In their arms, all is right. The world lies outside their room; a world that wants to keep me in chaos.

When Kate stirs, I cling to her tighter. “Please don’t leave,” I whisper.

“I’m not leaving,” she says, “my legs hurts is all.”

“Oh.” I loosen my grip, not entirely, and shift my weight. She moves her leg then brings me back against her side.

I want to stay here forever, though I know I can’t.

“Hey, Max,” Chloe says cautiously. She moved with us. Her touch and hold just as important in keeping me here, connected. “Do you feel like talking about what happened?”

What happened?

“Do you mean what happened right now?”

“Yeah.”

Her fingers caress my forearm. I focus on the sensation. Her fingers, with their light touch, move up and down the arm. Little trails of tingling sensations follow her fingers. “I can try,” I say, “but I’m not sure it will make sense.”

“How about this,” she offers after a moment, “how are you feeling?”

Back and forth her fingers move. Now my eyes are on them, focused on the nails with their smooth lines. She doesn’t wear polish, but her nails gleam in the light. “Confused,” I whisper. “Alone. Scared.”

“Those seem like natural responses to what you experienced,” Kate says from the other side. “Tell us about being scared.”

“I’m afraid of using my power,” I whisper.

Bright eyes appear in my mind, blue, cold. A hint of danger, or a promise of it, I don’t know. A shiver runs through me.

“Are you cold,” Kate asks.

“No.” My voice is dry and hollow.

“Why are you afraid of using your power,” prompts Chloe.

Focus, Max! Focus on her fingers, her touch!

The eyes narrow and seem to follow me.

Up one side of my arm, across and down; Chloe’s fingers move in their soft pattern. I keep my eyes on them, noticing the slight imperfections. The edges of her fingers, and around the nails, are darker than the rest of her hands.

Dirt from her job?

The focus allows me to push Her aside. “Bad things happen when I use my power,” I say. “Yesterday, I used my power to help someone. Then, the VoidHound shows up and… well… all that. That’s… a pattern across all the realities. It’s been that way from the start. I save you, only to cause the storm.”

“Yeah, that must suck if bad things always follow your power,” Chloe says.

“It’s not just that though,” I continue. “With my power now sending me into… random other realities, I’m scared of losing the two of you. Am I in the right reality? When I jump, what happens while I’m gone?”

“Well,” Chloe slowly says. “You said you jumped when we were in the car, right?” I nod. “I couldn’t tell you were gone. I mean, you were quiet, but you asked questions and carried on conversation like you normally do.”

Does that mean… She takes over?

No. That can’t be right. What happened during the first week of my power when I photo jumped?

Photo jump. I haven’t used that part of my power since I tried to save William. That ability seems so strange now.

“There’s something else,” I pause, and my voice trails into silence.

I should tell them about… Her.

But it’s hard.

I screw my eyes shut and try to push the hesitation away. They need to know, need to hear this.

There’s a way to do this, to share this shameful part of myself. It’s a trick I learned from Vic in our married life.

Put yourself at a distance. You aren’t here. You’re simply telling some friends a story, like buying groceries.

“What happened in the junkyard,” I ask. I’ve moved my mind from here, to a distant place and it’s reflected in my voice.

“I didn’t get a good look at first,” Chloe says after a moment. “You started glowing, like Rachel, but different colors. Then you… did something, I couldn’t tell what. Those strange soldiers and their VoidHounds were… blinked out of existence. It was strange to see you running around the junkyard. You moved through the stillness a lot more than I ever have.”

Her story makes me open my eyes and quickly look at her. “I… didn’t fly,” I ask.

“No,” she says and shakes her head. “You walked, ran, or portaled everywhere.”

I look at her, my mind emptied by her answer. After several moments, she moves her hand to my upper arm. “What do you remember?”

Flying. Disintegration. Cold-blooded killing. Glee.

I look at her. Worried eyes under a furrowed brow peer at me. “I… remember other things.”

Am I in the right reality!?

How similar can they be?

The light dims. “Max.” Chloe’s voice sounds so far away.

“Max.” Kate too.

Why are they so far away?

Why can’t I see them?

“Can you tell me how many fingers I’m holding up?” Kate’s voice worms through the cloud of thoughts in my mind. I blink and look at her hand without actually focusing on it.

“How many fingers am I holding up,” Kate asks again.

“Th-three,” I say.

Something flutters in front of my face. “What do you smell,” asks Kate.

I take a deep breath. “Honey and…” A bright gleam of golden light appears in my mind. “Sunshine.”

“What do you feel, with your fingers?”

Whatever I’m touching is slightly rough, yet smooth. “It’s both rough and smooth, firm yet soft.” A giggle greets my answer.

“I-I’m sorry for laughing,” Kate says.

I realize I can see her and Chloe now. We’re no longer on the bed. I’m half laying on Kate and my fingers are on her thigh.

“You panicked,” Chloe says softly. She slips a hand under my arm and applies a little upward pressure. I respond to the tug and she pulls me into a sitting position.

“Are you sure you’re ok to talk right now,” Kate says as she helps me. “We can talk about it another time.”

“I’m not ok,” I say and bury my face in my hands. “I… don’t think I’ll ever be ok but I need to talk about… what’s happening. For five years, I haven’t been able to talk to anyone about what happened! And now that I’m here? And I know what happened? If I don’t open up to someone… to you…”

I raise my head and look at them. Kate kneels before me. Her hands rest on her knees and there’s a soft look to her face. Chloe’s right next to her, one hand on Kate’s back. One of her knees is popped up and her hand rests on it.

