A/N: I am doing a LOST rewatch and suddenly realized how heavily Julia is based on Juliet right down to her name. I guess Juliet stuck with me more than I initially realized. So, if you want to know what Julia looks/sounds like, she is hands-down 100% Elizabeth Mitchell.
Dysrhythmia
Why does it feel like night today?
Something in the air's not right today.
Why am I so uptight today?
Paranoia's all I got left.
I don't know what stressed me first;
Or how the pressure was fed,
But I know just what it feels like,
To have a voice in the back of my head.
- Linkin Park
"I always wondered what these private lounges looked like," Julia says.
"Me too," Beca replies, "I just never thought this was how I was going to find out." She drops down casually next to Aubrey in a lounge chair meant for one, not one and a half.
"How did you think you would find out?" Julia asks.
"I don't know? Work? I thought I'd be sitting in here with famous producers."
Julia gives her a sad smile.
"Well, if you'd rather be sharing this chair with someone else, get off," Aubrey says. She was here first, after all. "There are plenty of chairs."
"Yeah, but they're not this chair, so that doesn't actually make sense."
Aubrey gives her a look to let her know how close she is to getting shoved off the chair.
Julia covers them up with the blanket. "What do you want to eat?"
Neither of them answer. Aubrey's nerves are too much of a wreck being this far from Chloe for her to be hungry.
"Okay. I will pick something out then." Julia turns and makes her way over to the bar that also serves food.
"How is she still going?" Beca asks.
Aubrey stares at her back. She's still going, because she wasn't there. She didn't see what Aubrey and Beca saw. She's pushing through the knowledge that Chloe is in a coma without having seen firsthand how she got there – and Aubrey is envious of her for that.
"Think she's going to bottle it up then explode on us?"
"I don't know." Aubrey watches her scan one of the menus then start talking to the server. "I don't think so."
Julia plucks the drink menu out of Conrad's hand and starts trying to talk him out of alcohol for breakfast – even if it is mixed with orange juice.
"She's such a mom."
"Because she is a mom."
"Dude, yeah, but not all moms are moms." Isn't that the truth. "And she's, like, mom enough to be everyone's mom. How does a person even turn out like that?"
Conrad says something that makes her blush and the server laugh, and she lightly smacks him with the menu and motions him away from her with a good natured eye roll.
Maybe some people are just kind. Maybe some people are just good somehow.
"What a charming friend you have," Julia says and drops down into the chair across from them when she comes back, sinking into it, "They said they'll bring out food to us." She looks at the two of them staring at her. "Why are you looking at me like that?"
Beca looks away, suddenly interested in the lounge area again.
Julia looks at Aubrey and tilts her head. "What?" she asks, and sits up a little. Her eyes say she isn't as happy and awake as she's coming across as. "You okay?"
"Minus Beca's elbow in my side."
"Okay." Julia slides back down. "Beca, move your elbow, please," she says when Beca doesn't take the hint.
"It's not even hurting you." Beca moves her arm.
Aubrey looks at her. Everything is hurting her.
"Why don't you sit in two separate chairs?" Julia suggests.
Aubrey's chest tightens as a sharp pain shoots through the very center of it. "I was here first," she announces.
"Well, I'm not moving," Beca argues lamely.
The tension behind Aubrey's ribs dissipates a little. "Me neither."
Julia smiles a tired smile and rubs her face. "Okay, you two." She looks up again when the boys come to join them, carrying multiple mugs. "What's this?"
"Coffee," Conrad says and hands her a mug, then hands another to Beca, "Coffee." He looks at Aubrey. "Tea."
Aubrey stares at the mug as it's offered to her. It's not that it's full of tea that bothers her, but that everyone else apparently gets coffee.
Conrad puts it down on the table in front of her, then takes his own mug from Brian. "So, I hope you like dogs," he says, refusing to let them slip into silence, "Because we have one. He's a year old, and his name is Bark Twain."
