A/N: Okay, so, I cheated a little because I basically lifted this from one of my own fics from the All My Children fandom. However, I have good reason. I believe Beca would be, without a doubt, a horrible sick person. She'd become pathetic and needy, two things Beca would never be. I have changed around several things, though, and this is now truly a Pitch Perfect fan fic.

Disclaimer: I own nothing, except a roll of shiny new pennies, a bag of Pop Rocks circa 1976 and a skate key, but I've promised these to a friend in exchange for beta'ing this fic. So, basically, I own nothing…

Action figures sold separately.

Musician, Heal Thyself-

The apartment was silent as Chloe entered, closing and locking the front door behind her. Aubrey must have gone out to dinner with Stacie and Cynthia Rose, so that meant she and Beca might have some quiet time to themselves for a little bit. She dropped her backpack and keys and went in search of her girlfriend.

The living room was dark and quiet, no TV sounds, no clicking of the computer keyboard, no re-mixed music pouring forth from stereo speakers. The sliding glass doors to the balcony were still locked…

"Beca?" she called out. Classes were finished at 2:30 on Friday's. Chloe knew Beca would be at home by now, if not to do some mixing then waiting for her to grab some dinner. "Hey, Becs!"

"In here," came the feeble response. "In the bedroom."

Chloe entered the bedroom to find Beca in bed, covers pulled up to her chin. She was pale and drawn and the sweat on her forehead had dampened her hair, plastering the bangs to her skin.

"Oh, Bec," Chloe said softly. "What's wrong, Tiger?"

"Sick," Beca mumbled miserably. "Cold… achy… yucky…"

"Oh, sweetie…" Chloe sat down next to Beca on the bed and brushed the damp bangs back. "What happened?"

"I started feeling bad at school…" *sneeze * sniffle* "Jesse…" *cough, cough, cough* "Ah, gawd, I feel terrible…"

The headache began right over the left eye, an ice pick being jabbed repeatedly into her sinus cavity. Almost instantaneously, her nose began dripping and no amount of blowing it helped. Suddenly, her throat was scratchy, as if she'd gargled with steel wool and washed it down with Drain-O.

"Aw, God…" she moaned, feeling like she'd been body-slammed by Fat Amy. Not once but repeatedly. She sneezed violently. "Jeez…"

The professor dismissed class and Beca gathered up her books, moaning under her breath as she felt the ache roll into her joints. Shuffling out of to lecture hall, she began to shiver.

"Hey, Becs!" Jesse shouted, causing her throbbing head to thunder twice before settling back into a steady rhythm. She slowly turned to her ex-boyfriend-turned-good friend. "Whoa, little dude, you look like shit."

"Gee, thanks, Jess." She stopped sniffling long enough to give him a look. "Did you just call me 'little dude'?"

"Sorry," he replied sheepishly. "Seriously, though, Beca, you look terrible."

"I feel terrible. I'm going home." She coughed. "Can I borrow your notes when you're done?"

"No sweat. Go home and let Chloe baby you."

"Sounds good. Thanks, Jesse."

By the time Beca made it home, she felt like death warmed over. Never in her life had she been this sick. She stumbled into the bathroom and checked her temperature, which spiked to 102.2. She would shake then sweat profusely then her teeth chattered with the chills until she hid under the blankets in bed to warm up. She had a driving ache in her lower back, tingling in her fingertips and her toenails hurt. Curling up in bed, she moaned to herself until she heard Chloe come home

"Ah, God…" she groaned. "I'm dying…"

"Oh, sweetie," Chloe murmured softly. "You stay here, I'll get you some soup. Have you taken anything?"

"Uhhhh," Beca groaned as she burrowed further under the covers. "Tylenol."

"When?"

"Uh, about 1 o'clock."

Chloe checked the bedside clock. "Well, it's 6:30 now, I think it's okay to take a couple more. I'll get you some juice, too. Okay? I'll be right back."

