Disclaimer: Anything familiar to you, I don't own. This is a work of fanfiction for personal amusement, fulfillment and a bit of self-therapy. I make nothing from any of it.
Chapter Thirty-Eight: Wisdom of Metis
September 18th, 2011 5:17 PM
"George was nice," Rachel tried. This was about her fifth attempt to get a response out of Chloe that was more complex than, 'Yeah, sure.' This had been a rollercoaster of a day, one which had started in Los Angeles and, frankly, which felt like little more than an extension of the one before it. Even still, if after everything that all three of them had gone through, if even after she and Max were fit to drop they still thought that this was the best idea, the best way for the three of them to spend their time, Chloe really should have been able to pull it together and consider the idea without this attitude. She's just tired, Rachel told herself. We're all tired. If you weren't you'd understand why she's so pissy about the idea. David and Joyce Madsen's house appeared just on the edge of Rachel's vision. She rubbed at her eyes hard, mostly to try to give herself a chance to focus on the building and search for a sign that David's vehicle was outside of it.
"Look," Max said, when Chloe didn't respond. "Chloe, you're not happy. I get it, but this is the smart choice."
"I'm barely fucking thinking straight," Chloe told them. "I don't like walking the two of you into that house and I never wanted to go back there again."
"Again," Rachel shot back, "are there things in your old bedroom you still want?" Chloe's response was a lone grunt and then to lean forward slightly, hunching over the wheel. "Then think of this like tearing off a bandaid. It's hanging on by one or two hairs now and it really sucks. Just pull it off."
"You know," Chloe replied, turning right into the driveway. "When you put it that way-" she blew a raspberry at them. Rachel threw up her hands in surrender.
"You'll thank us some day," she said.
"Probably tomorrow when I don't feel like slamming my head against the windshield until I pass out," Chloe quipped. "Really," the truck ceased to rumble as Chloe turned the key. "I get it, I get what you mean and why you said all of that, I just don't get why you two think we should do it today?"
"Because we've all been hanging onto pieces of bullshit that aren't our fault," Rachel told her. Max had gone back to relative silence and that was unsurprising. It had definitely been a year since the brunette was as quiet as she had been since they boarded the plane from LA. Ahead of them the half-painted Madsen house did not look imposing so much as tedious. As far as Rachel was concerned it was a roadblock. "I know you want to get home to George and listen to him go on and on about swanky parties and all, but he'll be there for a few days."
"God," Chloe sighed, leaning against the steering wheel completely. "I really want to like George."
"But he leaves Steph all on her own while her mother's off in Tahiti or wherever?" Chloe nodded, but did not lift her head from where it pressed against the wheel. Max shifted quietly beside Rachel, as if to say that they should get going. Rachel got it, Max was exhausted. Probably more so than Rachel, herself, but there was nothing for it but to ease Chloe into this. Playfully, Rachel mimicked the harried George Gingrich's voice. "'Ho-ly shit. When did we get a dog? Did we get a dog or am I hallucinating from the overpriced party drugs that I have to take just to get up in the morning?'" Unpracticed observers of Chloe Price would have missed the slight quirk of her lips. Not Rachel. She nudged the bluenette and Chloe started to open the driver's side door.
"You guys, I know I have to go in but if you want to wait out here, I totally get it."
"No fucking chance," Max finally said.
When they reached the front door, Rachel watched as Chloe tried the knob and found it locked. The girl was shifting through the keys on her keyring when Rachel began to notice something odd. The doorknob in question was the same style, same shape as before but it was shiny and new. David changed the locks, Rachel thought. For a moment she considered letting Chloe figure it out on her own, but that seemed unnecessarily cruel. The keys jingled between Chloe's tired, uncoordinated fingers until such time as Rachel pressed her left hand down on top of them and shook her head.
"I don't think your key's going to work, hon." Chloe blinked in confusion and then glanced from Rachel's concern, to Max's half-awake frustration and finally to the doorknob itself.
"Oh," Chloe said. As if some great conversation had been concluded, Rachel watched the artist turn on a dime and try to walk back toward the truck, her face not changing. God damn it, she thought, reaching out and taking hold of Chloe's hand to keep her nearby. The sound of Max's insistent, no, angry pounding on the old door was enough to wake the dead. No one inside of the house was going to mistake that they were there. If it was David, he was outnumbered three to one. If it was Joyce, she was, too. Chloe turned about with a groan as she seemed to realize she was not getting away, but pulled her arm free. The girl looked to be a kind of anxious that was not quite 'something good or bad might happen' but closer to 'something bad is happening and I can't get away.' Joyce Madsen pulled open the front door to her home as Chloe was just starting to try to pull Rachel and Max from the doorstep. All Rachel could do was return her hand to Chloe's arm and try to calm the girl down as mother and daughter matched eyes. Max, who had been the one knocking, did not speak, so Rachel followed suit.
