Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Rachel slowly came to with a grumble and an absolutely splitting headache. Hangover most likely, last night’s party was pretty crazy after all. She went to rub her temples and found she couldn’t move her hands at all. Opening her eyes she was met with a bright downward light and despite her head screaming at her to close them, she powered through to try and take in her surroundings.

She was handcuffed to a table… “Shackled” was probably a better word actually, considering the large manacles clamped around her forearms. She was seated in a metal chair adjacent to the table and the shackles had some degree of movement to them, she could probably stand she thought, but not much more than that. The rest of the room was plain, concrete maybe, save for the large mirror facing her.

“Miss Rachel Dawn Amber,” a voice, likely belonging to someone on the other side of the two-way mirror, came over some speakers. “You’re now under the protection of the Department of Powered Individuals,” the voice continued.

Rachel stared ahead for a moment, her brain flitting through various emotions, concerns, ideas to get out of whatever prison she’s being held in. “I don’t understand…” she started. “Have I been arrested? Am I being charged with something? Shouldn’t I get a lawyer or a phone call?”

“That’s not how we do things here Miss Amber,” the voice replied. “This department was created to monitor the potential for metahuman threats and this facility exists to contain them.”

She processed that for a moment before she decided to change tactics. “You.. you’ve kidnapped me?” Her voice wavered as her eyes started to water. “I’m being taken away from my family and friends and everyone I’ve ever known??” She wailed.

The mirror suddenly brightened as the reflective surface was overridden by a light inside. There was a woman on the other side of it, watching her. Dressed in a nice black suit with a pink blouse. She had wavy dark hair, olive skin, and very sharp brown eyes. Seated next to her was a young girl, no more than fifteen, with choppy black hair and round glasses, and some sort of large collar fastened around her neck. She was talking to the woman but Rachel couldn’t hear them. The woman leaned forward and pressed a button, speaking into a microphone. “You can stop with the theatrics Miss Amber, I am more than aware of what a talented actress you are.”

In a second Rachel was on her feet, the chair sliding backwards and falling over. “LET ME GO!” Flames erupted around her, engulfing her and the table and soon the entire room. She willed them to burn hotter and hotter, trying to melt through the cuffs and the glass and the whole fucking building.

The girl jumped high enough to fall out of her chair but the woman simply looked unamused. She reached up and pressed some sort of button and sprayers around Rachel’s room started hosing her down with water or some sort of flame retardant chemical. It became harder and harder for her to keep the flames going and after a moment she collapsed onto the table, exhausted from the sudden burst of exertion. “Thank you for the display Miss Amber, we hope you enjoy your stay.”

She pressed another button and Rachel felt a prick on her wrist inside the cuffs. Suddenly the world started spinning and she felt it hard to stand up. She glared at the woman in the window with all the heat she could muster. “Fuck you, bitch,” she spat, before darkness took her.

Chapter Text

“And on the seventh day, she rested,” Rachel mumbled, laying back on her apparently fire retardant bunk.

Days two, three, and four she spent in an infuriating tug of war with the fire suppression system in her windowless cell. Denial having been dealt with in the interrogation room.

Day five was bargaining as she sat on the floor at the cell door screaming her throat raw for someone to let her out.

Depression was day six. She passed most of the day lying in her bunk, a witness might say they saw her crying. But there was no one here to verify those claims.

And now she sat here staring at the opposite wall. Trying to decide if she was up for acceptance. Or if she was just going to circle back to anger.

Rachel tugged at the collar securely fastened around her neck. She didn’t have a mirror to look at it but she assumed it was similar to the one she saw on the girl in the window on her first day. A mirror probably wouldn’t be a good idea anyway, then she’d have to see herself in the drab, grey prison-like uniform she’d been changed into.

While she was deciding whether or not she felt like raging some more, she heard a clank at the door and the window slot in it briefly showed a pair of dark blue eyes watching her before it slammed shut again.

“Hello?!” Rachel said, jumping to her feet and staring at the door.

Nothing happened for a moment, and then she heard a series of locks cycling. She tried to temper anything resembling hope as the door swung open and she was met with the owner of the blue eyes. A woman, not much taller than her, dressed in what could be considered officewear. Her dark brown hair was pulled up in a bun and she had a tablet with her. There was some government ID badge thing pinned to her blazer. “Hello, Rachel,” she said. “My name is Agent Jacobs, I’m here to transfer you to the dorms and give you the tour now that you’ve cooled off a bit.”

Rachel narrowed her eyes in annoyance. “Ha ha,” she deadpanned. The woman smiled at her before tapping something on her tablet and Rachel heard the collar around her neck beep. “What did you just do??” She grabbed at it, somewhat panicked.

“Now that you’re being transferred to minimum, your restraint is set to Active mode,” she explained. “In your case, we can’t exactly have advanced fire suppression systems throughout the entire facility so instead, if that device reads a temperature higher than say, one twenty degrees, you’ll be automatically sedated.”

“Wow,” Rachel said with mock surprise. “And I didn’t get anything for you.”

The woman, Agent Jacobs, grinned again, before turning. “Follow me please,” she said as she walked out of view.

Rachel stepped toward the door. It felt sort of like a trap so cautiously she leaned her head out, bracing herself for what might come. Nothing seemed to happen and she was given a view of the outside of her cell. A nondescript concrete and painted cinder block hallway featuring a series of other doors like hers. All but one were standing wide open. The one directly across from hers, the other door at this end of the hallway, was locked up tight.

Agent Jacobs was a few doors down, looking back at her. “Come on,” she said, gesturing for Rachel to follow. “I don’t bite.”

Rachel closed the space between them. “I wouldn’t at all be shocked to learn that you probably do,” she replied upon reaching the woman.

