Consider this one our late Christmas present to all our wonderful readers! We worked hard on this one, so feedback would be wonderful!

Have a late merry Christmas and an early happy new year! -Ben

Christmas Day drew closer. Life proceeded much as it had for the recent past. They never quite ended up having that feelings talk, but Max had a hard time worrying, for once. Thing were okay. Max had nightmares, but somehow they didn't seem quite as bad as they had been since the storm. She wasn't waking up in a cold sweat at least, and they weren't so focused around her powers and the storm. She even remembered having a pleasant dream for once, where she had returned to Blackwell Academy only to discover that all the lockers had been filled with chocolate. When was the last time she'd had a dream that didn't try to tear her heart asunder?

She just put it down to the Christmas spirit cheering her up a little, but Chloe seemed hopeful that it was indicative of real progress.

"Wouldn't it be great if you could actually, you know, sleep, for once?" Chloe asked through a grin a mile wide as she measured flour, the day before Christmas Eve. "Max, this is good! You're getting better! Don't look a gift horse in the mouth!"

"The gift horse might have rabies. Whoever gave me the horse could be ripping me off," Max retorted quietly from the fridge, a small smile on her face. "Chloe, I just don't want to start getting my hopes up. Or yours. It's only been a few days. That could mean anything." She pulled the eggs from the fridge and dropped them off beside the big bowl Chloe was slaving over, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek.

Chloe blew a quiet raspberry in reply. "Well I'm going to be happy about it." She leaned over to turn up the radio, humming along, leaving flour fingerprints on the volume dial. The chugging guitar and intense female vocals got louder. They're gonna bury you/They're gonna finish/They're gonna stand em up six by six by six... Max narrowed her eyes. Was the song intentionally threatening her?

Max loved some of Chloe's favorite music. Some of it... she didn't really understand. And some of it had to grow on her like a fungus. She winced a little. "What happened to Christmas music? You know, Jingle Bells, Deck the Halls? The classics?"

Chloe rolled her eyes. "Fuck that shit," she replied as she cracked an egg into the bowl. "The Price household is a No Christmas Music Zone. At least, when mom's not around." She reached into the bowl, picking out a few stray bits of shell from the batter. "This is why you don't have radio privileges."

The banter was nice. It was easy to forget everything that weighed her down in moments like this. She wasn't broken. She wasn't afraid. She wasn't a monster who had killed a town. She was just... Max. A girl making Christmas cookies with her girlfriend. Maybe things were looking up.

Chloe made a show of vigorously stirring the batter. "The more you stir it," she confided, "the better it is."

Max grabbed a handful of paper towels and started cleaning up what she could. Chloe wasn't exactly neat. "I don't think that's exactly how it works."

"What do you know about cooking?" Chloe scoffed. "I am, as anyone can see, the master chef in this relationship."

"Says the girl who ate nothing but ramen and Doritos when I went to visit my parents for a weekend."

Chloe flicked the spoon at Max, splattering her face with delicious cookie batter. "Iron Chef!" she chanted. "Iron Chef! Iron Chef!"

Max made a noise that was more squeal than anything, raising her hands far too late to defend herself. She lunged forward, grappling at Chloe's wrist for control of the spoon. "You're gonna pay for that!"

Attempting to use her superior height to her advantage, Chloe fought back, still chanting. She pulled and twisted, but Max was too strong.

"Die!" Max grappled the taller girl, without much success.

"Nooooo!" It was pretty much a stalemate.

They wrestled for a few moments, laughing, when Max suddenly darted in, quick as a flash, planting a kiss on Chloe's lips.

Chloe stiffened in surprise at first, but quickly gave in. Her playful tension relaxed, and she leaned into Max, gently - but with an edge of hunger - returning the kiss. She made a soft sound in her throat, releasing the spoon with one hand to wrap around Max's waist to pull her closer...

At which point, Max pulled back, let out her best war cry, grabbed the spoon, and smeared batter over Chloe's face. "Vengeance is mine!"

Chloe just looked down at Max for a moment, pathetic as a puppy dog who had just been accidentally kicked by its owner.

Max rolled her eyes. "Don't gimme that look. You did it first."

Chloe held the expression for a few more seconds before breaking into a wide grin, raising one eyebrow and looking positively smug.

