Conspiracy Theory Anon: Why must you be anon. Show yourself.
Pixie1913: You get your resolution in the next chapter. What.
Andiclauds: Oh, they'll be leaving the island very very soon now.
FromTumblr: As you should be.
RJRMovieFan: Aubrey's thoughts exactly.
Mwallace: The end is right around the corner.
Joanshea: Aubrey is pretty great.
SunDanceQT: Yes. That.
Guest: Part one is almost finished, but the entire story will be a lot.

A/N: This is it, guys. There is only one (maybe two, but I doubt it) chapters left in part one. The next chapter reveals it all. Tell me now - who do you think it is?

Arrhythmia

We lay here for years or for hours;
Thrown here or found,
To freeze or to thaw.
So long we become the flowers;
Two corpses we were,
Two corpses I saw.
- Hozier

Aubrey stepped to the side of the counter in Barden's café to put away her change after purchasing a much needed caramel latte. Who knew after all the studying, extra-curricular activities, and bull-shitting about colleges she never planned to attend to her father in high school, college was even more exhausting? And it had just started.

"Hi," a cheery voice interrupted her out of nowhere.

Bag half zippered, she looked up at. God, she hoped the overly giddy girl standing in front of her was talking to another person that Aubrey just didn't notice – because now was not the time. The time to try to make friends with Aubrey was a quarter past never. She finished zipping her bag then stood up straight, and waited for her to say something else. Maybe she had just dropped a quarter or something, and didn't realize it.

No such luck.

"Aubrey, right? I recognize you from auditions." the girl said, "I was trying to tell you we had some classes together, but you had to leave really fast, or didn't hear me, or didn't want to hear me…" She said the last part like it was a joke.

Smart to corner Aubrey the second time around somewhere where she had no escape, unless she wanted to waste three dollars and leave empty-handed. "I'm sorry, I have no idea who you are." Aubrey tried to be as polite as possible, because, quite honestly, she just wanted to get her coffee and leave. She had things to do. She turned and faced the counter.

"I'm Chloe. I always sit in the back of class," Chloe continued, "So you probably don't ever see me." She already had her coffee; she was clutching it with both hands. "I'm always looking at the back of your head. I mean, like, not always, not like the whole class, that would be weird, but just because, like, you sit in front of me, and it's hard to just not see the back of your head, and-"

"Can I help you with something?" Aubrey asked. She had seen Chloe before. Many times, actually. She was…hard to miss.

"How do you think we did at auditions?" Chloe asked, "Do you think you got in? I'm sure you got in. You did so great. I'm a little worried if I didn't get in; it's literally the whole reason I came to school here. Probably not smart to bank my whole future on being a Bella." She didn't appear particularly concerned about this. "I've wanted to be a Bella my whole life. Well, not my whole life, because how would I know what A Capella is as a baby? But since I was like five."

Aubrey tried to send a desperate look to the barista.

"Do you want to get coffee sometime?" Chloe asked, "I mean, I know you're getting coffee right now, but maybe you want coffee again sometime, if you even like coffee that much-"

Who in their right mind gave this girl coffee to begin with?

"It doesn't have to be coffee. But I was thinking we could get it together – on purpose," Chloe kept going, "Like friends or something."

"Thank you," Aubrey mouthed to the barista as he handed her her cup. She turned to look at Chloe. Her heart was pounding for some reason – like it did when she got nervous, only without the urge to vomit. She needed air. "Do you realize how much you talk?" she asked, without waiting for a response, "You should really just stick to singing."

"I don't…think I know any songs about coffee," Chloe mused with a laugh.

"Excuse me." Aubrey really needed air. "I have to go."

"Right, no, yeah, of course," Chloe said, "I'll see you later?"

Aubrey looked at her one more time, then turned and walked out. Outside, she had more space. She drew in a deep calming breath, then looked back in through the window, watching Chloe bite her lip and just sort of stand there for a moment before walking toward a ground of people. On second thought, her stomach did kind of hurt, and the reason was hard to pinpoint. Great. If this coffee went to waste… She sighed and walked off toward the library where no one was supposed to talk, and she could continue to ward off people and get through these next four years alone.

xxxxx

Beca flips the switch up and down like a child, watching the light turn on and off.

"Beca, stop!" Aubrey hisses, "Turn it off."

Beca slowly flips the switch back down.

