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.

Chapter Sixty-Four: Tiresias

April 23rd, 2012 3:33 PM

It was still fairly early in the afternoon, but Rachel could have sworn she had been awake for a full day already. She leaned back against the picnic table, raising an eyebrow at Max as the girl knelt and then snapped a photo. No one was particularly sure where Steph was and what she was up to, but they waited patiently for her. Chloe for the most part had been on her board or talking with the two of them about just how much work had sucked the Saturday prior, but seemed to be in a good mood, looking forward to the four of them hanging out. Max, on the other hand, had been a little photobug since classes let out. There had been, mercifully, several willing participants (Hayden, Logan, Dana, Taylor and Courtney) to sate Max's desire to photograph just about fucking anything. Max had already explained it as a coping mechanism, it was how she dealt with not running back to the dormitories. Rachel understood that. She couldn't help but feel bad for Stella, though, who had bolted from the school building at the sound of the final bell or Victoria who would be moving away next month. Max is hard on herself, but she's doing her best.

Today was a day for serious talk, yet it was hard for Rachel to start. Blackwell smelled of freshly cut grass, and the weather was in the sixties which was just barely too warm for Rachel to go back to her jacket but not so warm that she was uncomfortable. She liked the sixties. All told, she thought it was almost nice out there, especially with spring in full bloom. Max had had plenty of inanimate photography subjects since they had emerged from the school. Just talk to them. It's no big deal. Except, it was. Today she was going to talk to them about something that might ultimately mean their separation. That thought made her feel cooler than a moment before and not even in a pleasant way.

"I've been thinking about something," Rachel blurted out when it suddenly became really uncomfortable to fathom the implications of their talk. Chloe paused in playing with her phone to look over at Rachel, perhaps perturbed by the sudden, loud volume and high tone of her voice. Rachel swallowed against the tone, because she saw that not only did it make Chloe concerned, Max had jumped. The brunette was now watching her from two or three steps away looking incredibly uncomfortable. Max was uncomfortable a lot lately, but this time it looked potent enough to remind her of shortly after they first met. "I've been thinking and I think my mother's right. I want to go into acting and the Film, Theater and Television department at UCLA seems like the best place. If I keep my grades up and my mother does talk to her friend... I could make it in."

Even having tried to keep her voice calm, this all came out at once in a rapid word vomit. It showed, too, because even Chloe looked a little shell shocked when she finished. Rachel almost didn't dare to look toward Max. The bluenette smiled a little, as if to say she understood what Rachel was saying and then turned, not in avoidance but to check in on Max. Hesitantly, Rachel did the same. The girl was rooted to the spot, which was at least an improvement on the idea of her bolting back to the dormitories and shutting them both out. However, she had eaten once in the last two days and Rachel was worried about her. The idea of upsetting her, adding to her depression or anxiety was enough to make Rachel lose her appetite. Well, almost.

"What about you guys?" Rachel prompted, desperate to try to jar Max out of whatever state she was in. Not to mention, if she could get either of her girls talking then the desire to beg Max to go back in time and somehow stop her from saying anything might go away. Not that that would help Max. Fuck, this was a bad time. Of course it was a bad time. Of course it was, the school was like a prison for Max and she did not enjoy being out in the yard. The girl was despondent more often than usual, probably helped along by a slowly developing sense of isolation and even Chloe had felt the stress of the changes at Blackwell, though that probably had had something to do with being threatened by Nathan during Chemistry the day before. "Have you thought about what to do after Blackwell?" She knew they had, but no one else was talking and she needed someone, anyone to speak. Rachel didn't know what the consequences were of standing up and going to Max, letting on how worried she was about her. That occasionally backfired tremendously.

"I guess my biggest thing is that I want to be with you two," Chloe told her, finding her voice to a degree, though unable to keep the quiet tone of slight fear out of it. Rachel smiled at the girl, but when Chloe said nothing else, she became a little concerned.

"What else do you want to do?" Chloe shrugged in response.

