CHAPTER 7

White.

The world melts into being, out of the void of pure whiteness.

A sharp click, the sound of mechanical gears whirring.

A frozen moment in time grinds forward.

"Someday Dad will get one of them newfangled computers," Chloe says. She pauses for a moment, then blinks. She's possessed of the strangest feeling that she's trapped, for lack of a better word. Going through the motions, saying things and moving about, all the while completely unable to stop herself from following whatever script she's supposed to be playing out. She feels as if she's little more than a programmed automaton.

"I hope the flash didn't scare you Max. This...is a keeper."

It's her father who says the words.

Her...father?

Max?

The sense of disquiet, of depersonalization flares up, struggles against its bonds. For some reason, something deep inside is so glad, so thankful, so relieved to see him. And her. Both of them!

Yet all she can do is helplessly watch as some other Chloe speaks for her.

"Not until I see it first! You know the rules, Dad! Max, tell him…"

She turns to her friend, shocked by how out of sorts she appears to be.

"Whoa, hey. You look totally pale. Are you okay?"

"Yeah...I just...uh...yeah...I'm fine."

"Okay, Chloe," William says. "Give me the thumbs up or thumbs down."

Chloe doesn't answer. She's too focused on Max, on the way she wanders about the house, dazed and uncertain.

It stirs something inside her. A memory. A feeling. Something important, something…

Gah! This is gonna drive her nuts. She needs to figure this out! Why is this...why is this so crazy? Why does seeing her best friend and her father together in one room make her feel so happy, and so sad?

What would Rachel say, if she asked her for advice?

Wait...who's….Rachel…?

"Hello? Chloe? Now you? I hope both you girls aren't coming down with something."

It felt different this time, as Chloe took control; less herky-jerky, more like a simple settling into place, like water seeping through cracks. As if waking up slowly, gradually, from a long sleep, opposed to quickly rising up from a bad dream.

"What? No - ah, no...I'm fine. I'm...I'm great, Dad."

The word slipped from her lips without thought as Chloe ground down hard on her instinctive desire to throw her arms around her father, now standing whole and very much alive in her presence.

Ten years. For ten, long, hard, terrible years, she'd missed him. Mourned until the memory of him grew twisted and faded from repeated recollection. So many of her formative years passed on in his absence, until one day, Chloe Price woke up and realized that she remembered her father more as an adored ideal than as an actual living, breathing human being.

She coughed for a moment, covering up a sob that wrenched itself free from her chest.

"Are you sure you're okay, Chloe?" William asked with concern.

Swiftly calling upon her winningest smile, she replied, "I'm great, Dad. Spluh, why wouldn't I be? Just a little tickle in my throat. Don't worry." She gave him a soft, affectionate punch on his shoulder, and felt a shock tingle up her spine, as she confirmed that yes, this was happening, and yes, he was here, and whole and real again.

Her eyes drifted over to Max, cradling William's camera in her hands. There was something about the way she was looking at them both.

Huh. She always adored that thing. Don't know what to make of that expression though. She's looking at me like I'm a...a stranger or something.

The moment of oddness passed, as Max held up the camera, smiled shyly and said, "Now I get to take a picture. Strike a pose!"

Chloe stood dumbly for a moment. That sense - that something was off-kilter - returned, stronger than before. An alarming chaotic ripple in an otherwise placid lake surface.

I seriously don't remember Max taking our picture that day. Weird.

Before Chloe could fully ponder the butterfly effect ramifications that taking over the body of her fourteen year old self was clearly producing, William smiled affably and murmured, "Just make me look young."

Chole laughed once and added, "Yeah. Uh...make me a star."

The picture was taken, then placed next to the previous photo. With that, Max headed off into the living room. Chloe was torn, uncertain which of the two she wanted to spend time with. Both were so precious to her, in their own ways.

Okay Chloe. C'mon! Head in the fucking game here, bitch! Last chance, literally your last chance to pull this off. You make this work, you can call Max and Dad every damn day for the rest of your life. Hah! The way that last trip went, maybe I'll wake up, and Dad'll be giving me away at my own wedding to…

Chloe bit her lip, and looked over her shoulder as Max turned the corner down the hallway. She was still trying to process all of the revelations her last trip revealed, and it was difficult to determine which had the greater impact: that her best friend somehow acquired magic time-twisting powers in another universe, or that the two of them were happy. And together, and in love.

