A/N: Hey there Fan Fiction dot net! I know it's been a really really (really really really really) long time since I posted anything, and for the majority of you that got an email regarding this little fic, I'm very sorry that it wasn't an update to 'To be Whole" like I'm sure you were hoping. Unfortunately, that piece of work may be on an indefinite hiatus after all. Sad fact is that the story kind of got away from me, and with korrasami becoming canon and all, the drive to make the two happen in my head was greatly diminished. Instead, I decided to tackle this little beast. This story is actually something that hits very close to home for me personally, and I approached it in a much more methodical and thought out way. So hopefully it doesn't get away from me and fizzle out like my last (and only other) fan fic did. I hope you enjoy!
"Please Brittany… Just… Please. I can't do this anymore."
"Beca I don't…"
"Please... Just… tell me what you want. What do you want Brittany?"
"I want… I want to figure out how to get over you."
Beca wasn't able to do anything about the pain that lanced through her chest at the words, but she managed to just barely school her features into an expressionless mask. Silence stretched uncomfortably between them, it's unyielding hold on the scene unfolding in the cold parking lot untouched by the distant sound of sirens and cars and life going on around them. The moment stretched and warped to a point that was almost painful and Beca's tight control fractured as she realized the other woman was not going to elaborate further. She wasn't going to fan the dying embers of hope quickly extinguishing with every agonizing second. Unable to bear the sight in front of her, the brunette let her eyes slip closed, turning her head sharply to the side as though merely closing her eyes wasn't enough to block the sight in front of her.
She felt, more than heard Brittany take a hesitant step forward. Felt the energy crackle as it always had between them as her arm raised, probably with the intent to comfort. Or hurt. Or hold. Who knew what she really wanted? Who knew what all of this meant to her? She said this was hard for her. She had reiterated over and over just how important Beca had been to her. Had whispered how terrified she was that Beca had the possibility of being the greatest "what if" of her life. That she was beautiful. That she cared. That everything was going to be ok.
But how could any of that possibly be true?
The electricity between them flared and Beca shifted her right foot back, leaning into her heel and away from the hand that -she was able to confirm once she opened her eyes- was raised between them.
Maybe it was a peace offering?
Beca released her pent up breath in a rush, a heavy and black sludge seeping in to fill its place almost immediately. She raised a slightly trembling hand and speared her fingers through the hair at her temple, raking her nails across her scalp before gripping her hair in a tight fist at the back of her crown.
Brittany let her hand drop to the side, grabbing onto her elbow with her other hand. She cast her eyes down and slowly rocked her weight from one foot to the other. Beca could tell by the muscles clenching in the taller woman's jaw that she was about to speak. And Beca just couldn't. Nothing that came out of that girl's mouth was going to feel good. Long gone were the days where Brittany was her only safe place in the hectic whirlwind of her life. Where she could silence an entire day of fighting and lying and the sounds of Beca's younger siblings sobbing, -asking question after question that Beca had no hope of answering- with a simple curve of her lips or the sound of her voice. What had once been the only light in Beca's sad and painful life suddenly became the most excruciating.
What could only be described as panic flooded Beca's chest as Brittany's lips parted. She relaxed the death grip she had on her hair and lowered her hand to the back of her neck, roughly clearing her throat before opening her mouth to speak. Thankfully, the sound made Brittany close her mouth with a snap, her electric teal eyes shooting up to meet their stormy gray mirror. Beca felt the eye contact like a punch to the stomach, and it took every ounce of willpower she possessed to not shut her eyes or look away.
"Okay"
The word came out hoarse, as though the screaming in her head and heart were actually real and had ripped her vocal chords in their ferocity. Brittany rolled her lips together as she gently furrowed her brows, confusion crawling slowly across her face.
Taking a deep breath to prepare herself, Beca twisted her lips into the closest approximation of a smile she could manage. However, all she felt was the uncomfortable stretch and twist of the skin at the corner of her mouth as it shakily hitched higher on her face.
"Yeah" Beca nodded, her face almost twitching in discomfort at being forced into such an unnatural position. If Brittany wanted to get over her, then she was ready. She was finally ready to let go. It wasn't worth it anymore. She had enough on her plate for this pain to really, really not be worth it anymore. Besides. This is what Brittany wanted. And all Beca had ever tried to do is give Brittany what she wanted.
