I hope everyone understands why Aubrey's constantly pulling and pushing Beca away. You can't just unlearn eighteen years of what Richard Posen instilled in her, even if she does love Beca. I know that it may be frustrating to read, but trust me, it's all for a reason. Also, I know this is two chapters in two days but seriously there are only six chapters left after this and I'm excited to start my new story. So, in order to do that I need to finish this. Don't worry, I'm not just going to churn out a bunch of crap chapters to finish this, since they're already written, but I just thought I'd let you know that I may just finish this story in a week or two.

Seven

Beca ascended the stairs to the third floor of the male dorm and walked down the long corridor to Benji's room. Benji was expecting a visit from his father and Beca had her therapy session with Jordan. Both of their sessions were around the same time so they decided to walk over to the administration building together.

When she reached his door she extended her hand and knocked lightly before placing that hand on the small of her back to nurse the ache there. Since her fall out with Aubrey a week ago she had been sleeping on Cynthia Rose's floor after a counselor discovered her asleep in the television room and ordered her back to her room. In the week since Aubrey basically spit on their relationship and threw it away, the two had been going out of their way to avoid each other with Beca siting as far as possible from the blonde in therapy. When it came time to return to her room to shower and get dressed, she made sure she did it at a time when either Aubrey was still asleep or at breakfast. It worked relatively well and she managed to avoid the blonde until that morning when she'd overslept. When she went to her room to shower Aubrey was sitting at her desk writing. The moment she saw the brunette walk into the room, she immediately dropped her pen and looked at the brunette hoping to at least rescue their friendship from the ashes that was their relationship.

"Beca, please look at me." Aubrey pleaded.

Beca ignored her and continued to search through her closet for something to wear. She didn't want to be in the room longer than she needed to.

Aubrey rolled her eyes at Beca's behavior, "So you're just going to ignore me because you didn't get your way?"

Beca dropped the shirt in her hand and glared at Aubrey, "You really don't get it Aubrey. I'm in love with you! And—and you threw it away like what we had meant nothing. You knowhow hard it is for me to admit that and yet when I did, you turned your back on me." She picked up her towel and shower basket before looking at Aubrey, "So, no, I'm not going to talk to you or acknowledge you because as of now, you are dead to me."

When Beca exited the shower she was happy to find that Aubrey had left the room. She meant what she said to Aubrey and she was glad that the blonde got the hint and made sure she was out the room when she returned from the bathroom.

"Hey, I'm almost ready." Benji said, opening the door to allow her to come inside while he searched for his other Converse sneaker. Beca nodded her head and took a seat on his bed to wait.

"Did you make up with Aubrey?" he asked, finally finding the shoe that had found its way shoved under his bed. He got up off his knees and took a seat on his bed next to Beca to put on the sneaker.

"Nope. I already told you that we're done. She doesn't want to be with me. She said so herself."

Benji looked up from where he was tying his shoe and asked, "Well, did she say anything when you went back to your room this morning?"

Beca shrugged and stood up from the bed, "Look Benji, I don't want to talk about it. I didn't want to talk about it then and I still don't. So I'd really appreciate it if you'd just drop it."

Benji nodded his head and didn't say anything else, not wanting to be the cause of another outburst. He followed the small brunette out of his dorm room and they walked to the administration building in silence.

When they reached the entrance of the building, Beca reached out and grabbed Benji's arm before he could walk inside.

"Look Benj, I'm sorry about snapping at you back there. I just—I'm still upset about it and seeing her this morning didn't help. But..." she sighed and ran a hand through her hair, "It doesn't excuse how I acted. I'm sorry."

Benji smiled at her and hugged her, "Don't worry about, Beca. I know how hard you've been taking your breakup and I shouldn't have been pushing you. But I really hate it that things turned out the way they did. I mean, I just saw you two together and you looked so happy. I don't know what her father said to her but it's obvious he's really messing with her head."

Beca shoved her hands in her pocket and gestured to the building with a head nod, "I guess we should get inside, yeah?"

Benji nodded, "Yeah. Don't want to keep the drunk bastard waiting."

"Alright. But um, look, if you need someone to talk to afterwards, I should be out of my meeting in about an hour."

"Yeah, I might just take you up on that."

