Help Needed, Not Wanted
Beca awakens, and all that fully resonates in her mind is pain. So much pain. Her head is pulsing, her body is shaking – Georgia didn't really get cold during the summer, but to be out in the woods with nothing really covering her body would leave anyone cold. And then she registers her weight, and she's quick to push him off, feeling disgusted at the dopey grin on his sleeping face, as if he just had the best night of his fucking life. Her pants are around her ankles, and she sees dried blood on her thighs.
Using a nearby tree, she shakily pulls herself up, and then her pants, her panties were nowhere to be found, not that she cared. Right now, she just needed to get away from him. She makes her way through the woods, occasionally having to stop and hold onto a tree to catch her breath. She felt so fucking weak, and it causes tears to burn at her eyes. She's covered in cuts and bruises – claw marks really, it looks like she's been to war with a fucking bear, and they all pulse painfully with her pounding heart.
After a few minutes of mindlessly walking, she reaches the edge of the woods and makes her way to her car, letting out a sob of relief as she stumbles over, thankful that it hadn't been stolen. Her keys are on the ground, and she scoops them up and then opens her door, which had still been unlocked from last night. She slips in, closing the door, and looks at herself in the rearview mirror.
She looks pale – paler than usual. There's dried blood on her forehead from where Jesse had slammed her head against her door. As she locks eyes with herself, her mind is assaulted with brief flashes of what happened last night. She doesn't remember being dragged into the woods, but she remembers being thrown to the ground, which explains the pain in her back as well as the back of her head. She remembers him tearing at her clothes, the pain in her core as he forced his way in.
She shudders, gagging softly, covering her face for a moment before resting her head on the steering wheel, letting out a shaky sob. Taking a few minutes to try and compose herself, she fumbles for her phone, checking the time – no wonder no one was around, it was 6:35 AM.
She considers calling the police immediately, but with her record hanging over her head, would they even believe her? Southern policemen (specifically men) didn't have the best track record of prosecuting rapists, especially if they usually held the demeanor of boy next door.
"Where can I go?" She whispers to herself, barely managing to get her key in the ignition of the Camaro, letting it roar to life, it automatically connects to her phone thanks to the Bluetooth radio that Amy had gotten her for her birthday to put in the dash, and it sounds that she has unread messages.
She doesn't look just yet, as she was just trying to figure out where she can go. She could go to her dorm, and risk being seen by other students, her dad was completely out of the question. She didn't want to break down in front of him, well, anyone, but especially not him, not now, that they had finally started to reform some sort of relationship. She could go into the city, but that was an hour-long trip to get to her mom's, and she's not sure she could last being in her car this long with herself. Maybe Stacie's? She was like a big sister at this point (literally, that girl was so fucking tall).
She looks at her phone now, 6:50 on the clock, and she sighs, texting the only person who literally woke up with the damn sun.
Beca 6:52AM: Chlo, do you think I could come over?
She waits for a response, the suspense killing her. She couldn't risk being here for much longer, lest Jesse wake up and come after her. She just prayed Chloe wasn't mad at her for missing last night.
Chloe 6:55AM: Of course you can, silly. Some of the girls already went home, anyway. Lily (I swear she has an internal clock), Fat Amy, Denise and Jessica. So it's just me, Aubrey, CR, and Stacie… I won't lie, Aubrey is pissed, and said you better have a good excuse for missing last night. I'm not mad though. I'm just glad you're okay! So, hurry on over, I made breakfast.
Even after everything, just a message from Chloe never failed to bring a smile to her face. She just had a way of calming her instantly. Filling her lungs with a steady breath, she puts on her music, a playlist made for her by Chloe after a night of too many Jiggle Juice's that she lovingly titled "Beca Needs To Feel Things", Avril Lavigne's "Forgotten" blaring from her speakers as she makes her way down country roads back to Barden's apartments.
Barden consisted of dorms (where Beca resided), apartments (where Chloe and Aubrey lived) and sorority houses (that the Bella's were looking into acquiring, especially since Aubrey would be moving out soon, and Chloe was staying since she had apparently failed Russian Lit, much to everyone's surprise), and Beca finds herself pulling into the surprisingly empty apartment parking lot. A lot of kids went home for the summer
As she parks the car, she leans back in her seat, her head falling back as she lets out a shaky breath, tears starting to fall as the gravity of her situation really made itself known. Her now ex-boyfriend had abused and raped her, and it made her stomach churn.
She reaches up to hastily lower her visor, needing to look as presentable as she can before she goes to Chloe's door, and god, she looks even worse now. She's more pale, her cheeks are stained with tears, and one cheek is bruised from Jesse slapping her. She reaches in the glove box for a napkin, wetting it with the water bottle that's always there in the console as she dabs at the dried blood near the top of her head, hissing quietly. It hurts like hell. Next, she wipes her cheeks. Even looking like this, she didn't want the others to know she had been crying, even if, deep down, she knew Chloe would know it from her eyes alone. But god dammit, she has a reputation (no she doesn't) to uphold.
She stands at the door for nearly ten minutes, debating on turning around and running, or actually knocking. She knows Chloe won't badger her right away with questions, but the others would, especially CR. That girl was protective as hell, maybe even more than Stacie if that was possible. She would absolutely demand to know what happened to her "Little sis" as she had taken to calling Beca.
She takes one last breath, holding it as she knocks three times. There was no turning back now, unless she wanted to yeet herself off the balcony. Honestly – that wasn't a horrible thought –
But before she can continue to further entertain that idea, the door opens to Chloe, spatula in hand, wearing shorts that complimented her long, tanned and lightly freckled legs, and a baggy Barden t-shirt. She has that ever-present sweet smile on her face that she always wears when Beca is around – it's a smile just for Beca. And for some reason, there was a bit of flour dusted across her little nose, stuck in the creases that srunch up when she smiles.
