Andiclauds: It depends on if you're counting how long Aubrey was out of it or not. Either way, it's been a few days.
Mwallace: I already have the scene where Aubrey finds out pretty well planned out.
Bechloe-4evs: Thank you.
96itadakimasu96: Pretty sure she's just a sore loser in general, lol. Ken and his wife Ken were great. My dad had just left my mom for a Drag Queen, so Ken's wife Ken was always dressed in drag. And Ken's ex-wife lived in the downstairs apartment, and was constantly like "Wtf, I know he's a beautiful woman, but we have kids, Ken."
Pixie1913: It's always good to have hope.
SunDanceQT: People keep mentioning Aubrey Plaza to me lately, and, ngl, I don't know who that is.
G: I don't think inadequate is the right word, since she's always trying to build Aubrey up, making it harder to feel that way. I think it's more of a 'I want to be like you, but I don't really understand why' type of feeling.
FromTumblr: Thank you! Lots of Mitchsen in this chapter too.
Dysrhythmia
Sometimes, you're a stranger in my bed;
Don't know if you love me or you want me dead.
Push me away, push me away,
Then beg me to stay, beg me to stay.
Call me in the morning to apologize;
Every little lie gives me butterflies.
Something in the way you're looking through my eyes,
Don't know if I'm gonna make it out alive.
Fight so dirty, but your love's so sweet;
Talk so pretty, but your heart got teeth.
- 5 Seconds of Summer
"You're acting weird," Beca says as Aubrey lets her help her undress.
"How would you like me to act, Beca?"
"I don't know," Beca answers, and unclasps her bra, "Punch me or something for daring to touch your body."
Aubrey just sighs and trades her socks for flip-flops.
"You're mad at me for tic-tac-toe and the dinosaurs," Beca guesses.
Aubrey shakes her head. She's feeling run down, and she wishes Beca was too. She wishes Beca would let go of this inability to feel and be as out-of-sorts and despondent as she is, so she wouldn't feel so forlorn. They saw people die. They watched people they knew and loved die right in front of them, and they almost died too. How is it possible to be so good at pretending not to feel anything about that?
She stands still as Beca undresses then steps forward to be the one to choose the shower temperature this time – leaving her clothes in a heap behind her. Aubrey tells herself to leave them, she tries to leave them – unfolded and a mess. Every single muscle in her body tightens, refusing to let her move forward. Is it always this bad? Or is she just more aware – more aware it goes beyond wanting things to look clean and orderly, more aware that she can't stop? She turns around and folds everything up – hating herself every single second of it.
How can anyone help her stop this? She closes her eyes to it.
"Aubs," Beca calls her.
Aubrey lifts her head and turns to join her underneath the water. It's too cold. It's not cold, but it's cold to Aubrey who would rather feel hot water scalding her skin more than anything else right now. She wraps her arm around herself, and scoots under it when Beca moves, letting it cascade down over her entire body. Don't think about being in the rain. Don't think.
"Do you need help?" Beca says.
Help shutting off her brain? Is the entire day just dedicated to how Aubrey's mind doesn't work like it's supposed to? She steps back and opens her eyes to see Beca lathering herself with body wash, and she realizes that Beca means help washing her body. "No." Aubrey turns to her shower caddy and does it as well as she can herself.
"Are you okay?"
Aubrey stops scrubbing soap all over herself with the wash cloth, and watches the soapy water swirl around the shower drain as she rinses herself off. "No." She wrings the water out of the rag, then drapes it over the caddy's handle to dry. It doesn't matter how clean Aubrey needs to feel; she doesn't have it in her to try to wash her hair, not even with Beca's help.
Beca must not be expecting that answer, and it's clear she doesn't know how to respond. What is there to say anyway? They both know that no one is going to be okay until Chloe is okay – especially not Aubrey. She rinses herself off as well, then tosses her rag into the caddy, not saying anything as Aubrey fixes it.
"Something is wrong with me." Aubrey turns back around. She isn't sure what she's looking for in saying it out loud. It just makes her feel worse.
