A/N: This story will have a couple of chapters mentioning Implied/Referenced Abuse and Implied/Referenced Self-harm. No details or description.

"C'mon Max, smile for the camera!" her dad said, as if she didn't already have the biggest grin she could muster on her face. Could he tell it was forced?

The flash left spots in her eyes for a moment, though they quickly passed. Traveling this way always made the lights brighter, blinding to the point of pain.

Greasy stadium food wafting up made her remember that she needed to eat, but she pushed that thought aside. Food would wait for another time.

Players in the rink down below zoomed around, and the patrons in the stands maneuvered quickly to their seats. This was one of her favorite days. Full of memories. It's good she had a picture to remember it by, and for other reasons.

No one paid her any attention now, not even her dad. They noticed nothing different, which is what she expected.

It was time for a test. If it worked, she could stop running.

She needed to stop.

-Timeline #0

Bright lights were all Max Caulfield could see.

Lights so piercing that she couldn't stand to keep her eyes open for more than a moment. They drilled into her skull like knives and muddled her thoughts, making it difficult to comprehend anything through the spots in her vision.

To her left she heard various machines; a constant and rhythmic beep beep that reminded Max of her time in the hospital when she was young. She remembered that she had swallowed her stuffed teddy bear's eye and been rushed into the ER. It was the only time she had ever really spent any significant period in a hospital. Though there were no serious problems, it left an impact on Max; she acted with more care after that.

The next thing that hit her was the smell, and while she expected a sickening waft of disinfectant and heavy-duty cleaner, what came to her instead was the smell of some greasy fast food—a burger, probably. It wasn't until she heard a slight shuffling from somewhere near her she realized that she wasn't alone.

It took a few more tries to force her eyes open, and it was only when she finally overcame those blinding ceiling lights, that she could lean up to take proper stock of the room.

It was a fine day outside, as far as the light streaking through the curtains could tell. It also meant that it couldn't have been particularly late. The trees outside were in the process of losing their leaves and had yet to show the bare branches that come with winter. The door to the hallway was open, showing doctors and nurses rushing by, busy at work.

In the room's corner was a young woman—she couldn't have been more than twenty-five—with blue hair, picking at a burger. The girl's muscles were visible through her tank top—F*CK OFF it said—and Max could see that she had a detailed tattoo sleeve that ran the length of her right arm. Long vines entwined with several roses and a skull. Max didn't recognize her.

Even though the girl had her head down, Max could faintly make out some soft sounds—crying?—coming from her. She hadn't seen that Max had woken up yet, which was fortunate. Awkward conversations with strangers was never Max's strong suit, especially if they caught her off guard. Her shyness usually lead to responses filled with silent stares and soft stammering, which tended to push people off.

Who was this person? What should she say?

"Uh... Hi," Max squeaked out, deciding that it would be better to just say something and take the initiative, instead of just creepily staring at this strange girl.

Before she can think of something more concrete to say, the stranger let out a gasp and rushed up to Max, embracing her with all the force she could muster. Max couldn't talk under the strength of this girl's hug—not that she would know what to say anyway—and with her face in Max's shoulder and the general disorientation, Max almost didn't hear what she said.

"Thank fuck you're awake! I was so worried about you." The girl let go of Max to look her in the eyes. Seeing her up close revealed tear streaks around her reddened face. That, along with the scratchy roughness in her voice told Max that she had to have been crying for hours at least. It made Max's heart ache; she hated seeing this girl like this. Even if she was a stranger.

"We all were—really. But look!" the girl choked out, and Max's gaze followed the hand pointing out towards the sunlight. "Turns out there was nothing to worry about anyway. No big storm or whatever you saw."

The girl's large, toothy smile made it clear that this is great news, but it quickly died as Max stared blankly at her. What did she mean by 'big storm'? Was Max worried about something? She pointed outside, so it probably wasn't a metaphor.

More staring. She was good at that.

"Hey... Max? Everything alright?"

It wasn't. Waking up in a hospital room with no idea what day it was, why you were in there, or any clue as to the identity of the very touchy woman giving grabbing you is bound to make one be definitely not alright.

Max was finding it difficult to think. She didn't know this girl. She didn't know where she was—other than 'a hospital', which isn't very helpful. And most annoying was this terrible headache that she only just realized she had. Maybe that had something to do with what was wrong.

The entire situation was overwhelming her. She didn't want to upset this girl any more than she already was, but at this point, anything was better than just another blank stare. She should probably know who this person was, but her mind couldn't call up anything at all.

"I'm really sorry..." Max rasped. It was hard to speak. "Who are you? I don't really know what's going on. Do we know each other?"

That was the wrong thing to say. The blue-haired girl clammed up, eyes wide. Her face rotated through countless emotions too fast to see until she settled on one. Max couldn't believe that she could have any more tears after how long she must have been crying, but a few began to streak down her reddened face all the same. She tried unsuccessfully to hold them back, and it almost made Max want to cry herself. Staying in her confused calm seems inappropriate when this girl was so full of emotion.

The girl opened her mouth a few times, looking for the right response. After several moments, she found it, and her voice came out as a choke through the tears.

"FUCK!"

Her yell rang through the room and into the hallway outside, causing several of the nurses to slow and look in. None of them made any move towards the girl as she turned and stomped out, muttering something under her breath that Max couldn't quite make out. She was gone in a moment, out of Max's sight when she rounded the corner at almost a jog. With the interruption gone, everyone outside continued back to their work.

