"Max?" Joyce's voice called out, the small brunette lifting her head dismally to meet the older blonde's gaze, "Can you come here for a moment, sweetie?".

Max didn't want to move, she wanted to stay put on the couch and cry, pull her knees up to her chest and make the world disappear. It hadn't been an easy week for Max… or Joyce and David. With Chloe's death, the whole world just seemed to be covered in a black and white filter, everything was just drained of color. Everything felt warped at the edges like it did when reality was falling apart when Max tried to skip through time, but now… it was just reality.

"What is it, Joyce?" she asked, her voice cold and sharp.

The older woman wasn't offended, she understood the girl's pain well and couldn't even begin to understand how it must have felt to watch helplessly as her best friend was shot down in front of her. "I found something… I, I think you should see it".

But Max didn't want to.

She'd seen enough things that caused her pain to last a lifetime. Death, death again, so much death, pain, and suffering… she couldn't handle seeing the face of her dead best friend knowing that she was responsible and had the chance to save her. But… Max knew she had to get up and see what Joyce wanted to present to her, but part of her felt physically unable to move, get up or talk. She wanted to shut down and remain numb… but for Joyce's sake, and the sake of her own sanity, Max pushed herself to her feet and wandered over to the older woman who had another box filled with Chloe's belongings set out on the table, a letter clutched in her hands.

Max felt her feet get heavier the closer she got. Oh, she couldn't go through with this again, the first box had nearly killed her, she cried to the point where she caused herself to pass out. It wasn't fun, but here she was taking the small strip of paper Joyce was handing to her.

"A letter?" she asked. She'd already read the hundreds of letters Chloe had left her during the 5 years they were apart, and assumed that was it, but… looks like there was one more to deal the last blow.

Joyce nods. "It musta fallen out of your bag last time you were here. I'd found it in her sheets while I was clean upstairs,".

In her bag? Max had basically ignored her bag, only taking it with her to Joyce's house to return William's camera, unable to live with it in her possession. How could she have missed it?

But then again this week had been a haze of depression and disassociation, so Max didn't blame herself too much.

The letter was new… too new to be from the past 5 years. Chloe's neat handwriting was on the front, clearly spelling out Max's name in bold letters.

"I… I had wanted to open it, but something told me that this letter was special. Now, you don't have to share what she wrote, just… just know that she really loved you, Max".

That was the understatement of Max's life, Chloe had literally sacrificed herself so that Max wouldn't have to live with the burden of letting thousands of people die. It wasn't really worth it in the long run, as much as it pained her to admit, Max would sacrifice a thousand towns just to get Chloe back. But this was all she had left of the blue-haired girl she loved.

A letter.

"Go on and open it," Joyce coaxed, seeing the drawn out, distant look in the girl's eyes.

Max blinked and nodded, seeming to just, let herself sink to the floor and cross her legs. It was so new, maybe… a few days old at the most. There are water stains on the paper, smearing the ink slightly, but Max didn't mind. She opened it slowly, nervous even though she knew it was just a letter, but it was what was inside that frightened her.

Joyce gave the girl space, not wanting to hover or invade her privacy.

Max hardly noticed, she just carefully tore open the letter and took out the contents.

A single sheet of paper, and a Polaroid.

The Polaroid.

The fucking butterfly photo, the photo that started it all off.

How was it here? She'd destroyed it after Chloe got shot, this being the only photo of the damned thing in existence. Unless… there were two. After all, Max did take a picture of the butterfly twice, so maybe time fucked up and made a copy. She'd given one photo to Chloe, and then kept another in her journal… so maybe; and considering everything she'd been through; it wasn't that difficult to believe.

Finally pulling herself together, the smaller girl opened the letter, carefully running her fingers over the water stained paper and running ink, finding a smile begin to grace her lips.

It doesn't exactly last though, as Max began to read what Chloe had written, holding back a gasp when she saw the date.

October 11, 2013

That… wasn't possible, was it? Chloe… Chloe died on the 7th, she never saw Max again, she died, feeling alone and abandoned, she-

Max shook her head and continued reading:

-Max

On the off chance that you're reading this… it means I'm dead. Ain't that a cliche… but seriously. I had a feeling it would come down to this… to me or the town, so I decided to write something and slip it into your bag. Like I said before, you have this letter, I'm dead. I don't blame you for your choice. I just wish we could have had a little more time together. I'm writing this while you're asleep in my room, probably off in another timeline fixing the mess I made. I… I really want to hold you right now, make you feel safe. I can see the pain in your face, Max… whatever he did. I can see the marks on your wrists and smell that bastard's cologne and whiskey. It makes me what to vomit and go kill him myself, but I know you have this handled, and even if I'm not there with you, I know you're going to bring him and Nathan down. You'll get Rachel justice too, and Kate. and you too. You deserve some peace of mind after this hella insane week.

I've been wanting to tell you this for so long, Max. And you gotta understand that this isn't just because you're helping me or anything… I'm really glad you came back. You're the best part of my life, Max. You're everything I lived for.

I love you, like, love love you.

Like, I actually want to elope and get married to you.

That wasn't a joke.

Hell, I don't even know if you like me the same way, And even if you don't, you'll still live on in my memories, and I'll live on in yours.

Fuck I'm getting mushy now… should probably stop smoking and get to bed… the storm is getting worse out there. I hope mom is okay.

Take care of yourself alright? I know you, and I know how you get… so don't go listening to any of that indie shit that you can relate to (you know I'm talking about Coldplay you nerd).

But seriously, don't fall down the same rabbit hole I did. Your life is still yours, Max.

And if you can't live it for yourself… live it for me.

I love you… and who knows.

Maybe we'll meet again.

Destaney has a weird way of bringing people together.

Tell mom I love her, and tell David to eat a bag of dicks.

And Max…

Don't forget about me.

Your Partner in Time:

Chloe Price

Max didn't even realize she was crying until she choked on a sob, barely able to hold it back. "Oh, Chloe," she muttered, her hands trembling as she held the paper closer to her chest, "How could i forget you when I'm still in love with you?".

Chloe must have taken the second butterfly photo from Max's journal as she slept, a memento of their time together… or, a backup plan.

Sniffling and wiping away her tears, Max picked up the photo and smiled, turning it over and seeing Chloe's handwriting on the back.

"Just in Case"