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[He stopped himself before calling Warren her boyfriend. That alone brings a small smile to her lips. Feels like progress. Like this little hint that he does want to try and do the things she says she needs him to. Not cross her boundaries.]

Maxine McFly, huh? Okay first, never Maxine. [She shudders.] Second, I didn't take you for a Back to the Future fan. We should definitely watch the trilogy. I bet you shit-talk all the way through the third one. [Her tone is just as amused, even a little fond, until she has to go back to the matter at hand.] But no, I'm serious. No DeLorean or Plutonium needed. I just have to focus and I can do it. And I can prove it to you.

[She glances around the cab of the truck, considering, before her eyes land on the radio. It's clearly set up to be able to play Nathan's iPod or whatever, expensive tech. But it can also still pick up FM and AM, if the dash is anything to go by. She points to it.]

Go through three random FM radio channels. I'll listen to a little bit of each song, and then I'll rewind and tell you what will play each time. You'll then go through the channels to see if I'm right. Deal?

[She could have him do the pocket thing like she did with Chloe, but... He might not feel comfortable with her knowing what's in his pockets. Hard to say.]

Everyone's seen Back to the Future. You don't need to be a twee hipster nerd to see them; they're like Baby's First Films.

( watching a movie with her feels so normal, so domestic. a regular person pastime, unlike whatever he gets up to. he's not sure he could stand it, but he thinks he'd be willing to try. )

What is this, some kind of magic trick? David Blaine shit? ( he's amused by the absurdity of it, looks around the car as if he expects there to be hidden cameras. ) You're seriously weird, girl.

( but what does he have to lose by playing this game? she seems sincere, non-threatening. if this is all a ploy for him to lower his guard, it might be working.

he sinks the keys into the ignition and turns them to click on the truck. the preset saved station is a classical one, the last thing nathan was listening to. )

...Beethoven's 8th Symphony. One of the middle parts, they all blend together. Tempo di menuetto, or whatever the fuck.

( from there, he seeks forward until he finds something more modern. ) And this is that Fetty Wap song. Vortex Club plays this shit into the fucking ground. It's called 679. Barely even counts as music.

( and to round it off, he lands on a college radio station. ) Grimes. You know her? Seems like you're kinda chick. Super weird and indie. Vic likes her... Don't know the song, but the whole album is called Visions. Will that work for your trick?

[She laughs a little as he looks around like she's hidden cameras inside his truck. That she's never been in before. Or was even aware he drove. Cute, Nathan. Super cute.

A nod, and she closes her eyes and listens intently as he not only goes through the stations, but also shares his own commentary on each one. Perfect. She's gonna abuse the heck outta that and tell him his own words... Why is she suddenly so keen to impress him? Almost moreso than she'd been with Chloe. Maybe partially because Chloe already knew her well enough to be inclined to believe her? If she can convince Nathan...

Well. She tries to commit it all to memory before reaching a hand out and focusing, working past the alcohol still in her system to rewind to the point he's taking out his key to place in the ignition. She opens her eyes and delicately rests her hand on his arm. Her head twinges, just a little.]

Wait. Beethoven's 8th Symphony. Tempo di menueto... Then, Fetty Wap, "679." You hate how much the Vortex Club plays it and consider it barely music... Third... Grimes. You don't know the name of the song, but know it's from her "Visions" album. You think her music is my type because she's "weird and indie" and you told me Victoria listens to her. And for the record... It's "Oblivion."

[She drops her hand, and motions for him to continue.]

Edited (lbr she wouldn't call her vic at this point LOL) 2026-03-10 04:05 (UTC)

( he'd just finished commenting on how weird she is when she begins. he hovers over the radio's dial, unable to divorce himself from skepticism as she parrots his own words back to him. she's right, of course. his brows furrow as he clicks through the stations. beethoveen, hip-hop, electronic indie. she'd been right about how much he hates fetty wap, and how victoria has this album on repeat. )

You've been in my car?

( she set the radio stations ahead of time... somehow...

he brings his fingers to his forehead, rubs away the headache that threatens to form there. )

What the... fuck are you doing, Max?

( he must be drunker than he thought. )

[She figured it might take at least one more display for Nathan to be fully convinced.

Is this smart? Even if she can convince him, how is he actually going to react? Especially if he's reminded again about when she says the powers kicked in. If she tells him he actually did shoot and kill Chloe...]

No, I didn't even know this was your car before tonight. [As for what she's doing... She speaks softly, the vulnerability in her voice clear.] I'm trusting you with my secret, Nathan...

[Because it's unfair of her to ask him to trust her if she's not going to do the same, right? Maybe now... There's just a part of her that wishes there was a way to show him she's a safe person for him. But another part of her is fully aware that may not even be possible.]

