A/N. (I don't own most of the characters and certain parts of the plot. Courtesy goes to the creative teams behind the Pitch Perfect films.) Based on that Tumblr prompt where Emily travels back in time and uses the surname "Junk" so Beca and Chloe wouldn't in any way recognize her... I'm taking this opportunity to thank you nerds for the wonderful feedback on my other BeChloe multichapt With One Note. For those patiently waiting for Perfect Days to evolve into a multichapt, the cards still aren't in my favor yet. The plot line still sucks big time, ahaha.

I do hope you like this one. I'm going to make it aca-awesome for you Bloe weirdos. Please leave reviews, please. Tell me what you think. They will help me improve as a writer. Thanks!

The Obliteration of Emily Junk

1: Prologue

"It was crazy. It took an NDE for me to snap into the fact that I have been madly in love with my wife since she barged into my shower stall naked back in college." Beca shakes her head slightly – her gentle curls wiggling with her anxiety. "God, this is too cheesy. I'm sorry. Chloe usually does all the speeches."

"And that's why it is rightful that you do this one for a change," Chloe, dressed in a blue floral dress, teases from behind, causing a short laugh from the audience. Beca feels her knees starting to tremble and falls silent for a second. Chloe gets up from her seat and stands beside her nervous wife, taking her clammy hand into her own. "And because, Beca magically lost her tongue, I'll be finishing this gratitude sp-,"

"No, no. I'm fine. I can do it," she tells her before regaining composure and heaving a breath. It is awful enough that she let Chloe force her into wearing something other than jeans or slacks; the skirt she is wearing doesn't have a pocket she can shove her numb hands in. "I'll d-do it. It's our 20th wedding anniversary, and our story's always worth the tell. At one time or another, you probably have heard the story of how Chloe and I snapped out of pretense and realized that we should've been dating already, but I will still re-live the experience as I re-narrate it to you guys tonight."

Beca realizes that Chloe is still standing beside her, her soft hands constantly warming hers – much to her delight. "It was during this 'a cappella only' party that the Trebles hosted on our senior year – held on this exact same day thirty years ago. It was still early, but there was already too much alcohol and too much dancing. Chloe Beale here, decided to go for a splash in the pool, six Tequila shots in-,"

"Seven, actually," Chloe playfully corrects her as she leans onto her wife.

Beca shoots her an amused look of disbelief shortly before continuing. "Seven Tequila shots in… And we all know that alcohol and swimming are a recipe for disaster… and it was, on that night. I saw her weakly struggling to stay afloat and shouting that she couldn't breathe well. I dropped my cup spot on and dived into the pool to pull Chloe out. She wasn't breathing and she barely had a pulse. I blew two breaths into her mouth and thank goodness her chest started rising and falling again. I called her name loud and when her electric blue eyes finally showed, I pulled her up into a tight hug – crying, repeatedly whispering into her ears: I need your-,"

"I need your heart to keep beating so that mine will," Chloe finishes the quote as Beca says it. "And to think, everyone seems to believe that I'm the cheesy one in this relationship," she teases again. "Our dearest family and friends, we couldn't be more thankful enough that you all came here tonight to celebrate with us our crystal anniversary. I know that we all have our personal lives, and that Barden is a lot of miles away for some of you, but you are here and that's what matters."

"Oh you are so dead," Patty Allen whispers mockingly to Emma – who is standing stiff from the sea of people.

"I thought we were just hanging out for some nostalgia again! If I knew that the anniversary was the reason for this visit to Barden, I would've gotten them something!" She says in her defense. She finally realizes why Chloe seemed a little cold to her that morning.

"Emma, I love you. Don't take this the wrong way, but you're the dumbest person alive," Patty says nonchalantly. "They did exactly the same things (and probably invited the exact same people) on their 10th year: contacting their batch of the Bellas including my mother and Aunt Aubrey, inviting Aunt Chloe's favorite students and faculty members from her school camp, inviting Aunt Beca's officemates from the firm, holding the event here at the Barden Auditorium, telling that same story of your mom saving the other from drowning, and when Aunt Chloe's done with her speech about the positivity of life, she'll probably orient us about the mobile bar, the band, bla bla bla-,"

"It's odd that you know more about my parents than I do," Emma shoots at her.