Aubrey looks around – checking that all the curtains are closed. They're a lighthouse with Beca doing that. She just wanted to see if it worked. "Maybe the phones are back on." She doesn't see a landline. This is the first she's ever considered the dangers of relying solely on cellphones. The moment she gets home, she's installing a landline and buying both a new cell and a backup. "Maybe the police are here!" Maybe they're saved! Elation is too big of an emotion, and it tires her out even further. But maybe…

"Or maybe it's a trap, because no one knows where to find us now," Beca tells her, effectively deflating her like stabbing a pin into a balloon, "I don't see a phone in the kitchen."

The local businesses have phones. If they could just make it back to one of them… That's a suicide mission if Aubrey ever thought of one – or, well, a homicide mission, really. Only Beca would be able to go, and even if she made it, there is no way of knowing if the phone lines have been reconnected or not. Aubrey tilts her head down. Phones. "Beca…" she says suddenly out of realization.

Beca just looks at her.

"Our cell phones are gone," Aubrey reminds her. Hers is smashed, but that's besides the point. Everyone else's phones were just fine when they were taken. "Why take them, unless they planned on turning cell service back on too? If we found a cell phone -"

"Where?" Beca cuts her off, "We don't even know who took them. If it was Luke…"

At the mention of Luke's name, Aubrey sees him falling from the bridge and smashing into the water below all over again. "It doesn't have to be one of ours. It doesn't even have to be active. You don't need a provider to call 911…" The only problem is: they're in someone's summer home, and summer is over. Why would someone leave their phone here for the winter? Unless they can find an old one in a junk drawer. Only – these aren't the kind of houses to have junk drawers in them.

"Aubrey, we're not going to find some random phone here," Beca states what Aubrey already knows, and Aubrey can see she's becoming more and more upset.

Aubrey looks at Chloe – needing her to chime in on the matter.

Chloe is staring off – expression neutral, no sign that she has even realized the power is back on. She's just curled up into Aubrey, her fingers entangled loosely in the fabric of Aubrey's shirt. The only movement her body is making is the shallow rise and fall of her chest.

"Why is she doing that?" Beca asks again.

"Because she has a head injury, Beca." Aubrey stops pinching her nose and moves her finger back and forth in front of Chloe's face – looking to see if her eyes follow the movement. They don't. Blood has stopped dripping from her nose, at least. But at leasts are not feeling very comforting.

It takes longer for Chloe to snap out of it this time. And, when she does, she falls dead weight against Aubrey and grabs her shirt – looking around petrified at the living room. Her breaths start to come in short, hard gasps, and she tries to back up and wedge herself between Aubrey and the back of the couch.

Whatever Chloe is looking at, Aubrey doesn't see it. Aubrey moves over before she ends up pushed off the couch – making it all worse.

Chloe buries her face in her hands, rocking her body forward. She cries out and presses her fingertips against her forehead, leaning into them. She's in pain. Every centimeter of her screams it. She barely gets out full sobs, before she's sucking air back into her lungs and crying it out again – and again – and again.

Aubrey maneuvers herself to sit on the coffee table in front of her, accidentally sitting on the gun. She picks it up and stuffs it into the back of her pants just to get it out of her way. "We are this close to going home, Chloe, okay?" she tries to reassure her. She isn't even sure if Chloe realizes she's here again. She's useless to her right now. They need a doctor.

"Mom. Mo-" Chloe throws up again, all over her own lap without warning.

Aubrey leans forward to push Chloe's hair back from in front of her, and sits with her through it. She looks at Beca. "Clothes," is all she says, even though she's not sure she's going to get Chloe settled enough to actually get her out of these ones.

The very second Chloe stops gagging, she's in hysterics, suddenly calling for Aubrey instead of her mom – bawling so hard that it's impossible to tell if she's saying "Bree" or breathing so quickly that every "Au" is an intake of breath. She tries to fall sideways, wailing in desperation when Aubrey catches her, and Aubrey has to let her lie down before she drops her. She won't sit herself back up; she drapes herself over Aubrey's arm until she's lowered down to the cushions. Lying down doesn't calm her any. Whatever Chloe keeps trying to say next is all just a jumble of syllables – until Aubrey finally realizes she's begging her to 'make it stop'.

Beca jogs back downstairs with new clothes and stops at the bottom of the steps – looking at Chloe in alarm. They're going to have to wait to try to get her into clean clothes anyway. And there is vomit all over the couch now too, so they're going to have to get her back down to the floor...

Aubrey moves to her knees on the floor and tries to soothe her by rubbing her back. "I'm right here." She slides her hand under the back of Chloe's shirt and rubs her bare skin. She feels so overheated, and Aubrey isn't sure anything can cool her down – even if they take her back outside in the rain.

Chloe presses hard against her eyes as she comes back down again – not really calming, but exhausting herself out of crying like that. She's still trying to keep crying and force out Aubrey's name.

