Ten or fifteen minutes have passed since the gun had ended the life of Frank Bowers, and secured Max Caulfield in history as a killer. An eighteen year old, regretful and accidental killer, but a killer nonetheless. There's no denying the fact that it was her who pulled the trigger; her who fired the weapon straight into Frank's chest.

And here she still stands at the scene of the crime, along with a very nervous best friend whose main goal right now is to try and get things back to the way they were before.

"Max… you've gotta focus right now, alright? Just look at me – look at my face!" Chloe insists as she tilts Max's head towards her own. The dull, glossy look in the girl's eyes is freaking Chloe out almost as much as the body is, seeing's how distant from reality she appears to be. It's almost as if Max has become trapped in some kind of weird trance.

Chloe had seen the gun in her hands when she had aimed it at Frank beforehand, but neither of them actually thought that there was another bullet still locked and loaded within it. It was a split-second decision to pull the trigger and fire out a round, but no matter what she tries, Max still can't find it within herself to reverse time once again.

Even if it means that Frank is dead, she still can't find it within herself to change things around. And that girl that ran off just a little while ago…

Panicking more by the minute, Chloe tries to shake her friend's shoulders around as the dog growls before sprinting off after trying to wake up his owner. It seems that it knows Frank won't be able to spring up and play catch with him any longer.

"You… you've gotta tell me what to do here!" Chloe encourages grasping her fingers around her beanie in anxiety and scrunching it up in a fist; revealing a large tuft of messy, blue hair on the top of her head. Max can't help but think that she looks like a Final Fantasy character. "If you need me to… fuck, I don't know! I'll find some more bottles, put them in a circle and do some kind of crazy, cult ritual if that's what it takes! I'll do all the voodoo shit you need me to!" she emphasizes as she actually gathers a bottle, two bricks and a piece of the old seafood restaurant sign before placing them around her feet. Sitting cross-legged as she sways her body back and forth, Chloe looks more like she's about to summon a rainstorm than try and get Max's powers to work, but things are dire enough that she's more than willing to try anything.

Shaking her head in grief, Max's bottom lip quivers as she falls to her knees in front of the little shrine that her friend has tried to concoct. "I can't do it…" she murmurs whilst holding her head in her open palms. "I… I'm not strong enough…"

"Max, you have to! There's no other option here – Frank is dead! Do you know how fucked we'll be if this stands?! That girl's gonna run off and tell the cops on the both of us!"

"No, no! You don't understand! I've done this like five times already! My power's drained!"

"What's there to understand, Max?" Chloe demands as she stands up and charges towards the girl; snatching her wrist and pulling it closer towards her. "Just hold your hand out like you usually do, and BAM! Problem solved! Just reverse time and fix all of this! Please!"

Try as she might, Max can't break free of Chloe's firm grasp no matter how much she struggles and squirms out of it. Not that it's going to be any use for the spunky, punk-rocker anyways, since Max indeed has already tried to rewind this whole scenario five times over. Each time has slightly different outcomes than the last, but none of them result in a happy ending. And as harsh as this may seem, in the end, having Frank die… actually is the best (or least shitty) outcome out of all of them.

The one startling difference and defining factor that's gone beyond Max's control is that teenager with the blue and white ball cap; for some strange reason only showing up this time around. Could she be somehow connected to all of this? Max certainly can't believe that it's merely a coincidence that she had showed up when she did, but what part the girl could play is still a big mystery.

Either way though, no matter the time control element, somebody is seriously fucked.

"Chloe, it's not worth it! Just let me go!" Max yells as she is yet again ignored when Chloe forces her to open up her hand and stick it out in the air. The teen nearly takes her shoulder out of her socket in the process, but so many fears about going back to that police station and actually getting booked is driving her paranoia along further and further. Multiple arrests for drug-related charges have been bad enough over the past couple of years, but being an accomplice to a murder is another matter entirely. She has no doubt that that's what'll happen if things don't just magically change.

And Chloe could never live with herself if Max got sent away for the deed, too. This was her idea to come to this stupid "secret lair" in the first place, and it was her idea to steal her stepfather's gun and dick around with it. Regardless if Frank was a major asshole or not, this can't happen, and if there's something that they can actually do to stop it, then Chloe will risk ripping apart the space-time continuum for it to succeed.

As Max tries to bring her hand back around, she accidentally has her hand land right overtop of Chloe's forehead as time comes to a standstill.


…the air feels… different, somehow. They can feel a tingling sensation running up and down the lengths of their spines, but for some reason Chloe and Max both feel disconnected from themselves – almost as if they're not where they're actually supposed to be.