If just for a little while.

She turned away and blushed down to her chest.

There's no reason why that would happen in this timeline, the one I'm about to make.

But then again, there wasn't any reason why it wouldn't, either.

I can't...I can't think about this right now! I don't have any time to waste! I have to focus on making this timeline right. I have to save my Dad. And then I'll deal with everything else rattling around in my head.

"Chloe? You want to help me with the cooking?" William asked, in a tone that suggested he was clearly not convinced there wasn't something wrong with his daughter.

"S-sure Dad. Yeah, love to." She fixed her warmest smile upon him. "Just tell me how many eggs to crack."

The two of them chatted affectionately, Chloe did her best to keep up with the playful banter, while working to formulate a plan to save William from his appointed hour with Death.

What do I do? How do I stop this? Ah God! Fucking Frank's probably laughing at me, because I didn't plan ahead. Like usual! Okay, screw this. It can't be hard. Dad was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. So this should be easy, right? Like delaying him, even for a minute or two. I just have to remember how long it'll be until the phone…

...suddenly started to ring.

Oh shit! Fuckfuckfuck!

"Uh, hey! Excuse me, Dad. I'll get it," Chloe said. It was as good an opening as any to get her away and do something, anything! She'd wasted so much time, and she only had one shot at this!

Damnit!

Maybe she could keep Mom talking on the phone for a while. A minute, even two. Idle gossip, something. Anything! A small push that could turn into an avalanche of positive change.

"Sorry, wrong number."

Wait. What?! Was that Max?!

Chloe stared at her friend. Max looked up at her, like a deer caught in headlights. A few seconds passed. She could hear Joyce on the other end of the line, demanding to know what was going on.

Max fumbled with the phone as she desperately slammed the phone back down into its cradle. She then reached up with a hand, as if trying to pluck something from the air…

A horrified look spread over her face, and a second later, she quickly dropped her arm back down.

What the literal fuck is happening here!?

Chloe didn't have time for this. At the same time, every instinct was screaming at her to interrogate Max, to demand why the girl was acting so strangely, why she was trying to keep Joyce from reaching her father. There was no reason for this! Something was wrong.

Terribly wrong!

But she also knew that her Mom had a cell phone, and it wouldn't be more than thirty seconds before she was on it, calling her Dad directly. She didn't have time to figure out the mystery of Max's strange behavior.

"C-chloe. Wait, I can ex-!"

"No need!" she cheerily exclaimed as she shot the other girl down. In one smooth motion, Chloe scooped the car keys from the bowl on the same table the phone rest upon.

Let's see. If I remember correctly, the weird little doohicky on the ring is that remote key finder Dad got. Jesus he loved that shit from SpyGuy. So yeah, okay, I can't just hide them in the room, and I can't have them on me. I need to get rid of them. Somewhere far enough to not be in range, or at least not be heard, and I need to do it now!

The perfect plan immediately snapped into her brain.

She calmly yet rapidly shuffled towards the glass sliding door leading to the back yard. She ignored the looks Max gave her as she followed along. She quickly slid the door open, chucked the keys out into the yard, and then rolled the door back, just in time to hear her father answering his cell phone.

"Chloe?! What are you doing?" Max asked.

Leaning smugly against the glass, Chloe mused, "I dunnoooo. What were yoooou doing? Telling my Mom she called the wrong number?"

Max cringed and gave a nervous laugh.

"Practical joke?"

Chloe nodded once, latching onto the opening Max gave her.

"Practical joke. So you in on this or what?"

Max lit up. "Oh yeah! Seriously, I am in. Totally in. So...so in! The innest!"

"Really? I'm not sure you're in," Chloe teased.

"I can enjoy jokes too, you know," Max softly complained.

"It's just usually you'd be the one telling me not to do something that'll get us in trouble." Chloe waited for a few beats, letting Max stumbled over her explanation before she said, "Relax. Being a bad girl is a good look on you." She couldn't resist reaching out and gripping her upper arm, and throwing in the kind of playful, sensual wink that was more suited to a woman in her twenties than a girl barely in her teens.

It was a stupid risk, but Chloe couldn't help but admit to herself that the reaction it got from Max was totally worth it.

"Of course. Last time I order from Spyguy electronics," William bemoaned, breaking the tension between the two of them.

Holy shit! This is it! He didn't find the keys. Now he'll have to do something else to pick up Mom from work!

