"Oh no... No, no, no..." Max choked out a sob and turned toward the storm. Somehow, it was even worse than she'd remembered. Monstrous and angry, it clawed its way through the waves until it reached landfall, devouring everything in its path. It wasn't long before buildings were plucked apart and pulled into the air, no doubt with people inside of them. Looking back at Chloe, she gripped the girl's arm. "Oh god, Chloe, you need to listen to me," she cried, "this is all wrong! We need to... Need to..." She broke the sentence off and stared at her. Something was wrong. "...Chloe?"

"Max..." Chloe said again, "it's time..."

The moment had carved itself into Max's memory. She could never forget the way Chloe said those words or how she could somehow tell the difference between the tears and raindrops that raced down her cheeks. It was exactly the same as back then. Only, Chloe was acting strange. Her body moved in the smallest increments, then repeated that movement over and over, as if caught in an idle animation. It seemed as though she was waiting for something. A response of some kind.

"Max..." Chloe said once more, "it's time..."

Realization crashed down around her in an instant and she hardly had time to ignite her rage before her vision went dark. Someone had covered her eyes.

"Guess who," her own voice taunted playfully. Instead of answering, Max scratched into the hands and tried to pry them away from her face. When that failed, she tried to thrash out of her doppelganger's clutches. It was no use.

"What the fuck are you doing!?" Max snapped. "You pulled me into a nightmare when I was trying to save her!? Are you out of your fucking mind!? I will kill you!" Again, with all her might, she tried to free herself. But she couldn't.

"Oh shush," Nightmare Max chuckled, her breath burning along the back of Max's neck. "Don't pretend like you're not at least a little bit happy. You thought were back there. You thought you'd have to make the decision again. Thank goodness you don't have to do that! I'm sure everyone's breathing a big ol' sigh of relief right now. Crisis averted!" She huffed as Max jerked her body forward. "Jesus Christ, sit still!"

"Let me go back!" Max screamed.

"Sorry, no can do," Nightmare Max responded.

"Fuck you! God dammit, fuck you! Let me go!" Max winced as the other Max's hands pressed harder into her fresh bruises. She was struck with an idea and went still for a moment, earning an inquisitive sound from the girl behind her. Then she thrust her head backwards to meet Nightmare Max's nose. She gasped as she collided against something rock solid, almost like she'd slammed herself right into a brick wall. "Please..." she rasped, too dizzy to put power behind the words, "let me go..."

"I can't," the other Max said with an audible smile in her voice. It sounded like a sincere admission rather than one of her typical sarcastic jabs. "I can't," she repeated, and Max went still again. Her muscles pulled taut as she was stricken with dread.

"...what is this?" she asked.

"Oh, this? Just having some fun with a little misdirection," Nightmare Max snickered. "See, I thought it'd be absolutely hilarious if you thought you had to go back to the worst moment of your life. You know, that moment you never, ever wanted to relive?" She gave a deep, dreamy sigh. "Because, well, that just makes it so much more fun when I get to break you."

"What are you talking about?" Max asked, her voice barely there. She was pelted by the constant freezing rain, though she didn't feel it. She couldn't feel anything.

"Think hard," the other Max replied, "what could possibly be worse than facing that decision again? Hm?"

"No... You're...lying..." Even though her eyes were still covered, Max shut them anyway. If she didn't look, it wasn't real. It couldn't be real. Her inability to feel grew into something larger and she no longer felt that her body was hers to control.

"Plot twist," Nightmare Max whispered, "the heroes lost. The day wasn't saved." She rested her chin on Max's shoulder and giggled. "Oh, I was so hoping you'd be the one to give it that final nudge and you did not disappoint! How perfect that Chloe would be the cause!"

"No, no, that can't be true," Max said, shaking her head. Thunder exploded above her and she began to cry harder. "No, there has to be... There's still time..."

"Actually, that's exactly what there isn't anymore of," the other Max responded, gleefully butchering the girl's hope. "Your time ran out. The bomb went off." Without removing either of her hands, she somehow sweetly tucked a strand of hair behind Max's ear. "As it turns out, T.S. Eliot had it all wrong. You see, this is how the world ends, Max. Not with a whimper..." her voice grew closer, itching and skittering through the inside of Max's head, "but with a bang!"

There was a gunshot and Max's vision was returned to her just in time to see Chloe fall to the floor in the Blackwell bathroom. She suddenly noticed the weight in her hand and looked down to find she was holding a gun. She cried out and dropped it, recoiling as it bounced and landed next to Chloe's body.

The other her was nowhere to be seen.

"W-wait, where did you go?" Max's voice trembled with the question. She hated that other version of herself more than anyone, but the prospect of being alone in this strange pocket without time terrified her. The blood from Chloe's wound spread out across the tiles then, without warning, it began to bubble and sizzle as if boiling. "Chloe..." Max turned away from the corpse and winced at the snaps and pops of blood behind her. Something vibrated in her hand and she realized the butterfly photo had returned, replacing the gun she'd just gotten rid of. Her shoulders heaved with tears as she looked over it. "What is this place?" she asked herself. "What's...happening?"

