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!]

80. Ouroboros

"Fuck!"

…

"FUCK!"

If the world could end twice, it would probably feel a lot like this. It was like a bomb had gone off inside of her, incinerating everything from head to toe and stealing away all that defined Max Caulfield as a person. Her entire life was dishonest, and she had no idea. She could feel herself teetering on the edge, acutely aware that one wrong move would drop her into a pit that she'd most likely never escape. It was all too much. Too much had gone wrong, and this was the killing blow. She wished it wasn't true, but she knew it was. There was no sense in denying anything anymore.

It wasn't like the revelation actually made anything worse. Things were already as bad as they could be. But it hurt. No matter how much she thought she knew, there was always a much bigger, more important detail that was kept out of her reach. All of her and Chloe's sleuthing, all of the energy they put into their heroic efforts, was meaningless. They were simply meandering across the board of a game they didn't know the rules to. They were never close to fixing anything.

On her knees, Max tore at her hair as she screamed her curses. Something throbbed in her stomach and she stifled the next wail that was forcing itself through her. Weakly, she leaned to the left, and once again peered over the edge of the path and down into the chasm. The silhouette of Arcadia continued to twist around itself, somehow ballooning and deflating all at once. Each clench or spasm in her gut suddenly felt much more filthy than before. What had been an awe-inducing, almost religious experience had turned into the disgusting wriggle of a parasite in her bloodstream.

"God... Oh my god," she whimpered. Screwing her eyes shut tight, she beat her hand against the not-quite-concrete beneath her. "Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck..."

"Max," Rachel said softly, kneeling beside her and placing a hand on her shoulder. It was clear she wanted to say something, but there simply wasn't anything else to say. 'It's okay' was a lie, and one that Max had become quite familiar with. Nothing about anything was okay anymore. She couldn't remember the last time it had been.

"You knew?" Max asked, side-eying the girl with a glint of anger. Rachel nodded meekly. "Why...why didn't you tell me? Why wasn't that the first fucking thing you told me!?"

"I didn't know how," Rachel replied, guilt evident in her voice. "I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry. I wanted to, I swear. I was trying to think of a way, but it...it beat me to it."

"So," Max closed her eyes again and expelled a revolted, scraping sound as more tears raced down her cheeks, "so I'm trapped in a loop? This entire fucking time, I've been stuck in a goddamn time loop!?" Rachel slipped her fingers under Max's jaw and angled her head so she could look into her eyes.

"You're not stuck in a loop, Max," she said. Max furrowed her brow and began to speak, but Rachel held up her hand. "You were. You're not anymore." She took a deep breath and shook her head. "No, the cycle's been broken."

"What are you t-" Max cut herself off as the jumbled noise in her head smoothed out into something of a sugary tune. She turned her gaze high above the last three memories, where an enormous, blank polaroid materialized out of thin air. The loud 'snap!' of a camera rang out, followed by a warbled, fluttering sound. The image slowly came into clarity, and it immediately filled Max with dread. "What is this?"

"Just...watch," Rachel said, making sure to keep her tone soothing. She'd gone from kneeling to sitting beside Max, and took the initiative to wrap an arm around her shoulders. At first, Max flinched away from her touch, but then allowed its comfort. "It'll help you understand."

Max hesitated, then nodded and reluctantly devoted her attention to the makeshift projector.

She could tell just by the way the sunlight cut across the scene that it was autumn. There was no mistaking the golden filter the season brought along with it. She saw herself in the image, glassy-eyed and wearing the same black dress she'd worn to Rachel's service. She stood between Warren and Joyce, the latter of whom was sobbing as David held her hand. Kate was on the other side of David, clasping the crucifix that hung from her neck. It was an odd assortment of people. Or at least, it would be if Max didn't know them better.

They were all focused on the beautiful casket that lay before them.

"What happened?" Max asked, but the question was only partially audible.

"This is the beginning," Rachel responded. She said nothing more, but did adjust her embrace of Max to be a bit more secure. She didn't really need to elaborate, anyway. Max knew exactly what she was watching.

"I...I'm not sure I can look at this," Max mumbled, looking down at her lap as she blinked away some tears.

"Come on," Rachel said, giving her an encouraging squeeze, "I know it's hard, but I'm here with you."

Max sighed and turned her sight to the polaroid once more. The scene didn't seem to have progressed much, though now Joyce was crying so hard that she was convulsing, making it so David had to offer even more support just to keep her upright.

But then, something else entered the frame, causing Max's breath to hitch in her lungs. A blue butterfly, the blue butterfly, dove downward, then settled itself on top of Chloe's coffin. No one seemed to notice, save for Max giving a quick, curious glance.

It remained there for an indiscernible amount of time before it took to the air again. Strangely, the focus of the image pulled away from the funeral and was now following the butterfly. As it flew, it gracefully weaved between the branches of trees, deliberately keeping itself aimed in a single direction. It was going somewhere. Somewhere specific.

Suddenly, the lighting in the photo darkened, leaving only the iridescent blue of the butterfly's wings able to be seen. Its behavior didn't seem to alter in any way, as if it hadn't even noticed. Or maybe it didn't care. Before Max could ponder the mystery behind the shift in lighting, it was bright again. But this time, she was able to spot the sun hurdling over the horizon far off in the background. As night fell once more, a sickly feeling plastered itself to Max's skin. She knew that days were passing, but was unable to neatly organize the information in her mind.

After a few more transitions, it finally settled on daytime. She began to wonder about the endurance and speed of a typical butterfly, but then she gasped and sat up straight. She recognized the place now visible in the image.

"Is that...?" she asked, but Rachel remained silent.

The butterfly glided over the Blackwell parking lot, then zipped around the gymnasium. It stuck close to the wall as it followed the perimeter of the school, and then finally fluttered through an open window. The window led into the bathroom...where Max stood looking down at a torn photograph.

And then the polaroid went blank again.

"But...that's when..." Max analyzed her hand, ignoring the vibration that spun through her chest. Slowly, she rose to her feet and stared down into the void. She watched the figure for some time, comparing the glow that came from her palm to the one that shivered along the creature's scales. She turned back to Rachel. "Arcadia gave me the power?"

"Yeeeees," Rachel dragged the word out with an ashamed lilt as she tried to gauge Max's reaction.

"That doesn't make sense." Max stretched her fingers, causing the cuts in her hand to burn. The fact that they still had yet to heal was only marginally unusual when compared to everything else. "Why? Why would it give me the power to save her if it wanted her to die? Why would it do that if I was just going to fuck up everything?"

She suddenly remembered something from a conversation she'd had with the other Max.

"Why? Why can I do what I do?" Max had asked.

"Because you're a problem. Just a wrench to jam in the gears of a well-oiled machine," Nightmare Max answered.

"Did it want me to ruin its plan?" Max slowly shook her head in disbelief. "Why? You said it doesn't care. It doesn't think like we do."

"I know," Rachel took Max's hand, covering it with her own so the girl would stop dwelling on it, "but...I also said that when I died, I became part of Arcadia. Everything that lives and dies here belongs to it. We share...fuck, I don't know what to call it. It's like, we're on the same wavelength. I can't actually talk to animals, but I can understand them." She shrugged, very aware of how much she was stumbling on her own explanation. "We share...feelings?"

"But that still doesn't answer my question," Max replied calmly, though there was an obvious hint of irritation in her voice.

"I have a theory?" Rachel offered, bundling her shoulders close to her ears. "Listen, I think it's like...if Arcadia can share its whole, uh, fucking vibe or whatever you want to call it, then it probably works the other way, too. It would pick up on our own thoughts and feelings."

"I don't know what that means, Rachel," Max said.

"Well, it's just..." her eyes angled up in thought and the faintest of smiles came to her lips, "I wasn't the first one here. At least, not as far as I can tell. Someone else was here for...I don't know how long."

"William?" Max had the urge to once again search behind her for signs of the lighthouse or bench where she'd spoken with him. "He was here before you?"

"Yeah," Rachel nodded, "and William loves Chloe more than anything. He would do anything for her. I'm sure you know that. You can just feel it when you talk to him." She, somewhat hesitantly, peeked over the edge to see what writhed far below. "This is nerdy, but... It almost reminds me of some kind of algorithm. You put new info in and...it starts behaving differently."

"So, Arcadia backpedaled on its own scheme because William wanted to protect Chloe?" Max asked. She pressed her thumb into her temple, growing increasingly agitated. "And it chose me to be the one to do that?"

"It chose you," Rachel said, carefully pulling Max's hand away from her face. Her voice had taken on a slightly brighter tone. "Of course it chose you, Max."

"I... I..." All of Max's muscles went tense as another quake rolled through her. "What the fuck!? Why didn't it just call off the fucking storm!? Why jump through all these stupid fucking hoops getting someone else to fix your mistake instead of just...just fucking fixing it yourself!?"

"There's something about it..." Rachel darted her eyes down to the creature below them. "I know you've felt it. That like, push and pull feeling." Following Rachel's gaze, Max looked down. She placed a hand on her chest, focusing on the sensation. "A push and pull, but there's no end to it. Just...constant give and take. Everything feels like that." She looked around her, suddenly looking a bit fearful. "It's like two totally opposite things that are always happening at the same time. It's really...weird."

And as weird as it may have been, Max fully understood. She'd always felt that strange coexistence between two things that shouldn't be possible. How Arcadia itself always seemed light-years away while also breathing down her neck. Or how it was massive and constantly growing bigger, all the while shrinking to nearly nothing. It was loud and quiet. Everywhere and nowhere. Breathing and choking.

"So, what, it's indecisive?" Max asked, making sure it sounded as annoyed as she felt.

"No," Rachel shook her head, "I think it's just everything at the same time. It already had a plan, and the plan was happening or...uh, happened, or something. It needed you to step in the way and trash it."

"Like letting dogs loose in the house to deal with the cats you brought in to deal with the mice infestation," Max said dryly, picturing the myriad of children's books that portrayed that exact plot. "It couldn't stop itself, so it just added more pieces to the equation. That's so fucking stupid."

"It's just my best guess." Rachel stepped back and brushed her hair out of her face. "I can't sit here and tell you that's what's going on. I don't know. It's the best I got."

It was hard to imagine how something like that could even operate as a living(?) being. Even beyond her encounters with Arcadia, she was able to recognize the pattern within her own life. There was the way she and Chloe always seemed to be getting closer to the truth while also getting further away. Then, there were the animals. They had been a persistent enigma, with Max never knowing whether they were good or bad. Frankly, she still wasn't entirely sure what to make of them.

But what came to mind the most vividly was her and Chloe in the woods the morning after she'd first felt Arcadia's presence. She was falling apart, and Chloe wasn't much better off. The world pressed down upon them, crushing them with pleas to be saved. They were tired, dirty, and lost. But it was also wonderful. In spite of everything, they still giggled, kissed, and tried to talk through the things that troubled them. Even at the time, she was aware of the odd juxtaposition. And, thinking back even further, she realized they'd always been that way. No matter how dark things got, they could always spare some light for one another.

"Okay, okay..." Max turned back, looking out over all of the frozen memories they'd passed on the pathway. "You said I used to be stuck in a loop, but I'm not anymore." Rachel gave a slight nod. "Well, what happened? Why was I stuck in the first place?" Before Rachel could answer, she sucked in a breath through her teeth and clamped one eye shut. "Because...I fucked up. If the whole point was to save Chloe, and I couldn't, then... Right. That...makes sense."

"It's not that black and white," Rachel explained, "it's just that your end goal was a little more complicated. You didn't just want to save Chloe. You wanted to save everyone." She leaned closer and looked in Max's eyes. "So, knowing that, you can probably guess when the cycle was finally broken."

"When Chloe came back with me..." Max said quietly. Then she squinted at Rachel. "Wait, what do you mean my end goal? I didn't know anything about this. It was all Arcadia's doing."

"I know," Rachel replied, "but there was...uh, you still 'chose.' After every attempt, you were the one who decided to try again. I don't even know if it was a conscious decision or just something that happened automatically. You could have quit at any point, but you never did." She let out a tiny snicker. "You can see why it chose you. I think it knew you'd never give up."

"But I don't remember that at all," Max protested, looking back to where the giant polaroid hung in the air. "Why don't I remember any of this?"

"Max," Rachel said softly, "you already know what happens when someone has too many memories, especially of things they shouldn't." She took the girl's hand again and held it between hers. "You've seen what it does to people. Warren, Victoria..." she glanced to the side and frowned, "Samuel..." The frown constricted into a tight line as she looked back at Max. "Even though you're used to it, you wouldn't be able to handle that many memories. It'd kill you, Max."

"Are there that many?" Max asked, feeling a pang of guilt. "Did I really screw up that many times?"

"I...I don't know how many," Rachel admitted, "but please, trust me. It would be too much for you."

Max remembered Chloe's hypothesis from many months before, back when they still knew so little. It was a ramshackle attempt at explaining the havoc in Max's head, as well as the interaction with the homeless woman, now known as Jane, that she didn't recall.

"So...Chloe was right? My autopilot memories have just been in my head this whole time?" Max took a step toward one of the statues of her and Chloe in bed together and looked over it with adoration. "Like when I saved William, there were five...years in between that I just don't remember, which I guess ended up being ten. They really did happen, I just wasn't...aware of it." She ran her fingers along the crown of her head, feeling the way the word 'years' prickled and itched. "They're in there, I just can't see them?"

"It's..." Rachel sighed, "it's more complex than that. It's not just five years. Hell, I think you'd be able to handle that without breaking a sweat. But it's...a lot more. Like I said, I don't even know how many." She thought for a moment, an uneasy expression taking over her face. "Chloe's smart. She actually did have the right idea, but the memories aren't in your head. Not exactly. It'd be too much. We had to...put them somewhere else."

"What do you mean?" Max asked, raising her eyebrow. "Where did you p-"

"Oh, my ears are absolutely on fire," a giddy voice called from the darkness, "you guys must be talking about me!" Max's eyes went wide.

"No..." she turned to search for the source of the voice. At first, she could see nothing, but then a figure stepped from the shadows further down the path. It began lumbering toward her, moving with an awkward gait that made it seem off balance. It crossed into the light, revealing a smile set beneath two piercing, blue eyes. "No, no... You...?"

"Me!" Nightmare Max said with a flourish of pride. "Me, me, me. The Max Caulfield slogan!" Her upper body was twisted just a fraction to the right, and each step closer was uneven and clumsy. Once she was fully visible, Max was able to see why she was moving so strangely. She was dragging something behind her, and by the way it affected her walk, it must have been relatively heavy. It took another moment before Max could make out what it was, and she gasped.

"Jesus..." she mumbled under her breath.

"I'm a woman of my word," Nightmare Max chuckled, heaving the thing in front of her with a grunt. The doe flopped onto the path, its limbs splaying in different directions. "See, I told you I was going to break its neck!"

"W-why would you do that?" Max asked, instinctively taking a few steps toward the doe. "It didn't do anyth-"

"If you fucking say it didn't do anything wrong," she snarled, "I will stomp on your jaw until stupid shit like that can no longer fall out of your mouth. You cannot be that fucking delusional. Or...no, I guess you'd call it empathetic, right?" She coiled into a tight, fuming bundle and bared her teeth in utter disgust, but quickly relaxed with a long, slow breath. She pointed at Rachel. "Hey look, it's the dead slut. Any interest in joining your little friend here?" She drove her foot into the side of the doe, causing it to lazily roll over.

"Do you think I'm afraid of you?" Rachel asked with a little amusement to her words. Despite the brave face, she did spare a brief, forlorn look at the lifeless doe.

