And then I've finally posted a new chapter! I am so so sorry. Please forgive me.
charliepollock1357, purplefurball, bechloe-is-titanium, asdfg, madness2013, RobOverstreet, NightmareWalker, By3, Guest (Apr 17), Guest (Apr 27): I am so sorry. Really, I am.
Kwtwix: Looks like Stacie really won everybody's hearts back in Stolen, huh? :) Believe it or not, Rem is actually based on a real person whom I've never met. Weird, I know.
JCM-SB: We all have our weaknesses.
frenchyloop: If I'm being honest, I'd say I enjoyed reading all of your reviews. Thank you very much! And sorry for, you know, some disappointment. Well, Skyler is... give me some time to figure it out.
PitchPerfectLover: It's probably creepy but I think I can totally hear your voice (although I've never heard it before) when you were saying that Beca should make Ben suffer. Oh and I still love you for laughing at my jokes!
avidreader: Hakuna Matata! :)
Rennie Laroche: Retarded Ben. Creative. I like it.
Yan: Don't remind me about that feels, man. It's so heartbreaking. Catelyn. T.T
Illithyia: Let's see if matches mine.
MysticFalls94: Honestly, wow. You're one of my most avid readers, and I wasn't expecting it would have that much of an effect on you. So, wow.
Guest (Apr 17): Thanks, dude! :)
Kartofell: Let's see if we could go further.
aimeekiwi93: Chloe as a fox? Maybe we can do something about that.
DieZeitVergeht: Man, you had me laughing with that drunk thing. Should I be flattered that you're reading my story when you're hammered? :)
chile101: Is the bunny happy?
DJBMitch: Patience, my dear.
Freezing Fyre: I'm open to constructive criticisms, don't worry. In fact, I do appreciate it. But I think I'm going to have to defend myself at some point. (1) I'm not sure I mentioned someone dying immediately from gunshots. Besides, time is rarely discussed in details; only during crucial moments. Implied, maybe blood loss and bullets blowing off a skull? Yeah, I know nothing about gunshot wounds, and movies aren't accurate when it comes to that. People still fall for it anyway, don't they? (2) Maybe it wasn't clear, but there's a difference between Pandemonium and The Secret Society. The club is not just some cover up for some secret criminal headquarters. First and foremost, it's a business, one of The Society's source of funding. The first one was a success and so naming a new one after the old would be, I think, a nice strategy to get your old customers' attention to begin with (cue in Thud's alibi when Chloe asked Lilly who posed as the owner about the name of the club). Present a new and improved product, and you're back in business. Besides, I think I've constantly explained in the chapters that since Bumper thought Beca was already dead, he didn't pay much attention to The Society anymore. (3) Yeah, I was being casual. I'd like to think of myself more of a storyteller than a writer who has all these standards to follow. And grammatical mistakes? I try to minimize them. After all, English is not my native language. In fact, I hated that class back in high school. (4) Any suggestions? (5) Uh... I think that's exactly my intent for those parts. PS. Thanks for leaving a review for Stolen. :)
I don't know what to feel about this chapter, but I think I've mentioned butt/ass a lot of times. Now read on, crickets.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN: codenamephoenix
It was the same Friday night, just a couple more minutes until the clock would strike twelve. This eve seemed to be the longest of them all as if time was intentionally slowing down against The Secret Society's favor. Anticipating for the Syndics to come and strike them down was starting to be such a drag even for Fat Amy who then decided to make things a little more enjoyable – for her – by putting Total Eclipse of the Heart on repeat into the intercom system. It was horrendous. The elevators linked to the club were all shut down, and nobody was allowed to go up to the surface without the Head Phoenix's permission. Everybody was trapped inside the underground headquarters, waiting for the green light.
Every inch of skin was drenching in sweat and a pair of lips spitting out a mouthful of grunts in time for every move. Chloe threw in one punch after another according to what she had learned from her most recent lessons. Her fists, in an alternate pattern, needed to land somewhere on her trainer's upper body, but Rem was easily dodging them even opening up her mouth for one long yawn to purposely express her boredom.
"You punch like a girl," she taunted, lazily deflecting the attacks that was categorized as sloppy according to her personal standards.
"That's just mean!" the fragile ladybug glared back as her jab missed its target. "It's sexist."
"You can do better than this crap, Ariel."
"I'm trying!"
From out of the blue, Rem blocked one more punch with her arm and hit her apprentice so hard that Chloe got too dizzy that she fell back on her butt. She pressed a palm against her cheek, hoping to ease the enormous pain. The rest of the Training Center fell silent, flabbergasted. The crazy blonde just did the unthinkable – laying a finger on the untouchable.
