Chapter Text
Max watched Furiosa and the Wives drive onto the platform, carried up and away into the Citadel. Furiosa peered over the edge, scanning the crowd, he assumed looking for him. Their eyes caught, and he nodded in recognition. He wasn't leaving. She seemed to understand this, and turned back to the wives, as if putting him in the back of her mind for later.
He lifted his hood, and pressed on through the crowd, brushing past leathery hands reaching for him. It was a little weird, but he mostly understood the motive. He must think he's a hero, however wrong that would be. They watched him and revered him for what he had done, how he had helped in the killing of Immortan Joe. He still wanted out as soon as possible though. The dry cracked hands reached for him, just stretching to get a taste of a legend, a man who was barely even real to them, to anyone. He was tired and hurting, and just needed time.
He pushed his way out of the crowd, and walked until he was alone on a shady side of the Citadel, tucked just around an unseen corner. He needed some quiet as well. His head hurt from the arrow that had nearly (?) punctured it, and his hands were aching. He couldn't feel anything in his right thumb, index, or middle finger, which was more than a little concerning. His ribs felt bruised too. He sank down onto the sand, and pulled out a half full flask of water from an inside pocket, taking a drink. The water was like a perfect fix, but the bliss only lasted a moment. Sooner than he wanted, his mouth felt dry and sticky again, asking for more. He swallowed thickly.
His bad hand was all gross and bloody, having had a dull arrow enter and exit it twice, though the blood was mostly dried and crusty by now. He sighed, and dug through his pockets for any cloth he could find. He had a small strip of cloth in a hidden side pocket of his jacket.
Carefully, he took out his flask again, pouring just a little bit of water over his hand. The dirt seemed to melt off his skin. He didn't have nearly enough water left to be using it up on something as trivial as a hand wound, but this felt important. He wrapped the cloth around, and looked up to the horizon, which was still dusty brown and wobbly from heat. He scanned to the side, shocked to see a small Warpup peering at him from around the corner of the rock outcropping, a few metres away. Surprised, he stood up on reflex, nearly dropping his water, and scaring the little thing away.
Weird. What was a Warpup doing all the way out here? He thought nothing of it, and sat back down to finish wrapping his hand.
He supposed he should go back, you know, get some water, check in on Furiosa, but he hesitated. The temptation to just leave, get out, count on no one but himself was too tempting. It was freedom, what he wanted, but it seemed an awful lot like betrayal in light of everything that had just happened. If he left, no one he cared for could get hurt, and he wouldn't need them.
They wouldn't need him. He could just drift, unattached. If he left, it could all go back to the way it was. After all, Furiosa would take far better care of the boys than he ever could, and that was a fact he was fine with.
He shook his head. No, he thought, he needed to stay because they had stayed with him. Plus, he had no car and wouldn't get far with a stolen one, not if it was stolen from the Warboys. It was pretty much a guarantee that they wouldn't let him get anywhere with their things.
With a sigh, he got up, trying to dust the sand from his pants. It didn't do much.
He walked back towards the garage, to see that they had left the water on, and it was pouring down being collected by the Wretched. He didn't particularly want to shove through a crowd, but one has to break a few eggs to make an omelette. He missed omlettes.
He pushed through the crowd, mostly getting pushed through the crowd, and filled up his flask first. The opening was small and it was a pain to get any water into it, but eventually he figured out the angle, and it started filling up. The Wretched weren't to bothered anymore, now that each of them had gotten enough water to last. They didn't bother Max while he filled up his various bottles.
Without any warning, a ghostly little face appeared in front of him, as if melting out of the waterfall.
“Augh!” He scrambled backwards, getting jostled by the crowd surrounding him.
A Warpup stepped out of the water, and he realized it was the same one that had been looking at him earlier. The only difference now was that its war paint was dripping down its face, giving the effect that its eyes were melting down its cheeks. It looked shocked, big eyes staring wide.
Max frowned at the little thing, like he was asking “why are you here?” silently.