“I’m scared of losing both of you… especially if I share what’s going on… up here.” I tap my head, but keep my eyes averted. “There’s…”

I need to tell them!

But it’s hard and my words don’t want to come.

If I don’t tell them… then I’lll be alone… with this.

But they don’t need to have this burden, this weight, this nonsense.

If I tell them… it makes it… Her… real.

“… This person… in my head. She speaks to me and… shows me things. Sometimes she is me. Earlier, in the junkyard, she became me and we flew into the sky but she’s not me she’s not like me at all she likes to kill and she killed all of them all the soldiers all the VoidHounds she didn’t disappear them or portal them to another place she turned them into dust and she enjoyed it-“

The words rush out of me without pause or sense. They flood the room and crowd out all the good things until I’m out of breath and I have to take a huge gulp of air. It’s the only thing that stops the onslaught. I keep my eyes on my knees and try to ignore my fingers that can’t stay still.

“You didn’t fly at the junkyard,” Chloe whispers after what must be many minutes of silence. She starts to say more but I cut her off.

“Don’t you see though,” I protest. “We have different memories of the events. I flew! I saw her… turn those people into dust. I saw the fear in their eyes and it haunts me!”

A touch on my arm stops me. It’s only then that I realize my hands are raised in fists and I’m leaning over them. Kate looks up at me. Her eyes are wide as she focuses on me. “What do you think it means that your memories are different than Chloes,” she asks.

I settle back onto my knees and don’t look at them. “It means,” I say slowly, “that I jumped into a different reality before the events in the junkyard even happened.”

Silence normally welcomes me, comforts me. The one that settles after I speak is the opposite. It’s heavy and smothering. It wants to crush me, to push me out.

“I don’t even know if I’m in the right reality now,” I whisper. “I’m scared that I’m stuck somewhere and the Max you know and deserve is stuck somewhere else and that I’ll never find my… Chloe, my Kate. I feel like I’m stuck, destined to bounce from reality to reality without end. That… that I’ll never find where I belong.”

A touch on my leg brings my attention there. Fingers rest lightly on my knee. Though I don’t want to, my eyes move from the fingers, up the arm, to find Kate looking at me. Something clenches inside me at the way she looks at me. “That certainly sounds scary,” she whispers and her fingers stroke my knee.

“As far as I’m concerned,” Chloe says with a thick voice. “You’re where you belong. Here with Kate and I.”

I try to give Chloe a smile, to acknowledge that she’s trying to help. My heart isn’t into it, though, and it falters. “I’m glad you think that way,” I say. “I… can’t. Though when I woke up in my old house several days ago I did. I thought after five years it had finally ended! Now…”

I look at them, both touching me, both attentive and caring. “Now it’s worse and I don’t know what to do.”

“I got to admit,” Chloe says, “this is new territory for both of us.” She glances at Kate then to me. “I don’t know what to do or say. I’m here for you, in whatever way you need.”

“Me too,” Kate whispers.

“Thanks,” I say. I find their hands and take them in mine. “I don’t know either. I… hope that I’m in the right place, the right reality, because I don’t know if I can take this uncertainty much longer.”

Kate scoots closer until she’s almost touching me. “Do you need to talk more?”

I shake my head. “No. I need to do something different.” I start to ask about making dinner when I stop myself. “You though, Kate. Do you want to talk about what you went through? I’m so sorry Lynn did that to you.”

For a long moment, she looks at me. The look of compassion and care she turned on me slowly crumbles until she turns away. “Can we talk about it later,” she whispers in a rough voice. “I appreciate your asking. I’m not ready to talk about it yet.”

“Sure.” I give her hand a squeeze.

She looks at me with one of her bright smiles.

How does she do that? Go from dreary to bright and cheery?

But she’s not truly that way because clouds hide behind her eyes. Even the edge of her smile is frayed. “Now,” she says throatily, “let’s make dinner! All I had to eat yesterday and today were snack bars.”

“Ok,” I say then, after a moment’s hesitation, “I’m here for you, too.”

Kate climbs to her feet and pulls me up. Chloe rises next to us. “Thank you,” Kate whispers.

Doubt about being in the correct reality eats at me, but I hide it as I follow her from the room. Chloe closes the door behind us, then we’re in the living room. “All right, ladies,” Kate says in a firm tone. “Enough lazing about. We have dinner to prepare!”

Over her shoulder, I see Lynn and Rachel on the couch. Each has her head bent over a phone.

Did I… bring back Rachel’s phone, too?

I stop walking and Chloe bumps into me. Lynn and Rachel stand and slip their phones into their pockets. “Sorry, sis,” Lynn says with a furtive glance at me. “But I still have schoolwork to do.”

Kate says something in response, but I’m still distracted by my restoring Rachel’s phone.

Well, I brought back Rachel, and her clothes. Her phone can’t be more complex than her!

It creeps me out though. I tackle that feeling and follow it to its source.

Rachel, a woman dead for five years, walks around the couch to speak to Kate. Just hours ago, she was bits and pieces. Atoms spread across reality, and a dead body in the ground.

And I… brought her back. Her clothes. Her phone. Her memories.

“You ok,” Chloe whispers to me as Lynn walks past us.

“I’ll be ok in a moment,” I reply.

Rachel keep glancing at me as Kate speaks with her. Her expression is unreadable when she looks at me.

“Dinner then,” Chloe says and gives me a nudge.

I nod and walk into the kitchen. The others follow. “Spaghetti and salad,” I say to remind myself. And to hope I’m in the same reality as earlier.

