Bechloe-Bible-49: Yes.
AntiqueSoul83: Did I survive tho? Did I?
Erikuhj: Well now I need to know what song it was.
Guest: Obviously you should never go on vacation again. Obviously.


Dysrhythmia


Oh, my love, this is the beginning;
Open up your eyes so you don't miss it.
We can stand on top of what we're building,
Oh, to see right where we are heading.
But in the shadows, we'll see nothing.
- Elenowen


Current Date: Monday – October 24, 2016

Time Passed: 36 Days

Time Passed Post Island: 31 Days


"Aubrey. Aubrey, look at this." Noah puts his phone in her face, showing her another photo of a shark.

"Aubrey, keep your head still." One hand flat and a hairbrush in the other, Julia uses both to turn Aubrey's head back where she wants it. "If you want your hair up, stop moving."

"Look at this one," Noah says.

Julia snatches his phone from her hand and puts it in her back pocket.

Aubrey and Noah share a look as she gathers Aubrey's hair up into a bun. Things are easier with her cast off, but no sensation in her left hand creates difficulty in many areas. She can pull her own hair up into a ponytail, but past that she's still trying to figure out. "Ow," she complains as a bobby pin scrapes her scalp, then shrinks a little under Julia's narrowed eyes.

"Do you want me to finish this?" Julia asks.

"Yes."

"Then stop moving."

"Are you sure about this, Aubrey?" Beca asks, barely looking up from her cereal.

No, but life has no certainties right now. Maybe it never did. She needs to have a career though – because as much as she has changed, she is also the same. Aubrey presses her thumb against the palm of her hand to feel the pressure it creates. "I thought it through," is all she says. It's still difficult to wrap her mind around – she's going to be a teacher. A first grade teacher. "Are you going to be okay?"

"You gave me an entire to-do list to keep me busy for the next year, so…"

Somebody needs to begin ordering supplies for the house now that the money is in their accounts and they've picked out a plot of land. And seeing as how the rest of them have jobs, that leaves Beca. "Don't fuck it up. You seem like the type of person to screw something up in order to get out of doing it anymore."

Beca raises her eyebrows. "I want this house as much as you do. And I don't want to build it only to have it fall on my head. I'm going to do it right."

"I'll believe it when I see it. Ow." Aubrey turns when Julia jabs her again. This time she's sure it was on purpose.

"I told you to stop moving. You're all done." Julia steps back.

Aubrey rubs her head.

"Are you sure you don't want me to drive you?" Julia asks as she walks to the bathroom to put the brush away, "I can drop you off on the way to the hospital."

"No." Aubrey knows she's worried about her driving with her arm still messed up. Aubrey is worried too – about her car being rigged to explode, about being driven off the road, about them finding her car near a river but never her body. But she needs to do this. It's more than just her physical strength that she wants to have back. No more cowering. She can't control whether or not Jesse comes for her – but she can control whether she's hiding in a corner or going down fighting when it happens.

"I'm going back to bed." Beca tilts her bowl to her lips to gulp down the milk then drops it in the sink. "See you when you get home."

"You have things to do."

"It's six in the morning. Nobody is awake but you guys." Beca turns and walks away from her, muttering something about 'morning people'.

"Are you sure you don't want your mom and I to drop you off?" Noah confirms.

"I'm okay. Thanks."

xxxxx

Everything in this classroom, Chloe arranged or created. She placed the art on the bulletin board, chose where the bookshelf should be, placed the name tags on the desks. Stepping into her world gives Aubrey a sense of peace. On her desk is a heart shaped picture frame – and in it is a picture of the two of them. Chloe chose to put that there.

"Like we spoke about on the phone, your students should arrive between 8:00 and 8:15," Mr. Falcon says as Aubrey walks around the room, examining the entire thing in detail. "Chloe should have two months of lesson plans put together, but a few of the other teachers copied theirs just in case…"

Aubrey smirks. He doesn't need to elaborate. There is no way Chloe has anything prepared months in advance. "I imagine I'll need those." She steps in front of the schedule and looks at the day ahead of her today – and every day for at least the next eight months.

