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Dysrhythmia

We shared the very same room,
The very same bed with love.
Bad night, she fell asleep;
I flew away and I'll never stop.
We cry every night,
And words are broken all the time.
Oh God, I'm faded out;
No more, no more straight lines.
- Barcelona

Aubrey isn't sure how long she stands there in the hallway staring at Daniel's back before he addresses her without turning around.

"She looks like she's sleeping."

"Where's Dad?" Aubrey asks.

That causes him to look. He glances over his shoulder like he's just now realized she's standing there then turns back to Chloe. "How'd they rope you into calling them Mom and Dad?"

"Are they all you care about?" God, Aubrey is sick of hearing his comments about them already. "Don't you want to know what happened to your sister?"

"No," Daniel answers bluntly.

Aubrey has to process that. No. "She always talks so highly of you; I'd never have imagined you-"

"You know that scar on her forehead?" Daniel asks, cutting her off before she has a chance to tell him exactly what she thinks of him, "She got hit with our pet rock. I was arguing with this asshat that came looking for our mom and he picked it up to throw it at me. She was standing behind me and he missed and hit her right in the head. There was blood everywhere. I see it all the time." He taps his temple. "Did you see her get hurt?"

"No. But I was there after." There was blood everywhere then too.

"How many versions of that do you want in your head?"

One is enough. One is too many. Aubrey can't even begin to imagine her being hit with a rock; even if she tried, her mind wouldn't let her. She feels unfocused just thinking about the idea of it and decides to cut him somewhat of a break.

"Did they say if she's going to come out of it?" Daniel asks.

"They're not sure," Aubrey answers, "They said there's swelling. There may be damage." She hugs the notebook to her chest and rubs the metal spiral with her thumb. Her lungs begin to hurt all of a sudden. Chloe cannot be gone. It's not possible. She was just right there, right next to her. It's not possible that she's never going to be there again. She looks up for Julia or Beca or something else not there to ease the terrifying grip of reality. But all she finds is the endless stretch of hospital hallways and the all-too-familiar emptiness that accompanies being alone. "Where's Dad?" she asks again.

"Don't you think it's weird that they're not in Florida with her?" Daniel asks.

"Chloe wants to be here," Aubrey replies.

"You want to be here. Chloe would do anything for you. They know that. Everybody knows that."

"Is there something you want to say to me?" Aubrey asks, "Or do you just get off on making everyone around you feel like shit?"

"You all should feel like shit."

"Why?"

"Because Chloe deserves better."

"Is that you? So much better than the rest of us?"

Daniel doesn't answer that – although Aubrey's pretty sure she knows what he would say if he did. He doesn't look smug about it though. He looks irritated.

"I'm doing my best," Aubrey says, all the while telling herself she has nothing to prove to this man she's only met once before, "I love Chloe. Your parents love Chloe. Maybe the problem is you."

"Maybe the problem is they took in strays to fill a void and taught Chloe to do the same." Daniel turns his back to her. "You know, while everyone else was rooting for you over Beca, I was rooting for Tom. See you later, Aubrey."

Aubrey watches him walk away, not really knowing how to respond to that. That might be one of the rudest things anyone has ever said to her. She turns and marches herself into Chloe's room, kicking the door shut behind her with her heel. "Your brother is fucking weird, Chloe." She doesn't know why she pauses and looks at her for some sort of response. The silence is deafening. "And he's an asshole. Tom? That's like someone rooting for Howie." If Chloe was awake, she would laugh at that, and maybe comment that it's a good thing they're with each other because neither of them has the best taste in men.

She lays the journal and pen down on a table and touches the ring in her pocket. Daniel was right about one thing. Chloe does deserve better. Better than Aubrey has given her in the past. If her best isn't enough, she'll just have to do better, and there's no time like the present. She can't just sit around waiting for her to wake up to make a better effort, especially with the chance she might not wake up at all. No, waiting for Chloe to wake up is an excuse, and Aubrey Posen does not, cannot, make excuses – especially not here, not now.

