Trigger warning: themes of suicide and self-harm

* Tuesday, Still Not 10 a.m., After the Storm *

'You kids ready to go?'

'Let me... I need to pack a few things, Chlo.'

'Kay, Max.'

Shouldering past Victoria, Max ascends, away from the slight ice in her girlfriend's eyes.

I guess she's still upset.

More like pissed.

Her backpack is nowhere to be found in the bedroom. Just my tote bag then. There is little to grab. Phone, camera. She will be here tonight anyway.

Right?

No response.

You're in a bitchy mood today, FM.

Down the stairs and out the front door, careful to lock it behind her. Victoria's car is already missing. Must have went on with Kate, I guess. Only a rusty pickup truck remains in the drive way, already running. The windows are starting to fog.

When is this fog going to lift. It's not bad but...

A shudder runs up and down Max's spine as she stares at the sky. A blue hue has bled into to blanket above.

What does it hide?

The chill of the morning air is gone from the truck's interior. Heater works great, at least. Chloe grunts in affirmation and pulls onto the street.

But no eye contact. No smile.

Rolling down the window and lighting a cigarette. Chloe stares intently but glassy at the road ahead.

Not even a word.

The tension builds as they travel. The wall, when Max... went too far. It's still there.

How can I even start?

Smoke done, Chloe immediately pulls another.

'Chlo...'

Flick.

'Chlo, I'm sorry...'

Inhale.

'I didn't mean to...'

Exhale.

'To do what, Max?'

I don't know.

'What didn't you mean to do? Abuse your powers? Bring up- bring them up? Make an excuse to be selfish?'

'To hurt you.'

Rolling to a stop as a light turns red.

'Well, you did. I just can't believe you used Rachel. And Dad. You used the shit I deal with as an excuse.'

'No, I didn't mean-'

'Doesn't matter. You.' Chloe turns to the brunette. 'You crossed a line, bringing them into this.'

'I'm sorry, I-'

'Max, do you even understand why I'm angry?'

'Because I brought them up.'

'No.'

No?

The light turns green. Chloe makes no move to go.

'Max, I spent years using my dad's... his death as an excuse. For why I could behave how I did. For why I could be angry at everything. For why I could hurt people. And... and I knew it. After a while, I knew it. I abused people because, hey, I'm damaged goods. My dad's death was my reason to be a total bitch to David and teachers and- and even my mom. I-'

Ashing to buy time.

'I treated people like shit because at least other people would feel as bad as me.'

'Chlo...'

'Stop.' The harshness of her voice catches Max by surprise. 'No talking. Not yet. I'm sorry, but I have to finish this first.'

The light turns red again.

'I was a mean, spiteful bitch that couldn't be bothered to see that people around me loved me. They wanted to help. And when I started realizing this I couldn't... change. I couldn't not be that bitch. There wasn't an off switch. My reflexes would kick in and I'd hurt someone else.'

Another drag of smoke, another ashing.

'A small part of me cared. Most of me didn't. I had Rachel then. I had someone I chose who saw me and didn't immediately want me to change. Didn't want me to "do the right thing". She just wanted me. As I was, scars and all.'

Green again.

'That's all I wanted, really. Someone to want me to just be... me.' Her eyes glass over. 'But that was a lie. It's what I thought I wanted. The whole time what I wanted, what I really needed, was someone to help me go back. To the person I was before. The one who had Dad. And you.'

The pain Max feels for the young woman is familiar. And sharp. And just as great as the first time.

'You- you left. Not your fault. Not your choice. Your silence, though. That just... added too much. I lost too much at once.' Chloe clasps Max's hand. 'I already forgive you. And I always loved you. Never stopped. But you became another excuse I told myself.'

Red, for a third time. Chloe finally realizes this, pulling over and shutting the car.

'I was the one who broke things. You put them back together. And I was so, so broken.'

'Chlo...'

'I just kept breaking things. And Rachel kept helping me break even more things. I c-couldn't stop.'

'And I came back.'

Nodding. 'And you came back. And I don't want to break anything anymore. I don't want to be so angry. I don't want to fuck up the world anymore. But, inspite of that...'

'I broke the Bay.'

'We broke it. And I can't let that happen again. I can't let any more worlds end because of me.'

She cries, silent tears. Red eyes, red cheeks, stuffy nose. Her voice is all that remains unaffected.

'I know the dark this leads to. I didn't just want to hurt people. I wanted to just hurt. I wanted pain. It's all I thought about. If I had pain, I knew I felt something. And then I found ways to stop that pain. Weed, alcohol. Rachel. It was the only control I felt in my life.'