"He'll get along with Aubrey's cat, Catsy Cline," Beca says.
"I didn't know you had a cat!" Conrad exclaims.
"Me neither."
"He's a little rough around the edges," Julia says, "But very sweet."
Aubrey slowly turns her head to look at her. "You knew?"
Julia doesn't appear to have anything to say to that. She just waves her free hand in a circle like that's supposed to mean something then sips her coffee and looks away.
"Oh, they're going to have so much fun together!" Conrad gushes.
"What was I supposed to do?" Julia asks, clearly still thinking about Aubrey's accusation, "Last time Chloe talked to me about it, she was afraid you wouldn't love it by Christmas, and it would be homeless without a Christmas tree to climb. I felt bad. That poor thing is just living out there on the streets, and they don't even have homeless shelters for cats."
"Yes, they do," Aubrey informs her, "It's called the ASPCA."
"Oh, no, that's a prison." Julia rests her coffee in her lap. "They're all in there with their little noses poking through the bars, when they never even committed a crime. They're there because no one will give them a real home with Christmas trees to climb."
It's like talking to Chloe.
"It's too sad. I can't even think about it right now." Julia pauses. "But since we're on the topic, we need to go get that poor baby off the streets as soon as we get to New York, before it starts getting cold outside. He needs us to adopt him."
Conrad drapes himself over Julia's chair. "Will you adopt me too?"
Julia reaches up and pats his cheek. "You're so sweet. Sure. Thank you for the coffee, by the way."
"You wouldn't even know it's decaf, right?" Conrad asks.
Julia frowns. "What?"
"I've been watching you, and it seems like you might have a problem. I'm intervening. " Conrad backs up. "I come with a no return or exchange policy, by the way."
Julia places her mug on the table. "Go get me real coffee."
"Yes, Mom." Conrad rushes off.
Aubrey stares at the mug. It might be decaf, but it's still coffee…
"Drink your tea." Julia pushes the mug away from her reach.
Aubrey is about to make an argument when a man with a silver tray starts setting food down in front of them.
"Thank you," Julia tells him, "Could we get some extra plates?"
"Are we just digging in?" Brian asks.
"It doesn't seem like anyone is very hungry," Julia answers, "But we have to eat, so I was thinking we could just share a few bites of everything."
Conrad brings another cup of coffee back and hands it to her.
"You know, if I wouldn't know if it's decaf or not, I'm not sure I believe this is real coffee either," Julia states.
"Did you taste our drinks before you gave them to us?" Beca suddenly asks.
"Are we sharing?" Conrad asks, looking at the food.
That's even more reason for Aubrey not to drink this tea. "Tell me you don't taste people's drink at your job."
"Of course, I taste their drinks to make sure they're perfect," Conrad says, "But I don't drink it out of their cup. I pour a little bit into another cup – at work."
"Did you pour ours into another cup?" Beca asks.
"I said at work."
Beca's lips form a tight smile and she places her cup down on the table.
"I don't have cooties," Conrad says, "Or any diseases. I get tested regularly. And if you hear me sneeze, it's just because I have allergies."
"To what?" Aubrey inquires, "Being a normal person."
"Pollen," Conrad corrects her, "Which is really unfortunate. I love flowers. I'm also allergic to mold. But that's fine. Nobody likes mold. Ew."
The server brings back small plates for them and places them in a stack on the table – and they all utter their thanks, except for Aubrey who is trying to ignore the smell of food.
"You've been waking me up at the crack of dawn, starving to death, for days," Beca reminds her when she doesn't reach for a plate along with the rest of them.
Right. "I'm just not sure what I want." Aubrey takes her plate. Just a few days ago, Chloe was piling food onto a plate for them to eat outside. Then they made daisy chains and talked about marriage. Little did they know a few days later they'd be engaged...
