96itadakimasu96: You didn't forget or miss anything. Chloe's family dynamics are about to be explored a bit more.
Ash: Thank you for reading!
SunDanceQT: Yas, he is.
Pixie1913: All will be answered in time.
Guest: ...will she or won't she.

Dysrhythmia

Fatigue Failure is defined as a structural breakdown that occurs due to repetitive or fluctuating stresses on an object.

ARRCA, a national engineering firm, describes it as this: "In the engineering world, a failure of a material typically occurs when the stress applied exceeds the strength of the material, and the material breaks in a single event. In fatigue, the failure occurs when the stress is lower than the strength, but it is applied repeatedly over a long period of time. If each cycle of loading and unloading is considered an event, there are many events before failure, sometimes millions."

It come in three stages.

Stage 1: Initiation – This first phase happens when the cyclic nature of a load being placed on a structurally sound object causes a microscopic imperfection to grow into a macroscopic crack, generally around a stress line.

Stage 2: Propagation – That first crack then grows perpendicular to the tensile stress line. Once the crack size has reached a critical level, it will expand very rapidly until the fracture is complete.

Stage 3: Final Rupture – Eventually, the structure weakens so greatly, it only takes one more load for the final break to take place.

Aubrey's hand creeps along the bed until it finds Chloe's, and she grips her fingers tightly as she waits. The pain and nausea intensify with each passing minute, and it's taking forever for someone to come help. Maybe Beca is right. Maybe she's pushing herself too hard and she really is killing herself. She wedges her face in the space between her arm and the blanket and fights tears until the weight of how she's feeling and of Chloe's motionless body laying next to her are too heavy to hold – and she shatters like glass.

How did this happen? How did any of this happen? Three weeks ago, they were going about their daily lives in New York, and maybe they weren't 'together', but they were fine. Hell, compared to this, Aubrey would even dare say they were happy.

She can't breathe. She feels like she's smothering with her face smashed against the bed. But even when she lifts her face to get more air, she can't seem to take a real breath. Each attempt is thwarted by sobs so painful, they don't even make a sound. How did this happen?

Julia wordlessly drags over another chair, its legs scraping the floor, and positions it next to Aubrey's. She's careful where she places her hands, avoiding all scrapes and bruises, as she pulls Aubrey upright while she sits down. Her fingers find Aubrey's hair and she cradles her head against her shoulder, and Aubrey offers absolutely no resistance at all – she just slides her arm back around her mid-section and turns her head so she no longer needs to see Chloe's body if she decides to open her eyes.

"Aubrey?" an unfamiliar male voice asks, "My name is Preston. I'm a nurse. I'm going to take you to a room." He addresses Julia next. "Let's get her in a wheelchair."

Aubrey's legs don't want to hold her as Julia helps her up and then back down; the wheelchair is the only choice. She settles back and takes to hiding half of her face behind her hand, peering through her fingers with blurry vision.

"Can we get a bucket or something incase she's sick?" Julia asks and rests a hand on Aubrey's head.

"Of course," Nora replies and walks away. She comes back with a blue plastic bag that's so much more inconspicuous than the giant pink bins at the last hospital and hands it to Julia, who places it on Aubrey's lap for her before she's wheeled out of the room.

In the hallway, Beca is a few feet away, talking to a nicely dressed woman with a hospital badge. They both fall silent upon seeing them.

"Beca, find us when you're done, okay?" Julia calls to her.

It's fine. Security is heavy here. Aubrey rubs the center of her forehead in a panic.

"Is that your sister in there?" Preston asks as Nora presses the elevator button.

Sister… Aubrey is probably going to get that a lot with Chloe's mom around claiming she's the mother of both of them. She shakes her head.

"No?"

"She's my fiancée," Aubrey mumbles into her hand.

"We're going to take excellent care of her," Preston assures her as the elevator doors open.

The doors close behind them, and Aubrey can't tell if they're going up or down – only that they're moving. She pinches the bridge of her nose and squirms around in her chair then grabs the bag and tries to hold it steady.

Julia quickly kneels down next to the chair and holds it steady for her. "You're okay," she assures her and uses her other hand to move Aubrey's hair away from where it's sticking to her face.

"Here, let's get around the corner," Preston says when the doors open, and Julia stands back up, still holding the bag still, "How long has this been going on?"

"I'm not entirely sure," Julia answers when Aubrey doesn't, and is back down beside her once they're off the elevator and in the somewhat privacy of a tiny nook in the hall, "I called her thirteen days ago, and my other daughter told me she had been up most of the night because she wasn't feeling very well, so, two weeks? Like this though, it just kind of happened today. She seemed like she was feeling better, and then it was just a complete turn around. She does have a tendency to vomit when she's upset, but even given the circumstances, this seems really excessive."

