Disclaimer: Anything familiar to you, I don't own. This is a work of fanfiction for personal amusement, fulfillment and maybe a bit of self-therapy. I make nothing from any of it. Cheers.

Note: I promised to provide a brief summary of the prior chapter for any who felt that they could not consume media containing a minor suffering some assault at the hands of an adult. I have also promised not to be too detailed with my description of that event, so here we go. In chapter 18, Chloe has is confronted by her mother who learns from David that he saw her vehicle out of town. To her mother, Chloe reveals she was on a date with Rachel. Privately she considers that David is following her and, due to spotting Max in Frank's general vicinity some time ago, probably Max as well. As Rachel and Chloe continue to dance around the elephant in the room between them, they also meet on the morning of October 11th to figure out why Max won't leave her room. In an attempt to find out what is wrong, Chloe knocks on her and Max sends her away, not before expressing love, in brief. Chloe fears that Rachel is notably upset. After a few classes during which Chloe is distracted she meets with Rachel for lunch. As they head toward the cafeteria, Rachel says that her mother has texted her, noting that Sera has sent a letter for her. While the two of them celebrate this development, David pulls Chloe aside to question her, unfortunately he does so very physically, causing her some pain in the process. Chloe loses her cool and at what she thought was the end of the resulting argument, David attempts to strike her and is caught in the act by Ms. Grant. Chloe manages to convince Ms. Grant to hold her silence on the issue reasoning that David has friends in high places and if he ended up fired, things would only worsen for her.

Chapter Nineteen: Leto

October 11th, 2010- 8:47 PM

Rachel threw aside the text assigned for the next American History lesson's reading. Okay, I did not need that tonight. Her phone sat on the desk in front of her. Almost twelve hours later, Max had still not answered any messages and Chloe had clammed up hard after her run in with David. Rachel had been persistent enough to get the whole story from her, the one that the school would never get if Chloe got her way, but Chloe's silence the rest of the day and quick departure from campus disturbed her. She just wanted one of them to answer her messages. It was getting scary to know they were both upset enough to seclude themselves. Joyce's text asking if Rachel knew where Chloe was tonight lay unanswered. Rachel liked Joyce but she was kind of mad at the woman and there was no benefit to Chloe if she spoke her mind to her.

And on top of that, she thought, we have to read this shit. Rachel knew that the reason they had to read it was because it was absolutely required by curriculum and Mrs. Claire had gone out of her way to make it clear that she did not tolerate the language in the book, nor agree with it but it still bothered her. If there was ever any evidence to prove that without a doubt Blackwell was messed up as Chloe often asserted, it was that the book was allowed in the curriculum, much less required. 'African Migration to the Americas?' she thought, feeling gross having just read the line. Revisionist history strikes again. Rachel considered giving up for the night, already dressed in her pajama top and shorts. She was definitely not doing anymore studying between worrying about her girls and the disgusting subject matter.

Three sharp, quick knocks sounded from the door. She recognized the pattern and the insistence of the knocking and got up quickly. For a moment, her stomach turned as she remembered the after effects of Chloe's conversation with Max through the door that morning. She wasn't okay all day. Not that most of that probably doesn't fall on me… or David. Please, be okay, she thought as she opened the door to her room and, as expected, found Max standing in the hall, looking as if she had just taken a shower. Rachel turned her head when Max didn't immediately speak or even look at her. She tried to read the photographer's face but if there was anything written there Rachel wasn't picking it up. I don't think everything's okay. Though, the whole sequestering one's self in their bedroom might be a good marker of everything not being alright.

Her hair was still a bit damp and a total mess, her eyes were swollen. Most notably, a dried trail of blood went from her nose and down her chin, as if she hadn't even felt a nosebleed. She, too, was dressed for bed and hovered outside of the door with a pillow under one arm and a blanket pressed against that. Rachel knew what Max was going to ask before she asked it. It didn't make her hesitate any more but Rachel would have been a liar if she said she didn't stop for a moment and think about how Chloe might take her saying yes in response.

