Summary: AU. Beca is a top CIA agent that gets captured by a psychopathic villain named 'The Doctor'. Beca would've killed her enemy on the spot if it wasn't for how gorgeous she was. Bechloe, Beca/Chloe. Staubrey, Stacie/Aubrey.
A/N: Long chapter guys, I think it's the longest one I've done so far. Also, shitty long backstory alert, tell me if you guys think it's good but I feel like it's a bit…weird. I don't know why, but I think it does. I'm proud of it, but still. Oh well. There isn't much Bechloe interaction in this chapter, it's more Jaubrey-orientated. However, in the next chapter it'll be almost completely Bechloe.
Nonetheless, I'm glad everyone's enjoying it and I'm so, so thankful for all the follows, favorites and reviews; they mean more then you'll ever know, believe me. There's a lot of undiscovered mysteries in this story with a lot of the characters, so don't think it's over any time soon! Only, I'll be back at school in a couple of weeks, so updates will be less frequent. I'm trying to do as much as possible within the summer holidays, so I apologize if the chapters seem a little rushed. Anyhow, enjoy chapter nine!
Falling for the Enemy
Chapter Nine
"You…were in the same position as me?" Jesse repeated. Aubrey nodded, darting her tearful eyes towards the cold, hard, marble flooring, "W-What? I mean…you're Chloe's assistant, her right-hand woman. I'm sorry, but…I don't understand. I don't know if it's the injuries affecting me, but I'm…I'm really, really confused."
"Then allow me to explain," Aubrey sniffled immensely, taking a large gulp of the lump forming in the back of her throat, "I don't know why I'm telling you of all people this, but I've never got it off my chest before; I think it's about time I did," Jesse blinked, a blank expression etched upon his features. Aubrey exhaled deeply, before continuing, "Okay…I was a senior at college, aged twenty…I'd barely started the year, continuing my final year in the three-year course in the law field. As a side option, I opted to study medics and took an interest in it; that's when I met her. Chloe was also a senior, taking identical subjects to myself apart from law. I hadn't known her in freshman year, you see. But, instead of taking law, she'd taken biology. We were lab partners throughout the whole year, Chloe willingly sitting next to me in class and during lectures. We'd even ended up becoming roommates down at the dormitories. At the time I hadn't thought anything of it; she was nice, polite and smart. Everything you'd expect in a good friend."
"So…what happened?" Jesse questioned, curious and itching to uncover more; maybe he'd use Aubrey's past with Chloe against the redhead once he'd managed to escape.
Aubrey's mood darkened significantly. She took a pause, another deep breath, and continued, "We were at a graduation college party, two months following our finals. I'd graduated at the time, so had Chloe. It was hosted by one of the popular, good-looking guys on the Football team. He wasn't a dick, though. He wasn't like the others. Tom, he…he was charming, friendly, goofy and totally quirky. Because I hadn't seen some of my friends in South Carolina since August, I asked Tom if it was okay to invite them. Surprisingly, he was fine with it, even encouraging me to go ahead with it. But Chloe…once Chloe found out, she fell into a jealous rage. She didn't like the fact that I had other friends apart from her, especially ones she'd never met. And she was so jealous of Tom, I think she thought I'd fallen for him or something. It was so scary, Jesse. Scarier than anything I'd ever witnessed before. Chloe tore up all my text books, flushed my phone down the toilet, rigged my shower with sewage water, smashed my…head against the wall. I was like her 'play toy' whenever she was frustrated, stressed or just plain bored. And she didn't stop there, either."
"One time, she'd even gone to the extent of publicly insulting me. She'd stolen a megaphone from one of cheerleaders and shouted all kinds of abuse, all across campus. Even personal secrets I'd shared with her; she was my best friend, and I thought I could trust her. She'd promised me not to say a word, and yet she still did. I was too scared to do anything about it, to confide in anybody and to stick up to her. I couldn't understand why she was so jealous that I'd had other people. Sure, everybody gets a little envious of somebody else, but Chloe's was off the Richter scale. Literally. Weeks then passed of this torment, gradually leading up to the party. She'd kick my ribs in, scream in my face and slap me. Hard. Every. Fucking. Day. I couldn't take it anymore, I confided in Tom and a few of his jock friends on the day of the party. Tom didn't take it lightly. He'd headed to my dorm, Chloe was back there studying. And…he beat her to a pulp, being the far stronger one. Chloe was black and blue by the time Tom had finished with her, not even considering the 'gentleman's word of bullshit in terms of a treatment of women'. But she deserved it. Tom wasn't my boyfriend, but he was my saviour…until the night of the party."