( when he drops his hands from his face, he's looking at her intently. there's no hostility, only focus. he's trying to will her words to make sense. eyes swimming, limbs swaying, he's going to solve this puzzle if it kills him.

eventually, he straightens up and turns to face her, one knee resting on the seat. )

Okay. Hot Tub Time Maxin— Max. Just Max. ( he's learning. ) What am I thinking right now?

That one I might have let slide purely for being the perfect pun, honestly. Kudos.

[She shifts to face him fully as well, actually bringing her scrawny legs up onto the seat with her to sit cross-legged. (She's even kind enough to toe her sneakers off first just so she doesn't get any dirt on the seats.) The seats weren't exactly made for this position, but whatever.

She smiles at him.]

You are aware you have to tell me what you're thinking first before I can rewind and tell you, right? Time mechanics. Not mind-reading abilities. The second time around you won't have to tell me. But then you won't remember me telling you this either. So why am I still telling you?

[She laughs a little. Clearly there's still some alcohol having effect here. But this has been kind of sobering already, and she's probably less fucked up in general than Nathan is. No drugs, for one thing.]

C'mon, you're fucking with me.

( that explanation is so long and detailed, it has to be a joke. a weird, nerd joke. he doesn't get her humor, apparently, but that's not a bad thing. it's nice to laugh at something beyond the misery of others. )

You're being serious? ( ... ) I'm thinking about you.

( which he wouldn't admit quite so freely were it not for the aforementioned drugs and alcohol. he wouldn't mind a re-up, if he's being honest with himself. sobering up feels like allowing the night to end, and he's enjoying the novelty of this weird, extended prank about time travel too much for it to die here. )

Oh.

[Well, that shut her up quickly. Her face has gone a little red, but her smile softens. Her eyes study her expression as she shifts a little closer. And holds her hand out again. Palm up. That's becoming a thing.]

...have you been thinking about me a lot?

Yeah. All the time. ( she's been in the forefront of his mind, especially during those days he'd decided that being away from her was best. when she offers her hand this time, he takes it and curls his fingers between hers. )

Now you're telling me you're like a... space-time witch, or something. I'm thinking about that, too. I think you're crazy, girl. You're doing some crazy shit.

( he still can't explain it, but he's drunk, and soft, and fascinated. )

Do it again, something else.

Space-time witch. [She repeats it, a little amused, but...] I like that.

[The hand in her own feels so nice, like a reassurance. She lightly squeezes Nathan's hand as he's telling her to do something else. And she has to think for a second, before...]

Okay... [She leans even closer to him, like she has to whisper to share this secret. Her free hand finds his knee.]

I can kind of use it to teleport. [Not beating those space-time witch allegations any time soon.] Because if I move, and then rewind to before I moved, I'll stay in the new position and to you it will look like I teleported. You wanna see?

( max caulfield, nosy bitch time slash witch extraordinaire. he thinks it suits her, too.

when she leans in to whisper to him, he listens intently. teleportation via time travel doesn't sound any less insane than teleportation all on its own, but that's not the concerning part. )

So, what, you'll just disappear? Go someplace else? No... stay here with me.

( vic sees him like this on occasion, sickeningly sweet and able to admit that he needs her. if only he were the one with the ability to reverse time... )

[This sweetness is doing her in. It does occur to her that maybe Nathan is on something serious, besides just alcohol or weed. Which begs the question of if he'll even remember any of this tomorrow. He'll probably think he made up any thing she does to show him her powers.]

Okay. [She whispers, moves to kiss him on the cheek.

She had only been planning on stepping outside the truck. But now she doesn't even want to go that far, either.] Should we watch people instead? I could tell you what they're going to do.

[Except she kinda doesn't want to. She kind of just wants to be as close to him as possible, to kiss him. To lay in bed with him and forget about everything else, like the weight of responsibility that comes with this power.]

( he thinks about it, a slow, sleepy consideration. he generally loves to people watch, especially people mock, but he's feeling similar to max. he thinks he'd rather turn radio back on and talk until they fall asleep in each other's arms, like something out of a movie. )

I'd be easier if I believed you, right? So I'll just believe you. If you say you're being real, then... then I guess you can time travel.

( at least for now, he'll believe her. the morning is sure to be a different story. )

Sorta sucks that you're stuck using it here. Shouldn't you be, like, buying lottery tickets? Or stopping wars?

[Oh. Right. She hasn't told him yet about saving Chloe's life.

For a moment there everything had felt next to perfect, and so quickly reality is snatching that away. Her body has noticably tensed. She has a choice here. Ruin the moment witho what she knows now... Or wait until tomorrow to do that.