"I'm sorry you're being thrown in head first here," Mr. Falcon apologizes, "We started out the year short staffed. We weren't prepared for-"

"I can handle it," Aubrey cuts off whatever he's about to say.

"I believe it. I don't think your previous boss likes me very much; he seemed quite upset we were stealing you away. He only had good things to say. In fact, one conversation led me to believe you're more capable than half of our staff."

"Are you our teacher now?" Violet asks from the doorway.

Aubrey looks at the clock. It's barely 7:00. "You're early."

"Violet's dad works early," Mr. Falcon explains, "We have an agreement." He looks at Violet. "She's supposed to be in my office."

Violet's face falls. "I'm bored in there."

"I could use some help – if you need someone to look after her," Aubrey offers, "Maybe she can show me the ropes." She smiles at Violet and her messy, all over the place hair.

"Please?" Violet looks at Mr. Falcon.

"Be my guest. Ring the office if you need anything or have questions. Or Mr. Peterson, in the gym. He covered in here most of last week."

"I think we got this. Right, Violet?"

Violet nods eagerly. "We got this."

Even if her helper is a six year old, might still be better than nothing. Aubrey already knows she needs to get as many of these kids on her side as she can right off the bat before whatever awe they have for her goes out the window. "Come on, Vi." A shortened version of her name just kind of slips out, and Violet beams at her as she follows her inside.

Aubrey pulls out Chloe's desk chair and takes a seat then swivels to look at her first student. She's just going to have to come right out and ask what's on her mind. "Does anyone brush your hair in the morning?" She doesn't mean to embarrass her and feels like shit when Violet's cheeks turn a light shade of pink, but she can't think of a better way to ask it.

Rather than a verbal answer, Violet points to one of Chloe's desk drawers.

Aubrey opens it up and on top of a stack of papers is a pink hairbrush.

"My dad is too busy," Violet murmurs, "He can only brush it before bed."

"And your mom?" Aubrey dares to ask.

"She died last year."

Oh. The words are like a punch in the lungs. "I'm sorry," Aubrey whispers and picks up the brush, "Can I brush it?"

Violet nods and turns around to stand between her legs.

Maybe tomorrow Aubrey will show her how to do it herself so this doesn't happen again. Today, however, she runs the brush down through the back of Violet's hair. "Do you eat breakfast in the morning?" She understands the trouble Julia has brushing her hair when instead of speaking, Violet shakes her head.

"Ms. Chloe brings me some. Or she did. I have lunch and dinner though."

Aubrey stops brushing and rustles through her purse, having no doubt an extra snack was packed for her when she wasn't looking. She's right. She pulls out a Nutri-Grain bar and holds it up. "Probably not the best, but-"

"That's what Ms. Chloe brings me!" Violet takes it from her hand. "I love these!"

So she wasn't losing her mind; her food was going missing, even though Chloe adamantly denied it all the time by claiming she didn't like Aubrey's 'health bars'. She helps Violet open it and then resumes brushing her hair until there's not a strand out of place. "Does Chloe feed anyone else?"

"No. But she has a toothbrush and toothpaste for Camden and lotion for Tyrese because he gets itchy skin. But don't tell anyone. Teachers aren't supposed to do that." Violet lowers her voice to a whisper. "But most of them do anyway."

"Got it," Aubrey whispers back and puts the brush away. She stands up and walks across the room to beanbag and pulls it out onto the carpet. "Come here. Sit down."

Violet follows her and throws herself down onto the chair.

"You must have to get up really early, huh?" Aubrey asks as she pulls her jacket off.

"Yeah. And go to bed late."

"Well, I like getting up early – so you won't have to wait in the office anymore." She drapes her jacket over Violet then goes to retrieve one of Chloe's sweaters from where it has been thrown behind her desk.

