"Max...it's time."

Chloe stared hard, meaningfully through the driving rain at Max, the girl...no, the woman who had literally twisted reality like putty to keep her alive and safe, time and time again. She couldn't imagine even a fraction of the horrors that Max had endured, all that she suffered, putting her health and her sanity at constant risk, all for...

...for some...some punk who doesn't deserve her faith. Her loyalty or her...her...

"Chloe", Max cried out, voice on the verge of cracking. "I'm so, so sorry. I don't want to do this!" There was a look of defeat on her face, of helpless desperation. As if wishing, hoping Chloe might talk her out of it at the last minute.

Can't let that happen!

Chloe closed her eyes for a moment, willing herself to draw deep from wells of courage that she was pretty sure she didn't actually possess; but for Max, she'd fake it. She'd take a bullet for her, and from the sounds of the stories Max told over the past week, she already had, more than once.

This is a good thing. I'm blessed. How many people...how many, get a chance to say goodbye, to have one last shining moment in the sun, before they die? How many people get to understand the reasons why it has to end?

"I know Max, but we have to save everybody, okay?"

Arcadia Bay. How she hated the place! Had hated it, certainly. But no one - not a single damn one of those people - deserved what was headed their way. No one else deserved to die.

Well...

...maybe those assholes Nathan and Jefferson. But they'll get theirs. Max, my Max...she's gonna...

"And you'll make those fuckers pay for what they did to Rachel!"

She was still in shock, she'd barely found out, was still reeling from the blow. Chloe hadn't realized how much she loved Rachel Amber. Maybe she had her faults, but she'd been a shining star of comfort in the otherwise pathetic wreck of a life that'd become Chloe's teenage years.

If my death saves the town and ensures justice for her...then...then do it!

"Being together this week..." Chloe continued, her voice straining. "It was the best farewell gift I could have hoped for. You're my hero, Max."

The air hung heavy with expectation, as they silently stared at each other. And then the normally shy brunette surprised the absolute hell out of her. Reaching up, Cupping her face.

Kissing her.

There was such a purity in that moment, two hearts interconnected. Chloe kissed her back, surrendering fully to this moment in time, embracing her destiny, as her hands tentatively moved up to grip Max by the hips. In the span of that short, sweet kiss, she tried to live for a lifetime. By and large, she still wasn't sure exactly how she felt about Max, past the point of friendship. She wasn't an idiot though; she felt those electric sparks between them, the sweet frisson of desire, a palpable thing. But the confirmation of Rachel's death was still a fresh wound in her heart, and Max...

She's been through enough without any more emotional bullshit and baggage to contend with. It doesn't matter now. We have this moment in time that is ours. Forever. No one can ever take it away from us.

The real world, the normal flow of time, with its complications, and morning afters, and day after day after day rolling on; none of that existed for Chloe, not anymore. She was free...free to take a chance, before stepping off, into that good night. Exerunt, stage left.

"I'll always love you. Now get out of here, please. Do it before I freak!" her voice rose in tone, spiderweb cracks chipping away at her bravado.

"And Max Caulfield...don't you forget about me!"

Not that I ever have to doubt it. Not that I ever have to doubt you. You'll live for us both, Max. Thank you. I love you.

"Never." Max promised

And then it was time. Time to die. For real this time. No take backs , no rewinds, no clever tricks. There'd be no cavalry coming to the charge, no Super Max to save the day.

I hope you find peace Max. Please don't blame yourself. You have nothing, not a single fucking damn thing to feel guilty about! You've given me nothing but joy. You're an angel. Now...go fly!

Max turned away from her. Gripped the picture of the butterfly in her hands, the one Chloe relinquished back.

Chloe couldn't watch, but she couldn't look away either. She wondered what it would be like. Dying, that is. Being shot. Would it hurt much? Maybe the shock would overwhelm the pain. Would Max stay in the bathroom while it happened, or would she run out, as quick as she could, so as not to witness.