"What was that for?" Chloe whined, throwing a dirty look at who was supposed to be her friend and checked her fingers if there was any indication that her cheek was bleeding because it hurt very fucking much.
"I'm sorry," blondie said in an obvious sarcasm, a very insincere apology. "Were you trying to swat away some flies? I wasn't entirely sure, so I had to… you know, whatever."
"You should have given me the heads up that you were going to fight me back!"
"Your enemies won't," the trainer stressed out the cruelty of reality. Dropping her gaze, she saw the realization painted all over the innocent face. She let out a sigh and extended a hand for the lady on the ground. "Here. Let me help you."
Chloe took the hand and propped herself up when she was suddenly pulled in an aggressive manner and before she knew it, she was already lying on her stomach, pinned down on the floor with one cheek pressed against the cold surface, her arms strategically locked in behind her and a traitor's knee keeping her down. Damn it.
"Never trust the enemy," was lesson number two for this particular training session. Rem eventually released the victim from her merciless grip and climbed off. She grabbed Chloe by the hand and genuinely helped her return to her feet this time. "You okay?"
"Yes," the redhead meekly nodded.
"Am I good teacher or what?"
"I'm learning a lot of things so I guess so," the young heiress shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly. "Not so much of a good friend though."
Rem rolled her eyes at the bad image. "So what's the most important lesson I've taught you?"
Whoa. Nobody warned the student about a pop quiz in the middle of a physical examination.
"K-Keep your guard up?" she answered the first thing that came into mind. The stammering, slow pace of speaking and the rising intonation gave away her uncertainty. There were too many lessons, yet all of them seemed to be equally important in her opinion. "Never team up with Aubrey?"
"Hey!" the Posen heiress who was posted in her own station protested. "I heard that!"
The teacher walked towards her student, drawing a closer distance between them, leaning forward until her lips could barely touch the sensitive skin upon Chloe's ear. What was it with people deriving pleasure from making the girl with the ladybug tattoo feel utterly uncomfortable?
"You are not allowed to die," the cheat code whispered, sending that playful tickle.
"W-What?"
Rem pulled herself away and directed her eyes to the pair of blue ones. "The mighty Phoenix is your very own marionette. Just say the word and she'll do all the fuck you want. You are the fuel that keeps the killer machine going, so you're not allowed to die ,Chloe… or else the fire would burn out. Do you understand?"
"But… h-how do we do that?" Chloe questioned because the last time she checked she was still a mortal creature who could die any time that fate would permit it.
Blondie put on a smirk, that mischievous smirk she would usually wear each time she had some naughty idea. Without any premature warning, she began to advance towards her inquisitive trainee. Chloe made the effort of backing away cautiously, but the distance still grew closer with every step.
"W-What are you doing?" she croaked.
The other ordered too casually and maniacally at the same time, "Hurt me."
"Excuse me?"
"Smack me hard."
"Hell no!"
"Beat me up. Come on."
"Why on earth would I do that?" the redhead shrieked out, rattled. She could literally hear the running clock – tic toc tic toc…
"Kill me if you want to."
"Rem! You are being completely ridiculous!"
"I am going to kiss you," warned the crazy blonde as if it was the most dangerous thing she could ever do to the young heiress. Well, it was, to be honest. With all eyes and ears set on them and the CCTV recording this pivotal moment, it was almost impossible to bury it in secrecy especially from a very jealous girlfriend in the person of a horrible monster that was Beca Mitchell. "You have three seconds, ladybug. Three seconds."
Chloe deliberately swallowed the lump in her throat while her feet ultimately had no other choice but to make a halt. She then realized how dangerously close they were. Rem wasn't telling a lie. She would definitely do it when she said she would. She was a Beca without even trying to be.
One… Chloe gave the finger as a warning, but the other simply ignored it and pushed the distraction away. Two… there was just no stopping Rem anymore as she leaned in to do what she had promised. Three… it was just something that had happened so fast. Chloe shut her eyes closed and threw in her fist. After what seemed forever, she finally remembered to breathe and opened her eyes to see her teacher was laughing in amusement, happily wiping off the blood trickling out of her nose.
"God, I'm so sorry!" she was in a state of panic for hurting another human being.
"I'm fine. I knew there's a tiger in there." Rem raised her hand to award her student with a thumbs up. "I'll give you a B+ because it hurts but I'm still standing"
Chloe scoffed in enlightenment. "You did it on purpose, didn't you?"
"Maybe."
"You're the worst."
"I just gave you a B+!" exclaimed the other. "You want an A? Okay, I'll give you a chance. Now take this, amateur."
