A/N: This is for a Christmas Secret Santa on Tumblr (organized by the lovely Redlance) #Merry Pitchmas 2015
This is for the one and only supernatural loving chloebaele :)
I have never wrote Supernatural stuff, and I hope I got details right? I just really hope you like it, enjoy! And I didn't forget, I'll get to writing the next chapter for Just The Beginning, sorry for the long wait
-With all the Christmas love, Casolia
"Oh god…" Beca winces quietly, her breaths coming out as white puffs in the late winter air, as she pulls up her sweater sleeve as gently as she can. Her mind races with all kinds of possibilities with fear soaking each one as she braces herself for what she is about to see. And as the hem of her sleeve finally pulls up just enough, she could see sickeningly dark, crimson blood seeping out from the teeth marks just below her elbow. She isn't the one to faint at the sight of blood but she's on the brink at the sight of her arm; the contrast between the wine-red ooze and her porcelain skin spins Beca's mind and rockets bile up her throat.
Beca takes in a deep breath through her nose and tries not to dwell on the colour of the blood and examines the bite carefully and patiently. It doesn't look as bad as she expected, but the brunette's not even sure what animal it was that bit her; all she remembers is mostly a blur of what seemed like a fox, or a dog, sinking their teeth and dashing off.
She experimentally wipes a smudge of blood with her sleeve, and sighs in relief to notice that the bleeding has already stopped, or at least lessened than before. "Just a dog bite, Beca, no need to freak out." Beca mumbles to herself out loud as she wipes the remaining blood and pulls her sleeve back down.
She continues walking towards the Bella's house, praying in the corner of her mind the dog didn't have rabies.
Good news: it didn't have rabies. At least Chloe thinks so.
"The bleeding stopped, and it looks pretty clean to me." Chloe notes clicking the first aid kit shut and brushing a thumb over the mark lightly, making Beca flinch, "Maybe it was just a pet dog on the loose?"
Beca's brows furrow as she tries to recall the scene that's now only a fuzzy fragment of her memory, "I don't know, Chloe, I don't remember seeing any collar on it." She pauses for a moment, then suddenly whispers dead quietly, her eyes starting to grow in fright, "What if it had other diseases? Like, fleas?" She twists her arm so she can look at it herself, panic lunging at her heart. Beca's not even certain yet if the animal was actually a dog, but she doesn't say that out loud because there's almost no possibility it was a wild animal like a fox in the city…
Chloe bursts into laughter, clutching her stomach, "Fleas aren't a disease, Becs," Chloe lets out a snort which Beca rolls her eyes at. "And it doesn't spread with biting people, either, so calm down." The brunette grumbles a little "I knew that, duh" which Chloe only laughs harder at and pinches Beca's cheeks.
"You are seriously too cute when you're worried, Becs." She pokes Beca's cheeks again, grinning, "Too cute."
Beca's cheeks burn (she blames it on the pinch, not because she was called cute by Chloe) as she grumbles something under her breath and shakes her head away from the ginger's hands. "I've had experiences with dog bites when I was young, Beca, and It looks completely clean," Chloe assures her but uncertainty is still prodding Beca's stomach.
"But Chloe-"
"And if you're that worried we could visit the hospital tomorrow." The ginger cuts off her childish whine and offers with an eyebrow raised. Beca's face lightens up until she sees Chloe's lips twitch upwards into a teasing grin. "Does little wittle Beca need the doctor to kiss it better?" The ginger coos, eliciting a low grumble and an eye roll from the smaller girl.
Beca decides to ignore her friend's teasing remarks and simply states with her eyes narrowed, "I have to go to work tomorrow."
"I can kiss it better for you right now," Chloe grins and before Beca can shoot a sarcastic remark, she feels feather light kisses landing on her arm. The brunette pulls her arm back at the sudden contact instinctively, but Chloe holds her wrist to continue the little kisses along Beca's arm. The touch sends little shocks through her veins but Beca doesn't show it and instead hums, "Oh Chlo, I feel so much better." Her sarcasm doesn't go unnoticed, making Chloe giggle.
