A/N: Lately, I've been tweaking some minor plot points in order to take PP3 into account. I think this is the most I've redone in my original outline since starting the story. But, it actually works better this way, following the same storyline, while still keeping the other Bellas relevant. So. Yay.

Dysrhythmia

All of your flaws and all of my flaws,
They lie there hand in hand;
Ones we've inherited, ones that we learned,
They pass from man to man.
There's a hole in my soul,
I can't fill it, I can't fill it.
There's a hole in my soul,
Can you fill it? Can you fill it?
- Bastille

"What are you thinking?" Beca asks after what feels like hours.

Nothing. Everything. Aubrey turns her head to be able to see her better. "I'm glad you changed your mind." About finding answers, about staying, about her…

"Someone has to try to help your mom keep you from pushing yourself so hard."

"We've been away from that place for, what, two weeks now? I've done nothing."

"No," Beca disagrees, "The police have done nothing – which is the whole reason we're the ones trying to play detective."

"Do you think they're in on it?" Aubrey asks, "I know it sounds…" Crazy. She skips saying the word out loud. "But…"

"I have no idea what to think at this point. But if they are, that means this is so much bigger than Jesse being jealous of Chloe. He would have had to be some sort of pawn."

There's that word again. Pawn. That just creates so many more questions. "Do you think it was a bribe? Getting rid of me and Chloe in return for something else?"

"I never saw him being that desperate," Beca answers, "I knew he was jealous, but not like that."

Aubrey sighs. It's all just dead ends. "Hand me my computer."

"No. We made a good effort today, and now we're going to radio and chill until you can get in touch with your brother."

"Stop saying radio and chill."

Beca ignores her. "What's he like anyway?"

"My other brother?"

"The first one was kind of a dick. I actually don't know if I hate yours or Chloe's brother the most."

Yeah, Aubrey was a little taken aback by Daniel as well. "Liam is…not like JJ. He means well; he's just naïve. It's difficult to believe he did this on purpose – whereas JJ could have been that third person if he wasn't too stupid to pull something like this off."

"So you're sure he wasn't the third person?"

"He's never had the ability to plan ahead. He's too impulsive and impatient. Even if he wasn't behind it but was still involved, if he wanted to torture me, it wouldn't be a drawn out process."

"What about your dad?" Beca asks, "Do you think he could have had something to do with it? Or your mom?"

The very idea is dizzying. They would never. They didn't hate her that much, right? They couldn't. "I guess we should take all possibilities into consideration." She reaches for a notebook to write it down, but Beca uses her foot to push the table farther from the bed.

"I'm sorry I brought it up."

"No, you're right." Aubrey leans and grabs the table to pull it back around. "We should consider everything." She jots down her parents' names as suspects.

"Do you ever talk to Chloe about them?" Beca asks.

Aubrey shakes her head.

"Why not?"

"So, radio and chill?" Aubrey suggests and flips the journal shut.

"You know I wouldn't get all weepy and pitying like Chloe would, right?" Beca asks and gets up to get the radio, "If you ever wanted to talk about them."

"Because you're a cyborg?"

"Shit. Is it that obvious?"

"They were fine, Beca. They were just strict and always busy."

"No. My dad was strict and always busy," Beca says as she searches for a new radio station, "Yours hit you. Those are two totally different things."

"So your dad never hit you when you refused to listen to him or got in the way?" Aubrey doubts that.

Beca glances up with only her eyes. "No. Never."

"And your mom?"

"Dude, no. And my mom wasn't exactly World's Best Mom. She yelled, like, all the time, but she never laid a hand on me. Would you hit your kids?"

Aubrey wouldn't even consider it as an option. "They just had a certain idea of what their kids should be like, and…I wasn't…" – what they wanted. "Never mind." She plasters on a 'fake it til you make it' smile that might one day convince even them both she's fine as she smooths some of the wrinkles from her hospital gown.

"I'm about to do something weird," Beca announces and stands up.