The agent actually chuckled at that but declined to respond. Instead she turned and continued leading Rachel through the facility. At the end of the hallway of cells there was a checkpoint with a pair of armed guards. Agent Jacobs scanned her hand on the palm reader and the gate opened. Once it closed behind them they were inside another, shorter hallway with an identical gate on the other end.

After passing the second gate and a second pair of guards they were incongruously in what looked like some sort of cross between a hotel, a school dorm, and a hospital. The walls were drywall and painted, the floors had carpet, there were actual windows looking out into an unbroken forest of evergreen trees. Rachel had to look back towards the gate towards the cell block to make sure she hadn’t imagined it.

“Down that hallway,” Agent Jacobs said, shaking Rachel from her thoughts. She was gesturing towards a pair of double doors to the left of the cell block hallway. “Is the infirmary,” she continued. “If you’re ever sick or injured, that’s where you can go to get fixed up.”

She turned and headed towards a set of doors on the opposite end of the hall. “This is the general wing of the facility,” Jacobs said as they passed through the doors. “There’s a library, a recreation room, and this,” she said, stopping in front of yet another set of doors. “This is the cafeteria. Meal times are seven AM, noon, and five PM.”

“And other than those times,” Rachel asked.

“It's not off limits or anything,” Agent Jacobs replied. “There just won’t be any food.” The woman gave another of her annoyingly polite and professional grins. She turned away from the cafeteria and pushed through a set of glass doors.

Rachel followed her and was more than a little surprised to suddenly be outside. They were standing in a well manicured lawn. With green grass, gravel trails, benches, and even a small pond. It was fenced in, obviously, and had some sort of thin netting about forty feet up. But it was far more of the “outdoors” than Rachel was expecting. Beyond the fence she could see more of the expansive forest that surrounded the facility. “Where are we?” She asked.

“Sorry,” Agent Jacobs replied. “That’s classified.”

“Why?” Rachel turned to look at the older woman. “Afraid I’ll escape or something?”

“No,” Agent Jacobs answered, with yet another annoying smile and a resounding confidence in her words. “I’ll show you to your room now,” she said, heading back inside.

“Don’t you mean my ‘cell’?” Rachel asked, trailing behind her.

“If that’s what you prefer,” she replied as she turned up a set of stairs. The stairs exited back into another carpeted hallway. With wooden doors on either side. “This floor is Hall A,” Agent Jacobs said as she led Rachel down the hall. “Single rooms with a communal bath and shower, which was across from the stairs,” she pointed back behind them.

“As opposed to the luxury ensuite cells,” Rachel said sarcastically.

“Yes, actually,” Agent Jacobs turned back to face her. “Hall B on the next floor is single rooms with an attached three quarter bath.”

Rachel narrowed her eyes. “And who decides who gets those?”

“It’s dependent on good behavior,” Jacobs replied. “And a willingness to be helpful.”

“Helpful?” Rachel repeated. “This place isn’t just a prison for people with superpowers, is it?” She questioned.

In lieu of an answer, Agent Jacobs gave her another professional smile and gestured to the door they’d stopped in front of. It was another plain wooden door with a nameplate beside it that read “RA - 2”. “This is you,” the woman supplied. She pulled a key on a small bungee bracelet out of her pocket before unlocking the door and passing it to Rachel. “If you try to sharpen it into a weapon or do something else equally destructive we’ll take the locks off your door,” she said matter of factly.

She pushed the door open and Rachel followed into what surprisingly did actually look like some sort of dorm room at a college. The carpet was the same as the hallway, the walls were bare but painted, there was furniture, and even a window. Yes the window was actually four smaller panes divided by a metal crossbar to look like a full window. But it did offer her a view to the outside, overlooking the grounds she’d seen earlier. “Bed, desk, and dresser,” Jacobs said, gesturing at the furniture. “Laundry day for bedding and towels is every Sunday and there’s a washer and dryer at the end of each hall for washing your clothes as you need.”

Rachel plopped down on the bed. “You mean our uniforms?” She asked, tugging at the collar of her drab, grey shirt.

“You’re allowed to wear regular clothes if you have them,” Agent Jacobs responded. “Speaking of,” she pulled one of the drawers of the dresser out, looking inside. “Yeah it looks like you still have the clothes you came here with.”

She was on her feet and across the room in a second, grabbing at the clothes. Sure enough the black scoop neck shirt and white denim cutoffs she remembered wearing before she woke up here, as well as her jean jacket, socks, and chucks were all there. “Holy shit!” She exclaimed. She turned to the woman. “I just assumed you like, confiscated or trashed everything…”

Agent Jacobs shook her head. “This isn’t meant to be a prison Rachel, not really,” she said. “I know it might feel like one but at its core, the role of the DPI is safe and humane containment of potentially dangerous individuals. We don’t want to hurt anyone, we want as little of people being hurt as possible. So yes, you can keep and wear your own clothes.” She gestured around the room. “This is your space here, to do with what you will. We have rules but they’re all pretty reasonable.”

Rachel just stared at the woman in all of her rancid idealism. “That’s really easy to say for the person not wearing a fucking collar,” she replied calmly. “If this is my space to do with what I like, then I would really like you to leave, Agent Jacobs.”

The woman nodded and turned to leave, grabbing the door to close behind her. “Try to enjoy your time here, Rachel,” she said before the door clicked shut.

As it closed, Rachel quickly grabbed one of the shoes from the drawer and hurled it at the door with a scream.

Chapter Text

Despite what was objectively a much more comfortable bed, Rachel didn’t sleep for shit. She fell into bed after kicking Agent Jacobs out sometime in the early evening and she finally gave up as the dawn light was just starting to creep up over the trees. Swinging her feet to the floor she rubbed at her temples, trying to stave off the oncoming headache. Her shirt was sticking to her with sweat as well. “Ugh, I feel like a swamp.”