"What's that look for?"

"Oh, nothing," Chloe said innocently. "Just, you know, there's only one way to deal with a situation like this."

Max could see where this was going, but she put on a confused expression anyway. The batter splatter was drying on her cheeks. "And that would be?" Chloe could be such a dork when she was in full flirt mode.

"You'll just have to lick it off." Chloe fluttered her eyelids innocently.

Max burst out laughing, then grabbed Chloe by the wrist and pulled her in closer. "C'mere, punk."

Joyce wouldn't be home for hours. The cookies could wait.

Christmas Eve, the night sparkling.

It was dark and snowing as Max and Chloe made their way home, and it was beautiful. Arcadia Bay really had come together as a community since the disaster. Nearly every single home and business they passed were decked out and lit up, shining like jewels in the night, snowflakes dancing in the colored lights like rainbows. A nativity scene here, a horde of marching snowmen there.

Even the families who didn't celebrate Christmas for one reason or another had gone all out with decorations. In this moment, in this town, the Christmas season wasn't solely about Christianity or commercialism. It was solidarity. It was a way of saying that they'd all taken a beating from God or Fate, but they were all still here. It was a reminder that light did still shine, even after something as horrific as the storm.

It was enchanting. The inside of the truck was toasty and comfortable, soft Christmas music piping through the radio. Chloe's hand in hers was warm, and the glass of the window was cool on her forehead as she stared out at the passing displays.

By her side, Chloe drove calmly, the hint of a smile on her lips, a smoking cigarette between the fingers of the hand on the wheel.

They didn't need to speak to share this moment together.

Moments like this were some of Max's favorites. She loved talking to Chloe. Hearing her voice, listening to what she had to say. But there was something comfortable about the silence. Lived in. Warm.

They pulled into Chloe's driveway, and just… sat for a moment. Looking into each others' eyes. Smiling.

Chloe was the first to turn, shouldering the door open with a quiet grunt of effort. The keys-in-ignition alarm buzzed shrilly, and with a mumbled "Fuck," she leaned back in to retrieve them.

Max followed her out, taking her time walking around the front of the truck to be with her girlfriend. Tonight was just… nice. There hadn't been enough nice in her life since the storm. She didn't want it to end.

After one last drag, Chloe flicked the still-lit cigarette into the snow and turned to face Max, smoke and fog blurring together as she exhaled. "That wasn't so bad."

Max shrugged. "At least they weren't all high this time." She grasped Chloe's hand in hers, and leaned up to peck her cheek.

Chloe snorted. "They were high as fuckin' kites, dude. The only ones who weren't were you and me."

"Well, they seemed normal this time," Max protested.

"Or my sweet little innocent Max just hasn't been around pot enough to know." Chloe tugged on Max's hand gently, leading her toward the door. She must have noticed that Max was shivering a little.

"Hey, I spend plenty of time around you, pothead." Max let herself be led in.

The house was dark and quiet, lit only by a few strings of Christmas lights, casting weird and colorful shadows across the walls. Joyce was probably asleep. Thank god for the new bedroom, Max thought. The back of the garage had been converted into a room for Joyce, complete with a walk-in shower to help her bathe. There was a disturbing symmetry to it, Max couldn't help but notice when she went there. Another reminder of the alternate universe where Chloe had been paralyzed. It had only recently been finished, the efforts spearheaded mostly by David, but it had taken Joyce's newfound status as a local hero to bring in donations and volunteer labor. She was incredibly uncomfortable with all the support, and it had taken all the money that would have gone into replacing the windows, but Max was happy that she had it. Joyce deserved better than sleeping on a couch every night.

Chloe flicked the light switch, and gentle yellow light filled the hallway. "You hungry?" she whispered, so as not to wake her mother. "Because I'm starving."

Max thought about it for a moment, but her consideration was cut short when her stomach gurgled.

Chloe kissed Max's cheek and practically skipped forward. "Definitely gotta feed the monster then. I'll make noodles."

Max rolled her eyes. "Your specialty."

Chloe's nod was chipper. "I make the best damn instant ramen this side of the Mississippi."