"Why um, why don't you all come in?" was Joyce's substitute for 'hello.' She was still dressed for work and looked, to Rachel, as if she might understand the urge to drop for a nap. Stealing about twenty minutes on Steph's couch, comfortable as it might be, was a poor substitute for actual sleep and the momentary jolt of energy had begun to fade.
"Changed the locks, huh?" Chloe asked. It did not sound accusing, it looked like she was reaching for a topic of discussion. Joyce stepped aside.
"It's not you I locked the house against," Joyce told her. "It's David. I wanted him to understand he wasn't coming back in at the moment and he's going to have to get comfortable at this hotel."
"Think the two of you will work it out?"
"I just don't know." Rachel could see the thought in Chloe's eyes, that this was tantamount to a yes. Chloe did, however, step past her mother. Rachel let Max come in next and for once the brunette didn't even try to match Joyce's eyes. I'm impressed she can hold her head up. "Come on through and sit down." I'm impressed I can hold my head up. Her eyes ached each time she closed them, begging for the sweet release of sleep.
"We just wanted to look through my closet once more, to make sure I have everything I need. A-as long as it hasn't been thrown out, that is." The woman shook her head once and then told them that it had not been.
"Just come sit down for a few minutes," was the blonde woman's insistent cry. She was positioned roughly between them and the stairs. It would have been easy to just push past her and get up there but technically speaking they were guests in her house. As soon as it became clear they were not going to be let upstairs without giving into the woman's 'please, poor me' eyes (which had just begun watering, by the way), Max took hold of Chloe's hand and began to lead her down the hall. For a moment, Rachel had the urge to demand Joyce walk in front of her, as if having her at her back was dangerous. If she wasn't acting like a snake in the grass... Instead, Rachel placed each hand on one of Chloe's shoulders and followed her back through the hall into the open dining room. For the most part the house was unchanged, except that most every sign of David downstairs was missing, if one discounted the photo of the Madsens at their wedding reception. Hey, at least the cake was good and I totally copped someone's whiskey from the bar.
Max was the first of them to take a seat and Chloe, looking reluctant as she removed her overshirt and tossed it across one shoulder, had not managed to follow suit before Joyce turned on the guilt trip. Frankly, Rachel was proud of the artist for not immediately stepping away from her seat and saying 'Fuck this!" Rachel would not have blamed her: as far as she was concerned Chloe was trying and Joyce had been a pain in the ass from the moment the door opened. Oh god, she thought as the woman opened her mouth. Here we go.
"Chloe, are you sure you won't come home now?" The girl shifted uncomfortably, her hands on the back of the chair in front of her. While Joyce walked around them, Rachel paused only a step behind Chloe and waited for her to decide whether she was going to stick around or not. Her discomfort was so obvious that even in her hazy state Max was watching Chloe sharply.
"I'm already home, where I'm living now." Joyce settled into a chair and made a big show of looking put out, looking hurt. Oh god, I was right about you, wasn't I? Rachel thought, recalling the time she had accused the woman of manipulating peoples' emotions. She really had hoped to be proven wrong. I don't like the idea that she might be able to do this shit to Chloe and Max right now. Even as Chloe lowered herself into a chair beside Max, Rachel hovered behind her, resting a hand on the girl's shoulder. This was my idea, and I swear to god if she starts fucking with Chloe's head, I'll put an end to it. Briefly, Rachel wondered if she was not feeling a little extra defensive because she was tired. "I mean, as much as I hate David, I don't trust you. He wasn't the one I was supposed to be able to trust. You were and," Chloe's voice dropped slightly. "Well, that bit me in the ass, didn't it?" For the most part the bruising around Chloe's wrist had faded, but Rachel caught her turning that hand palm up as if examining it while she spoke.
