Chloe was standing on the ledge in front of the lighthouse, the skies suddenly consumed by darkness and wind. There she was, witnessing the chaotic storm slowly rip apart, piece by piece, the cityscape of what was the picturesque Arcadia Bay that mirrored the image hanging on Hernandez hallway. Horrified, she found herself unable to move, only able to move her face. She saw she was strapped to a high tech wheelchair. She soon realised she wasn't alone. On the bench behind her, where she had spent so many afternoons watching the sunset with Rachel- and now Max, a familiar and sad sight. Her father, William, who was calmly and patiently observing how Chloe was struggling to move.

"Dad? Wha- help me! Please!" She was grunting; anxious sweat creeped into her forehead. It was no use. She couldn't feel any part of her body neck down, let alone get it to move.

"I'm so sorry Chloe."

The sound of Max's voice should have been comforting, had it not been for the overarching tone of remorse it had. The storm was getting larger, and the rain was pelting Chloe's face like tiny water darts. Max stood behind William, trying to avoid the sight of Chloe by staring at the sight of the wreckage.

"What the fuck is going on?"

"I don't know. This isn't the right-! Th-this never happened. William died! I made sure of it-"

"What?" But before the exclamation could leave Chloe, she heard a gasp not too far away. A beautiful girl wearing flannel emerged from the shadows.

"Chloe! Oh my god, what is this?" Rachel came running up from out of nowhere, rushing to her side. Rachel looked as if she had been playing in the dirt, head to toe covered in mud.

"Rachel..why are you...you can walk?" She looked at her own two legs and seemed surprised.

"Whoa, I guess I can now. Yuck..." She saw how filthy she was.

"Wait, why the fuck are we here?" She caught a sight of William, who at this point still said nothing. All she could do was cover her mouth and point.

"Is..is that your dad?" She barely whispered. At this, William shot a loving look at Chloe, then at Rachel, then at Max. He turned around and put a hand on her shoulder.

"Take care of them." He gave her a knowing nod.

"It had to be this way. No one's fault. I love you." He said it to no one in particular, peering in the direction of the Two Whale's diner fervently. He closed his eyes and exhaled. Then, without warning, he casually walked off the edge of the cliff, towards the full spectacle of the storm's destruction. A raven appeared in the distance, a sinister caw blending into the sound of thunder.

"Dad!" Chloe screamed as she watched her father disappear into the misty air below.

—

She woke up screaming, face wet with tears. Chloe found Max and Rachel wrapped around her like protective shields. Both of them were sniffling too.

They had dozed off, apparently. But this was no ordinary "Dad" dream.

"Were you guys...?"

"Mhmm." A buzzing sob from Max replied.

"I have no idea what just happened. Did we just-"

"Appear in the same dream? Yeah?" Max refused to emerge from the pillow that was covering her face.

"Holy shit." Chloe was rubbing her temples, trying to remember exactly how this reunion with her father went.

"I know." Max knew it was more than a dream. It was a visit from an alternate timeline. Another reminder of what would go down if she didn't get it right. A recall to the most fucked up timeline she had gotten herself into. She thought she would never have to see the sight of Chloe like that again. Helpless and confined. No blue hair. No tattoos.

The three of them laid there quietly for a few minutes, each trying to process.

"Was...was I dead?" Rachel spoke first. She sounded so afraid. Felt so childish, thinking of all the times she narrowly escaped death. In this...whatever it was, she had felt being mounded in the ground. She had felt her own mortality leave her body, but then she had suddenly appeared at the lighthouse, only to see Chloe in one of those Stephen Hawking's style contraptions.

"Max. Please. What do you know?" Chloe had always had dreams about William- always ending with him dying of having some morbid undertone. She thought it was her emo brain's way of dealing with his absence. But he had spoken to Max. Touched her. He barely acknowledged Chloe. That had never been the case. And she had never ever been unable to move.

"Chloe, I never wanted you to know. But, in one rewind...I went back to the day William died. I thought I could make your future better...I thought I could prevent all of this by giving you a happier childhood. Make it last a bit longer, but..."

Max had desperately hoped that this day would never come, so of course, it came.

"You got in an accident instead. You were paralysed. You lost all feeling neck down. You asked me to kill you. The bills...your parents couldn't afford it. You wanted to spare them...you were going to die anyways. And Rachel was already..." Max barely could understand what she was saying, bawling her eyes out into the pillow between sentences. But the look at Chloe and Rachel's shocked faces showed that they understood. More than that, they seemed to comprehend the meaning of it all. Chloe pet Max's head.

