A/N: Sooo, I actually have a good reason for my delay this time, in that I decided to complete the rest of the fic before I updated next (and also real life intervened, but who cares about that)? As such, JLG is more or less complete - there'll be two more chapters after this one providing nothing goes wrong. There will possibly (most likely) be an epilogue but we'll see.
In any case, thanks for supporting this fic guys. It's been unexpectedly difficult at times, but I'm glad I stuck it out. I hope it's at least slightly worth the wait.
Beca never looks back over her shoulder as she marches purposefully away, which you're glad for; despite your attempts to tread lightly, your teeth chattering in the night-time chill doesn't exactly make the silent approach easy. You still make an effort to duck away when you think she might suddenly notice your presence, darting from tree to tree as though you're in some kind of (incredibly dull) action movie. Still, however, she never notices. You perhaps need to have a talk with her about being more aware of her surroundings when walking in a darkened wood, because really. You could be anyone.
Thankfully, Beca doesn't walk for long; barely a few minutes away from the tent, she comes to a sudden stop. You dart behind a nearby tree trunk to watch as she too leans against a tree. You see her bend over and her shoulders rise and fall rapidly for a moment – catching her breath – and she lets out a loud, frustrated groan. There's even a little foot stomping involved.
It's a rather cute little display, all things considered. Like a puppy having a small tantrum. Under any other circumstances you might just stand and watch her for a while, but the cold is starting to seep through your admittedly already thin layers, to the point where even the tent is starting to feel preferable to being out here right now.
'I'm glad you didn't go any further.' You try to keep your voice quiet in order not to scare her. Despite this Beca lets out a little squeak of fright, showing how wrapped up in her thoughts she was. She tries to play it off though, turning it into a cough as she runs a hand through her rumpled hair. 'Didn't you hear what Aubrey said about bear traps?'
She doesn't look any more relaxed when she realises who has been following her. If anything, Beca seems more stressed and tense, if her hunched shoulders are any indication. 'You need to wear a bell, I swear,' she says, teeth gritted. 'What are you doing out here?'
'I could ask you the same. I got worried when you left without telling anyone.' Much as you want to move closer, she seems ready to run at any second. Her gaze keeps flicking to what you assume is the campsite behind you, and not a vicious axe murderer creeping up. You try not to linger on that thought. Being out here is creepy enough already. 'Can't sleep?'
'No…' replies Beca, then after a moment, 'yeah. Something like that.'
'Why not?'
'Sleeping pressed up against a load of other girls isn't exactly my idea of a good night.'
'That's funny, because it's mine,' you say, smiling. Beca lets out a small, bored "ha", barely even trying to sound amused. She presses her back against the tree, pulling her shirt out in an attempt to make it cover more of her body; this has the added effect of pulling the material taut against her chest. 'Should we go back? It's freezing out here… Although, maybe you already know that,' you say.
Beca seems confused for a moment, but you give a little pointed nod and the barest hint of a smirk and she works it out quickly. 'Very funny,' Beca says, rolling her eyes when she sees where you're looking. She crosses her arms self-consciously over herself. 'Of course you would notice something like that, you pervert.'
'I'm an observant woman,' you reply indignantly.
'Pervert.'
'I like to take in all details around me. Especially about you. It's my artist's mind.'
'Pervert,' Beca insists, with a slight smile. It doesn't last long, however, before it slides off her face. She slumps, rubbing her eyes.
'Tired?' you ask. Beca makes a non-committal noise. 'Stressed? You know, that backrub offer is still always there if you want it.' You're (half) joking, expecting another pervert comment. But to your surprise, she actually seems to be considering it. 'Seriously?'
'Mm. I dunno, I'm a little…' She tilts her head back to peer at you through the darkness. 'It's been a long day.'
She sounds incredibly weary. You can certainly sympathise. 'Do you want to talk about it?'