The photo rumbled again and a faint, blue light began to radiate from the image. The butterfly's antennae twitched as it came to life, and with a beat of its wings, it sprung from the picture. It hovered just in front of her face, seemingly analyzing her. Then it fluttered away from her and phased through the bathroom door. Though she didn't want any part of another nightmarish adventure, she'd learned by now that she didn't have much of a choice. This time, that seemed especially true.

She hadn't even stepped through the doorway before the scenery changed around her. She was in the dormitory hallway, but it was much smaller than usual. She might even be able to plant her palms flat on each wall if only she were just a bit bigger. The hall was also longer, stretching so far before her that she couldn't see its end. It was dark, as it always was late at night, but strings of fairy lights along both walls provided enough light to keep her from tripping on anything. Not that there was anything to trip on, of course. There was a perfectly even concrete path that ran through the center of the carpet. It was like someone had simply carried the sidewalk in from outside and dropped it in the hallway.

"I don't want to do this," she said quietly. Her tears had stopped, but it wasn't because she was suddenly less sad. Really, what kept her from crying was just how much effort her mind had to put toward comprehending her situation. What did it truly mean for things to just be...over? She was still there, at least in some sense. But where 'there' actually was, she had no idea. She gazed down the path and sighed, then began walking.

She wasn't sure how long she'd been walking before she stopped for the first time. On the right wall was one of the doors that would normally lead into a student's room, but instead of a three digit number, it only read '10.' Suddenly, her eyes went wide and she turned to look back the way she'd came. She really wasn't sure how long she'd been walking. In some ways, it had seemed like ages, but there was also the feeling that she'd been there all along. When she tried to work it out in her head, she felt herself go clammy and had to force herself to stop. Time no longer had meaning. It couldn't be understood.

A knock came from the other side of the door, startling her. She reached for the doorknob, then hesitated.

I should know better by now...

Before she could open it, the number on the plate changed to 9, then 8, then 7, 6, 5... When it reached zero, someone shrieked in horror and the door disappeared. As unnerving as it was, she found herself more focused on the fact that the numbers had actually decreased. She began to repeat the countdown out loud, but couldn't even finish pronouncing 'nine' before she had the urge to vomit.

Max swallowed and shook her hands at her sides, trying to collect herself. As she continued on, the doors grew in frequency, all of which vanished after a countdown from ten. She kept her head down and tried to tune out the occasional cries and desperate pounding that came from behind them. Eventually, she seemed to run out of doors and was once again in an almost entirely bare hallway. She glanced up at the lights and was thankful they had remained with her, but she knew they could, and most likely would, go away at any moment. Then she came to another stop.

The walls had regained a bit of furnishing in the form of a dark strip of wood that ran down each side. Little hooks protruded from them, making them look much like the average key rack. Like the rest of the hallway, it seemed to continue on forever, eventually fading into the shadows. Curious, she checked behind her and found they went just as far in the opposite direction, as if they'd been there the entire time. When she looked forward again, a gasp slipped from her throat. There was something hanging from the hooks. It was Chloe's necklace. Over and over and over, it hung from each and every one.

She approached one cautiously, the sight of it allowing some ache to return to her heart. She brought a hand to her chest and searched for the bullet, but there was nothing there. Closing her eyes, she acknowledged the flash of anger she felt at its absence. She opened them again and took a hurried step back as something swished through the air in front of her. A white line circled around the necklace she'd been staring at. It was like someone had drawn it with a pencil. At the top of the circle was the word 'Look.'

"...what?" Max leaned forward and examined the floating text. Then, 'Look' highlighted, and her own voice dripped from the ceiling.

"Fuck, I can't believe he shot her! That sick fuck!"

"What is this?" she asked aloud, though her voice was small and didn't offer much noise. As she turned her head, another circle surrounded a different necklace, and the 'Look' on top also highlighted.

"Oh my god, it didn't stop! Oh my god!"

"Wait, hang on..." Max backed away, holding her hands out in front of her defensively, "I don't..." There was a slight prickling at her skin and she began to feel lightheaded.

All at once, circles looped around every necklace. There were so many instances of the word 'Look' that when they lit up, the hallway brightened and stung her eyes.

"Chloe! No!"

"I wasn't fast enough! Hang on, Chloe!"

"Nathan, what did you do!?"

"I...can't believe I...did that..."

"Chloe!"

"God dammit! No!"

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

"She's...sleeping..."

"Stop it, you're going to fall!"

It was so loud. Too loud. She thought her head might burst. Then other voices joined the chaos.

"Ohhh, whoops." Jefferson.