"I don't think that's the case…" Beca says awkwardly – and Aubrey can't tell if she thinks she's telling the truth or if she just doesn't want to see Aubrey cry. "Dude, what happened to you was-"
"What happened to us, Beca," Aubrey corrects her, "What happened to us."
"I told you, it's like I wasn't even-"
"But you were there," Aubrey cuts her off, "And I don't believe you. I don't believe that you can pretend it never happened."
"Aubrey, stop."
"No. Your fiancé killed our friends and your dad, and he tried to kill Chloe and me. Chloe is unconscious and you won't even go see her; you're acting like she doesn't even exist, when you have to feel something about that. You don't have a fiancé, or friends, or a family left; you can't just not feel anything."
"I…"
"Then go tell Chloe you feel nothing."
Beca looks like she's being attacked – and her stress response is to freeze. She opens her mouth to speak again, but nothing comes out, and she stares at Aubrey like she doesn't quite know what Aubrey wants from her. But she does. Aubrey knows she does. And it's not like Aubrey feels better as the tears start welling up in Beca's eyes, but at least she knows that Beca isn't a sociopath too – that she is, in fact, capable of feeling, that she just doesn't want to.
The problem now is – Aubrey doesn't quite know what to do with her.
She broke through a wall, and all that's on the other side of it is danger.
Aubrey doesn't know how to comfort Beca. She never had to learn how to comfort Chloe, who would just fall into her arms; she just had to get comfortable doing so. Now here is this person that she barely knows, looking anywhere but at her, as her chin starts to tremble. And Aubrey just stands there – awkward and naked, watching her try to pull herself back together. Her heart starts beating a mile a minute in panic, and nothing she can think to say sounds like it's coming to come out right. Now she knows why it's important to think, because she's not trying to hurt her right now; she just doesn't want to be so fucking alone, looking like she's going crazy over something that shouldn't be affecting her.
…what a selfish thing to want.
Her anger starts to cool down.
"I'm sorry."
"I mean, you're right," Beca chokes out.
She is? Of course, she is; she's Aubrey.
"I just – I can't – I can't-" Beca shakes her hands and struggles for air.
It's hard enough to breathe with all the steam filling the room. Aubrey quickly turns off the water and hops out of the shower to turn on the fan. She can barely breathe herself.
Beca is still trying to tell her something, and Aubrey steps back into the shower and grabs her hand.
Beca doesn't pull away. She covers her face with her other hand, and keeps trying to suck in air, too much, too fast, through her mouth.
"It helps if you breathe with intention," Aubrey tells her from experience, "You want to try to breathe in through your nose as deep as you can into your diaphragm, like when you're singing, and then breathe out through your mouth as slowly as you can." She demonstrates for her – also trying to keep herself grounded as well. "It takes several tries before it starts to work." She breathes again. "In through your nose and out through your mouth." She keeps patiently breathing herself, knowing it's so much easier said by the person not panicking than done by the one who is.
Beca tries to hold her breath – which just results in mad attempts to gulp down more air for a few minutes before it sinks in what Aubrey is telling her to do.
"In." Aubrey breathes. "And out."
"I can't think about it, Aubrey," Beca tells her when she can speak again, squeezing her hand hard, "I can't think about it."
"Then you're going to explode." Aubrey knows that from experience too.
Beca rapidly shakes her head.
"You are," Aubrey disagrees, "You're going to put it away, and then it's all going to hit you at once."
"Dude, then let it hit me later!" Beca yanks her hand away.
Aubrey frowns harder than she already was.
"I don't want to deal with it right now, Aubrey!"
"You think I do?" Aubrey asks, taking a step back.
"No, but this isn't about you. Not everything is about you!"
"It's going to hit you later, when all of this has already sunk in for me, and you are going to feel all alone," Aubrey tells her, "And you're going to wonder why no one else feels how you're feeling, and you are going to feel all alone. And, let me tell you something, Beca, it's not fun."
