Chloe kept her bright blue eyes glued to the road underneath her. She carelessly kicked and hovered over the small pebbles nearby, focusing on every little detail about every single one of them. She noticed the different sizes, shapes, colors, pretty, much everything there was to notice. It was kinda funny how now- now out of all times- she was able to think clearly. Even if it was about something trivial like what's underneath her feet. Stupid things like that was really all she could focus on. If she focused on anything bigger, anything that actually mattered, she would be torn between breaking down to the ground in a sobbing, shaking mess or throwing the closest object to the clouds, shouting hate-filled words to anything that would listen.

The blue haired beauty has been so emotionally torn within these past few days. She never would've thought that the day Max Caulfield reentered her life would be the day her life changed in the most impossible ways imaginable. Much less that Max Caulfield would safe her life so many times that she couldn't count them anymore. It seems that so many things that no one could ever predict was happening lately. Chloe just couldn't help but feel lost in all the chaos. Finding Rachel was all she wanted out of all this. It was like the one clear thing in a world full of blur. Losing Rachel seemed to shatter any sensibility she had left. The approaching days of the storm had held a lot of trauma.

The storm.

After massive hills of denial, Chloe had almost convinced herself that the swirling vortex was going to forget to stop by, or that maybe Max was wrong. Maybe Max was wrong. What a fucking joke that was. When was Mad-Max ever wrong about anything? She was a time traveler for god sakes. Max had made the ultimately right choice every chance she got. So why couldn't Chloe just pull herself together and prepare for what was to come? She shouldn't have doubted anything Max told her. Max knew everything.

Speaking of the great and powerful photographer, she was currently moving piles of what was once Joyce's little diner. She had somehow persuaded Chloe, who was in a rush to leave the remains of Arcadia Bay behind her, to let her stop and look for survivors. She couldn't just leave right on the spot. Especially if she was the one to start this whole thing to begin with. Not that her searching had done any good. She hadn't even found bodies.

Not even this time.

She was left with sighing and taking a gloomy turn to go back to the girl she had chosen over everyone else she knew. Even with all the death and destruction around her, Max couldn't regret her decision. Even now, when she felt horribly guilty for what happened, looking at Chloe reminded her of why she did it and it was worth it in the most selfish ways. Chloe was so special. So different. There was something about her that made her so irreplaceable. Like an ore of gold in a mine of silver. Max needed Chloe to be here. Even if that meant Warren, Kate, Victoria, and so many others died, apparently.

"There's no one here," Max swayed back to the truck, where Chloe was leaning on the side, "I think we're the only ones left."

Figures. Out of all the people, the geeky weirdo and disrespectful punk were all that was left. Max tried to keep her thoughts on the light side, but hearing that filled Chloe with so much emptiness.

It disgusted Chloe about how much was sacrificed. Just to keep her alive. It disgusted her even more that she felt so relieved that she was alive after they left that lighthouse. That for a minute there, she was just happy to have her life and nothing else mattered. But then she just felt so bitter towards everything after her moment of serenity. Even at her friend. There was so much she wanted to curse Max out for even though half the things weren't her fault. But still, Chloe kept her eyes down. She felt so confused when she looked at Max. Anger, and guilt, and love, and all these other bullshit emotions would take over if she dared take a peek at her savior.

Chloes hand reached up to grab the cigarette between her lips, "I told you there wouldn't be. We should've just left."

Max shrugged, moving her upper body to take one last look at the rubble, "Maybe we should leave now. We've looked everywhere."

"You can say that again," Chloe dropped her cigarette butt down to the road and smashed it with the tip of her toe, once again observing how it mixed with the gravel, "Im ready to get outta here."

A small, cool breeze blew by which made the brunette fold her arms, trying to hold onto warmth. Her own pair of orbs darted up to Chloe. She understood, but it hurt her that Chloe was crawling into a shell and being so monotone about everything. That she couldn't even look at her. It hurt even worse to think that she caused such a reaction. She hated it when she was mad at her. And she had been quite afraid that Chloe wont forgive her for what she did. They were really all the other had now.

"Did you still want to go to L.A.?" Max took a step closer. Her arms fell limp to her sides and the way she walked seemed careless as she spoke, "I know that was your plan before-"

Finally, Chloe looked up. But she sent a stare so cold that it froze Max's sentence. The mention of L.A. brought those old, Late night conversations with Rachel back. Brought the smile that spread across her flawless features and the way her auburn hair would automatically flip to the side back. Shining eyes and legs that could kill. She really could've been the model she wanted to be, despite not being the average height of one.

"No, I don't," Chloe ripped her thoughts away from the woman she once loved. She realized how hostile and stiff the three words came out. She took a deep breathe in, calming down. She'd hate to lash out on Max. Clearing her throat, she softened her tone, "I don't really know where I want to go. I just wanna be anywhere but here."

"Well, I think it'd be sensible to come up with a plan," This time, Max was hesitant. Sometimes talking to Chloe felt like walking a thin tight rope or disarming a bomb. One wrong word and everything would drop and blow up.

"Sensible?" Chloe straightened up a bit an smirked. But it wasn't a regular smirk. It was the kind that had seen the face of irony and decided that it looked funny. The kind that smirked, simply because that's all it could do. One that came with the price of loss, "Now we're going by what's sensible? After a week of fucking up time and killing the city?" She looked like she was about to laugh. Fuck that. She looked like she was about to clutch her stomach and roll on the floor howling hysterically. But she also looked like she was going to... sob.

Max, now feeling very uncomfortable with the sudden change off attitude, crossed her arm over to cling to her shoulder. It was a nervous habit for her, "I-I didn't mean..."

"Of course you didn't, Max."

"N-no, really. You know I wouldn't-"

"Yeah, Max. I get it," Chloe mumbled, interrupting her. She sighed before continuing, "I'm not really in the mood to decide anything. I just want to get in my truck and drive. Not to a specific destination. Just drive."

"That might actually not be a bad idea," Max agreed, allowing her arm to fall to her side.

'You can say that again," Chloe pushed herself off the side of her car and turned to open the door, "I'm hella ready to go."

Without another word, she jumped in and did her seatbelt up. Max was a lot more hesitant, peeking through Chloe's window before walking over to her side and sitting shotgun.

As Chloe drove forward, Max finally let herself relax. It was really the first time since this week began that she was able to. Her back felt good against the soft car seat and the sun shone through the window, hitting her face. Though it wasn't the warmest, because of the storm, Max still found comfort in the sunlight. Her eyes peeked open briefly to look at junk on the road that was once houses. She still didn't understand how such a thing could've happened or how she got her powers, but she swore to herself that she would never rewind time again.

Both girls just kept quiet and listened to nothing but the trucks tires roll across the road, guiding them to whatever their lives led to next. And who knows what that would've been?

Life certainly was strange.