She got to her feet and crossed the small room to the dresser, one of the drawers that didn’t have her clothes in it had a couple of towels. Grabbing one and her room key she set out in search of the bathrooms the agent had pointed out yesterday.

The hallway was dark, with only an emergency light active every five or so lights. The bathroom was nothing particularly noteworthy. A bank of sinks, a number of toilet stalls, and four curtained shower stalls. It honestly reminded her quite a bit of the bathrooms she had while living at Blackwell. Which she guessed gave the idea that this was supposedly a “dormitory” a little more weight.

Mercifully, the shower only took a few seconds to warm up and she stepped in, savoring the feel of the water on her skin, washing away a week’s worth of sweat, grime, and fire suppression chemicals. Unfortunately she didn’t have any toiletries to speak of, maybe there was a commissary she could look into later. For now she just scrubbed at her body with a washcloth, doing the best she could without.

After cleaning herself off as much as she could she shut off the water and wrapped herself in a towel. Gathering up her clothes she stepped out of the shower and walked over to the sinks to finally get a look at the thing she’d been trying to avoid thinking about.

The collar, or “restraint” as Agent Jacobs called it, was largely a dull grey metal mostly consisting of a seamless band that wrapped around her neck. Loose enough she could move it a bit, but not so loose that she could slip it over her head. The band wrapped around and slotted into a larger, boxier part of the device. And there was a small, shinier metal plate on it that had orange enameled lettering reading “RA - 2” just like the nameplate next to her door. She tugged at it and it rattled ever so slightly, but otherwise it seemed solid and unmoving. “Fucking bastards…” she muttered.

She headed back to her room and dropped her towel and clothes on the floor before flopping back onto the bed. She was tired, very much so, but still felt too on edge to fall into sleep. She huffed an annoyed sigh before getting back up and grabbing her original clothes out of the dresser and laying them on the bed. She only had the one set so it was going to take some planning to make a few different outfits with them. For today though, the base outfit would be fine. After putting on the shorts, socks, and shoes, she pulled the shirt over her head and tied a knot in the front to give it a psuedo crop top look. Her hair looked a bit of a mess and unfortunately she didn’t have anything to tie it up with.

As she was lamenting this fact a soft chime noise sounded over her head, slightly startling her. She then heard some commotion in the hallway. Rachel cracked her door open a fraction and saw other people, other inmates probably, exiting the rooms and making their way down the hall. She remembered the meal times that Agent Jacobs had mentioned the day before. Assuming that’s what the sound meant, she took a deep breath and let it out before pulling her door open and stepping into the small trail of people heading towards breakfast.

The cafeteria reminded her of every school lunchroom she’d ever been in. Wide open area with a number of fold out tables with attached seating, tile floors, and a buffet line wrapping around past the back of the room where the kitchen was. She got in line and for once in her life tried not to draw attention. There would be time for that later but she needed more of an advantage first. And food, which honestly smelled really good.

No one bothered her while she was in line, but once she’d grabbed her tray and was stepping up for food the man on the other side of the buffet line caught her eye. He looked like the picture perfect idea of a western grandpa, or Santa Claus in his off time. He had long grey-white hair and bushy beard to match. He was wearing a denim work shirt with a patch on the breast pocket that said “Duckie”, and while she initially thought he must be staff, she noticed he was wearing a collar same as her and everyone else. His own being stamped with “RMIII - 5” in white letters.

The man was conversing genially with every single person in line, but when he saw her his eyes lit up. “Well I believe that’s a new face! Welcome to the department, miss?”

“Rachel,” she answered cautiously.

He smiled. “Well Rachel, I’m Reginald McCallister the third, but most people just call me Duckie,” he replied. “I’d love to get to know you more young lady but if I do then we’ll have quite the line on our hands,” he joked. “What can I get you to eat?” He asked.

Rachel glanced around at the options behind the glass. “Got any recommendations, Duckie?”

Duckie smiled at her again before scooping some grits onto her tray and grabbing a hamsteak to set beside them. “There’s also drink cups and fruit at the end of the line,” he pointed. “Enjoy your food.”

With a banana and a cup of hot coffee added to her tray, Rachel made her way to an unoccupied corner table so she could get a read on her fellow inmates. At first glance it could almost look like a scene from a community college cafeteria, until of course you looked close enough to realise absolutely everyone was wearing collars. And those that weren’t had badges. The ages ranged from teenagers to people more Duckie’s age, with the majority being firmly in the ‘young adult’ range. She was in the middle of taking note of the guards when a body blocked her line of sight.

“So they finally let you out of the hole huh?” The person, a girl, remarked upon setting her tray and herself down opposite Rachel. She was a teen, but taller than Rachel. With olive skin, silky black hair in a ponytail, and sharp brown eyes. She was wearing ripped jeans that could put Dana Ward’s to shame, and a cropped t-shirt that said “COME AT ME BRO”. She had a nose stud in her left nostril and, like everyone else, a collar around her neck. Hers was stamped with “SLF - 3” in yellow letters. Rachel was starting to realise that the colors must mean something specific.

As she was processing that she remembered that the girl had basically asked her a question. “Wait, what?” She responded, less gracefully than she would have liked.

“Solitary confinement?” The girl probed. “You were in there for like two weeks right?”

“One week,” she replied. “Who are you?”

“I’m Safi,” the girl said somewhat theatrically. “And this-” she reached behind her and grabbed the wrist of someone else. “-girl trying to sneak by me, is Alex.”

The girl Safi just hauled front and center Rachel immediately recognized as the young girl sitting next to the bitch during her interrogation. Rachel felt her blood starting to boil. This girl helped them imprison her.

Before she could do anything however the girl slammed her tray down and put her hands up. “Wait! I know you’re mad, but if you try to use your powers the restraint will sedate you!” She said quickly.

