Chapter Text
El never could’ve imagined that Max would be on what looked like her deathbed. She was pale, eyes sunken, and worst of all, broken. She looked almost lifeless, if it wasn’t for the constant beeping of the heart monitor in her ear reminding her that she’s still here.
The monitor was almost comforting, a reminder that her efforts worked. She didn’t completely fail Max.
She couldn’t help but feel a longing ache in her heart every time she glanced at Max, growing with each and every moment. She pushed down that ache, knowing she had no right to long for Max.
El felt… guilty. As if this was all her fault, which she knew only was to an extent.
She never intended for any of this to happen, she couldn’t have predicted it, let alone prevented it. She was in California by no fault of her own, she had no one else to reasonably live with. Her closeness with Max didn’t cause it, she reasoned, as she didn’t even know Chrissy, or Fred, or Patrick.
Well, maybe it was actually their drifting that caused it rather than their closeness. Maybe it was her fault.
Suddenly, it became clear to El that she did not ever send letters to anyone but Mike, practically ignoring everyone else in her life. Ignoring her friends. Her best friend. Her Max.
The more she thought about it, the heavier her shoulders felt, sinking lower until the muscles between her neck and shoulders couldn’t give any further.
She felt her heart sink a little more as she looked at Max. This was her first time seeing her since getting back from California. Nearly a whole year without the one person who tried her absolute hardest to make her feel normal.
Max didn’t ignore the fact that El had powers, but she never used them for her own benefit. Max took her to the mall, had a sleepover, showed her what it meant to find herself. She did normal, simple things with El, treating her as if El hadn’t completely mistreated her the first few times they interacted. She was really glad that Max didn’t know it was El’s fault she fell off her skateboard the first time she saw Max (but Max didn’t see her).
Gosh, she missed her so much. Now she was here, right in front of her, and she still missed her. Max was here, but she wasn’t here.
They stood at the side of her hospital bed, eyes scanning over the casts, the hospital gown peeking out from under her blanket, her neck brace. It was all awful.
There was a heavy, uncomfortable silence in the air, no one daring to break it just yet. The corners of her mouth tugged into a slight frown, her eyebrows furrowing together in sync with her mouth. She took a step back and walked to the door until she felt a firm hand on her now-tensing shoulder, holding her in place.
“She would be so glad you’re here, you know that, right?” a quiet, questioning voice called out.
Lucas.
The one person who was truly there for Max in her time of need. Her desperate, desperate need.
El recalled his cries, made up of broken sobs and yells. His bleeding face and bruised body, the least of his worries in that moment (and even now).
She turned to look him in the eyes—well, eye, on account of the swelling-- her lips parted as if she wanted to speak, but no words came out, save for a pitiful attempt at a sound.
“I-,” she started. Her eyes flickered back to Max, and she felt her eyes practically swell with tears.
“I can’t.”
His face softened, eyebrows pinching together pitifully. He brought his arm down, crossing them to almost armor himself. His gaze shifted downwards, he couldn’t blame her. It was a horrific sight for everyone, but he and El were affected far more deeply than the others. Seeing her like this was like standing over her at an open-coffin funeral.
“Okay,” he said in the gentlest tone. She did not hear even an ounce of anger, of disdain, nothing. His voice was kind, understanding.
The tears in her eyes were begging to fall, and she walked out of the room, arms crossed and hands squeezing herself so tight there would certainly be leftover redness later.
No one attempted to follow her, understanding that she did not want to see anyone at this moment.
Almost anyone.
The only way she would feel better is if she heard Max call out her name, angry that El would even consider walking out on her for even a moment. El felt that she deserved to be yelled at, to feel bad. Max would never do that, though, and that only made her feel worse.
Her legs moved beneath her without knowing where they were going, her head tilted down and face barely visible through the cinched hood over her head. After about a minute of walking, she bumped into Nancy, there waiting on Mike. Nancy looked at her for a moment before realizing who it was.
“El? What are you doing? Shouldn’t you be with the boys?” She softly questioned, her eyebrows knit together with concern for the girl who was very clearly trying to not look up. She tilted her head, trying to get a good look at El who deliberately avoided her gaze by tilting her head further down.
“I am… leaving.” she whispered, trying to keep her voice steady, but instead it came out shaky. Her eyes were glued to the floor to the left of Nancy, focused on a very interesting small crack in the tile floor beneath them.
“I can give you a ride once Mike is ready… if you want? Whose house are you going to?”
