Work Text:
i.
Chloe runs her finger along a random Californian road on the tattered map laid out on the table in front of her. She glances across the table at Rachel, who is sipping at her beer and staring at their names marked across the wall with a smile on her face. The fading sun falls over her delicate form, bathing her in a wonderful saffron glow. The blue-haired girl stares back down at the road she’s been tracing and smiles.
One day, she’ll have this exact same view of Rachel as they travel down a dusty California road. The sun will be setting, reflecting orange and yellow over the sparkling cerulean ocean. Rachel will be curled up against Chloe’s car door. Her hair will be caught in the salty, cool air, exposing the bare areas of her chest that her flannel won’t cover. The gold glow of the sun will be falling over her just as it is now, illuminating her wonderfully soft skin. She’ll go to adjust the radio with her free hand, a cigarette held between her fingers on the other. And Chloe will reach for that free hand, taking it in hers and bringing it up to her lips for a soft, gentle kiss. Rachel will turn to her with a smile, joyful laughter bubbling in her throat as she strokes the back of Chloe’s hand with her thumb.
The scene is so vivid in her mind. If she closes her eyes for just a moment, she’s there, she can smell the ocean breeze. She can feel Rachel’s palm against hers, and the warm feeling that it brings to her chest. She finds solace in the idea that they’ll be there, someday. Because they are more than just a time and a place. Rachel is always at her fingertips. If Chloe hopped in the truck with nothing but the change in her pocket and a dream, Rachel would follow shortly after. She knows this is true.
It has to be.
Chloe is pulled from her thoughts when Rachel gets up suddenly. The brunette heads over to an old radio they found a while ago, picking it up from it’s spot on a wooden crate to fiddle with it. Dissatisfied with the silence that has overtaken them, she searches for a station with a clear signal. Chloe lets out a drunken chuckle as she watches her struggle. But, eventually, Rachel manages to find a station that comes in just fine. She sets it back down on the crate, allowing it to fill their space with a slow indie song. Rachel begins to move with the music, swaying her hips gently.
At first, Chloe encourages her through jokes and sarcastic remarks while she takes sips from her beer. Then Rachel is right in front of her, slotting her nimble hand in Chloe’s and pulling her onto the makeshift dance floor. Chloe stumbles forward, feeling extremely awkward, and Rachel takes her beer from her and sets in down next to the radio. The song changes, and Rachel takes the opportunity to coax Chloe into a slow dance, putting her arms around Chloe’s neck. The blue-haired girl nervously places her hands on Rachel’s hips. She swallows hard, as her throat suddenly seems very dry. Rachel looks up at Chloe with a smile on her face and laughs at her confused expression, swaying them back and forth. Chloe stares at Rachel, focusing on what is happening because she wants to be able to remember every moment of this dance. Like the warm touch of Rachel’s fingertips at the base of her neck. Or the light sparkling in Rachel’s eyes. The glossy pink of her lips. She wants to memorize every element, slotting it away in her private memories.
Rachel leans against Chloe, singing the song under her breath. “ Light reflects from your shadow, it is...more than I thought could exist.”
Chloe recognizes the song, but she pretends not to know the words. She would rather sway back and forth, listening to Rachel’s voice in her ear. She rests her cheek against the brunette’s temple, taking pleasure in the way Rachel’s body seems to fit so perfectly against hers.
“You move through the room, like breathing was easy. If someone believed me, they would be as in love...with you…as I am..”
They would be...as in love...with you...as I am...
ii.
Calloused fingertips brush the skin of her stomach, making her recoil with disgust. He pretends not to notice, running his rough, ugly hands up her sides and trailing up her arms. She’s gripping her cup so hard she’s worried the plastic might turn to dust in her palm. He smells like sweat, weed, beer, and some cologne that’s probably worth thousands. He forces her cup back to her lips, and she sips at it without making a fuss. She doesn’t look at him, she just stares up at the ceiling and watches the way it seems to move. She isn’t sure how much she’s been drinking, but it feels like a little too much.
