Ouroboros

by TomorrowHeart

When Chloe convinces Max to make things right, something strange happens, resulting in a new beginning and a chance at a life together. With everything seemingly "fixed," the two are ready to live normal lives. Lots of fluffy "Adventures of Max and Chloe with friends" with a bit of "dealing with things" thrown in. [Artwork credit to MaiQueti! Links to her art in my profile!]

72. His Crooked Heart

Sunlight filtered in through the windows, casting the room in a dreamy filter. Tiny specks of dust hovered within the beams of light like will o' the wisps, adding an additional, and frankly unnecessary, flair of the supernatural to the scene. The serene atmosphere was so disjointed from the mood of those that occupied the room, it was almost comical.

Warren was still sitting on the floor, his back against the wall and legs outstretched in front of him. He rolled the baseball bat back and forth over his knees, watching as the decal disappeared, then reappeared. On the bed, Chloe laid with her head in Max's lap, her eyes glazed over as images from her dreams skipped around her skull. Max absentmindedly brushed her fingers through Chloe's hair, barely present as she stared at the far wall.

With a slow blink, she sifted through the events of the night, and a dull ache passed through her head...

Chloe couldn't have been screaming for even a full minute before there was pounding on the door. Victoria's voice forced its way into the room, asking in a terrified pitch if everything was okay. Max didn't even notice it as first. She was too preoccupied with the twisting, shivering, and thrashing girl in her arms. She held her tightly, whispering 'shhh' in a futile attempt at soothing her. But she could tell this was a particularly bad episode. Chloe's face was quickly vanishing beneath a thick layer of blood that seemed to be coming from several different places. She choked on it, spitting a mouthful onto the floor beside them. Warren was on the other side of her, looking back and forth between her and Max with wild eyes.

"Please," Chloe whimpered, lost within the crackles and spikes that ran through her, "please, it's too much..."

Warren took hold of her arm, partly to comfort her, but also to stop it from flailing.

"Max!?" Victoria called again. Then Brooke. Then Kate. Dana. Stella. Juliet... Everyone outside expressing their concern, desperate to figure out what was happening. Warren looked at the door, then back at Max. He didn't say anything, but his expression was able to convey the question 'what do we do?' Chloe went limp in their grasp, finally signaling the end of the episode.

Max was halfway through working up a sigh of relief when Chloe's eyes snapped open again. She tore her arm out of Warren's grip, then slammed her palm back down into her own head as she groaned. She repeated the motion, as if she could beat the pain out of her. When that failed, she arched her back and lifted herself off the ground with hopes of being able to escape it.

It had never happened like this before. Once it faded, it stayed gone. It had never come with a second wave. Max blinked her tears away as she clutched her, knowing there was nothing to be done. She'd tried everything before. She simply had to wait.

Waiting, waiting, waiting. An apt summary of everything, really.

A growl fizzed in Chloe's throat, followed by another burst of red mist. She inhaled deeply, warning of another scream. Warren glanced at the door, then regarded Chloe with an apologetic look. He muttered 'sorry' under his breath and pressed both of his hands over her mouth. Max was about to protest, but she understood the necessity of it. Chloe had to be as quiet as possible.

"Max, open the fucking door or we're going to break it down," Victoria bellowed. Max flinched at her demand, then again when the pounding on the door resumed. It was so loud.

She didn't know what to do. They were trapped in the most compromising position imaginable. How could she possibly talk her way out of it? There wasn't a way, especially if any of them actually saw Chloe. The girl muffled against Warren's hands, and he whispered to her as calmly as he could.

"One second! I need to get dressed!" Max responded, the panic alive and very noticeable in her voice. The banging on the door ceased for a moment, then came back heavier. Somehow, she could tell it was someone other than Victoria.

"Who fucking cares if you're naked!?" Dana shouted. "Let us in!"

Chloe's body went slack once more, and Warren slowly removed his hands. Horrified, he looked them over. They were quite literally dripping with blood.

"What do we do?" he asked, this time out loud.

Max sighed. The thought of leaving Chloe's side hurt her heart. Gently, she handed Chloe off into Warren's arms, then got to her feet. She waited several seconds, and when Chloe didn't start up again, she turned to the door.

"Okay, just a second," she replied loudly, violently beating her tone into evenness. She ran her hands over her shirt several times, streaking it with red. A frustrated sound scratched in her throat when she saw how much of it still remained on her palms. It didn't help that it had seeped into the bandage wrapped around her wounded hand. She yanked her shirt off and just as quickly had another one over her head. She gave Warren a quick nod that seemed to say 'don't worry' in the least confident way possible. Still shaken, he simply looked down at Chloe in his arms.

She pulled the door open quickly and slipped through the crack before a clear view of the room could be seen. She was met by a small mob of faces wearing a variety of emotions. Victoria was at the front of it, her expression worried with a tint of anger.

"Jesus Christ. There you are," she said, taking Max by the shoulders in an iron grip, "are you okay?"

"I'm okay, I'm okay," Max responded, clasping her hands behind her back. She had no idea what to say, but she knew she wanted to be the one steering the conversation. "Sorry," she said, "did we wake you guys up? I didn't realize we were being so loud."

It was such a ridiculous claim of ignorance that it successfully knocked the entire group off balance. It was like she'd doused them all in freezing water, forcing them to reboot their brains. Surely there was no way someone would say something so incredibly unbelievable unless there was SOME kind of sincerity behind it. Surely.

"Uh..." Victoria looked over her shoulder at the other girls, "but...what was that screaming?"

"Chloe," Max said simply. When she didn't elaborate, Victoria narrowed her eyes.

"Is...she okay?" she asked. It was the voice of someone sure they were being the victim of a prank.

"Yeah, she's fine," Max said with a bit of irritation. "We're, uh, having a bit of a fight and, you know..." She let the sentence fade and waved a dismissive hand. She had no idea where the lie had come from, but was immensely pleased with herself for coming up with it so quickly. That is, until she noticed Victoria staring right at her stained palm. Her breathing stalled in her lungs and she crammed her hands behind her back once again. "Um, y-yeah, we were just..."

Victoria began to reach for her arm, but Max slammed backwards and pinned her hands against the door. She looked Victoria in the eye, and the girl's arm fell to her side. She had no way of knowing just how desperate her face must have looked in that moment, but she was able to hear the small gulp in Victoria's throat in response to it.

"Max, seriously, what's goi-" Taylor began to ask.

"So, you guys are just like...fighting?" Victoria interrupted, not breaking eye contact with Max for even a second. "You're okay?"

"Yes," Max said, nodding slowly. Her eyes said more than that, and Victoria's understood.

"Like hell she's fine!" Dana said. "It sounded like someone was fucking dying in there!"

"She said she's okay." Victoria's tone was light, but stern. She stared at Max a moment longer, then turned to Dana. "It's Max. She wouldn't lie to us..." she side-eyed Max, "right?"

"But it was..." Dana sighed and hung her head. Something about the way she did it felt like a punch in the gut. "I know she wouldn't. She never has. I just..."

"We got carried away. I'm sorry," Max said, her voice wavering a bit. She hated betraying the trust she'd been so proud of gaining. Victoria glanced back down at where Max was hiding her hands, then...she laughed.

"Fuck, Max," she said, giving her a playful whack on the shoulder. "I don't know what the fuck you two are freaking out about, but can you get your bitch to not scream bloody murder over it?" She smirked. "I told you to get her a muzzle, didn't I?"

"Fuck you, Victoria." Chloe's voice, weak and quiet, just barely made its way through the door. It was a godsend. A miracle. Victoria made an 'O' with her mouth as several of the other girls began to chuckle. She turned to them and rolled her eyes. Dana opened her mouth to speak, but Max beat her to it.

"God, I'm so embarrassed," she groaned, hiding her face away from the group. It must have sounded genuine enough that Dana swallowed whatever it was she was going to say. "I, uh, kinda want to hide away forever now. The fight was over the dumbest thing, too..."

"I'm ready to make up now, Max," Chloe said again, this time louder and livelier.

"Well, you heard her," Victoria said with a long, frustrated sigh, "false alarm, I guess. The Max who cried wolf." She took a step away, which triggered a chain reaction of the other girls doing the same. "Go on and have your nasty ass make up sex now."

Max apologized again and, muttering many things in many different tones, the group dispersed. It was clear some of them were still skeptical, but Max assumed it wasn't a big enough deal for them to lose any sleep over it. Victoria and Kate, however, stayed behind. Victoria turned to Kate and gestured sweetly for her to return to their room, then she looked back at Max. Her gaze barreled through all pretense.

'You owe me,' her eyes said.

'Thank you,' Max's responded. 'I will. Later.'

Victoria nodded, then turned on her heel. It wasn't until her door clicked shut that Max realized what she'd agreed to. The feeling in the pit of her stomach wriggled into something larger.

When she came back into her room, she found Chloe sitting upright, still leaning against Warren. Most of the blood had been wiped from her face and now took form as a large stain at the bottom of his shirt. Chloe flashed Max a weak smile.

"I don't think I have the energy for make up sex," she said.

Max reciprocated with a smile of her own, then buried her face in her hands as she burst into tears.

Max blinked again and let out the breath she didn't realize she'd been holding. She looked down at Chloe and frowned at the tremor in the girl's eyes. Whatever it was she saw in her dreams was still there, gnawing at her thoughts.

I gotta talk to her about it.

"How are you holding up, babe?" she asked her, bringing noise into the room for the first time in over an hour.

"Man, I gotta be honest," Chloe replied, "I am all kinds of fucked up." There was a bit of laughter in her voice, but her face showed none of it. Finally tearing her eyes away from the recurring images, she angled her head down and looked at Warren. "Cool slumber party, yeah?"

"I..." he let his head roll back against the door, "I don't know how you guys do this on a regular basis."

"It's not really like, a choice we make," Max was sure to point out.

"I know, I know," he said. "I'm just kind of amazed, I guess. You guys are really fucking strong."

"Yeah, well," Chloe snickered, this time showing it, "I am going to go ahead and make the call that we should probably all get therapy once this is over. Including you, War-War."

"Well, I don't disagree," he responded. "Be pretty interesting trying to figure out how to navigate that conversation. Like...how would you even?"

Having a bit of experience with that particular issue, Max nodded in agreement, then reached for her phone beside her. She let out a 'hmm' when she saw the time.

"It's a little after six," she said. "I guess... I don't know..."

"Right," Chloe said, finally sitting up. She laced her fingers together, the stretched her arms above her head. "What's our plan?"

"Are you sure you're okay enough to do this?" Warren asked. Chloe gave him a small smile.

"I don't think there is an actual level of 'okay' to deal with this," she replied, "it's more just...different shades of fucked up." He eyed her with uncertainty for a moment and then, unable to argue, he resigned himself to a shrug.

"Alright, then," Max said, taking Chloe's hand. "Today's the day we do something. But before we jump right in, we should make one last attempt at gathering intel. Who else can we talk to that might know something...anything that pertains to Sean?"

"David," Chloe answered without hesitation. "With as paranoid as he was, I'm sure he knows something that he hasn't mentioned to us. I've been wanting to avoid it, but..."

"Me too," Max admitted, "but you're right. He's probably the best source we have."

I've been putting it off for too long. I didn't want to get him involved but...we have no choice.

"I already squeezed as much out of Frank as I think we're going to get," Chloe added. "Maybe..." She narrowed her eyes and the tiniest, mischievous smile touched her lips. "Officer Berry is my BFF now, so..."

"A cop?" Warren asked with an incredulous laugh. "Seriously?"

"Yeah," Chloe nodded, "he's really warmed up to me and so long as I'm careful about it, I might get somethin'."

"That's...not a bad option, actually." Max bobbed her head as she thought it over. "Yeah, yeah, that's good. Who else?"

"Well, Victoria, right?" Warren asked as he took a seat on the couch. "That seems kind of obvious." At the suggestion, Max frowned and rubbed her forehead. She could still see the look in the girl's eyes from the night before.

Shit. I don't want to do this...

"Yeah," she said in a defeated tone, "she's a good candidate. That's going to be...difficult."

"I can talk to her," he offered. "As far as she knows, I have no connection to any of this. Or...you know, whatever she might assume this actually is. I mean, she could be suspicious, but I can play it off as curiosity." He pointed to himself with both thumbs. "Maybe you guys told me about visiting him and I'm just a nosy loser."

"No," Max shook her head, "it's not that simple. I have to be the one. I have to...have to..." She closed her eyes and her nostril flared as she exhaled. Chloe ran her fingers over the back of Max's hand. She already knew what Max was thinking.

"Max?" she asked, gently pulling her face toward her. "Are you...are you sure?"

"No," she admitted with a quiet, sad laugh, "but I owe her something."

Do I? I don't know... I can't just keep brushing her off. Not now, anyway.

"I'm...confused," Warren said. He'd retracted his feet onto the couch and was resting his chin on his knees. "What are you talking about?"

"I'm going to, uh," Max traced an anxious line under her eye, "I'm going to tell her about...things."

"Wait, what?" Warren rocketed forward. "What are you saying? You can't do that. It'll like..." he threw his arms out at his sides, "it'll be not great."

"I know that," she bit back. "I've been avoiding it like the fucking plague. But she knows too much for any lie I come up with to satisfy her." She groaned. "It's not like I want to. And it's not like she's going to believe me, anyway. But maybe..." She looked at Chloe and shrugged. "Maybe telling her something will make me feel a little better."

"I'm behind you all the way," Chloe replied, putting her head on Max's shoulder. "I trust you."

"I trust you too," Warren explained, "I'm just..." He trailed off like he wasn't quite sure how to finish the thought.

"Scared?" Chloe suggested. He gave the smallest nod, as if ashamed. "It's okay to be. We are, too."

"I'd be pretty nervous if you weren't," Max added, earning a lopsided smile from him. She paused to collect herself. "Okay, okay. Is there anyone else?" Chloe's eyes angled up as she thought, but Warren spoke first.

"I'm not as in the loop with this as you guys are," he said, "so I can't really talk to most of these people. The only other person I can think of is like, one of the teachers..." He bared his bottom teeth in an awkward show of reconsideration. "That's a no. So, other than that, maybe Juliet...?" He furrowed his brow and started mouthing something to himself, then looked at Max and Chloe with realization. "This isn't going to work."

What?

"What do you mean it isn't going to work?" Max asked. It sounded angry, but it was really just worry. She trusted Warren's judgment with most things, so to even hear him utter those words felt like running into a brick wall. "Why won't it?"

"Because..." he gestured to the door, then around himself to stress the size of the issue, "because of him." There was no need to be any more specific than that. 'Him' had practically become a name all on its own. Or maybe it was simply the tone with which the word was spoken. "You had to scramble my brain around just to remind me that he's not supposed to be here. And I'm...I'm a seasoned veteran at this. If everyone else thinks it's normal, then..."

"Oh, fuck," Max spat, burying her face in her hands. "Of course. Of fucking course. Asking about the Prescotts would lead to Nathan and Jefferson and it'd fuck with people's heads."

"And," Warren continued, "not to be all...doom and gloom, but the implications of that are pretty scary." Max and Chloe exchanged looks, then waited for him to elaborate. "If one person understands it's wrong, and they tell someone else, and so on..." He touched his index fingers to his temples to help illustrate his point. "You could end up with a...pandemic of people having brain zaps, and we don't know what the ramifications of that would be."

Jesus Christ, now we have to worry about starting a plague. Great.

"Well, hang on," Chloe said. She'd been quiet for the most part, but Max had noticed she had her 'thinking face' on the entire time. "That's not necessarily true. If we're careful, we can worm our way through it. It just depends on our wording. Right?" She winced at the end, showing her own lack of faith.

"Ehh..." Warren squinted, clearly uncomfortable with the suggestion, "so, dumb question, but are there any alternatives?" It was frustrating, but understandable that he'd be so averse to the idea. He knew better than anyone what the shock feeling was like, and it was hard to fault him for not wanting to inflict it on others. Max sighed.

"It's the best we got," she replied apologetically. "Short of just taking swings in the dark, there aren't any other options." She hoped the tone she used conveyed the 'end of discussion' vibe her parents had always utilized. Warren pressed his hands into his eyes, then sighed as he relented. "I am sorry," she said, wanting to prove that she truly meant it. Warren at least had context to the situation, but surprising anyone else with the revelation that Jefferson shouldn't 'exist' in his current state was a pretty horrifying thought. What would it do to them? Suddenly, a thought occurred to her and her eyes darted to the side as she contemplated it.

Is that too dangerous? Chloe would never allow it. My own body might not allow it. But still... What if...

"Kay, so," Chloe stood up from the bed and rolled her head around on her shoulders, loosening any taut muscles, "we got Victoria, David, Officer Berry, and...Juliet?" She waited for Max and Warren to nod. "And we have to watch what we say so it doesn't break their perception of reality?" Another pause, and another set of nodding heads. She conjured a halfhearted smile. "Cool. Easy peasy."

"Yeah, psht," Warren waved his hand, "no sweat. Child's play, honestly." He looked at Max with cartoonishly large eyes. "So, when did you want to...uh, start?"

"Um..." Max checked her phone, then shrugged, "how about a half hour? Give us some time to get ready." She glanced at Warren's baseball bat and smirked. "Come meet us back here, alright, Babe Ruth?"

"Y'know, Babe Ruth was actually a pitcher at first," he replied with a smile as he stood up. The smile widened, forcing Max and Chloe to reciprocate. "Is that what you guys do? Just...pretend things aren't as bad as they are? Talk like normal?"

"Pretty much, Trivia Boy," Chloe responded

---

Max held the smile for all of ten seconds before it dropped from her cheeks and shattered on the floor. She turned to Chloe with grave concern.

"Tell me what you saw last night," she said, taking Chloe's hand and pulling her back down onto the bed. "That was...much worse than usual, Chlo."

That was awful. It's ALWAYS awful, but that was the worst.

"Sure was," Chloe replied, pinching and pulling on the fabric of her bloodstained shirt. She'd dropped her facade with the change of topic, and was now visibly beaten down. "It was...pretty extensive, I guess? Lots of reruns, some new stuff..." She reached up and traced a circle on her temple, like she was collecting her thoughts around a spool. "It was so confusing. I couldn't understand a lot of it. Things were so jumbled and weird. And there was... I saw things that were different than how I know they happened." She glanced sideways at Max. "I saw Kate jump, Max. And I'm now realizing that's not the first time I've seen that. But that...that didn't happen, right?"

"What?" Max asked, though she'd heard her perfectly fine. "How's that possible?" She pulled her knees to her chest. "No, she didn't jump. I saved her. That never-"

"Max," Chloe interrupted, holding her hands to her stomach. She looked like she was fighting the urge to be sick. "I thought it'd be over once I caught up on everything. Once I saw all of the things I missed. But..." She closed her eyes. "Now I'm seeing things that didn't happen? Things I have zero context for, but that I definitely know are different. I think I, uh..." The sentence lodged itself in Chloe's throat, but Max knew what it was going to be, anyway.

