Beca was having a bad day.

Well, it was a bad week in general, but that day was particularly bad. It was only about two o'clock on a Tuesday afternoon- they weren't even halfway through the week yet- and she was desperate to get out of the Bellas house. She glanced back at her laptop, perched on her knees, clenching her fist as she tried to push down the rising guilt. She usually loved the work she did- but not when she couldn't do it.

it didn't happen often, but occasionally there were days where she had to break down and admit that she needed help.

It was like the rational part of her brain stopped working. She knew that she just needed to take a breather and put her laptop down, but that thought was being drowned out by the incessant clamouring of just about everything else in her mid. She got like that a lot more often than she'd like to admit- especially when she younger. It was an all too common occurrence that she let the irrational thoughts take over and send anxiety coursing through her veins. In high school it had gotten so bad that her mother had dragged her to the doctor, searching for an official diagnosis of her daughter's dear of just about everything and the panic attacks that seemed to appear from nowhere. They got one- generalised anxiety disorder.

The Bellas knew about it- there were no secrets in the Bellas house- but none of them had ever had to deal with it, only Jesse had, and she wasn't planning on anyone needing to that day.

Jesse.

That was probably another reason she was so on edge. They usually shared the same shifts at the radio station, but over the past week they had been split up due to Jesse's exam schedule. They had barely seen each other. She hadn't had a chance to talk to Jesse about the setlist she was working on, and she didn't want to risk distracting him when he was so close to his exams. She wanted to, though. Jesse knew how to talk her down. He could tell when she wasn't okay, and he knew how to help and oh God she needed him there. She knew he couldn't be there though, and she had dealt with that before, and she could deal with it.

Everyone in the Bellas house was so loud. How was it that everyone was at home at two o'clock on a Tuesday?

Fat Amy was sitting at the table, putting together the world's largest sandwich and singing at the top of her lungs. Jessica and Ashely were playing some kind of mixing bowl percussion as they loudly discussed the difference between chocolate chip cookies and blondies, and why one was clearly superior to the other. Cynthia Rose and Stacie were having a heated argument about God only knew, and Lily was tapping her pen on the table. It was so loud, and she couldn't take it along longer.

She had barely processed what was going on before she felt herself launch off the lounge- way too quickly to possibly not draw attention to herself. It was a miracle her legs were even holding her up at the way they were shaking. Her hands were clenched, and her breath was coming out in short, sharp bursts, and her heart was ready to burst out of her chest and fuck her life she was having a panic attack in the middle of the lounge room and there were tears streaming down her face and everyone had stopped what they were doing to stare at her and she had to leave. Right away.

So she ran. She ignored the stares and the shouts from Fat Amy and got out of there, heading for the closest place with a locking door. The cupboard under the stairs.

It took her a few seconds to fumble with the lock, tears blurring her eyes and burning in her chest, and as soon as she did she let her legs give way and collapse to the floor.

What had she done?

How had she let it get this bad?

What was she going to do?

And oh God she couldn't breathe.

A quiet knock at the door didn't help in her attempts to control her breathing. Instead it caused her head to shoot up and her breathing to become even heavier. She didn't need anyone trying to talk to her, she didn't want anyone trying to talk to her.

"Beca". It was Emily. "are you okay? Can I come in?"

She didn't respond. Having one of the Bellas in there was the last thing she needed. The less people that saw her in her current state, the better. And even if she had tried to say something, she wasn't sure that the words would have come out. They'd failed her mid panic attack enough times for her not to trust them anymore.

"Beca. Look just let us know if you're alive in there and we'll leave you alone", Ashley offered. "if that's what you want".

Still, she didn't speak. Her head was aching, and everything sounded far away, and she needed to be left alone.

"Knock on the door if you're conscious and want us to fuck off", Cynthia Rose said. "Don't knock if you want Fat Amy to break the door down".

Knocking was something she could do.

Beca wasn't sure how long she'd been sitting in the cupboard for. She could never really work out how much time was passing when she was in the middle of an attack- sometimes it felt like everything was rushing past a million miles an hour and other times time crawled past.

She wasn't crying anymore, and her breathing was calmer and more even, although shaky. She knew she needed to get up and get to the bathroom, but the prospect of leaving the cupboard was daunting.

She looked like a right mess. She could just imagine the tear stains and mascara smudges and red eyes- maybe she'd just stay in the cupboard for the rest of her life.

Another knock at the door interrupted her thoughts and Beca swore to God that if those bitches had come back to check on her she was going to-

"Bec?"

it couldn't be Jesse. he was across campus, asleep. she had to be going completely crazy.

"Bec. Let me in".

it was definitely Jesse.

Beca had the door unlocked in a matter of seconds and it seemed like even less time before Jesse had squeezed himself into the cupboard and wrapped his arms around her.

She knew that it sounded disgustingly sickly sweet, and everything that she didn't want to be, but Jesse always made her feel better. He had a calming presence and she didn't know what she would do without him. with any luck, she wouldn't have to find out.

They sat there together for a while, Jesse rubbing soothing circles on Beca's back until her breathing was fully under control and the waves of panic rolling around her body were gone. it was only then he spoke.

"What happened, Bec?"

She reluctantly shifted from her position, pressed against him and crossed her legs, feeling one of the nine hundred and six pairs of shoes pressing into her back. She knew his eyes picked up the way she was picking at the skin around her fingernails, but she wasn't prepared to stop right then.

"I don't know, it just happened".

Her answer was weak, and she could tell by the way he raised his eyebrows slightly that he knew she wasn't telling the truth.

She took a deep breath. "I just- I just couldn't get my music right. and it was so loud. and I haven't seen you all week".

Jesse reached out and took Beca's hand. "Why didn't you call me?" he said softly.

"It's just- you've been so busy with studying and we've had different shifts and I didn't want to wake you or distract you... how did you know anyway?"

"I was woken by my amazing boyfriend senses telling me that something was wrong, so I rushed straight over here".

Beca raised an eyebrow at him, and he laughed at the small smile that had crept onto Beca's face.

"Cynthia Rose called me but still, I raced right over here, so that counts". He let out a little laugh before his face became serious again. "But Bec, you should have called me. you know I would have come over straight away".

"I just thought- I just thought I could do it on my own. I used to be able to!"

"But you don't need to do it on your own", he reminded her. "I love you Beca, and nothing will ever change that". He leant forward, kissing her forehead, before resting his own against hers.

"I love you too". Beca's voice was barely a whisper, but it didn't matter. Jesse was there, and she was calm, and at least for that moment, everything was okay.