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by the time chloe realized something was wrong, max was already in the shower for the third time in less than an hour.
the glowing numbers on her phone screen made the time unmistakable: 3 am. the steady sound of water hitting tiles filled the room again, dragging the blue-haired girl out of her half-conscious state. her eyes fluttered open, sluggish and heavy, as they fixed on the stained and cracked motel ceiling.
she couldn’t remember the last time she’d moved. hours must have passed, but her memories were a murky haze, fragmented and distant. everything felt unreal, like she was suspended in some oppressive fog she couldn’t escape from.
what she could remember felt almost dreamlike: max tearing up the photograph, their last, desperate attempt to change nothing. then watching the hurricane devour arcadia bay, the storm swallowing everything they’d known since they were kids. when it became unbearable, they’d fled. cowards. they hadn’t even looked back.
after what felt like forever on the road, they’d stopped at a nameless little motel buried in darkness. it had been max’s idea to get one room instead of two—a quiet, unspoken promise that neither of them wanted to be apart. chloe had collapsed onto the lumpy mattress almost immediately, feeling like her body weighed a thousand pounds. her limbs were heavy, her throat tight, and her mind utterly drained. she hadn’t even kicked off her boots. her energy, her will to care about anything—it was just gone.
max, on the other hand, was the opposite. she couldn’t stop moving. every motion was frantic, almost jittery, as though her body couldn’t bear to stay still. chloe watched her flit across the small room, making excuses to keep herself busy. turning on the tv, searching for towels, rummaging through drawers for a charger that probably didn’t exist. she’d even opened and closed the window a dozen times for no reason.
then the showers started.
max had mumbled something vague about being “cold” or “dirty,” but chloe hadn’t caught the full explanation. she’d only nodded in a daze, her empty stare glued to the peeling, water-stained wall. she couldn’t bring herself to ask, couldn’t bring herself to care—not at the time.
the first shower had lasted a long time. when max finally came out, her hair was damp, and her eyes were wide—too wide, too alert. she slipped under the covers without a word, her small frame trembling as she nibbled on a nail. she fiddled with the pillows, adjusting them again and again before throwing one to the floor. then she decided she didn’t need any at all. the bedside lamp went on, then off, then back on again. her fingers worried the folds of the blanket as she flipped through tv channels, spending no more than a few seconds on each.
then, just like that, she was back in the bathroom.
“almost done,” she muttered, though chloe wasn’t sure if the words were meant for her or herself. the door shut, and the water roared to life again.
chloe didn’t follow. she couldn’t. she felt disconnected from everything, her body and surroundings a distant blur. it was like she wasn’t really there, not in any meaningful sense. she wouldn’t have believed she was still alive if not for the relentless pounding of her heart. if that hadn’t been there, she might have assumed she was long gone.
the second shower ended much like the first. max returned with red-rimmed eyes and hands that wouldn’t stop shaking. her fingers were raw, nails bitten down to the quick, some so short they’d bled. chloe wanted to say something—anything—but the words caught in her throat. max felt like a shadow to her, a presence she couldn’t quite grasp, as if neither of them were entirely real.
max curled up under the covers again, trembling, only to bolt upright a few minutes later. her movements were erratic, desperate. chloe heard the bathroom door click shut before the water came on for the third time.
this time, though, something broke through chloe’s fog. over the rush of the shower, she thought she heard something—soft, stifled, unmistakable. a sob.
her chest tightened, nausea rising like a wave. shit.
she was on her feet before she even realized it, every muscle screaming in protest. her skin prickled with chills as she crossed the room.
“max?” she called, her voice hoarse from hours of silence; if felt foreign in her own throat. she knocked lightly on the bathroom door, waiting for a response.
“i— i’m fine,” max stammered, her words barely audible over the water. “almost done. it’s just really cold…” there was a nervous laugh, brittle and hollow, that only made chloe’s unease deepen.
