Kaukasos

by TheOV

Two nights after Firewalk, Chloe stood on stage, accepting her descent into the madness of Rachel Amber's life, but out there in the crowd, Max Caulfield's face awaited her. Struggling to navigate life at Blackwell, Chloe, Rachel and Max face curve balls, blooming romances and all three of them are plagued by demons from without and within.

25. Interlude III: Queen has been Overthrown

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

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Interlude III: Queen has been Overthrown

February 23rd, 2011 - Early Evening

On the, frankly, insufficient screen of her laptop, the leading characters of the film shared a brief kiss. Instinctively, Chloe's eyes slid past Rachel, to Max. At that very moment, Max looked toward the ground. Paired with the rest of Max's behavior that day, this made Chloe's stomach drop. She turned from the screen and glanced once around the rest of her bedroom. For the most part, the floor was nice and clear. This was a side effect of her having packed up almost everything she owned that wasn't related to schoolwork or sleeping. The walls would have been clear, too, if not for the occasional photo taped up along them. Max, historically, had taken a lot of photos throughout the school year. Chloe and Rachel had gotten their hands on a handful of those Max hadn't felt the desire to keep. Originally this had been much to her dismay, as she considered those to be 'generally bad' but Max had gotten used to the idea that on occasion a photo she found bad struck Chloe or Rachel as a cherished memory. Chloe didn't want to think about how many of those had found their way into a pile that Max would never look at again. She had too little faith in her own skill.

Today, though, Chloe's worry was not so much on Max's photography but on the apparent sudden shift in her feelings toward romantic connections with her and Rachel. Chloe's eyes traveled over the other two. Where Chloe sat on the end of her bed, Rachel was perched in Chloe's computer chair and Max seemed to rest on the very edge of a crate which a much, much younger Chloe had once stored toys in. Chloe couldn't remember the name of the film they were watching but on Netflix it had rated a grand total of two stars. In her limited experience with Netflix, that was usually a good sign. Frankly, if a movie had anything resembling good character development or a plot an insane amount of people tended to rate it low. Chloe wasn't sure what it said about society at large. All told, the afternoon would be almost cozy if it weren't for the elephant in the room with them. Quite out of nowhere almost an hour prior, Max had gone out of her way to separate herself from the two of them as far as space in the room and when Chloe tried to comfort her, they all found out that she most certainly could not be touched. While it was not something Chloe begrudged her it had come entirely out of nowhere. That made it slightly concerning. Equally concerning, though, was that any implication of intimacy, even between Chloe and Rachel, seemed to make her uncomfortable. That hadn't been the case even before she and Rachel had come to the conclusion that they could approach Max about their mutual interest in her.

Even if Max was feeling like a snugglebug there's not exactly anywhere all three of us can sit and really see the screen well. Even where Chloe was sitting was not so great for making out certain details. Her room, whatever else it was, was large enough that one did not sit on the edge of the bed and see that little screen so clearly. For the most part, Max watched the film like either them-well, like she and Rachel would have if they were not shooting frequent glances at Max-but on occasion the situation changed. Chloe actually thought Rachel had caught on first to the way that sometimes Max would be facing toward the screen but her eyes would go kind of out of focus and her face would blank shortly after. Chloe had first been tipped off by the sliding of Rachel's eyes from the screen to Max's I Have Seen All face, after all. The second time Chloe noticed this, she had offered in a quiet voice, one made as soothing as she knew how to speak, to take Max back to the dormitories early. When that idea had been shot down, Chloe's attempt at comfort, reaching out and patting Max on the shoulder had been absolutely rejected so quickly that Max had bumped into a wall. This was how they first learned Max was not in the mood to be touched. The girl's promise to explain as soon as she knew how had been very little comfort but there was just not much Chloe thought she could do but wait with crossed fingers. It was hard to even offer comfort because if either she or Rachel spoke with even a vaguely caring tone Max went quiet and seemed to try to shrink into herself. She looks sick to her stomach, Chloe thought, eyes drawn away from the screen again.

Chloe and Rachel shared a conversation of silent glances at one another, the kind that consisted of intentions and emotions. The quiet of the sparse room was punctured only by the film that Chloe was coming to suspect not one of the three of them were paying any attention to. Rachel was clearly as worried as Chloe but there was something else the way she glanced at the photographer: a helpless air. She wants to do something or she wants me to do something but neither of us have a damn clue. Max doesn't talk about the things that go on in her head. At least, she didn't in a lot of detail and very rarely in the moment. Chloe was beginning to feel helpless herself when two knocks sounded at the door. At least in this way she knew it was her mother coming in and not David. He didn't bother to knock: if the door was unlocked he simply came in. If it was locked, he would usually grumble at the door.

"Chloe," her mother called through the door. "David says you should probably get the girls back to the school before curfew." Curfew's in an hour and a half, Chloe thought, glancing down at the phone in her lap. The urge to bring this up was silenced when she saw relief on Max's face across the room. Oh, shit. So, Max hadwanted to go back the whole time, yet wouldn't take the offer when Chloe made it. Still, she's not doing good. Sleep might help. Or maybe she'll be able to tell us what's going on tomorrow?

"Absolutely," Chloe called toward the door, her voice steadier than she expected. "We'll take off in just a minute." She rose from the edge of the bed, planning to spit some line about them finishing the film next time, but she couldn't quite find the words as the springs squeaked their discontent. Max was on her feet before Chloe reached the desk and shut her laptop. The girl stepped away from them both as she stood. There was no attempt made at looking like she was doing anything other than waiting.

"I probably should do some reading before bed and I need to come up with some kind of excuse to give Mrs. Drewer about the photo essay." Chloe grimaced and pretended for a second to be sifting through the contents of her desk as Rachel stood, too. Her stalling was probably obvious but this was the most information either she or the blonde beside her had gotten out of Max in hours. The idea that she was starting to slip in her work, especially in one of her favorite subjects was disturbing. What a difference a week makes. Chloe grabbed the keys she was pretending to have lost sight of from the desk and winked at them both as if to say, 'let's go.'

It was, honestly a hell of a turn around from just eight days ago. At times Chloe found herself grinning at the memory of the stolen night at that club. Rachel was the one among them who actually knew how to dance. Chloe had taken more than one opportunity to watch her teaching a very open Max, to watch the two of them talking from a distance, to watch doors opening and walls falling. Even with the din from dudebros and crappy tunes, the brief visit to the club had chased away so many concerns and woes (not to mention memories of the wedding that morning) that it would have been hard for Chloe to imagine that in just over a week they would be here. She exhaled slowly and as quietly as she could as they passed the bottom steps. David did not seem intent on sulking about by the doors, though she could hear him in the garage.

"Bye, Joyce," Rachel called. Max's half-hearted salutation followed but Chloe didn't particularly feel like giving her mother time to respond. When she made for the truck, the garage door was up. Chloe wasn't sure if it was her imagination or not, but as she settled into the driver's seat she thought David was staring at them.Why else would the garage door be up in fucking February, she thought. Chloe considered, very briefly, responding in kind but her attention was drawn very quickly from her step-father to the girls who were still outside the truck. Max and Rachel were paused outside the now open passenger door as if unsure how to proceed. Max gestured with one hand for Rachel to get in first, and Chloe watched her do so, grinning to her when she settled close to Chloe. The grin was not licentious. It was a poor attempt at comfort. Rachel did not return the smile though she did lightly bump Chloe's shoulder with her own. When the door shut behind Max, Chloe glanced toward her once to see the photographer balancing her bag in her lap and leaning right against the door of the truck.

"We're not going to bite," Rachel told her, having noticed this behavior. "Max, you can relax."

"I'm not scared of you , " the brunette replied, her tone insisting that the very idea was absurd. She made eye contact with one of them for the first time since they got to the house. Chloe watched the two hold gazes for a second. " For you." Chloe waited for her to continue, remaining quiet. She was going to leave it to Rachel to push farther on this if she wanted, Chloe did not want to. The idea of potentially isolating Max further was too much to risk. Chloe caught herself running her left hand through her hair in frustration and shook her head, starting the vehicle. Max said nothing more as the engine called out and then rumbled to life. Rachel patted Chloe's right knee soothingly.

Despite the absurdity of it, Chloe caught herself worrying about Max's state again and again throughout the trip to the dorms. There was nothing she could do without more information from Max and yet the idea of just letting it all lie was beyond her. Chloe was beginning to feel frustrated by the time they reached the school. Chloe slowed to a stop out front, as she rarely bothered to drop them in the parking lot. As soon as truck was still, Max pushed the passenger door open. Chloe hadn't even had time to put the truck in park. She watched the blonde beside her, clearly as taken aback by the suddenness at which the photographer jumped out of the truck. That was the first time that Chloe began to suspect that this was no small issue for them to work past. Her stomach seemed to sink deep inside her. The brunette hesitated, pulling her jacket tighter around her as her feet hit the sidewalk.

"Max," Chloe started, leaning toward the still open passenger door "I-"

"Sorry," Max spoke over her, grimacing. The photographer swallowed once against nothing and then turned and almost fled up the stairs from the sidewalk. Chloe sat stunned as she watched Max's form grow smaller and smaller in the distance. Well, okay then, she thought, confused. Rachel further added to her momentary confusion by climbing halfway back into the truck and placing a kiss on her cheek before backing out and shutting the door.

"Chloe?" Rachel said. Chloe wasn't sure if she had reacted at all to Rachel's affection or just sat there lost in the bad feeling working its way through her churning gut. "Text me when you get home, okay?" the blonde asked her. Chloe nodded dumbly and then blinked to kind of clear her mind.

"You get some sleep tonight, okay?" Chloe asked in response. This time Rachel shot her a smile which did nothing to make Chloe forget that the thespian had been having sleep issues. When Chloe only glared, she eventually relented.

"I'll try," Rachel promised. Chloe sat with her emergency blinkers on for several seconds and watched Rachel amble out of sight. Once she could no longer see the girl, there was nothing for it but to start toward home. If, she thought as she merged into traffic, I can keep calm and not start freaking out about everything, I can probably get the next drawing done for Mikey's going away present. Last weekend's session had provided ample opportunity for a scene to draw, especially involving Mikey's dwarf druid, Gor (or Gord, depending on who was addressing him.) Fuck it, maybe a mid-transformation sketch. I haven't gotten to do that. Half dwarf, half bear? He did transform when we ended up against those Thralls. This was all distraction enough that Chloe pulled into the driveway of the Madsen household (the garage door is down, I notice ) and turned off her truck in a lot better of a mood. At least, it was better until she got halfway out of the vehicle and remembered she was supposed to text Rachel.

Me

I'm home, safe and sound. Everything okay?

Rachel

With me, yes. With Max, fuck no. I stopped by her room before I went back to my own. I could hear her crying through the door. At least, I think it was crying. She was also kind of yelling at nothing.

Me

What was she saying?

Rachel

Nothing she was just yelling.

