Chapter Text
A blue-haired punk was leaning over a wooden railing on the side of a road, holding out a camera and laughing. Behind her, a freckled girl held her by the torso, pointing into the horizon with one arm.
Max giggled shrilly, pitch changing as they teetered about the edge of the plank. “ No, Chloe! Over there, you dork!!”
Chloe swatted blindly at Max, trying to follow her finger as she struggled to catch her breath. “I can’t,” she gasped, tears of laughter dampening her eyes, “We’re tilting too much!”
“Take the photo or I’m going to drop you,” Max threatened, the attempted hostility of her words masked by her chuckles and squeals.
“You wouldn’t!”
The camera flashed anyways, the punk reaching forward as Max let out a sigh of relief, barely catching the released polaroid between two fingers. The two teens collapsed away from the fence and onto the grass, in a knot of pitchy exclamations and hushed curses. Max scooted closer to Chloe, wrapping her arms and legs around her and burrowing her face into fading blue locks.
Chloe snorted. “C’mon, Super-Max. We gotta compare the pictures.”
Max whined, voice muffled as she spoke. “ Why can’t we just lay here. On the soft grass. Togetherrrr.”
The punk stroked her hair softly. “As tempting as that is, you’re the one that wanted to teach me photography in the first place. Another concern of mine- we’re on the bank of grass beside a highway. I know you can rewind and all that jazz, but still. Now let go of me and let me work.”
Max pouted but pried herself away from Chloe, reluctantly. She hadn’t wanted to leave Chloe’s side since they drove out of.. Arcadia. Even a gentle hand on her thigh calmed her nerves. And she was feeling a bit jumpy right about now- what, with the photography and all. She still loved it, of course, it just.. brought back unwanted memories sometimes.
Chloe had gotten up and headed to the bed of her lucky ol’ truck, probably to examine the dozens of polaroids laid out beside each other. Max decided to stay on the ground for a bit and let the remaining effects of her punk’s touch linger, closing her eyes and imagining one of her favorite nights they’d spent together...
The two girls were lying in the bed of the truck, looking up at the starry sky and observing the moon. They’d been unusually quiet since.. the sacrifice, and neither had wanted to bring it up. So they both sat there, watching the sky intently as if they expected it to break open and suck up all the problems they’d faced, every issue they’d been exposed to- and there’d been quite a lot.
What could’ve been hours later, Chloe finally spoke. Not her usual few mutters or sound effects, but full sentences, just spewing out of her all of a sudden. “The moon looks gorgeous in a really weird way, tonight.” Max sat up and looked at her. “ It looks like it feels cold. That cold you feel in your bones but not on your skin. Or that cold you feel when you breathe in, and it hits your nose and your throat and just chills your lungs and makes you shiver but in the best possible way. My inability to take a photo right now kills me.”
Current Max smiled thinking about it. That was the moment she’d had the idea to teach the inexperienced punk to take some bomb pictures. She didn’t mention her idea at the time- not only was the timing incredibly off, but she hadn’t touched her camera in days. Just looking at it sent chills of crippling anxiety down her spine. She would look at the lens and be tugged through time, straight back into those restraints, right next to Victoria and the impending doom that would soon consume the both of them.
Max had smiled, after Chloe spoke. “ And you say you don’t have talent.”
Blue hair framed a sheepish grin as it developed. And just that smile reminded Max of all the people who wouldn’t be able to smile like that anymore. Because of her. Almost instantly, her mood had changed. Given, she wasn’t exactly happy to begin with, but she wasn’t sad either. And then a wave of devastation just decided then was the right time to crash on top of her and any ounce of not-sad she’d had left.
It took Chloe a few moments to realize why Max was looking so admantly at her hands, intertwined in her lap. And then she saw the glint of the moonlight, bouncing off the salt rivers flowing down her cheeks.
“Max? You alright?”
She didn't reply, instead drawing her knees to her chest and hiding her face. Her shoulders bounced with her attempt to conceal the sobs that were rattling her ribcage in a desperate effort to make themselves known.
“Fuck. You’re not alright.” Chloe sat there for a moment, staring at her hands, palms up. Max was crying. Sobbing, even. This was the first time she’d realized that Max wasn’t okay and she hadn’t been for a while.
Chloe scolded herself, heat rising to her cheeks as she called herself out on her selfishness. Sure, she’d lost her parents, but Max? Max had watched her die over and over, been kidnapped by Jeffershit, abused, and.. basically killed an entire town. And Chloe had just sat there silently, never offering a single bit of reassurance, too busy obsessing over the stepfather she’d swore she’d never even pay a second thought to. And now she was unprepared. Did Max even want to be touched?
Chloe was reminded of the moment over the body of a girl she’d once known, with blonde hair and soft skin and kind eyes with a fierceness behind them. That girl was.. well, she was gone. And Max had been the one to hold her as she sobbed and remembered the play she was forced to partake in and the kiss she’d shared on the street and the two-by-four wooden plank that saved her life.
Now it was Chloe’s turn to offer support. She’d scooted closer to Max, taking caution, watching for tells that the affection wasn’t appreciated. There were none, so Chloe wrapped her arms around the brunette and pushed her face into the crook between her shoulder and neck.
