FromTumblr: I really appreciate it. I struggle a lot financially, and anything really helps. That's enough to buy me 10 cans of cat food, so, my cat also thanks you.
Mwallace: And yet so far. Can you imagine her figuring it out now. That would be awful.
Ash: You can send me an ask on Tumblr about other ways to support me, if you want that. I love asks and reviews though.
Guest: The end game will be heavy Chaubrey. Part two is heavier on Mitchsen, since Chloe is unconscious. All of it is light Triple Treble. That's the best I can explain it.
Vickstik: Thank you.
G: Enough people have died...for now.
Rober428: As everyone should be.
Pixie1913: Everything with Conrad is an event. He, himself, is the event.

Dysrhythmia

Please, come now, I think I'm falling;
I'm holding on to all I think is safe.
It seems I found the road to nowhere,
And I'm trying to escape.
I yelled back when I heard thunder,
But I'm down to one last breath,
And with it let me say, let me say:
Hold me now,
I'm six feet from the edge, and I'm thinking,
Maybe six feet ain't so far down.
- Creed

Aubrey tries to stomach food, really, she does – but mostly, she just pokes at it and slides it around the plate with her spoon, while Chloe's mom sits behind her and brushes the knots out of her hair.

"When is the last time you've eaten?" Julia asks, running the brush back through a section of Aubrey's hair that has already been smoothed out.

Aubrey isn't sure how many days it's been since they were trapped in The Cannery, and Aubrey nibbled on some food – if that really counts as eating. The Cannery... They were just there.

"When is the last time you've had anything to drink?" Julia tries again.

"I don't know," Aubrey murmurs. It was whenever she last had something to eat – when Beca offered her some soda. No, she's pretty sure she had a few sips of water after that.

"Does that sound healthy that you don't know when you last had any sort of nourishment?" Julia asks.

Aubrey shakes her head.

"Is it because you've felt so sick?"

Aubrey nods – that and, before now, lack of time. It's hard to eat when you're trying to not get killed, but that's difficult to voice out loud.

"Do you know what makes stomach aches worse?" Julia asks in a delicate tone, "Dehydration. And hunger."

"She ate six days ago," Beca says, walking into the room, "Somewhat."

Aubrey looks up. "Where were you?" she asks, eyeing the plastic bag in her hand.

"That's a long time to go without food, Aubrey," Julia says.

That means, it's been five days since Aubrey has last seen Chloe. That's a long time not to see Chloe. And she has been unconscious for four days, so, those days shouldn't count seeing as how it's hard to eat when one isn't awake. The hospital clearly nourished her somehow, seeing as she's still alive.

"The gift shop," Beca answers, dropping the bag on her cot.

"All this time?" Aubrey asks.

"You didn't want me here," Beca points out.

Aubrey doesn't have time to retort, because Chloe's mom is already breaking things apart.

"Stop and think before you speak," Julia tells them, "Think 'will this set something off?' before you say it out loud."

"Dude, literally everything I say sets her off," Beca claims.

"Well, maybe you should just stop talking," Aubrey suggests.

Julia places the brush down and squeezes Aubrey's good arm. "Stop and think before you speak."

Aubrey pulls her arm away and glares at her food. "Don't touch me."

"Don't touch you or don't touch you like that?" Julia asks, and moves to rest her hand on the plate so Aubrey can't send it flying across the room again, "I'm sorry that I touched you in a way you didn't like."

Aubrey resists the urge to squirm away from her and try to push her to leave the room, because, no, she's not doing that right now. "That's a long time to be in the gift shop," she tells Beca, calming her tone, keeping her cool. Her body calms too as the brush starts running through her hair again.

"Not when your spying," Beca replies, "I'm serious, Aubrey, it's a madhouse out there of police, reporters…" She pulls a bottle of light green Gatorade from the bag, and places it on the table in front of Aubrey. "This looked absolutely disgusting and exactly like something you'd like."

"Stop," Julia enforces again, "This is a perfect example of where you should think before you speak. There is nothing preventing you from just saying, 'This looks like something you'd like.' The extra add-on is not necessary. It's really not."

