A/N: Thanks again for all the wonderful reviews! I know it seems a little like I'm torturing Beca and Jesse but I promise that I honestly do love them that their story will have a happy ending! I just didn't want things to be too easy, since I felt like that wouldn't exactly be believable. But I promise every cloud has a silver lining! I hope you all enjoy this section as well. The title comes from the song "Hallelujah" by Jeff Buckley/Rufus Wainwright/etc.
"It Goes Like This: the Fourth, the Fifth, the Minor Fall, the Major Lift, the Baffled King Composing Hallelujah"
Jesse's reshelving movies one afternoon when his manager decides they're closing the store early today because it's a perfect and beautiful day outside and no one is going to come in and rent a video because no one gives a shit about renting movies anymore. Jesse doesn't really complain because he's pretty much been making work for himself for the past two hours and it is a really nice day and maybe he can convince Beca to cut out early and they can go with Chloe down to Venice Beach or do something else that doesn't involve work. He's pretty sure that Chloe's second audition was this morning anyway, so they might have something to celebrate.
He texts Beca as he lets himself into the apartment and finds Chloe balled up on the couch sobbing into her pillow. She looks up at him like a deer in the headlights before quickly sitting up and wiping at her eyes, which are swollen with tears. "I…I…thought you were wo-working." She chokes out, still trying in vein to wipe at her cheeks.
Jesse sits down on the couch beside her, putting a hand on the small of her back. "What happened Chloe?" He's never seen the red-head so much as frown, let alone in the middle of a complete and total breakdown.
Chloe only starts crying harder and covers her face with her hands, like that can somehow hide her from him. Her clothes are rumpled and askew and Jesse wonders how long she's been sitting here like this, sobbing her heart out in an empty apartment. He continues rubbing circles on her back, making soothing sounds every so often, not bothering to try to engage her in conversation again. Chloe leans against his shoulder and continues to cry, her entire body shaking so hard that Jesse sincerely worries that she's going to completely fall apart.
"Look, if this is about the audition-" Jesse begins, in hopes of distracting her but Chloe sits up suddenly and looks at him with wide eyes, so he falls silent.
Chloe shakes her head and wipes at her face once more. "They never thought I was talented, that's not what it was about." She mumbles, straightening her twisted shirt. "It was never about that at all."
She doesn't say anything more but at least she's not crying at the moment, so Jesse figures he'd better not press the issue. He gets her a glass of water and then starts boiling some water for tea. Chloe takes the mug from him but doesn't move to drink it, staring down at the steam twisting out of the top.
Jesse gives Chloe her space for the rest of the afternoon. He goes to the farmer's market when he gets a text from Beca later telling him that she's not working a double and should be home before dinner. They don't have a ton of extra money, but he figures they have enough to spring for something other than ramen noodles for dinner and it seems like Chloe could use a little pick me up. He buys stuff for shrimp scampi and a cheap bottle of wine and a small bouquet of freshly picked flowers for both the girls and when he gets back to the apartment, he finds Beca sitting on the couch next to Chloe, patting her head as the red-head launches into a fresh round of tears. Beca gives him a panicked look when he walks in like she's not entirely sure how to deal with this sort of situation but she doesn't make an effort to untangle herself from her friend, so Jesse figures Beca's making a little bit of progress.
Chloe doesn't say anything about the audition past the fact that she didn't get the part and she's pretty sure acting isn't for her. Jesse can't stop thinking about Chloe and how destroyed she looked and how unlike herself she still is, even days after the failed audition. He can't stop thinking about coming home one day and finding Beca like that, completely wrecked and stripped of her last bit of motivation and drive.
Two weeks later, Chloe tells them that she's decided to head to Charleston and stay with Aubrey for a little while and help her out with the dance studio while she figures out her next step. Beca looks disappointed but, as usual, does a good job of hiding any sort of emotion while she tells Chloe that she'll come visit both of them in Charleston as soon as she can. The apartment feels empty without Chloe bouncing around and cleaning all the time and in her place is the elephant in the room: the unspoken question of whether or not they'll eventually leave the city with their tails tucked between their legs, unable to keep their heads above water anymore.
