96itadakimasu96: There should just be a group hug at this point.
Pixie1913: I think being in limbo, not knowing if someone is going to wake up or not would be the most frightening part. Bc at some point, I think one just wants finality, no matter what that means.
Redpanda6290: I mean, who would be able to sleep alone after that?
FromTumblr: Ding Ding Ding! We have a winner!
OrthoGoddess07: If it makes you feel any better, I think stories where characters get complete amnesia are pretty cliche at this point. I mean, there are some great ones, but meh.
SunDanceQT: I mentioned this to someone else, but I'll say it again, I would hate to be in that limbo not knowing what is going to happen to someone - just no finality, always wondering.
Guest: Thank you!


Dysrhythmia


Stop and stare;
I think I'm moving, but I go nowhere.
Yeah, I know that everyone gets scared;
I've become what I can't be.
Oh, do you see what I see?
- OneRepublic


"I think we all have the same fears about being apart from Chloe," Julia says as they reach Aubrey's room again.

"I don't think we do," Beca speaks up.

"What do you mean?" Julia asks.

Aubrey simply shakes her head. "We don't need to talk about it." The point is, they should be with Chloe. It doesn't need to be voiced why. She gathers her clothes for the day, then stops and just looks at them. This is really happening. She's going home. There should be more feelings of relief. Chloe should have woken up by now.

Julia folds her arms. "Then why don't we talk about it, Beca?"

Aubrey stands up straight, taken aback by the suggestion. "Stop it," she demands.

Beca is quiet.

"What's scaring you that I don't understand?" Julia asks.

"I said stop." Is her voice not working? Is her mom deaf? She's just going to…to ignore Aubrey's words and ask Beca, while Aubrey is standing right there?

"It might be helpful to talk about it before we go," Julia says.

Aubrey's fingers are digging so hard into her clothes, they're turning white. Maybe, she tries to reason with herself, if Chloe's mom understands, she won't want Chloe to be alone either. She'll understand someone should be there looking after her, keeping her safe. The room becomes so silent, Aubrey can hear her blood rushing through her ears. But she can't tell Chloe's mom that she followed Chloe's bloody handprints down a dark tunnel, thinking she was never going to see Chloe again – or that she was going to find only her body. She can't tell Chloe's mother the things that happened to her daughter. She can't do that to her.

"Chloe, uh, went missing for awhile," Beca speaks up again.

Aubrey's eyes nearly bug right out of her head. No. No. It's Beca who said she didn't want to talk to anyone. It's Beca living in her 'la-dee-da, none of this is happening' world. They're not having this conversation right now – or ever.

"Then Aubrey and I got separated too. So, being apart is a little…" Beca makes a sound affect, rather than expressing her thoughts in words.

"Was she unconscious when you found her?" Julia asks.

"No. We, uh, had to, uh, we had to watch that," Beca answers.

"Shut up!" Aubrey doesn't realize she's yelling until it's too late. "Both of you, shut up!" She never wants to think about that; she never wants to picture watching Chloe's eye close in her mind, ever. That one second that had lasted a lifetime and outweighed every other single moment of terror Aubrey had experienced was quite possibly their last. She would give her life to never have to see that moment again – not even inside her own mind.

God has to know that.

He has to know that she would rather die than ever have to relive that.

She would…she would take back telling the police about JJ. She would give up Chloe romantically – even as a friend; she would back off from her and Beca. She would go back home and her father could hit her every single day, as many times as he wants, for the rest of her life. She would give up everything. Just as long as she never has to think about that again.

"Aubrey…" Julia tries.

"Fuck you," the words just slip out.

Julia doesn't so much as flinch. Of course, she doesn't.

Aubrey storms into the bathroom to get dressed, slamming the door behind her – then ends up hovering over the bathroom sink, eyes shut tight, until Beca joins her, and she's forced to swallow back the nausea and put on her clothes.

"Aubs…"

"Don't talk to me right now."

xxxxx

"She's finally gone."

"Beca helped us move, Aubrey. You could be a little more grateful."

"I'm grateful she's gone." Aubrey sat down on the couch. Their couch, in their apartment, in Queens, New York.

"So, what do you want to do?"

Aubrey tilted her head.

