By the time they were all cleaned up and ready to leave the house, Max was feeling much more herself.

Nights were the worst. When she was asleep, her guard was down, and her subconscious had free reign to subject her to its unimaginable horrors, to throw her fears and doubts in her face. Mornings were bad as well, if not quite as intense. She was usually still shaken from nightmares, and generally hadn't managed to entirely shake off the grogginess and unreality that accompanied waking.

If she could make it to the light of day, things tended to improve. It was easier to think when she didn't feel suffocated by darkness.

The storm had been so dark.

But the sun had risen, and Chloe was holding her hand, and her heart was beating fast from the electricity of her kisses. She could breathe.

"So what now, hippie?" Chloe asked as she fixed her beanie onto her head, letting go of Max's hand to bounce over the the bathroom, where she took a moment to look in the mirror and pluck at a strand of blue hair with her fingers.

Max watched her, leaning on the wall with a fond smile on her face. "Joyce invited us to breakfast at the Two Whales, after I flipped out and made a mess in front of her. It would probably make her happy if we showed up." She sighed. It wasn't the first time Joyce had seen her like that, but it didn't get any less embarrassing through repetition. That was almost the worst part. She wanted Joyce to respect her, not to think of her as a kid who needed babysitting and taking care of.

That wasn't fair. Joyce did respect her. Saw her as a kind of surrogate child, sure, but she had done too much for Max for her to sit here doubting her motivations.

"Cool with me. Warren gonna be there?"

Max shrugged, then remembered that Chloe couldn't actually see her where she was standing. "Dunno. I know he's been helping out there a lot lately, but I don't know if he's there now."

Chloe glanced over, seemingly giving up on her hair and filling the sink with water. "You wanna text him and see?"

Max shook her head. "If he's there, we'll see him. If he's not, he's probably asleep, and the poor guy has been sleeping so bad ever since the..." Her breath caught in her chest. "The storm. A text might wake him up."

"How is he?" Chloe asked, her voice a little more somber. "I only see him the one time a week, and it's hard to get a read on him when he's in full storyteller mode."

Not an easy question to answer. "Honestly? I don't know. He seems okay most of the time, making dumb jokes about it and stuff. But sometimes, when he thinks no one's looking, he gets this look in his eyes like he hasn't slept in months, and I mean, can you blame him?" Max shuddered, as Chloe splashed some water on her face. "Brooke says that- I dunno. I probably shouldn't go gossiping. I don't want to ruin the poor kid's pride, you know?"

"I wouldn't wish that on anyone," Chloe said as she towelled off. "Well, okay. Maybe one or two people. But Warren's a good guy. Kind of a doof, you know, but a good guy."

"He's lucky he's got Brooke. She takes good care of him, I think." He'd spent a long time obviously pining over Max, but he'd stepped aside with good grace when he'd realized where Max's true affections lay. Brooke the tech junkie had been waiting in the wings, and after the storm, she'd spent more time than anyone with him in the hospital.

They made a good couple, Max thought. Brooke was reserved and quiet most of the time, and Warren lacked just enough shame to make sure she got out and about more than she had been previously. They'd had to miss the infamous drive-in movie night, unfortunately, but they'd more than made up the time lost.

Not everything that had come from the storm was bad. Most of it was - all the injuries and deaths and damage which had been caused in those few hours - but it was important to remember that it wasn't all doom and gloom.

It was all Max's fault, after all.

No. She wasn't going to go down that road. She was going to go out with Chloe and have fun. Max wasn't going to ruin it with her stupid issues.

She must have gotten that look in her eye again, because Chloe came padding up to her, her face concerned. Solemnly, she put her hands on Max's shoulders, leaned in close, and whispered, "Those were my fucking beans."

Max immediately dissolved into giggles. The one time she'd actually cut loose with her power and had a little fun in the name of evil had become a minor legend between the two of them, and it never failed to cheer her up when she found herself on the downward spiral.

Chloe laughed as well, and she looked a bit relieved, as well as she tried to hide it. She planted a loud, smacky kiss on Max's lips, then hopped back. Her hands found Max's, and she tugged lightly. "Come on, girl. You're hungry, and you're getting loopy."

Max's laughter finally trailed off into a smile. "Yeah. We all knows what happens when the tummy monster doesn't get his nosh on."

Chloe snorted. "You are such a dork. Come on."

Max hesitated a little as she walked, dragging her feet. "Do you think we can go see Kate after?"

"Hm? Sure, we can bring her some food. She'd like th-" Chloe stopped. "Wait, you don't mean just to chat, do you?"

Max shrugged and looked away. "I don't know. Is it the right thing to do?"

