October 24, 2013, seven days to Halloween

Max was sitting alone on her bed in her dorm room, gripping a pillow tightly on her lap. Her alarm room clock showed 03:15 in bright red digits. She had not been able to go to sleep because of what had happened in the bistro earlier.

When she had excused herself and found the restroom, she had gone to the first possible stall and thrown up everything she had just eaten. She had spent almost ten minutes gasping and gagging, before Chloe had come to look for her.

"Max, is everything ok?" Chloe had asked.

"I'm ok, my stomach is acting up more than I thought," Max had answered, trying to sound as normal as possible.

The return trip back to Arcadia Bay had proceeded mostly in silence, with Max trying to pretend that she didn't see Chloe's concerned look. When they had reached Chloe's home, she had asked whether Max would like to bunk with her but the brunette had politely declined and driven back to the dormitory.

I thought my powers were gone for good, she thought. Why did they return all of a sudden?

Max turned around and picked a picture from her photo memorial wall. She held the photo in her both hands and tried to focus on it. After a minute of intense staring, she gave up. Ok, still can't focus.

Max stood up and limped to her desk. She flipped the mug that had her pencils and pens over. She then extended her arm and concentrated. As much as she tried, the mug stayed flipped and the pens were scattered over the desk. Can't rewind either.

She put all the pens back into the mug save for one pencil that was only a few inches long. She held the pencil between her fingers and focused on it. Almost instantly, the pencil started to slowly grow. Wowser! The pen kept growing until it reached its original length, then the sharpened head turned flat, the way it had been when Max had bought it. Then, all of a sudden, the pen vanished out of existence, like it never had been there. Oh fuck!

Max pinched her fingers together but she no longer felt the pen. This is fucking amazeballs! I actually rewound the pen out of existence!

Max looked around her room for something else to try her new ability. She spotted one of the empty Breezer bottles in the recyclable glass container. She limped to the container, took the bottle in her hands and concentrated. In a few moments, the bottle began to fill with its contents and in no time it was full.

Max looked at the bottle in her hand. I have an endless supply of Breezer. She raised the bottle on her lips but then she stopped, when she heard the familiar voice.

"Reality check, Caulfield!" Victoria had appeared on her side. "That really is a neat trick but are you sure you want to go down that road?"

"What do you care, 'Vic'?" Max frowned to her. "What does anyone care?"

"I know someone who cares a lot about your wellbeing, and in some level you care about it too," Victoria said. "Otherwise, I wouldn't be here."

"N-no, I guess not," Max stammered quietly.

"I know exactly, what you're going through but I'm not able to help you process it," Victoria said. "You have to talk to someone. - I can offer you advice but in the end it's up to you, Max." After that sentence, she disappeared.

Max looked at the bottle in her hand. A single tear trickled down her cheek as she concentrated again. The cap appeared back on top of the bottle and in a few moments the bottle vanished.

Suddenly Max began to feel dizzy and she had to take support from the wall. She instinctively wiped her nose with her hand, which was stained in blood. Oh crap! I hope this doesn't end up in a fucking tornado, she thought as she sat down on her bed.

Chloe was also awake. She was sitting in her old swing in the backyard. An unlit joint was hanging from her lips and she had her Zippo in her right hand.

When Chloe had decided to quit smoking, she had still held on to her remaining stash of weed, to toke on special occasions. Out of consideration to Joyce and David, she no longer blazed in her room but in the backyard instead.

Fuck! This wasn't what I had in mind, when I thought of special occasions, Chloe thought. She looked at the Zippo with a skull engraving in her hand but she didn't make her usual backward forward swing against her thigh to light it. She picked up a metallic cigarette case from her pocket, put the joint back into it and closed it. She looked at the case. Her initials were engraved on it. Chloe had got it from Rachel for her nineteenth birthday. It was the last gift she gave before her disappearance. Am I going to lose Max like I did you, Rach?

Chloe thought about what had happened in the bistro, when she had returned from the restroom. Max had clearly freaked about something, which definitely wasn't lactose. The drop of blood mixed in Max's drink was pretty clear evidence of that. When Max had not returned, Chloe had went after her and found the brunette gagging in the restroom stall. Max had clearly tried to avoid the subject on the way home, so Chloe had to rely on her own deductions about what was eating Max alive.

Chloe put the cigarette case and the Zippo back into the pocket just in time to hear the door to living room being slid open.

"Chloe, what are you doing here at this hour?" David Madsen asked sternly.

