October 11th, 2013 - Current Timeline

Last thing she knew, Chloe had her middle fingers flying in a double salute to step-douche, yelling at him to go eat a bag of dicks, the world had gone white, that mindfuck time field closing around her, and she vaguely recalled thinking to herself how perhaps her plan could have gone a little better.

Then the white faded away and the cold rain pelted down on her once more. She still held the photo in her hand, that photo of that day, but Max, Max was no longer holding the photo. Chloe couldn't see her. The world just wouldn't come back into focus. God, her head hurt. She blinked trying to pull the world together into some semblance of order; some facsimile of reality. As she did, she felt a light touch against her arm. Someone was reaching for her.

"Are you… are you okay?"

Max's stuttering voice called to her. Chloe blinked the rain and tears from her eyes.

"Max…" She had to pull herself together but that photo jump, the return trip was a bitch.

"Nothing," came that voice, just below her. Why was Max laying in the mud? Chloe tried to focus on her friend as the girl continued to speak.

"It didn't work," Max said.

What didn't work, Chloe thought, then it all came flooding back. She'd botched that jump completely. Max had risked so much sending her back and she, what had she done? She had to tell her.

"Max. Max… I think I messed up." Finally Max came into focus as the pain subsided and Chloe regained what composure that she could. The girl was turned from her, her hand having already slipped away from Chloe's arm, as Max focused on the storm devastating Arcadia Bay in the distance.

"What?" Max turned back to Chloe, seemingly registering what she had just said. Spittle clung to Max's chin, and Chloe could see bile on her shirt. Fuck. What had that done to Max?

"I… I fucked it up." No sugar coating it. Not after what you've put her through.

A new fire lit in Max's eyes, a gleam that Chloe had rarely seen. There was a fierce determination burning now, and, in this moment, Chloe wouldn't bet against Max for the world.

"Tell me everything," the girl said, and Chloe obliged.

She told her everything: about the shock of seeing Rachel, about her sticking around instead of leaving, about herself slipping and telling Rachel to avoid everyone on God's green earth; about fighting with her about Frank and yelling at David, about the whole explosion of volatile emotions that had erupted in her room and doomed them from the start. She told her everything about that jump, everything except for that kiss. That Chloe kept to herself. She couldn't say why she did, but somehow she couldn't bring herself to look at Max and admit to that act – which made no sense. Max was her best friend, while Rachel was (had been) her girlfriend. Yet, the guilt came nonetheless, flooding in with every memory of that kiss and every look towards Max. Although she kept denying it, Chloe knew why… if she were only honest with herself.

Honesty's overrated.

"Okay," Max said. Judging by the twitchiness of her mannerisms and the indecisiveness in her pacing, it appeared to Chloe that her friend was attempting to collect herself and her thoughts; and struggling to do so at that. "You ran out of time…" Max continued. "You tried, but… but you couldn't leave a message."

That's a nice way of putting it, Chloe thought. Leave it to Max to try to play down my fuckup for me.

Chloe fought against the urge to leave it at that, to accept Max's sanitized version of events; yet she couldn't let it lie. She'd royally screwed the pooch.

"Failed to leave myself a message, and got into a knock-down blowout fight with Rachel." Yeah, that about covers it, she thought. She hesitated, as if reviewing the incident searching for any other relevant details, then continued. " Yeah, that's about it. Fought with Rachel. Fought with David. Didn't leave a message. Might've got dumped."

"And your diary? You couldn't find your diary, right?"

Chloe felt pretty certain that she had made this point clear, but if Max needed to hammer this home, sure whatever.

"No, no I fucked that up, too; thanks for the reminder. I hadn't really needed my dairy in a while, Max."

"Then forget about it," Max said, pushing right past Chloe's bitter sarcasm. Chloe didn't know whether to be hurt for being ignored or thankful that Max let it slide given the seriousness of the situation. "You'd likely ignore the diary anyway if you saw it, the other you that is. I mean if you at the time couldn't even remember where it was or when you last used it, not like you're going to open it up and read the message."

Point taken. Wait… what does that matter now?

"What do you mean forget my diary?" Chloe said. " I already botched this job, Max?" And she had; so, so unconditionally botched it.

"That's the thing about time travel, Chloe." Max's words cut through her self-loathing, and Chloe looked over to find that determination still burning in Max's eyes.