"Probably not," Nightmare Max admitted, stepping over the doe's corpse as she made her way toward the girls, "I'm not even sure you can actually die here, but that doesn't mean I can't give it the ol' coll-" She came to an abrupt stop and cocked her head, listening to something that Max couldn't hear. Curious, she approached the edge of the path and glared into the darkness. "It's you," she said softly, "I never thought I'd actually get a good look at you..." She narrowed her eyes, leaned back, and made a guttural sound that was worryingly...juicy. Then she thrust her head forward and spit into the abyss. She turned back to Max with a broad smile. "Well, that was cathartic."

"Rachel," Max said, not taking her eyes off of the other her, "what...is she?"

"Your memories," Rachel responded, quietly enough to convey a sense of timidity. It was a much different tone than she'd just used with the other Max. Almost as though Max was the one she was actually afraid of.

"No," Nightmare Max corrected, stalking just a bit closer, "I'm your failures. Let's not try and dress it up all fancy, hm?"

"What? What is that supposed to mean?" Max looked back and forth between her and Rachel, not entirely sure which one she was asking. She settled back on her doppelganger. "How can you just be...memories?"

"Just be memories," the other Max chuckled. She came to another stop and puckered her lips, then aimed a smug smirk at Rachel. "There's still so much you haven't told her. What's the hold up, Rach?" She turned back to Max. "You ask all the wrong questions. Have you forgotten where you are? Why you're here?"

"What's she talking about?" Max asked Rachel. It wasn't that she didn't trust her, but that she'd taken note of how uncomfortable the girl had become.

"I... It's..." Rachel glanced at the floor and gripped her elbow, just the same as Max always did when she felt anxious.

"Oh for fuck's sake," Nightmare Max threw her head back in exasperation, "I know you're used to swallowing, but you should really learn when to spit it out." She put her hands on her hips, the simple gesture making her seem oddly human. "Go on," she encouraged with a repulsive laugh, "tell her the truth. All of it. I mean, I already have, but she won't listen to me."

"When you...broke the cycle," Rachel said, her voice still small and tiptoeing, "you created alternate realities. Something happened when Chloe came back with you." She regarded Max sadly. "We didn't know that was going to happen. At least, I didn't. And I still don't know why it did." She clenched her fist in a show of frustration. "Everything...everything was perfectly clear. The past, present, and future.

And then suddenly, it was like someone turned the lights off. I couldn't tell what was happening anymore."

"Beating around the bush," Nightmare Max groaned. She flitted her hand at Max. "There's something you need to understand about how this thing works." She pointed at the twisting shape below them. "While you were busy playing hero, these idiots were stuffing all of your failed attempts into a little cosmic drawer. Here. Outside of time and space. Now, mixing time travel with a place that has no time causes something of a... teensy problem." She pinched her fingers together to illustrate just how tiny it obviously wasn't. "It creates an incredible weight. An anchor that only gets heavier and denser as it constricts in on itself, becoming a literal time bomb. And eventually..." she threw her arms out, "kaboom! It explodes into a million little pieces!" She held up her index finger. "But! Do you know what happens when there's a massive explosion?"

"Uh..." Max was too busy reeling to consult lessons from the various science classes she'd taken.

"It wasn't a trick question. I literally know that you know," Nightmare Max said, rolling her eyes. She held out her arms again, then slowly brought her palms together. "Negative pressure. Something explodes, then pulls all the shrapnel back to the center of the blast. You see what I'm getting at?"

A memory surfaced in Max's mind, suddenly carrying a whole new meaning.

"You are the sun which all other Max and Chloes orbit!" Nightmare Max spouted with devilish enthusiasm.

"Does that include you, then?" Max fired back, so foolishly proud of her retaliation.

"No," Nightmare Max answered with a hungry, violent smile as her eyes bled to black, "I'm the black hole."

"You're the bomb," Max said in a near whisper.

"That they armed," Nightmare Max replied, casting a hateful glance at Rachel. "They thought they were helping you, but the best laid plans of girl and god often go awry. But that's no surprise, really. It goes against Arcadia's nature." She exhaled a small laugh through her nose. "You already see how it tears at both ends of a spectrum, wanting...no, needing both to coexist. So, do you really think you could go and create infinite new realities and not get some push back in the other direction?" She heaved a sigh of satisfaction. "At least there's that. That fucking beast must be in agony. There are no more opposites to be had. There's just...nothing."

"Max," Rachel said, keeping her voice down so only Max could hear. "Please. This isn't what I wanted to happen."

"Oh fucking save it," the other Max boomed, mocking Rachel's attempt at discretion. "Boo hoo, you didn't mean to." In a blur of movement, she was suddenly standing directly in front of Max. Despite being the exact same height, she still seemed to be towering over her. "So, for those keeping score at home, that means Arcadia sentenced Chloe to death, then changed its mind and turned you into a slave on a hamster wheel, which in turn ended up fucking destroying everything." She pointed at herself. "You think I'm the bad guy here? I fucking beg to differ."

As conflicting as it was, that did indeed seem to be the sequence of events. Admittedly, it didn't paint Arcadia and its pawns in the best light, though that wasn't much of a shock. Aside from Rachel and William, ambivalence seemed to be the name of the game. But even they had a sort of Machiavellian air to them. Still, there was a positive tucked away within the details that she couldn't deny.

"It gave me the chance to save Chloe," she responded, shaking her head.

"From it's own fucking plan!" Nightmare Max shouted. She crammed her knuckles into her eyes and ground her teeth together. "I cannot believe this! All you do is talk about that bitch! Can't you see that if she just fucking died the first time around, none of this would have happened!? You don't care about anyone else suffering, you just want to save Chloe fucking Price!"

"Listen..." Max said, trying to keep a cool head, "I understand what you're saying, but...I mean, I don't know what you want from me. Do you really expect me to suddenly regret saving her? I don't. I could never ignore the possibility to keep her safe. It doesn't matter what the circumstances are. I could never say no to that opportunity."

"Wh- Are you serious!?" the other Max seemed to be genuinely astonished by her answer. "The only reason you even had to save Chloe was because of that thing!"

"I don't...care," Max replied, "that has nothing to do with whether or not I'd actually do it. I don't care whose fault it is. It's like telling me not to breathe. I...I have to."

"You don't care... Of course you don't fucking care!" Nightmare Max was trembling with rage. "Do you have any idea what I've been through!? You're so fucking selfish! Jesus Christ, you can't even feel a little bad for me? You can't even give me THAT!?" It might have been a trick of the ethereal light, but Max would almost swear there were tears in her eyes. "You got everything you wanted and used me as the fucking ladder to reach it!"

"What in the fuck are you talking about!?" Max snapped. She looked at Rachel, hoping for some sort of encouragement, but the girl only watched the exchange with pity. "You expect me to feel bad for you? Really? After everything you put me through? You're a fucking psycho!" Now she was the one pressing forward, combating the other Max's anger with her own. "You forced me to watch you use the people I love as puppets. You made me watch them die over and over. You've done nothing but insult me and hurt me every single chance you got! Fuck off with your martyr complex!"

Nightmare Max didn't back down, but she was still visibly stunned. Her eyes trailed over to Rachel and lingered there for a long moment before once again locking with Max's.

"You know, I really thought you were some version of me from another timeline," Max continued. "I kept thinking, there must be a reason for the way she acts. Something must have made her this way. There has to be some explanation. But no, turns out I was right the first time." She scoffed. "You really are just the ugly little voice in the back of my mind. You're. Not. Even. Real."

Something in the atmosphere shifted dramatically, and the constant pulsing caused by Arcadia's movements ceased. Max had grown somewhat accustomed to it, so the sudden absence of such a strong sensation left her feeling as though she'd just thrown it all up. Dizzied, she glanced over her shoulder at Rachel...but the girl wasn't there. Max was no longer on the path, surrounded by memories of her and Chloe. She was somewhere else, engulfed in darkness so thick that it billowed around her like smoke. When enough of it cleared from in front of her, she was finally able to locate the other Max. But once she did, she regretted it.

Her stare was so fierce, Max could feel it prodding her skin. Her irises flashed like strobe lights, dancing between a plethora of colors alien to human eyes. Her chest heaved with rapid breaths, each inhale and exhale causing her nostrils to flare. The fury building inside of her only worsened her shaking, giving the impression that she might implode at any moment. Each time Max was unfortunate enough to glimpse the other Max's anger, she swore it couldn't get more terrifying. Yet she was proven wrong every time. Seeing the way she was quaking, Max prepared herself for the oncoming outburst.

"Not real..." Nightmare Max repeated, her voice alarmingly calm despite being forced through such a severe scowl. It was much more unnerving than the tantrum Max had expected. Then Nightmare Max bared her teeth in a big, fearsome smile. "That sure is a real ballsy thing to say to someone who's lived as many lives as I have." She held a hand over her heart. "The things I've seen and heard? Pretty fucking real. The things I've felt are very real. The things-" She burst into a manic laughter that sounded just as pained as it did gleeful. She stepped backwards and was swallowed by the undulating shadows, leaving only the busted rattle of her laughter behind.

"Oh, what now?" Max asked, not needing to feign any of her agitation. She couldn't find it in her to feel any sort of pity for her monstrous reflection. Sure, the other Max was still able to toy with her head enough to instill fear or sorrow, but sympathy? It wasn't exactly part of her skill set. Besides, how exactly was Max supposed to feel bad for what was essentially a talking filing cabinet? Even if she was able to somehow manifest in Max's reality, it didn't make her human. At least...she was pretty sure it didn't. "Where did you go now?" The lack of an answer made her feel uneasy, which in turn just frustrated her more. "Hello?"

"I want to show you something, and I want you to really pay attention," Nightmare Max finally responded, her voice crawling from the black fog that circled Max. "As you can see now, I wasn't lying when I said that I'm you. Not just you you, but all of the yous you've ever been. And, I think it's time..." the Max that reappeared from the shadows was not the same one who'd just vanished into them, "that you get to know yourself a little better."

Her hair was long, reaching the small of her back despite being tied in a ponytail. The clothes she wore were much different than before, now made up of a tight, pastel colored shirt and mini skirt. Complimenting the look was a much greater emphasis on makeup than Max had ever considered utilizing. Most interestingly, she appeared to be older, perhaps in her early twenties.

"And what's this supposed to be?" Max looked her up and down, then gave a bewildered shrug. "You wanted me to see what I'd look like as the villain of a teen comedy?"

"Aw," Nightmare Max pouted in the sort of condescending way that truly suited her new look, "it's so cute how you think there's ever been anything other than tragedy." She collected her hair and brought it over her shoulder, running her hands through it as she watched Max. "This version of you really knew how to have a good time. I'd even say that was her defining feature. She had lots and lots of fun. Conquered the Vortex Club without breaking a sweat and then set out to rule the rest of the world. Chloe was there, of course. You two were thick as thieves, like always." She sighed. "But it was just so hard to deal with the losses from the storm. Especially because you never did move out of Arcadia Bay. Your parents were still there."

"What?" Max asked, the sadness leaking into her voice. "The storm...got my parents?"

"See, that's an interesting reaction," the other Max mused. "I've wondered if that would seem like a deal breaker to this you. It's fine to execute an entire town so long as your family's safe?"

"I didn't say that," Max responded, turning away to hide her conflicted expression. "What happened to 'that' Max?"

"Oh, well the line between partying for fun and partying to cope is really quite thin," Nightmare Max said. "When you're always searching for the next thing to numb your pain, you get reckless." She snickered. "Okay, stop me if you've heard this one before..." she paused to let the joke sink in, "Chloe's drink got spiked at some bar and she didn't...handle it very well."

"What?" Max squinted as she processed the information. "Are you telling me Chloe died of an overdose? But that has nothing to do with the storm or...anything."

"You'd be surprised just how hard life is to hang on to. It's squirrely as a motherfucker," the other Max replied. "Especially for you two. It's almost like the universe had your number. Don't get me wrong, it's not like the storm itself was hunting you down. That'd be very silly." She giggled. "Just seemed like there were a lot of...accidents. You know, like not keeping an eye on your drinks." She waved a dismissive hand, showing off her pristine, freshly manicured nails. "Hey, no worries, though. You just pulled the ripcord and bailed. Like always. But...not before screaming so much that your vocal cords bled. It still feels a little sore." She pouted again and tenderly rubbed her throat to illustrate her point.

"What do you mean I bailed?" Max crossed her arms. "You say that as if I always knew I could do it, but I didn't. I'm just finding out about it now." She thought about what Rachel had said, but it didn't make sense to her. "How would I know when to start over if I didn't even know I could do that to begin with?"

"Some bullshit internal reset button," Nightmare Max said. "It was like instinct for you. I'd even call it 'the power of love' buuuut I don't want to puke all over these nice clothes. But yes, you'd be whisked away from all the sad so you could have another crack at it. Actually..." Her eyes angled up in thought. "That last trip didn't get erased. You know all those times you blacked out, or maybe things seemed a little slow or...strange? You were 'deciding' whether or not to keep going." She pointed at Max. "The visions were new, though. Might have even been the first sign that things were totally fubar. Sprung a leak or somethin'."

"But then, am I even really the same Max that made those decisions?" Max asked. For some reason, the idea didn't bother her as much as she thought it probably should. "That sounds completely separate from me."

"Are you really surprised they tinkered around inside of you to give you some sort of emergency exit?" The other Max sneered. "They gave you the power to upend the whole goddamn universe, they can sure as fuck install some stupid fucking 'uwu Chloe' feature." She let go of a flustered sigh. "Is that an anachronism or...? Fuck, I can't think straight." Snapping back from her thoughts, she shook her head at Max. "At any rate, I can assure you that you're the same Max that made the call. You and I are all there is. Just trust me – if you can't remember something, I can. You did this to me."

"Oh, what the fuck ever," Max rolled her eyes, "you can drop the 'woe is me' act. You love watching me suffer. Do you even hear yourself when you talk? You were practically drooling when you told me about what happened to 'that' Max."

Nightmare Max stared at her, her expression passive and unchanging for what seemed forever, then she once again backed into the inky mist. Max leaned forward a bit, straining her eyes for any movement.

"Behind you," the other Max said, causing Max to spin around on her heel. She immediately recoiled and stumbled backwards.

"What the fuck..." she mumbled.

She was face to face with yet another version of herself. This time, she looked to be about the same age as Max. Maybe even a bit younger. But that certainly wasn't what drew Max's attention. She was much more focused on the twisted, limp arm that dangled from her doppelganger's torso. Nightmare Max had her head cocked to the side, carefully analyzing Max's reaction.

"Fun fact," the other Max said with a cruel smirk, "thanks to photo jumping shenanigans, you didn't always know you had your powers. And even when you did, you weren't always the quickest to use them. That means you've had your fair share of death as well. Of course, it doesn't last. Neither you or Chloe know how to stay dead. You just reset. As usual."

"I've...died before?" Max felt a strange, glittery spasm in her skull. It didn't hurt, and it was quick, but she knew it was most likely a side-effect of learning that information. She noticed the other Max's head was still lulled to the side, her eyes scanning Max up and down. It was infuriating. "Stop looking at me like that."

"Oh," Nightmare Max laughed, "my bad..." With her good arm, she reached up and grabbed a fistful of her hair, then pulled her head into an upright position. Feigning a look of shock, she let go, and it flopped to the other side. Max hadn't seen it before, but she could now make out a large, ugly bump protruding from the other Max's neck. "It's hilarious to hear you talk about suffering like you know anything about it. I remember dying, Max. I remember being dead. But, that's kind of my point... What do you remember?"