“Correct,” announces Kate. “And let’s add garlic bread to it.” She looks at the three of us. “Chloe, I know you can cook. Max and Rachel, what about you two?”

We both nod, with Rachel continuing to look at me when Kate looks away. “Rachel,” Kate says, “do you have any dietary restrictions?”

“No, I don’t.”

“Ok, you can brown the meat and prepare the sauce. Don’t worry, it’s from a jar.”

“Chloe, dear, please set the table and do the garlic bread. Max, would you mind making the salad?”

We set to our tasks. Kate kneels and opens cupboards next to the stove. “The meat is in the bottom drawer of the fridge on the left,” she says as she pulls a large pot from the cupboard. “Vegetables for the salad are in the drawer on the right, and the shelf above.”

Rachel retrieves the package of meat and sets it on the counter. She steps aside so I can get my supplies. Meanwhile, Chloe washes her hands. “Don’t forget to wash your hands, Rachel and Max,” Kate says.

I load up my arms with lots of yummy veggies that will make this salad excellent, then close the fridge with my toe. I carefully carry them to a counter and set them there. While I do that, Rachel washes her hands. It gives me a moment to study her. Taller than me, but shorter than Chloe, she has lustrous hair to her mid-back. Her shoulders are loose and her stance is relaxed. When she moves there is a certain grace that makes me wonder if she was a dancer.

She steps away, returning to the stove, and I take her place. I combine washing my hands with washing some of the veggies. “Do you have a colander,” I ask.

“Check the bottom cupboard to your left,” Chloe calls from the table.

After I dry my hands, I look in the cupboard and find it. “And a knife?”

“The drawer above the cupboard,” Kate answers.

The knife I find is sharp and well balanced. I heft it appreciatively and study the edge. It’s a very good knife.

A cutting board leans against the wall. I rinse it off and set the hard veggies, radishes, carrots, and jicama, along one edge. The romaine and arugula I set in the colander for now. I’ll do it last.

I place a carrot on the board, then pause.

Are these skills Joyce taught me in that other reality?

That makes me think of Vic and Joyce and my heart twinges.

Joyce died in the storm in this reality. And Vic…

My hands move automatically, slicing the carrots into thin disks.

“While we cook,” Rachel says, “do you mind if I talk about what’s going on?”

“I don’t mind at all,” Kate replies. “Until a few hours ago, I only knew you from Chloe’s stories. I’d enjoy learning more about you.”

“What about you, Max,” Rachel says. Her question makes me pause. The carrots are all sliced and piled on one corner of the board.

“I… don’t mind,” I say slowly. But do I?

A strange sensation grips me at her question. I try to ignore it and grab the radishes. I think Chloe says something, but I’m focused on slicing the tops off the red and white orbs. A tangy scent fills the air.

A shadow falls across my right side. I look up to find Rachel standing there. “Max, I want you to know I didn’t want to hurt you,” she says. There’s an unreadable look on her face.

Behind her, the meat sizzles in the pan. Kate stands near a large pot of water. She appears focused on the pasta in her hands, but her head is slightly turned in our direction.

When did she fill the pot with water?

“What do you mean?” The knife handle is smooth under my fingers. One finger plays with the guard, sliding along its curve.

“It’ll make more sense in a bit,” she says. “Just… you didn’t deserve what happened and… I’m responsible for some of it.”

Her words cause a shiver to run up my spine and I look away from her. I don’t like what she hints at.

The scrape of metal on metal tells me she’s returned to the stove. The fork or spoon, or whatever Rachel uses, goes round and round as she browns the meat.

“In my last year at Blackwell, I began to notice changes in myself.” Her words float on the air, carried by the scents of cooking food. “At first I dismissed them. I thought they were… well it doesn’t matter. What matters is I began to notice a strong desire to stay in Arcadia Bay. When I’d go out of town with James and Rose I had powerful urges to return. I felt more alive, more in control, more confident in AB than anywhere else. It confused me because there was nothing I wanted more than to escape. Then, strange things began happening.”

She pauses and the room is filled with the sound of sizzling meat. Most of the vegetables are sliced into neat piles, waiting for me to complete the task and throw them into the colander. On the counter to my left, Chloe places what she needs to make the garlic bread.

“Details don’t matter right now,” continues Rachel. “Suffice to say, I figured out I have special abilities, powers. Only, I figured that out too late to do anything. The day before the last party of my life I had a vision. It was like a waking dream. So real I felt like it was happening.”

Chloe has placed several thick pieces of bread on a baking sheet and is now coating them thick with butter. I turn my attention to the last veggies that need sliced.

“What did you see,” Kate aks. It seems to me that the question bounces around the room. A fierce echo that amplifies when near me. I flinch at the effect.

“My death.” The sizzle of the meat and scrape of her cooking instrument nearly drown out Rachel’s response. I pause, knife edge rested against the bell pepper.

“I saw what would happen the next night at the Vortex Club party. The vision showed me what would happen if I stayed away, and what would happen if I went along with… Nathan. It was… fucked up.”

Her words cause a strange void to open in me and I cough into my arm. “I know what it’s like to experience one of those visions,” I say after my cough. “Mine weren’t that specific though. They showed me what would happen, but not why. Nor did they give me choices, or tell me how to change it.”

“That sounds equally fucked,” Rachel says. “I can’t imagine a vision where I saw my death and nothing further. I’m sorry, Max.”

“Thanks.” The knife rests on the cutting board. A tingle surfaces in my right wrist.

“And you still went to the Vortex party,” Kate asks, her voice filled with horror.