Would Chloe's father be there to greet her...wherever she ended up next?

The wind gusted in fresh, hard bursts, and Chloe struggled to keep warm, pulling her jacket tigheter around her.

At...at least I'll be warm when I'm about to die...yeah?

She gave a tiny, hoarse giggle at the thought.

Another gust of wind, and then something wholly unexpected occured

The picture flew out from Max's fingers, where it became easily captured by the raging currents of the storm, carried out to irretrievable oblivion from the edge of the cliff.

Just like that, her doom, her salvation. Gone.

It didn't register with either of them. Not immediately. Not for ten seconds, not for thirty. Nearly a full minute passed before either of them could act on what just transpired.

Max fell to her knees, sobbing inconsolably. Chloe rushed forward, wrapping her arms around her.

"Max. Max!"

Max hiccuped with hysterical sobs. "Oh! Oh God...oh Go-o-o-d! Chloe! I'm sorry. I'm so, so, so sorry! I...I lost..." Then she reached out as if somehow the picture might fly back into her hands. Like she was trying to rewind what just happened, and failing.

And wouldn't that be something? One last joke, one last kick in the dick from the Man Upstairs.

But there was nothing left but the two of them. And the storm.

They watched in anguished silence, huddling close against each other as the tornado tore through Arcadia Bay.


The night was long, and neither of them slept much as they clung together for warmth and comfort, hudled up in the back of Chloe's pickup truck. Taking refuge under the musty sleeping bag that Chloe stowed away for the occasional road trip.

Max shivered, crying and mewling all the while.

"I'm sorry...my fault, Chloe...my fault."

She stroked Max's hair, shsshed her. Held her close, kept her safe. Whispered reassurances.

"No...no it's not. I promise you, it's not. Shit...shit happens."

Still...what the fuck, Realty? You want me to die, then when I finally say yes, you jerk it away. What the literal fuck is wrong with you?!

"Chloe...can't...can't breathe...I can't breathe..!"

She rubbed the other girls back, reassuringly, keeping her voice as calm and soothing as possible. "Max. Just listen to me, Max. It's just...panic. Just a panic attack. That's all. I know exactly how you feel at the moment. Please, believe me!"

"I'm dying! Dying..." Max creeled, shuddering hard.

"You're not! You'renotyou'renot, oh God, I promise you. We're gonna be okay. I promise you. Just relax. Just keep focusing on...on..."

On what? Whatcha got to fix this situation with, Doctor Price?

"C-can't rewind. Powers...I think my powers are gone, Chloe!"

Chloe could work with that. "H-ha. Ha ha. Figures. Probably just as well. So...then you just focus on the future, Max. Or not. Or on this moment. Or just...whatever you need from me, Max. Whatever you need. I'm yours. I swear to you. I'm all yours."

Max leaned her head in, pressed against her chest, and inhaled hard. Her hyperventilating cadence slowly came under control. She looked up at her again, eyes still wide, searching...

Chloe felt Max's forehead nestle against each her own. Felt, more than heard her whisper out, "Thank you."

There were no more words for the rest of the night. They communicated only by touch. The occasional soft kisses and tender nuzzles. Lingering glances. Chloe certainly responded physically, to the weight of Max's body. Her warmth, and especially her scent. But it wasn't a sexual thing, either. There was nothing more - or less - than this incredible, intense intimacy, a timeless purgatory where the world existed for the two of them alone.

The winds continued to howl, through the storm was already receding. Max dropped off to slumber, and Chloe wasn't far behind her.

Her last sleepy thoughts melted through her brain, before dropping off.

No second acts in American lives. That what you said, Fitzgerald? Huh. Fuck you. Shows what you know. And who knows how long this act lasts. Can't help but feel like I'm a dead woman. But I'm still alive, too.

Her eyes finally closed, and she swore:

No regrets. No fears. No time wasted jumping at every shadow or loud noise. If you want me to live, World, then I will. If you want me to fucking die, then come and take me. But don't expect me to beg for mercy.