"You don't just get one shot," she continued. "This time you're going to leave yourself a message, but you're going to forget about finding that diary. You said you came across a bunch of our old shit in the closet, right? The time capsule?"

"Yeah." Chloe thought about saying more, about stopping Max where she was, before she took this too far. She could see where she was going; maybe not the particulars of it, but she knew Max was offering her another chance. The problem was another chance at a message also meant another chance to hurt Max. She could see the toll that the strain of her powers was taking on her and Chloe didn't want any part of that. She wanted to say as much, but, before she could, Max made to stand.

Chloe knew immediately that Max had made a mistake. The girl wavered, fell forward, and began dry heaving into the rain-soaked dirt. Chloe snapped to her side, pulling Max's hair back, and holding one hand to her shoulder. Max was in pain and Chloe, she would do whatever she could to comfort her; she'd hold her, and she'd be there for her no matter what. All other thoughts, the strain of it all, Max's plan, the storm, they all washed away in the rain.

"Maximus?"

"No blood. Just bile. At least there's that?"

That doesn't sound comforting at all. What sort of standard is that?

"This is," she gestured at Max, "part of the usual? The new usual? Like hard returns?"

"No. This is new… newer. Brand new. I'm thinking 'time nausea' for future reference." Max offered a pained chuckle, and Chloe could tell that her friend wanted to lighten the mood. She seized on the opportunity; this was something that Chloe was good at.

"That's lame. We can come up with something better than that," Chloe offered. "Chrono Cramps. Temporal Tummy Aches. Quantum Queasiness. Sequential Stutters. 4th Dimensional —"

"— I get the picture, Chloe."

"Hey, I'm just spit-balling here."

Max held up her hand, and Chloe pulled her to her feet. "You said the tape recorder was with the time capsule?" Max asked.

"Yeah," Chloe nodded, then her eyes went wide and she smacked her head. "Fuckin' hell. I'm a moron."

"Chloe, don't." Max pulled at Chloe's hand, tearing it back before she could smack herself again, and then shifted so that their eyes were locked. "It's my fault, Chloe. I rushed this."

And sure she had. Chloe knew that, but she also understood the pressing concern bearing down on them, the destruction of Arcadia Bay growing worse by the second. Max couldn't be blamed for that catastrophe, and Max needed to understand that.

"Well, yeah." Chloe grabbed Max by the shoulders. "The storm is tearing Arcadia apart. I don't think anyone would blame you for being in a hurry."

"Here, now, yes. But there's still no rush. We can take our time to do this right. If we do, none of this ever happens to begin with."

Damn it. She has a point. Chloe's head hurt. She was really starting to loathe four-dimensional thinking.

"I hate time travel," she said, leaving it at that. And she did. She really did hate it. Of course, it was also the only reason she was still alive. And the reason that a storm is tearing your shithole of a home town apart. Why Max is bleeding and vomiting and suffering right in front of you.

Chloe tugged off her beanie and ran a shaky hand back through her head of blue hair. The rain still fell cold and hard, stabbing into her. They couldn't stay out here forever in the freezing rain; in the open field as the winds whipped through and the sounds of falling trees and distant destruction hounded them. It was torture and stupidity; the danger of the elements just as perilous as the storm bearing down upon Arcadia Bay (well, maybe not just as perilous, but risky all the same).

Beside her, Max sniffled, then fell gently into Chloe's side, as if snuggling into her. Yet another thing you're not going to read into right now, Chloe. Time and a place…

"I'm not its biggest fan either," Max said. "Of time travel that is. But if it keeps you alive, I think I'll take the consequences."

Max pushed away then, hugging herself as the distance between them grew. Chloe immediately missed the gentle warmth, however meager, of Max pressed into her.

"Come on." Max waved her on. "We need to get out of this rain, and think." Max turned from Chloe then, wavering a little as she did. Chloe tugged her beanie back into place and bridged the gap between them, bracing Max by the hip, and attempting to hold the girl steady.

"Not many options on that front, Maxi-taxi."

Max ignored her and pushed on out of her grasp.

"The worst has already passed the lighthouse," she said, stumbling towards it as she spoke.

"Are you sure, Max? It doesn't look very stable. I mean I'm all for getting out of the rain, but…"

"This is how the emergency crews find it. We'll be safe inside, and slightly less wet."