"What do you mean?" Max asked with a frustrated flail of her hands. "You've made it abundantly clear that you already know everything I remember."

"True," Nightmare Max replied, "I know that you remember getting everything you've ever wanted. Getting the perfect outcome and then staying put, all smug and satisfied with yourself." She snickered, and the way it fell from the corner of her twisted mouth cast her in a particularly demented light. "I mean, come the fuck on! David being a rational human being capable of love? Victoria not being the biggest bitch on the west coast? Frank getting clean and finding a purpose?" She snorted. "It's quixotic bullshit that belongs in the kind of story someone would write in crayon. You don't just get to have the perfect version of everyone. That's not how things work!"

"It is not perfect," Max argued, though it wasn't a very confident rebuttal. After all, she herself had used that word more than once to describe things. "And...and even if it was, I shouldn't have to feel guilty about that."

"You sure?" the other Max asked, narrowing her eyes at the girl. "You had so much goddamn compassion for Chloe's sob story in that other reality. You felt so much shame for getting the ideal world when all she had was rubble. And yet..."

She lunged toward Max, and by the time she had a hold of the girl's shoulders, she was already an entirely different version of her. Her piercing stare was funneled through a pair of thick frame glasses that were just slightly lopsided due to the crooked nose that supported them.

"And yet that's where your remorse starts and stops," she spat, increasing the strength of her grip until Max winced from the pain. "You're a monster. That's all you are. You just stitched me together like some kind of fucking patchwork quilt. You are a fucking mons..." She noticed that, even though Max was visibly shaken, she couldn't take her eyes off of Nightmare Max's nose. She poked her tongue through her teeth as she smiled. "Ah, curious about that? Pops had a bit of a drinking problem in another timeline. Turns out there's a bit of truth to that whole 'dark liquor makes you angry' thing."

"He...wouldn't do that," Max said, shaking her head. She tried to pry Nightmare Max's hands off of her, but the girl only clamped down harder. "Let go of me!"

"I have proof that he would, given the right...or wrong, circumstances," the other Max responded. Her expression darkened, then the features of her face contorted until she was someone just slightly different. "Do you have any idea how much death I've seen? How many tears I've cried?" One of her hands found its way to Max's throat, and she applied a small amount of pressure to her thumb. "Do you know how many times my heart has been crushed to dust only for you to rebuild it and break it all over again?" She erupted into another fit of laughter and jostled Max, completely unphased by the girl's attempts to break free. "I just kept thinking, when will you give up!? WHEN!? I've been your fucking hostage for an eternity!" A low, grinding noise ruptured in her mouth and she shoved Max away from her. "Fuck! I thought when everything ended, THIS would be included!"

Max coughed and rubbed at the spot where she'd swear she still felt a thumb driving into her larynx. She watched the other Max seething before her, wound tight with energy that was begging to be released. Stunned into silence, she wasn't quite sure what to make of Nightmare Max's performance. To her dismay, the one thing she swore wouldn't happen was indeed beginning to – an unwanted notion of sympathy building inside of her. She wanted to physically break into her own skull and tear it out.

"Look, I..." Max began to say, but stopped when she realized she had no idea where to take the sentence. She also recognized that this would be the perfect time to have someone back her up, but her companion had yet to reappear. "Wait, where is Rachel?"

"Why, am I not good enough company for you?" Nightmare Max asked. It was hard for Max to put her finger on it, but her voice seemed to have a sort of severe density to it. "Would you rather be spending time with the girl that helped this fucking nightmare reach fruition?" She shot a poisonous look at Max. "You know, I almost believed you'd understand. That maybe, just maybe, you'd learn the truth and detest them the way you're supposed to. But you don't!" She raised her hand and let the black smoke thread through her fingers. "I see the way you look at me. You still think I'm the villain."

"You're the one who's been acting like it," Max responded, straightening her posture to assert she hadn't yet lost the fight. "What else am I supposed to think? You could have explained yourself. You could have done literally anything else. If you had just told me 'hey, I'm the combination of like twenty other Maxs and it's been really hard' then I would have been more understanding. Surprisingly, I actually would understand that!" She pointed an accusatory finger. "But you just...lash out and feel sorry for yourself."

It wasn't really the time or place for it, but Max found herself rather proud of her civility, even if it was just a means to prove she was 'better' than the other her. It was clear Nightmare Max didn't share the same opinion. Her eyes lit up with a wild, red spark. Something Max said had struck a nerve.

"The Dark Room," Nightmare Max said, lacing it with an ill-fitting giggle.

"What...about it?" Max asked. She was not at all eager to delve into that particular memory.

"You felt so...disgusting, didn't you? Like you'd never wash the feeling off..." The other Max brought the back of her hand to her mouth to silence even more giggling. "Your mind stayed there a lot longer than your body did, right? You thought about it, dreamt about it, for weeks. Months! It still eats at you. You look like you're about to throw up," she paused and a large smile crept across her face, "and you only had to do it once."

It hit her with an unexpected ferocity. She'd told Chloe she'd do it again and again if she had to, but she didn't think she already had. She swallowed, but it was a struggle as her throat had tightened.

"Oh... How many times did you...?" Max tried to find the same horror in the other her's eyes that she often saw in her own reflection whenever she thought of The Dark Room. She couldn't.

"How many?" Nightmare Max 'hmm'd' and began pacing around her. "One.." she pointed to herself, "two..." When her foot left the ground, an echo of it lagged behind, eventually taking shape as a second (fake?) Max. Both she and the new Max said 'three' in unison, causing a third Max to split off from the second. They mirrored each others movements flawlessly, even down to sticking their tongues out in a vilely playful manner. On 'four,' another tore itself from the back of the one before it. There were enough now for Max to feel trapped in the center, and she was reminded of vultures circling their prey.

"O-okay, I-" Max tried to say, but was cut off.

"Five, six, seven," they chanted, sounding more and more like a choir with each addition. "Do you still get that chill anytime you see duct tape?" the original Nightmare Max asked, though the words came from all seven of them. "Crazy how something so silly can stir such bad memories..." Max was once again about to speak, but the other Max snapped her fingers. When combined with the others, it sounded like the crack of a falling tree. "Eight, nine, ten, ele-" She came to a sudden stop, allowing all of the clones to phase back into her one after the other. She made a silly face and shrugged. "Ah, who cares, yanno? I mean, who's counting?"

"I didn't..." Max hesitated to make sure she wouldn't be interrupted, "I didn't know."

"Of course," the other Max nodded back in sarcastic understanding, "you didn't know. Consequences? What a ridiculous concept!" She held her hands out. "See, that's what's so great about all of this. You can fool everyone else. Twist their brain until they can't remember your mistakes. But me?" She tapped her temple. "You can't unring a bell."

Once again, she fell back into the smoke that still lazily curled around them. It barely registered to Max, though. She couldn't stop imagining what it'd be like to live through Jefferson's torture multiple times. It was a profoundly sad thought. It was also a frustrating one. The other Max had been letting her make an ass out of herself by withholding information. If she'd known, she would have tried to help her...

Her hands shot to her throat as something cold and hard looped around her neck. Then her feet were off the ground, kicking at the air as she began to suffocate.

"You should be familiar with this one," Nightmare Max whispered into her ear. She jerked her arms upward, tightening whatever it was that choked her. Max was suddenly let go, and she collapsed to her knees. As she gasped for air, she idly wondered why it seemed she only needed to breathe in this place when the other Max was around. Just how much control did she have over the 'rules' here?

Nightmare Max strolled around to the front of Max and glared down at her. She was wearing an orange jumpsuit, her wrists bound together by handcuffs. Max cursed inwardly at the sight, then closed her eyes and slumped to the side.

"I didn't...know it worked that way..." she said, still taking small gulps of air.

"Which just makes it that much more stupid," Nightmare Max responded. "What exactly was your plan if you weren't able to go back? How do you think it would have gone down if William or Joyce had walked in to see Chloe dead in that bed with you sitting right next to her?" She waved her hands around, making sure to emphasize the jingle of the metal connecting her arms. "Care to take a fucking guess?"

"I've heard this lecture before," Max argued, finally getting back on her feet. "I don't need it again."

"Oh, I'm so sorry," the other Max chuckled incredulously, "forgive me for retreading old ground. That must be such a pain in the ass." She scuffed her shoe against the non-existent floor and clicked her tongue against her teeth. "I guess you're right. Why should you hear it from me? Not like I'm the one who went to prison because of your decision." She let out a loud 'ha!' "I've been sentenced so many goddamn times you could mistake me for a fucking novel."

"What do you want me to say?" Max asked, practically begging for the answer. "It's not fair what happened to you, but it's not fair to hold it against me, either. I didn't ask for this to happen!"

"Don't you dare," Nightmare Max warned with a slow shake of her head. "You do not get to compare our experiences. This? What you're seeing right now?" She turned side to side in display, the handcuffs melting from her wrists as she became yet another Max. "This is an infinitesimal portion of my torture. A fucking aperitif." She came closer to Max, her stare burrowing into the girl's pupils. Max obviously hadn't meant to incite any further aggression, but it didn't seem to count for much. "I am the only reason you were ever able to fall asleep with her in your arms. I'm the one who let you smile as you dreamt. You...you should worship me." Her eyes darted to the side, then back to Max. "I want...to show you..." There was a hint of reluctance in her voice. "I want you to see it... I want to...share this with you." She took a step back, then drew a long breath. "Just...one wrong move. So easy to...slip into..."

"Please, I don't know what you're talking about, but I...get it," Max said, holding both of her palms out.

As far as she was concerned, she understood the point, or lesson, about as well as she could. It wasn't like she was able to acknowledge a fact 'more' than she already did. Still, it was like Nightmare Max didn't even hear her. She'd started her tirade, and it didn't seem like there was a way to get her to stop.

"No matter how...hard you try to lock it away," the other Max continued, her tone almost reverent, "it's...right there, waiting to take you." Breaking from her thoughts, she gave Max a curious look. "I've always found it interesting that you refer to our little get-togethers as 'nightmares.' It almost seems...disrespectful. You don't know the first thing about what constitutes a nightmare." She smirked and pointed to herself with her thumb. "That's my thing, you know. Hell, it's my goddamn moniker. I can show you what a real ni-" Her eyes bulged and she clapped a hand to her mouth, smothering the ugly noises meant to impersonate laughter.

Her appearance slipped from her bones and came back together as a new Max. It wasn't a remarkably drastic change, simply placing her in a new outfit that consisted of a black t-shirt with the words 'Bury Tomorrow' written on it in a white, chaotic font, and jeans that were torn in a few places. Her hair was shorter, closer to Victoria's length, and the glint of several piercings dotted their way up the cartilage of her ear. Much in the same way Max had seen what she would look like with a more preppy style, this just seemed like the result of her embracing her angstier, emo tendencies.

But then Nightmare Max shrunk, losing about a foot and a half of her height. Max instantly recognized the frilly, fairy dress as a Halloween costume from her childhood. Still laughing, the young Max spun in place, allowing the sparkly dress to shimmer against the darkness. But even as she joyously danced, wet streaks were visible on her cheeks.

She lurched back to her adult height, becoming someone that had more resemblance to Max's mother than Max herself. The beginnings of crows feet were visible around her eyes, and she was just a bit on the pudgier side. Then youth took her once more, dragging her back through the years until she was in her 20's. The extra weight drained away, but continued to evaporate until she was nearly skin and bone. Dark, sunken eyes were wide and crazed as her mad cackling began to sound more like shrieks of terror.

Again she turned into a child, then was catapulted through numerous versions of her adult self. Her hair cycled through an exhaustive amount of styles and colors, as did her clothing. But it was the odd detail here and there that really set them apart. There was an iteration missing two fingers on her left hand, and another right after that was propped up on crutches. One moment, she had a round belly that seemed at least eight months in the making, then she was gaunt with hesitation marks spanning the exposed skin of her arms and legs. She kept laughing, even when the flesh was missing from half of her face and all that remained was the haunting image of chattering teeth set in an ivory jaw.

"Hey..." Max said, taking a single step closer to her reflection.

As the other Max shuffled through ages, postures, and health, the tattered echo of her cries struck out at the surrounding darkness.

"Hey, come on..." Max tried to again reason with her.

Now, the laughter was gone entirely, replaced only by hopeless, agonized screaming. Still, she continued to change, the pace gradually increasing until she almost seemed to have no shape at all. It was too fast for her own body to keep up with, making it so she had more or less features than she was supposed to. Four eyes slid across her face as one pair exchanged itself for another, and three flailing arms suddenly became five. She doubled over and clawed at her stomach, where something inside was breaking apart.

As her right leg snapped, she planted eight palms on the ground, taking on the appearance of a grotesque, humanoid spider. She gulped, briefly stifling her crowing, and turned to look Max in the eye. To her horror, the girl was actually grinning. Or at least, she was trying to, but the wiggling, rubbery teeth in her gums kept it from ever reaching something human. But she was able to maintain a 'normal' set of eyes just long enough to convey what her smile could not – a sadistic, almost feral, satisfaction at being able to show her 'true' self.

"Hey!" Max called, but she could hardly hear her own voice amidst the chaos. She she watched, there was a nagging sense of familiarity, and she realized what it reminded her of – a much, much worse version of what had happened to Jefferson and William when they learned of their deaths.

Nightmare Max sprung back up straight and dug her fingers into her cheeks. She'd resumed her wailing, and while the vague shape of a grin remained on her face, she sounded more distressed than ever. The faintest twitches and jolts zipped through her body as muscles, bones, and organs raced to match themselves with whichever iteration of Max was currently dominant. The most negligible things, such as the production rate of dopamine or a slightly weaker immune system, had to be accounted for. Each and every cell growing, dying, bending, and splitting at breakneck speeds to fit a particular Max.

"MAX!" Max summoned her terror into a desperate shout.

Nightmare Max froze, her screams disappearing so abruptly that one might have thought she'd been put on mute. In that same blink of time, she reverted from the formless monstrosity back to her original appearance. Slowly, she turned to Max, her head snagging every few centimeters as if the gears in her neck were jammed. Her bloodshot eyes held a trace of disbelief.

"What...did you just call me?" she asked. There was trepidation in her question, as if she was sure she'd misheard.

"I'm...I'm sorry," Max responded, "I'm so, so sorry."

"You..." the other Max furrowed her brow, "you really do mean that, don't you?" She released the stale, aching breath that she'd had stored in her lungs for eons.

Suddenly, they were no longer in the rolling storm of darkness. Instead, they were standing inside Max's room in Seattle. It was the version she'd seen earlier, with torn up walls and overgrown with wildflowers sprouting through the carpet. Eyes still locked on Max, Nightmare Max flopped down onto the bed. She sniffled, then buried her face in her hands.

"I'm...so...tired," she cried softly. "Why am I still here? What do I have to do to end this?"

"Um," Max came a bit closer to her. She was surprised by her earlier outburst and was only now trying to straighten out exactly what it was she was feeling. "Does...anything end here? Is there an end?"

"I don't know," the other Max replied, "I just thought it might. I...hoped it might." She glanced up at Max and gave her an analytical look, like she wasn't quite sure what to make of her. "Hey, you've tried the counting thing, right?"

"The what?" Max asked.

"Like, trying to comprehend time," Nightmare Max said with a somber note in her tone. "It doesn't work. Just trying makes you feel like you're going insane..." A single, sad chuckle spilled from her throat as she turned her attention to one of the walls and gave it a long look up and down. "Imagine how crazy you'd have to be in order to understand it. How broken you'd have to be..."