After a long pause, Rachel answers, “Yes.” A pop sounds and I look over to see she’s opened the sauce. The meat sizzles loudly, then is muffled as the sauce covers them.

“There’s another jar in the pantry,” Kate says. “Would you mind heating it in a separate pan? Max and I don’t eat meat.”

Rachel nods and turns toward the pantry. I return my gaze to my task and study the orderly piles of sliced vegetables on the cutting board. The counter edge is sharp under my palms as I lean forward.

Are we both pawns in a fucked up game?

There’s a clink of metal on metal followed by a soft hiss and pop. A faint whoosh follows as the spark lights the gas. “If I stayed away, or avoided the path of Nathan,” Rachel says, “It meant Chloe would die. Jefferson would unleash terror on the planet and no one could stop him. Or, I could let myself die. The terror would still come, but someone would be there to oppose him.”

Rachel walks behind to toss the empty jars in the trash. Chloe nudges me. “You ok,” she whispers.

“Yeah,” I slowly say. Even though I’m not making the salad anymore. Even though the tingle in my wrist has begun to burn.

“What was the terror,” Kate asks.

“The things we fought in the junkyard this morning,” Rachel replies.

“Chloe and Lynn told me a little about them. Scary, horrible things.” From the corner of my eye I see Kate shiver when she says that.

Then, Kate is at my side with a large, empty pot. She turns on the water and begins filling the pot.

“Who opposes him?” Kate stirs the bubbling pot and fishes out a strand of spaghetti to test.

Next to me, the water streams endlessly into the pot.

Chloe sets down the baking sheet with a bang which makes me jump.

“If I chose to save myself,” Rachel says. No one else heard the bang. Just like no one else sees the duplicate Kate and Chloe performing their prep duties. The burning hurts.

“If I chose to die,” Rachel says, “A person very… important to Chloe would come to Blackwell Academy. With her help, Chloe would complete the healing I helped start. This person, she’d discover her own ability and, like me, be faced with a hard choice. Hers would tear her apart no matter what she chose to do.”

“Stop.” The din of cooking masks my whisper.

“She’d… survive experiences no one should have to and be broken again and again, but she’d face down Jefferson and his hordes.”

“Please stop.” The room around me is dark. The knife gleams and calls to me. Fingers twitch in its direction. The water flows into a pot it can never fill.

Blue eyes replace the cold, hard knife edge. They look at me, brows and mouth lowered at the corners. “Rachel, please stop talking,” Chloe says. The darkness begins to recede.

“I haven-“

“Just stop!”

Chloe wraps an arm around my shoulders and gently leads me to the living room. She helps me sit on the couch and takes the spot next to me. The sounds of cooking follow us and keep us company for a few minutes.

“What’s going on, Max,” Chloe whispers. She has my right hand in hers. Fingertips caress the inside of the wrist.

I look from her slowly dancing fingers up to her face. When I try to speak, the words won’t come, plus my mouth and throat are dry.

“Do you need a drink,” she asks. I nod.

“Kate,” Chloe calls over her shoulder. “Would you mind bringing Max a drink, please?”

Momentarily, she appears in front of us with a tall glass of water. After I accept it from her, one hand falls to my knee. “I’m worried about you,” she whispers. “I’m sorry I didn’t notice what the story was doing to you.”

I give her a weak smile then down half of the water. The coolness makes my mouth and throat rejoice as it soothes them. Kate kneels and touches my cheek. “My poor Max,” she whispers.

“Thanks,” I croak after the drink. “It’s ok. I think none of us knew her story would do something to me.”

Her fingers brush my cheek again, then her hand falls to her side. “Do you want me here,” she offers.

I hesitate a moment. Kate and Chloe I’m comfortable with, though I fought it at first. But talking here, in the living room, within earshot of Rachel, a person I barely know? That’s a different matter.

“I do,” I say. “Just… I don’t know if I can… talk here.” Kate’s eyes wander over my shoulder to the kitchen.

“I understand,” she says. “I’ll go be with her and… distract her so you and Chloe can talk. Unless you want to go to the bedroom.”

That makes me instantly shake my head. I’m not ready to go to their bedroom in full view of Rachel. I don’t know what bugs me about that.

“Ok.” Kate gives my knee a pat, then stands. She looks once at Chloe, then returns to the kitchen.

Moments later, I hear Kate strike up a neutral conversation with Rachel.

“I… love her.” The words come to me suddenly. A whispered promise, an invokation of goodness.

“More than once I’ve told her she is the better part of us,” Chloe says. Her hand still holds mine and once Kate is gone, her fingertips resume their caress.

I take a chance and lean my head against her shoulder. For a while I sit there, tucked against her side, and let myself enjoy this moment. The faint smell of old cigarette smoke and grease and charred metal clings to her. “The story,” I whisper, “made me feel like I had no choice in what happened. I don’t… fault Rachel for choosing your life over hers. I’d do the same. Whatever is going on, giving people powers, why did she get a choice and a clear path and I didn’t? I’ve been fumbling through this for years, fucking things up. And to hear I didn’t have a choice? That no matter what, I’d be broken and break others? It… sucks.”

She shifts beside me, but only to hold me closer. She moves her hand to wrap her arm around me tight. “Yeah, it does suck,” She agrees. The breath from her words stirs my hair. “I can imagine a little of that. I know Rachel said she chose to save my life. It doesn’t stop me thinking that she chose to disappear without a word, without an attempt to explain. She chose to hurt me. She felt she had to. It doesn’t lessen the pain.”