Aubrey shakes her head in frustration at herself as she tried to breathe through it before she helplessly pitches forward, her hand going out to grip Julia's upper arm for some sort of stability as a strong wave of vertigo crashes over her. The bitter taste of bile is accompanied by a metallic taste that incites a deep, primal fear and triggers her anxiety reflex, and leaves her desperate to be back in that room with Chloe.

"That's okay. You're okay." Julia keeps her hair away from her face and looks up at Preston. "As far as I know, this is the first she's thrown up blood."

"There are several things that could be the cause of that," Preston says calmly, "It's not always a serious condition. We'll check it out and see what's going on."

Please, calm down, Aubrey begs her own body as a series of barely productive heaves leave her coughing and sputtering. When it's over, she feels like she's just learning how to breathe.

"All done?" Julia asks.

Aubrey just nods, unable to speak right away.

"I'll take that from you," Preston says, taking the bag away, "Nora, you want to get them into a room?"

"It burns," Aubrey mouths.

"What burns, Baby?"

"Everything." Her throat. Her chest. Her stomach. It's all on fire. Aubrey releases her arm and watches her as she stands.

"Let's get to a room so we can figure out why." Julia rests her hand back on Aubrey's head, keeping it there as they move from the hallway to a room.

Nora parks the chair by the bed, then grabs a folded hospital gown from one of the cupboards. "I'm sure they're going to want you to put this on," she says and brings it to the bed, "I'll step out for a few minutes."

"Will you please let me help you put this on?" Julia asks and picks up the gown once Nora is gone and the door is closed behind her.

Aubrey doesn't see any other choice in the matter; she can barely move. She's so dizzy, she can barely even nod. "I'm sorry." They were supposed to be going home. Or, well, at least somewhere that isn't a hospital.

"Aubrey, look at me." Julia places the gown on the bed and holds up her arms. "There are no chains attaching me to you or to this room or to anywhere. I am free to leave whenever I want to. But I'm not going to. Because I don't want to. I'm choosing to be here, because I love you, so you don't have to be sorry. Now let's get changed and figure out what's wrong so you don't have to feel like this anymore. I want you to feel better."

Aubrey can't think of any lucid response to that right now. She's silent, shivering, as Julia works to help her out of her dress and leggings and into the hospital gown. From there, she's allows herself to be helped into bed and covered up with a blanket where she curls up on her side and waits for Preston and Nora to return.

xxxxx

"Is it alright if I sit in?" Nora asks when they come back, and Aubrey numbly nods.

Preston goes through the basics of checking her blood pressure, which is almost back to normal, and her temperature, which has shot up to 101.8. He then pulls a chair over closer to the bed and sits down with his pen and his clipboard. "So, tell me what's been going on."

There's a knock on the door before Aubrey answers, and another man comes in and introduces himself as Dr. Sneider. Then they're all standing there, waiting for an answer, and Aubrey doesn't even know where to start.

"When did this start?" Preston tries again, "About two weeks ago?"

"I don't know for sure," Aubrey answers.

"Just tell me what you can," Preston says.

"Two weeks ago, I woke up with a migraine from not sleeping well, and I threw up, but then I felt fine the rest of the day after I got some sleep," Aubrey recounts, "Then later that night, something happened, and I threw up again, because I was upset, and I haven't felt well since then."

"Can you share what happened?" Preston asks.

Aubrey shakes her head, not wanting to even think about it.

"Okay, well, was it something that happened to your body that could have made you ill?"

Another head shake.

"How many times have you thrown up in the past two weeks?"

"I don't know," Aubrey answers.

"More than five?"

"Yes."

"More than ten?"

"Maybe around there."

"Around ten," Preston confirms and writes that down, "Any diarrhea or trouble using the bathroom?"

Aubrey feels the heat of humiliation wash over her entire body. Between not having time to use the restroom on the island, being in and out of consciousness for days, and her stomach being so upset, how could anything be working normally?

"I know that you said you're engaged to another woman, and I'm sorry, but I'm still required to ask, is there any chance you could be pregnant?"

"No."

"Any pre-existing health conditions?"

"No."

"Do you have a family history of any serious health conditions?"

"No."

"Do you have any pain?"

"My stomach and my chest and my throat."

"Is the nausea ongoing?"

"It fluctuates in intensity."

"But it hasn't ever fully gone away these last two weeks?" Preston asks.

"For a few minutes sometimes."

"Even with medication?"

Aubrey nods.

"Is this the first time you've vomited blood over the past two weeks?"

Another nod.

"Are you eating and drinking enough?"

Aubrey picks at the blanket as she shakes her head.

"Let's get an IV hooked up first and get some fluids going," Sneider decides, "I have a list of tests that we can run, and hopefully we can find out what's causing this. Do you know what kind of tests they ran in Seattle? Some of the paperwork looks incomplete."

