A/N: I have officially plotted this ENTIRE story, so I know everything that's going to happen all the way to the end. Wasn't expecting the story to last this long, but hey, I am invested. So buckle up because I have quite a few chapters planned :)

Also, from now on, anytime you see a chapter saying "Part #", just know it was meant to be one chapter, but ended up being split in two.

Penitence Part I

Also, from now on, anytime you see a chapter saying "Part #", just know it was meant to be one chapter, but ended up being split in two.

Max didn't sleep a wink that night. How could she? Shame had her within its vicious claws so tight that every time she closed her eyes, Billy's contorted face of anguish appeared over and over again.

No more, no more, no more. His cries echoed in her head, sharp like the power cord Neil had used to punish him. Even when day had finally broken, she remained under her covers, a vacant stare at her window, her back to her door. How will I face him? Yet something didn't quite feel right about lying in bed all day when she wasn't the one who had suffered the beating of a lifetime.

She couldn't shake the guilt. It nested deep within her bones, and she wondered if it would be permanently fused there forever. This entire situation was undeniably her fault, and all because she let her emotions get the best of her. She was so mad, so blinded with anger. All she had wanted was to get petty revenge, to enact a harmless prank that would show him she wasn't to be messed with anymore. How was she supposed to know Neil would go that far off the deep end? And the power cord . . . She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to wipe the image from her mind.

No . . . She couldn't lie to herself about this. She knew there was a good chance that Billy would get into serious trouble, and the idea hadn't swayed her to act differently. There was a part of her that wanted to see him hurt in some way, if not emotionally then physically so that he'd suffer as she had. And she let it out, unlocked the doors, and hid the keys, turning a blind eye to her morals just to get back at him. And now look what happened? Would there be permanent marks on his skin like there were now on her soul? I didn't even say anything . . . I just sat there . . .

Max sunk further into her white bedsheets, wanting to disappear. Billy's screams, his tears . . . She might not have been the one swinging the belt or that damned cord, but she was the one who had tormented him. That's what it felt like every time she closed her eyes and his face appeared. She was the wielder delivering his pain with each snap of that cord; in turn, that sinking feeling continued to blossom in the pit of her stomach. Billy always looked for a way to mess with her, and now she had stooped to his level, maybe even a level lower. She had gone against all her goals of being nice, of learning not to be him. Because she had been like him, but now she was like Neil, wasn't she? Like father, like son, like stepsister . . .

No more, no more, no more.

Max shuddered at the memory and bit her lip to keep from crying. I'm a terrible person, she thought.

Eventually, Max rose from her bed, went to the bathroom, and saw the heavy bags under her eyes. The guilt was painted right there on her skin, staring back at her. Would anyone else be able to see it too? She felt lost, like she had to do something. If only turning back time was an option—she'd do things differently. She needed to shout her misdeeds to the world and beg for forgiveness at the same time . . . to cleanse away that awful feeling brewing inside of her.

She sprayed water on her face to keep the tears away. No crying, Max. You don't get to cry.

After brushing her teeth, she walked softly down the halls. The house was quiet. Almost ominous after the events of last night. You could feel it in the air, the thick tension. She hated it—the way last night had bled over into the new day, disrupting everyone's Sunday routines. It only added to the severity of her guilt.

No more, no more, no more.

Max stopped short of Billy's room. A small voice in her head, the one not smothered in guilt, desperately wanted to blame Billy. He was the reason she did what she did . . . His sheer determination to treat her so terribly had finally caused all that pent-up fury she'd been holding in from the years of his mistreatment to burst—No. She shoved the thought out of her head and sighed. She'd gone way too far getting back at Billy, and she knew it. There was no justifying that. Now Billy would miss the concert he so desperately wanted to go to. She'd never seen him want anything so badly before.

Billy must really hate me. She wouldn't blame him. But for some reason, the idea still hurt. I don't want him to hate me . . .

Max went back to her room, not sure what to do. She thought about working on fixing the scrapbook but didn't want to think about how this all began. And she was too unfocused to read her comics let alone study, and she didn't feel like talking to Lucas or anyone about this. Even as time passed, she did nothing.

Billy was moping in his room all day. Not once did she hear him leave.

Finally, the guilt ate her up. Ugh, she was sick and tired of feeling so much guilt because of him. Or . . . her depending on how she looked at it. She needed to talk to someone. She needed to do something before the guilt consumed her whole.

Max walked towards the living room where the soft sounds of the TV played. She already knew she'd find Neil in there as soon as she turned the corner. He was always there lounging on the couch on Sundays, and eventually, there'd be a permanent impression left behind in the cushions. She needed to find her mother, to speak with her privately . . . away from Neil.

Max peeked her head around the corner and sure enough, Neil was on the couch with his feet propped up as he watched the news. He rolled his shoulders, and a small grimace came over his face as he exhaled. Sore from last night, asshole? She shook her head, thankful her mom wasn't there.

