* 3 hours after the Storm *

I killed them. I killed them all. I chose not to save them.

That thought keeps rolling over and over in her mind. Unlike the past week there was no time travel involved. The repetition isn't from a moment she controlled. It is a thought with it's own powers.

Everyone is dead and I could save them.

It starts in the truck. Chloe drove through the Bay, or what was left of it. The smile on her friend's face, not really a smile, a smirk. It's easy to read on Chloe, for her at least. Yeah, I understand. Yeah, it sucks. But you're okay.

But that little smirk sets her off. First, she feels okay. Then she feels horrible for feeling okay. And then the horrible become atrocious. Why should she feel okay? Nothing is. So many people wouldn't feel okay. So many people wouldn't feel happy or sad or even horrible again. And the thought whispers into her head, as light as butterfly wings.

I killed them. I killed them all. I chose not to save them. I let them die for me. I'm selfish. I'm evil. I killed them all.

Within a few minutes of that smirk Chloe has to pull over to let her throw up. The trembling makes it impossible to stand, instead she elects to just open the door and spill out onto the pavement, followed soon by her stomach. That finishes, but her body isn't done, trying to heave the rest of her insides outward. An eternity later her muscles grow too tired to do anything more, so instead she sobs. The hand on her back is all that keeps her grounded to the here, the now. The small circle it traces is warm, and soft. As the sobs turn to tears, as the tremors subsided, she hears a low mantra contrasting the one in her head.

'You're safe, I'm safe, I'm here. I'm not leaving. We're together forever. Shh, we're safe. I'm never leaving...'

I killed them all. I could have saved them. I let them die.

'Come back to me. I'm here. Come back to me. I'm here and I'll wait but I need you to come back to me again...'

I killed... Wait. I.. I chose Chloe. Not just me. I saved Chloe. I saved Chloe. I killed... But I saved her. I can save more.

The road is quite but for the two of them. With a sharp eye you can see the "Welcome to Arcadia Bay" sign down the road. A bit further are the indistinct blobs of houses. Or were houses. Without realizing it, her head has migrated to Chloe's lap, the only part of her that isn't tightly wrapping itself into a ball. For the first time in many minutes, she opens her eyes and stares up at her best friend.

'wowzers...'

The smirk, a bit more pained but also more understanding, comes back to Chloe's mouth. 'Yeah. Thought I lost you there for a moment. You, eh. You had me worried.'

'Sorry, Chlo. It just... hit me. All at once. I let all those people-'

'No. Full stop.' Hands now gripping the sides of her head, Chloe's gaze is no less intent for being mostly upside down. 'You didn't do anything to these people. You didn't send the storm.' Chloe's tears run off her own nose and cheeks, tracing similar paths as they fall on her face. 'Everything you did was for me. And I-'

Anger flared, adding a bit more edge to her voice than she intended. 'No, you stop now, Chloe. I did choose you. I'll keep choosing you. But I need to own it. I am guilty of that, of... of picking you. I need to own that.'

'Fuck that. None of this is your fault.'

'But it's my responsibility.'

Chloe rocks back a bit, the implication widening her eyes. The impact of that thought gives Chloe pause. Responsibility. Something Chloe never really paid attention to before. It was always the fault of someone else. Her friends for ditching. Her father for leaving, for- for dying. Her mother for loving someone else more than she loved her daughter. Her teachers failed her. Her parents failed her. Rachel failed her-

No. Rachel didn't fail her. Rachel died. Dad died. She made life hell for her mom and stepdou- David. She failed her classes. She hurt the people around her, friends and enemies the same. She, Chloe, made all the decisions that led her to blackmailing a boy in the school bathroom. Yeah, her life was rough. But she didn't have to make it rougher for herself. She could have stopped any time. She still can.

Time to stop being that Chloe and time to be amazeballs.

'Our responsibility.'

The confusion is obvious. 'Wha... What are you talking about, Chlo?'

'Our responsibility. If you want to take all the blame, too bad. You saved me. Both of us were on that cliff today. You may have decided to save me but I'm the one who didn't... die.' A deep breath. 'If you want to take the whole world on your shoulders, well, move over Max-las. I told you we're together forever.'

* 3 hours after the Funeral *

How can it hurt so much? I saved the town. I saved everyone. Kate, Joyce, Warren. Even Victoria. Only Chl-

Another wave of sobs shook her. She'd already been to the toilet twice since leaving Joyce and David at the cemetery. Kate tried to get her to talk, but Max slammed her dorm door behind her. No one understands. No one can realize that she has to grieve all over again. Auto-Max got to cry her eyes out, but not her. Not Real-Max, Prime-Max, whatever she calls herself. So Max lays in bed, wrapping her arms so tightly around her knees it hurt.

Eventually the sky dims and the tears stop. Sleep comes, the tired sleep that luckily has no dreams. But a tentative knock rouses her, startling, and the following, more forceful thump-thump-thump sends her upright in bed.

What time..? Twenty to midnight? Who the hell is outside?

A high-pitch voice, a bit raw itself, answers Max's thoughts. 'It's me, Max. We... I... eh, I don't know how to do this but I want to talk.'

The anger immediately rises, Max not caring as it drips from her lips. 'What, Victoria? What do you want? Here to bitch about your killer ex-boyfriend? Oh no, is the world NOT REVOLVING AROUND VICTORIA CHASE?' It feels good, venting. Exhausted in more ways than one, lashing out at Victoria just... feels right.

The slight shuffle in the silent whine of her outburst is the only indication Victoria is still there.