"I was unconscious the first few days," Aubrey answers.

Preston looks at Julia. "Were you present?"

"I was," Julia answers, "But it was difficult enough convincing them to let me in the room at first, let alone trying to get much information out of them."

"That's something we can change, if you'd like," Nora chimes in, flipping through some papers on her clipboard, "You're listed as Chloe's emergency contact and someone who can make decisions for her in case she's unable to make them for herself. There is paperwork that can be filled out for Aubrey as well. Right now, it looks like we have a Laura and James Posen to be contacted in case of emergency."

"I don't want them on there," Aubrey reacts immediately, "Take them off."

"I'll go get the papers," Nora says and leaves the room.

That leaves Aubrey wondering if the hospital in Seattle had contacted her parents, and, if so, what they had said… It wasn't anything convincing enough for them to show up for her.

"I'll be back to check in," Sneider says.

Preston stands up. "And I'll be right back with an IV line."

Aubrey stares at their backs as they go, then turns her face into the bed to block out the light.

"Let's put Dad on there too, okay?" Julia suggests and pats her head, "I want to know that if, God forbid, there is another emergency, you are taken care of."

xxxxx

The door opens again, but it isn't Preston who walks in; it's Beca.

"Where were you?" Aubrey mumbles hoarsely.

"Some lady was talking to me about how to get my stuff from LA," Beca answers and sits down on a chair, "What happened?"

Aubrey stares at her for a moment before deciding that's enough of an answer to her question. She shrugs Beca's question to her off and closes her eyes again, finding it a little easier to breathe with her there.

"Is everything okay?" Beca asks, "Did they tell you what's wrong?"

They haven't even been in the room long enough to hook up an IV, but Aubrey is too tired to be snarky about it. She just shakes her head.

"We might be in for a longer day than we thought," Julia says, "She has a fever and she threw up a little blood."

Beca sits down on the edge of the bed near Aubrey's feet.

Aubrey is quiet for a moment before she decides to ask, "If something else were to happen, who would show up for you?" She's sure she already knows the answer though.

"What do you mean?" Beca asks.

"If you ended up in the hospital, who would they call?"

Beca exhales and lifts her shoulders.

"They can call me," Aubrey offers.

"I think you're out of it right now," Beca responds.

Maybe…

"I think what she means is that we were talking about updating her emergency contact list, and maybe it would be a good idea for you to do that as well," Julia says, "You can even add my husband and I on it, if you want."

"Why?" Beca asks, "So you can make sure Aubrey's first question isn't if she can sign a DNR?"

Julia smiles. "Well, that and Aubrey doesn't have a phone right now, so it'd be a little hard to contact her."

Aubrey's phone. It's still in the pocket of her dress. She was so distracted by the fact that she was puking up blood that she completely forgot about it. She's lucky it didn't fall out or that Julia didn't feel it when she was helping her change.

"I'll think about it," Beca replies.

"Why?" Aubrey asks.

"Why what?"

"Why do you have to think about if you would rather have us compared to nobody at all?"

Beca sputters like she wasn't prepared for that sort of question. "This is a lot to take in," she defends herself, "Would you want me to be the one they contact if something else happens to you?"

Right now, along with Chloe's parents? Yes. But with Beca asking it that way, Aubrey isn't so sure. Before she can answer, Preston knocks then comes in with a cart of things, and that ends the conversation for now.

"Let's stick the IV in your hand, so you can still bend one arm," he suggests.

Aubrey rolls onto her back, purposely bumping Beca with her legs so she'll find somewhere else to sit, and places her hand palm down so another IV port can be shoved into her vein. She closes her eyes as he sticks her, beginning to feel queasy again.

"Are you on any medications?" Preston asks, and Aubrey responds with a barely visible nod.

"These here," Julia says, and she can hear the bottles being laid out on the table, "She's going to need the bandage on her shoulder changed soon."

"I'll take care of it," Preston replies, "We'll want to check for infection there as well. Did they do any blood tests at the last hospital?"

"I'm not sure," Julia answers.

"Alright. I'm going to draw some blood before attaching the IV bag."

Aubrey hates the idea of little plastic tube more or less impaling her hand, and, even more than that, she hates the idea of anything coming out of or being put into her body through said tube. She tries to focus on something else, like how maybe this will end with them fixing her.

"You're doing great, Bunny," Julia tells her.

"Done," Preston says a minute later, "Can you sit up?"