"Chloe." Aubrey moves her hand away from her face – hoping that Chloe opens her eyes. "Look at me. Look at my face." Chloe cannot go through this, thinking she is alone, when Aubrey is right here. She's right here. She brushes Chloe's hair out of her face – and Chloe's eyes flutter open when Aubrey touches her forehead.

Chloe locks eyes with her, and draws her arms up close to her chest, rubbing her fingertips back and forth across her lips – and Aubrey has never seen this kind of terror and trepidation, not even in the eyes of the deer.

Aubrey brushes her thumb across the spot between Chloe's eyebrows – then softly up the bridge of her nose and back down. Because that's what Chloe's mom did for her to comfort when she was scared, right? Aubrey doesn't know how to comfort her now; she's never been good at it to begin with.

"I…" Aubrey what? She's glad they met? She couldn't imagine her life any different? She doesn't know what she did without Chloe? How does she encompass every thought she has into something more than just telling Chloe she loves her? She can't. There aren't words in any language made to exist for this. How could there be? She hopes that if they do die, she lives her entire life all over again, just to meet Chloe again. Because she would rather relive all of the pain life has thrown at her for eternity than never see her again. She can see that Chloe is waiting for her to say something – needs her to say something.

Aubrey is wasting time trying to put words to feelings - especially when those feelings bring even more fear. "We're going to go home soon," she tells her with a sad smile, because she doesn't believe it at all, "And this will all be over." She continues stroking the bridge of Chloe's nose. They'll fall back into their daily routine, and all of this will feel like just a bad dream – and Chloe will be fine.

Chloe's hands are shaking; she refuses to look away from Aubrey – her eyes fluttering back open every time they close to find eye contact again.

Aubrey drapes her other arm over Chloe, rubbing her shoulder too. She feels so much that her brain shuts down to it all – and she just keeps looking at her, trying to memorize the color of her eyes. She should sit her back up, force her to focus, but she can see the excruciating pain Chloe is in just collapsed there. "I can't wait to marry you, and spend the rest of my life with you. I loved you since the moment I met you." She may not have realized it then, but she loved Chloe from the very first moment they spoke.

A ghost of a smile graces Chloe's face then fades back into that blank expression that leaves her staring straight through Aubrey like she's made of glass. She comes back again, for a fraction of a moment, in tears, panicking, struggling harder to keep her eyes open. She's so exhausted and consumed by pain, even more so than Aubrey. And Aubrey can't stand to see her like this.

"Just rest," Aubrey tells her, "I'll be here."

The pure, unadulterated sadness that supersedes Chloe's panic and renders her tears silent pierces the entire room - because they both know... They're not going home.

Aubrey stops rubbing Chloe's shoulder and takes her hand - and she walks Chloe as far as possible through the past nine years, and her feelings and perspective on it all.

And Aubrey watches her fade out into unconsciousness, no differently than all the times she's watched her fall asleep in bed, except for the way every piece of her heart shatters.

xxxxx

For months, Chloe bothering Aubrey became her routine – especially after they were both chosen as Bellas. Then it was every freakin' day. Chloe trying to strike up conversation with her after class or practice. Chloe finding her on the quad. Chloe trying to buy her lunch. Chloe saving her a seat at every floor meeting. Chloe. Chloe. Chloe. The worst part of it all was that it wasn't like Chloe was some creepy stalker that Aubrey could just call campus police on. She wasn't following Aubrey around to places where she didn't belong or making her uncomfortable beyond being an irritation. No. She was just there... charming and sweet and annoyingly kind – and, for some odd reason, enamored with Aubrey.

Until she wasn't.

For five and a half days.

For five and a half excruciatingly long days, she destroyed Aubrey's routine by finally taking a hint and keeping her distance. She didn't even wave when she walked by. And if there was anything that bothered Aubrey more than someone's constant presence, it was being ignored. And Chloe, who Aubrey became used to seeing and talking to every single day, was ignoring her. Aubrey would not stand for that.

On the sixth day, after Chloe didn't try to sit with her at lunch, Aubrey marched straight to her dorm room – two coffees in hand. The door was cracked open, which threw Aubrey, who was planning to bang on it, for a loop, but didn't really surprise her. Chloe seemed like the type that welcomed in random visitors. And she froze. What if Chloe had a friend over, and she was interrupting? It was quiet inside. It didn't matter. She was there, and she had something to say. Careful not to spill the coffee, she rapped on the door with her knuckles.

"Come in," Chloe called. Just like that. She didn't even ask who it was.

Aubrey took a step back to turn and book it back to her own dorm, but how cowardice would that be. She pushed the door open and walked inside. "What if I was a burglar?" she asked right away, "You just leave the door open for anyone?"

