Max stepped into the van, feeling shy and uncertain about what to say next. She looked back behind her, taking comfort as Reese, the closest thing now to a familiar and friendly face, climbed in behind her, and closed the door.

"Um. H-hi there?"

She raised a hand in greeting towards the other two occupants in the back; a tall woman with near-white hair and killer fashion sense, deeply engrossed in looking over web sites on a big computer screen, and a younger looking African-American, hair braided into bleached cornrows, who greeted her with nod and an expression that was just on the gruff side of neutral; appraising her like the rent-a-cops did at the local mall when they thought she might try and shoplift something.

Reese patted her shoulder - and she had to admit it made her a little jumpy when he did that now, after having seen him in action - smiled and announced, "Ladies: this is Max. Max, this is Senior Agent Camilla Davies, whose secret power is..." and at this he clasped his hands together, and with a terrible Mary Poppins impression, said, "...being practically perfect in every way."

Davies suddenly looked up, clearly not realizing the two of them had entered the van until a second ago. She touched the giant screen and cleared away whatever was displayed there, but not before Max got a look at something that read "MYSTERIOUS BIRD DEATHS...". She smiled, eyes just a little too wide with surprise, as she raised a hand in greeting.

"And this," Reese continued, "charming, cuddly teddy bear is Agent Nicole Wright. She's great with kids."

Wright flipped Reese a middle finger, and then turned back to look down at her, narrowing her eyes. Was she scanning her? Was that like her superpower? Max couldn't help but think Wright didn't like whatever it was she saw inside.

Davies cleared her throat loudly and narrowed her eyes at Wright and then Reese. "Children, might I remind you we have an impressionable youth in the van with us? A little more decorum than usual, please." She then turned to her and smiled softly. "You'll have to forgive them; there's a certain amount of informality in our group, given the extreme rarity of our abilities."

Max's head swam for a few seconds, at how screwed up and weird it seemed. Gaining the ability to rewind time should have prepared her for this, but she felt totally out of her league. She mentally grasped for what it was that felt off; maybe it was the realization that was wasn't alone in the world. That she was a member of a community now. Perhaps an exclusive club, maybe the most elite in the world, the way Reese made it sound.

But she wasn't alone. Not so singularly special. This morning at school, she was the summit of the mountain. By the afternoon, she was the new kid. The odd girl out. It felt like starting junior high all over again.

It was both a comfort and a disappointment.

It was Davies who spoke first. She leaned over towards one of the seats built into the side, patted it, and said, "Max, why don't you sit over here, and we'll have a nice chat."

Max did as instructed, looking back over at the other woman as she found a seat just across from hers.

Wow, at least she looks and sounds the superhero part!

Unsure of what to say next, she asked, "Um. So do I get one of those cool jumpsuits, too?"

Davies looked down at Damocles standard field uniform: a tight woven, close-fitting long sleeve shirt with a DI insignia patch - a silver sword pointing down with a red thread running up from the pommel, and the words WE ARE THE THREAD HOLDING BACK THE SWORD OF CHAOS stitched around the periphery- sewn into the shoulder. Worn with canvas cargo pants replete with pockets, and a tunic that looked like it was made out of leather, except there were stiff looking inset plates over what Max guessed were vital areas of the body. Zipped up all the way to the top, with a mandarin collar. While Wright wore hers with sensible boots, Davies' looked much more fashionable, with a good inch or two of heel on them.

It was Wright who answered: "You pay your dues, put in the training, become a field agent, then yeah, you might EARN the right to wear it."

The other woman reached out, patting her hand, "Oh, I'm sure Ms. Caulfield has the mettle to make it. If field work is what she so desires."

Reese glances over sideways, and mutters, "If they even give her a choice..."

Max ignored the remark, and instead asked Davies, "Yeah? What makes you so sure? You able to 'feel' that? Is that one of YOUR powers?