"Hey, Mad Max. There, there.." she pulled Max into a hug, where she started calming down, resting on Chloe's chest. Chloe stroked her head, combing her hair through her fingers, each nail painted with a faded maroon. She was holding on to her body securely, resting her lips on her forehead. Rachel put her hand on Max's shoulder.

"You're the real thing. You really did go back in time."

"That's what I have been saying!" Chloe comically reiterated. Max softly chuckled.

"It took me so many tries...I think this is the only time I've managed to save Rachel." All the cards were down now. This dream surely was a sign. The three of them were bonded together by it. Before she even said, Rachel knew it to be true.

"Hey. None of that matters now. You're good. You're my hero. Our hero." Chloe couldn't have imagined this, but she knew herself well enough to know- if she had been stuck in that body, she probably would've asked someone to just end it. She had always felt so damn guilty about how poor her family was...but she had prided herself by pulling her own weight and not having expensive tastes. Just the few drug related vices. But to have her dad back..god, what she would've given to have him back...but then Rachel also would've disappeared off the face of the earth, and it was unbearable to think that as well. She recalled a passage she once read about karmic and natural imbalances equaling themselves out. Why is it always a sacrifice?

"My dad...he was talking about this, wasn't he? He had to die...for me to have a fighting chance. A chance at life?" At this, Chloe broke into her own silent tears, trying to hide it by pulling her beanie down onto her eyes. Rachel hugged her from behind, kissing her cheek, giving her a hug that cocooned Max as well.

After all the tears subsided, there was a calm. The expelled reaction made analysing the dream so much easier.

"So, that's what we are dealing with?" Chloe said this more like a statement than question. The storm was replaying over and over in her brain like a nightmarish Vine.

"Yep."

"At least now me and Chloe have a better idea of what we are up against."

—

This new motivation spurred the three to speed into action. Chloe took off to the printers after designing a jazzy leaflet warning people about the storm. She would have to make a second run later on that week. Her postering skills would come in handy, armed with glue paste, driving around like a informational blizzard. Max left to have her meeting with Kate, and Rachel was left on the bed, having a text battle with Juliet on why she should help her spread unverifiable news.

After being ignored for a few minutes, Juliet said she would only include it in passing during one of her Miss Arcadia replies.

"I have a question about whether the weather is good for falling in love, and this'll be a laugh."

"Fine. It's a start. Watch out for tomorrow night. You'll see."

All she got back was a text that had two equal signs. Frustrated, she got Chloe's computer to search up who this "Kenny" was. Rachel wasn't a exemplary student for nothing. She knew research, and started digging in the vast realm of the internet for answers.

The listings for things or people named "Kenny" in Arcadia Bay was fortunately short. This was probably one of the few times when living in a small town had its perks.

There was a "Kenny Pemberton" who owned a bed and breakfast on the edge of town, and another "Kenneth Fleming", a real estate agent who managed most of the property in the city. She knew the name- Fleming was the same guy who sold the Ambers their house. Her father was good friends with him, and he often came to their house to share a nightcap with her dad. Putting her stalking skills into use (which she hadn't had to use since she became friends with Chloe), she didn't think it was Kenneth. Anyone who was friendly with the DA didn't seem trustworthy.

Don't let your own biases get the best of you.

After a while of Facebook raiding, even Twitter and LinkedIn scanning, Rachel uncovered that Kenny P. had been a war veteran too.

"Bingo." She texted Chloe and Max. Feeling triumphant, she rested her eyes. They were fried from all the digital scrutiny. She then got up to have a staring contest with the wheelchair and the crutches.

Okay, Amber. You're gonna fucking walk.

She looked at her legs, which still get weak, but had more sensation than before. The dream had kickstarted something in them.

She quoted one of her favourite female protagonists.

"Wiggle your big toe."

She wanted so hard to have motivational music in the back. She imagined "Eye of the Tiger" playing in her head. She drilled her eyes into her big toe, feeling what would have been vibrations if her dumb legs were working properly. She was concentrating so hard she though her brain might explode. After half an hour, her toe still didn't move. Not even a little bit. But she did manage to achieve something else.

The small part of the bedsheet she was lying on had spontaneously burst into flame.