The morning was as still and bright as the night had been dark and cacophonous. The town was an absolute disaster area, like a giant toddle had run riot through the streets, aimlessly smashing utility poles, trucks, and...

"Oh...shit. Is that one of the whale carcases? On the motherfucking roof?!"

Max looked away, closing her eyes tight.

Still...it didn't look as bleak as Chloe initially imagined. There were various signs of life. A few buildings were tested in full by the storm and found worthy. Including and especially...

"Oh...God! The diner...Max!"

She pulled the truck over to the side of the road. Or, rather, whatever place looked best. There weren't much in the way of roads to speak of by this point.

Max glanced over at her, blinking blearily and asked. "We're stopping?"

"Uh, duh? Yeah! C'mon, Max?" She trotted around to the other side of the truck cab, opening the door, and holding out her hand nonchalantly.

Max took it, hesitantly. "Y-you really think...anyone's still alive?"

"No fucking clue." Chloe answered, her voice steeled with determination. "But we can't just drive away. We can't turn our backs on this place. If there's any chance even one person's alive and needs help."

Whoa there, Che. Where's this newfound sense of civic duty suddenly coming from? When'd you start caring about this shithole town?

Chloe narrowed her eyes. Forced herself to look at, really look at, and absorb all the devastation and destruction.

When? I'll tell you. When Arcadia Bay got turned into my blood sacrifice. Maybe I hated this place...maybe I still kinda do. But fuck if I'm going to turn my back on it now. Not when I owe it. Big.

The only thing that could take her away from the Bay now now was Max herself. Only if she just hoped that wouldn't happen, at least not for a while.

Max took her hand and nodded. Together they made their way to the diner. Carefully they opened the rear door, the one leading to the reinforced storage room. A soft, female groan, raspy with pain, called out.

"S-someone there? Please? Anyone? I c-cant...my legs..."

Chloe's heart frozen a beat.

"M-mom! Mom, I'm here!"

There was a pause, and then relief exploded into Joyce's voice. "Chloe? Oh...my baby girl! Oh God, oh God...I'm so...so happy you're safe. Please, be careful! It's a mess in here. Dangerous. Is Max with you?"

As her eyes adjusted to the darkness, Chloe could see just how bad it was. The structure itself was still sound, but the shelves, and their heavy loads had all tipped over. Chloe could barely make her Mom out now, the outline of her body, half buried under institutional sized cans of soup and peaches.

There was another groan; lower, male.

"Christ...Chloe. Max? You two bit..." Frank cut himself short, mindful of Joyce's presence in the room. "...kids out there. Ugh. Figured you were both dead. Shit...wish I was. Think I've...broken every fucking bone in my body. Least in my limbs. Fuck...huh...ha! B-but I'm not dead, yet. Grim Reaper ain't taking me...not today!"

Chloe hugged herself as she stared out. What was she supposed to do? What...what could she do?

Max murmured, pulling at her hair, unable to make herself look inside. "Chloe. We...we can't move them. I read somewhere, sometimes you can hurt people even more, if you do that."

Chloe nodded once, in return. "And we don't know how unstable all that shit inside is. We're gonna..." she called out. "Guys! We're gonna find help, okay? I promise! We're gonna get you some help. I mean...if nothing else, the National Guard's probably coming...right? Gotta be a few cops around and...I swear! I swear, we are bringing help!"

Chloe gently gripped Max's shoulders and murmured. "Right. Max? Can you stay here? Keep them company...and...just so they know someone's out there?"

Max turned white as a sheet, started to tremble. Swallowed hard, and whimpered. "Chloe...s-sorry. I can't. I can't, please don't leave me behind. Please? Not right now." The other girls hand became like a death grip on her own.

Oh Max. My poor...you've had to be so strong. Had to keep pushing yourself, over and over, breaking yourself inside, and just walking it off. You thought you were going to kill me, and now you blame yourself for not going through with it. And what happened afterwards...