"Since you're all better now, go and have a rest. It's getting late and you have another big day tomorrow." Chloe pulls down the rolled up sleeve for Beca and yawns, stretching her arms.
The brunette lets out soft groan and snorts, "Another 'big day' of being called Reggie and seeing how many coffee cups I could hold at once." Beca rolls her eyes, mumbling, "One day I'm going to just explode and then get fired."
The ginger smiles, heading towards the door, "You're going to be a great, kickass DJ one day though, don't worry. And they're all going to be wanting to serve coffee for you."
Beca responds with a half-hearted shrug but gives a grateful smile anyway. "You're putting too much pressure on me, Beale." The brunette lets out a jokingly weary sigh, a smile still playing on her lips.
"That's how much I believe in you Becs," Chloe grins and blows a kiss, opening the door to leave. Beca pretends to catch the kiss and holds it against her chest, sighing dreamily, which the ginger giggles at.
"Good night, Becs, we have to be in best condition for Worlds that's coming soon too." Chloe's halfway out the door but her singsong voice is heard by Beca clearly.
"I know, Chlo," Beca sighs, "Good night."
Beca rolls around in her bed, kicking the sheets with frustration and buries her face into her pillow. She isn't sure what time it is, but by the complete darkness surrounding her, she assumes somewhere around 'very late'. The brunette hasn't gotten a blink of sleep because the air feels too heavy to breathe in and every time she shifts her position, a wave of warmth blankets on top of her. Her body feels itchy and burning, like ants crawling all over her, and she could already feel her back damp with sweat; which is all so strange, when it's in the middle of winter. Beca lets out a small grunt, rolling onto her right side, to her left then on her stomach, for the umpteenth time.
It goes on like that for another ten minutes or so (she can't really track time in that condition) before she finally sits up, deciding to go downstairs for a cup of water.
She smacks her dry lips and stretches her arms, about to swing her legs off her bed to stand up, before something unexpectedly gets lodged in her throat. Beca tenses at the sudden sharp lump in her oesophagus, and tries to cough it out, but it seems to only dig deeper into her airway. After a few more seconds of struggling, Beca knows she is choking by then, because every faint breath she manages to pull in feels unnaturally sticky in her lungs and the corner of her eyes are stinging with tears.
Her voice is stuck in her throat and won't come out as commanded, and Beca's sitting on her bed, hands just below her neck as she desperately wheezes for air.
"Short stack, you okay?" Amy's groggy voice resonates from the other side of the dark room and Beca's never been happier to hear her friend's voice but the only answer she provides is dry coughing and rasping breaths. She hears rustling of sheets from Amy's side, and a loud yawn, whilst her mind screaming "HELP ME AMY". Beca's almost certain she is going to black out, because dark spots are dancing in the edges of her vision and she's starting to feel light headed and weak, until she closes her mouth and tries swallowing.
And it works.
A ball of fire slides its way down her oesophagus slowly, but eventually freeing it for fresh gusts of air to finally be heaved into her. The sweet, cold air pump into her lungs and she's breathing again, finally. Beca is too concentrated on drinking in air hungrily, with her chest rising and falling feverishly with each breath, she doesn't notice the lights being flicked on and Amy standing next to her with a frown.
"Hey cap', are you okay there? Cap?"
The sound of Beca hyperventilating is the only response Amy gets in return.
"Beca?" The Australian places her hand on Beca's shoulder, which finally gets the brunette's attention.
Her eyes snap up to meet Fat Amy's and lets out a breathless, "huh?"
"You sounded like a koala or dingo drowning, you okay?" Amy repeated, her frown deepening at the slick sweat on Beca's forehead and her unusually paler skin. "Seriously, you look terrible, what happened?"
