A/N: So for every big tumblr follower milestone I reach, I write a little one-shot as a way to say thank you to all my followers, old and new, for supporting me. Recently I hit 1,000 followers, which is crazy. I decided to do an extra long one-shot in celebration. I also thought I would post it on here too since it turned out to be way longer than I had planned.

If you want to see any of the other one-shots or mini-fics or prompts that I've done on tumblr then you can find me by searching massivedrickhead :)

I hope you like this. Please review.

I do not own Pitch Perfect or any of its characters

Beca remembers what happened in snatches. Quick flashes of memories. Sometimes she'd rather not remember any of it. Others she wishes she knew it all. She wish she knew what had been going through her head. What she was thinking.

The first memory is only sound. It's the scraping and crunching of metal. The screeching of her car against the metal barrier that lined the deep and cold reservoir still rang in her ears long after the car sank beneath the water.

Her next fragment of memory begins with a sharp pain in her forehead and water flooding in through her open window. She gingerly reached up and felt her head. When she pulled her hand away it was coated with blood. She turned it over and saw bruises along her knuckles.

As she watched the car fill up around her she realised she wasn't panicking. Instead she was more confused. Why was the window open? When had she ever opened the driver's window in the middle of November? The car was filling up quick, but Beca tugged at her seat belt with no real sense of urgency. It had locked in place and she couldn't unbuckle it. She managed to kick her glove compartment open and she reached inside and pulled out her 'for emergencies' knife. The water was past chest height. The junk in her car was floating around her as she cut away the seat belt. Drops of blood fell from her head and into the water as she struggled to cut through the belt. Her hands were so cold she couldn't get them to function.

Eventually, the final fibers of the belt broke against her knife. As she freed herself from strap across her chest, the water past above her head. She pushed herself through the open window of the car and kicked against it, propelling herself up as the car continued to sink.

And then she was swimming. Pain was shooting through her shoulder as she swam upwards. Her legs were kicking and her lungs were burning. She was swimming hard towards the surface. And then... she wasn't.

She doesn't remember making the decision to stop swimming. Only that once she stopped she felt relieved. There was still such a long way to go. And, really, wasn't it easier... to just... stop?

And then she was on the bank of the reservoir, coughing up water, gasping to try and suck air into her lungs. Someone had their hand on her back and others were asking her questions.

"Was there anyone else in the car with you?"

She shook her head.

"What's your name?"

She didn't answer. She was still hunched over, coughing and shivering too much to form a sentence. Someone had put a blanket around her shoulders. A drop of blood hit the puddles she'd made on the bank. She'd never felt so cold.

She looked over and made eye contact with a man who was just as wet as she was. He also had a blanket around his shoulders. He must have been the one who pulled her out. His mouth was moving but no sound was coming out. No sound was coming out of any of their mouths.

Then she was in a bed. She assumed from the repetitive beeping and muffled conversations that she was in a hospital. She didn't open her eyes yet. She still felt cold, but she was more comfortable than she could ever remember being. If she'd opened her eyes she would have seen herself covered in layers of blankets and hot water bottles, which was the result of the doctors trying to stave off hypothermia. It felt like someone was holding her hand, but she couldn't be sure. It could have just been the pressure of the blankets. She wasn't awake long enough to open her eyes and find out.

When she finally did open her eyes, it was several hours later. Having warmed her body temperature back up, the nurses had removed the extra blankets and hot water bottles. And if anyone had been holding her hand before, they weren't there now. She sat in the bed for almost an hour trying to piece together what had happened, but she couldn't. Her memories ended at her apartment and began when she hit the water. She reached up and touched a spot on her forehead that was covered in a small dressing. Pain shot through her arm as she lifted it. She looked down to find deep purple bruising on her shoulder from where her seat belt had dug in.

"That'll be sore for a while." She looked up to see what she assumed was a doctor standing in the doorway. "But you're very lucky, all things considered." He moved into the room and looked down at his clipboard. "Minor head injury, some bruises, low body temp." He looked up and smiled. "Nothing to worry about. Physically that is."

