Work Text:
April 1988...
"Are you sure your legs feel okay?" Lucas asks Max as they walk side by side along the school hallway.
Max huffs, briefly glancing toward him with narrowed eyes. "Yes, Lucas. How many times do I have to say this?"
"I'm just asking." He throws his hands up defensively. "I don't want you to push yourself too hard, especially since yesterday you almost rolled your ankle walking down the stairs."
"I told you I was fine. You don't have to worry so much; you should put more of your focus on how you cook your eggs," Max deadpanned.
"Okay, why did you bring that up again?" he groans.
"Oh, I am never letting you forget that you straight-up burned them, and the pan caught on fire."
"It was one time! One!" He screeches, turning to face her while continuing to walk his hands all over the place.
"One time too many; no wonder your mum doesn't allow you to come into the kitchen," she presses far too much, enjoying herself making fun of his cooking skills.
"They probably didn't even taste that bad," he mumbled, remembering how his mom had told him to throw them out.
Max laughs. "You could have literally killed me!"
"Your being over dramatic," he rolled his eyes.
"Oh, now I'm the dramatic one?" She looks over at him. "I'm sorry. I think I remember you complaining like a giant baby a few weeks ago that you couldn't sit down for three days because you fell on your ass during basketball practice."
"Okay, that time was reasonable because it really did hurt," he frowns after pointing at her.
"Yeah, yeah, whatever helps you sleep at night, big baby." She rolls her eyes, looking away from him for the second time, a small smile tugging at her lips.
Her eyes catch on someone standing in front of the lockers, but their attention is focused entirely on Lucas. Max grimaces. She's unfazed by the look, having gotten used to people staring at her boyfriend by now. Especially since he had rejoined the basketball team after becoming captain and remaking the team.
His working out has really paid off, and his new short haircut has attracted a few new eyes since. And we can't forget his charming charisma and nerdiness that could put Max back into a coma. (But let's not...)
"Careful, Romeo. You have eyes on you," Max says dryly.
Lucas, confused as always, looks toward Max before following her gaze. He locks eyes with a short brunette girl standing by the lockers, staring at him like he's the most interesting person in the hallway.
Lucas's eyes widen as he recognizes her.
The girl slowly approaches them but deliberately ignores Max, paying no attention to her. "Hey, Lucas!" the sweet voice calls out.
"Uh, hey, Amber..." Lucas lets out slowly.
Max glares up at Lucas, squinting between the two of them. He knows her name?
"Are you ready for tomorrow's game?" Amber asks, twirling a piece of hair around her finger as she leans against the locker in her cheer uniform, looking innocently at him.
"Uh, yeah. Totally." Lucas can feel Max's glare burning into the side of his face, and he internally cringes at how bad this looks right now.
Max rolls her eyes hard, her lips pressed into a thin line; she really doesn't feel like this right now, so she nudges Lucas lightly at his side. "I'm going to go to class. Don't wait up for me," she tells him, her voice shallow, before turning her attention to Amber with a sarcastic smile playing on her face. "Nice to meet you, Amber."
Before Lucas can say anything, she turns and walks away.
"Max, wait. Let me come with you," he tries, but to no avail. She ignores him completely.
"Yikes. What's her problem?" Amber says, watching Max walk away.
Lucas raises his brows at her, immediately getting defensive. "What do you mean?"
"Never mind." Amber shrugs before smiling up at him with that same fake sweetness. "I just wanted to wish you good luck on the court, though I don't think you'll need it."
"Uhh, thanks," Lucas scartches the back of his neck, really wanting to go after Max right now. "Hey, uhm, I've got to go, but I'll see you around?" he says, not sure what to say next but also not sounding rude.
"Yeah, totally, I'll see you at the game," Amber replies before she passes by him.
Lucas watches her walk away for a second before looking down the hallway where Max disappeared.
He sighs under his breath.
"Shit."
He jogs his way towards her, sliding through the now forming crowd with a few "sorrys" and "excuse me's" past people trying not to bump into anyone.
When he finally catches up with her, Max is just about to step into her classroom when Lucas gently reaches for her arm, stopping her before she can get through the doorway.
"What do you want, Lucas?" she asks, her voice already strained.
"Look, Max, I'm sorry about Amber. I know she came off weird, and I know that probably got to you—"
"That's the fourth one this week, Lucas," she cuts in.