"Have a nice life. OK?" Beca felt the words rattle and catch around her stomach and up through her throat as she pushed them out. The effort it took left her feeling like a brittle shell of the already fragile and fractured person she had been going into this conversation. The words were not said with malice or spite. Though cracked and broken, they rang with a heartfelt clarity that was unmistakable.
Brittany tightly closed her eyes, the only warning Beca was going to get before the look of hurt or confusion or whatever it was she was feeling could fully take hold. Beca didn't wait to find out. Ripping her hand from her neck, Beca tore her eyes away from the emotional display unfolding before her and jerkily turned around, walking with controlled and even steps back to her car. There was a ringing in her ears that buzzed and rattled around her skull. It rose and thrummed, building with every steady step until it was almost painful in its intensity. The raucous cacophony swiftly overshadowed the cars and sirens and sounds of life. It drowned out all the thoughts and feelings rattling around Beca's chest like a frenzied flock of birds. It muted the screaming and crying voice in the back of her mind and stilled the faint thumping of her heart as it struggled to beat.
With the force of a car wreck, the sound of a single stifled sob broke through the roar surrounding her.
Beca's whole body jerked at the sound, her steady retreat momentarily paused. For the span of what felt like several hours, but was really probably just a handful of heartbeats, Beca waited. Waited to see if Brittany was going to call out. To cry and say she was wrong. That she didn't want to let go. That Beca was worth fighting for. That she wouldn't follow through with providing yet another truly spectacular example of how trusting and needing people only resulted in pain and disappointment as if she didn't already know. As if it wasn't an already fully established fact that people in general were cruel and selfish beings. Beca had thought Brittany was an exception. A light in a world full of darkness. Oh, but look how wrong she had been. Because Brittany didn't say a word.
Without warning, the ringing just… Stopped. And then there was nothing. The voice in her head didn't speak back up. Her heart resumed its beating, but the steady thumping seemed almost apathetic as it lazily hitched and bucked around her rib cage. The birds in her chest were still. She was hollow.
Beca resumed her steady gait, however she didn't have to concentrate quite as hard to make sure that her steps were even and smooth. As she continued the walk to her car, Beca noted with mild apathy that the muffled sounds of crying behind her didn't hurt as much as she had thought it would. It didn't hurt at all actually. She felt...nothing.
She clicked the button on her key fob before opening the car door and reaching down to pop the latch for her trunk. Beca walked around and swung the lid up, scanning the mess in front of her and purposefully reaching in to sift through the clothes that somehow always managed to accumulate. Finally her eyes lit on what she was looking for, and her lips twisted into a grotesque parody of a smile.
Beca popped the lid of the carton and thumbed out a cigarette, grabbing it with her teeth before she reached in with her other hand to grab the lighter that was also nestled inside. As she flicked the lighter and inhaled her first drag, she threw the trunk closed, glancing up at the sound of feet scuffing over the pavement. The smoke burned in her throat and lungs, the pain like a long lost friend crawling into her pores. Beca watched as Brittany reached down and opened her car door, looking over at her to… what. Say goodbye? Get one last good look? Beca realized in that moment she honestly didn't care. She didn't really care about anything if she was being honest. The smoke rushing out of her mouth created a pearly thick cloud in front of her, and for a moment she was unable to make out the tall woman across the parking lot.
When the smoke cleared, it was just as Brittany was pulling her car door shut and the small black compact's engine roared to life. The car backed out and drove away and she was officially gone, and Beca strongly suspected that this time, it was for good.
Beca grunted, pulling out her phone to check the time and bit the cigarette between her teeth as she swung open the door to her own car and dropped heavily inside, sliding her key into the ignition in one fluid movement.
6:43
Emily would be getting dropped off from her violin practice right about now, and she really should get home soon to get dinner going or Nathan would end up working his way through an entire box of cereal. Again. And God knows he probably hadn't even started on his homework yet...
However, instead of fully turning the engine over, Beca just clicked her key far enough in the ignition so that she could roll her window down, closing the door and propping her elbow on the armrest, dangling her forearm lazily over the edge of the window so that she didn't get smoke in her eyes.
The emptiness inside her stretched and grew, blanketing her in its comforting and cold embrace. If Beca cared enough, she would have been surprised by the lack of pain and confusion. She would have marveled at how she wasn't a blubbering and crying mess. She had assumed that if another bad thing happened, she would have another panic attack, or at the very least would have felt the familiar rippling ache of anxiety race down her arms and through her chest. Hell...After everything she had been through, she figured another nervous breakdown was probably a very real possibility. But this?… Well... this was almost nice.