Beca opens her mouth but closes it again; she isn't sure what exactly happened either. Her throat feels completely fine as if the choking didn't take place and she doesn't feel the same uncomfortable heat itching her body like a second ago. It was as if nothing happened at all. "I, uhhh," She isn't sure what to say. "I'm not sure." Beca admits, rubbing the back of her neck, "I think I just had something in my throat. Or a bad dream…"
Skepticism is evident in Amy's frown, "Um, are you okay now?"
Beca nods slowly, confused herself, "I-I… think so?"
"Are you sure- Holy dingo shit, what happened to your sheets and wall?" Amy points out, her eyes growing as wide as big as dinner plates. Beca follows Amy's gaze and looks down at her sheets to discover ragged slashes on it. Long and clumsy tears like someone had ripped them. She turns to see the wall decorated with the same tears and scratches, crisscrossing each other.
"What the…" The brunette gulps, but before she can finish her sentence, Amy is breathing out rapidly, "Those look like the same scratches my uncle Jo's room had, the haunted one. He couldn't sleep for a month. Turns out it was the room of a dead sailor's wife who got murdered."
Beca looks up at her friend incredulously, "What?"
"Please tell me you made those or I am about to lose my cool." Amy whispers quickly, her wide eyes still trained on the wall.
Beca is so close in actually believing the story Amy whispered until she looks down at her nails. Chipped paint. A shiver shocks through her spine: How in the world-? Her chest builds up with cold horror but she plays it off cool, for now. "I think it was me, don't worry." The brunette lets out a dry laugh, but fear is cold in her chest and builds up slowly, "I guess it was from all the thrashing in my nightmare."
Amy doesn't think of it as much as Beca does and whistles, "Cheezus Christ, cap, you have scary nails. At least it's not Uncle Jo's damn curse. " She shakes her head, "Remind me to never get in a cat fight with you."
Beca chuckles, nodding, but her mind's still screaming in alarm.
The brunette wakes up earlier than others- more like she didn't get to sleep- and stares at the wall blankly, struggling to remember how she, herself, had scratched it. She looks down at her nails again for the millionth time that day, and she is reminded again that yes, she made those marks. Beca can remember the violent rolling around and thrashing that night but still; how? How, how, how?
She's not even sure what to feel; angry? Scared? Sceptical? She takes a deep breath before she lets the frustration get the best of her and decides to cover the scratch (she still thinks it vaguely resembles claw marks, even though the thought of it is ludicrous) with her X Ambassadors poster. She has to get ready for her internship and whatever had happened is messing with her mind so Beca decides to ignore everything that had happened last night, for now.
After having a shower and getting dressed, she can hear the commotion downstairs which tells her all the girls are now awake. She walks down the stairs, manoeuvres her way to the kitchen, and straight for the cupboard for her cereal. There's nothing out of the ordinary today; loud morning conversations and crowded kitchen. But the giggles and talking reaching her ears hits every nerve and makes her insides churn gruesomely
"Hey Beca! I've been working on the new song for a bit last night, and-" Emily's words don't quite reach the brunette's ears, and all she can hear is buzzing and ringing. Beca grits her teeth, hard, as she ignores her unusual annoyance sparking inside her and grips the bowl tighter. The noises in the kitchen feel like small pins prickling Beca's skin, and make her so… angry for some reason.
And before she knows it, she's yelling over the commotion, "Why can't you guys, just shut the hell up?!"
And it works. Everyone shuts up. But the realization of her action dawns on Beca at the exact same moment, making her guts twist in guilt; why did she say that? Everyone's eyes are on her: Emily with hurt in her eyes, CR, Stacie and Amy frowning, Flo and Lily just gaping at her, and Jessica and Ashley cowering in their spot.
"I-I'm sorry, nevermind." Beca mumbles quickly, focusing back onto her bowl of cereal. Silence fills up the air but is quickly cut off by Chloe's chirpy voice that descends down the stair.
"Good morning everyone," Chloe hops off the last stair and grins but it falters the second she notices everyone's uncomfortable expressions. "What happened? Did I do something?" Her eyebrows knit in confusion, looking around. The girls exchange a few looks in between them but finally, Stacie is the one to answer, "Nah, it's nothing."
