Chapter Text
When someone you love dies of a terminal illness, you like to think that you’re ready to face the inevitable – you like to think that you’re emotionally prepared to deal with the loss and the pain of saying goodbye. You like to think that you’ll be okay, that you’ll have come to terms with having to live without them – that it won’t hurt as much, because you’ve already seen it coming.
Chloe Beale immediately realises that all that is not true.
There is nothing – nothing in the world that could have prepared her for the overwhelming sense of loss that hits her the moment the Bellas start leaving, one by one after the funeral. They’ve stayed as long as they can, but their bubble of shared grief can only block out the real world for so long, and as much as Chloe knows that they wish to stay for her, she also understands that they have work and their lives to return to. They’ve pushed it aside long enough for Beca – and for her.
It’s the silence that gets to her at first, a constant, painful reminder of what’s missing. She’s spent almost ten years practically attached to Beca’s side, talking to her constantly, messaging, Skyping, and Snapchatting even when they were physically apart, and now there’s a Beca-shaped hole in her life that she doesn’t know how to fill, that she feels as though she’s drowning in. The first few days alone are surreal – she realises that she’s forgotten how it’s like to live without Beca, and that she has to relearn how to live without her. She finds herself standing in the middle of their apartment morning after the burial, staring at her reflection in the windows blankly because for some fucking absurd reason, she suddenly remembers Fat Amy’s words from six years ago at the retreat –
You’re Beca and Chloe, together you’re Bhloe. And everyone loves a good Bhloe.
(Except that, Chloe remembers thinking idly in between fits of hysterical, tear-streaked laughter, there’s no more Beca and Chloe. There’s only Chloe left.)
And then their shared apartment reminds her too much of Beca – the brunette's presence lingers in each room, and if she closes her eyes and remembers, she thinks that she can just catch a hint of Beca’s unique scent, seeping out of the walls, permeating every single square inch of the flat. Reminders of the girlfriend she’s just lost are still scattered around too – her faded Barden sweatshirt still hangs from the doorjamb of their shared bedroom, as though waiting for its now absent owner to reclaim it and put it on again. Headphones – wires still entangled – lie atop a closed laptop on the bedside table, evidences of their late-night show-watching, a dog-eared copy of The Force Doth Awaken is jammed underneath the mattress (it had been a gag gift from one of the Bellas during their annual Secret Santa, and Beca likes – no, liked – it when Chloe comes up with voices for the different characters). The medical equipment that had kept Beca alive and comfortable had all been removed, but everything else Beca remains. It is, in equal parts, too much and not enough, so she moves in with Aubrey and Stacie after four days in the apartment alone because she can feel herself going mad, imagining Beca almost, but not really there.
She goes home three weeks later, accompanied by Aubrey and Stacie, and finds that the apartment has been tidied up since the last time she’s been there – one of them must have popped by and cleaned for her, and she’s grateful.
It makes her job now slightly more bearable.
She starts from the study, because she doesn’t think that she can walk into the bedroom again and not see Beca there just yet, and starts going through the drawers methodically, setting aside the papers she finds into two separate piles: to keep, and to discard. Most of it is easy – they’re work documents that Beca had squirrelled away, outdated and irrelevant contracts, printed copies of email exchanges between her and various other producers within the company, and medical pamphlets that are now useless. She’s glad for Aubrey’s presence now, because when she realises that she’s holding on to remnants of Beca’s life, she starts gasping for oxygen, clawing desperately at the suddenly too-tight collar of her shirt, yet Aubrey doesn’t panic or offer her meaningless words of comfort. She simply takes Chloe’s hands and gently leads her to the living room, where Stacie rocks her on the couch until she remembers how to breathe past the permanent weight lodged deep in her chest, and when she returns to the study, Aubrey’s standing there, staring down at a dark blue flash drive held in her hand.