No. No way that can be true.

"You think...you're seeing other Max memories?" She whispered it, afraid to give it the concrete acknowledgment it deserved. "That can't be right."

But there are...a lot...of alternate timelines...

"Why can't it?" Chloe narrowed her eyes at her. Her voice had slipped into the accidental frost they'd both been using more and more frequently. "Max, we don't have a rulebook. We keep pretending like we know what's going on, but we have no fucking clue." She made a sound of disgust and dropped her hands into her lap with a smack.

It was a hard truth, but a truth nonetheless. Perhaps their fatal flaw when it came to dealing with these sorts of things was their unintentional hubris; the prevailing thought that they had things 'under control.' It was true back in October when they were searching for Rachel, and it was still true now. Time after time, they found themselves disappointed when things didn't go exactly as they assumed they would. But the lesson never truly stuck. They had to keep relearning it over and over...and over.

"I think I saw...something from that other timeline you visited," Chloe said, redirecting the conversation. "Where everything was, uh..." she frowned, "where you picked me." Before Max could ask, she shook her head. "It wasn't anything like, visually scarring? Just...you could tell what happened, you know? You could feel it."

"Right," Max dragged her hands roughly down her face, "well, that's one more reason to figure this out. Not like we needed another one, but... Even if we are just going around blind, I am not going to keep letting this happen to you." She leaned forward and clasped her hands behind her neck, pulling herself into an even tighter coil. "I can feel it. I can feel how much closer it is. Like it's breathing down my neck."

It's so...alive.

"Yeah," Chloe replied, the concern on her face betraying the monotone of her voice, "it's crunch time. We need to get something out of today or..." She looked across the room at the gun on Max's desk and her nostril flared. It was just...there, bathing in the serenity of a sunbeam. "We're getting to that point where might have to say 'fuck it' to protocol. To...laws and morality. Desperate measures, you know?" She met Max's eyes. "You understand that, right?"

I guess if we need to save the entire universe, we have to be willing to do whatever's necessary. The, uh, end justifies the means...

"I know," Max nodded. She got up from the bed and twisted her head side to side, sending three quick cracks through the room. It was getting harder to ignore how sore she'd become. She'd already fallen prey to Nightmare Max's warning that she'd lose her mind. It was starting to feel like her body wasn't far behind. "Let's get dressed," she lazily gestured at the rust colored stain on Chloe's shirt.

"Y'know," Chloe chuckled joylessly, "I have swallowed so much fucking blood in the last few months. And my clothes... So many of them are just fuckin' ruined." She tried to remove her shirt and cringed when it peeled from her skin, still sticky from the night before. "That's fucking gross."

"I've gotten my fair share of iron myself," Max remarked dryly, pulling on a fresh pair of underwear. "I can't believe I used to be squeamish with slasher flicks." She shook her head to herself and snatched a pair of jeans off the floor. "Not my idea of exposure therapy."

"Man, when we get out of this, you and I are going to spend a whole week just chilling," Chloe said. "Do nothing but snuggle in bed and watch movies and eat complete garbage. I just..." she sighed, "I just want to be a normal person again." She stepped out of the crumpled ring of denim on the ground and held her arms out at her sides. "Where's my stash?"

"Bottom drawer," Max responded. She'd dressed quickly and had returned to her bed, though she now held her camera in her hands.

I'm bringing you along today. You never know, right? And...I just kind of miss holding you.

She ran her fingers over the camera, taking note of all of its raises and divots. Her eyes strayed to her hand, where the bandage was now brown and filthy with blood. She set the camera beside her and unraveled it.

"Eh, fuck it," Chloe muttered quietly. Max glanced up at her and was momentarily taken aback.

It'd been months since she'd seen Chloe wear her beanie. In fact, she'd guess that she herself had worn it with more regularity than Chloe did. Chloe had also put on one of her now infamous white tank tops. It was the one of a skull with spikes protruding from its head surrounded by a wreath. She'd made a point of saying it was her second favorite tank top, but since her first choice was ruined when Nathan shot her, it had been reluctantly promoted. She fidgeted with the beanie some more, pulling a long lock of hair to the side so it wasn't pinned against her face. Max blinked several times as she took it all in.

That's...vintage Chloe, alright.

"Why you oglin'?" Chloe asked, coming to stand in front of her. She looked down at Max's hand and pouted. "How is it?"

"Uh," Max cleared her head, "it's..." She examined it and found that, more than anything, she was frustrated that it was still so red. It wasn't the kind of red that warned of infection. No, it was more like it was still fresh. Still. "It's cursed or something, I dunno." She held it out for Chloe, who was already returning with the box of bandages.

"Does it hurt?" She gingerly wrapped the bandage once around her hand, then again. "I know I keep asking that. It just looks sore."

"It is," Max admitted, "it's just easy to ignore at this point." Once it was properly covered up, Chloe took her other hand and helped her to her feet. She gave Max a soft kiss on the nose. It was incredible how that always provided such a potent sense of comfort. Max glanced at the mirror and couldn't help but snirk.

"What?" Chloe asked.

"Check us out," she replied, gesturing at it. She maneuvered Chloe so they stood next to each other directly in front of the mirror. Chloe there in her beanie, her tank top, and her patchy pants while Max donned her signature t-shirt, hoodie, and jeans combo. "Familiar, right?"

Just the same as back then, but also really quite different. Partners in crime and time, now with much more of both under their belts.

"We...look like shit," Chloe laughed. "Look at that luggage. Our eyes are going on a permanent vacation. And our messy ass hair..." She took a strand of her own between her fingers, then ran a hand through Max's. "You're still beautiful, though."

"Yeeep, I'm the belle of the ball. Or, you know," she snickered, "the shit of the bathroom." She checked her phone and plopped back onto the bed. "Got a little more time left before Warren comes back..." She tilted her head and regarded Chloe sweetly. "Tell me more about last night?"

Chloe recounted more of her dreams, or what she could remember of them, and Max listened in both awe and fear. There were just so many memories that didn't belong to her. She thought back to Nightmare Max's 'lesson' on the depth of infinity and felt squeamish. How much of infinity could fit into Chloe's head?

Eventually, Warren made his return. He had also taken the opportunity to change out of his massacred clothing.

"Alright," Max said, slinging her bag over her shoulder, "we should divvy up our candidates." Chloe frowned and was about to protest but Max shook her head. "It'll be faster. You know that."

And you can't be here...

"Fine, fine," Chloe relented. "Well, I guess I'll take David and Berry."

"Dibs on Victoria," Max added flatly. She was still at a loss for how she'd handle that. She huffed and looked at Warren. "You got Juliet?"

"Yep, you can count on me," he replied. He clasped his hands in front of him as if praying. "Remember, we need to be careful about what we say." Unintentionally, he eyed Chloe.

"Hey, I got it," she said, giving him a small push. "I know I have a big mouth but give me some credit, alright?"

"Sorry, I didn't mean to," he chuckled. Chloe slung her arm over his shoulders and whispered something, then there was an awkward movement between them. Max was too busy looking through her phone to notice.

"We'll keep each other updated, then meet back here, okay?" Max waved her phone in the air. "Call if something comes up. We need to coordinate as much as possible."

"Sounds good," Chloe responded. She gave Max a quick peck on the cheek. "I'll head home now before David crashes. He worked last night." She then rustled Warren's hair. "Be careful, my perfect son." Before he could complain, she was out the door.

"Alright," he said, rolling his eyes, "I guess I'll go track Juliet down. I hope she's awake."

"Wait," Max grabbed him tightly by the wrist. Her eyes were wide, afraid, and determined. "I need your help first."

---

"Hope you're not asleep yet, big guy," Chloe muttered to herself as she fished her keys out of her pocket. As she cracked the door open, the smell of coffee washed over her, and she sighed in relief.

"David, wake up! I have to ASK YOU QUESTIONS!" Yeah, that would've been awesome.

"That you, Chloe?" David called from the dining room. She made her way through the kitchen and found him sitting at the table, mug of coffee in one hand and newspaper in the other. He smiled and raised the mug. "There's half a pot left if you want some."

Caffeine...

"Actually...yeah, I could go for that," she said. She spun on her heel and darted back into the kitchen. "So, how are you?" she asked casually, plucking a pink mug out of the cupboard. Max had gotten it for her, and she could still hear the girl's proud delivery of 'everyone should have a nice cup o' Chlo in the morning.'

"Tired," David chuckled, "but alright." She could hear the sound of the newspaper being folded back to its original state and then set on the table. She'd never really thought about it before, but she was now aware how that sound was almost always a precursor to someone asking a question. "Hey, is everything alright? I heard you took a few days off from The Two Whales."

"Uhhh, yeah, everything's cool," she responded, returning to the table with her own mug of coffee. "I was just feeling a little vacay, you know." She gave him a knowing smile. "I've been an exemplary employee. Figured I could afford it."

"Fair enough," he nodded, returning the smile. "I'm so proud of you for sticking with it. I know it's hard work."

"Surprisingly hard," she agreed. "You wouldn't think it'd be, but man. I swear my patience has grown Grinch-style since I started there." She took a sip from her mug, then jolted, spitting a mouthful of tea back into it. Eyes wide, she peered down inside of it.

Seriously? I just...I JUST poured the coffee.

"Chloe?" David furrowed his brow. "Are you okay?"

"Yes..." It took some effort to pull her eyes back up to David. "Uh, hey, listen..." she sat forward and pushed the mug away from her, "I've been wanting to ask you about something."

"Shoot," he replied, and Chloe had to fight the urge to squawk 'exactly!' in his face. He clasped his hands and gave her his full attention, meeting her eyes with an exceedingly friendly aura. Looking into them, she was whisked away to a time where they were always at each others throats. Back to a time where she'd say, without hesitation, that she hated him. A sad, flimsy emotion threatened to surface in her chest. She didn't want anything to happen to him. To anyone. She needed to protect them.

We have to fix this... Okay, okay. Careful wording...

"Right," she said slowly, "so...Sean Prescott..."

"What?" David sat forward, his kind expression turning into something fierce. "Has he given you any more trouble?" The response had become so predictable that Chloe was almost tempted to mouth the words as he said them.

Alright, so that checks out... It must be like it was with Warren. Everything's the same except for Jefferson being the teacher. Nathan was arrested but not Jefferson. ...and it makes no sense! So, as long as I focus, it should work.

"No, he hasn't," she said. "But I've been wondering, do you know anything that's like...particularly troubling with him?" He raised an eyebrow.

"What do you mean?" he asked. Chloe didn't answer right away, instead trying to gauge what 'kind' of confusion he was exhibiting. A few seconds passed, and she shrugged.

"Like, what do you really know? What were your interactions with him like? What...kind of stuff do you think the cops will find on him?" She nearly bit the last word in half, afraid it was too straightforward. He let out an exhausted rasp and placed a palm on the back of his head.

"Chloe, I don't know. That part of our life is...is over," he said. She'd never considered how much talking about it probably made him uncomfortable. But, even still...

It's NOT over.

"Come on," she insisted, reaching across the table and tapping his wrist, "it couldn't hurt to tell me. Worst case scenario, it might actually help me." She clenched her teeth. Dangling the possibility of Sean coming after her was an extremely cruel tactic. One that did its job.

"Okay, okay," he sunk back in the chair and pinched the bridge of his nose. "You know I didn't grow up around here, so I had no idea who the Prescotts were when I came to Arcadia Bay. I didn't know all the stories or what people thought of them. I got the job at Blackwell and..." he paused to think about it, "maybe not even three days later, Ray came to me on behalf of Sean. You know, when I think about it now..." He rolled his shoulder and exhaled some tension through his nose. "Even at the time, it seemed like an obvious attempt to curry favor with someone 'on the inside,' but now I can't help but wonder how much he really knew. About my past, about my...general temperament."

Well, that's certainly a starting point.

"What did he want from you?" Chloe asked. In an attempt to maintain a guise of normalcy, she retrieved her mug and took a sip from it.

"At first, he just wanted me to keep an eye on Nathan," he said. "Never really elaborated on what that meant. Even now, I'm not entirely sure if I was supposed to be keeping him in line or protecting him. But he offered money for it. And I just wasn't in a position to turn him down..." He seemed especially ashamed at that. "I wish I'd taken that request a little more seriously."

"Wait, he paid you to just...exist around Nathan?" Chloe eyed him skeptically. "Seems like a pretty red flag there, David."

It's so weird that Sean would put the spotlight ON Nathan if he wanted things to be lowkey.

"It was," David agreed, "and it's what initially made me suspicious of them." He held his hand out. "Of course, I also began to learn about the Prescott legacy just by being here." The corner of his lip pulled up into a snarl. "It's embarrassing. He really was just trying to get control of me so I'd be willing to get Nathan out of trouble."

"You couldn't have known," Chloe assured, laying her hand on his wrist once again.

"I'm not sure about that," he replied, then shrugged it off. "Eventually he approached me about doing security for his Pan Estates project."

"Which is another big opportunity for cash," Chloe said. She took the time to survey the room around her and appreciate that her family wasn't exactly raking in the money. "I guess that fell through once everything with Jeff-" She swallowed the rest of the word and sat up straight.

You fucking idiot. This is already too risky. I don't know what will and won't fry him.

"Hm?" David looked at her inquisitively. Chloe shook her head, and was thankful that David seemed to be on board rolling with the rest of the question. "Yeah, the Pan Estates thing fizzled out, obviously. I made up some blueprints, but it was shut down before it got any further." He stroked his chin. "I still have them, actually. Been holding onto them just in case they'd be useful."

Oh? How convenient... I gotta find them. Something's definitely up with that place.

There was a sudden change in the air, as if it were being replaced by...different air. Like someone had taken the atmosphere of one room and placed it in her dining room. She knew enough by now to recognize it as a distortion, which was easily confirmed by David's lack of reaction. As subtly as possible, she searched around her for any changes.

What the fuck was that? What changed? Fuck! What changed!?

"Listen, Chloe," David said quietly. She glanced at him, but found it difficult to dedicate all of her focus to him. She raised herself in her seat, peering over David and analyzing the furniture. "I...know I've apologized in the past. I know that. But I don't think we've ever really talked about...her." An anchor in her chest, built of stashed away emotion, pulled her back into the seat.

What...?

"Her?" Chloe asked, though she knew who he was referring to. She was mostly questioning the direction of their discussion.

"Rachel." David breathed out slowly and put his head in his hands. "I know I was hostile toward her and I know I always said she was a bad influence on you. But she was a good kid. She didn't deserve...what happened. That sick fuck Jefferson... I just wish I'd trusted my gut a little more." Chloe, wide-eyed, cocked her head to the side and stared at him.

Wait, what? Now he...knows about Jefferson? How the fuck is that possible? Did things...change back?

A sinking feeling, independent of the already present anchor, appeared in her stomach.

"Max..." Chloe whispered.

Please don't tell me you did something stupid. Please.

"Max?" David asked, pulling Chloe's attention back on him.

"Uh, y-yeah," Chloe stammered, "I just sometimes think about how she and Rachel would have gotten along." David nodded understandingly.

"I would have loved to have seen that," he responded. He smiled. "She really wanted to meet her, didn't she? I know she pushed you to reach out to Max." Between trying to understand what was happening and the weight of the conversation, Chloe's head was buzzing.

Rach... Fuck. We'll figure this out. It'll be our last bit of justice for you.

"I'm happy to see you becoming so close with Kate Marsh," David continued, his smile growing a bit warmer. "I like to think that Rachel lives on in her. And in you."

"Max's dad said something similar," Chloe said, trying to quiet her mind so she could focus, "it's a sweet thought." She squinted at him and worked her jaw, trying to summon words. "And, uh, Jefferson..." She let the name sink in, preparing for any worrying reactions. When there weren't any, she moved forward. "He's locked up, so... At least things are taken care of there...?"

"I've tried to become more of a pacifist," David said, "because of you and Max and...life. But it's difficult for me to accept he deserves anything other than death." He screwed his face into a look of uncertainty, as if awaiting for Chloe's disapproval.

Things are back to normal. Okay. O...kay? Why do I have such a bad feeling about that?

"I can't disagree," Chloe replied, trying her best to avoid the images of Max in The Dark Room, "he's a monster."

"Too kind a word," David said. He sighed and rubbed at his eye. "Chloe, talking about this isn't easy for me. Do you mind if we...stop?"

"Uh, yeah." Chloe gave him a big smile. "Thanks for humoring me. I'm sorry to dredge up bad memories. Basically, Prescotts are skeevy and gross."

"And stay away from him," David added. "I don't know if I've necessarily given up hope on anything coming Sean's way, but..." He gestured to himself in a self-deprecating manner. "You know me. Paranoia doesn't go away entirely."

"Understood," Chloe said, standing up from the table. With less spryness than her, David did the same.

"Alright, now it's time for a nice nap," he said, the words fluctuating as he yawned. Without hesitation, he rounded the table and took Chloe into a hug. She closed her eyes and leaned into it.

Nothing's going to happen to you. You're going to be safe.

She watched as he made his way upstairs, and as soon as he was out of sight, she dashed to the garage. Feverishly, but as quietly as possible, she began rummaging through different drawers. It took a surprisingly little amount of time for her to happen upon the blueprints for Pan Estates.

"Yes!" she cheered. She looked over it, knowing it was important despite not really understanding it. It was a victory. A small victory, perhaps, but enough of one. Just as she was folding the papers, her phone's notification alert went off. It was a text from Max that only said one word: call?

---

"Max," Warren hissed, snatching her by the hand, "this is not a good idea." A manic worry etched itself through his features. "I am not letting you do this."

"Warren, listen to me," she responded, spinning back to face him, "I need to try."

"Chloe is going to lose her goddamn mind!" He tugged her hand, harder than she would have ever expected from him.

"Too bad," she said, shaking her head, "she'll get over it." She took a deep breath and looked over her shoulder, scanning the rows of lockers. The school was still relatively empty, with classes not beginning for another hour. "Look, I'm going whether you come with me or not. But I'm asking you to. I'll feel better with you there." Warren gulped, and he let go of her hand.

"Okay..." he said shakily. "But if it starts to go bad, I'm getting you out of there." Pale in the face, he reached behind his back and adjusting something, growing even paler as he did so. Max took his hand again, this time in a much more comforting way, and they continued down the hall.

You can do this, Max. You can do this. You can do this...

She came to a jarring stop just before the door to the classroom and swayed on her feet. She could already feel the sweat begin to collect on her back. It was getting harder to breathe, which meant she was doing too much of it. The sound of her trying, and failing, to catch her breath pulsed in her ears. She squeezed her eyes shut tight, rooting herself to the floor and the world, and managed to banish her tremors. Before they could reappear, she hurried into the room.

