Chapter Text
The bronze statues and orange leaves around Caledon University are the only pieces untouched by the storm. The storm- Safi- Max. The universe. Whatever people want to call it.
The brick façade of the University is in recovery, as are the surrounding areas. Benches are blown over, trees have lost their branches. Some have become completely unrooted fallen over on their side deep in the snow.
Students and faculty are still shaken by the events, some are recovering better than others. Professors share more talks over cheap indoor coffee in the FAB gallery than before, their offices mostly left empty and doors closed. Presence is important, Yasmin had said in her speech and printed hand-outs.
Students meet in the library, help clean up the campus outside, fix benches and share a cozy drink inside the Snapping Turtle. They are slowly healing together.
Max has been upfront and forward about everything she knows to her friends. Their little group had gotten close but soon split in their own respective friend-circles after a while. The atmosphere has become lighter during and after class though.
“Also; you all know I am not big on words or etiquette. But even in this class you can fail and that might impact your degree so- please turn in your essays and assembly-photos until the end of the week. Of course-“
Max looks around at her students. “- if any of you want to be free of your work earlier, come find me in the FAB building. Coffee station.”
She smiles as her class is being dismissed. Students slowly clear out.
The DSLR camera is halfway assembled as Max gently places it back down onto her desk. It’s not just about what pictures to take- but how the things you take them with work.
Her latest class was about seeing through objectives to differ the perspective of what lays beyond them.
Like looking between two worlds.
Max sighs to herself. She still hasn’t quite processed the last few weeks. The last few decisions.
Saving Safi. Saving her friends and colleagues stuck in that broken timeline. Safi’s suggestion. Safi on the overlook. Shooting her own mother, Yasmin. Max refusing her offer. Safi walking off. Max ending up alone; again.
The logical part of Max regrets her decision. She should have accepted, seen what Saif was up to, not let her friend down. Be with her in this- search for herself. Find people just like them.
The emotional part of Max remembers. Arcadia Bay, Chloe, her friends, Joyce, David, Rachel, Jefferson- The mistakes undone and redone. The trauma of getting captured, drugged. Seeing her best friend get shot over and over again, choosing between a town full of people you know and love and her one true person.
Getting stuck in a loop of your mistakes on display isn’t new for Max. She has been there before, after rewinding too often. Using her powers too much.
The nightmares and parallel timelines full of horrors. She has seen them all, navigated through them by herself.
But having to actually relive them to move on- move through them years later- that’s definitely new. She can still feel the needle under her skin. Hear his voice.
Max shakes off that icy feeling running past her shoulders as she enters the Snapping Turtle and takes off green coat.
She knows the benches right ahead and in view from the bar will be free- mostly- but she will still walk right past them, turn left and sit by the backdoor, ignoring the bartender completely casually.
While slowly moving further inside the bar Max is praying as hard as she can to a God she doesn’t believe in, that those seats will be free.
Seeing Amanda- even looking at her- only reminds her of how much she fucked up. Again.
Nicely done, Max. You just wanted to be happy once in your life again and this is what you get. The universe gave you one hell of a huge fuck you.
It’s not that she does not understand- Max fucking understands, alright. Amanda wanted space, which Max accepted but then Max hopped to a different timeline where Amanda didn’t need space and made out with her. Per Amanda’s request.
Did Max ever think those timelines would combine? No. Did Amanda give her shit for “forgetting” their date and she just played along? Yes.
Will she tell Amanda that? No. Maybe one day….
Maybe once she figures it all out. Max shakes her head as she gracefully slow-walks to the empty benches by the backdoor and sits down alone.
Fuck yes. Max’s internal face smiles. No awkward gazes or broken smiles over an old wooden countertop as the bartender you a have a crush on watches you.
She knows she wouldn’t be able to resist a few glances. Apparently, she has been Captain obvious to everyone but herself.
If she falls- she falls hard.
Setting aside her bag by the couch, Max starts to write in her Journal, figure things out. Older pages obscured from view, she notes her latest thoughts. Max is smart though- this is not her main journal- her therapy.