"You smell good." Violet closes her eyes and snuggles up with the jacket. "Like peaches." She smiles and yawns.

Aubrey sits back down at the desk and pulls out several binders of class information to skim through before the rest of the kids arrive. They contain everything from classroom food allergies (very important if she's going to be sneaking them food) to the expectations for state testing. It's going to take forever to get through so much information. She does her best to prioritize what she needs to know now and bookmarks the rest for taking home.

Rose is the first student to arrive after Violet. She walks in dragging an extra backpack and jacket behind her. "Violet left these in the-" She freezes and looks at Aubrey. "Are you our new teacher?"

"Looks like I am."

There is no need to wake Violet, because the high-pitched squeal that comes from Rose is enough to wake the entire building. She drops both hers and Violet's things on the floor so she's free to skip across the room and throw her arms around Aubrey. "I'm so happy!" She looks up at Aubrey with the widest grin on her face. "Guys, look!"

Several kids all walking in at the same time rush her as well until there is barely room around the chair.

"Hey! Hey!" one of them yells, "I lost a tooth last night! Look! Look!"

"Ms. Aubrey, are you staying the whole first grade?!"

"Do you like ducks?"

"I had oatmeal for breakfast this morning!"

So many words are coming at her at once that Aubrey can barely keep track of who is saying what. "Let's put our things away," she says, "We can talk at the carpet until everyone arrives."

They scatter toward the coat shelves and hang their backpacks and jackets up on their assigned hooks before leaping to the carpet where they all seem to just throw themselves at it.

Violet stands and places Aubrey's jacket on the back of her chair before finding her carpet letter.

The floor is too hard for her and with Violet sitting on a letter, Aubrey is able to snag the bean bag chair for herself. The second she sits down, the crying boy Julia handled the previous week appears in the doorway. He wraps his arms around the wall on either side and refuses to walk in, despite one of the staff trying to carefully nudge him in the right direction. This is what she was afraid of. She asks herself why. What exactly is she scared of?

Connecting with how he's feeling?

Rejection?

Failing him?

All of the above?

She slowly stands back up and walks to the doorway. Julia said she hadn't said anything to him. She just let him know he want alone. Aubrey offers out her hand.

He shakes his head and presses his face against the doorframe.

"Chloe is my best friend," Aubrey says, getting down to his level, "My picture is on her desk to prove it. She trusts me. You can too."

"How long will you be here?" he asks.

"The rest of the year."

"You're lying."

"I'll be right back." Aubrey stands and walks to her desk to go through her bag. There isn't a lot in there. The lunch Julia packed her, two water bottles, her wallet… Nothing very useful. She turns and goes through Chloe's desk. Something in there has to belong to Aubrey. Like the compass Chloe borrowed and swore she was going to return. She snatches it up and carries it back to the doorway. "Do you know what collateral is?"

He shakes his head.

"You hold onto this and give it back to me at the end of the year. If I leave, you get to keep it." Aubrey holds it out to him.

It works. He takes it from her hand and carefully looks it over before stepping inside the room.

"Put it in your desk and then come sit down." Aubrey turns to find her beanbag has been taken over by three children. She shakes her head at them and they crawl better to their letters, whining about it.

More kids trickle in until eventually the entire class is present for her to take attendance and lunch count. They begin the morning with a calendar and some songs. She goes over the daily schedule. Then they all take a seat at their desks to learn.

So this is it.

Suddenly she's an elementary school teacher.

xxxxx

At lunch, Aubrey makes sure they all have an adequate amount of food before she leaves them in the hands of the cafeteria monitor – who was visibly impressed by how politely they entered the cafeteria. Even Benjamin learned she wasn't playing when after deciding to push his desk halfway across the room he found himself doing his work on the floor. They followed her down the hallway with silence, wide grins, and occasional skipping that led to them crashing into each other. All of them wanted to hold her hand – so, apparently that was a job now. Pleases and Thank Yous were used upon getting their lunches from the cafeteria line – and all of them found their correct seats without intervention. So far, so good.

