Dec 14, 2013 - First Choice Timeline
"You went there, again, didn't you?" Victoria glared over at Max from the driver's seat. Max hung her head in response.
"No?"
"Why is that a question? You went there or you didn't."
"Went where?" Taylor asked from the back.
It had taken over thirty minutes to find the tree fort on the way there. The way back to the car had taken only twenty. It went a lot quicker when someone actually memorized the route, something Victoria had made sure to do after the first wrong turn by Max. The hike back had been quiet, Victoria and Taylor both first focusing in on Max and making sure she was really back with them; that she wasn't lost in whatever memory had stolen her away with the stupid flash of the stupid camera for her stupid mementos.
I should have never let her push herself so soon, she thought, trying to focus on something grounded - something tangible to which she could hold herself to account. Not those other things, not those voices that she never should have been able to hear. No, it had to be that room, the Dark Room, that's the only thing that made sense. She needed to know; she needed that confirmation. Yet...
"Nowhere, Tay." Victoria buried those thoughts down deep. As much as wanted answers, Victoria hadn't even considered pushing Max for details until they were safely back at her car. Now, the parking lot some five minutes behind them and the roads of Arcadia Bay stretching before them, she finally felt safe to push once more for answers. Apparently, Taylor did, too.
"It's okay," Max mumbled. "She probably knows anyway."
Oh Fuck. There's pouty, Max. Victoria had been sure she left her behind over a week ago. How many nights had she slept in Max's room, waking her from those nightmares, working with Kate and even Dana on occasion, to try to get Max back to some semblance of normal? You had to go and fuck it up and let her take a 'selfie' didn't you?
"You don't have to tell me, Max." Taylor again.
"Well, maybe not all the details," Victoria cut in. "But I need to know what happened."
"Vic?"
"It's fine, Taylor," Max said.
"So, you were there again?" Victoria turned the wheel, steering now onto Main Street. They'd be at the Two Whales soon. It wasn't exactly Victoria's notion of an ideal lunch, but Max and Kate had made the plans already and a little grease would probably do the girl good, anyway.
"No?" Max said again with that infuriating uptick of a question at the end.
No? But it had to be there, that place, right? It's the only thing that made sense.
"No?" Victoria asked. She could play this game, too.
"I started to, I don't know, slip back there, to that room…"
"Jefferson's – "
"Shut it, Taylor!" If Taylor wanted to join the in-the-know club (current membership: two), she could do that on her own time. "You started to slip back there and…"
"I don't know." Max rested her head against the window, staring out at the buildings as they blurred by. She let out a deep sigh before continuing. "I tried to focus on a different memory, something other than that place."
"Okay."
"And then, I was there. I was back at the pirate fort with Chloe. We were maybe eight or nine. She might have been ten. I don't know. But instead of that room, I held onto that other memory, and it was like I was living it all over again."
"I don't think that's how PTSD works, Max."
But she was telling the truth, wasn't she? Those voices... the pirate fort... it made sense. It makes no sense at all.
"Fine," Max said. "You tell that to my brain."
"So you went to your fort instead of Jefferson's… " Victoria rolled her eyes as Taylor attempted to join the club once more, probing for that confirmation. A quick glance over to Max assured her that the girl was okay to share.
"Yes, Taylor. Now, please, don't mention that name ever, again."
"Got ya." Taylor ran her pinched thumb and pointer finger across her lips as if zipping them shut.
"Now, Max, you understand my worry, right?" Victoria took her eyes off the road long enough to catch Max's puzzled expression beside her. "About what you just said. Slipping into that place after the picture, yeah, I see that. That makes sense. Going to your pirate fort with Chloe, that doesn't sound like post-traumatic stress. Yet, you were pure catatonic."
"Uh-huh." Max nodded then resumed staring out the passenger-side window.
Victoria let her own eyes drift over the street ahead of her, as flashes of memory stirred within: her grabbing to Max, trying to stir her. Ghost-like silhouettes of leaves had stirred on the barren trees around her, and those two voices floated up, rustling through those non-existent leaves.
"Weigh anchor and hoist the mizzen, me heartie. We've a Man-O-War approaching broadside. Heave ho! All hands on deck!"
"Aye, aye!"
No, no. That didn't... that couldn't...
Victoria tightened her grip on the wheel, returning her attention to the here and now.
"That's worrisome, Max," she continued. "That shit needs to get checked out."
