Pure terror and fear swept through Arcadia Bay.

The Storm had finally arrived.

The strongest gusts of wind hurled throughout the town, tearing every unstable thing into its current around its great grey spiralling force of cosmic proportion. Petrified screams were muted by the sheer volume and force of said storm.

The only thing that could possibly end this chaos was Max Caulfield.

Inside the Two Whales Diner where a few survivors of the storm had taken shelter - elsewhere was also temporary until the storm would sweep through what was left of the town. Joyce Price was sheltered inside the diner, tending to those who were injured amidst the storm's rage.

Warren Graham had arrived just minutes ago well after the storm hit. He'd been in Blackwell, reading up on an upcoming exam when he heard the chaos commence. A strong rumble shook the town, alerting its residents of the incoming danger lurking in the bay. Others he was familiar with at Blackwell were absent from heading to safety or were completely unaccounted for due to buildings being torn apart and trees torn out of the ground.

Several minutes after calming down from rushing into the diner, Warren spotted a man enter with blood on the left side of his forehead, masked by his blonde hair. Naturally, Joyce aided him while others rounded themselves in one corner of the diner.

Suddenly, Warren heard his phone ring and was relieved when he recognised the called ID.

"Warren? Can you hear me?!" Max's voice came out static-y and slightly distorted.

"Max?! Boy, am I glad to hear your voice. Where are you?" Warren spoke up, drawing a few eyes onto him.

"Nevermind! Listen, do you have that photograph you took the other night outside the natatorium?"

"Uh, yeah, but why? It wasn't that great a shot..."

"Yes, it is and I need it! Where are you right now?"

"I'm at the Two Whales Diner. Pretty much trapped in here with Joyce, thanks to this Armageddon weather. I'm expecting the ocean to turn red!"

"I'm on my way!"

"Come on, that's crazy! You can barely walk on the sidewalk outside. Seriously, Max, stay wherever you are. I don't think this storm is getting smaller. I'm kinda scared."

"That's okay. Me too. But it's not over yet, Warren. So, hold on!"

Before he was given a chance to respond, Max hung up the phone.

All he could do now was sit and wait for the inevitable...

Max had commandeered the personal vehicle of her former role model, Mark Jefferson, and driven back into town. It had taken her well over half an hour to make her return, where by the time she rode into the centre of Arcadia, she found it in complete wreck.

Cars and trucks were toppled over, some flung upwards into buildings that still maintained stability. Bodies were scattered variously around the street, most trapped under the tons of steel and metal.

The closer Max got to the Two Whales, the more anxious she became to claim that photograph Warren took and go back in time to save Clark. As she came up towards the Two Whales, she found that the road was blocked off by debris and damaged vehicles and even a boat that had broken through the wall of the far left side of the diner.

Joyce immediately drew her attention away from an injured and traumatised Frank Bowers to the young brunette that entered the diner via the back entrance. Her arms wrapped around the girl's neck as she expressed her relief in seeing her alive and well before her.

"I'm okay, Joyce. Are you okay?" Max replied calmly.

"The Two Whales is barely standing now," Joyce answered dishearteningly. "I don't know if it's going to make it through this tornado. Poor Officer Berry and all those people out there... Y-You haven't heard from Clark, yet, have you, sweetie? Oh, please tell me my little boy is alright."

A lump got caught in Max's throat, preventing her from getting her words out at the revelation that both her children were indeed deceased.

She could not bring herself to apply anymore weight of guilt over Joyce's shoulders after learning of the unfortunate passing of her husband. And to hear of her children's unforeseen demises, it could very well figuratively make Joyce's heart burst.

"He-He's fine, Joyce. He's safe. I promise." Max lied.

Relief washed over Joyce, knowing that she could trust Max and believe every word she says.

Max then turned to Warren and asked for the photograph he took while Joyce returned to looking after Frank. Warren had kept the picture in his school bag that contained a now broken laptop and handed it to Max, still inquiring about the importance over one photo. 

In return, however, all he asked was for a simple explanation as to why Max was acting so strange lately. And she willingly explained to him briefly everything that had been going on in the past week. 

