A/N: So here we are, final chapter! Pretty sure an epilogue will happen, but it's not quite finished yet - it's a tying up loose ends thing. Can't say when it'll be done, but hopefully soon c:

You know Beca is going to come eventually - it's only a matter of when. In the end you get a glorious fifteen minutes lying in silence with Aubrey, so at least you've had some time to reset yourself, and stop feeling like the whole world is spinning around you. She's had nothing more to say, only stroking your hair in an attempt at comfort, while you stare at the tent ceiling and fight back the burn of tears.

You wonder whether she's going to get in trouble for not working - she insists it's 'technically part of her job', which seems like shaky reasoning. Nonetheless, you're glad for her presence. Just thinking of yet another argument with Beca kicking off when she inevitably arrives makes your skin crawl. If Aubrey wasn't here to stop you, you might have tried to pull a Beca and run away from the campsite. Maybe you could steal the bus? You don't actually have a licence yet, but it can't be that hard, surely...

When the sound of the tent unzipping eventually comes, your breath catches and Aubrey's grip tightens on you - but it's just Emily. You're simultaneously disappointed and relieved.

'What now?' says Aubrey, aggravated.

Emily goes pink, still unused to Aubrey's commanding tone. 'Sorry to bother you,' she all but squeaks, 'but the Bellas told me to deliver this.'

You turn, curious about what she could possibly be delivering. Emily disappears for a moment; you hear rustling and raised voices, and after a moment, Beca flies through the opening of the tent, caught in the netting of the bear trap.

'Jesus Christ!' Beca yells. It loses some of its impact considering she's currently faceplanting the floor of the tent. 'Was this really fucking necessary?!'

Aubrey looks like she's trying not to laugh. 'You tied her up?'

Emily pops her head back in and makes a concerned face when she sees the position Beca is in. 'No,' replies Emily, sheepishly rolling Beca onto her back and starting to disentangle her from the netting. 'Lilly fashioned a lasso out of the netting; Amy just threw it over her and we carried her over here.'

'And she fought us the whole way,' you hear Amy say from outside, sounding petulant. 'She's a real bruiser, that one.'

'I was already on my way here,' Beca grumbles, shoving the final tangles of netting off her body and rolling away from it. 'You didn't need to kidnap me. Also, twice in one day? Not cool, guys.'

'Seems they were just speeding up the process,' says Aubrey. 'You do have a tendency to dawdle.'

'I was giving her time. I thought that was what I was supposed to do?'

'Yes,' says Aubrey, 'but I did think you'd try to stick your nose in sooner. To be honest, I'm almost impressed with your restraint.'

You're not sure when you bought a ticket to the Aubrey and Beca Show, but right now you wish you were watching anything else. Emily seems to feel the same way: she mumbles, 'That's my cue to go then.' You give her a grateful smile, which she returns as she ducks back out of the tent.

Beca shakes her head. 'Whatever,' she says. 'I have no idea why you're angry at me, Aubrey - I'm here to talk to Chloe, not you.' In all the commotion Beca's hair has fallen from the bun she had it in earlier; it swings, straggly and unbrushed, as she crawls to a safe position in the tent. And then instead of sitting neatly with her legs neatly folded beneath her like Aubrey, she sprawls her legs out in front of her. They're such different people, but they're both glaring at each other with distrust distrust. Beca because she wants Aubrey to leave; Aubrey, because she doesn't want to leave you.

Beca breaks her staring contest with Aubrey and instead looks over at you. She claps her hands together, smiling in a falsely cheerful way. 'So! Do we paint each other's nails and talk about boys now? Or girls, I suppose,' she adds on an afterthought.

'What are you doing?' asks Aubrey, her eyes narrowing.

'Just making conversation.' She combs her fingers through her hair, making a face at how it feels. 'This is gross. I'm gross. Are there seriously no actual showers here?' she asks, referring to the outdoor shower you all had to make do with to wipe the mud off.

'There are. All of the other Bellas were meant to be making use of them right now, but presumably they had other ideas.'

'What?' Beca exclaims. 'You never told me that.'

'You're welcome to join them, if you want,' says Aubrey, with a pointed arch of her eyebrow.

