Author's Note: This fic is a stand alone fic and in no way connected to my other fic, Chloe Beale. Have fun reading, awesome nerds!

Beca may be used to shutting people out but she can easily attract people. I mean who won't be drawn to her, with her brown locks which is most of the time braided in beautiful sequence any people who appreciates a good "hair design" will think of as hair porn, with her passion with what she loves most, music, and with her blue eyes that sometimes seem dark whenever her passion's being stepped on by others but will shine brightly whenever she does something that makes her smile reach from one ear to another.

I can never explain her quite clearly to anyone, the accurate description of her that all I can think of is an 'enigma'. Sure I can tell you her favorite color, her favorite Beyonce song, and yes she can openly joke about her parent's divorce but not once have I heard her mention her mom. She is upfront with how angry she's with her dad for leaving them, but that's all there is to it, as far as I know. When did she stopped being sad? Being frustrated with her dad finding solace from the arms of another woman? I certainly can't tell you that.

Remember when I told you Beca can easily attract people? Well I forgot to mention that she can make anyone fall for her. Not deliberately though, for her part, I mean. She didn't make me fall for her, okay she did, but do you get me? I fell for her, I don't know when, or how, all I know was that, she was being all her 'Beca' self and bam! Like a mole that pops up in a whack-a-mole game, the realization came sudden, fast, which surprised me and terrified me.

It has been 18 years since we decided to make a family, you read that right, she was the lucky one, she got the awesome Chloe Beale, actually no, I'm just kidding, I was the lucky one. She chose me.

"How about, adoption?" Beca asked me while we were turning in for the night.

I wrapped my arms around her midsection and pulled her in closer to me, "I was thinking of looking for a sperm donor, and I'll carry the baby."

"You sure? You would have to take months off from your job, and you love your job." Beca kissed my neck.

"Yeah, I want our baby to really come from us." I kissed her lips and melted right into her, it has been years but I still feel all tingly when her lips met mine.

"Okay, I love you."

"I love you too."

Beca was excited with starting a family, she started reading all those books about pregnancy and parenting, watching videos, and she even signed us up for some seminar. And, all she can talk about when we were looking for a sperm donor were baby names.

"Alexander for a boy, Alexandria for a girl," Beca came in our room with a tub of ice cream in hand, I was grading some papers, "Or, Georgina for a girl and then George for a boy."

"We haven't even found a donor yet," I glanced up from the papers I was grading and gave a light-hearted chuckle, "You just want to have a name that we can nickname the baby with a unisex one."

"It's a great idea!" Beca ate a spoonful of ice cream, the ice cream grazed the side of her lip.

"So when we name her Alexandria, we can call her Alex," I stood up from my chair and took the spoon Beca was holding, "And then if we use Georgina, we can call her George."

"I'm I a genius or what?" Beca smirked at me as I dug the spoon on the tub of ice cream.

"Why not names like, Tony? Or Kim?" I asked after eating a spoon of ice cream.

"Alex." Beca said, I smiled at her and wiped the ice cream from the corner of her lip.

"Alright." I kissed her, as I went out to grab a glass of water from our kitchen, I heard Beca triumphantly saying 'yes' from our room, I chuckled and shook my head.

"Yes sweetie," I said through my phone as I turned right into an intersection," I'll meet you there. I love you."

While Beca was all excited with the prospect of having a baby, I suddenly become terrified. I mean, what if it doesn't work, what if I wasn't fit enough to carry the baby, what if my eggs won't work. I never told Beca I was terrified, but I never did have to, she knew, she knew me too well, as much as I know her too.

"I'll do it." Beca was kneeling in front of me, we just got home from the doctors.

I didn't know what to do, I failed her, she wanted to have this baby as much as I do, but I can't give it to her. I couldn't stop my tears from falling, I was afraid this would happen.

"Chlo, talk to me." Beca pleaded, she grasped my hands into hers, I desperately looked away from her.

"Love, listen to me," I felt Beca's hand on my cheek, I leaned into it, my tears were slowly touching her skin, "I love you, okay. And I want to do it."

I looked into her eyes, I hate how those eyes were filled with worry, I hate doing this to her, hurting her.

"I'm sorry." I managed to say.

"Oh God," Beca whispered as she stood up and wrapped me in her arms, my forehead was against the crook of her neck, I mouthed "I'm sorry" over and over, I wasn't sure if she could hear me, because I couldn't even hear myself.

I was one of those women who couldn't possibly carry a child. I feared I might be when I learned Beca was ecstatic with the idea of raising a baby, building a family. But you know that little hope, that little hope that told me, "No, everything is alright. We'll have a baby", but that little hope was crushed into a million microscopic pieces in a shattering, deafening way when the doctor explained my situation.