Her right foot was quickly poised to launch an attack; good thing the redhead was alert enough to move out of the way in time. Rem, however, didn't stop there. She launched additional attacks, testing the trainee to her limits. Before long, the simple hand-to-hand combat was upgraded into something more with both fighters permitted to use whatever weapon available in the room. After quite some time, the crazy blonde pushed Chloe against the wall, locking her with training sticks.
"You're dead," she pronounced. "What have I taught you? You're not allowed to die."
Gone were the days when Chloe was just a fragile young heiress. She glared at her oppressor and pushed her hard on the chest then kicked her right on the stomach to free herself. She picked her own set of arnis from the shelf and advanced towards the contender. She was striking stronger, faster, more accurate, and deadlier. Her teacher had never been much prouder. Rem tossed an attack but Chloe ducked and as she did, her arnis hit the other on the feet solid enough to make the blonde lose her balance and fell on her side.
"You're dead," Chloe proudly smirked while the pair of training sticks kept the other down on the floor.
"I'm such an awesome teacher," the crazy blonde vainly praised herself while she helped herself up. "You're welcome."
Suddenly, Chloe felt a hand held her by the shoulder. What was the first thing she learned again? Be alert and be prepared. She grabbed the hand and swung the whole arm down causing the intruder to somersault in the air. When she turned around, much to everybody's shock, the Head Phoenix just landed on her back.
"Oh my god," Chloe rushed to help her girlfriend. "I'm so sorry."
But the notorious brunette was overcome with pride and so refused the help. She already had her death stare fixed on the snickering blonde behind the redhead. Rem was fully aware about the foreign presence and she knew that the trainee would react this way.
"I trained your bitch pretty well, didn't I?" she grinned to add up to the tone of mockery. "Have you seen her throw a knife? She'll be better than you."
"She's not going in the field," Beca insisted in spite of the protests she was immediately getting from her girlfriend. "We have a problem, cheat code."
"What?"
"You."
Come on! What did she do this time?
"It's been days and still there's no attack."
Rem shrugged. "I told you I don't know when, but it's going to happen."
"They're gone," the Head Phoenix shared the new found information. "I got an official report from Thud. The Syndics camping around have already evacuated the area."
"Maybe they'll come back," Chloe was the one who blurted out the idea. She was starting to feel nervous about the implication of the report because if the Syndics never attack, it was her to be blamed for a false tip and not Rem.
Beca disregarded the theory. She glared at the crazy blonde instead, and threatened her, "You better not be messing around with me. If you turn out to be an enemy… I suggest that you run away and hide. Although, I will find you."
"Don't worry," assured the other. "I'm saving you the trouble. I'm still your friend even if you don't trust me."
"Beca!" Fat Amy and Jesse suddenly burst in through the door, running as fast as they could towards the boss. The urgency in their voice, their promptness, and their facial expression were already a giveaway as to what kind of news they could possibly bring. "We've just intercepted a signal from a fire detector in Barden. We've already sent the Disaster Team."
The Mitchells automatically exchanged a look – their mother was in danger and they had to rescue her and the rest of what could have left of the Barden Homes. Beca instructed her girlfriend to stay in the headquarters where she could be safer before rushing out of the door with Stan and Cynthia-Rose. Silently, Chloe turned to Rem, more than worried. Could it be? Was the tip a fake? Were they tricked by The Syndicate? But it was Chloe's dad who gave the warning. So what would the others say if they would ever find out that it was the sweet little ginger angel who technically put Barden in danger?
"Is there anything we can do to help?" inquired Aubrey.
"Monitor and then wait," Fat Amy answered, dismayed by the very limited number of options available for them. "Come on, let's go up to the Communication Center."
The room was vacated fast; everybody hurried to reach the destination that nobody seemed to have noticed a significant IT expert who was attempting to stray away from the group. Jesse patiently slowed down his pace until he was left behind in the hallway. He pulled out his pocket PC device and typed in some commands. Soon, the surveillance cameras in the hallway were sending a different picture to the monitors. He could then freely walk around without stirring suspicion. He navigated his way towards the elevator capsule where he pulled out his keycard to reactivate the system and beckon the mobile vessel. A pair of Syndics stood inside.
"Here," Jesse handed a USB dongle to one of the men as soon as the capsule presented an opening. "That's the information from the cabin. Now go. I'll take care of the rest."
The Syndics nodded their heads and so with a push of a button, the capsule door closed and then began to lift the trespassers back to the ground. The old Phoenix used his keycard to deactivate the elevator once more. He hurried back to the main hallway, fixed up the cameras, and proceeded to the Communication Center to join the rest of the team.