"I promise to be quiet," Max said, finally raising her eyes. "I just, really want to spend some time with you." Rachel sighed. It was out of compassion and concern but she saw that Max misunderstood the sound as soon as it came out of her. The girl started to turn away and Rachel reached out to take her by the shoulder immediately. "I just, I really don't think I should be alone tonight?" Rachel pulled her in lightly.

"You don't have to sit there and be quiet," Rachel told her, when Max finally started to enter. Rachel shut the door behind the girl, hoping no one who might ask questions had seen her. "I just didn't expect to hear from you," she said. "I didn't expect to hear from either of you tonight." Without bothering to clarify she took one more look at the blood on Max's face and reached to the box of tissues on the table beside her bed. Taking two or three in her hand she started to guide Max to sit down on the edge of the bed, when the girl spoke again.

"I need to be with someone I can stand to see today," she said, as if offering to explain why she would bother Rachel. Rachel wanted to shush her up, but part of her thought that maybe it was about something other than bothering someone and if Max had something she needed to say, well that just meant Rachel could help one of the people she cared about today. "I need to be with someone that won't make me feel like a monster just by looking at them." Max started to move when Rachel insistently nudged her toward the bed again. When Max was sitting, Rachel knelt in front of her briefly.

"Why would you feel like a monster, Max?" she asked, shaking her head and grinning up at her. "You're 500 pounds of badass in a hundred pound body." This did not earn so much as a smile. Max might have been looking in her direction but she almost seemed to be looking through her.

"I can't tell you," Max sibilated. It was almost quiet enough that Rachel missed it, but the girl added, "If I did I'd never be able to look you in the face again."

"Why would that be the case?" Rachel asked. "Listen, there's nothing you can do that's going to make Chloe or I turn our backs on you, you get that? Nothing that is going on is going to fuck up that we give a shit about you." This didn't feel or sound like it was about the whole thing going on between the three of them. Max wasn't doing anything wrong in that situation.

"Most of the time, I think an entirely different person did it," Max said. "It and so much else. But this was the worst. This here." Not making any sense, Rachel thought to herself. The monotone was beginning to waver. "But that can't be right because sometimes I remember it. And even when I don't remember it, I know about it. It's like a- a- like how you know to hold your breath in the water or to fear the dark."

"What is?" Rachel asked her, her voice firm. Max shook her head. "What do you remember?" This time Max squeezed her blue eyes shut. A thin trail of liquid passed from the corner of one down her cheek and Rachel gave up trying to get information from her. Slowly and carefully she lifted Max's head, causing the girl to open watering eyes in confusion. Rachel did her best to wipe away the dried blood across her upper lip and chin without pressing hard enough to tear the tissues in her hand. She'll need water to wash the rest off, but that's most of it. Max was watching her with eyes alive with too many things for Rachel to pick out at once.

"I'm not here to cause anymore trouble for you or Chloe," Max said when Rachel had discarded the tissue and settled down on the bed beside her. Despite this apparent self-awareness, Max leaned her head against Rachel's shoulder. "I know," Max told her. "I know it's my fault. If I could stop it I would. I just need to be near someone who I haven't really hurt yet. Someone who doesn't have a reason they should hate me." Rachel shook her head and tried to come up with a fitting response but Max pressed to her side was a bit on the distracting side. As far as things between Chloe and Rachel there was precedent for them being perfectly secure with each other being in physical touch with people who were just in need of a damned hug.

This was, however, a complex situation as Max pointed out herself. Even so, Rachel put an arm around the girl and pulled her into a tight one-armed hug. Max didn't move. She simply closed her eyes and slowly but surely her face grew a little more peaceful, just as it did when she was preparing to drift off to sleep. Well, that's fine, she thought, looking at Max's pillow and blanket on the bed beside her. We can set her up a place to sleep. Or maybe tonight she can take the bed, honestly.

"You want to lay down?" she asked Max.