"It's cool, Daddy!" Chloe exclaimed. "Just call an Uber."

"A what?" her father asked incredulously.

She shrunk down, her heart smashing out wild staccato beats. Of course that would make perfect sense in 2018. But In 2008, the damn company didn't exist yet!

I think?

Fortunately, Max quickly saved the situation, as she interjected, "You can take the bus, right? The stop is just down the street!"

The bus! Duh! How the fuck could I forget about that?

"This I can do. Thanks Max!"

"Oh yeah. The bus is great! It comes every fifteen minutes, and they'll be plenty of room for you and Joyce and…"

"Yeah! The bus is totally hot!" Chloe added, smirking over to Max. "I'm pretty sure we've got him sold on the concept, yo."

With a light sigh, William said, "Hah, the bus it is then!" As he wandered out of the house, he murmured, "Ah, Joyce will love this."

And just like that, he was gone.

Chloe had done it!

She and Max together. Totally teamed up, somehow, and managed to pull it off.

"Ha ha!" she exclaimed with a yelp. "We did it! It worked, it totally worked. I can't believe we got away with it!"

"Are you okay?" Max asked with concern. She was looking at her, like she'd never actually seen her before.

"You kidding? I'm great! This is awesome, I'm awesome, we are totally awesome!"

The two of them were hugging tightly. It was hard to tell who went in first, but the moment was pure fortuitous sympatico. Chloe was grateful, always and forever, that her Dad was coming back into her life. And so was Max!

Because why not?! If Dad's still around, I'll be okay. Everything will be okay! And Max and I will stay in touch, and...and who knows what that'll mean. Oh my God! It's going to be great! It's going to be the best!

On instinct, Chloe's mouth starts to move in, adult impulse forgetting its current time and circumstance.

Her vision swims before their lips have a chance to meet. Everything starts to turn black.

"Chloe? H-hey. Are you alright? Chloe? Chloe?!"

Chloe shakes her head, wondering why the heck she's got Max pulled up close against her.

"What, hey? I'm...I'm fine, Max. Just feeling woozy. Huh. Where did Dad go?"

She pulls slowly back, wondering why Max doesn't answer, as her own features turn slack and glassy for a few seconds.

"Are you okay, nerd?" Chloe teases.

Max blinks, and says, "Huh? I'm...fine. Hey. Wasn't your Dad here a few seconds ago?"

"Uh. Maybe? Huh. Wait, didn't he go to pick up Mom?"

"Oh. Right. That's it. But he had to take a bus? Or a…"

"A what?"

"Chloe, what's an Uber?"

"Hell should I know? Anyhow, c'mon upstairs with me? Mom wants me to clean up my room, and I could really use your help trying to figure out what I should keep, and what goes in the trash."

The two of them skip upstairs.

It's going to be an awesome day today!


An so life goes on.

Chloe and Max spend the rest of the day reminiscing about their childhoods. William returns home with Joyce in tow, and the two of them have a lovely salmon dinner. Afterwards, Chloe and Max build their dream pirate fort on the beach.

As the sun sets, Max finally confesses to Chloe that she and her family are leaving for Seattle in a few days time. Chloe confesses that she knew all along. They laugh, and hug, and swear to write back and stay in touch, each and every day.

For a while, that's exactly what happens.

A few weeks later, William surprises Chloe with a trip to Arizona; painfully aware of the classist drama that his daughter is forced to endure, he offers to send her to an academy in Phoenix that is almost as good as Blackwell, but far more egalitarian.

Chloe bursts into tears, hugging her father, even as she immediately refuses. She knows that the added expense would mean further deferring her mother's dream to become a teacher. The support she gets from Max, plus her desire to overcome the obstacles ahead of her strengthen her resolve to get through the rest of her high school years close to home.

The next two years fly by, as Chloe tears through her courses, learning to stand up for herself against the vicious slings and arrows of teenage social drama. She finds her own niche with other like-minded academic achievers, content to fade into the background; neither a social butterfly or an outcast.

Near the start of junior year, she quickly obtains her license and her father surprises her with a new car, thanks to a raise William recently received. Joyce starts making making plans to quit her job at the diner and work on her education degree at the community college.

Fate, however, remembers the life it was denied. Patiently it has waited for the right moment to strike, with cruel precision.

Right down Chloe's spine, in a car crash meant for her father.


"I want this time with you to be my last memory. Do you understand?"