"Great," Beca said. Her voice was hoarse and her throat hurt.

"You might want to consider talking to our counselor," he said, busying himself by looking at her chart. She could tell he felt awkward.

"Why would I need that?" She asked. "I just crashed my car."

He glanced up, unsure if she was joking or not.

"Um... there were some eye witness accounts. They said that you drove straight into the reservoir. They said it looked deliberate," he said, glancing up.

Beca felt suddenly like she'd been plunged back into the water. She felt cold all over. She closed her eyes, trying to remember. "I don't remember doing that," she said, her voice quiet. "I didn't... I wouldn't do that."

"Right... um... well, the offer is there if you want to speak to them," he looked genuinely uncomfortable. "There's another thing," he said. "It looks like your health insurance had expired."

"Yeah," Beca said. "I had health insurance at my job but I got... I don't work there anymore. So, I guess I don't have insurance."

His brow furrowed as he looked at her bill. "Oh," he said, brightening. "It looks like your friend paid for everything."

"My friend?"

"Yeah. She was here earlier, I guess she left already," he said. "Okay, if you fill out this discharge form you can go."

Beca was puzzled, but took the paperwork and didn't question him further. A friend had been here and paid her medical bills? She couldn't imagine who that could be. Only one person came to mind, but Beca didn't think it could be her. They hadn't spoken in months. Almost a year in fact. And she was pretty sure they hated her now. If it was her then it was probably for the best that she'd already left.

She signed the form and handed it back to the doctor.

"Great," he said. "A nurse will be along shortly with your clothes and possessions."

"Thanks," Beca said.

It didn't take long for the nurse to appear with Beca's clothes, boots, and wallet. The clothes had been dried, but not fully. They were still damp and cold as she pulled them on. It was the same with her shoes. She was looking forward to getting home and taking a hot bath. If they hadn't cut off her water that is.

She checked her wallet to make sure all her cards were still there. She had no cash on her, so she didn't have to worry about that being ruined, but there was a group photo of her and the Bellas in there that was now reduced to pulp. She sighed as she took it out of her wallet. She tried to straighten it out to see if it could be saved but it fell apart in her hands. The smudges of colour on the paper was all that was left of her and the Bellas.

"Don't worry, I'll get you another copy."

Beca looked up and felt like she'd just been hit in the stomach. Chloe Beale was standing in the doorway, her arms folded across her chest. She wasn't smiling. Her eye makeup was smudged in a way that suggested she'd recently been crying.

"What are you doing here?" Beca asked, trying not to look at her. She felt like she couldn't breathe.

"You called me," Chloe said. Her voice was quiet and angry.

Beca shook her head. "I didn't."

"You did. And I didn't answer. You haven't spoken to me in months. You don't answer texts or emails. You don't call me back. You delete all your social media so no one can reach you. And then you call me out of the blue and I don't answer because I'm mad at you and I'm freaked out," Chloe said. There were tears in her eyes.

"I don't remember calling you," Beca said, clenching her jaw, trying not to cry. "I don't remember any of it."

"You called me," Chloe said again. "Whether you remember it or not. You left a voice mail which... it didn't make much sense. You just said my name, then there was a long silence, and then you hung up." Beca didn't reply. She was trying to think back to the last thing she remembered before the crash. "Then I hear that some girl had crashed her Prius into the Barden reservoir. I try and call you but as usual I get no answer. And I can't shake this weird feeling, so then I call the hospital..." She started crying fully and couldn't carry on talking.

Beca fought the impulse to get up and hug her. She'd missed her. God, she had really missed her. She knew if she held her again, the moment when she had to let go would be too painful.

"I'm sorry I called you," Beca said. "I'm sorry I worried you. But I'm okay."

"You're okay," Chloe said with a hollow laugh. "Right."

"I am," Beca said, wincing at Chloe's tone. "And I don't know if it was you but if it was, thank you for paying my medical bills. You didn't have to do that but I appreciate it." She still wasn't looking at her.