"Obvious deduction. Item one: you've witnessed something greater and more miraculous than almost every other person on this planet will ever hope to see, while at the same time potentially turning everything we know about temporal mechanics on it's head. The average person would have tremendous difficulties handling the revelation. It would clash with their notions of religion, reality, the order of the universe, and so on. Instead of going mad, or fearing yourself demon possessed, you've embraced it with relative grace and elan"

She began ticking off her fingers. "Item two: your natural instincts from the start have been to help people where you can. Granted, we've not be witness to it, but if you did indeed Emerge through the act of saving your friend's father...well. That sort of thing sets a tone, doesn't it? Fixes you onto a particular path. Item three: In less than an hour, it's been revealed to you that you're not alone in this brave new world and that you'll need to leave home in short order. Maybe it doesn't seem so unusual to you, but I don't think you realize how mentally unprepared most people are when their powers first develop. People a good deal older than you."

"Wait? This isn't like...a puberty thing? Don't most of your..er...our kind get their powers when they're kids?"

"Ah. Well. There is SOME thinking that puberty does plays a role in the process. But you're one of the youngest recorded Emergents in history, I believe. I think the previous record-holder was fourteen?"

Great. What am I? A freak in a world of freaks?

Reese laughed. "Davies, don't act modest. We all know YOU were the 'previous record holder'"

Max glanced curiously up to the British woman; the two shared a small, private smile before Davies spoke.

"The point being: you've already demonstrated that you're adaptable, open minded, and empathetic. A cut above your average class of human being, if I do say so myself."

Wright rolled her eyes slowly, and shook her head. "Better watch out, girl. Lady Whiteness is just as liable to put you under a microscope, soon as she's done placing you on that pedestal."

At this Davies actually blushed a little. "Ehem. Well..."

Max worried at her bottom lip, gripped the edge of her seat and said, "Yeah. Well um...I don't feel all that adaptable at the moment. Honestly, I think I'm just too freaked out to...um." She knitted her brow. "To freak out? Does that make sense?"

"Perfectly!" Reese answered. Then raised a finger and added, "I remember when I Emerged, must have taken me a good week before I spontaneously fell to the ground, curled up in a fetal ball, with a panic attack-induced jag of hyperventilating and crying. Now I'm doing much better these days."

Wright elbowed him. "What are you talking about. You did that same thing last week!"

Rolling with the jab, he tilted his head, "That was for an entirely different reason."

Max smiled to herself, just a tiny bit. At least these guys all seemed to get along. Maybe it'd be better, being the kid in the room full of adults.

Yeah, no weird bullshit, no cliques, no stupid namecalling, no one acting like assholes and bullies. Huh, maybe this'll work out after all.

What few sparks of optimism she felt inside quickly died out as she realized something.

"Oh...oh...oh shit! My dream! Is Arcadia Bay going to be okay? Are things getting worse now? I don't...I don't want anyone getting hurt over me. I mean God...those poor whales."

Davies reached out, and took her hand, gave it a reassuring squeeze. "Max. We've got your back now. I'm not going to feed you a line. I think a girl who's peered this far past the surface of the looking glass can handle the truth. Yes, something IS building up, no doubt related to your Emergence. It was rather strong, and given that you have at least some control over one of the most foundational forces of the universe, Reality is having far more trouble than usual adapting. But we have experience tracking this sort of thing. Dealing with it. We're almost entirely certain that if we get you out of here in the next few hours, at the very least it will minimize the extent of the changes happening in Arcadia Bay. I promise you, Homeland Security has a close eye on your hometown now. We're going to make sure nothing bad happens to it, but if something does, we'll be ready to jump in and help all your friends and family weather it out."

"I...I guess it was a really good thing you found me then, huh?"

"Well yes, there is a reason why we've spent decades looking out for people like us. Birth is always messy and painful."

Max looked down, scuffed a shoe against the floor, and murmured, "Huh. Man...wait until I tell Chloe about this. Oh! Oh shit! I was supposed to meet her at the Two Whales! Can I-I mean, can I just text her, or call her, let her know I'm going to be okay?"

The three grown-ups looked across from each other, holding one of those conversations made up almost entirely of facial expressions, knowing looks, and soft humming noises.

"Max...this is a delicate situation. The existence of Specials has always been classified as a state secret. This isn't something you can tell her, I'm afraid. Not ever. You can tell her you'll have to miss your meeting, that's about it for now."

"Okay. But about my parents? I mean, you HAVE to tell them something. I'm still a kid."

