From what Max Caulfield knew of Dante's Inferno, there were approximately nine circles of hell. She knew this because she read it on the back of a book during English class. That fact, however, was where her knowledge of "Dante" and his supposed Inferno ended.

She also knew that Dante was full of shit. She had been in hell before and she knew that hell had infinite layers. The book never mentioned fucked up dreamscapes involving your psychotic teacher, or a diner full of everyone you know telling you not to let them die, or a conversation with a little-too-brutal version of yourself who, let's be honest, made some decent points.

At least, she thought they weren't in the book. Again, she never read the thing. But the author was like, super ancient right? Dude couldn't have known what Max knew about hell.

Because Max knew hell is personal. Personal and amorphous. It wasn't a construct, it was a living thing. That evolved and twisted and changed as much as the person did. Sometimes not fire and brimstone. Or psycho people trying to find you. Sometimes it was the quiet of your parents house, eating diner on Christmas Eve.

Max was pretty sure that if she wanted, she could reach out and touch the air. Like just physically place a hand on it, there was so much tension. It was full of the awkwardness of not acknowledging the elephant in the room. The blue whale in the room. The fucking other planet in the room that had it's own observable gravitational pull that astronomers had named Max Caulfield.

Despite that, Max couldn't help but empathize with her parents a little. There were so many things left unsaid that were circling the trio, but how would you even start that line of questioning?

'So sweetie, how is school going? Good grades? Studying? Overcoming the trauma of watching your best friend bleed out in front of your eyes?'

You just don't say that. At least, not if you were a Caulfield. They were a people well versed in the subject of pretending emotionally-charged stuff wasn't there. The loss of a limb just a flesh wound. The loss of a best friends life something you could pay a therapist to see your daughter about.

Your daughter said no, said that she's fine and can deal with it. Said she doesn't need a therapist. And you left it at that. You see her when she comes home for Christmas and if she seems a little fucked up well, maybe it's boy drama. A phase. But don't ask. Don't ever ask.

Dad just scraped at his plate. Mom refilled her glass of wine. The dog let out an annoyed sigh, because dogs are awesome and always call you on your bullshit.

And all at once Max wished she wasn't there. Wished she was back at Blackwell- back with Kate. Kate didn't ignore the wounds she saw Max carrying. She always did what was needed. On a day when Max needed to talk, she fixed up a pot of tea, made sure nobody would knock on the door, sat down attentively and let the girl confide.

And on days when Max needed anything other than words, needed just the comfort of having someone there, she gave the girl exactly that.

Sometimes it was playing the violin as Max tried to pick along on the guitar (one of the two girls was not classically trained). But Kate was kind and thoughtful and would make things manageable for Max

Sometimes it was sketching quietly as Max listened to music or pretended to read a book from English class when she actually just kind of wanted to watch Kate work. Kate was careful and attentive and precise when she drew and Max would daydream. Dream of the girl, bent over the same sketch pad in some rustic cabin upstate. It is morning and there is a fresh pot of tea on the table. Classical music softly plays in the background. The sunlight peeks in throught the window to frame Kate in it's golden light, and Max can't tell if the glow is more from the sun or from Kate herself. And there is a bunny. There is always a bunny.

Max would picture this and close her eyes. Fall asleep to the familiar scratch of pencil on paper, the gentle ebb and flow of Kate's breathing. Sometimes this was more helpful than talking. Just-existing with someone else.

And sometimes, the best of times, what Max needed was laying under the stars on a blanket they had set out on the roof. Their roof. It might as well have been at this point. This had been Max's last night with Kate before leaving Blackwell for the winter break.

It was freezing outside and the wind softly pressed everything in it's path, but the girls didn't care. They had blankets and tea and conversation and their own bodies to keep each other warm. They had been up there, what? Three, four hours?

Sometimes talking, sometimes not talking. Sometimes Max fell asleep mid-sentence and Kate pushed her in the ribs with a hand and sometimes that hand lingered a little longer than what would be considered normal.

"Max, you did it again"

"Mnff-uhm, what?"

"Oh come on, you were just about say something. You said 'Kate, do you think..'" Kate arched an eyebrow, waiting for the girl to finish the rest.

"Ah, Uh-yeah I don't really remember" she tried, failed, to stifle a yawn as she rested her head back on Kate's shoulder.

"Do you think you could maybe talk now Kate? I'm having trouble finishing-uhm, finishing my-my thoughts"

Kate sighed and Max couldn't tell if she was angry or amused or just tired like Max. All the girl knew was that Kate's shoulder felt more comfortable than any of her pillows, and the blanket on rooftop cement seemed more comfortable than a feather bed.

