A/N: Thank you all for your support. I have come to a decision that I am happy with, and that I think is fair for myself, you guys, and the characters. But I am going to keep that decision to myself, because, in the end, this story isn't really about a ship. It's about Aubrey. And if you're reading specifically for a ship, I think you have the wrong story. And, on that note, no, I do not plan to kill or cheat Beca. She is an integral piece of this story. And, while I understand some of your opinions to an extent - I have spent a lot of time developing this story and Aubrey - enough time to know what she needs in order to grow as a character, and that is part of the reason I have needed to tweak some things. She has taken on a life of her own in this story, and she just isn't leading me down the path I originally laid out for her - and I trust where her character is leading me more than trying to force things to be exactly as I intended seven years ago.
Arrhythmia
I don't want to know who we are without each other;
It's just too hard.
I don't want to leave here without you.
I don't want to lose part of me.
Will I recover that broken piece?
- Ruelle
Chloe slowly turns and lifts her arm against the tree, resting her forehead against it. She takes deep breaths, in and out her mouth, her back rising and falling against Aubrey's hand as she rubs it.
"Chlo, you okay?" Beca asks tentatively.
Chloe nods.
Aubrey gently moves her hair out of the way to check her head. Everything is sticky with blood, and it's hard to tell how deep the cut is. The bruising is getting worse – extending from somewhere above her hairline down to almost her cheekbone, from behind her eye to in front of her ear. She really must have been fighting, and they probably let go of her. She wipes the blood off her fingers, onto her jeans, as best as she can.
"Is it bad?" Beca asks.
"No," Aubrey replies, and nods her head yes.
Chloe pushes herself away from the tree, and grabs Aubrey to keep herself upright. "I can keep going," she says, wiping away tears with her free hand, smearing blood.
Aubrey helps her, wiping away blood with the sleeve of her sweatshirt.
"It's in my eyes." Chloe tries wiping it away with her wrist.
Aubrey takes her shoulders and turns her around, her back to the tree so she won't fall. This is the first time she's felt fortunate to be wearing drenched clothes, because they're a lot easier to wipe blood away with than dry ones. She pulls both her sleeves down over her hands, and does her best to wipe away the majority of the blood covering Chloe's face – then goes over it again with the damp shirt that Chloe is supposed to be holding against her head. "Better?"
Chloe nods and opens her eyes, looking at Aubrey.
"We've made it this far." Aubrey can't think of anything else comforting to say. "We just have to make it a little longer."
Chloe draws her into a hug, peeking out from Aubrey's shoulder in Beca's direction.
Aubrey pulls back after a few moments and cups her face. "I love you."
Chloe places her hands over Aubrey's and turns her head to lock eyes with her. "I'm going to marry the fuck out of you."
Well, that's one way to say she loves Aubrey too.
"Look, I hate to break up this moment," Beca says, "But we need to keep walking. We don't know if Luke was the only person we need to worry about." She's right – but who else is left? Who else was helping him?
Aubrey nods and helps Chloe away from the tree. "Cock-block," she mumbles under her breath, because that is basically what she has proven herself to be – only kind of not really seeing as Chloe wants them all to have sex. So, what does that actually make her? She can't really even label Beca as 'the other woman' and have it be 100% accurate.
Beca gives her a look like she might have heard what she said, but she isn't quite sure.
Aubrey feigns a confused expression. Aubrey would never say something so crass.
"Can we please go?" Chloe asks, "I really want to sit down."
Aubrey nods and moves them along toward the road.
"Talk to me," Chloe requests.
"About what?" Aubrey isn't good at this – talking without a topic.
"Anything."
Not at all helpful.
"Please," Chloe begs – and Aubrey feels like she's failing her.
"Beca?" Aubrey requests. If anything, Beca can say something that Aubrey disagrees with, and Aubrey can go down her own path, telling Chloe why Beca is wrong. That's still talking about something.
"I…" Beca looks around.
Aubrey shakes her head and pulls a random fact, that she knows is not going to matter to anyone but her. "Greece's national anthem is 158 stanzas, making it the longest national anthem in the world."
Of course, no one has a response to that.
"The movie Titanic cost about two hundred million dollars to make," Aubrey tries again, "That's more than it cost to build the ship – which was seven and a half million in 1909, which was when construction on it started. With inflation, that would be about one hundred and seventy four million today."
"How much did it cost to ride the titanic?" Beca asks.
"Well, in 1912, it cost anywhere from around $15 up to around $4,350, depending on class," Aubrey answers, "So, today, that would estimate to between $170 to $50,000." She looks at Chloe, who is staring at her, nonplussed, like she hasn't lived with Aubrey long enough to know her.
"You're like a walking encyclopedia, Aubrey," Beca tells her, "You're weird."
Aubrey frowns. Weird?! "I am perfectly normal, thank you very much."
"Compared to who?" Beca asks.
"You," Aubrey answers without missing a beat.
"How do you pull all this random shit out of a hat, but you still have to study fifty hours for one test?" Beca asks.