"And you know more about my parents than I do, Em," Patty shoots back. "The story changes every time my mom would tell it. Plus, it changes to a whole new level if it comes from Dad. There was a version I remember where Dad met Mom at an underground orgy."

Emma cracks a good laugh which she tries to rein in since Chloe is still speaking to the audience. "My mom said they thought of naming you 'Pumper' because they both wanted you to have a part of their names."

"Whatever, Beale," Patty huffs as she licks the chocolate off her fingers. "You're still the dumbest person alive for forgetting to get your moms something for their 20th anniversary."

"Hah! But I can sort this out!" The younger girl snaps with bright eyes. "I'll go to them and greet them and give them my presents and tell them that it was all just an act to make them think they got a monkey for a daughter. I mean, their lovely child could never forget their anniversary!"

"But you did, Beale."

Chloe cracks yet another joke that makes the rest of the audience roar. "Yes, thank goodness my humor isn't as rusty as Beca's. Okay everyone, I won't make it any longer. Again, thank you for being here with us today. There's food and a mobile bar at that corner. Oh, and enjoy the jazz band! The dance floor's for everyone's pleasure. Good evening."

A warm applause lights up the atmosphere and during the uproar of appreciation, Emma pulls Patty into the maze of crowd towards the exit.

"Woah there! Where are you two turd burgers going?" Amy inquires as she watches her daughter and her best friend sprint across the hall.

"Bathroom!" The two says in unison without even turning their heads to meet Amy.

It is a tricky maze getting out of Barden's gates. They have been to the place only twice so they really don't have a clue of the vicinity. Emma is so decided about getting her parents a last minute gift to cover up her clumsy tracks these past few days. Bummed that she doesn't get to enjoy the buffet at this very hour, Patty keeps on reminding Emma of how bad of an idea it is, to blindly roam around the town.

"I need to get them something, Patty!" Emma yells as they pause at a lamp post along an empty street. She starts pacing back and forth, her breathing getting a little frisky in pattern; Patty leans against the post trying to catch her breath. "I need to give my moms some gifts. They've been the best parents to me, and they've been on a wonderful marriage ever since, a-and I need to thank them for always fighting for our family… for me."

Patty notices the rise in her best friend's anxiety. "Alright there, Em. You need to calm down. We don't have your inhaler here. As soon as we find any shop, we'll get simple gifts for your moms, okay? Just, just stop pacing and breathe."

Fortunately, it isn't long before they spot an old record shop from the line of convenient stores in the commercial area. Emma's eyes glisten as she enters the shop and scans her eyes on the rich collection of vinyl tracks. "Patty, we hit the motherlode!"

"This place smells like my grandmother from Tasmania. Why are you so happy? Enlighten me, please," Patty mocks with zero excitement in her veins.

"Mom has a thing for old records. She said she used to stack CDs at the university radio station with Uncle Jesse way back in college." Emma starts browsing through the aisles.

"That's no shocker. Aunt Chloe owns a school for music. It just follows th-,"

"Your Aunt Beca, not your Aunt Chloe," she corrects her. "Mom and Mumsy both love music, but way back when, there was a certain ring to the ears when you hear the name Beca Mitchell."

"I get that she taught you everything you know about DJ-ing-,"

"No, Patty, you don't get it. Mom always wanted to be a music producer. Gramps kind of hated it about her, but when she saw Mom's real talent, he let her anyway," explains Emma as she flips through a stack of records at the 90's section.

Patty scrunches her nose as she tries to make sense of the puzzle pieces. She can't comprehend how a so-claimed music prodigy can just leave the arts and enter clerical office work where you sit on a cushioned chair for eight hours and that's it.

"Finally!" Emma screams as she held a vinyl of 'Else the Tune' by North Dour. "Mom has been looking for this everywhere!"

"Cool, now what are you getting for Aunt Chloe?"

The younger girl scratches her head. "That we have yet to know."

Patty raises an eyebrow and sighs. She hopes to get back to the party before food actually runs out.

"Although, I have no idea how much this one costs." Emma scanned the record she was holding. "No price tags anyw-,"

"This shop is older than Tasmania itself! How do you expect sticky price tags on all these records?!" Patty grabs the vinyl from Emma. "I'll ask the lady at the counter."