Beca smiled at him and they walked into building parting ways to head to their respective meetings.

Beca walked the two flights of stairs that took her to Jordan's office and knocked on the door. She took a few steps back to await permission to enter but the door swung open after only a couple of seconds.

Jordan stood in the doorway with a smile on her face motioning for her to enter. "Come inside, Beca."

Beca eyed the therapist skeptically as she walked further into the room, stopping suddenly at the sound of someone saying her name.

"Hi, Beca."

Beca's head whipped to face the direction of the mystery voice as she forced out, barely above a whisper, "Mom?"

Jennifer stood up and walked over to Beca, enveloping her in a tight hug. Beca awkwardly wrapped her arms around her mother, patting her lightly on the back.

Jordan closed her door and joined the two over by the desk, instructing Beca to take a seat in the empty chair next to her mother.

Beca did as told and sat down, immediately turning her body so that she could face her mother. It felt like it had been so long since she'd seen her when in fact it had only been two months. She took in her mother's appearance and how much thinner she looked since the last time they'd seen each other back in June. From where she sat she could see where her mother tried to cover a bruise on her right cheek with foundation and the thought of Liam putting the mark there enraged her. She could just imagine what other welts and scars her mother was hiding under her clothes now that Liam could beat his wife without Beca there to defend her mother.

Jordan opened her notepad to the prepared questions given to her by her mother when she received the call that Mrs. Brookes would be visiting her daughter. At first, she didn't even know that Mrs. Brookes was Beca's mother because of the difference in last time but seeing them side by side, she could see the mother daughter resemblance, with the only difference being in hair color.

She scanned the ten key points Mrs. Westmore suggested she cover and she internally rolled her eyes at the list.

"So, towards the end of the summer, we like to hold a therapy session where we bring in your parents and hold a joint session. It's usually beneficial for both parties because that it allows the child to hear their parents' argument and the child can voice their opinions without interruption." She turned towards Beca and continued, "Now Beca, if you remember back to one of our earlier sessions we discussed that relationships with our parents may have influenced our sexual preferences. Now your choice to identify as gay—"

"I didn't choose anything." Beca said with an irritated sigh. She crossed her arms in front of her and slouched down in her chair, already sensing this session would be a waste of time.

Jordan looked at the small brunette and had to hold back any expressions of sympathy. She knew Beca didn't have a good relationship with her mother and here she was, an outsider, trying to intrude on a family that she only knew bits and pieces about. Way to go Westmore Institute, converting kids and destroying families in the process.

She looked down at her notepad to remind herself of what question she was going to ask before continuing.

"Your lifestyle, as we discussed, is most likely a result of your fractured relationship with your mother."

Beca scoffed and mumbled, "If anything, it's my relationship with Liam that screwed me up."

Jordan motioned to Jennifer and asked, "Do you have anything you want to say in response to that, Mrs. Brookes?"

Jennifer turned to her daughter and took the smaller teen's hand between her own.

"Beca, honey. I—I know things have been tough these last couple of years with everything that's been happening at home."

Beca scoffed, "Oh you mean, watching Liam beat the crap out of you?" she shrugged her shoulder and looked at her mother with a sarcastic smirk, "Wow, who would have thought something like that could traumatize a four year old when she's seen it every day since?" Jennifer bit her inner lip, embarrassed that Beca would carelessly reveal something so personal in front of a stranger.

Jennifer looked at her daughter and asked through clenched teeth, "Beca, I don't think this is the appropriate place to talk about that?"

"Then what's appropriate, huh, because you didn't think the emergency room or the police station was appropriate either."

"I'm just saying, Beca, I don't think we should discuss that here in front of Ms. Ramsey."

"Why not? It's not like she can't see the black eye you failed miserably at covering with makeup. Tell me what did you do this time? Add too much salt to his steak?"

She didn't even see her mother raise her hand until she felt the sting of her hand on her cheek. Beca's hand flew to her face and she looked at her mother in shock before it quickly transformed to anger. She clenched her jaw and dropped her hand, trying to calm herself before she lashed out at the older woman. Jennifer immediately reached out o grab her daughter's hand to apologize.