Leaving L.A. has never been discussed or even brought up in passing but it's been on Jesse's mind more and more recently and he wonders if Beca ever thinks about it. She's still working on her music and sending out mixes but there's a hollowness to her now, like she's simply going through the motions and doing what she thinks she's supposed to do. In truth, the idea of leaving has crossed Beca's mind a few times, especially since Chloe has disappeared from her life once more. One afternoon she sincerely thought about going to Jesse and broaching the topic with him as she stood in front of their refrigerator, which was empty. Legitimately empty. It's not like they're starving or anything but Beca is a little embarrassed by their quality of life at the moment and she wonders if she's just a masochist, sticking around for the next rejection and the next person to tell her that she's not good enough. But then she thinks about leaving and honestly, where would they go? Nowhere else feels like home.
Beca applies for a barely-paid internship at one of the recording studios in the area and three days later gets a call from the assistant of the head honcho, who wants to set up an interview. Beca recreates her I-just-got-a-job victory dance and this time Jesse joins in, sweeping her into his arms and spinning her around. Beca laughs as she teases him for being such a weirdo. They're celebrating a bit prematurely but Beca doesn't care because she has a good feeling about this. It's her first interview, her first chance. She knows once she plays some of her mixes for this guy that all her hard work will finally pay off.
Beca has never had particularly spot-on instincts. Her interview doesn't go quite the way that she hopes. She brings along several different flash drives of mixes and Sterling Spencer, head of the studio, listens to a few of her tracks without comment. Beca isn't sure that she's ever felt as awkward as she does sitting there across from him, watching his face for some sort of reaction to what he's hearing. There's not even a nod or anything, no indication of how he feels.
After listening to a few tracks, Spencer gives her back the flash drive. "You've got some potential." He tells her, not unkindly. "But I'm just not sure that we need someone on our team who's so raw and unpolished."
His words tear at Beca's heart but she forces her face to remain impassive. "I have others." She offers, moving to reach into her bag for the many other flash drives she brought along.
But Spencer stops her. "Look, Beca, was it?" She nods on reflex. "Beca, like I said, I think you have a great sound. But it's just not what we're looking for right now. You just don't have that polish that we need."
Beca barely remembers to thank him as she stands up and leaves his office. She walks back to the apartment expecting the other people on the sidewalk to yield to her and if they don't, she pretty much elbows right past them without a second glance.
Jesse is at the apartment when she lets herself in and he pauses the movie that he's watching and looks at her with this big smile on her face. "Beca, how did-" She storms into the bedroom and slams the door so hard that she knocks over the plant that has barely been clinging to life over the past year.
Jesse feels his heart drop down to his chest. This sort of reaction can only mean one thing. He gets up and goes into the bedroom to find Beca curled up on the bed in a fetal position, her face blank as she stares at the wall. In some ways, this is worse than finding her a crying mess. At least then he could take her in his arms and wipe away her tears. How do you help someone so stoic?
Jesse goes around to her side of the bed, kneeling down so that he's eye level with her but she's still staring at the wall. "Beca...it's okay." He reaches out to brush a lock of hair behind her ear.
Beca pushes his hand away, her sudden movement surprising Jesse. She sits up, narrowing her eyes at him. "Don't. Don't do that." She tells him. "Don't be nice to me. It's not okay. I'm not okay. I've just been fooling myself." She shakes her head. Beca doesn't know if she wants to scream or cry or just breath a huge sigh of relief because she can finally stop trying. She can just rest.
Jesse looks at this girl, this person that he has loved more than anything in his life for the past five years and he can't see the Beca Mitchell that he's known since his first day at Barden. He sees someone empty, someone broken, someone who just lost everything she has and doesn't have the strength to get it back again. He sees Chloe sobbing on the couch. He realizes that this is the moment that he's told himself to look out for, the time when he would finally put his foot down and save them before they imploded.
"Maybe we…" Jesse takes a deep breath, getting to his feet. "Maybe we should leave. Go back to Atlanta, start over, do something else."
Beca just stares at him for a moment and Jesse can't decipher the expression on her face. But it's still scary. Finally she shakes her head. "Fuck you Jesse."
She gets up and goes into the bathroom, slamming the door shut once more. Jesse stares after her for a moment, surprised, before his shock starts to dissipate and is replaced by the stinging feeling of anger. "Excuse me?" He walks toward the bathroom and tries the door, finding it unlocked. Beca glares at him, annoyed at his intrusion into her refuge. "What the hell did I do?"
"You want to leave?" Beca questions, her voice deadly serious.
Jesse feels like they've come to a turning point in their relationship and the next words out of his mouth are going to determine the course for the rest of his life. Because this isn't the type of thing that he feels like they can come back from.