She thinks she mentions something about wanting to leave, but she can’t hear her own voice over the crowd.
Next thing she knows, she’s outside. The cold air feels good against her skin, as she finds that the world is much too warm for her liking. Her legs feel like jelly, and he helps her along. To where? She doesn’t know. But she does know that she hates the way his hands feel when they touch her. The cold sensation brings back vague memories of warm hands.
Warm hands that belong there.
Next thing she knows she is on the floor, and he just keeps touching her. And it keeps feeling so wrong. It keeps reminding her that his body isn’t the one that fits hers. No, that’s a space she saved for someone else. Someone else that, despite whatever is preventing her from doing so, she is desperately trying to remember.
A light flashes in front of her eyes, and she remembers a face.
A ghost.
She pushes him away, stifling a scream.
iii.
The bed shifts next to her, but she ignores it, choosing to keep her eyes closed. She woke up a few minutes ago, and she needs another few to be ready to open her eyes and face the day. Then she feels Max’s weight shift once more, making it clear that the brunette is awake. She opens her eyes, glancing over at Max. The girl has a camera in her hand. Her dad’ s camera.
The thought brings a smile to her face.
She moves quickly, right behind Max’s shoulder, with a shout of “Photobomb!”
Max chuckles, leaning into Chloe and jokingly accusing “Photo hog!”
The light flashes, and the camera makes a whirring noise that lets the two of them know they’ve commemorated this moment forever. Knowing that Max would want to keep a memory of her forever gives her a warm feeling. The blue-haired girl lies back down, gazing up at the brunette.
Max, illuminated by the red haze coming from her window, looks absolutely amazing. Chloe wonders if Max always looks like this when she wakes up. She’s so put together, almost like she never slept at all. Max sighs happily (at least Chloe hopes that was a happy sigh), “It feels like a different world from yesterday..”
A different world indeed. But Chloe likes this world. Likes that, in this world, she gets to have Max with her. Because being with Max is like always being at home.
“We left a skid mark on Blackwell last night.” She mentions it casually. It’s great to know that in their adventure for the truth, they defaced the school. Even though it wasn’t a large blemish.
“Like it needs another one.” Max smiles, turning to her. Chloe catches the sparkle in her eyes, but senses that Max is about to turn very serious. “I want to do something good for my school and Arcadia Bay...I can’t even submit my photo to represent...I just don’t want to be rejected..”
It reminds her of the old Max. So scared. So shy. Always afraid to show how passionate she is about something in fear of being ridiculed. It makes her heart ache. “Every great artist gets rejected before they get accepted. So you have to enter a photo.”
“Even though I’m pimping the school and the town you wanna torch?” Max questions. The brunette tries to play it off as a joke, but Chloe can hear the doubt in her voice.
Chloe bites her tongue, trying to find words to say that aren’t along the lines of If you believe in something, I will be behind you. She can’t let Max know how far she’d go for her. Not yet. Not after what happened last time. “Come on, I don’t want Arcadia burned to the shore, I just say shit like that because I’ve been trying to get out of her since, since you left, basically.”
She tries to move past the last of her sentence quickly, hoping that she didn’t weird Max out. She doesn’t want Max to think she’s to blame for her much desired departure, even if it’s somewhat true. Chloe turn aways and mutters, “If I could find Rachel, I could pay Frank off, I’m still leaving to start a new life…”
She lies back with a sigh, hoping that Max doesn’t take it personally. She regrets her words and attempts to reconcile with a small “Wish we could hang out all morning like we used to.”
“Maybe we should get up, I have to get back to Blackwell soon.” Max mumbles. What Chloe said clearly made Max a little upset, and her heart gets stuck in her throat.
