Disclaimer: I don't own Pitch Perfect.

Inspired by Tomorrow Will Be Kinder by The Secret Sisters.

Fix Me?

Chapter One - Tomorrow Will Be Kinder

She couldn't think. Or breathe. What had happened? She didn't fully understand. Her brain just shut down. It hasn't ever done that. Not with her other relationships. But then again, those were completely different situations, and she was always the one to break it off. Those didn't end abruptly, seemingly without reason, with them so. . . Disappointed. Yes, disappointed. How had this happened?

"Bec, how come you never talk to me?" Jesse's voice pierced through her headphones, as it always did.

"What do you mean, dork, I always talk to you," she states, eyes still glued to her laptop's screen.

"Beca Mitchell, just look at me," His demand in his voice made her head whip around. Only now did she notice the seriousness, the anguish, the hurt, on his face.

"Jesse, what. . ." She starts, confused.

"I'm tired of you not talking to me," he interrupts her. "You know everything there is to know about my family, where I grew up, all the things in my past that truly matter. And you know what I know about you? Nothing. Nothing that I didn't hear from someone else, or figured out myself." His face is now turned away from her, but she can still see his fists clench. Hear his breath hitch, his voice catch as he tries to hold in his emotions.

Realization dawns on her. He wants to know her. Honestly and truly. He had waited this long, hoping she would come around. She had been working on it, really. It's just. . . Nothing seemed to come out when she wanted it to. Her childhood horrors just wouldn't get past her lips. She loved him, but that wouldn't travel to his ears, either.

"Jesse," she starts again, but this time the thing that makes her stop isn't his voice, but his head. The head that just keeps dejectedly shaking left and right. Back and forth. A metronome that Beca knows she pushed, but she can't stop.

She tries again. "What am I supposed to do?" Her voice is smaller than Jesse has ever heard it. "Tell you lies? I'm trying, Jesse. Honestly." Her voice is building, growing stronger. "Don't you think I want to be able to tell you all about me? About why I can't get anything personal to push past my lips? Or how I lo-" she chokes on her own words. His eyes widen. That's the closest she's ever gotten to saying it. But she just can't. So she backtracks. "How I look for you every time I enter a room?" Her voice is barely a whisper by the end.

Jesse's face softens for a fraction of a second before going cold. "You talk to Benji and Chloe. I know you do. They know certain things that trigger your little stints of not talking at all, and they try to help. But I can't do that because I don't know anything. I can't help and it hurts. And. . ." Beca waits for him to collect himself. "And I can't do this anymore. This should- no, has to. This has to end."

"Jesse," she pleads, "I'm sorry. I- I'll try harder. I won't tell them things until I can tell them to you." She begins to sob, something he's sure almost no one has heard come from Beca Mitchell before. It hurts him, but he has to stand his ground. "I'll work on it even harder than I have been. Just, please. Don't. . . Don't go."

"Then tell me, Beca!" He's angry now. She can just tell him stuff and then he won't have to go! It's not like its that hard to speak. "Tell me about your family. Tell me why you can't tell me. Tell me why you are as messed up as you are now, and what I can do to fix you!" He screams before realizing what he said.

"Bec, I didn't mean-" he tries to say as her sobs break and her face scrunches in anger.

"So, I'm messed up, am I? You need to fix me? And of course you are going to be the knight in shining armor that saves me from myself. Just like in all the cookie-cutter movies you made me watch. But you know what?" He can see the fight leave her eyes. "You know what?" She repeats in a whisper. "Life's not like that. And if you aren't willing to let me work through my problems, give me the time I need without pushing me into becoming someone I'm not, then. . . End it, like you said. End us, if you want. Because I need time and support. Can you give me that?"

Silence. But that silence speaks volumes to Beca. It says, No. I can't. It repeats his words, and her heads twists them. Messed up. Fix you. Let me fix you. You're too messed up. You can't be fixed.

Jesse grabs her face roughly with his hands and pulls her face to his. Despite his hands, the kiss is gentle. Beca's hands lift to tug at his hair and everything gets more desperate. Their hands, their lips, their thoughts. But then she hears it again. Messed up. Fix you. Let me fix you. You're too messed up. You can't be fixed. She pulls away. The words can't be taken back, the lust will only temporarily replace the hurt.

Beca gets up, grabs her laptop, and leaves. She doesn't look back. But she hopes. She hopes he will call her name. She hopes that he didn't mean it. Hopes that he isn't as angry as he seemed, that this doesn't last long. She hopes this is a dream.

She hopes tomorrow will be kinder.

AN: All right! AJ, aka thecurlingiron, had a birthday a looooong time ago. I was working on a one-shot that kind of got away from me (it now has 7,000+ words so I got a bit too into it, I'll post it sometime in the next month) for a belated birthday present, but seeing as I'm dragging that out a bit I worked this up in the last couple days. Think of it as a pre-belated birthday present- did that make any sense? Anyway, AJ, I explained in a PM to you where I've been, sorry again. Forgive me?

As far as SLYAN, the reconstruction is slow-going. I just started high school, am taking advanced classes, and am in three clubs. So just hang in there, and I'll try to give you little one-shots like this in between to tide you over.

Reviews aren't required, but are lovely to have!

Until next time!

-Aimee

Edit: Hey, someone asked how long this was going to be. If anyone is interested in a chapter or two more, let me know and I'll get to work!