Me

I guess she's not doing as well as we thought

Rachel

Kinda freaked.

Me

Me too. There's probably nothing we can do tonight. I think I'm going to go take a shower.

Rachel

I'm gonna see if she'll let me in

Me

Okay, good luck, I'll text when I'm done

Chloe sighed, leaning back in the seat. Feeling powerless to help people who needed it was becoming all too familiar a sentiment. She did not care for it.

February 25th, 2011 - 4:40 PM

Rachel crossed her arms tight across her chest. She didn't want to be feeling this, but on top of the concern there was some aggravation. And the shrink said you're not supposed to run from your emotions, Rachel. The aggravation was not at Max for feeling however she was feeling, it was more for her absolute refusal to open the fucking door . Beside Rachel, Chloe looked a little haggard. It had not been the best day of classes for either of them. On top of an untimely test they both had to deal with at different points in the day, there was the matter of the fact that so many people kept asking the two of them about Max's second absence of the week. No one had even seen her come out of the room since she and Rachel had gotten back to the dormitories a couple of days before. If she's coming out at all, it's while everyone's dead asleep. I don't think we can come up with any more excuses to hold everyone off, either.

She hadn't told Chloe but it was possible the girl knew anyway that rumors were starting to go around, that Max's seclusion was the result of some failed attempt to pull Rachel and Chloe apart. No one who was passing the rumor on could seem to agree whether she was trying to take Rachel from Chloe or the other way around. No one who was passing the rumor on would voice it within earshot of Rachel, either. She had found out the hard way from both Steph and Mikey. I get it, gossip's worth its weight in gold, but this is serious. It was no secret that whatever was going on, Max had been heard having something of a breakdown on the night of the 23rd and since then had been silent except for, according to some, tears.

"Max," Rachel tried, having gotten nothing from glaring at the wooden door except an inkling of a concern that she might make it burst into flames.

"Please, guys," came Max's answer from beyond the door. "Just go away, I'm trying to figure this out." She knew that Max wouldn't see her response, but the pleading tone in the girl's voice paired with nearing two days of being incommunicado was enough to make Rachel think they couldn't give in this time. She shot one glance at Chloe. It was all she needed to see similar determination in the girl's pale blue eyes. Rachel lowered herself to the ground carefully and Chloe sat beside her. "You're still out there, aren't you?"

"Duh," Chloe responded. "Are you going to let us in?"

"No," Max insisted from behind the wooden door. "I wish you could get it, I wish you understood." Down the hall Dana emerged from her room and gave a brief wave of greeting before she realized what must have been happening. Rachel returned the subsequent nod and watched the girl leave. She shrugged her jacket off and rested it in her lap, intent on sticking around. Okay, Rachel told herself, try some of that emotional honesty the doc is always telling you about.

"Max," Rachel told her, "I am fucking scared for you." She did not bother to keep her voice down. There was no need. At this point Max was being talked about fairly often and in far less flattering ways than what Rachel had just said. "Literally no one has actually seen you in two days. You don't answer your phone and I knowyou don't have any food in that little fridge." What she didn't mention was what she knew was in there, besides a few cokes. The idea that Max might have locked herself in the room and done little more than drink was concerning. "You're scaring me and I don't know if you've caught onto this or not, yet, but I'm kind of a badass so that's hard to do." She did not get so much as a pity laugh from behind the door. "We need to know something about what's going on because otherwise we have to assume the worst

"And right now," Chloe added, pulling her hat down lower on her head, "that's pretty fucking bad. Especially if you haven't been eating." Several seconds passed in silence and Chloe seemed to get irritated or upset, Rachel wasn't sure which, but the girl's entire posture changed and she began to fidget with her backpack.

"I feel scared and guilty, no ashamed ," Max finally admitted from the other side of the door. "Also confused. Really confused." Her voice was hoarse but not enough to disguise the exhaustion lacing each word. It did nothing to calm Rachel's fears.

"What," Chloe asked, barely keeping the edge from her voice, "if it's about the whole '3 person' thing, you've got to ignore that shitty programming."

"No," Max clarified, quickly and forcefully. "Not that. Yes that, but not that."

"This would all go easier if you let us in."

"No." The denial was fearful. For the first time, as Rachel turned her head toward Chloe, she realized that maybe whatever was going on with Max's emotional state-whatever had always been going on-was too big for either she or Chloe to actually help with. She resisted the urge to suggest Max see a therapist. It's helping me, I think. Then again, Rachel had been having some difficulty falling asleep at night.

"We can't do anything without more information," Rachel tried.

"I've been keeping things from you," the photographer responded. "A lot of things." No shit, Rachel thought. What's new? "One of them is that I kind of-" her voice trailed off and Rachel looked down when she felt Chloe's hand settle on top of her own. She smiled to the girl and waited for Max to start speaking again, muffled as it would be through the door to her dorm room. "One of them is that I don't think I know who I am." Okay, maybe whatever's going on is a lot bigger than the two of us can help with.

"What do you mean, Max? Because I know who you are, and I'll tell you, every detail," Chloe was leaning forward, her voice dropping low, speaking only an inch or two away from the door. "But you'll want to let me in for that one, because some of those details are very embarrassing. I grew up with you, remember?" The door didn't open. Whether it was an actual gambit of Chloe's or something else Rachel wasn't sure.

"Sometimes, I think I'm one person," Max continued. "Sometimes I think I'm another." Rachel was able to hear the photographer exhale shakily. "Last week, when I decided I was ready for-you know, us, I was sure that time about which it was. Now, now I'm not. Because if I am her, then how? I shouldn't be! That's not how this works. That's not how it's ever worked. And if I'm not? If I'm the other one… I shouldn't be with you two. It's wrong for like, a hundred fucking reasons." She's starting not to make a lot of sense, Rachel thought to herself, Unless… .

"Before I met Chloe I wore masks everywhere," Rachel told her. She knew Max would understand the metaphor, she had used it before. "I was barely my own person. I just kept doing whatever it took to fit in, to make everyone like me because I didn't really like myself or know how to. I didn't really know who I was until Chloe came around and yeah, I wasn't the girl she thought I was, either but…. She doesn't compromise who she is and I needed to see that someone could do that. Sometimes I still don't think I know who I am, though." Am I getting through to her or am I way off base. "I think it happens to everyone."

"This isn't like that," Max told her. Rachel deflated slightly. "I mean, almost but not really." Max went right back to her last attempt at explaining. "If I'm the first person, that makes no sense. She should be gone. I want to be her, but it doesn't make sense. If I'm the second, then I- then I'm a fucking monster and you should all stay away from me."

"I don't know what's going on," Chloe said, "but the girl I've been spending all this time with is no monster. She's one of my two best friends and someone I fucking love . If I'm any kind of judge of character, she's no fucking monster."

"Or maybe, you two have been tricked," Max replied. "Maybe I've been tricking you both from the start and then I started tricking myself."

"Honey, you're a genius but you're not that tricky," Rachel assured, piping up louder.

"There's lots of things you two don't know," Max said. Rachel crossed her arms again, this time more for comfort than to express any frustration. Beside her, Chloe withdrew her hand, removed her beanie and worked it once or twice through her hair.

"Try me," Chloe finally responded.

"The storm wasn't just a nightmare," Max said. "It was a memory." That makes no sense, Rachel thought, feeling more and more troubled by the second. Is she on something? Should we be calling someone or what? "If you guys will just give me one more day, I promise to get my shit together tomorrow." Rachel shook her head, even though the gesture would go unnoticed. There was no way in hell she was just walking away from Max without some assurances. Chloe, on the other hand, had a look on her face as if considering sleeping in that spot. This isn't going to go well for anyone if someone doesn't compromise right now.

"You'll have to meet us halfway first," Rachel said. "If you want us to go away and trust you to be okay, you're going to have to meet us halfway."

"Okay?" Max prompted. The photographer sounded desperately relieved as if some great weight had just been taken off her chest and she could breathe again. Chloe frowned at her. Rachel looked away from the artist and toward the door, as if it were Max herself speaking to them.

"We're going to go away for a few minutes and give you time to… compose yourself," she hated using a phrase borrowed from her mother. "Then we're coming back with food and you're going to open that fucking door, let us come in with the food and make sure you eat something, and then we'll fuck off." A very conflicted noise sounded from beyond the door. "How long has it been since you ate anything? Liquid potato doesn't count." Max did not confirm nor deny her suspicions about the drink. She didn't say anything. "That's what I thought," Rachel told her.

"And when's the last time you slept?" Chloe asked before Rachel could say anything further. She knew the question was directed at Max but it made Rachel feel immediately guilty about her pitiful four hours the night before. The one thing none of them needed was Rachel dropping because she wasn't sleeping.

"I-I don't actually know," Max told her. I never thought I'd miss the days when she slept too much when she was upset. Rachel grimaced at the door and then pulled her jacket on, rising slowly to stand. Chloe followed, dusting her jeans off. "I'm sure I'll be fine."

"You will," Chloe told her, "after food and rest and then we'll talk more."

"So we're going to come back with food and something to help you sleep and you're going to open the doors, eat something or I'm going to post up outside your door all night and Chloe's going to let slip to her mother how worried she is about you." The second threat felt petty but it might be enough to make Max realize how serious they were about this.

"You wouldn't," Max challenged, a bit of fire coming back into her voice.

"What is it your beloved Picard said?" Chloe asked, "'You may test that assumption at your convenience.'"

"I'm more of a Sisko girl myself," Max replied. After a pause during which Rachel wanted nothing more than to knock the door down and drag her out of the room, Max finally answered. "Okay. I'll open up."

"We'll be back," Rachel promised her. "We'll always be back."

"I know you will," Max told her. The hollow tone in her voice did little to comfort Rachel as Chloe lightly nudged her toward the door at the end of the hall. I should've just told her, Rachel thought. Should've just said it.

"Alright," Chloe continued, once she was sure they were out of earshot. "That was kind of intense. "

"Yeah," Rachel wasn't sure what else to say at first, but thankfully as they descended the stairs, Chloe was in go mode.

"We'll do this right: swing by the diner for a couple burgers and some fries and maybe a shake, and then the drug store." Rachel raised an eyebrow at the other girl, something Chloe only noticed when she looked back as Rachel had slowed behind her. "There's got to be some kind of over-the-counter sleep aid. She isn't making any sense, so it's probably been a day and some change since she slept. She has got to get some rest." Chloe stared at her, pointedly. Rachel dipped her head and continued following her. "How much did you get?"

"Like, four or five hours?" Rachel responded, obfuscating a bit as she really did not want to add to Chloe's worries. "Look, if the stuff there's that good, I'll try some tonight." Chloe shook her head in slow, shallow motions. She looked disappointed, which actually hurt a little. "I'm trying."

"But you won't tell me why you can't sleep and see how that's going for Max?" Chloe challenged.

