AN: I feel like a horrible person. Writing this fic is totally going to destroy my shipper heart. But I have to keep going and get to the (sort of, because after something like this things can't be all fluffy and perfect) happy ending.

The blue haired girl hadn't even noticed her legs giving out under her until she was slowly crawling closer towards the pictures. Trembling she reached for them and looked at them again. "Oh God no…." She sobbed, her hand covering her mouth as she struggled to keep down what little she had eaten that day.

It had to be some kind of joke. A horrible, sick, disgusting joke. It couldn't have possibly be real, because what kind of sick fuck would do something like this for real?

It couldn't be real. Because something like this couldn't have happened to her of all people…

Not to Max… Never to Max.

Especially not the Max she saw in the pictures. This was her Max… Her sweet thirteen year old best friend. She couldn't be older than fourteen… Chloe cried in pain, something breaking inside her as she forced herself to look at the other pictures….

No… What kind of world did this? Who did this? She watched through the images as Max became thinner, her terrified eyes became duller, and any trace of emotion disappeared with time… She saw how her best friend became older and more broken with each picture.

Bruises and cuts usually covering her body… and as she got older she no longer wore clothes… No. No Fuck no. It was to much… Chloe barely had time to move to the side before she emptied her stomach onto the grass.

On the ground a picture showed her, broken, bleeding friend, chained to a table, being… oh God… raped by a man whose face couldn't be seen.

–-

When Joyce got home after a long shift, she found the front door open wide. Her eyes narrowed and she prepared herself for another fight with her daughter after she lectured her about leaving the door open again.

Once she entered the house, however, she froze eyes widening in terror at the sight of the destruction inside. The entrance was trashed and she feared the worst. "CHLOE! " She called out her daughter's name in fear.

Hearing a whimper she rushed into the living room, gasping when she saw Chloe curled up on the floor, clutching at her chest in obvious pain. "Chloe!" The blonde rushed to her child's side, checking her for injuries to explain the pain on her daughter's face, in her eyes. "Chloe, Chloe what happened?"

"Oh God." Chloe threw herself into her mother's arms, sobbing into her chest and clinging to her the way she hadn't in years. "God… Mom, it hurts so much."

"What hurts honey? What's wrong?" Joyce asked desperate for an answer. Needing to know the cause of her daughter's pain.

"It's my fault. I should have known. I should have… " The blue haired girl trembled in Joyce's arms. "I should have known she'd never abandoned me. I could have done something… to help her.

"Her?" Joyce shook her head in confusion. What was she talking about? Unless… Oh dear.. It couldn't possibly be… "Sweetheart… Is it… Did something happen to Rachel?" But her words only made Chloe sob harder.

Shaking her head in denial the teenager looked at her mother and answered with an anguished voice. "Max…it's Max." And Joyce froze.

Her thoughts going to a small, freckled girl who was still like another daughter to her despite the years without any form of communication. And who, she knew, still held a big part of Chloe's heart. "Max? Max Caufield?" What had happened to make Chloe react like this? "Chloe… What happened?"

Her daughter cried harder and pulled away. She reached for a box Joyce hadn't noticed before and handed it to Joyce with shaking hands.

–-

When David arrived home, he immediately knew something was wrong. The front door was wide open and as he entered the house his face paled at the mess… He reached for the gun he kept hidden in his boot moved forward slowly intent on searching the house and praying for his wife's safety.

The moment he entered the living room and immediately lowered his weapon. Sitting on the couch was Joyce, tormented eyes and wet cheeks. His sleeping step daughter's head on her lap as she gently ran her fingers through soft blue hair.

"Joyce? "

She looked at him and he felt his heart clench at the pain in her eyes. "David… I… We need your help."