For the first time in 6 months, Beca didn't feel like she was about to fall apart. And she didn't know if that was because she had finally grown strong enough to handle anything thrown her way, or she had finally been broken into pieces so small that they couldn't possibly fracture any further. But that didn't matter. Because she really. Honestly. Just… Didn't care.
Beca sat there until she had smoked the whole cigarette. When it was done, she hastily grabbed another, using the dying butt to light it. And when that one was done, she smoked one more, just for shits and giggles. There was no reason not to anymore. It was always Brittany who hated the smell.
When she finally did turn the engine over, the bright green lights of her dash almost blinded her after having become so accustomed to the dark.
7:52
Well shit. Too late for dinner. Beca slipped the phone from where it had been resting between her legs and tossed it into the passenger seat. It landed with its screen facing up, several missed calls and texts blinking and flashing as though desperate for her attention. The light was abrasive in the corner of her eye, so Beca blindly reached over and flipped the phone around. The kids could figure it out on their own tonight. While Nathan was only 11, Emily was almost 16. She was fully capable of figuring out dinner and making sure Nathan brushed his teeth before bed. Beca's blanket of emptiness was almost punctured when her mind drifted to the possibility of her dad showing up. Of him having another one of his "episodes"... But Emily could handle that as well. She would have to. It was her turn. Or just... It was somebody else's turn.
Because tonight Beca was going to go and get a drink. And she had a strong feeling she wasn't going to be back by bedtime.
Beca almost winced at the sound of the petite brunettes back colliding roughly with the bathroom wall. Any sound of protest was immediately drowned out and swallowed as Beca surged forward, capturing the other girl's lips in a bruising and vicious kiss. Rachel -or was it Rhonda? - didn't seem to mind Beca's rough treatment, returning the kiss as best she could in her obviously drunken state. Beca wasn't much better to be honest. She had become very familiar with the hazy tint at the edge of her vision and the way all the sounds in the club seemed to mesh and meld into a solid wall of sound crowding in on her ears. The other girl -Ricky? No- raised her hands to brush them across Beca's chest, but she roughly shoved them away, pressing her body closer as she simultaneously wedged her hand between their flush bodies and fumbled with the button on the other girls jeans. She wasn't doing this so that she could be touched. She was doing this because she wanted to fuck something. She wanted to play with another person's body, and watch as they responded to her touch. It wasn't gentle. It wasn't nice. It wasn't even particularly sexy.
Beca ripped herself out of the kiss and hungrily latched onto the other girl's throat -maybe it wasn't an R name. Julia?- as she quickly pushed the zipper down and forced her hand inside annoyingly tight jeans. Honestly. Skinny jeans were sexy and all, but jesus christ where they inconvenient in these situations.
Just as Beca's fingertips grazed wet and molten heat, the throat beneath her lips vibrated as a high pitched moan, bordering on a scream was loosed above her. Beca rolled her eyes in annoyance and quickly pressed her free hand to the other girls mouth. Of course she would be a screamer. Beca hated screamers. The sounds always seemed so forced. Fake, even if they actually weren't. Either way, she hated it. Beca worked her fingers in the other girls pants, mumbling curses into the crook of a neck at her lack of room to really do anything that could possibly feel good. Julia -fuck it. Why not. She looked like a Julia- didn't seem to care, letting loose wet and open mouthed moans into the hand that was firmly locked around her mouth. Either she was faking it, or Beca was just that good. Beca didn't really care either way. This wasn't about giving pleasure either; not hers. Not...Julia's… or whatever her name was.
A loud banging made Julia jump beneath her, but Beca didn't so much as flinch, awkwardly and almost a little painfully working her wrist to apply a firm and constant pressure as she rubbed tight little circles as best she could in the severely restricted space.
"Hurry the fuck up! This isn't a fucking hotel!", a voice bellowed through the thin door.
Beca growled in frustration. Between the stupidly tight pants and the yelling and the decidedly offensive sounds of 'pleasure' being emitted, this was quickly proving to be a mistake. Turning her head to the side so as to not yell directly into Julia's ear, Beca ripped her hand out her pants and banged back on the door, growling loudly to be heard over the deafening bass in the air.
"Wait your fucking turn, asshat!"
Turning back to the girl in front of her, Beca removed her hand from the other girl's mouth and forcibly yanked on the belt loops at the girl's hips with both hands, pulling the pants down just enough where Beca could more easily reach her hand inside and quickly forced two fingers into the wet heat that was waiting for her, resting her forehead on the smooth curve of a collar bone.