Max followed her gaze to the wall and studied the claw marks that scarred it. She gasped. How hadn't she noticed before?

"Oh god..." she said, cautiously placing her hand flat on the wall. What she initially thought were the remnants of mighty swipes of paws or talons were actually four single scratches, with a fifth, diagonal slash crossing through the others. "Oh my god..."

The same pattern repeated itself over and over, covering the rest of the walls. Gulping, she looked up and found them strewn across the ceiling as well. Not even the floor was spared, as she could now see that the wildflowers weren't coming through the carpet itself, but sprouting in the small gashes that resembled cracks in the sidewalk.

Suddenly, the other Max was beside her.

"Five years," she said, running her finger down a single scratch. She moved to the one next to it. "Three weeks." Then she tapped the other two in succession. "Eight months. Two years." Her lips quirked into a sad smile, as if remembering something sweet, and she flicked the diagonal line with the back of her finger. "Nine days." She turned to Max and gave her a searching look.

"How...many are there?" Max craned her neck, finding even more carved into the furniture. She blinked hard, shaking away the odd feeling that came with the words years, weeks, months, and days.

"Thirty-one thousand four hundred and six," Nightmare Max droned. There was so little emotion in her voice, it reminded Max of a telemarketer's prerecorded call.

"And...uh, each one varies in length of time?" Max passed her hand over several groups of scratches. The very idea of it turned her stomach.

"Yep," the other Max responded, "a little over eleven thousand years in total." She rested her forehead against the wall and closed her eyes. "Eleven...thousand..."

"You remember all of it?" Max asked.

"Every second," Nightmare Max said. "Microsecond. Jiffy. Planck. Whatever. All of it." Each named unit of time rippled along Max's skin, causing the hair on her arms to stand up.

"And it always ended badly..." Max turned away, cursing under her breath. Regardless of intent or awareness, it seemed to be fact that the other Max had indeed been suffering for an unfathomably long amount of time. It was suddenly very, very difficult to fault her for much of her behavior. "You weren't just showing me random things to mess with me, were you? They happened to you."

"For the most part," the other Max admitted dully. "I took some liberties here and there. Only enough to get the point across."

Max was about to ask another question, but snapped her jaws shut. She didn't know how to ask it in a kind way. That wouldn't have been a problem before, but given the circumstances, a little kindness seemed like it might do both of them some good. Still, she was so curious...

"Yes," Nightmare Max said without meeting Max's eye. "I know what you want to ask, and the answer is yes. That's why I don't 'have' a Chloe." Her lips pulled back into a snarl, and she roughly dragged a hand across her face. "Fuck, I don't care. I don't care anymore. I fucking hate her. I'm over it."

"You're not..." Max, against her better judgment, placed a hand on the other Max's shoulder. With each piece of the puzzle, her heart crumbled some more. "It's okay that you're not. How...how could you be?"

"I said I'm over it," the other Max whipped back, rolling her shoulder free from Max's touch. "All she does is cause pain. That's all she does. I don't give a fuck about her. She should have just stayed dead the first time!" With a small, short-lived spark of fury, she slammed her fist into the wall. "If she just died when she should have, none of this would have happened. I wouldn't have had to live through so much fucking pain. I wouldn't know what it feels like to be a corpse. I wouldn't have to see the same fucking storm destroy everything over and over and over. I wouldn't..." her voice caught in her throat and she hurriedly wiped away a tear, "I wouldn't...know what it feels like to lose her."

"But you kept trying," Max said quietly. Nightmare Max side-eyed her.

"You kept trying," she responded, "I didn't have a say in the matter."

"But we're the same," Max carefully moved the girl away from the wall, "that's what you've always said. If you're me, then we want the same thing." She looked at her closely. "I understand why you hate me now. I would, too. But...I can also see that you didn't want things to end up like this. You weren't actively trying to cause the end of the world. It just...happened to you. Like my powers happened to me."

It suddenly struck Max that, for the majority of their encounters, the other Max hadn't even really done anything to her aside from...scold her. It wasn't until recently, when she was at her most frustrated, that she actually hurt Max physically. And even then, her attacks were mostly brief and superficial, maybe even best described as 'catty.' Not unlike the sort of thing she'd expect to see between two girls at school. In fact, Max was the one who lashed out with the intent to do lasting damage. Of course, there was no underselling the mental impact the other Max's 'nightmares' had inflicted upon her, but it still gave her pause.

"I did want it to be over," Nightmare Max said, shaking her head. "You don't know what it's like. Just because I didn't speed up the process doesn't mean I wasn't looking forward to it. I..." She began to laugh, but chomped down, crushing the humor between her teeth. "There's no escape from this place. I've tried everything. Fucking everything. I'm real enough to feel pain, to feel sorrow, but not real enough to die. I'm a fucking terminally ill immortal." She returned to the bed and sat down again, but this time, Max joined her. "I actually thought Rachel's little scheme might work. After that day in your room, I felt...weaker. I started to believe. I'm so fucking stupid."

"Wait, what do you mean?" Max asked. "What scheme?"

"She didn't tell you?" the other Max narrowed her eyes.

"Uh, she told me she's been trying to help but..." Max somehow managed a smile, "we were interrupted before she had a chance to explain." She thought to ask about Rachel's whereabouts, but Nightmare Max spoke before she could.

"You should hear it from her, then," she said, flitting her hand. Immediately, the door to the bedroom banged open, and Rachel stumbled in. She was out of breath, as if she'd been overexerting herself.

"How were you able to do that?" she asked, furiously storming over to the bed. "You...you took her away! You shouldn't have been able to do that with me and Arcadia right fuckin' there!" She turned to Max, her expression softening. "Are you okay? Did she hurt you?"

"I was mad," Nightmare Max mumbled, answering the question Rachel had already moved on from.

"I'm fine," Max responded, though she wasn't quite sure that was the most appropriate word. "I'm not really sure what I am. I'm just trying to figure things out. Um, speaking of which..."

"What is it?" Rachel knelt down in front of her, taking the girl's hands. "You can ask me anything." She shot a dirty look at the other Max, then made her hold on Max's hand a bit firmer. Despite being a bit apprehensive to learn about Rachel's apparent 'scheme,' Max found comfort in the protective air she was exuding.

"She said," Max pointed her thumb at the other her, "you had some kind of...plan to help me. I was just wondering what it was."

"Oh." Rachel stood up, then squeezed herself next to Max on the bed. It was an odd position for Max to be in – sandwiched between the almost mythical girl that met an untimely death and a gloomy replica of herself. Rachel sighed, then chuckled quietly. "It's strange how, in some ways, I'm still the same silly girl I used to be. Too scared to talk to someone face to face. Sometimes I'd leave a note, sometimes I'd just disappear, all so I could avoid a difficult conversation. I was the queen of ghosting."

"I'm shocked you somehow made this about you," the other Max sneered. "Truly, I'm floored."

"Ignore her," Max said, trying not to sound too annoyed. Nightmare Max had made an incredible amount of progress in what she assumed to be a incredibly short span of time, but Rome wasn't built in a day.

"I'm just explaining why I'm so bad at...explaining," Rachel replied, looking a bit wounded. She took a deep breath. "I told you how we took your memories away and moved them somewhere else so that they wouldn't overwhelm you. We...or, I, didn't know that it would be too much for reality to deal with."

"Because when has playing god ever come back to bite someone in the ass?" Nightmare Max piped up, leaning forward so she could see Rachel. She had a smug smile, which Max supposed was preferable to usual unfiltered anger.

"I know," Rachel responded darkly, "I'm not here to act like I didn't fuck up, okay?" She closed her eyes for a moment to compose herself. "When I saw what was happening, I tried to figure out a way to fix it. I thought I might be able to separate them and lessen the strain on everything, but they just kept snapping back together like a fucking magnet." She cleared her throat and nervously played with the stitching on her jeans. "So, then I thought I might be able to move them somewhere...else. If I could take them away from someone, I could probably give them back, right?"

"Rachel...what did you do?" Max asked. It was the guilt on Rachel's face that made her so uneasy.

"But I thought giving any of them back to you would be too dangerous," Rachel continued, sparing Max one ashamed glance. "You finally did it. You worked so hard to save everyone and you were happy. It was everything we'd been trying to accomplish. I didn't want to risk ruining it. So...I, uh, decided to give some of your memories to...someone else instead."

An image of blood-soaked blankets flashed through Max's mind, accompanied by horrible, heartbreaking screams.

"You..." Max looked at her, the spiraling feeling coming back to her stomach, "you...gave Chloe those dreams."

"I wasn't trying to hurt her," Rachel held her hands out defensively, "I was trying to help, I swear to god. It was only supposed to be a few, just enough to balance things out. But it...still wasn't working. I got so desperate." She bowed her head, the hand on her leg tightening into a claw. "I started giving her more and more, hoping it might be enough. I tried to do it as slowly as possible, but the more dire things got, the less I could afford to be gentle."

"But...wait, no." Max scratched at her head as she tried to work it out. "A lot of them were things I already remember. How would that help?"

"Not exactly," Rachel replied. "They were close, but not the same. I started by picking the ones most similar to what you already knew. I don't know, I just thought it might have less side-effects. But the ones she saw, they were always a little different. Small details like the kind of coffee someone was drinking or what sort of poster was on the wall. Things she'd never think to question or even notice at all."

Max had never really considered that someone could be behind Chloe's dreams, but it made a lot of the descriptions Chloe had used in the past make much more sense. She felt she should be angry, and she admittedly was to some degree. Watching Chloe go through her episodes was among the hardest things Max had ever done. It decimated her heart each and every time. But if it really was an attempt to stop the world from ending and ultimately keep her and Chloe together, how mad could she really be? It seemed she'd been asking herself that a lot recently, and it was equal parts frustrating and enlightening.

"There's a reason I did it," Rachel said quietly, interrupting Max from her introspection. "I mean, aside from being desperate. It didn't feel good to put her through that, but I also know that if I had been able to explain everything and ask her face to face if she was okay with it, she would've said yes." She chuckled. "She would have said I was going too easy on her."

"Yeah, you're right," Max agreed. She could just picture Chloe arguing about it. "I'm kind of glad she didn't know. We don't...handle moderation well when it comes to protecting each other."

"I know," Rachel and Nightmare Max said in unison, causing Max to let out a hushed, almost embarrassed, chuckle. A silence followed, and she began to feel the pressure of tears collect around her eyes.

"I keep forgetting," she whispered, "I don't know how, but I keep forgetting that everything's...gone. It's so hard to believe. I don't know what I'm supposed to do." She could hear Rachel beside her trying to work out something to say. "It's okay. I know you tried." In the midst of another wave of silence, a question bloomed in Max's mind. "Hey, do...either of you know how we broke the loop?"

"Because she went back with you," Nightmare Max said, phrasing it like it should be obvious. "Saved Chloe, stopped the storm. Ta-da."

"Yeah, but is that all there is to it? Really?" Max nibbled on her fingernail, her eyebrows angled in stern contemplation. "It's hard to imagine that we had to try that many times just for her to grab me at the right moment. I just can't believe it took that long to figure that out."

"It could've gone on much longer," Rachel replied. "Infinite possibilities, all with their own probability? The amount of times you ever even made it to the lighthouse is probably a small percentage of your attempts. All things considered, you may have accomplished it relatively fast."

"Fast?" Nightmare Max made a sound of disgust. "What a joke. You weren't the one who had to live it." She huffed and looked away. "The answer is 21% of the time, by the way."

"More than I would've thought," Rachel admitted.

"Even still," Max said, projecting her voice loudly enough to quell the squabbling from either side of her, "it's just...silly? I don't know. You'd think we would've been curious enough to try jumping back together eventually, but it wasn't even our idea. It just happened by accident."

"Variables are weird like that," Rachel offered. "Plus, like I told you before, you weren't just trying to save Chloe. You wanted to save everyone. That's a pretty small target given the circumstances."

"Well yeah, that's the other thing." Max turned to the other Max and offered a quizzical look. "If there was some part of me that was able to abandon a timeline when things went wrong, why were some of my tries so...long?" She gestured to the markings splayed across the wall. "You said some of them lasted for years, but others only days. You showed me a version of myself that had already lost everyone in Arcadia Bay to the storm, yet didn't pull the plug until Chloe died."

"The photo jumps really fuck everything up," Nightmare Max explained, "they add years just like that." She snapped her fingers on the word 'that.' "Just think about the last time when things actually..." she squinted, "worked out for you." It was clear she still didn't think of it as much of a victory. "There were plenty of times during that week where it seemed like you should probably start over, but you didn't. You just thought you could fix it. Like with William, or Jefferson killing Chloe. Takes a while before you can admit to yourself that you're too tangled up to keep going."

"Tenacious little thing," Rachel said, looking over Max with pride. "You don't give up until you have to, and even then you're not really giving up." She stretched her legs out in front of her and wiggled her ankles around in a circular motion. "For what it's worth, it's possible that even all those failed attempts were necessary to tick the right box. Butterfly effect and all that. Who knows?"

"No fucking way," Nightmare Max whispered to herself. Her eyes were wide, darting left and right as she grappled with some unknown revelation. It certainly seemed to have some weight to it, as she looked like she'd just been sucker punched in the stomach. "No. You're fucking joking me."

"What?" Max asked. It was still a little surreal to see Nightmare Max acting in such a human way, even more so given how quickly the change had occurred. "Did you think of so-ugggh..." She stood up, wobbled a bit, then placed a hand on her stomach. "It's back... I can...feel it." The same breezy song as before filled her head and fluttered behind her eyes. Right on cue, another large polaroid photo manifested on the wall across from the bed. Max stepped back, trying to brush off the tugging sensation that swung in her chest. "Blurgh... Now what does it want me to see?"

"Do not even tell me that," the other Max said, directing the bitter words at the polaroid. "Don't you fucking dare."

"Uh...okay...?" Max turned to Rachel. "Do you know what this is?" Rachel shook her head, just as confused as Max was.

A loud crack of thunder boomed through the room, and with it, the polaroid was filled with color.

Chloe was stumbling through the forest, dragging an unconscious Max along with her. The heavy rain had turned turned the ground to mud, and she swore each time her foot slipped out from underneath her.

"Just hang in there, Max," she said. "It'll be okay. Just stay with me."

She continued to struggle, her knees trembling and buckling more than once from supporting Max's weight. At one point, she stopped and had to switch shoulders. She never quit talking, though. And even as the storm blared its war drum, her words were crystal clear.

"Come on, Max. Just a little further."

"It's okay, it's okay. You got this."

"Don't leave me, alright? I need you."

Finally, a raspy, slurred voice answered her back.

"Chloe..." was all it said.

"Max!" Chloe stopped and flipped Max around so she could see her face and cupped her cheek. She frowned as she realized the girl was simply mumbling whilst unconscious. "Fuck. Okay, just hang with me a little more."

"Chloe..." Max groaned again.

"Yep, it's me," Chloe grunted as she began ascending the gradual slope, "your best friend in the whole wide world and super awesome side-kick that really needs to exercise a little more. Holy shit." She mouthed 'fuck' as her foot sunk deep into the mud. "This sucks. This fucking sucks. Let's go, Max. Come on."

"Chloe... I love you..." Max said. Taken aback, Chloe glanced to the side.

"You know, if you keep saying stuff like that," Chloe readjusted, making sure Max's arm was firmly around her shoulders, "you're going to start giving a girl the wrong impression." She'd already looked worried and afraid, but now there was the barest hint of a blush. "...hang on, Maxers."