"Beca, I didn't mean it. Please, just listen to me. I know how much my problems with Liam have affected you, and I just want to say I'm sorry honey. I'm so—"

Beca ripped her hands out of her mother's grasp and looked at her in anger and disgust. Seeing her mother say words she didn't mean was pushing her to her boiling point, and if she did mean them, so what? It's one thing to be stuck in a cycle of domestic abuse, but to sit by and watch as that same man mercilessly beat on your daughter—apologies were worthless at this point.

"Stop apologizing!" she screamed, her hands shooting up to her hair and tugging at it in irritation.

Jennifer quickly looked at Jordan, her face flushed with embarrassment before turning back to her daughter, "Calm down, Beca."

"No! I'm not calming down. You keep apologizing for what you think is wrong. Apologize for allowing that bastard to hurt me or forgiving him when that fucker pushed you down the stairs and caused your miscarriage." She squeezed her eyes shut to try and push back her tears. She couldn't allow her mind to wander to her seven year old self happily making a mobile to place above the crib of her little sister or brother. She clutched the armrest of her chair as she looked up at the ceiling to stop the tears and push back the memories of watching her mother deliver a dead fetus in the bathtub, something a child should never have to witness.

Jordan watched on silently as Beca unleased what she presumed was a decade worth of anger and hurt onto her mother and she was helpless, forced to watch as Beca cried, something she'd never seen the small brunette do.

"Why don't you apologize for lying about what happened when Chloe's mom asked how I broke my leg in first grade? Or better yet, apologize for turning up the television that night he got drunk and tried to break into my room." She stood up and glared down at her mother through red puffy eyes that threatened to spill over with tears. She didn't mean to start crying but for the first time she was given the opportunity to tell her mother all the things she buried deep inside. Jordan was giving her the chance to make her mother face the reality that she had, for so long, turned her back on.

She wiped at her eyes and choked out, "Apologize for taking away the girl who stood at her back door waiting as I ran for my life the night he finally broke the lock master lock Unicycle stole for me to put on my door. The one girl that helped me forget, if only for a second, what that fucker did to our family." Beca stormed away from her mother ignoring Jordan's pleas for her to stay. She angrily wiped at her tears, feeling embarrassed about breaking down the way she did. She reached out and pulled the door open.

With one last glance back at her mother she bitterly cried,

"Apologize for taking away the girl who showed me how to love when he beat it out of me."

\***/

Benji walked into the small room that was designated for monitored visits. It was small with just a table and two chairs occupying the space. On one wall was a double sided mirror for Mrs. Westmore or a counselor to watch on. This was his first time being in one of the rooms since his father never came to visit him anyway, which was why he surprised that he got a call out of the blue stating that his father would be making the trip to see his only son.

When he entered the room and saw it that it was empty, he was glad to see he was the first one there. This meant that he could mentally prepare himself for his father's visit. He took a seat in the chair furthest from the door so he could see when his father arrived. As he sat, he couldn't help but become restless, adjusting his shirt collar several times and making sure his hair wasn't messy. He didn't need to give his father any more reasons to make fun of or ridicule him.

His breath hitched at the sound of Mrs. Westmore instructing someone to follow her and he counted down the seconds until he would have to face the older Applebaum. However, when the door opened and he saw, not his father, but Tom, he turned to Mrs. Westmore in confusion.

"What is he doing here?"

Mrs. Westmore didn't answer and instead told Tom that she would give them some privacy, exiting the room and closing the door behind her. Tom looked at him and gestured to the table,

"I need to talk to you."

Benji rolled his eyes, but sat back down, nonetheless. He had absolutely no idea why Tom would even take the time to come visit him when he made it clear how he felt the day they broke up.

Tom took a seat next to Benji and reached inside his jacket, pulling out a small envelope. Benji looked at the unsealed envelope unsure of whether or not Tom wanted him to look inside.

"Read it." Tom said firmly. Benji looked at him and back at the envelope before reaching out hesitantly to pick up the letter. He pulled out the small piece of paper and read its contents.

"Dear Tomas Porter, thank you for your recent blood donation. We are writing to let you know the results of some of the tests we did on your blood and how these test results will affect your future as a blood donor. We test all blood for evidence of human immunodeficiency Viruses (HIV). Some of your HIV test results are abnormal. These abnormal test results indicate HIV infection…." Benji trailed off and looked back at Tom.

