( 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. )
[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.]
[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.]
( 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.]
( when she mentions something about a photo, he takes a seat on her bed. this earns him a frown from a passing nurse, but a scowl is enough for her to look away and keep it moving.
he lowers his voice. )
Vic doesn't know— I didn't tell her anything. ( and, belatedly: ) How can you be a virgin and a slut? Dumbass, oxymoron insult.
( vic can do better. it makes him think, though. she could only be this concerned because she feels guilty... but if she had something on max, he would know. she'd have told him. )
["She doesn't know anymore. I changed it." It would be so easy to say it. But his insult of his own insult (to be fair, she'd probably paraphrased) forces a sudden laugh from her, incredulous.
She looks over at him, closer to her again. Thinks about what he's offering to do for her. Would he have been willing to defend her later? Had she rewound too soon? ...Guess she'll never know, now.
If he doesn't really believe her about her powers, then she can't really even explain any of this to him, can she?
She sighs heavily again and curls her arms tighter around her legs. This is all so fucked up.
Finally, she answers his earlier question:]
I shouldn't stay overnight. This visit will probably be expensive as it is, a night in the hospital really will be. And not exactly covered by my scholarship, so...
( the way she's studying him makes him look away, even after her abrupt burst of laughter. divorced from the alcohol, he's feeling uncomfortable in his skin once more. if she looks too closely, she might see the cracks. )
Don't worry about that. I got it.
( how much can a hospital visit cost, anyway? $50? $60?? )
Stay here. You'll feel better. I'll run back to school and get your stuff. ( he checks his jacket pockets only to remember he's not wearing his jacket. right. ) My phone's in there. The passcode's 0829, in case you need to call someone or something.
[Oh, Nathan. The ambulance ride alone would probably break the bank for her family.
Staying here is the absolute last thing she wants to do. There's just something about the doctors running tests on her. Makes her feel like a lab experiment, since she doesn't know if her new power will somehow... show up, on something. And then they really will want to run experiments on her. Either that or she'll learn she actually is, like, certifiably insane. Neither option is very appealing. Honestly, even if they didn't find anything with whatever tests they run first, couldn't that just make the doctors more determined to run different ones? How long would she be here being poked like a pincushion? Nope, no thanks!!
--But he's giving her access to his phone if she stays. He's even giving her the password. That would be helpful to the investigation, for trying to determine how better for her to help him. Unless he's so willing to hand it over because there's actually nothing noteworthy to be found on it? He does know she's nosy.
She has to decide. Is it worth the stress of staying in the hospital on the off-chance she'll be able to find something helpful on his phone? Or... she could call someone on his phone to come break her out of the hospital after she's through snooping. That could be an option.
Of course, it escapes her mind in this precise moment that he will have her journal, openly available to him, no passcode needed, if he's even a little bit as nosy as Max is.]
Okay. Thanks for all of this. And I'm sorry if I scared you. Do you need to call someone to come pick you up first though, if your truck is still at Blackwell?
[She fishes the phone out of the jacket pocket to hand over to him.]
It's whatever. ( as he often does with apologies, he shrugs it away. ) I must've scared you, too. Or freaked you out.
( whatever he did for her to flee from his car in a blind panic. paying for her medical bills feel like an apology for that, in a weird way. )
I dunno, I guess I can catch an ambulance back. Not like it's far. They're probably on their way back to Blackwell to pump charcoal into some dumbass freshman, anyway.
( he's convinced that they'll agree to him hoping in the passenger seat solely on his father's merit, and he's right. never mind the tax payer dollars he'll be wasting by turning an ambulance into his personal taxi service. how much could a ride in those things cost, really? $15? $20???
he reaches into her (his?) coat pocket and pulls out his car keys. while he's close, he hesitates for a moment before swallowing his nerves and kissing her cheek. for some reason, his face burns more brightly than hers ever could as he pulls back. )
[When he talks about taking an ambulance back, she looks at him for a second like he's grown a second head. It shouldn't really be a surprise, though. He's grown up with the Prescott name, after all.
She drops the phone on the bed, then feels her face get a little hot as he leans in so close and sticks his hand in the pocket of the jacket. Then he kisses her cheek, and her heart skips again. Always keeping her on her toes, Nathan Prescott.
Without thinking twice about it, she gently takes his hand to keep him from leaving so she can press a kiss of her own to his very red cheek. (And god, how cute is that?)
It's not that she's forgotten the betrayal. That still hurts, like a splinter she can't work out. But Nathan has her feelings all mixed up. The very definition of hot and cold. It's probably toxic and unhealthy for her. It would be better if she just broke off whatever this thing is. But... she really doesn't want to.