He pauses.
"I know, and I'm sorry, but I really can't control that, you know?"
"Yes, you can, Lucas." She looks up at him, her eyes clouded with frustration, her voice quieter now but far more earnest. "You don't always have to be Mr. Nice all the time. You can use your voice and tell them straight up to leave you alone. Tell them you have a girlfriend."
"But they're just being nice—"
"God, you really don't get it, do you?" she says with a small, humorless laugh.
Just minutes ago, they had been walking down the hallway, making fun of each other like they always did. Now the warmth between them has disappeared, replaced by something neither of them knows how to fix.
Max never wanted to admit how insecure she had started feeling.
At first, it hadn't bothered her. She trusted Lucas. She knew he loved her, and she knew he wasn't looking for anyone else. But lately, it seemed like there was always another girl finding some excuse to talk to him, smile at him, or linger a little too long.
And every time it happened, Max found herself wondering why they seemed to look right through her.
It made her question things she hated questioning.
Maybe she wasn't good enough for him. Maybe Lucas deserved someone who was easier to love, someone who wasn't constantly irritated or bossy, someone who didn't make him work so hard to understand her.
She hated that those thoughts had started following her home.
Some nights, instead of sleeping, she'd lie awake thinking about all the things she could change about herself. She'd think about how she could be a better girlfriend, how she could be less difficult, less jealous, less Max, as if there were some version of herself she could become that would make her impossible for Lucas to leave.
She was trying. She really was.
But every time another girl showed interest in him, that little fear came creeping back.
What if one day he realizes he could have someone better?
Lucas had reassured her more times than she could count. He always told her that she was the only person he wanted, and she believed him.
At least, she wanted to.
Because sometimes his words weren't enough to quiet everything else in her head.
She'd even had dreams where he'd moved on from her, where she was suddenly standing outside his house with nowhere to go while he carried on with his life without her. She'd wake up with that awful feeling still sitting in her chest, even after reminding herself that none of it had actually happened.
And now, standing in front of Lucas, she could feel those same thoughts creeping back in.
She didn't want him to see how much it hurt.
So before the tears could gather in her eyes, Max gently pulls her arm from his grasp and turns away.
"Max—"
She doesn't answer.
She walks into the classroom and takes her seat, leaving Lucas standing in the hallway, watching her disappear behind the door.
Max stares down at her desk for a moment, blinking hard.
She told herself she wasn't going to cry over something this stupid.
So she pulls out her notebook, opens it to a fresh page, and forces herself to listen to the teacher.
She writes down the notes.
She keeps her eyes on the board.
And she pretends that the words in front of her are enough to keep her mind from wandering back to Lucas.
-
In class, Lucas couldn't concentrate, even in his favorite physics class. His mind kept wandering back to Max. The look on her face had stayed with him, and knowing that he had been the reason for it made his stomach twist.
He kept thinking about everything she'd said, and it didn't take him long to realize how stupid he'd been being. Of course she felt that way. He'd been letting her feel that way without even realizing it.
He never really thought much about the attention he got from other girls because, to him, none of it mattered. Max was the only girl he had eyes for. He'd told her that countless times, and he meant it every time. But he'd also been too quick to brush off the girls who came up to him, letting conversations continue because he didn't want to be rude.
He'd never considered how it looked from Max's perspective.
If the situation were reversed, he knew exactly how he'd feel. If a bunch of jocky guys kept coming up to Max, finding excuses to talk to her and acting overly friendly, he'd probably be jealous too. Maybe he'd even try to convince himself that he trusted her and that it didn't matter, but seeing it happen over and over would still get under his skin.
And suddenly, he understood.
This wasn't about whether he wanted those girls. He didn't.
It was about the fact that Max had been standing beside him while they did it, feeling like she was being overlooked, and Lucas had done nothing to make her feel otherwise.
He'd spent so much time thinking that telling Max she was the only one he wanted would be enough. He hadn't realized that sometimes he had to show her, too.
The thought made him sink lower in his chair.
He didn't want Max feeling like that again.
Not because he thought she was being unreasonable, but because he hated knowing she'd been lying awake at night wondering whether she was enough for him when, to Lucas, there had never been anyone else.
And now he had to make it right.
