I've had a rough outline for this story for years, actually started writing it for another fandom at one point, but I felt that it didn't really work with the characters, so I kind of put it on the backburner and forgot about it. I'm glad I did, because it works so much better with these characters.

"I don't want to go."

"Baby, you have to. It's what the judge decided."

"I DON'T WANT TO."

"Won't it be nice to see your dad?"

"If we don't want to go, I don't think we should have to. It's not fair that no one asked us."

Beca nodded defiantly in agreement with the lesser heard voice of reason found within their home - Brandon.

"It's good for you to spend time with your father."

"No it's not" Beca scowled. "I don't want to go."

"I'm sure your dad would be very sad to hear that, Rebeca."

"I don't care." She spat. "He's not a good dad."

"He tries."

"NO HE DOESN'T."

They hear a car horn from outside, and the little girl's complaining ceased, her eyes trained on the ground.

"That'll be your dad." Her mother sighed. "He's come all this way to pick you up, you will be good."

"Don't worry mom." She looked up to her older child. "I'll look after her."

A hand on her arm startled her, and she shook off the memory to meet her brother's gaze.

"You spaced out for a second." He smiled softly. "Where did you go?" He frowned at her hesitation, but didn't ask again. "So, how are you liking college?"

"It's different." She admitted. "It's weird being away from home."

"Awesome, though, right?" Brandon grinned. "Freedom at last."

"It's college." She shrugged. "It's just school with dorms."

"Only if you don't let yourself experience it."

"Not interested."

"Bec," He laughed. "You might like it."

"Unlikely."

"You'll have fun." He insisted, letting a brief silence take over before addressing the real reason he had asked her to meet him for lunch. "Dad says you haven't been over to his place at all since you moved here."

"I don't need to." She reasoned. "I see him on campus all the time."

"Bec." Brandon started. Her piercing gaze moved to meet his and he knew not to push her on this. Their dad had been a sensitive topic for her for years now. She never had quite managed to forgive him despite how much they both knew she wanted to. "So," he decided a subject change was probably for the best. "Are you going to give me a tour?"

"You want me to give you a tour of your own college?"

"You've got to know some things about this place that I don't."

"If that's true then you're the one that needs to get out more." She stood up, having finished eating minutes before. "Could you eat any slower?"

Brandon looked down at his almost empty plate before glancing back up at her. "Could you actually taste your food for once?"

"Dumbass."

"Loser."

"Moron." Beca shifted expectantly from foot to foot, glancing warily around as the room started fill with college students. The exact situation she had been trying to avoid when she had asked her brother to meet her earlier than most would consider a reasonable lunch time. She should have remembered that he was a slow eater.

"Chill, Bec." Brandon stood. "They're just people."

She rolled her eyes and began walking towards the exit, and he followed behind her, falling into step with her as they got outside.

"So." He grinned. "How's the boyfriend?"

"I don't have a boyfriend."

"I'm not sure how I feel about you having a fuck buddy."

She turned on him. "What the hell!"

"You don't honestly expect me to believe that Beca Mitchell has a friend?!"

"He's a colleague. I have a colleague." She noted, turning and beginning to walk again. "Why would you think boyfriend would be more likely than friend?"

"You know," Brandon shrugged. "You and guys..."

"What about me and guys?"

"You're never really just friends with them..."

"Being anything with anyone is a huge mistake. They hurt me, or I hurt them, that's how it works."

"It doesn't have to be."

"It does." She retorted. "People hurt you. Always. It's a known fact."

"Have I ever hurt you?"

"You're my brother, Brandon." She sighed. "It's not the same."

-SH-

"I'm sure it can't be that bad, Rebeca."

She glanced up to see her father's eyes on her in the rearview mirror as he waited for the lights to change.

"She didn't want to come." Brandon commented from his seat next to their father. "Begged mom not to make her."

"Why didn't you want to come, Bec?"

"You know why." Brandon shrugged, turning his attention back to his gameboy. "I won't cover it up again dad."

"It won't happen again." Dr. Mitchell assured. "I promise Bec, it won't happen again."

Beca looked down again as her brother once again responded in her place. "You said that last time. And the time before that."

He made a lot of promises, her father, and she'd learnt over the years that they were meaningless. He never followed through, at least not when it came to his children. Brandon had been more accepting of his mistakes than she had been, but then, Brandon had rarely found himself on the wrong side of a fist. Her brother had tried to protect her, but he'd only been a child himself and hadn't really been in any position to do so, so she'd spent weeks at her fathers house each summer terrified of making the wrong move, anxiously biting at her nails as she hid in corners, hoping she wouldn't be found and would escape the day unharmed.

She wiped the tears from her eyes as she stood up, walking over to the mirror placed by the door, checking her reflection for any sign of the tears she had been shedding. Her gaze fell to the scar on her collarbone, where a CD had hit her when it had been thrown her way, it was her fault, she guessed, if she hadn't have tried to duck to miss it, it would have hit her lower arm instead. Her eyes moved up, and she flinched at the scar just on her hairline. It wasn't as prominent now as it once had been, but to her it was still as angry and raw as it once had been. She reached up, brushing her hair over it before reapplying her make up and heading out of the door.