"We could go to Manhattan," Chloe suggested, "Or go see the Brooklyn Bridge. Or we could go see the Unisphere."

Aubrey leaned back, and pulled her legs up to sit crisscross. "We finally have the apartment to ourselves, and you want to go out?"

"If I didn't know any better, Aubrey, I'd say you want to be alone with me."

"Well, it's a good thing you know better then."

"Yeah," Chloe agreed, "Or else I might try to sit on the couch with you or something." She gave Aubrey a look like just the thought of that was crazy.

Aubrey smirked. "I wouldn't want that."

"I know." Chloe turned and walked toward the kitchen.

Aubrey's smirk faded into a lopsided frown. "Where are you going? Chloe?" She sunk as low as to pout. "Chloe…!"

xxxxx

No one says anything when Aubrey comes back out of the bathroom. They just sneak glances at her as they finish packing up their things, looking at her as if she's about to shatter like 'stained glass'. She sits down on the bed once there's nothing left to do, and bunches the blanket up between her forehead and the table one last time. She had tried to pack the blanket too, but Julia pulled it back out of the bag, claiming that the plane ride to Seattle had been cold and they might need it. So the blanket and alligator stay out for physical comfort reasons (apparently, she might need a pillow too), and Aubrey's doll gets packed into one of the carry-ons to minimize the risk of Aubrey losing it again. She wants to keep that out for different comfort reasons, but that would be ridiculous.

"Now we just have to wait for your discharge papers and your friends," Julia says.

And for them to take the IV port out of her hand, Aubrey thinks, as she flexes her fingers, suddenly hyperaware of the plastic beneath her skin. She buries her face deeper into the blanket, just wanting the needle to finally be permanently out.

Fortunately, they don't have to wait long before the nurse comes in and gets everything set for them to leave.

Aubrey sits up straight as she signs the paperwork, as her vitals are checked and her bandage is changed one last time - and she plasters on the fakest of fake smiles when the nurse asks how she's feeling. "I'm okay." She's going home. She has to be. This is what was supposed to fix everything.

Nobody so much as argues.

xxxxx

Chloe poked her head around the corner.

Aubrey looked at her.

Chloe just stared back – a mischievous gleam in her expression.

"Do I look entertained to you?" Aubrey asked, not about to play her game of cat and mouse.

"Are you implying it's my job to keep you entertained?" Chloe asked with a smirk.

"No, and if it was, you'd be fired."

"Ouch." Chloe walked back into the living room. "You wouldn't even put me on probation first, Officer?"

"Consider this your probation." Aubrey looked at her expectantly.

Chloe rolled her eyes in good nature, and climbed up onto the couch with her. "Can you believe we have our own place?"

Their own place – somewhere that belonged to both of them. Honestly, after the past year, Aubrey hadn't been sure Chloe was going to want that with her anymore, and, yet, here they were. She settled in as Chloe sat down beside her, hesitating a moment before resting her head against Chloe's shoulder. Maybe they could stay like this forever – together, happy.

"Did you hear me?" Chloe asked.

"Mhm." Aubrey took the opportunity to wrap herself around Chloe's body, and stared at the living room. Their living room, in their apartment. This was their place. Their home. She snuggled in close and smiled.

xxxxx

"Stop looking at me." Her voice is hoarse from the unshed tears that caused her to turn back to using the blanket as a shield from the world after the nurse was gone, and she doesn't need to see them to know they're staring. Time seemed to have stop right along with her when she curled back into the table – giving everyone plenty of time to pity her. Hurry up, Brian. She just wants to go, but also not go at all. He had texted they were on their way at some point; it's hard to know how long ago when every second feels like an hour.

Beca sighs, while Julia just keeps running her fingers through Aubrey's hair – even as she tries to tilt her head away. It stays like that for awhile – Beca occasionally making a random noise, her mom refusing to stop touching her even when Aubrey clearly doesn't want her to.

And then the world sends her head first into trying to make sense of things all over again: not sparing a moment to allow her to adjust to the change.

"Houston, we have a publicity problem." Conrad bursts into the room without bothering to knock.

"Can you not say it like that?" Brian asks, following him inside, "You sound like an extra on some daytime soap opera."

