* Monday, After Dinner, After the Funeral *

'Max, why didn't you eat? You had what, soda and coffee all day?'

'I'm not hungry, Kate. I just...'

'Don't worry. I'll, uh, just grab something to snack on later.'

'Kate, I don't need you to mother me.'

'It's okay. I know you don't feel-'

'JUST STOP IT!'

The outburst echos through the parking lot as she walks through. The reverberation causes hearts to skip.

And now they're scared of me.

Looking behind where her companions stand, that thought is only mostly true. Kate looks fearful, and Warren is definitely uneasy. But Victoria? Angry. Why is she angry? I'm the one who should be pissed. Glare for glare, the blonde doesn't give the brunette an inch. She probably wants me to apologize. Fuck. That. Still, something in Max wilts as they both refuse to blink. Warren, sensing an oncoming confrontation, throws in the towel.

'I'm headed to the library. Gonna do my homework before they close. Maybe see if there's anything on Wikipedia or...'

'Yeah, go do that. See if anyone recently discovered a temporal communication system.'

The look on his face is significantly more pained than just a moment ago and contains an element of the rage emanating from Victoria. Dammit! Great! Now even Warren doesn't want to be around me. As he turns, headed right back to the building the four just vacated, he's stopped.

'Hang on. Katie, why don't you help him out?'

The smaller girl is on a roller-coaster, flipping between anger, fear, and tears. After a minute she settles on a cool indifference. Without taking her eyes from Max, she answers. 'Yeah, okay Vicky. I'll catch you later.' Forcefully grabbing Warren's hand, she marches right through an emerging Taylor and Courtney, running their own conversation over.

The abrupt intrusion has the two of them looking around. Taylor gestures to Victoria and sets off across the lot to catch up, Courtney in tow.

Victoria takes no notice. 'What the fuck is your deal Max?'

'Oh, what, you want to start? Fine, let's go. What do you want to kick my ass about now?'

'Damn it! It's not like that. You're acting like a bitch!'

'You should know, Vicky! Do this, don't do that. I am hella tired of all the shit you've been giving me.'

'Fine! You know what? I don't-'

'Victoria, what's wrong?' Instantly, two more faces appear around them. Taylor has a devilish look on her face, eyeing up Max like she's looking for the best way to pounce on her. Courtney, the more worried of the two, is still addressing her friend. 'What's going on? Is the bride of Hipster-stein bothering you?'

'Don't worry Court, Max and I just need to discuss something.'

Frigging gossip hoarders. So don't have the time. 'Don't worry, I'm done here.'

Two sets of daggers hone in on the back of Max's head as she leaves. But a third calls after her. 'Max, wait. I'm not done.'

'Don't bother. She's suck a super-bitch. Must be-'

'Taylor, stop! I don't have time for the bullshit right now!'

The yell gives a pause in Max's retreat. Why the hell is she acting this way to her friends? I'm who she's mad at.

'Right now I cannot handle the two of you. I have something really important to discuss with Max.'

What the hell? Just leave me alone!

Quickly coming back, Max stands right up in Victoria's face and practically yells again. 'What, Vicky? Why won't you leave me alone?'

Giving as good as she gets, the taller blonde screams right back at her. 'Because I'm goddamn tired of all this woe-is-me self destructive bullshit! And I'm tired of helping you with it! And I'm tired of wanting to help you with it! But I'm going to keep doing it because-' She clasps her hand to her mouth, halting the tirade.

What?! You don't get to stop! 'Because why, Victoria? WHY DO YOU WANT TO HELP?'

'I DON'T FUCKING KNOW ANYMORE!' The tears are from anger or frustration, maybe both, and even Victoria doesn't know whom cause them. 'I DON'T WANT YOU TO HURT ANYMORE! GODDAMN WHOLE WORLD ON YOUR SHOULDERS AND I'M TRYING TO HELP WITH THAT!'

OhmydogIcannotbelievesheispullingthis- 'Fine! Let's try this again!' Stretching her arm out, Max shoves her hand a hair's breathe from Victoria's face and closes her eyes.