"Yes. I do" Max responded.

"All you have to do is just crank up the IV to eleven."

For three years, Chloe was a prisoner of her own body. And for three years, she forced her parents to become prisoners of obligation, of debt. So many dreams shattered, so many plans put on hold or permanently abandoned. There were days she wanted to give up, nights where she prayed to die in her sleep, if only to stop being such a burden.

But her father always told her to hang on, to grab on to hope as tight as possible, and never let go. And for his sake, his love, she did just that. She learned how to live a limited kind of life, getting around with her wheelchair, and figuring out how to communicate almost exclusively via the Internet. She learned how to detach from her sense of ego, while suffering the indignities of being so helpless and dependent.

That was before she heard the doctors talking about her condition, when they thought she was passed out.

That was before she understood the inevitability of her end. That each and every day she remained alive was little more than wasted effort, good money thrown after bad. She wanted to die, yes, but not out of selfish reasons! Not for herself.

But for her parents.

For her father.

Yes, it would break his heart now, but he was strong. He'd learn to carry on. They were young, or at least young enough to still be able to declare bankruptcy, consolidate their debts, and rebuild a new life.

Something precious, just for the two of them.

Max, her dearest, her most beloved friend, returning to her at long last. That couldn't be a coincidence. It had to mean something. The Universe giving her a means at last to do what she herself was incapable of.

More to the point: the Universe was giving her permission.

"Max?" Chloe asked, trying to keep her voice calm. "I know I laid a lot on you just there, but please, it's okay. I'm an adult. I'm giving you my permission. I can't do this on my own. I would, if I could."

Shit. This is so much to hit her with, all at once. Boom, she suddenly shows up on my door after five years, and after we spend one night...well. It was a hell of a night, together….

It was the first time since the accident she'd actually felt human. Like there was a happily ever after waiting for her. If her father's love gave her the motivation to stay alive, Max's return gave her a reason to actually live life to the fullest of her capabilities!

If only there was time.

If only her fate wasn't an inevitable conclusion, writ in stone.

If only she'd had a fighting chance at happiness.

No doubt, she would have taken it.

"I - I want to help you, Chloe," Max said, her voice choked with emotion. "But I think my help is hurting."

"At least you have a choice!" Chloe replied, trying to keep the hurt out of her voice, the desperate pleading. "When you want to make a decision, you can just do it. "Look at me," she continued. "I'm at the mercy of...everybody!"

She closed her eyes, biting back the bile rising up in her throat, the years of indignity coalescing into a white hot point of agony.

"For once, I want to make my own choice. The most important one of my life."

She opened her eyes again, looked Max dead in the eyes, and softly begged, "Please. Help me, Max."

"Chloe," Max murmured. It wasn't what she said, but the way she said it. Chloe knew she'd convinced her. She was never more certain of having made a correct decision in her - very short, very soon to be over - life.

She looked up towards the ceiling and said, "I'll just drift asleep...dreaming of us here together...forever."

Chloe closed her eyes in anticipation of sweet release, doing her best not to smile. Her final thoughts were of Max, and what would happen.

They won't blame her. Mom and Dad. I know they won't. I mean, they'll know what happened. They'll know she wouldn't have done it unless I asked her to. And none of them will ever speak about it again, but all of them will know this was the right thing to do!

The morphine was making it hard to breathe. But there was no fear in her heart. It was no more unpleasant than falling asleep, after a long, hard run.

She'd earned this. She'd savor what few seconds were still left to her, in their fullness.

"I'm so proud of you for following your dreams," she murmured.

Live. Live for us both, Max.

"Don't forget about me."

"Never!"

As long as you remember me, I'll never actually be dead. Not all the way.

"I love you, Max."

I do love you. I did...love you. A girl has a lot of time to think, when she's stuck on her ass. Think about what might have been. Think about what the people in her life meant to her. Another life. Another us, you and me? Who knows what it would have been like? Except...the best.

"See you….around."

Chloe felt herself slip away as Max said, "Sooner than you think."

And then...nothing.

An infinitesimally small eternity passed. Chloe swore she could have lived a hundred million lives in the time it took for awareness to return to her, in the heartbeat span between life and death. One minute, she was there, lying in the bed…

...the next...

Chloe is free!

She can breathe deeply, even though she no longer actually needs to. Nothing hurts! Everything is so easy and light.

