rid of Sera? There was only one one answer to that question which made any sense. Chloe turned away again, pressing one hand to her mouth.
"When we get there, go ahead and go in like he'd expect. I'll handle the rest of it." Chloe could hear the pressure shift in the seat and then the tiny clicking of the puppy's nails against the floor as he jumped down. A quick glance showed that Max was curled in on herself in that way she so often sat when upset. Frank's silence broke when she buried her face against her knees. Chloe didn't try to go to her and help: she knew if she moved, she was going to be ill.
"Why the fuck are you like this?" Frank asked. "What are you going to do when talking about this shit does this to you
? You talk a big game kid, but face reality here. You caught him off guard last time. He's going to be pissed this time." Chloe wanted answers to most of those questions but nothing was forthcoming. The RV shuddered as Frank turned a corner and drove off of cement and onto dirt. "It's because of Price, isn't it?" A strange voice in the back of Chloe's head, the one that had whispered an echo of an idea into her mind the day before rose up and quieted Chloe's thoughts. Holding her breath, Chloe waited.
"Yes," Max answered, tone devoid of all emotion. "Damn right. I'm going to be around from now on." The sound of Max's seat turning made Chloe look determinedly down at the table. "That means no matter what's going on, she and her friends are off limits. This is important to Rachel which means it's important to Chloe. That means it's important to me. We're going to do it, no matter what and I can think about these kinds of things." Chloe dared to glance back.
"Kid, you don't have a damn sense of- of self-preservation or whatever, do you?" Max sat straight up, looking Frank in the face until he turned his head and matched eyes with her.
"No, I don't." Sometimes, when people she knew well spoke, she could get an idea as to how genuine they were being, how truthful. Some people could be read like books and others couldn't. Since coming back to Arcadia Bay, Max Caulfield had been one of those people who just couldn't. She was confusing and self-contradicting, a total mess of nerves and confusion one second and willing to jump a drug dealer in a junkyard the next. For the first time since she looked Max in the eyes two nights ago, Chloe heard and recognized absolute truth from her mouth and it was almost enough to disgust her.
"You're making me doubt this choice, kid."
"The name's Max," she told Frank. "Not kid. I'm getting tired of that. You get us there and I'll handle the rest of it." As Frank replied with his refrain of "Crazy fucker," a dam broke and Chloe stood, hand pressed to her mouth and hurried to the bathroom. She managed to mostly shut the door before her meal from the diner made a sudden, burning reappearance which made her eyes water.
"Ah what the hell?" Frank called from the front. Chloe ignored him, retching again. She was rewarded with a minute of relative silence before the RV pulled to a stop. Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit. The RV remained quiet as the engine shut off and that sound was only disturbed by the door opening and shutting. The door to the bathroom, on the other hand, received a soft knock a few seconds later. Chloe looked once into the cracked mirror above the sink, flushed the toilet and turned to open the door.
"MP3 player?" Max asked, holding out her hand. Finding herself, for once, the one not able to match Max's eyes, Chloe handed the device over, forgetting to press play to make it look as if she had been listening. The jig was up anyway, it seemed because once Max had it back she reached out and tilted Chloe's head up, forcing her to match the photographer's gaze. Max's eyes weren't dead, but they were like a solid wall of stone: cold and unforgiving as death. "You were a lot better of an actress last night." Holy shit, was that really only last night? Chloe asked herself, unable to even pretend to be embarrassed at being called out.
"What the hell was any of that about?" Chloe asked Max as she turned and marched toward the front of the RV. Pausing for a second to scratch Pompidou behind the ears, Max picked up her bag, staring out of the windshield at the burnt ruins of the Mill.
"Don't worry about that," Max told her, trying to sound a little more relaxed and failing. She had returned to a shaking voice, one which had been conspicuously absent when she was pissed at Frank. "I just figured Frank needed to be handled a certain way. So I did my best to handle him."
"There was more than that going on," Chloe insisted. Max loosed a small wire from her bag. Instead of answering at first she hooked one end of it into the MP3 player. "Why do I feel like that's the first time I've heard your voice since you came back? Why does that fuckin' scare me?"
"You're just a little fucked up by everything going on," Max told her. "So am I. I really really want a beer." Chloe could agree that that was possible and she could even agree that a beer might not be the worst thing in the world. "Or a smoke. No time though."
"No time?" Chloe asked as Max plugged the other end of the line into a small device and hung it from Frank's rear view mirror. Max began to fiddle with the radio in front of her. The station she set it on was silent, devoid even of static, which made no sense until Chloe realized that the little device hanging from the mirror sent her music over a radio channel. "But there's time to rock out?"
"No," Max told her, next playing with the music player. "I keep a small folder of sound effect loops on here to…" Max glanced up, laughed and then glanced back down. "To fuck with people." Chloe watched in irritation as Max turned the dial on Frank's volume up all the way. She's gonna blow out his excessive "Look At The Size of My Dick" speaker system. "Okay," Max finally said, standing up. "Let's go."