Definitely making smart life choices here, Max Caulfield.]
I'll see you later... Have fun taking the ambulance back.
[It's a very gentle tease, said with a small smile, though she's not sure he'll pick up on it being one. So wild that he's treating the ambulance like a taxi service.
( he looks like he might combust when max returns the kiss. pda? holding hands? they're getting so gross with things. )
God, this is dorky...
( his cool guy party boy image can't handle being dorky. crushes and the idea of wanting to be around someone he likes, it makes him feel like a little kid again. )
Yeah, I'll let you know if we pick up anyone cool.
( like someone with a missing leg. for an encounter like that, nathan would definitely prefer to have his camera. he suddenly gets the panic and detachment max felt when she woke up without her polaroid.
and then he's off. he says something to a nurse, nods over to max's bed. knowing nathan, it's probably something to the tune of "if you hurt her, you're dead".
it's surprisingly easy to convince an emt to give him a lift back to school. he says his name, which has weight, but the emt says it was about time for a patrol lap around town anyway. so, sure, nathan can catch a ride.
his phone has a picture of cemetery as its background, a monochrome shot of some stranger being lowered into the earth. his gallery of photos is much more normal — pictures from various parties, snaps of the whiteboard during the science classes he couldn't be bothered to take notes in. aside from the piles of cocaine and pictures of his fellow drunken, underage classmates, he's managed to keep his photos unincriminating.
his most recent texts are from victoria, asking about max's condition. there's the one from jefferson that he didn't respond to, and some from his father telling him he'll be cut off soon if he doesn't get it together. his mother sends a message that's incoherent which he never responded to, and he's messaged warren about being a never having been laid when he was particularly bored one night. doctors message about upcoming appointments and med changes. there's receipt for an upcoming concert, a birthday present for vic.
drafts in his notes app range from average, drug-related to-do lists to long ramblings about his self loathing. there's a note about chloe that oscillates wildly between calling her a dumb punk bitch who had it coming and how it hurting her will haunt him for ever. )
[She doesn't know how he's going to tell her if they pick up anyone cool, considering she now has his phone. But she doesn't mention that before he leaves.
And she snoops. Because of course she does. She's Max Caulfield.
The phone background, first off, has her tilting her head. Is this a shot he took? Is it someone he knows? Did he lose someone in his life recently? Or it could just be his attraction to dark subject matter. Maybe it's a complete stranger. She has no idea just from the one shot.
The gallery is very typical, nothing unusual there. Unless she counts the confirmation of his doing harder drugs than weed. But that's not super surprising either, considering rumors already abound about it.
She's not sure what to think about Victoria's concern. She knows she's not a complete monster. She was fair with her when Max comforted her after the paint incident. It just feels like rapport is not something you can build with people like Victoria, maybe not even Nathan. How do they even have friends at all when they're so willing to betray, throw one another under the bus for social standing and clout? She's not sure how that works. She's not sure she really wants to, either. Money is probably the answer, if she really thinks about it. Ugh.
The text with Mr. Jefferson is odd. A teacher telling a student to behave themselves the night of a party isn't totally out there, though she didn't think they were that close. "Stick to the script" though is... very strange. She wishes she had a way to document this to look at it more later, but without her phone or camera or journal...
Moving on, then. The text from Nathan's dad isn't surprising, especially given Nathan's feelings about his family. The Warren message results in frustrated sigh, though curiosity gets the better of her to check the timestamp on it, wondering if it had anything to do with her and how Nathan was always calling Warren her boyfriend. Was he jealous...?
Doctors messages. In general Max approves of psychiatry but not all doctors are automatically good doctors. And they can only help you so far as you're willing to be helped too, right? Anyway...
The notes app pulls at her heart strings.
These are red flags, Max, stop getting all... twitterpatted. Jesus.
She just wants to believe he can be helped. What, and you're gonna be the one to do it? How realistic even is that? ...Any less realistic than rewinding time? ...No snappy comeback to yourself for that? Cool.
She closes all the apps she opened, and instead brings up the phone app. She dials her home phone number to get a jump on her parents finding out about the hospital visit. The next several minutes is spent reassuring her mom she doesn't need to go home, among other things.
The good thing about that is the nurses don't seem keen to interrupt her while she's having a conversation, so... No (more) tests for now. Wonder if Nathan had anything to do with that.]