"We've been here over a year. We barely make enough money each month to pay our rent, let alone eat and it's just…it's not working." Jesse tells her. "This isn't working. We can't do this forever."
Beca curls her fingers into fists, digging her fingernails into the palms of her hands so hard that she knows she's going to leave behind marks. She doesn't care. "I didn't know that there was a time limit." She says curtly. "I thought we were going to stick it out until we finally made it."
"How long is that going to be, Beca?" Jesse questions. "How many times do you have to hear back that they're just not interested? How many jobs do I have to be turned down for? How long are we going to stick it out? Until we get evicted? Because this isn't easy. It's not easy for me and I know it's not easy for you."
"So you don't think I can do it?" Beca questions. "You don't think I have what it takes."
Jesse exhales and it sounds almost like a groan. "No, I did not say that. Don't put words into my mouth right now."
"That's what it sounds like to me." Beca snaps. She knows that she sounds like a bratty child ten seconds away from stamping her foot because she's not getting her way. But she doesn't care. Because this important. This is the rest of her life, this is what she's been working for since she was thirteen years old. "It sounds like you don't think that I can make it."
Jesse can't help but roll his eyes at her. "You're right Beca. You're always right. Don't you think I've learned that over the course of our relationship? You can be a huge pain in my ass sometimes. You're legitimately the most stubborn person that I know but don't ever try to tell me how I feel about you. Have I ever behaved like the type of person who didn't think you could make it? I followed you across the country, I've stuck it out with you, I haven't seen my family in over a year."
"Well, if you're so miserable then you should just leave." Beca fires back. "Leave."
"Stop putting words in my mouth!" Jesse can't keep himself from yelling. "I'm trying to help you! Do you think it's easy for me to stand around and watch this? This is killing you!"
"This is where I belong! This is where I want to be! I thought that was what you wanted too, but clearly I was wrong." Beca shakes her head. "I'm not going to force you to stay with me Jesse. I don't need you."
Jesse hates the way that her words cut straight through his chest. "You don't mean that."
Beca narrows her eyes. "Yes, I do. I can do with this without you." Her voice trembles slightly but not enough to betray the way that her heart is pounding in her chest, the way that she's already desperate to recall the words that now hang in the space between them.
Jesse opens his mouth to say something but he thinks better of it, shaking his head and turning away from her. "Fine." He leaves the bedroom, heading for the front door.
Beca follows after him. "Where are you going?"
Jesse doesn't answer, he just slams the door shut behind her. He's halfway down the hall and toward the stairwell before Beca falls to her knees in the living room and finally, for the first time in years, really allows herself to cry.
Jesse wants to punch something, he wants to kick something over and yell and just tear stuff up and create a physical destruction that resembles the way that he feels inside. Because he never thought that he would ever hear those words come out of Beca's mouth. He thought that deep down that Beca really did need him as much as he needed her; he'd made peace with her lack of expressing her feelings. But maybe he's just been fooling himself this entire time. Maybe loving Beca is more self-destructive than anything else.
He knows it's cliché but he goes into a bar and orders a drink and sits on one of the stools and glowers down at the sticky surface of the bar. No one bothers to try and talk to him or ask why he's in a bar in the middle of the day and Jesse figures that he doesn't exactly give off the vibe that he really wants to talk right now. He nurses his drink and replays his conversation with Beca over and over again, looking for a way to reinterpret the things that they said to each other.
His phone starts vibrating his pocket and Jesse pulls it out quickly, hoping to see her picture on his caller ID. But it's an unfamiliar number, not local so Jesse lets it go to voice mail. He feels a fresh wave of disappointment rush over him. I can do this without you. Those were her exact words. Jesse can't get them out of his head. But he also can't shake the image of her laying curled up on the bed either. He can't forget how she looked at him seconds before they started to tear into each other, the expression in her eyes that said I need you, please fix this.
Jesse finishes his drink and starts wondering if maybe he didn't overreact just a little bit. Maybe he picked a bad time to broach the subject of leaving L.A. After all, Beca was already down; he didn't have to kick her too. And he hates, more than anything, that she thinks that he doesn't believe in her. Because that's not what this is about and he wants her to know that.
His phone starts ringing again and it's that same unfamiliar number. Jesse hesitates a minute before answering, trying to figure out who would be calling him right now.