"It's like, a lot of things all at once. I just keep laying there and thinking. It doesn't stop." It sounded lame to say, 'I can't sleep because I can't stop thinking' but that was really all there was to it. The thoughts could be about almost anything but one thing was for sure, it all came down to things that were stressing her out. The past couple of days, Max had taken up a fair amount of thought but even before then it could have been anything. "Did you understand even a bit of what she was saying?" Rachel asked, hoping for a change of subject and some clarity.

"I understand that something's going on in her head that is way worse than I thought," Chloe finally said, turning from the path they were on to make their way toward the stairs. A sound met Rachel's ears, that of a camera shutter. Rachel slowed, turning to look behind herself. Max? There was nothing. The path was clear. When she turned back around to see if someone was ahead of them, maybe, who could be responsible for the sound, Chloe was still waking. Okay, you're imagining shit. She sped up.

"Just, what could possibly make Max, of all people, think she's a monster?" Chloe slowed this time and glanced back at her. It was a rare occasion that Chloe gave her the 'I'm not sure if you're slow or deluding yourself' look. "What?"

"I've caught her having nightmares about Merrick," Chloe told her. "That's probably it. I mean, no one's seen him since that day. Frank won't talk about it, but I mean, we all know." Rachel swallowed. That was definitely a possibility, but the way Max spoke it was as if there were several reasons. She seemed genuinely afraid of herself. If you thought you helped kill someone, wouldn't you be? "In the end he was just saving our lives. That fucker would have just came back after us, or worse, us and Sera." Rachel frowned at the tone in Chloe's voice. She didn't sound sure of what she was saying. Rachel reached out and took Chloe's hand.

"Come on," she told the girl. "We've got food to get. I could go for some, myself." I hope Chloe's wrong. I hope that's not what's going on, because I have no idea how to help that.

February 27th, 2011 - 5:27 PM

Chloe felt like today, finally, she might be able to get some answers from the girl beside her. True to her word, Max had pulled it together as best she could after Rachel and Chloe returned with food and even managed to cajole her into taking a shower before bed. (Max had not, as of yet, given sign that she had noticed that her hidden bottle of booze was nowhere to be found.) While this meant that she returned to the world of the living somewhat, she had not been in shape for tabletop that night and slept through most of the day after. Today, two days farther down the line, the photographer was curled up against Chloe's side with little apparent surety that she was some kind of monster.

Chloe didn't care that at any point David could come home, banging on the door and demanding to know why it was locked. All that mattered to her was that Max had come somewhat back to her senses and apparently wanted comfort that Chloe could offer. She could do very little else to actually help Max at this point and she was not going to begrudge her an arm around her for the sake of not annoying David. Chloe rolled carefully over and in response Max simply shifted closer to her and asked in a soft whisper if her arm was hurting. Having suspected the girl of falling asleep minutes ago, this was somewhat surprising. Chloe told her no, despite the fact that it was a bit of a lie.

"When was the last time you and I just got to hang out, just us?" Chloe asked her, smiling when Max opened her eyes.

"Back when we wouldn't have been doing this," the brunette replied, lips curving briefly upward into a smile she had not shown in a few days before she scooted somewhat closer to Chloe. Well, that's probably true, Chloe decided. As if she had read Chloe's mind earlier about her desire for answers, Max's face grew a little more serious. I guess she can never stay relaxed for long. I want that to not be a thing, someday. "I'm sorry you two had to see me like that. I never meant for it to be a public thing." Chloe would hardly call the three of them public but she reached out with her free hand.

"We learned the hard way that not talking about these things makes them so much worse," Chloe told the girl. A gesture she had grown accustomed to when she wasn't sure what to say, was to simply wipe a lock of hair behind Rachel's ear, a show of affection. With Max's shorter post-Thanksgiving hairstyle, that wasn't particularly possible, but it did not stop Chloe from resting her right hand on the girl's cheek. She grinned when Max took hold of it and pressed her lips against it. If anyone was going to melt her cold, dead heart it was going to be Rachel and Max. She did not immediately answer. "We just don't know how much we can do to help you, without understanding more." Max did not shift positions, did not let go of her hand and the slightly content look on her face went nowhere.

"Have you ever heard of imposter syndrome?" Max asked. When Chloe shook her head the girl continued, voice low, soft, caring. "Some people, usually successful ones, get it. No matter what they do or how well they do it, they just feel like fakes. You actually see it in a lot of artists and actors. They think everything they have in life comes down to some twist of fate or some lucky moment, but nothing they did."

"Is that what it's like?" Chloe asked, seizing on the idea. This, this she could understand.

"Not really," Max replied, and then laughed as Chloe's face fell slightly. Chloe didn't feel laughed at in a bad way, so she simply waited for Max to continue, patiently. "But I think it might be a little similar in some ways. It's just," Max sighed. "Sometimes I can actually produce, tangible, logical reasons as to why I must be this other person, this horrible person."

"I wish I knew more, I wish I could help."

"I know you do," Max replied. "But I'm scared that if I tell you or Rachel even half of it…" This time Max scooted slightly away from her so that she could tilt her head up and look Chloe in the eyes. "Right now, I think I know who I am. I think I'm the first person, this decent person who maybe makes stupid choices and fucks up a lot but... " Max shrugged. "Even right now, though, if I told you half of what I think that other person is and why I think it, I can't even imagine how you'd react, how Rachel would." The brunette's fingers intertwined with her own and Chloe stayed shut up and listened. In this moment, though, Chloe got the feeling again that this was how it was meant to be. They were meant to be together, in whatever form the relationship ended up taking and however long it lasted. Who the fuck knows? "Sometimes it really is like being two different people. Or thinking you are."

"So, sometimes the other person and the things you say she did come back?" Max shook her head.

"That's the fucked up part," Max told her. "If she's gone then she's actually gone. It's just that sometimes I can't decide if she is. It's like there's an echo of her and it feels like having a finger pointed at you and being told you're sick. You're fucking sick." There was such loathing and disgust in her voice that Chloe couldn't do anything other than move closer and embrace her fully. Max's face pressed against her shoulder as her arms tightened around Chloe. She stayed calm, though, and Chloe released her eventually. "I can never be sure, or maybe I can but not for long. Right now, I am sure, but I know it's going to pass. I know it'll be different. Maybe tomorrow, maybe next week."

"Would it help any if I said that I don't think you're any kind of monster, that you make Rachel and I really fucking happy?" Max nodded, then shook her head and shrugged.

"It means everything to me, but if I'm not me, it doesn't mean shit." I wish I knew what to say, what to do. Chloe stayed there, like that, and watched as Max's face changed from that of someone considering what to say next to someone giving in to something. Her eyes eventually slid closed. This close, Chloe could again count the freckles on the girl's face. This time she did so silently with her eyes. She did not bother interrupting: if Max was going to fall asleep, that was fine by her. Short of kicking down her door and lighting the fuse on the bomb buried beneath them both, David was not in a position to catch them like this. Chloe caught her hand running through Max's hair softly at one point but did not stop it, as it likely contributed to the content smile on the photographer's face or her steady, even breath.

Later tonight I'm going to ask her to see someone. Maybe after she wakes up.

Chloe wasn't sure exactly what it was the drew her away from the world of the waking. There was warmth at her side, a comfortable enough bed beneath her and a low sort of sunlight pouring in through the windows. Maybe a combination of all of these had worked together to lure her to sleep. Maybe it was simply the relative calm of the moment when there had not been a ton of calm in a few days. Either way, before she had any good measure of what was happening, Chloe was not lying on her bed beside Max. She was standing a couple of feet from her in a cramped kitchen that Chloe didn't recognize.

Almost as soon as Chloe realized that she was somewhere, she knew it was a dream. This was not strictly how it usually went but Chloe couldn't really stop to marvel about this difference. She was, instead, intent on understanding where she was. The kitchen floor was old, yellowed linoleum with black diamond shapes splayed across it. The cabinets hanging around them might have been painted a heinous seafoam green at one point, but the paint was chipped so significantly it was hard to be sure. In the center of the room, apparently the newest thing in it, was a cheap folding table with similarly temporary looking chairs.

Max was settled down at one of those, her back to Chloe, clearly up to something. A familiar looking gray hooded sweatshirt covered her frame and, even from the back, Chloe could see that her hair was long again, though not quite as long as Chloe recalled. This Max might be an entirely memory based one, or it could beMax herself. Chloe wasn't sure. She knew, reasonably, that she needed to tell Max she was here, but curiosity got the better of her. Chloe turned back. There was a living room behind her, unfamiliar. She would have assumed this was Max's home back in Seattle except that it looked too old, too small, too cheap.

The walls of the living room were almost as yellowed as the kitchen's linoleum floor. An old television sat in one corner of the room not far from a threadbare grey couch, flanked on either side by a couple of tables. The carpet lining the living room floor looked like it hadn't seen an update since the 1970s. Chloe could see the edge of a hallway on the far side of the living room, but judging by the unnatural darkness mere inches behind the entrance, Chloe suspected if she tried to go down the hall she would find nothing. Something clicked behind her, and Max began to mutter. Chloe exhaled slowly, and turned back. Max's back was still to her, she had apparently not seen or heard Chloe. This made it seem unlikely that this might be Max herself, but Chloe had spied on this dream, in this tiny, old apartment long enough. She had two choices: she could either leave the dream, as she had learned she could do, or she could try to identify herself to Max. She had never particularly attempted to reach out to the mind of someone sleeping like this before and curiosity got the better of her.

"Who are you? Who are you? Why can't I just figure it out? Piece by piece, but the pieces don't fit." At the impromptu kitchen table ahead of her, the odd clicking continued, Max spoke to herself quietly. A fridge to one side of the room drew Chloe's attention. Maybe there was something in there that could help break the ice. She did not attempt to hide her presence as she crossed to the fridge. At this point, Max spoke again. This time her voice did not sound from the table to Chloe's left, instead it sounded from the living room behind her.

"Bring me a beer, would you Chloe?" Chloe jumped, her hand still on the door to the refrigerator. "Don't worry about it, Blair said to tap into hers. There's plenty to go around." In the living room, lit only by light from the previously dead television, a Max Caulfield, slightly older, looked expectantly at her. Beside her on the couch, a woman Chloe didn't recognize reclined. Thick, wild dark hair hung around this woman as if in defiance of any attempts to tame it. She was reclining slightly, hands behind her head, wearing a peaceful grin. She, too, was staring at Chloe. Only they wasn't looking at her, but through her to yet another Chloe Price, one Chloe had last seen at the height of a nightmare, a nightmare involving a storm. (' The storm wasn't just a nightmare.' )

"Chlobro, hurry it up, I wanna see Deckard give Roy what's coming to him," the woman, Blair called. She's about to be disappointed, Chloe thought, absentmindedly. If it's the Deckard. When she turned to look at this other Chloe Price, yet another source of movement caught her attention. The first Max, the one sat at the dinner table, was staring at her in open-mouthed confusion. Beginning to get very confused herself, Chloe watched the room around her as it began to change, to shake, to deform.