Max slipped past like a ghost to avoid saying good morning–it was anything but–and headed for the kitchen to see if her mother was in there. But it was empty, and she let out a frustrated sigh. Wait. Sunday . . . Laundry day.

She headed towards the laundry room and sure enough, her mom was bending over to take Max's sheets from the dryer. Neil never did laundry and never set foot in the room, so it was the perfect place for a private conversation.

"Morning, mom."

Susan gasped and jumped slightly, placing a hand on her chest. She relaxed when she saw Max. "Oh, morning to you too, sweetie. Sorry, I must be a little jumpy."

After last night, who wouldn't be?

Max watched her mom lightly exhale to gather herself. She had heard that mama lions and mama bears would mess you up if you ever hurt their cubs, but her mom was useless when it came to being fierce and protective. She was extremely timid and sensitive. Passive. Helpless. Max never wanted to be like that. And other times, she just wanted to protect her and keep her safe from the real world.

But sometimes, her mom surprised her, like last night when she yelled at Neil. Usually, she'd pretend it didn't happen. Like she was in her own world to hide from the reality that was right in front of her. But after last night, Max understood a little. She was right there with her mother in that moment witnessing everything, frozen, unable to say anything.

No, I could have, she thought. I was just afraid too.

"Mom," Max said, snapping herself out of her thoughts. "I . . . I need a favor."

"Yeah, what is it?"

Max swallowed, shifting on her feet. "Can . . . Can we go shopping . . . like right now? I just . . . I need to get out of the house . . ."

Susan's face softened, and Max could tell she understood.

"Sure, sweetie," she said in a soothing tone. "Just let me finish this up, and I'll go ask Neil."

"Just–" Max lowered her voice. "Just us two."

Susan paused, then nodded. Max returned the nod and headed back to her room to get dressed. After a few minutes, she peeked around the corner as she watched Susan timidly approach Neil on the couch.

"Honey," she said softly. "I want to take Max shopping with me. You know, a little mother-daughter day. Do you think . . . I could take the car?" She paused then quickly added. "I wouldn't want you to exert yourself after last–" She cleared her throat. "After being out all day yesterday for me."

Max held her breath. Neil never let her mom drive his truck. Ever. He saw driving as a man's job and would be damned if he let anyone touch his baby. But since he didn't care about the rental, she hoped he'd say yes.

Neil thought for a moment, barely taking his eyes from the TV. He gave a brisk nod. "Keys are in the jacket. And pick me up some more beer while you're out."

"Sure." She gave him a peck on the cheek and quietly excused herself.

Max let out a sigh of relief. Before she knew it, they were both dressed, sitting in the Chevette, and heading down the road. Her mom was shaking a little, not having driven since California.

"So where did you have in mind?" she asked.

Max bit her lip. "The record store."

"Record store? Since when have you been interested in that?"

Max said nothing, but stared down at her lap, fiddling with her hands. She snuck a glance at her mom. Please just say yes. The less you ask, the better.

Susan knitted her brows, then they raised as though a wave of understanding flooded her brain at once. "Maxine . . . no, I can't–"

"Mom, please. I just want to see if it will still be possible to get tickets after today."

"OK, but even if there were tickets left, I can't buy them. Those cost an arm and a leg."

"Well, can we just drive by and see?"

"Max–"

"Please?"

Susan looked between Max and the road, moving her lips, but saying nothing. Finally, she sighed. "Alright."

Susan steered the car around until they were downtown. As they drove past, they saw a line a mile long with a motley crowd of people rocking Metallica t-shirts and pumped expressions. And it was already after 12. Max's heart sank. There was no way she could wait in that line.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Max." Her mom paused. "We can still go shopping if you want. Anywhere you want to go."

She thought for a moment. "Can you take me back to that road from yesterday?"

"What road?"

"The one Neil stopped at."

Her eyes went wide. "W-Why–? What . . . Max, that's a long drive. I can't just–"

"Please?"

Susan was quiet. She gently pulled the car to the side and put it in park before turning to look at Max, a soft but stern expression on her face. "Maxine, what is this all about?"

It felt like a stupid question to Max. Max knew her mother wouldn't mention last night. She never brought up the spats between Neil and Billy. Forever inside her own world.

"Nothing."

"It's not just nothing. Please talk to me–"

"Mom . . . Please?" The truth was there, brewing on her tongue, but she couldn't form the words. Just spit them out. Just tell her.

Susan was resigned to the look in Max's eyes. Without a word, she started driving again. No one spoke as they entered Indy, passing the restaurant from last night. Susan slowed as they approached the road. Max ran her eyes over every bit, waiting for the object she was searching for to appear, Billy's voice echoing in her head even louder than before.

No more, no more, no more.