-
The car ride home was filled with a tense silence, neither Max nor Lucas saying a word as they made their way through the familiar streets. Lucas took a few glances at her while he drove, but she remained turned toward the passenger-side window with her head resting against the glass, watching the houses pass by without saying anything. He let out a quiet breath, his hands tightening around the steering wheel as he tried to think of something to say. He hated seeing Max like this, especially knowing he was the reason for it, but every time he thought about breaking the silence, he worried that whatever came out would only irritate her more.
When he finally made the last turn into the neighborhood, he pulled into the driveway and put the car into park. "We made it," he said quietly, mostly just because he couldn't stand the silence anymore.
"Mhm."
Max opened the passenger door and climbed out before Lucas could say anything else, shutting it behind her as she made her way toward the house. She rang the doorbell, and Lucas watched her from the driver's seat for a moment before letting out a long breath and closing his eyes. He knew he couldn't sit in the car forever, so he eventually got out and followed her inside.
Sue opened the door with a smile. "Oh, hello, sweetheart. How was your day?" she asked warmly, but her expression immediately shifted when she noticed the tired look on Max's face.
"Are you alright, dear?"
Max gave her a weak, lopsided smile and nodded. "Yeah. I think I'm just going to go upstairs and rest my legs for a bit."
"Okay, dear. Just tell me if you need anything," Sue offered with a gentle smile, stepping aside to let her through.
"Thanks, Sue."
Max headed upstairs, leaving Sue by the doorway. A few moments later, Lucas finally appeared, and the second Sue looked at him, her expression changed. She could tell something was wrong before he even said a word.
"What happened to Max, Lucas?"
Lucas scratched the back of his neck, his eyes dropping toward the floor as he struggled to figure out how to explain everything without making himself sound like an idiot.
"Lucas..." Sue folded her arms. "What did you do?"
"Hey, how do you even know it was my fault?" he asked, although even he knew he didn't sound very convincing.
Sue gave him a pointed look. "For starters, you look like you're scared to death, you're jittery, you barely looked at me when you walked through the door, and Max looked like she was trying very hard not to cry."
Lucas's expression fell, and he sighed as he leaned against the wall. "I made her upset."
"I figured."
"I didn't mean to," he quickly added. "That's the problem. I wasn't trying to do anything wrong, but there was this girl at school who came up to me and started talking, and Max got upset because apparently it's happened a bunch of times lately. I kept telling her that they were just being nice, but..." He rubbed his face, frustrated with himself. "I realized afterward that I was basically telling her that she shouldn't be upset instead of actually listening to her."
Sue's expression softened. "And what did she tell you?"
Lucas hesitated, looking toward the stairs. "That I should actually tell them to leave me alone sometimes. That I should make it clear that I have a girlfriend instead of just standing there and letting them talk to me."
"And do you understand why that bothered her?"
"I do now." Lucas swallowed, his voice quieter. "I never thought about it from her side. I don't care about any of those girls, Mum. Max is the only person I want, and I've told her that so many times, but I guess I never realized that saying it isn't always enough if I'm still letting other people make her feel like she's standing on the outside."
Sue nodded slowly, giving him a sympathetic look. "That's a pretty important thing to realize."
"I just don't know what I'm supposed to do now," Lucas admitted, his shoulders dropping. "I want to go upstairs and talk to her, but I don't even know if she wants to see me. I don't want to make her feel worse."
Sue stepped closer, her expression gentle. "Then don't go up there trying to prove that you're right, Lucas. Go up there because you want to understand why she's hurt. You don't have to have some perfect speech ready, and you don't have to fix everything in five minutes. Just listen to her and let her know that you understand what she's been feeling."
Lucas nodded slowly, taking in her words.
"And if she needs some time before she's ready to talk?" he asked.
"Then give her some time," Sue said. "But don't mistake giving her space for avoiding the problem. When she's ready, make sure you're there."
Lucas glanced toward the staircase again, his nerves still twisting in his stomach, but there was something steadier in his expression now.
"Okay," he said quietly. "Thanks, Mum."
Sue smiled and gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze. "Go talk to her when you're ready."