I look up to see her eyes focused on the window opposite. I love her profile, the way the light from behind casts part of her features into shadow, while highlighting her jaw and lower face. “I’m sorry,” I whisper. “You suffered too and I ignored that. Again.”

She shakes her head and says, “You didn’t ignore me. You’ve got so much on you that I can’t imagine. I hope… want us to support each other. That’s one thing I learned years ago. We need a close friend sometimes.”

“Thanks,” I say and return my head to her shoulder. “It won’t stop me from feeling bad, though.”

The silence between us returns. There is plenty of sound and noise in the kitchen as Kate and Rachel finish dinner. “I want to ask you something,” Chloe whispers, “and I want you to feel safe and comfortable. If you’d rather not answer, that’s ok.”

Hers words hang in the air. Am I supposed to say something? What does she want to ask me?

“What were you doing with that knife?”

A shiver runs through me at her question. “W-what do you mean?”

“I looked over and you were holding the knife against your right wrist. Like it was the next vegetable to cut.”

“I…” The memory crashes into me. Not the recent event in the kitchen, which I don’t remember, but one of the nights in that other place when I cut myself. Victoria had saved me then, and it seems Chloe had saved me now.

With a hard swallow, I try to banish that memory, but it lingers. The tingle or burn doesn’t appear in my wrist, but it appears in my mind, in my face. She wants to know. But I don’t want to tell her, can’t tell her!

A weight presses upon me, intent on trapping those thoughts and burying them.

But you talked about them with Vic, when you were married.

But that was another time, another place, another Max. None of which are here and now.

“Like I said,” she whispers and I’m suddenly aware of her. The scents of her workshop and cigarette smoke swirl around me and pull me into her world. The weight of her arm around my shoulders, the way we fit together, both are a comfort and bulwark against the desires inside of me. “You don’t have to tell me.”

“N-no,” I force myself to say and my voice is crackly and strained. “You… I… one of the Max’s… she would…” The words want to come, but they don’t and I’m left scrabbling at fragments in an attempt to make sense. I close my eyes, take a breath, and focus on Chloe’s fingers on mine. Slowly, I let the breath escape in a soft hiss.

“She blamed herself for your death,” I say when I’m able to continue. “Her power disappeared after you died and her… blame focused itself on her right hand. It was the one she’d hold up when using her rewind. Her need… my need comes back sometimes when I’m overwhelmed or feel like my life is out of control.”

Chloe doesn’t say anything for a time, with words at least. Her head tilts to lean against mine. The warmth she exudes with her presence and silence comforts me as we listen to Kate and Rachel chat in the kitchen. She continues to caress my hand.

“It… can feel right and good in the moment,” she whispers. “I’m a little familiar with the feelings and need to control something. And… doing those kinds of things. Thanks for sharing that with me.”

“Did anyone else see?” The thought others might have seen this part of me pains me.

“No. Both Kate and Rachel were busy cooking. I saw because I stood next you. I’m kinda glad I did.”

So am I.

“Chloe,” I whisper, “the things that happened to me in those other… realities, the other Max’s… they’re all a part of me. It’s like… I’m millions of Maxes. All their memories and experiences and feelings and behaviors are now me. I… The other Max, she’d have that… need when her life seemed out of control, when her decisions appeared to blow up in her face. Like… I felt during Rachel’s story.”

“That,” she slowly says after a moment, “took a lot to tell me. Thank you.”

“It wasn’t the first time since my return that I’ve tried to hurt myself,” I say. A sudden desire to look away, to push myself from her arms, fills me. It’s all I can do to not give in. The most I do is squirm in her arms, turning slightly away.

“I’ve seen you claw at your wrist a few times,” She whispers. “I never connected the dots. I’ll try to watch more for that.”

“No! Please don’t,” I beg. “It’s not your burden.”

“No, it’s not. You are my friend. I care about you. I choose to help you.”

I bite back the words that want to form, that want to burst into the world. Instead, I make myself press closer to her. I slip my arm around her and clasp my hands together. “Thank you,” I make myself say. I am thankful, but I also feel like a burden.

“What say we join the others for dinner,” I whisper after a while.

“Is that what you want?”

I nod. “Yes… I’m done talking for now.”

“Ok.”

We rise from the couch and adjust our clothes before wandering into the kitchen. “Oh good,” Kate says, “dinner is ready!”

“I’ll go tell Lynn,” says Chloe who then disappears.

The dinner atmosphere is both relaxed and tense. Rachel no longer hides the way she studies me. I try to ignore it, but it makes me uncomfortable.

The food is delightful and I make certain to express that to the others. The table is too small for us, so we wander into the living room. Even that is too small, which leaves the floor for Lynn. She doesn’t seem to mind, other than to make a joke about being the youngest and getting the last bits of things. That’s not entirely true because she got her food first.

The conversation is disjointed, with Kate and Chloe doing most of the talking. Chloe fills Rachel in on what she missed while gone.

While stuck in a shallow grave more like it.

The thought sticks in my mind and won’t go away. No matter my efforts, I can’t rid my mind of a five year old memory. Nor of the recent nightmare before my return.

My plate is nearly empty, with only a bit or two of garlic bread left. “What’s the plan,” I say during a lull in conversation.

“What do you mean,” Kate asks.

I carefully set my plate and utensils on a side table. After another wipe of my mouth, I set my napkin on the plate. “Rachel is back.” I turn my eyes on Lynn as I speak. “I’ve done that part. What’s next?”

Lynn shrugs and looks at me. “I don’t know. Why not ask Rachel?”

I look at her a moment blankly. “What do you mean?”