( once he's back at school, it's easy enough to find her bag. it's in the front seat, right where she left it. she'd be so eager to get away from him in that moment, she hadn't thought to grab it, apparently.
had this been a few weeks ago, he'd have delighted in digging through max's things to find something humiliating to embarrass her with. now, it just feels invasive. still, he only plans on checking on the camera, so he flips open her sachel and dumps things out on his passenger seat until the camera tumbles to halt against the seat cushion. he picks it up, inspects it. after a moment, he flips it open and looks around for something to take a picture of. all for the sake of being thorough, mind you. no one is dying in this parking lot, so nothing around catches his eye, but if max were here...
in the end, he takes a picture of the rearvier mirror and ends up flashbanging himself. god, analog is the fucking worst. he doesn't even bother to check the picture as it develops, just drops it into her bag along with everything else he'd shaken out — her phone, her sketching pencils, her journal.
...one page of a journal won't hurt.
when else is he going to have the opportunity to snoop through someone's journal? who keeps a diary these days, anyway? apart from himself, and that's doctor-mandated, anyway.
he flips to one of the more recent pages and reads under the glow of the dome light. )
[If he was curious about what she was saying about him, specifically, then going to the most recent entries was a smart idea. The double spread of pages he opens on contains an entry dated about four days ago:]
It shouldn't bother me so much that he's ignoring me now. I should be happy that he's not parading around the fact he took my virginity or anything. It's better this way, right? To just pretend nothing ever happened and keep going on with our lives? (Yes, Max, it is. And yet you're STILL obsessing over him. You're the worst.)
Jesus. I can barely look Chloe in the eye while I'm doing all this stupid pining. The only person I've been able to talk to about it (minus the detail of WHO, of course) is Dana. Kind of a surprising friendship I guess but I have Nathan and his "god forbid anyone see me show a human emotion besides anger" tendencies to thank for that. Fuck toxic masculinity.
Seriously tho, it did really affect me to see him crying, and NOT in a bad way. I guess it helped make him seem more approachable... Vulnerable, and human, and not at all what people always think he is. Even if I'm still not sure exactly what prompted the tears. There's something deeper there, I think. Just wish he'd give me the chance to figure it out, to figure HIM out.
I know I've said it before, but maybe these powers are meant for him, too. Maybe destiny has him, me, and Chloe all wound up together for a reason. If Nathan shooting her was some kind of cry for help, then maybe I'm meant to BE that help.
...Or maybe I'm just stupid and hormonal because he's the first person to ever touch me and make me come, and everything else is just excuses, excuses. I mean, I can't exactly lie to myself, I do still think about sex with him.
[The first page ends with that. There's a surprisingly well done doodle of Nathan at her windowsill, holding Lisa. Lisa has little red marks like an anime blush, and there's a sticker that says "*SWOON*" at the top. On the side of the page are a couple of scribbled out plant puns she'd tried out, a few that ended up going into the pictures of Lisa she ended up sending him, and a few crossed out where she'd dismissed them for whatever reason.
The page directly opposite:]
I never in my wildest dreams ever thought I'd have PHONE sex with someone. But it was like my body jolted alive talking to him about what we'd done and what he wanted to do to me. Like he pulled the lever and the lightning struck, and suddenly I'm waking from the dead. FrankenMax. Maxenstein? Frankenstein's Maxster? ...that's SO dumb.
It would almost feel better if it was all about the sex, though. It's not. I want to hold his hand again, too. I want to sit in his lap. I REALLY want to take photos of him. A photo of him in his element taking the pictures he takes best. If he'd ever let me do that. I want to see the expression on his face when he's taking his photos, what that moment of inspiration looks like on him. I bet it's beautiful.
It's killing me I didn't take a photo of him while he was in my room, when the feeling was overwhelming. Then I'd at least have THAT now, even if I never get to have him again.
( he definitely should have stopped reading after that first sentence, but he doesn't. how could he? it's like a direct line into max's mind, and nathan doesn't feel like he's ever understood anyone, let alone been understood by anyone. maybe this is how it's supposed to be: learning about others through secrets and confessions.
in the end, he feels like shit. like overindulging in food, it was good at the moment, but the aftermath leaves him feeling in need of a shower and a weight-loss smoothie.
she really believes in this 'powers' thing; that's the easier takeaway. addressing how much she cares about him is harder, even if there's a weird sense of pride in his ability to get her off. most guys say they can, but victoria says she fakes it every time. this doesn't sound like max is faking it. if he can ever find a way to get over the 'feelings' of it all, he'd want to have sex with her again, and again, and again—
he snaps the book closed, unable to balance the horny thoughts with the soft ones. better to forget he'd ever seen anything. as if he's going to be able to erase a line like 'frankenstein's maxster'. he snorts to himself. she's such a dork. a dork that likes him. a dork who he likes—
he considers driving straight to the hospital, but he makes a stop at his dorm first. he checks his secret phone, makes sure no one needs him, that jefferson doesn't have orders for him. nothing seems important, but he sends a text to max, by which he means himself: )
it's nathan omw
borrowed someones phone lol
( smooth. real smooth. the only other texts from this number were vague 'hello' texts to ensure that the burner actually worked. he's smart enough not to have the number saved.
before leaving, he tosses some clean clothes into a bag, in case max wants to change after being at the hospital all night. he doesn't have any girl clothes lying around, so she's going to have to be okay with sweatpants and a t-shirt. and boxers. girls wear those sometimes, right?