“You,” the little thing said in a squeaky voice. Max pointed to himself and tilted his head, confused. The little boy pointed to him. “You were there,” it said, stepping forward. Max stepped back.
“Where?”
“When they corpsed the Immortan.” The little thing looked completely in awe.
“Mhmm,” Max answered, despite his confusion.
The pup's eyes lit up, and it gasped, before scuttling off to God knows where.
Weird kid. He took out his canteen next, and began filling it.
Once he was finished filling up all his various water bottles and things, he made his way through the swarm of people towards the elevator. The guards recognized him from the production he and Furiosa had put on with the Immortan’s corpse. They let him up, and he slipped away through the halls. By pure luck got himself into the garage mostly unnoticed. Surely it couldn't be that hard to find his way upstairs to wherever Furiosa was.
The little pup he'd ran into earlier was nowhere to be seen, which was just as well, ‘cause he didn't want to talk, least of all to some kid who didn't know anything about anything.
He slipped through the garage, escaping to a stairwell leading farther up with only a few boys calling after him with a “hey!” or a “Whatcha doin’ down here!”
He found his way upstairs through halls and staircases, but after that, he got completely lost. It clearly hadn’t been designed for wanderers to find their way. He was about halfway to where he thought he'd find Furiosa, when he heard footsteps.
He whipped around only to find the little Warpup standing behind him.
“Why're you here?” it asked, staring up at him. Its war paint had been fixed, mostly, save for a couple black drips that seemed out of place. If Max didn't know better, he'd say it had never been under a waterfall at all.
“Furiosa.” He kept walking, and the pup had to jog to keep up with him.
“You know her?” it asked, incredulous. Max nodded. The little thing was still jogging alingside him. He couldn't shake it, even as he turned a sharp corner. “Why're you goin’ down the wrong way then?” the pup asked.
Max stopped in his tracks, and the kid looked at him expectantly.
“I'll show you?” it offered. Max nodded, and the pup jumped up and down a couple times.
“I'll show you! Yes yes! I’ll show you!” The pup ran in the direction they had come from, and Max wasn't having any of it. “C'mon!” The kid was practically jumping up and down.
“Y'know where you're going?” Max asked, and the pup nodded so fast he was sure its brains were all mush in there.
“Uh huh! Uh huh, I do! Furiosa's- The Immortan's room! I know!” the Warpup said. Max looked at him with slightly raised eyebrows, as if to say do you? Do you really know where you’re going?
“Yeah.” It wrinkled its nose at him. “I ain't fresh meat!” it protested, like Max's skepticism was completely unwarranted.
They walked mostly in silence from then on, the kid occasionally asking questions or making little observations about rooms they passed. Max responded to almost none of it, as he usually would.
Eventually the little guy stopped outside of a room with a much bigger and fancier door than the rest. It banged on the door a couple times with its soft knuckles. Max cringed. He didn't want to interrupt her.
“Here!!” It said, overenthusiastic, and turned towards the door, and it’s tiny arms stretched into the sky in salute to V8
“Thanks. Now scram, don't you have a job?”
“Not right now. My Lancer never came back.” It looked at the ground and crossed its arms, looking sad in that naive way that only kids do. Something pinched in Max's chest. He shooed the child away.
“Git, I gotta do important stuff,” Max said. He couldn't afford to grow a soft spot for some child. Or anyone, really.
“Im-por-tant?” The kid asked, testing the word out. Max turned to the door.
“Useful stuff. A big deal.” The pup still looked confused. Max wondered what he could say that the pup would understand. “The doin’ of historic things,” he added with a dismissive wave of his hand.
“Huh.” And with that, the Warpup scampered away, leaving Max alone in front of Furiosa's door. Assuming she was even in there, which he wasn't certain of.
He turned the handle, and knocked twice as he quietly eased the door open.
“Yes?” Furiosa's voice asked from inside, and he stepped in, closing the door behind himself. She was sitting at a table near the window, looking at a map of the Citadel.