The one she is holding at this exact moment is completely new. Bought right here, not anywhere else. Free of any memories or trauma.
“Are you also going to be a writer now?”
She doesn’t need to look up to know who is speaking to her. Max closes her eyes a little too hard before summing up the last of her inner strength and plaster a forced smile on her face.
“Amanda, hi.”
Max forcefully removes her smile and focuses on looking as neutral as possible. Chloe always said she was easily readable. She has been working on that ever since.
“Shouldn’t you be behind the bar?” Max inquires in an sad tone. She is so tired.
Amanda looks very slightly taken aback by the words but smiles regardless. It doesn’t look forced. “Can’t have one of my favorite customers walk in and not have their drink done already, don’t you think?” A whiskey, neat, slides onto the table right before Max’s knees.
Max does not have it in her to smile.
“Thank you.” Is all she says. She hopes her eyes portray the thankfulness she feels.
Seemingly, they do as Amanda smiles and lets her be. She is about to turn around when Max can’t keep her mouth shut to save a life and says:
“If you feel uncomfortable in any way- I can always convert to cheap coffee instead and give you space here.” Max means what she says. The last thing she wants is for Amanda to feel uncomfortable in her own place of work because of what Max said or did even if it means she will end up alone again.
She can handle being alone but she can not handle hurting people anymore.
“You’re sweet but I’d rather have you here than not have you here. Even if it’s just knowing you are around the corner.” She smiles at Max. “But thank you still.”
Amanda removes herself from the conversation. After finalizing the last few words on her page, Max shuts the notebook and gets ready to leave.
Usually, being raised a gentleman, Max would return the glass, pay and tip the bartender personally.
This time, however, she places it in view of the bar, takes out a few bills with a good tip, pushes them underneath her empty glass and heads for the door.
--
Blood drips from her nose, right onto her blue jeans. They stain. She can feel the liquid heavy in her nose, a sharp pain burns across her forehead as she presses her blue eyes together to see.
Her hands are tied and the muscles in her forearms burn as she puts every ounce of strength she has in them to free herself. It’s no use, the binds don’t budge, they barely move, time is running out as she hears the footsteps get louder, the person getting closer.
Her shoes kick against the steel frame of chair, trying to move somewhere, somehow but nothing is happening. The tray is out of her reach, she can make out a needle ontop of it, some sort of bottle, she can see bloodied tissues- it’s still dripping from her nose- her hands hurt- her knuckles burn. Her head feels like it’s burning-
Then he steps into the room.
“Quiet, Max. I promise. This final dose won’t hurt.”
NOOOOOOOOOOO-
-----------------
Her forehead is covered in sweat, the sheets somewhere forgotten on the hardwood floor, her heartbeat the only noise in her ears. The nightmares. Max has been having them since Arcadia Bay but she managed- she’s always had Chloe.
Chloe helped, she- made Max feel safe, seen and loved. She was there when it got really bad. She made it make sense.
Today, everything’s a mess again. She had to relive this hell alone.
With smooth fingertips Max wipes across her forehead, transferring the sweat from her forehead to her hand. Too much too soon. She just managed to be okay.
“Now it at least looks somewhat presentable.” Is quite the understatement as Max finishes cleaning up her bedroom. It’s not her first rodeo and if those nightmares continue, it won’t be her last either.
Starting to proceed downstairs Max passes her organized phot-wall of memories. Like most mornings, Max takes a glance and moves on but something is different this time. The wall still looks the same, the order hasn’t changed.
Yet there’s this weird little humming noise coming from the wall. No, not the wall- one of the photos!
Max investigates and her eyes soon land on the last picture of Arcadia Bay she ever took. The one she had just put up after Safi left, after going through her old memory-box. With the timelines conjoined again, her secret (and very efficient) hiding place had vanished and maybe it was finally time to stop hiding from the past.
For a small second, Max hesitates. She has been here before, starring at a white wall full of pictures she once took, with a decision to make.
