x

Dysrhythmia

You can't run, run, run,
From the smoking gun,
Caught in the crosshairs,
Of the things we've done.
There's no hiding place,
Not a secret safe.
- Sam Tinnesz

"I can't believe you were serious about the whole waffle maker thing," Beca says as Conrad pulls up to Aubrey's apartment building.

Aubrey can't believe she's sharing the backseat with a giant Stegosaurus Beca purchased with arcade tickets. "I stay true to my word, Beca." She also needs to move her plants inside, but that's besides the point. It's about the waffle maker now.

"So you're really going to cook waffles just to not give me any?"

"Mhm."

Beca lets her head fall back against the seat. "I'm not even surprised."

"I'll come give you a hand," Julia says as they get out of the car.

"I'll be driving around the block," Conrad tells them, "Just hail me like a taxi when you're done."

"I'm not hailing you like a taxi." Aubrey shuts the door.

"A hitchhiker?" Conrad calls through the open window.

Aubrey ignores him and makes her way into the building. "Have you heard from Dad?"

"Yeah." Julia smiles at the mention of him. "He texted earlier to say he's a few hours away. He'll stop by and get you on his way to the hospital."

Aubrey doesn't miss how she says 'you' instead of 'we'. "You're not going?"

"Not tonight. Do you have anything you need besides the waffle maker?"

"The plants are still outside," Aubrey answers and lets them in, "Is it because of Daniel?" She can't imagine that Julia just doesn't feel like seeing Chloe.

"Everybody is already on edge," Julia says, "Daniel causing a scene is not going to do anything to help that – and it's definitely not going to benefit Chloe. He has every right to see his sister, but…it needs to be under controlled circumstances. Go do what you need to do." She unlocks the balcony. "I'll put the plants by the kitchen window, okay?"

xxxxx

Aubrey ends up standing in her bedroom doorway with one single dumb thought running through her mind. This isn't where you keep the waffle maker. Everything is, once again, exactly where it should be – like a portal to the past that she can just step inside and everything will go back to the way it was. She's read books where people talk about the death of someone close to them; they always mention seeing something like a coat hanging from the back of a chair or shoes kicked off in the walkway and it feels like the person who died had just been there. It's strange feeling that way, staring at her own things – like she's a ghost or something. But, if she wants to get all philosophical about it, she is a ghost. Because the Aubrey who used to live in this apartment is dead and she will never be that same person again. Ever.

She takes a breath and steps through the threshold to do a more detailed sweep of the room, looking for anything she might want to take with her. All of it. She just wants to stay here. But she kind of gets it – why she's being forced to keep her distance. It's more than just the extra tension it would create between her as Beca; she wouldn't be able to move forward. She would just keep trying to exist in this illusion of the past.

It's not even noon, but the energy she managed to muster that was supposed to last the entire day begins to trickle away. She places a hand on the dresser to steady herself.

"Aubrey, you almost ready?" Julia calls from the living room.

"Coming!" Aubrey slides her hand across the wood as she turns around and knocks down the stupid Mickey Mouse shaped trinket box she spent $20 on at a hotel in Disney World as a kid. The lid falls off. The lid always falls off. Cheap piece of tin junk. She stares down at it, annoyed, then goes through the pain of bending over to pick it up and place the necklace it contained back inside of it. Only instead of putting the necklace back inside, she wraps the chain around her fingers and looks at the little key charm.

"That's pretty."

Aubrey jumps at the sound of Julia's voice.

"Sorry."

"I didn't hear you walk down the hall." Aubrey grabs the box and the lid and places them back on the dresser. She stops herself again just as she's about to drop the necklace back inside.

"Do you want to wear it?" Julia asks.

"It's a little difficult to put on with one hand."

"I guess it's a good thing I have two. Come here."

Aubrey drops the necklace into Julia's open palm before she can talk herself out of it then regret it later tonight when she feels alone trying to sleep. It dawns on her for the first time why Chloe prefers sleeping with Sam the Bear even when she's not alone in bed. It's about that extra comfort it provides.

Julia spins Aubrey around so her back is to her then places the necklace around her neck. A chill runs down Aubrey's spine followed by a strong sense of Déjà Vu and vertigo. "There. Let's go get the waffle maker so you can continue tormenting Beca." She gives Aubrey's arm a squeeze then backs out into the hall a few feet.