Alone, Emma walks a little further around the shop – wandering her eyes at the extended library above her. It is indeed rather an old shop – probably founded in the 1920's, and has survived throughout the change of cultures: the gingham that embraces the counters retains the 40's, the psychedelic prints on the walls represent the decade of the 60's, and the black lights and a few neon lights stay where the 90's left off . There's this shelf bar that has lots of bracelets stapled onto it – Aztec mostly, but they are all wrapped up in stationary dust that threatens to trigger Emma's asthma… except for one. The last ring bracelet at the pole is made of a high-class wood, most likely of Narra and Molave, holding about a quarter inch in width, and some form of ancient alphabet inscribed in pale cyan. It would've given off the idea of its material being Azurite if it weren't for the strong fluorescence that it sports against the black lights.

Emma detaches it from the pole to admire its complexity.

"This one's a hundred and twenty, tall person," Patty says as she offers the vinyl back to Emma.

"What?! I only have a hundred in my pocket! That thing's overpriced!"

"Hey, I don't make the prices here."

Emma stares at her best friend – waiting for her to say something. "Patty, I only have a hundred."

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

At the worst of luck, Emma shoots a familiar look in her eyes. The other girl grunts. "I swear, you would perish without my presence," she jokes as she pulled a twenty from her pocket.

Emma takes the bill and pays for the vinyl at the counter. "Hey, do you also sell these bracelets that hang around?" She holds out the one she got from the shelf.

"If you got that from one of the shelves here, you can have it," the lady says. "Those things make this shop tougher to dust off."

Emma smiles and thanks the lady before heading out with Patty.

"Hey, look at this bracelet I got for Mumsy."

Patty grabs the bracelet and inspects it under the low light of the evening. "How long was I gone and you got to make a detour to a jewelry shop? And I thought you only had a hundred!"

Emma chuckles. "I got that from the same record store. It was a decoration from one of the shelves. I'm pretty sure the lady at the counter didn't know how valuable this thing is. I mean, look at its materials! I can pawn this for a thousand bucks, for all we know!"

"Well, it is gorgeous. It'll fit Aunt Chloe's skin tone and eyes perfectly."

"You're really learned something from that fashion course you took last term," compliments Emma.

"College is great, Em. Everything they teach you apparently comes in handy at one point or another."

"Yeah, I'm pretty nervous about it, actually. I start college next week. Everything happens so fast."

They continue to walk back to Barden. Emma can't resist fondling over the bracelet. Something about it draws her in. She tries it on her left wrist and is astonished by how well it fits. "Mumsy's gonna love this one," she remarks as they journey the side walk.

Suddenly, a bright light appears from the end of the road that is visible from their stance. It's as if a fast-approaching car with super headlights is going their way. Emma holds out a hand over her squinted eyes. "I hate it when cars maximize their headlights. It's too bright!"

"What is?" Patty inquires.

Emma points out right in front of them. "That one. The light. It's getting closer."

"Em?" Patty swears to herself that her best friend is just getting a little goofy as usual but she has no time for it as her hunger level has spiked already. "There's no blinding light ahead, Em. Shake it off."

"What do you mean there's no blinding light?! It's so damn bright!" For a second, Emma shuts her eyes completely to guard it from the light. When she tried to open it slowly, she could feel a strong afternoon wind and could hear the leaves rustling along the warm cement of the street.

It was a sunny afternoon at what she could make out as one of the Barden streets.

"Music! Drinking! Games! More drinking tonight! Don't miss it!" A thick Australian tone greeted Emma.

"Aunt Amy?!" Emma yelled. Her Aunt Amy looked so spirited and… young.

"Aca-believe it! Are you my long lost niece from Perth? I've always known you were alive!" Fat Amy replied.

"What? No, no. I… it's… It's Em," she shot back with pure confusion in her face.

"Right. Okay, whatever. Be at the Treble house tonight. It'll be the biggest party of your life." She handed Emma a flyer and took off.

Emma froze where she stood when she saw the date on the paper. It was the same month and the same date as the night of her moms' anniversary gathering… but 30 years ago.

O-M-aca-G, she whispered to herself. I traveled back in time.