"Max, if I'm the only one talking, you'd just fall asleep"

"...so"

"Well that's not fair"

"Then let's both fall asleep"

"If we did that, I'd miss my flight and you'd miss your bus"

Ugh. When Max thought about going home to Seattle something lodged in her throat and she didn't know what it was. Didn't know if it is there because she thought of home, or because she thought of Kate leaving.

"Could we just like...stay here. In Blackwell?"

"I'm pretty sure they turn the heat off"

"We could keep each other warm"

Kate coughed at that. That wasn't how Max meant it, not exactly anyways. But she was glad Kate took it that way. Max didn't look, but she has a sneaking suspicion the girl was her favorite color of red. Didn't look, but instead pulled out a Polaroid camera and held it up for something she swore she wouldn't do again.

"Max what are you- no! my face is"

"Bright red?" The familiar flash lit up the rooftop as Kate buried her face in a blanket.

"No! It's just the- its uhm"

"Really cold out here?" Max offered.

Sure, teasing Kate was adorable but she wasn't heartless.

"...y-yes. Why did you take a photo anyways. I-I thought you didn't"

"It seemed like the right time" Max shrugged, and Kate pursed her lips for a moment in question, but shortly after lips turned to a beaming smile. And Max could tell Kate felt proud of her for taking such a big step and she didn't really mind because Kate made it feel almost easy.

"Max I don't think you should go to Seattle".

Kate said this and Max was now awake. Now staring at the girl a bit more inquisitively as the girl stared at her own toes wiggling slowly under the blanket.

"And I-I know that's selfish of me, and I know you should spend the holidays with your parents but...I'm just worried"

"What are you worried about?"

Kate looked away from Max

"I don't know-it's just these past couple of weeks you've-well everything has gotten a bit better...with you, and that's great-it's great Max. But..you aren't better"

"You think I don't know that Kate?"

"No, I know you do, it's just. I see the look you get when the wrong song comes on the radio. Or when you think you hear soemthing that isn't there. I see- I see how you look at the color blue. Max I stopped using blue in any of my paintings and I know all the songs to turn off and.."

Kate sighed and hung her head between shoulders

"I'm just- I just don't want anything to happen and not be there for you

"It'll be OK kate. We can text and-and facetime every night, and I'll-"

"Come to Minnesota with me"

"...what"

"Come to Minnesota"

"...Kate I can't"

"Is it a money thing? Because I talked with my parents, and they understood and said they could take some out of my college fund an-"

"No, it's not just that" Max cut her off

"It's-I haven't seen my parents since before the school year. And I owe it to them to be there. And there's no way they'd be ok with.. "

Max said this and wanted it to be true. Wanted anything to be true other than why she really couldn't go to Minnesota. When Kate had asked her it was as if the blood rushed out of her hands and feet for a moment and she couldn't feel them. Couldn't feel anything other than a sort of heart-racing joy over Kate and how special the girl made her feel. And that feeling instantly crashed into guilt. Because maybe for a second she forgot about Chloe.

No, that wasn't true. She would never forget Chloe it was just...when Kate asked her that she couldn't really think of anything for a moment other than her own happiness and that was wrong. Wrong because she didn't really deserve to be happy right? Not completely so. Not the way Kate made her feel happy.

The tea dates and music jams and chilling were one thing. Max needed that. Needed that to help stifle the grief adn the pain. But Minnesota? That just felt like it was taking things a step to far and Max couldn't go there. It wouldn't be right.

So she said it was because of her parents, and that it is what she should do and Kate believed her and they packed up their blanket and returned to their respective rooms and if Max heard Kate sniff when she said goodbye she told herself it was just the cold.

"Max sweetie, are you listening?"

And just like that, Max was back in hell, staring at a plate of dinner with her parents. And she laughed to herself because now she was like a Time Lord in two ways. Only in this second way she got to powerlessly watch the choices she made over and over again in her mind. A time slave perhaps?

"Your father asked if you'd like to open presents in the morning or wait until a little later?"

"Uh-I don't really care, whenever works for you guys"

"Are you ok? You seem a little...out of it"

"I'm good" She took a bite of the ham she had been ignoring for the past however long and her parents both nodded as if that made everything ok. Because you can't eat when you are sad...or something.

Max finished her dinner and asked to be excused and no, she didn't wan't to stay up and play games or watch a movie, she just wanted sleep. So she went up to her room and threw her face in her pillow and let out a long, exhausted scream.

She was full. So full of grief and pain and sorrow and she never really realized how important Kate was to her. Hadn't realized how she needed the girl to act as a sort of engineer over the rupturing valve that was Max Caulfield. Let a little steam out, close it back up. Let a little out, close it back up. Now it was just building up and had no way to escape.