"Is this Jesse Swanson?" It's an unfamiliar female voice on the other line and if the number wasn't from the Atlanta area code, Jesse might get his hopes up about a potential job interview. "I'm sorry to just call you like this, I actually got your number from student services. My name is Shelia Mitchell, I'm Beca's…I'm married to Beca's father." There's a pause. "Beca Mitchell."
"Yes, yeah, hi." Jesse says as he slides off the stool, tossing a few dollars onto the bar. The knot he's had in his chest since his argument with Beca has only gotten worse. "What's…is everything okay?"
There's another, lengthier pause. "I tried calling Beca but she…she never answers any of our calls. Her father's, I mean. He calls her all the time and…" Shelia trails off, clearing her throat. "Anyway I…it's crucial that I speak to her now."
Jesse leaves the bar and stands for a moment on the sidewalk, blinking against the glare of the sun. "What's this about?" He's not sure why, but he feels protective of Beca, like this woman is going to somehow ruin the life that they have here. As if they hadn't already done that themselves.
"Her father is in the hospital." Shelia says without preamble. "He's suffered a massive heart attack and it's still touch and go at the moment. I know that he would really want her to be here. I think it would make a huge difference to him if she was here." Jesse starts to express his concern and sympathy for her husband's condition but Shelia just presses on. "We can pay for her ticket, I just…it's important that I get in touch with her."
Jesse starts walking back toward the apartment, suddenly desperate to see Beca. It's like all the anger he felt toward her is suddenly gone and he just wants to hold her and start over. He wants to have her hold onto him and know that she didn't mean what she said because he didn't mean any of it either.
"I'm not with her now, but I'll tell her to call you as soon as I see her again." Jesse assures Shelia. "I'm sorry."
"Make sure she calls." Shelia emphasizes, like she's not sure that she can trust Jesse to deliver the message. "Make sure she knows how serious his condition is."
Jesse assures her that he'll do as she's asked and hangs up with Shelia just as he reaches the apartment building. He walks up the flights of stairs to their apartment and his relieved to find the door unlocked, because he didn't think to grab his keys or anything when he stormed out.
Beca isn't in the living room and the bedroom door is slightly ajar, so he nudges it open cautiously. Beca's back is to him and she doesn't bother to acknowledge his presence. She's got her suitcase on the bed and is in the process of folding clothes into it and Jesse's so surprised by her actions that he questions, "Oh, so you talked to your step-mom?" even though it's an illogical conclusion.
Beca turns to face him, an expression of confusion on her face. "What? Talked to Shelia? No. Why?"
Jesse takes a deep breath and holds the phone out to her. "You need to call her."
Normally Beca would argue and drag her heels and just decline to do it in the end. But there's something in Jesse's face, something that tells her that Shelia isn't calling to try and convince her to partake in some girl bonding or to make up with her father. She takes Jesse's phone and locks herself in the bathroom to make the call.
Thirty minutes later, Beca's in a cab on her way to LAX and Jesse is standing in their empty apartment. She hardly said a single word to him as she finished throwing some stuff in a bag and got the rest of the things she needed for the trip and Jesse feels almost worse about things than he did when he stormed out the first time. He has no idea what she's thinking or feeling and not just about them; she didn't say anything about her father and her face was as expressionless as always. Jesse had tried to move closer to her, to pull her to him and offer some sort of comfort but she managed to sidestep his every attempt.
The apartment feels too big for the first time ever and Jesse's sure that he wasn't even this lonely when Beca left to go L.A. without him over a year ago. Every morning he woke up knowing that she was on the other side of the country and that just made the day seem to go by that much slower and three weeks seemed like an impossibly long time. He remembers the promise he'd made to himself when he pulled into the parking lot of that shitty motel that she'd been staying in; he'd sworn that they'd never be apart again if it could be helped. Everything they did from that moment on, they'd do together. Jesse wants that to still be true.
Jesse's eyes fall on Beca's equipment, which is still set up on its little table in the corner of their apartment. He knows that the old Beca, no matter how big of a hurry she was in, would never have left her stuff behind. She used to take her laptop with her everywhere, always seeking a moment of downtime when she could work on her music. Somehow seeing it here without her makes everything seem so much worse. Jesse takes out his phone and thinks about calling her or even just sending a text message, but in the end he decides against it, unsure of how to say everything that he needs to say to her. And, to be honest, he's not even sure there's anything left to say at all. Because it's not until Beca's gone that Jesse realizes that she was packing a bag before she even knew about her father and he never got the chance to ask her where she was going.