"May I suggest a bagel?" Julia says, "Or some toast?" She uses the back of her fork to nudge some toast across a plate in Aubrey's direction. "Maybe some eggs…" She glances up at Aubrey, and Aubrey can practically hear what she's thinking. You gotta eat if you want to go home. "I think I'm going to have a bagel and some fruit."
"Sounds great." Aubrey resigns herself to eating the exact same thing.
xxxxx
"We're going to begin boarding flight 815 to Chicago in ten minutes, Ladies and Gentlemen."
"Why are we going to Chicago?" Aubrey asks as everyone gathers up their things.
"We have a layover," Julia tells her.
"Are you serious?" Beca looks at her boarding pass.
"You didn't hear the guy tell us that he would to get us another private place to sit in Chicago?" Julia asks lightly.
"I was a little distracted by people screaming questions at Aubrey," Beca admits.
Aubrey remembers now. It just hadn't sunk in completely. "I just got out of the hospital and Chloe is being airlifted to New York right now, and we couldn't even get a one-way flight?" She places her partially-eaten bagel on the plate, then drops the plate on one of the trays, irritation slamming her out of nowhere. She doesn't want to move. She sinks back into Beca and the chair, half-determined to wait right there until someone goes off and finds them a non-stop trip.
Julia stands up and starts organizing their dirty dishes and leftover food neatly for whoever comes to take it away. "I feel very frustrated about that as well. I'm tired. I'm ready to be somewhere that feels more stable. I can't even imagine how much more you two must want that. But, you know what? This day is going to pass just like all the other ones that felt like they were going to drag on forever, and before you know it, we can put traveling behind us." She stands up straight and brushes her hands together. "But we have to go get on that plane to make that happen. So, let's go."
Aubrey doesn't need to be told. She pushes herself up and tugs the jacket more securely around her. She won't lose track of it this time.
"I know you're exhausted," Julia whispers to her, taking the blanket from her as she walks by to fold it up for the walk onto the plane.
Aubrey keeps walking. There isn't room for exhaustion. This isn't the hospital anymore.
"Can you wait?" Beca asks.
Aubrey stops and looks back at her. "Walk faster."
"I have shorter legs than you, okay?"
"So do Jackrabbits, but they can still go up to forty miles per hour."
Beca catches up to her. "Yeah, but they hop."
"Maybe you should try that," Aubrey suggests, walking along with her.
"You'd like that, wouldn't you?"
"I don't know. Start jumping, and we'll see."
"I can't believe people assume I'm dead," Beca says when the boys are in front of them and Julia is behind them and everyone is out of earshot.
Aubrey wraps her arm around herself stares straight ahead. "You don't think that's a good thing?"
"It's a good thing for me."
Aubrey stops near the boarding gate.
"But not for you." Beca stares at her, concerned.
"I guess it's a good thing it's not the first time I couldn't go anywhere without seeing my face or having people yell my name."
"Was PukeGate really that bad?"
Julia catches up and saves Aubrey from needing to answer. It wasn't anything like this, but she's had her fair share of practice going through life where everyone knows who she is. She lifts her chin and tries not to think about it.
"Hey, Guys," the manager from earlier greets them, "If you want to stand over here, you'll board right after active-duty military."
Active-duty military. Aubrey does a sweep of the area for her family.
"Thank you," Julia says and shepherds them all over toward where they were asked to wait.
Aubrey feels like they're here.
"What are you looking for?" Julia asks and looks around too.
Feels like they're watching her. She shakes her head. "I was looking at the stores."
"Do you need anything?"
Even if she did, they wouldn't have time to go get it. She doesn't need anything though. "I'm fine."
"Alright."
No one bothers them while they're waiting. Aubrey spots Drywood and Miller a few feet away, looking around, surveying the area – although it doesn't seem they, or anyone else for that matter, are very capable of protecting her. They begin calling people to board. She's on her own now. She makes up her mind now that when she gets home, she's buying a gun.