Finally on the path to the lighthouse, it became marginally easier for Chloe to carry her. Unfortunately, the stable ground didn't come without its own downside. The slope she'd been hobbling up was now much steeper, and she could already feel gravity nipping at her heels, just waiting for her to tumble backwards.

"My Chloe..." Max muttered, "please... Don't hate me..."

"What in the hell is going on in that head of yours?" Chloe stopped once more, out of breath and in need of a quick rest. She took Max in her arms and cleared away the wet hair the clung to her forehead. "I don't know if you can hear me in there, but don't listen to whatever bullshit your mind is telling you. I could never hate you. You know what we went through together this week. We're a team, right? Nothing can break us up."

"I...can't believe I said I loved her while I was unconscious," Max rubbed at the back of her neck and relished the flustered warmth that came to her cheeks.

"Oh, this is too good," Rachel said, flashing a big, mischievous smile at Max. "This is fucking poetry. Holy shit, this is amazing!"

"Huh? What do you mean?" Max asked.

"Hmmm, what do I mean?" Rachel shot the question at the other Max, her smile widening as she made eye contact with her.

"Fuck you," Nightmare Max replied with a barbed tongue.

Realizing the two were too busy bickering to give her a straight answer, Max simply focused on the polaroid again.

Chloe came to another rest. Through the last bit of trees, she had a clear sight of the storm. It was much closer than it had been before she began her ascent. She looked toward the town, then back up to the lighthouse. She seemed confused, and a bit scared.

"How did you know it would miss the lighthouse?" she asked, though it was clear she wasn't expecting a response.

Surprisingly, she got one.

"My Chloe," she said again, the words all sloppy and half-formed, "give...anything to wake up next to you..." There was a beat, and then her next sentence was much clearer. "Maybe if I get to the lighthouse, this will all finally end..."

Chloe stared up into the sky, the rain beating her face as she scrunched her lips and began to cry. She dipped one hand into her jacket pocket to check for something, then coughed out a single sob.

"Yeah," she whispered, "I...think it might..."

Bearing a new, tragic solution, she started up the final bit of the hill.

"Max," Max rasped, her choppy voice carrying something of a bitter tone, "do you...really think she has any...feelings for us?"

Frustrated that she was stopping yet again, Chloe furrowed her brow and looked at Max.

"...what?" she searched for any sort of lucidity on the girl's face, but found she was still out of it. "What the...fuck are you saying? Of course I... I mean, all week I've been... I thought maybe you..." She shook her head, knowing that her half-confession wasn't being heard by anyone but herself. Closing her eyes, she released a despaired sigh. She didn't physically let go of Max, but her heart did. Whether she was trying to lie to herself or the unconscious girl she was carrying, she forced more energy into her demeanor and trekked forward. "Please wake up!" she shouted as she took the last few steps. "Max, come on now! Don't worry... we'll be okay."

And then she tripped, bringing both her and Max to their knees in the mud.

The image within the polaroid paused. A bright, vicious light erupted from it, creating a spotlight that centered directly on Nightmare Max. Her shadow appeared on the wall behind her, stretching from floor to ceiling. It almost seemed to be looking down at her.

"Fuck you..." she said quietly, but the flames of anger more than compensated for the volume.

"Hang on," Max turned to her in disbelief, "my nightmare..." The other Max stared at her, knowing she'd connected the dots. "My...first nightmare."

"Found the variable," Rachel said, unable to hide another wave of giddy laughter.

Before anyone could comment further, another blast of thunder brought the 'movie' back to life. It sped up, fast-forwarding through all the parts of the scene Max remembered. She appreciated that it stuttered for a moment on their kiss, giving her time to recall how it felt. When it reached the point where Max was looking down at the photograph of the butterfly, it returned to normal speed.

Chloe stood away from Max, clutching herself as she cried. But she also looked antsy, like she was wrestling to ignore an overwhelming impulse. Flailing her arms, she gave into it, then ran over to Max. She placed a hand on her shoulder, and everything flashed.

But...even as the flash dimmed, the polaroid continued to show the two of them on the cliff. At Chloe's touch, Max turned around. The photo in her hand pulsed with liveliness, creating a swirl of time that pulled at them both.

"I'm sorry," Chloe said, "I'm sorry, I just... I don't want this to change your decision, but I couldn't let you go without telling you." She scooped Max into her arms and kissed her again. It was much hungrier and more passionate than the one they'd just shared. "I can't," she cried after they pulled away, "I can't. I just can't let you go knowing that you're not sure how I feel about you. No matter what, I need you to know that I love you. And, and maybe in another reality we could be..." She pressed her forehead to Max's. "I'm sorry. Please, don't change your mind. Please. We need to do this. But you had to know that I..."

"Chloe," Max said gently, cupping Chloe's cheek, "you are everything to me." The waves below them lurched higher as they changed into a fiery, auburn color. The sky followed suit, spitting down orange droplets that looked more like sparks than rain. The world burned around them, wrapping them in the familiar bubbling of an incinerated polaroid. Max smiled with a knowing glint in her eye, then gave Chloe another peck on the lips. "Hey... move a little to the left when you push him, okay?"

Flames tore through the polaroid in streaks, pulling it down from its place on the wall into a pile of ashes. It was quiet for what may very well have been the equivalent of years, then Nightmare Max spoke.

"I...wasn't able to talk to you before that." She looked down, her fingers tapping against her legs. "You must be fucking with me. I wasn't...I don't know, strong enough to bring you here. And I was so goddamn excited when I finally could. I waited so long to be able to tell you how much I hate you. To blame you for everything that happened. I..." She broke into laughter. It was strangely nostalgic to hear her unhinged cackling, and though it would often be cause to worry in the past, it lacked the bite it once had. It was a...normal sort of crazy. "I can't...believe this."

Without saying anything, Max sat back down between the girls. She studied Nightmare Max for a moment, then wrapped her arms around her.

"You're hugging me," the other Max observed, devoid of emotion.

"I am," Max replied. "Maybe you didn't even know you were doing it, but in the end, you were the one who broke the cycle."

"No," Nightmare Max shook her head, "no, no, no. I was not trying to help you. I wouldn't do that. I wanted you to feel the pain I felt. I wanted to see you cry as you gave her up again. I didn't... I wouldn't have..."

"You're technically Max Caulfield," Rachel said softly, as if she wasn't sure whether she wanted to interrupt.

"But I didn't-" the other Max began to say.

"And if there's one thing we know about Max Caulfield," Rachel continued, winking at Max, "is that she will stop at nothing to save Chloe Price. Whether she knows it or not, apparently." Defeated, Nightmare Max buried her face in her hands and muffled a scream. "Still..." Rachel looked back to where the polaroid was, "you caught that at the end there, right?"

"Yeah," Max nodded, becoming more serious. "I told Chloe to...move to the left. I was talking about Nathan, wasn't I?" She rubbed one of her eyes and made a 'tch' sound. "Now how could that be possible?"

"Good question," Rachel propped up her chin with her fist. "That whole conversation shouldn't exist. The last thing you remember is Chloe grabbing your shoulder, then you were yoinked back in time. That part at the end shouldn't have happened, right?"

"I guess?" Max shrugged. "I don't know anymore. I can't keep up with all the rules."

"I...think that's alright," Rachel responded, "because I'm pretty sure whatever rules there are, you broke basically all of them." She puckered her lips and tried to think.

"You know," Nightmare Max planted her hands behind her and leaned back, "for someone in the back pocket of a deity, you sure are woefully uninformed about how any of this works. Aren't you supposed to have the lowdown on...everything? Guess omniscience isn't all it's cracked up to be."

"Well, it was a hell of a lot easier before there were infinite parallel universes to keep track of!" Rachel snipped back. Her eyes lit up. "Hold on, I think... Oh shit, I think I know what happened." She pointed at the other Max, who returned the gesture with a scowl. "You yourself said that it was the first time you were able to actually...do anything, right? Like, influence things?"

"...yes," Nightmare Max replied coldly. Already displeased with what she'd learned, it appeared she wanted no part of Rachel's new theory.

"God, I'm such an idiot," Rachel lightly smacked herself in the forehead. "So that was the first time Max – any Max – had some kind of awareness of your existence. It's like...the sheer fact that you preoccupied any space in her mind at all essentially gave you a place in reality. For all intents and purposes, you became...real."

"Oh, alright," Nightmare Max spat. Fed up, she sprung from the bed with an irritated growl and stomped in front of Rachel. "Don't condescend to me, asshole. You're still talking to me like I'm just some unfeeling object. Is that how you see this, Geppetto? Your broken little marionette finally became a real boy?" She leaned in close, their noses nearly touching. Though she didn't necessarily seem scared, Rachel stayed perfectly still. She obviously hadn't expected such a violent response. "You've got it backwards, whore. You're just as fake now as you were when you were alive. The same cold-hearted bitch that manipulated everyone around her for her own gain." A wicked, fanged smile split across her face and she tapped herself on the nose. "Huh, look at that. Must be true."

"Woah, hey, easy," Max tugged on the girl's sleeve, "we're all just trying to figure this out, okay? We need to keep our heads."

"For what?" Nightmare Max asked, directing her frustration toward Max. "None of this fucking matters! It doesn't change anything! Yeah, let's write a coroner's report for the fucking universe! What good does that do us!?"

"Please," Max said in her gentlest voice, "I want to know. There's no reason we can't at least brainstorm, right?" She let go of the other Max's sleeve, but kept her hand on her forearm. "...please?" Nightmare Max looked down at her as she considered her plea, then finally huffed and returned to her spot. "Thank you," Max said, then she turned to the other girl beside her. She was staring off into space. "Rachel?"

"Oh, uh, right..." Rachel replied, shaking herself free from her thoughts. Nightmare Max's words had clearly hit their mark. "Look, I didn't mean to... I wasn't trying to insinuate..." She sighed, abandoning her rickety attempt at apologizing. "Okay, so there's no way you would have been able to tell Chloe what to do unless you'd already seen it happen, which is...obviously impossible. I mean, there was only one timeline. When you went through the picture, that should have cut the other one short."

"You did say that's when the alternate realities were created," Max noted. "That me and Chloe going back together is what caused that."

"Yeah, that's what I thought," Rachel said, "but I never really understood what happened or why that would be the case. It just seemed like Occam's Razor. But no, I actually don't think it was Chloe going back with you that split the timeline. I think someone...else went back, too. Kind of." Reluctantly, she looked at Nightmare Max. "Anything you might have said or done to Max, you did from in here. You couldn't physically interact with anything in the 'real' world, but you did at least leave a footprint in Max's mind." She hesitated, trying to figure out how to best word her next sentence. "Given what...er, who...you are, that footprint isn't bound to a single timeline. Or any timeline."

"Enough!" Nightmare Max shook her head. "This is... No, you need to shut the fuck up!" She turned to Max, her eyes brimming with tears. "Make her stop," she begged, "she's...she's trying to blame me! Again!" She pulled her knees to her chest and hid her face. "I can't take this anymore... I really, really can't." Her helpless, almost childlike reaction caused Max to shoot an accusatory look at Rachel.

"I'm not blaming you," Rachel quickly responded, "I'm not, I promise. You...didn't do anything wrong." Sensing Max's wariness, she held a hand over her heart in sincerity. "I mean it, I swear. It had to happen. It's the reason any of this worked."

"Explain," Max said, throwing enough weight into her voice to make it demanding, but not explicitly hostile.

"She can't go back in time," Rachel waved her hand over the room, "not from in here, where she basically is the literal concept of going back in time. She can only exist beyond it." She glanced at the other Max, then closed her eyes. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to talk about you like you're not here." Taking a deep breath, she looked at the girl more intently. "You connected yourself to that timeline by making your presence known. But when Max used the photo, she retained that memory of you, essentially taking you back in time with her."

"While part of me stayed behind," Nightmare Max said quietly, peeking up from her knees. "One foot in the present, one in the past. I...broke the timeline."

"You...did," Rachel admitted, "but you changed how the confrontation in the bathroom went down, too. By being in both timelines at once, you created a...real, actual paradox. Max could only warn Chloe about Nathan if she had already experienced it, which she...couldn't possibly do without warning Chloe. Both events were influencing each other at the same time." She narrowed her eyes and rubbed her temples. "What the shit?"

"Uhh...alright, hang on," Max mirrored Rachel, massaging her own temples, "can you lay that out for me a little...easier?"

"She's just calling me a rubber band," the other Max said, a hint of dryness creeping into her voice. She'd apparently regained some of her spunk, but her tone was still mostly thoughtful. "Like...stretching two different timelines together until even they were confused which one was which. You were basically feeding intel to yourself." She looked up, her eyes scanning over the scratches in the ceiling. "Huh. A memory not even I remember."

"But then...after he shot her and the autopilot kicked in...?" Max gave her a quizzical look.

"The rubber band snapped," Nightmare Max replied. "You went zombie mode and popped out on Friday afternoon, but the other timeline was already at that point. There was nowhere else for it to go. So when it tried to 'advance' forward, it must have been like crashing a car into a wall." She was silent for a moment, then she popped her lips. "Well...I guess it is my fault. The self-destructing bomb."

"For what it's worth," Rachel chimed in, "I think we're way past pointing fingers. I know I don't really have the right to say that, but...we all played our role, both good and bad."

"Wowser," Max couldn't help but laugh at the absurdity, "we really did tag team that, huh?" What little humor she found in the situation was quickly drained. "Then...what was the fucking point? Everything we did backfired. Why even give us the chance? I don't get Arcadia's logic."

Suddenly, a quake passed through the floor, rattling the furniture that dotted the room. It was accompanied by a growing, almost mechanical roar that reminded Max of a train. Looking to the window, she saw something enormous. Though she could tell it was moving, and that it was doing so speedily, it didn't seem to be making much progress. Either that, or it was just that big. She checked the other window and found the same shadow whirling by. Then she understood – it had them surrounded, and was circling them in a loop. She moved her hand just a fraction and felt it brush against something. Looking down, she saw nothing there, but felt it again when she twitched her fingers. Silky in texture, it was like a sheet so thin, it was invisible.

"Can you tell what it's thinking?" Nightmare Max asked Rachel, unimpressed by the creature outside.

"I can't read its mind," Rachel replied, "if it even really has one." Her mouth quirked into a half-frown. "I'm with Max. I still don't understand why it brought her here or what the purpose of any of this is, given how everything else turned out. It's..." She noticed Max was intently staring at her hand. "Max?"

"I...can still do it," she said quietly. Flexing her fingers, she once again felt something feathery ripple off her fingertips. It was a familiar sensation, and she let it roll into her palm. She knew she could close her fist around it and make it hers. The cuts across her fate lines shimmered, and she looked to the window, where she found the same glow blurring by in zigzagging stripes.

Neither Rachel or Nightmare Max spoke, but they shared a similar look of unease.

She had to wonder, what would happen if she were to use her power in a place where there was nothing to rewind? As the other Max had said, mixing time travel with somewhere that has no time didn't seem to be the best idea. It was that exact thing that led to everything being destroyed. Of course, there was no longer anything left to destroy.

Except, oddly enough, destruction itself.

She glanced at Nightmare Max, taking note of the concern in her eyes. For her, Max's powers had never brought anything but despair. It must have been like looking down the barrel of a loaded gun. Which...was exactly what Max needed.

"I...have an idea," Max said, getting to her feet.

"No," the other Max responded, furiously shaking her head. "Whatever it is, fucking no."

"No, listen," Max held her hand up, "I think...if I rewind from in here, I might be able to bring everything back."

