author's notes: I noticed that my chapters have fewer words than most fics have per chapter. On word document typing out 3 pages seems so much to me, yet on this platform it isnt. o. O I should add more next time. Kommissar is being introduced next chapter. And yes the end-game depends on my friend's choice of whether she wants chloe, kommissar or jesse. I'm still grateful and shocked that people read this, I was happy with just 4 people. thank you again for reading this far
Chapter 4: Lets get Physical
Chloe
C'mon Chloe, you can do this. All you have to do is just get out of this rented car, walk across the street and knock on the door. Beca's roommate is expecting you, sure she sounded less enthused and hospitable when you told her that you had to pick up Beca's things, but at least you're not the IRS in disguise. I'm a people's person – I can- my pep talk was interrupted by the vibration of my phone.
"Chlo, where the hell have you been off to? I've called your work and they said that you've filed a request to move to a Nevada hospital, a branch that happens to be owned by your family?! I thought you were doing the whole independent, 'I won't use my family's connections' thing?"
I bit my bottom lip and breathed out to brace myself against Bre's onslaught.
"Hey Bre, about that… do you remember the girl we ran over in Dusty town?"
"Yes…wait are you still there? That was two weeks ago! We thought you help settled her in and called Tom to pick you up. "
"Yep, I'm just waiting for approval to move her from their local hospital to the Nevada branch, since its closer for her."
"Chlo, if you help them they might keep going to you and take advantage of you. Where are you right now? I'll text Tom to pick you up then.
"I'm – " I desperately looked around for something to save me: it came in the form of a candy wrapper. Putting the wrapper against the microphone part, I started crumpling it, "Bre, I can't hear you! I'm going through a tunnel!"
"Chlo what are you talking about, your phone has a strong signal! I know because they tested it out in the wilderness when you lent it to Fat Amy and she ordered a 12 foot sub and a male stripper from the next town over! Chlo, we're not finished here!"
I felt slightly guilty doing that to Aubrey, but my mission wasn't complete. I asked Jesse if he could pick up Beca's things so when she does wake up: she could feel at ease with a slice of home with her. Yet, he shook his head and sheepishly smiled, saying that his time was eaten up by work or filming and visiting Beca. He usually brought movies with him to show her and did commentaries on the side. He avoided his usual place at the diner and no longer took the route that drove by her house. I had a feeling Jesse avoided all those places because it would confront the reality of her not actually being here.
It's been days and we haven't been able to contact anyone on her emergency list. Except for the diner where she works, Jesse and her ever so evasive silent flat mate. Her flat mate easily could've been a cat, as we only heard faint brushing noises of lips/whisker murmuring. Maybe she is a cat; what if Beca is one of those types of people that have their cats as a contact? I caught myself using the patient's first name again. I can't get attached to my patients, I've already gotten embroiled in her affairs. That really isn't a good sign, before my mind could reprimand myself.
My phone vibrated again:
"Ms. Beale, we have good and bad news. Which would you like first?" said Nurse Betty.
"I'd like to believe, I'm an optimist. Hit me with either, Nurse Betty."
"Hahah I do like that kind of attitude, okay first off good news: approval came in through fax and email for the transfer of Beca Mitchells. Bad news her parents replied via snail mail heading here the same day."
"Aren't those all good news?"
"Oh dear I know you don't know this, but Beca's parents are infamous for fighting like cats and dogs. They're arriving here today around late afternoon; both haven't specified the exact time."
"But isn't the reason they're here is because their daughter is in the hospital?"
"We'll see how they'll handle it, if not we can try to subdue one of them and break the news."
"Thanks for the heads up and take care over there, Betty."
I ended the call and unbuckled my seat belt. I'm going to woman up and try not to get too personal with this patient and her life. I bounded up to their landing and wrapped my knuckles against the door. A few minutes later the door opened up just a crack.
"Good morning! I'm Chloe Beale, I contacted you three days ago about picking up Beca's things and you moved the pick-up date to today. Wait you are the Kimmy on the phone, right? Or else this whole conversation would make it seem like I'm just inviting myself in to steal your stuff. " I laughed and beamed her smile, but none of it seems to phase her deadpanned expression. She nodded and opened the door wider, watching me with distrustful eyes.
"Oh, I see you've already packed up her things –"
"No, those are mine. Beca and I had already settled the end of the month rent; I'm going to dorm on campus this semester." Kimmy clipped out briskly, leading me to the direction of Beca's room.
"Wait does everything have to go?" I asked. Kimmy nodded.
I was wondering how much stuff did Beca own, trying to calculate how many trips it would take for me to get her stuff. When Kimmy opened Beca's door, the problem was solved. I turned my head to thank her, but she already retreated back to an adjacent door. Inside the room was a quilted blanket, articles of clothing half folded on the bed or flung on the floor, a laptop with clunky earphones attached to it and a black attaché case under her bed, which I deemed to be helpful. I only brought a small box with me, thinking to only take essentials of home back to her.
Okay, I can do this. LET'S GET PHYSICAL, CHLOE BEALE!
I started to fold her quilted blanket, throw her dirty clothes into a laundry bag at the corner, getting her knickknacks altogether and fold her clothes. Four hours of non-stop work, I wiped the sweat from my forehead and laid my hands on my hips: content with the work done. I just have to borrow a few trash bags to use as temp bags, and then fit the ones that I can into the box and case.
Opening the case, Chloe found another personal tidbit about her patient: Beca Mitchells has a musical talent. Inside was a beat-up Numark Dj controller with cables and posters of gigs in local clubs with her name featured on them.
A soft knock was at the door; Chloe closed the case with care and dusted off her knees before turning the doorknob.
"Here are some extra boxes; I noticed that you only brought one." Kimmy's brisk tone softened slightly, bringing in four extra boxes. Beca's flat mate stayed to help Chloe pack the boxes and load them in.
"Thanks for everything, Kimmy. How about you, do you need any help getting your stuff out?"
Kimmy shook her head.
"No, my family and friends will be arriving later to help me move. Take care of her, please." She nodded solemnly and closed the door.
I carried the case with me and placed it on shotgun. I glanced at the boxes piled on the floor and passenger seats with a few excess at the boot of the car to make sure everything was secured to go. I checked my phone and noticed that I had a few miss calls and multiple texts from the hospital. I felt a brief moment of panic.
The phone rang again in my hands.
"Doctor Beale!"
"Is everything okay!?"
"Come quickly, there's a show down about to happen."
"Wait what?"
\
Random question: how many pages do people usually write in Word document for a chapter on fanfiction?
Extra:
Beca
I can't sleep: sometimes when I'm suspended in darkness, I just wait for your voice to soothe me. I can hear you through the clouds, debating with yourself on the pros and cons of reading Dostoevsky's "crime and punishment" or chernychevsky's "what is to be done". Then you'd stop to wonder whether or not I would be the type to like Russian literature, then you'd switch to tell me stories about yourself. Those stories were what I waited for, figment of my imagination or not.