FromTumblr: Like I said, I have no desire to cut Beca out of Aubrey's life or this fic.
SunDanceQT: Beca literally being in the dog house when Aubrey is mad.
RJRMovieFan: It'll be Chloe, Beca, and the dog in bed, and Aubrey going to the garage for some damn space.
Rebecca: Thank you!

Arrhythmia

The last girl and the last reason to make this last for as long as I could,
First kiss and the first time that I felt connected to anything,
The weight of water, the way you taught me to look past everything I had ever learned;
The final word in the final sentence you ever uttered to me was 'love'.
- Snow Patrol

"Chlo, you okay?" Beca asks after awhile.

Aubrey can't decide what's worse: Chloe crawling all over her earlier, or her absolute stillness and silence now. "How does your stomach feel?" she tries to be more specific when Beca doesn't get an answer. She'd ask her about her head, but she already knows the answer to that question.

Chloe sniffles and offers a tiny nod.

Aubrey isn't sure what that means. She reaches up and wipes away some of the tears still making their way down Chloe's face one at a time. There is a substantial temperature difference between Aubrey's hand and Chloe's face, and Aubrey doesn't think she's quite that cold. "Beca, feel her." She needs a second opinion. Maybe she really is that cold.

"What?" Beca asks, clearly not have been paying any attention.

"Feel her face," Aubrey says.

Beca looks confused.

"Tell me if she feels warm to you," Aubrey elaborates.

Beca places her palm flat across Chloe's forehead. "I don't think this is an adequate way to tell temperature," she says, unsurely, "Do head injuries cause fever?"

Being a walking Encyclopedia is great and all, except one problem – Aubrey can never recall random information that's ever actually relevant. She doesn't know the answer to Beca's question. But Chloe has gone from writhing around to lethargic in a much too short amount of time, and Aubrey has lived with her long enough to know that feeling sick is one of the only things that can drive Chloe into silence. Only, even then, Chloe still comes out of it every now and then to dramatically proclaim her imminent death until Aubrey gives her the attention she wants.

Maybe, she has an infection. She was out in the woods for awhile, and Aubrey took too long to clean the wound. It's doubtful she caught anything from being out in the rain – cold and rain don't even cause viral infections anyway, and she wasn't showing a single sign of being sick before. Only, her head doesn't look infected – just badly cut and bruised.

What Aubrey does know for sure is that Chloe needs a hospital.

Right now.

xxxxx

There was a knock on Aubrey's dorm room door, which was strange for a long list of reasons. Some of them being:

1. It was the middle of the night.

2. Bologna Barb was home visiting her parents, so she didn't just forget her key.

3. Aside from Chloe, who was so tired earlier (probably from partying too much) that she nearly fell asleep on Aubrey's shoulder at dinner, and was therefore most likely in bed, Aubrey didn't have any friends.

She pushed her blankets back and sat up – running her fingers through her hair, considering rather hopefully that maybe she had just been dreaming.

Another quiet knock.

Nope, there was definitely a person out there that Aubrey was going to have to deal with. There had better be an emergency or, 'deal with' would be the polite term for how she was about to answer the door.

More knocking.

"I'm coming." Aubrey swung her legs over the side of the bed and stood up – and she considered getting dressed and brushing her hair. They really expected her to answer the door in her pajamas with her hair all a mess? Maybe it was a serial killer knocking on her door. If it was, they were about to meet their match – and then their maker. She turned on the light, then flung open the door. "What?...the hell, Chloe?"

Chloe barely gave her a chance to assess the situation before she was trying to thrust her phone at Aubrey's face.

Aubrey grabbed the phone and held it by her side, staring at her for a fraction of a second in a state of shock. She had to understand what she was looking at here – Chloe, normally bubbly and all over the God damn place, standing tearfully in her doorway with a bloody nose that she was poorly trying to contain with a handful of tissues. Aubrey's first thought was: they couldn't stand there in the hallway. (Anyone who knew Aubrey without actually knowing her was probably going to think she punched Chloe in the face.) She took her by the arm and guided her inside, shutting the door behind them. The second thought: "What the hell happened?" If someone hit Chloe, now that person, she would punch in the face.