"I can keep doing what I'm doing now, I guess, only more." As if oiling an old hinge, the punk's words came quicker after that. "I might also study chemistry or physics." Then, mercifully, Rachel received a boon and muscles in her body she did not know she had been holding tight relaxed. Max spoke, joining in on the conversation. Her chilled out, relaxed tone was obviously fake and forced but the girl crossed the gap between her and the Rachel and Chloe.

"What do you want to do with either of those?" Max asked her. Chloe's response was to shrug committally.

"I don't know yet, but there are some cool options with Chemistry especially," Chloe said and Rachel wanted to laugh because for a moment, despite both of her girls looking as out of sorts as she felt at the discussion, something about 'cool options with Chemistry' brought to mind Chloe as a Walter White sort of character. When Chloe narrowed her eyes at Rachel, she knew she'd been caught. "What are you about to laugh at?" Chloe asked her, suspiciously.

"Can you just say, 'We've got to cook!' in a really gruff voice for me?" Max snorted and that was music to both of their ears because even Chloe's lips upturned. The punk rolled her board back and forth in front of her across the table as if considering Rachel's request.

"Now, say my name," Chloe grunted in a poor facsimile of a 'Tough Guy' voice.

"Heisenberg," Max intoned, dramatically.

"You're god damn right." Max seemed content not to push Chloe any further and so Rachel chose to do the same. This was not the conversation they needed to have but it was the start, it was progress. There was just one part left to be played in this conversation and Rachel turned guiltily toward Max as the momentary amusement faded from the photographer's face. She rotated the old polaroid camera in her hands, over and over. Rachel remembered the day that Max had sat down and explained to her exactly how much that camera meant to her. She wasn't sure if Max had ever told the whole story to Chloe, but watching the way the girl toyed with it made Rachel realize that Max was feeling more vulnerable than Rachel had seen her in a long time. The worst part is, Max was trying desperately not to look at Rachel. She knew what was wrong. Talking of going to LA in a potential future might leave Max upset.

"I want to continue with photography, now that I'm back into it," the girl finally admitted. "Like, really back into it. I know I have to find something else to do, too, though. I had an idea a while back but I kind of decided it wouldn't work." This was Max engaging, maybe not with the idea of Los Angeles, but with the idea of a future, a future that did not take place at least sixty percent on the grounds of Blackwell Academy. Rachel wasn't sure whether to pounce on this or stay silent and let Max continue if she wanted to, but the girl continued to spin the camera in her hands and stare down. Chloe was not so hesitant to speak.

"What is it?" Chloe asked. "You should go for it, whatever it is. If you want to." When Max shook her head in answer, Rachel tried a softer touch.

"Why not?"

"I was thinking about something that's kind of in law, but I don't think I can... you know, morally."

"Why's that?" Rachel pushed again. She regretted doing so immediately when Max looked up and locked eyes with her for the first time since she had mentioned UCLA.

"Frank Bowers, Damon Merrick," Max told her. This time it was Rachel's turn to look away as her stomach twisted. Maybe today was the the day to go any further down this line, but Rachel stood and approached Max, not quite willing find out what Chloe thought of the topic, yet. Max did not pull away, did not flinch, did not even tense up. Instead when Rachel wrapped her arms around the girl and rubbed at her back softly, Max leaned against her. "I just don't want to be alone," Max confessed, and Rachel felt the way the girl's body shook with a soft, muffled half-sob. "And if that's not enough, then that sucks, but it's true."

"I didn't mean to push either of you," Rachel told them both as she pulled back from Max but kept one arm around the girl's shoulders. Chloe shook her head as if to try to reassure her. "I was just thinking about it, because I hope that whatever happens, we can be together."

"Yeah," Chloe agreed. "Me too."

"Me too," Max echoed.

"Are you sure?" Chloe asked, her voice suddenly changing drastically as she too rose to her feet, hefting her board under one arm and approaching. Max raised her head, confused as the bluenette locked eyes on her. Rachel was equally confused. "I mean, after all, you've got that date on Sunday." Playfully, Chloe nudged the girl in the ribs with her right elbow. To Rachel's surprise when she looked Max over, the girl did not look upset so much as nonplussed.

