96itadakimasu96: That's the fun of writing in limited POV. You only get answers as Aubrey gets them.
FromTumblr: Beca's thoughts are something I'll delve into later on.
Pixie1913: It's hard to deal with that right off the bat.
G: Painful, indeed.
Wanderer: I don't get the point. You clearly have a problem with the way I write Aubrey. That's fine. Maybe you just don't like Aubrey at all. I don't know. But I am telling you that your reviews bother me, and I am asking you to leave me alone. No one is forcing you to read my work. No one is making you agree with the way I wanted to write Aubrey. You're choosing to interfere with something I enjoy doing with negative feedback like this is Yelp. You know I'm feeling bad over what you're saying, and yet you're continuing on with it when I want you to stop.
Mwallace: Thank you.
SunDanceQT: Thanks!
Vickstik: Julia does know, and, yes, Aubrey will eventually find out.


Dysrhythmia


I was your anger,
And you were my fear.
Now that it's over,
Of course, it's so clear.
- Goo Goo Dolls


Aubrey can't just make all of this go away. What does Beca expect? For her to snap her fingers, and suddenly everyone will decide to lay off? If she's being completely honest, their best bet is being deemed too traumatized to speak about it. It's either that – or face it head on. Just stand up, walk out of the room, and give the police a full rundown of everything that happened. Be a Posen about it. Just fucking do it.

"Aubrey."

"I'm thinking," Aubrey mumbles into her arm.

What if an evaluation is called for, and they just don't speak for that either?

What will happen to them then?

The problem that Aubrey sees with this is that withholding information could prevent the police from finding Jesse, and from making an arrest.

"Okay, well, can you think where I can see you?" Beca asks.

Aubrey doesn't want to be seen trembling in pain. She sniffles and shakes her head, even though Beca can't see it. "I think better when I can't see your face."

Beca inhales and exhales a loud, deep breath. She walks across the room, then sits down on the edge of the bed. "If you're not going to come out, I'm going to come in," she warns her, and peels the blanket back enough to slide underneath it. "Why do you get the comfortable bed and the comfortable blanket?"

Because Aubrey is injured, and Chloe's mom loves her.

"Never mind. Your pillow has a rock in it." Beca tries to adjust herself.

It's not a rock.

Beca gets comfortable – close enough to Aubrey that they're touching. It's a small bed. It's hard not to be touching. "What do we do?"

I don't know. Aubrey shudders as the bed moves underneath her.

Beca grabs her hand, and pulls it away from her face. "Should I call the nurse?"

Aubrey shakes her head and opens her eyes. "Why don't you want to talk to the police?" she whispers, even though they're alone in the room.

"I…don't know."

Aubrey doesn't believe her. She looks at her hand, realizing that it's still in Beca's. Maybe it's because then Beca would have to accept this is real. Or, maybe, like Aubrey, she feels like it's no one else's business to know. Or, maybe, it's a different reason entirely.

"Do you want to talk to them?" Beca asks.

Aubrey just wants answers of her own. She wants to get them, not give them. "I just want to go home." She doesn't know why she thought that's what would happen once they got off that island. Maybe because she couldn't process anything else in the moment. She doesn't even get to go home once she leaves here. She has to stay with Brian and Conrad, blocks from her own apartment. She slides her thumb up and down the side of Beca's hand, taking in the feeling her right hand still has.

"So, how do we do that?"

There is only one answer. "Talk to them."

Beca pulls her hand away to cover her face as she rolls onto her back with a groan.

"I don't know what else to tell you, Beca. Either you talk to them, or someone deems you incapable."

"Why can't everyone be like you, and deem me incapable right off the bat?" Beca mutters.

Aubrey almost smiles.

"What are you going to do?" Beca asks.

Aubrey has to tell them what happened. She has no other choice. She is not incapable. It's hard to breathe – and not because she's underneath a thick blanket with Beca sucking up all her oxygen. Because when she tries to put the things that happened into words in her head, it all comes rushing back full force.