Beca scuffs her shoe along the floor, kicking up leaves and dirt. 'Well, we could, but I'm not sure you'd really listen,' she says sullenly. Her sudden moodiness surprises you; raising a questioning eyebrow doesn't get you anywhere, because she just meets your look with a defiant one of her own. She starts to put her hands in her pockets - then she realises her pyjamas have none and instead folds her arms again, gripping her own forearms tight.
'Do you want to tell me why you just went all Sulky Beca on me?'
It's meant to be light-hearted but it has the opposite effect. 'I'm not sulking,' Beca responds tightly. 'I'm just pissed off. And I think I have a right to be, so can you not minimise it like that by saying I'm "sulking"?'
'Whoa,' you say, taken aback by the venom in her voice. 'Alright, I'm sorry. Tell me why you're pissed off.'
Beca scoffs. 'I want to but it's just gonna lead to another argument. And we've been fighting so much already - and I'm tired of it. Normally we can talk about anything with each other, but right now there's all this tension. It's ridiculous.'
'It's harder when the issue we have to discuss is us,' you agree.
'Why does it have to be hard, though? It seems like a bad omen,' she replies, frowning up at you. 'Jesse and I seemed to argue a lot towards the end, and we know how that went.'
You can understand that worry, but the thought of being compared to Jesse irritates you still. 'I'm not him,' you reply. 'Just because things happened with him, it doesn't mean they will with me.' She mumbles that she knows that, but still seems troubled. 'Hey…' You tip your head back quickly, signalling her to come closer to you. 'Come here.'
'Why?'
'Do I have to give a reason to want to be close to you?' you say.
'It's you,' Beca replies, narrowing her eyes. 'So yes.'
'If you must know, it's really cold. I say we hug to conserve body warmth.'
'I don't know if I trust the look in your eye,' she says; but all the same, she steps forward cautiously until she's in arms reach of you. You take her wrists and place her hands on your hips. It's so cold, and Beca's so warm – odd, because normally she's the one who's like touching an ice cube. This time, the contrast between your freezing skin and her hands sends more goosebumps up your arms and a rippling tingle down your leg.
Beca blinks when you take her face between your palms and kiss away the furrow in her brow. 'See? I knew I shouldn't have trusted you. Talk about taking advantage.'
'I'm comforting you, not taking advantage,' you protest.
'Yeah yeah, Beale. I know you always have ulterior motives.' Even so you can feel the walls she has up tonight starting to fall down again. Which is good, because you really would like to go back to bed. More kisses are placed, getting closer and closer to her mouth; she seems to be enjoying them until you're actually about to kiss her. She turns her head at the last moment. 'Okay now, we probably shouldn't do that.' Even you know it's a weak statement when you can already feel her skin growing hotter through her shirt.
'Why not?'
'Chloe…' She squirms. 'I know what you're doing. You're literally just trying to distract me right now.'
'Is it working?'
'N…' Beca trails off abruptly and shivers, when your fingertips graze her cheeks and the corners of her mouth. 'Chlo, stop that.' She takes a little step back, suddenly looking irritated. 'I'm trying to speak to you here.'
'I'm not stopping you. I'm just trying to calm you down, because you're super tense.'
'Oh, and of course that's the way you decide to do it?' She snorts. 'And I thought I was bad at communicating. You get on my case all the time about bottling stuff up, but you're ten times worse if you ask me.'
Her scathing tone makes you bristle. 'Oh, don't pretend like there aren't things you've been hiding from me, even now,' you respond briskly, already tired of what feels like the tenth time you've tried to bring this up with her. 'I'll let you have your secrets if you let me have mine.'
You know you have her when she scrunches up her face. 'Whatever,' she replies finally, and you laugh derisively at this lame reply. 'We could have an honest conversation about all this shit if you'd just stop shutting me down. And gee, I wonder why you keep doing that? Oh wait, I know,' she says. She raises her chin, tapping a finger on it in mock-contemplation. 'Because deep down you're scared.'