Neither of them moved, after a few tense seconds the other girl, Safi, spoke up. “Hey Alex, why don’t you go grab a cup of coffee for a second?” As soon as the girl scurried away Safi turned to Rachel. “Okay, firebug, you got the whole speech about ‘helping out’ right?” She asked, accentuating with air quotes.

“Not much of a speech,” Rachel replied. “She compared it to good behavior.”

“So you gotta understand that, for better or for worse, we’re all locked in here together,” she began quickly. “Some folks don’t have as good of a handle on the things they can do as people like you or I. And ‘helping out’,” she used air quotes again. “Is the only way they can get help. It's not out of a love for the cause or anything. The DPI uses Alex to help with intake, but it's also the only way she gets to learn control. You might be justifiably angry, believe me I know the feeling. But try to keep a lid on it and be angry at the right people.”

Alex soon returned with a second cup of coffee and the three of them sat in an awkward silence. Rachel got a better look at her now, she was a bit shorter than her, with short asymmetrical black hair and round glasses. She had on a pair of overalls with one strap unhooked, and a black shirt with a yellow bird underneath them. And of course a collar, hers with “AC - 4” labeled in blue.

After another tense moment Safi broke the silence again. “Soooo…” she began. “Safi, Alex,” she gestured at each of them before looking at her expectantly.

“Rachel,” she replied

“Welcome Rachel,” she swept her hands across the cafeteria. “To the circle Dante didn’t tell you about.” She drummed her fingers on the table dramatically. “What are you in for?” She asked.

Rachel cocked her head to the side and pointed two fingers at them. “You just called me ‘firebug’, and she watched me set the whole interrogation room on fire. I think it's pretty obvious.”

“Nonono,” Safi said, shaking her head. “That’s what you can do. What did you do?” She asked. “Like, what got you caught.”

She thought about it for a moment. “Well there was a forest fire, but that was three years ago.”

Safi and Alex looked at each other, shocked before turning back to Rachel. “A forest fire?” Safi questioned. “Like, a whole forest? Damn girl, you really earned that two.”

Rachel grabbed at the collar. “What does it mean?” She asked. “The numbers and colors.”

“It's a danger assessment scale,” Alex piped up this time.

“How much of a threat we are,” Safi added. “It counts up from five to one, white, blue, yellow, orange, and red.”

“I haven’t seen a red yet,” Rachel countered.

Safi shook her head. “And you probably won’t. The ones are in Hall C, maximum security. Twos are the highest in minimum.”

“So what,” Rachel said. “I’m like, the most dangerous person in the room?”

“You and…” Safi turned around, looking for someone. “There,” she pointed. “The gingerish girl with the denim jacket and the tampa bay hat. That’s Savvy, she’s another two.”

“What about you two?” Rachel asked.

Safi grinned mischievously. Suddenly orangish light started arcing over her body, like a localized aurora, bright enough to mask her form. When it faded after a few seconds Rachel was staring at an identical copy of herself. “Pretty cool, right?” Rachel’s voice spoke back at her.

“Holy shit…” Rachel breathed.

The Rachel copy was about to speak when a gruff voice interrupted. “Safi…” The man was one of the agents stationed around the cafeteria. He had greying hair with a bushy beard and mustache. He wore a white button up shirt tucked into jeans with a DPI badge handing off his belt. Up until now he’d just been quietly looming nearby.

Safi reverted to her original form and smiled at him with nothing but malice. “Jed, I want you to know that it is my solemn wish that one day you die alone, abandoned by all of those you’ve ever hurt or wronged.” The man’s jaw clenched and he stalked away to post up in another corner of the room. “Anyway, that’s me,” Safi continued, turning to face Rachel.

“You’re a shapeshifter,” Rachel said, somewhat awed.

“In the ballpark at least,” Safi replied. “I’m not actually changing, I’m just altering yours and everyone’s perception of me. And our little friend here,” she said, putting her hands on Alex’s shoulders. “Is a dyed in the wool super empath.”

“It’s not all it’s cracked up to be,” Alex quickly added. “Feeling other people’s emotions all the time can be… overwhelming.”

“Hence, me keeping a lid on it,” Rachel said to Safi, who nodded in return.

“Being around people with strong emotions… I can lose myself in it…” Alex said.

“So that’s why the DPI wants your help with new people?” Rachel asked.

“That and…” Alex watched Rachel carefully. “I also have some low grade telepathy…” That immediately set Rachel’s alarms off, which Alex must have felt because she quickly threw her hands up again. “It’s not an always thing!” She clarified. “Surface level emotions come with surface level thoughts. But I have to reach for them, and even then it's only what’s at the front. I can’t go deep diving in your brain.”

“O-kay…” Rachel said, only somewhat mollified. “On that note, are there any like, full blown mind readers I should be on the lookout for?”

Alex shook her head. “Not really, there’s one but they’re a level one, so they’re in maximum. And truthfully, I think the DPI keeps them in a coma, because just looking around isn’t the only thing they can do in your head.”

“Anyway, that’s all well and terrifying,” Safi jumped in. “But tell us more about you,” she said to Rachel. “Let’s get to know each other.”

Rachel grinned, positively catlike. “Ever play two truths and a lie?”

Chapter Text

“So is there any kind of menu rotation to this place?” Rachel asked.

Safi nodded her head as she stuffed a bite of meatloaf in her mouth. “Mostly for holidays and religious observances,” she said, covering her mouth. “Occasionally they’ll try to pull out something interesting but it’s about fifty-fifty whether it pans out.”

“Fajita night,” Alex said, looking at Safi knowingly.

“Oh my gooood,” Safi replied. “Complete disaster.”