"I'm comin,' I'm comin,'" the other Chloe declared from inches ahead of her. Sporting a hairstyle similar to her old one, save for the pink tips, this Chloe pulled the door open haphazardly, as if she did not know her own strength. She was drunk. The refrigerator door opened wide and passed clean through Chloe before she could step back to avoid being hit. The first Max continued to gape at her. The sink turned itself on and then back off, before the faucet clattered into the sink itself without a sound. Something, and Chloe was not sure what it was, disappeared from the counter on the other side of the room. Then, as suddenly as they appeared, the other Chloe, the other Max and the mysterious girl with the dark hair and wide grin vanished. As Chloe turned to stare at the living room, the television was off and it was only lit by the dim light spilling in from the kitchen.

"You're not supposed to be here," the first Max told her, pulling her sweatshirt tighter around herself as if she were cold. The light overhead flickered. Chloe stared at the old, water-stained stucco ceiling. Max's tone was not accusatory, it was a simple statement of fact. Chloe looked past her, to the table. The source of the clicking and whatever puzzle had her distracted and muttering jumped out quickly. It was in seven or eight pieces, mind you, but even still, it was hard to mistake that sitting on the table in front of Max was a shattered human skull. "I'm trying to put it together," Max clarified, and then her face changed. "Or- or I was. That doesn't make much sense does it?" Chloe watched her blink. This is Max. The photographer's physical appearance shifted as Chloe observed the various emotions pass across her face. It happened quick and all at once, the shortening hair, the paling face, a bit of weight dropped, enough to make Chloe realized Max looked slightly underfed. " I'm not supposed to be here," Max finished, looking around. The photographer quickly pushed the shattered skull away, but it wasn't in disgust, ti was in frustration. Pieces of it rolled across the table and vanished one by one.

"You're dreaming," Chloe told her, suddenly, intent on comforting her. "I didn't mean it- I didn't mean to come here but I'm here." How little has Max been eating?Chloe asked. Having seen this transformation, Chloe could not help but draw the comparison between the three images of Max, and this one, the one she was holding in her arms in the waking world ( oh, shit, right, we're in my room ) looked like she had skipped a few too many meals. "Are you okay?"

"You're in my dream?" Max asked, as if she needed confirmation. She looked around the room once and then the previous questioning was replaced with discomfort. The light flickered again and the table began to spontaneously bow in the center. "You can't be here, Chloe." Chloe nodded once.

"I can go," Chloe promised her, trying to sound soothing. "I figured out how, I didn't mean to come at all." She wanted Max to understand that by choice she would never have violated Max's trust and come here without permission. However, no sooner had she opened her mouth to explain then she understood, instinctively, that what upset Max wasn't Chloe being in her dream, but instead being in this setting. This location. Max's face contorted.

"I know," Max told her. "You wouldn't have done it if you knew." This odd way of understanding, of knowing, was two-way. "Okay, this is weird." The room began again to shake around her and this time, the edge of it blurred. Max noticed too, as her head lifted. This, Chloe thought, this I understand. And maybe if I understand it, you will too. She locked eyes with Max, who, after a moment, nodded. "I'm close to waking up." Chloe mirrored the gesture. Max's eyes seemed shrunken compared to the version of herself she had been mere moments before. Details of the dream began to break down around them.

The floor vanished at one point, then came back changed, a pale cement instead of the linoleum from before. Curtains which might have existed a moment ago were simply gone, revealing only a dark window in their place. Chloe got an idea of where the apartment was situated, a passing detail pulled out of Max's mind.This is fucking weird. Chloe had the unmistakable but inexplicable idea that they were in some dream version of Los Angeles, California.

"I don't know what's about to happen," Chloe told her. "But I'm going to go, now." The girl in front of her looked as if she was exposed in some way and it feltdamning to be the one who had exposed her. There was a panicked vulnerability in her eyes. The dream continued to destabilize. Chloe felt an echo of relief. She had no reason to feel relieved. In fact, she just felt guilty, like she had walked in on someone in the shower or something. The relief, then, had to be Max's. I wonder if it's at possibly waking up or about me just fucking off?

Chloe closed her eyes. Her legs tensed slightly beneath her, she exhaled and then, she kicked off from the ground. Instead of simply falling back to it or experiencing some low-gravity sensation of slowly flying away from it, Chloe was captured by some apparent obstruction one moment and then floated on her back as if in water, the next. When she opened her eyes she saw once more the grey mist and then, with a small but sharp intake of breath, opened her eyes again, to the ceiling of her bedroom. When Chloe was sure she was actually awake and not in some kind of dream of her own, she turned her cocked head sideways.

Max's deep blue eyes were already locked on her. She had not moved from Chloe's side. Whatever else was going on, Chloe was relieved to see that.

March 12th, 2011 - 11:39 AM

"Happy Yesterday-Was-Your-Birthday," Max declared the very moment Chloe pulled open the Madsen household's front door. That is quite the mouthful, Chloe thought at the photographer. Dressed for a day far warmer than it actually was, Max glanced past Chloe, looking for, she thought, her mother or stepfather.

"Step douche is on campus, Mom's at the diner," Chloe replied, taking her best guess. Max pushed in and shut the door behind her in response and then practically threw herself at Chloe. It took the artist a second to reach up and grab her in a hug. Tightly, the photographer's arms wrapped around her back. Chloe laughed. Yesterday Max hadn't been able to show much in the way of affection toward her until the tabletop session. Thus was the nature of her still being unsure about coming out publicly as in a relationship with she and Rachel. If, as it turned out, Max had decided last night was not quite enough time to be affectionate with Chloe on her birthday, who was Chloe to argue against some 'Yesterday-Was-Your-Birthday' cuddling? "How'd you sleep?" She did not let go of the photographer, though she made sure not to press too hard against the bag hanging from Max's shoulders. Chloe wouldn't want to fuck up the old camera she suspected was in the bag. In addition to being Max's main tool of her craft, it still held some sentimental value for Chloe, herself.

"Better than I have for like, the last week," Max admitted, muttering quietly. Chloe hated to suggest that maybe Max's return to the Devil's Lettuce had something to do with it, but she thought it was a reasonable assumption. Early on in the semester Max had smoked fairly regularly to help regulate her rather intense anxiety, it only made sense that it might help her now. That was weird, too, Chloe thought. She did not let go of the photographer until Max pushed once on her shoulder and then told her it was time to 'get ready'.

"Get ready for what?" Chloe queried. The brunette only smiled at her for a second, the smile of someone who knew a secret that you were just going to have to deal with not knowing. "Oh no," she said. "Don't you dare start that mystery shit with me," she insisted. Max chuckled and rested one hand on her face. It might have been easy to mistake for a gesture of amusement if Chloe hadn't noticed precisely what her hand was covering up: a rather painful looking blemish. So she's being self-conscious? Not being much of a fan of that idea, Chloe leaned in. For a moment, Max's smug look vanished. It was replaced by a crooked smile-one which Chloe found she quite liked-and a sort of eagerness in her eyes. That, too, was preferable. Their lips met only very briefly.

"Okay, okay. Go get some shoes and the ID. We're going to meet Rachel in Edgeton." Chloe squinted at her. "What, that's not enough information?" When Chloe shook her head insistently, Max only smirked, hands falling to her side, any concern about the blemish lost. "I'm sorry, Chloe, but it's a birthday surprise. Get with the spirit, or prepare to be annoyed all the way out of town." Chloe loosed one loud, dramatic sigh and then, making sure to play up her long-suffering bit, turned toward the stairs. Pausing at the base of them she nodded toward the kitchen.

"Grab yourself a coke or something," Chloe advised the girl. "It's gonna be a bit of a ride."

Whenever Chloe relaxed enough to take her right hand from the wheel and place it on the seat between them, Max's left rested on top of it. She hated to sound like a Hallmark card, but sometimes it really was the simple things. Beside her, Max had been quiet for something like the last ten minutes except to give Chloe directions. For once, Chloe felt no need to fill that silence. It was comfortable. Well, for the most part. The only thing that was uncomfortable at all was the growing suspicion that she knew where she was being taken. There were only about three things in Edgeton that held any interest to the three of them: Sera's apartment, a restaurant Chloe had once taken Rachel to and, of course, the Three Shells tattoo parlor. Thing is, there's no reason to go to Sera's today, we already passed the restaurant and they both know I've chosen the lady who inks there to do my sleeve.

Technically she had ruined the surprise for herself, but there was still plenty in the way of nerves to go around as Chloe quietly turned when told. With each turn, each passing block, she was more and more convinced she knew where they were going but it felt a little rude to come out with that. Okay, so this is actually about to be a thing, she thought, her breath catching for a moment in her chest. The brunette's face split with a knowing grin. Chloe wanted to pull over and do something that was equal parts enjoyable and likely to wipe the smile off her face but at this point the idea that she might actually get to schedule a time to start the sleeve was distracting her from even the idea of finding a way to make Max turn apple red.

"You alright there? Take a left up ahead."

"I think I am," she replied, exhaling as the building came into view. Sure enough, a familiar looking blue sedan that she recognized from the Amber driveway was resting in front of the building. Chloe turned left into the lot as Max instructed. While she pulled herself into a parking spot, the door to the Amber family car opened and Rachel stepped out. Chloe shot a glance past Max, through the window and to Rachel who, at that moment, pulled Chloe's tattoo sketchbook from beneath her jacket. When the fuck did she even get that? "Oh this was a joint operation," Chloe realized. The only one who had been in Chloe's room other than herself since she'd finished the design almost a week ago was Max. The brunette's grin did not waver as Chloe turned the engine off. Rachel beckoned them once and then sat back down in the driver's seat of her mother's car.

Chloe looked once at Max and then, as if responding to some signal Chloe didn't notice, Max scrambled from the cab of the truck leaving her little choice but to follow. Max eased herself into the back seat of the small, blue sedan, forcing Chloe to walk around to the front passenger seat. Rachel smirked at her, a look of satisfaction on her face as Chloe dropped into the passenger seat and received a quick peck on the cheek in greeting. There wasn't a lot of room in the front of the car but it was still enough for Chloe to return the greeting with a hug. Okay, now how about you try to resist the urge to wag your finger at them, Price?

"If you guys are doing what I think you're doing, this is waaaay overboard for a birthday." So much for that.

"We went halfsies," Rachel told her.

"'Went'?" Chloe asked, turning to glance between them. Though she had been checking out the artist's work for some time, now, she had never brought her the sketchbook to get any kind of a plan or an estimate done.

"Yeah," Rachel admitted, and this time, the girl's locked eyes, sharing a smug look. "We sort of came by on Thursday and told her we wanted to surprise our friend. Got an estimate, talked out the kind of time it might take, that kind of thing." Chloe crossed her arms. Okay, they've done their homework, she thought. But that leaves one question.

"When did you even get this?" Chloe asked, gesturing to Rachel's jacket. The blonde freed the notebook from beneath it and passed it to Chloe.

"That was me," Max replied, amused. I'm dating sneaky rogue types.