"Thank you, Chlo," Beca mumbled miserably as the redhead headed for the kitchen. "I love you…"

Later that evening, Chloe ate by herself, leaving a slumbering Beca in their room, the Tylenol and chicken soup having finally taken effect. After dinner, she settled onto the couch to watch TV.

She was quietly watching The Sing-Off with a recently returned Aubrey when, muttering to herself and wrapped in the down comforter, Beca stumbled into the living room, reaching for Chloe's copy of Dorland's Medical Dictionary. The redhead exchanged a look with Aubrey, her eyebrows knitting curiously while the blonde just shook her head.

"What the hell is wrong with me," Beca mumbled, flipping through pages and pages of medical definitions. Slamming the dictionary shut, she booted up her laptop and opened the web browser. "Man, I've got such a horrible cold… could be pneumonia…"

Chloe looked up from Aubrey after the blonde had delicately snorted. "Try again, Dr. Mitchell."

"Maybe it's malaria…" She typed her symptoms into the Google search engine.

Chloe rolled her eyes. "When was the last time you were bitten by a mosquito, especially in the middle of winter?"

"There it is, I've got Scarlet Fever."

"What?!"

"Well, I've got all the symptoms. High fever, headache, chills." Beca unconsciously scratched her arm then looked down. "Is this a rash? I think I have a rash."

"Oh, God…" Chloe went to the desk and read over Beca's shoulder. "You don't have scarlet fever."

"I might."

"Beca, you told me you had your tonsils out when you were 10. One of the main symptoms is swollen tonsils!" She looked at Beca's arm. "And that's not a rash. You've been watching too much Little House on the Prairie on TVLand."

Beca typed in a few more symptoms. "Oh, my God! It's Rheumatic fever!"

Chloe read the computer screen. "Oh, I'm looking forward to the writhing spasms…"

"Maybe it's Hemorrhagic Fever."

"Ebola!?" Chloe exclaimed with a laugh. "Oh, yes, because of all your work with monkeys in the Congo…"

"Asian bird flu."

"Flu, maybe. Bird flu? I highly doubt it."

"Why not?"

"Much like your work with monkeys, you haven't been around very many live chickens recently."

"Rocky Mountain spotted fever?" Chloe gave her a look. "What? I've got all the symptoms!"

"Yeah, Typhoid Beca... when was your last tick infestation?" Chloe grinned to herself. "Maybe we should isolate you in the attic."

Beca pointed at the screen. "Initial signs and symptoms of the disease include sudden onset of fever, headache, and muscle pain."

"That's also the initial signs and symptoms of the common cold and flu!" Chloe shook her head. "And they said doctors are worst patients ever."

"I am not!"

"Beca! You've diagnosed yourself with over a half dozen illnesses! I'm waiting to hear you say Bubonic Plague!" Beca started to type the words into the search engine. "Stop it! You do not have the Bubonic Plague!" Beca just looked up pitifully at Chloe and gave her one weak, sad cough. "Oh, Lord…" Chloe rolled her eyes and quickly turned off the smaller girl's laptop. She took her girlfriend by the arm, leading her out of the living room and into their bedroom. "Come on, get in bed."

"Chloe, I'm really not feeling well enough-."

Chloe shoved the brunette onto the bed then covered her up to her ears with the blanket and comforter. "Don't even start with me, Beca. Get your mind out of the gutter." Chloe reached for the light switch and turned off the light, kissed Beca on her damp, warm forehead, then headed for the door.

"Could be prostate cancer," she heard as she left the room.

xoxoxoxoxoxo

Beca's illness progressed at a normal rate as she developed a major cold with fever and chills. Chloe finally managed to get her to Campus Health Services by Monday and got her a check-up, but not without a lot of cajoling, begging and then just plain bullying. The doctor there prescribed rest, fluids, a cough suppressant and Tylenol.

Almost instantly, Beca reverted to childhood.

"Chloe!" she called. "Chloe! Chloe! Chloeeeeeeeeee!"

"Augh!" Chloe yelped in frustration. She tossed her books and notes aside and stalked towards the bedroom.