The sensation renders Aubrey temporarily motionless. It's like she stood up too fast – so fast that mind is taking a moment to catch up to her body. It's the strangest sensation she's ever felt. It leaves her feeling disconnected when it passes.

"Do you need to sit down for a second?" Julia asks.

"Maybe."

"Take it easy. I'll go get the waffle maker."

Aubrey sinks down into her desk chair and watches her go then leans forward and places her head in her hand. She just needs a second to breathe. And maybe some Tylenol. Definitely some Tylenol. Or Motrin. Or Advil. Or whatever she comes into contact with first. That means getting back up. She heaves a sigh. The bathroom feels even farther away now than it does at 2am when she wakes up warm in Chloe's bed because she has to pee – and it seems pretty damn far when that happens.

Get up, Aubrey. Quit dillydallying.

She places her hand flat on her desk and hoists herself to her feet. Her body protests, but she pushes past it and turns into the hallway then into the bathroom. The only bottle that isn't a push and twist cap is the Tylenol. She lines up the little arrows then flips the top off with her thumb. "You've gotta be fucking kidding me," she mumbles. Who just puts the empty bottle back in the cabinet? That's a stupid question. Aubrey knows exactly who puts empty medication bottles back in the cabinet. Chloe. She slams the bottle down on the sink counter.

"Thanks a lot, Chloe," she mumbles in the direction of her bedroom. She stares out the doorway for a second, half expecting her to appear with an expression of confusion and guilt. The hallway remains quiet. Aubrey is about to toss the bottle in the trash where it belongs when she stops and puts it back where it was instead. It reminds her Chloe was recently here that way.

There's a thermometer on the bottom shelf, and she grabs it then sits down on top the toilet lid. She just needs to stop sitting down and then getting back up wouldn't be a problem. It's too late now. She slides the tip of the thermometer under her tongue then closes her eyes and leans her head sideways against the counter as she waits for it to beep.

"What's the verdict?" Julia asks when she pulls it from her mouth and lowers it to her lap to read the numbers.

"Not pregnant." Aubrey turns toward the sink to rinse off the part that was in her mouth.

Julia breathes a laugh. "Let me see," she says motioning for it with her fingers.

Aubrey reluctantly hands it over.

"Mm." Julia wrinkles her nose with a pitying hum that feels a lot like disappointment. "Aubrey."

"It's not that bad. It was worse before. It's not even 101."

"That doesn't mean that it's good. And you must be feeling off if you're in here taking your temperature."

"I just…felt weird for a second," Aubrey admits.

"Weird?"

There isn't really a better way to put it so she just looks down at her lap and nods.

Julia rinses the thermometer and puts it back for her. "Let's go rest off the mall then maybe you'll feel better."

Yeah. Maybe.

xxxxx

Try as Aubrey might to make it go away with fever/pain reducers and an afternoon nap, the feeling lingers. Maybe it's anxiety. In a way, it feels a lot like anxiety. She drags through the rest of the day with it until Noah calls to say he's close and will pick her up on the way to the hospital.

"Are you sure you don't want to go?" she asks Beca. Julia has already decided not to go. Without Beca, it's going to be just her and Chloe's dad and brother. Not that she would mind that on a normal day, but nothing right now is normal.

Beca barely glances up from Mario Kart. "I'm just going to be standing out in the hallway alone."

"Or you could go in and see her."

The game ends as Beca crosses the finish line in first place. She drops the controller beside her then rubs her face.

"Are you going to refuse to see her when she wakes up too?" Aubrey asks.

"I don't know."

"What about when she comes home? How are you going to manage to avoid her then?"

Beca raises her shoulders in an extended shrug as she falls back against the couch cushions. "I don't know. We don't even know if she's coming home. I might not even be here then."

"She is coming home."

"Aubrey, even if she wakes up, we don't even know if she's going to be okay. They said she has brain damage and no one can even tell us what that means."

"It could be temporary."

"Or it could be permanent. Have you thought about if you have the spend the rest of your life feeding her or changing her diapers?" Beca sighs and sinks deeper into the couch.

