-*-Chapter 12-*-
A/N: Alright Awesome Nerds, here is the next chapter of Stone Heart. I am so sorry that this has taken me so long to update. After the events of Lexapocalypse, I found it extremely hard to write angst. I am still struggling slightly, but writing really does help. So if this chapter isn't great, I am sorry. There are mentions of self-harm in this chapter so TRIGGER WARNING. I hope that you guys enjoy and please let me know what you thought. Thanks for reading!
~*~I've Got a Thick Skin~*~
Beca knows even before she opens her eyes that she is in the hospital. She can smell the mixture of sick with the overwhelming smell of antiseptic.
Opening her eyes slowly, she has to fight the urge to snap her eyes closed again. Gazing slowly around the room, the brunette takes in her surroundings. Stacie is slumped over in a chair next to Beca's bed, wrapped in one of Beca's old hoodies from high school. Her chin is resting against her chest, even breaths escaping her slightly parted lips.
Beca tries to sit herself up quietly in bed, careful not wake Stacie up. Sitting up slightly with a pained groan, she turns her attention to the bedside table next to Stacie. Reaching over, Beca tries to grab the cup of water.
"Beca. Stop. Let me grab the water."
Beca jumps at the soft voice on the opposite side of her bed. Emily is curled up in what looks like an uncomfortable looking chair. Her half-sister gets up quietly, making her way over to the table. She grabs the cup of water, making her way back to her chair. Emily sits back in her chair, scooting it forward quietly so she doesn't wake Stacie up.
As Emily gets closer to Beca, the older girl takes in the current state of her sister. Emily's eyes are reddened and puffy, lips slightly chapped. She hands Beca the water, smiling a soft smile that doesn't reach her eyes.
"Thanks Em. My throat is killing me." Beca's voice is raspy, throat dry and swollen. She takes a small sip of the water, wincing in pain as she swallows.
"Yeah. That tends to happen when you get your stomach pumped."
"Shit. That is why I feel like crap."
"Well that is only part of what happened Beca." Emily's voice cracks, tears sliding down her cheeks. Beca feels her own eyes well up at the absolute pain reflecting in her sister's eyes. Reaching over with her hand that is not currently speared with an i.v. needle, she curls her hand around her sister's.
"Em…"
"Well, well, well. Look who finally decided to rejoin the land of the living."
Beca and Emily's heads snap to the direction of the voice. Stacie is still slumped in the chair, palms rubbing against her eyes to wipe away the sleep.
Beca is not prepared for the look on Stacie's face when her manicured hands pull away from her eyes. Stacie's normally vibrant green eyes are bloodshot and dull. The skin surrounding her eyes is reddened and swollen, most likely from crying.
What shocks Beca the most is the absolute fury that is lacing the brunette's stunning features. Stacie is PISSED and Beca is more than a little bit scared of what is about to happen.
Stacie slowly gets to her feet, wiggling her hips from side to side to loosen up her back. She closes the small amount of distance between her and Beca's bed. The shorter brunette shrinks back into the mattress, attempting to make herself as small as possible. Stacie wraps her arms carefully around Beca's shoulders, gripping her best friend in a tight hug. Beca can feel Stacie's tears seeping through the thin material of her hospital gown. This was definitely not the reaction that Beca thought Stacie was going to have. She expected to be smacked or punched at least once.
Stacie stands hunched over Beca in a tight embrace for what seems like hours. Beca stays stoically in place, hands rubbing soft circles against her best friend's back as tears sting in the corners of her eyes.
"I am so fucking mad at you right now Rebecca." Stacie whispers against Beca's ear, voice low and husky with emotion. Stacie pulls away from Beca, eyes wet with tears. Her mouth is set in a thin line and Beca can see the anger threatening to boil over.
Before Beca can question Stacie's underlying rage, an older man in a lab coat strides into the room, chart in hand. The man barely glances at Beca before burying his nose back into what the brunette assumes is her medical chart. Stacie moves out of the Doctor's way, walking to the other side of the bed with Emily.
"Rebecca Mitchell. Nice to see that you are finally awake. My name is Dr. Stephenson. How are you feeling?"
Dr. Stephenson glances up from the chart, awaiting Beca's answer patiently.
"I feel like I got hit by a fucking Mack Truck Doc." Beca groans as a wave of pain rolls over her, most of it centered on her stomach and her throat.
"Well, that is probably pretty accurate considering what your body has gone through in the last twenty-four hours."
"Twenty four hours!? I was asleep for a whole day!"
"Yes. Your body has been through a lot. What is the last thing you remember?"
Beca wracks her brain, trying to pull up the last memory that she has of the past couple of days. The last thing that she can remember is her almost hook-up with Stacie. A blush creeps up the brunette's neck, face heating with embarrassment.
"Um. The last thing that I remember was hanging out in my bed with Stacie. We were having a girl's day, gorging on unhealthy foods."
"Did you take and illegal substance before you hung out with Stacie?"
Beca scoffs. "I'm pretty sure that you already know the answer to that. So, why don't you just tell me what the hell happened to me."