"What are you doing?" Chloe asked as Max pushed past her, ducking low. The girl looked once around the RV and then her eyes landed on a baseball bat beside the door. With a smile that threatened to make Chloe ill all over again, Max grabbed it and opened the door to the RV.
"We've got like, two minutes to get into position." When Chloe asked her what was happening, what that meant, Max just lead the way out of the RV. Chloe was beginning to become irritated but shen followed anyway. What little foliage there used to be around the mill was burned away. The building itself was basically a blackened husk. The door Max lead her to was mostly still in tact, but parts of the roof were missing or, presumably collapsed and in other sections the wall was down to beams. Is this how fires normally work? Momentarily distracted, she did not think to wonder when Max raised a finger to her lips as they entered.
"Toward the stage," she told Chloe. Feeling a bit bitter about it, Chloe started to take the lead. It was, apparently, unnecessary.
"How do you know where the stage is?" Chloe whispered, insistently as Max held her finger to her lips and began, painfully slowly, to walk toward the doorway separating the bar from the stage. A booming voice echoed from the other room, angry. The end of the bat Max was carrying lowered softly to the ground.
"No, you listen here you stupid, self-righteous fuck!" Chloe shook her head. Damon Merrick is pissed. "I did everything on my end. I got the bitch, I shot her up with the drouge du jour and now I can make her disappear for you. But you're going to keep up your end of the bargain. I want to see a photo of the cash. I want to see you burn the evidence and I want a mother fucking name." There was a pause, during which Max slowed even more and Chloe slowed to match her pace. "That so, Amber? Because I'll be honest with you. I would just as happily leave her body outside the police station as make it disappear. Boy would people start asking questions then!" Another pause. Max inhaled once and passed across the doorway between the two rooms, pressing herself to one side and gesturing to the other. "Alright then, I'll be awaiting your correspondence, asshole."
Chloe exhaled slowly, trying to hear everything going on one room away over the sound of her heartbeat and finding it difficult. Okay, okay, focus Chloe. Think about what's happening here. She pressed her shoulder carefully against splintered and charred boards. You're at the Mill with Frank and Max. Sera is in that room and she's about to be killed, Rachel's on her way and you- you what? In another situation Chloe would want to shake Max and make her tell her what the plan was. As it was, though, she had none of her own and no room to complain. There are way too many questions. I need to tune this shit out. We have to rescue Sera and get out of her in enough time to warn Rachel off. Because, fuck this.
Frank and Damon started to talk but as soon as she heard their voices they were drowned out. This time, the culprit was not her racing heart but the sound of sirens in the distance. Sirens which were getting rapidly louder. Oh shit, Chloe thought. There weren't a ton of reasonable excuses she could come up with to give the police for their presence there. When Chloe matched eyes with Max and saw a mischievous smile blooming, she understood precisely what Max had been up to with Frank's stereo system.
"Son of a bitch!" Damon's rage radiated through the room as Chloe could imagine firing having done hours ago. Wait a second, what happened to that fire? Why isn't this place gone? She shook her head. Misinterpreting it, Max held up one hand, placatingly. "Go take a look." Only a couple of seconds passed and the bill of Frank's hat came into view, followed by the man himself. Wide eyes met with Chloe's own and then with Max's, before he stepped through the doorway. For a moment, the three looked at one another. Chloe felt her own bewilderment echoed in Frank's eyes. Max was simply grinning, and made a "come on," kind of gesture in Frank's direction.
"Damon, you need to see this shit," Frank called, stepping clear of the doorway. Chloe and Frank understood what Max, the youngest and smallest of the three of them was planning at the same time, judging by their simultaneous looks of utter horror. Oh god, this is like some sort of slapstick cartoon shit. Chloe stepped back from the doorway,intent on convincing Max to run, but it was too late. Damon was in fairly good condition, despite having taken a bat to the skull only a couple of hours before. He moved fast. That meant that when he passed through the doorway at a run, he had no time to react. The immediate effect was satisfying and utterly gruesome.
Bolting headfirst into a swinging baseball bat apparently had its downsides. Chloe felt the blood splatter on her face and across her shirt, but could not in the moment stop herself from watching the way his head turned with the force of the blow, the way his nose and jaw shattered or his eyes rolled up into his head as he collapsed to the floor. Dude, that one could have actually killed him. She looked up at Max and instead of the look of terror she might have been wearing herself or that horrible satisfaction from that morning, Max's face was contorted in concentration as she tried to make her shaking hands loose a bandana of some sort from her sweatshirt's pouch. While Chloe stared down at Damon, who did not move, Max wiped the baseball bat's handle down as it leaned against her.
She's actually wiping away fingerprints. Holy shit.