With that, Max made to head towards the jagged spire of the ruined lighthouse, but faltered on her next step. Her legs could barely support her.

Chloe slid back under her arm and propped her up. She could still feel the deep muscle aches throughout her back and shoulders, the overall body hurt of hoisting her friend up the trail. Yet it felt better now, better than it had when they first crested the hill to the overlook. She could make it a few more feet.

"I got ya Max. I think I still have my DIY lock picks on me, too."

"Really, Chloe?"

The look of questioning disbelief and frustration that Max shot her way should have made Chloe angry, or at least hurt; but that look with those furrowed brows over those deep blue eyes and those freckled cheeks, it was just too damn cute, and fuck, there she was thinking about Max as cute and she really didn't have the emotional wherewithal to deal with that thought right now – even if she had been thinking it all week.

Fuck! Later, Chloe. Later.

If there is a later.

"Come on," she said, burying all thoughts of Max's adorable indignation as deep as she could. "Thief skill check, round 2?"

"Fine." Max shrugged. "Give it a shot."

That's the spirit, she thought, not failing to note the complete lack of enthusiasm in Max's voice. Still, she had just been worried about the rain herself, and if Max said that the lighthouse would be safe, then it was their best bet. If only so much destruction didn't lie between them and that destination: namely the giant fallen tree and shattered remains of the shed blocking their path to the door. No way Chloe trusted Max to climb over that wreckage in her current state.

"Alright, Max," Chloe started. "Price versus the door, round two, coming right up. First, we got to get you up and over."

Chloe halted their progress before the fallen tree, kneeling and bracing her hands out, palms up, before her knee. "Care for a boost?"

"My, how chivalrous." Max smirked as she spoke, and there were those damn butterflies in Chloe's gut again, and fuck if she hadn't had enough of butterflies for one lifetime, let alone however many lifetimes she had already actually used up.

"You know me, Max," Chloe smirked back. "I'm nothing if not a stickler for courtesy and all that romantic, misogynist bullshit. Now shake your bony ass on up here."

Max complied, the cold tread of her Chucks settling into Chloe's hands, as Chloe lifted her up towards the fallen tree. Max scrabbled for a purchase and Chloe held tight below until at last Max appeared to have found a solid trip and stabilized herself atop the tree. The small girl reached a down for her, and, reluctantly, Chloe took her hand, but not before securing her other grip on a branch at Max's feet. Doubly-braced, Chloe hauled herself up beside Max, steadying herself against the rough, yet slippery purchase of the splintered wood and bark.

Then, just as Chloe found her balance, Max shifted, scrambling through the snapped limbs to find a path down only to suddenly fall forward, reaching back to Chloe as she did. Without even thinking, Chloe grasped her childhood friend and lost her own balance completely in the process. Twisting and tumbling, they fell, snapped branches smacking into flailing limbs, rough bark scratching at exposed skin, and scattered rocks bludgeoning against them, until finally the two landed in a tangled heap on the other side of the tree. Fighting to disentangle herself, Chloe rolled over and off of Max, just in time to see the hull of a speed boat fly through the air overhead, where they had just been looming atop the tree. Below her, Max took a deep breath.

"Fuck," Chloe said. "Okay, so yeah, shelter sounds like a great idea."

"Glad to have you aboard the plan, Captain Bluebeard."

That's an odd callback, Chloe thought, casting Max a bewildered stare. Still, she might as well play along.

"Aye, Long Max Silver." She stood, brushing off dirtied knees, and then reached down to help Max to her feet. As she waited for her friend to accept her offer, Chloe scanned her surroundings searching for any more incoming debris. Staring off into the swirling chaos of that storm, she jumped as she felt an oddly cold sensation along the back of her hand. Turning to look, she noticed the letter V now scribbled there across her wet skin, while Max pocketed a Sharpie.

"Uh, Mad Max, what's that about?"

"Nothing, it's just thin here… Can't really keep everything straight."

"Uh-huh." Yeah, that didn't explain a thing. Chloe nodded nonetheless, and decided to return her focus to the task at hand. The lighthouse waited mere steps away. Helping Max the remaining distance, Chloe then knelt before the entry, determined to come up victorious as she once again squared off with a locked door. At the same time, she noticed Max hobble off to her right towards the wreckage near the shed.