"I'm sorry that you feel all alone," Beca tells her, "But have you ever stopped to think that maybe this is difficult to process? That maybe I can't just push through this like you are?"
"I am not pushing through anything right now!" Aubrey replies, tears stinging her eyes.
"No, you're not pushing through," Beca says sarcastically, laughing through crying, "You're not dealing with the fact that this is our lives now, and accepting how that feels. Maybe not everyone is as strong as you are, Aubrey."
"You don't know what you're talking about." It's not strength pushing Aubrey though. Nothing is pushing Aubrey through. She keeps trying to stuff everything into a box, and it all just keeps overflowing everywhere. Whatever strength she once had is slipping through her fingers like sand. She's drowning in the chaos, pretending she can swim – when really, it's just Julia pulling her back up whenever she goes under. She's starting to shiver, and she turns the water back on for warmth. "I have not done anything strong. I couldn't even get us out of there."
"Are you fucking kidding me? Do you know why I chose to go with you instead of anyone else?" Beca asks, scrubbing at her eyes, "Because I thought if anyone had a chance at surviving, it was you. How do you not think you got us out of there? You took a bullet so I could call 911. Do you think running to the Maritime Museum and picking up a phone is the whole reason we survived? You got shot for us, and you still can't see that you saved us? We got in this mess, because we didn't even believe you, and you still managed to keep us alive!"
Aubrey doesn't know what to say to that.
"I need you to stop selling yourself short," Beca says, "And understand that not all of us had lives that taught us how to cope with something like this, and accept that maybe I'm a few hundred steps behind you, because my fiancé just killed a bunch of people and put my best friend in a coma, and I had no idea." It seems like she's finished, but only for a second. "Do you know what I realized while you were gone today?"
Aubrey still doesn't answer.
"Back when Jesse thought he had to compete with Luke, he always called it a Chess Match. Luke wasn't giving you clues; he was telling me exactly what was happening. And you managed to follow it like a trail. I'm sorry that you feel alone, but so do I." Beca sniffles and wipes her face. "I feel alone and stupid."
Aubrey traces the water droplets as the run along the plastic covering her cast – trying to process what Beca is telling her.
"And the fact that you're not denying I'm stupid is making me feel more stupid, so I need you to say something."
Aubrey looks up. "I don't think you're stupid – in this particular area."
Beca narrows her eyes. "You're an asshole, Aubrey. You at least know that about yourself, right?"
"I was being honest. If I told you I didn't think you were stupid at all, you'd know I was lying."
"An asshole." Beca wipes her face with both hands. "Thanks for making me cry in front of you – and for making me feel like I'm on the verge of a mental breakdown. Was it worth it for you?"
Aubrey shakes her head.
"If you feel alone, Aubrey, just say something. I can still try to make you feel less alone."
"How?" Aubrey asks, "If you don't want to talk about it…"
"I don't know."
Aubrey turns away from her to finish showering.
"We could try the kissing thing again…" Beca suggests, "I don't know about you, but I felt pretty close during that."
Aubrey's too tired to keep this conversation going. Everything she says only reinforces she sucks – and they still can't get on the same page. She told Chloe she would be proud of her for not fighting with Beca, and here she is messing it all up already. She wants to try harder, everything is just too hard. She just wants a break. "Fine. Fine, we just won't ever talk about it. I'm sorry, and I won't bring it up anymore."
"Wait, really?"
Aubrey nods.
"You're serious?"
"Do you want to kiss me or not, Beca?" Aubrey snaps, turning back around, "Because I'm waiting for you to do it."
Beca arches her brows.
Maybe it had been a joke, and she's just too worked up to register Beca's tone. The corners of Aubrey's lips twitch. "I…" What, Aubrey, you what? "Just forget it."
"Do you remember the first time we kissed, and you thought I didn't want to kiss you, because you weren't pretty?" Beca asks, closing the distance between them. Their bodies press together, and Aubrey can feel the way Beca's breaths still shake.
"Vaguely," Aubrey answers, "I was drunk."
"Good, because it would have been really awkward if I said that and you hadn't remembered it." Beca's arms wrap around her midsection, holding her in place.