They call for active-duty military, then the manager nods them forward, and they're met at the gate by another man in uniform.
"I'm Officer Clay. I'll be escorting you to New York."
Aubrey turns and steps onto the jetwalk with nothing more than a brief glance of acknowledgement at Clay. Where were the police when they needed them? Where was anyone? "Why didn't you call anyone to look for us?" she asks Julia and steps toward the very center of the jetwalk, hoping maybe that will make her feel less boxed in.
"I'm sorry?"
"You must have called Chloe a hundred times, right? She wasn't answering her phone, but you didn't think anything was wrong?"
Julia adjusts her things so she's carrying it all with one arm, then rubs her face with her other hand.
"What about me? Did you call my phone, and not think anything might not be okay when no one answered that either?" Aubrey steps on the plane a few feet behind Beca and the boys, and follows them toward the back until they decide on two rows. The boys sit down in one, and Beca takes the window seat, which once again places Aubrey in the middle - unless she wants to take the aisle seat, which she would if that didn't mean everyone could see her.
Julia places her suitcase below the seat and the blanket and alligator on her lap. She stares at the back of the seat in front of her for a moment before answering. "I did call Chloe a hundred times, because the conversation we were having and how abruptly it ended struck me as strange. I called you too. But, you know what, Aubrey? It's not unusual for you not to answer my calls or texts. And you can't just call the Seattle PD when your kids aren't answering their phones. But I did call them, the day before the hospital called me, for some peace of mind. They told me sometimes the reception on that island isn't so good, especially in the rain. I know you wanna place blame, but let's place it on the people who did this instead of the people who are trying to help." She leans forward to dig through her bag.
Aubrey struggles to buckle her seatbelt with one hand. It's not like the seatbelt in the car. "I can do it," she snaps when Beca tries to help her. She doesn't need to be buckled in like a child.
"When they come around and ask us if we want drinks, you can take these," Julia says, and tucks the pill bottles into the alligator's pocket, then looks at the buckles, "Will you let me help you?"
Aubrey makes a point of letting the buckles fall, then drops her hand onto her lap.
Julia turns to face her. "Move your hand," she directs and picks up either side of the buckle, then waits, looking at Aubrey's face until she does it. "Thank you." She buckles her in, then loosens the belt around her stomach and places the blanket over her to hide it. "Beca, you all good?"
Beca stares out the window at the runway. "Uh, yeah, yep, I'm all good…"
"You know, you have a pressure point on your hand that's very helpful with relieving nausea," Julia tells Aubrey.
Aubrey pulls her hand away as Julia tries to take it, then uses it to rub her eyes and face.
Julia drops her hand down to her lap, then turns to buckle herself up. "I'll leave you alone for right now then." She settles back into her seat. "But I'm here if you need me."
xxxxx
It's a full flight, and the more people they pack onto the airplane, the more Aubrey wants to get off. The seats are too small, there is no leg room, and no air circulation. She tries to close her eyes and pretend she's alone, but that provides only minimal relief for a few moments before she realizes she can't see who is getting on the plane. What if Jesse or her family follow her onto the plane and her eyes are closed?
What if Chloe's mom is in on it? The thought hits her out of nowhere. What? That's ridiculous. Chloe's mom is a good person.
Is it ridiculous? Maybe she's too good. Aubrey glances over at her and watches her fiddle with her phone. It isn't even turned on. She's just tracing the case with her fingertip, staring at the black screen. She barely seems upset. She should have been spending all of her time with Chloe, and yet…
"I was hoping Dad would have called or texted by now," Julia says when she notices Aubrey looking at her, "He's not very good at keeping people updated. But I'll call him once we're in Chicago." She tucks her phone into her pocket, then tries to get comfortable back against the seat.
Maybe something happened to him. Stop. He's fine.
"Isn't Chicago where you said your husband used to live?" Beca asks.