Beca looks sorely tempted, especially when she hits a knot in her hair during her finger-combing. However, she shakes her head. 'Nah, I'll just stay here continuing to stink up the tent,' she says. 'If Chloe's alright with that, I mean.' They both turn to you expectantly. You simply shrug. 'That's informative.'

'She can leave if you're uncomfortable, Chloe,' Aubrey assures you, making Beca bristle.

'Did you ever think the reason she's uncomfortable is because you're here?'

'Don't be ridiculous. I'm Chloe's best friend; of course she's fine with my presence.' They look at you again. You just shrug once more in response. Beca lets out a snigger, while Aubrey appears put out. It's not the answer she wanted to hear, you know, but that shrug is an accurate summary of how you feel currently.

'Do what you like,' you respond dully. 'I'm not sure I care anymore. Everything suddenly seems rather meaningless.'

Beca snorts - but not in a disparaging way, you know. 'You're so dramatic, Chlo. You gonna break out the angsty poetry?'

'Don't be mean,' Aubrey scolds.

'I'm not. I'm trying to make her laugh.'

'Well, does it look like it's working?'

'Ha,' you say, monotone.

'Yes.'

'That doesn't count.'

'Ha-ha.' You try to keep a straight face, but make the mistake of meeting Beca's gaze. She's openly grinning at you, with that one expression that tells you she thinks you're being a complete dork, but she loves it. You fail at holding back your giggle.

'You're both complete idiots,' Aubrey says, rolling her eyes. She sighs. 'Speaking of idiots, I should probably go check on the girls. I'm putting my neck on the line letting them use those showers as it is - knowing them, there's already been some form of property damage.'

From her expression, you know she's feeling a bit useless - you reach over to clasp her hand for a moment. 'Bree,' you murmur, 'thanks.'

You do your best to put as much feeling into the word as you can; she seems to recognise the gravity of the statement. 'That's quite alright,' she says, beaming as she gets to her feet and smooths out the creases in her shorts. 'Glad I could help.'

'Did you really?' snarks Beca.

'Less of the cheek, Beca. I may not be your captain anymore but you're on my grounds and I can make you run laps – or worse, understand?' In the face of Beca's glower, she smirks. 'That's better.'

'That would just be mean after everything else we've had to do today.'

'It'd be more than you deserve, I assure you.' Aubrey checks her watch. 'It's probably too late to start up another activity now, anyway. I should start getting ready for the Cleansing Campfire.'

Beca turns to you, confused; but you have no more idea what Aubrey is talking about than she does. 'Do I even what to know what torture that is?'

'It's our final event,' explains Aubrey, 'where we celebrate all your accomplishments this weekend and your newfound ability to work together. We then symbolically burn away your previous dislike, jealousy, and/or feelings of homicidal rage at your colleagues in the form of marshmallows. As such I expect any lingering tension between the two of you to have dissipated by then, or else the marshamallows won't be the only thing we're putting on the fire.'

Having finished this – hopefully - scripted spiel, she grins, clasping her hands together.

'So do we all understand?' She surveys your alarmed faces. 'Yes? Lovely. See you then!'

'… Aubrey scares me sometimes,' says Beca, when Aubrey is definitely out of earshot. 'Although it's kind of cool how she's made being terrifying into a career.'

You smile weakly. 'It does suit her, doesn't it?'

'I still think she would have made a better cartoon villain, but whatever. Do you mind if I lie down?' Beca asks, with barely a moment's pause between the two topics. 'My body feels like the Trebles minibus backed over me.'

When you agree, Beca flops down on her side. Somehow, this puts her hand in the perfect spot to land directly on your own, fingers slotting into the spaces between yours. You can't help but laugh from surprise, because you hadn't expected Beca to do something so cute – or so corny.

'Sneaky.'

'I have no idea what you're talking about,' she says, at the same moment beaming and giving your hand a little squeeze. You know she's trying to reassure you that you haven't ruined things entirely, in her own Beca way. It's comforting.

You still squirm, however, not sure how to begin this conversation. Feeling awkward around Beca is not a sensation you're used to. '… How are you?'

She chuckles. 'Shouldn't I be asking you that?' she says, propping her head up on her elbow. 'FYI, I'm sore as hell from all the torture Aubrey has put us through today. But I'm good besides that. How are you?'