"You never paid up from your first bet with Rachel about Victoria, much less this one." That was true, Chloe had neither declared Rachel's awesomeness to the school nor shared a coke with her. Strictly speaking, that meant that Rachel might need to think of a way to collect on her debts. The air of the conversation was lighter, but Rachel understood what Max was thinking. She did not want to be without the two of them either and that was why she had been trying to bring this up for over a month and a half. Next time, fuckhead, maybe you start with that. Rachel tried to beam at Chloe's sudden sour face when suddenly Max's elbow dug hard into her side.

She turned to look first down at Max's face, only to see that the girl's attention was fixed somewhere. Only about ten feet away from them, Samuel was hauling a weed whacker over toward a tree, as if to clean up around the edges of it. When Chloe had also caught on to what – or who – Max was trying to gesture to, the photographer raised her eyebrows to them. Neither of them seemed to know exactly what Max was trying to convey, so Max gestured to the man and muttered that this was their chance to ask him questions. It was true, there looked to be no one around, not even the conspicuously missing Steph who would either show up soon or Rachel would be forming a search party for. That didn't seem like an exaggeration when Nathan was prone to fits of petty violence that tended to land people in hospitals. At Max's insistence, the three of them eventually found their way over to Samuel. Rachel noticed that the man looked as if he was hunching a little bit more under the weight of the weedwacker. For being a fairly active man who was not precisely elderly, he looked as if he was just not in great condition, sometimes. When they greeted him, it was from a respectful distance. It still took the man a second to straighten up, blink and then clutch his gloved hands together as if in some gesture of serenity that Rachel did not understand. Also, the dark purple gloves clashing with his light blue jumpsuit also struck Rachel as strange, but she was not sure why that might be. Samuel was a strange dude, but ultimately seemed to just be content helping when he could and feeding his squirrels.

"Max Caulfield, Chloe Price, Rachel Amber," the man started in his almost dreamy voice. Sometimes, he reminded her of Mr. Keaton. Other times he struck her as closer to Luna Lovegood of Harry Potter fame. "What can I do for you all this fine day? Well, as fine as it can be, when everyone hides inside." Come to think of it, they really had not seen that many people out and about when she considered that almost an hour had passed since school let out. Okay, but where's Steph? Rachel thought.

"How are you doing, Samuel?" Max asked him. Something about Max's voice was surprising. It was not all that differently than Max sounded when talking to Steph or Stella or even Kate. It was kind of an 'old friend' kind of tone. She had let on that in the other timeline the other Max had talked to Samuel a fair bit, but Rachel wasn't sure if her Max hadn't done the same or not.

"Samuel keeps busy," the man promised, laughing at himself. Maybe that was an understatement. "And that is quite a boon in troubling times. Then again, you didn't come to talk about Samuel's duties at the school, did you?" Rachel chuckled.

"You're right. You try to keep it a secret, but you're probably the smartest guy here, even counting most of the teachers," Rachel told him. This was one part buttering him up and one part a sneaking suspicion that they had come to have that Samuel had access to knowledge that he just shouldn't have if he were a normal person. Max insisted that in the other timeline he had known all about her powers. She had difficulty saying why she believed that, as retrieving specifics from her fragmented memory of the events of that timeline was not always possible. Rachel tended to believe her feelings on the subject, though and even Chloe had come around eventually.

"Samuel doesn't try to keep any secrets," the man argued waving his free hand as he lowered the machine in the other to the ground. Rachel wondered if it was her imagination or if the grey streaks in his hair had widened since the school year began. It wasn't that she had any idea of how old he actually was, but there was something young about parts of his face. She glanced back at Chloe and Max, wishing they would take charge of the conversation, either of them. Then again, approaching him today had been Max's idea. Actually, Rachel was a little disappointed in the three of them for never having done so before. "But, that is high praise. Thank you." At best, Rachel thought that that was Samuel deflecting and at worst, lying. It made her look at the man in a new way. Maybe he wasn't vindictive or malicious but he might also not be the harmless man he looked like. Maybe that image was curated.

