The sun kisses the top of the distant horizon and splashes a blinding warm pallet across the waves and the grass. There's a bit of a chill in the air. You shiver and glance away from the water to the other bright light present: Kate. She only asked you to stop once so she could get out of the car and find this bench. In all the hours you've been talking, she hasn't stopped you otherwise. Gasped, yes. Cried, multiple times. Laughed, once or twice. But throughout she's just watched you and listened, asked a question when something didn't make sense, and let the whole story fall out of your mouth.
You're still on that bench now, feeling better and worse for having told the story. Kate might think you've absolutely lost your mind, but she didn't run away, and she didn't dismiss you. That's made the difference. She doesn't notice your gaze for a few more minutes, still looking out over the water as tear-tracks slowly dry and the sun paints lost color on her cheeks.
"I…"
You put an arm around her shoulders and lean against her.
"I…"
You can't bring yourself to say anything.
"I… wanted them to suffer like I had."
The words are so faint that the breeze might have stolen them if you hadn't been listening closely.
"I thought about doing it quietly. So it would just stop. So I wouldn't have to think about it or hear about it anymore. And then Chloe and Nathan and Mr. Jefferson and Rachel and it was all so much and people were so sorry and my parents and your parents and…"
She's rambling now, tears welling fresh in her eyes and relining the nearly dried traces from before.
"But the next day I…"
You lift your head and start to open your mouth, but she wipes her tears away with the wet hem of her sleeve, shakes her head, and keeps talking.
"I wasn't going to do it, Max. The truth was out and I wasn't going to do it, but… I got so angry at how everyone was suddenly so sorry like they hadn't been saying and writing horrible things just the day before. I got so angry that I wanted them to suffer like I had and… and… I thought about it. Going on that roof and making their lives hell too…"
Kate's voice fails and she squeezes her eyes shut, tears running freely now. She tries to open her mouth again, but her lips won't part and she just shakes her head and shudders, covering her face with her hands. You put your other arm around her and hold her close.
You can't think of what to say either.
The fire moves from the water to the sky as the sun finishes sinking below the horizon. All around the electric blaze of the city moves to be the pale nighttime imitation of the just-departed orb. Kate has stilled. Silence still hangs heavy around the two of you there on the bench in the park. Kate coughs softly and unpins her arm from between the two of you and puts it around your shoulders.
"I'll be honest, Max, I don't know if I believe you or not." Soft, still words aching with pain and kindness.
After a moment, you nod and feel tears in your eyes. Of course she wouldn't believe you. Warren says he does, but you've never known for sure.
"I mean… I don't know what I mean, Max. Because I don't want to believe you. I don't. I don't want to think about all those horrible things happening and only you being the one to remember them."
"There were good parts too." You croak out just as softly. "I got to be a superhero for my best friend for a week."
"And that's why I believe you. I know you, Max. I could see it in your eyes and in your heart. You're just the kind of person who would get the power to manipulate time and use it to help other people."
The tears well hot and insistent and in a heartbeat you can't hold them in any longer. You can feel them rolling down your cheeks and lean into Kate, burying your face in her offered shoulder. It feels good to cry now. To let the pain and weight flow freely away onto someone you've wanted to tell for so long but never could for fear. And now that the fear hasn't come to be, and instead she's a beacon of hope and acceptance. "But I couldn't help her. Not-not in the end."
Kate folds you in her loving arms and rocks gently with you as the tears soak her shirt. She doesn't speak at first and fear begins to creep back in with prickling little needle fingers until she finally breaks the silence.
"I think you did. Max, I don't know how that power worked. I don't know how a lot of things work. But I believe that if you remember it, then it really happened and that she knows about it now. If Chloe were here, I'm sure she'd be thanking you for trying. For doing everything you could to try and save her. For not giving up on her."
Your eyes squeeze shut more tightly and you sniffle, trying to keep the stains on Kate's shirt to just tears. "You really think so?"
She nods and rests her cheek against the top of your head. "I do, Max. I really do. I think she knows and she'd be the first to tell you to stop blaming yourself for what happened. But I don't think it's her forgiveness you're looking for. You have to forgive yourself, Max."
She's right. You know she's right. It's something you've been hiding from, running from. Trying to make it all your fault because if it's all your fault, then you can believe the best about Chloe. You can pretend that nothing would have happened if you hadn't been there. That everything would have worked out, that she wouldn't have died. Because if it's your fault, then you could still fix it if you had the courage. If you were willing to sacrifice everyone else. And because it's easier to hate yourself forever and live in that moment than it is to let go and try to move forward.
Darkness falls and the park lights spread pools of false daylight, like the false hope that somehow you can fix everything. That you can one day figure out a way to cheat fate and save everyone. Silence spreads with the darkness, broken only by the distant sounds of traffic and the few nighttime parkgoers. Kate doesn't say anything, just holds you and sits with you, letting you think and process, letting you decide if she's right or not, letting you simply bask in the warmth and kindness of a friend who accepts you.
"I don't know if I can." You admit after a long time. The tears in your eyes have dried up and even Kate's shirt doesn't show much sign of the flood so recently soaking it. Pulling away from Kate's arms gently, you sit up, sniffle again, and look out over the water. It sparkles in the night's faint lights.
Kate nods and bites her lower lip. She's thinking too. Nods again and smiles. Her eyes overflow with concern and love. "That's okay. It's okay if you can't right now. Just… try, alright? I know we don't believe the same things, Max, but I believe you had those powers for a reason, even if that was just to give Chloe something good to remember afterwards."
What can you say to that? There's no words that you can say without sounding bitter and dismissive. You almost laugh at the thought that It's now Kate trying to convince you that everything will be alright. Even though you know it can't be and won't be and you can feel an itch in the back of your brain that wants to go stare at the picture of a butterfly on a metal pail and torture yourself for the crime of inaction. The crime of betrayal. You think of the frozen pack of cigarettes, all stale and awful and how you've secretly hoped that they'll give you cancer to that you can suffer like Chloe did, slowly and terribly for being too afraid to save her.
"Max, stop." Kate shakes you. Her voice is firm and commanding. "Max, stop right now. I know you're trying to blame yourself and it's not right. Please, Max, please."
You don't respond. You can't respond. Because you know what's right and what you want to do and they are not the same. Even this is a way to torture yourself. Refusing to do what's right.
"Max, please." Her voice is soft now, pleading. You can hear the tears in her eyes as she clings to you, offering herself as a life preserver in the storm of self-hatred that tosses you within it right now.
"I-I… I can't, Kate. I just can't. You don't, you don't understand."
You can feel her body stiffen and you know she's praying and wishing that she could say the right things. But there aren't any right things to be said now. Nothing she can say will get through the swirling self-hatred and voices screaming cowardice at you.
But then you're surprised. Because there is something that can break through.
"Max… you need to talk to Victoria about this."