The ginger shrugs a casual "okay then" and practically skips through the kitchen to retrieve her own cereal. Chloe's presence finally makes everyone resume what they were doing.
Beca is mindlessly scooping spoonfuls of cereal into her mouth, she doesn't notice Chloe asking her to pass the milk. After another three spoonfuls of cereal she finally hears her name.
"Beca!"
"Yeah-what?" She looks up to see Chloe frowning down at her.
"I've asked you three times if you could pass the milk, Becs."
She blinks owlishly at Chloe for a few seconds, before mumbling quietly, "Sorry, zoned out." Beca slides the carton of milk towards her friend.
"Beca, are you okay?" Chloe asks gently.
That question again. Beca honestly doesn't know the answer to that question.
"Mhm," She shrugs.
"Hey cap?" Cynthia Rose breaks the dense silence that seemed to go on for hours in the car. It's only the morning and she feels like an absolute piece of shit already so Beca doesn't turn to face CR and only watches her friend through the reflection of the window Beca's staring at.
Despite not being really in the mood for eye contact and having conversations, she mumbles a quiet, "Yeah?" because she knows she's been rude enough at breakfast.
"How's the internship these days?" Beca wants to laugh at CR's attempt at small talk- she could hear the definite nervousness in the voice- but instead she blurts out flatly, "It's shit."
Her eyes widen at her own words and she shakes her head immediately, "I'm sorry CR, just feeling a bit off today." She apologizes quickly, embarrassment burning her cheeks. Beca bites down on her bottom lip; what the hell? Why was she being so snappy today?
"It's fine. Do they still call you Reggie?"
Beca tries not to be rude this time and tosses a casual "Yup."
And before she can stop herself, she's adding, "It's so freaking annoying when they do." And here comes the uncomfortable silence again. She silently decides in her head to shut up and resume looking out the window, because it seems like that's what she is best at doing.
"Are you sure you're okay, cap? Y-You seem really… mad today." CR stutters quietly and purses her lips afterwards with a scared look. CR's words suddenly ignites a fire inside the brunette's chest and makes her body prickly with the same uncomfortable heat she experienced in the morning.
Beca's teeth gnash together involuntarily as she hisses, her nails scraping the seat, "CR, I appreciate that you're worrying for me." Her head goes into overdrive as the familiar wave of anger washes over her, "But I am fine, thank you very much. If you could just…" Beca's words falter when she feels her one of her nails dig into the cushion of the seat- a little too easily.
Her head snaps down and her heart drops to her stomach; her nails. They're… so… sharp.
"What's wrong, Beca?" CR's eyes flicker to the corner to meet Beca's. The second CR's land on Beca's, they widen instantly and she opens her mouth to say something until Beca screams, "CYNTHIA! LOOK AHEAD."
CR slams the breaks just in time for the car to stop inches from the truck in front of them and Beca winces as the seatbelt hugs her body a little too tightly when she is toppled forward from the momentum. They both sit there, dumbfounded, and catching their breath.
"Jesus Christ, CR, you almost got us killed," Beca lets out a shuddering sigh, still shaken from the near death experience. She gulps as she takes steady breaths to calm her wild heartbeat.
"I'm sorry, Beca," CR apologizes but suddenly whips her head to face the brunette with eyes still brimming with shock, "I-it's just that…" She pauses for a moment before finishing, "your eyes."
"What?" The brunette scowls, cocking an eyebrow. One hand instinctively touches the skin around her eyes gently, "What about my eyes?" She asks, confused.
"T-they were just so…" CR gulps and looks ahead again to drive. "Never mind."
Beca is about to ask what was so unusual about her eyes until she feels that she can't move her other hand; she turns to see her nails are embedded into the cushion so deeply that her hand is stuck.
She is definitely not herself today.
"REGGIE. Where is that cup of coffee I asked for an hour ago?"