"Can we speak bluntly?" Rachel asked when neither of the girls behind her had spoken. She felt more like being blunt with him was a good idea after confronting the possibility that maybe Samuel pretended to be just slightly bright while actually being incredibly so.

"I'd never ask someone to dull their words," Samuel said. When none of them reacted, he smiled briefly. "Sorry, Samuel likes his jokes." Rachel shrugged. While not exactly funny, once processed the comment was at least witty. It wasn't going to distract her from asking her question, especially since Max had gone suddenly mute. Even Chloe was not speaking though when Rachel glanced at her, her arms were crossed over her chest and she was smiling smugly back at Rachel. This is revenge. Rachel did have a tendency to put Chloe on the spot but that was at least half about Chloe being the better public speaker when she wasn't pissed off beyond all self-control.

"Have you ever seen someone at Blackwell who could do something, you know, something amazing?" Again, Samuel's half dismissive smile rose to his face. At least he had not laughed this time.

"Rachel Amber should know better than most: everyone here can do something amazing. This school is full of talent."

"What she means," Max tried, suddenly cutting across what would have been Rachel's slightly annoyed response to his deflection, "is have you ever known someone who can do things that people shouldn't be able to do?" The smile did not vanish from his face, but he also did not laugh and something about the smile grew a little sharper, a little more real. Rachel took a step back and lightly nudged Max forward.

"Samuel wonders," he said, raising one hand to his chin. The man's odd speaking habits aside, he seemed completely developmentally and intellectually capable. He was just eccentric. "If he had, those people would probably be keeping it a secret, guarded by their friends and loved ones." At this, the man's eyes narrowed slightly and he locked his gaze in on each of them in turn. Rachel pondered if this thought what it implied, that he knew about their abilities and that they were covering for one another.

"Samuel, are you one of these people?" Rachel asked him, now a little more calmly. That might make sense, if he truly knew about their abilities.

"Samuel is just Samuel," he said, which Rachel actually tended to think was a nonanswer. "And the thing Samuel values the most is being able to help those who need it, whether it means keeping the school clean or answering strange questions out in the open, in the middle of the day." Or whether it means keeping their secrets? Rachel wondered. Pairing that thought with him stressing, 'in the open, in the middle of the day' and Rachel got the feeling they weren't going to get a direct answer to this question.

"In the other timeline," Max whispered as she drew close to Rachel, "he definitely knew." At this Max stepped past Rachel and Chloe entirely and slipped her hands into her pockets. "Are there others, Samuel?" Max asked.

"And what if there were, Max Caulfield?" For a moment, the brunette looked genuinely stunned by the man's response. Not only had both of them all but admitted to having some kind of unnatural ability to each others' faces, but Samuel had not really said no. It really looked like the man was keeping names to himself. It looks like he's known things we could have learned this whole time, Rachel thought. After a moment of contemplation Max answered, but it sounded lame even to Rachel.

"If there were, I think I'd want to know."

"There are many reasons people keep secrets Max Caulfield. I think you know plenty about secrets."

"And how do you always know those secrets?" Chloe asked, speaking up for the first time. It was no longer about playfully making Max and Rachel talk for once. She was tuned into the conversation the same was the rest of them and had to know that they were on the verge of maybe learning something world changing. Or maybe we already have.

"Oh Samuel? Samuel just notices things sometimes," the man promised, as if returning to his innocent, know-nothing pretense.

"Yeah, right."

"We won't keep you much longer," Max insisted over Chloe's unamused response. Samuel gave a brief shrug as if to say he had all of the time in the world. "There's just one last question, because you know, you notice things and seem to have the pulse of the school."

"Of course. Samuel enjoys being able to help."

"What do you think it's going to take to make Blackwell safe again?" Max asked. This was such a massive tonal shift that Rachel shivered for the first time all day. She felt the fingers of Chloe's left hand intertwine with her right's. There was no pretense of thoughtful pondering, no pretending that his words carried no weight or that he was just a simple janitor and grounds keeper that no one paid attention to. The question seemed to have struck Samuel as heavily as it had Rachel. The man lifted his eyes and uncharacteristically locked them with Max's. He never really made eye contact with people unless making some serious, weighted statement.