"Oh, Chloe," the consummate victim sighed, leaning on her elbows at the table as if to talk 'down' to Chloe's level. Never mind that Chloe's taller than all three of us in this room. "What would I have to do to earn that trust back?" Manipulative, childish, buck passing, blame-shifting bullshit. Rachel felt the moment Chloe shifted from humoring all three of them in this situation to angry. Her shoulder shook beneath Rachel's left hand and even when Max took Chloe's right, it did not stop. She couldn't see the artist's face but was rather happy Max did not have her camera to take a photo of it. I don't think I want to see it.
"What would you say if you were me?" she asked. "What would you say after a couple of years of being told you're shit, you're scum, after being stalked by him, him stalking your friends and making accusations about us that have no basis in reality, after your mother backs him up this whole time, a man who threatened you and pushed you around, and everyone else, too, what would it take to earn back YOUR trust?"
"I don't know," Joyce replied in a small, almost childish voice and looked down toward the table. There, she began to press her nails against it, as if testing how well they held up under pressure, anything to avoid looking at Chloe. If looks could kill, huh?
"Well if you don't know, why the fuck should I? This was a mistake. I'll try this again another day. Or maybe nothing up there is worth this." Chloe rose all at once, quickly enough that Max was forced to release her hand and Rachel her shoulders. "It never changes with you. It's all about how you're a victim. Poor you, your daughter smarts off and stands up for herself and woe is you, you married some shithead and enabled everything he's ever done by refusing to see him as anything but a hero. A hero doesn't stalk teenagers, but you refused to believe me, your own daughter about it. Even after I left that day I bet you thought I was lying until you saw the cameras."
Max rose beside her somewhat more slowly, enough so that Rachel took a step away from Chloe and reached out to steady the brunette. It's been a really, really long day. Chloe turned and shot a look at the two of them that was laced not with the anger Rachel thought they rightly deserved for putting Chloe through this today, but with guilt. That was another ball of yarn to unravel, but Chloe didn't look intent on doing it there. Rachel reached out and grabbed the forgotten overshirt that hung over the back of Chloe's chair and watched the bluenette approach Rachel. Joyce stood all at once as if she thought Chloe was about to leave and she wanted to stop her. Rachel, though, matched her girlfriend's eyes and reacted as Chloe hugged her tight, once.
"You were trying to help, I'm sorry I was shitty on the way over, but this was why." Surprised by the personal gesture in a place that was rapidly coming to seem very impersonal to Chloe, Rachel nodded, her face pressed against the artist's. After a second, Chloe repeated this process with Max and declared she was sorry to waste Joyce's time. If Joyce was not aware of the nature of their relationship before, she was now.
"Are you staying somewhere safe this time?" Joyce called as Chloe turned and strode off toward the hall.
"I am but, you know what?" Chloe asks, "I'm not sure it's actually any of your business. If you try to bring me back here, I'll do whatever it takes to get away again."
Chloe only turned back when Joyce asked Rachel and Max to stay and talk to her. While Rachel did agree, Max did not. It was oddly satisfying to watch the hurt cross Joyce's face as Max told her goodbye and pulled Chloe from the house insistently. After a few seconds, the door shut behind them and Rachel folded her arms across her chest. Okay, Joyce, try this shit on me.
September 19th 2011, 7:45 PM
Rachel was the one of them still cognizant enough to actually stop Max in front of her own door. While still talking normally, Max's thought processes were beginning to get a little out there. They hadn't talked about anything serious since Rachel filled her and Chloe in on what Joyce had had to say. Their entire meal had been eaten with Max in a quiet, half-delirious state. She had, in fact, left her sandwiches completely untouched. Rachel held these and a few spare fries in a bag in her left hand. How much more do I have in me tonight? she asked herself. Rachel shot one look back toward Kate's door. Enough to take care of Kate and Dana? Fuck, I don't know.
"This is it," Rachel told Max, who nodded once and wavered on her feet as she turned toward the door. "Okay, okay," she pressed her right hand to the back of Max's neck. "Stay with me long enough to unlock your door, okay?" Her exhausted Nu-Hippie nodded and, keys in hand, took and missed her first stab at her door's lock. Yeah, Chloe's been through some shit lately, but as for today, Max and I have kinda been through absolute hell. It was hard to think it had been only just over a day since she was freezing, running through the woods, alone. Worse for Max, she reminded herself as the photographer let out an 'ahah' and opened the door. Just inside the door, Rachel released the girl, earning a playful 'aww.'
"Yeah, yeah," Rachel said, shoving the bag in her left hand into Max's chest. "Take it. Eat your sandwiches. Go to sleep and tomorrow we're gonna go to breakfast and you'll eat with us, okay?" The brunette looked up at her, appearing more like herself for a second and then frowned.