"You don't burn them anymore, at least." Chloe had briefly had a little microwaveable bowl that made cooking blocks of ramen noodles simpler and faster. It had lasted about a week before Chloe had put it into the microwave oven without remembering to fill it with water and melted it. The stink of burnt plastic had lingered for way longer than Max would have expected.

Chloe ignored her, ferreting out a pot for the water as quietly as she could, which wasn't particularly quiet. At least there's a wall between us and Joyce, Max thought as she watched her girlfriend fumble.

Once the pot was filled up and on the stove, Chloe leaned back against the fridge, apparently doing her best to look seductive. It was... pretty cute, actually. "Does my incredible culinary skill turn you on?"

Max snorted, then got up on her tiptoes to press a tiny kiss to Chloe's lips. "You have no idea."

They didn't end up making out this time. Instead, they just talked about light, silly things, laughing and teasing and just... enjoying themselves as the water came to a boil. It burbled cheerfully as Chloe threw in a pair of blocks of instant noodles, only narrowly avoiding splashing herself with the scalding water.

Well, Chloe did always say she liked to live on the edge. Danger is my middle name, Mad Max.

After a few more minutes of quiet banter, the noodles were done, and Chloe busied herself into draining the water and separating the food into two separate bowls, then dumping in the flavor packets and stirring.

Max wandered over to the table and sat down. Chloe followed not far behind, setting a steaming bowl in front of her with a wink and a "Bon appetit." She took a seat on the opposite side of the table, facing Max with her own bowl in front of her.

Max smiled, looking across at Chloe, bathed in the soft light from the other room and the bits of color from the string of Christmas lights overhead. Instant noodles and brightly colored mood lighting wasn't exactly a romantic candlelit dinner, but Max wouldn't have traded it for the world. Moments like these... Quiet moments like these. She lived for these moments.

Chloe furrowed her brow a little. "Uh, Earth to Max? You okay over there?"

Max blushed a little and looked down at her bowl. "Yeah. I'm fine. I'm just..." She reached across the table and took Chloe's hand. "I'm happy."

Chloe looked a little startled, but she smiled shyly (something she did a lot more often than you'd expect, when they were being romantic) and reached up to adjust her beanie, to give her other hand something to do. "I'm... happy too, Max. Merry Christmas Eve?"

"Merry Christmas Eve."

Max didn't have a single nightmare that night.

The first thing Max noticed when she woke up the next morning was that Chloe wasn't in bed with her.

That didn't usually happen, but then, she usually woke up pretty early these days, no thanks to the nightmares. The sheets were cold, so she must have slept in quite a bit.

With a little shiver, feeling the goosebumps rise on her arm, she reached out to the alarm clock, tired eyes blurred. Seven thirty? Chloe usually slept later than that when Max let her rest. Chloe wasn't an early bird at all. It wasn't just the sheets that were cold. The whole room was freezing.

Blinking blearily, Max sat up, idly scratching a leg that hadn't been shaved in a few days. The window was open? Weird. It was way too cold for that to be normal. Chloe's computer was off and the door was closed. No sign of her.

Odd. But, Max thought with a little smile, maybe Chloe was just excited about Christmas morning. Chloe could be just like a kid sometimes. She'd been late to stop believing in Santa Claus as a kid, and Max still teased her for that sometimes.

Taking a deep breath to steady herself, she heaved herself to her feet and padded over to the closet. Should she bother getting dressed? She considered for a moment, then shook her head. Fuck it, it was Christmas. Big t-shirt, boxers, and bare feet it was. Taking a moment to shut the window, she left the room with a jaw-cracking yawn.

A quiet Christmas jingle drifted up from the bottom of the stairs, and Max found herself smiling again. Joyce must be up. There was a quiet, distant sliding sound, then a muffled thump.

"Merry Christmas!" she called as she came down the stairs. Gentle clinks and clatters came from the kitchen.

"Merry Christmas, Max!" Joyce called back.

Max poked her head into the kitchen, where Joyce was delicately maneuvering around the cramped little kitchen. Looked like... pancakes? "Need any help, Joyce? It smells delicious."

Joyce rolled her eyes. "Oh, you're just being polite. It's hardly even batter yet, Max, there's barely anything to smell."

Max grinned, an arm unconsciously crossed over her chest. "Still. The offer stands."