He was at the desk, clutching a thermos in both hands as he read something on his computer. Totally innocuous. Still handsome. Just...sitting there. Like it was normal. Like he wasn't a murderer. It took a moment for him to notice them, and when he did, he quickly swallowed whatever it was he was drinking.

"Max Caulfield!" he greeted with a smile. "There you are! I was beginning to worry. Are you feeling alright?" He studied her for a moment. "You do seem a bit pale..." She'd forgotten how filthy her name sounded when carried by his voice. The urge to turn and run from him was overwhelming. Warren took a step forward, providing at least some form of barrier between them. "And Mr. Graham, good morning!"

His smile was so kind. Even now, it had a trustworthy sense to it. But all she could see was his silhouette looming over her, taunting and barking commands. Just a blur moving in and out of her vision as he found new angles to steal from her. A disgusting cloud of camera clicks passing over her. And the needle... The way the tiniest bubble of liquid clung to the end of the syringe.

I hate you.

"Mark Jefferson," she said weakly. She wasn't addressing him. It simply slipped out.

"Mr. Jefferson," he corrected gently. "What can I help you two with? I don't have class for..." he squinted at the clock on the monitor, "another hour and half." Max swallowed her nerves and tensed her sweaty palms into fists.

"Can Warren and I speak with you...privately?" she asked, pointedly not addressing the correction to his name.

"Of course," he responded easily, getting to his feet. He passed them on the way to the door, and Max moved closer to Warren. He closed the door, locked it, then leaned against one of the desks. "What did you need to talk about? Is it about your absences?"

Max didn't respond right away. The way he postured himself on the desk forced her thoughts to stray to Maddie. Where was she? Was she still around and simply somewhere else? Or...had she been completely replaced? This wasn't just a different timeline. It was an infected timeline with unpredictable properties.

Come on, Max. You have to snap out of it.

She took a slow breath in. What would she ask and how would she ask it? How would Jefferson react? She'd developed some hazy theories, but there was no way of knowing what would happen. But then she thought of Kate up on the roof and all caution was torn from her body in horrible sorrow.

"I want to talk about the Prescotts," she said, her voice flat and frigid.

Jefferson's reaction was one of surprise, but not necessarily suspicion. Warren glanced at her, and she could tell he was bracing himself.

"Where's this coming from?" Jefferson asked.

"I just have questions," she replied. She studied his face, all of the lines and details that had been seared into her nightmares. There was nothing there of the murderer she knew. Just a man concerned for his students.

"Fair enough," he said, nodding solemnly and crossing his arms, "I can understand the desire to learn more about what happened. I'll help in any way that I can."

She again made eye contact with Warren, and the uncertainty in his eyes echoed the same one in her mind. What if this Jefferson really hadn't done anything wrong? Or...maybe he did and just didn't know it.

It. Doesn't. Matter.

"Well, first," she said, clutching Jefferson in her sight, "I want to know what really happened with Nathan in the bathroom."

"You know what happened," Jefferson responded with a frown. "You were there, weren't you?" He raised an eyebrow at his own question, like he'd become less sure of the answer.

"We just want your take on it," Warren added, once again making sure he was standing between Jefferson and Max.

"It's difficult to talk about." Jefferson sighed and removed his glasses. "Nathan had been..." He stopped speaking. "He was..." He furrowed his brow and glanced to the side, searching through his memory. Max and Warren exchanged looks.

Yep. That's what I thought.

"Nathan was..." he stopped again and grew concerned. "Ah, see, he was..."

"You can't remember?" Max asked, though it was more a twist of a knife than a real question.

"It's the funniest thing..." Jefferson finally looked back at them. "I can't recall a single detail. That's..." he chuckled, "well, that's worrisome."

You really can't remember. Huh. How about that.

A delighted snicker flitted through the room, and it took a moment for Max to realize it came from her own mouth. Warren shot her a worried look. Not just worried, but pleading. He'd come to some sort of conclusion that she'd yet to reach herself.

Thousands of threads, each following a single thought, twisted and knotted through her brain. Tangling and bunching, it became the kind of mess that only a pair of scissors could solve. There was a phantom warmth in her hand; the unmistakable heat that comes from fresh blood. The ghostly feeling of thorns digging into her palm while she threatened the entirety of Arcadia Bay – the whole world – and vowed to start taking action.

To stop letting things happen to her, and to be the one that goes for the throat.

The predator, not the prey.

She eyed Jefferson, who sat stewing in confusion, and an ugly, disastrous smirk came to her lips.

"Max..." Warren said cautiously.

"Can't recall a thing, you say?" Max asked. Jefferson shook his head. "That's interesting, because I actually do know what happened."

"Max," Warren repeated, this time with more weight behind it. She glared at him, her eyes so engulfed in fury that he was stricken still. Then he turned to Jefferson and contemplated for a moment. His jaw went taut and he simply looked away from both of them. It was as much of a blessing as she was going to get.

"Well, what did happen?" Jefferson hadn't noticed the brief exchange. "I can't believe I'm blanking like this."

"How about Kate Marsh?" Max asked, ignoring him. "What do you know about her?"

"Uh..." he searched around him, trying to find where she'd drawn the question, "she's a sweet girl. Quiet, but..."

"And Rachel Amber?" Max interrupted. "How about her?"

"It's a shame what happened to her," he said, with a noticeable punch of discomfort in his voice. "Max, I'm afraid I'm not sure what you're getting at here..."

"Could you, you know, elaborate on what exactly happened to her?" Max pressed. A buried part of her conscience really wished she wasn't smiling.

"Well, she..." he wobbled and brought a hand to his head, "woah, I just got dizzy."

"He doesn't know any of it," Warren said involuntarily, "wow..." Max made a dry, affirmative click in her throat and took a step toward Jefferson.

"What are you talking about?" he asked Warren, but Max waved the question away.

"Nathan Prescott killed her," she said, "and he almost killed Kate Marsh and Chloe Price." Jefferson winced, bringing his other hand to his head and applying pressure. "Starting to come back?" she mocked. "But Nathan was working with someone." She scoffed and rolled her eyes. "Though 'working with' is probably too generous. He was actually being manipulated by someone. Someone who would take disgusting photos of girls in a place called The Dark Room..."

Jefferson gritted his teeth and slipped off the desk, landing on his knees. Warren grunted at the sight, knowing he looked exactly the same just the day before. Max took another step closer and bent over, drinking in his pain. She was determined to rip every last detail from the sepulcher of Jefferson's sins, just as she'd done with the Blood of Arcadia. She'd revisit them, out loud, regardless of the thorns they sported.

"Wait, Max, I-" Jefferson began.

"Yep. Nathan Prescott and another person. They'd take the girls to a bunker on the edge of town. When they were unconscious," she pantomimed holding a camera, "they'd take photograph after photograph..." She twitched her index finger, simulating the snapping of photos. Jefferson gasped and twisted, his knuckles white as he clutched his head.

In truth, this process did have a little more to it than simple cruelty. If Max was going to get any real answers to her questions, she'd need to ask them to the real Jefferson. Not the impostor so blissfully unaware of his own crimes.

At least, she hoped that's what reminding him would lead to. But, even if it didn't...

"Max..." he whined.

"It even happened to me," Max said, her voice so calm that it was verging on lifeless. "He even did it to me..." She watched as Jefferson convulsed, now growling in pain and... frightened. He was scared of her.

Always take the shot, right?

"You even did it to me, Jefferson," she whispered. "You did it to me, just like you did to all those other girls. Dozens of binders full of them." Jefferson yelped and lurched forward, his shoulders heaving. "You remember now, Mark?" He planted a hand on the floor to keep himself upright and looked up at her. His nose was bleeding. "Do you remember standing over me and taking pictures?"

"Max," he whimpered, before buckling once again. The sound of his teeth grinding together was loud enough for her to hear. "What is going..." He suddenly went silent. He was trying to focus through the pain, his eyes skittering up and down Max's body. A trail of red ran from his other nostril. There was something about the way he looked at her...

Does he-

Jefferson was back on his feet, lunging toward Max like an animal. She just barely sidestepped him, and he stumbled forward, colliding into another desk ribs-first. Max took several hurried steps backwards, and he flung himself at her once again. She caught a quick movement from Warren in her periphery.

"Don't fucking move," Warren commanded, though his voice cracked with fear. Trembling, he aimed the gun at Jefferson. "Chloe g-gave it to me," he stammered, explaining before Max could even ask, "just in case of anything w-with him..." He took several panicked breaths, then stepped toward Jefferson. "As a last resort. We...weren't supposed to actually search him out."

What the fuck! God dammit. This is got out of control.

"Are you okay?" she asked, much more concerned with his comfort level than anything else. She remembered what it was like to hold the gun on Frank. In response, he simply glanced to the side and faked a wide smile.

"This doesn't make sense!" Jefferson snarled, keeping his hands raised high above him. Then, something rippled through him, distorting his image for the slightest moment. "What the fuck is going on!?"

"Jesus..." Warren said, sounding almost sickened, "he's trying to figure it out, but...I mean, he can't. It can't be put together." Still with arms raised, Jefferson dragged his nose across one of his sleeves, wiping off some of the blood. He then took a clumsy step toward the door. "Dude," Warren jostled the gun in his hands, "I would not try to leave this room right now."

Fuck this. Don't take your foot off the gas.

"Now that you're caught up to speed," Max said, making sure to keep her distance, "you're going to answer my questions. Tell me everything you know about Sean Prescott. Now."

Reality dragged its finger along Jefferson's spine, sending another ripple through him.

"Where am I?!" he shouted, swinging back to confusion and terror. It was like he'd only just realized he was lost.

"Right now? Well, you're in prison," Max responded. She cocked her head and eyed him deviously. "...what are you doing here?" Jefferson went down on one knee, hissing in agony. The entire right side of his body flickered in and out of a bright orange jumpsuit several times before settling back to normal.

What's happening to him?

"Prescott," Max repeated.

"What about Prescott!?" he bellowed. "He's a slimy, greedy piece of shit! I don't know what you want from me!"

"You really need to be more quiet," Warren insisted, forcing a puny attempt at a threat in his voice.

"What else do you know about him?" Max asked, barreling forward.

"What do you want me to tell you?" Jefferson said through his teeth, taking Warren's demand seriously, much to the boy's surprise. "About him and Nathan? He treated the kid like shit. Hit him, cursed him, didn't care about him at all..." His eyes widened and he shook his head. "Wait, Nathan...?"

"You killed him in another timeline," Max responded, watching as he fell onto his rear and gasped for air. His figure shivered, and he was wearing different clothes. A white dress shirt, the sleeves rolled up... Latex gloves covered his hands. Max didn't flinch. "I already know about what he did to Nathan." She thought for a moment, then glared at him. "Did he know about The Dark Room?"

"Of course he did," Jefferson spat. Max couldn't help but let out a small gasp. "Fucker threatened me. Wanted me to keep Nathan away from the 'action.' To stop involving him." He laughed bitterly as another rush of blood passed his lips. "What he didn't know was that it was already far too late for that. Rachel Amber was already dead." He closed one eye, unsure of what he was saying. "...timeline?"

Nathan had no idea his father knew...

"Christ," Max swept the hair out of her face. "Sean must not have been able to figure out how to remove Nathan from the situation without causing damage."

"Well," Warren said quietly, "that's...illegal." He shrugged at Max. "Now we know at least one of his crimes." With Warren's attention on Max, Jefferson began to struggle to his feet.

"You killed Victoria Chase," Max said icily, toppling Jefferson onto his back. Warren looked at her in shock. That was new information to him. His nostril flared and he aimed the gun at Jefferson more steadily.

"What...am I?" Jefferson lamented, twitching weakly on the floor. "I don't...understand any of this."

"A monster," Max answered, relishing his contorted body. "Do you know anything else about him?"

"Like what?" he rasped, his head lulling side to side.

"Anything!" Max stomped her foot on the ground. "You watched Kate Marsh stand on the roof about to commit suicide. You shot Chloe Price in the junkyard. You picked Victoria Chase for the Everyday Heroes contest." He sobbed and arched his back, blood dripping from his face onto the floor. Each sentence sent him into a deeper spiral of anguish. "Anything!"

"I don't know!" he responded, staring up at the ceiling. He couldn't even lift his head to meet her gaze. "I only met him a few times, what are you expecting me to know?!"

"You watched it snow on October 7th," Max said, throttling Jefferson into the floor. Beside her, Warren sucked in a sharp breath and wobbled. She noticed, but didn't deviate from her train of thought. "You killed David Madsen. You sat with me in Wells' office after Kate almost jumped."

"I don't know anything else," he cried, "I don't know anything." With great effort, he angled his head so he could see her. "Max, I'm sorry. Please. I don't know what's happening to me."

"You texted Chloe and I from Nathan's phone," she raged, "you fucking lied about not knowing what was wrong with Kate. You blamed her!" Jefferson thrashed and pawed at the floor for something to hold on to. "You fucking jabbed me in the neck with that fucking needle! You fucking disgusting pig!"

"Max!" he screamed, loudly enough to cause Warren to glance at the door. "Please! Please! I don't know anything!" Max allowed him to writhe for a moment, then she regained her cool.

"Nothing else?" Her voice was solid, unwavering. "You're sure?"

"I promise, Max," he said, working himself back into a sitting position. It seemed to take every ounce of strength just to remain upright. "I promise. Please..."

Warren looked at Max expectantly. He was ashen from top to bottom and sweating profusely. Max closed her eyes and summoned all of the most heinous thoughts of Jefferson she could. All of the torture he'd put her and those she loved through. She clenched her fist. There was something she'd been wondering for a very, very long while. It was a morbid curiosity she'd never dare to investigate. Until now.

"David Madsen," she began slowly, looking him square in the eye, "shot and killed you in The Dark Room."

Jefferson went rigid. His eyes were pried wide open, as if an invisible force was clawing at his eyelids. They shimmered with horror, then rolled into the back of his head. He eked out a few pained noises, then a waterfall of blood gushed from his nose. His face contorted, bending into a shape not meant for a human being. His shoulder was torn upward, stretching his body in an impossible way.

He flickered once, and his jaw drooped into his lap. He flickered again, and his foot ballooned into a sphere. He flickered a third time, and he was gone.

The silence left behind had all the density of a black hole. Max and Warren stared at the empty spot where Jefferson sat only a moment ago. An entire human, erased right before their eyes. Even the splatters of his blood were gone.

Suddenly, there was something like a breeze in the air, though she didn't feel it on her skin. She could only notice its existence. Warren searched around him, showing that he felt it, too. It swept across the room, then disappeared into the wall. It left things the slightest bit different. Most immediately noticeable was the change of décor, specifically the photos on the wall. They were taken by Maddie.

Max took one long, slow breath in...then broke down in tears. Warren was by her side instantly, and together they made their way down the long hallway of lockers, back into the sun.

Once outside, Warren led her behind the gymnasium, where other kids often gathered for secret smoke breaks and vandalism. Max thrust her back against the wall, then slid down until she was crumpled on the ground. Head in her hands, she cried silently. Warren knelt in front of her and put his hand on her shoulder.

"It's okay, Max," he said. She was grateful he made the decision for her, rather than asking her own opinion.

"Oh my god," she mumbled into her hands, "oh my god..."

What did I just do? What happened to me?

"Hey, it's alright," Warren insisted. "It's over, okay? He's gone."

"Do you..." Max looked up at him, her big eyes holding both tears and fright, "do you think I'm a psycho?"

"Max, I pointed a gun at him," he answered with the faintest of snickers. He grew more serious and he shook his head. "It was scary to see you like that, but..." he shrugged, "if you felt like it was justified, then I trust that. You would know better than anyone what he deserves."

I feel like I'm going to throw up...

"I can't believe that just happened," she said, putting her weight on the wall behind her. "Did it change back? Is everything back to normal?"

"It seems like it, but I guess we can't really know..." Warren looked down in thought, then back at her. "Hey, I...noticed. Like, I could tell things changed."

"Oh..." Max wiped at her eyes, "maybe because you know about it now?" Warren sat beside her, relaxing for the first time in a long while. "Well, at least that means we won't have to constantly catch you up on things." She held her hand out in front of her and watched as it trembled, then she turned to him. "Are you okay?"

"Ah..." he exhaled harshly, "I've never even held a gun before. I don't feel great about it, no." He hung his head. "Chloe must have a sixth sense."

"Fuck. Chloe." Max sighed. "I need to call her and tell her."

"She is going to kill me for letting you go," Warren said, baring his teeth as he cringed.

"Better than me going by myself," Max responded. "Trust me, she knows I would've gone with or without you. She'll be grateful." She dug her phone out of her pocket and wrote a single word: call? Not five seconds later, the phone was ringing.

"Hey," Max answered. Her voice was noticeably weak.

"Is everything okay?" Chloe started to ask before Max had even gotten through the word 'hey.'

"Uh..." she softly bounced the back of her head off the wall, "I guess? I don't know. But I have to be honest with you about something." There was a space of silence where Chloe should have responded, but there was only the sound of a truck door closing. "I did something... You're going to be angry at me, but-"

"Please," Chloe said quietly, but the word had a sharp point on it, "do not tell me what I think you're about to tell me."

"But Warren went with me and-" she began to say, but she was interrupted.

"Fuck!" Chloe screamed, loudly enough that Warren winced. Max could hear the sound of a hand beating against the steering wheel. "God dammit, I fucking knew you were going to look for him. I fucking knew it. I shouldn't have left." There was an extraordinarily frustrated growl. "I really, really hoped you weren't going to. I'm so stupid." She steadied her breathing and switched gears. "Are you okay? What happened?"

"Really hard to explain right now," Max replied, "but I promise I will when we meet back up." Chloe growled in protest, but Max continued. "The important thing is that he's gone now. We think things might've changed back..." She looked at Warren for confirmation, getting only a shrug in return.

"That must be why David knew everything all the sudden," Chloe mused.

"What do you mean?" Max asked, pressing a button on the phone's screen. "You're on speaker now."

"Hey Chloe," Warren said. "Sorry, Chloe."

"Hi bud," she responded. "So, in the middle of when I was talking with David, I noticed this weird...whatever. Time fuckery. And next thing I know, he's talking about Jefferson like everything's normal."

"That's...promising," Max leaned forward and looked over Blackwell's campus, where students and teachers moseyed without a care. "That might mean we can talk about stuff without worrying about messing people up."

"Should still be careful," Warren added. "Maybe ask a qualifying question to get a feel for things, like you did with me. Ask who the photography teacher is?"

"Good idea," Chloe said. There was a breathy pause. "Listen, do you need me to come back? I can be there in a few minutes."

"No, keep working on your targets," Max replied. "I still have to talk to Victoria. I'll be fine. I'm fine."

Not fine. I'm so sick.