Max ignored her, signaling no response, not even a shake of her head to disagree. "Can I see the shot," Max asked instead.
"In your bag." Victoria returned her focus to the road. This was pointless. The girl wanted help, but she refused to even consider anything resembling professional help, anything that would require an actual record of her time in the Dark Room was apparently out of the question.
And even if it weren't how does that explain those images... those voices...
Beside her, Max ruffled through her messenger bag pulling out the morning's photos. She flipped a moment through them, then paused on the last two shots of her threatening the Chloe pirate stand-in in the fort above her.
And son of a bitch if the little shit isn't smiling like a god-damned kid on Christmas morning. Dog, this girl was going to ruin her. Wait… dog? Son of a -
Five minutes later and Victoria's BMW eased into the parking lot of the Two Whales. Max pocketed one of the two photos of her at the tree fort, then slipped out the passenger door, as Taylor and Victoria exited as well. An odd mix of emotions tugged at her, all battling for the driver's seat, but Max had no idea which was really in control.
On the one hand, the dream of William and Rachel (you were awake; that's not a dream, Max) had her guts tied into knots. She barely had attained a sense of normalcy around the concept of time travel and now she had cryptic dreams of dead people taunting her. Plus, she couldn't forget that she had frozen time. Again. That's twice since murdering Chloe. How many times was she going to risk throwing away Chloe's sacrifice? The fear threatened to tear her to shreds.
On the other hand, she had the perfect gift for her reunion with Joyce, which brought with it an upswelling of joy. Well, maybe not perfect, but she believed that Joyce might appreciate the thought – knowing that Max hadn't forgotten about her daughter.
Don't you forget about me.
Max winced as Chloe's voice invaded her consciousness. She didn't have the wherewithal to suffer through that memory right now; although it did bring her to that third hand (wherever that comes from). Seeing William again, seeing the old pirate fort, playing with Chloe at dusk for one more adventure of the Pirates of Arcadia Bay – it brought with it a flash flood of grief that could easily wash her away if Max wasn't careful.
So, that mix of fear and joy and grief swirling about inside her (like that damnable twister threatening the Bay, looming over it, a beast on the verge of utter destruction), Max fell into place beside Victoria and Taylor slipping a mask of silence between them. She could tell that they were worried. They're furtive glances in her direction were not exactly subtle. Yet, Max could do little to calm their fears and she definitely couldn't say anything, not as uncertain as she was to which emotion would take over at any minute. Who knows what she might let spill out if she attempted to speak?
"You sure you're okay for this, Caulfield?" Victoria tapped her shoulder to get her attention.
Damn. There goes that not speaking bit.
"Yeah," Max said, her voice practically buried in grief, even that single word coming out in a mix of hitched breaths.
"That sounds okay, alright."
"Smartass." This time Max felt that she had her emotions a little better under control. Maybe if she kept her responses monosyllabic, or at least single words, she might be able to prevent too much emotion from breaking in unwanted. That wouldn't signal that anything was wrong at all.
Taylor held the door for Victoria and Max as they approached, and the trio entered attempting to put on their best game faces. Victoria and Taylor seemed to have theirs down, but Max doubted she had been nearly as successful.
"What's wrong?" Kate rose from the table, her hand to Max's back as she looked over with those kind eyes, one hand fidgeting with her crucifix necklace as she spoke.
Yep, you've got that happy face down pat, Max.
"Nothing," Max said, trying to ignore the tremor that ran through her voice this time. Okay, now we're back to fear. Good going.
"Some difficulty on the shoot, today," Victoria offered when it was clear that no one was buying Max's denial. She waved for Max to take a seat between Kate and Dana, then slipped in across the booth, Taylor following after. "Genius here opted to take us to one of her childhood hangouts with Chloe the pirate." She waved at Max as she said this, as if one look at Max would verify her story, which seemed odd to Max, but she didn't really want to be bothered thinking that one through at the moment. "I guess she wasn't quite prepared for the memories is all," Victoria finished.
Max sniffed a little as she settled onto the bench seat, Kate settling in beside her. Technically, everything Victoria had said was true, but at the same time, it was a lie by omission. Nonetheless, Max couldn't help but be thankful for Victoria's quick thinking.
"Sorry, guys," she said, not bothering to hide her grief this time and swallowing back the lump forming in her throat.
"No problem," Taylor said.
Kate simply took Max's hand, giving it a light squeeze. Dana, however, looked less certain, casting sideways glances between Max and Victoria as if she could suss out the truth on visual observation alone.
