Chapter Text

She was given a power to go back and correct mistakes. A ‘rewind power’, she called it. Early on, she tested the power by not only correcting mistakes, but by making herself seem smarter, cooler, and more popular. It made her sick to her stomach thinking about the earlier days; she felt naïve and ignorant. According to her phone’s calendar, that time was only about a week ago. It seemed like a lifetime had passed between then and now, and she vowed to never manipulate time again without a specific purpose.

The only thing that mattered right then, right there in that moment, was the past and the future. She no longer cared about the present. As she came to this realization, a butterfly landed on her best friend’s casket. Through red, irritated eyes, she couldn’t control her face, as a smile was forcing itself through her slightly chapped lips. The only two thoughts that ran through her mind were the kiss they shared in her friend’s final moments, and the word “destiny.” She would be facing a different outcome had she not listened to the girl who begged her to photo jump, once more, to save the town from a giant storm, sacrificing her best friend in the process. This best friend, who was Max's favorite person she'd ever met, in a most selfless act, gave up her life for others. She considered the blue-haired girl a hero.



Max knew a little bit about insects, and she had seen this particular insect previously. Was it a morpho, an adonis, a monarch, or maybe a hairstreak? It didn’t matter. She knew what it meant. It was azure and reminded her of Chloe, her childhood companion, who morphed into so much more than a friend during the last week, and who had stopped breathing after a bullet was sent through her in the scummy old Blackwell restroom. If nothing else, Chloe at least deserved a much better death. She was way too special to end this way. Max believed she could change this too.

Wanting to be certain about her idea, she didn’t rush to do it immediately. She knew she was going to, she was just not sure exactly when. The timing needed to be right. She didn’t want to fuck things up more than she already had. This time, she would wait for a sign from the universe. This time, things would be different.

The week following the funeral was fall break at Blackwell and she wanted to be back around her family. She would leave Blackwell, Arcadia Bay, and Oregon to live with her parents for the week. Max used the last of her birthday money to hop on a bus with a destination for Seattle.

The choice was not easy at the end. Sacrificing her best friend, saving her hometown and everyone in it, or letting the storm decimate Arcadia Bay, saving the one person she loved so much. It wasn’t as difficult a decision as it might have been for anyone else, but the only thing that mattered to Max, was the present – not the future, not the past. She wanted to be with Chloe, and she didn’t want to live in a world without the girl she cared so much about. That world was too dark for her and she thought she understood why, she was in love... maybe. She didn’t even know if Chloe felt the same way, all she knew was what her heart was telling her. Having saved the tall, blue-headed girl numerous times already, she was prepared to save her again.

And again.

And again.

And again.

And as many times as necessary.

After watching the storm destroy what they assumed was everyone and everything in the Arcadia Bay area, Max and Chloe hopped in the old, beater of a truck and simply left town, never looking back. They didn’t know where they were going. They just left.

After driving in silence, in consideration, for quite a while, Max asked her beautiful friend to drive to Seattle, to her parents’ house. She had an idea. It was a very dangerous idea, but she felt extreme grief and sadness and knew her friend felt it too. Could they ever be truly happy with this outcome? It might have been too heavy for both if they didn’t at least try and make things right. She saw the look in her partner-in-crime’s eyes, and she, too, felt the overwhelming sorrow.

It wouldn’t come immediately, but she knew the universe would surely let her know when the time was right. She didn’t want to fuck up things again, so she would wait for the perfect moment. For now, Seattle was the best place for them. For now, they were together, in the present. It was all that mattered.

Max hugged her dad first, then her mom. Being around them again helped heal her heart, at least temporarily. Chloe was still in there somewhere too, of course, but it wasn’t the same. The brunette could feel the girl's presence somehow, but missed her so very much. She told her parents everything she could, stretching the truth about reconnecting with Chloe. The truth is it never actually happened in this reality but they would never know.

Her story involved meeting up with her best friend a week prior to the restroom shooting. She detailed events such as breaking into Blackwell for a night swim as well as junkyard shenanigans and reconnecting with Joyce. They could tell immediately their little Maxine had grown up tremendously from the last time they had seen her. After the insane events of the past two weeks or so, the Caulfield’s didn’t ask too many questions. They wanted to be there for support more than anything. She seemed more distant than usual, and it was understandable. Her best friend had recently been murdered.