None of this is your fault...

"All right." Chloe breathed out. She whispered low and said, "I've got this." She then raised her voice, calling into the store room. "Mom! Max and I we...we're gonna split up. We'll cover more ground that way. I promise you, I promise you, everything is going to be okay. We're gonna get help, and this nightmare...fucking nightmare's gonna be over."

"Please be careful, Chloe! We...we'll hold on."

"Speak for yourself...Christ, it hurts." Frank grunted.

Max flashed Chloe a humiliated, but grateful half-smile, as they walked away, intent on trying to find some aid.

"I suppose we could drive until we got a cell signal, if we had to. Fucking hate to leave Mom alone that long, but...but what if it's just the five of us alive, right now? Ugh, don't even want to consider it."

As fortune would have it, they didn't have to search longer than fifteen minutes before help came to them.

"Chloe!" a voice roared out, a mixture of triumph and relief.

She turned, peering over her shoulder to see who was calling out. Didn't even care who; maybe it was hella naive, but right now, any face she found was a friendly one.

David Madsen wasn't anyone she'd previously label as 'friendly' but right now, right this moment...

Her legs ran off ahead of her brain, which meant, of course, that the rest of her body lost the committee vote, and were now legally obligated to follow. Dashing over piles of rubble and debris, nearly tripping at one point, she skidded to a halt in front of him. Then paused, looking up at him, as he looked down at her, smiling.

Actually, fucking smiling.

Did she hug him? Or he her? Or did they do it together? It didn't matter.

Oh shit...oh shit, David. I am so...

"...glad to see you. You've no hella idea!" she said, finishing her thought.

"Chloe! Oh God, I'm so glad you're safe! You have no idea how much it was killing me, having to stay down in that bunker while the storm passed. But...but you were right. That psycho-sicko Jefferson was down there. Just like you said. Oh...Chloe. I'm so sorry. I should have...it's all..."

"It's okay, it's okay, seriously, it's okay." Chloe huffed out, on the verge of tears of relief. "We can have this talk later, okay? Can't, can't promise everything is going to be cool forever between us, but right now? You are seriously one of my favorite people in the world!. So glad I found you. It's Mom...she's hurt! She's alive but she's hurt, and a bunch of other people in the diner, and..."

That was when she glanced over his shoulder, at the assembled groups. Cops, mostly. A few she knew, mostly under unpleasant past circumstances.

Don't fucking care. Today, we're all on the same side.

Behind them, still in her outfit from last night's dance party, her mascara smeared, eyes wide with chilling fear and disbelief, was Victoria Chase.

Oh shit. Jefferson must have grabbed her when Max and I didn't fall for his trap. Fucking hella shit...poor Victoria. After what Max told me...

Max herself was already in action, moving towards her one-time rival. Her arms held out, encircling her. It was an embrace that Victoria was more than happy to receive, and to reciprocate. But it had the initial effect of prompting a complete breakdown in the pixie-cut blonde, burying her face against Max's shoulder and sobbing hysterically.

"Max! I'm sorry. You tried to warn me. I didn't want to believe it, not really. But I was so happy, when...when he told me I won..."

Max stroked her hair, and nodded. She bit down on her lip, closed her eyes tight, in obvious shared remembrance of her own time in the Dark Room.

"I was so scared! He was going to kill me, Max. I mean, he killed Rachel too, right? Right?! But...but then..." Victoria started to laugh, looping up from low to high on her emotional rollercoaster." That place, that fucking, shitty, terrible place. It saved us, Max! We'd be dead anywhere else, we'd be..."

Victoria trailed off. Looked around the ruins of Main Street, as if for the first time.

A low, keening wail of hopelessness escaped her throat, quickly becoming muffled against Max's shoulder. The blonde seemed to lose what little strength was holding her up, and she collapsed to the ground. Max slowly guided her down, doing her best to comfort her.