Aubrey spins the bottle around, searching for the flavor. Lime Cucumber. That actually does sound like something she would like. She just frowns at Beca.

"I am glad that I raised kids who always got along," Julia says, "Because you two together are enough to drive a person to drink – and I haven't even experienced an entire twenty-four hours of it."

"I feel like that was unnecessary," Beca is quick to challenge her, and Aubrey bristles.

"That was honest," Julia replies, placing the brush down to run her fingers through Aubrey's hair.

"What's the difference?" Beca whispers.

Julia looks up at her with only her eyes. "Do not test my patience, either of you."

"You seem to have an exceedingly over the top amount of it," Beca points out and sits down on her cot.

"Exactly – which means I can outlast either of you in a battle of wills," Julia warns them, "So quit it while you still have the energy to keep going. Patient does not always have to mean pleasant."

Aubrey traces the tip of her finger around the ridged edge of the Gatorade cap – just looking at it. How is she supposed to function with only one hand? She can't even twist the cap off a bottle.

"Here, Bunny." Julia reaches around her and twists it open for her. "Drink it."

Aubrey takes a few reluctant sips, then tries to put it down.

"It's this or the IV," Julia says and stops her, "Which do you choose?"

This. It isn't like it tastes bad. It tastes good, actually. It just sits so heavy in her stomach – like she can feel it sloshing around in all the empty space. Maybe if she drinks, she can at least put off eating. She starts swallowing it in small amounts, pausing before it gets to be too much.

"Good girl," Julia says.

"What are the reporters saying?" Aubrey asks. She struggled enough being put on blast across social media – now there is the news, where everybody is going to be talking about her.

"They have no idea we're here," Beca answers, "They're still asking if there are any survivors. The hospital and the police keep trying to kick them out."

Aubrey nods. That makes her feel a little better. "And the cops?"

"They have no idea where to start. There is a manhunt out for Jesse, and that's all they're talking about. I think they're in shock. It's been days, and I don't think they've released any names. That's weird, right? No body count? No names? I haven't even seen anyone who looks like they might be someone's family."

Body count. "Maybe they took everyone somewhere else?"

"Well, it's good that they don't know you're here," Julia says, "Hopefully, we'll be in New York by the time they figure it out. Aubrey, your boss should be here soon to figure out the police business."

"He's coming here?" Aubrey asks.

"He said he'd be on the first flight as soon as you were awake," Julia says, "And I told him you were awake this morning. He said he'll be here by tonight – and I think he's bringing something special for you."

Something special for Aubrey? Aubrey barely even talks to the man besides: 'Yes, Sir', 'No, Sir', 'Here are those files you asked for, Sir', and 'How many creams do you want in your coffee, Sir?' She does a lot of listening and fetching, and, on rare occasions, if she's lucky, he asks for her opinion on something. Outside of that, it's just sorting through files and paperwork with Brian, alone. He already put her on paid leave, he's already helping her for free – what else could he give her?

Aubrey can't even think of anything she wants outside of for Chloe to wake up and to go home.

If only his money could buy Chloe's consciousness.

"Take a break for a few minutes," Julia says and takes the bottle from her to place it on the table, and Aubrey realizes she was just staring sickly into it, "Just drink a little at a time."

Aubrey nods and moves to lie down, resting her head on Julia's lap for a pillow since she's at the top of the bed, sitting in front of Aubrey's actual pillow. She's bored, and it feels wrong. But her head is in a thousand different places, and she needs a distraction – which also feels wrong. But what is there to do to help herself or Chloe? Just thinking about it all hurts. But it doesn't feel like she should be thinking about anything else.

"Have you ever had a cast before?" Julia asks.

Aubrey shakes her head.

"You've been missing out," Julia tells her, and motions for Beca's bag.

There is nothing about wearing this cast that makes Aubrey feel like she has missed out on anything. It's uncomfortable. It's itchy. She can't even dress herself properly or open a bottle…

Beca pulls out a pack of metallic colored markers and places them on Aubrey's stomach.