Much better.
Beca made quick work of the girl, who as it turns out, really was that good at faking it, or Beca really was just that good in general, because in seconds, her voice was ringing loud and clear in the small and cramped bathroom, regardless of the hand that had yet again clamped across the opening. Between the dying cat sounds from above her, and the pounding and yelling at the door to her right, Beca really wasn't even all that turned on anymore. She just wanted this to be over and hoped that the increasing volume actually meant the other girl was close because her wrist was starting to cramp again and the feel of saliva and drool collecting in her palm was really starting to gross her out.
Finally, Beca felt the other girl stiffen, and the hands on her shoulders turned to talons as nails bit uncomfortably into her skin. Beca waited impatiently for the sounds to die down from their climax -Beca found herself grinding her teeth so hard in irritation that her jaw actually ached- and for the claws to be retracted before smoothly pushing herself off the wall and turning clumsily to the sink. She was barely able to hear the sound of a zipper over the heady thumping of bass before she turned the faucet on to wash her hands. It was obvious what the two of them had been doing in the bathroom, but Beca didn't want to smell like sex for the rest of the evening. Not to mention her only slightly less wet other hand from the pixies drool. Gross.
Julia -shit. Now that she was able to get a better look, there was no way she was a Julia. Maybe Jordan?- smiled lazily at Beca through the mirror, slowly rolling her head back and forth as she rested it back on the filthy tile. Beca pressed her lips together in smile that didn't even come close to reaching her eyes before looking away, scanning for a paper towel dispenser. It really shouldn't have surprised or irritated her as much as it did when she saw that the dispenser was not only broken, but empty, and Beca was only just able to manage turning her frustrated growl into a disappointed and annoyed sigh, hastily wiping her damp hands on her dark boot-cut jeans. She was about to walk out the door when she paused, glancing behind her at the toilet. Beca lifted her foot up and kicked the toilet handle down with the toe of her boot, the crashing sounds of it flushing finally silencing the banging and disgruntled voice on the other side of the door. Looking back to make sure the other girl was decent, Beca unlocked the door and stepped out.
The music had been loud in the bathroom, but it was nothing compared to the wave of sound that immediately crashed into her as she made her way towards the main floor of the overly packed club. Beca and… the girl received a dirty and heated glare from the shirtless twink in suspenders that was undoubtedly the source of all the banging and yelling.
"Fucking lesbians"
Beca rolled her eyes and flipped him off before effortlessly slipping into the sea of bodies before her. When she was finally able to break her way through the throng of sweaty and gyrating bodies to the bar on the other side, she was able to quickly flag a bartender down and ordered another Jameson double. When she settled against the hard and slightly sticky surface, Beca turned her head and was genuinely surprised to see the girl -OK. It was Jordan. She was sure of it- heavily lean on the bar top next to her, looking up through lashes in a way that was probably meant to be sexy. It wasn't. She also looked like she was expecting Beca to say something. She didn't.
When Beca remained silent -and really, that should have been enough of a hint to go away- the pixieish brunette slid forward and pressed her front against Beca's bare arm, playfully running her fingers over the lines of the intricate half sleeve tattoo that curved around her shoulder and disappeared underneath the striped gray vest that was fastened snugly over a lacy black bra that peaked around neatly pressed lapels. Beca had to stop herself from sneering and pulling her arm away. Yep. Definitely wasn't worth it. At all. Holding in a groan, Beca rolled her head to the side and lifted her hand, gently pushing the girl away from her body. Confusion flashed across dark eyes, so Beca growled to herself before turning to fully face what was only providing further proof of being a mistake. And yeah, maybe she wasn't normally this dismissive and cold, but she really, really, hated screamers.
"Look…"
"Alice"
Oh wow. She wasn't even close.
""OK. Alice. I know this is probably really fucked up, but that was just…"
"A one time thing?" Relief flooded Beca's small frame as she was saved from having to finish her sentence.
"Yeah. It was a one time thing. So…" Beca hitched her eyebrows and jerked her head to the side as she inhaled noisily through her clenched teeth, as obvious and blatant of a dismissal possible without actually saying the words.
Alice squinted her eyes and tilted her head to the side, looking at Beca as if seeing her for the first time. When she had started staring long enough for Beca to have skated though irritation and was swiftly approaching angry, Beca rolled her eyes, opening her mouth to say something sarcastic or mean or… just something to make her go away.