"True. And there's a specific procedure for that situation. You'll find out more about it as soon as we get to your house."

Max nodded, and pulled her phone out, thumbing away at the fold out keyboard. Wright pointedly looked over her shoulder, prompting her to reflexively shy away for a moment, before relenting with a grumble.

maxthemad: Che? uh. gotta bail. something came up.

che-burger: oh? u alright?

maxthemad: ...cramps.

che-burger: aw. our little max is growing up!

maxthemad: ha ha. anyhow. sorry, gotta lie down. talk later?

che-burger: sure. see u tomorrow?

Max felt a tight constriction in her belly, wending its way up to her throat over what she had to write next.

maxthemad: yeah. u bet. see yus.

che-burger: feel better!

She sighed; she'd never been so terse with Chloe before, but it was clear the others weren't going to be happy with her holding a ten minute texting gabfest. She then glared over at Reese. "I'm not forgiving you for that, by the way"

He looked confused for a moment, "About what?" Then quickly caught the drift. "Oh. Right. Sorry, I panicked. On the other hand, you have to admit it's the kind of excuse no one goes after with follow up questions."

Davies glances out through the small windowed partition that separated the main body of the van from the driver's cab.

"Odd. We seem to be taking a detour."

She thumbed an intercom on the side of the wall.

"Tim? I thought we were going straight away to the Caulfields?"

A couple seconds later, an answer crackled over the speaker. "Yeah uh...sorry bosslady. Director Martinet wanted a meeting with her first, before we head over."

Max gave a nervous swallow, looked first to Reese, and then to Davies. "Uh...something wrong?"

Davies frowned. "Hmmm. It's not standard protocol for the Director to get personally involved in these sorts of missions. On the other hand, Max, your Emergence is rather unprecedented." She paused, then gave her a warm, reassuring smile. "I wouldn't worry, though." She leaned in and stage whispered, "He's rather new at the job. This is probably his way of demonstrating to the leadership upstairs that he's on top of things."

"Oh? Is he - uh - he a nice guy?"

"He seems to be living up to his name, so far." Reese muttered.

Max blinked a couple of times. "Oh." She had no idea what he meant by that.

A few minutes later, the van came to a stop. The driver's voice crackled to life over the intercom.

"The Director says he wants to meet with the girl in private."

Max felt the weight in her stomach grow by another fifty pounds. Reaching out, Davies squeezed her hand with gentle, maternal affection.

"It's all right, Max. Just remember: you've done nothing wrong. You're not in trouble. This is just a recruitment. This is also the first Emergence Martinet's ever had to deal with; I'm certain he's just trying to be, how shall I say this? Proactively hands on?"

Rising from her seat, Max nodded, still not feeling all that reassured. She carefully picked her way through the van, opening the door, and hopping out. She shielded her eyes for a moment, letting them adjust to the change in light, before she quickly realized where she was: the old lighthouse, overlooking the entire sweep of the bay. She glanced about, noting all the men in black suits and extra vehicles surrounding the area, cutting off the public from easy access. Not that many people usually came up this way at all, let alone at this hour.

All this just because some government bigwig wants to talk to me? Gleesh!

The only obvious approach was to the bench overlooking the view and as she made her way over, an older, balding man in a grey suit rose up from it, turning to regard her.

"Well, hello young lady. You must be Max Caulfield. It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance." The way he spoke and held himself, the ill-at-ease smile screamed out that he didn't really know how to deal with teenagers. And maybe not kids in general. Still Max gave him points for trying at least, and gently shook his hand when it was offered.

"H-hello, sir."

She also figured that if this guy was going to be in charge of whatever program was recruiting her, it didn't hurt to make a good impression.

"My name is Paul Martinet. I'm the director of the central branch of the Specials Oversight and Administration Project."

She didn't mean to, it just sort of slipped out, because she finally made the connection.

"Soap? You guys are called soap?" Her face reddened when she realized too late what she'd said out loud.

He gave a forced chuckle at this. "A relic of a simpler time. While there are several sub-branches that fall under the heading, most of the organization's function is executed by the Damocles Initiative."