The next few hours pass by in a blur. Beca feels like she's moving on autopilot when she arrives at LAX and collects the ticket that Shelia ordered for her and, more importantly, paid for. She figures that she can't blame her disorientation on jet lag alone when she lands at Hartsfield-Jackson and feels like she has no idea how to put one foot in front of the other. Everything is just happening too quickly and Beca wants to press the stop button and just take a deep breath. Her interview with Sterling Spencer feels like it happened to someone else and even her fight with Jesse seems like it happened years ago. And now, on top of everything, her father is in the hospital, possibly dying, and it's too much to compute.
Beca takes a taxi to Piedmont Hospital as per Shelia's instructions. She watches the scenery pass by the window without really registering what she's seeing. She thinks about the last time she saw her father and all the calls of his that she's sent to voicemail, all the messages that she deleted without even listening to. Beca still feels like she's a little in shock because she doesn't feel like she's quite registering the fact that her father could be dying and she hasn't said a single word to him in over a year.
When Beca arrives at the hospital, she rides the elevator up to the fifth floor and finds the room number that Shelia gave her over the phone. Shelia is sitting in a plastic chair next to Robert Mitchell's bedside, her hands clutching onto his.
Shelia stands up when she realizes that Beca is standing there. "I wasn't entirely sure that you were coming." She tells the younger girl candidly. "You've never exactly been dependable."
"Thanks Shelia, it's nice to see you too." Beca mutters. But she's honestly too exhausted to care about her step-monster's snark or even put up a fight. She puts down her suitcase and steps toward the bed, her eyes on her father. "How is he?"
"The doctors are still monitoring him very closely." Shelia tells her. "It's hard to say right now. It was a massive heart attack. All we can do now is wait."
Beca hesitates for a moment before reaching out and taking her father's other hand, running her thumb along the ridge of his knuckles. "Hi Dad." She says, feeling a little silly talking to the air but she would feel worse standing there just staring. "Here I am."
It's not like a movie, where the return of the prodigal child somehow fixes everything and all is forgiven. Her father remains as motionless as he did before her arrival and the only sound in the room is the reassuring beep of the machines, keeping everything working for the time being. But Beca still feels better being there, like she's finally managed to do something right.
Shelia falls asleep a few hours later and Beca is relieved to not have to make awkward conversation with her anymore. Her father is still quiet and motionless but Beca continues to hold onto his hand, feeling the weak beat of his heart against her skin. She remembers being little and seeking the comfort of her father anytime she had a nightmare or was worried by something that she had no control over. She would sit in his lap and lay her head against his chest, listening to the beating of his heart and convince herself that everything was okay as long as she could hear that steady thumping. Beca wonders when she stopped seeking that sort of comfort.
And then she realizes that she never really did stop. The only thing that usually makes her feel better when she's upset or anxious is laying with her head on Jesse's chest, listening to his heart beat against her ear as he plays with her hair and talks nonsense to her. Beca closes her eyes, suddenly feeling the sting of tears. All she wants is Jesse to hold her right now, to pull her against his chest and assure her that everything is going to be okay. With them, with her dad, with the world she can't control. Beca feels like there's more than just distance separating her from Jesse right now and she wishes that she'd at least looked at him before she walked out the door to get on a plane to come to Atlanta. Because the last clear image she has of Jesse is the way that he looked when she told him that she didn't need him. Beca has told a lot of lies in her life, but she's pretty sure that that's the biggest one to ever grace her lips. She prays that Jesse doesn't get fed up with her before she has the chance to set it all straight.
Robert Mitchell wakes up the following afternoon, weak and disoriented, unable to remember much about the morning of his heart attack. His confusion only deepens when he turns his head and sees Beca standing there, her expression tentative and her eyes watery. But then an expression of relief crosses his face and it's like all the pieces have finally clicked back into place. He reaches a shaky hand out to her. "Beca," his voice is raspy and weak, "my beautiful girl."
Beca goes to her father and takes his hand, resting her forehead against his shoulder. Her relationship with him has never been perfect, not since she was fourteen and he walked out the front door for the last time. But being at Barden had helped improve the tenuous connection between them and it's not until this very moment that she realizes how much she's missed even just talking to him over the past year. She thought it would be easier if she was the one who left this time, but now she realizes that wasn't the case.