Speechless, Beca Mitchell stood at the center of the main lobby of the Barden Homes building. She had been staring at the wall for the last hour or so, reading the scribbled words over and over until she could hear a thousand voices crying it out loud inside her head. There were too many people to save and too much pain to bear. She closed her eyes and breathed in and out just to remind herself that she was still alive and so must carry on. Unfortunately, it only sharpened her senses.
She could still smell blood with every breath she took. She could imagine hearing the cries of the dying during those last moments; they were ringing endlessly in her ears. Her body shuddered when she realized that she was still standing in the middle of twenty disintegrated corpses scattered everywhere in the main lobby. And when she opened her eyes, the same message on the wall, written in blood, was still glaring back at her.
How do you like it, Phoenix?
She could just picture out the satisfaction upon Bumper's face, that stupid devilish smirk or the fit of laughter erupting from his mouth. How could somebody simply slaughter a hundred people, all of which were innocent? Never was death this haunting for a daunting beast.
"Kiddo!"
Her brother's voice echoed in the mourning hall as he approached her. Beca never turned around to face him. She couldn't face anybody at this point, not when she just failed in front of the entire universe. She wasn't able to protect all these people, all these kids.
"They're almost done taking away the bodies from the second floor," he reported. "They should be clearing up here soon."
She didn't respond.
"I've talked to the Council members. They will do their best to keep things low. They will handle the benefactors as well. You know we can't afford to let this become a big deal to the public eye. We have to make Barden disappear from history like it never existed."
"But it does," the younger Mitchell muttered and paused. She was using the wrong tense. "It did."
Stan heaved out a sigh. How would he make the condition seemed at least humane?
"How's mom?" she asked.
"She's safe now. She's a smart ass for thinking of triggering the fire detector to send us a signal for help. It would have been too late. She's already been brought to the infirmary with the other survivors. Skyler is personally supervising things, so they should be fine."
"What about Maverick?"
"Maverick," he repeated the name. This time, his voice lowered down. How would he break the unfortunate news to his sister? "Maverick is… Y-You don't want to see him right now."
She remained quiet in surrender. She didn't insist. Perhaps, it was better this way – not knowing.
"Are you alright, kiddo?" he had to ask.
Beca shook her head, "I don't like it."
He followed his sister's gaze to read the writings on the wall. "It's not your fault."
"I wasn't here to save them."
"We were tricked. We were made to stay in."
"Bumper has found us," she spelled out the trouble. "But we haven't found him. Trying to fight him back would be like battling an invisible man. They can strike us again anytime, anywhere, whether we're prepared for them or not. It doesn't matter now, Stan. Our advantage has fallen. They've shed a light on the shadows."
"He's weak," argued the other. "He's scared of you. He could have attacked Pandemonium to finish us all already, but he didn't. He went for the easy target."
She scoffed.
"Besides, you have something he doesn't and he wants it so bad. You still have the advantage."
Stupid treasure. Where on earth was it buried?
"Now let's go check on mom," Stan gripped her arm gently to haul her away from the wall to leave. "We better be there when she wakes up. You still have a question to ask her."
Both walked away cautiously with chins up and gazes set straight ahead. It was much easier to walk that way. It gave a lighter feeling in the chest especially when their consciousness kept reminding them that where they tread was filled with dead people. Fine, The Syndicate won this round. The Society would not commit the same mistake in the future. The Phoenix would rise back from the dead – stronger and more dangerous.
"You lied to me!" Clarence yelled at the younger man. He was furious, alright?
"Did I?" Bumper wore his best innocent face.
"You fucking son of a bitch!"
"We retrieved the information," the Head Syndic pointed out what should have been a reason for celebration as he held up the stolen dongle for his furious partner to see. "I led the operation. Technically, I didn't lie to you."
"You didn't attack Pandemonium!" Clarence grabbed the young man by the shirt threateningly. The Syndics automatically directed their loaded guns towards the disrespectful guest. Even with Paul and a few other bodyguards as backup, they were still outnumbered by the hosting party. This could end in a bloodshed; their blood.
Bumper waved his hand as a signal to his men and offered his signature smirk to the former Phoenix. "Alright, alright. I lied. But so did you, Mr. Beale. You're not supposed to be complaining right now if you really are on the same team with me. Hmm?"
Clarence was caught off guard that he lost the tightness of his grip on the devil. It was a trick, a test, and he failed. Of course, Bumper Allen would never give anybody a chance. He never really cared about whoever Clarence had decided to choose in the first place. After all, they were all the same – an enemy, in his book. He only cared about himself and the treasure. The rest of the players in this game were nothing but disposable cups. Worse part though was the fact that Clarence, for the nth time, had made yet another wrong decision.