...god, he's got no idea how to do this.
he leaves, bag on his shoulder, embarrassed by his own sincerity. )
[Nosy Max is nosy. He's got texts from this number before but seriously no indication at all of who it is. Which could be weird or could just indicate he doesn't care about this person, which is fairly likely anyway.]
you can just use mine since you have it now passcode is 1111
[He probably could have just tried that himself and been successful. Not a very secure passcode, but then she doesn't feel like she's got a lot to hide on her phone.
Though the text chat with Chloe does reveal that Max pulled a gun on Frank. And the text chat with Warren reveals she turned him down when he asked her to the drive-in. And apparently kissed Chloe once?
Okay, maybe some of the stuff is slightly more revealing than she's thinking it is.
If he snoops at all, her texts with her parents also reveals she just had a birthday last month. She's texted Kate about a tea date, no boys allowed. Texts with Dana include times to meet up and movie suggestions, almost entirely romcoms. Her notes app is almost entirely dedicated to class notes... with some passwords to other things spotted throughout. Her login to her favorite camera site, to her Facebook, to her school email.
Her camera roll is sparse, mainly used to remember things - pictures taken of class white boards, signs, posters, etc. Clearly she's not gonna waste expensive vintage Polaroid film on that kind of stuff.]
drive safely, please! <3
[In the end, she hadn't felt the need to escape the hospital. She also really did kind of want to be there when Nathan came back. Oh. Also he has her stuff.
She's allowed to refuse any tests or treatments, so long as she signs things saying she's going against doctor's orders or whatever. They tell her she's dehydrated though so keep the IV going. She allows them to do simple things like check her heart and her nasal cavity (she did have a nosebleed), and she grudgingly acquiesces to their demand for a urine sample (she does kind of want it on the record that there were no drugs in her system, just alcohol). That's fun. At least Nathan was gone while she had to do that.]
( he briefly considered making up a student, but their school is so small, it'd be one of his more obvious lies.
it feels early to be exchanging phone passwords. that sort of thing ought to be done after the fourth date, or so he assumes. relationships don't exactly exist on strict timelines, and they're not even in a "relationship" anyway. not really. it's a matter of circumstance that left max with his phone and nathan with hers. and he'd snooped enough by reading her diary; he doesn't plan on reading more. )
ok mom lol
( ...
maybe he'll check her playlists, but that's it. and only at stop signs. he's not going to pull over the car for the sake of digging for dirt, not when max is alone in hospital. priorities, or whatever.
he'll snoop on her phone later while she's asleep like a normal person.
once he arrives, it's easy enough to find his way up to where they have her housed for the time being. not serious enough to keep her here forever, but they still plan on waiting on the results of some tests before letting her go. )
Still good?
( he sets her bag on the bed beside her before dropping his own more carelessly in the seat set aside for visitors. ) They say what happened? Why, I mean?
[Once ber bag is set down, she's immediately rifling through it, only stopping to sort of absent-mindedly hand Nathan his own phone back. She still has his jacket on and makes no move to give it back yet.]
Dehydration. Stress. That's all they've been able to figure out.
[Especially what with Max refusing any sort of brain scan. At least she allowed them to do blood tests, but so far those haven't shown anything out of the ordinary either.
She sighs as she sets her journal in her lap first, then carefully cradles her camera as she lifts it out of the bag... and watches a photo she hadn't taken fall down from it and onto her journal, face-down.
Curious, she picks it up to get a good look at it. It's the picture Nathan took in his truck.]
( the thing that may or may not exist, according to both her words, her demonstration, and her journal.
the photo is terrible, a nathan-shaped ball of light. his face is thoroughly blotted out by the flash, but his arms holding the camera are recognizable enough, along with his dashboard and the view from the driver's seat. he feels himself die as she inspects it. )
That's— it's stupid. Just wanted to see if your camera, you know, wasn't broken. You were all freaked out and shit. Throw it away.
[She could almost laugh, the picture is vaguely hilarious. But his reasons...
She quickly holds the photo against the center of her chest with both hands so he can't grab it from her.]
No way! You used my expensive analog film, that means I get to keep what you took with it. Those are the rules.