Chloe's eyes narrowed slightly because of her stepfather's tone but she let out a deep sigh and relaxed again. "Would you believe I was just about to light up," she answered, choosing to leave undisclosed what she was going to light up.

"Nicotine withdrawals giving a hard time?" David asked, now in a more relaxed tone.

"More like human relationships causing nicotine withdrawals," the punk laughed.

"Max?"

"Yeah," Chloe admitted. "Can I ask you, how did you deal with all the shit you saw back in Iraq?"

David walked to the swing and rested his arm on the pole. "Who says I've dealt with it," he answered and looked into the distance. "My squad was doing a patrol run on the outskirts of Fallujah, when a roadside mine was detonated towards our Humvee. Everyone else in the Humvee was killed except me." David paused for a moment and closed his eyes. "The enemy began firing at the wreck. I managed to crawl out somehow, into a roadside ditch."

"What happened then?"

"I don't know if they saw me but they kept firing at the wreck and to my direction for I don't know how long. I just lied there and didn't dare to move a muscle. I was scared like shit, but that wasn't the worst part." David bent down on his knees. "After what felt like an eternity, they stopped firing and it became silent. I just lied there and waited, if they would come. Soon it became dark and I still didn't dare to move. I tell you, the silence and anticipation was the worst thing. I really thought I would die that night."

Chloe looked at her stepfather with new eyes. She knew that David had had it rough while in Iraq but she could have never imagined this. In a way, she and David had something in common. They both had been abandoned and felt lonely in their distress.

"It wasn't until next morning, before two other squads from our base came to rescue me."

"Jesus, David! I didn't realize..." Chloe awkwardly placed her hand on her stepfather's shoulder.

"You're the first one I've told about this since my discharge. Even Joyce doesn't know," David said.

"Dave, dude, I really appreciate that you chose to confide in me with this," Chloe said and stood up. "If only Max would do the same."

"You have to give her time. Max'll come to you, when she's ready," David assured her.

"I just hope that'll happen before she does something stupid," Chloe sighed.

"Max is lucky to have a friend that cares about her as much as you. She's definitely been a good influence to you," David said.

That remark made Chloe smile. In the other timeline David's opinion about Max's influence had been pretty much the opposite, when Max had taken the blame for Chloe's weed. "Yes she has," she just said.

"Come on; let's go inside before we both catch a cold!" David started walking towards the house and Chloe followed a few steps behind him.

Victoria opened her eyes when the first tunes of 'Quicker' by I Blame Coco started playing on her alarm clock mp3 player. She rose up and started humming along with the song as she walked to pick her toiletries.

"...then we could outsmart time!" she joined the chorus. Yeah right, she chuckled about the thought.

The blonde's expression became more serious, when she thought about her encounter with the spirit yesterday. What the fuck I'm supposed to do with him when he doesn't even remember his own name? Victoria thought frustrated. She hoped there would've been someone she could talk about this with.

Courtney and Taylor were out of the question. They would have thought that she's lost it completely.

Kate was a kind and sweet girl but she'd probably call an exorcist for her.

Nathan would've given her the benefit of the doubt but he was locked away and waiting for his trial.

Then there was Maxine Caulfield. The brunette had told her in the hospital that if Victoria had anything on her mind, she'd listen. Her offer seemed sincere but this subject might be too incredible even for her. Besides, Max had appeared a bit on the edge lately, like Nathan.

Victoria knew that with one call, she'd get a prescription that would make the spirits go away but she preferred not to take them as they made her emotionally numb.

Victoria took her toiletries and walked to the shower room. She found Max there at one of the sinks, washing her teeth.

"Maxine," Victoria said, using deliberately the brunette's full name, knowing what the answer would be.

"Vic," the brunette answered and cast a quick glance at the blonde, before continuing her brushing.

"Looking forward to the photography class today?" Victoria asked. Today would be the first time it would be held since the arrest of Mark Jefferson. The classes would be held by substitutes until the end of the year. A new teacher would start in the beginning of spring semester.

"Yeah, I guess I am," Max answered after she had washed her mouth. "Wonder who the first substitute will be?"

Victoria smiled knowingly. "I have some firsthand insight about the matter but I'm gonna hold onto it. Let's just say you might be pleasantly surprised."

"Sure, whatever," Max said indifferently and limped away.

Victoria looked at the at the closing shower room door slightly bewildered. Sure, the last weeks had not been easy for Max but one would think that she'd been more enthusiastic about the photography classes starting again. Well, maybe she'll cheer up, when she sees, who is substituting.