"That's what you get, you dumb bitch!" Frank.

"Chloe! Chloe, please get up!" Herself?

"I'm sorry! Fuck! I didn't mean to!" Nathan.

"Chloe, look out! Turn around!" Herself.

"Wonderful. Another problem to clean up." Jefferson.

The hallway flashed once more. Too loud became even louder. Too loud, too loud...

"I just... I can't do it anymore, Max." Chloe.

"Stop! Stop it!" Herself.

"Makes no difference to me!" A stranger.

"Drift asleep..." Chloe.

"Pompidou!" Frank.

"That's how it should have gone the first time." Sean.

"Will you just fucking listen to m- Oh no!" Herself.

"It's been a real pleasure, Chloe Price." Jefferson.

"You just had to stick your nose where it didn't belong." Someone.

"Chloe, it's a red light!" Joyce.

"I want you to watch, Max." Jefferson.

"Chloe!" Herself.

Voices on top of voices displaying every emotion on the spectrum. It was maddening.

"PLEASE! DON'T LEAVE ME!" Herself.

It fell silent.

Max had hunched over and covered her ears to save herself from the barrage of sound. She was crying quietly, though whether it was more from sadness or simply too much stimuli, she didn't know. Her jaw was tensed too tightly to allow for any vocalization, and she could feel the strain on her teeth as she continued biting down. From the corner of her eye, she saw something light up, but it wasn't the same as the previous flashes. Finally relaxing her muscles, she turned to find that the hall now had an end.

Flustered, angry, and heartbroken, she hurried along.

Keeping her eyes down the whole way, she made it to the end several minutes later. Or was it years? Seconds? When she finally looked up, she gave a tired sigh. Before her was a sink. The exact from from the Blackwell bathroom. A slab of mirror floated just above it, defaced with a crown, glasses, and mustache all drawn in marker. A white circle appeared around it and, without consciously meaning to, she leaned forward to inspect it.

"I feel like the universe is taunting me everywhere I go today," her voice said, coming from the emptiness around her. "It all started with that bizarro dream in class..." The graffiti squirmed and came alive, moving itself around on the mirror until it took the shape of two antlers perfectly aligned with Max's head. "Am I going crazy?" her voice asked.

Instinctively, she reached above her and her hand met something hard. Trailing her fingers higher, she felt it blossom out into several points. She took a step back and both she and the drawn on antlers became slightly smaller in the reflection.

Something about all of it felt distinctly...different from her other nightmares. It was almost too weird. It reminded her of the first one she'd had back before she and Chloe went through the photo.

Suddenly, a single line zigzagged from the top of the mirror, then branched out like lightning. Shards of glass began sliding off, though there was no noise produced by them hitting the bowl of the sink. When the last piece had fallen, all that remained was an open space. A window. Through it, she saw a perfect replica of her room back in Seattle. The only difference being that various wildflowers and weeds had bloomed through the carpet and the walls were marred by hundreds, maybe thousands, of what looked to be claw marks.

But there was someone in the room, too. It was her. She was marching back and forth.

"I don't understand," the one pacing muttered. She stopped and, with a sad 'hm,' ran her hand over some of the scratches. "What are they planning?"

Max leaned toward the window, bracing herself on the nonexistent frame.

"Fuck... FUCK!" the one in the room snarled as she returned to her pacing. "Haven't you done enough? Haven't we? But no! No, of course not. Had to stick its fucking nose where it didn't belong." She came to another stop and sat down on the bed, letting out a heavy, sad breath. "I thought... I just thought..." Suddenly, her head snapped up and she looked directly at Max. Her eyes widened in shock, then narrowed into slits. "Get out!" she screamed. Max backed away as the other her stormed toward the window. She raised a fist, then brought it forward. There was the sound of glass shattering, and the hole was no longer there.

Max couldn't decide whether the iteration she'd just seen was the same one she'd been facing off against the whole time or if was an entirely new Max she'd yet to 'meet.' It just seemed like a particularly vulnerable moment, one that she could never imagine Nightmare Max taking part in. She looked over her wounded hand and, feeling an impulse she couldn't quite explain, unwound the bandage. The cuts from the flower's thorns were still there, but there was something of a glimmer within them.

What did she mean? Who are 'they?'

The darkness behind her ruptured, expelling a light so bright she could feel it physically hit her. The heat that came from it was overwhelming, causing beads of sweat to form instantaneously. Shielding her eyes, she turned around and found that there wasn't just one light, but two.

"Fuck," she said under her breath.

A piercing screech tore through the quiet as the lights sped toward her. Just as the smell of burnt rubber reached her, she was enveloped in the lights.

And then she was in Chloe's truck. There was no one in the driver's seat, but it drove in a steady line down a single lane road. There was nothing around her except for the odd, disconnected lamppost or tree that simply hung in the air. There was no visible destination ahead of her, and no road at all when she looked back. She reached for the door's handle and found nothing but a smooth surface.