You ponder this question, warily surveying your current state of mind while trying not to engage in any of the less than pleasant thoughts it's generating. 'Is "fragile" an emotion?' you ask eventually.

'I dunno. But don't worry, I won't tell anyone you're feeling made up emotions.' Her thumb brushes yours so lightly you might have imagined it. It's strange to you, how careful she's being in her movements towards you, as though scared she's going to frighten you off. It feels like such a reversal from how things were at the beginning of your friendship.

'So, is this the lesbian drama Cynthia Rose warned me about all those years ago? Oh yeah,' says Beca, reading the expression on your face, 'she told me to never date a woman because of it. And then argued with her ex-girlfriend over text for the next two hours.'

'That sounds like CR.' You sigh, stretching out your legs from the cramped fetal position you've been in for a while. 'I don't want drama. I think we've had enough for a lifetime already.'

'Well, that's a dilemma, because I don't want any either.' Beca hums pensively. 'Does that mean we can't keep dating?'

This comment takes you aback. 'Is that what we're doing? Dating?'

She looks disturbed at the very fact you're asking. 'Well, duh. Or do you always kiss your friends? Actually, don't answer that; I've seen how you are with Stacie.'

She's smiling so sweetly at you, chuckling at her own joke. Trying her level best to make you feel better with those dorky comments that are just so Beca. Not acting like everything is fine - because both of you know that the current situation is far from it – but acting like everything could be fine, if she can just get you to smile again.

But is it going to be fine? Fuck knows, is your mind's blunt answer to that. You feel like you're dangling on the edge of some precipice, clinging for dear life over a dark, unknown void. It seems to you that everyone has been trying to stomp on your hands to make you let go, when all you really want is reassurance that the drop isn't that large after all … Or at least that someone is going to support you when you do finally let go. Maybe Beca is finally trying to provide that now.

You can feel it all welling up within you again. The exhaustion. The humiliation and disappointment. You're so tired of letting everyone down – you can tell yourself you're used to the looks on your parents' faces when you say you're staying at Barden for yet another year, but that sting never really leaves you. Or when your professors groan when they see you back for another semester. Or when your friends discuss what they want to do after college with such bright, excited looks in their eyes. Meanwhile, you avoid all instances of that topic. On top of all that, you don't even want to think about the monumental amount of debt you've put yourself in or how you're going to begin to pay that back.

That's the kicker, really; you've never wanted to think about any of this. It was easier to stay in Barden, where it was familiar. With your friends, and acapella, and Beca. Pining over Beca from a distance was familiar to you too. It was almost comforting in its consistency, because over time you got used to Jesse and your jealousy. Knowing it would never happen. Except then Kommissar entered the picture, and it did happen, and now you have her. Despite all the confusion and the rocky start, you're genuinely dating now. Beca just said so. And yet the only way you can keep her is to actually confront all the things you've been trying so hard to stay away from.

You don't really have a choice here, but that doesn't mean letting go doesn't completely terrify you and make a painful lump rise in your throat.

'Beca…' you say, her name getting swallowed up in a sob. She doesn't say anything more. She simply slides a hand to the back of your head, guiding you down into the crook of her neck so she can hold you as the dam begins to break.

'It's okay,' she whispers into your hair, gently rubbing your back. 'I'm here, y'know? I mean, I stink of mud and sweat, but I'm sure that's totally comforting.'

Every tear that leaks down your cheek and seeps into her hair feels like it's draining some vital life force from you, until you're just a limp mess lying on the tent floor. You should feel a little embarrassed about how hard you cling to her, almost shaking Beca with the force of your own sobs. If nothing else, you're glad you have your face tucked into her shirt because you're beginning to ugly cry - that's not an attractive sight for anyone.

'Jesus, Chlo. You're gonna make me cry soon.' You remember her saying these words to you, on that day when she kissed you for the first time. As ever, that all feels like a lifetime ago; you almost feel like you would gladly trade being confused about Beca's feelings for how you feel now. Although the assurance that she feels the same way now is comforting, adult decisions are looming, and you're not at all keen on that prospect.

'I'm so scared,' you admit, teeth sinking deep into your bottom lip at the admission. Just saying the words, moving your jaw and tongue, seems to take monumental effort. You know Beca is aware you don't just mean in this moment – to some degree, you're acknowledging how terrified you've been this whole year. The past few years, even. Maybe forever.