"Chloe?" Beca peeked out the bedroom door, completely wrapped in the comforter from head to toe, her hair a tangled mess, a pillow crease gracing her cheek. "Chlo?"

"What?" the redhead snapped. "What now?"

"Nothing. I just wanted some juice," Beca replied pathetically, retreating back into the bedroom. "Don't worry about me, I'm fine…"

"Oh, good Lord," Chloe sighed. "What a martyr." She followed Beca back into the room, watching her partner huddle miserably on the bed. "What kind of juice do you want?"

"No, I'm okay. You go back to studying."

Chloe rolled her eyes and turned toward the door. "Fine, I'll go get you some juice." She stepped into the hallway and shook her head. "You sure know how to lay on the guilt, don't you, shorty?"

"And some applesauce, too!" Beca yelled from the bedroom. "Pleeease!"

Chloe's shoulders hitched up around her ears in a grimace at Beca's shout. "Oh, she better get well soon," she muttered to herself. "So I can go ahead and kill her…"

Beca spent her days in bed, moaning, sleeping or begging for Chloe to bring her things. Chloe never thought she'd think it, but she was looking forward to getting back to the hospital and being treated like crap by the holier-than-thou residents she had to deal with.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxo

The next weekend, Beca was still cocooned in bed, hacking, coughing, sneezing and moaning.

Fat Amy stood at the edge of the bed, listening to the lump beneath the covers moaning in misery. She could see Beca's foot sticking out from under the covers, the only part of her body that wasn't completely buried by the comforter at the moment. She contemplated reaching down and yanking the sock off the DJ's foot and before she knew it, she was bending over, reaching down. Her hand was poised just inches above Beca's foot when a voice shouted from the doorway.

"No, Amy! Stop!" Aubrey yelled as she rushed into the room, as if to stand guard over her best friend's partner. "If Chloe finds out you're tormenting her girlfriend, she'll kill you!"

Fat Amy jumped in surprise and yanked her hand back. "Ha! It's okay, Aubrey, I was, um… I was…" She glanced down again. "I was just covering up Beca's foot with the comforter," she babbled as she tried to cover her less than sincere intent, unable to believe the blonde former Bella was acting so protective of the little DJ. She quickly grabbed the comforter and pulled it over Beca's foot. "See? All done now."

Aubrey, on the other hand, wasn't having it. Brow wrinkling, fists on her hips, she stared the other woman down, waiting for her to leave the room.

Sensing the original unbendable Captain-of-the-Bellas-my-way-or-the-highway Aubrey from the other woman's stance, Amy retreated peacefully and stepped away from the bed. "Fine, fine," she acquiesced, holding both hands up in surrender. "I'll leave Shawshank alone." Still backing away, she finally turned and stomped out of the room like a petulant child, muttering to herself as she closed the door in her wake. "Jeez, I can't have any fun by myself. Back in Tasmania, I cured the flu with the fur of a dingo's tail, vegemite and a didgeridoo." She crossed her arms huffily over her chest. "This stinks all up in here…"

Once the door closed, Beca's head emerged from under the covers like a turtle peeking out from its shell. Smiling weakly as she brushed her unruly hair out of her eyes, she attempted to clear her throat. "Thanks, Bree," she croaked.

Aubrey glanced at the disheveled smaller woman and sniffed, trying to appear superior. "I wasn't doing it for you, Beca," she replied. "I've got work to do and I can't deal with Fat Amy and you. You suck as a patient." She turned and stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind her.

"Um, okay," Beca replied with another whimpering moan as the sound of the door shutting made her head throb. "Go back to what you were doing then. I'm just gonna lay here and die…"

xoxoxoxoxoxoxo

That night after checking on Aubrey, who was working like mad on her Master's Thesis and trying not to stress vomit from the pressure, Chloe slid gently into bed so as not to disturb her sick girlfriend. Pulling up the covers, she turned off the bedside lamp and settled in. Almost immediately, Beca scooted up behind her and began nuzzling her neck.