Aubrey rolls onto her side first then slowly props herself up using her hand. That's the best she can do. She should have slept.

xxxxx

They test for everything. It takes forever. They check her shoulder, swab her for the flu, do an ultrasound and a MRI. It all comes back negative. Every result says that nothing is wrong. They exhaust every option until Aubrey is done and there are no options left. When all that's left to do is wait for the last few lab results, they dim the lights and tell her to just rest. But as exhausted as she is, she can't sleep. She feels like she's dying all over again – and if she is dying, she just wants to do it next to Chloe or at home. She stares at the light coming in from underneath the door as Julia slowly, tiredly pets her hair, and waits for someone to tell her she's free to leave. At least if something does happen to her, she's able to rest assured that she's in good hands now – and that they're not going to leave anything up to her own parents.

xxxxx

It's sometime in the evening when Preston, Sneider, and Nora all come back into the room together. Preston turns on the light then takes a seat while the other two hover behind him. "I know that you're ready to go home," he says, looking at her, "But there's one more route we want to explore, and I just have a few more questions for you, if that's okay."

Aubrey only nods.

"I think there is a lot going on here, and I'm trying to look at your symptoms while ruling out what could be being caused by your injuries and trauma – which is difficult. I think a lot of things are intermingled right now. But I think it's safe to look at the nausea and vomiting and fever as all one thing. It looks like when you arrived to Seattle, you were in shock, you lost some blood, your blood pressure was low, and your friend reported that you had been out in the cold rain for a significant amount of time – and, while rather unlikely, it's possible that without those factors causing your temperature to drop, you could have been feverish for awhile. So, I'm taking that into consideration, and I'm concerned about that. I'm not too worried about the blood. Your throat is raw and it looks like you probably just ruptured some blood vessels back there while vomiting. I am concerned about the nausea in general though."

Aubrey just listens.

"Um, when you were there on that island, did you happen to eat or drink anything that tasted weird, or maybe leave something unattended, or accept something offered to you by someone you didn't know or couldn't trust right before this all started?"

"I don't know."

"You did," Beca says from across the room, "You were drunk and that bartender gave you water."

Nikki.

"How long before you started feeling sick did you drink that?" Sneider asks.

"A few hours at most," Aubrey answers, "But I threw up that night because something else happened." She knows she vomited out of anxiety that night - at least the first time, it was out of anxiety. She can still feel the terror just thinking about it. But she had also thrown up again after that and been miserable all night long and from there on out.

"In that case," Sneider says, "It's highly possible that vomiting could have saved your life, if something had indeed been put into the water. That probably got a lot of it out of your system."

Aubrey wants to laugh, but she doesn't have the strength. In what world is stress vomiting something positive?

"It's difficult to detect a lot of poisons, unless we know exactly what we're looking for," Sneider continues, "And, in this case, we have no idea. My guess would be something similar to Ricin. There is no sure way of knowing, but my professional opinion would be that, especially given the circumstances of what happened, someone was attempting to poison you."

"So, what do we do?" Julia asks.

"There isn't a lot that we can do," Sneider says, "Given that we don't know what we're looking at here and that, even if we did, there is most likely no cure, all that can really be done is treat the symptoms and let it run its course – and, even then, it's difficult to tell how long that will take. But on a positive note, there is no sign of organ failure or anything like that – and, when it comes to most poisons, after 3 to 5 days, the chance of death is significantly decreased, and it's been two weeks. I think the main thing to worry about in all of this is dehydration. I know it's difficult to drink when it's hard to keep anything down, but…that can become fatal very quickly – and it can also be exacerbating everything. I'm going to prescribe something strong for the nausea and the pain. I recommend taking it regularly for the next two weeks, and then slowly begin tapering off, and hopefully by then you'll be feeling better."

"Is it okay to take her home?"

"There isn't anything we can do here that you can't do at home except for IV fluids, and as long as we can make the nausea go away enough that she can drink, I don't find staying here to be necessary. If nothing changes within twenty-four hours of starting these medications though, I would definitely come back. I'm going to write a prescription, and also give her the first dose here, so, you guys don't have to worry about getting them filled until tomorrow morning."

"Thank you," Julia tells them, "But why is it getting worse right now?"

"I would say it's leisure sickness," Sneider answers, "She's home now. The adrenaline is wearing off and her body isn't working quite as hard to survive. It's the same reason people are prone to becoming sick right after vacation or on their days off from work; this is just more severe."

Julia nods.

"Do you guys need anything else right now?" Nora asks.

"I think we're all just ready to leave and get some sleep," Julia answers.

"Understandable," Preston says, "I'll get your prescription and discharge papers."

"Why couldn't they have told us this in Seattle?" Julia thinks out loud when everyone leaves the room.

"I'm still sorry about that night," Beca says.

The only thing worse than the night they went to see Tyler's body then found the deer is what happened to Chloe. Nikki had made her shoot it on purpose. She had most likely slipped something into her water that night then purposely traumatized her, claiming that she, herself, couldn't put it out of its misery while she was actually aiding in killing all those people in cold blood. She wanted to see Aubrey suffer.

And she got it.

Aubrey may not be dead, but Chloe's unconscious, so…close enough, right?

"She should have killed me."