- Part 1 -

Arrhythmia

I'm slipping into the deep end.
I'm in over my head,
And I can't catch my breath.
- Ruelle

Aubrey regretted it the moment she dialed the number and the phone started to ring.

"Hey, Bunny."

Aubrey couldn't bring herself to say 'hello'. She couldn't bring herself to say anything.

"Aubrey?" Mrs. Beale asked. "You okay?"

Aubrey pressed her lips tightly together and stared at her bedroom wall through blurred vision. The only audible response she gave was a sniffle that she didn't mean to be so loud.

Mrs. Beale was silent for a moment. "Okay, Honey," she cooed, "Tell me what's wrong."

There was an annoying pulsating feeling behind her eyes, and Aubrey lowered her forehead down against her knees. She wiped her face with her free hand then slid her arm around her stomach and tried to pull her legs in even closer to her body.

"Do you want to talk about something else?" Mrs. Beale asked her, "Do you want to talk to Dad?"

There was that feeling again – that anchor in her stomach that had 'you're not my parents' carved deep into its metal. Aubrey tried to pull herself together. "No." Talking to Chloe's dad would just make this even more awkward. But she couldn't exactly talk to Chloe's mom either. What the hell was she supposed to say? Your daughter wants to have sex with someone that isn't me? She definitely couldn't talk to her own parents about it. She couldn't even talk to Chloe, because Chloe was always trapped in another world whenever it came to Beca. At least she and Beca were on the same page, but, then again, Beca had kissed her, so maybe not.

Things became quiet again for a few seconds. "Are you fighting with Chloe?"

'Fight' felt like such a strange word for it. This battle over Beca had been going on for so long, it was more like a war at this point.

"Who is on the phone?" Mr. Beale asked in the background.

"One of our children," Mrs. Beale answered, "Why are you in this kitchen?"

"You gonna tell me which of the three it is?" He asked. They spoke so casually that it seemed like they were speaking about Chloe or Daniel – not Aubrey.

"No," Mrs. Beale answered him, "Get your damn hands out of that pan; those are for lunch."

"Is it Aubrey?" Mr. Beale asked.

"Noah," Mrs. Beale scolded him, "Get out of my kitchen."

"It is, isn't it?" he asked, "You can't hog the one that cares about my stories. Hi, Aubrey!"

"It's not Aubrey; it's Daniel," Mrs. Beale lied smoothly.

"Oh."

"If you want lunch, leave," Mrs. Beale said.

"Fine. Hi, Daniel!" he called, his voice getting quieter as he got farther away.

Mrs. Beale cleared her throat. "It's just like having another child," she mumbled. There was some clattering in the background and then silence. "I can't help you if you don't talk to me, Bunny. You know you can tell me anything, right? I mean it, anything."

Maybe Aubrey knew that. But she still couldn't say it.

xxxxx

"Get up, we're leaving," the deputy says, peering over the counter at them.

Aubrey doesn't know how much time has passed as she sits there staring numbly at her sandwich. She looks up before Chloe or Beca does and realizes that none of them have actually eaten. She reminds herself she needs to get something in her stomach and takes another bite of the dry sandwich as she stands up.

"Leaving where?" Beca asks and gets to her feet.

"Back to the lobby," Luke answers.

Aubrey looks down when Chloe doesn't stand up with them. She's staring past her sandwich at her lap, completely absent.

"Chlo," Beca calls to her.

Chloe blinks a few times then looks around before finally looking up at Beca.

"We're going back to the lobby," Beca says.

Chloe nods silently and slowly gets to her feet.

Aubrey takes a final bite of her sandwich then tosses the rest of it in the trash, and Chloe follows suit, throwing her own away before Aubrey can close the trashcan lid and tell her to finish it.

"I'm fine," Chloe says before Aubrey can say anything. That's ridiculous, because none of them are fine – or even close to it. She slides her hands into her back pockets and looks downward at the floor. "What?" she asks irritably as Aubrey stares at her.

Aubrey doesn't say anything. The moment Beca throws away the rest of her sandwich as well, Aubrey lets the trashcan lid close and starts walking toward the door. She keeps her distance from everyone else, studying them closely from behind – looking for anything that might be considered suspicious. The problem is, she doesn't really know what would be considered suspicious when they're all in a state of panic. Her hands rub together, brushing away invisible crumbs, until she needs to grab the door from the person in front of her. She holds it open for Beca and Chloe.

"Thanks," Beca mutters, stepping through the doorway, and Chloe quickly looks back like she's guilty she forgot to say anything. "Now what?" she whispers.

Aubrey allows the kitchen door to swing closed, vague memories of Beca walking in on her licking icing from Chloe's skin distracting her from the question. She can still taste the vanilla on her tongue. She looks at Beca and raises her eyebrows, not entirely sure what she's supposed to be answering.

"We can't just follow this guy around all day," Beca whispers, "Eventually, we have to get rid of him."

Aubrey looks at Barneys back. "You mean, like, shoot him?" she asks and gives Beca a disapproving frown.

"Not what I was suggesting," Beca says and frowns back at her.

