Chapter Text
It was the day before Thanksgiving when Susan said she wanted to meet them. She told them to wait at the cemetery.
The morning’s rain had tapered off, but it was still gloomy, and the damp cold leeched the warmth out of Max’s bones, leaving her as chilled as the wet, glistening headstones. She shivered. She hated being here. This was the place Chloe would’ve been buried if she’d died. It was the place the people who’d died instead of Chloe were buried.
An arm snaked around Max’s waist and she gratefully pressed herself against Chloe’s warmth. “You did it, Max.” Max stiffened. She had caused the storm. She had put those people in those graves. She had– “You solved the case.”
Max let out a long breath and tried to relax. “I... I guess so.” From the parking lot, the bright yellow police tape was visible, flapping in the breeze. Standing on the edge of the crime scene tape, Susan stood gazing into the open grave, just as she had for the past twenty minutes.
Just as she’d promised, Susan had gone to the police. And it had been enough. They’d checked the grave and they’d found Nathan Prescott. Mark Jefferson’s last victim, buried with his first. He’d almost gotten away with both, but now they’d be able to prosecute him. They’d be able to prove to the world what a monster he was, that all his art was just an excuse to control people, to hurt them when he could.
“I just wish...”
Chloe’s arm tightened around her. “You can’t save everyone, Max.” Her voice was so sad and it was only then that it really dawned Max that this was where William was buried too, that Chloe must hate this place every bit as much as she did. Clouded with grief, Chloe’s beautiful blue eyes stared out at the headstones in their orderly rows.
Max knew she could never erase that sadness–she had tried and just made a mess of things–so she turned and buried her face in Chloe’s neck. “I’m so glad you’re here.”
“Yeah it’s the perfect spot for a romantic getaway.”
Max jerked back. “Shit. I didn’t mean here, here. I meant–”
But Chloe, grinning, leaned in and kissed her.
When they parted, Susan was making her way towards them. It was impossible not to notice her red-rimmed eyes, but Max thought better than to comment on it. Susan cleared her throat but her voice still sounded gravelly when she spoke. “I hope he gets the death penalty, but I suppose that would be to much to expect.”
“Would suit me fine,” Chloe grumbled.
Susan’s lips quirked, but then she shook her head and sighed. “I don’t know how you figured it out, but thank you. And...” She reached into her coat pocket and pulled out something wrapped up in a plastic bag. “A deal’s a deal.”
“Finally.” Chloe reached out but Susan drew back, her brow creased.
“Why do you need this so badly?”
Chloe rolled her eyes, arms crossed over her chest. “It’s David’s. My stepfather. I need to give back as like... a peace offering.” She shrugged. “It’s Thanksgiving, right? Time for family and shit.”
Susan snorted. “In my experience it’s mostly the latter.”
“Same.”
“Well... here you go.” Susan handed the package over to Chloe. Chloe peered inside the plastic bag and gave a curt nod.
“We have something for you too,” Max said, reaching down for the backpack resting at her feet. Unzipping it, she pulled out the metal box that they’d found under the tree. They’d cleaned it up as best they could and replaced everything that had been inside. She held it out to Susan.
For several seconds, Susan didn’t move but just stood fixed, staring as if the box were an asp that might strike at any moment. But then, taking a shaky breath she wrapped her hands around it and hugged the box close to her chest. She squeezed her eyes shut, lips pressed together.
“You should tell your kid.” Susan’s eyes sprang open at Chloe’s words. “She might think you were less of an ogre if she knew why you hated Jefferson so much.”
“Maybe. He can’t claim the Prescotts are framing him anymore so maybe she’d even believe me.”
“I think she will,” Max said, offering a reassuring smile.
Susan’s gaze moved from Chloe to Max and then she sighed. “Well... Thank you. And good luck.”
She turned and walked towards her car without waiting for a reply.
Chloe’s eyes followed her retreating form. “You really think we did the right thing?”
Max shook her head. “I think we did the only thing. She has a daughter, Chloe. How would you feel if your mom was a convicted felon?”
Chloe grimaced. “Speaking of mom, are you ready to hit the road?” She glanced in the direction of the junker. Their camping gear and scant belongings were packed up in the bed of the truck under a waterproof tarp. “There’s turkey and fixings with our name on them.”
Max smiled. She knew Chloe wasn’t convinced that Thanksgiving could be bearable, let alone fun, but at least she was trying. “Could we make a pit stop first? I still need to get a final shot for the Kickstarter project. We’re already fully funded and now it looks like they’re going to have to extend the print run we planned. So I really need to send Warren the last shot.”
Jingling the keys Chloe motioned towards the trunk. “Say the word. After all, I am your chauffeur.”
Reaching up, Max brushed a kiss over Chloe’s lips. “Chauffeur and faithful companion.”
“Hella,” Chloe whispered against her lips.
#
The beach wasn’t what Chloe had expected when she’d asked Max where she wanted to go. She’d already seen a beach shot in the mockups, with splintered docks and wreckage of fishing boats. But aside from some flotsam and jetsam on the sand, this spot was free from any trace of the storm.