"God damn it, kid!" Frank yelled s the moment passed. "I mean, for fuck's sake!" The sirens continued to blare. Chloe could not speak, but she also couldn't tear her eyes away from Damon Merrick's shattered face or the blood that was beginning to pool beneath it. Unbidden, the urge to joke about how sporty Max had gotten came and it felt so out of place, so improper that Chloe laughed once or twice, nervously, unable to stay still and stable. The sirens dulled and went silent as Max dropped the bloodstained bat to the ground.
"It's what had to happen," Max told them both, emphatically. "He's going to be eating his dinner through a straw for a while but he's alive, she's alive and we're alive."
"Are you, are you fucking sure?" Chloe asked. "That he's alive?" She didn't want to reach down and check, somehow the thought was disgusting and violating. Instead of answering, Max stepped over his body and hurried through the doorway. Chloe followed after a second. The room no longer looked as large as it had three nights ago, full of people. The stage had mostly collapsed, rather like the stairs to the second level back in the entrance. Right in front of it, though, tied with greying ragged ropes to an old wooden chair was Sera. She hung limp and Damon had clearly struck her in the head himself, judging from the blood running down her cheek from a wound. It was still easy to recognize the woman and more than that it was easier to see Rachel in her now. Oh, fuck, Rachel!
Chloe dug her phone out as she rushed across the floor. It took a second, but she managed to text Rachel to stop, to not come to the mill before she pocketed her phone and knelt opposite of Max beside Sera. The woman didn't respond to either girl's attempts to wake her. Looking up at Frank, she couldn't help but hope he knew what to do. Frank approached them, dragging Damon's unconscious body with him. Hanging from his left hand was a familiar knife, the one Damon had drawn on Rachel hours before.
"Take this, cut her lose," Max reached for the knife but Frank drew his hand back and gestured emphatically toward Chloe. Chloe took it and watched as Frank dropped Damon back to the ground, not bothering to lower him. As Chloe worked the blade against the bindings around Sera's arms, Max pressed her back into the chair so she would not fall. The woman mumbled something but her eyes did not open. "You, - Max. Take these." Chloe looked up, halfway through cutting the ropes around Sera's ankles. Max reached out and Frank passed her, of all things, the keys to his RV.
"What- why?" Chloe asked him. Frank gestured vaguely to Sera.
"You get her into the RV, you two get away from here now."
"You-then what are you going to do?" Chloe finished cutting the rope and Sera slumped more completely against Max, who was struggling to transfer the woman's weight to her shoulders.
"Just leave the RV somewhere out of the way, like that fucking junkyard of yours." Frank turned to look down at Damon Merrick. "Price drives and you, you psycho bitch, you remember to feed my dog or so help me God you'll need that fucking bat."
"Aye sir," Max replied, sarcastically. "Chloe, a hand?" Realizing she had not yet moved, Chloe did as she was told and rose, putting one of Sera's arms around her shoulder and grabbing the woman by the waist as she tried to lift her up. "Fuck it," Max finally said. "Gonna need help." With a groan, Frank approached and nudged Max insistently out of the way. Between Chloe and Frank it was actually fairly easy going to get Sera out of the building. Carrying her up the steps into the RV and through to the bedroom at the back was more difficult than expected but Max being there to open the doors for them was moderately beneficial. Sera was dumped unceremoniously onto the bed. Frank was halfway out of the bedroom when Max reached past Chloe and grabbed his arm.
"Wait," Frank spun around, angry. "No, just listen. This is what I meant about looking out for yourself." Chloe glanced at Max. It was hard to read her face, hard to read her emotions. She was a jumble of all of them. Or is that me?
"What are you talking about, asshole?"
"I can make it look like we knocked you out, too. You and your boss can stay buddies and everyone lives." Lives? What is she talking about. Chloe turned back to Frank, whose face hardened.
"No fuckin' thanks, I know how you rough people up. Besides, do you think you could actually do it in cold blood to someone who has isn't hurting you?" Max shrugged, then shook her head and then shrugged again.
"Who cares? This is better than what you're planning." When Frank did not respond, instead jerking his arm from her grasp, Chloe became even more confused. Still, Sera did not wake up. "Don't look at me like you think I'm stupid. I know what you're planning next. It doesn't have to be like that. You don't have to."
"Yes," Frank said. "Yeah I fucking do. You put me in this situation." He turned next to Chloe. "Both of you, and your little friend. Now I have to do what needs to be done because no one else here has the balls or lady balls to get it done." Confusion began to lessen.
"You can come with us, confess everything you've done to the cops, cooperate with them, tell them about Mr. Amber and get a reduced sentence. Or we could do what Max said: we can make it look like we knocked you out." Frank shook his head again, but Chloe now knew the score.
"Please?" Max asked, and it sounded near to begging.