Beca grips on the coffee cup tightly, as she takes in deep breaths through her nose. Counting to ten always works like a charm in other days, maybe to twenty on some days, but neither of them has worked today.
"It's not ready yet," She tries to keep her voice steady but there is clear trace of malice, "And it has been only ten minutes since you've asked." Beca takes another quivering deep breath before adding "…sir."
"Well it feels like an hour, Reg, get on with it 'cause I don't have all day," Her boss calls from the other side of the room, and Beca can easily imagine him on his phone scrolling through Instagram with his legs resting on his office desk. And the thought only ticks her off more than she already is. Then there it is again, roaring white anger flaring in her chest and rolling through her like waves of wildfire, and she doesn't notice her hands shaking until she feels hot water slosh out of the cup and onto her hand.
It's happening again. The burning in her skin and churning insides- the feeling she had before she lost it in the morning. "Stop, stop, stop." She whispers to herself frantically, squeezing her eyes shut. Beca's chanting to herself repeatedly; she has made coffee before, and today is any other day at the internship, so she will not snap and get her butt fired.
"Reggie, I'm waiting."
She finishes making the coffee with whatever water was left in the cup, and walks over to him.
"Here." She mumbles, placing the slightly crumpled cup in front of him. Just as she thought, he is on his phone, with his legs propped up on the desk- and the sight isn't helping with controlling her anger. He looks up from the screen and stares at the cup, then up to Beca. The brunette is pursing her lips silently and waiting patiently as he grabs the cup slowly and brings it up to his lips.
After a sip, and a few smacks of lips, he sighs heavily, setting his phone down. "Reggie, listen to me." He pinches the bridge of his nose with one hand and shakes his cup of coffee gently with the other, "You see this? This tells me how well you're going to be in producing music, yeah? It tells me how well you're going to fit in with our company." He's joking, right? Bitter resentment shoots up her throat and Beca bites her lip to hold back a snarky response as her boss continues, "And this tastes real bad. So what does that tell me?" He lets out another sigh, shaking his head as he slides the cup of coffee back towards her.
"If you can't even get one coffee right, how will I ever trust you to make good music, Reg?"
Beca can taste blood in her mouth from biting down on her lip so hard. She is so close to losing her shit.
"I'll make you another cup of coffee." She hisses through gritted teeth. Her body temperature soars infinitely higher and her hands are starting to tremble uncontrollably.
"Make it good this time, I don't have time for correcting interns" The music producer grumbles, looking down at his phone.
Enragement takes over Beca's senses and she suddenly can't think straight. Her mind is a complete blur as she flexes her fingers and curl them up into fists. The nails. They're back. Beca can feel them digging in her palm, probably drawing blood. She slowly reaches out for the cup and grips it.
Her fingers curls impossibly tighter around the cup and crushes it easily with a pitiful 'scrunch'.
Her boss's eyes dart back up to look at the crunched piece of cardboard in her hand and higher to meet Beca's with bewilderment, "What the hell, Reggie?"
An intense throbbing pain takes place in her gums and she wants to cry out in pain but instead lets out a rumbling growl that's an octave deeper than her normal voice. She feels like she's just burning now, fire dancing beneath her feet and prodding her all over the place. Sharp rushes of agony attack her arms and neck and the brunette's lip curl up automatically and bare her teeth for some reason, as she responds simply, "I'll get you a new cup."
"R-Reggie, I-" The music producer is now shrinking in his chair with alarmed eyes, "I-I think you should take a break, yeah? You did enough for today."
Beca has no idea what is happening to her body or why her boss is cowering in fear but that thought gets interrupted the second a sharp wave of pain ripples through her spine and pierce every inch of her skin. She wants to scream for help, scream in agony, but her voice comes out as a non-human like snarl, ripping the air.
"What the hell is she?!" Beca catches the words whispered from the other side of the room.
…What?
"Someone get that freak out of here!"