"Where you off to Maximus?"

"Nowhere," she said.

"Can you even walk?"

"I'm regaining my sea legs." The way Max wobbled as she spoke didn't really help her point, but Chloe couldn't watch after Max and open the door. She simply shook her head and turned back to the lock, trying to keep an eye on the girl out of the corner of her eye as she did. Just a moment later, her picks barely in the lock, and something flashed in Chloe's periphery. When she returned her attention towards the shed, Max was gone.

"Max?"

A click sounded and the door to the lighthouse creaked open.

"Son of a bitch!"

Max simply smiled from inside and waved Chloe in.

"That's so cheating. Stupid, time travel bullshit."

"You're welcome."

"Yeah, thanks or whatever." Chloe pocketed her lock-picks in a huff and tugged on her beanie. To be fair, she wasn't just mad that Max had opened the door before she could pick the lock (again), but that Max was exerting herself when she was already so far beyond her limit. "We could've got in without your rewind."

"I know, Chloe." Max was trying to reassure her; to comfort her hurt ego, but Max just didn't understand. She didn't get that this wasn't all about Chloe Price's hurt ego (not completely).

"Not that. Fuck me. I'm a big girl." Max's eyes went wide at that and Chloe parsed through her words, and stopped as her mind went straight to the gutter. Probably should have phrased that better. Then her own eyes shot open wide. Wait, why is Max blushing? Had she gone there, too?

Uh-uh. Not thinking about it. Carry on.

"You know what I mean," she shouted, hoping to drown out her wandering thoughts. "Fuck! You, you shouldn't waste your power. You look on the brink of death already."

"Oh." Max's eyes softened and her boulders sagged.

Great. Now, you've gone and squashed her fucking spirit. Chloe hated seeing Max deflate like that, and she knew perhaps she hadn't needed to yell like she had, yet she also knew that she was right. Max's powers had to be a last resort, not their go to strategy. .

"It's nothing, really," Max continued. "A few minutes back, that's nothing now. I barely feel it."

Chloe supposed this was possible. This Max, she seemed to have been through so much more. From their conversation on the overlook, it was clear that she wasn't the Max that had started up that hill from the beach. Yet even so, Chloe doubted that things were as rosy as the girl before her painted them. Unfortunately, she also didn't have the energy to argue.

"Ok. So how'd you do it?"

"It?"

"Get in?"

"Oh. Large piece of rubble from the old shack. I had to have you help carry it, and then bash in the handle. I actually… I couldn't do it. You had to do the honors for me… if that helps."

"Yeah, Max, that actually helps." She smiled, a cocky little grin and realized that yeah, it did help knowing that she got to break something in the middle of this shitstorm, even if for her it had never happened.

That thought still dancing through her head, Chloe stumbled into the lighthouse. With much of the upper building missing, rain seeped inside in spots, but the two of them could at least take partial shelter within and the walls did block the cold of the wind. Straight ahead of Chloe, a great column rose off from a circular base that wrapped around it like a bench seat, while along the outer wall rested a welcome desk and a rack of water-logged brochures. A little further on rose a spiral staircase – that classic black metal staircase one imagines in old libraries or haunted mansions… and apparently lighthouses. Just on the other side of that column, Chloe could make out a sheltered enclosure beneath the stairs. It definitely looked to be the driest spot in the building and was exactly where she planned to go.

Max threw out her hand stopping her before Chloe could step forward. Suddenly a stray rebar shot like a bullet through the wall, impaling itself into the center column.

Chloe took a deep breath. Had Max not stopped her…

"Max?"

Max didn't bother to answer. She tugged violently on Chloe's arm, pulling her up onto the bench seat and around to the side of the column opposite of the rebar bullet. As they stepped up, Max jerked to a sudden halt just as a car-sized chunk of flooring crashed down from above and bowled over the side of the column like an avalanche. Chloe couldn't help but to notice that the only spot unaffected happened to be exactly where they were standing.

"Max? I thought you said the worst had already happened? That the lighthouse was safe?"

"From the outside it looked good, looked right," she shrugged, wiping a fresh stream of blood from her nose. She was shaking again and Chloe moved in to support her once more. "I never saw inside it until we first came in."

