A/N: Here we go, new chapter all revved up and raring to go. Prepare yourselves, this is going to be different. There's going to be a second half of this chapter posted sometime tomorrow. I was going to just keep writing on this one but I feel like it'll work better split up. Hope ya dig 'em both. Also, Iggy Azalea is fantastic and is pretty damn Fancy if you ask me.
I.
"So, you're settling into college life well, then Beca-bee?"
The DJ rolls her eyes fondly at the nickname. "Yes, you over-protective asshole. I'm settling fine."
"Hey!" Stiles whines theatrically through the phone. Beca can practically see the pout on his makes her smile. "Don't judge me for caring. You're my baby hobbit, I like knowing you're okay!"
"Judge you, Sty?" The brunette grins, affecting a mock offended tone. "I could never." She frowns. "And stop calling me hobbit, I'm not that short."
"Beca." Her brother's voice grows dead serious. "You barely come up to Derek's chest. You're tiny."
"Shut up, asshole!" She laughs, throwing herself back onto her mattress and stares up at her ceiling. She's glad Kimmy Jin is in class right now or she'd have to deal with a Level Two I'm-so-unimpressed-with-you-right-now glare from her roommate.
She's had the past month to create an alphabetical list of Kimmy's glares and looks of ultimate irritation. There's even a grading scale! DEFCON 1 (I'm-going-to-kill-you-stare) is the worst Kimmy Jin has to offer. Beca was on the receiving end of that gem when she jokingly told Stiles she and the Asian were totally best friends. Apparently, they're not.
Beca can easily ignore a Level One unimpressed glare (it's her roommate's default expression), but Level Two? It's a little harder. She rolls onto her stomach and keeps talking. "It's not my fault your boyfriend is a mountain! Der-bear is like 6'2" and 300% muscle as I'm sure you well know."
"Yeah." Stiles voice sounds dreamy and Beca shoots up, frowning suspiciously at her phone. There's a sigh from the other end and her eyes widen dramatically.
"Dude, gross!" She yells into the receiver, ignoring the sound of her brothers startled flailing on the other end. "Stiles! Don't think about sex with your boyfriend when you're on the phone with me! I don't need those images!"
"You're the one who brought him up." He sounds completely unapologetic and Beca wants to hit him.
"No, I didn't!" she exclaims. "You did."
"Oh." The DJ can almost see Stiles shrugging. "He's just always on my mind, you know? What's a guy to do?"
"You two are grossly affectionate." Beca informs him seriously. "Worse than Scott and Allison, and I wasn't sure that was even possible."
"Aww, Beca-bee!" Stiles coos and she rolls her eyes. It wasn't supposed to be a compliment but of course her brother took it that way. "I can't wait to tell them you said that! I've been telling them for months that we were worse. They just won't believe me!"
Of course they have a competition on that. Beca shakes her head at the entirety of the population of Mongolia University. The only sane one there is Isaac and he'd win a being disgustingly adorable competition hands down. The boy is a puppy. He's also Beca's favorite, sometimes even before Stiles. But almost never before Der. Der-bear likes to pretend he's the big bad wolf but Beca has his number. Derek Hale is such a softie at heart.
The DJ shakes her head one more time at her brother's antics before singsong-ing "Goodbye, Stiles."
"Wait!" He exclaims to and there's a loud thump. Beca snorts because she can easily recognize the sound of Stiles falling out of his desk chair. It's certainly happened enough times. "So are you really having a good time? 'Cause if you're having problems, I'm fine with coming down and knocking a few skulls. Or having Derek knock skulls because he's bigger and has the whole 'Eyebrows of Doom' going for him, so it's more frightening."
She huffs a laugh because Der's majestic eyebrows are a work of art. A small smile crosses her face at the thought. "I'm fine, Stiles. I'd call you if I weren't."
There's a sad sigh from across the line. "You'd call me when it's so bad you couldn't handle it anymore." Beca stays silent because they both know it's true.
She doesn't like bothering her brother with her problems, despite the fact that only him and John can help. It's her first instinct to call one of them when she's feeling overwhelmed, to be soothed by the sound of unconditional love and safe. But she rarely actually picks up the phone and dials.
Sometimes she'll break down and call Stiles but almost never John. It feels like admitting weakness to strongest man she knows and Beca… she can't. Not to John. Barely even to , Beca knows they won't kick her to the curb for breaking down. She knows in her head that they never will.