"I'll try," Max promised her, taking the bag. Her drooping eyelids suggested that she was going to fall asleep on her feet. Max had let on that, technically, it had been somewhere in the realm of a day or two since she'd slept at all and far longer than that since she had slept a full eight hours. Naps only go so far. Max stumbled as Rachel pushed her in, insistently. Whatever the brunette had been about to say, Rachel gestured for her to make for her bed.
"And make sure to get up early enough for a shower."
"You sayin' I stink?" Max asked her as she sat the bag of food on the side of her bed and stumbled toward her closet. Probably looking for something to sleep in. The screen of Max's laptop was dark on the desk, but Rachel knew that if someone were to press a button, the fateful video would be waiting there. That's alright, Future Max isn't as scary as she was, yesterday. If anything, Rachel just wished she'd taken a second to ask the woman why she was wearing Rachel's jacket- a version of Rachel's jacket. Now I'll never know.
"I am," Rachel promised. "So do I. I'm gonna take a lo-ong shower, too. But first I'm gonna go talk to Kate and Dana, okay?" Max looked at her in some confusion. "They were super worried about you, so I'm gonna tell them you're okay and go to bed."
"Okay," she replied, voice small and sleepy. Max didn't seem to be capable of asking too many questions. Sighing, Rachel took a step inside and pressed her lips to Max's cheek, causing the girl to stop, a tee she had just pulled from the closet clenched in her hands. "If you really want me to sleep, you could stay with me."
"We were sick today, remember? We probably shouldn't get caught in each others' room if someone comes to bed check." This earned a soft pull on the edge of one of her jacket sleeves and very blatant puppy dog eyes. Max was trying hard to be adorable and in Rachel's current state it was super effective. If she hadn't wanted to get things squared away with Kate and Dana, Rachel was fairly certain she would have caved there and then. A night curled up around Max sounded just fine right now. "Eat and go to sleep, okay Max?"
"Okay," she repeated in that same soft, exhausted voice before she returned to finding something comfortable to wear. Rachel made a quick retreat and was just through Max's door when she thought to turn back.
"I'm going to be just down the hall after I get done talking to them, you know, in case something happens."
"And you'll still be here in the morning right?" One day, Rachel decided, I'm going to get you back for breaking my heart.
"I promise," she told the photographer. "I love you. Tomorrow night's going to be a night to ourselves." These were her parting words to Max. She shut the door to room 219 without a look back and made immediately for Kate's. Square away old debts, cover asses and do what's right by your friends, she reminded herself. This was a nugget of wisdom from Sera, of all people, but it seemed appropriate in this state where all Rachel wanted to do was collapse on her bed and sleep until her alarm went off. Kate came to the door the moment Rachel knocked.
"Hey," Kate greeted, anxiously. "Do you want to come in?" Rachel noticed the dirty-blonde looking over her shoulder, looking for a sign of Max. Sucks to disappoint, but she needed a nap. Her answer was a quick nod. Kate for her part, stepped back and let Rachel in. She took a moment to look around the room. It was just a little dark, but neater than Rachel's at home had ever been. Other than Kate's laptop, her camera and a printer, she couldn't see a ton of personal effects on her first sweep of the room. The girl stepped toward her bed, fingers working against one another in some anxiety. Kate's school bag and purse rested in a corner and there was also a short bookcase full of various books very close. Sitting on top of it, not so subtly, is a bible. Kate's anxious, eager. Rachel knew she wanted more information than Chloe's text that "Max is safe, we're bringing her home now" gave.
When directed, Rachel settled into a seat at Kate's computer desk.
"So, um, what happened?" Kate asked, quite abruptly.
"I'm really tired," Rachel told her. "So I'm going to kind of make it short?" The studious girl nodded. "In her room, we found some evidence that suggested Max had kind of run away. She was having, uh, let's call it a crisis."
"This is about her um, being unwell?"
"Her mental health was a big part of it, but Max just panicked is what it comes down to, Kate." The girl leaned forward on the bed, looking sad, like a scolded puppy. "I'd say more but it's a matter of respecting Max's privacy."
"I understand. I hope she gets better soon." I know you do, Rachel wanted to tell her. You're a good person. It felt like shit, lying to Kate, whose big earnest hazel eyes were so full of concern.