"You presented in the emergency room with signs of a narcotic overdose. Your friend rode in the ambulance with the paramedics. She informed them that you admitted to ingesting a substance. That you called her into the bathroom, told her that you were having chest pain, you were nauseous and cold. You passed out on the bathroom floor after admitting that you had ingested eight pills of MDMA. You ingested around twelve hundred milligrams of MDMA. Mixing that narcotic with the alcohol you ingested was more than enough to send your body into an overdose. Stacie left the bathroom while you were unconscious to call emergency services. When she came back into the bathroom, you were having a seizure….."
Beca sits up suddenly, wincing at the pain in her body. "Wait, what? I had a seizure!"
"I don't understand why you are surprised Beca! It's common for a seizure to occur during a FUCKING DRUG OVERDOSE!"
"Stace.." Beca turns her attention to her best friend. Stacie is standing over the hospital bed, fury blazing in her eyes. Her arms are crossed over her chest. Emily is hunched over in her chair, chin resting in her open palms.
"No, Beca. You don't get to talk right now. You are going to sit there in that bed and you are going to listen for once."
Stacie begins pacing at the side bed, thumbnail tucked between her teeth.
"What the FUCK Beca!" Stacie begins, eyes glued to the floor as she continues her rant. "Can you just, like tell me what in the fuck you were thinking!?"
Stacie stops her pacing at the head of the bed. Beca's eyes flit up to meet Stacie's. The taller brunette's eyes are glassy with unshed tears, pupils wide with fear.
"DO you know what seeing you in the hospital does to me? To Amy? To Em? To your mom? Hell, to Warren and Sheila. Do you even fucking care?"
The build-up of tears finally spill over hazel eyes, wetness running down the older girl's cheeks.
"Do you know what it feels like to watch your best friend have a GODDAMN seizure in front of you? How it feels to know that I can't do a fucking thing about it, except make sure that you don't bite your tongue off. Or smash your head against the floor."
"Stacie…"
"No. You don't know what it feels like. You don't know what it's like to be fucking helpless while your best friend destroys herself. While you sit there and act like it's no big deal that you had a FUCKING seizure in my arms a day and a half ago. You just continue having fun and doing whatever the fuck you want, while the people that love you sit back and worry. Sit back and hope that this time isn't going to be the last time you come home. That we won't get a call that you took too much while at work and you overdosed. That you are at the hospital in a coma, or even worse, dead."
"Seriously Stacie…"
"I'm not done, Beca. I have stood by you for years. I have been around for everything. I was there for you when everything happened with Warren. I was there when you struggled with your sexuality. I was by your side when you came out to your mom, expecting her to kick you out. I moved here with you so that you could make it big in the music scene. I am not trying to make this argument about me. I am trying to prove to you that I have been here for you. Through pretty much everything that we have gone through in our lives."
"What are you saying Stace?" Beca's voice is husky, cracking with emotion.
"I'm saying that I can't do this anymore Becs. I can't sit by and watch you slowly kill yourself. I won't continue to enable you. You need help. I will stand by you and help you in any way that I possibly can, as long as you admit that you are sick. If you refuse to try and get help, I'm done."
"What?"
"I'm done, Beca. If you don't want to get help, that is your decision. But you will be alone, because I can't handle watching you die."
"You don't mean that."
"Oh I very much mean it. Emily and I have been talking. If you don't go get help, I am going to move in with her and Benji temporarily."
"Em?"
Beca looks over at Emily, meeting her sister's somber gaze.
"Yeah?"
"Is this true?"
"I don't really know what you want me to say Beca."
"The truth would be a nice start."
"Yes. Benji and I offered for Stacie to come stay with us. Until everything calms down."
"Calms down?! Em, please don't sugar coat it for your sister."
Stacie leans forward, stopping inches from Beca's face.
"Do you not understand the severity of this situation? There is no way that you can be so daft. If you don't stop what you are doing, you are going to DIE Beca. This isn't a fucking joke anymore. Your body can't handle all this stress that you are putting it under. You aren't even twenty two years old yet. How much longer do you think that your body will last if you keep up on this current path?"
"Does it even matter anymore?"
"Yeah Beca it does matter. You fucking matter. Even if you are so fucking clueless about how many people care about you. So how about you figure that out, and then give me a call."
Stacie storms out of the room without another glance at her best friend.
Stacie blindly makes her way out of Beca's room, vision clouded by her tears. Her legs carry her blindly down the hall; stopping abruptly when she collides with what she assumes is another body. Falling backwards, Stacie's bottom smacks harshly against the linoleum floor. A pained groan leaves the brunette's lips, sharp pains shooting up her body. She rolls to one side, fingers pressing into the tender flesh of her bottom.
"Oh my gosh, are you okay honey?"
Stacie looks up from her very uncomfortable chair, meeting the concerned green gaze of a blonde woman. The woman's southern twang is thick, and oddly comforting to the brunette. The woman holds her hand out to the brunette, offering to help her up. Stacie grips the blonde's hand, pulling herself up quickly. Dusting her hands off on her jeans, Stacie looks at the blonde with a small smile on her face.