[Her smile is wide, and she takes another glance at the photo with an unmasked, soft look.
It's a terrible picture. But so sweet of him to do. She needs this. A reminder, he cares about her feelings. She looks back at him and his adorably red face.]
Thank you for checking for me. And... yes. It's definitely the other thing. It's happened before under similar circumstances.
( but, really, she can have it. she doesn't have to look so smitten by it, though. you can't even see his face — which is arguably his best feature. )
Never heard anything about you fainting around the school. ( he shoves his bag aside so he can sink into the chair. they've had a long night; max is hooked to an IV, and nathan is begining to think time travel might be real. it won't be long before he falls asleep. ) You sneaking off to pass out in secret, or what?
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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?
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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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( 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. )
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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.]
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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. )
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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?
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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.
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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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he lowers his voice. )
Vic doesn't know— I didn't tell her anything. ( and, belatedly: ) How can you be a virgin and a slut? Dumbass, oxymoron insult.
( vic can do better. it makes him think, though. she could only be this concerned because she feels guilty... but if she had something on max, he would know. she'd have told him. )
If she's got pictures of you, I'll get them.
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She looks over at him, closer to her again. Thinks about what he's offering to do for her. Would he have been willing to defend her later? Had she rewound too soon? ...Guess she'll never know, now.
If he doesn't really believe her about her powers, then she can't really even explain any of this to him, can she?
She sighs heavily again and curls her arms tighter around her legs. This is all so fucked up.
Finally, she answers his earlier question:]
I shouldn't stay overnight. This visit will probably be expensive as it is, a night in the hospital really will be. And not exactly covered by my scholarship, so...
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Don't worry about that. I got it.
( how much can a hospital visit cost, anyway? $50? $60?? )
Stay here. You'll feel better. I'll run back to school and get your stuff. ( he checks his jacket pockets only to remember he's not wearing his jacket. right. ) My phone's in there. The passcode's 0829, in case you need to call someone or something.
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Oh, Nathan. The ambulance ride alone would probably break the bank for her family.Staying here is the absolute last thing she wants to do. There's just something about the doctors running tests on her. Makes her feel like a lab experiment, since she doesn't know if her new power will somehow... show up, on something. And then they really will want to run experiments on her. Either that or she'll learn she actually is, like, certifiably insane. Neither option is very appealing. Honestly, even if they didn't find anything with whatever tests they run first, couldn't that just make the doctors more determined to run different ones? How long would she be here being poked like a pincushion? Nope, no thanks!!
--But he's giving her access to his phone if she stays. He's even giving her the password. That would be helpful to the investigation, for trying to determine how better for her to help him. Unless he's so willing to hand it over because there's actually nothing noteworthy to be found on it? He does know she's nosy.
She has to decide. Is it worth the stress of staying in the hospital on the off-chance she'll be able to find something helpful on his phone? Or... she could call someone on his phone to come break her out of the hospital after she's through snooping. That could be an option.
Of course, it escapes her mind in this precise moment that he will have her journal, openly available to him, no passcode needed, if he's even a little bit as nosy as Max is.]
Okay. Thanks for all of this. And I'm sorry if I scared you. Do you need to call someone to come pick you up first though, if your truck is still at Blackwell?
[She fishes the phone out of the jacket pocket to hand over to him.]
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( whatever he did for her to flee from his car in a blind panic. paying for her medical bills feel like an apology for that, in a weird way. )
I dunno, I guess I can catch an ambulance back. Not like it's far. They're probably on their way back to Blackwell to pump charcoal into some dumbass freshman, anyway.
( he's convinced that they'll agree to him hoping in the passenger seat solely on his father's merit, and he's right. never mind the tax payer dollars he'll be wasting by turning an ambulance into his personal taxi service. how much could a ride in those things cost, really? $15? $20???
he reaches into her (his?) coat pocket and pulls out his car keys. while he's close, he hesitates for a moment before swallowing his nerves and kissing her cheek. for some reason, his face burns more brightly than hers ever could as he pulls back. )
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She drops the phone on the bed, then feels her face get a little hot as he leans in so close and sticks his hand in the pocket of the jacket. Then he kisses her cheek, and her heart skips again. Always keeping her on her toes, Nathan Prescott.
Without thinking twice about it, she gently takes his hand to keep him from leaving so she can press a kiss of her own to his very red cheek. (And god, how cute is that?)
It's not that she's forgotten the betrayal. That still hurts, like a splinter she can't work out. But Nathan has her feelings all mixed up. The very definition of hot and cold. It's probably toxic and unhealthy for her. It would be better if she just broke off whatever this thing is. But... she really doesn't want to.