Jesse stayed silent. Aubrey took this as her cue to resume telling her story, "My childhood friends from South Carolina had flown in hours before. We'd met up at the airport and I'd drove them down to the college campus. The exterior and interior of the Football players' common room was decorated beautifully; gleaming, bright neon lights were hung up on the roof, drain pipes, almost anywhere you could imagine. Tom and his teammates stood at the entrance, greeting those they'd invited at the front door. We'd entered the house, Tom introducing himself to my friends. I privately thanked Tom, for what he'd done earlier on. I knew he'd beat up Chloe, but I didn't know how badly. Not thinking much of it at the time, I headed inside and - for once in many months - decided to enjoy myself. Everybody drank, laughed and danced. It lasted until two o'clock in the morning, most either too drunk to function or had passed out from the alcohol they'd consumed. I was the most sober of the two-hundred people, a little tipsy but still remaining conscious. Me and Tom were alone, talking in the bathroom. He too was a bit drunk, swaying around and stumbling over his feet. Only by accident had we kissed, he'd fallen over himself and latched his lips on mine. I kissed back…but I didn't like it; I could smell alcohol on his breath. It wasn't a pleasant experience, Jesse. But…what'd happened seconds after shook me to the core."
"We heard a gunshot outside, immediately pulling apart. Screaming followed seconds later. The bathroom door was kicked down, revealing a horrifically bruised, beaten Chloe. She'd held a gun, God knows how she'd received a gun license considering her emotional stability. In a way I felt bad for how Tom had left her, but I was too scared and panicked to think straight at the time. Tom backed down into the bathtub, shaking in fear. He couldn't defend himself this time. All Chloe did was laugh; she'd laugh until she ran out of air to breathe. Her manic laughing still haunts me today. And then…then she'd shot Tom right t-through his…h-head. I don't know why, even now I don't; I've never built up the courage to discuss the incident with her…anyway, I-I screamed and tried to run away, but Tom's body collapsed on top of me. I fell back and smacked my head against the toilet seat, I must've been knocked out cold for a good couple of days. I'm not one-hundred percent sure what happened after that, apart from how three out of my five friends were gunned dead in broad moonlight. And I couldn't do anything about it."
Jesse was about to utter some words of comfort, but Aubrey was far from finished, "I woke up in the hospital, apparently I'd been in a week-long coma, regaining awareness several days following the incident. My memory was hazed and fuzzy, though the loud 'bang' of the gun ricocheting through my mind. My parents were there, holding my hands the entire time. Police waited until I was completely aware; they entered the room and bombarded me with questions. Questions about the murder, questions about the murderer, I can't exactly remember. I broke down in tears reflecting back on the demise of Tom and my friends, Tom's dead, bleeding body collapsing on top of my own. God, I fucking hated Chloe. I wanted to kill her with my bare hands! She killed four of the people I loved just because I wouldn't dedicate my time solely to her. When I was released from hospital, the funerals took place a week later. I vowed on their graves I'd avenge them, that the police would capture Chloe. Unfortunately…they never did."
"She completely disappeared without a trace, somehow managing to leave zero trace of her fingerprints. The whole thing screwed me up badly; I developed Post-traumatic stress disorder, constantly replaying Tom's death in my mind. I wanted to make Chloe suffer, I just wanted to fucking kill her for what she'd done. My mom became stressed out from my illness and became unwell herself, she's still being looked after in hospital today. Now she'd brought family into it, that only fuelled my drive for revenge. When I was mentally stable enough to roam the streets on my own, I decided to take action. I'd remembered Chloe was going to move back to Cleveland following her graduation, it's where her family's from. I stayed in a mental hospital in Boston, so it was a little far considering I wasn't able to drive properly. But I made the effort. My hatred for Chloe only grew as I drove across each state, my determination to avenge those dearest overpowering any sense of judgement I'd had. I saw her almost instantly, wandering around the streets as if she'd done nothing wrong. I decided to park in a nearby turning and stalk her. She'd wandered into an old, abandoned house after unlocking the doors. I followed her trail, keep a kitchen knife pressed against my hoodie. Before I was able to ring the doorbell, Chloe opened the door and practically dragged me inside."