"Tragedy," Samuel responded, his face growing genuinely sad. Max shifted uncomfortably on the spot. "Some things can't be fixed, Max. Some tragedies can't be avoided with good timing." The man's gaze lingered on her a second or two longer than Max seemed fine with because she stepped back from him and all but ran into Rachel. "Or burned away," Samuel looked past Max, who turned around, to Rachel. "Or resisted." When he looked at Chloe this time, Rachel felt the girl's hand tighten in her own. "But sometimes it's kind of like a bad fire: new growth can result." The man smiled briefly at them all in turn. Rachel felt as if his eyes had lingered on her the longest, but the shiver did not come this time. "Old Samuel better be getting back to work, girls. It is a good day, not one for looking behind, not one for being lost and not one for looking ahead."

The man turned back to his weedwacker, picked it up and started it in one fluid motion, the sadness wiped from his face. Rachel backed away. Chloe and Max did the same. She did not turn until Samuel had begun his work around the base of the tree. Then, after several seconds of closing the gap between them and the picnic table that they had been seated at before, Rachel looked around. They were far enough away now to be heard over the sound of the machine, but had not quite reached the table when Rachel gazed back at the man in his pale jumpsuit and watched the way he crab walked around the tree, hunched forward. She would definitely never look at Samuel the same way again.

"Did I imagine that, or did we just actually learn something?"

"I don't think you imagined it," Chloe cut in, not releasing Rachel's hand. Max nodded

"That was the most direct I've ever heard him be about anything," Max mused.

"Not me," Chloe told her. "Not by a long shot." At this even Max was so interested in the statement that Chloe had to wave both her and Rachel off to get them back on topic. Rachel planted her ass on the bench at the picnic table and waited for someone to say something.

"I mean," Max started, "So many implications. He might have powers, he knows we do, he might know others who do and is keeping a secret for their sake. Maybe even other students, here at Blackwell. But there's one thing we learned for sure." The girl's look of wonder faded. It was a fairly haunting effect, so Rachel almost didn't want to ask what that was. She still did. As Max settled on her left and Chloe on her right, the photographer continued. "We learned that something really bad is coming. Tragedy." Tragedy. I wonder if he means it in the theatrical sense. When Rachel thought about it, they had all the pieces for a classic tragedy here: star crossed lovers, jilted parents, supernatural forces beyond the understanding of man and one driving force uniting them all into one or two important plotlines: neutralizing the threats to the school. The question was who the character to tragically die was going to be. Rachel hoped it was not one of them.

Rachel and Max were waiting for Chloe and Steph in the parking lot nearest the lookout and the park when they finally pulled up in Chloe's truck, Pompidou sticking up from the seat between them, great tongue lolling from his mouth. She smiled to Max, who grinned in response. The dog looked excited as hell. As the two of them watched from the edge of the lot, he attempted to spin around in place on the seat, in the process tail whipping both girls still in the truck. Rachel was trying not to think too much about the place. It had been an important location to Rachel, meaningful. A large park with an overlook above it from which to survey it, it was both where Rachel and Chloe had first laid eyes on Rachel's mom and the sight of her first major fire.

It was the place, Rachel suspected as the bluenette leapt from the truck, trailing the end of Pompidou's leash behind her, where she and Chloe had first genuinely bonded. The grass in the park had regrown. There has been new growth. She didn't shiver again, but the day suddenly felt cool enough that she wished she had her jacket, after all. That's silly, she told herself, having not worn it since early April, since before San Francisco. I do have that patch I should put on it, Rachel remembered.

"Are you doing okay?" Max asked her as they watched Chloe struggle to get Pompidou to stay calm and Steph stall getting out of the truck for some reason. Rachel still wasn't sure what had taken Steph so long, but the girl had not been in the greatest mood lately, so she had thought it best not to push.

"It's weird to think someone out there might know what we can do other than Steph," Rachel told her. Chloe leaned through the door to talk to Steph, though what about or even what tone the conversation had, Rachel couldn't tell.

"It is," Max agreed. "I get the feeling he learns things from dreams, somehow."