"You have HIV? But how?"

Tom ripped the paper from Benji's hand and screamed, "You gave it to me!"

Benji shook his head and glared at the older man, "No, that's not possible. I'll admit, I did sleep around for a couple of months but that was after we broke. And who's to say you didn't give it to me? You were my first, remember? Not the other way around." He sat back in his chair with an amused grin which only incited Tom even more. The older man jumped out of his chair, and walked around the table. He reached out and forcefully grabbed Benji by his collar, pulling him out of his chair.

He slammed his hand down on the table and said, "I was clean when were together. You betrayed me, you little shit! I trusted you!"

Benji couldn't take anymore. He refused to let Tom sit here and accuse him of something he was certain he wasn't at fault for. He pushed Tom away from him and fixed his shirt, "Well if what you say is true and I know you didn't get it from me, it makes me wonder did Westmore's poster boy really change or just scamper back in the closet?"

Before Benji could react, Tom reeled back and punched the smaller boy square in his nose. The second punch grazed his chin. He was so focused on his now bleeding nose, though, that when the next punch landed, it doubled him over and expelled the last bit of choked air from his already weak lungs. Outside of having the wind knocked from him, and blood pouring down his midsection, Benji noticed a fair amount of pain from the gut shot, which was something he wasn't used to. He'd taken punches before, usually in the kidneys or any other place his father deemed would inflict the most pain with little bruising, but this punch shouldn't have been much more than discomfort, if that with all the beatings he's taken.

Benji held his aching abdomen as he stood up straight and stared Tom in the eye. Benji clenched his fist, but when he surged forward to retaliate, the pain shot through his torso and some of the momentum in his punch decreased. Benji knew the second he launched it, the taller, more muscular male ducked under it and before he could even register to dodge, another body shot, this one to his ribs sent fresh ripples of pain through his torso once again. He didn't fall-he made absolutely sure he did not fall, a lesson instilled in him by his father. Tom went in for another shot but Benji shoved him off and leaned against the wall to try and recover. Seeing Tom quickly walking back over to him, Benji mustered a second wind and covered the remaining distance between them.

"It's not my fault!" he cried out and threw three more punches that did land. He gazed at the door waiting for Mrs. Westmore to come in and break up the fight.

However, Tom stood again and charged at him in anger. His shoulder connected in the center of Benji's gut, sending him straight to the ground. With Benji now on the ground, Tom straddled him and began laying punch after punch to his face, shouting,

"You motherfucker. You gave me HIV, I should kill you!"

Benji tried to put his hands up to block the onslaught of punches but it was to no avail and he was forced to take the beating since Mrs. Westmore obviously wasn't going to come to his rescue. She probably was standing right outside looking in through the two way mirror with a please smile as Tom bash 'the little faggot.'

"You little faggot!" Tom screamed and hit him in the chest. "No wonder your father liked to beat the crap out of you."

After a while, the blows became weaker and more time passed between each until, finally, Tom got off of him. Benji immediately clutched his stomach in pain as Tom stood up. Kicking him in the stomach one last time, Tom grabbed his letter off the table before spitting on Benji's cradled body,

"You're dead to me. You hear me? You…Are…Dead…To…Me!"

Benji closed his eyes, trying to ignore the terrible pain coursing through his body. The man he once considered the love of his life beat him as if were and stranger. As if he hated him and Benji felt terrible because of it. The emotional scars he left behind hurt worse than the physical ones and Benji knew they would never really heal. But hey, maybe Tom was right. Maybe there was a reason why his father beat him. The same reason why Tom did it today. Maybe he was a piece of trash after all.

He waited until he heard the door slam before weakly making his way to his feet. He clutched his head in pain as he slowly made his way to the door.

When he exited the room, he was startled by the presence of someone standing by the door. His assumption was right, Mrs. Westmore had seen the entire thing and now she was glaring at him as if he were the vilest creature in existence.

"You should be ashamed of yourself. You just couldn't stand the idea that he could actually change so you had to go and ruin that good boy's life?"

Benji looked at her through swollen eyes and scowled, "Fuck you," before slowly making his way out towards the elevators.