"Everything you do is weird." Aubrey looks up and leans away as Beca rounds the bed then stops next to her. "What are you doing?"

"I just told you."

"No. All you said was that it was going to be weird. Beca!" Aubrey careens sideways as Beca leans over the bed in her direction.

Beca catches her by the arm before she can abandon ship. "Jesus. What do you think I'm about to do that seriously warrants you launching yourself off the bed?"

"I don't know, and if I wanted to find out, I wouldn't have tried your shitty avoidance maneuver."

"It wouldn't have worked anyway; you're basically tied to the bed," Beca points out.

…as if Aubrey needs the reminder that she has been rendered temporarily hors de combat.

"Okay." Beca releases her to crack her knuckles then shake out her hands. "Here goes. You can never tell anyone about this."

Aubrey stares straight forward at the door with a neutral expression. "If I refuse to sign off on those terms and conditions, does that mean whatever this exchange is will cease to happen?" she asks in the flattest tone she's capable of, "You know I don't like surprises, right?"

"I guess it's a good thing that this is more of a shock."

That's even worse.

Beca places one knee on the bed for balance then leans forward and wraps her arms around Aubrey from the side. "I think I'm doing this right? I'm sure you'll correct me if I'm wrong. You always do."

"Beca…" The tube running down the back of her throat makes the lump that forms that much more uncomfortable. Aubrey pauses for a breath. "It's fine. Not everyone can have parents like Chloe's."

"Isn't that the truth."

"You said you weren't going to go all Chloe on me, so can you just-" Aubrey feels her mistake immediately when she twists around in an effort to nudge Beca off of her. She jams her thumb down on the button attached to the PCA pump as fast as she can then rests her hand against her stomach.

Beca pulls back, but not completely. "Are you okay?"

The blinding white light and the ringing in her ears that accompany feeling like a scalpel is being driven through her gut only last a moment before it all turns into just a throbbing ache. This is the kind of pain she would have thought being shot would feel like, but it makes having a bullet put in her shoulder feel like being hit with a nerf gun. She sucks in a breath once her lungs open back up and nods. "Mhm." The gaspy high pitch of her voice doesn't back up her answer, so she puts back on the same smile from earlier. "I just moved the wrong way."

"Maybe some water would help," Beca suggests and stands up to get her some.

"There's an IV pumping me full of fluids," Aubrey reminds her, "The only way water is going to solve this is if it's full of opioids."

Beca hands her a plastic cup anyway.

Aubrey takes it and holds it against her forehead, disappointed to find it's room temperature and does little to ease the heat she feels in her face.

"Do you still have a fever?"

That's highly unlikely given the amount of fever reducers that have been pumped through her body. "It's just from the pain." And maybe the hug. She cuts Beca off before she can respond. "But it's going away." She lowers the cup back down and looks at the liquid inside. Even just water is revolting; she can already feel it coming back up. "I'm fine," she claims for the millionth time and hands the cup back, "It only hurts where the stitches are." As well as everywhere else in her body. She falls back against her pillow once her stomach muscles relax enough for her to move and lifts her hand to shield her eyes from the ceiling light. As much as she hates IVs, this one is a God-send.

Rather than putting the water down, Beca takes a drink of it as she stares at Aubrey's stomach. "That was such a fucking dick move!" she explodes out of nowhere and throws the cup in the sink, wiping away water that splashes onto her arm, "I'm glad that bitch got shot."

"Maybe Nikki was the other person in that chat," Aubrey suggests, "Maybe Jesse didn't tell her about…" She lowers her and motions toward her stomach. "Maybe my brother did."

"I don't care who told her," Beca replies and walks to the other side of the room, "If she wasn't dead, I'd kill her myself."

"Beca…"

"I would – for you and Chloe." Beca folds her arms and collapses into a chair. "I'm so pissed off." Uncrossing her arms, she leans forward and digs her fingers into her hair. "Dude, what the fuck?" She looks back up when Aubrey throws a glitter pen at her.