"Like Chloe?"

"Maybe, but maybe not. He doesn't seem like the type to go into peoples' dreams at night." They had all but decided that he was like them in some manner, whatever his reasons to keep quiet about it were. "You know, I wonder who else might have powers around here?"

"David has Super Douchery," Rachel submitted, smiling despite herself. At the truck, Steph pushed her door open.

"Juliet's probably like, bat hearing or X-Ray Vision and we know Hayden's got Superhuman Patience, he was friends with Nathan for how long?" Rachel glanced over at Max. It was clear that the girl had relaxed. Then again that might have as much to do with being off campus and theoretically far away from Nathan's grasp than anything else. When it was clear that Steph and Chloe could see them, Rachel took Max's hand and started to lead the photographer up toward the Overlook. Even from just the top step, Rachel could tell that Culmination State Park looked much nicer than the last time she had been there. That probably had something to do with it not being on fire, though. God, that was so long ago, she mused as she approached the old binoculars set along the edge of the lookout. No one had repaired the broken one: its change box still sat busted open after Chloe had retrieved their last quarter from it.

There were people out there playing. A couple of boys looked to be throwing a football back and forth. It could be Logan and Zachary, for all the casual passing that went on, but it probably wasn't. A couple played by a new bench with their very young child. Rachel didn't need binoculars to recognize them: the way they stood, the love and affection they showed each other was familiar from a distance. Rachel elbowed Max and pointed out toward them. It took Max a second to see what she was pointing at, but eventually the girl smiled softly.

"Chloe and I stole wine off them once," Rachel told her, amused at the memory. "Right here."

"I know," Max told her, patting her on the hand. "I was watching. It's a shame you weren't a better method actor back in the day, I don't think Chloe would have let you live the CPR down." Floored, Rachel stepped back from Max. She crossed her arms over her chest and stared pointedly, this time not at the couple but at Max Caulfield who she hoped was about to take her meaning, that she had better start talking fast, or else. Max chuckled a little nervously but Rachel wasn't sure this was exactly a laughing matter. Dumbfounded, Rachel listened.

"I was here that day. I was here when the fire was set and since I'm being honest, I was also at the Firewalk show." At this, Max turned away from her and far from appearing worried or upset, half sung under her breath. "'cause we've waited all our lives, and now's our fuckin' time," The girl was not exactly singing the song with the same passion in her voice that the vocalist did, but Rachel had heard it time and time again since that night and while it was possible Max was lying as she had certainly sat in on a listen or two of that Firewalk EP, she didn't think that Max had a reason to lie and say that she was there. Holy fucking shit.

"I can't believe you've never told us."

"It's never come up before."

"What hasn't?" Rachel turned back. Chloe was doing her best to keep Pompidou from tearing her off of her feet as he strained at his leash to sniff at everything, but eventually he pulled Chloe along toward them. Steph trailed behind the girl. Steph looked fine if a little tired, maybe a little sore even. Rachel figured that if Steph was in a poor mood or something had happened, they would learn about it sooner or later. Steph was not the quiet type. Then again, in that moment she was looking between Chloe, Max and Rachel with unbridled curiosity, mouth shut as she tried eagerly to hear what was going on. Rachel knelt down when Pompidou came running over to them, but, almost as if taunting her, Max stayed standing, humming the next couple of bars of the song in question.

"Chloe, Max was at the Firewalk show," Rachel told her. "The one at the mill. And she was here, the day we saw my mom... and the night." Momentarily surprised, Chloe was jerked forward a step or two as Max turned back to face them and Pompidou shot from beneath Rachel's petting hands toward the brunette who always gave him ear scratches.

"I wanted to make sure that coming here didn't somehow disrupt things," Max said, voice-half serious. "Besides, after you two ran off into the crowd together, I stayed around for the show. It was badass."

"Are you fucking with us?" Chloe asked her as Max knelt down beside Pompidou.

