hey readers! its been a long time since ive written short stories other than for school. this was written in october last year, but since i never finished it, you can consider it an one-shot! thank you, and enjoy!
The television flickered to life ominously in the corner. Images of the destruction that swept through Arcadia Bay fluttered on the screen; parts of houses strewn across the street, buildings torn to shreds, cars flung off the road. There was a reporter, teams of police, firefighters and paramedics, and a news squad. There was also hope. The firefighters were clawing through the debris, searching for as many bodies as they could; dead or alive. Preferably alive. Whenever they pulled a body out or found survivors hiding behind rubble, a paramedic or two would rush over. The police stood by, assessing the situation.
The news reporter - a middle aged blonde woman - was the voice over. The camera centre-shot her every few seconds. She addressed them with information of what everyone could gather up; a brutal storm, wrecking havoc, destroying everything in its path.
Max laughed bitterly. They were stating the obvious. Chloe plonked down beside her, head low and diverting her attention away from the television. Max was fiddling with her hands, tapping her finger tips together, palms clammy. Chloe eyed this action, thinking that Max was nervous or uncomfortable.
"Hey, I can turn the TV back off if you like?" Chloe asked sensitively. Honestly she didn't want to see it either.
Max didn't say anything. Didn't want to. Her throat tightened, her heart threatening to jump out of her mouth. So she nodded vaguely.
Chloe watched her, lips pursed, then slowly lifted herself off the bed. There was no TV remote. Back to the old ways, turning it off by the button.
The news reporter then mentioned the survivors.
"There are a small amount of survivors from the predicted storm, and a few have volunteered to show their aspect on what happened," she announced, blank-faced. The camera shot switched.
Chloe gasped, changing her mind for switching off the television, and collapsed into the bed, holding her hands to her mouth. Max gazed at Chloe, then at the television. Her jaw dropped.
"David," she breathed, shuffling over to Chloe and wrapping an arm around her waist, pulling her in close.
"A lot of damage has been done to Arcadia Bay… and… it will take a long time for it to heal," David stated, a quiver in his voice. "Many of us have lost friends.. family.. today. I was lucky I survived. Whilst there was a storm brewing, I had found the man respons— a bunker, and I stayed there until the storm passed."
"Mr. Madsen, have you lost anyone today?" the reporter asked, almost too insensitively.
David's face screwed up, brow furrowing but sorrow in his eyes. "I.. I found my wife. She's in shock, yet alive. But my baby g— my step-daughter.. Chloe…" He faced away from the camera, raising his hands to his eyes. The camera cut off.
Tears trailed down Chloe's cheeks. "My mum.. David.. they're alive," she spluttered, removing her hands away from her mouth. "They're alive!" She buried her head into Max's shoulder, clutching at the fabric of her hoodie, still damp from the storm.
Max tightened her grip around Chloe's waist when Kate was interviewed next. It was surreal seeing her alive, after.. after the incident. Amongst all the destruction of the storm, with many lives lost, Max could manage a weak, wavering smile seeing that Kate had survived.
A few more faces appeared for a short interview. Fear panged in Max's stomach when none of them were Warren. She hoped, she prayed, that he had survived, chosen not to be interviewed. Afraid of negative thoughts pushing through the back of her mind, Max gently nudged Chloe off her shoulder and switched the TV off. When she slumped back into the bed next to Chloe, she focused on fidgeting with her hands again. Tap, tap, tapping her fingers together, clutching her hands together, stroking her damp palms.
A hand reached out and softly clasped Max's, intertwining their fingers together. "Is everything okay?" Chloe questioned tenderly. She lightly squeezed Max's hand.
Max's gaze swept from the hand holding hers, up her arm, to look Chloe right in the eyes. She masked her worry with a warm smile, and Max melted away.
"Chloe, I can.. I can feel them. My powers. They're still there," Max muttered, flexing her free hand. "I thought.. now that this week is over… that my powers would go away. I would be restored to normal."
Chloe lowered her head once again, breaking eye contact from Max. "Are you going to use them?"
"I don't ever want to create a shitstorm again. But I will always do whatever it takes to keep you alive." Max dropped her head into the palms of her hands.
Chloe swallowed. "You saw first hand what happens when you use your powers…"
"I don't want to use them ever again. Only to save you," Max murmured into her hands. "… I don't want to lose you. I can't."
Max choked back sobs. Chloe wrapped her arms around Max and pulled her in close. The brunette tucked her head under Chloe's chin, forcing her eyes shut, trying to keep the tears away, but they kept on falling. She thought about all the people she might've lost during the storm. She already knew many were dead. Losing Chloe would break her.
"Max, you saved my life. You let the storm pass… I think that means the universe, the timeline, has finally accepted my death being postponed. The universe will let me live." Chloe tried for a wane smile, and stroked Max's hair, tangling her fingers through it. "I still can't believe you saved me all those times."
Max gave a weak laugh. "I will always save you, Chloe. You mean the world to me. I don't care if I've only recently been with you for the past week, you're still my best friend. Years won't draw us apart."
Chloe laughed fragilely too. "Come on, Super-Max. Let's go grab some dinner."