"She wants to talk to you," Chloe mumbled out, "She won't take 'no'."

What? Who? Aubrey was holding Chloe's phone. Right. She pressed it to her ear. "Aubrey Posen speaking," she said in a clipped tone.

"Hi, Aubrey…" the woman on the other end spoke sweetly, "This is Chloe's mom. Can you put me on speaker phone?"

Aubrey tilted her head. This was…new. She looked at Chloe then at her phone, and fumbled around on it for the speaker phone button for a few moments before finding it. "Yes, Ma'am?" She realized her other hand was still on Chloe's arm, and she left it there.

"Am I old to you, Aubrey? Please, don't call me Ma'am."

"Yes, Ma'am. I mean, no, Ma'am!" Shit. Also - what the hell, Chloe was literally crying and bleeding beside her, and now Aubrey was completely flustered – and what was wrong with Chloe's mother?! "I-I am half asleep. Do you realize your daughter is bleeding right now?" All over her shirt and Aubrey's floor. "Go…sit on my bed, Chloe. Don't touch anything." She grabbed several tissues and the trashcan for Chloe to throw the used ones in.

"I do," Chloe's mom answered, "I'm sorry, Baby, I'm half asleep, too."

Baby? Aubrey placed her trashcan on the floor and tossed her phone on the bed. This wasn't her first interaction with Chloe's mom – but she just could not get used to her.

"I think she got dizzy, and hit her face on her desk?" Chloe's mom waited a moment for confirmation from Chloe, continuing when she didn't get it, "I know she didn't feel so great earlier, and I told her that I was sure you would stay with her, but she insisted you would be angry."

"Mom!" Chloe pleaded.

"What the hell, Chloe?" Well, now Aubrey was a tad miffed – mostly at herself for thinking Chloe had just been exhausted. "Why would I be mad at that?" Irritated maybe – but that was only because Aubrey felt like she lived in a state of irritation being her default sometimes.

"I know she wants to come home, but that's not possible right now," Chloe's mom said, "So, I told her I would walk her to you, because you seem to be a home away from home. I know she adores you."

"Mom!" Chloe exclaimed again.

Aubrey didn't have anything to say to that – wasn't really sure if she understood. But she couldn't ask for an elaboration when blood was still gathering at Chloe's chin and dripping onto her pajamas. "I got it," she assured her mom.

"Thank you," Chloe's mom said, "I love you, Chlo. I'm going to hang up now, Pumpkin, because I think you're in good hands, and I cannot help you from here. I love you."

Chloe was quiet for a moment before telling her she loved her back.

Aubrey positioned herself sideways on the bed, one leg on the floor and grabbed several tissues out of the box. "I'm not mad." Only feeling a level of shame and mortification that Chloe would tell her mother that Aubrey would be angry at this. What kind of person did she (meaning both of them now) think Aubrey was? She took the bloody tissues from Chloe's hand and threw them away. "Tilt your head down," she instructed, pinching Chloe's nose with clean tissues. "Why would you think I would be mad at this?"

Chloe shrugged. "You always seem some level of angry."

"Not at you." It only took like two-thirds of a year to figure that out. Aubrey sighed. She wrapped her other arm around her to feel her forehead. "You feel like a furnace. What were you even trying to do? You should have been laying down."

"I dropped my iPod between the desk and the bed."

Aubrey checked to see if her nose was still bleeding. It was definitely slowing down. "You're a mess." She looked around for something to clean her up with, even though a 'physical mess' wasn't what Aubrey was referring to her as. She just happened to be that too – and now so was Aubrey. Aubrey looked at her nose again. "Do you have any bloodborne pathogens that I need to know about?"

Chloe looked at her, confused.