"Then what do you suggest we do?" Aubrey asks, because she has no damn idea. They can't run. He'll shoot them. They could probably outsmart him, but she's too tired to think.

"I don't know," Beca answers, "You're in charge here."

Eventually, he's going to need to use the restroom. Eventually, they're all going to have to go to the bathroom. She wants to hope there will be a moment to flee, and that he won't round them all up into the room together. If anything, he also has to sleep at some point. But Beca is right; all day is a long time to do nothing when Sophia is missing and they need to find a way back to Seattle. She wants to turn back time to when she and Chloe were in the kitchen – right before Beca and Jesse ruined everything.

"Are you paying attention?" Beca asks.

Aubrey nods.

"Hey!" Barney snaps at them, "Pick up the pace!"

Aubrey didn't realize they were falling behind. She walks faster, keeping her eyes forward as they pass the dining room. At least Beca's dad is no longer in the hall. He's probably on a stretcher in the back of Campbell's car since she can't imagine there had been enough time to transport him to the clinic. Trapped in her thoughts, she nearly falls over Chloe, who has stopped to look in the room where bodies are still scattered across the blood stained floor. She gives her a light push on the shoulders to get her moving again.

"Ow, Aubrey." Chloe rubs one of her shoulders. She's being dramatic; Aubrey didn't push her that hard.

"Is she bothering you?" Barney asks and looks back at them.

Chloe quickly shakes her head and drops her hand away from her shoulder. "No." Her back presses into Aubrey's front as they continue to move forward, making it difficult to walk.

"Seriously, Aubrey, we have to do something," Beca whispers.

"I know that, Beca," Aubrey hisses, her nostrils flaring in frustration, "I just don't know what you want me to do."

Beca groans.

"Guys, shut up," Chloe whispers at them, "Everyone is going to hear you."

"Tell that to Beca," Aubrey snaps.

Chloe turns to Beca. "Beca, shut up."

Both Beca and Aubrey stop talking at that.

"You're going to get us shot," Chloe says, a slight tremble in her voice – and it reminds Aubrey that not that long ago, Chloe had bullets flying in her direction. That would be enough to silence almost anyone into compliancy. "Let's just all think inside our own heads right now."

"Yeah, okay," Beca cuts off the conversation, "I got it."

xxxxx

Aubrey tried to think of an excuse about why she called. She considered even pretending she was drunk and rambling on about dinosaurs again.

"I'm making lunch," Mrs. Beale said, cheerfully, like it was an exciting task, "So we can just keep each other company."

That sounded okay, not that Aubrey had much to keep her company with.

"You know, Dad wants to go deep sea fishing," Mrs. Beale continued on talking, "So, I was thinking that this summer you two could do that while Chloe and I take the day and do something actually enjoyable, on land."

Aubrey shifted so she was lying down on her side and absently picked at her comforter as Chloe's mom rambled on about fishing and which New Jersey beaches had the best rated boardwalks for her and Chloe to roam. Maybe she and Chloe wouldn't even be together then. Maybe it would be Chloe and Beca. Did Beca enjoy fishing as much as Aubrey? Maybe she was better at it than Aubrey – just like she seemed to somehow be better at everything else that was somehow related to Chloe. She sniffled again. She screwed herself even further by leaving Chloe at Wendy's.

"Mom?"

Mrs. Beale stopped talking mid-sentence.

Aubrey wasn't sure what she was trying to ask. Do I like Chloe too much? Am I holding her back? Am I too possessive? Are my feelings not normal? What the hell is normal? Did your husband ever want you to hook up with someone else? Did you ever want that? "Um…" She sat up again, her stomach churning.

"Can you tell me what you're upset about?" Mrs. Beale asked, "Just give me a general topic."

Aubrey swallowed hard. "Beca," she whispered. That part was easy. She realized her hands were shaking and she gripped her phone hard enough that she thought she might accidentally break it as she said the next piece to the puzzle, "And," she really thought she was going to throw up all over the bed, "Sex." The only reason she didn't hang up right there and then was because she was frozen.

"Well," Mrs. Beale said, unphased, "You can always talk to me about Beca and you can always talk to me about sex, and I am a smart enough woman to know that directly between the two of those things is my lovely daughter. So, talk to me."

Sometimes Aubrey forgot how well Chloe's parents knew Chloe, because it felt like Aubrey's parents didn't know her at all. How was she supposed to talk to Chloe's mom about Chloe and sex – together, no less? She felt like she was telling on Chloe – far beyond hers and Chloe's teasing with Chloe's parents. Or like she was sharing some deep dark secret that was supposed to belong solely to Chloe but had been entrusted to her. It felt terrible. It also felt humiliating. Because, maybe the problem was Aubrey just wasn't good at sex? Maybe. Maybe, again, somehow Beca was better, and Chloe knew it.

Or maybe Mrs. Beale had been right during their first conversation about Beca. Maybe Chloe was just figuring herself out – and, for some reason, that involved experimenting with Beca. She had invited Aubrey to do it with them, after all. She wasn't just asking permission, or, worse, doing it without. Aubrey hated herself for even trying to look at it with some positivity. But after everything went down with The Bellas, she was really trying. Trying with everything.