"You two rolled pretty high on deception last night," Chloe mused as she turned the notebook over between her fingers.

"Are you ready?" Max asked her, quietly. The photographer reached a nimble hand up to steady herself as she leaned forward between the front seats. Quietly, wanting to be sure she absolutely was, Chloe opened the sketchbook. "Take your time. We've got like twenty minutes." Exhaling slowly, she flipped from page to page. A few discarded sketches took up the first pages. Max and Rachel watched the book as she flipped through despite having seen it any number of times while Chloe was working on it. Eventually they got to the preliminary drawings of various parts, then more and more detailed and colored versions passed from page to page until she turned finally to the final and inhaled just as slowly. "Chloe?"

"I think," she finally answered. Her left hand rose to remove and discard her beanie. It rested on the floorboard between her feet. She traced up the image with two fingers as the girls looked on. You're being silly, Chloe tried to tell herself, but this felt meaningful to her, not just the design of the tattoo but the moment they were sharing. "I'm happy to get the most badass artist for like, miles and miles to work on it and all, but I just want to look at it one more time." Her fingers traced the path of the red ribbon that tied the whole thing together as it passed in front of the roots growing from the bouquet it was tied around. Cradled in those roots, a purple-black D20 shone in red numbers, the fabled and ever sought critical success facing upward. Steph and Mikey. As the ribbon continued circling behind and up around the bouquet of wide-bulbed, brilliant red flowers, the roots became stems. Dad. Peeking out from behind those stems, a curve of the ribbon resting just above it, was the lens of a camera.

Reflected in the lens was the soft grid pattern of a pale stone wall. Painted on that wall in thick, black lines was the front half of a doe whose head was turned, looking outward with large, dark eyes. Max. The night Max first kissed her, she had been overwhelmed by the dreams of both of the girls in the car with her. One had featured the doe on the wall, struck down and dead with a great bird picking at it. She had been disturbed by the knowledge that, in the dream, this doe wasMax. Instead, here it was alive, beautiful, vital. The ribbon continued winding upward toward the top of the flowers. Speaking of birds, Rachel. The head and beak of a raven stuck out of the stem and leaves of around the base of the flowers' bulbs, not far above the camera lens. Finally, amid the tops of the flowers, the ribbon ended as it ran through the eyes of a Tragedy and Comedy mask pair. My promises.

Not amused at the feeling of emotions welling a little too close to the surface, Chloe took and released a deep breath. She realized that the warm hand on the back of her neck was Max's. The one coming to rest atop her own left hand was, of course, Rachel's. Emotional or not, she grinned up at them and shut the sketchbook smartly. However much the artist decided she could get done today, it was sure to be a little unpleasant but when it was done, her arm was going to be a testament to the girls she loved, the promises they made each other, the friends who came at a time when she felt like she was drowning and, finally, her reasons for staying in Arcadia Bay.

"You're satisfied with it?" Rachel asked, finally. She misunderstood. It was never about being satisfied, it was about paying it the respect it deserved, paying themthe respect they deserve.

"I am," Chloe told her, unsure how to explain it in the moment. "Wish I could just power through it all today. David's going to flip his fucking lid."

"Hello, it's Saturday," Max told her. "He's not gonna know until at least Monday."

"Oh shit," Chloe said, brightening up slightly more, if that was all possible. "Right, crashing at Steph's. Forgot. I need to call her later, I was supposed to be there already."

"She knows," Rachel said, placatingly. "We told her last night." Chloe looked past her to the Three Shells Tattoo Parlor. Through the glass door she could see people moving around behind a counter of some sort. There was another artist who worked there, and it was possible he had a customer too. The three of them would probably attract a raised eyebrow but the ID would hold up.

"You know this is kind of an epic birthday gift," she confessed. "It makes me wish like hell I had money to do something this cool for either of you." When Rachel shook her head, Chloe spoke up. "No, seriously. The truck? This? You two fucking spoil me."

"It's not about any of that," Max told her. Chloe rolled her eyes at the coming spiel. "We just want you to have something you've wanted for so long." Chloe swallowed and nodded, reaching out for her door handle and pulling it.

"Then let's do it," Chloe said. I'll have them right beside me the whole time. They're always right here beside me. People tended to overuse the term 'on top of the world' in Chloe's opinion, but as she shut the Amber family car's door behind her, she felt like a bird on the edge of launching from the top of Everest. I feel like I could actually dance to the shitty pop playing in that club.

June 14th, 2011 - 6:10 PM

Rachel leaned away from the brick wall behind her and forward slightly as the girl she had an arm around passed the blunt in her hand over to Chloe. Max's eyes were closed and perhaps it was this that made Rachel feel alright watching her so intently. Even a few months down the line, Max was not a hundred percent. She still seemed to have issues with eating and sleeping, occasionally needed to be reminded that the first of these, especially, was not optional. The approaching summer break, which seemed to be a relief for many of their classmates, had only exacerbated things. Still, in this moment, she seemed, if mellow, in control and relaxed. The girl released a steady stream of smoke and then opened her eyes, to find Rachel practically in her face already.

This earned Rachel a confused, querying smile. She did not bother to answer the implied questions. Instead, when Chloe reached across Max to offer her a hit, she took the opportunity to squeeze the photographer in a tight, one-armed hug as she leaned sideways to take the blunt. Max responded by all but clinging to her.Sometimes she's like this, Rachel thought as the rough, hot smoke poured down, into her chest. Max turned so that her knees rested across Rachel's legs and wrapped both of her arms around her. Other times, she can't be touched, calling herself monstrous, sick, wrong. As Rachel awkwardly handed Chloe the joint and returned the embrace, she remembered with some disdain the night that she and Chloe had taken the risk to try to confront Max about these feelings, to try to getmore information, more specifics. The three hours of complete silence from Max that followed had been disturbing because they were not made of petty resistance. Shame, earthshaking shame had stolen the brunette's voice. And I'm perfectly fine with us not pushing it again, yet, but something's got to give.

At least, though they were all a little bit melancholy, Max was in a lot better shape this way, than that. Chloe's arms wrapped around them, and it was far less awkward a maneuver than one might expect. The artist's hand brought the joint safely wide so as not to burn anyone and they paused that way. It was moments like these that Rachel enjoyed the most, when she felt the most human, the most normal. They certainly raised all kinds of existential questions about their relationship ( Is it a relationship or is it three different ones? Does there have to be a distinction?) but they also confirmed one thing she had begun to suspect- there were going to be an absurd number of skype calls between the three of them next week. And probably for the rest of the summer.

"It's gonna be okay, you know?" Rachel told her. "You'll come down for my birthday and we'll get up to no good together, just the three of us." Max shook her head, but it didn't seem to be in denial. When Rachel was staring into those dark blue pools once more, Max seemed to find the words she was looking for. Rachel ran her feet through the damp, dark grass that made up Steph's back yard.

"Of course it is, but it doesn't mean I'm not a little down about it."

"I think we all are," Chloe responded, slowly easing back from them both. "Summer break's going to suck, and all, but it'll go by fast." She's trying to convince herself. I'll have to try to make it go by fast for us both.

"We'll skype as often as we want, maybe every night, even."

"I'm gonna need that," Max admitted. "I've got a bad feeling. Actually," The brunette suddenly laughed. "Right now I'm feeling good. " Rachel chuckled as Max separated from her.

"Yeah, call me Ozzy," she shot back, "I'm flyin' high again." She glanced sideways at Chloe, who, upon catching the joke raised a hand that demanded a high five. Rachel delivered, happily, laughing at her own-admittedly not very funny-joke.

"Very nice," Max agreed, beginning to look far less downtrodden than a second ago. Something about her eyes said that she was not quite over the clinging to youphase of the night, though. Then again, Rachel thought as the sliding door on the wall behind them slid open, the night's still young.

"Hey," Mikey called from the doorway. "Done with my phone call, you three comin' in or are you too high to roll?" Chloe jumped suddenly to her feet as if offended.

"Be those fighting words, good sir?" Rachel watched the girl throw up two curled fists. "Fisticuffs, fisticuffs I say!" The lithe girl looked a little out of her element playfully shaking fists at Mikey and his lifted eyebrow, but that was probably only because the way she moved was a poor imitation of a boxer. Chloe's not really a sports person, which sucks because she'd be a good runner. Also, she can take a mean right hook and stay on her feet, so... Rachel wondered if either of them had ever told Max the story of the night they first hung out together, of the fight in the mill, of the epic shiner Chloe got after dropping a guy with a bottle to the side of the skull.

"Calm down there, Dre'na," Mikey finally responded, in the gruff tone he reserved for his character's voice. "Come gather around the fire, take a short rest, let the herb work its course." Rachel got to her feet only a little reluctantly. The truth was she was kind of eager to see how the session ended, because it would be a kind of campaign ending, since Mikey would be leaving Arcadia Bay next week, after the school year ended. Chloe must have been having similar thoughts because she lunged out, tossed an arm around Mikey's shoulder and punched him very lightly on the arm.

"Yeah, yeah, let's do it," Chloe replied, running one hand through her rapidly growing hair. "I wanna see if we can kick some necromancer ass tonight. We can totally clear the Necropolis Town Hall before dinner." Rachel grimaced at Mikey's back as they turned, mostly because she saw the flash of remorse on his face. Mikey had begun to try to take a "it is what it is" approach to the fact that he was leaving, but there seemed to be some new frustration to smack him in the face with it every few days. Apparently, just the day before he had learned a friend of his was coming back to Arcadia Bay to attend Blackwell next year, someone he apparently missed greatly. Bad luck, Rachel thought as she stepped into the kitchen behind Max. Then again, if Chloe had bailed from Arcadia Bay that night like we planned, we would have both missed Max.

It was kind of weird, Rachel mused sitting down between Max and Chloe at the table, to imagine a world where she never met Max Caulfield and Max Caulfield never met her. Kinda gross, to be honest. Steph was in full DM mode, a satisfied if teasing smile settling on her face, her hands folded in front of her behind her DM screen. She just needs a thin dark moustache to twirl, to complete the 'I'm up to something' look. To Max's left, this time, Mikey was looking eager. Rachel took this all as a signal to dig out her dice, pencil and character sheet. Chloe looked happy enough to begin, but her hand resting on Rachel's knee, as if asking for her hand made her grin. She clasped Chloe's hand beneath the table while she could.

"So," Chloe said, "Game until we drop or the Twiceborn King does?" Mikey's response was a grim nod.

"I've put a lot of extra work into into cooking things up for the Palace, since I know that's where you guys are heading." We lost one character last session, this one's likely to end in a Total Party Kill if it's going to be harder in the palace. Steph didn't seem to pick up on her mood or the eyebrow being raised by Max. Instead she sipped at a glass of root beer as if she hadn't a care in the world. Or she's taunting us, she thought. Either way, she was going to suggest they stop and rest as often as possible, unless it looked like they were being hunted.