"Oh, because the primetime ones are so much better?" Conrad asks.

"Well, they wouldn't start off a conversation with 'Houston, we have a publicity problem', would they?" Brian replies.

"Well, what would they say, Brian?"

Brian turns to Aubrey. "Something happened, but you have absolutely nothing to worry about."

"Well, now it sounds like she has something to worry about, Brian. Now it sounds like she should be worried."

"Well, that's not how I originally planned to start the conversation," Brian says, "You asked what I would say if I was on a primetime television series."

Aubrey doesn't even bother to look at them. Her face remains half buried in the blanket, their presence nothing more than a noisy blur that she can see in her peripheral vision. She just tries to understand what's happening.

"Houston, I think we have a lot of problems right now," Conrad whispers, "You didn't notice she was upset before you told her we have a problem?"

"I didn't tell her we have a problem," Brian replies in a mock whisper, "You did."

"Cinematics," Conrad says.

"The word you're looking for is 'semantics'."

"Like I said, Brian, cinemantics."

"What's going on?" Julia asks.

"Did something happen to Chloe?" Aubrey finally starts to tune in.

"No," Julia tells her, turning to wrap her in a hug, "Chloe is fine."

Aubrey twists away from her. "You don't know that," she says as her brain is still playing catch up, "They said something is wrong."

"I said it's a PR problem," Conrad says.

"The problem is your brother is a dick," Brian adds, "And he told the reporters about you and Beca."

Aubrey is already fighting to move the blanket and the table.

"Aubrey, stop and listen to what they're saying to you," Julia says.

"I feel like we could have addressed this better…" Conrad muses.

"I don't think so," Brian quips, "I think you went about this really well."

Aubrey can still hear Brian and Conrad going back and forth, but she can't register what they're saying again. She has heard and understood enough. They aren't safe here. If JJ told which hospital they're in, that means Jesse must know – and Chloe is, in fact, not safe. "We have to leave right now." Aubrey doesn't expect any of them to take her seriously, because it's not like anyone took her seriously before, but she has to try. She can't just leave though, not without Chloe.

"Why?" Julia asks, "Why do we have to leave right at this second?"

"Because he's going to come here," Aubrey tells her, "And we're all going to die."

That shuts everyone up – for a second anyway.

"There are police everywhere right now," Julia says, "They're making sure the hospital is safe."

They shouldn't even be in a hospital; they're putting everybody at risk – all these people, people who are already vulnerable, the injured, the sick, women who have just had babies, those just trying to visit their loved ones. Aubrey and Beca are putting them at risk. They're putting Chloe's family at risk and Aubrey's friends… She was stupid to think they could all just go back to Queens together. She should be isolated from everybody. But even if Aubrey goes off alone, he'll kill them. He'll kill them, because he can hurt her that way. "He'll kill the police too."

"No, Honey, he won't."

They're all looking at her like she lost her mind – because they didn't have to watch an entire group of people be brutally murdered. They weren't trapped in a room being shot at. They didn't move any bodies, or give CPR to their friend. They don't understand. "I know it sounds..." Aubrey tries to remain calm for her credibility, "I know what I'm saying." She looks at Beca. I am not crazy.

"Yeah," Beca agrees, "Yeah, we should probably go."

"Thank you." Aubrey stands up, then stops, gripping the side of the bed. What if he somehow knows they're leaving. He could be at the airport… Everyone gathers things up – while Aubrey just stands there useless, thinking about all the ways he could be waiting to kill them.

Beca doesn't move either. She's just looking at Aubrey, expression nervous but otherwise unreadable.

"Don't worry, I will take care of the paparazzi," Conrad pops up in front of Aubrey.

That sounds like more reason to worry.

He places his hands on Aubrey's arms. "I was born for this."

"I thought you were born for sex and donuts," Brian comments.

"And fame!" Conrad squeezes Aubrey's upper arms. "Do you believe in me?"

"You're hurting my arm." Aubrey steps away from him, feeling worse when he deflates for a fraction of a second.

"I don't think much sleep was had last night," Julia says gently, "Aubrey and Beca stayed up with Chloe."