"You told me you were pulling your hair out. Don't do that."

Beca lowers her hands from her head and looks at them then uses them to hold her head up without twisting her hair around them. "This is all such bullshit!"

"Do you wanna come back to the bed?" Aubrey offers, "There's room." It's mostly at the bottom of the bed, but still.

Beca shakes her head, angling her body toward the door as she wipes at her eyes. "I wanna kick her corpse's ass."

"I'm starting to feel better," Aubrey says in hopes of making her feel better, "And how could Chloe not end up being okay?"

"You won't even drink water, and we don't know for sure that she will be."

"She has to be." The reality that she might not be will kill her faster than any injury if she thinks it one more time. "She's Chloe."

Beca looks at her with pity. "Yeah." She nods, but it isn't very convincing. "You're right."

"I saw her when I on the operating table. It was just the drugs, but it felt so…real." Aubrey squeezes each fingertip on her casted hand, feeling nothing at all from her own touch. "I can still feel her holding my hand."

"You were in and out after they brought you out," Beca says, "You kept saying she was coming back and asking for her jewelry box."

"Where did you go last night?" Aubrey dares to ask while neither of them are being particularly guarded.

"You already know," Beca answers.

"No. I know what you were going to do, but I don't know where you went."

"I went to an alley. I found a piece of broken bottle on the ground." Beca laughs and scrubs at her cheeks with her palms. "It was super well planned out…" The pained smile dies from her expression as she lowers her elbows to her knees and rocks forward.

Aubrey draws her lower lip between her teeth as she prepares her next question – the one she's most uncertain about if she wants to know the answer. "Are you still considering it?"

"Killing myself?" Beca furiously shakes her head. "No." Then she stops. "I don't know. I'm not trying to. It just seems so fucking welcoming, you know?"

No, Aubrey doesn't know. Because while it seems easier, the idea of death is becoming increasingly more terrifying as time goes on and any desire to be dead is just surface level. It's more of a desire to fall asleep until all of this is somehow over. In the end, she still wants to wake up again. Death is just so…permanent, and she doesn't even know what comes next. "Aren't you scared?"

"Of being brutally murdered? Yes. Of dying? No. It's inevitable."

That's the worst part. There is nothing she can do to stop it from happening – not for herself, not for Chloe, not for anyone.

"In like seventy years, Aubrey," Beca adds, "You're not dying right now."

She might be. It certainly still feels like she is.

"If you are dying, which you're not, it's because you're not eating or drinking anything. Can you just try the water?"

"I have these." Aubrey motions to the tube in her nose and then the IV bag.

"You can't live on those forever," Beca reminds her, "Eventually you're going to have to eat and drink."

Eventually is fine. It's right now, while her throat is burning and her stomach still doesn't feel completely settled, that has her on edge. She pulls the blanket so it's bunched up on her lap and picks at the threads. "I think I'm going to get some sleep."

Beca covers her face with one hand and sighs. "Okay." She pushes herself up with her hands on her knees then walks over to the bed. Before Aubrey can react, she snatches the blanket from her and shakes it out. "You need that too, so…" It's after she's holding the blanket out in front of her that she acknowledges Aubrey is staring at it in confusion. "I'm covering you up. Lay down."

"Why?" All she had to do was throw one end of the blanket down over her legs.

Beca haphazardly tosses the blanket over her. "You drive me crazy," she states as she rounds the bed toward the control buttons, "Which one of these lowers the bed?"

"It's, um, it's the down arrow…"

"I knew that." Beca presses the button and lowers the bed until it's nearly flat.

It takes several seconds of squirming around to find a position that's somewhat comfortable. "Beca?" She moves her feet to make room at the bottom of the bed.

"This hospital needs some bigger fucking beds. Make sure you write that on the little survey they give you when you check out. Write very specifically that Beca needs more room." Beca pushes her legs over farther to sit down then pulls them up across her lap.

"Well, hopefully, we don't get stuck here again." Unless it's to see Chloe, Aubrey never wants to step foot in a hospital after this. "Thank you for staying here."