"You're enjoying this too much again," Chloe informed Steph suddenly. "Gotta keep it PG in here."

"Very well, then, very well," Steph muttered, as if not taking Chloe's bait. She's going full on DM. "We fade in on the Great Necropolis of the Twiceborn King. As an establishing shot, our camera passes over miles and miles of gravestones beneath a starless sky, the only light baring down on it that of an abnormally large moon. In the center of this great expanse nine buildings rise from the earth, all stone and dark, decaying wood. The second tallest of these, the Necropolis Palace, is the strongest, mostly stone based. Your party has been working toward it for some time. You are not there yet." Steph's dark eyes turned sharply on Max. "And one of you may never reach it, or not under your own power. We move in to the tallest building, a stone tower, the Necropolis' Rising Hall. Somewhere at its base, drenched in gore and viscera, the central room awaits us. Scattered about the room are bones and flesh, the flesh in varying stages of decay. Only two corpses remain intact among the many littering the room. I believe last we laid off, one of those was being hurled against one wall and the other was being arranged so as to make it look as if it were sleeping." Steph sighed.

"The dark-robed High Lich crumples against the wall and then falls to the earth. Its hand, long missing the pinkie finger, points, damingly, accusingly at the one who took its unlife. Dre'na, let's start with you, covered in the gore of this High Lich… what are you doing?" Rachel grinned as the 'introduction' came to an end. She enjoyed Steph's recaps, the girl always set the stage well and let them get into character.

"I think," Chloe said, "As soon as the body hits the ground I approach Jules and kneel beside him."

"Yes," Steph said. "His face is calm, his chest has stopped rising and falling and the pain of his wounds seems to be beyond him, now. He is very, very dead."

"Not for long," Rachel said, before affecting Che's voice. "'Don't worry, I've readied for this for some time.'"

"Readied for what?" Mikey responded in his character's gruff mumble.

"I think at this point," Rachel interjected, "Che brings out the diamond they found on the top floor?" Steph nodded, grinning a little. She leaned back in her chair as if waiting for Rachel to go on, so she did. "'I have a spell, a ritual, which should bring him back to us.'"

"Is that right?" Chloe asked, her voice low and scratchy. "Look at what necromancy has done? The capitol has fallen, all these souls are damned."

In this way, the party debated briefly in character before, ultimately, they decided to bring Jules back from the abyss. The in-game narrative was fun and engaging and it was exactly what Rachel needed after the week behind her. The real fun for her, though, was not in the character development or the increasingly terrifying combat encounters, but in watching the way everyone around the table lit up as the night progressed. The time set aside for them to take their first break came and went without anyone noticing, or, at least, without anyone saying anything. The stresses of finals and the fact that two of them were about to leave Arcadia Bay, one ostensibly for the foreseeable future eventually faded to a dull roar in the background.

Rachel was able to enjoy the sound of laughter and, damn if some of it wasn't actually her own. At one point, she whacked Chloe on the arm in response to her jokingly flirting with Steph instead of rolling a death save as a horde of Undead Thralls descended on the rest of the party. At another, Mikey was doing his best to go deep into character, to the point where he had to catch himself from answering an out-of-character question in Gor's gruff, gravely tone. It was fun, simply put. The night was all of those things that drew Rachel to tabletop gaming, even if she couldn't deny that her first encounter with it was only at Chloe's unyielding insistence.

When, finally it came time that everyone was forced to break, it was at a rather inopportune time. They had skipped dinner in favor of the game, but there were still bodily functions to take into count and skipping a bathroom break after all those hours at the table could have proven disasterous. Even if we are in the middle of the final showdown, I don't think anyone's going to be able to hold it much longer. Rachel took her turn when the time came but mostly sat back in her chair musing over her limited remaining spells.

"So," Mikey mumbled low enough that she could hear but Steph could now, "What do you think the chances that the big marble coffin in the back of the room isn'tholding the Twiceborn King?" Rachel grimaced, shrugging. The answer was not pretty, on that front.

"Last time we saw him we gave him a bit of a wollop before we had to run, so maybe he is in there healing or something," Rachel muttered in response. Steph's eyes brightened slightly behind her DM screen, enough that Rachel thought she could hear them just fine. "Of course, if he's in there doing some sort of regeneration thing, he'll probably get up if we finish off the last High Lich. And there's still all those Thralls."

"That's the thing," Mikey replied, no longer bothering with pretense of whispering. He pushed his glasses up the length of his nose and scratched at the side of his head. "The Thralls should only regenerate if he's around, so that's got to be what's going on." Rachel nodded. It was getting late and they had already fought their way through the entirety of the Necropolis' Palace. This was definitely the sight of the final showdown. It was just starting to look bad for anyone surviving. "I guess the High Liches could have summoned them, but the last time we fought one the Thralls just died regularly." At this point, Chloe returned from the kitchen with a large bowl of pretzels.

"Oh," Rachel said by way of greeting. "My hero," this drew a cheeky enough smile from Chloe, who sat the bowl down at the farthest point away from Rachel possible before approaching her. She wants to play this game, huh? Rachel stood up from her seat as Chloe stepped close to her, reaching out. The familiar feeling of a pair of Chloe's fingers brushing a lock of hair behind her ear flustered Rachel, something it rarely did.

"And what kind of reward does your hero receive?" Chloe asked, voice low as she leaned forward. Playing along, Rachel followed suit. Their lips were mere inches apart. She could see how tired Chloe was beginning to get in her eyes, but also the affection dancing in them. Mikey cleared his throat exaggeratedly, as if to make a point as they drew closer and closer. Then, just before their lips met, Rachel whispered her response.

"I get her ass up next time her HP hits 0." Chloe sighed and stepped back once, sinking into her seat. When she passed the bowl of mini-pretzels across the table, Rachel leaned over and pecked her on the cheek. "That too," she clarified, before taking a handful and pushing the bowl toward Mikey. This seemed to make the artist brighten up a bit, and she shot Rachel a look promising that there was far more to come. This was something Rachel intended to hold her to.

"Hey," Max called from edge of the room. In one hand was a tripod, legs already unfolded and in the other a thick, black digital camera that Rachel believed belonged to Steph's father. "Everyone about ready?" the brunette asked, dark blue eyes glancing from one person to the next with genuine excitement in them. I can't believe she's leaving next week. It seemed hard to comprehend not being able to walk out of her dorm room to Max's and watch Netflix or simply study together. The idea that she might go a couple of months without backing Max against a wall and kissing her, teasing every little bit of heat to her face wasupsetting, to say the least. Right, the picture.

It took the girl a few seconds to figure out the right settings, but eventually, with Steph, Max and Rachel up front and Mikey and Chloe in the back, visible above and behind their shoulders, a photo was taken that mirrored one Max had done during their third session together as a whole. Rachel was already intent on framing this one, though she was not sure where to put it as the idea of making the Amber household her home again was a bit disturbing. Then again, if Chloe can do it, so can I.

"Whew," Chloe said, glancing down into the digital view screen. "Now if that's not the most sexy I've ever seen in one photo, I don't know what is." Rachel rolled her eyes to Mikey, briefly. Chloe turned the camera to briefly show a photo she had just taken of herself, when the rest of them were busy settling back into their seats. "The group one turned out pretty nice too, though."

"Get over here, photohog," Max admonished. "We've got to finish this quest right." There was a fair amount of shuffling and stalling by all parties to get the game running again. Everyone seemed to be in agreement that this was it, the final battle. However reluctant they might be to end the campaign (and Rachel was, at least, because in a way it was like the end of an era: their friend group was being permanently diminished by Mikey's departure) the combat lasted only a few more minutes before the party as a whole was forced to confront an uncomfortable truth.

"Alright," Rachel said, out of character as her turn came up. "Dre'na, HP check."

"Ten," Chloe responded, grimacing.

"Shit," Mikey and Max declared in unison. Rachel knew how many hitpoints Jules had left, and it was not enough to finish out this fight.

"We have three Thralls who keep regenerating, a High Lich about a hit from Dre'na's club away from death and the minute he dies the big boss is probably coming out of that coffin." Rachel turned toward the others. "That about sum it up?"

"Yeah," Mikey replied, his glasses perched precariously on the tip of his nose. "Look," he said, lifting his head suddenly. "We find a way to bring this building down on him, bury him, and he's a problem for someone else in a few weeks or months or years, either way, we can walk out of here having done some good for the kingdom. We might even have time to reorganize the kingdom's troops." Max nodded and Rachel turned her eyes on the boy, examining him. In this game he tended to play all or nothing. He would have, at the start of the campaign, hated the idea that they might end it temporarily sealing some evil away. In fact, he called the trope 'the Ganondorf Fallacy.'

"Okay," Chloe said, "I'm down, but how. If we take the time to bring the roof down, the High Lich will probably finish one or more of us off. I can't be the only one running on E here."

"You're not," Rachel shot back. "Jules is almost dead and I've got enough spell levels left for a one last big bang, which might work here, but that's about it."

"Our options," Max chimed in, "are take the risk or keep fighting. The Twiceborn King will definitely wipe the party"

"Not the worst end we could have," Rachel replied, toying with a D8 between her fingers. "But you know what, Mikey wants to go out on a high note and I'm down for it."

"Then what are you going to do?" Steph suddenly interjected, drawing everyone's attention to her and to the fact that they were technically still in combat, still in game. Right, Rachel told herself. My turn. "Che, your chronomancer has a pair of Thralls baring down on him and he does not have the kind of armor your barbarian does. Speaking of Dre'na, the High Lich has turned away from Gor and is making for her." It was cool how, after all this time, she could kind of picture the characters, some strange amalgamation of how Chloe had been drawing them this whole time (in secret, no less) and how they formed in her head. It was also enough to endear them to her a little bit more. Okay, blaze of glory.

"There's a reason I took levels in Wizard," Rachel told the rest of the group. In Che's voice she said, "Jules, if you've got that trap of yours up your sleeve, this is the time, Dre'na, Gor, disengage and get clear of them. Head for the door." She shifted back out of character and looked Steph in the eyes. "From this spot, can I get clear sight of the marble coffin?" Steph nodded, though with a smile she raised an eyebrow.

"If you break it," Mikey cautioned, "He'll come running out of there like a bat out of hell."

"Do the undead liches go to hell when they sleep?" Steph mused, looking like the idea was genuinely engaging.

"Oh no," Rachel said. "If I can see the coffin, I can see the pillars on either side of that section of the room. I'm going to pick the closest one to the coffin on the right side and use it as my focal point to cast Shatter." There was some quiet around the table. Rachel wasn't sure what was going through the minds of the rest of the players, probably calculating the likelihood that they could reach the entrance if they disengaged from the fight right then and left Rachel to do her damage. The spell was cast and Rachel nodded as Steph began to describe the unfolding results.

"The palace has already suffered a fair amount of damage as a result of the battles you've fought to get here," she started, humming.