"She knew I'd been following her, she'd expected me at one point or another. Everything I'd built up over the previous months had long dispersed, my anger replaced by fear; I was a coward, Jesse. I still am. I caved in, loosing my mind. I got down on my knees and begged, not knowing myself what the fuck I was doing. Here I was, pretending to myself that I'd actually built the courage to face her…let alone kill her. Chloe laughed long and hard, grabbing a fist full of my hair. She's a lot stronger than me, I'll give her credit for that. She'd managed to steal the knife out of my hoodie, having developed the 'slight of hand' skill that actual doctors often had. Pressing the razor-sharp blade against my neck, she said, 'It's all your fault, Posen. All I wanted was a friend. I thought you were a friend, until you'd ditched me for those pathetic popular kids.' I told her that wasn't the truth in the slightest, though I'd instantly regretted it; she threw me against the floor with such an incredible, immense power, successfully shooting a tranquilizer dart in my neck."
"Yes, I know. It's very much what herself and Lily had done to you. She's had the same old tricks up her sleeve these past eight years. That's how long I've worked for her. But it was forced upon me, I didn't have a choice. She…she'd beat me up on a daily basis because I refused to listen to her. I wanted to go home, to pretend she'd never existed, to be in the waiting arms of my father. But I didn't. Eventually, after months of beatings, I gave in to what Chloe wanted; to be her sick, little sidekick. That's all she wanted, to work by my side. Apparently she'd intended on that since the moment we'd met in the lab, thinking I'd be a promising assistant. And I've done it ever since. I haven't looked back on my previous life, it hardly affects me now. You could say, in a way, being in Chloe's company for so long has made me less considering and compassionate. And it's true. My dead friends? Long forgotten. Chloe manipulated me, using money as a significant tactic. I've always being materialistic, Jesse; I loved getting new gadgets each Christmas, never being satisfied with what I had. And Chloe…well, Chloe was offering me money beyond those wealthiest on the cover of Forbes magazine. I've been incredibly sucked into it all over the years, it's consumed me. I've never looked back on my past with Chloe and what she's done, I'm too much of a pussy to do that. The PTSD's still there, I get occasional panic attacks from time to time, but it's hardly anything severe. See, I can't face up to what's happened, Jesse. It's painful. That's why my attacks aren't that bad. But as far as I'm concerned now, I'm Chloe's assistant; I'm no longer Aubrey Posen. I'm The Nurse."
"So, how's the food? Exquisite, isn't it?" Chloe forked her spaghetti bolognese, taking immense care when consuming the long, thin pasta pieces. She hadn't wished for any tomato sauce to remain around her mouth. She grinned at the tiny agent in mild amusement, watching the brunette struggling to twirl it around her own fork, "Beca, sweetheart; shove it deep into the spaghetti and spin it around, the spaghetti should coil up on the fork."
"Oh, right," Beca did as Chloe suggested, "Hey, it works!" Pleased with herself, she shoved the fork full of spaghetti into her mouth. As she chewed aloud, she emitted a hum of grave satisfaction, "It really is exquisite, Doc. Honestly, your cook's amazing." As Chloe was informed by Donald that 'Aubrey was preoccupied with Swanson', she herself had decided to walk Beca to the dining area. And Beca very much enjoyed it. She'd become a little sweaty from being just millimetres away from Chloe's plump, large cleavage.
"Doc?" Chloe repeated, sipping her glass of white wine. She giggled and kept the rim of the glass close to her lips, a little of the sparkling pink lip gloss sticking to the outside. Beca shrugged, grinning lopsidedly, "Awh, my muchkin. You're such a goofball." The redhead blew Beca a kiss and winked, smirking provocatively.
Beca blushed wildly and fiddled with the neck of her top, bunching up the slightly damp material, "T-Thanks?" It was more of a statement than a question, although the brunette had made it sound as though she needed some reassurance.
"You're welcome, munchkin," Chloe winked once more, "I think we should spend more time together, you're quite…different from anybody else I've encountered, Beca. You're a CIA agent who's sensible, resourceful and knows how to abide by the rules. It's impressive. Not to mention your…quirkiness and originality, I like that. I like that a lot. Three days ago, I predicted we'd be fast friends. And I was right. Do you consider us as friends?" She grinned hopefully, seeming as though she wouldn't take 'no' for an answer.
"Yeah, I do," Beca smiled softly, her thoughts clouded by the dirty, naughty things she could do to Chloe, "I really do."