A/N: I was going to post this on New Years Eve, but I think I need a break from sharing my story. I am up in the air now over whether I want a TT or Chaubrey ending for a lot of various reasons - and I am a little bit extremely overwhelmed with guilt. After the last few chapters, I have really started feeling some type of way regarding Aubrey, her life, what I want to explore next, and what I want the future to hold for her after all this. And Idk. Idk. I started this story thinking no one would read it, and I'd quit it after a few chapters - and then it turned into this huge outline that I have followed diligently, never even thinking about straying from until now. I never expected this to become so massive or so close to my heart. I have put a lot into Arrhythmia for nearly seven years - time, effort, emotion, and while my intention wasn't to string people along for over 100+ chapters only to change something so vital to the story out of nowhere, my gut is telling me to do it. And to know I've worked so hard and put so much of myself into something that was ultimately a huge disappointment and let down is a lot to take in. I have let you all in on a lot of personal experiences and feelings I've had through this story, and I have felt a lot of support that I now risk losing. In the end, for me at least, this story isn't about romance or sex or a ship - it's a story that I wrote about Aubrey. And I want to do her right, because it's also a story about my experiences, and I want to do me right for once. But then there is you guys, who I also want to do right.
So, I need a break to decide why exactly I am telling this story, and who I am writing it for, and whether or not I actually want to keep sharing it if to people the story is only worth reading if it's about TT rather than about Aubrey.
Arrhythmia
A distant motorcade and suddenly there's joy;
The snow and ticker tape blurs all my senses numb.
It's like the finish line where everything just ends.
The crack of radio seems close enough to touch...
- Snow Patrol
What just happened?
Aubrey isn't sure if she thinks the words or says them out loud.
Is it over?
"He just…" Beca looks at the bridge. "Luke just…why?"
Aubrey is sick of wondering the ins and outs of 'why', never quite reaching the answer. "I'm sorry, Beca." She can imagine they might have been close if she still worked for him after college.
"Do you think Jesse and Benji…?"
Aubrey can't imagine they're still alive – but Nikki just threw her for a loop, so for all she knows they're living in a zombie apocalypse. If that's the case, well, at least they're on an island where the rest of the world can't get to them, right? She breathes a hollow laugh.
"What is funny right now?" Beca asks.
Nothing. Nothing is funny right now. Aubrey stares at the bridge. Maybe he felt bad for killing all these people – or, maybe, he was working for the Grim Reaper and hadn't quite reached his death quota, so he was forced to sacrifice himself for the sake of the job. She smiles dryly. Or maybe…
"Aubrey, stop." Beca steps away from her. "This isn't funny."
Aubrey ducks her head, resting her forehead against Chloe's head; she's already covered in her blood anyway.
"Beca, just leave her alone," Chloe cuts in.
"We're watching everyone we love die," Beca states, "And she's laughing."
No. Aubrey tries to wipe the solemn, humorless smile off her face. She wishes she could be like Luke. That she could just give up like that. What a relief it would be to be able to just hurl herself off the side of this cliff right now, and not have to face this anymore – and how ironic it would be to find solace in more death. Nothing in life will ever be the same after this – if they get out of this, if it is indeed over.
Chloe releases a drawn out sigh and pinches the bridge of her nose.
Aubrey eases her back. "Chloe, you have to keep this on your head," she says and directs her hand holding the shirt back up to her injury. It doesn't seem to be bleeding as badly anymore. The blood is drying on the side of her face.
Chloe nods, flinching as the shirt comes into contact with her.
There is nothing here for them; they need to keep heading toward the town.
xxxxx
"I can never believe how many people are here," Chloe said.
"I don't know how they do it." Aubrey leaned against the patio banister, staring at the thousands of people crowding the streets. No thank you. Aubrey was perfectly content to find somewhere selling VIP tickets for their bar or restaurant patio to watch the ball drop every New Year.
"Can you please get away from there before you fall to your death?" Chloe begged.
"We're two stories up," Aubrey said, "The worst that would happen is I would break a bone or get a concussion."
"What if that bone was your neck? Or your back?" Chloe asked.
"Chloe, there are so many people here, I would probably fall on someone and break their neck or back," Aubrey replied. She walked back over to their table anyway and sat down in her chair.