All those years ago she wanted nothing more than to help out Chloe by going back in time and saving William. Making sure he won’t leave that day. Making sure Chloe still had that one person who loved her so deeply, making sure she won’t be alone and miserable.
But she ruined Chloe’s life instead.
Now, not wanting to go back, not wanting to stare at this wall, the wall stares back. And Max clearly knows that random sounds, humms or lights are a sign. She has seen enough to know, traversed time and universes to understand. But she also knows the risks that come with poking around.
Carefully she takes hold of the old photo frame. It’s untitled. But Max knows, how could she ever forget? The ruined that city, all of the people. She feels responsible. She could never name that photo. But she won’t go back, won’t try to fix what has been done. That’s a choice she will always feel regret for, no matter how much good she does, how many people she helps. This will forever be her biggest sorrow.
The frame looks small in her hand. The color in it is slightly faded from hanging in the sun half the time she was on the road. It looks just like the day she took that photo. A small smile appears on her face, followed by one small tear.
Max is allowed to grieve for shit she is responsible for, right? She is allowed to hurt even though she hurt others, right?
Yes. Yes, she is.
Sniffing once or twice, she stares up at her wooden ceiling, holding the frame close to her sweater, right above her heart. Her eyes are closed as she breathes in the warmth of her cabin, releasing the breath she had been holding and extending the frame back.
For a split second it looked different, almost as if there was a change in the photo. Not wanting to know and frankly not caring quite enough right now, Max hangs the frame back to the spot on the wall, looking at it once last time before descending downstairs and starting her day.
Enough broken hearts for a lifetime. Max is alone, again.
--
Throughout classes, coffee-breaks, meetings with her colleagues and friends Max can not get that strange photo of Arcadia Bay out of her head. Something about it has been bothering her to a point where her coffee supply for the day has Moses seriously concerned.
He asks about it twice or thrice but Max simply says she has a lot on her plate right now. Grading, her own photography and more. He simply nods and lets it go.
He doesn’t question her spacing out during conversations anymore.
--
Returning to her warm cabin that night after quite the torture of a day, filled with too much cheap coffee and lectures, Max takes off her snowy boots and coat. The heavy snow is still something she has to get used to.
She sighs loudly into the void of the cabin.
“Can this day just end please?” Shedding her clothes Max resigns herself to bed instantly. But something stops her. As she exists the bathroom she hears a feather-light dropping sound. As if something fell onto the floor. Like a note or a photo. Instantly turning her tired face to the wall of memories- she spots it.
The Arcadia Bay frame is gone.
Almost stumbling over a piece of thrown clothing on the floor Max finds the lost photo frame on the wooden floor below the wall. It fell perfectly in place. Max bends down to pick it up and discovers that while the picture itself hasn’t changed- it still feels off. Almost as if it has been tampered with- some parts of the photo do not align with Max’s memory. Feeling absolutely beaten down by the shitty day and exhaustion from her nightmares, Max decides to do something about it. Whatever is up with this old photo, with Arcadia Bay, she will have to go there and see for herself.
Max has to come home.
Coming back to a storm-damaged building that your daughter and her best friend somehow caused while recovering from a bullet wound is not how Yasmin expected her year to end. She also did not expect to find a note that’s been sealed on top of the boulder of folders on her desk after arriving inside her office and sitting down.
Vinh doesn’t mention anything about it or says who dropped it off.
“Vinh, would you be so kind to close the door?” Sitting down is still a decent task for her.
“Of course.”
And so Vinh does as she asked.
Grabbing a letter opener from her top drawer, engraved and golden, Yasmin opens the note.
“Hello Yasmin,
Because of a family emergency I will return to Oregon and leave Caledon University for a while. It hopefully shouldn’t last longer than two weeks.
I am sorry I am unable to speak to you about this in person and you know I would love to, but you are still recovering and I do not mean to take up much of your rehabilitation time.