Beca just closes her eyes and rests a hand on Aubrey's leg. She opens them again when Aubrey tenses. "What?"

"I haven't shaved," Aubrey admits, although she's sure Beca can feel that.

"How utterly revolting of you," Beca deadpans, "So gross I might have to leave and not come back." Lifting her hand from Aubrey's leg, she bends her knee and rolls up her pants leg. "In case you haven't noticed, it's not exactly been on the top of my To Do list either. Relax." She fixes her pants then settles down with her hand on Aubrey's leg again, lightly stroking her skin with the tips of her fingers. "There probably won't be any razors or sharp shit in the house once we get back there anyway, courtesy of yours truly."

"There's always wax…"

"I would rather become the wolfman. You can chain me up and use me to threaten all the Bellas…" Beca's voice trails off. "You can use me to threaten the old Bellas. Like Alice."

It's not a very good save.

"Sorry," Beca mutters and falls backward on the mattress, her head nearly hanging off the edge, "I keep forgetting that they're not here." She massages her face with her other hand. "I keep waiting to wake up or be told this is all just some elaborate prank gone wrong and everyone was just pretending to be dead. If you wanted to tell me you had those Halloween store blood capsules in your mouth last night, I wouldn't even be mad." Her hand drops down onto the bed with a slapping sound. "Do you think we should reach out to everyone's families?"

"And say what?" It's crossed Aubrey's mind a few times, but it's been difficult to think up a scenario where people don't hate them for surviving what killed their loved ones.

"I don't know. But anything is better than nothing, right? Maybe your mom could tell us what we should say…"

Aubrey makes a mental note to ask her about it later. "Have you met their families?" All these years of knowing each other, and Aubrey has never interacted with any of their families outside of a few brief hellos after the ICCAs.

"No. I mean, I've seen them a lot of times the past few years, but I've never talked to them. You?"

Aubrey shakes her head.

"Good. That makes me feel less like crap."

"I don't think even Chloe has really met them," Aubrey says.

"That definitely makes me feel better. If the person who knows all of earth's population doesn't know them, we're in the clear. Shit, I'm keeping you awake, aren't I?"

"It's okay."

Beca goes silent regardless and the only sound in the room becomes the radio.

It was actually easier to relax when Beca was talking. Without conversation, there isn't much keeping her from being trapped inside of her own head. She tries to focus on the music, take in the lyrics that she doesn't know, but her thoughts keep ending up on the inevitability of death and how if she closes her eyes, she could just never wake up.

It must feel nice not to be terrified of that.

xxxxx

Twenty-three songs. That's how long it takes for Julia to show up and knock on the door. "How do you feel about guests?" she asks, sticking only her head inside.

Guests are good. Guests are distracting. Aubrey nods and uses the button on the bed to sit up.

"A warning would be nice!" Legs in the air, Beca has to practically flip over backwards in order to sit up.

"Your yoga needs some work, Beca," Conrad says as he follows Julia into the room, "I think those kinds of moves only have one purpose in bed, and it's not whatever you're doing."

"Those things take practice," Beca claims.

"Ooh," Conrad hums and rubs his chin, "Good point."

"Get out of the doorway." Brian shoves him the rest of the way in. "I have news."

"I also have news," Julia adds. She takes a seat beside Aubrey and presses a kiss to her temple. "Are you feeling better? You look better."

"I feel okay."

"She still has pain," Beca contradicts her.

"Oh no." Julia makes a fuss over her as Aubrey glares in Beca's general direction.

"Even I have news," Noah adds on his way in.

"I have no news," Conrad chimes in in a whisper, "But I'm sure I'll think of something."

Brian waves a folded sheet of paper in the air. "I have the best news, so someone else go first."

"Noah, why don't you go first?" Julia suggests.

"Does that mean my news is the least best?"

"Everybody's news is the least best compared to mine." Brian unfolds his paper. "You're all about to shit yourselves when I read to you what's on this paper, so someone please talk."