Well, maybe not everything. She looks over towards Max, head bowed, sobbing soft tears of guilt. She reaches out, knowing already that she'll never make physical contact, but desperately hoping beyond hope that somehow, Max will feel her presence; that she'll know that everything is fine. The right decision was made.

Chloe didn't know what would come next, but there was no fear in her at all.

Just...curiosity.

Curiosity about…

"Wait, who...who are you?" she asks, of the strange, gaunt blond man leaning against the door to the living room as he smirks at her. At his feet stands a mutt of a junkyard dog.

She doesn't recognize either of them.

"H-holy shit. Are you Death, dude?"

The older man laughs unkindly, taking a long slow drag from his cigarette and murmurs, "Nope. Believe me, Death's a Lady who's got her work cut out for her. I mean, sure, yeah, sometimes she sub-contracts out, lets me pick up a little scratch here and there. Especially if I ask Her real nice, to let me go back home and take care of it on Her behalf. But...nah. Not today. No. Today kid, you're about to get really damn lucky."

Chloe blinked. Uncertainty wells up in the back of her mind. This isn't what she expected. Instinctively, she knows something is wrong. Not a threat, or danger.

But something is definitely wrong. She knows that much now, even if she can't explain why.

"That feeling in the back of your brain is on account of you totally fucking up," The Man-Who-Would-Be-Death tells her. "And I gotta hand it to you, even I didn't see it coming, and I see a lot of things, these days."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Chloe asks, suddenly remember what anger is, as notes of it rise up to her voice.

"Means you shoulda spent time thinking about….awww….fuck it. Nah. Even you couldn't have guessed what was gonna happen." The man shrugs languidly and then motions over to Max. "But good thing for you, kid, you got an angel. Your own personal guardian angel."

Chloe turns back, peering over towards Max, as she stops crying. Watches as she reaches over and grabs the photo album the two of them were looking through, minutes earlier. She grabs one photo in particular, narrows her eyes, focusing on it intently.

There is a pulse. A tone. A flux in the fabric of reality. Chloe can feel it, down to her non-existent bones. Like a whale feels a low, keening disturbance in the ocean.

"What is she doing?" she asks. Frightened now.

The man takes another long drag and then carelessly flicks his cigarette away. "What she's best at. Saving your ass. Over and over, and over again. Max and Chloe. Choe and Max."

"Saving me? How?"

He opens his mouth, but then thinks better of it, grinning fiendishly. "There's no time left to explain it. And besides, you'll never remember, on account of you not existing anymore." He turns away from her, and mumbles to himself, "Although...gotta wonder how they knew. Told me it would all work out...lo and behold, it kinda did."

"What?!" Chloe is rooted to the spot, as panic overtakes her. She thought dying would have prepared her for oblivion, but now, she is so terribly frightened!

"I don't want to die...not again! Not…"

And then Max was gone.

Taking an entire universe with her in her wake.


"Chloe?! What are you doing?"

A hand reached out, grabbing Chloe's wrist before she could toss the keys out into the yard.

Chloe frowned, and tried to jerk her hand back, hissing, "What were you doing? Telling my Mom she called the wrong number?"

Max didn't cringe, nor did she relent.

"Look, it's just a practical joke, okay? Harmless, fun, c'mon. Don't be a pill, Max!"

Don't stop me, Max. Damnit, don't! Please don't! I'm begging you, this is my one and only chance!

"Chloe...you can't. I don't have time to explain, and I don't understand how this is even happening, but if you're trying to save your Dad from dying today...you can't! I have to stop you!"

Thunderstruck didn't do justice to how Chloe felt.

What?! How...how could she know? What does it even mean….oh shit.

"Fuck! Do you have time powers in this universe, too? Have you always had them? God damn!" Chloe hissed, in low, angry tones. She took some perverse pleasure in the reaction that got from Max, the way she went white as a sheet.

"Max, what could be so important? I don't know why you didn't use your powers to save him before, and I sure as fuck don't understand why you're trying to stop me now!"

"I did! I came back in time to try and save him! I swear! And all of the sudden, you started helping me, and this is….I still don't believe it! This is crazy! But….arrrg! I don't have time. Chloe! You have to listen to me! You have to believe me, okay? I've seen what happens. This isn't going to end the way you think it does!"

"Oh yeah? How does it end? With my Dad alive? What's so bad about that?!"

"Your Dad will live, but you're gonna die!"