"What's your point?" Aubrey asks.
"It wasn't because you're not pretty," Beca says, "You're beautiful."
"Then what was it?"
"You were also inordinately terrifying."
"Not anymore?" Aubrey asks, "Do I need to go kick your dinosaur sentries out of the way and put your tic-tac-toe paper through the shredder?"
"Shut up, Aubrey."
"Make me," Aubrey dares her.
Instead of kissing her, Beca remains where she is. "If we're going to do this, I want something too."
"So, you're using me," Aubrey says.
"Are you implying you're not using me right now?" Beca asks.
"What do you want?"
Beca shifts nervously – causing Aubrey's stomach muscles to tense as their bodies rub slippery against each other. She gives Aubrey a sheepish, still rather tearful smile.
"Just say it, Beca."
"You can consider it more what I don't want…"
"Hurry up, before I get bored."
"I don't want Jesse to be the last person I had sex with," Beca says, followed by, "I can't believe I just told you that out loud."
Aubrey blinks, unsure if she's understanding right. "So, you want to have sex…with me."
"Well, I don't think my new friend, Conrad, is going to be into me like that."
"Why not?" Aubrey asks, "Once upon a time, you told me you had a dick down there." How the hell is she supposed to say no to that; to not letting Jesse be the last person who touched her?
Beca blushes. "And you can see right now that I don't…"
Aubrey made her blush. She doesn't bother to hide the smug smirk that tries to pull on her lips. "Fine," she agrees, "But we do it my way, and you can't touch me."
Beca looks at her, confused.
"Chloe was the last…" Aubrey frowns and looks away, not bothering to finish her explanation. That, and Aubrey's body would probably collapse in on itself if she tried to put it through that right now.
"Yeah, got it, I'll keep my hands off," Beca promises, "Is it okay with, like, my arms around you?"
Aubrey nods. She looks down at Beca, taking her in. "You're going to regret what you said about the last time we had sex. You do know that, right?" She's waited for this moment.
"What did I – oh." Beca looks worried. Good. She should be.
Aubrey is not a five, unless the rating scale only goes to three. She backs Beca up against the cold tiles of the wall, trying not to think about how not that long ago, she and Chloe were in a very similar position in the hotel shower. There are no removable shower heads in this bathroom; just Aubrey and her fingers. It'd be a lot better if she had the use of two hands, but she can make Beca understand that Aubrey is good at sex with just one hand – and when she does have two, she'll let Beca know she's fucking great. And if she ever decides to use her mouth, well…Beca could only be so lucky.
"This is what I meant by inordinately terrifying," Beca says as she's pressed against the wall.
"Beca." Aubrey rests her hand on Beca's neck, feeling her swallow as she breathes her name. She's never been good at talking during sex with Chloe, but with Beca, the words just flow. "I hope you know, I'm going to set the bar so high, you're going to want to go to sleep just to dream of having sex with me over wanting to have sex with anyone else every again."
"That's very-"
Aubrey cuts her off with a quick kiss, then pulls back and locks eyes with her. "You don't have permission to talk. You've done enough talking in regards to having sex with me, haven't you?"
"I don't know if that was permission to talk or not."
"It wasn't." Aubrey rests her lips close to Beca ear. "I don't want to hear you make a sound, or I am going to bring you very close, and then I am going to walk away."
Beca's knees go weak; Aubrey can feel her relying more on the wall, and she hasn't even touched her yet. She stares at Aubrey with her mouth half open, like she's trying to determine whether Aubrey is serious or not – and is too afraid to test her query.
Power surges through Aubrey's veins like someone physically injected it through the IV port in her hand. This is the first time in days she's had control over anything, and to top off this self-aggrandizement, she has complete authority over Beca right now. There is a rush of warmth through her body that causes her cheeks to flush pink and the area between her legs to become very, very pleasantly uncomfortable – and she resists the urge to touch herself, her firm grasp on self-control serving only to deepen her own desires.