-
Lucas had taken a shower to clear his head, hoping the warm water would somehow untangle the mess of thoughts he'd been carrying around since school. A few minutes earlier, he'd peeked through Max's bedroom door and found her sound asleep in bed, curled slightly beneath the blankets with one arm tucked beneath her pillow. Her cheeks were still warm from sleep; a few loose strands of red hair stuck messily across her forehead and cheek, while the rest of it spread across the pillow around her.
She looked peaceful, almost as though the argument from earlier had never happened, but there was something strangely lonely about the way she slept, too. Lucas didn't want to wake her, especially after the day she'd had, but it was getting closer to dinner, and he figured he could at least try talking to her. Even if she was still angry with him, he couldn't keep avoiding the conversation.
He quietly pushed the door open and tiptoed into her room, careful not to make the floorboards creak beneath his feet. He was wearing a pair of grey sweatpants and a plain black long-sleeved Star Wars shirt, his hair still barely damp from his shower and falling messily over his forehead.
Before getting any closer, Lucas stopped near the doorway and simply stood there for a moment, taking her in. She's still in the same clothes as before, not bothering to change, and she's gripping tightly onto a pillow clutched to her chest.
Without her usual sarcastic remarks or the little smirk she wore whenever she was about to make fun of him, Max looked younger somehow, her face relaxed in sleep and all the tension she'd been carrying earlier finally gone. The sight made something in his chest ache.
He'd spent the entire afternoon thinking about what she'd said, but seeing her like this made it feel different. This was the girl he'd been so busy trying to reassure that he hadn't stopped to realize how much she had actually been hurting.
Lucas slowly walked over to the side of her bed, his eyes lingering on her face as he tried to find the right words before she even opened her eyes. Instead, he found himself reaching down and gently brushing a few strands of hair away from her face, wanting to see her properly. His fingers lingered at her temple, softly smoothing over her skin as he watched her sleep.
He leaned down carefully and pressed a soft kiss to her warm cheek, but as he pulled away, the amber light filtering through the window caught something glistening against her skin. Lucas frowned and looked closer, his heart sinking when he noticed the faint residue of tears beneath her eye. Her eyelashes were still slightly clumped together, and suddenly he understood that she hadn't simply fallen asleep after a long day.
She had cried herself to sleep.
Lucas froze.
He hadn't known she'd actually cried over this. Angry? Maybe. He'd known she was hurt; he'd seen it in her face, but somehow he'd convinced himself that once she got home and had some time alone, she'd be alright. Seeing the evidence of it now, when she was completely unaware of him, made the reality settle differently.
A sharp pang went through his chest, and his breath caught in his throat. He blinked several times, trying to keep himself composed as he stared at her. His thumb gently brushed beneath her eye, careful not to wake her, and for a moment he couldn't bring himself to look away.
"Oh, Max."
He hated knowing that she'd gone upstairs, closed her door, and cried alone because of something he could have handled differently.
Lucas slowly lowered himself to the floor beside her bed, resting back on his knees as he carefully wiped away the faint, dried tear tracks beneath her eyes. His thumb lingered for a moment before he pulled his hand away, his gaze drifting toward the bedside table.
A few photographs sat there in a small stand, their edges slightly worn from being looked at so many times.
The first was one of Max and El, both of them with their arms wrapped around each other and bright smiles spread across their faces. Lucas remembered taking that picture during the summer of '85, back when everything had seemed almost impossibly normal. They'd spent the day laughing, messing around, and enjoying a summer that felt like it would last forever, before Billy had been cursed and everything had fallen apart.
Beside it was a photograph Jonathan had taken at one of their parties. Will stood quietly with a small smile; Dustin was caught mid-laugh with his eyes squeezed shut, Mike stood beside him with his lanky frame slightly hunched as he shielded his eyes from the sun, and El was attached to Mike's side, one hand wrapped firmly around his waist.
But Lucas's attention immediately settled on himself and Max.
He remembered that moment as clearly as if it had happened yesterday. He was carrying Max on his back, her chin resting comfortably on top of his head, her arms looped around his shoulders and her legs hooked around his waist. One of his hands was tucked behind her knee while he looked up at her with a crooked, almost smug smile, as though he was secretly proud of himself for getting her to laugh.
Lucas smiled faintly.
She'd kept that picture.
His eyes moved to the next one, a photograph of the two of them at the Snow Ball, also taken by Jonathan. They were dancing together, both caught in the middle of a moment that looked almost too happy to be real. Lucas remembered his own shy, slightly prideful smile and the pink that had dusted Max's cheeks as she grinned back at him.