Chloe felt her arm drop, her grip on the keys slacken, though they didn't drop out of her hand.

"What...what does that mean?"

"It means that you get into an accident two years from now. It completely cripples you! And when we finally meet up again, you're dying. And you...you ask me to…"

The keys chirped, interrupting their conversation.

As one, Chloe and Max looked over towards William.

"There's where my keys ended up. Chloe, what are you doing with them?"

"I - I...uh...um."

Max smoothly interceded, "We were just grabbing them to give to you. I heard you talking to Joyce, that you have to go and pick her up."

"Oh. Well, isn't that nice?" William said with a smile. There was a twinkle in his eyes, something that said that he didn't fully believe them, but didn't see any reason to make it unpleasant.

Chloe surrendered the keys, trying not to look like a deer caught in headlights, and failing miserably.

"Okay girls, I'll be back soon. In the meantime, no Chloe and Max wine tasting, alright? Your Mother will be making her famous salmon. See you soon!"

Chloe helplessly watched as her father started to walk towards the door.

No! Oh God! No, please, no! Don't let it end like this!

Everything was going by, far too fast. Another few seconds, and she'd lose her last chance forever.

Chloe ran across the living room, almost tackling her father as she cried out, "Daddy! Wait!"

She flung her arms around him and hugged him fiercely, desperately afraid to let go.

"Huh? Oh my goodness, Chloe? Are you okay?"

No. I am not fucking okay, Dad. I don't want to let you go. I don't have to let you go. Just a minute, just a few seconds more, and maybe that'll be enough. Enough to make a difference, enough to keep you alive!

She looked up into his eyes, warm and gentle. Eyes she'd desperately tried to hang on to the memory of for the past ten years. There were a million questions she wanted to ask, and a hundred billion things she wanted to say.

But it was too late.

She knew that now.

It was too late.

For every possible path...except one.

She hugged him tightly one last time and lied, "F-fine. I'm fine! What...can't a daughter say goodbye to her father?"

"Goodbye? Ha! Don't make it sound like you're never going to see me again."

It took a supreme effort of will for Chloe to keep from bursting into tears of inconsolable grief.

"Stay safe, okay?" Chloe said, knowing how useless the advice would ultimately prove. "And...I love you. I love you, Dad."

She tried to communicate so many things unspoken through her gaze alone. So many words that would never be uttered, so many conversations never to be had. It wouldn't ever be enough, but she would have to make this moment last a lifetime.

"Heh...awwww, kitten. I love you too, Chloe," William said, returning the hug, before letting go. He then added, "But that's still a no on the wine! At least wait until you're sixteen, then maybe we'll talk."

Chloe stood there, unable to move as she helplessly watched the smiling face of her father vanish. And in another second, the door behind him closed.

He was gone. Again.

Forever.

"Chloe?" Max asked.

She fell to her hands and knees, closed her eyes, and started to sob.

"Chloe. I...I'm so sorry. I know it doesn't feel like it, but you did the right thing. It's going to be better. I promise."

"It's not...it's not fair! It's not fair….it's not."

Chloe clutched at her chest, as failure burned through her heart, fracturing it to the point where she wished she could die. And for a moment, she so fervently prayed that the end would come that she felt as if she came close; literally, willing herself to stop existing.

But one pure, singular thought rose up, unbidden, keeping her anchored.

"I got to say goodbye."

"What?"

"I….I got to say goodbye, Max."

She struggled to rise up to her feet, grateful for Max's help. The sobs still ripped through her but they dissipate quicker than she thought possible, as she spoke.

"Never...I never got to say goodbye. Oh fuck. Didn't realize how much that was eating me alive, Max. Ten years, ten long, shitty years, and I never got to say goodbye to him. And I just did . My very last words to him: I said goodbye. And...I love you."

Max put two and two together on the spot. "Ten years. Chloe, what are you saying? What...what year are you from?"

Chloe laughed once. "2018. You?"

"20….2013," Max said with reluctant caution, still clearly having difficulty believing that this was happening.

"Wow. Shit. I really got the advantage here, huh?"

Max suddenly grabbed her arms, "Chloe, if you're from the future, I need you to tell me what's going to happen! Where's Rachel Amber? What's happening with Nathan Prescott? Do we ever figure out what the hell the Dark Room is? Or what happened to Kate?!"

None of it made sense to Chloe. How would Max even know about the shit with Nathan and Jefferson if she died in the bathroom before it all came out?

