Guest: So, you think it's Chloe?
Andiclauds: Fortunately, it's time to start to put some of those insecurities to rest.
Trixxalexx: Thank you so much!
Pixie1913: Those flashbacks are so bittersweet to write.
RJRMoviefan: I guess you'll just have to find out.
SunDanceQT: Yes. That.
Vickstik: I'm addicted to writing it, so, I understand. Thank you.
Malexfaith: Thank you!
Guest: The photos came from her Instagram.
96itadakimasu96: Anyone who had access to her Instagram had access to her photos.
A/N: I think it's official. This is the point I start crying my way through writing every chapter from here on out.
Arrhythmia
I don't want to,
Won't let myself,
I have to realize,
This might be,
This could be,
This is goodbye.
-Ke$ha
"Aubrey, please open the door." There is another soft knock – one more indicator that Aubrey has been in there far too long, and every minute she waits is one more that's going to make it even more difficult to leave. No benefit comes from thinking she can hide out in the bathroom forever. Privacy is a luxury reserved for those in Seattle, having their late season picnics, looking out over the water in blissful oblivion. Next week, they'll pick up a newspaper, and talk about the headline to everyone they know with exaggerated discomfort about how close in proximity they were to the latest Jack the Ripper.
She flushes the toilet even though she hasn't used it, then turns on the sink and scrubs her hands clean. The mirror above the faucet tells her too much about how exhausted she looks – nearly as much as she feels. She does a double take at her reflection, as though she might look up and the dark circles beneath her eyes will quit betraying her and leave, then focuses harder on the soap bubbles swirling around the drain until those are gone instead. Another knock. Aubrey grabs a paper towel and dries her hands then turns off the water. The damp paper towel draws her attention back to the shredded photo in the trash as she tosses it on top, and she's frozen until Chloe calls her name again. She's being pathetic.
"This might be an old building," Aubrey starts speaking before she even gets the door unlocked and open, "But it still may have a generator." She steps through the doorway, straight into Chloe, who steps backward, but remains in front of her, effectively slowing her down. It doesn't occur to her that her hand has traveled back to rest between her chest and stomach until Chloe is moving it to rest her own hand there instead. She tries to step around Chloe and strains to look into the lobby to make sure everyone is there, but Chloe stops moving completely and blocks her.
"Let's just stop and breathe," Chloe directs her.
Aubrey shakes her head. "We don't have time to stop and breathe." She doesn't even know what time it is.
"We don't have time to stop and breathe, or you can't breathe?" Chloe asks.
Aubrey glances at her as if to say 'clearly, I'm breathing right now'. Leave it to Beca to snitch on her.
"Breathe through your nose," Chloe instructs.
"Chl-"
"Through your nose," Chloe says again calmly then demonstrates.
"I know how to breathe through my nose, Chloe," Aubrey informs her. It just hurts less to keep taking shallow breaths through her mouth.
"Okay, then do it."
Aubrey clamps her mouth shut and takes a fifth of a breath through her nose – then releases it through her mouth.
"Again."
Aubrey sees what she's doing. Chloe is trying to wear her down until she admits on her own that she's in pain. She looks toward the lobby again as she tries to push away Chloe's hand – searching for the strength to go head to head with her. But there isn't any point in it. Her potential last moments aren't going to be spent arguing with Chloe. And Chloe doesn't seem close to budging. She shakes her head again. "I can't," she concedes, "Okay? Every time I breathe, it feels like there's a knife going right through my chest." Happy? They need to leave the hallway and be back in the main room with Beca and everybody else.
"Is this like panic attack pain or if we weren't here right now, I should be calling an ambulance pain?" Chloe asks.
Aubrey only processes a part of that question and shakes her head – trying to look around the corner into the lobby again.
"Aubrey, focus."
Aubrey is focused. She's focused on the fact that another one of them is gone, and she needs to keep track of the rest of them until nightfall. And when it gets dark, they're going to need flashlights, especially if they plan to leave. It also takes an incredible amount of self-discipline and focus to be outright ignoring the vulnerable position she's in right now – in front of Chloe and the rest of them. She nearly buckles as Chloe accidentally places too much pressure on her chest with her fingers.
"Okay. You probably just strained a muscle when you were throwing up or earlier when…" Chloe doesn't finish her sentence. She doesn't have to. Aubrey knows she's talking about when she helped Cynthia-Rose drag the man away from the door. "And with all of this on top of that…"
Great. Aubrey can add this to her list of injuries. Chloe finally moves her hand, and Aubrey places her own hand on her chest again.