"First? You mean just now?" Chloe felt certain that Max did not mean just now, and that thought really, truly, ate at her.

"Sure," Max said.

That seals it. That didn't sound like the truth at all. She totally didn't fucking mean just now.

Chloe started to ease Max down along the column, as if to sit her at its base. They were going to talk this out. Max, however, shook her head, her eyes winced shut, and pointed towards the nook under the staircase. Taking the hint (it wasn't very subtle), Chloe shifted gears and supported Max over the rubble and down into the enclosed shelter offered by the stairs. As she took a seat beside the girl, Chloe asked the obvious question.

"How many times have we come inside the lighthouse?"

Max stared up for a moment then glanced down to Chloe's hand. "Five times, now, I think."

Chloe paused, following Max's gaze to where she had marked with the sharpie as they had fallen down from the tree. "That's not a V on my hand is it?"

"No." Max hung her head.

Chloe unrolled the sleeve of her jacket, then dabbed at Max's nose with the cuff, clearing away the fresh stream of blood. "That's too much, Max. You're going to push yourself too far."

"I think this is the last time."

The lack of confidence in Max's voice did little to assure Chloe.

"So, why mark me?"

"I should have thought about it before. It gets confusing. Time is so thin here. I don't always know which Chloe is now."

"Which Chloe?"

"There'll be time for that later." Max shuffled back against the wall, deep under the stairs, curling into the dry nook. Chloe squeezed in after her.

"And now?"

"Now, we have to discuss the plan."

"The plan?"

"Yeah. How you save Rachel."

Of course. That plan. Chloe thought about it for a moment, then raised an eyebrow to Max. "How do you know I didn't? I mean I warned her to stay away from Nathan and Jefferson. Maybe I didn't write a message to my old self, but I did warn her."

"No. No, she's not alive. Not now. I'm sorry." A fierce certainty clung to Max's words, one that for the life of her, Chloe could not understand.

"It's not like I remember the new timeline," she said. "Do you? She could be in LA now for all we know." Chloe could hear the desperation in her own voice, but that didn't negate her point. If neither of them remembered this timeline, if neither of them had known to write a message to their future selves, then they had no way of knowing if Rachel was alive or not.

"No, I don't remember, but… Chloe, I know she's not."

"But how do you know?" Chloe pulled out her phone. Maybe there was a way to sort this out. She tapped over to Rachel's number, ready to call, only to find that she had no service. Stupid time storms.

Max placed her hand over Chloe's own, lowering it and the phone with it.

"The storm made short work of the cell towers," she said.

"Still, there's a chance." There was that desperation, again. Was it because she wanted to see Rachel, or because she wanted Max to stop fucking with space and time?

No reason it couldn't be both.

"There's not, Chloe." Max lowered her head. She does that a lot now, Chloe thought. She considered mentioning it, or even arguing about Rachel some more, but Max's next words stopped her cold.

"There's no chance. The tornado is still here."

It took Chloe only a moment to register Max's meaning, but even then she didn't fully grasp it.

"Wait." Chloe lifted Max's head back to her. Yeah, I do that a lot now, too, don't I? Moving on. Focus. "You're saying if she lives, there's no tornado. If Rachel lives, Arcadia Bay lives?"

"It's not that simple, but yeah, if she lives there's no tornado."

"Wait… are you saying?"

"I've saved Rachel before? Yes."

Chloe fell back against the concrete wall of the lighthouse, banging her head against a low stair as she did. Fuck. She rubbed at her head, wincing slightly from the pain, but all things considered, that was fairly minor. What wasn't was the implication of Max's words. Rachel's death and the tornado were linked. No death, no tornado. More, Max had saved Rachel already; yet she had abandoned that timeline.

"If there was no tornado, why'd you come back?"

"It's not that simple, Chloe."

"You've said that."

"And I will keep saying it. I don't have all the answers, but we're going to try something new, and maybe this time we'll get there. We just, we need an actual plan."

Chloe massaged at her temples. This was all getting to be too much.

"A fire, Chloe. It's always something." Max stared up towards the column as she spoke, her eyes distant. Chloe followed Max's gaze up to that central column where they had been just a moment earlier. What the hell was she staring at now? Then? When? Fuck!

"Max?" Chloe watched her friend as she sat there listening to something or someone that she could not hear.