"Thank you. I am really sorry that I ran into you."
"Don't you worry about a thang honey. No harm done."
Stacie laughs lightly. "Thanks."
"Not a problem sweetie." The blonde places her hand softly on Stacie's cheek, turning her face from side to side. "Now, what has you worked up more than a cow on slaughter day?"
Stacie sniffles, wiping the sleeve of her hoodie against her nose. "Oh you know, just pretty much everything."
"Well, let's go down to the cafeteria, drink some sorry excuse for coffee, and talk about it. I'm Dee by the way." The blonde holds out her hand in greeting.
"Sounds good. It's very nice to meet you Dee, my name is Stacie." Stacie grasps Dee's outstretched hand, shaking it firmly.
"Likewise, Stacie."
The two women make their way silently down the hall, following the directions to the cafeteria.
"Go grab us a table honey, I'll get the coffee."
"You sure?"
"Yes dear. How do you take it?"
"Cream and two sugars is fine."
"You got it."
Dee makes her way to the cafeteria line, Stacie heading straight to a table. The brunette plops down at an empty table, resting her head against the cool wood. She hears the blonde woman approach, her slightly heavy footfalls giving her away. Stacie lifts her head from the table as Dee sits down with two Styrofoam cups and what looks like a pack of cookies. Stacie offers Dee a smile as the blonde slide the pack of cookies and one of the coffee cups over.
Stacie takes a sip of the barely lukewarm mud that they pass off as coffee. Her first urge is to spit it out, but she is so physically exhausted that she knows she needs the caffeine. The brunette takes a moment to take in the blonde's features. She looks oddly familiar, but Stacie cannot place why. All Stacie knows in this moment is that she feels comfortable around the other woman, and she wants to unload a little bit of her stress. Stacie takes a deep breath before taking another sip of the 'coffee.'
"So buttercup, tell me what's going on."
"I….God I don't know where to start." Stacie begins, feeling the slight stinging of tears in her eyes. "It's just been a really rough couple of months."
"Oh sweetie. That is how life works. When it rains on us, it pours."
"Yeah that's true."
"So what exactly are you doing here at the hospital today?"
"Um.." Stacie clears her throat. "My best friend was admitted today."
"Oh no. Is she okay?"
"Well. She's alive. Is she okay? That's a loaded question Dee."
"I can understand that."
"I just like…I don't know. I am just really, really worried about her. The life choices that she has been making lately are not healthy."
A soft sob escapes the brunette's throat, wayward tears rolling down her cheeks. Dee reaches over the table, taking the brunette's hand in her own.
"I can understand honey. My daughter is a patient here right now. She has been going through some things in her life. She hasn't been very successful in the way that she has been handling this stress. She almost lost her life this time, and she needs help. We are just at a loss when it comes to helping her. My other daughter is the one who found her, and she isn't really handling it very well."
"I'm sorry Dee. That must be really hard."
"It isn't easy dear. It is never easy when somebody that you love is suffering and you can't do anything about it. Can I give you one piece of advice Stacie?"
"Of course you can."
"I know that you are probably feeling really lost and frustrated right now. I know that it's hard to see your best friend suffer like she is. Just don't give up on her. No matter how much you are hurting right now, I can guarantee you that she is hurting at least twice as much. She needs you right now more than ever. Probably more than she will ever be able to admit."
Stacie chokes back a sob, wiping the freefalling tears from her eyes.
"It's just really hard to watch her destroy herself, without a care in the world."
"I know its hard dear; it wouldn't be called life if it was easy."
"Ain't that the fucking truth? Oh crap! I'm sorry. I totally didn't mean to drop the 'f' bomb on you."
Dee laughs airily, squeezing Stacie's fingers between her own.
"Don't worry about it honey. The situation called for an 'f' bomb."
"Mama?"
Stacie's head whips back, widened eyes meeting the surprised gaze of the woman that she cannot get out of her head.
"Hey Bree."
"You snuck out on me."
"Sorry honey. I was on my way to get some coffee. Sit down with us."
"Oh no that's okay. I don't want to impose."
"Seriously Bree, sit. I can leave."
Aubrey places her hand on Stacie's shoulder, squeezing the muscle softly. Stacie has to fight to not shiver at the touch. Taking a seat next to Stacie, Aubrey immediately grabs the cookies from the brunette's free hand.
"It's okay Stacie. You can stay."
Dee looks confusedly at the two girls. Stacie is staring at Aubrey with a look of longing and regret reflecting in her eyes. Aubrey is staring down at the table, her lips turned down in frown.
"Did I miss something here girls?"
"What do you mean, Mother?"
"Do you know Stacie?"
"Yeah…." Aubrey pauses, taking a deep breath. "Stacie is a really close friend."
"Oh! I don't know if you have every told me about her before."
"Yeah I have. She is my lab partner in my Organic Chemistry class. We study together a lot."
"Oh! Is she the one that Chloe calls "Sex on Legs?"
"Oh my god mom!?" Aubrey smacks her hand against her forehead, cheeks reddening quickly.
"What? I am just asking."
