Hey guys. So, I'm going to college whoop whoop—Carleton College in Minnesota. No more college apps for me. As such, I really have no excuse for this uber late chapter, so I'm REALLY sorry. But thanks for hanging with me this far. I can't guarantee more frequent updates because I suffer from Fanfic a.d.d, but with your support, I'll do my best! There are probably several grammar mistake hidden in this, but I just want to get the chapter out, so forgive me please. I don't own Pitch Perfect and all that jazz.

Just like an amnesiac

Trying to get my senses back

(Oh, where did they go?)

Laughing with a mouth of blood

From a little spill I took

(Oh, what are you laughing at?)

See I traded my plot of land

For a plane to anywhere

(Oh, where do you go?)

And I can't see the future

But I know its got big plans for me

(Oh, what does it see?)

"Laughing with a Mouth of Blood", St. Vincent

&.&.&.&.&

Beca was an expert of keeping her emotions locked up tight. She'd been doing it ever since her parents had divorced—no matter how angry she'd gotten, she'd realized that nothing made a difference, and she'd retreated into her own mind. Music was always there, so Beca had devoted all of her energy into an outlet that she could control. She spent a lot of time in her room, doing what her parents had called sulking and rebelling—she'd called it a forced surrender. They obviously weren't taking her wants into consideration, so she wouldn't talk to them at all. People were difficult to communicate with, and half the time the interactions were hurtful anyway. Maybe she was surly and had a bit of an attitude, but at least she wasn't crying anymore. Tears were the worst.

But the problem with holding everything in is that moment when you finally snap. It was those moments, when she took out all her frustration on an innocent bystander, that Beca usually lost a friend. This time, she was worried that she would lose a boyfriend.

Beca had gone through a list of the possible dates that the travesty could have occurred. She and Jesse weren't reckless, but they were young and in love, and sometimes they bedroom escapades could get a little sloppy. These instances were few and far between, but she narrowed down the possibilities. Given her stomach problems (she refused to call it "Morning sickness", even in her mind) she was probably almost three months along. When she thought about it, she could convince herself that maybe the test had been a mistake, because she wasn't exactly showing. Sure, she'd put on a bit of weight, but no large spike recently. She'd just chalked it up to the cafeteria pizza, which she had a particular weakness for, and not enough exercise (she'd never really gotten the hang of the whole cardio thing). Jesse hadn't seemed to mind, or notice, that her stomach wasn't flat as a pancake.

But then again, not every woman looked like a balloon in the beginning—and, Beca shuddered, there was an entire television show devoted to women who didn't know they were pregnant until a little person popped out of the lady parts. Obviously they hadn't put on much weight, either.

Beca didn't have a very balanced diet to begin with, sometimes skipping meals to finish a mix, or living off of Lays chips, so she supposed she shouldn't have been surprised that her body wasn't at the peak of health. And now, her strange cravings for pickles (she hated pickles, they were unbearably slimy looking) made a lot more sense.

Yet she couldn't resist the green vegetable now. She brought a jar of them with her to Jesse's dorm room for their Movie Night, and she could smell the popcorn through the door. Although she'd honestly have preferred avoiding Jesse forever, because every time she saw him she was reminded of the fact that she somehow needed to tell him that she was currently carrying his progeny, she couldn't exactly refuse a tradition—that would seem suspicious, and would probably lead to a heated argument where she would spill everything—and that was not how she wanted bring it up.

She wondered if Jesse was secretly psychic, because the movie he'd chosen for them was Juno. Effing Juno. Her mouth fell open when he opened the plastic box, and seeing her reaction, he asked,

"What, do you not like Juno?"

"I haven't seen it." She said, but she knew enough about it to be very apprehensive about a comedic film about a teenage girl getting knocked up. It would probably be a terrible reflection of her own situation. But she would suck it up, because after all, it was just a movie. She wasn't expecting to have any great epiphanies because of it. She could make it through ninety minutes.

Too bad it examined pregnancy, social pariah-ism, abortion, and adoption—the whole shebang. Not only that, but Juno handled it with such good-natured sarcasm and wit. Beca sort of wanted to punch Jesse in the face, especially because he had the habit of narrating the entire thing. Normally, she found it cute, but as he chimed in with his own opinions of the character's actions, she was tempted to throw his laptop across the room.

"I don't know what I would do if I got pregnant at that age." He said.

"I don't think that was ever a risk for you." Beca said. "You don't have any lady parts." She was pregnant at age 21, and that was scary enough, never mind being a teenager. So Juno had chosen to carry a baby to term—Beca hadn't decided yet. She'd done everything in her power to not think about it period, or all the periods that she'd missed, or the fact that she was going to have to tell Jesse, ad then everything would be ruined between them because she doubted that she could handle a relationship with three people…

The movie was coming to an end, and Jesse was still narrating and pausing expectantly for Beca to give her own sarcastic and/or cynical view of it, but she was silent. She didn't think that Jesse would appreciate hearing what she was really thinking about the film. When the credits started rolling, Jesse closed his laptop with a snap.

"Okay, what the hell is wrong with you, Beca? You've been quieter than usual tonight, and that's a really bad sign. Did I do something wrong? Are you worried about something? If you didn't want to watch a movie tonight, you could have just said something, we could have gone bowling-"

"Oh my god, just shut up, Jesse!" Beca raised her voice, rolling her eyes.

"See, you are mad about something. Tell me what I did and I'll try and fix it—"

"You didn't do anything wrong." She said, but her voice cracked. It wasn't Jesse's fault, obviously, but she couldn't help but be a little resentful that he hadn't kept it in his pants for that one night in question…

"Beca, seriously, tell me what's going on. You can't hold stuff in. I can tell that something is bothering you, so spill."