For the rest of the day, Beca remains by her father's bedside, even when he drifts off to sleep for hours at a time. She brings him water when he needs it and is always there to harass the nurses into being more attentive. They don't talk much about anything of any consequence, not at first anyway; instead they just watch reality TV on the set affixed to the wall with Beca providing a running commentary about the stupidity of America and Robert offering a few comments of his own every now and then.
Later that night Robert insists they watch an old Bruce Willis movie that's playing on one of the channels and Beca remarks without thinking, "I've actually seen this movie. Jesse made me watch it with him." But thinking about Jesse is like a punch to the gut because they haven't even exchanged so much as a text since she's been here and she really worries that she's finally screwed up this too, finally pushed Jesse too far away for him to come back again.
Robert sees something on her face and gives her hand a light squeeze. "Did he come with you?" He questions gently and Beca just shakes her head. "Beca…is everything alright?"
Beca opens her mouth to assure him that everything is fine and he doesn't need to worry about her but the words freeze in her throat. There's a part of her that doesn't want to worry her hospital bound father but there's another part of her that still doesn't want to admit to him that she hasn't taken L.A. by storm and she's working as a waitress and getting rejected by pretty much every nightclub, radio station and record label in the city. She just shakes her head again. "No. Everything in pretty much in shambles honestly."
And then the words come pouring out like all she's been waiting for is for her daddy to make everything okay. She tells him about being unable to find a real job and struggling to make ends meet and about her meeting with Sterling Spencer and her fight with Jesse. "Maybe you were right," she mutters, staring down at her hands, "maybe this isn't what I need to be doing. Maybe I need a real job, something more stable." She's been trying to come to terms with this idea over the past twenty-four hours, trying to accept the fact that maybe Jesse was right, maybe there's a time to finally just grow up.
Robert gives her hand another squeeze. "Beca…I've thought about that night a lot. Those things I said…I…I think I was still being stubborn and I guess a part of me didn't want you to leave. I wanted to keep holding onto you, to make up for all those years that we…" He takes a deep breath and shakes his head. "But if anyone can make it out there, if anyone has the talent and the determination, it's you. I'm so proud of you Beca, I'm proud of the woman that you've become. Sometimes things take time but I know that you can do this."
Beca feels her eyes fill with tears and she feels like she can't swallow around the lump in her throat. "Dad…"
"Are you happy?" Robert questions. "In L.A.?"
"Yes." Beca can answer that without hesitation because, last few days notwithstanding of course, she has been happy. Despite not having any money and having hardly no furniture and eating ramen noodles every night, she's been happy. Because she's has Jesse and that somehow makes up for everything that she doesn't have.
Robert smiles. "Then that's what you need to hold onto Beca. It seems like that's where you belong. I'm sorry I ever said anything to make you think otherwise."
It feels good to finally have her father's approval, even if she's no longer sure of herself.
The hospital finally discharges Robert with a list of future appointments, foods to avoid and strict instructs to take it easy. Beca tries to join Shelia in fussing over him but after half a day of being smothered by two women, Robert tells his daughter rather forcefully that she needs to go back to L.A. "I'll be fine, Beca." He assures her. "Just try and stay in touch, okay?" That's a promise Beca can make.
Robert pays for her ticket and uses his frequent flier miles to upgrade her to first class and in spite of Beca's protests, gives her a little bit of cash to take back with her. "Are you really going to deny your sick father?" He questions when she first refuses to take the money. Beca wonders how long he's going to be able to play that card.
Beca stares at her phone as she waits to board her flight; it's just after eight in the morning in L.A. and she's sure that Jesse is still asleep. She can picture him sleeping on his back with one arm draped across his face, snoring softly. Beca wants to be there with him, she wants to be home. She just hopes that he's still willing to let her through the door.
The ringing of the phone wakes Jesse and he rolls over with a groan, fumbling around on the floor until his fingers brush the cell. He's a little annoyed that his day off is starting so early and he's not really in the mood to talk to anyone. But he answers anyway. "Hello."
There's a few beats of silence and Jesse can hear the hum of people and conversations on the other end of the line. "Um…hey." It's Beca. Even with all the background noise and the shaky, unfamiliar tone in her voice, Jesse can tell.
He sits up, suddenly feeling wide awake. "Bec." He says simply. It's a sentence in itself, a prayer, a thank you, a sigh of relief.
