The winds had been howling as the hurricane tornado storm thing had slowly plowed through the water towards the town of Arcadia Bay. When debris started to get pulled up by the vortex, Max just couldn't watch anymore. Squeezing Chloe's hand as tight as she could, she turned and hid her face in the crook of the taller girl's neck.

The rain was cold, and the wind sure didn't help. Both girls were pretty much drenched, and Max started to shiver, even as Chloe's free arm came up to hold her close. Distraught and desperate for warmth, she pressed herself up against Chloe. As tears rolled down Max's cheeks and got lost in the rainwater and the fabric of Chloe's top, Max just wanted to kiss her. Did she? Yeah, she wanted to kiss Chloe. The wind was shrieking, she may have just condemned an entire town to death, but somehow she wanted to put a move on her best friend?

No. People were dying down there. Because of her, she thought, and no matter how badly she wanted to kiss Chloe and just let her mind go blank, she wasn't going to let herself ignore this. She couldn't bring herself to look, but dammit, she wasn't going to try and make this some kind of romantic moment. Plus, that wouldn't be fair to Chloe. Her friends were probably dying. Her mom was probably dying. Whatever jokes she'd been making a few days ago, Max doubted she would be in the mood for making out.

The rest of the morning was a blur to her. Max just alternated between keeping her eyes on the ground and sobbing into Chloe's shoulder, but somehow the taller girl got them both safely down the hill. There were some trees down in the parking lot by the boardwalk, but Chloe's truck had made it out pretty much unscathed.

She was still in a daze, but Max managed to climb up into the cab and slumped into the seat. Her bag was in there, and it looked like Chloe had packed a few things, too. Max didn't really remember what all had happened between the point in time she'd gone back and convinced Chloe not to go after Nathan and the time she'd come to again on the boardwalk.

With the wipers going, Chloe pulled them out of the lot and started to inch down the road. They couldn't really see very far in the storm, and with all the trees and debris coming down, it was slow going. Max wasn't sure how much time had gone by, but eventually the rain started to clear, and the sun came out.

With greater visibility, they could drive a little faster, but they could also see how wrecked Arcadia Bay was. If she'd been willing to take a moment to think about it, Max thought she could probably figure out where in town they were, but she still didn't want to really think too hard about, well, anything. Mostly, she just stared into space out the window. A lot of houses had tree branches and stray rubble sticking out of them, and here and there she spotted a dead body before quickly glancing away. There were some deer walking around in the wreckage though. It would have been almost beautiful, like those photosets of ruined buildings she liked looking through, if it she hadn't been convinced that she was responsible for all the destruction.

As they started to get to the edge of town, Max was vaguely aware of Chloe's hand on her shoulder, rubbing gently. With what felt like monumental effort, Max turned her head to look at the taller girl, whose eyebrows were furrowed in concern. It felt nice, she thought, having Chloe touching her. Despite herself, she found it pretty calming, at least until the guilt set back in. Still, she wouldn't trade Chloe's presence for the world. Definitely not for the town, it had turned out.

They didn't talk much as they drove, but Max was okay with that. What would they talk about? "Hey, it was a real heroic thing you did back there, volunteering to sacrifice yourself for the town. Too bad I have a crush on you, so it looks like everyone you know might be dead now." "Would it be weird to try and make out with you while your mom is trapped in rubble?" "So, Nathan might be dead. Is it bad I'm relieved?" None if it was really stuff she wanted to deal with right then. The storm. Nathan and Mr. Jefferson. Chloe.

God, Chloe. If things had been different, she'd have the mental bandwidth to process how she was feeling about her best friend. Then again, if things had been different, maybe she wouldn't even be feeling like this. What was this, anyway? Wanting to kiss and cuddle a girl wasn't a new feeling for Max, but she'd never really acted on it before Chloe had dared Max to kiss her. Chloe definitely seemed like she was into girls, at least some of the time, so maybe she'd be okay with fooling around? Maybe not, though, considering the whole "death and destruction" thing, though.

But it was more than wanting to make out and maybe touch some boobs besides her own, though. She and Chloe were close. They'd always been close. If anyone asked, Max would freely admit she loved Chloe. But was she in love with her? It was hard for her to tell the difference between "I care about my best friend, who also happens to be gorgeous" and "I am in love with this girl." She wasn't sure if she'd ever really been "in love." Shy as she was, stuff like relationships and deep emotional connections weren't really her strong suit.

Chloe just kept driving around, but Max was pretty sure she didn't have a destination in mind. Just "away." Were they running away together? It sure looked like it. Then again, it was probably better than staying in the ruins of Arcadia Bay, Max admitted to herself. They drove through a fast food place at some point, and Max half-heartedly munched on some french fries, but she still felt like she was in shock.

As the sun went down, Chloe pulled them into the parking lot of a cheap looking motel and climbed out of the truck. Max just sat in her seat, though, until Chloe came around to her side and opened the door.