"Max kind of overstretched herself trying to be everyone's super hero. Now she needs to rest and she's going to probably need a while to recover. Maybe a few weeks." Kate watched her the whole time and Rachel quickly found herself rambling as she realized this. "Sorry, I just, she always does this shit, putting everyone else first until she breaks down and then she doesn't tell us what's going on. This time it was different, it was way bigger, but it doesn't change everything else." I didn't know I was feeling this upset about it? I think I need to sleep.
"It's okay," then, after a pause, "You really love her, don't you?"
"I do," Rachel told her. "She drives me up a freaking wall, but I do." While everything in her spoke of a desire to make a quick escape and head to bed, Rachel saw another opportunity appear in front of her. I'm already here, aren't I? A question which had been weighing on her mind since meeting Kate seemed in reach, proper to ask about for once. "Can I talk to you about something I've been a little worried about, a-and please don't take offense."
"Okay," Kate promised, but she no longer sounded quite so at ease, anxiety clearly heightening. Okay, make this fast before you upset both of you, asshole.
"Relax, it's okay," Rachel counseled. "It's just something that's kind of been gnawing at me for a while and I'm getting to the point where not talking about the things that mess with my head just feels stupid." She was given one more nod as encouragement by the typically rather quiet girl. Kate was once more wearing a ponytail and dressed for bed, in a light tee and long soft looking pants. "Are you comfortable around the three of us? I mean, when things are a little uh, romantic?" Kate's immediate response was to lean forward, looking guilty. What is she-
"Have I done something to make you guys uncomfortable?" Rachel couldn't help herself. She laughed out loud.
"I was more worried about it the other way around."
"It is complicated," Kate answered, frowning. Rachel was too tired to get concerned by this, all she could really do was wait and see. "My God tells me to love, though, and leave the judging to him and that's what I'm going to do. Does that make sense?" Rachel nodded. It did make sense. "It's a messed up world, I have my God and he speaks to me daily. Some things, I can't work out so I just leave them be, okay? Besides, you three were my first friends when I came to Blackwell and even if there are things we don't or can't share, it's okay."
"Can I be uncomfortably honest with you for a second?" Rachel asked. Maybe she wasn't too tired to feel, after all. This confused Kate, but she eventually agreed with a soft nod. "No matter what Victoria says, you pull your look off well. You're cute, you're confident, you know who you are and no one confuses you about that. I just want you to remember that that's probably why Victoria fucks with you."
"I don't understand," Kate told her, honestly, though she looked down at her hands as if meeting Rachel's eyes was hard.
"Max thinks Victoria is hella insecure because of trying to live up to her parents and this idea of what they want her to be." This was a rather personal discussion to pass on, but it was important to Rachel in the moment that Kate understood her. "You being able to look into a mirror and be happy with who you see is what upsets Victoria, that's why she goes after you." Kate did not lift her head.
"Thanks, I guess," the girl finally replied. "Do-um, do you think Max is right?"
"Kate, there aren't a ton of times I think she's too far off base and Victoria has always seemed super insecure. In the past, I was a shitty person and I used it against her. Now, I just kind of hope she finds a healthier way to express it." We both fucked up, back then, Rachel thought, recalling her time practicing for The Tempest, her antics in manipulating Victoria into withdrawing from the play. She wasn't a bad actress. I wish I hadn't fucked her over. I wish she was rational enough to listen to me now. Rachel rose from her seat. She would have loved to shoot the shit a little longer but she still needed to talk to Dana and her body was starting to give out.
"Hey Kate?"
"Yeah?"
"Thanks for being my friend."
September 20th, 2011 3:49 PM
You're not going to be sick, Rachel told herself. Your stomach will chill out. Outside, the grey-brown limbs of trees swaying in a strong wind momentarily drew her attention as she eased her car to a stop. Rachel glanced once in the rear view mirror to see the two girls in the back and then shot Max a look, in the front passenger seat. They were all focused on the line of vehicles in the distance, the most visible being those cars and trucks with their flashing lights. Firefighters oversaw a band of volunteers that had come from as far as Edgeton to protect Arcadia Bay from the encroaching flames. She could focus and even from as far back as they were parked, see those fires. She only hoped that the wind outside was not pushing the flames toward fresh fuel.