She walks down the hall toward the teachers' lounge, packed lunch in hand. She could have packed her own lunch, but Julia insisted. The bag is probably rigged to tell her if she ate or threw her food in the trash. Once outside the door, she stops. Inside, teachers are chatting and she can hear them quite well. The discussion on who she is in relation to Chloe has already begun.

Part of her wants to walk in there with her head held high and watch their embarrassment when they realize she overheard. The other part can't take the idea of being stared at and potentially bombarded with questions. She turns and wanders the halls until she finds the library. There is a 'No Food or Drinks' sign on the door, but if she's lucky, librarians haven't changed since she was a kid.

The room is empty of children. Aubrey finds a table to sit at and unpacks her lunch. Some sort of sandwich wrap that looks like it might be turkey and cheese. Carrots. Hummus. Grapes. A note telling her to have a good day. She smiles and picks up the sticky note to keep it.

"Just don't do this when the fourth graders are in here eating lunch," the librarian, a woman in her fifties or sixties, addresses her, "I'm trying to make them believe it gets better once you get older."

Aubrey laughs despite feeling a little bit insulted.

"You must be new. I can tell because you still look happy. Subbing for third?"

Aubrey shakes her head. "Taking over for first grade."

"Ah." The mood in the room drops significantly lower. "Did you hear what happened to the old teacher? What a shame."

"Yeah," Aubrey whispers, "A shame."

"Well, let me know if you need anything. I'm Mrs. White. The kid's will tell you they remember it because my hair looks like a cloud." She grabs the handle of a book cart and looks away.

Aubrey looks down at her lunch, not feeling particularly motivated to eat. She does it because she needs to – and because Julia went to all the effort to make it for her.

Tomorrow will be better.

Tomorrow, she'll eat in her car.

She pulls out her new phone to text Beca until the half hour is over.

xxxxx

Recess is exactly how Aubrey remembers it. Madness. A few of her students remain attached to her side while the rest run screaming for the hills. It's difficult keeping track of them all while they share a playground with three other classes. The other first grade teachers form a huddle that Aubrey is sure Chloe would be eager to join. And while she isn't exactly shy, she can feel them staring at her – the fiancée of their friend who may never wake up. Trying not to dwell on it, she finds a game to play with the kids that doesn't involve too much physical exertion.

xxxxx

They're all tired and restless the second half of the day – Aubrey included. But they figure it out together. The kids alternate between learning and exercise videos on YouTube while Aubrey alternates between teaching and trying to maintain enough strength to make it to the end. It works well. And at dismissal, she realizes she was so busy that she managed to spend an entire day without feeling like her heart was trying to thud its way out of her chest. Her lungs feel less like they're going to explode without her heart racing.

"How did it go?" Mr. Falcon asks from the doorway as she's packing up her things.

"It went well." Her smile isn't quite full, but her words are honest. As well as it went, as ready as she is to be back tomorrow, she's tired and she wants to go home for the evening.

"They didn't scare you off?"

"They were great."

"And you'll be back tomorrow?" He seems to think she's lying. That she's going to run out the door in the same manner as the substitute, never to return.

Aubrey nods. "Yes, Sir. I appreciate this opportunity and will make the most of it." She really just wants to go home.

In her bag are several binders of information, Chloe's lesson planning book, and many papers that will need to be graded. Seeing those must cement her words in his mind because he looks at them and smiles. "In that case, we'll see you tomorrow. We appreciate you being here. I can't imagine how difficult it must be."

Please don't.

"Have a good rest of your evening. We can schedule a meeting for Friday to review the week."

"Have a good night." Aubrey releases a breath after he turns and walks away.