The fuck? How badly did I screw things up? Is Max...is she from an alternate timeline? What the hell is going to happen now?

Chloe opened her mouth to start and explain, but halted. There was a tug at the back of her mind. A thin, invisible cord pulling at her, slowly but surely. She'd gone through this enough times now, that she understood when she was being 'recalled'. She had a few seconds at best; what could she tell her? What would help?

An image flashed in her mind; a desolate, dusty trailer in Nevada. A desperate, pathetic life spent mourning over Max, another Max, who also twisted the world with time powers.

The destruction of Arcadia Bay.

The pieces snapped together with ferocious intensity, and in a single moment, Chloe knew exactly what it is was she needed to tell her.

Even though it could mean that Chloe could die.

Maybe? Maybe not.

Things were so confused, so tangled up now, but she had a single chance to try and stop this Max from making a terrible mistake. One that was made five years and another universe ago.

"Max!" Chloe yelled, grabbing her friends hands in her own. "I don't have any time left. Listen to me, please! If the day ever comes where you have to make a choice, where you have to choose between saving my life, or everyone in Arcadia Bay, you let me go, okay!? You let me go! I'm not worth it. Whatever's gonna happen, you let it happen!"

"What do you mean, Chloe? What are you talking about...are….are you talking about the tornado? Does this have something to do with the tornado? Chloe...Chloe!? What's going to happen in the future?!"

Chloe felt the whiplash in her soul as she was unceremoniously yanked out of the past.


"And Max Caulfield? Don't you forget about me!"

"Never."

And so, it'd come to this.

Chloe, the one from the future, told her something like this was going to happen. Maybe not the exact details, maybe not when and where and how, but she knew.

Somehow, she knew.

Max was still trying to puzzle it out; she'd made very cautious and circumspect inquiries to Chloe after she returned from 2008, and there was no sign that her friend possessed time powers of her own, nor had any memory of talking to her about it on the day William died.

This makes no sense! How can I remember this, but Chloe doesn't? Does that mean she's really from the future? Maybe...maybe it's from an alternate timeline, a future that went away after I destroyed the picture. But...but that doesn't make sense either!

All the same, it gave her a curious sense of hope; hope that despite the fact that Chloe was asking - no, begging! - her to let her die in the bathroom, back in the eternity that was Monday morning, she might actually somehow survive.

Because how else could she come all the way from 2018?!

Regardless, the situation was grim. Every cell in her brain was telling her that Chloe was right, that there were thousands of lives at stake, that if the tornado made it to the center of town, the devastation would be catastrophic.

But her heart?

Oh God. It would be breaking, if there were any pieces left to fracture.

It was unfair: supremely, ultimately, entirely unfair. Chloe Price was brilliant. Gifted. Kind and loving, and all the Universe had done was take and take and take from her. Her father. Rachel Amber. Blackwell. And now, her own life.

And that was all before the confusion of Max's own personal feelings were thrown into the mix.

Did we actually kiss? Like, real, full, right on the mouth? And that wasn't for the first time, either.

Max mourned. Not just for Chloe, and for the terrible fate that was certain to befall, but for herself as well. For the relationship they might have ended up sharing together.

The one beyond mere friendship.

But now a choice starred her hard in the face. A terrible binary equation. Save the Bay, or Chloe. Left or right, one or zero, white or black. There was no room in between.

But Max couldn't meekly accept that.

There had to be a way. A third option.

There's always another choice!

What that way might be didn't occur to her until she'd jump back into the picture. When she stood there, hiding away in the stall, feeling dumb, and useless, and guilty. When she heard Nathan walk into the bathroom.

When she knew what was coming.

She felt herself stuck on a fulcrum point; on the middle of a seesaw that demanded to tip over, one way or the other. But at the last second, Max chose to jump off, jump forward. Move ahead in a third dimensional fashion, away and out of her two dimensional dilemma.

Hers wasn't a sacrifice bourn of deeply pondered intent or noble motivation. It was a sudden, instinctive thing, built of foolish bravado and impulse. A desperate need to do something, anything. Anything at all, except stand there and wait for her best friend to die!

And yet, in that panicked moment of action, there was a serenity about it. A certainty. Max didn't intend to get shot, but for the briefest of moments, yes. The thought had occurred to her, that she might.

Her fate was sealed with the sharp crack of gunfire.