No one else came in.

•••

Max spent the next while waiting. The hospital room was unfortunately fairly bare in terms of things to do, which meant it didn't take long for Max to bore. Could they not afford a TV? She could do with a book at least. The only interesting thing about the room was the small vase of daisies on her bedside. She didn't notice it earlier; she was too focused on her other side where the strange girl sat. She reached over to see them closely. Real daisies. No card.

Luckily the wait didn't seem too long, even though the clock said it had been a little over an hour when the doctor arrived. He was a short, skinny man who apologized for the wait and introduced himself as Doctor Hamlin. He drew together every word he spoke, as if trying to force every sentence out while taking no breaths. His rushed speech was difficult to understand through Max's headache. Apparently, the commotion from earlier was enough to let him know that Max was awake, though with how loud that yell seemed, Max was sure the entire hospital knew at this point.

The doctor gets right to business. Typical questions they probably always ask.

How are you? Fine.

How do you feel? Confused.

Does anything hurt? My head.

Dr. Hamlin nodded at that last one. He explained that she had a serious seizure several days ago and has been mostly unconscious since then. Small moments of lucidity is all. Some temporary loss of memory isn't unusual for something this serious, he said, and hopefully everything will return soon.

Hopefully. A nicer way of saying 'We don't know'. Max understood. She was always somewhat of an optimist, trying to look at the positive side and hoping that things would turn out all right if she had tried everything she could. In this situation though, she felt it was more luck than hope. Most people don't see the difference.

The doctor was still talking. He also let her know that her parents were in town, staying at a nearby hotel, and have already been told that she's awake. She'll need to stay for a few more days at least, if only to make sure that no undetected problems arise. Or that it doesn't happen again, of course.

It's a lot of info for Max to take in at once, so she just nodded at everything he says, storing it away for later. She still focused her on that girl from earlier. Though she hasn't come back yet, Max was sure she would. If she cared enough to sit and wait by her bed, no idea when Max would wake, she would care enough to come back.

Hopefully.

Apparently whatever the doctor said that Max didn't hear was the end of his spiel. All she took from it was '...see you then.' Another nod and he's gone. Her lack of attention was clear if she had to guess, but he could forgive her. Her head was still pounding and her vision was still slightly out of focus. Everything was, really. She couldn't think.

Through the haze, Max tried to see what she could remember. Her only solid memories were that of herself as a young child. She knew she and her parents lived on the coast for some time. They went to the zoo, and parks, and other normal stuff. But anything more recent than that just left her with nothing. No matter how hard she thought about anything within the past several years, she only received a splitting pain through her skull instead. Not even small flashes or momentary glimpses of a memory.

The doctor was hopeful it would get better. She could only rely on luck instead.

•••

The girl came back.

Once the doctor left, Max was once again alone with little to do. She didn't know where her phone was and forgot to ask while Doctor Hamlin was still here. She thought about asking the nurse that came in to clean the mess the strange girl left behind, but figured that with her headache she wouldn't be able to focus enough to use it properly. It had been several hours, and the sun was moving below the trees outside, casting long shadows through the window, but the passage of time had yet to help any.

It's while Max is resting, watching the clock tick by and wishing that her head would just stop pounding that she noticed the girl from before hovering at the door. Her shoulders were awkwardly hunched, and she pointedly avoided eye contact, as if she thought Max would yell at her for making a scene and running off. Max just looked at her silently. She was good at that. What was she supposed to say? She doesn't even know the girl's name. She must be someone she or her parents know if she's just allowed in.

"Hey." the girl finally spoke, a slight shake in her voice.

"Hey," Max replied.

"So," the girl inched in. She kept most of the room between herself and Max. "You really have no idea who I am?"

Max shook her head.

At that, the girl sighed. "Chloe. I'm Chloe. We're best friends. Knew each other since we were kids. We were the greatest. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise."

The girl—Chloe—had a slight smile on her face. It became a frown after a moment.

"What'd the doctor say? Seizure?" Chloe got a nod at that. "Good guess, I suppose. Best they could've thought without knowing what you can do."

"What I can do? What does that mean?"

That brought the smile back to Chloe's face. "You won't believe it. Which is exactly why I'm gonna tell you. Although..."

Chloe's face becomes serious. "You have to be careful. A whole week we spent working together, seeing what you were capable of. Never got any worse than some nosebleeds, but obviously, it could've been." She waved at the surrounding room. "I don't want this to happen again. You have to promise me you won't try."

"Of course," Max said. "I'll be careful. With whatever it is. I promise." She was so intrigued at what the big deal was. What exactly was it she could do? Was she some sort of super-spy? Secret agent? Did she have magic powers? Numerous ideas raced through her mind, but none of them seemed important, dangerous, or likely enough to convey the gravity that Chloe was holding it to. If Chloe thought this more important than anything else, it must be serious. Unless it was all just a joke, something which a large part of Max still thought was most likely. But Chloe didn't seem like the person to go to all this effort just for a lie. Though Max knows she's made the same mistake before.

While Max's mind raced, Chloe took a seat and dragged it across the floor right next to the hospital bed. It seemed like a small reintroduction was enough to get over her shyness from earlier. This close, Max could make out the strong smell of cigarette smoke coming off of her. It wasn't too unpleasant—her dad was a smoker—so she could ignore that and listen as the explanation began. Chloe's tone was low, and she spoke slowly, as if telling a scary story.

"Well... I'm going to tell you how you, Max Caulfield, learned to time travel."