"I like this place," Chloe said and sipped on her drink, "I think this is the best place we've chosen so far."
Aubrey nodded in agreement. Out of the different places they had been for New Years over the past four years, this one was the most comfortable. The view was decent. It wasn't crowded. There was a bathroom. And, rather than only cold drinks, they spiked their hot chocolate and coffee.
"I think this should be our permanent New Years spot."
Aubrey could live with that. She stood up again and dragged her chair around the table, closer to Chloe's. Spiked coffee or no spiked coffee, she was cold, and, fortunately for her, these chairs did not have armrests. She shivered and pressed into her, resting her head against Chloe's shoulder.
Chloe hummed and wrapped an arm around her, rubbing up and down Aubrey's arm in an attempt to warm her up. It helped that the restaurant had tiny heaters placed sporadically around, and Chloe had chosen to sit directly next to one of them. "Do you want to try this?" She offered Aubrey her drink.
Aubrey shook her head. She had her own drink – and, also, trying it would mean she had to lift her head.
"Do you want to kiss at midnight?" Chloe asked suggestively, "That might warm you up."
Aubrey didn't answer her. "Can you believe we live here?"
"I don't think it'll ever really sink in," Chloe answered. She placed her drink down and rested her head against Aubrey's. "I used to watch this on TV every year; I never thought I'd actually ever be in Manhattan for New Year's. It's crazy."
"What's crazy is down there," Aubrey said as there was a cheer from the crowd – probably caused by someone shouting for no reason.
"Well, only one more hour." Chloe took another sip of her drink, then wrapped Aubrey in a closer hug with both of her arms. "And then we'll be in a whole new year. Isn't it weird that time is mostly just a social construct? It's not even actually real."
Aubrey cringed. While Chloe might have been comfortable contemplating time and space in such a way, Aubrey was not. "Please, never remind me of that again."
Chloe laughed. "Sorry."
Time was real. Aubrey knew it. Because sitting there, like they were, so close, yet so far, she missed the years when Chloe was hers.
xxxxx
Aubrey stops and looks around. They should have passed the tree by now. They have to be going the right way. The sun rises in the East, so in order to get back the way they came they have to go West. Everything around them looks exactly the same.
"Please, tell me you know where we are right now," Beca says.
"Um…" Maybe they passed the tree without noticing it, and now they've gone too far.
"We're in the woods, Beca," Chloe tries to cut some of the tension.
"We should…keep going this way," Aubrey decides.
"We've been going this way for too long, Aubrey," Beca points out, "We didn't walk the same way the entire time we were out here."
"Even if we don't know where we are," Aubrey says slowly, not ready to admit she might be lost, "This island is not that big. Eventually, we'll find the edge, and we can walk around it until we find the docks – and, from there, we go into town." Chloe slouches into Aubrey, and Aubrey nearly falls over. That's if both of them can make it that far. She stares at Beca – Beca, who doesn't have a single scratch on her, while she and Chloe can barely stand up. "But I'm sure you have a better idea – since you keep flip-flopping on whether or not you agree with me."
"You're doing it again," Beca says, "You get defensive whenever you even think anyone might disagree with you."
"Well," Aubrey says and shrugs, "Then stop disagreeing."
"Oh my god." Beca looks up at the sky and shakes her head. "You know we need to go another direction."
"We don't know which way! You're being illogical thinking we should go a random direction, when I just explained why we should keep walking in a straight line. You're just trying to tear me down."
"Then get off the top," Beca replies, "And take somebody else into consideration for once. The only person you ever think about is you."
"That's not true," Chloe says.
Aubrey makes sure Chloe is standing on her own before closing some of the distance between herself and Beca. "Do you know what I have done this week?" she asks. "I watched a dead kid hang from the ceiling, so I could drive his sister, who I didn't even know, home. And, then, I shot a deer in the head, so it wouldn't have to feel any more pain. And, after that? I helped Cynthia-Rose pull a dead guy across the room, not knowing if I was going to be shot at or not, so we could get help for everyone else – and after she was shot, I sat there giving her CPR, feeling her blood in between all of my fingers, as she died in front of me. And, now, I have to see all of that in my head, and you don't even know what that's like, for the rest of my life – if I even live that long."
