Who:Max Rockatansky madman & Capable _capable_ What: A talk on the beach When: Saturday 22nd August Where: Max’s beach hangout Rating: General Audiences Warnings: PTSD war veteran and rehabilitating cult survivor Status: Closed/Complete GDoc
~*~
Capable had contacted Max after digesting the most recent of her dreams, it had taken her a while but she wanted to talk to him. She considered him a friend and couldn’t help but be curious whether or not he knew her from the dreams too. He was much like he was here, quiet, serious and competent. They hadn’t yet discovered his name but Furiosa seemed to trust him so the ‘wives’ did too.
She had caught the bus to the beach and was walking towards the spot where he had told her she would find him. Smiling as she saw him she waved, there was something very calming about Max and she felt very safe around him. The same kind of feeling she got around Furiosa and Capable liked it a lot.
“Hello Max” she greeted him, “How are you today?”
~*~
Sand felt better to Max than water. He wasn't sure why it was he could appreciate the dry grit of it on his skin, could have been a result of the war or could have been a side effect of his disease. There were far more unusual things about him than his preference for sitting in the sand than walking in the water when at the beach. It was nice over his bare feet as he sat on a dune, leaned back on his hands, face turned up to the sun with his eyes closed; he almost looked young again.
Almost.
Giving a half-smile in the woman's direction, he raised a hand to wave back, "G'day to yourself. Enjoying the sand. Sun. Reminds me of something. Home maybe. Where I belong most likely. You? Happy today?"
Happiness was a fleeting emotion to Max. It was worth celebrating when he had it. He was willing to ask after it for others when he knew them enough to bother caring. Capable had become a fixture in his life since meeting her at the social services center. She was doing better than himself as far as he knew. There was comfort in that for him seeing as he couldn't imagine a world where he was better.
Max could imagine a world where everyone else was better. ~*~
It was nice to see Max looking relaxed, Capable appreciated being able to see it too. Not many people did she was sure of that. But he did look younger. And natural in the sand too. Especially after the dreams, ironically Capable enjoyed the sand more than she had thought she would. Apparently there were less negative connotations with it than she had assumed. But then none of it had been the sand's fault.
“I’m glad, you looked more relaxed than I’ve seen you before. Maybe the beach is good for you” Capable said, coming to sit next to him. “I’m okay. Today is a good day so I’m happy” she tended to try to be happy most days though sometimes it was harder than others.
Capable was definitely thriving between therapy, education classes and her job she was working out who she was and what her place in the world was. It would take time but she was good with that. So far she was able to take only the good from her dreams too, Furiosa, Splendid and Max being big parts of that.
“I had a dream the other night” she told him, “One of those really vivid ones”
~*~
Nudging her gently with his shoulder, Max grinned, "Come from a world of sand. Should look good on a beach. Best am able to look as the wind blows. You? Pretty all the time. Lucky girl."
She was pretty in a wholesome way which reminded him of Pietro. The Russian man had a healthy look to him all the time. Max wasn't certain he had ever been so healthy looking. It felt as if he had suffered some form of sickness all his days though he knew from his memories -sometimes from his dreams- once he'd been otherwise. Life had been different for him before everything had happened with his sickness.
Jesse. She had made him a handsome man.
Love had a way of making anyone look better when they were wearing it.
"Oh?" he asked, "What did you dream of then? Dreaming? Understand that. Sometimes good. Sometimes bad. Some nights very, very bad. Yours looks maybe a good dream?"
~*~
Capable smiled, “Thank you” she said accepting the compliment for what it was, “You wouldn’t say that if you saw me in the morning though, my hair is possibly the messiest thing you’ve ever seen” she teased him back.
While she hadn’t always looked so healthy being away from the compound had definitely helped her and being settled was bringing out her natural cheerfulness.
“Not so much good dreams as good people” Capable said, “You were in them and the woman who I live with, Furiosa, too. We were running away but I felt safe with you and her, even when things got hard” she revealed.
~*~
Making a sound of agreement, Max considered the woman's hair. It looked as if it could be wild. He remembered his Jess in a flash. She'd been a woman with wild hair and wild ways. Most hadn't thought her beautiful, but Max? Max had thought her the most wondrous of women. She'd made him handsome because she loved him the way he loved her. He imagined one day a man would come along who'd love Capable that way.
"Think the right man? Won't care too much how wild that hair is in the morning. He'll only be glad to be able to see it. Touch it. See you. That's the sort of thing worth looking for in life. Had it once. Miss it."