David Madsen was sitting in his office and having his third cup of coffee for the morning. He was looking at an empty form on his desk. It was an application to the Oregon Public Safety Academy in Salem.

His stepdaughter had suggested earlier that since he has a knack for detective work, he should become a police, instead of being just a security guard. At first, he had not given any serious thought for the idea but it had come back to haunt him. Joyce had been supportive and being a police officer certainly had some benefits over being a security guard.

Therefore he had the application form in front of him. It was still untouched. He took a pen and put the tip on the first empty field but didn't start writing. He certainly had his military training to his advantage but on the other hand he still suffered from PTSD. Would that be the deal breaker or just an issue that could be addressed?

Fuck, who am I kidding? David took the form, put it inside his desk drawer and slammed the drawer shut.

Max limped into the classroom and took her usual place at the back of the class. She took her Polaroid camera out of her bag. It had been a while since she had used it.

Max took a look at the classroom. Not much had changed after Mark Jefferson's arrest. Some of the posters had been removed from the wall but otherwise it looked pretty much the same.

Well, here's for new beginnings, Max thought and turned her back to the classroom and lifted her Polaroid and took a selfie.

"Behold! It is the return of Max Caulfield, the selfie-taking photographer!" A voice said behind the brunette.

Max turned to see Warren Graham standing behind her.

"Hi, Warren," Max greeted the young man. "What's up?"

"Brooke and I have been working on our Halloween costumes," Warren said.

"Who will you be?" Max asked.

"John Steed and Emma Peel," Warren said enthusiastically.

"Ah, 'The Avengers'." The brunette grinned impishly. "Smooth, Mr. Graham."

"What about you, Max?"

"Oh, it's a secret."

"Care to give a hint?" Warren asked, lifting his eyebrow.

"Sure," Max said. "Come closer."

Warren leaned forward and turned his ear towards Max, who also leaned closer.

"Seven," Max whispered into Warren's ear.

"Seven of Nine?" Warren blurted.

"No, seven days, you doofus!" Max chuckled. "You'll know in seven days like everyone else!"

Warren blushed slightly. "So, the photography classes are starting again?" he changed the subject.

"Yeah," Max said. "Wonder if the substitute is going to be any good - or at least someone I've heard of."

"I guess you'll find soon enough," Warren said as he heard steps from the hallway. "I also guess that's my cue." He headed towards the door. "Later, Max."

Right after warren had stepped out, Michelle Grant, who was the acting principal, stepped in.

"Good morning, class!" Mrs. Grant said. "As you probably know, the new photography teacher won't be starting until the beginning of next semester."

"Therefore, until holiday break, the photography classes will be held intermittently by visiting teachers," Mrs. Grant continued. "Thanks to Victoria, we are honored to have a renowned photographer to keep the lectures until end of this month."

Max cast a quick glance at Victoria, who seemed clearly pleased with herself.

"Without further ado," Mrs. Grant pointed towards the door. "I am honored to introduce you Ms. Julia Bennett!"

Max's jaw dropped in shock as she watched the person, who had captured and nearly killed her in the other timeline, to walk into the classroom.

Max was probably the only person in the room, in addition to Julia Bennett herself, who was aware that Julia Bennett was in fact a trans-woman, formerly known as Joseph Adams, and Mark Jefferson's former assistant and ex-lover. In time, she would also be a copycat serial killer.

Max could see from the corner of her eye that Victoria was staring at her slightly bewildered, which made her realize how strongly she had reacted to Julia's entrance. Get a frickin' grip, Caulfield! She doesn't even know who you are. - Or does she?

"Good morning!" Julia greeted the students. "My name is Julia Bennett. Most of you have probably heard of me, so I won't go into details of my background. Those who haven't, go and Google it up." She walked in front of the teacher's desk and leaned against it. "Let's do a short introductory round. Ms. Chase I've already had the pleasure to meet in San Francisco -" She nodded towards Victoria. "- but the rest of you, please tell me your name and something about your background."

One by one, each student made a short self-introduction, some in more detail than the others.

While waiting her turn, Max's initial shock began to turn into anger, building up from all the affliction that she'd had to endure in Julia's hands. Her eyes narrowed and her knuckles whitened as she squeezed her hands into fists.

"And who are you, young lady?" Julia turned to look at Max.

"Maxine. Siobhán. Caulfield," the brunette said icily and stared Julia Bennett straight in the eyes, crossing her arms and making a short pause between each of her names. She could feel everyone turning to look at her in amazement but she didn't let her eyes off of her opponent.