"Really, Dana. Nothing. Don't worry," Max said. Her voice cracked. Monosyllabic, Max. Monosyllabic, she reminded herself. " It's fine. My plan. All me."
From the look Dana shot her, Max felt fairly confident the girl didn't believe her. Considering the entire week that Trevor had ended up in the proverbial doghouse after Thanksgiving, Max sensed a hard few days ahead.
Before she could travel too far down that line of thinking, a familiar Southern drawl broke in.
"Hello, girls." Joyce approached the table, a stack of menus in hand. She hadn't noticed Max, yet, hidden in between Kate and Dana as she was. It didn't take her long, however, to spot the familiar hipster. Joyce paused half way through distributing the menus.
"Max? As I live and breathe."
"Hi, Joyce," she said, keeping to her monosyllabic approach. "How are you?"
"I won't lie, Max. It's been hard; but you're a sight for sore eyes."
"You, too."
Joyce dabbed at her cheeks, regaining her composure, then jumped right back into waitress mode. "So, could I get you girls something to drink while you look over the menu?"
Good a time as any to have my first ever beer, Max thought, but she kept that to herself. "Just an OJ for me, Joyce."
Kate asked about the teas, Dana joining her in the order, while Taylor ordered a Diet Coke. Victoria, always a force unto herself, opted for a coffee.
"Alright. I'll give y'all a minute to look over the menu and be right back with those drinks." Before she left, Joyce cast Max a warm smile. The girl almost immediately cracked, gripping hard to Kate's hand. To Kate's credit, she didn't even yelp, despite the fact that Max quickly realized she had to be hurting her.
"Sorry, Kate."
"It's okay," she said, giving Max a light squeeze back.
Max took a deep breath in, attempting calm her chaotic emotions. Beside her, Dana ran a hand across her back.
"You going to be okay?"
"Yeah." I'll be okay if everyone just stops asking me that, she thought a little too harshly. "Thanks, Dana."
"Okay. But if you need me to kick anyone's ass…"
In that moment, her frustration threatened to bubble over. Max could scream at Dana, and if she pushed her much more, she just might. She knew the girl meant well, but she was also very aware of how Dana had focused on Victoria while making that promise. Victoria had obviously noticed as well.
"Then you better hope that particular anyone doesn't see you coming," Victoria said. "Otherwise it won't go as planned."
Dana looked ready to reply herself, but Max elbowed her in the side and luckily the girl restrained herself. Max hadn't trusted that she could have kept it civil if she had opened her mouth to speak. A growing pitch of anger had snuck in and begun to mingle with that grief and fear and that faint, struggling glimmer of joy.
"So," Kate broke in, clearly trying to squash the tension. "I know things were rough, but did you take any good shots, Max?"
"A few," Max lied. The shots were good, but no matter what Victoria said, she knew they were Victoria's and not her own.
"Don't be modest." Victoria glared at her. Based on the slight edge to her tone, Max suspected even Victoria herself knew they were her photos; and she definitely didn't seem keen on Max downplaying the results. Max decided to at least have a little fun with her. Maybe it wold help brighten her mood.
"There might be one or two half decent shots, I guess." Victoria's fingers tightened against her rolled up silverware. "But mostly pretty crap output for the morning."
Beside Victoria, Taylor burst into laughter, while Dana narrowed her eyes again, once more trying to puzzle out what secrets the three of them were concealing. Kate on the other hand paid none of them any mind, focused still on Max.
"Oh, I'm sure they're not that bad."
Max pointedly looked to Victoria. "Oh, I don't know. They're not my best work."
"I will murder you, Max."
Max snickered, while Taylor continued to struggle to restrain her laughter.
"Can I take a look," Kate asked, still not picking up on the jabs being thrown across the table.
"Sure," Max agreed, finally cutting Victoria a break, pulling up her messenger bag and rifling through for the photos. Finding the batch of half a dozen shots from the morning, she withdrew the stack and handed them over to Kate.
Immediately, Kate began flipping through them, turning her artistic eye on each and every photograph. She paused on the first shot of the birds framed through the collapsed fort roof.
"What do you mean, Max. This is a great shot. The lighting in this is beautiful."
Across from Kate, Victoria beamed, even as she rolled her eyes at the nature of the shot in question.
"And this one," Kate called out. "The framing of the lighthouse and the bays through the trees. The composition is gorgeous."