"What...makes you think that would work?" Rachel asked with a skeptical tilt of her head.

"Because, rewinding created this whole mess," Max explained. "It made the 'explosion' that wiped everything out. If I rewind again, now that there's nothing to actually reverse, then...maybe it'll cause another explosion. One that...makes things?"

"What, you think you can jury-rig a fake Big Bang?" Nightmare Max asked with open-mouthed smile. "Uh...yeah, sounds totally possible. Not at all ridiculous."

"Yes!" Max nodded, completely blowing past her counterpart's teasing. "I think I could hold it until everything's back to normal." She shrugged, the gesture heavy with exhaustion. "It's not like there's anything to lose, right? What's the worst that could happen? It doesn't work?"

"But..." Rachel let out a somber sigh, "Max, that wouldn't actually fix anything. Even if that worked, things would break again as soon as you let go of the rewind. Everything would still be drawn to 'center.' To her." She nodded at the other Max.

"What if there wasn't a center?" Max glanced at the window, where the massive shadow was still whirling by. "What if there's no magnet or whatever to pull things back together?" Seeing the confusion on both Rachel and Nightmare Max's faces, she took a deep breath. "Rach, you said you could give people my memories, just like you could take them away, right?"

"Yeah..." Rachel had barely finished the word before she narrowed her eyes. "No. No, Max. Absolutely not."

"I'm fine with it," Max protested, "honestly, I really am. I'm not scared. This is the best chance we have." She turned to Nightmare Max and offered a sad smile. "I can...help you. Finally."

"I said no," Rachel's tone was harsh, bordering on legitimate anger, "I'm not going to fucking kill you. Not after everything that's happened. You cannot ask me to do that."

"Why not?" Max took Rachel's hand and gave it a light squeeze. "Look, I understand what my role in all of this is. The goal here was to save Chloe, right? That's the sole reason I got my powers. If I can bring reality back, she'll be alive. It'll finally be over." She leaned forward and searched Rachel's eyes. "The real cycle isn't going to be broken until she's safe for good. You know that."

"I refuse," Rachel looked away, her jaw tightening. "What would Chloe think of this? She'd never agree with it. She wouldn't want that."

"Chloe's not here!" Max shouted, tearing her hand out of Rachel's grasp. "I promised her I would do anything to keep her safe. I promised. Sacrificing myself is fucking easy if I know it's for her." She gestured to Nightmare Max. "And you'd be free. It'd finally be over. You'd...come with me." The other Max glanced down as she mulled it over, and Max turned back to Rachel. "What is the point of me being 'alive' if this is all there is? You're being unreasonable."

"I don't give a fuck!" Rachel stood up and jabbed her finger into Max's chest. "God dammit, I can't do that to her! I'm sorry, Max. I am. But I have to...fuck, I have to do something for her! Protecting you is all that matters to me. I failed at saving her, but I'm not going to fuck up saving you!"

"But look at her!" Max pointed at Nightmare Max. "She's been here for an eternity! She's in pain! You'd just be doing the same thing to me! It'd be an act of mercy for both of us, and it'll save everyone else." An image of Chloe propped up in bed flashed through her mind. Sad and tired, her eyes pleading for Max to turn the dial on the machine. "We're just...suffering, Rachel."

"I..." Rachel sniffled, then turned her back to Max and marched to the other end of the room. "I'm sorry. I can't...make decisions like this. I'm not as strong as you. I can't do it. I won't trade you."

The words brought an tidal wave of deja vu with them. To go back in time and die for the sake of everyone else and placing the weight of that decision on the shoulders of another... It was a tale Max was intimately familiar with.

"Do I get a say in this?" Nightmare Max asked, interrupting the argument.

"What?" Max turned to her. "But...isn't this what you want?"

"Well, yeah, but..." she shook her head, "I don't know. I can't think straight."

"Ugh," Max spat out a frustrated breath and looked back to Rachel. "I'm begging you. Please. I don't even feel complete without Chloe, anyway. I don't want to be here without her."

"And she'd say the same fucking thing," Rachel replied, flailing her arms. "God, I'm fucking sorry, okay?! You're asking too much from me, Max. I understand that you need her. It's like you two shared a goddamn heartbeat. You shared everything. Two halves of a whole. I...get it, Max. But..."

"Wait..." Max glanced at the floor as she turned Rachel's words over in her head, "wait, wait..." Her head snapped up, her eyes wide. "Shared everything...?"

Max knew that everything Rachel said was one hundred percent true. If Chloe were in her place, she'd be making the same exact argument. She'd never want Max to sacrifice herself. She'd offer to do it instead. In a way, she already had.

But she also knew that the thing that made her and Chloe's relationship so special were the experiences they shared - all of the unbelievable things they'd gone through together. It was what separated them from the rest of the people who were fortunate enough to fall in love. They were a team. Partners in crime. No matter the trial, they faced it together.

When one was happy, they shared that joy to the other.

Likewise, if one was hurting, the other was always there to help shoulder the pain.

"Max, what is it?" Rachel asked, her voice now absent of all traces of anger. Max stared at her for a long moment before conceding with a sigh. But then, she smiled.

"Split them," she said.

"Split them?" Rachel cocked her head, unsure of Max's meaning.

"Between me and Chloe," Max responded. "Give me half, give her the other half." She gave Nightmare Max a calm, confident nod, then walked over to Rachel. "You said it yourself. You thought separating the memories might lessen the strain on the universe. Instead of one source dragging everything down," she pointed at the other Max, "there would be two. Me and Chloe. It would distribute the weight."

"Like...a bed of nails?" Rachel brought her hand to her mouth and 'hmm'd.' There was a glint in her eye that said she found the prospect quite intriguing.

"Right, exactly!" Max replied, overtaken by a surge of enthusiasm. It quickly receded into a more subdued excitement, and she went back over to Nightmare Max. "Hey... There's nothing I can do to make up for all the hurt you've been through. But, you know, if this works...you'd get to be with her."

"I..." the other Max stared back at her, her eyes filled with awe, "I...would?"

"Yeah," Max smiled at her, "you'd be part of her, just like you'd be part of me."

Nightmare Max's mouth tried to form words, but for once, she was tongue-tied. Though the sudden glisten in the corner of her eyes made her thoughts loud and clear.

"But," Rachel's shoulders sagged as her mood deflated, "Chloe doesn't have the same tolerance that you do. Even if you can handle half, I don't know if she can."

"Chloe only had a negative reaction when she saw memories of herself dying," Max said. She wasn't particularly thrilled about it, but to her, the answer was obvious. "Give me all the bad ones. Easy as that. I can take it. I want it to be as painless as possible for her. Understand?"

"What if it's still more than one of you can take?" Rachel took a quick glance at one window, and then the other. She had the look of a child afraid her parents might walk in on her misbehaving. "What if your rewind idea doesn't work?"

"We have to try," Max placed her hands on Rachel's shoulders, "this is the best possible outcome, and that's what you've been trying to help me achieve. Right?"

"Right," Rachel nodded after a moment's hesitation.

"So...okay, cool!" Max clapped her hands together. "How, uh, how do we do this?"

"Does she have to eat me?" Nightmare Max asked with a smirk. "Absorb my essence?"

"I'm not hungry, though," Max giggled. She had no way of knowing if her plan would be successful, but being able to have hope for the first time in what seemed forever was more than enough to brighten her mood. "Plus, I assume you and I are pretty gamey."

"I don't really know," Rachel said, responding to Max's previous question. "I've never done it like this. I've only ever implanted them as dreams, but you're...pretty awake. And I don't know if sleeping is really an option here."

"Well, is it like...a spell or something?" Max waggled her fingers. "Can you just shoot me with a memory blast like it's a fireball?"

"Jesus," Rachel covered her face as she laughed, "you're such a nerd." She rolled her eyes in a conciliatory manner. "Okay, I guess it wouldn't be that hard to believe given everything else."

"I was gonna say," Max said, playfully squinting at her. She suddenly staggered to the left as a whirlpool opened up in her chest. "Blugh, uh..." Her attention shifted to one of the windows. "Every time I think I'm used to it, it hits me harder."

"Yeah, you know, as 'yay teamwork' as all this has become," the other Max said, joining the other girls in the center of the room, "I still fucking detest that thing."

"I think that's fair," Rachel replied, nervously playing with her hands as she watched the storm of scales spin around them. She tore her eyes away and looked at Max. "Are...you ready to do this?"

"I think so," Max said. She turned to Nightmare Max. "What's going to happen to you?"

"Not sure," she shrugged. "Might hurt a little, I guess. Probably not as bad as it'll hurt for you, though."

"Oh cool, thanks," Max chuckled.

"No problem... Hey," the other Max grabbed her by the elbow, "I just wanted to tell you that, uh... I know you said you wanted to take all of the bad memories. And trust me, there are a bunch. But don't worry too much, alright?" She scrunched her lips, as if it pained her to admit it. "Despite everything, I can tell you that there are a lot more good memories than there are bad. That's why it was so hard to lose them."

"I believe that," Max responded, patting her on the shoulder. She took a deep breath, then stood directly in front of Rachel. "Alright, let's do this."

"I don't know how this is going to go down," Rachel said seriously. She frowned, and for a moment, looked as though she might back out. "Max, if this ends up being too much for you..."

"It's okay," Max replied, hugging her tightly. "I know what I'm getting myself into." Her voice dipped to a whisper. "If something happens, I just wanted to say thank you. You really are just as great as Chloe said."

"Likewise," Rachel laughed, reluctant to break the embrace. Once they did, she stepped back and sighed. "Okay. Just...close your eyes, I guess."

"Roger," Max said.

She did as she was instructed, noticing that her eyelids did suddenly feel much heavier than before. Tiredness was a nebulous concept in the void, and though she hadn't felt the need to sleep since she'd arrived, there was a sense of surrender as she exhaled. It was soothing in a way, as if she were stepping into the sun's rays. She couldn't help but wonder if this was what Chloe felt when the morphine took her.

At first, nothing seemed to be happening. She could still sense the presence of Rachel and the other Max nearby. But then, she felt a piece of her mind come undone, splitting off from the rest of her wits like a cracking glacier. It plummeted down into the hollow spot in her chest, taking her equilibrium along with it. A violent strobe light flashed behind her eyelids and, for a moment, she thought she might be on fire. A soft murmur nipped at her ear as another part of her sanity detached.

Suddenly weak, her legs gave out, but she didn't fall. Foreign images and unintelligible sounds began to slowly trickle into the holes created by her crumbling mind. A gust of wind shot through her head, leaving behind traces of the lives she had once lived. Then there was a sharp, terrible pain as the wind took on a more brutal form, as if someone was running scissors along the inside of her skull. She felt a tickle in her nose, followed by the taste of blood.

Dazed, she opened her eyes and immediately felt another piece of her mind dislodge. She couldn't tell what she was looking at, but it washed over her like a volley of arrows. Smeared shapes of various colors danced in the distance as the wail of an angry violin string forced more blood through her nose and mouth. She coughed, expelling some of it, but the red splatter just hung in the air.

Hoooo fuck, okay. Keep it together, Max. You can do this. You can take it.

There was no floor to speak of, yet she could feel its rumbling reverberate through her shoes. She searched for signs of Rachel or the other her, but they were nowhere to be found. A new swath of colors splashed high above her, then streaked down a wall that didn't exist. The persistent, stinging noise that surrounded her sputtered and shifted into a staccato rhythm. The thrum was sharp, digging into her skin with each exaggerated note, until it suddenly began to sound like a voice.

Who...is that? Is it me? Chloe? What is it saying?

Though they were unquestionably English words, she still couldn't make them out. It was as if they were being spoken too quickly, or perhaps too slowly. Unsure of whether or not making the effort to understand them was even a good idea, she brought her hands to her head and tried to listen. It was instantly overwhelming, squeezing her and inducing a punch of claustrophobia. However, she was able to hold her focus long enough to realize it wasn't just one voice, but many voices from multiple people being squished into a singular sound. She thought back to how Chloe described her most recent dreams, claiming that they were simply 'too much' and that everything was stacked on top of each other to the point of being incomprehensible.

It wasn't getting much easier to see exactly what was happening with the abstract, fuzzy shapes, but she was starting to be able to pick out singular frames of movement. She found that each one, when combined with the voices, filled her with an array of emotions far more intense than they'd usually be. When they dipped into a despaired chant, she felt the urge to cry. Likewise, when they were jovial, giggles were forcefully pried from her mouth. She singled out a flash of herself lying on the floor, which was followed by a sound she could only describe as nails on a chalkboard. As it zipped through her brain, she cupped her nose and caught a new torrent of blood. Of course, when she yanked her hand away, the blood stayed behind.

Fuck! I can do it. I can do it...

She burst into tears at a particularly distraught wail from the memories. The mashed up words were steeped in something red, spoken as though they were traveling through water. Her skull lit up with another jolt of electricity, and she thought she could see herself collapse to the ground. A particular string of words snagged around her throat, pulsing just a bit louder than the rest. At first, it was nonsense like the rest, but they soon came together in just the right way to create clear speech.

"PLEASE! DON'T LEAVE ME!"

It plucked at her heartstrings, wrenching a sob from deep within her gut. She'd heard it before, back in the hallway filled with Chloe's necklaces.

Oh god... Wasn't me... It WAS me, but it was her... They were all her... She was so...sad...

Involuntarily, she snorted, which led to a descending spiral of laughter. She caught the barest glimpse of her and Chloe holding hands as they walked through a city. She heard someone, perhaps herself, declare her love. A fount of giddiness sprung up from her spasming stomach, causing her to laugh even harder. There were tears again, but they were the happiest kind.

It only lasted for a moment before it vanished and she was thrown through a wall of grief. Still, that was even more fleeting a feeling, and she was yanked back into a state of euphoria. Flung back and forth like a yo-yo, it was beginning to become far too difficult to tell what emotion she was experiencing, or if it was even the appropriate one. What she was certain of, though, was that the occasional ache that seared her thoughts was only getting worse. She felt as though shackles had clamped around her wrists and ankles, each pulling in a different direction.

A chorus, stained by angelic warmth, swarmed her ears. She saw a lightning quick frame of Chloe and herself kissing in gentle snowfall, and then another where they were running through shallow, blue water that stretched to the horizon. Her heart swelled, and even though she couldn't visualize them, she knew many similar moments were adhering to her memory. The joy she felt built to an almost unbearable potency, carving a smile on her face from ear to ear. It was like she had the distilled essence of happiness hooked into her veins via IV. Growing, growing, growing, it screamed toward the heavens, dwarfing any sort of bliss that might be found there.

But then all she could hear was a bloodcurdling scream wracked with agony. It took a moment for her to realize it wasn't coming from the voices, but from her own mouth. Something deadly gored through her chest, though when she looked down, there was no wound. She doubled over as another thorn ripped across her stomach, and the blood from her nose pooled into a hovering puddle that crept up around her face. A gnarled hand reached into her head, planting a fresh seed of lunacy. Devastated pleas and shouts attacked her, crawling up along her ragged breath until they scratched the insides of her lungs.

And it was at that point, with tears streaming down her cheeks, Max knew her request to be given all of the bad memories had only just begun to be honored.

Have to...make it... Save everyone... Save...Chloe...

...

"Max? Can you hear me?" Rachel asked. Max let out a weak groan and slowly opened her eyes. She saw Rachel looking down at her, her expression a mixture of concern and excitement. "Oh, thank god. Holy shit, you really did it. Are you...okay?"