'I know,' replies Beca. Her voice is low and serious, yet somehow still soothing. The way she speaks every word against your skin sends a pleasant buzz down the back of your neck. 'I know.'

'What're we going to do?'

'Well, that I'm not sure of.' You let out a noise of distress at her words. But then she says, 'We'll figure it out together.'

'How do you know?'

'Well. That's obvious. It's because I won't have it any other way.'

The statement is paired with a nervous little scratch of Beca's nails at the back of your neck, and a stilted laugh. She's worried too, you can tell. She's trying so hard though, and you can tell she means what she says. You're still not sure you can trust Beca completely on this issue, but it can't be any worse than feeling as alone as you have up until now.

'… Okay,' you say. Finally, you relax the tiniest bit, allowing your body to sink into hers. You're still crying, but the force of your sobs is gradually lessening to a slow, sad hiccup every few seconds. She's right there, tightening her arms around you.

'Yeah?'

'Yep.'

'… Okay, cool.'

'What are talking about again?'

Beca half laughs, half sighs in relief, ruffling a few strands of your hair. 'That you're okay. I was starting to worry. I don't know if you've noticed, but apparently I'm way better at yelling at people and sending them into a breakdown than I am at comforting them after the fact.'

You can hear the guilt in her voice and feel her legs shifting next to yours in discomfort; a more bodily version of her usual self-deprecating wince. 'You did fine,' you assure her. 'And it wasn't you driving me into a breakdown. It was… the situation.'

'Which I added to.'

'Maybe. But anyway,' you say in as bright a tone as you can manage (not wanting to linger on this topic), 'Dating?'

'Dating,' agrees Beca; she then adds quickly (and nervously), 'I mean, if you're cool with that, obviously. Jeez, maybe I should have asked properly – is there some sort of ritual when it's two women?'

'Ritual?' you ask, amused. 'What, you mean you haven't sacrificed a goat to the gay gods in exchange for my hand?'

'No. I ate a bagel the other day, does that count?'

You snort, burying your face into her neck to muffle your laugh. 'Sure, Beca. Now you've eaten a bagel, we're dating.'

'It had cream cheese on it, though. Is that gonna be a problem?' she says apologetically - knowing you hate that stuff. You wrinkle your nose at the very thought.

'I guess I'm just gonna have to put up with it,' you say with a dramatic sigh. 'By the way, there's no ritual as far as I'm aware. We just do whatever we feel comfortable with.'

'Well, I feel comfortable with us dating,' Beca says, with unexpected boldness; this seems to surprise both of you, because she coughs awkwardly straight after saying it. 'Okay, not a sentence I ever thought I'd say to you.'

'I never thought I'd hear it from you.'

Beca hums in agreement. 'This is so weird – if you'd told me all this would happen when I blurted out a few awkward lines to some German beauty queen, well…' You make a face, and even though Beca can't even see you, she somehow knows it's sour. 'Still jealous?'

'I was never jealous, per se,' you reply defensively. 'But all the same, it's hardly fun knowing someone else made you realise you're into women, instead of the one you're… dating.' The word feels strange in your mouth, but you the smile that tugs at your lips won't be suppressed.

'Eh, I can't feel too bad. If I hadn't made a fool of myself that day and made you jealous – sorry, "not jealous" - we may never have got this far.'

You chortle. '"That day", you say, like there was only one time you made a fool of yourself…'

Beca shoves your shoulder lightly. 'Yes, yes - Beca is an idiot who doesn't know how to start relationships properly, blah blah,' she says grumpily. 'We got that.'

'Do you regret it?'

She blinks, brow furrowing a little. 'That's kind of a weird question to ask considering I basically just asked you out.'

'Well, do you?'

Beca ponders this question a little too long for your liking, but you realise she's just trying to give you a full answer. 'No,' she responds eventually. 'Not at all. I mean, I wish I'd gone about it differently, so I regret that, but… Everything that came afterwards has been pretty cool.'

'Even with the arguments?'

'Even then.'

Beca gives you a shy, lopsided smile. You smile back, but something is still on your mind. 'Why did you kiss me?'