“All the visions I had were about getting you back here and bringing back Rachel. That’s it. When I’ve tried to see beyond that… there’s nothing.”

“Well that’s fucking inconvenient,” Chloe mutters. She hurriedly adds, “that’s not directed at you, Lynn.” But she doesn’t say more.

“We need to stop Jeffershit and his allies,” Rachel says.

“Sure, but how,” Chloe asks.

“We need to get Max to Arcadia Bay. I can block Jeffershit’s power, but only she can stop him.”

“How?” The word seems to echo through the room and I almost regret I asked it since it seems to silence the conversation.

Rachel stirs on her chair and sets her plate aside. Without looking at me, she says, “There’s… something special about Arcadia Bay. It draws certain people.” Her eyes flick to me and away.

My breath quickens as more memories flood in. I know too well what she means.

“He’s… searching for what makes the town special. If he finds it, he’ll unlock his powers and it will be nearly impossible to stop him.”

“What will he do,” Kate asks. There’s a slight tremor to her voice.

“From what I saw in my original vision,” answers Rachel, “he’s able to open pathways between worlds. That’s how those things get here. Right now it’s very difficult for him to open them, which is why the planet isn’t overrun. Today set him back, but I don’t know for how long.”

“Why the fuck does he want to do that!” Chloe explodes.

Rachel shrugs. “I don’t know.”

I squirm at the suggestion I’m important and that I am the one to stop him. The last thing I want to do is give more power to… Her.

“I don’t want to go back,” I say. “Not right now. Please don’t make me. I’m barely here as it is. If I go back…” I can’t voice my fears in the group. Maybe alone with Chloe or Kate, but not with Rachel present.

“The longer we wait,” Rachel begins, but Chloe cuts her off.

“No,” She says kindly, yet firm. “If Max says she can’t go back, then we don’t push her. I will not lose her again!”

A hint of a smile plays around Rachel’s eyes. “Ok,” she says. “We wait. We can’t wait too long though. Once he regains strength, he’ll come for us. And I’m not very helpful this far from Arcadia Bay.”

“You aren’t,” Lynn asks, surprised.

“My power is centered in Arcadia Bay. I weaken as I get further from it.”

“Huh.” Lynn looks impressed by that information. “So you’re like… a guardian?”

With a shrug, Rachel says, “Sure.”

I look at the others quickly before saying, “With that settled, I’d like to go to bed. This day has drained me.”

At my words, Kate rises and begins collecting plates. As one, we all rise and help her. Soon, a collection of plates, pots, and pans are stacked next to the sink. Kate turns on the water and I begin scraping scraps into the trash. The others help clean the kitchen and living room.

“Would it be ok,” I whisper to Kate, “if…” I stop, the words stuck in my throat. She looks at me expectantly, soap suds on her hands. With a hard gulp I force myself to continue. It seems like someone else speaks when I say, “if I slept in your room tonight.”

The light that fills her eyes and face push the hesitation and uncertainty far from me. She leans close and whispers, “yes.”

That simple word clears my mind and fills it with a light and fuzzy sensation. Together we wash the dishes, talking, laughing, as if we don’t have a care in the world.

Beyond that euphoric world is a pair of eyes that glares at me. They slowly sap the euphoria, ruining the edges. She doesn’t completely take it away, but her presence makes herself known.

Our task is done before I know it and then I’m bidding the others a good night. I find my bag of clothes next to the door. How they got there I don’t recall. I bounce down the hall to their room. Kate is in Lynn’s room and I wave as I go past.

A song comes to me and I hum as I prepare for bed. It stays with me as I brush my teeth and Kate enters the bathroom. She leans against the doorframe a moment, watching me brush. Before I can say anything, she disappears. A quick glance into the bedroom reveals she’s getting her pajamas from under her pillow. She sits on the bed, apparently waiting for me to be done.

I clear out my mouth and put my toothbrush away. “Rachel’s taking your place on the couch,” Kate says when I exit.

“Oh?”

“Yeah. Lynn offered her room, but she declined.”

I think about that while I walk to the bed and pull back the covers. “Lynn is very generous to do that,” I say. “She doesn’t even know Rachel. Oh! I need a pillow.”

“Whoops,” Kate says. She rises and opens the closet. “We might have an extra one here.” She pokes around the interior and soon withdraws her hand clutching a nice, fluffy pillow. With a quick motion, she tosses it on the bed. Then, she kneels and retrieves another item. “Here’s a clean pillow case for it.

“Thank you.” I take the pillow case and she goes into the bathroom.

Right before she closes the door, she says, “Pick any side of the bed you want, Max.” Then the door closes and I’m left looking at the bed. It suddenly seems too small and I wonder how we’ll fit. A memory of three of us in a similarly sized motel bed blooms in my mind. With a small smile, I put the case on the pillow and crawl into the middle of the bed.

I’m snugged under the sheet and blanket when she exits. A moment later darkness claims the room as she turns off the light. The bed moves and a warm body lays close to me. I’m on my back, one arm under my head. The scent of sunshine and happiness wafts over me.

An ache settles deep in my heart. Though I’m close to her, touching her, I’m far away and I don’t like it. “Can I aks you something?” My voice is a fragile thing, prone to be broken by the slightest motion of the air.

The bed shifts and her breath caresses my cheek, my neck. “Sure.” Her voice is calm, soothing and I let its melodies adjust my thoughts.

“Would you mind if… I hold you?”