"I put some Aleve in our bags," Chloe says, "That might help."
Aubrey nods. It'll also get her out of this hallway and somewhere where she can be useful again. She leads and Chloe follows – her hand on Aubrey's lower back.
xxxxx
There were twelve hours until Beca Mitchell left her apartment. Twelve hours until everything was back to normal. Twelve hours until Aubrey was left with no easy access to answers to her questions – like why had Beca kissed her again? Only twelve hours. Too long. Not long enough. Why couldn't things just be left how they were before? Sophomore year. Junior year (prior to PukeGate). It had just been her and Chloe and a cheesy love story that Aubrey had never imagined herself being part of. Beca might as well have not existed in the world at all.
"I didn't know you bite your nails," Beca said from the balcony door.
Aubrey quickly lowered her hand from her mouth and tucked her thumb into her fist, like that could hide that she had been chewing on her skin. "I don't bite my nails."
"I'm surprised with your whole germ thing."
"I don't have a germ thing," Aubrey argued, "Get off my balcony."
"It's Chloe's balcony too," Beca said.
"It's my balcony," Aubrey replied.
"Why do you get your own room and a balcony?" Beca asked.
"I don't know. Maybe, because Chloe doesn't like heights, so she doesn't enjoy being on the balcony, therefore making it my balcony." Aubrey turned to face her.
"I'm not even on the balcony." Beca was hovering in the doorway – balancing over the edge.
"Your toes are on my balcony."
"It's not just your balcony."
"This is my stuff out here, and I pay the rent."
"But -"
Aubrey closed the distance between then and drew herself to full height to tower over her. "I've already moved you once this week."
"That time went really well," Beca whispered sarcastically.
"You just had to come along and make everything…different, didn't you?" Aubrey asked.
"I didn't actually touch anything on the balcony," Beca replied.
"You don't get it, do you?"
Beca blinked. "Are we still fighting about the balcony?"
Aubrey had a lot of questions. Like why was the urge to repeat last time so overpowering even though all she wanted was for Beca to leave? And she only had twelve hours to figure it out. "You ruined everything." She had to make sure Beca knew that before she grabbed her by the shoulders and crashed their mouths together.
xxxxx
They sit on the floor between the couch and the coffee table to dig through their bags – hidden from sight as everyone mills restlessly around the lobby. Aubrey digs out the Aleve. And the Emetrol. And the Xanax. Then downs them one at a time with a cup of water. "I don't know what I did," she whispers, "To instigate all of this." She looks at Chloe, because she needs an answer.
"You couldn't have done anything to warrant this," Chloe tells her. It's the kind of answer Aubrey needs to hear, but it isn't one that makes sense. "You deserve only good things." She leans forward over their bags and pecks Aubrey's lips.
Aubrey looks down and uses the coffee table to slowly pushes herself back up to her feet. "We should see if there's a generator."
"Okay." Chloe struggles just as much to get back up and join her.
"Beca." Aubrey locates her across the room with Fat Amy and Lilly. "Let's go. Everyone else, keep looking for flashlights."
"Where are you going?" Jesse asks.
Aubrey doesn't care that the question is direction at Beca; she answers it anyway. "To turn on the lights."
xxxxx
"Dude, Aubrey." Beca was confused, which made Aubrey confused. "What are you doing?"
"What am I doing?" Aubrey placed her hand on her chest. Beca was pissing her off. Beca was beyond pissing her off. What was she doing? No, it didn't matter what she was doing; what was Beca doing? "What kind of game are you trying to play?"
"Trivial Pursuit?" Beca looked at her like she was supposed to laugh.
Aubrey tilted her head.
"I thought your brain would conjure up the dictionary definitions – I don't know!" Beca cut herself off, "The nervous kind?"
"Oh." Okay, that made a little sense. Only Aubrey didn't want it to make sense. Not that she wanted to be confused either. But she was still confused. Even if that made sense. "What?"
"Kissing you," Beca said too seriously, "Is like putting fire out with my mouth. Ew. That was really lame. Gross. I don't -." She groaned instead of finishing her sentence.
Aubrey kissed her again just so she didn't have to listen to her talk anymore. She realized too late that just putting her hand over Beca's mouth or picking her up and chucking her over the balcony ledge would have had the same outcome. She pulled back, slightly breathless. "My father always said that 'you can't put out fire with fire' is a stupid analogy," she said, "What you should really be doing is making sure your bucket of water isn't actually a bucket of gasoline."
"Mine just told me to stop playing with matches," Beca said.
xxxxx
"Do you think Stacie could have found the dumbwaiter before she left?" Beca asks as soon as they're outside.