Maybe if this were a movie, it would be romantic as Aubrey slides her ring from Chloe's finger to replace it with a real engagement ring. But it doesn't feel romantic. It feels like something she should have done a long time ago – a missed opportunity. There's no excitement, no spark – just a few tears that she quickly wipes away with the palm of her hand. What should have been her greatest celebration has become her greatest apology.

There's a knock on the door. She drops the other ring into her pocket and, as much as she doesn't want to, calls for the person outside to come in.

Noah opens the door a crack and looks surprised to see her. "Where's Danny?"

"I don't know. He walked off."

"Which way?"

Aubrey motions down the hall.

"I love that boy, but he's going to drive me to drink."

The door closes and he's gone. Maybe Chloe's family isn't so perfect after all. It isn't a bad thing; in fact, it's kind of comforting. She can almost relax knowing that whatever baggage she has brought to the table is just a oversized suitcase compared to the U-Haul Chloe's brother is driving. If only Chloe could see her as she drags over a chair and collapses down into it, legs apart, head tilted back, slouching so far down she comes close to sliding right off. Anyone, even her father, could walk in at that very moment and see her sitting like a wastrel, and it wouldn't matter. All the rigid rules, the expectations that would only grow more stringent in 'the real word', feel like such a cruel joke when she could probably go out right now and rob a bank or something, and someone with the last name of Beale would be bailing her out of prison with just an 'I love you' and a very unhappy frown. That's not to say they don't have expectations. There's just room for error.

Chloe was right when once during an early morning run their junior year she told Aubrey parental love isn't behavior-based. She had quickly followed that up with, 'But mine kind of is, so if you want it, don't wake me up this early tomorrow.'

Aubrey doesn't have it in her to cry anymore, so she starts to laugh. "Go ahead, Chloe, tell me you told me so." She looks over at her and her giggles subside just as quickly as they started. It really does look like she's sleeping, like Aubrey could jostle her awake just like she always does. Now it's Beca who she wakes up in the morning; it's Beca who complains as she's dragged out of bed. It could be worse. It could be Howie. Or Tom. She shuts her eyes through the pain of laughing again, and she has to finally sit up straight so it hurts less to breathe.

"I'm losing my mind." Is that such a bad thing? Aubrey thinks of what Chloe might respond with. "I don't know." She's talking to herself now and that doesn't strike her as a good thing. "Beca wants to leave." She waits to see if she can think of a Chloe-like response to that. Nothing comes to mind. "Your mom and dad are going to stay for awhile though. Maybe Beca will change her mind. Maybe she'll even change her mind about coming to see you. I'm trying. I'm telling you, Chloe, it's like she just wasn't even there. You're unconscious and I'm…" She's what? The only word she can think to describe herself with is 'weak'. "But she seems barely affected." It kind of pisses Aubrey off, because, god, what she would give to feel nothing at all. That should be her. It makes her wonder how Chloe would be handling this if she were awake right now.

Probably still better than Aubrey.

But what Aubrey thought was anxiety turned out to be rat poison, so, who knows how she herself would be handling things if she wasn't constantly on the verge of vomiting or collapsing under the weight of her injuries… Probably a hell of a lot better than she is right now. She'd probably already be back at work – like being able to work is the pinnacle of okayness. She doesn't even miss it, if she's being honest. The stress, the long hours, how boring it all was, how no success ever felt like enough… Law isn't the only career out there that builds strong, successful women – at least not by her own definition of those things. Her father would beg to differ…

She pulls her feet up onto the chair and wraps her arm around her stomach, letting her head loll to the side. If Chloe were awake right now, she'd probably have Aubrey imprisoned in bed, trying to hand-feed her like some sort of sick, wounded baby animal needing round the clock care. Aubrey would even opt in for some of that – specifically the being in bed with Chloe never leaving her side part. Over her literal dead body would she be hand-fed or be referred to as a baby animal. It would, however, be acceptable to lay down next to Chloe and never move again, like, literally ever.

xxxxx

It must be over an hour before Noah returns to knock on the door again. He lets himself in, and Aubrey notices immediately that he's alone. "You ready to go?"

She lifts her head a few centimeters from the back of the chair so she can get a better look out the door. "Where's your son?"

"Don't know." Noah rubs the top of his head with a long sigh. "If he decides he wants a ride home, he'll call."

