* Tuesday, Around 3, After the Funeral *
The pictures.
The pictures from last week.
The pictures that shouldn't exist.
Alyssa, staring out a stormy window.
A skeleton, smoking in class.
A bird and windmill.
No.
Chloe, reclining on a car hood.
Chloe, at her own computer.
Chloe, photobombing.
No. They're tainted.
Around her room lies the strewn moments she captured in history. Each accusing, staring at Max as she stands still in it's center.
No! You took them from me!
Victoria stands with her back against the door. She leans away from the mess, trying to distance herself. Maybe from these false moments. Maybe from Max.
Why are these even here?
Max is not upset with these photos. Not the ones staining her floor. In spite of the revelation of where they are from. In spite of what they mean. In spite of the fact they represent an attack from a person before her private war even started.
Even now, she can't help but feel fondly for them.
No, it's the last four Polaroids in her hands that are causing such distress.
Half a dozen bottles, lined up in darkness.
The inside of Warren's locker.
"Chloe Price 4-ever" carved on a desk.
And a fucking giant squirrel.
These never existed outside my head!
The four offending pictures fan out in front of her eyes.
My nightmare. They're from my nightmare.
She let's go, and they hang suspended in front of her. Outwardly calm, ever so calm, Max makes a circuit around them, mostly staring at their discarded brethren. All these photos now... offend her. But those circling her are, or were, at least real. Last week, they were real. This week may be a different story, but she remembered taking those pictures, the physical actions. The world around her wasn't caught up in her head. They may be tainted now but she still knew they would be a part of her. She crafted them. They were a part of her. Her children, in some ways. Through the pain and love of last week, they were the offspring of her eyes and artistry.
The four aberrations were not real. They were not part of her. They were a part of the other Max.
Max as been holding the world still for almost ten minutes. A wave of exhaustion and nausea shivers down her spine.
Reluctance. Max lets the world turn.
'-do you mean, shouldn't exist?' A few moments of confusion, then a bit of anger. 'Stop time traveling when we're talking, please.'
'Sorry, I needed a minute.' Scratching her scalp. 'Lot to process.'
Marginally mollified. 'Fine, whatever. I repeat: why shouldn't the pictures exist?'
'They're from the week that didn't happen.'
An exasperating sigh. 'I know that. I mean the others, the ones you were holding.' The blonde girl looks around, spying her prey. Reaching down. 'How are they any diff-'
'DON'T TOUCH!'
Frozen, in headlights. Slowly, and of her own choice, Victoria rewinds, standing upright.
'Just don't. I don't know what it will do.' Max grips one arm in her other hand. 'They- they're not like the others. Those were real. I made them. Like Ch-Chloe's journal, they existed at some point. But the others... were only in my head.'
In my nightmares.
'They were... they were what? Max, I don't understand.'
A whisper.
'i never explained the nightmare.'
'What nightmare?'
'the one with the other me. the gestalt of the leftover me's. the one where i made the decision.'
Lightning strikes in her mind. Salt water traces her face.
'to kill chloe.'
A weight settles. On an already volatile moment, the pressure doesn't smother it. It merely pushes the girls closer to the flame.
'You said- I mean, you said you met that crazy version of you. The one that was all for...'
'that's not all.' Max picks up the fallen photos, tension as she touches them. But no odd chill. No burning sensation. The only this she feels is the slight cool of the plastic in her hand. Glossy finish.
'i took this as i was forced to profess undying love to... to jefferson.'
It was true before last week.
'i took this as i was forced to walk through the dorm, over and over, as i transformed unto versions of myself.'
And you.
'i took this after walking through a reverse world, over and over, to the bathroom on monday.'
And the photo that erased the skeleton.
'i took this after being hunted through hallways and junk piles. by everyone.'
Even you.
'i saw every good and bad thing that happened since monday. the good was really good, but the bad... was worse. so much worse.'
The thunder is back in place, firmly locked in memory. The salty water still dampens Max's face.
'i had to relieve all my choices, all the things my power did. over and over. and alternatives and perversions and then... then i dealt with myself.'
'Max, that wasn't you.'