Chloe tries to play it off, making a joke about whether or not Max has a test today. Max makes a comment about how being at Blackwell seems to be a test in itself, and Chloe doesn’t try to make any more jokes. Neither of them say anything for a while, and Chloe watches as the brunette gets up on a search for something to wear, as her own clothes seem to be permeated with chlorine. She almost laughs when Max looks through her clothes and makes an almost immediate decision not to wear them.
Instead, Max heads to her closet. Chloe glances at Rachel’s clothes. For a moment, the sight makes her sad. But she ignores the feeling, exclaiming “Hey, there you go! Rachel left a bunch of her clothes with me. She’s your size.”
“But not my style.” Max comments. Chloe stifles a laugh. Max is so plain. It’s funny, and kind of adorable.
“Max, you don’t have a style yet. At least give it a try.” Max would look in Rachel’s clothes. And not just because they are Rachel’s clothes either, Max just always seems to look good. “You can always rewind back to your chlorine brand t-shirt and generic jeans.”
She gets up and stands next to Max, ignoring the clothes inside her closet so as not to rehash bad feelings.
Max laughs, “You suck! I like my shirt and jeans...but it would be cool to try on Rachel’s clothes...just to see if they fit.”
Chloe grabs the brunette by the arms, smile on her face. “Stop second guessing yourself, Max!”
Stop thinking that you’re lesser than others, you’re so much better than that.
“Put this on and let your inner rock girl come out! You can afford to take chances!”
Stop being so shy when you’re probably the best girl in any room that you step into.
“Whenever and whatever you want to try… for example, I dare you to kiss me!” And now she’s done it. Max looks at her like she’s crazy and her stomach twists.
“What?” Max questions.
“I double dare you. Kiss me now.”
Sometimes she wishes she weren’t so cocky. Because as soon as those words leave her mouth, she can’t help but feel like she just ruined one of the best things she could ever have. She can’t ignore the doubt. But she stands there, still smiling. Still hoping.
But then Max does it, Max kisses her. The brunette grabs her by the shoulders and presses her soft lips against Chloe’s, and her heart is beating so fast she can’t help but wonder if Max can feel it. She never expected Max to actually do it, she expected her to make a joke and turn to the closet with an uneasy look on her face.
But Max actually kissed her!
Chloe stumbles back in surprise, ruining the moment instead of savoring it. She curses herself and makes a half-hearted joke. “Damn, you’re hardcore, Max! Now I can text Warren and tell him he doesn’t stand a chance…unless he’s into girl on girl action”
Max tells Chloe she’s a dork, and Chloe just pretends she isn’t mentally counting the freckles dusted across Max’s nose and cheeks.
iv.
She remembers back to that night with Nathan and wonders about what would have happened if he had given her a bigger dose of whatever he fucked her up with.
Wonders if her memories with Rachel would forever be as hazy as they were then.
Wonders if it would have been better if they were that way.
v.
Chloe stops suddenly, skidding into the junkyard. The second the car stops, she hops out of the car and takes off into a sprint without a word. Anything she could say would probably get stuck in her throat anyway. Her head is spinning. She’s running so fast that the world is nothing but a colorful blur. She wants to curse the beauty of one of the worst places on the fucking planet Earth. Her lungs burn, and she keeps taking in deep, desperate gulps of the cold air, to no avail. Her heart is pounding in her ears, and she’s surprised it hasn’t fallen out of the gaping hole that’s been ripped into her chest. She can hear Max calling out to her, begging her to wait. To stop.
But she can’t, she can’t stop. Not when she’s so close to Rachel. So close to finding out the truth. She just screams back that she knows where to go.
She gets to the spot and her throat closes up, and she forces herself not to puke. She drops to her knees, “This is it! This is it!”
Chloe digs her hands into the wet earth violently, throwing it behind her. She screams at Max again, asking for help. She needs help. Rachel needs help.
Max drops to her knees, helping Chloe clear away the dirt. Chloe feels all her rage and sorrow building up in her throat as she keeps pushing the earth out of her way. She’s working in overdrive, practically throwing mounds of dirt out of her way. Because it all needs to be out of her way. It just needs to get out of the way. Why is everything always getting in her fucking way.