"I'm selling the Florida house," Noah says, "With your permission, Aubrey and Beca, we're here to stay permanently – or, at the very least, until you're tired of us."

Permanently. Meaning forever. Is it even possible to have better news than that? The whole room feels lighter. Even Beca lets out a sigh like she can finally relax a little as she collapses on her back again with both her head and legs hanging over opposite sides of the bed.

"We can help you navigate this and recover as much as you need us to," Julia adds, "Which leads to my news: I have a job interview, here at the hospital actually, tomorrow. So if the idea of living together is too much, we can easily afford our own place nearby. Is that fine with you?"

There are no words to express how that's the finest damn thing Aubrey has ever heard – and the craziest. They would just up and leave their entire lives…

"Say yes, Aubrey!" Conrad cheers her on.

Brian dissolves onto a fit of hysterical laughter.

"Brian!" Conrad scolds him, "This is not the time for sociopathic tendencies!"

"I'm sorry." Brian wipes his eyes, "But you guys are talking about jobs and affording a place to live. You're never going to need to work again. Do you know what dead people have?"

"I thought Aubrey lacked empathy," Beca mumbles and sits up.

"Wills!" Brian announces just before Aubrey is about to kick her, "And once they start identifying dental records, Brian here has access to steal them from people's desks and copy them before the real lawyer steals the glory."

"Who exactly is in this amazing will you claim to have?" Beca asks.

"Both of you! And Chloe! Because your friend, Patricia Hobart, either really liked you guys or is batshit crazy!"

"Patricia Hobart?" Aubrey mouths and shares a look with Beca. She shakes her head and looks at Brian. "I don't know who that is."

"She certainly knows you," Brian says.

"Wait!" Beca interrupts, "Fat Patricia, Fat Amy. That has to be Fat Amy."

"It says Fat Amy in parentheses, but I was a little confused by that," Brian admits, "Did she actually call herself Fat Amy?"

"Such unabashery," Conrad whispers, "I love it."

"So, Fat Amy left us something?" Beca confirms, "Me, Aubrey, and Chloe?"

"It says right here: To Sir Aubrey Posen, Beca Effin' Mitchell, and The Ginger – with all of your names written in the boring correct way underneath – If I die before you, I leave you my fortune. Don't tell anyone you don't trust. Seriously, don't."

"Her fortune?" Beca laughs.

"Of what?" Aubrey asks, "Twinkies?"

"Aubrey, that is rude," Julia reprimands her.

Aubrey looks at her. "She calls herself Fat Amy."

"Seriously, it could actually be a storage unit full of Twinkies," Beca comments, "I would not be surprised if she stocked up after Hostess filed for bankruptcy and everyone thought Twinkies were gone for good."

"I know I stocked up," Conrad backs her up, "My life depends on Twinks."

"You mean Twinkies?" Beca replies.

"That's what I said."

"Don't you understand? You guys are rich!" Brian yells with a wide, open-mouthed smile, "You're fucking loaded!"

"Dude, Fat Amy wasn't rich," Beca says.

"Yes," Brian responds, "She fucking was."

"How much?" Julia asks.

"60 million," Brian answers, "Each."

Aubrey looks up, and Julia's arm falls from around her. "I'm sorry, what?"

"Between the three of you, you have 180 million dollars." He releases a loud, unrestrained laugh.

Beca bolts upright and snatches the paper out of his hand. "Holy fucking shit-balls. Holy-" She leaps to her feet. "Did you know she had this much money?!"

Aubrey just barely shakes her head, utterly speechless. What? That can't be right…

"You're sure?" Julia asks.

"I'm sure. I wouldn't have brought it if I wasn't completely positive. This is real."

"Wow," Julia breathes, "Wow." She turns to Aubrey when the heart monitor begins to beep. "Aubrey, are you okay?"