"It was a brilliant plan all in all, isn't it, Mr. Beale?" the Head Syndic winked as he straightened his clothes and then grabbed his cup of slurpee. "No worries. I'm not going to kill you… yet."
"What are you waiting for?"
"The truth is you made my plan even better. I knew you were going to tell your daughter. Although, I didn't know she holds significant control over The Society as much as the mighty Phoenix. The road was pretty clear for me tonight. I wonder how she's going to face her own father when she realizes that you put all her loved ones in danger. I wonder how Beca would react the moment she sees that her mother is dead. Poor kid. Both parents gone."
"I can't wait for the day you finally rot in hell."
A delightful chuckle was the response. "Then you will be waiting for a very long time, dude."
"I'm out of here," declared the other and turned his heels around to leave.
The Head Syndic made a small nod and his men quickly blocked all possible exits, cornered the men in black suits, and forced the old Phoenix to face the boss one more time.
"A deal is a deal, dude."
"What do you still need me for?" the redhead spitted out.
"This," the young brunet used his head to refer to the dongle. "Just in case your pawn, Benji, put another riddle in there, I need you to interpret it for me. Besides, I figured you could be the best armor, the perfect shield. Beca will find me. And then kill me. But of course, she can't do that if I have you by the neck."
"What makes you think I'm still going to help you?"
"Oh you will help me." Bumper was grinning, triumphant in his endeavor. "Slaughtering your one and only daughter? It'll be a piece of cake, Mr. Beale."
Clarence was poised to attack – the will and courage was there – but was vigilantly restrained by the inferior Syndics. He was defenseless, hopeless, and useless all in all.
"Lock him in," the Head Syndic made the command.
Sunlight should have begun to creep up in the morning sky by this time, peering through the clouds to brighten up the commencement of someone's day and hopefully the rest of it. It was raining, though, that came and had fallen from heaven. Tears. Lots and lots of tears in grief.
Her brother was right, and Beca should have listened. She didn't want to see Maverick. Not like this. Her best friend was lying unconscious in a hospital bed at an infirmary hidden in an underground facility the little guy never even knew existed in the first place. But it wasn't this view that hurt the most. It's the tragic irreversible fact that when he would wake up from his deep sleep, he would find both his legs already gone.
Beca shifted her gaze a little more to the side to witness her girlfriend silently crying her eyes out in her seat, and it was the hardest, the most difficult part. The mighty Phoenix had to endure watching them both suffer for her own failures, for her lost battles.
"Hey," she gently rested a hand upon Chloe's leg. "You haven't slept all night. You haven't eaten anything."
But the other wasn't responding to the attempts of comfort, too heartbroken.
"Chloe."
Still nothing. Perhaps, it was her turn to be a very quiet cricket except Beca could hear her agonizing sobs.
"Babe, it's going to be fine."
"Eight," a word was finally able to escape the redhead's mouth. "That's the number of people who survived, all of them scarred for life. Your mom almost died back there. And Maverick… look at him, Beca. Look at him."
Beca sighed and then toughened herself. That's what she had to do. "He'll be fine."
"He lost his legs!" quietly exclaimed the other. "His legs were cut off like tearing up a perforated line on some concert ticket! He's just a kid, Beca! He doesn't even know or understand what's going on! I… I-I should have… There had to be something I could have done to save him, and I didn't do it!"
"No," the brunette turned her body to the side and reached for her girlfriend's hand. "It's not your fault, alright?"
Chloe stared back at the Phoenix. But it was, she argued in her head. She was the one who betrayed The Secret Society. If it weren't for her stupid false alarm, none of these would have ever happened. They were supposed to be in the game later in the afternoon with everyone looking all too joyous; Maverick still had his legs and leading his team to victory. Yes, the pang of guilt was chewing her alive.
"I have to go." She pulled her hand away and stood up, ready to leave.
"Wait, where are you going?"
"I'll go check on Rem."
The Head Phoenix scoffed in disbelief. "She's still here?"
"She's not going anywhere. She still needs some medical attention after what you did to her."
"She's a traitor!"
"You don't know that!" the formerly fragile redhead raised her voice in assertion. Really, she wasn't as weak as they all thought she was. "She stays, Beca."
They spent the next one whole minute in a staring contest, waiting for the other to initiate war. Nobody made an attempt, so Chloe gave her girlfriend one last look and left. Beca clicked her tongue and sank in her chair, glaring at the entire galaxy. She really hated it when they had to be in different teams. Couldn't they just make out all day?