Her hands still when Max screams at her to stop. To look.
Her arms feel like lead weights attached to her body when she pulls them away from the dirt hole. They, along with the world’s weight on her shoulders, seem to drag her forward. Seem to force her to face what she doesn’t want to. Her eyes sting with angry, grief-ridden tears and she has to urge to scratch at her own throat to release a scream. She keeps uttering the same mantra in her head over and over. Rachel, my Rachel, please don’t be here. Don’t be buried here. Please, no please. Not my Rachel. Please no. Please.
She barely even recognizes her own voice when she whimpers the last bit aloud, as she’s too focused on the horror Max has begun to unearth before her.
A ghastly smell fills the air and Max recoils, jumping away from the hole and gagging. But Chloe keeps falling forward, putting her arms out to catch herself as she faces the truth.
“Rachel?” Chloe tries to twist away, tries to ignore it. But she can’t ignore it, and becomes locked in this battle of whether to look or collapse with grief. “Oh Rachel! No, no! Please Rachel! Please not her, please Rachel!”
She lurches away from the sight and begins to puke amongst the garbage. Tears stream down her face as her body begins to rack with sobs. She cradles herself in attempt to nurse the open wound that she’s just received, but it does little to still the emotions gushing out of it. Max stumbles over, place her arms around her shoulders in attempts to comfort her. Whispering apologies that Chloe has never wanted to hear again. Apologies that should have never been needed.
“I loved her so much! How could she be dead?” She wails, covering her face. “What kind of world does this? Who does this?!”
Max wraps her arms around her and she resists the urge to throw her off. Resists her desire to run over and throw herself onto the train tracks. Because what the fuck is there to live for now? Rachel is gone. Her love is gone. Her happiness is gone. Every good thing she received after the death of her father is ruined. It’s all fucking dead and gone.
vi.
The heel of her boot grounds down on the soft earth beneath her, almost getting her stuck. She manages to pull her foot free with ease, but her leg muscles cry in protest. Max is practically dead weight, carrying her up this mountain has been hard on her body. The lighthouse towers over them and it feels like she’s stumbled onto some sort of holy ground. A safe haven. She holds Max close, stumbling forward and begging the brunette to wake up.
“Don’t worry, we’ll be okay!” She blurts it out, hoping that Max can hear her somehow. Chloe stumbles forward, causing them both to fall to the ground. She moves to a sitting position, frantically sitting up to make sure Max is fine. “Max, can you hear me? Please. Say something.”
The brunette crawls backwards a little. She attempts to stand but fails. “Chloe? I must have passed out...Sorry.”
Her heart leaps. “Oh thank God! Don’t you ever do that again, okay?”
“I swear...but that nightmare was so real...was so horrible.” Max’s voice wavers, like she’s on the verge of tears. Chloe rushes forward and helps her stand, resisting the urge to grab the brunette and bring her into a soft embrace.
The two of them look out over the bay, at the tornado slowly bringing destruction towards their small town. Chloe used to dream about something like this happening to Arcadia Bay, used to wish for it like a child prays for safety every night before bed. But right now, the idea of the bay being destroyed sickens her. The rain beats against her face, almost like it is trying to punish her in more ways than one. She closes her eyes, clenching her fists. She can’t look over at their town, can’t allow herself to get her heart stuck in her throat when she knows she has something that she so desperately needs to say.
“This is my storm! I caused all of this!” Max’s sudden cry causes her eyes to fly open. “I changed fate and destiny so much that…I actually did alter the course of everything. And all I really created was just death and destruction!”
She stares at Max for what feels like a long time. Then, she swallows hard, and puts her hand on Max’s shoulder. “Fuck all that, okay? You were given a power. You didn’t ask for it. And you saved me! Which had to happen. All of this did. Except for what happened to Rachel.”