"Targets," Chloe parroted with a sardonic chuckle. "Alright, okay. Call me if anything else comes up..." She let out a deep sigh. "I love you. I'm a little mad at you. But I love you, okay?"

"I'll take it," Max said, holding the phone closer to her face. "I love you, too."

"Me too!" Warren added just before Max hung up.

---

It was so rare for her to drive even a mile without music blaring, yet the mechanical rumble of the truck gliding over pavement had become the soundtrack of the past few days. She wasn't much in the mood for music, considering all that was happening. At least, that was what she told herself. But in the recesses of her memory, she remembered a time when she and her father came across a funeral procession while they were driving. Upon seeing it, William had turned the stereo off, and claimed it was an act of respect. It said more than enough about Chloe's subconscious opinion on the current state of things.

Her eyes slowly moved to the stereo, and she pressed the 'eject' button. With a whir, a plain, blank CD popped out. There was something written on it in sharpie, though it was partly obscured due to the other half of the CD remaining in the disc slot. Carefully, she removed it and looked it over. It said Sweet Songs, but 'sweet' was crossed out and above it, in a different handwriting, was the word 'sexy.' She could hear the echo of conversation.

"Chloe, what the hell! I already MADE a 'sexy' mix for the truck."

"Oh, pardon me, Your Majesty. Maybe I should change it to 'Salty Max Mix,' hm?"

"Whatever, you dork."

With her finger through the hole in the center of the disc, Chloe rolled it like a wheel across the dashboard. A rainbow streak shimmered off of it, and she imagined she could see all of the track titles in the colors. Sometimes, it still caused her to stop and think about everything. A list of songs, all about love, that she could truly and honestly relate to. She believed in all of the lyrics and could apply them to her own life. It was insane to have someone that made all of those songs meaningful and...real. How many others were so lucky?

I am...so mad. How could she do that? What if something happened to her? What would I do? I'd be so fucking lost.

With a reluctant 'tch,' she slipped the disc back into the stereo. Even when angry with Max, all she could really do was love her. It was frustrating in the most lovely way. She twisted the knob and allowed the bouncy tune of 'Finding Something To Do' to come through the speakers. She smiled, sighed, then leaned back in the seat.

You've really got me wrapped right around your finger, huh?

She turned her attention across the street to The Two Whales. Which, if the parking lot was anything to go by, seemed to be caught in a particularly busy breakfast shift. She had gotten lucky that the police cruiser happened to be in the very first place she looked, but now it was a matter of waiting for Officer Berry to return to his car. She'd go inside, but Joyce was there, and she didn't want to make things more complicated than they already were. She also didn't want to risk discovering any new changes to her mother. She looked at Frank's RV and narrowed her eyes. She missed Pompidou.

I bet I look sketchy as hell just sitting here. Like a total creep.

She grabbed her phone off the seat next to her and opened up a game she'd been playing recently, hoping it might quell some of her restlessness. Just as she was about to start a new match, she noticed the high score counter in the top right corner. It was far higher than any score she'd ever gotten.

"Wait, what?" she asked aloud, though nothing but the music was able to respond. Squinting, she poked on her profile and saw that her username was different. Realization dawned on her. "Oh, are you fucking serious?" She tossed the phone beside her with a huff. "Great. I just got my ass kicked by myself from a parallel universe." She looked back up through the windshield just in time to see Officer Berry heading to his car.

"Oh, shit." She rolled the window down and stuck her head out. "Yo! Berry!" He searched around him for the source of the voice, then smiled when he finally saw her.

"What are you doing out here?" he asked, approaching the truck. "Shouldn't you be in there delivering food to the fine folks of Arcadia Bay?"

"I'm off today," she said casually. "Also, you might be using 'fine' a little loosely." He smirked at her, then looked back over at the diner.

"So...do you usually spend your days off spying on it?" he chuckled.

"Someone has to make sure it doesn't burn down," she replied with a grin. "But no, I was actually hoping to run into you."

Ease into it, Chloe.

"Me?" he asked. "To what do I owe the pleasure?" As soon as he asked, his expression shifted to something much more serious. "Is everything okay?"

Ah, yeah. I guess like...why else would I track him down?

"Yep, all good in the hood," she responded. He perked an eyebrow.

"Arcadia Bay doesn't have a hood, Chloe," he snickered. "Well, what can I do for you, then?"

Mmn.

"Oh, well, uh..." She puffed up her cheeks, then let the air out. "I mean, I did sort of want to talk about Sean. A little bit." Officer Berry's features regained their severity.

"Chloe, has he done anything that I should know about?" he asked. "Please, be honest." She thought about when they crossed paths in the parking lot, but decided against mentioning it.

"No," she said, "I just wanted to..." She looked him in the eye and put on the most mature 'I can handle it' face she could muster. "Be real with me. How dangerous is he? Really?" Officer Berry frowned.

"You don't have to worry," he said, shaking his head. "We're not going to let anything happen."

"I know," she replied, tracing circles on the dashboard, "I understand that. But I still want to know."

"Look," he said, sighing wearily, "the truth is, I don't know how dangerous Sean is. For all I know, he's never hurt a fly." He turned his gaze in the direction of the bay as he contemplated, then he looked back at her. "But nothing good comes from having his attention." He furrowed his brow and once again averted his gaze, this time toward the diner. He seemed to be deliberating his choice of words. "What happened in there that day, with you and Frank Bowers... That's the first time he's ever behaved like that. It's worrisome."

He's unraveling. Desperate?

"I'm special," she smiled, though she only received a stern glare in response. She sunk a bit and smacked her lips. "So, have you guys found anything interesting with the investigation?"

"Truthfully, the case has been mostly taken out of our hands," he admitted, then gave her a knowing look, "but you know I wouldn't be able to tell you anything, anyway." Chloe nodded understandingly.

Damn. This was sort of a bust... Oh, wait, I saw something...

"Ah..." she cringed, nervous she was pushing too far, "you know, I heard once that you were working for Prescott." Officer Berry recoiled in surprise, then frowned.

"How do you know that?" he asked.

"Through the grapevine," she replied, then held her hands out defensively, "it's okay, I'm not judging. David was, too. I know Sean just roped people into that sort of thing."

"Christ," he muttered, "no secrets in Arcadia Bay, huh?"

"Except for Sean," Chloe pointed out. He scoffed and nodded.

"Right," he said. He rubbed at the back of his neck, then rolled his eyes. "Yeah, Sean paid me to keep an eye on Nathan. Just to make sure he wasn't getting into trouble." He struggled to finish his thought, and Chloe could see the sadness in his eyes. "Fucked that up, didn't I?"

He's just like David. It's so...weird that Sean had so many eyes on Nathan.

"It's not your fault," Chloe said. "Things just...got out of hand." It was a severe understatement, but neither acknowledged it out loud. She decided against asking any more questions, as she was fairly certain she'd get the same story she heard from David.

"Just," Officer Berry reached through the window and gently patted her arm, "promise me you'll be careful? If you see him around, leave. Call me." His eyes angled upward in thought. "He's been out of town, but I think he'll be back within a day or two." Chloe raised an eyebrow, and he held out his hand in explanation. "He might not be locked up, but we still have to keep tabs on him." A fuzzy voice came through the walkie-talkie pinned to his chest, though it didn't seem dire. "I'm not trying to scare you. Like I said, nothing is going to happen. But just...be careful, alright?"

He's not...home? That's interesting...

"Uh, yeah, I promise," she said, trying to hide her optimism. She started the truck, but he put his hand on the door as if he might hold her there.

"How have you been holding up since...the graveyard thing?" he asked.

"Oh, I mean, yanno," she responded, rocking her head back and forth. "I'm sorry about that, by the way. I was just...missing my dad a lot that day." She scrunched her nose at the twitch of emotion within her.

Knock it off, Chloe.

"It's alright, Chloe," he gave her a small, sad smile, "I understand. Just wanted to make sure you were doing okay."

"Yep, I am," she said. She thought for a moment. "Did you cover his accident at all?"

"No," he shook his head, "my superiors dealt with it. But I was the one who took your mom to the hospital."

Huh, I didn't know that.

"Thank you for that," she said. His walkie-talkie sputtered out a few more distorted words and Chloe shifted the truck into reverse. "Sounds like you got a big...thing to get to. I won't take up any more of your coppin' time."

"Nice talkin' to you, Chloe." He smiled at her, then slapped the roof of the truck. "Have a good day."

---

Please, for the love of god, just be alone. That's all I ask.

Victoria's door was open before even the third knock. There was no greeting. No smile. Max was too tired to fake it, and Victoria's expression was too sharp to hold one. She took a small step back, giving Max enough space to enter the room.

"Start talking," Victoria demanded, flinging the door shut hard. Max took a moment to feel relief that Kate was in fact not around, but Victoria cut it short as she gripped her by the shoulder. "I'm not mad, okay? I'm not. But...you have to give me something to work with here." She pointed to her temple. "I'm losing my fucking mind."

"Vic, look..." she thought for a moment, then decided to feel out the situation. "Hang on. Who is the photography teacher here?"

"What?" Victoria couldn't hide her irritation. "I'm not in the mood for games, Max."

Yeah well, I'm not much in the mood for anything right now, Victoria.

"Who teaches photography at Blackwell Academy?" Max repeated, enunciating each syllable.

"Jesus Christ," she flailed her hands, "fine. Madison Waters. Why are you asking me that?"

That's a relief. Ugh, okay. I need to handle this better.

"Victoria," Max caught one of the girl's swinging hands, "I don't want to do this with us being antagonistic with each other. Please?" Victoria's expression softened and she nodded. She took a seat on her bed, then patted the space next to her. With a sigh, Max joined her.

"Sorry," Victoria said, "it's just... You guys went through all the trouble of making me care about you. So, I mean, I'm fucking going to." She looked at Max pleadingly. "You've been scaring me."

"I don't mean to," Max replied, "things are just...complicated." She rolled her eyes, then ran a hand through her hair. "You don't understand. This is crazy."

"Just trust me," Victoria took her by the hand, "whatever it is, I won't judge you or freak out or anything. I just want to know what's happening." She didn't mean to, but Max laughed.

Oh, you will in fact judge me AND freak out.

"That was an accident," she said, trying to soothe the wounded look from Victoria. Max took a deep breath, then screwed her face into an uncertain expression. She opened her mouth to speak, then closed it. She closed her eyes, opened them, then clamped them shut even tighter. All the while, her distress became more visible.

"Take your time..." Victoria said quietly, squeezing Max's hand.

Yeah, that's about the gist of it. Okay, enough, Max. Come on.

"Okay," she said, trying to calm herself, "I'm going to be honest with you, but I have a disclaimer and three conditions that need to be upheld." She held up three fingers. "You NEED to agree to them, or this conversation stops right this second."

"Of course," Victoria replied, taking offense.

"Promise me." Max's voice rattled in her mouth.

"I promise, Max," she reiterated. Max hesitated and Victoria nodded to further prove her claim.

"The disclaimer is, you are not going to believe what I tell you, but I can prove it if you need me to." Max looked her in the eye. "But if I do, it will hurt."

"Wait, what?" she asked, leaning away from her. Max held up her hand, stressing that there was no room for debate.

"The first condition," Max continued, "is that, like I said, I'm going to be honest with you. And I mean that. But..." She laced her fingers with Victoria's, hoping it would make her sound more sincere. "I will only tell you what I deem is important for you to know. I will be withholding information. But you have to trust me when I say it's for the best." The girl began to argue and Max glared at her. "Victoria." She said her name with enough edge to stomp out Victoria's fight. "The second is that, under no circumstances can you speak a word of this to anyone else. It is very important that you don't. There are consequences to telling others..." She paused and angled her head. "Not even Kate."

This is...so dangerous.

"Y-yeah," Victoria stammered, now understandably on her toes. "I won't. Uh, what's the last condition?"

"I'm going to ask you some questions about something, and you have to cooperate with me," Max said. "No arguing." She watched as a hostile sneer bloomed on Victoria's face. As she had feared, it seemed as though three demands was pushing her luck.

Dammit.

"Max, what the fuck is this?" she asked, pulling her hand free. Max couldn't be angry about her resistance. She didn't blame her at all. Victoria was trying her hardest to be there for her friend, and all it seemed Max was giving in return were threats. She fought down the tears she knew would eventually come.

"You saw the blood last night," Max said, carrying a softer tone as she took Victoria's hand back, "it was Chloe's." Though it was the most obvious conclusion, Victoria still seemed shocked.

"Well...what the fuck happened? Is she alright?" Victoria nodded at Max's bandages. "And what happened to your hand?"

"She's...okay," Max said, choosing her words carefully, "and I sliced it up on a flower's thorns."

That is...true.

"Oh," Victoria responded, apparently satisfied with that explanation. "But what happened to Chloe? Why was she bleeding?"

"I'll get there, but first I have to explain..." Max let out a small, melancholic laugh and shook her head. "I hate this. I hate saying it out loud." She jutted her jaw out and looked up at the ceiling, thinking she could perhaps find solace there. "God, I hate this." Victoria rubbed her other hand along Max's arm. "Okay, so..." Max smiled, and it was one of the biggest lies she'd ever told, "I can time travel. Like, uh, rewind time? But also just normal time travel."

She expected the silence to be brief before it was broken by Victoria's laughter. To hear the 'ha ha, very funny' that she'd received when she told both Chloe and Warren. A moment passed, and...nothing. Not even the faintest hint of a giggle. Max finally looked at her. The girl's eyes were narrow and searching very, very thoroughly.

"I don't know what to say to that," she said with the most minute bit of irritation. "You're...crying. You're fucking crying." Max brought a finger to the flesh just below her eye and felt the wet streaks that scarred it. She knew she'd cry eventually, but was disappointed at how often it happened without her even noticing. "This is complete bullshit. You're obviously fucking with me. But..." she tilted her head and reached for Max's cheek, wiping one of the tears away with her thumb, "you're crying. Those are real tears."

If you knew how many 'real' tears I've cried, Vic.

"I'm telling you the truth," Max squeaked, holding Victoria's hand tight against her cheek. "It's...such a long, scary story. B-but, back in October when Nathan shot Chloe in the bathroom, he..." Saying it always hurt. "He killed her. And I was in the bathroom with them. I jumped out and everything just...moved backwards."

"Max, I'm really trying," Victoria shut her eyes and exhaled forcefully, "but you know how this sounds. You...do know?"

"Yes," Max responded, wiping a new batch of tears from her face, "I'm aware. Like I said, I can prove it, but...it's going to hurt you."

"Do it." Victoria didn't hesitate.

"Are you absolutely sure?" Max asked, and Victoria nodded. "Okay, so, I'm going to tell you something involving you from another timeline and it's going to make your head feel funny." She figured 'predicting' that part of it might help win Victoria over. "Alright, so..." she searched her memories, "at one point, you, Taylor, and Courtney were blocking my way into the dorms." The corner of Victoria's eye twitched, but she kept a straight face. "And to get in, I rigged a paint can that splashed a bunch of white paint all over you." Victoria looked away, grunted, then gently touched her fingers to her head. Her eyes were wide.

"Do it again," she said.

"It'll hurt more," Max cautioned.

"I don't care," Victoria snipped, "just do it."

I don't know how many times I can do this with you, Vic.

"Kay, uh, you..." she paused to think it through, wanting to stay away from the myriad of negative memories, "you...and I talked at a Vortex Club party about being friends?" She wasn't sure if that was going to be enough, but Victoria lurched forward and pinched the bridge of her nose. She drew in air through her teeth, then reached out for Max to steady herself. When it subsided, her eyes were even bigger, and her jaw hung as far from her face as it could without dislocating.

"What...what the fuck?" Her lips turned up in a petite smile, but it didn't compromise the look of disbelief. "So, wait, okay..." She seemed to be debating whether or not she would commit to believing Max. "So, you can...time travel? Right now? Can you predict the future?"

Does she believe me? Just like that?

"It works a little differently than that," Max responded, then she took on a grave expression, "but I don't do it anymore. I'm sorry, but there's no other way I can prove it to you. It's okay if you don't believe me."

"I don't...really know if I do or not," Victoria admitted, "but I'm a fuck of a lot closer than I was a minute ago." She stood up from the bed and ran her hands through her hair over and over. "Why don't you do it anymore? And what do you mean another timeline?"

"There are serious repercussions to doing it," Max answered, "and I lived a few days in a timeline different to this one. Chloe, too." She saw the expectant look on Victoria's face and shook her head. "I'm not going to elaborate."

"But...but, you can't just drop this on me and-" Victoria was pacing back and forth in a frenzy.

"You promised," Max said, putting as much power into it as she could. Victoria frowned.

"Sorry, you're right, it's just..." she frantically waved her arms, "obviously I have a million questions!"

"I know, and I'm sorry I can't go into more detail," Max said, clearing the last of the tears from her cheeks. "But the point is, it has had some side-effects on me and Chloe." Victoria perked an eyebrow. "That's what the nosebleeds are. That's what happened to me at the diner, and that's what happened to Chloe last night."

"But the screaming..." Victoria interjected.

"Sometimes it hurts," Max rubbed her hands along her arms, "really...really badly."

"Well, but..." she glanced around her, "are you guys okay? Like, is it something we need to be worried about?"

Oh, Vic...

"We're fine, yeah," Max said. "It's been happening since October, but it's rare. We're physically healthy."

I guess?

"Okay," Victoria said, relieved. "I guess it...kind of makes sense, in a way. With how close you and Chloe are? I always thought it was like, some kind of magic." She opened her mouth wide. "Wait, is that how you knew Kate and I would work!? Were we a thing in the other timeline?"

The silhouette of Kate standing on the roof, soaked in rain and despair, landed on Max's head like a cinder block. The image of Victoria looking up at her, recording the whole thing on her phone. It was the complete opposite of how things were now. And that was the crux of this entire conversation. Under no circumstances could either of them learn the truth about what happened. If not for that, Max might have even told both of them months ago. She believed in the power of love. Really, she did. But some things were stronger, and those things needed to be buried deep in the recesses of time and space.

"I'm not going to mess with your head again," Max replied, thankful to have an excuse she could express.

I'm sorry. But you can't know.

"Argh," Victoria threw her head back and spun in the center of her room, "this isn't fair!" She came to a stop as realization struck her, and she regarded Max guiltily. "This...isn't cool to you, is it? You were crying."

"It's complicated," Max explained, "but yes, it's been a source of...trouble."

"Sorry," she said quietly, taking a seat beside her once again.

"It's alright," Max managed a weak smile, "it's kind of unfair to expect you to act any other way..." Her brows knitted together. "So, wait, you believe me? Really?"

"I mean, no but yes?" Victoria held her hands out in front of her. "I believe you but it's hard to accept that something like that is even possible."

"That's how Warren was too," Max snickered. Victoria recoiled, suddenly looking offended.