“What’s that?” It’s the first thing she’s said to Aubrey since they stepped into the apartment, and her voice is hoarse and dry from disuse. Aubrey wraps an arm around her waist to hold her steady, turning the device over – there’s no marking on it, which is unusual in itself. Beca is – was – notoriously neat when it comes to all her flash drives, labelling them meticulously. (It was a lesson burned into her brain after she’d accidentally brought one of the mix-tapes she’d made for Chloe instead of the songs she had planned to play on the campus radio station during her sophomore year.)
“I don’t know,” Aubrey presses it into her hand, curling her fingers around the warm metal. “Do you want to open it?”
She bites her lip, considers for a long moment. “Yeah. Yeah, let’s see what’s in it.”
Aubrey grabs the laptop from the bedroom without being asked, and they settle into the couch, Chloe’s heart pounding as she fumbles with the drive before successfully plugging it in.
And then both Stacie and Aubrey grabs her hands as she gasps, tears welling up in her eyes.
There’s a whole list of folders in the drive, carefully labelled with each Bella’s name – Lilly, Amy, CR, Stacie, Legacy, Flo, Jessica and Ashley. She chokes back a watery laugh when she sees Aubrey’s being labelled as “Posen” – some things, she thinks fondly, will never change – and her own folder, “Chlo-bear”, just below it.
“Do you want to – “
“No, you first,” she pushes herself off the couch, waving Stacie and Aubrey back when they start to rise along with her, nearly-identical frowns on concern on their faces. “I – I’ll be fine, I just… I need some time alone.”
She leans against the kitchen counter, her eyes closed – she can hear quiet murmuring from the living room, a few sniffles, and she starts pacing until she feels Aubrey take her hands and squeeze them reassuringly.
“You know, I used to see her at her laptop all day, working on something when I was staying with her,” Aubrey begins, her voice wavering, her normally sharp green eyes now soft with wistfulness and affection. “I never asked her what she was doing, but now – Chlo, she made mixes for all of us.”
Chloe watches as her friend runs a hand through her messy blond hair before letting out a watery laugh. “Her sense of humour is going to haunt me from beyond the grave, I can’t believe she managed to mix The Sign along with Price Tag and Party from the USA together into one song.”
She feels her lip twitch, before she breaks into a smile – a small one, but one nonetheless, because she can just picture Beca sitting there, cackling wickedly as her fingers fly over her laptop keys while she tries to find ways to rile Aubrey up. Stacie joins them later, her eyes still red as she sinks into Aubrey’s embrace, and reaches out to touch Chloe’s shoulder in comfort as the redhead pushes past them, leaving the two girls in the kitchen alone.
It takes her a while before she opens the correct folder because her fingers are shaking so badly, two minutes before she finally summons enough courage to click on the MP4 file, and another minute before she plays it.
It’s just a simple screen-capture of Beca’s mixing software at first, and she thinks that Beca had put it in just because she knew that Chloe loves (loved) watching her work – she’d once told Beca it was like “watching you make magic” and Beca had scoffed and ducked away, but she’d caught the soft smile on the brunette’s face. She closes her eyes, lets the familiar melodies of Just the Way You Are sweep over her, mixed in with Just A Dream, before it transitions smoothly into another song – she realises three songs in that Beca’d meticulously picked all the songs that had meant something to the both of them; she had somehow created a mix of the ten years they had spent together.
And then the last strains of the song fade away, and is replaced by –
Someone tapping a rhythm against a plastic cup, Chloe will recognise this song anywhere. Beca’s voice comes in now, singing quietly, “I got my ticket for the long way ‘round, two bottle ‘a whiskey for the way.”
And then she gasps, her eyes flying open because her own voice joins in with the harmony. “And I sure would like some sweet company, and I’m leaving tomorrow, wha-do-ya say?” She remembers talking Beca into doing a recording one night at their old apartment in NYC when Amy disappeared for the night, both of them wine-drunk and giggly, and she can’t believe Beca had held on to the recording all this time.
The chorus peters out, and the video changes – it’s Beca on the screen now, a guitar tucked under her arm, long brown curls tied into a messy bun, sitting in front of the camera now and looking uncharacteristically shy, and Chloe chokes back a sob at the familiar expression. It’s the same look she gives – gave – Chloe whenever she let the redhead listen to any of her new mixes, the same look that told Chloe that her opinion was the only one that had ever mattered.