Saying Rachel’s name makes her feel like someone just stabbed her in the heart. But she still continues. “But without your power, we wouldn’t have found her! Okay so you’re not the goddamn Time Master. But you’re Maxine Caulfield...and you’re amazing...”
Chloe stares into Max’s eyes, hoping that she can get through to her. She knows Max doesn’t think much of herself and loves to accept blame. But she also knows Max. She knows how amazing and selfless Max is. How much love Max holds in her heart for practically everyone and everything. She can’t let Max tear herself down. Max stares back at her for a moment, then turns to the storm.
Chloe takes her hands off the brunette’s shoulders and steps back, steeling herself. As much as she would love to save Max from anything that can hurt her, she knows what needs to be done to save the town. Deep down, Max must know it too. The brunette turns to her and Chloe digs her nails into the palms of her hands, trying to ignore the lump in her throat. She reaches into her back pocket and pulls out Max’s picture, gripping it so tight that she wonders if it will crumble to dust in her hands. “Max, this is the only way.”
Max takes it and holds it in her hands, staring down at it like it’s a page full of secrets from another language. She turns away and looks out at the tornado. “It feels like I took this shot a thousand years ago.”
The brunette walks forward, eyes never leaving the bay. Chloe wants to reach out and take her hand. She wants to be able to just, hold it and never let go. But she doesn’t, choosing instead to stare at the girl in front of her. She steps next to her, trying to keep her voice steady, “You...you could use that photo to change everything right back to when you took that picture. All that would take is for me to...to…”
She can’t force herself to say it, burying her face in her hands and letting her tears fall. Earlier, when she had come to terms with what was happening and decided what needed to be done, she told herself she couldn’t cry when she was telling Max it was okay to let her go. But she can’t help but cry. Can’t help but mourn. Mourn all the time she spent looking for her lost love. Mourn all the time spent this week on being selfish instead of actually living. Mourn herself. Mourn what she could’ve had with Max.
“Fuck that! No...no way! You are my number one priority right now! You are all that matters to me!” Max insists. Chloe can’t help the feelings of love and adoration and gratitude that just build up in her chest. Max is treating her like she holds up the moon. But she can’t let these feelings stop her from doing the right thing. She can’t stop Max from doing the right thing.
“I know. You proved that over and over again. Even though I don’t deserve it.” She doesn’t deserve Max, or anything she’s done to save her. There are more people that are more worthy than she is. More important than she is. She doesn’t have any right to live if it means they’ll die. “I’m so selfish! Not like my mom...look what she had to give up and live through...and she did! She deserves so much more than to be killed by a storm in a fucking diner. Even my step...father deserves her alive.”
She always felt like calling David her stepfather would hurt. Just not in the way it hurts now.
“There are so many more people in Arcadia Bay who should live way more than me.”
“Don’t say that! I won’t trade you!” Max yells.
“You’re not trading me!” Chloe yells back. God, why can’t Max just get this over with? Why is Max trying to get in the way of destiny? “Maybe you’ve just been delaying my real destiny…Look at how many times I’ve almost died or actually died around you! Look at what’s happened in Arcadia Bay since you first saved me! I know I’ve been selfish but for once I think I should accept my fate...our fate.”
“Chloe..” The pain in Max’s voice makes her heart ache. She looks into the brunette’s eyes. She isn’t going to stop herself this time, she needs to let Max know how she feels.
“Max, you finally came back to me this week and you did nothing but show me your love and friendship. You made me smile and laugh like I haven’t done in years. Wherever I end up in this...in whatever reality...all those moments between us were real, and they’ll always be ours! No matter what you choose...I know you’ll make the right decision.” The rain beats against her hot cheeks, getting more angry by the second. Max doesn’t have much time now. Neither of them do.
“Chloe...I can’t make this choice!”
She grabs Max firmly by the arms, keeping her in place. “No Max...you’re the only who can.”