Alice beat her to it.
"You know. You're fucking hot. I'll give you that. But you are really fucked up, aren't you?"
Beca barked out a humorless laugh, caught in an awkward place between genuinely amused and vaguely insulted. The bartender chose that moment to drop an overflowing glass -yes. Glass- of whiskey on the bar top. That was definitely more than a double. A triple? Shit. It was practically a cocktail glass full of amber liquid. No ice. All traces of anger and irritation dissipated as she glanced up and caught the eye of the pink haired bartender as she walked away, smirking with a wink as she flicked the towel off her shoulder and started wiping the bar top down a few feet to her right. Beca smirked and winked back, turning around so she could rest her elbows on the bar behind her and took a healthy gulp of the burning liquid in her hand. Alice shook her head in disgust before walking away and she was just able to hear a vehement "Fucking cunt" grumble out as she was passed. Beca almost laughed.
"Hey Alice!" The dark haired pixie paused in her retreat and glanced over her shoulder.
"Have a nice life. OK?"
"Fuck you"
At that, Beca actually did laugh, shaking her head before upending the entire contents of her glass and downing it in three consecutive gulps. Reaching inside her tightly fastened vest, Beca pulled her phone out of her bra cup to check the time. 11:57. Still early. Plenty of time to dance and sweat the alcohol out enough to drive home. Using her elbows to propel herself away from the bar and into the tangled mass of people in front of her, Beca finally let go, moving and swaying and sweating and grinding in the sea of bodies. She breathed the same stale air as everyone around her. They all moved to the same beat. They all felt the same haze of alcohol burning in their blood. The air itself was thick with sex and the wonton release of everyone just… letting go. In that sweaty and swaying mass of bodies, Beca finally let herself get what she had come for. With some girl's hips grasped between her hands and some guys junk grinding against her ass, she lost herself. And it was perfect.
Beca grunted as a slimy and wet tongue swiped across her cheek and into her eye, slowly pulling her out of a coma like sleep. Jeff, her 2-year-old border collie mix was half standing on her bed, whining pitifully as he tried to rouse his owner from her deep alcohol induced sleep. Beca cracked one of her eyes, immediately groaning as the bright rays of sunshine lanced like daggers through her socket and straight to the back of her skull. There was an annoying vibrating pinching at the base of her spine, and Beca twisted her back, blindly reaching and groping around for the source of the discomfort. Beca wasn't able to pull the phone out in time to see the identity of the caller flashing across the screen, but when her eyes finally focused and adjusted to both the bright light of the room and the pounding in her skull, she was vaguely able to make out that she had several missed calls and even more texts.
She could easily guess the source of at least half of the messages, her friend Cynthia Rose probably freaking out and wondering if Beca was even still alive after disappearing on her at the club the night before. But even for CR, 7 missed calls and 13 texts was pretty excessive. Frowning, Beca pulled the phone closer to her face, her eyes annoyingly blurry after having slept in her contacts for the umpteenth time. Sure enough, the first 4 missed calls were from CR, all ranging from between 2 and 4 in the morning. Beca frowned as she tried to remember how she had gotten home. A painful pinching at her waist was enough of a confirmation that her keys were still wedged tightly in the pocket of her jeans. That meant she had either driven home, or gotten someone to drive her home. Beca scoffed internally at the thought. Ha. Yeah…She definitely drove home. That one time where she had decided to come back for her car in the morning to discover an empty spot and $400 towing fee had left a very lasting impression.
Once upon a time, Beca would have felt the burn of shame and mortification at the thought of endangering her life and who knows how many others by driving in such an inebriated state, but the occurrence had become frequent enough where it barely phased her. If she got caught, she got caught. If she got in a wreck, Beca's only hope was that the crash would be severe enough where she would go quickly and painlessly. She would even settle for just quickly, or… You know… At all. It's not that she was suicidal...she didn't think. It's not like she thought about it or was planning anything. She could never do that to Em and Nate. But if something happened and as a result she maybe didn't exist anymore? The idea was strangely soothing.
Beca shook the musings from her head as she refocused on the phone in front of her face. It's not like it mattered anyways. Obviously she had made it home. Safely. Again. And if she felt a slight hint of disappointment, so what?