Beca was the one who carried the baby, of course, no matter what, she insisted that we name the baby Alex.

I parked my car and got off, I hurriedly walked towards my destination with a basket and box in hand. My phone vibrated, Alex was calling.

"Hey sweetie, where are you?" I said as I treaded my way, the grasses touched the soles of my shoes, "I'm almost there, I can almost see you."

I pocketed my phone and was a few strides away from our daughter, she met me halfway.

"Hey, mom." Alex kissed my cheek and took hold of the basket I'm carrying, "Come on, mommy's waiting."

Alex already placed the picnic blanket, I crouched and opened the box I had with me. I carefully slid the cake out of the box. I ripped the candle I tapped on the side of the box and placed it on the cake, I was about to retrieve a lighter I prepared in my bag when Alex handed me one.

"Alexandria Rebeca Mitchell Beale," I eyed my daughter, "Why do you have a lighter?"

"I just started smoking, mom." Alex shrugged.

My jaw dropped and seconds later, I saw her sport an ear splitting smile.

"I'm just joking, mom!" Alex laughed.

I breathed a sigh of relief, I know she's an adult and she can do what she wants, but health wise, Alex was better off without huffing those. The pollution is bad enough for her lungs, I wouldn't have another factor damage my daughter's lungs.

"Ha-ha," I lighted the candle, "I blame you Beca for our daughter's sense of humor."

"Make a wish, sweetie." I watched as my 18 year old daughter closed her eyes and blew the light of the candle. Her eyes shot open, her face now with a sad smile. I placed the cake back on the blanket and sliced the cake, hoping to divert Alex's attention.

We ate our slices of cake in silence for a few minutes, Alex was the one who broke it.

"Mom,"

"Yeah?"

"I got in."

I watched as Alex unfolds an envelope and took a paper out, she handed it to me.

It was an acceptance letter to her dream university, I dropped the letter and hugged my daughter. "I'm proud of you, mommy is surely proud of you too." I said against the side of her head. I felt her tightened her grip on me.

"Tell me a mommy story, mom."

I loosened my grip on her and she extracted herself from my embrace, I smiled at her and nodded, we both looked at the headstone in front of us where it read, 'Rebeca Mitchell Friend. Wife. Mother. Badass DJ'

I touched the headstone which marks the place we laid Beca to rest.

"When we were in college, I barged into the shower stall your mom was using."

"You what?"

I chuckled and wiped a tear forming in my eye, remembering that day in the showers.

"I heard someone singing, I had to know who own those set of pipes."

"Aunt Aubrey is right, you have a personal space issue, mom."

I smiled at what Alex said, I saw her smile sadly once more, her eyes, her eyes where so much like Beca's.

I reached for her hand and squeezed it, "It wasn't your fault, sweetie."

She shook her head, her eyes were brimming with unshed tears," I killed her, mom. I killed mommy."

I wrapped her once more in my arms, it hurts to see her blaming herself for Beca's death.

"She'll be okay." Aubrey tried comforting me.

"They're taking too long, Bree." I was in tears.

Beca's OB came out of the double doors, I rushed to her, "How are they?"

I saw her shook her head, the only words that I heard her say were "Beca's gone. Lots of blood. Baby's fine. Needs to stay at the hospital."

"I'm sorry, mom." I heard Alex whisper.

"It wasn't your fault." I took Alex's face in my hands.

"They could have saved her too."

"They could only save one, sweetie."

Alex engulfed me in a hug, every year we will visit her mommy, we'd celebrate her birthday here, every year she'd say her sorry to me, to Beca. Every year. God, I miss you so much, Beca.

"She would have wanted you to live." I kissed the top of her head, "Why don't you get the flowers I left at the car for mommy."

I felt her nod against my body, she stood up and grabbed the keys I placed beside the basket.

"Hey, Becs. She's 18 now, as you can see, she got your sense of humor." I chuckled a little.

"I miss you, so much. Alex, she still blames herself. I finally told her about me bursting in your shower, she said I really do have a personal space issue."

Alex slowly walked towards the headstone, she placed the flowers on the middle, "Hey, mommy. I got in my dream university, mom said you'd be really proud of me. I also tinkered with some of your mixes, I hope you don't mind. I wish I got to know you mommy. I'm sorry, mommy."

Alex sat down beside me and laid her head on my shoulder.

Beca Mitchell, the enigma of my life. She gave me everything and left me with a wonderful daughter. I let the three words I know I'll never stop saying get caught in the wind, Beca Mitchell, "I love you."