Fuck it, she'll wait until tomorrow.]

I can only reverse time by a few minutes. So unfortunately lottery tickets and stopping wars are off the table. But I am still trying to put it to good use. I do want to help people.

[A smile pulls at her lips as she thinks of something.]

You know the broken window at the front of the dorms? That's my fault. Well, technically Zach's. But a football he threw hit Alyssa in the head. So I rewound and told her to move, and just in time the ball missed her but cracked that window instead.

( presuming they're operating in a world wherein she's telling the truth: )

So you're just fucking with time? Constantly?

( didn't she watch back to the future? doesn't she know how bad the consequences are going to be? he doesn't say as much, also not wanting to ruin things for once. when he's sober, he'll call her a dumbass and tell her to stop fucking with things — if he remembers to. )

You... You went back in time to stop me from fucking up. You must've. No way I got all this right in one shot.

( indeed it's been one continuous timeline where he's never killed chloe, never ripped the photos off max's wall, never received a text calling him 'cute' for his running commentary on her freckles. he knows himself better than that. )

... Don't tell me. I don't wanna know.

( and to ensure she doesn't say another word, he kisses her, leans across her crossed legs, kisses into her mouth as he thinks of the freckles running along her thighs. soft force, warm lips. the thought grows quiet and he feels better for it. he can't know. it'd be gruesome to know. )

[When he figures it out, there's a look of stunned surprise on Max's face. She hadn't expected him to come to the right conclusion all on his own like that.

"To stop him from fucking up." "No way he's got it all right." These words he's saying are telling. He knows he's doing shit that's wrong. He knows he does things he has trouble controlling. It's moments like this that clarify to her that he can be helped, and she needs to help him. He may think he's some sort of monster, rotten to the core, a total fuck-up, whatever. Max doesn't think that. She doesn't think that and she's the one who's helped stop him from fucking up. If she, of all people, can believe that... It's gotta be true. Right?

Thankfully, he shuts her down before she can give him any actual detail about how she's fixed things. He doesn't want to know. Well, that takes some weight off her shoulders, a little bit. Though she isn't certain whether it's good for him in the long run to not know... Then again, maybe it's enough that he knows she did something, fixed things. Maybe he doesn't really need to know all the details.

He kisses her, and Max sighs into it, allows the rest of the tension in her body to release as she drops his hand so she can wrap her arms around his neck instead, holding onto him and nearly pulling him on top of her.

Makeout in a car. Guess she can cross another one off of her bucket list.]

( it takes five minutes to pick up drugs.

victoria knows this because nathan is always picking up drugs for them. he doesn't give her details, says he doesn't want her getting involved in that shit. it's strangely chivalrous, how he wants to protect her more than he wants to protect himself.

while it's not uncommon for him to disappear sometimes (see: the previous week), he's good about this stuff. he wouldn't keep them waiting. and he always, always answers her texts. maybe with just a word or two, but he never leaves her hanging. the fact that it's taken this long means that something is wrong.

it's the creepass in the rv, the druggie fuck, he must've pulled a gun on nathan.

she doesn't know exactly how drugs deals work, but the weed and the blow has her imagination running wild. when it gets to be too much, she gets to her feet under the guise of "just getting some air". the smart thing to do would be to bring the football guys with her, just so they can put the moves on that druggie psycho frank, but she's not feeling particularly smart right now. she's antsy, ready for action. she'll kick a motherfucker in the face with her red bottoms if she has to. for nathan, she'll do all that and more.

no rv in the parking lot, but nathan's truck is there. it's dark, but she sees his shadow inside. what's he doing in there, hitting the stash alone? it's possible, but victoria suspects he's on the phone. his dad, they have these long, drawn out arguments, ones that end with nathan either seething or sobbing. what better time for one of sean prescott's famous lectures ?

victoria will rescue him. victoria, with powder residue on her nose. victoria, who isn't certain she can string together a sentence without slurring. she'll save him. she'll pull him back into the party where he belongs. )

God, Nathan, I was dyyyinggg in there. These poser losers drive me crazy...

( she's speaking as she yanks open his door. the interior light comes on, and for a moment, she's speaking solely to his back. she squints against the light, sees a pair of legs beneath his, sees hands clutching his neck. he turns to look at her, slowly, and below him— )

Max???

[Shit. She could rewind. She's not sure how much time she'd be able to give them if she rewound as far as she could comfortably go, but it would probably be better than Victoria catching them lip-locked. Right?

She looks quickly to Nathan with wide eyes, trying to gauge his reaction, before whispering to him. She's going to leave this up to him. Victoria is his friend. He deserves to get to decide how much she knows.]