Chloe glanced back and smiled. "It's up to you, Max. But you seemed pretty sure about it the other night." She shrugged as well, squeezing Max's hand a little tighter. "We talked about this. I'll support you either way. It's your call."

"Yeah... yeah. Okay." Max took a deep breath and blew it out slowly. "Right."

The drive was mostly uneventful. Chloe's beat up old truck had taken some serious damage during the storm, and it had taken a good bit of work to help it get back up and running. David had helped, to Chloe's wary gratitude, and Max wasn't sure the old girl would have ever driven another mile if he hadn't pitched in.

Still, the thing rattled. It clearly wasn't something too important, considering that it had continued to drive without issue for over a month, but it was irritating. Max had mostly gotten used to it. Chloe mostly seemed offended that the universe had dared to hurt her baby.

Driving down Main Street was always a bit of a sobering experience. The debris and bodies had long since been cleared away, but everywhere you looked were signs of barely healed destruction. Buildings lacked roofs, lacked windows. There were potholes in the road, great gouges where heavy objects had torn through the asphalt like tissue paper. Chloe had to reduce her speed to keep from getting whiplash; repairing the road was just one of the many, many items on the reconstruction crew's to-do list.

Max closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She could still smell the smoke, feel the heat of the flames licking her face. The sounds of screaming mingling with the howling wind, dead bodies slumped against overturned cars and shattered windows. She opened her eyes. Blue sky. A light breeze. Cars rattling down the battered old road.

There. That was where Evan had died, struck by a piece of sheet metal as he tried to capture the tornado. Max hadn't been there to save him. They said the impact had probably killed him quickly, that he hadn't had time to feel much pain. That loss hurt.

That building, the one still hollowed out and covered in scorch marks, missing it's entire second floor. That was where Alyssa had died, trapped under rubble and suffocated by smoke. Max hadn't been there to save her, either. Had she suffered? Probably. A bad death. Her breathing quickened.

Those two deaths hurt even more than all the rest. She'd saved them. She'd pulled Evan out of the way to safety, and she'd guided Alyssa down from where she'd been trapped. They'd been safe, they'd been alive, and she'd rewound. Sure, they might have died as the tornado made landfall, but then, they might not have. She would never know. And they were dead because of her.
Dead like so, so many others. Nearly a hundred dead, because of what she had done to causality. One hundred-twelve missing, her mind intoned solemnly. Five hundred thirty two wounded. Ninety seven confirmed dead. The names she knew started rattling off in her head. Alyssa Anderson, suffocated - dead. Evan Harris, blunt force trauma - dead. Dana Ward, impaled - dead. Courtney Wagner, drowned - dead. Luke Parker, trampled - dead. Stella Hill, crushed and suffocated - dead. Joyce Price, disabled for life. Warren Graham-

Max jumped and nearly screamed as Chloe touched her hand. "Max?" They were parked, it seemed.

She took a shaky breath, forcing her breathing under control, closing her eyes again. "Sorry. Sorry, I'm here. I just…" She cleared her throat, blinking her eyes to try to dispel the tears that wanted to come. "Sorry. Memories. Bad memories here."

Chloe leaned over and gently kissed Max's cheek, giving her hand a quiet squeeze of support. "You okay to go in? We can totally sit here and chill if you need a minute."

Max squeezed her eyelids tight for a moment, then nodded, letting out a hissing breath. "Yeah. You caught me before I really started to spiral. Thanks." She opened her eyes and hoped they weren't as red as they felt as she turned to look at the other woman. "You always know, don't you?"
Chloe looked bemused. "Know?"

Max shrugged, forcing herself to look deep into the other's eyes. "When stuff is really starting to get to me." Her voice was regaining its strength. Not this time, panic attack. Not this time. "You can see it. You can stop it."

Chloe shrugged, looking almost uncomfortable. "I don't know about that. I just know you, y'know? I don't have a superpower like you."

Max tried not to wince. Chloe was good, but not perfect. That wasn't something she wanted to think about, but Chloe was trying her best.

"I just want to take care of you, Max. Like you took care of me." She paused to think. "Like you take care of me. I wouldn't remember to feed myself half the time if you weren't there to remind me." With her free hand, she gently caressed Max's cheek, obviously concerned. "I'm your partner in crime, remember?"

Max sniffed. "Now who's the dork?" She smiled though, and after a quiet moment of pleasant silence leaned forward to kiss Chloe. Chloe's lips were so surprisingly soft, her skin so warm. Her kisses could be rough and needy when things started to get hot and heavy, but for now they were slow and gentle and soothing. Kissing Chloe made her problems just… fade. Kissing Chloe was like… slipping into a pair of your favorite warm pajamas on a cold night, snuggling into bed with a soft pillow and hot chocolate. Or something like that; she was a photographer, not a poet.