"Naked or not, spending mornings with you two has always been so awkward."
The young Mitchell, utterly startled, speedily jumped off her seat and pushed aside the curtain divider to check on the patient occupying the next hospital bed. Her mother was beaming at her like nothing bad ever happened.
"Do I look like… shit?" asked Ronie. She was almost killed, yet here she was worrying about how she looked in front of her daughter.
Slowly, Beca's lips curved into a genuine smile. "You… look… you look alive, mom."
"You could have gone with 'fantastic'," the other complained then pushed herself up only to lie back down when the pain stung from her gunshot wound and traveled across her entire body. "Ow."
The Head Phoenix rushed to her mother's side. "Just lie down and rest."
"Do I even have a choice?" the older brunette groaned and sighed. "I see everyone here is… well, alive. That evil Bumper didn't attack you, did he? Where's your brother?"
"I think he went to his room to take a shower. He'll be here in a few."
"So do you want to tell me about that thing earlier with your girlfriend, young lady?"
"It's nothing," Beca muttered in response.
"We both know that she's never been nothing to you."
"It's just a misunderstanding. We'll figure it out."
"Eight, is it?" the patient suddenly asked for confirmation. Well, it was useless. She could confirm it all by herself. And she was calm, surprisingly. She was doing very well handling the situation, hiding her grief in her composure. But it couldn't last a minute. The tears just couldn't contain the emotions any longer. The strong woman in Veronica Grant had begun breaking down.
"Barden is gone, mom."
There was no better time to let the cat out of the bag. There was no easier way to reveal the very unpleasant truth.
"It no longer exists. It never existed."
"It was my home," Ronie contemplated, wiping off her tears. "It kept me alive all these years, and then some crazy people just destroyed it in one night?"
"Bumper will die," promised the mighty Phoenix whole-heartedly. "He will suffer. I will make sure of that. For putting a bullet in you and for all the fucking shit he did."
And there was silence. Her mother made no further response except from awkwardly gaping back, a bit confused that it was almost suspicious. It took her some time, but Ronie managed to put the puzzle pieces together - the Head Phoenix didn't know. Hence, the rest of them probably had no idea as well. It was Ben. Ben McDouglas was the one who pulled the trigger, and they didn't know about it or the truth of his relationship with Bumper Allen.
"Mom?" she was pulled back from her thoughts by her daughter's worried voice. "Anything wrong? Does your wound hurt? Should I call a doctor?"
Ronie shook her head and smiled in assurance. She remained speechless, however. Just staring back at the poor ignorant. Maybe it was for the best because this meant that Ben could stay away from the monster's radar. He was still a good man, the older brunette believed. He was just a victim here too, a victim of his very own criminal brother.
"Mom!"
"That thing between you and Chloe," the patient finally spoke out. "Maybe you should listen to your girlfriend. You know, one can only be called a traitor when one has been considered a friend. And a friend would do anything, I mean anything, to save a friend."
The notorious brunette scoffed, her special way of saying 'bullshit'. If there was any colder way to do it. That annoying bitch, a friend? She'd rather die.
"Sit," her mother ordered. Chances for heart-to-heart talk never came too often.
Beca didn't move to do as she was told. Instead, she was being the typical rebellious child she was and simply stood in place. Her older version narrowed her eyes as a form of warning. Why the hell didn't she go after Chloe again? She wouldn't have to be in this conversation. Nonetheless, she ultimately reached for a chair to sit upon.
"He was one courageous little man," said the Chief Directress, glancing over to the brave little warrior lying unconscious on the next hospital bed.
The young Mitchell didn't follow the gaze, not even for a brief moment. It hurt to see him in such condition. Every single time.
"Do you have any idea why they cut his legs off?" Ronie popped out the question.
"For fun?"
"Maverick literally kicked Bumper's ass," the other revealed, chuckling and shaking her head in amusement as she spoke. Of all people, one innocent kid succeeded in that area.
Stupid kid, Beca thought. She knew his mischievousness would get him into trouble.
"He… he was right there. He saw everything, in fact. He opened the door, and he had a tray on hand with a cup of coffee. Decaf. For me. You see, he always does that whenever I work late. Even when it's way past his bedtime. Such a little rascal. Then as he came in, the gunshot was already fired at me. I think I collapsed on the floor… blacked out, I can't really remember. The next thing I knew, I heard voices. The table was obstructing my view, and I couldn't make myself move. I just assume Maverick was bravely trying to fight them off, and they were laughing at him because he possibly looked ridiculous until… Bumper was yelling at him angrily for, you know, getting his ass kicked by a kid. Then, he simply gave the order. 'Get the damn fire axe and cut off his legs,' he told his men. 'Teach this fool a lesson.' All I heard from then on was screaming… and screaming… and screaming. They had started killing the rest. I-"
"Stop," the Head Phoenix demanded. It was surprising that she didn't yell it out. Listening to the story, it was suffocating. The voices, the screaming, she could hear them all in her head.