Rachel laughed at them as she tucked into her grilled cheese and soup. Since meeting the pair of teens a few days prior, she’d spent most of the time she been outside of her room with them. Either in the recreation room or walking around in “Central Park” as she learned everyone here called the outdoor area. It was neither central nor a park, but the semantics of it didn’t seem to matter to anyone.

It was nice to have some company to stave off the alienation she felt whenever she caught the guards or the DPI agents watching her, anytime she felt the weight of the collar around her neck, or just when the small things - like the bars on her window - reminded her that she was locked in a facility in the middle of god knows where. Anything that could make her feel more human, was a plus.

“Who let the dogs out…” Safi suddenly mumbled icily, shaking Rachel from her thoughts.

“What?” She asked, looking up at the teens who were both staring off towards the food line.

She followed their line of sight to see a girl about her height with a choppy bob of brown hair. She looked familiar in a way Rachel couldn’t immediately place. Her clothes consisted of a grey hoodie over a black t-shirt with a deer skull and jeans. What really caught Rachel’s attention was the much bulkier collar she had on. With bright red lettering on the side of it.

“You said they keep all the ones in Hall C,” Rachel whispered, turning back towards the others.

“She’s not a one,” Safi replied, still watching the other girl. “The one is a lie. It’s a false courtesy given to us in the vague hope that we won’t realise that the director’s locked us in here with her pet nuke.”

“So… who is she?” Rachel asked.

Safi finally turned to look at Rachel. “This whole place is a carrot and stick operation,” she said. “You’ve seen the carrot, now meet the stick.”

“She breaks the scale,” Alex added. “She’s the only level zero Meta they’ve ever found.”

Rachel was thrown at that. “Wait, if I’m dangerous as a two, and ones are supposed to be apocalyptic, then what the fuck is a zero?? And how do you know that?”

“Surface level thought scanning and consistent close proximity to the Director,” Alex answered.

“So why the fuck are they letting someone like that just walk around in minimum?” Rachel hissed, she turned to watch the girl arrive at a table in time for all of its occupants to flee. She thought she saw the girl’s shoulders drop in a sigh.

“She’s the stick, remember?” Safi replied. “She’s the director’s personal attack dog, put here specifically to send everyone a message. Maxine fucking Caulfield.”

The name set off alarm bells but it wasn’t until the girl sat down and Rachel saw a face full of freckles and a pair of bright blue eyes that all the pieces slotted into place.

A box of memories stacked tall with Polaroids of a pair of smiling, happy girls.

One strawberry blonde, left heartbroken and alone.

One brunette, who pulled a vanishing act that would make Houdini gasp.

Rachel was on her feet and crossing the room before she even had a plan in place. She could just barely make out Safi hissing something at her before she got out of range.

A few seconds later she was sitting down on the bench opposite the girl, who looked up from her food. “Hey,” she said.

“Hey,” Rachel replied, calm and collected. “You don’t know me, but I know you.”

“How can I help you, Rachel?” The girl asked.

That caught her entirely off guard. She wasn’t sure if the other girl noticed, but she definitely gave her the two heartbeats she needed to recollect herself. “You’re Max Caulfield,” she started.

“Sure am,” she said.

“So what’s your deal?” Rachel asked. “Are you super smart or something? Do you ‘know everything?’ Is that why everyone’s afraid of you?”

The girl sighed and dropped her fork and slid her tray to the side. “You didn’t just storm over here to ask me about my powers,” she replied.

“Why do you think I’m over here?” Rachel countered.

“I can think of a couple reasons,” she answered. “But ‘find the biggest badass and make them your bitch’ doesn’t really seem like your style.”

“You abandoned Chloe,” Rachel snapped.

“Right, that was the other reason,” she said, coolly.

“You left her to fucking die in that shithole town,” Rachel slammed her hands on the table, prompting people to turn and watch what was happening.

“Thirteen year olds don’t exactly get a say when their parents decide to move,” Max said.

“You could have fucking called!” Rachel shouted. “Texted her, mailed a fucking letter, something! Instead of just abandoning her and leaving the rest of us to pick up the broken pieces.”

Max sighed again. “Rachel-“

“Do you have any idea how much you hurt her?” Rachel interrupted.

“Yeah, I do,” Max snapped back. “I know exactly how much I hurt Chloe Price, down to a level of detail you wouldn’t even fucking believe.”

Rachel huffed. “Oh, so you-“

“But while we’re on the subject of hurting Chloe,” Max interrupted now. “Maybe you could tell me how much you think you fucking Frank Bowers and Mark Jefferson behind her back would hurt her.”

Rachel’s blood went ice cold. She struggled to get out a response but Max kept rolling.

“You can’t actually,” she spat at Rachel. “Because you weren’t there to watch her find that out. I can though, because I was there to see it.”

“W-what?” Rachel stammered.

“Time is my ‘deal’, Rachel Amber,” Max stood up, both hands on the table, leaning towards her. “Past, present, future. Backwards and forwards. Left and right. Pause, play, stop.” There was an anger in her eyes that told Rachel every bit of why people here were afraid of her. “Don’t talk to me about hurting Chloe. I know very well how much I hurt her, meanwhile you, have no fucking clue.” She turned and stormed out of the cafeteria.

Rachel stared at the space where Max formerly was. Max knew things about her that no one else did. Counted out her sins and threw them back in her face. She felt off balance in a way she never had before. Snapping out of her stupor she looked around and realised that everyone in the room was now staring at her.

She heard quick footsteps and Safi appeared at her side. “Holy shit…” she breathed.

Chapter Text

Rachel sat in one of the reading nooks in an overlooked corner of the DPI’s library. She’d learned about the hidey hole from Alex, who used it to get away from the crowds when their emotions were too much to deal with. Since her encounter with Max a few days ago she’d noticed everyone else’s eyes on her periodically and seen them giving her a wide berth. And while past Rachel might have enjoyed the drama and attention, developing a reputation as the one who “poked the bear” as Safi had put it, wasn’t ideal.