It feels like they stand there for years. Chloe keeps holding on to Max’s arms and staring into her eyes, preparing herself for Max to make the right decision. During this week together, she can’t say she didn’t think about what it would be like to stand in front of Max like this. What she would say. What she would do. She had just hoped that things would be a little different. Hoped that they wouldn’t be looking at each other for the last time. Hoped they wouldn’t be sad. Hoped they would be celebrating a new life outside of Arcadia Bay, which would be a small, untouched blemish in her mirror for miles. She slowly lets go of Max, letting her know that she has to make a choice.
“Chloe...I’m so sorry...I...I don’t wanna do this…” Max whimpers. Chloe brings her into her arms with a sad smile. She closes her eyes for a moment, preparing to accept her fate without any hesitation. She pulls away from the embrace when she’s sure that she can make it through their goodbyes without breaking down.
“I know Max. But we have to. We have to save everybody, okay? And you’ll make those fuckers pay for what they did to Rachel. Being together this week...it was the best farewell gift I could have hoped for. You’re my hero, Max.”
Max reaches out for her very slowly, placing a small hand on her cheek. The brunette leans in, closing her eyes, and Chloe does the same. Then, Max’s soft lips hit hers and for a moment, she’s back in her bedroom. Only this time, she gets to hold Max close. She gets to reciprocate. Let Max really know how much she loves her. That kiss in her bedroom was too brief, too meek. Neither of them had enough guts to deepen it, let their feelings through. This time, the kiss is so much more real, full of so much more emotion. Neither of them hold back, pressing their lips back and forth in a goodbye that is better than any words they could ever say.
“I’ll always love you…” Her heart is beating so loudly, she wonders if the storm has trapped thunder inside her chest. “Now, get out of here, please! Before I freak…And Max Caulfield? Don’t you forget about me.”
“ Never.” Max practically whispers the words as Chloe begins to walk away from her. Then the brunette turns around, choosing to face what she’s saving instead of what she’s losing.
Chloe turns away as well, collapsing to the floor. She presses her palms into the wet earth and lets out a choked sob. It’s a strange feeling, knowing that you are going to lose everything you have left. There’s a lot of sadness and anger, of course, but there is also this other feeling. It’s almost, peaceful. But not quite. Which makes everything hurt a hell of a lot more. She knows that she has to come to terms with the fact that the universe wanted her to be close to Max, but at the same, so incredibly far away. They were forced to exist in the same place, coming as close together as possible, only to never really meet. No matter how hard Chloe tried, no matter how desperate she was, she could never reach Max. She could never bring her close enough to keep.
She closes her eyes and lies down against the wet ground, drained and defeated. Thinking only of a world in which her and Max are allowed to be together.
vii.
Chloe pulls into the first available parking spot she sees, sitting back for a moment to finish her cigarette. She can’t go in half-cocked. She needs to be ready. Who does Prescott think he is anyway? He acts like she can’t tear him down anytime she wants. Acts like she won’t get her way. Well, he’s gonna learn that he can’t just act like nothing ever happened. And she’s gonna make him learn. She goes to get out of the car, but a gust of wind sends a paper in her window and onto her dashboard. This must be karma for tossing that drug store receipt on the ground yesterday. She reaches for it with her free hand, and a stray string from her jacket gets caught on the volume dial for her radio.
“Ah fuck” She mutters. Double karma whammy. She pulls her arm to the side, deciding she doesn’t care about whether or not that solitary string stays in a constant loop on her jacket. The actions turn the dial, and a song blares.
“And everyday, I am learning about you..the things that no one else sees. And the end comes too soon...like dreaming of angels.”
She immediately pulls the key out of the ignition and silence takes over her car. Her face is red with anger and sadness, and she has to resist punching her radio. She never wanted to hear that song ever again. She swallows hard and fixes herself up, trying to not look upset, and then she climbs out of her truck, throwing the cigarette butt to the ground and stomping on it.