He tried to take her hands, but she pulled them back to her lap.

"Nothing's wrong."

"You're lying. Look, this is heading in the explosion direction: you pretend that you're not upset, I annoy you until you tell me, you yell and push me away, I run after you and finally we figure things out. But wouldn't it be a lot less exhausting if you just communicated? And let me know when you're angry so that I can avoid making you mad in the first place? I can't read your mind, Beca."

Finally, she just burst out, "I'm fucking pregnant, Jesse, so there's nothing that you can do to make it better, okay? So just leave me alone!"

Jesse's face fell into an expression that was reminiscent of a fish choking on air. He seemed to start several sentences, only to continue to stare at her wide eyed. His gaze shifted from her face to her stomach (Beca crossed her arms and glared) and then back to her face.

"What?" He said stupidly.

"You heard me."

His mouth opened and closed several more times.

"Beca, how the hell would you think I could leave you alone? You're carrying my child—"

She winced. "Don't say it like that."

"Like what?"

"That I'm carrying your child."

"But you are—or at least you just told me that you are. And I really don't think this is something you would joke about. What's wrong with that?"

"It just sounds so—so archaic or something. Like we're in some cheesy romance movie. Like you own me."

"Okay, that makes absolutely no sense." Jesse said with an incredulous expression.

"It's like you're taking responsibility for me. Just because your seed met with my egg and did a little hokey pokey—"

Jesse sputtered, "Wait, you did not just compare the beautiful conception of a baby to a juvenile dancing routine."

"I did. And that's really not the point, is it?"

He shook his head. "You're right. Oh my god, you're pregnant. As in, there is a baby growing inside of you that will be born in nine months—"

"Six." Beca interjected automatically. She only knew this because the number had been rotating around in her frontal lobe every hour of the day.

"What?"

She mumbled. "In about six months, now."

Jesse's mouth tightened. "Let me get this straight: you waited almost two months to tell me something this important?"

"I wasn't really sure until recently, and… I didn't know how to tell you." She admitted.

"See, this is where that communication thing really helps."

"This isn't as easy as telling

"Nothing is easy with you."

"Well, I'm sorry that I'm so hard to deal with!"

"You know I don't mean it like that. I love you, so… oh my god, you're pregnant. Have you told your parents yet? Are you going to keep living in your dorm—are we getting married? Because if you want to get married, I'm totally down for it, Benji's got to be my best man… and we can have the Bellas perform… We'll have to pick an apartment in L.A that is a little more roomy, won't we? Oh god, what if it's a girl—everything's going to be covered in pink, my mom is going to have that covered... wait, is this why you didn't want chili fries anymore? What are we supposed to do if you go into labor, neither of us have a car… Have you gone to the hospital yet? Do you know if it's a boy or a girl? Will you be okay to go to the Acapella finals? Are you going to get a job in L.A? What about maternity leave?"

"It doesn't matter because I'm not keeping it." Beca snapped, and she felt her breath leave her with a whoosh. She really hadn't meant to say those words, but once they were out of her mouth, she couldn't exactly take them back. It was just so many questions, and she had no answers. Even contemplating the small things terrified her, and the fact that Jesse was considering them all, and wanting to be a part of the decision-making scared her even more. She wasn't used to having a partner in these things, but the moment that they'd conceived a baby together, Beca had known that she would be attached to Jesse in all things. And he'd just sounded so damn excited, because he obviously didn't realize what a wrench this had thrown into their future plans. If they brought a child into the world, their lives would never be the same.

Jesse stared back at her, horrified, as if she was some sort of monster. Beca felt her eyes sting from tears (damn these hormones!) and before Jesse could argue with her, she leapt off the bed and went to the hallway, slamming the door in his face. Two hot tears slipped through her lids, but she was more furious than anything. This was not how she'd planned on telling Jesse that he was possibly going to be a father. But then again, nothing had worked out the way she'd planned in a long time.

&.&.&.&.&.&

Sometimes, people could really surprise you.

When Beca got back to her dorm room, Kimmie Jin was waiting for her. Beca was much more clearheaded from her walk on campus, so returned her roommate's blank expression. She went to her desk and pulled her headphones over her ears, propping her feet up on the table. She drowned out her emotions in the best way she knew how.

After about a half hour, she was startled, and nearly fell out of her chair, by a tap on her shoulder. It was Kimmie Jin, poised over her and mouthing words.

"Holy shi—I swear, you're like a freaking ninja!" Beca gasped, tugging her headphones off.

"I said that my mother dropped off an herbal mix to soothe your stomach. Your morning sickness is bothering me. I've lost a total of eighty-three minutes of sleep from your frequent trips to the bathroom. Pour a little bit of this in your drink—tea, Gatorade, whatever—and it should help. It's a family recipe."

Beca was stunned, and took a small cloth sack from the Asian girl's outstretched fingers. "Kimmie Jin… I can't believe you would do something like this for me. That's so thoughtful." And the most words you've ever spoken to me at once.

She sniffed the bag, and only got a whiff of earthiness mixed with… ginger?

"It's not poisoned." Kimmie Jin deadpanned.

"I don't know what to say…" Beca said honestly.

"Then don't say anything. I'm trying to meditate, so try to keep your music down." The girl said, going to her bed covered in pristinely white sheets and assuming the criss-cross-applesauce position.

Suddenly feeling generous, Beca powered down her equipment and went to her bed, deciding it was as good a time as ever to catch up on some reading for history. After a few minutes, a sudden thought struck her.

"Hey, Kimmie Jin… does this mean you're my friend now?"

There was silence for so long that Beca wondered if her roommate had heard her at all. Then, finally:

"…No."