So here she sat, reading a Shakespeare anthology she’d found on the shelves. She had just finished the first act to Twelfth Night when a familiar voice caught her attention.

“Hi, I need to return these,” she heard Max say.

Rachel craned her head past the edge of a bookcase to watch them.

“Anything else?” The librarian, another Meta, asked. Her tone was clearly one of trying to keep the conversation as short as possible.

“No,” Max answered. “I’m gonna be too busy to read today.”

The librarian simply nodded and Max turned to leave. Rachel quickly, but quietly got to her feet. She headed towards the exit as well, depositing the anthology on a book return cart. As she passed through the doors and turned left towards the stairs and the rest of the common area.

Except there was no one else in the hall. That shouldn’t be right, the library was the first common area for the Metas in this wing. Unless Max had taken off at a dead sprint, she should still be in here somewhere, heading for the stairs or the cafeteria or the rec room

The only other option was… Rachel whirled around to face the other direction. And saw Max standing just past the library door, leaning against the wall, watching her. She was wearing a black plaid flannel over a plain blue shirt with skinny jeans with chucks. “Hey,” she said.

“What are you doing?” Rachel asked, narrowing her eyes.

“Saving you the trouble of following me by just waiting here for you instead,” Max supplied.

Rachel scoffed. “I wasn’t following you, Caulfield. I live here too, I’m allowed to walk down these hallways.”

Max nodded. “You’re right. And I definitely, genuinely would have believed that had I not just caught you following me for the next five minutes and turned it back to wait for you here.”

She glared at Max, crossing her arms with a huff. “Well now you’re just showing off.”

To her genuine surprise Max actually chuckled at that. “Maybe a little,” she said with a smirk, before stuffing her hands in her pockets and walking past Rachel. She turned around to face Rachel, walking backwards. “So, why were you trying to follow me?”

“I… don’t know,” Rachel responded, turning to walk with Max. “I guess because I haven’t done it yet?”

“Yeah, that’s the trouble with time travel,” Max replied. “Sometimes it can screw up your plans before you even knew you had plans.”

“You really can control it, huh? Time?” She asked.

Now that Rachel had caught up to her, Max turned around and continued walking beside her. “Yeah… unfortunately.”

“Unfortunately?” Rachel asked, looking at the other girl.

Max chuckled again. “Some of us don’t like having the power to destroy reality at our fingertips.”

“So that’s why you stay here,” Rachel said. “Because you believe you’re a threat?”

“I am a threat,” Max countered.

“Powers aside, you don’t seem that dangerous to me,” Rachel declared.

Max stopped walking and turned, looking Rachel in the eye. “I killed the entire population of Arcadia Bay,” she deadpanned.

Rachel froze. “What…” she breathed. “When?”

“Five months from now,” Max answered. “Five years ago.”

“That doesn’t make sense,” Rachel said.

“Time doesn’t make sense around me Rachel,” Max replied. “My past is your future. October eleventh twenty thirteen is five months from now for you, for me it was almost five years ago.”

“How long have you been here?” She asked.

“Since September of two thousand eight,” Max said, sitting down on a bench.

They were outside now, Rachel realised. She joined Max on the bench. “You’ve been here the whole time. That’s why you ghosted Chloe,” she watched Max carefully.

Max sighed, staring off into the forest beyond the fence. “Technically yes,” she said. “But while I’d love to use that as an excuse, it’s not why I did the same thing to my Chloe the first time.”

“Why did you do it?” Rachel asked.

“Unless you want to start trading questions about why each of us hurt Chloe, then I think we should just drop it,” Max said, still staring into the distance.

Rachel did not in fact want to have that conversation. Instead she turned to face the trees like Max. It was honestly a pretty morning, the sun was high and the breeze was cool. “Where are we?” She asked.

“A ways out from Billings,” Max replied.

“Montana??” She turned to the brunette. “Transporting an individual across multiple state lines isn’t a crime?” She asked indignantly.

“Not when you’re being arrested for burning down twenty square miles of Oregon with your mind,” Max answered. “And not when it's a shadowy government organization doing the transporting.”

“Why are you here?” Rachel asked.

Max looked like she was debating whether to answer that when the meal time sound chimed across the park. “That’s lunch,” Max deflected. “You go ahead, I’m not hungry.”

After a minute or two of waiting it was clear to Rachel that she wasn’t getting anymore conversation out of Max. She stood up and started walking away. Glancing over her shoulder she saw Max still just staring out at the trees. She had a look in her eyes that told Rachel that Max was definitely holding back.

Rachel wanted to know what she was hiding, what made Max Caulfield tick. She was a puzzle, and Rachel loved puzzles.

Chapter Text

Rachel idly nibbled at her breakfast, a bowl of oatmeal with fruit today, while reading more of the Shakespeare anthology she’d reacquired from the library. Occasionally, she made subtle glances across the cafeteria at her latest object of interest, one Max Caulfield, who was mindlessly picking at a waffle it looked like. The brunette was dressed a bit differently today, to Rachel’s surprise. Instead of the skinny jeans and a hoodie, she had on some black heavy canvas pants, with combat boots, and a black fitted sleeveless shirt. Rachel was also a bit shocked to see some fairly well-toned biceps on Max that made her even more curious about the girl.

Her vision was abruptly obscured by a body. Looking up at the newcomer she saw Safi staring down at her, today’s outfit consisting of a pair of black leggings and a cropped hoodie that said “PROBLEM CHILD” on it in a bold font. “Admiring the local wildlife?” she asked, seating herself across from Rachel.

When Rachel’s face expressed confusion the other girl nodded in the direction of Max. Quick to derail Safi’s suspicions, Rachel made an observation of her own. “No Alex this morning?”