"There," Max said, pointing off into the distance.

Susan turned the corner in a slow crawl, her brows furrowed with confusion as to what Max was seeing that she couldn't. "I don't understand why–"

"Right here. Stop."

Her mother pulled to the side of the road, and Max immediately hopped out, not bothering to even shut the car door.

"Wait, Max!"

She went to the radio, crouching down to take a closer look. It was a miracle no one stole it. But when she flipped it over it was clear why; the thing was totaled, chipped to bits. She picked it up, opening the compartment. The tape was gone. Where was the tape? Max quickly scanned the area, her eyes frantic. Please, be here.

There.

Just as she moved to the grass to retrieve it, Susan rushed up, turning her head left and right as though a car would come barreling out of nowhere. Her eyes were wide with fear as she looked Max over as if she'd have injuries or something.

"Maxine! Don't ever run out like that again! You could get hit."

Susan froze when Max turned around with the radio and Metallica cassette tape in her hands. Max stared at her with a wounded expression, and she already knew that her mom knew she was going to ask for another favor. But she wouldn't say no, and Max knew she'd have to take advantage.

. . .

The radio store in Indianapolis was much larger than the one in Hawkins, at least she assumed from the two stories. Everything seemed larger. Bulkier. More spread out. Max twiddled her thumbs as the clerk named Dwight stared at Billy's shattered radio. He cupped his elbow with one hand and pinched his chin with the other as though in deep thought. He raised a brow and tossed Max a curious look when he noticed the power cord missing.

"Sorry, kid," the man sighed, giving it a small poke. "You're better off just buying a new radio instead of trying to fix this one."

"How much are the new ones?" Susan asked.

"For another Panasonic. . . Cheapest ones we got are . . . $150, give or take."

Susan and Max sighed. It was worth a shot.

Max twirled the Metallica tape in her hands. Dwight smiled and pointed to it. "You know those guys are great. Didn't think a little girl like you would be into them. They're having their Ride the Lightning tour soon here over at Market Square Arena, you know?"

Max gulped. Of course she knew. Billy is never going to forgive me now.

Dwight laughed. "Wish I could have snagged some tickets. Those things sold like hotcakes. Sold out at the box office in less than 4 hours. Crazy."

Unable to hear anymore, Max turned to leave.

"Wait. You want me to toss this for you?" Dwight said, pointing at the radio.

Max gave a brisk nod, and quickly exited, her mom rushing after her as she thanked the clerk. Max got in the car and slumped, staring down at the cassette as she twirled it. There wasn't going to be a simple way to fix what she'd done. To smooth things over. Besides . . .

What's a tape without a radio?

"Max, are you okay?" Susan asked when she got in, a soft look of concern on her face.

Silence. No, I'm not okay. None of this is okay.

"We could check the pawn shop. I'm sure they'll have cheap radios there."

Max shook her head. "Billy doesn't like used things."

Billy had said that about women before, so she assumed it applied to everything else. She didn't expect her mother to just understand. Billy loved that radio . . . Being grounded from it was one thing, but for it to be smashed to pieces? A whole other thing entirely . . . A cheap replacement would be like pouring gasoline onto an already burning fire.

"Well, what about a small cassette player?"

"Can we just go home?"

Susan sighed. She nodded, started the car, and pulled away.

"Sorry you didn't find what you were looking for," she said after a few minutes in. "I'm sure Billy would have loved it."

"But Neil would have gotten angry and broken it again."

Silence.

Why did you ever get with a man like that? Max thought. Out of all the men her mother's ever dated, Neil was the worst. Why did she pick this for us?

"Neil . . . has his charms . . . and he means well," Susan said, almost reading her mind. "He can be very bold, assertive . . . But he does go overboard sometimes . . . But this . . ." Her voice trailed off as she shook her head. "I don't like how he beats that poor boy."

Max turned to her, surprised she said it aloud. She said it softly like it was a secret. Even miles away from Neil, she was still cautious of him.

She caught herself. "Sorry. Sorry, I'm rambling." Her hands clutched the steering wheel as though she was afraid Neil could somehow hear her speaking ill of him. Her lips pressed into a thin line. What was happening in that world of hers where she hid so comfortably?

Max thought of Billy's words. " . . . just because Neil hasn't punched you in the face yet." She remembered the harsh slaps to his face from last night.

No more, no more, no more.

"Do you ever think he'll hit me like that? Like he did Billy . . . last night?" Max chewed on her nail as the words came out mumbled. She carefully watched her mother's face for a reaction. You wouldn't let him hurt me, would you?

Susan snatched her eyes from the road, a horrified expression on her face. She stumbled over her words before saying, "I . . . I wouldn't even consider it."

"You're telling me you never considered it?"

Susan opened her mouth, but said nothing. So she had.