Beca turns around to stare at the person who is half hidden behind a chair, trembling from his knees. He stiffens on the spot the second they make eye contact, and looks like he's about to piss his pants and cry at the same time. She wants to ask what is happening to her- but she gets her answer when her eyes find a mirror on one of the desks.
The brunette finally sees what she looks like.
Insanely bright eyes stare back at her in the mirror. The colour of glow sticks and LED lights contrasts with her heavily dilated inky black pupils and an unmistakable murderous glint in her eyes. Her lips are permanently upturned for white, long fangs to be bared and gleaming, with thin strings of saliva dripping from them. Her ears are long and pointy at the tips, and a bone chilling scowl is painted across her face.
Cold horror washes over her as Beca drops the mirror, which crashes onto the floor and shatters, and looks down at her shaking hands. Veins are popping on the back of her hands, and her nails are terrifyingly protracted and razor-sharp, like a shark's tooth embedded on the tip of her finger for each one.
All her features remind her of something she read in novels and watched in movies. Something that was always a myth or a legend to her, no matter how many times she heard the story.
A werewolf.
The frigid dread of realization chills her bones and everything feels numb now, the heat completely replaced with cold. She looks up slowly to see each one of the people in the room. Every look of terror, fright or disgust delivers a hard blow to her stomach, and she can sense the stinging tears in her eyes.
Her eyes flicker down to one of the pieces of the cracked mirror; this is her.
It's clear to her now; Beca is a werewolf.
A monster.
She does the only thing that comes to her mind: she runs.
"T-this isn't happening," Beca's whole frame shakes as she buries her face into her hands, sitting on a public toilet with the lid down. "This is just a bad dream, and I-I will wake up." She mumbles to herself, over and over.
But she never wakes up.
What will her friends think of her? What will Chloe say? She glances down at her hands, where her nails were retracting to normal length slowly.
Why is she even wondering; no one will accept her. Even she finds herself terrifying.
"W-why," A sob attacks her throat as Beca sniffs, hiccupping, asking no one in particular, "W-why me?"
Beca takes a deep breath in front of the mirror, gripping the edge of the sink.
She can run away if she wants to. She can leave the Bellas, leave Chloe, leave her family, but she chooses not to. Because…
"You have Worlds soon, Beca Mitchell. You don't have time for this crap. The Bellas need you." She reminds herself steadily, blinking back tears. The image of her eyes strikingly bright and her canines grown into fangs still burn the back of her eyelids.
Do they really need her?
Will they need her after they realize what a monster she now is?
"Just hold it together. For the Bellas."
Her heart twists gruesomely as she adds quietly, "For Chloe."
"Are you okay, Beca?" CR asks, and Beca can't help wonder how many times she has heard that today.
"Yeah."
Thankfully, CR doesn't say anything the rest of the car ride back home.
"Beca! Beca!"
The second the brunette enters the house, she's greeted by a gleeful Emily running up to her with a wide smile and waving a small notebook. Beca doesn't meet the cheery girl's eyes and tries to head straight upstairs but Emily literally blocks her path and starts jumping up and down like a little kid. "Finally you're back! Look at this, I've finished all the lyrics to the song! I've been practising for a while, but I'm not sure if it works perfectly, I-"
"Hey Em." Beca cuts her off and tries to address her as calmly as she can, but her sudden calmness must've been noticeable because the girl stops talking and whimpers like she's getting chastised.
"Yes, Beca?" The fright in her tone makes Beca's insides curl; she doesn't want to hurt Emily, heck, that's the last thing she wants to do, but it her voice makes it look like she was about to.
"Can we… C-Can we talk about this later?" The brunette mumbles, trying not to pay attention to how Emily's face drops instantly. The guilt is gnawing her alive but she can't afford to lose control again. Not in front of the Bellas, especially.