"We have all had to see stuff, Aubrey. I saw my dad dead."
"You saw people dead," Aubrey agrees, "And that is awful, and I'm sorry. But I have dragged myself hurt, wet, cold, and throwing my guts up across this island for everyone, for Chloe, and for you – when I could have chosen to try to just save myself. So, forgive me, if all I want is to go home, and in order to do that, we have to keep going West!" She points her entire hand in that direction then drops it back down as she backs up to Chloe and wraps her arms around her again. "Every part of my body hurts beyond what you can comprehend, and I would like to go home with Chloe, who I should point out also needs medical attention now, and never leave my apartment again."
xxxxx
New York City was beautiful all the time – even in March when the snow turned to disgusting brown slush that Aubrey absolutely fucking hated, it still struck her as gorgeous. But the best times? Holidays. The Macy's Day Parade. The window displays at Christmas. And the moment the ball dropped on New Years – followed by the next few moments afterward.
"Ten." The countdown started. "Nine. Eight. Seven. Six." Aubrey sat up straight, watching as Manhattan, usually such a hustle and bustle of people moving in all different directions, came together in unison. "Five. Four. Three. Two. One."
The crowd erupted into one giant cheer.
The moment never quite felt real.
All around her, people kissed their loved ones, hugged strangers they had met in the crowd, and thought of all the good things to come during the next twelve months. So many things could change in a year.
"Got one!" Chloe snatched a piece of ticker tape that the wind blew in out of the air. "The first of the year. It better be good." She placed it in their bag.
Aubrey snapped back to reality and grabbed one that landed on the table. Sometimes, she wondered how the city cleaned it all up afterward – but that was overwhelming, because there was so much of it, and she didn't want to think about each piece being thrown in the trash. She caught more as they drifted in.
That was another reason she was content not to stand in the crowd. There was an overwhelming amount of ticker tape raining over Times Square – and she and Chloe would feel guilty seeing all they had to leave behind.
xxxxx
Chloe is quiet. She doesn't say anything as they walk, only brief 'yeahs' and 'mhm's every time Aubrey asks her if she's okay. She keeps massaging her eyes and the bridge of her nose with her thumb and fingers, occasionally veering off to the side when she's not looking forward, crashing into Aubrey.
"I'm sorry I can't carry you on my back," Aubrey tells her eventually. If she tried, neither of them would be getting back up.
"Bree, it's fine," Chloe assures her and rubs Aubrey's back, "I'm fine. It just hurts."
"Do you feel dizzy?" Aubrey asks. Is that why you keep running me over, walking like you're drunk?
"Aubrey, I'm okay." Chloe squeezes her good arm. "I am okay."
That doesn't answer Aubrey's question.
xxxxx
Aubrey got down the 'Well Wishes Jar' from the mantel – a Swarovski crystal ball that opened up into a jewelry box. She placed it in the middle of the coffee table, then sat down on the floor with her back against the couch as she waited for Chloe to bring dinner. Or was it breakfast? She was never sure what to call a meal at three in the morning – besides absolutely disgusting, because Chloe was insistent that one could only eat a mixture of pork, hot dogs, and sauerkraut that had been left in a crockpot for an entire day on New Years.
It was because, growing up, Chloe's mom had told her that if she didn't eat it, she would have a terrible year.
To Aubrey, that sounded like a thinly veiled threat.
Chloe walked into the room and placed a bowl and fork in front of Aubrey, then sat down beside her with her own. She grabbed the bag of ticker tape from the table and put it between them. "I caught the first one, so I go first this year."
Aubrey nodded and took a bite of her food. Okay, it was never that bad – but she passed it off to just being starving.
Chloe shook the bag then pulled out the first piece of paper – turning it over to read the New Year's Resolution that had been printed on the back of it. She groaned. "Already the first one. Go on a diet." She tore it in half and dropped the pieces onto the table.
Aubrey reached in and pulled out the next one. "Clean out the junk shed. He won't." She tore it in half and tossed it on the table with the other one.
"Eat less calories." Chloe rolled her eyes, and onto the table it went.