"I'm tired but not that kind of tired," Max replied quietly. Then she laughed a little. "Okay, I'm that kind of tired, but I also just feel…" Rachel waited patiently. "I feel like a little bit of butter stretched over too much bread."

"Girl, did you just go all Bilbo Baggins on me?" Rachel asked her, putting enough distance between them that Max could see the incredulous look on her face. Max laughed again, this time more fully.

"Yeah," Max told her, "I guess I did."

"Everyone I know is such a fucking nerd," Rachel teased her, ruffling her already messy hair slightly. Max seemed to perk up a little at this. "Wanna watch something before we crash?"

"No," Max told her. "But you can. I'm feeling a little better just sitting right here. When you wanna lay down, I'll move to the floor and lay down, too." Rachel stood up.

"Well, I will put something on, anyway. Just something in the background." When Max nodded, Rachel paused and looked at her phone on her computer desk. "Max, something bad happened today." She turned back to see Max's face contorted in some kind of fear that Rachel didn't understand. "No, don't worry, everyone's okay," she said, taking a guess. "It's just that David almost hit Chloe today and she didn't go home after school and she's not answering her phone." The girl's face did change slightly. It was as if fear was a color instead of an emotion and this was a different shade of scared Max was wearing. I guess that is kind of how that works, Rachel thought. The cartoon cat on Max's top stood out oddly, smiling at Rachel during a time when it was as if no one was going to really smile again.

"Asshole," Max finally said, lip curling.

"That about sums him up."

The next morning they made no effort to hide the fact that Max had stayed in her room. Rachel wasn't in the mood for any bullshitting and she hadn't been about to set an alarm and wake either of them up early just to avoid people talking. If any Blackwell staff had anything to say about Max sleeping on her floor, she would just tell them she was looking out for a distraught friend. It had the benefit of being truth. It took the both of them a little more time than usual to get downstairs for breakfast: Max had to retrieve her clothes from her room and drop of fher pillow and blanket before she could shower. Rachel spent most of her early morning calling Chloe until she picked up and promised she would be at school and that she was alright.

Rachel spent most of the day trying to keep Max's and Chloe's moods up. For that matter, she spent a lot of it doing the same for herself, reminding herself that that evening she was supposed to meet her mother after practice and get the much anticipated letter from Sera. That thought as well as what time she got to spend with Chloe, Max, Steph or Mikey throughout the day kept her going enough that by the time play practice was scheduled to begin, she thought that even her flagging energy reserves were going to be sufficient to get through things.

"Fare thee well, nymph. Ere he doth leave this grove thou shalt fly him and he shall seek thy love." Chloe smiled imperiously toward one corner of the stage where an exit was most likely to be. Though the entire cast was sitting around the stage in the cooling night air most eyes were on Chloe. Frankly, Rachel thought that that should happen more often than it did. Chloe had managed to keep up a decent mood, even on the couple of occasions throughout the day when she spotted David across the campus. While sitting together before practice, Max had gotten the whole story out of Chloe, who had gotten the story of Max coming to stay in Rachel's room the night before in return. Rachel thought Max had brought it up intentionally so that maybe Chloe didn't think she was hiding something. Speaking of, Rachel thought as Max rose to her feet and approached Chloe. "Hast thou the flower there? Welcome wanderer."

Max was getting into the role of Puck in a new way. Maybe she was a bit of a late bloomer, but like Chloe she did not need to refer to her script most of the time. Then again, no one's as far along as Dana or Nathan, Rachel thought. Max moved toward Chloe, hand outstretched, a rather wild smile on her face. She played a version of Puck who was wholly enjoying herself. Perhaps it was due to having worn a lot of masks herself, but Rachel thought that maybe the two of them deserved to have parts of their characters grafted onto themselves. Chloe was happier when she was confident and decisive like Oberon and frankly Max could just do with a bit more enjoyment in life.

"Ay, there it is," Max proclaimed, holding her hand aloft. Rachel returned as she so often did when her thoughts wandered, to the complex situation blooming between them all. Despite their recent date and individual moments where they were close like they used to be, things were still strained between her and Chloe and all things told, Rachel wondered when the inevitable messy ending of whatever this was was going to hit. A part of her worried it crept closer the closer the play got. Their stress levels were all going to rise the closer it came to the day of the play.