For the most part, the flames had been kept in check on the Arcadia Bay end of things. That was to say, their progress was slow, inching. They were still progressing. No matter the time and effort taken to wet the earth, to fight the fire, it was just a matter of time. There were not enough people to stretch the line of flame approaching Arcadia Bay at all times. The last one, she knew, had been the same way. The Edgeton fire chief had declared the May 2010 fire like something he "had never seen." And you know why, right? It has to do with why it started. It was you, angry. The last one spread so fast because you were still angry, always angry. Then it died all at once the day you found Sera.
Now, this one's slow but it won't die. Rachel rather thought this meant she was still angry about something but when she tried to find it, to think about what might piss her off, the answer shamed her. Once more Rachel worked her eyes over Max. The two of them had slept as long as possible the night they all returned from Los Angeles but even believing that Max had done her level best for sleep did not remove how obvious it was that the girl was dead tired. That made bringing up how Rachel felt hurt by much of Max's behavior difficult. Inwardly, Rachel was well aware that Max had been acting both in defense of Rachel and Chloe, but also herself. She also knew that she, Rachel, had crossed several lines over the last month and probably played a role in Chloe's showdown with David, not to mention in David being angry enough to confront Frank, resulting in the man's death. But Max ran away from it all when all either of us wanted was to know what was happening.
Chloe had revealed to Rachel that very morning the contents of her private discussion with that other Max, the one in which the woman had begged her to swallow her hurt pride and frustration for a few days. It was sound reasoning: it didn't take a genius to realize that the girl to Rachel's right was suffering, that she was not herself. All reports suggested she had barely spoken to anyone other than Rachel or Chloe in two days, even though Rachel had taken care to make sure she was eating. What was it Chloe said? That she just 'hit the reset button' on her own identity? This isn't the time for me to be angry about her running off. We'll talk, just give it a week.
The truth was that Rachel could not shift the blame for the fire in front of her to Max. In the end, she had set it and now it had raged for nearly four days. While Arcadia Bay was safe for the moment, to the east the fire was approaching a more populated region with that same creeping-moss surety. Can I afford not to talk to Max about this, though? What if that's the only way to fix this?
In the back, Chloe and Steph unbuckled their seatbelts and Chloe reached forward to rest a hand on her shoulder. Rachel wished she wasn't in the driver's seat, hell, she wished she wasn't in control of any of this, but it was wasted effort to do so. With no one coming up behind them and them being stopped just far enough away that neither police nor firefighters were bothering to come turn them away, Rachel knew they could watch the steady wall of smoke and the faint tinge of flame in the distance for a while.
"The fire has to stop," Rachel reminded herself. The land was generally very wet, conditions very cool. Maybe the occasional light rain had been to thank for the slow progress, but it seemed a poor force all bit its lonesome. "Max is right. If this thing's still going it's because I started it." Miles of land burned because I lost my cool when David shot at me. One thing's for sure: they'll never find Frank or Damon's bodies. Judging by the lack of information in the news, David had not reported any version of what happened that night to anyone.
"In the other timeline, that Chloe said that the first fire stopped at the same time her Rachel got stabbed by Damon Merrick," Max finally chimed in.
"Does that mean I need to nearly die for the fire to stop?"
"I don't know but I'm not voting for that one," Max muttered, and then seemed to fall into a thought long enough for Steph to add in a 'ditto.' "It might mean you need to go unconscious or something"
"I've done that a few times since the first started. Sleep. Last night I slept like the dead."
"Maybe not naturally, then," Max said, beginning to sound frustrated. Rachel had to remember that they all needed some time to rest and constantly bouncing from one fuck up to the next was not working in their favor. But this one's kind of a big one, so I kinda need them. I kind of need them all. She glanced up into the rearview mirror where Chloe was leaning forward yet again.
"Go pull over off the side of the road," she interrupted. It was pretty reasonable, just in case a truck had to come by. Chloe had been quiet for a while but now she was starting to sound upset, at least to Rachel's ears. Rachel couldn't help but wonder if it was from remembering the trip out to rescue her from the woods. She had been given to understand it was stressful. It did not take Rachel long to pull off the road and turn her engine off. Left in the sudden quiet of the dead engine, the sound of wind was all that they could hear.
"So," Chloe said, "The fire, the wind are both based on your emotions. Maybe the rain is, too."
"Maybe," Max replied, sounding the most upbeat she had in a couple of days. "It makes sense, or-or maybe you need to look at the things you were feeling when you started the fire."