Max recalled holding Chloe, as her best friend hysterically broke down, “Oh, Rachel, no, no! Please not her! How can she be dead? Who does this?” The horrific memory will be forever tattooed in her mind. And that smell. God the smell! Yet, she could never tell them about any of it. Plus, she was conflicted with a whirlwind of emotions: empathy, sympathy, helplessness, jealousy, anguish, and so on. The jealousy part felt ridiculous, but there was no denying the fact that she was jealous of a dead girl. Chloe had loved Rachel Amber so much, and they shared a ton of time together.

Chloe’s step douche, David Madsen, received an anonymous tip about Rachel’s whereabouts as well as where the darkroom was located. In no time at all, Nathan and Jefferson were apprehended, and Rachel’s body was discovered. The news reported there would be no funeral. Despite being a prominent family in the community, the Ambers requested privacy and practically vanished. Who could blame them? Their daughter had been missing for months then found murdered by a student and a famous, now infamous, photography teacher. They apparently were in denial about their daughter’s whereabouts before. There was no indication they had even been looking for her, which seemed very odd to Max. She imagined, and hoped, her mom and dad wouldn’t stop at nothing to find her if put in a similar situation.

Max’s mom opened her heart to her daughter that night. She even mentioned how she regretted monitoring her texts with Chloe after her father, William, had passed. At the time, she and Max’s father thought it would be best to cut her and Chloe off completely. As laid back as they were, they practically forbade the freckled girl to speak to her pirate friend. They knew how close they had gotten, and as a young teenager, they figured she needed a complete reset to block her from the grief and allow her to move on.

Max couldn’t even remember why she lost touch with her Captain Blue Beard; she only knew it was one of her biggest regrets. Part of her hated her parents for that decision, she argued with her mom briefly but was convinced they were only doing what they thought was best. She was too weary to fight and knew her plan was to change things anyway. At least now she knew the truth, and when she sees Chloe again, she’ll tell her. “It wasn’t my fault after all, it was the parentals!”

Vanessa and Ryan together hugged both girls when they arrived. They squeezed them tighter than Max had ever felt before, and she thought they would never let go. It reminded her of when she saw the back of Chloe’s perfect head and slender shoulders after leaving the timeline where her partner-in-crime asked her to end her life. She squeezed the blue-haired punk so tightly, and she would never forget her words: “Whoa, whoa, down Max. You get one kiss, now you’re all over me?” and, “You sound high, but thanks for the morning grope.”

Max’s parents heard about the storm and were worried sick. Chloe called them from her phone en route to Seattle. Max’s phone had died, and after she charged and rebooted it back up at the Caulfield’s house, she had hundreds of missed calls and texts. Nearly half were from her parents. They didn’t know just how bad the storm was and how much damage it caused until Max and Chloe told them about the phone call Chloe received just a few hours prior.

David Madsen informed them that he didn’t think there were any survivors besides the two of them, himself, and Victoria Chase, Max’s old nemesis from Blackwell. He and Victoria ironically survived in the dark room bunker. Chloe turned the speaker phone off when her and David started arguing. She heard Chloe saying, “I don’t give a fuck. We are together. We are leaving. You can rot in that shit hole for all I care!” before throwing her phone against the dash and hanging up.

The events of the week played over and over in Max’s head as she showered for the first time in what seemed to be several days. The warm water felt amazeballs in her hair and on her body, but something kept pronging at her. What could she have done differently? Should she have given up Chloe to save everyone else? Hella no! No regrets. Even though she practically begged Max to save everyone else, she would never let her best friend die scared and all alone.

But something was bothering her. She was given a gift. Why was she chosen to hold this responsibility? Maybe she’d never know. What she did know was she still had the power. Every few hours since the storm, she rewound for a couple of seconds just trying it out. She could feel it. It was a part of her, and she a part of it.

Max didn’t know a lot about her mysterious power, she only knew she still had it, and because of that, there had to be more work to do. It chose her for some reason she had yet to identify, but as long as it was with her she felt an overwhelming burden. She had an idea but knew Chloe would be upset about what she felt she needed to do. Chloe finished her shower and laid down beside her.