Her body is heavy as she picks up her bag and walks to her car. That's when the paranoia starts to sink back in – when she's alone in the front seat of her vehicle, getting ready to turn the key. This would be the perfect time to appear out of the bushes and shoot her in the head. No one here to protect her. No way to protect herself. She starts the car and inches backward out of her parking space – waiting. Nothing happens. She turns the wheel and drives to the main road.

As a distraction and to keep herself awake, she calls Chloe's mom.

"Hey, Bunny. How was it?" Julia answers after two rings.

"Are you driving?" Aubrey asks listening to cars that definitely aren't anywhere near her.

"Yeah, I'm going to pick up Dad from work."

So she's not home…

"Do you need me to pick you up too?"

"No. I'm already on the way. Is Beca home?"

"She is."

Okay. She won't be alone.

"You didn't answer my question," Julia says, "How was your day?"

"Oh. I loved it."

"I'm so happy to hear that."

Aubrey is happy to be able to say it. "It was fun." She would never be able to say that about law. Sure, law gave her a challenge and required a fair amount of knowledge to succeed – but it was boring. And no matter what she did, it to never quite felt good enough. It's not very difficult to feel good enough in a room full of six year olds. She made a child ecstatic just by teaching him to put on his own jacket.

"Good. You deserve that."

"How was your day?" Aubrey asks.

"My day…" Julia sighs. "I can't say it was particularly fun, but it was good. This new job is much easier than my old one."

The pediatric in-patient unit doesn't sound all that easy, but Aubrey will take her word for it. Her career path in general is depressing.

"Did you eat lunch?" Julia asks.

"Mhm." She neglects to say that she ate it alone in the library like a loser. Speaking of lunch though, "Could you do me a favor?"

"Sure. What do you need?"

"Could you pick up a few boxes of Nutri-Grain bars on your way home? I'd do it myself, but-"

"I got it," Julia says, "Don't worry. Do you need anything else?"

"Some children's toothpaste and some eczema cream…"

"I see what this trip is about. Okay. Anything else? Anything for you?"

"I don't need anything."

"Do you want anything?"

Aubrey glances out her side window. "Maybe something with sugar or caffeine to get me through after lunch." She can practically hear Julia smile.

"Are you asking me to pack you dessert?"

Maybe if her stomach cared about food, it would be about that. "Even just an energy drink or bottled coffee…"

"I got you. Are you awake enough to be safe driving home, Aubrey?"

"I'm almost there. There isn't much traffic right now." The cars aren't at a standstill at least. They're at a very slow crawl… Taking the subway to and from work would be faster, but she'll be damned before she ever goes into any kind of underground tunnel again.

"Well, tell me about your day. Give me details. How many students do you have? What all did you do? Did you make friends with the other teachers?"

Aubrey considers telling her she spoke to the librarian and leaving it at that, but the lies are getting tired. "I heard them talking in the break room about me taking over for Chloe. I'm not sure they fully support a massacre survivor taking over her unconscious fiancée's job as a first grade teacher."

"You are perfectly capable of doing this job. Don't pay mind to the gossip."

Aubrey should be used to gossip after college. But it's exhausting to constantly be the topic of conversation and never about anything good.

"I'm proud of you," Julia says, "I know that nothing is easy right now. But you're doing great. Chloe would be relieved to know her class is in your hands, and that matters more than what the other teachers think. Those kids are in good hands with you."

Aubrey smiles a little at her words and switches lanes to get off on her exit. "Overall it went well." Really, the other teachers were the only downside. "I have roughly a thousand papers to grade already, and Chloe left me with absolutely nothing in the way of lesson plans – but it's something to do." She needs to be occupied. For once, Chloe's inability to do things in a timely manner may actually be a good thing.

"I can help when I get home, if you want me to," Julia offers, "We can get caught up to where you should be and then you can take it from there."

"I'd like that."

"It might take me awhile to get home though, because I am sure Dad is going to try to show me every sea creature known to man. So why don't you just chill out with Beca for awhile instead of launching yourself right into post-work work. You don't wanna burn out the first week. And by 'chilling out', I do not mean working on the new house."