"Jeez, Beca, what are you trying to do?" Chloe exclaimed, reaching back with a hand and holding the brunette off. "You're contagious!"

"I just wanted a kiss," Beca pouted.

"Yeah, right." Chloe paused. "Is that your hand?"

Beca shifted and moved her hand to rest on Chloe's hip. "Just a kiss."

"No." Chloe shook her head. "I have never seen anyone who can be so sick and so... so... horny at the same time!"

"Not even a small peck?"

"I will kiss you," Chloe replied, rolling over to face the other girl. Beca grinned and puckered up. "On the cheek."

"Aw, Chloe!"

"It's either that or nothing."

"Oh, fine," Beca whined. She presented her cheek to Chloe and got the buss. "Wow, great. I'm so excited. Woohoo…"

"Shut up and go to sleep," Chloe replied, already drifting off to dreamland.

Beca then proceeded to spend most of the night shuffling between the bedroom and the bathroom, blowing her nose, sneezing and coughing. Every time she thought she'd managed to clear her head, her sinuses would fill again and off she'd go to attempt to empty them once more. Nothing seemed to be helping, especially not the ineffective sinus decongestant the doctor had prescribed.

"You'd thikk the med school would hab really good drugs," Beca muttered. "Clinical trial kinda stuff that makes you grow a third eye or domeding… But, dooooh."

Chloe rolled over as Beca slid back into bed. "What's wrong, sweetie?"

"I'b a liddle congested...," Beca complained, her head filling yet again.

"A little? Jeez, Bec, you've gone through three boxes of tissues."

"By dose is ruddy."

"Huh, ya think?"

"I've beed coughig a lot!" Beca protested. And to prove her point, she began coughing, sounding like she'd somehow swallowed a bullhorn.

Chloe snorted. "I'm surprised you haven't coughed up a lung..."

"My throat hurts…"

"Beca, you sound like Harvey Fierstein. I swear, last night when you whined for me to get you some juice, I thought there was a man in my bed. You scared the shit out of me!"

"I thik I have whooping cough…"

"Oh, Lord… You know, you've got more snot in your head than my sisters kids have ever had. And kids have a lot of snot. I didn't think that was even possible."

"I'b sorry I'b sick…"

"Oh, come on," Chloe said with a sigh. Beca was so strong, she really became pathetic when she got sick. "Try to sleep, honey. Maybe you'll feel better in the morning."

"I hobe so…"

Twenty minutes later, Chloe felt something. Awakened from a comfortable sleep, she found Beca pressing tightly against her back, in their favorite spoon position, wide awake and something other than sleep obviously on her mind. Beca had her hands all over Chloe, her mouth practically pressed to the back of the redheads neck.

"Beca," she said sternly. "Stop breathing all over me."

"What?"

"Your germs. You're breathing on me." Chloe could think of better things than a snot-filled, loogie-hacking sick girlfriend pawing her like a teenager in lust. "Ick, Beca!"

"I can'd breathe through by dose!"

"Good Lord, Beca!" Chloe exclaimed as Beca's hands began wandering.

"What dow?!"

"You're all clammy. Your hands are sweating!"

"I'b sick!"

"No shit, Sherlock!"

"Well, what do you want me to do?"

"Stop breathing on me!"

"I tode you. Hello... dose... stuffy."

"Beca, you're going to make me sick, too."

Beca grinned suddenly and leaned in, pressing her lips to Chloe's throat. "So we'll be confined to da bedroom togeder. Is dat so bad?"

"Ugh!" Chloe exclaimed, giving Beca a shove, pushing her off the side of the bed. The brunette hit the floor with a thud. "Oh, sorry. You okay?"

"Yeah," came the weak response.

"Good." She leaned over and smacked Beca with a pillow. "How about now?"

Twenty minutes later:

"Chloe?"

"What now?"

"I'b code."

"What? How can you be cold? You have two blankets and a heavy comforter."

"Still. Code"

"Is there anything I can do?"