At some point, Max pulled back, looking slightly dazed and happy. Chloe was looking at her with a sly smile, fondness written across her face in capital letters. "I needed that."

Chloe snorted. "You spend the whole morning with your tongue in my mouth, and you still needed that? You're going to suck me dry, you succubus! I've only got so many kisses to give!"
Max punched her shoulder. Chloe laughed. "I'm hungry, Chloe. Feed me."

The Two Whales, newly rebuilt, looked much the same as it had before the storm. Normally, it might not have been a priority in the reconstruction efforts following the destruction, but word had quickly spread about Joyce Madsen and her heroic actions in safeguarding the other survivors taking cover there. It had become a symbol of the indomitability of Arcadia Bay and its people, and thus had been one of the first businesses to be restored.

It was a bit shinier now, less worn with age and rust. While the shape and proportions hadn't changed much, it had been built larger than the original, room enough for a few new tables, as well as an expanded space behind the bar to allow Joyce to keep serving and cooking the way it seemed she always had before.

The atmosphere, though, was very different. While never exactly empty, the old Two Whales had been home to a small crowd of regulars, and it wasn't often that every seat in the house would be taken. After its newfound fame, the diner was packed nearly constantly from opening to closing. You never used to have to wait for a booth, but these days it was a near certainty.

Luckily for Max and Chloe, it seemed that it was early enough that the crowds hadn't begun to arrive in earnest. Chimes tinkled as the door swung quietly inward, and the incredible smells of pancake batter and popping bacon flooded Max's nose. That hadn't changed. Chloe hung back a little, pretending to examine some photo or another on the wall, while Max stepped forward to the counter.

Joyce had her back to them, gathering up a couple plates onto a special tray that had been fitted to the lap of her wheelchair. Max waited patiently, content to simply enjoy the familiar sights and smells of the diner. Of all the places she knew in this town, the Two Whales was one of the most nostalgic.

Something cold and unyielding tapped at her shoulder, and she turned to see Warren standing there with a big grin on his face, left arm reached out to poke her with. "Max! Didn't know you were gonna be here today! If I had, I might have dressed up for the occasion." His good arm was balancing a tray of dirty dishes, and for a moment she thought he looked whole and happier than she'd seen him since the storm. Then reality crashed back in, and as he lowered his arm she saw his plastic prosthetic hand, and was reminded again of what she'd done to-

No. She'd had her fill of self pity this morning, and she'd had time to come to terms with the fact that she storm she'd caused had taken Warren's arm.

"You'd wear a T-shirt to a wedding, Warren," she replied, forcing a smile that she hoped looked natural.

"Yeah, yeah, but like, a fancy T-shirt," he grinned, gesturing at his chest with the prosthetic. "Like one of those ones that looks like a tux! You know I'd rock one of those."

Max rolled her eyes. "Watch out, ladies. We've got a man of class here."

"You know it." He winked. "You need help with a table, or did you wanna talk to Mrs. Madsen?"

"Chloe looks lost. Maybe help her find a table for us, if you think you can do that without dropping your tray, Mr. Muscles. I just wanted to check in with Joyce."

Warren nodded. "I'll come talk to you ladies in a minute, yeah? This is starting to get a little heavy."

By the time he'd turned around to nudge Chloe and lead her to a booth, Joyce had already turned around and gotten rid of the plates she'd been picking up. It looked like she'd been waiting for Max to finish talking to Warren.

"Well hello, Max. Decided to take me up on my offer, did you?" She said with a smile.

Max returned the smile. "You know I can't resist your cooking, Joyce," she said. I'm a sucker for a good Belgian waffle."

Joyce nodded thoughtfully. "You're lookin' a bit more chipper than you were this morning. Does that mean you're feeling better, or are you just puttin' on a tough face for Chloe?"

Max shook her head. "Nah, I really am feeling better. You know, just bad dreams. Sometimes I don't realize how bad they mess me up. Chloe was a big help."

Joyce raised an eyebrow. "After the way she came runnin' to help when I called, I'm surprised you got her to wake up at all."

Max shrugged. "You know Chloe. She could sleep through a war."

"Ain't that the truth. I ever tell you about the time her father tried to surprise her with breakfast in bed for her birthday, and she-?"

"And she was asleep so hard you got scared and almost called 911, yeah," Max laughed. "That's a good one. Not like me. I'd wake up if a pin dropped somewhere in the next room."

Joyce shrugged. "It's a blessin' and a curse, I suppose. William-" She shook her head. "Ah, it's not important. He'd be happy to see you and Chloe as happy as you are."

Max smiled. "I'm sure he would."