"Oh man. That is awesome." Stacie laughs, downing the rest of her now cold coffee.
"So Stacie, I am assuming that you have heard."
"Heard what?"
"About Chloe."
"Red? What about…" Stacie's words die off as realization sinks in, their earlier conversation slamming into her hard enough to take her breath away. "So…"
"Yes?"
Stacie swallows past the large lump in her throat. "Red is here?"
"Yes. Chloe is here right now."
"Oh my god! Is she okay?"
"Well she's alive."
"Alive?"
"Alright girls. I'm going to go sit with Chloe. I'll let y'all talk. Stacie, it was wonderful meeting you."
"It was nice meeting you as well, Mrs. Posen."
"Oh no dear, my name is Dee. Mrs. Posen is Aubrey's Mema. She's loonier than a bat out of hell."
"Mama!"
"Well it's true dear."
"Oh my god. I'm going to tell her the next time we go home to visit."
"Go right ahead. That woman knows that she is bat scat crazy."
Dee laughs heartily, scooting her chair out from under the table. She gets to her feet, smiling at the two girls before she walks towards the door. As soon as she is out of sight, Aubrey scoots her chair a small ways closer to Stacie. Dee looks on between the two girls from the entrance of the cafeteria. A small smile adorns her face as she watches the two girls interact with each other. Stacie still looks crestfallen, but her eyes are shining with life. Aubrey has a small smile on her face, eyes drinking in the brunette.
"Just lab partners my ass." Dee chuckles to herself, making her way out of the cafeteria.
Stacie eyes flit over the blonde woman next to her. Aubrey looks amazing as always. Even with the dark bags sitting under her bloodshot eyes.
"So…."
"So…."
Both girls laugh softly as they attempt to start this awkward conversation. Stacie puts her hand over Aubrey's, causing a sharp intake of breath from the blonde.
"Let me start Stacie, please."
Stacie clears her throat, nodding at the blonde. "Go ahead."
"Okay….so first I just have to get something off of my chest."
Stacie flinches at the blonde's clipped tone. "Okay."
"You left. We had an argument and you just walked out."
Stacie can feel anger instantly boil inside of her body. She twists her neck from side to side, popping out the tension in the joints.
"What did you expect me to do Aubrey? Stand there and let you berate me and taint our night together with hateful words?"
"Well..no, but you just left."
"Yeah. I left. You told me that I was a mistake. That what we had was a mistake. How the fuck did you expect me to respond?"
"I don't know. Like an adult maybe."
Stacie laughs sardonically. "Walking away was the adult thing to do in this situation."
"Well you could've stayed so we could talk it out."
"You called our night a fucking mistake. What more talking needed to happen?"
"Look Stacie, I get that my wording may have upset you. And for that, I am incredibly sorry."
"Apology accepted. So I'm just going to go."
Stacie stands up to leave, stopping abruptly as Aubrey's hand grasps her wrist. The brunette is pulled back into her chair unceremoniously, surprised by the blonde's strength. Settling back into the chair, the brunette fights back a grin when the blonde doesn't release her wrist.
"We aren't done with this conversation."
"Really? Because I don't really have anything else that I want to say."
"I really am sorry about the way that our conversation ended Stacie. I didn't mean to upset you. I just need to know. How did you expect me to respond to you waving your rainbow flags in my face? Telling me that you want to be introduced to my parents. It was way too overwhelming."
"That isn't the way that I meant for it to sound, Bree. I swear. I was just trying to help you realize that I am not going anywhere. I just wanted you to know that I was serious about us."
"So you thought that it would be a good idea to meet my parents right after we slept together? Do you even understand the struggle that I am going through right now?"
"Yeah, I do."
"No, you really don't. I was raised in an extremely strict household. My father is a very old fashioned southern man. I don't know how he will react if he knew that I was attracted to another woman. Not only that, but I have lived for twenty three years on this planet thinking that I was completely straight. I have never, ever questioned my sexuality, never once looked at another woman with lust in my eyes. Not until I met you. So you'll have to excuse me if I am a little bit confused right now."
"I get that Bree, I totally do. I was confused about who I was once. It's not an easy thing to figure out. Especially if you live your entire live believing something completely different. And maybe I came on too strong. I didn't mean to. I have never felt this strongly about somebody so quickly. I don't think that you understand what you do to me, what kind of spell you put me under."
"I feel the same strong pull to you Stacie. That is why I am so confused. And I'm freaking out because I am not in control of myself when I am around you. I have to be in control. I'm terrified of you. You make me feel things that I am not sure that I am ready to feel."
Stacie grasps Aubrey's wrist with her free hand, unclasping it from her wrist. She lifts the blonde's hand up to her mouth, pressing a soft kiss to the skin. Letting the blonde's hand drop back down into her lap, Stacie is surprised that Aubrey keeps their hands clasped together.
"Look Bree. I am really sorry for making you uncomfortable. I really wasn't trying to. I think that I was probably overwhelmed too and maybe I just didn't realize it. We probably moved way too fast. Please just don't give up on me."