Chloe nodded once as Max gave her a knowing look.

She's got this. Max...probably having her own trouble not freaking out either. Couldn't handle the scene at Two Whales, but...she's got this.

Chloe regarded the assembled throng of lawmen and her step-father, and said. "Okay, this isn't me telling you guys how to do your jobs, because you fuck all know a damn more than me. But I'm begging you, please..." She actually put her hands together, clasping them in an exaggerated, pleading fashion. "I've got people hurt bad at the diner. Buried under metal and cans and...and there's medical supplies there, so that's good, right? Building itself is in okay shape, good central gathering point so...just...please, please help?"

David looked at the officers, who gazed back at him, then Chloe. Almost at once, they started to nod. This, they could understand. A problem they could attend to. It was much easier to think of Arcadia Bay that way right now; not as a singular, unified mass of hopeless devastation beyond all salvation, but merely a nigh-infinite bucket of problems that they could try and solve, one by one.

Wrapping a comradely arm around her shoulders, David said, "Chloe...you never have to ask for help. Never again. It's always yours, from now on. Now, let's go and save your mother."


The day never seemed to end, and yet nightfall came too quickly. Working with slow, careful precision, they dug the diner-goers out.

Joyce was in bad shape; she still couldn't feel her legs, and while Chloe could only assume the worst, she didn't have the luxury of becoming overly wrapped up in emotional responses.

Eyes forward, soldier. You've got a mission to...oh fuck, I can't believe I'm actually starting to think like this! Damnit, David! Can't even call you step-douche anymore. You don't deserve that from me.

And yet, Joyce came off the most fortunate of lot. Frank had multiple fractures in all four of his limbs; the saving grace was that neither his head nor the core of his body had taking much in the way of hits.

The same, unfortunately, could not be said of Warren.

The pronouncement from the EMT who'd managed to weather the storm and make his way into town was grim. "Pupils are dilated. Response...it isn't good. If we don't get him to a hospital soon, I just can't say whether he'll..."

Still, at least he had a chance. Unlike the poor fisherman who was dead.

Max took his death pretty hard for some reason when she finally found out. She curled up at what was left of one of the counters. Victoria, having managed to recover to some extent, tried to comfort her as best as she could, hugging her, holding her hand.

The light pang of jealousy that suddenly throbbed in Chloe's sternum failed to go unnoticed, even as she assured herself this was just completely platonic bonding.

Damn though, I need to do some more shit, or this is going to drive me nuts...

Chloe busied herself, looking for a task, any task, that she could take care of. Anything at all to keep her mind focused and distracted. Taking inventory of the food - and thankfully, there was plenty of it, the diner had recently re-stocked its shelves. Working with the cops to establish a temporary communications system via their CB radios. Going from house to house, trying to locate survivors, or at least take note of where the dead lay. Sometimes, she'd find a corpse, laying out in the middle of the road, and did her best not to think, simply shut her brain down, as she dragged them into whatever nearby shelter could protect them from the elements.

These poor people. They deserve to be identified, get a proper burial. Don't want to think about it, but the coyotes might start taking an interesting in all these bodies if we don't get them secured.

Chloe wasn't sure what was worse: the death toll, or the casualties. Not just the dead but the people who were injured. Suffering from wounds physical, or even simply mental. More people were alive than she initially bargained for, and she did her best to take comfort in that fact. Some were ecstatic to be found, to be sent off to the diner, which, as Chloe predicted, was becoming the central rally point for the survivors in town.

Others? Arcadia was a small rural town, and sometimes people just went strange. Hours passed, and Chloe still had trouble guessing whether someone was going to join together to aid the community, or if they'd just as likely level a shotgun on her, convinced that their fellow townspeople were looking for any excuse to fall back into their darker impulses. To start with the looting, with victimizing one another. Acting no better than fucking animals.