It's a warm feeling crawling through their skin and burying within their bones, but neither of them can place where exactly this force is coming from. The air is foggy around them as it swallows them both into its misty embrace, and yet they can still see each other as if it was a clear, sunny day. Their clothes are the same, and both of them can move their arms and legs around, yet neither of them seem to get anywhere when they try to move. The girls are suspended in mid-air, but for some reason still feel as free as a jail bird.

"…Chloe?" Max breaks the silence as her voice carries over towards her. The pale, smoothness of her skin hasn't diminished one bit as she glances down at her hands, yet when she looks over towards her friend, Max notices that the girl is practically a ghost. "Holy shit… I-I can see right through you! You're completely transparent!"

"Yeah… ditto!" Chloe points back as the fog slowly starts to dissolve into tiny particles that almost look like stardust as they fall to the ground below them. The whole scene would be pretty magical if they actually knew where they were or what the hell is going on. "Max," she remarks as the scene below starts to become more and more visible, "please tell me that this is all a part of your plan somehow…"

Gasping as everything in front of them starts to become clearer and clearer, Max points straight ahead as they end up seeing… themselves. Only this time, Frank has yet to be shot and Max (or at least the image of her) has yet to pull the gun out from behind her back.

"This is what happened to us the first time…" she reveals as Chloe tries to wrap her head around this whole thing. "There's… there's the dog barking at us… You try to take back Racheal's bracelet… and Frank pulls the knife…"

Sure enough, the image of Chloe tries to make a go for Frank's wrist in the exact same fashion as before, and Frank quickly pulls the pocketknife and dangerously flashes it before her eyes.

Up above, the two girls can do absolutely nothing to intervene as they are forced to watch what happens next, even though Max pretty much knows everything that's going on.

"I think these are… my memories…"

"Max, how the hell are we seeing this right now? What's going on?"

Not exactly knowing how to answer that, and really starting to wish that she had read those books and web links that Warren had prescribed to her in full detail, Max points to the visual image of herself as the gun is pulled out… but no bullet is fired this time.

"Well isn't that cute! A little girl pretending to be some bad-ass hero coming in to save the day!" Frank mocks as he tears the gun out of her grasp and shoves her to the dirt. He waves the gun around in front of her face in a taunting position as Chloe tries to come to the rescue… but she is still unaware of the knife in Frank's other hand.

"Leave her alone, you fuck – "

Cut off immediately as the blade is forcefully lodged into the crane of her neck, Chloe convulses as Frank rips her skin open from just below her earlobe and across her neck to the other side; slicing cleanly through to the bone as Max shrieks in aguish. The girl literally chokes on her own blood as she collapses to the ground and bangs her head on one of the smashed beer bottles, as Frank meanwhile quickly steals the money in her pocket and darts away without another word.

"CHLOE! NO, YOU CAN'T DIE!" Max squeals even though she knows that she's far too late to save her by conventional means.

With her friend dying after having been slaughtered like a lamb by Frank's hands, Max uses the only method she has at her disposal. The world around her starts to spin out of control as everything starts to go backwards from what had just happened not even ten seconds ago.

Up above, the real Max and Chloe can't believe what they've just witnessed; the latter even more so.

"…no…"

"The same thing happens twice more if I don't shoot him…" Max remarks guiltily, feeling as though she's shrivelling up into a ball as the scene suddenly changes back to when that mysterious girl had come up before. "Chloe, that… that's her! Over there, the girl from my tornado vision! The one in the hat!"

Still feeling overwhelmed after seeing herself getting sliced open like a can of peaches, Chloe forces herself to tear her eyes away before following the direction Max is pointing towards. Sure enough, the same witness is there this time and is hiding behind the same blue motor boat that they spotted her in before. She's not really doing a whole lot right now, but for some reason, the only time that Max actually pulls the trigger is when she is standing right there watching the whole thing go down. Studying her appearance carefully, Chloe makes a mental note to try and find her before she goes and squeals on them; noting the black, curly locks sticking out the back of her hat, along with the clothes she's wearing as well as those yellow, piercing eyes. Chloe's never seen anything like it before.

As soon as the gun goes off and the startled girl falls backwards a little bit, Chloe and Max are ripped from their little detour and slowly drift back towards reality, with both of them feeling as though they spent far too much time on those spinning rides you'd find at the carnival.

"What… the shit…" Chloe gasps, bumping into Frank's corpse as she tries to back away from Max. "I thought you said you could only control time, Max! Why the hell could I see inside your head just now?!"