Chloe stared at her from where she was sitting at her desk.

Aubrey placed the coffee down next to her then took two steps back toward the door, and waited for her to speak.

But Chloe looked completely dumbfounded.

Fine. Aubrey was just going to have to get to the point. "You're ignoring me," she stated.

"What? No, I-"

No, if Chloe didn't want to talk a moment ago (for once), it was Aubrey's turn. "You haven't been on the quad. You haven't waited for me after class or Bellas practice. You sit on the other side of the cafeteria at lunch and dinner. You didn't save me a seat at the floor meeting last night. You – you - you can't just spend all this time forcing me to talk to you, and then suddenly stop." Didn't she see that Aubrey needed routine? Didn't she see that Aubrey had grown used to this? That Aubrey looked forward to the consistency? That she...looked forward every day to seeing her?

There was a sudden emotional build up inside of Aubrey that she hadn't prepared for. Usually, that meant she was going to throw up. Only, this wasn't in her stomach. It was a knot in her chest and a tightening in her throat. She was…was she going to cry? She was supposed to be pissed off that Chloe was messing up her day – but, instead, her vision was beginning to blur. That wasn't supposed to happen. Panic seized her. She said what she had to say; her peace offering of coffee no longer mattered. She turned on her heel, head held high, and walked out, straight back to her dorm room.

"Aubrey!" Chloe called after her.

She hated Chloe anyway. Only, literally no one hated Chloe. Aubrey didn't hate her. Aubrey missed her. That was…ridiculous. Unacceptable. Absolutely unreasonable. She slammed her coffee down on her desk and sat down on the bed, backing herself up against the wall. She tried to take deep breaths. Her entire life, she had gone without this person accosting her non-stop, so why did it matter if she wanted to ignore Aubrey now – aside from how much Aubrey hated being ignored? It didn't. It didn't matter. She had gone her entire life without needing the company of anyone else and with no one else needing her around either.

So, why did her chest feel so damn tight? Why was there a lump in her throat that she couldn't will away?

The door handle turned – and, great, Barb was going to walk in and see her crying, and she was never going to live it down.

Aubrey quickly drew her legs up to her chest and folded her arms across them so she could lean forward and hide her face. "Get out." Maybe Bologna Barb wouldn't want to deal with her and just leave. Nope. The door shut and she could hear footsteps.

The bed dipped on one end, and suddenly there was a hand on Aubrey's back, rubbing between her shoulder blades. "I wasn't ignoring you." Chloe sat down next to her. "Aubrey, why would I ignore you? I just thought you didn't want me there."

"Well, that never stopped you before." Aubrey wiped her eyes, trying to pull herself back together. This was absolutely humiliating on so many levels. She wasn't even going to be able to face Chloe after this. She was going to have to transfer schools and change her name and hope Chloe forgot all about her. She tensed her shoulder muscles – trying to get Chloe to move her hand.

Chloe stilled her hand without actually lifting it from Aubrey's back. "Do you…" she asked slowly, "Do you want to come back to my room and watch videos of chubby cats trying to fit in boxes with me?"

No. No, Aubrey definitely did not. She had…things to do. Like look for another country to move to. Also, why would she want to watch videos of that? She couldn't think of anything that sounded more like a stupid waste of time. Even though, honestly, it didn't actually sound all that terrible. Quite the opposite. The going back go Chloe's room part - not the cat videos part.

"And we can talk about how much we hate Alice," Chloe sweetened the deal.

Aubrey nodded.

xxxxx

Chloe's pulse is weak, and it feels like it takes forever for Aubrey to find it. Even though she can still see the faint rise and fall of Chloe's chest; she needs to know that Chloe is unconscious and not...

"Is she…" Beca doesn't finish her question, but Aubrey knows the rest of it – dead?

Aubrey forgot she was even there with them. She slowly leans back away from the couch and shakes her head. How dare she even ask that? The coffee table is more of a hindrance than a help from Aubrey's position as she pushes herself to her feet, and nearly falls over it. She needs to find a cell phone. She needs to call 911. She needs to get help. She walks numbly toward the door – the world more or less melting away around her.

"Aubrey, where are you going?"

Aubrey pulls the door open and steps out onto the porch.

"You're just going to leave us here? Dude, Aubrey, come back inside! You can't leave Chloe here like this."

Chloe might be here – but she is also very gone.

And Aubrey wishes she was too.

And they'd find us in a week;
When the buzzards get loud,
After the insects have made their claim,
After the foxes have known our taste,
After the raven has had its say,
I'd be home with you.
I'd be home with you.