"Uh, okay," Julia said, blinking and taken aback. "Is there anything else you'd like to share?"

Sure, where would I start? I was your assistant and I admired you, until I found out that you were a psychotic serial killer, who held a grudge against another nutjob serial killer and decided to use me as your pawn of vengeance. Oh, and I almost forgot to mention that I know you used to be a man.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" Max just said, grinning smugly.

Michelle Grant couldn't believe her eyes and ears. "Ms. Caulfield, my office, now!" she finally said, when she had recovered from her bemusement. "I'm so sorry, Ms. Bennett. This isn't at all like Max," she said apologetically to the woman next to her. "Please excuse us."

"That's all right," Julia said. "We can't please everyone."

Max took her belongings, stood up and limped out of the classroom with Mrs. Grant right on her tail.

"What was that all about, Max?" Mrs. Grant asked sternly, when they both were inside the principal's office.

Max didn't answer. She just sat defiantly, with her arms crossed.

"Very well, then," Mrs. Grant said. "I know that you've been through a lot lately and that's the only reason I won't suspend you. You will, however return to the dormitory for the remainder of the day and since you obviously seem to have something against Ms. Bennett, who is as esteemed photographer as Mark Jefferson ever was, you will not be attending any of her classes."

"Was this all?" Max just asked.

Mrs. Grant smoothed her expression a bit. "Max, if there's anything you want to talk about, my door is always open."

A part of Max felt ashamed that she had embarrassed the only teacher she really liked. She wanted to apologize but her anger still got the best of her. "I keep that in mind," she said and stood up.

Max limped out of the principal's office and into the girls' restroom, where she threw up into the sink as she let her emotions take over. Oh my god! She's here! Max thought, when she was panting over the sink. What the fuck is she doing here? Max knew Julia well enough to know that she wouldn't come to a small town school to teach just out of goodness. She had to have some other motive to be here. In retrospective, it had not been very smart to be outright hostile towards her, but seeing Julia had been such a shock that Max had acted out of pure instinct. Well, can't rewind to fix it.

The thought made Max wonder whether she could rewind living things as well as lifeless objects. Rewinding a classroom full of people one at a time to fix the current situation would be too cumbersome though.

Max washed her face and limped out of the restroom. If Julia Bennett was here in Blackwell, she would need some protection. She went to the security guard office and knocked on the door.

"Max! What are you doing here?" David Madsen said as he opened the door and recognized her stepdaughter's friend.

"Can I have a word with you, Mr. Madsen?" Max asked.

"Please, call me David," David said and let the brunette in. "Any friend of Joyce and Chloe is a friend of mine."

"Okay, David," Max said. It was funny how different the chief of security was towards her, when they had not started off with the wrong foot. Max had not seen David since the shooting but she knew that he had helped Chloe to put the Ranchero together for Max, just like had helped Max to do the same in the other timeline.

"Chloe told me that you helped her with the truck," Max said. "Thank you so much!"

"You're welcome, Max," David said and grinned. Helped indeed. I did most of the work on that junk, he thought. "So, what did you want to talk about?"

"I need a gun."

David looked at the brunette, not believing his ears.

"Ok, let's pretend I didn't hear that," David finally managed to say. "I mean, if I had heard, I'd have to report you to the principal and you'd be suspended. You of all people should realize why it's a bad idea."

"Yes, I know," Max said silently and felt the healing gunshot wound on her left thigh with her hand.

"But hypothetically speaking, why do you feel you need a gun?" David asked.

"For protection," Max answered.

"What do you need protection from?"

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

"Try me."

"I have a bad feeling about Julia Bennett," Max said after a moment of hesitation.

"Julia Bennett? The new substitute photography teacher?" David asked bewildered.

"Did you run a background check on her?" Max asked.

"Of course! It's standard procedure," David said slightly piqued. "Her record is squeaky clean, save for a few parking and speeding tickets."

Max looked at Chloe's stepfather. How could she make him to find the person behind the carefully built identity of Julia Bennett?

"Could you check again?" Max requested.

"Well, I suppose I could." David said a bit reluctantly. "Anything specific you want me to look for?"

"Try to look for something that isn't there," Max said mysteriously.

"What do you mean by that?" David asked even more bewildered.

"Trust me, you'll know it when you see it," Max assured.

"I'll see what I can find but no promises," David said finally.

"That's all I can ask for," Max said and stood up. "Thanks!" She started limping towards the door.