This comment is jarring and seems to come from left field in this particular conversation. However, you can tell from the way Beca has her fists clenched, that it's something that's been building up in her head, and it's all just waiting to come out now. You sigh, resigned to this argument occurring in the middle of the night, in some freezing woods while you're only dressed in thin pajamas. You wish you'd known Beca was going to be like this, because you'd at least worn a few extra sweaters.
'Fine. I'll bite. What am I scared of, again?'
Everything, pipes up a small insecure voice in your head. You quickly squash that down, but Beca seems to have gained mindreading powers and echoes it out loud. 'Everything,' she says. 'And you don't want anyone to know. You're scared of people finding out you don't have a clue what you're doing. With the Bellas, with graduation… You just keep avoiding it, hoping if you put your head in the sand, it'll go away.' She laughs derisively. 'It's pretty hypocritical for you to have been on my case about avoiding my feelings for you, when you're running away from this massive problem.'
Unfortunately for both you and Beca, any hope you had of responding coherently has fled your mind. All you can hear in your brain currently is a dull buzzing sound, in place of actual thoughts. She waits impatiently as the cogs turn and click into place in your brain, as you desperately try to come up with some sort of useful response.
'C'mon, she says, when you take too long. 'Just talk to me. I don't think I'm that bad of a listener, so you might as well stop closing off.' She hesitates, making a face. 'God, you're literally becoming me. That's terrifying in itself, huh?'
Your legs suddenly feel incapable of holding your weight; you sink against the tree, trying to take a breath to try and calm yourself. Beca steps closer, placing a hand on your shoulder. 'Huh,' she comments. 'That shade of pale is not a good look for you. Are you okay? Please don't vomit on me.'
'It's fine.' Your voice is oddly robotic, completely devoid of emotion. Maybe that's because inside your head, your emotions are running in circles and crashing into each other. 'It's fine.'
She squints at you. 'Was I too harsh on you? Like, I'm sorry if so. I just want to help you.'
'It's fine.'
'You know, oddly, the more you say it's fine, the less I believe you.'
'Beca,' you say, half hyperventilating at this point, 'just – shut up, okay?'
She scowls, affronted. 'Chloe, you can't just -'
You kiss her then, nearly stumbling over your feet when you lunge for her. There's something oddly satisfying about cutting Beca off in the middle of speech, and you're beginning to understand why she's done it to you previously. You just want all this to stop as well; you want your mind to stop. Your teeth sink into Beca's bottom lip; her groan seems too loud in the quiet, even with your joined mouths muffling the noises she's making.
You shove her down to the ground, and then rather unceremoniously onto her back as you scramble to straddle her thighs. The ground underneath scratches at your knees and legs but it feels so far away from your consciousness when your teeth are sinking into her neck. 'No,' she hisses, flinching away with what seems like great reluctance. 'Dude, that's trashy.'
You almost feel like you should be offended. 'Excuse me?' you say, giving her an extra hard nip as revenge.
'I didn't say you were trashy, I meant- jeez, you're so frustrating,' she breathes against you, into you, between kisses up her neck. 'I know exactly what you're doing. And I hate that this is working on me, you asshole.'
She reaches between your bodies and pushes on your forehead until you're forced backwards; she then flips you both over so you're now on your back. 'You need to stop,' Beca demands. Her chest is expanding and collapsing rapidly with her laboured breaths as she glares down at you. 'You're trying to distract me. I know you don't want to talk about it, but you need to stop doing this.'
'That's pretty hypocritical, coming from you.'
That makes her falter. She sighs. 'I just want,' she says, 'all this drama between us to just disappear. I want to be able to do thisand not have to worry about all the other shit.' There's her hand at your hip, pushing your shirt up. It's half trapped beneath you so she can only get it as far as your bellybutton but her touch snakes underneath anyway. A wave of sensation is spreading outwards from her fingers, hot and cold all at once.
'I want you,' she says sadly, 'but all of this stuff is making it really difficult to deal with that.'
You ache to soothe that note of sadness in her voice, and the pang of sadness in your own chest. You can feel it building within you. The words, which you desperately do not want to say. But they won't stop coming, and any moment now you're probably going to ruin everything that you've worked so hard to build. Sweat breaks out over your back in your desperation and panic.
