*Warning, This story contains triggers concerning rape, self-harm, addiction, and suicide. If you are suffering from depression or thoughts of suicide or self-harm please seek professional help.*

Max looked at Chloe in the truck as they left Arcadia Bay. She couldn't believe how much damage the storm had done, how many people were now gone from her life, but at least Chloe was finally safe. They had been driving for hours before someone finally spoke.

"Man, that storm was scary. For a second, I thought you were going to go back." Chloe remarked, a hint of relief in her voice. Max was a bit surprised, she thought that she would be sad. After all, she just lost her mother and stepfather. Then Max remembered, Chloe didn't think of David the same was Max did, he never saved her or Chloe, he just seemed like a huge douchebag.

"Chloe, I have to tell you some things." Max wasn't sure she was ready to remind Chloe of all that she lost.

"Wait, I don't want to think about anything right now." Chloe stated, avoiding any feelings she may be having.

"Are you sure? Maybe we should..." Max's sentence was interrupted by Chloe's screams. She looked out the windshield just as the car crashed into them.

Clay stared at his ceiling. He was in huge trouble for skipping school, but he didn't really care. He enjoyed his time away and for the first time since Hannah died, he felt like things would be okay. Of course now he had heard about Alex and his mother dropped the bomb that he would be going back to counseling because of his recent behavior. So, naturally, he did what any rebellious teen would do and went straight to his room and slammed the door. Fuck his mom's 'no closed doors' was a teenager and that door would be closed if he wanted it to be.

He punched a pillow for about five minutes before realizing how useless it was. He had flopped down on the bed in anger, and now all he could do is stare at the ceiling, feeling time tick by and he had nothing to do, nowhere to be, and no one to see. How pointless it all seemed. He lost track of how long he had been laying there, but in the time he had been there, his mom opened his door, talked at him about the importance of counseling after a tragedy and then leaving because he refused to talk to her, had his dad come in to try and talk, and managed to count 352 little specks of whatever was on his ceiling.

He didn't feel any need to get up, even though he could hear his mom talking to his dad about her worry about him and the sizzle of whatever Dad was cooking for dinner. They barely talked anymore and when they did, it was usually about how to handle him and the stupid court case. It was only stupid in Clay's mind because the school was guilty, even if his mom would argue otherwise. He knew it, as did eleven other people.

He sighed, and slowly lifted himself up. He ran down the stairs and out the door, briefly calling out that he was going out and ignoring whatever his parents said. He grabbed his bike and just started riding, anywhere away from his house. He stopped just in time to see the ambulance pass at a rapid rate. His heart started to pound, it couldn't be. Another suicide maybe? Or worse. He sped after it, hoping to catch a glimpse of who was in there and what had happened.

Max could barely open her eyes. All she could hear was muffled voices and that high pitched sound movie editors think is a good idea when a character blacks out. Man that noise sucked. She tried lifting her head only to find it was impossible.

"You need to stay still ma'am," a voice cautioned her. Max gave up with lifting her head and tried talking, maybe to ask a question.

"Chloe," was all Max could manage. The voice didn't respond so Max started to panic. Once again she tried to raise her head, this time she managed to get her upper body somewhat up from where she was laying, but a hand forced her down.

"You need to keep still, ma'am. You may have head trauma," the voice cautioned again. This time, Max asked a bit louder.

"Chloe?"

"Your friend is in another vehicle. Hold still we are almost to the hospital," the voice reassured her. Chloe was okay, as far as Max knew. Yet she couldn't help this feeling that something was wrong. She tried to get her eyes to focus and make out some of the fuzz that she saw. She managed to make out the details of a woman, a bag of some liquid, and a long tube. She tried to connect the dots, it took her a long time to realize that she was in an ambulance.

"Chloe..." was all she could manage to say, but she wanted to ask where she was, was she okay, and what about the other car? Did they survive? Were they okay? They seemingly came out of no where.

"Maxine? I need you to concentrate. Do you know where you are?" the voice, belonging to the woman by her, asked.

"Ambulance."

"Yes, do you know what your full name is?" The woman was holding something in her hand. Max squinted, trying to make out what it was. Her vision was slowly clearing, but all she could make out was the woman was holding some sort of card.

"Maxine Caulfield."

"Maxine, how old are you?"

"18"

"Maxine, do you know what year it is?"

"It's... um..."

"Okay Maxine, we are taking you into the hospital now, you're going to feel a lift," the woman said. Max closed her eyes and imagined seeing Chloe again.

Clay didn't recognize who was in the ambulance, just a girl. She had short, brown hair. It reminded him of Hannah's. He didn't stick around to find out what happened, but another ambulance followed and he ruled out a suicide. He decided to bike home, whatever happened he was sure his parents were worried.

Once he got home, his parents practically tackled him.

"Um okay? I wasn't gone for that long," he sassed.

"We thought you might have been in the accident." his mom remarked.

"No, what accident?" he asked. Maybe they had heard what happened.

"A truck was coming in from out of town and collided with Sheri's car." his dad answered. He didn't look at Clay, which wasn't good news.

"Was anyone hurt?" he asked. He worried, Sheri had been a mess since Clay confronted her about visiting Jeff's family.

"There was only one survivor," his mom said silently. Clay was frozen. It had to be Sheri, this other person couldn't be the one to walk away.

"What do you mean? It was Sheri right? She'll be okay?" Clay rapidly fired his questions, raising his voice louder and louder with each, denying the truth that his mother subtly presented him.

"Honey we don't know all the details..." his mother confessed.

He ran. He didn't even bother with his bike, he just wanted to get away. From what he wasn't sure. First Jeff, then Hannah, Alex, and now Sheri. He couldn't take it anymore. How many more would die? What was happening to this town?

Somehow he ended up back at the hospital. He went in, not really sure of what would happen. It was busy, as expected. He walked up to the receptionist.

"Excuse me, there was a brown haired girl in an accident today? I need to see her." He told her, not really sure why they would let him see her.

"Are you family?" she asked. He shook his head.

"I'm sorry, but only family is allowing in to see her. Do you even know her?" He shook his head again. She sighed and pointed towards the exit. He slowly started walking back, then quickly dashed around back. The receptionist either didn't care or didn't think about what he did, because no one chased him. He looked around, lot of people were sick, but none seemed like they just survived a car wreck. They must have checked her in to a room upstairs. He went to search for an elevator or stairs. Once getting an elevator, he didn't even know what button to press. He sighed and pressed two, figuring he would work his way up.

Floor two was surgery, probably not what he wanted, but there was a sign saying which floor was what. Floor 5 seemed most likely. So he punched the 5 button and headed up. There he walked past each room, hoping to get a glimpse of the girl, finally finding her in room 502. The tag by the room door said M. Caulfield. It must have been her name. He went in and the girl just stared at him. She looked helpless in the bed, IV lines running out of her arm, her head bandaged, one wrist was also wrapped. Clay couldn't help himself and simply blurted out one thing.

"Hannah."