Her mouth is hanging wide open and she realizes it just enough to close her lips. 180 million dollars, and 60 million of that is hers? She could buy herself and Chloe a house in Jamaica Estates and still never want for anything. She could build a house in Jamaica Estates – and that's not even taking Chloe's share into account. She can pay for Chloe's medical bills and have her moved home with a private nurse if she doesn't wake up. She can make sure her parents are taken care of. Fuck, she doesn't even have to know what to say to the Bellas' families; she can give them all a million dollars. "What does a heart attack feel like?"

Beca lowers herself back down to the edge of the bed, breathing hard. "I don't know, but I'm pretty sure I'm having one. Are you sure this is real?"

"Yes! I heard them talking about waiting for Aubrey to get out of the hospital to tell you guys. But I'm going to need you to act this surprised when that happens, because I'm not supposed to have this."

"This calls for a celebration dinner, made by me" Conrad announces, "And, Aubrey, you're eating too. I need you to remember who your lowly best friends are once you're living the high life."

"I'm about to buy you a new, bigger house just as a thank you for letting me stay with you for a few weeks," Beca says, "You can have a new car too. What else do you want?"

"I don't want any money," Conrad says very seriously, "I just want Aubrey to eat."

"I will take both," Brian adds shamelessly and takes the paper to tuck it in his pocket.

Beca spins around on the bed. "You need to eat and get out of this place. All you have to do is eat a few meals and you get 60 million dollars. And I, also, get 60 million dollars."

"Okay," Julia cuts in, taking all eyes off of Aubrey, "While that is a very good incentive, money doesn't heal injuries any faster – so everyone in this room, Beca, is going to continue to be very patient."

"I don't think it's fair that you said everyone in this room and then still tagged my name on," Beca mutters, "Just drink some water."

Aubrey is still struggling to wrap her head around that number. It would feel more real if it was a thousand or even ten thousand. Together, she and Chloe have 120 million dollars. That will put their kids and their kids' kids through college. If Chloe wakes up, that is. If not, starting a family will just be a dream. This might be another hallucination from the drugs...

"I'm sure if Aubrey decides to quit eating for good and become Skeletor, you still get your share of the money," Conrad assures Beca.

"Chloe is buying her old man a new boat when she wakes up," Noah decides, "She owes me."

"For what?" Julia asks.

"That one time you weren't home and she needed someone to wipe her butt."

Julia rolls her eyes.

"She kept bouncing."

"I changed pull-ups for almost a year. You think she held still for that? Also, potty training was not exactly a walk in the park. I don't remember you trying to keep her sitting down then."

"I'm not saying she doesn't owe you. I'm just saying I should get a nice boat for that."

"Chloe would be absolutely mortified you're talking about this in front of me and Beca," Aubrey says, still trying but barely able to grasp the reality of what she's just been told, "I'm going to tell her all about it later. Keep going."

"This is incredibly cruel, but I agree you should keep going," Beca says.

"She almost didn't make it into Kindergarten when she was five, because she claimed she was too busy to be potty trained. I asked her what she was so busy with and she couldn't think of anything – and months of struggle turned into a five second change of mind."

That sounds about right. God, Aubrey misses everything about her – even everything that drove her mad. How would Chloe even react to knowing she had 60 million dollars? What's the first thing she would buy? Probably that boat… The first thing Aubrey is going to get is a financial advisor.

"You should go see her while the boys go get us all dinner," Julia says as she presses the button for a nurse, "Let's see if we can get you out of this bed and into a wheelchair instead of rolling this whole thing up there."

Aubrey glances at Beca.

"Whatever, fine, I'll go with you," Beca concedes before Aubrey has a chance to ask, "Just don't expect me to be the one pushing you all over the hospital."

xxxxx

"Ow, Beca!" Aubrey's wheelchair crashes into the table next to Chloe's bed.

"What?" Beca asks from the doorway, "I delivered you."

"You could have pushed me in. I can't even-" Aubrey tries to turn the chair around with one hand using one of the wheels and then the assistance of the table, which rolls away.

"I did push you in."