Her eyes flicked up the remaining missing calls. The first name caused a familiar spike of annoyance. Her mother. How long had it been since she had spoken to her mother? Two years? Almost three? Whatever. Beca swiped her thumb across the notification, deleting it and the accompanying message just like she did every other time the older woman had tried to contact her over the years. And while Beca had never outright asked her mother to stop trying to contact her, she really figured that it would be obvious after a couple years of complete radio silence that maybe she should just stop trying.
The last two missed calls finally caught Beca's attention and she abruptly sat up, hissing in pain as her brain clashed and collided with the walls of her skull. Beca immediately pressed the call back button and pressed the phone tensely to her ear, pressing the palm of her free hand into her left eye. For some reason, Beca always felt her hangover more on the left side of her brain than the right.
The ringing was cut off as the other line was answered after the second ring. Beca didn't wait for a greeting.
"What's wrong? Are you ok?"
Beca heard the scoff on the other line, but there was no humor in the sound.
"Oh I'm fine. Are you?"
Beca felt the tension ease out of her shoulders as she let herself fall back to the bed. The heavy jostling didn't do wonderful things for her headache, but it felt good to let herself relax back into the plush surface of her mattress. "I'm alive." Jeff jumped back up onto the bed and started licking her face again. Beca groaned in annoyance, gently shoving the excited bundle of fur away from her and rolling onto her side. "What's up? Why are you calling at this ungodly hour?"
This time, Beca was able to hear humor in the laugh that filtered through the phone. She felt her lips quirk in what currently passed as her smile. It still didn't quite reach her eyes, and hadn't for a very very long time. But it had been a solid 8 months now where the expression didn't actively hurt, so that was something.
"Jesus Becs. It's almost noon. Is that why you didn't answer? Are you still in bed?"
"Hey. Don't forget about the time difference. It may be almost noon for you, but that means it's only 10 here so…"
"No. It's almost 2 here. It's noon for you. No students?"
Beca pulled the phone away from her face to squint at her screen. Though why she even tried at this point was a mystery. Her contacts were so fogged up, the screen pretty much just looked like a black and fuzzy square.
"Not until 3:30. So to what do I owe the honor of the phone call? You just calling to check up on me or…"
"Hey. Can't a girl call her favorite older sister from time to time?"
"Em. I'm your only sister. You could at least say I'm your favorite… I dunno… lesbian or... Give me something."
Emily's laugh was full and clear this time, and again, Beca twisted her lips up at the sound. Emily had never quite reached the broken state that Beca had through their whole ordeal, but it was close. When Emily had first explained that she had been accepted to a prestigious music conservatory in Oklahoma of all places, nearly everyone in the family had tried to convince her to stay. Their mother had cried. Their father had barked out some harsh and inappropriate "joke", clearly intended to cause guilt. Beca however, had quietly taken her younger sister aside, hugged her fiercely, stated her unwavering pride at the younger girl's accomplishments and whispered with only a hint of desperation to "Go. I'm so glad you are getting out". Emily may have been less broken, but it still took over a year of her living 4 states away for her voice to resume its happy lilt and for her eyes to lose that haunted and pained look Beca knew was reflected in her own every time they found time to skype.
"Sorry Bec, but that space is reserved for Ellen."
Beca grunted in acquiescence, before frowning. "Wait. Which one?"
"Both?"
Beca scoffed through her nose. "Touché. But for reals. What's up. You only call me before 5 if there's something wrong."
Jeff was starting to really get on her nerves with his incessant nudging and licking, so with a groan, Beca sat back up, swinging her legs over the side of the bed. Her calves and thighs burned pleasantly as a result of the vigorous work out they had been put through the night before as she leveraged herself to her feet, noting with a small amount of wonderment that she had managed to remove her calf length boots before falling into bed the night before. As soon as she was fully standing, her headache flared with a renewed intensity, and Beca hissed, blindly reaching out to grab the edge of her bedside table to steady herself through the wave of dizziness and nausea that raced through her body.
"Jesus Christ Beca. I can hear your hangover from here. Why do you do that to yourself? It can't feel good…"
"Hey. You have movie nights with your boyfriend, and a cat. I have club nights with alcohol, and a dog."
"Yeah. Well… My movie nights with Benji aren't near brushes with death so…" The words were teasing and light, but Beca could hear the underlying worry and anxiety lacing the tone. Beca tried to keep the details of her life from both of her siblings, but Emily knew. Emily knew from the moment Beca had stumbled home that night after the parking lot all those years ago that something had changed in her older sister. The steel rod that had held her up and supported her while she did everything she could to keep the three of them together and whole and safe while everything was falling apart had finally snapped, the evidence plain as day, written across a sharp face with steely gray eyes that had lost its ability to truly smile. Unwilling to delve any further into this particular topic with her 20 year-old sister, Beca grunted in submission, pushing herself away from the bed and groped her way to the bathroom.