He motioned to the bench, "Have a seat, please. I just wanted to take a few minutes to talk to you. Prepare you for some of the remarkable changes that are going to happen in your life."

She sat down as requested, and gazed over the town she'd called home for the past thirteen years. It had never seemer as pretty and as inviting as it did this moment.

Now that I'm being rushed out...

Still, she could see there were things askew; the whale carcases were easy to spot. But there were other things too. She couldn't quite put her finger on it, but as she narrowed her eyes, focused her attention, she could feel a kind of...wrongness. Not bad or evil, more like...a windowpane that had been smashed. And all the pieces were mostly fitting back together, but not quite.

"Max?", Martinet called out.

"S-sorry. I just...still adjusting to it all. Haven't been up here in a few weeks. Chloe and me, we like to ride our bikes up here, and just pretend that..."

She stopped herself short, and glanced over to Martinet. "Never mind."

He nodded once. "I realize this is a lot to take in. Your understanding of the world, and your place in it has been radically altered, in ways you haven't even had a chance to fully process yet. I'm here, Max, because your Emergence is rather startling. Unprecedented, from what I'm led to believe. Did Agent Davies and the others explain to you the importance of bringing you into our custody as soon as possible?"

Max stiffened. The phrase "into custody immediately set alarm bells off in her brain.

"She-she didn't tell me all the science stuff behind it. Just that the way I got my powers started making weird things happen around town. Like the snow flurry, and then the-the whales." She pointed out a finger. "I can see other things too. Like the birds. I can't say how, but I just know they're flying around in weird patterns, like they're really confused about something. And she said that if I got out of town, it would probably stop worse things from happening. Things like..."

She gasped, as recognition hit her. "Oh shit."

"Max?"

"I-I had a dream, the day I went back in time and saved Chloe's dad. A nightmare. I remember now, I was actually here, on this spot, watching a giant tornado destroy the entire town."

He tried to rest a reassuring hand on her shoulder. Max couldn't help but notice that he wasn't comfortable with the gesture, not the way the others were.

"I promise you, Max; we're here to help. We're going to do everything in our power to prevent this from happening, or mitigate the worst of it, if something does come about. But you're right; the sooner we get you away from here, the less likely it is this dream - perhaps a vision of the future? - will come to pass."

"Thank you." she breathed out. "Not really happy, having to leave home like this, but I can't let anything bad happen to Arcadia Bay."

"I'm glad you understand what's at stake, Max. That's why I brought you here. I could try to explain how important you and your abilities could be...to us. To your country, and ultimately, to the world. But I know how it is with most people. A country is just words and pictures in a book. But home is..." At this, Martinet spread out his arm towards the bay. "At the end of the day, this is what it's all about. Keeping your home safe."

Max nodded slowly.

"But Max...I'm afraid we also need to briefly discuss more serious issues." He shifted slightly, turning his head back to fix his gaze directly upon her. "You're young. Younger than anyone like you we've ever discovered. And to be blunt, based on what we know so far, you're potentially quite powerful. Until we truly understand the full extent of your powers, how they can be developed, what possible threat they may hold to the world, and to yourself. Ah..." The Director was clearly trying to find a way to sugar coat what was coming next.

"I'm afraid we're going to have to significantly restrict your comings and goings, at least in the beginning. In ways that you might consider excessive. Now understand, this is as much for your protection as everyone else's. There are others out there, hostile governments, terrorist organizations, anarchists; all of them would move heaven and hell to get a hold of you, if they ever discovered your existence."

The dread went from just creeping to full on boiling in her stomach, threatening to rise up and choke her.

"Th-that seems really crazy...I mean. It's just a few minutes back in time. I don't feel THAT powerful...I can't be..." She was determined not to burst out in tears in front of this man, but her head was spinning. Her voice broke, just a little, as she asked. "Are you - am I going to be a prisoner?"

Martinet smiled, or tried to. Max couldn't help but think that it lacked the sort of comfort or warmth that Reese or Davies had put into their own gestures, but maybe that was because this was the guy making her out to be the most dangerous girl in the world!

"Prisoner? That's too strong a term for it. Protective custody I think best describes the situation. Again Max, please believe me: these are just temporary measures. Once we assess the full measure of your abilities, where they'll go, and the situation has cooled down, I'm certain the need for these strictures will be greatly diminished."