Max tensed at first. She had been unfamiliar and didn’t know whether this was a pity touch, or just full of affection. She decided she didn’t care. And so she fell into the punk’s arms and wept anyways. And, fuck, did it feel good. She clenched Chloe’s shirt in her fists and tugged, pulling her closer. Tears began to fall down Chloe’s cheeks as Max winced from the intensity of her own sobs.
Max kept her knees against her chest, as if she was holding herself together. She tensed and cried and broke in her friend’s arms, though she still doesn’t know whether she was okay with it, or whether she was too shattered to care.
Chloe spoke into Max’s skin softly. “ It’s okay, it’s alright.”
The brunette’s head shot up, taking Chloe’s with it. “ It’s anything but okay, and it’s anything but alright! I killed people, Chloe! Me!”
“ You didn’t kill anyone. But you did save me.”
Max thought about that for a moment and considered arguing with Chloe’s first statement. She decided against it. Chloe always won these types of arguments.
“If it wasn’t for you, Max, I’d be dead. But I’m not. I’m here, and you’re here. We’re together again. Long Max Silver and Captain Bluebeard, reunited at last.”
Max held her head in her hands. “And here I am, whining while we should be making the best of it.”
Chloe nuzzled her cheek. “ Thus giving me an excuse to hold you again.”
“ We haven’t really talked much lately, have we.”
“Not exactly,” Chloe replied carefully, “but we can change that, now.” Max offered a questioning glance. “ We’ve both been focusing on the negative,” the punk continued. “That’s no help. So.. maybe.. actually, I’m not sure.”
“Spit it out, Price.” Max smiled slightly through the still falling tears. The punk rarely stepped outside of her ‘I don’t give a fuck’ limits, but when she did, it was adorable.
Chloe rubbed the back of her neck, lifting an arm away. Max felt the absence but only hoped the contact would come back, not wanting to seem so pushy. “Back when I.. actually went to my therapist lady- you know, the one I hated with a passion and always ranted about during our.. few conversations, she sometimes.. well, she-”
“What are you so nervous about?” Max asked softly, adjusting positions so she was sitting on her knees, facing the other girl.
“I just don’t want to say something will work, and then have it fail.” Chloe was looking at her lap, an emotion Max couldn’t seem to read radiating from her.
She took the punk’s hands in her’s. “Hey.. it’s worth a shot. Lay it down. If it helps, I’ll be forever grateful.”
Chloe looked up, carefully. Current Max wanted to wince just thinking about the expression on Chloe’s face. She had looked like a puppy, who’d done wrong over and over but still just.. couldn’t get it right. Maybe that’s how she felt as she spoke. “ And if it doesn’t?”
“I’ll be forever grateful.” Max squeezed her hands briefly. “C’mon.”
“My therapist. She knew I struggled when I focused on.. all of the bad things. So she told me that when they started to flood up, I had to think positive. Which, apparently, is hard to just do- something younger me was too absent minded to predict. So, when I explained it to her, she told me to list out a number of positive things.”
Max considered that for a second. “How many things?”
“Given the.. circumstances, ten. But if that’s too many for you, we can-”
Max held up one finger. “ You’re alive.” With each, carefully thought statement, Max had raised another digit. “ You’re unharmed. We’re together. The truck is okay. We have enough money from Blackwells handy-dandy handicap fund to get through at least three months.” She hid an amused smile. That had been fun to say. “ This whole thing finally gives us a chance to explore- be free like you’ve always wanted. My.. my camera is safe. Maybe we can finally get a doggy. Maybe this gives us an opportunity to grow.. Closer, make up for the years that I fucked up.”
Chloe smiled softly as she spoke. “ That’s nine.”
Max had thought hard, chewing on the inside of her lip, avoiding the punk’s gaze. She couldn’t think of anything else. There was nothing else positive- she would’ve said the fact that she was unharmed, herself, but.. was that entirely all that good?
Chloe searched for Max’s gaze and her face fell. “Oh.. alright. We can stick with nine, if you can’t think of anything else.”
“No.. there’s.. there’s something.” She hoped.
“Max, really, if-”
And, without giving it a second thought, Max anchored her hands on the sides of Chloe’s face and brought her forehead against hers. Chloe had widened her eyes, a noise of surprise escaping as she did so, though she grew comfortable in a matter of seconds.
Max closed her eyes, hands shaking against the punk’s soft skin. “I love you.” And with those three words, she brought her chin forward and pressed their lips to meet, every so carefully. It wasn’t forceful- in fact, Chloe could only really feel the softness of Max’s lips if she focused. But boy, was she focusing.
Though her breath had audibly caught in her throat while Max advanced, the second their lips touched, she could breathe again. Unsure of what to do with her hands, she cautiously left them at her sides. Max smiled lightly, lingering for a moment before pulling back and opening her eyes again, fingers still resting over Chloe’s cheeks.
Chloe grinned awkwardly. “ I-I, um.. I love you too, Max.”
Max frowned a bit. “ What’s wrong?”
