A/N: Probably already been done by now but this is my take on Max's thoughts right after she got stabbed by the needle. I posted it on Tumblr a while ago but deiced i really should put it up on here to. Max/Chloe

A small sting. That's all it took for Max's world to come crashing down around her. Some super hero she was. Turns out a freaking dart was her kryptonite. It had only been a small sting in the back of her neck but the pain she was feeling in her heart was like that of an explosion. Burning with the same passion she had once seen in Chloe's eyes.

She watched as her best friend, the girl she couldn't help but fall in love with, now fell instead over the grave of the girl that she in turn had loved. Max watched in useless horror so unable to do anything, paralyzed not only by the drug but by her own fears. Maybe if she could just get her phone, call 911, then maybe she could save Chloe. The police would come, arrest Nathan and everything would be okay!

But she knew there was no way Chloe could have survived that hit. A bullet to the head, it was instant death. Max supposed that if she survived this ordeal she might later be grateful for that. At least Chloe didn't have to suffer the prolonged and no doubt humiliating death that she had Rachel Amber had been given.

That moment of watching, of falling, it lasted only seconds but from where Max lay, body to heavy to move, it became a lifetime. She regretted turning back time to kill William again. At least if she had left things as they were Chloe would have had a life full of happier memories. And maybe she would have recovered, at least in that reality she had the chance, no matter how small.

But right here, right now she was dead, absolutely dead and like everything else that had been happening lately it was her fault. Now Chloe lay in a pool of her own blood, while Max watched it slowly drip into the grave, wishing wishing wishing she hadn't had to watch Chloe die again. Max selfishly wondered, secretly hoped, she was going to join her in death. After all life didn't feel worth living anymore without Chloe in it.

There would be no excitement; no more entering without breaking, no more midnight swims, no more sneaking around campus, no more hiding in closets, no more blue hair in the breeze, no more colorful art printed on skin, no more childish dares that hide the hope of something new, no more warm flashes of love every time she looked at her. No more Chloe.

She thought about Joyce, who had already lost enough people she loved, about how this would break her, and she thought about how no one would ever really know what happened to Chloe, or her if she died here to. Like Rachel they would simply disappear, lost and eventually forgotten.

They should have just gone to the fucking police. If only she could rewind right now, warn Chloe, stop all this from happening. But her mind had slowly, like her body, frozen up and refused now to work right. This new unfounded power she had so suddenly discovered one day was failing her, right when she needed it most. Figures.

The phrase "If only I could turn back time" entered her mind and her, probably the only damn person on the planet who could fucking do it, was stuck lying in the dirt beside her dead best friend praying her power would miraculously come back to her.

But it didn't and her mind was fogging up to much to think anymore. As she faded she found herself hoping she wouldn't wake. She couldn't stand the thought of existing in a world without Chloe anymore, and she couldn't stand the thought of leaving the world the same way Rachel Amber did.

Her eyes slide closed and Max prayed. Prayed she would wake up in class as if nothing had happened, Mr Jefferson lecturing them on photography. Prayed she woke up next to Chloe in bed. Prayed she would never woke up at all.

Of course Irony was a cruel mistress and instead of any one of those thing magically happening Max instead saw a figure enter her foggy vision. It took a few seconds, her mind as sluggish as her body currently was, but it was hard not to recognize those glasses, that hair, and oh god she saw him every day she knew it was him but by god did she wish it could have been Nathan.

It was all to much, Max couldn't hold onto her consciousness any longer. She felt the light slip away and blackness envelop her sight. She wasn't sure what was worse, having Chloe's broken, bloodied body be the lat thing she saw or Mr Jefferson standing over her, seemingly passive to what was currently happening.

Either way she had no longer to ponder it as everything faded and Max forgot about the last thing she saw. The darkness was all consuming and if she was still capable of thought she would have been grateful.

A/N: Let me know what you thought, Reviews are always loved!