"Always," Max promised before beaming a grin up at Chloe. Rachel found Steph mirroring that smile a bit disturbing but chose not to comment on it. Steph and Max were so often in it together when it came to giving Chloe grief. Rachel joined in as often as they let her but usually had her own ways of bothering Chloe. "But I'm not lying about this." As for Rachel, she stared at the side of Max's head blinking. She wasn't upset, just surprised. Then again, there was one question she had to ask. If Max had truly been everywhere back then -

"Why didn't you stop the fire?" Rachel queried, lowering her voice the minute she heard it come out hard and hurt. Max slowed petting the dog but did not stop. She did however, look up to Rachel. Rachel was fairly certain she had already confirmed her part in that first wildfire to Steph so there was no one nearby who should not hear what was going on. "I'm sorry," Rachel started, shaking her head. "I-"

"No," Max interrupted her, looking a bit as if someone, as if Rachel had just slapped her across the face. "It's okay." It didn't feel okay. Blaming Max for something she had done did not seem like something which was anywhere close to okay. It wasn't Max's fault that Rachel didn't know how to control her temper, didn't understand her emotions and apparently had not grown as much in all of this time as she had hoped, if her most recent confrontation with Nathan was anything to go by. "You're gonna hate the answer because I hate it myself. I hate me for it."

"You don't have to-" Rachel tried again, but Max only shook her head.

"I wanted to preserve the timeline enough that I knew roughly how things would fall out. Remember, I still thought I was someone else. I thought I had some specific mission. I worried that if I stopped the fire, Juliet would make it to the play on time and if that happened," Max exhaled a shaky breath and stood back up, earning an almost affronted look from the pup at her feet. "If that happened, you two might never have- you know." Max looked between Chloe and Rachel and part of Rachel couldn't help but wonder if Max had followed them back to her home that night. Probably not, but it was a possibility. "The one thing I never wanted was to come between you two. Even back then, you two being happy was the most important thing. And I'm sorry for that but I'm not as sorry as I should be."

"Don't be," Chloe insisted as she approached. Rachel rose to full height beside Max. Steph followed Chloe to them. "You weren't yourself." Conflicted, Rachel turned and pressed her lips to Max's cheek. She did not pull back quickly, she let the kiss sit there for a moment before she did and then whispered into Max's ear that everything was alright. "Right," Chloe agreed. "Because today's not about 'looking back,' right?" Perhaps echoing Samuel was not Chloe's finest decision, but Rachel didn't push it. They were at Culmination State Park, all four of them and Pompidou to boot. They could turn this into a good day if they chose to.

"Right," Steph echoed. Once the four of them were down in the park proper, Chloe released Pompidou from his leash and revealed that the backpack over her shoulder which was stretched oddly widely had been keeping one of his favorite toys for him. Rachel took part in passing the frisbee, sometimes back and forth, sometimes out for Pompidou. She enjoyed watching the moment unfold, a warm spring afternoon, Max taking photos, Pompidou's tail wagging insistently until such time as one of them threw the frisbee out and away from them all for him to chase after and bring back drool covered. She was so lost in a sort of reflection on how this fit or did not fit with all that she had learned that day, with everything that what Max and Samuel said suggested about the world, that when the frisbee came flying at her, Rachel was not paying attention. As a result, she almost had her legs taken out from under as Pompidou came charging for the toy.

Honestly, even with the knowledge that Max had been aware and watching more than Rachel thought she had, even with the idea that Arcadia Bay, that even Blackwell could be home to more individuals with power than Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters, the world looked ultimately beautiful. All of the ugliness seemed to be concentrated in an area of ooze emitting from one or two individuals. Rachel Amber did not see how tragedy could strike, not now. She ended their afternoon in the park sitting in the grass with a dog's head on her knee as he tried to guilt trip her into petting him with big, puppy eyes. She ended their afternoon in the park listening to the snap of Max's camera before the girl sat down beside her. She ended it watching Chloe and Steph passing a cigarette back and forth while Steph talked about the potential of animating for the company her father worked for. (Rachel rather thought that Steph's art could tell amazing stories if she chose to pursue that route.) Rachel ended that afternoon at the park, content. If there was tragedy coming, this was the calm before the storm and she was just fine enjoying that.