"The soccer game," her mother went on in spite of the request. "This afternoon. Everybody worked hard to prepare for it. That's why I was working late."
"Mom, stop it."
But Ronie only fixed her eyes on her daughter and told her a little secret. "Maverick really wanted to win, to score as much goals as he could. And it meant a lot to him that you see him play. He wanted you to be proud of him, Beca. But now… with his legs…"
"I am proud of him," admitted the horrible monster. "I never told him that. But I am."
Her mother smirked. "My daughter is a human being."
"You're annoying," Beca shot back and stood. She pulled out a lighter from her pocket and handed it over to its owner. "They found it next to the burning trash bin that triggered the fire detector."
The patient enjoyed the sight of the lighter in her hand. "I told you I'd find a purpose for you."
"I guess we all owe Lilly one then." Even the mighty Phoenix was letting out a laugh – how the Asian woman's weird obsession with lighting up fires had saved her mother. From out of the blue, she was reminded about the question they needed to be answered: what did her mother know about the treasure? However, Beca already had a better idea, a more helpful question. "Mom?"
"What?"
"How did you survive? When you fell off the bridge right into the river and we all thought you're dead, how did you manage to live? Last time you said, somebody helped you. Who saved you?"
"Why are you suddenly interested?"
"Because Benji said you're the missing link. Mom, you gave me the key! So now whoever helped you could lead us to the treasure."
"No, Beca. I don't think so."
"What? Mom, this could be it!"
"You're wrong."
"Just… give me a name. Tell me who it is. We've got to try."
Ronie paused. She could see the desperation on her daughter's face, the plea for rescue. Fine, maybe this was the price to pay for not disclosing Ben's real identity – confess the biggest secret she'd been keeping all this time. "You want a name?"
"Yes, please."
"Phil Mitchell."
No, it wasn't at all what Beca had expected. Phil Mitchell? The Phil Mitchell? Her father? But he was the very person who ordered her to kill Veronica Grant. He was the very first one who wanted to search for this freaking treasure. So how? Why? It seemed like Benji got it wrong. It wasn't her mother, but her father, who was the missing link. Beca found herself pulling for the chair, sitting down. This conversation with her mother was going to take longer than she wished for apparently.
Stan stood under the showerhead imagining himself standing in front of a roaring crowd begging for more rock music. His eyes was shut tightly closed, feeling the intensity of the rhythm, while he gripped on his air drum sticks as he played the beat and heartily hummed the majestic guitar lead for Pearl Jam's Alive. This was his stage, he owned it, and it was the best bathroom concert ever. At least that's what he thought.
Unfortunately, all things must come to an end. He left the shower, grabbed the towel and dried up his shaggy hair and his soaking wet [hot] body with it. He walked into the bedroom, whistling like a bird chirpily singing in the morning, and then froze into place when he caught a glimpse of buttocks. One sweet pair of buttocks. The whistling stopped and his brain had instantly forgotten that he too was naked as a baby. He shook his head just in case it could bring him back to life and moved his eyes a little more up until he was looking straight into a pair of hazel green eyes.
"Oh it's just you," Rem mumbled, sounding too casual for the occasion, before turning away again. She returned to her work that was scavenging in his closet. "Is this your room? Nice. You get your own bathroom. I had to walk around the hallways like this."
"I-I… um, I…" Stan opened his mouth several times, but only ended up producing nonsense stutters. "I-I mean, you… I…"
"Very articulate, huh?"
He shut his stupid mouth and took a deep breath. He could do this. It's just the enchantingly-beautiful-blonde-girl-with-rainbow-hair-and-hypnotizing-eyes total badass. Yeah, no sweat. No sweat at all.
"I-I wasn't staring," he blurted out. God.
"I wasn't staring," mimicked the other. "Even gay men do. So yeah, it's alright. It's not like I'm hiding the visual knowledge that I'm super naked here anyway."
"What… W-What are you doing… here?"
As if on cue, she pulled out a red hoodie from his closet and wore it, covering most of her body. The beauty of her long legs was still in display though. She turned around to face him and heaved out a sigh. "I'm gonna have to borrow this. Sorry I had to invade your closet. The hospital gown is a cheap piece of crap, and all my clothes are still in the laundry. Fat Amy's make me look like fucking Jabba the Hutt."