She kisses Beca's jaw and neck, slowly – listening for her breath to hitch, waiting for her to squirm. She doesn't have Beca mapped out like she does Chloe, but that just means she can take her time – and has an excuse to pay extra attention to the flower tattoo on Beca's shoulder, because it's gorgeous, and Aubrey really likes it, and she can see it up close while she's brushing her lips across it. It's hard to believe Beca has something on her body that's pink.
Beca makes good on her agreement to not make a sound – until Aubrey decides to nip at her neck. And then she almost does. Her head falls back and hits the wall with a dull thud, and her chest rises and falls with greater desperation, and a whine turns into a silent arch of her back that nearly has her feet sliding out from under her on the wet floor.
Maybe this isn't the safest place for this to happen.
Aubrey pulls back – and stops, because she wants Beca to think she was too loud, wants her to feel that panic and that need for Aubrey to keep going. Not only does she want to feel less alone, she wants to feel in control. She wants to feel needed and useful.
And she does.
Beca's eyes fly open and she looks at Aubrey to ask what she's doing. Aubrey can see the confusion and desperation in Beca's expression.
"Beg," Aubrey demands.
Beca's mouth stays shut, but the wheels are clearly turning in her head as she tries to decide whether or not this is permission to talk.
Aubrey arches her brows. Her entire body is burning, a stark contrast from how cold it's been. Her face is definitely flushed, and beads of sweat are forming all over her arms and back – from the heat coming off the water and lust.
Beca doesn't speak – doesn't even move.
"This is permission to talk. I said beg. Now."
"Touch me," the words tumble hastily from Beca's lips.
"I have to think about it."
"Aubrey…"
"Say please."
"Please."
"Please what?" Aubrey asks.
"Aubrey, please, touch me."
"Where?"
"You know where," Beca sputters.
"No, I don't."
Beca gulps. She butter melting underneath her, and Aubrey fucking loves it. The minute she chooses to fight back, Aubrey can just leave. And they both know that Aubrey would, in fact, leave her here like this. "Everywhere."
"No specifics?"
"Yes, yes, specifics."
"Then out with it, Beca, what do you want?"
"D-"
"If you call me 'dude', I will destroy you."
"Aubrey, I want your hand between my legs," Beca tells her, "Please."
"See. That wasn't so hard, was it? Go kneel on the bench."
Beca backs herself up toward the bench.
"Say, 'Yes, Aubrey.'"
"Yes, Aubrey." Beca positions herself on her knees on the bench, and it looks like a less slippery position that won't lead her to fall and end up in a coma with Chloe. Aubrey is pretty sure her sex rating would dip deep down into the negatives if that happened.
She closes the distance between her and Beca again, and slips her hand down between Beca's legs. "No more talking," she commands, then slides the tips of her fingers up and down Beca's inner thigh. Because Beca was specific, but she wasn't that specific. She knows she's succeeding when Beca's face ends up buried against her good shoulder, and it feels like she's trying not to cry, laugh, and moan all at the same time. She keeps avoiding the right area until she feels Beca start to squirm. And then she forces her upright and bites just next to her collar bone as her fingers go exactly where she knows Beca wants them to.
Both of Beca's hands end up in her own hair, then on Aubrey, then awkwardly reaching for the wall behind her. She can't quite seem to figure out where to hold onto; her position on the bench doesn't give her a lot of options in finding support. She was the one who chose to kneel down in the middle of the bench, instead of along one of the side walls though, so Aubrey forces her to deal with it. If she falls, it'll just be into Aubrey – although Aubrey doesn't exactly have the sturdiness of a brick wall right now either.
Aubrey takes her time – teasing her with one finger, then finally picking up a steady pace with two. She brings her close only to slow it all back down as many times as she can before Beca finally, accidentally, makes a noise and lets Aubrey know she's right where Aubrey wants her to be.
A five? Really?
Her lips and teeth find Beca's jawline as her fingers move faster, refusing to slow down even as Beca's entire body tenses and she fails to be silent at all.