"It's fine," Chloe said. "But you should get insurance. I thought that fancy music studio had full dental and medical for all of you."

"They did. They still do I guess. I got fired so... yeah. You lose the benefits when that happens."

"What? When?"

"About a month after we... you know," Beca said.

"What happened?" Chloe asked, her voice softening.

"Alcohol happened," Beca said. "They're pretty serious about you coming into work drunk. Several times."

"And... and is alcohol still a problem?"

Beca shrugged. "I can't really afford it. Can't afford anything lately. It's, uh, all been a bit... shit."

"Beca-"

"You can go, you know? I'm fine. You can get back to your life."

"You don't look fine," Chloe said, her voice angry again. "God dammit Beca, you make me so... I'm so mad at you right now. Do you have any idea what it's like to walk into a room and see someone who... who you really care about lying unconscious in a hospital bed? I was so fucking scared, I thought you were going to die." She paused, trying to shake off the thought. "Why didn't you tell me? Why didn't you call me before it got this bad?"

"What am I supposed to do? Call up my ex-girlfriend and tell her that I lost my job and I'm getting kicked out of my apartment and not even my own dad will take me in?" Beca replied, getting angry herself. "I still have some dignity left."

A memory had come back to her. She had been on the phone to her Dad before she left her apartment. She was asking if she could come and stay, just for a little bit. Just until she got back on her feet. There had been a long and awkward silence. She could hear Sheila in the background and their kids laughing and playing. He said it wasn't a good time. There wasn't really room. Her voice had gotten quiet as she said "please. I don't know what else to do." He had apologised, but repeated that it wasn't a good time. She had hung up and threw the phone down. She'd slammed her fist into the wall and screamed. She didn't remember what came next.

"How about just, 'hey Chloe, I know we haven't spoken in a while but I'm not doing so good and I could use some help'?"

Beca laughed. "I'm doing fine. I'll figure it out."

"Beca you tried to kill your self today," Chloe said.

Beca visibly recoiled. "I didn't." She muttered.

"People saw you. Lots of people. They saw you break in the middle of the road. They saw you roll your window down, and they saw you floor it. They saw you drive full speed through the barrier," Chloe said.

"How do you know that?"

"I spoke to the man who saved you. I wanted to thank him," she said, crying hard again. "It turns out his partner had been filming you. You'd been parked in the road for a good few minutes. People were beeping their horns but you wouldn't move. And then... You just took off. I saw it."

Beca ran her hands through her hair, and rested them on the back of her head. "I don't remember anything. I don't even remember picking up my car keys. I'm sorry that I scared you, but you can leave. You don't have to stick around. And I'll find a way to pay you back for the bills."

"I'm not leaving," Chloe said. "And I don't want any money."

"I'm fine."

"You're not fine," Chloe snapped. "Stop telling me you're fine."

"What do you want me to do?" Beca replied.

"I want you to come back with me," Chloe said.

Beca laughed again. "I don't think so. I think that's a really bad idea."

"Beca, you have no job, no money, and you're getting evicted. Let me help you. Please," Chloe said.

"Why do you want to?" Beca asked. "You're the one who left in the first place. You don't like me, why would you want to help me?"

"Is that what you think? You think I don't like you?" Chloe sat on the edge of Beca's bed. It was the closest they'd been to each other in almost a year.

"You broke up with me, didn't you? You left."

"Because I never saw you! You spent all of your time at the studio. You broke so many promises, and I just couldn't do it anymore. But I never, not for a second, stopped loving you," Chloe said.

Beca couldn't keep it together anymore. She bit her lip and turned away as she started crying.

"Everything went to shit, Chlo'," she said, crying hard.

"It's going to be okay," Chloe said, tentatively putting an arm around Beca's shoulders. "I'm going to help you figure this out. I'm not saying we should get back together. At least not right away." She could feel how cold and damp Beca's clothes were under her hand. "But I care about you too much to leave you to sort this on your own. If something happened... If you did something... I'd never be able to forgive myself."