"Why the hell do you care, anyway?" Frank asked her. "You would have brained me just a couple hours ago."
"Yeah," Max agreed. "But you thought you could put your hands on her. That was the wrong decision." Max seemed to be trying to joke but Frank shook his head. "It's like you said, it'll be my fault. I don't want it on my conscious." Has she even considered that it'll be mine? Have either of them? I'm the reason both of them got wrapped up in all of this. Chloe didn't know whether to feel angry or guilty, all she knew was that her phone was ringing insistently in her left hand.
"Yeah, no. I was wrong. It won't be on you. This is between me and Damon." With that Frank left the back room and then the RV, with Max in hot pursuit. Following, Chloe reached out and stopped her just before the RV's door could shut in her face. The phone continued to vibrate. The things Max said to her, to Frank, to the door over the next few seconds, Chloe would probably not repeat for the length of her entire life, but the general gist of the situation was clearly that Max was angry that no one could 'just fucking think.' Chloe's phone was ringing again when Max calmed down enough to pass her the keys. Chloe took them and lowered herself into the driver's seat when she finally answered the phone.
"What the fuck is going on?" Rachel asked, by way of saying 'hello.' Chloe wanted to answer her, wanted to respond but no words came. She sat there long enough that Rachel started to call her name. Slowly, and with a softness that her rage just seconds ago might have made seem impossible, Max reached out from the passenger seat and pressed her hand against Chloe's. Chloe turned, with Rachel's panicked voice in her ear and felt that soft voice in the back of her head speak again.
I knew it, it warned her. It's true. There was a certain tenderness for just a second in Max's eyes, unlike her so far since her return. It was one Chloe had seen before in her mother's eyes when she looked at her father. A stranger and shakier, more fiery look had passed across Rachel's face the last time Chloe saw her. It was, somehow, the most terrifying thing she had seen or heard all day. Max took the phone from her hand.
"Rachel?" Max said. "This is Max. Chloe's okay. We've got your mother and right now, Chloe is going to start the RV and drive us to the junkyard to meet you." Chloe could no longer hear Rachel's voice clearly but she still heard panic. "Yes, we have her and we have Frank's RV. She's been hurt but I think she's alright, just unconscious. Chloe is fine, just a little shell shocked, but she's going to start the RV right now and get us out of here." Chloe shook her head at the warm, coaxing tone, surprised that it brought her back to her senses. It took no time at all to figure out which of the four keys on Frank's keyring was large enough to fit in the vehicle's ignition. Chloe put the vehicle into reverse.
"Okay," Max told Rachel, "I'm going to give you back to Chloe, now." That same, coaxing, calming 'everything is fine' voice, again. Chloe wasn't sure but she might have preferred to hear Damon Merrick roaring with rage. She slammed the gas.
The Mill was blackened dirt, charred timber and twisted, rusty sheet metal. It was so different than the greenery, live trees and relative life that surrounded and even invaded the junkyard when Chloe pulled into it. It was so strange to imagine that other place, the one of violence and destruction so close to this one, which she could not help but associate with hope, with warmth. Chloe did not respond at first when Max asked if they were at their destination. Instead she looked at the form rising to its feet in the back of the old pick-up left near the entrance and felt relief as she watched Rachel leap from the bed of the truck.
"Chloe, are we there?"
"Yes," she finally called back, shaking her head hard to make herself focus.
"Good, because someone's awake and pissed off and isn't listening to me." A loud, discordant, 'fuck you!' sounded in response. "No," Max said from the back. "Merrick clocked you pretty hard, just stay calm. We got you out of there." Chloe heard the woman say something in response but she found she couldn't give a fuck as she got out of the seat and hurried to the door of the RV. Rachel was waiting at it when she opened it and she rushed quickly up the steps between them to embrace Chloe. Chloe hugged her back, an instinctual response, grasping, seizing desperately on Rachel, a lifeline, a piece of reason in the middle of chaos. The girl's jacket shifted and came halfway off. Chloe could not help but be reminded of Max's embrace that morning, though now she was on the other side.
"She's in the back," Chloe told Rachel, who finally released her. Chloe stepped aside. "Sera," she called, "Rachel's coming." The girl, after discarding the leather jacket, was past her in a second and Chloe followed her as she threw open the door to the bedroom. Sera sat against the back wall, a hand to her forehead as Max moved back from the bed with a blood-soaked bundle of cloth, to give Rachel room. For a moment, Rachel stood frozen on the verge as the older woman tried to focus on her, clearly dazed. Knowing that it was what she would want from Rachel if she were in her shoes, Chloe gave the girl a nudge.
"Holy shit," Sera managed before she sagged back against the wall and loosed some sort of laughing sob. Chloe almost wanted to mirror it.
Holy shit is right, Chloe thought, looking down at the blood down her front before raising her head to try to read Rachel's twisting face. What now?
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