In struck Chloe as odd, this impromptu, real world education she was getting in how human behavior actually functioned. Her heart soared, if just a bit, the few times she came across others such as herself, walking around town. Working to combine resources, food and water and medicine. Checking up on people, letting other folks know that the worst had past. And there were definitely people who needed to be told. Nothing brings out the worst...or the best in others like a crisis.

That was the thing of it: it was like most people were just waiting for someone else to come along, and tell them everything was going to be fine before they could start to move ahead on their own. Give them that much, and they'd come out of whatever state of disbelief was anchoring them down and start to contribute. Others couldn't get past the fear and trauma so easily, that strange human helplessness, where all the available choices seem so terrifying that, on the surface at least, it seems safer to do nothing at all but just keep waiting.

"Well...I...I was safe. Safer. I didn't have to go through it." Chloe told herself, more than once.

No, you just had to stand there and watch, knowing your whole existence was the reason why. You're trying to save this town right now? That's a fucking laugh. You're the last person Arcadia Bay needs hanging around. Fuck, you should just pick up with Max and leave...like right now! Leave these people alone!

She closed her eyes tight for a minute, willing the growing storm in her mind to subside. Now wasn't the time.


It was nine PM before the first rescue crews finally crept into town. They were greeted by enthusiastic cheers. Blankets and cots were passed out. A makeshift tent city was pitched. Medical teams swept through, triaging the absolute worst of the injured, and calling in air rescue vehicles to helicopter them out to intensive care.

Warren, Frank, and Joyce were the first to be airlifted away.

It was almost midnight before Chloe found herself simply running out of steam. There was nothing left that she could immediately take care of, and God knew her bones just...ached.

Fuck, my soul aches right now...

She found herself sitting on one of the scratchy canvas cots, wrapped in an equally scratchy blanket, nursing a cup of - well, it wasn't coffee, but it was hot, and it was drinkable, and that was about all she needed out of life at the moment.

"Good job, by the way." one of the relief workers said, as he walked slowly towards her. Chloe didn't respond immediately. To be honest, she didn't even think he was addressing her at all.

"Mmm. Wha'? Sorry...you...you're talking to me?"

"Yeah. You're Chloe Price, right?" he asked.

She laughed once. "Guilty."

"People here are all telling me the same story. How you started looking for survivors, getting help. Sending people to one central location. You and a few others...that's all it takes, you know? A few people to be a catalyst, an example. Someone they can look to for guidance."

She snorted, taking a sip of her whatever the fuck was in the cup, and groused, "Make me sound like some kind of leader. I'm just...I just wanted to get help for my Mom, okay? And my friend...friends. And it just kinda..." she stared out, before continuing, her voice fading to almost nothing. "I had to do something to keep from thinking about it. The storm, and what happened and..."

The man nodded once, "Well...people lead by example. And in a crisis like this, most folks usually go in only one of two or three ways. They either get the hell out or they stay. And if they do stay, they either help people out, or they only think of themselves. All it takes is just a few people giving the right - or the wrong - example. Things snowball from there."

"Butterfly effect." Chloe breathed out.

"Pardon?"

"N-nothing. But...but thanks. Really. I'm so glad you guys came as fast as you did, but I have to find someone. See ya."

He waved. "Just keep doing what you're doing, Ms. Price. I know it's hard to believe now, but this town is going to pull through, as long as it has people like you. People who care."

She half-waved back, draining the dregs of - chicken noodle ramen, that's what the hell it was! And then went to track down Max.

People like me? People who care. Ha! Christ, that's a fucking dash of irony, isn't it? What a hella joke. Like I actually care about Arc-Hate-Ya...

She stopped short. Stood her ground, took in the scents, the sounds. The biting crispness of the early Autumn air. The crackle of various campfires, the soft, low hum of people talking, punctuated by the occasional cry. Beyond the small circle of light thrown up by the emergency spots, the rest of the town came across as dark, dangerous and uninviting, bereft as it was of light, heat, or water.

