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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.]

Your camera? Fuck your camera, Max. What about you?

( he'll buy her another camera; it's the least of his worries right now. he pushes off the wall to come closer to her side. )

Your bag's in my truck, I think. Back at school. You really need it? I'll go back for it now.

( or he'll get someone to bring it for him. that feels like the better move, since he doesn't want to leave her here alone. )

[The panic eases. The camera is safe. If she had broken it... The panic over that was probably connected to her guilt with Chloe, she's self-aware enough to realize that. Still, it would have been the cherry on the shit cake.

Though she stops trying to fully get out of bed, she allows herself to just sit on the edge of it, dropping her hands into her lap. She studies the tape on her IV.]

No, you don't... You don't have to do that. As long as it's safe.

[She's having trouble looking him in the eye. That's quickly becoming obvious.]

I'm alright. This happens if I push too far with... Um. With that ability I shared with you. It's harder to do it when I'm drunk or high. [Or drugged, probably.]

( he's used to bizarre coping mechanisms. trying to argue for them tends to just make a person sound more crazy. at least nathan knows the voices in his head aren't real. he knows most people aren't out to get him, even if it feels that way.

for once in his life, he might've found someone more crazy than he is. )

Yeah, don't think the doctor's are gonna buy that one. ( she's fine, doc, she just time travelled a little too hard. )

...You wanna be left alone?

( is that why she won't look at him? he'd been drunk, and soft, and now she can't stand the sight of him. the only way to be respected is to be hard. he should've never asked her to stay, even if they were talking about dumb teleportation powers. )

[She looks up at him quickly. He doesn't believe her, does he? So much for that...]

No. I'm glad you came with me.

[And she is. That surprises her a little, she'd had a hard time trying to sort out that feeling, but... It does mean something to her that he's here. That he'd stayed. If she'd woken up alone, she really would be in tears right now. As it is, she only feels close to it.]

I just don't want to be here.

[A soft sigh and she brings her knees up onto the bed with her, wraps her arms around them. If her bag is in Nathan's car, then her phone must be as well. She'd be stranded here without him.]

Does anyone else know we're here?

Edited 2026-03-12 02:57 (UTC)

( it's a hard thing to believe, especially when all the evidence is muddled by the image of her in a hospital bed.

she pulls her knees closer to herself, and nathan takes off his jacket to drape around her shoulders. )

Just... Vic. ( he figures that'll be upsetting to her, so he's quick to add: ) She's cool. She was worried about you. Thought you got roofied by some fucker at a party, or something.

( and she's been texting him ever since to check on her. they've entered this pocket of truce, a space where the claws retract. victoria might make fun of her on monday, but she's not making fun of her now. )

You're really okay? ...They'll let you go. The nurse says she wants to keep you overnight, but she'll let you go if I say.

[Her breath catches when he drops his jacket onto her, one hand coming up to touch it, before pulling it around her more fully.]

Thanks...

[You're a complicated man, Nathan Prescott. Keeps me on my toes. Gawd, that had been no joke. Truly.

She does immediately tense at his nickname for Victoria. Of course. That makes sense. Since she'd been on her way. Does she tell Nathan that? About what she'd... fixed? Did his "I don't want to know, don't tell me" cover this as well?

Here she is, thinking about how he's going to feel about it. But her own feelings matter too.]

...As long as she's not posting a picture of me online cackling about how much of a "slutty hipster virgin" I am.

[She shouldn't say it, but it hurts too much and she has nowhere to put it. She doesn't have her journal to write it down in. Funny how much she's come to rely on that thing for helping her process her feelings.]

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🤪

omfg you're WILD

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make good choices, nate~

he's doing great 🥰

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