In the morning, Max would tell her, but for now, she only wanted to be in this moment. It occurred to her, she and her partner-in-crime would need to discuss their relationship at some point. She held off because her idea might change things again. And the perfect way Chloe looked tonight, with the moonlight shining through her window illuminating the bluenette’s face with shadows accentuating her cheekbones, she didn’t want to upset the incredible moment. She didn’t need a camera; her eyes were capturing every move the punk made.

Tomorrow would be a reset. One she hoped Chloe would understand.

The next morning, Max awoke in her bed calling out for Chloe. She was drenched in sweat. Her bed sheets were also saturated. The freckled brunette knew her dreams were peppered with images of her now deceased best friend, but she couldn’t recall much more. Having tested her powers every few hours since the storm week, Max panicked briefly. She slept much deeper and longer than she thought she would. Her fears were calmed when she realized the power was still within her. What was she waiting for? She knew what had to happen, and it was only a matter of time before she would hold her favorite person again. That single thought alone kept her going.

Finding her phone on the nightstand, Max saw she had one unread message from an unknown sender. It was 10:07 and the message had been sent at 9:30. Assuming it was someone from Blackwell or Arcadia Bay, she laid the phone down and decided to shower before reading. She wasn’t in any hurry to deal with answering questions or chatting about the events of the past week.

The warm water felt amazeballs, but panicked chills slid from the back of her head to the bottom of her spine when she considered she might have made a terrible mistake. She was playing with fate. She was holding onto a hope of reunion not knowing the exact path. But it was more than just hope. Her love would find a way.

After drying off, and putting on her typical hipster clothing, Max noticed her mom had left breakfast upstairs on her nightstand. The scent of eggs and bacon always reminded her of Joyce, the Price household, and the diner. Everything reminded her of Chloe. Her mom wasn’t particularly bad at cooking, she just wasn’t Joyce. She didn’t have the touch Joyce did in the kitchen. Chloe’s mom cooked everything to perfection. Max finished her meal and downed her orange juice. She hadn’t realized how thirsty she had become.

Laying her empty dishes down she remembered the message on her phone. She unplugged it and snuggled back in her warm covers. The skinny hipster opened her texts and read the message:





Unknown Sender: I know who you are, Time Master. You must save everyone.





Mouth gaping open in shock and disbelief, it took Max several moments to gather her thoughts. The room was spinning, and she had to control her mind if she wanted to make sense of things. “This is it!” she thought, both excited and scared. This was the sign she’d been waiting for. Somehow, she knew what she had to do, though she was terrified. She was supposed to save the only two she couldn’t, Chloe…and Rachel. She hated what happened to the blond and somehow felt she was leading them along their path during the week of the storm.

Forcing herself to not be concerned with the text for the moment, the photographer grabbed a tattered, dusty photo binder from her bookshelf. The binder housed photos of her and Chloe’s pirate adventures from when they were kids. She was frightened, yet excited. The last time she jumped back to that era, she made things worse for her friend. This time would be different. It had to be.

Flipping through the endless pages, the hipster found the photo she was looking for. On one of the rare occasions Chloe stayed at the Caulfield’s house, Ryan took a picture of them in front of their Christmas tree, which was set up adjacent to the fireplace. Chloe had her tongue out and giving her friend bunny ears, while Max just smiled, oblivious to the fingers behind her head.

She laid the photo on her bed and began to focus. The distant sounds of a young Chloe laughing filled her heart so much a tear came sliding down her cheek as she gasped for air. She regained her thoughts and focused once more. As reality began to wink out around her, she could barely speak, “My Chloe. My Chloe. We’ll be back together soon.”

Max did not even remember falling asleep. She knew Chloe slept in her room, in her bed. Before last week, they hadn’t slept together since they were children. It felt familiar yet new and curious. They still hadn’t talked much since the storm, which was uncharacteristic of the duo. But given the traumatic events of the previous week, it made sense. Both girls were comfortable with each other. They could sit in silence and not have to say a word.

Upon waking, the freckled brunette noticed her friend’s body resting against hers in the ‘big spoon’ position. Her arm was draped across Max as if protecting her from evil forces. Max attempted to wriggle out of her ‘little spoon’ position, as she noticed a text on her phone. She saw the message was sent by an unknown sender at 9:30 and it now was 10:07. Since everyone she loved, that was still alive, was safe and sound in this house, she figured the message could wait little longer. She also wanted to lie there and gaze at her partner as she slept. Max felt more like a kid at Christmas anxiously waiting to open her presents. She couldn’t wait to meet Chloe’s gorgeous blue eyes the second she awakened. The only thing she wanted was to be right there with her, but that same nagging feeling kept creeping back in her mind.

