- Part 2 -
Dysrhythmia
I hear you say:
"My love is over, it's underneath, it's inside, it's inbetween.
The times you doubt me, when you can't feel,
The times that you question, 'Is this for real?'
The times you're broken, the times that you mend,
The times that you hate me, and the times that you bend.
Well, my love is over, it's underneath, it's inside, it's inbetween.
These times you're healing, and when your heart breaks,
The times that you feel like you've fallen from grace.
The times you're hurting, the times that you heal.
The times you go hungry, and are tempted to steal.
In times of confusion, in chaos, and pain,
I'm there in your sorrow, under the weight of your shame."
- Tenth Avenue North
Aubrey wakes up in a cold, dark, unfamiliar room – the fuzzy blanket tangled up around her doing very little to ease her shivering. She doesn't even have a chance to open her eyes before terror seizes her, a lone thought telling her she isn't supposed to be awake at all. She should be dead. She should be with Chloe. She stretches out her arm to touch the emptiness beside her, and her stomach drops. Chloe. Fear sucks the air from her lungs. She has to find her. She fights the blanket and her own aching body trying to sit up. "Chloe?" She's trapped – beneath the blanket, beneath gravity, and then beneath a set of hands that grab her and prevent her from rolling off the side of the bed. She fights them too, arching her back, trying desperately to get away.
"Aubrey," a soft, tired voice says her name, "It's okay. You're okay."
The blanket untangles from around her body and legs, and instead of being held down, Aubrey is pulled upright and into a sideways hug that keeps her from toppling over in another direction. The world immediately tips in the wrong way, and nausea hits her with the speed and force of a semi-truck. It feels like a tractor trailer ran over her whole body, and then backed over her again just to make sure it didn't miss anywhere.
"Put your head down. Go back to sleep."
The urge to obey and confusion mesh together, and her head ends up being eased onto their shoulder. She's reminded of Chloe – only she knows it isn't her. The familiarity is that of warmth and the way fingers are suddenly running through her hair, the sense of calm and everything being under control even if Aubrey feels completely out of it. The blanket wraps around her shoulders – tempting her even further to just sink into the embrace. But she can't. "Where's Chloe?" Her voice comes out as a hoarse whisper, as if she hasn't used it in years – and, no wonder, with how dry her throat feels. She can barely even swallow.
"I can't hear you. Can we see if you can keep some water down?"
Aubrey's stomach churns at the very thought of water. "I want to see Chloe," she tries to mumble more clearly, but she feels like she's in a haze – thick fog surrounding her. She knows where she is and what's happening right now, but she can't quite see it. She can't place where she is in relation to where she was before she woke up – only that it's not the same, and something is wrong with Chloe, she knows there is. This is a hospital, she realizes. "Right now," she demands.
"Okay, I know, Bunny. Can you please try to drink some water?"
That's why everything feels so…okay, even when it isn't. That's why Aubrey has so unwittingly let down her guard. Things start to sink in slowly - but only become more confusing. How did they get here? Why is Chloe's mom here? Chloe's mom shouldn't be here with her. Why isn't she with Chloe? She should be with Chloe. Chloe, who was hit in the head and unconscious. No one should be in this room with Aubrey, who is fine.
"If you're going to be awake, I need you to drink some water," Julia says, and eases her upright.
Aubrey shakes her head. Chloe's mom shouldn't be here.
"Yes. It's not a question now."
She shouldn't be here. "Get out," Aubrey flips immediately into fight mode - and then it's too late to be reasonable. She doesn't know how to be reasonable right now - and that makes it all worse.
"No thank you," Julia answers simply, gently, firmly - setting Aubrey off further.
The intensity of emotion rolls in like a freight train with a faulty air brake. "Get away from me." Aubrey pulls back, but Julia's arms tighten around her, holding her in place.
"We both know that isn't going to happen, but we can continue to go through this fight for the thousandth time, if that's what you need from me."
Why would Aubrey need that? With the amount of times they've had this fight, Aubrey would think she would just finally take a hint and leave her alone.
Aubrey struggles to break free, building her defenses back up brick by brick, as quickly as she can. She tries to push her, but one of her arms won't straighten, and something sharp jabs her when she tries to bend the other one. She manages to partially free herself through squirming, but she can't sit up on her own, and Chloe's mom catches her as she falls sideways. She can't sit up on her own. She tangles herself back up in the blanket and IV line and another wire that seems to be taped uncomfortably to the inside of her thigh as she tries to roll – not getting anywhere, just increasing her own pain in the process of attempting to escape.
Julia rolls her back over, and raises the back of the bed instead of trying to pick her back up – preventing her from flopping back down to get away. She leans over her and pulls the guardrail up on the other side of the bed, and suddenly there is nowhere to go. She has Aubrey confined to the bed. "Nobody is leaving this room right now - definitely not you."
"I don't want you here." Aubrey wants to scream, but she can't find it in her.
"That's okay."
"You're supposed with Chloe."
"Then who is going to be with you?" Julia asks.