"Guh...um..." Max smacked her lips, cringing at the strong taste of iron on her tongue. "I...think so..." Still bleary, she could only just make out hundreds of bright green stars hanging in the air high above Rachel. She blinked the blurriness from her eyes and realized they weren't stars, but leaves. "Where...?"

"The forest again," Rachel replied. "I don't know when it happened, we were just suddenly here." She searched around them for a moment. "Arcadia seems to be gone for now."

"Oh, okay," Max said, knowing better than to question it. Her eye twitched, and it felt like something snapped back into place somewhere in her head. She groaned again. "Fuck, I feel like...I don't even know what I feel like." Even if she was 'okay,' there was still something leftover from the experience that kicked around in her thoughts. "That was...so awful. It was like-" Her eyes went wide and she sat up, nearly headbutting Rachel in the chin. "Wait, where is she? What happened to her?"

"Over there," Rachel responded, nodding to something over Max's shoulder.

Looking behind her, she found the other Max standing a ways off. She was hunched over, and though Max couldn't see her face, she could tell from the way her shoulders bobbed up and down that she was panting. Rachel offered her hand to Max, but when she tried to stand up, her knees buckled.

"Easy, easy," Rachel caught her and set her upright, "don't make any sudden movements. I'm sure you're still feeling a little weak."

"Right, yeah." Max let Rachel wrap her arms around her for support. She cleared her throat and called out to Nightmare Max. "Hey, uh...Max...? What happened?"

"Huh?" the other Max turned around, seeming somewhat surprised to hear her voice. She was in bad shape. Blood stained her lips and chin, leaving a stain all down the front of her shirt. Her pale complexion gave her the appearance of someone who was gravely ill, if not already a corpse. Most striking, though, were the thin cracks that ran through her face. Even in her damaged state, she managed a small smile. "Damn, you look like shit." She coughed, then dragged the sleeve of her hoodie across her mouth. "Like, just an absolute dumpster."

"You don't look so hot either," Max replied. She put weight on her foot and decided she was strong enough to stand on her own. With Rachel at her side, she went over to the other Max. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, just falling apart is all," Nightmare Max chuckled. Her eyes drooped shut and she took a deep, labored breath. "Fuck, that feels so weird." Opening them again, she looked Max up and down, summoning another quiet laugh. "I guess this might work after all. Just need to check with Chloe." She straightened her back and stretched her arms over her head, taking pleasure in the pops and crackles that accompanied the movement. "You know, it's nice that we can all suffer through this together. Feels like a real team effort." She raised an eyebrow and tilted her head at Rachel. "You want in on this? I could punch you in the teeth a couple hundred times. I don't mind at all."

"It wouldn't be entirely unwarranted," Rachel admitted.

"Listen," Max said, inching a bit closer to the other Max, "I...I'm so sorry you had to go through that. I know how you felt now. How scared and lonely you were. I'm sorry."

"Oh...thanks," Nightmare Max glanced away awkwardly before looking back at her. "That, um, means a lot." Curious, she studied Max's face again. "How are you holding up? I know firsthand it's not easy. You seem to be doing...alright?"

"No, it was..." she pawed at her chest where her heart was, "it was worse than I ever could have imagined. My heart is still aching." She briefly dared to explore some of the more painful memories, then shut it down when she began to cry. "The only reason I'm not completely broken is because we're one step closer to making things right. I have to be okay, because I need to see this through. I need to see her again."

It made sense that, without that hope to cling to, Nightmare Max became the beacon of madness Max had come to know her as.

"So...what now?" Rachel asked. She looked between the two Maxs with uncertainty. "That left you pretty beat up. I don't know if you have the strength to pull off such a big rewind."

"Oh please," Max laughed, "despite appearances, I'm riding a serious high right now. This is going to work. I know it is. I'm going to save everyone for the last fucking time. I'm going to get my life back. I'm going to hold her again." With a big, arguably creepy smile that would usually be better suited for the other Max, she pointed to herself. "I am fixing this shit, because I'm Maxine fucking Caulfield. Right?"

"The one and only," Nightmare Max said with a subtle smirk. It slowly turned into a scowl as she searched the forest around them. "My question is, even if this works, how can we trust that thing to not just throw another fucking tantrum and do all of this again to someone else?" Absentmindedly, she traced one of the cracks that went across her cheek. "Better yet, what about the Prescotts? Sean died, but is he still going to be dead if you manage to change things back? What if this thing still has an axe to grind?"

"Well, I mean, fuck that," Max responded, showing off the cuts in her palm, "I made myself very clear before. I'm grateful it gave me the chance to save Chloe, but if it fucks us over, I have zero problems coming back here and making sure it regrets that decision forever." She nodded very seriously. "And I literally mean forever."

"I can't imagine it'd bring you here and let us get this far if it still planned on fucking with things," Rachel added. "It gave you those powers so you could put an end to this. And..." she tapped her temple, "remember that I do have some insight into its motives. Not as much as I'd like, but enough that...well, I don't feel anything that would give that impression."

"Plus, you know the drill," Max said. "Just like everything else, I'll be damned if I let that stop me from trying." She shivered as another click sounded in her head and shook off the accompanying static. "So the plan is, I rewind and that should...will...undo everything that's happened. As soon as you're able to, you need to give Chloe those memories. Got it?"

"Got it," Rachel replied, still a bit uncertain, "I just hope it..." She stopped talking, her brow furrowing as she looked off somewhere in the distance. She stared through the trees, her confusion growing by the moment. Then suddenly, it was replaced by a gentle smile. "I'll be right there, just gimme a sec," she said softly. She turned back to Max. "Okay. If you're ready, I'm ready."

"Wait, what was that about?" Max leaned forward, trying to see who or what Rachel could've been speaking to, but found nothing.

"Don't worry," Rachel shook her head, still smiling, "let's just focus on this."

While Max was still curious, it didn't come close to outweighing her eagerness to enact the second part of her plan. She reached for Nightmare Max's hand and searched her eyes.

"You ready to see her again?" she asked.

"Yes," the other Max responded. "It's strange. It hasn't even happened yet but I feel...free." She thought for a moment, then sighed. "I should apologize, too. For everything I did to you. I guess it turns out I didn't mean it as much as I thought I did."

"Reminds me of Chloe," Max laughed quietly. Her mouth curled up in a contemplative expression. "Hey... I appreciate that you've been playing nice, but...I have to know. Do you still...hate me?"

"Uhh, I mean, I don't know..." Nightmare Max shrugged. "Chloe's been on your case for a while now about shitty self-esteem. So, let's just call it square and be proud that we're going to get the fuck out of here."

"That's a great idea," Max took her into a hug, which they'd both describe as a rather odd experience. After, for the sake of double-checking, she curled her fingers and was relieved to feel them slip under the fabric of reality. "Rachel," she said, turning to the girl," thank you again. For everything. I'm so happy I was finally able to meet you. Just...I wish it were under better circumstances."

"I know, I do too," Rachel replied, giving Max a hug of her own. "Still though, it was hella great. You lived up to, and exceeded, all the hype." She planted a kiss on her cheek, then let go. "You take care of her, got it? And make sure she takes care of you, too! I'll beat her ass."

"I will," Max chuckled. A somber hue colored her eyes and she shook her head. "Is there, um, any way I could..."

"Hey," Rachel gently directed Max's gaze back to her, offering a reassuring smile. "It's okay. I don't want you to feel guilty about that. It's not your fault that things happened the way they did. Besides, thanks to you, I'm going to live on in other realities." She held Max's stare, suddenly looking rather awestruck. "You and Chloe are heroes, you know. You're putting an entire multiverse on your shoulders. Countless people are going to live because of you two. Not just one version of them, but all of them. You're giving them everything that life has to offer. What could be more beautiful than that?"

"Wow, that is...a lot of praise to take in at once." Max cleared her throat, unable to hide the blush it gave her. "I'll have to let Chloe know. I've been trying to inflate her ego a little bit." She looked to Nightmare Max, who was simply observing the conversation with a glazed over expression. "If we leave, what'll happen to you? Or...William?" She'd been so caught up in everything that she hadn't thought to question why he never joined them. Unfortunately, she didn't have the restraint to wait around and find out.

"Not sure," Rachel said casually. "But...I'm okay with that. If we end up disappearing too, that's totally cool with me. I wouldn't...hate a change of scenery."

"Then I hope you get it," Max responded. Letting go of a deep sigh, she walked several paces away, then turned around. "Guess it's time to throw our Hail Mary." She looked at Rachel and Nightmare Max, exchanging final, silent goodbyes with each. Then she lifted her hand. "Welp...here goes."

She thrust her hand forward, plunging it through what felt like a flimsy sheet of Saran Wrap. A warm, vaguely gelatinous substance seeped between her fingers and she took a moment to analyze it.

It was a curious thing. There was always some kind of tactile aspect to rewinding, but since she'd come to this strange place with no name, time had a much more tangible feeling to it. Many people, including herself, had described her power as the ability to rearrange or manipulate the universe itself. She'd like to think it was akin to a simple nudge on the shoulder, just enough to encourage reality to rewrite a piece of its history. And maybe that was why it felt so different. The universe, and reality, were gone. Dead. Rewinding now was a lot more like breaking into the sternum of a cadaver with the hopes of jump-starting its heart.

Still undeniably woozy from her memory transplant, she made sure her feet were flat and sturdy. She moved her fingers, feeling the decomposing remains of life slide around them. There was no telling what might happen, something she was acutely aware of even despite her confidence. Then again, the whole idea was born from the fact that there wasn't anything to lose. There was no point in worrying about what could go wrong.

Setting her teeth, she pulled.

Unlike the last time she'd used her power at Pan Estates, she now felt complete control over it. There was an immediate strain on her arm, though it wasn't the sort that affected her muscles or strength. It simply reminded her that what she held was very, very precious.

She tugged harder and something came loose, mimicking the 'thunk!' of a lock being undone. Arcadia's breathing shook through her chest and she was unable to tell whether it was a sign of encouragement or if she was being reprimanded. She was no longer able to see the figures of Rachel or the other Max in her periphery, which at least confirmed that she was indeed accomplishing something. There was a thump in her palm as time opened its eyes and drew breath. She could practically hear the beep of a heart monitor, broadcasting the miracle of resurrection to a hospital staff that had long given up on their patient.

But then everything stopped, as if a fishing line had hit a snag.

What? What happened? No, no, no. Fuck, I can do this!

A vicious sound sprung from Max's throat, instantly dissolving in the unstable air around her. She grabbed her wrist with her free hand, hoping it might provide an extra bit of leverage, and jerked her whole upper body backwards. Her fingers sank into the flesh of spacetime and hooked around a bone. Surprisingly, she wasn't experiencing any of the side-effects that often came with rewinding. She didn't think her nose was bleeding, but it was hard to tell after how much it already had. There was no pounding in her head warning her that she was pushing herself too far. Aside from the off-putting, rhythmic gasping of Arcadia that slithered through her thoughts, she felt...well, fine.

Having inherited a large portion of Nightmare Max's madness, she was now able to tell that she'd been rewinding for at least five minutes. Certainly not very long for someone standing on the shores of 'forever,' but compared to her usual rewinds, it was quite the marathon. Still, she felt rejuvenated. Stronger than she'd ever been before. Sure, there was the odd sputter of resistance here and there, but she was able to correct them without trouble. She'd even consider it easy.

Suddenly, she lost her grip, and the world slipped away from her. Panicked, she tried to recapture it, but just barely came up short. While the vast majority of her thoughts were aimed toward trying to regain control, there was a small sliver berating herself for getting cocky. If something as stupid as that managed to ruin her plan, she'd never recover. Reaching out again, her fingertips grazed the edge of existence.

NO! I AM ENDING THIS RIGHT NOW!

Summoning a surge of fury, she lashed out once again and managed to successfully snatch a tattered strand of life. She let out a loud, thunderous scream that eroded in the vacuum she cast around herself. The hairs on her neck stood up as a titanic, infinite presence cast a watchful eye on her. She crushed her last remaining hope in her fist and, with all her might, yanked it toward her.

She stumbled, then fell forward...

---

Max jolted upright. Her arm was still outstretched, but where she had just held something of impossible weight, she was now empty-handed. Her first thought was...

FUCK!

Quick followed by...

Wait...

She realized she was staring at her desk. The screensaver on her laptop lazily bounced around the screen, emitting a faint flow that was still just bright enough to sting her eyes. Her heart began to beat wildly in her chest as she dragged her eyes from the desk to the girl lying next to her.

"H-holy shit," Max rasped, her voice cracking with intense emotion. "Chloe? Oh my god, Chloe, you're..." She stopped just shy of touching the girl's shoulder and tilted her head. Chloe's brow was crinkled in what seemed to be slight discomfort, and if she looked a bit closer, she could see her eyelids making the tiniest, subtle twitches.

She was dreaming.

---

Max, Rachel, and another, different Max stood in a small circle, discussing the next stage of their plan. Both versions of Max looked very worn down, with each sporting their own assortment of wounds. The Max with longer hair had a subtle bounce to her movements, carrying a nervous excitement to continue on.

"So the plan is," she said, "I rewind and that should...will...undo everything that's happened. As soon as you're able to, you need to give Chloe those dreams. Got it?"

"Got it," Rachel responded, though she didn't seem to share her enthusiasm. "I just hope it..." She stopped talking and turned her head, staring directly into the lens of the dreamer. At first, she looked confused, but then she smiled as recognition danced through her eyes. "I'll be right there," she said softly, "just gimme a sec." She faced Max again and nodded. "Okay. If you're ready, I'm ready."

"Wait, what was that about?" Max asked, peering around one of the larger trees in search of someone she couldn't see.

"Don't worry," Rachel shook her head, her smile growing just a bit bigger, "let's just focus on this."

The three continued speaking for some time until, eventually, Max separated herself from the others. Casting one final glance at Rachel and the other Max, she lifted her hand and everything began to spin. In the moments that followed, nothing seemed to make much sense. And then suddenly, only Rachel and the second Max remained.

"Weird to just see someone...leave this place," the other Max said. "I was able to slip out just before the world ended, but I was still on a leash." She was quiet for a moment. "So...do you think it's going to work?"

"...yes, actually," Rachel replied, still focused on the spot where Max had just been standing. She turned to the second Max and frowned. "Now that it's just us... I wanted to apologize. For, uh, you know. It sounds mean to say 'you' but..."

"I get it," the other Max looked at her in a way that was just shy of friendly. "I appreciate the sentiment. Can't say I'm all that sorry for being mean to you, but we can pretend I am if it helps you feel better."

"Nah," Rachel chuckled, "it's all good. I deserve that." Without waiting to see how the girl would react, she propped her knuckle under the other Max's chin and turned her head side to side, inspecting her injuries. "How are you feeling?"

"Oh, just marvelous," the second Max snarked, "I'm basically in the process of dying so, you know, a lot better than usual."

"That's...macabre," Rachel said, receiving an innocent shrug in return, "but I guess I can't blame you." She went onto her tiptoes and arched her back, giving a contented 'ahhh' as she did so. "Well, alright," she took hold of the string on the other Max's hoodie and gave it two playful yanks, "come on, we still have some work to do."

"Where are we going?" the other Max asked, following after Rachel.

"Just over here," she responded, pointing to...nothing. "I just want to take the opportunity to talk to her a bit first. I never did get the chance to before." She hurried a bit further, then came to a stop.

"Uh, talk to who?" the other Max looked around quizzically.

"Chloe, duh," Rachel laughed. She gestured to the area right in front of them. "It's right about here."