You wish you could muffle the words as they start emerging from your mouth by kissing her; she evades all further attempts, now just staring down at you. Waiting. The silence is oppressively tense, yet it's offering a willing podium for your thoughts at the moment. Try as you might, you can't squash it down this time, because a part of you wants to know how she'd respond to this. To what you really want and have been holding back all this time because of how selfish it feels to voice it even to yourself. Because how could you ask this of her?
But it's night time and dark and this day has been so, so long. You're tired of worrying about what Beca wants more than what you want. Maybe this one time you can let yourself have something without guilt or worry about the consequences, whether that be Jesse finding out, or losing Beca as a friend, or losing the Bellas. Maybe it'd be okay just to share this one thing, for once.
'Stay with me,' you say. Your voice cracks right in the middle of that simple sentence, and all the way through those following it. 'Stay in Barden; don't go to L.A. Don't go anywhere. I don't want you to leave me.'
…
…
…
Your mind seems to go blank as you wait for Beca's response. It seems, to you, to take forever, and all the while your blood is thundering in your ears.
'… What?'
The word is whispered, only just audible over the sound of ragged breathing. But it still cuts right through you. That note of incredulity in her voice was plainly obvious even at the low volume.
'Chloe...' She swallows, sits back on her heels. 'I can't do that.'
Beca opens her mouth to say something, again. This time, you don't want to hear it; you sit up and kiss her once more, knowing what the words are going to be anyway. Explanations. It's not the "yes" you wanted to hear, so frankly, you aren't interested. You can't hear anymore.
However, the sharp screech of a whistle cuts off whatever Beca was about to say; you feel her leg muscles tense in alarm on either side of your hips. Suddenly, there's a light shining in your eyes and the unmistakable sounds of a dog panting in your ear. Beca scrambles off you as you, dazed and confused, try to sit and work out what the hell is going on.
The two of you look up to see a man, dressed in the same uniform as Aubrey, glaring down at the two of you.
Beca mutters, 'You've got to be fucking kidding me,' and you can only concur.
'I feel like I'm waiting to see the principal,' Beca says. She looks so tired in the poor gas lamp lighting in this room, with dark smudges under her eyelids and her pyjamas hanging loosely from her frame. There are scratches up and down her arms from where the rough ground rubbed against her. You shiver at the thought. 'Although my principal's office was never this fancy.'
"Fancy" is not quite the word you'd use to describe this place – "tacky" would be more your style. It seems as though whoever decorated this room really wanted to get the cabin-in-the-woods look down, but didn't quite have all the right ingredients, if the badly stuffed animal heads mounting the walls are anything to go by. The effect is altogether quite unsettling; briefly you wonder how Aubrey could have ever allowed such awful décor - but considering what you've seen of the company's modus operandi so far, maybe that's not too surprising.
'What do you think they're gonna do to us?' Beca asks. 'Detention? Expulsion?'
You know she's joking, but you are worried all the same. Not because you think Aubrey is somehow going to give you detention (although Beca's sarcasm in serious situations is as always, rather annoying), but because is likely to figure out the situation between you and Beca within seconds.
Beca clears her throat, leaning back against the backrest as she glances over at you. Her leg is bouncing nervously. 'What's wrong?'
'Nothing.'
'Oh, I see. So we're playing the "guess why Chloe's mad at me" game, huh.'
'I'm not mad.'
'The steam coming out of your ears says differently.' She waits, but you don't laugh. 'You're mad because of before, aren't you. When you asked me to stay here?' You don't respond to this either, even though you know she'll take it as a tacit yes. As expected, she does; Beca groans incredulously. 'Chloe, you can't be serious. I'm not staying here. And nor are you, for that matter.'
'I'm not talking about this right now. It's late.'
'Then when are you going to talk about it?' She grabs your shoulder, forcing you to face her.
You try your best to keep your voice steady, despite the fact you avoid her gaze in order to do so. 'I've said what I wanted to already, Beca.'