"I don't think we're getting a choice on that eval," Beca says.

That makes it all worse.

"If you don't want to talk, why don't you want them to evaluate you and say you can't?" Aubrey asks.

Beca lifts her hands, raising the blanket a few inches away with them. It makes the space less stuffy for a second. "I don't know," she answers again, "Do you want that?"

"No."

"Why not?"

Aubrey is laying on her good arm, making shrugging impossible.

"Why not?" Beca presses her.

"What if they keep us here?" Aubrey asks, then clenches her jaw to stop her chin from trembling.

"Keep us here how?" Beca asks, "They're already keeping us here." She rolls back onto her side when Aubrey doesn't answer. "You mean like commit us?"

Aubrey fails to shrug again.

"It really got to you that we thought you were overreacting," Beca says, "Dude, it was a mistake to not believe you. You were right. You weren't crazy."

It's not that. It is that, but it's not that. It's that combined with how every word just keeps repeating on a loop in Aubrey's head, and how if she doesn't do something completely the right way, Chloe will die. "I don't want to stay here."

"You're not," Beca replies, "Why would they keep you here like that? You're not."

Aubrey nods like she believes her.

"You're overwhelmed," Beca says, "We're both just overwhelmed. Who wouldn't be?"

People who are 'just overwhelmed' aren't forced to take anti-anxiety medication and anti-depressants. Aubrey bets that Chloe's mom didn't ask for a psych consult for Beca while Aubrey wasn't around.

"They have no reason to hospitalize you, except for the fact that you're hurt."

Aubrey nods again, fear clawing at her lungs.

"Why are you afraid of this?" Beca asks.

"I'm not."

"You are."

Aubrey shakes her head. "I am not afraid," she says slowly, controlled, "I just…"

Beca arches her brows.

I just want Chloe. "I told you, I just want to go home." I just want Chloe. I just want Chloe. Stop. Chloe might not have the answers, but at least Aubrey would be able to talk to her. I just want Chloe. I just want Chloe. Stop. Stop. Stop. Chloe is not going to wake up. Yes, she is. She is going to wake up. But what if she doesn't? Ever? She turns her face toward the bed, hiding it between the mattress and her arm. Her face feels hot from her breath getting trapped and the tears welling up in her eyes. Chloe is going to wake up. She can't be gone forever.

Aubrey takes a few breaths to keep herself roped in.

"Do you want me call Chloe's mom back?" Beca asks.

Aubrey shakes her head. "No." She wipes her face. "I'm fine. I just need to sit up." She pulls the blanket down from over their heads, and balls it up as she sits.

"How is this more comfortable than lying down?" Beca asks, as Aubrey leans over the table with the blanket as a pillow again.

Because when Aubrey is sitting up, there isn't any pressure on her shoulder, and her other arm isn't falling asleep from putting her weight on it. It isn't that comfortable. It just hurts less. She has to find a way to push through the pain, and if that means sitting up when she wants to lie down, so be it.

Beca sits up too, and tries to occupy the rest of the table space with her arm to rest her head on. "I vote we just sit here and do nothing."

"We can't do nothing."

"We can. We're doing it right now."

"I'm thinking right now," Aubrey tells her.

"How's that going?" Beca asks.

Aubrey rubs the blanket between her fingers. They aren't exactly overrun by all their options. It's either talk or don't.

"You know what I think?" Beca asks.

"No, and I'd prefer if you just kept thinking it inside your head." The only thing Aubrey can think right now is that Beca talks too much.

"We just went through hell," Beca says, "I think we should do whatever the hell feels easiest."

"We can't do something just because it's the easy thing to do," Aubrey argues.

"Why not?"

"Because it's not right." Jesse deserves to be caught and prosecuted, and they can help with that.

"Neither is pushing ourselves to the brink trying to piece everything together for everyone else," Beca says, "What happened, happened. We can't change it, and if we were dead, they wouldn't even have a name to go off of. If you don't want to end up staying here, stop trying to push yourself so fucking hard. Just rest and do what's easy for once."