"Can we just get to the point of why you called please?"
Beca flicked the switch and immediately regretted her decision, wincing at the bright fluorescent light that filled her white tiled bathroom. When she turned and caught sight of her reflection in the giant mirror over the sink, her wince turned into a grimace. Her heavy black makeup was smeared messily around her eyes, and her hair was matted awkwardly at the back of her head, her sweat from all the dancing having caused it to matt messily into a hopeless tangle. When she turned her head to the side to try and better inspect the damage, her eyes caught on something unexpected. What the hell?
"Mom called"
Beca leaned closer to the mirror and craned her head to the side, squinting through the fog of her probably ruined contacts. "And?" Even through the milky haze she could make out the dark and angry hickeys dotting her skin, ranging from just above her collarbone down to beneath the cut of her lacy bra that peeked out from behind the vest that was salaciously askew around her tiny waist. Where the fuck had those come from?
"Beca… You know it's been almost 4 years. Don't you think maybe it's time to-"
"Seriously Em? That's why you called?"
Beca continued to frown in confusion over her mystery hickeys while she searched for her contact case, her attention now split between the conversation with her sister and trying to wrack her brain for any recollection of who her second hook up may have been. Emily sighed heavily into the phone.
"No. That's not why I called. Though it's kind of annoying that I have to act as a go between every time she want's to relay a message"
Beca wedged the phone between her ear and shoulder as she leaned in, clumsily managing to poke herself in the eye twice before she managed to get her stupid contacts out.
"Then tell her to stop relaying messages. Then everyone's happy."
"Well, this one is about Nate."
"Then why didn't he call me? He has a phone. I know. I bought it for him."
"Mom is worried about him"
"Oh. Well THAT'S rich."
"Beca!"
Beca huffed and screwed her contact case shut with unnecessary force, almost dropping it with her unusually uncoordinated fingers.
"Look. Just because you are buying into this whole 'I know I was a shit mom for 23 years, but I'm better now, I promise' act, doesn't mean I have to as well."
The silence stretched uncomfortably across the phone line. This. This is why she hated talking about her parents with her siblings. She and Emily agreed on most things. They understood each other better than most can even hope to understand another person. And on a certain level, Beca understood and respected why and how Emily was able to forgive and forget so easily. But Beca had no such luxuries. Emily hadn't heard what she had heard. Emily hadn't had to say what she'd had to say. Emily hadn't given and lost as much as Beca had. And Emily knew it. She may not know all the details -and Beca was going to keep it that way- but Emily was very aware that much had transpired from which she was still blissfully ignorant. Thankfully, she never asked. But she did occasionally try and sway her stubborn older sister into trying to allow the gaping hole in their family to start to mend.
A streak of pink suddenly flashed through her mind, and Beca eyes widened. The bartender! Wait… Did she leave with her? How the hell did she end up home then? She didn't… Oh god…
"Fine. I'll bite. What's wrong with Nate"
Beca stalked out of the bathroom to her bedroom door and poked her head out, listening intently for any signs of life in the livingroom or kitchen at the bottom of the stairs. Sure enough, she could hear the soft sounds of a conversation. So either Jesse had brought someone home -not the most improbable possibility out there, but a very very close second- or Beca had. Which was arguably the first most improbable possibility, but small snippets of memory were slowly returning, bright flashes of pink and a not entirely repulsive mouth hot on her neck and chest in the back seat of her car flashing with startling clarity. Well shit.
"He wants to go camping"
What?
"Um… What?"
"He wants to go camping with some friends, but mom is worried that there's not going to be enough adult supervision."
"And what does dad say about all this?"
"Becs… You know that-"
"Exactly! Why is she calling me and not her ex-husband, who happens to be the father of said child?"
"If you're trying to make a point, it's really unnecessary"
"No. I'm serious. Why is she trying to call me about this? Does she want my permission? Did she tell Nate no, and wants me to back her up in this decision? What?"
"She hasn't told Nathan yet, but she said that if you agree to go and be his adult supervision, she'll let him go."
Silence once again stretched between them while Beca tried to process what her younger sister was saying. When it became clear that Emily wasn't joking, Beca burst into laughter, once again pinching the phone between her shoulder and ear while she unbuttoned her jeans and worked them down over her hips, stumbling and tripping her way back into the bathroom.