He looks stressed, so Aubrey doesn't ask for a few extra minutes to say her goodbyes. Her throat burns too badly to sing something to Chloe anyway. Instead, she whispers an apology and promises she'll be back tomorrow then kisses her on the cheek. The nothing she receives back is still hard to comprehend.

"Do you want anything on the way?" Noah ruffles her hair as she walks out the door with her notebook.

Aubrey shakes her head and glances back at Chloe one more time.

"She'll be back to kickin' in no time." Noah walks beside her to the elevator. "I hope the moment she wakes up, she lays into that brother of hers."

"Do you think he'll listen?" Aubrey asks.

"Oh, he'll listen." He presses the button for the elevator.

Aubrey braces herself as the doors open and they walk inside. They should have taken the stairs.

"How was everything while I was gone?"

"Mom misses you," Aubrey answers.

"Just Mom? I thought I was your favorite."

Aubrey quickly saves herself with, "Technically, Chloe is my favorite."

Noah grunts dismissively and steps out of the elevator into the lobby. "Whatever she bribed you with, I can do better."

"She didn't bribe me… I didn't even say she was my favorite."

"So you're equally apathetic about both of us."

Aubrey isn't taking the bait. She is not taking sides, and she will not be swayed. But that's not to say she will not be accepting bribes if they are indeed offered. Being caught between her own parents is one thing, but she can see only pros in this situation. "I didn't say that either."

"Last call, Boy!" Noah hollers when they reach the parking lot, "Train's leaving the station!"

There's no sign of him, so Aubrey crawls into the front seat.

"Don't tell your mother I lost our kid," Noah says as he sits down and starts the truck.

"She's going to know when you show up early that you didn't take him home," Aubrey points out.

Noah ponders that. "You're right. She's not going to be happy about this." He reaches over to the passenger side and opens up the glove compartment to start digging around inside. "Here."

"This is your bribe? A peppermint?" Aubrey takes it and looks it over.

"Of course not. I keep those in here because your mother gets seasick. They help with nausea."

Aubrey frowns and is about to toss it back where it came from when he shuts the glove compartment door.

"Don't even think about it."

"I can't even unwrap it," Aubrey says.

"You have teeth." He starts the truck and backs out of the parking space.

"I don't know what this has touched." There could be anything in that glove compartment. Used napkins. Dirty tissues. Broken car parts. "You just had it in your hand." She doesn't know what that has touched either. The mint is snatched back out of her hand before she can do anything with it then returned to her partially open.

"Squeeze it into your mouth. I promised your mother I'd take care of you, and I need to return with at least one kid taken care of. I lost Daniel, so the least I can tell her is I convinced you to eat a mint."

Aubrey turns and looks out the window. "I feel like your problem is significantly worse than your way-out of it suggests." She reluctantly drops the mint into her mouth then crinkles up the plastic against her palm.

"It's all about the math," Noah replies, "Think about it. Between your mother and me, there's two of us. That means I'm responsible for 50% of the parenting. Now, we never agreed how to divide that 50%; so, if I take that 50% that would have been invested in Daniel and use it to invest 100% in you, I have technically done my parental duties."

"Do you really think she's going to buy that?" Aubrey asks, rolling the peppermint around with her tongue.

"Not at all, but it might buy me time to think of something smarter."

"If Chloe ever said that to me after losing one of our children, I would walk out the door."

"Well, what do you suggest?"

"Mental preparation to be sleeping alone for a long time."

"Thanks, Aubrey."

Aubrey leans her forehead against the window glass to feel the coolness on her skin. "Maybe he got a hotel so he could stay close to Chloe."

"He ain't got money for a hotel. If he does, my concern is how he got it."

"Doesn't he have a job?"

Noah snorts. "I guess calling your mother to beg for money could be counted as full-time work."

Aubrey kind of wants to punch this kid in the face.

"But he's still our kid, you know? You'll understand one day. Just…hopefully not with one like him. If it is one like him…ask your mother for help. I'll be busy."

"Who do you think will have kids first? Me or Chloe?"

"On purpose? You. I had to bet Chloe $500 to keep her from screwing around and getting pregnant in college."