"Do you believe me?" Max asked, desperation laced in her voice. "I know this all sounds insane, but you're the only other person who I can count on now. I just wish we had more time together..." 

Warren smiled warmly. "Of course I believe you, Max. You're the most amazing person I've ever met, and I'm glad you trust me." 

"Always. I just wish I could trust my powers. I guess we'll never know if it's magic or science." 

"Even if it's from a wizard or a wormhole. You're part of something bigger. I don't believe in fate or destiny, but after this week, I realise I don't know shit." 

"That makes both of us." 

"I do know you're here for a reason and I guess it's up to you to find out why. I have total faith that you'll do the right thing when the time comes. I'm so proud of you, Max. How could there be a more important moment in history? And I'm in the middle of it with you? So thank you for trusting me." 

Max reached her hand out to grab the photograph and raised her free hand up to Warren's face and gave his cheek a kiss. She then focused on the picture and transported herself into her past self in the moment Warren took the photo of them. Out of the corner of her eye, Max spotted a familiar green-haired boy and threw herself at him, throwing her arms around his neck. 

For both he and Warren, it was most irregular to see Max act so strangely after just acting as if nothing was wrong. 

"Hey, M-Max, you okay?" Clark stammered. 

"I'm just glad we're here together." Max responded breathlessly as she broke the hug and stared into his eyes. 

Warren interrupted briefly to announce that he was going to head off. The disappointment in his voice left Max disheartened as how quickly and easily he was dismissed by her. 

When she looked into Clark's eyes, all she saw was rage. 

"Clark. I need to talk to you." 

"I can walk and talk, okay? Come on, already!" 

"Just STOP!" Max barked. 

Startled by her raising her voice at him, Clark did as she asked and stopped in his tracks before turning around to listen to what she had to say this time. 

"Going inside that party, it's going to get you killed - and there's nothing I can do to stop it. Trust me. I've tried. Please. Please, don't go inside." Max implored the green-haired boy. 

Clark folded his arms, conflict written across his face as he pondered about what possibly could've gone wrong that she was so worked up about. 

"Nathan Prescott didn't kill your sister. Mark Jefferson did." 

"Huh...?" His jaw anchored open, baffled at this shocking twist. 

"Jefferson was the one who killed Chloe. He also killed Nathan and used his phone to get us to go to the junkyard where your sister is buried. I know this is hard to believe, but I need you to not go into that party. Clark... Jefferson, he... he drugged and kidnapped me. I-I was tied up in his bunker. You have no idea what hell I've gone through to bring you back. I just couldn't let you die." 

Clark found it very difficult to process what Max was telling him. His hands went up to touch the top of his head as he began to dawdle around in a circle on the spot. 

"All I wanted to do was make things right, but all I've ever done is just make matters worse. I'm the one who causes the storm: because of everything I've done to rewrite reality. Clark... I was able to go back in time to the last day William was alive." 

"Y-You saw my father...?" 

"I stopped him from leaving, but... but you ended up in a car crash instead. You and Chloe. God. She was completely paralysed. And you were in a fucking coma! A-A-And Chloe, she... she asked me to end her life. Now all of this is happening because I messed everything up; I never wanted you or anyone else to get hurt." 

Clark sighed and dropped his arms, his hands clapping his thighs as he did his best to process all of the information Max was telling him, while at the same time he believed everything she was telling him. 

"I believe you, Max. So... what do we do?" 

"I'm only inside a memory, so I'm not going to remember any of this. You're going to have to tell this Max that you're going to get David Madsen and tell him all about Jefferson and his Dark Room." 

"David? Why him?" 

"Because he was onto something. He was just looking at the wrong person." 

"Okay. Fine. I'll call him later." 

"And then, we'll meet at the lighthouse - I have a feeling there's something we need to do there." 

Clark nodded his head to show Max that he understood exactly what she was asking of him. They both embraced in a hug shortly before Max's departure from the memory. 

And so, by convincing Clark Price to not head to his impending doom, he and Max managed to alter events so that not only would Mark Jefferson be arrested, but also that Clark would be spared from being shot in cold blood. 