For a second, he could almost hear the music again. He remembered the relief of having survived everything they'd been through, the entire group finally together in one place, dancing and laughing like normal kids. They'd spent the rest of the night drinking far too much fruit punch, singing along to whatever music was playing, and pretending that the world outside the gym didn't exist.
Lucas would have given almost anything to go back to that night, even for a few minutes.
But then his gaze fell on the last photograph.
It sat slightly apart from the others inside a clear glass frame, carefully protected as though it meant something different.
It was a picture of him.
Lucas was standing in his backyard with a basketball tucked beneath his arm, his eyes squeezed shut as he smiled at whoever was behind the camera. He remembered that afternoon immediately. Max had taken it from her wheelchair while watching him practice, and she'd spent most of the time laughing at him as he showed off every trick he was trying to relearn.
He'd stopped playing basketball while she was in her coma. When she woke up, Max had practically forced him to start again, insisting that he shouldn't let something he loved disappear just because life had changed.
He'd complained about it at the time.
Now, looking at the picture, he couldn't understand why.
Lucas stared at the photograph for a long moment before looking back at Max.
Something in his chest softened.
She had taken that picture.
She had kept it.
Out of all the photographs she could have put beside her bed, this one had been important enough to sit there with the rest.
And suddenly, Lucas found himself thinking about all the little things Max did that he'd never really stopped to appreciate. The way she remembered tiny details about him, the way she'd push him to do things he was afraid he'd lost forever, the way she'd tease him relentlessly but still notice when something was wrong before he even said anything. She loved him loudly sometimes, through jokes and arguments and the way she demanded his attention, but she loved him quietly too, in all the things she did without expecting him to notice.
Lucas's throat tightened.
Max had already lived with the knowledge that she'd broken his heart once. She'd seen what losing her had done to him, and after everything they'd been through, she had spent so much of their time together trying to make sure she never hurt him like that again. She tried to show him how much she loved him, sometimes in ways he didn't even recognize as being an effort because they'd simply become part of who she was.
And somehow, while Max had been trying so hard to prove that she was enough for him, Lucas had been so certain of her love that he'd forgotten she needed to feel secure in his, too.
He looked back at her sleeping face.
There was no question in his mind that Max loved him.
The photographs were proof of that. So were the countless little things she'd done for him, the memories she'd held onto, and the way she'd fought so hard to build a life with him after everything they'd lost.
The painful part was realizing that she had been afraid he didn't love her enough in return.
Lucas felt another pang in his chest.
He reached out again, gently brushing a stray strand of hair away from her face.
"You don't have to keep proving it to me," he whispered, barely loud enough for her to hear. "I already know."
Max shifted slightly in her sleep, her face turning toward his hand.
Lucas's eyes softened as he looked at her.
Now he just had to make sure she knew that, too.
Max shifted slightly in her sleep, her face turning toward his hand.
Lucas's expression softened as he looked at her. He hesitated for a moment before slowly reaching toward her arm but stopped just before his fingers could touch her. He let his hand fall onto the mattress instead, already preparing to pull away, when her fingers suddenly curled around his.
"Don't go," she whispered.
Her eyes slowly fluttered open, blinking against the warm light filtering through the room as she adjusted to her surroundings. For a moment, she simply looked at him, still caught somewhere between sleep and being fully awake, before the events of the day seemed to settle back into her mind.
Lucas's chest tightened.
"Max..." Her name escaped him quietly.
His eyes drifted briefly toward the faint tear marks still visible beneath her eyes, and the guilt he'd been carrying since school came rushing back. Knowing that she'd cried herself to sleep while he was downstairs, thinking she just needed some space, made his stomach twist. He'd spent so much of the afternoon wishing he could take back the way he'd handled things, but seeing the proof that she'd been hurting when he wasn't there made him wish he'd understood sooner.
He carefully turned his hand beneath hers, letting his fingers rest against her palm before placing his other hand gently over the top of it.
"I'm so, so sorry," he began, his voice quiet. "I know I've already said that, but I mean it. I hate knowing you were up here crying over something I could've handled better."
Max's eyes softened slightly, but she remained quiet.