'all the left over bits and pieces of me. all the parts that i erased away when i used my power. all the subconscious thoughts and dirty feelings.'
The brunette feels hands on her arms. She looks directly ahead, staring into a without quite comprehending.
'she's a monster.'
I'm a monster.
'But you are not.'
Yes I am.
'You are just like everybody else. Everyone makes bad decisions, has bad thoughts.'
'other people don't make personalities out of them.'
Victoria lightly shakes the shorter girl. 'Of course they do. People argue with themselves all the time. They blame their mood, or hormones, or whatever when it's really their own decisions that lead to them doing wrong. This just means you are just like us mere mortals.'
'vicky, not exactly helping.'
A frown filters quickly through pixie features. 'I'm not trying to make you feel good, Max. I'm just telling you the truth. The only difference between you and everyone else is-'
'-my superpowered supernatural alter ego.'
'Yes, but-'
She pauses.
A host of thoughts play through Victoria's features. Eventually they settle on one that looks like... disappointment.
'Shit.'
'what?'
'She's in your head. Like, literally.'
The photos.
'Either FM, or your split personality, or whoever's the new girl. They physically went inside your imagination and made something real.'
'Or...' This is insane. This makes even less sense. 'Or I didn't imagine my nightmare. Maybe that place is real.'
Victoria, already worried, turns paler still.
'That's terrifying. I don't want to even think about that.'
Huh? 'Why?'
'Max, you already broke time. I'm okay with that. I mean, in a sci-fi movie-of-the-week way, what you can do makes sense.'
Really.
'Maybe just some sense. But enough so I can get by. Even the alternative worlds. I get that. But fucked-up Through The Looking Glass shit? That can't be real. If somewhere could do that- if a physical place could do even one of the things you described-'
It'd be hell.
'-we can't win.'
Can't lose hope now. If she gives up, I won't be able to do this. 'Don't talk like that. We can't give up.'
'Max, it's one thing to fight against someone like you. With your powers, going up against someone who can time travel, or walk between worlds, that's just a person. Powerful, but so are you.' A smile, a step towards confidence. 'And I'm betting that if they're doing this for revenge, they don't have backup. You do.'
Small favors. But they add up.
Serious face comes back. 'But if she, whoever, can enter your mind, like, physically. And make stuff from nothing. Or go to a place that defies every physics rule I can think of. And get back. That's not a person.' A shudder. 'That's a god.'
Max looks around the maelstrom of her room. The splayed photography. The upended drawer. A half-empty box of Chloe's life. The rest of those knickknacks strewn around the room.
Why?
'Why would someone like that come after me?'
Why me?
'I mean, they could. But to be all-powerful, at least compared to us. To walk through worlds to places that aren't even real? It would be child's play to stop me. Why would someone like that do all this? To torment me? Someone like that could travel back and stop me with a thought. Or destroy me now without trying.'
And another thing.
'And another thing. These items.' She points at the photos, the journal. Entries start flowing through her mind. 'They aren't a torment. Yes, they're painful but... But I'm not getting rid of them. I love them. They hurt but... looking at them... reading Chlo's thoughts, things she didn't share, even when we were back together.'
Journal Max, looks like the real deal with the wibbily-wobbily. She's got leet time-travel powers!
'I got something out of this I never thought I'd have.'
The other Max is kinda scary but totally awesome. Much more towards the awesome side. Besides, I like a little fear in a relationship.
'Not closure. I don't know if I'll ever really be over it all.'
I'm just happy she's back. And hella cute at that.
'But I think I'm finding a real way to move forward.'
Hands travel up her arms to rest on her shoulders. The grip is slightly too tight. Max doesn't notice.
'That's something else that freaks me out. You enjoying this.'
'Enjoy is definitely the wrong word. It's more like I... appreciate, I guess, what this stuff is.'
Chagrin. 'Yeah, but you-'
'No buts.'
A harumph, a shake. 'Fine. You need to see what this is.'
'An attack.'
'Wait, you-'
'I told you I needed a minute earlier. I worked that much out.'
I'm ignorant sometimes, not stupid.