The other girl shook her head, smiling still. “ Nothing. I’d just always pictured myself making the first move.” And not like this, she’d wanted to add. But she never did- Max had started to rub her thumbs across her skin. Perfectly executed distraction.
The brunette’s lips lifted up at the corners. “ Well, you can always go for it now. No one has to know I was first.”
Chloe sat still for a moment before closing the distance, the kiss firmer and more certain. She was proud of herself for it, anchoring her hands at Max’s waist and tilting her head accordingly. She let herself go, melt into the contact. This is what she’d needed. This is what both of them needed. This kiss turned the small thread holding them together into a thick rope. This kiss didn’t fix everything, but it certainly pushed them in that direction; this they both knew.
Minutes later, they pulled away, lips still feeling the aftershock of the unplanned connections. Chloe smirked widely and brought her lips close to Max’s ear. “And for the record, Freckles.. I’m the better kisser.”
And ‘freckles’ didn’t disagree.
***
“Aye, Maximus? You alright?”
Max’s head shot up, the memories falling away. “Hmm?”
Chloe chuckled. “I’ve been calling you for, like, then straight minutes.” She bounced up and down on the bed of the truck. “I was starting to worry you got stuck in time again.” A nervous laugh.
Max stood carefully and brushed herself off, pittering to the truck beside the other teen. “Not this time. Just memories.” She nuzzled Chloe carefully.
“Good ones?”
She nodded. “Definitely.”
Chloe turned her head carefully, lips hovering just over the brunette’s. “Am I correct to assume they involve me?”
Max resisted the urge to push closer as she nodded. They stayed close for a second before Chloe smiled darkly and pulled back.
Max pouted. “Heyyyy,” she whined. “You pulled away too early.”
Chloe grinned wider. “No, I’m just focused. C’mon. Photographs.” She nodded toward the spread out polaroids. She picked a pile up and threw it back down after observation. “These are shit.”
Max picked a few up with careful hands and eyed each one silently. This one; too bright, almost blinding when you looked at it- the sun caught the camera at a weird angle. That one; shading was alright but the focal point wasn’t evident. The next one, the depth of field between a stop-sign and the lense itself wasn’t vast enough.
She was growing exasperated when she noticed a glint under the wheel of the pickup. She hopped off and pittered toward it, picking the picture up with both hands and staring at it. She smiled lightly to herself. This was the one.
This photo was the one Chloe had taken while she leaned over the wooden railing, Max clutching her cautiously in fear that, somehow, she might fall. They’d leaned forward deeply just as the photograph was taken, the trees and water and setting sun in the background blurring perfectly, lines of motion trailing behind the various objects captured in time.
She poked Chloe, who was still invested in trying to find the best of the pictures on the truck. “Found it.”
` Chloe turned and took the picture, looking at it and then grinning to herself. “Hey, this isn’t half bad.”
Max swatted at her. “This is awesome! I mean, look at it! The way the light bounces off the water…”
Chloe watched her brunette as she spewed various terms and observations. She would’ve been listening if she wasn’t so focused on her hair. The perfect shade of chestnut brown, sun beaming down at it, shining brightly. Or the way she scrunched up her nose when she was talking about something she was passionate about- Max’d never noticed it, either. It just… happened. Chloe smiled a bit, drowning herself in the way Max’s lips moved when she spoke, soft and lush and perfectly kissable.
She leaned forward ever so slightly and brushed her lips against the girl’s forehead. Her words halted. Another kiss, this time dusting over the tip of her nose, lips involuntarily turning upward. And finally….
Their lips would’ve touched. If a honking car hadn’t scared the actual shit out of the both of them. Chloe bounced back and turned toward the road, expecting to see a car whizzing by, ready to scold the driver she would probably never meet again. But when her gaze hit the pavement, the street was unusually bare. No screeching tires or roaring engines or flashing metal. She turned her head, face falling when she noticed the old Toyota parked behind them. Max followed her gaze, curious at the mood change.
“What’s up?” Max asked, debating where to turn her attention.
She didn’t get an answer before the Toyota’s door opened. A fair woman stepped out, dusty blonde hair resting just below her shoulders. Her thin-strapped shirt showed off her tattoos- one of an orange butterfly, seemingly a monarch, the other a bundle of colourful flowers taking up her entire right arm. Her cheekbones were gaunt, cheeks themselves missing the healthy glow and blush that belonged. The woman took a tired drag from the cigarette she was holding and threw it to the ground, stomping it out.
Chloe covered her mouth and pulled away from Max, stepping off of the truck and onto the gravel.
Max could hear how irregular her punk’s breathing was as she jumped up to meet her side. “Chloe?” No reply.
The woman didn’t look glad to be there, but she didn’t look tormented, either. Her expression, while full of.. wonder, maybe, was tired. Exhausted from years of wear and tear, decades of experience in things more bad than good. The closer she got, the more evident the shine in her eyes was. Max had only seen a shine like that once. A picture. On a poster.
Her lips parted as her words stopped mid in her throat.. Rachel?
Chloe spoke boldly, her voice breaking into thousands as the noises left her mouth. “Sera?”