"Chloe called for you," Aubrey tries a new tactic, panicking, "Over and over, and you're not even there. What kind of mother are you?" It doesn't work to push her away – and she isn't even sure why she wants her to leave to begin with - other than for Chloe. She fills herself with guilt from her words. But she should be with Chloe. They both should be.
"One that knows how to prioritize where I am most needed in the moment," Julia answers her.
Aubrey violently shakes her head, because she does not need her, then immediately regrets the dizzying movement. What if Chloe is dead? The thought comes out of nowhere. What if Chloe's mom is with Aubrey, because Chloe is dead. What if that's why she's here, because she's trying to tell her…? But she can't, because Aubrey is busy telling her she's a terrible mother. Everything comes to a standstill.
No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No.
"Are you all done?" Julia asks when she quiets down.
No. No. No. No. No.
Aubrey ducks her head and nods, clenching her jaw to keep it from trembling.
No. No. No.
"Aubrey…"
No.
No.
No.
Aubrey tries to brace herself – but a weight falls on top of her chest and starts crushing her.
No.
"I am not leaving this room. You are stuck with me," Julia says clearly, "So, if you're not going to drink some water, you can sit up and I can play with your hair or you can lie down and I can rub your stomach until you go back to sleep."
Aubrey internally shrinks at the prospect of either one of those things. "No."
"It was a this or that question," Julia tells her, "Not a yes or no. Your hair?"
Aubrey shakes her head again, not wanting to sit back up. Her body is done with moving. Chloe is dead. Chloe is dead. She's dead. Aubrey is alone, and Chloe is dead.
No.
No.
No.
"Okay," Julia says, not giving Aubrey the chance to say no to the other option – the even worse option, "Give me a minute."
Aubrey finally opens her eyes to look at her and see what she's doing – taken aback as she watches her pull her sleeves down and wipe her face. She has never seen her cry before, not even come close to crying. Aubrey realizes it's probably her fault. It is her fault. She's making this worse for everybody. Chloe is dead, and Aubrey is making everything worse - especially considering she should be dead with her.
Julia adjusts the blanket, Aubrey, and the wires attached to her, before looking at her.
Aubrey looks away then closes her eyes again – biting back a sound of protest as the back if the bed lowers back down, making her motion sick.
"Can I lie down with you?"
Aubrey recognizes it as an offer, and nods, because how is she supposed to say no now?
Julia lays down next to her, far warmer than the blanket. She adjusts the blanket over both of them, then places her hand on Aubrey's stomach, gently rubbing it, easing the nausea just barely.
Aubrey has to know…
She has to know right now.
"Is Dad with Chloe?" she asks, afraid to ask the real question. Is Chloe alive?
"He is," Julia replies, "We've been alternating."
Suddenly, Aubrey can breathe again - a little bit, anyway. Chloe isn't dead. She's alive. Everything is going to be fine, and it's all going to go back to normal as soon as they can go home. The sudden 180 of emotion is overwhelming.
"But, Dad and Beca are not…" Julia pauses. "Useful is a harsh word. They are not as effective in here as I seem to be. Dad is...rather inept, and I am starting to see that Beca is really good at escalation. So, it's mostly me here and him there."
Oh. So, it's her fault Chloe is without her mom. Of course, it is. But if Aubrey was awake before, she doesn't remember it. Aubrey pauses – a thousand more questions rolling through her mind, mostly ones regarding Chloe. "Mom?"
"What do you need, Baby?"
"Is Chloe awake?" Aubrey asks the next most dreaded one.
Julia is quiet for a few moments, still rubbing Aubrey's stomach. "No, she's not," she finally answers.
Aubrey's heart and lungs feel like they're failing - another emotional flip. "Is she going to wake up?"
"I don't know." Julia sniffles and stops rubbing Aubrey's stomach just long enough to wipe her face again. "They'll know more when the swelling in her brain goes down."
The swelling in her brain. Aubrey starts to shake. She expects to vomit, or even burst into tears. Instead, she just stays on the verge of both of them, her entire body quivering.
"Aubrey, look at me."
Aubrey would rather look anywhere else. She turns her head and opens her eyes again, looking at other places on her face to avoid making eye contact. It's helpful that it's dark.
"No matter what happens," Julia tells her, "We're in this together. At this point, you're as much ours as Chloe is, and Dad and I have you both, through all of it. We will not leave you alone in this. Okay?"
Maybe Aubrey should be alone… She isn't being particularly 'effective' either. She looks away again.
"Okay?" Julia stresses.
"Yes, Ma'am," Aubrey whispers the default answer.
"Do you think I am old, Aubrey?"
Aubrey grips on to the routine, and shakes her head.
"Then stop calling me that," Julia says and presses a kiss to her hair, "I love you. You're such a good girl."
Something finally feels normal - dizzyingly normal.
Aubrey is spinning around inside her own head.
She needs it to stop.
"Mom."
"Hm?"
"I want to go home," Aubrey whispers to her - like it's some top secret vulnerability that no one should ever be allowed to know.
"Go back to sleep for right now," Julia tells her, "I promise we're already working on it."