There is a silence that lasts an age untold. Panic seeps into me as I fear I’ve asked for something I don’t deserve, that I crossed a line. The age is but a moment though, as she says, “I wouldn’t mind.” Her words smooth the panic into a heady energy as I turn onto my side.

Her eyes are inches from mine. A light touch trails down my arm, from my shoulder to my fingers. Without thought, my fingers are caressing her cheek, tracing her jaw up to her hair.

This seems right.

With so much chaos and confusion and uncertainty that my life has been these past few days, no! Past few years. This moment with Kate seems right. My fingers tremble as they touch her, but she doesn’t say anything.

The sheet and blanket shift as she wiggles close to me. I expected her to turn on her side with her back to me, not this! A sigh escapes her as she rests against me, and she leans her head forward. Soft warmth brushes my lips once, then twice. Then she scoots down and snuggles against me. A hand rests lightly on my hip, one finger moving back and forth. The touch of her hand, her finger, starts a burning sensation that spreads quickly through me.

“This is how we used to lay. I… I’ve missed it.” Her soft voice is clipped, like saying the words is difficult.

I wonder how she can lay so calmly with my heart pounding so wildly. I lick my lips and my tongue comes away with a hint of mint. Her forehead touches the exposed skin just above the neck of my shirt, which flutters slightly with each of her breaths.

Slowly, my hand moves to her hip. It seems like she melts into me, her body so soft and relaxed against mine. Yet, there is a tremble in her that catches her breath and shakes the hand on my hip.

“What is it,” I breath. Is this too much? Am I too forward? What did I do wrong? The soft shh of her breath is replaced by the pounding of my heart as my mind fills with questions and doubts.

“I…” She tries to speak but the words stop. She’s so close I can feel her mouth opening and closing as she strives to summon words.

I move away, not far, just enough to see her face. In the bit of light that peeks past the curtain, I see a glitter on her cheek. Slowly, I move my hand to touch it. Warm dampness greets my fingertips. Carefully, I wipe the tears away while I struggle to find the right question to ask or words to say.

Fingers take mine and move my hand. Lips press against them, kissing the tears from them. Then she moves my hand to her chest, right above her heart, and holds it there.

I’m frozen with fear and doubt and expectation. What am I supposed to do? What does she want me to do?

We lay there, my hand clutched to her. She trembles more, a constant shake that goes down to her toes.

Maybe she needs the same thing I need when I’m falling apart?

Cautiously, I slip my hand from hers and move it to her back. I pull her toward me, while sliding my other arm under her. Quiet sobs come from her then, muffled by my shirt and body. Within seconds, my shirt is wet. I stroke her back, her hair, and kiss her head. It’s all I can think to do.

And Kate cries. Her fingers grip my shirt and hold me tightly to her. She cries into my chest, her sobs no longer quiet, but great, powerful bursts that sound into me. And through it, I hold her; the comforting presence, despite the hollowness that fills me.

Part of me wants to deny that I can mean this much to her. Echoes of nightmares and torments from other realities sound in my mind. Even in this world I know I took her family from her. I don’t deserve to be the one to comfort her.

But reality doesn’t care about those thoughts. The way she clings to me. The way she held me earlier. A shudder passes through me as my heart swells with affection. Right now, I am her world and she is mine.

I keep my hold on her, warm and comforting, even when the sobs trail into silence. My caresses continue long after her trembling subsides. And she keeps her tight grip on me. We lay quietly; my arms are her sanctuary. “I didn’t know how much I missed this,” she whispers brokenly. “When you said you would join us in our bed tonight, I was so happy and scared. Then, when you took the middle, your favorite place, that made it worse. And then… you asked to hold me… I couldn’t believe it.”

Scared?

“What scared you?”

“It’s been five years. You’re different. I’m different. You’re so… confident and independent with all these powers and experiences. The first night when you declined resuming our relationship, I understood, though it hurt. That was when I knew that I still loved you. Tonight, you asked to get together again and it was so amazing to hear that! But it also scared me. Was I reading all this wrong? Was it going too fast? Would it fall part? That maybe I was trying too hard and would push you away.”

She lifts her head as she speaks. Faint light catches her eyes and sparkles. “I may be our strength during the day,” she whispers, “but you were always my strength during the night. In your arms I found safety and love and warmth and solace and all the things I need to rejuvenate my heart. In our most stressful days, you were there for me.

“When you took me in your arms just now and I felt those things again… things I was scared were gone forever… it helped me realize just how much I missed you, how much you mean to me. And I wondered… if I mean as much to you.”

Her words take my breath away. And the air from the room, because when I try to breathe, nothing is there!

Then she does something completely unexpected!

Warm breath caresses my cheek. A soft warmth brushes my lips. “Is this ok,” she whispers and I can barely hear the words over my heart beat.

“Yes,” I squeak.

Lips press against mine, soft and slow. They linger, spreading their peculiar warmth through me. Fingers tangle in my hair, press against my head. Other fingers grip my hip, holding me close.

As if I would pull away.

As if I’d want to pull away.

When we part, I’m still breathless, panting, and warm in the most delightful way. But she isn’t. She breathes lightly, her warm breath rushing over me. “You’re the first person I’ve ever kissed like that,” she says.

“I thought you and Chloe,” I manage to wheeze, but she interrupts.

“No. That’s not how we are. We love each other. We cuddle and hug, maybe a few light kisses. You and I? We were different. Not quite like you and Chloe. I don’t know how to describe it. Sweeter? Softer? I don’t know. What we just did… I haven’t wanted to do anything like that with anyone. Until… tonight.”

“The kiss was amazing,” I whisper and snuggle even closer to her. Her minty freshness lingers with me; a taste I savor.