"And the fact that part of the west outer wall turned out to be a golem, " Mikey added. Chloe seemed to nod in agreement. Rachel could see the wheels turning behind Steph's eyes. She wasn't sure there was an existing mechanic for what she was trying to do.

"Tell you what Che, roll me a flat D20," Steph finally instructed. Rachel let the die fall, rolling loudly against the table, a pleasant and by this point nostalgic sound. "That's an eighteen? Alright." Folding her arms behind the screen she paused in apparent contemplation, enough so that she absentmindedly flicked a strand of hair behind her ear back and forth and then grunted. "Yeah, so I think the is definitely blown all to hell. Everyone else, you don't see this coming, so a sound like an explosion goes off which, face it, that's been known to happen around Che."

"Fair enough," Rachel conceded, grinning.

"Chunks of stone fly every which way and a bit of the ceiling falls in, bouncing mostly harmlessly off of the casket." This time she did not grin. This time Rachel positively beamed, taking one fist into the other hand and cracking her knuckles.

"Dre'na," she said, in character. "Smash. Pillars." Things progressed fairly quickly from there. It quickly became evident that the two of them could not execute the plan alone, which earned reengagement on the part of the other members of their party. Jules provided an excellent distraction, trapping one of the High Liches and the thralls for two or three turns to let them continue their work with only minimal interference. Within ten minutes there were no more dice to roll. The party was not roleplaying anymore. The months' long game they had put so much time, energy and passion into had come to an end. All that was left were the descriptions Steph had of the aftermath.

"For the next year, the remaining citizens of the capitol will stop on the ides of each month and there will be no commerce that is not necessary to the safety of the kingdom. For the next year the ides of each month bear the name Gord, in honor of the great dwarven druid who, in the form of an ape, sacrificed his life to seal the Twiceborn King in his tomb for a while longer, buying the kingdom some time to survive." Rachel glanced at Mikey, who looked grimly satisfied for a moment and then smiled widely. "Though his body has been lost beneath the rubble and likely will be the first that the Twiceborn King puppets upon his inevitable rise, this dwarf has attained a heroic status among this kingdom."

"And in the hearts of his comrades," Rachel echoed in Che's voice.

"Well, no better way to end it than that," Steph declared, laying her DM screen down atop her dice. The gesture had an odd finality to it that seemed too serious for a simple roleplaying game. "I think, while this world may not be done, the party's journeys are, for the moment." Rachel leaned back in her chair, eyes closing. Strangely enough, the whole thing did not make the idea of losing Max for the summer (or, for that matter, Mikey potentially for good) any worse or closer to the surface. She felt, fine except for the vaguely hollow feeling she often got after finishing a good book.

Without me really noticing, Mikey and Steph became actual fucking friends. Stretching, Rachel stood up and patted Chloe on the shoulder as she stepped past the girl. Chloe's hand pressed against hers once and then let her go. Mikey glanced up from his chair at Rachel as she gestured for him to get to his feet, a little confused. They exchanged a brief hug, which he returned only after a surprised moment of hesitation.

"Gonna suck to see you go," Rachel told him, unsure if she'd ever had a particularly deep conversation with the boy. A fucking pity. He's good people. Behind her, Chloe jumped to her feet. Releasing Mikey, she turned to Chloe, whose face had lit up suddenly. "What is it?"

"Sketchbook," Chloe told the group at large. This was all the explanation she gave before she turned and hurried to the front door. Rachel could imagine the image likely to form on a blank page of the book. Maybe a large ape, muscles bulging as it pushed the cracked bottom of a pillar enough that the top's weight collapsed the room, and so the building.

"What sketchbook?" Mikey asked, but Chloe was gone before he could really get it out. "Has she started working on another tattoo idea, already?" Rachel shook her head. Of course, he still doesn't know. While Chloe fetched her secret gift for Mikey, Rachel reached across the table for a high five from their exhausted looking dungeon master and then finally, without much of a warning, lowered herself into Max's lap.

"Hey, you," she greeted the photographer, aware she had gone very quiet as soon as the game ended. Rachel tried to read her emotional state on her face but found it rather difficult to do so.

"Hey back," Max replied, her face slowly growing more and more content as their foreheads pressed together. I think Chloe and I are going to steal as much of your time as we can the next few days, Rachel thought to herself as she stared into the photographer's eyes. She felt moisture on her cheeks and pulled back, looking for the tears in Max's eyes. There weren't any. "Hey, hey," Max called, each time more softly than the last. The photographer's right hand cupped her chin, and the left drew threw tear trails Rachel did not expect to find were her own. Oh, she thought, in a numb realization. "It's all gonna be okay." Rachel Amber allowed herself to be hugged and simply told the lump in her throat to go away, that it was unwelcome.

It's been a long ass week. It's about to be a longer summer.

August 23rd, 2011 10:42 AM

It had been a long summer, when it all came down to it. And how much of it have I spent here? Chloe asked herself as she reclined in the La-Z-Boy. On screen, the antics of various doctors and nurses from Sacred Heart Teaching Hospital continued to play out. Chloe was paying enough attention to get the jokes, but mostly she was just thinking. The end of the summer was so close. That meant a lot of things. For Chloe and Rachel, it meant Max. In just under two weeks, the Caulfield family would be pulling into the parking lot of Blackwell Academy, where Rachel and Chloe were going to be meeting them. For the first time, though, they're going to know. There was no doubt in her mind that her mother knew by now just how close she, Rachel and Max actually were. That meant that the Caulfields knew, too. Max's reports about how her parents spoke of them suggested the same. They were, apparently, dancing around the topic to allow Max a chance to tell them. She seemed not to know how.

Max, Chloe thought, half-frowning as she turned from the screen to look around Steph's living room. Wish she was here, wish she had been able to come back again after Rachel's birthday. Unsettlingly, Max's emotional and mental health had continued to deteriorate over the break. Despite attempts both Rachel and Chloe had made to squeeze more information out of her, they couldn't seem to break the surface. Max's attempts at evasion were more successful when she was out of physical reach. Damn it. At times, Max's mood had been unpredictable. She would have, had this been anyone else in any other situation, thought Max was jealous, whether of her or of Rachel it was unclear. The truth was the girl was missing them as much as Chloe was her. That was obvious to anyone who knew her. Max, for all her talk of other friends (including one who Chloe was beginning to doubt was actually anywhere to be found in Seattle) often looked and sounded incrediblylonely.

Lonely.

Which brought Chloe to the girl across the room. Throughout the entirety of the prior school year the creeping realization had been stalking Chloe. The way Steph was always down to host a gathering, the way she would be eager to go anywhere, do anything, the way she had even willingly joined Chloe on a hike or two. Steph was profoundly lonely. Losing Mikey was definitely the final blow, but Chloe had seen the flash of it in her eyes many times before then. A week after classes ended, Chloe had first noticed the intense change in the witty, creative artist. From talkative to quiet, from eager to desperate, her personality had already begun to change.

It left a sour taste in Chloe's mouth, with that in mind, to consider the situation in which her friend lived. While her father typically traveled for work more often than he was home, her mother tended to take very long vacations. The space between them was often as short as half of a week. In short, Steph ultimately lived alone. Up until a couple of years ago a family member might look in on her once a week but they had simply stopped as she aged and their parents never particularly sought anyone else out to do it. The end result was that during the summer, especially, Steph was left on her own: Not just living alone, but livingalone.

"Earth to Chloe," Steph called. "See something you like?" Chloe swallowed as she realized she was staring.

"Sorry," Chloe answered. "Lost thinking about Max," she lied. Steph gave her a sympathetic 'hmm' which only made Chloe feel worse. Just as she wouldn't want the brunette to pity her, she was fairly certain it was true the other way around, too. I'm kind of being a dick about it, Chloe told herself. She stretched her long hands out in front of her, flexing them as she turned back to the screen. Frankly, Chloe thought, she was just glad that she and Rachel were around this summer and not both leaving as Max had to. It's also a good thing Steph's a good friend, anyway. The summer had involved a lot of doing nothing with her: vegging out in front of a television, wandering the woods around Arcadia Bay or just generally hanging out in town. On occasion there would be beer or (more often) herb and sometimes they might have simply sat in a room together on their laptops, screwing around on the internet but more often than not there was just a television and food that was horrible for you.

Despite still technically being 'grounded' for having gotten a tattoo-which Chloe was relieved to have finished-either she and Rachel or she and Steph or maybe all three of them had hung out every day. Chloe had no apologies for her lack of respect for her step-father or her mother's rules. She received no basic courtesy in the house that hadn't been earned by implicit blackmail against David. They had done nothing to earn any respect from her. At least spending all day around her friend or her girlfriend, Chloe felt safe.

"In a weird way, this is kind of more home than my house," Chloe confessed, quite suddenly. Steph raised a thin, dark eyebrow and shot a glance her way. It was one of moderate concern. Chloe wasn't sure what to say to that concern. It had no romantic or even really familial connection behind it. It was just Steph, maybe her closest friend who was not also more than that. Of course, having stumbled into a few of her dreams probably helps. When Chloe didn't speak, Steph shrugged.

"Well, I mean, you do have clothes up in the guest room and a copy of the key, so… as far as I'm concerned, it is." Despite herself, Chloe let the smile break across her pale face and distracted herself from the urge to become a little embarrassed by running a hand through her hair, which was now back to its old pale-blue though bearing pink tips. Chloe wasn't sure where that particular touch had come from, but it had occurred to her all at once while she, Rachel and Steph were strolling through the store the week before. "Seriously, Chloe. That room's yours as far as I'm concerned."

They continued watching mostly in silence. Chloe occasionally checked her phone for a message from Rachel but beyond that she simply enjoyed being there. Sheloved that there was no one in the house with her that made the muscles in her neck tighten, that made her head ache or her stomach twist. The only person in this house was Steph, someone she could trust enough to fall asleep around, to laugh around, to cry around or to become so drunk that she could barely see straight around.

Eventually, as the sun rose higher in the sky outside, Chloe looked down at her phone to see Rachel announcing through text that she was 'here.' Grinning, she glanced across the room to Steph, who was fiddling absentmindedly with the end of one pants leg while, on screen, two of the protagonists on the show were stacked, one on top of another, beneath an excessively large lab coat. While the World's Most Giant Doctor fell apart unceremoniously, Chloe leaned forward in her seat.

"What's up?" Steph asked. Chloe didn't answer, she just waited for the ringing doorbell, which, upon finally coming, earned a comprehending, 'aaah.' It wasn't really effective to just call 'come in' from the living room, which was in the back of the house. It doesn't help that this house could eat mine for breakfast, Chloe mused as she stood up and stretched. "Got it?" Steph asked.

"Got it," Chloe promised. Besides, a few seconds alone with Rachel sounded fine by her. Chloe only hurried down the thick, comfortable carpet of the Gingrichs' main hallway because she was spurred on by just such a thought. Rachel's shape was visible through the frosted glass window set into the door and when she opened it the blonde stepped in without a moment of hesitation. Rachel had not bothered with her favored jacket, which Chloe couldn't blame her. The 70s was no temperature for a heavy leather jacket. She was instead, dressed a little more formally than usual. This probably meant that she had probably spent the day somewhere public with her mother. Or, wait, Tuesday. Her therapist.