"I don't need you to defend me," Aubrey blurts out, proving the point that she's not in the best mood. How could she be when Jesse probably knows where they are? No one understands the danger they're in. They can't leave until they know Chloe is safe. Her hand moves from the bed to her stomach. Maybe they need to switch flights to a different airport? Or find another way to get home… What if they were being chased from one place to another again?

"Should we all be panicking?" Conrad asks.

Beca looks his direction like she doesn't know.

And Aubrey's answer is a firm 'yes' that she doesn't say out loud.

"I don't know how to panic," Brian answers.

Julia shakes her head. "Panic doesn't accomplish anything."

It does when you're running for your life.

"How are we getting to the airport?" Julia asks.

"Rental car," Brian answers, "You want me to pull it around front?"

Julia nods. "Do you two think you can take our things?"

They both voice their agreements as they start picking up what they have of luggage.

"Why are we waiting?" Aubrey swallows hard, watching the boys walk out without them. Did she not hear a word Aubrey just said?

Julia sits down on the edge of the bed and looks at her.

Because Aubrey needs to calm down. That's why. She looks up toward the ceiling, shaking her head. It doesn't matter what they do. They're as good as dead. She pulled the trigger without enough thought; she should have aimed to kill. That thought makes her feel sicker.

"There are probably going to be at least some reporters out there," Julia says, watching as Aubrey starts walking the room, "I think it'll be easier to get past them if the car is close and we don't have any bags to carry."

Right. There's that too. Aubrey stops pacing near one of the corners of the room, and nods.

Beca is quiet. She sits down on a chair, and just looks in the direction of the hallway, not saying a word.

"Everyone is doing everything possible to keep us safe."

Sure, they are. If that was the case, they wouldn't be apart from Chloe right now. She leans her head on the wall. If Chloe's mom wasn't here to stop her, she would be marching herself straight to Chloe's room to demand to fly back with her. Someone should be flying back with her. At least if something does happen, Chloe wouldn't be alone. The back of her throat tastes bitter, and she does her best to ignore it.

"Sit down until they come back, please," Julia directs her.

Aubrey walks over to the chair next to Beca's and practically throws herself down on it.

Beca is tapping her fingers on her knee. She glances briefly at Aubrey, before turning her attention back to the police loitering around the hall.

"Girls," Julia addresses them, "There are a lot of measures being taken to keep everyone safe. You are safe, and Chloe is safe."

It would take nothing short of the Marines lined up outside the door with machine guns to convince Aubrey those words are true.

"They're gonna catch him, okay? And they're gonna put him in jail."

They why haven't they yet? He was shot. There should at least be a body. How could he be injured and hide? Someone else has to be helping him – and nobody knows who that person is.

Nobody knows who to look for.

They're all in danger, and there is nothing anyone can do.

Beca sighs and throws her head back, not moving when it ends up against the side of Aubrey's head – and Aubrey takes her hand.

Unless he's dead – unless he crawled away and died in the bushes like roadkill, and they just haven't found him yet.

Then maybe Julia is right. Maybe they are safe.

But how can they be sure?

"What are you thinkin'?" Julia asks.

It's difficult to pinpoint just one thought, especially when half of them contradict each other.

"I don't know." Aubrey releases Beca's hand, and places her hand on her own forehead, and then on her stomach again. She thinks she's going to be sick.

"Do you need a bucket?"

Aubrey shakes her head. No. She's fine. She just…she just needs to splash some cold water on her face and then breathe. She bolts upright out of her chair a little too quickly, and Beca nearly falls to the side. "I'm sorry." She reaches out her hand to steady, without actually touching her, because she's also stepping back toward the bathroom. They have no way of knowing if they're safe. They're going to leave the mock safety of these walls, and step outside where they can't pretend somebody can stop something from happening to them. Queens has no lobby where the cops can loiter. Her back hits the wall, and she gropes for the doorway as the walls of the room she's in start to close in around her. The moment they step foot out of this room, it's real that anything could happen.

Someone says something, but it sounds like she's underwater.

Underwater and being smothered by a pillow.

Her head feels light, and the wall slows her as she sinks toward the ground.

The world is turning on its axis, even as she's sitting down.

They might be walking out the door, right into death's hands.

xxxxx

"We should paint the walls."

"We're renting, Chloe; we can't paint the walls."