"Warren knows?" she asked. She puckered her lips and seemed like she was about to complain, but then she grew contemplative. "How...how do you guys just...act normal? It's kind of like, earth-shattering."

"I don't know," Max admitted, "I think we each went through our existential crisis phase and after that it's just... You just carry on the way you do with everything else." Max frowned. "This is why I didn't want to tell you." She made sure to look Victoria in the eyes. "Listen. It's going to bother you for a long time. I think me, Chloe, and Warren are lucky it didn't drive us insane."

Or maybe that's debatable.

"Yeah," Victoria whispered, "wow..." She shifted uncomfortably. "Um, okay, so..."

"Victoria," Max reached for her hand once again, "I know. I know how difficult it is. And we can talk more about it later. I promise. But I have to ask you some things."

"Oh, right." Victoria continued to stare at the floor. Her brain was already in the process of trying to comprehend everything. A pang of guilt circled through Max as she watched her. "What did you want to know?"

"I need you to tell me anything you know about Nathan's father," Max said. She guessed that might snatch Victoria's attention back to her, and was proven correct.

"Does he have something to do with this?" she asked. "Does Nathan?" Max sighed.

"In the interest of being honest with you, the answer is maybe," she said. "We don't know, but we think it might be possible." She looked at her with pleading eyes. "Can you tell me if you ever noticed anything weird about him? Or anything worth mentioning about his behavior?"

"Um, everything?" Victoria replied, working some anger into her voice. "I was never really around him all that much. Nathan didn't even like being near him, so we steered clear for the most part." She shot a sideways glance at Max. "But I learned enough about him... The way he treated Nathan. And Nathan's sister bailed as soon as she could to like, the rainforest or something."

I forgot about that. I wonder why Nathan didn't bring it up.

"She just couldn't bear to be in the house anymore," Victoria continued. "I don't think she was treated the way Nathan was, but still. I remember how much it upset him. She was always the one who helped him."

"What about his mom?" Max asked, realizing she'd never come up in any of her conversations.

"Only met her once," Victoria responded. "Honestly, she seemed pretty normal. Maybe a little nervous, but nowhere near as much as you'd think considering who her husband was." She stopped to think. "I do remember Nathan saying she wanted to leave Sean but couldn't."

"Well, that's understandable," Max said, to which Victoria nodded in agreement. "So, you just know that he's an asshole. Nothing in particular sticks out?"

"Yeah," Victoria shrugged, "not much help, I know. I mean, I always thought it was weird that he funded the Vortex Club shit and everything, but he was probably just flexing his wallet."

Oh, that's right. The End of the World Party. How...coincidental.

Max felt a buzz in her pocket, and apologized to Victoria as she took her phone out. There were texts from both Chloe and Warren stating that they'd finished their 'assignments.'

Okay, time to meet back up. Didn't get much from Vic but I don't think that's why I really came, so... Alright.

"Sorry, Vic, I have to get going." Max started to get to her feet, but Victoria caught her by the sleeve.

"What, seriously? You're just leaving? After telling me all of that?" she asked. She was completely stunned.

"I'm sorry," Max said, "I know. I told you, we can talk later as much as you want." It occurred to her that asking about Sean established some sort of need to worry, so she decided to refocus. "Hey, things are okay, alright? They're just little nosebleeds every so often. But now you know why I was so secretive."

"Yeah," Victoria said quietly, "thank you for telling me." She stood up and wrapped Max in a big hug. As she returned it, nightmarish prickles began to sprout through her mind. Was this the last time she'd ever hug Victoria? Had she doomed her to a spiral of insanity? How much time was even left before... She blocked the thoughts out and tried to savor the culmination of an unlikely friendship.

"We'll talk later," Max repeated. "Until then, just spend some time with Kate to help you calm down." She nibbled her lip, then moved Victoria by the shoulders so they were eye to eye. "You can't tell her. No matter what." Victoria gave a lighthearted pout, and then went pale. It was as if she'd suddenly realized something. She nodded in agreement.

"My Katie," she said with a sick, weary smile.

---

Warren was in the process of relaying all of the nothing he had learned from Juliet when the door opened. Chloe swung it shut behind her and marched over to Max. She loomed over her, staring down harshly.

"Max," she said, "I can't fucking believe you went looking for him. What if something happened to you!?"

"I know, Chloe," Max replied, sounding much more tired than apologetic, "it was risky. I know that."

"I just..." Chloe puffed up her chest, then exhaled, letting her arms fall limply at her sides. "What would I have done with you? I need you."

"I'm sorry," Max took her by the hand and pulled her onto the bed with her, "I made Warren come with me?" She nodded in his direction.

"She sure did," he responded, then he pointed at the desk. "Your gun's over there. Please never make me hold it again."

"You used it?" she asked.

"Kinda," he said, wagging his hand left and right. "I didn't have to fire it."

"Shit, dude," Chloe shook her head, then shot a sour glance at Max. "I'm sorry. I hoped you wouldn't need it for anything." She stuck out her tongue, releasing an elongated 'bleh' sound, and turned to Max. "Don't do that to me again, okay?" She cupped her cheeks and kissed her. "Please?"

I know that I can't promise that. She knows that, too.

"I'll try," Max offered, and Chloe accepted it reluctantly. She patted herself on the thighs, then cleared her throat. "Okay, now that we're all here, let's share."

Warren started, repeating everything he'd already said to Max. Though he didn't express it directly, it was clear he was disappointed in himself. Max reassured him that it was more than okay, then took her turn to speak.

Admittedly, she hadn't learned all that much about Sean either. Still, it wasn't like her 'interviews' were in vain. Between her...experience...with Jefferson and her talk with Victoria, she'd consider her day rather eventful. She struggled when she described her encounter with Jefferson, and relied on Warren to pick up the slack whenever she faltered. It was difficult to tell what Chloe was thinking as she listened to them, but it was probably a safe bet to assume it wasn't exactly positive. Finally, Max told her about Sean's knowledge of The Dark Room.

"Of fucking course he knew," Chloe huffed, hiding her face in her hands. "It was stupid to believe he didn't. I wonder why Jefferson hasn't snitched."

"I expect Jefferson is very...encouraged not to," Max remarked grimly.

"He's really a bad dude, huh?" Warren asked. "I mean, I started the day knowing almost nothing about him other than the Two Whales incident. It's bizarre."

"Uh huh," Max agreed. She sighed and leaned her shoulder into Chloe. "What about you, babe? Anything?"

"Actually, yeah," Chloe replied, causing both Max and Warren to perk up. She slipped her arm around Max and snickered under her breath. "I hit the fucking jackpot. I...think?" She wriggled as she dug into her pocket and produced a folded batch of papers. "These are security blueprints for Pan Estates."

"Oh shit," Max bolted upright and yanked them from Chloe's hands. "I forgot about this! I saw them in the other timeline." She studied them, then smacked the back of her hand against them. "Look, this one is the layout for the building that's actually built! I totally recognize it." Max praised her with a peck on the cheek. "This is awesome, Chlo."

"And how does that help us?" Warren asked. There was nothing cynical or argumentative in his tone. He was just genuinely curious.

I mean, I don't know. I'm sure they'll come in handy someh-

"Well," Chloe said, now sporting a rather triumphant smile, "I also learned that Sean isn't currently in Arcadia Bay. He's out of town." As she spoke, her eyebrows raised higher on her face. Though she'd possessed both parts of information, she was only just now stumbling across their sum. She gave Max a knowing look.

Sean isn't here? So...

"We're going," Max said, lunging for her phone. "Maybe around one? It has to be late."

"Uh," Warren leaned back and placed a hand over his heart, "sorry, what? What's up?"

"We're going to Pan Estates," Chloe answered on Max's behalf. "Something is up with that place, and this is the perfect opportunity to scope it out." She stroked her fingers across her forehead as she thought. "Okay, we need supplies. Maybe like..." her eyes strayed to Warren's baseball bat, "uh, that."

"Wait," Warren pumped his hands out in front of him, "we're going to Pan Estates? Tonight? To do...what?"

"What we do best," Max chuckled, "stick our noses where they don't belong."

"Oh," he replied, "yeah, okay. Cool." He buried his face in his hands and let out a muffled groan.

"You don't have to come," Chloe said, then recoiled when he glared at her. "Okay, okay, fine. Just putting that offer on the table."

"Alright," Max stood up and clapped her hands. Adrenaline was already surging through her blood. "Alright, alright. We'll leave here around one."

"And we'll swing by my place to raid the garage," Chloe added.

"Good idea," Max said. She grew thoughtful, then turned to Warren. "Hey, until then...maybe you should spend some time with Brooke." Something about the way she said it sounded like a warning.

Just in case. The last time we did this...things spiraled pretty fast.

"Right," Warren responded, swallowing audibly. "I'll, um, do that."

He left shortly after, leaving Max and Chloe alone. Chloe pulled Max into a vice of a hug and kissed her on the forehead.

"Are you okay?" she asked. "With...what happened with Jefferson?"

"Eh..." Max shook her head, "no. I'm not. But it can wait until later. We have more important things to deal with."

"Just tell me when you want to talk," Chloe replied, deciding not to force the issue. "I'm here."

"I know," Max said, holding Chloe's arms around her tighter. "And it's staying that way."

---

The uneven grumble of the truck's engine came to a stop. The headlights cut off, allowing the darkness to slither over them without restraint. Even with the windows up, the nocturne of insects was crystal clear. A flame appeared, and for a moment, Chloe's face was visible. Then, it died, leaving only a small, red glow behind. The smell of smoke filled the truck.

"Are we going to be able to get out of here in a hurry if we need to?" Warren asked. Chloe had swerved and worked her way through a fragment of the forest so that the truck was well-hidden. He leaned forward and strained his eyes as he propped his elbows on the dashboard. There was a quiet snicker beside him, and the red dot flared to a bright orange.

"Don't know," Chloe replied. A quick succession of draws kept the ember vibrant, then she flicked the cigarette onto the floor and stomped on it, working her foot back and forth until it was ground to nothing. "Cross that bridge when we come to it?"

"Sure," Warren chuckled. He turned to Max and nudged her with his shoulder. "You okay? You've been quiet since we left Blackwell."

"Yeah, sorry," Max said, "just...in the zone, I guess." She reached beside her and placed a hand on Chloe's leg. "We ready?"

Ready... Yeah, alright.

"Very," Chloe responded, throwing open the door. "It's finally our turn to make some noise." She slid out of the truck, followed by Max. They met Warren at the bed, where Chloe gripped the edge and flung herself up into it. She sat down on the side and began rummaging through a backpack while Warren retrieved the other two. "Okay, here," she said, and a small click summoned a white beam of light. She handed the flashlight to Max.

Max swished it through the trees, half expecting to reveal a slew of animals keeping them under surveillance. Another ray of light appeared, and then a third as everyone situated a flashlight of their own. Warren handed one of the backpacks off to Max, and a laugh from Chloe drew her attention. She shined the flashlight in her face, eliciting a groan.

"Fucking blind me, why don'tcha?" Chloe snirked.

"Sorry," Max winced, aiming the light just to the side. She couldn't help but smile at the sight. Chloe had wrapped a bandana around the lower half of her face, obscuring most of her features. It was imprinted with the lower half of a skull, giving her a wide, ghoulish smile. When combined with her beanie, only a small sliver of her face could be seen. There was something sweet in the way that Max knew, without a doubt, she'd be able to instantly recognize the person behind the mask from across a room.

You can't hide those eyes from me, Chloe Price.

Chloe tossed another bandana to Max, and then held one out for Warren. He slung his backpack over his shoulder, then took it from her. Staring at it, he bunched it in his hands, then shook his head with a snort.

"I can't believe this," he said, tying it around his face, "do you guys understand how crazy this is?"

"Dude, welcome to the fucking club," Chloe laughed as she hopped back down to the ground. "We did this shit for a whole week." She slipped her backpack on and gripped the straps. "This is our bread and butter."

"Yep," Max said, pulling her hood up over her head, "we're pros at this point." She hefted her camera in her hands, checking to make sure it had film for what must have been the tenth time. Tucking it away in her pack, she adjusted the cloth around her face. "We're finding something tonight even if it kills me."

"Alright, well," Warren slashed across her with the flashlight several times, "let's not get to that point." With a sigh that seemed to once again acknowledge how absurd he found the situation to be, he retrieved the baseball bat from the back of the truck. He tapped it against the crowbar sticking out of Chloe's bag. "We look like we're going to fuck someone up."

"Maybe, ya never know," Chloe shot back playfully.

Emerging from the woods almost felt like being shot out of a cannon. To go from the crowding of the trees into the vast openness of the Pan Estates lot might as well have been stepping into a different world. Though it was dark enough for the flashlights to still be necessary, there was a noticeable glow cast over the area by the moon. Max looked up at it, almost surprised to find it there.

Where'd you go the other night? Just...took a little break?

They made their way to the looming, lonely structures near the center of the plot. Draped in shadow, they reminded her more of tombstones than buildings. Maybe that was appropriate, seeing as how Sean's legacy had withered and died here. The thought did bring some amount of satisfaction to her. She lit the back of Chloe up with her flashlight and giggled quietly to herself.

Ah yes, a super secret ninja with...long, blue hair. Might not be as sneaky as you think, Chlo.

"Okay, hold up," Warren said after they'd gotten a bit closer. Chloe whipped around to him and narrowed her eyes.

"What?" she asked with a bit of bite. "Warren, I love you, but if you have cold feet than you just need to get your ass back to the truck and wait for us." There was a slight bounce in her movement, conveying just how antsy she really was.

"No, no," he held his hands up defensively, "I just...I brought... hang on." He sloughed his backpack to the ground and unzipped it. He produced an oddly shaped object, then a rectangle that lit up when he touched it. Max let out a deep, scandalous laugh.

"You are going to get in so much trouble," she said, slapping her palm to her face. "Does she even know you took it?"

Strangely enough, they were laughing and joking more now than they had all throughout the past few days. It was their most vital, nerve-racking escapade so far, yet somehow their spirits had never been higher. Maybe it was just the sense of progress that came with their endeavor. Or, maybe it just felt comfortable. Familiar.

"Uh..." Warren hesitated as he navigated through the tablet, then he looked up at her, "no." The drone beeped twice, and several of its lights began to blink. "That's why we are going to be very careful."

"This is the scariest thing you've done today, and you pointed a gun at someone earlier," Chloe giggled. "But...it's a really good idea. Good thinking."

"Well, if we crash it, you might as well shoot me," he said dryly as he flitted his hand. "Anyway, this should help us get a lay of the land as far as security is concerned. Just gotta get close enough for the range."

"That's...fucking smart," Max admitted. Warren gave her a thumbs up, and she could tell he was beaming proudly beneath the mask.

Okay, letting him get involved has definitely proven to be a good idea. So far.

They crept a bit closer to the unfinished building and Warren handed the drone off to Chloe. He quickly grasped her hands and repositioned them, stressing the need for her to be careful.

"It's got night vision," he said casually, then shook his head, "which is...I mean, it's illegal to fly these at night, so I don't know what Brooke is doing with it." Chloe held it away from her and it lifted into the air.

"Maybe she likes to bird watch," Chloe suggested with a chuckle, "or...owl watch?"

"She'd probably give it Predator vision if she could," Max added, earning an agreeable laugh from Warren. "What exactly are you looking for? It's probably barren."

"Yeah, I know," he responded, "I'm just doing a quick little test spin." He shrugged and looked her way. "Can't hurt right?"

It will if you bust that thing up somehow.

The drone went higher into the air, then slowly made its way to the building. Warren's brow remained in a perpetually crinkled state as he focused on the tablet. Chloe moved close to Max and gave her a nudge.

"So," she said, quietly enough that the words were meant to be only for Max, "I just wanted to take the opportunity to say you are very cute."

"Dude," Max snorted, jostling her back twice as hard, "you are such a loser."

"Maybe so," Chloe replied, roping her arm around Max's waist, "but I still got you. So in the long run, I'm actually a wi-"

"Oops," Warren looked up from the tablet, even though it was too dark for him to see whatever it was that appeared on the screen. "Wait...what?" He pointed at the drone. "Flashlight." Both Chloe and Max aimed their lights at the drone and a confused, frustrated growl was shared between them.

"A camera?" Chloe dropped her head back and huffed into the night sky. "For real? This place isn't even fucking finished. There's...windows missing on the second story!"

"No, no, wait," Warren said, "it's not hooked up. I can see the wires dangling..." Chloe leaned closer and strained her eyes. "Not like that makes it any less weird, of course."

Just how paranoid are you, Sean? Installing cameras before the place is even put together?

"Gasp, a lucky break? For moi?" Max said sarcastically. "Can you check out the rest of the place? Just in case." Warren nodded, and the drone began the process of circling the house along the gutters. Chloe tiptoed her way to the corner of the building and looked up at the camera. She reached up for it, though she came nowhere close to actually touching it.

"I wanna smash it so bad," she said with glee.

"I found another one but it's not hooked up either," Warren said as the drone came back into view. He clicked his tongue against his teeth in thought, then turned to Max. "One of the tarps on the second floor came loose. There's a little opening. I could...fit the drone through and check out the inside?"

"Woah," Max raised her hands, absolving herself of any consequences. "As long as you think you're a good enough pilot, go for it. Just..." she laughed, "Jesus Christ, just be careful."

"Please," he scoffed, looking back down at the tablet. "So, realistically, what are we trying to find? Or...expecting to?" The drone slipped through the small opening, eliciting a triumphant 'yes!' from Warren.

"I don't know, man," Max sighed, shining the flashlight across the thick, overgrown grass. The light slipped and washed over each blade, emulating the moonlight's dance on ocean waves. "Anything. A scandal, proof of criminal activity, a fucking demonic altar with a goat head..."

"I hope it's not that last one," Chloe said, traipsing back to Max. She closed one eye and a soft 'hmm' rose in her throat. "Actually, that one would probably be our best bet, huh?"

Without warning, an endless darkness crashed down upon them. Max jerked her head back and gasped at what she saw. Or, she tried to, but no sound came out. The sky was empty. There was no moon. No white, timid light showering the land. It was just...black.

The hairs on the back of Max's neck stood up, and she was struck with the sensation that something was making a fist in her stomach. It crawled up through her ribcage, then settled behind her sternum. There was a pressure, as if she were buried under the exhale of the Earth's lungs. The familiar, primal fear that she was being watched swarmed on her from all directions.

She pointed the flashlight at Chloe's face and found the girl still as a statue, her eyes wide with dread. Something like a whimper crawled from Warren's throat, and she turned to shine the light on him. His expression mirrored Chloe's. Max tried to speak again, just to say...something, but her mouth wouldn't even open. Suddenly, all three flashlights began to flicker. They pulsed like a strobe light for several seconds, then they went out.

Deep within the forest behind them, something stirred. The movement renewed the weight Max felt inside of her.