However, none of this relieved the intensity of the storm, rather fortifying its destructive nature. 

Clark had been wandering around with a version of Max whom he wasn't entirely sure was his but deep down he had a feeling the real Max would return to him at any moment. He just had to wait. 

At the lighthouse, Clark stared at the storm start to slowly consume the shoreline of the beach. Dread filled him thinking about those whom he knew, one of whom was his mother. 

He thought about his fondest memories of the town that were now being demolished before his very eyes. 

That was, until his Max had returned. 

When travelling forward through time, Max had been given an interval to reflect on her actions the entire week since she got her powers. 

She thought about every significant event she'd altered for her personal gain. 

And it disgusted her. 

Clark immediately noticed that Max had returned when he heard her say his name out of sweet relief, followed by her hugging him from behind. He chuckled and returned the affection as they both established eye contact amidst the storm and heavy rain pouring down on them. 

"Glad to have you back, Super Max." Clark uttered on an exhale. 

"So... what now? How do we end the storm? Do we... have to sacrifice a goat or something?" Max asked anxiously as she watched more of the town turn into rubble and debris. "God... look at all of this! This is all my fault! This is my storm. I caused this. I caused all of this. I changed fate and destiny so much that I actually did alter the course of everything. And all I really created was death and destruction!" 

"Maxine Vanessa Caulfield! Don't you ever think you're worthless! You're my best fucking friend! And I love you so goddamn much that it... that it just hurts me to see you like this! You're a hero! Without your powers, we wouldn't have found out what happened to Chloe. Without your powers and your smarts, we wouldn't have found out what happened to Kate. Sure, you might not have asked for this, but you have saved my life, and I am grateful for it." 

Out of his back pocket, Clark drew out the photograph of the blue butterfly. 

Its original placement was in Max's satchel, but as a result of the previous Max Caulfield having a blackout, the photo managed to fall out of her bag which Clark took possession of and looked after in the meantime to connect dots and how exactly his Max could resolve everything. 

"Max... this is the only way," he said, handing her the photograph. 

Tears formed in his eyes, quickly mixing with the raindrops that splattered over his face. Max took the photo and commented on how easily she'd forgotten about it. 

"You... you can use that photo to change everything, Max: go back and save Kate, save Chloe, save Arcadia." Clark spoke weepily, the struggle in his voice made it more difficult for him to get his words out. "All it would take is for me to... to-" 

"FUCK THAT! NO WAY! You are my number one priority right now!" 

"Max, please! You've done everything you could to help me. And I will forever adore you for that. But for once, please, just do this for me. I don't want to live knowing that you chose me over Arcadia. I'm not worth it, Max." 

"Yes, you are! You're my best fucking friend!" Max protested firmly. 

"But what about my mother?! She doesn't deserve to die from a storm inside a goddamn diner! As much as I hate to admit it... even David deserves her alive." 

"Don't say that! I won't trade you!" 

"You're not trading me! Think of it like you're just delaying my true destiny. Look at what's happening to Arcadia ever since you saved my life in that bathroom! Let me have this... please..." 

"Clark, no... Y-You can't make me do this..." 

"When you see Rachel, tell her I love her and... and that I'm sorry. Don't let her emotions conflict her relationship with Nathan. He's probably a huge jackass and all, but he's always had issues - it's never been his fault - and Rachel was always good to him. Wherever I end up after this, in whichever reality, all those moments we shared together has always been real. I'm so blessed to have spent my last couple of weeks with you, Max Caulfield. I know you'll make the right decision." 

Clark closed the distance between them and raised his hands up to touch Max's wet cheeks. Her cheeks became beet red from the physical contact as her pupils dilated, the distance between their faces closed, their lips connected in a bittersweet embrace. 

"Goodbye, Max." He uttered when his lips parted from hers. 

The emotional tidal wave came crushing down on Max, completely battering her walls which caused her tears to flood down her cheeks. 

As Clark walked away from Max, she in turn, began to focus on the photograph that allowed her to access that distant memory taken so long ago.