An excellent example of the rising stress levels, she assumed, occurred a few minutes later as practice began to wind down. It was already fairly dark out and the air was exactly as crisp and cool as would be expected from an autumn day. Still that did nothing to keep Nathan's hot headed nature at bay. Quite out of nowhere, as Mr. Keaton was talking to them all about finalizing their costume choices before their next practice, Nathan got to his feet. The buzz cut works for him, Rachel admitted begrudgingly as he rose. Goes well with his attitude problem.

"It was so much better when we could just wear period clothing," Nathan exclaimed suddenly. "I can't come up with something modern that Egeus would wear. Why would I?" Quietly, Rachel wondered how long he'd been waiting to complain about this. Judging by the cool look on his face as he crossed his arms, almost demanding that the director answer him, it seemed like he was in control of himself. He was just being a drama queen. Catching her looking, Nathan squinted once in Rachel's direction, as if to challenge her to say something.

"Well," Mr. Keaton started, in a long suffering tone. "I am certain if you simply ask that your castmates here would be happy to help with ideas. We are, after all, our own little troupe." For a moment Nathan seemed to be trying to formulate a response but then, apparently having not heard what he wanted to hear, turned and leapt from the edge of the stage, stalking off into the night. Mr. Keaton sighed. "Well, alright," he called. "I suppose that means you are all free for the night. Go forth. Keep reading and remember, start bringing me your outfits." The man swept grey hair back on his head as if he was somehow warm. Rachel looked away to follow Nathan's path away from the stage, mostly out of curiosity, when she spotted another form, one she had been expecting for a few minutes already. Relaxing, Rachel stood up. Chloe and Max rose as if to join her and then Chloe hesitated.

"Hey, maybe you should talk to your mom alone this time," the bluenette told her, rubbing at her chin in thought. The artist turned toward Max. "Besides, I think I'll drag Max somewhere and chill out for a few minutes, if you've got the time."

"Sounds good," Max told her. Don't focus on this, Rachel told herself, hearing a note of earnest eagerness in the photographer's voice. Rachel turned back from them after shooting each a smile, feeling too distracted to speak. She left the girls on the stage and eased herself down. Her mother approached with her hands folded in front of her and her dark brown hair hanging loosely around her head. Rachel wondered why she was letting it grow out so much when she so rarely enjoyed having long hair. The thought passed fairly quickly, though, as her eyes landed on the envelope clutched in her mother's hand.

Even in the dim light from the stage rigging and from several feet away still, Rachel could see that the envelope hadn't been opened. She tensed up, slightly. Eventually, in silence, she stopped a couple of feet away from her mother and was drawn into a hug as a result. Rachel was surprised at herself when she grabbed at the woman in a tight hug. All the aggravation that lay between them could be boiled down to her refusal to kick James Amber out of the house. All of that mattered, but for that moment Rachel needed to put it aside. She needed to remember that her mother still loved her and she still loved her mother.

She felt slightly refreshed if not inexplicably more tired when they pulled apart a moment later. For a second she tried to read her mother's emotional state but found it difficult. The woman was already back under her 'prim and proper housewife' mask, which bothered Rachel enough under normal circumstances that seeing it here almost made her angry all over again. Instead of focusing on that or worrying too much if her mother was upset about her reconnecting with Sera, Rachel stepped back a bit and held out her hand. When she had the letter secure she did not rush off with it or tear it open like an eager child beneath the Christmas tree. She waited for her mom to speak because for the life of her she could not think of what to say to the woman.

"How've you been?" her mother asked, finally. Rachel relaxed because she knew what face to wear and what words to speak. Though she could not quite stop herself from clutching the envelope to her chest, she shot a soft smile to her mother.