"Or both," Rachel told them. "I'll do anything at this point, as long as it puts this fire out." She really didn't want anyone to lose anything else. As far as she knew, other than the old abandoned Bowers property there had only been one other house lost. But the fire keeps getting closer and even with volunteers, they can't keep fighting it forever. Rachel couldn't imagine all of the woods that had been lost, all the animals killed or displaced. Rachel thought that Steph sensed her discomfort as the girl nudged the back of her seat immediately. She realized she had gone quiet and begun to grasp at her steering wheel despite the fact that the car was off.
"We'll figure this out," Steph promised her. Rachel looked up from the steering wheel, exhaling slowly. The trees beside them continued swaying to and fro in a strong wind. Up ahead, she thought she could see it even messing with the fire, making it taller or shorter, sway or almost vanish. It was still early, but Rachel wanted them to be done with this soon, before people had to start breaking off to sleep or eat. People must be dead tired up there. Rachel would have offered to volunteer if she wasn't afraid of what she could do around the fire, especially if it bore some remnant of a connection to her mood.
"I don't really understand how all of this works but maybe you should try it Max's way first," Steph offered. Rachel understood the motivation behind that thought. The other way, trying to find what, if anything, could help her bring rain to fight the fire sounds dangerous. "And you need to calm down, Rachel or it might make things worse." How?
"How?" she asked.
"The wind is you, right? It might be blowing the fire toward fresh kindling. It could make things spread faster." Steph had taken like a fish to water with the knowledge that Rachel, Chloe and Max were even more abnormal than she already thought. Rachel was grateful for that but couldn't help but feel a little suspicious sometimes, especially when Steph showed decent comprehension of what they could do based off of their sparse descriptions and hurried explanations the day they got back to town. "So try to calm it down." Rachel was going to try, but she also had to recall the night in some detail. She unbuckled her seatbelt and did her best to turn in her seat. Max was watching the fire ahead but when Rachel opened her mouth she cocked her head toward her like a dog hearing its name.
"I was out following David that day when I saw him leaving town, so I did my best to follow. I still don't know how or why he didn't see me. When I drove by the property I couldn't find david but the RV was there and David's car was there, so he had pulled off there. I was a little freaked." This time Rachel faced Max more fully and the girl turned to match her attitude. Max was trying she just seemed a little out of it. "I was scared David would find something he shouldn't." Max's eyes darkened, her lips turned down, and she nodded in understanding. "So I warned Frank. Frank texted me and told me to get David away." Rachel looked back at Steph. "That's why I called you and, it actually worked. He left. I waited outside of David and Joyce's house and followed him when he left again. He went right back out there and by the time I parked a way off and got back to the property, things were bad."
"Bad how," Chloe asked her. Max answered for Rachel.
"The thing we didn't want David to find? He never found it but he could have. It was sitting out there, just by the RV. Rachel set it on fire and that's when everything went to hell, right?" Rachel was watching Steph out of the corner of her eye and was oddly relieved to find no concern about them skirting around whatever the 'thing' was they hadn't wanted David to find.
"Right," Rachel agreed. It was easy, sometimes, to forget that Max had been there and had seen it all in one of the experiences she called 'cycles'. It was kind of weird to think that somewhere out there Rachel went through all of that with Max right beside her. "David freaked out, shot at me. He and Frank got into a struggle and I tried to calm them down, to make them both stop, calm down, relax. Frank was drunk and scared and David was just angry, angry, angry." Rachel sighed and began the process of shrugging off her jacket, finding that she was starting to warm up a bit. "And honestly so was I. I was so mad. I was so mad at David. Even before he shot at me, I was mad. I wanted him to suffer but I knew I couldn't let it happen. I was just too angry to think straight."
"You did everything you could be expected to, in that situation," Chloe tried to assure her.
"I shouldn't have been in it to begin with," Rachel says, turning back to artists in the back seat. "It was wrong. I did this wrong. I handled it wrong. I shouldn't have kept anything from you guys."
"I'm glad you know that now," Chloe said. "I'm glad you both know that now." Max did not react to this shot in her direction, but then Steph chimed in.
"I'm glad all three of you know that now." Rachel watched Chloe wilt a little at the comment. They really had all fucked up. But this is about fixing it, right? About getting better. Outside of the window, things continued as normal. The wind was dying down. A car carrying some volunteer firefighters drove past them as the woman behind the wheel ostensibly left for the day.
"There are only so many hours a person can work before they become a danger to themselves and others," Rachel mused as the car passed.
"Maybe that's it," Max said, very quietly. "You've been having trouble figuring out why the rains start, right?"
"I still don't know when or how it happens, but I believe you."