"Max, wait!" David stopped her. He opened his desk drawer and picked up something. "Look, I can't give you a gun but I can give you some protection. Take this." He passed a small spray can to Max.

Max looked at the red and black can. "What is it?"

"It's a pepper spray," David explained. "It's highly concentrated capsaicin. Spray it on your assailant's face and it should slow him down."

"Ok, thanks!" Max said and smiled as she put the spray in her bag. "And David…" Max looked at Chloe's stepfather. "…please don't say anything to Chloe."

"All right, I won't," David promised.

Frank Bowers stepped out from his RV, holding a paper and a key in his hands. His dog, Pompidou leaped out after him and walked to his owner. Frank looked at the paper in his hand. It was a title deed of a property, consisting of half an acre of land, a farmhouse and a barn. The 'farmhouse' was rather a small shack that had seen better days. The barn wasn't in much of a better shape but it was moderate-sized.

"Well, Pompidou, this is our new home," Frank said to the dog.

Pompidou barked approvingly and wagged his tail.

Frank had just returned to Arcadia Bay after being away for a few days. He had spent the time driving along the Oregon coast, collecting debts and thinking.

When Chloe Price had told Frank, who was responsible for Rachel's death and how she had died, his world had crumbled. The punk girl didn't need to tell him that he was also responsible for Rachel's fate. He was the one who had sold Nathan Prescott the drugs that he used to overdose Rachel.

Frank had released Chloe from her debt as an expression of gratitude. After the punk girl had left, he had packed his stuff into his RV and drove off.

By the time Frank had reached Newport, he had already known what he was going to do. He needed a new direction in life, a direction that didn't involve drugs. From time to time, he had thought of opening a shelter for abused and abandoned dogs. The time had just never been right, until now.

Frank had sold his remaining stock and collected old debts in Newport, before driving to Portland to settle the debts there. From Portland he had continued to other cities, until he had enough money to buy the property which he was now standing on.

Frank had got a good deal on the farm but it would require lots of work to convert the barn to a shelter for dogs. He hoped that the money he had left would be enough to cover the conversion.

"Let's settle in," Frank said to Pompidou. "Tomorrow we're going to visit Rachel."

Chloe: Sup Maximus? How was school?

Max: Sucked big time. Guess who is our substitute?

Max: Julia Bennett.

Chloe: Fuck! No kidding?

Max: Nope. She came to our class this morning.

Chloe: What happened then?

Max: Got myself called to the principal's office and grounded for the rest of the day.

Chloe: Holy shit, Max. What did U do?

Max: I was overtly hostile towards Julia. Mrs. Grant didn't approve.

Chloe: Sometimes I wish I was still going to Blackhell. U giving a teacher a piece of your mind would've been hella priceless. Pun totally intended.

Max: Not funny.

Chloe: C'mon! U have to appreciate the entertainment value of the situation.

Max: Still not funny.

Chloe: Ok, sorry.

Chloe: U all right? Want me to come over?

Max: No thks, I'm good.

Max: Let's bitch about it tomorrow at b'fast, 'k?

Chloe: Sure. Luv U.

Max: Luv U back.

The Arcadia Bay Lumber Mill was located just outside town center, between Arcadia Bay Avenue and the beach. The lumber mill was also the end of the railway line. The arrangement locomotives were moving lumber cars back and forth on the railway yard.

The mill was owned by the Prescott family and rumors circulated that Sean Prescott was planning to close it down in order to build a holiday resort in its place.

Right outside the mill property, there was an abandoned warehouse. A white Tesla Model S parked in front of the warehouse. Julia Bennett stepped out of the car and walked to the door. She took a key from her pocket and unlocked the door.

Julia had contacted a local real estate agent in order to rent a working space for one month. She had made the rental agreement over the phone and transferred the deposit and rent from an account that couldn't be traced back to her. The name in the rental agreement was false and the address was a post office box in Portland. The keys had been sent to that post office box and Julia had picked them up on her way from Seattle.

Julia flicked the lights on. Right by the door there were piles of crates but further back there was an empty space. This will do, she thought as she walked between the crates. This will do just nicely.

To be continued...

A/N: Thanks again for all the reviews! Please keep 'em coming! That's the fuel for the writer.

GrumpyCat42: I wasn't quoting Airplane, at least intentionaly. Now that you mention it, though... :)

About Max's middle name. Her school record doesn't indicate that she has one, even though everyone else has. Other sources don't indicate it either, but that doesn't mean she couldn't have one. I thought Max's middle name should be more reminiscent of her Irish heritage, hence 'Siobhán'. :)