Safi huffed in annoyance. “Diane grabbed her on the way to breakfast,” she said. “Which means that there’s probably someone new coming, which also explains why the Director’s pet is dressed like a SWAT team reject today.”

Rachel’s brow furrowed in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“Ohhhh,” Safi replied, realisation apparent on her face. “You didn’t know. I guess that’s why I saw you two being so buddy buddy yesterday.” She glanced around the room before leaning in closer to Rachel. “She’s not just a guard dog, sometimes they send her to play fetch as well.”

“Safi… What are you saying?” Rachel asked.

“Caulfield’s the one that brings the Metas here,” she replied. “The DPI sends her to hunt them down and bring them here. She’s the one that brought you here, firebug.”

As the shock of that washed over Rachel she felt a burning anger building inside her. A trilling sound started beeping in her ear.

“Rachel,” Safi said, looking at her neck. “Your collar.”

She was probably approaching that temperature limit Agent Jacobs talked about. She thought about that and then thought about the fact that she was wearing a collar at all. About how if Max hadn’t brought her here she’d still be free, still be in Arcadia Bay, living her own life, on her own terms. She abruptly stood up, grabbing her food tray and dumping her oatmeal bowl off of it in the process. Rounding the table she stalked across the cafeteria towards the apparent cause of all her problems.

Max’s back was to her but Rachel noticed that she’d pushed her own food tray away. Something that, had she been less angry at the time, Rachel might have taken as a sign of things to come. She reared back and flung her tray as hard as she could at Max’s head only for it to angrily bounce off the wall behind the table, seeing as her target was no longer there.

“I don’t suppose we could just talk about this instead?” Max’s said, now suddenly behind her.

The beeping noise was starting to strain what little restraint Rachel had left as she swung her fist, meeting only air as Max easily ducked away from it. She tried to counter with a kick but the brunette was once again, suddenly gone. Rachel turned to see Max standing behind her again, having fucking teleporterd or something. She had her hands in her pockets, it seemed like she wasn’t even trying, and that just Rachel made angrier. Rachel swung again and this time instead of fully dodging it, Max grabbed her wrist and sidestepped, using Rachel’s own momentum to bend her arm back and pin Rachel’s face to the table with her free hand.

“Rachel, please calm down,” Max said, effortlessly holding Rachel down. “I know you’re mad but is it really worth getting sedated trying to kill me??”

She’d had enough, Rachel roared as the flames engulfed her. But suddenly she couldn’t feel Max’s hands on her anymore. She did feel the prick in her neck though, right before the darkness swallowed her.

-

Rachel came to staring at the bare, concrete walls of the solitary confinement cell that was her introduction to the DPI. “FUCK!!” She slammed her fist against the wall.

“To be fair,” a voice said, startling her as she looked up and realised Max Caulfield was in the cell with her. “I did try to stop you from ending up in this room.” She was sitting on the floor against the wall across from Rachel, knees bent up and arms resting on top of them.

Rachel swung her feet to the floor and glared at the girl. “My collar’s turned off in here. What’s to stop me from just incinerating you and the rest of the room?”

“The fact that I’ll just teleport out,” she sighed. “And leave you to get hosed down by the fire suppression system.”

“And what if I-“

“You can’t kill me, Rachel,” Max interrupted, suddenly sounding tired beyond her years. “Even I can’t kill me.”

“So, what? You’re just here to gloat at me?” She asked.

Max groaned. “God, why do you have to turn everything into a fight?” She got to her feet. “No, I’m not here to gloat at you, Rachel,” she said, picking up a suitcase that wasn’t there a moment ago and dropped it on Rachel’s bed. “I’m trying to keep the peace between us.”

“What is it?” Rachel asked, eyeing the suitcase.

“An olive branch,” Max replied.

Rachel turned towards it and unzipped the suitcase, folding open the lid and seeing a bunch of familiar looking clothes. It was then that it dawned on her. “This is my suitcase,” she said. Max simply nodded. Rachel recognized the luggage now, she’d taken it on countless trips over the years with her family. Or more specifically, James and the woman he lied to Rachel about being her mother for years. “So did you just, like, break into my house and steal a bunch of my stuff?” She asked.

“Yeah,” Max replied. “Two and a half weeks ago when I brought you here. But then I noticed that you’d been just making a bunch of outfits out of the same set of clothes so I realised the DPI was probably withholding the bag from you.”

She stared at it, in shock. Once again Max had thrown her so thoroughly off her game. “Why did you bring me here Max?” She asked, turning towards the other girl. “You know so much about me. Apparently, enough to pick out clothes I’d like from my closet. So surely you’d know how much of a hell it is for me to be caged up like this.”

Max sighed as she slid down the wall to sit on the floor again. “Because Rachel, the alternative was you dying.” Rachel was stunned to silence so Max kept talking. “In my original time, Jefferson and Nathan killed you on April twenty-second.”

“That was…” Rachel started. “The last night I remember before I woke up here. I got really drunk an-“

“Nathan drugged you,” Max interrupted. “You weren’t that drunk. Nathan took you to his and Jefferson’s twisted little funhouse. He was trying to impress Jefferson, who had been teaching him how to drug and kidnap young girls so they could take pictures of them. But in your case, Nathan got the dose wrong and OD’d you, and Jefferson helped him dispose of your body.” Max was staring at the wall, but Rachel could tell she wasn’t really here as she continued talking. “I have never seen Chloe more devastated than the moment we found your body in the junkyard… So congratulations,” Max said, turning to look Rachel in the eye. “You’re alive.”

“Mar-“ Rachel stopped herself. “Jefferson… he was…”

“A monster,” Max finished.

She stared at Max, for a moment before finding her words. “You’re lying…”

“What would I gain by lying to you about this Rachel?” Max countered.