As Max set up her tripod and began fiddling with the camera settings, Chloe walked just above the surf line, kicking at the sand with her boots, hands stuffed in the pockets of her jacket. It wasn’t T-shirt weather, but at least she couldn’t see the puff of her breath today. The nights were getting cold and even with a sleeping bag-buddy and lots of blankets, she’d be glad to ditch the camping routine. The Blackwell dorms would be open after the holidays and the plan was to crash there.
“Chloe?” Shifting between the camera display and the scene in front of her, Max wore an air of nerdy concentration. Adorbs. “Can you stand over there?” She pointed.
Raising an eyebrow, Chloe moved to the designate area. “Here?”
Max peered down at her camera. “A little to the left.”
“Your left or mine?”
“Mine.”
“Here?”
“Yes.”
Max didn’t look up from the screen. “Okay now take off your jacket.”
Chloe’s eyebrows shot up. “Wow, Maximus. If you’re trying to get some sexy pics I’m hella up for it but could we do it somewhere a little warmer?”
Max’s head shot up. “What? No. I–” She finally saw the expression on Chloe’s face. “Shut up. And toss your jacket over there.” A she spoke, Max unzipped her own jacket and set it down next to her tripod. Pausing to adjust one more setting, she hurried over to Chloe. “Strike a pose,” Max said, and wound an arm around Chloe’s waist.
Chloe had enough time to put her arm around Max’s shoulders and look up at the camera before it flashed.
“Don’t move,” Max said and slid out from under her arm, running back up to the tripod to check the results. After a few seconds she pronounced them to be good and told Chloe she could put her jacket back on.
“I thought you said you needed another picture for your Kickstarter,” Chloe said, zipping up her jacket, the skin on her arms already covered in goose bumps.
“I did. Let’s get back to the truck and I’ll show you.”
Once there, Max booted up her laptop and pulled up the mockups for the project. She flipped through till she reached the final page. The right panel was blank, but on the left was a scanned-in image Chloe recognised. Two girls, one with shoulder-length blond hair, and one with a long brown braid, stood together on the beach, grinning broadly. Chloe stared. “God, we look so young and...”
“Happy?” Max whispered.
“Yeah. Poor kids. No idea about the shitstorm coming their way.”
Reaching for her camera, Max showed her the photograph from today, the two of them, holding on to each other on that same beach. “Are you okay if I use it as the final shot?”
For several seconds, Chloe looked from the photo to Max. “Are you sure?”
Max nodded. “I’ve been thinking about it for weeks. But everything that happened started with us so...”
Chloe’s eyes flicked to the screen, to that blank page where the new photo of them would go. Below it was a single line of text:
Sometimes the world changes you. Sometimes you change the world.
Her breath caught. For anyone else reading that, they’d see it as some serious positivity bullshit, the book ending with the reminder that it was a charity project that would help to rebuild homes–to change the world. But that wasn’t what it meant for Max. Max had literally changed the world. She had changed it in all the ways the previous pages of that book illustrated. Every page of that book was a confession. Just like Jefferson in his classes, dropping hints about his real work.
“Max...” She looked up and the expression on Max’s face told Chloe all she needed to know. Just like when they’d been there by the lighthouse. She could still hear her, standing there on that bluff. ‘This is my storm. I caused this. I caused all of this.’ Always blaming herself. As if she’d woken up one morning and decided to have superpowers. As if she possibly could’ve known what would happen next. “You put Jefferson away. If it weren’t for you and your powers he’d have walked.”
Max’s eyes dropped to the camera in her hands. “I know. I just...” Slowly she put it back in its case, still not meeting Chloe’s eyes.
She’d wanted to save everyone. She’d wanted to make everything okay. But now all they could do was pick up the pieces.
“Hey I never did show you the pics Joyce sent, did I?” Fumbling in her pockets until she found her phone, Chloe pulled up the pictures of the lot where her house had once stood–a lot which had, until recently been covered in splintered wood, trashed furniture, and gobs of wet insulation. “They’ve cleared all the shit out of the way.” The foundation slab was all that was left.
Max stared at it. “There’s nothing there. Just the slab.”
“Yeah. They can start fresh now. When the insurance comes through.”
“Start fresh,” Max murmured, staring at the phone screen.
“Just like us, right?” Max looked up, surprised. “Look, Max.... Before, I just wanted to burn it all down. But with you...” She shrugged, struggling for the right words and envying the way Max could say so much through a single photo. “Shit, it’s... It’s like... I want to build something.”
“A sand castle?” Max suggested, her lips quirked.
“A life.”
“Wowser.” A blush was creeping up Max’s face, washing out her freckles. Chloe did then the only thing she could. She leaned in and, taking her face in her hands, kissed Max, long and slow.
She didn’t have words for all this mushy shit, so she tried to tell Max with her mouth, with her hands, with the heat of her body. Maybe the world had torn them down and left a mess of debris, but they could clear it away and build something better. They could do that together.
Out of breath she pulled back and grinned at Max. “Step one: Thanksgiving dinner.”
Max was still clinging to her, hands around her waist, her blue eyes bright, her soft lips parted in a smile. “Step two: make the world bow.”
And looking at Max, Chloe knew they would. No matter what the world threw at them, they had a foundation to build on. They’d clear it and build and rebuild no matter how many times they had to. Together.
The End