Aubrey had been kidding anyway. If Chloe had any diseases, she would have caught them by now with how often Chloe was physically attached to her. "Sit still." She threw the rest of the tissues away then walked over to the sink in her room to wash the blood from her hands and wet some paper towels in cold water. Chloe was going to need a new shirt, new pants. Aubrey would worry about that in a minute. She walked back over and nudged the trashcan out of the way with her foot, so she could have room to stand in front of Chloe and wipe the blood off her face.

"I can do it." Chloe tried to reach for the paper towels.

Aubrey pulled them back. "For one second in your life, Chloe, stop moving."

Chloe did – a little too much for Aubrey to not be concerned. She didn't even fiddle her fingers or find some other minor way to fidget that Aubrey could get onto her about. She just placed her hands in her lap and stared off, while Aubrey cleaned the blood from her face and hands. "I'm dying," she announced once Aubrey was finished.

"Well, that's just great, because your blood is all over my carpet and you convinced your mom I'm a sociopath. I wonder who they'll accuse first."

"She doesn't think that," Chloe said.

"She shouldn't think anything about me. She shouldn't even know I exist." Aubrey took a step back. "Take your clothes off." She cringed, fully expecting some sort of suggestive…indecency to come out of Chloe's mouth.

Only Chloe just sort of peeled her shirt off and placed it in her lap as she pulled her pants off next.

Aubrey pulled open one of her drawers and grabbed a t-shirt and some yoga pants.

"You told me not to move," Chloe pointed out, whining, as Aubrey closed the drawer again and turned to face her, "And now you're making me move."

"Mhm," was all Aubrey could hum out, as she looked away – praying Chloe couldn't hear the short intake of breath. It was normal to be uncomfortable around someone dressed in only their underwear in front of her. It wasn't as though Aubrey was exactly just accustomed to seeing boobs that weren't her own – even if she had seen Chloe's a few times now. Never under sexual circumstances of course. That would be wrong. What was she thinking about again? Giving Chloe clean clothes. Right. She offered her the clothes.

Chloe pulled the shirt on, then leaned over to place the pants at the bottom of the bed.

Aubrey…didn't say anything. She took Chloe's dirty clothes and tossed them in her own hamper for the time being. "I'm going to take your temperature." She didn't wait for a response before she went digging through her things (only, it wasn't really digging, because of her things were perfectly organized) for a thermometer and some Motrin. It was odd, taking care of someone that wasn't herself. She got her a cup of water, then brought everything back to the bed. "Swallow these."

Chloe did as she was told. She looked down into the water as Aubrey swiped the thermometer across her forehead.

101.2

"Really?" Aubrey showed it to her. "You didn't think to tell me you were sick at dinner?" She should have realized Chloe felt too warm at dinner – but Chloe always felt warm. Now what? The on campus clinic would be closed. Aubrey could drive her to the urgent care, but, honestly, it wasn't that high of a temperature, and her face looked fine. But she couldn't just send her back to her room. "Lay down," she commanded, and took the glass of water to place on the nightstand with the thermometer – and Chloe's phone, and the yoga pants, and the tissues in case her nose decided to start bleeding again.

Chloe slowly inched her way up toward the top of Aubrey's bed and lowered herself down onto her side.

That gave Aubrey two choices. Either sleep in bed with Chloe, or commandeer Bologna Barb's bed. Chloe it was! It wasn't as though they had never been on it together before – or even physically close to each other on it. It just…felt a little different during the day – when Chloe wasn't in her underwear and Aubrey's shirt, and Aubrey wasn't in her pajamas, definitely still looking like she had just woken up. She thought too much. She walked over to relock the door and turned off the light, then found her way back to her bed.

She sat down – and tried to take a moment to process how she went from sleeping alone to having Chloe in her bed. It was just like trying to process anything else that involved Chloe – too complicated. She would just have to deal. If Aubrey tried to understand life with Chloe, she wouldn't have time to do anything else. And, people liked sleeping in the same bed sometimes, right? It could be kind of nice. No. It would not be nice. It was weird.

"What are you doing?" Chloe asked.

Sitting here. Wondering how my life became this moment. "Trying to determine what I'm going to do with your body." Aubrey grabbed her iPod and laid down on her back. She offered one earphone to Chloe.