'God, Chloe.' Max is a mirror of the emotions in Chloe's face. 'Damn. I- I don't know what to say. But, you... you see it, now. You understand why. You can change this.'

A look that could only be described as embarrassment. Or, deeper, shame.

'I, uh, I kinda figured out a lot of this a while ago. At least, I knew I was hurting people on purpose. I knew I wanted people to hurt because I did. I knew it was me, not you, not Dad or Rachel. But the bigger part of me didn't want to change. Didn't care to. Until you came back. I knew, at that moment, I wanted my life to get better. I knew I wanted to make my life worth something. Especially...'

She's conflicted. Hesitant.

'When I woke up next to you. I never did that with anyone but Rachel. My best friends. Never shared a bed, platonic or otherwise. Hell, I never even climbed into my parent's bed growing up. But waking up, next to you, I felt... happy. I wasn't dreading the morning. I stopped being disappointed with waking up. That never happened around Rachel.'

The first sob breaks through.

'I ment what I said the other night. Y-you don't take away my pain. You make me not want to hurt anymore. You m-make me not want to self-destruct. You make me want to be a better person. A whole p-person.'

Her face screwed up in pain, Chloe tries to stop her outpouring. But it doesn't stop. Max crosses the short distance, breaking the wall to embrace her. Willing the bluenette strength.

'I'm seeing you acting l-like me. Like I was. I c-can't let you do that. I can't let you be me.'

That's the last she can say, for now.

Max breaks the silence.

'I don't know how to make this better. I don't know what to do.'

'Just be you. D-don't change. Don't give up who you are.'

'I can't go back. I can't be the old me. I was weak. I couldn't fight against anything as I used to be.'

A chuckle. A good sign. 'Dummy. The reason you're still here is because of the old you. You can't stand bullies. You protect people. You'll go to hell and back for family and friends. You love people, all people. The whole damn world. You always look for good. Victoria. The Queen Bitch of Blackwell. She gave me the cliff-notes of what she said. Because she cares about you, even if she won't admit it. You turned Vicky around in twenty four hours. You have no idea how powerful you are in spite of time control.'

Max refuses to break the hug. Fearful Chloe would see how bright red she's turned. Or the tears in her eyes. Or the fear on her face.

I'm not this person. She's making me sound like a super hero. Hipster Girl, the emotional balancer.'I need you to stay this way. I need you to stay balanced and strong.'

I am such a wreck. Unhinged. Half crazy.

'Don't let the bad things change you. Don't let hate control you.'

'beware the dark side'

'Don't be fresh.'

'Sure, Yoda.' A giggle. Thank Dog we can still laugh. 'But, um. But I still...'

'What?'

'I'm not this person. I still hurt those people. I still killed.'

'No. You saved me. You might think otherwise but there was no way anyone can make the decision you made. You had to do something not just impossible but inhuman. Life, all of it, can't prepare anyone for the cliff face.'

Trembling. The wall between the two may be gone but there were still others around Max. Chloe was picking at one of those walls.

'I didn't care about everyone else. I cared about you. And myself. I don't know how I could ever really forgive myself for what I chose.'

'You don't need forgiveness. Maybe one day, but you aren't going to able to wake-up one day, fixed. You just need to live with it. For now, that's all you can do.'

'I do. I already accepted it.'

'No, Max, you haven't. You've turned off and you know it. The girl I knew hasn't delt with this yet. You're numb. You're in denial.'

A flare of anger. 'What, I need to be a blubbering, suicidal mess?'

'Maybe for a short time, yes. You have been pushing forward without thinking too hard. This fucking Whirlpool has helped you ignore-'

'I'm not ignoring the past, Chlo.'

'That's not what-'

'I'm trying to deal with everything I did but I can't right now. I have to try and save everyone again. I need to find a way this time to do it.'

In spite of the anger emanating from the younger girl, Chloe has to laugh. It's short. But earnest.

'What's so fucking funny?'

No hesitation. No fear. 'You.'

'Fuck off.'

'No, you fuck off.' In contradiction of her words, Chloe laughs again. 'You are so worried about being a monster. You keep thinking you deserve to be punished. You know, maybe you do, but my biased opinion is no. Because, in spite of all the guilt you feel, and the fact I think you are basically trying to turn off all your emotions, you still want to save the world.'

It's my fault-

'You still think it's your fault and responsibility. I bet you still think only you can do it too.'

Well...

'...yes...'

'Because you are Maxine fucking Caulfield. In direct contradiction to everything else that's gone on, like the fact we're all sure someone else is causing this Whirlpool, that they are likely more powerful than you, that they started all this to begun with...'

'I get it.'