It's been almost four days since she walked out the front door and she hasn't called or sent him a text or anything, not even to let him know that she made it safely to Atlanta or that her dad was still alive or anything. It was complete radio silence. And yeah, Jesse knows that phones work both ways and he easily could have called her and he almost did, several times but he never quite managed to finish dialing her number. Jesse didn't want to crowd her but he also didn't want to hear over the phone that she wasn't coming back or that when she did get back to L.A., she was getting the rest of her stuff and leaving. He wanted to apologize, but he also wanted to hear her say the words first. He can be stubborn too when he puts his mind to it.
Jesse has never seen or heard Beca cry because even after five years she's still the master of her emotions. He's gotten better at reading between the things that she does say, but she can shut him out so efficiently that it's scary. But Jesse is pretty sure that she's on her way to crying right now.
"I'm…" Beca takes a deep breath. "I'm about to get on a flight. To come home. Could you…would you pick me up? At the airport?" Her words are wobbly, like she worries that he's going to hang up on her or leave her to find her own ride.
But Jesse just smiles. "Yes. Yes I will absolutely pick you up." He feels the tightness in his chest begin to loosen, feels himself start to relax for the first time in days. Because this is a start; this is Beca needing him. Just like he still needs her too.
Her flight gets in around one thirty local time and Jesse feels like it might as well be days. There's no way he's going back to sleep now and he busies himself with cleaning their small apartment, which really isn't that messy anyway. He gets a little bit of money together and decides to go to the farmers market and pick something special up for dinner. Maybe he's being a bit premature, but Jesse doesn't think that Beca called him to pick her up at the airport so they could have a break-up talk. He's feeling optimistic about the future of their relationship, even if the future looks uncertain in all other areas.
Jesse can't remember the last time that he actually got behind the wheel of his car to drive anywhere; probably when they moved into their apartment. They live close enough to just about everything to walk, so the car has been pretty neglected as of late. Jesse has thought about selling it a time or two but always comes up with a reason to keep the old beater around. He's glad that he doesn't have to figure out how he's going to get to the airport to retrieve his Beca; he can just get in the car and go.
Even though airport security discourages parking cars in the loading and unloading zone, Jesse can't keep himself from throwing the car in park and getting out to pull Beca into his arms when he sees her walk out of the terminal and into the bright L.A. sun. She puts her arms around him and presses her face against the side of his neck and they stay that way for a few seconds before the honking of horns and the complaints of the other drivers force them to separate.
They don't talk much during the drive back to the apartment but the silence between them isn't uncomfortable. Jesse can tell that Beca has something to say and he also knows there's no point in trying to drag it out of her until she's ready to talk. Beca feels like letting out a sigh of relief as soon as she steps through the front door of the apartment; it might not be much, but it feels like home and having Jesse standing there beside her makes it just about perfect.
Almost as soon as the door shuts behind them, Beca turns to face Jesse. "I'm sorry. I screwed up, I…everything I said was wrong. I was wrong Jesse. I can't do this without you. I don't want to."
"Beca-"
"I just…I felt like you didn't believe in me anymore. I always felt like as long as you thought I could do it, as long as you thought I had what it took then I could do it, I really could. And then I felt like you didn't and it just hurt." Beca presses on like she's delivering a monologue. "But maybe you're right. Maybe we should leave and start over somewhere. And if that's what you want, then that's what we should do because-"
"Beca." Jesse says a little more forcefully this time, holding up a hand to bring her to a stop. "I'll never stop believing in you. Ever." He tells her forcefully. "You can do this. And I'll be right there with you."
"But what about leaving?" Beca questions tentatively.
Jesse shakes his head. "I don't want to go anywhere without you." And really, where would he go?
"No, Jesse, no. I don't want you to stay just for me. I can't do that to you. We tried it my way and now-"
"We'll keep trying." Jesse interjects. "Until we make it. I really don't care where we are Beca or if we have to eat ramen noodles every night and if our couch used to belong to a drug dealer. None of that matters as long as we're together."
Normally Beca would make fun of him for being so unbelievably cheesy and Jesse braces himself from her teasing remarks but instead she just puts her arms around his shoulders, holding onto him for dear life. Jesse holds her against him and he wishes that it was socially acceptable to spend every minute with her because he would totally do it.
"I love you." Beca says softly, closing her eyes as she listens to the soft beating of his heart.
Jesse grins, glad that she can't see the idiotic smile on his face. "I love you too weirdo."
TBC