Aubrey touches her pocket, feeling the outline of the ring. She considered keeping it in the case, but it's not exactly like she's going to be getting down in one knee. "If that's the case, then I'll do it. She would do it for me." Or so Aubrey would like to think… Truth is, Chloe loves life too much to be tied to someone that doesn't even know she's there. Aubrey wouldn't want her to be tied to that – nor would she want Chloe to be feeding her or changing her diapers. She'd rather be dead than live life like that. But, still, to think someone might love her that much to do that for her… She looks at Beca. "I get it. You're scared. But you're being selfish."

"That's rich coming from you," Beca mutters.

Aubrey scoffs and draws her knees up to her chest. "How am I being selfish right now? Tell me."

"You don't even know if she wants to live like that," Beca says, "I wouldn't, and you wouldn't either. You specifically asked me to kill you if you were suffering. If I were in her place, I'd want them to pull the plug now."

"It's not like she's on a ventilator."

"Whatever. I wouldn't want to be in a coma for God knows how long or to come out of it like that just so someone could feel like I'm still around. Did you buy that ring for her or for you?"

"You won't even look at her. All that time and effort she poured into you, and you won't even step into the same room with her because you're scared."

"Then maybe we both suck." Beca picks up the controller again.

Aubrey reaches over and slaps it out of her hands. She waits while Beca bends over to pick it up, then once she's sitting back, she hits it to the floor again and Beca's hands fall to her lap. "You know Jesse might be dead?"

"Good."

"Good?" Aubrey asks.

"Yeah, good. Did you forget what he did?"

"You were supposed to be married to him. You don't talk about him or what he did. Or the fact that your marriage is over."

"It never actually began," Beca deadpans, "And I told you, I never loved him."

"Then why are you still wearing the ring?"

That gets her. Beca opens her mouth to speak but nothing comes out except a sharp exhale.

There's a knock on the door and Aubrey turns, her whole body tensing up as Julia walks into the room to answer it. Noah must have texted his arrival, Aubrey reasons. Julia's phone is in her hand and she's the one walking to answer the door instead of Conrad. But still, she doesn't relax until the door is open and she can see him standing outside.

"You ready, Champ?" He peers in at her as he wraps his arms around Julia.

Aubrey feels a pang in her chest. Chloe used to hug her like that – one hand on Aubrey's back, the other on the back of her head. She glances over at Beca and nods. "Let me get my shoes."

"And a jacket," Julia adds.

Not once breaking her stare, Aubrey repeats her. "And a jacket."

xxxxx

It's difficult to concentrate on Daniel and Noah trying to talk to her. She says a polite hello as she climbs into the backseat of the truck, hoping sitting back there will deter them from trying to make conversation. It doesn't – but after a few clipped responses on her end, they get the hint and turn on some music that keeps getting interrupted by the GPS.

"So, she's really not coming then?" Daniel asks about a quarter of the way there.

"No, she's not," Noah confirms.

"She's going to pass on seeing her own daughter in the hospital."

"Knock it off, Boy," Noah warns him.

"I guess she has Aubrey to replace her with."

Aubrey frowns.

"I said stop." Noah points a finger in his direction.

Replace her… Aubrey wraps her arm around her mid-section and stares at the space beyond the center console. She could never replace Chloe. Not to her parents. Not to anybody. That's like saying Aubrey is trying to replace her with Beca just because tragedy threw them together after taking Chloe away from her. Beca's presence might be comforting, albeit irritating, but that could never happen. "Why would you say something like that?"

"Aubrey." This time Noah is warning her, and she leans in closer to the door, away from the front seats. "If you engage with this, I will take you home." He looks at her through the mirror.

Aubrey looks at her hands then turns to stare out the window in silence. Looking outside lessens some of the motion sickness. She doesn't remember Daniel being an asshole last time she saw him, but his parents also never came up once in conversation. It makes sense as to why she's never seen him at family gatherings though. But she always thought he was just busy.

"Why would you want to live in a place like this?" Daniel asks, "There's all these people here."

Aubrey glances his direction, but she isn't sure whether answering that question would be considered 'engaging' in something or not, so she just chooses to ignore it. Sure, Queens has a lot of people, but it's not like she has to talk to them all or anything. It's kind of perfect really – a place with plenty of people for Chloe to talk to who also find Aubrey's bluntness, brutal honesty, and 'too busy for small-talk' attitude completely respectable.

"And it smells."

Aubrey rolls her eyes. It doesn't smell. At least not in the area she lives in anyway – nor does it smell where Brian and Conrad live either. "Maybe that's your breath." So much for not engaging.