She seems taken aback by this brusque question. Even you're not quite where it came from, only that it's been playing on your mind for a long time.

'Um, I'm not really sure,' she says. 'You were crying. And you know I hate when you do that. It's like watching those ads about abandoned puppies and kittens. It's so sad.'

It's not a particularly flattering comparison. 'You said you didn't return my feelings.' The statement isn't meant to sound accusatory, but you can't help it. 'You literally told me outright that you didn't feel the same way I did.'

'In my defence, I honestly didn't think I did back then,' says Beca, grimacing. 'I wasn't lying when I said that originally, I swear.'

'Why kiss me, if you didn't feel that way?'

Beca groans, rolling onto her back to put some distance between the two of you. You roll onto your side, but it's not quite the same; you immediately miss the contact. 'I don't know. I seriously don't. You were crying and I just panicked, thinking I'd fucked everything up. I just wanted to fix things.'

She kissed you because she wanted to fix things? If anything she made things ten times worse by doing that. You can only stare at her with your mouth open. 'Beca, that's…'

'Yeah, I know. It's colossally dumb. We've covered this before,' she says irritably. 'I wasn't thinking. While you were talking though, telling me off for confusing you, all the while I was wondering, well, do I have feelings for you? I had no idea. It was a spur of the moment thing. I ran off because I got hit by a truckload of feelings and thoughts I couldn't really process with you there.'

'Oh my God, Beca…' You butt her shoulder with your forehead in annoyance. 'Do you know how much you confused me by running off like that?

'Yeah well, I was confused too. In my defence, the whole thing with Kommissar seriously did mess with my head. That, and I'm just an idiot.' Beca feel her chest expand and contract where it's touching your forearm as she sighs deeply. She cocks her head to the side as she raises an eyebrow inquisitively. 'Actually… You wanna know something else I did that was dumb?'

If that's not ominous… 'What?' you ask suspiciously. 'Did you hit on some other German woman?'

'No!' Beca nudges you with her foot. 'God, no faith in me at all. No, you remember when I didn't come home for a few days? Before Jesse and I broke up… Before all this.' You nod, already not looking forward to this story. 'I almost spoke to Jesse about us. Actually, he was the one who brought it up.' She smiles darkly at the shocked look on your face. 'I know – I was shocked too.'

'What happened?'

'Well, he knew I was avoiding you and going home for some reason, but he didn't know why. He wanted me to go back and make up with you, saying I was moping about and it was frustrating to watch. But obviously I didn't wanna go back, and he kept asking why – what did we fight about that was stressing me out so much? And…' She shuts one eye, bracing herself for some impending blow. 'I may have told him that you had a crush on me.'

Your jaw drops, and you shove her slightly; it was probably a good idea for her to brace herself. 'What? Beca! Why would you do that?'

'It seemed like a good idea at the time…'

'Beca, I swear…' You sigh. 'And? What did he say?'

Beca bites her lip. 'He seemed… amused.'

'Amused?'

'I don't think he got why I was stressed about it – he just thought I was uncomfortable with the idea of you being into me. It annoyed me, to be honest with you, since obviously I couldn't tell him the real reason we'd fought because I was too chickenshit. And when I eventually did tell him what was going on… It sucked, watching all the pieces come together in his eyes. Watching him realise.' You're about to ask for clarification but Beca's already read your mind. 'Watching him realise that I was falling for you.'

Your eyes widen, but Beca is still going on, ruining the moment. Typical.

'I mean, that I am falling for you. Or, I've fallen. I fell? Whatever is the most appropriate tense, I dunno, I'm not the best grammarian.' She pauses. 'Does that make a lick of sense, or am I just talking garbage?'

You swallow, reaching up to cover her hand with yours. 'You've really fallen for me?'

'Is that so surprising?' Beca scoffs. 'First you didn't know we're dating, now this.'

'You don't exactly talk about these things,' you say, affronted. 'You have to be clear with me or I'll just assume the worst.'

'Well, I'm telling you now.' She meets your gaze and says dramatically, 'Chloe, I've fallen for you. Falling. Fell.' Beca giggles (actually giggles, who would have thought that would be a thing?) when you groan and push her a little.

'Be serious.'