Her eyes widen. 'So that was serious? Chlo, you're starting to scare me. Whenever I bring stuff up you shut it down somehow. I thought you were just kind of unsure about things, but you can't actually want to stay in Barden, and for me to stay too… Right?' she adds worriedly, when your agreement isn't immediate.
You're only just keeping it together, and feel like if you make eye contact you're just going to burst into tears. 'I don't have anywhere else to go, Beca.'
Her grip tightens on your shoulder. 'That's bull!' she snarls, with enough anger in her voice that you do actually turn to look at her in shock. 'You could do anything, Chloe. Anything. Why are you wasting your life here when you have so much freaking potential?'
'It is my life, Beca! I don't have anything else. That's the whole point.'
The door bangs open; Aubrey enters, looking thoroughly irritated. Beca frowns at you, but lets you go, and you do your best to wipe your eyes before Aubrey notices and starts questioning you.
'James just woke me up to tell me that two members of my team were "trying to escape".' Aubrey's eyes travel over the both of you, taking in your mussed clothing and hair. Her lips tighten into a thin line. 'Something tells me he may have misinterpreted the situation.'
'"Escape"?' Beca says, with a spluttered laugh. 'Is this actually prison? I could walk out any time I want.'
'Safety first, Beca,' replies Aubrey briskly. 'We have to know your whereabouts in case you get caught in the bear traps. And yes, you could walk out if you wanted, but you're an awful long way away from Barden.' She settles down on a chair, crossing her legs. 'Chlo, I did tell you,' Aubrey chides you gently, 'sex only in the designated areas.'
Your eyes widen. 'You were serious about that?'
Beca's head snaps up. 'Wait, what? How did that come up in conversation?'
'Never mind that,' says Aubrey, much to your relief. 'A better question is why you guys were out there in the first place.'
'Are you seriously interrogating us about this?' Beca folds her arms in a disgruntled manner, sitting back in her seat. 'Prison. I swear.'
'I prefer to think of it as a facilitation centre. But call it aca-school, if you want,' says Aubrey, smiling.
'No. I'm not gonna call it that.'
Aubrey shrugs. 'Whatever helps you sleep at night, Mitchell. In the meantime, I'd quite like an explanation.' You drop your head into your hands; your mind is swimming with tiredness and you barely feel like you know what's going on this conversation right now.
'Why do we have to explain anything to you?' snaps Beca.
Beca's tone seems to touch a nerve with Aubrey. 'Because I don't like the look of my best friend's face right now, Beca, and I strongly suspect it has something to do with you,' Aubrey says, obviously speaking from between gritted teeth. You peek upwards, seeing Beca glancing sideways at you; your face is impassive, but you know that says as much as any other expression. However, you can't let yourself feel anything right now or you'll completely lose it.
'Ask her, not me,' grouches Beca, pointing at you.
Aubrey's hand touches your knee. 'Chloe?' asks Aubrey gently. 'What's wrong? What's going on?'
You feel like you can't breathe; it's as though you're on the cusp of something big, but you can't quite pinpoint what that is or what is going to happen when you reach there. Their stares are heavy on you, wanting you to speak, but all you can think of is the look of incredulity on Beca's face when you asked her to stay.
Beca uncrosses her legs, foot hitting the wooden floor with a thump. 'Well, as fun as this awkward silence is, I'm going to go back to bed.'
'Hey, what makes you think I'm done with you?' Aubrey snaps, but you cover her hand with your own.
'It's alright, Aubrey.' You signal with your eyes that she shouldn't question it anymore, and to your relief Aubrey just nods stiffly after a moment's reading your expression.
'Last chance to be a grown up, Chlo,' says Beca, getting to her feet. She stands over you, imposing despite her short stature – her gaze hardened.