"Everything's been alright. I've been doing fine in classes and the play is going great." As she watched she saw the woman searching her for lies. She knew her mother wouldn't find those lies. It should have been heartbreaking but it wasn't. It simply was what it was.

"Everyone getting their lines downpat?" she asked, smiling. Rachel tried her best to answer with more information, this time. Anything to seem more engaged than awkward, even though that was precisely what she was. Chloe had once gone three days without seeing her mother and talked about how awkward it was to talk to her after that. Rachel hadn't spoken to hers in weeks.

"Chloe had a little trouble for a while. Our friend Max, too, but they're probably ahead of most people now. I think we'll pull it off in time. The worst part is the singing. No one who is supposed to sing can actually sing." She pretended to lean in conspiratorially and whispered, "just don't tell any of them I said that." For a moment it looked like her mother was going to give a smile at her attitude but then that moment passed and Rachel floundered about for something else to say, something to fill the silence or avoid the querying eyes. "Chloe tries, but a heart in the right place only goes so far. I bet she could if she had some practice but, it happens."

"How are you and Chloe?" Rachel swallowed.

"It uh- it varies from day to day," she answered. This time there was no extra attempt at clarity. "You know, I think you'd like our friend Max," Rachel told her. "She takes awesome photos. I could ask her to give me one she took of us for you, if you'd like."

"That would be really nice," her mother replied. "I look forward to meeting her." This time, Rose Amber shifted beneath her light jacket, as if to suggest she was getting cold. "Rachel, I want us to talk again and I mean really talk."

"Mom," Rachel started, dropping the facade. "I- I guess as long as my father is not a subject of conversation, then I'm fine." That seemed to be agreeable enough for her mother, who announced plans to pick her up for lunch next weekend. Rachel was relieved that she would at least have some time to prepare before the awkward gathering. In the end she excused herself from the situation as politely as possible. She wanted to read the letter in Chloe's company but by the time she got back to the dorms, Chloe had already left. Instead, sitting in Max's computer chair, Rachel allowed herself to dig into the letter from Sera. Whether she would talk about it or not remained to be decided.

Rachel,

I've thought a lot about what to say to you and how. I know it's been a while and this is not what you wanted. You wanted to know more about me and more about your past. The thing is, I simply could not risk exposing you to me if I wasn't going to be able to take control of my life again. That man robbed me of that control and it has been difficult to find it this time. I know you won't understand and whether you believe it or not, that is for the best. I am grateful that you do not understand what this is, what this is like. I hope dearly that you never do. Rachel, I am so sorry you had to learn about your father in this manner. I am sorry that you have had him taken away from you. I never wanted to do that to you. I just wanted to know you.

I still do.

I've come to gather that you're a pretty strong person already, so even though you don't owe me it, I'm going to ask you to stay strong just a little longer. Give me time to find out if I can find my footing again. I would say 'beat this' but it will never truly be gone. That's not how this works. I just have to stand up against it again. It sounds pathetic to say but, that is not easy. Have some patience with me and I'll do my best to tell you everything you want to know.

Sera

This night, it was Rachel who wanted to stay close to Max.

Mabgzl vatgzx. Maxr zxm uxmmxk hk phklx wxixgwbgz hg max wtr. Mabl cnlm zhxl mh ltr matm maxr whg'm vatgzx. B tf nglnkx ykhf hgx wtr mh max gxqm tuhnm pah B tf. Max ixhiex B ehox zh hg pbmahnm atobgz t venx. B ptmva maxf wxte pbma max vkti bg maxbk eboxl tgw B kxzkxm inmmbgz fbgx hg maxf. Ktvaxe mkbxl mh ux t khvd unm mabgzl tkx ghm ixkyxvm yhk axk. Vaehx mkbxl mh abwx axk yknlmktmbhg tgw itbg unm ghmabgz bl hdtr yhk axk kbzam ghp, xqvxim matm ftrux lax'l dbvdbgz tll tm extkgbgz axk khex bg max ietr. B yxxe ebdx B lahnew wh lhfxmabgz tuhnm Wtobw, unm B whg'm dghp patm.