Keep your cool, just keep your cool. Keep your-

'Is the bride of Hipster-stein bothering you?'

'Don't worry Court, Max and I just need to discuss something.'

Just keep cool, don't bite off their harpy heads. Gritted teeth put a damper on the calm voice Max summons. 'Sorry, Courtney. I just- I need Victoria to talk to me about something.'

'What, finally expanding beyond t-shirts?'

Just. Keep. Your. Cool.

'No. I have a personal problem. Victoria is working me through it.'

Both girls look to their ringleader for confirmation. Yeah, that's right. You're not as close to Vicky as you think.

'For reals, Victoria?'

The blonde has a curious look on her face. Confusion, sure. And she's still pissed. But what else?

'Yeah, Tay-tay. I'm sure. I'll, uh, I'll text you tonight for the homework.'

With some "kay"s and much hesitation the girls slowly walk away from the squared-off pair, taking the last gasps of daylight with them.

True darkness falls, only fought off by the overhead street lights, before the silence is broken.

'So, Victoria. What? What do you need now?'

'You don't get it?'

'Get what now? What, in your infinite wisdom, am I not getting now?'

'Really. The way you act. The shit all day. And you're wondering what I'm talking about?'

'Yeah, so what? I'm allowed to be in a bad mood. I'm allowed to have a meltdown when the whole world's ending and I'm hearing voices in my head.'

'You think that's true? That your behavior is acceptable? Then why did you have to pull a rewind?'

She could tell? No one could before.

'So what if I did?'

'Oh, you love playing ignorant about this. One moment you are just being bitchy and the next I thought you were going to hit someone. Your teeth were going to break. I know enough about you to know what probably happened. I also know the main reason why you rewind is because you feel you screwed up. So, again, why did you have to rewind?'

Because you pissed me off. Because you called me out. Because I knew I was wrong and I'm so damn tired of the guilt and apologizing and making everyone feel bad.

'Because we got into a fight and I was wrong!'

With that, as furious as Max is at Victoria, she turns her emotions on herself. 'I am so tired of it!' She is quiet but intense. 'I'm so tired of all the shit hitting me! Living through days of righting wrongs, fighting, crying, losing. I did everything right! I keep doing everything right. Except now I can't trust anything I've done because this whole time little voices in my head might have been pushing my decisions and I have no idea how they shaped my world. I don't know if anything I've done has been of my own free will or because of some sort of future me doing it.'

FUCK!

Fractured dams break. The stucco and plaster that had been slowly solidifying over the last few days is not up to the task of holding back these emotions anymore. Knees fold, tears fall. Hands arm balled up and pounding pavement. On reflex, a wobbling of the world occurs as Max's focus clashes with her discipline.

Until a hand rests upon her shoulder.

'Max, stay with me. I'm here Max. I'm not leaving. You're safe. Stay with me Max...'

The mantra grounds her back to reality.

'Max, you are fine. I'm here, just please, calm yourself down. Listen to my voice. Think of five things you see right now.'

What is she-?

'Wha-?'

'Trust me. What are five things you see?'

'I- I see the overhead lights. Cars in the parking lot...'

'Come on, keep going.'

'I see trees at the end of the lot. And fireflies in them. And I see you.'

'Okay. Now four things you feel.'

The hell?

'The pavement. Your hand on my shoulder. My backpack. My knees hurt a little.'

'Three things you hear.'

'I hear the bugs. You talking. Someone has music on loud.'

'Two you smell.'

'Pine. Pine and dirt.'

'One thing you taste.'

'Salt. Salty tears.'

'Okay. Good.' A hand rubs between Max's shoulder blades, further cementing reality. 'You're fine. You. Are. Fine.'

No, not really. 'What was that Vicky?'

'An anxiety coping technique. 5-4-3-2-1 grounding.'

'How- how did you know?'

'Because while you have been melting down today, I've been all over the internet trying to figure out what's wrong with you.'