It's not like you don't want to discuss this issue with Beca. Because you do. But even just revealing that small part of your desire to Beca – that you don't want her to leave, and wish she could stay with you – has backfired horribly. What she wants and what you want are so unlikely to ever coincide. And it's difficult, too, with Aubrey sitting right there, watching this all go on - her life so together compared to yours, despite starting off in the same way, and in the same place. You're the one that's lagged behind and not been able to catch up. You're the one that can't move on.
You can ignore all this all you want, but doing that is rapidly starting to blow up in your face. Both she and Beca know what path they want to head down, and you don't know if that necessarily involves you. That's the size of the situation.
Fuck. You can feel yourself welling up and the lump rising in your throat. In an effort to hide this you stare down at your lap; you hear Beca scoff derisively. 'Fine,' she says. 'Then if you don't mind, I'm going back to bed.'
Beca leaves with barely a backwards glance at you, shutting the door behind her with enough force to make you wince. Aubrey murmurs disapprovingly at this before moving her gaze to you. 'Now,' she says. 'Would you like to explain to me what's going on?' You shake your head silently, and Aubrey groans. 'What are you doing, Chloe?'
'I'm not doing anything.'
Aubrey snorts. 'Oh yes, I believe that. Did I not tell you to be careful?' Her tone is scolding, patronising, even - as though you were a small child who messed up at school. You wonder if this is how Aubrey's father talks to her. 'Don't you remember what happened to Janice and Tabitha back in sophomore year? There was anarchy when they broke up and each wanted custody of their pet cat! I told you, dating your Bella sisters can only lead to misfortune.'
'It's not like she's going to be my "Bella sister" for much longer, is it?' you say bitterly. 'She's leaving. Me and Barden.'
'… And naturally, you hate that,' Aubrey says, the realisation appearing to dawn on her face. 'Are your feelings for her that strong? Have you fallen for her?' You wince, and Aubrey sighs in understanding. 'Or… Don't tell me you're in love with her…?' It's more of a command than a question; you can't exactly lie to her, but neither can you tell her the truth. The way she sucks in a breath at your lack of response is not particularly comforting, either. 'Well then. That's certainly… difficult,' she replies awkwardly. 'But not to worry, I'm sure it can be managed.'
'Managed? I don't want it to be managed,' you say, picking moodily at a loose thread on your pajamas. 'That sounds like it's something bad I need to keep under wraps. I don't want it to be managed; I want it to be easy.'
'And what does Beca want?'
'She wants that too… I think,' you reply. 'But she doesn't want to stay in Barden.'
'Why do you sound so surprised about that? I'd thought that Beca was always quite clear about where she wanted to go, and what she wanted to do.'
'Honestly, I'm not surprised at all. It was a long shot in the dark asking her to stay in the first place – I never thought she'd say yes, but…' You sigh. 'It still majorly sucks that she said no.'
'I know, darling.' Aubrey slips her arm around your shoulders and gives you a quick hug. 'But eventually you're just going to have to let go of that idea and work out something new with her. Eventually, you're going to have to let go of Barden, and the Bellas. You can't keep holding onto this. Time's running out.'
Time's running out, she says – like you're not already aware of every second that ticks by leading towards graduation and the Worlds. Towards Beca leaving you. It lingers in the back of your mind like some demonic countdown; a voice screaming at you to hold on tight to what you have left still. Because pretty soon, none of it will exist anymore.
You get to your feet; your legs feel like they'll barely carry you back to the tent. Aubrey seizes you before you can get too far. 'Is it Chloe-walking-out-time now too?' she barks, a hint of the old Bellas captain coming through. But you're too tired to be bossed around tonight.
'I need to go to bed,' you reply in the most measured tone you can, even as you yank your wrist out of her grip. 'And you should too - we have a long day ahead of us tomorrow if we're going to get the Bellas to top form again, no?'
'I'm not sure if you've noticed Chloe, but this might be a bigger issue than just the Bellas.' She puts her hand to her forehead, silently praying for strength. 'God, this is going to be a mess tomorrow, I can see. You're so stubborn.'
'So is Beca,' you reply, already opening the door to the cabin. 'But in that case, we'll just have to see who'll crack first.'