Staring out numbly into the sea, she whispered out, "Oh. O-okay."

It's...it's going to be okay. Of course they're scared, you went back in time and changed the past! Just...just show them there's nothing to be afraid of, that you're not a threat, and everything will be fine. Calm down Max. This is just...this isn't how it's always going to be.

Right?

"But-but my parents! And my friends, and school and everyone..."

He held up a hand to stop her. "We're already crafting a cover story: You've received a fully paid scholarship to a prestigious school for gifted children: The Zion Academy. Your parents have decided to send you as soon as possible, in order to have you catch up on missed work. Though you'll not be able to communicate with your friends at first, in due time, I'm sure letters can be sent. After careful screening of course. Your access to the Internet and social media will have to be curtailed for the time being, but if anyone is curious, they'll eventually figure that you've got your head buried in your books."

Again, Max could only nod, staring straight ahead. A growing sense of detachment started to overtake her.

Maybe THIS is the dream. Maybe THIS is where I wake up.

"Gonna be tough on my folks, having to keep this secret too." she remarked, with a nervous laugh.

Martinet said nothing at first. The way he refused to look her in the eye for a good ten seconds told her everything she needed to know about what was coming next.

"We're going to have to keep your parents in the dark as well, Max. For the purposes of national security. One small misstep, one careless word, and they could put themselves in as much danger as you. I'm afraid that extraordinary measures will need to be taken."

Max felt the blood drain her face. She as a smart girl. She didn't have to ask the question, how they would pull that off. She met Reese. Seen what he could do to people.

The tears finally fell again.

"My parents..." she moaned, in a tiny, plaintive voice. "P-please. Don't hurt them. Okay? Not over this."

"Max! Certainly, we wouldn't...we're not monsters! Nothing we'd do would be harmful. Just remember, we're the good guys. But sometimes that means making hard sacrifices, tough, terrible-seeming choices. Powers like yours come with tremendous responsibilities. I'm sorry that you've been pulled into this at such a young age. It's not fair, but we'll get you through this difficult transition."

Please wake up. Please wake UP!

She wiped her eyes, and could barely move her head to give one final nod.

"Now that we've got that settled, there's no point in delaying things any further. I'm glad we had this talk; I'm sure we'll have more in the days to come. Welcome to the Damocles Initiative, Max. Go ahead and get back into the van you came in. Could you please do me a favor and send Agent Reese out to talk to me?"

"Right. Sure." she said, in a flat tone of voice.

She was at least able to pride herself in waiting until the van drove out of sight before bursting completely into tears.

A minute later, Reese walked up, holding up a hand towards the other man.

"You wanted to see me, Director?"

Martinet reached into his jacket pocket, pulling out a sheaf of papers, and handing them over for Reese to peruse.

"What's this?"

"Max's cover story. Along with your orders on how to proceed with the implantation protocol for her parents."

Reese blanched, and snagged the docket, perhaps more brusquely than intended, scanning it incredulously. "Whoa. Wait. What? Hold on, hold on, with all due respect, sir. I know she's young, but we've already got a protocol in place for handling legal minors; we've always had the parents or guardians sign the appropriate state secret NDA's..."

"Are you questioning your orders, Agent?"

"I...well. It's just they've always been enough in the past, and..."

Martinet interrupted again, "You'll note a fully authorized Constitutionality Waiver has been attached. Secretary Chertoff hasn't officially countersigned it yet, but I have complete confidence that we'll have that in another hour or two."

"Sir, I understand this is Omega-Green, and the Wayden Amendment, and everything. I can even understand altering Max's parent's memories, but that's a huge change. Occam's razor is a funny thing, the bigger the whopper, the more the mind has trouble accepting the new memories on a long term basis. They're going to start asking questions much sooner than later."

"And you'll note that the protocol authorizes you to perform periodic maintenance and reinforcement of the appropriate memories, as required."

Reese swallowed, licked his lips, and started to shake his head. "Sir. Director, you've read my file, you must have. You must know how my powers work. The risks in what you're asking. This is..." he skimmed through the papers to double check, "...is a full five year plan. I mean...Christ, two, three years, their brains could be swiss cheese. At least where Max is concerned. Maybe well beyond that."