“it’s your third one, max. it’s late,” chloe said softly, biting her lip. her fingers hovered over the door handle as she waited for max to respond. but the silence stretched on, broken only by another quiet, shuddering sob.
the older girl didn’t think, she just couldn’t, as she turned the knob and stepped inside.
the bathroom was filled with steam, and the small space felt suffocatingly warm. max was sitting under the spray, her knees drawn to her chest, the water cascading over her back and hair. soap covered her arms, and she was scrubbing herself so hard it looked like she was trying to peel her own skin off. her nails —or what was left of them—dug into her flesh, leaving raw, red streaks. her whole body shook with tremors and sobs, but she didn’t look up when chloe entered.
without hesitation, chloe stepped into the shower fully clothed, ignoring the scalding water soaking through her jeans and shirt. she crouched beside max, gently taking her hands.
“max, stop,” chloe said, her voice firm but soft. “you’re hurting yourself. come back to bed with me, okay?”
max flinched at her touch, her sobs hitching. “i can’t,” she choked out, shaking her head violently. “i’m not clean— i can still feel it, he’s still here. i can feel him.” her words came in broken gasps, her body recoiling as though the memory itself was too much to bear.
chloe’s stomach dropped. him. it hit her like a punch to the gut, knocking the air out of her lungs. she didn’t need max to say anything more to understand. her hands tightened slightly on max’s, but she didn’t speak. she couldn’t.
instead, she reached forward and wrapped her arms around max’s trembling form, pulling her close despite the water still pouring over them both. max collapsed against her, burying her face in chloe’s neck as another wave of sobs wracked her small frame. chloe held her tightly, murmuring soft reassurances she wasn’t even sure max could hear.
it felt like hours before the tears subsided. when max finally went still, chloe shifted back slightly, brushing damp hair out of max’s face.
“let me take care of you,” chloe whispered, her voice trembling but steady. max gave a small nod, her exhausted body leaning into the girl’s touch.
chloe turned off the water, gently guiding max out of the tub. she dried her off with slow, deliberate care, mindful of the angry red marks on her skin. then she helped max into one of her old t-shirts and a pair of pajama pants from the truck, silently grateful for her own messiness.
when max was settled under the covers, chloe offered a tired smile. “i’m gonna shower real quick, okay? just for a minute. stay warm for me.”
max didn’t respond, but she didn’t protest either, which was enough for her.
when chloe finally slid into bed beside her, the girl immediately curled into her arms. chloe held her close, running a hand through her damp hair.
“it’s okay now,” chloe murmured into the darkness. “i’ve got you.”
a few minutes passed before max spoke, her wide eyes glassy and unfocused, her body trembling like a wire stretched too thin. she shifted, making an attempt to sit up, but chloe stopped her gently, placing a steady hand on her shoulder.
“i need another one, chloe,” max whispered, her voice fragile, breaking on the words. she struggled again to rise, though her movements were weak and sluggish, as if even her desperation couldn’t lift her.
“shh, it’s okay,” chloe murmured softly, though her own voice wavered. “you’ve done enough. just rest.”
but max shook her head violently, her frustration bleeding into her trembling limbs. “no, chloe, you don’t understand,” she said, her voice barely audible, almost a whimper. then, suddenly, the dam broke, and she fell apart in chloe’s arms, dissolving into sobs so raw they shook her to her core.
“it’s here, he’s here,” max gasped, her breaths coming in short, frantic bursts. “i can still feel him. he’s still here. he’s all over me.”
her words were sharp and jagged, like broken glass, cutting through the air as her voice cracked under the weight of her anguish. “i can’t get him off,” she cried, clawing at her arms as though the shame and filth she felt were tangible. “no matter what i do, i can’t— i can’t—” she murmured until her voice gave out, collapsing under the weight of her despair.
chloe stared, frozen in place, her heart pounding as realization crashed into her like a tidal wave. her breath hitched, her chest tightening with a suffocating weight that made her want to scream.
that bastard.
her stomach twisted violently as her hands clenched into fists at her sides, her nails biting into her palms. she could barely think, barely breathe. the rage burned through her like wildfire, but it was helpless rage, futile and cold in the face of max’s pain.