"I haven't. Right now though, I think that we need to worry about other people before we talk about us."
"God, I hate when you're right."
Aubrey laughs softly, leaning forward to press a soft kiss to Stacie's forehead.
The first thing that Chloe feels when she wakes up is overwhelming pain. Her entire body feels like it is on fire. Rubbing her sleep encrusted eyes, the redhead takes in her surroundings. She knows immediately that she is in the hospital. If the antibacterial smell wasn't enough, the scrub clad woman in the corner is a dead giveaway. The woman is seated in the furthest corner of the room from Chloe, typing furiously onto a laptop.
"Hey Baby girl. You're awake."
Chloe turns her head to meet Dee's concerned green eyes. She can immediately feel the tears welling up in her eyes.
"Yeah." Chloe croaks, voice cracking from lack of use.
"How are you feeling?"
"Like crap Mama P."
"I know baby…" Dee leans over the hospital bed, pressing a soft kiss against Chloe's temple. Chloe immediately feels her unshed tears spill over. She is overwhelmed with a mix of anger and sadness swirling throughout her body.
"Why? Why am I still here?"
"Aubrey forgot her phone when she left the house. She came back to grab it and she found you in the bathroom. It's a good thing that she walked in when she did. You lost a lot of blood honey."
"Why didn't she just leave me alone?"
"Because she loves you Bug. You scared the crap out of her."
"She should have just let me die."
"Don't say that Chloe."
"Why not? I just cause problems. You guys would be better off without me."
"Oh no Bug. That's just not true. Our family wasn't complete until you came into our life."
A tortured sob escapes the redhead's mouth. "I'm just so tired Mama P. I'm just so done with everything."
Dee reaches up, running her fingers soothingly through Chloe's slightly tangled locks. Using her free hand, she wipes her wayward tears off of her face.
"I know baby. They wouldn't call it life if it was always sunshine and rainbows. Sometimes you have to hit the bottom before you can make your way back to the top."
"I just don't want to hurt anymore."
"I know Bug. Just don't give up. We are going to get through this. I promise."
"Where's Bree?"
"She's in the cafeteria with Stacie."
"Stacie's here?"
"Yeah. Her friend got admitted a day and a half ago."
"Oh god." Chloe arm drops against her face, a sharp hiss of pain leaving her lips as her injured arm hits her face. "Beca."
"What was that honey?"
"Her friend. Is her name Beca?"
"I'm sorry Chlo, but she didn't tell me her friend's name."
"Oh…" Chloe begins to sit up in bed, hissing as she yanks on her i.v. Dee puts a firm hand against Chloe's shoulder, halting the redhead's movement.
"Careful honey. Don't pull on your i.v."
"Yeah, Chloe. Lay back down."
Chloe's head whips around as Aubrey walks into her hospital room. The redhead sucks in deep breath and holds it, expecting Aubrey to tear into her for her actions. Instead, Chloe sees nothing but worry and sadness in her best friend's eyes.
"Bree…"
"Bug…"
Aubrey crosses the room in quick strides. She comes to a stop in front of Chloe's bed. The blonde gently sits on the side of the bed. The redhead immediately launches her body into her best friend's. Aubrey cradles Chloe's head against her shoulder, the redhead immediately nuzzling into the blonde's neck.
Loud sobs escape the two girls, relief and anger being poured out in waves. Aubrey is the first to break the embrace, tears steadily falling down her cheeks. Aubrey clings to Chloe's body, holding the redhead like her life depends on it. Chloe runs her fingers though blonde locks with her free hand, trying to soothe her best friend's broken sobs.
"Why, Chloe?" Aubrey's broken words cut through the air. Chloe's chest constricts with the utter devastation in Aubrey's tear addled voice.
"I, I…" Chloe's eyes overflow with a fresh wave of tears, emotion tightening up her throat. "I'm just so fucking tired, Bree." Chloe croaks as another sob erupts from her throat. "You should've just let me go."
"Don't you dare say that, Chloe." Aubrey sobs out as her arms tighten around Chloe's waist. "You can't just go and fucking leave me. I need you."
As Aubrey's arms tighten around Chloe's waist, she can feel just how skinny her best friend has gotten. Chloe's ribs press painfully against Aubrey's arms. The blonde has to bite back a sob as she realizes just how blind she has been to how sick her best friend is.
The girl's break away from their embrace as Aubrey's dad walks into the room with a doctor. Their grim expressions make Chloe's body fill with panic.
"Hello Chloe. I'm Doctor Parker." He flips through what Chloe assumes is her chart. "How are you feeling?"
Chloe barks out a sarcastic laugh. "I really don't think that you want me to answer that."
"Well I am pretty sure that I could take an educated guess. Judging by what I have seen in your chart, this isn't the first time that you have harmed yourself."
"What is this about?"
"Well, Chloe. Your family is concerned about you. Judging by how much you weigh, you've been starving yourself for a while now."
Chloe knows what's coming, feeling her defenses rise, she lashes out. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"Cut the crap, Chloe. They weighed you when you were admitted. You weigh ninety fucking pounds! That's not healthy." Aubrey's voice reverberates around the room, anger and fear lacing each word.