Rachel’s eyes fell to the floor. She felt sick, horrified, in shock, a mixture of many things. But most of all, she felt disappointed. “Everything I did, all of the wicked things, just to save my own ass, and get out of that fucking town, only to die inside its limits…”

“I’m sorry…” Max replied.

“Fuck off Max.” Rachel said.

“Okay.”

And when she looked up, Max was gone. That was good, Rachel didn’t want anyone to see her crying.

Chapter Text

Rachel was leaning against the wall on the bunk fighting the urge to nod off when she heard her collar beep again. That woke her up just in time to hear the latches on the cell door cycle before it opened and Agent Jacobs was standing there staring at her.

“Rachel,” the woman spoke.

“Diane,” Rachel replied coolly.

“You’re being let out early for good behavior,” Diane said.

Rachel narrowed her eyes. “I got my dinner tray like two hours ago, why so late?”

“You’re welcome to stay in here until morning if you want.”

Rachel got to her feet and grabbed the suitcase. “Jeez, someone’s cranky.”

Agent Jacobs pointed at the case. “Where did you get that??”

“Max Caulfield gave it to me,” Rachel replied. “Apparently you all forgot to give it to me when she brought me here.”

She was being deliberately antagonistic this time. She wanted to see exactly just how far she could push things where Max was concerned.

Diane stood there, visibly chewing at the inside of her cheek for a moment before she huffed and nodded towards the hallway. “Go on,” she said, much more curt and impatient than she was that first day Rachel had met her.

Rachel stepped out and Agent Jacobs walked beside her as they headed out of the solitary wing. “Why are you still here?” Rachel asked. “Isn’t there some sort of night shift that could be escorting me?”

“You’re one of the residents under my specific supervision,” she replied as she scanned her hand on the palm reader. “That means that I have to be onsite for matters that concern you.”

“Well that seems like a shitty job requirement,” Rachel said, feigning compassion. “Shouldn’t you be at home with your one point eight children and your deeply unsatisfying heterosexual marriage?”

Diane turned and glared at her. “If you’re so concerned with my homelife then maybe you can behave yourself so I don’t have to keep odd hours.”

Rachel winked at her and smirked. “No promises.” She turned to walk down the main corridor towards her room. “Goodnight and go fuck yourself, Diane!” She called back in a singsong voice.

Rachel made her way through the facility with a purpose. Her night release would require some slight adjustment to her plans but in reality it would probably work in her favor. She made it back to her room and tossed the suitcase on her bed. Unzipping it, she grabbed her shower and skincare accoutrements, dropping them into the caddy she’d been using and tossing the ones she’d gotten from the DPL into the bottom of her wardrobe.

Next, she set aside her preplanned outfit of jean shorts and a purple flannel and instead grabbed a plain grey cotton bralette and a pair of light cotton shorts in the same color. Scooping up the clothes, caddy, and her towel, she made her way to the shower for phase two of her plan.

She wanted to take a longer shower to really enjoy having her own soaps and what not back again, but she was on a schedule so instead Rachel limited herself to about ten minutes. After climbing out and toweling off, she donned her newly reacquired clothes and hiked the shorts up before rolling the waistband down a few times. She didn’t have a hairdryer so she patted her hair dry as best she could before twisting it and putting it up with a claw clip. She appraised herself in the mirror for a moment. Cute, distracting, but not too obvious.

After dropping her stuff off back in her room it was time for the final phase of her plan. Rachel made her way up to the third floor for the second time since she’d been here. The first being purely to snoop around. Having done that however she knew exactly where she needed to go and soon she was standing in front of a door with a plaque that said MC-1. She knocked on the door and waited.

She held her breath as she waited what felt like minutes before the lock clicked and the door opened. A scruffy mop of brown hair appeared framing those intense blue eyes. At first Max wore a look of confusion but after a moment those blue eyes swept down Rachel’s person, lingering long enough to confirm for her that even Max Caulfield, time lord, could be caught staring.

“Rachel?” Max questioned, her voice seeming equal measures curiosity and wariness.

Rachel fixed a killer smile on her face. “Heeeey,” she said sweetly. “So I feel like we got off on the wrong foot.”

Instead of any kind of solid answer, Max let out a tired sigh. “Rachel, if your plan was to seduce me I’ll save you the time and effort by telling you ‘no’ right now.”

The blonde gaped at her, mouth opening and closing a few times before the shock washed over her and she narrowed her eyes in a glare. “Being able to time travel is fucking cheating, Caulfield,” she growled through her teeth at the woman who’d quickly become her biggest foil.

“You tried to kill me five days ago,” Max huffed. “It doesn’t take a time traveler to know that the same person showing up at my room dressed like the girl next door means there’s an ulterior motive.”

Rachel scoffed. “‘Girl next door??’ I was going for ‘Jennifer Check’ thank you very much.

Max let out an honest to god laugh at that. “So who does that make, Needy? You know she kills Jennifer at the end, right?”

“Maybe in the canon version of events,” Rachel turned her nose up, crossing her arms.

“Would you like to actually come in?” Max asked, gesturing into her room. “Without trying to seduce me?”

Rachel considered that for a moment. Her plans were not only completely revealed but shot down without a chance as well, and yet Max was still offering her the chance to hang out. She was being confusing again. That mix of definitive shutdown and willingness to still try and bridge the gap between them. The bridge that Rachel kept trying to set fire to. She couldn’t face Max now, she was once again put on her back foot. “Mmm, no,” Rachel said, turning on her heel and walking away. “You’ve killed the fun in it,” she threw over her shoulder.

Max laughed again. “Goodnight, Rachel,” she said, closing the door quietly.

Rachel made her way back downstairs to her room on the second level. Flopping onto her bed and reflecting on the interaction. She wanted to dissect more of who Max Caulfield was, but she needed that to happen on her terms. She had to come up with a new plan.