"Hm." Julia pauses after opening them then chooses pink and silver. "I'm going to write at this angle so to you it looks like 'MOM', but to everyone else it looks like 'WOW'." She winks at Aubrey, reminding her too much of Chloe.

Beca pulls a chair over and picks black. "I can draw an ambigram that looks like 'Beca' one way and 'Boob' upside down," she announces.

Aubrey frowns and tries to pull her arm away.

Julia takes the marker from her.

"I saw I could," Beca says and takes it back, "I didn't say I was going to." She uncaps the marker. "I was going to draw a penis."

Julia smacks the side of her head.

"Ow!" Beca covers her head, "What the hell, Lady?"

"Think," Julia reminds her, "And watch your language."

"You know, they could probably scan your head here," Aubrey tells Beca, "Then we can know if you just don't use your brain or if it doesn't exist at all."

"All done, Aubrey," Julia says, locking eyes with her, "That's enough."

Aubrey looks away. Think. Think. Think, Aubrey. She can insult Beca when they're alone. Think.

"You really don't like me," Beca comments, writing her name in clear, spaced out letters on Aubrey's cast.

"What makes you think that?" Julia asks, and also begins to write, in fancy cursive.

"Because she gets an 'all done, Aubrey', and I get hit upside the head."

"Would you have responded if I had told you all done?" Julia inquires.

Beca pauses her marker to think.

"That's what I thought."

"But Au-" Beca stops herself in the middle of Aubrey's name. She gives her marker a wry smile and shakes her head.

"Worked, didn't it?" Julia asks, and starts drawing flowers.

Beca has nothing to say to that; she just draws a radio and some music notes next to her name – keeping the same expression on her face.

Aubrey smirks on the inside.

"You have two hairline fractures," Julia changes the subject, "That must have been a hard fall."

Aubrey shakes her head, picturing Luke falling from the bridge again the moment she says the word 'fall'. It feels like she was just there, watching it happen. She tries to block it out. "Just…several of them."

"Ouch. That must have been very painful."

Aubrey watches her color the inside the pink petals of her flowers purple – imagining Luke hit the water below, holding Chloe so she would never have to replay that moment in her head the same way Aubrey will have to see all of it over and over again on an endless loop.

What was he doing? Aubrey could barely feel herself breathing, even though getting air was a struggle. She could barely feel herself rubbing Chloe's back.

Luke took several steps backward until he was against the rail of the bridge. He turned and climbed up onto it.

"Is he…?" Beca asked.

He was.

Luke climbed over the rail, stood on the edge of the bridge, and turned around to face them again.

And then he let go.

Beca tucked her face into Aubrey's shoulder.

And Aubrey watched him fall, unable to look away. Roughly two hundred feet down. Hitting the water like it was a slab of cement.

What must have been going through his head while he fell - knowing he was about to hit the bottom?

"Aubrey, are you listening?" Suddenly, the flowers have green stems and the 'O' in 'MOM' is colored yellow like the sun – and Beca has capped her marker completely. "You okay?"

Aubrey nods and rolls onto her good side, drawing up her legs. She stares at their names – and tries to remain in the present, but she can still see him in her head, letting go of the bridge, falling in slow motion.

"Let's try to get some more Gatorade in you," Julia suggests, and helps her to sit up.

Aubrey can hear him hit the bottom with a deafening smack – even though she isn't sure that they actually heard him. She takes the bottle when it's offered to her and forces down a few more swallows from it, pretending to be focused on her arm.

"What just happened?" Julia asks.

"Nothing." Aubrey places the bottle back on the table.

"Something just happened," Julia points out, "Your entire demeanor just changed. Does it have to do with what happened to your arm?"

Aubrey shakes her head. Aubrey's arm was an accident – just likes Chloe's head. She tripped over a fucking bear trap, and then Bumper pushed her to the ground – and she fell.

And she feels like she's falling right now too, at a slow, creeping pace, waiting to hit the bottom with that loud, fatal crack.