If she was at all bothered by her day, Rachel did not seem to show it. As she shut Steph's front door behind her, the blonde looked relieved to see her. Chloe took a second to search Rachel's eyes for any sign of wear and tear from the day but found waiting in them a particular fire. The kind that typically meant-

"Hey you," Rachel greeted, finally, leaning into Chloe heavily enough that her only choice was to fall or take a step back. This was precisely what the blonde wanted, she knew, but she wasn't about to take a tumble in front of her unless it was on the skateboard Chloe had recently dusted off. Chloe pressed her back up against the wall just inside the door and as Rachel pushed in closer, she reached up to wrap an arm around her shoulders. Their foreheads met and for a moment she reveled in the closeness and enjoyed the ringside seats to the care in Rachel's eyes. The summer had been something on the transformative side for Rachel. It did very little in taking away her self-doubt but she had become far more open emotionally, having discovered (as she explained it to Chloe) that what she had been doing her whole life was simply not processing her emotions.

This had lead to something of a change in how she showed her affection but Chloe was not one to argue against it. In the end, all it meant was that the blonde was more assertive about her feelings, both the ugly and the very, very good. The hand on the small of Chloe's back traced slowly along her spine to rest just on her shoulder. She shivered against the touch and accepted that that was probably part of Rachel's goal. That was alright. She had her own ways of firing back in that whole struggle. Right then and there, though, she didn't feel like firing back, she felt like closing her eyes and letting Rachel's warmth spread to her, as it so deftly did.

"Missed you too," Chloe told her, when she began to feel that warmth. It radiated from Rachel as a whole, not just where their bodies made contact. She did not bother to open her eyes as Rachel leaned the pair of them back against the wall slightly. The simple, lazy days of the summer had been full of moments like this. She knew they were going to get rarer as the school year kicked off. Chloe was going to cling to every last one of them until that happened. Something that spoke of laughter and tears rose up, tickling the back of her throat but she didn't know how to put words to it.

"Missed you more," Rachel finally responded. Chloe opened her eyes when she felt the girl's nose brush against hers as she seemed to pull back.

"I missed you both the most," declared an exaggeratedly woeful voice from the far end of the hall. Steph stood, head thrown partially back and a dramatic hand resting across her forehead, a long suffering gesture. The mood was effectively shattered but Chloe was still able to appreciate the humor as Rachel let her stand more completely up and step away from the wall. "I wanted to know if you guys were hungry, actually."

"What do you think?" Rachel asked her. "Is it lunch time? Because that new Chinese place just opened up and I bet they'll deliver here." Just a few steps away from them, now, Steph pumped her fist.

"Oh that sounds fucking good right now. Moo goo gai pan." While Steph practically crowed, Chloe lead Rachel through to the living room by her hand, even though the girl knew her way perfectly well by now. She wasn't particularly about to pass up a chance to just be close to Rachel in whatever form it took. "Well?" Steph asked, waiting on Chloe's response. She could hear the girl only a step or two behind them searching for the phone number on a browser on her phone. Chloe laughed.

"Yeah it sounds good, but if we're doing Chinese let's do it now before we call Max," she insisted. Chloe collapsed onto one end of the excessively large couch and rather than take up some of the ample space, Rachel laid down with her head in Chloe's lap and shut her eyes almost instantly. Chloe chuckled once the momentary surprise passed. This was part of Rachel's promised openness. If she wanted to have a physical connection like this she simply asked for it in the ways they each enjoyed. Chloe reached her right hand out to rest it on Rachel's arm.

"What, is she going to have some sort of digital allergic attack?" Steph asked, a slightly delayed reaction which indicated she had probably dug the phone number up. The joys of google, Chloe mused. Rachel's eyes opened and her face contorted into a grimace.

"No," the blonde said, looking up to Steph. "It's just that she's more or less always craving it right now."

"Oh God," Steph exclaimed. "Which one of you is the baby daddy?" Chloe let herself smile and then shook her head, feeling almost as out of sorts about it as Rachel.

"That's the kind of food Max goes for when things are really not okay for her." Chloe shrugged, moved her hand from Rachel's arm and stroked the girl's hair, receiving a content smirk in response. "I'm not sure why."

"Hey," Steph said as she sat down on the far end of the couch, allowing Rachel to stretch her feet across the girl's lap. "We all have our comfort food." Steph was good about not being awkward around their affection with each other. Despite having had an apparent crush on Rachel, Steph seemed to be perfectly fine with the two of them cuddling around her. Absentmindedly, Chloe wondered precisely what would happen if Steph still happened to possess those feelings but she had never particularly asked Rachel about it. Things were complicated enough. "I'm a big, juicy cheeseburger type, myself."

"Not me," Chloe replied. "When I'm in the shittiest of moods I've got a much better comfort food." Tilting her head a bit, she conceded, "but a pint of rocky road really goes to your thighs." Steph nodded as if to say that was fair. In Chloe's lap, Rachel muttered something. Her eyes were closed again, though, so that she did not see Chloe's raised eyebrow. Rachel did not deign to repeat herself more loudly, so Chloe did not bother pursuing. "So," Chloe started, as Steph paused in what she was doing. "I know you're not down to DM a game, but I was wondering if you might want to play."

" That's why you borrowed my Dungeon Master's guide?"

"I've got my own coming in the mail," Chloe replied, not quite answering her question. Steph's face lit up slightly. It was enough to make Chloe happy she'd brought the idea up. "So, what about it?"

"I'm down," Steph said. "We can do it here." Chloe appreciated the last sentiment but she more enjoyed the gears visibly turning in Steph's head or the way her right hand clutched almost instinctively at a pencil that wasn't there. She wants to sketch character ideas already. Chloe stifled a laugh.

"What about you?" she asked Rachel. The girl neither opened her eyes nor answered. Chloe reached down and poked her once on the end of the nose, earning a smile and then a snicker. "That's what I thought, are you in?"

"I'm in," Rachel promised, though she strangely remained calm, eyes shut, as if on the verge of sleep.

"Then I think I can pull this off. We might want to start with like, a small adventure at first, just so we can find out whether I'm trash at this or not."

"You're going to be fine," Steph said, waving a hand dismissively. "You're quick enough on your feet and know how to plan ahead. Just read and actually prepare and you'll be fine."

"We'll probably need to have stand ins for a lot of monster miniatures, but other than that we'll be fine," Chloe continued, trying to get all of her thoughts about the process out there. "I think I have an idea for tokens which should work." Steph looked as if she had been about to return to the Scrubs marathon already in progress for a moment, but now she was engaged elsewhere, shooting between the conversation with Chloe and some corner of her imagination that none of them could reach. Though I've probably gotten close. She did her best not to go into peoples' dreams willingly, but sometimes it was hard to leave once you got in them. Whether that was because of getting distracted by the dream or some part of her simply not wanting to leave, she wasn't sure. Steph's mind could certainly beinteresting, in the way it organized dreams. If there was any consistency or continuity in them it came in brief jolts, kind of like Chloe's own. Often things were incredibly abstract. If she had permission, Chloe would probably stay through some of them.

There was only one person in the world, though, who gave her open permission to traipse around their dreams. That was the girl whose hair she continued to stroke, the blonde who seemed to be falling asleep in her lap. Chloe grinned down at her and then turned her attention back toward the two way split between a desire for Chinese and the coming campaign. If she did it right they could character create together the week school started and then maybe a week or two later begin. You've been planning this for weeks, chill out.

"We can convince Max easy," Rachel finally said. "She'll wanna play." She might, Chloe thought, or she might just want to spend time with us. Or both. "I think I know a fourth player we could try to recruit." This caught Chloe's attention. She had been planning on just three but sometimes running the game with too few people was supposed to be a little risky. The other system Steph knew, the one she had run the game for Mikey in, had mostly been homebrew. The campaign they had all played together was straight up Dungeons & Dragons and Chloe didn't think it would run too well with any less than three people. Three could probably pull it off, though. Four's fine.

"Who's that?" Steph asked the blonde, who rather than open her eyes, simply turned her head a little as if trying to get more comfortable as she prepared to fall asleep. Jesus, maybe it was more of a stressful day than I thought.

"She's pretty cool, but was having a really bad time at the end of last year. Think she's lonely." Stella? Chloe wondered. Stella was always having a bad time, it seemed. Chloe had tried on a few occasions to make friends with the girl but there was some sort of wall between her and most of the school. That would be precisely the kind of person Rachel would want to reach out to. "Brooke." Oh. Well then.

"Really?" Chloe asked, surprised. "I wouldn't have guessed she'd be into this."

"Nah, she's a gamer, man," Steph said.

"It wouldn't be too hard to convert her into a tabletop gamer," Rachel replied. "Besides, we know she's a total fucking nerd for fantasy stuff."

"We do?" Chloe asked. Brooke had been supportive enough of the modernization of the setting for their rendition of the Tempest that Chloe had always suspected something about the original must have rubbed her the wrong way. Come to think of it, she was starting to look pretty… frustrated at the end of the year. I thought it was just finals, though. Since Chloe and Max had both sat out the Spring production, she was rather out of the loop on what Brooke was up to. Jesus, why is everyone at Blackwell going through so much shit? Maybe that was just high school, Chloe decided. Though, in Stella's case, the brunette hadn't really broken out of her shell despite having been at the school for two years. Kind of like me before Rachel?

"I loaned her my copy of Return of the King," Rachel said, as if this made her point for her. "She left hers at home after Christmas Break and I guess she rereads the series every couple of years. Oh yeah, now that's a good sign. Feeling a little jazzed at the idea of a fourth player, Chloe shot Steph a look over Rachel's prone form and received a thumbs up. Try as she might she couldn't recall a time when Max and Brooke had been anything but friendly with one another. If anything they were probably closer than Chloe and Brooke were.

"Seals it, Rachel, you're in charge of making a convert of her."

"Aye captain," the blonde replied smartly, before nuzzling against her knee and growing still. "First, a powernap with my favorite pillow." Chloe chuckled. "I'll have my usual and see if this place makes it any better than the other." For a moment both of the artists on the couch shot confused looks at one another and then Chloe remembered that before she had interrupted them with talk of DnD, there had been plans for Chinese.

"Alright," Chloe promised her, returning to running her fingers through the girl's long, thick hair soothingly. "Just get some rest." And in the meantime, I need to plot. She resisted the urge to crack her knuckles by reflex only when she realized it would mean she would have to move her right hand and that just didn't seem like an option. Max, Rachel, Steph and Brooke. I wonder what kind of party they'll put together? It was a fair question: she would have to plan specifics aroundthose characters if she wanted it to feel more like a story they were telling together, something she hoped she had learned from playing three campaigns (technically two and some change) under Steph. This is gonna be good.