"Mhm. Maybe I should grab him a souvenir. It's too bad I can't take him back a deep dish pizza. He would love that."
"I can't wait to get my hands on a Philly cheesesteak once we're on the east coast," Beca says.
"Please, stop talking about food," Aubrey interrupts them. She can taste her bagel in the back of her throat.
"Sorry," Julia apologizes, "Maybe I'll get him some tacky souvenir. Like a magnet or one of those shirts clearly only bought by people who have a layover and never leave the airport."
"Or you could get him a keychain with his name on it," Beca suggests, "Or a snow globe."
Julia breathes a quiet laugh. "A keychain with his name on it… What about one of those fake license plates with his name on it?"
"Dude, you're the worst."
Julia closes her eyes with a smile. "Maybe a little." Her smile fades as the pilot begins speaking, and the three of them all turn their heads to watch rather absently as the flight attendants demonstrate the safety instructions. "I hate flying," she mumbles to what seems like herself and rubs her hands up and down her arms after they come around to make sure everyone's belted in with their tray tables up, "People belong on the ground."
Aubrey belongs wherever Chloe is, no matter what it takes to get there. Flying shouldn't matter right now. She's not in on it, Aubrey. Don't be stupid.
But how do you know?
xxxxx
Planes are a lot like being trapped on that island; once a person is on one, there's no getting off – with exception of sky diving. Every other means of exiting an airplane mid-air is likely to end in death. If one person on this plane decides that they want to kill as many people as possible, the odds are in their favor. The engine begins to whir and the plane feels hotter than a summer day in hell, causing beads of sweat to form on Aubrey's back and neck. She fixes the air vent so it's blowing directly at her, then uses the blanket to cover her hand as she subtly squeezes than the arm rest. She should haven taken a double dose of Xanax or asked for whatever the hospital had been giving her that knocked her out.
Everything will be okay once they're in the air.
Take off is always the worst.
Julia leans forward a little to look out the window.
Aubrey could really use whatever tricks she has up her sleeve to relieve nausea right now. But she already pushed her away. She looks at the floor and tries to calculate in her head how long a flight from Seattle to Chicago must be. It's no use. She can't concentrate on math right now. She could try to sleep, but what if something happens…?
"My husband and I flew to New Zealand once," Julia says as the plane take off, "That was the longest flight ever. It took about an entire day. But it was beautiful once the jetlag wore off."
"Why New Zealand?" Beca asks.
"Noah thinks he's some sort of survivalist. He wanted to go backpacking."
"So you back packed across New Zealand."
"Mhm. Fortunately, we compromised and stayed a few nights in one nice hotel toward the end."
"Where did you stay the rest of the time?"
"We camped." Julia leans back once the plane is in the air. "I can camp, but I would not consider myself a person who belongs solely in nature. It would be fine without the wild animals and the bugs."
"How did you shower?" Beca asks.
"We rinsed off under some small waterfalls at night when no one else was around," Julia answers, "That part wasn't that bad. It was a little cold, but –"
"He warmed you up?" Conrad suggests, making all three of them jump as he pops up behind Aubrey's seat.
Julia's cheeks turn a rosy shade of pink. "I was going to say they have hot springs." She pauses and looks out into the aisle. "But maybe."
Aubrey makes a face and Beca breathes out a laugh.
"Oh, Brian, let's go backpacking." Conrad throws himself back against his seat.
"Says the guy who considers Central Park to be a nature hike?" Brian responds, "No."
"Central Park has nature, Brian. What do you call the grass and the pigeons?"
"There are eighteen-thousand trees in Central Park," Aubrey breathes.
"Why do you know that?" Beca asks.
"I read it in a book." There may be no more hiking with Chloe. No more camping. No more just strolling through Central Park.