Julia knows her too well. "Fine. I'll see what Beca wants to do." Did those words really just leave her mouth?

"I'm sure Beca will be highly suspicious."

Probably. Aubrey breathes a laugh. "I'm almost there now. See you when you get home."

"Alright, Baby. I love you."

"I love you, too." Aubrey disconnects the call. "Hey, Siri, text Chl-" She falters. "Hey, Siri, text Beca: I'm almost home."

'Thanks for the warning', Beca texts back.

"Hey, Siri, text Chloe: I love you."

The rest of the ride is silent.

xxxxx

"Dude, how was it?" Beca asks first thing when Aubrey walks in the door. She tosses the video game controller on the coffee table and spins around on the couch so she's angled toward the front door.

"I'm going to have to answer the every person individually about this, aren't I?" Aubrey slips her does and jacket off by the door.

"Honestly, I thought you'd be a little more excited to talk about it."

The coffee table is covered in papers with various constructing company names and prices, but Beca is obviously not highly focused at the moment, so Aubrey drops her bag on top of all that. "I've been talking all day long." She flops down on the couch and stretches her legs out over Beca's lap.

"Well, so have I, and I think I've locked plans for creating a foundation in place. I didn't know if we wanted a basement or not though, so I kind of just assumed 'yes' in case of storms and also because you strike me as the kind of person to want an apocalypse bunker."

Aubrey raises a single brow.

"So you don't want a room stocked full of toilet paper and canned goods for when zombies inevitability take over the world?"

The game on the TV is paused on a horde of zombies coming after Beca's character. "How can you play that after what we went through?"

"Nobody tried to eat me there and it's not the zombies' fault. Also, I'm looking for a cure."

Aubrey turns off the TV. "Yes to the basement, toilet papers, and canned goods. No to your delusions. It's way more likely to be nuclear war."

"It's way more likely to be nuclear war," Beca mocks her under her breath, "You're lucky I just hit a save point."

"You're lucky I just hit a save point," Aubrey mocks her back.

"Shut up."

"You shut up."

Beca laughs.

"I was told I'm not" – Aubrey pauses to yawn – "supposed to do any work right now, including on the house."

"And you're going to listen?" Beca asks.

"Yes, because I hate how Mom stares at me when I don't." Honestly, it feels worse than being smacked.

"Good point. Her eyes are more judgmental than you're entire face."

Aubrey kicks her.

"Dude, ow. She is going to stare at you if I tell her you just did that."

"Go ahead, do it," Aubrey dares her and tries to kick her again, but Beca wrestles back her foot. Her father always told her 'ladies don't roughhouse' whenever she tried to play with their brothers in such a manner. 'Leave the horseplay to the boys.' "You're going to get hurt, Beca." Realistically, Beca could probably take her right now. Just about anyone could. But she has at least some trust that Beca is going to take into account that she doesn't fully have her strength back yet.

Beca stops and stares at her, and Aubrey can see the wheels turning in her head for a solid ten seconds before she leans over and tickles Aubrey's side.

It's completely by accident that Aubrey open hand smacks her, but she doesn't regret. "Don't do that."

"Why does your Fight or Flight response have to be fight?" Beca ignores her request and goes for her other side, eliciting a shriek out of her as she tries to cover both sides with her hands.

The commotion attracts Bark who rushes to the couch and puts his name to good use. He barks at Beca until she stops then climbs up onto the couch and sits between them, shielding Aubrey from her hands.

"You do know Aubrey hates you, right?" Beca asks him.

A little less now. "He doesn't know anything. He's a stupid dog." Aubrey puts her hands up to protect herself from his whip-like tail.

"He knows something is wrong with you."

"Thanks, Beca."

"You know what I mean. They both do."

Aubrey looks at Catsy who has perched himself on the back of the couch near her head and is staring at them with his tail swishing in an agitated manner.