Oh well. Too late to take it back now.

She'd tried, of course. But for some reason, her powers had abandoned her. Perhaps it was the shock and pain making it too difficult to focus. Maybe it was a subconscious acceptance that this was the way things needed to be.

"Oh God...oh, Jesus fucking...h...hey! Help! Somebody help! Please! He shot someone…"

Max looked up, struggling to speak. Getting shot hurt a lot worse than she imagined, but the pain wasn't as debilitating as she expected.

The blood loss, on the other hand…

"M-Max? Max Caulfield?!"

"Chloe…I'm so sorry." Max said, reaching up to cup her friend's face. She could feel the blunette's warm flesh against her rapidly chilling fingertips. She thought of all the days and nights they'd never get to share together. And all the days and nights she wasted, refusing out of guilt and shame to stay in touch with Chloe over the past five years.

Wasted so much time. Time I'll never get back.

She favored Chloe with a sad, pained smile, thinking about what was gone, and what would never be. There was only this singular moment in the present left between them.

"Don't….don't talk. Just lie still okay?! Lie still and...hey help! Help! HELP!"

Chloe screamed, her voice rising to a shrill pitch as she attempted to clamber to her feet. With every ounce of strength left to muster, Max reached out and gripped her wrist.

This is it. Don't have much time left. What do I tell her? Why did I do it? Why did I...do this?

The answer came to her immediately.

Because one of us deserved it more. Because….like the the Chloe in the other timeline said: only one of us actually had the opportunity to choose: life, or death.

And I chose life….for Chloe!

"Too late…" Max hissed out, before spitting out a mouthful of blood. "S'okay though. 'm happy...you survived." She tried to laugh, obviously thinking better of it as her face contorted into a mask of pain. "All that lost time. Five years. It's my fault. But...you're alive. You're still alive. All that matters."

It was getting harder to breathe. Hard to see. The bathroom floor was cold as ice.

"It's okay, it's okay! I promise...don't….now's not the time to talk about it." Chloe insisted, gripping her hand, trying to speak as soothingly as possible. "You're gonna pull through this, okay? You're gonna survive! And then you can spend the rest of your life apologizing to me." She gave a strangled, abortive laugh, and then shook her head. Her voice was wet and rough with agony as she said, "No...no, if you make it, you never have to say a single fucking sorry ever again! So please hang on, Max. I'm gonna get help, but you have to hang on!"

It was getting harder to hold out. Too hard. She wasn't going to make it. But that's okay. This was good. She'd had a good life, and this was going to be a good death.

She was going to die. But she'd gladly do so now, if it meant that Chloe Price could…

"Live."

Chloe nodded with frenetic, disjointed energy, as she tried again to move towards the door.

"You're going to live. I promise!"

Oh God. Chloe. Look at you. Look at us. You're going to do such...such amazing things! But you have to move on.

"No." Max sighed softly, as she let her hand drop to the ground.

She could barely see. Chloe's face, her beautiful features, her azure hair, the sharp cut of her nose and chin. They would all be be the very last things she took with her to the grave.

Gathering up the last few sparks of life left in her broken frame, she pushed them all out into a single phrase. A dying wish. A fervent command. A pleading entreaty.

"Live, Chloe. Just...live."

for the both of us.

And with that, Max pulled her lips into a small, hope filled smile, the last action of her short, but eventful life.

She was gone before the death rattle escaped her lungs.


A/N: And so we come full circle...

I have to admit, this was a hard chapter to write, in getting the words to come out, but I also had a lot of fun with it when I got the momentum rolling. The mental image of Max from the game being out-smarted by a Chloe from the future actually prompted a little giggle from me as I was first writing it.

So one more official chapter left to go, and then that's that. I still need to write that alternate ending, and post it as a ninth chapter, but I'll get more into that next time.

I am continuing to heal. I managed to get through my first week back to work, and it was difficult but not nearly as bad as I was anticipating. I seem to have turned corner, and let me tell it, it is a massive relief. As well as a major wake up call. The stand/sit desk I bought with my Kofi money is making a huge difference.

Anyhow, have a nice rest of the weekend folks. If you're in the US, make sure to vote on Tuesday! And if you happen to live in Massachusetts, I kindly implore you to vote yes on all the state ballot questions, but at the very least, PLEASE vote Yes on Question 3...I'd really like to keep my civil rights intact.

Have a great day!