The crackle of static burst from the stereo as the knob twisted on its own, tuning through different 'stations.'

"All those moments will be lost in time, like tears in rain."

"Beautiful, I don't give a shit. The world is ending. Cool."

"IS. LEAVE. POSSIBLE?"

"A spark can start a fire that burns the entire prairie."

"Broken? Oh man, are you cereal?"

"I think I like, fixed it or something? Maybe?"

Max pressed the stereo's power button, cutting the messages off. As if rising to the challenge, they roared back even louder.

"Dogs are not allowed in the dog park."

"Your little wrists... Your pretty wrists..."

"Curiouser and curiouser!"

"No wonder they call it a web..."

"REMEMBER: REALITY IS AN ILLUSION, THE UNIVERSE IS A HOLOGRAM, BUY GOLD! BYEEEEE!"

"Louis Daguerre was a French painter who created Daguerreotypes. A process that gives portraits a sharp, reflective style, like a mirror."

"When a door closes, a window opens... Or something like that..."

There was a sudden breeze across Max's face and, wide-eyed, she poked her head out of the now open window. Even though there was the sensation of wind through her hair, something about it felt artificial. Suddenly, the truck found itself on an incline, and the motor revved as it began to ascend. The slope gradually became steeper until it was close to a ninety degree angle. Gravity kept Max plastered to her seat, unable to do anything but raise her arms.

Finally, it reached the top and quickly swerved, forcing open the door and ejecting Max from the truck. She sailed over the small patch of flat land and landed on her rear, immediately plummeting down the other side of the hill. The surface was no longer asphalt, instead taking form as tiling so slick, it was as if it'd just been mopped. She tried to stop her momentum, but her hands and feet only slipped off. Strangely, she couldn't tell if she was screaming. It seemed like she probably should be.

She descended faster and faster until the hazy, endless surroundings closed in around her, becoming something of a large hallway. Doors and lockers went blurring past and it was getting more difficult to hold air in her lungs. Just as the slope had become too steep for her to stay on it, the end of the hallway appeared beneath her. She fell, tumbling end over and toward a door marked 'PHOTOBOMB!' Just when she was about to crumple against it, it flung open, and she passed through into more darkness.

She covered her face as a flash seared through her retinas. She blinked the spots and stars from her eyes and then jolted at the sight before her. She was sitting at a table now, and across from her was Nathan. It was exactly as when she'd gone to speak with him at the facility. On the table were three large photographs. One of Rachel, one of Kate, and one of Chloe. There was a syringe resting on each and Nathan looked back and forth between them with a furrowed brow.

"No, this one's too much," he mumbled, picking the syringe up off of Rachel's photo. He was handcuffed, forcing him to use both hands as he analyzed the needle. The bindings on his wrists were so tight that the metal was stained with dried blood. He set the syringe down and moved on to Chloe's picture. "This one's too little..." With a sigh of relief, he nodded to himself as he scooped up the needle from Kate's picture. "This one's juuust right!"

For reasons beyond her comprehension, Max tried to speak with him.

"Nathan," she spoke gently, "can you hear me?"

Shadows billowed and stretched over the boy's shoulders.

"You're a fuck up, Nathan. I knew this was a mistake," said Jefferson's voice.

"You're pathetic. You're going to ruin everything I've worked for," said Sean's.

"But I...I found the right one!" Nathan argued, holding the syringe up higher. "It's okay! I...I did it right! I-" His head jerked to the side and he let out a string of coughs. When he looked up again, his eye was swollen and bruised. "Please, just tell me the right answer! I just want to do the right thi-" He snapped the other direction, whimpered, and spit out a glob of blood. "I just...I'm sorry...I just wanted to be..."

Slowly, he looked up and met Max's eye.

"Nathan..." she moved away from the table and held her hands out in a placating gesture, "it's okay. You're okay."

"It's..." he stared at the needle and scowled, "it's wrong... No! It's all wrong!" He lunged across the table, syringe tight in his fist and aimed for Max's neck.

She shrieked and threw herself backwards, causing the chair to tip over. Then she was engulfed in a sickeningly comfortable tangle of blankets. Fighting her way through them, she peeked her head out and made a pained sound. It was Chloe's room.

Max looked at the empty spot in bed beside her and felt a lump build in her throat. It was taking its time, but it was starting to sink in. She knew there was always the chance that they wouldn't be able to stop the end of the world, but she didn't think she'd have to actually deal with the consequences of it. She assumed she'd be dead or gone or whatever it was that happened to everyone else. Instead, she could only see the missing spaces where they used to be.

Carefully, as if being too rough with it might break it, she picked up Chloe's pillow and hugged it softly against her chest. The scent of Chloe's shampoo reached her nose and she closed her eyes tight, hoping that when she opened them again, she might not be alone.

But she was.