Definitely making smart life choices here, Max Caulfield.]
I'll see you later... Have fun taking the ambulance back.
[It's a very gentle tease, said with a small smile, though she's not sure he'll pick up on it being one. So wild that he's treating the ambulance like a taxi service.
She drops his hand so he can leave.]
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God, this is dorky...
( his cool guy party boy image can't handle being dorky. crushes and the idea of wanting to be around someone he likes, it makes him feel like a little kid again. )
Yeah, I'll let you know if we pick up anyone cool.
( like someone with a missing leg. for an encounter like that, nathan would definitely prefer to have his camera. he suddenly gets the panic and detachment max felt when she woke up without her polaroid.
and then he's off. he says something to a nurse, nods over to max's bed. knowing nathan, it's probably something to the tune of "if you hurt her, you're dead".
it's surprisingly easy to convince an emt to give him a lift back to school. he says his name, which has weight, but the emt says it was about time for a patrol lap around town anyway. so, sure, nathan can catch a ride.
his phone has a picture of cemetery as its background, a monochrome shot of some stranger being lowered into the earth. his gallery of photos is much more normal — pictures from various parties, snaps of the whiteboard during the science classes he couldn't be bothered to take notes in. aside from the piles of cocaine and pictures of his fellow drunken, underage classmates, he's managed to keep his photos unincriminating.
his most recent texts are from victoria, asking about max's condition. there's the one from jefferson that he didn't respond to, and some from his father telling him he'll be cut off soon if he doesn't get it together. his mother sends a message that's incoherent which he never responded to, and he's messaged warren about being a never having been laid when he was particularly bored one night. doctors message about upcoming appointments and med changes. there's receipt for an upcoming concert, a birthday present for vic.
drafts in his notes app range from average, drug-related to-do lists to long ramblings about his self loathing. there's a note about chloe that oscillates wildly between calling her a dumb punk bitch who had it coming and how it hurting her will haunt him for ever. )
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And she snoops. Because of course she does. She's Max Caulfield.
The phone background, first off, has her tilting her head. Is this a shot he took? Is it someone he knows? Did he lose someone in his life recently? Or it could just be his attraction to dark subject matter. Maybe it's a complete stranger. She has no idea just from the one shot.
The gallery is very typical, nothing unusual there. Unless she counts the confirmation of his doing harder drugs than weed. But that's not super surprising either, considering rumors already abound about it.
She's not sure what to think about Victoria's concern. She knows she's not a complete monster. She was fair with her when Max comforted her after the paint incident. It just feels like rapport is not something you can build with people like Victoria, maybe not even Nathan. How do they even have friends at all when they're so willing to betray, throw one another under the bus for social standing and clout? She's not sure how that works. She's not sure she really wants to, either. Money is probably the answer, if she really thinks about it. Ugh.
The text with Mr. Jefferson is odd. A teacher telling a student to behave themselves the night of a party isn't totally out there, though she didn't think they were that close. "Stick to the script" though is... very strange. She wishes she had a way to document this to look at it more later, but without her phone or camera or journal...
Moving on, then. The text from Nathan's dad isn't surprising, especially given Nathan's feelings about his family. The Warren message results in frustrated sigh, though curiosity gets the better of her to check the timestamp on it, wondering if it had anything to do with her and how Nathan was always calling Warren her boyfriend. Was he jealous...?
Doctors messages. In general Max approves of psychiatry but not all doctors are automatically good doctors. And they can only help you so far as you're willing to be helped too, right? Anyway...
The notes app pulls at her heart strings.
These are red flags, Max, stop getting all... twitterpatted. Jesus.
She just wants to believe he can be helped. What, and you're gonna be the one to do it? How realistic even is that? ...Any less realistic than rewinding time? ...No snappy comeback to yourself for that? Cool.
She closes all the apps she opened, and instead brings up the phone app. She dials her home phone number to get a jump on her parents finding out about the hospital visit. The next several minutes is spent reassuring her mom she doesn't need to go home, among other things.
The good thing about that is the nurses don't seem keen to interrupt her while she's having a conversation, so... No (more) tests for now. Wonder if Nathan had anything to do with that.]
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had this been a few weeks ago, he'd have delighted in digging through max's things to find something humiliating to embarrass her with. now, it just feels invasive. still, he only plans on checking on the camera, so he flips open her sachel and dumps things out on his passenger seat until the camera tumbles to halt against the seat cushion. he picks it up, inspects it. after a moment, he flips it open and looks around for something to take a picture of. all for the sake of being thorough, mind you. no one is dying in this parking lot, so nothing around catches his eye, but if max were here...
in the end, he takes a picture of the rearvier mirror and ends up flashbanging himself. god, analog is the fucking worst. he doesn't even bother to check the picture as it develops, just drops it into her bag along with everything else he'd shaken out — her phone, her sketching pencils, her journal.