She was literally in the only stronghold of civilization for miles. This encampment - hers, because yes, she did suddenly have this crazy, almost possessive sense about it - was the only nucleus of hope left.

She started to pace, scrub her hands together nervously, like she could feel the weight of a million gazes pressing down upon her.

Fuck. This is on me. These people paid the price, so I could go on living. And who knows how long that's gonna last? All I know, there's still a bullseye on my back. A bullet, or a germ, or a train, or a knife with my name on it. So I guess I gotta do what I can, with what little time I may or may not have left. Gotta pay it back...gotta pay it...

She was so relieved then, when she managed to find Max, curled up on one of the cots. It felt like years had passed since she last saw her...her...

...my what? Where do we go now, Max? What happens to us? I mean, it's probably too soon to talk about You plus Me. But, I can't just pretend like we didn't kiss. More to the point, you kissed me. And I kissed you back. Probably not fair, 'cause you thought I was gonna die, and you'd never see me again. Still, it's you acting from the heart, right?

All the same, she didn't want to rush it. She didn't feel like the middle of a disaster area was the appropriate place to sit down and hash out the deep vagaries of her precious fee-fees vis a vis the toothsome Miss Max Caulfield. At the same time, she closed her eyes, and remembered the previous night.

I can't get it out of my system, Max. We were so...all we needed was each other. I want to feel that again, with you. Please...I just don't want to let a good thing slip away.

She pushed her cot next to Max's, laid out upon it, pulled up a blanket, before reaching out, stroking Max's tousled bangs, brushing them away from her eyes. She held her breath for a few seconds studying the contours of the brunette's face, the curvature of her lips.

Oh God...you are hella gorgeous, Max.

The other girl gave a whimper, and then a startled cry, curling up further into a fetal ball. "What? Wh-who!?"

"Shhh...shh. S'okay. It's me Max. Just Chloe. Hi." she whispered out soothingly.

Max nodded, giving a pained, embarrassed smile. She shivered, until Chloe put a tentative arm around her.

"This...I mean, it's okay?"

Max relaxed visibly, and whispered back. "Yeah. It's good, Che. Really good."

Chloe laughed once. "Okay...well...good." She groaned and then continued. "So, I mean, just tell me if I'm doing anything that's making you uncomfortable, okay? I know our situation's...um...situation-y."

Max half-giggled, giving another shiver and snuggling close for warmth. "Really know how to turn a phrase."

"Yeah well, I'm just...this is really new territory, isn't it. For us? And it's not like we're in the best place right now to sit down and seriously contemplate the dynamics of our relationship. I mean, this is like living in some sort of fucked up postscript to a book. The climax came and went, the words stopped, the cover's closed. But all the characters are still inside, trying to live life and get through shit, after the world that they all knew completely ended. After...the readers already forgotten about them." She shook her head, experimentally nuzzling Max. Pleased to see her weakly returning the gesture of affection.

They laid close together for a few minutes, before Max whispered. "Chloe?"

"Yeah-huh?" Chloe answered sleepily.

"I...I need to get out of town, tomorrow. Just...I mean far enough to get a cell signal. My parents are probably going crazy right now, with worry."

"I'm sure the Red Cross or whatever people could get you a working satellite phone. No need to drive out all the way..."

"No!" Max covered her mouth, shocked at the volume of her frantic, fearful tone. "No...I mean. Oh God, Chloe...I can't stay in this town. Not right now. It's killing me. Every time I see...someone. Because..." Her lower lip trembled, as she fought to keep herself together. "They begged me, Chloe. In my dreams. Everyone begged me to save them! And I fucked it up. I fucked it up, and I can't stand it."

She reached up, grabbing at her head. "I can still hear them, Chloe. They're still begging me to save them, whenever I manage to fall asleep." With a pained grimace, she concluded, "I'm sorry, but I'm not strong enough right now. I need to get away from it. Just for a few hours. I can't be in the thick of it here, and stay sane."

