So we've got a little bad news this week. Since Sid and I have both started classes again, we've been a little overwhelmed, and it's hard to balance a chapter a week with all our work at the moment. So Life Goes On is taking a short hiatus. Not a long one, don't worry, it's not going away. Life Goes On will return in four weeks, on February 14th. We haven't lost our passion, we're just tired people.

Thank you for your understanding! We still love you all.

-Ben

Coming back to herself took time. The blurry shapes around her resolved into a doctor and a trio of nurses, and the steady beeping revealed itself to be a machine keeping track of her pulse. Once she was awake and fully lucid, the doctor had excused everyone from the room to explain the situation.

An aneurysm. That was what he'd said, wasn't it? It sounded so clinical like that. It was kind of funny, in a way. She thought she should be distressed. Afraid. Hysterical. But right now, all she felt was numb.

Numbness and guilt. Guilt for what she had put Chloe through. Guilt at letting her self control slip. What did I do? How many times did I... She wasn't even sure. Half a dozen? At least. Everything after the fight was a desperate blur.

Once the explanation was done, the doctor began to ask her a few uncomfortable questions about her relationship with Chloe and their activities, as well as her own. Did she and Chloe ever fight? Only once, but it was enough. Did Chloe ever touch her when she was upset? Unimaginable. Had she had any recent head injuries, accidental or otherwise? Only a fatal lack of self control. She seemed very suspicious of Chloe, and Max had a hard time wrapping her head around it. Do they really think she did this to me?

Max was distressed by the interrogation, and in the end, the doctor had to call in a few nurses to administer a mild sedative before her high blood pressure could exacerbate the head trauma. The doctor's questions stopped after that. Her sleep was dreamless.

They kept her sedated until the next morning. When she woke, Chloe was right there by her side, gripping her hand tight. The room spun a little, she was nauseous, and the medication made her a bit foggy, but she knew where she was almost instantly.

Once Max's eyes had fluttered open, Chloe had practically thrown herself onto Max, her eyes already filled with tears. "Oh, thank god..." She into Max's chest, her voice muffled and cracked. "Don't you ever do that to me again..." She trailed off into sniffles, holding Max tight.

Max, still slightly bewildered, held Chloe close. It had been the first time her rebellious girlfriend had accepted that kind of help since… Ever.

Max had always leaned on Chloe's shoulder, but this time, Chloe had finally let herself lean back. Max thought back to the junkyard, when they'd found Rachel's body. It felt so long ago. Like something that had happened to someone else. She wanted a friend and a partner, not a burden. Even then, Chloe had withdrawn into herself rather than reaching out, barely accepting or even acknowledging Max's best efforts to comfort her.

Chloe had always been that way. At William's funeral, all those years ago, Max had offered Chloe a hand, but Chloe had just stood silently, eyes on her father's casket, tears streaming down her face. She'd denied herself any external comfort. When Chloe suffered, she withdrew. She isolated herself. This was the first time Chloe had needed her like this.

That just pointed out the severity of what Max had done.

A few hours after Max woke up, Chloe drove them home. The headache Max was nursing stayed mostly low grade as they passed through a pharmacy drive through for her new prescriptions. Anti-inflammatories and a steroid she couldn't pronounce. When was the last time she'd been to a pharmacy? She'd always been healthy. As they drove home, Chloe's silence became oppressive. She had nothing to do but think. To remember.

Thinking about what had happened… It left Max with a cold feeling in the pit of her stomach. She wanted to talk to Chloe about it, but she didn't know if she should. Worry and fear gnawed at her insides at the prospect of needing to broach the subject. What would she say anyway? Hey, sorry for nearly killing myself because you were mad at me. That was a great idea. They hadn't spoken since leaving the hospital. The coiling fear wrapped itself around her throat like an insidious corkscrew threatening to suffocate her.

"Chloe, am I a monster?" The words came out without conscious effort. Heat rose in Max's cheeks and she felt slightly lightheaded. She remembered her dreams all too clearly, and that question had been circling through her mind since the moment she'd woken up. Things will never be alright, Max. That's what you never understood.

Chloe jerked the steering wheel slightly to the right, toward a snow bank. "What?" Her voice was soft and quiet. Something in it made tears prick at Max's eyes.