“Busy?” Max asked bluntly.
“No,” Furiosa said, pushing away the map. Meaning yes, she was, but she would make an exception. Good. She gestured towards the chair on the other side of the table she was working at and he walked over and sat down.
Sensing he didn't want to start the conversation, she rested her arm on the table casually.
“Good timing, I'd just got everyone to leave me alone for a moment.” It wasn't hostile, just tired.
“M'sorry. Should I go?”
“No. No, it's fine. I just mean the Wives were giving me hell for being in rough shape.” She gestured towards her eye.
“Mhm. Getting better?”
She shrugged. “Got this wrapped-” she placed her hand on her waist where she'd been stabbed. Max silently apologized, 'cause one of those stab wounds was from him. “-but lost my fake arm. Other than that, mediocre.” She was completely disregarding the fact that her eye was still swollen shut, and looked weirdly damp in the sunset.
“M'kay,” Max said, having run out of things to say. He stood up and went to look out the window. “Think you've got everythin’ under control?” He asked, staring out at the horizon.
Furiosa snorted, like he'd said something funny. He hadn't meant to say anything funny. “No. Of course not.” She went quiet for a beat, as if considering it honestly this time. “But I will. I'll figure it out.”
There was a pause, and she got up to stand beside him, looking out the window. She frowned. “How'd you get in here?”
“A Warpup’s been followin' me around all day. I asked ‘n he brought me in.” Furiosa raised her eyebrows, looking at him like he was a fool. “Look, I've never been in 'ere on purpose before.”
Furiosa raised her hand in surrender. “I never said anything, Fool,” she said with a hint of a smile.
“Max,” he blurted.
“What?”
“My name is Max. Rockatansky.” There was a beat of silence while she thought about it, looking at him quizzically. He had surprised himself by saying his own last name. It hadn't meant anything to him, or to anyone in a long time, but it felt right getting it out of his head.
“Max.” She said it like she was testing out the name, turning it over in her head, in her hand. Inspecting. Dissecting.
She hummed. “Good strong name.”
He grunted dismissively, and stepped away, wandering back towards the table. He leaned over the map that she left there, noticing now it was laid out like messy blueprints. Old faded pencil was smudged, with darker, messier writing outlining what looked like gardens.
“You're keeping busy,” he said, angling the map so the evening light caught it at a better angle.
She sighed. “Yeah. I wasn't in my right mind taking it on.” She sounded discouraged.
Max looked at her and shook his head. “I can't say I know you well, but I know you wouldn'ta left ‘em.” She crossed her arm over her stomach, which he assumed was her current equivalent of crossing her arms.
“How could I? I got back and they called me a hero.” She paused, uncertain. “More’n that, I’ve gotta make it a home, now that I know the one I was looking for doesn’t exist.” She walked over, and sat back down, a little wobbly. He wondered if she'd gotten a blood bag in the couple hours he'd been away. Well she certainly hadn't rested much, that much was clear. He sat down across from her.
“What about you?” She asked.
“Me?”
“Will you stay?” She asked, and Max let the question hang in the air for a moment. He dearly wanted to leave, but for once it felt wrong. Plus, how would he, with his lack of a car? This was his very last chance to decide.
“No,” he said with his characteristic finality. “I want the pieces of my old car. Seems you might need some help sometime, too.”
She put her fist down on the table hard enough to shake it. “I don't need help,” she snapped. He quickly removed his elbows from the table, letting her stew in her outburst for a moment.
“Alright,” he said, passive.
“Alright.” she said, aggressive. Max stood up.
“I'll be around. M’gonna borrow a car.”
She sank back in her chair and touched the bridge of her busted nose. Max walked to the door. “You'll have to fight the boys for one of theirs. Or steal it,” she said. Max paused, his hand on the doorknob, and nodded. “See you around, Max,” Furiosa said, tired. Max nodded, and left, quietly easing the door closed behind him.