"It looks like she just ran out the door," Chloe says.
"We should have asked." Aubrey sighs. "We'll ask when we go back inside."
"Guys, it looks like it's going to rain," Chloe says.
Aubrey looks up at the sky. Thick dark clouds are cramming into each other to create one as they drift across the sky.
"That's not good," Beca states, "Hey, what are we looking for out here?"
"A generator." Aubrey walks around the building. "Just look for a big metal thing."
"Like that big metal thing?" Beca asks.
Aubrey looks up. "No, Beca, not like a lamppost."
Chloe exhales a laugh.
Aubrey frowns.
"I was kidding!" Beca exclaims. "I made Chloe laugh. You know I was kidding, right?"
Of course Aubrey knows she was kidding. She isn't stupid. (Meaning Aubrey isn't stupid. Beca's intelligence is questionable.) She also knows a chance to push Beca's buttons when she sees one. "It does make light." She places her hands on her chest. "Good job, Beca."
"I know what a generator looks like," Beca mumbles.
Aubrey gives her a 'knowing' smile and nods her head. "Just like with the dumbwaiter."
xxxxx
For some reason, kissing Beca didn't feel wrong in the way of Chloe. Not like it would have if Aubrey had kissed someone else. Anyone else, and she would have dragged her own cheating ass right out the door to the trash. Kissing Beca was different. It was something to share with Chloe – even if she did not want to share Chloe with Beca. But how did that work? It didn't. And it would be wrong to kiss Beca without ever sharing that with Chloe. Shit.
xxxxx
"There," Aubrey says, noticing the generator a few yards out from the side of the building. It looks new. The metal is shiny. There are no signs of rust. It almost seems promising.
"Tell me you know how to work that thing," Beca says.
Aubrey nods as they approach it. Okay – so maybe she has never used one exactly like this, but they all have to be similar, right? She takes a moment to study it then slowly begins to go through the motions, taking herself through the steps of operating a generator in her head. Make sure the circuit breaker is initially turned off. Turn the fuel valve on. She pauses and frowns when she notices Chloe and Beca are both staring at her weird – kind of like they both want to jump her. Only, no. "What?"
"Nothing," Beca says quickly.
Chloe just shrugs.
Aubrey shakes her head and sets back to work. "Okay," she says to herself as grabs the recoil cord, "And the good Lord said…" She gives it a good pull.
"Nothing," Beca fills the disappointing stillness, "Because God isn't real."
Aubrey yanks it again.
The machine whirrs and sputters for all of five seconds. Just long enough for Aubrey to think it's going to work. The generator pops like the backfiring of a car and sends a shower of sparks in their direction.
They all shriek. Aubrey stumbles back until she crashes into them, and Chloe grabs her. Her heart pounds against her ribcage like it's trying to break free. She checks her hands to make sure they aren't burned then numbly turns her body around in Chloe's arms, only succumbing to fear and disappointment once her face is tucked securely against Chloe's shoulder. It wasn't rigged to kill her, she realizes too slowly, only rigged to not work.
Chloe's fingers slide into Aubrey's hair. "I think you pissed off God," she says to Beca.
xxxxx
Aubrey dragged a bewildered Beca into Chloe's bedroom and flipped on the lights. "I have rules," she announced and swept the blanket off Chloe in one fluid movement, "Rule One: It's a one-time deal. Meaning you never bring it up again."
Chloe slowly pushed herself into a sitting position, looking completely flustered. She'd catch on.
"Rule Two," Aubrey continued, "No one ever speaks of this to anyone else."
Chloe stared.
"And Rule Three: Beca doesn't get to make you orgasm. Not that she could."
"Excuse me?" Beca responded.
Chloe looked like she wanted to say something, but she hadn't fully processed what was being said to her yet. Her gaze shifted from Aubrey to Beca and then back to Aubrey again.
"Do you want to have sex or not?" Aubrey asked.
"Right now?" Chloe asked, her eyes growing wide.
Shit, they were actually going to do this. Shit. Shit. Shit. "No, Chloe, after she leaves. I thought we could sneak into her carryon and join the Mile High Club."
Beca was smirking at Chloe, and Aubrey already felt a twinge of jealousy. Because Chloe was adorable sitting there all frazzled and in shock. She didn't want Beca to see the Chloe that only she got to see – confused, still partially asleep, hair every which way. Anyone who saw that Chloe would most definitely fall in love with her.
xxxxx
"Aubs, you good?" Beca asks.