'Good.' The obvious relief in the blonde girl's voice is almost painful to Max.
Really Vicky? So little faith?
'That's good, Max. I guess I was a little worried you'd just see it as a gift or something.'
She's embarrassed? Should be, for doubting.
That thought causes a pause.
Genuine confidence?
In spite of her seemingly preternatural ability to read the brunettes thoughts, Victoria moses this one. 'I know you're not stupid or anything. I was worried you might...'
'Might what?'
'You know. Go off the deep end again.'
'Bitch.'
The embarrassment is enhanced a bit. Pissed seemingly one of her default states, Max isn't too put off by it.
'Hey, I've got a few examples from the last few days that back me up.'
Touché. 'Still a bitch.'
'You know it.'
We should laugh now. This is the part of our banter where we giggle and move on.
'But there is still something missing me about your bizarro twin.'
When did it become so hard to laugh?
'We may have your FM all wrong.'
The conclusion Victoria just voiced is one of those that, in hindsight, is glaringly obvious.
My... leftovers already became something like evil-future-me before. Scattered. Mean. But like a little voice in my head. It's not too hard to figure out that...
No we're not
My personal Future Max can easily just be that little voice...
No we're different
Talking to me again, while I'm awake.
No we're you from
Get out.
the future.
OUT!
The mental door Max slams causes her to wince in the real world. Not unnoticed.
'Max? You okay?'
'Yeah.' Checking her lip. Finding it clean. 'Just getting rid of that bitch.'
'Are you sure?'
Cocking an ear. Listen to something she can't hear.
'Yeah, she's gone. She can still hear us, or me anyway. But she can't talk right now.'
'God, that is so damn weird.'
A deadpan look stares back atat the taller girl. 'Vicky, that may be the biggest understatement you have said and will ever say in your life.'
Neither laugh. Neither even smile. But the thought of a smile goes through both their heads.
Little victories.
'So, do you think FM is..?'
'I don't-' A shake, a bit of conviction. 'No. I don't think so. But what do I know? Could I tell if I was crazy?'
'You can't be crazy. If you're crazy...'
Yeah. We'd all be screwed.
'But that doesn't change much. We still should take precautions.'
'How? Everything I know, she'll know. Regardless if she's from the future or just in my head.'
Trepidation. 'Then... I may, um... keep some things. From you.'
Anger flares.
All the shit she gives me about telling her everything and forcing me to-
Stop
NOT NOW!
Hey, you don't trust me/us. I/we get that. Which is the exact reason why you should trust Vicky.
The obviousness of that statement smacks her anger down.
'Still cool, Max?'
The layer of fear before her just proves how misplaced that anger is. 'No, but I'm cooling down. I get it. The big problem is actually doing this. It's going to be hard for me to help if I don't know anything.'
A laugh. An actual honest laugh. 'Two weeks ago I would have said you were already there.' Victoria lets out another, with a bit of a snort. 'Oh, God, it's not funny.' A small fit of giggles breaks out. 'It's so not funny.'
The mood's infectious. Max doesn't know exactly why Victoria laughs, but she knows where her own comes from.
Adrenalin. Exhaustion. Fear.
You gotta laugh or cry.
'You're right, it's not funny. But what else can you do?'
'Claw out our own eyes and be a crying, gibbering lump in the corner?'
'Naw.' A mischievous grin appears. 'You forget Vicky. I've seen you cry and gibber.' I'm not quite sure what that word even means. 'You'll ruin your pores that way.'
That sparked another round of giggles, from both of them this time. Only to stop when they received simultaneous text alerts.
Victoria is quicker on the draw. 'It's from Katie. She says to go outside.'
'Maybe she's out of class early?'
Out the front doors, several of their classmates were already in the dorm quad, milling around. All were looking up, most were pointing.
Crap.
Crapcrapcrapcrapcrap
Max and Victoria didn't want to look up. They both knew what awaited them. Not the specifics, of course. But, looking up, they would see it. The next omen. The next step towards their End-of-the-World party. Max firmly clasps Victoria's hand. Looking to each other finally, in unison, they both turn skyward.
'Crap.'