Doctor Parker clears his throat, silencing the room. "Like Miss Posen stated, your low weight is a huge concern for us. You are extremely malnourished right now, Chloe. That mixed with the cutting is very stressful on your body. In your history it states that you have been hospitalized before for malnourishment, when you were sixteen. So you were sent to a rehabilitation facility to recover."
"No, no, no." Chloe's eyes fill up with tears as her body begins to shake with rage. "I won't go."
"Chloe. We are grasping at straws here. You could've died this time. You're sick and you need help. So we are giving you two options. You can either willingly go to this facility, or we can have you court ordered to go."
"Chloe." Dee's tearful voice rings out. "We can't lose you baby. We aren't trying you upset you, but we don't know what else to do. You need to go heal. The place you are going to is in San Francisco so you will only be six hours away."
"Please Chlo; please go to this treatment center."
"How long do I have to be there?"
"At least ninety days."
"Chloe." Thomas Posen's deep baritone voice startles the redhead. His usually stoic presence is heavy with emotion, his voice laced with pain. "You have to go. You're going to die if you don't get some help."
The raw emotion in Thomas' voice is what changes Chloe's mind. He isn't one to show emotion openly, so the unshed tears in his eyes are enough to break the redhead's stubbornness.
"Okay. I'll go. When do I leave?"
"Well, you are cleared to be discharged now. So, you'll go today."
"Now?"
"Yes, now."
"We're going to drive you up there honey."
"Bree?"
"Hmmm?"
"Are you coming too?"
"Of course." Aubrey tightens her embrace on her best friend as both girls' begin to cry again. "I wouldn't let you go alone."
"Promise me you'll call?"
"As if you have to ask me that."
"Will you write to me?"
"Chloe! Stop asking me questions that you already know the answer to. Just fucking hug me until it's time to leave."
Chloe laughs, the sound a mixing with a sob. As remiss as she is to go to this treatment center, she knows that it's her last shot. That if she doesn't get help, she will end up dying. As worthless as she feels, she knows that she needs to do this for her family; they obviously want her to live. So she'll try, for them, she will try.
"This is fucking ridiculous Warren!" Beca screams at her father, rage overtaking her tiny frame. "You don't get to just waltz in here and boss me around."
"I'm not bossing you around, Rebeca. I am simply telling you that you need to get some help."
"Is that so? You fucking bounce when I am a kid and show up when I am an adult telling me that I need help?"
"I talked to your mother, and we both agree that you need this."
"You talked to mom?"
"Yes. Beca, you have a problem. We're worried about you."
Warren winces as Beca laughs in his face; the sound is dry and mocking. "It's L.A. Warren. Everybody does drugs occasionally."
"Occasionally? So you call overdosing twice in less than a year recreational drug use?"
"I don't need you to patronize me, Warren." Beca sits down on the edge of the hospital bed, running her fingers roughly through her hair.
"Look Beca, I'm not here for you piss you off or accuse you of anything."
"Well look at that, two more times you failed at something in my life."
"That's not fair Beca."
"Fuck fair! Do you think that ambushing me is fair?"
"I'm not ambushing you."
"Look, just finish saying what you have to say and get the fuck out of here."
"Beca! Don't talk to dad like that. He's just trying to help."
"Just stop Em! I know that you called him, so you don't get to tell me what to do right now."
Emily winces as if Beca just slapped her; her eyes immediately fill with tears. She gets up from the chair without another word and leaves the room.
"Was that necessary, Rebeca?"
"Look, Warren. I'm not really in the mood for you to bullshit me. I feel like shit right now."
"That's because you're detoxing, Becs."
"Well no shit, Warren. So spit it out."
"Well, your boss called yesterday. So Stacie took the phone call and explained to him what happened to you. Becs, look. If you don't go get help, they are going to fire you. Same thing with the club that you work at. So you don't really have much of a choice if you want to keep your jobs."
"Motherfucker! Of course you guys would pull this shit to force me into going to rehab."
Warren runs his hand through his hair in frustration.
"We aren't trying to force you into anything, Beca. We are trying to keep you alive."
"Don't act like you care."
"I do care! Why can't you see that? I know that I fucked up when you were a kid. But I'm trying to make things right."
"It's too late Warren."
Warren sighs tiredly. "Fine. What about your sister, Beca? You need to do this for you, but think about what you'd leave behind. You have so many people that care about you. People that want you around."
The one thing that flashes in Beca's mind are the bright blue eyes that have been haunting her dreams. Even in her subconscious, Chloe isn't far from her mind. She doesn't even really know the girl, yet she almost aches for her. Thinking about seeing the redhead again once she is sober is what sways Beca's decision.
"Fine." Beca grumbles. "I'm not doing this for you."
"That's fine. As long as you get sober, that's all that I want."
"When do we leave?"
"We'll leave in the next couple of hours, after you get discharged."
"Where am I going?"
"The facility is in San Francisco."
"Can you send Em to go get me some of my clothes?"
"Of course, Bec."
"Thanks. I'm gonna take a nap."
