A/N: Felt inspired, so updated quicker than I usually would. Just a heads up, I used a fair bit of artistic license in this chapter, so please suspend your disbelief :)

Also, sorry it's so short, but I'm trying to pace this fic out properly so it isn't too short :P

Please please please review and let me know what you think of this fic :)

I do not own Pitch Perfect or any of its characters

They had hoped that Donald's death had been a one off.

They were wrong.

Over the next few days, the ex-prisoners they had rescued from the abandoned transport ship began dying, one by one. All in the same way.

Beca and Aubrey now point-blank refused to leave Stacie's side, who still showed no sign of waking up.

On the night of the fifth death, the two girls each held one of Stacie's hands, squeezing them tightly, as the sound of a flat line rang out through the medical bay.

"Fuck," they heard Gail whisper. Her voice was tired and strained. "Chloe..."

Beca looked up to see a flash of red hair storm past and out of the room. She went to stand before hesitating, looking back down at her sister.

"Go," Aubrey said. She looked and sounded as tired as Beca felt. They had been doing shifts, making sure there was always one of them with Stacie, but over the past few days, neither girl felt like they could leave, so they only left to use the bathroom and get more coffee. "She needs you more than Stacie does right now."

"I'll be back," Beca said, her voice cracking from the lack of use. "If anything happens..."

"She'll be fine," Aubrey said, but without conviction. She didn't know if Stacie would be fine. In fact, she knew that statistically, Stacie was very unlikely to be fine.

Beca left the medical bay and headed straight for the room she and Chloe had spent most of their time before this had all happened.

She found her girlfriend tucked into the corner of one of the sofas, tears making their way down her cheeks.

Beca didn't say anything, just gathered her up in her arms.

"Beca, I can't watch another person die," she said between sobs. "I can't do it anymore."

"I know," Beca said softly, running her hand up and down Chloe's back. "Why don't you ask Gail for some time off? I mean, working in the medical bay isn't even your job."

"She's understaffed," Chloe said, sniffing. "She needs all the help in there she can get."

"This whole situation... It's... It's not good," Beca said, struggling to find the words.

"Beca, why is it that Stacie is the only one with people visiting her? Why are these people dying alone?" Chloe asked.

Beca sighed slightly before squeezing Chloe closer to her. "They aren't alone," she said softly. "They have you." She knew that it was no substitute. These people should have had their friends and family, but who knew how long they'd been exiled. Who knew what they'd done do to get those crosses on their wrists.

"I should get back," Chloe said, checking her watch.

"Not yet," Beca said, placing a small kiss on the side of her head. "Give yourself a minute."

When they returned half an hour later, there was another empty bed to add to the list.

Along with Stacie, there was now only two of them left.

"Gail," Denise said, rushing over to her later that night. "The blood results have come back. I don't recognise anything that's come up on the report."

"What do you mean?" Gail asked, taking the paper from her hand.

"I mean, their blood is full of something I've never seen before," Denise said.

"What the fuck is that?" Gail said, frowning at the page.

"I asked Benji at the lab, and he said that the chemical structure is similar to something called scopolamine," Denise said.

"Which is?"

"A drug that, according to Benji, they used to use to treat motion sickness, but in high doses basically turns the user into an easily manipulated zombie. Whoever did this, it looks like they were interested in mind control."

Gail sighed. "Shit," she said. "Does anything in their blood suggest what killed them?"

"It could be any of the shit they've been injected with, we haven't been able to identify most of it," Denise said.

As Gail ran a hand through her hair, she heard the sound of the escalated beeping that had begun haunting her dreams.

"No, no, no!" She yelled, running over to one of only two occupied beds in the room.

Beca and Aubrey watched from Stacie's side, totally unable to help, as the frantic beeping changed to a single note, filling the room.

"Fucking hell," Gail said, exhausted. She looked at Beca and Aubrey, and their terrified expressions.

"Is it going to hurt her when it happens?" Beca asked, her voice catching.

"It might not happen-"

"Gail," Aubrey said, struggling not to cry. "Please."

"She probably won't feel a thing," Gail said.

Beca nodded, tears in her eyes. She felt Chloe wrap her arms around her shoulders and hold her like Beca had done to her a few hours earlier.

"It's okay," Chloe said softly.

Aubrey looked across at the pair, and felt a pang in her chest.

She needed to be comforted too. To be held. But the only person who could do it, was lying unconscious in the bed beside her.

"Stacie," she said, her voice breaking. "Stacie, please wake up. I need you."

Beca disentangled herself from Chloe and moved around the bed to hug Aubrey.

"I can't lose her again, Beca," Aubrey said, tears soaking into Beca's shoulder.

"I know, 'Bree," Beca said. "I can't either."

Stacie didn't move. She remained unaware of what was going on around her.

Half an hour earlier.

She stood in the doorway of the medical bay, their eyes scanning the room.

Dr. Abernathy-Mcadden and the other medic Denise, were standing close, examining a piece of paper.

The redhead, was she called Chloe?, was in the room with one of the prisoners and the other two soldiers who had flat out refused to move.

The only other surviving prisoner was in a bed at the other end of the room, and was currently unattended.

Good.

She made her way over to the man in the bed, and checked over her shoulder to make sure she were still unobserved. She was.

She reached into her pocket and withdrew a syringe full of air.

She located a vein quickly, and injected the air into the bloodstream before making a hasty retreat.

As she exited the medical bay, she heard the sound of the prisoner going into cardiac arrest, and she smiled.

One more down, one to go.