"No, Chloe. That doesn't work either. It doesn't." Damn it. Max was losing her grip on the present.

"Max," Chloe said. "I'm right here."

Max turned, meeting her eyes once more. "Which one is, now?"

"I'm now." As she spoke, Max glanced to Chloe's hand and the roman numeral on its back.

"Of course," she said. "Of course you are. Gotta remember to check the hand."

"So what's the plan, Max?" She needed to get Max to focus, to distract her from whenever she was seeing.

"One moment, Chloe. I can't see this." Max shut her eyes and covered her ears. Another shock rattled through the lighthouse and somewhere above a floor crumbled apart, debris collapsing down and rebounding off the stairs above them only to plunge to rest right in front of the column, exactly where Chloe had been lowering Max to sit before the girl hauled her off under the stairs.

"Max," Chloe called. "Max?"

Her friend opened her eyes and let out a deep sigh. As their eyes met, Chloe noticed that Max pointedly avoided looking anywhere near the column.

"Okay," Max said. "I'm ready." Her voice came soft and shook with every word. She said she was ready, yet that tremor in her voice also raged through her entire body. Chloe could the nervous stutter of Max's fingers, the trembling in her arms. Her whole body quivered and Chloe knew it wasn't from the cold alone. "We need to think through our requirements," Max continue, but Chloe stopped her with a gentle hand.

"Breathe, Max." She rubbed circles on Max's back. "Take a breath. You're shaking."

Max nodded and did as she was asked, sitting there quietly breathing in and out as Chloe rubbed at her back. A soft silence stretched between them, broken only by the peaceful play of Chloe's hand against Max's shirt and the wispy exhales of Max's gradually slowing breaths. Chloe continued messaging Max's back in those gentle circles, remembering childhood anxieties, soft moments between two friends along the beaches and in the woods of Arcadia Bay. How many times had Chloe followed this routine? How many times had she been there for Max as the panic took hold?

At last Chloe clasped Max's shoulder, noting the tranquil breaths that had replaced the earlier panic. As Max took in one last deep breath, Chloe tightened her grip on Max's shoulder, ready to hear out her friend. Max understood, needing no verbal cue.

"We have to agree on what future we can accept," she said.

And now we're off to the races. Fucking strap in, Price.

"I don't understand," Chloe said. "I thought we wanted to save the Bay."

"Sure, we do. Normally that means you die. Rachel dies. That's not acceptable."

"Okay. We save Rachel and myself and we save the Bay."

Max laughed. "I miss that optimism."

"Fuck, Max. I think you may be the first person in years to call me an optimist."

"True." She chuckled a little at that. A meager, muted chuckle, dampened by the gravity of the situation, and by a pain that Chloe feared she had barely begun to comprehend.

"Chloe, you need to understand that we can't fix everything. Time doesn't work like that. I've tried. Believe me."

"But you said it, Max. We don't just get one shot with time travel."

"Right, but it always corrects itself. Like a rubber band being stretched, then snapping back. Like with your dad. I saved him, but then you were in a car accident instead."

"You're saying if we save me, if we save Rachel, someone else dies?"

"No. Maybe. I don't really know. It's hard to predict the consequences. When I saved you, Arcadia Bay was destroyed. Was that because you died, or was that because Jefferson and Nathan weren't caught? I don't know for sure. It could be a life for a life, one disaster for another. It all seems to be trial and error. What I do know is that the further back we go, the more unpredictable the changes. When I saved your dad, it wasn't just that you got into an accident and he lived, but so many ripples. David never worked at Blackwell but drove a bus. I ended up in the Vortex Club with Victoria Chase eating out of the palm of my hand. Warren ended up dating Stella. Tiny ripples into larger waves until whole trajectories and personalities changed."

"Okay, so we can't go too far back."

"Right. Only far enough to meet our conditions. For an acceptable future that is."

"Like?"

"For me, Chloe Price has to be alive. And you have to want to be. I won't bend on that."

"Okay. Ditto. No Max, no future."

"First conditions. See. Just like that. Next, we have to save Rachel, too, which means we go back to April or before. That photo you took, the one we used, that was close?"

"Yeah, March of 2013."