She tucked knees to her chest and began to sob. Without Kate she was alone because nobody knows, they don't understand what happened or is happening and her breathing turned quick and panicked and she can swore she hears a tornado outside her room. The floor shook and the ceiling fan rattled on it's screws and the walls felt like they were closing in on her and she was sure the storm was coming to take her. Sure she would die and maybe she needed t-

Stop

A voice. It wasn't hers. It wasn't even Kates. Maybe it was Chloe's or Rachel's or who the fuck cares, maybe Max was just exhausted. All she knew that at one moment the whole world was about to collapse on her and now it was still, and she was staring at a crumpled Polaroid in her hand of her and Kate Marsh.

And then Max Caulfield did something she swore she wouldn't ever do again.

A familiar flash lit up the rooftop

"No! It's just the- its uhm"

"Yes"

"What?"

"I'll go with you to Minnesota"

Kate looked surprised, and then eyes turned to a more knowing glance. She noticed the anxiousness in Max's eyes and there was the faintest line of red running down the girl's nose

"Max-you...why did you"

"I can't-I can't be without you Kate. I thought I didn't deserve to...go or be happy but I can't..face this on my own. Not yet-I'm afraid what will happen"

Kate said nothing and pulled Max into a tight hug and the girl couldn't breath for a moment, but it was a good moment so she didn't care.

"I told you I was worried" and then Kate let go of Max with a sort of confused look "Or-or did I?"

"Yeah"

"Wow...That's. Uhm. Is this the first time you-"

"Yeah"

And Kate didn't say anything anymore and Max was thankful for that. She laid her head in Kate's lap and stared at the stars as the girl ran fingers through her hair, her chest heavy with a feeling of guilt, but more than anything she didn't feel like she did in Seattle, and that was good.

Kate Marsh knew what heaven was like and heaven was about the little things. She knew this because she would dream of it all the time. When she was sleeping she would dream of it and when she was awake she drew it and nothing could take that from her. Nothing could change her view of it because she knew it.

She knew heaven was personal and twisted and changed as much as the person does. Knew this because when she was a child, heaven was making snow angels on a moonlit night and sipping hot chocolate by the fire in a small cabin that was her own special hideout.

She knew this because now, heaven was being somewhere, anywhere, with Maxine Caulfield. The girl who thought of herself as a dork and a nobody, but Kate saw the truth. She saw it every time blue eyes lit up at the sound of a good song and every time she made a a silly pop-culture joke and the three times on this vacation she snapped a picture.

And now Kate tiptoed across the hall to the room Max was staying in and moved to press her shoulder. Almost regretting waking the girl because Max looked so peaceful sleeping, but this was important.

"Hnn-wha-Kate?"

"Shh" Kate whispered and flipped on Max's lamp

"Where-where...we're in Minnesota?"

Max said this and smiled as if this is the first time she realized that. Kate furrowed her eyebrows but decided it must be the disorientation of waking up in a room that is not yours.

"Put this on, we're going outside" She shoved some snowpants and a large sweater into the girls hands.

"But...but it's cold and I'm so sl-"

"It'll be worth it, I promise" Max nodded and got dressed without any further questioning, and just like that they were off, tiptoeing down the hall and then stairs. Max was slow because she paused to look at everything and again, Kate was as to why but she didn't ask.

They entered the parlor, and Max laughed, actually laughed out loud. Kate tried to tell her to keep her mouth shut and ended up giggling as well. Max had an infectious giggle. The light upstairs turned on and before anyone could yell a question of what was going on Kate took Max's hand and they ran out the door.

Out into the frigid winter night. It was moonlit and the snow was fresh and the world looked untouched. To Kate it looked like something from a snow globe and that brought a smile to her face.

Her and Max's personal snow globe.

They ran and trudged through the fresh snow like children, Max tripping and laughing and Kate helping her back on her feet. The girl was not used to so much snow, didn't have the sure-footedness Kate did from years of experience.

And naturally, just as she has thought this, Kate's boot caught on the ground and she fell on her back and she giggled because of course that happened.

And then max was standing over her. Framed in the moonlight and looking so beautiful because winter nights have a certain shine about them and Maxine Caulfield has certain shine about her and Kate couldn't tell which one was brighter.

Max offered a hand to Kate and Kate smiled mischievously as she took the offered hand and pulled. Pulled the girl into her. They laughed at each other and Kate could see the moonlight reflect off of the snow in Max's eye and she saw something else there too but she told herself it was just her imagination.

Then Kate saw a shift in Max's eyes and knew what that meant could not ignore it. She recognized the recollection of some memory she wasn't a part of and it always signified the end of a moment. Specifically the best moments that made Kate's heart race, moments when she stopped questioning any of her feelings because all she could do was feel.

Max smiled and rolled off of Kate to rest her head on the girls stomach and gaze at the stars.

Kate didn't talk, knew it wasn't the right time to. She just ran fingers through familiar tangles of chestnut hair and smiled, because if this moment wasn't heaven, it was close enough and that was good.