"Did you pay up?"

"No. I don't have $500 to give her to spend on god-knows-what. After she graduated, I told her relying on lesbian sex was cheating and, if anything, I owe you $500 for keeping her out of trouble."

Aubrey holds her stomach as she exhales a laugh, but her amusement quickly fades. "I didn't do a very good job of that, did I?" If she had, they wouldn't be here in this moment. She slouches heavy against the door and watches the buildings go by outside.

"You did a fine job, Aubrey. This isn't your fault. I know your mom already told you this, but she's right when she says sometimes bad things just happen and you can't stop them. By the looks of you, you put up enough of a fight. I'd hate to see what the other guy looks like."

He has a bullet hole in him. It should feel good, but it doesn't. Maybe it would feel better had someone else shot him. She wonders what they would think of her if they knew she might have killed someone – even if it was to protect Chloe. She isn't even sure what she thinks about herself. Bad that she shot him, that's for sure. Worse that she didn't kill him. Bastard. She digs her nails into the plastic mint wrapper to distract herself from remembering what the gun felt like in her hand.

What was Beca thinking when she pulled the trigger?

The mint isn't doing much to quell the nausea and the last thing she wants to do is request he pull over, so she stops talking and tries to think of something else – like what her children with Chloe will be like. They'll have to agree on a father, because no way is Aubrey accepting some anonymous donor's sperm inside of her body. It'll have to be someone they know well. Brian seems like he has good genes... And it's not like she's completely against the baby's father being involved. Plus, if he wanted to have kids, he would need a donor of his own, so, it would work. …and she's getting way too ahead of herself.

Noah reaches over and pries the plastic from her grip. He tosses it in the center console then takes her hand and gives it a light squeeze.

It takes glancing between Noah and their hands to fully comprehend he wasn't just taking the plastic so he wouldn't have to listen to Aubrey crinkling it any longer. This feels a whole lot different than her own father grabbing her hand to drag her somewhere; it kind of makes the memories of that that flood her mind not feel so bad. She squeezes back, maybe a little too tightly to keep him from pulling away.

"You're a good kid, Aubrey. Best third addition to the family we could have asked for."

"Did you like Tom?" Aubrey has to know.

The question leaves him looking puzzled. "Who the hell is Tom?"

That's exactly the kind of answer Aubrey was looking for.

xxxxx

Conrad answers the front door when they arrive, and Aubrey slides past him into the living room where Beca is still playing Mario Kart. "Have you even blinked since I left?"

"No."

Julia looks up from her phone, confused, when Noah closes the door behind them. "Why are you here?"

"Is that any way to say hello to your loving husband?" Noah slips his shoes off beside the door.

"I thought you were taking Daniel home."

Aubrey looks up from trying to wrestle her jacket off to see how this is going to go down. The look she receives from Noah has her ducking her head back down, and she follows his instructions as he uses two fingers to motion her to walk away. It's not exactly like she has anywhere to go though, so she ends up crawling up onto the couch with Beca to watch from there.

"He wandered off when we got to the hospital," Noah explains.

"And you just left him there?" Julia asks.

"I spent an hour looking for him. I texted his phone a hundred times. If he wanted a ride, he shouldn't have taken off."

"He's hours from home, Noah."

"He knows how the train works."

Julia exhales an exasperated breath as she stands up from the chair. "You can't abandon our son here." She takes his keys from him and slips on her shoes on her way out the front door.

"He abandoned his ride." Noah follows.

He really should have stuck to his mathematical theory.

Aubrey turns her whole body to face Beca, who hasn't even looked up from her game, and sits crisscross next to her, waiting to be acknowledged. The most she gets is a quick glance. "Is this all you've done all evening?"

Not bothering to pause the game or cross the finish line a few inches in front of her character, Beca tosses the controller to the side and leaves toward the bedroom.

"I think she's mad at you," Conrad whispers.

That's nothing new at least. But that doesn't mean she wants anyone in her business about it. She shoots him a threatening frown then gets up and trails after Beca. "What are you doing?"

Beca kneels on the floor next to the small bag Julia bought her to take on the plane. She doesn't answer as she stuffs her belongings she bought at the mall into it.