"I got one," Aubrey said, reading the next one to herself first, "Not kill anyone at work, or myself at work. More power to you." She grabbed their lighter and lit the end, then dropped it into the jar.
"Get into grad school. Well wishes to you." Chloe took the lighter and lit it and placed it in the jar.
"Organize my underwear drawer," Aubrey read the next one. She tore it in half.
"Come out to my parents." Chloe lit it on fire. "Good luck to you."
"Go on a diet." Aubrey ripped it in half.
"Stop wanting to kill myself." Chloe lit it. "Well wishes, friend."
"Tell people I love them more often." Aubrey lit it. "I hope they tell you back."
"Believe I have value." Chloe lit it. "You do."
"Stop putting glitter on the neighbors' cat." Aubrey ripped it and looked at Chloe. "It concerns me that there are people out there similar to you."
"We need to send well wishes to the cat." Chloe picked up both pieces and lit them. "I hope the glitter is non-toxic and biodegradable."
Aubrey rolled her eyes and went back to eating.
"Eat less carbs." Chloe ripped it.
"Quit smoking." Aubrey ripped it. It wasn't that she and Chloe didn't wish them well – but everyone knew no one was actually out there completing these generic resolutions they set for themselves every single year as if this would finally be the one. A better resolution for these people would be to 'develop self-control'.
Chloe stretched her legs and sunk back against the couch. "Have an adventure." She lit it. "You just have to get out there."
Aubrey sighed and stared at the next one for a few seconds. "Live long enough to see my daughter be born." She lit it. "She's going to be the most beautiful thing you've ever seen." They both watched it until it had burned out.
"That was a hard one," Chloe finally spoke.
Aubrey nodded.
"Write a novel." Chloe ripped it.
"Show my boss who's boss. I hate to tell you this…" Aubrey ripped it.
"Get a job I can feed my family with." Chloe burned it, "Well wishes."
"Prove to my disabled son that he's worthy." Aubrey burned it. "Well wishes to you both."
They went back and forth until every piece had been either burned or ripped – then tossed the ripped pieces back into the bag to throw out later. The tradition had started when Aubrey was reading the confetti during their first year in New York, and some of the pieces had been too hard to throw back onto the street – so Chloe suggested they burn them and send them off with 'Well Wishes'. It stuck. And, suddenly, it was her first real family tradition.
Once they were finished, they each took a scrap of blank paper and wrote a resolution for one another. Aubrey looked at Chloe for awhile, trying to think, even though she had had an entire year to come up with one. She tapped her pen against the coffee table as Chloe finished writing hers for Aubrey. She clicked the pen then lowered it to the table. 'To find whatever you're looking for.'
They folded their papers together then Aubrey lit them on fire and dropped them inside. She closed the lid.
"Well wishes, Aubrey." Chloe scooted over and snuggled in, yawning.
Aubrey nodded. "Well wishes."
xxxxx
Then get off the top, and take somebody else into consideration for once. The only person you ever think about is you. Maybe her father was right; maybe he should have named her Aubrey 'Has To Be First' Posen.
Aubrey has to stop. She leans sideways against a tree, and takes a few breaths.
Chloe slouches into her.
Aubrey waits for her to say something – doesn't quite know what to do with her silence, but Chloe just looks downward at the ground.
"Why are we stopping?" Beca asks.
Because as much as Aubrey's mind is telling her she has more than enough will power to keep going, her body is telling to collapse against this tree and let it end. "I'm tired." Her legs don't want to walk anymore.
"We need to get Chloe back to the town," Beca reminds her.
That's enough to get her going again. Aubrey stands up straight – but Chloe doesn't budge, even as Aubrey tries to step forward. "Chloe, we have to keep going."
Chloe finally nods and walks forward with her, leaning most of her weight into Aubrey – making it very hard to remain upright.
"Chloe…"
Chloe pinches the bridge of her nose. "I just need to sit down when we get there."
She has a concussion – Aubrey knows she does. How could she not?
"Is that a leaf blower?" Beca asks, "Who is blowing leaves in the woods?"