"I'm done," Beca says to both animals and holds up her hands, "I'm leaving her alone, even though she started it."

Bark jumps off the couch and proceeds to lay directly beside it, his gaze stuck on Beca.

"Seriously, they know you're hurt," Beca insists.

"I'm not even hurt anymore." Aubrey's arm betrays her by giving out on her when she tries to prop herself up onto her elbows. "I meant to do that. I want to be laying down." She folds her arms across her chest.

"Right," Beca whispers.

"I think I'm going to go change my clothes," Aubrey says without putting in effort to actually move. The couch is comfortable, but the belt holding up her slacks is digging into her waist. It's been awhile since she has worn 'real clothes'. It makes her feel human again, but also has her appreciating a job that allows her to come home at a normal time to take them off.

Beca stands up and offers her a hand.

After some mental self-encouragement, Aubrey allows herself to be pulled upright. "I don't understand having a desk with a chair at a job that you can't sit down at anyway," she says and follows her to the bedroom.

"Are you going to start jogging again in the morning?"

Apparently Beca missed the hint that her legs are tired. "Why? You want me to wake you up at four a.m. to go with me?"

"I'd rather break both my legs." Beca trips when Aubrey walks a little faster to jam her foot between Beca's feet. She catches herself on the wall. "I'd turn around and do the same to you if I wasn't sure I'd get mauled for it." She sticks her foot out anyway, and Aubrey hops over it. "I'm letting you off the hook easy because you're still hurt."

Aubrey is not still injured. She pulls open a dresser drawer to hunt for a pair of comfortable pants.

"You want help taking your hair down?" Beca asks.

"No. I'll wait for Mom to do it."

"You know, I think you could probably do your own hair if you really tried…" Beca says with a knowing smirk.

Aubrey ignores her. She grabs a pair of pajamas then tucks a steak knife that had been hiding beneath them under another article of clothing. Beca ignores that. It's one of the many she's felt compelled to hide over the past week – including one beneath the mattress and another in the nightstand drawer. There would be one under her pillow too if she wasn't afraid of accidentally stabbing herself or Beca with it while dreaming about Luke choking her. Thus far, she's never tried to grab any objects, but the thrashing alone is enough to make it dangerous. "Change so I'm not only one in pajamas." She chucks a pair at Beca.

"Yes, Master." Beca hunches her back and carries them to the bed like Igor, causing Aubrey to roll her eyes so hard, it's a wonder they don't go far enough to face the back of her skull. "Right away, Master."

Knives still on the mind, Aubrey turns to face her as she undresses. "I'm thinking about applying for a concealed carry license."

"I figured as much. I'm worried about the toll carrying a gun might take on you."

"I'm more worried about the toll getting murdered would take."

"I can't stop you," Beca says, "It might be for the best. But if you do it, I think everybody in this house needs to know you're carrying a gun. No secrets."

"Why?" It's not as though Aubrey was actively planning not to tell them. They have a right to know if there is a gun on the premises, and she'd feel better knowing they all have access to it. She isn't only trying to keep herself safe here.

"A lot of reasons why," Beca answers.

"You think I'm going to make a bad judgement call and shoot someone at random?"

"No. I'm more worried you'll make a bad judgement call and shoot yourself if Chloe doesn't make it." Beca pulls her pajamas shirt on over her head. "Tell me it wouldn't cross your mind to try to follow her."

Aubrey can't. As terrified as she is to die right now, she can't.

"If you're carrying a gun, I don't want to be the only one prepared to take it away. I think you need to be kept safe from yourself too – at least for awhile."

As should Beca.

Aubrey finishes dressing, tosses her clothes in the hamper from several feet away, then walks back out to the living room. She used to like a quiet house. Now the silence is just unnerving – but with too much noise, she can't listen for potential threats either. She turns the TV back on and the video game background music provides a happy, albeit irritating, middle ground .