What's wrong is the whole world is coming for me. 'Victoria, my powers-'

'Not your powers. You. You are messed-the-fuck-up.'

Oh, fuck off. Who could be sane-

'I mean, no one should be sane after the past week. And... and as much as Warren and I- and Kate too- as much as we want to help, we keep making it worse.'

No! Not, not on purpose...

'We are trying to help. But every time we think we figure out something else or come up with a new theory, we just make it worse.'

No you're helping

'I am just... so tired. Of not being able to help. Of sitting by and watching you get hurt over and over.'

'you do help'

'But obviously not enough.' The hands on her shoulder and back finish their trip to a hug. 'I can't fully help you with all of this.'

Max leans into the embrace, returning it. 'this. this is the help i need right now.'

'Max, I can't. You have this uber-level PTSD going on. You act like you just came back from war. I don't know how to even begin with that.'

This. 'just keep doing this'

They stay that way for a little bit longer.

'i, uh... i have to go apologize to kate and warren.'

'Not right now. Later. Tomorrow. Right now I know they are both pretty angry. Let me talk to them first.'

'okay'

Standing and turning. Max searches for a hand. Victoria lends her strength.

'thank you'

'Don't worry. I'm here when you need the help.' A unusually light laughter issues from the blonde. 'I keep telling you that, you just never listen.'

Max repays the laughter in kind. 'yeah. if you didn't guess, i can be a little think sometimes.'

'Only a little.'

The dam isn't fixed, not yet. And maybe it needs to be torn down. But Max has someone else plugging up holes with her.

Without discussion, Victoria directs them to the left side of the hall. Opening her own door, the blonde ushers Max inside, turning on both her lights and her stereo. An organ steps into the room, playing a dirge, or at least it seems to. A mild pickup in the attack, as well as strings entering late, adds... hope.

What is this? I know it. I know I know it.

Victoria grabs a few bottles a water from next to her bed, sitting next to Max on the couch. And relaxes, ignoring the quizzical look on the brunettes face. Leaning her head back, she closes her eyes and just lets the music wash over her. Eventually, Max's puzzle is solved as the track flows into a acoustic guitar and vocal combination, accompanied by upright bass and drums.

The mellow tones of Colin Meloy, combined with his penchant for esoteric language and slightly unusual lilt, wash over Max. The two girls just sit and enjoy the album. Neither moves much, save to take sips from their waters, until the tragic story of Margaret and William comes to an end. Like escaping breath, the last words are sung and the last chords are struck.

Victoria is the first to break the hollow silence. 'I've had that album in my player for like three weeks and never got around to listening to it again.'

Max has a bit of trouble making herself heard. An hour of silence after yelling so hard has done funny things to the back of her throat. 'Yeah, it's a good one. I got "Castaways and Cutouts" and "The Crane Wife" on CD but never got around to picking up that one. So...' She eyes the blonde sideways, a smirk playing her lips. 'I know you're into the indie rock but... baroque pop?'

A blush colors Victoria's cheeks. 'What, I can't like harpsichords and string quartets?' She gets up and grabs an album book, packed with the most eclectic variety of music Max has seen. ELO and Pink Floyd sits next to Swans and Fiona Apple. Classic chamber music mixes sit next to hand-written Skrillex compilations. She's got everything from the Decemberists, Death Cab. Frank Sinatra? And...

'Vicky, what the hell is Steam Powered Giraffe?'

'Oh! Oh my god, you don't know them? They're, like, a performance art group. Folk rock meets vaudeville with a steam punk art style.' She pulls the CD, getting excited and continuing her diatribe. 'They're from San Diego. Started out as a pantomime group, life performance stuff. But their vocals... I just get chills listening to it sometimes. Here's my favorite.'

A acoustic guitar steps is, with a beautiful voice weaving along side of it. Hypnotically, Max is entranced at the first words.