Max got up and located the tattered, dusty photo binder on the bookshelf she used as a sort of shrine for what she considered some of the best days of her life. Captain Blue Beard and Long Max Silver took hundreds of photos together, but Max searched for one specific picture. Chloe rarely stayed the night at the Caulfield’s house, so this one was extra special to Max. It was also Christmas, one of her favorite times of the year. By the time she found the photo her bestie had woken up.

The shorter girl hugged her taller friend and lovingly explained what she needed to do. Chloe did not like the idea of Max photo jumping. She used phrases such as, “Fuck that, I will not let you leave me again!” and “No fucking way Max Caulfield, I am NOT letting you go!” But in the end, she left the decision up to the photographer, even though she was terrified of what might happen. She knew Max had to do it. Their bond was too strong to let a little thing like time get in their way. They created their own fate many times and would do so again.

Knowing Chloe was by her side, Max considered letting it go. All she wanted was to be with her Captain. But the grief and sadness she felt for the people lost in the storm was nearly unbearable. Then, when she remembered the text, Max checked her phone. She stared in disbelief, eventually showing Chloe the message:

Unknown Sender: I know who you are, Time Master. You must save everyone.

She knew what she had to do. She hoped she could save the entire town, but there was one person she specifically felt she left behind; one person she didn’t save, knowing she might could have. She should have at least tried. She wanted to blame her lack of attempting to save Rachel on the crazy pace of events. But she knew, deep down she was scared she would be the one left behind. She couldn’t quite figure Rachel out, but what she knew about the girl was Chloe loved her. How could she compete with someone like Rachel Amber?

Max felt a bit of comfort watching Chloe beg her not to do it, knowing there would be a chance she might be reunited with her old flame. The photographer knew a little bit about Rachel and Chloe’s past, but she didn’t know much. She believed the two of them were together, Rachel broke it off and had a thing with the local drug dealer, Frank, and finally Rachel hooked up with Mark Jefferson. A chill ran through her as that psycho’s name bounced around her head. Even though Nathan actually killed her with an overdose, Jefferson might as well have, as he manipulated the boy. Max quickly tucked those thoughts away.

Now she was going to go back to try and save the one person that could drive a wedge between her and the girl she loved. The final piece to her idea would be the biggest risk. Typically, she might feel that she was already taking a huge risk, what’s one more thing? But this thing involved potentially harming her punk. It could go very badly, and she hadn’t even thought about trying it before. The thought never crossed her mind. But maybe, just maybe, it could work.

After showing Chloe the text, a brief squabble about what it meant, and explaining her idea fully, both girls were on board. It was like they were pirates again heading off on an adventure. The swashbuckler with tats and ‘tude bashfully asked her first mate for a kiss before departure. Long Max Silver didn’t even let her finish the question. She was already locked in.

It was tender and sweet, and seemed to last forever. Max tingled all over with a pulsing electricity. By the end, they were just staring into each other’s eyes, blue reflecting blue, tears beginning to fill - not because they were afraid, but mainly because of their shared awareness that the other girl felt the same way. It was a pure and realized love.

Chloe squeezed her little photographer with everything she had. Studying and focusing on the photo, Max noticed the room blinking in and out of existence. She heard a young Chloe laugh, and audibly gasped like the wind had been knocked out of her. Anxiety and excitement filled her heart, and the two girls faded out.

“Whoa!” Max exclaimed, as the scent of balsam and cinnamon filled her nostrils. The camera blinded her with a bright white flash for a moment, and before she could fully react, she felt a tight squeeze around her shoulders.

“Max, oh god, Max!” Chloe called out not loosening her grip in the slightest. “This is wild!” She looked around, mouth hanging open in disbelief. Looking at her arms and hands and body, her eyes were filled with shock. Even her voice sounded different.

Ryan looked at the young girls curiously. “You know you two have been together every day for like two months straight, right? How you keep that enthusiasm for each other, I’ll never know.” He chuckled as he removed his Santa hat and left the room disappearing into the perimeters of the picture.

“Maybe the two of us could learn from them,” Vanessa playfully commented from the distance. Her voice sounding warbled and muffled.