Beca nodded, still looking away.

"So we're going to go back to your place, pick up your stuff, and then go to mine. I have a spare room you can stay in. I don't need any money from you for food or bills or anything. Just take all the time you need to get back on your feet," she said.

Beca wiped her eyes on the back of her hand. "Are you sure about this?"

"I'm sure," Chloe said. "I know it's not going to be easy, but I'm sure. I have two conditions though."

"Okay," Beca said. "Shoot."

"You need to see a counselor, or a therapist, or something," Chloe said. "I can only help so much."

"What's the second condition?" Beca asked, not even bothering to argue. She knew Chloe was right. Even if she couldn't remember making the decision to drive into the water, she knew the feelings had been there for a long time. Before Chloe had even left. She had been drowning for years.

"I want you to tell me when you're struggling," Chloe said. "I know what you're like, you shut down when you're having a hard time. But you can't do that anymore. I need to know, okay?"

"Yeah," Beca said. "Thank you."

"I'm sorry you've had to deal with all of this on your own," Chloe said, hugging her. "I tried to keep in contact, but I should have tried harder."

"It isn't your fault," Beca said, closing her eyes as Chloe held her. "I should have told you years ago when things started getting bad. And I should have called when I needed help. I just... I felt so pathetic. I didn't think you wanted to see me again."

"I should have noticed you weren't okay," Chloe said.

"I hid it well."

Chloe held her for a little while longer before she spoke up. "We should go," she said. "You've been sitting here in wet clothes for like an hour."

Neither of the spoke as Chloe drove them to Beca's apartment, and Chloe didn't comment when they went inside. All of Beca's possessions had been crammed into a few cardboard boxes, and all of her clothes were in a suitcase. She had packed it all up around a week ago when she'd been given her eviction notice. Chloe saw her phone on the counter top. It had a small crack in the screen, but it still worked. She saw her own name in the recently dialed section.

"I guess I did call you," Beca said. She still didn't remember.

It didn't take long to load them up in the car, and Beca didn't look back as they drove off.

When they reached Chloe's house, they unloaded Beca's things into the spare room. It was around the same size as Beca's old bedroom, and everything fit easily. She didn't have a lot of things anymore anyway.

Beca took a long, hot shower as Chloe made them some dinner.

"How are you feeling?" Chloe asked as they ate soup. Beca looked exhausted, and she was wolfing down the soup as if it had been weeks since her last decent meal. Maybe it had been.

"I feel like I'm going to be cold for the rest of my life," Beca said, half laughing. "I think I'll head to bed after this, if that's okay? I'm pretty sure I'm going to crash at any moment."

"That's understandable," Chloe said. "Go through once you're done eating and I'll make you a hot water bottle."

"You don't have to do that," Beca said, finishing her food. "At least let me do the dishes or something."

"You almost died today," Chloe said. "I think you get a free pass on housework for a few days."

Beca laughed. "If you say so," she said.

She went into her room after she'd finished. She changed for bed and crawled under the blanket.

Chloe came in not long after with a hot water bottle and an extra blanket. She covered her over with it and gave her the bottle.

"Thank you," Beca mumbled, already half asleep.

Chloe carefully brushed the hair from her face.

"You're still cold," she said, feeling her forehead. "How can you still be cold?"

Beca shrugged. "Hypothermia's a real bitch."

"Technically, you didn't get hypothermia."

"I almost got it," Beca said.

Chloe laughed. "Do you have everything you need?" She asked, sitting on the side of the bed.

"Almost," Beca said.

"What are you missing?"

"You," Beca said.

"Beca," Chloe said, sadly.

"I know," Beca said. "We can't... And I shouldn't be asking you. I just... I miss you."

Chloe swallowed. She wanted to crawl into bed beside Beca more than anything. She had wanted it every day since they broke up.