“No.”
El’s voice was firm, and she continued forward without ever looking at Nancy, refusing to let her see the stray tears racing down her face. She felt Nancy’s gaze follow her out as she pushed through the hospital doors.
She didn’t care, never looking back and rather looking at the darkening sky. She had to get home as quickly as she could lest she get soaked in the incoming rain.
You are bad, she thought to herself. Just like the bad men. You put Max here. This is all your fault.
She ran as if there was no tomorrow, rushing home so that she could stop thinking. Home. If she could even call it that anymore. The cabin was run-down, dusty, and smelled awful. There had to be a mold outbreak in there, if not mold she was not sure what else that smell was.
She walked in anyway, straight to her room, onto her disgusting bed, and curled into herself.
She stared into the wall next to her bed, deciding that there was nothing better for her to be doing. Not cleaning, not changing clothes, not attempting anything. Just… laying there.
After about 20 minutes passed, she closed her eyes and felt herself sink. She was now standing in the void, trying to find Max. She walked for what felt like forever, though in reality it was only a few minutes, through the watery void.
Eventually… she found her. But she wasn’t in Max’s head. She was simply observing her in her hospital bed. The same Max she had just embarrassingly ran away from so hopelessly.
Was Max still in there?
Alive?
She had no idea. El felt as if she had no right to try and push further to find Max, but still she pushed. She pushed and she pushed and she pushed. Her mind made no progress in finding the real Max.
She slowly stepped over to the side of Max’s bed, looking down at her. Nothing. No movement, no signs of life beyond her shallow breaths. Absolutely nothing. She reached out and… poof. She was gone. El’s eyes opened and welled up with tears once more.
“Stupid,” she started. “Stupid, stupid idiot,” she harshly whispered. Her hands moved up to her face, wiping the blood off her nose, ignoring the tears, then to her head.
They were trying to grasp for hair that was no longer present. She had almost forgotten her head was shaved, until now.
Her hands harshly ran over her whole head, as if confirming information she already knew. She knew her hair was gone; it had been days. But once more, there was nothing to ground her like she had done previously with grown-out hair. She would tug and put fists in her hair when panicked, a harmful self-soothing tactic. Now? Nothing.
Her breathing became heavy and rapid; her arms shook with every breath. Suddenly, she let it all out. She screamed. She screamed so loud she heard birds flying off branches outside the cabin, so loud the dust on the wall in front of her was disturbed out of their formerly settled places. Her scream filtered down into a loud, heartbroken wail of agony. She cried out Max’s name over, and over, and over again, as if she were trying to summon her. She wished she could summon her.
Her mind was full, achingly so. Full of Max. Full of their shared memories, the many sleepovers they had together, and the nights she spent with Max after Billy died. Their last sleepover together before she moved. Their last hug.
Her mind paused, only for a moment.
Their last hug. The last time they hugged in person was before she moved. That was the last time she truly held Max close, close enough to feel her heartbeat and be able to breathe in her scent. They did hug in Max’s mind, but it wasn’t real. It felt real, but there was so much tension, so many words left unsaid in that situation. They didn’t have enough time--El didn’t have enough time to say everything Max deserved to hear.
How much El missed Max, how much she loved her. Loves her, she means. She loves Max so much it hurts. She loves her more than Mike, which she knew she shouldn’t, but she couldn’t help the way her heart would swell each time she and Max were together.
She remembered braiding Max’s hair, savoring the times she had fingering through Max’s shiny ginger hair that practically glowed in the sunlight that would peek through her window. She remembered the day Hop came home drunk, yelling about the 3-inch rule, until he saw Max in the room. He apologized so quickly, simply glad it wasn’t Mike being a “disgusting teenage boy” to his daughter. That made the two of them share a look, then burst out laughing.
Gosh, she missed that. That summer was the best one she’d ever had, and possibly the best she ever will have. She thought about how the summer ended with her moving away, with that being the last time she would see Max until today. Max. Max, Max, Max. The Max she walked out on just now, just like she walked out of her life at the end of the summer. How did Max feel after the first month? Was she mad at El for not writing? She had every right to be.
She hoped Max had been okay up until now, but it’s not like she could ask. Hey Lucas, was Max okay after I left? Yes? No? Thanks for letting me know! she thought, groaning at her idiocy.
Her eyes grew heavy after such a long episode of crying, yelling, and heavy breathing. She let them close, eventually falling asleep.