"I kept thinking that because I don't care about those girls, it didn't matter if I talked to them. And it doesn't mean anything to me, but I finally realized that doesn't mean it can't mean something to you." His thumb slowly brushed across the back of her hand. "I should've thought about how it looked from your side instead of expecting you to just know that none of it matters to me."
Max swallowed, her expression still tired.
"I never want you thinking that someone else could just walk up and take my attention away from you," Lucas continued. "Because that's not how I feel. I've always known where my attention is, but I guess I haven't always made it clear enough to everyone else."
He paused, looking at her carefully.
"You don't deserve to feel like you're being ignored while somebody else is trying to get my attention. And I don't want you feeling like you have to compete with anyone for me."
Something in Max's face softened at that.
"I see how much you put into us, Max. I really do. You make me feel loved in a hundred little ways, and you've done so much to make me feel like I matter to you. I don't ever want you thinking I don't notice that."
Her fingers tightened slightly around his.
Lucas gave her hand a small squeeze.
"I just need to be better at putting up a wall when someone crosses a line. I can be friendly without letting someone think there's an opening, and I should've realized that sooner. I don't want to change who I am or stop being nice to people. I just need to know when being nice is starting to make you feel like you're standing on the outside."
Max looked down at their hands for a moment before quietly asking, "You really mean that?"
Lucas looked at her as though the answer should have been obvious.
"Of course I do."
A tiny smile appeared on her face, barely there but enough for Lucas to notice.
He smiled back, brushing a loose strand of hair away from her cheek.
"And for the record," he added softly, "you never have to be less of yourself to keep me around."
Max's eyes flickered back up to his.
"You're stuck with me," he whispered.
That finally pulled a quiet laugh from her, though she quickly tried to hide it by looking away.
Lucas smiled, relieved to hear even the smallest bit of her usual humor returning.
"So..." he says after a moment, watching her carefully. "Do you forgive me?"
"Hmm..." Max pretends to think, sleep still lightly clung to hr but she was now more awake, glancing around her room as though she's seriously considering it. A teasing smirk slowly appears on her face, her cheeks tinting a deeper shade of red. "I can think of a few ways you could make it up to me."
"Oh, really?" Lucas says playfully, moving a little closer, catching on. "How?"
Max looks at him for a moment, her expression softening as she takes in the familiar face she'd spent the entire day being angry with. There was still a little stubbornness in her eyes, but the frustration that had been there earlier was almost gone. Her gaze fell to his lips before looking back into his eyes.
"Kiss me to find out."
The words barely leave her mouth before Lucas leans toward her, giving her enough time to change her mind. When she doesn't, he gently closes the remaining distance between them and kisses her softly.
For a moment, Max stays still, almost caught off guard by how quickly the anger she'd been holding onto begins to disappear. Then she relaxes, her hand remaining in his as she returns the kiss. It isn't rushed or dramatic; it feels familiar, like slipping back into something that had been missing between them since the morning.
When they pull apart, Lucas doesn't immediately move away. He stays close, looking at her with a small, content smile, almost as though he's making sure she's really okay.
"What?" Max asks, catching him staring.
Lucas simply shrugs, his smile softening. "Just glad that you're here."
Max tries to hide the blush creeping across her cheeks by rolling her eyes but eventually gives up. "So am I, dork."
For a few moments, they sit quietly, the tension from earlier feeling like it's finally been replaced by something lighter. Then Lucas's expression suddenly shifts into a familiar, smug grin.
Max's eyes narrow.
She knows that look.
"Lucas, don't you dare—"
Before she can finish, he leans down and peppers a flurry of tiny, ticklish kisses across her cheeks, forehead, and the tip of her nose, practically attacking her with them.
Max immediately bursts into laughter, screeching as she tries to hide her face behind her hands while weakly pushing at his shoulders.
"Lucas!" she giggles, squirming away from him. "You trimmed your moustache! It's tickling meeeee!"
He completely ignores her complaints, continuing his ridiculous attack as though her protests only encourage him.
"I love you," he says between each little kiss.
"Stop!"
"I love you."
"Lucas!"
"I love you."
Max dissolves into another fit of laughter, finally giving up on trying to push him away and letting her hands fall into her lap.
"You're so annoying," she manages between laughs.
Lucas grins. "Yeah, but you love me."
Max shakes her head, still smiling despite herself.
"Unfortunately."