"I remember it happening a few times you told David off or tried to talk me out of doing something stupid," Chloe added.
"Exactly, that's my point," Max confirmed. As she watched Max came back to herself a bit: care, discovery, pride and relief passed across her face. She thinks she has something. If this was a part of the Max that her girlfriend truly was, she hoped the photographer grabbed hold of it, and soon.
"What's your point?" Steph chimed in, confused. The back and forth was going to make Rachel's eyes roll into the back of her head if someone didn't speak up soon, and clearly.
"The heat comes when you're angry, embarrassed or… yeah, anyway. The wind seems to come when you're nervous or flat out scared." Rachel thought that it was about time she got to the bottom of 'yeah, anyway' but decided not to push. "What if the rain is a result of feeling protective?" She was dubious, but then, none of this made a lot of sense to her. I'm not sure when it's going to start making sense, but it can happen any time, now.
"I mean, at this point I'll try anything."
It took them awhile from there, the four of them sitting in the car watching smoke and fire in the distance. Figuring out how to set it off was difficult. Rachel's confliction and confusion didn't help. See, she figured, she was at least feeling a little protective of the Chloe and Max the night of the fire. That didn't do anything resembling summoning rain. Max arguing that she was mostly angry throws Rachel off a bit but in the end she was forced to agree that she was focused on the anger, so she could access the fire. It was a conscious decision, too. I made sure to focus on that.
After a while, Max reminded her again that she was there, once. She had, Max told them, never seen Rachel at that level of rage. Rachel started one of the hottest fires Max had ever heard of outside of a lightning strike or a laboratory. She had definitely been angry.
"Now there are people working their asses off to stop or slow the fire down. No matter what they do, though it doesn't act right." Max was speaking quickly, as if trying to hurry Rachel to a conclusion. "Their houses are in danger, their people are in danger. There's plenty to protect."
"Yes, I get that. I agree with you," Rachel agreed, though her guilt was really starting to rise. Max reached across the seat and pressed her lips to Rachel's cheek.
"It's going to be okay," Max promised her, "and do you know why?"
"No."
"It's going to be okay, because you're here."
They sat there for over an hour more and at one point the car as a whole had to vehemently reject Max's inference that she might leave the car and walk toward the fire, herself if it could set Rachel off. In the end, she wasn't sure what it was that did the trick, but she had gotten used to finding the feeling associated with the fire, not just the emotion but the sensation. When it came time for her to finally find the rain, the water, it was a dip into a cool pool on a hot day. The sensation even started in her feet as if she were testing the waters and then rose up around her. At one point, Rachel had been quite concerned she was about to fill her cab with water and was forced to step out of the car.
It was only a few minutes later that the four of them took a moment to stop and stand in a massive, 'unexplained' rainstorm. Max had momentarily been made uncomfortable as a peel of thunder and a strong wind accompanied the rain, but Rachel and Chloe's arms around her had eventually driven it away. Rachel had spent the rest of their time in the rain with Max pressed against her, but by the time they had gotten back to the car, soaking wet, whatever difficulties Max had with the sound of thunder, the gusting wind and the pounding rain had faded under the steady downfall.
They did not immediately drive home; the rain was thick, drops large. They could see nothing much farther a car length ahead of them. Rachel turned on the radio, the heater, her headlights and the emergency blinkers and the four sat in relative comfort, watching a rainstorm like Arcadia Bay had not seen in a couple of years hide the world from their view, cloaking it in a grey veil. Rachel couldn't say for certain whether or not she thought she could do this again at will, as she had been able with the fire, but she knew that like the fire it had consequences.
She emptied Max's stainless steel water bottle-which actually contained water, today- and then sat with her hand out the window, trying desperately to fill it from the rain, however unlikely and time consuming that would be. When they got the occasional sight of the fire line, it mostly just revealed smoke. If I have to be thirsty to do something like this, then I'll get a fucking big gulp from the Pacific Oil station. At one point, Rachel eased her car forward along the road, closer to the fire line to try to get a better view, or perhaps to hope that it forced the storm toward the far edge of the fire.
Either way, she dropped Chloe and Steph off by Steph's car a half an hour later, when the rain had thinned. As for Max, Rachel kept her under the roof of her car for quite some time, sitting parked in the Blackwell lot and listening to the sound of rain on the car roof. She thought, as the brunette leaned against her arm and inevitably fell asleep, that maybe she could let go of her anger and hurt after all.