I was lost and scared and all alone

And there was darkness and all of my fears had grown

Into a monster I could not contain

It had claws and teeth and oh so many fangs

But then

I saw

Your eyes

I was falling wind was sweeping, rushing past

I could not find my way back to the ground

Wings like bird's would have slowed my decent

But I could not spread them all by myself

But then

I felt

Your hands

I can see I'm not alone, not alone

Not alone

You were standing there all along, all along

Faces in the distance reaching out

I am not alone

I am not alone

I can see I'm not alone anymore

A single tear rolls down Victoria's cheek.

I... I can see what she finds so powerful in a song like this. I've got goosebumps.

'Victoria, uh, wow.'

More embarrassment colors the blonde girl's face, and she tries to laugh. 'Yeah. It's been a while since my emo phase was in such high gear.' Sitting back down, she lets the rest of the album go to on, a combination of the wacky and the serious, led by a solid group of vocalists.

Comedy and drama. The two sides of life. Where's my comedy?

Victoria is typing at her computer during the album. Gotta do that homework. Gotta get them good grades.

'I wish good grades were all we worried about, Max.'

'What, instead of the end of the world? They used to be the same thing.'

Ha. Ha. It's a joke.

'Funny.'

Someone gets me.

'Victoria, why are you even worried about school right now? I'm legitimately unable to focus on anything but...'

Turning in her chair, Victoria deadpans her response. 'Because the world isn't ending.'

Save me from optimists. 'And you know that how?'

'Because, in spite of what you may thing, you have forgotten some basic logic.'

Hands thrown up. 'Enlighten me.'

A momentary hesitation before continuing. 'Are you, like, good to talk about everything?'

'Vicky, I'm surprised you waited this long.'

'Fine.' She moves onto the couch, taking her previous spot. 'You think the voices are you, right?'

'Yeah...' Damn, it's so obvious.

'So, if future you is communicating-'

'-there must be a future.'

'Exactly.'

'But there's something wrong with future me.'

'Uh, duh? You're talking to your past self.'

'No. It's... how they talk.'

'They?'

'Yeah. It's like multiple personalities. Or schizophrenia. Sometimes the voice is... pushing me. Like how Chlo would... Like, to be daring, or open. To break free of my comfort zone. And other times..'

'Sometimes the voice sucks.'

'Yes. It points out the worst parts of me. It eggs me on. It's the one that made me all... crazy earlier. Told me to go get Chloe. To change everything.'

A hand enfolds Max's knee, squeezing gently. 'You got to fight it.'

'That's what I'm doing!'

Max didn't mean to yell.

'Sorry.'

The blonde hasn't moved at all. 'Don't worry. I have absolutely no idea what you may be going through. I expect you to get angry from time to time.'

'It's not towards you.'

'I know that much.'

'I am just tired. I'm not sure if what I think is from me anymore. Or from whatever future me wants. I don't... nothing. Never mind.'

Victoria scoots closer, shoulders touching. 'Don't stop. Talk. Share.' An arm around that shoulder. 'You'll feel better.'

'I don't trust future me. And not just because she, or they, are so confusing. Some of what I hear is... malicious. Just mean.'

'So don't do what it tells you to do.'

'But that's the point! I can't always tell where I end and it begins. I just... Just let me think this through a bit.' Max gives a light shove. 'Go finish your homework.'

'Okay. But you are going to keep me up to date.' A few clicks later. 'What is this?'

What can I do? Can I somehow figure out-?

'Max! Read this.'

Leaning over Victoria's shoulder, she reads the emailed link. Fog blankets Arcadia Bay? But why don't we see it?

'Look, here. It says "mysteriously, a slice of the fog bank is void, heading directly inland from the center of the bay". Let me try to...' Several more click, some specific typing. 'Weather satellites should be able to show some real-time... Here we go. It's fuzzy but we should-'

The Bay appears in the digital display. Pixel white puffs float along blues and greens. A perfect slice of cloud coverage, deceivingly choppy, is missing from an otherwise perfect circle.

'The fog isn't here. It isn't around the school. There's a corridor of nothing between the school and the water.'

'No. Nothing between me and the Bay.'