She didn't know how long she had been staring at the white on the ceiling before she heard the door slam. They were back. She couldn't explain the relief she felt at seeing that red jacket. With both of them here, they might just make it out alive.

She looked at them from her position on the couch. Mark Jefferson's words had left her speechless. He was heartless. He was evil, but he wasn't lying. She was sure about that much. He was here to follow orders, and Rachel Amber hadn't. Is that why they shot Chloe? She couldn't follow orders either. Principal Wells was there. He looked uncomfortable and weary. Did he want to be doing this? Was he following orders too? She looked at Sean Prescott. Those thin lips and hard eyes. Everyone was following him. She was still alive then it had to be because he wanted her to be, but why? She couldn't get the rewind power to work, and he didn't believe them about the storm. So why the bunker? Why all the food and water? And why keep her alive? Was it for Nathan? She couldn't work out what was going on. Earlier she'd seen him punch him, mock him, bring him to tears. Yet, she was still here, and he was lying to him. Did he care about him? Or was it just a sick need to control everything? She couldn't tell anymore.

Her eyes rested on Nathan. He still had bruises all over him, and he was staring at her, relief washing over his face. Did he think she was dead too?

He walked over and sat beside her, offering her… a sandwich?

She looked at him quizzically. Then at his father.

Sean Prescott.

"Maxine. It seems my son thinks you are important. Whilst I disagree with him, Principal Wells seems to think their might be some truth to it so, against my better judgement, you'll need to stay here, for a while at least. I suggest you eat something. Mark, I trust you to keep this matter in hand?" He asked, exasperatedly, his hand flapping towards Nathan and Max.

Mark Jefferson nodded silently, still leant back in the chair, the gun an ever constant reminder in his hand.

"Until when?" Her voice croaked out. She couldn't remember how long it had been since she had last spoken.

He coughed. "Friday".

The storm. Could it be, that he was scared? Or was this all to placate Nathan?

"What happens after that?" She pushed him.

He walked over to the door. Opening the handle. "That, is up to you" he declared, before he left. Principal Wells following shortly behind him.

"Here" Nathan was still holding out the sandwich, like it was the most normal thing in the world. He stared at her face for a few seconds, before realising what a futile attempt it was.

She stared at him, sitting next to her. His breathing slow and steady. His voice calm. Had he been drugged? His eyes looked weird and wiry.

"Nathan? Are you okay?" She asked him.

"Just another shitty day" He spoke into the floor, rubbing the dirt from his trainer across the pristine white on the floor below.

"How long have I been here for?" Max asked him

He looked at his watch, "I don't remember. Maybe 20, 21 hours?" He guessed, shrugging.

He turned her gaze towards Mark Jefferson, who sat silently, watching their every move, like a fly on the wall. He really was for hire, wasn't he?

It was her turn to sigh now
"How long until Friday?" She asked, turning back to Nathan.

He looked at his watch again, like he'd completely forgotten he'd just looked at it. He was really messed up. "12 hours"

She left it a moment, considering how she was even supposed to ask the next question

"What happens?"

He turned to face her then, a dazed look on his face.

"You've seen the storm too right?" She asked, knowing full well the answer.

"So, how do we save Arcadia Bay?" She asked, feeling, for the first time in a long time, like there might still be hope somewhere.

His look is quizzical now

"I'm… we're supposed to do something right? How do we save everybody?"

He sighed then, looking back at the ground

"Nathan, it's okay" She reached out and squeezed his arm reassuringly. "We need to focus right now. Forget all of this. We don't have the time. We're both seeing this stuff for a reason. We need to work out what it is. Tell me, what do you see? How do we save everybody?"

He falls forward until his head rests in his hands. "We don't".

Her hand that was squeezing his arm gently pulled his arm away from his face, so she could see him. "What do you mean?"

He lets out a frustrated sigh "You are so stupid Max." He shrugged her arm off of him. The Nathan she knew before was back. "You think I'm going to be able to save everybody? You think you're so smart Max, but you don't see anything."

She kept staring at him. He was right. Before, when he spoke to her like this. She didn't see what he was trying to tell her. She thought he was being an asshole. He sure sounded like one. But he wasn't. It was never that. He was trying to warn her. Trying to help her. His words were filled with hate, but it wasn't for her. It never had been.

She shuffled closer, placing her hand back on his arm despite the sneer he gave her. "I see you".

He allowed himself to give her a sideways glance.

She let her hand rise up and brush his cheek and felt his skin tremble at her touch but he didn't pull away.

Minutes went past, with Max softly stroking the side of his face, his hair. The back of his neck. He fell towards her, leaning on her arm and she gently rubbed his back. She didn't bother to look at Mark Jefferson, she just wanted to pretend he wasn't even there.

"What do you see?" She wasn't sure if he'd asked, or if she'd imagined it, his voice was so tiny.

She looked at him, his eyes glazed and distant. His breathing heavy. All these drugs he was on were obviously to keep him mellow and manageable. Everything seemed to be about control. About power. Was it really working? Was it worth it?

She used her other hand to pull his face so he was looking at her.

"I see a hero Nathan." She whispered at him. She needed him to feel it. To feel that someone cared.

"We can do this" She said afterwards. She didn't know who she was trying to convince more? Nathan or herself.