Fix You (Thundermans) [Discontinued For The Foreseeable Future]

Chapter Sixteen

Phoebe
Phoebe hit her lip, fiddling with her hands. Her mom had just rushed downstairs, and Phoebe knew that she was confronting Max. To say she was worried was a huge understatement.

Once Barb saw the scars, Max would figure out that Phoebe told her, and he'd no doubt want to murder her or something. Then, Barb will definitely tell Hank, and Nora will of course overhear, and spill the news to Billy. Maybe Phoebe bit of more than she can chew..

Max
Barb's eyes watered as she looked at her son's arm. Her job as a parent was to protect him from all evils, but she didn't even consider trying to protect him from hisself.

Max gulped, and started thinking. If Barb knew, then Phoebe must have said something. No one else knew, and he was pretty sure no one had seen his arms recently other than Phoebe. Great, he thought. If she sent Phoebe away, she'd definitely send him away to a therapist or rehab center; maybe even an asylum, if they even had those around anymore. What could he do?

Max yanked his arm from his mother's grasp, and stood up from the bed, aiming to get away from the house, maybe confront Phoebe for betraying him along the way. He rolled down his sleeves as far as he could, used his bracelets to cover up as much skin as he could, and made towards the stairs. But Barb wanted the last word.

"Maximus, why would you ever do something like that? Especially to yourself? Why wouldn't you tell me?!" Barb frantically cried, trying to get Max to stop leaving. But he ran up the stairs, and searched for Phoebe, who was thankfully (or unthankfully) in the living room, pacing. Before Barb could come out of her reverie to catch up with him, he stormed over to Phoebe.

"Why the hell would you tell her?!" he asked, practically shouting. Phoebe's eyes widened as she stopped pacing, looking at Max with guilty eyes.

"I couldn't just lie to her, Max, I'm sorry, she needed to know-"

"That's no excuse!" he yelled. "You promised! You promised you wouldn't say anything, and you betrayed me!"

Phoebe walking closer to him, but with every step forward she took, he took one back. "Max, please- I tried- I kept it for so long-"

"But not long fucking enough! Promises are forever, yet you go and just- just- act like a total two-faced whore-"

Phoebe's eyes filled with rage, along with a subtlety of sadness. "Don't call me that!"

"Well it's what you are!"

And with that, Max ran out of the house, slamming the front door behind him. In his wake, Phoebe dashed up the stairs and into her room, where she locked the door and turned on the shower, just sitting under the running water. She couldn't think, she felt numb. She did the right thing by telling Barb. Max just didn't see it. He was sick - depressed - angry - he wasn't thinking straight. Phoebe didn't betray him. She didn't.

But she couldn't help but feel so, so guilty that she'd caused him more pain and stress.

Barb
Barb rubbed her hand over her face, having heard the whole ordeal. She didn't know what to do next. Did she go after Max? After Phoebe? Did she talk to Hank.

She sighed, deciding the latter idea would most likely be the best approach. Maybe his granddad had some legend about a fallout between the twin lovers, too. (Note: sarcasm.)

Oh, man. Lovers? Was that what she's calling them now?

Barb shook her head, then ascended the stairs to talk with her husband.

Max
Max didn't know where he was going, he just knew that he couldn't stay here. As in, the house where his current enemy/girlfriend resided. He couldn't face his mom, he couldn't talk all of this out. He couldn't go to rehab, he couldn't talk to w therapist. It wouldn't help. It wouldn't. He was sure of it.

And Phoebe... How could he face her, after she betrayed him like that? Hell, after he called her a two-face whore? She'd never forgive him. He'd never forgive her. Never. He was sure of it.

Phoebe
Phoebe sobbed into her hands, leaning against the cool, tile shower wall. The water had started to run cold, but she hadn't taken notice. Hadn't cared. Why would she?

Max had called her such an awful name. Max. Max. He'd called her..

She couldn't even think of the word.

Sure, he could've called her worse, but she'd never been called such a derogatory name before. Loser, know-it-all, party-pooper, sure. But, w..hore? Never. Gosh, no.

How could the guy she was - no, she wouldn't think it. Not until she was proud to say it, when she was sure he felt it, would say it, back. Not until he apologized. A sincere, real apology. She wouldn't run after him, wouldn't find him and coddle him, begging for forgiveness.

Not this time.