"Neither of you are actually talking to me," Chloe says, "Do you just want to leave me here, and go off on your own?"
Aubrey rolls her eyes. "Yes, Chloe, after everything I just went through for you, I am just going to leave you here in the middle of the road."
Chloe sniffles. "I thought so."
"Yeah," Beca agrees, "We're going to go hide in a house together and have hot, angry sex, and you're going to miss all of it."
"I would rather go back and jump off that cliff," Aubrey states.
Chloe laughs through her tears.
That's better.
"You won't even let me in to watch?" Chloe asks, "You're into that, Aubrey."
"What?" Beca asks, "Dude. Aubrey."
Not better.
"She's lying," Aubrey states, "She was also hit in the head." And about to be hit in the head so much harder when Aubrey gets a hold of her in private.
"And I really need to sit down," Chloe reiterates.
"We're almost there." Aubrey can see houses in the distance.
"Anyone ever dream of being a real estate agent?" Beca asks, "How do we choose a house?"
"Look in windows," Aubrey replies, "See if we can find one with a fireplace but no chimney. If we can find a ventless gas fireplace, we can warm up without anyone knowing we're there. Most of them don't need electricity to light."
"You get one side of the street, and I'll take the other?" Beca asks.
Aubrey nods. "I'll take the evens." The odds just don't feel right.
"Chlo, who are you going with?" Beca asks.
"Me," Aubrey answers for her. The thought of letting Chloe out of her sight again is too much to handle right now.
Chloe nods. "I'll go with Aubrey."
"You'll probably move faster than us," Aubrey says, "So when you get to the end of a block, double back around on our side until you meet us. If we don't find a house in…four blocks, we'll just choose at random." These are nice houses. Someone has to have a ventless fireplace.
"Sounds good."
"Let's walk down six streets," Aubrey says as they approach the first street, "We'll try to make it has hard to find us as possible."
"You're this mixture of smart and absolutely ridiculous that I don't understand," Beca says.
Aubrey has no idea what she's talking about or how to respond to that – so she chooses to pretend she didn't hear it. She crosses the street to the even houses once they reach the sixth street.
Chloe stops and leans against the gate, resting her elbows on top of it and her head in her hands.
"Chloe, come on," Aubrey urges her along, trying to ease her toward the house without jostling her too much.
"You're going to be faster going back and forth without me," Chloe says, not lifting her head, "Go."
"I am not going to leave you over here alone," Aubrey refuses.
"It's only a few feet," Chloe replies, gentle with her tone.
"Well, it was only a few feet in the church too," Aubrey reminds her – the initial fear of realizing Chloe was missing repeating itself all over again inside of her.
Chloe lowers her arms and her head onto the top of the fence.
"You have to go with me," Aubrey says, "You can't stand here by the fence alone."
"You'll be right there," Chloe tells her, "I'll be okay here."
Aubrey folds her arms and plants her feet firmly into the sidewalk.
"I'm starting to feel like I'm going to be sick again," Chloe mumbles.
…and Aubrey stands there, feeling absolutely fucking useless.
"I want to go inside somewhere," Chloe pleads, "Please, just find a house, Aubrey."
Aubrey looks back and forth between Chloe and the walkway that leads to the first house – torn. She needs to get Chloe inside – but letting her alone is the reason she's injured to begin with.
Chloe turns around, back against the fence, and places one hand on her forehead and the other on her stomach as she slowly slides down the rails to sit on the grass.
There is no way Aubrey can leave her side. Beca is running down the street, looking into the windows of every house, and that's going to have to be enough. She sinks to her knees next to Chloe, clueless on how to help. "There's ibuprofen in our bags," she says, but she knows, she knows that no amount of ibuprofen is going to fix this. They need to go to the hospital – both of them.
Chloe nods and scoots sideways against the fence, stopping when she's able to lean sideways into Aubrey.
Aubrey expected more of a fight than this – more of Chloe demanding she leave her alone to go peer inside windows. She wraps her arms around her again, holding her tight. "How bad does it feel?"
"I'm okay," Chloe assures her, turning her face into Aubrey's chest, "I just need to sit down."
"That's not what I asked."
Chloe places her hand against Aubrey's chest, where her heart is beating far too fast and hard to be healthy. "It's not that bad." She pats Aubrey's chest with her fingers. "I just need a minute."
Aubrey falls quiet, staring at the road for a few seconds before lifting her gaze to watch Beca.
Beca turns around on the porch of the fifth house and looks for them – visibly freezing for a moment when she notices they're on the ground, still at the first house on the block. She drops all of their things on the porch of that house then takes off jogging back to them. "That one," is all she says, out of breath once she reaches them, and points at the house, "Fireplace, no chimney." She rests her hands on her knees, looking far more exhausted than running a block should make a person, and stares at Chloe.
"We have to get up now." Aubrey can't wait to be settled inside somewhere, where she doesn't have to move anymore.
Chloe nods and turns away from Aubrey, not really making an effort to actually stand. She sits with her fingers digging into the grass for a few seconds before extending her arms out toward Beca.