Beca ran down the stairs, trying not to cry any more than she already had. And to make matters worse, she had nowhere to go where she could be alone. It wasn't like she could go back to her room since Aubrey would certainly be there at this time of day. It was just—seeing her mother and hearing her say she was sorry when in reality she did nothing wrong. It was Liam that screwed her up, not her mother and the idea that she blamed herself for the things he did made Beca boil with rage. She kicked open the door of the stairwell and made her way to the exit of the building when the sound of someone calling her name stopped her. She didn't have to turn around to know it was Benji.

She began walking again and called out, "I don't want to talk right now, Benji."

Benji clutched his stomach as he tried to catch up to her but Beca kept walking. The taller boy tried to keep up with her but his current condition made it difficult. "Beca, please. I really need to talk to you," he begged, reaching out to grab her arm. Beca angrily shrugged off his hand and turned towards him screaming, "Do you think you're the only one with problems!"

Benji coiled back at her sudden outburst unsure of what to say in response. He stood and remained silent as the small brunette stormed off.

\***/

Aubrey sat on her bed reading her bible when the room door being pushed opened caused her to look up. Hoping it was Beca so that they could talk, she stood up but stopped at the sight of the small brunette storming into the room, punching the wall by her bed repeatedly before breaking down crying on her bed. Aubrey slowly walked over to Beca's bed, taking a seat next to the small brunette. She reached her hand out and placed it on Beca's back. Beca, as if Aubrey's touch made her aware of the blonde's presence, looked up through red eyes and pushed Aubrey away from her.

"Get the fuck away from me!"

Aubrey, taken aback, didn't move right away and just watched Beca drop her head into her hands once again. She sat and watched the brunette cry a little longer and after recovering from the initial shock, she got up from the bed to return to her desk. She realized that she no longer had the right to comfort Beca anymore and there was no one to blame but herself. So instead, she could only sit silently and watch as Beca lied down on her bed and cried into her pillow, angry at herself that she couldn't console the brunette.

Beca, unable to stop all of the memories of what Liam did to their family, to her when she was younger, cried into her pillow, trying to muffle the sounds of her harsh sobs. She hated that Aubrey was seeing her this way—she lost that privilege when she broke up with her—but she had no other alternative. The hatred and anger that filled her heart over everything that had gone wrong in her life was enough to fuel her tears for another hour before she cried herself into a tear induced slumber.

She woke up sometime later in an empty room and for a moment she didn't move. She just sat in the dark feeling her pupils dilate to adjust to the darkness of the room because the moment she sat up or turned on the light she would have to face all the things she wanted desperately to forget. After another twenty minutes of listening to her body convert oxygen to carbon dioxide, she sat up, wiping at her eyes in an attempt to clear her blurry vision.

Then, as if her mind was backlogged, the memory of yelling at Benji came flooding back and she knew she'd screwed up big time. With a sigh she swung her legs over the side of her bed and pulled on her boots, trying to come up with a game plan to apologize to him. This was twice in one day; she really needed to get her temper in check if she wanted to have friends by the end of this.

She stood up and exited the room, hoping Benji was in his room.

She jogged across campus to the boys' dorm and quickly climbed the stairs to the third floor where Benji's room was. Lucky for her, Benji had one of the few singles in the building which gave her the opportunity to apologize without a nosy roommate eavesdropping. She lifted her hand and knocked several times on the door.

She sighed when she didn't receive a response, "Come on Benji, I know you're in there."

She knocked again and was met with silence once again. With a frown, she reached out and decided to try the door knob. When she turned it and found it unlocked she smiled and realized that Benji probably fell asleep like she had.

"Benji, look I'm—"she stopped midsentence. At first she couldn't move, only stare at the body hanging from the ceiling, a bed sheet around his neck. Purple had settled around his neck and his mouth hung open, saliva beginning to hang out. His eyes, bloodshot and swollen, gazed blankly over the room. Despite how terribly tragic the scene was, Beca was paralyzed and found herself unable to look away. Then, as if realizing what was in front of her, her body seemed to restart and she sprinted across the room to grab the body hanging from the ceiling.