She realises that she doesn’t recognise this song – realises that Beca had written this song just for her.
“I was so young and reckless, it was all a blur but there you were
And your love left me breathless, when the fairy dust fell over us
Yeah I, I felt I could fly, 'cause I, I found love.
So take my hand, and shed a tear, before I'm gone, it's now or never
I'll hold you close, the end is near, but love goes on, and on forever
It's so dark in my mind, I cross my heart and hope to die
I'm so bad, at goodbyes, I hold my breath, and close my eyes
I don't have a lot left, oh, how did it end so fast?
I say, with my last breath: it's a perfect day, to float away
When the sparks, flew between us, I saw you glow, and had to know
Where our journey would lead us, till the stories’ end, and back again
Yeah I, I felt I could fly, 'cause I, I found love
So lead me home, and lift me up, above the stars, and even higher
I'm not afraid, because your love, it falls like rain, and burns like fire
It's so dark in my mind, I cross my heart and hope to die
I'm so bad, at goodbyes, I hold my breath, and close my eyes
I don't have a lot left, oh, how did it end so fast?
I say, with my last breath: it's a perfect day, to float away
I'll love you forever, and you were my dream come true
I say, with my last breath: it's a perfect day, to float away
Yeah I, I felt I could fly, 'cause I, I found love.”
Chloe didn’t think it was possible earlier, but she's crying again, her shoulders shaking because she's suddenly been reminded of how much Beca loves - no, loved - her. Video-Beca is starting to speak now, and she has to pause three times to wipe her eyes because it’s Beca talking to her and she doesn’t want to miss out on any part of it. She rakes her gaze over the screen hungrily, studying the painfully familiar half-smile that Beca gives whenever she’s feeling self-conscious.
“You know that I’m weird with all this word and feelings stuff,” Beca begins, scratching at the back of her neck nervously. “But I didn’t want to leave you a note because it just seemed, I dunno, so formal and strange. And I guess it’s just easier because this way I can imagine that I’m really talking to you.”
She can’t help but laugh slightly at the patented Beca awkwardness, so evident in this video.
“Uh, I – I just wanted to tell you thanks, I guess, really. For sticking by me ever since I was a freshman even though I was an ass and pushed you away so many times. You made – make – me better everyday, and I – I can’t – I wouldn’t be who I am today if you weren’t around to kick my ass and remind me to get my shit together. And, uh – “
Beca leans the guitar against the wall beside her before running her hands through her hair.
“Thanks. For loving me, I guess. I – I never thought that you’d be with me even though all this shit was happening, y’know? I know you’re probably rolling your eyes and saying that I shouldn’t have doubted you but I was so scared that I would lose you. I should’ve known, only you, Chlo-bear, would be crazy enough to want a girlfriend that comes with so much extra burdens and responsibilities.”
Chloe watches as Beca untangles her fingers carefully, rubbing them over her eyes with a sniffle.
“Ah look, you’ve made me all sappy and soft now. But I just want you to know that no matter what happens, the past seven years that I have spent together with you are the best years of my life, and that I love you so damn much that it’s unbelievable. Freshman Beca would’ve never thought that she could fall in love with someone so hard. And, y'know what, Chlo-bear? I don’t regret any single bit of it. I couldn't have asked for anything better…"
The video ends there, with Beca smiling that soft, gentle smile at her out of the screen.
Chloe remembers the very first time they'd met.
"Hi, any interest in joining our acapella group?"
"Oh right, that's like a thing, now."
She remembers the seven years they spent as best friends.
"I think we are gonna be really fast friends."
"Well, you already saw me naked, so…"
And the last three years she'd spent by Beca's side, as her girlfriend.
"You're such a weirdo, Chlo."
"But I'm your weirdo."
"Yeah, yeah, you're lucky I love you."
“Yeah. Yeah, I am."
Then in spite of her tears and her heartbreak, she smiles, reaches out to touch Beca's face, still frozen on the screen.
And thinks that she couldn't have asked for anything better, either.