For a second, she thought she saw concern, but Joyce just shook her head. "Thank you, Max, but I think I've got it from here. The hard part's all done. Just gotta cook 'em."

"If you say so. You know where to find me!"

Max wandered into the living room, and took a moment to admire the tree. It felt so... homey. They hadn't gone overboard with the decorations. A few lights, a bit of tinsel, a few colored globes. A glittering star rested comfortably on top. There was a small pile of wrapped presents underneath. Not terribly many, as none of them had much in the way of money, but it was a pleasant sight.

Something was off though. It was quiet. She turned and really looked around the room, and noticed something significant missing: Chloe.

"Hey Joyce?" Max asked, poking her head back in. "Have you seen Chloe anywhere?"

Joyce nodded as she spooned some batter into the pan. "She was here just but a minute ago. Said something about needing a smoke, I think, just before you came down." She tutted. "Now that's a bad habit I wish she hadn't picked up from me. I hate to see her do that to herself. Not to mention how..." She sighed and shook her head. "Never mind me. I'm sure you've talked to her about it, Max. I know I can't control that girl." She snorted. "Though lord knows sometimes I wish I could."

Max felt a tiny pang. Everything else seemed so much better, but Chloe's smoking seemed to have gotten even worse since she'd started saying she wanted to quit. She would go lengths of time during the day without smoking only to go through half a pack later. Max had told her that she supported her, and would do whatever Chloe needed to succeed, but... She hated it. She really did.

"Yeah, well, you know Chloe. Telling her not to do something makes her want to do it twice as hard." Max smiled feebly at Joyce, then went to the front door to find her shoes. She slipped into them and went to the sliding door that opened out into the backyard. She peeked out.

Chloe was standing where the swings had been before the storm, facing away from the house. It looked like she was fully dressed, and a wispy cloud of smoke hung around her. As Max watched, she lifted the cigarette to her lips, and the tip burned down some more.

Max pushed the door open and stepped outside. She shivered as a blast of cold air hit her, but she soldiered on and crunched through the thin layer of snow toward Chloe.

Chloe didn't turn. There was a cigarette butt on the ground, and the one in her hand had burned a little more than halfway down.

"Chloe?" Max reached out to gently touch Chloe's shoulder.

Chloe jumped, apparently startled, but when she looked back, she had a smile on her face. "Oh, hey, Max. Sorry, I just needed some fresh air, you know? I..." She hesitated. "I thought I'd be back inside before you woke up."

There was something off about Chloe, but Max couldn't put her finger on what it was. A jolt of nervousness shot through her gut, but she smiled anyway. "Come back inside. You're not dressed up enough for this weather. You'll catch a cold."

"With my constitution?" Chloe took one last drag and flicked the cigarette into the snow. "I don't get sick. But alright, you convinced me."

Max leaned in to kiss her, and the smell of smoke was thick. She wanted to cough. "Merry Christmas, you dork."

Chloe returned the kiss. "Merry Christmas, Max." She shivered briefly, as if she'd only just noticed how cold it really was. "Come on, let's head in."

She strode off without waiting for a response, clearly expecting Max to follow.

Max did, frowning at Chloe's back. This wasn't how Chloe usually acted. This wasn't how she'd expected Christmas morning to go. Even in their brief interactions, there had been a distance. Was Chloe forcing her smile?

Stop that. Not everything has to be a disaster. Everyone has off days. Hell, she was probably just making it all up. Seeing things that weren't there.

Chloe shoved the door open and stomped over to the couch, dropping like a stone into the seat.

Once Max's shoes were off and set neatly next to the door, she followed, taking a seat beside Chloe. She scooted closer, resting her head on her girlfriend's shoulder. "Chloe, is everything okay?" This close, the tension in her muscles was unmistakable.

"I'm fine," Chloe replied casually. Cigarette stink around her hung like ominous fog. "Why wouldn't I be?"

Max sighed. "I don't know, that's why I'm asking. You seem..." She searched for the words. "...Like something is bothering you."

Chloe shook her head. "Nope. I'm good." Her words were prickly, but there was a clearly forced cheer in them. "Just like I always am."

Max furrowed her brow, lifting her head to look at Chloe. "I don't know what you mean."

