I am a big fan of the Max Payne series. I remember playing the first two games on my computer and having a blast with them. Though I have yet to play the third installment, I was intrigued by the story of Max Payne, with the character dealing with personal grief and revenge against the people who murdered his family, and Max Payne had become one of my all-time favorite video game characters. Sadly, James McCaffrey, the voice actor behind Max Payne, had passed away on December 17th after a long-term battle with cancer and that made me very upset, so I wanted to pay tribute to him by making a one-shot paying homage to the series.
This fic takes place after Max Payne 2: The Fall of Max Payne, but before Max Payne 3, and it will be told from Max's perspective, just like in the games.
Disclaimer: I do not own the Max Payne series. It belongs to Rockstar, Remedy and Sam Lake.
Golgotha Cemetery, New Jersey
December 25th
Christmas.
It's funny. I don't recall the last time I celebrated such an occasion. I certainly didn't celebrate with my parents during my youth. My mother had been busy drinking herself to death, while my sick bastard of a father was cheating on her and treated me and her like crap. The only person who was there for me during that time was my grandfather, Harold. He blamed himself for what happened to his daughter and resented how my father treated her. After her death, Harold cut ties with him and eventually took me on as his son. I had been very greatful for grandpa for taking care of me and supporting me during these hard times. I wish he was there with me right now...
And I wasn't even able to celebrate it with Michelle and Rose when they were alive. Well, if only...
Every time I remember them, I couldn't help but recall the memories of that fateful day passing by in my head. Michelle's desperate beg for help. Rose's corpse on her baby bed. Michelle lying dead on the bed, her blood covering most of the sheet. Even when I tried to move on from her, these memories came rushing back, as I couldn't forgive myself for what happened to them that night. That kept me motivated to seek the truth on my own, even when the odds were against me, but even that didn't bring them back. I hate to admit it, but maybe Horne was right. Maybe nothing I had done made it better. In fact, it made me feel empty on the inside. That's why I was drawn to Mona, as she was the only hope for a normal, happy life after everything I've went through, but that hope was taken from me.
Never thought I'd see the day I'd agree with the Witch for once.
I had envisioned a life where Michelle was still alive, holding out little baby and waiting for me while I was at work. I would come back home and opened the door to see Michelle greet me, telling me how my job was. Then I would reach out to her and kiss her on the cheek while sitting beside her and cradling our sweet little girl. Our Rose. Had the killer junkies not invade our home, had they not robbed everything from me, we would have enjoyed our life as a stable, strong family. Of course, it wasn't meant to be, but I kept wondering to myself at that every single day.
I had promised to her that I would visit her gravestone everyday, paying respects to her and Rose, though my job had prevented me from doing so. Between working with the DEA and the NYPD, I couldn't find the right time to visit her, but at least I had to visit her on the Holidays. Last time I went there, Alex had accompanied me, as he was a good friend to our family. It was during Christmas, just right before we found out about the Punchinellos' connection to Valkyr. Like me, he, too, was affected by Michelle and Rose's deaths and felt guilty about not being there to help me during that day. I remember what Alex had told me during that night, when he reached out to me.
"You've saved my life many times when we worked at the force together, Max. I would have done anything to return the favor."
I could tell from the tone of his voice, Alex felt remorse for not being there for me during that night. I wasn't sure if him being there could have prevented my family's death. Even he was by side, the results would have been the same.
Alex was the only person who had understood my pain of losing Michelle and Rose and tried to help me turn my life around. It broke my heart when he was killed in front of me years later. That was the moment where I stopped caring about the Valkyr case and bring the people responsible to justice the old-fashioned way, but rather, giving in to my personal desires and killing them one by one.
Right now, I was walking to the cemetery where Michelle was buried, having just finished another drinking session at Walton's Bar and taken the bus to North Bergen. I thought the alcohol and painkillers could make me forget about her or at least suppress her memory temporarily, but they still made things worse, as it only amplified my grief even further. I didn't know what to do with my life now that I was no longer working with police, and at this point, I didn't care either. I remember Bravura telling me to leave the city and take a vacation, but I wasn't in the right mood to take his advice.
As I kept walking to the cemetery, I had looked over to the see the gravestones of the people I had encountered in my life who had died because of my actions. Wooden, Winterson, Gognitti, Mona, Alex. Seeing their gravestones brought back the painful memories, the anger, the suffering, the sadness. I had then turned my head around and stopped upon reaching my wife and daughter's gravestone. The gravestone was marked with words:
Payne
Beloved Wife
Michelle
5-12-1964 8-22-1998
Cherished Daughter
Rose
2-4-1998 8-22-1998
I was holding a bouquet of white flowers in my hand as I slowly kneeled down and placed the bouquet on the gravestone, before turning my head and looking at her. I could picture her standing in front of me as as I was looking at the gravestone.
"Merry Christmas, Michelle." I told her.
Just as I was looking at her grave, tears started coming out of my eyes. I couldn't try to fight them off, as I laid my head down and began to sob. As I was crying, the snow was falling fast, covering the place as the wind was carrying them around. In the years since their deaths, I hated myself for not being there to protect them and I wished I had died as well. Well, that day isn't here yet.
"I'm so sorry." I whispered while I was crying.
In the memory of:
James Perry McCaffery
March 27th, 1958 - December 17th, 2023
And that's the end of the story. I'll admit this was pretty painful to write and there might be some errors, but I had tried my best to make Max in-character as possible and emulate Max's narration from the games as it was one of my favorite aspects of the games.
Let me know your thoughts on the first chapter of the story and I hope you enjoyed it. Stay safe everyone and take care.