"B-But…" Emily sputters quietly, fidgeting with the corner of the notebook and looks down at her toes. "I worked really hard this week and you haven't even heard it yet…"
"You could've asked before I left, then." Beca's cold words are thrown out carelessly and she can feel Stacie, who's at the kitchen, stare at the brunette incredulously alongside with Flo. Emily's expression looks like a puppy that's been kicked, and the expression itself is already killing Beca. She's about to apologize until Emily speaks in a quavering voice, on the verge of tears.
"B-but I did this morning, and…" Emily takes a big gulp before continuing, "You didn't say anything so I waited for you to come back…"
Beca's mind doesn't even take a second to think back to how she blatantly ignored Emily in the morning and starts building up annoyance. She opens her mouth to reply as calmly as she can until Stacie's the one to cut her off this time.
"Hey Beca, I get it you're tired, but I watched Legacy work all day on it today. Give her a chance, will you?" The leggy brunette calls from the other side of the kitchen, and that only riles Beca up more.
"No one asked for your opinion, Stace." Beca growls lowly, mostly to herself, but apparently Stacie hears it and scowls deeper.
"What's your problem today? Seriously, no need to be freaking rude to everyone because you're in a bad mood." Stacie scoffs, rolling her eyes. Beca feels the familiar heat bloom from her chest and spread through her torso. White anger flashes behind her eyelids and boils in her stomach. She has to leave, now, before it gets worse.
"I'll be in my room." She mutters, storming past Emily and Chloe who just arrives downstairs, without a word.
Beca's right in front of the stairway, almost about to finally go up to her room, until Stacie's snort reaches her ears, "Legacy, don't worry too much. She's just being an asshole today."
Her nerve is pulled like a rubber band until it is impossibly taut.
Then it snaps. It happens all at once.
"I DON'T FUCKING CARE, OKAY?!" She whips her head around and screams to no one in particular. Her body is on fire again, burning every inch of her skin, and her voice is hoarse and gravelly, but loud enough to reverberate the entire living room. She knows she shouldn't have responded to Stacie. She knows she should've ignored it and locked herself in her bedroom. But her temper got the best of her.
She can hear her friends stifle a surprised gasp and Emily stammering with trembling fear, "I-I… Are you o-okay, Beca?"
Is she okay? The brunette lets out a dry bark of laughter before sarcastically muttering, "I couldn't be any better, Legacy.'
"Beca." Her eyes snap next to her to see Chloe staring at her with stunned, wide eyes but her voice is level and controlled. "Can I talk to you privately, upstairs?"
Chloe's words send a ripple of pain through her body and colours burst in Beca's head like fireworks and makes everything more chaotic. No, she doesn't want to talk to Chloe. She just wants to be fucking alone, which is too much to ask for apparently. Her lips curl up as a deep growl rumbles from her throat.
"Just, leave. Me. Alone-"
Beca opens her mouth to continue until she hears a number of another collective gasps. Her eyes dart around the room to see her friends all staring at her with the same expression: pure terror. Her insides twist.
"B-Beca, y-you're eyes. You're teeth." CR is shaking as she slowly backs away, along with some other bellas, "I-it's just like…"
Beca's ears ring loud enough to block out the words as Beca runs upstairs, into her room, and locks herself before she can hear the rest of the sentence.
Her heart is slamming against her chest and her breathing grows quicker as she replays the looks on her friends' faces downstairs. They looked at her the same way as everyone did at the internship; like a monster. She leans against the door, trying to calm down, repeating that it was inevitable, it was better now they all knew, but ends up sobbing into her knees. Just crying uncontrollably, like a little child, and she can't help it. The brunette attempts to muffle her cries with the back of her hand but every sob is strangled out anyway, filling up the empty room in a matter of seconds. Because she knows she screwed up big time.
Three soft knocks echo the room suddenly, making the brunette wipe her eyes frantically and try to hold back her hiccups.
"I know you're in there, Becs." Beca flinches at the quiet, tender voice coming right outside the door.
She breathes in shakily, "Go away Chloe." Her voice is still croaky but at least it sounds half human this time.