That same feeling as before. What...what is that?

A piercing howl erupted somewhere in the distance, followed by screeches that came from above. A bassy roar, belonging to something Max had only seen at the zoo, rolled along the grass until she felt its breeze on her ankles. A deep, bellowing groan swept over them. She recognized it as a song she'd heard coming from the ocean.

The presence in the forest coiled around itself, choking the breath from Max's lungs.

And then it was gone.

Not just gone. It disappeared so instantaneously that it was almost like it was never there. As if someone, or something, had changed their mind before anything actually happened. All that was left behind was the muffled sound of something smashing against a hard surface. All at once, their flashlights came back to life, and the moon returned.

"You guys...felt that, right?" Max asked, fighting to find her speech.

"What...was that?" Warren's voice shook heavily. "Max, what was that?"

What the fuck... What ARE you?

"I don't...know," Max admitted. She turned to Chloe, who simply nodded, answering the previous question. "It was familiar. From when I..." She stretched her fingers and looked over the bandage wrapped around her hand. Chloe took it in her own and Max could feel her trembling. "I don't know. I really don't."

"Guys, I'm not sure..." The exposed part of Warren's face was terribly pale. He smacked his lips a few times, making Max aware of just how dry her own mouth had become. Then, with a bolt of terrified realization, he turned to the tablet in his hands. "Fuck! Oh no. No, no, no!" It was then that Max realized what caused the smashing sound.

"Oh, shit," Chloe hissed, sprinting over to him. "What happened!?"

"I don't know!" he panicked. "I couldn't pay attention!" He jabbed it several times and clenched his jaw. "Fuck! Fuck!" He dropped one arm to his side and used the other to wind his fingers through his hair. "Oh man, this is so bad, guys. We have to get it back."

"Okay... Well," Chloe turned toward the building and looked it up and down, "did you notice anything inside that might be a problem?"

"Not that I saw," he replied, "but I didn't really get a chance to look before...whatever the fuck that was." Frantic, he shook his head and pointed at the forest. "What the fuck was that? What just happened?"

"Warren, I don't know," Max said softly, "I'm sorry, but I don't." She raised an eyebrow as she watched Chloe scooped the baseball bat off the ground. "Uh, what are you doing?"

Woah, woah. Hold up.

"We need to get it back," she argued, slinging the bat over her shoulder, "at the very least so Warren has a chance to not get dumped on his ass." She gave him a conciliatory pat on the shoulder when he groaned at that. "Plus, leaving it behind could get Brooke in trouble." Without waiting for Max's inevitable agreement, she strolled over to the building and peered through the window.

God dammit. I know she's right, but...

"No, no, hang on," Warren said, waving for Chloe to come back, "I don't want to ruin this just for the fucking drone. We can leave it if we have to." Chloe sighed frustratedly and backed away from the window, then leveled the baseball bat in their direction.

"Listen," she said, "we're running out of time. Literally. We can't afford to not...fucking do things just because it's bad." She used air quotes on 'bad' with her free hand. She gazed at Max specifically, and her pupils shrank in the flashlight's beam, leaving only crackling, frosty blue. Though she wasn't happy about it, Max understood. Chloe was reiterating the same point she'd made earlier.

Nothing's more important than saving the world. I know, I know.

Ever since the buzz of the drone had vanished, the space between their words was filled with a pillowy quiet. It insulated the entire clearing, making it feel disconnected from the rest of the town. They hadn't seen even one pair of headlights coming from the far off road. They were all alone. Or...there weren't any other people around. Max couldn't help but glance over her shoulder at the forest.

The purity of the quiet was suddenly shattered, along with the glass of the window. Max looked back just in time to see Chloe winding up another swing with the bat. She turned her face away as more glass sprayed over her, the shards glistening as they were caught in the moon's light.

"Be careful," Warren said, far too late for it to be put into practice. A breathy chuckle could be heard as she jabbed the bat forward and swished it around, clearing out the rest of the window.

Jesus, Chloe! At least warn us.

"Phew!" She dragged the back of her hand across her forehead in a dramatic fashion. "I was going to say, like, 'Open Sesame!' or something but I thought it might sound lame."

"Yeah..." Warren crept toward her, "it wouldn't have been the coolest thing I've ever heard." Max checked the perimeter with her flashlight, just to be sure, and then she joined them at the window.

"That felt great!" Chloe handed the bat off to Warren and flexed her bicep. Max could see practically see the impish grin right through the bandana. Chloe double-checked the frame of the window for any stray glass, then took hold of it. "Seriously, you guys should try it."

Tempting, not even gonna lie.

"Maybe later," Max said, taking hold of Chloe's waist and guiding her as she pulled herself up onto the windowsill. "Please, just be careful."

"What, is this not safe?" Chloe replied, tracing an arch over her head. She snirked and hopped down, landing inside the building. Max passed the flashlight to her and she gave it a quick wave through the room. "So, uh, are we going to talk about that...thing out there?"

"I told you, I don't know." Max stepped on one of the larger shards of glass, breaking it into smaller pieces. "It was the same thing from when I pulled out the flower."

"I have never felt that way before," Warren said, shining his light through the window, adding its power to Chloe's. "I mean, that was almost piss my pants worthy."

"I wouldn't have told anyone," Chloe said thoughtfully, moving further away from the window. She zipped the flashlight left and right. "This place is big. You didn't crash it upstairs did you?" Chloe eyed the staircase to her left skeptically. "I'm not sure how I feel about all that."

"Okay, first of all, I didn't crash it," Warren shot back, "the fucking ghost of Arcadia Bay or whatever did. Second, I have no idea where it is." Chloe turned and pointed at him.

"Young man, do not use that tone with your mo-" She shrieked and stumbled away from the stairs as something came thumping down them. Her light jerked away from whatever it was, leaving it obscured in darkness. Without thinking, Max threw herself over the window's edge and into the house.

"Chloe!" she shouted, hurrying over to the girl. She grabbed her in a tight hug. "Are you okay? What happened?"

"It's behind you," she whispered, slowly spinning Max around. She aimed her flashlight just in front of her and was met with a...

"Is that a dog?" Warren called, hanging over the windowsill. "What the hell...? Is that the drone in its mouth?!"

Warren was right...partially. There was indeed a canine sitting just before them. It stared up at them calmly, merely observing the girls with Brooke's slightly misshapen drone pinned between its jaws. Really, the only thing not technically correct about Warren's observation came from his perspective. He was further away from it than Max and Chloe were, so he couldn't see just how big it was.

"It's a wolf," Chloe responded with quiet caution.

"Uh, ah," Warren stuttered, trying to keep perfectly still. A harder task than usual, considering he was half in and half out of the house. "What do you want me to do? What's it doing?"

"It's not doing anything," Max said, her eyes not leaving the wolf. She sucked in a sharp breath as it took a step forward, almost as if to say 'well, now I am.' Slowly, it lowered its head to the floor, and dropped the drone at her feet. It looked back up and began to wag its tail.

Uh... oh. Oh.

"Oh," Max said, vocalizing her realization, "you're one of them. You're..." She squinted at it, and it cocked its head curiously. "You're a good doggy?" A silent laugh brushed against the back of her neck and Chloe rearranged her hold on Max into a less protective stance.

"A friend of our doe?" she asked, receiving a thought 'mm' from Max in response.

"Guys, I'm..." Warren fell from the windowsill onto the floor with a loud 'oof!'

"It's okay, Warren," Max said. Then she turned her flashlight on him. "Wait, are you okay?"

"Yeah, yep, I'm good," he replied, picking himself up. "Are you sure it's fine?" As if responding to him directly, the wolf nudged the drone with its nose, pushing it closer to Max. "Oh. Uh, alright..."

Suddenly, the wolf took off, charging in Warren's direction. He yelped and wrapped his arms around himself defensively, but was surprised to see it pass by him and leap through the broken window. A moment later, it barked.

"Jesus Christ," he muttered, pressing a hand over his heart. He looked up to find Max handing him the drone.

"Here," she said, "it's a little smashed but...maybe it still works?" He turned it over in his hands, then rolled his eyes.

"I've never been broken up with before," he said solemnly, clumsily placing it back into his pack. Another bark came from outside. "What's it doing now?"

"Think it wants us to follow it," Chloe responded, already helping Max up over the edge. Before Warren could question further, she continued. "It's not the first time. Just...roll with it, okay?"

I still can't tell if the animals are good or bad...

Once outside, they found the wolf patiently waiting for them. Its tail was still wagging, making it look much less threatening than it really was. Then, it turned away from them, and started to trot away. They gathered all of their supplies and, without a word between them, followed it.

It became clear rather quickly that the wolf's guidance was unnecessary. It was leading them right where they were planning on going – the completed prototype house. Max actually found it somewhat humorous. It seemed as though the animals were frustrated, like they were saying 'here's your fucking drone, now get to the point.'

The wolf came to an abrupt stop and whipped around to face them. It bared its teeth and growled, bringing the three of them up short. Just as quickly, it returned to its docile state, but snarled again when Max took a step forward.

"Are we going to die now," Warren droned. It wasn't even framed as a question.

"No," Max shook her head, "I think it just wants us to stay here." The wolf barked, confirming her suspicions, then hurried over to the building. It came to another stop at the corner of the house and pawed at the wall. Chloe followed its gaze, dragging the flashlight up to the corner of the roof.

"It's a very good doggy," she said, circling the camera. There was a faint, red light blinking on and off. She turned her back to Max. "Get the blueprint, maybe we can figure this out."

"Alright, so," Warren sat down on the ground and bounced the tip of the baseball bat against the dirt, "I know I keep saying it, but this is a little crazy." He looked at them. "It's a little crazy."

I know, dude. You're doing way better than I thought you would.

"You're doing great, Warren," Max said. She unfolded the blueprints and held her flashlight over them. "Alright, so that's this corner here," she pointed to a circle on the paper, "which means..."

"Puppy," Chloe called, shining her light on the wolf. It turned back to her, awaiting her question. "How do we do? There's lots of cameras." The wolf tilted its head, pondered for a moment, then pointed its muzzle to the sky. A howl, haunting and melodic, filled the air. "No, puppy, that's very loud," Chloe murmured, dropping her own volume to a whisper.

A moment later, the beating of wings broke through the night, and they watched as four massive ravens began to circle the house. Finally, one landed on the corner just above the camera, spread its wings, and dashed its beak into the lens. It repeated the action, then took to the air once more. It eased its talons around the rod connecting it to the wall and worked itself back and forth until it popped off with a satisfying crack. The same sound rang out three more times, signaling the destruction of the other cameras.

"Yo," Chloe blinked slowly, "that was...hella crazy." She snirked and looked at Warren, waiting for him to enthusiastically agree. When she turned the light back to the house, the animals were nowhere to be found. "Wait, what? Where did they go?"

"Gone," Max replied simply. "They disappeared when the light wasn't on them. I checked. Like the darkness just swallowed them up."

I guess that means we're good to go?

"Oh, alright, sure." Chloe grabbed Warren by the forearm and helped him to his feet. "So, that was a freebie. That's okay. We take those."

"Damn right we take those," Max agreed, heading toward the building. She immediately went for the window and tried to open it, huffing when it remained shut. "Alright, now what?"

"I mean," Chloe gestured to the bat in Warren's hands, "I feel like we already know the answer to that particular quandary." Max pulled the bandana down, allowing Chloe to see just how severe her frown of disapproval truly was. "Alright, alright. I got this." She led them to the backdoor and produced a small set of tools from the pocket on her backpack.

Oh, really? Check you out, master thief.

"Yeah, that worked real well last time," Max said, rolling her eyes.

"Oh, shut up," Chloe shot back, "I didn't exactly have the right equipment at the time." She dropped to her knee and gestured for Max to aim the flashlight at the lock.

"Why...didn't you do that for the drone?" Warren asked. Chloe stopped and glanced back at him.

"Uh, look, breaking things is fun," she mumbled, turning back to the lock, "and a lot easier."

"The ravens seem to agree," Max mused, "we're really racking up some property damage. Sean's not going to be very happy."

"Good," Chloe snipped, "that fucker should never feel happiness for the rest of his life. I hope h-" She gasped at the loud click that came from the lock. "What? WHAT?" She gripped the doorknob and twisted, opening the door. "Holy fuck! That worked!? Wow!" She jumped to her feet and held her arms out wide. "I'm a fucking boss!"

"You didn't think you'd be able to do it, did you?" Max asked. Before Chloe could argue, she laughed and lifted her mask, giving her a kiss on the temple. "Great job, babe."

"Are we sure there are no cameras inside?" Warren braced himself on the door frame and leaned into the home. "I mean, if they were outside then...?"

"Puppy didn't stick around, so I think we're okay," Chloe said, perhaps too confidently. She took two steps inside and spun around, blinding Max and Warren with her flashlight. "We basically have a pet wolf, isn't that rad?"

"A little, yeah," Max chuckled, pushing Chloe further into the home.

The backdoor led straight into the living area, providing clear view of the front door on the other side. Though it was a short distance from front to back, the building was anything but small. Rather, it would best be described as compact. It coiled around itself, with one hallway stretching from the main room that allowed entrance to several others. An ornate staircase descended into the middle of the room, presumably leading to a second story constructed in a similar way. But what really held Max's attention was just how...full it was.

"This is...bizarre," she said, shining the flashlight across the array of furniture. "I know they said he had a prototype made, but I didn't expect it to be so, uh, finished."

"Yeah, really," Chloe responded, examining the other side of the room. "I'm kind of surprised there aren't any squatters, even with the security. You could live like a queen." She 'hmm'd' and the room was suddenly filled with blinding light. Max and Warren turned to her in a panic, finding the girl with a finger under a light switch. Without being prompted, she flicked it down, allowing the darkness to return. "Uh...sorry."

Jesus, I hope no one saw that.

"Wait, there's working electricity in here?" Warren asked, dragging the flashlight along the ceiling until it stopped at an overhead light. "I mean...I realize the cameras were hooked up to something, but this goes a little beyond a demo, don't you think?"

Okay, this is definitely...something.

"What is he doing with this place?" Max leaned around a corner peered down the short hallway. It was lined with doors and ultimately led to the kitchen. "I'm going to check this out, okay?"

"I'll check upstairs," Warren offered, leaning on the bat as if it were a cane. "Maybe there's something up there."

"Careful guys," Chloe said, continuing her search through the parlor. She prodded one of the cushions on the couch and then waved to Max.

Max cautiously made her way down the hall, stopping once to shine her light around a moderately sized bathroom. Curious, she approached the sink and turned one of the valves. To her surprise, water came rushing out.

"What was that?" Chloe called. "Max? You okay?"

"Running water," she replied, "I'm good." She turned the water back off and smirked at Chloe's incredulous 'what the fuck.' Backing out of the bathroom, she continued on into the kitchen. Now with something of a pattern to check in on, she went directly for the fridge and yanked the door open. It was empty, but the light did come on and it was indeed cold.

Has someone been living here? What is going on?

She moved to the center of the kitchen and leaned against the slender dining table, surveying the room around her. It was fairly barren; there were no dishes or decorations to speak of. No small appliances, spice racks, or pots and pans. None of the little things that would establish something as a 'real' home. Still, all of the necessities seemed to be functional.

"Really nice bedroom up here," she heard Warren call down from the floor above her. Just to satiate her own curiosity, she went over to the stove and twisted the dial. A light came on, warning that the burner would soon become hot.

"Water bed?" Chloe asked him. Warren answered with something Max couldn't quite make out, and Chloe responded, "yeah, I guess not. But I've never seen one in real life."

Come on, think. There has to be...something going on here. This is way too weird. Why would they lead us here? Why... hang on...

Max stared at the red glow coming from the stove's burner, her brow furrowed as she thought. One of the many memories she'd been accumulating over the past week wriggled loose and made itself known. She visualized her and Nathan sitting in the sterile room talking about Sean. She turned the stove off and turned back to the rest of the kitchen, absentmindedly spinning the flashlight through the room. They did talk about Pan Estates. What had he said about it?

...excavating? He said Sean complained about how much excavating the land cost. Why would he need to...

Her head snapped up and her eyes were drawn to the refrigerator just as it was caught in the flashlight's ray. It tugged her attention like a tractor beam. She wouldn't be able to look away even if she wanted to. Underneath it, she could make out two small, square shapes. Slowly, she crept back over to it and looked down. She instantly recognized the squares as the pads people put under furniture in order to make moving them easier. Checking the back, she found two more. Four pads, each under one of the refrigerator's corners.

She suddenly felt sick.

No...

She yanked the bandana down around her neck and stuck the flashlight between her teeth, taking hold of the refrigerator. With a little bit of wiggling, and surprisingly little struggle, she pulled it away from the wall. There was a slight tug of resistance, then a cord came loose and the fridge lost power. She peered around it and was met with the most repulsive sense of deja vu. It ran through her bones like static.

Why? Why did it have to be...this?

"Guys," she called, but it came out as a whisper. She cleared her throat and tried again. "Guys! Get over here!" Footsteps rang out from above and beside her as Chloe and Warren hurried toward her. Before either could ask her what was wrong, she nodded at the spot on the floor. The flashlight was held limply in her hand, but it still illuminated everything.

"You're fucking kidding me," Chloe said quietly, though it was armored with thorns. The lock was easy to see. It made no attempt to blend in. But it took a careful examination to see the thin lines that separated the square from the rest of the floor.

"What...am looking at?" Warren asked. Since he had such little experience in these matters, he'd been taking cues from Max and Chloe all day. It had served him well thus far, especially when it came to remaining calm with the animals. On the other hand, when they were nervous, he knew there must be good reason. "Is that, uh, is that...like the one...?"

"Yeah," Max said, nudging the padlock with her foot. She wasn't entirely certain that was true, of course, but she'd learned to trust the anxiety that whirled in her gut. Chloe turned her back to Warren and pointed her thumb at her backpack.

"We goin' down?" he asked, but he was already unzipping the bag. He took the crowbar out and hefted it in his hands.

"Yeah," Max repeated without the slightest change in emotion. Warren sighed, hoping she might've said no, and lowered himself to his knees.

"Can you pick this one?" he asked Chloe. She shrugged, then shook her head. "Thought so," he said, and wedged the crowbar into a space around the padlock.

"Kinda scary," Chloe said, taking Max by the hand. She could hear the lopsided smile in her voice.

Didn't go so great last time, no.

"We'll be okay," Max said softly. She nodded at Warren, gasping as he strained himself with the crowbar. "We have extra muscle, at least."

"Yep," he grunted, "I'm...I sure am existing in this exact moment." With a loud 'argh!' he fell backward, and the padlock was flung from the handle of the trapdoor.

"Our son's so strong," Chloe whispered to Max, her eyes crinkling with a smile. Max giggled in response, but it sputtered into a worried creak as she grasped Chloe's hand tighter.