Oh, God. Max. You've had to keep pushing, and giving, and surviving. You've been forced to be so strong, for so long. Please...let me...

Chloe didn't miss a beat. "Fine. Yeah, that's good. Hell, we can leave now. Let's jump in the truck and hit the road."

Max shook her head. "N-no. Chloe...maybe I've spent more time today curled up in the corner and freaking out than I should've, but I see what's going on. You started this. You started all of it. Got people together, gave people just a little glimmer of hope, a little piece of order and stability."

"Oh Jesus, please. First off, it wasn't just me, not all alone, not singlehanded. There were other people around, decent people. Folks who have an idea of how to get through this kind of shit. Christ, you make me sound like...I know what the fuck I'm actually doing." Chloe snorted, glancing off to the side.

"Bullshit." Max rasped out. "You've gotten so good at lying about yourself, about not giving a damn, you've bought into your own hype. People need to see you here right now. If you run off, doesn't matter why, I think...people'll notice, Chloe. I can't say it makes sense, or it's fair, but people need to see that you're here. That you're surviving."

She curled up closer, and swallowed hard, "I've taken so much away from all of these people, Chloe! I can't...won't fuck them over any further. I swear, I'll be back. Just gotta...gotta call my folks. Get out of this town, just...a few...hours..."

"S'okay, Maxeroni. You gotta...gotta take care of you. Whatever you do, whatever you want, wherever you go. I'm as much or as little a part of it as you need. I mean..." Chloe started to laugh quietly. "After all the times you saved it, y-you do kinda own my ass now."

Max laughed against her chest, as the trembling subsided. "Ha..ha...yeah. I...I do...ha ha."

Chloe sighed, as sleep sucked Max down into its inviting warmth anew. She tilted her head up, glancing at the pure white stars, gleaming and crystal-pure, framed by the light of the moon. A mocking counterpoint to the clouds that obscured everything barely twenty-four hours earlier.

She cradled Max protectively; possessively. Part of her couldn't help but be afraid that what gossamer-thin bond that was growing between them threatened to snap if she let Max head off without her. Like the other girl might keep driving off towards the horizon, and never come back with her.

At the same time, she also feared that if she forced the issue, came along, whether Max wanted it or not, it also threatened to put a strain on the new dimension that their relationship was taking.

Not to mention that...

...fuck, Max! Are you serious? Do you really have a point? Does this fucking town, this shitburg that hated me the way I hated it actually care whether I stick around and help or not? Like it's somehow not going to recover if I don't stay? I mean, c'mon. No one has that much power. No one's a lynchpin like that...

She looked over at Max, and rolled her eyes with considerable exaggeration. Considered the events of the past week.

Ooookay. Point retracted.

Well, if it was true that Chloe suddenly had a cross to bear, she was willing to bear it.

But...but not because I care about this place or something. Only because...because it's what I owe. Pound of flesh and everything. And it's what Max wants. Yeah, you hear that, Arcadia Bay? Don't think we're getting too chummy. This is mostly about doing it for her.

She let out a hard sigh, continued staring up at the sky for a while longer, wishing she'd fall asleep herself already. Crazy as today was, tomorrow was probably going to be worse.

Hell of a way to start the fucking weekend.


A/N:Hey guys...

So this was intended to be a one shot, but I've been coming up with so many ideas, I'm turning it into a short series. Like probably three to five chapters, taking our heroines out several decades into the future. I'm in that weird burning desire phase where I want to write and publish as quickly as possible, but I know that always impacts the quality...so it's a weird balancing act. Anyhow, it won't slow anything down with Black Swan, one way or the other.

Anyhow, not much to say, we all are dealing with the end of Life is Strange in our own ways *heh* Hope you enjoy this, please comment if you do.

BTW? Holy shit, but LiS ep5 really got the community reading! I'm sure other writers had a similar spike, but yesterday was probably a historical best in terms of views for me. You guys are all awesome!