...one page of a journal won't hurt.
when else is he going to have the opportunity to snoop through someone's journal? who keeps a diary these days, anyway? apart from himself, and that's doctor-mandated, anyway.
he flips to one of the more recent pages and reads under the glow of the dome light. )
I died at him flashbanging himself lmfao
It shouldn't bother me so much that he's ignoring me now. I should be happy that he's not parading around the fact he took my virginity or anything. It's better this way, right? To just pretend nothing ever happened and keep going on with our lives? (Yes, Max, it is. And yet you're STILL obsessing over him. You're the worst.)
Jesus. I can barely look Chloe in the eye while I'm doing all this stupid pining. The only person I've been able to talk to about it (minus the detail of WHO, of course) is Dana. Kind of a surprising friendship I guess but I have Nathan and his "god forbid anyone see me show a human emotion besides anger" tendencies to thank for that. Fuck toxic masculinity.
Seriously tho, it did really affect me to see him crying, and NOT in a bad way. I guess it helped make him seem more approachable... Vulnerable, and human, and not at all what people always think he is. Even if I'm still not sure exactly what prompted the tears. There's something deeper there, I think. Just wish he'd give me the chance to figure it out, to figure HIM out.
I know I've said it before, but maybe these powers are meant for him, too. Maybe destiny has him, me, and Chloe all wound up together for a reason. If Nathan shooting her was some kind of cry for help, then maybe I'm meant to BE that help.
...Or maybe I'm just stupid and hormonal because he's the first person to ever touch me and make me come, and everything else is just excuses, excuses. I mean, I can't exactly lie to myself, I do still think about sex with him.
[The first page ends with that. There's a surprisingly well done doodle of Nathan at her windowsill, holding Lisa. Lisa has little red marks like an anime blush, and there's a sticker that says "*SWOON*" at the top. On the side of the page are a couple of scribbled out plant puns she'd tried out, a few that ended up going into the pictures of Lisa she ended up sending him, and a few crossed out where she'd dismissed them for whatever reason.
The page directly opposite:]
I never in my wildest dreams ever thought I'd have PHONE sex with someone. But it was like my body jolted alive talking to him about what we'd done and what he wanted to do to me. Like he pulled the lever and the lightning struck, and suddenly I'm waking from the dead. FrankenMax. Maxenstein? Frankenstein's Maxster? ...that's SO dumb.
It would almost feel better if it was all about the sex, though. It's not. I want to hold his hand again, too. I want to sit in his lap. I REALLY want to take photos of him. A photo of him in his element taking the pictures he takes best. If he'd ever let me do that. I want to see the expression on his face when he's taking his photos, what that moment of inspiration looks like on him. I bet it's beautiful.
It's killing me I didn't take a photo of him while he was in my room, when the feeling was overwhelming. Then I'd at least have THAT now, even if I never get to have him again.
[That's all she wrote.]
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in the end, he feels like shit. like overindulging in food, it was good at the moment, but the aftermath leaves him feeling in need of a shower and a weight-loss smoothie.
she really believes in this 'powers' thing; that's the easier takeaway. addressing how much she cares about him is harder, even if there's a weird sense of pride in his ability to get her off. most guys say they can, but victoria says she fakes it every time. this doesn't sound like max is faking it. if he can ever find a way to get over the 'feelings' of it all, he'd want to have sex with her again, and again, and again—
he snaps the book closed, unable to balance the horny thoughts with the soft ones. better to forget he'd ever seen anything. as if he's going to be able to erase a line like 'frankenstein's maxster'. he snorts to himself. she's such a dork. a dork that likes him. a dork who he likes—
he considers driving straight to the hospital, but he makes a stop at his dorm first. he checks his secret phone, makes sure no one needs him, that jefferson doesn't have orders for him. nothing seems important, but he sends a text to max, by which he means himself: )
it's nathan
omw
borrowed someones phone
lol
( smooth. real smooth. the only other texts from this number were vague 'hello' texts to ensure that the burner actually worked. he's smart enough not to have the number saved.
before leaving, he tosses some clean clothes into a bag, in case max wants to change after being at the hospital all night. he doesn't have any girl clothes lying around, so she's going to have to be okay with sweatpants and a t-shirt. and boxers. girls wear those sometimes, right?