"Y-You like Star Wars?" he asked in a mixture of disbelief and amazement.
"Who doesn't?"
She couldn't have been more perfect than this. Stan was pretty sure he was drifting off to Wonderland when he noticed her eyes headed south and then her lips grew into a smirk. That's when he grasped his nakedness. Fuck. Just fuck.
"I-I'm sorry," Stan murmured, his face was glowing bright red in embarrassment as he frantically wrapped the towel around himself.
Rem giggled and shook her head. "I'm not even sorry, buddy."
"Uh… o-okay…"
"I should go back to the infirmary, yeah? Before they find out that I'm not there." She gave him a playful wink as she turned towards the exit. "I fucking love Pearl Jam, by the way."
Stan nodded despite his mind was already floating around someplace else. He watched his surprise visitor walk away – well, limp away would be a more appropriate term. All of a sudden, he was back to reality. He could then see the bruises painted everywhere on her exposed skin and the cuts peeping through the hoodie.
"Wait," he heard himself say. Good thing, she stopped and faced him once more or he would have looked like an idiot. Oh there's that swelling cheek and the broken lips were still sore and red from bleeding. "I'm sorry my sister beat you up."
The crazy blonde chuckled loudly. Who cared if it hurt her bones? "You too? Wait, am I the only one here who saw it coming? I mean, clearly, she hates me. Since day one. But whether she likes it or not, I'm gonna have to stick around. Nothing personal, just doing my job."
"She thinks you betrayed us."
"Nobody has to trust me."
"You didn't hit her back," he stated an observation. "It was like you were simply letting her beat you up when you could have actually stopped her. I don't know. For some people, it would make you seem… guilty."
"Or a very good friend," she rolled her eyes. Why was she always the poor suspect? "She needed that. Her mom almost died and a bunch of innocent people were Texas Chainsaw Massacre-d in her name. What did you want me to do?"
"Well, what's in it for you?"
She put her hands on her hips and looked back at him questioningly.
"All of us, we all have a reason to be here. I mean, it may not be common, but each of us has at least one. It defines your motives. Motives make you transparent. And transparency gains you trust. So what is it? What's your reason? What did Benji offer you that you would go through hell and back for my sister who's willing enough to slit your throat?"
Rem huffed and smirked. There was only one statement she had prepared to answer to that question. "I'm Beca's cheat code."
Her smirk grew into a smug as she prepared to resume her exit. That's just it.
"Just so you know," Stan needed to tell it to her. "I trust you... Rem."
"I know." She grabbed the door knob, chuckling. She opened the door, but turned around briefly for one last thing. "Oh and you're only allowed to flirt with me aside from Aubrey. Hurt her, and you'll have me and Chloe chasing you down with a crossbow and a hatchet. Fact."
The young Mitchell couldn't help but laugh at the diplomatic death threat. The door shut closed, and he was all alone. See? No sweat at all.
"Hey, mate!" Fat Amy was obviously sarcastic and evidently furious when a still sleepy Jesse Swanson entered the Communication Center rubbing his eyes awake. "Nice of you to join me. Where the fuck have you been, eh? You've been MIA since midnight, and guess what? I haven't eaten anything! I think I've lost a hundred pounds!"
"What?" he could barely steady himself or process his partner's yelling. "W-What happened?"
"What do you mean 'what happened?' Everything was in chaos last night. I had to stay awake the whole time and do the monitoring all by myself."
"Chaos?" he questioned, baffled and a little surprised.
The Australian blonde gasped loudly at her thoughts. "How dare you! You've been drinking? Don't even try to lie about it. You're obviously hammered, shitface!"
"Headache," he mumbled as he plopped on a seat, pressing on his temples with both hands.
"See?"
"Fat Amy?" he croaked, breathing heavily in anxiousness.
"What?" she hissed back. She was really mad at him. "What? What, Swanson?"
"Something's not right," he said in all honesty. "I… I feel weird. M-My head. It's like… somebody hit me on the head. I don't know."
"What the hell are you talking about, mate?"
Jesse inhaled and exhaled sharply, buried his face into his hands, and sought for solitude. What the fuck was happening? Everything seemed like a blur. All he could think about was him collapsing on the ground. And then it hit him. He bolted his chair towards the nearest working station and hurriedly typed in some codes. The system activity log appeared on screen and there it was. codenamephoenix Downloaded 10 hours ago.
"Oh my god," he breathed out.
The door swung open much to the pair's shock who immediately held up their hands, trembling in fright. A team led by Thud himself dashed in, all guns pointed right towards the brunet.
"Game over, Jesse."
Disclaimer: I don't own Pitch Perfect.