She screamed as loud as she could for help as she tried to support the weight of Benji's body as it hung from the ceiling fan. Stepping up onto the chair situated under his body, Beca tugged at the skillfully tied knot until the bed sheet came loose, releasing his body. Taking on the full weight of his body, she lowered him onto the ground before running to the door and screaming again for someone to help her.

Turning back around, she looked at Benji as he lied on the floor and as she stepped closer it felt like any moment her knees were going to buckle. She crouched down before him, very unaware of her trembling hand as she reached out to touch his neck for a pulse. His body was warm. He's still alive, she told herself and she kept telling herself that repeatedly as she lifted his head so she could prepare to do CPR. He didn't fight her on it, he just lied there, eyes open, body stiff and blue. As she straddled his body to get in a better position she stared at him and her stomach began to cramp up. It felt like it was curling and twisting, just tightening around her abdomen. Her forehead began sweating and sweat trickled down her eyes, making it hard to see as she leaned over Benji to begin performing resuscitations.

"Come on Benji, wake up. You gotta wake up." She stacked her hands on top of his chest and began to pump repeatedly before dropping her head to breathe air into his mouth. She tried over and over again until she was out of breath. He was gone.

Climbing off of him, she turned at the sound of Andy standing at the door, asking what happened. She immediately screamed for him to go and get help before looking back at Benji.

She crawled out the room and sat in front of the closed door as if protecting Benji's body inside, waiting for Andy to return with help. She sat there in shock until footsteps climbing the stairs filled the silent hallway and Jordan appeared. She saw Beca sitting against the door with her head in her hands and instantly flushed a pale color.

"Beca?" she asked, her voice sounding very shaken herself. Beca lifted her hand and lazily reached up behind her head to open the door, her eyes still staring directly forward.

Jordan slowly stepped around her and walked further into the room. She must have known something was wrong. She was in such a hurry to get up the stairs, now she was dreading entering the room. She peered from where she stood, her hand still on the door, and once she spotted Benji, she almost tripped over Beca, running over to his body. Beca got up and walked into the room, retreating to the corner as she watched Jordan fall to her knees and grab Benji's face in her hands, slapping it gently, screaming at him as if she yelled loud enough he would just wake up. She lowered his head to the floor gently before beginning CPR on him, calling out his name in between breaths.

Beca wanted to tell her it was over. To stop wasting her time, to stop calling for Benji. That he's not in there anymore. But the sight broke her heart so much that she remained quiet as she slid down the wall, curling her knees up to her chin and hugging them against her chest. Jordan's voice became shaky as the loud blare of the ambulance filled the air and both women could hear the loud stomping of boots as EMTs quickly climbed the stairs to the third floor. Beca flinched at the loud slam of the room door swinging open and hitting the other side of the wall.

Soon three men stormed inside carrying a bunch of equipment. "That him?" one asked. Jordan nodded and stepped away from Benji's body, allowing them to take over. Beca wanted to jump up and yell at the guy for asking such a dumb question. No, dipshit, that's not the man we called about. Though, he is the only person in the room lying motionless on the floor.

Beca watched them attempt to perform CPR for what was the third time and she firmly yelled, "He's gone." She hated herself for admitting it but it was the truth. She could hear the commotion of people gathered out in the hallway and she wanted to scream for them to leave and go away but she couldn't move. Instead, she watched the EMTs check his pulse, check for breaths, and attempt to resuscitate him over and over again. Nothing. She closed her eyes and tried to imagine a different reality where she'd come in just in time to talk Benji out tying that knot or stepping off that chair, but when she opened her eyes, the EMTs were stepping away from Benji, preparing to scoop him up, like he was nothing now.

She sat motionless in the corner, ignoring any and all counselors that offered to escort her back to her room. She couldn't hear them and when Jordan stood in front of her asking if she wanted to talk, Beca stared back with a blank gaze before her eyes returned to where they'd been fixed on the ceiling fan that Benji's body hung from. After a while, everyone just left her alone, figuring she'd move when she was ready.

That night, when she finally found the energy to move she stood up and her eyes landed on a small piece of paper on Benji's desk that had her name written on the outside. She meekly approached it and reached out slowly as if afraid it would burn her.

She tentatively unfolded the paper and read the contents inside,

Sometimes, death is the only solution.

Runs and hides. Sorry guys but please don't hate me.