Well that I can take credit for, Max thought, sticking her tongue out at Victoria who would surely recognize Max's role in that particular aspect of the shot.
"And the focus…"
Crap. That's all Victoria.
The girl in question beamed once more, fully aware of how the tides had turned.
As Kate continued to flip through the shots, doing her best to raise Max's spirits, Dana continued to eye both Victoria and Max, and even the snickering Taylor. She eyed until at last her eyes went wide with realization, and she slammed an elbow into Max's side.
"Max," she whispered. "Do we need to talk about something?"
"Uh… No?" Max said. Dog. The jig was up.
Dana didn't seem ready to drop it, but thankfully Kate called Max's attention over before Dana could prod her further.
"Why are there two of these?" Kate knew enough about photography (and the cost of Polaroid film) to know that Max wouldn't have taken two of the same shot without cause. "And who took these two?" The shots in question were of course the shots of Max below the tree fort, preparing to charge up the rope ladder. "Was that you, Tory?"
"Yeah, Tory," Dana said before Victoria could answer, a knowing tone in her voice. "Are those shots yours?"
Max hung her head. She really didn't want to have another of those conversations.
Victoria just nodded along. Max knew that she had no way out, so it was better that Victoria just own up to at least the last two shots; which is exactly what she did.
"Yeah. Max wanted a memento. I'm guessing one for her, and one for someone else?"
"Yeah," Max muttered, just as Joyce approached with their drinks. Quickly Max gathered the photos back up, tucking all but one away, as Joyce handed out the beverages.
"Y'all need another moment," Joyce asked. "Or are ya ready to order."
Kate looked around measuring the looks of her friends and nodded up to Joyce. "We're ready."
Max knew what she wanted, but she still wasn't ready to order. As Joyce began jotting down the meal orders from each of them, Max found her mind wandering back to that last shot, to her replay of that memory of her and Chloe playing pirate at dusk, and to that strange waking dream of Rachel and, more to the current point, William. Just barely thirty minutes earlier, Max had been staring up at Williams' smiling face. He had hugged her, and ruffled her hair, and wiped her tears. He had spoken to her in that sage, silly way that he always had about him, and it had been as if Max had gained back a long lost father. She could still smell his aftershave and feel the warmth of that hug. She could still hear him, telling her to be strong.
And now, she sat in a booth just feet away from his widow, who had grieved that loss for over five years. Did he come to her in her dreams as well? Max would like to think that he did, but between that momentary freezing of time and the nosebleed that she had discovered upon stirring, she doubted that this was the type of dream that waited for most upon leaving the day behind.
"Max?"
Max looked up from her thoughts catching Joyce staring down at her, a look of concern marring her expression.
"Sorry," Max started. "Zoned out for a moment there. Is it too late for a Belgian waffle?"
"Not at all, hon. Figured you might be wanting one."
Max grinned. "A creature of habit I'm afraid."
Joyce pocketed her pad and nodded back at Max. "No problem. I'll get this in and be back right with that order."
As Joyce made to make her exit, Max tapped Kate on her shoulder. "Do you mind," she asked, nodding toward Joyce retreating towards the counter.
"Not at all." Kate sidled out of the booth, letting Max pass.
"Joyce?" Max hurried after her, stopping at the counter just as Joyce rounded it and clipped the ticket up on the order wheel. Joyce turned back, leaning over the glass pastry case.
"You need something else, Max? Some cake?"
"No… well, actually that sounds great, but that's not it."
Joyce opened the back panel, pulling out a slice of red velvet cake. "Still partial?"
Max nodded, already salivating. "Yes, ma'am."
"Always Joyce, Max."
"Yes, Joyce."
"So, if it's not cake…"
"I… I wanted to say that I'm… I'm sorry." Max hung her head as she apologized.
"You don't have anything to apologize for, Max."
She was wrong, so very wrong. She had done it, again, and it was eating her up inside.
"I do," she said. "I… I should have been there. Then… you were just, you opened up your house to me… you let me gather up my own keepsakes, and then… then I just left. Again."
"Again?" Joyce pushed back from the pastry case, rounding the counter and placing a hand on Max's back. "Why don't you step back here for a second? Can you do that?"
"Sure," Max nodded, allowing Joyce to lead her through the door to the back room just off from the kitchen. As they entered the pseudo-pantry, pseudo-storage room, Joyce motioned to a foldout chair propped in one corner near an ashtray and some discarded drinks.