"Max! Come oooon!" Chloe called from somewhere far off. A couple people turned around to see what all the fuss was about.

Now it was Joyce's turn to roll her eyes. "Sounds like you're bein' summoned. I won't keep you. I've got orders to fill anyhow."

"One second," Max said, then took a breath. She got nervous about the stupidest things, but this was important. "I just wanted to say how grateful I am for everything you're doing for me. I know it's not easy to have an extra mouth to feed, especially with all the house repairs and medical bills, but you really are Super Mom. You didn't have to let me stay with you guys, but you did." Her cheeks heated up, and they'd probably gone pink. "I haven't said it in a while, and I just thought you should know how much it means to me. You're the best, Joyce."

It took a moment for Joyce to respond. She clearly hadn't been expecting this, but neither did she look especially surprised. "Max, you're like a daughter to me. I said that when y'all were kids, and I still mean it today. Chloe loves you, and you're a good influence on her. I couldn't ask for someone better to take care of her, and you've been so helpful around the house. You know how Chloe is. It's good to have an extra pair of hands and feet who will help without puttin' up a fuss about it." She nodded. "As far as I'm concerned, you belong here, Max."

Joyce had said similar things before, but never so clear and unambiguous at that. Today has been such a roller coaster that Max almost felt herself tear up, and a warm feeling spread through her chest. She kept it under control, though. Barely. "Thanks, Joyce. I'm... glad you think so."

"Maaaaaax!"

Joyce snorted. "Go see your girl, Max. I'll be here whenever you need me."

With another stammered thanks, Max finally pulled herself away and slid into the booth across from Chloe. She glared half-seriously. "We were trying to have a moment. Couldn't you wait like two minutes?"

Chloe clasped her hands behind her head and half closed her eyes. "I was bored. Besides, you can talk to mom any time you want. I thought you were hungry."

Max rolled her eyes, faintly exasperated. "She is doing a lot for us, Chloe. Maybe you should turn down the rebel without a cause stuff. Sometimes."

Chloe stuck her tongue out, clearly not taking the conversation seriously. "Okay, Mom."

Max sighed. "You can be such a baby."

"Takes one to know one!"

Max narrowed her eyes. "You're lucky you're all the way over there, or I'd shut you up myself."

"Ooooooh, Max is getting tough! I like it! Bring it on!"

Max tried to keep looking mad, but couldn't quite manage it. Chloe was just too damn cute. After a moment, she burst out laughing.

So did Chloe. "Anyway," she said once they had finally calmed down. "I know. You're right, I can be kind of..." She searched for the word. "...Difficult. But come on, mom would think something was wrong if I wasn't. It's part of my charm, quit fucking it up."

Max rolled her eyes. "There's something wrong with you, that's for sure."

Chloe blew her a kiss.

Max blew her a raspberry in reply.

"Whoa there," said Warren's voice. "The sexual tension is so thick that you're gonna choke all the other customers. Keep it up and I'm gonna have to ask you to leave."

Max turned her head to look at him, smiling slightly. "Says the king of uncomfortable sexual tension. I don't make fun of you and Brooke."

"Yes, you do!" Chloe interjected. "Constantly."

"Traitor."

Warren gave Chloe a little bow. "I rest my case."

"Speaking of Brooke," Max said, "is she still in for tomorrow?"

Warren shrugged. "Dunno. I can't get anything more definite than a maybe out of her. She's got a thing with her parents in the afternoon, so she might hit her social limit. She wants to come to the game, but we'll see."

Max nodded understandingly. Brooke was something of a wallflower, and she could only take so much face-to-face interaction before she basically shut down. "Well, tell her that I hope she can make it. She missed a good session last week."

Warren nodded. "I'll let her know. She's not good at expressing it, but the game means a lot to her. I can tell."

Max beamed. "I'm glad! D&D with you guys is one of the best times of my week." She nudged Chloe's ankle under the table with her foot.

"What? Oh, me too!" said Chloe with all the subtlety of a sock full of bricks to the face.

"Good!" Warren didn't seem to have noticed. "Running it is hard work, you know! You better appreciate it." He glanced behind him, and seemed to start. "Anyway," he said, awkwardly scratching his face with his prosthetic, "I'd love to keep chatting, but we've got customers. Let me know what you want and we'll get right on it."

He took their orders - a Belgian waffle for Max and steak and eggs for Chloe - gave them a playful salute with his good hand, and walked off to service other tables.

Max and Chloe engaged in idle banter until the food arrived. This was good for herself, Max thought. This kind of normality. It made the dreams and the panic attacks feel so much farther away to just joke with Chloe and Warren and pretend like she was just a normal girl again. For a while, she could almost fool herself into thinking she was.

When the food came, it was just icing on the cake. She was happy.