"I can name a few suggestions."

THERE it was. "Are you going to take this? If not, I'm going to listen to my music." Technically, she was still going to listen to her music. They had a playlist now – of music they both enjoyed. Chloe had suggested it, and Aubrey had assumed Chloe was just another person who didn't want to listen to what Aubrey did. It turned out they had more music interests in common than Aubrey thought.

Chloe took it and inched closer so she could reach it to her ear.

Again, Aubrey was left with choices. Put the right earbud in her left ear and be uncomfortable all night, or roll over to face Chloe. She couldn't just put the right earbud in her left ear. They were labeled 'R' and 'L' for a reason. Only – those apparently weren't her only options.

Chloe lifted her head and moved in closer, close enough that Aubrey could reach the cord to her other ear now, close enough that she was draped over Aubrey with her face tucked into the space between Aubrey's neck and shoulder.

Aubrey froze. She was sure Chloe could feel it. Her entire body, just stiff as a board. This wasn't new, Aubrey told herself. Just a few hours ago, at dinner in the cafeteria, Chloe's head had been on her shoulder. She tried to take a breath and relax. Chloe was incredibly hot (great, Aubrey was starting to find innuendos in her own thoughts), but, while extremely concerning, it wasn't the problem like Aubrey tried to convince herself it was. The problem was…Chloe smelled nice, and she was so soft, and Aubrey wanted to abandon her comforter and be wrapped up in her instead.

"Are you going to turn the music on?" Chloe mumbled.

Aubrey was clearly more tired than she thought. She quickly put the other earbud in and hit shuffle on their playlist – content as Just The Way You Are by Bruno Mars took over. "Go to sleep." She placed the iPod on her stomach and closed her eyes, sprawling her arms and legs out to the sides. It felt so awkward and uncomfortable – like she was trying to make a snow angel in bed. She couldn't sleep like that – or continue to be awake like that. She straightened her legs, allowing Chloe to tangle them up with hers, very aware that Chloe only had underwear on, and tried to decide what to do with her arms. It wasn't like she had never seen people sleeping in bed together on TV or in movies – they just...happened to have a more intimate type of relationship than she had with Chloe.

Chloe sighed quietly and slid her fingers under the shoulder of Aubrey's sleeve, gliding her thumbs slowly back and forth across Aubrey's bare shoulder. For comfort, of course, because she was sick – and, well, she was always a little delusional.

Aubrey hesitated then slowly wrapped her arms around her – because she was uncomfortable, of course, and had no other options.

Chloe remained quietly awake – eventually moving her hand to play with Aubrey's hair instead, twisting pieces around, threading them slowly, gently, between her fingers. She just sort of nodded whenever Aubrey asked her if she was okay.

Aubrey stayed awake too – to check on her, make sure she was drinking enough water, give her more Motrin. It was what any upstanding friend would do – which made Aubrey a little unsure why Chloe was there with her when she was friends with roughly every single person on campus. She always wondered why, given the choice, Chloe wanted to be around her. There were surely people who were a lot more fun for Chloe than Aubrey was. People who were more touchy-feely. People who…were just better suited for Chloe than she was. The night gave her a lot of time to think about her questions without providing a single answer. These were the kind of nights Aubrey always hated – the kind that left her feeling, what she was starting to pinpoint as, alone – only not this time, because she wasn't alone.

She was with Chloe.

Chloe who insisted to everyone that they were best friends.

Once upon a time, Aubrey had another best friend, and, actually, they slept in a very similar position, now that she thought about it. She kind of missed that doll – even if hard plastic was not exactly comfortable to hug all night. She slept with her until she didn't anymore – until she woke up one morning and her doll was just gone, and Aubrey didn't ask any questions. She already knew those answers. Only, she did ask questions – alone, at night – like why losing a stupid doll could leave such an aching hole in her chest that nothing could seem to fill, until eventually she just forgot about it.

And then suddenly remembered it again as Chloe hugged her closer, and finally fell asleep.