Beca holds her breath to listen to Chloe's steady breaths behind the door, and after a moment of hesitation, the ginger finally answers, "Can I just talk to you, please?" Her voice is pleading and desperate, which Beca almost obliges to. Almost.
"Then talk." She says harshly, but her voice cracks at the end and her vulnerability is now too obvious. She can hear Chloe take a deep breath before whispering through the door, "I want to see you, though."
Beca chokes out a dry laugh, "Are you fucking sure, Chloe? 'Cause it seemed like no one really wanted to downstairs."
"Beca, you know that's not true, we were-"
"What, Chloe?" Anger and hurt swells up inside Beca's chest as she tries to keep her voice even but it's obvious it's quivering, "just scared that I was going to murder someone? Maybe bite someone and make them just like me?"
The other side is silent for a few seconds, before Chloe states clearly, "I know you would never do that." She says it with so much confidence that Beca wants to laugh out loud again at the absurdity.
The brunette looks down at her hands, where the nails are still scarily sharp but shorter, halfway to normal. She bends her fingers and skims the nails with her thumb. And there's blood on the pad of her thumb. The sudden awareness of how deadly she is strikes Beca square in the chest.
"I-I'm a monster, Chlo," She whispers quietly, a sob climbing up her throat again and her frame shudders violently. "Everyone won't ever look at me the same, a-and I can't even control myself anymore."
"Beca-"
"I don't know when I-I'm going to explode, when I'm going to hurt someone, Chloe," She's biting down her trembling bottom lip but that doesn't prevent the painful sobs escaping her lips. "I'm so scared of myself."
Beca doesn't know what she expected from Chloe but she clearly didn't expect the ginger to respond so quickly.
"I-I honestly don't know what you are going through Beca," Chloe admits quietly as Beca listens intently, staring down at her knees. "And maybe I'll never know, but Becs, don't shut me out, please." Chloe's shushed but begging voice makes the brunette's insides coil. "We can go through this together, I'll always be by your side." The brunette sucks in a deep breath at the words and she opens her mouth to say something along the lines of 'You're just saying that' but Chloe continues before Beca has the chance.
"I'm scared too Beca, but I'm not scared of you. I'm scared for you. I'm not scared of how you will hurt me when you explode, I'm scared of how you willget hurt when you explode." A tear rolls down Beca's cheek as she swallows thickly and listens. She doesn't get it; why? Why isn't Chloe afraid of her like she is?
"Why do you even care if I get hurt when I-I might hurt you, Chloe, maybe even," She breathes out slowly, "physically."
"Because I love you, Beca, and if you get hurt, I do too."
The brunette's heart skips a beat at the words. Her mouth is withered and her mind is racing, but she doesn't get the chance to decide if Chloe meant platonically or not because the ginger keeps speaking.
"Beca, whatever you might go through, just remember, please, that I'll be there with you." She can hear Chloe's voice shaking as it goes on further, though not with fright, but from the tears. "I'll love you no matter what, Becs." The whisper sends jolts through Beca's body and she has to take a moment to let the words sink in.
The brunette slowly stands up, taking shaking breaths as she unlocks the door and twists the knob to pull it open.
And she sees Chloe, standing in front of her, smiling. Beca doesn't know if her eyes are still glowing freakishly, or if her ears are still pointy and long, but Chloe is smiling like no other day, smiling like she usually does. Smiling like Chloe Beale does to Beca Mitchell every day. And in that very moment, Beca doesn't feel like a werewolf, or a monster, but feels like herself; the same sarcastic DJ who led the Bellas into victory last year, with the black ear spikes and rebellious and snarky attitude towards Aubrey Posen.
She feels normal again; like an actual human being.
And the feeling makes her bury her face and let the tears soak Chloe's shoulder, with the ginger's strong supporting arms around her. She can feel tender fingers stroking her hair and rubbing her back gently, and she's crying, holding her Chloe tighter, not wanting to ever let go.
"You'll always be the same Beca Mitchell to me. Always."
Merry Christmas everyone :)