"Who's going to know?" Chloe asked, "As long as we paint them back if we ever plan to leave."

"They probably do inspections." Aubrey pulled the blanket they had grabbed off the back of the couch tighter around them. "And I think they'll notice if the walls are a different color."

Chloe rolled her eyes. "Landlords are no fun."

"We could get decals," Aubrey suggested, half sitting up in excitement as the idea popped into her mind, "You know, the ones you just peel off."

"You mean like 'Live, Laugh, Love'?" Chloe asked, grinning at her.

Aubrey made a face. "No." Gross. That was so cheesy. "I mean like the silhouette images. Like…ones with dandelions and butterflies."

"Ooh. I like that. We have to go to Target later."

Aubrey flopped back down into the space between Chloe and the back of the couch. Maybe. If she ever felt like moving again.

Chloe reached up and rested her hand on the side of Aubrey's face. "Aubrey…"

Aubrey met her eyes, still smiling.

"I'm glad we're here together."

"Me too."

"I can't picture us apart."

Aubrey tucked her face into the space between Chloe's head and shoulder. "Me neither."

xxxxx

Aubrey's hand is lifted up from the floor and something small is being pressed into her palm. She squeezes her eyes shut and leans her head back, in a fight with her body just to breathe. She wants to crawl right out of her skin. But before she can try, her hand is being directed to her mouth, and a pill presses against her lips. It's bitter and disgusting as she's forced to use her tongue to maneuver it to the back of her throat, and then her mouth is too dry to swallow it. A glass of water being tilted up against her lips next meets her need. She drinks as much needed to swallow the medication, then tilts her head away, too nauseated for more.

She should have shot Jesse in the head.

She was too impulsive.

If she had just taken a moment to look at her target…

She shakes her head at herself.

Always keep your eye on the target, always.

If she had just done it correctly, they would probably be safe.

Hasn't it always been this way though? Everyone has room to make mistakes; but the moment she makes one, it's something that destroys everything.

She bangs the back of her head against the wall.

"Whoa, no, we're not doing that." Julia's hand becomes a barrier between Aubrey's head and the wall.

Aubrey bends her legs and arches her back, trying to escape being drawn in closer – but the space she creates between herself and the wall only makes it easier for Julia to get her arms around Aubrey all the way, and she collapses back down once she registers there is no threat. Everything's fine. Nothing is fine. She's gasping like a fish out of water.

"Give it a minute to kick in."

The moment Aubrey starts to slow down, she knows exactly what she took.

Where she did find Xanax?

"There you go." Julia wipes Aubrey's cheeks with her palm as Aubrey begins to gain some semblance of control over herself again. "That's it. Deep breaths. Good girl."

Aubrey lets her head lull as the familiar feeling she hates washes over her – the feeling that Chloe so often talks her through. She goes from feeling unable to get up to floating away while still collapsed on the ground and unable to get up.

"Aubrey, I know," Julia whispers against her forehead, "that you are very scared, and that's okay. That's okay. This is okay. It's normal, and it's okay. But, Baby, TSA…" She pauses. "We just gotta get through the airport. You just gotta keep a handle on this until we get home, okay? I know you; I know you can do that. Once we're home, you're free to feel however you feel. Okay?"

Aubrey numbly nods – setting her main focus on getting home, not thinking about her emotions at all anymore. She can feel everything telling her not to leave this room being locked away, begging to be let back out, but there is nothing she can do. Xanax took the key to that part of her brain. She slowly wipes her own face, then lets her hand rest over her aching eyes. She doesn't open them until Julia helps her up off the floor and back up onto her feet. It takes a second to realize she's leaning on her and stand up on her own.

The first thing she sees when she does open her eyes is Julia leaning down to pick up her purse - and her own things inside of that purse. Wallet. Keys. She knew that much, but it didn't occur to her that she might have Aubrey's medications too. She just stares until it's zipped up, and her things are no longer visible, then looks at Beca – who is staring hard at the floor, her leg bouncing up and down at an alarming rate.

Aubrey is about to go sit back down beside her when Conrad and Brian walk back in.

"Everything is all set," Brian says, "Everything okay?"

Aubrey nods as more of an automatic response than anything else. She's going home. She has to be okay.