Micheal is a great TA and he should be able to cover some of my classes if needed. The required material is available in the cabin. His photography is well studied and he is slowly getting to a point where he doesn’t sweat through his shirts when he speaks in front of a class. He will make a great professor one day.
Stay safe and recover well.
If you need anything, you know you can always text me.
Thank you,
Maxine Caulfield”
Yasmin reads the letter twice before folding it carefully and placing it inside one of her desk drawers. In the back of her head she tries to recall where Max is from yet it escaped her memory.
Shortly after Yasmin makes the arrangement for Michael to take over Max’s classes and she mentions the materials in her cabin. A little taken a back she looks at the drawer, now closed, and wonders if Safi has anything to do with this. She forgets the thought as soon as it crosses her mind.
The phone rings and her day starts.
--
Reggie sprints through the heavy double doors just as they are about to close and looks around the classroom. He finds his “assigned” seat, that he of course assigned himself, opens his slightly scratched notebook and pulls out a folder with his latest work.
This assignment is different but it is also right up his alley. He will smash it and he knows it. With a smug smile plastered on his face he looks ahead for the first time since entering the classroom and spots- well- not Ms. Caulfield standing at the front.
It’s that dude. Reggie is sure he heard his name somewhere before. Fact is, it’s not Ms. Caulfield. Strange but not really unusual. Visibly shrugging his heavy shoulders, Reggie ops to listen to whatever his name is as he ignores the empty seat next to him.
--
“Aaand that’s one more!” Lauren and Trent share look as Moses sighs in defeat. They have been playing their favorite drinking game at the Snapping Turtle for around an hour now and Moses is losing badly.
“This isn’t fair, it’s two versus one. Cut me some slack here, okay?” he half-heartedly laughs in the direction of the part opposite him but internally he is getting ready to scold Max for bailing on him.
“How does it feel to lose, hm? Usually it is us who empty every glass when Safi or Max are on your team!” Lauren mentions casually.
“Because then it’s fair two versus two! We work with each other as a team Perfectly, may I add.” Moses states.
“So perfectly that your team mate is nowhere to be found. Again.” Lauren pours more salt into Moses wounds without realizing. Max usually never misses a get-together without canceling. Or calling. Or randomly showing up out of nowhere with more drinks.
“Yeah, yeah, you guys enjoy your win, I’ll be right back.” Moses stands as he fishes his phone out of his jacket pocket. The messages to Max are still open and still unread. No response. Nothing.
“Max, where you at?” he whispers to himself as he heads for the bathroom.
Amanda spots Moses walk past the bar, glued to his phone, as she prepares a beer for another patron. She has not seen Max in roughly a week. Usually that is no big deal. Everyone has their own lives and the end of the semester is a good reason to get away from all of this. But Max mentioned she would be in and out, stay in Caledon throughout the break. A week is just a-
“Hey, Amanda?”
Moses’ head pokes in her peripheral and she instantly turns to him.
“Hey, Moses, what can I get you?” She asks, switching to bartender mode. Moses’ body language shifts as he slowly moves aside the wooden stools and leans his elbows on the counter top. He seems defeated.
“Have you heard from Max?” He inquires. For a split-second Amanda is wondering if Moses has superpowers too. If he can, somehow, read minds now. Or if he always could, maybe, like Max could always travel between time li-
“No. Last time I saw her was a week or so ago? She was sitting in the back writing something in her notebook.” Amanda moves closer to where Moses stands, nodding to the sofas in the back. “Why do you ask?”
Moses seems nervous, he glances around the bar a few times before speaking again. His voice unsure and full of worry.
“Maybe it’s just that a lot has happened recently and I worry too much but- ever since Safi- Max has been off. And it’s understandable, really. But she always replies to my texts or calls.” He pulls out his phone as if to show Amanda but doesn’t.
“She hasn’t been on Crosstalk or seen any of my messages for a while now. And you know Max, she’s always taking pictures wherever she goes.” Amanda thinks this over. It’s true, Max has not posted anything in over a week. But Amanda thought maybe she was just busy? Or- processing.