Max swallowed the barbed wire in her throat. "Do you-"

"I know what you said, Max, but it doesn't make sense. Why would I think of you as a monster?" Her voice was strained, confused... and a little hurt?

Max tried to ignore the hollow pop of Chloe's knuckles as she gripped the steering wheel harder, her knuckles turning white. "D-do you blame me for what happened to Rachel?"

"Max…" Chloe reached a hand toward her. When had she started shaking?

"Just answer me." She tried to make her voice sound firm, but instead, it broke midway through the second word.

Chloe sounded incredulous, but she didn't try to glance over at her. "No, Max. Why would I blame you for that…?"

"Because I… It isn't rational but…" Her voice started to shake with the rest of her. "I'm tangled in this mess and I just-"

"You aren't responsible for what happened to her." Chloe's voice barely reached above a whisper. After she cleared her throat, she spoke again. "Man, yeah you could rewind, but what good would it do? It was three months before you came around. Not even you could go back and fix that."

She got quiet again. Max couldn't think of anything to say back. She was too busy using herself as a mental punching bag.

"Max," Her voice was so pained and careful. "What happened yesterday…?"

The question. Her throat felt like she'd swallowed a hot rock and washed it down with acid. What had happened?

Max took a deep breath and closed her eyes. "We had a really big fight."

There's more to it than that, one part of her hissed.

I can't tell her, though. I have to keep it to myself so she doesn't worry, said another part. She has enough to worry about.

Max didn't miss Chloe's eyes flicker over to her briefly before returning to the road. "What about?" She was trying to sound casual. Max could hear how forced it was.

"It doesn't matter," Max felt herself say. God, she wanted to tell Chloe everything, but what would it do to her? Would the honesty be worth the cost? She'd spent so much time concerned about herself that she'd completely ignored Chloe's reactions before. A tiny part of her whispered, That's not true, but it was quickly drowned by doubt.

Chloe's voice rose out of nowhere. "If it was a big enough deal for you to… To relapse, then I think it does matter!" She slammed the heel of her hand against the steering wheel. Her breaths came quick and heavy from her flared nostrils. Her eyes welled and glistened with fresh tears. Her next words sank back into the near whisper they had been before. "Talk to me, Max. Please."

Max tried to speak, but her tongue felt thoroughly, expertly glued to the roof of her mouth.

"I'm… I'm sorry, Max." Chloe angrily wiped at the tears in her eyes. "You need me to be tough right now."

That was enough to unstick her tongue. "This. That's what it was about. This." Words tumbled from her mouth as she gesticulated wildly at Chloe, and she secretly wondered what truth serum the hospital had injected into her as a sick joke. "How I never let you have a bad day. How I dump everything on you and take and take and take. How I burden you." The tears in her eyes threatened to spill over, but hot anger forced them down. "How you hide your needs in order to… to save me or something."

The silence after her words became almost painful in a span of milliseconds. Chloe didn't respond immediately, and she looked as drained as if she'd had to physically grapple with the words Max had thrown down, rather than just listening.

The words kept flowing after a pause. "I'm not fair to you, Chloe. I'm not fair to you, and I'm not fair to us. I haven't been considerate to you. Hell, I haven't even… I haven't even tried to think about anyone other than myself. My own problems. I never realized for a second how bad you felt..." Tears threatened again, and this time, Max couldn't bite them back. They spilled over and speckled the grey jacket she wore. "Chloe, I-I saw… things… when I was in the hospital. I saw things that just showed me what I really am... They were all right. E-every one of them. All I do is hurt y-you."

Quiet sobs wracked her body. The cold crept in despite the blazing heater and multiple layers of clothes. Chloe said nothing back. Max's head thumped lightly on the side of the truck door with every shaky inhale. The only sounds were her crying, the humming heater, and the loud road.

"Max…" Chloe's strangled voice broke. "You could have died…"

That's all she said. How could Max say anything back to that? If Nathan, Rachel, and her other self were right, she would only hurt everyone. She thought she had overcome those thoughts, but distance from the dreams didn't provide a distraction. It lead her to doubt. Her resolve that she'd built against it weakened and shattered when needing to confront Chloe.

I just keep falling apart. How could Chloe want something this…

take this back take it back rewind and erase this stupid fight just one more rewind one more you can fix this

ALWAYS TAKE THE SHOT

...broken...?