Daniel covers his mouth and nose with his hand and breathes. "Maybe. So, whose idea was it not to tell me what happened?"

It takes a moment for Aubrey to realize he's still talking to her. How the hell is she supposed to know? She can barely remember the conversation had about him finding out. "Your family drama hasn't exactly been on the forefront of my mind," she tries to shut it down, "And I don't feel like thinking about it now either."

"Leave her be," Noah instructs.

"Or what?" Daniel asks.

Or what? Aubrey stares at the back of his seat for a moment before lifting her foot and kicking it. Even Beca isn't this bad.

"You're just going to let her do that?" Daniel asks.

"Yes, I am," Noah answers.

"That's not fair. You just told us both to stop."

"What are you, eight years old?" Aubrey asks.

"Says the person kicking the back of my seat."

"Yeah, and I'll do it again."

"You're very on edge," Daniel observes.

Aubrey can't do anything but breathe a laugh and start rubbing her forehead to rid herself of the headache this is giving her. On edge. Of course, she's fucking on edge. She sucks in a deep breath and sighs it out, overpowering the music with the sound of her exasperation. "Did you guys really catch a giant alligator and manage to paint its foot to print on the boat?" Maybe if she just changes the subject as far away from anything stressful as possible, she can get through the rest of the ride without trying to jump out of the moving vehicle.

"Oh yeah, that was fucking awesome," Daniel says, "It took both of us sitting on it to hold it down."

"Weren't you worried about getting eaten?"

They're both quiet for a moment before Noah asks, "Do you know what I do for a living?" When Aubrey doesn't answer, Daniel bursts out laughing at her.

"Chloe never told me," Aubrey admits, "She said you do mechanical stuff sometimes. And you build things."

"That's just a hobby," Noah says.

"You didn't think to ask?" Daniel inquires.

"I think my job scares Chloe," Noah says, "I run a reptile sanctuary. Got a few locations. One in Brooklyn, actually, so we're set with staying here awhile. But, yeah, alligators, venomous snakes, you name it. You know what's real cool? I bet you didn't know that alligators climb trees. But they do. They can climb higher than you'd think too."

"So you work with alligators every day, for a living…" Aubrey confirms.

"I told you I'm the black Steve Irwin."

"I thought you were joking," Aubrey admits.

"Do you think I would be out in the swamp, catching alligators on a boat untrained?"

"That's what Mom makes it sound like," Aubrey replies.

"You got a point there," Noah says, "But did Steve Irwin get eaten by a crocodile?"

"He got stabbed by a stingray."

"Exactly."

"Which is actually way more tragic and unexpected…"

"That's not the point you're supposed to take away from this. But speaking of the ocean, you know what this Brooklyn sanctuary's got? Sharks. I'm thinking…cage-diving."

"Chloe is in a coma and you're thinking about cage-diving," Daniel states.

"And what've you been doin'?" Noah asks.

"Not that," Daniel answers.

Noah grunts. "I know what you've been doin'." He pulls into the hospital parking lot. "And I ain't happy about it."

Aubrey barely waits for the wheels to stop spinning before she opens the truck door and steps out into the fresh air. She breathes in deep and exhales some of the claustrophobia. This would be better if it were just her and Noah. She's already decided she's going to call Brian to come pick her up. Noah is going to have to take Daniel home or to his hotel or wherever it is he's going after this anyway.

"How about you stay out here and get some air for a minute," Noah suggests, "You can get some alone time with Chloe once Daniel's had his time with her."

Air sounds wonderful. She'd rather be alone with Chloe anyway. Aubrey slouches against the back of the truck, half-heartedly demanding better posture from herself as they walk toward the hospital without her. It doesn't hit her until they're out of sight that she's completely alone outside. No protection. No Beca. The sound of a car door slamming a few parking spaces down causes her to turn around. She's being ridiculous. Prior to this, she enjoyed having time alone. It was, dare she say, relaxing. Now she's tugging at the front of her jacket, looking around to make sure no one is hiding behind any nearby vehicles like she has a paranoia problem.

"Aubrey, are you okay?"

Aubrey startles and whirls around.

Nora is standing a few feet away with a briefcase and her keys in her hands. "Are you alright?" she asks again.

"Yeah." Aubrey places her free hand on the truck and tries to act casual, which, unfortunately, is usually what gives her away. "Have you heard any updates on Chloe?"