"Please just make some fucking sense," the second Max groaned. She rubbed at her eye, creating a spider-web pattern of cracks around it. "In case you couldn't tell, I'm not exactly firing on all cylinders."

"This is Chloe's dream," Rachel explained, "or at least part of it. I noticed it right before Max used her power. She's here right now. This little spot is...you could think of it like a camera lens." She gave a friendly wave to no one. "It's how I knew it was going to work."

"Sorry, what?" the other Max studied the empty space Rachel seemed so focused on. "Aren't you the one in charge of this whole dream thing? How's this happening without you knowing about it?"

"I know about it now," she said casually, "so that's all that really counts." She looked at the other Max and raised an eyebrow. "Are you still surprised by how this stuff works? The universe is back online now, which means linearity is out the window."

"So, what, you somehow bootstrapped yourself?" The other Max snorted. "How very...you."

"Oh, like you have room to talk," Rachel snickered. "Let's be real – everything you've gone through, all the pain and grief you've endured, just so happened to be the secret key to breaking the loop. That doesn't strike you as...convenient?"

"Shit, you caught me," the other Max rolled her eyes, "I was the one who subconsciously encouraged Max to keep trying over and over, willingly destroying my own sanity in the process just so I could eventually have the chance to help her and Chloe be together." She crossed her eyes and swirled her finger by her temple. "I'm just too fucking cuckoo now to realize it." As she finished speaking, the sarcasm vanished from her face. She furrowed her brow in confusion and looked down at the ground.

"So, do you want me to comment on that or just let it go?" Rachel asked. The cold stare she received in return made it obvious which option the other Max preferred. "Aaaanyway," she said in a singsong voice, "my point is, we're back on track. In fact, things are even clearer than they were before. I can see all kinds of fun stuff! Like..." she grew a coy smile and darted her eyes to 'Chloe,' "well, spoilers are no fun. They'll get there."

"Cool," the second Max replied, crossing her arms, "are we about ready to wrap this up? I fucking hate this place. So, so much."

"Soon," Rachel patted her on the shoulder, despite the glare that warned against it, "not much longer, okay? Just...can you do me a favor?"

"Sure," she replied in a deadpan manner, "I'd love nothing more."

"Thanks," Rachel said, ignoring the insincerity of her response. "Can you just let me...talk to her a little? Without interrupting?" She puffed out her bottom lip and clasped her hands together. "Pleeeeease?" At her request, the other Max's harsh expression softened.

"Uh, sure," she said quietly, "I guess she'd probably like that..." She walked a few feet away and turned her back in a useless, but appreciated, attempt at giving privacy.

Looking in just the right spot for what could be considered eye contact, Rachel took a deep breath.

"Hey there, Chloe," she whispered. "I know this is...hella weird, but I guess I don't really need to explain it. You'll understand it all soon enough. I guess that's sort of the plus side to this. Max will be able to fill in any blanks that might be left over. So...I don't really want to talk about any of that." She clutched the bullet hanging from her necklace. "I just want to talk to you as me. Like how we used to before all of this crazy shit." Suddenly seeming self-conscious, she cleared her throat. "I'm sorry I wasn't always honest with you. If I could change just one thing, it would be that. I don't think you ever lied to me. You trusted me unconditionally, and I was too scared to give you that same kindness."

"Mmn..." she squinted and smiled, "I bet you'd tell me not to apologize, but just let me have it, okay? And I also want to tell you how lucky I am to have been able to spend time with you. I couldn't ask for a better friend. You really helped make life special." With an annoyed scoff, she ran a finger under her eye to chase a tear away. "I'm so proud of you. Really. You've come so far from the angry girl I once knew. I mean, working at The Two Whales? You're such a fucking sellout! Max has been such a good influence on you that it's almost scary." She giggled. "Speaking of, how about that girl of yours? She's amazing. Aaand pretty damn cute. You're lucky I didn't keep her here all to myself." Her head drooped to the side and she smiled. "You two are going to have an amazing future. Trust me, I got the inside track on this stuff."

"Okay, okay," she said, "I've blabbed long enough. Time to get this show on the road." She turned to the other Max and beckoned her over. "I'm going to make this as easy as possible for you, alright? We're gonna squeeze this one," she nudged the other Max with her elbow, "into that head of yours. But it shouldn't be too bad. You'll be back smoochin' Max in no time, don't even sweat it." She looked at the other Max. "How about you? All ready to roll?"

"Yeah," the second Max nodded slowly, shyly glancing at the 'camera,' "I'm...very ready."

"Cool beans," Rachel replied. She went to take the other Max's hand, and was admittedly surprised that she let her without any resistance. Then she exhaled a deep breath. "Alright. One more for old time's sake..." She smiled, bright and beautiful. "Later Chloe. Love ya."

And then they disappeared in an orange haze, soon replaced by a familiar cliff.

It had stormed the night before, and though the sun had dried all but the deepest puddles, the waves were still somewhat restless. It would have been the same beautiful scene the view from the lighthouse always provided were it not for the single fishing boat, no doubt captained by an overly confident rookie, wrestling with the rough waters. So, it was still beautiful, but it was also pretty funny.

"Dumbass," Chloe chuckled as she lit a cigarette. An inquisitive 'hm?' came from below, and she looked down at her lap where Max was resting her head. "Some dude took his boat out and he's not having a great time."

"Oh, I hope he'll be okay," Max responded. She watched the smoke leak from Chloe's mouth and scowled. "I can't believe you started smoking. You're such an idiot."

"How are you just now learning this?" Chloe asked with a big smile. "We've been friends for like...a gazillion years. I thought we'd run out of secrets by now."

"Pfft, okay," Max snickered, "I have plenty of secrets, thank you. I'm a straight up Agatha Christie story."

"Oh?" Chloe straightened her posture, causing Max's head to shift into a position that brought a pink shade to her cheeks. "Well, my interest is piqued. Do tell."

"What makes you think I'd tell you?" Max sat up quickly, a hint of panic in her eyes. "They're called secrets for a reason."

"And I'm called your best friend for a reason," Chloe argued. "Spill it, Maxidoodle. Gimme that juicy gossip."

"Knock it off," Max laughed. She reached over and pulled a strand of blonde hair from the corner of Chloe's mouth and tucked it behind her ear. "You need to bun that mop of yours so the wind doesn't keep doing that. You can't eat hair. It'll stay in your stomach forever." Chloe flashed a smile in thanks, then looked back out at the struggling fishing boat. "So, any other big plans to celebrate you getting your permit?"

"There's this drive-in movie theater a couple towns over," Chloe said, turning to her. "I was thinking maybe we could go? I've never done the drive-in thing before."

"That sounds wild," Max nodded, her eyes wide with excitement, "I am so there."

"Nice!" Chloe patted her on the thigh. "It's a date!"

"Yeah, totally..." Max's eyes lingered on Chloe's hand as it retreated from her leg. Her foot nervously bounced on the ground, sending the faintest vibration through the bench. "Hey, so, uh... Did that Danny guy ever ask you to the Spring Fling?"

"Ugh, yes," Chloe's head lulled backwards and she blew out a particularly aggressive gust of smoke. "I tried to make it so obvious I wasn't interested, dude. Like, he tried to hug me and I shook his fucking hand instead. So awkward." She shook her head and snickered as she flicked the cigarette away. "He put his arm around me and I was like, no, this is not 'just friends' behavior."

"Oh..." Max frowned as she realized she was wringing her hands, then actively forced herself to stop tapping her foot. "So, just like...wondering. Is...letting someone put their head in your lap 'just friends' behavior?"

"Hm?" Chloe cocked her head. "What do you mean?"

"I'm just curious," she responded.

"I would not let him put his head in my lap, no," Chloe laughed.

"You..." Max summoned a bit of courage and scooted closer to her, "let me...do it..."

"Oh." Chloe's eyes were suddenly wide as she became aware of the lessening space between them. "Yeah, I...guess I do." Though her expression was one of uncertainty, she closed the rest of the gap, and almost seemed surprised when their legs touched. "I mean, that's, uh, cool with you, right? My lap's comfy?"

"Super comfy," Max replied. Neither of them seemed to realize how close their faces had gotten.

"Cool," Chloe swallowed, the dryness in her throat causing a quiet, uncomfortable cough, "I mean, great. Very cool. Awesome." Her eyes trailed down from Max's and lingered on the girl's lips. "Did...anyone ask you to the dance?"

"Uh uh," Max shook her head slightly, "I'd really like to go, though. That's part of my secret."

"Do you...want to go with me?" Chloe asked.

"As friends?" Max asked back.

"Or...whatever," Chloe gave a tiny shrug. "You know, I never realized how pretty your eyes are."

"Chloe?" Max's voice was shaking with nerves.

"Yeah?" she responded.

"Can I...kiss you?" Max asked.

"As friends?" Chloe asked back.

"Or...whatever," Max replied, bringing their lips together in bliss.

The orange filter snaked around them, preserving the memory like a photograph.

And then it was a blur, a cacophony of voices and images flicking by like shuffled cards. Over and over, one of the girls admitted their feelings to the other. They shared a thousand first kisses, each one just as special as the last. The season didn't matter. Neither did the location, or their age. All that mattered was the enduring, endless love that framed each and every moment.

The memories quickened, taking shape as an unbreakable ring. It spun faster and faster, burning hot and eventually igniting. Golden and bright, it slipped around Chloe's mind like a halo, bringing with it the weight of infinite worlds.

It began to slow, working its way to a gradual stop. The last few memories passed by, until there was only one left.

But it was different. There was no Max or Chloe. Just the silhouette of a man leaning against a tree. Other outlines appeared, various animals of different shapes and sizes. Then there was a warm, familiar voice.

"I'm proud of you, Chloe," it said. "Please, never question that. You are my pride and joy. I love you so, so much." The man chuckled, soft and quiet. "Time for you to head back, kiddo. Say hi to Max for me."

---

Max gasped as Chloe's eyes opened. The girl sat up, fully awake, and looked at her in disbelief.

"What the...fuck?" she said. "Max? Max!?"

"It's me," Max responded, crushing the girl in a hug. "Oh Chloe, I finally have you back! We did it! We fucking did it! Oh my god!" She sobbed into Chloe's chest, squeezing her as tightly as she could. "Oh my god, thank you, thank you, thank you..."

"I...wait, what? What!?" Chloe buried her face in the crook of Max's neck, rocking her back and forth. "What the hell just happened? What the fuck?"

"I know, I know, baby," Max hushed. "Are you okay? How's your head?"

"Uh, fine, I guess. I'm..." Chloe sat back, still wide-eyed, and shook her head, "is this for real? Max, I'm way fucked right now. Are things really okay?"

"Yes," Max laid her hands on both of Chloe's cheeks and kissed her, "yes, it's over. It's finally over!" She kissed her again, and again. "I know it's a lot to take in. I can explain everything. But you just need to know that it's okay now, and I promise...I fucking promise, I will never let anything happen to you ever again."

"Holy shit," Chloe rested their foreheads together, "I can't believe it." She began to cry, which only made Max cry harder. "You...you went through so much to save me. I had no idea. You never gave up on me."

"I told you I wouldn't," Max replied, kissing away Chloe's tears, "I told you, no matter what, I'd try again and again to save you." She nuzzled her nose against Chloe's. "God, I missed you so much. You are not allowed to leave my sight ever again, you hear me?"

"Okay," Chloe nodded, laughing as she kissed Max again, "I'm completely fine with that."

For some time, they held each other closely, simply reveling in their new found chance at life. They spoke little of what had happened. That could come later. Instead, they chose to focus only on the present. Knowing with certainty that they'd finally overcome everything that threatened their happiness, they were able to breathe without worry. There was no longer a foreboding dread looming above. For the first time since that fateful day in October, they were finally free.

"So...when is it?" Chloe asked after another flurry of kisses.

"If I had to guess," Max held out her arms, drawing attention to her sleeves, "I'd say the night before. I don't...usually sleep with a hoodie on."

"Oh, wait," Chloe softly rubbed a thumb under Max's eye, "there's no bruise. Thank god, I didn't get the chance to headbutt you yet."

"I sorta thought the black eyes made me look badass," Max giggled, "like a warrior."

"You are a warrior," Chloe said seriously, "you don't need any injuries or battle scars to prove that."

"Speaking of," Max looked over her now re-bandaged hand and raised an eyebrow, "I wonder..." She slowly unraveled the bandage and made a quiet, intrigued sound as it fell away. The cuts that had refused to heal over the past several days were now not only closed, but faded scars. It was like she'd suffered the injury years ago. "Huh," she chuckled, "check that out."

"About goddamn time," Chloe said, snatching Max's hand and kissing her palm. She looked at Max with half-lidded eyes. "Where do we stand on the whole 'time heals all wounds' thing? Bullshit or nah?"

"I guess if I've learned anything, it's a little bit of both," Max replied. "This whole fucking town is one big oxymoron."

"No joke," Chloe nodded. Her mouth drew into a tight line as something on Max's floor caught her attention. "Talking about the town... What should we do about that?"

Max turned to see what she was referring to and saw Chloe's backpack propped against the leg of her sofa. Inside were the notes, journal entries, and documents that damned Sean Prescott. They'd used them to intimidate and lure him to the bunker, but now that was obviously unnecessary.

"I'm...not sure," Max said. She knew Sean was alive again, or at least, he probably was, but she wasn't sure from what angle to approach that particular loose thread. Still, she knew something had to be done. "We'll figure it out..." she smiled, "tomorrow. We have one of those now."

"We sure do." Chloe fell back into the sheets and yanked Max down with her. She put her arms around her and tangled their legs together. "Crazy... We can...do things. Have a life again."

"And we don't need to gaslight our friends anymore," Max snickered, kissing the corner of Chloe's mouth. "Things are going to go back to normal."

"I love normal," Chloe responded.

"Hard same," Max whispered, snuggling as close as she could. "Almost as much as I love you."

"God," Chloe laughed as she ran her fingers through Max's hair, "I am seriously the luckiest person to ever live. That's wild." She pecked Max on the nose. "I love you too. My perfect, little hero."

Max looked into Chloe's eyes, still amazed that she was even able to do so. They were so beautiful, just like everything else about her. Entwined, she focused on the feeling of Chloe's body against hers. It was perfect. Everything she could ever want. With a loving sigh, she closed her eyes, and spoke the words she'd fought so hard for:

"I'm...so happy."

---

A/N: Well, fellas, gals, non-binary pals - here it is. The big one.

There's a lot going on here, and if you follow me on Twitter, you may have seen me talk about how I wasn't expecting it to become so dense. That's partially what held it back from release. I was fretting over every detail, trying to make sure it was as good as I could possibly make it. I am very, very proud of the end result.

Like many of the chapters I've posted for this arc, there's a million and ten things I could say about it. That's true now more than ever. Yet, it's difficult to pin down what exactly it is I want to say. My hope is that at least some of you find it to be a suitable climax. I know I can't make everyone happy, and surely there will be some who are underwhelmed, but I think it's pretty darn okay.

Finally reaching this point after so long is a very surreal experience. It's kinda hard to believe. Fuckin' nuts, man.

So, our next chapter is going to be the immediate aftermath and wrap up, then we'll be cruising into some new territory. Ouroboros still has a fair bit of life left in her! I hope you guys enjoy the chapter. I'd love to hear your thoughts, and you can always hit up my Curious Cat if you want to say or ask anything anonymously. Thank you so, so much for reading and for just hanging with the story for so long. It's incredible that I have readers who are so invested. I'm a lucky dude.

See you for the next one! And I hope everyone had a good holiday! Love ya!