As Max sat, Joyce knelt down in front of her taking Max's hands in hers.
"When you say again, you don't mean William, do you?"
Max couldn't meet Joyce's gaze, keeping her eyes turned towards her feet as had become habit.
"Max, you were just a kid. You didn't have a say in leaving."
"But I could have called," Max choked.
"Honey, that wasn't on you. Not then. You'd never lost anyone before. No one expected you to know how to handle that. And I sure didn't hold you any ill will. I knew you were struggling, too."
Max nodded and sniffed, but she didn't know what else to say.
"Can you look at me?"
Max lifted her gaze up to Joyce. She couldn't look her in the eyes, but she tried to look in the general direction of her face.
"You didn't do anything wrong," Joyce said, holding Max's hands tight in her own.
"I abandoned you… again."
"Well, let's just drop that again nonsense right now, darlin."
"Sorry," Max muttered, doing her best not to look away.
"Max."
Max shook her head, forcibly stopping her self from apologizing again. "Bad habit. Kind of hard to break."
"I understand. But no more apologizing. Not for then. Not for now."
"But it's been nearly two months."
"Honey, you take all the time you need. If this is too soon for you, we don't have to talk today. I'll be here when you're ready."
Max nodded. How is Joyce so good at this, she thought. Then another thought followed that one unbidden; one that she tried to suppress. Why hadn't she been this good at this with Chloe? This wasn't the time for that thought, so Max let out a shaky breath, then returned her attention to her initial goal for this lunch.
"You're too good to me, Joyce."
"Nonsense," she said, releasing Max's hand and easing herself back to her feet.
"Wait." Max grabbed Joyce's hand before she could step away, then let out a soft chuckle as she rose herself. "I came here hoping to be here for you."
"Caring isn't a one-way street, hon."
"I guess not," Max shrugged, then reached into the pocket of her hoodie. As she did, Joyce grabbed at her shoulder, her eyes locked on that blood-stained sleeve.
"Are you okay? What happened to your…"
"Oh." Max paused, her hand still in her pocket. Now would have been a great time to still be able to rewind. She would have definitely left this hoodie in the booth. "It's nothing. Just a little nosebleed."
"Doesn't look little to me. You sure you're okay? I don't need to be calling your mother, do I?"
Max gulped. "No, no. No need for that." She paused, thinking over what she was saying. "Actually, I imagine she'd love to hear from you. But not on my account."
"Okay. But if something's going on, you know you can come to me, right?"
"Of course."
"Good. So you wanted something?"
"Yeah." Max slipped the photo from her pocket, holding it out towards Joyce. "I have something for you."
"Is this a Caulfield original?"
"Sort of. I had help."
Joyce took the photograph from Max, smiling a sad little smile as she looked over the old pirate fort, Max threatening to climb the ladder, while a captain's hat could just barely be seen in the porthole above.
"I wanted you to know that I was thinking about her. That I still am… That I'll… I'll always remember her."
"I know," Joyce said, choking back her own sob. "I kind of already knew… that she was on your mind that is."
"You did?" Max looked puzzled, trying to figure out how Joyce had known.
"Of course I did. It's kind of hard not to recognize Long Max Silver."
"Huh?"
Joyce gestured towards Max's head, and it was then that Max realized she was still wearing her bandana.
"Oh." She turned looking for and finding a mirror on the wall behind her. Not only did she still have her bandana on, but her eyepatch was still there, even if pushed aside from her temple so that the patch hid partially beneath her hair. How zoned out had she been not to notice that she was still dressed up?
"Dog," she said. "I could have sworn I took these off."
"Guess not. Now, how about we get you back to your table and your cake. Pretty sure my other tables are about ready to mutiny."
Max chuckled, attempting to play off her embarrassment, but she couldn't do anything about the blush in her cheeks. "Okay, Joyce."
Uplifted as she felt after finally coming around and seeing Chloe's mom, again, Max felt a twinge of displeasure as well. Her piece said, and her guilt softened, there were a couple someones waiting on the other side of that door that she needed to be taken down a peg or two.
As Joyce led her back into the diner proper, Max popped her eyepatch back over her eye with a snap and a very pointed glare directly at Victoria and Taylor. The two immediately erupted in laughter.
After a belabored moment trying to keep a straight face, Max cracked, and burst into laughter as well. She couldn't help it. It felt good.
She felt... good?
No. It was more that. She felt...
She felt happy. Actually, truly, happy.