He nodded.
The waves rolled over the sand, wearing it down flatter and flatter. Max watched the people running along the shoreline. There was laughter in the air. It didn't make him smile as much as seeing the sand changing yet staying all the same. He was like the sand: changing yet always still there the same. Survivor. That was what Max was and he figured it was enough. He wished he could say his dreams were good ones for Capable.
"Dreamed of you too. Dream of a lot of things. Bad things. Dead world. Dead people. Failure. Surviving. Madness. That is in dreams as they come in---in my nights. Good? Max? Good in your dreams?"
He stumbled over the pronoun. It was hard to talk about himself. He wasn't worth the conversation more often than not.
~*~
It was true Capable’s hair was very wild anyway, but in the mornings it tended to be a mass of curls and craziness. It definitely took a while to tame it into something manageable. Right now Capable wasn’t really thinking about a man who would love her more than anything but the idea was a nice one.
“Maybe one day” she replied softly, for now she simply wanted friends and people she could trust.
People made Capable smile, those running and laughing, building sandcastles, dipping their feet into the ocean. All walks of people from all walks of life, they could all be seen at the beach. It was a nice quiet place with a happy aura most of the time, peaceful.
“The world is dead, most of the people are blind followers of greedy men but then there are the bright spots of hope. You, Furiosa, Angharad” she smiled, slipping an arm around his and leaning close, “You’re a good man, Max, I know you are. In the dreams and here. You have a kind brave spirit, you’re strong in a world where strength is taken from most.”
~*~
Touching was something Max was gradually becoming more accustomed to from those he knew. He was fine with the woman wrapping herself around his arm. She wasn't heavy and there wasn't anything---more in what she was doing. All she wanted was to touch him from what he could tell. Offer comfort. Touch was comfort to some. Not everyone had been trained to kill.
Max thought he could get used to smiling women touching him for comfort.
It was more he couldn't offer them.
Words were still hard for him. He tried to think of the world in the dreams. It was painful. He was even worse there than he was in California. Everyone was wrong in those dreams yet they were also right. Sometimes he thought his authentic self was the madman who would do anything to get a muzzle off his face. It felt more like him than memories of a loving wife who had died in front of him.
Had he ever deserved a loving wife?
Max didn't think so, not in this life, not in any other, no matter what his memories or his dreams might tell him.
"Try," he allowed, "Try to do right by people. Not always good at it. Sometimes? Too much a madman. Have to be strong though. Nothing else. Survival? It's all. In the Dreams. Here. Like it better here. On the beach. Watching the water. Knowing you're safe, smiling, happy. Better here."
~*~
Capable expected nothing more from the touch than to offer comfort, she found it the best and easiest way to do so. The holding of a hand or kind embrace could mean the world and Max was her friend so she wanted to offer him that. Thankful that she got the chance to.
The dream world was painful, in many ways but Capable took comfort in what she could. It had been something she taught herself to do in years at the compound and she was very good at it. Possibly one of the reasons why therapy was helping her, she had developed fairly healthy coping mechanisms.
“I agree with that” she nodded, looking out over the water, “Here is much better. Sitting with you and watching the world go by is nice. Thank you Max” she said squeezing his arm, “You are a good friend and I am glad I met you here as well as there”
~*~
Max made a sound of agreement. There was something nice about being able to spend time with someone who knew the dreams he dreamt yet didn't think him mad for them. He had never imagined anyone would understand his sickness no matter how many people on the network seemed to talk of strange dreams.
How many of them could dream as he did?
It didn't seem possible the number was too high. Max liked the thought there was nothing wrong with him in the eyes of a few. They saw him as he was: cracked yet not broken. Some days he felt broken because of how others looked at him. Those were the days he wouldn't even sit in the sand. Max chose to stay in his rig, keeping the big engines running to air the cab while he waited with his eyes closed for the rest of the world to fade away.
"Nice. You. This. Thank you. Take you for a ride next time. See the ocean in motion. Think you'd like it. Peaceful being on The Road. Deserve peace. You do."
He didn't.
Max Rockatansky wasn't the kind of man for whom peace would ever come.
His words were a promise as much as a statement. Max would take Capable out to see the world differently in his rig. She would like it. Something from his dreams told him as much. He wondered if he couldn't find her some goggles like those in his dreams. They'd protect her eyes so she could look outside with the windows down. Max preferred the natural air over the A/C as much as he could get it.
Things would be good for their friendship.
He had a feeling about it which didn't feel a part of the madness.