'I am serious,' she replies, even though she's grinning like a madman. 'And to be honest it's not that surprising. I mean I only had to kiss you once before I was trying to throw everything I'd known for the past few years, right? Even though it was fucking terrifying. Even though it would have been way easier to just truck on with Jesse to L.A., I still ended up here. With you.' She shrugs. 'And I'm pretty happy about it.'

You suck in a breath, assessing the weight of this statement. Beca really has given a lot up for you. 'You're braver than I am.'

'It's not really brave,' she says. 'Brave makes it sound like I had some level of control over it. In reality it was more like… An inevitability.'

'An inevitability?'

'Yeah. When I kissed you, it was like waking up. It's hard to go back to sleep when you know what the real world is like.'

'That's oddly poetic, for you,' you say, even as your heart is currently doing its best butterfly impression and fluttering madly in your chest.

'Oh, shut up.'

'What cheesy romance novel did you pull that one out of?'

'Oh my God,' she cries, turning her face away from you. 'That's the last time I try to be romantic, I swear.' You lean in closer, trying to push her head back so you can see her again; she opens one eye, and somehow manages to glare with it. 'Nope. I'm mad at you.'

'I bet I can fix that.'

Beca scoffs. 'Oh yeah?' All you do is look up at her through your lashes, with your best (which is quite effective if you do say so yourself) attempt at a seductive gaze. It works fairly well. Her smile drops off. You feel her throat undulate with a swallow beneath your palm when you cup her face.

You've had quite a few kisses with Beca over the past few months, each with their own particular "flavour". This one feels the lightest thus far, and the easiest to sink into; no worry about impending arguments, or Beca freaking out and running away. Even if any of the Bellas came in right now you would probably just ignore them, because this – this kiss is the one you've been waiting for. The swell of her bottom lip fitting not quite perfectly against yours, but the pressure somehow still making you feel lightheaded. Beca's fingers gently touch your shoulder, before growing more confident and placing the full flat of her hand on your skin. She slides her fingers up into your hair, snagging slightly in all the physical activity borne tangles. For once you hardly notice, because finally, a kiss that doesn't make you want to sob while eating disgusting amounts of ice cream.

And when Beca breaks the kiss off this time, she seems … winded. You are too, but it's much cuter on her, when her cheeks are glowing red and her mouth is all swollen. When she catches your eye and sees how you're smirking, she promptly hides her face in your neck. You can sense her rolling her eyes, despite the fact you can't see her.

'I think I like girls,' she says in a mock conversational tone. The words are half smothered into your skin, but you can feel her lips curve up against your collarbone in a smile. 'Or at least you, I have no idea.'

'You don't need to know.' But you can't help yourself from grinning upon hearing that, as you nuzzle into her and drop a kiss on the top of her head. 'But, join the club.'

'Do I have to do something to mark it? Cut my hair? Wear more flannel shirts again?'

'You know, Cynthia Rose would totally slap you right now for perpetuating stereotypes.'

She snorts. 'Oh please, girl's a walking cliché if I've ever seen one. And she takes full pride in that fact.' Beca stretches out her legs alongside yours. Her feet don't quite sit at the level yours do; her toes skim your ankles and the bottom of your shin instead. 'How are you feeling?'

'Still fragile,' you say. 'And wondering if maybe you're right.'

Beca nearly clips your face as she thrusts her arms up triumphantly. 'Hallelujah!' she cries. 'The day has finally come, thank the Lord. I'm actually right about something.' She pauses. 'What am I right about, again?'

'About… staying at Barden.'

It's almost worth all the aggravation you've gone through to watch Beca's eyes grow rounder now. She's normally not so forthcoming with her feelings if they're not sarcasm (definitely an emotion for Beca) or general exasperation, but you can see that she's excited now. 'Hold up,' she exclaims, 'are you finally thinking about graduating?'

'Maybe.' You ignore Beca's mini dance party next to you, where she deliberately nearly clips your face again doing some kind of celebratory arm flail. 'I know, deep down, I don't want to stay at Barden forever. I do want to move on, it's just… I don't know what to move on to.'

Her expression doesn't change one iota, frozen into happiness.'It's not like you have to know exactly where you're going. Just that you're not gonna stand still.'

'Don't I?' you say skeptically. 'You do.'