Beca grabs her hands and helps pull her to her feet as Aubrey pushes her up from behind. "This reminds me of the time we all got drunk at the Bellas house, and you tried to pull me back to my dorm," she comments.
"That was me trying to pull you," Aubrey informs her.
Beca pauses. "That explains being left on the doorstep in front of the house." She wraps Chloe in a one-armed hug, and reaches her other hand down to help Aubrey up too.
"Stacie helped you; you were fine." Stacie. Aubrey doesn't want to think of their friends right now. She grabs Beca's hand with her good hand, then grabs the fence with her other one once she's halfway up. Chloe's blood is smeared across the white paint, and Aubrey stares at it as she lets go of Beca and lowers her hand.
"I am going to be so sober when I go home," Beca says, making room so Aubrey can help with guiding Chloe down the block, "I do not want to go on that spiral."
That's probably a good idea for all three of them. "I am going to be contacting the High Notes a lot." Okay, maybe not the actual High Notes, but her point is made. Fortunately, she knows a person, or, well, maybe a few people in Queens willing to take her money. It's going to take a lot more than a few milligrams of Xanax to calm her down after this.
"Wasn't Bologna Barb a High Note?" Beca asks.
"No," Aubrey answers, "Bologna Barb became a BU Harmonic our senior year to piss me off - more."
"Dude, right," Beca says, "Then she failed and became their leader."
"Beca, Bologna Barb is the last person I want to talk about right now," Aubrey says, and begins a painful ascent up the porch stairs.
"Why?" Beca asks.
Aubrey stops once she reaches the top and emits a loud sigh. "Bologna Barb was my Kimmy Jin, until Chloe saved me."
"Really?" Beca asks.
"Mhm," Aubrey hums and leaves it at that.
"I actually feel lucky to have had Kimmy Jin now," Beca says.
Aubrey nods. She helps Chloe to a chair, then assesses the house.
"How do we get in?" Beca asks.
"We break in." Duh.
Beca shakes her hands out and takes a few steps back.
"What are you doing?" Aubrey asks.
"You and Chloe aren't going to break in," Beca points out.
Oh. Oh. Aubrey opens her mouth to stop her then changes her mind. She wants to see this.
Beca charges the door and slams shoulder first into it, then crashes backward on the floor. "Dude, ow!" she exclaims and grabs her shoulder, spinning around onto her knees. "That is not like on TV! Ow!"
Tears burn Aubrey's eyes as she tries to hold back, because laughing will cause too much pain.
"What the hell?" Beca looks at the door, "It's like steel."
Aubrey chokes, and pain tears her insides apart.
"You're laughing, but we can't get in," Beca says.
"People always remember to lock their doors," Aubrey says, "But they rarely remember to lock their windows." Homes aren't like businesses where there is a lock up routine every night. God, she's going to be so disappointed if she's wrong though. She walks over to the window and struggles for a moment due to lack of strength, then slides it open. Yes. God might actually be real – cruel, but real.
"Fuck you," Beca deadpans.
It's weird – that in their situation, Aubrey manages to grin. It's guilt inducing. Everyone is dead. Chloe is injured. She shouldn't be doing anything except surviving and crying. Yet, she's laughing at Beca. She doesn't even know how she has it in her to experience any emotion outside of devastation and terror. Pain or no pain, there is no way she is letting Beca take this moment from her. She manages to get one leg over the window ledge, because she is going to unlock this door.
"You know it's bad when Stacie has to help you," Chloe says out of the blue.
Aubrey stops halfway through the window. "Chloe…" she says slowly, the moment gone, "Honey, are you sure you're okay?"
Chloe is still for a moment then nods. "I told you I'm fine."
Aubrey turns herself the rest of the way around, experiencing life in slow motion, until her feet are on the floor inside. She's fine. Chloe is fine. She has a concussion – and that's going to make her a little off. Aubrey stands up and walks over to the door, then unlocks it and opens it. They're all going to be fine. They have somewhere safe to hide now. "Go start locking all the windows," she commands Beca.
Beca looks away from Chloe, then nods. "Yeah, yeah, on it." She pushes their things in, then rushes inside herself.
"Let's go inside now." Aubrey reaches to help her up.
Chloe takes her hand, cringing as she stands, tumbling forward into Aubrey – catching herself as Aubrey catches her too. "Where did Beca go?"
"To lock the windows," Aubrey answers.
Chloe nods.
"Do you still feel sick?" Aubrey asks.
Chloe nods again.
"We're going to go inside and sit down," Aubrey tells her, and tries to focus on slowly breathing.
Chloe looks at her. "I'll forgive you for not carrying me over the threshold of our first house," she says lightly, "You carried me into our apartment, so it's fine." She squeezes Aubrey's good arm, then holds onto it and looks around. "Did Beca go inside?"
Aubrey nods. "To lock the windows," she repeats.
Chloe releases her arm. "I want to go inside," she says, the lightness gone so suddenly, replaced with desperation, "Aubrey, my stomach hurts."
Aubrey's does, too – somehow even more than before.