Chloe awoke with a start- eyes wide with horror- and gasping like she had just killed someone for the first time. The nightmares had returned, in full force.

Thankfully, her phone was resting on its normal spot on her bedstand.

'Max.' Was all she texted.

'Chloe, what's wrong?" She texted back immediately.

The blue-haired girl was still panting like the hottest dog on earth, but her shaky hands somehow managed to text and send her message.

'I need u now' Chloe threw her phone against the wall. She knew it wouldn't bust, but was that all her horrible body could manage? Need you now?

'I'm coming. I'll have Warren drive me then leave. Can I stay the night?' Her brunette texted back.

Chloe let out another gasp, barely able to text 'yes' without typing other random letters into the message on accident.

After almost being shot in the junkyard, Chloe's nightmares hit home inside her brain, where her fears were still fresh. If Max hadn't shouted out... She'd be gone.

'On my way,' the text message read.

The punk tossed the phone back onto the bedstand, flipping on her tableside lamp as well as she did so. She managed to crawl to the edge of the bed and raise her index fingers to her temples, massaging gently. 

The dreams were horrible, feeling the bullet whiz past her head in real life was terrifying enough- feeling the bullet actually going through her head was a little too much.

And to think, the killer, of what had been her and Kate, and who had killed Rachel, she'd called hot the day of the 'end of the world' dance.

None other then Mark Jefferson, which had been exactly who shot her in this most recent dream.

She snapped her head to the window as she head the sound of a car's engine- she didn't need to see the car- because her truck's engine sounded different, and she could infer.

Her face was practically green, and she was sick to her stomach. Tonight's dream had been way worse then any of her others- she wondered if that meant something.

She heard Max's footsteps as the brunette walked upnth stairs, and lifted her head towards the door just in time for it to open.

"Oh, Chloe..." Max gasped when she saw her in the state she was in. "Chloe."

Her voice was soothing as she whispered Chloe's name over and over again, and hugged her, and patted her back.

Again, Max was saving her ass. She wondered if it would be like this for the rest of her life, or if the nightmares were just temporary, since the accident was just recent.

"Max," Chloe managed to sputter out. "Thank you for coming."

"Of course." Her friend rubbed her back softly, trying to soothe her further. "I know how bad your nightmares are, Che. You told me when you started having them."

The blue-haired girl was silent, burned out of any leftover energy, so Max continued. 

"Do you want... To talk about it?"

"Yes." Was all Chloe said, and she barely said that. However, she was getting much better with the comfort of Max's company.

"What happened?" Max asked gently, for all she knew, Chloe was still heavily scarred from her most recent horror.

"We were..." Chloe hadn't realised the tears streaming down her face, and she sniffled now, "in the junkyard again. You and me, Max..."

"And...?" Max urged.

"Jefferson missed me," she snarled the name. "He missed me, but I fell as If I'd been shot anyway."

"Chloe, where are you going with this?" Max soothed her a little more, patting her back slower now.

"And he got you instead..." Chloe concluded.

"Chloe, he shot me? How is that worse then your other nightmares?" She asked, staring down at her scarred older friend.

"Because I care about you, Max!" Chloe sobbed into her friend's shirt.

"I care about you, too, Chloe, I just wouldn't figure you to say that was the worst, seeing that your life hadn't been ended- mine had." Max said.

"I can..." Chloe sniffled once more. "Understand that."

"Che, Che!" Max whisper-shouted as her friend sobbed worse then before. "Look at me! I'm right here, Che, I'm okay! It's okay, I'm here! Alive, with you!"

The blue haired girl sobbed longer into Max's shirt, and the brunette rocked her back and forth, trying to calm her down.

And then Chloe lifted her eyes to Max's, and stared gently, still sick in the face. Max held the eye contact; though the only reason why was to examine the vibrant blue, normally beautiful but even more so right now, sparkled by the tears that still lingered on her eyes.

"I'm so sorry, Che, I didn't know that-" her breathing hitched, staring into Chloe's eyes was like looking at an angel for the first time. Maybe, technically, she was looking at an angel. Her, blue-haired angel.

"Max, please, its not your fault," she choked, reaching out for something to latch onto in pain, which happened to be Max's hand.

The brunette was confused at first; but eventually grew fine with the barrier gently squeezed around her hand.

"Chloe..." she mumbled. "That's my hand, Che."

"Max..." the blue haired rebel whispered lightly. "I didn't mean I sisterly cared about you; I meant I loved you, Max. I mean, love you love you. Catch my drift?"

And Max's answer clearly stated yes; as she lifted into Chloe's tear-stained face, gently pressing her lips to her best friend's. She smelled of salt water, but that wasn't exactly surprising, seeing that she had just cried tsunamis of water. No doubt her tear-ducts would be swolen tomorrow.

And as Max realised she'd of course have to reverse this and tell Chloe she'd rather stay friends (though she'd enjoy this much more), she silently lifted her right hand up, palm open, an felt the tingling spread across her fingers.

But just as fast as it started; it was gone. There was weight keeping Max's hand firmly against her side.

Chloe had shoved Max's hand back down; and was kissing her brunette friend just as confident as Max had kissed her.

The tears were still falling down Chloe's face, practically soaking both of them, but neither cared.

As they finally broke away, Chloe chuckled a little.

"Next time, make it last longer." She said.