"You're fucking kidding me, right?"
"Nope"
"You see how utterly ridiculous that is, right?"
"I can see how it's ridiculous now, but mom doesn't know any better. It's not like you guys have really caught up recently. And Becs? You're 25. Unless you want me explain to her your list of new hobbies over the past couple years, that leaves you as a solid option."
"Em. The kid is 16. Does she not remember what I was up to when I was 16? Or did she honestly just not noti-… Nevermind. I answered my own question, didn't I"
Before Emily could reply, Beca grunted in frustration, ripping her vest off and unclasping her bra before leaning into the shower stall to turn the water on and let it heat up.
"This is exactly what I'm talking about by the way. She didn't give a shit about us when we were that age. Why does she all of a sudden care so much now? Let the kid go. God knows I did much more risky and dangerous shit than go on a camping trip when I was his age."
"And you're right. 5 years ago, that's probably exactly what she would have done. But she's different now. She's actually trying, and whether or not you agree with it, her 'trying' includes doing what she can to both appease her 16 year old son and assuage her concerns that he will be safe and taken care of. As much as I know you don't like or respect her, surely you can at least respect the sentiment behind what she's asking."
Beca sat down heavily on her toilet seat, immediately flinching and holding in the yelp that threatened to bubble past her lips at the shocking cold of the porcelain against her bare thighs.
"I don't like or respect her" Beca grumbled, unable to think of any other reply to her sister's typically eloquent and frustratingly logical
statement.
"I know Becs. Trust me, I know. But will you at least think about it? It's in two weeks. I'll even relay the message, regardless of your decision. Try and remember that this is for Nate. Not for her. Don't stoop to their level."
Beca threw her head back and closed her eyes. That had been an unnecessarily low blow, and as a result, Beca had been beaten and cornered and she knew it. More importantly, Emily knew it, but she was too sweet and kind to point it out.
"Fine", Beca barked out. "I'll think about it. You happy?"
Emily's soft chuckle filtered through the phone speaker. "Thank you. And I'm sure Nathan will be super excited. He's sad that you guys don't spend as much time together anymore."
"Yeah. Well, it was his decision to move back in with her… not my fault. And don't act like you know what decision I'm gunna make. I said I'd think about it, not that I've agreed to this whole stupid unnecessary thing."
"You're like an overgrown child sometimes. You know that right?"
"And yet I'm being drafted for adult supervision… weird."
"Shut up"
"You love me"
"Always."
Beca reached her hand into the shower, noting the temperature had reached a sufficiently scalding level to meet her current needs.
"K. Fine. I'm gunna hang up now and take a shower."
"Ok. I really do love you Becs."
"I love you too, Emily. Tell Benji I said hi, and that I'll kill him if he hurts you."
Emily laughed again.
"Oh he knows. He's terrified of you, even though I'm pretty sure he could just sit on you and you'd be done"
"Emily…"
"Seriously though. You're so tiny. How is it that Nathan and I both are like, almost 6 feet, and you're 1 inch shy of a midget?"
"It's 3 inches, thank you very much. 4'10" is the limit."
"Best day of my life when I realized I was gunna be taller than you…"
"I'm hanging up now"
"You love me"
Beca sighed dramatically into the phone, but the corner of her mouth lifted in a fond grin. "Always"
Emily laughed, before mumbling some final goodbyes, then the phone line cut off.
Beca grasped her phone lightly in her fist and leaned forward, absently rubbing circles on her temples with her still slightly shaking fingers. Camping? Really? How much trouble could a 16 year-old kid get into while camping that he needed supervision? And how did her mother honestly think that of all people, Beca was the responsible adult most qualified for this job? Maybe 5 years ago, but... OK, sure. She would very happily take a bullet for him, and God help anyone that tried to fuck with him in anyway becau- Oh. Ok. She was starting to kinda see the point.
The rest of the implications of the trip suddenly occurred to her, and Beca couldn't hold in the frustrated groan. Because as much as she tried to convince herself otherwise, she knew her sister was right. She was going to agree to this stupid thing, if only because she knew it would make her brother happy, and that he'd be safe. At the end of the day, the only thing that really mattered to her anymore was that both of her siblings were happy and safe. But that meant that Beca was going to go camping. With a bunch of high school teenagers. As adult supervision.
What the fuck had her life come to?