"But their lives won't be in any actual danger?"

"Well...well no. I mean, probably not, not their actual health, but..."

"Then let me ask you again: are you refusing a direct order, Agent Reese?"

Turning his head again, wincing as if he was swallowing something particularly nasty, he answered through gritted teeth. "No. I suppose it'll be safe enough to start. But sir, I think you should know: I fully intend to file a complaint. I think this course of action is exceptionally risky. Not to mention the long term legal ramifications, as well as the ethics of deploying me against civilians.

"It wouldn't be the first time."

Trying not to sputter, Reese answered, "Well-bu-yeah-ah-that. That was for government scientists trying to sell out state secrets to the highest bidder, or people who were clear and present dangers to the United States! Not...not parents of some thirteen year old girl! Not American citizens who haven't committed any crime!"

"Agent, I need you to understand: we may be looking at the most dangerous development in global stability since the start of the Cold War. Certainly, I don't want to hurt them, but if the Caulfields end up as unfortunate casualties in keeping this situation locked down and secured...as regrettable as that would be, the cost would be acceptable. I don't need you to agree with that, you're not sitting at the top, making the big decisions. I simply need you to carry out orders."

With that, Martinet stood and walked past him, silently declaring the conversation over.

Max stared numbly out, clutching the duffle bag filled with her clothes, books, and a small handful of personal items as if it were her entire world. Davies sat quietly next to her on the van, as they drove off into the night.

Two hours. That's all the time she had at her house. Two crazy, chaotic hours, where Martinet and Davies and Reese did their best to explain to situation to her parents. It started off easy enough; her parents barely understood what was going on. It was difficult for Max to casually demonstrate what she could do, and were it not for the presence of multiple secret government agents in their living room, her Mom and Dad would probably have called it all clever trickery.

She was sent off to her room, to pack, or at least be out of obvious earshot for what was coming. Raised voices, legal threats, the occasional pleading. Vanessa and Ryan Caulfield were not about to give up their only daughter to total strangers, not without a fight. Max kept trying to tell herself that this was for everyone's safety, their protection. That powers like hers came with responsibility, just like everyone had been telling her to believe, all day.

But all she knew in her heart of hearts is that she didn't want this. She didn't want to leave Arcadia Bay. And as initially cool and exciting as it seemed to leave school, and have powers, and maybe go off and help people, the reality of it?

It was horrible!

She just wanted it to be over. Take it all back, make it the way that it was before.

Except...

...except 'the way it was before' meant letting William die. Stripping Chloe's father's away from her. And there was no way she could do that, even if it meant being taken away from her own mom and dad.

Still, she was tempted. She hated that she was tempted. She hated more that she actually gave into that temptation, tried to rewind back as soon as she stepped out of the van, see if she could give herself five minutes to warn her parents something terrible was coming, and then run away. To keep running and keep rewinding...

But her powers still weren't working. She'd started suspecting that there was more to it than just anxiety. That she'd been drugged with something somehow, or the agents some kind of device 'jamming' her time rewinding.

As she grabbed fistfuls of clothes and shoved them into the military duffle she'd been provided, she still wondered if she could run off to Chloe's house, find the picture from before, somehow jump back into the past, and undo it all. Whether that would cancel everything out.

Plotted how to get away with it.

Maybe...maybe that's what I'm supposed to do?

She had to say goodbye, at least. Tell Chloe she was leaving. They left her with her cell phone, but that was going to be taken away from her as soon as she left the house; Wright made sure to tell her that much, personally.

Maybe she could send out an SOS. 'Chloe! Get help!'.