...god, he's got no idea how to do this.
he leaves, bag on his shoulder, embarrassed by his own sincerity. )
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[Nosy Max is nosy. He's got texts from this number before but seriously no indication at all of who it is. Which could be weird or could just indicate he doesn't care about this person, which is fairly likely anyway.]
you can just use mine since you have it now
passcode is 1111
[He probably could have just tried that himself and been successful. Not a very secure passcode, but then she doesn't feel like she's got a lot to hide on her phone.
Though the text chat with Chloe does reveal that Max pulled a gun on Frank. And the text chat with Warren reveals she turned him down when he asked her to the drive-in. And apparently kissed Chloe once?
Okay, maybe some of the stuff is slightly more revealing than she's thinking it is.
If he snoops at all, her texts with her parents also reveals she just had a birthday last month. She's texted Kate about a tea date, no boys allowed. Texts with Dana include times to meet up and movie suggestions, almost entirely romcoms. Her notes app is almost entirely dedicated to class notes... with some passwords to other things spotted throughout. Her login to her favorite camera site, to her Facebook, to her school email.
Her camera roll is sparse, mainly used to remember things - pictures taken of class white boards, signs, posters, etc. Clearly she's not gonna waste expensive vintage Polaroid film on that kind of stuff.]
drive safely, please! <3
[In the end, she hadn't felt the need to escape the hospital. She also really did kind of want to be there when Nathan came back. Oh. Also he has her stuff.
She's allowed to refuse any tests or treatments, so long as she signs things saying she's going against doctor's orders or whatever. They tell her she's dehydrated though so keep the IV going. She allows them to do simple things like check her heart and her nasal cavity (she did have a nosebleed), and she grudgingly acquiesces to their demand for a urine sample (she does kind of want it on the record that there were no drugs in her system, just alcohol). That's fun. At least Nathan was gone while she had to do that.]
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nosy
( he briefly considered making up a student, but their school is so small, it'd be one of his more obvious lies.
it feels early to be exchanging phone passwords. that sort of thing ought to be done after the fourth date, or so he assumes. relationships don't exactly exist on strict timelines, and they're not even in a "relationship" anyway. not really. it's a matter of circumstance that left max with his phone and nathan with hers. and he'd snooped enough by reading her diary; he doesn't plan on reading more. )
ok mom
lol
( ...
maybe he'll check her playlists, but that's it. and only at stop signs. he's not going to pull over the car for the sake of digging for dirt, not when max is alone in hospital. priorities, or whatever.
he'll snoop on her phone later while she's asleep like a normal person.
once he arrives, it's easy enough to find his way up to where they have her housed for the time being. not serious enough to keep her here forever, but they still plan on waiting on the results of some tests before letting her go. )
Still good?
( he sets her bag on the bed beside her before dropping his own more carelessly in the seat set aside for visitors. ) They say what happened? Why, I mean?
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[Once ber bag is set down, she's immediately rifling through it, only stopping to sort of absent-mindedly hand Nathan his own phone back. She still has his jacket on and makes no move to give it back yet.]
Dehydration. Stress. That's all they've been able to figure out.
[Especially what with Max refusing any sort of brain scan. At least she allowed them to do blood tests, but so far those haven't shown anything out of the ordinary either.
She sighs as she sets her journal in her lap first, then carefully cradles her camera as she lifts it out of the bag... and watches a photo she hadn't taken fall down from it and onto her journal, face-down.
Curious, she picks it up to get a good look at it. It's the picture Nathan took in his truck.]
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( the thing that may or may not exist, according to both her words, her demonstration, and her journal.
the photo is terrible, a nathan-shaped ball of light. his face is thoroughly blotted out by the flash, but his arms holding the camera are recognizable enough, along with his dashboard and the view from the driver's seat. he feels himself die as she inspects it. )
That's— it's stupid. Just wanted to see if your camera, you know, wasn't broken. You were all freaked out and shit. Throw it away.
( he makes a grab for it, red-faced. )
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She quickly holds the photo against the center of her chest with both hands so he can't grab it from her.]
No way! You used my expensive analog film, that means I get to keep what you took with it. Those are the rules.
[Her smile is wide, and she takes another glance at the photo with an unmasked, soft look.
It's a terrible picture. But so sweet of him to do. She needs this. A reminder, he cares about her feelings. She looks back at him and his adorably red face.]
Thank you for checking for me. And... yes. It's definitely the other thing. It's happened before under similar circumstances.
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( but, really, she can have it. she doesn't have to look so smitten by it, though. you can't even see his face — which is arguably his best feature. )
Never heard anything about you fainting around the school. ( he shoves his bag aside so he can sink into the chair. they've had a long night; max is hooked to an IV, and nathan is begining to think time travel might be real. it won't be long before he falls asleep. ) You sneaking off to pass out in secret, or what?
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