She wondered, if the loss of a piece of plastic could feel like it did, what would the loss of someone who hugged her back feel like?

And she pried herself lose, and sat at her desk for the rest of the night, because finally there was an answer that she never wanted to know.

xxxxx

Chloe turns herself inward toward Aubrey, burying her face into Aubrey's side, moving up onto her knees. She stays hunched there for a moment before propping herself up – looking two seconds away from falling right back down.

Aubrey looks at her – still wishing she knew the time. She needs to know how long they all keep dazing out until one of them moves, and drags them all back into reality for another few seconds. "Do we need to change positions?" She realizes she is probably the only one whose entire body is content to just not ever move again.

Chloe looks at her.

"Why are you up?" Aubrey asks.

"I have to go to the bathroom," Chloe answers.

"Oh. Okay." Aubrey nods. That means Aubrey has to get up. Again. She pushes herself to sit up, resting on Beca until she can pretend to herself that she's regained some strength. "Do you need help up?"

Chloe shakes her head, and gets herself up with help of the coffee table. She wraps her arms around herself, hugging herself, as she waits for Aubrey and Beca to get up too.

Aubrey's hand lingers a little too long on Beca's arm as she waits for the living room to stop spinning in circles around her. It never quite stills completely. But, she doesn't seem to be anywhere near as dizzy as Chloe, who stumbles one step like she's wasted then stops again.

"Let one of us help you," Beca says, and takes Chloe's arm, draping it around her shoulder. "Can you walk?"

Chloe nods and squeezes her eyes shut – a new wave of tears leaking down her face. "Everything is just moving," she chokes out, and moves her hand to her forehead. She nearly sinks back down to the floor, but Beca forces her to remain upright.

Aubrey places one hand on Chloe's back and the other on her shoulder. "The faster we walk to the bathroom, the sooner we can sit back down. Walk," she directs her firmly, because they need to sit back down, "Right now."

Chloe walks – using both of them to stabilize herself.

"Can you see okay?" Beca asks.

Chloe nods. "I just – I -I - I feel," she breaks off, sobbing, "mo- m- mo-"

Aubrey listens, trying to understand her.

"Motion sick," Chloe finally finishes her thought.

Motion sick. Aubrey isn't sure what else she can do for the nausea, because there is nothing she can do to lessen the dizziness. She helps Chloe into the bathroom, and Beca stops in the doorway. "Does it feel better when you're sitting down?"

Chloe doesn't answer her.

"Chloe?" Aubrey stands in front of her and tries to grab her attention back. "Do you feel better when you're sitting down?" She starts untying Chloe's pants for her.

Chloe stops crying – completely, suddenly.

"Aubrey," Beca says.

Aubrey looks at her.

Beca is just staring at Chloe.

Aubrey looks at Chloe's face – taken aback by the absolute lack of expression or movement. Like Chloe has suddenly turned to wax in front of her. She stops pulling at her pants strings to wave her hand in front of Chloe's face. "Hey." She snaps her fingers. Not even a blink.

"Chlo," Beca calls her, and starts to cause even more panic in Aubrey when her breaths draw short and she starts to tear up. "What is happening right now?" she asks Aubrey.

Aubrey has no fucking idea – especially when Chloe dissolves back into tears just as quickly as she stopped, like nothing ever happened.

Chloe shakes her head and unties her pants. "It just feels the same."

Aubrey subconsciously takes a step back to give her space – trapped in silence, not wanting to upset Chloe more. She walks over to the sink and roughly turns the water on, then splashes water on her face to cover up her panic. It gives her an excuse to bury her face in a towel as she tries to maintain any level of composure. She can't cry anymore – literally. Her body physically refuses. She finishes drying her face as Chloe washes her hands, screaming in her head instead of into the towel.