Feeling yet another nosebleed coming along, Max tries to stand up and wipe the icky substance with her sleeve. That's the million dollar question for them to answer – clearly there's still more to her power that even she doesn't fully understand, and apparently it starts with her being able to share… time? How could anyone possibly have the ability to show others these kinds of things?

"We need to hide the body…" Chloe mutters after hearing no response from her; grasping onto the man's arms as she struggles to drag Frank off to the side. "Urgh… could use some help over here! He's a lot heavier… than I thought…"

Feeling a little off-put with how easily Chloe's able to suggest something like this, Max shudders before complying and lifting up Frank's legs. The consequences of this could be terribly severe, especially if anyone were to find out about the deed, so the two girls make a silent vow to track down their witness and keep her from blurting out the truth to the wrong person. The time powers are one thing to worry over, but this is another serious matter entirely.

Finding an old shovel that looks as though it'll break almost upon impact, Chloe points over to a spot opposite the train tracks where they could possibly go out and bury him. "Nobody would notice," she mentions with a grimace, still trying to absorb the fact that in another scenario, she is actually dead. The girl's never really been afraid of much aside from losing her friends and family, but Chloe had never really considered the possibility of getting herself killed in any way. Teenagers are usually the ones who think that they are truly invincible.

Today proved that entirely wrong.

"This all so fucked…" Max says with a grunt as they try dragging him across the train tracks. As both of the girls fall short on oxygen, they simply decide to leave the body there until they can dig the hole to place him in. Not much of a funeral for him, but it's better than just leaving him out for the world to see. It's not as if he's going to stand back up and try to eat them or anything. "God damn it… I'm so sorry! No matter what I tried to do, somebody ended up dead! And the only way that you ended up safe was… this."

Stomping the shovel into the dirt with her foot once, Chloe pauses for a moment to collect herself. Indeed, the proof was right in front of her eyes just a little while ago even though neither of them can fully comprehend it. She wouldn't even be alive if it wasn't for Max's heroics, yet the consequence of that choice was the lost life of another. Should she be glad about this? Happy? Satisfied that she gets to live another day while someone else has died?

She can't help but feel dirty about the whole thing, like there's something crawling inside of her that she can't get rid of; an itch that Chloe can't scratch. That's twice now that Max has saved her within the span of just a few weeks. Once in the bathroom, once here. Who knows how long her luck will actually last?

Seemingly out of the blue, Chloe walks over to Max and wraps her arms tightly around her neck; burying her face into her side as she tightens her grip in appreciation. "You've got nothing to apologize for," Chloe mumbles as she rubs tiny circles on Max's back in order to soothe her soul. She's quite a bit taller than the photography fanatic, but right now that size difference feels enormous – like a giant trying to comfort a small, timid and scared mouse. "I don't know what exactly is going on with this thing you have right now… but I do know that you're not a killer, Max. As far as I'm concerned, you're just an uber-awesome, ever day hero."

Feeling slightly more comforted by her words, Max relaxes a little bit in her friend's arms; glad that even though she's in the deepest amount of shit that she's ever experienced, at least they're both in it together. Even after five years of no contact, and so many obstacles in the way that could've prevented them from ever becoming friends again, here they stand against the world – ready to face whatever comes next as a team. At the end of the world, it's Chloe and Max hanging on to the bitter end.

She can't help but feel a lot more respect and affection for Chloe than she has had since they were tweens.

"Listen… we're gonna get through this thing, but we're gonna need a game plan. And I think that means getting out of Arcadia Bay, one way or another," Chloe mentions as they break the contact. "Racheal and I were trying to save up for moving down to California, and it's not as if Frank really needs the money back anymore…" she trails off as Max tries her best to ignore the elephant in the room, still propped on the railway tracks behind them as they try to figure out where to go from here. "But that's what we're going to do – you and I are gonna track Racheal down, gather up enough money and blow this place once and for all. Nothing's gonna stand in our way."

As much as she admires her confidence, Max can't help but experience some mixed feelings about all of this. Blackwell is the very reason she came back to Oregon in the first place, and regardless of what may have transpired, that school is literally her life right now. If she left that all behind and ran away with Chloe, what would happen at home? Would she be able to tell her Mom and Dad where she was going? They likely wouldn't understand, and the second that she left the cops would likely get called to investigate and look for her as well. There are already enough Missing Person posters hung up around Arcadia Bay, and the last thing that Max needs is for her face to be shown on every street corner in the town.

Lord knows she hates being in the spotlight.