"Please," she whispered to herself, "I can't do this."

The sound of a door slamming rang out beneath her and she scrambled out of bed. Quietly, she made her way to the door and pressed an ear to it. She could hear clumsy, heavy footsteps moving around downstairs. They went silent after a moment, and she tried to listen for a voice. Then there was the creaking of wood as whoever was in the house put pressure on the first step. The thumping continued, making its way up the stairs. She knew there was no real reason for her to be afraid, yet she still found her heart flailing about wildly. The thud of footsteps continued until they were just outside Chloe's door, and then they stopped.

She yelped and retreated as the person began banging on the door. The knocking grew furious, and she half-expected to see a fist break through at any moment. The banging ceased, but was immediately followed by the jingle of the doorknob trying to turn.

"Open up, Max."

It was a voice she'd never heard before. It didn't quite sound human.

"We found you," the voice said, "let us in."

"W-we? What do you mean we?" Max asked. There'd only been one set of footsteps.

"All," the voice replied.

"I don't understand..." Max backed away and searched the room for possible escape routes, but both windows seemed to only be painted onto the walls. "What do you want from me?"

"Open the door," it said, and the knob started shaking again. "Look at us. Look at what you've done." A sharp snap came from the door, and the handle fell to the ground. Something horrible began creeping through the hole that was left behind. "You killed us. Everyone. We are everyone."

"I'm sorry!" Max shouted, pinning herself against the furthest wall from the door. "I tried to stop it!"

"Look at us!" it wailed, blowing the door off its hinges. Max screamed and covered her eyes as she turned away.

After a beat of silence, she opened them again only to find she was in the Two Whales. Much like the first time she'd had a nightmare, she was surrounded by copies of all the people she knew. Though there were even more this time, so they took the form of literal cardboard cutouts just so they could all fit within the diner. She took a step toward the cutout of Alyssa and frowned, feeling the pulse of despair once again return to her veins.

Her parents were there, standing just beside Joyce and David. Sean Prescott was behind Nathan, his arms crossed as he glared down at his son. Maddie's cutout was bent at the waist so she appeared to be sitting on the counter. Some of the skater boys she'd become more familiar with were positioned around the table Justin and Trevor had been crammed into. Even Jefferson was there, nestled between Victoria and Kate with a disgusting smile. Some of the new additions were people she'd only met once, leaving her unable to remember their names. Of course, everyone from the first nightmare was accounted for as well.

All of the people she loved and the few that she loathed.

They weren't speaking to her this time, and though that should have provided some small amount of solace, she found the absence of their voices to be suffocating. Outside, she could see the storm as it dug through the town. Soundlessly, it beat on the windows, causing subtle tremors each time something collided against them. A feathery touch of warmth ran down her cheek and she hung her head. Was this her punishment? Everything was gone except for her. Alone, she'd spend the rest of forever wandering through a broken universe. Maybe 'forever' didn't even exist anymore. Only loneliness.

Sort of.

"What?" she asked, her tone darker than the storm clouds outside. Slowly, she turned to the other Max. She was at the same booth as before, her chin resting on her fist with a devilish gleam in her eyes.

"Coffee?" Nightmare Max sat back and nodded at the seat across from her. Max threw her head back and huffed before making her way over to the table.

"Can I even drink coffee here?" she asked as she took a seat. The other Max only shrugged. "What about..." she scooped a knife up off the table and looked over it with something close to lust, "what if I jam this into my eye or slit my wrists?"

"Hey, give it a whirl," Nightmare Max waved her hand at her in an insistent manner, "I don't know what'll happen. Kind of exciting, hm?"

"Or I could shove it into your heart," Max said contemplatively, watching the one across from her with curiosity. "Do you have one of those?"

"Maybe!" The other Max leaned forward and touched the point of the blade with her finger. She pulled it back to reveal it had indeed broken through her skin, and she tucked the bloody tip of her finger into her mouth with false puppy eyes. "Well," she said as she looked around the room, "what do you think, Max? Your magnum opus." She let out a dry 'heh.' "Your most impressive creation is really just mass destruction. Isn't that funny?"

"Do you know how to reverse this?" Max hadn't let go of the knife yet. "How do I fix it?"

"Fix it!?" Nightmare Max squawked in laughter. "You're really something else, you know that?" She took a sip from her coffee mug and shook her head with a smile. "Somewhere along the line, you got it into your head that you could solve all the world's problems. It's...well, moronic, if I'm going to be frank." She glanced to the side smirked. "Frank as in the adjective, not the drug dealer."

"It's not about thinking I can," Max explained, ignoring the taunt, "I just have to. There is no other option."

"Options..." the other Max mused, then she snickered. "So, tell me. What were you expecting to happen? What did you think Sean was going to say or do that would really tie this all up with a nice bow?"

"We didn't have any other leads," Max replied through her teeth.