"We have to be prepared for...anything," she said. She looked at Warren directly. "I'm serious. I mean anything." He nodded grimly, then threw open the hatch. It slammed against the wall and unleashed a cool gust of air into the kitchen.

They readied themselves and descended the steps, which were quite a bit longer than those from the farmhouse's bunker, and soon found themselves in a narrow hallway. At the end was a large metal door, not unlike the one that gated The Dark Room. Sean clearly had some specific design preferences for the Prescott bunkers.

"Uh...so," Warren pointed his flashlight at the keypad next to the door, "that's not crowbar-able."

"I know," Max sighed. Still holding onto Chloe, she went over to it and squinted. "Last time, I could actually tell which numbers were used and then...rewind when I got the order wrong." She scowled. Not only could she not rewind without presumably tearing the universe in half, but none of the buttons were faded.

Of course.

"Alright, cool," Chloe leaned forward and studied the number pad, "show of hands if you know what Sean's favorite four digit number is? Anyone know his pin?"

"I wonder how many tries we get," Warren mused as he slipped his backpack from his shoulder. He bit on the handle of his flashlight and began rummaging through it. "Ere's ooshlee a imited amoun o a-emps."

"Tell me you have some kind of roided out safe cracker in there," Chloe said. He snorted, then removed a couple sheets of paper.

"Hardly," he responded, letting the flashlight fall from his mouth into his lap, "I have copies of some of Juliet's articles. There's tons of dates in them. It's a long shot, but might be worth a try..."

"Well, we've got nothing but time," Max snarked, letting all of her weight flop against the wall. The smooth, white concrete was so cool she could feel it through her clothes. Chloe took two pages from Warren, then handed one of them to Max.

"Wouldn't it be sick if we had a distortion right now that magically opened the door?" she asked with a chuckle. She raised her eyebrows and the three of them exchanged glances, then they all turned their attention to the door. After a moment of waiting, Chloe sighed. "Okay, fine. Couldn't do us a solid just this once, universe?"

Not like the universe has been doing us any favors lately.

"None of these really seem important enough to be the password for Sean's super secret lair, do they?" Warren asked, looking over the papers. He grumbled. "I feel bad that I couldn't learn anything useful."

"You've been amazing," Max encouraged. "It's not your fault. We just need to..." Something bright blinked in front of her nose, then disappeared. "What the hell was that?" She waved the flashlight around but was unable to find anything. Then, there was a second blink. A little spark of light.

"What's up?" Chloe asked, looking up from the paper. "You okay?"

That was weird... I could just be losing it.

"There was something..." Another flash, this time by her side. "There, what is that?" She focused the flashlight on the keypad and gasped. Two fireflies hovered around each other in a helix, blissfully unaware of just how lost they were.

Not normal fireflies.

"How did they even get down here?" Warren asked, glancing over his shoulder at the steps leading out of the bunker.

"Cut your lights," Max said, clicking her flashlight off. "Just do it," she added before either Chloe or Warren could question her. The cramped entryway into the bunker was engulfed in darkness and Chloe took Max's hand in her own. It did make her feel safer. They'd both learned that the dark was worth fearing, after all.

One firefly lit up, then dimmed, with the second lighting up in its stead. She couldn't tell before with the flashlights, but the light they gave off was shockingly bright. In perfect harmony, they landed on the number pad and situated themselves on two separate numbers. The first brightened again as it rested on the 1. When it faded, the second lit up the 0. With a considerable space in between, the first illuminated the 1 two more times.

1011...? Is that the code? What would that...

"Oh," Max said. It was more of a sound than a word, really. Something dry and bitter that fell from her tongue. The coolness of the hallway vanished from her body, suddenly replaced by a surge of fire. With the flip of a switch, her blood became gasoline embracing a lit match. She gripped the flashlight tightly, causing the wounds in her hand to sing angrily. Turning it back on, she pointed it at the keypad. The fireflies were already gone. Sneering, she reached forward.

"Wait, Max," Chloe tugged on her, "we don't know if-" She was cut off as a beep, decidedly optimistic in tone, bounded through the room. A green light appeared at the top of the keypad.

You're...such a piece of shit, Sean.

"Um," Warren plopped onto his rear and looked up at Max, "did those fireflies just give us the password?"

"What was it?" Chloe asked.

"1011," Max replied. She said it as if it were obvious, which earned an inquisitive look from both Chloe and Warren. Max sighed. "It's a date," she explained. "October 11th. The...day of the storm."

"What?" Chloe's eyes went wide, then condensed into angry slits. "He really does fucking know. He..." she shook her head, "I can't believe this!"

"Yeah, you can," Max corrected coldly. Chloe's shoulders slouched and she turned her gaze to the floor. "This is a good thing. For us, anyway."

I think.

"Guys," Warren interrupted. He was on his feet now and had both hands on the wheel of the door. He stared at them, waiting for the okay to open it. Max had to remind herself to take his antsiness into consideration. "I don't want it to lock back up."

"Open it," she said.

Doing as he was told, he spun the wheel, then took a sturdy grip of the handle and pulled. The mechanisms within the door sputtered and clanked as it slowly came open, making it seem like the task required more strength than it really did. A sharp, white light erupted from behind the door, singeing their eyes and revealing a setup nearly identical to the one in The Dark Room. There were shelves upon shelves of nonperishable foods and cases of bottled water stacked floor to ceiling. There was a sink carved into a metal counter, and a water heater next to it. A dizzy spell came over Max, and she grabbed hold of Chloe for support.

No, no, no... It's just like it... I never wanted to see this again.

"I've got you," Chloe hushed, wrapping her arm around Max's waist. "I'm here. You're okay. You're okay." Noticing the extreme nature of her reaction, Warren frowned.

"Is this what it was like?" he asked, the words rigid in his jaw.

"Yeah," Chloe answered, tugging the bandana around her neck. She gave Max a kiss on the temple. "You're alright, babe. You're okay."

"It really is like...an actual bomb shelter," Warren said, moving further into the room. "This is nuts. I've only seen shit like this on TV."

"Yeah," Chloe repeated, her lips bundling to the side. She held Max's well-being as her first priority, but it certainly wasn't an enjoyable stroll down memory lane for her either.

"Look," Max said, rocking her body to direct Chloe's view. Just like in Jefferson's dark room, there were curtains separating the 'main' area from the supply room. Unlike The Dark Room, however, they weren't chintzy, translucent plastic. These curtains were a deep red, made of velvet and adorned with gold trim. They were better suited for a stage, awaiting their chance to part and unveil what would no doubt be a tragedy of grand proportions.

A contemplative sound clicked within Chloe's throat and, still supporting Max, she approached them. Warren came to their side, now having also pulled the bandana off of his face. She grazed her fingers down along the fabric, then took a bundle of it in her fist. With a vicious movement, she tore the curtains open.

All similarities to Jefferson's dark room came to an abrupt demise. This bunker was much bigger, at least double the size, and it resembled a lavish living area. Instead of the blank, white walls that lined the other bunker, this one sported a beautiful, wooden paneling. There was not one, but two sectional, leather sofas and a grand recliner framed around a glass coffee table. They were all positioned to be facing an enormous television that hung on the wall. A stainless steel refrigerator nestled itself in one of the corners, and beside it was a counter top that supported all of the appliances Max found missing from the upstairs kitchen. On the opposite end of the room was a bar, the dark wood glistening under its coat of lacquer. Behind that were many shelves stocked with a wide variety of bottled liquor. But most surprising of all were the two doorways leading to more rooms.

Holy shit...

"Is this for real?" Warren asked, creeping his way into the room. "This is the nicest place I have ever seen, and it's a freaking storm cellar."

Though the luxuriousness of it was in and of itself nauseating to Max, she did find herself more comfortable now that the comparison to The Dark Room was entirely severed. She scanned around her, not quite sure where to begin.

"Well, it's definitely Sean's," Chloe said, kicking at the corner of the ornate rug in the center of the room. "Like, specifically his." She turned to Max. "Right?"

"I'm going to go with a yes," she responded, making her way to one of the other doorways. She poked her head in and discovered it to be another bathroom, though it was even bigger than the one upstairs. "Uh, how much of this would even still...work in the case of a disaster?"

"Guess it depends on the generator and stuff," Warren answered as he passed by her. A moment later, she heard him release an awestruck 'woah!' which was followed by Chloe's own rendition of the exclamation. Joining them, Max found them gaping at a disgustingly comfortable master bedroom. "You know," Warren said, "I never really stopped to think about how rich the Prescotts really were. This is like...big, big money."

"From what I can tell," Chloe entered the bedroom and skimmed her hand along the smooth top of the dresser, "whatever money people think they have, they actually have much more. Maybe not in banks, but...somewhere." She jerked open one of the drawers and pulled out a bundle of shirts, then searched through the rest one by one, leaving a pile of clothes on the ground behind her.

He must actually stay here sometimes. Like, not just as a precaution.

"Alright, so...now what?" Warren asked. "We know that he knows about your storm, and the magic stuff, and we're standing in his secret, underground bunker..." He shrugged. "What do we do?"

"Keep looking around," Max suggested, returning his shrug. "I am a little surprised... I kind of assumed it'd be more obvious. I wasn't expecting to search through a high end apartment." Chloe squawked in laughter from across the room as she dug through the nightstand.

"He has a fucking Bible," she said, holding up the leather bound book. "How much more hypocritical can you get?"

"Make sure to check for a bookmark in the Noah's Ark chapter," Max chuckled. She narrowed her eyes at the crystalline chandelier dangling above Sean's bed.

Gross.

"God, that TV is so sexy," Warren crooned as he looked over his shoulder, "I want it so bad..."

"Sorry," Max patted him on the shoulder, "I don't think we can fit that in our bags."

"I mean, we can try," he offered with a small smirk.

"Maybe," she responded, "if you behave yourself." She noticed Chloe staring intently at something in the corner of the bedroom, but couldn't see anything from where she was standing. "What are you doing?"

"I don't know, it's just..." Chloe prodded the wall with her finger, then furrowed her brow. "Hang on, what?" Max and Warren started to move toward her, but before they could get a view of the object of her attention, she stumbled backward. There was a loud click, and another door came open. It was made of the same paneling as the rest of the wall, clearly meant to be quite hidden.

Bingo.

With a flutter of excitement in her heart, Max rushed to the door and pulled it all the way open. The flutter was instantly stomped into the ground, replaced by a chill as she stared at the scene before her.

It was...a mess. Strange odds and ends littered the floor, along with disheveled stacks of paper. The wall was pocked with several holes created by a lost temper. A row of filing cabinets lined one side of the room, while a desk and computer were stationed on the other.

There were other peculiar details to notice, but it was something specific that clamped down on Max's attention. A very tall, thick wooden sculpture laid on its side, pressed up against the bottom drawers of several filing cabinets. Multiple sets of vicious eyes were visible, and they were all staring at her. Watching her. A familiar tickle twitched near her sinuses, and something warm ran down her lip.

"Is that...?" Warren struggled to finish his thought.

"Yeah," Max responded, dragging her sleeve across her face. She sniffled, then tilted her head to the side. "I knew he wasn't just taking it to throw it away."

"You okay?" Chloe asked, regarding her with worry. She began to reach for Max's face, but the girl shook her head.

"I'm good," she said, touching the tip of her foot to The Tobanga.

Been a while since I've had an 'awake' nosebleed. ...no time like the present, I guess. Ha.

"What is all this?" Warren asked, picking up several sheets of paper from the floor.

"Answers," Chloe replied darkly. She was already at the computer, jerking the mouse left and right to wake it up. To her delight, it went straight to the desktop without need for a password. "Let's see what we got."

It took a great deal of effort for Max to tear herself away from The Tobanga's gaze, but she finally managed to join Chloe at the computer. She couldn't help but think how eerily reminiscent it was of their first foray into a bunker. She leaned over her shoulder and took a steady breath in, mentally preparing herself. The desktop was completely empty with the sole exception of an icon for Minesweeper in the top left corner, earning a 'tch' from Max. Chloe, utilizing intuition, dove straight into the documents folder. She sat back and looked at Max.

"Well..." she said, gesturing at the screen, "that's sketchy."

The contents of the folder amounted to at least twenty word documents, all titled a sequence of numbers that presumably correlated to a date. Max nodded for her to continue, and Chloe opened the most recent one.

"What is it?" Warren asked, coming beside Max.

"It looks like a...journal entry?" Chloe perked an eyebrow. She cleared her throat and began to read aloud.

"May 1st, 2014

They've become rather persistent in their...visits. It seems they've taken to disregarding any locked doors or walls in their way and now manifest directly in the room with me. In fact, there are two of them watching me as I type this. Disgusting creatures."

"He sounds insane," Warren said, squinting as he reread the entry.

"He's talking about the animals," Max responded. "Guess he really can see them. Whatever their beef is, it's alive and well."

What did you do, Sean?

"And apparently they're following him, I guess?" Chloe shook her head, then clicked on another document from a few weeks before.

"April 19th, 2014

The Carraway woman has been taken care of. I do not believe she was snooping around with any sort of agenda in mind, but her presence could have become an issue if I allowed it to continue. Truthfully, I highly doubt anyone will notice.

I have no need to elaborate on the place of her remains, but take comfort in knowing she will not be found."

"Holy shit," Max rasped, clawing into Chloe's shoulder, "did Sean fucking kill someone?"

No way. Is he really capable of that?

"It..." Chloe swallowed, then craned her neck back to see them, "it kind of sounds like it, doesn't it?"

"Do we...go to the police?" Warren asked. Though he tried to hide it, it was obvious he was shaking.

"We can't," Max explained, "I'd love to, really, but just getting him arrested doesn't help us." Warren frowned, then nodded in understanding. She held her hands out confusedly. "Why would Sean write this shit down? For someone so," she glanced over her shoulder at the mess cluttering the room, "paranoid, that's...that's really stupid."

"They're addressed to someone," Chloe replied, running her finger under a particular string of words. "See? He's promising someone that the body won't be found."

Wait, what? Who is he writing these for?

"Look," Chloe said, reaching beside the monitor. Max hadn't noticed it before, but there was a printer with a few sheets of paper in the tray. She picked one up, then double-checked the screen. "This one is dated before the oldest document on here. He must be printing them out and eventually deleting them?" She quickly read over the paper.

"April 2nd, 2014

Pestered once again by investigators. It's becoming tiresome. Whether they like it or not, I am still a free man that can come and go as he pleases.

Nathan, your failure has cost me everything. We Prescotts are resilient, however. I still have hope for you."

"So...are these to Nathan, then?" Warren asked. He raised an eyebrow, then smacked his hand to his head. "Oh, duh. Wait a second..." Returning to the scattered papers on the floor, he scooped one up. "Yeah, these are entries, too. There's...tons of them." He puffed his cheeks out, then exhaled forcefully as he turned to the filing cabinets. "Don't tell me..." He gripped one of the handles and tugged, a short gasp of surprise leaving him when it came open.

"And?" Chloe asked, already knowing the answer. He retrieved a manila folder and cracked it open, then nodded to her. Chloe stood up with a growl of disgust, knocking the chair over as she went to the filing cabinets. Max followed her, and they each opened a drawer. "Holy shit," Chloe hung her head, "I know we need answers, but how the fuck are we supposed to read all of these tonight?"

Good question...

"I...I don't know," Max said, taking a step back to get a full view of the room. Reaching behind her, she removed her camera from her backpack and took a photo. "I'm going to get a couple photos of this place, just to have them. In case, you know?" Putting away the one she'd just taken, she snapped another from a different angle.

I've always regretted not taking photos of The Dark Room. Not this time.

"Uh, wait, my..." Warren tugged on his lanyard, bringing his car keys out of his pocket. He clasped something on the keychain and held it up. "I have a USB on here, but...that only helps us with the stuff still on the PC."

"Better than nothing," Max responded. With a nod, he returned to the computer and plugged in the USB. Max looked down again and kicked her foot, scattering papers and other unidentifiable debris. "You guys get the feeling that maybe Nathan wasn't the only Prescott with severe mental issues? This place wreaks of crazy."

"Like some unhinged conspiracy theorist," Chloe said, hunched down as she searched through the mess. "The papers, I get. We know that. But some of this is just garbage." She tossed aside a small figurine, then picked up a rectangular object. "Seriously...how would he keep track of all this stuff?"

"I'm not sure," Max said, redirecting her gaze back to The Tobanga. "Superstitious stuff, maybe? I guess I'd be paranoid, too, if I felt like I was being hunted by nature." She heard a gasp from behind her and found Chloe staring in disbelief at the rectangle. Max could now tell that it was a very worn, beat up wallet. "What is it?"

"No way," Chloe shook her head, a look of horror on her face, "there's no fucking way." Max hurried beside her and looked down at the wallet, letting go of a pained whimper.

Oh no...

There were holes in the material of it, as if it'd been exposed to rain, heat, and snow for years. It was mostly empty, aside from a small Ziploc bag full of a questionable substance and a tattered ID. At first, she didn't recognize the woman in the picture. But if she squinted, and imagined that the woman was about thirty pounds lighter and covered in dirt, she could tell it was the homeless woman who always sat outside of the Two Whales. The one Max had actually warned about the storm in another timeline. Her eyes strayed beside the picture and a sour taste filled her mouth. The woman's named was Jane Carraway.

Please tell me that's not the same Carraway he mentioned. Please...

"Why?" Chloe asked, her brows angling sharply, "I mean, what's the point? She was so nice. She wasn't bothering anyone. Why?" She wiped at a stray tear on her cheek and bared her teeth. "God dammit, didn't she have it hard enough already?"

"She...must have been looking for a spot to stay," Max said quietly. "That's what he meant by her snooping around. She was just trying to find someplace nice to sleep."

That poor woman...

"What...uh, is it?" Warren asked. Chloe held the wallet out for him to see and his eyes went wide. He probably had no personal history with the woman, but he obviously recognized her. "What...the fuck..."

"This motherfucker needs to go down," Chloe hissed, tucking the wallet into her backpack. She pointed to the computer, then turned back to the filing cabinet and continued rummaging. "What else is on there, Warren?"

"Um, okay, I'll just...pick one, I guess," he replied, still shaken by the revelation. He opened another document and scanned it. "What the hell? Listen to this one..."

"April 16th, 2014

I've been thinking about the deer I saw the night I ran into Chloe Price and Kate Marsh. Ever since then, I've started to notice some of the creatures taking on a similarly spectral appearance. Something is progressing, but I don't know what.

I have grown tired of trying to understand the song. I don't know what else it wants from me."

"Oh god," Chloe glared back at the computer, "it makes me sick knowing he wrote about us. He really fucking hates us, huh?"