Chloe opened her mouth as if to speak, but then sighed and pressed a kiss to Max's cheek. "Sorry. It's nothing. I'm fine."

Max settled reluctantly back into the cuddle. "Chloe, you know you can talk to me about anything, right?"

"Yep, sure."

"Okay..." Max sighed, a little exasperated. Something was wrong, but she couldn't exactly help if Chloe wouldn't admit it.

She's tired of you, a voice whispered in her head. You and all your problems.

Max clenched her teeth and tried to ignore her thoughts.

You didn't wake her up last night, it continued. She's realizing how long it's been since she wasn't constantly dealing with your issues. How much she misses-

Max inhaled raggedly, forcing the voice down. She wasn't going to let herself overthink this. It was Christmas, right? She wasn't going to ruin it with her self-doubt.

She focused on her breath. Inhale through the nose, exhale through the mouth. The smell of pancakes was well and truly wafting throughout the house, now, and the quiet sizzle of heated butter and batter drifted from the kitchen.

Chloe had turned the TV on, and was idly watching the news. Some pre-recorded fluff piece about some Christmas celebration in the next town over. She tried to listen, but her thoughts were so loud.

Her phone buzzed, and, grateful for the distraction, she checked it. Kate. [Merry Christmas, Max! I'm thankful for so much this year!] Then, before Max had time to respond, another message came in; a picture of Kate in her cute little duck pajamas, each arm around one of her sister's shoulders, grinning. Max smiled, and opened up her phone's camera.

"Chloe, say hi to Kate!" She scooted away and turned to frame her.

Chloe blinked awkwardly, then turned to try to pose a little, giving the camera the double finger-guns. Click. The second the picture was taken, Chloe sagged, all of the forced cheer drained back out of her face.

Max sent the picture as a reply to Kate, along with the message [merry christmas, kate! you guys are so beautiful! ^.^ maxoxo] When she looked up and saw Chloe back to pretending not to mope, she sighed. "Chloe... talk to me. Please."

Chloe visibly clenched her jaw for a moment before forcing her face to go slack. "I'm fine. Can we please go five minutes without a crisis?"

Max frowned, concerned, trying to ignore the cold lump in her stomach. Tired of you. "A crisis? Chloe, I just want to make sure you're okay."

Chloe snorted, staring a hole through the TV. "I am okay. You're the one who's making a big deal out of this."

"Something's obviously wrong," Max began, but Chloe cut her off.

"Something's always wrong," Chloe snapped without looking.

Max blinked, frozen. "Chloe…?"

Chloe didn't respond.

"Chloe… you have to talk to me. You're always telling me to talk to you about what's bothering me, right…?" Max touched Chloe's hand. "I'm right here. Talk to me."

Chloe said nothing and pulled her hand away.

Max swallowed, the icy pit in her gut growing. She hates you she finally sees how worthless you are she's tired of you you're damaged and worthless worthless worthless- "Please…"

Chloe's hand tightened into a fist. "I'm there for you. I'm always there for you. No matter how I feel. You need me, so I'm there."

Max shook her head. "Chloe, I don't-"

"Understand? Of course you don't." Chloe still wouldn't look at her. "You have nightmares. You have panic attacks. Okay, I think, love is give and take. I love you and I'm there for you."

"I love you too, Chloe, but-"

Chloe continued as if Max hadn't spoken. "But it never stops, Max. It never, ever stops."

Max's breath started coming faster, more ragged. "I can't help it, I just-"

"I know you can't help it," Chloe hissed through clenched teeth. "I know you can't help it and I'm such a piece of shit for it but what about me, Max? What about my problems?"

Max couldn't breath.

"I don't sleep well. I hardly sleep at all, and half the time when I do, I have to wake up to take care of you. But I can't fucking say that because then I'm the selfish asshole. I have to hide how I feel because you're so fucking fragile, Max."

Clinking came from the kitchen. "Pancakes are up, girls! Come and get 'em!"

Max's throat was dry as a bone, and she couldn't seem to remember how to speak.