“what did he do to you, max?” she desperately wanted to ask, but the words died in her throat, mercilessly strangled by her own helplessness. she didn’t need to hear the answer; she already knew.
“fuck,” chloe whispered under her breath, her voice thick with guilt and fury. her hands moved on their own, pulling max into a fierce, protective embrace.
the youngest collapsed against her, her small frame shaking as she clung to chloe like a lifeline. her sobs were muffled against the girl’s chest, but the sound of them tore through her, leaving her hollow and aching.
“i’ve got you,” chloe whispered, though her voice was so soft it barely broke the silence. “you’re safe now. you’re with me now. i promise you’re safe.”
but it wasn’t enough. the words felt meaningless, like trying to cover a gaping wound with gauze. nothing chloe said could undo what had been done, couldn’t take away the pain that consumed max so completely.
the room felt impossibly still, except for max’s shallow, uneven breaths and the quiet hum of the television in the background. time stretched, the moment dragging endlessly as chloe held max tighter, rocking her gently as if that alone could shield her from the memories tearing her apart.
“whatever he did, max,” chloe whispered finally, her voice cracking under the weight of her promise, “i swear, he’ll never touch you again. he’ll never hurt you again.”
max didn’t respond. she only cried harder, her tears soaking into chloe’s shirt as she shook her head against her chest. chloe pressed her lips into the girl’s hair, her arms wrapped tightly around her as if to anchor her to the present, to keep her from slipping away again and again.
the weight of what max had endured pressed down on chloe like a physical force, suffocating her. it wasn’t fair. none of this was fucking fair. nothing ever was.
but fair didn’t matter. the only thing that mattered now was max.
*
the youngest girl’s sobs eventually softened into quiet sniffles, though her body still trembled against chloe’s. they stayed like that for what felt like hours, the world outside the dingy motel room falling silent. the girl didn’t dare let go, not until max’s breathing steadied and the tears stopped falling.
“let’s get some rest, mh?” chloe finally whispered, her voice tender but firm, as though she could will them both into some kind of peace. “you need to sleep, max. please.”
max hesitated, her fingers clutching tightly at chloe’s shirt as though she was afraid to let go. “what if… what if i can’t?” she asked, her voice breaking like fragile glass.
chloe pulled back just enough to meet max’s bloodshot eyes. “then i’ll stay awake with you,” she promised, her hands cradling max’s face as if to hold her together. “we’ll get through tonight, one minute at a time, okay? i’m not going anywhere. ever.”
max nodded weakly, her lips trembling as fresh tears threatened to spill. but this time, they didn’t. she let chloe guide her back to the bed, slipping under the covers with her.
chloe stayed close, wrapping an arm around max’s waist as she settled beside her. “close your eyes,” she murmured. “just breathe. i’ve got you.”
max didn’t close her eyes right away. her gaze lingered on the flickering light from the muted tv, her mind still tangled in a storm she couldn’t escape. but chloe’s presence—her warmth, her steady breaths—was like an anchor, pulling her back to the surface. she was alive. in the end, that was all that mattered to her— chloe was alive. she had saved her.
slowly, her eyelids grew heavy. her grip on chloe’s shirt loosened, though she stayed close, curled against her like a child seeking comfort.
as max finally began to drift off, chloe stared up at the cracked ceiling, her mind racing with every horrible possibility she couldn’t unthink. she couldn’t change the “past”, or whatever it was. she couldn’t undo what had happened, what max had seen. but she could fight for max now, protect her from the memories that haunted her.
and when the time came, she’d make sure that bastard paid for what he’d done. shit, even if it meant killing him herself.
at that thought, chloe tightened her arm around max, pressing a soft kiss to the top of her head. “you’re safe,” she whispered one last time, her voice barely audible in the stillness.
for now, it was enough.