The walls of the bathroom feel like they're closing in around her – and she keeps the towel a few centimeters from her face to hide the fact that she can't get enough air into her lungs. Someone tries to put a hand on her back, Beca or Chloe, she's doesn't know; she turns and steps away from them, hiding with her arms shielding her face, her forehead pressed against the bathroom wall, instead. She has to keep it together for Chloe – the pressure of that suffocating her like a pillow. Everything on her hurts so god damn much, and she has to pretend like it doesn't, because Chloe is hurting so god damn much, and she forces herself to take deep breaths – in and out, in and out, in and out – her chest heaving with every gasp.

Aubrey is dying. She's dying. She's sure of it. And Chloe is dying. And everyone else, besides Beca, is already dead. They're all dead. She's going to have to watch Chloe die too, isn't she? Because she could never let Chloe see her die first. Only, she's sure she's dying right now – right against the tiles on some stranger's bathroom wall. She presses her hands flat against the ceramic and starts shaking her head – deaf to whatever Beca is suddenly trying to tell her in her ear. The only thing she can hear clearly is Chloe crying behind her.

She knows it's her fault when Beca finally steps away from her in a state of panic too.

It's Chloe who pulls her away from the wall and engulfs her in a bone-crushing embrace. Chloe, who just spaced the hell out, who forgot where she was, who can barely walk, who Aubrey is supposed to be tending to. "Aubrey, sweetheart, breathe. Breathe," she hums in her ear, still crying herself, "You're okay." She draws in a deep breath that expands herself chest against Aubrey's, then releases it, and does it again, and again, and Aubrey can physically feel how close Chloe is to breaking down with her.

Aubrey's throat is dry, and her lungs hurt. She needs Chloe to be okay. She needs Chloe's skin not to feel so heated against hers. She needs to know that Chloe isn't going to die in front of her eyes. She feels tingly, everywhere, as she starts to match the rise and fall of Chloe's chest – each breath a struggle until it isn't anymore, and her knees nearly buckle. Neither of them move. Aubrey feels light inside her body – and not in a pleasant way. Like if Chloe releases her, she might float away. Like if she doesn't breathe with her, she might not breathe at all.

"Chloe, your nose is bleeding," Beca says, her voice shaking.

That makes Aubrey pull back.

Chloe lifts her hand to her nose then pulls it back and looks at the blood smeared across her fingers.

The only time Aubrey has ever seen Chloe with a nosebleed was once when she apparently smashed her face on her desk, trying to do god-knows-what while convincing her mother that Aubrey was a terrible person.

Chloe stares at the blood for a moment longer then pinches her nose shut with her fingers.

Nobody says anything.

Aubrey places her hands on Chloe's shoulders and guides her woozily from the bathroom to the couch – because she cannot sit on the floor anymore. This is too much. Her mind feels numb, empty. She doesn't even process the time between the bathroom doorway and sitting down sideways beside Chloe as Beca grabs a clean towel.

Chloe sits crisscross, leaning sideways into Aubrey, as Aubrey takes over pinching her nose with the towel. It isn't bleeding much – but it shouldn't be bleeding at all. It shouldn't be bleeding at all. It's still bleeding when Aubrey checks it again.

"Chloe, I love you." Aubrey feels like she can't say it enough times. All this time, she spent so long not saying it, because she was scared that Chloe was gone from her life romantically. All this time, she could have been telling her regardless, because it didn't occur to her how quickly Chloe could be gone altogether. She could have said it a thousand more times – so many times, she'll never make up for it, even if they end up okay. "Everything is going to be fine."

Chloe curls into her – grimacing in pain. "I love -"

Something beeps.

It isn't loud, but all three of them hear it.

Aubrey sits up straight to look around.

"I think it came from the kitchen," Beca whispers.

Only one of them is available to go check.

If they've been found...

If it's a trap...

Beca slowly steps back and peers into the kitchen. "Dude, Aubrey." She turns back to them. "The microwave clock is blinking. It's turn on." She looks again. "I hear the refrigerator."

What? "Try the light," Aubrey tells her before she even fully processes Beca's words.

Beca reaches into the kitchen and flips the light switch.

Aubrey stares, frozen and slack-jawed.

The power is back on.

And I don't know where to look;
My words just break and melt.
Please, just save me from this darkness.
Please, just save me from this darkness.