But some traitorously small part of her heart is still convinced that the Stilinski's don't really want her and letting them know just how fucked up she still is will only make them want to abandon her faster. Its bullshit, she knows but she can't help the way she feels.
"I just….I worry about you, Beca." Beca can hear the sadness in his voice and it makes her want to punch something. Mostly herself. "I don't like not being there to help."
"I know, Sty." She reassures softly. There's a comfortable silence then that Beca is loathe to break but she needs Stiles to know how much he means to her, wants him to know how much she appreciates him. "Thank you." A fortifying breath. "For caring. I…it means…I just… thanks."
She stumbles over the last few words, unable to make herself say what she's really thankful for. Unable to make herself say Thank you for taking me in. For never leaving. Thank you for being you and for being my brother. Thank you for deciding I was worth it. Thank you. But Beca can't make herself say those words so she just clears her throat awkwardly and waits.
"What are big brothers for, Beca-bee?" Stiles's voice is soft and understanding and so unbelievably fond. She knows he knows exactly what she was trying to say. It makes her throat close and grateful tears well up in her eyes. She laughs watery.
"I love you, asshole." She knows he can hear the sincerity in her voice.
"Love you more, fucker. Talk to you next Wednesday?"
Beca grins, feeling light and airy like she always does after talking with Stiles. After being reminded that she's loved. "Always. Bye, Sty."
"Bye, Beca."
Beca hangs up the phone two hours after it obnoxiously blared Shoot to Thrill, scaring her half to death and informing her that her dear brother was calling for their weekly check in. It's been a staple of both their lives since Stiles first went to University as a way for Beca to make sure Stiles wasn't leaving her and Stiles to make sure Beca didn't self-implode while he was gone.
Two hours was about average for their talks. They spend the time catching up and gossiping about Stiles's friends and the Hale family. Between the two groups, it's a soap opera waiting to happen. Beca is almost certain that Stiles has scripts hidden around somewhere turning their lives into just that. Except she thinks he made it into a supernatural drama/romance, if all the questions about werewolves he's been asking recently are any indication.
(Why he feels the need to ask Beca about werewolves is beyond her. HE'S the one with minor in Folklore and Mythology)
The DJ is just happy that John pays her cellphone bill. The number of minutes they rack up is probably ridiculous. Though she's positive he only pays because when the Sheriff calls every other Sunday, he talks to her for twice as long. Not that Beca is complaining. She likes the sound of John's voice. It's comforting.
Beca sits there for a little bit thinking about her conversation with her brother. She wasn't lying when she told him she was doing fine. In fact, she was doing great. She likes being in Barden and going to classes. It keeps her busy. She even enjoys her teachers and what they're teaching. So far, her first year at university is shaping up to be fantastic.
The brunette smiles to herself then tosses her phone up near her pillows and stretches, relaxing into the motion and rolls her neck until it cracks. Sitting in the same position for so long didn't exactly do wonders for her muscles. She glances around the room, realizing that its still only her in it. Checking her clock, she sees it's about nine at night. Kimmy Jin must've gone to dinner or something because there's no way that her class is still going on.
Beca had already eaten before Stiles called and was actually getting ready for a run when her cell started screaming AC/DC. The brunette had been feeling a little cagey sitting in her room and figured some exercise would make her feel better. She is still dressed in her running shorts and tank top and it's not too dark out right now. Beca thinks she can jog for a while. And if some idiot tries to jump her? Well. John made sure both his kids knew how to defend themselves. Beca can handle it.
That in mind, the brunette grabs her iPhone from her bed, plugs in her headphones (the white ones that Apple makes, not her expensive Beats by Dre) and pulls up her workout playlist. The sassy sound of Iggy Azalea filters through the ear buds and Beca smiles, quietly rapping along as she tightens her laces and stretches.
"So get my money on time, if they not money decline. I just can't worry 'bout no haters gotta stay on my grind." The brunette sasses as she exits her dorm, silly grin on her face as she dances her way out the doors of Baker Hall. The moment her feet hit pavement she's off at a sprint, relishing the way her muscles pull and stretch.
As she rounds a corner, Beca decides she and Iggy are going to be making a habit out of this. They both gotta stay fancy after all.
II.
Beca feels disgusting.