"Sure. I'll wake you when it's time."
Beca lays down without another word, screwing her eyes closed until she hears Warren leave the room. It isn't until she's sure that she is alone in the room that she lets her unshed tears fall.
Hours later, on the drive up to San Francisco, she finally comes to grips with everything. She's a drug addict and she's going to die if she doesn't get help.
Pulling out her phone, she types out a message to her best friend. It takes her twenty minutes and ten different messages before she musters up the courage to send it.
Beca "Effin" Mitchell: (03:30 p.m.) Hey Stace. I know that I am probably the last person that you want to hear from right now. And I totally understand. I treated you like shit and you don't deserve that. I just wanted you to know that I am going to get help and I am so fuckin' scared. But I know that I will die if I don't get sober. So I'm going to get help.
Beca tries really hard to stay awake for the drive up to San Francisco, but the events over the past couple of days have left her completely wiped out. When she doesn't get a response from Stacie during the first hour of the drive, she can't fight the desire to sleep anymore.
Getting checking into rehab is the most tedious process that Chloe has ever been through, especially if you just got out of the hospital for attempted suicide. The staff goes through every single personal item that Chloe has brought with her. Every single piece of clothing is check for a razor blade, or any other item that she can use to hurt herself. The admission process goes on for what seems like hours, by the time they lead Chloe to her room, she can barely keep her eyes open. She barely remembers saying goodbye to her family; Aubrey's whispered promises to visit ringing in her ears.
Being admitted for attempted suicide and an eating disorder is a pain in the ass. She has a staff member on her constantly, making sure that she is eating and not on the verge of hurting herself. Her roommate Flo is also there for bulimia, so they have that in common. The girl is boisterous and extremely outgoing. Chloe can't handle the sunny disposition of the other girl, which is funny considering who she is. Chloe Beale radiates sunshine, or at least she used to.
She doesn't feel like herself anymore. It's as if her life force was drained out of her the last time she cut herself. It's as if she is a shell of who she used to be.
She spends the first week in the facility walking around like a zombie. She can't have any phone calls or visitors for the first month, and she is missing her best friend terribly. If they weren't forcing her to go to group therapy, she would spend all of her time in bed. Unfortunately, her personal body guard makes sure that she attends those.
It's at the end of the first week that she has her first relapse. They all but force her to talk about her childhood. Digging up all of those unpleasant memories leave Chloe feeling absolutely disgusted with herself by the end of the session. She manages to ditch her security detail, barely making it into a stall before the contents of her stomach are violently expelled from her body. Her body guard finds her way into the bathroom before long, standing patiently by the door while Chloe finishes up. When she comes out of the bathroom, the secret service detail (Chloe thinks that her name is Jenn) is leaning up against the walk, a sympathetic smile on her face.
"You okay?"
"I'm fine."
"No you're not. And that's okay Chloe."
"What do you know about me?"
"I've been exactly where you've been."
"How much do they pay you to say that?" Chloe sneers, voice laced with venom.
"I'm not just bullshitting you Chloe. I used to cut myself when I was in high school."
Chloe's hardened glare softens slightly. "Why'd you cut?"
"A lot of reasons. I was bullied. I was heavier in high school and a total nerd. Kids in high school can be really cruel. So I started to believe what they said about me. Cutting was me being in control. I was in control of my pain. Nobody else."
"Yeah. I completely get that. I wasn't bullied but I get the control thing." Chloe makes her way over to the sink, turning on the tap she rinses her mouth quickly.
"I know that you didn't share much in group, but you can talk to me."
"I know."
"Come with me."
"Where are we going?"
"To my secret spot."
"You have a secret spot?"
"Yeah. I found it when I was a patient here. It was where I went to relax when things got overwhelming."
Chloe follows closely behind the other woman. As soon as they head out into the yard, Chloe is assaulted by the smell of fresh air. She hasn't bothered going outside since she was admitted, so her eyes tear up in joy as she smells the freshly cut grass and the spring flowers. They walk past the area where most of the patients hang out during the day. There is a small garden off to the left of the yard there is an old bench next to a tree. As they sit down, Chloe can make out the scenic view of the entire bay area. She can't hold back the gasp that leaves her lips as a few stray tears trail down her cheeks.
"It's beautiful."
"Yeah."
"Thank you for showing me this."
"You're welcome Chloe."
"I'm assuming that you want me to talk?"
"Only if you're comfortable. I won't force you to do anything."
Chloe sighs, tucking her hands into her lap. "It's not a pretty story."
"I can't imagine that it is. Would it be easier if I asked you questions?"
"Probably."
"Okay. If you aren't comfortable answering something, just tell me. I'm not talking to you as a therapist, which I am not. I am talking to you as a fellow survivor. As a friend."
"Okay."
"When did you first start cutting?"
"When my mom died. I was sixteen. The first time was actually an accident believe it or not. It sounds farfetched but honestly it was. I had gotten into an argument with my dad while I was cleaning the kitchen. I dropped a knife and it cut my thigh. It hurt like hell, but I also felt all of my anger dissipate as the rich red blood ran down my leg."