Using her leg against the side of Chloe's bed, she manages to push herself back a few inches, but the chair turns in the process so she's no longer facing her. Instead, she's staring directly at Beca, who hasn't left the doorway. Oh. "It doesn't get any easier." It still hurts the same for her, anyway. "You just have to do it."

"That's very convincing." Beca folds her arms. "What do you even do while you're in here anyway?"

"I don't know. I just…tell her what's going on. Sometimes I sing." Aubrey rubs her fingertips up and down her neck, trying to decide if it's worth trying to do that with the tube in her throat. "If you're not going to turn me around, at least find someone who will."

Beca steps tentatively inside the room then shuts the door behind her. She wheels Aubrey back then turns her around and positions her close to Chloe's bed. "Is this okay?"

Aubrey reaches out and grabs Chloe's hand without needing to stretch. "It's perfect."

They both fall silent, waiting for the other one to speak first.

"Your mom and dad are telling embarrassing stories about you," Aubrey says when she realizes if she doesn't talk, no one is going to, "And they're moving here, so if they haven't already brought all your baby pictures, they'll have them here soon. If you don't wake up, nothing is going to stop me and Beca from seeing them."

"And if you don't wake up, you're not going to get the 60 million fucking dollars Fat Amy left for you," Beca adds, "And neither am I, because someone needs to force food into Aubrey or we're all going to be permanent residents of this hospital – and the only person who hasn't tried is you."

Aubrey looks up at the ceiling and rolls her eyes.

Beca falls back into a chair and slouches down with her legs spread wide. "Aubrey is a hard-headed pain in my ass."

"Well, Beca is as stupid as her feet." Aubrey cranes her neck to see her. "Because those are the part of your body farthest from your head."

"Yeah, I got that. My IQ is a lot higher than you think."

"Well, I was thinking that of a rock," Aubrey says, "So, that of an oyster?"

"Shut up. I know those don't have brains either. Have you ever thought maybe you have oyster DNA? Small heart, no brain, masses of nerves…"

If only. Aubrey turns back around in her chair and plays with Chloe's fingers. "Did you know oysters don't feel pain? They're almost like plants that way. They're completely insentient. You can boil them or eat them alive, and they have no idea you're killing them or that they're even dying."

"I can't believe you just made me jealous of an oyster," Beca mumbles, "Forget being a dinosaur; I want to be an oyster when I grow up."

Aubrey exhales an audible sigh and leans her head back against the chair to close her eyes for awhile.

"Do you have baby photos?" Beca asks.

"I don't know. I guess you could consider them that."

"I'd pay a million to see those."

Aubrey laughs a little. "They're just staged holiday photos. They're boring."

"We tried to do one of those Christmas card photos once, right before my parents got divorced. They fought so much over what we should wear, if I didn't know my dad cheated, I would have swore that's why they separated."

"Mine did that too, only it was every single holiday," Aubrey admits, "We'd have to go out and buy outfits and they could never agree on anything. But I always got frilly dresses out of it either way, so I didn't care."

"That was the worst part of that Christmas. My dress had candy canes on it, and I looked like an elf."

"My favorite was one with rabbits on it that I got one Easter. I wore it like every day for a year and would twirl it until I got dizzy."

"My mom put my hair in pigtails with red bows for our Christmas photo. It was the worst day of my childhood."

"I loved pigtails and bows."

"Of course you did. I bet your mom curled them for you and they bounced when you walked, didn't they?"

"Mhm."

"It was bad enough my mother pulled out half my hair every morning just brushing it."

"Mine did too," Aubrey commiserates, "She always said it was a rat's nest when it most definitely was not."

"So did mine! …only she might have been right sometimes."

"Some of the best mornings were when she was away and my father made me take care of myself. My mother would do things for me just to complain about it. The worst were when his job would move him and she wouldn't want to go, so we'd just be at our house in Virginia for months without him – and then by the time she would decide to join him, he'd either be able to come home or he was moved somewhere else. I'd have to leave my normal school to go to a new one for a few weeks and then I'd end up right back at the old one again. I wish we'd have just sold the Virginia house and moved around with him."