If you need me to rewind, say so now.

( perhaps moreso than max, nathan looks like a deer in headlights. he recognizes victoria's voice, doesn't need to turn around to confirm it. he turns anyway, meets a shocked expression with one of his own. as she goes on to hurriedly explain that she thought he was "fucking dead or something," max mentions the rewind.

she's still going on about that? doesn't she know when to give it a rest? life can't all be pirates and witches. )

Vic, Jesus, don't you knock? ...Logan and I took bets. In the end, I kinda felt sorry for her, you know?

( he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, like he can't wait to be rid of her. cruelty fills in the cracks left behind by sincerity. )

Pretty slutty for a hipster virgin, too. But I got her first.

( in an instant, everything is right with the world. what was once upsidedown is now rightsideup. victoria laughs as nathan descends from the truck, out into the parking lot.

"Not like she'd get laid any other way. Poor thing... Next time, cut me in the deal. I would've put all my money on you, babe."

and vic takes a photo with her phone. "Caption: Virgin's big night out. Iconic." )

[Remember when Nathan told her to promise to run when things got shitty?

Fuck all of this. The second Vic snaps her little photo, Max is rewinding as far as she possibly can go. With the alcohol in her system, that's about to right before she mentioned people-watching.

It hurts. Emotionally (he'd really throw her virginity back in her face like that?), but also physically. Her head throbs and her nose starts bleeding, but she pushes Nathan away forcefully and hops out of the truck. She tries to run, but her vision is getting blurry... Before it goes black.

She drops to the pavement of the parking lot, out cold.]

( the sense of whiplash he gets when she goes from kissing his cheek to shoving him away is enough to make him feel off-balance. could she really be that appalled by his request for her to stay that suddenly she feels the need to run? she's pushing herself out of the truck so fast, she looks like a blur. it's all nate can do to call out after her. )

Max? Max!

( maybe she wants to go back to her friends. maybe this is too weird, being cute and cuddled up like they were. he doesn't get the chance to ask her what's wrong before she collapses. weak limbs, bloody nose. overdose? did she overdose? nathan hadn't given her anything, and no one goes from pot to heroin in a matter of days.

he crouches beside her, shakes her shoulders, tries listening to her heart. )

Fuck, Max, c'mon. Wake up. You're okay. Don't fuck with me like this. You're okay. Wake up...

( who does he call? vic? dana? ...jefferson? if anyone knows how to deal with passed out chicks, it'd be him.

in the end, nathan calls an ambulance. )

[When Max next wakes, not more than ninety minutes later, she can hear hushed voices before she even opens her eyes. And she can feel a coldness in her arm.

She groans, and brings a hand up to touch her forehead, jostling her IV. Shit.

Shit.

Memories come back first and her face suddenly feels hot, tears threatening to spill over as she opens her eyes.

Hospital. Because she'd blacked out. She'd pushed herself too much. This is bad, though. They'll notify her parents. She undoubtedly had alcohol in her system, so they'll learn that (though likely will be quick to forgive her, knowing them). Did they do tests? ...Do they show anything? Is she literally damaging her brain by manipulating time?

Gaze jumping around, she can tell she's not in a room yet. Maybe the ER, then? If they haven't had time to admit her properly, maybe they haven't had time to do tests either.

Her eyes land on Nathan, and her heart rate jumps. Thankfully, she's not hooked up to any machines - the sudden beeping upon seeing him would be hella embarrassing.]

You came with me?

[She's not sure what to do with that, considering the shitshow she'd had to rewind. The betrayal, the hurt.]

( an emergency iv and some preliminary scans, nothing that would require nathan to bring out the big guns. he owns this town, he owns this hospital. he should be able to get max a top-floor room with all the best doctors if she needs it.

if he could pull that off, it might make the hell of living as a prescott worth it.

he's leaning against the wall beside her, tapping his foot, unable to keep still. nothing more sobering than watching someone collapse right in front of you. )

You're up? Shit, how do you feel?

[How does she feel... She looks away from him, moves her gaze to the ceiling.]

Headache. A little sore on my side. [Likely where she'd hit the pavement. She jolts up suddenly as something occurs to her--]

Oh no! My camera was in my bag!

[That was Chloe's dad's. If she broke it... God, if she broke it...]

Where's my bag?

[She's immediately trying to get out of the bed, already considering just ripping the damn IV out. She doesn't need to be here. She's fine. This is overkill.]

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what a cool way to show her powers!!

why thank you!!! I like coming up with stuff like this

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🤪

omfg you're WILD

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make good choices, nate~

he's doing great 🥰

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