"No, I'm sorry." Nora smiles sympathetically at her. "Do you wanna talk to somebody, Aubrey?"

"No." Aubrey turns so her back's against the side of the truck bed, making it impossible for them to fully see each other, and digs the tip of her shoes into a crack in the cement. "I just wanted to know if there were any new updates."

"We can go inside," Nora suggests and puts her keys in her pocket, "I actually have something I wanted to give to you in my office."

"Is that how you lure people into therapy who don't want to be there?" Aubrey asks.

"I'm not a therapist," Nora replies, "I'm not a psychiatrist. I'm a resource. I can get you those things if you want them or I can listen to you, but my job is more than that. Anything you need medically, psychologically, financially, that type of thing, I'm the person who makes that happen – and, like it or not, when you got transferred here from Seattle, you were placed under my care. So, until you fire me, I'm going to keep asking: Do you need anything?"

Aubrey turns and pulls the door handle. Locked.

"How is your stomach doing?" Nora tries again, "You were pretty sick the other day. Is the medication helping? Because we can change it if we need to."

"You're fired."

"In order to make that official, you're going to need to sign some documents," Nora says, "And those papers are in my office."

Of course. It would be too easy to say something and just have it be. Aubrey laughs then slams the heel of her hand against the truck door. "So, what, I just sign them and you go away?"

"Yeah, pretty much," Nora answers, "For you anyway. The rest of your family will still have access to the services I provide. If that's what you want to do, we can do it now. Or I can give you something from my office and you can think it about for awhile."

"Aren't you on your way out?" Aubrey points out.

"My house will still be there later," Nora replies. She nods toward the main entrance. "Come get out of the cold. The faster you humor me, the faster I go away."

Aubrey is cold – be it from the weather or because it feels impossible to really get warm anymore. She studies the truck door for a second like it's interesting then slowly and reluctantly pushes herself away from it to follow her inside. It isn't exactly that much warmer in the lobby – though Nora tugs her jacket off like it is.

"Stairs or elevator?"

Both have their pros and cons, and Aubrey decides she would rather have an increase in pain than an increase in nausea. "Stairs."

"Stairs it is."

There are fewer people on the stairs than there are waiting for an elevator, which is both a pro and a con. For a few minutes, she and Nora are the only people in the stairwell at all. The emptiness is eerie and the lack of exits between each floor is nerve-wracking in the same way getting stuck in the elevator might be. Then a door somewhere above them opens and Aubrey has to resist the urge to turn around and bolt to the previous floor until a guy in blue scrubs eating a sandwich passes them in the opposite direction, paying no mind to them at all. Her heart is thudding for no reason. Stupid.

"It's this floor," Nora says once they get to the next one and holds the door open for her. They walk down the hall and through a few doors that can only be opened with a keycard then eventually turn in to some sort of dimly lit lobby area. It's clear they're closed for the evening, but that doesn't deter Nora from leading her through another door and a carpeted hallway that leads to her office. "Have a seat."

It probably would have been quicker to use the elevator than have to go the scenic route, Aubrey realizes dully and sits down in a chair on one side of the desk.

Nora walks over to a shelf full of things before joining her. "This is for you." She slides a notebook and a pen across the desk toward Aubrey as she sits down.

"What am I supposed to do with this?" Aubrey flips through the empty pages.

"Anything you want."

That's too broad. "You want me to journal about what happened."

"You can."

Aubrey taps her fingers on the notebook's cover.

"Some people don't want to talk," Nora says, "And that's fine. But we all need a space to be open." She pulls a sheet of paper out of her desk drawer. "This says you were receiving services under me but no longer want them. It also says that you understand you're free to change your mind at any time. Are you sure this is what you want to do?"

She even has a new pen to do it with. Aubrey scribbles her signature across the bottom of the page. "I'll see myself out. Thank you for your time." She caps the pen as she stands, pushes in her chair, then leaves through the main exit where she doesn't need someone with a key card to let her through the door. There's a trashcan across the hall and she storms over to it – stopping seconds away from chucking the notebook inside to ask herself what she's doing.

Truth is, she has no idea.

Aubrey Posen's Rule Book and Instruction Guide to Life has become outdated. This lifelong game of Solitaire that she has meticulously mastered to a fault has come to an end, leaving her to be thrust into an inescapable game of Mao, and she has never felt so lost.