"I'm going to need you to show me all the best bookstores when we get to New York," Julia says, "Reading is a great way to occupy oneself." She slips her hand under the blanket, testing the waters by touching Aubrey's fingers before she takes her hand and begins putting pressure on the space between Aubrey's thumb and pointer finger. That must be the area that's supposed to make her stomach feel better. "I really enjoy reading biographies. What about you guys?"
"I love Adam Silvera," Conrad is the first to answer, "He writes all these gay romances set in New York City. I always pretend they're me and Brian."
"Don't all those books have unhappy endings?" Brian asks, "One is literally called They Both Die At The End."
"Yes, but we're like the happy ending fanfiction of them."
"I like the newspaper," Brian states.
"What about you?" Julia turns Officer Clay, who is sitting in the aisle seat next to Conrad. When he doesn't answer, she turns around again. "Beca?"
"I don't read a lot," Beca answers.
"Mm. That's sad. Aubrey?"
Beca arches a brow.
There are a lot of things Aubrey enjoys reading, but she doesn't feel like talking about them right now.
"It looks like they're about to start coming around to take drink orders," Julia says, looking down the aisle. She pulls the bottles from the alligator and then puts them away back in her suitcase after she's emptied the pills out in her hands. "This will make you feel better and help you sleep."
Sleep. And if something happens? Then what? Aubrey is unable to protect anyone, including herself? Maybe Chloe's mom wants her drugged for that very reason. Stop it.
"Here." Julia sits up straight with a plastic lined paper bag pulled out from the back of the seat in front of her and slides it under Aubrey's thigh to keep it close, then goes back to rubbing her hand with the hand not holding the pills. If she wanted Aubrey dead, why would she be doing all of this for her? She's just a good person.
"Would you ladies like something to drink?" the flight attendant asks when she reaches their row.
"Hi, yes," Julia answers then waits for Beca to order coffee and Aubrey to decide that just water is fine before ordering coffee for herself, "Thank you." She watches her walk away then asks, "You don't want to try to get some sleep, Beca?"
Beca turns and looks at Aubrey instead of her as she answers. "No. I'm going to stay up until the next flight."
So, Beca will be awake. Aubrey looks away from her. She doesn't need Beca to stay awake for her; not when she's going to stay awake herself.
xxxxx
"Hold out your hand," Julia says once their drinks are brought to them. She empties four pills into Aubrey's palm.
Depression. Anxiety. Nausea. Sleep. "Which is which?"
"You know I'm not going to tell you that right now. Take them, please." Julia takes a sip of her coffee. "Unless you want to feel sick this entire flight. That's your choice, but I can't imagine throwing up in that bag to be a very pleasant experience, especially when you barely ate any breakfast."
Aubrey weighs her options and how miserable she feels.
"What are you trying to avoid taking?" Julia asks.
All of them except the one that's going to calm her stomach.
"Tell me and we can talk it out."
Talk it out… Talk out all the terrible things that could happen on this plane. Aubrey has half the mind to pull the bag out from underneath her and drop all four pills inside. Be reasonable, Aubrey. What's reasonable anymore? Think. "I would like to stay awake."
"Why?"
Why? "It's going to be very difficult to switch planes if I can't wake up."
"Okay."
That's it? Just 'okay'?
Julia takes one of the pills from her hand and moves to put it back in the bottle. "If you change your mind, it's in the bag." She pulls one of the airline magazines out from the back of the seat in front of her and spreads it out across her table to look at it.
Aubrey pops the other three pills into her mouth and swallows them down, thinking afterwards that they could be poison. She pinches the bridge of her nose like it's a button to shut down her thoughts, then glares at Beca when she opens her eyes to find herself being stared at. "What?" she mouths.
"I'm going to stay awake," Beca silently replies.
"So?"
"So you can go to sleep."
Aubrey doesn't need her to stay awake just so she can go to sleep! She bites her tongue, because the airplane is no place to fight and they're supposed to be in this together. Instead of answering at all, she just wraps her arm around herself and leans back into her seat, preparing herself for a long fucking day.