Max felt something strange form in her chest at her mom's silence. "What would you do if he did?"

"Don't even say stuff like that, Maxine . . . He's not going to . . . After all these years . . . Never. I promise you . . ." Her tone was unsure, a direct contrast to the words spewing from her lips. That feeling brewing in Max's chest got worse. She'd cried out for Neil to stop last night with Billy, but only once it had become too much to bear . . . Would the same happen if he turned his fists or belt towards Max? She shuddered at the thought. Her mom would protect her . . . She hoped she'd protect her.

Sometimes, Max wondered if she hated her mom for choosing this life for them. To pick Neil knowing how he acted . . . how he treated Billy. She did nothing, escaping into her own little world anytime he lashed out at Billy. It was easier to turn a blind eye than to be confrontational. Would she turn away if Max was the one being punished? Cover her ears and close her eyes and wait for it to be over?

Yeah . . . The truth settled deep inside her bones. Max knew her mom hated confrontation and brushed problems under the rug. And it hurt. It hurt because, in her heart of hearts, Max knew if Neil were to swing at her, her mom would do nothing. She might yell and scream, but she'd do nothing to stop it from happening. Nothing that would count.

Max dropped her eyes. "He might if he finds out."

"Finds out what, sweetie?"

She paused, biting her lip. Just say it . . . Tell her the truth, Max! "It's my fault Billy got in trouble." Her heart took off like a rocket, and she knew this was it. What happened next was in her mother's hands.

"Why would you say that?"

Max hesitated. "I . . . I set the times on his watch and alarm clock back one hour . . . And busted his tire."

Susan's eyes fluttered trying to process what she just heard. "You . . . popped his tire?" She said unsure if she believed it.

Max nodded. "With a kitchen knife."

"So . . . Billy's car trouble . . .

Max slowly nodded.

"Maxine–"

"I know. I was trying to tell you at the table yesterday, but . . . I got scared. You see, I made this gift for you, but Billy just tore it up right in my face. I just . . . I got so angry at him and the way he's been treating me, I just . . . I . . ."

Max's lip quivered, feeling the emotions from that day arise again. But it slowly ebbed, replaced with her shame as tears glided down her face. Susan gave a sympathetic look, glancing between her and the road.

"That makes me a bad person, doesn't it?" Max said.

"No. No, Max. It just . . . it just means you're hurt. You both are."

Max paused. "Are you gonna tell Neil?"

"No. No, of course not."

She exhaled, slightly relieved to hear that, but her shoulder still tensed. "I feel so bad, mom. I've never seen Billy cry like that. He's usually so quiet when it happens . . . I just . . . I wanted to make it up to him." Max wiped away the tears that fell down her cheeks. If he'll let me make it up to him that is.

"All that he's done and you still chose to do something nice for him?"

"I wouldn't call it nice, mom. Nothing about this is nice. I feel like I have to." She paused. "I can't . . . I can't take this regret anymore. It feels like I'm suffocating."

Susan said nothing for a moment, gathering her thoughts. "I think it's good you want to make things right. I know it's hard trying to show kindness towards someone who seems undeserving of it. It takes strength to be kind to people who act–"

"Like dicks?"

"Maxine . . ."

Max sniffed.

"No . . . People who act . . . lost. People who only show what they've been taught. No one is bad for no reason." She paused. "But you're strong. If you really want to make a difference. Be consistent and persist. But don't do things out of guilt. That's a well that's hard to get out of. Instead, do it because you want things to be different. To be better. Forgive yourself and move on. Do better next time. If you say you'll change then mean it. Prove it to yourself." She smiled. "I know you can do it."

Max stared at her mom, completely stunned. Her mom usually ranted about ways to change Max. To be the girly girl she always wanted. But the woman sitting beside her right now wasn't the same. This was another moment where her mother surprised her. In some ways, it felt like her mother was trying to encourage herself more than Max, but she'd take it all the same.

Max gave a faint smile. "You're strong too, mom."

Susan's face was still before shifting to a clamor of confusion. Then rested on that helpless expression again. She gave a hesitant smile, and Max could tell she didn't believe it. But then something flashed across her face again and Max waited.

It was silent for a moment before Susan finally decided to speak. "If . . . someone . . . anyone ever puts their hands on you, Max . . . I want you to tell me, okay?" She glanced over at Max. There was this serious look in her eyes that Max had never seen before. It almost felt strange to have her mother looking at her like that, and all she could do was nod. "I mean it, Maxine. Even one finger . . . you tell me . . . You won't have anything to worry about, understand?"

"Yes, Mom, I understand."

Susan gave her a nod in return, and the car grew quiet again. Her mom was timid and unspoken, but with those words, that unease in her chest eased. She felt lighter . . . almost reassured even. Perhaps her mother would protect her after all.

And here I thought I got my grit from my Dad.

To be continued . . .