Beca stood as close to the door of the den as she possibly could, her arms folded protectively over her chest as they waited for the pregnancy tests to be ready. She wasn't sure what was more humiliating, being given the test by her father-in-law, or having them sitting on his desk. Aubrey and John were looking at the tests, as if they might grow legs and run away.

That is what Beca wanted to do. Run as far away as fast as she could. She couldn't bare to look at the tests. A timer was ticking away, counting down the seconds. She couldn't stop herself from flinching when it went off, and she looked up at John as he picked them both up, simultaneously sliding his reading glasses on and looked at them. The tension in the room was thick and she had to stop herself from leaving the room as quickly as she could to avoid knowing what the tests said. She knew that wouldn't end well, however. She glanced at Aubrey who also looked slightly nervous. Was she feeling the same way that Beca felt?

John took his glasses off and set the tests down.

"They're positive." He smiled and a breath that Beca didn't even know she was holding left her in a sharp exhale of disbelief. She looked at Aubrey, her eyes already filling with tears.

Her arms fell and she took in the uncomfortable twitch of her wife's lips. She shook her head slowly. "I can't- Bree, I can't, I'm not ready." She said as she stepped over to her, not wanting, but needing any kind of comfort she could get. Aubrey had just taken her into her arms when John slammed his hand down on the desk and she jumped, holding onto Aubrey tightly.

"You will get ready." He said standing up. She kept her eyes on him as she laid her head on Aubrey's chest, crying softly. He walked over to them, and kissed Aubrey on the forehead, then gave Becas arm a gentle squeeze.

"Congratulations." He smiled, walking out of the den.

XXXXXX

The ride home was just as silent as the ride to John's house. Beca tucked herself into the door, keeping her head down, and her tears silent. She couldn't do this. She wasn't ready. She just took over the label, she couldn't be pregnant. That aside…she was being abused by her Wife. This was a cruel joke.

She didn't notice they had arrived home, too far gone in her own thoughts. It was Aubrey's hand on her arm, that jolted her out of her trance. She looked over at her, pleading with her eyes.

"I can't do this, Aubrey."

Aubrey shook her head, looking almost sad.

"It's already done." She said opening her door and getting out. Beca watched her as she rounded the car and entered the house. She didn't want to go inside. It seemed like every time she did, she ended up on the floor with new bruises.

It took her a few minutes. Minutes filled with a thousand racing thoughts. Should she just get her keys, get into her car and leave? Should she call for a car? Should she call Chloe?

All of these thoughts shot through her mind at lightening speed. What was she going to do? Leave Aubrey? Leave her marriage, just after finding out she is pregnant? She couldn't do that. She couldn't take Aubrey's baby. Or could she? She reached for the door handle just as the garage door opened and Aubrey reappeared, a look of question on her face.

She got out of the car and walked toward her into the house, passing Aubrey, holding her breath, waiting for her to grab her by the arm, or her hair. Waiting for the shove, or punch that would send her sprawling to the kitchen floor.

It never came.

She turned around to see her grabbing a bottle of water out of the fridge and handing it to her.

She took it silently and with a cautious glance she headed for the stairs. Aubrey didn't follow. She didn't speak. She allowed her to leave the room and there wasn't a fight.

She found herself climbing the stairs to the third floor. Her studio. Her safe place. She walked in and looked around at the dark room. It was clean and smelled of eucalyptus and mint. Soothing scents. She stood for a moment, in a daze, before closing the door and slowly making her way to the far corner of the room. She turned, tucked into the corner and slid down the wall. Her eyes drifted from the door to the floor in front of her.

She was pregnant. She was carrying a baby she didn't want. She wasn't ready for. A baby she was being forced to carry. A baby her own wife admitted she wasn't ready for. She went back on her promises. She was so desperate to please him. John Posen. So desperate to be his shining star, she didn't care that it was killing her wife from the inside. The beatings aside. She was non longer the woman she used to be. She was a shell of her former self. She was no longer Beca Mitchell-Posen, Music producer. She was simply Aubrey's wife. Even as the new head of the label. She was nothing more than the weak woman carrying a child that didn't deserve to be born into the chaos that it would be.

XXXXXX

Aubrey went about her evening routine, washing her face and getting into her pajamas. She knew where Beca was and didn't have it in her to tell her to leave the studio and come to bed. Instead, she climbed into the bed and grabbed her laptop from the bedside table. Beca would need a blood test to confirm the pregnancy and she would also need to set up her first ultrasound and make sure everything was okay. She had told her they didn't have to go through with this. But now? She had gone back on her word. Her father offered her job back, as long as she agreed to continue their dinners, and he was allowed to be apart of the pregnancy.

What was she supposed to do? She worked so hard in her career. She was proud of her status; she was proud of the reputation she held in Atlanta. Beca could still run the label, until the baby came. They would both get maternity leave, and then they would figure it out from there.

Was she ready for a baby? No. But her father was right. They would get ready.