'Just listen.' Another beat. 'Please.'

'Why?'

Whether it's the door or the emotional weight, Victoria's next words are barely discernible. 'because i understand.'

The bubble of anger pops, forcing Max to try and rip the door from it's hinges. 'HOW? HOW CAN YOU UNDERSTAND? DID YOU LOSE SOMEONE YOU LOVE? DID YOU LOSE YOUR OTHER HALF?'

Standing there is an oversized t-shirt and pajama pants, Victoria doesn't look like the queen bee. She's been crying. A look is on her face, familiar to everyone but utterly alien on the taller girl. Sad, but concerned? Not so pretty without her makeup.

'Yes. I did.'

'Wh-what?'

'I lost Na... him as much as you lost- your friend. I lost my brother. I lost someone who was the closest person in the world to the same person you lost to.' Victoria inhales, gaining a bit of her confidence but, surprisingly, still unable to look Max in the eye. 'I lost the one person I love most in this world when he pulled that trigger. I've been trying all week to find the words to say- to even think I have the right to say something to you. When... he did what he did, he chose to... do something horrible, something you don't get to take back. Just... five minutes and I'll leave.'

They step inside, and Max closes the door.

'N... Nathan was my best friend. Not like Courtney or Taylor. I, ah, I trusted him. Like, fully.' Victoria sits on the couch, idly stroking the neck of the guitar standing nearby. Unwilling to give an inch, Max leans against her door, arms crossed. Victoria still won't look at her as she talks. Or maybe she can't.

'I don't know when he stopped being the person I knew. Yeah, he started getting angry the last few years. Over stupid shit but, you know, I just thought hormones or some other shit.' Finally, she looks in Max's direction, and the tears that started at the door were only more present now. 'I saw him getting violent the last few months. I thought I could... do something. Help him. His father wouldn't. Just threw money at him.' The pain hardens, no longer directionless. 'And that, that pig. That evil shit-stain on life. He finished Nathan off. He showed Nathan how to be that monster. To hide it so well. I worshiped him. I woulda done anything for him...'

Victoria trails off, giving Max a moment to process everything. The flair of hate at even the reference of her former photography teacher and, to be honest, idol. And, as difficult as it is to process the whirlwind of emotions, it was different from what she had just been feeling. It isn't any more or less than the pain of- but it was different. And that, by itself, helps to break the numbness that had crept through Max's mind. The haze of pain breaks, and she sits by Victoria, one of her hands in both of Max's.

'He hurt both of us. Badly. I... I don't know how to go on.'

'I was next.' Abrupt as always, Victoria half laughs, half sobs. 'The police still has most of the details locked up but I know that much. My name was on the next binder.' Again she breaks. 'And I went to Kate. I apologized to her, and she looked me right in the eye and smiled. Said she forgave me. And without a beat she said the police contacted her. Her name was on one of those binders. The night of that damn video, she was drugged and Jeff- he used her. And she acted fine. I've been worried about you but Katie, there's something really wrong and I don't know how to help her.' Again, the half and half sound. 'Hell, I don't know how to help you. But I want to.'

An arm around Victoria's shoulders says much, both from Max to Victoria as well as about how far they've both come. Max has a moment, holding the taller girl. One of those moments that don't feel particularly weighty at the time, but one that ends up changing many small events. A butterfly event. But this little fluttering of wings helps Max start to shift her world view. She didn't save the whole town by herself. She had help, from friends and loved ones. The guilt is still there, and something else, darker, that she can't quite name. But this kindness from an unlikely source (Not that unlikely. Other Victoria was like this too, at the end) is a salve she needs. The edge of hope around the picture.

'Well, you don't have to save us all on your own. No one can hold up the world by themselves. You can't, I can't. We just have to hold up the world together.'

This time a chuckle, with no follow up sniffle or shudder, cues that Victoria needs to speak. 'You know, I always envied you. But only because I admired how you didn't care. Or, instead, you didn't let other people control you. You didn't ever seem to care what other people thought about you.' Breath out, breath in. 'So, Atlas, how do we hold up the world?'

The first real smile of her present traces Max's face. 'I still don't know the actual how. But we do what Chloe would do. We tell the world how it is and give it a hella hard time if it says anything about it.'

Hello and thanks for reading the first chapter of the first fanfiction I've ever attempted. I have written a bunch of short stories over the years but this will be the first I've ever published in an open forum. A few reasons for that. First, like most of the people I love my subject matter and I want to try and add to the story any way I can. If one person enjoys this, that's enough for me.

Second, I love both endings of the game and wanted to present a bit of a different take from the 'usual' LiS fanfic. Because of the dual endings of the game I wanted to write one story that tackles both of them and tells one story. This is going to be a series of events from both worlds we create with our decisions in game and explores the differences between the same persons (mostly Max) after a pivotal point of their lives. There is definitely going to be overall themes for each chapter but I really hope to explore the differences context can make in a person's reaction.

Third, and last, I'm writing in a different style than usual. It's a bit of a challenge I've wanted to attempt for a while. I'm trying to keep everything being portrayed in the present tense, to give the idea it's all happening as you read it. It makes it feel truer (to me) to the original media that's inspiring it, a video game. You experience the game as events happen; someone tells you something, not told you something. If that makes sense we're on the same page.

Final warning, though: I enjoy tragic endings. While I can promise some happiness, I am going to run these characters through emotional wringers. I'm not going to impulsively kill off people for the hell of it; like I said, I hope I'm good enough with presenting the context to let you accept the angst I'm putting the characters through.