"I know, babe," Max said, rubbing her shoulder for comfort. Now that they knew what he was capable of, she couldn't help but think about Kate. Though Chloe's safety was called into question as well, there was at least some sense of...competence when it came to protecting her. But with Kate... she hated the thought. Pushing it into the background, she pursed her lips. "Wait, what was the end of that about? A song? What...was he expecting to happen?" Flustered, she yanked open another filing cabinet draw and furrowed her brow. "Huh?"

This time, she pulled a notebook from the drawer and looked it over curiously. It was the first thing they'd found that wasn't just loose sheets of paper. She cracked it open and took note of the discolored pages. The entries were older, and they were all handwritten.

"Look," Max said, drawing their attention, "I found something else..." She was about to read, but recoiled in shock. "Oh, woah, hang on. Check this out..."

"July 21st, 1997

Some old colleagues of mine in New York have presented us with a business opportunity that may be worth looking into. I do not expect anything extravagant, but there's little harm in taking a piece of a pie when it's offered. Unless, of course, there's reason to believe it's been poisoned...

On that note, I'm concerned about the way he's been handling Nathan. The boy can hardly string a sentence together, yet Sean has already begun conditioning him. I try to remind him that too much, too fast can do more harm than good, but he refuses to listen.

Sean – let me remind you once more: The dose makes the poison."

"Sean didn't write that?" Chloe asked. Max flipped back to the cover and read over the scrawled writing in the blank space.

"No," she replied, "it's his father, Harry Aaron Prescott." She narrowed her eyes. "He's the one that owned the barn. With...with The Dark Room."

"So, that was...sort of addressed to Sean?" Warren rocked his shoulders in uncertainty. "Or at least, part of it was. Which means...?"

Harry talks to Sean, Sean talks to Nathan, then...

"These are records," Max answered, looking at the row of filing cabinets as Chloe continued searching through them. "I get it. Each generation has all the previous generation's history. If they're worried about something happening to their family, then...they'd want to keep everyone clued in." She flipped through the notebook's pages. "How far back does it go?"

"Martin Lewis?" Warren offered. "He was one of the town founders, so maybe he has something around here, too?"

"Ahead of you," Chloe said, hefting a binder in her hands. Holding it against her chest, she opened it toward Max, revealing severely yellowed pages protected in the binder's sleeves. "We go back far enough and we're going to end up at cave paintings."

Max took it from her and began thumbing through it. She skimmed the entries, not entirely sure what she was looking for. She finally settled on a page and started to read.

"June 11th, 1903

I have loaned some money out to Jeremiah Lyndon so he may pursue some sort of lumber project in a neighboring town. As far as I can tell, he is a good man that should be worth his word. In the event that he does not repay his loan, with interest, then I will be sure to bring him to justice.

There are times where I have to consider the humor of my position. How serendipitous that the cause of father's undoing would prove to be one of my most powerful tools. Threaten folks with debt and they become your property. That song of his may have killed him in the end, but one cannot deny the potency of its lesson."

"There's that fucking song again," Chloe remarked. "Were the Prescotts originally some sort of traveling minstrels?"

He mentioned his father...

"You know what?" Max dropped her backpack onto the floor and unzipped it. "We're taking these. Some of them. There's too many questions." She was half expecting some sort of protest, but when she didn't receive any, she crammed the binder into the bag. "Okay, are there any earlier entries? From Martin's father?"

"I didn't check the last few," Chloe responded, gesturing the cabinets nearest the corner. Taking the initiative, Warren went over to investigate. He went through one drawer, then the next.

"These are just more of Sean's," he said, "it looks like each Prescott has more entries than the last. Maybe because they get more freaked out or..." He stopped at the bottom drawer and cocked his head. "Oh? This has some sort of...device on it?"

"Is it ticking?" Chloe asked, receiving a harsh frown in return. "I'm kidding. Just open it."

"Just kidding," he parroted with a grumble. He opened the drawer, looked confused, then reached into it. "It's...weird. The temperature is different. I think this thing is a dehumidifier?" He withdrew yet another binder, and brought it over to the desk.

The pages contained within were in the worst shape yet, and there had clearly been effort put into preserving them. Wrinkled and splotched with ink, the handwriting was frilly and created by a very fine utensil. Most notably, there were only a few pages, lending credence to Warren's theory. There was a small piece of white paper taped to the inside cover of the binder, written in one of the more recent Prescott's hand.

"Benjamin Arthur Prescott?" Warren arched his eyebrow. "I've never even heard of this guy. Was Martin not the first one here?"

"What does it say?" Chloe asked.

"It's so old," Warren mused, tracing his finger down one of the protected pages, "like, really old. They're really well taken care of, though."

"What does it say?" Chloe repeated, a bit impatiently.

"Sorry, right." Warren leaned over the desk and cleared his throat.

"July 19th, 1863

There may be a change of plans. We intended to travel further south, but the land here has presented temptation to us all. I myself do not make a habit of roughing it like some sort of vagabond, but even I must admit there is a certain spectacle to the area. I would almost believe we are the first people to ever set foot here.

I don't know about staying here, but I have a hard time arguing against all of what James says. The resources here are plentiful and if we truly wish to escape the reaches of the war, this may be the way to do it. We will have to speak on it more."

"So...wait," Max said, reading over the page herself, "this doesn't line up with the founding of Arcadia Bay at all. It's too early, isn't it?"

"I really wish I'd paid more attention to this shit in grade school," Chloe remarked, digging her hip into the desk and crossing her arms. "How the fuck was I supposed to know I should care?"

"No, she's right," Warren replied. He rolled his shoulders, readying himself, then turned the page.

"August 8th, 1863

Thomas came back from the water with yet another bounty of fish. It seems there is no end to them! Between the fish, game, and vegetation, I sometimes wonder if I don't eat better now than I did back home.

We have encountered others, but after a fair bit of intimidation, they have kept to themselves. I personally find the term savages to be in rather poor taste, but there is no doubt they set some of the others on edge. Worst comes to worst, we could always use them to aid in our efforts. Though I have been impressed with the efficiency of our slaves, you can never have too many busy hands."

"Oh, slavery, nice," Chloe scoffed. "The Prescotts really are born businessman, aren't they?"

"Not surprised in the slightest," Max added dryly, though she'd admit she was disturbed by the information. "Take a wild guess at where the whole 'locals' thing is going." She sighed and tapped the binder, beckoning Warren to turn the page. "What else is in here?"

"October 7th, 1863

I have not slept well. Never have I encountered such a streak of bad luck.

Silas succumbed to his wounds late last night. The sight of his mangled body is not one I will soon forget. I have to imagine he disturbed the bear somehow, perhaps straying too close to its home. They have never bothered with us before. At least, I assume it was a bear. It had to be.

Equally disheartening has been the lack of betterment with Joan and David's fevers. They have reached a severe state of delirium and now spend all day muttering nonsense about the forest. To make matters worse, it snowed earlier. The episode was brief, but it is concerning. I am not sure if we can handle winter weather so soon.

I can only pray to God that our fortunes improve."

"Woah..." Max exchanged glances with Chloe, "that is...eerie. Wildlife attacks, fevers, snow...? Sounds a lot like..." she gasped and pointed at the top of the page, "holy shit, I didn't even notice the date. October 7th! That's when I got my powers!"

"Wait, really?" Warren pulled his hands away from the binder as if it were hot. "No way, this is fucking weird."

"Do the next one," Chloe said. She had her arms wrapped around her, shielding herself from a nonexistent chill. Warren gave a nervous nod and turned to the final page. A gasp was shared between them.

What the fuck?

It began with the date, as usual, but the penmanship gradually grew more chaotic until the words were large and darkened with layered lines reminiscent of Nathan's Dark Room scribbles. Several dark spots dotted the page where tears had fallen. The entry was written by a madman.

"October 11th," Max whispered, reading over the date. "Warren, read it." He hesitated, fear plain on his face, and then he began.

"October 11th, 1863

I have dreamed for the fifth night in a row. It was there again, the size of a mountain. It loomed over me, twisting and bending like a storm cloud. I could not run or move or speak. I can still hear that incessant noise. So loud. So loud...

Joan and David are dead. Thomas, too. James. Agatha. Penelope. Roland. They are all dead. Even the slaves. Only a dozen of us remain but even they are pallid and weak with despair. It would be best to leave but Deborah is in no condition to travel with the baby almost here. I do not know what to do.

And that thing. I can still hear it. It will not leave. It's in my head. Like a song. I can hear it.

Dare not tread with blackened soles
On this sacred ground untouched by blight
Dare not bring a heart sick with holes
Onto this sleeping, hallowed site
Caution to any that may sow decay
For those with plans to paradise undo
Heed these words, remain away
For Arcadia turns its eye on you..."

"What the fuck?" Warren squeaked, backing away from the binder. He looked at Max and Chloe with wide eyes. "I don't like this. I feel weird."

Me too...

"Is there more?" Max asked, trying not to show her own nervousness.

"Uh, yeah, yeah..." Warren shivered, and a few moments passed before he reluctantly approached the binder again.

"Preserved in amber, unbroken breath
Earth unmarred by man's hubris
If you be better friends with Death
The wilder soul will reminisce
You cannot escape the glare of crows
Nor flee from tide, from miST, OR VINE
KIN ENSNARED WITHIN A MARSH OF WOES
ARCADIA FLOWS THROUGH YOUR BLOODLINE..."

"Uh, okay, guys," Warren said, once again coming to a stop. He brought his fingers through his hair and shook his head. "I don't feel good. I really don't."

Me either... This feeling...

"I'll do it," Max said, taking a quick look at Chloe. The girl was merely staring down at the page. She barely looked like she was breathing. Max traded spots with Warren and placed her palms on the desk. It was harder to read now as the words overlapped and grew messier. She blinked slowly and continued where he left off.

"LEGACY AND LINEAGE WILL WILT AND DIE
POISONED BY YOUR UNBRIDLED VICE
VENGEANCE BREATHES – AN EYE FOR AN EYE
YOU MUST PAY THE DEAREST PRICE
SHOULD YOU REFUSE TO PAY THIS DEBT
THUNDER WILL BRING WITH IT A FLOOD
UTOPIA'S BROKEN BONES WILL BE RESET
O GREAT ARCADIA WILL COLLECT IN BLOOD"

"What the fuck does this...mean?" Max asked. She turned to Warren, who only shook his head. He was dreadfully pale and seemed to be having trouble closing his jaw. Max glanced at the page, at a loss for what to make of it. She was also feeling a bit lightheaded. When she directed her attention to Chloe, she found the girl bug-eyed.

"Holy shit..." she said quietly. Her eyes were so glassy, they threatened to crack at any moment. Coming beside Max, she looked down at the binder. She attempted to swallow, but her mouth had gone dry, causing it to hang in her throat. She reached out with one shaky hand and touched the page.

"Chloe?" Max leaned forward so she could see her face.

Something's not right.

"No way," Chloe whispered, ignoring Max's concern. She scanned over the page and let out a small, stupefied chuckle. It wasn't joyous by any measure. It was dead. Stillborn. The sound of decay.

"What is it?" Warren asked, placing a hand on her shoulder.

"It's us," she responded simply. She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and sniffled. "It's us. It's fucking us." Weakly, she pointed to a particular spot on the page. "Amber." She dragged her finger lower. "Marsh." She moved it again. "Price..." She suddenly went rigid, all of her muscles locking up at once. "It's fucking us!" she repeated, this time shouting as she brought her fist down on the binder.

Oh god, it is... It really is.

"N-no way, that has to be a..." Warren began.

"A coincidence, Warren?" Chloe whipped around and shoved him, forcing him to stumble back several steps. "A coincidence!? It's me! It's Rachel, it's Kate!"

"Chloe," Max said, carefully reaching for her.

"What the fuck is this!?" Chloe bellowed, evading Max's touch. She tore at her hair, knocking her beanie onto the floor. "What the fuck!?"

"Chloe," Max repeated, this time forcibly taking her into her arms. "Chloe, it's okay. Come on. I'm here." Chloe deflated in her arms and started to cry.

"I don't understand," Chloe whimpered. "What is this? Why? Why me?"

What...is this? What did we just find?

"I don't know," Max responded, touching their foreheads together. "I don't know. But we're going to find out. We're going to... Warren," she turned to him, "grab anything you think might be important and stash it. We're going to take what we can."

"Right," he said, immediately setting to the task.

"Chloe, baby, it's okay," Max cooed, "it's alright. Let's get some stuff to take with us back home, okay?"

"Sure," she replied, standing up straight. "I'm...so sick of being the universe's punching bag. I'm so sick of it." She stormed by Max and grabbed a bundle of the papers she'd read from earlier.

"I know," Max said after her, beginning her own hunt. "This is big, though. We're getting closer." She snagged Warren's USB from the computer and tossed his keys to him. "We have to be."

That thing in his dream...

"I hope so," Chloe crammed a folder into her bag, "I'm so ready to be fucking done with this." She stopped and looked at Warren guiltily. "I'm sorry I pushed you."

"Hey, no problem," he chuckled, "I understand. Kind of. I don't actually understand anything."

They scoured the room, fitting all they could into their bags. It was nearly impossible to tell which documents were more important than others, but it seemed like they'd gain some sort of insight no matter which they picked. Once they were finished, Max took another photo of the room, and they exited back out into the bedroom.

"Okay, we got what we came for," Max said, closing the hidden door behind her. "Now we just gotta get back to Blackwell." She snapped a photo of the bedroom, then one through the doorway of the main area.

"Oh shit," Warren said suddenly. There was alarm in his tone, and Max turned to him. He was back out by the refrigerator in the main area of the bunker, staring up at something.

"What? Are you okay?" she asked. He didn't respond right away, instead pointing to the ceiling. Max followed his gaze, then sucked in a sharp breath. "Fuck!"

She had been feeling quite proud of their carefulness, too. Unlike every other time, they'd been much more thorough and prepared. Yet somehow, none of them noticed the small, black dome tucked up in the corner of the room. A faint, red glow pulsed on top of it.

No, god dammit! There weren't any upstairs because THAT wasn't the place he was concerned about. Fuck!

"Do you...think that's live?" Chloe stared up at it, then glanced at the opposite end of the room. As expected, another camera hung from the ceiling.

"I'm not sure," Warren responded. "I'm not sure where it would lead if it was." He looked at Max. "Would he want that feed playing in his house? Where cops might investigate?"

"That seems risky," she agreed, "but then again, having every damning piece of evidence just lying around on the floor isn't exactly secure either. We've been overestimating how sane he is." She scrunched her lips to the side and gazed directly into the lens of the camera, not bothering to shield her face. It was too late for that. But, as she watched the red light blink, she couldn't deny that a part of her hoped someone was on the other end, returning her glare. Chloe's 'all or nothing' sentiment throughout the night began to reverberate in Max's head.

We either save the world or...don't. Everything else is a moot point. Well. In that case...

"If that's a direct feed that somebody's been watching," Max said, taking a few steps back, "then I assume they would already be here. And, I mean, I guess there could be someone waiting outside, but..." She casually gestured to Chloe, or more specifically, the gun in her waistline. "On the other hand, if it's not live, then...there's not much he can do. He's out of town. By the time he sees it..."

She held up her hand and looked it over, at the bandage that was already grimy, and felt a now very familiar burn. It had been there with the animals, and again with Jefferson. The slight sting of the cuts throbbed through her fate lines. It blackened her thoughts, reminding her of the wrath that sat beneath her skin. That's what it truly was... a reminder.

A reminder that, tucked within the palm of her hand, was an atom bomb's worth of rage just waiting to detonate.

She took another step back and, without a word, gently pulled the baseball bat from Warren's hand. She eased her grip around it and took note of its weight. She thought about the way it blasted through the window earlier, spilling glass everywhere in a cathartic mist. Still silent, she looked between Warren and Chloe. They watched her intently, but neither of them said anything. But, even without a single spoken word, there was a conversation taking place.

Sean...

More smoothly than she even thought herself capable of, Max hopped up onto the counter below the camera. She leaned up into it, making sure it captured the look in her eyes. Her grip around the baseball bat tightened.

I am so sick of cameras being abused by evil people.

The camera burst into several pieces as she swung the bat with all her might. It sent her off-balance, but she merely used the momentum to hop back down to the floor. Gritting her teeth, she swung again, catching the side of a coffee maker and sending it careening through the air. Raising it above her head, she brought it down on the microwave, denting the top and sending a crack through the door's window.

"Here," she said, breathing heavily as she held the bat out for Chloe. Stunned, the girl took it from her and perked an eyebrow. Max turned to Warren. "Hey, do you mind getting that?" she pointed at the other camera, and then nodded at the crowbar sticking out of his backpack.

"I mean," he said, smiling, "why the fuck not, right?" She watched as he made his way across the room, raised himself onto his tiptoes, and swiped at the camera with the crowbar. It dislodged from its spot, then came tumbling to the ground with another swing.

"You are so hot right now," Chloe said, earning a roll of the eyes from Max. "Alright..." She stood in front of the giant television and readied her stance. "I've fucking had it with this shit. Go fuck yourself, Prescott!" With a vicious swing, the bat collided into the television, creating a hole in the center. She reeled back and swung again, and again, and again until the screen was covered in spiderweb patterns.

Max looked on proudly, then made her way to the curtains that divided the bunker. She jumped, caught the curtain rod, and pried it loose as she came back down. With both Chloe and Warren's attention back on her, she smiled wickedly.

"If you've got any pent up rage," she said, "now's the time to get it out."

It was almost orchestral – the sound of metal ringing out, of things breaking and shattering. Porcelain in the bathroom was chiseled and smashed. The counter was cleared, leaving bits and pieces of expensive appliances rocketing through the air. Drawers were torn open and emptied onto the floor. The beautiful, ornate coffee table in the center of the room was unceremoniously destroyed. The sound of glass exploding into dust was accompanied by crazed cackling.

Furniture was overturned. Bed sheets were ripped in half. A space heater in the bedroom lost its ability to function. Next to it, a fan's stand was snapped in two, leaving it in a grotesque 'A' shape. Bottles were swept from the bar shelves, soaking the carpet as they broke open on the floor. A fancy sound system was strewn across the ground in multiple parts...

Though they were sure to leave the back room alone, the rest of the bunker was shown no mercy. Paintings were destroyed. Clothes were ruined. Dents and splinters lined the walls. And when all was said and done...

Well, it was almost like a storm had rolled through.

---

A/N: Well...

I have so many things to say about this chapter, the process of writing it, what it means going forward, etc. that it's hard to know where to start. I have never, ever been so nervous to post a chapter, nor have I ever struggled as much to write one as I did this one. It's different, the longest Ouro will ever see, and it's the beginning of us finally getting some answers. We've officially shifted into top gear.

I'm really not sure what else to say. It's just a lot. I really, REALLY hope you guys like this chapter. I'll have the next one out soon, but I want to give some time for people to digest this one first.

As always, thanks for reading, and you're the best.