Chloe reached her hand over to Max's shoulder and pulled her slightly over. "Stop hitting your head, doofus."

Not a single trace of hostility tinted her words.

Shortly after, Chloe pulled into the driveway and let the engine run for a minute before speaking again. "I don't know what you're thinking right now because I'm bad at that kind of thing, but I do know that I know you. I know you think I'm being circuitous but-"

Max snorted out a laugh. "Circuitous?"

"Hey, I read a book once!" She smiled, but never looked Max's way. "Anyway, I do know you, Max. Right now, you're beating yourself up for this whole thing. You think that you've put me in a shitty situation or keep hurting me or something."

Max looked down at her hands, which she'd folded in her lap.

"I'm… not great with coming to you when I need to. I'll admit that." She shrugged. "Max, you aren't a burden to me." The spot between her eyebrows wrinkled the way it did when she was thinking pretty hard. "I always want to be strong for you even at a detriment to myself."

"Detriment?"

"Okay, I've read two books before." She smiled and looked over at Max for only a second before shifting her gaze to the window and beyond. "All I'm trying to say is-" Her eyes widened and her mouth fell open before she pointed a finger to the window. "CAT."

Max whipped her head around and felt the world tip sideways a little. Chloe caught her from leaning too far and laughed. "Take it easy, you drunk."

"Wheresakittycat" The words were mushed and tangled.

Max's vision, though blurred, settled on a small grey figure in the snow. She lifted a hand to her head as a new throb of headache came barging in. It was the kitten they had been seeing for the last month or so. At least, that's what Max thought. It really could have been any greyish blob wriggling in the snow, but Chloe's reaction said it was the kitten. A bright spot in the dark. Or rather. The dark spot in the snow.

Chloe bailed out of the truck, which she left running, and waddled toward the kitten. She stealthily approached it, picked it up, and stuffed it in her jacket pocket. The kitten howled in righteous indignation. Smiling like they hadn't just been in deep conversation less than a minute ago, Chloe opened the door to the still running truck and assisted Max down onto the concrete, cutting the engine from the passenger's side.

Still a little dizzy, Max swayed in the nonexistent breeze. Chloe's disposition had changed so fast… She felt determined not to let it go this time. Chloe wrapped an arm around Max's shoulders and kissed her forehead, kitten still yowling in her pocket. Chloe's excitement was almost tangible. She'd really wanted to take in the kitten when it started coming around, and now it sat grumpily in her clothes like a petulant cat child. What Max could see of the animal was dirty and wet. It looked underfed, and it wasn't wearing a collar. Poor pathetic baby. Me too, bud. Stabilizing herself on Chloe's shoulder, Max tottered up the steps and let herself into the warm comfort of the Price house.

"Princess Monster Truck." Chloe offered, looking over her steaming cup of hot chocolate.

"Chloe, we aren't naming our cat after a meme." Max rolled her eyes and huffed but smiled as she stroked the playful ball of fluff. It had taken a bit of wrangling to get the kitten inside, but once she had been out of the cold, she'd settled down surprisingly quickly.

"What about Amanda?" Joyce called out from the kitchen.

Max looked over at Chloe, who shrugged and grunted. "Too normal of a name. Think of someone asking, 'How's Amanda doing?' And everyone around you thinks you're talking about a dear sick aunt, but then you say, 'Amanda got into the garbage last night and kept us up with her yowling. Jesus we need to get Amanda fixed.' That would be weird and you know it."

A snort of laughter came from the kitchen. Max giggled too. Things felt strangely normal all things considered.

"We could name her Deckard and no one would be the wiser," Max suggested helpfully.

Chloe slammed her fist down on the table in excitement, earning a confused and started jump and yowl from the cat. "HARRISON FORD."

"Chloe, it's a female cat."

"Who cares?" Her arms flailed before going back to soothe the bitey ball of fur. "Think of how genuinely ironically hilarious that would be." She lowered her voice and shook a stern finger at the cat. "Harrison Ford, get off the top of the fridge."

Happiness disguised as butterflies welled up in Max's stomach. They came out in burbles of laughter deep from her belly. Chloe began laughing too. Within a few minutes, laughter turned into Laughter ft. Tears and then wheezing. The glow on Chloe's cheeks is what caught Max off guard - a deep happiness that showed through only from time to time. Things might be looking up.

All thanks to fussy little Harrison Ford.