Running three miles and back in Georgia heat does that to a girl but still. She feels gross and sweaty and just really, really wants a shower. It's an added bonus that it's now past eleven so the bathroom should be deserted. Beca doesn't like showering near people. It makes her uncomfortable.
Quietly opening the door to 628 and poking her head in, Beca learns that Kimmy Jin is back from murdering her latest victim and is sleeping soundly. The brunette silently enters their shared room and quickly strips, pulling on her bathrobe and grabbing her shower caddy before slipping back out into the hall.
She walks through the maze of hallways until she finds the communal bathroom for her floor. The brunette is gratified to see that she was right and the place is empty. She ambles over to one of the stalls and gets in, turning on the water and absently humming the last song to play on her workout playlist.
The sound of the music makes Beca think of the two seniors she met at the activities fair last month. She's sad that she still hasn't seen them again. Beca knows it is a big campus but a big part of her has been hoping for that twist of fate that will throw her into their company once more. The brunette still can't believe she was so out of it she didn't ask for their names.
She could've had Danny hack the school and pull their schedules or something.
Which sounds really stalker-ish now that she thinks about it. Too stalker-ish for Danny. But not Stiles. Beca thinks wryly. He would totally help me hack the school so I could meet up with an incredibly sexy redhead and a stunning blonde. She smirks. Her brother has no boundaries, something she both hates and adores about him.
Or you could do it the easy way. her inner voice suddenly chimes. Beca lofts an eyebrow. Oh? And what's the easy way?
Just try out for their singing group. You have the voice for it and it guarantees you some face time.
No. Beca immediately thinks. Memories of the fire flicker through her mind and she feels a phantom pain in her lungs.
Yes. Her conscious is unrelenting. Fucker.
NO!
Oh my god dude, stop arguing with yourself and just do it. You've been obsessing over those two for weeks and the doctors cleared you months ago. You're fine.
Beca growls in frustration. Stupid logical self with your stupid logical arguments.
Trying out for the Bellas would guarantee her at least one more interaction with the beautiful seniors. If she went she could definitely get their names and maybe even their phone numbers or something. But just to hang out! As friends. Because you just want to be friends. With both of them. Right.
But trying out for the Bellas also means singing and that's just not something Beca has tried to do since before she got hospitalized. Sure she's hummed a bit and she was rapping earlier. But rapping isn't singing, it's talking in a different tone of voice.
The DJ sighs. The truth is she's missed singing. Doing anything with her voice hurt like a bitch for such a long time after she was released. But she's been talking for a while now and there hasn't been any pain. By this point, singing shouldn't be a problem either.
Making up her mind, Beca decides to try singing in here. Shower acoustics are legendary so if she wants to know how she sounds, this is a pretty good place for it. Besides, the bathroom is empty so no one will know if her voice sucks or something.
And if it's that bad or it hurts she can just stop and get Stiles to hack some records. She can bribe him with the newest Batman comic if she needs to.
And if her voice feels and sounds fine then Beca can decide if she wants to go the try-outs. She'll have to look it up but she's sure there's a time and a date on a website somewhere….
Slow your roll, Beca. the brunette thinks. You still have to see if you have a voice to audition with.
She takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. She can do this. The notes of the song she was just humming roll around her head. She takes another deep breath and lets go.
"You shout it out but I don't hear a word you say…" A grin comes across Beca's face. She's just as good as she remembered. "I'm talking loud, not saying much."
Her voice floats around the bathroom and echoes back, making it sound like there's three of her singing instead of just one. Her voice builds as her confidence grows and she couldn't wipe the smile from her face if she tried. It just feels so good to be singing again. She wishes she had done it earlier.
"I'm criticized, but all your bullets ricochet. Shoot me down, but I get up."
She stops moving and lets her eyes flutter shut. She wants to enjoy this, to remember the way it feels.
"I'm bulletproof, nothing to lose. Fire away, fire away. Ricochet, you take your aim. Fire away, fire away."
She pauses briefly then puts all the emotion she can into the chorus.
"You shoot me down, but I won't fall. I am titanium. Shoot me down but I won't fall. I am titanium."
Beca stops and lets the last few notes hover around her. She's remembering why this song is her absolute favorite. Anthem of my life the DJ chuckles. She shakes her head then takes a few more deep breaths. She doesn't want to stop singing, not ever again. But before she can open her mouth and start back up, the curtain to her stall is ripped open and a strangely familiar voice screeches
"You can sing!"
Everything gets a little blurry after that.