'Yes, but that's me - I've known what I wanted to do since I was fifteen, dude. That doesn't mean everyone does. In fact, I think if you asked the other Bellas they'd say they don't know either... But they're willing to give whatever comes their way a shot. You could too, if you wanted to.'

As you're pondering, Beca is getting up onto her knees, stretching her back out with a grunt and a small pop. 'Speaking of the Bellas…'

'We should probably get back to them sometime soon,' you agree.

'Probably. I mean,' she says hesitantly, with a small frown, 'if you think we've resolved our drama enough. I figure since you've just said you want to graduate now that we have, but we can continue talking if you want?'

She holds out her hand to you. You're unsure about taking it, but when you do, it feels oddly… comforting, and hopeful, in spite of the fact you can feel how clammy Beca is too. It's strangely fitting.

'I think we'll be okay.' you say with a smile, causing Beca to groan with relief.

'Oh thank God. I have to say, I wasn't looking forward to being thrown on a campfire.'

You laugh, accepting final kiss from her when you sit up. Her hand cradles your cheek briefly, radiating heat; her other fingers squeeze your briefly. 'I don't know,' you tease. 'I think you would have made a delicious s'more.'

Over marshmallows and a campfire, the sappy friendship talks begin. You explain to the Bellas what the hell has been going on, recapping – with some skimming of details here and there such as what you got up to last night or in the tent earlier – what you were fighting about with Beca. Slyly, you drop in a reference to the fact you and Beca are dating now, and are rather miffed when no one but Aubrey beyond a nod. Apparently this relevation is not a surprising one, but you'd have thought at least some form of congratulations would be forthcoming.

Still, Aubrey squeezes your shoulder and smiles at you... All while telling Beca if she hurts you, she's going to capture her in the bear trap and use her as a piñata for future team building exercises.

'Mm, should I be doing this protective thing for you as well, Beca? After all, I am your bestest, most fabulous friend...' She turns to you, expression serious. 'Chloe, if you don't put out enough… Well, I probs won't do much, because that seems like a lot of effort I'm not really willing to put in. But for my sake, please give up the goods regularly because I don't want to walk in on Beca having lady jam time. Cheers.'

She takes a bite out of her marshmallow.

'... Thanks, Amy.'

With that "settled", conversation rapidly returns to the topic of Beca's internship, and why she decided to hide it. The fact that the question is really about why she didn't tell you goes unspoken. 'I didn't really intend to keep it a secret,' says Beca, looking sheepish. 'It just kinda happened, because I'm a dumb dumb and that's what I do… When I decided to stay at Barden instead of going to L.A. initially, I'd been worrying that I missed my chance to get myself out there - so when this internship came up I wanted to make sure I made the most of it. I didn't want to blow it, and I also didn't want anyone to know if I blew it.'

You didn't know about any of this - that Beca had been worried about staying on at Barden.

'Ooh, I get that,' Emily says, surprising everyone. She goes a little pink in the face at the attention. 'The being worried about messing up thing. I mean, when you guys all leave I'll still be here trying to rebuild the Bellas and live up to the name you've already made for us.' She blinks rapidly down at the campfire, rubbing her palms over her thighs. 'I don't want to let anyone down. Makes me feel really young… And small. I know how you feel, Beca.'

'You are young, Legacy,' says Amy. 'And you're about the size of my right leg.'

'No, I understand what Emily is saying,' Aubrey cuts in. You're somewhat relieved that someone is continuing the conversation, instead of it getting swallowed up in Amy's jokes. Much as you love them, they do sometimes derail serious conversations. 'Don't worry - I'm sure you'll make a fantastic captain next year, Emily. And even though you'll have a new family next year, whatever happens the rest of us will still be right behind you.'

Aubrey doesn't have to look in your direction for you to know she said those words for you as well. Emily practically glows at Aubrey's praise. Naturally, she deflects the attention away from her quickly by adding hurriedly, 'Beca's gonna be a great music producer some day, too!'

'I hope so, Em,' says Beca, sighing. 'When I'm sitting with you guys it feels so easy. But it's just, everything's changing so fast, and I'm putting all this pressure on myself, you know? I don't wanna fail…'

'If you'd just would have said something…' you can't help mumble, a tad reproachfully. She did tell you half the story – clearly wanting to let you in to some degree, but ultimately unable to. wanting to let you in, but ultimately couldn't. Thinking of how you could have helped her out or at least reassured her that she did have a voice in there somewhere that was waiting to come out. Beca is one of the most creative people you know.