"I want him to pay for what he did." That might not happen if Aubrey does what's easy. "I want him to suffer for what he did to Chloe."

Beca lifts her head. "Okay, but Chloe would be telling you to take it easy right now. Instead of doing what you want for Chloe, how about doing what Chloe would want for you?"

Aubrey stares down at the blanket.

"Take something for the pain," Beca says, and presses the button for the nurse, "And just stop for a second."

Aubrey cannot just stop. She opens her mouth to reply, but the nurse walks in, and Beca requests something for the pain that Aubrey is in. She waits until the nurse leaves, then looks at Beca. "I think…my brother was involved somehow. Brian said the police were questioning him."

"That would explain how he knew so much about you," Beca says.

"My father is working to cordon off the island," Aubrey says, "I'm going to talk to my brother tomorrow."

"Oh my god," Beca says, "You never rest. The police can handle this."

"I need to talk to him."

The nurse walks back in with a pill in a small plastic cup and a cup of water. "Here you go."

"Thank you." Aubrey takes it, then forces herself to drink all the water.

The nurse walks out after she swallows the pill.

"Why?" Beca asks.

"Brian didn't say which brother they're talking to, but I have a hunch they're talking to the wrong one," Aubrey answers.

"Why?" Beca repeats.

"Because I know my brothers."

"Is it safe for you to see him?" Beca tries to lay down, frowning when her head touches the pillow, "Dude, why is there a rock in your pillow?"

Aubrey pulls the bag out from underneath her pillow and places it on the floor next to the bed. "Why wouldn't it be safe to see my brother?"

"You said your dad hit you," Beca answers, lowering her voice.

Every muscle in Aubrey's body tenses. She had thought they were going to die when she said that. It was never supposed to be brought up again. "What does that have to do with my brother?"

"If your brother was involved in this, how do you know this is a good idea? What if he gives away where we are?"

Aubrey sighs and lies down next to her again now that the pain is fading. "Beca, my brothers are the stupidest people on Earth."

"I thought you thought that was me," Beca comments.

"It's a very close race," Aubrey tells her, "If they're involved in this, they're not smart enough to know what they're doing."

"I'm kind of offended I don't hold the title."

"Stop talking. If they wanted to kill a bunch of people, the only way they'd know how to do it would be to line everyone up execution style."

"Why doesn't that make me feel better?" Beca asks.

"Because they're still the type of people who would kill somebody," Aubrey answers, "Well, one of them…"

"Not the other one?"

"I don't know." Maybe things changed in the years since Aubrey last saw them.

"Did you ever think they were going to kill you?"

Aubrey shakes her head. "It wasn't like that." She never once feared being murdered.

"What was it like?"

Aubrey rubs her thumb along Chloe's ring. It was exhausting. Confusing. Unpredictable. Lonely… "It wasn't that bad." She turns on her good arm again, facing Beca. "You survived what you said about your mom."

Beca stares up at the ceiling. She laughs and presses the heels of her hands to her eyes. "She didn't."

Both of Beca's parents are dead.

"I'm sorry," Aubrey says.

"Are we bonding right now?" Beca asks.

"No." Definitely not.

"I think we are," Beca argues, rolling to face her, "I think there's something happening between us."

"Beca, the only thing I want between us," Aubrey replies, "is a wall."

"And it sounds like you're the nice one in your family."

Aubrey never really thought about that, but she guesses if someone were to rank her family in order of kindness…

"I seriously think we should just do nothing," Beca says again.

Aubrey doesn't agree, but the door opens, and she shuts down.

The past several minutes are over.

She doesn't think. Doesn't process what's going on.

Her body just seizes up, and she finds somewhere deep inside of herself to hide – somewhere alone where none of this is happening.

"You've had time. Are you ready to answer some questions?" Marc asks.

"I said no," Beca snaps.

And Aubrey doesn't say anything at all.

Does she want to do what she is expected to do, even though it's difficult?

Yes.

Is she ready to replay everything that happened – to voluntarily think about it?

No.