Holding each other tightly the two pirates sat down on the couch admiring each other’s younger bodies. They didn’t want to let go, but Max knew it wouldn’t last long.

“God I can’t believe you just jumped with me!” Max raved after removing her eye patch. There was so much she wanted to say, but she knew she only had a brief few moments before they’d be back in the present. “We don’t have much time.” Her power felt more potent the last week or so, but this seemed insane. “The next part usually involves a jump to the present with me not remembering what happened; you remember, like after the Vortex Club party.”

Upon hearing herself mention the party, she wasn’t sure if it actually happened, or if Chloe was even alive at the time. Tears were forming in Max’s adolescent eyes, and she wasn’t sure if she could hold them back. Her sense of urgency was almost overwhelming and her blood pumped heavy beneath her skin. “We need to do something right now to slightly change things; to change what happened to Rachel. Dammit think, Max!”

“What if we write ourselves a note, uh, our future selves?” Chloe calmly asked, moving her shoulders towards her ears in a shrugging motion. Max usually had to try and figure things out alone, but this was a new experience. She felt a sense of comfort and trust knowing Chloe was there with her. Looking deep in the taller girl’s clear, blue eyes she smiled and knew everything would be fine.

Considering for a moment, Max replied, “That could work! But we need to make sure things only change casually. Otherwise…” she didn’t want to think about it, “I can't see you in pain in a wheelchair again, Chloe.” It was a memory she wished she could forget, but those type of memories were starting to pile up. “I can’t watch you die again!”

“Mom!” the freckled brunette called out. “Will you help us?”

Vanessa appeared and approached the girls. “Of course, what do you need?” Her hands were on her hips, elbows pointing outward.

“Will you bring us an envelope and some paper? We want to write ourselves a note, then you put it somewhere safe. Mail it to Chloe a week before her nineteenth birthday, sort of like a time capsule.”

“Oh, is that all,” Max’s mother giggled. “Let me get right on that.”

“Mom, please. This is super important. Please!” Max looked her mother directly in her eyes hoping her seriousness was received in a convincing manner.

“Okay, okay, sweetie.” Vanessa left and returned with an envelope, a pen, and a piece of notebook paper. “Here’s a sticky note too. Just write what you want me to do, and I’ll do it.” She walked away disappearing again into the distance, leaving the two girls to themselves.

Max quickly and thoughtfully wrote out a letter on the notebook paper, put it in the envelope, sealed it, added Chloe’s address to the front, then attached the sticky note with directions. “Chloe, this has to work! It just has to!”

The older girl squeezed her friend and kissed her on the cheek. “You fucker, it’ll work.”

“That’s a dollar for the swear jar,” Max giggled through uncontrolled sobs as the edges of reality began to burn out of existence.

“I love you so much, Chloe Price!”

“I love YOU so fucking much, Max Caulfield!”

“Another dollar for the swear jar…”

Several years back, they moved from Arcadia Bay to Seattle because of work. They uprooted their young, teenage daughter and abandoned everything they had known. Vanessa felt terrible about forcefully ending the relationship between her daughter and her best friend. It wasn't like she insisted on their friendship ending, but Max would begin at a new school in a new town and needed to completely start over socially.

It seemed right at the time, but she didn’t know if it was anymore. Max’s best friend had just lost her father, who happened to be a very good role model and father figure for the girl. They, unfortunately, had to leave Oregon the same day as William’s funeral still dressed in their nice blacks. She should have at least allowed her daughter to stay with Chloe during that time; at least another week or so. She should have encouraged texting, phone calls, even a visit or two, not prevented them from contact. They felt the death in Max's life would surely impact the girl, and distance seemed to be the correct plan of action.

One day, when she was cleaning the garage, she rediscovered an envelope containing a letter in an unopened moving box. Things had been hectic around that time and this one had apparently been put aside and forgotten. Realizing what it was, she knew what she had to do. Her daughter asked her to send it to the friend she would eventually be forced to leave behind. There was a sticky note with directions still scarcely attached to the front. The timing couldn’t have been much better. The note, written in Max’s young teenage handwriting, indicated the letter should be mailed on March eleventh of that year. Currently, it was March second. This would be Vanessa’s main goal the next week. She was determined to fulfill her daughter’s wishes in an attempt to make things right.