'No, you really don't. Because your first instinct is still to try and save everyone.'

But that's not my first instinct. My first was to save you.

The next words come out broken. Audible, yes. Coherent, yes. But the words, which should be full of love, are laden with fear. Self-recrimination. Anger. Heartache.

'I chose you.'

Simple words.

Some many meanings in these words. Some many times they've been said in history, between friends, family, lovers. They should be taken as a proclamation of acceptance, love, forgiveness, a whole host of positive emotional reinforcement.

But not this time.

'I chose you, Chloe. Over everyone else in the Bay, everyone combined, I chose just you to save. I didn't even have to think too hard.'

A hand brushes aside tear tracks that mars a face. A hand delicately raises a chin. A hand rests against a solar plexus.

A hand full of power.

If your right hand causes you to sin...

'Chloe, how am I different from Nathan. I used people to get what I wanted. I threw them away. Because they didn't matter enough.'

'Max, stop. You know you're not like him. You're different.'

'Why? Because I want to feel bad? It doesn't change that I did it. Morals don't separate me from the act.'

'That's the world of difference. You still have a soul. You still-'

'Still what? Regret it? Why should I? I could go back, right now. You know I could. I can actually save them. I can prove I'm not- not a monster.'

A hand against a chest grips a shirt tight. Not to pull or push. To cement. To hold.

'I have every opportunity to go back and let you die. I'm numb? I have to be. If I want to hold on to my sanity I have to ignore what happened. I can't grieve.'

A hand grows sticky with sweat. It feels the rapid beat of a heart and the pause of lungs.

'If I grieve, it's real. If it's real, it's the way the world is. And I can change the world.'

A hand lets go and appears between two young friends.

'It's all right here at my finger tips.'

Fear. For the first time, fear truly enter's Chloe's eyes. Not fear for what could happen to Max, or of their future.

Fear of Max.

'There it is. There is what I've been expecting. You finally realize what I am.'

'No, I-'

'I'm no better than him. Than them both. I use people and discard them when I have what I want.'

'Max, I said stop.'

'Why?'

'Because I know why you're saying this, and I won't give it to you.'

'What? What do I want?'

'Permission.'

Chloe grabs hands, painfully tight. Awkward as it is, she turns fully toward the smaller girl.

'You want permission to hate yourself.'

No I don't.

'You want someone to acknowledge that you're a bad person.'

No.

'So that you can move on.'

no

'Because if someone hated you, if you could just hate yourself, it... It explains why you chose what you did. You're "evil", so doing wrong is the correct thing to do.'

no, no stop

'You need to blame someone for why we were on that cliff. You need to find a place for that blame. And you only see yourself as the reason.'

'stop'

'It's not your fault.'

'no'

'It's not your fault that you were there. Or that I was. You were just given choices. You made the choice to save my life in the bathroom. How can that be bad?'

'you don't understand'

'You made a choice to save Kate, to find Rachel. You had to choose between so many different outcomes so many times. But you were never given the choice about your power. That was forced on you.'

'i used them'

'And why the fuck not? You did good, these last nine days. You try to help people. Befriend people. Save people. You did what you could.'

'i can do more i can save more'

'Then do it.'

The statement stops both of them.

The tally has been counted. The results of that moment by the lighthouse are known. Max can go back. She can save four hundred and thirty one people.

She can let the person she loves most die.

Chloe pulls her backpack from the cab floor. Rummaging through it's contents. A notebook, colorful and battered, is drawn forth. Between two pages, the separated halves of a photo of a blue butterfly rests.

'This moment right now, go back. If you want, truly want, go back and save them.'

'Why do you still have this?'

'Because I need to remember. I need to have this physical item to remember why I'm still here. I need to know that so many people suffered for me, a fucking high school drop-out, so that I could live. And that the girl I love more than anything, than everything, loves me exactly the same way.'

'Why would...'

'So Max. We love each other. But I can't see you like this. I can't let you hurt so much for me.'

'I- I'm numb.'

'No, you're not. You are destroying yourself by inches over me. I can't be apart of that. I can't let you do that. So choose, right now.'

Both hands are held out. In one, the torn picture to the past. In the other, a waiting palm.

'I won't blame you, either way. I won't judge you, or hate you. But you have to choose, and commit. Either go back and save yourself from all this. Or take my hand and let it go. Let the pain in. Let me help you through the pain.'

no

'I love you, Max Caulfield. I will love you no matter what. None of that can be changed.'

For the first time, the same world twice. I didn't like how the last chapter was shaping up, putting both parts together. Max's break in reality felt watered down when coupled with this talk. That said, I mean, her answer is obvious.

Right?