"It made you feel alive, didn't it?"
"Oh my god, yes."
"When did you start doing it regularly?"
"Like a month later. My dad is a bit of a jerk. He had a way that he would talk to me that made me feel worthless, like I couldn't do anything right. I was kind of afraid to cut again, so I took my insecurities out on my body a different way. At first I was eating and then throwing up after I ate. Before long, I started skipping meals or not eating for the entire day. It kind of just spiraled out of control really quickly. I got hospitalized for malnutrition and sent to a treatment center. When I got out, I was doing a lot better. I had gotten down to seventy five pounds at my lowest. By the end of treatment, I had gained back almost forty pounds and I wasn't cutting anymore. That lasted for about a month."
"What happened to cause the relapse?"
"Um. Well I had a boyfriend when I first started hurting myself. His name was Tom. He was, well is a great guy. He was a wonderful boyfriend and he tried so hard to make me feel good about myself. It just wasn't enough. I wasn't good enough."
"What do you mean, you weren't good enough?"
Chloe wipes her eyes, fighting against the tears that are collecting in her eyes. "I couldn't give him the affection that he gave me."
"Why do you think that is?"
"I was struggling with myself and not just body image issues. I grew up in a very strict Christian home. Around the time that I started dating Tom, I noticed that I was also looking at girls the way that I was looking at him. I tried to ignore it because I knew that my dad would flip. It worked for a while, until I went to treatment really. When I got out of the facility, I broke up with Tom. I didn't want to, but I knew that I wasn't being fair to him. He loved me so much and I just couldn't return those feelings."
"How did he take the break up?"
"He was upset of course. But he is such a sweet guy. We stayed friends; he's actually a lawyer in Georgia now. He's engaged to be married to a wonderful girl."
"That's amazing to hear. So what happened after you broke up with Tom? Did you start to hurt yourself more often?"
"I wasn't starving myself, but I kept cutting. I still wasn't okay with the way that I looked and I was struggling so much with my sexuality. The cutting helped me forget about those feelings. Until Jessica."
Who's Jessica?"
"She was a girl that was in one of my classes. We had a few classes together sophomore year. During the first month of junior year, she asked me if I would help her study for our SAT's. We made a plan to study over at my house. She kissed me while we were studying. She admitted that she had a crush on me and that I was beautiful. I kissed her back and things got pretty heated. My dad walked in and caught us. He obviously freaked out. Told me that he didn't raise a homosexual and if I liked girls, then he no longer had a daughter. He kicked me out of his house. I moved in with Aubrey and her parents until we graduated high school. And we came out here."
Chloe exhales a deep breath; completely scared of reliving the next part of her story, hoping that it doesn't trigger her again.
"I met a girl a month or so ago. My best friend Aubrey has been kind of seeing this girl. Well one night, this girl came over for dinner. She brought her friend, Beca. Beca is a deejay and a music producer in Los Angeles. She's sassy, beautiful, kind, and so much fun to be around. Well, we ended up sleeping together. It was the best night of my life and I wanted more. I just wanted to get to know her, because I couldn't get her out of my head. Well she didn't want the same, so she avoided talking to me for three weeks. When we finally met up again, I was really drunk and we got into an argument. I slapped her and left the bar with my friend C.R.
"Wow."
"Oh that's not all."
"I made a promise that night to Aubrey that I would not drink, because I had to pick her parents up from the airport. Well I broke that promise. Aubrey has always been a little bit of a hothead, so when I finally got home, she tore into me. And with good reason. I couldn't take it, so when she left to go to brunch with her parents, I stayed home. I'm pretty sure that you know what happened after that."
Chloe holds up her still bandaged wrist for emphasis.
"Yeah. I am aware of what happened. Thank you for telling me, Chloe." Jenn places a hand on Chloe's shoulder, her touch trying to calm the redhead.
The touch, mixed with the emotions from her confession causes the dam to break, causing the redhead to start bawling. Her shoulders shake with the force of her sobs as all of the years of feeling worthless and ugly slam into her at full force. Before she knows it, Jenn's arms are wrapping around her shoulders to pull her into a fierce hug.
"I want you know that you are good enough, Chloe. You are an amazing young woman. I know that you don't believe it right now, but you will. One day, you will know just how much you are worth."
"God, I hope so." Chloe croaks out between sobs, Jenn's heart breaking as she feels the younger girl's pain.
"It is not going to be easy, but we will get there."
It takes Chloe another fifteen minutes to calm down, her eyes puffy and red-rimmed from her tears. When the two women break apart, Chloe manages a sad smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes. Jenn returns a smile of her own.
"I just want to live. I don't even care if I die right now. And I don't like that feeling. I just want to want to live. If that makes any sense."
"It does, Chloe. I have been through the same feelings. We just need to take it one day at a time."
"Will you be here with me?"
"Every step of the way."
"Thank you."
"It's my pleasure."
The two women watch the sun set over the horizon, Chloe feeling at peace for the first time in a long time. She knows that this battle is going to be hard, but right now, she feels like recovery is possible.
TBC