"Max," the blue haired girl said quietly, reaching up to take Max's face in both her hands and turn it so that she could look into the brunette's eyes, "It's getting dark, and today has just been…" She trailed off, eyes welling up a little, before blinking a few times and continuing. "I just can't drive anymore. Not tonight. Come on. I'll get us a room, and we can crash for the night."

Max's mind felt hazy, split between enjoying the sensation of Chloe's hands on her face and still just dwelling on all the chaos, and all the death and destruction she'd seen in the other timeline. Still, she managed to pull herself up out of her seat and climb down to the asphalt. Chloe let go of her and reached into the cab to pull out their bags, closing the door behind her and walking towards a door labeled "office." Max followed, then stood quietly by the door as Chloe handed the attendant a wad of cash in exchange for a key.

Their room was small and smelled just a little weird, but Max couldn't really be bothered to care too much about any of that. Stepping out into the night air and then back inside had made her realize that her clothes were still kind of damp. Chloe had set Max's bag on the bed further from the door before she'd gone to shut herself in the bathroom, and Max trudged over to see what all she had thought to bring when she wasn't herself. Or maybe she had been, and she just didn't remember any of it. She had no idea what she was doing, or how any of this worked, and she couldn't really commit to figuring any of it out just then.

Her camera was stowed safely in the little messenger bag, at least, along with a charger for her phone. Maybe she'd been preparing to stay at Chloe's for a day or two, or maybe she'd understood on some level that they might end up skipping town. Whichever it was, she'd apparently thought to pack a change of clothes and a few toiletries. It was a small thing, but she was glad she had something dry to wear that night and the next day. She hurriedly peeled her wet clothes off, fishing her phone and wallet out of the pockets, and pulled on the fresh T-shirt and panties. Feeling a little more comfortable, physically at least, she started to hang up her wet clothes in the little closet to dry.

"That looks like a good idea," Chloe remarked, stepping out of the bathroom and wiping her face, "Mind if I hang up my clothes too? After I, uh, go out for a smoke?" Max shook her head, turning to face Chloe. The blue haired girl looked as if she'd been crying again, and Max couldn't blame her. She was getting ready to break down, herself. Chloe looked like she was going to say something more for a moment, then closed her mouth and hurried out of the room.

Max stepped into the bathroom, used the toilet, then washed her hands, splashing a bit of water on her face. Peering into the mirror, she almost didn't recognize herself. She looked pale and half dead. Her eyes were puffy from crying on and off all day, and her hair was disheveled. It didn't matter, though, she thought. It wasn't like Chloe probably cared too much how she looked.

She climbed into bed, leaving the light on for when Chloe came back in. After a few more minutes, Chloe stepped into the room and shut the door behind her, the smell of cigarette smoke following in her wake. Normally, Max wasn't too happy with that smell, but right then it seemed comfortingly familiar, a reminder that Chloe was alive and with her.

Stepping over to the closet where Max had hung her clothes, Chloe started to undress as well. She didn't change into fresh clothes, though, and Max quickly looked away when she realized Chloe was about to be walking around naked. She'd seen Chloe naked before, of course, but with everything that was happening, feeling the usual little "hey there" glow would just make her feel guilty.

"Max?" Chloe asked as Max heard her click the light off and get into bed.

"Hm?"

"Thanks for choosing me," Chloe mumbled, pulling the covers up over herself just as Max turned to her, "I mean, I know that was a crazy choice you had to make, and I was ready to die and everything, but… Thanks for letting me keep on living." With that, she turned off the lamp by her bed, leaving the room in darkness.

Max heard Chloe crying quietly, though, and as her eyes adjusted to the darkness she could see the taller girl shaking a little in her bed. Not that Max wasn't crying too, though. Chloe had seemed drained, and was snoring quietly within a few minutes, but for Max, the day felt even longer. She'd been in Jefferson's Dark Room, then in San Francisco, then in Jefferson's Dark Room again, then outside the Vortex Club party, and then on the beach, and at no point in all that did she remember sleeping, at least without being drugged, anyway.

She lay awake for a long time, staring up at the ceiling. Had that really happened? Was she still in the nightmare? Had she really friggin' destroyed Arcadia Bay? Was she… in love with Chloe? Was everything going to go all to shit in the morning? Had she made the right choice? Quiet tears rolled down her cheeks as her mind raced.

Rolling onto her side, Max wiped her eyes and looked across the little room. There, lying in the other bed, just a few feet away, just out of arm's reach, Max could see Chloe, the pale skin of her face, neck, and arms standing out against the darkness. She fretted a little in her sleep, but her chest rose and fell under the covers in a slow, steady rhythm. She didn't look peaceful, exactly. Not at all. But she was alive. She was safe. Had Max made the right choice?

"Yes," she whispered to herself, gazing across the gap at the person she was closest with in the whole world, "Yes."