"Hode be?"

Chloe rolled her eyes. "Oh, my God, what a baby."

"Please?"

"Okay, come here."

Beca quickly curled herself into Chloe's arms. "I love you, Chlo," she whispered, nuzzling her face into Chloe's neck. She felt comfortable there, safe.

"Yeah, and if I get sick, you are sooooo dead." The snore coming from the vicinity just below her ear told her Beca was already asleep and probably hadn't heard her. Chloe sighed. "I love you, too, Tiger."

xoxoxoxoxoxoxo

Chloe trudged into the apartment, dropping her backpack to the floor and her keys on the entry hall table. Blowing out a huge sigh, she kicked off her shoes, one hand against the wall for support. She hated dealing with know-it all residents who treated her and the other interns like gum on the bottom of their shoes. Especially when she was smarter than most of them.

Pushing her hair back off her forehead with another sigh, Chloe's head suddenly came up at the sound of thundering feet in the hallway. Beca came rushing down the entryhall, clad only in blue plaid sleep pants and a tight white tank top, and made a beeline for Chloe.

"Hey, Sweetie, how do you feel-?"

Before she could finish the thought, Beca had her pinned against the wall. Without hesitation, Beca's lips attacked Chloe's rapaciously as her arms wrapped around the redhead's waist, fisting her hands in the blouse Chloe was wearing.

Squeaking initially in protest, Chloe almost immediately began to purr, her arms wrapping around Beca's shoulders. She returned the kiss eagerly.

"Wow, someone feels better," she whispered into Beca's ear when the kiss ended.

Beca pressed her lips to the pulse beating in Chloe neck. "Hmm, you feel pretty good, too." She nuzzled Chloe's throat, her nose tickling the sensitive skin. "My fever broke this morning," she murmured. "And the medication is actually working for the congestion."

"Ye- es," Chloe replied, her voice hitching momentarily. She tilted her head to the side, her hand coming up to tangle her fingers in Beca's silky hair. "I can tell. You don't sound like a foghorn anymore."

"Yeah, Harvey Fierstein called, he wanted his voice back."

That made Chloe chuckle. "Well, I'm glad to have my DJ back," she replied, brushing the bangs out of Beca's eyes. "Because you really suck as a sick person."

"Hey!" Beca exclaimed as Chloe pushed her away and walked off. She quickly reached out and smacked Chloe on the butt. "I was really sick!"

Chloe snorted as Beca pinched her on the butt before turning and heading to the kitchen. Chloe turned to take a swipe at the shorter girl but missed, grinning at how much better her girlfriend must be feeling.

"Yeah, yeah...," Chloe muttered patronizingly. She entered the living room and screamed.

"Oh, yeah," Beca deadpanned, coming up behind the redhead. "Aubrey and Jesse are here."

"I can see that," the redhead exclaimed. Chloe looked at her best friend and her girlfriend's ex, on the sofa and wrapped in each others arms, necking like... well, like her and Beca. "When the hell did that happen?"

"I don't know." The brunette shrugged. "But apparently they're together now."

Chloe snorted indelicately "Obviously. I'm not sure we can pry them apart with a crowbar."

"Huh," Beca snorted. "I'm not going near them."

xoxoxoxoxoxoxo

They called some of the girls, ordered Chinese for dinner then settling in the living room ostensibly to watch some TV, but Fat Amy, Stacie and Cynthia Rose sat on the sofa and looked at the two couples like they were center-court at a tennis match, eyes swiveling back and forth from one pair to the other, all starry-eyed and disgustingly happy, making googly eyes at each other, touching sweetly or kissing happily.

"Oh, man, you guys are, like, so sweet," Amy grumped. "I'm getting a cavity watching this- No, you know what? I think all my teeth are going to rot and fall out of my head."

The two couples either didn't hear her or ignored her completely.

Suddenly, Chloe sneezed. Again. And again. And again. Beca looked at her in shock. Chloe whimpered then moaned.

And Fat Amy smiled.