“Yeah, I noticed her silence on Crosstalk and- yeah, Max posts a lot usually.” Amanda leans on the sink.
- “Her classes are also taught by some dude or are straight up getting canceled.” A male voice interjects from the side.
“Reggie! Finally coming to pay your owed expenses or do I have to hire some muscle to kick you out?” Amanda jokes. Reggie scoffs and shifts awkwardly onto the nearest wooden barstool. He does not maintain eye contact with Amanda and looks instead of Moses first, who seems caught off guard a little.
“Ms. Caulfield always kept my mayhem a secret from you.” He smiles at Amanda.
“She might have but others talked, Reggie. But hey, it’s alright. For now.” She gives him a stern look that means business, but also “I know how it feels like and I feel it too. ”
It’s Moses turn to move as he slowly steps away from bar counter and heads back towards his waiting friends and unfair board game. The phone still open in his hand. “If you hear anything, will you let me know?” He asks Amanda.
“Sure, you as well?” She asks back. Moses simply nods as he disappears around the corner.
“Have you been to her place?” Reggie asks with his head down, looking sad. As always. Amanda steps forward and pushes a towel between her hands to distract herself. It does not work.
“No. Why, have you?” Amanda raises and eyebrow.
Reggie looks like he was busted smuggling drugs as he shrieks back. “No! I don’t even know where Ms. Caulfield’s cabin is. But- maybe she’s there and is just sick or something? Just thinking out loud, sorry.”
Amanda watches Reggie leave and join his Abraxes friends at a table nearby. She imagine Max sitting alone on her sofa, the fireplace roaring fire as she sits and writes in her little journal.
Something has been off about Max and no one said anything. Amanda sighs.
Maybe Reggie’s suggestion isn’t so terrible after all.
--
As she drags her water-proof boots through the snow and moves inch after inch of it aside, Amanda notices just how strange it feels to walk this path again.
Crumbles of concrete and dirt are left where once a long street ran. They must be reworking the town. Max remembers driving here in Chloe’s truck, visiting the diner Joyce worked at. A lifetime ago.
It almost feels like yesterday when she came here to check in on Max after Safi’s death. There was silence then, too, but it was for a different reason. She remembers knocking on the door, Max opening and how seeing her felt like the air around them wasn’t burning her lungs anymore.
Heavy machinery and cranes can be spotted in the far distance, among trees and what seems to be a few people hanging about. Some of them are wearing hi-vis-vests which is the only reason Max can make them out in the first place. She remembers calling out bodies under fallen trees from the same spot years before. A breeze flies by.
Amanda pulls her jacket tighter around herself and picks up the pace just a little as she spots the tiny yet so gigantic wooden cabin in the distance. It’s engulfed in darkness; all the lights seem to be turned off.
The sun peaks right above the mountains as Max squeezes her eyes shut. She adjusts her stance slightly and kneels near a broken wooden fence. She stood here once before, stood here holding a choice in her hands. A choice she tore up back then. A life for many. If she looks closely, Max is sure she can still see the footprints of where Chloe and her stood that day. But Chloe is not here with her this time.
Max does not seem to be here. Amanda circles the cabin twice, her white boots thumbing on the heavy wood outside. The privacy glass is nicely reflective yet Amanda still walks up closely and tries to peek inside. She can’t see much but notices how empty of Max the place looks. The general furniture and coffee machines are still stuck in place yet the fridge magnets are gone and no clothing is anywhere to be seen.
Almost as if she had never been there in the first place.
Most cars have been brought to the junkyard. It’s still in the exact same spot as before, just much bigger and filled with more broken pieces of her past. Max stumbles upon the little shed with memories made by people long gone. Her fingers brush against the wood as she pushes through a wooden board to enter.
“Max! Max, are you home?” Amanda tries the door but it’s locked. She is long gone.
-
Max is home.
After years of trying to move on, moving away, running away, forgetting and trying to fix this.
Max is back in Arcadia Bay.