"And it turns out, you never had any," Nightmare Max smiled pityingly. "That's what's so great about all of this, you know? All of the pointless effort and sleuthing you've done only to come up empty handed..." She laughed as she stood up. "God, it's so quiet in here. Kinda driving me cuckoo. Do you have any change?" She held her hand out expectantly.

"Go to hell," Max bit down on each word. Nightmare Max rolled her eyes and turned away.

"You say that as if we're not currently residents," she said. As she made her way over to the jukebox, she knocked over the cutouts of Samuel, Logan, Warren, and Stella, offering sarcastic apologies to each as she did so. She began playing with the buttons on the jukebox, humming to herself as she searched. Max's grip around the knife tightened as they clattered to the floor.

"Don't touch them," she warned.

"Oh?" Nightmare Max looked over her shoulder and arched an eyebrow. "Or what? What will you do? Try to pop my brain like you did to Sean?" Max glanced away and, without thinking, dropped the knife back onto the table. "I could make a snide comment about how you've killed two people now, but that'd just be a lie, wouldn't it? It's more like seven billion and some change, hm?" She thought for a moment and shrugged. "That's without factoring animals or plants. Or aliens, for that matter! And then multiply that by infinite realities..."

Max didn't have it in her to retort. She simply covered her face and began weeping.

"As much as I love the sound of your despair," the other Max said as she turned back to the jukebox, "I actually have a much better song in mind. Trust me, you'll dig it." She hit one final button and stood back, tilting her ear toward the speaker in the ceiling.

Music filled the air around them, somehow dampening the imaginary bangs of thunder from outside. It was jumbled and crooked, the strumming of a guitar stumbling over itself drunkenly. There was singing, too, but it was disjointed and sounded nothing like English. Max ignored it at first, too caught up in her own dismay.

But then, something about it hooked her attention. It was strangely familiar. Then she realized it was being played in reverse. She recognized the voice, too. How could she not? It was her own. She finally lowered her hands and looked up at the speaker. The song rearranged itself in her head, piecing itself back together in the proper order. Her eyes shrank to murderous slits.

"No," she said, and the force behind the word seemed to surprise the other Max. "No," she repeated as she got to her feet and walked toward her. "How...how dare you?" Nightmare Max's expression shifted from surprise to a thin glimmer of fear, and then confusion pointed at her own reaction. But it was easy for Max to see why it might make her afraid. Crystal clear in the reflection of the other Max's widened eyes, she saw herself. A face crafted in the deepest sorrow and stoked in a hatred so caustic it threatened to burn through her jaw. It was the most horrifying thing she'd ever seen, and it was her own reflection. "How dare you," she spewed the words like flames, "that's hers. It's for her and only her."

"And now..." Nightmare Max eased herself back into a smirk, "she's gone." She glanced at the jukebox. "Oh, but she loved it, didn't she? Be Kind, Rewind... What a title!"

"Who are you?" Max asked, taking another step toward her. "Who are you, really?"

"I don't know how many times I have to tell you," the other Max responded, pinching the bridge of her nose in frustration. "I'm you. I am you, Maxine Caulfield. We're the same."

"We aren't," Max shook her head. "I love Chloe. I would never say the things you do about her. I would never mock what she and I have. I love her, and you..." Max came to a stop and the adrenaline coursing through her bled out. She looked the other Max up and down, only just now aware of a question she'd never thought to ask. "Where is your Chloe?"

"I don't have one," she said, the last word ending with a punch that acted as a warning against pressing further. A warning Max would never in her life heed.

"Are you jealous, then?" Max asked. "Is that why you're such a bitch? Every other Max has a Chloe they're in love with and you're lonely?" She didn't balk at Nightmare Max's growing fury.

"You've lost the goddamn plot if you think I envy you for a single second," she jabbed back. "That girl has done nothing but ruin everything. She's a fucking disaster. She's just poison in the well of the world." Max looked her over once more, working through the possibilities.

"Did you give her up?" Max spoke with the cadence of a gun. "Did you sacrifice her?"

"Oh, if I recall correctly, you're the one who did that," Nightmare Max said. "Or...am I mistaken? I could've sworn you jumped back with the intent to let her die." She held her arms out. "I mean, don't get me wrong, I don't disagree with the decision, but let's not project your own insecurities on to me." She give a flippant wave of her hand. "You have no clue what you're talking about. I know you think you do. You think you're clever." She tilted her head and thought. "Although..." she smiled, "if you'll indulge me, I do have a question for you."

"Go for it," Max said flatly, knowing once again there was no real choice to be had.

"Right," Nightmare Max rubbed her hands together excitedly, "let's rewind...pardon the phrase...back to that fateful week in October. You're just coming back to town after five long years. You don't really know anyone. You have no real attachment to anyone...except for Chloe and her mother." She ran her hands through her hair, then pointed at the jukebox, forcing the song to start over. "And what's interesting is, you still decided to listen to her. You went right on through that photo to sacrifice her for all the people you kinda knew. So, I guess my question is..." She smiled again, this time with a demonic flourish. "What if I told you I haven't been entirely honest? What if you could make that choice again, go back and fix everything, just like before?"