Yeah. Get help. From where? The government? What kind of friend would she be, if she put Chloe's life in danger? Would they do to her what they were going to do to her parents?

maxthemad: chloe?

che-burger: hey maxi pad! hows the flow?

maxthemad: ha. um. i just want you to know...im leaving arcadia bay.

che-burger: lol! feeling that crampy huh?

maxmad: chloe

maxmad: im serious. deadly.

che-burger: WTF? the hell?! whats happening?!

maxthemad: i guess my parents are sending me to this new school in Seattle. full scholarship, so they didn't say no. but they have to send me off tonight, so I can catch up and stuff, with all the other kids there. you know, classes and junk. found out as soon as i walked thru the door.

che-burger: wait. wait! okay, swear this isn't some stupid joke!

maxthemad: chloe...I swear.

che-burger: do you want to go? because you so sound like you dont, for cereal!

maxthemad: it means a lot to them chloe. i want to make them happy. and its a really good school.

che-burger: but we were going to go to blackwell together! cant I at least see you or call you before you leave? u cant just leave like this! i'm your best fucking friend, max!

The voices downstairs grew in pitch and anger. There was a crash, like something breaking, and Max turned to her closed bedroom door, shuddering in fear.

Then all was quiet.

maxthemad: i gotta go. My folks are packing up the car and calling me now.

maxthemad: i'm so sorry!

che-burger: max?

che-burger: MAX?!

che-burger: what the fuck!? call me! call me please!

She squeezed a few tears from her eyes, closed up the phone, then ran downstairs, packed bag in hand; not even thinking to take one last look around her room, or any of the other favorite things or places she might never see again, or at least not see for a long while.

She didn't even get the pat the dog goodbye.

Max glanced over to the knot of people gathered in the center of the living room. Her mother and father, smiling so brightly. Reese's hands on their shoulders, a sad, guilty expression on his face as he regarded her.

Her mom was the first to speak.

"Max! We're so proud of you. So proud!"

Her father's smile was so wide.

"Way to go, kiddo! I know it probably seems scary, going off to a boarding school, but this place sounds top notch. Your mother and I know you're going to do great things there!"

Martinet turned slightly, glancing over at her direction.

"Max? Why don't you say goodbye to your parents. I'm afraid we're on a tight schedule here."

She drifted over, trying her best to keep a brave smile on her face, tears out of her eyes. It felt like being in the worst sort of horror movie. Arrayed against an enemy so powerful, so terrible, even her parents couldn't protect her from it.

An enemy she herself brought down upon them.

She held them each so tightly. Thought about begging them to not let her go. That she changed her mind, wanted to stay home. Maybe if she made things too difficult for Martinet and the others to maintain the cover story, they'd just leave and never come back. Leave her alone forever.

But she didn't resist. She might've only been thirteen, but she was smart enough to know the alternative was far, far worse than what she was enduring right now.

It's only for a little while. Once they see I'm not at threat, not a problem, it'll be alright!

She had to make herself believe that; anything else was too difficult to accept.

Still, she couldn't let herself go without a little show of resistance. When it came time to hand over her cellphone in the van, Wright held out her hand expectantly. Max quickly keyed in the factory reset code, and then plopped it into the outstretched palm.

Good luck going through my private texts now!

Max knew it was a futile, even childish gesture. But she couldn't help but demonstrate at least some token of dissent. That she was far from fucking happy with this arrangement.

They drove the entire six hours from Arcadia Bay to Seattle. Max didn't say a word, except to occasionally grunt, or nod, say yes, or no. Yes, she was fine. No, she wasn't hungry. No, she didn't need to use the bathroom. No, she still didn't need to use the bathroom. Okay, now she needed to use the bathroom. Fine, she'll eat your stupid french fries if it means so much to you!

It barely registered in her brain, when Davies reassured her that the readings she was getting from the sensor team left behind in Arcadia Bay were already reporting a measurable drop in the 'chaos field index', whatever that was supposed to be. Just that it made the chances of a tornado coming down and destroying everything a lot less likely, now.

You're a hero now, Max. You just saved everyone in Arcadia Bay.

From yourself.

A/N: Well, it's nine minutes past midnight, so that means Happy Swan Saturday!

My many thanks as always to the ever-lovely Corentin IV for her insightful editorial advice and polish.

O.M.G. Guys, I just wrote the CUTEST flashback scene last night where Max and Chloe meet as little kids. I'm sad I probably won't publish the chapter that's a part of until the end of September-beginning of October. Next week starts a five chapter arc going over the next five years for Max and Chloe.

I'd tell you everything works out great, but then it'd be a real short story, wouldn't it?

Have a great rest of the weekend, kids!