"You wake up screaming. You have panic attacks. So I always have to shove down whatever bullshit I'm dealing with and take care of you. I'm depressed too, remember? I have problems too!" Chloe's voice was raising as she went. "I've been through the same things you were, but you don't see me breaking down on the fucking hour every day! I wish I could break down! I wish I could just hurt sometimes, but no! I have to be there for you!"
Joyce's wheelchair sat in the doorway, her eyes wide. "Chloe, are you-"

Chloe was on her feet now, her fists clenched at her sides, still not looking. "I'm there for you every single day, Max. When's the last time you were there for me?"

That struck home, and Max stood up herself, tears glistening in her eyes. Where did this come from? We were so happy. "When's the last time I was there for you? I've been there for you every minute since that day in the bathroom!" She wasn't quite yelling and she wasn't quite crying, but she was more than halfway there. "You wouldn't even be here if it wasn't for me!"

Chloe barked out a bitter laugh. "Yeah, Max. I wouldn't. Sometimes I wish you hadn't. Oh, I'm sorry, is that a surprise, Max?" She stamped her foot. "My problems didn't just go away because Nathan didn't put abullet in me. He still drugged me! I still lost everyone! So you haven't abandoned me yet. Who cares? Everyone abandons me in the end! After this, of course you won't stay, so what does it matter?"

"Chloe, I'm not going anywhere, but that's ridiculous!" She was definitely crying now. She could feel the wet lines on her cheeks. "Okay, I didn't know how bad you were suffering, but you have to talk to me!"

"I can't, Max! That's what you don't understand! I always had to take care of you! Soothe you! There's never been any time for me!"

Time. That was all she had. Time. This was bad. This was so, so bad. How long had Chloe been holding this in? How long had it been building? She felt so flabbergasted. She felt so blindsided. Then again… couldn't she see this coming…? Maybe not for this second, but one day, it was going to happen. "How can I take care of you when you won't even try to take care of yourself?" she shot back desperately. Hitting back was wrong, and she knew it, but it was all she could think of.

"Excuse me?"

"I did so much to save your life and you're still killing yourself! So you aren't pointing a gun at your head, Chloe, but are the cigarettes any better? I went through so much to keep you safe and I have to sit here watching you poison yourself!" Such a low blow and such a feeble attempt.

Chloe laughed again as if knowing the argument's weakness. "Because you're doing such a great fucking job taking care of me! Is it any wonder I self-medicate?"

Tears were running freely down Max's face now. She felt so… so helpless. "Chloe, I am so sorry for what I haven't done for you, but-"

Chloe turned away. "No. Max, I…" Her voice was suddenly very quiet. "I need to think. I need…" She trailed off, as if she couldn't finish the thought, and bolted for the front door. After a moment, there was the muffled sound of her truck coughing to life.

Max just stood there in front of the couch, stunned. You're doing such a great job taking care of me. There's never been any time for me.

Her eyes burned, her throat was tight…. After all she'd been through, was this how it ends?

"Max?" Joyce seemed almost as taken aback as Max. "Honey, are you alright?"

Max didn't say a word. The fingers on her left hand twitched. A great, heaving sob escaped her lips, and in a moment, she was running too. Where? She wasn't sure. Joyce called after her, but she didn't stop.

She stood in Chloe's room, sobbing, leaning back against the door. She was so stupid. She should have seen that Chloe was hurting. She should have seen how selfish she'd been. How hard she'd been to deal with. Chloe is done with your shit, Max. She's not coming back. Not the way she'd been before this. Nothing can fix this.

Yes, something can.

The thought hurt so bad. Everything hurt so bad. Merry Christmas. Her fingers twitched again.

What other option did she have? With a choked noise, she almost subconsciously lifted her left hand out before her…

...and…

The world spun crazily around her, shapes and colors blurred and twisted and nauseating. Something pounded over and over in her head, like the beat of a great drum, and a high pitched whine filled her ears. For an instant it all seemed too much, the way it always did, but then, a single clear thought. You swore you'd never do this again.

She dropped to her knees with a heavy thud and a desperate gasp, her right hand clutching at her heart. She was still crying, and her lungs felt like they could only let out a burning pinprick's worth of air.

She simply sat there for a moment before she looked up, eyes nervously searching out the alarm clock. 7:30. Before she'd gone downstairs. Before the fight. Her body went cold. Oh, god.

What have I done?