Dread placed its hand on Max's shoulder in a mockery of comfort.

"You know, you've been going on and on about how you'd never let her go again," Nightmare Max continued, "blabbing over and over about that crushing, terrible guilt for ever having made that initial choice. But now...now that you actually have become close with so many people, now that you've established all of these wonderful, lifelong bonds with so many, will you put your money where your mouth is? Kill them all to save Chloe? To stop this?" She chuckled. "What would you say to that?"

It cut right through her. It was true that she'd told Chloe time and time again that she'd never let her go, and she truly meant it. But she'd also never thought the scenario through all the way. She never thought she'd have to. And it was...horrible. The grip on her shoulder tightened and her heart pumped agony through her arteries.

The truth of the matter, whether she wanted to admit it or not, was that the other Max brought up a valid point. Not that it warranted consideration, or swayed her in any way, but that it was simply a cold, unfeeling fact. She'd fallen in love with Chloe, her best friend for as long as she could remember, and she chose to give that away in favor of people she barely knew. But now, she did know them, and the thought of losing any one of them made her sick. She'd been in utter despair at just the idea of them not being her friend anymore, let alone them dying.

The bond established between her, Chloe, Kate, and Victoria was unflinching and sacred. They were tied together through tragedy and each came out of it feeling more complete.

There was Warren's unwavering loyalty and how he was always there with a smile. Not only had he believed Max about everything, but he'd put himself in danger more than once to help her and Chloe.

Then there was Joyce and how she treated Max as a walking miracle for fixing her family and how she loved her like a daughter.

David's growth into one of the most understanding and loving people she knew. She'd watched him become a father in his own right.

Frank turned his entire life around, shaking off his old demons in favor of an honest living. He'd been pulled back from the brink thanks to Max and Chloe and made it a point to express his gratitude every chance he could in his own Frank-ish way.

The unlikely friendship she'd found with Courtney and Taylor. It still surprised her to some extent. She would have never thought they would become some of her closest friends. Then there was Dana, Trevor, Justin, and Juliet. They, with Chloe's aid, opened up a whole new world for Max to explore. One where she could be outgoing, where she didn't have to hide herself behind a veil of shyness. A skill which she used to cultivate friendships with people like Brooke and Alyssa, as she finally had the courage to join in their various clubs and activities. She'd became something of a big sister to Abigail. An apprentice to Maddie.

She looked around the room once more, taking in the view of all those who touched her life.

But Chloe... It was out of the question. Nothing could change her mind about that. Their love was nothing short of divine. There was simply nothing else like it. After all they'd been through, after all the kisses and tears they'd shared, all of the nights spent entangled in each others arms, there was no chance in hell she'd give her up. A life without Chloe was one without pulse.

"Well?" the other Max eyed her with playful curiosity. "What'll it be? Bae or Bay? What's your pick?"

It was anger that reached the surface first. It was an impossible choice, and she was done with impossible choices.

"I refuse to choose," she finally said, defiance strong in her voice. "I shouldn't have to. It's not fair. There's no reason for me to only have one or the other. I'd keep trying until I had both."

"You'd keep trying," Nightmare Max snapped her fingers and laughed condescendingly. "That's what I thought you'd say. So fucking greedy." She took a breath and gave a disinterested shrug. "Well, it doesn't matter. I was just fucking with you. You get neither."

Max's nostril flared as she briefly considered strangling her doppelganger. She was so tired of being relentlessly toyed with. She could sense the open crater in her mind, a place she could so easily, and accidentally, slip into just to save her sanity. Without a word, she returned to the booth and flopped down into the seat, once again burying her face in her hands.

"Do you get it now? You're alone," the other Max jeered. "Just you, yourself, and me. There's noth-" A cheery jingle of a bell came from behind Max, followed by the sound of footsteps. Nightmare Max turned toward the entrance of the diner and narrowed her eyes. She leaned down to Max. "I'll be right back," she whispered, caressing the girl's cheek, "just give me a moment."

Darkness rolled over the room, removing everything but Max herself. It disappeared as suddenly as it had come, and with its end came a warm, golden light. Before her was the bay, the waves glistening under the sun. The diner's seat had lost its cushion, and she absentmindedly dragged her finger through one of the slats in the bench's wood. Beside her, the lighthouse stood tall, filling her with echoes of life and love. She turned her gaze to the town, watching as little specks bustled back and forth as they lived out their daily routine.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" came a voice from behind her. It took a moment for her to recognize it, and by the time she did, the person was already joining her on the bench. "From up here, it just looks...perfect."