Aubrey quickly pulls away from Chloe and nods her head. "Mhm." She stuffs her hands awkwardly into the back pockets of her jeans, then takes one out again to subtly wipe beneath her eyes. "What do we do?" The question isn't about the lights. Sure, they have a plan to run and hide when it gets dark, but it isn't a solution. They're navigating blind, and someone is always one step ahead.
"What the fuck do we do," Beca parrots back.
xxxxx
Things may have not felt wrong in the way of Chloe, but they did feel wrong in general. Aubrey didn't know if she wanted this. No, she definitely didn't want this. She didn't want it. She didn't want the burning feeling Beca left on her lips – or to know what Beca's hands felt like on her bare skin. She could not want that. Curiosity killed the cat. But satisfaction brought it back. Shut up, Aubrey. There was no satisfaction in Chloe falling for Beca.
"Could you excuse us for a second?" Chloe asked Beca.
"Uh, yeah," Beca said and took one step back toward the door, "Yes."
Aubrey watched her go and shut the door behind her. That wasn't supposed to happen. The ceiling light turned into a spotlight that left her vulnerable in the middle of Chloe's room. "What the hell, Chloe?"
"What the hell, Chloe?" Chloe asked. She slowly maneuvered herself to sit crisscross and rubbed her face before patting the space beside her.
"This is what you wanted," Aubrey reminded her, refusing to sit down. Her entire body felt jittery and she had to stand stiffly to keep completely still. She felt like a rocket during its countdown. It didn't make sense. Chloe had asked her for this. She pressed her lips together, unsure if she was about to explode and shoot straight through the roof or just puke. She didn't just drag Beca into Chloe's bedroom and ask for sex, only to be turned down and humiliated in front of them both. "So, yes, what the hell, Chloe?"
"Aubrey, you're coming off as really aggressive right now," Chloe said, "Sit down."
Aubrey arched her brows – challenging her.
"I thought we would at least talk about it first." It was then that Aubrey could see Chloe was amused by this. "We can still have sex. Just come here."
Aubrey bounced on the balls of her feet before storming over to the bed. "Since when are you talk first, sex later?" she demanded to know.
Chloe grabbed her by the arms and pulled her into the bed next to her. She situated them both side by side with Aubrey's back against the wall and Chloe facing her. Her arms went around Aubrey's torso and she leaned forward on her knees with enough pressure to nearly tip Aubrey over. "Since the sex involves someone else other than you," she murmured warmly in her ear.
xxxxx
"Are you guys realizing we could be seconds away from dying?" Beca breaks their silence.
"Don't," Chloe warns her, "We aren't going to die. We're not going to die."
Aubrey doesn't break eye contact with the grass. She's back to thinking about what Beca said earlier – about starting over. What's the likelihood they'll ever see how that turns out? Five years from now, they might all be bodies never found. If that's the case, she hopes that she and Chloe die together. Even if there is nothing after life, she can't handle the thought of spending eternity not next to her.
"I'm just saying that I'm scared," Beca admits.
Chloe wraps her in a hug from the side and doesn't let go. She rests her forehead against the side of Beca's head and holds on for dear life.
"You know what? It's fine," Beca says, "My dad is just dead, and we're all running for our fucking lives, but it's all going to be super fine."
For a moment, Aubrey is about to go off on Beca for trying to take Chloe's optimism from her in a time like this, but when she looks up, Beca's face is hidden behind her hands, and she realizes that Beca is talking to herself.
"It's all just going to be fine," Beca keeps going, her voice cracking.
Chloe doesn't say anything.
Aubrey doesn't know what to do. She hesitates then approaches with caution, half expecting Beca to punch her the moment she lightly rests her hand on Beca's shoulder. But Beca doesn't hit her. She doesn't move at all. That wanting to crawl out of her skin upon seeing Beca cry feeling comes back, but this time she can push through it. She places her other hand on Beca's back and stares off at the inn. They could run now, but all of her stuff is inside. She absently rubs her hand up and down the length of Beca's back, and keeps trying to think. Think, Aubrey, think. Think. Think. Think. Think. Start tying up your loose ends, Aubrey. The thought startles her. She doesn't want to accept it, but she's scared not to. Because of Chloe.
Chloe is crying too. Not out loud. Just tear after tear leaking from her closed eyes, gathering at her chin, landing on Beca's shoulder. It tears Aubrey apart from the inside out.
Start tying up your loose ends.
"I think it's time we talk," Aubrey suggests and takes her hands off Beca, "All three of us." She has to be careful for Chloe. She doesn't want her to know that she's starting to prepare to die. "If we can't figure out what to do right now, at least we can fix this."