"So, that's it. We stick with that photo. Seven months can still cause a lot of ripples, but it's unavoidable if we're going to save her." The confidence seeping into Max's words shook Chloe. The girl's usual anxiety had faded over the course of the conversation, slowly peeling back as the panic had subsided, until now Max spoke with an utter conviction that Chloe had rarely witnessed, and never before the past week. Max was taking charge; and Chloe couldn't help but notice how much she enjoyed that.

God damn it, Chloe! Max had always done this to her… well, maybe not exactly this, but she threw her off balance; she got under her skin and suddenly Chloe would turn to mush. This wasn't the time for that, however; something Chloe found she was having to remind herself of with an increasing frequency. She had to focus.

"As long as we're adding conditions," she said, leaving her wandering mind behind, "the Bay survives. And Joyce… mom. I can't lose her."

"Great. Arcadia Bay stays. That's going to be the hard one, but I think we're close. Just… you should know, even if Arcadia Bay stays, that doesn't mean everyone will be okay."

Chloe nodded, taking a moment to grasp Max's words. People were still likely to get hurt. "And you, is there anyone else?"

"Kate and Victoria. They both have to live. I've seen them die too many times."

"Victoria?"

"Yes, Victoria."

"Okay. Like how many votes do we get here? I'd like to be rich?"

"Must haves only, Chloe. We're probably pushing our luck as is."

"Well, I get my best friend back and my mom. This shithole survives, and I even get Rachel. I mean, I'd hate to see anything happen to Justin and Trevor."

"We can try, but I can't guarantee it. As I said, we're pushing our luck." Chloe cringed a little at this. She hadn't expected Max to deny anyone. Really, she didn't think that Max had that in her; it was too cold and that unnerved her more than anything that she had seen thus far. That unease tickling at her gut, Chloe needed to know how far Max would go. Was she really saying they couldn't save anyone else?

"What about Warren," Chloe asked. She saw how that boy felt about Max; it was abundantly, horridly clear, and although Max was either oblivious or really just not into him, she did seem to care about him for some reason. Chloe wondered if she should be bothered by how much that thought disturbed her, but decided not to hike down that path. More pressing matters and all that shit. "He seemed pretty into you," she continued. "You all were close, right?"

"This will get too hard to control too fast. Just like with Justin, we'll try, but I can't make any promises. If I had my way, we'd save them all; but I don't want to get our hopes up. Anyway, Warren doesn't usually die." Shit. That was cold. And calculated. What the fuck, Max?

Suddenly, Choe felt a shift in her view of her childhood friend. It wasn't a gargantuan move so much as it was a crack in a foundation. When Max returned after five years of so much silence, Chloe had been furious. She had been angry and part of her had wanted to hate Max. Yet even then, she hadn't doubted Max. She had still known at her core the type of person that her friend was. This, what she was hearing now, it made her doubt her Max for the first time, doubt the essence of her. How many timelines had Max wandered, and what version of her still remained?

"Usually?" Chloe asked, leaving her inner debate unvoiced.

"I know it's harsh, but think of it this way. We're not choosing who dies. We're choosing who lives. The rest is out of our hands."

Max could frame it any way that she liked. That wasn't what it felt like to Chloe. Either way, she could tell the girl wouldn't budge — not on this — but maybe she could still squeeze in one more bullet point; at least if it didn't involve saving a life.

"Fine,"she said. "But one more thing. We get Jefferson and Nathan locked up before they harm anyone. Can that be a condition?"

"No."

The crack in the foundation widened. This wasn't Max; not her childhood friend, not even the girl with whom Chloe had reconnected over the past five days. This girl's veins ran frigid. She could prevent so much pain, pain that the Max Chloe knew would never have allowed if she could stop it, and yet here she sat refusing to even try.

"It's not a necessary change for our desired outcome," Max continued.

Well fuck that. Another crack tore through that foundation, and the concrete at its base began to fall away, crumbling under the strain of the damage; Chloe feared what it meant for her vision of the girl sitting beside her.

"What? What the fuck do you mean it's not a necessary change? It seems pretty fucking necessary to me."

"That's too many close variables. The storm is tied to all of them. I've saved you. I've saved Rachel. I've let both of you die. I've… I-I've… put them away before. Only one storm variable at a time. Scientific method and all that. Hell, you taught me that. We need the control. This time we're saving you and Rachel, together. That I haven't managed, at least not with them still free come the seventh of October. We do this and it doesn't work, then we experiment with the next variable."