"We can't. Not yet," Chloe said. "I miss you too. So much. And I love you. I never stopped loving you. A part of me is saying that there's no point in waiting. You almost died, what the hell am I waiting for?" She had started rambling. It felt like she was trying to convince herself rather than Beca. "But I don't want to complicate things. We need to focus on getting you better."

"I love you," Beca said, taking Chloe's hand. "What else matters?"

"We need to be careful," Chloe said, trying to ignore the feeling of Beca tracing patterns in the palm of her hand. "Today was a very scary, very emotional day. We can't rush into things."

"But this is what you want, right?"

"Of course it is," Chloe said.

"Then why wait?" Beca asked. "We dated for five years Chlo', it's not like this is a new relationship."

"I need you to trust me on this," Chloe said, forcing herself to stand up. Beca was breaking her resolution. "I need to take this slowly."

Beca looked at her. "Okay," she said. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to try and pressure you."

"I know," Chloe said. She kissed Beca on the forehead before she headed for the door. "Goodnight Becs."

"Goodnight," Beca said.

That night, Beca dreamed she was back in that reservoir.

She was back under the water, only this time no one was coming to pull her out.

She was sinking faster and faster, no matter how hard she struggled and swam. Someone had their hand around her ankle and they were pulling her.

The water got darker and soon she couldn't see the light breaking through the surface. She couldn't see the person holding her down, but she didn't need to. She knew who it was.

"Let me go," she said. Her words came out clearly, as if they weren't in water at all.

"But this is what you wanted," Beca replied. She wasn't holding her ankle anymore, but had her arms wrapped tight around her own waist.

"It isn't."

"You drove in here. You stopped swimming. You never asked for help."

"I'm asking for it now," she said, struggling to break free. "Let me go."

"It's too late now, you're already down here."

She woke up with a start.

Chloe was at her doorway. "I had a bad feeling," she said.

Beca was tangled in her sheets, sweating and out of breath.

"Are you okay?"

Beca shook her head. "I'm scared."

"Of what?" Chloe asked, sitting on the edge of her bed.

"Myself. Scared I'll black out again and do something stupid," Beca said, tears in her eyes. "I'm more scared that I want to."

"I'm not... I'm not going to let that happen," Chloe said. "We're going to get you help. I promise."

Beca nodded, wiping her eyes. "I know we said we had to take it slow," she said. "But... Could you stay with me tonight? Just as a friend?"

"Yeah," Chloe said, "of course."

She crawled into bed beside Beca and pulled her into her arms. Beca rested her head on Chloe's chest, and Chloe wrapped her arm around her.

"This is nice," Chloe said after a few minutes. "I've missed this."

"Me too," Beca replied. "I'm sorry that I messed it up. I was a pretty terrible girlfriend."

"You weren't," Chloe said. "You were just... Never there. Even when you were your mind was someplace else. You never talked to me."

"I didn't even realise it happening," Beca said. "One minute, everything was great and then the next we're fighting all the time. And then you left. And I couldn't blame you, so I just started drinking to forget about it. I don't know if I was properly sober once for those first few months. And then the label fired me. And it all got worse. Things have been spiraling for me for a long time. Since before I lost my job. Since before you left. Today it all just... Reached a tipping point."

Chloe held onto Beca tighter. As if she might suddenly drift away. "I won't leave again," she said. Her voice was gentle but determined. "And you won't let it get this far again. You'll tell me when you're slipping, and I promise to be patient and help you when I can."

"I won't hide it anymore," Beca said. "I won't mess this up again, I promise."

Beca adjusted her position and Chloe turned to lie on her side so they faced each other.

Beca reached out and brushed the hair from Chloe's face. Then her fingers lightly touched her cheek, which was damp with tears. She touched the curve of her jaw and the top of her ear. When she leaned in for a kiss, Chloe didn't stop her. She returned it eagerly.

A part of her was saying she should wait. That it was all too soon.

But another, bigger, louder part was telling her that Beca was right.

This was the woman she loved, and they had been apart for too long already.