Aubrey is not a five. Aubrey tips the scale, and Beca is a bratty pain in her ass.
Beca starts to come back down, but Aubrey still doesn't stop. She keeps going faster and more forcefully, and within seconds, Beca is coming again, even harder than the first time – and a rush of warmth runs down Aubrey's fingers and hand. Did she just…?
Aubrey doesn't know the exact term for what just happened, but she's pretty sure it means she did a damn good job.
Beca collapses back, panting and looking really fucking embarrassed. "I've never done that before," she swears like it's a bad thing – although judging by her entire body shaking, it felt like a really fucking good thing. "What the hell, Aubrey."
And while Aubrey has never made anybody do that before, she's not going to admit it. "If it was that bad, we never have to do it again."
"No, no. That's not…" Beca's embarrassment is making this even better.
"You're welcome."
Beca leans her head back against the wall and closes her eyes – a job well done. "Where are you going?" she asks when Aubrey walks away from her.
Aubrey's entire body is on edge now too – and she just wants some release. Just one moment where she feels some relief. She turns to face the wall, and slides her fingers down between her own legs. Her hand is tired now, but, honestly, it feels really good just sliding it slowly back and forth, not even penetrating herself. Maybe if she's gentle, she won't collapse to the shower floor once she's done with herself.
"Aubrey, come back."
Aubrey ignores her, keeping her back to her – drowning in the temporary feeling of being in control.
"You're seriously going to make me try to stand right now?" Beca stands up and positions herself between Aubrey and the wall, not touching her. "You never said anything about me kissing you while you get yourself off," she points out.
No, no, she didn't.
Beca cups her face. "How did it feel giving me an order and watching me do it?" she asks.
Aubrey closes her eyes, the tension already building.
"Yes, Aubrey," Beca mumbles against her lips, reaching up to tangle both of her hands in Aubrey's hair, "Anything you want, Aubrey." She presses their lips together.
Even though Beca seems focused on kissing her, Aubrey doesn't want her to see the moment she loses herself. She pulls away and turns her head just enough for her face to be slightly buried in Beca's hair, as she reaches her tipping point and chokes back a quiet cry. She collapses into her after that, still supporting herself, but just barely. Her body doesn't seem to know what to do with itself, and just pulsates and shakes, and not for the same reason Beca's does.
Beca's arms wrap around her, helping her hold herself up. "We should probably get dressed," she says after a minute, "Before your mom thinks we're having sex in here or something."
Her mom. Her mom who is in the other room. The walls aren't very thick, but, at least, she doubts anyone in that room could hear much of anything over the shower and the fan – but Aubreystill has to go out there knowing she just had sex with Beca in the hospital shower, with her mom in the next room.
"I'm joking, Aubrey, she's not going to know," Beca says, "Unless she is psychic, but in that case, we're not the only people she knows have had sex. It's pretty normal."
"Beca." Aubrey groans and pushes her away.
"You think too much," Beca tells her.
"Coming from someone who doesn't think enough." Aubrey washes her hand in the shower. "Turn around," she demands so she can wash other parts of herself that are no longer clean as well.
Beca turns and goes to dry off. "Aubrey…"
"What?"
"Thank you…"
Aubrey turns off the water, and goes to get her towel. "Next time, put on a strap-on, and go ask Conrad."
"So, you're saying you never want to do this again?"
Aubrey ignores her question so she doesn't have to make a decision about that. "Maybe you should think less about taking my clothes off and help me put them on." She waits for Beca to mock her with some sort of 'yes, Aubrey, anything you want', but it never comes.
"I can do both at the same time." Beca starts helping her with her shirt. "I'm a multitasker."
Aubrey rolls her eyes. "Enjoy putting your fake dick into Conrad's ass."
"You're not going to be there?" Beca asks, "But you're into that. We could invite Brian too."
"I had sex one time with Howie, and only Howie, and that was it."
"I can't believe I just had sex with the person who fucked all of Sigma Beta Theta simultaneously."
Aubrey struggles her pants on, then abandons Beca in the bathroom.