"So let me get this straight," Beca says, "Your dad hit you, but you'd rather be with him than with your mom who curled your hair and put bows in it? Dude, why?"

"He was predictable. I usually knew when he was mad – and, if he wasn't, he just wanted nothing to do with me. She would just…flip out of nowhere. One moment she'd be hugging us and the next we were the most disgusting things she ever laid eyes on. One time, Liam sneezed while she was rocking him for a nap and she threatened to bathe him in bleach." Aubrey catches herself even though it's a little too late. "But she didn't. She took us all out a few hours later and bought us ice cream." She leaves out the part of how Liam refused to eat his until it made their mother cry about how unappreciative they all were.

"That sounds super stable," Beca murmurs.

"My dad said she used to be, and then she changed after I was born. I think he was right."

"He's a dick. I don't get why you always talked about him like he was God."

"I guess I just thought I could make him proud."

"Well, Chloe's parents seem pretty proud of you. They probably even have a picture of you on their desks at work."

Aubrey opens her eyes and looks down with a smile. "I don't think so."

"Did you not hear them say they're selling their house to move here for you? Chloe is unconscious, Dude, she doesn't know if she's in New York or Florida. They're not moving here just so she isn't pissed if she wakes up in a different state. If it was just about her, they would have asked you to go to their house. They thought about both of you. They love you."

"Should we be happy right now?" Aubrey changes the subject, "About the money…?"

"I imagine we should be jumping up and down, screaming or something," Beca answers dully, "Do we not seem ecstatic on the outside?"

Aubrey doesn't even feel ecstatic on the inside. It feels more like someone flipped a switch in her mind and numbed her to any more major life changes. Should the most amazing news she's ever gotten feel this stressful? Do lottery winners feel this numb? Maybe the jumping up and down, cheering with joy comes later…

"Honestly, I'm excited, but it feels like a joke. 60 millions dollars. That's not even a real number of dollars a person can have."

"You could buy a house in Queens and still be set for life with that much money," Aubrey points out.

"I could buy a house in Manhattan and still be set for life."

Yeah, or that. Aubrey nods in agreement.

"I see what you're getting at," Beca says, "Fine."

Aubrey rests her hand over her stitches as she tries to turn her whole body around in the chair.

"If this is somehow miraculously real, I'll be your neighbor in your fancy rich people city." Beca pauses. "Neighbor might be too close. Your parents and friends can live between us and I'll be three houses down. How is this real? Why wouldn't she leave it to her family?"

"Maybe she doesn't have any. Maybe The Bellas were her family."

"Family enough for that?"

Aubrey shrugs her shoulder. "What other reason would there be?"

"You know what? The real question is how did she even get that much money to begin with?" Beca stands up and drags her chair closer to Aubrey and the bed. "Who just randomly has that much money aside from Bill Gates and drug lords – and now us, apparently?"

"I don't know. I don't feel like I know anything anymore."

Beca reaches over so her hand is on top of both Aubrey's and Chloe's hands. "That's not true. You know at least five super fun dinosaur facts."

"I changed my mind," Aubrey says, "Maybe Manhattan is the place for you."

"It's too late now. We're going to see each other every day for the rest of your life all thanks to Fat Amy." Beca squeezes her hand way too hard on purpose. "Does it feel real to you yet?"

"No." It's like she doesn't care at all beyond the most basic sense of relief.

"Does that mean I can have your share?"

"Also no."

The only way someone is getting that money is if there's a doctor out there that can bring Chloe back to her in exchange. Even if she had to add in her savings and spend her entire life paying off medical bills, there's nothing else she can think of that she really wants. 60 million dollars and, basic needs aside, every cent of it is useless.

"You know you can be sad and excited at the same time, right?" Beca asks.

"Mhm." Only she's not both of those things. She's still lost so much more than she's gained.