"It's okay," Mrs. Beale filled the silence, "Take your time."

Aubrey was just going to have to be out with it. The whole situation on the phone was like jumping off a zip line – the longer she thought about it, the more she considered climbing back down the ladder. She was already at the top of the tower. "Chloe wants us to hook up with Beca." There. She said it, words rushed, but clear as day. Now she wished she had the guts to hang up.

xxxxx

Everyone takes their original positions back in the lobby area. Except not really. No one goes back to playing Monopoly, and neither Chloe nor Beca seem all that interested in sleep anymore. Instead, they all just sit and stare silently – at the floor, at the walls, at each other – everyone presumably waiting for someone else to be the person to speak up. It's supposed to be Aubrey that speaks. She is the one in charge, after all. But she can barely think right now. She sits down on the edge of the couch and stares at her hands, trying to develop a plan.

Chloe sits down next to her and taps her fingers on her knee. She's quiet for a moment too before she leans over with her lips close to Aubrey's ear. "I have an idea," she whispers then leans back.

Aubrey looks up and waits for her to elaborate.

Chloe just winks at her then stands up.

Aubrey isn't quite sure what settles over her more – confusion or fear of being left in the dark. By the time she thinks to grab Chloe's hand or call her back for an explanation, it's too late. Chloe is already walking toward the deputy. She looks at Beca, who looks back at her equally alert, then at Chloe again.

"Hey," Chloe stops a foot or two away from Barney and rocks back on her heels, stuffing her hands into her back pockets. She rolls her shoulders then casually tilts her head to the side and waits to be acknowledged.

Barney looks up – even more perplexed than Aubrey and Beca put together. But by then, most of Aubrey's confusion and concern has faded away, because if anyone can talk their way out of this, it's Chloe. "Well, howdy," he says in his best imitation of a southern accent, "How can I help you?"

Chloe sniffles quietly and looks at the ground. "I was just thinking," she says, keeping her voice low, before looking up at him, "You could be a hero, you know? But you're not." Her posture remains completely non-threatening, her voice non-accusing despite her words. She leans forward, closer to him. "But can you imagine, like, if you were?"

Barney doesn't say anything. He looks like he doesn't know what to say.

"Look, I know what the sheriff said," Chloe continues, "But we all have the same endgame here. We just want to find Sophia and make it to Seattle alive. You could help us do that. Can you imagine if you found the kid we're looking for? You'd be all over the news. They'd probably even reward you a lot of money."

Yes, Chloe. Aubrey holds back a smirk and pretends to be overly interested in her fingernails.

"You could get promoted," Chloe sweetens the deal, "Don't you want to be the sheriff?"

Barney is silent for a moment. "We already have a sheriff," he reminds her.

"Not if you save us while he tried to keep us all locked up here in danger," Chloe says, "He'll lose his job. They'll have to replace him with someone – and who better than you?"

"How do I know you're not just trying to run away?" He asks.

"Why would we do that when all we want is to find a boat?" Chloe asks, "You know this island better than any of us and can help us find a way to Seattle. We don't know anything here. Trying to go out there on our own…" She pauses. "We would die out there."

"Sit down," Barney demands, suddenly angry.

"Don't you want to be hailed a hero?" Chloe asks, "Why don't you want to help us? Are you scared?"

"I said to sit the fuck down." Barney slides his gun out of his holster a deep waves it between Chloe and the couch.

"Don't point that at me," Chloe whispers and takes a few steps back.

Barney points it directly at her.

"Dude, what the hell?!" Beca explodes and suddenly both she and Aubrey are on their feet. "Is that necessary? She's just trying to help your sorry ass."

"You're a shit excuse for a person," Aubrey informs him, just wanting the gun pointed somewhere away from Chloe, even if it means having it pointed at herself.

If people weren't paying attention before, they are now. Even Jesse gets to his feet and holds out a hand in a non-threatening manner. "Come on, Man," he says, "You don't have to point a gun at her. You're freaking people out with that thing."

Chloe looks frozen, staring straight down the barrel of it.

"Look, she's like the least threatening person here," Jesse says calmly and talks a few steps forward, "Just put the gun down and let's figure out how to find a boat."

Beca steps forward and looks around Aubrey, staring at Jesse like she's in shock. She looks at Barney.

Aubrey's hand slides around to the back of her pants and curves around the handle of her gun. Any logical reservations she had about shooting him for their safety fade away. She's about to warn him one last time to get his gun the hell away from Chloe when he lowers it on his own and tucks it back into his holster. Her hand remains firmly where it's at on her weapon.

Chloe swallows thickly and slides her hands out of her pockets, wrapping her arms tightly around her midsection. "You'd rather use idle threats to make yourself look brave than save a little girl," she points out, and Aubrey can hear the fear behind the confidence, "You're a coward." She retreats back to the couch and sits down between where Aubrey and Beca are standing. "You could save all of us, but, instead, you're too afraid."