The walk to work wasn't a long one, but as usual she found herself extremely aware of all the ways in which it could go wrong. Her father could see her, and she'd end up having yet another public argument with him. Aubrey could see her, and she'd be reminded that she had somehow been coerced into joining an acapella group by an overexcited redhead that wouldn't seem to take no for an answer. One of the many college guys that seemed to have concluded that she was some kind of dog could whistle at her again, and she swore that one of these days she was going to slap one of them. She could get stopped by one of her professors, enquiring about one of the many essays she swore she was going to get round to writing eventually. And then there were the obvious dangers – weapons, cars, criminals...

Still, she needed the money, and the job wasn't bad. Sure, stacking CDs was dull, but it was a distraction from the reality of her life and it really helped her procrastination habit. Jesse wasn't all that bad either, even if he did once offer to aid her in her rebellion by enabling her to break Luke's 'No sex on the desk' rule. Dork. She knew he hadn't meant anything by it. She couldn't imagine Jesse ever intentionally harming anyone. He was sweet, even if annoyingly persistent, and it was nice to have the company while she worked, even if he did often take her mind off the job with his goofing around.

"Rambo!" He announced as she walked in. "Have you been off fighting cops? Is that why you're late?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

"You don't know Rambo?!" He exclaimed. "You know, the soldier."

"Nope."

"I'm adding that to the list." He decided, taking out his phone. "Of course, if you see one, you have to see them all."

"How many are there?"

"Like, four."

"Four movies?" She questioned. "And they're all about one guy?"

"He's awesome." Jesse enthused. "He's this special forces soldier and he completely loses it."

"Four movies about one person." She considered. "Seems pretty lame."

"It's not lame!" He answered, and she almost smirked at the offence he seemed to have taken. "And Harry Potter had eight." His eyes lit up as he looked back to his phone. "You need to watch those too, we'll marathon them."

She stepped past him, swinging her bag under the desk before picking up the nearest box of CDs and beginning to work.

"Hey," She looked back at him. "Why Rambo?"

"What?"

"Why some soldier dude?"

He grinned. "Judging by the scars, you've been in wars of your own. You are Rambo." He paused. "Or accident prone. Which is a serious possibility that would actually make you the burglars from Home Alone."

"They weren't accident prone, they were set up."

"You know Home Alone?"

"Everyone knows Home Alone." She turned back to her work.

"I thought you didn't like any movies."

"I don't." She shrugged. "My brother and I used to watch Home Alone when we were younger. I wanted to be that kid, not having to worry about what his parents were doing."

She turned to him when he didn't respond, finding him watching her curiously, a million questions on his lips that she knew he wouldn't ask, and for a moment she wondered whether she had said too much, if he could piece together her past just by looking at her. He knew there were issues between her and her father. Jesse had had the misfortune, as Beca would say, of meeting the man some weeks before, and it had been impossible for him to miss the tension between them, but he'd never asked. She'd never offered any form of explanation, and they had continued as if the awkward encounter had never happened.

"I had lunch with my brother." She eventually offered up. "So I started working on a mix later than I usually would and lost track of time."

He nodded and moved to stand beside her, helping her with the box of CDs she was stacking, and his uncharacteristic lack of words paired with the focus he was putting into the task was enough to tell her that he was deep in thought, probably trying to find a way to ask her what he wanted to know without actually asking her. She'd never really been great at picking up on people's cues, she'd withdrawn into herself so much that the idea of connecting with someone, of letting them in, was an alien concept to her. People were a mystery. The only thing that really made sense to her was music.

"How are treble rehearsals going?" She didn't really care, but the silence was unnerving her.

He turned to her in mock horror. "Are you trying to steal our secrets?!"

She rolled her eyes. "Like we even need them. The girls are awesome." She paused. "Mostly."

"Aubrey still a pain in the ass?"

"Aubrey's... Aubrey."

"I have noticed her annoying habit of being herself."

Beca rolled her eyes. "You have the exact same habit. Want me to hook you up?"

"I couldn't do that to you." He grinned, not missing a beat. "The jealousy would kill you, and you mean too much to me for that."

"Weirdo."

"I really hope you're not this charming with everyone. I want to be special."

"Oh,you are." She shot back, and she almost laughed when his instant understanding of her tone led to a dramatic clutching of the chest.

"That hurt, Beca."

"You'll live."

-SH-

"I want to go home."

"I know, but it's only a couple of weeks, it'll be fine." Brandon gently moved the damp cloth over his sister's arm, cleaning her newly acquired wound before putting some cream onto the graze."I'll look after you."

"You can't all the time."

"I'm your big brother." He shrugged. "It's my job."

"I wish mom was here." Beca flinched at the sting of her injury. "Nothing's bad when mom's here."

"I know." Brandon nodded. "But it's like dad said, if we tell her why we don't like coming here, she'd be sad."

"Dinner on Friday, Beca." Dr. Mitchell informed her. "No blowing it off. Your brother will be there too."

"I have plans."

"Then cancel them."

"They're important."

"So are your family." He pushed. "You haven't even met Sheila."

"I don't see why I need to."

"She's my wife..."

"But she's not my mother. Remember her? My mother. The woman you ditched for your new life here."

"That's got nothing to do with Sheila."

"Neither have I." She grabbed her bag, turning to leave the radio station, still angry that her father and decided to corner her there. She threw a final comment at Jesse before slamming the door. "Tell Luke I'm on my break."