"Becs- oh my god," she chokes out, the excitement dying on her lips near instantaneously. "C'mon," she whispers, and rather than happily announcing Beca's arrival, she's sneaking her into the apartment, helping Beca kick off her shoes to get her through quietly, body blocking her past the kitchen and toward the bathroom, hastily opening. Beca just finds herself watching the tendons flex in Chloe's wrist at the movement, just attempting to focus on anything other than what she was currently feeling, and Beca just barely hears a confused Stacie calling after Chloe, the brunette hadn't really caught the mess that had occurred in the kitchen due to redhead blocking her from view.
The bathroom door closes behind them, and all Beca hears is the resounding click of the lock and her own pounding heartbeat in her ears. Everything feels more real, now, that she was standing in the bathroom's fluorescent lighting that Chloe couldn't stand, she always said it was too harsh for pictures. Right now, it was too harsh on Beca's frame, making her feel naked for lack of better terms.
Her stormy blue eyes slam shut when she feels soft lips against her forehead, arms wrapping around her. She wasn't a hugger, so she doesn't understand why as of late she finds herself melting when Chloe hugs her, when anyone else would get shoved away. She feels the sting of her teeth slamming into her cheek as she bites down to keep her composure, she can't break down in front of Chloe, it would just be too much for her mind to handle right now.
She's quiet, quieter than Beca has ever seen her, and she's seen Chloe when she's concentrating... But this is different. Very different. Usually, there's always some sort of sound, some sort of movement. But she's just as still as she is quiet, her toned arms still firmly around Beca, as if afraid if she lets go, Beca will vanish right in front of her. And maybe that's because she knows that what the brunette wants. She wants to vanish, she wants to just curl up and cease to exist.
After Finals, she and Chloe became very close, very fast. Beca, of course, wasn't expecting it. She was close with them all after the year together, sure, but with Chloe... It was just different. A good different, though.
"Do me a favor, and undress," she whispers, "I'm gonna go grab you some of my clothes, but.. Don't get in the shower, okay? Not yet, I.. need to think," she whispers, cupping Beca's cheeks in her hands as she pulls back a bit, the crease in her brow is deep, the scar on her forehead a bit deeper because of it. Beca has to fight the sudden urge to reach up and smooth it out with her thumb.
"Please let me shower," Beca's voice quivers, and Chloe can see her actually bite her tongue in shock at her own voice. She sounded so small.
"You can't, sweetie," she whispers, looking into stormy blues, her own crystal blue eyes darkening in worry. "Just.. Let me go grab you some spare clothes, and I'll be right back." She kisses Beca's jaw softly, and again, normally people would get shoved away, but it was Chloe. Chloe was the exception to every rule Beca had.
"Okay," she whispers shakily, and as Chloe closes the door behind her, she undresses, and quite frankly, she may ask to borrow Cynthia Roses's lighter just to burn the clothes, not wanting to look at them ever again.
A few minutes later, Chloe comes back in, a change of clothes in her arms, along with a few other supplies. She sets them on the bathroom counter, and pulls up her curly red hair in a tight bun as she washes her hands, her jaw tense, her entire body, really, as she focuses on looking at Beca, inhaling sharply through her nose as she truly takes in the damage. Beca looks like she's been to fucking war, and with what Chloe has assumed happened, she expected nothing less from Beca Fucking Mitchell. She was a fighter.
"Put your clothes in this bag, please," she murmurs, holding it open for Beca, who silently obeys, looking at Chloe. She so desperately wants to crawl in the shower and scrub her skin until it bleeds, to be free of his scent, his touch, all of it. But she watched enough crime shows growing up with her mom to understand why Chloe is acting the way she is. She's preserving evidence, clearly, being the logical one in this entire fucked up situation so that Beca doesn't have to worry about thinking.
She takes about thirty minutes checking Beca over with a keen eye, not saying a word as she holds up her phone, taking pictures here and there of wounds on her, much to Beca's embarrassment, but she sees them being logged in a secure folder, then her phone is being placed face down on the counter as she cups her jaw once more, "Do you want to go to the police now after you get dressed, or are you not ready?" She whispers. "The clothes help, Beca.. But you know they should-"
"No, please, I can't," she chokes out, fear making her eyes go wide, tears prickling the edge of her vision and she's biting down on her cheek once more to force herself to calm down.
Chloe stakes a ragged breath, sliding a cup of water to Beca with a pill. "Take it, at least," she whispers. Beca looks down at the little pill. It wasn't foolproof, but it was better than nothing, and maybe it would help her feel a little more clean until she could shower. She pops the pill into her mouth, chugging down the water as Chloe pulls back the shower curtain, helping her in quietly. Beca would usually be embarrassed with how much Chloe was seeing of her, but the redhead has already seen all of her, and she just barely smiles at the memory of that little Shower Incident from last year, and Chloe shares the same, sad smile, knowing exactly where Beca's mind has gone with that. "Alright... shower. I'll go let everyone know you're here, I'll come back in when I hear the shower stop, okay?"
"Okay," Beca whispers, and she sounds like such a stranger to herself, so small, so broken.
"Okay," Chloe whispers, gently closing the curtain for her and leaving once Beca turns the shower on.
And there, in the stream of Chloe's shower, the tears finally fall, her head tilted back to the ceiling as sobs shake her body, hands clutching at her abdomen as she feels herself shatter.