Aubrey looks away from Chloe and at the leaf blower propped against the tree. Overwhelming, out of proportion excitement fills her chest almost immediately. She has never been so happy to see a leaf blower. "I think we're near the path to the cliffs." That means they're closer to the town than they thought. "There were leaves on the path coming back that weren't there when I walking to the cliffs. If someone had a leaf blower..."
"The path was clear there and back," Beca says.
"For you."
"So, you're saying someone covered the path with leaves when you were coming back from the cliffs, and then uncovered it again for me?"
"Yes." That is exactly what Aubrey is saying. "And why else would this be here?" Drops of water hit the top of Aubrey's head, and she looks up, unsure if it's from the trees or if it's going to start raining again. "Keep going forward."
It doesn't take long before the woods opens up to a path – a very familiar looking path. This, Aubrey recognizes right away.
"Which way?" Beca asks, stepping out into the middle of it.
"Right." Aubrey has no doubts.
"Bree, I have to stop." Chloe pulls away from her a little, keeping herself steady with a hand on Aubrey's side.
"We're almost there," Aubrey assures her, "I know where we are. It should only be a few minutes until we find the road. Okay?" She rubs her hand up and down the length of Chloe's back. "We'll be there before we know it."
Chloe presses the heels of her hands against her eyes, teetering once she's no longer using Aubrey for support. She rubs her eyes then wraps her arms around herself, taking forced steps as Aubrey eases her along, with her eyes still closed.
"I used to play this game," Aubrey says, continuing to push her forward, "It didn't really have a name. But, sometimes, when I was scared, I would just pay attention to the seconds. I would tell myself, 'You made it through one second, you just have to make it through the next. And the next. And the next. There went another second. Get through the next one.' And, eventually, all the awful seconds were in the past. You just have to make it through a few more seconds. You could even make it steps instead of seconds. Just a few more steps."
Beca breathes a laugh.
Aubrey looks up, ready to defend herself.
"I thought I was the only one that played that shitty game," Beca says, "Just one more song, Beca. You made it through that song."
"Did you ever play that game?" Aubrey asks, trying to get her talking.
Chloe shakes her head – once.
Right. Aubrey can't imagine she would have. "Just a few more steps."
Chloe nods.
"After we get married, if we decide to have a kid," Aubrey goes a different route, "Do you hope we have a boy or girl?"
"Both," Chloe answers, "And a dog."
Great, now that they have a cat, Chloe is going to push for a dog, because of course she is. And Aubrey is never going to be able to say no to her again. "Let's just focus on the kids. We already have a cat. Plus, what if our kids are allergic?"
"We'll have to get rid of them," Chloe mumbles.
"You'd get rid of the cat?" Aubrey answers. She would have thought Chloe had a long list of alternatives from allergy medicine to God knows what else.
"I mean the kids," Chloe replies.
Aubrey has nothing to say to that.
Chloe exhales a tearful laugh then sniffles. "You have to go first."
"Why me?" There are a lot of things that Aubrey needs to be first for – but getting pregnant is not necessarily one of them.
"I can't imagine you not having the oldest," Chloe answers, coming around a little more.
That…is a good point. Obviously, it's possible for Chloe to go first and Aubrey second, but it doesn't sit right with Aubrey when she really thinks about it. She can't imagine her kid being the baby of the family. It just seems weird. "Fine," Aubrey agrees reluctantly. She can see the road in the distance. They're almost there. Just a few more seconds, just a few more steps. She grabs Chloe as she stumbles sideways into her again. "We're almost there. Talk to me more. Tell me about our kids, our wedding." Anything.
"They're going to be beautiful," Chloe tells her. She pats Aubrey's side, like she doesn't already have her full attention. "I really need to stop."
"Chloe, we're almost on the road. Like, ten steps maximum."
"Aubrey. I need to stop." Chloe sounds suddenly panicked. "Right now."
Aubrey freezes.
Chloe breaks away from her, stumbling to the side, to the tree line.
Aubrey doesn't know where she's going. "Chloe." She goes after her, catching up quickly, stopping as Chloe grabs the first tree she comes to for support. Aubrey steadies her as she leans forward and immediately throws up.
She has a concussion, Aubrey tries to reassure herself, it's normal.
They're almost to the town.
Aubrey just needs to get them a few more steps - and then they can hide, and rest, and they'll all be fine.