"Beautiful," Max agreed somberly, not wanting to look at them. She couldn't begin to know why these nightmares, or whatever they were, had to be so cruel to her. "What's the twist this time?" she asked, still staring at the town. "Are you going to tell me how horrible I am for what I did to you? Go for it. What's a little more guilt?"

"I could never think you're horrible," the man said. "You've done the best you could. I'm proud of you."

"My best wasn't good enough," she replied, shaking her head as she leaned forward. "Why would you be proud of me? All I've done is hurt you. And her."

"Max," the man's laugh was warm and she felt a comforting hand on her shoulder. It was the polar opposite of the grip she'd felt there just moments before. "You've made her so happy. That's all I've ever wanted. I'm so grateful for that." It was quiet for a beat, and then he laughed again. "You know, I remember when she told me she might be falling for you. At first I thought she just didn't know what she was feeling, but when I looked into her eyes... I could tell it was real."

"Do...you think I should have changed it?" Max asked. "It seemed so awful. She asked me to do it and... I just couldn't look at her like that." She scoffed. "I don't know why I'm asking. I already know how I feel about it. I don't need a...whatever you are to confirm it."

"You've had it hard," he said. "I'm not sure you give yourself enough credit for that. I don't like comparing pain because everyone feels it and it's real to them, but you've gone through much more than the average person. You've faced things no one else ever has. You've made decisions no one should ever have to make." His hand patted her shoulder twice before it was drawn back into his lap. "But, for what it's worth, yes. I think you did the right thing. I'd do anything for her, even if it meant turning down another shot at life."

Finally, Max turned to him, somewhat surprised by his response. His smile was gentle, and his eyes gleamed with the wisdom she'd always remembered them having. She sniffled and thumbed a tear from under her eye.

"Thank you, William," she whispered, allowing herself to cherish a rare batch of happy tears. She wasn't sure what that said about her subconscious, but it settled in her as the sole light in the otherwise endless dark.

"No problem, kiddo," he replied, turning his attention back out to the water. "It really is beautiful, though..." He gave a lighthearted sigh and slung one leg over the other. "I think I'm going to take in the view a bit longer. You should keep going. She's waiting for you."

"She's...waiting?" Max looked behind her and noticed a single, concrete path leading away from the bench and into further darkness. Compelled by his words, she stood up and began to move along, but then she stopped. "Hey," she said, "I know this is fake and everything but...can I have a hug?"

"I can always spare a hug for Max Caulfield," William said, sitting forward and opening his arms. She bent down into the embrace, holding it for a moment to savor the safety it exuded. She straightened back up and he nodded to her. "You're a good person, Max. Don't forget that."

For the first time since the nightmare had begun, she smiled. She knew it wouldn't last long, that it would crumble beneath the harshness of reality within a few seconds, but it was still wonderful.

Leaving William behind, she followed the path away from the lighthouse. It didn't take long for the sunlight to fade entirely, leaving her once again in a void. As she continued on, she noticed flowers and vines lining the concrete. They grew wilder the further she got, until it seemed as though she were moving through a lush garden. Soon, hundreds of fireflies littered the air. Trees had joined in with the flowers, reaching so high above that she questioned whether or not they ever actually ended.

And then finally, she came to a stop. Just ahead, at the end of the path, was the Tobanga.

She was suddenly hit with a familiar smell. It wasn't what she'd describe as good. Actually, it was rather gross. Still, it made her heart light up with quickening beats. She'd grown to love it. She'd gotten used to the taste of it in her mouth.

Smoke.

"Chloe?" Max picked up her pace, rushing to the Tobanga. As she neared it, the scent grew stronger. "Chloe! Is that you!?"

Swelling with hope, she rounded the totem, ready to take Chloe into her arms.

But Chloe wasn't there.

It was someone else. A girl. She sat against the Tobanga with one knee drawn up to use as a rest for her wrist. Between her fingers was the cigarette, and the smoke trailed upward in its twisting, spellbinding way. The girl wasn't alone, however. She was surrounded by various animals. Most notably, Max recognized the doe lying beside her as the one she'd seen so many times. On her hand, right next to where she held the cigarette, was the blue butterfly.

Blonde hair hid most of her face, but even with what little Max could see, she could tell the girl was beautiful. She brought the cigarette to her lips, disturbing the butterfly into flight. She exhaled slowly and finally turned to Max. As she did so, a blue feather became visible within the gold of her hair. She met Max with big hazel eyes that latched onto her own.

And then Max noticed the cord hanging from the girl's neck. Attached to it, resting against her chest, was a single bullet.

"Max Caulfield," she said, a wide smile coming to her lips, "I have heard so much about you."

N!M/N:

THROUGH THE DARKNESS OF FUTURE'S PAST
THE MAGICIAN LONGS TO SEE
ONE CHANTS OUT BETWEEN TWO WORLDS
FIRE WALK WITH ...her