She stiffens slightly at my snuggle, then relaxes. “Is it ok, if that’s all we do? At least for now?” Her passion of a moment ago is replaced by uncertainty, fear even. Her arms shake a little.

“Kate,” I say slowly, “it’s perfectly ok. You mean a lot to me.” I hesitate a moment. “Those… episodes I have where I fall apart? Where I’m no longer here? You and Chloe are what bring me back. Your touch, but even more so, my… feelings for you. I lived a life without you and I didn’t like it. I was scared when I came back, scared of a lot of things. I hurt you in ways no one ever should and I’m sorry. So sorry. And so I didn’t want to accept that you were taking me back. I was… am scared of hurting you again. I don’t want to, but with the way my life is… with my power unstable… I may not be able to control it.”

“I can accept that, Max,” she breathes and her lips brush mine again. “We’ll take one day at a time. I’m here for you. And I accept your apology.” Her fingers weave through my hair, a sensuous touch I adore.

“Now,” she whispers against my lips. “Tell me again what I mean to you.” Lips touch my nose, then my mouth. Not in the passion from before, more chaste and discrete. Heat lingers wherever she touches.

“You,” I say and trace my fingers through her hair. “Are my angel. A beacon who guides me through chaos so I can return home. You are why I am here.”

That causes her to make soft, happy sounds and she wiggles against my body. A warmth, pleasant and welcome, spreads from my core at her nearness. Her scent is heady and sends amazing little jolts through me. With her head tucked against my chest, I wrap my arms around her. “You’re my angel,” I whisper again.

“And you’re mine.”

The door opens then, spilling a shaft of light across us. Kate is below the covers though, and only my head is exposed. I lift my head to peer at Chloe who stands in the doorway. With the bright light behind her, I can’t see her well at all.

“Looks like I’m late to the party,” she whispers as she closes the door with a click.

“There’s room for one more,” Kate’s muffled voice calls out.

Chloe snorts and says, “There better be! I’m not sleeping on the floor.” There’s a smile in her voice that comforts me as I lower my head to the pillow. My shirt is still a little damp, but right now I don’t want to leave this special place with Kate. She coos and wiggles against me.

While Chloe prepares herself in the bathroom, my hand moves to Kate’s lower back. There, I begin to trace small patterns. A contented sound comes from her. That encourages me to keep going. “Is it ok if I kiss your head,” I whisper.

“Mhmm,” she murmurs.

I lower my face into her hair and am quickly lost in the scents. My lips lightly kiss her, tracing little lines through her hair.

The sheet and blanket lift behind me, letting in a cool draft. I jerk a little. “Hey,” I say. But a moment later, the covers descend and there is a new heat source behind me. The coolness dissipates.

“How are you ladies doing,” Chloe whispers.

“Mmm,” Kate purrs. “I’ve missed this so much. Max is making me so sleepy.”

A desire creeps through me now that Chloe has joined us. The comfort Kate expressed spurs that desire and transforms it, strengthens it. It pushes at my mind until I speak. But I don’t give in.

“Before I… left,” I whisper. “Did we have good moments together? As a… trio?”

Is that the right word for what we were? Are?

“Yes,” Kate whispers.

At the same time, Chloe says, “I’m tempted to make a joke about a threesome right now.” There’s a smile in her voice mixed with another emotion. Her arm is pressed against my back.

“Bed was our safe zone,” she continues. “We had our arguments and spats and bad days. But in bed? It was the one place we didn’t let those things in. Some nights we spent hours talking while we lay together. No judgement. No fear. Only friendship. And we had good times outside of bed, too.”

While Chloe speaks, Kate wiggles in my arms and moves up so we face each other. “Life was stressful,” Kate whispers. “Grief. Your powers. Lynn. It was hard for all of us, but we made it work. Together. We had plenty of good times together, both as couples and as a trio. When you and Chloe needed privacy, I made sure you had that alone time. We made sure we had time for each other, alone and together.”

Fingers slide along my hip and thigh. When she speaks about Chloe and I needing privacy, her fingertips graze the skin above my waistband. They go no further, returning to my hip. The touch rejuvenates those little sparks of energy which rush to my core and warm me. I again taste and breathe her and my lips remember her warmth. “Sometime,” she breathes, but says nothing further.

After a moment, I whisper, “That’s… like the other place I lived, where Max lost her memories. It’s so strange to me how many similarities there are between that place and here.” After a brief pause, I add, “It sounds like we had a happy relationship. Were each of you getting what you wanted or needed from it?”

“Yes,” Chloe says. Kate adds her own. Their affirmation brings satisfaction and relief.

I squirm a little before I say, “I’d like to have that again, if you’ll let me.” It’s an obvious request and I don’t like making it, but I can’t move forward without it.

“One day at a time,” Kate whispers.

“Hell yeah,” Chloe enthusiastically whispers.

There is a rightness that fills the air at their responses. I want to stay in this moment forever, but it lacks something. It comes to me in that moment.

“Chloe?” I can’t keep the uncertainty from my voice.

“Yeah?”

“Would you mind holding me?”

And she does exactly what I hoped, what I wanted. A warm body presses against my back and legs tuck into mine. Kate returns to her former spot, arms around me. Chloe’s arm goes over both of us. Warm breath washes down my neck causing the little hairs to rise. A shiver runs through me, which is immediately followed by my own sound of contentment.

Am I in the right reality?

Are these ‘my’ Kate and Chloe?

In that moment as my heart swells with good things, I realize those questions don’t matter.

I’m in the right place.