But Max doesn't voice any of these inner thoughts or doubts. She can't find the voice within to speak her mind right now, with all of the guilt slowly eating away at her and clouding her judgement. Right now, the one thing that's on her mind is avoiding the police by any means necessary, and if that calls for sneaking away from Oregon with no set destination, then that's what she feels she needs to do. It'd be just like Frank had joked about when he first showed up: Bonnie and Clyde out on the road, fucking shit up and going wherever the wind might take them. Forget the past – the future is whatever they want it to be. Perhaps her photography skills could be useful if they actually ever make it out to California, where she could be a freelance photographer for a newspaper, or maybe even taking pictures for some prestigious magazine.

Hell, she might not even have needed to enter into Mr. Jefferson's photo contest after all. Max could potentially find her own way there with the help of her friend.

"Now come on, let's bury this dude before the flies get at him," says Chloe, not realizing the severity of that statement as she picks the shovel back up and starts digging. The ground is pretty soft from a recent rainstorm earlier this morning, with puddles and the like dotting the landscape in various patches, so the dirt is at least a little bit easier to remove.

While she gets to work on the hole, Max decides that it'd probably be a good idea for her to try and move Frank closer towards them so that he's not in direct visibility. The last thing that they need is somebody else coming over and spotting them burying a dead guy.

Shivering as she clutches onto the man's cold, dead hands, Max stops for a brief moment as she hears some kind of whistling noise coming a ways down the tracks; around the bend and shaking the metal bars as it comes full steam ahead.

WHOO-WHOO!

"Oh my god…" Max whispers, urgently turning back towards Chloe as she hears it too. "Quickly! We need to move him before the train gets here!"

Springing into action, Chloe drops the shovel to the ground as she clutches onto Frank's other arm and pulls backwards as hard as she can. The heels of her boots scrape into the stones surrounding the tracks as the dude barely moves an inch, and neither of them see what's going on until the realization smacks them both in the face – Frank's leg is caught in the tracks, and there's no way to move him.

"Crap! We need to change the train's direction! Or at least stop it somehow!" Max insists as she goes to lift her hand out and try the time power again, yet there's no dice. That time share ability completely zapped her of any energy she may have possessed, and the only thing that's resulting is a massive headache coming on.

Upon seeing that nothing's really changed (or that she just hasn't realized it at all), Chloe comes to the conclusion that they're not going to have enough time to move the body out of the way of the oncoming locomotive. They simply don't have the time or the power to change any of this from happening, so, biting her lip, the teen makes a split-second decision.

Hurriedly sliding Racheal's bracelet off of Frank's wrist, Chloe encourages Max to follow her into the maintenance shed up on the hill.

"Chloe?!" Max wonders aloud; appalled that she's just given up on getting him out. "What are you – "

"Shut up and get inside!" Chloe interrupts as she grabs the girl's wrist again and tries the door. "Damn it, we're locked out! Find something we can pry this open with!"

With the train heading at full speed with no signs of slowing down before reaching its target, Max groans audibly before jogging over to a crowbar and tossing it back to her crazy friend. This entire morning has been nothing but plots, killings and hidings – all of which is really starting to weigh down on their shoulders. All within the span of a couple hours, they've broken more laws than they even knew were in place, yet neither of them for the moment are willing to quit just yet.

Managing to bust open the lock, Chloe murmurs in victory before quickly getting inside and motioning for Max to shut the door behind them. With nothing else to do besides wait for the inevitable, the two girls sit on the dusty floor of the shack and lean their heads back against the metallic walls.

"…there's no way we can stay here after today…" Max admits with a grimace, feeling disgusted with herself as she rubs her eyes tiredly. The killing is still weighing down heavily on her mind, and likely won't be disappearing from her anytime soon, if ever. "Just when things were finally starting to go well… shit just decided to hit the fan all at once…"

Chloe opens her mouth to try and come up with something clever to say, but really this time there's not a whole lot to argue with. She's been through some pretty messed up shenanigans in her life before, especially when it comes to drug money and her friend going missing, but today may have just topped all of that in terms of fuckitude.

"Let's figure all of this out," she replies instead while grabbing her hand tightly and bracing for the impact that's about to occur down below, "together…"

Chloe and Max nearly pass out from disturbance as the train runs Frank over and practically obliterates him; the crushing of flesh and bone underneath the vehicle making it look like a suicide instead of a murder. This goes on for another fifteen seconds or so as the cars flatten the body into a pancake, and by the time that the train disappears, there's literally nothing left of the man to bury. The remnants of the sketchy RV and truck owner are nothing more than splashes of blood, tattered clothing and a detached head that's been crushed and has rolled off to the side.