'Yeah, I know, but I'm weird about that stuff,' says Beca, half laughing. That's an understatement. 'Thought I could figure it out on my own and I can't. Maybe I don't have anything original to say… I wish I could do what you do,' she adds, directing this last part to Emily.

Watching Emily and Beca talk – Beca in her typically aloof way, and Emily in her typically overexcited way – as they organise a collaboration for the future, you begin to feel… strange. You don't think jealousy quite fits (you're well acquainted with that feeling, after Jesse and Kommissar), but if you had to name it, it's perhaps something akin to wistfulness. It's been too long since you partnered up on anything musical with Beca, let alone anything original. It's something you miss dearly, and something you worry you may never get to do again outside the confines of the Bellas.

However, something Beca says sticks in your head: 'It's for life.' It's those words repeating in your head which make you finally speak up about your feelings. Somehow, it feels harder telling the others how scared you are compared to when you told Beca - however, Amy's snarky comment hits you harder than you thought it would. Although you've always known subtlety is not your strong suit, it's alarming knowing they've all known you were falling apart. Perhaps your fears are just a punchline by this point.

But then again, you think, as Aubrey takes your hand, and you feel the weight of Beca's stare on your back. Maybe they havetried to help. Maybe you just didn't want to listen.

You take a breath, and, unsteadily, you get to your feet. 'Then it's decided,' you say, voice sounding much more confident than you feel in that moment. 'This year, I will graduate. The Worlds will be my swan song.'

You can see the others looking a little skeptical, even Beca. You're not surprised; you would be too. In fact, you're still unsure deep down, despite your insistence that you truly mean it. 'I'll pursue my passion. I'll teach underprivileged kids how to sing, or I'll dance exotically…' You can feel yourself losing confidence under their stares. 'Whatever… offers the most money.'

You're half joking during that last part, because honestly you have no idea what you want to do. However, listening to the other girls, you start to realise that they have no idea either. Only Beca is the one that knows the direction she's travelling in, and even then there's a chance it might not lead anywhere. Maybe it doesn't matter so much where you go, as long as you're not standing still, and as long as you have the right company.

As ever… Beca always knows what you're thinking.

'You know, when I look back on this,' she begins, voice low and melancholic. 'I won't remember performing or competing. I'm gonna remember you weirdos.' She doesn't look up from her hands, beyond a few glances. 'It makes me really sad to think it won't ever be like this again… I'm gonna miss you guys.'

You wish you hadn't sat so far away, because you want so badly to hold her hand right now, or do something stupid like kiss her until she's not sad anymore. You have to help somehow, but a topic like this won't be easily changed or avoided anymore. However, no one else seems to be saying anything. The silence is beginning to drag as the full weight of those words, echoed by the other Bellas, starts to sink into your bones.

You start slowly with the first line, wary of Beca rebuking or laughing at you because it's such a corny, you thing to do. Indeed, Beca does roll her eyes as she sings the next line with you, but the grin on her face is involuntarily wide, almost embarrassed at how much she's loving this moment. But she does love it.

It only takes a beat for the others to join in too, and this is why you love the Bellas so much – despite how different you all are, the sense of community and family. These girls are your sisters and best friends (or in Beca's case, your girlfriend). For better or worse they've been there for you. It really is time for you to pay that back by moving on and letting new people in, so they can experience that same feeling as well.

As the song comes to a close, the idea hits you suddenly. You know exactly what you should do at Worlds: you just hope Emily and Beca will be willing to help you out with it.

Beca is staring into the fire; the way her gaze flicks up slowly and meets yours is nervous and unsure, but you can still detect the (slightly bemused) excitement in it. There's Freshman Beca in there somewhere, looking back at you with breathless wonder after you've performed your first mashup; already anticipating all the new possibilities and musical combinations. Although you're both older, you can still see through Beca as well as you ever could, because you feel exactly the same way.

There are more possibilities than just musical ones now, and you can't wait to explore them with Beca.

'Did… we just find our sound?'

'I think we did.'