"To hell with the variables, Max! Those fuckers go down."

"Seven months early. How many ripples does that cause? I've seen plenty. Do they even stay locked up until October?"

"What! You mean they walk?"

"Sometimes."

"Shit. Motherfucker!'

"It's just too much for one jump."

"But Kate…"

"She'll live."

"Jesus, Max, do you hear yourself!?"

"Yes."

"No. We stop them in September, before they reach her. Then boom. Tiny ripples only." Max could tell her that they were choosing who has to live, while not actually choosing who dies, but there was no way in hell this girl was telling her they had to let these fuckers loose to victimize the girls of Blackwell. Fuck that.

"We don't know that." Max's voice had taken on a hard, icy quality, one that bordered on anger. "Locking them up is a big change. The bigger the change, the more unpredictable the consequences. Same as the length of time. Small ripples become big over long durations. Big ripples just start that way. We leave them alone, but stop her suicide she still lives. Conditions met."

Nope. Fuckity, no, and zippity doo da damn. This ain't happening. She was going to have to do something that she hated doing (not like you haven't done it all week, anyway). She was going to have to yell at Max, to rage at her, to knock her down until she understood.

"Rachel surviving is a big change and with six months to change history. That's going to be pretty fucking unpredictable, yet we're doing it."

"Her life was one of our conditions. I've seen it stop the tornado. It has to happen."

"Well, fuck me. Jeffer-shit and Pres-dick need to be a condition."

"It's not necessary."

"It seems pretty damn necessary. I mean, fuck! She's one of your best friends. Don't you give a damn about her? I mean your track record there is pretty damn spotty sure, but this goes beyond; this is some dark, fucked up shit."

Chloe could see the pain her words caused. She could see Max shrink back as she threw those missing years in her face. What she hadn't expected however was for Max to still hold her own. She should have caved by now.

"If we save Rachel, Kate, and Victoria," Max said, refusing to buckle, "then we've saved their only known victims in the timeframe we're changing. We can put them away when we return from the jump."

"You're not saving Kate. You're just keeping her alive. She's still a victim. Possibly Victoria, too. Hell, is that why Victoria is a condition, because you didn't want to change this variable?"

"Chloe, just trust me on this!"

"Fuck that. This is bullshit and you know it."

"What I know is that I have to save you and I have to save the Bay. I know that when time evens out, if we keep the storm away, if we keep Arcadia Bay in one piece, then I'll still have you and Joyce, and Kate and Victoria. I'll even get to meet Rachel. Asking anything else, changing too much, it puts all of that at risk."

Nope. Max wasn't budging; not even with Chloe pulling no punches. Well, fine. Chloe liked the blunt force approach, but if that wasn't going to work, she could go the subterfuge route. What Max didn't know wouldn't hurt her.

"Whatever. Fine. Let's hear your plan."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Fuck it. How do we do this?"

Max eyed her, uncertain, but Chloe could be convincing when she needed to be.

"Look," Chloe said, "I might not like it, but I won't know til I hear it. You tell me and maybe, maybe I'll be on board. If not, we can argue it then."

Appeased, Max finally relaxed and started to lay out her thoughts. She paused here and there to let Chloe flesh out her own details, and the two scraped together a plan that Max obviously thought just might work. Yet Chloe also found her mind wandering.

Sure, she was taking note of the necessary steps — the Cliff's Notes version at least — but she also had to think of her own plan as well. Maybe she could try again to get Max on board once she'd come up with the particulars, but even if Max turned her down, what was Max going to do? Her plan relied on Chloe, and what Chloe did once she jumped through that photo, well, Max didn't really have a say there.

No, Chloe was going to save Arcadia Bay, but she was going to save Max doing it. That foundation had cracked and begun to fall apart but Chloe would be damned before she let it collapse altogether. Five days ago, her friend had returned to her after five long years away, and yet now, now that Max seemed even further gone than she had been those years in Seattle. That, that was completely unacceptable. Whatever had happened, Chloe had to believe that her Max was still in there, somewhere deep, beneath this calculated bullshit. That Max, her Max, the one who grieved over injured squirrels, and awed at the sight of a deer, and who had wept with her over the death of her cat Bongo, that Max had to be in there still and Chloe was going to find her. Chloe was going to find her and she was going to bring her back