"Beca."

"I, uh, didn't play Mario Kart all evening," Beca finally answers in a most casual voice, "I talked to my friend Emily. She said that I could stay with her until I get my life back together."

Her words knock the wind out of Aubrey's lungs and leave her frozen motionless in the doorway.

"You can block the way out as long as you want. If you don't move, I'll use the fire escape." Beca finally looks at her, just not at her face. "We both know this is for the best. We hate each other, Aubrey."

Aubrey throws her notebook in the direction of the bed. "No."

"This isn't your decision to make." Beca lunges for the bag as Aubrey snatches it away. "Dude, stop!" Clothes scatter everywhere as Aubrey turns the bag upside down. By the time Beca scrambles to her feet and grabs it back, all of her belongings are on the floor. She stares at Aubrey, panting like she's out of breath. "I'm going."

"You're not." Aubrey takes the empty bag back and throws that on the floor as well. The mess is making her skin crawl, but she's proven her point with it. She moves her notebook to the nightstand and sits down on the edge of the bed. "If you leave us again, Beca, make no mistake, you will never be given another chance to come back."

"I know," Beca says quietly.

"Do you think that I would be here with just anyone?" Aubrey asks.

"Aubrey…"

"Do you? Do you think if you had died and someone else had survived that I would be asking them to stay? That I would be sharing a bed with them…or the shower?"

"There's a lot going on right now, and I don't think that either of us are thinking straight about what we want…"

"That's such bullshit, Beca!" Aubrey rubs her throat and tries to swallow away the sting that comes with raising her voice. "If you want to leave so bad, you can at least give me the truth why…"

Beca sits down slowly on the bottom corner of the bed and digs her fingertips into the comforter. "Chloe is in a coma," she says slowly, thickly, "And you…"

Aubrey doesn't have to ask what she means. She already knows. The bruises. The gunshot wound. Her arm. The pain and the unbearable nausea. All of it because of Jesse. It makes Aubrey even more grateful Beca hadn't come into their hotel room after she shot the deer and seen her then. "You didn't know. Nobody could have guessed…"

"We're safer without each other."

That's still such a lie; Aubrey knows it. Moving in with someone else is only putting one more person in danger with them. "So that's it then?" She watches her lower herself back down to the floor to pick up her clothes.

"I guess so."

The urge to cry returns in full force but the tears still refuse to come. There's just lump in the back of her throat that sits heavy on her windpipes, making speaking difficult. Even if she could speak, she has no idea what she would say. Beca isn't like Chloe. She can't just be easily convinced to do something she doesn't want to do. That puts her at a loss as Beca gathers all of her belongings back into the bag. If she could just keep her mouth shut about Beca refusing to see Chloe this wouldn't be happening…

"When are you leaving?" she finally manages to get words out. Her voice is barely above a whisper and she isn't even sure Beca heard her as she stands up and drops her bag on the bed to zipper it.

"Now, I guess."

Now. Not even…not even in the morning. Right now. It doesn't fully sink in until Beca lifts the strap of her bag over her shoulder. She reaches out for the bowl on the nightstand, because if she goes to the bathroom, Beca might not be there when she gets back. "Beca, wait… Can we just talk about it?" It looks like Beca might be changing her mind as she turns around, but she pulls a folded sheet of paper from the front pocket of her bag and places it directly in front of Aubrey's legs instead.

"I hope Chloe comes back to you." Beca steps toward the doorway and stuffs her hands deep into her pockets. "Be careful."

That's when her vision finally begins to blur with tears so hot they burn like lava. Aubrey flings the empty bowl at her on her way out then crumples sideways and rolls onto her stomach, barely aware of how her cast digs uncomfortably into her midsection. "I knew you would do this to us again!" she calls after Beca is already out the door. She knew it. She knew, because this is what Beca has done from the very beginning.

When the going gets tough, Beca gets going…right out the nearest exit. And just like every other time, instead of taking satisfaction in how right she was, Aubrey wishes she was wrong.

A/N: Don't worry. Beca isn't gone for good. Also, the next chapter will be a 'special' chapter.