Max violently vomits in the corner as Chloe holds her head in her hands. One action has resulted in the worst day of their lives thus far.

Perhaps this time power is becoming more of a curse than a blessing after all.


"Clem?" Lee asks in concern, gesturing with his spoon over to his niece's cereal bowl as she blankly stares at the table. "You alright, sweet pea? You've barely touched your breakfast this morning. Is everything… okay?"

It could be so easy to say it… or it could just somehow make things about ten times worse than they'd need to be. Clem remembers her teachers in early grade school always telling the class that if there was ever any trouble in their lives, or if there was a problem that they didn't know how to solve on their own, that they should always go to an adult for guidance. They're experienced, and have lived through the same things that they have beforehand.

But has Lee ever had to deal with something of this magnitude? Clementine's got no idea, although she sincerely doubts that he's ever been through something this serious firsthand. Knowing about and witnessing a crime at eighteen years old isn't exactly what she had pictured would end up happening after just having moved to Arcadia Bay.

"…Lee?"

"Hmm?"

"Have you ever… seen a person do something really, REALLY bad? But you're not sure if it was just an accident or not, so you haven't known whether to say anything about it or not?" she blabs on while practically talking in riddles. It takes a while for Lee to try and put the pieces together, but when he finally does, the man shrugs his shoulders.

"There were a few times growing up where I had caught Ed doing something he wasn't supposed to," Lee recalls, being careful to choose his words carefully in order to not upset her, "but I hardly ever thought that it was that big of a deal. At least, until he was in some kind of danger. Why do you ask?"

Twirling the bits of cereal around in the milk with her spoon, Clementine's eyes droop low as she reluctantly scoops a bunch and starts to eat. "No reason…" she lies while withholding the truth that's been scratching at her mind all night long. It's none of her business really anyways, right? She's got absolutely no desire to have to go and deal with the police again, since Clem had literally just been mixed up in a whole murder investigation previously involving both of her parents. The crooked smile that Carver had given her before they took the bastard away was enough to chill the girl right to the core, and the cops that she dealt with back in Georgia weren't a whole lot better.

One fellow, Rick Grimes, the sheriff's deputy, was nice enough, she supposes, but some of the other guys like Shane Walsh just took one look at hr and practically shoved her aside. She's still a child, she remembered the guy telling Lilly one time. Just look at her! She's scared shitless! How is she going to be any help with the investigation?

That had left a very bad taste in her mouth, and ever since then she's been extremely nervous to even look at police officers, let alone actually talk to them. Besides, she's thoroughly convinced that somehow they'll be able to catch those two girls eventually, seeing's how they didn't look like professional criminals of any sort. How would they possibly be able to cover their tracks?

The only thing that Clem knows right now is that she's the new girl in town, and right now she's a target for being the sole witness to that man's murder. The police force in a small town like this can't be that large, and they definitely wouldn't be able to protect everyone 24/7. In her mind, the best solution would be just to lay low and let this whole mess sort itself out with no interference from her. She doesn't want to already develop a reputation at Blackwell before she's even begun.

Until she can rest assured that her wellbeing and security is well in hand and that there's no threat for her to face, Clementine's going to keep this information close to her chest. Who knows? Maybe this could even be used as a bargaining chip if need be.

"If you say so…" Lee mentions skeptically, his suspicion raised twofold after hearing her response. "Anyways, I've gotta run, kiddo. I might not be home until a bit later tonight, so there's some frozen dinners in the freezer if you'd like. Have a great first day at Blackwell, Clem!"

Smiling slightly in appreciation, Clementine nods before dumping the rest of her bowl down the drain. As exhausted and troubled as she might be from all that's been going down lately, going to Blackwell isn't quite as bothersome as she had figured it would be last night. In fact, you could say that she's actually pretty pumped to be going to the academy. Although it's mainly world-renowned for its photography program, Blackwell is definitely no stranger to other forms of the arts. Drawing here is practically right up her alleyway.

Quickly grabbing her bag and locking the door behind her, Clementine sprints over to the bus with yesterday's events still in the back of her mind, yet oddly she's not nearly as perturbed as she thought she would be. Perhaps it's because she literally just went through something similar and that this has left her largely unfazed to other issues of the same variety, but she can't help but feel a little smug. Not even a week into this place, and she's already got some dirt on people's extracurricular activities. As much of an accident as it may have appeared to be, and the fact that the man looked dangerous as hell, Clementine can't help but feel a little bit advantaged knowing what she does.

Hopefully Max and Chloe will be able to get their just desserts.