"Do you want to play?" Beca asks, "We can race instead of zombies."

"Not afraid I'll run you off the road?" Aubrey replies and drops down on the couch.

"Annoyed by the likelihood of that happening? Yes. Afraid? No." Beca tosses her the second controller. "I like playing with your mom. She runs herself off the road."

xxxxx

"I can't believe I finally found something you suck at," Beca boasts.

Julia and Noah walk in the front door before Aubrey has a chance to punch her in the arm.

"Hey, Girlies," Julia greets them.

Beca cringes at the pet name. "What?" she whispers when Aubrey rolls her eyes, "I have a penis now."

Aubrey slams her elbow into Beca's side.

"Having fun?" Julia asks.

"I know I am," Beca replies.

"I thought we could do some food from the aquarium restaurant tonight," Noah says and hauls a few plastic bags full of paper food boxes to the to the coffee table, "The boys aren't home yet?"

"Pretty sure Conrad is downstairs," Beca answers and turns off the TV.

"I'll go get him," Julia offers.

There is an urge to tell her not to. Still that sinking knowledge that anything could happen the moment she walks out the front door. Aubrey lowers herself to the floor between the couch and coffee table to better reach the food and tries not to think.

Beca clears off the table to make room then sits down beside her. "I'm not saying I only ate crappy, cheap food before moving here, but I'm not not saying that either."

There is quite a wide range of entrées and sides for them to pick and choose from. It feels like a coffee table buffet. It will never not be weird that Chloe's family doesn't always eat at the kitchen table. Aubrey picks and chooses the foods she knows she likes – things that would have been mouth-watering once upon a time.

"Everything look good?" Noah asks.

"Looks great." Aubrey flashes what she hopes is a sincere looking smile in his direction. "Thank you for bringing this home."

"What Aubrey said," Beca agrees and eyes her options, "Is this onion rings or calamari?"

"It's from am aquarium," Aubrey reminds her.

"I don't know if they eat the fish or not," Beca replies.

"Calamari," Noah answers her question.

"See how not hard that was?"

"The correct word for that is 'easy'."

"The correct word for that is 'easy'," Beca mumbles under her breath before eating a spoonful of potatoes, "You know you can use your other hand now, right?"

Aubrey looks at her arm resting limply next to her side while she manages serving herself with only one. As grateful as she is to have it back, it's difficult to remember something she can't feel. "I don't need it right now." The containers slide a little without a second hand to hold them still, but they remain upright and on the table, so….

The door flies open. "What's seafood after you eat it?" Conrad asks. When silence follows, he answers himself, "Sawfood, you guys."

Aubrey doesn't need words when the expression on her face is clear enough that that is the stupidest joke she has ever heard.

"What's the opposite of seafood?" Conrad tries again, "Blindfood. Tough crowd tonight."

"I think your jokes just suck," Beca replies.

"Perfect humor for an octopus." Conrad joins them on the floor with Julia close behind after she locks the door.

Brian flings open to front door a fraction of a second after Aubrey registers it being unlocked again, making her and Beca jump and the rest of them turn around to look at him. It's starting to make Aubrey wonder how they don't have a hole in the wall behind the doorknob with the way these people open doors. "I've got good news and weird news," he announces and throws his jacket at the back of the chair.

"Oh, weird news first," Conrad insists, "That must be for me."

Brian shuts the door behind him and relocks it. "Actually, they're both for Aubrey."

Good news and 'weird' news has to at least be better than good news and bad news, right? "What happened?"

"James Posen Junior has officially been charged with obstruction of justice," Brian announces with pride.

"Is that the good news or the weird news?" Aubrey asks. It's a bit difficult to tell.

"The good news. He tried to go on the lam, and that's where the weird news comes in. He was turned in by James Posen Senior."

"I'm sorry." Aubrey definitely did not hear him right. "What did you just say?"

"I said your brother is going to jail because dear ol' daddy gave him up."